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glassrowboat · 23 days

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Daydream in a Nightmare

Authors note: I read a soulmate au where with dream sharing. Everytime you fall asleep you and your SM would meet in a world that would reflect your consciousness and who you were. So down below are the boys and what I think the places their dreams would depict.

Mondstadt

Diluc: The cathedral. His mom, back when she was alive, used to play during service and afterwards Diluc ran over greeting her with the biggest smile, asking her to play him one more song. She never failed to. Maybe that's why there's always a gentle melody playing whenever you see him as he rests his fingers over the same white tiles, simply trying to remember how to play.

Kaeya: The Dawn Winery. Or at least parts of it. Behind closed doors there's the scent of grass, of dirt, and the faintest smell of ash. He says it's simply the vineyard that in the real world would be right outside, but he knows well as he pulls your hand from the doorknob that it's ruins of a fallen nation haunting him right on the other side.

Albedo: Glass walls. A maze of mirrors and reflections. If you ever have stopped to bother to count between Albedo’s musings as he shares with you the secrets of the world, you'd notice that for some reason he always has more reflections in the walls around you than of your own figure. Like there's more of him than there is of you.

Venti: Old Mondstadt. Back before the revolution, back when there were people in the streets wishing their God weren't so unjust, but in his dreams that wall of spiraling wind is never there. A warped perception of a life he wished to have lived as he sits in your lap not as Venti the bard, but a wind sprite trying to bury into your clothes for warmth. Just don't call him pipsqueek or he'll try and bite your fingers. Playfully. You think.

Liyue

Zhongli: A place that no longer exists, one torn away by this world during the archon war. It's unlike him not to comment on a place, a trinket, an item, as you pick something up and fiddle with it, but this place he never goes into full detail on. However, he will tell you all about the artisanship of the table you two are sharing tea over.

Baizhu: His home back in Chenyu Vale, back before the illness hit his village, back before his parents passed away. Just a modest home that shows signs of being truly well lived in and loved. Mindlessly while you two talk he'll be cleaning the place, just the way he always does at the pharmacy. Though it does help give him something to fill the silence. It turns out he's a lot more used to Changsheng chiming in with comments than he thought. He just hopes you two get along when the time to meet in person finally comes about.

Ga ming: A festival. There's water kicking up at everyone's feet, up to everyones ankles as people with their face covered in all manner of masks walk you both by. Ga ming would pull you along from booth to booth, trying his best to win prizes despite the fact you both know they'll be gone by the time you wake.

Xiao: A Chinese pavilion in the sky. You walk among the clouds as you follow the path of the street, looking over the accents that seem somehow both rich in color and dull, muddied all at the same time. Something you've noticed from his dreams compared to yours, his always have a lingering black fog creeping in at the corner of your eyes. It makes you feel like someone else is in this world with you, like there's eyes waiting to do more than just watch.

Inazuma

Kazooha: A meadow. The wind passes you both by, stirring up pages of books you two sit reading in silence. You can't help but wonder if these are all books he's read before, especially the ones that wax poetry or something else. His thoughts, perhaps? Maybe Kazuha's very own writings? But that matters little as his head is resting on your shoulder as you try to catch words between the fluttering sheets of paper.

Itto: A kabuki play. It always ends up in you two hiding away in the back room where the performers would get ready before getting back out on stage for the next act. You would see the brightest of colors, richest of fabrics, and practiced movements so fine tuned that you can't understand why Itto is so focused on taking the makeup on the vanity in the back simply so he can paint your face with red marks just like his. To each their own you suppose, and who are you to complain when it means drawing hearts on his arm when Itto isn't paying attention?

Gorou: A tea house. It's a small place, simple, but certainly not lacking charm as Gorou pours you a cup. At first the fact you could actually taste the rich herbs on your tongue in this dreamscape threw you off, but now it's just another part of this odd reality. But saying that, the first time you spat out the drink he offered as soon as the bitter taste hit you. Apparently he never expected you to not already be used to green tea. The poor fella was apologizing for the rest of the night, ears laid flat on his head and tail tucked between his legs. It's okay though, you made it even by trying to give him dog treats. It was you having to beg for forgiveness then.

Thoma: It was different this time. No glowing blue flowers and a forest that you two would stroll through mindlessly while chatting for hours. No, this time Thoma was sitting on a wooden platform below a giant stone statue. Intriguing, yes, but mattered little compared to the rope burns around his wrist. He tried to tell you not to worry about it. That it was an accident. But that mattered little as your lips pressed to the red, irritated skin and he gave you a strained smile. You knew better than to ask about it more from there.

Ayato: It's ever changing. It's like he is constantly thinking of something whenever He falls asleep and it reflects in his dreams. Once it was a Japanese styled room the next it was some room in Fontaine's architecture. But it's always a bedroom. A place of relaxation as Ayato buries his head in your lap like it was a pillow. He'll whine about being overworked until you're tempted to pull on his hair just to make the man shut up for once, but last time you did that it led to the bed being used for a lot more than just rest. For now just pat his head and let him vent, the man needs it.

Sumeru

Kaveh: A sketch brought to life from his mothers blueprints. One he saw his mother sketching back when Kaveh was a boy and she would let him sit on her lap, let him comment on the drawings. She would always find some way to incorporate his addictions into the sketch. Nowadays he knows the building that was actually constructed in the end to be simpler, duller than the one his mother wanted, but in his dreams with you it stands tall and proud.

Al Haitham: An attic. It's dusty and it clearly had a hole in the roof that was covered over by some wooden planks and nails. A patch work job that needs to be fixed but if you ever take the time to bother with it while Al Haitham sits in an old rocking chair covered by a quilt reading the night away it will only be there the next dream cycle. It pisses you off. He pisses you off. All nonchalance and an apathetic look even as you plop yourself in his lap and take that book away. And what pisses you off even more? How he dares to call you needy as he holds you close. It's best to ignore the fact he started reading over your shoulder.

Tighnari: Pardis Dhyai. He'll sit on the walkway watching you kick the water of the ponds around, paying no mind to when you splash at him. Not anymore at least. He's learned quickly if he makes a snarky comment you'll give one back and it'll go on and on until somehow it ends in him getting dragged into the pond with you. Both dripping algae filled water as he wondered what gods made this numbskull his mate.

Cyno: Lambad's Tavern. Everytime he would come back from treks in the desert he would go there, get a drink, and play a round of cards with whoever was willing. It was a pattern. Work, work, rest, and more work. But now he didn't have to constantly be on work mode as he sat with you in the old booth shuffling cards as he tried to explain to you how TCG works. So far everytime you lose you've thrown those elemental dice and him, and with a smile he lets them hit him in the head despite being fully able to dodge them. His soulmate is such a sore loser.

Wanderer: Shakkei Pavilion. He hates it. Hates that this is the place his unconscious has chosen to sink onto so stubbornly. His wooden fingers would slide over the paintings depicting Scaramouche’s past that has now been severed from him in everyone's eyes but Nahida and the Traveler. If you knew, would you still hold his hand? Would you still trace the details of his joints and comment that you find his pretty face such a stark contrast to his sharp words? He's afraid to find out, the idea that you might be his fourth betrayal always lingering in the back of his mind.

Fontaine

Neuvillette: Under the water where the currents would carry stray bits of seaweed and fish swimming past. The first time you shared a dream with him here he had to calm you down as instinctively you held your breath, taking your hands in his and assuring you if he can talk like this, you can suck in air just as well. It took some time getting used to, but now he watches as you grab starfish off the ocean floor and bring them over to him like a prize to be presented. This is what humans must be like Neuvillette tells himself as you braid them into his hair.

Worcestershire sauce: A home. A nice one at that. Big, had decent furnishings, pictures of kids hung up on the wall. If you listened closely enough you could even hear children playing outside from the cracked open windows that showed the brightest sky outside. Wriothesly would walk behind you as you would watch the grass blowing in the wind, not saying a word as he rested his chin on top of your head. He never thought he'd be back here again. The very place made him feel sick to his stomach, but with you? It was bearable. Even as you tried to grab his handcuffs from him.

Snezhnaya

Childe: His childhood home. Back before the renovations he bought for the place with his money as a harbinger, back before the redecorating of rooms to fit more children, and back to what the house was like when he was just a boy yet to fall into the abyss. Back when everything was simpler. He would pick up toys that have gone missing, never to be seen again and stare in wonder how it all is exactly how he remembers it. It makes it so much easier to be Ajax with you, rather than Tartaglia.

Dottore: The hospital he was working in when trying to help Eleazar patients. For the life of him does he hate it, being back in the desert always having to tip his shoes out of sand that never seems to fully clear off. It doesn't help you try and pour sand down his shirt, but in a way he supposes it's better you two stay out here under that blistering sun than you going inside to be met with the smell of death. No, you don't need to know about that side of him just yet.

Pantalone: His office. It always makes it hard to tell at first if he's awake, not when the same scene greets him either way. You always joke about him being married to his work and you're the mistress in this relationship. At this point he counts on the comment as soon as his eyes flutter open and he's greeted with the sight of you sitting on the desk he's been using as a pillow. Still, he can never help the genuine smile at seeing you once again.

Captain: A flower field. The snowdrops peek out from under the fluffy blanket of white powder, crunching under every step he takes. Even in his dreams the cold of Snezhnaya is ever present, ever biting. It only makes sense you are shivering behind him even as he lets you steal his cloak that is more of a blanket on you than anything. This field, he knows it well, knows that what waters these flowers is more blood than anything else, but that matters little as he wraps his arms around you. Maybe he can find a way to dream you a proper jacket.

Pierro: A grand hall. It reminds you of the way ballrooms are described in romance stories as the couple depicted would dance the night away. Columns so high you have to tilt your head back just to see where they meet the ceiling covered in paintings you've never seen before. That is until Pierro steps into your view. He always offered his hand to you before you could ask, and as your fingers interlocked he would tell you about them. Always ready to answer your questions. It meant someone was curious about a part of his long lost nation. So, of course, he was always happy to share.

Scaramouche: A never ending fire. It's a small shack, engulfed by flames that never seem to dwindle or burn out the wood it feeds on. Like this place was stuck in time in his mind. He doesn't talk to you, not any more than a sharp shut up. The only time that glare he showed you disappeared is when you pulled your hand back from the curious fire with a hiss, not expecting it to actually hurt in this fake reality. For a moment you could have sworn he took a step towards you, but he never came any closer than that as he hissed at you to be careful. Dumb mortals should at least know not to burn themselves.

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eddiemuonson · 7 months

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Biker Boy - !biker Eddie Munson

As requested by my girlie anonymous friend, who gave such a great idea, here it is!! I used the details as an excuse to make this short story spicy 🥹

Summary: You and Eddie are friends with benefits. Whenever he has the chance, he always gives you a ride and everytime you hear the engine and him revving, your body goes crazy. You have a kink he doesn't know, so maybe it's time to finally get the word out.

Warnings: oral sex, fingering, cursing, fluffiness. +18 DNI

Word count: 2k.

His engine was revving in the distance as you heard the roar of his motorcycle approaching your neighborhood. As you're just finishing getting ready, the sound of his vehicle makes your heart do a flip, it's always automatic. The anticipation of watching him riding his machine always made its way in. You run to the front door as soon as he pulls over on your sidewalk.

You watch as he leans his bike to one side and dismounts gracefully, your stomach sinking from the view. Clad in his black leather jacket, Eddie was wearing ripped jeans - as always -, white sneakers and leather gloves. Oh, the leather gloves. They certainly did things to you.

You and your friend became closer over the past months, then you had the greatest idea of becoming friends with benefits. Something your friends didn't quite understand because you both decided you'd be exclusive to each other. Robin would always say it kinda gives away the term, because you wouldn't date other people.

The metalhead had his face hidden under the helmet, only showing the end of his hair and his big brown chocolate eyes. Everything just sends shivers down your spine. As soon as he got rid of the helmet, his hair flung revealing a mop of tousled curls. His dark green motorcycle had fat tires, decorated with a silly amount of stickers of every kind; bands, movies, games.

He had a gin, although he wasn't the biggest fan of a party. He promised he would only go because it was Steve's, and because his friend got into college.

"Hey sweet thing," he greeted you with a small kiss on your forehead. You gave him some space to get inside your house, leaving the helmet on the coffee table and taking his jacket off.

"It'll be a couple of minutes, just finishing my makeup". He only then noticed how pretty you were looking. You were wearing a tight black dress, brown boots and your hair was perfectly sat on a ponytail.

"You look too stunning to wear makeup," Eddie responded and you chuckled.

"Always such a gentleman". You took that opportunity to finally give him a proper kiss as he sat on the armrest of your couch. But then your eyes caught a glimpse of his hands still wearing the gloves.

Approaching him, you wrap your arms around his neck as he uses his right hand to tug on your waist while the other one goes to your face. The way the fabric sticks to your skin makes you immediately stiff your entire body and you've barely reached his lips, leaving only a few inches close to them.

When Eddie hears your light but recognizable moan, he looks at you lifting his eyebrows. You're almost making a fool of yourself but fuck that, you liked his hands in gloves. He didn't know that, because you never actually bothered telling him you had an actual kink. It's not like he never asked, he was always pretty curious to know your deepest secrets about your sex life.

"That was quick," he joked and you tried not to laugh at his taunting.

"Shut the fuck up". As you retorted him, you gave him a wet but already forwarded kiss, sliding your tongue inside his mouth. He tasted like cherry from the candy ball he usually eats after smoking. The tobacco smoke was lingering on his entire body, as well as his cheap perfume you love.

Eddie slid his hand down your body and gripped your hips before loosening his touch, threatening to remove his gloves. You desperately held his hands and shook your head. He tried to comprehend just what the hell you wanted.

"Keep the gloves," you begged. The man was barely existing and yet you were feeling like you were turning into jelly just at the thought of the leather touching your skin.

He smirked and raised his eyebrows, teasing you. "These? Huh". The way he reacted to it gave him an idea you haven't thought of yet, and still he was already light-years ahead of you. Eddie firmly grasped your waist and swung you, making you sit at the exact spot he was sitting.

He assaulted you with his feral tongue, liking yours and pulling your lower lip between his teeth. Boy, did he become another man after that. Using his left hand, Eddie started sliding it down your body, making sure to hold the curve under your breast, pressing his fingertips on your waist, reaching the hem of your dress.

The kiss became sloppy as soon as he slowly lifted it to your hip. Thank God you always chose a good lingerie. This time it was a thin, soft, lace pantie he was about to pull to the side. Before he did his main show, the curly haired metalhead squeezed your thigh and ripped a small mewl from your mouth against his.

His tone became husky and his cherry breath hit against your skin. "It's a shame I can't feel how wet you are right now. But I'm guessing you're soaking already". You whined by the feeling of his middle finger opening your folds, rubbing your wet skin with tenderness first. Eddie was always gentle, sometimes he rushed things, but you were headed to a party, so this one had to be fast.

Without warning, he made his way with his middle finger into you and you tightened your walls against his gloved digit. "Oh, fuck, Eddie". You cried out, your lips were parted. You were too busy to actually kiss him, but he was also focused on something else as well.

"Jesus, baby. You're so dirty," he breathed out against your ear. Eddie stuck his index finger to your cunt, along with the other, and the leather surely made it feel different from anything else.

His pace was calm, but the minute he felt you were used to the dressed fingers, he started to speed up, curling both, so they would hit your perfect spot. You're having a hard time breathing in and out, his thumb was rubbing against your swollen clit with so much desire.

Quickly, you unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans, facing his fat cock throbbing against his boxer. From your position, you could choose between just jerking him off or eating him whole.

You decided you would suck the life out of him. You started giving him wet kisses around his arousal, his tip, and his balls. It made him hiss, throwing his head back.

"Fuck, sweetie," he pleaded, working his fingers in a sweet, but fast motion. Eddie felt the back of your throat hit the tip and he almost stuttered, it was always hard for him to hold back his moans. He never actually lasted more than five minutes because you had the most fuckable mouth.

Bobbing your head up and down, you could still whine with his cock in your mouth, giving him a full lick as well. Your living room was quiet and the only sounds that could be heard was from his finger pumping and your moaning, along with the sucking.

Eddie was focusing on rubbing your clit ever so slowly, while his fingers worked harder and faster inside you. He used his plump lips to keep them on the top of your head, while pulling a handful of your hair with his free hand.

You didn't have boundaries at this point. You were both so close and so intimate, you would even fuck on a balcony, if you had one. Alone in a room, you were free to use your hands and your mouth deliberately. Just like now.

Almost gagging on his length, you made sure to grip on his cock, hollowing your cheeks making enough pressure for him to gasp so loud, he almost fainted. "Oh God, I'm gonna cum," he cried.

You never left the smirk on your face because you knew how good you were with your mouth, and he was always reassuring you. Eddie, on the other hand, was trying to not break down from your blowjob, keeping his fingers curled hitting your spot. It didn't take longer for your walls to start clenching around him.

He gripped your clit with his thumb, rubbing it faster, sloppy movements as he started to feel his own pleasure hitting the roof. You felt his cock twitch inside your mouth and you kept your pace, bobbing your head, until he released his juices down your throat.

Eddie loved seeing how you always swallowed him until the very last drop of it. He squinted his eyes closed, relishing every ounce of your saliva on his throbbing skin. "Fuck, you're so good," the metalhead whispered.

Not so much behind, you felt him pinching your clit while using only his middle finger inside you, watching as you bucked your hips, rocking them against his digits. "Ah, Munson". Using his last name as a resource to help you reach your own climax always worked and he knew that, he never complained.

As you throw your head back against the back of the couch, Eddie assaults your neck, nibbling on the skin, feeling your walls throb and clench around his gloved finger. "Yeah, cum for me baby girl". He always alternates his pet names towards you, so you would never know what would come next.

Your entire body squirmed around his fingers, your clit became too sensitive to the touch and your cunt closed tightly on his finger. You felt too weak on your knees and you were thankful for sitting on the couch, even though Eddie was still holding your neck.

You felt empty as soon as he removed his fingers from you and your stomach flipped. God, you felt so needy sometimes.

He zipped his pants back and pulled the belt. "You made such a mess on my glove, sweet thing".

"Good thing you have another one for us to use at the party". You respond as you fix your dress and walk to your bedroom.

You missed his reaction to your statement and he put on his glove back. It had your taste and your smell, he might as well use it as his accessory.

Ready and outside your house after a quick pornography, you stood at the side of his sleek vehicle, ensuring your safety before hopping on his bike. Next to his machine, he handed you the helmet, reaching out gently guiding you through the process.

Eddie always made sure to strap on it, so it wouldn't fall off your head during the ride, not too tight and not too loose either. "Thank you, handsome".

You swung your leg, hopping on the back of his bike, watching as the sky was casting a lavender hue over the quiet street of your neighborhood. You heard his revving and your heart jumps in, you loved it when he did that.

Just when he screeched the tires on the floor, you held your arms around his waist, placing both hands on his stomach. He loved driving too fast and he knew you hated it. Most of the time he would just speed up just a little to taunt you.

Approaching a red traffic light, Eddie slowed his vehicle, smoothly stopping as he supported both of you with one foot on the ground. As always, he turned his head slightly, resting his hands on your thighs, rubbing your knees with his gloved fingers.

You're thinking he didn't even bother to not wear the glove he used to fuck you, and you didn't know if you were actually more turned on or just feeling really repulsiveness. Either way, his endearment towards you always caught you off guard, he's too used to resting his hands on you at every fucking red light.

You smiled in return and just enjoyed his warm and steady touch, while you leaned your head against his back. As the light became green, he left his grip to hold the handlebars, speeding up the engine.

Eddie pulled up at Steve's house, the loud music was banging from a boombox inside his backyard. Before you both got inside, you reached for his wrist, gently squeezing his arm. He stopped by your side, brows furrowed.

"I'm not kidding about the glove, you better keep it clean", you pecked his lips quickly, before ringing the bell. You didn't expect him to be so close to you before responding.

"This time I'll use a special guest". You turned your head slightly, only to watch him licking his lips, teasing you. Eddie as a biker had you at his mercy, on your knees.

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 1 year

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I was thinking about inexperienced Eddie again, and then was thinking about sweet drunk Steve, and then this happened. Enjoy my dears!

~°~

So they're at a party. All the teens at Steve's house probably, it's the biggest house, with the most rooms, enough for everyone to stay over if they drink too much and can't drive home. They all pretty much have their own rooms there now anyway.

But Eddie still isn't used to being in large groups, not when the groups aren't hellfire anyway, so he's kinda quiet, sticks by steve or robin most of the time, or stays in the kitchen, eating all of Steve's food.

But now he's sat on the living room floor, next to steve, legs crossed, red solo cup in hand. There's music playing low, and steve is swaying slightly next to him, his cup his almost empy. His second cup. Or third. Eddie thinks he may have missed him refill it once. Steve's shoulder keeps brushing his and Eddie's hands are starting to sweat, his skin feels hotter and hotter everytime someone speaks.

He doesn't remember who suggested Never Have I Ever but he should have run. He should have made an excuse to leave. Or not made an excuse. He should have just fucking run for the door.

But how the fuck was he supposed to know they were gonna make every question about sex. Well, almost all of them, Nancy had seemingly taken pitty and said one about saving the world so they ALL had to drink.

But other than that, Eddie's cup had been resting on the floor near his feet, his hand resting on top it, fingers splayed, gripping it too tight probably, but he was... very uncomfortable. His fingers drum against the rim to the soft beat of the music, nervous.

He almost takes a drink when Argyle says something about kissing, even lifts his glass, but then he adds something about using your tongue in a way Eddie's never even fucking heard of and Eddie just closes his eyes, takes a deep breathe, and lowers his glass again.

"You're not drinking."

Eddie vaguely hears Steve speak, feels him lean into his shoulder.

"Hmm?" He hums back, his eyes blinking hazily as he drags them from the floor, he lets them settle on Steve's nearly empty cup instead.

"Yer not drinking." He slurs into Eddie's ear, his voice quiet. His breath on Eddie's cheek makes him shiver.

"Nope." Eddie whispers back, shaking his head once.

"Not thristy?" Steve asks, and he sounds, so genuine. Eddie looks at him, leaning to the side a bit so Steve's face isn't so close. Steve blinks at him, his eyelids heavy, he looks, very drunk. But also beautiful. Eddie shrugs, looks away again.

"Just playing the game." He mutters, glances back to Steve and sees him frown. He watches him, his brows furrowed in confusion, his eyes moving a bit, like he's trying to solve a problem in his head. Eddie bites his lip, looks back to the floor.

"You-" Steve starts, stops, his hand moves to Eddie's knee as he moves closer. Eddie's breath catches in his throat, he looks at Steve again, his face so so close.

"You didn't drink. Cuz... no sex?" Steve's brow is furrowed again. Jesus, how fucking much had he had to drink? Eddie had to have missed more than a cup or two. He snorts, can't help it. Steve looks so confused, but like he's trying to be... something.

"Yeah Steve. I no sex." Eddie nods, pats Steve's knee and gently moves Steve's hand back into his own lap.

"Not even kisses?" Steve whispers, and he looks sad now, his lips pouting as he looks at Eddie, his eyes dropping to linger on Eddie's lips for a moment before he blinks and looks back up.

Eddie shakes his head, all the air in his lungs suddenly gone. Steve watches him for a beat longer and then nods, apparently deciding something. Eddie gulps, but Steve just reaches for his cup, picks it up and silently poors half of Eddie's beer into his own.

"Steve, don't. You've had-"

"Is fine." Steve whispers back, shaking his head.

"M' running out anyway." He passes his cup to his other hand and points at himself with a little wave of his hand.

"I do... too much sex. I think." He frowns again, looks around the cirlce, hears whatever it is Jonathan says and snorts, takes another drink and then looks back to Eddie.

"See. Drinking again." Steve says, smiling widely. Eddie frowns, but looks away. His hand clenching on his cup, he almost crushes the plastic before he thinks to let go. He leans to his other side, toward Robin, her cup isn't nearly as empty as anyone else's either.

"Hey Rob's?" Eddie asks, involuntarily flinching at the laughter that rings through the room.

"What's up?" She asks, leaning into him, her eyes bright.

"I think Steve's had... too much? To drink maybe." He says it quietly. Like he's unsure. He doesn't wanna ruin the party, or the game, or the moment, or whatever. But he's... concerned. Robin's brow crinkles and then she leans forward to look past Eddie. Eddie looks too, both of them watching as Steve sways forward, almost falls onto his face and then sways back, laughing to himself.

"Oh. Yeah no. Cut him off. I'll take him to his room. Get him some water." She starts to move, like she's getting up.

"I can get it." Eddie says, his hand on her shoulder. She gives him a look, one of those looks Eddie can never decipher. He knows Robin sees more of him than he's shared with anyone. Except Wayne. But it's never judgemental, and he knows why, but its never expectant either. It's just this look she gives him.

"You sure?" She ask, her hand still on the floor like she's gonna shove herself to her feet.

"Yeah. Yeah I'm not uh... not exactly enjoying this game very much anyway. You stay. I got it." He watches her drop her eyes to Eddie's cup, and he's suddenly sure she'd seen Steve take half of it for him, because she smiles, softly, and nods.

"Okay. Thanks. Don't forget the water. And put a couples aspirin on his nightstand too for the morning. Or he'll-"

"Get a migraine. On it." Eddie finishes, she smiles again, big this time. He pats her shoulder.

"Have fun." He says, cringing when the room fills with laughter again. He slides his cup to her and then looks back to Steve.

"Hey." He says softly, his hand hovering above Steve's knee, he decides to touch his arm instead, Steve's head sways toward him and he smiles when he sees Eddie looking at him.

"Hey." He breathes back, his breath smelling like beer.

"You wanna come with me big guy? So you can get some rest?" Eddie asks, his fingers curling around Steve's wrist. He sighs, drops his head to Eddie's shoulder.

"Rest sounds nice." He hums, nuzzling closer. Eddie laughs, can't help it, he's nervous and drunk Steve is... new. He's never been around drunk Steve before.

"Okay well not here. I'm gonna help you get to your room okay?" Eddie says, pushing up onto his knees so he can help Steve stand. He nods, lets Eddie pull him up and hold him steady.

"Are you leaving brochachos?" Argyle calls from across the circle, the others all groan, sad.

"I have to rest now!" Steve shouts at them, pointing accusingly at them, but he's smiling.

"Aww he's sleepy!" Jonathan calls back, his voice almost as slurred as Steve's, Eddie watches him fall into Argyle's side, giggling.

"Ya know what!?" Steve yells, stops, his face falling as he forgets what he was saying. His eyes find Eddie and he his lips curl a bit, his hands grab Eddie's shoulders, steadying himself.

"M' tired Eddie." He mumbles, frowning again. Eddie nods, his hands moving to hold Steve's arms.

"I know. Let's go bud." And he leads Steve away, both of them waving to the chorus of good byes and goodnights behind them.

~°~

Getting Steve to bed is easier than Eddie guessed it would be, he'd been slumping into Eddie more with each step down the hall. Eddie was pretty sure he was almost alseep on his feet already.

There was one moment of panic, when Steve was changing into his pajamas and the zipper on his jeans got stuck, and he'd grabbed Eddie's hand, guided it to his zipper and requested he fix it. Eddie had nearly yelped and stumbled back, away from Steve. But he was standing with his eyes closed, swaying on the spot, waiting for help so he could sleep. So Eddie had done his best with shaking hands to get the zipper down. Steve had slurred a thank you and shoved his jeans down so fast he almost slammed his head into Eddie's. He had jumped back then, out of Steve's headbutting range.

He'd turned his back while Steve changed and then heard the rustling of sheets and turned to find Steve getting settled beneath his sheets.

"I gotta go get you some water. And some medicine for your head so Robin doesn't kill me. But I'll be back okay?" Eddie tells Steve, he watches Steve snort, his eyelids drooping again.

"Robin." Is all he says after the laugh, and it makes Eddie smile. He jogs back down to the kitchen, grabs a glass of water and some meds, and then heads back up, passing the living room he hears hushed voices, the game apparently over now. He peeks in, sees them all cuddled together sleepily on the floor, Robin is the only one who notices him, she waves with her free hand. Eddie smiles, her other hand is tangled up with Nancy's, and runs back up the stairs.

Steve is still awake, but barely. He's leaning against the head rest, his head tilted back, mouth dropped open, but one eye pops open when hears Eddie's chains jingle back into the room.

"You came back." Steve says with a smile, his hand lifting from his sheets to reach for Eddie. He sits on the edge of the bed and hands Steve the glass of water.

"I want you drink at least half of this before you sleep okay?" Eddie says, trying to use his stern voice, knows it doesn't work. But it doesn't matter. Steve takes the glass and nods with wide eyes before chugging the whole thing. He wipes his mouth with his hand, hiccups as he hands it back to Eddie.

"Thirsty." Is all he says, he's blinking slowly again. Eddie chuckles.

"Okay awesome. Yeah. Good job. I'll refill it." He moves to get up, but Steve grabs his wrist, then slides down, laying his head on his pillows.

"Not right now. Just stay here. Promise?" Steve's eyes are closed, but his grip on Eddie is firm.

"Okay. I promise." Eddie breathes, his heart pounding in his throat. He waits for Steve fall asleep, it doesn't take long. And he goes to refill the glass, comes back and sits on the floor, his back to Steve's bed.

He knows he should lay down, should sleep. Will regret it in the morning. And he's about to, lay down, when Steve speaks behind him.

"No one's really ever even kissed you?" His voice says, and then Eddie feels Steve's fingers brush his hair, genlty. He shakes his head, not sure if Steve can see him in the dark, he clears his throat.

"Uh... not really. I don't think kisses under the jungle gym in 4th grade count in that game." Eddie says, shrugs.

"Hmmm... maybe not." His voice is still heavy, still open. There's a beat. And then.

"Is it cuz you like boys?"

And Eddie's heart stops, his stomach drops, and he feels like he might cry. He doesn't turn around. Doesn't say anything. Doesn't defend himself. And then Steve says.

"Boys are pretty. But it's scary kissing boys. Or.. or wanting to. But I bet it's nice." He sighs, and Eddie thinks he might be alseep again. His hands clawing at his own thighs, fingers digging in as they shake. His breathing is shakey too. He feels like he might shake out of his own skin and just float away.

"I guess it's just... no one's ever wanted me." Eddie whispers into the dark. He sure Steve's won't hear him. Sure he won't remember any of this anyway. And he hadn't been... mean, or... judgmental, just... asking. And honest.

And then Steve is touching him. He moves the hair away from Eddie's neck easily, like he's done it a thousand times, and then Eddie's breath catches again when he feels Steve's lips press to the back of his neck, just once, but it's a firm press, full of intent. And then he's gone. Falling back onto his pillows.

"There. Kissed you." He says, and Eddie can hear him smiling. And then, seconds later, he hears him snoring. Soft little things, peaceful.

The warmth of his skin lingers on Eddie neck. He moves his hand slowly, brushes his fingers over the spot gently, shivering in the dark.

~°~

Eddie leaves before Steve wakes up in the morning. He wants to wait. But he has a half shift at the shop today and he has to shower first. He leaves a note, tells Steve to take the aspirin. And tells him to have a good day.

He draws a little demon smiley face at the bottom. Almost signs it "yours, Eddie." But just writes his name and runs.

Work goes well. He's nearly finshed rebuilding the engine he's been working on for months. He's covered in grease and dirt, but he feels good. Feels usefull. His neck has been tingling all day.

He's just getting out of the shower again when he hears the knock at the door.

"Shit. Gimme a minute!" He calls, patting at himself hurriedly with his towel, he grabs a pair of boxers and sweatpants, yanks them on over his damp legs. Nearly falling as he does, grabs a clean shirt from his laundry basket on the floor and shoves himself into it. His hair is still up in a messy bun but he jogs to the door.

"Coming!" He yanks the door open to find Steve. Standing in the light rain that had apparently started.

"Shit. You're getting wet, come in." Eddie steps back, waves him in.

Steve hovers by the door, he's staring at Eddie, his hands shoved in his pockets, his hair looking more wild than normal. There are dark circles under his eyes. He looks tired, but his eyes are bright. Eddie takes a step back, looks to the floor, feeling nervous under his scrutiny.

"You uh... you okay? You're head feeling alright?" Eddie asks, to cut the silence. Cannot stand the silence.

"Yeah. Heads good. You're hair-" Steve stops talking when Eddie's eyes land on him again. Eddie's hand reaches up, then falls back to his side, his cheeks feeling hot.

"Oh. Yeah. I washed it this morning, before work. Didn't wanna wash it again." He shrugs, huffs a little laugh. Not sure what else to say.

"It looks nice. Like that." Steve says, then clears his throat. And that's when it hits Eddie, the look that Steve has going, he looks nervous.

"Are you okay?" Eddie asks, stopping himself from taking a step forward. Steve's eyes widen in question, and then he's nodding, his teeth digging into his lip briefly.

"Yeah I'm good. I just... I wanted to talk to you." Steve says, sighs loudly.

"About last night." His face scrunches, like he doesn't wanna be saying it. Oh. Of course. Of course that's what it is. Eddie swallows, squares his shoulders, guard up. He nods, waves his hand at Steve.

"Don't worry about it man. You were drunk." He turns, walks into the kitchen, clears his throat, hard, to dislodge the firey lump that's growing there. His hand moves without his permission, fingers touching the back of his neck.

"Wait what?" Steve's confused voice says, before he follows Eddie into the small kitchen space.

"What?" Eddie echoes.

"I- I didn't come here to apologize for anything." Steve says, bluntly, his hands out of his pockets now, they're worrying over his thighs, smoothing back and forth over his jeans.

"You... didn't?" Eddie's brow furrows, he wraps his arms around his middle, watches Steve gulp as he shakes his head.

"Then why are you here?" Eddie leans against the counter, now as far away from Steve as he can get, but Steve isn't having that, he keeps moving closer, slowly.

"I came to tell you something." Steve says, slowly, his lips pressing together before he licks them.

"Tell me what?" Eddie's voice is small, his breathing is faster than he'd like it to be, heart thundering agaisnt his ribs.

"I do." Is all Steve says. Unhelpful.

"You... do. You do what?" Eddie asks, his voice higher than it should be, Steve is still moving, closer and closer, step by step.

"Last night. You said, no one's ever wanted you." Steve speaks slowly, his eyes glued to Eddie's face.

"Okaaaay..." Eddie so lost, his brain isn't working right, he's missing something, he knows he is. He can feel it, see it in the way Steve is looking at him expectantly.

"Well. You were wrong. Cuz I do. I want you." Steve clarifies, finally, blinking at Eddie as he takes a step, placing him one step away from Eddie.

"You want- no you don't. You were drunk. Very drunk. And you just- you're very clingy when you're drunk. It's not-" Eddie's mouth runs wild, tossing out excuses because this can't be real. Steve can't be saying what he's saying. But Steve is also smiling.

"I was drunk. Yes. But I remember you saying that. I remember how sad you looked during that fucking game. I remember saying some things to you I probably shouldn't have, not without you telling me first. I am sorry about that, actually." He tilts his head forward, Eddie swallows, nods, bites his lip, his throat is burning again.

"But I also remember kissing you. I remember how hot your neck was against my lips. And I remember all the things I've been thinking about you, for months, while completely sober." He smiles, reaches out, his fingers ghosting over Eddie's wrist where its settled against his stomach.

"I've been thinking about kissing you for ages. I just- drunk me has less... self preservation." Steve smiles, it's crooked, like he's tucking his cheek in so he doesn't laugh. Eddie thinks it maybe matches his crooked smile now.

"Drunk you thinks you're a slut." Eddie huffs a laugh, Steve barks one, nods, takes that last step.

"Yeah. I kinda used to be." He shrugs, both hands reaching out to Eddie now, resting on his elbows.

"Well I'm not." Eddie says, a little more harsh than he meant to, but it doesn't deter Steve, just makes him smile again.

"I know. Kissing under a jungle gym definitely doesn't give you slut status." Steve teases. Eddie blushes, looks away, his eyes drop to the floor.

"I don't understand." Eddie sighs, brow furrowed.

"Don't understand what? Why I want you if you've never done anything?" Steve asks, blunt now too. And Eddie kind of loves it, the way he can just say it. Eddie nods.

"Why would you want someone like me? No one else does. And now I've got this. These." He points to the jagged scar on his cheek, motions over the rest of himself, to his other hidden scars. Steve moves then, fast, tugs Eddie's arms away from himself and grabs his hips, presses into Eddie's space.

"It doesn't have anything to do with that. I don't care that you have no experience. That's not... that not why I date people. Besides, it might nice. Ya know, I've never been with a guy before, we could figure it out together." There's a question in Steve's eyes, like he's asking. Eddie bites his lip, tugs it between his teeth and then lets his hands move. Rests them on Steve's shoulders, he nods,

"That could be nice." He echoes. Steve nods, presses a little closer, his thighs bumping Eddie's.

"I think so. And the scars, we kinda match. Like little fucked up puzzle peices." Steve whispers. Eddie laughs then, big, and bright. Steve pulls him closer, wraps his arms around him and hugs him, tucks his face into Eddie's neck. Eddie grabs at his shoulders, holds him tightly, his body shaking at all the contact.

"You're trembling." Steve breathes into his neck. Eddie nods quickly, feeling frantic now. Steve moves to look at him.

"That's only gonna get worse. The more you touch me." Eddie admits, feels his whole body flush, Steve bites his lip, his fingers move over the heat along Eddie's neck as his eyes darken.

"What are you thinking about?" Eddie asks, his hands tugging on Steve's sweater, he knows his hands are sweating, is pretty sure Steve doesn't care.

"I'm thinking..." he trailes off, hooks one finger into the collar of Eddie shirt and tugs it down a bit.

"I wanna see how far this goes." He brushes his thumb over Eddie's neck again, it drags a whimper out his throat, Steve's dark eyes meet his, a smile curls his lips. But it's not a sweet Steve smile, there's a hunger there now that wasn't there before. Eddie gulps.

"I'm in trouble aren't I?" He asks, body shaking as Steve tugs their hips together again, leans closer and closer, his breath ghosting over Eddie's lips as he says,

"Oh you have no idea."

Eddie chuckles, laughs into his first real kiss, before Steve deepens it, genlty, dragging a moan out of him.

Later. When they're tangled together on Eddie's bed, clothes rumpled and shoved at odd angles, Eddie's hair no longer pulled back, Steve holding him close as his breathing finally evens out, Steve tells him it was perfect. The perfect Eddie first kiss.

He tangles his hands in Eddie's hair, pulls him closer, and tells him he can't wait to see what other kinds of kisses Eddie might be hiding. Tells Eddie that any and every kiss he laughs into will be perfect. Because they're his. And now Eddie is too.

#fates endless inkwell #fei #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #my writing #mine #my fic #inexperienced eddie munson #sweet drunk steve harrington

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stariekis · 3 months

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red tinted marks

🛋️ pairing : 엔하이픈 ot7 + gn!reader . genre : fluff . cw : tons of kisses ~

— synopsis : pretty boys covered in pretty kissy marks.

— notes : © idea from my own post ! it was supposed to be a jake one shot but i loved the idea way too much so ot7 version it is ~ hope you like it pls reposts and feedback are very much welcome ⭐. thank you for reading <3

heeseung :

oh he would be down as soon as your petition left your lips ... even though he seems like the type of guy who hates doing those "cheesy" trends he is way too down bad for you that he won't be able to say no. so there you are, leaving kiss marks on your boyfriend's face while he looks at you with the biggest eyes ever, admiring your features everytime you pulled away with a smirk on his face.

jay :

he would be more than happy, as soon as his girl is happy of course. when he sees you all excited with your red lipstick on, he couldn't say no and it was also a pretty cute idea he thought. you focused on his jawline, your favorite feature of him, going up to his cheeks and also leaving little pecks on his lips making him giggle a bit. moments like this are very precious to him, nothing better than spending time with his favorite girl.

jake :

puppy ikeu agenda is back ~ as i said in my post he would be the one asking you to do it, showing you the video and begging on his knees to recreate it ) : as soon as you said yes he was running to your room to grab one of your lipstick. grabbing your face in his hands he applied the red tint on you lips while biting his lower lip trying to contain his excitement. once you were ready he sat down and closed his eyes, letting out giggles everytime your lips brushed against his features. he was living a dream, feeling the happiest man alive.

sunghoon :

he would act roughly all the time, lips pressed into a thin line as you leave kisses all over his pretty face. in reality he was enjoying more than ever, goosebumps going up and down his body every time your lips touch his face. as the teaser he is he would turn his head to the side capturing you lips and kissing you softly, now his lips are also tinted in a reddish tone.

sunoo :

he wants to leave kisses on your face too!!! when you showed him some videos of couples doing that trend he told you that he wants to do that to you too 'you would look adorable baby please ~ ' he said begging you, and who are you to decline such a thing? so at the end both of you would have your faces covered in red kiss marks and his gallery full of pictures and videos of you both together.

jungwon :

giggling wonie is all i can think about. he would be giggling the whole time with his eyes closed focusing on the feeling of your lips all over his features. he would let you take tons of pictures of him right after so you can use one as your wallpaper. he would look so cute, his eyes shining, his natural bushy cheeks and his pretty features covered in kiss marks.

ni-ki :

he is a softie ) : he might be a little hesitant at first but he was actually waiting for you to ask him to do it. he played cool as if he wasn't the happiest boy ever at that moment. after leaving the first peck on his cheek his boxy smile would appear instantly, breaking his character completely. his hands resting on you hips and your trapping his face 'babe that tickles' he said, moving back a bit and letting out a soft laugh when he saw your lipstick all smeared.

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yuutasprincess · 7 months

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Day 4: Toge Inumaki

Word Count: 1.9k Warnings: Dubcon, spit, thigh fucking, he cums in you, readers kind of mean but not on purpose

If someone were to ask Toge what he likes about you he’d stay quiet. It isn’t that he has something against you, but god do you know how to bend him. He’s wrapped around your pretty finger, hearts in his eyes everytime he hears your name. It all began as a simple crush, a consequence of spending so much time in the company of only two women—Maki, who often scolded him relentlessly and adorned him with fresh bruises every other day, and you, the sweet girl who would tenderly mend his injuries while flashing a mischievous grin at the new blue marks forming on his skin.

Though perhaps "sweetest" isn't the most fitting descriptor for you. It's just too tempting for Toge to resist your playful provocations. A gentle touch on his elbow to draw him nearer, a flirtatious flutter of your eyelashes in his direction, and a few sugary words are all it takes to have him eating out of your hand. There may not be a clear label for whatever dynamic exists between the two of you. While officially declaring Toge as your boyfriend would bring a semblance of normalcy, the thrill of being tantalizingly out of reach is simply too irresistible.

He wants you so incredibly bad, craves your praise, yearning for your attention with a desperation that knows no bounds. Toge isn't entirely sure how things escalated to this point. Maybe it was that one haunting night when you slipped into his room after a particularly grueling mission. He woke up with heavy-lidded eyes, swollen lips, and a throbbing neck adorned with telltale marks. All he had to remember that night was a bad hair day and the lingering taste of you.

The thing about Toge is that he doesn’t outright show his attraction around others. It becomes less fun teasing him when a group is present, his countenance remains stoic, with a subtle quirk of his eyebrow at most when you take the seat next to him and place a hand on his knee. Beneath his collar, an unnoticeable flush creeps up, a nod in your direction and eyes flicking to whoever else is around him.

His biggest struggle is when you slide in next to him when everyone goes out to eat, fingers sneaking between his thighs to paw at his hardening cock. You’re so evil, stifling a laugh behind your drink while he’s slumped in his seat acting as if he’s hiding a smile when really he’s trying not to cum his pants. You don't make it any easier for him afterward either. No, you send a sweet, taunting kiss his way and give a playful wave to everyone before being the first to make your exit.

In his mind, there's an extensive catalog of every tantalizing thing you do to him. He imagines you desiring him just as fervently as he longs for you. He thinks about how good you’d feel most of the time, sure he’s been between your legs. Eating you out as if he’s been starved, pretty fingers digging into the skin of your thighs and lips wrapped around your buzzing clit. But god, he’d do anything to fuck you.

Toge's love knows no bounds; he would willingly follow you anywhere, simply to bask in your presence.

Late-night snack runs are Toge's favorite, frequently evolving into moments that leave him craving for more. So, when he hears a knock at the door, he's quick to throw on his jacket and meet you in the hallway. Maki has a hankering for something spicy, Yuuta's got a sweet tooth, and Panda's in the mood for anything crunchy. Toge, on the other hand, holds no particular preference; if he's lucky, you might reward him with a lingering kiss for shouldering the bags of snacks.

As you walk side by side, the world seems to blur. Your shoulders brush against each other, and his fingertips ache to interlock with yours. He hears your words, but he's not truly listening. Something about Maki discovering a new coffee spot for your group, and while everything you say is undeniably interesting, when he's in such close proximity to you, essentially breathing the same air, his ability to focus is gone.

“I had a dream last night…” it drowns out, his eyes reading your lips to give him an excuse to imagine them wrapped around his- “You were in it.” Ok, now he’s listening.

His head tilts, marked tongue slipping out to wet his lower lip. “Wanna know what happened? I can act it out for you.” you tease, feet abruptly halting, you grab his arm and pull him into a nearby alley,

You guys never make it to the convenience store.

Lips meet lips, and for Toge, it's like drowning. The kiss is everything to him, a fervent, messy exchange of emotions mirroring the depths of his feelings. He can't help but wonder if you can feel just how much he wants you; it seems impossible not to know. His hands find the back of your neck, his slender fingers gently pinching at the skin of your nape, prompting a scoff from you but he quickly pulls you back and slips his tongue to meet yours. It’s overwhelming, he forces himself to breathe through his nose, his every exhale is your inhale as he won’t let you separate.

You’re patting his chest, tongue licking at the roof of his mouth until he groans and you can part. “Wow-” and he’s back on you. “Toge-” Tongue trying to slide back into your mouth. “Hey! Toge-” You have to force yourself out of his hold, lips chasing yours as he whines low in his chest. “Come on Toge, let’s go get the stuff then we can continue this…” But he knows you too well, knows you’ll just tease him at the store.

You’ll talk candy in his ear and cling to him, maybe give him another intense kiss then you'll part ways, leaving him in a state of torment until the cycle begins anew. Toge is caught in the endless loop, unable to bear the longing any longer. He wants you.

"Stay," his voice, so seldom heard, sends a shiver down your spine, leaving your knees weak. You barely hear him speak outside of his curse, and when you do, it lingers in your mind for days. You can see everything, feel the intensity of his touch, but as he said, you don't move. You remain locked in that moment, an unspoken agreement between you both. His kisses are feverish, marking the curve of your neck before claiming your lips.

It’s an odd sensation, having no control of your body as he slips your shirt over your chest, fingers sliding into the cups of your bra to pull your breasts out and pinch at your nipples. A shiver runs down your spine, his head bending down to spit on each tit before taking the left into his mouth and moaning. It’s everything he’s imagined, ok, maybe not exactly like how he pictured this happening.

Toge drools all over your chest, cheeks flushed a deep red as he watches you, your expression is flat but he can see the way your eyes glaze over. The unspoken truth lingers between you both: you want him just as desperately as he wants you, and he knows it. His mouth leaves your nipple with a string of saliva that he breaks with a swipe of his tongue, fingers grazing your sides before unbuttoning your pants.

His hands are shaky as he pulls your jeans down to your thighs, eyes dropping to the way your panties hug your pussy and the noticeable damp spot. His tongue feels heavy, throat itching as he resists the urge to rip your underwear off and tongue fuck you until his cursed speech breaks and you have to push his head away, desperate to reclaim a semblance of control. But he doesn’t do that. Rather, he slides your panties down to meet your jeans and he stands.

Kissing you over and over until your bodies sway and he has to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you standing while the other pulls his pants down enough to let his leaking cock free. Pushing his sensitive tip between your thighs he rolls his hips, breathing heavily in your ear as he grinds against your pussy, arousal coating his length and precum sticky between your legs.

It’s hard to stop kissing you, he’s sucking on your tongue, forcing your mouth open so he can spit into it before forcing you into a sloppy kiss where he can tilt your head back and make you swallow. Toge can't stop the whining and groaning, he wants to cum so bad but the idea of cumming inside you is too tempting. His cock slips into you with ease, your body forcefully relaxed as you stand still in his hold while he humps your shivering body.

There’s so many things he wants to say, wants to praise you and tell you how deeply he feels for you. How if he could he’d fuck you everyday until your pussy is shaped to take only him. You’re so warm, walls clenching around him and cunt gushing with every thrust, he feels so sensitive, he’s never been so pent up. Toge could cum any second, his jaw tense as he waits for his speech to wear off so you can really react while he fills you.

“Shit- shit!” you sound so good, so fucking sweet and breathless as he pulls you in impossibly tight. Arms circling your waist and lips finding your tit again as he sucks on your breast while you try to fill your lungs with air. His hips never stopping as he fucks you, thrusts quick with no specific aim, he can’t bring himself to pull out to the tip when you feel so good. Your hands pull at his hair, head thrown back and knees buckling as he bites hard enough to leave marks on your chest.

What pushes Toge over the edge is the way you look down at him, head falling onto your shoulder and eyes staring directly into his. He’s so smitten, just a glance has him digging his blunt nails into your lower back and hips stuttering as he cums. And when you’re not cumming with him, body trying to catch up with the sudden control of your limbs, he's panting in your ear. “Cum.” and fuck, the way you soak his cock and tighten around him has his brain melting.

When time resumes he has the nerve to look at you shyly, eyes wide and chin damp with his own drool as he softly ruts against you, oversensitivity creeping up on you. “Toge, you pervert” And you grin at him, that malicious teasing quirk of your lips that has him utterly ensnared. His cock twitches inside of you as he focuses on the white ring at the base of his length, he can’t look you in the eye. Too afraid he’ll cum just as quick again.

“If you wanted to fuck me so bad you should have just said so.” this time it's you kissing him, he’s moaning into your mouth and cumming when you spit onto his tongue, his eyes squeezing shut as you grip his hips and force him to keep sliding in and out of your pussy, “Stay” this time, it’s you commanding him. Voice sharp as he bites his tongue and lets you use his body.

Toge knows that you don't possess the same level of control over him that he exerts over you. But he’ll be damned if he lets this opportunity pass. And he knows Maki is going to give you guys shit when you come back in the early morning. But how can he complain when he's dreamt about this for so long.

#don't mention the missing days #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #cw dubious consent #inumaki x reader #inumaki smut #inumaki x you #inumaki x y/n #jujustsu kaisen x reader #kinktober

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rrxnjun · 9 months

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where do broken hearts go? [lmk]

you know what they say about past lovers that can remain just as friends - either they're still in love with each other, or they never were in the first place.

pairing: mark lee x fem! reader

genre: exes to lovers. angst, fluff.

wc: 12k (11.926)

warnings: mention of sex, weed and alcohol, heartbreak, swearing, park jihoon of treasure is one sassy bitch and also accidentally somehow the main character of this fanfic plz dont @ me, inconsistent writing style bc i took 3 months and 3 depressive episodes to finish this fic

playlist: where do broken hearts go - one direction / too good to say goodbye - bruno mars / everytime - ariana grande / closer - waterparks / tornado warnings - sabrina carpenter / survive the night - the boyz

a/n: hey do some of you still remember me..... AHAHA tell a friend to tell a friend rrxnjun is BACK! this fic isn't the ideal vision i had in my mind but we are working on not being so hard on ourselves with our writing so! here we are. i still kind of like it :,)

When you walk up to your best friend’s apartment one day with a tub of ice cream under your arm and the biggest pout on your face, Park Jihoon makes a complete list of things you should do to get over your failed relationship with Mark Lee. And while you think your dear friend has some psychopathic tendencies sometimes, you’d say the list is actually pretty reasonable of him.

There’s something about the five simple steps that makes you wonder if it’s really as easy as Jihoon makes it sound. And while you doubt it– because the pinging pain in your heart makes it seem like the heartbreak is truly going to kill you in a few minutes if you don’t do something about it– you give it a try, because come on… you’d do anything to not feel like this ever again.

Step one – cry it out.

“He was a cunt anyway,” Jihoon mutters as he steps into the living room with two spoons in his hands, throwing one of them to you– while almost managing to hit you in the middle of your forehead in the process, adding a concussion to the mix of problems you have going on right now– and you find yourself furrowing your brows at his hateful comment.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Well, as your best friend, I’m supposed to be on your side, no?” he says as he takes a seat on the sofa next to you, watching as you wrap one of the thick blankets you got for the male around your figure– you bought it mainly for yourself, because his apartment is cold as a freezer and you knew he wouldn’t buy one for you to use in the first place– and shrugs. “Besides, he broke your heart, and any male who does that is a cunt in my eyes.”

“I broke up with him,” you mourn, “so I broke my own heart,” you snicker, despair fully filling you up from the inside– fitting everywhere into your lungs and choking you up from how bad you truly feel. Now, this isn’t your first breakup– you’ve had your fair share of boyfriends in high school (in your baddie era, as Jihoon called it), but Choi Yeonjun from Maths class and Jung Woonyoung, the guy you dated for a total of 2 months over the summer break before he moved away, weren’t exactly boys you found yourself falling in love with. Sure, you liked them, you kissed them and went on dates with them– hell, you even hooked up with Yeonjun once before you realized the relationship truly wasn’t for you– but no one managed to cave into your heart just as much as Mark Lee, your first college boyfriend did.

“But you sure had a reason for it, come on!” Jihoon huffs, taking the tub of ice cream from your hands and opening it for you, since you’ve gotten quite weak from the lack of sleep and nutritions ever since the break up, hands clammy and not cooperating. “You don’t just break up with someone to break your own heart. He did that, that’s why you said goodbye to him,” he says before sitting the enormous tub of ice cream between your two bodies, nudging you to dig into the frozen delicacy.

“Yeah, but–”

“No buts, young lady. We are here to make you forget you ever even dated Mark Lee, so open up, eat the ice cream and focus your attention on Titanic so you can finally cry it out,” he says, and by the tone of his voice, you’d think he’s angry with you. Jihoon has this aura around him that makes you think he’s always at least a little annoyed at everything– but he told you to not mind it and that it’s just his sassy bitch attitude.

He does have a point, though. You broke up with Mark because he broke your heart first– there was no other reason for it. If it was something minor, something small, you were sure you could work on it. You have, numerous of times before, brought up something and had a mature conversation about it– something you always so admired about Mark, being so cautious and understanding when navigating problems in the relationship– but when you bring up the same thing over and over, and it never gets fixed despite him telling you he’ll try harder next time, you think you’re allowed to feel a little heartbroken at his nonexistent efforts. And that’s exactly why you decided to quit the relationship– after a while, you felt like you were putting in more effort than he was, effectively making you feel like he’s not even that interested in dating you in the first place.

First, he just told you he was forgetful. He forgot he promised to pick you up from class one day– and you said that it’s okay, he is busy, after all– and it was the first time it happened, so you didn’t really mind that much, truly. Then, he forgot about the date you scheduled– but it was fine, because you didn’t have reservations anyway, you could change the day to any other day of the week, after all. He kept forgetting the stuff you told him in between the conversations you shared– and it was small things, you understand, but sometimes, you wondered if he was ever really listening to you at all.

Forgetful soon turns not interested in your eyes, and when he doesn’t call you in the evening like he promised he would, when he doesn’t show up to the party you invited him to, because he forgot it was that day, you’re one step closer to calling it quits, because each and every one of these situations sends a sharp pain into your stomach. The last straw was just last week, though– and realistically, it was an important day, as much that you thought the day is somehow gonna fix everything, but the truth is somewhere completely else as Mark Lee forgets about your one year anniversary and never shows up at your doorstep for the dinner you prepared for the two of you like he promised he would.

And it doesn’t click in him two days after either– you don’t even get a text. He got so forgetful over time that he forgot about you completely, and that’s when you took an uber to his place and broke up with him for good.

And even though the breakup was the most painful thing you’ve ever felt yourself go through, Jihoon is right– you’re not the one that broke your own heart. Mark Lee did that for you many times before, and this was just the breaking point.

“Fucking hell, you bought cookies and cream again?” Jihoon huffs when he takes another spoonful of the ice cream into his mouth, eyebrows furrowing at the sweet taste. Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you wipe your left cheek as you hum, immune to his nagging by now.

“You know I hate cookies and cream!”

“You know, Hoon, I bought this for myself. When you’re the one that’s heartbroken, we’ll share your favorite ice cream flavor instead,” you mumble, munching on the coldness on your tongue, sniffling a little when your eyes avert to the TV screen.

And after that, the teasing from your best friend’s side stops. Maybe it’s just because he hates to see you cry– and he rarely gets the chance, if you’re being honest, since you’re pretty good at handling your emotions– but you secretly know that it’s because when he looks back at the TV screen in front of the two of you, the sad part of the movie hasn’t even started yet and the tears are not the result of the movie, but of your own thoughts instead.

Step two – give him back all of his stuff and the stuff he’s given you that reminds you of him. Demand that he does the same.

Now, step two was a thing most couples do when they break up. Realistically, it makes sense– you wouldn’t want stuff that’s not yours just laying around, and also, it’s just bound to remind you of the person you lost. Naturally, you’d want to return it.

“Why does he have to return my things as well?” you mutter under your breath as Jihoon helps you fold all Mark’s hoodies into a cardboard box, alongside with wrapping the little things your ex boyfriend made out of ceramic for you in tissue paper like you asked him to– even though he complained and said that it shouldn’t matter to you if they break, because you are the heartbroken one– but you held those little things too close to your heart to let them get damaged in the first place.

“Because that’s how it works,” Jihoon hums, watching as you throw another one of Mark’s shirts onto the top of his head, shielding his vision. “What, you don’t want your stuff back?”

“I mean…” you mumble, deeply considering of the fact that the thought of getting your stuff back didn’t even cross your mind until now, before you realize your favorite pair of socks is thrown somewhere in Mark’s drawers– the blue ones with peaches on them– and you suddenly have the revelation that while you don’t necessarily need the stuff back, you’d love to wear those socks again. “I guess…” you note as you walk over to Jihoon and take a glance into the full cardboard box, looking over the stuff and chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“It’s like witchcraft, y’know,” Jihoon points out, looking at you with fierce eyes mirroring the stupid idea that just flashed through his brain, “if you don’t exchange the things, a piece of you is still kept at his apartment and you won’t be able to move on.”

And again, Park Jihoon does have psychopathic tendencies, but he may be onto something here. So you listen to him as you nod along and close the cardboard box, ready to drive over to Mark Lee’s apartment and drop off the things you’ve collected from him for the past year. The box includes all of the clothes messily scattered across your drawers and your closet, the picture frame of you two together that you always had on your night stand, the ceramic bowls and a little tiger sculpture he made for you when he took a pottery class with his friend Renjun, and the lost guitar pics you found under your bed and at the very top of your bookshelf from when he used to bring his guitar along and play you songs on rainy afternoons. The only things of Mark’s that you kept were the love letter he gave you for your birthday and the USB with his cover of Justin Bieber’s Off my face on it that he shyly gifted to you on one of your dates; but you would never tell Jihoon that in fear of him getting rid of those most precious memories for you.

It’s good to let go, but you don’t think you’re wrong for wanting to keep something to remind you of the good times. The times you still felt loved by Mark.

“Off we go,” you say, standing up and bringing the box towards your front door, your best friend at your feet. He promised to drive you to Mark’s place– you think he’s worried about you meeting your ex-boyfriend face to face for the first time since the break up, but he said it’s because you’re too broke to Uber all the time, efficiently throwing all the considerate thoughts you were accrediting him out the window– and after a few minutes of the drive, you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Mark Lee's apartment.

Taking a deep breath in and out, almost chickening out with the flood of thoughts and excuses you could say to Jihoon when you come back to his car with the box still in your hands– sayings like “he wasn’t home” or “he didn’t want those back”, the latter stupider than the first– you decide to face your problems head-on and finally knock on the mahogany door, waiting for Mark to answer. And he does– of course he does, because he’s always home, and as his ex-girlfriend of one year, you're painfully aware of the fact– but when that happens, you feel your heart falling all the way down to your stomach, crushing you and suddenly making it hard for you to breathe.

“Um… hi,” he greets you, voice a little groggy, as if he hasn’t spoken in a while– and when you meet his eyes, the deep chocolate orbs you always found yourself admiring and writing silent odes to in your head, you quickly glance away in fear of staring into them for too long and making decisions you wouldn’t like to make.

“Hi,” you awkwardly greet back, clearing your throat and moving a little in your place, shifting the weight from one foot to the other. You're surprised you're able to keep up with the conversation, thoughts running in your brain faster than you can comprehend them, heartbeat ringing in your ears from the unexpected anxiety. Maybe Jihoon was right and you should've taken a shot before coming here– at least you'd have more courage and social skills clearly needed for this kind of interaction. “I… brought you back your things,” you say, finally looking up at the male and chewing on your lips, letting out an awkward, tense laugh when he stares at you with an empty look, “figured you’d want them back,” you add, watching as the male opens his mouth and closes it in what seems to be shock before he presses his lips tightly together and nods at you.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he watches you clumsily hold up the cardboard box to him, ready to leave his stuff there with him and escape as fast as you can, not really minding how you'll get back to Jihoon's car– if jumping down the window of the entrance hall is the fastest option, you're ready to get to it. The truth is, everything is starting to get a little too hard to bear– his familiar scent filling your nose, the hoodie he wore to your first date enveloping his figure, his messy hair reminding you of the many times you brushed your fingers through it in attempts to smooth it down. It’s only been two weeks since you last saw him, but it was starting to feel as if you forgot about him already and were now relearning all the things you once fell in love with again, looking at him in the same light, yet noticing him and all the small details a little bit differently. “Thanks, I… I actually, uh… I have your stuff here too, so if you want it back I’ll– I can just–”

“Y-yeah,” you nod, almost a little too eagerly, “that would be… cool,” you say, trying hard to ignore the fact that he had your stuff packed too, intending to give it to you, and the crashing reality that comes with it, telling you he was prepared to do this before you were and how it’s making you feel kind of shitty.

Mark moves further into the apartment, the sound of him dropping the box to the floor filling your ears before he’s back at the door in no time, a similar cardboard box in his hands that he offers to you with a tense smile on his face. “Wanted to bring it around so I had an excuse to see you, but you, uh… beat me to it, I guess…”

Looking at him as you take the box out of his hands, gaze as if to tell him not to say such words to you when you’re still so fragile to his effect, you only nod and mutter out a simple “Thanks,” before you turn on your heel and intend to take the stairs back down.

“I’ll… see you around, then?” Mark calls after you as you take the first step out– something about it making you feel like it’s the first step out of his life, in a way– and you only nod, because one, you truly don’t know how else to reply to this question, and two, you really, really don’t know if you’ll ever see him again, but you can't bring yourself to say it to his face. Somehow, it would feel like torture to admit it– and you're not prepared for that reality just yet.

Rushing outside and getting into Jihoon's car, you almost feel like you’re on the verge of breaking, and when the male asks you how it went as he’s reversing out of the parking lot, you only bid him a one-word reply before you look through the box on your way home, too impatient to stay back from the memories.

And Jihoon didn’t really think this one through, because the fact that you gave Mark back the things that reminded you of him meant that he did the same, and now all the things you brought along to Mark’s apartment were in the cardboard box, all stained with countless memories and feelings attached to each and every single thing. The artwork you made for him, the little heart-shaped keychain you gave him for his birthday, the plant you gave him that was now long dead and dried out– those were once your stuff, but all in this world with the intention of love being sent out through them to your now ex-lover, and the fact that they’re in your possession again instead of his is not making letting go of Mark any easier.

And maybe Mark was right and he truly was forgetful, because as you rummage through the contains of the box, while you find out your favorite blue socks are nowhere to be seen, surely still buried somewhere in the drawers of his closet, obliterated out of his memory, there’s a gray hoodie sitting at the bottom and it’s surely not yours– it’s his and it was always your favorite, and you always used to wear it at his place when you got cold or when you just really wanted to smell his cologne, and you suddenly don't know if it's presence in the box slipped his mind or if he truly left it there on purpose.

Couldn’t he forget about that too?

Step three – block his number.

The third step comes into place after you accidentally slip out to Jihoon about the phone call you get on a Friday night– more like two hours into Saturday already– and now, most of all, you must admit that your best friend might be right about his advice.

Your phone starts ringing at 2:11 AM, and while you weren’t sleeping– you’ve been having some trouble with dozing off without being overbeared with thoughts lately– the name flashing on your screen shocks you for more reasons than one.

Mark Lee calls you, three weeks after your breakup, in the middle of the night. You haven’t spoken since the time he gave you back your stuff, and even though you’ve done quite a bit of stalking on his social media, you have no news of him or his whereabouts. Naturally, a call from him in the middle of the night startles you and shakes you to the core. He has no reason to call you, so your brain does the math and concludes there must be an emergency– and god knows that even after being hurt by him, you could never ignore him and leave him hanging in a state of need.

So you pick up– with shaky hands and a raging heartbeat, expecting the worst. Listening to the other side of the line, you take a deep breath in and out, bracing yourself for the impact of the words you’re going to hear. The voice on the other side is laced with haziness and his tone is almost a little tired– worn out, even– when he finally greets you from wherever he is.

“Hi,” Mark says, and for a second, your heartbeat steadies itself and the world stops spinning– he sounds okay, and for a moment, you’re grateful to hear his voice.

Humming, as if to collect your thoughts, you clear your throat before you offer him an answer. “Hello,” you greet, “what’s- what’s up?”

“Just wanted to hear your voice,” he says, almost a little abruptly to your question. He doesn't overthink his answer and he doesn't give himself time to think if it's a good idea or not– he just blurts it out and now it's your problem to deal with, when it's there, out in the open. Your palms get sweaty and you start to lose feeling in your fingertips, making you take a few seconds to yourself to process the situation before you decide to finally answer to the strange sentence.

“It’s late, Mark,” you mumble, and you involuntarily wonder if the sentence doesn’t have double meaning– it's too late for anyone to call at this hour, and at the same time, it’s been weeks since your ex boyfriend lost the privilege of listening to your voice when he can’t sleep in the middle of the night whenever he feels like it– and it’s now too late to do anything about it or make it any easier to deal with.

“Shit, sorry,” he chuckles to himself, and you suddenly recognise the laziness in his voice to be the effect of his and his best friend Hyuck’s Friday endeavors; the sweet coating of his voice being the effect of none other than the momentary bliss that comes with the relaxation of his body and mind when he's high. “Didn’t realize,” he concludes, making you shake your head at him in disbelief– not really mattering that he can’t see you in the act.

“‘s okay,” you mumble– and in your perfect reality, you hang up the phone now. In your perfect reality, you connect it to your charger and close your eyes, calling it a night. You fall asleep with no thoughts rummaging through your brain and wake up in the morning to a new sunny day, ready to take on the responsibilities of what’s to come, having productive days ended with smiles and a hot dinner you make for yourself just because you feel like it. In your perfect reality, you protect your own heart. This is not your perfect reality, though– and that’s why you stay on the line, listening to Mark ramble on the other side of the phone, intoxicated and slightly out of it. You wonder if he’ll remember calling you when he wakes up tomorrow. You wonder if he’ll regret it, or if he’ll just shrug his shoulders at the fact and go on with his day, not really paying you much thought when he’s sober.

“I was with Hyuck just now,” he says, and you hear the rustling of his sheets on the other side of the line, making you wonder if he’s washed up and ready for bed, “and– and I remembered how we all used to hang out together, y’know… you with us all– you always clicked with my friends and it was so cool and stuff… and I realized, right, they’re not as funny when you’re not around… but anyways… Jeno’s girlfriend asked about you, ‘cause she didn’t know…and telling her felt so silly, ‘cause they all kept looking at me and I knew they were pitying me, but it was my fault in the first place–”

“Mark–”

“No, it’s true. And it’s cool, I don’t– I don’t blame you, or anything. I just… I dunno, I guess it got me wondering…”

The line goes silent on the other side, and you settle into your own bed, giving him time to continue. When he doesn’t say anything for a long time, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“You still there?”

“Yeah. How was your day?” he asks, tone of voice casual as ever, as if he’s forgotten about all the words he’s told you up until now– as if it’s not 2 AM and both of your hearts aren’t breaking at the sound of each other’s voice on the other side of the line.

“It… it was okay, I guess,” you say nonetheless, too hopeless to find a way to end the conversation before he does.

“That’s good to hear,” he says, sighing, “that’s… awesome. You still taking those yoga classes on Mondays?” he asks, and you snicker to yourself– because what kind of question even is that? Who asks that on a late night call, when there are more important things you two need to talk about?

“Yeah,” you lie, still. You haven’t been since the breakup.

“That’s great. Wouldn’t want you to… y’know,” he laughs to himself, “be too sad over this… ‘t was for the better, after all.”

You hear yourself hum– the noise way more stable than your actual words ever could be– and you find yourself feeling silly in the conversation, lying to your ex boyfriend through your teeth; because at the end of the day, you don’t want him to worry about you– because it seems to be the case that he is. And it’s stupid, because he hurt you and you shouldn’t care, maybe you should’ve even show him that you’re heartbroken and that he is the reason behind your pain and the way your life is falling apart, bit by bit, but you don’t find it in you to be so cold and heartless. At the end of the day, you still care about Mark and there’s nothing you could do about it. Turns out that breaking up with him doesn’t magically make the feelings go away– and you knew that, but now you have proof.

“What were you saying before, by the way? You… trailed off at the end,” you say, reminding him of his previous words.

“Oh, that,” he snickers into the microphone again, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he twists and turns in the sheets, “don’t worry about it. It was selfish of me.”

It was selfish of him to call in the first place. But you won’t tell him that.

“What was it?”

“It’s just… I was wondering if I lost you forever, y’know… if there was a chance we could ever…” he trails off again, but this time, you don’t bug him to complete it. You’re not stupid– you know the implication of his words. You’ve known him for a long time, after all– maybe you should’ve predicted this when you picked up the call.

“I mean…” you hum, “you didn’t lose me completely, if that’s– if that’s what’s keeping you up at night. We’re still friends, aren’t we?” you say, and in the corner of your brain, you can’t even believe the words yourself– but if it was selfish of him to call, you think it’s okay for you to selfishly fill both of you with empty promises, just for the sake of not breaking your heart even further.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “that’s– …I’m glad.”

The line’s silent after that, and you wonder if you two have used up the list of words to say to each other this time, if there’s truly no other answer at the end of this conversation. When the situation gets too much for you to bear, the heaviness finally settling on your shoulders and your chest, you finally find the courage to sniffle out a quiet goodbye.

“Good night, Mark.”

“G’night,” he drags out, mind still cloudy. “Love you,” spills out from his tongue, like a bad habit.

He ends the call before you get to say it back. Maybe that’s for the better.

And the truth is, you should’ve really listened to Park Jihoon and blocked Mark’s number after this encounter. But you didn’t– you’re too weak for Mark’s sweet words, finding yourself still hanging on to his saccharine voice and the muffled ramble he has reserved for you only every time he gets high and loses all self-control before calling you on Friday nights selfishly demanding your attention, somehow falling for him like a teenager over and over again despite promising yourself you're gonna move on for real now.

Step four – date someone new.

“So…” Jihoon starts one day, eyes glued to your skull like laser beams, the tone of his voice so incomprehensible you think he’s going to scold you for the actions of your previous days– even though you haven't told him about the midnight calls with Mark and so if he's not going through your phone, he has no way of knowing. Tense and nervous, still, knowing that the impact of his words could either heal you or cut you open like a knife– damn him for always being so brutally honest, no matter how soft his heart is for you– you smile at him with tight lips, crossing your arms on your chest in defense.

“So…?”

A nervous laugh almost escapes your throat. If Jihoon wasn’t suspicious of you before, he surely is now– or he just finds you strange by the way he furrows his brows at you and scans you up and down, taking a second for himself before he sighs and seemingly decides to drop the weird way you’re acting right now, shaking his head and focusing on the task at hand.

“I was thinking… my friend asked about you,” he says, nonchalantly looking down onto his hands and taking the dirt out from behind his nails, as if it’s not a big deal and he doesn’t even care that much. “Choi Hyunsuk from Biology, you know him– shabby haircut, kinda short, failed the class so he has to retake it this year…?”

“I think you’re forgetting the fact that the two of us have completely different majors, Hoonie,” you sweetly smile at him with irony, making him roll his eyes with a sigh before he tries again.

“The guy who ripped his pants at Xiao Dejun’s party last year?”

“Oh, that one! You should’ve said that earlier, of course I remember Choi Hyunsuk from your Biology class,” you nod hurriedly, the gears finally clicking in your brain.

“As if I wasn’t talking about him for the last few minutes–”

“Okay, and what about him?” you cut him off, already tired of his annoying tangent.

“I said he asked about you.”

“I heard that already,” you nod, looking at him with expecting eyes. “And?”

Jihoon stares at you, unblinking, as if you fell on your head and he’s trying to comprehend if you’re still here with him or if you got a concussion and need to be transferred into a hospital. When the contact of his eyes on your skin gets a bit too uncomfortable– you swear his looks could actually kill someone, if he tried enough– you furrow your brows at him in confusion and shake your head in disbelief.

“Why are you staring at me like that, Park Jihoon?”

“Just tryna see if you’re really that stupid or if you’re just pretending,” he mutters under his nose before he sighs again– his favorite activity whenever you’re around, it seems– and speaks up again, tone of voice reminding you of a kindergartener teacher trying to explain why it gets dark in the evening to a bunch of 4 year olds. “You know, when people ask about you, they are usually interested in you, as in, my friend Hyunsuk didn’t ask because you’re nice, but because you’re hot, if you know what I'm getting onto.”

“Oh,” you get out, eyes wide in concern and a little shaken-up, “well, that’s… nice of him, I guess.”

Jihoon only hums at you before he looks around himself and brings out the bag of chips that he left open by his right side only a few seconds ago, not really speaking more about the topic. It’s either he’s waiting for you to get what he’s hinting at, or he’s just waiting for you to get even more confused and ask him about it in a few seconds again– either way, he’s not the one doing more talking right now, because conversations with you, the most oblivious person he’s ever seen, are never productive if he goes too fast.

Chewing on the chips, his eyes go wide when you finally open your mouth and talk more about the topic at hand– just like he predicted. “Why are you telling me this?”

Your best friend swallows before he places the bag of chips back to its original place and turns his whole body so he’s facing you, speaking up again. “I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, you’d like to hang out with him. Like a date, before you ask– because I know you’re gonna ask– and why? – because, again, I know you’re gonna ask– because I simply think you should try to date again to get your mind off the loser you broke up with two months ago,” he says, blunt and honest, answering all of your unsaid questions at once, and before you know it, he has you snickering and shaking your head in disapproval.

“Absolutely not,” you retort, waving your hands in the air to only further show your disagreement with the proposition, “that would just be a massive catastrophe.”

“Why? Hyunsuk’s nice.”

“I didn’t say he isn’t, it’s just…”

“Just?” he probes you, eyebrows raised and questioning.

“I… don’t know,” you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek, aimlessly shrugging. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Jihoon.”

“Because of Mark?” he asks, and the moment his name escapes your best friend’s mouth, the whole room goes strangely quiet– you feel your heartbeat in your throat, the tips of your fingers start tingling and you swear that if you concentrate hard enough, you could feel a bead of sweat drip down your forehead with the incoming stress and nerves only the mention of your ex boyfriend brings you.

“No, that’s not it–”

“Sure,” he nods, sighing to himself– and there it is again, the judging look you so despise.

“You can’t just expect me to date other people a few weeks after my break up, Jihoon,” you exclaim, “that– that wouldn’t even be fair to your friend. You know I wouldn’t be invested,” you explain, and your friend rolls his eyes in frustration, sighing to himself.

“Oh but I know that! And Hyunsuk does too,” he shakes his head at you, “just thought the company of someone else could take your mind off things.”

“I have you,” you try.

“Yeah, but all we do when we’re together is mope about Mark Lee,” Jihoon snickers, “and don’t get me wrong, I’m more than open to bitch about your ex boyfriend and as your best friend, I don’t mind, but the fact that you’d be hanging out with someone else could take your mind off him, because you wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about him with someone else, y’know?”

You shut your eyes closed, a heavy sigh heaving out of your body as you try hard to concentrate and not lose it, and with how Jihoon’s tone gets softer and he’s not as loud with his brutal, yet logical advice, he must feel you getting overwhelmed and accommodates to your needs. “Look, it’s gonna be fun. I promise. Hang out with someone new, feel wanted and hot and pretty again, get some male attention that’s not your ex boyfriend, and you’ll see how it makes you feel. If you hate it, you hate it and you can slap me, I don’t know... If you don’t, you can keep dating around with my friends, and I swear I’ll hook you up only with the nice ones,” he takes your hand into his and waves it around in comfort, making you open your eyes and look at him again.

Seeing the softness and encouragement in your best friend’s eyes, you sigh to yourself. All this time, he’s tried to help you– what if you finally follow his advice? Who knows, it might even help.

Sighing, you squeeze his palm and hover over him to get the stranded bag of chips he’s guarding on the other side of the sofa. “Fine,” you mutter, “but let your friend know that he’s the one paying, okay?”

“Perfect. I'll text him your number, then.“

And maybe Jihoon was right and after dolling yourself up and dressing up in your favorite dress just so you would feel as comfortable as possible, you don’t feel as bad when his friend Hyunsuk picks you up in his white Volvo and chats with you on the way to the restaurant. He makes good small talk and even gets a giggle out of you, the music in his car is low and you find yourself slowly easing into the situation. You don’t remember when the last time you went out with a guy that wasn’t Mark was, but it’s surprisingly nice.

And Jihoon was right– you feel pretty. And when Hyunsuk opens the door for you after pulling up to the parking lot of the restaurant, you even feel wanted. You like the attention, just like any other girl would, and the smile you offer to your date seeps of tender shyness as you get out of the comfortable seat of his car.

The illusion, though, is soon broken as you notice the restaurant he pulled up to. Your smile freezes, your palms get sweaty and you feel your heartbeat rummaging against your ribcage as soon as the idle atmosphere of the restaurant opens up before you. And realistically, you could turn on your heel and get back to the car, tell Hyunsuk that you want to go to another restaurant– but you don’t do it, against your biggest wishes, because you worry that the boy already made a reservation and you don’t want to ruin an evening that’s going well so far.

“Everything alright?” your date checks up on you, seemingly noticing the frown on your face, and when his worried eyes meet yours, it’s sealed– you’d feel too bad for pulling out of the date now. So you only do what you always do best– you put on your best relaxed smile and nod, catching up to him and ensuring him that you’re all okay and you didn’t just talk yourself out of an anxiety attack.

Because you owe it to him and to Jihoon– both of them worked so hard to make you feel happy and help you to get over your ex boyfriend. It’s not Hyunsuk’s fault that he just managed to pick the restaurant your said ex boyfriend works at part-time. He had no way of knowing, and if you’re lucky enough, Mark wouldn’t be on today. He only works here part-time, it’s not like he’s here every day, and as far as you’re concerned, he only worked like two or three days a week when you dated. It would be a weird coincidence for him to be working the day you go there with your new date– you hope you’re not that unlucky.

Hyunsuk is a gentleman. Opening up doors for you, pulling out the chair for you, letting you talk and not interrupting you. He watches you with fond eyes and you almost try to feel bad for the fact that even if this ended well, the poor boy would just end up being a rebound. He deserves so much more, and you start to worry if this date was a good idea after all. Wasn’t it selfish of you to agree to this?

“What do you want to get?” he asks as you open up the menu, and you squint at the prices, mentally taking a note to order the cheapest thing just in case he wants to pay for you at the end of the evening.

“Spaghetti Bolognese,” you blurt out, despite it not being your favorite meal. Hyunsuk just stares at you with squinted eyes, but doesn’t disagree with you. After all, he has no way of knowing that you dislike the taste of the sauce in most restaurants– even though your conscience tells you that Mark knew that and always made sure to remind you about it before ordering for you, worried that you won’t get to eat much that evening– the only thing left to hope is that it tastes good in this particular place.

“Okay, sure,” he nods and puts the menu down, smiling at you before engaging in a comfortable conversation with you. It feels like you’ve known Hyunsuk forever– his personality oddly reminding you of Jihoon’s caused mainly by the fact that the two have grown up together. Everything flows soundly, but you still find yourself anxiously picking at your cuticles as you cautiously look around the restaurant, fearing the fact that you could catch a glimpse of your ex boyfriend at any second.

And maybe you should be a psychic, because those bad feelings were not there for nothing– when you see a waiter walking out of the back and eyeing your table, ready to get your order, the boy is a few inches taller than your current date, raven hair messy, but still a little styled, dark circles under the man’s eyes, and there he is– your ex boyfriend. Mark Lee halts in his movements, wearing his work uniform, eyes wide, a hint of something that breaks you at least in two mirroring in his orbs before he turns on his heel and disappears in the back again. When he doesn’t come back and his co-worker joins you and Hyunsuk at your table with a warm smile, you stop waiting to see the glimpse of him you selfishly desired to catch despite fearing the interaction the whole evening.

You want to fall through the floor and disappear in the depths of this earth. For some reason, you feel mortified. What would he think? And why do you even care about his feelings? A million different thoughts run through your brain and you worry that you’re being too distant from your current date, but Hyunsuk’s warm eyes reassure you that he doesn’t mind.

Piercing the food on your table with your eyes, you try to battle the noisy words running around your brain.

It’s easy to say you’re over someone when you don’t see them. To have them in front of you, meet their gaze and acknowledge their existence and still be able to nod and say that you’ve moved on, is something completely different.

Were you ever convinced that you were over Mark Lee in the first place, though?

After all of this– the months of following Jihoon’s advice, although making a few mishaps along the way as you continue to pick up Mark’s calls on Friday nights, snoop around his socials and let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t, overthinking everything and making you wish the relationship never ended in the first place– it’s time for the last step of it all. The last, most crucial part of this whole moving on process– the most important one, if you may.

Step five – avoid him at all costs.

Sounds easy, right? After the four previous steps, you’d already cried plenty about the lost months with your ex-boyfriend. You’d already given him back all of his stuff, not tying yourself to him with any material memory. You’d already gone on a date with someone new, choosing to distract yourself instead of letting yourself feel the emotions. After all the previous steps, this one’s supposed to be the easiest one. The one you’re supposed to want to do, after all. The break-up wasn’t messy, but it was still painful– it’s only natural for you to not want to see Mark ever again, right?

Wrong.

Because you never listen to the advice you’re given. That just wouldn’t be you, would it?

And so when Mark Lee calls you one day and tells you that he has a free train ticket to the Bukhansan stop, explaining that he was supposed to go hike there with Donghyuck who canceled on him last minute because of an assignment due midnight, you don’t really hesitate much before you shoot him a short text saying that you’re down and get ready for the short hike.

When you meet your ex boyfriend at the station, his figure slightly slouched up until the moment his eyes meet yours, you feel the quiet tension in the air. You’ve seen each other a few times before this meeting– on a party you went to with Jihoon, at the campus when you went to class one morning, your ex boyfriend walking you towards the Art building, hell, you’ve even met in the grocery store, all accidental and making your heart leap in your chest with tension. This time, though, you’re here completely intentionally, just to hang out with him, and something about the fact makes a dull pain shoot all through your intestines, a sensation so uncomfortable you try to hide with a tight-lipped smile.

“Ready for the hike?” he asks, adjusting the bag on his back, playing with the straps with clammy fingers. You can’t help but notice how he looks just like a little boy, in his little world, shielded from everything. He seems to have taken a protective stance, and you hate how the air between you shifted from how you two used to be when you were dating. Mark seems scared. Nervous. On top of his feet. Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to this at all.

You’re already here, though. Turning around and leaving wouldn’t really work right now, as you take a step towards the train that’s just arrived, humming to your ex boyfriend in agreement. Taking a seat on the place Mark’s pointed to you on the train ticket, you try to loosen up your muscles and get as comfortable as you can, clearing your mind as you gaze outside of the window.

“How have you been?” he asks, clearing his throat.

Pressing your lips into a tight line, you turn to him as you search for an answer. “Better,” you nod, voice quiet. “You?”

Mark hums, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Good, good,” he lies through his teeth, “I’ve seen you at the restaurant the other day,” he hints, and you battle the sigh that’s begging to cut out of your throat. You don’t know where he’s going with the sentence. It’s not a question– only a proposition, barely even that– and you could ignore it with a nod of your head, you could pay it no mind as you see the bitterness in his gaze and the slightly self-conscious averting of his stare. You don’t know where he’s going with the conversation, but frankly, you don’t know where you are going with your answer either, as you shrug to him in a casual manner and peep under your breath.

“Yeah,” you say, “that was just… Jihoon’s friend from uni, I suppose,” you complete, and the sentence hints at nothing– it doesn’t clear out the confusion, it doesn’t outright say anything that could make Mark believe that it was just a casual hang-out with a friend, but still, you see the boy visibly relax as he nods to you and offers you a tight-lipped smile.

“Oh,” he hums, looking out of the window, past the profile of your face. The change in topic is sudden and sharp, but also welcome as he falls into a casual conversation with you, and suddenly, you’re reminded by the Mark you once knew– the guy you’ve once called not socially awkward, but so social that it’s awkward– as he talks to you about his day and rambles on about the weather. “It’s good that it won’t rain today, I bet the view will be nice.”

Locking your gaze with him for a brief second, you lick your lips and point your eyes towards the ground. It’s good that it won’t rain today, as opposed to last time you two went to the Bukhansan trail. You wonder if he remembers.

Before you have a chance to mention it– and in all reality, you won’t, no matter how bold you could be feeling at the moment– the train comes to a stop at your station and you hop out of the carriage, ready for the hike.

It’s easy to forget how messed up things have gotten between the two of you when you walk alongside with your ex boyfriend, laughing at his silly jokes and gasping at everything he shows to you with a pointed finger, finding yourself admiring the sound of his giggle when he spots a squirrel pass your path somewhere near the top of the hill. The trail is almost empty at this hour, since the two of you have decided to go in the late afternoon, and you find your soul to finally be at peace after so many weeks, you finally feel relaxed in the nature, one with the wind and the gentle sound of birds chirping lullying your running thoughts to a rest.

You realize that this is just what you needed all this time. You needed to get out and walk for some while, to tune out yourself and to accept the fact that you’re still here, for another day, and something about that is still a blessing. Watching the back of Mark’s head as he walks a step in front of you due to the narrowness of the trail in this area, you smile to yourself. It’s easy to forget just how much you were hurt by him when he heals your soul with such a simple gesture. It’s easy to forget you were hurt when he seemingly tries to put all the broken pieces back together, glue them to where they were in the first place, when things were easier and you both didn’t have so many things to worry about.

You reach the top just as the sun starts setting over the horizon, and there are only a few people scattered across the peak, sitting on their own picnic blankets and gazing into the distance. The hues of the sky paint the world in a different color, the oranges, pinks and muted purples playing with your heartstrings as you come to a halt and crouch down and feel the presence of another soul mirror your actions only a meter away to your right, his gaze glued to your side. The view is beautiful, but the feeling of being watched isn’t ignorable anymore, and so you turn to your companion and raise your eyebrows at him, wondering if he has something to say.

You don’t know how you’ll be able to come back to your life after this and pretend you still don’t want to spend every passing second with the man on your right. You don’t know how you’re supposed to ignore the ever so growing love for him– even though after being so disappointed with the past, the feelings should be decreasing, not doing the opposite– and frankly, you don’t even want to think of going back to the way it’s been for the past few months. And so you don’t– you allow yourself to indulge the moment, to ignore the pain that’s about to come, just so you could hold another beautiful memory to your heart and enjoy the moment before it hurts you to think of it tomorrow morning.

“It’s even more beautiful than the last time,” Mark hums, but his eyes never leave your figure– if you were still dating, you bet he’d come out with a cheesy line about how you’re prettier than the view, or something. “It didn’t rain this time around, thank god.”

Gazing at him, you shake your head in disbelief. Scoffing, you play with the grass between your fingers. “You remember that?”

“Yeah,” he hums, “I remember a lot of things.”

The sentence makes you bitterly chuckle. He knows why you’re reacting the way you are– and you have every right to. He claims to remember a lot of things, but the ones important to you, the ones you wanted him to remember, he failed to save into his memory. And that’s eventually what made you break up with him, at the end of it all.

At your reaction, he sighs and drags a hand across his face, seemingly realizing the weight of his own words and just how ridiculous he must have sounded to you right now.

“I- That-” he stutters, shaking his head, “that sounded stupid right now, considering… everything… Didn’t it?”

“Kind of,” you nod, not wanting to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, voice suddenly raw and serious, so different to the tone he’s been using with you the whole afternoon, “I don’t- I can’t remember if I said that back then, when you- when you… broke up with me, but I really am sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve that, and I am in no way shape or form trying to make this about me, but I hate myself every day for the way things turned out and if I could go back to that day, I’d do so many things differently.”

The sky in front of you deepens in reds and you taste iron on your tongue, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you’ve managed to bite on your lip too hard in the midst of the conversation. Tearing out stems of grass with your clammy fingertips, you focus on the clouds running through the sky, calculating your next response.

“Okay,” you nod, not giving him much else. The answer perfectly encapsulates the way you feel on the inside right now– you don’t know if you’re ready to accept his apology, if you’re ready to let go of it and act like you weren’t hurt or that none of it ever happened, but you listened to him and you internalized his words. He is sorry. He knows he was in the wrong. And you were aware that he knew all of this before– hell, you’d even go as far as say he knew it the moment you knocked on his door that day and told him it was over– but hearing it from him surely moved something inside of you to a more comfortable place.

“I-” he starts, voice breaking making him clear his throat before he continues, “I don’t expect you to forgive me. And I know I shouldn’t have expected you to still be my friend after all of this, and that- I shouldn’t have even called you so many times and approached you at the store and stuff, but um-” he mumbles, shrugging to himself, “I guess I just couldn’t stay away from you. And again, I don’t expect you to forgive me, I don’t expect you to do anything, really. So… yeah…”

Snickering at his aimless monologue, you shake your head in disbelief. “Mark?”

“Yeah?” he stares at you, eyes a bottomless pool of emotion.

“Why did you invite me here today? What was the… point, I guess?” you ask, hugging your knees to your chest as the breeze makes goosebumps appear all over your body.

Mark offers you a sad smile, head leaned to his right as he shrugs, and this time, his eyes don’t leave yours as he spills the truth into the air. “I guess I was just feeling selfish today,” he hums, and the sentence makes you cringe with the memory of his first call to you after your break up, “wanted to spend time with you.”

“Here, of all places?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “told you. I was feeling selfish.”

Snickering, you look away, staring at the sky again. The colors are starting to blend together into a deep, dark purple– the horizon darkening as the sun starts to say its final goodbyes to the day. You sigh to yourself, yet feel no bitterness or terror at his words. Somehow, you understand. Somehow, you get him a little too well. Somehow, you think you knew the moment he texted you today, and somehow, you think you felt it in your bones when you didn’t say no, although you could have. There’s calmness in your soul when you nod at the implication of his words, leaning back on your elbows and plopping your bottom to the ground, sitting at the dusty surface.

“You said you didn’t expect anything out of me today, Mark.”

“And I don’t,” he says, voice soft.

“And you brought me here to remind me of the last time we went?” you stare at him, a hint of a bitten-back smile playing with your lips. “Because you’re selfish?”

He nods, not escaping your gaze. “To remind you of the last time we went. To show you that… I remember, I guess. And that I still care, just like the last time. If not more.”

“Mark, you can’t just say all of this and expect nothing out of me right now,” you mutter.

“Actually, I can. Because that’s what I’m doing. I’m just… laying it out in the open, and what you do with the information is completely, completely up to you,” he explains, and you find yourself chuckling at him, the atmosphere instantly lighter as you hear his voice in its usual casualness, talking to you as if he was just unpacking what went on in class today, and not the starting and the end of your one year relationship.

And he’s right. What you do with the information is completely up to you, and the next steps and the progress of your relationship with Mark Lee is also completely in your hands. You could turn away and never talk to him again, you could curse at him and tell him that it’s too late now and he missed his chance, but if that was the case, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. He wouldn’t be inviting you to this place, lying about his roommate canceling just to trick you into going, and you wouldn’t be blindly accepting the invitation, wanting to see where the afternoon brings you.

“So you still care about me?” you hum, looking at him from under your eyelashes, noticing his slouched-over pose as he looks back at you over his shoulder.

“Always have,” he admits, “never stopped. Despite not really… acting like it in the past few months.”

“Why’d you stop acting like it, then?” you ask.

A sigh escapes his lips, his head turning forward before he leans back and sits cross-legged on the ground, more comfortably now. Shrugging, he answers the question. “I guess I just got too caught up with different things. And don’t get me wrong, you were always my priority, always, but I was all over the place with everything and my mind just couldn’t… there were too many things to keep up with and I couldn’t stay up to date with everything,” he says, “and I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s an explanation, and it doesn’t make it better or undo the pain I’ve caused you, but it’s… at least you know it was never because I’d care about you any less.”

His eyes bear into yours with such honesty you think the weight of the world will crash on you any minute, and suddenly, the whole situation seems so much clearer.

And you wouldn’t take it back, you wouldn’t undo the breakup or do anything differently, because at the end of the day, you think it was needed. Perhaps the time apart was what he needed as a wake up call and what you needed to shield yourself from hurting more.

“Stop me from saying it if you… if you don’t want to hear it right now,” he hums, voice barely louder than a whisper. There seems to be a silent communication between the two of you, a connection of some sort that brings out the strange telepathy, but you just nod at him, a gentle smile playing with your lips as you understand exactly what he means, telling him that it’s okay and that you don’t mind– you welcome, you need to hear him say it again.

Licking his lips, he turns to you fully, facing you. There’s not a hint of nervousness in his body, having done this a lot of times before, and then it happens– the repeated confession, confirming what was there the whole time, never leaving even when the times were rough.

“I love you,” he says.

And isn’t that all that’s needed?

A year is a long time with someone. Somehow, you wouldn’t want the time to go to waste. At the end of the day, if love is still present, isn’t it worth trying? One more time?

“And you still don’t expect anything from me?” you ask, gazing at him softly. “You don’t expect me to say it back?”

“No,” he breathes out, shrugging. “I just needed to get it off my chest.”

“Because you’re selfish like that,” you nod, teasing him.

“Because I’m selfish like that,” he agrees, breaking out into a slight grin.

Looking at the sky, now completely dipped in dark purple, you sigh to yourself at the turmoil of the conversation. You don’t say it back– although you feel it, you know it’s in there, playing with your heartstrings and clenching the muscle in the palm of its hand– you know love is there, deep inside, for the man that’s currently staring at you as if you hung the very stars appearing on the sky there yourself, stolen them from your own eyes and gluing them there selflessly, for everyone to see. You don’t tell him you love him back, you don’t tell him you forgive him or accept his apology. You don’t worry about what tomorrow will bring you, what your brain is going to tell you when you come down from the hill and get home, lay in your bed and overthink. You let the worries escape you, letting fondness and calm envelope you in a tight hug instead.

“Okay,” you nod, watching the boy next to you look at you with curious eyes. You take his hand into yours and place it on your thigh, playing with his fingers for a heartbeat before you meet his eyes again and smile. “I won’t say it back, but for all it’s worth, Mark… I’m glad you remembered.”

And that’s all he needs– there is love, there is fondness, and there is the silent confirmation that all you need right now is just a bit more time.

Where do broken hearts go?

Somehow, you think they hold on to the place where it all started. Somehow, you think your heart never went anywhere– it stayed on this hill, waiting for you to pay it a visit and pick back up everything right from where you left it.

“It doesn’t seem like a good idea to go here today, Y/N,” Mark laughed behind you as he looked up to the sky, the dark clouds shielding the sun that had been previously shining down on your hiking figures, casting an orange glow on the strands of your hair.

“Well, there’s no turning back now,” you shrugged, turning to him and grinning as you tugged on his hand, grip strong as you dragged the boy up the trail, your sneakers fast against the dirty ground. “We have finals starting next week and it’s gonna be too cold to go after the exam season is over, so we gotta go now.”

“I kind of regret telling you that I’ve never been here before now,” Mark sighed, but followed you nonetheless, breathlessly following your excited stride. It was October, the leaves on the trees were welcoming the two of you in shining colors, and the wind kissing your skin turned a bit chilly in the evenings– courtesy of the warm hoodie Mark shyly lended you when you shivered for the first time, adoring the way you, his friend, looked in the light gray fabric. Something about you wearing his clothes made the boy a bit hopeless about the day. Maybe he’ll have enough courage to confess his feelings to you, he thought. Maybe, despite the first raindrops falling on the skin of his bare arms, this evening will have a happy ending for you and him.

“Oh, please,” you squinted at him, continuing to run up the hill– thank god it wasn’t that steep, serving both of you as the perfect hiking difficulty, “even if you wouldn’t have, I’d drag you here anyway. It’s like, my favorite place to go in Seoul, haven’t I told you before?”

You have, Mark thought. But he was okay with hearing it again.

You squealed when the raindrops got heavier and the rain started pouring faster on the two of you, and Mark found himself laughing at your running figure. He was right behind you, praying that you don’t slip on one of the rocks and break your leg on the hiking trail, but he encouraged you with sweet comments and a hand on the small of your back as he watched the tip of the hill appear right in front of his very eyes, your body coming to a satisfied halt when you reached your destination.

“Tada!” you grinned at him, twirling a little like a ballerina, showing him the place with outstretched arms. He tried hard to observe the place, but his eyes stayed glued to your excited figure, gaze bearing into yours as you looked at him, amidst a little flustered, with sparkly orbs and a bright smile on your face. Your hair was a mess, his gray hoodie enveloping your body was slowly growing darker in color from absorbing the rain, and your sneakers were getting a bit muddy from walking around the place. He wanted to remember this moment forever, he thought– this version of you, the smiley expression on your face, the carefree and excited nature of your step.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” you exclaimed, jumping around and nearing the boy, but as you went to take his hand to drag him around the top of the hill once more, your feet slipped and you fell forward, a surprised squeak battling its way out of your throat.

Your whole life flashed in front of your very eyes in that moment, embarrassment spreading down your neck at the fact that you were about to fall face first onto the ground in front of your crush of a few months, before your body collided with a soft, yet firm mass engulfing you closer. A pair of strong arms steadied you against his chest, and when you looked up at your friend, you swear all words were taken out of your dictionary, the sight leaving you speechless.

“It is,” he gaped, eyes bearing into yours. Mark was agreeing with you, but something in the back of your head was telling you that he didn’t really admire this place as much as you did– his curious gaze was always plastered somewhere completely else.

That place being your face, of course. And your eyes, your cheeks, the mess of your bangs, and occasionally– screw that, almost always– your lips. Much like in that moment, a few centimeters away from his face, so inviting he thought it would be a crime to contain the urge.

And so he didn’t– he didn’t control his feelings and the ever-so growing yearning for you, as he silently leaned towards your face and captured his lips with yours in a firm, yet short kiss.

He looked at you with a nervous tint behind his gaze when he leaned away, the sight of your wide eyes staring at him making a slight flush grow on his cheeks. You looked so beautiful in that moment– flustered, surprised, with messy hair and lips still apart– and he was relieved to not find a hint of a displeased emotion in your expression.

“Okay, so- well-” you stuttered, laughing to yourself, “this didn’t go as I planned, but I guess I’m happy as long as the final result is the same,” you hummed, standing on your tippy-toes and pressing your lips against him once more, this time letting yourself enjoy the moment fully, mouth moving against his in a careful, yet excited rhythm. He tasted like the strawberry candy you offered him on the bottom of the trail and smelled a bit like rain, the mixture always staying in the depths of your mind as his warmth enveloped you in comfort and a feeling of home.

“The final result being…?” he asked when you pulled apart once again, a dazed expression overtaking his sharp features.

“Us,” you shrugged, “like this,” you clarified.

Mark laughed at that, hugging you closer to his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, listening to the sound of raindrops washing away the top layer of dirt off the rocks on the tip of the hill, hands sneaking around his waist and enjoying the way they wrapped around him so tightly and so comfortably. You in his hoodie, in your favorite place, standing in his arms. It was raining, but it didn’t matter.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“If we ever get lost, or something happens… bring me back here, okay?” you mumbled close to his ear, lips gently glazing the skin of his ear, making goosebumps appear all over your new lover. “I’m convinced that this place could fix everything.”

“Even us?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not allowed to ever leave me now, what would there be to fix between us?” you smacked his shoulder, snickering to yourself.

“You never know,” he laughed, “what if I accidentally mess up somewhere along the way?” he asked, threading his fingers through your hair, smoothing down the wet mess.

“Okay then,” you hummed, “even us.”

Staring into your eyes, letting the moment play out by itself, Mark swore he’s never felt more at peace. He wondered if it was the effect of the place, the rain, or just your sheer presence. “I’ll remember that,” he giggled before he let go of your body, petting your head as he took a hold of your hand, tugging you down from where you came from, “now let’s go home before we catch a cold.”

Nodding, following the man as you both carefully, yet fastly made it down the trail, you enjoyed the way his hand fit into yours and the way you knew that after this, you can’t ever come back to being friends with Mark Lee. He was all yours, completely, utterly yours, and you knew in the back of your head, that you were his– and nothing will ever change that.

You would always come back to the hill with him. It felt ridiculous to think about you two ever having to fix anything between the two of you back then, but even in that moment, you knew that for him, you’d keep trying. As long as he does– as long as he remembers.

Where do broken hearts go? You guess they always come right back to the place they come from– and they leave glued back together every single time.

You guess your heart never really left the hill.

1K notes · View notes

wonuwonder · 4 months

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can i request something cute and full of kisses while cuddling with seokmin on the couch please and thank you 🥹

an: your mind anon>> i was literally thinking about posting a drabble about cuddly seokmin🥺 tysm for requesting!! hope this isn’t too short or cheesy😭

content: pure fluff, fem reader x seokmin, established relationship, just cuddling and snuggling with seokmin, clingy baby just wants to kiss you and hold you. 0.8k words

cuddles & kisses - lee seokmin

you were laying on the couch reading a book with the tv on at the back keeping you company, it was a quiet evening, you hadn’t done much the whole day, just ran errands with your boyfriend Seokmin, walked in the park for a bit and got home quickly before it started to rain.

“hey whatcha doing?” he asks cutely, entering the living room, he gets close to the couch and grabs your book, making you look up at him, he puts the bookmarker in place and closes it “i want cuddles, i’m cold” he whines, pouting.

you open up the blanket and gesture for him to join you at the couch, he lays in between your legs, his back facing the ceiling, resting his head in your chest, he scoots closer to you as you start playing with his hair, while he caresses the sides of your tummy under your t-shirt. he hums everytime you pull his hair, he loved it.

“i missed this min” you say softly, hugging him tightly and kiss the tip of his nose “you spend so much time overseas or with your tight schedules these days, it feels like we don’t have time to enjoy each other’s presence” he looks up at you and pouts at your confession, he brushes the hair out of your face and stares at you delicately, his tired brown eyes glistening with adoration, he’s about to start speaking but you cut him off before he can start, “and i’m not blaming you or complaining, I know it doesn’t depend on you, and that you’re doing your best, i just” —you sigh “wanted to tell you how i felt i guess”

he tugs you against him, turning you and him to your sides, so you can stare at him and lay before each other on the couch. he places his hand on your cheek and brushes his thumb against your skin, you close your eyes enjoying the feeling. he reaches for you, and kisses you softly, taking his time to taste your lips, when he pulls back, he grabs your waist and scoots you closer to him, snuggling you.

“i missed this too, so much” he confesses, and looks at you with tired eyes “i wish we could be together all the time” your faces were so close together you could see your reflection in his big dark eyes, the intimacy felt so comfortable, you wish you would never have to separate.

you lean closer and brush your lips against his, and then close the tiny gap between you both, capturing your lips again, he presses his against yours harder, and you deepend the kiss by parting your lips for his tongue to get in, but still being soft and gentle with the way your lips move against each other. when he pulls back slowly after a while of just enjoying each other’s kisses, he leaves a little peck on your lips before hiding his head in your neck, hugging you tightly.

he leaves wet kisses all over your neck making you tickle, as you scratch his back softly under his t-shirt, he hums at every scratch and caresses your tummy, he finds your belly button and fiddles with it, making you laugh, he leans closer again and starts kissing you once again, this time more chaotically, as he was laughing against your lips, leaving peck kisses all over your face “I-“ he starts, and kisses your nose, “love” another kiss, on your cheek “you” he ends with a kiss on your lips, pressing his lips tightly, pulling back with the biggest smile on his face. you grab his cheek and reply “i love you too”.

you cuddle and kiss for hours, stopping only to look at each other like idiots “your lips have gone all red” you tell him, caressing his big plump lips with your thumb, he bites it softly, making you both laugh, “i canbg’t geth engbough of youlr lips” he says struggling to talk with your thumb between his teeth, you both laugh until your stomachs hurt at his jokes, like always.

you spend the whole evening like that, enjoying each other cuddles, snuggling and hiding on each others bodies, talking about anything and everything, cherishing every little moment in each other’s company.

you fall asleep before seokmin does, lying on his big chest, he takes his time admiring every bit of your face, counting every freckle and every mole on your skin, trying to remember all your details. he eventually falls asleep too, hugging you from behind, locking his arms around your waist, thinking to himself, how lucky he was to be with you.

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90ekz · 4 months

Note

do you think you could write hcs of jean with a softspoken gf? nobody writes for him fr it’s so sad

an! i love jean and this concept anon ! im a soft spoken girl myself so this really hits home 🥹 i hope you enjoy!!

jean as your boyfriend <3

SFW

when you two first started dated, jean was convinced that he hit the lottery. you were everything he ever wanted and he loved a girl that kept to herself.

jean sometimes takes you to wing houses & burger joints and watches with a huge smile as you try to order your food against the chaos of the other people conversing around you. you weren’t the biggest fan of having to yell in public, but you tried your best, and his heart melts everytime.

when you first met him at connie’s house warming party, you bumped into him, spilling the contents of your cup onto his white button up. jean had turned beet red as you stood on your tippy toes to whisper a hurried apology into his ear over the sound of the blaring music, while rushing to go get paper towels.

his favorite thing about you is how attentively you listen. it doesn’t matter what he’s talking about, you’ll be making eye contact and nodding along to whatever he has to say.

gets irritated with you during arguments, because you well… don’t engage. he could be giving a verbal, ten page, double spaced paper about how irritated he is with you, and you’ll just look at him like you’re bored.

“all i’m saying is that you don’t have to get aggressive with me over this. yes, i was at armin’s late and didn’t say anything, but i’ll tell you next time, okay? i’m sorry.” “okay.” “i said sorry, damn! stop yelling!”

you aren’t the biggest fan of confrontation, but he is. connect the dots yourself.

“SHE SAID NO GODDAMN TOMATO!” “it’s fine, i can just take them off—“ “not now, baby. gimme a sec, okay? anyway, FIX HER FUCKING BURGER!”

the two of you communicate so silently that it freaks your friends the hell out. when you want to go home, when you’re tired, when he’s needy, when he’s irritated? easy, simple eye contact will send you or him springing into action to fix the problem.

you may be quiet, but you love to laugh. jean doesn’t think he can think of anything more angelic-sounding than the sound of your genuine laughter, only for him.

jean had to learn how to be more tender when doing daily tasks. he was so used to slamming doors and stomping up stairs that he didn’t remember to adjust that behavior when you moved in.

(the first week you moved in, he’d thrown open the door to your bedroom and felt his chest squeeze as you almost tumbled out of your desk chair. now he puts three gentle taps on every door when he needs to come in.)

physical touch fanatic. end of discussion.

NSFW

lemme tell you, this man takes it to heart when you try to hold in your moans. you’re a little embarrassed with how loud you get, but nothing turns jean on more.

“nuh uh, lemme hear you—need to hear how good i’m making you feel, princess..”

during your first time together, he’d almost cum in his pants at the mere sound of your loud groans bouncing off the walls.

loves when you pull his hair more than anything. he takes it as a sign to go harder, fuck you deeper, and he obliges everytime. his cock throbs harder each time you run your fingers through his loose curls.

about 5.7 inches roughly, but thick. his cock flares as it goes downward; the head being the slimmest part. giving him head is fun, you think.

jean has this weird little fixation with your neck. it doesn’t matter what position he has you in, he’ll have a hand—or his mouth—running across the skin of your throat. backshots? he’s got a hand pressing against your nape to keep you in place. missionary? he’s massaging his thumb over your throat so tenderly that it should be illegal. cowgirl? he’s squeezing the sides of your neck while whispering about how good of a girl you’re being for him. he’s pretty damn weird.

his favorite thing to do is eat you out. you deny it, but your voice shoots up a whole octave when he massages your gspot with his two fingers of choice as he suckles on your swollen clit.

utterly surprised at how much you talk during sex. it almost embarrasses him how much you beg, scream, and whine for him. a mixture of ‘please’s’ and ‘fuck’s being infused in his head for eternity.

“oouu—shit, you’re so fucking loud…”

presses down on your stomach to feel where he is so he can try and go deeper… yeah.

tries to fuck your throat hoarse just to hear your raspy voice for a few hours. you’re such a trooper, just sitting there and taking it for him, even if he laughs at you after.

“babe, i’m so sorry—hahaha!” “this isn’t funny, i sound like t-pain!” “I LIKE THE BARRRTENDERRR—ouch, im sorry, i said i’m sorry!”

aftercare god. he’ll spend hours taking care of you, washing your back in the tub, greasing your scalp, making you tea and cookies, the whole nine. this man loves you deep.

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kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months

Note

God the idea of Simon having a s/o that's like wayyy shorter than him something like 5'5 is doing things to me. This man is 6'4 something and he's HUGEEE AF, like i think it would be a turn on for him, having his babe so small underneath him. And i don't even need to get into how probably big he is down there too? The struggle to take him in everytime but the afterwards is a pure bliss. Ugh.

Like, i agree with what you said, this man is an epitome of masculinity. And the need and want to take care, love and protect his mate. <3 <3

Mmm. Mmmm.

Ok I'm just gonna leave this here.

Original photo: @ S0CIALHUNTER on Twitter

This is not a Drill

Word count: 2.2 k

Tags/warnings: SMUT 🔞, a dash of fluff, size kink (obviously), size difference, swearing, premature ejaculation, penetrative sex toy. F!Reader.

A/N: Gaahh. No poetry this time. Just pure filth. Enjoy 🍽

This might just be one of your better ideas.

You've done this in secret for two weeks now, hoping by the time he arrives, you'll be able to surprise him with how well you've trained yourself to receive him.

If you can take a large toy so well, day after day, it should help with taking him in more easily too. Right?

As in, take in the biggest dick you've ever had and, god willing, will ever have.

You're actually quite proud of yourself. Not only does this thing keep you juicy, but it also makes you thirst for him even more. The need to have something even bigger inside you, the knowledge that he can provide that bigger thing, makes your lips purse, makes your walls throb as you remind yourself that tomorrow, your man will finally come home.

…Except that the stealthy fucker has chosen to arrive a day early. You don't even hear him before he's at your bedroom door. Fuck his profession, fuck all that experience in sneaking around, even with all that mass…

He comes in just in time to see how the said dong comes out, slick with your wetness.

Oh shit–

"Well. What do we have here?"

He looks at the brutal object in your hand, then raises his eyes to you – flustered you, lying all naked and throbbing and flushed on the bed. He can barely hold back a smile, but it's his eyes that laugh with an amused gleam.

"Careful or you'll hurt yourself with that thing."

That's some cheese coming from someone who's even bigger than the crude thing in your hand…

"You said you'd come tomorrow," you mewl as your excuse. He cocks his head a little, raises an eyebrow.

"Disappointed?"

"No, of course not, but–"

"You want help with that?"

He gives a side eye to the toy still in your hand. You blink a few times, then reach to set it somewhere, anywhere – the bedside table has to do, but you're too clumsy, and the toy drops to the floor and rolls at his feet.

Jesus, could things get any more embarrassing?

He examines the sorry thing with a stare that says How pathetic. Because even if to you, it's gigantic, it's nothing compared to what he's got in those pants. And he knows it too.

"Now ain't this convenient. I can go straight in, right?"

"I– I'm not sure," you breathe with anticipation.

"Let's give it a try then."

He doesn't even wait for your admission, which would only be a blaring, blazing Yes please sir. He doesn't trouble himself with undressing, merely crawls to the bed and over you.

He pulls back only to get himself out of those jeans, and it always looks like he's drawing out a massive weapon. Even in his hands, which are fucking huge, the cock looks like an oversized beast. He's fully hard, too, probably started to gather blood there the minute he saw you on that bed, puny and shy and caught red-handed.

And he's as impatient as can be: finally, there's a chance he can drive that cock right in, that he doesn't have to warm you up for half an hour with mouth and fingers and hear you cry when it still takes a few tears and some swearing as he guides it inside.

But the toys are no help, it seems. The massive head of his cock disappears in you, alright… But that doesn't mean it feels safe or sound.

"Oh, no. No, no."

He halts, hovering over you with just the tip inside, pulsing wildly.

"No?"

Ugh, why did you have to pick the biggest colossus of a man to be your fuck buddy for the rest of your life?

"Just… slowly, ok?"

"Yeah. Yeah."

He swallows and gets back to it, more slowly this time, and the spread is delicious – but it's also blinding, and you always have to remind yourself to keep breathing.

You just need to relax; it can fit, it has been there dozens of times before…

"Fuck, you're– you're even tighter down here," he groans with a dry throat and a heavy accent that makes you instantly clench around him.

It appears that you have only managed to train your inner muscles with that ridiculous dildo.

So much for trying to coax yourself open with toys…

He feeds more of that thickness in, in, in, until his balls make contact; they press against your flesh while your pussy hugs him with a perfect O shape. You bite your lip and hold your breath, and you're not the only one gaping at the scene in mild shock and admiration.

"Look at that…"

He doesn't even bother to tone down the drunken arousal in his voice which always drops down a few notes when he's fucking you. But every now and then, it's tinged with concern. How the hell can you even take him fully in?

He glances your way with the smallest smile playing at the corner of his mouth, muscles taut with anticipation. The man simply can't wait to ruin you.

"You ready?"

No…??

You give him a frail little nod and some high-pitched, broken whimpers from your mouth.

"Uh-huh?"

He chuckles, then withdraws, slowly… But the next thrust is not that gentle, and your brows knit together in pleasure and pain. Well, it's not exactly pain, just… It's a little too much. If the angle was even slightly off, it would hurt. The wetness no doubt helps this business, but you still find your teeth sinking into your lower lip again – he starts to roll his hips, fuck you with experimental thrusts that, blessedly, don't plunge too deep.

You feel your inner walls both accommodate him and tighten around him; greedy, like it's no problem at all to have far too big a shaft stuffed down there. And not just crammed, but plowing: back and forth like you're a toy, too.

"What in the bloody hell have you been doing…"

He detects the tense muscles that pull him in every time he reaches the base. You're too small for him; that fact was established long ago. But added with the clenching and throbbing pulse of your cunt, a fervor that tries to suck him like he's a fat stick of candy cane makes his jaw gradually fall open. The man looks like he's going to pass out.

"Were you doing that shit for me?"

You smile and flutter your lashes innocently, all the while a giant is trying to work his giant cock in you.

"Yup. Welcome home, I guess?"

He looks at you, not with mirth, but with reproof. You're playing with fire, toying with a sharp blade, and teasing a man of his size might not be the best of your ideas.

But that's exactly what you are; a goddamn tease. You just can't help it. You know he gets an equal kick out of this setting: of you being so small. Anyone is small compared to him, but you're small compared to anyone. Next to him–not to talk under him–you look like a helpless doll.

And perhaps that's what this is all about: perhaps one of these days, you want him to wreck you.

Use you.

Even the very thought makes your cunt wrap around him again. Massive thighs at least twice the size of yours force your legs wide apart as he goes deeper – so deep that you can feel those balls again, hefty slaps against you as he tries to bury himself inside a place he's not meant to fit.

You always wonder what you look like under him, disappearing entirely under a dark shadow and hundreds of pounds of muscle. Spreading your thighs to offer too tight a slit to what's practically a monster. It must always be forced inside with sweat, patience, and needy grunts. How insane it must look for that thing to disappear inside you again and again until you're loaded with him… His cum never stays inside before you reach the shower, but the feel of it running down your thighs is absolutely glorious.

You notice he slows down the pace, which is odd. Normally, he's fucking you with abandon at this point.

"What's wrong?"

He huffs above you, chest swelling with shallow, alarmed breaths.

"Wrong? What's right, more like…"

He resumes with a thrust or two, looks down to where you are joined, and lets out an aggravated groan.

"I'm sorry, I can't…" He draws back as if to pull out completely, and you whine a complaint. A decision is made right away; he sinks back inside, fills you again and again, until…

"I think I'm gonna cum," he informs with apologetic alarm.

Oh.. Right.

… Already?

"It's ok… it's ok," you sweep your hands up his back, clutch him to make it known that he can collapse like a tower upon you, and you would only feel enthusiastic about getting buried under the rubble.

Use me.

Just fucking take me.

The look on his face is a rare glimpse behind the walls of a remorseless soldier: something primal but vulnerable, something fragile that only you are allowed to see.

"You can use me," you whisper, and it's like a spell that calls upon disaster.

"Ah, Christ…"

It takes only a split-second before he accepts your offer in full. You're planted in the mattress with starved thrusts, his thighs and chest spread you open until he's drilling you in an almost 90 degree angle. You're concerned for the bed's capacity to take this sort of plowing when you should perhaps worry more about your poor abused pussy.

It's such a heaven that your jaw falls open, too. You're dreamy and helpless under him while he's far from feeble. He looks like thunder above you, especially when you're looking at him like he's a demigod.

Like you're in love.

Which you are… And he knows it, even without that adoring bimbo stare you give him.

"Gonna–cum. Fuck, I'm gonna–"

You can almost see the sweat breaking, can feel the cock inside you jolting even when there's no room for it to do such a thing.

"Fuck–! "

It swells inside you as he cums with a painful groan. The orgasm seems to just last and last, and you realize with horror and thrill that the guy hasn't had a wank in days. Work has been a bitch, then, and you get to pay for it – a punishment you suffer with glee.

He gives you his all, squeezing you between arms that feel like a too tight cage, crushing you with a chest that feels like a compression machine burying you under an iron weight. Hard thighs press against yours until you're spread open for him to be buried in to the hilt.

And you know it gives him hell that he finished before you: it's on par with a failed mission, you suppose. Your mission, however, was a success. The body around and over you is coiled tight, but the tension gradually leaves. Obviously it makes him feel even more heavy.

He finally goes slack against you, just like you wished, and you almost squeal while getting imprisoned by a heap of heaving muscles. He's catching both breath and the remains of his pride as he lies there on top of you. The cock inside gives an occasional pulse, but you're forever hungry.

This man should be illegal…

You know you won't be left stranded for long, and seeing him so utterly done gives you enough satisfaction for now. You can wait for him to finish you in other ways.

"You're fucking dangerous," he huffs in your ear while trying not to crush you completely with his weight. He's gathering his strength in the solace of your neck, and you smile like you're on drugs.

"Does that mean you like me..?"

"What do you think," he snorts humorlessly on your skin, but you know he's more than happy. "'Welcome home'... Bloody hell, woman."

"I'm glad you're here," you laugh and place a hand on that broad back to caress him gently.

"Yeah. You can keep that toy."

"Perhaps I'll finish myself with it," you chirp to annoy him a bit more. Another triumph: you have to suppress a laugh upon hearing him groan.

"Now give me a bloody minute…"

Poor man. The thought that you feel just too fucking good to him, so good that it makes him lose control, gives you such a high that it's just sinful. The thought that a stoic goliath like him is rendered weak on top of a small, harmless woman is more intoxicating than a wine glass filled to the brim.

You pet the back of his neck and know he's probably tired from work and wants to sleep. You wouldn't object to falling asleep too while he's holding you.

"How about we give it another try after a nap?"

Your offer makes him rumble softly, contently; the man's ready to drop but also thoroughly enamored. Your heart skips a beat from pure happiness.

"Mm. You always have the best ideas."

#ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #mw2 smut

1K notes · View notes

erwinsmithsmissingleftarm · 4 months

Note

the nsfw alphabet for reiner pls !!! i love how u write <3333

Note: Aw thank you, it warms my heart to hear that! We all need that nsfw alphabet for our big softie Reiner

Warning: full mature content ahead, post-war!Reiner

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Reiner is very gentle after sex. Undestand him, he just let you see the most vulnerable side of himself and can't believe how good you made him feel. This guy just wants to thank you for everything! He is the type to immediately bring you a glass of water and hug you, asking if you are okay or if he hurt you by any accident. Probably needs you to tell him at least twice that you are really fine and that you are more than satisfied to finally stop worrying and asking questions.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

If you ask Reiner which body part he likes from his body, he will probably mention his eyes. Nothing really fascinating, they looks boring to him but after you kept complimenting them, he really started to think they are pretty. I mean, how can't someone fall for those honey eyes, looking so fucking gorgeous in the setting sun?

As for you, he will never say it out loud but he loves your boobs. They are just... so soft and firm at the same time, it does not make sense to him! The perfect pillow to sleep on and cute anti-stress balls. He is not too touchy either, just slightly groping on them in private when you are okay with it. Small, medium or big, he loves the feeling of them in his big hands and the blush on your face whenever he tells you how cute and pretty they are.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Reiner is the biggest cum eater in the world. Man can lick your dripping pussy for hours without being tired. Every time he flips his tongue in your slit, he makes you even wetter until you literally beg him to stop. He then lifts his head and looks at you with glazed eyes and his puffy lips covered in cum until he runs his tongue over them to not waste any drops. He does not know why but your sweet nectar has a such addictive taste that he can't get enough of it.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It might not be surprising but Reiner fantasizes about you dominating him. Who knew that this big man could actually think about being the submissive one, letting you take control over him. He is so... tired to be the one always taking decisions. Reiner just wants to be at your mercy because he knows you will take good care of him.

He needs you to push his hands away as he tries to touch you, gosh he can't stop thinking about it but everytime he is about to ask you about it, the words stay stuck in his throat. He can't say it, no matter how much he wants, he is just a tiny scared that you might judge him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Before you, Reiner did not have anybody and honestly did not have a lot of time to think and care about sex. Yes, his sex life before you was non-existential. Your first time was actually a bit embarrassing as both of you were virgins and did not really know what to do. It was a bit messy at the beginning but after a few minutes, Reiner caught the pace.

But now I think it's a bit useless to tell that he became pretty skilled with all the times you two did the deed. He is still unsure of himself sometimes but it is very rare now as he feels like he can be himself with you without being judged. If anything embarrassing happens, you two just laugh about it and continue this intimate and passionnate moment, not focusing on that.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

As a person who is constantly searching for approval from his partner, Reiner finds it very important to maintain eye contact while having sex. He needs to be sure that he is doing everything okay and seeing your face can be very helpful. He needs to see any little change in your facial expression that could potentially show some discomfort/pain or at the opposite, pleasure. Positions like the missionnary or the lotus are his favorite for that.

It's very rare for him to try new positions that are not the two mentionned the line before but the doggy can be also great when he feels a little more dominant, giving him the access to reach that sweet spot inside you. Another nice position would be the spooning one. Reiner just loves how his whole body is pressed against your back while he is gently thrusting into your tight pussy.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Reiner is not goofy during sex at all. For him making love is the pinnacle of seriousness and not something that should be joked about. This moment should be used to share and show your intimacy, your love and affection and he does not want to ruin it by making jokes that will only cringe both of you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Normal level of hair. Reiner is not the type of guy who take time everyday to make sure he is freshly groomed so he shaves it about once a week? Not too shaved but not messy either, just the perfect mix. The puebes are darked than his blond hair, a somewhat brown/caramel color.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He is probably one of the most romatic guys ever during sex. I mean, my boy is putting all his efforts in to make you feel good and loved. He's taking his time to pamper your body with hundreds of kisses and whisper how much he loves you into your ear. Let's also remember that he is extra-sensitive, literally baby boy, so he really takes his time to please you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Whenever he has a boner but you are not there, he will ask you to send him a pic of you. Not necessarily a spicy one where you are in a lewd position or showing your tits to him. Nope, just a pic of you today, his imagination can do the rest to imagine himself undressing you, removing that cute crop top or unbuttoning that shirt.

He will usually imagine that his hand is your hand and that you are the one giving him that handjob. His strong thighs twitches as he feels his climax approaching, hearing your soft voice whispering praises at his ear. He finally let out a loud gasp as his hips thrust forward, his cum covering his hand, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise kink. Listen, the worst thing you could ever do to Reiner is degrade him. That sweet boy's life was filled with remorse and self-doubt and only God knows how he is still alive today. He cannot stop thinking about all the bad things he did and it drives him sick. Reiner needs to be comforted, to be called good and to be praised. He loves it when you whisper sweet things to his ear or when you, on the contrary, yell them as he makes you feel so good.

Size kink. This man is HUGE and it always turns him on how you are so small and cute compared to him. He love when your hand is gripping his while he's literally stretching your tight hole out. Bonus points if you wear one of his shirt, it's a huge turn-on and he will just fuck you in it without any doubts.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

I feel like Reiner is quite the traditionnal guy who thinks that there is no better place to have sex than in the bed. It's a private place where you two can't be seen or interrupted by anybody, it's comfy and easy to clean up after (just throw the dirty bed sheets in the laundry and ta-da).

Honestly, I think Reiner can fuck you everywhere as long as it's in a private place with nobody else. If the sexual tension is too much and you can't even reach the bed without fucking each other, the couch, the kitchen counter, any table, the shower... any place at home is a good place to fuck you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

One of his biggest turn on is probably when you wear his clothes. It comes with his size kink. Not gonna lie, Reiner finds it fucking sexy when you wear his clothes, like his shirt that is way too big for you. It is just adorable how the piece of clothing is hanging on your body, making you look even smaller than you are. Be prepared to be fucked until you pass out if you dare to wear his clothes (of course, he will fuck you while you have his shirt on).

Another turn on for Reiner would be dirty messaging. You don't have to spend any pics, just dirty textos can make him feel tight in his trousers. This man is pretty easy to turn on, you just have to tell him everything you want him to do with you and he is already hard. If you text him while he is not at home, he will come home earlier than planned. He is already expecting you to be half-naked on the bed and might teach you a lesson about turning him on in public.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I don't see Reiner has someone who would feel pleasure with pain honestly. He thinks that all this BDSM stuff is a bit disgusting and weird. What the point of hurting someone you care so deeply about even if it is just for sex? This does not make sense to him. He is pretty vanilla sex as you can see and will refuse anything that could be painful (either for you and himself).

Another turn off would be anything that implies another person than you two (threesome, public sex, ect). Due to his protective personality, he wants to keep you all to himself, no sharing allowed.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

If it was not clear with the letter C, let me say it again. Reiner loves eating you out. Of course, nobody is born pro at giving oral but Reiner is kinda good at it even at his first time? Not that he is so skilled but even with that first messy cunni he was able to make you cum after a short amount of time. Those skills only improve with time and soon he becomes a real professional.

He also does not care if you think you are too heavy, just sit on his fucking face and let him lick your pussy dammit! You are a thick girl? Squish his face with your thighs please. Skinny girl? Squish his face too. No matter your body type, your height and your weight, this man handle you like nobody else and loves you more than anything else in the world.

Reiner also likes being the receiver but do not push you to do it. You are too scared? That's okay, there is so much more to do in bed! You are messy and unexperienced? Wonderful, there is no better way to gain experience than with practice! You are fucking skilled and can take all his dick one-shot? Keep it like this, he won't complain!

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He is both. Often, Reiner will start thrusting into you slowly and sensually, just to make sure you have time to adapt yourself to his cock. Then, his thrusts will slightly increase in pace and roughness to finally transform into intense pounding that will make you scream and rearrange your guts.

Also, Reiner is not the type to change pace depending of his mood. That means that even if he had a bad day, he is angry or tired, he will still fuck you as usual and not more agressively. He does not want his emotions to take control over him and take the risk to hurt you by accident.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

It might be surprising but Reiner does not like quickies. The reason behind this is pretty simple, he is easily stressed and dislikes to be quick on a such thing as making love. He likes to take his time, feeling his climax approaching slowly, no stress about being late for something...

He wants to take it "relax" if we can say it like that. Quickies with him are very rare, mostly done when you two have unexpected changes in your plannings right before making love.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Reiner is not really the risky type, he likes to stay in his comfort zone and may be grumpy at the idea of trying something new. So if you want to try out new things, you will have to push this man to take some risks but he will say thank you after.

Okay something silly like cockwarming. When you first proposed it to him, he made the sour face that always make you laugh. He did not understood the point of having his cock buried inside your guts without the right to move. How could he resists from pounding inside that warm pussy of yours? Okay it took you a few days to convince him to try it just one time but the result was worth it. Just hearing the soft sigh that escape his lips as he feel that warmth around his shaft, you pussy squeezing him slightly, making it even tighter than usual. He fell in love with it, now always asking you to cockwarm him while he's working from home or watching a movie with you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Thanks to his high sex drive (which will be more explained in the letter Y...) and his good physical form, Reiner has a lot and a lot of stamina. This stamina the the one that allow him to last for at least 15 minutes per rounds.

This guy can be pretty whiny if his partner only wants to go for one round as he prefers to go for minimum 2 rounds and more. After complaining a bit, he accepts his fate if his lover did not change their opinion but be ready to an extremely long sex session to compensate for the only one round thingy.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

As said in the letter N, Reiner is turned off by almost everything that is not vanilla sex. That means that the possibility of him owning toys is very very small. If it was just for him, the answer would be a total no.

But, he actually also cares about his partner's needs and requests so if you want to try out some toys one night, he will accept. Reiner is only doing it for you and by consequence, only uses the toys on you. However, he still does not get it how some plastic can bring as much pleasure as a real meaty cock.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

One thing, Reiner is not a tease at all. This man is already way too needy for sex to lose time on teasing. Forget about things any other guys would do like hands avoiding your dripping wet cunt or his tip teasing your entrance. No, Reiner is giving you everything you want as soon as you give him the green light. You just have to ask him and he will do it.

But what if YOU decide to tease him? Oh my god, this big guy will turn into a whiny mess, begs literally flowing out of his mouth like a waterfall. Why are you so mean to him? Why do you tease that poor baby? At some point, he will almost grab your hand and bring it to his twitching and neglected dick. "Don't you feel how I need you? Stop teasing me please, I can't take it anymore..."

Let's just say that you are still wondering how you keep losing against those soft honey eyes...

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

A loud boy here! Well, let me re-phrase it. At first, he is very shy and tries to mute any sounds that could come out from his mouth. However, he quickly gains in confidence and after a few minutes he does not hesitate to let you know how much he loves it by being very vocal. Mostly growling and soft whimpering, he is not into very girlish sounds and stays more manly. Sometimes, he can let out whines and sobs if you decide to tease him.

Reiner also like to have a noisy partner. Actually... who does not want to have a noisy partner in bed? The sounds you make is the easiest way for him to know if you like that he is doing or if you are close to your climax. Don't hold back or he will slip his fingers into your warm mouth and force you to keep it open while thrusting into you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

This man is a true cuddle bug. He can stay for hours in your arms, feeling your fingers scratching his scalp. He is craving for affection, even more physical. Pamper his face with kisses, hug his bigger frame by behind, hold his hands while you are taking a walk... he just needs it. He likes the feeling of your head on his chest when you are peacefully sleeping, nuzzling against his body. Yes, he is needy just like a little kid but it's adorable and we love him like that.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Would you be really surprised if I told you Reiner has a big dick? The answer is probably no because we all know that under those pants is hidden a whole monster. Reiner is quite shy about it because he finds it gross but honestly it is a whole feast.

You want more description? Here you go: it's above average, about 7 inches long and 2 and half inches thick, no piercings with a slight curve that allows him to hit the deepest parts of your body, no cut with a nice dark pink color.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

To be honest, it surprising at first how high is Reiner sex drive. Who could know that this quiet warrior would be a sex addicted? Not that he can't spend one day without it. No, he can restrain himself of course like any normal man. He will never assume it and even more say it out loud but yes, he likes the feeling of his dick inside you a little bit too much.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Usually, due to his trauma, Reiner has insomnia and barely sleep 3 hours per night plus nightmares often happen to him so our baby doesn't get a lot of rest. But after sex, he's surprisingly falling asleep only a few minutes later. The rush of emotions you two just lived and the feeling of your skin pressed against his seems to calm him down. It won't take long for you to hear his soft snores as he's already sleeping tight.

#reiner braun x reader #reiner braun x reader smut #reiner x reader #reiner x reader smut #reiner braun #reiner braun smut #reiner smut #aot #attack on titan #reiner aot #reiner headcanons #aot headcanons smut #aot headcanons #aot smut #attack on titan smut #aot x reader

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mothisamess · 8 months

Text

Bakusquad x Insecure! Reader

_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—

or alternatively a reader that's just not confident bare faced

(more platonic but could be seen as romantic! more fem centric. sorry for weird formatting I wrote on my phone lol and not proof read I wrote this in less that 10 mins)

_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—

- It was no secret that you were one of the prettiest people in class 1-A.

- You were always put together.

- having your hair clean and always wearing at least some makeup.

- it was a very very rare occurrence that you wouldn't be wearing any. practically no one had ever seen you without it.

- the closest they got was after training or villain attacks.

- one night, you, Mina, Kirishima, Jirou, Sero, Denki, and Bakugo were having a sleepover in Mina's dorm.

- It was around 12am and everyone was winding down for the night. (Bakugo is not very happy about it. but it's the weekend so they managed to convince him)

- mina handed you a makeup wipe so you could sleep barefaced.

- you politely refused.

- mina pryed a bit more, she didn't want her pretty best friend to break out!

- you laughed a bit and made a joke about how you 'look like one of those old diseased hairless cats' without makeup.

Mina - ✩⁠

_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—

- she's shook.

- you're literally her perfect best friend like huh?

- she'll pester you about it for a while

- and if you say that it was caused by others at your old school...

- she loses her MINDDD

- bc youre gorgeous like what?

_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—

- she always hyped you but before but now it's extra!

- will 100% spread rumors about anyone who talks bad about you.

(and they're vileee 💀)

Kirishima - ✩⁠

- he's so surprised

- you look like that and think you look bad??

- aggressive positivity. literally shoving it down your throat.

- hype man!!

- he hypes you up more than Bakugo at this point

- if anyone's trying to be rude to you he will immediately stop them.

- he will not hold back in training and will definitely tell other people that they aren't nice

- and you know it's bad when even Kirishima isn't nice to you. before the person knows it all of class 1-A hates them.

_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—

Jirou - ✩⁠

- she's so surprised!!

- you're like a goddess in her eyes

- she doesn't say much about it that night but over time she subtly hypes you up!

- just small things like 'you're hair looks nice today's or 'where did you get that shirt?'

- she's a little nervous that she'll offend you so she tries her best to not seem as blunt as normal.

- if anyone says anything bad about you (in general but especially about how you look) she goes crazy 💀

- she will not hold back during training.

- (she has gotten scolded by Aizawa for it before)

_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—

Sero - ✩⁠

- he has to take a moment to take in what you said

- like huh?!

- how are you insecure?

- you'll def end up having one of those deep conversations another night where he finds out everything.

- def hypes you up

- practically everytime you walk into the common room he'll tell you you're outfit is nice

- you could be dressed like Adam Sandler and he'd still eat that up

- if anyone is rude to you he'll shoot a small piece of tape onto the ground so they face plant 😭

_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—

Denki - ✩⁠

- he side eyes you immediately and does one of those slow head turns 💀

- he'll pester you for a bit about it but after Bakugo slapps him over the head because he wants to sleep he drops it for the night

- BIGGEST HYPE MANNN

- hypes you up about everything, your handwriting, cooking, baking, drawing, grades, quirk, strength, everything.

- if anyone's every rude he will 100% give the person small shocks.

- especially in quiet rooms.

_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—

Bakugo - ✩⁠

- even though he might be bad at showing it, he didn't want his friend to break out either!

- but he hid it behind him not wanting to hear you complain about your skin

- won't hype you up but once he sees you with out makeup he'd definitely do a really sarcastic fake shock

- like 'gasp oh my god-! you- you- look perfectly fucking fine. say some dumbass shit like that again and I'm beating your ass.'

- will immediately scream insults at whoever talks about about you

- it could literally be a medical professional next to you on your death bed saying that you over estimated yourself in a fight and he'd still do it

_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—_—

#mha headcanons #bakusquad #bakusquad x reader #denki kaminari x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #sero hanta x reader #kirishima ejiro x reader #jirou kyouka x reader #jirou kyouka #mina ashido x reader #mha fanfiction #mha fanfic #mha x female reader #mha x gender neutral reader

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paymechildsupport · 25 days

Text

Doppel!GOJO x Reader // "Looks Satoru Enough.." [JJK x TNMN crossover au] 🥛🔵

---

PROMPTS (combined):

"so what about gojo but hes a doppelganger like the milkman. and basically (afab) reader is his girlfriend and doppelganger gojo pretty much is obsessed with reader. so then one day reader finds out and doppelganger gojo is pretty much just scared but all reader cares about is if he loves her. and so he basically confirms that he loves her and is obsessed with her, and then from that point on just smut....

"doppelganger Satoru who tricks you into letting him inside. But once he's in he doesn't care about killing the neighbours he just wants to fuck you and give you all his cum milk. If you're feeling extra down bad maybe some breeding kink 😊(ofc he's the milkman in this)"

---------------

>> @maskedpacific @sadmonke hope I did your prompts justice, a lot of it was winged 😋🥛

JJK TNMN au: all the characters of JJK just in TNMN

-!! Monsterfucking ; oral sex ; overstim(?) ; he has a really long tongue

-!! No pronouns, -- genetalia is referred to as a "hole" -- so creative reading freedom

———

Doppel!Gojo who assumed the identity of your pretty boyfriend after devouring his decaying corpse behind a back alleyway,— his first and only thought of entering the complex, your complex

Doppel!Gojo who for months beforehand could only admire you from afar, confined to the shadows. He could look, but he could not touch. He’d glare in envy as his parallel self continued about his normal life,— milkman everyday, delivering your neighbors with their daily supply of dairy. His company slogan: “The Strongest”, because milk made your bones nice and strong (you see what I did there? You see the pun? Yeah.. okay, I’ll stop 😔).

He was your boyfriend,— yet he’d never look at you. You’d simply be off to the side, smiling, forced to observe as you the frustratingly cocky real Satoru Gojo borderlined flirted with your other neighbors. He didn’t even touch you anymore,— so busy socializing, working- stuck in that silly little head of his,— every night your neglected body would have to sleep in a cold bed.

The real Gojo also happened to be the strongest DDD agent out there, — the best of the best— ; when he wasn’t the milkman he was out slaughtering those wretched doppelgängers trying to claw into everyday human life. Single-handedly, he’d manage to keep your specific complex completely Doppel free for the past decade. You often wondered if you’d all survive a day without his protection. He had such a keen eye, always knowing a fake when he saw one. Yet another thing keeping him busy: he’s the strongest, he’s suppose to protect everyone,— and you were just his lover,— no, side piece.

Doppel!Gojo knew he could do better, knew he could treat you like you deserve. If— no, when — he stole the real Gojo’s life his one and only priority would be to shower you in the love and affection you so deserved. He was by far the most advanced of his kind, an almost exact replica,— having all the same defining features as the original: snowy hair, bright blue eyes,— though slightly eerier than the original pair,— and that same cocky, lopsided smirk.

You’d started to branch out, seeing as your ‘boyfriend’ clearly had more important issues— he just wasn’t ready for a relationship,— you being the biggest victim of his inflated ego. Too proud to let you go, but too self conscious to properly stand by your side

So, you’d often talk to the other residents of the complex: Nanami— a spokesperson, and Shoko— the surgeon, have quickly become your newest buddies.

Doppel!Gojo knew you like the back of his charred, clawed hand— the only differentiating key feature,- a staple of all doppelgängers. Covering them with the gloves of Gojo’s milkman uniform was easy enough. He had spent ages observing from afar, admiring,- adoring,- practically drooling everytime you’d double take in an alleyway when you swore you heard a noise behind you. He could watch you for eternity, looking inside of your apartment through an open window, cock erect and unbelievably hard in the confines of those mortal pants.

Doppel!Gojo has been patient, and now that it’s finally his turn, the only thing on his mind is getting your perfect body spread on his bed, fully bare and naked for him to feast upon.

With the “strongest” dead, it would take practically nothing for the doppelgängers to break in and overrun the place,— but all he did was slaughter whatever doppelgänger crossed his path on his way to your room. Practically breaking the door down, you had no time to react before your boyfriend slammed you against the wall, mouth open in a small “o” as he began feasting.

---

“S—Satoru.?” it’s been forever since your voice pitched like that, syllables squeaking from the overdose of pleasure between your thighs

“Mmm?” the snowy white of his head lifts up momentarily from your thighs, blue eyes blinking innocently. He hums, playing with the elastic of your panties, pulling and slapping them against your thigh, “s’mthing you need, baby?”

“I.. *hic*” sparks fly through your system as his warm tongue presses against the growing wet spot of your underwear, throwing your head back, “AH– .. *hic*. n-..no-”

He smiles, all teeth, and you can’t help but feel like prey the way he eyes you; hungry, – starving, even.

“Hmm.. if you say so,”

You gasp as he tears your panties off, the cold air slapping you. He licks his lips, an animalistic urge overtaking him as he dips down between your legs.

You're stuck wide eyed, only able to watch as his snowy head bobs up and down, tongue suddenly grazing your entrance.

“S-SATORU– .. G-GAhh.. ngha~.” You mewl, pleasure curling through your body as he curls his tongue, flicking it just in the opening, almost exactly where you need him, “c-CAReful, – Sato..- aa OOh~” he takes long, full strokes with his tongue, the muscle slipping right into your slick hole. He groans at the taste of you, sloppily twisting his tongue inside. You buck your hips, fucking his tongue into you, squealing at the way he slobbers. His lips grace your ass, practically making out with the lips of your soaked folds. You can’t even question how he’s still breathing, being suffocated between your thighs, – nor why his tongue is so inhumanly long, hitting deeper than what even any human cock should, – not when he fucks you with it so good.

Sharp blades pierce the meat of your legs, causing you to shriek, the pain immediately drowning in the immense waves of pleasure racking through your body. ‘Satoru’ grips you, spreading your plush ass further while his tongue digs absurdly deep inside you. Your insides are coated in his saliva, the warm, strong muscle of his tongue finally hitting your pelvis, – and you come hard.

He eagerly laps you up, drinking from you like you were the finest of wines.

“God.. you taste.. Heavenly”

You can only shake violently as his tongue retracts from your inside, done invading your organs. Thick, heavy sobs rack your entire body, thick coils of pure pleasure tighten, wanting more.

A predatory smile donning his features, ‘Satoru’ licks his chops like a dog eyeing a particularly tasty treat. Hastily ripping off his tie and peeling away his clothing, ‘Satoru’ eases your body onto the living room couch, spreading you out perfectly for him before lowering himself on top of you.

You grab his face, cupping his cheeks in your hands. He’s practically glowing, pale, milky skin soft underneath your fingers. His blue eyes bore deeply into yours, absolutely stealing what little breath you had left away.

You should ask what the hell that was, who fuck, – or rather, – what the fuck was he, and what’d he do to your cold-shouldered boyfriend.

But as you gaze into those sapphire windows, you can only whisper;

“Do you still love me..?” voice soft and thick with the tears choking your throat.

‘Satoru’ brings is blackened claw to your face, long, agile fingers wiping away your tears,

“Of course I do… I love you more than everything, – more than you could possibly imagine.” (not like he was wrong)

You smile softly, body too weak to lift itself up to kiss him.

He brings his lips to yours, and you kiss him back.

Looks Satoru enough. --

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

milk. 🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛

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chrollohearttags · 6 months

Text

free smoke • portgas d. ace

content + themes: modern au, black!fem reader (also a firefighter), throat fucking, spit play, hate fucking, breeding, full nelson, spanking, shower sex, backshots, mentions of ovulation and pregnancy, missionary, enemies to lovers-ish, daddy’s used, calls reader a slut, brat taming, squirting

📝: firefighter ace is on my mind so enjoy my depravity until I put a proper fic out. (I’m like a sick dog in heat for this man omg) this is like pure filth, look away if it’s not your thing or if you still have a bedtime. In other words, minors, piss off.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

friends…it’d be the last word you’d ever use to describe the relationship between yourself and Portgas D. Ace. Despite working together day in and day out, fighting side by side to save lives regardless of your own safety and practically living underneath the same roof..you couldn’t stand him! Perhaps, even that was being a bit generous. You hated his guts. Granted, he was the man that you received all of your orders from at Fire Company Eight as he was the Vice Fire Captain and you were merely a rookie firefighter; having only joined the five man crew only a year and a half prior.

“Hey, rookie. Grab those boxes from over there and bring them upstairs.”

oh how you despised the moniker..a reminder of his superiority and ranking over you. Sure, he didn’t purposely wave it over your head like some proverbial flag but he certainly didn’t downplay either. He knew how much it ruffled your feathers so he’d repeat it in hopes of getting you agitated and riled up. Almost like clockwork, it done the trick everytime! “I have a name. Why don’t you try using it, asshole..” Oftentimes scoffing over your shoulder with cut eyes and a nasty glare. Even so, with much vitriol and vengeance in your heart, you’d follow his commands. It was no secret among the entire firehouse that you two were sworn enemies..or rather, he was on the receiving end of a one sided grudge. All beginning when you first started here and he treated you as if you were dumb. And it didn’t help that you were the only woman here. Despite graduating top of your class at fire college. The best scores, highest evaluations…none of it meant a thing to him! Your biggest issue with him was that carefree, lackadaisical attitude. Put simply, he was a jackass! He didn’t care about much including someone’s hurt feelings. Especially when he hadn’t done anything except his job. The way he saw it, until you surpassed him in rank, you could get glad in the same damn drawers you got mad in. “I suggest you watch that fucking mouth if you know what’s good for you..”

a warning you’d certainly heed once the rest of the crew heads out on a grocery run. Knowing that they’d be out for at least two hours, stocking up on food and toiletry items for everyone, that left the vice chief ample time to teach you a lesson. He knew your little charade was nothing more than show for the others because the second they were out that door, leaving you two alone, you were both in the shower..relieving those rising tensions..

“Open…there you go—see, you can follow instructions.”

“Fuck you—“

the words spewing like venom shortly before he gags you get again. The steamy droplets of warm water cascading over your nude bodies as they collide in the stand in bath. Your so called sworn enemy cuffing your wrists with one hand as he slowly thrusts into your mouth. His hard cock sliding between your plump lips and silky jaws, drumming up strings of spit..along with loud gagging sounds. All while his six foot four frame stood above you. Only muted by the downpour from the shower head as you sat fatefully on your knees, being used to his leisure. You may have been pretending to be angry and talking all recklessly but he could tell that you were enjoying this just as much as he was. Ace wasn’t fooled by your tough exterior the way everyone else was. Because he knew the one thing you needed above all else..was a good fuck. To be slutted out beyond comprehension; to have so many orgasms, you won’t even have the energy to be a bitch. And who better than to give you the treatment than your beloved boss? Hell, he had done it before. Many times in fact and although it didn’t shut you up for good, the satisfaction of seeing you sprawled and fucked out with his cum inside of you was enough consolation!

Ooh…fuck. You know something, rookie? I think you should’ve took a career in acting instead. Pretending to hate me in front of everyone else but sucking me off in the shower..you’re a strange girl.”

interrupting his praise to lob more saliva into your mouth in the form of a long string. Only to resume his rapid assault of your throat. Taking it all the way to the base..allowing his balls to slap your chin and his abs to brush your forehead, holding it in place until he saw fit. Taking full advantage of your nonexistent gag reflex. He’d withdraw to be met with your messy face and rewarded you with a kiss amid your heavy gasping. Even after working your mouth over and feeding you a couple faint slaps, you still had plenty to say! “Who said I was pretending? I still can’t stand you.” Which was all fine in theory but again, he wasn’t paying your ass any mind. Rather, he wanted to make use of this free time that you were granted and fuck the shit out of you. Tugging you by your arms, Ace swiftly spun you around so that your thick backside was pressed to his pelvis. He didn’t hesitate to impale you on his cock and begin feeding you deep seeded strokes. Your back bent and frame curved into a S shape as he pulled you back by your wrists..the recoil of your plush flesh bouncing against his own and sounding off. That sopping little cunt seeping with cream and slick each time he pounded into you. Ensuring you couldn’t move unless he granted so.

“You sure about that? Could’ve had me fooled, sweetheart…this pussy’s so wet f’r me, I can barely stay in it..”

drumming up a sheath of sticky membrane and more of your beautiful moans. Even drudging up some of his own. Ace would toss his head back and try not to focus too much on the ripple of your plump ass swallowing him whole. He loved the sound, the contrast..he loved how good you felt for him! “Fuuck! Fuck me…oh my gosh..just keep giving me that dick and shut the hell up.”blurting out and whimpering for him without a single thought. His fingers intertwine and clutch around your throat; bringing you back when you tried to run. Seeing as your hair was covered by the silk bonnet atop to your head. “Shit…ain’t gotta tell me twice….so sexy when you talk to me like that.” Spinning you around to kiss once more. Mirroring that of lovers moreso than a couple of people who were just arguing. The collision of skin and loins making it difficult for either of you to conceal your true feeling. Clawing at the tile walls, (y/n) cried out yet again and begged for him to go deeper. Even holding it open once he freed your hands. “That’s right, spread that ass…let me get in it..” grunting into your shoulder blade before forcing you back down. He wasn’t showing you any mercy. Smacking and spanking your cheeks rigorously..leaving stinging marks. “That feel good? Am I in it?..” “..yes, daddy. In my fucking spot..oh my God!” Bringing forth a hearty laugh and lewd feelings from your vice chief. “Daddy, huh? I was an asshole not too long ago. Wonder what changed.” Either way, he loved hearing it come from your mouth!

“C’mere..grab me.” In a moment of haste, the dark haired, dreamy eyed man would twist the faucet off to cease the shower and instruct you to wrap your limbs around him. Which you did so, seeing as how your legs couldn’t stop trembling. He had already worn a sore spot into the pit of your tummy but he was far from finished. Not when he was still throbbing profusely; leaking from that swollen tip when he pulls out of you. However, that doesn’t last long as he’s got to be one with you yet again. The two of you would shuffle back towards the bunk cabins, where two beds resided on each side; one atop the other. For convenience, he’d take the bottom one but not before pounding you all the way there. Hoisting you up midair and slamming you back down on his cock with sheer strength. Your nails digging ferociously into the giant piece of ink on his back; those clear, manicured nails scraping at his tattoo and he was loving every second. “Right there! Fuck!…gonna come..” whimpering into his ear as your face cradled into the crook of his neck. He knew it was a lot, it always but you took it so well..better than any other girl he’d ever fucked. You wrapped around him as if you never wanted him to let go.

“Damn..you’re close, aren’t you, baby? I can feel it..” whispering into your ear as he placed a kiss to your temple as a means to quell your quivering body. That ecstasy was hitting your body like a freight truck and there was no greater sensation. Bringing you to the mattress, Ace maintained his grip on your legs before standing straight back up and letting another line of spit lubricate your folds already sopping folds. Just to really get you shaking, he’d tap that shaft against them before gliding back in. Something about staring into your eyes whilst deep inside of that heat, was so much more raw and intense. You couldn’t hide or pretend anymore. He saw every emotion all over your face. Especially when those strokes were so rhythmic and beautiful, each one connected to your spot. Stroking that sensitive clit, Ace sucked his teeth and kept pushing forth, prompting you to take over holding your calves so that he could give you the brutal fucking you so desperately craved!

“Yeah..take it. Take this fucking dick..you little slut!” Bearing his entire weight down and through gritted teeth, Ace pounded your pussy until the bed frame underneath you was rocking back and forth. Fucking you with his hands cusping your throat. He knew how much it turned you on; apparent by the rampant twitches against his shaft. You’d claw at his wrists as he kept going…taunting you and talking his shit the entire time. He knew he had you exactly where he wanted and wasn’t going to let up until his abs and the floor was left a soaking mess. That deep voice causing pangs in the bottom of your stomach when he yelled at you. Hastily shoving his tongue back into your mouth, the vice captain kept going..despite running on the last of his energy, he’d find himself balls deep in you; practically hurled into a mating press now. Still, he wasn’t stopping until you emptied that sack for him and took every last bit of his nut. And you weren’t too far behind..delirium and cock drunkenness was setting in pretty heavily and you wanted to come for him so badly. Despite not wanting to cave. Hell, he was ducking you down so good, you were ready live in his skin and cook him breakfast! Repeatedly slamming into that core and making you cream for him immensely. Not to mention how erect your nipples were..you were sensitive and by the tears streaming down your face, that let him know one fact:

“Ooh..somebody must be ovulating. No wonder you’ve been such a mess, rookie. You just needed someone to come take care of you, huh?”

cooing to you in a manner that made it impossible to resist his charm. Sticking a thumb between your lips to pacify you, he’d get inside of your head..playing on your insecurities and talking you through those feelings. He could always tell when you were in that mood and when that time of month was near. Either you’d be in the foulest of moods and no one could bother you or you’d pick a fight with him just so he could give you some dick. It was almost like clockwork but he’d give in every single time. How a man that you despised knew you better than any partner you’d ever had was beyond words. Holding your face close, he’d cradle you in his palms and let your gazes meet one last time. When he saw your eyes, they were welled full of tears and brimming with lust. His theory was absolutely correct!

“I know, I know. Just breathe..” talking you through that inevitable orgasm. He’d calm you with reassuring words, kisses to your forehead and regressed strokes. Slowing down so he could meet you right there and you guys could come together. “Same time, okay? You and me.” He’d bog down and hone in for the last minute or so, knowing his climax was growing near. That tip prodded and swollen beyond relief as it oozed precum. Leaking and begging to burst. His full, heavy balls smacking against your asshole with a layer of sticky liquid between them. Clutching the backs of his thighs, (y/n) held him in place, begging for him to fill you to the brim. “Fuck! Just come in me.” And with that command, for the first time in ever..he’d follow. Releasing his load and lobbing yet another sloppy peck. One that lasted far longer than the rest. That warm seed spilling into you as he attempted to muffle his own cries. This was pure heaven if he’d ever experienced it. Your hands scaling his back and your limbs fully coiled around him as if you never wanted to let go.

“God, I swear you’re nothing but trouble, rookie. What am I gonna do with you?”

heavily huffing whilst examining your face. It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Caressing the side of his face with a gentle hand, you’d bat those beautiful eyelashes before bopping his nose with the tip of your finger. “Well you can start by getting me a Plan B, Mr. Weak Ass Pull Out Game.” Immediately sending him into hysterics. “Shut up, like you weren’t begging for it..damn brat.” The two of you would joke around and cackle as if everything was just peachy between the two of you. Knowing you’d go right back to being sworn enemies. Just then, the sound of footsteps and doors unlocking sounded off from downstairs. Maybe one day you’d settle your differences for real. “Our little secret?” “Of course.”

but for now, it was much more fun to pretend!

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@hobiesrockstargf

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