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thetarttfuldickhead · 4 months

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It’s a little unclear, in the end, how the conversation gets there, because all in all the Richmond dressing room isn’t the site of that many sex jokes, not since Colin came out and no longer feels the need to make them. But they’re still lads, yeah, and young, mostly, so the jokes still happen, even if it’s just gentle ribbing, and silliness.

So: somehow, one morning halfway into Roy’s first year as head coach, the topic turns to sex, of the rougher variety. Roy’s only listening with half an ear, he’s busy sketching out the new trick plays Nate’s dreamed up on the whiteboard, and he doesn’t really catch the build-up, but when Jamie’s name is mentioned his ears perk up without him even really noticing. It’s become instinct at that point, keeping track of Jamie (even as Roy does his best to give all his players at least some semblance of equal attention).

“We know that Jamie likes it rough, though,” Zorro says, and the rest of the group oh:s and ah:s either knowingly or in surprised glee.

“Eh?” Jamie sounds startled by the assertion, but not particularly put off. (He never really is, as long as he gets attention, Roy thinks with an internal scoff that’s far fonder than he’d ever admit to.) “What makes you say that?”

“You told us!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Roy can see Jamie shake his head. “I don’t know what you’re on about, mate.” Still not bothered, but clearly not understanding what Zorro is getting at either.

Isaac throws him a disbelieving glance. “You don’t remember, bruv? It was when you first came here, before you started going out with Keeley.”

“Yeah,” Colin interjects, “You’d only been here for about two weeks, I think, but you came into training with these marks and bruises, and it turned out you’d hooked up with a girl the night before, but you hadn’t known she was a professional dominatrix before you got to her place.”

Hoots and titters at that, delighted and amused but not unkind.

“Exactly,” Zorro says. “And you told us you’d just gone with it because you have to try everything at least once, and it hadn’t been bad.”

Ah. Roy remembers now. He’d already been absolutely fed-up with Jamie’s attitude, the arrogance and selfishness and incessant need to put others down, and the striker’s total lack of shame and casual smugness about the marks had rubbed Roy entirely the wrong way. Not because people should be ashamed for liking that sort of stuff, of course (Roy wasn’t), but there was such a thing as common decency and unspoken rules about not parading around the dressing room like you were in a fucking porno or some shit and—

If Roy was honest about it, he’d mostly been pissed because it was Jamie, and everything Jaime did pissed him off back then (though, to be fair, most of what Jamie did back then was fucking shitty, so it’s not like Roy was wrong to be pissed. Most of the time).

“Oh.” Jamie’s voice is soft, suddenly. Small, in a way that has alarm bells going off like air raid sirens in Roy’s head. “Yeah. Um.”

The realisation hits Roy a second before it does the rest of the team, and his ears are already filling with a terrible ringing as the room falls silent behind him. He can feel himself grow rigid with rage, and with cold, curdling shame.

“Shit, man,” Isaac says eventually.

“Jamie, I’m so sorry.” It’s odd, the way Colin’s earnest, unhappy voice seems to be coming from so very far away.

“What?” Zorro, still not getting it, and then he does, and Roy, at a great distance, can hear his face crumpling. “Oh shit, Jamie, I didn’t mean—“

“No, don’t worry about it, man. It was a long time ago, yeah? It’s fine.” It’s a heroic attempt at sounding casual. Might have succeeded, too, back before they all knew Jamie as well as the do now.

Roy doesn’t stick around to hear the team offer their comfort and Jamie try to wave their concern away. He walks into the coaches’ office, and the only reason he doesn’t slam the door as hard as he can is because he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself.

“You all right there, Coach?” Beard looks up at him from behind his book, brow creased in quiet assessment.

“Oh my God, what happened?” Nate jumps down from the desk he’s been perched on. “Did someone die?”

And Roy wants to tell them to fuck off. Wants to punch the wall so hard it stops his mind from spinning. But he’s been talking with Dr. Fieldstone about that, hasn’t he, how his maladaptive coping strategies are tripping him up, and fucking over the people he cares about in the process.

So he takes a deep breath. And he doesn’t look at them when he starts talking. “Back before Ted came here Jamie came in with these bruises all over his chest and back one day, and he told us he’d had sex with a fucking dominatrix. And I believed him, okay? I just… I fucking believed him, even though it was weird fucking bruises for— That’s not the fucking point. But because I thought he was an arrogant fucking prick and I fucking hated his guts, I told him— “ He trails off, looking up at the ceiling. Uselessly, his cheeks are burning. Maybe his eyes are, too, if he’d let himself feel it. “I told him I’d be happy to pay to see someone give him a trashing. Give ‘em extra if they knocked a couple of his teeth out so he’d shut up for once.”

Beard doesn’t say anything, but he leans back in his chair with a look on his face that lets Roy know that, yeah, he’d fucked that one up good and proper.

“Oh,” Nate says. “So it was his dad who— That’s— But— I mean, that’s not good, obviously, that’s awful, but it’s… It wasn’t you who hurt him, Roy. And I mean, you and Jamie have said all sorts of thing to each other. Done all sorts of things.”

And that’s true, isn’t it. And mostly Roy is happy enough to write it off as tit-for-tat, old foolishness and bygones, Jamie a prick and Roy sometimes an idiot, and they’re both better now. And he doesn’t know how to explain to Nate and Beard how knowing that Jamie looked up to him ever since he was a kid, knowing that he never took that poster down, even after that, after everything, makes his casual cruelty and failure to protect Jamie all the harder to bear, even if he hadn’t known at the time that there was anything to protect Jamie from.

“Coach—“ Beard begins, but is interrupted by a knock on the door, and before Roy can tell whoever it is to fuck off, Jamie sticks his head into the office. Must have made his escape from the rest of the team, then. “Sorry, Coach, are we getting started or what? The lads— “ He catches sight of Roy’s face and his eyes widen. “Jesus, Roy, what happened? Are you all right, man?”

Under other circumstances, Roy might have found it remarkable how quickly and effortlessly Jamie makes the switch from Roy’s respectful star player to Roy’s friend, his entire demeanour changing as he moves into the room. As it is, Roy doesn’t say anything, but he must have made some sort of noise or moved some sort of way, because Jamie’s face twists in alarm, and then he’s across the floor and gently but firmly pulling Roy into a hug. “There, it’s all right, man, I’ve got you, lad, it’s all right.”

Roy blames all the fucking therapy he’d been doing for the past eight months for not pushing Jamie away but instead allowing the other to hold him, and allowing himself to hesitantly wrap his arms around him in turn. Fuck Nate. Fuck Beard. Fuck the team. Fuck anyone who thinks they get to have opinions on that.

He’s got an inch on Jamie, but Jamie’s broader, solid and strong. Steady, as he puts a hand on the back of Roy’s neck, murmuring nonsense that Roy knows is supposed to be soothing, and which maybe is. Mostly, it’s reassuring to have Jamie there, whole and hale and safe.

“What’s going on? Is Phoebe all right? Did something happen to your sister? Keeley?” Jamie is starting to sound a little freaked out, and Roy realises that he can’t just stand there mutely forever and let the fears grow in Jamie’s mind, he needs to fucking say something, explain.

He’d rather never say another word.

Tough fucking luck, Kent. “Do you remember what I told you when you said you’d had sex with a dominatrix?”

The way Jamie stiffens tells him that, yeah, Jamie does. “Roy—“

Roy tightens his grip, not wanting Jamie to pull away. “Don’t fucking tell me it was fine, because you were a nightmare for the rest of that day, you were absolutely fucking horrible to everyone.” Worse than usual, lashing out—not that Roy had known it at the time, or had thought it anything more than Jamie being a fucking prick for no other reason than to be a prick.

For a few moments, Jamie doesn’t say anything. Then he lets out a long sigh, relaxing into the embrace and pressing his face against Roy’s neck. “Yeah, okay,” he mutters, “it was all shit, mate. I mean, all of it was, it wasn’t just you— But, Roy, listen… “ And now Jamie does pull back, just enough so that he can look at Roy. His eyes are tired, but the set of his jaw determined. “You fucking hated me, right? Back then, I mean. You hated me, ‘cause I was a prick, and I hated you, ‘cause you were a bitter old cunt.”

There’s no fucking denying it, is there. Roy gives a sharp nod. “Yeah, but—“

“No, let me just— I’m not saying that makes it all right, yeah, I just— You hated me, okay. But, would you have said what you said if you’d known what really happened?”

Roy’s lips twist into snarl. “What? No! Of course I wouldn’t fucking have— “ He might have ached to put Jamie’s head through a wall several times a day, but he wouldn’t have stood by for Jamie’s piece of shit father—

“See?” The little twat has the audacity to look triumphant at that, as if he’d scored a particularly neat goal. “That’s what I’m saying, yeah? Even when you hated my guts, you wouldn’t have said that, if you’d known what was going on. But you didn’t know, ‘cause I didn’t want you to, or anyone to, and I’m an amazing actor, yeah? So, like, it’s not fine, but it’s… Don’t beat yourself up over it, man. You didn’t know.”

It’s absolution, the kind Roy doesn’t think he deserves and the Jamie is far too quick to offer. But Jamie is also right: Roy hadn’t known. Wallowing in guilt won’t do anything to change the past, or help Jamie now.

“All right,” Roy says. “But that was still a shit thing to say and I wish hadn’t done it. You never deserved any of what that arsehole did to you, and if… fuck it, when I made you feel like I thought otherwise, that was my fucking bad, and I’m sorry.”

Jamie nods. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, man.” And there’s a tremulousness to his faint smile that makes Roy think that for all his claims to the contrary, it had still been something Jamie needed to hear.

It does Roy’s fucking head in that Jamie’s been up to see his dad several times since he got word that James Tartt is in rehab. But they’ve argued about that already, bitterly, and Roy has very reluctantly admitted that it’s not his call. All he can do is offer Jamie whatever support he needs, whenever he wants it.

Clearing his throat, Roy gives Jaime an awkward pat on the shoulder before carefully extricating himself fully from the hug. “We’re still on for dinner with Keeley tonight?” He’ll make Jamie’s favourite dish, he decides. Throw in some dessert.

“Yeah, of course, yeah.”

“Good.” He jerks his head to the door. “Go on then, tell the lads to get on the pitch, and we’ll be there in a minute.”

“Yes, Coach.”

As the door shuts behind him, Roy turns on Beard and Nate who – wisely – don’t say anything.

“I don’t want to fucking talk about this,” he tells them sharply. “I don’t want you mentioning a fucking word of it ever again.” Because maybe he’s gotten to a point where having a fucking breakdown and hugging it out with Jamie in front of them isn’t the end of the world (even if it’s a near fucking thing), but if someone tries to make him discuss it, he’ll need to start head-butting people, and he’s been trying to stay off that since he became manager, because it just isn’t a good look, is it, and he’s trying to be better about that sort of thing.

Nate and Beard glance at each other. Roy doesn’t really care for the knowing look in their eyes, but they merely offer a nod and a yeah, yeah, of course, sure in reply, and that will have to do.

In this messed up world, a lot of things would have to fucking do.

“Right,” Roy says, already moving to follow Jamie. “I’ll see you on the fucking pitch.”

---

A/N: This was supposed to be the fourth of the stand alone ficlets I call The Locker Room Conversations, but it got quite a bit darker (and less team focused) than I usually do for those, so I’m not sure. I’ll sit on it for a bit, maybe fiddle a little, and see where I put it when it goes up on AO3 eventually.

If you like the idea of the team uncovering sad truths about Jamie’s past and are into heavier angst (and more of the team taking care of Jamie), I highly recommend checking out i should be the poster kid for this shit by anotherlongstoryshort / babytarttdoodoo

#well-intentioned ribbing lead to unhappy revelations #and references to earlier abuse #and roy having all the emotions about it #there’s also a very long hug because a girl’s gotta get her kicks somehow #james tartt sr is mentioned and his own warning #hurt/comfort #angst #roy kent #jamie tartt #roy & jamie #afc richmond #a team of himbos #who mean well even when they get it wrong #fic #my stuff

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fyodorloveclub · 2 years

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⋆ SLEEPING ALONE? ⋆

headcanon ➫ BSD boys when they come home to find you sleeping with their clothes (ft. dazai, chuuya, akutagawa)

notes ➫ mostly gender neutral reader, 1 or 2 references to afab, some sex references

dazai

Dazai came home in the middle of the day because he got bored at work and he’s a fucking menace to society

You had spent the night and then stayed because you had the day off, were not expecting him to be home until later

(But honestly you should expect anything and everything from Dazai)

You had been picking up clothes that were thrown on the floor last night after some ~fun~

Picked up his button down and had this weird moment where you really missed him even though you just saw him, and he was coming home later

(You were probably about to start your period)

You laid back down with his shirt but accidentally fell asleep

(He kept you up very late)

Anyway, back to Dazai showing up

Evil laughs while he slips out his phone to take a pic that he would probably harass you with later

Re: menace to society

It does really warm his heart though, he absolutely adores you in every single way

He crouches down next to you and gently brushes your hair out of your face so he can press a little kiss to your forehead :”)

He jokes around and is a silly little man but truly no one has ever loved him as fiercely and deeply as you do

So he just sits next to you for a little bit, thinking abt this and how much he loves you back

He sighs before pulling back the covers and laying down with you, gathering you up all tight in his arms

You unconsciously toss the shirt to the side before fuckin bear hugging the poor man (still asleep, not much can wake you)

He sees you smile a little bit since you get to hug an actual Dazai :)

Realizes he absolutely cannot get up no matter what now, lest he disturb your slumber

Texts Kunikida that he can’t come back in for the day, puts his phone on DND because he knows its about to get absolutely blown up by the poor man who just wants to do his silly little job

Kisses your forehead a billion times before getting all comfy and falling asleep too :-)

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

chuuya

Returns back to his apartment after a weeklong trip away on some sort of evil business trip who knows

He opens the door to his bedroom to see you sleeping in his bed, with one of his black trench coats wrapped around you

Slightly catches him off guard bc you don’t live together, but you obvi have a key so like not that weird

Laughs a silly little Chuuya chuckle before getting ready for bed himself

He doesn’t want to disturb you just yet

Idk I just love to imagine the boys and their silly little nighttime routines

I like to imagine Chuuya’s isn’t anything complicated but does take the time to brush his teeth, wash his face and moisturize (only uses the right things bc you bought them for him), and brush his hair before conking out

Makes his way over to the bed to gently shake you awake, whispering your name

Your eyes flutter open and take a second to take in the situation and the person waking you up

But as soon as you do, you’re wide awake and absolutely throw yourself onto the poor man who is probably very tired

He catches you but laughs, petting your hair as you squeeze the absolute shit out of him

“I’m so happy you’re finally home :’)”

“Me too, baby”

He asks why you have his coat wrapped around you, surely that cannot be comfortable to sleep in

Your cheeks heat up because you’re just a lil embarrassed

“I really missed you, and having your coat on felt like you were hugging me :(“

He feels both adoration because that’s so sweet, but sadness because he hated that him leaving you made you so sad

He pulls the coat off you and tosses it off the side of the bed

Pulls you into his arms and hugs you so tightly, bc damn he’ll be better than a stupid coat

You relax into the touch that you missed you so so much

You stick your hands up his shirt to feel his skin

He yelps because your hands are fuckin cold

“Is this better, my love?”

“So much better”

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

akutagawa

Comes home after a long day with the pm to see you curled up on the couch, holding his t-shirt to your chest

(we’re assuming he has to own t-shirts I mean c’mon there’s no way he sleeps with that frilly ass blouse on)

You very clearly had been folding fresh laundry when you conked out

For a reason Akutagawa cannot understand his t-shirt comforted you enough to lull you into an accidental nap

(You knew why; he is cold to the entire world but an angel to you)

He’s annoyed at first, old Akutagawa kicking in where he does that thing of getting pissed at nothing

Reassesses the situation and actually realizes it’s very endearing

Still absolutely cannot grasp why you find so much comfort in him

He crouches down to try to take the shirt from you to wake you up so he can shoo you to bed (nicely, of course)

You have that shit in a death grip

He sighs the Akutagawa Sigh™

“Love, c’mon, let me take you to bed”

“hMppHHH, Ryuuu” (you are not roused easily)

He is finally able to wake your ass up

Takes you by the hand to lead you gently to the bedroom so he can put you to sleep, obvi with the intention of joining you

Must undress from earlier mentioned frilly ass blouse

That shirt will have to be pried from your cold dead fingers

Sheds frilly ass blouse, brushes teeth, makes last minute evil phone calls, etc, before crawling into the futon with you

As soon as he lays down with you, you immediately toss the t-shirt and throw yourself onto him

He does a little oof

- You wrap your arms around him and he does the same, pressing a kiss to your forehead

“Love, can I ask why you fell asleep with my t-shirt”

“Mmmmm, smells just like you. Dryer made it feel warm and cuddly like you.”

Aku hmmphs at the warm and cuddly part, but it secretly endears him

“But don’t need the shirt anymore, I got the real thing. Smells and warmth and all,” you whisper before nodding back off to sleep

You reach for him unconsciously and he pulls you even closer to him

Again he literally cannot grasp the concept of someone loving him for the entirety of who he is, but has come to accept it from you very gratefully

He has a very hard time saying it, but your love for his little things, something as small and specific as his scent (which he was not aware of), makes his heart swell with joy

Grinch moment where his heart grew 3 times its size or something

Will happily take the place of cuddled t-shirt any day <3

#didnt wanna post this rn but im gonna be gone #hence the shit theme #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #akutagawa x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs imagines #sealed with a kiss ♡#flora’s fics

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m1ssunderstanding · 4 months

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Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day Nine

Here’s the thing. Like, on one hand, Paul loves teaching. But on the other hand, I honestly think he’d be a terrible teacher. He’s genuinely trying to explain songwriting to this kid, and all I’m getting is that I should be able to just look at a piano and it’ll give me whatever I want. “So it’s really just . . .” *plays Martha My Dear* “. . . and from there, you know, like, um, there’s no – unless you stop yourself – there’s no stopping yourself.” Yes, thank you, Professor McCartney. Very informative. Good thing you’re a gorgeous genius because not a word of that lecture made any sense.

Seriously I am BEGging someone to write Paul and Ringo in the 20s as a cabaret duo! With Paul’s talents being songwriting, slutting it up, piano, and vocals and Ringo’s talents being tap-dancing, ventriloquist dummy impersonation, with the occasional piano, vocals, and sly winks. Maybe they meet George and John through organized crime, idk.

“They don’t just sort of come in your head, kind of thing?” “Yeah, sure. Fact, I had one this morning.” You know. As one does.

See, even Ringo’s on board with my plan. “Let’s make a silent movie.” And Paul. “In a club. That’s it. We’re in a band. We’re in a band, but we sell drugs.” And now they're stringing Paul up just for kicks. Maybe they could join the circus!

Literally the minute John starts being silly, Paul gets this fond look on his face and you can see the wheels turning like “quick, think of a way to get close to him.” And John’s into it. But they keep doing this seesaw thing and I can’t help but think how reminiscent it is of their dynamic as a whole.

“I see you’ve given up smoking, Richie.” “Yes, I have.” Reminds me of that classic, “I don’t even smoke,” thing. Seems like five-hundred years ago.

PLEASE tell me Peter Sellers and Ringo had a torrid love affair during the filming of The Magic Christian. The way Peter touches Ringo’s hair and his face! Ringo being a gentleman and getting Peter a chair! And I mean there’s plenty of queer coding between them in the film.

But also laughing my ass off at Peter’s reaction to their song-titles/lyrics/gibberish/other references code.

Yoko, you’re stone-cold and hilarious. “Or what we haven’t.” I honestly have mad respect for her complete disregard/disdain for the Beatles and their art only because that’s how they treat hers for the most part. But girl. You’re married to one of them. He genuinely does love them and what he does with them and you’ve got to respect that or go find someone else, you know?

Also, Paul does Not appreciate the attitude. “Or we’ll just sort of sit here and allow ourselves to be embarrassed. ‘Number nine . . .”

Aaand, just like that, Peter Sellers “must be off.” He lasted all of 1 minute 26 seconds. Weak. George and Ringo lasted fifteen years.

MLH is literally that annoying person that asks you a serious question about yourself just so he can use you as a segue to talk about his problems.

John: just recovering from the day, you know. Yoko: from the night. John: embarrassed (you have no right, dude, you literally played your sex tape for everyone like two weeks ago) Paul: Did not want that image, thanks very much.

It actually KILLS me though that we’ll never understand their code. Paul and Ringo will take it to their graves and no one else knows it and any footage like this we’ve got, and any code songs, will just be mostly uninterpretable for all time.

Okay these few minutes here are soooo special to me. It’s John at his peak lovely, sweet, gentle, kind self. He makes a joke at which Paul can only nod darkly which makes John realize just how bad of a place Paul’s in.

Paul wants them to get to work “achieve something every day.” But John knows he’s not in a good headspace to work and it’ll be shit and then Paul will spiral even more. So, he turns up the humor until Paul is sufficiently cheered.

And then, he says. “Guitars? I thought that’s what they do.” And Paul’s stammering. “Oh, that is what they do, but–” John stands up, does a little head-tilt toward the instruments. “Come on, I’ll even show you about half a song I was writing. Come on.” That last in the tenderest, most coaxing voice. It’s just soooo. Like. We talk a lot about Paul ‘handling’ John, and he did. But John sure knows how to handle Paul.

I SO wish they’d have done something with “Madman”. It’s so fun!! Every single song in this era I will go to bat for, no question.

Ringo’s little hug for Paul!!!! I can’t.

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #get back

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mellowsadistic · 1 month

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Easter Bunnies - Part 1

Melony and her boyfriend meet up with their friends for a garden party, but the girls are acting more like toddlers getting ready for an Easter egg hunt, and Melony's boyfriend expects her to join them.

***

“Are you looking forward to playing with your friends, sweetie?”

Melony scowled at her boyfriend as they walked up the driveway. “Don’t say it in such a patronising way, Peter!” she snapped, tossing back her long black hair. “How many times do I have to tell you not to talk to me like a child?”

“Sorry, Mel,” said Peter, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, baby. I know you’re very sensitive about that sort of thing.”

Melony pressed her lips together. Even his apologies were infantilising! Mostly she liked having Peter as her boyfriend; he was tall and handsome, and decent enough in bed, but he could be infuriatingly condescending at times – even though they were the same age, he sometimes treated her more like a toddler than the twenty-four-year-old woman she actually was. But now wasn’t the time for an argument. She’d save her scoldings for when they got home.

Peter knocked on the front door, and a few moments later it swung open to reveal a smiling, sandy-haired young man. “About time, you two!” George said cheerfully, standing back to let them over the threshold. “Happy Easter! Come on in. Hazel and Oliver are already here.” He shook hands with Peter as he passed and, to Melony’s annoyance, placed his hand on her back to move her along down the corridor, as though she couldn’t do it by herself. “Hazel’s just upstairs with Oliver, being changed into something more comfortable,” he said, “and Jackie’s playing out in the garden.”

Melony clenched her teeth. There was that word again. Playing. Anyone could be forgiven for thinking he was talking about a trio of three-year-olds, and not three grown women in their mid-twenties. And there was something about his smile that Melony didn’t like. But then George often looked like he was laughing at some private joke. It was maddening! She didn’t know how Jackie could stand it.

They were led into the bright kitchen at the back of the house. Double doors opened out onto a wooden decking, and beyond that a large green lawn with patches of brightly coloured Spring flowers. But before Melony could head out into the sun, she heard running footsteps on the landing above them, and then the unmistakable sound of someone rushing down the stairs as fast as they could.

“Hazel!” she heard a man call. She recognised Oliver’s voice. There were more hurried footfalls above them. “Wait for Daddy, silly girl!”

A moment later, a young brunette woman ran, or rather toddled, through the hallway to join them in the kitchen. “Mewwie!” she squealed, coming to a stop in front of them.

“Hazel?!” Melony gasped. Her normally shy, reserved friend was standing in front of her wearing a pair of trainers on her feet, a set of bunny ears on her head, and absolutely nothing in between. Her bare pussy and perky breasts were on full display, though it didn’t seem to bother her one bit. There was a vacant, innocent look in her green-brown eyes, and she was grinning broadly.

“Hazel, what are you doing?!” Melony asked, blushing scarlet with second-hand embarrassment. “Why are you dressed like that?!”

Oliver chuckled as he entered the kitchen behind his girlfriend. “I’m not sure I’d call her dressed at all, Mellie,” he said, winking at her. “My little lady was more comfortable in her birthday suit, but I insisted on shoes.” He patted his girlfriend’s bare bottom. “And of course, she absolutely refused to go without her pretty bunny ears.” He kissed Hazel on the cheek. “Didn’t you, baby girl?” he cooed. “You wanted to be Daddy’s nakie little bunny rabbit!”

Hazel giggled delightedly. “Nakie bunny!” she echoed, bouncing on the spot and making her boobs jiggle about.

“But she has to tell Daddy when she needs her potty,” Oliver said, “because we don’t want to leave any puddles on George’s floor, do we, baby?”

Hazel nodded seriously at her boyfriend. “Tell Daddy,” she agreed. “Don’t need puw-ups!”

“Not during the day at least,” said Oliver, bending down to give his girlfriend another kiss, this time on the forehead. “You’re Daddy’s big girl, aren’t you?”

“What the fuck is going on here?!” Melony demanded in a shrill voice. She realised she was breathing very fast. A part of her was sure this had to be some bizarre joke, but the blank look in Hazel’s eyes was telling her otherwise. She looked around at Peter and George, but neither of the boys seemed to think there was anything wrong with the situation. In fact, George looked like he was trying to hold back laughter as he took in the sight of Hazel standing nearly nude in front of him, prattling like a toddler. Peter was looking at her, however. There was a smirk playing around his lips, and an almost hungry look in his eyes.

Melony suddenly remembered that George had said Jackie was out in the garden, and she rushed to the back doors. Her heart dropped into her stomach when she reached them. Jackie was indeed playing in the garden. She was prancing about awkwardly like the littlest of toddlers, giggling and trying to catch butterflies. She wasn’t naked like Hazel, but Melony almost wished she was. She wore a pale pink dress, all frills and lace, and so short that it did nothing whatsoever to hide the enormously thick nappy she wore beneath. Even as Melony watched, Jackie bent over to peer at something in the grass, and her diapered bottom was thrust high into the air. The padding was sagging and discoloured. She’d clearly wet herself. A moment later, she straightened up and turned around, smiling even more vacantly than Hazel. Her blonde hair had been tied into a pair of pigtails, and she too wore a set of bunny ears.

Melony felt sick to her stomach. Something was very, very wrong here. Hazel and Jackie needed the hospital, or a psychologist, or something! They couldn’t be allowed to just walk around humiliating themselves like this! They needed help! Before she could get over her shock, however, Peter had walked up behind her and slipped a pair of fluffy bunny ears onto her head.

“What? What are you…?” Melony spun around, confused and angry, to see her boyfriend grinning at her. She lifted her hands to her head, feeling the soft ears, ready to rip them off, but by then it was already too late to stop the warm, fuzzy contentment spreading through her body from the top of her head to the tips of her toes…

#mellowsadistic

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tenelkadjowrites · 1 year

Text

One Question - Seonghwa x Reader, Mingi x Reader, Seonghwa x Mingi (NSFW)

🌧️ Summary: “I was wondering how long it was into the friendship before the two of you realized that you want to sleep together?”

🌧️ Word count: 10k

🌧️ Genre and warnings: one shot. fem pronouns for reader. boyfriend seonghwa. best friend mingi. sub reader with soft dom seonghwa. sub reader with sub mingi. sub mingi with soft dom hwa. dirty talk, reader is called baby doll. oral sex. jerking off. unprotected sex. creampie. voyeurism. squirting. choking, reader receiving.

🌧️ Tags: @thewonderofkpop - @obligatoryidolblog - @yunhofingers - @foggyinternetchaos - @multihoe-net - @spiderrenjunfics - @whatudowhennooneseesyou - @jess-1404 - @just-here-to-read-01 - @lilhwahwa - @btsreader12 - @talkbykhalid - @rdiamond2727 - @inneratinyrebel - @8tinytings - @mrszackfoster - @xirenex

this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa or mingi in any way, shape or form.

The rain comes down in steady drops, striking the glass of Seonghwa’s dining room window and rolling down in slow streaks, blurring the lights outside. It is strange to have a storm this time of year…almost as strange as the vibes tonight as you spend time with your boyfriend of nine months, Seonghwa, and your best friend of well over twenty years, Mingi.

Oddly enough, the energy is entirely coming from Seonghwa who has fallen silent as everyone finishes up eating dinner…a very carefully planned and cooked dinner; it is evident that your boyfriend has taken considerable time and a lot of planning to construct a meal formal enough to be served someplace fancy.

Mingi’s eyes dart over in your direction although he doesn’t speak. Having been best friends with Mingi since childhood, you don’t need him to verbalize anything to know what he is thinking.

“Would you like more wine?” Seonghwa’s deep voice shatters the delicate silence.

“No, I’m okay,” You reply at the same time Mingi goes, “Yes, please.”

You aren’t sure who the question was directed to. This isn’t your first time hanging out with both your boyfriend and best friend. When the group is together, Seonghwa oftentimes seems to direct his words and questions to both of you, never signaling anyone out over the other. After a while, you just got used to it.

Seonghwa pours Mingi more wine, the deep red splashing against the glass as he reaches quickly for it. Your boyfriend then places the wine gingerly back down on the table, resuming eating.

Mingi takes a swig of the wine in a way that shows the strange energy tonight is settling across his shoulders. He isn’t used to this – sitting with your stoic boyfriend who has made a well prepared dinner. That is where Mingi and Seonghwa differ. Mingi is quick to joke, to be silly, to always make you laugh versus Seonghwa, who is serious almost to a fault, focused mostly on his career, and only peels back the veneer when the two of you are alone in bed. The two men also couldn’t look more different. Mingi is incredibly tall, with vibrant orange-blonde hair, dressing in oversized t-shirts and jeans most of the time whereas Seonghwa dresses in clothes that are seemingly tailored for him to reflect his office job, his hair jet black and always orderly.

“Thank you again for making this,” You tell Seonghwa, “It really is delicious.”

He turns his head slightly to look at you. Even after nine months of dating him, you have a hard time accepting how stunning he is. The sleeves of his crisp white dress shirt are rolled up a little, two fancy rings adorning one hand, glittering in the low light. His black hair frames his face perfectly with the sort of cheekbones you only see in magazines and full lips that people typically photoshop in before posting photos.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

Mingi blurts out, “It is really delicious. Can’t believe you can cook like this. You’re really talented.”

Now Seonghwa turns his face to look at Mingi whose eyes dart back down to the plate. You’ve asked him before why he can never meet your boyfriend’s gaze and he admitted that Seonghwa is a bit intimidating. While it is true that he isn’t like most people you’ve dated, you are quite taken with him. Seonghwa is driven, intelligent, deeply in tune with himself and fine, wonderful in bed.

“Thank you, Mingi,” He replies and Mingi swallows hard, poking at his plate a bit.

For some reason, you feel as if it is necessary to explain why your best friend is acting a little jumpy. “Mingi doesn’t do great in fancy settings.”

“Oh?” Seonghwa is still looking at him, “Is my apartment that fancy?”

“No,” Mingi says hastily, finally looking up, “No, I mean, your apartment is nice. The food is fancy. The sort you would order at a high end place, you know? Kinda reminds me of…”

You know what he is thinking about and interrupt, “I knew you were gonna bring that up.”

He looks sheepish, laughing a little. “Am I that obvious? Remember how drunk I got afterwards? I think I threw up just outside the restaurant. That was so embarrassing.”

You laugh at the memory, over five years ago now, before realizing your boyfriend has absolutely no clue what either of you are talking about. “Sorry, it’s about –”

“You don’t need to explain,” Seonghwa replies swiftly, “I don’t feel left out.”

“Oh.”

People before complained about feeling left out whenever hanging around with you and Mingi. You know that the two of you have a lot of inside jokes and stories that other people don’t know and sometimes you both unknowingly end up in your own little world together. But Seonghwa has always seemingly taken that in stride, never asking you to explain the tiny moments he’s aware of having missed out on due to all the time Mingi and you have spent together.

“Although I do wonder if you would permit me one question?” Seonghwa asks to the room, delicately putting down his knife and fork now that he has finished eating.

Mingi glances at you and gives a small shrug before going, “Yeah, that’s fine.” He sounds slightly curious which admittedly you are as well. Seonghwa has never asked a question about your friendship with Mingi before and combined with the unusual energy he has tonight, it is enough to have your interest peaked.

“I was wondering how long it was into the friendship before the two of you realized that you want to sleep together?” His voice is unchanged like he is asking about the weather, gently dabbing at his mouth with the napkin before placing it back down and raising his head to look at Mingi for a second and then at you.

The words hang in the air, fizzling like soda pop. Thrown off by his casual tone, it takes your brain a few seconds to wrap itself around the question your boyfriend just asked.

“What?” Mingi sputters, openly gawking at Seonghwa.

He clears his throat delicately, turning his attention to your best friend. “How long were you two friends before you realized that you wanted to sleep together?”

Mingi’s cheeks have turned a deep crimson, at odds with Seonghwa’s unaffected tone. “What the hell are you talking about?” He mumbles, not looking over at you.

“I believe my question was straight forward enough not to have to explain myself further.”

“Seonghwa,” Your voice sounds slightly higher pitched than you would like, “Why would you ask something like that?”

He turns in your direction. His expression is completely neutral, his demeanor as calm as ever. “I was merely wondering if the two of you realized it and had a conversation about it or passively decided not to mention it for the sake of the friendship. I’ve never been attracted to my best friend so I was curious as to how the two of you went about it.”

Mingi is still making strange half garbled noises as he attempts to say something. All you can do is stare at your boyfriend, unable to comprehend what has driven him to ask something like this. In the few long seconds that follow, Seonghwa finally breaks the eye contact with you and looks down at his plate with a soft ah.

“What?” Your tone is defensive and Mingi finally falls silent, his cheeks still red with colour.

“Nothing, I just didn’t take that into account.”

“What into account?” You are almost snapping at your boyfriend, unable to control your ever growing irritation.

“That neither one of you accepted it.”

He says it so easily, so effortlessly, that you realize he has been planning to ask this question the entire night and that is why the energy felt different. He’s been thinking about it. He just assumed Mingi and I are attracted to one another and are curious how we dealt with it, you think, staring at your boyfriend.

Seonghwa always thinks things through to a conclusion and remains steadfast in the conclusions he draws. In the time that you have been with him, every decision and choice he’s made has been after a period of careful consideration. If he asked us this, it’s because he logically concluded that Mingi and I…

You are suddenly hyper aware of Mingi across the table and avoid looking at him. Your chest is tight as your mind swirls around Seonghwa’s question. “I was wondering how long it was into the friendship before the two of you realized that you want to sleep together?” No, Mingi never mentioned any desire to sleep together nor have you. It would be preposterous to sleep with him. He is your best friend. You know him so well – the way he laughs, cries, the silly way he gets when he is drunk, the thoughtful way he listens when you have a problem, ever a constant by your side since you were both kids. To think of him like that…

You flinch – at the thought, at Seonghwa asking you this, at something else lurking just under the surface wiggling it’s way up through your chest – whatever the reason, you aren’t sure.

Mingi finally forms a full sentence. “We aren’t attracted to each other.” But his tone is shaky at best.

“Really?” Seonghwa stands up then, pushing his chair away from the table and very slowly making his way towards you. “Or are you lying to me?”

“L-lying to you? No, I’m not –” He trips over his words and finally looks over at you desperately as Seonghwa comes to a stop behind the chair, his hands lightly resting on your shoulders. “Tell him. Tell him we’ve never done anything together.”

“We’ve never done anything together,” You say automatically, distracted by Seonghwa’s hands on your shoulders and the fact you cannot see his face, “We’ve been friends since we were kids. Mingi and I are just that. Friends. Like you said, you’re not attracted to your best friend. I’ve never asked you if Hongjoong wanted you.”

Seonghwa’s hands are as light as a feather against your shoulders. The position is familiar; it is not the first time that you have sat at this table and he has come behind you in this manner. In fact, it usually indicated a shift towards sex. Seonghwa, with his gentle yet stern way of being in control, brought out the submissive in you from the very start in the relationship. Your body is relaxing into the touch before your mind even realizes it.

“Why not?” Seonghwa asks, “If you believed me to have some sort of attraction to Hongjoong, I would have understood the reason for asking.”

Because I’ve never thought you were attracted to him in that way, you think. Seonghwa had been open from the very start of the relationship that he didn’t notice nor particularly care about what gender someone identified with, his attraction always ran towards the person themselves. But there simply hadn’t been a moment of seeing Seonghwa around Hongjoong that made you wonder if anything was there. Unlike Mingi and I, apparently…

“What makes you think we are interested in each other?” You pivot away from Hongjoong which you know Seonghwa will take as an acquiescence to his point.

“Oh, it’s in every look the two of you exchange. The minor touches, the way your hands brush together while walking. The way Mingi hangs onto every word you say no matter the topic,” His voice is soft and melodic, almost lulling you into relaxing, your eyes finally landing on Mingi’s face.

He is sitting up very straight in the chair across from you, his face still and unmoving. The only sign of his nerves is the way he swallows and his Adam’s apple bobs. Your heart thuds while listening to Seonghwa. But things have always been like that with us…I just assumed…

Seonghwa brings one slender finger underneath your chin, tilting your face to look up at him. You can hear the rain pattering against the window against Mingi’s slightly elevated breathing as Seonghwa gazes down at you with his collected demeanor. Then he leans down, closer to your face, his eyes flicking to your lips for a moment.

“There’s something else as well,” He whispers, just loud enough so that your best friend can hear, “Something that I don’t believe you have picked up on.”

Your gaze is a question, your thighs clenching at Seonghwa’s close proximity.

“I’ll show you,” He reaches up and pushes a stray lock of your hair behind your ear, sending shivers down your spine, “May I kiss you?”

In front of him? You wonder even as you nod, giving Seonghwa permission to lean down further and press his lips against yours. The kiss starts off slow and tender as he cups your cheek, the touch bringing forth all the desire that Seonghwa can so easily draw out of you. As it deepens, his tongue slips inside your mouth and you stifle a moan rising in your throat. Your hand tentatively reaches out, clutching the bottom of his shirt to signal that you want more of him. Your body is growing hot with need and –

Seonghwa gently pulls away, his gaze steady on your face. Thrown by the fact he suddenly stopped, it takes your brain a few sluggish moments to remember that Mingi is across the table. Jolted by the realization, you turn to look over at your best friend, suddenly extremely embarrassed at how easy it was to lose yourself in the moment with Seonghwa.

But it is Mingi’s face that takes you by surprise. His cheeks are flushed scarlet, his eyes wide, chest rising and falling rapidly. He licks his lips quickly before dropping his gaze at the table, seemingly unable to speak. You are confused by how he looks, unable to wrap your head around it as Seonghwa brings his lips to your ear.

“Do you see it now?” He whispers so softly that you don’t think Mingi can hear. “He wants us,” His voice lingers as if knowing that it isn’t sinking in, “Both of us.”

You want to tell Seonghwa that is absolutely insane but your throat is tight and no words come. Seonghwa pushes away from your chair, circling around the table towards Mingi’s side who goes stiff as a board when he draws near. He glances at Seonghwa furtively as he brushes his fingers to push some of Mingi’s hair away from his neck, one finger dragging down along the curve, stopping at where his shirt begins on his shoulder.

The touch seems to break the stillness in Mingi and he shivers, his eyes closing tightly for a few seconds. You can only stare, marveling at how one touch from Seonghwa has impacted your best friend like this. It has never been something you’ve noticed. If Mingi did secretly harbor a secret crush or some sort of attraction to your boyfriend, he never made it clear to you. But apparently a lot of things weren’t clear to me. Like how easy it had been to kiss Seonghwa that passionately directly in front of Mingi. Or how watching Seonghwa touching him like that…well, how it made you wetter than ever thought possible.

Seonghwa’s slender finger goes underneath Mingi’s chin, tilting his face gently to look upwards. You watch, entranced, as your boyfriend whispers something too quietly for you to catch. But whatever it is, Mingi swallows hard and then nods.

The next time Seonghwa speaks, it is directed at you. “Mingi has given me permission to kiss him,” He pauses as if to let the words sink in before continuing, “Would that be okay with you?”

You can feel yourself go slack jawed at the question, your best friend steadfastly avoiding your gaze. Your heart is racing, your fingers pressing down against your skirt, trying to fully understand how you’re feeling. You can’t deny how turned on you are, from how Seonghwa is so easily taking control of the entire bizarre situation down to the desire to see the two men kiss. Would it be so wrong? You wonder, your tentative grasp on the night slipping through your fingers like water.

When you reply, your voice sounds too loud in your ears, too brittle as if one wrong move will send the entire turn of events to dust, “Y-yes. That’s okay with me.”

Seonghwa looks more self-assured than ever, if such a thing could even be possible. Bending down, his lips graze Mingi’s once before pausing, waiting to see if he will change his mind. But Mingi’s cheeks only grow an even deeper shade of red in response, showing no signs of deciding against the choice he made. It is then Seonghwa kisses him.

You are taken aback by your body’s reaction to the sight of your best friend and boyfriend kissing. You feel it from the top of your head down to the tip of your toes. You are aware that your breathing has quickened, your thighs clenched, and you’re openly staring. But you cannot help yourself. Mingi seems to melt into Seonghwa, abandoning himself completely. Seonghwa’s fingers have moved through Mingi’s hair, holding onto him just enough to keep him steady as the kiss deepens. Your best friend whimpers, a noise so soft that it is barely audible over the sound of the rain. It is a tiny desperate sound and it hits you then that Seonghwa yet again noticed something that completely slipped by you. He really does want him, you realize with a jolt while staring.

Seognhwa’s tongue is in Mingi’s mouth for a few seconds which only seems to enflame your friend further. With one shaking hand, he reaches upwards to grip the front of your boyfriend’s shirt as if to pull him closer –

And Seonghwa pulls away, breaking the hold before it can cement. Mingi is breathless, looking as shocked as someone suddenly falling overboard at sea. His hand grasps air before falling into his lap, cheeks crimson, lips pink. Seonghwa, as always, is unfazed and merely smooths out the front of his crisp white button up as if Mingi really had grabbed it before circling back over to your side of the table.

Mingi meets your eyes then, just for a brief flicker. You have never seen him like this before, have never wanted him before, and it takes you by surprise seeing the same desire reflected in his eyes.

Seonghwa repositions a couple of chairs from the table so that he is sitting next to you and has an empty chair next to him. He then motions for Mingi to come sit down in the empty chair, not speaking a word. Your best friend hesitates for a second or two and then stands, his hands positioned carefully in front of his jeans. He’s hard, you think, trying not to stare as Mingi shuffles over to the chair before awkwardly sitting down.

With Seonghwa in the middle of you and Mingi, there is a sense of things going to the next step. Your head is swirling in trying to keep up with how the night is unfolding. You turn your head to face Seonghwa and he leans forward, his kiss gentle at first before deepening. It is simple to give yourself over to him, as simple now as it had been the first time you slept together. There is something with Seonghwa that works so well with your brain as if he is a calming liquid that can settle nicely down in all the cracks that reside in your surface.

When the kiss breaks, he grips your thigh, turning his head toward Mingi. His touch remains a reminder that he has not forgotten about you even with his attention divided. Mingi seems to relax into this kiss faster than the first one, his shoulders not as stiff, his eyes fluttering closed. You can only watch in silence, still barely comprehending the fact they are kissing like this.

Then Seonghwa shifts backwards, just enough so that he is no longer a barrier between you and Mingi. You catch on immediately to what his purpose for moving away is and the nerves hit you at once, swirling butterflies in your stomach. The realization strikes Mingi a few seconds later. You wonder if he is going to refuse, if maybe Seonghwa has misunderstood the attraction at hand completely but then to your shock, Mingi reaches out for you, his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you into a kiss that you never thought would be shared with your best friend.

The suddenness of it is like an electric shock in the rain, a shot that runs up along your spine and makes your scalp tingle. It is at once familiar and brand new. Something burns in your chest, a desire that is so overwhelming that you realize Seonghwa had been right – underneath the surface of all the platitudes of close friendship lurked a need for Mingi in a way you never allowed yourself to knowingly consider.

When the kiss ends, you are in a daze, feeling unmoored and lost at sea. There is not one single thought in your head that you could pluck out and present to your boyfriend. But Seonghwa seems to know this because his hand snakes to your lower back, resting there as if to hold you steady.

“Do you want to go to my room?” As usual, this is directed to no one in particular and yet is somehow for both you and Mingi.

Before you can even think it through, you nod. Seonghwa gives a small smile, his other hand coming up to graze his thumb across your lips as he murmurs, “Okay, baby doll.”

The use of his affectionate name for you, only ever used where sex is concerned, is his subtle cue that you can stop thinking now, stop considering everything, and simply give yourself over to him. It is all you can do not to melt in Seonghwa’s arms.

He turns his attention to Mingi, waiting for his answer. His eyes flick to you, down to your legs where your skirt has ridden up a little to expose your thighs, Seonghwa’s hand still there, and then he replies, “Y-yeah, I’ll go.”

Seonghwa looks incredibly pleased and why shouldn’t he? He has somehow read a situation correctly that you didn’t even recognize. On top of that, he is now going to get something he has obviously been thinking about, a secret desire of watching you with your best friend.

It only takes a minute or so to trail after Seonghwa into the bedroom with Mingi lagging behind as if the nerves are getting to him. You are holding Seonghwa’s hand, a steady reminder that he is leading the way and you have nothing to worry about.

In the bedroom, the curtains are open, showing the rain against the window, warping the view of the apartment complex next door. The neon sign from the restaurant across the street is smeared from the water and everything is quiet. Seonghwa’s bed is large, the entire room tidy, things put away in their proper place outside the bookshelf which has stacks of books shoved awkwardly onto the shelves. Even the scent of the room is comforting, that mix of cinnamon, clean laundry and his cologne that you know so well.

In front of the bed, Seonghwa turns to face you. His hands move to your waist, gripping the edge of your shirt as he pulls it off over your head, tossing it to the floor. Mingi shifts behind you, his presence something that you would recognize even in a crowded room. You can feel Mingi’s lips hovering over your neck as his hands run down the length of your arms, making your skin break out into goosebumps.

“Do you like that, baby doll?” Seonghwa whispers so quietly that it is almost difficult to hear him, “Your best friend touching you like that?”

“Yes,” You breathe or perhaps you don’t say it at all, just merely indicate it with your expression.

Whatever the reason, Seonghwa flicks his eyes upwards to Mingi. Something passes between the two men, something you could figure out if your head wasn’t swimming, and then your friend presses his lips to your neck. You sigh, eyes closing as Mingi’s long fingers trail along your arms to your back as he kisses your neck so softly that it is like a feather against your skin.

At the same time, Seonghwa kisses you on the lips. Smushed between your boyfriend and your best friend, it is all you can do not to go slack and let them do whatever they want to you. Never has your head felt so empty and never have you been so turned on. Mingi’s fingers make their way to the back of your bra, deftly unclasping it as Seonghwa gently pulls it off your body, bringing his hands up to cup your tits and squeeze them in his warm hands.

Both men are stiff, Seonghwa’s hard cock digging into your thigh as Mingi’s presses against your ass. Seonghwa’s hands leave your tits, trailing down your stomach to the top of your skirt. At the same time, Mingi brings his hands upwards, groping your tits from behind. His fingers graze across your nipples, making you gasp quietly from how sensitive you are. He doesn’t stop, very slowly rubbing the tips of his fingers against your nipples. Seonghwa lifts up your skirt, bringing one hand to the front of your underwear, pressing his palm against your clothed pussy.

“I’ll ask it again,” Seonghwa murmurs, feeling how wet you are through the fabric, “How long were you two friends until you realized that you wanted to sleep together?”

To your surprise, it is Mingi who replies first, his words gruff in your ear, “Tonight, I realized it tonight.”

“I think the answer is the same for you, isn’t it, baby doll?” Seonghwa whispers as he slips a finger past your underwear and against your folds, “I can tell by how wet you are.”

Before you can reply, Seonghwa gently pushes his finger into your wet hole. You gasp but the sensation only lasts for a moment before he removes it.

Bringing his finger towards Mingi, he goes, “See how good she tastes.”

You cannot see your friend’s face but he must obey because the next sound you hear is of him sucking on Seonghwa’s finger. Your boyfriend watches, clearly transfixed on the sight of Mingi’s tongue against his finger. When he removes it with a soft popping noise, Mingi’s breath catches, his fingers pinching your nipples harder than before just to make you jump a little.

“Yeah, she tastes really fucking good,” Mingi says in a tone you’ve never heard from him before, one that makes it evident just how worked up he is.

“Hear that, baby doll? Your friend loves the taste of your sweet cunt,” Seonghwa says, carefully bringing your hand down to the tent in his pants – he is stiff against the palm and groans a little when you apply some pressure, “You can tell how hard you make me. But I wonder how hard you make Mingi?”

“I want to see,” Your voice has a note of pleading to it as you paw at your boyfriend, “Can I see him?”

“You have to ask Mingi, baby doll, not me.”

Swallowing nervously, you fall silent, thinking for a moment about asking your best friend such a question. Seonghwa gently nudges you to turn around to face him which only reminds you of the situation you’re now in – wearing just your skirt and underwear, with your boyfriend right behind you.

But Mingi doesn’t seem to look so anxious now. He is staring at your lips before dropping his gaze down to your tits, reaching out to grope them once again. He flicks his thumbs over your nipples and bites down hard on his bottom lip as if stopping himself from going further.

“I want…” You trail off, obnoxiously shy for how far things have already progressed, knowing the sentence you’re about to utter is going to be something new for the friendship. “I want to see how hard you are. May I?”

Mingi nods, carefully taking your hand and pressing it down against the front of his jeans. You can barely feel him through the thickness of the denim and it isn’t enough – you want more. At the same time, Seonghwa is carefully trailing one finger down the length of your back, enough to make you shiver as your hands fumble with the button on Mingi’s jeans.

He brushes your hands away, anxiously undoing the button and pulling the zipper down. You reach back for him, seeing his boxers, his cock straining against the fabric. Your head goes slightly dizzy at the sight, knowing it is something you never thought you’d be looking at. When you touch him again, Mingi sharply inhales and you squeeze his cock through the boxers.

Seonghwa rests his chin on your shoulder, his lips near your ear. “Do you want him to fuck you, baby doll? You want your best friend to fuck you on my bed?”

You nod again, too tongue tied to speak and Seonghwa chuckles a little as if he is pleased with your response. Without thinking, you pull down Mingi’s boxers, his cock springing free. You curl your hand around it and Mingi groans a little, mumbling a curse word under his breath. You can’t get over how turned on you are – by the fact you are stroking your best friend’s cock and by the fact your boyfriend is pressed against your back, in complete control of the situation.

“But does Mingi know how to fuck you?” His voice is a little louder so Mingi can hear, “Does he know all the ways my baby doll likes to be fucked? And how to make you cum?”

Mingi, sounding absolutely desperate, immediately replies, “You can tell me. Tell me how to fuck her and I will.”

“Oh?” Seonghwa’s hand comes to wrap around the front of your neck, gently pulling you back against him fully, his cock digging into your ass. He doesn’t squeeze, just holds his hand there, loving the way you slump into him, no thoughts in your head besides the fact you need to get fucked. “Did you hear that, baby doll? Mingi said I can teach him how to fuck you,” His thumb brushes across your lips and you get the feeling he is looking right at Mingi as he talks, “Because this is the one area where I know more than he does.”

Seonghwa gives your ass a tiny pat, stepping away from you and going over to Mingi who stiffens immediately. The effect your boyfriend has on him is linking back to the time he admitted he is intimidated by Seonghwa – only now you know it is because of his secret attraction to him.

His hand goes to Mingi’s hair, curling it around his slender fingers, drawing his face close to his. Mingi seems to slacken, the close proximity of Seonghwa making him almost submissive.

“You’ll do a good job fucking her, won’t you, pet?” He whispers to Mingi.

The sudden use of a term of affection seems to awaken something in your best friend because he nods quickly, stammering out, “I w-will. Just tell me how to fuck her. I’ll do a good job.”

Seonghwa runs his finger down the front of Mingi’s shirt, towards his cock, moving your hand away so that he can bring his there instead. Mingi’s breath catches, groaning, eyes fluttering closed for a moment as Seonghwa very slowly strokes his cock. You watch, unable to tear your gaze away from the expression on Mingi’s face coupled with the way your boyfriend touches him and elicits such a reaction. You are so wet and overworked that it is all you can do not to grab one of them and beg to be fucked.

“Baby doll,” Seonghwa speaks but his gaze is still on Mingi, “Get on the bed for me and wiggle out of your underwear. Leave the skirt on.”

You hurriedly obey, sliding onto Seonghwa’s large, comfortable bed. The rain has picked up now, splattering against the window at a more frenzied speed. He stops stroking Mingi then, who actually makes a noise that sounds like a whine, and gestures to the bed.

“Don’t leave her waiting. She’s worked up enough, can’t you tell?”

Seonghwa goes over to the large chair near the window where he usually likes to read, sitting down in it as if he really is going to pick up a book, and interlocks his fingers. He’s thought about this before, watching us fuck, you think, studying his relaxed pose, and this is all playing out just like he’s dreamt about. Seonghwa has talked before in bed about liking to watch people fuck and that it turns him on but he’s never implied to think such a thing about Mingi and you. The moonlight is broken and jagged from the rain on the window, casting Seonghwa in light and darkness.

Mingi kicks off his jeans and boxers, tossing his shirt into the pile, completely naked now at the end of the bed. He is touching himself, staring at the way your skirt has exposed your thighs.

“Eat her pussy,” Seonghwa commands softly from the chair, “Not enough to make her cum.”

Mingi crawls onto the bed, his breathing uneven as his hands rest on your thighs, looking up at you. It is hard to describe the intensity of what you’re feeling – desire for both men, the fact that toppling over this ledge with Mingi means everything is going to change, all of it swirls within you. Mingi seems to be thinking the same, his breathing shallow, pupils blown with desire as he lowers his head, prying your thighs apart.

He slides his hands underneath your ass, his grip firm as he drags his tongue up along your pussy lips, carefully avoiding your clit. He murmurs something, too soft to catch, and Seonghwa leans forward a little.

“What was that, pet?”

“She has a pretty pussy,” Mingi repeats himself a little louder and then his tongue probes your folds, making you jump from the sudden intensity, “And I need to fucking taste her.”

Hearing your friend speak in such a way sends a thrill through your body. His tongue slips past your folds, going to your wet hole as he buries his face in between your thighs. You gasp, arching your back a little from the sensation. Mingi grunts, his grip on your ass tightening to hold you still, his tongue as deep as it can go inside you.

Seonghwa, looking pleased, relaxes back into his earlier position, saying, “She has a tight little hole too. You should see how it looks when your cock is crammed into it. Although, I suppose you’ll discover that for yourself.”

His words only seem to spurn Mingi on further, another muffled moan tumbling from his lips as he swirls his tongue around to get more of you in his mouth. Then, he moves upwards, lapping at your cunt before finally touching your clit with the tip of his tongue.

Shuddering, you moan and Mingi gently licks there again. Propping yourself up a little, you look downwards to see his bright orange-blonde hair, his eyes tightly closed, lips now wrapping around your clit to suck on it. It is a surreal sight, one that further inflames your need for more, the sort of mental image you never allowed yourself to even casually think about over the years.

“Does he look good down there, baby doll?” Seonghwa asks, missing nothing.

“Y-yes,” You breathe and Mingi opens his eyes, his gaze locking on yours.

You like the way he works your pussy with his small licks alternating between sucking on your clit but the thing you enjoy more is how he looks almost content to just eat your cunt like this, as if it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted.

Mingi sucks hard on your clit as if in response and you groan, your hand going to his hair, holding him in place, falling back onto the bed as he doesn’t stop sucking as if Seonghwa’s earlier words of not making you cum have completely been lost to him. The sounds of him groaning while doing so turns you on and you grind your pussy against your best friend’s face with reckless abandon. Mingi’s hold on your ass slackens; clearly, he enjoys that you’re doing this to him.

With one final lick, your orgasm begins and you cum on Mingi’s face, grinding your pussy down on him, feeling his nose bumping into your clit as you pant and groan. Your hold on his hair releases only as your orgasm winds down, leaving you panting, staring at the ceiling in a haze.

Seonghwa swiftly stands up then, marching over towards the bed. You hear Mingi make a tiny noise of exclamation which makes you prop yourself back up on your elbows to look at what is going on.

Seonghwa has his hand in Mingi’s hair, giving it a sharp tug so that he is looking up at your boyfriend. In the dim lighting, you can see yourself smeared on his face, his lips covered in you, driving home the fact that your best friend has really gone down on you.

“What did I say, pet?” Seonghwa’s voice is soft yet stern and Mingi looks embarrassed.

“You said not –” He swallows nervously, “You said not to make her cum. I’m sorry! I just – I lost control, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I couldn’t stop.” His eyes are downcast.

You’ve never seen Mingi so submissive before. He’s had girlfriends in the past that would hang around but there was never anything in the dynamic to indicate he would be like this. But then you think about how quiet he always has been around Seonghwa, almost meek in a way, to the point where you used to fret that he secretly disliked your boyfriend. I know better now, you realize, staring at the two men.

“If you don’t listen to simple instructions like that, how do you expect to be able to fuck your best friend the way she likes?” Seonghwa prompts.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Mingi gasps out, “I’ll do better, I promise.” At the same time he is pleading, his hands reach for Seonghwa and he presses his palm against the tent in his slacks before blushing as though he didn’t even realize he was doing such a thing until it was too late.

Seonghwa gently pushes Mingi’s hands away, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “Aren’t you easily distracted, pet. Are you even listening to me as you try to get to my cock?” He releases the hold on Mingi’s hair, moving away from him. “Baby doll, why don’t you tell your friend what position makes it easiest for you to cum?”

Your cheeks are warm as you reply, “On top.”

“Did you hear that, pet?”

Mingi tears his gaze away from Seonghwa who is taking his position back in the chair. Very carefully, as if he can’t believe this is happening, he lays down next to you, fingers brushing against yours. You can see his hard cock against his stomach, the precum dripping from the tip. You can’t believe that you are staring at your best friend’s cock like this. Before you can move, Mingi tilts his face towards yours, pulling you in for a kiss. Your heart skips a beat, your tongues pressing together, tasting yourself in his mouth. Mingi rests one hand on your hips, gently nudging you towards him.

The kiss not breaking, you shift on top of him, skin to skin. The touch is electric, his large hands moving down to your lower back, touching the top of your skirt. When the kiss breaks, your foreheads are touching, lips grazing one another gently with each breath.

Mingi murmurs, “I want to fuck you so bad.”

Out of curiosity, you whisper back, “You like that he’s watching, don’t you?”

He hesitates, shyness overtaking for a split second, and then replies, “Yeah. Is that…I mean, that’s weird, right?”

“N-no, it’s not,” The conversation is too soft for Seonghwa to hear even though you know he is staring and taking each moment in, “I like it too.”

“Are you…” His voice catches but he forces himself to continue, “Are you bothered that I’m attracted to your boyfriend?”

“No,” You are quick to reassure him, “Surprised, yeah, but not bothered. I mean…” You glance over at Seonghwa, “He’s hot…so…”

Mingi laughs quietly, his hands wrapping around your waist, wiggling you down so that your pussy is against his cock. You straighten up, your hands pressing against his toned stomach, looking at Seonghwa.

Reflexively, even though it is a bit absurd given the situation, you go, “Sorry, we were –”

“I don’t feel left out,” Your boyfriend replies for the second time tonight, somehow never feeling left out even if it is about an inside joke or the fact he is currently sitting in the corner. His confidence is just that unshakeable.

Mingi holds his cock so that you can sink down on it, exhaling slowly while doing so. But your pussy is soaking wet from being turned on as well as the earlier orgasm and you take his girth with little effort. As he fills your pussy, he curses loudly, his hands going to your hips as you fully take him.

“F-fuck,” You hiss, giving yourself a little bit to get used to your best friend’s cock buried in your cunt.

You can tell Mingi is fighting the urge not to thrust upwards. You rock your hips back and forth, looking at your best friend underneath you. His orange-blonde hair is a mess against the pillow, his eyes alight watching you take his cock. You begin to bounce on his length, admiring the way his face changes once the pleasure overtakes him. His head rolls back, a throaty groan tumbling from his lips, eyes closing. You bring your hips downward hard, taking him fully with each bounce. Your hands are splayed against his chest. When Mingi’s eyes open again, he reaches for your tits, pinching your nipples just enough so that each time you slam down onto his cock, he gives them a tug. The sensations drive you crazy and before long, you are trying to bounce on him as hard and fast as possible.

Your thighs burn with exertion after awhile, both Mingi and yourself making enough noise that you are sure the neighbors are sick of it. Seonghwa, who up until now has been silently watching, speaks just loud enough to be heard over the falling rain.

“Mingi, thrust upwards hard and fast. If you do a good job with it, you’ll make her cum.”

You glance over at your boyfriend, who is still fully dressed, not even touching himself. But you aren’t fooled; you know that Seonghwa is incredibly horny. He just plays the lead well enough not to show it or be distracted by it.

Mingi, relieved at the fact he can finally move, doesn’t waste any time in thrusting upwards, driving his cock deep inside. You gasp in surprise as his hands grip your hips, grunting with each pump of his hips. The skirt is bunched up around your waist from being fucked so hard.

But after a minute or so of this, Seonghwa speaks again, “Not good enough, pet. I know you can do better than that. Smush her against you and fuck her right.”

Mingi pulls you against him immediately, your head buried in his neck as his hands grab your ass. You can hear his heart racing in his chest and then the next second, he thrusts upwards, hard and fast in your cunt. The angle change and the speed feels amazing. Seonghwa fucks you like this often because it is the fastest way to make you cum, and Mingi seems determined to do exactly what your boyfriend said.

Limp against him as his cock relentlessly pounds into your wet hole, the sound of skin against skin, and your ragged moans against Mingi’s – all of it seems to come together to lead you towards your second orgasm of the night. Your pussy keeps clenching down around Mingi’s cock and you know he is trying not to finish himself.

“Take my cock,” His voice sounds entirely brand new, “I want to feel you cum around my cock.” He is panting, his body sticky with sweat from the fast and hard pace he is maintaining. “Tell me how good it feels.”

But speaking is out of the question and all Mingi gets in response is a garbled moan. Seonghwa goes, “She’s close. Don’t stop now.”

His thighs are shaking from each jerk of his hips, driving his cock in your pussy so hard and fast that the sounds of your wet hole taking it are pornographic. Mingi, who before had been almost shy or whispering when it came to any topics of sex, is suddenly talking in a manner you’ve never heard from him before.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” He rasps, his body shuddering, “I love my cock crammed in your tight little cunt like this – fuck. Can’t believe it took this long to fuck you like this.”

The words push you over the edge and your orgasm begins, your pussy tight around Mingi’s length as you begin to loudly climax. You are wiggling your hips, your fingers digging into the bedsheets, gasping against his chest. Mingi, unable to hold off for another second, pulls out and begins to cum. You can feel him spilling out against your thigh as he curses, groaning out your name.

Collapsed on top of your best friend, you try to catch your breath. His arms are lightly wrapped around your waist and when you tilt your face up slightly to look at him, his eyes are closed, some of his hair sticking to his forehead.

Even though you feel fucked out, you look over at Seonghwa. He seems to notice your stare, standing up and walking towards the bed. Leaning down, he kisses the top of your head followed by Mingi’s forehead which causes him to open his eyes.

Still trying to control his breathing, Mingi goes, “Did I – was that good enough?”

“Yes, pet, you did a good job. I don’t think she could even walk right now.” He replies softly.

You suddenly want Seonghwa, desperately, and not just in a sexual way. You want his steadying presence and the way he makes you feel small and safe. Untangling yourself from Mingi, you shift off him towards your boyfriend, reaching upwards for him.

“What is it, baby doll?” He asks even though he knows.

“You’ve been sitting in the corner this entire time. I want you here too,” You pout.

His gaze softens for a moment, reaching out to cup your cheek. Still on the bed, you get on your knees, reaching out to touch the buttons on his dress shirt. Seonghwa watches as you unclasp each one, Mingi stirring behind you.

“Did you like watching?” You murmur as the final button is undone, exposing his chest. “Was it like what you fantasized about?”

“Yes, it was,” He replies softly as your hands drop to his pants, tugging the belt off them, “It was exactly how I dreamt.”

You pull his pants and boxers down. His cock is stiff, rock hard, and you know he must be desperate to cum after putting it off for so long. Seonghwa catches you staring and tilts your face upwards to look at him.

“Pet,” He orders and Mingi is immediately at attention, ever obedient, “I’m going to fuck her now. Come here and suck my cock to get me ready. I know you’ve been wanting to the entire night.”

Mingi makes a small noise in the back of his throat, a mix of pleasure and embarrassment for being obvious enough that your boyfriend noticed. Seonghwa shifts far enough away from the bed so that Mingi can get on his knees, looking upwards at the two of you before leaning forward and eagerly flicking his tongue across the tip of Seonghwa’s cock.

At the same time this surreal sight is unfolding, Seonghwa pulls you in for a kiss. You can feel his desire in it, how turned on he is, and how much he wants to fuck you as his tongue slips in your mouth. When it ends, he looks down at Mingi, who now no longer seems to be feeling embarrassed. Instead, he is bobbing his head up and down on your boyfriend’s cock, spit pooling at the corners of his lips as he tries to fit as much of him as possible in his mouth. Seonghwa’s hand goes to Mingi’s, holding him on his cock for a few seconds, groaning. His shirt has slipped down, one shoulder exposed and the sight is enough to make you want to fuck again. Seonghwa’s head rolls back for a moment, the pleasure overtaking him, momentarily bathed in moonlight. There is something incredibly sexy about watching the two men entwined like this.

Seonghwa snaps to his senses and tugs on Mingi’s hair, pulling him off his cock with a soft pop, a droplet of precum smeared on his bottom lip. Mingi makes a small whining noise, looking upwards at the two of you.

“That’s enough or I’ll end up finishing in your mouth when I’m going to cum in my baby doll’s cunt,” Seonghwa explains to a flustered Mingi.

You cannot help it, even though it might embarrass your best friend further, you go, “I didn’t think you’d be so into sucking my boyfriend’s dick.”

Mingi stammers out gibberish, looking sheepish. Seonghwa says, “Don’t overwhelm him too much or he’ll be too shy to get on his knees again for me. Come on, off the floor. You can watch me fuck her but you’re not allowed to touch yourself, understand, pet?”

He nods quickly. Your best friend is so submissive to Seonghwa that you have a feeling he would agree to anything he told him at this point. Your boyfriend turns his attention to you now, gently pushing your body onto the bed, crawling over you. As he does so, he starts leaving a trail of kisses along your thighs, not caring that Mingi has cum all over them, stopping to lick your clit one single time just to hear you whine as he wiggles your skirt off your body, and then kisses up along your stomach. He bites down on each nipple and then kisses your neck.

Seonghwa’s lips find yours and he nibbles on them with his teeth as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him close. His cock buries in between your folds and he shivers at the sudden warmth, his tongue in your mouth as he pushes inside your pussy. You can feel Mingi’s eyes on the two of you, watching as you take Seonghwa’s dick.

With his hands by the side of your head to prop him up, Seonghwa begins to move his hips. He thrusts slowly and you know it is because he has been turned on for so long that it won’t take him much to finish. Even so, your legs tighten around his waist, driving his cock deeper in your wet hole. He hisses through clenched teeth and stops moving completely.

“You just got fucked, baby doll, and now you’re that anxious for my cock?” Seonghwa teases, his voice low and taunt.

You whimper, trying to wiggle your hips but he still doesn’t move. His eyes are watching your face, taking note of how your expressions change.

“One cock isn’t enough for you. You just had your best friend and you immediately needed mine,” He goes on as your fingers dig into his shoulders in a silent plea to fuck you, “And your friend is just as bad as you because I can tell he’s already having difficult not touching himself.”

You look over at Mingi who is next to you, that same shy and submissive look on his face. He has tugged the bed sheet over his lower half in an effort not to touch himself but it is evident by the tent that he is hard again.

As you study him, Seonghwa thrusts unexpectedly, making you moan, your walls tightening around his cock. Then he goes still again, seemingly just enjoying the sensation of your pussy wrapped around him. He brings one hand to your neck, curling his long slender fingers around it.

“You want to cum again, baby doll?” He asks and when you whimper and nod furiously, he goes, “How do you want it?”

You reach upwards, your own hands wrapping around his. “Hard, fuck me into the mattress.”

“And my hand?”

“Tighten it,” You beg.

Seonghwa gives a curt nod, shifting a little so that he can pound into you at a faster speed. You don’t always ask for him to fuck you like this but you love when he does, when he makes you feel small and fucked out against the bed.

He jerks his hips hard, ramming all the way inside you before tightening his hold on your neck. As he squeezes, he begins to thrust hard and fast. Your legs are locked around his waist, taking his cock deep with each hard buck of his hips.

Seonghwa’s eyes are on you as he fucks your cunt, his breathing growing more ragged as his pace increases. He is chasing his own orgasm, not just yours, and you know that he loves seeing you take his cock like this with his hand around your throat.

“Tell me,” He orders in between his panting, driving his cock in your wet hole fast and hard enough that it sounds obscene.

Your voice is soft from being choked as you reply, “N-need your cum, please.”

He releases his grip on your throat and demands, “Again.”

“I need your cum in me, please, Seonghwa,” You beg, your voice uneven from the pace he slams his cock in you.

His hand tightens around your neck, firmer this time, fucking you so hard that all you can do is take his dick, your body going limp against the thrust of his hips. Seonghwa’s hair has fallen around his face, his pace growing erratic as his own orgasm draws closer.

“You’re such a good girl, you did such a good job tonight, baby doll, that I’ll give you what you want but you gotta cum again first. Mingi,” He snaps out your friend’s name and he is there right away, ready to serve, “I’m going to show you something new about your best friend.”

He pushes away from you, still keeping his cock deep in your cunt, his hands dropping to your waist. The hair that has fallen around his face is annoying him and Seonghwa tries to blow it away impatiently. Mingi hesitantly reaches forward, brushing the hair behind Seonghwa’s ear.

You can practically see your boyfriend making a mental note of the gesture, filing it away as more evidence of just how much your best friend likes him.

“You’re gonna take your fingers and rub her clit as I fuck her,” Seonghwa explains quickly, “Got it?”

Mingi nods, eyes darting at you, taking in how absolutely fucked out you look. Then he brings his hand down to your clit, rubbing it a little.

“Go faster,” Seonghwa commands and without waiting, he begins to pull your hips down, driving his cock deep in you. He repeats this motion faster, his hands squeezing your waist as he bounces you on his length as if you are just a fuck doll for him. Mingi rubs your clit fast and hard, his hand slipping sometimes from the force of taking Seonghwa’s cock. But it is enough that you are immediately overstimulated, your clit already swollen and sensitive. You know what Seonghwa is trying to show Mingi and it only seems to enflame your need to climax.

Seonghwa grunts, driving you down on his length again and again as Mingi works your clit. You groan, your head rolling back, whimpering loudly as your thighs begin to shake.

“Good girl, baby, now show your friend what you do when you cum nice and hard,” Seonghwa is panting now, on the edge himself.

“I want to see,” Mingi speaks suddenly, “I wanna see you cum in her.”

“I know you do, pet,” Seonghwa growls, his motions unrelenting, “But first you’re gonna watch her cum on my cock.”

You groan loudly, whimpering out Seonghwa’s name as your climax begins. Your hips buck, eyes closing tightly as Seonghwa pulls out immediately so Mingi can watch you squirt all over his hand during you climax. You hear him utter a small sound of surprise which only seems to extend your orgasm, your legs shaking as the intense pleasure rolls over your body.

As you wind down from it, Seonghwa brushes Mingi’s hand away and thrusts hard in your cunt, going still and cursing as he begins to empty his full balls inside your hole. You can feel him spilling out, the amount from being turned on for so long overwhelming, your pussy squeezing out every drop until it leaks out of your hole.

Panting, he pulls out, plunging his fingers into your cunt to force his cum back inside. Your body feels as if it weighs a thousand pounds, your head swimming from being fucked from both Mingi and Seonghwa. You still manage to prop yourself up a little, trying to catch your breath.

Seonghwa removes his fingers, slick with your juices and his cum and brings them immediately to Mingi’s mouth. He doesn’t even hesitate, just wraps his lips around your boyfriend’s fingers, cleaning them off. You see how hard Mingi is, his cock stiff from watching the two of you fuck.

Seonghwa notices as well because after he removes his fingers, he spits in his hand and lowers it, wrapping it around Mingi’s cock. The touch makes him groan, in both pleasure and surprise, as Seonghwa begins to jerk him off. With them both on their knees on the bed, Mingi has no choice but to look at your boyfriend, already close to cumming from being touched like this.

“Is that what you wanted, pet, watching me fill your best friend’s pussy with my load?” Seonghwa asks, jerking Mingi off at a steady and fast pace.

“Y-yes,” He gasps out, “Jesus, I didn’t expect – I’m gonna –”

“You didn’t touch yourself the entire time we fucked like I asked so now you get to cum again,” He explains, “Now be a good pet and finish.”

As if on command, Mingi groans, unloading all over Seonghwa’s hand, head bowed as he climaxes. Seonghwa brings his hand to his lips, dragging his tongue across the palm to taste his cum. Mingi stares and even though it is dark, you know he is blushing again.

The rain has slowed to a trickle and it is late in the night. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to and as hot as it is watching your best friend be a submissive mess to your boyfriend, you’re exhausted. Seonghwa slides off the bed.

“I’m cleaning up. Mingi, tuck her in, she’s too tired and needs to sleep.”

Seognhwa leaves for the bathroom and Mingi goes to put the sheets over your body but you sleepily reach out for him. “Get in bed too.”

“What?” He asks, surprised, “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Seonghwa wouldn’t want you to go either,” You mumble, sleep hurrying in.

Mingi pauses for a moment as your eyes close and then you feel him pull back the covers, sliding underneath them. You reach for him, pulling him towards you. Mingi has always run quite warm and now, naked like this, it feels good to be against him. He relaxes slightly as you nuzzle into his chest but you can tell he is unsure of his place here or what has exactly shifted.

A couple minutes later, Seonghwa gets into the bed as well, curling against your back. He kisses your cheek, his lips close to your ear.

“You invite him to stay, baby doll?”

“Yes,” You mumble – or maybe just make a soft noise, you’re so tired that you aren’t sure.

“Is that okay?” Mingi asks, sounding worried. “I can go if…”

“No,” Seonghwa interrupts firmly, “Stay.”

With those words, Mingi finally fully relaxes, one arm resting on your waist as you are smushed between the two men. Seonghwa also brings his arm along your waist, their arms touching as if forming a protective barrier over your body.

It takes you about half a second to fall asleep like that, with your best friend on one side and your boyfriend on the other.

It’s the best sleep of your life.

the end.

#ateez smut #ateez fics #seonghwa x reader #mingi x reader #seonghwa smut #mingi smut #kpop fic #one question #100 notes

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cielie-voss · 4 months

Note

Hey there!

Stumbled across your blog and fell in love with your Eddie Fics! 😍

If you're still taking request, I'd like to request something Rockstar!Eddie x Reader, where Reader works at a bar or cafe and Eddie is on tour with Corroded coffin and meets her at work. She doesn't believe that he's a rockstar and thinks he just wants to impress her until one day, she accepts his silly pickup lines and goes on a date with him.

If you don't like this, it's totally fine. Hope you have some peaceful holidays (and a very unmerry Christmas, absolutely loved this!)

Rockstar!Eddie x fem!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! I'm so sorry it took me so long, I hope you like it! I just wanted to write something short and simple (ha, jokes on me, short and simple seems to be something not possible for me). I had so much fun writing this!

Warnings: Rockstar AU, Fluff, bad pickup lines, idiots in love, mutual pining, Reader is a writer, some petnames, takes place in the 90's. Wordcount: ~8k ("something short and simple") Summary: After some crazy years of university stress, heartbreaks, family problems and the wrong kind of friends, Y/N decided to take a year to discover herself, figure out her dreams and wishes. With her newfound freedom she just wanted to do some Minijobs and travel the world. No university stressing her with exams, no annoying family who's trying to tell her what to do, no backstabbing friends, and most importantly: no dating and no more heartaches. But boy oh boy, she could've never been more wrong. Taglist: @violetmiroh If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗 Masterlist

Finally.

After years of stress and torture you finally found some freedom. You successfully graduated college with your major in literature, ready to enter the real world. And that’s not the only thing you had to master throughout the past years.

“Why don’t you study something useful? Maybe business administration? Or marketing?” Your parents had perfected the game of making your life a living hell. Literature was something useless for them. Something where you would never get a real job. But you wanted nothing less than to write. Write about everything. Poems. Dramas. Novels. You wanted to tell the world about the little stories in your mind. But writing wasn’t a job. At least in your parents opinion.

“Did you meet a nice guy? At least some guy that likes girls who can’t get their noses out of these damn books? Any friends other than Tolkien or Poe?” God, these people are so ignorant. Everytime you visited your family or called them, your mother had another blind date arranged for you.

“You remember Daron? Yeah, the Daron you went to elementary school with. His fiancée cheated on him, you know? He’s such a nice and handsome guy. Why don’t you call him? Wouldn’t it be sweet if you guys meet again after years?” No, mom, that wouldn’t be sweet.

“Oh, honey! I’m so sorry. I totally forgot I asked Fred and his mother to come over for lunch. You remember Fred, right? He used to tease you back in middle school. You know what they say: lovers like to tease each other!” You were glad your mother turned away from you as you were rolling your eyes dramatically. Laughing at her own ridiculous joke, she turned to Fred and his mother.

To be honest, your dating life was just as miserable as it could be. Even without your mothers help. And not because of what you were studying or your interests, like your mother said. Or because of your casual and comfy style or mostly reserved and introverted personality. Your heartaches and frustration with the male gender was mostly due to their immature behavior.

Over the years you experienced nearly all sorts of failed romances. Caught them cheating, being ghosted, unknowingly ended up as a one night stand, being the affair, constant fighting, being rejected and creepy mothers who tried to arrange a wedding after two weeks of going out or guys with a special relationship to their mothers. Some weird Norman Bates kind of relationship. There was even one guy, whom you really liked, that sadly turned out to be gay.

“Why did you have to move so far away?” Well, this one is self-explanatory.

“At least you could call us every second day.” Thanks, but no thank you. You didn’t want to give them another way of terrorizing you with their unrealistic ideas and expectations.

All you wanted was to live your life the way you wanted to, and not how they wanted your life to be. No parents, no stress, and most important: no dating. Just you.

So after you graduated and broke up with the seemingly most perfect guy, who turned out to be a rotten liar and the most unfaithful piece of shit, who didn’t just cheated on you multiple times, but also stole your hard earned money, you decided to take a year off to travel around the world, to find yourself. You sold your car and the stuff you wouldn’t need anymore and with that money, you started your journey.

On your trip you’ve seen the probably most beautiful cities and met even more wonderful people. To afford your stay you worked from time to time in little cafés and lovely bars. In exchange for room and board you worked as a temporary worker on farms. In your free time you sat down and wrote. The people and landscapes were so inspiring, you filled one notebook after another with short stories, poems and even started to work on something that might be your first novel. Every now and then you sent your works to different agencies and participated in writing competitions, improved your writing and earned some reputation for your works.

London was the city you stayed the longest. You stayed with a lovely family, the Bakers, who owned a little pub in the outskirts of London. They treated you like family, like a family you never had but always wished for. You helped them with their household, tutored the kids after school and worked downstairs at the pub in the evening.

When you had a day off, you’d usually sit down at the bar, a pint of ale in front of you, pen in hand. The words seemed to flow right out of your pen, as natural as breathing.

You could’ve never wished for a better time. The Bakers treated you like a daughter they never had, and even the regulars at the pub treated you like one of the Bakers. Between lovely drunken blue-collar workers, who loved to tell their stories and sing their work songs, you felt somehow at home, you felt safe and came out of your shell. With each day you became more extroverted, literally flourishing and bristling with self-confidence.

And it was in that pub where you met the guy in Jean's vest who stood out like a sore thumb in this scenery. From behind the bar you couldn't help but notice how his leg bounced up and down like a nervous child. After some minutes you decided to help him calm down a bit.

“Are you waiting for your date?” With a warm smile you looked down on him.

“Huh?” As if you pulled him out of a trance, he winced and looked at you with a dumbfounded expression. You huffed at his reaction and sat down the pint in front of him.

“I asked, if you’re waiting for your date to show up.” The smile remained on your lips as you looked into his big brown puppy eyes. His eyes darted to the pint you just gently shoved towards him.

“Don’t worry, that’s on the house.” You assured him.

“Thanks, uh … “ Again, like he was in a trance-like state, he shakes his head and looks back at you. “My name’s Eddie.” He reached his hand out to you and you shook it. You noticed the unusual rings that adorned his fingers and the little bats that were tattooed on his forearm. He obviously didn’t belong here.

“Nice to meet you, Eddie. I’m Y/N.”

There was something in the way he looked at you that you couldn't identify. So after a short moment of awkward silence you took a sharp breath in, pulled your lips into a thin smile and said “Anyway, let me know if I could do anything for you. And good luck with that date.” You gave him a wink and turned back to your bar to serve the regulars who are now, bit by bit, rolling along.

As the hours ticked by and the bar settled into its usual hustle and bustle, you found yourself repeatedly returning your gaze to Eddie. Something about his appearance had a mesmerizing effect on you. And there was no way you could say what it was that captivated you.

Slowly he began to warm up a bit, engaged in conversations with some other guests, but without further notice, he also caught himself repeatedly trying to catch a glimpse of you.

“Make sure he gets home safe!”, you called out to the cabbie, a lovely man named Barnaby, after you accompanied a slightly drunk Tommy outside to the cab.

“Y/N, my dearest!” Tommy slurred after you handed him over into Barnaby’s hands. “One day, I promise, I will introduce you to my son! I’ll gladly take you as my daughter-in-law!”

“Go home and sober up, then we’ll see!”, you laughed and waved the drunk redhead, with a face glowing as red as his hair, goodbye.

“Isn’t she just the most loveliest person on earth?” Tommy asked, now turned to Barnaby, who was just smiling and nodding in approval.

Quietly grinning to yourself you closed the door and headed back to the bar. It was already past midnight, the pub slowly became quieter until Eddie was the only one sitting there, his ringed fingers wrapped around his emptied glass.

“I guess it’s time to kindly tell me to fuck off, isn’t it?” You had to admit that Eddie’s puppy eyes made you soft.

You cocked your head and with an apologetical expression you nodded. “I’m sorry, Eddie.”

Eddie just shrugged, a sheepish smile playing around his lips as he carefully slid the glass towards you.

“It’s okay. I’m glad I had the chance to be stood up and get you as my substitute-date.” He got up from the old, shrieking bench, winked at you and left the bar.

“Keep the change, Y/N my dearest!”, he chanted.

Only now did you look down at the glass and saw the bills peeking out from underneath. You wanted to shout out to him “Eddie, I think you made a mistake!”, but he was gone and left you with this lavish tip.

For a moment you stood there, stunned by this man, before Mr. Baker could pull you back to reality. “C’mon Y/N, it’s late, go to bed and get some sleep.” You turned around to face him, the human version of a teddybear, looking down at you with a knowing smile. You quickly took care of closing out the register before stuffing Eddie's tip into the big tip jar.

“No, no, no. You keep that.” Mr. Baker pulled out the bills and handed them over to you. “It’s yours.” And before you had the chance to protest, he patted your shoulder and gently pushed you towards the door that leads to the family’s private apartment.

You tried to find some sleep, but everytime you closed your eyes, you saw this lovely smile and these big round puppy eyes. God damnit! Why did he have to be so cute?

The next morning you pulled out your notebook, after multiple failed attempts to fall back asleep again. Maybe some writing would banish this handsome face out of your mind that kept you awake. But jokes on you!

Your mind always wandered back to this guy, his messy hair, the sloppy smile, the tattoos on his arm, his big, brown eyes … It was enough to drive you up the wall. So instead of accidentally turning the love interest in your little fantasy romance into a copy of Eddie, you put down your writing stuff, took a deep breath and left your room.

When you entered the small kitchen, Penelope Baker, who everyone called Poppy, already waited for you with a knowing smirk dancing around her thin lips.

“Good morning, lovely.”, she chirped, her words underlined with a cheeky undertone that made you stop mid motion. You narrowed your eyes in suspicion and cocked your head before you let yourself down on your chair.

“Good morning.”, you answered with a skeptical frown.

“Coffee?” As if nothing had happened, Poppy offered you the coffee pot. With a nod you cued her to pour the steaming hot liquid in your cup. You thanked her and wrapped your hands around the cup to warm yourself a bit. The smell of this freshly grounded coffee filled your nose and was already enough to wake up your still sleepy mind.

Just as you thought Poppys previous smirk was just another one of her quirky habits and meant nothing, her voice turned into that typical ‘I’m your mother and know exactly what’s going on’-tone as she said “So Theodore told me about that guy last night.”

For a split second you froze, then let out a sighed “Oh my god.”

“What? Teddy said he seemed to like you. Oh lord, isn’t that adorable? A young, handsome, mysterious guy showing up, unexpectedly sweeping this young lady off her feet.” In a dramatic motion she clutched her hands to her chest and jumped out of her chair.

“Oh, young love! I would give anything to feel like this again in my old days.” As if she was dancing with the ghost of a long lost lover, she seemingly floated through the small kitchen.

With a frustrated sigh you buried your face in your hands. Your grumbled “Oh my god” was more embarrassed this time.

“But you do know I’m right here, my love?”, Theodore coaxed, as he leaned back in his chair and watched his wife with a raised eyebrow.

“Tz, I’m not talking about you, Teddy.”, she waved him off.

Sensing the upcoming argument, even if it’s not meant seriously, you grabbed your cup of coffee and sneaked out of the kitchen. “Okay. I guess that’s my cue to leave you two alone.”

The rest of the day you spent with Nathan and Ethan, helping them with their homework. You haven’t met a lot of twins in your life so far, but you never met twins that were so different from each other than Nathan and Ethan, which made tutoring them a real challenge. But sitting between these bickering boys was still a better alternative than being ribbed about Eddie by Teddy and Poppy.

Since it was your day off and you couldn’t focus on your writing upstairs in your little room, you went down into the pub earlier than usual. Your hopes were high that the hustle and bustle around you would distract your mind a bit so you could focus on your writing.

The first few sentences had a hard time coming out. But after you got back into your flow the words came out on their own. That was until you noticed a brown haired figure approaching you out of the corner of your eye.

“Aw, did you miss me?”, you leered and leaned back to face Eddie with a smug grin. “Or do you wanna give your date a second chance?”

“Well, actually,” Eddie declared, nonchalantly dropping into the seat opposite you, “I was just trying to get away from some of these pushy fangirls, you know?”

As if he was discussing the weather, he leaned back, fingers tapping a casual rhythm on the table. “Yeah, sure. Clingy fans,” you joked, closing your notebook and using the pen as a bookmark.

“Listen, being a rockstar isn’t easy when you’re smoking hot like me,” he explained, a self-assured chuckle escaping him as he tilted his chair back, the legs scraping against the floor.

You disappeared behind the bar and met a very amused looking Mister Baker.

With furrowed brows, you leaned to your side in an attempt to peer through one of the beautiful stained glass windows. Eddie followed your gaze, then turned back to you with a puzzled expression after trying in vain to discern what had caught your attention.

"What?" he inquired, reverting to the shy and nervous behavior from yesterday.

You couldn't contain the giggles bubbling out of your chest as you leaned back and faced Eddie again. "Nothing. I was just trying to get a glimpse of all those fangirls you escaped from."

"Oh, great, you're making fun of me," Eddie stated, rolling his eyes.

"C'mon, Eddie. You're trying to convince me you're a rockstar." You waited for a response, anticipating another remark about his alleged status as a musician, but were met with a sulky Eddie instead.

"Okay, I'm sorry, Mister Rockstar," you apologized playfully. "How about a drink? My treat."

"Yeah, whatever," he muttered in an exaggerated pouty manner.

“Don’t you dare say a single word!”, you hissed to the man and to emphasize your statement, you raised a warning finger. Still grinning, he playfully raised his hand, mimicking the action of locking up his lips with an imaginary key.

You poured beer into two pints and placed one of them in front of Eddie.

“Cheers.” With your glass raised for a toast, you added “Let’s start over again. Hi, I’m Y/N.”

His eyes darted between you and his beer until he eventually gave in. “Hi Y/N, I’m Eddie. Nice to meet you.” As you clinked glasses you locked eyes, which unexpectedly sparked something inside of you. Something you couldn’t quite explain, but it felt unexpectedly good.

For the rest of the evening, your intention to continue with your manuscript was completely forgotten and replaced by the desire to talk to Eddie for hours. He asked about your notebook and after you told him that you were about to write a novel, you found yourself in a lively conversation about your favorite authors with him.

You talked about Tolkien, C. S. Lewis, George Orwell, Virginia Woolf for hours without noticing how late it was getting. There was this spark between you and him that ignited a fire within your soul, a fire that became bigger and bigger the more you talked about your interests. And when you spoke, his eyes were literally glued to your lips. You’ve never felt more comfortable in your life than in this exact moment, talking to a stranger about your biggest passion and your dreams to publish your first fantasy novel.

A few more beers followed, Teddy even brought you some snacks. Then Eddie told you about the DnD campaigns he planned and plotted years ago with his friends, his love for Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit and assured you that he’ll be the first one to buy your book. When you told him, you never had the chance to play DnD, because you never really had that kind of friends, something flashed in his eyes.

“You never played DnD?" Eddie's jaw dropped, his eyes widening as if your statement had personally offended his very existence. "Oh, what a shame! Okay, you know what?” His elbows crashed onto the table, and he leaned in so close that you could practically feel the intensity of his gaze. His soft eyes locked onto yours, filled with determination. “I, Eddie Munson, promise you, Y/N Y/L/N, that I’ll introduce you to the world of DnD one day.” With a mischievous smile playing on his lips, he dramatically raised his pinkie for a solemn pinkie promise, an act you sealed with your own pinkie.

“Alright, deal.”, you whispered, absolutely mesmerized by the guy you just met yesterday.

“Deal.” He repeated solemnly.

“Okay, you lovebirds.” Mister Baker's voice interrupted your promise, pulling your attention back to reality. The pub around you was empty and the chairs were already put back on the tables. “I’m really sorry, but my wife will kill me if I don’t close the pub soon.”

With your face blushing with shame you quickly leaned back into your seat and looked away. How embarrassing that must have been to watch. Like you were teenagers again.

Eddie cleared his throat and took a look at the clock. “Oh, shit, yeah. I should go now, my friends are surely wondering where I am. Goodnight, Y/N.” He paused for a moment to look at you one last time before he left the pub in a hurry.

The looks both Mr Baker and Mrs Baker gave you were unequivocally. But in your opinion, they were reading something into your casual conversation with Eddie. Something you didn’t seem to perceive.

The next few days, Eddie found himself inexplicably pulled to that charming little pub, his heart fluttering with excitement every time he spotted your Y/H/C hair behind the bar through the stained glass windows. Without fail, he made his way there each evening, armed with a new and absurd excuse. Sneaking up behind you, he would unleash the most cringe-worthy pickup lines, each one more outrageous than the last. You'd heard your fair share of cheesy pickup lines over the years, but none had ever elicited the same blend of blushes and giggles that Eddie's managed to. It was as if you both had regressed to the age of twelve, sharing a playful banter that was both bad and yet undeniably funny.

As you brought his first pint of beer for the evening, you found him crouched forward in his seat, his face twisted in an exaggerated expression of pain. Concern etched on your face, and with furrowed brows you asked, “Everything's okay, Eddie?” To which he replied with a mischievous glint in his eye, "Do you have a Band-Aid? Because I just scraped my knee falling for you." This unexpectedly caught you off guard, and despite your efforts to suppress them, snickers escaped you, filling the air with shared laughter.

Another very stressful evening, when you passed him with a full tray of empty glasses, he said “Hey, Y/N, you dropped something!”

“Huh?” You promptly came to standstill, the glasses clinking at the abrupt stop, and tried to figure out what you had dropped. But after you couldn’t find a damn thing and slowly became somewhat desperate, you noticed Eddie's lopsided smile. He seemed to be biting back his laughter as he quipped, “My jaw”, and brought that lovely smile of yours back to your lips with this poor attempt at flirting with you.

One evening, you were seated at the bar, leisurely sipping your coke, when Eddie stealthily approached from behind. Gently placing his hands around your waist, he leaned in and whispered in your ear, “You know, with all these secret rendezvous with you, I feel like I’m a spy or something. Hidden identities, clandestine meetings, just you and me, and no one knows about this, far away from the public.”

Playfully, you rolled your eyes and retorted, "Oh, please. You're not James Bond, Eddie."

He chuckled, "I may not be James Bond, but I am a famed rockstar by night.” To make sure no one heard him, he looked left and right, then turned back to you. “Shh, it's a secret!", he whispered and winked at you.

After releasing you, his warm hands leaving a lingering sensation, you sighed and turned your barstool to face him. For a fleeting moment, your gaze flickered to his slightly parted lips, now curled into a smug grin. Looking back into his eyes, you cocked your head and, absolutely unimpressed, countered, "Yeah. Nice try, buddy. You're not fooling anyone with that."

By now, your jokes about him allegedly being a rockstar didn’t seem bother him anymore. No. Instead he chimed in on your jokes, complained about clingy fangirls, unreliable sound engineers, the bad food during their tour. And you laughed at his jokes, thinking he was trying to impress you.

You could’ve sworn he must have heard your heart beating heavily in your chest when, with his hand resting on the counter behind you for support, Eddie leaned forward, nearly brushing your cheek. Just inches away from your face, the sensation of his breath on your skin caused a shudder to run through your body. If you would have tried to stand up, you suspected your legs would give way, as your body inexplicably turned to jelly in the mere proximity of him.

Eddie flashed a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, can't blame a guy for trying, can you? But it seems like it doesn’t necessarily need a secret agent or rockstar to sweep you off your feet, right?" His coarse voice, barely above a whisper, was vibrating in his chest. Chuckling, he leaned back, feigning nonchalance, though a subtle twinkle in his eye hinted at the amusement behind his teasing attempt. As his face, and lips, were outside the danger zone, you noticed that you were straining holding your breath for what felt like an eternity.

“How was your date?” Poppy asked teasingly as you came upstairs one evening. Eddie brought you his copy of The Hobbit and some flowers he picked from some front yard that reminded him of you. The pub was very crowded that evening, so you two decided to just chill in the backyard, counting stars and eating the cookies he brought.

“That was not a date.”, you declared and rolled your eyes.

“Oh. Of course. No date. I understand. Like the other not-a-dates you two had the last couple nights, right?” Poppy winked at you knowingly. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment, so you turned away and took care of the dirty dishes.

One day Eddie came to the pub earlier than usual. The pub wasn’t even open yet. Shaking from the nervousness that filled his body, he paced up and down the sidewalk in front of the pub. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was all nervous and excited like this. A thousand thoughts rushed through his mind, as he waited for you to come down after he rang the doorbell.

“Okay Eddie. Breath in-” He took a deep breath in, “- breath out.” His breath was shaking. And since his attempt at calming himself down didn’t quite have the effect he wished for, he took a long drag from his cigarette, inhaling the smoke that had at least a little soothing effect on his nerves.

“Eddie?” The sudden sound of your voice made him jump, causing you to smile. You stuck your head out of a window and looked down on him.

“Hey, Y/N!”, he greeted you. All of a sudden the words he already laid out in his head vanished into thin air.

“I … Y/N would you … I mean …” Eddie closed his eyes, took another deep breath and gathered his courage. “Would you like to go out with me? Tonight?” With furrowed brows he looked up to you. His heart nearly jumped out his chest as the words left his lips.

“You mean like a date?” The smile on your face grew wider than ever before. “A rockstar is asking someone like me out for a date? Is this some cinderella kind of story?” Your nervous laughter made him hold his breath, expectantly waiting for your final answer. His body tensed up as you finally nodded, accepting his invitation.

“Sure. When and where?”

He smiled from ear to ear as he told you the time and place.

“Alright. See you tonight!” You waved him goodbye and disappeared back into your room.

“Yeah, see you tonight.”, he whispered dreamy with his eyes fixed on your window for a little longer before he turned around and went back to his friends.

“So how’s the no-date-policy going?” Teddy leaned against your doorframe as you turned around, grinning like a highschooler that’s been asked out to prom.

“Oh shut up.”, you laughed in an attempt to hide the blush on your cheeks.

“Hey! Poppy! Guess who has a date tonight!”, Teddy’s voice echoed through the apartment. His words had only just left his lips when Poppy was already standing in your room, seemingly faster than light and with a grin that almost looked scary.

“He asked you out?” But before you could answer, she grabbed you by your hands, pulled you into a tight embrace and swirled you around. “I never thought I could be any prouder as a mother than this.”

“Poppy, she’s not -” Teddy tried to intervene to remind her that you were not their actual daughter. But Poppy, filled with pride, interrupted him.

“Oh shut up, Teddy.”

Still giggling she released you to look you up and down. You were still in your baggy shorts and a faded shirt, that once used to be a blue and violet tie dye. The longer she looked at you, the more you got anxious.

“So … “ she started after a moment. “And what are you going to wear?”

“What?” Her question caught you off guard. You were still busy to not freak out with joy.

“What are you going to wear tonight? Sure you can’t go on a date looking like this, sweetie.” Well, she was pretty damn right with that. In your mind you went through your little options. Because you were often switching between hostels and other places to stay the night, you chose not to carry that much clothing around with you. So most of your outfits consist of simple shirts, most of them already pretty baggy and faded, and some simple jeans. Nothing that you could wear on a date to make a good impression. Well, you honestly didn’t intend to go on dates anyway.

“Oh my god.”, now you have started to freak out. “What the hell am I going to wear?!” With furrowed brows and slightly panicking you looked at Poppy.

“Don’t worry, darling. I got you.” She gently squeezed your hand, then left your room, skipping like an excited child.

“I guess I should leave you two girls alone.”, Teddy whispered to you, somehow happy to leave this intimate mother-daughter moment.

As long as Poppy combed through her wardrobe, you faced the mirror, trying to tame your hair to look nice and girly and not like a crazy witch. Just as you were trying to braid your hair, Poppy came back with a pile of clothes. This might be a more complicated and complex quest than you thought.

You tried on outfit after outfit. Dresses. Skirts with lovely ruffle blouses. Your favorite so far was a dark brown culottes with a fluffy beige blouse. That was until Poppy pulled out a dress, short puffed sleeves, flowy skirt and a lovely floral pattern. You instantly put it on. The fabric was soft and light, the layered dip hem skirt flowed down from your waist like a waterfall of flowers. You never were a fan of these oldschool puffed sleeves, but you had to admit, that these were pretty flattering. Around your waist, the fabric was a bit ruffled up and tightened in your back like a corset. And the neckline was low-cut, but not too revealing.

As you eyed your reflection, admiring how the dress accentuates your favorite features and yet managed to conceal your insecurities, Poppy carefully completed the dress with a cute little necklace.

“You look absolutely stunning!” She stood right behind you with her hands on your shoulders and examined your reflection too, looking like the proud and loving mother you never had.

“Thanks Poppy.” was all you managed to get out at the moment. You never considered yourself good looking, not even close. Instead you always tried to hide your body and your low self esteem. But your new found family taught you in so many different ways how beautiful and stunning you actually were, on the inside as well as on the outside.

It felt like an eternity until it became evening and your long-awaited date with Eddie came closer. Watching the clock hands seemingly move in slow motion, your impatience grew with every second to infinity. Poppy helped you to braid your hair and embellished your french braids with colorful flowers from their balcony.

Every fiber of your body was tense and it was a miracle you managed to walk to your destination. Nervously fidgeting with your ring, you found the place Eddie told you. But to your surprise, it wasn’t a restaurant or bar. It was a nightclub. Every time the door opened, rock music blared outside, then fell silent again when the door closed.

Did he mess up the address? Or did you mess up? Anxious, you verified the address of this place over and over again, finding no mistake, until the ticket taker spoke to you, thinking you were the next in line. “What’s your name?”

Pulled out of your thoughts you looked at him. “What?”

“What is your name, so I can let you in.”, he repeated.

“Oh, Y/N Y/L/N, but I think I got the wrong address, sorry.”

Just as you were about to leave, embarrassed and downhearted, he opened the door for you and the music carried you inside.

As you hesitantly entered the club you simultaneously entered a whole different galaxy. The heavy guitar sounds and fast drums adapted to the fast and nervous beating of your heart. With a loud thud the door slammed shut behind you.

People mostly dressed in black leather jackets or jeans vests covered in patches, pins and studs ushered you further into the club. You let yourself get carried by the wave of metalheads, standing out like a sore thumb with your cute little dress and the flowers in your hair. The masses around you came to a stop and you found yourself in front of a big stage that was covered in red light, a flag hanging on the wall behind the setup that announced a band named ‘Corroded Coffin’.

Squinting your eyes, you tried to find the guy with the wild, brown hair, but to your disappointment you couldn’t find him. After some minutes of desperately searching for that lovely smile, the few lights that tried in vain to lighten up the whole place dimmed and everything fell silent for a moment before some slow and hauntingly beautiful guitar riffs filled the air. Your eyes needed some time to adapt to the darkness around you. The crowd started to cheer frenziedly, jumping up and down uncontrollably as the heavy beats of a drum joined the guitar. Caged in that impetuous jostling, you had to stand on your tiptoes to catch a glimpse of the now partially lit up stage.

And when you caught sight of that wild, dark brown mane, you froze for a second, eyes wide open in shock. “No fucking way”, you mouthed in disbelieve.

The world around you seemed to fall into slow motion as the realization hit you hard. That guy in front of you, believe it or not, was Eddie. Eddie Munson, the guy you randomly met at a pub and made fun of because he claimed to be a rockstar. He was shredding his guitar like a maniac, a burst of energy radiating from him. And just as the crowd was about to freak out with excitement, he grabbed the microphone and, with a contagious enthusiasm, hollered to the crowd, "Alright, folks! Let's make some noise that'll shake these walls! We're here for a hell of a good time, so buckle up and get ready for a wild ride!" The crowd erupted into even louder cheers as the concert kicked off with a surge of electrifying energy.

His eyes were scanning the crowd, desperately looking for your unmistakingly beautiful face. Fortunately his eyes found you, his look a mix of triumph and satisfaction. A silent declaration that spoke volumes, as if to say ‘See, I wasn’t pulling your leg.’ Still in disbelief, you shook your head as you watched him perform with his band.

“In the shadows of the night, where the demons come alive,

Echoes of thunder, a twisted ride, where the fearless dare to strive.

As the spirits intertwine, prancing to a symphony of the dark,

In the heart of rebellion, we leave our lasting mark.”

Even though this wasn't your type of music, the sight of your type of guy performing like he's possessed by the devil himself made the whole show surprisingly enjoyable.

“Rising from the ashes, we're forged in the fire,

restless souls and a rebel's desire,

Riding the storm, breaking the chains.

Legends are born in the heat of the fight,

In the roar of the crowd, where freedom reigns.”

For the rest of the concert, Eddie couldn't take his eyes off you. The sea of leather and denim jeans around you blurred into a viscous, gray mass, completely insignificant to him. All that mattered to him at that moment was you – your smile, outshining any star in the night sky, and your eyes, radiating a warmth that could envelop him even in the darkest of clouds overshadowing his mind.

The thundering beat of your heart, on the verge of explosion with excitement, merged seamlessly with the unexpectedly peppy song. At first, it was just the drums, synced with the slow strumming of the bass, gradually increasing its pace until it abruptly fell silent, giving way to Eddie's voice as he chimed in.

You couldn't have possibly missed the smug grin on Eddie's face, the grin you began to love throughout the past days, as he let his piercing guitar riffs slice through the dense air. The drums and bass seamlessly joined in, weaving together to unveil Eddie's latest song, evidently penned about a certain girl he had met just days ago.

“In a haze of neon lights, the city's heartbeat loud,

A crowded room, lost faces in the crowd.

Then there she stood, a vision rare,

Sweet innocence like the flowers in her hair.”

After they played their last song and the stage was once again covered in darkness, the masses around you, still hyped, rushed outside. Countless thoughts mixed with a wave of overwhelming emotions washed over you, leaving you riveted to the spot, unable to move. But as soon as you caught a glimpse of Eddie's wild mane while he climbed down from the stage, there was nothing that could’ve held you back. With a flock of muttered and incomprehensible excuses gushing out of your mouth, you pushed yourself through the remaining crowd towards Eddie.

“Her laughter echoes, a sweet serenade.

Lost in the moment, nothing else compares.

Her eyes sparkle like stars in the night,

A sweet surrender, everything felt right.

Her words like poetry, a gentle breeze,

In the storm of life, she puts my mind at ease.

In the chaos of life, she's my symphony.”

“Eddie!” A security guard blocked your path, but you exerted all your strength to reach Eddie. “Please, let me through. I know Eddie; we’re friends. Please,” you pleaded, standing on your tiptoes and waving desperately for Eddie to notice you.

“Okay, you lovebirds. Don’t you think we should go somewhere more … quieter? At least with less prying spectators.”, the bassist, a tall guy with a smile sweet as honey which he desperately tried to hide, suggested.

“Nice try. I can’t let you through; the backstage area is just for the band.” The guard attempted to shoo you away, gently restraining you.

“No, you don’t understand. I…” Eddie, prompted by his drummer who pointed at you and the guard, rushed towards you, wearing the broadest smile on his lips.

“Y/N!” The sound of your name startled the guard, who turned his head, sensing trouble he needed to address. Taking advantage of the distraction, without a second thought, you leaped over the barrier.

There was no way anyone could have held you back at that moment.

Everything unfolded rapidly, yet it felt like slow motion as you enveloped him in your arms. His warm hands cupped your face, fingers entangled in your hair. His lips met yours, moving in sync to a silent rhythm set by your connected heartbeats.

“Okay, nothing to see here, guys!” His bandmates pivoted to shield the curious looks of the crowd, slightly bewildered by the unexpected sight of their lead singer's romantic interlude.

“I never thought you would actually come,” he whispered against your lips, breaking the kiss but still cradling your face with his calloused hands. His voice trembled, and you could feel his heart pounding violently against your chest.

“And I never thought you were telling the truth, but here we are,” you retorted, still breathless, earning a laugh from him—a laughter you never wanted to miss in your life again.

“Is this Eddie’s secret girlfriend?” someone screamed excitedly, pointing at you and Eddie.

“Well, does this look like a secret to you?” the drummer huffed, attempting to disperse the onlookers.

With the help of the security, his bandmates managed to give you and Eddie some private space, away from their curious fans. They already suspected something was going on since they couldn’t figure out the reason behind his late night trips or the silly smiles dancing around his lips when he returned to their tour bus. He seemed to be a completely different person after he went out one night after a little argument with their manager. And now they finally had an answer, the answer was right in front of them.

“Yeah, I think Jeff is right,” the drummer agreed. “And don’t you think you should introduce your secret girlfriend to us?” He playfully mimicked quotation marks with his fingers, emphasizing the words with a teasing tone, the rest of the band loudly agreeing. With his arms crossed above his chest and a raised eyebrow, the curly haired drummer, who was wearing a Corroded Coffin shirt underneath a red plaid flannel, nearly squeezed himself between you and Eddie.

Eddie took a deep breath and let go of you, silently cursing his nosy friends for interrupting this intimate moment with you. He grabbed you by your hand, squeezing it gently to, on one hand, assure you that everything is okay since he sensed your unease, but on the other hand to make sure you wouldn’t leave his side.

“Okay, okay.” He rolled his eyes in a playful manner and added "When you finally stop pestering me" like an annoyed parent would to silence their nosy child.

"Okay, let’s go, move, move!" the bassist, Jeff, demanded excitedly, ushering them into the backstage area with animated enthusiasm. You clung onto Eddie as the rest of the band, with combined forces, led you two further into the backstage area.

You spent the rest of the evening with Eddie and his Band, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, you snuggled against his chest. His friends welcomed you with open arms and treated you as one of them, as if you knew each other for years.

As they settled in, the atmosphere turned light-hearted, and this group of grown up adults, famous rockstars, who had momentarily reverted to their teenage selves, cracked one bad joke after another. Eddie's friends wasted no time in sharing embarrassing stories from their shared past, tales that had long been hidden in the recesses of their memories.

Amidst the banter, they found joy in recounting youthful escapades, revealing anecdotes about Eddie that made him both blush and join in the laughter. The tour bus became a time machine, transporting them back to the days of awkward adolescence, with the added delight of sharing these moments with someone who had now become a part of their close-knit circle.

As hours slipped away, the scent of beer and cigarettes lingered in the air, and your adoration for the dorky, brown-haired guitarist only deepened with each anecdote shared by his bandmates.This became one of those core memories that etch themselves into your soul—a source of perpetual joy, belonging, and safety whenever you reflect upon it.

Even though you enjoyed the time you spent with the band, you longed for some time alone with Eddie. The earlier kiss lingered, leaving a sweet longing in its wake, the taste of him remaining on your lips. Each and every time you caught a glimpse of his lips, your heart seemed to skip a beat and a cozy warmth spread within you as the memory of his lips moving against yours flashed through your mind. And it was no different for Eddie.

Gareth noticed the looks you shared, your nonverbal conversations, not knowing how to get away from the boys for some alone time. So he did what every best friend would do.

“Alright guys.” He clapped his hands, gaining everyone's attention. “I think we should give our lovebirds some time for themselves.” As he stood up, he winked at Eddie, who, in return, mouthed a relieved ‘Thank you’. Before you and Eddie left them, everyone hugged you goodbye, like you’ve always been friends.

You stumbled out of the bus, still laughing and grinning like a teenager. The cool air of the night let shivers wash over your body, which Eddie noticed instantly. Like the gentleman he was, he put his jacket around your shoulders and placed a kiss on the crown of your head, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. You pulled him into a tight embrace, never wanting to let him go, your fingers buried in his still sweaty shirt. But you didn’t mind. He was yours and you were his. That was all that mattered in that moment. His hands slowly wandered up and down your back, his fingers gently painting little circles on your skin.

“I’d love to take you out on a date sometime. A real date.” With his hands cupping your face, he looked down into your eyes. His expression was soft, almost sad at the thought of leaving you soon.

You melted under his touch, a sensation you'd never experienced before. No one had ever made you feel this way, and dreaming of such a connection was something you'd never dared. Surprisingly, Eddie managed to make you forget about your self-imposed "holy oath" against dating again—a so-called no-date policy that now seemed nothing more than a ridiculous joke.

“Come on, sweetness. Let’s get you home,” he whispered after what felt like an eternity. Reluctantly, you agreed and sighed as he broke the embrace. Slowly, you walked back home, taking some detours to prolong the precious moments with him.

Beneath the cloudless night sky, with the moon casting its enchanting glow on the Thames, turning its surface into an ocean of little, shiny diamonds, you felt like you were living in a dream. The most beautiful dream you never wanted to wake up from. All the way back to the pub you talked about home, his tour, your plans for the future, and your plans for whatever that was you two had going on.

With a heavy heart, you sauntered through the small alleys, cast in the dim light of old lanterns, drawing closer to the pub where your little story began. Soon, you recognized the green and brown stained glass windows of the pub, illuminated by the fairy lights Poppy insisted on decorating them with. You knew that Poppy and Teddy would probably be worried about you since it was getting pretty late, but you still didn’t want to leave Eddie's side.

“Whenever and wherever you want,” you promised, giving him a reassuring smile. “I can’t wait to spend more time with you.” You reached up to him, your fingers combing through his soft hair, and gently kissed him again. Eddie's tensed body relaxed under your touch, and you thought you heard a soft moan leaving his chest as he pulled you closer to deepen the kiss.

Suddenly, a shrill screeching cut through the silence, abruptly interrupting your kiss. “Teddy! Teddy, they’re kissing! Oh my god!” Poppy’s excited voice echoed from the small balcony, where she must have been watching the two of you, causing you both to break out in laughter.

“I bet she won't give up until I tell her every single detail about tonight,” you whispered, placing another kiss on Eddie's rough lips.

“Please don’t give this old lady a heart attack with your lewd disclosure of our little romance,” he admonished in a playful way between kisses.

“Teddy! Hurry up! They’re kissing again! Oh, sweet, sweet young love!” her voice filled the air again.

“Jesus Christ, she’s worse than all of those pushy fangirls,” he joked, earning a laugh from you.

“Yeah, sure, Mister Rockstar.”

“What? Don’t believe me?” He looked down at you, something provocative flashing through his eyes.

“Well, maybe I would believe you if you take me to one of your shows, Mister Rockstar,” you winked back at him, a smug grin dancing on your lips before he could kiss it away.

___________

If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗

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bp-zb1fics · 1 year

Text

Tall & Handsome & wants birthday kisses

pairing: ricky x reader

genre: highschool au (same verse as shy, shy, shy), fluff, romantic tropes

tw/tags: longtime friends, birthdays, coming of age vibes, a lot of banter, feels, cuteness, vandalism of school property, gyuvin will be fine, violent thoughts that are mostly unserious, many kisses, rizzky

wc: 1128

summary: for ricky, the best birthdays are spent with you

a/n happy ricky day~ little late here but it's 520 somewhere ~

Read part 1 here~

“You know I’m going to miss you right?”

You’re 12. It’s Ricky’s last birthday with you before his family moves and puts oceans and time zones between your friendship.

“We have each other’s SNS,” he points out. “You already made me promise to send pictures when the plane lands. Don’t make it weird.”

“But I will,” you insist. “I’m just saying, you know, it’s going to be weird not seeing your ugly face all the time.”

“You’re ugly,” he retorts because puberty is starting to get to the both of you, making it awkward and strange in ways where only you can understand what the other is going through.

“I hope you stay ugly forever.”

“Take that back.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Nope.” You have the audacity to make a face at him.

“Take it back.”

“Okay, tell me you’ll miss me too.”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying.”

“Say it or I won’t take it back and you’ll just be ug-”

“Okay, okay, fine.”

You look at him expectantly, arms crossed over your chest with the most infuriating expression that a 12 year old can muster on your face. He takes a deep breath, staring back at you.

“I’ll miss you.”

“Really? Is that it?”

“Did you ask me to say anything else? I said it.” Okay fair enough.

“Fine. I knew you’d miss me anyways.”

God, you’re annoying. It’s even more annoying when you give him your gift and it’s an amazingly huge sketchbook along with a pizza-themed birthday card where you’ve written too many words for him to even read in one sitting. And it’s the most annoying when Ricky gets off the plane and he’s in his new bedroom in his new house and he realises that-

-well, he actually really misses you too.

__________________________________________

“Happy 16th, Ricky-ah!”

It’s been four years since Ricky’s had a birthday with you beyond the greeting messages you’d send, maybe a short call if the timing is right.

It’s absolute chaos. (But that’s mostly Gyuvin and Junhyeon’s fault)

Somehow, they’ve managed to turn his desk into a- he didn’t even know what to call it. Black construction taped over the top, someone (definitely Gyuvin) managed to hang silver streamers right from the ceiling above and his chair completely covered in gold foil and shiny red cellophane in some sort of convoluted throne.

They also tried to surprise him when he walked into the classroom but jokes on them, Ricky learned how to hold a poker face and keep himself from flinching a long time ago. Probably from that time when you were 10 and made a game out of who could give each other the bigger scare. It was stupid. So stupid that Ricky decided to learn how to do that because you were so cute when you were frustrated.

Oh cute what? He’s pretty sure 10 year old Ricky didn’t have any reasoning like that.

He’s just letting you put that silly plastic crown on him because he’s nice and it’s been awhile and he doesn’t want you whining about it to him the whole day. Nevermind that the look he gives Gyuvin promises blood, murder and death if the other boy so much as said anything.

(Gyuvin says something anyway, Ricky’s really going to punch him one day no he isn’t )

You even get him one of those little cakes from that convenience store and cafe near your school. It’s your lunch break and you’re leading the birthday song, sitting across from him, clapping your hands as Gyuvin, Junhyeon and even Gunwook decide to try and do their own harmonic rendition.

“Make a wish, Ricky-ah~”

Maybe Ricky’s definitely deaf from Junhyeon’s creative decision to belt the song out at maximum volume. Maybe his fist is twitching in an effort to resist the urge to sock the shit-eating grin off of Gyuvin’s face. But suddenly, all he can see is how your eyes shine, even if that’s probably from the light or the glow of the candle.

Ricky makes a wish and he realises that-

-well he might actually like you more than he thinks. (And by more than he thinks, yes, like more than friends).

__________________________________________

“So now will you tell me what birthday gift you want?”

Your boyfriend gives you that coy look which honestly, you don’t know how he’s capable of doing at your young age.

It’s been pretty great so far. You had birthday lunch with the dog mafia, their unofficially adopted children and a few other friends at Ricky’s favourite pizza place. And you’ll have dinner with his family later.

Right now, you’re at his house, lazing the afternoon away because Ricky had insisted on spending time together, just the two of you. Honestly, you’re pretty sure he was about one more side comment away from actually strangling Gyuvin if you hadn’t tugged him away.

“Remember when I turned 12 and you called me ugly?”

“Eh, all of a sudden?”

“You never took it back.”

The incredulity of your stare is very much felt by both of you. Dumbfounded, literally.

“What- are you- is this for real? You’re kidding me right?”

He takes your hands in his, pulling you towards him so you’re staring right at each other. You tilt your head back, seriously he needs to stop with the rizz.

“Take it back.”

“Seriously?”

“Take it back.”

“Okay, okay I'll take it back. God, anything else you want?”

He leans in, pressing his lips to yours. You jump a little, not exactly expecting that. And then you melt. He pulls back, leaving a hint of strawberry and the smell of his cologne.

“19.”

“What?”

“I want 19 of that for my birthday.” He’s managed to keep a completely straight face but you have eyes and the pink on his cheek and at the tip of his ears is definitely not a trick of the light. Well, two can play a game.

You lean forward, cup his face in between your palms and peck him on the nose a few times, giggling.

One. Two. Three. Four.

You press light ones over each eyelid, propping yourself up to kiss his foreheads, littering small ones all over his cheeks.

Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Four-

Maybe you lose count at some point, your lips lingering over his, soft and sweet. You playfully bite at his bottom lip before pulling back to look at him. He’s definitely trying not to smile too much.

“For the record, I never really thought you were ugly.”

“I know.” Your nose scrunches up and he kisses the corner of your mouth.

“You’re lucky it’s your birthday”

“Ah, so can I have 19 more?”

Honestly? He can have all the kisses he wants. Even on days that aren’t his birthday.

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urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites · 12 days

Note

I love your writing sm <33. I was wondering if you do greasers gang with androgynous s/o? (Kinda like angel from everyone hates Chris) If you don't like the idea, feel free to ignore this 🫶🏽

I get what you mean! I’m non binary and pretty androgynous most of the time/switching from masc to fem and thank you so much for the compliment and yeah I love this idea!!

The Gang x Androgynous!GN! S/O!!!

Ponyboy Curtis

-he thought you were super interesting

-he loved your androgynous look

-he thought is was super cool that you could do all sorts of things

-masc and fem, fem, masc, or neither

-he also gets being made fun of for being different

-but the thinks you’re way too good for him and too cool to talk to him

-but one day you guys get assigned to do a class project together

-and actually get along pretty well and become good friends

-he’s one of the few greasers that wouldn’t need to be in a modern au to respect your identity and pronouns

-he ends up eventually asking you out

-he’s super supportive of you and always tries to learn more about you

Johnny Cade

-you rocked his world when he saw you

-he thought you and your style was pretty unique and tuff

-he immediately couldn’t tell what your gender was, which intrigued him

-you mastered both so well

-you seemed too superior, too good for gender (relatable 😏😎 jk mostly)

-but he’s too scared to actually go up and talk to you

-until one day you’re being made fun of by some other grease gang

-and he stands up for you, and you’re pretty grateful

-and you both start talking

-eventually you end up dating

-he’s supportive and even gives into the more androgynous look himself

-like I think he might start wearing eyeliner or sum, trying to mix a bit of fem into his outfits

-ok i will say this every time but JOHNNY CADE IN EYELINER I NEED IT IN MY LIFE

-I think he’s the most androgynous greaser himself in general

Sodapop Curtis

-he loves your style

-it’s so cool and he wishes he could be more like that

-but he’s too scared about what others will think

-and he really admires you

-he’s surprised when he finds his eyes trailing off you whenever you leave the DX after buying something

-pretty soon after talking about you to Steve he realizes he likes you

-so he gets to know you and asks questions about your style

-he LOVES how you can be neither masc nor fem, or both

-you can switch in the blink of an eye

-it keeps him on his toes

-pretty soon you end up dating

-soooo cute together yall are always showering eachother in praise and compliments

Darry Curtis

-he’s a traditional guy

-so seeing you

-rocks his world a bit

-I mean he can’t tell if you’re a broad or guy

-and that is fascinating to him. And terrifying

-he’s a little wary of you at first

-but eventually grows to really admire you

-and after some encouragement from pony and soda he finally starts up a conversation

-pretty soon you two start dating and are really good for eachother

-pony and soda love you

Dallas Winston

-he probably went up to you

-made some rude ass transphobic joke

-and it took him by surprise when you kicked him hard in the nuts

-he kinda respected after that

-he sort of expected you to be weak because of how you dressed

-he actually started being friends with you

-and protecting you from bullies

-eventually he asks you out and for once in his life he’s nervous

-you grin and say yes

-you guys are such a surprising couple everyone sees you and is like

how tf did that happen

Two Bit Mathews

-he actually loves your style

-he makes jokes about it because

-it’s two bit

-what do you expect

-but they come across as actual questions too 💀😭

-“So what gender did you decide on today?”

-“If I were you I’d be panicked over what restroom to use…”

-“So do I need to call you a bastard or bitch?”

-but he’s so silly

-at first you’re offended by some of his jokes but then you realize he’s not genuinely transphobic it’s his nature

-and you start roasting him back

-when you start dating you guys are such soulmates

-everyone ships you two and the banter you have in class if fuckin COMICAL

Steve Randle

-he’s surprised to say the least

-he’s used to heavy gender stereotypes

-so whenever you walk into his life

-showing up looking like a doll one day

-a mafia boss on the other

-it trips him up

-it’s kind of confusing for him at first and he may act sort of cold and unsure towards you

-but after a while he gets used to it

-and actually tried getting to know you instead of judging how you look

-and you’re actually a super cool person and it makes him appreciate your identity and style so much more

-soon he realizes he feels a bit more than friendly for you

-and asks you out

-he’s really protective and anyone who says shit about your style can find their tires slashed the next day 😊

#urlocalnonbinarybastardwritesanswers #the outsiders hcs #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #johnny cade #sodapop curtis #darry curtis #dallas winston #two bit mathews #steve randle

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watatsumiis · 1 year

Note

I honestly adore your bitey series, and saw your suggestions were open. Do you mind if I suggest Arlecchino, Beidou, Hu Tao, Rosaria, Yanfei, Kuki, and Ganyu for the Bitey Series? I'm super interested in your hc ideas gkjddfgkl (Don't feel bad if you wanna not write for some of the characters I just listed gjkfdkfjgljk I just went with six because each of your bitey posts also have six so I used it as a baseline jkfgjkdgjk) I hope you're having a good day/night!

Thanks so much for the request!! I’m more than happy to do this, I really had a lot of fun writing the bitey reader series, something about it just makes my little heart happy <3 It seems like you actually submitted seven here, which is alright!! Thank you for noticing about the number of characters i usually have per post, it means a lot to me kjdkdfs

I think i may have to give Yanfei, Shinobu and Ganyu a miss for now since I’m not familiar at all with writing them, but I’ll keep them on my list, don’t worry!

Content: Gender neutral reader who bites as a sign of platonic affection.

Arlecchino is used to being bitten. She works with children who will bite for a large myriad of reasons. She may not like it, but she understands it comes from a place of not being able to verbalise a certain emotion. At first she’ll be concerned that there’s something wrong, and will try to pinpoint what it is. Eventually, she’ll move on to being mildly annoyed, shooing you off, and then finally just settling for it and realising it’s just a way of you asking for attention. If she’s busy, she may brush you off and move away, but she’ll make a note to give you the affections that you’re pining for when she has a moment. If you have a particularly close relationship with her she’ll let it fly if she knows you’ve had a bit of a rough/long day.

Beidou finds it kind of funny, though she doesn’t entirely understand it. She’ll just laugh like you’ve told her some kind of hilarious joke, shaking her head and tutting her tongue as she pats you on the head and jokes that some kind of shark or something must’ve gotten on board while her back was turned. Though if you consistently do it, she may ask if you’ve gotten into the liquor (she’s got a few crew members who get a little… bitey, once they’ve had a few drinks), or kind of semi-awkwardly try to redirect you onto something (or someone) else. Eventually she just resigns to her fate though, and you get to nibble on her to your heart's content! She’ll just sort of phase it out after a while.

Hu Tao kind of adores it - she lives for non-traditional acts of affection and the like, so will almost immediately try to get you back. She’ll turn it up a notch and just CHOMP down on you, giggling all the while. She thinks it's a very silly and fun way of communicating affection, and it feels strangely natural to her, as do most ‘unorthodox’ ways of making people know how much she likes them. She’s fairly well known for doing things like this in her own unorthodox way, and once she knows you're open to it, you'll often find yourself on the receiving end of one of her rather 'quirky' ways of showing affection, which include tying things to the ends of your hair (usually ribbons, feathers or charms for warding off spirits or bad luck), pocketing some of your belongings while you're not looking or just grabbing ahold of you or your clothing and clinging tight.

Rosaria is entirely baffled, and maybe even a little offended. She’ll pull away sharply and give you a stern look, but won’t directly say anything about it. If you try again, you’ll earn an annoyed sigh. Repeated attempts will reward you with progressively more annoyed reactions, eventually escalating to you getting bopped (mostly gently) on the head with a book or paper she has on hand. After that, if you do it again, she can and will just walk away. She doesn’t understand and doesn’t really have a heavy desire to try and understand - all she knows is that it’s bothering her and she doesn’t like it. If you're in a situation that she isn't able to walk away from, you'll likely find yourself getting scolded or grumbled at - don't get too upset though, she isn't really that mad, and will forget about it pretty quickly.

Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagarise my writing! This includes posting translations to other sites.

#asks #bitey reader series #bitey reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin self insert #my writing #genshin headcanons #genshin fluff #platonic genshin x reader #rosaria #rosaria x reader #hu tao #hu tao x reader #beidou #beidou x reader #arlecchino #arlecchino x reader

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moonbeamjeon · 2 years

Text

When You Bias Someone Else [Reaction]

Pairing: all members x gender neutral reader

Genre: crack mostly and fluff

Word count: 3.0K

Summary: your boyfriend makes the discovery that he is not your bias, jealous fluff, pouting, and dramatics ensue

Warnings: slight angst, alcohol drinking in Jimin’s. Everyone else’s just jealousy? I guess but it’s brief and lighthearted

A/n: I’m sad about y’all know what and decided to post this silly little thing I’ve had in my drafts forever. It’s all fluff, all dumb, I hope y’all enjoy it :) and if you have requests please let me know, I’m so bad at ideas but I want to write, you know?

Seokjin

- Seokjin asks you after seeing a Weverse comment speculating on who your bias is. The post shows how you interact with all of the members and makes strong points for each one.

- Honestly Seokjin expects you to say it’s him, of course. So imagine his surprise when you say it’s none other than the maknae himself. Seokjin is outraged, offended even. Because how dare you bias Jungkook??? The boy he raised himself???

- Seokjin spends a passionate fifteen minutes pointing out every behavior and habit Jungkook has that was picked up from him.

- You listen, only growing fonder as Seokjin rants. You can’t help it. Jungkook is adorable. You’re completely uninterested in him as a romantic partner but as your bias? Your attitude leans more toward “Sign me the fuck up ✅🔥💯💯😩💯💯😩🔥✅😩💯🔥✅😩✅🔥🔥✅💯✅”

- When Seokjin finishes, he turns back to you, wanting to hear what you have to say for yourself.

- His entire argument crumbles when you turn your phone toward him and say, “But Jinnie, he’s so cute!”

- On your screen is a compilation of clips from Jungkook’s most recent vlive. In the video, Jungkook jokes with the fans, throws out some English phrases and generally makes eating a salad with no dressing feel like a prime time broadcast.

- And maybe, perhaps, Seokjin can see why you’re so fond of Jungkook. After all, that is the boy he grew up alongside and despite their relatively small age difference, he feels like a sort of parental figure for him sometimes. So, yes, a compilation of his dongsaeng’s cute antics makes any jealousy (real or exaggerated) fade away instantly.

- “I’m still more handsome,” Seokjin blurts out.

- You snort. “I meannnnnn…”

- Seokjin lets out a noise of pure indignation, his neck and face turning rosy. “Take it back! I’m more handsome!”

- You never miss a chance to tease your boyfriend, so you can hardly be blamed for the slightly patronizing tone in your voice. “Yes, Jinnie. You’re way more handsome than Jungkook.”

- Seokjin narrows his eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

- You laugh and Seokjin turns away, ignoring you completely as you try to talk to him, to your never ending amusement.

- Seokjin only stops sulking when you promise that you only love him and that Jungkook is way too young for you anyway.

Yoongi

- As the calm, cool, rational man he is, Yoongi isn’t bothered. Really, he isn’t.

- Was he surprised when you told him that Taehyung was your bias? Maybe. Is he bothered? Nope! Not one bit!

- He isn’t bothered when you and Taehyung become thick as thieves, laughing and joking with each other whenever you’re in the same room.

- He isn’t even bothered when you buy little matching Taehyung and Yoongi decals for your army bomb, because at least they’re even.

- Yoongi is a little bothered by Taehyung taking your confession, if you can call it that, as permission to be more affectionate toward him. It’s not that Yoongi necessarily minds Taehyung’s constant barrage of hugs or touches, it’s just a lot sometimes.

- But even that pales in comparison to when Yoongi overhears Taehyung say that Yoongi and him are “sister-wives”

- “WE’RE WHAT?” Yoongi bursts into the room where Jimin is doubled over in laughter.

- Taehyung turns, completely unruffled and says matter-of-factly. “You know, since you’re her boyfriend but I’m her bias. Sister-wives.” He nods to himself, an expression that you’ve only referred to as the “TaTa mic face”—whatever that means—on his face.

- Yoongi drags you into the room, demanding that you tell Taehyung that he and Yoongi are not sister-wives.

- You're laughing so hard that tears are streaming down your face, one hand clutching Yoongi’s shoulder to keep you steady. Taehyung has a shit-eating grin on his face. Yoongi rolls his eyes and storms out because he can’t believe the two of you are this annoying.

- You eventually find Yoongi in his studio, pretending to work on music.

- He tries to ignore you but one pout and he’s sighing, opening his arms so you can cuddle him. You don’t hesitate, snuggling up to your boyfriend and humming in contentment.

- “Sister-wives,” he snorts. “I’m done letting you show Taehyung English reality tv shows.”

- “I didn’t think he’d use it like that!”

- Yoongi wrinkles his nose cutely. “And wouldn’t we be brother-husbands?”

- “Oh my god, do not call yourself that!“ you giggle wildly while a self-satisfied grin grows on Yoongi’s face.

- “And besides,” you say, leaning in to press a kiss to Yoongi’s lips, “You’re the only husband I’d ever want.”

- The words are honest but lighthearted. You’ve both made jokes here and there about getting married before but only in passing.

- Your sentence gone from your mind quickly, but it sticks in Yoongi’s, staying at the forefront along with the knowledge of the small, velvet box sitting in the desk right behind him, inches away from your unsuspecting figure.

- And suddenly, it doesn’t matter who your bias is, or what Taehyung calls himself (although Yoongi would prefer to never hear the term sister-wives again) because at the end of the day, Yoongi knows you’ll say yes to becoming his forever.

Hoseok

- You should have known to never confess.

- Or at least to lie and choose someone else.

- Because if there’s one thing Seokjin is not, it’s subtle.

- After one-too-many drinks at Hoseok’s birthday party, you found yourself admitting that Seokjin was your bias.

- It would have been fine were Seokjin not in ear-shot.

- Since then, you’ve never known peace.

- The terror known as Kim Seokjin never misses an opportunity to flaunt his status as your “favorite one.” Something that Hoseok finds absolutely hysterical.

- You’re happy Hoseok isn’t bothered but at the same time you kind of wish he was????

- Maybe not steaming mad, but maybe just a little jealous.

- Because the reality is so much worse.

Instead of being upset about your bias, Hoseok has joined forces with Jin to tease you endlessly about it.

- Jokes day in and day out.

- “Oh listening to Moon? I didn’t know you loved Seokjin so much.”

- “Arson on repeat? No love for your bias I see.”

- During concert practices, Seokjin will blow kisses directly at you, and point at you whenever a song has particularly romantic lyrics. Hoseok will pretend to “defend your honor” before they both dissolve into laughs. Your scowls and glares do nothing except invite further antics.

- Truthfully, Hoseok can hardly find it in himself to be jealous when you act like you’ll die if you aren’t giving him affection at least 23 hours of the day (not that he minds).

- You’re also quick to soothe any worries he may have about your relationship and your feelings toward him.

- Overall, more than finding it funny, Hoseok is just glad that you feel comfortable enough around the other band members to have a running gag like this and vice versa. It’s tough to be the partner of an idol and little things like this make it more bearable and help you feel like you belong.

- And it’s moments like these, when Hoseok finds you sleeping on the couch, your lock screen lighting up with a picture of him as he pauses your music, that all of his worries slip away.

- It doesn’t matter that on the stage you swoon at Jin, the idol, because here, in private, at home, it’s just him, Jung Hoseok, and you, the love of his life.

Namjoon

- As the member who has talked a lot about the split between RM the performer and Kim Namjoon the human, Namjoon wouldn’t be bothered if you biased someone else.

- He’d understand that you can love the idol persona of someone without necessarily being in love with them as a person.

- It also doesn’t hurt that you bias Hobi, the other 94 liner and another rapper. Namjoon thinks it’s neat that his bestie and his partner get along so well.

- That is until you see J-hope perform a solo stage.

- Suddenly, you’ve disappeared from Namjoon’s side and he finds you gushing over the performance to none other than Hoseok himself.

- Which wouldn’t bother him except that now he has no one to ask for a good luck kiss before his own stage :(

- (and no he will not take Taehyung up on his offer 🙄)

- If Namjoon felt that you were fawning a little too much he’d get a little possessive.

- Walking over to where you are, hugging you from the back. “It’s almost my turn, my love. Won’t you wish me good luck?”

- Of course, Hobi would see right through him and laugh his ass off. He wouldn’t be bothered at all, only finding it a little funny because while you may gush over his own performance, even that is dim in comparison to the way you get when you talk about Namjoon.

- You would let Namjoon drag you away, pressing a quick kiss to his lips and wishing him good luck before he ran out onto the stage.

- When Namjoon walked off, he’d see the pride and awe in your face, the way your face split into the one of widest smiles he’d ever seen from you and he’d realize he didn’t care who your bias was because the love in your eyes as you look at him means so much more.

Jimin

- You were hesitant to tell Jimin the truth. Not because he was the jealous type, but because you knew he was a little more sensitive than some of the other members might be about this type of thing.

- His self image and perceived worth were heavily influenced by how much other people—especially you—liked him. A side effect of being the last trainee to join BTS, and having to fight tooth and nail to debut at all, Jimin spent his formative years striving to prove that it was the right choice.

- Being liked meant a lot to him because it felt like vindication. You knew that it was something he’d worked on getting over but sometimes those feelings decided to rear their ugly heads and you’d be devastated if you were the cause.

- So, yeah, you were a little hesitant to tell him that he wasn't your bias.

- But one night, after a few drinks, Jimin asked you. In your tipsy state, you didn’t hesitate to say, “Suuuuga! Min Yoongi!”

- Jimin’s pretty mouth fell open in shock. “Yoongi-hyung?!”

- “You and Yoongi. MiniMini.” You said with a giggle. You conjured up an image of the man in your mind. You’d seen him just the week before, practicing some new choreography. You pouted. “I think he’s cute :(“

- “I think you’re cute,” Jimin said, words slightly slurred. He pouted too, eyes looking down at you in faux-sadness. “But you think Yoongi-hyung is cuter.”

- “Minie, no!” You practically lunged at him, grabbing his round cheeks with both hands and pressing quick, soft kisses to his lips.

- Jimin—who had been perfectly fine this entire time—grinned so wide that his eyes were crescents in his face.

- “You’re the cutest! Yoongi who? Suga what? The only Minie I know is Park Jimin.”

- Jimin wrapped his thin, muscular arms around you with a laugh, his drunken little giggles so endearing that you felt like your heart might burst. He gifts you with a soft kiss, the sugary taste of his mixed drinks lingering on his lips.

- “It’s okay, my love. I think Yoongi-hyung is cute too.”

Taehyung

- Confessing was your first mistake. Confirming was the final nail in your coffin.

- “Oh?” Taehyung’s voice rang out. “Did you say Kim Taehyung? I think I misheard you.”

- You should have backpedaled there, maybe agreed that it was the wrong name. Instead, you replied “Nope.” Popping the “p” for extra emphasis. “I said Kim Namjoon. You know, your leader. RM. #1 rapper in my heart.”

- Taehyung’s gaze darkened the more you said about Namjoon.

- You couldn’t help it. Taehyung looks so adorable when he pouts.

- “Is one Kim not enough for you?” He snaps, gesturing to himself. “You need our leader too? Why don’t you just take Seokjin while you’re at it.”

- You pretend to think about it. “Hmmmm…the leader AND the visual? I just might have to.”

- “Do not dare!”

- Safe to say, Taehyung was jealous. Not in any real, substantial way but sometimes when he was in the mood to be smothered with affection and didn’t want to ask for it, he’d slip in a comment about how you must wish you were with Namjoon.

- It never failed to make you laugh and reach for him instead, kissing and cuddling and doing whatever it took until a smile broke out on Taehyung’s face.

- It all comes to a head when you attend their practice for their online Map of the Soul concert.

- Despite the less than ideal circumstances, all of the members were excited to perform some of their songs for the first time.

- Taehyung had narrowed his eyes at you and said he’d be listening closely for your cheers during Inner Child. The accusatory note in his voice pulled a laugh out of you.

- During their group performance of Ddaeng a few years back, you were in the crowd. To this day, Taehyung swears that your cheers were louder for Namjoon’s part than his. It didn’t matter that you were one of thousands, Taehyung has continued to stay firm in his idea that he can “pick out” your cheers and that he found them lacking.

- Bemused, you crossed your fingers across your heart and swore up and down that your cheers for his solo stage would be deafening.

- Now, you’re watching happily as the rappers practice Ugh!

- When it ends you cheer quietly with everyone else as you all mind the cameras and mics that are still recording.

- A blur of blue runs past and before you know it, Taehyung is rushing up to the stage, practically vibrating with excitement.

- Your mouth falls open as Taehyung presses a kiss to Namjoon’s cheek before rushing away, leaving his hyung blushing and bashful.

- “And I’m the traitor,” you tease as Taehyung comes back.

- Taehyung waves you away, a faint blush on his cheeks at having been caught fanboying so clearly. “I’m just congratulating my hyung on a great job.”

- You laugh, knowing that while he may deny it, Taehyung is just as Namjoon biased as you are 🙄

A/n: Everyone gets a silly gif except these two because what am I looking at?? These two have never let me know peace. Like can y’all just kiss already 🙄

Jungkook

- It all started with an album.

- A plain, unassuming BE album that Jungkook had brought you one day. It wasn’t even out in stores yet but he’d managed to snag a promotional one from the BigHit offices for you.

- You both knew Jungkook was able to provide you with any BTS photocard with a simple phone call, but he also knew that you, like most other armys, enjoyed the small thrill of opening the album for the first time and seeing who you pulled.

- He handed you the thin, white box (not even the deluxe edition!) and all hell broke loose.

- Grinning happily, you tore the plastic and immediately looked for the small, square card.

- Jungkook saw your eyes light up.

- “Oh my god!!! I got my bias!”

- Jungkook leaned over to see—

- “Jimin?!”

- You froze, eyes darting over to his outraged face.

- “I’m not your bias?!?!?!?!?”

“Well, uh, you see…”

- “I can’t believe it,” Jungkook said in mock hurt.

- “Bam!” He turns to the dog that is lying peacefully on the sofa, completely unbothered. The large Doberman doesn’t even turn his head at his name, used to Jungkook’s and your antics. “Tell her she can’t do that to me.”

- Bam pays Jungkook absolutely no mind as he yawns and relaxes further into the cushions.

- You scoff, adding fuel to the fire just for fun. “Bam’s bias is Jimin too.”

- Jungkook narrows those big doe eyes at you in accusation. “What does Jimin have that I don’t?”

- “Jungkook! Have you heard Filter?”

- Jungkook scoffs. “Have you heard Euphoria?”

- “Serendipity?”

- “Begin!”

“Promise??? Jimin really wrote that just for the fans 🥺”

- “Still with you?????? I literally wrote that for you!”

- You huff, setting down the album and, to Jungkook’s eternal frustration, very gently placing the photocard next to it.

- “Jungkook,” you try again, knowing that he’s so easy to rile up. “Jimin’s got abs.”

- “I have abs too!” Jungkook says indignantly, pulling his shirt up. “People love my abs! The fans want us to perform Fake Love because they get to see them!”

- You will admit that seeing his chiseled muscles made you feel a certain way, but you weren’t going to back down. Jungkook was not going to make you feel bad about having a bias 😤 and maybe you love to work him up since it’s so damn easy

- “Jiminie has tattoos across his abs,” you fawn, voice dripping with adoration. You nearly swoon as you say it, watching the way Jungkook’s jaw clenches.

- “I have them down my arm! The whole arm! Not just one or two!” Jungkook argues, growing progressively agitated. He points to the ink, as if that would make you understand.

- You sigh, rolling your eyes. “Yeah I guess. But they aren’t down your washboard abs.”

- “If you say abs one more time—“

- “You brought me the album!”

- “I didn’t think you were in love with Jimin, hoping for Jimin, trading all of your Jungkook photocards for Jimin!” Jungkook moves his hands passionately as he speaks, throwing them outward and punctuating each sentence with a sharp, jerky movement. Effectively working himself into a tizzy.

- It’s the last point that pushes you over the edge. You can’t believe Jungkook is being this bratty about such a small, insignificant thing. Yes, Jimin is your bias but Jungkook is literally your boyfriend. In the grand scheme of things, he shouldn’t be too upset.

- “Oh my—“ you tackle him where he sits, pressing kisses to his lips as you giggle. “Are you done being dramatic, bun?”

- Despite his theatrics, Jungkook didn’t mind that Jimin was your bias. He knew how much you loved ballet and modern dancing so it only made sense that Jimin would be the member that you found the most appealing.

- And sure, maybe Jimin’s flirty nature never failed to make the veins in Jungkook’s forehead bulge (maybe he can get a little jealous 🙄 sue him) whenever he saw you talking to Jimin. But Jungkook could never deny you such a small happiness.

- Jungkook huffs, a smile tugging up the corners of his mouth. “I guess. As long as you aren’t kissing Jimin like that.”

- “Of course not,” you laugh. “I only kiss his photocards goodnight.”

- “Hey!”

#bts #Bts x reader #Seokjin x reader #Yoongi x reader #Hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #Jimin x reader #Taehyung x reader #Jungkook x reader #bts drabble #bts one shot #bts imagines #bts reactions #mine #my fic

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rc-writes · 11 months

Note

Hello!!!

I just read your Ethan Morgan Drabble and it was so freaking adorable. It’s so nice to see people writing for MBV as I love that show so much.

I was wondering if I can request an idea? I don’t know if you write this type of stuff but if you do then can you please write some fluffy Dad!Ethan Morgan or Dad!Benny Weir scenario (i dont know why but they both give goofy sad vibes if they were parents)

If you don’t write that sort of thing that can you write Ethan Morgan x reader, where he has to take care of his sick significant other

Thank you again!!!

𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙨 | 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢

pairings: ethan morgan x reader

warnings: nothing besides the reader being sick i believe

a/n: i'm glad you loved my other ethan fic! and i agree that's its so cool to see people still writing for this show. our fandom may be small but it lives on lol. and i decided to go with the sick reader request (wasn't sure if you wanted it to be hcs or an imagine so i just went with hcs because i've been wanting to write more of those) but completely agree see either of the two with kids would be both incredibly cute/funny! anyways, i hope you like the hcs!!

ethan had texted you earlier that day asking if you wanted to go see the newest zombie movie

which on any other day you would’ve jumped at the chance to spend the entire day with your boyfriend

but today you woke up feeling like you were the zombie

but you decided against telling ethan that in fear of him going overboard

you loved that he cared but sometimes he was a but much

last time you were sick he convinced himself you must have been cursed by the monster of the week

so you opted to just tell him that you were just a bit too tired to go anywhere

which wasn’t technically a lie

you did just sleep past noon and hadn’t gotten out of bed yet

ethan was a kinda disappointed that you didn’t want to go be he understood wanting to do nothing

saving the world would take a toll on anyone

when ethan replied that he understood you’re worry of making him worry went away

unbeknownst he did still worry

you didn’t even realize in your dazed state that you responded rather deadpan-y

usually you’d crack a joke about how tiring saving the world was, or something along those lines

not just “sorry i’m just a bit too tired today :(“

ethan immediately got a feeling that there was more to the story, so he planned to go to your house and seeing you in person

curse him and his caring nature

the jig was up the moment you opened the door wearing a haphazardly thrown on robe, hair a mess, and bags under your eyes

“ethan, what are you doing here?”

sneeze #1

“i came to see if you were alright, which you don’t seem to be”

“don’t be silly i am-” sneeze #2 “alright”

he did not believe you for a second

even if he did the multiple sneezes gave it away

let caretaker ethan mode begin

don’t even think about getting off the couch any time soon

he will insist of getting anything and everything for you

want to change the channel? he will get up and get it for you even if you’re closer

getting kinda cold?

immediately throws the biggest blanket he can find on you

need a snack?

don’t worry he spread out a million different things he found in your cabinets the moment he set foot in your house

which at first he tried to find only healthy types of snacks but your sad pleading eyes convinced him to just grab everything

“you can’t eat only oreos all day”

“but they make me feel better” *sad eyes intensify*

“okay fine”

will make it his duty to find every tissue box in the vicinity and stack them up within arms reach

“i don’t think i’ll need that many”

“it’s just in case”

besides the many snacks laid out be prepared to be eating many bowls of soap

i don’t think ethan knows how to properly cook so it's mostly likely from a can

not that you’re complaining, the hot soap makes your throat not feel as scratchy

he’d probably call up benny at least once

“what’s up dude!?”

“is your grandma home?”

“you want to talk to grandma??”

as much of a good friend benny is he isn’t exactly the best at spells or potion making

so he was hoping grandma weir could stir something up that could make you feel better

and grandma weir loved you so of course she does

best she can do on such short notice is make a little home remedy that clears your nasal cavity for a few hours

you take it as if she offered you gold

“i can breathe again!”

“why didn’t you tell me you couldn’t before!?”

“i was just exaggerating a bit e”

“oh” you tell him that he worries too much

but you mean the world to him, how could he not worry?

you two would spend the rest of the day binge watching random movies

eventually you’d fall asleep on ethan’s shoulder

he’s a bit upset that you fell asleep during his favorite part of the movie

but he’s more than happy to see you finally sleeping peacefully

he falls asleep not much later

thankfully for you both you woke up the next morning feeling much better

and you about to cheer for joy when ethan suddenly starts sneezing

guess it’s his turn to be sick

oops

#mbav #mbav headcanons #my babysitters a vampire imagine #my babysitters a vampire fanfic #my babysitters a vampire #ethan morgan x reader #ethan morgan #ethan morgan imagine #ethan morgan headcanons #mbav x reader #my babysitters a vampire x reader

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radiowallet · 10 months

Text

Eyes Open - Chapter 8

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Amy Oliver (ofc) Summary: It seems silly to wait a whole week. WC: 2.1K Warnings: 18+ MDNI Canon-typical violence, talk of police work, a blatant show of testosterone, blood, injuries, kissing, making-out, dry humping, a smidge of dirty talk hurt/comfort, slow burn, yearning, idiots friends to lovers, financial stressors, second chance romance, workplace romance (sort of), older love interest, single parents, DID I MENTION THE YEARNING?

Series Masterlist II Main Masterlist II Marcus Moreno Masterlist

Cross-Posted to AO3

Part 7 >>> Part 9

For any new writing follow @radiowallet-writes and turn on notifications.

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Marcus checks his reflection in the window of Amy’s apartment building one last time, happy to see the swelling around his eye is finally starting to go down. He slips his glasses back on, and checks again, relieved that the black plastic hides the worst of the damage. He must have been something terrible to look at earlier, super strength helping to dull the pain but doing little to hide the gruesome sight of his late-night scuffle. Still, he was pleased with the way the purple had already faded to something more grey, content that the bruise would mostly be gone by morning.

Amy had been justifiably upset when they left the dark confines of the evidence locker, the bright fluorescent light of the precinct giving her a much better view of the damage done. He had tried to wave it off again, making a half-hearted joke about ‘seeing the other guy’ but she refused to laugh, instead marching him straight back to the bathroom, stopping only long enough to grab the first-aid kit from her desk.

“You can tell me what happened now, or I can just read it in the report that hits my desk Monday morning,” she warned, her sharp tone an odd match to the gentle way she cleaned his wounds. It was clear she’d had practice, and he had to fight back the wave of jealousy that her hands had touched anyone else with the same soft touch.

“I miscalculated. I thought Miracle was on his way. Plus I didn’t know Baldwin was still working the case.”

“He sweet-talked Special Crimes. Bought himself a little bit of time.”

It was almost bolstering to hear that Derek was just as desperate as Marcus to put a stop to all of this, even if their methods were so mismatched. Perhaps success wasn’t so far out of reach despite the loss they took today.

“And who made mincemeat out of your face?”

Marcus winced as Amy pressed a cotton ball of alcohol to the worst of his cuts, but she paid him little mind, still waiting for an answer to her question.

“The guy down in holding cell 4.”

She grew quiet after that, her movements slowing just enough to catch his attention. Marcus took care to grab her hands and hold them tight, waiting for her to say out loud what he already knew.

“Amy?”

“…he’ll make bail.”

He nodded, “I’m counting on it.”

It was wrong. Dangerous, even. Stupidly so. It seemed Amy agreed, echoing her plea from earlier, all but begging him to be careful. It had seemed like a good opportunity to kiss her again, and so he did, cupping her cheek to keep her close, as he stole the taste of stale coffee from her lips. When it became apparent neither of them wanted to pull away, laughter broke out between them again, the joyful sound helping to ease the tension that refused to part from this day. After that, Amy suggested he swing by after she got Harris down for bed.

“Seems silly to wait a whole week.”

Marcus couldn’t agree more.

Amy’s home feels just as cozy as it did the week prior, the lights dimmed low and the balcony door cracked open, letting a late spring breeze blow through. They settle together on the couch, curled into each other, the last of the wine Marcus brought Thursday split between them, the sound of the city keeping them company in place of the scratch of Amy’s records.

He's quick to take advantage of the newest state of their relationship, resting the curve of his palm along the bend in her knee, and thrilling at the shade of pink creeping up her cheeks. Not to be outdone, Amy leans over to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, giggling at the tickle of his mustache. He steals one of his own before pulling back, just enough for her to settle into his side, her head finding the space between his shoulder and neck.

“What did you and Harris get up to tonight?”

“Had pizza over at Christine’s then came back home for a few cuddles before bedtime,” she shrugs, a generous sip of wine chasing her answer. “I always say I don’t hate these Saturday shifts until I get home and realize how much time I’ve missed with her.”

“You’re doing great,” Marcus asserts, but without even looking he can see the roll of her eyes and the frown on her face. “You are,” he says again because she is and he means it.

He knows that guilt just as well as Amy does. That all-too-familiar foe that lingers at the back of his mind, a consistent and constant worry that one parent isn’t enough, could never be enough. He wishes there was a way to wipe it from her mind and put her heart at ease, but Marcus knows that the only solution is to remind her again and again.

And so he does.

“You are.”

He feels her nod, a soft brush of her fingers along his chin before settling back onto his thigh, enough of a cue for him to change the subject.

“How mad was Baldwin after I left today?”

“Oh, he quieted down not long after,” she hums, her smirk hidden behind her wine glass. “I think your mere presence is a trigger for him these days.”

Marcus can’t help but grin, something like victory blooming in his chest. He lets out a sharp laugh and squeezes Amy’s knee in reply. “Who’s gonna break the news that he’s about to see a whole lot more of me?”

He’s only half-joking, his lips finding the crown of Amy’s head, breathing in the sweet scent of her shampoo. It feels almost like a dream – one he had been so reluctant even to consider – and the long list of reasons why seemed so stupid with the weight of her resting against him.

“Maybe we just let him figure it out on his own,” Amy offers, the tips of her fingers drumming a pattern out on Marcus’s thigh. It’s slight, the small wave of nerves shifting out of her. It feels like she needs room – or maybe it’s time – to parse through her words, and Marcus is content to wait for her.

“I just…,” she starts, her breathing shaky along the rim of her glass. “I don’t want things to change.”

He presses another kiss into the crown of her head, this time holding his lips there for her to feel the intent behind them. “It won’t.”

She’s quiet in the wake of his reassurance, leaning deeper into his embrace, her fingers finally stilling where they rest on his leg.

“So you’ll still pop in to awkwardly flirt while I slip you police reports and suspect lists?”

This earns her an amused snort and another kiss, this one to her temple, his lips lingering on the small patch of skin. The feel of it sends a wave of pleasure to the base of his spine, something warm and heady pooling low in his gut. He hums, the sound rough and deep at the back of his throat, the hand on her knee curling tighter to ground him in this moment. He swallows around it, finding his own voice, but just barely.

“My flirting wasn’t that awkward.”

Amy tilts her head to brush her lips along the underside of his chin, her lips parting enough for him to feel her breathe out her gentle tease.

“Debatable.”

Things fall into place quickly after that. Wine glasses find their way to the coffee table, Amy turning up and around, all of her settling in his lap. Marcus takes care to hold her steady, wrapping his hands around the slip of her waist, eyes finding hers as she leans in for a kiss. She gives just as openly now as she did the first time they kissed, her lips smooth where they meet his own. He parts them easily, his tongue melting into hers, the taste of her better than he remembered.

Amy is warm and heavy on top of him, one hand curled into his hair, the other clinging to the back of his neck. Marcus almost feels helpless, gripping tighter to her waistline and pulling her closer and closer still, until he swears he can feel the beat of her heart against his own. The heat between them burns brighter, and with it, his hunger for her. He thrusts up, just once, dragging a moan from her between her lips. He swallows the sound, and trades her one of his own, letting the whole of it fill her up.

Their kisses only grow more frantic from there, a messy press of lips lost in the sound of breathless sighs and hushed pleas. They move together, hips grinding up and down, not nearly enough but still so much in the heat of the moment. Marcus breaks first, gasping for air as his lips pull away. He doesn’t go far, knocking his glasses off and burying his face in the curve of her neck, teeth and tongue finding the salty sting of her skin.

“M-Marcus…I…it’s been so… so l-long….” Her voice is a whisper, strangled and panting in his ear. It's like music, and he can’t help but bite down harder, officially marking her as his. Amy’s words break off, her hips canting down to meet his own.

“Shhh, I know. I know,” he promises, soothing the hair off her forehead, refusing to stop even as she presses her lips to his cheek, her mewls almost silent as tries and fails to beg for more.

It’s intoxicating, knowing he’s making her feel so good; so good he’s stealing the words from her lips, and replacing them with only the pleasure of his touch. He feels light-headed, dizzy, almost lost, his thrusts frenzied but not without purpose. With each drag of his hips, bright white bursts across his vision, his cock painfully hard beneath the weight of Amy. But he doesn’t care.

Fuck, how he doesn’t care.

All he cares about is how she whispers in his ear, her nails biting into his skin, pleading for him to keep going. As if he would dare to stop. He holds tight to her waist, wondering selfishly if she’ll bruise, pulling and pushing her into him as hard as he can. She winds her arms around his neck, muffling her cries in the turn of his neck. He can only guess at how close she is by the tremor in her muscles, legs and arms shaking where they’re wrapped around him. Already he’s thinking of the next time he has her like this, hungry to hear how loud she can be when given the freedom. How exquisite she’ll sound when she breaks around him, and he’ll take care to put her back together.

For now, he’s happy, feverishly so, everything falling by the wayside as she gasps out his name, her body locking tight as her orgasm crashes into her. He talks her through the height of it, coaxing every ounce of pleasure from her that he can.

“I’ve got you. I’m here,” Marcus repeats over and over, in awe at how she chases the wave of relief, seemingly desperate to hold on to how good it all feels. He grabs her chin, guiding her mouth to his with a skilled hand, swallowing the last of the quiet gasps she sets free, until finally, she falls against his chest, completely spent, sated.

Carefully, her body pliant and her breathing even, he tucks her beneath his chin, another kiss gifted to the crown of her head.

“What about…” she starts, her hips dipping forward to meet his erection, but he shakes his head and holds her steady.

“I just wanted to take care of you.”

She takes the admission in stride, her lips pressing to the hollow dip in his throat, her fingers finding a home where his hair curls at the nape of his neck. He thinks maybe he could fall asleep here, the twist of their bodies tangled on her couch, the city sounds floating in through the dark night, Amy’s warmth enough to keep any chill at bay.

But neither of them are want for a night on a couch, and it isn’t long before she’s sliding away from him, casting a quick glance down the hall, ensuring the door to Harris’s room is still closed tight. Satisfied with what she sees, Amy turns her attention back to Marcus, her cheeks flushed and her eyes dark. He can’t help himself, pulling her in for another kiss, the palm of his hand cradling her cheek, and holding her close even as their kiss breaks apart.

“I think I like this thing we’ve started,” Marcus whispers, the tips of his fingers finding the patch of skin beneath her shirt, the small of her back tacky with the lightest sheen of sweat.

And then, after a pause, Amy whispers, “Please, be careful.”

And Marcus knew. Without even asking, he knew.

Be careful with me. With us. Please.

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

Part 7 >>> Part 9

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A/N: Would it be a story I wrote if I didn't include my favorite thing in the whole world? Surely not. What can I say? Your girl loves some dry humping.

Big huge thanks to @jazzelsaur who had to listen to me after I wrote this about how fucking hot I accidentally got myself. Who I would be if I couldn't whore around in her DM's?????

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno fic #marcus moreno x ofc #we can be heroes #we can be heroes fic #pedro pascal characters

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