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chrollohearttags · 21 days

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french tips • sanji x black!fem reader

your new nail tech suddenly becomes your favorite after an appointment you’ll never forget!

nail tech!sanji, modern au, him being a gentleman ofc (he’s not a perv in this, hadn't watched the live action but from clips, taz seems a lot more charming so that’s who i'm going with! 😭) massage, handjob, foot and nipple play, service dom, fingering, squirting, calls reader miss + my dear, praise kink, says good girl a couple times, sanji has a tongue ring

word count: 2.5K

whoever sent this idea, thank you for your contribution. I don’t know if you are being serious or facetious but either way, you have awoken something in me. sanji fuckers, come get y’all’s juice!!

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you were a little hesitant…downright apprehensive even. You’d been coming to this shaking for years and each time, you sat in the same chair, got nearly the same services and entrusted your beauty needs to the same hands. “I’m sorry, (y/n). She’s on vacation right now and won’t be back for at least three weeks.” “I understand but I wish she would’ve told me before I booked the appointment..” you were flustered and rather frustrated to boot..you had an important event coming up and the last thing you needed was your routine disrupted. It was already enough chaos in your hectic life! But nail tech!sanji was willing to swoop in and make things easier.

“Miss, if you don’t mind..I’d be more than happy to help you today. My next appointment isn’t for a few hours so I’ve got plenty of time to get everything taken care of.”

nail tech!sanji, who’d been an esthetician and licensed massage therapist for years, had just begun working there but his work and reputation far preceded longevity at this particular shop. The man was an absolute master at his craft and his catalog spoke for itself. He had won competitions, curated some of the most beautiful designs you’ve ever seen and worked with absolute proficiency. “Is there a specific design you’re looking for?” nail tech!sanji had also mastered the art of de-escalating tense situations. When working around women and people who did not play when it came to their appearances, he knew one wrong move could result in his head or termination so he was flawless in his final product..left with no other choice, you’d accept nail tech!sanji’s generous offer. “Fine. But if you screw up one thing on these nails, I’m done with this shop for good.” but little did you know, you’d be so glad that you did take the services from him! nail tech!sanji, who’s work area was absolutely spotless, smelled of vanilla incense and looked so out together, it shocked you. “I find vanilla helps soothe the senses…makes you feel a lot more relaxed. Don’t worry, I’m going to take good care of you and if at any time, I do anything wrong, you let me know. Okay, miss?” nail tech!sanji, who looked better suited for a repair shop with his tattoos, blonde wefts and tongue ring, certainly took you by surprise. He was gentle, attentive and made certain that you were comfortable. “Can I offer you some water? Or perhaps something else to drink?” As the nail salon you frequented also doubled as a bar. “No alcohol for me today, please. I drove. I’ll just take the water..” nail tech!sanji, who noticed that you were still nervous, decided to take your hand and redirect that tension.

“So tell me about this event. I’d love to hear about it if you don’t mind.” nail tech!sanji, who was not only kind but handsome and rather charming to boot. He had a great sense of humor and was very quick witted..this man who was all but a stranger thirty minutes ago, had you laughing and fanning yourself as he dabbed balls of acrylic onto your nails and sculpted your tips to perfection. nail tech!sanji, who did thorough work whilst also listening to you attentively as you divulged about your career and how you were going to be attending a gala for the company’s sponsors. “Sounds like it’s a room full of snobs.” “You don’t know the half but hey, they keep my bills paid so I can’t complain too much, I guess.” nail tech!sanji, who was absolutely smitten by you, couldn’t stop staring from across the table as he gently kneaded lotion into your hands. His touch was so soft and inviting, making you wish he’d never pull away. It didn’t help matters that he was so damn attractive! nail tech!sanji, who made your nails look the best they ever had, was pleased to see the smile on your face after he finished!

“..only the best for a valued customer and such a beauty at that. I do aim to please.” “I’d say you exceeded that. Thank you, mr. sanji..they’re gorgeous.” “Thank you for allowing me to take care of you. I’m honored.”

nail tech!sanji, who wasn’t quite ready to part ways with the gorgeous woman he’d come to be acquainted with, decided that he would take on all of your services today. Including your pedicure and massage…nail tech!sanji, who saw that you opted for the deluxe package, whisked you away to the private room with the entire setup. Something you’d always paid for. A massage bed in the corner and the pedicure chair with a tub full of milky liquid and rose petals scattered about…soft, ambient music playing from the speakers and waves displayed on a mounted television screen crashed around. It was so peaceful and just what you needed for the long week ahead and the one you’d just gone through. nail tech!sanji, who rolled up his sleeves as he sat down to work on your feet, made you chew at your bottom lip..weirdly enticed by the sight of his veins protruding from his forearms. But that wasn’t the only reason…he’d soak your heels and work on each one as the other marinated in the softening solution. nail tech!sanji, who delicately massaged up and down those calves, couldn’t help but to chuckle when he felt you slightly tremble yet again when he began to gently knead his fingers into your pressure points, causing you to melt right there! “Looks like someone enjoyed that. You’re really tense for some reason, miss..something on your mind?” Trying to feign the embarrassment of admitting that not only were slightly turned on by how gently this man handled you but the fact that beneath that skin tight sundress, you weren’t wearing any panties, as you had just come from your wax appointment before arriving here and he was seconds from getting an eyeful! “N-no, I’m fine. Just feels really good.” “Well that’s all I want to hear.” nail tech!sanji, who was quick to sense the energy shift, went to retrieve your polish of choice after rubbing your legs down in lotion and wrapping them in warm towels.

“White toes..good choice. And a personal favorite on a lady too.” “You’re a man of good taste then. I like that.” Causing the blonde to blush a bit himself..as he could tell you weren’t exactly some scared little girl. You were a grown woman..who was strong, handled her business and always got her way. Just his type! nail tech!sanji, who set up for your final service as he allowed your toes to cure under the gel lamp, began to dim the lights and lay out all his materials. Knowing that you were watching him carefully…snaking his tongue out intermittently to reveal that steel ball stuck between it. Not to mention the silver bands wrapped around his perfectly manicured fingers.

“..can I have you remove your clothes and wrap yourself in the towel, please? I can step out for a moment and you just let me know when you’re ready..” helping you from your seat as he removed that lamp and grasped your hand..this man was the epitome of a perfect gentleman and you were becoming more and more ecstatic that you had decided to come in today. But unbeknownst, the best was yet to come..nail tech!sanji, who’d stepped back in to find you lying across the table on your stomach, a single towel covering your frame and ready for him to work his magic. nail tech!sanji, who had to all but bite his fist to restrain himself as he inched closer and prepared to make you feel the best you had in ages…warming a palmful of oil as he rubbed them together. Waiting in anticipation, you’d glance back and be greeted with a smirk. When he began to knead your muscles with those strong hands, your body would immediately melt within his grasp. So carefully working out all the sores and kinks that had mounted throughout the stressful work week. Meetings, business negotiations, dinners with your bosses…it was all taking its toll. But if anyone could put you at ease, it was nail tech!sanji..

“How are we feeling, my dear?..”

“Amazing..you’re really good at this..”

and luckily for you, this wasn’t even the beginning. Because as he kept going, (y/n) began to release soft whimpers in response to those subtle touches. Chewing at your lower lip, you’d allow your mind to escape to a place that it should not have been. Abashedly, you didn’t want to admit it but it’d been quite some time since a man had touched you, less known, made you feel this damn good! It was apparent that he was no amateur..in many ways than once. “Mmmm…like that.” The words slipped out subconsciously but it didn’t even phase nail tech!sanji, he just chuckled and kept going. Everytime he moved, he questioned and asked for your permission to place his hands lower. By the time he reached your lower back, you’d let him know it was quite alright to do as he pleased. “Please…keep going. You know what to do..” you were never a promiscuous woman by any means but you were the kind to have your way..when you wanted it. And what you wanted right now…was for him to give in to his desires and take you right there!

“In that case…flip over f’r me and I’ll give you exactly what you need.” The sexual tension that had accrued between you two was undeniable and neither of you were interested in playing coy. So with the command being whispered into your ear, causing a shudder to run down your spine, you’d follow his command and turn over to lie on your back, exposing your breasts. He couldn’t help but to subtly grunt at the sheer sight of those erect, dark hues nipples and toned tummy. The only thing making it better was the glass colored liquid pooling across it and spreading as he rubbed it in. Your brown skin glistening underneath the hue of auburn lighting.. “..there we are..much better.” nail tech!sanji took his sweet time in caressing your body. Honing in on your stiff little buds and watching you squirm. Your dark eyes glaring through him with unadulterated lust. Especially when he’d wash his hands off and proceed to go lower beneath that cloth covering your upper thighs. “You sure know how to work your hands..” “I’m only getting started, my love. Just keep your eyes on me and don’t move…” his dominance was not only attractive but captivating. You needed him more than he could imagine! So much so, you’d reach over to grasp for his clothed erection that was growing from the confines of his pants. But nail tech!sanji was quick to halt you, gently clutching your wrist.

“Aht..not yet, gorgeous. It’s my turn.” Chuckling as he commanded you to lean up so you could watch his every movement. He’d part your legs as he kept an arm cradled behind your shoulders and the other between your thighs, working those nimble fingers on your sensitive spot. “Oh my gosh..” “…mmph, you’re soaking, pretty girl.” watching you writhe and whimper as those digits circulated your clit. nail tech!sanji, who latched his lips around your nipples and suckled as he moved about, working them inside of you..whispering into your ear, marking your throat with kisses and filling your head with sweet nothings as he clutched his hand around it. “Ooh..you needed this, didn’t you?…yeah, I know. Just need someone to take care of you every once in a while.” Pegging you to a tee..so independent and headstrong that sometimes, you forgot what it felt like to be spoiled. Clutching around his knuckles, you’d grasp for his arm and hold onto it as your lips met in passionate pecks. Exchanging saliva and whimpers in the process. Tasting one another as the kisses deepened. Sensing that mounting ball of pleasure forming in your core, he’d curl his index and middle digits to work that orgasm out of you. “Good girl..there you go. Keep fucking my fingers. Just like that..get yourself off..” nail tech!sanji, who was practically yearning to bury himself inside of your pussy, could no longer fight his own urges and gave you permission to stroke his cock, shuffling his waistband around to remove it. “Mmph, damn…” “..like what you see, miss?” Knowing that you were taken aback by his size and length. A glowing red tip with precum seeping out..you’d carefully take into your grasp as you stroked that shaft. You’d pleasure each other through lilted moans and stifled cries. Practically shoving your tongue down the other’s throats as you brought each other to ecstasy. “Should I speed up? I can if you need me to..” but you’d quickly decline, finding that the pace was perfect. He was equally as needy but his resolve outweighed his pleasure at the moment and he was determined to let you get yours before his own. Which wasn’t too far away..

“You wanna come, beautiful? It’s okay, you can tell me.” “Y-yes! Please, Sanji..” and with that, he commanded your release with a sharp tug upward and a quickened flick of his wrist..you’d finally cave and release. Letting out loud whimpers, along with a stream of juices, that soaked the table and your quivering thighs. nail tech!sanji, who enjoyed the sight of watching you writhe from his volition, was quick to get a sample of the mess he contributed to. Moving down your torso with the swipe of his tongue piercing, grazing your skin; lapping up those sweet juices from your center down to your thighs..leaving a trail of kisses in his wake until he reached your calves and feet. nail tech!sanji, who’d place those freshly done toes into his mouth, sucking them momentarily as he concluded your massage.

“So..did I do a good job, my love? Satisfied with your service today?” Receiving by far the best compliment he’s ever gotten when you snatched him down and made out with him once more. Showing your gratitude. “I’ll take that as a yes..” giggling with him as the two of you came down from your climatic bliss.

y/n, who was apprehensive before coming in here, was now leaving happier than ever. And nail tech!sanji, who had never picked favorites among his clients, was now looking forward to your next appointment!

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tagging: @lotus-flower-writes @spaceforher @highpri3stess @themagnificentgoat @ichigosluvrr @ladymomo

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little-worm-grant · 4 months

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Spicy Steven: Rainy Day

Steven Grant x You (Fem!Reader)

1,864 words / 18+ only, no minors

Masterlist.

If you like what you see, leave a like or reblog and follow me ♥

Summary: What if Steven got all embarrassed he couldn’t last?! It's far too easy to wind him up. But maybe you both girlbossed a little too close to the sun this time. Less plot, more smut.

Notes: Please be kind. First time publicly publishing smut. I was looking at my tame + wholesome masterlist thinking I should write something new for Steven. Then this filth was forced upon my innocent little swiss-cheese brain. You can take my keyboard away from me now. I’m sorry. But also you’re welcome.

Warnings: soft domme fem!reader, submissive Steven kind of but not totally??, teasing, fluff/praise, masturbation, piv sex, unprotected sex, premature ejaculation, creampie, cum play

You were lying naked on his bed. Rain pouring outside had caused you to stay over his place a few hours more. One thing led to another. You’d barely teased him but Steven was already crawling up your body. Kissing all the spots he’d missed going down. Tilting your head to catch sight of his thickened cock swinging between each movement. Your legs shift to squeeze against him in anticipation. You knew what was coming next and you couldn’t wait another second.

He was like some over-eager puppy given the okay to come up for air. That talented mouth of his became over-stimulation at this point. You once asked him what he thought about when he went down on you, expecting him to say something daft that would stop him from making a mess of the sheets. Instead, he told you he’d been writing how he felt about you in hieroglyphics. The sucking is just a bonus because he loved the taste of you. He didn’t need to do much to get your pussy to flutter. He never did make you work for it. If only he knew the power he held over you, he’d be downright dangerous.

Ever since the first time you’d gotten intimate with each of them, Steven was the only one to never tell you no. You sometimes worried you’d do something he wouldn’t like and he might not tell you as you cuddled together afterwards. When he looked back at you with those bold expressive eyes, it told you everything you needed to know. You realized all you wanted to do was take good care of him.

Steven clumsily crawled up to meet your lips. The taste of you on his tongue. His body shifted and an arm slithers between the two of you. A moment later, you feel him stroking his head across your soaked folds. Guiding himself home. You’ve been suffering through his fingers and his mouth already. More than ready to feel him fully.

When he takes a second too long for your patience, you order him to lie back.

Flipping positions. You help him down the last part of the way with a push and a smile. His cock had slipped out somewhere in the movements. Not a problem. You were up on your knees over him. Steven lay back, looking both entirely surprised to be there and not letting his focus up for what came next.

You reach down and give him a few exploratory pumps. Being gentle, starting from the head where most of the pre-cum and your fluids had accumulated. You use just your middle finger and thumb to smear it over his thick spongy head, dragging it down to the bundle of nerves to play with. Gentle back-and-forth motions. Steven jerked with his whole body. Quickly throwing his lip into a bite to hold back the noise. He wasn’t fooling anyone. You still heard it. Came out more like a whine.

“Pretty boy. How about another moan for me?” You coo. He looked back at you like a wounded animal. Those curls on his face framed him just right for the compliment.

“This ain’t on. You’ve been bloody teasing me all night.” He shook his head. His hands palmed at the bedsheets on either side of him. Even after all this time, he still never seemed to know what to do with his hands. Adorable.

You look away from him. Watching the rain beat down on the windows. Pretending not to know he’s there while you continue to stroke. He could tell you to stop if he wanted, but you both knew he wasn’t about to do that. Instead, he squirmed and tolerated it for as long as he could before his words managed to find the tip of his tongue.

“Please? I don’t want to be the twat that jizzes on himself because my girl’s stunning but she’s an absolute menace.”

Shuffling up a little more you stop stroking and kept your hand still around him. “Oh, I’m a menace, am I?” Offering a gentle squeeze. Steven squirmed without trying to move away, looking like he was about to burst then and there. His cheeks turn a lovely shade of red as he nodded and scrambled to find a comeback to say.

“Uh-huh. Yup- The kind that looks at a beautiful sunrise and tells it to buggar off for a few more hours sleep.”

“No-one needs to be making anything at that time my business. What’s that got to do with me being a menace?”

“It’s got everything to do with-“

You lined yourself up while he rambled. Sinking down on him without warning. Finding a way to shut him up. You slid down far as you could tolerate before you needed to slow down the last part of the way. The stretch tingled. You catch a stuttered breath in your throat.

“Oh- oh god.” He spluttered out. Hands flying away from the bedsheets to grip at your thighs, as if searching for some kind of stability. There was none. Him holding you like that wasn’t going to stop you. Hips wiggled slowly from side to side to fit yourself snugly onto him.

You grind down and start slow. Finding that pace you liked where his cock would hit the spot just right. Small noises came from him. Breathier ones from you. You’d barely started rocking against him before you felt him shudder. His eyes were rolled back and you felt his cock pumping a hot mess deep inside you.

Game over.

Steven held you a little tighter before releasing his grip. Face going pale. Surprising himself. “Shit- I am so so sorry.” He looked as mortified as he sounded. Hands coming up to cover his face he groaned.

You laugh lightly and shake your head at him. Stopping immediately to lower yourself down onto him to rest. Leaning down to bring your face in closer to his. Hands moved on his, guiding them away from his face to hold down against the pillow. Boy looked like he could use a hug. Instead, you squeeze his hands in yours. Rubbing your nose against his.

“Aw no, baby, don’t feel bad. It’s okay. I’m still having fun. You already got me off once, be proud of that.”

You shower his face in peppered kisses. His softer hands stroke up your sides. Could have mistaken him for Marc with all that guilt lining his features. You stroke his knuckles with your thumbs and kiss away his embarrassment once more. A little longer lasting this time.

“I’ll take the blame for that. I’ve been teasing you for ages. Or maybe I’m just that good you can’t control yourself around me.”

You move your hand away from him to pretend to wipe the glitter off your shoulder. Glitter was an inside joke you both shared regularly. That got a laugh out of him and you feel the movement of his softer cock slipping out from inside you. You shifted to the feeling of it. The mess he’d made coming with it. Pooling on his abdomen and leaking down your legs.

“You are so amazing.” He tells you. "Can I touch you?"

Nodding, you bite your lip when his hand wiggles out from under yours and goes down. Feeling his fingers immediately stroke over your used needy hole had you tensing up. You press into his touch. Steven leaned back up to meet your lips. Less desperate this time, more loving. You hear his words murmured against you.

“I feel bad I keep making a mess before you can finish.”

“Don’t be. Just means we need to try again, right?” You say more hopefully, a glint of a smile when you lean back to see him nod without any words. More concentrated on what he was doing to you.

You feel Steven’s fingers leaving you alone. Casting your eyes down to see what he was doing, you watch him scoop up some of the mess from his abdomen then bring it up to stuff back into you. The temperature difference was felt and caused you to shiver. The way his fingers lazily toyed with the cum on your pussy warmed you back up from the inside out.

He brought his other arm up behind his head to be able to watch better. Your hands stayed where they are, pressed into the pillow either side of him. His fingers caught cum drooling down your legs to spread over your pussy. Slow strokes before he’d go find some more, either from around you or inside. You were already wound up from everything, needing that blissful high he could put you into. Hips rocking, chasing his touch. A few more minutes of this had you trembling and him stiff as a rock again. Maybe he did know what to do with his hands after all.

This time. There was no waiting. No holding back. The moment Steven was aligning himself you were sinking down and seeking out that spot with more ferocity than you’d had before. Steven matched your rhythm with coordinated thrusts.

Pushing himself to sit up and catch your nipple in his mouth. He sucked sloppily, then moving up after your mouth. Hand slipped between you both again to play with you. Firmer. More in that way you'd shown him you liked. It was your turn to grip onto him for stability. Swallowing each other's moans and thrusting roughly until you both finished. You first, him following a few thrusts later.

The kisses turned softer. You lay back in bed together and stroked over each others bare skin. Air coming back to your lungs as you both come down from the clouds you were on.

You see him thinking loudly with that familiar distant stare. Off in his own world again. A moment later he was blinking as he snapped back into the moment, focusing back on you. You wait to see who it might be. His expression changed all shy and it made you laugh. Still Steven then.

“What?”

“I was just thinking. We should have more rainy days like this. But like, every day.”

“Yeah? I’d like that.”

“Wouldn’t need to leave if it was every day. This'd be your place too.”

“Is this your way of asking me to move in?”

“That’s uh- I think- I mean, yeah? I guess it is. What do you think?”

“Say it then. Ask me properly.”

“Alright.” He shifted onto his side. His hand in his hair to prop his head up and look down at you. “Will you move in with me?”

Without a beat, you smile and say, “No.” His face contorted up. You soften up your smile and squeeze him. “I need to talk to the others first. Otherwise, yes.”

“Had me for a second then… You flipping menace.” He dove down to tackle you with kisses and playful bites which have you squirming and unable to breathe through the laughter. Pushing back to try and pin him down. Wouldn't matter if it turned into something more. You both had all the time in the world. The perfect way to spend a rainy day.

#steven grant #oscar isaac #moon knight #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #steven grant x fem!reader #mcu fanfiction #steven grant smut #mcu smut #moon knight smut #moon knight fanfiction #open rp #open starter #stevens pov

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ryukatters · 4 months

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Seven (minus two) — s. gojo ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

⟡ summary: five different ways satoru fucks you just right. inspired by jk’s “seven.” happy birthday you sexy sexy man

⟡ pairing: satoru gojo x fem!reader

⟡ content: smutty smut smut, semi public sex, he picks you up but cmon he’s the strongest for a reason, reader isn’t a sorcerer, oral (m&f receiving), body worship, degradation, gojo pulls reader’s hair, some dom/sub dynamics, refractory period is nonexistent, satoru is a slight exhibitionist and makes it everyone’s problem, omfg i just realized i made him a munch, gojo in handcuffs 😋 MINORS DNI

also i used one of @/jinsdumplingson’s prompts for scenario #3!

⟡ wc: 5k (LMFAO)

live laugh love gojo ✨

i. You love when I jump right in / All of me I’m offering / Show you what devotion is — (body worship + exhibitionism)

You consider yourself to be a nice girlfriend, you really do. You pamper your boyfriend, prepare him lunch, and even make the trip to hand deliver it to him at Jujutsu High. And yet—

“Satoru, don’t even think about it. Or I swear to god—”

“Swear what, baby?” Even with the blindfold on, there was no mistaking the predatory glint adorning the eyes behind it.

Satoru had wasted no time dragging you into a random classroom the minute he greeted you at the campus entrance. For all the things that Satoru Gojo possessed, restraint (especially when it came to you) wasn’t one of them. He didn’t even have enough self-control to at least try and make it to his office.

What he did have though, was the nerve to shove the both of you in a room where anyone could pass by. Where anyone could hear the downright degenerate activities Satoru was going to coerce you into.

And who was Satoru if not a fan of pushing the limits of how far he can get away with things?

Your boyfriend stalks towards you. His boots clack against the wooden floors, echoing against the walls of the empty classroom. You find yourself taking a step back for each one he steps forward. The divide between the two of you seems to get impossibly smaller.

A gasp tumbles past your lips as the back of your legs hit the edge of a desk. Satoru smiles, the same one he gives when he knows he has you where he wants you, that he’s won the little game of cat and mouse you two play when he gets like this; consumed by a searing hunger that gnaws at his very core, one that can only be satiated by getting his fill of you.

“Uh oh,” he gasps mockingly, giving you a faux look of surprise. “Looks like you’re done running.” Large hands wrap under your thighs before you’re being lifted up onto the wooden desk with ease. “And I’ve got you right where I want you.”

“‘toru,” you gasp, trying (and failing) to protest as a last ditch effort to save the both of you some propriety.

“Baby,” he murmurs, nipping at your jugular. “You look so beautiful, I just need to have you.”

“B-but, you have a meeting with Yaga right after—”

“Baby.” He deadpans, eyes boring straight into yours. “Frankly, I don’t give a fuck. And don’t say anyone else’s name when I’m about to go down on you.” He shuts down any and all protests by leaning down and capturing your lips with his. Calloused hands roam your body appreciatively, squeezing both of your tits and running his thumbs over the outline of your hardened nipples poking through the fabric of your top.

It’s not enough. He needs to feel you. Your clothes are in the way. Your head snaps down to look at your now exposed chest, mouth agape as you stare at your boyfriend whose eyes are filled with mirth.

“God, look at you.”

“Satoru, you just ripped my fucking shirt–”

“Shh,” he hums, easily covering your mouth with one hand to muffle any expletives thrown his way. “You’re worrying about the wrong things, princess,” his hand moves down to wrap around your throat, squeezing tighter and tighter until you let out a choked moan. Satoru lets out a satisfied hum. “For example,” his free hand slides down to reach under your waistband, index finger rubbing along your slit. “This soaked pussy. Don’t you think she deserves a little more attention, baby?”

He doesn’t wait for a response. “I think she does,” laughing you jolt from the harsh slap he gives your clit. “So are you going to let me give her what she deserves or are you going to keep being a brat?”

Your response dies on the tip of your tongue. You stare up at Satoru, eyes blown wide with lust. You shake your head.

“Use your words,” he demands. “Don’t keep disappointing me, princess. Taught you better than that.”

“I…” you start, feeling the way your cheeks burn in humiliation. Satoru stares at you expectantly. “Give me what I deserve, ‘toru. Please,” you whisper.

A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “Good girl.”

Satoru litters a trail of kisses from your jaw down to your tits, mouth latching on to one as his hand squeezes the other lovingly. “I think you deserve everything and more, princess. So I’m going to give it to you.”

Satoru thanks his lucky stars that you decided to wear a skirt today. He runs his hands up and down your thighs appreciatively before flipping up the garment, revealing your panties that were surely stained with arousal. He presses a sweet kiss to your mound, sucking the fabric slightly. He thinks it’s such a waste for such sweetness to be lost to a flimsy piece of cloth. Nectar as sweet of yours deserves to be worshiped, and Satoru considers himself your most loyal devotee. He won’t allow any more to go to waste.

“Can’t believe you were keeping this soaked pussy from me,” he sighs. “’s not very nice of you, baby.”

You don’t get in so much of a peep before Satoru practically starts making out with your pussy. Satoru is gluttonous. He’ll take and take, especially if the dish on the table in question is you. He worships you with a fervor that could rival even the most pious of devotees. You manage to blow his mind every time.

“Fuck,” you hiss, gripping to the edge of the desk for support. “That feels so good, baby.”

“Yeah? You were fightin’ me so hard earlier but look at you now,” he coos, “so ready to be a good girl for me.”

Satoru flicks his tongue across your clit expertly before sucking on the sensitive nub. He feels his cock strain against the confines of his uniform pants as you trill beneath him. He knows you’re close based on the way your back is arching further and further off the desk. “You gonna cum, pretty?”

“Mhmm,” you slur. Your high comes crashing down on you in waves. You slap a hand against your mouth to muffle any and all sounds of pleasure as Satoru helps you ride out your orgasm. He pulls away when you start to pull away from overstimulation. The two of you don’t really have the luxury of teasing at the moment.

He’s nice enough to not let you beg for his cock. Satoru tends to have a sadistic streak and derives extreme pleasure in seeing you squirmy and embarrassed, begging for his mercy.

But he thinks he likes you like this too— soft whines and whimpers, a voiceless plea for more. Afraid of being heard by passerby’s. The more possessive part of him is rearing, manifesting itself through soft caresses and searing lovebites. His mind turns to putty knowing that he’s the only one to see you like this, hear you like this, feel you like this.

He slides in without much resistance. He muffles himself in between the juncture of your shoulder and neck, licking at the bite gingerly as a means of apologizing.

Satoru doesn’t have any restraint when it comes to you. But he tries his damn hardest not to plow into you the minute he’s inside you. He gives a few shallow thrusts before picking up the pace. He fucks into you with rough, calculated precision. Your back starts to feel raw against the fine oak but you can’t find it in you to care. Not when Satoru is giving it to you so good.

Satoru is overwhelmed by the desire to be impossibly closer to you, to meld the two of you into one. So he does. He picks you up with ease. You let out a slight yelp as you feel yourself in midair, wrapping your legs around his waist on instinct. He fucks you like that, strong arms under your thighs as he lifts you up and down his length like a cocksleeve.

“God, baby,” he moans, fingertips digging into the fat of your thighs. “Pussy’s pulling me in so tight. ‘s like you were made for me.”

“Satoru,” you whimper, “‘m gonna cum.”

“Yeah?” His pace doesn’t relent. He only drills into you harder, each thrust hitting that sweet spot inside of you. “Cum for me, sweet girl.”

You’re lucky to have enough wits in you to let out a soft cry instead of screaming out your boyfriend’s name. Satoru follows you soon after, riding out his own orgasm as he paints your walls white. He lays you back down on the desk before slumping over you, struggling to catch his breath. He gives you a quick peck before he slurs out, “You’re so perfect, you know that?”

Maybe you should bring him lunch more often.

ii. Leave you with that afterglow (light bondage)

Satoru forgets just how downright cruel you can be. How his sweet girlfriend also has a little sadistic side to her that enjoys seeing him squirm. Maybe it’s because you’re the only one capable of doing so.

He’s desperate to touch you, to hold you, to squeeze your body as you move on top of him. His hands twitch with need, but he’s stopped by two metal cuffs chaining him to the bed. Soft ivory wrists are marred by a slight red, evidence of his struggle.

“B-baby,” he whimpers. His voice sounds unfamiliar even to him. The words spilling past his lips foreign to his own ears, “Fuck— please. More, I need more.”

You’ve managed to reduce the strongest sorcerer into a blushing, blubbering mess.

Satoru doesn’t care that you’re making him go absolutely fucking stupid. He welcomes it, even. All he cares about is the way you’re swirling your hips, your sharp nails digging into either side of his neck, and whether or not you’ll spare him enough mercy to actually let him cum after being edged all evening.

His moans ascend higher and higher in pitch as the coil in his stomach winds tighter and tighter.

“God, just like that. Just like that,” he cries out.

“Are you going to cum for me, baby?” You ask sweetly.

Satoru thought he reached enlightenment some time ago. But that moment pales in comparison to how he feels right now. Each passing second with you feels like you’re guiding him closer and closer to Nirvana with no respite.

It’s not fair, Satoru thinks. It’s not fair that you know where he’s weak and for you to use that against him.

“Y-yeah,” he gasps as you reach down one hand, fingertips grazing against his perineum. “For you, ‘s always for you, baby. Please, please let me cum.”

You stare down at your boyfriend, entranced by the beads of sweat rolling down the sides of his hickey-stained neck and the way his flushed chest heaves. Satoru just looks downright pretty. Especially when he’s ruined.

“Cum for me, ‘toru,”

The tears that have been threatening to spill from his lash line all evening finally fall. He bucks his hips up to meet the way you bounce down on his cock. Satoru cries out your name as he fucks his load into you, ribbons and ribbons of cum painting your insides. Something inside Satoru breaks with the mind numbing orgasm you pull out of him. It’s replaced by something more carnal, more feral.

Any and all restraint he has all but flies out the window, easily breaking apart the metal links of the handcuffs binding him to your headboard. His hands fly to your hips, fingers digging into the plush fat with a grip that’ll surely leave bruises come the morning.

He’s honestly impressed he was able to hold out that long.

“A-ah, ‘toru wait–” you cry out.

“Nuh-uh. You’ve had your fun,” he tuts, manhandling you until you’re on all fours. “Now let me have mine.”

iii. Take your phone and put it in the camera roll

Satoru Gojo is a lot of things. Overzealous, irresponsible with practiced precision, extremely doting, loud, boisterous, and all the other epithets that barely begin to scratch the surface on the illustrious strongest sorcerer.

His very birth shook the entire country of Japan. His very existence is celebrated as the pinnacle of Jujutsu society. One would assume that the man would be the type to spend his special day in a fashion as grand as himself. He honors each and every one of his students and friends with such grandiose celebrations on their birthdays, so it’s safe to assume he’d hold the same standards for himself. Wrong. He’d much rather spend his day with you, in a much more intimate setting. A safe haven, of sorts, from the chaos and insanity that seems to follow him everywhere. He doesn’t get many days off, so being able to spend time with you is always a blessing no matter what day it is. So you can imagine the fit he threw when you told him to go grab dinner with his friends, and the even bigger fit he threw when he found out you wouldn’t be accompanying him.

With a promise that he’d get more than enough of his fill (of you) later on, you send your boyfriend off with a kiss on the lips that turns into a continuation of what you two have been up to all morning.

He arrives late to his own birthday party in true Gojo fashion.

While Satoru can appreciate the sentiment, he’d much rather be spending the night with you. Alone. In bed. Or on the kitchen counter. Or in the living room.

Although you took him out for brunch at this new restaurant with the fluffiest pancakes he’s ever had (he swears the sauce had crack in it), you told him his birthday wouldn’t be complete if he didn’t at least try and grab a few drinks with his friends. He wanted to argue that being able to spend the whole day with you would have made him feel satisfied, but he could never say no to you.

Which is exactly how he ends up at the local dive bar with some Tokyo and Kyoto peeps. Shoko will use any excuse to drink. So will Nanami, as long as it’s at Satoru’s expense (literally).

Today, 10:29 PM

baby

hey pretty boy u enjoying yourself? come home soon, okay? a little birdy told me your last present is waiting for you at home.

You

not much of a party if you’re not here to enjoy it with me, angel can i get a little hint? 🤪

baby?

baby

1 image delivered.

You

omw.

Satoru merely throws down a couple stacks (which is honestly more than enough to pay for everyone, but Gojo has no concept of how much things should cost) before hastily making his exit for the night.

He doesn’t even bother ordering an uber. Because why should he waste any more time away from his precious baby when he could just teleport home? So he does, straight into your bedroom. You scream out in surprise.

“Jesus fucking Christ Satoru—”

“You don’t get to use that tone with me, pretty girl,” he tuts, eyeing you hungrily, “especially when you’ve been hiding this from me.”

You needed to find a way to get Satoru away from you (which was a damn near impossible task most of the time) so you could figure out how to put on the whole ensemble.

The ‘this’ that Satoru was referring to was a dainty white lace lingerie set that leaves nothing to the imagination. What really takes the cake, however, is the giant baby blue ribbon nestled perfectly on the small of your back. You were wrapped up like his present. And Satoru thinks this is probably the best gift he’ll ever get in his life.

“On all fours, beautiful.”

You do as you’re told like a good girl. You really sell the show by arching your back, practically presenting yourself on a silver platter. Satoru feels his mouth water in anticipation.

“Look here, baby,” Satoru commands. So you do. You realize that he has his phone out, hearing the telltale shutter of his camera. “For keepsakes,” he grins cheekily.

He runs his hand along your backside appreciatively, stopping to squeeze your ass and spread you apart for his viewing pleasure. He thumbs at your puckered hole teasingly, letting out a mean laugh as you squeal.

He gives your pussy a few harsh slaps, fascinated by the strings of your arousal that collect on his fingertips. “That’s it, sweetheart. Look at you, barely even touched you and you’re already falling apart.”

“‘toru, don’t tease,” you whine.

“Is that how I taught you to ask for things?” He gives your ass a rough spank, squeezing at the stinging skin.

You shake your head in the negative, lips wobbling. God, you look so pathetic it drives him insane.

“Thought so. Tell me what you want, properly this time. And I might just give it to you.”

“Please fuck me, ‘toru.”

“You want my cock, baby?”

“Need it,” you whimper.

“Yeah?” he coos, bringing a hand to rub up and down your slit while the other works his lengths out of his slacks. “You gonna let me have my way with you? Do whatever I want with this pussy?”

You whine, nodding desperately. Satoru gives you a feral grin before leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. “Atta girl.”

“I’m going to fuck you so good that you won’t even be able to think about getting up tomorrow. Hope you’re ready, sweetheart. You’ve dug your own grave.”

iv. Come here, baby, let me swallow yo' pride (agoraphilia/exhibitionsism)

“Satoru—”

“Not my name.”

“‘toru, w-wait,” you gasp, trying to push your boyfriend off as he litters your neck with bruises that’ll certainly make themselves known in the morning. He easily takes both of your wrists with one hand and pins them above your head, pushing you flush against the back of the door. The same door, mind you, that’s separating the two of you from the rest of his fellow sorcerers at their annual end of the year celebration.

“Th-There are people outside this door—”

“Well, this isn’t about them, is it?”

Shameless. Absolutely shameless.

“C’mon baby,” he murmurs, pressing his hips against yours. “Just this once.” You know it’s never ‘just once’ with Satoru. You fear for the state of your dress and makeup (along with your dignity) if you give into him right now. “You know I’ll make it up to you later.”

“Your friends are in the other room. They’re going to hear us because you don’t know how to keep your stupid mouth shut.” You let out a choked moan as he slots one of his thighs in between your legs, providing some much needed friction for your aching center.

“That sounds like their problem, if I’m being honest.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously handsome? Persuasive? Oh baby, I know.”

“And an idiot.”

“I’m a genius.”

You roll your eyes with a sigh. “You better make this quick.”

Satoru releases your wrists, grinning as you run your hands up and down his chest before dropping down to your knees. You make quick work of his belt and pants, palming at his cock that’s already started leaking precum through his underwear. “That all depends on you, baby,” he murmurs. “It’s time to put that bratty mouth of yours to good use.”

He pushes his weepy tip past your lips with a soft groan. You lick at the slit just the way he likes and Satoru has to hold back a shudder.

“This is your fault, y’know,” he growls, hands finding purchase in the locks of your hair— which you worked very hard on, by the way. “You just look so pretty. It’s almost like you were asking for it.”

A pathetic whine escapes past your throat, muffled by Satoru’s cock. Satoru shudders from the vibrations.

“That’s it, baby. Fucking choke on it.” He lets out a broken moan as he feels your throat constrict around his cock. You just feel so good. “God, I’m gonna cum. You’re going to make me cum.”

His hands weave themselves through your hair even tighter, as if he’s trying to find something corporeal to anchor himself in the midst of this surreal storm of pleasure.

Your head bumps against the wooden door rhythmically in sync with how Satoru fucks your throat. It’d probably hurt if not for Satoru’s hands protecting the back of your head. If your friends weren’t sure what you two were doing before, they definitely knew now.

Satoru doesn’t feel the least bit ashamed that he finishes in record time, not when your tongue is pressed taut against the underside of his cock.

Your nails dig into the flesh of Satoru’s strong thighs, leaving indents against the freshly pleated satin of his dress slacks.

You’re struggling to take it all. He watches in fascination as a mix of his cum and your spit starts to dribble out of the corners of your mouth. He pulls out of you with a hint of hesitation, immediately missing your warmth while you try and catch your breath. Satoru wipes the cum threatening to drip off your chin with his thumb before pressing the digit against your tongue. It’d be such a waste for it to go anywhere else, after all.

“Swallow it.”

You stare up with him with a lustridden expression as you do what you’re told.

God, you were always so good for him. It’s enough to make him hard again. He intends to make good on his promise to make it up to you very soon. But not here.

He fixes the both of you up to make yourselves somewhat presentable before exuberantly announcing your guys’ departure in true Satoru fashion. You’re privy to the looks of disdain painted on Utahime and Nanami’s faces (mostly directed towards your boyfriend), but you can’t find it in yourself to care as Satoru slides an arm around your waist and pulls you against him.

“Let’s go home.”

v. Got you skippin' work and meetings (slight exhibitionism)

One perk about your job is the ability to work from home. No need to wake up early to get ready, sit in traffic, or deal with awkward and redundant watercooler chats with your older coworkers trying to relate to today’s generation. You have the luxury of working from your home office, with no one to pester you while you slave away at your computer.

Satoru bursts into the room with a cheerful, “Hi baby!”

Everyone except for Satoru, of course.

“Hi...” you whisper, not bothering to face your boyfriend. “I’m about to start my meeting, ‘Toru. I’ll come out once I’m done, ‘kay?”

If you were paying more attention, you’d hear the grumble and see the petulant pout that forms on Satoru’s face at your dismissal.

“Can I sit next to you, at least?”

You keep a chaise next to your workstation for when you want to plop down after a few hours of mind numbing work. Or for times when your extremely clingy boyfriend feels like bothering you while you’re on the clock.

“I’m not bothering you!” He had said once. “I’m keeping you company. Isn’t that nice of me?”

You side-eye him with a look that obviously says no, and Satoru pouts even harder.

But as always, Satoru finds a way to coerce you into getting what he wants. He’s pretty sure you said ‘no’ to him sitting on the chaise, but that doesn’t mean it’s a ‘no’ to him sitting in general, right?

He plops down on the floor under your workstation. He thanks himself for buying you one of those height adjustable desks.

You spare him a quick glance. He almost looks ridiculous with the way he’s hunched under you, cheek pressed against your knees as he hugs both of your legs, pouting.

There’s a joke you want to make about how your boyfriend is akin to an overgrown lap dog with how clingy he is. But you hold your tongue and decide to at least try and pay attention to your computer screen as you enter your debrief.

You can practically hear the pout that’s painted on Satoru’s face with your lack of attention. That just won’t do for him.

He’ll just give you a reason to pay attention to him. That’s fine. Satoru knows how to work for what he wants. And right now, he wants your thighs to suffocate him.

You try your best to focus on what your manager is saying, you really do, but whatever corporate jargon spewing past his lips is lost on you as Satoru moves underneath you, inching himself closer and closer to you while also subtly maneuvering your rolling chair until his face is just shy of being in between your legs.

You want to curse yourself for deciding to stay in your sleep shorts today. Satoru, on the other hand, feels like rejoicing in the fact— because now you’ve just made it so much easier for him. Accessible, even.

He pries your legs open, ignoring the way you try your best to keep them shut. He bullies his broad shoulders between them, preventing any further movement aside from spreading them even further. He examines the fading bruises and love bites littering your inner thighs from your previous sexcapades throughout the week. They’re looking a little too dull for his liking. Satoru decides you’re in desperate need of a touch up.

He pulls your shorts and panties to the side, revealing your glistening cunt. A mix of pride and lust swell within him to know that you’re always ready for him despite your efforts to convince him otherwise. Satoru’s mouth automatically waters in a Pavlovian response. He works his way up your plush thighs, savoring the warm, silky flesh on his tongue as he suckles deep bruises into them.

“Satoru,” you hiss, lacing your fingers through soft white locks before tugging on them harshly. You pull Satoru away from you, his lips leaving your inner thigh with a loud pop.

“Behave.”

You barely move your lips, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention to you on your coworkers’ screens.

It’s a warning if Satoru’s ever heard one. Unluckily for you, Satoru’s way too used to getting his way, brushing past warnings with an air of practiced defiance, paying no heed to any signals for him to concede. (“Signs can’t stop me because I can’t read!”)

Your words do nothing but go straight to his cock. That, coupled with the way you tug at his hair has a moan stumbling straight past his lips without warning.

You quickly glance at your screen and release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding upon confirming that you are indeed on mute. You don’t need your colleagues hearing your whore of a boyfriend moaning like a pornstar in the middle of your weekly recap meeting.

You quickly turn off your camera. They wouldn’t miss you for a few seconds, right?

“I thought I told you to behave.” The hand that was previously gripping Satoru’s hair clamps over his mouth. “Either you stay and be quiet or you leave.”

Cerulean orbs lock with yours before you feel something wet— a tongue, swipe along the inside of your palm. You draw your hand back with a curse, wiping off the saliva with your shirt.

“But babyyy,” he whines, wrapping his arms around your legs and resting his head on your thigh. He looks up at you with his best puppy eyes. You know Satoru well enough to recognize the lustful glint underneath the seemingly innocent gaze. “I haven’t seen you all day, s’not fair. I just miss you.”

“It’s been 4 hours, Satoru.”

“Even one second not being by your side feels like an eternity,” he laments. An overstatement, but Satoru holds every ounce of that statement true in his heart and soul. “I’ll make it quick, promise. Just need to have a little bit of you and I’ll leave you alone.”

Satoru isn’t a beggar. But he’ll be anything you need him to be, especially if it means getting a taste of you.

You both know he won’t leave you alone. The both of you also know that Satoru knows how to work his mouth and your body. He’s already bringing his lips to your clit before you can even nod.

“Good girl.”

Satoru makes out with your pussy sloppily, dragging his tongue along your clit and inside your fluttering hole. His eyes roll back into his skull as you weave your hands through his hair, tugging harshly. Satoru’s brain is practically fried as you squeeze your thighs on either side of his head. His cock throbs against the confines of his sweatpants, tip staining the gray fabric. He palms himself to provide some friction, imagining that it were your hands touching him instead.

“T-toru, I’m so close,” you cry. Satoru laughs meanly.

“Yeah?” he coos, long fingers working their way inside your dripping pussy. “You’re so sensitive. We just started and you wanna cum already?”

“Please.”

“Told you we’d be quick. Cum for me, princess.”

He doesn’t let up as you clench around his fingers. He fucks them into you even faster, making sure to hit that spongey little spot in you with each thrust. He sucks your clit until you’re shaking, refusing to let go even as you try to pull away.

Once he’s decided he’s tortured you enough, he pulls back ever so slightly, reveling in your debauched look. It would’ve been even better if you’d accidentally left your camera or microphone on, so everyone could know how good Satoru gives it to you. (He’s seen a few flirtatious messages from your coworkers via Slack.) Oh well, that’s just an opportunity for next time, he supposes.

He doesn’t bother leaving. To your surprise, (and Satoru’s delight) your team wraps up as soon as you turn your camera back on. A few beats pass by before he breaks the silence. “It’s technically your lunch break, right? How about we finish what we started?”

a/n: i need him in a way that is devastating to mankind. also satoru may be the king of quickies but don’t let that fool you into thinking he can’t go all night

Work belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not repost, translate, or recommend my works on TikTok.

#banner creds to @cafekitsune #night after night he’ll be loving you right 🙏🏼#satoru whos so obsessed that he needs you 7 days a week>>>>>#kat’s writing #kat’s demon time #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojou satoru x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x you

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the-archxr · 2 years

Text

just like in the movies

steve harrington x afab!reader

summary: yours and steve’s friends with benefits situation becomes a whole lot clearer. alternatively, steve promises to fuck you until you realize just how much he loves you.

a/n: *gif isn’t mine, it’s from pinterest* this. THIS IS THE ULTRA SMUTTY SHIT I WAS TALKING ABOUT. WHEN I GOT THIS IDEA I STARTED SWEATING BUCKETS CAUSE HOLY FUCK. ONE OF THE SMUTTIEST THINGS IVE EVER WRITTEN (I listened to a lot of the weeknd, so I’m not surprised).

warnings: +18 content, SMUT CITY, minors dni; unprotected p in v; use of 80s sex toys (steve bought her a vibrator); jealous!steve/romantic!steve/dom!steve; size kink (steve has a monster schlong); hair pulling kink; biting; overstimulation; praise kink; boob play; masturbation; dirty talk to the fucking MAX (steve calls her a slut); mentions of multiple orgasms; use of different positions; rough sex; oral sex f receiving (cum eating); steve’s breeding kink; mentions of porno movies (this is also prolly the plot of a porno honestly 🙃) lil’ bit of fluff

word count: 7.1k (of pure smut babyy)

main m.list | steve harrington m.list

part one (can also be read on its own)

•••

To say you were unsatisfied would be an understatement.

The understatement of the goddamn century.

An hour ago you drove to Rick’s house, where he proceeded to have sex with you, only to cum within the first five minutes of hardly-there foreplay. You hadn’t even realized he finished until he was shuddering into the condom, stroking your hair as though you were a prized possession. A sex toy to let out his lack of stamina on. You had pretended to cum while he was still lost in his high, hoping that you wouldn’t have to deal with the eventual lecture of how it was ‘you’re fault’ that you were ‘too tense’.

Rick wasn’t your first rodeo for guys like that, but part of you hoped it would be different for your first time. That he would be different. He would be caring and attentive and make sure you came first.

You hoped he’d be like Steve.

You hoped that he’d kiss your knuckles and rest his face in your neck as he came. You hoped that he would’ve mumbled praise after praise in your ear as he slowly brought you to that edge before tossing you off with a bite on your collarbone.

Or…

You hoped that he would’ve at least, lasted longer than twenty fucking minutes.

But no. The little shit didn’t even give you a chance to build up your arousal whatsoever. Not even to the point where you would at least be able to finish in the safety of his bathroom.

Thinking back on it, you’re not even too sure he realized you had faked it. That the shitty, high-pitched moan you let out was false, and that he wasn’t in fact ‘giving it to you’, regardless of how many times he mumbled that above you.

The entire thing was stupid. Silly and irreparable and downright annoying.

Because an hour ago you left to go have what was supposed to be really good sex.

And a half hour ago you came home to sit on an empty couch, in your empty house—extremely horny and far hungrier for something that wasn’t microwave mac n’ cheese.

You needed to be fucked. Properly, until you were drooling and unable to speak.

So really, without a second thought, you left your dinner plate on the kitchen counter with your keys still stuffed in your pocket and a new sense of determination.

•

The drive to Steve’s apartment was familiar. A second nature route that guided you from one end of town to the next, up the stairs of his apartment and to number 38. What wasn’t familiar though was the locked front door.

Regardless of the monstrosities—the mind flayer, the bad men, Billy—Hawkins, Indiana was still Hawkins, Indiana. A boring small town in the middle of nowhere full of endless country dried up plains and empty streets.

This meant that other than hicks, and the occasional sense of the end of the world, there was nothing to even be remotely afraid of. And really, nothing that would warrant your friend to lock his door: something he has never once done in all of the years you’ve known him.

There’s a part of your mind that prickles with nerves.

So you knock.

It’s loud and curt and would leave enough room for you to hear the sounds of padding feet. Or any sign of life for that matter. So you wait. You wait for one, two, nearly four minutes and yet you hear nothing.

So you knock again, only to be met with dead silence again.

You go to knock for the third time, but then your ears pick up on a whimper. A low sob which is hardly discernible until it’s accompanied by a crackle of television and a creak of the floor. Putting your ear to the door, you concentrate on trying to pick up on any other sound you can.

But after nothing happens, you choose to dig through your pockets until you come across the spare key he gave you.

Pushing it in, you slowly turn the lock until you hear a soft click and the door falls open. His apartment is dark. Pitch black, with the only semblance of light coming in from the thick curtains covering the living room window.

“Steve?”

Quiet.

“Steve?”

The agitation that tickles you at the back of your neck morphs into fear. Because Steve is usually a light sleeper. One of the lightest sleepers you know, easily woken up by something as soft as the sound of rain. So with no response and a locked door, your heart jumps at the possibility of something horrible.

Gone is the thought of your needy arousal. Now you worry about your friend's life and what you’ll find when you come across his body.

If you come across his body.

You’ve had nightmares like this. All eerily similar to the current events playing out. It all begins like this with you walking through his kitchen and down the main hall, only to end in the worst.

The bedroom door is closed, having been forced shut without any lock on it. The air surrounding you—frigid and nail-biting—feels like death. Completely lifeless other than the light of the tv bleeding out from under the door.

The faint sounds come back, but as hard as you try to listen, you can’t make them out at all. And though that still concerns you, it doesn’t deter you. Everything acts like a magnet, drawing you closer to the source of the noise and the end of the mystery that causes your heart to slam against your ribs.

Your hand grabs ahold of the doorknob and as you open the door slowly, you start to realize what exactly you’re hearing.

And what you’re seeing.

Through the small space, you can see…a movie. It takes you a second to understand what you’re seeing, but when it finally clicks, you can’t help but feel flushed. There are flashing images of a woman bouncing on what looks like a guy dressed in a pizza delivery costume. Over-exaggerated echoey moans are then met with softer noises. Ones that sound as though they’re coming from right beside you. Instinctually you look to your left, only to find Steve in a compromising position. He’s lying on his bed in the corner of the room, spread eagle, pants by his ankles and cock in his fist.

His hand is tight around his length, pumping quick and hard as his hairy thighs flail around. His head is flat on the pillow, jaw wide open as he mumbles incoherently, twitching every time his thumb runs over his tip.

You gulp at the sight, legs tightening together both at the perversion of watching him and in hope of bringing some sort of relief.

He looks beautiful like this.

Granted, Steve Harrington is always beautiful. Pretty beyond words. Soft hair and honey eyes and strong hands covered in moles and freckles and the evidence of a life lived.

He’s like a deity. A demi-god of sorts, like the kind you learned about in your junior year ancient history class. Hercules and Perseus. Man and god, divine and mundane.

Beautiful and otherworldly.

You can tell he’s close, chest rising in shallow puffs of stunted air. His fingers tighten against himself; squeezing the base and dragging upward, only to repeat the motion again even faster.

You shouldn’t be watching this.

But you can’t look away.

“Steve?”

You scare him shitless. He jumps, nearly ten feet off the bed only to flop on his stomach and onto the ground. He seemingly disappears, the only thing visible of him being a hand that frantically searches for the remote.

“Jesus fucking Christ, —!” He shuffles around on the ground for a bit, yanking on his pants as he grabs a pillow and covers his hard-on. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Throwing your hands up in the air, you turn on the bedside lamp closest to you, yellow light warming up the room as your eyes readjust. “I—I thought you were hurt!” You stutter.

“Hurt? What do you mean hurt?”

Huffing, you force yourself to keep looking at him and not the incredibly dirty image paused on the tv screen. “Your door was locked.”

His eyes widen. “…what?”

“Your door was locked, Steve, your doors never locked. I was worried.”

“So?” He yelps, taking the remote and permanently turning the tv off. A red flush deepens across his face, swirling down his neck and blooming beneath the collar of his shirt. “You don’t just walk into someone’s house when their door is locked.”

“You gave me a key, and you didn’t respond when I called out for you.” You roll your eyes, averting your gaze to the floor as embarrassment starts to take over. “How the fuck was I supposed to know you were jacking off?”

Groaning, Steve falls backward into the bed, hands flying up to cover his eyes. Shaking his head, his palms dig into his eye sockets. “Gross, don’t say that—“

“What? Jacking off?!”

“Yes, it’s—it’s just—“

“That’s what you were doing!”

“It’s my home!” He whines, looking away to continue avoiding you. “If I want to jack off with my door locked then that’s what I’ll fucking do!”

You blink at him in bewilderment, anxiety running you both to the ground as you try to ignore the other. With a long sigh, Steve crosses his arms and blinks up at the ceiling, giving way to the silent dance you both are partaking in. It isn’t until he’s running a large hand through his sweaty hair, that he exhales deeply. “What are you doing here anyway? …Thought you were out with Dick.”

“Rick,” you correct.

“Same difference.”

“It’s really not,” you snap. Wringing your hands out, you lean against the wall, jitters running up your arms as the tension in the air slowly begins to disperse. You feel incredibly exposed, the memory of why you’re actually here coming back to the forefront of your mind. Shaking your head, you bit at your cheek. “Anyways, it doesn’t matter now ‘cause it didn’t end well. Probably won’t see him anymore.”

If Steve has any reaction, any thoughts or comments or feelings on the matter, you don’t see them. His expression is unreadable. “Is—did he do something wrong?” He finally says.

You laugh. A half-hearted chuckle as you fall onto the edge of the bed, much like you’ve done a million times before. “It’s more like what didn’t he do.” He doesn’t respond, but his gaze does shift over to you. He waits for you to continue; eyes imploring you to do so while he sits there. Groaning, you lie down beside him. “Well I went there to y’know…we were going to…anyway… We’re doing it, right? Like we’re getting ready and then—then he ends up coming like the second he puts on the fucking condom.”

“…Jesus.”

“Right?” You grit your teeth at the memory. All the frustration from earlier bubbles over into word vomit; things you weren’t exactly planning on telling Steve but can no longer stop from escaping. The proverbial cracking dam. “And then, oh, and then the fucking kicker! When he’s done pretty much fucking himself, he has the audacity to ask me if I came. Ya know the whole—“ you lower your voice with a cough. “‘Was it as good for you as it was for me?’ type bullshit.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Steve's grimace. “Gross.”

“Ugh, I know!” You cry, squirming in your spot on the mattress. “Like shit, I didn’t even want to go over, but I was lonely and…and I guess I thought that maybe it would be different?” You let out a sigh, an exasperated sound as you stretch your body out. “But Jesus, if I knew what I know now I wouldn’t have even wasted the fucking time.”

The two of you sit in silence again; shoulders touching with your fingers dangerously close to intertwining with the other. There’s a different kind of strain on the situation—a different feeling that graces both of your equally frustrated selves.

Steve still holds the pillow over his crotch, fingers digging into the corner of it every time he shifts his hips; a gesture that you’re intensely aware of and acutely turned on by.

Except you reason that maybe you lost the moment.

Maybe you imagined too much for tonight, and you jeopardized everything.

Your original purpose for being here was lost to time, mixed up in enough confusion and shock to shadow your moody arousal. And now, you’re just sad. A painfully lonely person who’s just beginning to realize how painfully lonely they are. Pathetic to the point where you have to go to your friend to try and get your rocks off, only for him to not want you either.

You don’t even try to stick around to ask him if he wants you.

Part of you thinks maybe he fell asleep, but then he stirs as you get up and stride toward the door. “Where are you going?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you tug at the wrinkles in your shirt. “I’m sorry, I—I just wanted to talk. But I…I should go home.”

Steve’s hand wraps around your forearm pulling you towards him. He doesn’t say anything, though, with the way he strokes circles into your elbow, you consider that he doesn’t have to. “Why are you here, —?”

“I told you,” you sigh. “I was lonely. I just—I needed to talk. But we talked and you’re…you’re clearly busy, so it’s okay. It’s okay, Steve, I’ll see you tomor—“

“Are you still lonely?”

The even pace of your heartbeat stutters. “What?”

He gulps then, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his eyes squint together. There’s something he’s concentrating on or something he’s holding himself back from. You can’t exactly tell. But you can see that it’s bothering him. That whatever he’s thinking is especially troublesome as it hangs in the balance between you. “Are you still lonely?” You frown.

“I don’t know what you mean, Ste—“

“Cause I think you are.” He mumbles, pulling your hand closer to his face, twisting and turning it delicately in his grasp as he inspects you. “I think you need the company, sweetheart.” He places a butterfly kiss on the main vein on the inside of your wrist. “And I also think you need a good fucking orgasm.”

Oh.

The pit of your stomach opens wide at his words. A gaping hole that plummets with the fire of his touch, with the way his hair falls in his face, and with the way he looks at you.

He looks at you like you’re everything. Like you don’t really exist, and you’re nothing but a mirage.

One that is only tailored to him.

You’re still when he stands up, not even moving when his hands come up to your shoulders and his mouth lands on your cupid’s bow. You softly exhale. “…And not just from some rich douchebag…” his knuckles stroke your forehead, face’s already slanting together—an assumed position as your body complies with him. “You need to be fucked by someone who cares, honey.”

You roll your eyes and grumble, a surge of confidence washing over you. “Like who? …like you?”

He smirks at your quip, at your ability to bite back even in the heat of the moment. Pressing his lips to your mouth, he hums. “You don’t know the half of it.”

Kissing him back, your hands smooth over his chest, down his stomach and to the edge of his Henley. You’re already breathless, having all the air in your lungs been kissed away in a matter of seconds. He has you against the wall, making a mess of your mouth as he sloppily kisses you. “Well then show me…” you nip at his upper lip and sigh into him, taking the time to breathe and examine the solemn look on his face. “Show me how much you care.”

You don’t even need to ask him twice.

Instantly, Steve undresses, guiding you to the bed with wandering pesky fingers tugging at the hem of your own shirt.

His mouth is everywhere, bruising kisses searing into every span of skin; every body part revealed as he removes your clothes piece by piece. Slow. Tantalizing. A mix of having intense control over himself, and none at all.

As though he can’t make up his mind when it comes to you.

His lips are wet, red and raw as they glide over your chin, down your neck and to your collarbone, only to mouth at the flesh above your bra.

Wherever his mouth isn’t, his hands are.

One palm lays flat against your knee, forcing them apart so that way he can nestle between your thighs, legs dangling precariously off the bed. He kisses you like his life depends on it, going back and forth between your face and your chest as he moves the strap of your bra down your arm.

Holding your jaw in place, he squeezes your cheeks until your mouth is wide enough for him to jam his tongue into. His kisses are filthy, frenzied and passionate, yet slow and steady all the same. He’s doing everything and nothing as he works you. The slow start-up of an engine. Preparation for a long fucking night.

Your tongues battle for dominance as your hands card through his hair, holding him in place as you begin your own assault on his lips. Tugging on his head by his roots, he moans loudly before jutting his hips into yours. Pulling away, your spit covers his lips only to be smeared along your neck as he sucks a bruise right below your ear. “You’re so fucking pretty, ya know that? That guy doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

Your heart thrums at his words. At the angsty confession that sounds a lot like what you’ve been wanting to hear, yet being nothing of the sort.

Contrary to popular belief—to the rumours spread through the halls of Hawkins High and what you’ve overheard from a string of dates leaving Family Video—Steve Harrington is a romantic at heart. And part of you has always known that. Has always assumed his hidden desire to have someone need him as much as he needs them. You could see it everywhere you went; in the longing looks he’s sent to couples walking out and about, to Nancy and Johnathon when they get so easily wrapped up in each other on movie night.

The girls that left him all complained to you and Robin about him being ‘preoccupied’; too caught up in the idea of love to appreciate what was actually in front of him. Apparently, too caught up in the idea of another person to truly care about them.

The notion always seemed silly to you. The idea that Steve couldn’t and wouldn’t give his hundred-and-ten percent to the person he was with, when he oh-so-desperately wanted them. It was stupid. Entirely blind on their part to not see how incredibly devoted your friend could be.

And that was never more the case than when you actually started hooking up with him.

It was a random night, one where you both were lonely and a little too pent up to handle yourselves, that you decided on it. At the time it seemed like the easiest thing in the world. Something you could move forward with, without any fears or doubts or worries.

Steve made you feel safe. And somehow, someway that fact only increased whenever you had sex. There was a point, in which Steve had gone down on you for the first time, subsequently pulling two orgasms from you in a matter of minutes, that you realized you would never feel more protected than with him.

It was a daunting thing when you finally decided to become friends with benefits. Part of you knew from the get-go it would ruin your perceptions of other people. But the other part couldn’t be bothered at all, especially not when you entertained yourself. Because you dreamt about it sometimes. You dreamt of another world where you and Steve had no boundaries, where you were free to be as you were, free to be with each other in every way as you wanted.

Your body freezes at that.

Steve hasn’t noticed, too caught up in suckling at your left nipple while his thumb and index finger roll your right one around. Your bra is long gone, discarded to the floor along with both of your shirts.

Your mind, which had been empty other than mulling over your thoughts on the man biting at your breast, has now drifted to the realization.

Did you want Steve like that?

The question sits on your tongue; tasting of burnt ash and trepidation as your eyes roam over his body. He’s crooning into your skin, hips rolling with every whine, rutting his hardened length into your still fully clothed core. The moon shines on his back, tracing over the muscles rippling beneath the skin, veins growing taut in his forearms as he holds your body still.

You love him.

And it’s not necessarily an astonishing conclusion. If anything, there hadn’t been a point in time where you’ve looked at Steve and hadn’t felt immense love. Because knowing him and not being hopelessly in love with him was impossible.

This was Steve after all. Your Steve.

The one who fights for his friends and loves aimlessly and has a big heart that begs to be nurtured because he’s never had that. He’s the one who cares for Dustin—his friend and his brother. He’s a shoulder to cry on and a lover and a fighter.

But most importantly, he’s quite possibly the love of your life.

You don’t realize he’s stopped until you catch him blinking at you. His thumb which had come up to your cheek, runs along your cheekbone and wipes at your temple in the most tender of ways. “Everythin’ okay?”

You want to say it. You want to tell him everything you’ve just realized. Every conclusion and emotion and thought that he incurs in you. You want to tell him that you see him. That you love him. That you want him and need him in ways he may never understand.

Because with the way his hips jerk forward, practically dry humping you as he looks up at you with the biggest doe eyes—innocence and erotica all rolled into one—you realize you may not be able to control yourself. You need him to fuck you, but you also need him to know how loved he really is.

So you tell him.

“I love you.” He halts, lifting off of you slightly in a daze. He looks you dead in the eye, disbelief and shock shrouding his features. Offering him a lazy smile, you choose to let go of everything. “I love you so goddamn much, Steve.”

He doesn’t say anything, but he shakes beneath you. His breathing is shallow, fingers nervously trembling against your sides. For a second, you worry that he doesn’t feel the same. Mistaking his silence for disinterest, you begin to shuffle up the bed, worrying that this was it. That in moments you had fucked everything over.

“Holy shit, —.” He mumbles, fully sitting back on his knees. His gaze doesn’t meet yours, but it never leaves your body. You can’t tell if he’s happy or upset or scared, and the feeling eats away at you. “…You can’t…you can’t say shit like that, sweetheart.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, throat closing up in impeding sobs. “I’m sorr—“

“You can’t…” letting out a groan, Steve crawls back up your body, caging you in between his broad shoulders and the bed. You can see his eyes now, the way he stares you down and the way something darker floods his irises. Though, his expression is the all-too-familiar look he always seems to give you. Leaning down, his lips curl around the edge of your ear, hot breath invading your senses. You take note of how he smells of citrus and mousse, how nice the concoction is as he lets out another shaky breath. “You can’t say stuff like that and not expect me to fuck the shit out of you.”

…Well, fuck…

“I mean…” Steve hops off the bed after planting a kiss on your forehead and walks to his closet. He talks to you as he rummages through his things, determined to find the exact thing he’s looking for. “I mean you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that, baby.” Taking a box from the top shelf he walks it over to you and places it on the nightstand. Then, with just as much ease as before, he swoops down and captures your mouth in another mind-numbing kiss. Except this time, there’s an added urgency behind it. One he’s never had before. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you like this.”

While nipping at your chin, he opens the box and pulls out a small and colourful cylindrical object. It’s pale purple with a series of buttons on the bottom of it. You frown once you see it.

“Stevie, what’s that?”

He can’t control the wolfish grin spreading across his face. Nuzzling further into your throat, he sucks and licks and bites until you’re too distracted by your own sighs. “It’s um…it’s my surprise for you, honey. Got it the other day. Saw it and immediately thought of you.”

“What…” another breathy moan as he bucks into you. “What does it do?”

Clicking his tongue, he gropes your boob, massaging the tender flesh. “Something fun,” is his only reply.

Placing it beside your head, he leans back and begins to unbutton your pants. You stiffen a bit, as he works wordlessly to relieve you of your other clothes. Your interest only seems to spur him on, make him work quicker as he pushes you down flat to the bed. There’s a sudden string of melodies that escape then, as though he’s fucking singing to himself. Content and relaxed as he pulls your jeans down your legs.

You think it’s Wham!, maybe Careless Whisper if you tried to listen hard enough. But you can’t particularly focus when he looks up to you and beams like that. Evident excitement making his body stretch upward and his dick twitch in the tent of his pants. “God, you’re gonna love this, baby. Need you to relax though. M’promise I’ll make you feel good.”

Whining, you grab his shoulders and pull him down to your level. “Why don’t you just fuck me already, Harrington?”

“Patience is a virtue, babe.” Grabbing the device he presses the button, triggering a high whirring sound to emanate from it. “Besides, gotta loosen you up first.”

And with that, he presses the head of the object to your cunt, reeling in the way your eyes widen and your jaw falls slack.

The sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. It isn’t the comforting feeling of your fingers gliding over you or of Steve’s tongue flicking at your hood. Instead it’s a steady vibration that rumbles your entire body, catching your arousal in its grasp instantaneously.

There’s a sharp gasp lodged in your throat, fighting to be released as you grapple for oxygen. Steve’s body still hangs over you, eyes transfixed on the way your face contorts with every movement he controls.

Sometimes when he flicks his wrist, moving the massaging head of the device to your already fluttering hole, you let out a long strangled moan. But the other times, when he presses the device right into your clit while his mouth wraps around your nipple and his other hand massages your lower belly, you can’t help but whine repeatedly.

Your thighs have begun to quiver as he slowly increases the pace of the object (which you didn’t even think was possible to begin with). Your hand flies to his shoulder, nails digging into the muscle as your head falls back.

“You like that, honey?” Steve growls into your chest as he hitches one of your legs over his hip. “‘Course you do. My little slut likes anything I give her, don’t you?”

You nod erratically, back aching as he presses the beating device harder into you. “Just…oh my god, Steve, please, I…”

“Look at you… Can’t even fucking talk, you feel so good.” A broad hands runs down the expanse of your stomach, running over your hip before slightly smacking the curve of your ass. You fly forward, sitting up completely as you try to trap his hand in between your thighs. “Told you this would be fun.”

You cry out, heart pounding against his as you press your breasts into his chest. “Stevie, please. Wanna cum so bad.”

He chuckles, resting his chin on the top of your head as his hand continues it’s descent down your body. “I know, baby, I know.” His knuckles circle your entrance before two thick fingers jam themselves into you.

“Fuckfuckfuck—“ you whimper as you bite at the tendon in his neck. Your toes curl in tandem with the fingers he moves along your walls, continuously hitting that sweet spot within you.

“Come on, baby, come for me… Come on.”

Your orgasm slams into you at what seems like new heights. Gripping his body tightly, you arch into him body rocking on the device with every wave of your high. Coming and going, back and forth until your knuckles are white and sweat lines your back and the sheets beneath you.

You shake violently in his arms, heavy pants racking your chest as dizziness clouds your mind. Your gaze stays stuck on the ceiling as you try to come to, your own feeble attempt to ground yourself. You feel the bed dip as rough hands smooth over the bones in your hips, rubbing small, tight circles in the skin above your mound. “That was—that was good, baby. Did so good for me.” His voice draws you back to reality, your gaze drifting around the room to find his. He peeks over your body, messy hair and hooded eyes that darken as he stares ahead.

Your hand—which feels limp hanging in midair—flies to his skull, gripping the roots of his hair and tugging him forward. “Steve, I…I want you to…please, want your cock.”

“Mhm,” he inhales the scent of you, nose just hitting your swollen clit. “And I want this pretty pussy of yours.” Deep brown eyes flash up to you, a powerful sneer morphing the lines of his mouth. “Good girls wait their fucking turn.”

Your head lolls back the second he begins to lap at your core. A shrill sound, something close to a cry but still not quite, escapes you. He mouths at the space between your clit and your hole, groaning into your folds as he adjusts his grip on your legs.

A puff of hot air hits you, spine trembling as his lips tug at your hood. “Oh my—fuck, Steve. Steve, please—“

“Please, what? I’m doing what you asked, pretty girl.” Another lick—a smooth and slow flat press of his tongue. “I’m fucking you like you deserve, so just…” he groans, removing himself from you before spitting on your cunt and diving back in. “Just. Fucking. Take it.”

Dammit, this man was going to be the fucking death of you.

He eats you out like he’s starved. Like he’s been locked away for days, weeks—shit, years—and is just finally getting access to a good meal. A bountiful feast, all for him and only him.

His stubble burns you as you jump his face, gnawing at the inside of your cunt and thighs until they’re raw. The pressure builds yet again, deep within your gut and permeating your bones. You hold him there, smothering him entirely as he either gulps for air, or for more of you. Regardless, he’s tasting every inch of you and soon he’s sucking at you even faster.

“Ste—Steve, just—oh my god, right there. Right there, please, please, please!”

Your second orgasm slaughters you where you lie. The pleasure is blinding, almost intangible as you ride his mouth. An endless slew of moans and sharp intakes of breath accompany your convulsing body. Somehow he’s still breathing, still soldiering on as he eats up everything you have to offer him.

It’s incredibly dirty. Raw and pornographic. A purely sleazy sight of him enjoying himself on the orgasm he just pulled from you.

Eventually he lets go of you, leaning up on his forearms and wiping away at the dripping cum on his chin.

He licks his lips then, a free hand trailing up to his messy hair and pushing it out of the way. Steve licks his lips, like a murderous predator eyeing its next prey; toying with its meal as it rolls in delight. “You taste,” he sucks yet another hickey into your breast. “So good.” He moans out the words, rolling his bare hips into you. He’s completely naked now, having taken off his pyjama pants sometime between unfurling his fingers in you and latching his mouth to your clit. He completely engulfs you, member sliding between your slick folds; twitching at the wonderful tension he’s been building. The friction is unbearable, deliciously combining with the taste of yourself on his tongue.

He kisses your mouth in the same way he kissed your cunt. Slow and lazy, an attempt to devour you whole.

“I love you so fucking much, y’know that?” Taking your hand he kisses each finger, your palm, the back of your hand and then your knuckles. “Loved you for a long time. A long, long time.”

You sigh into his chest, tears of relief burning at the corners of your eyes. There’s a gaping feeling within you, deep in the pit of your belly that carnally craves him. Despite already having had two orgasms, you’re hungry for another; for whatever he’ll give you.

You want his cock, want to feel him fill you to the point where you’re breaking in half. You need to feel the burn in your pelvis and the cured ache in your core.

You need him.

So, so fucking bad.

“Want you,” you grumble. Your throat is hoarse, pained from all the whines and the screaming and the moans of pleasure. You’re clawing at him, yanking and pulling at his limbs until he’s impossibly close. “Please, please, please, want you.”

Steve is unfazed as he keeps kissing you. Nearly every spot on your body is touched by his mouth, caressed by his tongue and bit by his teeth. Somehow, as much as he’s been grinding into you, as much as you can tell he wants to fuck your abused hole, he controls himself.

Tapping on your nose with feather-light touches, he gently kisses your eyelids. “Want what? Gotta use your words if you want my cock, baby.” Pumping himself above your stomach, he presses the underside of his dick along your belly and drags it, right above the spot where you want him most. “You want my cock, hm? Want me to fill you up like the good little slut you are?”

You don’t even nod. Instead, you just widen your legs and open up to him even more, pouting as you blink at him. “Want your cock so bad, Stevie. Wanna be yours. Please, please give me…just, fuck me hard.”

Smirking, he runs a hand up and down your thigh. “Are you mine?”

Your feel your face contort, confusion twisting your features as you gasp for air. And though you’re partially confused, a little curious and a little too far gone to fully understand his request, you simply smile.

“Yes. Yours. All yours.”

Steve growls, actually growls before taking two fistfuls of your hips and flipping you over onto your stomach. “Up, pretty girl,” he gestures to your lower back.

You do as he says, unable to stifle the smile of elation as he manhandles you. Pressing your head into the pillow, you push your hips up only to feel him directly behind you. His hand rests on the globe of your ass, tenderly stroking the curve of your spine as he gets you into position. He’s up on his knees, adjusting himself to fit your slit as he pulls you back into him.

“Wanna know what I was thinking about before you caught me earlier?”

You groan. “Jesus Christ, Steve, just shut up and fuck me already.”

He laughs, then lays a smack on your bum before shoving the fat head of his dick into you. Crying out you fall forward, frantic to feel him further. “You need to learn to stop being so impatient, —.” Pushing himself by another inch, he stops and stays there. Him stretching you out is a torturous event, one that pains you as your hands ball up the sheets. “Anyways, as I was saying…” his hand smooths down your back and to your neck, holding you in place by the nape. “I was thinking about this. ‘Bout you underneath me.” He kisses you in between your shoulders. “…Was thinking about fucking you from behind… Like this.”

With those words he slams into you, the tip of him hitting your cervix while his hips remain flush with yours.

You gasp, inhaling the smell of sweat and sex as you shake around him. “Oh my god, Steve, I—holy, fuck, that’s good, feel so good. Fucking me so good, Stevie.”

He takes a minute to breathe, to collect himself before completely bottoming out and shoving back in. Your walls clench around him, the heavy drag of his length making you shiver as he starts off at a slow pace.

Steve’s always been big. You had assumed as such from the rumours spread around school that there was something a little extra special about Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington. But it wasn’t until when you first had sex with him when he had rid himself of his pants and stood before you entirely nude that you realized that he definitely had something to show for it.

At first, you were nervous, weren’t entirely too sure that you could take him in the way you wanted so much.

But then when he finally entered you for the first time, and every other time after that, you came to the conclusion that you wouldn’t want anything—or anyone—else.

He stretches you out perfectly. An amazing fit that only increases every time you feel his bulge in your lower abdomen. “Faster.” You pant. “Harder, fuck, harder.”

His hand fully circles your neck, gently pulling you back with just enough pressure to make you see stars. The harsh snap of his hips sends you spiralling, obscenities spilling out of you as your third orgasm comes and goes. It all happens so quickly, to the point where you can’t even process the fact that you came yet again.

And although it feels good—fucking great, even—it’s still not enough.

You’re incredibly sensitive, eyes rolling into the back of your skull with every thrust. The sound of balls slapping against your ass fill the air, a medley of noises—just like the ones coming from the tv earlier—keying you higher and higher.

“Christ, you feel so good, honey. So good… I’m so fucking in love with you.” Another thrust rattles your body. Your bones are weak, muscles so sore that you can’t even keep yourself up. And Steve can tell, has half a mind to help you out.

Hooking one arm around your stomach, and with the other still, on your neck, he pulls you up into his lap. Your legs rest on either side of his thighs as he bounces you up and down on his dick. His back is pressed tightly to you, allowing you to hook your arm around his neck until his chin hangs over your shoulder. “Steve…Steve, I’m gonna cum. Fucking me so good, so, so, so good.”

He roughly kisses the side of your face, mouth hanging wide open on your cheekbone. “I know, baby, I know… No one fucks you this good, huh? No one—no one makes you cum on their dick like I do.”

“Oh…ohmygod, ohmygod. No, no one fucks me like you do, Steve. Please. Please, fuckfuckfuck.”

Pushing his hand into your abdomen, he holds you in place as he spears into you. Fire, an aching burning passion, licks at the base of your spine as heat pools in the knot of your belly. It feels so good it hurts; so numbing that you can’t do anything but sit and wait for your climax to crash over you. Because, painfully, you’re right on the edge. Steve strains behind you. “Gonna’ cum too, baby. Gonna fill you up, fill you up until I’m fucking spilling out of you.”

You’re babbling into the air as your head falls backward. With your eyes screwed shut, your hand falls to Steve’s knee while a fourth orgasm rips through you. You scream at the feeling of him annihilating your insides and sending you into orbit. It’s almost like you’re in space, gravity falling from your weightless body as Steve rams into you in a brutal rhythm.

“So, so beautiful, baby. Look even prettier with my cock in you.” At this point, he’s rotating you down onto his lap instead of thrusting up into you. Sweat beads down his forehead and onto your chest as his groin tightens. His dick grows bigger, swelling inside of you while he grunts and growls and lets out the prettiest sounds into your ear.

“Gonna make you a mom one day, baby. Fuck you until you’re round and full and everyone, even fucking Rick, knows you’re mine.”

He moans ‘I love you’s’ into your shoulder, biting down onto the junction of your neck as he empties inside of you. Ropes of warmth spread throughout your cunt as he fucks you through his orgasm.

His chest heaves as he falls forward with you, collapsing onto the bed in a frenzied mess of aching limbs and satisfied hums.

He catches his breath quicker than you do, contended sighs and soft kisses along your spine as you both settle down. He moves down your body until he lands on your hips, before gliding his mouth back up to your cheek. He kisses you for the millionth time that night. “…Were you serious? Ya know, did you mean what you said?”

You smile into the blanket, using what little strength you have left to roll over onto him. Tangling your fingers in his hair, you mouth at his neck and collarbone, kissing Steve tenderly in the way he truly deserves.

“Every word.”

•••

Steve Harrington Taglist (+18)

@freaky-dcaky @spideyssunflower @detectivecarisi-1 @superfanmixromancepony @bookfrog242 @spectorfilms @serrendiipty @keepingitlokiii @v0idl1nq @blindedbyyourgrace17 @mrmoonman @emileebert14 @wordle233 @demirunner @randomlyblue @sad-innit @smarie7543 @scoopsahoyharrington @moonknightyws @imanilizabeth @gracie-marvel @liltimmyst @asbisexualasitgets @heihei2221 @thirstynymph @bludhavents @steveslittlesunflower @tiaamberxx @crying-caro

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things x fem!reader #stranger things smut #stranger things #joe keery #st4 #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfic #the-archxr writes

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hannah-h-pleb · 9 months

Note

HANNAH PLEASEEEEEEE

Eric bragging to his friends about how loud you are in bed and how pretty you look when you’re crying from just his tongue. Literally none of them believe him, even Kenny is skeptical 💀💀

Because like, Cartman? Eric Cartman who’s not shit in bed??? Eric Cartman who’s slept with his gf??? They simply don’t believe it and it’s just him desperately trying to convince them for a sec

Harley you’re a genius. I’m sorry it took so long to get to this. But since I’m feeling extra silly let’s really talk about it

Gonna write these as headcanons but who knows, maybe I’ll write a blurb about it 🤭

Eric Cartman x Reader: Bragging to His Friends About You

Content Advisory: Smut (18+), minors DNI, aged up characters (think “college AU”)

When you and Eric first got together, everyone immediately assumed he was going to be abusive towards you the same way he was with Heidi back in the day. Miraculously this claim was proven to be false as they watched Eric treat you with actual respect, although there were some that still claimed it was “fake” or that he was just “manipulating you”. Therefore another claim was made about you and Eric…”Their sex life must be horrible!” “There’s no way she actually sleeps with him” “I bet he has a tiny dick”

Even Eric’s closest friends, Stan, Kyle, and Kenny, all had their doubts about Eric’s performance in bed. They pinned him as one of those guys who brags about the size of his dick when in reality, it’s not that big. Therefore, they found it really hard to believe that Eric could actually successfully please his girlfriend in bed

Plot twist….he really does…and nobody believes it. But you on the other hand, you’ve experienced it…..

Eric was never one to coddle you in bed. He wasn’t one of those “soft and sweet” boys in the bedroom. When you guys do it, it’s rough, primal, and downright kinky. Eric was pleasantly surprised to find out that you actually enjoyed how rough he was and it only agged him on to give it to you harder. He could be kind to you of course, but when he gets you alone it’s a completely different story

He’s mean. He does one of two things while eating you out: He edges you on his tongue, or he continues to eat you out after you orgasm to overstimulate you. No matter which option he chooses, he aims to make you cry on his tongue whether it be by begging him to let you cum or begging him to stop because “it’s too much”

He would also make you ride his face as he eats you out. This way he could grip your thighs and hold you down on his face while he edges or overstimulates you to his hearts content

Eric is almost always in control and he wants you to know that. He controls your orgasms, he owns your body, he will fuck you as hard he was wants, use whatever toys he wants, and you don’t get a say in any of it. To some, this seems cruel, but to you the feeling of being utterly powerless under Eric and letting him hold all the cards is just so hot. Plus this man loves control so he thrives on making you a needy mess for him

He wants you to beg for what you want. In fact, he wants you to prove how much you want his cock by making you ride one of his dildos before giving you his cock. “Prove it. Prove to me how bad you want this cock. Go on, show me that you’re a good whore and maybe I’ll give it to you”

And when he finally fucks you he shows no mercy. He manhandles you, forcing you down into a mating press and fucking you as hard as he wants. Or, he bends you over and fucks you into the mattress while pulling on your hair, smacking your ass, or digging his nails into your skin. Even if you’ve came for him once or twice already, it’s not over until he says it is or until he gets tired

He has surprisingly good stamina though. The adrenaline rush he gets from the control he holds over you is enough motivation for him to keep going until he can’t. Once again, if he’s not making you cry, he’s far from finished

Your crying and sobbing only turns him on more. It’s the POWER he loves. Knowing he’s the one who can bring you so much pleasure that you start to cry is nearly enough to make him cum on the spot

Oh, and then there’s the name calling and the mocking. He WILL call you names, he will mock you for being a “needy little slut” for him, and he just loves it

Now imagine him sitting at lunch bragging about all of this to his friends. He doesn’t spare any details either. He tell them everything, how you cry and beg him to fuck you, how he licks the tears off your face, the marks he leaves on your ass, everything

And do his friends believe him….of course not. Because why would CARTMAN of all people actually be good at sex? Not to mention Kyle would be the one to speak up and say “You’re not supposed to hit girls or make them cry in bed”, and Kenny would chime in with, “Maybe she cries because of how bad you are”. While the table erupts with laughter, Eric goes “You guys are probably just jealous because I’ve got a hot girlfriend who lets me fuck her however I want and you assholes can’t even get a girls number”. Stan rolled his eyes, “Just keep telling yourself that dude”

Despite his desperate attempts to convince them, they simply don’t believe him and that angers him beyond belief. So just be ready to have some dark hickies all over your neck. This way, everyone will know who you belong to and who makes you feel good

Who knows. Maybe he’ll “accidentally” leave his phone lying around on record well you guys fuck. This way, he’ll have irrefutable proof that you enjoy how cruel he is to you, and that he and he alone makes you cry and cum on his cock over and over again

#eric cartman #eric cartman headcanons #eric cartman x reader #eric cartman x reader smut #cartman x reader smut #south park #south park x reader #hannah is feeling silly again

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mossymandibles · 1 year

Note

So I absolutely love your world building and neat as hell monster characters (Kraws design is just peak character design oh my lord)

And after scouring your entire blog to learn as much as I could, there's still so much I wanna know! How did Kraw come to adopt Gen? What happened to her eye? (I'm not sure if you've already explained what happened? Maybe I missed that detail)

Oh man, thanks! Glad to hear you like the dragon dad. And I’m sorry, I feel like my blog is very vague and unorganized as far as world building stuff goes, compared to others. Plus there’s a lot of outdated old art/storyline stuff that I’ve changed is still on here 😅 But happy to hear you enjoy it!

I have answered a similar ask about Kraw and Gen here. But lucky for you! I love to over explain things and I feel like I want to give a little more insight to Gen’s situation this time because I don’t think it’s spoiling anything too much. I honestly don’t know when I’ll get around to making little comics like I’ve wanted to in order show how she came about.

Gen has only told Kraw that she is from a city called the Fever. She remembers her friends from the city and that the Ladder was coming for them. She remembers falling into the ocean and seeing the giant eye. She couldn’t remember how she got aboard his ship, or how long she had been adrift at sea before then.

She wakes up in Sylvaine’s infirmary, where Kraw takes her after he finds her on his ship. Kraw distinctively remembers getting chills when he sees Genevieve again after Sylvaine nurses her back to health. He felt he was looking a completely different child in the eyes. She gets upset and doesn’t like to be pressed further or asked more questions on the matter, so Kraw slowly gives up, only knowing that she comes from the Ladder’s main facility. Most people of Marrowtide Isles like to avoid anything having to do with the Ladder if they can. He only hopes that it doesn’t mean that they’ll come looking for her.

She inherited her mug by unwittingly stealing/absorbing the most important energy source to the Ladder. She got away with some slight hemorrhaging, an occasional voice in her head and a strange growth on her face that Sylvaine classifies as ‘fungal’; an understatement to give Kraw peace of mind perhaps. Besides appearing to have a way with beasts, it gave her some other far more ghastly abilities, a few that only Kraw has been privy to seeing and seems keen on keeping a secret or even downright ignoring for the time being.

After some failed attempts to get rid of her (a dreadful incident with an orphanage and pissing Sylvaine off once or twice) she seemed to keep finding her way back to Kraw. Despite his initial reluctance and a possible fear of her, he found her endearing in some ways.

He notices that she seems to have a keen eye for math and helps him with heftier reading since he’s mostly illiterate. She also has way better people/negotiating skills when helping run the shop he has on the side when fishing season is slow. She didn’t seem to have anyone else and had latched onto him quite tightly, so he grew used to the idea of taking care of her. It surprises most people but Kraw is actually pretty good with kids. He’s just never raised his own until now. The absolute child-like disregard she seems to have for the detriment she could cause just makes her all the more interesting to him in a sense. Maybe he feels a child like that needs someone to look after them so they don’t end up causing world-ending chaos? If he can make her happy before whatever unknown future comes for her then he’ll feel he has a purpose for once that isn’t for profit or hurting others. However, raising a whole ass kid who has already been through life’s ringer isn’t as easy as he thought it’d be of course. Lol. Lmao.

#asks #Genevieve #kraw #monster dad #hallowed carrion #hallowed carrion lore #yaaay a little genevieve backstory #i want to make the comic of how they met sooo bad #but there’s sooo much and it has to be p e r f e c t #someday

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tafeekafee · 23 days

Text

⌛🐶🌹❤️Oh, love is something good for us to share

Sickie: Yunho (+ Dojoon & Jaehyeong)

Caretakers: Woosung & Hajoon (+ Hongjoong & Seonghwa)

Coachella was too hot. California was too hot. Yunho was too hot.

He had thought that filming the “Pirate King” and “Treasure” M/Vs in the Moroccan desert had been bad. But back then they had been able to take breaks in the shade, been able to drink between takes.

On the Coachella stage under the sweltering Californian sun in front of thousands of people no real breaks had been possible. Wherever they had stood there had been sun. It had been exhausting. Within the first fifteen minutes he had gotten a bad headache, constantly blinded by the light, and he started feeling dizzy and unwell. The muscle cramps had started shortly after.

Yunho had tried to drink between songs but he had gotten too nauseous too soon.

It wasn’t like it was his fault that he couldn’t deal with heat well.

He had been glad when their part was over (though he had loved seeing so many people be there for them) and they could get cooled down. So at the first opportunity once they were off-stage, Yunho had walked away from the group in search of a cooler place than their waiting area. The others had been too preoccupied with celebrating their successful stage and trying to deal with the heat as well. Poor Yeosang had looked downright sunburned, now matter how much sunscreen the stylists had put on him.

Yunho managed to stumble upon a bathroom, located at the far side of the artists’ area. To his surprise it was empty.

Even better: Everything was deliciously cooled by an A/C and seemed clean enough. Not caring if he was delirious or thinking about any germs, Yunho just laid down on the cold tiles, feeling them absorb his body heat instantly.

Wow, that felt good. His clothes were soaked in sweat but the freeze on his back was amazing.

He closed his eyes, his heavy eyes with the hazy vision, and tried to catch his breath. He would get up soon to find his group. He would be fine for a moment here, he just didn’t want to brave the heat again.

Yunho nearly dropped off to sleep when he was irritated by loud voices from outside the door.

“Leo, I told you that eating fast food was a bad idea”, somebody said in Korean. Yunho didn’t even have time to be confused about that - after all they were in an English-speaking country - then the door was pushed open and a few people came in.

Yunho seriously couldn’t care less. As long as they let him lie there, he was happy.

But then there was a surprised shout, a curse and somebody gently shook him.

“I’m good, it’s just hot”, Yunho slurred and blinked open his eyes.

As his vision cleared, he was taken aback.

“Woosung-sunbaenim?”he asked, confused, brain not quite catching up to his eyes. Of course he knew that The Rose sunbaenims were at Coachella too and they had hoped they would run into them. He just hadn’t expected that so soon. Mingi would be so jealous of him.

At the moment the only feeling he himself could muster was some form of shame - here he was laying on a hopefully not too dirty bathroom floor, exhausted to the core. It didn't make for a good first impression.

“Isn’t that ATEEZ’s Yunho?”, a different voice asked.

“Leo, get to that sink before you actually puke everywhere”, Woosung commanded, not looking away from Yunho. It was kinda weird holding eye contact with his sunbaenim, Yunho mused. But he could only blink. It was as if his body was mush. “Jeff, go with him. Dylan, come here, help me with him.”

What was up with his sunbaenims? Were they okay?

It was kind of a coincidence they had all ended up in the same bathroom in this huge area. Maybe they had looked for a more private area too? Yunho didn't actually care enough to ask. He just wanted his peace. Probably would not get that but so be it. At least he could brag to Mingi.

A second person knelt down by Yunho’s side. Ah, Hajoon-sunbaenim, their drummer. The older man looked really worried for some reason.

“Why are you here alone, Yunho-ssi? What happened? Where is your group?”, Woosung asked gently.

“Uh, I was too hot. It’s cool here, dunno where they are, sunbaenim”, Yunho mumbled. Maybe it should phase him that he didn’t know where his members were but he was so tired.

“No, stay awake”, Hajoon said, placing a hand against Yunho’s neck, “hyung, his pulse is really fast.”

"Yunho-ssi, what else do you feel?", Woosung-sunbaenim asked urgently.

"Head hurts, kinda nauseous, my muscles were cramping. I just wanted to be cool again, it's so hot." Yunho groaned. Couldn't they let him sleep?

“Heat exhaustion”, Woosung said grimly, addressing Hajoon probably, “if not heatstroke. They just performed under the sun, no wonder he isn’t feeling good. Do we have water and where the fuck is that electric fan?”

“We only have this left”, Hajoon answered and handed Woosung a half-full water bottle before jumping to his feet, “I’ll see if I can get more and find his group. Do we need a medic?”

“Yunho-ssi, do you have your phone?”, Woosung asked. Yunho just shrugged and let Woosung pat his pockets. The older man came up empty.

“Go get water and maybe ice first, Hajoon-ah. If you find a manager or whoever have them call ATEEZ. No, hey, Yunho-ssi, stay awake, please. You said you feel nauseous? Do you think you might need to be sick?”

“Maybe”, Yunho admitted shyly. He was really making a great first impression. Not.

“It’s okay, stuff happens. Don’t be embarrassed. Are you dizzy?”

“A bit.” Ah, to hell with impressions. He just wanted to close his eyes again.

“Can you sit up for me?”

Yunho shook his head a bit. Sitting up sounded like it would make his nausea and exhaustion worse. Why did his sunbaenim have to insist on this? He was happy enough alone on the floor.

“Jeff, help me sit him up, please. He needs to drink. Oh, you have the fan, gimme please.”

Suddenly everything swirled as he was propped upright and Yunho gagged dryly. Nothing came up, probably everything that was in his body had vaporized already. Did that make sense? Yunho wasn’t sure.

Somebody tapped his cheek and Yunho tried to swat at the annoying hands. At least the breeze on his face from the fan felt good and the cool of the wall on his back was welcome. “No, open your eyes, Yunho-ssi. Or I will call an ambulance.”

That had Yunho awake. He did not want to go to the hospital. And he really did not want to see Hongjoong-hyung’s sad, pouting, disappointed face if he ended up there. Or any of the others’, really. Besides, they were at Coachella - he wanted to enjoy it.

“Drink”, Woosung said with a bit of force in his voice, “slow sips, we don’t want you to get sick. But you need to hydrate a bit. I am a bit scared of delivering you into Hongjoong-ssi’s care like this. He might kill me.”

“Joong-hyung is a marshmallow. Or a minion or something”, Yunho complained but drank a few sips of the offered water. Woosung gave him a bright smile and stroked Yunho’s sweat-soaked hair back from his forehead.

“Can you hold the fan yourself? Here you go. I’m sure he is, just not when I return you looking like this. Hell, I nearly fought RM and Suga once when they brought a sick Jaehyeong to me and I didn’t know what happened.”

“Sounds like a story”, Yunho mumbled as he took the fan from Woosung’s hand and took another sip. The bottle was empty then and he pouted. Drinking had helped a bit to clear his surroundings and he finally was able to focus on something else than Woosung’s face which previously had been the only thing he had been able to see clearly.

“It was - should have seen his tiny ass trying to threaten a guy nearly a head taller than him”, somebody said and Yunho turned to look at who had spoken.

The man had his back to them, leaning over the sink, so Yunho couldn’t be quite sure. But considering their earlier conversation and that the other man by his side had blond hair (so Jaehyeong, their bassist and maknae who still was like five years older than Yunho), he assumed it was Dojoon, their keyboardist, vocalist and whichever other instruments that dude could play. Mingi was so enamored.

“Is he alright?”, Yunho asked worriedly. It was a bit curious to see his sunbaenims like that.

“Huh? Who? Leo? Yeah, that dumbass just thought that eating fast food before jumping around in the heat during sound check was a great idea, especially when I told him not to. Sometimes I am right, aren’t I, Leo?”, Woosung grumbled but he did look a bit concerned when he mustered his ill member.

“Fuck off, Sammy”, Dojoon replied, sounding very nauseated and ending his sentence with a harsh swallow. Uh-oh. “California, our worries make no sense”, he added in English. Why he suddenly switched languages Yunho wasn’t sure but he congratulated himself in understanding it. Maybe it was one of their songs? He'd have to ask Mingi. He was too tired to remember.

“That was not what I was going for with the lyrics. Like not even close”, Woosung complained, “and I told you multiple times that a large order of fries with a burger was a bad idea. I am from California, I know what I am talking about.” That at least answered the lyric question.

“Can we stop talking about food now?”, the third member, Jaehyeong, cut in, “besides: California, where people make freedom.”

He, too, didn’t look so good, Yunho thought. Well, that was a lie. His sunbaenims did always look good. He himself was probably looking pathetic though.

“You too?”, Woosung asked, exasperated, “Freedom to make dumb choices, I guess. I can’t go with you lot anywhere.”

“Stop picking on me, when I am not even there”, Hajoon complained from the doorway, holding a few bottles of water and an ice pack in his arms. That looked like a lifeline, pun intended.

“I wasn’t”, Woosung complained, but added a suspicious: “You didn’t overeat before practice, did you?”

“I’m not stupid”, Hajoon commented, earning himself a "fuck off" from Jaehyeong, at the same time that Dojoon apparently lost the fight against his stomach and raced to a bathroom stall. Disgusting sounds echoed through the bathroom and Yunho cringed. Hearing that did his own stomach no favor.

Woosung sighed and gestured at Yunho. “Joon-ah, you got him for a moment? I’ll check on … Joon-ah. Fuck your names.”

Hajoon rolled his eyes but he gave Yunho a kind smile as he knelt down by his side and pressed the ice to his neck. Oh, God, that felt good. Yunho moaned at the refreshing feeling, not even caring anymore how he was kind of embarrassing himself.

“Hi, Yunho-ssi”, Hajoon said, “can you try to drink a bit more? Oh, Jeff, you too.” He pushed one of the bottles to Jaehyeong, causing it to collide with the other man’s legs. Jaehyeong just groaned.

“Idiots, all of them”, Hajoon commented and grinned when he got Yunho to giggle a bit. “I wasn’t able to locate your members but do you know any of their phone numbers?”

Quickly Yunho gave him Mingi’s phone number - the only number of his members he knew by heart. Hajoon typed it into the keypad. Before he dialed he looked up and called: “Sammy, you know, you could have just asked him if he knew any of the phone numbers.”

“Sorry”, Yunho mumbled, feeling himself flush. He should have thought of that. If only his head didn’t hurt so badly.

“Wha…? Oh”, Woosung’s voice came, then a middle finger appeared under the stall.

“Hey, I didn’t do anything. Neither did you, Yunho-ssi, he’s just a grumbling old man”, Hajoon said with a laugh. He seemed happy to tease his hyung. Somehow he reminded Yunho of Jongho.

“Wait until you turn thirty, I will make so many jokes”, Woosung called, then went back to comforting an obviously still very nauseous Dojoon.

“You’re still over a year older than me, hyung”, Hajoon teased and winked at Yunho. Oh, teasing to make Yunho more comfortable with his sunbaenims. That was actually kind of nice.

“I’m going to call Mingi-ssi now”, Hajoon said and put the phone on speaker.

“Hello?”, Mingi’s deep voice filtered through the air. Yunho smiled a bit, he did want to be reunited with his members. Just somewhere cool.

“Hi, Mingi-yah”, Yunho whispered before Hajoon could say anything.

Mingi gasped and he sounded panicked when he answered: “Yunho? Yunho-yah? Where are you? We were so worried? Hyung, no, wait….”

“Yunho-yah?”, Seonghwa’s worried voice came instead. His overprotective eldest hyung must have snatched the phone from Mingi.

“Urgh, give that to me”, Hongjoong said, sounding further away and then louder: “Yunho, baby, where are you? Whose phone are you calling from?”

Yunho hid his face in his hand. His members were embarrassing - Seonghwa and Hongjoong actually acted like parents sometimes.

“Uh, mine,” Hajoon said, obviously suppressing a laugh, and introduced himself: “Hajoon from The Rose.”

Instantly the other side of the phone turned quiet. “Sunbaenim? What’s going on? Thank you for calling”, Hongjoong asked, trying to sound polite and not overly scared. He failed spectacularly at the last part.

“Yunho’s just not feeling so good”, Hajoon started to explain. It was very obvious at that moment that Hajoon was one of the younger members of The Rose - he had never learned how to deliver bad news and not make anybody’s leader panic.

Before he could get any further, however, he was interrupted. It would have been rude in any other situation but it was actually kind of sweet how worried Hongjoong got.

“What’s wrong? Where are you?” There were probably a thousand bad scenarios running through the leader’s head at that phrasing.

Hajoon quickly gave a description of their whereabouts to Hongjoong who promised to be there as soon as possible and was about to hang up when Yunho mumbled: “Hyung, I really don’t need all of you to come. Take Seonghwa-hyung. Don’t bring Mingi.”

“Alright”, Hongjoong said softly, “hold on, baby, we’ll be there soon.” The call ended.

Hajoon had his eyebrow raised when Yunho looked at him. “Why don’t you want Mingi? Aren’t you like best friends?”, he asked curiously.

How did Hajoon know? It would be something an ATINY would know but that didn’t really make sense, did it? Urgh, thinking hurt.

“We are”, Yunho confirmed instead, “but he is totally a Black Rose. I doubt that he wants, uh, this to be his first real interaction.” He awkwardly gestured at Jaehyeong, who had sat down by the sinks and was slowly sipping on the bottle of water Hajoon had given him.

“Fair enough”, Hajoon agreed, grimacing. "Actually, thanks, I guess."

They looked up when the stall door opened and Dojoon and Woosung stumbled out. Dojoon was still very pale and Woosung had a stabilizing hand on the small of his back. But Dojoon was looking much better than earlier.

“How are you?”, Jaehyeong asked dejectedly when Woosung deposited Dojoon next to him. The older man just groaned but accepted the bottle of water their leader pressed into his hand.

"Thanks for asking, Jeff. Oh, me? Yes, I am feeling better too, thanks", Jaehyeong said rhetorically, a bit annoyed. He acted a bit like San when he was pouty. Weird.

"Be nice, kid", Dojoon replied, causing them to argue quietly.

Woosung ignored them and came to crouch down by Yunho’s side again. “Are you feeling better then? Or should I prepare to run from your leader?”, he asked teasingly.

“Uh, what?”, Hongjoong asked from the door. None of them had noticed him and Seonghwa entering. With all eyes on him after the rather not eloquent question he turned beet-red. “Sunbaenims”, he muttered and pulled at Seonghwa to make them bow.

“Don’t bow, Hongjoong-ssi, Seonghwa-ssi”, Woosung said with a smile.

It was Seonghwa’s turn to flush. “You know us, sunbaenim?”

“Of course”, Hajoon agreed, “Woosung-hyung is totally an ATINY. I think he has merch, actually. We all love your music. Also we tried to do the Bouncy challenge and I nearly ruined my ba… too soon?” He glanced at Woosung who just rolled his eyes.

“Yes, three weeks is too soon, brat”, Woosung replied, “also, may I remind you that you cried more than me that day?”

Hajoon seemed to choose to ignore the second part though he ducked his head a bit. The cough that he muffled with his hand sounded suspiciously like “grandfather” but Woosung just gave him a simultaneous warning and exasperated glance before focusing his attention on ATEEZ's eldest.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa both seemed as taken aback as Yunho by Hajoon’s confession of being ATINY. It was not everyday that a sunbaenim who you adored adored you right back. Wow. While Hongjoong had turned a bit red again (maybe he just had sunburn though?) Seonghwa couldn’t quite hide his shock, evident by his wide eyes and open mouth.

"I'm glad you are here, Hongjoong-ssi, Seonghwa-ssi", Woosung said, pulling them out of their awe, "I think it's only a case of a bit of heat exhaustion but you should get Yunho-ssi checked out by a medic, just in case."

"Thank you, sunbaenim", Hongjoong replied, distractedly, and rushed over to Yunho now that the greetings were over. Well, to be fair, the only thing that probably had stopped him before had not actually been social conventions but rather confusion.

Hajoon scooted to the side to make space for him and ended up beside Yunho, also leaning against the wall. With his head pounding and eyes dropping, Yunho leaned sideways and rested his head on his shoulder. Maybe it was a bit inappropriate - after all they had known each other for less than an hour but he was tired. Hongjoong only looked worried and surprised but nobody said anything about it.

"Baby, we were so worried when we realized we didn't know where you were", Hongjoong mumbled, placing a cool hand tenderly against Yunho's cheek, "you can't just run off, especially if you don't feel well."

Yunho flushed a bit under the attention. All eyes were focused on him and it made his skin crawl. He had not wanted attention. That had been the first reason why he had run away. Apparently you couldn’t feel unwell anywhere in peace. Deep down though, he was glad.

"Didn't want to make you worry", he mumbled, staring down at his lap. Now that the excitement had died down again he felt like he was hit by a truck. And not an ice-cream one. "I was just a bit too hot."

"You never handled the heat well", Seonghwa sighed, taking Yunho's hand in his own, feeling the pulse in his wrist. “Remember filming Pirate King and Treasure?”

Hongjoong groaned. “Yeah, that was fun. Sorry, Yunho, we should have paid more attention. I hope he didn’t bother you, sunbaenims?”

If Yunho hadn’t been so comfy he would have been offended. Being a “bother” was Wooyoung's job. But he was content to just watch with half-lidded eyes.

“Not at all. He’s a delight”, Woosung replied, “and please, stop calling us ‘sunbaenim’. ‘Hyung’ or our names are fine, ‘sunbaenim’ makes us feel old. Hajoon, I am warning you.”

The drummer had opened his mouth to probably make another joke but decided he wanted to live another day. Yunho giggled a bit. Their dynamics were funny, he had to admit.

“Alright, thank you. Hyung”, Seonghwa said, “we don’t want to keep you here, surely you have other things to do?”

It was at that moment that he looked around and seemed to take in Dojoon’s and Jaehyeong’s complexions for the first time. He faltered for a moment then his face turned worried.

“Are you alright?”, he asked. God, he really was a mother sometimes. Even to people like four or five years his senior.

“Yeah, they will be fine. They are just regretting their decision to eat before jumping around in the heat. Turns out, what a surprise, it wasn’t a good idea”, Woosung explained before the two could defend themselves.

“You’ll hold that over our heads for the rest of our lives, won’t you?”, Jaehyeong whined, throwing his empty water bottle in Woosung’s general direction. He missed spectacularly.

“We had that particular problem before”, Hongjoong said pointedly, staring at Seonghwa.

“Oh, that’s what yesterday was about?”, Yunho asked. Seonghwa flushed and stuttered: “I … uhm, I’m sure the food was just out in the sun too long.”

“Yeah, sure”, Hongjoong deadpanned, “but you are right, we should get going. We already sent the kids back to the hotel. They fought hard to stay and are really worried about you, but we all deserve a night off. The only thing they can do at the moment is rest. But I fear Mingi may have paced a hole in the hotel’s carpet by now. Anyways, Yunho-yah, do you think you can stand? We’ll take you to the medics to get checked out and then how does a nap sound?”

“Heavenly”, Yunho mumbled, “hyung, I am so tired. My head hurts too. But I can stand.”

“Still nauseous?”, Hajoon asked gently. Shockingly, no. Yunho shook his head.

“Okay, that’s good”, Hongjoong agreed, “medical and then you can sleep.”

“Up you go”, Seonghwa said and with his and Hajoon’s help Yunho was standing. Well, leaning on his Seonghwa-hyung but he was on his feet. Hongjoong reached up and smoothed Yunho’s hair out of his face.

“Why do you have to be so tall, Yunho-yah?”, the captain asked fondly.

“You’re just tiny, hyung”, Yunho quipped, causing Seonghwa, Hajoon and Jaehyeong to laugh.

Hongjoong groaned. Woosung patted his back in a sympathetic gesture. “I feel you, Hongjoong-ah.”

They all burst into laughter again. Hongjoong and Woosung both had similar pouting expressions on their faces.

“Okay, let’s actually go”, Hongjoong said, shaking his head, and turned to Woosung and Hajoon, who had come to stand beside his leader, “thank you so much for your help, hyungs.” He bowed a bit.

“We’re happy we could help. Feel better soon, kiddo”, Woosung replied and turned to Yunho. To the dancer’s shock he actually hugged him. Oh, wow. Hajoon followed suit.

“Thank you”, Yunho mumbled and looked at Dojoon and Jaehyeong who were cuddled up together still, “I hope you two feel better soon as well.”

“Thank you”, they echoed. Jaehyeong waved and Dojoon added: “I’d hug you too but I think I’d puke again if I have to stand up.”

“Great, let’s get you idiots back to the hotel too”, Woosung mumbled and knelt down beside his two unwell members.

Yunho, Seonghwa and Hongjoong waved at them until they left the bathroom.

⌛🌹

A health check by a medic and an order to rest and drink plenty later, Seonghwa and Hongjoong led Yunho back to the hotel. He nearly fell asleep on Seonghwa’s shoulder in the elevator but was shaken awake by Hongjoong. He whined.

“You can sleep soon, you big baby”, Hongjoong said fondly, “just, you scared us today. Really scared us and I hate to think what would have happened if The Rose-hyungs hadn’t found you. We’ll talk about that another time but for now be prepared to have five anxious dongsaengs fuss over you.”

The captain unlocked the door and as soon as they entered the hotel room, Mingi practically assaulted Yunho with a tight, comforting hug.

“What happened? Yunho, why were you with The Rose-sunbaenims?”, Mingi asked, never letting go. Yunho was content to be just held.

“Well, the The Rose-hyungs found me, actually”, Yunho said and couldn’t help but brag: “Woosung-hyung called me a ‘delight’.”

Mingi’s shocked and envious face definitely was worth getting heat exhaustion.

But he would never dare admit that particular sentiment to his Hongjoong-hyung.

Yunho liked living.

Notes: Guys, I’m not from America and have never been to Coachella. I tried to research a bit but I couldn’t really find much about security and backstage areas for the artists. I doubt they will just walk around with the other people though, so a more comfortable and sanitary backstage area is what I imagine. Correct me if I am wrong and get me a ticket then:)

I hope you enjoyed reading this as much or more than I did writing this crossover!

#kpop #kpop sickfic #the rose #ateez #ateez sickfic #sickfic #sick ateez #kpop sick #sick the rose #emeto #ateez & the rose crossover #heat exhaustion #coachella #⌛🌹#⌛#🌹#🧚🏻‍♀️#❤️#🐶

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house-afire · 1 month

Text

Old Chums (Stede/Nigel)

Prompt: 100 words of "we're not gay, we're sailors"

Nigel had seldom been so pleased to see someone. The long journey to the Caribbean had looked to be intolerably boring—this downright crawl across the ocean was not how he’d hoped to celebrate leaving school. But Father had insisted on seeing what England had made of him before he wrapped himself in its colors for good, so here he was, in the middle of blasted nowhere. Milling about at sea in his private life before he’d be strongarmed into doing it all his life. And there was very little chance of fun on this stodgy ship—

Or so he’d thought, until he’d seen Stede.

“Little Baby Bonnet, all grown up!” Nigel said, clasping him by the shoulders. “I honestly never thought about you existing outside of our dear old school.”

“Was it dear?” Stede said, squirming under his hands, soft and shaky as a pudding, bless him. “Can’t say I’ve given it any thought either, since I left. I finished up—”

“Oh, were you in England too? I’m surprised we didn’t run into each other before now.” Nigel patted himself on the chest. “I was at Eton.”

“Harrow,” Stede said, with another of those appealing wriggles. This time it slipped him out from under Nigel’s hand—clever little fish.

Nigel decided to be magnanimous. “Well, that’s nearly as good. You’re headed home, then?”

Stede nodded. He looked a bit miserable about it, poor fellow. But then Stede just tended to look like that, didn’t he? Like a little stomped-on rose, all crumpled and red-faced and dew-damped, their dear Baby Bonnet. Nigel had decided early on that he couldn’t possibly be as unhappy as he looked, because only an absolute spoilsport would properly sulk through all their romps and fun.

Actually, aside from the rather pathetic cast of his features, Stede looked … good. He had quite unexpectedly acquired some definition about his jaw and shoulders, and his mouth had shed some of its poutiness. The wind ruffled that Goldilocks hair of his.

Nigel was vaguely aware that one didn’t technically consider such things, not when it came to a friendly handy—it was obviously very far afield from, say, choosing a wife. You just wanted a chum. Had nothing to do with proper intercourse. More like how you couldn’t tickle yourself. It was just useful to have somebody else involved.

He was probably only thinking of Stede that way because Baby Bonnet had always been a bit of a girl. They’d forced him into one of the matron’s dresses once and told him he looked almost pretty. So there you were, Nigel thought, relieved. They had all said that much.

“Let’s go see the stores,” Nigel said, putting an arm around Stede’s shoulders and steering him belowdecks.

Stede stumbled as he followed along. “And, ah, why should we want to do that?”

“Like the games shed, you know. Lots of clutter to duck behind.”

“Duck behind for what?”

Oh, playing hard to get, was he? If he thought Nigel was going to turn foolish over him, like one of those soppy, soft-handed boys who used to turn half their tuck over to the cricket captain and moon all about him, he would be sorely disappointed.

Then again, it was a long voyage. If he absolutely had to give Stede a fruit tart and a silly compliment about his lovely hair to make him behave like a proper pal, he could probably be talked into it. It would be entirely understandable if Nigel chose to indulge him like that, just to make it all go over without any fuss.

Only a real problem if you did it on land, when there were plenty of women to be had. Then you were just a deviant. At sea, one simply made compromises because one was healthy and red-blooded.

“Ah, here we are,” Nigel announced. He swung the door open and had a look around for any sailors already making use of the place. None at all. What a lucky day it was turning out to be.

Stede let Nigel drag him in and close the door behind them, but he still had an endearingly baffled look on his face. Maybe he truly didn’t know. God, he really was a babe in the woods, wasn’t he? Nigel decided to clarify things by pushing Stede back against the door and doing his best to get Stede’s breeches off him.

“Mmf!” Stede protested against Nigel’s mouth, which had wound up overlapping a bit with his.

“Oh, come on, Stede,” Nigel said, pulling back because one didn’t kiss during this sort of thing. They were both gentlemen. “There’s nothing else to do on this unbelievably dull boat. And anything goes when one’s at sea, you know that.”

“I do?” Stede’s voice trembled like a maiden’s, but—in a move that made something inside Nigel flash bright, like the sun had hit upon it—he tugged his own breeches and drawers down and thrust forward into Nigel’s hand.

His cock was rosy and far more sizable than Nigel would ever have guessed. He wondered what it would be like—

No, he didn’t. He put that aside firmly. He was going to be an officer in His Majesty’s Navy, yes, but he was not going to be a sailor in that sense. He would get accustomed to whatever was convenient, but he was still going to have some decorum.

“Obviously,” Nigel said, stroking Stede’s prick and feeling it twitch in his hand. “We wouldn’t be doing this on land. Not unless you wanted to dress up like a girl again and pass yourself off as my wife.” He mashed their bodies close together, his burning cheek against Stede’s temple.

“I didn’t even—” Stede’s breath hitched. “I didn’t even want to dress up as a girl the first time!”

“Oh, it was all good fun. I did it for that panto, remember?”

It was foolish of Stede to pretend that the stage, or lack thereof, made that much of a difference. So what if he’d been shoved into that frock in the dark, by more than one set of hands? They’d all been high-spirited, and Stede had squeaked so marvelously back then that he’d made for wonderful entertainment. And Nigel remembered perfectly how Stede had blushed when they’d all told him he was pretty, and how well he’d curtseyed when they’d finally talked him into it.

He had thought of it a lot over the last few years, really.

“Be a good chap,” Nigel said into Stede’s ear, “and shoot off in a hurry. I’m more than ready for my turn.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t surprise people if you want them to be ready,” Stede said, with a very Stede-ish blend of querulousness and heat, as if Nigel could possibly be cowed by him. He honestly was very fond of Stede. Always had been. He suspected Stede was fond of him as well—Stede had always watched him, back at school, as if Nigel’s every move had needed to be charted.

Then again, he had watched all their circle of school chums that way. Little harlot.

But all those fellows were far away, and even if they’d been aboard, Nigel wouldn’t have minded sharing Stede with them. An Eton man was generous. Anyway, he was sure they’d understand that Stede would always prefer him.

“I think this trip is going to turn out to be quite bearable in the end,” Nigel said, pleased.

Stede threw his head back until his skull cracked against the door, sinking his teeth into his lower lip as his hips juddered in helpless little spasms.

Not on land, Nigel reminded himself, even as he further reminded himself that obviously he needed no reminding. Pretty as Baby Bonnet is, there will be prettier women, of course.

But would any of them be wrung out like this, shaking, their spend slicking Nigel’s hand? Would any of them ever be so gloriously flushed, so sweet and so petulant? Would they tug at his cock with this look of utmost concentration, like they were trying to understand some sophisticated machinery? Yes, of course they would. Of course they would have to be all those things and better, and whatever they were not, he wouldn’t want. This was a matter of opportunity. He was clear on that.

And if he closed his eyes and imagined Stede in a turquoise silk gown, approved as Mrs. Badminton by popular delusion, well—it was only because he had no proper girl in mind. And might not for some time.

Very abruptly, he felt a sudden, awful gratitude at being pushed into the Navy. What a lot of long voyages there would be, so unavoidably.

“It’s so good,” Nigel said afterwards, panting into Stede’s almond-scented hair, “to have friends. Old friends. Isn’t it?”

“I suppose it must be,” Stede said.

#nigel badminton #stede bonnet #stede/nigel #tw: dubcon #tw: bullying #(past)#tw: internalized homophobia

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sailtomarina · 2 months

Text

Putreuse Potion Confessions

“George, you can’t keep doing this!” Hermione’s shrill cry rang through the flat. It was surprising her voice carried at all given the clutter of books and WWW prototypes filling every room.

Granted, most of the books were hers. She told herself it couldn’t be helped, what with the way the twin took up every other available space with his “treasures” and “projects”. You might even think he lived above the Weasley shop by himself, but no. He had a roommate, and her name was Hermione Granger.

She wondered whether or not the flat had looked similar before her desperation led her here. Hermione had been so distracted by her own drama at the time that she hadn’t really paid attention to her surroundings.

“George!” she yelled once more. She knew he wasn’t downstairs. He always took his lunch break at this time.

The cauldron currently sitting in the bathroom–their only bathroom–bubbled terrifying shades of puce and chartreuse.

Whatever had possessed the French to actually like these colours once upon a time?

She shook away the errant thought. That wasn’t the point. What was the point was that the bubbling looked volatile. She’d stake her Advanced Potions N.E.W.T. that whatever he was brewing should not be reacting like this. If he didn’t show up soon, she would be forced to act.

Sod it.

She’d try a Stasis charm and hope for the best.

“Wait, wait, wait!” George’s shout came just as her wand started its movement, and she froze in place like she was the one stuck in time before slowly turning her head to glare at him.

“What. Is. This?”

He gulped. He stood only a few feet away, hand outstretched. Their face-off lasted all of five seconds before she let her wand drop to her side. George sighed in relief.

“It’s an experiment.” He startled at the growl that escaped her throat, and hastily continued to explain. “We ran out of room in the lab, and I was going to check on it during my break.”

“Well, it doesn’t look good,” she said, stepping back and waving him forward. She breathed in as he brushed past her, taking in the scents that were uniquely George. Smoke from frequent explosions. Honey from his tea. Sandalwood from his soap she sometimes borrowed when she ran out of her own, and sometimes when she just felt like it. “What’s it supposed to be anyway?”

He tutted the moment he laid his eyes on the concoction, then cast his own Stasis charm. It worked. “A twist on Veritaserum that would be safe for commercial use.”

Hermione looked at the sickly blend of colours. “Veritaserum is supposed to be clear. Tasteless. Odourless.” She slid her gaze over to the wizard. “Undetectable.”

“Like I said: safe for commercial use.” Then, to her horror, he dipped a finger into the mixture and licked it.

“George!”

“Hermione!” He mocked, hitting what he must have estimated to be her pitch and smirking at her reaction.

“You can’t just test things like that! It’s dangerous, not to mention downright stupid.”

“That’s what you’re here for, love. I couldn’t be in safer company. Or prettier.” His smug grin that spread from ear to…well, the side without an ear, dropped as he heard his own response. “Shite. I didn’t mean to say that. Though I do think it. You really are the prettiest witch I know. Also, the smartest. Good Godric, what am I saying? Make it stop!” He clapped both hands over his mouth and backed further into the bathroom as if the increased distance would somehow protect him.

“You think I’m pretty?”

While she knew in theory that she was passably decent, she never would have applied the word to herself. Her hair, her signature feature, placed Hermione far outside of the typical image of beauty. Even now, several years into adulthood, she maintained that the curls had a life of their own. George had never once commented on her looks in the past, other than to shake his head the night she’d come knocking on his door, calling her ex “a fool.” She’d moved in that same evening.

She watched in fascination as the muscles along his arms bulged in the effort to contain his answer. He wiggled, fighting the compulsion, before both hands yanked downward to reveal the strained tendons of his neck.

“I think you’re gorgeous and I want you more than anyone I’ve ever wanted in my entire life. Merlin’s saggy balls!”

He spun around and dove through the shower curtain like a show dog passing through a hoop. Only, he was an adult man, and the tub was empty. He hit the porcelain basin with what sounded like every hard edge of his body. “Fuck!” He huddled there, tightly hugging himself.

He seemed okay otherwise. Hermione stared at the freckled skin along his bare arms for another beat, then two, and then she, too, scooped up a dollop of the potion. Before she could second guess herself, she sucked and swallowed.

It was…sweet. Like, candy-sweet. That must have been the intention, only she would need to step in and redirect him towards a more palatable array. She stepped deeper into the bathroom until her knees bumped the edge of the tub.

“George, ask me a question.”

He stilled. Peeking over his shoulder, his eyes widened when she held up one digit, still slick from her own spit. He had no way of knowing she’d trained herself to resist Veritaserum. “Did you…”

“I did. And that one doesn’t count. Ask me another.”

He slowly turned until he fully faced her. He straightened his shoulders and gazed upward, the clear blue of his eyes holding her own. “Hermione, will you go out with me?”

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” She stepped into the tub, sinking down so she basically sat in his lap. Her arms settled around his neck, catching a fistful of hair and tilting his face up. “Yes. Now kiss me.”

1000 WC exactly (tears hair out)

Written for the WWW HumpDay Drabbles, my Chaos prompts were: Weasley: George Potion: Veritaserum Trope: Roommates

Cross-posted on FB, Tumblr, and AO3

I originally included a note about Fred being alive and having moved in with Angelina, but cut it due to word limit.

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter flashfic #Hermione Granger x George Weasley #Hermione x George #Hermione Granger #George Weasley #Geomione #Facebook: Weasley Witches & Writers

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chrollohearttags · 5 months

Text

THEY DON’T KNOW | e. jaeger

synopsis: your life and relationship in the spotlight seemed nothing short of perfect..that was until everyone else convinced you otherwise.

content + themes: slight angst, engagement/proposal, musician eren x influencer reader ofc, fluff, drama, mentions of infidelity, kissing, brief mentions of suggestive things, nothing heavy, just a sweet story for my favorite ship

word count: 3.2K

📝: this is for my sweet @honeybleed ‘s 90-00’s R&B collab event! (I’m a little late to the party, I’m so sorry about that! 😭) Congratulations to you again on 600, my love. You deserve every bit and so much more!

SONG 🎧: They Don’t Know • Jon B.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .** . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .** . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•

noise…it all seemed so much louder than usual nowadays. Everything sounded so much more amplified now matter how hard you fought to drown it out. The music thudding from the speakers on stages that you danced on, the rain droplets splattering against your window pane and lately…the opinions of every envious naysayer and supposed friend alike.

Telling you that your relationship was a moot point. A mere sham and that in due time, it’d come crumbling to its core. Regardless how strong the foundation was between the two of you, outside forces could still cause it to shatter at any moment. But that was only if you allowed it. You couldn’t escape it either…every other scroll and headline on every media outlet was a photo of you two..some flashy shot of you two kissing and holding hands. Appearing happily in love, only to be followed by droves of comments full of negative and downright nasty things about you guys. Saying that it would never work and you were only a temporary thing who ‘just so happened to make it further than the rest..’ it certainly wasn’t a vote of confidence considering you were about to spend the rest of your life together. For the better part of three years, you had come to know and love the renowned artist, EJ the Don. A man who’s music transcended all of time and pushed boundaries..a generational talent with exceptional skill. At least those were the words used to describe him by a plethora of magazines over the years. On the contrary, others would acclaim that he was a bit of a playboy. That he hurt people at will with no regard for their feelings..sabotaging relationships purposefully so that he was no longer bound to them. He didn’t care about anyone other than himself.

However, you knew otherwise. EJ, as far as you were concerned, was an entirely different entity of itself. You had fallen for Eren..the man who’d leave the studio at night tired and exhausted but still managed to have fresh flowers and your favorite treats in hand. The man who’d curl up with you on rainy days and binge movies. The Eren you loved would comfort you relentlessly until you were far batter. Making you laugh and cheer up with the dumbest jokes..that’s the kind of person he was. So it came without question, when one night on the rooftop of a hotel in Greece; surrounded by fluorescent blue lights, a lavish table filled with wine and rose petals next to the serene pool waters where he asked you to be his wife, you’d immediately accept. Saying yes faster than he could get the proposal out. You were elated to not only spend the rest of your life with him but share the exciting news with the world and those you loved. To your surprise though, you weren’t met with the warm reception that you had pictured in your head.

once the announcement came, the rumors followed and there was no escaping them. Even so called friends were hesitant. Telling you that he used to go with this model and date this girl so it was best to watch out. Some even suggested calling the whole thing off to spare you from future heartache...and you’d be lying if you said that they hadn’t worn you down. That you hadn’t wondered if there was a bit of truth to them. But if there was anything he was dedicated to doing, it was setting your mind at ease and proving all of them wrong.

“…room for one more?”

the voice ringing from earshot and sending flutters throughout the pit of your belly. You’d flip over onto your side with a faint beam as your fiancé made his way over to you. “For you? Anytime..” Kneeling into the mattress as he brushes a hand along your bare shoulder blade, leaning forward to place a kiss on your temple. It seemed that the effects of the dreary, rainy day had taken its toll on him as well. Sporting a pair of sweats and a tank top, indicating that he was finished with his work for the day and ready to relax with the one person who brought him serenity. Ironically, there was something rather tranquil about weather like this..whereas most people saw it as something negative; a literal damper in their plans, some took it as an opportunity to purify themselves. Not so much in a literal regard but it was perfect to just lie here and let all of those feelings that normally wouldn’t make their way to the forefront be known. Coiling one of those toned, tattooed arms around (y/n)’s covered torso, Eren began to mumble into your skin..simultaneously leaving gentle pecks along your arm. “This rain kinda sucks, doesn’t it? It’s so depressing..” “..yeah..it is.” The dryness in your response caused an immediate alarm for your fiancé. That was the thing with Eren..even when it seemed as if he were completely nonchalant and not paying you much attention, he focused on the smallest details and kept note.

there were things about you that he had noticed early on in your relationship and still to this day, could remember them better than you could. “I see it’s already working on someone…” making an attempt at a light hearted joke and even smirking afterwards, hoping that his humor would bring at least a faint smile to your face. He hated seeing you like this..hated knowing that something was obviously bothering you and you wouldn’t tell him the cause. In fact, he picked up on it three days ago when he saw you sitting outside near the pool, glaring off into space at what seemed to be nothing. In the same regard, he wasn’t the type to pry..he knew how irksome he felt when someone pestered him so he figured it best to wait for an opportune moment to confront you. Now seemed like as good of a time as any. He never did well with communicating his feelings either so he used jokes and humor as a means to break the proverbial ice. But luckily, he wouldn’t need some awkward segway because you’d ask him something that would make his stomach turn.

“..do you think we did the right thing?”

admittedly and rightfully so, he was a little confused. What ‘right thing’ were you referring to exactly?

“As in what?”

“Getting engaged..moving in together. Are we really meant to be here?” The words seemed to be spilling from between your lips as if they had been sitting there for quite some time. It was a little insulting nonetheless. As if you had waited for this exact moment. But he’d be lying if he said that they hadn’t stung a bit. He figured the two of you were equally yoked and on the same page. Happy to be marrying your forever person. At least that’s what he felt..were you having doubts? Did you not love him as much as he loved you? What had he done wrong? Swallowing the hard lump that had instantly formed in his throat, Eren proceeded to ask questions, seeing if he could maybe get through to you to figure out what was wrong.

“Is there something that would make you think different? I mean, personally..I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life. Honestly, it still doesn’t feel real..”

for a moment, he began to reminisce on the moments leading up to the night he popped the question. Searching relentlessly for the perfect ring..enlisting the help of his best friends and even your girls to ensure that it was one that you’d love. He took extra special care to make the night unforgettable. Eren had even flown to go see his mom to ask for the gift she had given him years ago that he now wanted to give to you..if that wasn’t enough, he’d even taken you to your granny’s grave and asked for her blessing of sorts. He was a wreck, even crying because he was so happy and wanted her to know that he’d take care of you from now on..for the first time in his young twenty seven years, he was truly grateful and he wanted nothing more than to be the ideal man for you. A husband that you’d be proud of..one that you bragged to your friends about over lunch, one that you’d dip out on plans early to get back to. That was the type of relationship he had envisioned; one where nothing else mattered when you two were together. Now it seemed that you were having reservations..

“I’m so scared…” Just then, the sounds of your words were muddled by whimpers. He had no idea that you were this conflicted by the matter..and if so, why not say something?! Flipping you over, he’d be met with your beautiful brown eyes that always seemed to burst with love and excitement were welling with tears that were only moments from spilling. Brushing your cheek, Eren gazed upon you with a worried expression over taking his face. How could he have been so dumb?..here you were hurting and he hadn’t even clocked it. “Why, baby? I don’t understand..of what?” Truth was, you were afraid of marriage in general but even more so, if not being what you envisioned. You were afraid of things not being picturesque and perfect. That you’d wake up one day and end up just like the rest of the girls he’d supposedly dumped. Discarded to the wayside after he grew tired of them. You didn’t want everyone to be right about the two of you! Another passed around Instagram model with nothing of substance to offer, a philandering rapper with commitment issues..the headlines were certain to be brutal. But above all else..you only wanted to do this once. You only ever wanted to walk down that aisle one time in your life. You loved this man more than anything in this world so the last thing you wanted was to take his hand in marriage only to be sliding that ring off a few years down the road. It was a sacred thing and you never wanted to lose sight of that.

“Of this..of us not working out. I mean, I love you so much and there’s nothing I want more than to be your wife but everywhere I turn, it seems like somebody wants the opposite. As if we’re not meant to be. I thought everyone would’ve been as happy as we are. But it’s always something..”

granted, he was no stranger to the gossip either. Between his fangirls and the blogs, they wouldn’t give you a break. They were furious that someone had snatched up their precious EJ and it was some girl who seemingly came out of nowhere. According to them, you weren’t his type, you couldn’t possibly love him the way he deserved and there were at least ten other women who were more fit to take your position. It was insane. Although he was never much for social media and its sick antics, he’d done his fair share of defense for you. Which spoke volumes. After a while, he rid himself of all accounts and focused solely on you. Despite it being how you made your living, he wished you’d do the same. He couldn’t imagine petty accusations with zero basis being the reason that he lost you. It would crush him, truly. Even so, he’d done as he always had at times like these and pulled you close to his chest, swaddled you in those muscular arms and peppered your forehead with gentle kisses.

“Do you remember the first night we met? At the club?” It seemed like such an odd time to be going down memory lane but that’s how Eren was..he could tolerate a lot of things but seeing you cry was not one of them. So he wanted to try a different approach.

“I couldn’t forget. I had such a good time..”

“So did I..hell, I was so nervous around you, I almost messed up my whole performance that night.” The two of you break into a small fit of laughter as you look back on the antics of your earlier days together. The wild nights, the hookups, the tension leading up to you making things official..it was all a journey. You’d find yourself giggling as he held you close to him. You seemed far more comfortable and vulnerable now; able to express your feelings more freely. Which was a great thing for him.

“Please..I couldn’t even concentrate. You kept teasing me and shit. I don’t know how I made it through that without embarrassing myself.” But alas, he’d think it was cute. Watching you stumble over your words, seeing you squeeze your thighs together when he switched up those steamier lyrics to fit you and when he ran a finger underneath your chin, you nearly collapsed! Being on stage with your celebrity crush was not for the weak..

“Yeah, but you did and do you remember what everyone was saying after that? All the bullshit they said about us?” It was something you’d never forget, truthfully. For days after, the infamous photo of you guys hugged up on a lounge couch in the VIP section circulated the web for an entire week. There were countless headlines, alleging that you two were an item, that you were hooking up..the game of telephone had become so terrible that three days later, stan accounts and grown adults alike had concocted stories of you two having sex backstage and him doing inappropriate things right there in front of everyone. Even so called ‘witnesses’ backed up the claims. Naturally, all of it was false but it still didn’t stop people from running with whatever narrative they saw fit. Despite the fact that prior to that appearance, you’d never ever laid eyes on this man, less known did all of the things they accused you of. You were complete strangers..again, it stopped no one’s rumor mill from running!

“Yeah..I do. All of it just sounded like people had too much time on their hands.”

but his point wasn’t quite driven home yet..still clutching you, he’d chuckle once more and just nod. “Mhm..and what about when we first started dating? Remember the dumb shit they said then?” Once again, you’d answer his question, giggling when you recalled how stupid it all was. From the accusations of him being nothing more than a pay pig for some lavish lifestyle they claimed you were flexing online. Or that he wasn’t really faithful because he did a show with a former ‘partner’, who was nothing more than a PR stunt to begin with. Nevermind the fact that she was a lesbian! “Like when they said you were cheating on me with your ex? Trust me, I couldn’t escape that one even if I wanted to.” “Which was crazy because she was way more interested in you than me. Even asked me for your number..” seeing his expression furrow into a silly pout and you couldn’t hold it together another second. You’d burst into laughter at the thought. “I’m serious! She got mad because I didn’t bring you with me..must think I’m stupid or sum’. Little Miss Hoes always pulled more girls than I ever could.” The mental image of a one hundred thirty pound, five foot four blonde stealing his potential prospects had you rolling around and in much better spirits. “You’re a mess, you know that?” Which was his one and only goal.

“Well I’m glad somebody found my lack of game funny.” But truthfully, the only woman he wanted was right here. Which was the entire point of this little roundabout trip down memory lane..it didn’t matter what happened back then or what people claimed to know about him..he only cared about what was to come. The life, the future that he was building with you trumped over anything that they could say. They didn’t know how drastically he had changed for you. How he was hopelessly in love..how much softer and compassionate he had become so he was a better man for you. Even when you weren’t around, his beloved (y/n) was the topic of conversation..oftentimes, his boys would make fun of him for how much of a ‘simp’ he had grown to be. How his voice changed in pitch when you were on the phone, his eyes radiating whilst talking to you..it was the cutest thing! So if there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that he was all in. He had no regrets or doubts about asking you to marry him. He was ready. Anybody from his past was a mere afterthought and he wasn’t missing out. All he could do was pray that you felt the same. Turning your head towards him, EJ looked you directly in the eyes and began to speak.

“Listen, princess..I know it isn’t easy. Being with someone like me. I’m not perfect..not by a long shot. Truth is, I was really selfish back in the day. I wasn’t thinking about anybody but myself. Hell, until you came along, I still didn’t. I had always told myself I’d never let anyone get close to me just so I didn’t have to worry about another person. Marriage, dating..seemed like a foreign concept to me..” this was the first time in his life where he was able to be vulnerable..where he could lay all of his emotions bare. Intertwining your fingers together, Eren pulled them close and placed gentle kisses across your knuckles. A comforting tactic for the both of you.

“But right now...there’s nothing else I want more than to be your husband. To keep making more of these memories..(Y/N), I couldn’t imagine doing this without you. I can’t take back what I’ve done or who I was. And I’m so sorry that you’ve had to be on the receiving end of it. But I don’t care about what happened back then or what they say about us. I love you..I love you so damn much. Please believe me when I say that.” By this point, faint traces of tears began to stream once more. You were no longer sad, hurt or worried but rather..relieved. Relieved that his heart was equally devoted to this as yours. You’d do whatever it took to make this work. Outside interferences and opinions aside..

“And I love you more, Eren. I promise, I won’t let anything or anyone come between us.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

No relationship was ideal and obviously, just like rainy days, bad ones were guaranteed as well but you could always weather the storm as long as you were together..

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