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#oh my god someone help i’m so serious
pzycho · 3 months
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yuellii · 6 months
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PLEASE ( DON’T ) BE MY WINGWOMAN !
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𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 his female best friend tries to help him win your love, but knowing her, it all goes wrong
feat. lyney, neuvillette, ayato ( separate )
note. gn reader, features : lynette, furina, ayaka. hello i am officially back and also officially 21 !! :]
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LYNEY.
“Oh, woe is me! Please assist, my dearest sister!” The magician sat sprawled atop the couch quite dramatically, backhand over his forehead feigning feverish feelings. “Whatever shall I do when the God of Romance is plotting against a hopeless romantic, such as I?”
“What’s wrong this time?” By contrast, his sister’s voice proved no fluctuations, tone lacking the honeyed sound he needed for sympathy. Instead of catering to his sorrows, she instead sipped lightly at her tea, for it was far more relaxing than her brother’s ‘woes.’
Still, Lyney sighed. “The love of my life—my soulmate!” he cried out. “How should I win the affections of my other half, when I can’t even grasp the scale of romantic favor?”
“Desserts.”
Lyney sat up. “I beg your pardon?”
“Give desserts,” Lynette shrugged. “Everyone likes desserts.” This reasoning totally made the most sense to her.
She watched as Lyney started at her blankly for just a moment, and then he inhaled sharply. “So I should… use desserts as my gift…” With each passing word, Lynette watched as a staggering excitement in his voice grew tenfold. “And then, if I keep giving their favorite treats”—Lyney gasped—“they’ll start to associate the sweetness with me! Oh, Lynette, you’re a genius!”
Lynette blinked at him. That strategy explanation was not what she said at all, but whatever. Not her problem.
But when Lyney dragged her by the hand to go purchase desserts, and then forced her to sit down at the cafe just to watch him gift treats to you, then maybe it was her problem.
“A very special dessert!” he presented, and Lynette sat with disinterest as she watched your eyes light up at his cheap old appearance trick. “For a very special person.” And now came her own eye roll—caused by the way Lyney giggled to himself at the end of his own sentence.
Maybe it was charming ( but personally Lynette didn’t see the appeal ), because there was a sparkle that appeared in your eyes in admiration of him. And suddenly, Lynette didn’t understand why he was trying to win your love at all, because it’s clear to her that he’s already won it.
“This is for me?” she heard you say. “This is actually my favorite! Oh, Lyney, you shouldn’t have!”
“Don’t even worry,” she watched Lyney wave off. “It was given to me for free at the shop”—Huh?—“and I have no space for it”—What was he…?—“so I thought you might like it!”
Lynette blinked to herself. Then she blinked to herself again. And then one more time, and now Lyney was back to her spot with you no longer in sight. “How did I do?” Lyney excitedly questioned her. “A good start, right? Step one of your idea to get my crush to become obsessed with me is complete!”
Okay first of all, that was literally not her idea, but maybe she should’ve communicated it better. And second, “Why did you lie? That dessert wasn’t free—You specifically bought it to give to them.”
Lyney immediately raised a finger with that confident smirk of his. “Because, my dear sister,” he began, “it’s called playing hard to get.”
If she could sigh, she would. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am! And I’m taking this game very seriously, too. Do you know how hard it is to keep my cool when I’m around the love of my life?!”
“Playing hard to get just makes it harder to get someone, Lyney. They might lose interest and move on.” But still, Lyney insisted. And still, Lynette just silently rolled her eyes.
The next time this happened was literally only a day later. So much for playing “hard to get,” she supposes. Perhaps Lyney didn’t quite fully understand the scope of how suspicious it was to offer you another “free dessert” only a day later. Or, he was just so lovestruck he absolutely could not wait to talk to you again.
Lynette decided the answer to be the latter option.
And once again, he claimed not to buy this dessert on his own, and Lynette did not miss the obvious eyebrow raise you gave her brother this time. You were still grateful since it was your favorite, of course, but it was rather clear you were beginning to question this. Lynette sighed to herself.
“Lynette!” Lyney called excitedly once he left you. “Oh, dear sister, did you see it this time? She stayed with me a bit longer—grabbing the plate much more slowly. She must have been at the start of falling in love with—!” Lyney stopped when he saw the empty seat. “Uh, Lynette?”
Farther away, you suddenly yelped in surprise, almost dropping the plated dessert in your hands.
“Sorry,” Lynette mumbled. Oops, she didn’t mean to scare you. But… maybe appearing in your field of sighs so suddenly once you turned a corner and coming from a darkened alleyway was not the most subtle.
“It’s alright,” you brushed of. “Oh, you must be Lynette, right? Lyney’s sister!”
“Correct.” Ah, how would she bring this up? She was never really the best with words… And definitely not when she had to use a lot of them. “Um, my brother,” she started. “Don’t mind him being weird.”
At the mention of her brother being weird ( perhaps she should defend him, but whatever, he was being weird. ), you seemed to relax. “Yeah…” you trailed off. “He’s been giving me these desserts lately—didn’t seem too coincidental that he keeps getting them for ‘free’… Especially since they’re, um, not even having a promotion right now.”
Again, if Lynette could wack her brother on the head right now, she would.
“He likes you.”
The sudden shock on your face tells Lynette that maybe she shouldn’t have said that so bluntly. Or that she shouldn’t have said that. At all.
“You’re a very dear friend to him,” she correct. Oh, wait, but she didn’t want to completely shut off the idea of romance. Correct it again, quick. “Or, very dear person… Yeah.”
You stayed quiet for a moment, probably trying to process the amount of confessions and corrections she just shot at you. Archons, you probably thought her and her brother were so weird. Unfortunately, she couldn’t blame you.
“Thanks, Lynette,” you said, and she noticed your feet shift to walk away. “Actually, I think I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”
Well, Lyney certainly hoped you would. She just silently watched as you walked off. But she wasn’t worried, no. As long as you spoke of this “next time,” Lynette was sure her brother would eventually succeed with you, even if he was being weird at this game.
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NEUVILLETTE.
The thing that gets Furina the most excited—absolutely elated, much shown in the way she kicks her feet and patters her fingers—is the fact that her dear Iudex has no idea he’s so in love with you.
To not only her, but also the rest of Fontaine, word is quick to spread with the simple way his feet always end up turned in your direction, or how lips curve a slight upwards motion when he speaks to you. Or, the way his feelings of admiration brings out the colors in his eyes, and the shyer tone in which he laughs along with you.
And Furina, being the bestest of friends she certainly is, only wants what’s best for the Chief Justice, truly! It’s such a downer seeing him be a quiet, unsociable, hard-to-get-along-with loner all the time. And so, the moment she catches wind of his feelings, she is more than quick to come up with a way to loop the two of you together.
She pats herself in the back. She’s confident that he’ll totally thank her for all her efforts later.
This confidence still yet remains even when she has you standing up nervously on trial, wide eyes a bit scared to be accused of a crime by the Hydro Archon herself. And Neuvillette atop his seat looks exasperated, much so in a way the audience is always eyeing him with fluttering eyes and chattering whispers—because the Iudex is looking at you with such a public display of concern that he has never been known to show another on trial.
Oh, she could already see the Steambird’s morning headlines! Chief Justice Neuvillette casts eyefuls of worry towards the accused?! Or, The Iudex’s rumored lover: Accused by Lady Furina?! —Oh, oh! She was so excited!
Amidst her internal giggles was when Neuvillette’s cane came hammered down on the wooden floor of his balcony seat, silencing every voice in the Opera Epiclese. “Furina,” his voice scatters as firm as ever, though the Archon could some people gasp to themselves—Ah, she could always trust her people to spot even the slightest difference in his voice; He was clearly angrier today! “I believe you have some explaining to do.”
“Is it not obvious, my dear Iudex?” she loudly proclaimed as if acting in a performance. Her voice was playful and teasing as always, and she could tell Neuvillette was much more annoyed by it than usual today. “I am pressing charges against a darling citizen, yet a criminal over here…!”
And that was when she threw the back of her hand over her forehead for dramatic effect, making you only more nervous upon your stand. Such an increase in your fear was clearly noticeable to the Iudex, of course, as he immediately spoke to silence the Archon accusing you.
“And what would those charges entail, Furina?”
There was a sudden glare in his eyes, almost threatening. But oh well, nothing he could do—She knew he would stick by the law and allow her to make her claim anyways. This was so easy, she could almost laugh to herself!
“For…”
Oh, celebration was already at the back of her mind!
“Murder!”
…Holy shit. Oh Archons. She was supposed to say theft. “Theft,” for stealing Neuvillette’s heart. But instead she slipped up and said murder.
Oh, she can’t take that back now. But… But no worries! She was the beloved Archon that had absolutely no issues performing for her people—ergo, she could totally come up with a new plan! Certainly, a single-word slip-up will surely not mess up her entire pickup line here.
“Yes, you heard me,” she played along, hands balling to fists and dramatically sitting at her hips. “Murder!”
“Furina!” Neuvillette silenced from his place below on the podium. Never before has she seen his facial expression this angered. There was a furrow between his brows that betrayed his usually calm and emotionless look—and aw, she thought it was so romantic for him to show these emotions so outwardly just for you! The audience must love his display of passion right now—all to defend your honor! “What is the meaning of this?” his voice boomed.
Furina cleared her throat. “Murder…” she began to make her case against you. You, who looked up at her so fearfully. She almost felt bad. “For… For breathing…!” Wait, that’s not what she meant. “No, no, like murder… of breath— of my breath— no, of Neuvillette’s breath, I mean—” Okay, at this point, she just needed to spit something out. And that was when she raised a finger, pointing it accusingly down at you and making her claim: “You killed Neuvillette!”
The next instance was filled with a silence so deafeningly powerful that she felt her own stomach churn and her knees grow shaky. Well, this was definitely an embarrassment she hopes to never feel again.
Surely, this silence wasn’t awkward enough for her land the finishing blow…?
“Like, you stole his breath away…” she tried. “So you technically killed him.”
Okay maybe it was time for her to shut up.
Neuvillette’s face; oh, he looked absolutely furious. This was not the picture-perfect sight of cherry tomato blushing she was hoping for here. And you: a horror-stricken disbelief. Your mind looked like it was racing to comprehend both being charged with such a serious crime, and having the Chief Justice just randomly outed in public for… having a crush on you…?
Meanwhile Furina stood still in her usual place, just about ready to curl up and die from her failed attempt at a love confession. But before that, perhaps Celestia heard her prayers.
The audience pretty much erupted in girlish screams and whispers—all those watchful citizens of Fontaine who treated your relationship with Neuvillette like the hottest topic of the century, like the storybook romance they were reading obsessively. And now, Furina watched—watched as your expression contorted to slow realization that maybe your Archon wasn’t exactly lying about Neuvillette’s feelings, and that maybe almost the entire nation was already romanticizing you two.
And then, there: that was when Furina watched as your face blew up an expression of pure embarrassment, all the fear being completely wiped away. Then Furina could almost die when she turned her gaze to Neuvillette—who was still watching you very intently—and how the ends of his ears turned a blushing red.
Oh, this view was priceless. Once again, perfect Focalors saves the day!
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KAMISATO AYATO.
Thoma clicked his tongue. “Tall and awkward.” He squinted his eyes. “Practically unrecognizable in Inazuma despite your status.” Then, he tilted his head. “Absolutely terrible at small talk.”
Finally, Thoma nodded his head. “Yep, you don’t have a chance, my Lord.”
Thoma yelped as a paper fan hit his shoulder, and that was when Ayaka slid at the seat next to him. He made a quick apology to her, but when Ayaka looked across the table, she saw how her older brother didn’t seem quite phased at Thoma’s mean evaluation at all.
Instead, he seemed to be really considering what was told to him.
“Oh, brother,” Ayaka caught his attention. “Don’t listen to Thoma, he was only being mean. Personally, I think you have a good chance at winning this date!”
“No, no, Thoma might be right,” Ayato pondered. Aw, Ayaka didnt like it when he doubted himself. “All of those traits may make this date go horribly wrong—I might end up appearing as undesirable…”
Ayaka frowned. She may not have a love life of her own, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t watching her brother’s love life like an Inazuman drama act or like a romantic storybook. And the fact that Ayato has downright fallen tremendously hard for you—who Ayaka also loved dearly, and who she admired so much—makes her pray to the Archons every night for your relationship to set sail.
So Ayato scoring this first date with you was already a big deal on its own. Only… He wasn’t quite sure what date plan would make him the most appealing man to be courting you.
Of course, who else could he turn to, other than his darling best friend and sister? Ayaka certainly had no expertise in this, but if there was one thing…
“Brother, please take this!” Across the table, she shoved a stack of just a few papers, slightly faded and lightly wrinkled, into his hands. He blinked in surprise at them for a moment before squinting at the rushed handwriting that clearly did not belong to his sister. “The Traveler gave this to me; It’s a recipe for a pizza dish from Mondstadt!
And that was how she ended up here, watching with Thoma from the sidelines of the estate as Ayato gives you the friendliest smile can force upon himself as he offers to make the both of you food. Now, the last time Ayaka tried this, she blew up the oven with the Traveler in earshot. But surely, she knew her brother had much better survival skills than she did, and there was no way he would ruin a perfectly easy pizza recipe.
But then Thoma almost burst out laughing from their secluded hiding spot, and that was when she noticed her brother bringing out not one, but instead two platters of pizza. A rather odd aroma in the air. Oh.
“I thought we’d spice things up!” they heard Ayato say to you, clasping his gloved hands together and regaining his weird, excited smile and that equally weird, excited tone in his voice. Oh brother… “One pizza is normal, and the other pizza has random toppings I threw on it—as a taste test!”
And when he set the two down, it was… quite interesting. One was a normal mushroom pizza, cooked based on Traveler’s recipe: Ayato certainly made it much better than Ayaka could’ve attempted. But the second pizza was topped with a rather colorful palette: lavender melons, sea grass, and what looked like Sea Ganoderma. Ayaka and Thoma already found themselves gagging at the smell.
When Ayaka glanced at her blonde companion, he was furiously shaking his head at her, running a thumb straight across his throat as if saying “It’s over for him.” And honestly, Ayaka might have to agree this time. Maybe she should’ve never given him that pizza recipe or that cooking idea.
“A ‘taste test’…” you echoed. The two eavesdroppers heard shifts from your side do the table, meaning you reached forward to grab a slice—they quite obviously guessed you picked the regular mushroom pizza. “The host should go first, don’t you think?”
Oh? Did that mean you were interested in this game of two after all? Ayaka’s eyes practically lit up—She was so excited for her brother!
“I’ll take up that offer of yours,” Ayato chuckled lowly. And with no gag or hesitance at all, he takes a large bite with a whole unsavory mixture of the ingredients entering the cave of his mouth. “Mm, not bad at all.”
You were visibly surprised by his calmness, now reaching out to grab a slice of your own and biting it just as he did.
But almost immediately, that bite was spat right back out onto a napkin at the mere taste of this weird concoction. “Bleh, Lord Commissioner! How did you manage to eat a whole slice?!”
The first thing Ayaka and Thoma noticed: The way you said this was amidst laughter. You were laughing, and it even sounded like you were smiling. Because whenever Ayato tried this sort of gross mixing method with Thoma or Ayaka, they would also say the same line of disgust, but in an unfavorable way. But, no—You sounded genuinely lighthearted?
The second thing Ayaka and Thoma noticed ( from even the slightest of peeks ): The big, bona fide grin on Ayato’s face at your reaction. Oh, he was absolutely eating this up, as no one ever showed a positive reaction to his weird little hobby before. And of course, being partnered with the fact he was ( not-so ) secretly in love with you, only made it so much better for him.
“It was alright, I’d say!” he spoke excitedly, a hint of an uncontrollable laughter and uncontrollable smile laced in his voice. “It had the most memorable texture, and the taste felt like I was in touch with mother nature.”
You only scoffed at him in a joking manner, “None of those ‘compliments’ of yours weren’t inherently positive, Commissioner.”
To that, he gave you another big grin before silently reaching to eat yet another slice of this suspicious pizza. Well, Ayaka supposed her brother’s weirdness landing a perfect date with you, after all. And then she pat herself on the back—because maybe, giving him that recipe was the best mistake she could make.
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// not proofread ;; THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FUNNIER THAN INTENDED. BUT IM BAD AT BEING FUNNY :(
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tojipie · 1 year
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prison bf series linked here !
hii ! not rly phone sex, but sex nonetheless. i’m rly loving this series <33 prison toji unboxing fic coming someday in the distant future.
content: nsfw + phone sex
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the sudden vibrations of your phone’s ringer rips you from the boundary between sleep and awareness. you groggily reach for the device from it’s place under your pillow, clicking the off button twice to end the call.
the number rings again, then a third time before you finally pick up, ready to tear into the poor soul on the other line. it’s a facetime call from an area code you don’t recognize, probably just a misdial if you’re lucky.
you hesitantly accept and tilt the camera towards the ceiling, shielding your face from the stranger.
“hello..?” you mumble sleepily, trying to get a good look at your phone without revealing too much of yourself. the person’s screen is grainy from the lack of light, probably calling you on an older model.
the stranger’s camera pans down, revealing familiar tufts of straight raven hair. toji stares up at you from his bunk, shirtless with the sheets bunched up to his chest.
“you too good to pick up the phone now?” he asks, clearly teasing. the inmate’s voice is quiet, coming out in choppy rivets as his dated microphone picks up what it can.
“toji!?” you whisper scream, sitting up to turn your beside lamp on. the additional light helps illuminate your figure better, you notice his eyes perk up at the clearer sight of you.
“mmmh, happy to see you babydoll.” he grins, leaning closer to get a good look at you. your eyes are puffy with the promise of rest, giving you that extra bought of softness he loves so much.
“oh shit, were you sleeping? m’ sorry.”
he doesn’t sound sorry at all.
“nono i’m awake.” you reassure the older man, taking in the sight of him laid out on the narrow cot. your boyfriend had aged since the beginning of his sentence, though you figure that’s not out of the ordinary for someone serving time. “how’d you even get a phone?”
“s’ a secret.” he muses, clearly finding the situation amusing. “i get to talk to my baby though, isn’t that nice?” he states plainly, shifting to prop his head up with his hand.
“it is, actually.” you mumble apologetically, feeling bad at your initial lack of a greeting. “m’ happy you called me.”
you pause, choosing your next words carefully “don’t you have bunkmates?” you wonder, searching the background for any signs of other men in the dark cell. the promise of being ratted out by a cell mate was one that wouldn’t end well for either of you.
“nah, lawyers said i’m too dangerous to be staying in D-block with everyone.” he states boredly, shifting again to lie on his back with a grunt.
“wh— are you serious?” you whine, already mulling over the countless conversations you’ve had with him regarding his nasty fighting habit.
“pfttt, no?” the inmate chuckles, throwing his head back with a hearty laugh. “last guy in the cell got out on wednesday, ‘s just me in here till’ my sentence is up.”
he stills, looking you up and down quickly.
"fuck." he grumbles, you look real pretty right now."
you sigh in relief, ignoring the compliment to continue grilling him. “so you’ve been getting along with people?” you ask, skill skeptical.
“you know—hah- how i am.” he tells you, clearing his throat before continuing. the screen begins to wobble a little, blurring his figure for a moment. “when have i —fuck- ever been out of line, huh? ”
“i think you were pretty out of line when you went to fucking jail.” you tease, pausing to analyze his hurried breaths on the other line.
“toji? do you feel ok?” you ask, wishing you were there to check up on him.
“yeah—mmgh- why? his camera starts to pan up shakily, phone slipping from his hand. the last of his facade shatters as a pleased groan rings out in the tiny cell.
“fuck.” he whines, “fuck— oh my god. you’re gonna make me fucking cum.”
“show me.” you command, finally piecing everything together.
the older man flips the camera and brings it right up to his hard cock, stroking it from the base up with vigor.
his tip is an angry pink, weeping milky precum down his shaft to glaze his knuckles. the sounds coming from your phone are absolutely filthy, a hot mix of pants, groans and expletives .
“oh my god.” you giggle, propping your phone up to watch better. “is that all for me?” the dips and hills of his abs jolt as he laughs.
“all for you.” he pants, bucking his hips up every time his fist meets his tip.
“is this why you called me?” you tease, watching his cock bob back and forth in his hand. the older man stops to thumb his slit, massaging milky pre into the tip before starting up again. “you just wanted to get off? didn’t wanna talk to me or nothing?”
“no—hah. i mean—.” he groans, clearly too out of it to answer. “fuck. fuck i’m close.”
you squeeze your legs together to quell the ache between your thighs, content to just watch him enjoy himself.
sharing a room with 4 other people means little to no time alone, that much you knew from your visits. it wasn’t rare for him to pitch a tent during your supervised phone calls, squeezing his cock behind a glass barrier while you gushed about your day.
a hearty groan knocks your train of thought loose as ropes of cum stream down his knuckles and onto the sheets. you watch in awe as he milks his dick, slapping it onto his stomach for the added simulation.
you wait until his breaths even out to speak, watching him grab a towel from off camera to clean himself up.
“feel better?” you ask, so badly wishing you were there to kiss him in the midst of his afterglow.
“so much better.” he sighs, shifting to lay on his side again.
“they definitely heard you. i mean those rooms don’t have doors right?”
“of course they fucking have doors.” he grumbles, clearly embarrassed at the thought of getting caught dick-in-hand.
“did you..” he trails off, rubbing his eyes with a soft yawn.
“too tired.” you state plainly, shifting the focus from your pleasure to his.
“i don’t deserve you.” he mumbles, dark eyes barely open.
“course you do baby.” you whisper. “you wanna head to bed? i’m coming up on thursday to visit.”
“you are?” the excitement in his voice is adorable.
“mhm, might even bring you a charger for that piece of shit burner you swiped.”
the jab earns you a booming laugh, lulling you back to the precipice of sleep.
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tag list ! <3 🏷️
@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa
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remuslovebot · 4 months
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felix catton fic where he loves reader but she doesn’t notice <3
omggg okay so i think it would be super interesting if this fic was told in his pov. please be kind, im not great at first person. :)
pairing: felix catton x fem!reader
warnings: use of y/n, farleigh being goofy and helpful, possessive!felix, some sexual language, angst with a happy ending.
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I saw her come into the library with a stack of books for Farleigh and I. Her smile lit up the room and I felt my cheeks pull into a grin.
Before she sat down at our table, I heard Farleigh say to me. “It’s never going to happen.”
I turned to him, my cheeks felt hot. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied, brushing off the fact of Farleigh knowing about my feelings for her.
She walked to the table, placing down the books. “You won’t believe what I found. They have first editions of all my favorite classics. It’s impressive,” she smiled.
God she was so pretty when she smiled. It made my stomach fill with butterflies.
“It’s Oxford, of course they do,” Farleigh snapped sarcastically with a laugh.
I glared at Farleigh. I wish he wasn’t so rude sometimes. I looked to y/n cheerfully, “that’s wonderful. I’m glad you found what you were looking for.”
Her big doe like eyes looked into mine. I swear she was like a breath of fresh air. I’d never seen someone shine the way she did. Y/n sat down next to me and I put my arm around her shoulders.
Y/n didn’t seem to argue or even notice. She never noticed my feelings.
“So, the pub tonight?” Farleigh asked. I nodded and now all eyes were on Y/n.
“I can’t tonight. I have a date,” Y/n said sheepishly.
I looked at her in surprise, but then of course she would have a date. She was beautiful and funny. She was smart, always helping me with my homework or studying.
“Oh?” Farleigh said, his eyebrows wiggling. “Tell us more,” he said, looking at me and then to her.
“Well his name is Evan,” she explained. “I met him in my art history course, we sit together. “He asked me out for dinner and I said yes.”
I wanted to ring Evan’s neck. How dare he steal Y/n away from me. She was mine, I love her. Woah love? Maybe. Possibly. Yes.
Farleigh was already giving her advice and I stayed unusually quiet. I couldn’t tell her it was wonderful, because it wasn’t. This was dreadful. I didn’t want to lie to her.
“Felix? Are you okay,” I hear her sweet voice ask. I look at my hand and it’s clutched tightly around my pen.
I dropped my pen and looked at Y/n. “I need to go,” I say, grabbing my books and binder. I stood up and walked out of the library.
This was maddening. How could she not see how much I cared for her? And now she has to go to stupid Evan and ruin my plans.
The next day, I stayed out of her sight. I couldn’t bare to look at her. I was jealous and heartbroken. I had assumed the date had gone well, because from my window I saw my Y/n with him.
Farleigh came to my room later that day. “You need to tell her how you feel,” he said.
I grumbled in response. “There’s no point, she doesn’t love me.”
“That’s not true. She talks about you all the time. It’s exhausting,” Farleigh whined.
“You’re being serious?” I asked, looking at him in shock. Farleigh only looked at me like I was crazy.
“Yeah,” he said rolling his eyes. “Tell her how you feel for gods sake.” He said.
“What about Evan?” I asked, although truthfully I didn’t care.
Farleigh rolled his eyes, “What about Evan, you could have anyone you wanted,” he insisted.
So I thought I would tell Y/n how I felt.
Later, she and I were hanging out in my dorm room. I was smoking a cigarette and she was reading by my window. I looked up at her from my spot on the floor and admired her. She was perfect. Her concentration was intriguing.
“Y/n,” I hummed, taking a drag of my cigarette.
“Yes, Felix,” she replied. I held back a groan at my name on her lips. It turned me on.
“I need to tell you something,” I began to confess. I put out my cigarette and I sat up, looking at her seriously.
She looked at me quizzically and I felt my cheeks go red. “I don’t like you with Evan. I don’t think he deserves you,” I said.
Her eyebrows furrowed and I walked towards my window, closer to her.
“Any why is that exactly,” she replied, putting down her book.
“It’s because—it’s because, well, I love—I’m in love with you,” I said softly, looking down her gorgeous face.
Y/n was in shock, or at least that’s how she looked. “You love me?” She asked and I nodded. Of course I loved — love — her.
She stood up from my windowsill and up at me. “I don’t understand,” she said.
“What don’t you understand? I can’t stand to see you with him, I’d rather you be with me,” I insisted.
“I can’t Felix,” she said, voice cracking.
Tears came to my eyes, “What? Why?” I asked.
She sighed, “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this? For the day when you would pluck up the courage to ask me out,” she said.
I had no idea.
“Of course I love you too,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief.
In an instant I pulled her to me and kissed her roughly. She kissed me back, her tongue entering my mouth. My body was on fire, she tasted of coffee and cigarettes — smelled of vanilla and rose.
I moaned her name as we continued to devour each others faces. She loved me and I would never let her forget it.
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apollodarling-writes · 6 months
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thinking about task force 141 + könig with a gen z! reader.
tws : some suggestive themes but nothing explicit, cursing, ghost has no problem with the reader slapping his ass pls don’t mistake it as being nonconsensual
edit : it’s come to my attention that some of you are confused as to why i made a post like this. this post was made to be satirical and cringey and embarrassing. i am part of gen z and using the terminology that was all the rage in recent years to make something like this. it’s not a serious post. it’s made to appear the way it appears.
reader, walking past soap : youre looking very submissive and breedable today, johnny.
soap, shaking his head and tutting : i am not!
reader : big talk for someone within breeding distance.
ghost, trying to make a cup of coffee :
reader who takes notice of ghost’s ass and slaps it : god damn! i knew you had jiggle physics
ghost, slowly setting down his cup and turning his head : i’m giving you a five second headstart.
reader realizing they fucked up : oh shit.
reader knocking on price’s office door : knock knock! can i enter, captain price?
price, trying to finish his stack of paperwork and knows reader is up to something : …sure
reader : this is a vibe check! what do you think of this?
price, glancing between the picture and reader : … its nice.
reader whose eyes light up : you, my good sir, have officially passed the vibe check and that is why you’re my favorite captain.
price, exasperated : im your only captain.
ghost talking to soap : johnny, you ever feel… lost?
reader suddenly appearing with stress balls and plushies : here, these help me! this weighted stuffed animal hits different, so i recommend it personally.
ghost :
soap : where the hell did you even come from??
reader posing for a picture with the team before a mission : and everybody say “in our special ops era”!
the team, sullenly : in our special ops era…
reader : damn guys, this lighting is doing wonders for our dark circles.
könig trying to carve something for reader: hmm.. this side looks a little bit off…
reader bounding over to könig : heyy babygirl!
könig scrambling to hide it : scheiße, i thought they were busy!
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comatosebunny09 · 5 months
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insecurities | astarion a.
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summary: “why don’t you like me?” he asks, his voice small amid the symphony of the forest dwellers. you choke on your spittle. how unlike your undead friend to sound so unsure of himself.
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The night is quiet.
Most of your companions have retired to their tents. Tending to their weapons, reading, sleeping.
You’re left by the fire, snapping twigs to further kindle it. You smile quietly. The atmospheric pop and fizz bring you comfort as a summery breeze slides in.
You turn away in search of more wood when you hear a weighted sigh, followed by the thunk of the log behind you.
Seems someone’s decided to impede on your party of one.
You spin around to see your favorite vampire sitting opposite you on the log, his features accentuated by the fire. Astarion watches you with a pout on his lips and his brows knit together. You snort, wholly prepared for him to complain about something.
“What’s wrong, sunshine?” you query, squatting and poking around the campfire. “Our lodgings not to your liking? You break a nail? A rat crawl up into your ass?” Your eyes crinkle with mirth. 
Astarion leans back on his hands, one leg crossed over the other. He stares at you with those petulant eyes, studying you for a beat. It’s unlike him to be so serious. Silence stretches between you for a moment longer before he asks, “Why don’t you like me?”
You nearly choke on your spittle. His brazenness floors you. Literally. You plop down on the ground, dusting off your hands, your expression bemused. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, come now.” He crosses his arms. Looks off to the side, face screwing up into a scowl. “You haven’t slept with me. You shrug off all my advances. Hells, it feels like you won’t even give me the time of day.”
Another snort. Your tone drips with sarcasm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know I had to sleep with someone to show I cared.”
Astarion scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. “Bullshit. Have you seen me? I’m irresistible. The very definition of sex on legs, so I’ve been told. People would kill for a chance at me. And I would’ve bedded you a thousand times over, had you stopped playing hard to get.”
You sigh. Laugh a little disbelievingly, slowly standing. “Astarion—”
“I’m not your type, am I? Do you even have a type? It’s Halsin, isn’t it? That oaf of a druid.”
You caution a few steps around the fire towards him, your hands stretched out placatingly. You’re exasperated. “Astarion, look—”  
“I don’t blame you. I would’ve bedded him, too.”
“Astarion!” 
You’re in front of him now. Bent over, gathering his icy cheeks into your palms. He looks at you with confusion marring his features. You have his attention, nonetheless.  
Your eyes gloss over with wetness. A forlorn smile rounds your lips. Your chest swells with emotion, and you tuck some errant curls behind Astarion’s ear.
“I thought we knew each other better than that.” You swallow before wetting your lips. You look down at the ground, inhaling deeply. Kneel before him, taking up his hands with all the gentleness of the world, your eyes shining with the threat of tears.
“You are more than your body, Astarion. More than some fling. More than a romp in the dirt. I wish you could see that. Sex is nice. Gods, it can be such an incredible thing. But I don’t need it to know I mean something to you. And I don’t need it to show you I adore you.”
Astarion blinks. For a moment, only the two of you exist in this world of chirping crickets and crackling fire. Tenderness flashes across his face before the vampire chuckles softly, patting your hands, squeezing them. His lashes flutter. He’s breathtaking.
“You adore me, do you?” Astarion purrs, his cockiness returning tenfold. “I am rather amazing, aren’t I?” He leans back again to have a look at his nails, radiating smugness.
You snort, standing and wiping your hands on your breeches. “You just had to muck it up, didn’t you?” You can’t help the quirk of your lips as you turn back to tend to the fire.
“Darling. Who would I be if I didn’t?”
“And to think, I was just about to kiss you.”
The indignant sound Astarion releases behind you makes your ribs blossom with pride.
Ah, well. Maybe next time.
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fairlyang · 3 months
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Easy money I 🕷️
in which your roomie needs your help for a shoot
w/c: 3.1K
pairing: pornstaroomie!miguel x f!reader
tags: 18+ smut. tension, recording, groping, fingering, squirting
notes: all my readers loved this series and might’ve been peer pressured for a part 3 but I’m kinda excited to write it :D gonna post this rn and maybe part 2 tmrw, finish up all my part 3’s soon hopefully
part two — part three
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I heard a knock on my door so I lowered my music from my airpods. "Come in!" I yell and turn to look at my laptop.
I hear the door open and Miguel clears his throat, I turn around to look at him and raise an eyebrow, "what's up?"
"I need something from you...." He says and takes a step inside.
"Like what?" I ask and he takes another step forward.
"You're gonna have to hear me out alright?" He says and I narrow my eyes at him.
"Okay..." I say and take my airpods off leaving them on my desk before turning back to look at him, giving him my full attention.
"I need you to step in for tonight's shoot..." he says and I burst out laughing.
"Are you fucking joking?" I say and shake my head. Is this man serious?
"I need your help Y/n..." he says nearing the edge of my bed and I groan.
"Why me?"
"The girl I was gonna shoot with canceled on me last minute and all the girls I usually shoot with are unavailable." He explains and I blink.
"Andddd you are already here...." He adds and i scoff.
"Not really sure I'd wanna expose myself like that Miguel." I say and stand up, walking over to my bed and plop down on it.
He sighs and sits on the edge of it and looks at me with pleading eyes. "Please? For me?"
"And the camera would hide your face, so unless you have any noticeable tattoos on your lower body then I think you'd be in the clear." He says and I bite my lip. Well there lies the problem...
I blink looking at him in silence making him scoff as he widens his eyes slightly then his lips tug into a smirk. "Where do you have it?" he asks and I feel my face heat up.
"Uh that one spot that's like lower, inner hip..." I say quietly and turn my gaze to my window.
There was really no reason for me to be acting like this- but that tattoo wasn't exactly somewhere that most people in my life know.... So maybe... just maybe...
"No face?" I ask and he nods.
"You know I don't even show my face-" he says with a small smile.
"I know but I don't know if it's different for the girls you record with." I say and shrug.
"It depends on them mainly, I'm not gonna force anyone I work with to show their face if they don't want to." He says softly and I nod slowly.
"And you wanna do this like right now?" I ask and he nods again.
"Jesus-" I mutter and run a hand over my hair.
"Up to you but you know I have a lot of loyal subscribers and make decent money off this..." he says and I chuckle.
"Because the girls love your voice and body." I say and he smirks making me regret my choice of words. And queue to him being obnoxious about it...
"I-"
"Think so huh?" he teases in a cocky tone making me groan.
"Fuck off." I say and grab a random stuffed animal from my bed and throw it at his face.
He laughs and holds it, it was so small compared to his hands. Oh god-
I mean of fucking course I've noticed how fine he is- it was the first thing I noticed when I was interviewing people to be my roommate, he was the hottest man that came in needing a place to stay.
I didn't just decide on him because he was hot but because he seemed chill and not like someone that would murder me in my sleep.
But I never made a move on him, neither did he. We've just always had some type of tension that neither of us ever paid attention to... I guess until now..
"So what exactly did you plan to shoot?" I ask and let out a sigh.
He grins and scoots closer now sitting by my legs as they were stretched out. "I was thinking fingering."
I nod and bite my lip, "hmm.."
"Up to you I won't force you but just think of the fact that you'd be getting paid to get fingered." He says and I snicker.
Sounds like easy money...
And I'd get an orgasm out of it...
"50% of whatever the video makes will go to you." He says and I bite my lip.
"You're really laying it on thick there Miguel... you that desperate?" I tease and he playfully rolls his eyes.
"Yeah actually, so just let me know within the next hour before I just decide to do a solo vid." He says and stands up.
I sigh and nod, "I'll... think about it...." He smirks and gives me a wink before opening the door and walking out, closing it behind him.
I sigh and lay down on my bed, should I?
I mean there's no denying the fact that I always listen in when he has someone over to record... or even checked out a few of his videos on pornhub...
maybe even possibly masturbated to a few of his audios... or the ones where he fucks himself with a fleshlight...
Letting out those incredible moans for everyone's very own pleasure, how selfless.
But he wanted to record for onlyfans which was for the ones who specifically pay to view his content, which apparently was a lot and the thought alone was a little nerve wrecking.
What if someone I've been with before recognized my tattoo and tells people I know? I'd be fucking done for and I'd just die on the spot of pure embarrassment.
But the money- how could I say no to that kind of money? Especially when seeing the views just his previews on pornhub get-
I'd be so fucking stupid to pass this opportunity...
Fuck it.
I get up from my bed and walk to my door quickly opening it before stepping out onto the hallway. I then do the walk of shame and walk to Miguel's room.
I made my mind up a little too fast god I'm not gonna hear the end of this from him-
I step in front of his door and knock twice before hearing a laugh. I groan and cross my arms across my chest, patiently waiting for him.
He opens the door with a wide smile but before I could even say a word my eyes trailed down his chest then to his abdomen. A small happy trail going down caught my eye as a pair of grey sweatpants hugged his hips perfectly.
God he looked so good...
Wait- how the fuck did he change so fast?
"Did you just assume I was going to say yes?" I ask, quickly looking up at him.
He shrugs and opens his door wide, motioning for me to step inside. I roll my eyes but walk in nonetheless, seeing that he was indeed very desperate for this. And apparently eager.
"I knew it'd be something hard for you to say no to." He says and shrugs, closing the door behind him.
"And I had an idea for more anonymity..." he says and walks past me.
He walks over to his desk and picks up two masks, robber masks. "We could put these on." He says and throws me a pink one.
I catch it and look down at it, cute.
"Just casually had these huh?" I mutter and play with it between my fingertips.
It only had three holes, obviously for the eyes and mouth. It honestly didn't shock me too much that he had these especially considering he didn't make content showing his face at all.
"Alright ready?"
"Where are we doing this? Should I change? Should I put makeup on-"
"Calm down-" he says and laughs, shaking his head at my sudden worries.
"We're doing this in my bathroom, I already set the camera and lights up." He explains and I nod.
"As for your clothes if you want I can give you one of my shirts and you can just leave your panties on." He says looking me up and down.
I wearing a SZA shirt with Cookie Monster pajama pants.... Yeah I definitely could've changed but maybe got a tiny bit excited..
He walked over to his dresser and picked the first one of top and then tossed it over to me. I caught it and unfold it to reveal a Nirvana tee. I shrug and walk over to his bathroom with him right on my tail.
I walk in then stop and quickly turn around to point a finger at him, "you're waiting- you can wait a few more minutes there O'Hara." He chuckles and backs up letting me close the door.
I quickly take off my tee shirt and put the one he gave me on. I leave my shirt on the sink then I slip out of my pj pants and realize it wasn't a big deal if he watched because he was going to see it all right now anyway.....
I look in the mirror and take a deep breath, I was really going to do this.... We were really going to do this...
I then take notice of the ring light and tripod that were right in front me. This was getting so real so fast and it was making me more nervous than I expected.
I breathe in then breathe out. I do it a couple more times and feel some nerves leave my body but some still lingering around.
I turn around and walk towards the door, I open it wide and Miguel stands up from his bed and walks over. "Finally." He teased and I chuckle.
"My bad." I mutter, turning back around and walk to the sink, leaning against it as Miguel walks in.
"You're good, don't worry it'll be fine." He reassured and gives me a small smile.
He walks over to his tripod and sets his phone on it and goes to the camera. He turns to me and motions for me to stand in front of the camera. I nod and do so, leaning against the seat with my nerves growing every second.
"Alright we're gonna start, if you need me to stop at any given moment just tap my thigh or anywhere twice okay?" He says and I nod.
"Audibly please?" He says and I chuckle.
"Yes I understand."
"Okay good." He says and throws me the pink robber mask.
I move all my hair to my back then slip it on. I fix the holes to align to my mouth and eyes then see Miguel doing the same. "This'll be fun." He mutters with a slight smirk on his face then he presses the button to record.
He walks over to me and gently puts his hands on my cheeks then leans in. I lean up and he leans down removing the last amount of space between us and crashes his lips onto mine. I kiss back and put a hand to his jaw and the other on his neck.
I then feel his hands slide down my body, at first staying at my waist, gripping my skin softly through the shirt until his hands go lower and his fingertips are playing with the hem of his shirt, near my ass.
He slid his tongue in my mouth and continues toying w his shirt, bringing it up slowly as our tongues fight for dominance but I stood no chance. Suddenly I feel a hard smack against my ass making me moan in his mouth.
He smiles and pulls away just to go down and start leaving open mouthed kisses on my neck. I sigh and tilt my head to the side as he slightly moves the mask to leave a mark where he wanted. He sucked on my skin then licked it softly before leaving a kiss on it.
I smile and grab his head, making sure he stayed in place as he kept playing with the skirt. He pulls away again and this time bringing the hem of the shirt up, slowly. He turns me around slowly so my behind is what the camera will see and lifts the shirt completely over my ass.
Another smack.
Then to the other cheek.
Another smack on each one, definitely already making them red and it seemed like he wanted to keep going because of the noises that were leaving his mouth. Such delicious groans.
He keeps pulling it up, exposing my entire bare back to the camera but my tits to him. He quickly brings it up and over my head, throwing it on the floor then quickly cups my tits and squeezes.
I gasp when he pinches both nipples then quickly turns me around so my ass was on his already hard bulge. His hands continue squeezing and I felt purely at bliss, heaven on earth even.
I lay my head back against his chest which makes him lean down and leave a kiss on my neck then suck gently on the skin as his hands continued kneading my tits.
His right hand then lets go of my boob and slowly trails down my stomach, as if easing me in, making me feel comfortable first. I grab on to his left arm and try to stand still, I already felt like I was going to go crazy and maybe fall over.
My fucking roommate was doing this- and he had such a good hand for these things so this was gonna be perfect.
His hand goes between my legs, gently rubbing my pussy through my panties. I spread my legs to help him out when he starts rubbing circles on my clit. I moan and buck my hips forward, already wanting more.
And he gives me just that, he starts going faster and I could feel my wetness seeping through the fabric of my little panties. "Miguel-"
He hums then rubs along my slit, my arousal already able to soak his fingers. How embarrassing.
He then removed his fingers making me whine until he pulls my panties down and lets them slide off my legs. I step out of them and kick them farther out, out of shot.
I spread my legs again and he doesn't hesitate to immediately start rubbing my clit again, not caring to ease me in anymore. He moans into my ear and dips his fingers on to my folds, my wetness enveloping them as he teases my hole making me grip harder onto his arm.
He moved that arm to grip on to my waist while I still held on to it for dear life. I couldn't trust myself to stand I knew I'd just end up falling and he was a big boy, he could handle me.
He then slid a finger in, slow at first until he slammed it in without warning. I gasped and clung on to his arm. He then started pumping in and out, deep and slow.
He started going faster, hitting deeper now until he fully stopped and added a second finger in. He started moving again, going faster and harder, making me a moaning mess as I looked down to watch in awe.
"Look how easy you're taking me baby." He murmurs in my ear and I couldn't help the whimper that came out of me.
"Feels so good-" I moan and he hums, pumping them even faster.
I felt myself clench against his fingers and listen to how fucking soaked I am, he barely even touched me..
"Rub your clit for me." He whispers and I nod, immediately bringing my right hand down to rub my clit in fast circles.
I moan out for him and he coos dirty little nothings into my ear as he starts curling his fingers up and hitting that sweet spot every time.
I was starting to feel my orgasm creep in already which had me shocked but then realized who was the one doing this to me...
"Fuck- Miguel-" I moan and lay my head back against him, he leans down to kiss my cheek oh so sweetly.
He then brings his open hand and starts pinching my left nipple, I felt my legs shake as he continued and I was slowly down because I was feeling so fucking close.
"Don't stop baby, be a good girl and keep rubbing that clit until you cum for me sweet girl." He murmurs and I whimper, clenching against his fingers as I rub my clit faster feeling that knot in my stomach about to burst.
"Miguel please- so cl-"
I dig my nails into his arms making him groan but he didn't say to stop. I felt my eyes growing hazier by the second and my thighs were trembling more and more by the second.
Suddenly I see white, I cry out and feel my climax crash and take over my body. I closed my eyes and almost fell to my knees, had Miguel strong arm not held me. My legs were trembling and Miguel's fingers were still inside, slowly fucking me through my orgasm.
I held onto him for dear life and start to calm my breathing down as I open my eyes, then quickly widening in pure shock, I had squirted all over the place.
I gasp and move my hand away from my clit, I stood silent, still in Miguel's arms in pure embarrassment. Squirting always felt so embarrassing, especially now because I didn't even mean to-
"That was probably the most perfect shoot I've done thus far." Miguel says making me scoff.
"I'm being so serious." He says finally taking his fingers out of me slowly and brings it up to his lips.
I tilt my head and look up, watching as he sucks on his fingers covered in my juices. Holy fuck.
I blink watching him as if in a trance, then he looks me directly in my eyes making me subconsciously squeeze my thighs together.
He takes them out with a plop and gives me a wide grin, "sorry but we have to do that again in the future...."
I laugh and look down embarrassed, I shrug and straighten up, "I guess we'll have to see if the people liked it..."
"I'm sure they will." He says and laughs.
"Let's get ya cleaned up then maybe we can watch a movie, if you'd like." He suggests and I look up at him and nod.
"That'd be perfect."
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stevenose · 10 months
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win with you (18+)
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summary: your bantering with steve comes to a head (lol get it)
contains: smut! 18+ only! steve x reader; reader with a vagina; fem!aligned reader; fingering (reader receiving); handjob (steve receiving); bantering; some pining; cutie ending
author’s note: let’s try not to plagiarize this one luvs xx
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Steve’s not even drunk and he’s still annoying. Making you grit your teeth in the passenger seat while he’s being cocky and what he must think is comedic.
“Admit it,” he says. His smile is all teeth. “You love watching me do keg stands.”
“I was literally not even outside when you did that.”
“Then what’s got your panties in a bunch, huh?”
He’s being mean about it, but he doesn’t mean to be. He doesn’t know you’re head over heels for him. Catching you gawking at him isn’t all that serious to Steve. He just thinks it’s funny.
You don’t.
“Who says it’s you?”
“I do. Jesus, should’ve seen your face. Looked like you saw a God. You think I’m pretty, babe?” And he laughs.
“Shut up!”
“If it wasn’t the keg then what was it? Grinding on people? My outfit? My jeans a little too tight?”
You want to throw yourself out of the car. “Steve, stop!”
“So you’re saying you’re not wet right now?”
“Oh, my god. No.”
You are. You have been since he picked you up to go to this stupid ass party. Maybe if he didn’t hold the door open for you, or put his hand on your lower back to guide you inside, or wink at you from across the room when someone was holding him up you’d be dry. But you’re not. Not like you can help it.
“Okay, so prove it.”
You look over at him finally, his smile more relaxed and bemused. “How?”
Steve holds his hand out towards you, elbow resting on the center console. “Give me your underwear.”
Your stomach flips and your face gets hot. “You’re disgusting,” you scoff, looking back out the window so he doesn’t see how phased you are.
“So you won’t?”
“No!”
“Fine.” He rests his outstretched hand back on his thigh. “I’ll just assume you’re wet since you’re so embarrassed.”
You grit your teeth hard. “Will you shut up for the rest of the drive if I do?”
“For tonight only? Sure.”
“You swear?”
“Swear.”
You huff, incredulous at yourself, as you slip your underwear down your thighs, pulling them over your heels at the ankle. There’s an evident wet patch, stringy with your arousal, and you’re about to shove them back on before Steve grabs your wrist. “We made a deal,” he reminds.
You practically throw them at him, crossing your arms over your chest as he lets his eyes wander from the road to the silk in his hand. “Oh, Jesus,” he says. “I fuckin’ knew it.”
You try to snatch them from him, but he’s already pulling off to the side of the road to get a real good look at them. You hide your head in your hands when he turns the overhead light on, gasping a little. “Wow. All this for me?”
You growl. “Who said it was for you?”
“You know I’m teasing,” he says, but he still grips your underwear in his hand. “Who’s the lucky guy?”
Your head races because you actually weren’t expecting him to ask that. “Um. Uh - Brady. Brady Tyler?”
Steve scoffs. “That dumbass with two first names? He sat by the chip bowl all night.”
“Well, I like chips.” Your hand reaches for the silk and again, he pulls away.
“You like chips, or you like Brady?”
His brow is quirked. He’s staring you down and he has to know it’ll get even more of a rise out of you.
“This is humiliating,” you sigh, finally getting your hands back on your underwear. “Can you just take me home like I asked?”
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you-“
“Bullshit, Steve,” you spit, staring out the window again as he kicks the car back into drive. “You like it when I get embarrassed, you think it’s funny.”
“Well, a little,” he admits. “But I didn’t mean for you to get uncomfortable. Really.”
“How did you even know I was wet?” you ask after a while.
Steve bites his lip and drums on the steering wheel. “You want me to be honest?”
“You look up my skirt or something?”
“No. I just - I could - I could, like, smell it.”
You throw your hand against his arm fast and hard and he groans.
“Why do you say shit like that?”
“Well, I - I did! Moment you got into the car - it’s not - it’s not like it’s bad, I just - you know?”
“‘Not like it’s bad’? Oh, tell me, Steve, did it make you hard?”
You’re trying to get a rise out of him to satiate your own anger. It’s a lot easier (and admittedly more fun) when the bickering goes both ways. But he stills, pulling onto your street, going quiet.
“Did it?”
“We’re almost -“
“No way! You did not just make me show you my underwear to avoid this now.”
“It’s gettin’ late -“
“Let me feel, then.”
“Huh?”
“Only fair, right? You got to hold my underwear, I think feeling your dick is less intimate.”
“That’s absolutely not true -“
“Will you let me?”
Steve groans and pulls up to your apartment, throwing it in park and turning to face you. “Fine,” he huffs, taking your hand and moving it to his left thigh.
“No,” you scold, breaking into a smile. “That’s not the side you tuck it into.”
He seems to grow a little pale. “How do you know?”
“Everyone knows, Steve, not like you’re -“
Your hand hits his hard on and you both gasp at it. It would be comical except for the implications that you’re both horny for the other. You let your hand stay for a moment, watching Steve’s dark eyes flit down, then back up to yours. He licks his bottom lip.
“Not like I’m what?” He finally asks, voice cracking.
You blink, heart racing. You lick your lips, too. “Not like you’re small,” you mumble. “Your jeans are really tight,” you add.
You can feel his cock kick under your palm and you experimentally press down with the heel of it. Steve gasps, head leaning back against the seat. His jaw drops. You’ve never seen him so lost for words before.
“Is that good?” you ask dumbly, still using the heel of your palm on him.
He sighs and licks his lips, highlighted hair falling over his forehead. “Uh-huh.”
You’re shy. Even with your hand on him. You pull back but he takes your hand again, pressing it down on his cock and grinding up into it. Both of your eyes widen, your throat going dry. You can’t speak, so you just continue, rubbing him through those stupid dark wash Levis.
“You- w-were hard for me all night?” you finally whisper, stuttering a bit. You swallow hard.
“Yeah,” he says, leaning back against the window so he’s facing you. “Ever since I….”
“Picked me up?”
“Please,” Steve asks hoarsely, his hands moving to the waistband of his jeans. “I gotta - it hurts.”
“Oh,” you whisper, removing your hand so he can shove his jeans down his thighs. He’s left in his boxers, and his unfocused eyes flick up to meet yours for approval. “You’re wet, too,” you say, reaching out with a finger to touch the wet spot where the tip of his cock is.
“Shit,” he hisses, leaning back again. “More, please.”
You realize your power here, as his adam’s apple bobs, as his cheeks turn red. It’s thrilling to have the upper hand. It makes it feel like you’ve won.
“It’s only fair that you give me yours, right?” you say, running the tip of your finger down his shaft. It’s begging to be let out. “Don’t you think, Steve?”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really,” you scoff, moving up to his waistband, letting it snap back against his stomach. “Gotta take a good look at what I’ve done to you.”
Steve moves surprisingly quickly, though a bit irritated. He hands his boxers over with a scrunched nose. “There.”
“Hmmph.” You punch the light above you on and grin widely as you examine them. The amount of precum is a little unbelievable, but it’s clear he’s been thinking about you just as much as you thought of him.
Steve mocks you, huffing with his arms crossed, dick out in the open. “What?”
“I think you made a bigger mess than me.”
“Absolutely n- oh!”
He throws his head back as your hand gently wraps around his length. It hits the window harshly and you laugh, but Steve’s incredibly serious. His hips thrust up into your hand desperately. His jaw’s gone slack again, eyes squeezed shut, fists balled up. You stroke him and beam when he inhales shakily, one hand coming down to rest lightly on yours.
“Not fair,” he heaves. “Didn’t get to touch you.”
You twist your wrist. “You want to?”
“Jesus, yes, of course,” he babbles. In the light of the car, you can see the faint line of the scar across his jugular. You want to lean forward and kiss it, lick it, soothe it. “Thought - th-thought touchin’ your underwear would be sp-spank material for months - wanna feel….”
“Wanna feel what?”
“Your pussy,” he nearly growls, bucking his hips upwards again. A hand goes up towards his hair, tangling his fingers in it. The sight makes your eyelids drop, your mouth salivate. He looks so wrecked and so big in your hand.
“Steve,” you moan, thumb swiping over his leaking tip. “Why didn’t you say somethin’?”
“Are we doing this here?” he breathes, suddenly punching the light out. He seems a little more focused. “I’m not a big fan of c-car sex.”
“What? Don’t wanna ruin the leather?”
“Shut up.”
“Is that how you should talk to me?”
“Y’know what turns me on?” he says, leaning forward, your hand still wrapped around him. His hands make their way between your legs, big and warm on your inner thighs. Your hand stops moving now, feeling a little less in charge with him looming over you. “When you get irritated with me.”
You laugh breathlessly. “Y’must be turned on a lot then.”
Steve’s knuckle grazes over your swollen clit. You gasp and squeeze his cock, your other hand gripping the door handle behind you. “Oh, I am.”
It’s quiet as he touches you. You can’t meet his coffee colored eyes while he rocks the joins of his fingers against your clit. He soon manages to work his way underneath the fabric of your underwear and you both gasp.
“Jesus, she’s cryin’, huh? Wanted me so bad all night,” he coos, now using the pads of his fingers to stroke up and down your folds. You shiver and try to keep up your own strokes, but it’s insanely difficult when he’s touching you like this. You feel his cock flex in your palm and it makes you clench up. “Come on, thought you were touching me.”
“Shut up,” you grit, “your stupid dumb fingers are distracting me.”
He chuckles, pressing two fingers right against your entrance before pulling away. “They are, aren’t they? Needed me, didn’t you?”
“Just needed something.”
“Sure, like Chip Bowl.” He scoffs. “You could’ve made up a much better lie, y’know.”
You jerk Steve off again, trying to get back a bit of your authority. He groans low in his throat, breaking it off with another laugh. “Could’ve - picked - a-anyone else-“
“Yeah, well,” you breathe, fighting back a moan as his fingers work fast on your clit, your hand finding the same pace against his shaft. “Your nickname w-was f-fucking… the Hair.”
“That’s mean,” he whines. “Not like I chose it. Oh, fuck, honey-“
“And King Steve,” you continue, spreading your legs, pushing forward slightly to have better access to him. “Stupid.”
“You’re about to cum on his fingers,” he groans.
“Bullshit,” you moan, grabbing his shirt with your free hand. He’s got the top half unbuttoned, showing the hair on his chest, sleeves rolled up. If you look down, you can see the veins in his forearms pushing out as he works on your cunt. You pull him towards you and his lips land on your neck. He’s quick to suck an eager hickey into it.
“Gonna make me cum,” he whispers into your skin. “You- this isn’t how - mmmmmph - how I wanted….”
“Oh,” you breathe. Your wrist is starting to cramp but you maintain your pace. “You d-dreamed about this, huh?”
Steve licks a path up to your ear. “Like you haven’t.”
You grab his shirt harder, breathing heavily, panting while he rubs your clit. He bites into your neck, a whimper leaving his throat. “Ah,” he cries, rutting into your hand as you rut into his, “‘m gonna cum, shit!”
“On the leather?”
Your orgasm hits you fast and severe as he slides two fingers knuckle-deep into you. You gasp and swear, pushing yourself into him and pulling him onto you. Steve groans, cumming from the sensation of your tight walls around his digits, your hand pumping him through it. He forces himself off of your neck to press his lips harshly into yours and you both moan and lick into each other’s mouths until you need to pull back to breathe.
You can only stare at each other for a while. Your thumb rakes over Steve’s temple, rubbing away a stray drop of sweat. He looks drunk. Your chest heaves and he moves his hand to your thigh again, rubbing gently.
“Thanks for the ride,” you finally say, pushing his hair out of his face.
He smiles and nods. “You, too. Are you gonna let me in to clean up?”
You smile back. “Sure. But I’m not helping.”
“Awful rude of you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You notice now how hot you are, how radiant your cheeks have been. The intimacy of his kiss only makes you boil more. “How about you let me stay to make up for it?”
“You trying to sleep with me?”
“No,” he muses. “Just trying to win with you.”
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hysteria-things · 2 months
Note
hi! i recently found your account, and i js wanna say omg ur so talented, like ur fr my new fav writer. could u maybe write something about a virgin reader, whos only ever fingered herself, and so when matt (or chris but im a matt girl and im being self indulgent about this), and she squirts, and is super embarrassed about it and he comforts her about it? u dont have to, but idk i js think u could do this idea rlly well:)
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FIRST TIME
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft dom!matt x virgin!reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and matt have been together for quite sometime, but never had sex. he knows you’re a virgin and he’s so patient with you, but now you think you’re ready
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT but fluff!, making out, mini panic attack, praising, p in v, squirting
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,066
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: for anon and @mattsleftnipple03
these were pretty much the same so i combined them! hope you like :)
thank you and love you guys🫶
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the pen in your hand scribbles on the piece of paper in front of you as you ponder. you’re in art class and your best friend sits across from you at the big table.
art class is basically a free period because let’s face it, you guys don’t do anything except gossip and draw for fun.
you’ve been asking your friend a series of questions about what losing your virginity is like since she has experience. the only experience you’ve ever gotten was your fingers, and to be honest, it gets old after a while.
you’re not embarrassed about being a senior in high school and still a virgin, but your boyfriend who graduated last year lost his with his ex a while back. you guys have talked about having sex for the first time for quite some time, but you were never ready.
no words can describe how grateful you are for matt. he’s been super patient and understanding with you.
but now, you think you’re ready.
“is there a reason you are asking me these questions?” your best friend asks, raising a brow.
you shrug, your hand still having a mind of its own with the pen. “i’m thinking about going all the way with matt.”
she smiles, genuinely looking happy for you. “oh my god! when?”
“i told him i plan on this weekend.”
“that’s so exciting!”
“yeah, but,” you pause to take a deep breath. “i feel nervous.”
she reaches over to stop your drawing hand. “it’s totally normal to feel nervous. matt’s such a sweet guy. i’m sure if you feel the slightest bit of discomfort, he’ll stop immediately.”
you smile at the mention of your boyfriend. she’s not wrong. matt will do anything to make you feel comfortable. he’s not one to force anything on someone. “you’re right.”
she gives your hand a light squeeze. “let me know how it goes.” she winks just as the bell rings for dismissal.
the rain outside is pattering on the window, you and matt cuddling comfortably on his bed. you guys just woke up from the best nap of your life.
you nibble on the inside of your mouth. “matt?”
“hm?” he hums, picking up his head that was resting on your chest.
“i want to do it.”
he beams at you. “positive?”
you bite your lip in excitement and nod. matt lifts himself to get more serious. “don’t be afraid to tell me to stop, okay?”
“i know,” you reply. he leans in and kisses you passionately with a hint of hunger. he breaks the kiss to take off his and your shirt but goes back at it to unclip your bra.
the skin-to-skin contact felt warm and comforting, but your anxiety is starting to take over.
you try to brush it off until matt reaches for your pants. yanking his hands away, you cover your top half with the comforter as you feel tears start to form.
matt freezes, a hint of guilt on his face. you try your best to take as many deep breaths as possible. “i’m so sorry, y/n.”
he carefully places his hand on your arm and rubs soothingly to calm you down. “n-no it’s not you.” you take three deep breaths before continuing. “it’s silly. the thought of a penis about to be inside of me freaks me out.”
you chuckle along with him, the humor helping you relax. “we don’t have—”
“i want to.” you say truthfully. “i just need a second.”
he goes through different breathing techniques with you until you calm down from your mini panic attack. he asks if you're okay at least a hundred times before you shut him up by kissing him again.
he hesitates with your pants not wanting to trigger you again, but after a beat, he pulls them down with your underwear.
his pajama pants soon end up on the floor with the rest of your clothes. he comes under the blanket with you and pecks you on the temple, grabbing a condom from the nightstand. “so proud of you.” he starts, making you blush. “you ready?”
you give him the okay, and he slowly starts pushing into you. the stretch makes you cringe and hiss, causing him to halt. “hurts?”
you shake your head. “pressure… keep going.”
dampening your lips by licking them, he continues to move. his eyes are dead set on your face to sense any discomfort. you let out a ‘mmph’ when he’s all the way in.
when he doesn’t see any bad signs, he starts moving his hips. you moan softly, the pain turning into pleasure.
“you can go faster,” you whisper, and he does. your nails leave crescent marks on his shoulders as he peppers kisses on your chest, neck, and face.
you squeeze your eyes closed, the softest of sounds leaving your lips. then, your legs twitch, and a watery liquid squirts out of you. your eyes widen, and matt stops the second he notices. “what’s wrong? need me to stop?”
“no. i think i…” your cheeks burn, too embarrassed to admit what you’re thinking.
“that’s okay. it’s completely natural.” he reassures, grabbing one of your hands to interlock with his above your head. “you’re doing so well, y/n. so fucking proud of you.”
he continues to rock his hips, this time pulling out more and thrusting back in a smidge harder. “oh.” you moan, arching your back when he starts hitting a certain spot. “oh shit, matt. just like that.”
he tries his best not to pick up speed to scare you, so instead he keeps the rhythm you’re comfortable with. he grunts, taking the hand that’s not holding yours and placing it on your hip.
the grip you have on his hand tightens, indicating that you’re close when his tip keeps abusing your g-spot.
you whimper, your legs starting to quiver from pleasure. “i’m close.”
“cum, baby. you’re doing such a good job.”
you sigh of relief when your cum slowly starts to ooze around him. matt’s right there with you with just a few more thrusts before spilling into the condom.
the feeling of him pulling out of you makes you wince, but then you two giggle. “i did it!” you say proudly, holding up your hand to give him a high five.
he laughs. “damn right you did.” he takes your high five, followed by a handhold.
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72
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asbealthgn · 1 year
Text
(i am not immune to peer pressure so here's a continuation. part one here)
It’s so rare that Steve meets anyone nice anymore.
It’s just hard to find people. Dating apps suck, and ever since Robin and Nancy got together, they hardly ever want to go to bars together. And what’s he supposed to do, just drink alone and hope he stumbles across someone? 
Well, that’s exactly what happened today, sans drinking. He was heading for the bus stop, a tiny bit lost but he had a map and was pretty sure he could figure it out. He realizes he’s a tiny bit directionally challenged, and he’s still relatively new in town, and Robin and Nancy just moved to a new place, so it all came together to mean that getting there would take some puzzling out. All the same, he was prepared to figure it out on his own right up until he saw the super hot guy sitting at the bus stop and figured a little help couldn’t hurt.
And that’s how Steve ended up with an unexpected date (sort of) to Robin and Nancy’s baby shower (not a real baby shower).
Robin answers the door and smiles, then does a double take when she sees Eddie. Whoops, Steve probably should have texted her that he was bringing someone. He’d gotten a little caught up in the moment.
“Hey, hope you don’t mind I brought a plus one,” Steve says, hugging her before walking inside. Eddie follows him.
“No, no, that’s fine,” Robin says, voice a little strange as they take their shoes off and she shuts the door. “We’re all in the living room.”
They follow her through the kitchen and into the living room where half a dozen calico kittens and several adults are on the floor.
“Oh my God, they’re adorable,” Eddie says, leaving Steve’s side to get down next to the kittens. Steve gets a huge smile watching him. Fuck, he’s super hot and he’s now holding a tiny kitten, cooing at it? Steve might just get on one knee right now. Or both knees. Honestly, either one works.
If he were paying more attention to literally anything other than Eddie, Steve would notice that nearly everyone else in the room is also staring at Eddie. The only exception to that is El, who’s sitting cross-legged on the floor with the mama cat in her lap, both watching the kittens with the same wide-eyed intensity.
There’s a tap on Steve’s shoulder, and he turns to look at Robin. “Can we talk for a sec?” she asks, voice still odd.
“Yeah,” he says and follows her back into the kitchen.
She crosses her arms and leans back against the counter. “So are you gonna tell me what Eddie Munson is doing in our living room?”
“Oh, have you already met him?” Steve asks.
Her eyes widen. “Are you being serious right now?”
“Uh. Yes?”
“Steve, that’s Eddie Munson,” she says, “From Corroded Coffin?”
“From what?” he asks, though as she says, it does sound a tiny bit familiar. 
“Corroded Coffin?” she says, “It’s that band the kids love. Along with like half of America if they’re not completely scandalized by them.”
“So what, you’re trying to tell me Eddie’s famous?” Steve asks. Robin nods. “Hold on, this isn’t like Paul all over again, is it?” Paul was a guy Steve briefly dated a few years ago, and Robin had somehow convinced Steve that he was an Olympic athlete. In his defense, she had mocked up some seriously convincing news articles.
But Robin is shaking her head. “No, I’m serious this time,” she says. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone. After a second she turns it around to show him the Google results for Eddie Munson. There are a lot of red carpets and pictures of him onstage. And damn, Eddie seriously is so hot.
“Alright, well, you definitely didn’t have time to photoshop these,” Steve mutters. Robin nods, patting him on the shoulder. How did he accidentally bring a famous guy over?
Just then, Eddie comes into the kitchen, a kitten in his hands. 
“Stevie, look at her,” he says, holding the kitten up.
Stevie? Robin mouths. Steve kicks her as he reaches out to scratch under the kitten’s chin. It mews at him.
“I asked Nancy—she’s terrifying, by the way,” Eddie adds to Robin, “And she said I can keep her.” He lifts the kitten to his face and it purrs as it rubs its cheek against Eddie’s. Steve is actually going to combust.
“Alright, well, I’m heading back in,” Robin says, voice back to that strained quality as she escapes the kitchen. Eddie doesn’t seem to notice, too busy whispering praise to the kitten.
Steve scratches under its chin again and it purrs at him. “What’re you gonna name her?” he asks.
“Don’t know yet,” Eddie says, “Isn’t she per—oh, hold on.” His phone is ringing, so he moves the kitten to one hand as he reaches into his pocket and pulls it out. “Hey Gar….Yeah, ‘cause you abandoned me….No, I’m in Japantown getting a kitten….No, that’s not a euphemism….Listen, I’m kinda busy, I’ll call you later, alright?…Yeah, see you, man.”
While he was talking, the kitten clawed its way up Eddie’s shirt and into his hair. “What’re you doing in there, sweet girl?” he asks, tucking his phone back into his pocket and reaching for the kitten. It’s gotten very tangled in his curls, though, and apparently really likes being there. 
“Lemme help you,” Steve says, stepping closer to Eddie and extricating the kitten. Eddie’s hair is very soft. Good to know. “Here you go,” he says, holding the kitten out for him.
“One sec,” Eddie says. He ties his hair up quickly (also hot, fuck) before taking the kitten back. He boops noses with it. “Such a mischievous little girl.” 
“Well, can you blame her?” Steve asks. He brushes a loose curl behind Eddie’s ear. “Your hair seems like a nice place to be.”
Eddie smiles at him, a dimple appearing on his cheek. “I’ll be honest, Stevie,” he says, voice getting a little lower as he moves closer, boxing Steve against the counter. “At first I just came along because you’re gorgeous, but I think I’ve fallen in love.” He holds up the kitten in one hand.
“You think I’m gorgeous?” Steve asks, feeling his face heat. 
“‘Course I do, big boy,” Eddie says, leaning closer and putting his free hand on the counter by Steve’s hip.
Maybe this is stupid and way too forward, but Eddie is so dreamy with his eyes and his dimple and his hair and the kitten in his hand, so Steve leans in and kisses him. It’s a little relieving when Eddie kisses him back, free hand lifting to his hair while Steve wraps his arms around his waist.
Steve doesn’t notice the front door opening or a new group of people that includes Dustin Henderson coming inside. He doesn’t notice them entering the kitchen and freezing as they take in the scene.
That is, not until Dustin shouts, “Holy shit, is that Eddie Munson?”
tagging a few people who asked for a continuation/asked to be tagged (sorry if i missed anyone!): @nburkhardt @stargyles @csinnamon-fox @manda-panda-monium @silly-jellyghoty @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @starquirk
edit to add that this ficlet is complete and the last part is here
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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 month
Text
crimson red part two
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words: 1.3k
warnings: 18+ only!!!, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, NON/DUBCON, R*PE, M*RDER, stalker!rafe, branding, scaring, p in v sex, unprotected sex, knife kink, descriptions of blood
part one / part two / part three
you can practically feel rafes eyes on you. all day every day, no matter where you go, you know he’s not far. you try to go on with your normal routine, chest bandaged up underneath your shirt as you cringe, tugging at the scars as you attempt to reach the top shelf at the grocery store.
“here, i got it for you.” a tall man reaches up for you, grabbing the box of cereal and placing it in your hand.
“thanks so much!” you sigh with relief. you certainly don’t want to stretch your scars and cause them to start bleeding again.
“no problem.” he smiles at you. “i’m liam, what’s your name?” “oh, uh, y/n.” you also smile but he must get the vibe that you’re not really interested, giving you a nod before continuing down the aisle. liams handsome, but you won’t drag anyone into your life, not when rafe is knocking at your door every night. he doesn’t need to break in anymore, you gladly open it for him.
you finish your grocery shopping, wishing you would have gotten a chance to go earlier as you shiver, the cold air hitting your skin as you step out, still pushing your cart now filled with bags.
the setting sun guides you towards your car, making you realize that theres no streetlights as you squint to load your car, filling the trunk when you hear someone clearing their throat. you turn, expecting rafe.
“oh, hi.” you realize through the growing darkness that it’s liam.
“hello again.” his voice is deep, but nothing like the easy purr if rafes. “can i help you load your groceries?” you look to your cart, only a couple bags left.
“i’m almost done, but thank you.” you nod, turning back to your car, but you don’t hear his footsteps moving away on the pavement, instead there’s a scuff of a step forward. you keep your attention on your trunk, praying that he will get the hint and walk away. you hear a strangled gasp that has your eyes widening, turning quickly to see liams body crumple to the ground.
“oh my god, rafe!” you scream. rafe moves quickly towards you, pressing his palm against your mouth as your eyes widen.
“i told you to stay away from men. the only reason i don’t slit your throat too is because i heard you telling him to leave.” rafe moves his hand slowly, your chest still heaving up and down but now under more control.
you look from his blue eyes to liam, his eyes now completely lifeless and glazed over, red spilling from the cut on his throat.
“now let me help you.” rafe loads the rest of your groceries while you stand frozen. you let him move you, carefully take your hand and guide you to your passenger seat. realization doesn’t set in until rafe drivers you home, taking all your groceries in for you while you’re sat stunned in the car.
“come on inside.” rafe coos softly, his voice in contrast to the sharp blade inside the leather sheath hanging from his belt.
“oh my god.” your words whisper out before you scream the next ones. “you’re a murderer! you killed that guy!”
rafes hand is back over your mouth as you begin to struggle, trying to get away. you knew rafe was capable of terrible things, but you never expected for his obsession with you to go this far.
“shut up.” rafe grunts, letting out a shout when you bite at his palm, sinking your teeth in and pulling back, trying to hurt him even a little bit as much as he hurt you.
you manage to squirm away for only a minute before rafe is dragging you inside. “you made a serious fucking mistake!” rafe yells, tossing you over your shoulder as you resign to your fate, slumping forward. “going to show you what happens when you are a fucking brat.”
he throws you onto your bed, your body bouncing as he tugs your shirt off, not caring about the tears streaming down your cheeks. he rips your shirt in two pieces like it’s paper, so effortlessly it has your eyes widening, a reminder of his physicality, his pure strength.
“r-rafe.” you plead out, but he ignores your whimper of his name, grabbing your wrist and using your own shirt to tie it to the headboard. he rips your sports bra off next, again tearing it, causing your skin to burn from the sudden movement of the fabric. your other wrist is tied up next, so tight it makes you cry out.
“rafe, please, i’m sorry.” you lean forward, trying to convince him to stop. “i was just scared.” “you should be scared of me. i could fucking kill you and you act like such a brat. you should have waited for me to help you in the grocery store.” it’s ridiculous. all liam did was help you get something off the shelf, and rafe fucking murdered him for it.
“you’re right.” you nod. “just be gentle, please.” you plead, your cunt bruised and red from last night when rafe had you, shoved your face into your own mattress to soak up your tears as he tore your pussy apart.
“ill do whatever i want.” rafe peals the bandage back from your breast, tapping the scar in a shape of his first initial. “should i remind you that you're mine?”
you just whimper. you have nothing left to say, no dignity still inside as rafe tugs your pants off before undressing himself, placing his sheathed knife on your bedside table like always. a reminder, now a reminder stained with an innocent man's blood.
“my pretty little pussy.” rafe coos, fingers swiping through your folds. “she's so pretty i love her so much.” he bends down to kiss your clit before baring his teeth and biting down, making you cry out, back arching as you strain against the wrist restraints.
“did that hurt or did you like it?” rafe questions, kissing your clit again like he didn't just gnaw on it. “or both?”
you know he expects an answer, the way he's looking up at you impatiently. “both.” you hate admitting how much you like the effect rafe has on your body, but with his face in your cunt you know the rush of wetness would give it away anyways.
“good girl.” he hums. rafe picks your hips up, so used to manipulating your body as he shoves his hips forward, sinking his cock inside of you in one smooth motion.
“fuck, still so tight.” rafe grunts out, immediately setting a fast pace, cock stretching you out without remorse. the pain just amplifies your pleasure as you moan.
rafe is thankful that you have no close by neighbors with how loud the both of your are, his thrusts hard and punishing, one hand moving to pinch and pull at your clit, deciding not to be gentle as part of your punishment.
“p-please untie me rafe.” you whimper out.
“what, so you can just bite and hurt me again?” he shakes his head. “i don't think so.”
rafe groans as your cunt clenches around him, your hands gripping onto your ruined shirt, fingers starting to go numb from lack of blood flow.
“maybe i should just leave you tied up. maybe get some handcuffs and chains that way no man will ever flirt with you again.” rafes eyes stay on the scar on your chest. “maybe i should finish carving my name on you.”
“n-no. im yours, rafe. i know that.” you do. you thoroughly belong to rafe. even if he forgot about you, let you go free, stopped watching your every movement, you'll never be truly free. he's utterly wrecked you for anyone else to the point where you crave him.
with every thrust of his cock and tug of his fingers, you feel yourself breaking more. 
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @folklorsweet @yourenogoodforme @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl
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shuahoonie · 1 year
Text
warm on a cold night | kim mingyu
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pairing: non-idol!mingyu (svt) x female!reader
notes: college au! fluff, pet names, the great wall of mingyu, fake dating for convenience? maybe questionable relationships (aka mingyu what are we), a bit of angst— nothing too serious, alcohol consumption, a clingy and touchy mingyu. loosely based on the song warm on a cold night by HONNE
word count: 3.6k (a bit of a long one, sorry!)
summary: there was no denying that mingyu looked like he was carved out from the gods, that's why he keeps getting asked out.
yet every poor person's attempt of asking him out is often met with rejection. the reason? you two are *supposedly* dating (on the dl), he would say. the truth? you two aren’t.
part of the to x, with love mini series
shuahoonie's masterlist | to x, with love masterlist
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"kim mingyu, can you please enlighten me why the girls that i just passed by from the engineering department literally gave me the nastiest side eye?" you raised a brow at mingyu who was crouched over at the student lounges by the engineering department. you set the coffee and cake at the nearby empty table.
upon hearing your voice, mingyu looked like a child on christmas morning as soon as he saw you.
“baby!” mingyu came running, tackling you with a huge hug, abandoning the plates he had been working on. “i missed you!” he said, almost excruciatingly loud, turning a few heads over your way.
“yah,” you smacked the back of his head, causing him to groan and let go of the hug almost immediately. “i told you to quit calling me that!”
“you don’t like being called honey nor sweetheart either,” mingyu mumbled, rubbing the back of his head.
“it’s because my parents call me that,” you replied, getting sidetracked. “but that’s not the point—“
“would you rather i call you kitten, instead?” he asked in a suggestive tone, wriggling his eyebrows.
“why you—“ you were ready to let out a string of curses, a hand also ready to smack the living daylights out of him, before mingyu grabbed you from behind and wrapped both his arms around you— one to press over your mouth and one to stop your hand from hitting him.
“kitten, let’s not get violent.” mingyu said, trying to calm you down.
“yn, are you being held hostage by your own boyfriend?” jihoon asked in amusement as he passed by you two.
you pulled away mingyu’s hand that was pressed against your lips, “yes, but he’s not my boyfriend.”
mingyu, who still stood there behind you, rested his chin on top of your head and continued to wrap his arms around you.
“not according to the people from the music department,” jihoon replied with a smirk. “and this,” he gestured to the position that you two are in “is not helping.”
“uji, what are you doing in the engineering department anyway?” mingyu asked, “are you here to see me because you miss me?” he teased.
“no, because why would i even do that," jihoon looked disgusted upon hearing mingyu's comment, making mingyu pout. "besides, unlike some people, i don’t have to run from one end of the campus to the other just to see someone,” jihoon replied, the comment more so directed at you.
“i did not run on my way here,” you rolled your eyes, feeling defensive all of a sudden. “and i’m here because this 6 ft tall baby won’t stop blowing upmy phone, saying he wanted coffee.”
“and yet you’re here,” jihoon said in a teasing tone, enough to make you charge at him— you could’ve though, if wasn’t for mingyu who’s still latched to you.
“and my baby’s here with iced americano,” he said, letting go of you and grabbing the coffee instead. “and cake?” his eyes almost sparkled upon seeing the familiar takeout box from his favourite dessert place aka cheollie and jeonghan’s cafe. “oh, you truly love me.” mingyu chuckled softly.
you snorted. “yeah, right.” it’s always complicated with you two. you never knew where things crossed and you assumed neither did mingyu.
“okay, it seems like i’m intruding,” jihoon mumbled “i need to go, i have to meet vernon by the library soon— have fun you two.” jihoon said with a smile. “oh, and do not forget, we’re all meeting at seungcheol’s café on saturday. the man gets sulky whenever we don’t go all out on his birthday,” he added before he left you two alone.
“wait, i’ll come with you, uji!” you said to jihoon before turning to mingyu who was already pouting. “i need to go, gyu. good luck on your plates!” you smiled at him and gently tapped his cheek.
“you’re not staying with me?” mingyu was getting sulky “but you just got here.” he whined.
“i only came here because you kept calling my phone, you’re lucky i didn’t block your number.” you said, half-joking— on the latter part, of course!
“you’d never do it anyway.” mingyu said with a smug smile.
“only because you’ll tell my mom and i will never hear the end of it.” you sighed. “i swear she loves you more than me.”
"it's because she has taste," mingyu stuck his tongue out at you, making you roll your eyes "unlike her daughter who will purposely leave me alone to fend for myself."
"you are so dramatic, i swear to god," you grumbled loud enough for mingyu to hear. being the menace that he is, he threw a balled-up straw wrapper at you. "okay, i'm going, bye." you said in one breath and ran to catch up with jihoon, not even bothering to look back.
"without even a kiss or anything?!" mingyu yelled obnoxiously, urging you to run faster.
jihoon caught glimpse of you and stopped so you can catch up, and catch your breath. "you okay?" jihoon asked in amusement.
you nodded. "yeah, let's go. don't want to keep nonie waiting," you said in between breaths. "mingyu better bring me food later because he pulled me from having a main character moment from the cafe." you huffed.
"are you sure you and mingyu are just friends?" jihoon asked with a raised brow.
"uji, just because you wound up dating your best friend, that doesn't mean the rest of us would have to do it too," you said teasingly. it wasn't a joke per se. "except for jeonghan, because you know, he hates being one-upped."
jihoon rolled his eyes, but it was evident he was turning red. "we won't tease you— if that's why you are so secretive about it." jihoon commented "although, i have to be honest, you two are more clingier than me and my partner."
"that's because you detest any form of physical affection," you pointed out.
"might i remind you that you also used to hate that too," jihoon proclaimed "until mingyu practically latched on to you like glue."
you ignored jihoon’s comment, mostly because he was right, but you’re not willing to admit that just yet. "it wasn't like he made me uncomfortable or anything— and i did say yes to the whole ‘if anyone asks, can i tell them that we’re dating’ thing, since it was bothering him" you rambled "he just said people wouldn't take his rejections seriously so he had to show people that he wasn't interested."
"so, what, is this a complicated way of projecting that you two are fake dating?"
"i guess so," you sighed. "i mean, i guess it's working because no one really bothered him anymore,”
"and you're okay with that?" jihoon asked.
"i mean, i get the occasional side eye from people, which i, too, return because i hate losing" you joked, "and if it keeps mingyu happy, then..."
"ya!" jihoon flicked you on the forehead, making you yelp, "we've all been friends for ages and i know your secret feelings for mingyu, so i know this is secretly killing you."
"wow," you were trying to act appalled, when jihoon was exactly right. "i do not have secret feelings for mingyu.”
“repeat it five more times, it might come true,” jihoon teased. “i see the way you look at him,” he points out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“i look at him the same way i look at you guys,” you replied as you and jihoon entered the library, spotting vernon slouching at one of the chairs— bored out of his mind.
“you look at us like we’re stupid,” jihoon rolled his eyes.
“exactly.” you beamed at him.
“yn,” vernon looked surprised upon seeing you with jihoon. “i thought you were with mingyu.”
“why would you think that?” you asked him with a raised brow.
“because he wouldn’t stop moaning about how much you kept ignoring his calls earlier,” vernon replied. “and i thought you finally gave in.”
“now, why on earth would you assume that i would give in.” you crossed your arms, slightly annoyed of the idea that is your current legacy— the girl who will always give in for kim mingyu.
“because it’s mingyu,” vernon smirked “you would’ve done anything for him.”
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seungcheol and jeonghan’s quaint café was already alive as soon as you got there. it was said to be an intimate get together but you didn’t expect the amount of people who gathered for seungcheol’s party.
“yn!” vernon waved at you as soon he saw you emit from the doors. “were you alone? did you drive?”
“i came here straight from work,” you explained “i was told that mingyu’s planning to get wasted so i brought my car, in case any of you needs a ride.”
vernon raised his brow. “any of us? or just mingyu?”
“yah!” you flicked his forehead in response, making vernon yelp. “you’ve been spending way too much time with uji.”
“but it’s true,” you heard vernon mumble to himself.
“i was also told that it was an intimate get together” you said as you scanned the place filled with a good mix of familiar and unfamiliar faces.
“yeah, but knowing cheol, he probably wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to celebrate his day with the people he knew,” vernon commented as you two made your way towards the crowd, aiming to find the table where the rest of your friends are hopefully staying.
"happy birthday, cheollie!" you beamed at seungcheol, who just finished checking up on soonyoung and seungkwan. you gave a big wave to soonie and kwannie, making a mental note to properly say hi later.
you handed him the perfectly wrapped present that you may or may not have spent ages on wrapping— you had to mentally put yourself on a pinterest lockdown. “it’s from me and gyu,” you smiled at him.
“thanks, yn,” seungcheol smiles. “you know, you didn’t have to get me anything though.” his smile falters and you did have a sense on where this is going. “you could’ve just greeted me at 12 am in the group chat, didn’t leave me on read.” cheol sulks.
you rolled your eyes at the most incredulous take you heard from your friend. “choi seungcheol, i swear to god— you are the only person i know that bullies people into greeting them happy birthday as soon as the clocks hit midnight.”
“it’s a special day!” seungcheol pouts.
“whatever,” you dismissed him jokingly, earning you a dramatic huff from cheol. “where’s joshua? i haven’t seen him in ages,” you asked, peering around the room.
“why are you looking for another man when your boyfriend’s here?” mingyu suddenly pops out of nowhere, handing you a drink. seungcheol went to make rounds again, checking up on his guests. meanwhile vernon joined soonyoung and seungkwan’s table— which was only a couple of steps away from you two.
“gyu, it’s literally just us here.” you rolled your eyes at him as you gladly accepted the cola. “i don’t think we need to keep acting here,”
“kitten, there’s people here that don’t know that.”
“exactly,” you pointed out. “there’s no reason for us to start acting like a couple if the people here don’t even care if we’re ‘seeing’ each other.”
“but i do,” mingyu mumbled— closer to a whisper. he feared that if he said it to your face— or if you heard it, you’d think differently of him.
but you did hear it. you weren’t sure if it was the mixed chatter that’s messing up your hearing, or if you were just hearing things that you wanted to hear. nonetheless, it had you flustered.
you cleared your throat. “i’ll be back, gyu. i wanna check the food platter,” you said quietly before leaving.
gyu gave a tight nod, which it didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the guys.
upon checking what cheol’s birthday spread, you felt a small tap on your shoulder. “pst!”
you were immediately filled with surprise and joy when you saw joshua standing behind you, smiling, and his arms spread out waiting for a hug.
“shua!” you almost shrieked, tackling him in a hug. “i missed you!”
joshua let out a small laugh. “i missed you too, ynnie.”
you quickly let go of the hug, remembering the text he sent you a few days ago and gave him a playful smack in the arm. “you know, you’re truly sick in the head for texting me that after you asked me for a favour.”
“i was just congratulating you for overcoming your pride and finally accepting the fact that you love mingyu,” joshua teased, nudging you playfully. “must you forget that i follow you on your private twitter?”
“literally shut the fuck up, shua,” you grumbled.
“wow,” joshua sighs, appalled “you kiss mingyu with that mouth?!”
“you annoying brat—“ you were about to smack him before joshua caught your hand, laughing at how flustered you were becoming.
across the room, mingyu was watching you and joshua. how playful you were around joshua. it’s not like he’s jealous or anything— because he’s not. or rather, he has no right to be.
seungkwan picked up on gyu’s slight change of behaviour and where his line of vision was projecting. “you know they’re just really close friends right?” seungkwan comments, trying to ease the conversation.
“hm?” mingyu pretended to not know what seungkwan was pertaining to.
of course, it didn’t work. it’s seungkwan we’re talking about here. he knows when things can get messy really fast and he knows when to stop it. the pointed look that seungkwan gave was also a telling sign that mingyu shouldn’t even bother to lie.
mingyu sighed before taking big gulps of his beer. “she’s allowed to like whomever,” mingyu finally says. “even if it’s my best friend, i’ll still support her.”
“oh, i cannot do this,” vernon muttered under his breath, leaving the table as soon as the words left mingyu’s mouth.
soonyoung was quietly listening to mingyu and seungkwan’s conversation. it was the quietest he has been all night, well, partly because he had already drank a bottle of soju. soonie was afraid that if he said something, it would incriminate you and your feelings for mingyu— and he’d rather not face your wrath.
“well, have you two talked about whatever happens if either of you wanted to date someone else?” seungkwan asked.
the question lingered around mingyu— it never crossed his mind. he had always assumed that you would always be there for him, which was extremely selfish considering you weren’t his to begin with.
mingyu’s silence was enough for seungkwan. he knew where mingyu’s feelings settled. quite, frankly, seungkwan knew where your feelings for mingyu too. but seungkwan knew better than to meddle, especially with unresolved feelings that involved two idiots.
mingyu watched you give joshua a small bag— a present, probably. joshua gave you a grateful smile and a big hug after, making you giggle at something he said. shua seemed happy around you and you were happy around him.
that hurt more than mingyu wanted to admit.
“yn,” joshua whispered as you were busy picking food. “how much are you willing to bet that mingyu’s jealous right now?” he asked upon catching a glimpse of mingyu, who was on his 3rd bottle of beer now and was watching them intently.
you snorted, not bothering to look at joshua. “at whom? is he eyeing on someone i didn’t know about?”
“why,” a twinkle formed in joshua’s eyes “are you jealous?”
“psh,” you didn’t even bother to look at him. joshua will read you right away. “why would i be? i’m not his girlfriend.”
“oh my god,” joshua laughed almost annoyingly that you’d rather take back the limited edition copy of the book that he asked you to get him— a favour for being a good friend, apparently. you knew damn well joshua was going to give that to someone else. “you are! oh, how cute.” he gushed.
“i am not,” you groaned, lying straight through your teeth.
“you should go back,” joshua laughs “as much as i have enjoyed seeing how you two really felt about each other, i don’t want to be the cause of whatever’s stopping you two from it.” with joshua’s ominous words and a small goodbye, he left.
“yn,” seungcheol suddenly crept behind you. “check up on, gyu. he’s drinking too much for someone who hasn’t eaten anything.”
“where did you even—“ your heart was racing, still startled at cheol.
“don’t ask questions and just go,” cheol said, pushing you towards mingyu.
you found mingyu absolutely buzzed beside seungkwan. mingyu rested his head on top of seungkwan’s shoulder, his eyes staring directly at you. seungkwan, on the other hand, was looking at you with pleading eyes— asking as if to save him from this misery.
“yah, kim mingyu,” you grabbed mingyu’s hand and attempted to pull him up from his chair “kwannie’s getting tired. leave him alone.”
“no, he’s not.” mingyu sulked. oh, he’s definitely drunk. “i don’t hear him complaining.”
“because seungkwannie’s too nice to say anything,” you replied, shooting seungkwan an apologetic smile. “get up, mingyu. let’s grab something for you to eat and maybe some water.”
“i don’t want to,” he moaned. mingyu straightened up his position and leaned his head back against the wall. “why are you here anyway? where’s joshua?” he asked, eyes closed.
seungkwan and soonyoung could sense tension between you and mingyu. the last thing they wanted was to witness what was about to unfold. “hyung,” seungkwan grabbed soonyoung’s arm. “let’s go grab something to drink.”
soonie, though nearly drunk, understood the situation and nodded.
as soon as the two left, you stood closer to mingyu, towering against him. “mingyu,” you patted his cheek softly, attempting to make him look at you. “c’mon.”
mingyu groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. it was ridiculous, you had no idea why he was acting like this. well, you had a hunch— joshua’s comment coming into mind— but it was ridiculous right? right?
mingyu eventually met your eyes— a bit red, probably from exhaustion. “where’s shua?” mingyu asked quietly.
you raised an eyebrow at him. “why? is there something you wanted to tell him?” you asked, sitting next to him.
mingyu turned his head against you, wondering why there’s a small smirk forming in your face.
“no,” mingyu huffed. “you looked like you were having tons of fun with him.”
“yeah, i was.” you replied casually, willing to play the game— willing to find out whether joshua’s hunch about mingyu being jealous was actually true. “joshua’s your friend, you know.”
“i know,” mingyu huffed, as if you were rubbing it to him. “so why are you here?” mingyu asked, sounding annoyed. almost.
“why? do you not want me here?”
“i do, but—“ mingyu ran a hand over his face out of frustration. come to think of it, he was slowly coming into his senses. wondering why he was acting like this. “you know what, you’re free to do whatever you want.”
“of course, i am.” you casually agreed.
“then why—“
you cut mingyu off and asked “gyu, why do you think i’m here?”
mingyu bit the inside of his cheeks before answering “to take care of me?”
“partly, yeah,” you laughed. “and it’s because i like spending time with you.”
mingyu’s sulky behaviour instantly dissipates, a large grin suddenly taking over his face. “you like spending time with me?” he asks, almost excitedly.
“there’s a lot of things i like about you, mingyu.” you answered, almost easily— not even knowing where this newfound confidence came from. “why do you think i keep doing things for you?”
“i thought you were just being overtly loyal to being my best friend,” he answered with a pout.
“gyu, i don’t think i could ever agree to do the things you asked me to if it were someone else.”
“you mean if joshua asked you to be his pretend girlfriend, you’d say no?” mingyu asked with a quirk brow.
“where is this jealousy from joshua coming from?!” you practically yelled, smacking his arm. “that’s your best friend, you brat.”
“yeah? so?” mingyu crossed his arms “he’s a nice guy— a gentleman, sweet. i wouldn’t be surprised if you liked him.”
“oh my god,” you groaned “kim mingyu, you are dense as fuck.”
“yah, why are you calling me stupid?” mingyu turns his body to fully face you.
“because i’ve been trying to tell you that i like you, stupid.” you said, irritated.
“you like me?” mingyu’s face lights up.
“yes, you weirdo.”
“if you like me then why are you calling me ‘weirdo’?!” mingyu pouts.
“because you’re weird! never had i seen someone react like this, even after they were told that someone likes them.”
“but you like meee,” mingyu practically sings. “i like you too, ynnie.” he said snuggling closer to you, resting his head on top of yours.
“oh, i know” you replied, unbothered by the look that mingyu gave you. “i knew the moment that shua hugged me and gave me his attention, i knew you were jealous.”
“you knew that i was jealous and you still didn’t do anything about it?”
“please,” you snorted “i was trying to prove the theory. i am, first and foremost, a research girly after all.”
“and what theory is that?” mingyu asked,
“that i was certain about my feelings about you,” you replied. “and that i just had to make sure you were too.”
“you did all that when i could’ve just kissed you?”mingyu baffles “you had me seeing red.”
“uh, not with beer-breath you’re not.” you said, crossing your arms. mingyu suddenly stands up, prompting you to ask “where are you going?”
“to ask cheol if he has any spare toiletries in his office,” mingyu answers in a hurry, making you laugh.
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hiya friends! sorry if this took a while! april has not been kind to a fourth-yr uni student, but at least, it's all over now! i can write (non-uni related works) as much as i want! 🤩
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steddielations · 1 year
Text
Steve doesn’t know if he should say something.
He knows, he obviously knows that Eddie’s been taking his clothes.
It’s like a routine at this point. They’ll be hanging around Steve’s pool or up on his roof getting high, Eddie will say he’s cold no matter what he’s wearing or how warm it is. And if Steve’s not wearing a jacket to give him, Eddie will go ruffle through Steve’s closet and at the end of the night, he always “forgets” to give it back before he leaves.
Steve’s not sure if Eddie’s just doing it to fuck with him or if it’s an actual reason. Like Eddie doesn’t have clothes, or his washer is broken and he can’t afford to fix it, or he doesn’t have money for the laundromat or something serious that Steve does not want to be insensitive about, but he’s seriously running out of clothes.
For fuck’s sake, he’s wearing his Christmas sweater from two years ago, he literally had nothing else in his closet.
He’s starting to think that’s the endgame here, that Eddie’s just waiting until Steve shows up bare ass naked so he can laugh in his face.
Finally, Steve decides to get some answers while they’re hanging out in Eddie’s room, wearing his too-small Christmas sweater that Eddie’s already teased him about.
“Eddie, is… is everything like… okay?”
Steve asks carefully, picking at threads on Eddie’s comforter.
Eddie’s fingers pause on his guitar strings, joint hanging out of his mouth as he gives Steve a curious look.
“You mean just in general or…? Because I’m far from what someone like yourself would consider “okay” but that’s normal for me.”
Steve looks around the room, noting the usual piles of Eddie’s clothes, recognizing a lot of his own. Doesn’t seem like Eddie’s in any shortage of things to wear, and his laundry always piles up. Nothing looks out of sorts, maybe he just hasn’t felt like doing it lately, and Steve doesn’t want to be insensitive if that’s the case either.
He minds his words, “I mean like, are things okay for you? Like around the house, your refrigerator’s working, your washing machine isn’t broken or anything?”
Eddie smirks, “What if they’re not? Is Handyman Harrington gonna put on his little toolbelt and fix it all up?” He always makes light when he senses something uneasy coming.
“Real funny. I’m serious, Eddie. Is there a reason you haven’t done laundry? If you’re not feeling up to it or something, I don’t mind helping.”
Eddie sobers a little then, putting his guitar down and dabbing out the joint in the ashtray on the bedside table, “Yes my washing machine works. Yes I can do my laundry, I’m just lazy as shit and letting it pile up. What’s this about, Steve?”
“Because you—” Steve runs his fingers through his hair, pulling it, flustered, “I’m literally wearing my Christmas sweater in goddamn October because you have all my clothes, dude.”
Something registers in Eddie’s gaze but he quickly deflects, laughing, “Oh is that why? I thought you just pulled out that little number ‘cause it's skin tight, you minx.”
“Is everything okay?” Steve doesn’t let him change the subject, offering gently, “If you need to borrow some money or use my washer or something then—”
“No, no that’s not it,” Eddie shakes his head, smile gone, seeming kind of nervous now, “I don’t need anything like that, Stevie.”
Steve sighs, at a loss, “So why do you keep taking my clothes, Eddie?”
Eddie lets out a small laugh, almost sad, a little bitter, “You’re really gonna make me say it, Harrington?”
“Say what? You can tell me,” Steve scoots closer to him on the bed. He tries to meet Eddie’s gaze, to make sure he knows he can tell Steve. Fuck, they saved the world together, they almost died together, he knows he can tell Steve anything.
So it sort of hurts when Eddie won’t look at him, or answer him, but Steve tries to be understanding.
“Okay,” he sighs, resigned, “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me, but I’m just gonna need some of them back if that’s alright—”
“God, you really are something,” Eddie gives that same bitter laugh. It hurts, mostly because Steve knows there’s something deeper here, something’s hurting Eddie and he won’t tell Steve. “Of course, it’s alright. They’re your clothes, it’s not even… Fuck, it’s not even about the clothes.”
“So you were just fucking with me then?”
Eddie shakes his head, hands tugging his own hair, the way he does when he’s anxious, “No, it wasn’t a prank Steve.”
“You’re trying out a different style?”
“Definitely not.”
“Dustin dared you, or something?”
“No, it’s not like that—”
“So then why did you do it? I don’t—”
“Shit, Steve, I’m— I took them because they smell like you, alright?”
Steve’s mouth opens and closes several times.
“I… You… What?”
Eddie won’t look him in the eyes, sighing sharply down at the bed, “Don’t make me say it again.”
Steve blinks, asking slowly, “You… like the way that I smell?”
Eddie finally looks up at him, a heavy cloud behind his dark eyes as he admits, “Yes I do and not in a friend sort of way. In a way that I’m literally stealing all your clothes like a fucking weirdo just to feel like I’m hugging you at night, or something— I dunno, Steve. It helps with the nightmares.”
Steve’s heart is sort of doing flips in his chest.
That’s another reason why he waited so long to say anything. He doesn’t mind Eddie taking some of his clothes. He likes the idea of Eddie wearing everything that’s his, and not just as a friend helping out another friend. In a deeper way, in a way that he’s been suppressing because he didn’t want to ruin things with Eddie.
“That could still be a friend thing,” Steve says carefully, hoping that Eddie disagrees.
“It’s not a friend thing,” Eddie shakes his head, starting to move away from the bed and Steve’s stomach drops, “I don’t have ‘friend’ feelings for you, Steve. So I get it if you wanna walk out that door and never talk to me again. I’ll give all your clothes back, I shouldn’t have—”
Steve’s hand shoots out to Eddie’s knee, stopping him, rushing to say, “I don’t like you as a friend either.”
Eddie quickly looks up, expression careful, confused, “You— huh?”
“Fuck, that came out wrong, I just…” Steve sighs, bolsters himself up and rubs Eddie’s knee softly but with intent as he asks, “Eddie, can I hug you in a not-friend way?”
Eddie’s eyes flick up and down between Steve’s hand and his face about ten different times, gaze utterly wild, “Are you saying you have feelings for—”
“Just get over here and find out.”
Eddie’s grin mirrors Steve’s as he crawls across the bed. He’s tentative still, careful, so Steve just goes in, wrapping his arms around Eddie and pulling him against his chest. Eddie goes willingly, sliding his palms across Steve’s stupid Christmas sweater, his nose at Steve’s collar, breathing in deep.
Steve chuckles as Eddie burrows in, mumbling something about how good he smells.
Steve loves the way Eddie smells too, nuzzling into his hair, breathing in a hint of shampoo, smoke and something earthy, something Eddie. Steve loves the way he feels too, wants him impossibly closer.
“So why did you need so many of my clothes?” He asks softly after a while.
Eddie doesn’t lift his head when he replies, “Works best when the Steve smell is still strong. Had to get more when I sniffed it all up.”
Steve rolls his eyes, something like fondness tugging at his lips.
“You said it helps with nightmares?”
Eddie nods against him, admitting quietly, “On nights when my uncle works, it gets kinda creepy being alone here. Just having something that smells like you makes it feel like— I dunno, like you’re here with me. It’s weird.”
“It’s not. I wish I would’ve thought of that when my nightmares were bad,” instead of just not sleeping, or calling Robin all hours of the night. “Your uncle works tonight, right?”
“Yeah, he… yeah.”
Steve feels like he should be more nervous than he is, but Eddie hasn’t let up since the second Steve pulled him in, so he feels like he’s on the right track here.
“What if I stayed over? I have a feeling you’ll like hugging my sweater even more when I’m inside it.”
That makes Eddie burrow further into his neck, pressing a smile there.
“Already trying to get into my bed, Harrington? Should wait until at least the third hug for that,” playfully, Steve gives his side a little pinch, both of them chuckling, “Yeah, I’d like it if you stayed.”
Satisfied with that answer, Steve takes a risk, carefully wraps his hand around the back of Eddie’s legs, tugging a little to pull Eddie into his lap. Thankfully, Eddie wants it too. He sits atop Steve’s thighs and just melts into him, both of them sighing against each other.
Steve rubs broad circles across Eddie’s back, soothing the fabric of his yellow sweater that seems to be Eddie’s favorite to steal. He smiles into Eddie’s hair, feeling so warm and buzzing pleasantly all over.
It could’ve been hours gone by, Steve basking in Eddie’s body heat, in the weight of him, condensation forming against his neck where Eddie’s breathing him in. He pulls back a little, studies the blissed out look on Eddie’s face.
He blinks slowly at Steve, “Hey.”
Steve shakes his head, chuckling softly, “Hey, dummy.”
“Dummy?” Eddie parrots, grinning.
“Yeah. You’d rather steal my entire wardrobe than just give me a hug?” Steve squeezes him a little, “What if you wanted to kiss me, hm? Would you steal my chapstick?”
He lets his eyes linger on Eddie’s lips, hoping he gets the hint, takes the subtle offer.
Eddie’s finger toys with his collar, brushing the bone there as he murmurs back, “If you’d just kiss me I wouldn’t have to steal your chapstick to know how you taste.”
Steve tips his head back with a soft laugh before cupping Eddie’s face, “God, c’mere, you idiot,” then leans in and presses their smiling lips together.
It’s sweet at first, just gently pecking each other. Then the kisses last longer, grow deeper, tasting each other. Steve’s mouth falls open in a sigh, letting Eddie lick inside, sucking lightly on his lip.
Kissing Eddie is everything, a deep warmth simmering in Steve’s bones that he can’t get enough of. He wants it all over him, wants to clothe himself in it, burrow inside Eddie and never come out.
He leans back against the pillows, taking Eddie with him in his lap. The movement makes them rub together in a way that has Steve humming against Eddie’s lips, gripping his hips as a new kind of pleasure lights inside him.
Eddie pulls back then, laughing breathlessly.
“Okay,” he nuzzles their noses together, grinning as he mumbles, “We gotta relax or I’m gonna have to steal another pair of your underwear too.”
Steve playfully rolls his eyes as he moves his hands elsewhere, wrapping them around Eddie’s back.
Then, a beat later, it clicks and his brows furrow.
“Wait, what do you mean another pair, Munson?”
Eddie laughs and quickly dives back in for another kiss, silencing any more questions from Steve.
Ao3 Link
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cherry-leclerc · 3 months
Text
method acting ☆ cl16
genre: series - humor, strangers to friends/roommates
word count: 5.1k
cherry here!... first req that turns into a mini series and I'M SO EXCITED. the idea was perfect and i really hope you all enjoy this little story based off one of the best films :) common changes and adjustments are made for the plot but HAPPY READING
*can you guess what film it's based off of? where the title originates from?
ch. one ch. two ch. three ch. four ch. five ch. six
Chapter 1
Life, as you fear, is falling apart as you're confronted with a serious case of writer's block that puts your career on the line. As a solution, you're roommate helps you plan a solo trip to the Amalfi Coast for a much needed break but it doesn't take long for you to meet a certain Monegasque who lays passed out on the beach.
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Parents know best - at least that’s what we’re all told growing up. How about bioengineering? Cardiothoracic surgeon? Architecture? With braces and a messy fishtail, you shake your head profusely as you clutch onto your notebook. 
"No. Journalism."
“Why didn’t I listen to my mom?” Groaning, you rub your tired hands all over your face as your roommate stares back, bewildered by your sudden frustration. 
“You’re telling me doing open heart surgery would have been better than writing an article?”
Aiming a pencil at her, you gasp as you cover your mouth and she squints her brown eyes at you. “I am so sorry!” Running up, you hug her desperately. “I’m just stressed, I’m stressed, I’m stressed!” You pull away. “I’m stressed.”
Amelia chuckles as she sits down on a stool, pointing for you to do the same. “You, my serial killer friend, need a break.” You frown at her choice of words. If I take a break then I’m going to get fired. She smiles brightly. “You won’t though.”
You can distinctively pinpoint the moment a ripped up journal turned into a laptop. It was senior year of highschool and you finally had the courage to confront your parents and tell them that you, if fact, were not joking about your bachelors in journalism.
"Darling, how will you make a living out of something like that?"
For a moment, her words had you second guessing your choices. Could she be onto something? Know something perhaps you don’t? The older, the wiser, no? 
But you had already applied - it was done. So you tipped your head firmly, clicked your tongue against your straight teeth, and smiled.
"I’ll find a way."
You moan softly as you hit your forehead with the palm of your hand. “What I would give to just be an elementary school teacher…Grading papers, cute kids-”
“Shit everywhere, tantrums, headaches, signs of early aging - oh God - receding hairline!” Amelia pales as she scrunches her nose in disgust. “Nightmare.” The blonde reaches for your hands, intertwining her fingers into yours. “But this is your dream, it’s what you're good at. Don’t let a little writer's block scare you away.”
-
“Goodness gracious! Are you alright?” Lucy’s southern accent surprises you as you fix your crutches. The older lady had been working at the famous magazine company since you can remember, always a cheerful receptionist. Loud, too. 
You wince. “Oh, you know…clumsy me?” 
"Eleanor is never going to let me take a vacation. I would have to die first."
Amelia’s eyes twinkle deviously. 
"Then that’s what we’ll do."
"Die?"
“It’s okay, I could open it myself,” you yelp as Lucy swings the door to your boss’ office. Let me, she insists as she pushes you in. Tumbling, you hurry to fix your posture as you nervously giggle, beady eyes staring back at your rude interruption. “I had no idea you were in the middle of a meeting.”
Eleanor and a crowded room all look you up and down before she sighs. “You’re already here, what is it that you need?” You shudder at her cold tone.
“I- uh- I mean, if it’s possible, I was t-thinking I could maybe get a m-m-month off?”
Oh no, someone whispers as they catch the editor-in-cheifs face change. Your stomach drops. Or not, I’m fine! The gray haired lady stands up as she tauntingly makes her way over, circling you like a hungry lion. “And why do you need a month off?”
“Doctor’s orders?”
She hums, analyzing your casted leg and left arm. “I’m sure you can type with your right hand. Off you go.” You blink. Once she takes a seat, she narrows her eyes again. “I said you can go.”
“Of course. Have a nice day.”
"She’s going to see right through me," you repeat for the millionth time as Amelia's boyfriend, Roman, works on the fake casts. 
She groans. "With that attitude she will! Get it together. You have to stand your ground and don't dare walk out of that office without a month off."
Terrified of your best friend, you nod. "Thank you again for this future doc, hope you don’t get fired."
He pales. "The things we do for the people we love, am I right?" Amelia blushes.
Letting out a shaky breath, you brace yourself before tripping and falling straight onto your back. The whole room gasps in shock as Eleanor stares back with a bored expression. Shit, are you okay? Peeking with one eye, you catch Grayson - Eleanor’s son - staring back with a helpful hand. 
He had always been nice to you, bringing you coffee whenever he was around. Sometimes he even helped you brainstorm new ideas. Your heart rate accelerates as you struggle to get up. Mother, she can’t be working in this condition. She huffs as she waves her hand in dismissal, Dior bracelets clicking against one another. 
A month. That’s it.
“Thank you,” you whisper as he helps you into your overly priced Uber. He tilts his head, slowly tracing your features.
“You're lying, aren’t you?” He signals at your poorly done cast. 
“I c-can explain-”
He laughs. “Your secret's safe with me.” Reaching over, he buckles you. Your breath hitches. “Enjoy your time off. I’ll be waiting for you.”
-
“I’ll be waiting for you!” You swoon as you retell your embarrassing story to the cozy couple who cuddle on the couch like proud parents. 
Amelia claps. “He’s the one! I feel it!” Roman scoffs. Settle down, daydreamers. Your friend slaps his hand. “Debbie Downer.” You giggle as she wiggles her eyebrows. “So…what are you going to do now that you're free?”
You tap your chin. “Um, probably write.”
Her smile falls. “This is the whole reason we even did any of this! For you to not think and just enjoy yourself!” 
Her boyfriend nods, floppy hair bouncing up and down. “Yeah, I didn’t go through all that,” he signals to the casts that lay by the doorway, “Just for you to lay around doing what you always do.” He stands up to grab an apple. “Travel, I’m serious.”
-
Amalfi Coast. It called you poor in seven different languages as you tug your suitcase into your AirBnB. Amelia and Roman had sat through 8 hours of planning everything, detail and safety included. 
"Oh, click that one!" Roman tsks his tongue as his fingers slide against the keypad. The blonde beams. "That’s perfect!"
"Perfectly out of my range," you sigh as you slap it shut. "I’ll die homeless if I stay there." The couple share a silent look before returning their attention.
"Well, we were thinking… " the brunette starts before your friend cuts him off, jumping up and down on his lap. He groans. 
"Sorry, honey, but anyways, we’ll pay for it!" Your jaw drops as you wave your finger, shutting down the idea.
"There’s no way I’m going to let you guys do that-"
"Okay, maybe not all, but at least a good chunk of it," she butts in as Roman stays with a soft smile. "Isn’t that right? " He nods.
"Take it as an early birthday present," he adds. Your chest tightens at their kind gesture.
"That’s still a lot of money." You grow light headed.
"Then no birthday presents for two years," Amelia squeaks as she grabs your hands over the coffee table. "Just don’t say no, you need this." You debate inside your head for a few minutes before letting out a shaky breath.
"No birthday presents for the rest of my life and we have ourselves a deal."
Which is how you landed in one the most beautiful homes you think you will ever see in your entire life. You can’t even pretend to try and fit in because everything seems to make your eyes pop out of their sockets. 
After a bit of unpacking, your sweet tooth gets the best out of you as you grab your purse and head out the door. You can’t help but take pictures at almost everything you see, but everyone was doing the same so there couldn’t be too much judgment. Paying for your lemon sorbet, you hum constantly as you stare into the ocean. The breeze was warm, but not obnoxiously so. The rocks underneath you tickle slightly as you get comfortable. 
Then you hear it, light snores. Startled, you turn over as you catch a man sleeping, arm laying over his stomach. You think about maybe moving location but when he releases soft whimpers, you find yourself growing sympathetic. What if he was in trouble? You couldn’t let a person die if they were three feet away from you. Hesitantly, you crawl your way over as you tap his leg.
“Ciao,” you say, but you can only catch his nose scrunching up since he had a hat laying over him, covering his mysterious features. Biting down on your lip, you dig your finger harder. “Ciaooo.” Sitting up abruptly, he groans, shoulder bumping against your cone. You yelp before pouting at your treat melting all over the surface. 
“Oh merda, colpa mia,” he apologizes as soon as he notices your gloomy mood. “Posso comprartene un altro se vuoi, ti prometto che non sono un serial killer-” Like a cat being bathed, you jump up high as you create a large distance. 
“Serial killer?” you squeal. He catches onto your accent swiftly as he waved his hands in defense. 
“I’m not! I’m not!” You eyed him suspiciously, chest heaving heavily. “I was offering to buy you another cone and saying that I’m not a sick serial killer, that’s all…” He signals to your desert. “I feel bad.”
Releasing a soft breath of relief, you smile politely. “Don’t worry about it. I was just trying to see if you were okay, you were kind of…” You theatrically twitch as he chuckles. Your cheeks burn up at the sound. 
“I’m fine, thank you.” A beat. “Sort of.” Softly narrowed eyes stare back at him. Do you need anything? He winces at the bright sun. “I feel a bit sick, if I’m being honest.” He zigzags a bit before falling straight into the rocks, painful grunts following. You shriek as you run over, flipping him onto his back.
“Holy fuck, holy fuck.” Other than a cut up lip, he’s fine, but he groans like there’s no tomorrow. Rightfully so, you start panicking as you dab his bottom lip with the hem of your shirt, then you remove his hat.
“Don’t!” But you’re already tossing it over your shoulder as you analyze his bruised up cheek. 
Green eyes look into yours as you stop breathing. His eyes are sensitive, like some sort of past soulmate, if you believe in that type of bullshit. His hair is rusty brown, long strands hitting up to his lashes. His nose is slightly pointy and it’s worse that they’ve always been your favorite kind. Lip swollen from his clumsiness, but a natural pink. Freckles and moles sprinkle along his face. 
Scooting away, he raises finger over his lips, cryptically telling you to hush. Confused, you lay your palm against his cheekbone. “You need to see a doctor.” Now he becomes visibly bewildered as he cocks his head to the side. You don’t know who I am? Flushed, you extend your hand, introducing yourself. “And you are?”
The brunette lets out an unhinged laugh as his large hand swallows yours. “Charles, I- I m-my name is Charles.” Dimples pop up from how wide he’s smiling, and that almost leaves you gasping for air. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Then he grabs his head in discomfort. “Seriously though, you need to see a doctor.” No, he starts. You roll your eyes. “Fine, a medico or whatever you want to call it.” Helping him up, he leans against you as you wheeze.
“I’m perfectly fine, I just need to sleep.” He pants against your head, catching a whiff of your shampoo scent. “Pretty,” he mumbles. You blush harder. “Do you think you can take me to the nearest hotel?”
“I don’t know if that's such a good idea,” you mutter. “Don’t take it the wrong way, but I don’t know you at all.” He shyly nods before removing his arm away from your figure, and all of a sudden it’s cold. 
“I get it, don’t worry.” The green eyed boy waves goodbye before stumbling away. 
You have always been a bit of a people pleaser, one of your many flaws. Amelia and Roman had always called you out on it, stopping you from making stupid decisions.
But Amelia and Roman weren't here.
“Wait.” Charles turns around, loopy eyes squinting at your blurry physique. Making your way over, you take his arm and place it over you. “You can stay with me, I’m just up that hill.”
-
“You can’t be helping out boujee vagrants,” your friends scold you over the phone as you grimace. “Why would you do that?”
You nibble on your painted nail. “I felt bad…” 
Roman snickers before coming into frame. “What if he’s some kind of maniac?” Like a child, you shake your head.
“He said he wasn’t!”
The couple groan at your naiveness. “Boy, let’s just trust everyone we meet then!” The blonde pushes her face directly onto the screen. “You need to slap him awake and kick him out.” 
But there was something so peaceful and homey about the way Charles was sleeping, covered like a butterfly in a cocoon. His chest rises up and down as he occasionally reaches for the other pillow, bringing towards his chest. With one last glaze, you leave the bedroom.
“I can’t do that to him. He was in really bad shape, you should have seen him.”
God can’t even help her, Roman grunts before strolling away. Amelia sighs. “Listen, I know you’re just being a good person, but you don’t even know this guy. We just want you to be safe.” I know, you mumble, chewing on your hoodie’s string. She tips her head. “Let him stay the night if you want, but tomorrow, he leaves. I’m not playing around.”
“Tomorrow,” you reassure her before hanging up. 
-
He had slept for a day and a half and you were starting to get worried but after contemplating throwing his body over the balcony, he was stretching like a newborn baby. “That was the best nap I’ve had in years.” You chuckle awkwardly at the stranger.
“That was most definitely not a nap.” 
He smiles. “Did you sleep well?”
“So good,” you respond quickly and he would have settled with that if it weren’t for your dark under eyes.
“Shit, you haven’t slept?” 
“I did, I promise!” Green eyes reflect intently as you crumble. “Okay, I didn’t, but it was only for two days.” Two? You cringe. “There was just one bed and I didn’t know whether you were-” You trail off. 
“Wasn’t what?”
Maroon paints your cheekbones. “A psycho killer…” You can tell he’s offended by the way he rubs the tip of his nose, as if he’s trying to ease the tension.
“I’m not the Monster of Florence or anything like that,” he mutters as you begin to apologize, watching as he sits far enough away just in case you feel the need to bolt out the door. “But I understand why you don’t trust me. We don’t know each other…So, why don’t we work on that?”
It takes about an hour for him to tell you what he considers the basics about his entire persona, and you rant about your upbringing. He frowns.
“That must have sucked. Not having parents who believe in you.” You flinch at his truthful words.
“I think they’re starting to get it,” you pathetically try but even he can see right through your weak excuse. Focusing your attention onto your twiddling thumbs, you exhale. “How did your parents react when you told them you wanted to be a mechanic?”
The Monegasque seems stunned for a nanosecond before munching on a blueberry and crossing his arms. “Their only priority was for me to be happy and doing what I love.” You smile sadly.
“Are you happy? Do you love it?”
“It’s my favorite thing in the world.” 
You feel a giggle bubbling inside your throat with the way he speaks about his job, but then you’d be doing the exact same thing that others do to you. He coughs. “So tell me, you really faked an injury?”
Your stomach hurts from how much Charles was making you laugh and before either of you knew it, the sun had set. “Did we really just waste an entire day?” 
“I don’t see it as wasting my day. I really like talking to you.”
Forcing yourself to look away, you untuck your legs from underneath your butt. “Wanna grab something to eat?”
There’s a comfortable silence that lingers between you both as you walk the busy streets of Amalfi. “Do you really need to wear a beanie? It’s burning hot.” Looking around, he shrugs and continues walking. 
You settled on sharing a plate of pasta since it was almost bedtime and neither of you weren't that hungry. “Good, right?” he questions the moment you shut your eyes about the delicious taste. You hum. 
“Free orgasm right here.”
Choking on his food, he quickly takes a sip of water as you smack his back. “I think I’m good now,” he squeaks as you smile timidly. You can feel the way he judges you as you devour your fair share, but you can’t help it. Connecting your gaze to his, he looks away as he drops his fork against the fancy plate. “Thank you for letting me stay the night.”
“Oh. Yeah, no problem.”
The brunette chews on his bottom lip. “It was nice getting to know you, really.” You blink back dazed as he continues. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your trip.”
“You’re leaving?” Even your inquiry shocks you as he smiles back warmly. I don’t want to interrupt. You’re looking for peace, remember? Trying to think of a quick enough excuse, you say, “Having someone to keep me company doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. I-I mean if you’re not busy.”
Under the table, you were crossing your fingers as he took in your offer. The brunette nods. “I guess it could be fun.”
-
“You did the right thing,” Amelia congratulates you the next time you call her. “Rather be safe than sorry.” 
Just then, Charles walks in with a bag of peaches, grinning proudly as he makes his way over. “Agreed. Listen Amelia, I have to go. Adventure awaits! Tell Roman that I miss him! Talk to you later!” Hanging up, you greet your roommate. Awkwardly, he passes you the juicy fruit. 
“Friend back home?” You hum, biting down. Taking a bite of his own, he bows his head. “You miss your boyfriend?” You stop chewing.
“Boyfriend? Oh, you mean Roman?” He clenches his jaw, then relaxes. You cackle loudly. “He’s my best friend's boyfriend,” you clarify. “We’re close - all of us.” 
“Oh.” Tossing the seed away, he rises up to his full height. “Wanna see something cool?”
-
“You got insurance?” you joke as he covers your eyes, leading you mysteriously. You’re not going to get hurt or die if that’s what you’re worried about. You giggle. Okay, we’re here. Removing his hands, you take a minute to adjust your eyesight. “What the fu-”
“Cool, right?”
You scoff. “Cool? This is beautiful.” Running over to the cherry red Ferrari, you reach out before turning back to the 26 year old. He nods. Delicately, you brush your hand against the leather seats. “Where did you get this?” 
“I know a guy.”
“Mafia leader?” 
“Ha-ha,” he mocks as he unlocks it, going in to open the door. “Hop in.”
Humid wind sends your hair flying as you let out loud shrieks from the speed. You don’t know how he found such an isolated spot, but you don’t ask questions with how much you enjoy the thrill. “Again, again!” you cheer as he does professional donuts. The car comes to a halt as you fling forward and he stays as straight as can be. 
“How about I teach you?”
“Okay, put the car in gear.” Following instructions, you listen attentively. “Turn the wheel and floor it, but make sure to be alert and keep your foot on the brake just in case.” Swinging harshly, you let out a scream. “It’s okay, try again.”
After a while, you still couldn’t get it down and your frustration was starting to show. But he was patient, spilling out different versions of advice. Twist sharply. Biting on your bottom lip, you huff before trying again. His words circle your mind as you drive the Ferrari straight ahead before turning the wheel and pressing down on the gas. Your adrenaline picks up when you realize what you had just done.
“That was perfect!” Raising his hand out for a high five, you squeal as you smack it hard. He hisses, but you’re on a roll. 
“Hold on, Charles, you're in for a ride.”
Though his car is moving fast, the Monegasque feels as if he’s stuck in slow motion as he admires the way you control the Ferrari. He'd be lying if he said he didn’t find any of this attractive. It took you a while, sure, but your determination got to him as he kept his eyes trained on you, peeking over at you where you sat mumbling the steps over and over. Arms maneuvering the wheel flawlessly, knotted hair fanning your face. Stepping on the break, he barely has a moment to react before he slams right onto the dashboard. You wince.
“I should have warned you, crap! But you were doing so good! Your head would not move an inch.” Admiration paints your voice. Embarrassed, he rubs his temple.
“I got a bit distracted, but I’m fine.”
“Okay,” you mumble skeptically. Honking the prancing horse, you turn to him with a Cheshire Cat grin. “How about a drink, professor? My treat.”
-
“What’s the occasion?” the bartender asks as he fills two glasses of whiskey. I can do donuts now, you brag. His brows raise up in shock. “That’s impressive. It takes a good person to teach you.”
“It does, but lucky for me, I got it.” Discreetly you point over at Charles who sits with yet another baseball hat. “He’s pretty great.” The man's face drops as he leans against the table, getting closer to you.
“I’d say so! That’s Charles Leclerc.” Flabbergasted as to how he knows his name, you take the two drinks and raise them up as a silent thank you. “Free drinks on me if you need anymore, amore!”
On the way back to the small table, you ponder on the weird encounter. Had they met before? Perhaps Charles had fixed his car or something along the lines. Grazie, the Monegasque smiles as he takes a sip of the cool drink. You do the same, wide eyes shining at the taste. “Holy crap, this is good.” Swallowing the rest of the golden liquid, you signal at the bartender for the rest of the bottle. Nodding, he brings it over as Charles lowers his head, green eyes trained on his lap.
“It’s somehow sweet,” you narrate as you serve yourself another. “More?” He shakes his head, wavy hair following his movement. It’s the Italian charm. You hum against your cup. “Must be. Tastes like paradise.”
It’s safe to say that you were obsessed the minute you started growing tipsy. Squinting at the squawking girl who was pouring her heart out on the stage, microphone in hand, you snap your fingers loudly, jumping up. That. I want to do that! Your travel buddy chuckles. “You do?” 
“Of course I do. Plus, my voice is all warmed up.” Massaging your throat, you march over at the little old lady who plays the tarnished piano. “Potrei cantare dopo?” She nods kindly before wrapping up the song. I have another one in me, the girl yelps as her friends pull her off stage. 
“Oh great, a drunk removed for another drunk,” someone shouts out when you stumble on stage. 
“Hey. Blame the delicious drinks!” Flipping through the book, you narrow your eyes. “This one,” you cheer excitedly as you whisper into her ear. She beams. No one ever asks for that one! Practicing against the keys, she nods as you twirl your way back on stage. 
All eyes are on you as you play with the hem of your mini dress. Normally, you’d be a nervous wreck, and maybe the liquor helped, but you weren’t afraid of making a fool out of yourself. 
“You got a fast car, I want a ticket to anywhere. Maybe we make a deal, maybe together we can get somewhere.” Soft keys echo through the small bar - for sure a guitar would have been better, but something about the familiar instrument makes Charles feel cozy as he listens to your voice. It isn’t perfect - you were drunk after all - but it was enough to make everyone listen closely like you were some divine object. 
Swaying, with you smiling sheepishly as you move your eyes through the crowd of strangers, and you’re glad the green eyed boy isn’t one of them. Is it fast enough so we can fly away? The brunette  grins at you as you spin in your dress, ponytail fluttering like grass in the gentle breeze. 
“So I remember we were driving, driving in your car. Speed so fast, I felt like I was drunk. City lights lay out before us, and your arm felt nice wrapped ‘round my shoulder.”
There is some sort of unexplainable shift inside of you as you feel yourself sober up with his intense stare. His brows are drawn softly, listening to your sweet voice, as if you would disintegrate and never be seen or heard of again. A click - you just clicked.
“And I had a feeling that I belonged. I had a feeling I could be someone.”
-
Kicking the door wide open, Charles carries you in as he settles you on the bed. You flop around like a fish out their tank for good measure, then pout, bare feet pressing up against his clothed abs. He halts. “I need to change…take off all my makeup...” All of it, you mouth, droopy eyes struggling to stay open. 
“I can get you what you need.” Last time he dug through a girl's suitcase, on a mission to find all her essentials, he had a girlfriend. Pushing away his thoughts, he jogs back over to your limp body. “Okay, here you-” 
Curled up like a rolly polly, you breath gently as you sleep. The 26 year old isn’t too surprised, but rather confused. Does he just leave you now? Pacing the room, he nibbled down on his nails as he weighed his options. He could let you sleep peacefully and possibly get a beating in the morning for leaving you to rot with all the nastiness or he could get it done quick - not look twice - and maybe still get a beating.
“I’ll be fast,” he mutters to himself as he grabs your makeup wipes. He tries to be as ginger about it, a cool towel erasing your light makeup. As soon as you scrunch your face up like a baby rabbit, he stops and rushes away. Good enough.
Now comes the complicated part. Slip the dress off, change her into her jammies. Easy peasy. But the more he thinks about it, the more he’s unsure. One night with your outside clothes won’t kill you. 
“Take it off, Charles, please,” you grumble as you tug on your dress. His Adam's Apple bobs up and down with panic as he nods to himself. Green eyes flicker the room before they land on his t-shirt. Oversized - would cover you whole - fast. 
As if he’s being chased down by the police, he runs over and in a quick motion, slides your dress off before tugging his shirt over your head, dropping your passed out body onto the bed and throwing the duvets over you. Grazie, you murmur from underneath as he sighs.
“Don’t mention it.”
-
“Fucking hell,” you groan, clearly feeling the awful hangover. After promising to never drink again, you rub your eyes as you yawn, focus becoming drawn to the black shirt. Your stomach drops. No, no, no. Hurrying to look for your phone, you quickly unlock it before freezing.
Who is Charlz Leclerk? You can’t even recall when you must've searched this up, but Google definitely understood your investigation.
"Tell me, Nico," you pout as you take a sip of your whiskey as you wait for Charles to come out of the bathroom. "How do you know my friend's name?"
He beams excitedly. “Amore! He’s…” Blinking harshly, you try your best to listen and read his lips as he makes funny hand gestures. For a second, you swore he was swerving an invisible car. Waving his hand, he laughs. "Look him up."
Monegasque racing driver; Formula One; Currently racing for Scuderia Ferrari. 
“What?” you whisper as you throw your phone away, eyeing it like the plague. No. Charles was a mechanic - a mechanic, for god sakes. 
“Oh good, you’re awake.” He tosses you a paper bag. “It’s a sandwich. Eat.”
How can he even look at you and act like everything is okay? Did he do anything wrong? No, not really, but why would he keep this from you? You’re surprised to find yourself feeling hurt by his secretive actions as he stares back innocently. 
“Is it not good?” he questions when you chomp down sadly. It is, you reassure with a mouthful. “Hey, I was thinking we could go for a swim. The weather is nice out.”
“Mhmm,” you respond meekly. “Is it okay if I meet you there? I-I was thinking I could rinse my body first.” 
The brunette nods. “I can wait for you.”
“No!” You blush at your eager tone. “We’ll just meet up.” Okay? Grabbing his things and yours, he strolls out the door, but not before gifting you a small wink. Call me if you get lost. “Asshole!” you cry out as he chuckles, slamming the door behind him.
In a matter of seconds, you’re already dialing work. “Lucy! Is Eleanor there?” Sweetheart, how are you? How’s the leg? The arm? Do you need me to- “I’m fine. Can you connect me to Eleanor, it’s urgent.” The older lady giggles as she switches you over. 
“This better be good.”
Clearing your throat, you fiddle with the hem of his shirt. “I have an exclusive.” 
Eleanor’s rich and elegant voice scoffs. “What about your arm?”
“Like you said,” you hum. “I still got my right one."
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luveline · 4 months
Note
hi jade i’m going through a breakup right now and my ex was really toxic so i was wondering if you could write something with Steve, where reader is dating him after and thinks that everytime he does something nice for her she has to repay him with sex. like even after a date or when he buys her something. that’s literally how my ex made me feel
if not it’s totally cool and thank you💕
hi my love, I'm really sorry that that was happening to you, it isn't okay! you're much more than your intimacy with someone and you deserve to be given good things without expectations. I hope this is what you wanted to read <3
tw past implied coerced sex /sexual assault
“Up you go.” 
You shriek, clawing at the hands on your hips as Steve lifts you up a step. “Don't!” you laugh, failing to get out of his grips. 
“M'just helping you, babe, alright? Don't be so ungrateful.” 
He's joking, but the air feels like it's been knocked our of you. Steve continues to heave you up the steps to the house, sandwiching you between his front and the door as he unlocks it. 
“Come on, beautiful,” he says, practically dragging you inside, “what happened? Your legs stopped working.” 
It goes without saying that Steve is really nice. Eddie told you he's always like this when he's in love, but you're reluctant to call it love just yet. Dating is difficult for you sometimes —you overthink when you should be kissing, and flinch sometimes when he's kind. But you're having a really, really nice time with Steve and you want to keep trying to be with him. 
He knows you've gone somewhere else, his hand coming up around your chest to rest on yout sternum. “Hey, you okay?” 
“I'm fine.” 
“Yeah?” He walks you to the living room. “It was a good day, right?” he asks into your cheek, propping a soft kiss there. “God, you make me so happy.” 
Your face and neck flush with heat. Steve gives you a squeeze of a hug and encourages you to sit on the couch, where he immediately kneels at your feet. What he's saying is lovely, but when he starts to untie your shoe laces, you realise it had been a prompt. To be grateful, to show him it was a good day. He slides your shoes off with a grin, and your hands go to your button. You unzip your jeans, and Steve's smile stutters. 
“Do you want to?” you ask, paused. 
“Want to what?” 
“Take them off for me?” 
“Are they hurting you?” 
You realise different things at the same time. Steve your intentions, and you his lack thereof. “Shit, I'm sorry,” you say, as he says, “Oh, oh, um?” 
“I thought you wanted–” 
“You're perfect, and I want to if you want to, but I wasn't trying to come on to you,” he says, holding your ankle. “I'm sorry, I'm embarrassing you. Don't be embarrassed, please, I'm such an idiot–” He puts his face against your knees.
You pull your shirt down over pants to hide their open state. “You… we had such a nice day. Don't you want…” You cross your arms over your stomach. “I wanted to. I mean, you should get something back.” 
“I should get what back? Why would you think that?” he asks. Steve gets quiet when things are serious. He has a mixture of shock and hurt in his eyes looking up at you, but his hands stay gentle as they climb your legs.
You can't admit it. The weight of it stays on your tongue. 
Steve thinks about it, and maybe he sees it in your face, but eventually he says, “With him?” 
You look away. 
Steve climbs onto the couch beside you with a quiet huff. “When I said we had a good day, that's all I meant. That's…” He takes one of your hands, pulling it toward him, his gaze insistent on your face until you meet his eyes. “I really, really like you. Like–” He puts your hand on his chest and holds it there. “You don't have to do anything for it.” His lips pout gently. “Am I saying the wrong thing?” 
“No.” 
He leans in to kiss your cheek. “Good,” he says, and kisses it again. 
You smile, tilting your head to your shoulder, tickled at his breath as it fans out by your ear. 
“Baby,” he murmurs, “are you okay?” 
You nod, worried about how you might sound if you speak. 
“You never have to do that.” 
“I didn't mean to make it seem like you thought that I did,” you mumble. 
“I know. It's confusing, right? Being with someone new after a long time with someone else. But I want to be with you, and I'm sorry that you– that he made you feel that way, that he could treat you like that. I'm sorry.” 
“It's okay, Steve. I'm sorry too.” 
“Well don't be.” He works his arms around you in a hug, a careful hand behind your neck. “I don't want you to be sorry. You didn't do a thing wrong.” 
He sounds angry for a split second, and you know undeniably that he isn't angry with you. You hug him back with much more gusto, so tight he actually groans. He doesn't make you stop, though. Just hugs you closer in response.  
“You want me to get you some sweatpants or something?” he asks. 
You nod into his neck, slinking down further into his embrace. Neither of you make any efforts to actually pull away. 
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k-hotchoisan · 6 months
Note
hii it’s me again with another request (sorry)
Could you write smtg based off the song agora hills by doja cat? whatever member u prefer is fine 💕💕
anywayssss i love you smmm and u are an amazing person!! 💕💕🤭🧎‍♀️
omg that is such a cute song (if you squint hard enough past the public sex HAHAHAH)
Please never apologise for coming back for a request, you know I’ll always welcome you with open arms 🥰
Always thank you for being so sweet vic (if it’s okay to call you that~) and for giving me inspiration + pushing me write out of my boundaries. I genuinely appreciate it.
AND I LOVE YOU TOO 🗣️🩷😭
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Where you and Seonghwa have a fight before his Grand Prix finals, but he still wins, and loses his fucking mind when he sees you still cheering for him despite that.
Genre/Warnings: racer au, smut, semi public sex, you fuck Seonghwa in his racer gear, IF YOU SQUINT HARD ENOUGH THERES LIKE ANGST (it isn’t heavy don’t worry), creampies, mild dacryphilla, unprotected sex, sweaty sex
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You storm past your partner into the hotel room, trying to let the anger dissipate. Seonghwa is trying to get to you, explaining what you saw. You know that it couldn’t be helped, but feel the thorns prickling your heart when you couldn’t even approach him when you caught one of his overly zealous and nepotistic fans with her hands over him during the after party. Nothing much could done because;
a. He couldn’t do anything about it because the relationship between the both of you had to be kept a secret, his management did not like the thought of entertaining Seonghwa in a relationship when his career is at his peak;
b. The Grand Prix finale was tomorrow. A lot of stakes were in place, and Seonghwa knew better than to fuck it up, especially when he’s worked so hard to get where he is now. He’s so close.
He’s also so fucking close to just wanting to let the world know how possessive he is over you.
“You know it’s not like that right?” and he goes on and on. You know that it’s part of his job—to network, get more sponsors, even if it meant letting other women get a little too close to him. You understand, you do, but oh god, it gets so fucking exhausting. You just wanted time for yourself to clear your head and process the whole thing, and potentially stabbing that nepo baby at least sixty times in your head.
Your arms are crossed. Arguing with him is the last thing you want to do right now, especially when the both of you barely escaped getting caught sneaking into his hotel room. All that for a fight to erupt between the both of you after a long and tense day on the track. You glare at him with a pout.
“I’m going home.”
Seonghwa whips his head so fucking fast, his eyes piercing right into you. He looks absolutely dumbfounded.
“Are you serious?”
You nod. “I’m sorry that I overreacted, but now, I’m not risking us getting caught when tomorrow’s the finals.”
Seonghwa wants to fucking pounce and cage you in. Before he even attempts to deflect your words, you cut him off-
“-and especially when you’re not the one dating someone who needs to keep a relationship a secret.” You sigh. “Please get some rest, Hwa.”
You pull the hotel door open, and leave promptly. Seonghwa stands there, his brows furrowed as frustration bleeds into him. He wants to so badly chase after you, but he knows you wouldn’t let him, not when there could be a chance to risk getting caught by anyone from his team.
As the cab pulls away further from the hotel, your phone is spammed by Seonghwa, and he’s explaining himself. You purse your lips, reading over his texts, but you only decide to reply a curt reiteration of what you told him earlier at his hotel room, and a “love you”, before unlocking your door to finally wash up.
A ping of guilt courses through you—you know you shouldn’t misunderstand or be jealous, but if anything, it was but how it made you feel, and it wasn’t pretty. You didn’t mean to show a perturbed expression when his eyes glanced at you after he barely managed to shake his little fan girl off him, but it was just automatic. And if anything, Seonghwa is just as possessive as you are, if not worse, especially when he sent death glares to your direction when another male had approached you, and periodically touched you up on your arms, which kind of caused the argument to even start in the first place.
Your eyes flutter close, exhausted, as sleep drags you in deeper, the last thing in your mind being Seonghwa.
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The morning sun leaks through the windows of Seonghwa’s room. He’s already up, albeit half awake, getting ready for another whole day of racing. His mind was set on going all out for the finals, but something still remains at the back of his mind, and he doesn’t want to push it away. He thinks to himself, he wants to do it for you.
You only send Seonghwa a short text of encouragement, and he doesn’t reply. Then again, he is wrapped up with interviews over interviews, training and the finale would only start when dusk sets. You don a body con dress, paired with one of Seonghwa’s racer jackets you stole, might as well surprise him a little bit.
On the cab to the event, Seonghwa’s gorgeous face is plastered all over the Grand Prix news, as one of the rising stars. He looks absolutely stunning, no doubt, and it gets your heart racing too because you cannot believe he’s yours.
You take a seat amongst the noisy crowd around you. The atmosphere was getting really riled up, especially when the racers all appear on the big screen as they walk back stage to their cars. Your eyes are glued to the screen as Seonghwa appears in his racing gear, and he winks at the camera, a slew of fangirl screams burst around you, and you cover your mouth to suppress a giggle. All the hard feelings the night before faded off, and you heart felt full yet anxious for Seonghwa.
It takes awhile for the warm up and safety check to be cleared, but before you knew it, the checkered flags are raised and lights turned green, cheers roar across the tracks as the loud screeches of the cars overpower them.
Throughout the laps, Seonghwa falls in between 3rd and 4th place, you bite your lip, praying that he’s able to catch up. As the laps close in to its final rounds, Seonghwa slowly climbs up the position to first, and he maintains, amazingly. The night continues to burn with anticipation as the final lap commences, with Seonghwa neck to neck with another racer, switching between first and second.
The final corner becomes the make or break—as Seonghwa drifts, effectively overtaking just slightly before fully taking the spot for first.
And he speeds into the finishing line, winning championship.
You jump from your seat, your fingers clasped from the tension as the announcer is proclaiming Seonghwa’s win, and the screen flashes his winning race in slow motion. Your heart is pounding in your ears as the screams are blocked out. You are so proud that nothing leaves your lips as you fight the tears from falling as you clap. The screen flickers to the car cam, and you see Seonghwa pumping his fist in victory as he rides through another victory lap.
The barricade has fans screaming Seonghwa’s name as he leaves the car and pulls his helmet off. He looks so fucking amazing even when he’s sweaty, and you can’t help but feel your heart skip a beat. You decide not to squeeze with the fans near the barricade, opting to stand further away.
Well, now where does this relationship go? He’ll probably be even further from you now.
A huge group of reporters swarm him, and he looks overwhelmed, that is until his eyes scan the crowd and lands on you, just when you’re ready to turn to leave.
Seonghwa’s heart skips a beat, his eyes are only tunnelling you as he pushes past the crowd, jumping past the barricade to where you are. You have a small smile on your face because you know he deserves all of this.
A tight grip on your hand halts you in your tracks, shocking you, as you turn around with wide and confused eyes. He pulls his goggles off. Before you could even process it, Seonghwa has his jacket that you’re wearing in his fist as his hands travel up cup your jaw—and he pulls you in for a deep kiss.
Your eyes shut as the kiss scatters fireworks beneath your eyelids, with Seonghwa’s lips right pressing against yours. Your mind is fuzzy, as your ears blocks out the loud screams of his fans. He pulls back after what feels like an eternity, before bowing politely at the group of fans and reporters in front of him as he leads you away.
From the circuit track to his hotel room, he never once let go of your hand, probably only gripping it tighter the closer he got to his room. He doesn’t say a damn thing either, probably because he still has the adrenaline pumping in his veins. Nonetheless, you still can’t tell what he’s thinking, and you’re wondering if he’s still upset.
At least not until the moment the door closes behind you.
Because he turns his heels right at you as devours your lips, not letting go at all, even as peels off his jacket, then yours.
He finally pulls back, giving you a breather. His eyes look absolutely wild as he tugs his jacket off you, exposing the way your dress hugs your curves, and his breathing becomes heavier.
“Fuckin hell. You don’t know how much it drives me insane when you’re wearing my jacket over something fuckin slutty like this. Fuck,” he groans, kicking his shoes off. You stare at him breathlessly as you remove your shoes as well, but your gaze never leaving how Seonghwa looks so fucking good with a compression shirt on—the way it hugs his biceps, the way it pulls taut against his chest and abdomen, the gorgeous bounce of his fucking tits every time he shifts his arms. He doesn’t remove his top before pulling you right back into his arms, his hands snaking up to grab your braless tits, which makes him groan again.
“Fuck, you’re not even wearing a bra. Are you fucking kidding me?” His erection presses hard against your thigh, and you’re working through your brain to find and answer amidst being trapped by pleasure. “And where did you think you were running to, looking like that?”
“N-nowhere! I thought you’d be caught up with the report-“ he cuts you off with another hungry kiss. God, he’s so desperate that you can’t help feel the heat pool between your legs. It doesn’t help that he had pulled your dress down past your chest, and his hands are all over your tits, sending sparks down your your spine, right to your pussy. Seonghwa pulls away once more, licking the string of spit that connected the both of you.
Seonghwa hums. “Mmm. Shouldn’t have asked. I’d still fuck you dumb anyway.” Your grip on his arm tightens. His fingers snake under your dress, tugging on your panties as he pulls the pair down, and pockets the pair of panties. The wet patch of slick doesn’t go unnoticed by him. His gaze locks onto yours as he makes sure you watch him cover his fingers with spit before his fingers head south. His fingers meet your slick that covered your cunt and scoffs.
“You’re already so fucking wet already”. He doesn’t give you a chance to answer as his fingers begin rubbing your clit. You lean forward and sigh as you use his shoulder to lean your head on. He lets you for a moment, adoring the way you’re beginning to squirm underneath him. Then he’s grabbing your waist and then dumping you right on the couch, pushing your legs open for him. Your cunt glistens with slick right for him, and Seonghwa is more than ready to dive in, giving a lick before fully immersing his tongue right into your sex, flicking his tongue against your clit, his hands squeezing your thighs. Your fingers are tangled in his hair and your head is thrown back as you tug his slicked back hair. If you weren’t seeing stars, you’d be seeing the fucking heavens.
Seonghwa hits a pace where you’re beginning to see white spots beneath your eyelids and the knot tugs hard in your stomach. Your thighs contract immediately, but Seonghwa keeps them apart, because he knows that’s the sweet spot. He knows it makes you tingle and it gets him so fucking excited. His tongue works even quicker on your clit and your orgasm builds so fucking quick and your whines climb up in octave, music to Seonghwa’s ears.
“There, there. Oh fuck. I’m cumming. Oh my fucking god”, leaving your lips like a mantra, alongside more whines of his name as your orgasm tingles through your body in waves. His tongue presses against your clit and he sucks on your clit, causing you to jolt, tears already streaking from the overstimulation. Seonghwa’s moaning in your wet cunt, making sure he devours every part of your orgasm as his ego inflates. A broken cry leaves your lips as you release his locks, your hands slumping against the couch. Seonghwa presses a wet kiss against your cunt with a smile. He wipes his lips with the back of his hand as he towers over you, his erection staining his pants already. Oh god, you love the way your arousal is all over his plump lips nonetheless. He was made for eating you out. He leans in for another ravenous kiss—and he swears he can never get enough of it. Before you realise it, your dress is pulled back up past your tits.
His fingers gently intertwine with yours as he pulls you up, and leads you to-
“The balcony?” You question, your heart hammering in your chest. Seonghwa cracks a smile as he leans in.
“Yeah. I wanna show the world my girl. I’ll fuck you so good that I’ll make sure the world knows.”
“But-“
“It’ll be fine. I’m serious. We’re so high up and we’re clothed, well kind of ”, he comforts. You bite your lip, because fuck, it was definitely exhilarating to be fucked on the balcony. You wanted the world to know that he’s yours too and the thought of it only heats you up even more.
He leads you the beach chair at the side, where he makes you sit and hang your legs on either side of the arm rests, and he’s about to remove his compression top but your hands stop his before you realise it. He looks at you, concern flashes over his face for brief second.
“Fuck me with your racer gear on.”, you blurt out, curling your fingers against the taut fabric. Seonghwa’s expression immediately switches over to one of a smirk. “What have you been fantasising about, darling?” He pokes, looming over you with a cocky smile.
You can’t escape, the only thing that does is a small whimper. Seonghwa doesn’t push for an answer, because he’s busy yanking his pants down past his thighs, and his cock springs out, hitting his lower abdomen. He sighs as he gives his fat cock a couple of pumps while looking at you with your legs spread wide open for him, your pussy just salivating at the thought of him pounding into you into the next week.
He lines himself to your entrance and doesn’t warn you before he enters, and a squeal leaves your lips, then a soft cry as he pushes more inches into you—every inch going thicker and thicker as he goes down to the base, until he’s snug in your cunt.
“That’s my good girl. Warm and wet, just how I like it”, he whispers into your ears, as he strokes your thighs gently. More sobs leave you, your fingers pressing onto Seonghwa’s arms.
Just when you thought you couldn’t fit any more of Seonghwa, the sudden thought of him right now, fucking you in his uniform somehow swallowed more of his cock, earning you the most gorgeous moan from Seonghwa as his eyes roll back and his eyebrows scrunched.
“Baby-fuck!-just what are you thinking about? Squeezing me like this? Oh god”, his knuckles are whitening from his grip on the arm rest. He pulls out before starting a pace to fuck you with, and soon enough it’s only the sounds of skin slapping, both of your moans and the feeling of Seonghwa’s cock just pounding right into the perfect angle of your cunt that exists in this damn universe. You wouldn’t ask for more.
Your brain was becoming pulp, only soft sobs every time Seonghwa’s balls deep into you. You could only focus on how his biceps tensed against the fabric as his tits fucking bounced every time his slams his cock into you—which you definitely see it too—the way his pants hang just at his lower thighs, and his cock is just disappearing into your pussy, drawing out squelching sounds that were borderline obscene. Drops of sweat splatter onto your dress as he leans in to rest his forehead onto yours.
“So good. So fucking good to be inside you like this”, he curses, trying to not the feeling of his orgasm overpower him. As you were gradually losing yourself to the pleasure, he suddenly pulls back completely, and instructs you to face the night scenery with your ass out. He crumpled your dress to your waist, and his cock enters you again, causing you to draw a sharp breath. He doesn’t let you adjust—he just starts fucking you raw like that, leaving your mouth agape and eyes blown out from the pleasure.
He’s able to reach even deeper part of your pussy now, and he makes sure you fucking cry for him. “H-Hwa!”, you try to speak in between sobs. “Oh god, oh god. I can’t. It’s so deep.” Your hands barely have the strength to hold onto the rails as he is railing you from behind.
“That’s my pussy. Milk me dry baby”, Seonghwa grunts, his fucking becoming more erratic, admiring the way your ass bounces off his cock so naturally. “I’m cumming all the way in baby. Be a good girl and take it, yeah?”
And a drawn out moan fills your ears as his cum floods your abused hole, and you cry out as your second orgasm hits you, clenching his cock even more. A loud slap reverberates into the night as his hand lands on your ass, causing you to flinch and squeal.
“That’s it, baby. Oh, you’re such a good girl”, he hums, holding your hips as far as his cock would let him drive into you, letting cum dribble down your inner thighs. He pulls out slowly, admiring the way your cunt convulses, small loads of his cum and yours leak out of you. You release your grip from the railings and fall right into his arms, as he plants a loving kiss on your temple before whispering,
“I promise you’re the only one for me, baby.”
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