#bane x AFAB!reader

[ch4nb4ng]

Marital Duties

Pairing: Chan x afab!reader

Word count: 9.4k

Genre: Established relationship, married

Warning: SMUT (18+ only), phone sex, sexting, car sex, mention of boobs, oral sex (f. receving), penetration, swearing, mention of cum, mentions of pussy, kissing, praise

Note: ok i kinda nervous to post this but yas! Here is my inspo (here) (here) (here) warning it’s literally p word.

Tagged: @seo--changbin @j-0ne25 @cb97whoree @kpopsstuffs

Summary: Having a job that meant travelling and spending time away from your husband made the absence grow much fonder for you and your needs, as well as your husbands.

Work conferences were the bane of your existence. Yes you were away from your kid and sometimes it was hard, but being away from your husband was harder. There was no doubt about your job. Being a world renowned forensic psychologist was amazing and something you wanted for a long time. Sometimes though, it was nice to just curl up on the couch, read a good book, watch a comforting movie; there was nothing wrong with indulging in self-care, you just did not have the time to do so. 

The recent promotion into becoming head of the north-west region of mental health care was a big step up from your previous job. No one than you was more qualified for this. Everyone, colleagues and board members put your name up. Psychology was your life, but your family was bigger. 

Highschool sweethearts, you and your husband had been inseparable since what felt like the dawn of time. Meeting at 15, having your first dance at 17 at prom. Graduating and going to college together; If you had a dollar for everytime you accomplished a big milestone with him or because of him, you would be swimming in luxury. When the two of you got married, things just fell into place even more. The doubt of being able to help people mentally after graduating from your post grad made you nervous, but then again, you never thought that you would be married to such a wonderful man. A dream job at your local hospital fell into your lap, and your husband became the nurse that everybody wanted to assist them with their care. Working in close contact with him everyday was just another blessing in disguise; you simply could not get enough of him. It was impossible to get sick of him.

That was when you decided to have your first child. What could be a better mix than the two of you combined? The first 4 years of parenthood came with its challenges. Nevertheless, it was the best decision you ever made, and you couldn’t think of anyone better than to share the unfamiliar journey with.

The promotion, however, meant that you wouldn't work with your husband as much, and spending time with your daughter was a little limited, but you knew he would never tell you to turn something down, and in a way it was the best decision for your marriage. The times together were shorter, but it also meant that every moment was savored tenfold. The time was better quality, the acts of service more thoughtful, and the sex. The sex, was that much more passionate, just like the first time he made love to you. He would always find ways to surprise you. Whether it was the way he grasped, grabbed you on the fibers that lingered to be touched, the way his body pressed upon yours, lips lingering on new places. You were always amazed with how much he could do, and what he was capable of.

These are the ideas that tortured your mind when you were away on business trips. Calling him and hearing his voice, seeing his face through the tiny phone screen was not enough. It didn’t matter how long you had been together, you always craved and missed him significantly.

“Hang on,” he whispered through the phone speaker, “someone wants to say hi to you.”

Your heart beamed with joy every time you saw her little face on the screen. God she looked like her dad, and you knew she'd  grow up to be a beautiful woman.

“Hi mommy,” she giggled, fingers crinkling then uncrkinly as she waved at the camera, “I miss you mommy.”

“Aw baby,” you pouted, “I miss you too. Mommy will be home tomorrow. Now it’s time for you to sleep.”

“Yes,” he cooed, “and daddy is going to read you a bedtime after you say goodnight to mommy.”

Your baby squealed with joy, running out of the frame and to her room. You could do nothing but chuckles, careless that she was that excited over a book of words that she forgot to say goodnight.

“Let me call you back at 15.”

You nodded, pressing the red cross before rolling on your back and looking up at the ceiling, admiring the off white paint color, heart beating out of your chest every second that the callback was not made. It’s not that you were worried he wouldn’t call back, you just felt that longing you always did when you weren’t looking at him.

The vibration on your chest was extra sensitive. You rolled back over, now lying on your front with your hand resting on your chin, other hand holding the phone as you answered. 

“Hey baby.”

“Hiiii,” you whispered, a smile on your face impossible to be rid of.

“She was out like a light.”

“I’m glad.”

“How was your day, baby? I want to hear all about it.”

You giggled as you saw him get up, walking into the bathroom of your house as he placed you against the bench next to the sink. Chan wasn’t shy. He thought it was completely normal to remove his scrubs and leave his upper body bare as he bent down to the bottom drawer, taking out his skincare and placing it on his face. Chan was your husband. You had seen him shirtless 100 more times than you could count. It should not affect you this much. It should not make the temperature of your cheeks rise. It should not cause a sudden sharpness of change in your breath. It should not make your eyes bulge, and it should definitely not send you into a head spin when his biceps flexed when washing his face. Being a clinical psychologist meant having pristine precision and concentration, so if anybody got a hold of this live footage right now, they might question your profession.

“Y/n, Y/n?”

You blinked, quickly snapping your head to get back in the game. It was too late, however, your husband was already smirking at your distraction. You could try and play it off, but the both of you knew that he was too smart to fall for that.

“Sorry babe, I’m a bit distracted.”

“Oh yeah? What’s distracting you?”

“Oh please,” you scoffed, “you know exactly what you are doing.”

“Me?” He gasped, placing a hand on his chest, flexing his opposite bicep, “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his obvious attempt to woo you over, the subtle flirt. Sometimes it was easy to resist, but in this case, it was easier to play along, feign innocence until he truly told you what he wanted. The two of you liked to play such games, especially when you were on the road. It was time for you to sit up, placing Chan on the lamp atop of the bedside table before placing yourself on the edge of the hotel bed. The buttons on your shirt were suddenly feeling a little tight. The smirk on your husband’s face grew the moment he saw the first two buttons undone, a sneak peak of your cleavage making its debut for the night. You stopped there, gently pulling down the fabric, stretching the collar of the shirt, consequently putting your chest on full display. 

“Two can play that game Mr. Bang.”

A deep chuckle escaped his lips as he walked over to your shared bedroom, placing his phone in similar fashion to yours before removing his bottoms, your husband now in nothing but his boxers as he laid down, stretching out his legs before lifting you again, wanting the closest view to your fingers continuing to remove one button at a time, a painfully slow movement to your fingertips. Fuck. Now he kind of regretted starting this game with you tonight. A gasp of gratification spilt from Chan’s lips as he watched the satin material that made up your shirt slither off those, in his words, gorgeous shoulders of yours. The black lace bra, the one being your husband’s favorites out of pure coincidence the only garment covering your chest. 

Chan loved every part of you, make no mistake. He would worship every part of your body 24/7 if he could. He simply could never get enough of you, but your chest, your breasts were on a whole different level. Chan loved your boobs. It didn’t matter what the two of you were doing, promiscuous acts or not, if he could have his hands on them, he could. Cuddling, sex, hugs; call him a pervert, but he didn’t care. It was his wife for god sakes. He would feel abnormal if he wasn’t attracted to them. Conveniently for you, this was something you could play to your advantage. Didn’t want to do the dishes? Show him your cleavage. Needed to put your daughter to sleep but you wanted him to do it? Promise him to show your cleavage after he does so. It was a convenient weapon to use, and this was the perfect time to use it. It was fair, seeing as he was using the weapon of his own to try and get you where he wanted.

“Aw come on,” he whined, “you did that on purpose?”

“Did what,” you smiled, fingers gently tracing the lace attached to the strap, “I didn’t do anything.”

Tapping the phone screen, you sighed. It was like, and your flight home was something that required you getting up much earlier that you would ever prefer. You should go to sleep. Hang up on him. You were going to see him tomorrow anyway, surely you could suppress your urges until then. 

But then you saw your husband redirect his palm from the outside of his undergarment, which was obvious to the eye, to the inside, a gentle slap against his skin as it dived past the waist band. Fuck this was cruel now. Not only because you could see his hands subtly tumbling underneath, he drew attention to how hard he already was, and you didn’t know what aroused you more: his probaby pulsating length or the fact that he was as aroused as he was because of you. It didn’t matter how many times it occurred, Chan always had a way of making you feel special. Physically, emotionally, intimately; it was part of his aura, and one of the main reasons that you were so attracted to him in the first place.

“Baby,” you gasped, hands traveling up waist and to your chest, gently kneading the mass in an attempt to match his slow pace that he was palming himself, “you’re so naughty. I have to go to bed.”

“Aw come on baby,” he groaned, head resting atop the headboard, gaze even more piercing at the angle his head was at rest, “I haven’t seen you all week.”

“I know Chan,” you sighed, your next words going to be knowingly disappointing for him, “I have to check out at 3am and it’s already almost 10. You know what I’m like when I don't get my beauty sleep.”

Chan gave you a disapproving pout as he took his hands out of boxers, a shiny ring reappearing from the undergarment as he took the phone with both and lay flat on his back, sinking under the sheets and head gliding onto the pillow. He was humbly accepting defeat, most likely because he would see you tomorrow anyway; that’s when he could have his fun.

“I know baby it’s ok,” he smiled, bringing his face as close as possible to the camera, lips still pouting, “let me give you a kiss goodnight.”

“Thank you baby,” you giggled, also leaning forward to kiss the phone screen simultaneously before whispering a small, “goodnight.”

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, and the adrenaline from your almost raunchy rendezvous over the phone wore off quickly. You weren’t that young anymore. Getting tired was much easier. There was much less energy, especially after getting riled up like that. Even if it was what you saw while you were sleeping in your dreams, and you only have to wait 12 hours to see your beautiful husband in the flesh. 

***

The alarm caused a fright, a deep groaning sound of annoyance bellowing from you, but that quickly wore off. The immediate thought of seeing Chan and your beautiful daughter being the main reason for your sudden change in temperament. Your bags were already packed and you organized your brain knowing that you would be too tired to do it in the morning The smile on your face couldnt dared to be wiped off once you were in the taxi. The cool breeze of the warm summer hitting your face as you pushed the window in the back seat halfway down. Summer was your favorite time of the year, especially since it was the time you got to spend with your family that was of the best quality. All of the aspects of your job you loved, even the times you traveled. However, your heart did sink a little when you had to travel at this time of the year. The school holidays always felt too short, so when you had to travel, the amount was even shorter.

A ding from your phone brought out of your somewhat solemn daze, heat creeping to your cheeks immediately:

[hubby <3] 7:00 am Can’t wait to see you, hope there aren't any delays at the airport.

*one attachment*

Jesus fuck. Now sending a full blown dick pick with your daughter in the car, which you assumed was there, was definitely not the way to go; and thank god your husband knew that. But that did not let him off the hook. It was a photo of him, in the mirror, with his face cut off and only his lips in the frame. He was wearing a black sleeveless tank and those fucking grey tracksuit pants. Call yourself cliche, but nothing turned you on more than that particular piece of clothing. Chan had one hand on the camera, the other hand at the base of his hardened length. He always did this. As mature as Chan was, the times he chose to be inappropriate truly were the most inconvenient for you. A loud gasp escaped your lips, head almost hitting the chair in front as the driver came to a halt.

“Everything okay back there?”

“Uh yes,” your head snapped towards him, nodding furiously as a terrible attempt at acting in the norm, “why did we stop?”

“We are at the airport, miss?”

His tone sounded one of question, kind of looking at you in the rear mirror like you were one of the strangest passengers he had. You looked outside, a ferocious laugh escaping your lips as you decided it was better to say nothing and just pay, get out, and grab your own luggage. The awkwardness left your mind in shambles. How dare he send such a photo. Your husband. It was most likely to get revenge from last night, because he knew you would have to sit on the plane and suffer in silence.

Your luggage was checked in quickly, security easy to get through; there was plenty of time to wait in the boarding lounge. At first you were annoyed by the message. The sexual frustration that had already accumulated from your absence away from him was enough, but if anything, it felt like this was an extra punishment for last night.

But then you opened it again, started analyzing it (if you could call it that) until your finger was subconsciously in your mouth. It didn’t matter how many times you looked at him, your husband, he was always going to do it for you, every single time. The ache that has been coming and going throughout the week returned, and it made you annoyed. So annoyed that you found yourself lifting your butt from your chair, walking to the bathroom and locking yourself in one of the stalls. Gripping the bottom of your shirt, you pulled it down as much as you could without taking it off, mimicking a downward looking angle in an attempt to copy your husband, lips down as the camera clicked, off silent. Fuck. It’s fine. The idea that people may have heard the sounds of you taking a photo in the toilet. You were too fueled with a horny rage to think of the ramifications as you sent your photo, giving in and responding to him.

[Y/N] 8:30am No delays. Make sure you’re there on time.

*one attachment*

Oh, he was gonna hate that. Chan had patience for a lot of things. But short, dry messages were something that made him mad. Serves him for sending you that first. You knew exactly what his reaction would be as well, but at least you could board the plane in peace.

**

It was around 3 hours before the plane arose from one location and landed in another. The plane ride was painful. You tried to do the things you usually would. Create drafts for your patients, read a book, watch a downloaded netflix movie, and just sink into your non-reclining chair and relax; but you simply couldn’t.

The brain rot that was the simple image of your husband’s half naked torso should not be affecting you this much. But that was the problem too. It wasn’t just the picture. That image was the catalyst for the sexual rumination that had been numbing your brain for the past week. The want to get home was even stronger now knowing that you really had something to look forward to.

Of course, to your dismay and longing, the baggage claim took forever, security had a long line, and by the time all of that had been completed, it was, of course, an hour schedule that you told your husband to come and pick you up. The look on his face was sour to say the least. There he was, leaning against the exterior of your shared four wheel drive, drinking his probably now lukewarm coffee. The tingle instantly came back to your core, feeling like a teenage girl again. The scene was just like old times. Chan, waiting around the corner from your house to come and pick you up. The only thing that was different was that it was slightly taller, and had a few more wrinkles. Nonetheless, he looked super hot. Still wearing those grey sweatpants, and a fucking black tank. A fucking blank tank that was probably the tightest fitting pieceing of clothing in his fucking closet. His stance was strong, biceps, triceps, and ¾ of his pecs bulging out in public, and it was truly making your brain dizzy. You walked over quietly, the jarring sound of your suitcase wheels rolling along the parking lot concrete ruining the suspense of your arrival. Chan’s head snapped, eye widening the moment you appeared in his vision. 

“Hi baby, sorry I’m late the customs took for-”

The interruption was welcome as Chan shoved his phone in his pocket, apparently with an empty takeaway coffee cup falling to the floor as he enveloped you into his arms, a groan of admiration falling from his lips as they immediately attached to yours, your body to relaxing against his, eyes fluttering shut at his touch. God, it was only a week. One week, but you craved his touch more than anything in the world. It truly was the little things such as his calloused textures, the warmth of his skin, his smile. Holy fuck his smile was, in your opinion, the greatest thing in the world that ever existed. 

“Mmmh,” you hummed, gently pulling away, hands snaking across your husband’s waist, a smug smile on your lips, “I missed you.”

“Missed you too baby,” he growled, morning raspiness to his tone, “how was your flight?”

The implication of his question made your eyes ogle, the visual image of his text message imprinting on your brain. The smirk that developed on his face formed the expression of realization that hit you. Suddenly his grip on your waist was tighter, and Chan was pulling you in even closer, leaving you to feel everything; yes, everything. 

“It was good,” you giggled, knowing that you had been caught, “what was not good was your behavior since last night.”

“Hmm is that so? I don't see this being a one-sided activity?”

Your right hand left his torso, smacking him on the chest before taking a step back and walking to the car. It was fun to pretend to be annoyed, especially because you knew it would work your husband up even more. Chan hated when you sulked, especially when he playfully called you out. Chan always liked games, and so did you, because you knew that there was always one thing it would lead to. The longer the game went on, the more passionate the ending to this game would be. You walked into the car, peacefully sitting in the passenger seat as you left your husband to take your suitcase and place it in the boot. Serves him right for being a smartass. There was no sound except for the car door once the two of you were inside. The ignition was turned on, and so were you, watching your husband's arm reach over to the shoulder of your car seat, his head turned to look behind him. This was so dumb! You really should not be aroused by this; you’ve seen him do this thousands of times.

“You okay babe?”

You shook your head, snapping yourself out of this lustful daze, “yeah, why?”

“Ok it’s just,” he paused, shifting into drive, then placing his hand on the inside of your thigh, “you’re staring at me like a piece of meat.”

“I am not,” you scoffed, “you wish I was staring at you like that.”

He said nothing, a light chuckle following as the car fell into another silence. A comfortable one at that, well, to an extent. His thumb was gently nudging at your skin, knuckles inching closer to your center. There was something in the air, and the longer it lingered, the harder it was to ignore it. The want. The need to have him. It was impossible. You knew that even if you did get home soon that your daughter was home, and there was no way you were going to traumatize her like that; kids remember everything. If you took too long in the car, your father would get suspicious. He was one to get on your nerves like that, especially if he spent more time than agreed to watching your beautiful child. 

“I got your text message this morning.”

Chan’s eyes were on the road, which forced you to keep yours. Your eyebrows furrowed however, knowing that the street he just turned down was not the right way to your house. Instead, Chan turned the opposite direction, the car coming to an immediate stop at a lookout, but not just any lookout. The lookout east. The two of you came from a small town, meaning there weren't many spots to go; that was until the lookout east was uncovered. Back then it was the talk of the town, the go to hookup spot for many. You have seen it yourself. It had a beautiful view however, and most of the time you and Chan would go just to admire the view, but did not mean that every time would be an innocent one. The two of you had not been in years, and there was a big question mark as to why you were here right now. Chan said nothing, getting out of the car and walking over to your side, opening your own door before opening the back door, crawling in with you following. The two of you got comfortable, that was, until Chan pinned you down to the back seat, lips once again attacking yours as he pressed his horny groin into yours, a deep groan bellowing from your husband's chest. His dominance was easy to comply with, the desperate moan falling from your lips a culmination of feelings from the past 12 hours. This really could have been the horniest you have ever been in your whole entire life, even including the times of excessive sexual hormonal changes during pregnancy. His tongue snaked past your lips, without any slight of permission as his hips fell into a gentle rhythm. Chan moved with such delicacy and poise, yet somehow he was able to convey his ultra high level of arousal. Now you were in big trouble; it was serious business when Chan pinned you down like that. It meant he had serious business to take care of. 

“Chan,” you tried to speak, his lips interrupting each word, “what, are you doing?”

He pulled away, sitting up. Chan said nothing, eyes fixated on your chest as he grasped your wrist to pull you up, your body clumsily falling into him as you fixed your balance. Chan was quick to attack your lips again, hands making light work as they gripped onto the edge of your shirt. Your arms lifted unconsciously, allowing the kiss to break as he took off your shirt, your upper body in nothing but your undergarments. Your husband was like a kid in a candy store the moment he saw the slightest bit of cleavage. Chan’s arms wrapped around your back as he effortlessly unclasped the unwanted fabric, lips immediately attaching to your left nipple. A gracious moan fell from your lips, a hand tickling the back of the hair at the base of his skull, keeping a guidance. At first this tongue was small, gentle. A few kitty licks right in the center. Although it was minimal touch, you were one to have more sensitive nipples, so the feeling was already heaven enough. It wasn’t until his entire mouth was attached, a parietal noise of vacuum escaping his lips each time your tit went in and out of his mouth. 

“Mmmmm,” you hummed, back arching slightly at the subtle texture of his teeth, “you’re like fuckin newborn.”

“Mhh can’t help it,” he huffed, out of breath, hand replacing his lips for a brief moment, “makes me want to have another kid.”

Chan gave you no time to reply, lips resuming their position, but now on the opposite nipple. His fingers never stopped moving, either on your shoulder, running up and down your arms, but mainly on your breasts, doing whatever he can to feel you. Each squeeze of the mound brought a whine to your throat. His statement ran through your mind and just stayed there. Having another kid was not really something the two of you had ever spoken about. It wasn’t that it was off the table, no. It truly was just something that had not come up in conversation. You could understand why he wanted to have one, and in this moment especially, it had nothing to do with having an actual child. 

It is true that when you met your husband, your body shape resembled more of a P, but when you were pregnant with your daughter, Chan was on another planet. Any chance he got, his hands were on them. Call him twisted, but he loved how much bigger and softer they got when you were deep into pregnancy.

When you came back out of thought, and the major distraction of your husband's lips on your body, you pushed him away gently. You followed the sort of harsh motion with a gentle peck to his lips, arm wrapping around his neck as you smiled at him in disbelief. The last chance the two of you, well more him, had been so reckless like this was so long ago you would not even be able to recall. This didn’t mean you hated it though, if anything, it satisfied that little part of your adolescence that lingered. The adolescence that was always sparked whenever you were away. Whenever your calls turned to a lustful space. The photos. The phone calls. Usually the ‘rebellious’ behaviors were to compensate for the distance. But now, Chan was hungry for you, even when you were right in front of him.

“Babe, what has gotten into you?”

Your husband buried his face into your chest, a large breath filling his nostrils, your scent deeply satisfying him before he responded. 

“I just missed you a lot, baby. And that picture you sent drove me fucking wild.”

A smirk appeared on your lips, legs hovering over your husband's waist before encasing the lower limbs around his waist, a light amount of friction created by the swift move of your hips makes him hum in pleasure. Your eyes, now sitting on top of his lap, gazed over, looking down on the poor man. There was a slight emotion of guilt there. Depriving him of getting what he wanted. You didn't really care though. If anything, pissing him off usually led to better sex after, and there was nothing in this moment that you wanted more. 

“Mmmh, as much as I want this,” you mumbled, another soft kiss in between your sentences, “I need to go home and see my daughter which I have not seen in a week.” 

“You’re right,” Chan chuckled, “I am getting a little bit carried away, aren't I?” 

Yeah he was impatient, but he understood, and it was one thing you really loved about him. He was extremely empathetic, sometimes to a fault. Able to put himself in everyone else’s shoes. So as soon as you mentioned wanting to see your daughter more, he understood. He passed you your bra and shirt, quickly helping you put them back on, not without stealing another mouth watering kiss, and hopping back into the driving and passenger seat promptly. 

The drive was once again peaceful; which lasted around 30 seconds. Maybe it was a better idea to just fuck in the back of your car, because the ache between your legs, when reflecting on the past week, was at the most intense it had been. Maybe this was your karma for withholding your body from your very eager husband. It didn’t matter now because whether you liked it or not, all of this was going to have been scheduled at a much later, uncertain time.

Chan’s hand was placed on your thigh like before, the light background and the noise somewhat distracting you, but not for long. Your husband’s grip was getting stronger and stronger, inching closer and closer to your wanting pussy with each second. A sharp gasp left your lips when his middle finger traced over the hem of your jeans, your level of arousal heightened to the point where even the breeze most likely was enough to partly satisfy yourself.

“Chan.”

“Y/n.”

“Stop it,” you whined, fingers coincidentally fidgeting with the button of your jeans, following the same direction with your zipper before the pair of pants were below your waist, your bottom undergarments now on display. You looked down, embarrassed at the mass wet patch coating your panties. Your husband's hands took a little bit of a wander, but froze almost immediately when he felt that familiar patch he had felt oh so many times. The digits were quick to act, another moan spelling from your mouth as soon as he got you in the exact spot he knew to touch. That were the perks of having a husband, because whether the time of orgasm was long or short, he knew exactly where to touch you to make that happen.

“Your body is having the opposite reaction,” he smirked, “and my eyes are strictly on the road.”

“And keep it that way.”

“Mhmm,” he ignored, fingers somehow able to push your panties to the side, raw fingertips now spreading open those pussy lips. God you felt dirty, nasty. How could you do this in your fucking car? Too horny to even wait until you were in the comfort of your bedroom. You were much too harsh on yourself. It was most definitely your husband's fault for opening that can of worms the moment he rocked up on the facetime camera without his shirt on. Therefore, your humility was minimized, there were always much worse things you could have done. Chan was easily able to find that wanting little entrance of yours, two fingers effortlessly plunging themselves inside, the unsympathetic texture of his hard working fingers gently scratching the velvet interior of your walls, hips now gently rocking back and forth on him. Your hands came to your breasts automatically, pinching, twisting, flicking the sensitive buds in any way possible that could create a replica of Chan’s mouth from previous moments. Fuck, no one else could do you like your husband, even yourself.

“Fuck Chan,” you whimpered, covering your face in embarrassment.

“Shh it’s okay,” he cooed, coaxing you through his honey textured tone, “just let it feel good, worry about other things later.”

Just as you let your head fall against the headrest, eye fluttering shut, the car came to a halt. Eyes flying open, a mound of disappointment when your visual fields were filled with your front yard. To your dismay, your husband withdrew his fingers from your pussy, a large squelching sound in the moment as he placed his hands on the gear shift, placing the toe of your into park before turning the car ignition off. The look you were giving your husband now was one of sadness, despair, making him laugh. He loved when you were dramatic.

“You’re not happy to be home?”

“Shut up,” you huffed, redoing your pants up before storming out of the car, forcing your husband to grab your suitcase as you stood impatiently at the front door, waiting for him to open it. It would be impossible to wipe the puffed up look of content on his face, knowing that he got right under your skin. Games were fun to play, but you simply knew that if he didn’t give you what you wanted soon, the house would fall into chaos. It was one thing to wind you up, but this time it was too far to push through, then stop just when things were getting good.

A fake smile plastered on your face, the refreshing thought of seeing your daughter coming back into your mind as you walked through your abode. It faded however, unable to see or hear anything that resembled your little baby. It wasn’t until you walked down your long hallway that led to your kitchen that you saw the note on your marble bench. It read the following:

Hi Darling, hope you had a safe flight!

I have taken my beautiful granddaughter to the park for a playdate with a couple of her friends and the other available parents. 

We are leaving at around midday, and won’t be back for a few couple hours. Apologies you will have to wait a little longer, but I couldn’t say no to her beating eyes when she asked me.

I'll see you when I’m looking at you.

Dad

“Chan!”

Your timbre was loud, somewhat frightening your husband as he rolled your luggage across the floor, meeting you in your shared kitchen. He was kind of worried. Chan knew that your dad was taking care of her while he went to pick you up, but he never said anything about taking her out. He stood next to you, trying to analyze your expressions before you spoke. You missed your daughter a lot, there was nothing false about that statement. Nonetheless, when the smug look came to your face at the thought of what having an empty house implied, you couldn't help yourself. 

“Did you know that my dad took her to the park?”

Oh fuck. Chan thought he was in trouble; big big trouble. 

You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to suppress your smile at how hopeless he looked. Being the medical professional you were, it was easy to read your husband like a book. And after his actions, which were already on the verge of crossing the threshold of what you would put up with, he was in his every right mind to react this way. Walking on eggshells was the right way to go. From his friskiness on the phone, to sending an almost naked picture to you in public, to publicly groping and prodding at your highly aroused body in the discomfort of your car, to now delaying your reunion with his daughter; my my my did he dig himself a massive grave that he would not be able to dig himself out of this one. 

“No,” he answered, hesitance leaking from his tone, “she must have asked him after I left.”

“Right,” you paddled, handing the note your dad had left to your husband. A sigh of relief in the form of his chest falling from the fat breath he sucked in before dissipating from his chest. Taking a step close, your husband ignored, focusing all his efforts on the written material until he felt the texture of what was your fingertips find a place on his torso, index fingers ‘accidentally’ finding a way underneath the hem of the thin material that made up his shirt. The note was removed from your husband’s face in the form of a toss with his own hand, eyes piercing into yours the more and more the skin of his torso was being exposed to the light. Your palms then became a part of the conversation, gently pressing against your husband's groin as you could feel his length awake from a light slumber.

“Why am I sensing that you’re not mad now?”

“Me,” You gasped, feigning ignorance as you finally pulled the flimsy material over your husband’s head, “I was never mad?”

“You weren’t?”

“No Mr. Bang,” you giggled, wrapping your hands around your husband’s neck once more, “Mad that you have been teasing me for almost 24 hours straight?”

Chan didn’t answer, instead sweeping your legs off the floor and into your arms, carrying your bridal style back down the said hallway, bedroom door conveniently already open as he laid you down on your back. A hum of happiness fell from your lips at the familiar feeling of your own bed sheets encompassing your back. You were brought out of those thoughts quickly however, your husband left you little to revel in bed texture, removing his sweats immediately before lifting you by the armpits again, leaving you to stand and him sitting on the edge of your shared mattress. The invitation of your barely dressed husband with a pressing erection straining his boxers was a very enticing seat. One that you took without a second thought as his hands were straight for your throat, a gentle squeeze as your lips connected first, legs cloaking his waist once more, the both of your tongues fighting for dominance over each other. Chan’s mouth vibrated as he relaxed into the sensual nature of the kiss, hands drifting away from your upper body and right to the outside of your thighs, a gentle tingle of fingertips dancing across your heated skin as you pulled away from a brief moment, wanting to match at least half of his body in the lack of clothing. Your husband helped as he withdrew his hands from your body for a brief moment, deciding to, rather than pull your nice shirt over your head like a normal person, he pulled the seams apart, splitting the shirt into two before using one hand only to unclasp your bra this time. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t impressed by it everytime.

“I liked that shirt,” you pouted, “did you have to rip it?” “I’m sorry y/n,” he chuckled, hands snaking up your sides another time, “I just want you so badly.”

There was no time to react as your husband gripped your hips, spinning you around and pinning you into the mattress. His second attack followed impeccably, hands fumbling on your jeans before getting them undone, panties groped in unison as they hit the side wall. That was an irrelevant detail, because Chan was lying on his front, abs rubbing against your core as he brought his hands back to your tits; his most favorite thing in the world. The man could not keep his hands still, mouth slobbering all over the sensitive skin as he began his second attack of the day on your nipples. 

“Never gets old,” you giggle, a gentle moan following after at the contrast of your flimsy mounds and rock hard nubs. Chan’s hands felt like no other, and when he had them on you, it was the time when you felt like the luckiest woman in the world. Your husband’s chuckles followed closely to yours. Seeing his wife happy was one thing, but knowing that he could make you feel this good aroused him to another level. His admiration deepend, yes, but it was somewhat of an ego boost for him. Knowing that he was that good with his fingers. 

Your husband’s lips, like his hands, began to wander, a strip of wet kisses trailing down the center of your stomach, causing him to crawl back further and further until his lips were just above your core. Chan brought his fingers right back to where he had them in the car, easily able to slip in two fingers without warning, a deep groan gritting his teeth at the way your back arched for him monumentally. The sight was one that he had been craving, one that you craved yourself. It did not matter how far apart you were from your husband, his appetite for you would never change. If he wanted to be close, he wanted to be close. If he wanted to be far, well that was just simply not plausible. As much as he wanted to pleasure you, make you feel good, like the diligent role of a husband should be, it was the closeness that motivated him every time. Chan longed for these moments, especially since the introduction of your daughter restricted the ability to do so. At any possible moment, Chan would demand to do whatever he could to profess his love, and it was always done with his mouth; his tongue to be more specific. 

In this scenario, rather than speaking with tongue, it was sticking out of your husband’s lips, flattening as he dived in head first without hesitation, your hands automatically rummaging through the thick mound of curls that supported the top of his head. His tongue was heaven, spreading your pussy lips farther and farther apart and he used that ferocious organ to fiercely suck on your wanting nub. A monstrous moan escaped your lips at the contact, a gratifying humm coming from his throat at the way you tugged on his locks. Your eyes were barely open, unable to prevent yourself letting your eyelids dance back and forth from open to shut, mesmerized at the current view you had when hunching your neck to see. Chan could see the way you were desperate to view his fulfilling prophecy that was going down on his wife, making sure to lay his chest flat on your bed, ejecting his fingers from your cunt and hooking each forearm around each leg, compressing them into the mattress, giving you the perfect perspective of the combination that was his lips and tongue simultaneously pleasuring your aching core. If this was going to be the result after pining for each other for around 12 hours only, you would never think about it twice. 

“I love being married,” you whined, another humorous hum escaping your husband’s lips, “tongue feels so good.”

“Mmmh,” he mumbled, half of his face muffled in your pussy, “you taste so good.”

“What was that?”

He took away his tongue for a brief moment, looking you deep in the eye before repeating his statement.

“You taste so good.”

He didn’t want to take much time away from making you, his wife, feel good, let alone waste his breath on 3 words. His tongue snaked across your inner thigh, the organ licking a gentle strip up each leg before descending back onto your gushing pussy. The smile on your face at his works was impossible to wipe off, your moans through the pearly whites getting louder and louder at the same time with your core, the accumulation of your slick and Chan’s oral fluids contributing to the squelching sound that was bringing you closer and closer to peak arousal. His lust was simply one of trance and dedication. It genuinely could not be explained enough how much he loved seeing you like this, knowing that he was the one that was doing so. Your lips contorted, unable to keep the smile as your bite down on the skin below your bottom lip, harsh enough to leave a line of marks before you were sitting up, hands leaving his hair and dominating his face, palms spread across either side before pressing a kiss to his lips. Your nose crinkled, easily identifying the taste of you on his tongue before giving him one last look, eyes completely open as you crawled backwards on your elbows, left index fingers curling in a come hither motion. The invitation was simply too divine to resist. Your husband turned into a predator, jumping on top of you like he had just caught his prey. His moves were delicate, making sure to not crush you underneath him. His lips were itching to be on yours again, and the feelings were returned, tongue automatically parting his lips and dipping inside his wanting mouth as his hands left your figure for a brief moment, slipping the thin material down his legs and over his feet, fingertips, like magnets to his wife’s skin, straight back onto you. Your own hands were now back on your husband's body, fingernails digging into the large mound of muscles that was his upper back as his fully erect length pressed against your heat. A moan slipped out of your mouth and straight into his, causing him to pull away.

“Fuck you really missed me, didn’t you?”

His smirk was fucking priceless. So annoying, but it would just be a flat out lie if you said you were not attracted to it in the slightest. Cocky did not look good on most people, but it 100% suited your husband. Your nails buried themselves deeper into his flesh at his statement, a poor attempt at humbling him in the slightest as another moan fell from your lips as he began slightly rocking back and forth, the tip of his pre-cum soaked tip hitting your extremely sensitive nub. You went to open your mouth, a failing endeavor of speaking a sentence when the only thing coming out being sounds of pleasure.

“Don’t tease me Mr. Bang,” you mumbled in between each groan, bucking your hips to create a larger friction between your two bodies. Chan was getting impatient himself, but god, did he love to tease you. Your husband had no trouble making you orgasm over and over, he just had displeasure in making you cum so quickly. Your body was sensitive solely to him, even after all these years, it didn’t take much to get you there. Therefore, teasing you made the process so much more enjoyable. Watching you squirm was something that he really enjoyed. 

“Hmm Mrs. Bang,” he hummed, lifting his hips off of yours, one hand now wrapped around the base of him, “you’re so cute when you’re all hot and bothered.”

Your eyes formed into a squint, annoyed at how easily he was pinning you down, “stop playing games and fuck me. Preferably today before they get home.”

“Oh fuck,” Chan chuckled, prodding at your pussy hole with his length, “you’re right, let me get to business.”

It was funny when previously mentioned that Chan left to tease and see you squirm, because once his length was comforted by the strength of your tight walls, your husband was a mess. He couldn't help it. Your pussy, after being with you for so many years, molded exactly to the shape and maneuvers that Chan needed. He tried to maintain a slow pace, allowing for your cunt to stretch perfectly around him, wanting you to feel every inch of him; but it simply was too irresistible to resist. Chan wrapped his hands around your ankles, lifting your limbs in the air and stretching them as far as they could go before kneeling on his knees as he began to flat out pound your busy. His pace was not as fast no, by the velocity of the thrusts was truly toe curling. Your jaw dropped to the floor if it could, the bedhead surely denting the walls at the arms as each time his hope made contact with your contact, a large noise resembling a slap occurred. Your husband was usually not as rough, but it’s not that you’re complaining at all. It was rare that he would just throw you around like this, usually if he was frustrated or that you had been away. So really, you should have seen this coming. Maybe it was what provoked you to reply to his lustful text in such a similar manner; whatever you have been doing it was right seeing as he was making your pussy cry with arousal. 

Chan’s teeth sunk into your left calf, a string of large huffs and puffs escaping from his chest as he put all his mighty effort into each thrust, your husband breathing heavy at the combination of his force and pleasure he got from fucking you like that. His eyes ogled however, at how easily your tits bounced back and forth.

“Fuck,” you shouted, “s-so rough.”

“You like that?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, keeping your legs in the air as your pulled him by the neck, foreheads accidentally smashing foreheads together with a significant force, “you’re fucking me like you want to put another kid in me.”

“Maybe I do,” he grunted, pressing a kiss to your lips in between, “maybe I should put another kid in you.”

God the way he talks, especially like that, turns you on so much. Your hands now travel back to the familiar spot of his back, pulling his chest against yours as he picked up his pace, thrusts much smoother with rhythm as your eyes fluttered shut, head hitting the back of the pillow ad your husband relentlessly fucked your pussy. A deep breath blew from your lips, an insufficient try to maintain your composure as your husband refused to set a forgiving speed.

“Fuck your pussy,” he growled, unable to finish his sentence.

“Yeah baby?”

“Mine,” he huffed, his own eyes fluttering shut as he pinned your upper limbs next to your head, head dipping down back to your breasts, a ferociously lick on your left nipple before he continued, “Fuck I’ll fuck another fucking child into that fucking pussy if you want me to.” 

Chan became a menace when he reached his peak horniness, and during this timeline, that was right now. Anyone who met or knew Chan, as a well-respected friend, colleague, or even a stranger, knew that was one of the most polite people that you could possibly have the pleasure of meeting. Not one to swear, always use his manners and respect other people’s time and values. However, it was only you who got to see the truly feral side of him, like this, cursing his head off. It was only at this point did he forget that facade of a well-mannered gentleman. Chan was certainly not polite or gentlemen like when he fucked you, and it was a guilty pleasure of yours. It always aroused you to hear him say ‘fuck’, mumble a ‘motherfucker’ or ‘shit’ under his breath, even just in normal dialgoue. So when he said it during sex, it truly was one of the hottest fucking things your had ever seen. 

“Do it,” you mumbled, unable to use your full voice, “put a kid in me.”

“Really?”

His head snapped up immediately, lips moving back to your own, pecking you one more time, but with his eyebrows raised in surprise, “Are you being serious?”

“Yes,” you smiled, fingertips spreading across your husband’s cheeks, “you have my permission.”

“Oh fuck,” he grumbled, “you really shouldn’t have said that.”

Chan’s hands snuggled under your back, scooping you and placing you up right on him, cock still inside of you as he sat up himself, keeping you close to his torso as he scooched the end of the bed. He let out a groan as he stood up, hands trailing to your hips as began to bounce you. A new level of sound escaped your lips at the new angle he was hitting inside of your pussy. It was smart to keep your arms enclosed around his neck, head buried into his chest as he still managed to keep the same pace. You really didn’t know how much more of this you could handle; the pressure in your body was building. The pit of your stomach was making its way to your final high, and your muscles were tightening in conjunction. The room’s scent was full of sweat, but also passion. Sweet sweet passion and sweet sweet love filled the four nostrils in the room, bringing you even closer to the edge. 

“Chan?”

“Y/n, you okay baby?”

“I’m gonna cum baby,” you whined, “I'm gonna cum so hard.”

“Oh me fucking too baby,” he fritted through his jaw breaking teeth clench, “I’m about to blow so fucking hard.”

“Yeah?”

“All in this pussy,” he whined, placing you back down on the bed, “my pussy.”

“Mhm, all yours.”

Your husband kept your back arching off the edge of the bed, making sure that when let go of himself, that nothing but even a drop would drip out of your hole. His hips became erratic; you could tell that your husband would not last much longer. Not that you were far off either, but you know that the release of his seed would tip you over the edge. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, hard, “Y/n I’m so sorry I’m gonna cum first.”

“It’s ok,” you whined, “I need your seed inside of me so fucking badly.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” you clenched, eyes dark with lust as he kept his gaze on you, “put a fucking kid in me.”

“I fucking love my fucking wife so much,” he spat, jaw falling agape as his load exploded, the ropes of your husband’s orgasm roping over and over inside of you, “I fucking love you so much.”

“Fuck Chan,” you screamed, your own orgasm washing over and sending you into a haze, “it feels so good inside of me.”

Your whine was so attractive to Chan that he leant down to kiss you one more time, before withdrawing his aching cock, falling to your side in a heavy breath. He was quick to get back into action, however, falling off the bed and grabbing your ankles again, lifting them off the floor and onto the bed, ensuring that not a lick of his load would fall out. A fat giggle escaped from your lips when you watched him do so.

“Fuck you were serious about that kid hey?”

He was already gone, annoyingly leaving you by himself. He was quick to come back however, returning with a glass of water and a banana from the kitchen bench, handing over to you without a second thought. Your lips turned into a smile automatically, practically chugging the water down to quench your thirst before peeling the banana open. Your husband took his spot next to you, lying on his side as he watched you with admiration. All of a sudden you felt self-conscious, hesitating before putting your lips anywhere near the fruit.

“I’m starting to think you got this fruit for a particular reason.”

“No,” he chuckled, “just eat it.”

You looked away from him as your lips ‘accidentally’ slipped down the banana, much past where necessary to take a bite. You could see your husband's jaw clenching out of the corner of your eye as your motion.

“What,” you mumbled, mouth full of food, “you were asking for it.”

“Fuck your lucky that your daughter is going to be home soon.”

#bang chan #bang chan fic #bang chan smut #bang chan scenario #bang chan imagine #bang chan x reader #stray kids fic #stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenario #stray kids x reader #ch4nb4ng

[honeykaes]

wandering eyes

pairing: itto x afab!reader II 2.3k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, humor, some praising and teasing, itto is a rebound, reader is pretty forward, doggystyle, semi-exhibitionism, impact play, piercing, size kink, pussyjob, thighjob, unedited

synopsis: after breaking up with your boyfriend, you decided to get a gym membership and start working on yourself. After a month it’s going okay, until you notice a strange guy that keeps staring at you when you're working out.

Self-care seemed to be the bane of your existence. After breaking up with your boyfriend, long-internal discussions with yourself and the person you want to be after you healed, filled up most of your thoughts. Scrolling hours online trying to find suggestions, some people went the gym route of self-care—making your body healthier for your mind. With a sigh, swiping your credit card to purchase a gym membership, you figured it couldn’t hurt; hopefully, something else would fill your mind that the situation they had left you in.

As the sliding doors open, sensing your presence and allowing you to walk in, you tightly clasp your bag and rolled-up yoga mat. It had been a month since you impulsively bought your gym membership and things were going as slowly as you expected. Still, it gave you time to work on something other than your thoughts falling down the endless spiral downward stairs of “what if’s” in your last relationship.

The smell of rubber and sweat emulated throughout the facility while the cool breeze of the A/C brushed past you. Your AirPods already played out whatever gym playlist you would be listening to for the couple hours you’d be here as you headed up the stairs and towards the equipment area. 

Finding an empty treadmill, you placed your bag and mat down and rested it against the machine. You leaned down, rummaging through the gym back to retrieve your hydro flask, yet before you pulled it out completely, you felt the heavy weight of someone watching you. Leaning your head up, your gaze met with ruby. The man with the ruby eyes’ lips parted in shock before whipping his face to the side. His tanned cheeks burned from the embarrassment of being caught so blatantly.

You think you have seen him a couple of times since you started working out here, his appearance keeping a lasting impression. His hair was long and white with some stripes of red fashioned in a low bun. His ears were decorated in various silver piercings, adorned with small gauges. Tattoos lined one of his arms—from what you could make out being far away, it was reminiscent of traditional Japanese depictions of demons.

Yet despite his intimidating expression, the man gnawed on his bottom lip as if he was a child caught doing something wrong by his mother. Your lips pull into a small smirk, chuckling softly at the exchange before you finally pull your hydro flask up and place it on an open area of the treadmill.

It was time to focus on the task at hand so you could head home.

You heaved as you finally reach the cooldown portion of your treadmill workout. The cool air is a blessing to you as heat radiated throughout your form. The machine beat in celebration as it finally halted to a standstill. With a sigh, you get off of it and reach for your yoga mat.

You were thankful for how the gym was laid out, an area open for people to do whatever right next to the cardio machines. You bend over to reach for your yoga mat when you feel the familiar wait of ruby eyes on you once more. You let out a soft sigh, the corners of your lips curving upwards. You could give the man’s wandering eyes a show, couldn’t you?

Finding a prime spot, you laid your yoga mat down and slid your hands down your legs until they stretched down to your feet—your ass held high and perfect for his viewing. You parted your legs wider letting the weight sink you down to the floor further until you were completely doing the splits. One good thing you can say was that your flexibility improved after working out and doing yoga for a month.

The man coughed, choking on water or his saliva as you finally reached the split, your own laughter echoing out as you finally leaned back to see his foolish expression. Trying to contain your snickers and amusement, you finally got up again and approached the man still at the weights. He whipped his head around and quickly grabbed the heavier bar he could, lifting it in crunches with ease, trying to create a facade he wasn’t just gawking at your show.

Even the closer you got to him, you could see his cheeks burning bright.

“So….are you going to give me a reason you were ogling me from afar or am I going to have to guess,” you teased, crossing your arms together. The man swiftly faced you, with a frown—offended by your words.

“H-Hey, hey, hey! Now wait! Ogling makes me sound like a pervert!” he replied with a scowl. You lifted your eyebrow up.

“Were you not checking out my ass?” you stated. The man quickly shut his mouth, putting his head down in shame, earning another chuckle from you.

“Y’know you’re lucky you're cute,” you hummed. The silver-haired man perked up in response, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You think I’m cute? I-I mean of course you do. I’m the ripest guy around here,” he raved. “The name is Itto, the one and oni after all!!” Itto was clearly trying to recover from earlier as you couldn’t help light-heartedly rolling your eyes at his facade of sudden confidence. Itto coughed, trying to figure out what to say next before clicking his tongue.

“...Look, I’ve just been noticing you the few times you come in during the week. Like I said I’m not a pervert!! I just…couldn’t find the proper words, to like, ask you to dinner or something yet, hmph,” Itto murmured. You couldn’t contain the laughter that emitted from you afterward seeing the pout drooping on Itto's lips.

“Oh my god! Haha…! You look like a kid, pouting like that!” you snorted. Itto’s pout furthered at your reaction before tensing up, feeling your fingers beginning to circle various shapes on his bicep. He sat, frozen, as you leaned into his ear and blew cool air in.

“Look…I’ve kinda had a shitty past month. Broke up with my boyfriend and the likes. You like me. I think you’re funny and easy on the eyes; plus, I’m on the pill, so….why don’t we sneak into the private showers for a more, intimate gym experience,” you cooed. 

“W-What!? I-I mean pssssh, yeah. I’m down…if you are at least! Let’s do that” Itto stammered out. You leaned away, pressing a finger to his lips as his eyes widened.

“Shh, stop shouting. You wouldn’t want us to get caught, right?”

Grabbing your stuff, you and Itto head to the private shower areas. You reached for your key, unlocking the unused shower with ease as Itto followed behind. Once he ended, you locked the door, sealing the two of you in the small bathroom. Itto timidly leaned his body against the tiled wall, clenching and unclenching his hands as if he wasn’t sure how to proceed forward. Flashing a smirk at him, you began to peel the tight layers of workout clothing from your body.

His greedy eyes continued flickering up and down, trying to soak up your undressing form and cement it into his memory—your legs, your arms, your chest, and ass anything he could witness. Your own gaze drifted to his shorts, noting the prominent tent already formed.

“Already this hard? Aww, you’re so cute,” you cooed. Itto’s eyebrows furrowed and that familiar pout pressed on his lips.

“Stop! I’m not cute! Hot, yeah of course. Handsome, you got it! But cute?! No!” he barked back, beginning to rip his own clothes off of him. As his clothes lay in a pile at his feet, you momentarily freeze noting just how muscular and ripped he was., and the curved monster between his legs. He was thick and long, a silver Prince Albert piercing adorned at his flushed tip. It twitched, rolling to the side desperate to get any attention. 

“Didn’t think I was packing like this huh?” Itto grinned, confidence fueling him once more. You struggled to find words as your eyes darted away trying to figure out a quick response. Sensing your change in behavior, Itto clicked his tongue walking closer to you. His hand brushed past your swollen nipples before gliding up to hold your chin.

“Wow, looks like the tides have turned, huh? Suddenly having second thoughts,” he chuckled. Your cheeks burned as a scowl overtook your features.

“No!” you barked back. Itto grin crept further on his face.

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

Large hands sprung you, capturing your waist as he pressed your back against his front. You could feel his heavy cock, hot as it brushed against your ass—pulsating more, it had finally gotten some traction. He grabbed ahold of his cock, pumping it a few times as he grunted in your ear before pushing his cock between your thighs. His length swiped passed your puffy folds, veins nudging against your burning clit as he continued to rut between your thighs. 

You squeeze them further causing Itto to grunt lowly once more, thrusting his hips faster. Precum smeared against your thighs and Itto reached a hand around, giving your clit a slight pinch before rubbing tight circles around it. A whine escaped your clit as Itto chuckled once more.

“Wow, look how pliable you are in my arms like this?” Itto groaned, tightly closing his eyes. The softness of your thighs and folds was beginning to get to him as his pace became sloppier and rougher. Clenching his jaw tightly, Itto pushed your upper body down, bending you down, and slipped his cock away from your thighs. He squeezed his member tightly and jerked it before pressing his thumb against your fold and pushing it slightly to the side to get a better look at your fluttering entrance. With a loud grunt, ropes of thick, white cum sputtered out landing right at your widened entrance. 

As cum dripped down your thighs, you couldn’t help but sigh. You were hoping he could get you off and you were so close. Watching his dripping cum, Itto groaned and shook his head.

“Fuck, I couldn’t stop myself. D-Don’t worry! I promise I’ll make you cum!” he chimed. Turned around you assumed he was already soft and was going to beg whoever to get his erection back but to your surprise, you could feel his thick member, still curved and sliding along your slit. 

“Uh-huh. Prove it,” you mocked, repeating his words from earlier. Itto’s hand rested on the globes of your ass, grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh trust me, I will,” he replied. Your breath caught in your throat feeling your stretching walls burning as Itto sank his cock inside of you. Your nails harpooned into your leg as he inched deeper inside of you. He sucked a sharp breath, struggling to sink further inside of you as you struggle to adjust.  Itto snaked his hand around, rubbing circles on your clit once more trying to ease the burn of being stretched out and help you relax your pelvis, so he could reach farther inside of you. Your body shook as his cool piercing brushed against your gummy walls.

“Fuck!” you groaned out, pressing your hand against your lower stomach. You felt so full already, you couldn’t believe he was still plunging further inside of you. With a firm thrust, Itto finally bottomed out as you yelped. You were sure his tip was nudging against your cervix.

You yelp once more as Itto slapped his palms down against your ass before he begins to thrust inside of you. His pace is so fast, easily moving your body to the powerful sways of his thrusts. You quickly brought your hands to clasp over your moan as Itto’s cock stroked against that sweet spot inside of you easily from how big he was. 

The sound of skin slapping against one another echoed throughout the small bathroom. His nails dug into the plush flesh of your ass, spreading the cheeks out wider so he could witness his cock disappearing inside of you. A white ring of cum had developed along this base from his previous endeavors, plunging the cum deeper inside of you. Your own slick glistened as it dripped onto the tile floor. 

You muffled your cries, legs shivering as you finally reached your high—pleasure enveloping every inch of your body. Itto whistled in amusement, squeezing your ass in praise.

“See! Look at you cumming on my cock like that! …You should do it again!” he teased. His pace grew faster as tears began pricking at your eyes. His fingers continue to toy with your clit, pulling and slapping the nub before going back to massage it. 

He leaned forward, hunching himself over your smaller form before grabbing onto your chest and squeezing tight before rocking his cock deep inside of you. You grab onto Itto’s pistoning hips before your eyes glaze over white—and pleasure overtakes you once more. As your entire body shivered singling your climax, Itto grunted again satisfied before slipping out of your slobbery core.

Jerking his cock a few times once more, a moan escaped his lips as cum shot from his tip once more, smearing itself along your ass this time.  He slapped his cock a few times against it, bucking his hips as he tried to get ahold of his body once more. 

With a satisfied sigh, Itto grinned at you and pressed his softening cock against your drooling folds once more. You hummed, trying to catch your breath before your legs finally gave out. Itto quickly caught you in shock.

“Are you okay!? Fuck! Sorry I was too rough, wasn’t I? Here you need to drink some water—” Itto began rambling but stopped seeing you flash him a lop-sided smile.

“Itto, give me your phone,” you tiredly ask. Puzzled, Itto silently followed your task—leaning over to grab his phone from his shorts and putting his passcode in. As he handed it to you, you quickly went into his contacts, putting your name and phone number in before handing it back to him.

“(Y/n)...huh. So that’s your name…” he whispered to himself as you chuckled once more.

“I think you more than deserved that dinner date, Itto.”

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #itto x reader #itto smut #itto scenarios #itto imagines #arataki x reader #itto x you

[cb97breathing]

BECAUSE I LOVE YOU - HAN JISUNG

Pairing: Han Jisung x Afab! Reader

Theme: Enemies to lovers, smut, oral, creampie. 18+ NO MINORS.

Word Count: 2.2K

A/N: Please do not repost or translate my work! Let me know if you wish to be on the tagged list.

You shouldn’t be upset at what you’re seeing, after all you’ve never once liked him. He always teased you, made your life miserable, was always picking a fight with you. So why now do you feel your heart in your stomach as you see him with a girl practically all over him. Jisung has always been the bane of your existence, ever since Chan introduced you to his friends, wanting you to fit it with them cause well, you never had any and were always keeping to yourself. Han constantly picked on you, with his cocky and condisending smirk. He always riled you up whenever he was around. Chan always said you both fought as if you were an old married couple, and the thought made you gag. But now, seeing him with a girl on his lap made your heart ache. 

You stared at the alcoholic beverage Chan made you, wishing you never let him convince you to even go to this party. When you looked back up you saw Han looking at you with his little infamous smirk. It made you shake in anger. You downed the drink Chan gave you and winced at the sting as it burned your throat. If he wanted to play games, you weren’t up for it. So you went to the kitchen to get another drink, wanting to distract yourself from the jealousy you were clearly feeling. Since when were you jealous, since when did you care if another girl was all over him? Since when did you wish it was you on his lap while he smirked up at you and whispered things in your ear? 

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing drinking all alone?” You looked up to see a man you didn’t know leaning against the kitchen counter smirking over at you. 

“Alone is how I prefer it to be honest.” You said quietly. Not liking the way he was eyeing you. He moved closer to you and ran his hand up your thigh, making you freeze. 

“We could do something together that is much more fun than drinking.” He grinned and you shuddered as you felt his hand go for your ass and squeeze.

“Get your fucking hands off of her.” You turned to see Jisung staring at the stranger in pure rage. You had never seen him angry, not like this. “She clearly isn’t interested.” The guy raised his brow and looked at him with a smirk. 

“Fuck off bro, this has nothing to do with you.” He growled as he walked over to Jisung. Compared to Jisung the man was much taller and jacked, but Jisung didn’t seem phased at all. 

“She has everything to do with me you fucking prick.” He hissed. 

“Jisung— it’s okay.” You whispered as he looked over to you. “I’m fine.” 

“Aw, scared I’ll get to fuck her before you do?” Your eyes widened as you saw Jisung’s eyes darken. He punched the man in the face hard and you squeaked. 

“Don’t you fucking talking about her like that you dick.” The man growled and punched Jisung right back making him fall to the ground. 

Your eyes widened as he got on top of Jisung and started wailing on him. 

“S-Stop!!” You cried out. “Don’t hurt him!” You tried to pull him off of Jisung but he just threw you off him making you collide with the counter. Thankfully Chan and Changbin rushed in and forced the man off of him and out of Chan’s apartment before he could do anything else. You rushed to Jisung’s side and helped him sit up. 

“Y-You idiot why did you do that?” You choked out as you looked at his bruised cheek and split lip. “Come on, I’m getting you out of here.” Jisung groaned as you helped him up and out of the apartment, yours was thankfully down the hall so you didn’t have to go far. When you got inside you sat him on the couch. “Stay right there.” You said quietly. 

“If I had known I’d have to be hurt to finally get invited into your apartment I would have done so much earlier.” He smirked over at you, making you scoff in response. You walked into your bathroom to get a cloth and some alcohol to clean his lip with and walked back in. You sat down next to him and poured some alcohol on a q-tip. 

“Maybe if you weren’t such an ass to me all the time you wouldn’t have had to.” You muttered as you gently placed it on his lip. He hissed and flinched away. “Stay still.” You ordered softly. “It’s going to get infected if I don’t clean this up.”  He sighed and did as he was told, flinching and wincing as you gently cleaned it. You didn’t see the gentle loving gaze coming from him as you focused on cleaning his lip. “All done.” You whispered. “I’m going to get you some ice for your cheek.” You gathered the stuff you brought and threw out the stuff you used, once you put everything back you put some ice in a ziplock bag and brought it over to him. You sat back down and gently place it on his cheek. He hissed again and gently placed his hand over yours that held the ice pack to his cheek. You tried to ignore your fluttering heart as it reacted to the contact. “Sorry.” You whispered. 

“Thank you.” He said quietly. You looked up at him and when you saw how he was staring at you, you forgot how to breathe. You both stayed there, staring at each other hands still touching. Your eyes fluttered to his lips and then back to his eyes. 

“W-Why did you do that Jisung?” You asked quietly. “Do you know how scared I was?” He let go of your hand and used the same one to caress your cheek. Your eyes fluttered closed at the contact. 

“Do you really not know?” He asked quietly. “—Y/n, I don’t know how you can be so oblivious.” You’re eyes opened and you stared at him in confusion. 

“What are you talking abou—“ You’re cut off by his lips being pressed to yours. Your hand let the bag of ice slip from your fingers as he kissed you deeply. Your heart felt like it was going to rupture out of your chest as he pushed you down on the couch, hovering over you. Your fingers gripped his shirt tightly and pulled him down, wanting him to be closer as you melted into him and kissed back just as passionately. He kissed you until he was gasping for air as he pulled away and pressed his forehead to yours. 

“Because I love you, you idiot.” He panted out. “I’ve always loved you.” His nose brushed against yours as you started at him wide eyed. Your cheeks flushed a deep red as you panted softly. “And I know you love me too.” He smirked. You huffed and tried to push him off of you. 

“Keep dreaming you ass ho—“ Once again he pressed his lips to yours, cutting you off with a feverish and hungry kiss. You whimpered as you tangled your fingers in his hair and wrapped your legs around his waist. Han rocked his hips into you making you moan softly in response. You kissed each other desperately as you continued to rock against each other in need. You felt him push your skirt up as he nipped at your lips. He panted softly as he pushed his jeans and boxers down. He ripped your panties off in seconds making you gasp softly. 

“Need you, need you now Y/n.” He whimpered as he brushed the tip of his cock against your core. “Already so wet for me.” He grinned down at you and you whimpered as you felt him press his tip into your entrance. “Gonna make you mine.” He thrusted into you making you cry out and arch off the couch. Jisung moaned loudly as he felt your warm wet walls close in around him. “Perfect, so perfect.” 

“J-Ji.” You whined softly. He thrusted deeply into you and nipped at your neck. His hand slipped between you and began to rub your clit wildly. You cried out loudly and tangled your fingers in his hair. “Please don’t stop.”  

“Keep moaning my name love, God I love when you say my name.” He nipped at sucked on your neck until there was a mark left. “Want everyone to know you’re mine. That you’re finally mine.” You whined loudly as you felt him hit deep into you. Your toes curled and you clung to him tightly. “God you sound so fucking beautiful. You’re so fucking perfect.” 

You could feel yourself getting close, his words, along with his fingers and cock sending you close to the edge. You sobbed out his name as you arched off the couch, feeling your walls begin to clench. 

“That’s it beautiful. Let go for me.” Your eyes rolled back and you finally hit your peak, crying out his name loudly. He pulled out of you and kissed down your neck, he settled between your legs and groaned at the sight of your core. He dove in and made you cry loudly as you tangled your fingers in his hair. Your legs shook as his tongue licked and explored your drenched core. “You taste fucking divine. God I could eat you all night.” You shuddered and whined loudly in response. “You’d like that huh? Me eating out your pussy til you beg me to stop?”

“Want your mouth, want your cock over and over.” You whined and rocked into his mouth. He growled and buried his face into your core, licking and sucking at your clit like a man starved. Your moans and cries fueling him to keep going, he was determined to make you cum from just his tongue. Your eyes rolled back and you rocked against his tongue desperately, the sight almost making him cum instantly. He let you ride his tongue watching you in awe. You moaned his name out desperately and he knew you were close. Your legs began to tremble violently and he sucked at your clit desperately as you screamed out as your second orgasm hit you. 

He groaned as he licked up your juices and kissed your thighs. He picked you up bridal style as he kicked off his pants and boxers. He carried you to your bedroom and gently laid you down on the bed. 

“Strip love, let me see all of you.” He pleaded softly. He ripped off his shirt and you bit your lip as you took in his toned upper body. His cock was still rock hard and you quickly rid yourself of all of your clothes. He crawled over you and kissed you deeply. “So fucking beautiful.” He whispered softly. He spread your legs wide and lined his cock at your entrance again. “Wanna fill this beautiful pussy up with my cum, can I love?” 

“Yes, please.” You begged softly. “Fill me up.” He growled softly and thrusted into you hard making you cry out. “F-Fuck Jisung!” He laid gently on top of you, wanting to feel every bit of you. He nuzzled his face in your neck as one of his hands linked with yours above your head. The other gripped your hip and squeezed as he rocked into you wildly. “Y-Yes yes yes please.” You whimpered out. 

“I love you.” He whimpered into your neck as he rocked into you. “Fuck Y/n I love you so fucking much.” Your heart leaped out of your chest and you turned your head to kiss him deeply.

“I love you.” You whimpered into his lips. He smiled into your lips and nipped at them gently. You rolled him over and settled on top of him kissing him hungrily. Your hips rocked desperately as you rode him, making him whimper and moan beneath you. 

“Oh my god.” He whined at the sight of you riding him, his hands ran up your stomach and he squeezed your breasts gently as he rocked up into you. Your eyes rolled back as you felt him thrust wildly into you. You whined loudly and clung to him as he pulled you close. You kissed him passionately and rocked your hips to meet his thrusts. You could feel yourself getting close as you whined loudly into his lips. You buried your face in his neck as you mewled loudly. 

“G-Gonna cum.. fuck. Jisung please.” You whined loudly. He groaned and rocked into you desperately, feeling his release also coming. He throbbed inside you as he felt you begin to clench. 

“Cum with me love.” He moaned out and you let out a soft cry as you clenched around him. You felt him hit his peak inside you, filling you with his hot seed. You shuddered violently and when limp in his arms. He held you close to him as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. You both stayed there, tangled in each other, panting softly as you tried to calm your trembling body. “You did so well.” He said softly as he ran his fingers through your hair. You whimpered and nuzzled your face in his neck. “I can’t wait to show everyone how you’re finally mine.” 

“Yours.” You whispered. “I like the sound of that.” You smiled and kissed his neck gently. 

“Good, cause you are and I will never let you go.” He kissed you softly. “Never.”

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #han jisung fanfic #han jisung smut #bang chan fanfic #bang chan smut #seo changbin fanfic #seo changbin smut #kim seungmin fanfic #kim seungmin smut #lee know fanfic #lee know smut #hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin fanfic #yang jeongin smut #yang jeongin fanfic #lee felix fanfic #lee felix smut

[soullumii]

masked up | joel miller x f!reader

pairing: joel miller x fem!afab!reader

summary: joel fucks you while wearing his gas mask

warnings/tags: 18+ content MDNI, very self indulgent smut (unprotected piv oops, mask kink 🤭, vaginal fingering, riding joel cowgirl because that is for sure his fav position, little bit of a bulge kink, oral [m receiving]) descriptions of blood and violence, established relationship (married!! whoop whoop!!), making joel call you “my wife” because i’m weak for that shit, soft!joel, protective!joel, this got sappy, pet names galore as usual, NO USE OF Y/N

word count: 4.2k

a/n: i can’t explain how i feel about joel wearing a gas mask. i swear every time he put it on while i was playing tlou pt 1 i moaned /hj. just HEAR ME OUT PLEEK. JUST WATCH THIS (it’s a tiktok edit) OK YOULL UNDERSTAND.

You don’t mean for the mask to become a thing.

But it does. It becomes a Thing™.

It all starts and ends with Joel, like good and bad things usually do. And this thing is no exception.

But it all begins with something bad.

Coming across spores nowadays is few and far between for you. You're not usually on patrol much, your job being to tend to the crops in the greenhouse and feed the livestock. 

Today, though, you’re not so lucky. With Tommy out sick, you’re filling in for him. Thankfully, though, you’re paired with Joel, your very lovely and very experienced in the art of dealing with infected, husband. So you know if you come across spores, your husband will have your back. 

Spores are annoying, but they're manageable with gas masks. When you and Joel enter an abandoned office building on a new patrol route and you catch sight of the little specks floating through the air, you immediately put yours on, Joel doing just the same. 

The floaty fungal fuckers themselves aren't scary, especially not when you have the gas masks to keep you safe. It's just what waits in the shadows that scares you, because where there are spores, there's infected. Lots of them. 

And usually interspersed in that conglomerate of stalkers and clickers are the big, meaty ones. The kind that have been sitting and festering for years. The kind that could literally rip you into pieces, regardless if you have a gas mask on or not. Bloaters, yeah, those big shits. The fucking bane of your existence.

Unfortunately, the one lazing around in this abandoned office building must somehow pick up on your undying hate for them because within minutes of you and Joel looting the place for all it’s worth, it comes clambering out of what used to be a conference room.

It's a big one. Noticeably disgusting, outrageously hideous, growling and slobbering as it slings mycotoxin at you. It's not very fast, and yet it's so fucking terrifying as it lumbers after you, because you know exactly what it’s capable of. 

You're shooting at it with whatever arrows you have left in your backpack (though they’re mostly just bouncing off it’s thick fungal exterior), and Joel's crunching out shot after shot with his shotgun, but neither of you are hardly making a dent.

God, you wish Joel had brought the flamethrower he keeps in his storage room. You’d make a Molotov cocktail, but with the other infected hot on your heels, there's no time. 

A stalker comes crawling out of the shadows behind you, knocking over an office chair in the process, and you whip around to lodge an arrow right between its eyes. Two more come swinging out of nowhere, and you're so focused on trying to get rid of them so that they can't reach you—can't reach Joel—that you don't realize you've left your back unattended until a large, gross excuse for a hand lands hard on your shoulder, lugging you backwards with inhuman strength. 

Joel shouts your name with increased panic, and you hear his gun fire off more rounds into the bloater's back, but it doesn't care, it's hands finding your head and jaw, gripping you so tight you think it might shatter your mandible.

"Joel!" You scream, eyes squeezing shut as the pain in your jaw multiplies.

This motherfucker is about to rip you clean in half—

You think this is it, I'm about to die in front of my husband by being torn from the jaw down, but, thankfully, death never comes. Instead, the bloater releases you with a pained roar as the sound of squelching fills your ears. You manage to back away enough to watch Joel tug the bloater off of you by the handle of his machete, the blade lodged in its chest. 

He pulls the machete out only to swing it down in an arc straight into its head, repeatedly. Blood splatters all over him as he bludgeons the wretched thing. Over his veiny arms, his black mask. It sinks into the fabric of his flannel.

And funnily enough, this is when it becomes a thing.

The bloater crumples to the floor with a gurgling groan as it finally dies, and Joel turns to you, chest heaving and eyes wide and panicked. They soften, relieved when he catches sight of you physically intact, though, mentally a bit checked out.

Whether that’s because you’re in shock or because your brain is rewiring as it files this new image of Joel away, who knows? Maybe it's a little bit of both. 

“Are you okay?" Joel asks, sheathing his machete to look you over. His hands catch your jaw gently, a welcome contrast to the bloater. He turns it this way and that, checking for any damage or possible bites.

A traitorous thrumming starts up between your thighs as he stares you down through the lenses of his mask. 

"I'm fine, Joel," you say, breathlessly. "Thanks."

“Thank god,” he squeezes your arm lovingly, grateful to see you in one piece. “Let’s get outta here.”

- - -

"Do you like the masks?" You ask him eventually, when you're back outside, the setting sun warming you pleasantly as the tall borders of Jackson rise in the distance.

You both took the masks off the minute you escaped the spores, but a part of you secretly hoped Joel would keep his on.

Joel scratches at his graying beard. "They keep us safe. Don't feel much for 'em at all really." He glances sidelong at you, a curious quirk to his lips. "Why?"

You shrug, "No reason."

Just trying to figure out if you'd wear it during sex if I asked you to, that's all.

“Alright, somethin's up," Joel says. "You've got the look.” 

“What look?” 

“The sex look.” 

You halt in your hike, turning to narrow your eyes at him. “What the hell are you talking about?” 

Joel fails to stifle a chuckle. “You’re horny. That’s the face you make when you want to have sex. Like you wanna eat me alive.” 

Shit. He’s found you out.

“How would you know?”

He blinks. “Honey, I’m married to ya. Of course I’m gonna know.”

Valid. Still-

"I’m not horny," you try to defend, though you've never been good at lying, and based on the self satisfied smile Joel wears, you know he sees right through you. "We almost died, Joel. Maybe this is my 'loving every minute of my life' look."

"I know that look. This ain't it."

Jesus Christ.

You sigh heavily. “Okay, yes. Maybe I am a little horny.” 

"Because…what? We almost died? That gets you goin'?" 

"No," you grit. You can’t even look at him when you say it. “It’s the mask.”

His brows knit. “The...gas mask?”

You nod tightly. 

“I don’t think I’m followin’,” Joel says. 

Is he seriously asking you to spell it out for him?

You take a deep, steadying breath. You don’t quite know how to phrase this, so you just go for it. “Watching you save my life in the gas mask just sort of woke something up in me. It was hot.” 

“Oh.”

Yup. He definitely thinks you’re crazy.

“So, what, you want me to fuck you while wearin' the mask or somethin’?”

Heat pools heavy and thick between your thighs at his words, your heart hammering behind your ribs. “Something like that, yeah.” 

Joel straightens. “...Okay. I can do that.” 

Your head whips up. “Wait, seriously?”

“You’re my wife. If you asked me to fuck you with a damn jester’s hat on I’d do it.” 

You laugh. “Okay, let’s not go that far.”

“I’d really do it for you.”

“It sounds like you actually want to wear it.”

He chuckles, and you two resume walking back to Jackson. “Alright, so, gas mask on tonight,” he says. “Any other requests?” 

“Since you’re asking…maybe you could wear a cowboy hat sometime…”

- - -

"Jesus, you're really lovin' this," Joel muses.

You're laid out beneath him in your shared bed, his long calloused fingers deep in your cunt, his thumb circling slowly over your clit, drawing out your pleasure, stretching it like taffy. Your jeans are still on, unbuttoned and unzipped, and your soiled underwear is pulled to the side as Joel’s hands unwind you. 

You're grasping onto his muscled forearm for dear life, moans leaking out of you in a steady stream as he fucks his fingers into you, curling up to stroke that spot that has you clenching down hard on his digits as the burning starts in your toes, climbing up your thighs. 

He looks so fucking good with that mask situated over his handsome face, his peppered hair flipping out over the straps that keep it snug on him. His eyes are dark through the lenses as they watch you unravel before him, almost black from how dilated his pupils are.

His jeans are still on, his erection straining hard against his zipper. The flannel he wore earlier is gone, giving you the perfect view of his toned chest and the dark hair that dusts it. There's still some blood stains on his mask. Every time you catch sight of them, your body ignites with something carnal and hungry.

"’Cause, you look hot," you huff between moans. 

Joel laughs, deep and rumbling, and the mask warbles it a bit, adding a distortion to his voice that for some reason makes everything happening so much hotter. “I still don’t really get it, but if it’s makin’ you this wet, I don’t care.”

You moan particularly loud at the sound of his voice muffled through the mask and cant your hips against his hand, the combination of his thumb circling your clit and his fingers fucking up into you has you dangling dangerously close to the edge.

“I-I’m close, Joel.”

His brows furrow behind his mask, and he quirks his fingers inside you even more, and you jolt against his hand. 

“C’mon then, baby. Come for me. Show me how much this pretty pussy loves this mask.”

Fucking shit. When you first met Joel, he hardly spoke a single word, and even when you got him to open up more, he was thoughtful with what he said, chose his words carefully. Unless he was angry, then he could be a bit of an ass.

In bed though? Shit, if you can get him to shut up it’s a damn miracle.

“F-fuck, Joel,” you whine, legs stiffening as your orgasm swells inside you, a match striking, lighting up your viscera as pleasure fast-releases inside your veins. 

“There you go baby, that’s it,” Joel purrs. “So pretty when you come.”

You inhale shakily as the last few shocks fizzle through you, your clit throbbing as you come down from your high.

“Fuck…” you huff, trying to catch your breath.

He strokes your thigh lovingly, and if you could see him behind the mask you’d assume he’s probably wearing that soft smile that he gets sometimes that melts you into a puddle of mushy gushy feelings.

Joel leans back on his knees. “Now it’s time to deliver on that promise,” he says, and your skin tingles at the sound of his zipper. 

“Wait,” you tell him, and he stops, looking at you in concern.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

“No I just…I wanna show you how much this means to me.”

“Me wearin’ this mask? It’s not a big deal-“

You sit up and plant your hands on his chest, pushing him down until his back hits the mattress, effectively shutting him up.

You swing your leg over him, situating yourself right on his lap and peel off your tank, delighting in the way his eyes widen and his hands come down to settle warmly on your thighs. 

The muscles in his arms shift as he squeezes your flesh. The drag of the crotch of his jeans against yours has you biting your lip, a zing of pleasure shooting through you.

Joel’s eyes have darkened behind his mask, his pupils swallowing his irises whole besides the thin circle of hazel remaining at the edges as he watches you.

“I’ve never hated jeans more than I do right now,” he says lowly, his gaze dropping to the rapid rise and fall of your chest.

His strong hands slide up from your thighs to your hips to your waist, his dry, calloused skin causing goosebumps to rise in their wake. Finally, his palms cup your breasts, unrestrained by a bra because they’re too hard to come by in this day and age. 

He squeezes gently, and your nipples tighten beneath his palms. And then he rolls one between his thumb and forefinger, and your back arches, pressing you further into him. Your hips grind down automatically, and Joel releases a hazy moan. 

“Maybe,” you gasp when you roll your hips again, reveling in the delicious friction against your clit. “You should take them off.”

“Yours first.”

You don’t press him on it. You want your jeans off. So you lift yourself off of him and the bed to tug at your zipper, and Joel watches raptly as you pull your skinny jeans down your thighs, kicking them off your ankles.

And then you’re only in your underwear, and you throw your legs astride him again, the cloth of your underwear catching deliciously on the tent in his jeans. Joel’s hands find your body immediately, like a sweet tooth to a chocolate bar. His fingers dig into your flesh, and he grips your thighs, pulling them apart to set you on him fully. A shudder wracks your spine at the feeling of him pressed against your throbbing core.

“Goddamn,” he growls, eyes roving over you hungrily. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

You grind down on the hard outline of his cock, and Joel can’t help his reflexive thrust into you, and you sigh. 

“I need you in me, Joel,” you whisper, leaning forward to plant your hands on his broad chest, your fingers messing with the hair dusting his sternum. “Need your cock filling me up.”

“Christ,” he swears, eyes falling shut as he bucks again. “Need’a be in you, sweetheart.”

His hands find your hips and then your ass, squeezing the muscle cultivated there from twenty years of surviving in an apocalyptic world. 

His fingers dip beneath the waistband of your panties, warm and confident. He lightly rakes his fingernails over your skin, running his calloused fingertips reverently over the stretch marks on your hips. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he whispers through the mask. “Wish I could kiss you.” 

You shiver and your arms loop around his neck. His back is scarred beneath your hands, and you rub gently into the muscle of his traps, causing Joel to release a groan. 

His hand gravitates from your hips to the apex of your thighs, and your breath catches in your throat at the warmth radiating from his fingers when he positions them just below where you want him most.

He circles your clit again, smooth pleasure seeping through your nerve endings and your head falls back in a relaxed moan. You grind against the hard outline of his cock and the pads of his fingers against your clit, each slow drag of your hips causing pleasure to fizzle through you, like a flavored tab in a glass of water.

Your hands travel down his chest and stomach, outlining the thick, jagged scar there. Over his dark happy trail that starts just above his belly button and leads down to what your body is desperately craving. A little treasure map. 

You deftly undo the button and zipper and Joel makes a wrecked noise in the back of his throat when your hand brushes the hard outline of him through his briefs. 

“Wanna show you how much I like you in the mask,” you purr as you palm him. “How hot it gets me.” 

“Fuck,” his head falls back when you tug him out of his briefs, stroking his thick length to full mast. “Please, baby.”

You inch yourself down his legs so that you’re face to face with his weeping cock. Joel’s eyes widen and his hand comes up to gently stroke your hair appreciatively, tucking a lock of it behind your ear. He looks at you with adoration, and your heart swells in your chest.

“I love you, y’know that?” He says, softly. 

You can’t help but get a bit misty-eyed, always a fan of Joel when he gets soft like this. “I love you, too.” 

He smiles, and glances down at his dick, maneuvering it so that the head skates across your lips, leaving a trail of precum. His heated eyes find yours again. “Go on and show me then.”

“Yes sir.”

You keep eye contact as you lean forward to give his cock little kitten licks, and his head drops against the pillow with a groan, eyes lidded. “Shit, you can’t be lookin’ at me like that.”

You just smirk, and lick a long stripe up a prominent vein and kiss the tip of his cock sweetly before slowly taking him into your mouth. You take in as much as you can (which isn’t much, he’s pretty fucking big), and your hands find whatever you can’t fit.

You start sucking him in earnest, pressing the flat of your tongue against the ridge of his cock, delighting in the way the hand that had softly petted your hair before is now gripping it tight when you tongue that sensitive spot that always gets him reeling.

“That’s it, honey,” he groans, his hips twitching with tiny little thrusts as he tries to hold himself back. “Just like that.”

You moan against his cock, which has him bucking up reflexively, shoving his dick further into your warm mouth. Your throat spasms around the head of his cock when it hits the back of it, gagging lightly and tears forming at the edges of your eyes.

“Shit, I'm sorry, sweetheart,” he says, wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumb.

You shake your head slightly in reassurance, moaning around his cock again, and he releases a heavy breath, eyes fluttering shut once more as you continue to suck and bob and lick, effectively ruining him.

“Okay, okay, baby,” he says after a little while, lightly tugging on your hair to try and get you to stop. “I’m gonna come if you keep doin’ that.” 

You release his cock with an audible pop and send him a pout, “But that’s the whole point.” 

He chuckles a bit, sliding the mask off for a second so he can pull you up to kiss you softly, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip. You moan gratefully into his mouth when he tilts his head to deepen it, opening up greedily. As attractive as you find the mask, you certainly do miss being able to kiss him. You sigh happily when he pulls back to mouth at your jaw and throat, sucking and nipping his way down. 

“I wanna be in you when I come,” he murmurs against your skin, voice rough and gruff and you don’t think you’ll ever tire of it. “How’s that sound?”

You moan softly when he bites down on your throat, his beard and mustache tickling your skin. “Sounds…sounds good.”

He gives you another kiss before tugging his mask back down over his head, and your skin ignites, pussy fluttering.

Joel laughs. “I can literally see the cogs in your brain turnin’ when I put this on. You really do like it, huh?”

You shrug with a guilty smile. “The heart wants what it wants.”

And what it wants is him. Real bad.

So you drift a hand down to pull your panties to the side and shift your hips to position yourself over him, the head of his cock catching on your entrance. You sink slowly down, his length filling you.

The two of you moan in tandem.

“There we go,” he sighs.

“Mm, so big, Joel…” you whimper, and his dick jumps inside you.

You both just hang there for a moment, suspended in time as you get used to the feeling of each other. You’ve done this so many times, know each others bodies inside and out, yet it’s still a brand new experience every time.

You always have to adjust to his thickness. 

You break the spell with an experimental roll of your hips, and Joel’s hands clamp down on your hips with a vice grip.

“Christ—“ he swears. “You’re so good, so good for me.”

He’s filling you so fully, so deeply right now, you’re practically speared on him, and each roll of your hips has your clit brushing against his pelvic bone, amplifying that white hot pressure building inside you. 

When you and Joel first started getting intimate together, he was quiet in the bedroom. Probably a bit nervous around you—he was the one that fell first, after all.

But now after years together, he lets it all out.

Grunts and moans leak out of his gritted teeth as you fuck yourself on top of him. He’s dousing you in praises, telling you what a good girl you are. How perfect you are. How lucky he is to call you his wife. 

It’s all so very adorable and very sexy and you just love him so fucking much. 

Joel plants his feet down behind you, just to get some leverage so he can thrust his hips up into you at a steady pace. Your hands find purchase on his chest, keeping you upright while he fucks you.

His large palm slides around the front of your stomach, pressing down, and you can feel the way his cock moves inside you as he does it.

“You see that, baby?” 

You haven’t really looked down, so focused on the way he looks in the mask, how his breaths are coming out heavier and rougher through it. The way he sounds wrecked. But now that he’s asking, you do. 

You look down, only to see a slight bulge in your stomach with each thrust of his hips. 

A pleasant shudder runs through you. “Oh fuck.”

“Love seein’ the way I fuck you,” he rasps.

You watch his cock disappear and reappear with a slack jaw, eyes glazed as his hands stray to your thighs, squeezing and kneading the flesh.

You’re losing strength in your arms, your nails scraping through his chest hair as you try and remain upright, but the effort of matching his thrusts with your own along with the steady ecstasy filling your marrow is enough to have you collapsing against his chest, boneless.

And now Joel can really take the reins. His big hands grip your ass, holding you still as he pounds into you, your cheek smushing against his pecs with each heavy thrust, your clit rubbing against his sweat-slicked skin.

“F-fuck, Joel. Oh my god—“

“Yeah, yeah,” he grunts. “Atta girl.” 

Within moments you’re already there, eyes squeezing shut, brows pulled together in ecstasy as your climax crashes over you in rolling waves. It ebbs and flows within you as you listen to the heated pants modulating through Joel’s mask, watching his eyes gloss over as he chases his own release. 

It’s so fucking good. So right. Your husband never fails to give you exactly what you want.

His thrusts grow sloppier as he follows soon behind you, the fluttering walls of your cunt pulling him over faster.

“I’m comin’,” he grits. And then he’s grinding his cock into your pussy, holding you still against him as he paints your insides with thick ropes of cum, releasing a long, drawn out, wrecked moan of your name.

You lay pliant on his chest, practically drooling on him as you both come down and his cock softens inside you, slick and cum running down the inside of your thighs. His heart pounds under your ear, a steady reminder that he’s alive and here and that you, thank fuck, didn’t die earlier today.

“Thanks,” you mumble against his perspirant skin.

He tugs the mask off, his hair sticking to his sweaty temple. “‘Course, darlin’. Though as hot as that was, I dunno about having sex wearin’ that again. I think I was startin’ to get light headed from the lack of air.”

You giggle, “I’m sorry.”

“No, no. I liked it. But now anytime we have to wear them again I’m just gonna be thinkin’ about this. Gonna get a damn hard-on when I’m on patrol.”

You smirk, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips. He opens up beneath you immediately, moaning softly into your mouth. 

“Maybe that was my goal all along,” you mumble, smiling into the kiss.

He pulls back with a quirked brow and crooked grin. “You are into some sick kinds of torture.”

“I mean, if it gets you coming home to me quicker…”

“Oh I’ll be comin’, alright.”

Your face scrunches. “God, you’re sick. Why did I even marry you?”

His eyes melt, one hand squeezing your ass cheek, the other stroking your jaw. “Because you love me.”

That causes tears to well in your eyes again, because despite everything, despite all the fucked up things about this world, you do love him. You’re capable of loving him. And you’re grateful that, even with the terrible way life has treated him, he’s capable of loving you too.

“Yeah, I do,” you say.

He kisses you again, sweet and passionate and filled with all the things he never knows how to say. “I love you, too.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #tlou #game joel miller #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal #hbo joel miller

[yuyusboyfriend]

WATER˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.

500 follower special!

pairing: bestfriend's brother!wooyoung x ftm reader [gn reader coming soon!]

wordcount: 6,7k

content: Your best friend's twin has been the bane of your existence for the last 10 years. That was, until, he decided to visit your dreams.

warnings: nsfw, drinking, weed - both joints and a bong, drinking games, cunnilingus, pool sex, sex without a condom (dont!) afab ftm reader, use of words like cunt, clit etc. lmk if I'm missing anything!

soundtrack: water + truth or dare - tyla, Water - Ten

a/n: Thank you so much for 500 followers😭😭 I hope this fic makes up for all of my breaks between fics I made this as long as I could bc I really wanted to do smth special <333 also shoutout to @zh0nggucc1 for being my bsf 🙏❤️ one more note, this is proofread but I always manage to make a 1000 mistakes so I apologise for any!! Happy reading!

Masterlist!˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

"Finally you're here! Took you long enough" your best friend shouts over the music, holding out a shot glass filled with a clear liquid, "Gotta do a shot before I let you in, Jongho's orders" she smirks as she salutes.

"Really? At-," you quickly glance at your phone," 5 pm? I thought drinking would start later?" you look over the girl's shoulder to see Jongho and Mingi already holding clear cups with some sort of concoction in them.

"Look I'm not arguing with Jongho, he'll throw me in the pool and I haven't changed into my swimsuit yet, so! Take the damn shot will you, pretty please?" she looked at you with big round eyes as if that would persuade your decision.

"I'll do it just stop looking at me like that, it's kind of scary…" you teased, grabbing the shot and throwing it back, hissing slightly at the burn.

"Atta boy! Now go say hi while I go get changed." she ran off before you could argue. As you stepped inside you were greeted by your two friends that you had just seen, Mingi throwing his arm over your shoulder pulling you close to him and offering you his cup. You took a sip out of curiosity about what they had been drinking, not surprised when it tasted of all the soju flavours mixed with a dash of some juice they'd found in the back of the cupboard.

"Mmm! That is awful! Best one yet Mingi I mean seriously they should get you making poison," you and Jongho laughed as Mingi shoved your shoulder and pouted.

You felt eyes on you from somewhere as you looked around the room, your vision landing on the one person you'd hoped you wouldn't have to see until at least 10 shots in. Wooyoung.

Wooyoung was the biggest pain in your ass, and what made it even worse was that he was your best friend's brother. You had been best friends with Vee since the rotten age of 12 years old. Since your first day at your new school, you had practically been attached at the hip, never being away from each other for more than a couple of days — the problem there was that her twin brother Wooyoung was also attached to your hip, and somehow knew how to get on your every last nerve. He never did anything inherently bad to you but you just found him irritating nonetheless, even as the years passed, the smirk on his face every time he said or did something that knew would rile you up irked you.

"Your little boyfriend is watching you again~" Mingi sang into your ear, obviously already tipsy because there was no way in hell you'd ever be with Wooyoung. Was he attractive? Objectively, you guessed so. Had he given you butterflies once or twice when he held your hips to pass you as you helped his mom with the dishes? Maybe? But that was just a natural reaction, it didn't mean anything. Did the clothes that he gave you after you came out smell like him and make you feel funny? … He uses a nice cologne, that's all— The point is he wouldn't date you with the way he acted and you wouldn't either. So it was fine. Totally. Fine.

You elbowed Mingi in the side causing him to double over dramatically and wail, making Jongho laugh even more. You laughed along but couldn't shake the feeling that Wooyoung was still staring at you, so you excused yourself from the boys to go see Hongjoong in the kitchen.

"Vee not with you?" He asked as he spotted you rounding the island to greet him.

"She's upstairs getting changed, Praying she won't be much longer, need her to swat Wooyoung away." Hongjoong laughed as he shook his head at your misery.

"Surely he's not that bad y/n, he's cool when he's with us, a yapper at most," you stared at him with disbelief.

"All of you. Traitors!" You sighed as Hongjoong began to laugh more.

"Who's a traitor?" Your muscles stiffened as you felt a familiar pair of hands on your sides, causing you to roll your eyes and ignore the dip in your stomach. One thing Wooyoung never seemed to understand was personal space, 'what's yours is mine' as he would say.

"We all think you're just the best Wooyoung but y/n doesn't agree," Hongjoong exclaims to the boy behind you. You shake your head at Hongjoong's words, they might be true but it was still rough he put you on the spot. Wooyoung's thumb massaged the flesh at your side as he placed his head on your shoulder.

"Impossible, y/n loves me, don't you?" He smirked as you looked down at him. That fucking smirk.

"yeah, about as much as the rock in my shoe right now," you huffed as you shrugged him off. "I'm getting in the pool, I'll see you lot there, yeah?" you announced, walking through the back door before hearing Vee's voice behind you.

"Wait for me!" She exclaimed slipping by her brother and joining your side, a cute and flowy bathing suit adorning her body as Hongjoong watched her flaunt past. As you got to the pool Vee turned to you, "What was happening with you and Woo back there?" you shook your head, already sick of hearing his name in such as short amount of time.

"Nothing was happening! He's just weird and clingy!" Vee looked at you with confusion, being able to read your thoughts and know them better than you do at this point.

"Then why are you being so defensive? He doesn't usually piss you off this bad, what happened?" She said in a soft tone, the tone that made you feel safe despite feeling so irritated. You knew the answer to her question, but your words fell short.

Last night you had a dream. About Wooyoung. Everything seemed normal until he sat down next to you on your best friend's bed and laid his hand against your thigh, his thumb circling the skin just as his hands would always do when they came into contact with you.

"You want me, don't you?" His big brown eyes stared into your own as he carried on massaging your flesh, tingles zipping up and down your spine as you sat there in utter shock. The close proximity forced you to take in all his features. His little moles under his eye and on his lip. His gorgeous jawline sculpted by god himself. The way his fresh out-of-the-shower hair was draped over his forehead and the way the water droplets rolled over his tanned skin. God, he really was pretty, wasn't he? Your eyes darted back and forth between his features before finally landing back on his lips. You felt yourself leaning forward, losing control of your muscles as you did.

"Yeah." Wooyoung's face moved towards yours and joined your lips together so gently you barely felt it as his free hand pressed to your neck to bring you closer, the warmth of his hands and lips sending you into overdrive-

And that's when you jolted up out of your sleep in a cold sweat.

"Hello? Earth to y/n?" Vee waved a hand in front of your face to try to gain your attention, "What you thinking about?

"I… I had a dream and it's freaking me out okay? No more questions." you mumbled out of embarrassment.

"About my brother!? That's definitely new…don't tell me if you had sex because that's gross but I'm gonna need details!" she looks at you with a look of curiosity and horror.

"Will you lower your voice? Good god, I'm about five seconds from drowning myself in your pool."

She sighs, "Fine, but just use protection, you'd be a great dad but I don't want to be an aunt yet, I'm already busy enough with Kyungmin." you mirror her look of horror from a minute ago.

"I'm not gonna have sex with him Jesus!" she laughs at your panicked expression before sitting down to dip her feet in the pool.

"You getting in or what? We've been standing around for long enough" she said before throwing herself into the pool, splashing you on the way in. You smile and set your stuff down on a chair before taking your shirt off and following suit.

You and Vee chilled in the pool as more guests arrived and began to fill the water around you with inflatables and games, music filling the air as the sky changed to purple and red hues, the fairy lights hung on the fence twinkling this the reflection of the water. After a while, you could feel your skin getting ready to shrivel in the water so you decided to get out and dry off and get a drink. Compared to earlier the kitchen was now filled with people, the majority you knew but there were still quite a few new faces, maybe Wooyoungs friends? you didn't really care to converse with people who associated with him, so you went straight to the drinks table.

Only to feel a stranger's hands around you, pulling you towards him, "Hey handsome, what are you drinking? I'll get it for you hm?" Great, some drunk asshole has already started making rounds but before you could even reply with a snide comment, Wooyoung had ripped the guy away from you and had a hand clutched onto the guy's shirt.

"Don't fucking touch him you asshole, if you're gonna act like this Minjun ill kick you out right fucking now." Woo hissed at.. minjun? so he must know him then. Minjun put his hands up in defeat and apologised to Wooyoung before walking to the living room. Wooyoung turned back to you looking you up and down with worry. He knew you weren't comfortable with that much physicality, especially with strangers, but it was still weird to see him so outwardly caring about the state you were in. Maybe he was always like this, but you opted to ignore him most of the time so you wouldn't know.

"Y/n you okay, he didn't hurt you right? do you want him out he can leave, I'm sorry I didn't think he'd be weird-" You cut off his rambling, just wanting to leave and put on a shirt to not feel so exposed for the time being.

"Woo, it's fine I'll survive." You were looking around until that moment, finally connecting with his eyes. You noticed that he had a rather surprised reaction, not understanding why until you replayed what you just said in your head.

You never called him Woo, that was only reserved for friends. You never considered yourself to be anything close to a friend to him so you refused to call him it, despite him telling you to the first time you met him. You didn't really want to discuss this with him any more than you already had, so you slid past him to go and grab your shirt.

"Seriously, what the fuck is happening with you two?" Vee laughed at her brother, "He's spoken to you more tonight than he has in the last 10 years and It's kind of freaking me out honestly." Wooyoung stood there still in a state of surprise, acknowledging his sister's words, before returning to his regular composure.

"Oh I'll figure it out, he can't keep a secret from me." He flashed a grin at his sister and sauntered to the living room, grabbing an empty bottle and calling everyone to sit down and play spin the bottle.

You reluctantly sat down in the fairly small circle after San linked arms with you and practically pulled you to it. Surprisingly most of the guests didn't want to play so most of them either sat down to spectate and cheer on the players or moved outside to relax in the warm summer night air.

"Who's going first then?" Seonghwa sighed looking around the circle, praying someone would volunteer so there wouldn't be an extensive game of rock paper scissors.

"One of the hosts should go first, it's courtesy" Yeosang chimed in, looking between Wooyoung and Vee.

"Ooh, I'll go then~" Vee chirped, leaning into the middle and giving the bottle a good spin. The circle of people watched the bottle circle round a few times before landing dead centre between Hongjoong and Mingi.

"That's pointing at me!" Mingi exclaimed to Hongjoong, only for Hongjoong to argue back that it was pointing at him.

Vee laughed at the bickering boys, "I'll kiss you both then, yeah?" She crawled over to where they were and gave them a quick peck each before moving back to her space. You rolled your eyes and laughed at the boys who were abashedly blushing next to you. They span the bottle a few more times before it finally landed on you. At this point the group was teetering on the edge of being buzzed and drunk, you being the former.

"Come on y/n spin it!~" Vee shouted not being able to register her volume now, obviously being the latter the way her cheeks were rosy. You reached over to the bottle and spun it, anticipation making your stomach churn. You watched it spin round and around, feeling as though it was taking hours to slow down. Finally, it came to a halt and your heart stopped, knowing damn well who was sitting in that direction. But as you looked up -

"Yunho! kiss! kiss! kiss!" the circle cheered and gawked at the two of you in excitement. You and Yunho met in the middle before pressing your lips together briefly, moving back to your designated spots. Yunhos cheeks were slightly flushed, mostly from the alcohol, but before you could think about it anymore, your eyes drifted to Wooyoung who was staring right back at you. His eyelids were lowered as he kept his gaze fixed on your lips. what the fuck? You would blame it on him drinking but he had drank less than you at the point, so it was kind of scaring your buzzed brain.

As you watched the bottle spin over and over again, it managed to keep narrowly avoiding you, making your stomach flip time and time again as it passed you. As the circle started to get bored, Vee suggested we amp up the tension by playing truth or dare.

"But if you decide not to do it you have to take a shot, okay?" The group nods in agreement and Vee spins the bottle once more to decide who the first victim is. As the bottle span once the tension rose in your chest, you could already feel who it was going to land on, and sure enough, it came to a halt pointing straight at the man across from you.

"Woo! Truth or dare?" He ponders for a second before deciding on his answer.

"Dare." Wooyoung looks at you before returning his line of sight to his sister. But, before she could answer with a dare, you chimed in first.

"I dare you to back Mingi's cup!" You looked at the growing horror on his face, as Mingi was famous for his awful attempts at being a mixologist, but Woo wasn't ready to lose a dare, even if the counterpart was only taking one shot instead. He wasn't really thinking at that moment since it was you who asked. You watched him stand up and walk over to Mingi, grabbing his cup and staring at it briefly while grimacing before bringing it to his soft lips and chugging it in one go. As he finished the drink he hissed at the taste and shook his head before giving Mingi a stinkeye and walking back to his seat.

"Okay, y/n, truth or dare" Wooyoung studied you, waiting for your answer.

"Uh, truth?" you stammered out trying to think about what Wooyoung would've made you do if you had picked dare, probably make you jump in the pool or-

"What was the last thing you touched yourself over?" what the fuck? the room filled with oohs and giggles while they waited for your answer. How the fuck could you tell them it was a dream about Wooyoung that had pushed you over the edge? you hadn't even told Vee because she still would have likely been horrified despite her interest

"um, a dream." The circle cheered and laughed again at your answer and you could feel your cheeks warming.

"what was it about y/n?" Wooyoung pushed more and the circle seemed to get more excited in anticipation of your reply.

You huffed at Wooyoung, "Not telling you weirdo, plus it's not 21 questions." feeling eyes on you at your small outburst. "I'm gonna get a drink, carry on without me, I'll be back." You smiled, putting on your best poker face before getting up and leaving the room. you could feel Wooyoungs eyes on the back of you as you walked out almost making you stumble. You walked through the kitchen, grabbed a fresh drink filled to the brim and walked out to the pool, slipping your shoes off once again and dipping your feet into the pool. You felt your body cool down in the summer night air as you swayed your legs in the water and sipped on your drink. Why was Wooyoung being so weird today? His gaze was making you feel dizzy, you'd never really felt this way about him so why was a silly dream affecting you so much? You felt as if he was reading your mind all night and it was starting to get to you honestly.

"You want to smoke?" The familiar voice nearly made you fall into the pool, Speak of the fucking devil. You turn your head to see the last person you would want to right now, holding a joint in one hand and a lighter in the other. Despite your need to be as far away as possible from this man right now, you couldn't pass up the one chance at relaxation being offered to you.

"…Sure." You reluctantly answered him. He took a seat way too close for your comfort at this moment, but you tried to shrug the weird feeling in your stomach off. You watched Wooyoung hold the joint between his fingers and light it, bringing it to his lips. He took a hit and handed it to you, smoke cascading out of his mouth while looking into your eyes.

"Your turn," He kept observing you as you took a hit from the joint, feeling it travel down into your lungs and relaxing you instantly. You took one more long puff before handing it back to the boy next to you and laid back to look up at the stars. You and Wooyoung kept passing it back and forth in silence till it was finished, him now laying back with you.

"Why do you hate me so much, y/n?" He said so quietly you barely caught it.

You sighed before formulating a reply, "You used to irritate me a lot when we were younger, you'd pushed my buttons too much and I started to dislike you more and more. Now though? I'm not really sure anymore." You tilted your head to look at Wooyoung only to see he was looking right back at you. He was always looking at you.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to be your friend, but you pushed me away and the only way I knew how to get your attention was to do what I did, and eventually I didn't even realise what I was doing to you, to our relationship." His words felt sincere, and fuck you felt horrible. You knew Wooyoung only acted that way with you and you hadn't even noticed why, not even after ten years of fighting. You kept looking into his eyes, and you could see the sadness in them. Was that always there and you just never noticed?

"I never said thank you for the clothes you gave me when I came out, did I?…thank you."

"I knew you needed them, they were waiting in a stack for the day you would claim them." before you could even realise it, you felt a tear roll down your cheek. Wooyoung hesitantly lifted his palm to your face and wiped the wetness from your face, stroking his finger under your eye and cupping your face with his hand. His soft thumb swiped back and forth, gently caressing your face.

He looked so pretty in the moonlight. The way the light sat on his lashes and defined his jaw made you want to touch. You craved to feel the surface of his skin grazing against your palm right now you could hardly fight it. Instead, you leaned into his chest and rested your head on his collarbone, not daring to look into his eyes right now, not daring to reveal the emotions in the expression that was on your face. He stroked your hair rhythmically and you felt your whole body relaxed into his touch, god was this what you were missing out on all this time?

"Don't fall asleep on me now, my sister will kill me if she sees I let you sleep on the floor," You chuckled into the warmth of his chest before finally sitting up, Wooyoung following you.

"you wanna go for a swim?" You smiled at him, not waiting for an answer, taking your shirt off and sliding into the heated pool. You swam to the middle, hearing a splash behind you, and turned around to see a now wet-haired Wooyoung following suit. You tried to ignore the fact that now he really reminded you of your dream - hair soaked, droplets dripping down his shimmering skin as his smile spread wide at you. You tried to swim away but your battle was quickly lost when you felt a hand grab your ankle and pull you under the water.

Your body flipped underwater, turning around to feel Wooyoung right above you. His hands came to your face and begged you to look in his eyes. You opened them to see his face inches from yours, and how desperate his eyes were to close the short distance between the two of you, and you were only a weak man. You pulled him down by the nape of his neck and joined your lips together and good lord, even underwater, it was still better than you imagined. Wooyoung broke the kiss after a few seconds and brought you back to the surface for air, not giving you long till he dived back in to kiss you once more, his hands begging to feel every inch of your waist and pull you towards him. The way his skin felt against yours felt hot and you needed more of it everywhere so desperately.

"Woo I need you," you whispered, trying to communicate with your eyes and praying he would understand.

"You have me, baby." His body moved you backwards, out of sight from the living room and windows, until your back hit the side of the pool. His mouth made its way to your neck, nipping at the skin before running his tongue over it. "Can I touch you?" He whispered into your ear, biting your earlobe.

You nodded into his shoulder, hungry for the feeling of his fingers in you. His hand slipped passed the waistband of your swim shorts, giving him straight access to you. His fingertip grazed up and down your slit, teasing your aching clit.

"Wooyoung please" You whined into his ear, deciding to take some sort of initiative and fidget with the strings of his shorts, tugging at them till he permitted you to touch.

"You wanna touch me, baby?" He grabbed your hand in his and slipped it into his shorts, letting you get a feel of the bottom of his stomach, hand slowly inching down till you reached the base of his girth. His other hand was still teasing your cunt, finally allowing one digit to slide into your hole. You moaned softly into his shoulder, writhing at the pleasure of feeling him in you, while still beating yourself up from missing out on this for so long.

As you were about to start stroking his cock you heard the back door open. You and Wooyoung shot your heads around to see who it was, quickly separating yourselves to not get caught. You heard the loud music bouncing throughout the house as a hoard of people spread out onto the porch, all ready to go for another swim, Vee carrying another speaker with her to liven up the night.

"What are you guys doing out here?" Vee shouted over the music, looking between the two of you with a shocked expression.

You looked at Wooyoung trying to formulate an answer, but you answered for him instead, "Oh, we were just talking… about stuff…" You watched her face try to decipher what you meant, but she came up short with answers. She could tell that both of you were stoned though, and honestly? She was grateful you were getting along, even if it was just for one night. Wooyoung watched Vee walk away, far enough before he asked you,

"Do you wanna go upstairs?" He pressed his body against you slightly, and you could feel how hard he was against your leg. His eyes were begging for this not to end here, and you didn't feel the need to argue for once in your life, So you dragged him to the ladder and got out first, ready with a towel for him once he got out so he could hide what was going on his shorts. Once he was out he clutched your hand in his own, pulling you through the house and up the stairs to the safety of his room. Before you could even react Wooyoung had you pressed up against the closed door, lips back on the underside of your jaw. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness of his room. You had only been in here a handful of times, in which you'd never spent long enough to have a good look around the area. As you examined the room, your eyes zeroed in on the bong on his bedside table.

"You have a bong?" Your voice came out hoarse.

"Yeah, you ever..?" Wooyoung questioned.

You looked at him, "No… Can I?" He smiled at you and brought you over to his bed. The bong was already filled with fresh water, as Wooyoung packed the bowl, grabbed his lighter and held it to the bowl igniting it. He inhaled for a few seconds before pulling the bowl out, inhaling the rest of the smoke. He gave you a smug grin at your amazement and handed the bong over to you.

"So I'm gonna light it for you, and when I pull the bowl out, I'm gonna need you to inhale the rest of it or it'll leave stale smoke in the chamber, okay? now I'll let you do a little hit to get you started, just put your lips on it like I did, baby." His sugarcoated pet names had your stomach doing flips, but you stayed focused on the task at hand. Your lips met the mouthpiece and you waited for wooyoungs signal.

"Okay I'm lighting it, start inhaling gently…" You followed his instructions, feeling the water bubbling and the smoke enter your mouth. "Okay inhale fully," Wooyoung concentrated as he pulled the bowl out, you felt the fresh air clear the bong and go into your mouth. You took your mouth off of the bong and exhaled, feeling a cough climb out of your throat with the smoke - Wooyoungs hand instantly joined you to rub circles on your back, a little laugh coming from him at your suffering. After you laughed with him, "Let me try again, I won't cough this time-" Wooyoung suddenly kissed you quickly, making your body follow him as he pulled away.

"Sorry, I just wanted to kiss you again." He looked…Bashful? You had never seen this on him, and God it made him look hotter, I mean, really how did you not realise any of this? He brought the bong back to your mouth getting ready to light it once more. "You wanna do the same or a bigger hit?"

You tried to think through your already clouded mind, "Big." was all you were able to come out with, too busy staring at his pretty face. You put your lips to the bong and Wooyoung repeated the process, adding an extra second before pulling the bowl out for you. You felt slightly lightheaded from the lack of oxygen, laying back slowly to ground yourself, hearing Woo take a hit above you. As Wooyoung joined your side, Your mind started filling with all the dirty things you wanted to do with him, all the things you could do to make up for wasted time. Woo felt you sit up and throw a leg over his waist so you were straddling him.

"You know what you asked me earlier? About what my dream was about?" You leant down to his face and whispered in the shell of his ear. "It was about you. I was dreaming about you, looking all sexy fresh out of the shower, touching me." You looked at his face, hooded eyes but still surprised at your confession. You ground your hips down on his bulge, feeling his hard-on grow against you once again

"Y/n…" You halted your movements, shit, had you done too much? Before you could worry you felt his hips rise looking for the friction "Oh God please don't stop, y/n." His hands landed on your hips and pulled you back down, moving your hips with his own. He whimpered under you as you rolled your hips along him, thumbs massaging your flesh. His head tilted back and you took your chance to nip at the base of his throat, and began to suck, leaving a blooming mark in its wake. Your mouth needed to be busy, begging to have Woo in it any way you could have him. You left a trail of bites on his collarbone leading up to the underside of his jaw and ears, making him huff with each one.

"Mine," you whispered. He heard you. Your words sent him into overdrive as he sat up and flipped your bodies so you were now under him before he started tugging at your shorts.

"need these stupid things off," He mumbled finally getting them off you, leaving you completely exposed. "Can I eat you out? I really wanna taste you." He patiently waited for your response like a dog waiting for a treat. As soon as you nodded, cheeks blushed, He dived in and started to devour your aching cunt. His tongue was working magic against your hole, nose rubbing your clit deliciously as he moaned into you. You writhed against his mouth, hands gripping his hair to ground you because of the way he took you to cloud nine.

You could already feel the orgasm building as he greedily ate you out. His tongue worked against your clit as he added a digit to your soaked hole, moving it in and out in a steady rhythm, desperate to bring you over the edge before he finally fucked you senseless. He was barely taking breaks to breathe, ready to die if it meant he'd die face buried in your sweet cunt, the way you clenched around his finger was going to make him cum in his shorts at just the feeling. Both of your senses were heightened from the weed and the pleasure was a hundred times stronger than usual, you weren't sure you were gonna last long and Wooyoung could tell. "You gonna come on my fingers, baby?" He said, voice croaky as he added another finger, "Cum on my face pretty boy, I want to feel you on my tongue when you do."

Wooyoungs words sent your body over the edge, and you seized up as you let go, feeling Wooyoung sucking your clit while you rode it out on his fingers. He unlatched his mouth from you, feeling your body calm down, and slid his fingers out of you to see them soaked in your arousal. You watched him with hooded eyes as he licked the traces of you off of his fingers. Fuck, that sight alone could've brought you to an orgasm again.

"Gonna fuck your pretty hole now, baby" You moaned at his tone, pulling him to you so you could taste yourself in his mouth, tongues moving in unison. Once you had a good grip on him, you pulled him back onto the bed and stood up to pull his shorts down. You watch his hard cock spring out from them and licked your lips at the sight. You knew it was big, you could feel it but fuck, the way it glistened from the precum leaking out of his tip, made your desire to taste him grow one hundred times. You leaned down to his tip and gripped the base, before running your tongue across it and sinking down about halfway. He whined feeling your mouth around his hardness, it was heaven but, "I don't wanna cum in your mouth baby, want you on my cock now," He begged you, needing to feel you, to connect you.

You needed him just as badly, so you moved upwards so you could straddle him. You lifted your hips and hovered over his cock, holding it so you could get the angle right before slowly sinking down on him. You felt so full as he entered you, the stretch feeling the best you had ever felt. You knew nothing else would ever feel the way Wooyoung felt in you at that moment, you would never be able to take another cock that would feel as good as he did. His voice cracked as you finally bottomed out on him, staying there until you both adjusted to the feeling.

"Holy fuck, give me a second or I'll bust early" Wooyoung huffed out, his chest sinking and rising quickly as if he had forgotten to breathe, because well, he did. "Fuck baby, you feel so good, your boy cunt is mine, it's mine you're mine oh my god." Wooyoung babbled, his brain completely fried from how you clenched around him.

"You ready for me to move, baby?" You whispered to Wooyoung, receiving a nod from Wooyoung as you started slowly rocking your hips back and forth. The feeling of him reaching deep into you was pure bliss. Wooyoungs hands had a death grip on your hips, fingertips digging into your soft flesh, making you moan with each movement.

"Fuck Wooyoung, you feel so good, I don't know how long I can last," You could already feel yourself losing control of your sanity, but you weren't about to let this end so quickly. You lifted your hips to slam back down onto his cock, making him moan loudly. You kept this rhythm going and the pleasure was overwhelming, feeling the way he hit your g spot so nicely each time you bounced on him.

"Ah fuck, fuck you feel so fucking amazing holy fuck please don't stop," His praises kept fueling you to sink onto him deeper and deeper with each stroke. You both were losing your sanity together and it was fucking incredible, if Wooyoung was ready to die happy before, he was even more sure now that he was buried so deep in you that he wasn't sure if he ever wanted to leave you and the way you gripped his throbbing member. Your body ached to be filled by Wooyoungs cum, not ready to feel empty once he was done. You craved to feel full like this for as long as you were on this earth, while Wooyoung was by your side.

"Baby I'm not gonna last much longer, where do you want me to cum?" Wooyoung wheezed out between breaths.

"In me, please god please, I need you in me," You begged, speeding your pace up as Wooyoung reached to circle your clit.

"Are you sure?" He said worried.

"It's fine I'm on the pill, please Woo I need it." Wooyoung rocked his hips aggressively as his orgasm built up, yours ready to spill over the edge. His hand sped up on your clit and finally, your orgasm hit you like a truck, ripping a guttural moan from your chest. Wooyoung felt you clenching around him so hard that his own orgasm followed suit, His soul being snatched from him as you kept riding out yours.

Your body turned to jelly as you finished and you flopped down onto Woo's chest, hearing his heart racing against your ear.

"Fuck me." He gasped out, still trying to catch his breath, making you laugh.

"I literally just did Woo." He pinched your side in response, making you laugh more, your arms wrapping around him. You sat there until you had both calmed down, before sliding out of you. You could feel his cum leaking out of you and you whined at the loss as he moved you to the side of him so he could clean up.

"Sorry, baby I gotta clean you, and me up. I'll be two seconds." You watched him walk to his bathroom, damn he's got a nice ass, you thought to yourself, waiting for him to come back. Sure enough, he was quick, and back with a washcloth to clean you up. He was careful as he wiped you down, knowing you'd still be sensitive after two orgasms. He handed you some of his clothes to put on and excused himself to get the two of you some water.

"Where have you been? and where's y/n? I can't find him," Vee questioned Wooyoung as he reached the bottom of the stairs, noticing he had changed into sleep clothes despite the party still going.

"Don't tell me…" Vee thought about the circumstance, and the guilty look on Wooyoung's face.

"Did you fuck my best friend??" She watched the corners of Wooyoung's mouth curl up, and she knew she already had the answer.

"Sorry?" Wooyoung said very unapologetically as Vee punched him in the arm.

"If you ever hurt him I'll kill you, I do not care if you're my twin. I still have kyungmin, you hear me?" Vee said dead seriously, slightly scaring Wooyoung, but he couldn't help but make fun.

"I solemnly swear to never hurt y/n as long as I live, Seargent!" vee punched him one more getting ready to send a very long message to y/n.

Wooyoung arrived back upstairs, two bottles of water in his arms and a few munchies in the other.

"Oh you're a godsend Wooyoung- never thought I'd say that…" You laughed with Wooyoung as he plopped down next to you in bed, putting a movie on and cuddling up to you.

"Sorry, it took so long for us to be friends, Wooyoung. Woo." You sighed, avoiding eye contact with him now, guilt still eating away at you after everything.

"I don't want to be friends." Wooyoung declared, waiting for you to look at him. You shot your head around, confused and concerned.

"What? What do you mean?"

Wooyoung smiled before answering, " I've loved you too long just to be friends, y/n." Tears filled your eyes as you wrapped yourself around him, needing his warmth. "I love you y/n."

"Love you too."

AHHHH tysm if you made it to the end I hope you enjoyed!!! <33333333 thank you again for 500 followers !!!❤️

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[tatorthots]

— get you

featured: college!Eren x afab!reader x college!Levi, Mikasa Ackerman, Sasha Braus, Louise (canon Yeagerist)

cw: modern!au, slight fluff if you really squint, suggestive content, minors dni, toxic dynamics, possessiveness, cursing

synopsis: the life of a college student is already hard enough as it is with classes, homework, and lectures so why not add a complicated love triangle as well?

a/n: this is a repost !! I’ve written this before but decided to go back and re-edit it :) to everyone who’s read this before I hope you all enjoy this improved version!

Eren fucking Yeager.

The college campus’ fuckboy and the literal bane of your existence.

Eren has been the thorn in your side since you were both assigned dorm mates at the beginning of your junior year of college. Sure, you’ve heard of the infamous name he set out for himself as the ruthless ‘Attack Titan’ in your school's football team, and you were fully aware of his cold and narcissistic personality but hey, who were you to judge a book by its reviews, right? So you made the mistake of ever being kind to him when you first introduced yourself only to be met by desolate green eyes and a scoff. Not to mention he had the audacity to give you ‘house rules’ which basically summarized to cleaning the dorm and staying out of his way. No, Eren almost never spared you small talk or even pretended to tolerate your mere existence. Why? Who fucking knows. Honestly, you firmly believed the brunette was born with a vendetta against you — every day striving and scheming to better his tactics in making your life miserable like some ripoff supervillain. But worst of all is the fact he seemed to make a habit of following you around campus like some lost puppy. You’d think someone who supposedly hates you would do anything to keep themselves away, right? Wrong. He thrived off bickering, insulting, and annoying you at any chance he got. Weirdly enough, no matter how many times you prayed someone would approach you to give you reason to ditch him, everyone always seemed to particularly steer clear from you when he was with you. Almost as if they were too afraid to even look your way, let alone talk to you. But I guess that could all be chalked up to Erens possessive behavior; his sinister stare and malicious intent were ever present anytime anyone dared get close to you. Not that you would know though, no, you were far too busy rolling your eyes and thinking of witty comebacks or insults. Unknowingly, making it easier to keep you all to himself.

Silly girl.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The echo of a blunt object clamoring to the floor abruptly stirred you from your peaceful slumber as the sound of it rolling on the hardwood floor rattled through the cramped dorm. Sitting up from your resting position you outwardly groaned as you rubbed the sleep off your eyes, “What the hell?” you sighed. Snatching your phone from its charging port you checked the time, squinting your eyes at the sudden brightness, “5:06 a.m?” Huffing in annoyance your jaw clenched as you glared at the door, already starting bright and early this morning huh you asshole, throwing your legs off the bed you groggily made your way out your bedroom door. Fuming at the fact you were forced to wake up so early after pulling an all-nighter studying last night; which, by the way, was already hard to do with Eren and his friends cluttering around the living room all night.

“What do you think you’re doi—“ your voice came to a complete halt when your eyes landed on an opened package and your recently delivered figurine displaced out of its box and lying on the floor. And to add insult to injury there stood Erens number one psycho of a fan, Louise. Giggling to herself as she kicked what would’ve been your most prized possession away from her. “What.. what are you doing…?” Your voice was barely above a whisper as your eyes remained focused on your figurine. The same figurine you excitedly pre-ordered a year ago. You couldn’t even afford to eat for a month afterward because of how much you spent on it and now there it was being kicked around by some desperate pest? So balling your hands into fists you marched over and shoved Louise aside to see the damage she had caused. But your anger only ignited when you saw your favorite character's weapon broken in half and their stand shattered to pieces. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You seethed as you bent down to sorrowfully try to connect the shattered pieces together. You were tired. So tired of this. Carefully tightening your hold on the broken pieces; you hated how you felt like you could cry from frustration. “Oops~” was all Louise bothered herself to say in response to her crime. Quietly, almost too calmly, you spoke, “… What did you just say?” “I said ‘oops’,” she cheekily replied, “besides, it’s not my fault you leave around boxes for anyone to touch.” Resting her hand on her hip she smirked down at you, “If you really cared so much about your little dolls then you shouldn’t have been so irresponsible~ heh, hope you learned your lesson.”

Standing up from your crouched position, you side-eyed Louise with a piercing, almost eerily, hyper-focused glare. This is it, you thought before clenching your fists and raising your arm, intent on actually beating her until your knuckles ached. But before you could swing, you felt a cautious grip on your wrist and a firm hold on your hip. Everything moved so fast, you didn’t even get to acknowledge the fingertips that slid up to the hem of your latex shorts before you found yourself spun and placed behind Eren. Staring up at him you blinked a few times. “Don’t get so heated.” He spat, with a disinterest in his tone almost mocking your apprehensive reaction, “She’s my guest.” He cocked his head at you with a sarcastic smile, and god did your eye twitch. It made your stomach churn and skin crawl knowing what he meant by that, and it… hurt. Shaking your thoughts, you swat his hands off of you, and scowled at the man towering over you, daring to defend the rat responsible for all of this. Dryly you scoffed, “She’s just another fuck-buddy you bring in here ren.” Crossing your arms together you continued your jeering, “You make a mess wherever you go and you even have the audacity to drag in trash? Tch. Please.” But, oh how naive you are to not notice. The glint of amusement reflecting off Erens emerald eyes just from the venom in your tone; it makes his dick twitch. He shifts a little uncomfortably trying to ease himself before exasperatedly sighing. “Well dove,” he begins as he starts to circle around you, “maybe if you weren’t such a self-righteous prude I wouldn’t have to bring girls in here…” stopping right in front of you he leaned down to reach eye-level, his taunting gaze only inches away from you as he lowly growled out, “I could just fuck you instead.”

Truth be told, Eren knew he was full of it — straight up lying through his teeth every time he told you he didn’t want you. In reality, the man was absolutely obsessed with you and anyone with eyes could see it, everyone except you. But unfortunately, Eren isn’t the type to admit his feelings so freely, let alone submit to his emotions. No, he was too prideful for that. Don’t be too harsh on him though, I mean, the idiot hasn’t even figured out himself what it is he feels for you. It could be part of the reason why he’s so particularly hostile with you, and why he’s equally possessive. Not to mention that Eren has been the object of many’s affection since he could remember; as in he’s never not had what he did or didn’t want. He learned early on that personality and sincerity isn’t anything more than currency in this world, and he abides by that principle. So to have someone like you, who’s breathtakingly mesmerizing, compassionate, intelligent, interesting, funny, and well, you, is completely left field for this playboy. You’re everything he thought wasn’t possible. You contradict his entire worldview of people. How could he not resent you — or fall for you all the same? He hates it.

However, as of now, all you know is that you’re fed up with this situation. Pushing past them to grab your keys and hoodie, you turned around and stormed through the front door. Did you know where you were going? Not a clue. But you sure as hell aren’t going to be anywhere near here. Anywhere near him. Walking out the door you heard Louise’s cackling laugh practically grating your ears and it only made your blood simmer further as you slammed the door behind you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“I’ve told you to speak to the Dean and ask for another dorm mate,” sighing as she stirred her coffee with a spoon, her dark eyes flickered up at you, “I’m sure if you explain your situation to him he’ll be more likely to accept your proposal.” Anxiously combing your hair back, you groaned at your best friend's advice, “Mikasa don’t you think I’ve already tried that?” Dramatically throwing your arms on the diner's table, you buried your face in your arms, “The Dean only has a strict appointment-based schedule,” with a pout you lift your head up slightly, “and the waiting list spans for the next four months!” Tucking your head back to sulk, Mikasa hummed in acknowledgment, but that’s when your other friend spoke up. “Then why don’t you try talking to his assistant?” Snapping your head up, you stare questioningly at Sasha as she shoved another beignet in her mouth, “Yeah but —mmph — what’s his name again?” “Levi.” Mikasa chimed in, “Levi Ackerman.” Levi Ackerman..?, you thought, Why does that name sound so familiar? But you didn’t get long to think about it before Sasha excitedly shouted out, “Yes—! Levi!” Putting her fork down she rubbed her chin in contemplation, “Huh, I heard he’s kind of a total jerk though, and everyone who’s ever met up with him spirals into some sort of existential crisis…” Mikasa kicked Sasha from under the table as she nodded in your direction, “O-oh! But um.. I mean how bad could he be, right?” Trying to nervously wave off what she said, Sasha patted you on the head, “You’ll be fine, y/n!”

I’ll be fine? Groaning again, you leaned your cheek on your hand as you looked at the people chatting or studying at their tables. “Well, I guess I don’t have much of a choice..” which to an extent is true. You either continue to put up with Eren until you eventually get an appointment with the Dean, or you talk to Levi Ackerman and hope you don’t spiral. That name though…, you pondered, Why do I know it? Smearing around the egg yolk on your avocado toast you glanced up at your friends. “Hey, why does that Levi name sound so familiar? Do we know him or something?” “Yes and no.” Sasha answered, “You’ve heard his name before because he’s that super mysterious senior everyone’s afraid of.” “He’s been the leader of the Honors Society since he was a sophomore, and he’s top-ranking academically in the country.” Mikasa added. Thinking to yourself you finally remembered, “Oh! That’s right!” You triumphantly chirped until it dawned on you what you remembered. Noticing the dread in your eyes Sasha laughed, “Mhm, you definitely look like you remember now~” “He’s that academic thug…” sinking into your chair you genuinely began to wonder who you crossed in your past life to deserve this, I probably helped commit genocide or something…, “Yeah, he’s gotten into a few fights but it’s always settled within reason.” “Pft, c’mon Mikasa, the schools probably too scared to punish its most valuable student.” Sasha snorted. “Hm. You might have a point, but it’s usually ruffians who feel they have something to prove that challenge him,” Mikasa pointed out, “He also hangs around his small clique. I think, our seniors like Petra, Eld, Gunther, Olou, and Hange.” “See y/n! How bad could he be if he hangs out with them?” Sighing, you smiled at your two closest friends and their attempt at making you feel better. “Yeah, you guys are right,” finishing your latte, you beamed down at them, “I’m gonna kick today's ass!”

After the three of you waved your goodbyes, you set off to go find the very man you only hear of through quiet whispers. Honestly, with all the mystery shrouding him you really started to believe he was some sort of urban legend the school came up with. Kind of like ‘if you don’t do your homework, Levi Ackerman will show up in your closet’ type of thing, you know? With an exasperated sigh, you look down at your clothes. Great. I’m about to meet the guy who’s also known for his ocd in a jujutsu keisen hoodie, spandex shorts, and crocs.. Sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck, you stared up at the birds flying above you, I wish I could live freely like them… Longingly looking up, you snap out of your thoughts as you approached the administrative office. Well, I promised Sasha and Mikasa I’d do this so.. here I go. Stepping into the front office you began your unexpected hour-and-a-half-long journey being sent practically all across campus in search of this Levi guy. You went from office to office, met up with more people than you’ve probably spoken to in the last two weeks, and wasted time waiting around for people who ended up either not knowing where he is or sending you back across campus. Until finally you made it to the science research facility building where you tiredly dragged yourself toward the receptionist’s desk. “Please..” you heaved, “Please tell me… *gasp of air* tell me Levi Ackerman is in this building!” Your eyes pleaded at the poor, spooked old lady as she stared at you. “Oh honey, please have a seat!” She scurried next to you and guided you to sit down, “He’s tucked away in the computer lab right now, let me go notify him!” Grabbing her arm, you peered into her eyes, “He’s here?” “Y-yes!” Nervously laughing, she placed her hand on top of yours, “You know what? How about you come with me. He’ll most likely decline your visit if I notify him.” And with that, you made your final trudge with the old lady you managed to scare into personally leading you to Levi.

“Alrighty sweetheart, this is him.” Pointing toward a large door, the receptionist politely smiled at you before hurrying back to her desk and leaving you all alone. Glancing at the wooden door, you suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of anxiety. Okay… I um.. I made it this far, right? You tried to reassure yourself but the longer you stared at the door, the more your imagination ran rampant. What if he’s big and terrifying looking? You imagined a tall, ogre-looking man, Or what if he’s a total creep? Then some balding guy who resembled a mole. If ren were here I wouldn’t feel so intimid—huh? Ren? Shuddering at your thoughts, you took a deep inhale, Alright, clearly the longer I stand here the more I’m beginning to lose it, so with a little pep-talk you figured you might as well rip the bandaid. Twisting the handle, you carefully pushed open the door and peeked inside. The entire room was almost the size of an entire lecture hall but filled with neat rows of computers. Wow… you thought as you opened the door further to step inside. Looking around the room in amazement, you immediately stopped in your tracks when you noticed a figure sitting at the front of the room reading a textbook with notebooks and papers stacked on the table. That must be him. Clearing your throat you decided to call out to him, “Excuse me, I’m looking for Levi Ackerman,” slowly walking up to him you tried to fill in the silence, “I’m assuming that’s you, right?” Closing in on the table he sat at, you managed to make out a head of black hair and.. and him drinking tea? Quirking a brow at the full tea set he had displayed, you spoke up again, “My names y/n. I wanted to talk to you about an issue I have and I was told you cou—“ “Get lost.” H-huh..? Did I mishear him? “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you but I—“ “If you don’t intend to offend me then go bother somebody else. I’m busy.” His voice was deep and monotone, clearly uninterested in what you had to say by the way he didn’t even bother to acknowledge your presence.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you knitted your brows in irritation. Of course. Gritting your teeth, you strode right up to him and slammed your hand down on the desk, “You’re a tough guy to find, you know that?” You chuckled dryly, “Did you also know I spent the last two hours running around campus trying to find you? So no, I’m not leaving until you at least listen to what I have to say.” Setting his tea down, the raven-haired man finally turned to look at you, “Is that so?” He questioned, though it was clear the question was more rhetorical than genuine. With a long sigh, he swiveled his chair to completely face you; and then that’s when you flinched in surprise as you scanned him. He’s hot… you thought, Oh god, he’s hot..!? The man in question had inky black hair styled in an undercut, a complimentary choice when paired with his delicate yet sharp features. This definitely wasn’t what you expected. Even the dark circles under his eyes look good… A light blush began to creep up on your cheeks as you realized the commotion you just made in front of someone like him. All the while you stared in a flustered daze, Levi was languidly trailing his eyes across your body. Resting his head on his hand, he couldn’t deny he liked the sudden surprise presented to him. Huh.. he mused. “Well? What’s so damn important?” Straightening up at the sound of his voice, you smoothed out the wrinkles on your hoodie, “Oh! Yes, of course.. I’d like to propose a change of dorm mates.” Staring at him, the intensity in his eyes only worked to captivate you to him, “My… my roommate isn’t working out, and no matter what I try to do to civilize the situation it just doesn’t work out..” you ended, almost disappointingly. Levi hummed as he listened before standing up from his chair. “Is that what’s got you so worked up?” But something about his tone made you think he might’ve been referring to something else. “Why not go to the Dean?” He inquired as he slowly approached you, and you subconsciously took a few steps back until the back of your thighs hit a table behind you and you almost fell sitting on it. “The Dean has appointments booked all through the semester and since the matter is urgent I figured I’d reach out to his personal assistant.” The fact you managed to jumble that out without stuttering was a blessing in itself. “I see.” Narrowing his eyes on you he continued, “Then I guess I have no choice but to agree if it’s so urgent.” Blinking a few times you took a moment to process his words, Is he agreeing to help me? “Meet me later this evening to discuss the details,” his expression remained unchanged but you caught glimpse of the glimmer in his silver eyes as he stared at you, “I assume 7 works for you?” “7..?” You muttered, “Ah, yes, of course!” “Great. I’ll escort you then. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he closed in on your body and reached an arm past your waist, his lips inches away from your ear as he leaned in, “I have other matters to attend to.” Your body stiffened and your breath hitched until he pulled back with a notebook in his hand. He was.. just reaching for his notebook..? Nodding your head in agreement you politely excused yourself and raced out of the room with a bright blush searing your skin as he watched slightly amused at your disappearing figure.

After exiting the computer lab, you stood there for a few seconds in a flustered haze. What the hell just happened? Brushing your fingertips across your cheek you tried to ease away the warmth on them. Heh, I’ve gotta tell Sasha and Mikasa about this! You giddily thought as you whipped out your phone and started typing in the group chat. And after a morning of lectures and labs without your backpack, you finally made it back to your dorm. Heaving a sigh, you slung yourself on the couch and peeked your eye to where your broken figurine last lay. It’s gone… You figured Eren must’ve thrown it away along with the rest of the trash before leaving for his afternoon classes. Grabbing a pillow you covered your face and screamed into the fabric before sitting up and punching it a few times in frustration. “Fuck—!” You loudly groaned out. Why does he have to be that way? Scrunching your face, you massaged the bridge of your nose to calm down, He’s a dick to everyone, sure, but why does he target me so much? Even after… Throwing the pillow to the other side of the couch you hastily stood up and checked the time. Whatever, you bitterly thought, it’ll all be over soon enough. So you brushed off the thought and jumped in the shower to get ready for tonight’s occasion.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Rushing around your room, you turned your phone on to see 6:43 p.m. glaring at you. No, no, nononono—! Hissing in annoyance at your time management, you hurriedly slipped on a long, slit, silk skirt over your sheer tights. “Okay, alright, almooost done!” Grunting as you put on a pair of platform boots, you stood up and admired yourself in the mirror. “Heh,” you chuckled, “Elegant and fashionable with a touch of promiscuous.” After pulling a quick jojo pose in the mirror, you adjusted your open back top and strut through your bedroom door with an excited smile. But your smile immediately turned into a grimace when you caught sight of Eren and Louise lounging on the couch. Fucking bitch.. you internally sneered as you scrunched your nose in distaste. “Self-respect… and that goes for the both of them.” You mumbled under your breath. Forget it. Rummaging around the kitchen, you tried looking for your hand purse until an agitated voice called out to you.

“Shocked you’re not tryna run around empty-handed again since you had no problem with it this morning,” you could already see his irked frown, “and yeah I heard you’ve been taking a tour through campus by the way.” Roiling your eyes, you heard him shift as you clipped on your earrings, “I looked for you in the library to bring you your bag since apparently, you need everything done for y—“ widening his eyes, Erens jaw slacked as he eyed you. “…. fuck” he lowly muttered. He knew you were fine, he gets mesmerized by your beauty every day, but damn. Your leg peeking out of the silk fabric slit, and the way it’s tight fit complimented the curve of your ass was just too much for him. His mildew gaze trailed up to your open back top and he almost groaned at the slightest tease of side-boob. And just as he almost folded, he snapped out of it when he realized you were going out dressed like that. “Wait, where the fuck are you going?”

But Eren knew that wasn’t what he was really asking. No, what you wore never bothered him, in fact, he loved when you got all dolled up; let others look because he can fight — and he has, for you. What Eren was really asking was ‘Where the fuck are you going without me?’ ‘Who are you meeting?’ ‘Do you like them?’ ‘Would you forget me?’ Those were the real questions bouncing around in his head.

“Doesn’t matter.” Was all you replied, but the grip those two words had on him were like a vice. Leaning down to adjust your ankle bracelet, his eyes darted to the way your back subtly arched. He could already feel the tent growing in his pants, but he couldn’t be bothered to do something to hide it when all he could think about was how pretty you’d look stuffed full of him. He was desperate to touch you, feel you, claim you — just as desperate as he was to be owned by you, in every way, any way you’d allow him to be yours. Maybe you were just too dense for your own good. He tried his damndest to keep his composure as best as he could but his voice gave it away, “It’s a fucking date.” He snarled, low and threateningly. You glanced over at him, confused and infuriated at his audacity to interrogate you about where you were going or who you were meeting. “Doesn’t. Matter.” Both of you locked eyes as an intensity conflicted within his irises and a rage burned within yours. Scoffing, you turned on your heels, grabbed your purse, and walked toward the front door. Eren wanted to stand up and stop you, he wanted to do something anything but the pulsing ache in his pants kept him rooted to the couch. “Tell me who it is.” He demanded, and you finally reached your breaking point. Clenching your fists you turned your head and glared at Eren, “Hah. You’re really something, huh?” You condescendingly seethed, “You always bring in random girls in here almost every night and you have the fucking audacity to question me?” Reaching for the handle, you pushed open the door, “Don’t forget your place, Eren.” And his eyes widened at the use of his name, “And I won’t forget mine.” Slamming the door behind you, he felt his heart ache at the way your voice wavered when you said those last words. He wanted to argue, tell you that you’re wrong, that he’d do anything for you but he couldn’t. All he could do was stare at the door and lose himself in his thoughts.

Through the halls, you bitterly made your way outside the dormitory. Who the hell does he think he is? Roughly opening doors, you fumed, Acting like he owns me. Hah! If I didn’t know better I’d even think he cares about me. Bursting open the front doors of the dorm entrance you marched outside and hastily walked out of the dormitory district, What does he want from me? Seriously, I don’t understand him at all! You clutched your purse as you trembled with anger, He’s so confusing, ugh! He does things for me that make me feel special but then he… but then he acts like that! Like.. like Eren and I d— bumping into somebody, you stumbled back. Huh? Looking up you were surprised to see,

“Levi?”

“The hells wrong with you?” Steadying you with a hand around your arm, you didn’t realize he had grabbed you to keep you from falling, “Do you normally walk around like you’re ready to slice someone’s head off?” He asked, and you looked away in embarrassment, “.. sorry.” “Clearly whoever you’re so damn angry with should be the one apologizing,” letting go of your arm he sardonically added, “or it’s their funeral.” Covering your mouth, you laughed at his words, and his attention focused on the sound. Pretty.. he thought. Easing from your laughter, you looked up at him with a cheery smile, “Thank you for going out of your way to wait for me, I’m sorry I’m a little late.” “Yeah.. don’t-um..,” clearing his throat, Levi averted his gaze from yours, “Don’t worry about it.” Blinking at him, you stood admiring the way the luminescent streetlights illuminated his clear skin, “We should get going.” Interrupting your daze, you tilted your head in curiosity, Hm? Oh, that’s right, “Where are we going?” Checking his watch, his sharp eyes flickered up at you, “There’s a cafe I frequent often,” walking next to you, he placed his hand on the small of your back to guide you next to him and away from the street, “It’s a little hidden but they have a good atmosphere.” His gaze drifted to you and carefully took in the sight of you, “I hope it’s to your taste.” Glancing at him your eyes sparked with excitement, “A hidden cafe? I love checking out new coffee shops to study in! I’m looking forward to potentially adding another shop to my list!” Levi watched as you buzzed with enthusiasm. He was a little apprehensive about inviting you out to a small cafe, not knowing if it’d be something you’d enjoy, so to see you react so excitedly he sighed in relief. Seems this little venture might actually be worth its while. Unbeknownst to you, Levi did do a little background check on you through his student access — perk of being the Deans assistant — and he was pleasantly surprised to see all the achievements and participation activities you had under your belt. Most students don’t bother to do more than get through classes and do solely what’s asked of them as students. So his interest most definitely peaked when he quickly scanned through your transcript. Charming, fierce, intelligent, and beautiful. Lucky me.. he mused.

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#jay writes ! ⋆⁺₊⋆ ♡̷̷̷ ⋆⁺₊⋆ #aot x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yaeger x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #aot angst #aot fluff #aot smut #aot imagines #attack on Titan x reader

[itsbeeble]

LET LOOSE

SUMMARY: Younghoon has hated you since the day he met you. He thought you were stuck up with that better-than-you princess attitude of yours. What better than to just…fuck it right out of you?

GENRE: smut, fluff, angst, crack

PAIRING: Kim Younghoon x afab!reader (ft. eric)

WC: 5.3K

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: Swearing, public sex, floor sex, academic rivals that everyone knows secretly want to fuck, enemies to lovers, missionary (that's a first wow), sexual references, mentions of alcohol, insults (not sexual), arguments, pining, mentions of killing someone as a joke, dry humping for like two seconds, making out, mentions of marking, mentions of oral, guys i think this is the least slutty fic I've written for this series, y/n is stuck in a perpetual state of denial, let me know if I missed anything but i think that's it

A/N: Everyone allow me to introduce Doll's less-slutty cousin!! I can't believe we're over halfway through this collab omg. I'm really glad people are loving this and I hope you guys have been catching the easter eggs me and Fawn have been throwing into our fics 😏

If anyone asked you what you thought of when you thought of local star student, heartthrob, and frat boy Kim Younghoon, you would scoff and cross your arms over your chest. 

“I hate him,” you would say, your lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed until they were practically touching. “I hope his house burns to the fucking ground.” 

One would think this was a gross overreaction, that you probably held a grudge over something stupid, or that he killed your dog or maybe he copied off your essay but made it seem like you were the one who plagiarized. And oh, how that would’ve been much simpler. 

The true story, however, goes all the way back—

“Thinking about me again?” A hand cracks down on the desk in front of you, your mind and body jerking back to reality. 

There he is, you think to yourself, the bane of my fucking existence. Your teeth are already grinding together, your grip tightening around the pencil you’d been using to write your notes and all he’s doing is standing there with a stupid fucking smirk. 

“Why would I be thinking of you?” You bite out and Younghoon places a hand over his heart in mock hurt.

“Ouch, sweetheart.” Your body stiffens and your face contorts with disgust at the nickname.

“Don’t call me that, douchebag.” Younghoon sighs dramatically, dropping down to be at eye level with you. 

“So cruel to me,” a pout, and then he’s smirking again. “What if I was into that, sweetheart?” 

You might throw up.

“What do you want?” you groan, noting how other students have begun to flood out of the lecture hall while you’re putting your things away. Younghoon shrugs, rising to his feet at the same time as you. Had you been a weaker woman, his height would’ve had your knees wobbling and your panties hitting the ground but, fortunately, you were a strong woman. Some of your friends couldn’t relate to that despite your very clear and very much valid hatred for him. 

“I just wanted to see what you were up to,” he shoves his hands into his pockets, rocking back onto his heels. “Considering that we’re now partners for this assignment.”

Your heart drops into your stomach, your eyes widen, and your cheeks are fighting between going pale and burning bright as a tomato.

“What are you— what do you mean we’re partners?” You echo, and his smirk only widens. Your shoulder bashes into his arm while you make your way to the front of the lecture hall where the list of partners is posted. He trails behind you, long legs making it easy to keep pace despite how impossibly fast you seem to walk.

“Aren’t you so excited?” He sounds too excited about this, and you have to physically stop yourself from grabbing him by the neck and choking him where he stands. “We get to work together for the whole semester!”

“I still don’t see how this is a problem,” Dawon tells you her tongue running over her lip as she watches you pace the length of your dorm suite’s lounge area. “Isn’t he, like, super hot? And smart?”

Your lip curls into a sneer and you whip your body around to look at her.

“He is not hot,” your voice has raised in pitch, your arms waving frantically. “He’s— he’s stupid and— and annoying, and he doesn’t know how to shut up, and his face— oh his face is just so— so—”

“Kissable?” Suyeon offers when she makes her way over with a steaming mug of tea. 

“I think rideable is a better word,” Dawon grins at the way your jaw drops at the two of them. 

“He does have a very rideable—”

“Okay, enough!” You snap, your face beginning to burn bright red in anger.

“Ooh she’s blushing!” Suyeon giggles and your face only burns brighter. 

“You both are insufferable,” you throw yourself back onto the couch, your head turned toward the ceiling. “Kim Younghoon is annoying, stuck up, and his face is not kissable or rideable.” 

“So you’re saying you’ve thought about it before?” Suyeon presses and you roll your eyes.

“Hell no. Why would I think about that?”

“Because he’s your mortal enemy and everyone ends up fucking their mortal enemy at some point.”

“Plus he’s a yummy, scrumptious, daddy cupcake.”

“Ugh, so true Dawon.” Suyeon squeezes your roommate’s hand, the two of them grinning deviously at each other.

“That’s— did you just call him— No, that’s not the point. The point is, that’s not true!” You lift your head, eyes wide with horror. “That only happens in books!”

“Not just books,” Suyeon raises her mug to her lips with a hint of a smirk on her face. “Didn’t you hear about the KAT and TBZ presidents?” 

“Oh my god, Eric told me about that!” Dawon gasps. “Apparently they—”

“I don’t need to know the details of their sex lives.” You interrupt again. “God, you two are just…”

“Don’t you just love us?” Dawon winks at you, and you wrinkle your nose in distaste.

“Let’s not go that far.” Her lips twist, and the three of you go quiet for a moment. 

“Why do you even hate him?” 

Ah, there it is. The same question everyone had been asking since the day you started at this school. 

Why do you hate Kim Younghoon? 

“It’s complicated,” you tell them what you always say. You tell them that it’s nothing they should be concerned about. He knows what he did.

“Then uncomplicate it.” Suyeon is much softer than Dawon, her eyes furrowed but not with the mild irritation Dawon has. It’s more…concern than anything else, and for a moment you think about telling them. Think about dropping your petty act, let them know exactly what about Younghoon bothers you so much. 

You open your mouth, and the two girls in front of you lean forward expectantly, practically on the edge of the tiny couch that had been squeezed into the suite.

“I can’t.”

“That isn’t going to work, sweetheart.” Younghoon says, waltzing up to you after your failed attempt to talk your professor into letting you change partners or work alone. Your shoulders are slumped in defeat, something that Younghoon seems to laugh at. “You’re stuck with me.”

“I really hate you, Kim Younghoon.” You lift your head, wanting so desperately to glare at him but you can only find the strength to stare blankly. He kisses his teeth, eyebrows furrowing.

“That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?” 

“Who cares? It’s true.” 

You want to scream. You want to throw your body onto the ground and throw a tantrum, to cry and whine, to kick and punch the air—anything to get out of this situation. 

“All this because I got a better grade than you in one class in high school.” Younghoon shakes his head, his hair falling into his face and obscuring his eyes partially. Your heart thuds against your ribcage (because of the memory, obviously). 

“You really think that’s the only reason I hate you?” Hint: he’s right for once. Would you ever tell him that? No. As far as he knows, you have endless reasons to hate him. As long as he lives, that list will grow. In fact, it would be better if he knew that you’d be pissed if he died before you because that means he tried to escape one last competition, but you’d hate it even more if he died after you because that means he would win one last time.

“That’s all I can think of,” he shrugs and you kiss your teeth. 

“Disappointing me again, douchebag.” He scoffs at that.

“Of course I am. When am I not upsetting you about some bullshit?” 

Oddly, this time you don’t answer him. At least you don’t give him an answer to that question. 

“Listen, Kim Younghoon,” you place a hand on your hip, shifting your weight to lean mostly on one leg. He leans toward you a bit, slightly angling his head as if trying to hear you better. “You’re the most annoying, egotistical, snobbish boy I’ve ever met. You always have this, like, need to be better than me— than everyone.” 

Younghoon inhales, his eyebrows knitting together and his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. You can see the irritation in his gaze, can see him fighting the urge to snap at you and it has your stomach churning. When he finally responds, it’s not exactly what you expected. You thought he would snap back at you, tell you to go fuck yourself, to call you the same insults you just called him.

He doesn’t.

“Meet me in the library at 4 o’clock.” Your head jerks back, your nose wrinkling with confusion. 

“Excuse me?” Younghoon just smiles coyly, already turning away from you.

“Don’t you wanna get this project done so you don’t have to deal with me?” He can practically see the wheels turning in your brain, contemplating all your options. 

“I mean yeah, but how do you know if I’m even free—”

“You’re always at the cafe at the same time as me,” Younghoon glances down at you, stepping to the side as he pushes open the door of the lecture hall. You say nothing as you push by him. “I’m starting to think you’re obsessed with me, sweetheart.”

“That’s not— I would never— how—” You sputter, stumbling over your words and waving your hands in the air while you try to come up with something to say. Something to deny. Younghoon begins to smile again, coy and near-mocking. 

“I don’t hear you actively denying anything.” His eyes widen and he bends forward, lowering his face to be near yours. Your cheeks are heating up, your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. Words. You need words. Why is nothing coming out?

“Shut the hell up, douchebag.” He laughs and your stomach churns again. Is he laughing at you?

“I’ll see you at 4, sweetheart.” Younghoon starts to reach his hand toward you as he leans up, but thinks better of it and drops it back to his side. 

“Yeah, sure,” you scoff and turn your back to him.

Fucking prick.

“You have got to be kidding me,” You toss a stack of papers onto the table you’re sitting at, glaring at the notes Younghoon wrote on the whiteboard. He’d rented a study room for a few hours, giving you time to start working. 

Or, at least, try to start working. You had made no promises about not trying to kill him and making it so neither of you could get any work done. Although, you had thought about running him over with your car so that you would have an excuse to work on this alone.

The blinds over the door had been shut, blocking anyone from looking in and potentially seeing you try to kill a man. Lucky for you.

“What’s so wrong with what I wrote?” He squints at the board and you push yourself out of the old, creaky chair you’d been sitting in. 

“It’s contradictory!” You complain, reaching around him for the eraser. He grabs your hand before you can do anything, turning on you with a scathing glare. 

“It’s not, though!” 

His grip tightens on your wrist when you pull it away. You narrow your eyes, but he doesn’t waver at all. There’s heat behind his gaze, heat that makes you nervous. You know he won’t hurt you, that’s not who he is. The heat though…that makes you nervous. It’s the same heat you’d felt several times in the past few weeks. 

“Let me go, Kim Younghoon.” He leans his head toward yours and your throat begins to close, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Not until you tell me why it’s contradictory!” He snaps. You swear your ears start to ring, your vision closing in until all you can see is Younghoon. 

“It’s— why does it matter so much to you?” His grip finally loosens and you rip away from him with a huff. 

“Because you’re putting down my work! Again!” He flings his hands into the air and you bite your tongue. “Why do you hate me so much?”

A lump in your throat, tears in your eyes, and Younghoon drops your hand. He looks defeated, his shoulders slumping and his lips set into a deep frown. 

“I just,” Younghoon sits in his chair, the old wood creaking under his weight. You stand in the middle of the study room, hands by your sides and your eyes flicking around nervously. Your posture is so tense compared to his, your eyes flitting around anxiously. “I’m tired of this shit. Not knowing what the fuck I did wrong. You never give me a reason and, at first, I was fine with it. I liked the casual rivalry. But now I’m just…it’s been four years, and I still don’t know what I did.”

“Choi Yuna.” It comes out fast, the name of your ex-best friend. So fast that Younghoon doesn’t catch it, he just stares at you with a look of pure confusion.

“What?”

You say her name slower this time, tugging at the edge of your shirt. “Choi Yuna, you dated her from freshman year until late sophomore year.” 

“Okay, yeah,” he leans forward with his elbows on his knees. “What does she have to do with this?” 

Your cheeks are burning, and you know he can see it. See how flustered you are.

“She was my best friend.” You bite on your tongue, trying to find the right words. 

“I know,” he said, and you purse your lips. “She talked about you all the time.”

“That’s funny,” you scoff, a spark of anger returning to your tone and to your facial features. “Considering she’s the reason I hated you for so long.”

“What are you talking about, sweetheart?” Younghoon huffs, rubbing at his eyes with his palms. You can tell he’s frustrated, so you speak quicker.

“She— she knew that I liked you.” His eyes snap up, wide and bulging. “She knew that I wanted to ask you out in freshman year, so she made sure to get there first. I— at first I thought that you knew that’s why she did it.”

“You thought that I knew your best friend wanted—” Younghoon huffs and rises to his feet. 

“Just—” You hold up your hands as he begins to step toward you, slowly backing you into the wall. “Just let me talk. I thought you knew, yes. She told me that you asked her out first and that she just— she just agreed. So yeah, I started to hate you. I started arguing with you and every answer you gave in class because I was just so…angry at— at everything, at myself.”

Your back is against the wall now, and you’re slowly curling in on yourself as Younghoon gets closer. 

“And…?” he cocks an eyebrow and your swallow thickly.

“By the time I realized that it was all her….at that point it was just easier to keep hating you. To keep everything at bay.”

“Everything?” He echoes and had you been looking at his face instead of his chest, you would’ve seen the smirk you’d always claimed to hate plastered onto his face. 

“Yes,” you groan and lift your head. Your breathing hitches in your throat, your body pushing even closer to the wall when you finally see just how close Younghoon is to you. 

Just a few inches from your face is his own, his eyes dancing from your eyes to your lips. His breathing is, compared to yours, slow and even. Inhale, hold, exhale. You can see his chest rising and falling with the rhythm. 

“Why—” you clear your throat. “Why are you so close to me, Younghoon?”

“No legal name this time?” He murmurs, one of his hands coming up to rest on the wall beside your head. His head dips down and now his lips are brushing against yours, every breath you take mixing with his. “What happened?”

“I just— you’re a little close to me.” Your hand presses on his chest, but it's as if you aren’t even trying to push him away. “We— we probably shouldn’t.”

Younghoon kisses his teeth, shaking his head at your suggestion. Arguably, it’s a wise choice, but right now he has you exactly where he wants you. If he lets you leave now, who’s to say you won’t pack your bags and take a one-way flight to Brazil?

“I’ve been waiting,” he says and you squeeze the hand on his chest into a fist. “For three years for you to get your head out of your ass. I’m not letting you go now that I have you.”

“Have me?” Your tone shifts into one of challenge rather than the nervous air you’d surrounded yourself with. “If anything, I have you, Kim Younghoon.”

You yank him to you by his shirt, reaching up on your tip toes to place a firm kiss on his plush lips. You hear a groan rumbling in his throat, the hand not on the wall wrapping around your waist and squeezing tightly. Your lips mesh together, but it isn’t messy. It’s slow, calculated just like every move either of you had made against each other. Every argument, every challenge. The build-up. It all led to this, and you’re not letting him go this time. He’s yours and Choi Yuna can’t take him this time. 

With a new fervor, both of your hands come to lace into his thick strands of black hair, effectively trapping his lips against yours. He drops the hand that was on the wall, both hands now on your waist and sipping under the loose fabric of your shirt. You gasp at the cold feeling of his hands on your skin, and he takes that opportunity to sneak his tongue into your mouth. It’s experimental, the way his tongue caresses yours, pushing gently and letting you suck at the warm muscle. He listens to the pretty little whimper you let out when he does the same thing in return and a shiver runs down his spine. His hand slides up the back of your shirt, emerging from the collar and lacing into the strands of your hair. 

Air. You had to come up for air. You needed to breathe. Your lungs are aching, but fuck his lips are addicting. They’re soft, and warm, and they feel so good against yours. 

Your knees cave slightly, your mind going fuzzy and Younghoon rips away from you to steady your body, his knee shoved between your legs to help keep you upright. 

“Sweetheart,” his tone is lighthearted, but you know he’s scolding you. “You need to learn to breathe. I’m not leaving just because you need some air.” 

A pretty little whine escapes you, but Younghoon is quick to realize that it’s not because you can’t find the words to respond to him. Well, if you think about it, that kind of was the reason. 

Your hips are rolling down on his knee, your hands gripping his shoulder for dear life as you ride his thigh. Your head is rolled to the side, your eyes squeezed shut as you try to find the right pace and the right amount of pleasure to ease your arousal. Younghoon’s jaw drops, and he feels his dick twitch in his pants at the sight of you trying so desperately to relieve yourself on him. Unfortunately for you, he notes, your jeans seem to be in the way of you achieving your pleasure. 

“Sweetheart,” he coos but his voice is shaky and he thanks god that you’re too far gone to notice. “Look at you, trying so hard to get yourself off.” 

You whine, and his breathing hitches when you try to ride him even harder. 

“Is it not enough?” He presses and your eyes fly open with the quick nod of your head. But then you shake it, and his heart clenches at the confused furrow of your brow.

“‘S not!” You whine. “Need more, Hoonie.” 

He smiles when you reach one of your hands down, undoing the button of your jeans and trying desperately to shove them down as far as they can physically go without interrupting your ministrations. To your dismay, they barely get anywhere before Younghoon has to set you down and starts to tug them down your legs gently. 

You never thought you would enjoy watching a man get down on his knees for you, never thought you could have this much of a reaction to it. Younghoon though…the sight of him looking up at you through his lashes, the nearly pathetic look in his eyes when he sees just how soaked your panties are— it’s enough to have you practically crumbling to the ground, your lips crashing against his again and forcing him back to lay on the ground. 

His hands are everywhere— your hair, your hips, your ass, anywhere he can reach. He squeezes the soft flesh of your ass when your lips trail down his neck, sucking little marks into the skin and pulling groans and quiet whimpers from his throat. 

Your hands run under his shirt, and he weakly tries to help you push it over his head to be tossed somewhere else. You shush him, a playful look in your eye as you place a finger on his lips. 

“Gotta be quiet now,” you unbutton his jeans, slowly dragging them and his boxers down and he lifts his hips to help you slide them down to his knees. He doesn’t bother with your shirt but makes quick work of your bra and shoves it up. You’re sliding your panties down your legs when he shoves his hands under your shirt, squeezing and tugging at the soft mounds of flesh on your chest. A quiet moan at the feeling of him tugging at your nipples, and his hands falter momentarily when you wrap your hand around the base of his cock.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he teases and you scoff while lining him up with your sopping wet pussy. You know he’s big, both of you do, but you’d never admit that to his face. Never admit that you’re nervous about taking it all in, nervous that you won’t be able to take him at all.

“As if your little dick could possibly hurt me—” your voice catches and he watches with strained amusement as you begin to sink down on him. Your walls are tight around him, practically squeezing the life out of his poor cock while you try so desperately to keep sliding down on him. Younghoon pulls his hands out of your shirt, sliding them down to your hips and gently rubbing them as a means to ease your discomfort.

“What were you saying about my little dick?” Younghoon sneers and you have to fight back the whine that threatens to slip out of you. He’s just over halfway in when you force yourself to give up, the stretch beginning to be too much for you to handle. “I could’ve prepped you, y’know? Made this easier for us both.”

You can only lower your head onto his shoulder, biting harshly into the skin while he flips you around and pushes your legs up toward your chest. 

“Hold these here, sweetheart.” You do as he says, gasping sharply when he begins to sink into you. 

“Fuck, Younghoon!” 

“Shhh,” he kisses you gently while continuing to press into you, using the width of his shoulders to gently spread your legs a bit further apart. “‘M almost there, I promise.”

“‘S too much,” you whimper, a tear slipping out of your eye and dripping onto the carpeted floor below you. “‘S too much, Hoonie.”

“I know sweetheart,” he coos and looks down at where the two of you are connected. He fights the sudden urge to cum when he sees the fluttering of your walls, sees them clenching around him, and trying to force him out. “I’m almost there.” 

Another whine from you and he quickly slides the last three inches into you, clapping a hand over your mouth to muffle the scream you release. He stays still for a moment, listening to the sound of you sniffling, and turns his head briefly to look at the door. A shadow passes by and he exhales quietly. 

“And you were worried about me being too loud. Who’s the one with a hand over her mouth, hm?” You can’t don’t respond and Younghoon pulls out entirely, leaving just the tip inside of you, and when you whine and let go of one of your legs to reach out for him, he sinks into you in one harsh thrust. 

The moan you let out behind Younghoon’s hand is guttural, and your back arches off the floor. His thrusts are rapid, yet he doesn’t falter in pattern. He sinks deep inside of you, punching into you so deep that you swear he’s going to hit your cervix. He lets his hand drop from your mouth listening to the way you try to hold back your noises. Every whine, every whimper and moan and cry, you try so hard for him. 

“Such a good girl,” he coos. “Keeping quiet and letting me fuck her real good.” His voice is so quiet, the words practically hissed into your ear and it’s so hot that your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

Your grip on your legs loosens and then your hands drop them entirely, letting them fall onto his sturdy shoulders. He watches as both of your hands disappear under your shirt and he feels a pang of irritation as you begin to play with your nipples. They draw sharper noises out of you, higher in pitch and slightly louder. Although, Younghoon can’t complain when the combined pleasure has your cunt fluttering around him and fresh waves of arousal washing through you to make it easier for him to fuck in and out of you.

“Hoon,” your whine is loud. Too loud. “So close, please!” 

Younghoon hushes you again, his hand running up the side of your leg and squeezing at the flesh of your thigh. 

“I know, sweetheart,” he tells you. “You gotta be quiet f’ me. Gotta be quiet so nobody walks in, okay?” 

“I can’t.” You sob out and Younghoon pushes himself closer to you, practically folding you in half so he can kiss you. You open up immediately, whining and letting him slide his tongue in for you to suck on.

Younghoon’s hips begin to stutter, his body shaking against yours, but you’re closer. Your body spasms, and you nip at his tongue to keep him close to you while you cum. Younghoon grunts at the combined feeling of your bites and the clenching of your walls around his length. It’s all a bit too much and it only takes a few more thrusts before he’s shuddering and collapsing against you, spilling ropes of white hot cum inside of you. 

He can feel the combination of his and your cum beginning to squeeze out of you around the tight fit of his dick inside of you, but he doesn’t have the strength to pull out of you just yet. You’ve stopped biting at him, your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth slowly sucking at the warm muscle he continues to provide you. 

Your body is sore, your thighs aching and likely bruised when you walk into your dorm a few hours later. You hadn’t gotten any work done after that, spending the rest of the time making out in a chair and grinding on each other like some damn horny teenagers. You know you’re a disaster, but you’re more than content with that knowing that Younghoon looks the same (if not worse). 

When the door clicks shut, it’s dark in the suite and you silently thank god that Dawon and Suyeon are asle—

“Where the fuck have you been?”

The lights flick on to reveal your two friends at the counter in the suite’s living area. Dawon looks furious, but Suyeon looks like she just wants to go to be. You grimace, dropping your bag off your shoulder and onto the ground next to you. 

“Out.” Your voice is hoarse and you grimace. You imagine your throat is a little bit bruised from…things.

“Doing what.” Dawon snaps.

“Or who, judging by the looks of you.” Suyeon clicks her tongue and rises from the couch. “Look at you! It looks like someone tried to eat you!” 

Dawon squints at you, and you turn your gaze to the floor. 

“You fucked him, didn’t you?” She inquires, but you both already know the answer. 

“Who?” Suyeon frowns. “Who did she fuck?”

Your nose wrinkles, and you turn to her with a look that says I think you know. Suyeon tilts her head, her eyebrows knitting together in thought. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” 

“Oh. OH— OH MY GOD—”

The Tau Beta Zeta frat house isn’t as bad as you thought it would be. At least not party-wise. The moment you and your friends walk in, you’re engulfed in noise, drunk partygoers, and scattered members of the frat. In one corner you can see what looks like two members of the frat making out with their girlfriends. Haknyeon and Changmin, Dawon said, Too bad they couldn’t find a private space. Damn exhibitionists. A smile quirks on your lips just slightly. Oh, if only she knew the truth.

You barely acknowledge her, however, scanning the room for Younghoon. 

“Eric!” You grab the passing boy by the arm and he jerks to a stop, nearly spilling the contents of two cups. 

“Yo!” He grins at you, and you can just faintly see the crinkle of his eyes under the red baseball cap of his. “What’s up?”

“Have you seen Younghoon?” Eric purses his lips in thought.

“You aren’t gonna kill him, right?” You laugh and so does he.

“No, not anymore. Or…I might if he doesn’t show up soon—”

“BOO!” Someone’s hands wrap around your waist lifting you off the ground and spinning you as you scream for him to put you down. Eric slips away, casting his eyes behind him to watch you and Younghoon as he approaches a girl in the corner. 

“Kim Younghoon!” You snap, swatting him upside the head. Your boyfriend smirks at you, bending down to try and give you a kiss that you block. “Don’t kiss me, you douche! That wasn’t funny!”

“It was kinda funny,” he laughs, swooping in to give a kiss that you choose not to block this time. It’s deep and slow, and he tilts his head to get a better taste of you when you bring your hand to the back of his neck. 

“Mmm, I think I like it when you don’t hate me.” He murmurs when he pulls back, grinning wickedly when you place a kiss on the corner of his mouth. 

“Do you now?” 

“Mhm.”

“Shouldn’t have scared me then.” You scowl, turning away from him and beginning to stalk away. He scrambles after you, frantically trying to keep up despite the crowd. 

“Where are you going?” He whines, grasping at your fingertips. You turn your head, a coy smile playing on your lips. 

“We gotta let loose, don’t we? We’re a little tense right now.” 

A puddle of drool is practically forming in Younghoon’s mouth and he’s suddenly in front of you, moving with a renewed fervor. 

When the door of the third bedroom on the right of the third floor shuts and clicks locked, nobody questions it. Not the thumping, nor the loud grunts and moans. 

When someone needs to let loose, people know better than to interrupt. Especially when it’s Younghoon and his former-crush-turned-enemy-turned-girlfriend.

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

#blackoutorbackout🍻 #itsbeeble #reese's works 📩 #reese's pieces 🗞️ #reese's moots #ally~ ⛄️ #fawn~ 🧼 #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop smut #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop x reader #the boyz #the boyz imagines #the boyz x reader #the boyz fluff #the boyz smut #the boyz angst #kim younghoon #younghoon imagines #younghoon x reader #younghoon smut #younghoon fluff #can you guys tell that i cried writing this #almost didn't finish in time #actually i rewrote it like five times #couldn't get it quite right #but be glad it's not 10k jesus christ

[tddyhyck]

ice cream thief (preview)

read ⇢ here

pairing ⇢ annoying roommate! haechan x afab!reader

wc ⇢ est. 5kish (12.8k)

synopsis ⇢ someone has been eating haechan’s favorite ice cream so he decides to put a hidden camera in the kitchen and living room thinking it’s a shared space it shouldn’t invade anyones privacy

warnings ⇢ smut, invasion of privacy, voyeur!haechan, perv! haechan, masturbation, toys, hidden camera, spit, (more with full release)

tracker

He gets a notification on his phone of detected movement grinning; he opens it quickly waiting for the app to load. Before he sees you sitting on the couch, knees to your chest twirling something in your mouth. He grins convinced he had caught the ice cream thief. He started his car ready to rush home and catch you in the act. That is until you pull it out of your mouth. Squinting bringing his phone closer to make sure it is his ice cream his eyes widen when he realizes It’s not his ice cream but a dildo of some sort.

You wouldn't, there's no way you would in the living room. His mouth hung open watching you bring the toy back to your lips. He was surprised by the camera quality when he could see your spit dribbling down the toy and collecting at the corners of your mouth.

He should have closed his phone and put it on silent never to be thought of again, but he can’t look away, he knows it’s wrong but he can’t stop staring.

He gaped when you opened your knees and moved one hand between your legs flipping your skirt up revealing some light blue panties. He’s sure he’s seen them in your hamper or when you accidentally left them in the wash that one time. He watched as your hand slithered between your legs pressing against your heat, squinting in surprise seeing a dark spot growing under your hand.

His eyes were moving quickly trying to take in the entire scene watching you with one hand over your panties the other swirling the silicone between your lips. He can’t believe you of all people would be getting off in the living room knowing any of your roommates could walk in. Little miss goody two shoes had a thing for exhibitionism he smirked.

You moved the toy from your lips, a line of spit still connected until the toy slid over your panties. He gasped when you moved your hand from between your legs to pull your shirt up tits falling out.

He had seen you naked a few times completely accidentally of course. One time when he walked in the bathroom while you were changing before turning around swiftly and averting his eyes while you cursed him out. It was your fault for not locking the door. Or when Johnny’s frat had a pool party and your swimsuit came untied during a game of chicken. Nipples hard and perked from the cool water and right in front of his face. He recalls the pink that rose to your cheeks and chest when you realized before your hands covered up quickly.

He remembers how he couldn’t get your cute nipples off his brain for like a week after. It pissed him off how you walked around the house braless nipples pointed right in his face. You were also the bane of his existence you were so annoying and difficult but so fucking hot but you pissed him off with your bratty attitude. But he loved the way you scolded him and grabbed and pulled his hair when he went too far, or when you yelled at him and called him names with an angry blush on your cheeks all because he had spoiled the new season of stranger things.

He shook his head before pressing his palm to his face and rubbing his eyes. He should turn it off. There's no going back if he keeps watching, but he just couldn’t look away. He had to make a decision and he did, taping the full screen icon in the corner, turning off his car, and sitting back to watch.

He wished it was his hand tweaking your nipples, making you sigh and bite your lip. He was too busy staring at them to notice you click a button on your toy before pressing it to your clothed clit and grind against it. His eyes trailed down when he noticed the movement. He felt his mouth water when the darkness grew in your panties.

You had to stop yourself wanting to be filled up before you came. You pulled your toy away and moved your hand from your nipples to pull your panties to the side. You could feel how sticky and wet you were. You wished it was someone else between your legs a warm body fucking your open.

#nct dream smut #haechan x reader #haechan smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut #donghyuck x reader #donghyuck smut #hyuck smut #hyuck x reader #roommate haechan

[bimrwolf]

The Things We Don't Say

steve harrington x afab!reader words: 17,418 warnings: smut ! 18+ (minors dni) summary: Steve Harrington once was the bane of Y/n's existence. He had always been an arrogant asshole and a terrible kisser. She never understood how others fell for the boy's eye-roll worthy charm. Now it seems like he will do anything to prove her wrong about anything. a/n: this is my first steve fic and it turned into a very long one shot

There was something sweet when it was the time of year that it wasn’t too cold to be winter nor too warm to be Spring. The leaves on the trees began to grow back to their vibrants green. Dandelions started to sprout on the side of the roads. Lawns needed to be mowed from the cool showers that casted over Hawkins, Indiana. 

Sweaters, cold cheeks, and hot tea, sitting on her porch swing, watching the sunset and streetlights cast their glow on the streets, telling children it’s their time to retreat back into their homes to get rested for the next day— to do it all over again. In Hawkins, it sometimes felt like the day repeated itself. 

Graduation was creeping around the corner. College rejection letters flooded her mailbox. Choices were slimming down every week. 

Maybe if she had focused better in school.

That’s why she found herself on a chilly Saturday evening with her friend, Heather Holloway, at Daniel Brown’s house. 

It was a small gathering. Soft music, beer, and the smell of weed and cigarettes. A few couples making out in dark corners. People who would never interact at school making out in the backyard next to the crackling bonfire. High school was weird. 

Heather only wanted to come because Daniel and her had gone on two dates and now suddenly she believed the two of them were going to be married. 

Y/n didn’t despise parties, she always went to them if she were invited, but they only seemed fun when she was plastered and couldn’t remember anything. Too bad she was the designated driver tonight. 

She pulled at the shirt she wore as the two of them stood in the corner, silently gossiping at who was there, and who was with who. Heather swatted her hand. “Stop. I told you already. You look great.” 

She groaned. “You’re legally obliged to say that because you’re my friend.” She didn’t care what she looked like, but today was a day where her clothes seemed to snug her, making her feel uncomfortable and awkward. 

“Wasn’t Billy with Vanessa on Monday?” Heather motioned toward the couch. Billy Hargrove had his hand dangerously close to Penny Melton’s privates, nibbling her ear. 

“Are you that surprised?” She gave Heather a knowing look. 

The front door opened, bringing in a wave of cold air that stung her cheeks. She rolled her eyes at who walked in. 

A perky boobed brunette with rosy cheeks and small hips sauntered in. Right behind her, Steve Harrington, his hand around her shoulders. His dark locks were styled in his signature updo, a tiny loose curl clinged to his forehead. 

The couple walked past them, and she couldn’t help but smirk at their visible similarities. “Hey, Harrington. Didn’t know you had a sister.” 

The girl looked up at Steve, gasping, tearing away from him and storming off. Steve threw his head back. He looked at her, not amused. “Can you not be unbearable for once?” He asked her. 

“Be careful not to step too close to the fire outside. Hairspray is flammable, y’know?” She gave him a cheeky grin. 

Steve paid no mind, storming off to find his date. 

“Remind me why you hate Steve so much?” Heather asked in amusement. 

“Since he ditched you to swap spit with Kelly Sullivan.” She answered. 

“That was sophomore year.” Heather stated. 

“Freshman.” She corrected her. 

Heather held out her arms dramatically. “See! It’s not a big deal. I don’t even remember. If I kissed him now, I feel like I would be kissing all the girls in Hawkins.” 

Y/n gagged at the description. “Ew. You dodged a bullet.” 

“Rumor has it that he’s not a douche anymore. I don’t know what that Nancy girl did to him, but apparently he’s a saint now.” Heather’s words sounded like a joke. 

Y/n nudged Heather. They watched Billy grab Penny’s hand and led her upstairs. 

She wished the couch hadn’t been infested with sex germs so she could sit down. Her feet were killing her. 

Heather took a sip of her beer she had in her hand. Wiping her mouth, she then tapped her chin, thinking. “He was your first kiss.” 

“Who?” Y/n was caught off guard. “Oh. Well, that’s a memory I suppress into the back of my mind. Worst kiss of my life.” 

“Not what you said in eighth grade. I can’t believe he took your wet dream virginity.” Heather sighed. “I remember my first like it was yesterday. Harrison Ford could do anything to me.” 

“I’m never telling you anything again.” She bounced off the wall and walked to the table full of beverages and snacks. She picked up a bottle of water. Heather had followed her, leaning against the table. 

“Admit it. You have no reasonable explanation to hate Steve Harrington.” Her friend took a chip out of one of the bowls, popping it in her mouth. 

“I don’t even hate him. He’s just insufferable, arrogant, and a bad kisser.” She needed fresh air from this interrogation. “Don’t you need to go find Daniel or something like that.” 

“Your lack of knowledge about flirting is astounding. My plan is to be here, look cute, and then leave. When he sees me Monday at school, he’ll ask me why we didn’t talk tonight.” 

Y/n was grateful that the conversation had moved elsewhere. “That’s not even flirting.” She led them to the backyard where most everyone was. She noticed Steve had made up with his date— his tongue was down her throat. 

“How would you know?” Heather questioned, scanning the yard, smiling when she noticed Daniel over by a group of his friends. She pushed up her boobs and laughed loudly like Y/n had said something hilarious. She frowned when he didn’t look their way. 

As the night went on more laughter and conversations were told into the chill air. It felt good to be young. 

—

Y/n was not having a good summer. Heather was the only one between the two of them who was hired at the pool. 

Summer was now the last bit of time Y/n would get to spend with her before Heather went off to NYU. 

Y/n’s grades only managed to get her into a community college about forty-five minutes outside of Hawkins. So, she felt like she wasn’t even leaving. 

Although she managed to get a job at the Gap at the newly opened Starcourt mall, their schedules seemed to never align. 

It was one particular day that Y/n finally had a day off. She didn’t feel like going to the pool. Or doing much of anything. She wanted to lie in her room and read her newest magazine with a cold glass of lemonade. But instead she found herself in the parking lot of Starcourt. 

This was her new hobby. She would browse all the stores, pick up things she wanted and place them back because she was saving her money. Then she would go bother her co-workers for a few minutes, sometimes buying an item she had been eyeing for the past few weeks. She did get an employee discount after all. Then she would head out and go home to get ready for the next day. 

But on this particular day as she passed the food court, one of the shops caught her attention. It was a small shop, decorated in red, white, and blue. The front of a boat was next to the entrance. Y/n had heard good things about Scoops Ahoy. Some even rivaled it with Baskin-Robbins. 

She entered the shop, eyeing the striped walls and checkered flooring. The theme was cute. She had seen a glimpse of their uniforms when workers would walk by the store, and she was glad the Gap let her wear what she wanted. 

She got behind a girl with curly blonde hair, and she was giggling at whatever the cashier was saying. Five minutes had gone by and the girl hadn’t moved yet. Y/n peered over the girl’s shoulder, and nearly doubled over in laughter. 

Steve Harrington was on the other side of the counter, leaned over, and wore that silly sailor uniform. He looked ridiculous. It almost made up for waiting almost seven minutes to get a damn scoop of ice cream. Y/n sighed. She guessed she would have to take matters into her own hands. 

She pushed past the girl, who let out a large huff, almost dropping the ice cream cone in her hand. “Stevie!” Y/n squealed, wrapping her arms around his neck, planting a wet sloppy kiss on his cheek. 

Steve’s face was priceless. His eyes nearly popped out of his sockets and mouth agape. “Wha-” 

He didn’t even get to finish because Y/n pushed his jaw back up. “Sweetheart, you’ll catch flies.” She turned around to face the girl who looked pissed. “Sorry, haven’t seen my boyfriend in a few days. He’s getting over mono.” 

The girl let out a sound of disgust, pivoting on her heels and stormed out of the ice cream parlor. 

Y/n’s face fell and quickly let go of Steve. “Okay, now that the horrendous sight of Steve Harrington trying to flirt is over with. Can you tell me the specials?” 

Her attention was dragged to a pair of tiny doors opening behind him. A girl with medium length brown hair held a board with one side being You Rule and the other being You Suck. There were three tallies on the You Suck side. She drew another, making it four. “Some girlfriend, dingus.”

Steve looked embarrassed and livid all at the same time when he turned back around to look at Y/n. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Is this you breaking up with me?” Y/n clutched her chest. 

“Isn’t there a sign outside that says no pests?” He asked her. 

“Didn’t know they were so desperate for workers they allowed dipshits to apply.” 

His co-worker let out a cackle. Y/n noticed her name tag said Robin. “Oh, I like her, Harrington. Can I keep her?” 

He growled, moving over to the freezer that held the ice cream. “Just pick a flavor.” 

Y/n ignored Steve and focused on the girl. “I can’t believe someone took my job on being the bane of Steve’s existence.” 

Robin shrugged. “He makes it so easy.”

“I know, right?” She laughed with her. 

Steve coughed. 

She rolled her eyes and looked at him. Robin retreated into the backroom. “So, is it true you’re not a pretentious dick anymore?”

“I guess you could say that.” Steve answered, averting his eyes elsewhere. There seemed to be a shade of pink that pricked his cheeks and nose. 

“Does that mean you bring girls back to your place on the second date instead of the first?” 

He didn’t answer. 

She sighed, looking up at the menu above him with all the flavors and combinations. “I would ask what you would recommend, but I feel like it’s vanilla.” 

He gave her a sarcastic ha. 

He thought for a moment before taking a scoop and making a cone of a golden brown ice cream, dark chocolate pieces poking out. “Here.” He walked to the cash register and held it over the counter. 

“What is it?” Y/n narrowed her eyes. 

“Ice cream.” Steve replied in a “duh” tone. He pushed it closer for her to take. 

“Obviously.” She mumbled, taking it out of his hand. His fingers grazed hers, and she swore she felt a tingle.  “Peanut Butter Cluster Delight.” He stood back, crossing his arms. Y/n took note on how his biceps hugged the sleeves of his uniform. She took a bite, the many flavors almost seemed overwhelming at first, but then they melted together smoothly against her tongue. She wouldn’t admit it to Steve, but he chose something delightful and delicious. 

His face was scrunched up, cringing. “You bite your ice cream?” 

“Shut up. How much do I owe you?” She dug into her back pocket to pull out some money. 

Steve held out a hand, stopping her. “It’s on me.” 

“You poisoned it. That’s what’s going on, isn’t it?” Y/n was somewhat convinced he had done something to it. Yet, she took another bite. 

He smirked. “No, but what kind of boyfriend would I be if I made you pay?”

She almost smiled. Almost.

—

Y/n never expected to find herself physically fighting her best friend. She tried her best calling her name, reminding her who she was. She recounted stories and memories, but when she looked into Heather’s eyes. There was nothing but a cold dark stare. 

Nancy Wheeler tried to warn her Heather would come after her. But she didn’t believe her. 

When she arrived home after work, there Heather was, sitting on Y/n’s bed. Everything about her was different. Her stoic expression, straight posture, the black protruding veins in her neck. 

“It will only hurt a little.” Whoever was possessing Heather said, as it pinned Y/n against her bedroom floor. 

Y/n turned her head, sobbing, staring at the shaggy carpet. She could see dirty socks and loose change scattered. Would the old pink nail polish stain be the last thing she saw when she died? She closed her eyes, thinking about her favorite things. Hot tea with honey. The warm buttery vanilla smell that engulfed the house when her mother made cookies. The cold nights she spent on her porch swing. Peanut Butter Cluster Delight flavored ice cream. The smell of sea salt soap that reminded her of the beach. Laughing with her best friend about stupid boys. Crying with her best friend about moving off. 

She snapped her eyes open. This was not Heather. Y/n screamed, lifting her hand up and whacking the creature’s head, forcing the thing to fly off her body. 

Almost on cue, her bedroom door flew open. Nancy and her boyfriend Jonathan Byers stormed in holding weapons. She was dragged out of her house and forced to hide with them in a cabin in the middle of the woods with a bunch of kids. She tried to wrap her mind around this world they had been living in while she was worried about simple things like what to wear and who was kissing who. The life she had been living suddenly felt mundane and meaningless compared to theirs. 

It was even more mind boggling when a slimy creature broke through the cabin and this girl– Eleven– used her mind to fight off a slimy tentacled creature. Y/n felt dazed as she stood off to the side, watching these people fight it so nonchalantly. Like it was their job. 

They made a new safe haven in the supermarket so they could clean Eleven’s very large cut on her leg. Y/n felt queasy as the blood oozed and sputtered out. She broke off with Nancy and Jonathan, off to find soap and water. “So, this thing,” Y/n began. “You’ve fought it before?” 

Nancy shared a look with Jonathan. “Listen, you’re just here so we can protect you from becoming like Heather. Possibly, from turning into that thing you saw.”

Y/n’s jaw ticked. “That didn’t answer my question.”

Nancy sighed, handing the water and soap to Jonathan and motioning for him to keep going. “No. Well, maybe. But it’s different now. It’s too complicated, and it’s best if you don’t get involved.”

She scoffed. “It’s a little too late for me not to be involved.” 

Before the oldest Wheeler could answer, sounds of Mike yelling could be heard. The two of them jogged over to see what the issue was. 

Next thing Y/n knew, they were heading back to the one place she felt like she couldn’t escape.

She led them through a secret hallway to the upstairs when they noticed a group of men dressed in black with guns. Mike whispered he could see his friend that they were looking for, and the gunmen were going straight to them. There was a look of relief on the group downstairs when El made a car crash into the strangers. 

Although she had just seen a real life monster and a girl with superpowers. Nothing shocked her more than seeing no other than Steve Harrington in his stupid little sailor uniform, arguing with the group, letting Y/n know this wasn’t his first time either. 

When he noticed her standing meekly behind Nancy, he pointed at her, shaking his head. “Who the hell brought her along?” 

“Nice seeing you too, Harrington. What happened to your face? Lost a fight to a revolving door?” She shot back quickly. The kids all looked at one another. They were at a loss for words. 

“Jesus.” He groaned, running a hand through his already messy hair. “Cut me some slack. I was just drugged and beaten to a pulp by Russians. I don’t need your shit today.” 

Y/n let out a sorry. They all stared at her awkwardly, and suddenly she felt out of place. She excused herself and walked away. 

Robin had come after her a few moments later, a sympathetic look on her face. They weren’t exactly friends, Y/n would say, but they’ve hung out for a few weeks while on breaks. It was enough for Robin to make sure everything was okay. 

“You should have seen the shit I saw.” Y/n blew out a puff of air. “I think if I survive this, I’ll have to start smoking cigarettes.” 

“That’s gross, Plus you’ll ruin your beautiful teeth.” Robin chuckled. “You missed it though. That El girl… some weird ugly slug came out of her leg.” 

“Isn’t this all crazy? Like it’s almost unbelievable.” Y/n put her face into her hands. “And Harrington. Oh my god. He’s been through this before.” It hit her like a truck. His overnight shift in personality made better sense to her.  There was a time when he probably was hanging out in the streets, playing baseball with a neighbor, waiting for the street lamps to turn on, telling him to get back home. He might have turned into a douchebag, but when his life was threatened, he was reminded he was just a young boy. That’s what he was. Just a young boy learning to survive.

Her new perspective on the brown eyed boy with stupid hair forced her to be silent around him. She didn’t even make fun of him when he called himself daddy as they piled into a sweet looking car to drive Dustin so he could make a large range radio signal. 

Y/n felt like helping fight the monster was more bearable than sitting in the backseat and occasionally making eye contact with him. However, Nancy convinced her she didn’t want the chance of Heather finding her. Deep down, Y/n knew Nancy didn’t think she could fight off her best friend again. 

She was probably right. 

—-

There was a feeling Y/n had never experienced before. True gut wrenching heartbreak. The news that her best friend had perished in the end of the fight was like a knife had been twisted in her heart. She tried to remember quickly what Heather’s voice sounded like or the last time she had actually called to check on her. Her clouded mind failed her as she sat on the sidewalk, hugging herself. 

She didn’t realize Steve had sat down next to her, until he offered her a bottle of water. 

“Do you think they’ll mind if I call in sick tomorrow?” Y/n smiled weakly at her poor attempt to joke. 

Steve let out a breathy laugh. 

She noticed the blood on his face had dried, caking on his skin. It reminded her of last semester when he came to school with a black eye, and the year before that. She assumed it had been him fooling around with a girl that he shouldn’t have. Never did the idea of monsters from another dimension cross her mind. 

It was at that moment that her dislike for him bubbled down. She now felt respect. She wouldn’t tell him that though. 

Instead, she told him goodbye and got up to leave. She didn’t get too far before Steve called her name. “The first night is the hardest. When you’re all alone. It sucks.” He told her. 

To be honest, she hadn’t thought of it that way. Alone in her room— the room she nearly died in. Even when she blinked, the nightmare she had lived flashed before her eyes. “What do you suggest I do?” 

She wasn’t expecting a serious answer. She noticed the way his Adam’s apple bobbed. He was nervous. “You can stay with me. So you won’t be alone.” 

Y/n smirked. “I had it all wrong. Steve Harrington doesn’t even wait until the first date to invite a girl over.” 

Steve rolled his eyes. “Don’t cream your panties. Robin will be there too.” He started walking, leading her towards Robin. 

“This is your evil plan. Comforting us tonight so we'll play out your wildest fantasies?” It felt somewhat normal again, bantering back and forth. She knew he secretly enjoyed it by the way his lips tugged into a grin. She wouldn’t say it out loud, but she enjoyed it too. 

——

Y/n had only been to Steve’s house a handful of times. He hasn’t hosted a party since last year, and now she knows why. 

Although she was familiar with the living room, and swimming pool in the backyard, it felt different stepping into his room. It was tidy besides the clothes strewn across the floor. It was funny watching him quickly running around the room to put it in a laundry basket in his bathroom. 

They all took turns taking a shower, Robin, her, and then Steve. As soon as the water hit Y/n’s skin, it felt like the tension in her shoulders relaxed. It only took a few minutes for her to wash off, but she stood there, letting the warm water hit her back. She had picked up to read the different bottles in the bathroom. Tucked away in the corner, there was a soap bottle of Sea Salt Breeze. 

When she walked out of the bathroom, Robin was already passed out under the covers of his bed. Steve trekked inside the bathroom. 

Y/n sat with her back against his bed, knees against her chest, listening to the soft snores coming from Robin mixed with the patter of water coming from the shower. She heard him turn the shower off, his heavy footsteps padded around the bathroom. She heard a few curses and something clatter on the floor. 

It took her a moment to make the decision. She got up and softly tapped on the door. “Come in.” His voice was weak and hoarse. 

She opened the door slowly, revealing Steve in a pair of grey sweatpants and a navy sleep shirt. His hair was damp and brushed back out of his face. He had his palms against the counter, looking at his swollen eye and busted lip more closely. “Everything okay?” She sounded different to him. Concerned and gentle. 

He turned his head. “Yeah I’m fine.” 

She didn’t seem convinced by the way she crossed her arms against her chest and her eyebrow raised slightly. Steve sighed. “I just… I’m having a hard time getting this stupid contact lense out of my eye.” 

Y/n had to refrain from laughing. Not only for Robin’s sake but not to upset him even more. Her pinched lips made him groan. “I’m sorry!” She walked up to him, climbing up on the counter to sit. There she saw the case that held glasses with black frames, contact solution, and the contact holder. He must hide them from the wandering eye. “Do you need help?” 

He didn’t answer. 

He stood up straight and moved in front of her, leaning forward and widening his right eye. He winced because his left eye tried to widen with it. She told him to relax. Opening the eye up with her thumb and pointer finger with one hand, she used her other hand to pinch the contact out of his eyes, setting it in the holder with solution. When she turned her head back to face him, she realized how close he was. 

The last time they were like this was at Carol Perkin’s birthday party in eight grade. Y/n was more than nervous when the bottle landed on her in a game of seven minutes in heaven. He had a stupid grin plastered on his young freckled face. At that age, Steve had been everyone’s first school girl crush. He was goofy and charismatic. There was also that time in seventh grade he returned that pencil he borrowed. No one had returned her pencil before. 

Who wouldn’t want to kiss him? 

He still had those few freckles on his face. His breath still smells like mint toothpaste. His body still smelled like she was walking along the beach. His lips were chapped and cracked. She brushed her finger over the cut dangerously close to his bottom lip. “You need to clean that. You don’t want it getting infected.” 

He moved away from her, and she felt cold. 

He opened the mirror above the sink, pulling out a first aid kit, coming back and handing it to her. When she gave him a look, he shrugged. “Can’t see. Remember?” 

He stared at her as she took care of the wound. She knew he was. She could feel the hot blazed glare burning into her skin. It made her itch. 

When she finished, he stepped back and looked into the mirror again. “I won’t be able to step outside for weeks.” 

“Wear the glasses. People might be too distracted by those than your black eye.” She slid off the counter, patting his shoulder. No, she didn’t do it just to see how his muscles felt. 

Before she pulled away, Steve’s hand came up and was placed on top of hers. It was large and calloused, yet it was also gentle and warm. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she answered. 

“Does this make us friends now?” He asked, taking his hand away, facing her, leaning back onto the counter. 

Her eyes scanned over him, thinking to herself how odd the question was. Why did he care if they were friends? “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Harrington.” 

But when she laid on his bed that night, too afraid to sleep, her mind couldn’t help but think how her only friend was gone. She wouldn’t tell him, but maybe the idea of calling Steve her friend wasn’t as absurd as she thought. 

——

Winter had always been Y/n’s favorite season. The white glow of fluffy snow when she stepped outside or how icicles hung from above. Her house always smelled like gingerbread and pine needles. 

It wasn’t until she sat against hot concrete, feet dipped in the pool, watching Steve and Robin argue about diving techniques. It wasn’t until three weeks ago when Steve had asked the two of them to come over to swim and he had answered his front door in only his swim trunks. It wasn’t until this was now a ritual— every day she and Robin would arrive at Steve’s door, wearing their swimsuits under their clothes, holding a pack of beers from the corner store, carrying mischievous smiles. It wasn’t until some days, they would venture inside and put on a movie. Robin would make claim to the loveseat and Y/n had the couch. Steve laid his back on the floor, but on one occasion he plopped on the other side of her, propping his feet into Y/n’s lap. 

Although she was sad, and experienced something so traumatic, summer seemed to be irrevocably irreplaceable. The warm sun, melting popsicles that ran on her fingers making them sticky, staying out too late were all the things that made her feel young and in love with summer again. 

It sucked that they all were jobless, but none of their parents pushed for them to get a new one after everything that had happened. Also, it was Hawkins. The job market was slim to none. 

It was good to just be a kid again. 

Y/n laughed as Robin and Steve had gotten into a heated childish argument that resulted in her pushing Steve off the diving board. Y/n felt the drops of water hit her face and legs, but she didn’t care. Steve came back to surface, wiping his stinging eyes, swearing words that even sailors would wince at. He turned towards her, pretending to be angry that she was laughing too hard, swimming towards her. She yelled at him to leave her alone, kicking the water so it would splash him. He grabbed her ankles so she would stop. 

She leaned her head forward, peering over the Ray Ban sunglasses she had– borrowed– from Steve. Water beaded on his forehead. His wet hair clung to his face. His nose was pink from the sun, exaggerating the tiny freckles that kissed his face. The sun cast a golden glow on his tan skin. “Help me out.” He stuck his hand out for her to take. 

“There’s a ladder over there.” Y/n replied, kicking her free foot slightly against his chest. 

Robin had made fun of him earlier today on how hairy it had become. 

“If you don’t help me, I’ll pull you in.” He threatened. 

Y/n watched as Robin cannonballed off the diving board, causing the pool water to ripple into tiny waves. Steve gave her a toothy grin. She didn’t trust him one bit, but she knew he would keep bothering her if she didn’t give in. She rolled her head back, sighing, taking his hand in hers. As she expected, he used all his strength to pull her arm and leg, placing her over his shoulder. His hand was settled at the back of her thigh, and a little too close to the bottom of her ass. The sunglasses had fallen to the bottom. She didn’t even try to fight him as he threw her into the middle of the pool. By the time she had come back up, he was climbing out before she could get revenge. 

“You guys want some pizza rolls?” He asked, picking up his towel off one of the pool chairs, shaking his hair in it. 

When he received a yes from both Robin and Y/n he retreated into the house. 

Y/n seemed to let out a deep breath, as she watched him. She swam back under the water to retrieve the sunglasses, surprised when she resurfaced to see Robin looking at her smugly. “What?”

“I used to think you were cool.” Robin said, propping her elbows up on the ledge. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Y/n asked.

Her new-found friend shrugged. “When I first met you, I thought you found him as irritable as I do. But the rest of the summer I’ve had to endure the two of you disgustingly flirting all the time. You’ve fallen under his spell.” 

Y/n scoffed. Robin sounded ridiculous right now. “Robin, I am not flirting with Steve Harrington.” 

Robin hummed, clearly not believing a word. 

“Even if I did flirt with him. It’s not like I’m the one he’s interested in.” Y/n gave her a pointed look. She had noticed Steve and Robin were closer and seemed to come to an understanding of one another. He always had a smile on his face around her and even touched her a lot more than he did Y/n. 

Robin nearly choked on her own laughter. “Me? Oh my god. No no no no. Never. Nope. Trust me on this one, Y/n.” 

“Why not? You’re pretty and… you get along very well.”

Robin closed her eyes, biting her lip. The look on her face was serious. “I don’t like Steve. If I did like someone, it would be someone like you.” 

Y/n raised her eyebrow. “I don’t understand.” 

“I’m a lesbian.” Her voice was soft, but Y/n could still hear the raspy words loud and clear. 

There was a sudden shift in her perception on the both of them. It wasn’t bad. But the secret whispers if the three of them had gone out made a lot more sense. Y/n smiled at her. Not one of those smiles full of pity. A real genuine friendly and encouraging smile. “Is that why you never argue when Steve puts on Risky Business?” 

Robin splashed her and told her to shut up. 

The rest of the day, now that they were dried off and back inside, Y/n couldn’t help but think about what Robin had mentioned. It was like she had to analyze every single move that Steve made or said. When they settled in the living room and he settled on the couch like last time, Y/n quickly slid to the floor, nervous that he might put his feet in her lap again. She looked down at her fidgeting fingers when she noticed Robin gave her a strange look. 

Really, the entire night she had brushed him off or barely spoke to him. 

It had gotten late. Robin decided to spend the night. Steve offered an invitation to Y/n, but she quickly rejected, making a lame excuse about waking up early to do chores. She said her goodbyes, quickly walking out of the house to her car. 

“Y/n!” 

Steve’s voice called out to her when she made it about halfway. She turned around. “Yeah?” 

“Everything good? You seemed… off tonight.” His porch light shone on his face. She could still see the faded bruise underneath his eye. 

“I’m just tired is all.” She lied. Although, she didn’t know the entire truth to what she was feeling. 

“You coming by tomorrow?” He asked her. 

“If I didn’t know any better. You sound a bit obsessed with me, Harrington.” 

She was too far away to see the pink that spread across his cheeks. “No,” he sputtered out. “You wish.” 

There was a beat. 

“I have a date tomorrow. That’s why I asked.” 

Robin had been wrong to assume anything more was going on between the two of them. She relaxed her shoulders, feeling at ease that Steve was interested in someone else. “Who on Earth agreed to go on a date with you?” It was a joke. Only a joke. That’s why he scoffed and flipped her off before going back inside without saying goodnight. 

Maybe she should go inside and apologize. Maybe she should even tell him she changed her mind and wanted to stay. 

She didn’t. 

She thought Steve had been lying about his supposed date. But after she had called his house two days later, sobbing that her car wouldn’t start, he had pulled up and in the passenger side was a freshly permed redhead. There seemed to be a scowl on her face as she watched Steve look under the hood of Y/n’s car. 

“Date go well yesterday?” Y/n gave her a taunting wave.

Steve shot her a warning look. “Yeah, I guess. I was um… about to take her home when you called.” 

“Gonna see her again?” Y/n kicked at the pebbles on the ground. 

“I dunno.” He answered, tinkering with something Y/n had no clue what the name was. “She wasn’t too happy that I had to come help a friend who is a girl.” 

“Did I interrupt your morning coitus?” 

Steve quickly straightened up, hitting his head on the hood. He backed up, clutching the spot, cursing. He sat on the ground in pain. 

The girl quickly jumped out of the car and ran up to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Sweetheart! Are you okay? Why are you just standing there and laughing? Go get him an ice pack or something.” The red haired girl glared at Y/n. 

“Don’t worry. I think his hair prevents any trauma to the skull.” Y/n snorted. 

The girl narrowed her eyes. “Some friend you are.” 

“Harrington, tell your girlfriend to relax.” 

“She’s not my girlfriend!” 

The red headed girl huffed, pulling away from Steve. “I’m walking home.” 

She must have expected Steve to come after her, because she turned around twice to see if he would let her. But he just sat there, watching her walk away. 

Without another word about the redhead with no name he finished working on her car. 

—

Y/n shrugged off her jacket when she walked into the video store, placing it on the counter. She could hear quiet arguing from the backroom. The voices got louder as they ventured into the store. 

Robin was the first to walk out with a stack of VHS tapes. “Thank god you’re back.” She proclaimed when she realized Y/n was there. “Your hair is shorter.” 

Y/n couldn’t help but touch the end of her hair, smiling bashfully at her new decision. She looked over at Steve who hadn’t acknowledged her presence. “Hello to you too, Harrington.” 

The duo had finally found themselves a job towards the beginning of the school year. Y/n had tried to convince Steve to apply to the community college she attended, but he pushed it aside. He said that he needed to figure himself out first. She wondered what he even did when Robin and her were gone during the day and if it involved “figuring himself out.” 

He grumbled, putting his own stack of tapes on the cart. Robin rolled her eyes. “He’s trying to play it cool, but he missed you. The entire week you were gone he kept whining and asking me if it was Saturday yet.” Robin whispered to her so he couldn’t hear. 

Y/n had gone on vacation during Thanksgiving break to Florida at her aunt’s beach house. It was only a week, but it felt like a lifetime being away from Hawkins. Being away from them. Robin. Steve. 

Y/n watched Steve roll the cart over to a shelf, wordlessly putting tapes into their rightful place. 

Robin tilted her head towards him, silently telling Y/n to talk to him. She slowly made her way over to him, leaning her body against the side of his body, propping her hands on his shoulder, and resting her chin on them. He didn’t flinch or budge. In fact, she swore he moved closer into her touch. “Guess what.”

“Hm?” He continued to put the movies in their place. 

Y/n moved off of him, retrieving a folded envelope from her pocket, pushing it in front of his face. He backed his head up so he could get a better view. “Is that…” 

Y/n nodded. 

She bit her lip as he took the letter out of her hand. “Why didn’t you open it?” 

“I couldn’t do it myself. You’re the one who stayed up with me every night to make sure I finished my homework and helped me study. If I failed my midterms, I want you to be the one to break it to me.” She motioned her hands, encouraging him to open it. 

Steve set a copy of Jaws on the shelf. He dragged his finger slowly against the seal. Y/n bounced on her feet in anticipation, leaning forward as he took the piece of paper out. His eyes scanned the contents of the paper. He shook his head, giving her a disappointing smile. “I can’t believe you managed to pass all of your midterms.” 

Y/n’s eyes bulged, quickly snatching the paper out of his hand to see for herself. Sure enough, she had managed to get a passing grade in each course. “We did it!” She proclaimed, wrapping her arms excitedly around his neck. 

It took Steve a second before he hugged her back, patting her. “No, you did it yourself, Y/n.” 

She couldn’t help it. She gave him a tight squeeze, burying her face in his neck. “Thank you.” She muttered. When she pulled away, he ran hand through his hair, smiling awkwardly. “We should celebrate or something.” 

Steve leaned his elbow on the shelf, but it hit the tape he had just set down, causing it to flip. Luckily he caught it as it tumbled in the air. “Yeah. How about pizza and a movie at my place?” He suggested as he set the tape carefully back on the shelf. 

“As long as I get to pick the movie.” 

“Anything for you. Tomorrow at nine sounds okay?” 

“Good with me.” 

“Great. It’s a date.” Steve picked up Jaws and pushed it between the row of movies. He then rolled the cart to a new shelf, leaving Y/n frozen in place. He didn’t seem to notice the choice of words he had used. He’s used it before. But somehow his tone of voice felt different. 

Shaking her head, she turned around and walked over to her who was leaning over the counter. Y/n picked up her jacket. Robin gave her a smug look. “What?” 

“A date, huh?” Robin had lowered her voice. 

Y/n looked at the floor. “You know it’s not like that.” Normally, these “dates” included Robin. Yet, she acted like she knew something Y/n didn’t. 

“Do you want it to be like that?” Y/n was used to Robin questioning her feelings for Steve. 

Y/n could admit that the two of them have gotten closer but there was nothing more. When he touched her it was nothing more than a friendly squeeze. When they spoke it was always friendly banter. He never had any hidden reasoning behind it. 

“He’s just Steve to me.” Y/n replied. 

Robin was not convinced. 

The next day, Y/n arrived at Steve’s house. When she walked in the door it felt weird and quiet. “Where’s Robin?” 

He plopped on the loveseat that Robin would normally take over. He was wearing his glasses and his hair was messy. He looked like he had just woken up from a nap. “Not here.” 

“Obviously. Why didn’t you invite her?” Y/n went over to the television, popping the movie she had brought inside the player. 

“I did invite her. She said she couldn’t make it.” Steve threw the remote towards her. 

Y/n let a deep breath out. Robin was a conniving sly mischievous sneaky bastard. Y/n wondered if she should turn around and tell Steve that their mutual friend was trying to parent trap them. She didn’t though. 

Steve and her had hung out plenty of times by themselves and nothing happened. This was no different.

Although, she did have a difficult time paying attention to the movie, glancing over periodically as he had his knee in the air and hand under his head, parading his bicep. It would be so easy to go over and sit between his legs and lay down on his stomach. Her thoughts were distracted when his doorbell rang. She paused the movie to allow him to get up and answer the door, walking back into the living room with a box of pizza. He set it on the coffee table in front of the couch, grabbing a slice, and took a seat on the other side. 

Y/n had to keep repeating to herself he only sat there because it was easier to share the pizza that way. 

She must have been staring because he looked over at her, making a face. “You gonna start the movie back?” 

She had a hard time focusing, and Steve looked nothing but bored out of his mind and they still had about thirty minutes left of the movie. He must have sensed it. “Guess who came into the store this week?” He said, eyes still focused on the screen, taking another bite of his third pizza slice. 

“Who?” She asked him. 

“Tommy. Haven’t seen him since graduation.” Steve answered. There was a glimpse of sadness in his eyes. Tommy used to be one of his best friends. It shocked her and Heather at the beginning of senior year when they barely acknowledged each other’s existence. “Him and Carol split up. Crazy right? He said she went off to the University of Texas.”

“I never really spoke to her before except in eighth grade.” Y/n wiped her hands clean on a napkin, bringing her knees into her chest. 

“I remember you two belted out Call Me at her birthday party.” Steve laughed. His attention was finally on you. 

She laughed at the memory of her and Carol Perkins standing on top of Carol’s mother’s expensive new dining table, singing horribly out of tune to Blondie. “Oh my god. I completely forgot about that! How did you even remember?” 

“I remember a lot of things about that night.” Steve’s face had changed into something she couldn’t quite place her finger on, but it disappeared as quick as it came. He smirked, nudging his foot on her leg. “Even the kiss.” 

“I didn’t think you would remember that happening.” She couldn’t help but feel embarrassed that they were talking about it almost six years later. 

“Why would I forget my first kiss?” Steve chuckled.

The comment was almost unbelievable. Surely he was lying. What about the rumor that he kissed Betty Wyatt’s cousin in seventh grade? “I try to forget it.” She teased him, hoping it would distract from the shy look she was giving. “You were a bad kisser.” 

Steve scoffed, but the smile stayed. He leaned over and hit her knee. “I was not that bad.” 

She nodded her head violently. “Yes, you were. It felt like you were trying to suck a straw.”

“I’m sorry I was not born with natural kissing abilities like you. I bet you only knew what to do because you practiced on a poster of Donny Osmond.” He yelped when she kicked her foot against his. 

“That is just not true. It was Kevin Bacon.” 

“Yeah, well unlike you, I was not a weirdo.”  She tried to kick him again, but grabbed both of her calves, pulling her towards him. “Had to practice the old-fashioned way. No other girls have complained so far. Must be doing something right.” 

“Then why haven’t any of your relationships lasted?” She raised an eyebrow. She opened her mouth, gasping in revelation. “Maybe it’s not your commitment issues but your terrible lip-action.” She poked his forehead. 

Before, when they hadn’t been friends yet, that comment would have pissed him off. However, instead, he rolled his eyes, jabbing her side so she would yelp in laughter. “A lot has changed since eighth grade, Y/n. My kissing skills are phenomenal.” 

“Then show me.” 

Shit. 

She didn’t mean to say that out loud. She didn’t even mean to let the thought cross her mind. By the look on his face, eyes wide, lips parted as if he was unsure what to say, he was just as taken aback as she was. But she couldn’t help it.The glow of the television screen gleamed on his glasses. The light danced on his face, defining his jaw line. He didn’t look like the eighth grade boy she fancied. Nor did he look like the high school boy she despised. Now, he looked pretty and grown up.  

She gulped at his lack of response. “I… I was kidding, Harrington. Don’t cream your pants.” She playfully shoved his chest, looking anywhere but his eyes. 

“Oh.” He said. 

“Even if I wasn’t kidding. It would be no different than in eighth grade. It wouldn’t mean anything. It would be just for fun.” She should probably just shut up now before he kicked her out of his house for crossing the line. 

“Okay.” He shrugged. 

Her eyes met his again. Slanted and hooded. Not phased at all that he was agreeing on kissing his friend. She crossed her legs and he mirrored her. Their knees touched.

There was no slow build up or lingering looks. Steve quickly leaned in, giving her a chaste kiss. 

When he pulled back she frowned. “Really?” 

“What?” He shrugged. He was holding back and she didn’t understand why. 

“That was barely a kiss.” She crossed her arms. 

He took a deep breath and removed his glasses, setting them down on the coffee table. He turned back towards her, running his tongue along his bottom lip while staring at hers. He placed his hand on the side of her face, thumb brushing over his cheek. This time, he leaned in slowly, until their lips met once again. 

Her hands laid stupidly by her side as their lips melted against one another. She was afraid to touch him. She was afraid if she did touch him this friendly kiss would become more. 

She wasn’t sure when his hand came to the back of her neck, pulling her deeper. She was the one who invited his tongue in, parting her lips, allowing it to glide over the roof of her mouth before dipping it against her own.

Maybe it was the guttural moan that came out of him that she found herself climbing into his lap, hands finally touching him. She broke away. He tried to chase her lips, whimpering. “I should probably go.” 

Steve looked over at the television. “The movie isn’t over.” The movie had been long forgotten. 

“I have class tomorrow.” She argued. 

Steve gripped her sides. “Please stay. At least until the movie is over.” 

Her lips found his again. More greedy and intense than the last time. She couldn’t help but grab a fistful of his hair, tugging it. That same moan from earlier came back. He came up for a breath of air like he had been drowning for hours. Y/n herself felt like she was in a whirlpool. Her head spinning, stomach flipping. 

Their noses bumped into one another as he angled his head. His lips moved to her jaw then to her neck. Licking and nipping the soft skin. “Harrington.” She sighed. 

“Hm?” 

“You know this isn’t going to be a thing, right?” He looked up, lips pink and swollen. His eyes clouded with desire. “I don’t like you or anything.” 

“Okay.” He tried to lean back in, but she stopped him. He rolled his eyes. “What do you want me to say? We both agreed it’s only for fun.” 

A part of her wished she hadn't said anything. A part of her wanted him to argue and tell her it wasn’t just fun for him and he liked her. 

She was ready to get off his lap again and run out of his house. The air was suffocating. But then he shifted, and she felt the hardness under the soft cotton of his sweatpants, brushing lightly against the back of her thigh. She hitched her breath. 

His fingers pushed the hem of her shirt, brushing her bare stomach. “You know this only confirms that you don’t wait until the first date.” 

“Do you believe the only thing I think about is sex?” He quizzed her. There was the playful smirk on his face that he always gave her when he wanted her to pick on him. 

“Actually, yes. Probably the longest committed relationship you’ve had.” The anxious feeling gnawing on her brain loosened. She leaned over and whispered in his ear. “I can also feel your dick.”

He flushed. 

“Look at you getting all flustered. You’re too pretty for your own good, Harrington.” She smiled smugly when he grew redder at the compliment. 

She squeezed his warm pink freckled cheeks, making his lips pucker out. “Do the other girls get you worked up like me?” 

He shook his head. He didn’t need to though. She knew the girls he brought home didn’t speak to him in such a way. 

That was one thing about her that Steve found most enthralling. She was never different around him. Even when he makes a comment that flustered her, she could come back with full force. It was like they were on opposite ends of one of those Newton’s cradles. 

“I’m not expecting to have sex.” He assured her. 

“I know.” She was ready for him to shut up. She bucked her hip. 

“Shit.” Steve groaned from the pressure in his pants. His palms ran up and down her bare sides, thumbing the fabric of her bra underneath. There was a shaky breath he let out when she grinded against him. “What about you?” 

“What about me?” 

“Are you expecting to have sex?” 

She dipped down, kissing his sweet lips. “I’m just having fun before the movie is over.” 

“You’re avoiding the question.” His hands were still now, resting on her ribs. 

She threw her head back, agitated. “I dunno! I’ve never even had sex before. I don’t know what I want to happen.” 

Steve’s eyes went wide, quickly removing his hands from under her. “But you acted like you’ve done this before.”It came out as a question. 

“Confidence gets you a long way.” She mumbled. “Now you’re treating me like I’m going to break if you touch me.” 

“No. No! That’s not… I don’t want you to feel like you are making a mistake.” Steve’s face softened with concern. 

“We’re already making a mistake. What’s one more? Show me what I’ve been missing all these years.” 

This wasn’t what she had imagined her first time. It had always been someone she cared about deeply. There was a trail of rose petals and satin sheets. Her lips would taste of the red wine she had just drank with maybe a hint of strawberries. She would wear a well thought out lingerie set which would slowly be taken off her and her body would be ravished, idolized, relished. She had always thought those were the things that would make her first time perfect. 

Never did she imagine it would be Steve Harrington, laying her on his couch after he had just taken her shirt off, her bra not long after. Her breasts in his mouth, sticky and wet as he lapped his tongue over her nipples. 

More clothes seemed to disappear between them. The glow of the television melted into his skin. She brushed her fingers over the freckles on his ribs. It was something she wanted to do months ago when they were swimming in his pool. 

His hand slipped between her thighs, sliding up. She was only wearing underwear now, and embarrassingly enough, it wasn’t anything cute or fancy. “Who’s the worked up one now?” He commented as he slipped his hand inside her underwear, feeling the wetness. 

“Can’t help it. You’re so pretty, Harrington.” She mewled. She was happy to discover the compliment made him red-faced and clumsy. She was going to use that to her advantage. 

“Can I touch you?” He asked. 

“You are.” 

“Not what I meant.” 

His fingers felt like electricity. Gliding, massaging against her sweet area. His lips were on hers again, sucking, nibbling her bottom lip. He was hungry for more. 

When he removed her underwear and kissed her pelvis, it began to hit her that she was naked and about to sleep with Steve Harrington. Her– unlikely– friend Steve Harrington. “Steve.” She let out a wanton moan as his tongue made contact with her swollen clit. 

He lifted her legs onto his shoulders, hands wrapped over her thighs, gripping the insides. He pushed his face deeper, moaning against her. 

“You look so pretty between my legs.” She chuckled when he looked up at her, eyes hazy, drunk on her. He flicked his tongue faster, and she tried to clench her legs together but he spread them back apart. 

He came up for a moment, a string of salvia between his mouth and her. “You okay?” 

“Really? You’re checking on me now?” She complained, wiggling for him to continue. 

There was a moment. 

He looked at her intensely, watching her chest rise and fall. He took note of how her eyes glimmered. How beautiful she looked on the couch, the cushions enveloping around her bare body. Before his thoughts could stray further from just friends territory, he returned his mouth on her, taking one of his hands, he moved his hand off her thigh. “Eyes on me.” 

He groaned when she parted her lips, a soft gasp escaping as he slowly slipped his middle finger inside of her. He pumped it in and out. Hot sticky sounds mixed with soft moans and grunts. “Jesus…”

“Feel okay?” 

She nodded. 

He slipped a second finger in.

Dear god, she felt she was floating in the air as his tongue lapped and circled her clit, sucking, and occasionally his teeth grazing. It all felt surreal like if she closed her eyes and opened them back up he wouldn’t be there. Maybe that’s why she tangled her fingers into his dark mop of hair, ensuring he was real and wouldn’t disappear. Maybe she also gripped his hair after he curled his fingers, hitting a sensitive spot. Maybe she held on tighter because that bubbling feeling at the base of her stomach appeared, her eyes watering, and her breath irregular, her walls tightened around his fingers, her high pouring all over them. 

He kissed her thigh, letting her catch her breath and revel in the orgasm, fingers still inside of her. She stared at white the ceiling above her, trying to refocus her eyes. Steve took his fingers out, and crawled out from underneath her. His fingers were slick and wet. Her eyes went wide at the sight of him, taking his tongue, licking them, putting them in his mouth, and taking them out with a pop. 

He’s hovered above her now, and she’s happy. It had been too long since they had kissed. It felt like ages ago she had only asked him to kiss her as a challenge, to prove that he wasn’t the goofy freckled boy anymore. 

He wanted to kiss her, she could tell by the way he leaned in. However, when she saw his wet depraved red lips, she found herself cupping his jaw, rubbing her thumb over them, brushing it against his tongue. His eyes fluttered shut for a second and she could feel him twitch against her. “Fuck.” He whispered. “Fuck… you. I need… you so bad.” When he opened his eyes, she noted the plea that shone in them. She could imagine he would hate her if she didn’t let him by the wrecked expression on his face. “I need to hear it from you.”

“Okay.” She tried to kiss him but he moved his head back.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” He rested his tongue on his bottom lip, that smug look appearing, knowing it would piss her off. 

“Just fuck me already, Harrington.” She threw her head back on the couch, exasperated. 

It was a quick swift movement, him removing his underwear, his dick slapping his stomach. 

She tried not to react. She had always assumed his size would not be disappointing. Sometimes he wore too tight of jeans and sometimes she found herself staring at the bulge it would make. 

He took himself by the hand, sliding it against her folds, teasing her. He leaned in one last time. “It’s all yours. I just need you to say the words.” 

She let out a laugh of disbelief, looking away from his intense gaze. “I need you.” She whispered. 

“I couldn’t hear you.” Steve leaned his ear closer. 

“You’re blind, Harrington. Not hard of hearing. I’m not saying it again.” 

“Not the time to be stubborn, Y/n.” He tsked, caressing her breast, pinching her hardened nipple.

“I need you, Steve. Please.” She hated begging, but the pathetic look on his face when she said please, made her stomach swell. 

He slowly inserted himself into her, sinking slowly. He made sure she was okay before he started to move his hips, slow careful thrusts, in and out of her. 

She looked over at the television screen and almost laughed. The credits were rolling.

Steve grabbed her jaw, making her turn her face back towards him. “Look at me.” He bucked his hip, his entire length filling her. He did it again, and again. Y/n gasped, clenching her thighs against his waist. “Trust me, it will feel better to keep them wide.” He gently pushed them apart for her, continuing a steady rhythm. Marveling the fact his entirety was completely sheathed inside of her. 

She could barely stand it, her shaky hands grabbed his arms, proving to be as strong and muscular as they looked. Her nails dug into his soft tan flesh when he rolled his hips. 

“Feel good?” Steve asked. 

“It’s alright.” Her mouth was wide, grinning. She knew that he knew she was lying. It was amazing, but it felt even more fun to tease him, watching his eyebrows crease when he was annoyed, trying to prove to her he was beyond just “alright.” 

“It would feel even better if I wasn’t doing all the work here, sweetheart.” He used the nickname in a condescending tone, but it didn’t stop her stomach from flipping, and a breath hitching in her throat. He grabbed the side of her ass, pulling it up, allowing the tip of him to brush over her cervix. “Move your hips with me.” 

She did as she was told, her pelvis hitting his, colliding together in a sound of sticky slaps. “Fuck. Yes.” He leaned down and gave a sloppy kiss. She took his bottom lip between her teeth. He couldn’t hide the loud moan. He gave her ass another squeeze. “Try to keep in rhythm with me, baby.” 

His hooded eyes were half-closed, hypnotized and intoxicated. “You’re so gorgeous.” He mumbled, flushing his chest against hers, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck, placing tender kisses. “So beautiful.” 

He sounded like she had broken him. 

“How do I feel?” He asked again. 

Her arms snaked around him, fingers brushing over his shoulder blades. “I told you already.” 

“That answer wasn’t good enough.” He pulled his hips back, nearly completely out of her, before slamming back down. Her thighs came back around him, and he pushed them apart, giving unrelentless thrusts, groaning and grunting, her walls clenching around him, her body never wanting to let go of him. 

Everytime he sank back inside of her, hitting the right spot, short whiny breaths of air escaped her. 

“I like the sounds you make.” She admitted. 

Although she was beneath him, she still felt some sort of power, knowing her words could determine his next move or destroy him. Like now, his eyes were closed, lips parted, cursing under his breath. 

“I need to hear you again.” 

“Hear what?” She asked in a sharp breath of air. 

“Since you won’t say how good I make you feel. I want to hear it.” He quickly took himself out of her, and the sudden lack of warmth almost made her cry. He sat so his backside was against the back of the couch. He pulled her hand, motioning for her to come over, guiding her to straddle him. 

She placed her forehead on his as he lifted her up and led her back onto him, swearing as she sank down. She placed her hands on his neck, his on her back, the two of them moaning and kissing as she rocked back and forth. 

“That’s perfect. You’re perfect.” He murmured. 

She shivered as his hand trailed down to her hips, grabbing the flesh. He began to harmonize with her rhythm. Her mouth found his neck, sucking a rosy bloom. She pushed herself harder against him, feeling his base brush her clit. “Y/n.” His voice was weak, pleading. 

She pecked his lips. “It feels so good.” She groaned in satisfaction. “You make me feel so good.” 

His composure faltered, her words sending him over the edge. His hips continued to buck up, but each one a little faster and a little harder, his cock unrelentlessly penetrating inside of her, hitting her G-spot. 

“Steve.” She had said under her breath. 

“Steve.” She moaned a little louder so he could hear her. 

It was almost too overwhelming. “Steve.” She felt her climax wash over her, body falling forward, face in his neck. He continued to fuck her through it, making her cry from the intensity of pleasure pulsating throughout her body. It wasn’t long after her that he choked a groan, nails digging into her hips, one last deep thrust, releasing his own orgasm in her. 

They stayed like that for what seemed like forever. Her face in his neck, panting, limbs numb. He was staring at the ceiling, chest heaving, running his hand up and down her back. 

“That was fun.” He spoke out loud, not particularly to her, but to fill the silence. 

“Yeah.” Her voice was shaky. She brought up her face, looking him in the eyes. She leaned in for another kiss, but that seemed too romantic. It was too much for just two friends that only had sex for fun and not because they liked each other. Instead of kissing his soft glossy lips, she kissed him on his cheek. Ignoring the feeling that she wanted to. 

—-

Y/n couldn’t believe in only a few hours marked 365 days that Earth had gone around the sun. 

It had been 180 days since Starcourt and Heather’s death. It had been 30 days since she had sex with Steve for the first time. 

Nothing had changed. There was still bantering between them. They still hung out. Steve had even gone on a few dates after, but Y/n could admit something was different. Stolen looks, lingering touches, and maybe the fact they had sex three times after that. 

It had been a week after the first time Steve showed up at her doorstep, a desperate look in his eyes. It didn’t take long for them to sneak up to her bedroom, his hand over her mouth, trying not to catch her parent’s attention. 

The next was when he had gone on a date with Beth Newman. Apparently, it ended terribly, calling Y/n to come over. He kept telling her he didn’t ask her to come over for just sex, but a little part of her knew that was a lie.

But the last time felt different than any of the other times. There was no failed date, no desperation. 

It was Christmas Day and Y/n had invited him over to celebrate with him after he had mentioned his parents were going to Las Vegas. Robin was in Indianapolis having Christmas with her grandparents. Steve was going to be all alone on Christmas and it bothered Y/n. Even though he showed up at her front door she had been shocked he showed up, wearing one of the ugliest brown sweaters she had ever seen. 

They spent the afternoon eating and talking with her family. They even watched A Charlie Brown Christmas. It was tradition for the family to bake banana bread the night before and after their own festivities would go around the neighborhood to pass them out. However, Y/n and Steve stayed behind. 

The house smelled of honey glazed ham and mashed potatoes that lingered from dinner. Y/n walked into the living room with two mugs of peppermint hot chocolate, warm enough for marshmallows to melt but cool enough to drink. Steve was staring at the Christmas tree decorated in lights and garland. He gave her a sweet smile, taking the mug from her. “I don’t remember the last time our family decorated the Christmas tree together. Usually, I’d come home to find it already up.” 

She could tell he wasn’t telling her this to make her feel bad for him. 

“I have a present for you.” He told her, setting his mug down, walking over to the coat closet her mother had told him to put his jacket in. He came back, holding a poorly wrapped golden box. 

Y/n had sat down in front of the electrical fireplace, criss crossed, watching him walk to her. “I didn’t get you anything.”

He smiled, sitting next to her. “It’s okay.” He handed her the present, leaning back on his hands, arm brushing hers, watching her run her fingers over the wrapping. 

“It’s a good thing you don’t work at a gift store. Your wrapping skills are atrocious.” She nudged him. 

“Henderson wouldn’t help me.” He had grumbled, looking away so she couldn’t see his flushed cheeks. 

She smirked, ripping the paper off, revealing a square black velvet box. She glanced over at him. He was chewing on his bottom lip, hitting the top of his feet together, and not looking at her. She opened the box, letting out a quiet gasp. 

Inside was a dainty silver bracelet. There was nothing entirely special or spectacular about it, but the way the white lights from the tree shined on it and the fact it was from Steve, everything made it more special. “It’s beautiful, Steve.” 

“Yeah?” He looked at her, noticing the gleam in her eyes.

She nodded, placing a quick kiss on his lips, taking it out of the box. “Will you help me put it on?” 

Steve, still shocked from the kiss, coughed. He sat up and silently helped her clasp the bracelet on her wrist, looking up at her when he was done, hand still on hers. She called it beautiful again, only to herself, but he had heard it. “For a beautiful girl.” 

She snorted, but couldn’t help but feel nervous. She still wasn’t used to the blatant flirting or compliments he gave her. “How long were we holding in that cheesy comment?” 

His thumb rubbed the inside of her wrist, feeling her pulse. He took the leap and kissed her softly. So soft it felt like he wasn’t kissing her at all. She placed her hand on his face, pulling him in, deepening the kiss. There was no hesitation when she asked if he wanted to go to her room, leaving behind the now room temperature hot chocolate. 

“Surprised you didn’t make fun of my sweater.” He had told her, smiling, between their heated kisses on her bed. 

She smiled back, showing all her teeth, tugging the hem of said sweater, helping him tug it off. “It’s Christmas. Decided to be nice.” 

All the touches and kisses he gave her that night were softer, longer, and slower than before. Like he was savoring everything about her. Marveling her in nothing but the silver bracelet on her wrist. 

And now she had to sit in an uncomfortable dress at his parent’s New Year’s party, watching him talk to one of his dad’s co-worker’s daughters. She was clean, gorgeous and straight-laced. Her blonde hair was straight and shiny. Y/n couldn’t help but glare at the way she laughed when Steve told a joke, touching his elbow lightly. 

They hadn’t talked about Christmas or acknowledged it. Not even two days ago when they had gotten high in her car and made out.

“These sandwiches are probably the best thing ever.” Robin commented, mouth full of the finger turkey sandwiches. “Steve’s parents might suck but they know how to throw a hell of a party.” 

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Y/n asked, rolling her eyes when the girl brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Who?” Robin followed her gaze, trying not to smirk. “Not sure. She’s kind of hot.” 

Y/n shot her a dirty look. 

Robin laughed. “Not my fault you have a crush on him.”

“I do not!” Y/n’s voice raised and was higher than normal. A few bystanders gave the pair an odd look before returning back to their conversations. Y/n coughed, taking a sip of the sparkling cider in her hand. Steve had promised later he would sneak them some booze, but he was too busy flirting and the night was coming to a close. 

“Hm.” Robin stuffed another sandwich in her mouth. “Don’t worry, if she sees that hickey he’s been trying to cover all evening, she’ll lose interest.” 

Y/n choked, eyes wide, receiving a questioning look from her friend. “Hickey?” 

Robin chuckled. “Oh yeah. He came to work yesterday and I pointed it out immediately. It’s kind of hard to miss. I had to come over an hour early to press some powder on it. Do you know if he has a secret girl?” 

“Why would I know? You’re his best friend.” Y/n tried her best to play it off. 

Robin shrugged. “You’re the one who hung out with him the night before.” 

“I hope you’re not implying what I think you are.” Y/n nervously took another drink, looking away from her. She could easily tell when someone was lying by just the scrunch of a nose. 

“I’m not implying anything.” She answered. 

There was a beat. 

“I’m just one-hundred percent sure I saw him touch your butt the other day when you came into the store.” 

It wasn’t that Y/n was hiding the fact that she and Steve had hooked up… multiple times. But she assumed since Steve had never told Robin about them, that it was a silent agreement they wouldn’t tell anyone at all. Y/n gulped. “He did not.” 

“Mm, yes he did.” 

“He probably just grazed it when walking by, Robin.” 

“Y/n, that was not just a graze. He went like this.” She held up her hand, squeezing the air. “His hand was full of your ass.” 

“That’s so gross. Never do that again.” Y/n elbowed her friend, laughing. 

Another moment of silence. 

“We’re not together or anything. We’re just… having fun.” She twisted the silver bracelet around her wrist. 

Robin hummed again, not pushing any further. 

Y/n managed to slip outside, letting the freezing air sting her cheeks. There was only about ten minutes left of 1985. She took a seat on the deck, slipping off her shoes, and putting her feet in the heated pool water. Leaning over slightly, she could see her reflection in the water. A whole year went by and she looked older, taller, bigger. The bags under her eyes told her she was tired a lot more. 

It was funny to think just months ago she was still in high school and now she was grown up. She heard the door open, chatter from the inside drifted out before being muffled again when it was closed. She could hear quiet giggling. Turning her head, she saw Steve and the girl from earlier walk out, his hand on the small of her back. They couldn’t see her hidden behind a pool chair. 

Their conversation was quiet, but she could hear a lighter being lit, the smell of cigarettes followed after. 

“You have anyone to kiss at midnight?” The girl asked him in a sweet sultry tone.

She could feel her throat close up. There was no escape. If she stood up and walked away, they would see her. Maybe if she crawled on the ground she could go around the house back to the front. 

“I thought I did.” He answered. 

Y/n’s escape plan was paused, her ears perked up. 

“Thought? You have a girl here with you?” 

Y/n heard the long sigh that came out of him, a trail of smoke lifted into the cold air. “She’s just a friend.” 

Oh. 

Y/n heard enough that she wanted to. She grabbed her shoes, picked her feet out of the water, shivering as they hit the freezing slab of concrete. When she stood up, the girl and Steve looked at her. 

The girl’s face was pinched into an annoyed expression, clutching Steve’s jacket over her shoulders. 

Steve’s eyes were wide, mouth ajar, like a kid who had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. 

“Don’t mind me!” Y/n faked a sweet smile, but she knew Steve could recognize the sarcasm by the way he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was looking for someone.” 

The girl’s face relaxed. “Who were you looking for?”

She sounded like she had done this before. Like she knew everyone that was at the party. Like she knew Steve. 

Y/n walked closer to the door, looking Steve up and down, giving him a chance to say anything. 

He didn’t. 

“No one important. Just a friend.” Y/n locked eyes with Steve. He gave her a look, lips parted like he wanted to argue with her. Instead of giving him a chance, she walked back inside to the party. 

She looked around the living room to find Robin. She had plans on leaving but she didn’t want to without her friend not knowing. It came to no surprise to find her standing to the side, gawking at a pretty brunette, who also seemed to be looking at her too. Y/n sighed, pushing her pride behind, realizing her friend needed her. 

“You know, you could just go over and talk to her.” Y/n told her, slipping back on her shoes now that her feet were dry. 

She scoffed. “Have you met me?” Her voice was raspy and warm. 

Suddenly, there was a clinking of glass, everyone’s attention turned to Mr. Harrington standing in the middle of the living room, Mrs. Harrington wrapped around his arm. Steve stood behind them, looking at his feet. His hair was messy and he had put his jacket back on. “Thank you all for coming tonight. My family and I are grateful for everyone in this room. The clock here says we have two minutes left of 85’ so I suggest you tie your loose ends up quickly.” He winked, making everyone laugh. He raised his glass, everyone followed suit. 

Y/n quickly turned to Robin again. “There’s nothing you can lose if you go talk to her now.”

Robin bit her lip, looking at the girl across the room. “Okay. Fine, I’ll go.” She straightened the blazer she was wearing and asked Y/n if she looked okay before walking timidly over to the stranger. 

She couldn’t but smile as the pair immediately dived into conversation, Robin turned around and gave her a smile. 

Someone in the room shouted that there were twenty seconds left before midnight. Y/n covered her mouth, pushing down the laugh when the brunette took Robin’s pinky, pulling her upstairs. However, she couldn’t help but feel envious that her shy friend, who was scared of being an outcast if the town knew the real her, had snuck off to lock lips with a gorgeous girl. 

“Ten!”

Y/n looked at the couples finding one another to celebrate the new year. 

“Nine!”

Her eyes caught Steve still standing in the living room. 

“Eight!” 

He ran a hand through his stupid messy brown hair.

“Seven!”

He craned his neck to look around.

“Six!” 

He walked towards her, still looking in every direction except hers. 

“Five!” 

His stupid brown eyes finally found hers.

“Four!” 

He just stood there, staring at her as if he was too scared to approach her. She didn’t want to go to him. She didn’t want to be the first to move.

“Three!” 

He gave her a small smile, putting his hand up, waving. 

“Two!”

Her body betrayed her, turning towards him, smiling back, waving back, a silent invitation. 

“One!” 

She saw the step he took. She knew he was coming to her. 

“Happy New Year!” 

The blonde girl from earlier had gotten to him faster, grabbing him by the collar, snaking her arm around his neck to pull him into a kiss. 

That kiss was supposed to be for Y/n. 

Y/n knew it was. 

But it still hurt and gnawed at her brain that she would never be good enough for Steve. He might think she was pretty enough to fuck, but never enough to be with her for real. 

—-

The floor of Robin’s bedroom floor had never felt so fuzzy before. Y/n twisted the carpet strands between her fingers, feeling the strands between the pads of her digits. She let out a long drawn out sigh, giggling when Robin took that as a sign to hand over the blunt, hanging her arm off the edge of the bed for Y/n to take. 

Y/n took a long deep inhale, filling her lungs before puffing the smoke out. She turned her head slightly to the dark haired boy next to her. He had one hand behind his head and the other laying on his stomach. His lips were parted, eyes dilated, focused on the ceiling. She nudged him with her elbow, but he didn’t look at her when he took the blunt out of her hand. 

This is how it's been the past month. He only would hang out with her if Robin was around. He would barely look at her and only talked to her when it was absolutely necessary. There was no flirting. No lingered touches. 

She had to watch his hair get longer, muscles get bigger, boyish features disappear. It felt like their friendship had taken three steps back and they no longer knew one another. They were just there because Robin was there. They were strangers. 

“Guys, are you even listening to me?” Robin sat up, looking down at them. 

Steve sat up too, reaching over Y/n to hand Robin the blunt back. “We don’t need to listen to know you’re back on another tangent about Vickie. How cute her freckles are and how red her hair is.” 

Robin groaned, annoyed that he was being a jerk. 

“She could call your cousin and play tonsil hockey with her instead.” Y/n snorted. When Robin told Steve about who she met at New Year’s, he broke the news she had made out with his cousin, Bethany. Now, it was an inside joke between them, Steve was indisposed.

He gave her an unimpressed look, definitely not amused by the joke. “I don’t know why it’s a big deal to talk to Vickie if you were brave enough talking to a stranger you had never met.”

This conversation had happened before. Steve would ask that question each time, and each time Robin would answer the same thing. 

It was different flirting with a stranger she had never met, because if she had been rejected, it was fine no one would ever know, but if it had happened to a Hawkin’s local there would be consequences she wasn’t ready to go through. 

“Even if Vickie doesn’t like girls, I’m sure someone else in Hawkins does.” He tried to reassure her. 

Y/n sat up, looking at Robin, leaning in, pretending like it was a secret. “Or you could go down the list of his family. Maybe his mom could be next.” 

The two girls burst out in laughter. 

Steve looked between the two of them. “I gotta piss.” He grumbled, standing up to walk out of her room to the bathroom. 

Y/n couldn’t help but watch him, biting her lip. 

“Jesus. You two are exhausting.” Robin proclaimed. “I'd rather be drugged by Russains again than watch you two act like children who can’t talk about their feelings.” 

“There are no feelings. Besides, he's the one ignoring me.” She crossed her arms and grumbled. 

The girl on the bed rolled her eyes, moving her recently cut hair behind her ear. “This is why friends shouldn’t sleep with one another.” 

“Feeling left out? Send Steve home and I can fix that.” Y/n joked. 

Robin’s face grew bright red, laughing louder than necessary. 

Steve walked back in, making the girls cackle even harder, tears in their eyes, clutching their thighs because they were on the verge of peeing themselves. Steve leaned on the door frame, the corner of his mouth upturned, even though he had no clue what the uproar was about. He shook his head, sitting back in his spot. 

For a second, Y/n had forgotten they weren’t talking to one another. She laid her head on his shoulder, letting the last remaining giggles out. She expected him to push her off, but she swore he shifted closer, his thumb secretly rubbing the bottom of her back. 

The sun was setting, and their high was gone. Y/n announced she should head home before it got dark. “Car in the shop still?” Robin asked her. 

“Yeah, I thought it would be fixed by now, but supposedly the alternator is out. Mom has had to take me to school this week.” Y/n sighed, grabbing her bag and slipping on her shoes by the bedroom door. 

“Your car broke down again?” Steve looked concerned, eyebrows knitted together, and his head tilted to the side. 

Y/n shared an awkward look with Robin. “Yeah, last Friday when I was leaving school.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” His hands were on his hips now, like a scolding father. 

She furrowed her brows. “You were at work and I was forty-five minutes away. Eric helped me. He knew a few things about cars.”

“Who’s Eric?” He asked her.

“Oh, it’s one of her classmates who is totally into her.” Robin interjected. 

Y/n shot her a look. “Anyway, I’ll see you guys later.”  She could hear hushed whispers as she walked out of Robin’s bedroom. There was a defeated sigh followed by rushed footsteps. 

“Y/n, wait.” She was almost to the front door when Steve had caught up to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. She turned, raising an eyebrow. They stood there for a moment. “Let me drive you home.” 

She only agreed because it was cold outside. Not because it would be the first time in weeks she would be alone with Steve. 

The radio was on, windows were rolled down, Steve had a cigarette in his hand hanging out the window. A bad habit he had picked up again recently. Robin had scolded him the other day at work for stepping out to take a smoke break. 

The breeze ruffled his hair that was overdue for a trim. “So, this Eric guy. Is he cute?” 

“Why? You want his number? I could give it to you.” Y/n snorted at her own joke. 

“You have his number?” He flicked the cigarette out the window. Y/n looked back to watch the still lit bud bounce in the middle of the road. 

She leaned over to turn down the radio. “Yeah. He gave it to me Friday. Told me to call him if I needed a ride or anything.” They both knew what anything meant. 

Steve made a noise from the back of his throat in response, tapping his steering wheel, deep in thought about something. “You gonna call him?” 

Y/n had boys interested in her during her friendship with Steve. Never did he ask about it. Then again, she never asked about his interests. A little irritated, she bit the inside of her cheek, shaking her head. It was unbelievable. “Yeah, maybe I will. Unless you think I shouldn’t.” This was his chance. She opened the door for them to finally, in Robin’s words, talk about their big kid feelings. 

“You can do whatever you want, Y/n. I don’t own you.” He brushed his nose.

“Right. Just friends, right?” Y/n’s jaw ticked. 

“Of course we’re friends.” He noticed the hurt look on her face, realizing what she was talking about. “I mean… we’re better off as friends.” 

“Yeah we are.” She put on a fake smile for him. “Besides, I can’t be with someone I don’t take seriously.” 

His knuckles turned white from clutching the steering wheel. He pulled into the driveway, her door was already open before he had even put the car in park. “Y/n!” He yelled as she started to storm off inside. She took a deep breath in, turning around, leaning over to look back inside the car, clearly frustrated. 

He looked like he wanted to say something important, swallowing hard. “I think I left my jacket here from Christmas. If you find it, could you return it?” 

The laugh she let out was breathy and full of disbelief. “Yeah, Harrington, I will. Do you think you could return my virginity?” Her face fell and lips were pursed, glaring at him.

His jaw went slack, looking away from her glowered look. Without another word, he shifted into reverse, pulling out of her driveway. It took everything in her power not to run after his BMW.  Instead she stood there in the February cold, hugging herself, tears streaming down her face. 

She walked up the steps of her home and sat on her porch swing, wishing Heather was there next to her. She would probably make a joke like, “I was right. You never really hated Steve Harrington.” 

Because it was true, she didn’t hate him. 

Being around him, getting to know him, made her feel like those chilly evenings when the leaves began to turn back to their color. He even reminded her of summer, sunkissed, and days in the pool. Steve reminded her of all the seasons and her favorite things about them. 

She twisted the silver bracelet around on her wrist. 

She would probably never say it out loud, but she was pretty sure she had fallen in love with him. 

She was in love with Steve Harrington. 

—-

The Florida sun felt unbearable. Hot and sticky. Sweat. So much sweat. Y/n slid open the doors of the family beach house, slipping inside into the air condition. She clutched a towel over her body, dripping with pool water, her footprints on the wood flooring. Her mother and aunt smiled at her from the kitchen table, playing canasta with some other family members. 

She grabbed a muffin leftover from breakfast, sitting down on a stool at the bar. Her two cousins, Penny and Mary walked in. They were twins and a year younger than Y/n, and sometimes they acted like they were the ones in charge, but Y/n still had a lot in common with them. Probably the only reason she wasn’t dreading spending her entire Spring Break here.

“Y/n, can you please tell Pen that Judge Reinhold is hot.” Mary threw a magazine on the counter, revealing a picture of the lanky actor. 

This was common between the sisters. They clearly had different types in men, and were always arguing about it. 

“Why would you ask her? Her taste in men is questionable. She thinks Zach Gilligan is cute.” Penny declared. 

“He is!” Mary shot back. 

Penny let out a loud groan, rolling her head back. 

Y/n peered at the magazine. “He’s not really my type.” 

“See, I knew you– what?” Mary snapped her head towards her, eyebrows furrowed. She pushed her sister who cheered at the small victory. “Whatever. I don’t really value the opinion of someone who has never had a boyfriend.” 

Y/n wasn’t hurt by the comment, and she would have flipped her cousin off if their mom’s weren’t watching. 

They were also clearly listening, because her aunt spoke up. “What about that handsome boy who came over on Christmas?”

“I think he’s the only boy me and Mary agree is attractive.” Penny giggled.

Y/n’s mom rolled her eyes. “Y/n insists they’re just friends. I’m wiser than I look. I know that Harrington boy is sweet on her.” 

Her entire family snickered, making Y/n’s cheeks heat up. “He is not.” 

They all unanimously hummed, not believing a word she said. 

Later that evening, Y/n was dressed in regular clothes, sitting in the living room area reading a book. Mary and Penny were watching Growing Pains when the phone began to ring, the twins yelled for someone to answer. Their mother mumbled under her breath about doing everything, even on vacation, nevertheless, she answered it. 

“Y/n, it’s for you.” She called out in a sing-song voice. 

Y/n furrowed her brows. She had only given Robin the number to the beach house, but only in case her house was on fire since she was in charge of watering her mom’s plants. She got up from the couch, walking over to her aunt holding the phone out for her niece to take. A smirk on her face when she grabbed it. “It’s your lover boy.” She teased, winking before she walked back to the kitchen. 

Y/n took a moment before collecting her senses to put the phone to her ear. “Hello?” 

“Y/n.” Steve answered, almost in relief. 

She wanted to slam the phone back on the wall. “What do you want?” 

“I… I wanted to hear your voice.” There was a tone of defeat in his voice. 

She looked around, not wanting any of her family to hear. “Are you drunk or something?” 

“No.” He sighed. “You remember last summer?” 

“Yeah.” It was kind of hard to forget. 

“Well, all that crazy shit is back without the Russians.” He chuckled at the last part. He sounded so casual. 

Flashbacks infiltrated her mind, her heart started to race. “Are you okay?” 

He shushed her to calm down. “I’m okay, I promise. It’s a long story, but we have a plan to fix it.” 

“We?” 

“Yeah. Me, Dustin and his friends, Robin, Eddie Munson… Nancy.” He was hesitant about her name like he was afraid to say it out loud. 

She ignored the burning in her chest. She was all the way in Florida while Steve was hanging out with his ex, his first love. “Eddie Munson? You’ve been complaining about him for months because you’re afraid Dustin likes him better than you.” 

“That is not– like I said, it’s a long story.” She could see him pinching the bridge of his nose or even running a hand through his hair. “Listen, I called because I just wanted to let you know what was going on, okay?” 

“Why?” 

There was a pause.

“Because we’re friends.” 

There was another pause. 

“Because I care about you.” 

A breath hitched in her throat. “Stop it.” 

“No, it’s true.”

“Stop saying things like you’re going to die, Harrington. It’s cliché.” 

She could hear his heavy breath. “Then I’ll tell you when you get back.” 

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Alive?” She asked him. 

 “Alive.” He assured her. 

“You better be or I’ll kick your ass, Harrington.” 

He laughed. “I know you will. I gotta go now. I’ll see you.” His voice was soft. 

“Yeah.” 

Neither of them hung up the phone. She could still hear the crackling of him adjusting it against his ear. The silence was comfortable.

A few minutes had gone by and she heard the familiar raspy voice of Robin telling Steve they needed to get going. 

He finally hung up. 

—

Y/n’s vacation was cut short when the news broke Hawkins had experienced a large earthquake, resulting in twenty-two casualties and numerous homes being destroyed. Although Y/n concluded the earthquake had to do with whatever Steve had mentioned over the phone. 

A long line of cars were exiting Hawkins as her family entered, almost like fools. 

Their house had been spared, the only damage was that the porch swing had fallen from the hooks and split in half. 

She had immediately gone to Robin’s house to check on her friend, but of course, was directed to Steve’s. 

Y/n was surprised to be greeted by Steve’s dad when she rang the doorbell. Mrs. Harrington was talking frantically on the phone, a cigarette in her mouth. She gave Y/n a wave, covering the speaker. “They’re upstairs.” She mouthed, returning back to the conversation. 

When she arrived outside of his bedroom, she could hear voices arguing. 

She slowly opened the door, seeing Robin sitting on Steve’s bed. Almost out of instinct, she swung it open, running over to her, wrapping her arms around the girl. They both toppled on top of the bed. Robin laughed, patting Y/n on the back. They sat up, Robin brushed the hair out of her face. Y/n looked over to see Steve standing in front of his closet. A box at his feet, clothes in his hands. Next to him was a boy about an inch shorter than him, long curly hair, wearing a t-shirt and ripped jeans. His face was scarred with tiny teeth marks. She recognized him as Eddie Munson. 

“Who’s this chick?” Eddie asked. 

“Eddie, this is Y/n.” Robin introduced her. 

A big grin appeared on his face. He walked over, took her hand and kissed it. “M’lady, it’s a pleasure to finally be acquainted with you. Heard a lot about you.” 

Y/n giggled, looking over at Robin who was laughing too. 

Steve, on the other hand, looked annoyed, returning back to his task of going through his closet. “Heard about me?”

Eddie placed his hands behind his back, looking her up and down. “Yeah, Steve would not shut up about you. However, he didn’t tell me his girl looked like an angel.” 

“Munson, shut up before I tell my dad to call the lawyers off.” Steve threatened. 

Whatever he meant by that, Eddie seemed scared, putting his hands up in surrender. Y/n noticed Steve looked over at Robin. They shared a wordless exchange. Robin stretched her arms out. “Eddie, can you take me home?” 

“Didn’t we just get— ow.” Eddie leaned down to clutch his shin that Robin swore was an accident. It was weird seeing the new addition, and Y/n was sure she would be told everything that had happened while she was gone. 

He took the hint, bowing over dramatically. Him and Robin said their goodbyes, walking out of the room, finally leaving Steve and Y/n by themselves. 

Neither one spoke. The only sound of hangers clanking together and muffled voices from downstairs. Y/n played with the silver bracelet on her wrist, scanning her eyes on the plaid walls, remembering the first time she spent the night with him, waking up and making fun of how disturbing the pattern was. 

She stood up from his bed, approaching him slowly. She wasn’t sure what to say. The phone call was the first real conversation they had in months. What was there even to say? Or how was she supposed to start? She was beside him now, and for some reason, he looked taller than she had remembered. He took his hand off the hanger, turning his body completely towards her. Without a beat, she engulfed the boy in a deep hug. He took a step back, surprised by the sudden contact. 

They never hugged before, which is shocking because they’ve seen each other naked. 

He returned the hug, tightening his grip on her. She heard a quiet sob leave his lips. He burrowed his head in her neck, tears soaking into her shirt. Both of them sank to the floor because his body had become too weak to stand. 

She brushed her fingers through his hair, telling him everything was okay. She was there for him and she wasn’t leaving. 

It took a few minutes for him to calm down, his head had found a place in her lap, mindlessly playing with one of her hands. With her free hand, she continued to run it through his hair. 

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” She finally asked him. 

“We were so close.” He answered. “If I had done things differently.” 

It was a mindless thought but it still hurt Y/n that Steve believed he was responsible for the destruction of Hawkins. “Steve, none of this is your fault. You can’t carry the fate of Hawkin’s on your shoulders.” 

He puffed his cheeks, a long breath of air rolled out of his mouth. He shifted his body, wincing, clutching his side. Y/n tilted her head, pulling the hem of his shirt up, revealing similar bite marks that were on Eddie’s cheek. She didn’t make a comment about it or ask. Part of her didn’t want to know. Instead, she looked up above her at the remaining clothes in the closet, smirking when she saw the familiar brown sweater that he wore on Christmas. “I hope you decide to donate that ugly sweater.” 

Steve’s eyes were closed, but he had a half-hearted smile on his face, knowing what she was referring to. “Too many great memories involve me wearing that sweater.” 

“What? Like us having sex?” The joke felt like thick molasses, drowning her slowly, waiting for a reaction. He didn’t wince, his smile never faltered, nor did he open his eyes. 

“Yeah.” He replied truthfully. “But also when I realized I am undoubtedly in love with you.” 

His confession was cool and collected. She swore there was a smug look on his face and she wanted to wipe it off. For the past couple of months she had struggled to even come to terms with her own feelings and to watch him casually admit it almost made her laugh in disbelief. 

Her silence made him open one eye, looking at her as she focused her eyes on the ceiling above her. “You know, one of the last conversations I remember with Heather was at Daniel Brown’s party senior year. She tried telling me I didn’t hate you as much as I led on. She’s probably laughing at me right now letting you lay on my lap. I’ve always thought you were an arrogant asshole. Don’t get me wrong. You’re still a pain in the ass, but Steve, you care so much about others. When you hung up that phone I was so scared you were going to die because I knew you would sacrifice anything to make sure everyone is okay.

“I would never forgive myself if you had died without knowing how much I care for you.” He sat up, scooching back, her knees touching his leg. His hands were behind him holding his body up. She met his eyes that always seemed to catch the sun, glossy and thick like honey. Like the honey she put in her tea. The tension in her shoulders relaxed. “Becoming friends with you was unexpected. I guess in a way I’ve felt guilty because I’ve been moving on with my life since Heather died. I guess I felt like I was betraying her.” She put a hand on his knee. He leaned forward, grabbing her hand, intertwining their fingers. 

Steve’s face softened and his cheeks turned pink. “I’m sorry about everything. I didn’t want you to think I was using you for sex. Then I was nervous you might not feel the same. I was embarrassed, because I’m crazy about you, Y/n. I cannot stop thinking about you. When you asked if I didn’t think you should call that Edwin guy-” 

“Eric.”

“Whatever his name was.” He rolled his eyes when she giggled. His voice dropped. “I wanted to beg you not to call him. But I felt like it was too selfish of me. Too selfish, wanting you to be my girl.”  

Y/n lifted the corner of her mouth upwards, putting her hand on his cheek, brushing her thumb over the freckle she has been well acquainted with. “You’re allowed to be selfish sometimes.”

His jaw went slack and eyes were wide. He was too pretty for his own good. 

Y/n remembered all the things she wanted to tell him over the course of getting to know him, but never did. She held it all back because she was afraid. She was afraid he hadn’t really changed at all and she had stupidly fell for his charm. She was afraid he would laugh in her face. She would feel like her porch swing that had fallen off the hinges and cracked in half. 

“Falling in love with you was unexpected too.” She whispered, biting her bottom lip. 

“I really want to kiss you.” Steve was already leaning towards her. 

She smiled, ear to ear, allowing the pretty boy with the stupid hair and stupid eyes to be selfish.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #blaize writes #steve fic

[oh-katsuki]

bird of prey (tendou x reader)

series masterlist | ao3

Pairing: Tendou x Reader, Bokuto x Reader

Series Summary: Satori Tendou is your best friend, but you fuck for fun.

Chapter Title: Act I, Scene 1 — Play Like Lovers

Chapter Summary: Satori likes your current arrangement. You're friends, arguably the best of friends, and sometimes you fuck. Well, it's more than sometimes. Like rabbits, really.

Chapter Content Warnings: afab!reader, college au, friends with benefits, no strings attached, angst, oral sex (m!receiving), teasing, bokuto is in this too, ushijima mentions, mentions of breeding, mentions of pregnancy, slowish burn (?) they're already fucking tho so romantically speaking, teasing, dirty talk

Word Count: 6.7k

A/N: i missed tendou and ended up deciding to write this. i don't have any chapters prewritten so updates will likely be slow, but im trying out a new thing so bear with me. it's probably better read on ao3, but im posting it here too. formatting is the bane of my existence. enjoy <3

next >

Satori likes the cold. He always has. He likes the bite of it. The way it makes his skin feel when he’s been standing outside long enough that the cold begins to feel hot across his cheeks.

There’s a certain solitude to winter that Satori appreciates. It’s as if the world has had a blanket thrown over it and everything becomes muffled and quiet. Sometimes winter makes Satori feel like he’s on another planet, floating through a silent universe in a perpetual winter. He especially feels this way when it snows. He loves the world when it’s like this, calm and quiet and so hazy that he can’t see the street sign a block down. 

Satori blinks winter from his eyes, furrowing his eyebrows as they begin to water to fight the cold. He inhales, tucking his hands further into his puffy jacket as the crisp air fills his lungs. It’s a quiet night. The first snowy one of the season, and snowflakes fall like little diamonds onto a thinly coated sidewalk. 

He doesn’t have a particular destination in mind. Satori is just wandering, savoring the feel of the evening as he strolls through his neighborhood. There are a scant few people outside. It's a weeknight and the neighborhood surrounding campus is eerily quiet in these small hours of the morning. Only the occasional drunk or a couple loved up and leaning on one another, their hands intertwined in the pockets of one of their coats. 

Tendou thinks that he could only become one of those two options. The drunk seems to have far less to worry about, stumbling across the sidewalk before coming to a stop on a slanted curve and letting his head fall onto his crossed arms. Not that Satori would want to be him. Don’t get him wrong. He’s not judging. How one man lives his life is absolutely none of Satori’s business and, in the same way he prefers people don’t mind what he does, he won’t mind what the neighborhood drunk does. Still, on a sliding scale of difficulty, the drunk seems to—for the moment—have it easier in Satori’s eyes. Only one person to worry about. 

It’s nearing three in the morning and the world has taken on an eerily slanted feel to it. Satori likes the world like this, calm and quiet. No one to talk to or worry about, only the sound of his boots against the thin layer of snow. There’s no crunch, as it hasn’t stuck yet, but if it keeps snowing like this, Satori thinks that it might. He looks forward to it, tilting his head up toward the sky and feeling the soft sting of bitter cold snow as it falls on his cheeks. 

—

Teeth, tongue, the press of your body arching up to meet his. It’s hot today, the way you move. Rushed like you’re trying to get something done. Music plays quietly from your computer on the desk and your hands fumble blindly around his body, eyes screwed shut as you let your tongue explore the inside of his mouth. 

“You’re eager,” he coos, detaching himself from your lips. 

“Sh, sh, sh,” you mumble, pulling him back down to you by the back of his neck and delivering a sloppy kiss. “Keep your voice down.” 

“Why?” He asks back, still connected at the lips. 

“My housemates don’t know you’re here,” you answer, pushing on his shoulders. 

Tendou gives in, letting you turn him over on the bed so that his back is against your headboard. You settle over his hips evenly, placing yourself like you belong there. He wouldn’t be surprised if you felt that way. This is regular enough that you end up like this a lot. Straddling his thighs with your hands on either side of his face. 

You tilt your head, kissing your way down his jaw. Your lips press onto the side of his neck and he can feel the way your tongue darts out to taste the salt on his neck. Your hands roam freely up the other side of his neck and across the back of his head, almost like you can’t feel enough of him fast enough. They raised goosebumps along his skin, teasing the parts your mouth isn’t touching.

“And I don’t really want them to find out,” you say into his neck. Tendou feels the hum in his collarbone and shutters. 

“And why’s that?” He breathes out, his lithe fingers coming up to pull your hips down against him. Tendou figures that if you’re going to rock your hips back and forth like that, you might as well do it like you mean it. 

“They’ll give me shit for hooking up with you all the time instead of getting a real date,” you answer through your breathing. “Something about self respect.” 

Tendou leans his head back against the headboard, looking at you over the tops of his cheeks. You’ve pulled up his shirt and your body is curled over itself, your mouth smearing down his heaving chest as far as your posture will let it go.

He supposes that’s fair. 

“Suppose you haven’t told them that the no strings attached thing is mutual?” He teases, tilting his head to the side to let you continue to kiss at his neck. 

He slides his fingers under the fabric of your sleep shirt, cool fingertips hitting your warm back. Tendou presses his palm flat on your lower back and you shiver away from him, pushing your chest up against his. He likes the way you move. Something about it scratches an itch he’s got. Like watching marbles in a chain reaction. 

“I have,” you say, reaching between the two of you to undo his pants. Tendou slips his fingers into the waistband of your sweatpants, cupping your ass in his hands. “They just don’t believe me.” 

“Hah,” he laughs, tilting his chin forward to kiss you again. He likes the way you taste. “That’s funny.” 

“Ugh, can we like,” you pull away from him, your eyes glazed over and your eyebrows furrowed. You keep one hand on the back of his neck, the other splayed on his chest and Tendou idly rolls the fat of your ass across his fingertips.

“Can we like, what?” He imitates through a grin, tilting his head. “Not talk about this?” You say, rolling your hips. “Because I really want to fuck you right now and it’s sort of killing my vibe.” 

Tendou chuckles at the way you drop your head and roll your hips against him, tipping his head back again as he lets out a low groan. 

“If it means we get to fuck then sure thing,” he drawls, guiding your hips over his crotch by the fat of your ass.

You groan, exposing the hollow of your throat to him as you lean backwards. Tendou leans up to meet you, placing his lips near your pulse point. He bites down on your neck lightly and savors the slight gasp you let out, salving the ache with a quick swipe of his tongue. You cling to him like velcro, rocking your hips over his hardened cock through your clothes. It’s so desperate that it’s almost juvenile, though you’re both well past the phase of being too prudish to not take them off. 

He sighs, sliding his hands from your ass and up your back. He cups your shoulders around your body, letting you move your hips against him. Tendou finds that he likes to let you do what you want. There’s really nothing you can’t take from him and as far as he’s concerned, nothing’s off limits. He’s playing a game and right now, letting you win is the most interesting option.

You reach between them to pick up where you left off, fumbling in his pants to palm at him over his boxers, still rocking your hips against the inside of your wrist. Satori groans lightly at the weight of your hand. He likes it. His dick just fucking fits. 

You slide your hand back and forth, teasing him the way that you know he likes it. God, in moments like these, Satori is convinced that you’re perfect. You and that perfect body, that perfect fucking pussy. All of it just sort of clicks. 

The sexual chemistry between the two of you is palpable. It really always has been. Even when the two of you swore up and down that you were just friends, Satori knew that eventually you’d fuck. And of course, he was right. Months later and here he is, leaning up against your headboard after sneaking in through the window while you give him an over-the-boxers handjob that feels better than what he can do to himself for some reason. 

You need it almost every night, and if it isn’t every night, it’s at least three times a week. You’re always together anyways, might as well throw some heavy petting into the mix while you’re at it. That’s just as well with Tendou. Personally, he’s always willing to fuck you if you need it. Especially when you need it. You just get this pretty look in your eye. It’s a lot like the one you’re wearing now, mouth slightly open as you free him from his boxers and swipe the precum from the tip of his dick with your thumb. Satori shudders. It’s perfect. 

“If you’re going to fuck me, you should just do it,” he says, his face contorting slightly as you grip his cock in your hand and begin to shift backward between his legs. 

“Shut up,” you retort, looking at him through your lashes. “I know you love this shit.” 

“Yeah, fuck-” he groans as you take the tip of him into your mouth. “You’re right. I love a tease.” 

Good conversation. Good sex. A good friend. There’s really nothing more he could ask for. 

Satori brushes the hair from your face, holding it back on your forehead so that he can see the way your mouth takes him in. It’s soft and warm and you hollow your cheeks around his cock in a way that drives him insane. You look so pretty down there. So giving and malleable. And get this, you do it because you like it. God, how fucking sexy. 

He likes the way you look from this angle, your eyebrows knitted together and your ass up in the air. He can see the way you rub your thighs together, small pulses that tell him that when he finally gets down there, you’re going to be soaked. You feel good too. Soft skin, soft mouth. 

Satori lets out a groan, reaching forward to play with the meat of your ass. He kneads the skin there, rubbing his thumb back and forth against it as if he were just trying to feel it. It hides your face from him for a moment and Satori is sad for the loss, but your ass is soft and giving and you push it back against his hand like you like the way he touches you. Of course you do, Satori only touches you in ways he knows you’re going to like. It gets him off. 

You swirl your tongue around his cock, your other hand gripping the base of him and moving along with your mouth. When you do try to take him all the way in, you cough lightly around it, raising your head to catch your breath before lowering your mouth back down. His lower stomach ties itself into knots. That familiar swell begins to mount in him and his muscles tense against his will. Your mouth works him until that slow moving wave pushes against whatever barrier it needs to break for him to finish. 

You stop before he gets to cum and Satori feels that swell of pleasure recede into the back of his gut. He pouts momentarily, his chest heaving as you discard your sweatpants and crawl back over him. 

Satori places his hand over your cunt like it's a habit. He rubs over your slick folds with four fingers, evening applying pressure across your whole pussy because he knows that it frustrates you. In response, you let out an exasperated groan and grind down against his hand. That only makes it better when he finally centers in on your clit, two fingers dipped between your lips to rubbing at the throbbing bud. 

He plays with it for a moment, moving his fingers in a continuous circle. You’re so wet that Satori doesn’t even need to lick his fingers, but he does anyway because he wants to taste you. Slowly, he raises them to his lips and sucks your pleasure off of them, eyeing you while he does so. Then, he places his other hand on your chin and gently forces your mouth open, sliding his two fingers across your tongue. 

The muscle gives under the weight of his fingers. Pleasantly, delightfully, you let him mold you. You let him open your mouth further and stick them deeper—all the way into the warm, wet back of your mouth—until you gag around them. It’s an awful sound. Wet and desperate and it leaves you panting when he pulls them out, but Satori likes you messy. He likes you when you’re drooling for it, saliva pooling under your tongue for just a taste of what he gives you. 

Don’t get him wrong, it’s not a power trip thing. It’s borne out of pure fascination. Like the way scientists like to study molecules, Satori likes to study you. You’re interesting to him. The first to follow through on sex only being sex because Satori—well, Satori fucks you like he loves you. And he loves that you don’t get caught up in it. 

You’re desperate for it today. Satori can tell because you don’t even let him finger you before you’re guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance. 

“What? No condom?” He drawls through a sly grin. 

“Not tonight,” you pant, screwing your eyes shut. Satori’s hands move to your hips, squeezing the fat there and admiring its delightful give. “Don’t have one.” 

“What ever happened to safe sex?” He says through gritted teeth, craning his neck forward to get a good view. 

“You worried you gonna get me pregnant?” you give a breathy laugh, sinking all the way down on him. 

“Depends, you gonna let me finish inside?” he asks through a locked jaw as he feels the warmth of you envelop him. 

“Fuck no,” you say, beginning to move your hips. 

Satori inhales through his teeth, leaning backwards and holding you by the hips. You take the lead tonight, rolling your hips forward with slow, almost calculated, flicks. He guides you, his fingers gripping at the side of your ass, pulling it apart as best he can. He likes the way it feels when he holds you like this and wonders briefly what it looks like from the back when he lets you fuck him like this. 

The music from your laptop is drowned out by the quiet sounds of your breathing. The only thing Satori really hears is the both of you, stifling moans to prevent your housemates from figuring out what you’re up to. He grits his teeth. 

Satori has always been on the more vocal side of things. Talking, moaning, laughing, things like that. This though, this is hot too. Like this, he can hear every little change in your breathing. He can hear every time he hits that particularly sensitive spot inside of you. Shit, he can even hear his own breathing, labored and low and mirroring your desperation like you’re both cut from the same cloth. 

He loves being inside of you. It’s comfortable. It always feels good in a way Satori has found is hard to come by. You’ve got a good pussy and an even better attitude about it. 

When you get close, you always take in a sharp and fast inhale. It’s like a tell. Something that gives away just how good you feel. Satori loves the sound of it. Sometimes, he’ll edge you three or four times just to hear it, just to savor that sweet intake of breath. Tonight though, he’s going to let you have it easy. You deserve to have it easy tonight, as desperate as you are, and this is fun for him too. This position makes it easy to feel just how tight you get when you’re close, pussy clamping down around him at a fast interval even with the upward pumps of his hips. 

He’s too impatient to let you fuck him on your own. Satori lets you have it your way, but he wants it his way too, accenting the roll of your hips with subtle pumps. He grips your hips, his fingers sinking delightfully into the fat there and holds you at a good enough angle to fuck. The weight of your breath comes heavy, that little accent and then a slow crawl from your lungs. You shudder, mouth falling open. And Satori, well Satori watches. In fascination, in awe, in sheer pleasure. 

“Oh shit,” you breathe, glancing at him. “Yeah, yeah.” 

Oh, he loves that. Those little nothings that you babble when you’re breathless and climbing towards that high. Satori can’t get enough of it. Your voice, the cadence of it, how heavy it sounds on your tongue when you force out the sex-laced words. 

You crumble quickly. It’s almost desperate the way you push your hands onto his chest and let your head fall forward, cunt clenching down hard around him as you stop the roll of your hips to shudder. Your thighs press harshly against Satori’s sides and he digs his fingers into your hips to keep from cumming inside of you. That’d be pretty bad, though he can’t say that it’s not endlessly tempting. 

You don’t waste a moment pulling yourself off of him, wrapping your hand around is cum-slicked cock and beginning to pump. You squeeze the head of it and Satori lets out a low groan. God, you’re being so quick about this that it would almost be jarring if Satori didn’t find it so fucking hot. You’re like… desperate for it. Christ, he thinks he’s gonna cum. 

“Can I finish on your face?” He grits out. 

“No,” you reply, teasing him by pressing your thumb over the head of his dick. “On your chest. I like it when you make a mess of yourself.” 

Then, a familiar, teasing smile lights up across your face. Your breath is still heaving and it makes the expression feel more genuine. Satori leans his head back against the headboard eyebrows pulled upwards in his pleasure. 

“You’re fuckin’ sadistic,” he laughs out. 

It’s half a groan, his voice strained and thick with his imminent high. He reaches up to toy with your tits, anything really that he can grab. Satori gets handsy when he’s close and he feels the way pleasure mounts in his lower stomach like water fills a bucket. 

Then, he peaks, his cum spilling out over his chest. Satori makes an effort to muffle his voice when he does, gritting his jaw and squeezing the flesh of your tit as an outlet for the pleasure of it all. The mess he’s made is warm, spilling into the ridges of his abdomen and the soft lines of muscle there.He’ll have to shower again when he gets home. For the moment though, he just watches his chest heave as you let go of his dick and reach to put two of your messy fingers in his mouth. Satori obliges, swirling his tongue around them. 

“Hah, you’re disgusting.” 

“You’re the one who likes it, sweetheart,” he drones, reaching to take some tissues from the nightstand and wipe up his mess. 

“Throw those in the bin,” you say, laying down on your bed as he stands. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” 

Satori stretches for a moment, inspecting his clothes to ensure that the mess was minimal. He turns to look at you on the bed. Your eyes are closed, arms above your head with your sleep shirt riding up on your body, revealing a small glimpse of your fleshy stomach. God, he almost wants to fuck you again. 

“Move over,” he says, bullying his way into the bed next to you. 

“Fine, but you can’t stay for long,” you reply, lifting your head and putting it back down on his chest. You face the ceiling, picking at your nails. “I gotta shower and finish up a paper.” 

“You have a paper to finish but you called me over to fuck?” 

“Duh,” you reply. “Needed some sort of stress relief.” 

“Most people just eat a bowl of cereal or something,” he says through a smile, his lips curling up in the corners. 

You huff and roll your eyes, letting out a short and genuine laugh. “Whatever, you just can’t stay too long, ‘kay?” 

“You got it,” he chuckles, rolling his eyes lightly. 

Satori tucks his arm under his head, watching your ceiling fan as it spins in circles. He hates the ceiling in your room. You’ve got popcorn ceilings, something that Satori is particularly disdainful of. It’s why he likes having you over at his place, with its smooth and well painted walls. Plus, you can fuck as loud as you want and there’ll be no one there in the morning to hound you both over it. 

You can’t stay for long. 

He never really understood why you always tell him that. Even without it, Satori never really does. 

—

Satori’s morning routine isn’t really a routine at all. On days where he has nothing to do, he rolls out of bed at whatever time he pleases. Sometimes that’s 12 in the afternoon and other times that’s 5:30 in the morning. 

He tries his best to avoid early morning classes. Truthfully, he tries his best to avoid classes at all, but hey, when you’re getting a degree, that’s not really an option. Satori’s been relatively successful in that endeavor, keeping most of his class schedule well within the 11 am to 4 pm range, except for one pesky little discussion. Once a week, on Tuesdays, Satori has to drag himself out of bed and be in the classroom at 8 am sharp. 

It’s not that he isn’t driven, or isn’t a morning person. Satori just isn’t a rules person, which doesn’t exactly function well within a societal structure. There are always rules. Ones that tell you when to cross the road, where to park your car, when to be somewhere or when not to be somewhere. The fact that he has to get up early on Tuesdays makes him needlessly resistant to getting up, even if he’s awake already. 

Satori blinks away sleep in the quiet of his room. He’s woken up about fifteen minutes before his 6:50 alarm and now stares blankly at the ceiling with his arms tucked behind his head. What a drag, getting up like this and going immediately into the daily slog, not that anything can be done about it. 

He inhales, preparing himself to sit up, before actually doing so. His muscles scream at him, sore with sleep and aching for a good stretch which he gladly obliges with a loud yawn. Cartoonish, almost. Satori laughs to himself as he pulls his body from the bed. 

His room is messy. Clothes are strewn about haphazardly across the floor and various items that he’d picked up to mess around with are out of place. He exhales, shaking his head a little bit and telling himself that he’ll clean it when he gets back. It’s not that he minds the mess. In fact, Satori likes a little organized mess. Like what you and him are doing. That’s messy in the most delightful way. But right now, his room is a little too messy, verging on the precipice of dirty, which Satori hates. 

He tosses on a soft, long-sleeved t-shirt. It’s the kind of shirt that he’s had for a long while, the ones that feel smooth on his skin. The fabric is so worn that it falls over him almost like tissue paper and he loves the feeling. His black jeans are hanging over the back of his desk chair and he grabs them quickly, shrugging them on over his hips with two quick steps and a pull. The ink on them is faded and though they started their life black, they are now almost a dark gray and look even lighter at the knees and backs of the thighs. He thinks he’ll have to get a new pair soon. Gray doesn’t look as nice with other colors as black does. 

The sink in his bathroom is nearly empty, save for one single face wash, his toothbrush, and some toothpaste. He uses all of them in that order, hardly glancing up to look at himself in the mirror except to fix his scraggly long hair. He fiddles with it for a moment, running his fingers through minor tangles that worked themselves into his hair while he slept, before deciding that it looks good enough. The rest of it will sort itself out during the day and fall flat. 

His dish is in the sink from the night before and he briefly loads it into the dishwasher and runs it, chiding himself mentally with an eye roll for not doing it the night before. There’s always a 50/50 chance in the morning that Satori has forgotten to run the dishwasher and it antagonizes him as much as anything can antagonize Satori, which really isn’t much. 

There’s a black puffer jacket hanging by the door of his modest apartment. It’s a size too big for him, but it’s warm and looks nice on his figure, so he sees no use in telling his mother that she’d gotten the wrong size. It was a gift from her at the beginning of the winter season last year, along with a hat that Satori never wears. The jacket, at the very least, gets some use on account of it suiting his own personal style. 

He’s grateful for it when he steps outside of his apartment, shrugging it closer to him as the familiar bite of winter rushes up and under his skin. The sun has only just risen and the world is cast in a familiar orange, pink, and purple glow that makes it feel like a painting. Satori doesn’t mind being out in the world when it’s still asleep. Especially not in the early morning hours just before the sun comes up, when the world is cast in blue as if it were covered in film. Today though, it’s late enough that the world is now wide awake and the bustle of it gives Satori a headache. 

He passes businessmen on their way to work, girls in school uniforms rushing to make it through the gate of their school on time, their loafers smacking the floor with a delightful and intrusive clicking sound. His campus is only a few blocks away, around two corners and a straight shot until he hits the main building. He got lucky with his apartment’s location and sacrificed nice amenities for its proximity to his classes. The apartment itself may be crap, but Satori finds it worthwhile for how near it is to the things he cares about. That, and it doesn’t have popcorn ceilings, thank god. 

The snow hasn’t stuck yet, which means that the sidewalk is damp with melting ice as the sun begins to warm the pavement beneath it. His shoes will get damp like this. The converse do little to repel the water, instead soaking it in like a sponge. He’s careful to avoid puddles, but should he hit one, Satori won’t dwell. They’ll dry at some point. 

He can see the school up ahead. Satori isn’t really a fan of the building style. They’re stuffy and a bit reminiscent of the industrial buildings just outside of the Sendai city limits, but Tohoku University is a good school and Satori thinks it would have been a waste to not accept his admission. As the buildings grow closer, Satori can see the bodies of students wandering. Some talk in small groups and others, the more independent of them, walk hurriedly to their classes with heavy backpacks slung over both shoulders. Their backs curl forward a little, feeling the pressure of the weight.

Right through the quad, through the double doors, and up to the second floor. That’s the path Satori needs to take to get to his classroom, though he’s about 10 minutes early. He pauses just outside of the building, tilting his head to the side as he spots a familiar silhouette. A smile creeps onto his face, lips curling in the corners as he recognizes you. 

You’re having a conversation with someone, though Satori can’t quite make out who exactly it is. They’re standing partially behind one of the trees, their broad figure concealed by the trunk of it. As he approaches, he recognizes the other person to be Bokuto Koutarou, one of the core members of the university’s volleyball team. What an odd pair to be seen together, and so early in the morning too. Then, Bokuto leans down and pecks you on the cheek and Satori is more confused than he’s been in a while. When did you get close? When did you start seeing him? 

A pit forms in his stomach, though not the kind he’s familiar with. Messy, messy. 

“Bokuto, huh?” he says as he approaches behind you, watching with you as the other man walks away. “When did you and him get so… close.” He drags out the last word, hissing out the S through a small smile. 

“That,” you start, “is none of your business. It just sort of happened.” 

Satori gives you a coy smile, tilting his head in your direction. 

“Does he know?” He questions genuinely. 

“Know what?” 

“About us,” he croons, leaving no room for misinterpretation. 

You give him a pointed glance, an eyebrow raised. He knows the look. It’s the one you give him when he’s said something stupid or far too obvious. 

“We,” you emphasize, “are friends.” 

“Oh yeah,” he nods, tucking his hands into his pockets and leaning back as he follows your step. “We’re really good friends. And we fuck for fun.” 

You laugh. It’s a shrill laugh, and totally comfortable. He can’t see an ounce of tension in your shoulders and they’re relaxed in the way they usually are when the two of you speak. Satori looks down at you over the tops of his cheeks and a sly grin spreads across his face. 

“Well,” you say, though it seems to not have any real purpose in your sentence. It’s almost like an admittance that he’s right, which he knows he is. “What does it matter if he knows, anyway? What’s there to know?” 

Satori stops walking, his hands buried deep into his pockets. His head hangs forward and his jaw is open in faux confusion. The strain in his neck posing like this is worth the smile you give him, he thinks. 

“That we fuck,” he states, saying it almost as if it’s a shock to him as well. 

You stop to  roll your eyes and Satori quite likes the way that the expression looks on you. Fed up, but pleasantly so. It gives your features a somewhat light, carefree sense. You look away from him for a moment, almost as if to accentuate just how nonsensical his manner of speaking is, before looking at his face and narrowing your eyes. You size him up and then give a small grin, almost mischievous in nature. 

“He suspects,” you say. “But it doesn’t seem like he thinks too hard about it. I think he might if we were like… ex’s or romantically involved, but we’re not, so,” you shrug your shoulders. “Besides, it’s not serious enough for him to mind yet.” 

“Yet?” Satori raises his eyebrows and gives you an incredulous smile. 

Despite his demeanor, he feels something odd. It’s almost like his stomach is about to drop, and an unsettling feeling of dread begins to loom over him. You turn to look at him over your shoulder, impossibly pretty eyes giving him a very square look in the face.

“Yet,” you confirm, your tone a bit sharp as if to warn him that he’s stepping too close to the line. 

He’s not sure what he’s done to warrant that kind of reaction. Satori thought that he’d come off rather disconnected, aloof in the way that your agreement is, but it’s entirely possible that he’d sounded insecure. He furrows his brows at you, almost like he’s confused himself, and then shrugs in a non committal way. 

“Right,” he says, beginning to spin on his heel in an exaggerated manner. “Well, you have fun with Mr. Center-Of-Campus,” he smiles, continuing his sentence,” and I… will be going to my photography lab discussion.” 

“You do that,” you laugh, putting up a hand to wave. “I’ll catch you later.” 

“I’m sure you will,” he says, to which you respond by giving him a tired look and a shrug, like you’re admitting to the implication that you just can’t go without it. It being whatever the hell kind of sexual relationship exists between you two. 

Neither he nor you turns behind to glance at the other. Satori starts off back in his original direction and you dip into the building next to his. He’s sure that if he looked, you’d have your fingers looped through the straps of your backpack, probably greeting someone or other that you know on campus. 

You’re popular in a way that Satori isn’t. Truthfully, Satori is more notorious than liked and people know him for his strange, roundabout way of speaking and the knowing look in his eye. It doesn’t bother him to think that. He’s heard the way people talk about him, either directly from you or from walking up to a conversation a few moments too early. It doesn’t suit anyone to pretend that he doesn’t know and he doesn’t really mind knowing. It helps to weed out the people he wants to be around versus the people he doesn’t.

You, however, are very well liked. Sociable and blunt in your way of speaking. People like being around you, not just because you’re easy to look at, but because you’ve got a casual demeanor about yourself that makes people feel unjudged and at ease. It’s actually one of the first things that Satori had ever noticed about you, the way that you settle into a conversation as if you’d always been meant to be a part of it. No need to switch subjects or guide it to a more suitable position, you seem to blend effortlessly into social scenes, whether you notice it or not. Maybe it’s because you’re very true to yourself. You don’t recognize yourself as a perfect person and, as a result, you never hold the expectation that someone else should be perfect. 

Satori thinks you’re like-minded in that way, though his interpretation of other people’s flaws is more rooted in his treatment by others. People are quick to judge and in all his years of being judged, Satori has just come to accept that that’s the way things are and he can’t blame humans for simply being human. Still though, he has the same idea that people’s flaws aren’t a reason for judgment. They just… exist and that’s fine. 

He slides into a desk along the wall, quickly glancing around the room at the people who have already filed in. He’s only a few minutes early and most of his class are already in their seats with their cameras on their desk. Satori doesn’t know many people in this discussion and the majority of his class is either made up of girls that are too afraid to introduce themselves, or pretentious boys who spend too much time thinking about what tortured artists they are and too little time on the actual composition of their photos. 

He wishes that Ushiwaka had been able to take this class with him. Satori had suggested that he try to enroll at the beginning of the spring semester, but with the class being an upper division, Ushiwaka didn’t have the previous coursework to be able to do it. Besides, Wakatoshi isn’t really in school for the classes, but rather because he’d been scouted by the campus’ volleyball team to play for them and Wakatoshi had gone because it was a good opportunity to get into the professional division. In that sense, Satori feels that he’s falling behind his friend. After all, Wakatoshi knows what he wants, but Satori only knows what he likes. 

This class is pretty irritating. Not just because he has to get up and leave for it at the asscrack of dawn, but also because he feels that the discussions lack any real insight. Every week, they’re expected to upload their photos onto their computers and bring them to class, then, they spend the entire hour going around and discussing goals for the project and what could be improved with their current techniques. It would be useful if Satori didn’t find that so many people half-assed their photos the day before and then brought them in with some made up philosophy on why the snow in the crack of the sidewalk symbolizes their incessant need for human connection. 

He doesn’t think this way because he’s innocent of half-assing. In fact, Satori half-asses a lot. Sometimes because he can’t be bothered and other times because he finds the work less valuable than something else he could be doing. Still, he likes taking pictures and this is a class centered entirely on developing a personal work portfolio. It’s easy for him to do the assignments because it’s essentially what he does in his free time anyway, so there are times when he feels that maybe these people just don’t care too much about school at all. That’s a fine thought to have, he thinks. Most artists think like that in some way or another. 

Satori wonders if it’s the same in your major. Do literature students phone it in and do you find it irritating? He thinks you probably aren’t bothered by it if they do. It wouldn’t be in your nature to get worked up over the actions of others. You hardly even get worked up over your own actions and he thinks it would be weird to see you get in your head over someone else. 

He sits through his class though, explaining the photo he’d taken of you in the early morning after you’d spent the whole evening talking and touching each other. Your face is obscured and your belly is pressed down against the mattress. It’s really only an off centered photo of your back, displaying the lovely curve of it against the crumpled white bed sheets and a bit of your hair. There may not be anything special about the photo to anyone else, but Satori remembers how badly he’d wanted to photograph you then. 

Intimacy is pleasant to him in small doses. He likes to play pretend when it comes to loving and he’ll touch you like he loves you, let you touch him like you do, but Satori doesn’t ever think he’ll do it for real. At least not right now when he is so consumed by catching up to his peers in some arbitrary way. Still, the picture is a pleasant reminder to him that intimacy exists even in the most mundane of moments. Arguably, it is most present in them. 

He doesn’t say all of this to his class though and someone describes the photo as almost pornographic, which he supposes that it is. It gives the impression of two people just after they’ve gone to bed together and he laughs to himself because that’s exactly what it is. Satori just shrugs his shoulders at the comment. That’s just about what your physical relationship to each other is, isn’t it? Almost pornographic in nature, indulging in each other the way lovers might without ever stopping to think if romantic love factors into the actions at all.

#tendou x reader #tendou satori x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto kotaro x reader #tendou smut #yeah!!! #WOO HOO #i always get so nervous posting stuff #especially series #tries to be casual about it #tw: teasing #tw: mentions of pregnancy #tw: mentions of breeding #also i was inspired by bria and lily's rp w me for this so <333

[mothdruid]

The Physics of Love - Prologue

series masterlist | part one

pairing.

robert 'bob' floyd x afab!reader

warnings.

insecurities, previously experienced misogyny in STEM, self-doubt. this content is meant for those who are 18 and older.

authors note.

professor coleman (hondo) is a real one who loves his students. but let me know what you think so far! i will be doing a tag list for this series, so if you would like to join that, let me know.

The red ink stared back at you menacingly. Every minus one, minus two, minus three points marks taunting you. Sixty-eight out of one hundred. It wasn’t the worst you had scored in the class, but it was too far into the semester for you to drop. If only you had actually considered it a few weeks ago. That foolish woman in STEM mentality got the better of you though.

“If there are any issues with scores, let me know after class.” Professor Coleman announced.

It was as if the whole classroom failed, many students hanging back to talk with Professor Coleman. And you were no exception, slowly packing your bag while leaving your test on the table. You flipped through it a little bit as you waited after packing. It wasn’t that you were embarrassed, you just weren’t sure what to do from here on out.

“Issue with your score?” Professor Coleman asked.

You shook your head, letting out a soft chuckle.

“No, I just,” your hand tightened on the marked up papers, “don’t know what to do.”

Professor Coleman gave you a questioning look. You watched as he adjusted his glasses, staring at you with an odd kindness. The tension in your shoulders started to dissipate, your body finally relaxing enough to let your frustration sift into worry.

“If I don’t pass this class, boom, bam, degree gone,” you set the packet on the table. It was annoying to think that this class would potentially make it or break it for you. Stripping you of that geology degree you had yearned for since junior high. Math? A struggle but doable. Chem? Not too bad. Physics? The bane of your existence.

“It’s not like the final is next week. You have passed both exams so far.”

“Barely,” your hands were starting to clench up. It was a nervous habit, one you couldn’t seem to shake.

“Still passed though,” Professor Coleman offered you a smile.

"My degree requires a C plus, something that looks impossible right now," you sighed, tightly running your forefinger and thumb across your forehead to block your vision. It was beyond frustrating.

"Have you thought about looking for a tutor?"

A tutor? Was he being serious? How could anyone help you learn this cursed subject? Let alone get you to retain the information. Plus, you had tried it last semester. It ended in a bit of a failure, on your part and the tutors.

"Yeah, last semester. Tutor got frustrated because I couldn't pick it up, and I got frustrated about not picking it up quickly and it was just," you removed your hand only to be greeted with a soft frown, "it didn't work."

"Would you be willing to give it another try?" Professor Coleman asked, pushing his hands in his pockets.

"I uh… I don't know. I'm not a huge fan of the tutor program here, especially after last semester." You looked over at him with a frown and shrugged. "Maybe this is the universe's way of telling me to give up on geology."

"Hey, some of the best things in life are hard to get, and this might be one of them." Coleman smiled softly at you.

Doubt with a hint of shame swirled around your mind. A storm cloud that didn't want to dissipate. As much as you wanted to believe his words, it was hard. It was hard enough to make it in this field anyways. Hell, any STEM major was hell to get into. It was exceptionally worse though being a female in the field though. You had had classmates and professors act as if you didn't belong among them. And now, it felt like it was all true.

"What if I found you a tutor? Hand picked by me," Coleman shrugged, his words catching your attention.

"Oh, you don't have to do that, I can just fail and go about taking it next semes-"

"I don't want to see you fail."

The two of you stood there for a moment, staring at each other. Coleman had been the first professor that had seemed to actually care about how you did, which was rare for a STEM professor. Most of them had a sink or swim mentality with their subjects, but not him. Not good ole Hondo.

You had heard about Professor Coleman through a few of your other classmates in your program. He used to be an astrophysicist for NASA but then decided to pursue the field of teaching. Or at least that is what you heard through the grapevine. He taught a collection of undergrad students and grad students. You heard Professor Mitchell call him crazy one time for teaching so many students, but you didn't think that Professor Mitchell had much room to talk.

"I don't know if anyone you pick will put up with my incompetence for physics," you hate to admit it, but it was true. You were incompetent at the subject, basically hopeless.

"You're not incompetent, we all have areas we struggle with. I have the perfect person in mind anyways," Professor Coleman said with a smile while leaning back against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yeah? Who?" You gave him a curious look.

"It will be a surprise," Coleman said as he pushed up off his desk. He took a few steps over to you. "He will be helpful and patient, because it sounds like you haven't had much of that so far."

"But what if–"

Professor Coleman held his hand up to stop your words.

"No buts, and please just trust me."

"Fine, but if this doesn't work out," you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, "you're paying for my second semester of Physics ll."

Professor Coleman grinned, holding his hand out for you to take. The two of you shook hands, sealing the deal. As much as you didn't want to, there was an overwhelming feeling about you failing flowing through you. It felt like the only outcome, all your insecurities about your place in the world bubbling to the surface. But somewhere, deep down inside of you was a bubble or two, telling you that this tutor would help you survive the rest of the semester.

#bob floyd #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x afab reader #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfic #the physics of love #tutor!bob floyd

[portfolio-of-dreams]

just, friends? | yuta okkotsu x afab! reader

warnings: 18+, minors dni! enemies to lovers(ish), yuta is mean, sparring/fighting, (do you count that?), dom! yuta, a lil possessive, marking, nipple play, shower sex, spiting, slight exhibitionism, reader gets called baby, language, pussy inspection, oral (f!receiving), orgasm denial, dacryphilia, cervix fucking, tummy buldge, creampie, unprotected sex (wear ur raincoat), slight dumbification, reader gets spanked once, dirty talk (kinda ig), squirting, cum eating, cum … swapping.

w/c: 3.5k

a/n: back on my yuta brainrot. another thank you to @xshinigamikittenx for being my beta-reader. you’re awesome and your comments make my day. kissing u softly. REPOST TO SEE SOMETHING.

“Hey, watch it Okkotsu!” you grumbled towards the raven haired man who bumped shoulders with you as you walked on opposite sides of the pathway on campus.

“Maybe if you watched where you were walking, you would have seen me.” He rolled his eyes as he turned on his heels.

You didn’t know what it was but everything about Yuta Okkotsu made your blood boil. Everything he had, everything he was- you just hated. His stupid smirk that would plaster across his face when Gojo congratulated him on another job well done, even though you were his assigned partner for it. His cursed technique always got all the attention. Yuta is so special. Yuta is going to be the strongest. Yuta was the bane of your existence. You knew he didn’t like you either because he always requested to go on missions with you because your cursed tools worked well with him- he preferred to fight in close range whereas you were the long range assistance. You felt as though he asked for you because he knew he would get all the credit and he could rub it in later on. You were just as naturally gifted with your abilities as he was. But it was always about dumb Yuta.

You got so lost in frustrating thoughts you had walked an entire circle around campus. Well, what better way to blow off some steam then go train in the dojo? You took a moment to compose yourself and turned to go back in the direction of the training room.

You pushed open the tall, wooden doors to find your teacher inside. “Oh, Gojo. Sorry, I didn’t know anyone would be in here.”

He looked at you with a soft smile, eyes hidden behind his black bandana. “Not an issue, y/n! Came to blow off some steam it looks like?”

You just nodded your head and he clapped his hands together. “Perfect, I’ll help you out.”

You dropped your bag on the side along the wall and took a fighting stance in front of Gojo. He said whenever you were ready to start, but not to tell him or show any expression that you were going to swing at him. You took a deep breath, counted to three in your mind and exhaled. You stood there for a moment and then quickly bent down to sweep your leg at his ankles. He hopped over it without even paying attention. You kicked your leg up to try to hit him but to no avail. In one quick motion you were back on your feet, sending a right hook towards him to which he responded by leaning to the left. He didn’t throw any punches or really try to defend against your attacks. You huffed as you realized you were getting nowhere like this, even after twenty minutes of being at it. Then you got an idea.

You kept at the jabs in his direction, each one he dodged easily, not even breaking a sweat. You dug your toe in the space on the mat and fell forward. To which he stepped quickly towards you, catching you in his arms and you smirked.

You lightly tapped the underside of his jaw with your fist, “Got ya.”

He laughed in response, lifting the corner of his blindfold with his thumb, looking at you with a sapphire crystal eye “You sure did.”

And then you heard the most dramatic throat clear. You turned your head as Gojo set you on your feet, and saw the lowered annoyed eyes of Yuta. He walked towards the two of you, his eyes trained on your figure. He was slightly taller than you and looked down once he was close enough and feigned an innocent smile that spread across his chapped lips.

“I was hoping I could train a little tonight as well.” And he turned his head to glare at Gojo with honest eyes but you knew it was all an act.

“Sure! Actually, that works perfectly. It’s time for my evening teasing of Nanamin.” He joked as he skipped out of the dojo.

Yuta snapped his head back at you, growling at you to pick up your bamboo kendo stick. You stuck your tongue out at him as you turned to the barrel of sticks to pull one out to use. You took a stance in front of him as he slid one foot behind the other and bent his knees slightly. The both of you lunged forwards, sticks connecting at the tip with a thwack. You jumped backward and stabbed your stick towards his stomach which he jumped out of the way from. Your sticks clacked and snapped against each other with every swing. Feet padding against the mat floor as you two danced and moved in tandem like you could predict the movements of the other person. Yuta’s face fell and his brows knitted together, he wanted this to be over already. He lunged at you with his kendo stick, making you move to your left to avoid being hit and at the same time, he swiped his foot at your ankles, making you topple over.

“I won.” He said blandly as your anger bubbled over, jumping to your feet.

“You cheated. Playing dirty like that.” Your words seethed towards him as he gave you a light shove past you as you walked to the edge of the room to where you dropped your bag.

You rolled your eyes at him, before turning your attention to the floor to pick up your jacket and backpack. In a swift motion, he was pressing his body against yours, your back pushed up against the cool wall of the room.

“Funny that you thought you could take me down.” His hand moved up, holding your chin in his slender fingers. He tilted your head to the side, allowing him access to your sweat slicked skin.

“F- fuck you, Okkotsu.” You knew he didn’t miss the way your words collapsed.

His warm breath fanned over you as he placed his other hand against the wall on the side of your face, slightly above you, his lips just inches away. You let your eyes slip closed when you felt them crash greedily against yours, feeling sparks light up from your spine down to your toes. You shouldn’t feel like this- you hated him, right?

Yuta’s tongue dragged roughly over the seam of your lips, demanding entrance. You fought against him; only allowing him to tug on yours. He bit your lip hard enough for you to part them and slide his tongue inside. It was heated and rough- unlike any kiss you've had before. Breathy moans escaped your mouths as teeth clashed. Every sound was swallowed by Yuta’s mouth. Goosebumps spread across your skin and you shivered, feeling him smirk as he squeezed you, grabbing your waist so forcefully you were sure there would be small bruises, pulling you as close to him as possible. You stayed there with him, in a kiss so hungry, so needy it felt possessive. It suffocated your senses and dulled your thoughts to the point you only remembered to move your lips against his with the same vigor.

How much time had passed before you finally broke the connection? You finally looked up to meet his blue eyes, a blue deeper than the ocean abyss. The golden hues of the evening sun seeped through the cladded dojo windows and slanted across Yuta’s face. You felt your stomach clench and pushed his hair off his forehead where it had sat flatly. You dug your teeth into your bottom lip and inched closer, sliding one of your thighs up between his. A loan groan escaped his parted mouth, and he pushed your leg down to be replaced with his own.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this”- he smirks, licking a wet stripe along the vein in your neck- “And you were just getting too close to Gojo for my liking tonight.” He spoke as he moved his thigh up, rubbing it against your core.

“Yuta. We’re in public” You barely choked out between moans.

“Then I guess you better keep quiet then.” He growled lowly as his teeth worked the sensitive spot on your neck.

The heat of his lips caused your head to roll back, hitting the wall behind you, your sweat trailing down your temple leaving wet stains against the concrete. He smirked as he continued to kiss and suck at that sweet spot that made you moan his name. He would no doubt leave a mark, as he continued his movements against your sweet skin. Your hands moved up to run through his hair but he quickly grabbed them, slamming them above you with one hand wrapped around your wrists. You inhaled sharply as he rubbed his thigh harsher against your clothed cunt. Your moans became more apparent, echoing in the space. The hand he had on your chin, moves to cover your mouth as you hear the door open. He stands there, staring into your eyes, continuing to grind his thigh on you.

“Shh, baby. We don't want to be found” He smirks at you.

He picks you up easily, stepping lightly towards the open showers. His lips are rough against yours- needy and desperate to taste you again. He places you up against the wall, holding you in place with one strong arm as the other reaches over, turning on the warm water, exposing your breasts. He breaks apart from the kiss- a trail of saliva connecting you two together still. His eyes travel down to your perked nipples, you hear him mutter a shit, before taking one into his mouth. His tongue swirls around the hardened bud as the hand that's snaked around your waist, grabs at the plush of your skin. Your moans become louder, only slightly muffled by the shower running. Your hands, finally free- run through his hair, pushing his mouth further onto your chest. He continues to nip at the bud as he sets you down. He pulls his mouth off with a pop and takes both in between his fingers, twisting and tugging at the supple flesh. He watches as you squirm, chest heaving into his touch. He chuckles lightly at your groans and pulls until you’re released and then he flicks both sensitive nubs which makes you wince backward. He places a soft kiss to the valley between your breasts and moves his hand down your curves and starts to rub harsh circles onto your clit.

“Yuta. More. Need more.” You groan and you move slightly in his grip.

“Aw, look at you. A mewling mess in my touch. Looks like you don’t hate me as much as you thought” He speaks against your skin, licking down your stomach to your hips.

He pulls the rest of your pants down, exposing yourself to him. He licks between your wet folds, using just the tip of his tongue to tease you. Before pulling away to spread your lips with his fingers, getting too close for comfort as he inspected your cunt. You tried your best to close your legs as you felt yourself heating up in embarrassment. He pushed your thigh with his free hand as the other slapped your wet core.

“Don’t do that. Wanna get a look at this pretty little pussy I’m about to shove my cock into.” He spoke low as he spit on your clit lewdly.

He watched as your walls fluttered, begging for attention; begging for him to stuff it full. But you deserved to wait- after falling ever so “accidentally” into Gojo’s arms as you were training with him earlier. So he pressed his thumb down and rubbed your pretty clit. The way he teased you, the way he touched you- you were becoming addicted to the feeling and you wanted to experience more of him. He kept his face close, hot breaths eliciting a wanton moan from your lips as he slides a finger between your lips. He pulls his thumb away for a moment to pull back the hood of your clit and places a soft kiss to it, making your knees buckle. Your hands are shaking as you move them to his shoulders in an attempt to ground yourself. Your focus is waning with every pump of his finger- and then he adds another. His fingers prod at your gummy walls, slick coating them as they slide in past his knuckles, lips puckering to suck harshly on your sensitive nerves as his pretty eyes glare up at you.

Something about the look he holds as the water drips from the tips of his hair, his wet white tee sticking to his skin, the way his fingers are curling and hitting all the right spots. Your thighs start to shake and your breath catches as your eyes roll back and you try to brace yourself as you feel your orgasm approaching. But he stops, a soft cry filters over your lips- and he laughs as he stands up.

“Open your mouth.” You knew it was a demand but you were still trying to muffle your sighs from the denial.

He rolls his eyes at your disobedience and grabs your cheeks squishing them together. He shoves his fingers past your lips, pushing down on your tongue to hear those choked whines that sounded so pretty from you. You gag slightly when his knuckles touch your lip as he spreads your juices around on your tongue. He made your mouth close as he pulled his digits out, making sure you got every drop of yourself.

“You taste yourself? So sweet- why have you been keeping this from me?” His words sounded so sinful, your head was spinning.

He peeled his clothes off, tossing them to the corner out of the way of the shower. He stepped back into the water, slicking his hair back as droplets ran down his toned form. Curving around the outlines of his pecs as the bead rolled down over his perked nipples and followed the line of his abs down to his hips. The steamy atmosphere adding to your already spinning head made you see stars. You could feel yourself shaking as your legs wanted to give out, then two strong hands gripped your shoulders. Your eyes trailed up the muscles in his arms and saw the way they flexed knowing your attention was on him. You noticed the way his lips curved up into a coy smirk.

“I’ll take good care of you” He growled in your ear as he hooked your thigh over his hip.

He kept careful eye contact with you as he lined himself up with your entrance. His flushed tip pushing against your puffy folds, covering his tip in your slick. Your back was pushed up against the wall, his thick calloused fingers digging into the plush skin of your thigh as his cockhead slipped into you. Your slick essence and sinful moans spurring him to sink further into your squelching cunt. He went in slow but didn’t give you a moment to adjust as he pulled out to the cut on his tip and then rammed back into you. A choked sob escaped your parted lips as you batted your wet lashes at him.

“Yuta!”- you cried as fresh hot tears started to spill from your big doe eyes - “Please t’ too much”

He grinned seductively as he kissed the corner of your eye, “Crying for me, baby? Look so pretty”

His eyebrows furrowed as vulgarities fell from his pink lips as he set the pace. Pulling back and snapping his hips forward into you. The sounds of your wetness are muffled by his groans and the water of the shower raining down and echoing off the tiled floor. You could feel your body melting into him with every force of his hips, gasping with every thrust. Your head lulled into the valley of his neck, teeth grasping onto his collarbones as drool spilled from your lips. He ferociously, mercilessly, pounded deep inside you. Hitting every soft spot along the way, the way the thick vein on his cock rubbed against your gummy walls, and how he kept hitting the top of your cervix- you were at his mercy. He snaked his thumb down your wet stomach to rub your clit and fat tears of pleasure pooled down your face as you cried his name.

“Fuck. Look at you, taking me so well.” His grunts become more apparent as he continues to abuse your overstimulated clit.

You feel him hitting deep, each thrust makes your cunt clamp down onto him. He’s rough as his thumb moves and his fingers dig into your leg, creating crescent shaped indents. He’s hitting so deep, bruising your cervix with every obscene movement. You can only focus on him pounding into you, your nails scratching down his back, no doubt leaving scratches but you know he doesn't mind when he moans out loud. He nudges your head up with his and attached his lips hard to yours. Puffy and red when he pulls away, drinking in your exhales as he hovers over your parted lips. His thrusts got sloppy and his balls felt heavy slapping against the curve of your ass and you know he’s just as close as you are.

Then he pulls out. Making you wince and whine at the empty feeling.

“Turn around, put your hands against the wall.” You do as he says, you’ve been denied two orgasms now.

He grabs your ass, slapping a harsh red handprint onto your right cheek as he spreads them apart. He adjusts himself to your dripping hole again and slides back in. You swear he’s going to fuck the shape of his cock into you- and nothing after him will feel right. Your walls are stretching back out to accommodate him, creating a soreness in your legs. You're whining his name and begging him to let you cum already and something inside him snaps. He grips your ass hard, using it as leverage to fuck into you. Your thighs are twitching with each roll of his hips as he continually bottoms out deep into your cunt. His focus is on watching his fat cock disappear into you over, and over again. One hand reaches around to press against your tummy and you feel him all the way in your womb and your tears are gushing as they fall to the floor in front of you.

You rest your cheek against the wall and take one hand off to reach down between your legs to grab and fondle his heavy balls. He yelps at the new sensation and moves even harder into you. You’re pulling on his soft flesh, and feel them tighten in your grasp. The circling and bucking of his hips falters and you feel the knot inside you bubble up. He’s cursing and stammering under his breath, how good your pussy feels, how wet you are from him. His filthy words send you over the edge and you're spewing your juices against him- squirting them onto the base of his cock and coating his thighs. He loves your reaction- the way your panting and your pretty cunt is clamping and twitching. You feel the final tingle of his balls in your hand and the first warmth of his cum spilling into you and you squeeze your hand that's holding him, eliciting a loud groan from him as you milk him for all his worth. He chases his high, white slick filling you to your brim as it threatens to spill once he pulls out. He bends down to be eye-level with your pussy and he notices the small bead of cum dripping down onto your clit. He’s fast with his tongue, licking a stripe from your clit to your stretched out hole as he collects his spilling seed into his mouth. He stands and turns you around, connecting his lips with yours, his hand clenching your jaw to fill your mouth with every bit of what's in his, spitting the rest as he closes his mouth on yours.

“Swallow.” And you do, because you’re fucked too dumb to mutter cohernt words. Your vision filled with stars.

He snickers at your disheveled appearance as he turns back into the cascading water. You stand there for a minute, trying to collect enough strength to walk under the heated shower as well. But you sigh as your thighs shake and you slide your back down the wall. He rolls his eyes at you and takes your hands, dragging you into the water to clean yourself off.

“So, what now?” The only words you’re able to utter as you sit on the warm ground, allowing the water to rush over your face.

Yuta scoffs at your words, as he wraps a towel around his waist, “What do you mean? We’re just friends.” He walks to the corner to pick up his clothes and turns to go, leaving you to ponder in your thoughts over what the fuck just happened

tagging: @arlertslove @bokuroskitten @kazububs @fairyfuyu @httphaitani @beware-of-the-rogue @mrskenmakozume @blueparadis @momoewn @shinigamiplayroom || @planetonet @hanayanetwork @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi

#portfolio of dreams #yuta okkotsu #yuuta okkotsu #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen yuta #jujutsu kaisen smut #tw: exhibitionism #tw: dacryphilia #planeto🪐 #hanaya network

[chad-something]

BEHOLD Fic Recs!!!! 18+

Notes: I’m reposting this because it seems to have disappeared completely from my account!! After the week we’ve all had I thought I’d accumulate some of my favs 🥹🥹 I’ll make a list for fluffy fics as well! Big love.

Side note, there is no theme, the theme is chaos fuck you Filoni

Warnings: These all contain 18+ content, minors do not interact - all posts contain individual warnings.

Expensive Tastes: by @eloquentmoon - cad bane x AFAB!reader

• Good lord. Need I say more? I want this shit tattooed on my fucking eyelids.

Rough Day: by @no-droids - mando x F!reader

• Because obviously. Is it too much to call this the Bible for fanfic readers?

Tech Savvy: by @bb-8 - Tech x F!reader

• Pure, unadulterated perfection.

Can I help with that?: by @nahoney22 - Tech x F!reader

• She needs no introduction. All of Honey’s work is PERFECTION!! I’m kicking my feet and blushing thinking about it all.

Handling: by @moodymisty - Tech x F!reader

• Again, she needs no introduction. Incredible writing AND incredible sex, what more could you ask for? I just adore all of her stuff!!

Catch and Release: by @sporadicthingcollection - Cad Bane x F!reader

• This was the first fic I ever read on ao3 after somebody sent it to me and I remember with such clarity being like … wait… this shit can be GOOD good?! I feel like I’m reading a Jane Austen novel rn except it’s pure smut and about a blue space cowboy. I seriously hang off Emberly’s every word - this fic and the whole series is AMAZING

Poise Counterpoise: by @sporadicthingcollection - Tech x F!reader

• Mmm same as above but for tech. I want to inject this into my brain?!

Quick and Dirty: by @eyecandyeoz - Tech x Reader

• Everything. All of Candy’s stuff. But in light of recent events this one has been on my mind!

Multitasking: by @neon-junkie - Tech x GN!reader

• I dare you to find a fic by neonjunkie that I won’t obsess over, this is one of my personal favs

Coriolis Effect: by @uponrightful - Crosshair x reader

• FANTASTIC Crosshair series with excellent writing, pacing, and smut by uponrightful

What Boba thinks about on the throne: by @saradika - Boba x F!reader

• I’m blushing. Every. Single. Fic. Is. Perfection. (And read kinktober 2021 NEEEOOOOOOWW)

These are just some off the top of my head to help ease the pain from the finale!! I’ll be back with more soon I’m sure - and there are so many other fluffy fics I adore that I can’t wait to shout out asap

(Boarders by @saradika)

Em x

#star wars #the bad batch #thebadbatch #clone wars #tech x reader #crosshair x oc #crosshair x reader #boba fett #cad bane #star wars bad batch #tbb x reader #tech tbb #tbb tech x reader #fanfic #fanficreccomendations #the clone wars #tech x oc #tbb crosshair #sw tbb #fic rec

[shanbinswf]

COINCIDENCE — kim younghoon [repost]

landing page. main masterlist.

pairing: coworker younghoon x afab reader

genre: mild angst, mild fluff, smut (mdni)

plot: younghoon didn’t take kindly to your claims of war both inside work, and outside. so when your boss plans a trip out for your teams, you decide to wage another war against younghoon which ended as it always did—you in his bed to stroke his bruised ego.

wc: 3200

warnings under the cut.

warnings: mild hints at dom/sub dynamics, reader is a bit bitchy sometimes, mild mentions of spanking, mild hint at choking if you squint, undetailed but definite smut, unprotected sex, mild swearing, younghoon calls reader a bitch and a brat.

TO SAY KIM YOUNGHOON WAS NOT THE BANE OF YOUR EXISTENCE WOULD BE A LIE.

The second your stats at work became better than his and all the customers gave you glowing reviews, all of a sudden his stats became doubled and he managed to win the tally once again—and sometimes even employee of the week up to three times in a row.

The cocky smirk he gave when the paper was placed on his desk alongside the box of cheap yet very delectable chocolates was worth a good slap in his face, you liked to silently claim—a threat you never followed through with, sadly.

But somehow, each time anger began to overcome you even at the littlest of his actions, you found yourself drinking one too many shots of tequila or glasses of wine, and you more often than not awoke to find yourself naked in his bed once again.

It was the second week in a row he had won employee of the week as of recent months, and it was really starting to grip your shit. You wanted to scream, rip the paper up, throw the contents of his desk across the room… But you could never be caught slipping—you had to keep your composure and act like every claim of war meant nothing to you. But inside your chest, a burning fire was raging with the need to escape, slowly consuming you.

And that fire only burned brighter and hotter when your boss revealed he was taking everyone in the office out for a summer trip, to try and decompress after the stressful week your had all faced.

“Everyone has been working really hard lately, and so I managed to talk the big bosses into letting us take a team break next weekend. We’re going to go to this cabin place with a pool, and we can have a nice BBQ…” Your team leader’s voice trailed off as you zoned out, your eyes focusing back on your computer as you rushed to complete typing out the very long and important email to one of your customers.

You sat at your desk, which was opposite to Younghoon’s. You leant up on your chair once you finished your email’s first draft, eyeing your boss (who stood behind Younghoon) with narrowed eyes. You were suspicious as your workplace had busier weeks before and they never cared about the workplace moral or never once offered your team a break to decompress.

But you soon shrugged the suspicions away. You decided to just go with the flow. What was the use in worrying over something that was meant to stop you from… well, worrying. You were going away for a weekend to a cabin with a pool and you got to eat a BBQ and probably drink to your hearts content—free of charge. What was there to consider? You would be stupid to give up the offer. Even if it meant you had to spend a whole weekend without touching Younghoon.

Your fingers itched at the idea, your body begging to touch him, and to feel his touch in response. But you pushed the feeling aside. You had to focus on the task at hand—emails.

Younghoon’s eyes naturally gravitated to your as your face popped up over his computer screen. He stared at you for some seconds, a tense yet awkward feeling forming in his chest. He too craved to feel your touch, but he knew he couldn’t risk doing so in work and pissing you off. While he had all the power in bed, you had the most power over him and your… relationship—and he knew you could cut things off at any given time.

He decided to stop his staring trance when you finally sat back down in your seat, your face now hidden behind his computer but he could still see parts of you. The slightest of sights he hd of you always made his day—made him feel serene in some kind of twisted way. He was, by all accounts, an addicted man—addicted to you.

He finally chose then as the perfect time to speak up in your direction, not too loud, but loud enough for you to catch, “Your hair looks nice today.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised he had even noticed you had ever so slightly changed it. Your hair was always getting in the way, so you had decided to style it in a way it would restrict you less. You couldn’t help but smile, but you didn’t respond to his compliment verbally, knowing he couldn’t see your face from behind the computer.

Younghoon sighed at your lack of reply, silently promising himself he was going to have to make sure to fuck some manners into you during your next night time escapades.

THERE WAS NOTHING YOU HATED MORE THAN BEING CRAMMED ONTO A BUSY.

Well, maybe there was one other thing you hated more—you hated being crammed on a bus with tons of people with no a/c, and to top it all off, you were forced to sit beside Younghoon who trapped you in and wouldn’t allow you to move seats.

You had a large gym/day bag and found it hard to push it up to it’s new home in the storage space above the seats you had claimed, so when you held a familiar body behind you and gentle hands which grabbed the bag from you to easily lift it in the space with next to no effort, you knew exactly who it was that was behind you.

You didn’t bother to turn around or even wish him a thank you. You climbed in and sat on the inner seat with your smaller bag on your lap. You pulled out a bottle of water and your earphones, only to feel warmth beside you as the devil himself sat beside you. You turned your head to look at him, your eyes narrowed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You asked with a scoff, to which Younghoon rolled his eyes.

“Sitting on a seat, what does it look like I’m doing?” He replied just as sassy as you had, and the tone made your narrow your eyes even more at him. But you bit back any sarcastic remarks as you plugged your ears with your earphones. You knew if you asked, he would refuse to move seats anyway—so you settled for giving in and focusing on your music as you watched the view pass by through the bus window.

The bus quickly became sticky with heat once everyone had taken their seats and the drive had begun, and you were thankful for the minor fact that you chose to sit by a window which allowed you to open it—even if it was just a slither.

You leant forward to try to get as close to the cracked open window as possible, then you attempted to gasp the outside air, then you sat back. The air rushing through the window wasn’t going to make much of a change in your temperature or ease the growing tensions between yourself and Younghoon, but at least it was something. And something was better than nothing.

“You’re so annoying,” You muttered as you grabbed Younghoon’s knee and forced it to still. He had been tapping his leg for the last good hour, and you were sure you wouldn’t be able to tolerate it for another half hour. Sure, you had survived most of the drive, but you were close to your breaking point. It didn’t help each time his thigh brushed against your bare leg, you felt the sudden buzz under your skin, your bodys way of begging to touch him.

You cursed your body internally when you felt the familiar warmth running from your fingertips through your veins to your head in a messy fuzz of thoughts. Younghoon was slowly becoming your everything—like you were addicted to him. But you forced the intrusive thoughts down and settled for glaring at him in an attempt to hide your true feelings.

Younghoon surprisingly listened to you and stilled his leg, his hand gently pushing yours from his skin. His fingers held onto yours for a little too long, lingering long enough to cause the familiar flutter in your chest. You snatched your hand away, and everyone on the buss assumed you hated the man you were paired up with.

Little did they know.

YOU RAN OFF TRHE BUS FIRST BEFORE ANYONE ELSE, AND AS YOUR FEET LANDED ON SOLID GROUND, YOU DRAMATICALLY DOUBLED OVER TO HOLD ONTO YOUR KNEES AS YOU GASPED THE FRESH AIR IN.

Sure, it was sunny and still very much warm outside, but there was endless space and so your air wasn’t tainted with the smell of sweat or food. The air was cleaner and fresher than the suffocating air of the bus.

Younghoon took his time to climb off the bus with your other coworkers. He looked at you with a raised eyebrow, and a scoff, “Dramatic.” He huffed at you, then he walked after your boss who was leading everyone under a canopy to protect everyone from the sun in hopes of getting a chance to cool down.

You noticed that you were in a pretty secluded area. There was a circular pool which was quite large, but not too much. Then there were wooden cabins which looked newly built lining the pool some meters away, with plenty of space between them to ensure privacy for the patrons of the cabins. You smiled to yourself as you managed to catch your breath.

Your work trip may not be as bad as you first thought.

You finally decided to join your coworkers under the shade, and ensured you stood the opposite side of the group away from Younghoon. You wanted him, every part of your body begged for his touch and attention, but you couldn’t give in. You had to remain strong. You could sit him down and talk about your feelings when you got back home—a workplace trip was not the best place for sentimental relationship talk.

You managed to worm some space so you could sit on the bench with a few of your other coworkers, and while you had spent the drive down sitting you felt if you stood in the sweltering heat despite the shade, you were only going to hasten the sweat fest that you knew was about to overcome you sometime that day.

You used your hand in an attempt to fan yourself—to feel some sort of cool breeze. Of course, it did next to nothing. As if like a personal guardian angel, always knowing what you wanted or needed, you blinked and as your eyes opened once again, a small handheld fan was thrust into your direction.

You looked up with surprised eyes and parter lips to find Younghoon was behind the gift. You smiled and gently took it from him, your skin igniting once again as your fingertips brushed over his hand. You wanted to throw your arms around him, pull him close and never leave his side—just as much as you wish to throttle him when he gives you that cocky smirk at work, the ‘I won against you again’ smirk.

Younghoon pulled away from you all too soon, turning his back to speak to one of the elder team members. He was lost in the conversation, really giving the other person his full attention. Your elbow came to rest on your knee, then you placed your jaw in your hand. Your head tilted to the side as you watched every move of his lips, every crinkle of his eyes.

“You like him,” A voice interrupted your staring session. You wanted to get mad at the person firstly, but then you realised you were still at a work event and so you had to keep your composure no matter who you were talking to—even if it was one of your closets work friends.

“Chanhee, you know I like you’re great and all, but please stop analysing my every move and determining I am in love with someone when I am not,” You tried to defend yourself, but Chanhee knew about one too many of your late night adventures with Younghoon and so your attempts were falling on deaf ears.

“First of all, I never said you was in love with him, I just said you like him,” A smirk decorated his delicate yet obnoxious-at-the-time features. He had won the argument before you even had a chance to try. “Care to tell me why you’re ogling him so much?”

“No reason,” You tried to defend yourself once again, but your attempts fell futile. You had lost the fight—and you had lost your heart to Kim Younghoon.

“SO, WE NEED TO PICK OUR CABINS…”

Your team leader began, to which you knew he was about to say something you would undoubtedly hate. “But we need to make it fair. Why don’t you guys get changed into your swimsuits in the toilets, and then come back out here. When we all come back here, I’ll tell you what we’re going to do to try to make picking our cabins fair for everyone.”

While you were anxious about what you were tasked to do just later, you did as your boss advised. You went to the toilets with your bag and dug through the back until you found your favourite swim wear. You changed, then exited the toilets first.

You placed your bag back on the floor, intentionally beside Younghoon’s While you couldn’t claim he was your man in the open, you could at least make subtle hints to him until you guys got back home where you would have all the time in the world to talk.

Everyone got back to the ‘base’ after some time, and your team leader claimed an ‘arm fight’ was the best way to decide who would be able to choose the rooms. The women were tasked to fight first, which ended in you winning. Your bicep was killing you at the end of it, but you felt smug you had won something.

You were told by your team leader to go pick your cabin first, so you took the one on the far left edge which seemed to have the most space. The men were fighting one another as you entered your home for the weekend.

There were two bedrooms in the cabin, so you assessed them and decided not to be so nice as you chose the bedroom with the ensuite bathroom. You placed your bag down on the edge of the bed, but you were startled from emptying it as you heard the front door open.

You rushed out of the room to the main area of the cabin as the door clicked shut softly only to find Younghoon. His own eyes went wide, but he laughed. “Oh, sorry. I had no clue you chose this cabin… Should I go choose a different one?”

You rolled your eyes and leant against the wall beside you. “Why do you act like I’m going to kick you out. You can stay here too, it’s not like we’re going to kill each other.”

Younghoon dropped his cab on the couch and smirked as he made his way to you. He stopped a meter or so away from you, looking down at you. “Speak for yourself, but I plan to fuck you so good tonight that everyone will think you’re being murdered.”

You scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “I’d like to see you fucking try.”

YOU HAD GOTTEN YOURSELF IN DEEP WATER WHEN YOU TRIED TO TEST YOUNGHOON’S PATIENCE.

You spend the night cozying up to Chanhee a little too much just to rile Younghoon up. You wanted his undivided attention all night long. You wanted to feel his fingers dig into your thighs, or his hips bruise against yours roughly. You craved his smile, his voice, his everything.

You should have known he wasn’t going to go easy on you, even as you bit a pillow to try to hide your screams to the bets of your ability. Your head was pushed down into the sheets, your hair stuck to your skin due to your sweat. His hips piston into yours faster, hard, only causing your throat to burn as you screamed out more.

Your hands gripped the pillow tight to your chest, while your eyes stung with unfilled tears.

You felt his hand harshly strike your ass. “That’s for being such a bitch to me all day. Someone needs to teach you some fucking manners,” You turned your head to the side, trying your best to look at him but your attempts were fruitless.

“Maybe you should fucking teach me better then,” Your spat, but he knew it was all talk. His hands spanked your other ass cheek, but not as harsh. Then you felt his hand slowly and gently run up your back.

His hand snaked around your body, and he had to bite back his groans or else if he got too lost in the feeling of you wrapping so tightly around him, he may just cum embarrassingly fast.

His hand gripped your neck, then he pulled you up so your back was flush against his chest. The new angle caused you to cry out loud, Younghoon smirking as he hurried his face in your shoulder. “My baby feel good?”

You nod your head, crying out babbles of agreement. Your words were unintelligible, but it was good enough for him. His lips littered soft kisses against your neck and shoulder, a contrast to the harshness of his hips. And sure enough, just as he predicted, he was unraveling way too fast for his liking.

His hand came to rub your clit to push you that final step over the edge, the feeling of your walls tightening even more only helping to milk him. Your moans became gasping breaths, and your head lolled back against his shoulder. His other hand came to rub your thighs gently, suspecting you were worn out after such a long day.

“My pretty baby did so well for me, but you still haven’t said sorry for being such a brat to me today,” Younghoon whispered before pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your head.

“‘M sorry, I love you,” Your voice sounded drunk, and Younghoon couldn’t help but still. You felt him become stiff behind you and let out a frustrated sigh. He was still inside you, so it wasn’t like he could run away so easy, but you also didn’t intend to let your feelings loose so suddenly.

“That was not how I fucking planned on telling you,” You muttered, angry at yourself. You let out another sigh, but then your breath caught in your throat as Younghoon’s hand wrapped around your neck. He turned your head for better access, then he pressed his lips against yours firmly.

He didn’t need to say it back. You could feel it. He loved you too.

#the boyz #the boyz smut #the boyz scenarios #younghoon #the boyz younghoon #the boyz kim younghoon #kim younghoon #the boyz younghoon smut #younghoon smut #younghoon scenarios

[tatorthots]

— a jealous encounter

Featured: wanderer x afab!reader x Childe (implied)

cw: suggestive themes, jealousy, cursing, (slight) hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, (slight) possessiveness

Synopsis: Jealousy is nothing more than a pathetic human emotion. It’s truly almost humorous how insecure and weak-minded mortals are, getting riled up simply because the object of their affection gets a little attention. Of course, the former sixth harbinger is far above such trivial emotions (he’s not)

a/n: scara being jealous, soft, and sulky because I said so and also I used sm names for scara because I didn’t know what name to use and I panicked btw have you guys been playing the windtrace event?? I literally can’t stop playing it help

art credit: @Liann1009 on twt

The swaying of forest leaves reflected off the clear spring waters of the still river you had come to rest by. The sun was still high above the fluffy clouds and its warmth gently kissed the skin of every living being and creature under it. It was truly a beautiful day in the outskirts of Sumeru City. And along with the chirping of birds, the sound of your laughter resonated through the forest breeze like a soft melody — absolutely enchanting, he thought, if it wasn’t caused by that damned insolent insect.

Archons, could the man not get a break? Is this finally the ‘divine punishment’ mortals so often preach about? Glaring sharp eyes quietly trailed the tall, orange-headed idiot as he fumbled around you like some love-sick child, far too comfortable with you for the latter's liking. Feelings of disdain soon turned to seething anger. Despite all my efforts, slender fingers dug into the grass underneath him, he still manages to ruin what little I have. Had he not gone through grueling enough changes? Did sacrificing absolutely everything to start anew mean so little? He gave up his past titles, erased his previous relationships, and severed every last thread that connected him to his past self — aside from you — and yet, here stood the bane of his existence during his time as a Fatui Harbinger. And to make things worse, you’re actually friends with him.

Childe, he sneered.

“Ajax, how could you get so excited over anemo slimes?” You giggled as your eyes fluttered into crescents and you bashfully hit the freckled man next to you. You couldn’t help but tease your longtime friend for getting so excited over a few anemo slimes floating around a tree. Though you’d admit, the straight edge determination reflecting from his ocean eyes as he stood straight and strung his bow back to aim made your stomach swirl slightly. You noticed the way his fingertips elegantly let go of the string and effortlessly sliced through the anemo slime mid-air, despite being positioned below and meters away from the distant cliff side tree the anemo slimes were hovering around. It’s amazing, you thought. But what earned him your admiration was the simple fact that he wasn’t trying. Childe didn’t need to. Even when he’s doing something in lighthearted fun, so long as it involves weapons, he’ll breeze through any obstacle or ‘challenge’ with ease. That’s what made Childe, Tartaglia.

However, there was someone who didn’t share that sentiment.

Honestly, Scaramouche doesn’t even know how he ended up in this archon-forsaken situation. The day had begun like any other day, with your limbs intertwined with Scaramouche as he gently stroked your hair and counted the seconds in between as your chest slowly rose and fell — an action he vehemently denies that he does because he longs for your touch; not to mention that it just so happens that the feel of your body against his calms the occasional insecurities and self-deprecating voices whispering in his head. Scaramouche lightly shook his head in flustered contempt when he caught himself softly smiling and gqze slightly softening at the memory of your skin against his, useless thoughts aren’t going to aid me in figuring out how or why I’m stuck here. internally groaning he thought of when you woke up today. you had found him already awake and tidying up the room you had both stayed in the previous night. As you sat up rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you watched Scaramouches quick and precise movements as he prepared your traveling satchel. Funny, you thought, he does all this and I never hear a thing. As much of a light sleeper as you might be, no matter how many chores he’s completed before you wake, you never hear a sound stir you from your slumber. Of course, when you finally got out of bed you found yourself presented with a small plate of assorted fresh fruit waiting for you on the kitchen table, a sight you see every morning. However, you’ve long learned better than to outright thank him for breakfast, or any small acts of service. Not because you don’t appreciate his quiet considerations, but because you learned that Scaramouche will act like a total brat if you confront him about his kindness. Insults range from calling you a moron to being labeled delusional, so you’ve figured it’s best to enjoy these little things and thank him in that way. Lastly, Scara thought about the events that happened after breakfast when it was time to set off yet again. Ah, that’s right…, he begrudgingly remembered. it was as soon as you left the inn that you happened to bump into a tall figure. An apology left your lips quickly before you hurriedly scrambled to catch up to Scaramouches' fading figure until a hand cautiously grabbed your wrist.

“Y/n?” The stranger spoke. At the sound of your name, you quickly whipped your head around to see a messy head of orange locks and a familiar lopsided smile being directed at you. “Ajax?” “So it is you—!!” Sculpted arms immediately wrapped around your frame and lifted you into their embrace. “It’s been too long!”, the voice beamed, and your momentary confusion soon turned into joy as you wrapped your arms around his neck and softly giggled. “What are you doing here? I thought you were on a mission in Inazuma?” You questioned as he set you down with his hands still latched onto your hips, “Well I was mostly there for personal affairs, and I just arrived in sumeru a few weeks ago on assignment,” his voice softened as his head slightly tilted to the side, “I’ve been missing you.” Raising your hand to cup his cheek, you brushed your thumb across the freckles adorning the mighty 11ths features, “I’ve missed you too, Ajax.” Then as if a light bulb had just lit up in his head Childe clasped his hand over yours, “Are you free today? Why don’t you go sightseeing with me? My treat!” “Ah, well I’m actually traveli—“ but before you could finish your sentence you felt cold fingertips clasp around your forearm and roughly snatch it away from the gingers hold, “She’s traveling with me,” indigo irises narrowed menacingly on Childe, and the pure aura exuding from the raven-haired man was comparably hostel to the icy and dreadful snowstorms of Snezhnaya. Scaramouche forced himself between you and Childe, standing protectively in front of you as the latter glared down at him with a smile still plastered across his lips, “Comrade. Who’s this?” Childe inquired, “Oh! This is m—“ you tried answering but Scaramouche cut you off once more with an exaggerated scoff, “The question is who are you?” Crossing his arms and holding his head ever so arrogantly he continued, “Tch. Don't you have any common decency? Or are you just too impertinent to practice basic respect?” A short, dry laugh left Childes lips, “I see.” Crossing his arm and raising a hand up to lightly tap his fingertips on his jaw, Childe feigned ignorance, “Y/n never minded my touches,” with a taunting smile and desolate eyes, he chuckled, “in fact, I’m all too familiar with where she prefers to be touched.” And with that Scaramouches patience snapped, “You dare to—“ sensing the oncoming altercation you quickly grabbed a hold of Scaras hand and guided him behind you, “You’re both very important to me,” you began, “and if I matter to either of you then you’d respect those who matter to me,” glancing between the two men you sharpened your tone, “I’d like you both to get along.”

That was the last thing Scaramouche recalled before he found himself third wheeling the rest of the day. With each moment seemingly getting worse and worse. What an infantile reason to get excited about. They’re practically oversized balloons, his attention darted in Childes direction and his usual scowl was now replaced with a daggering glower, Evidently, this damn worthless scum is filled with much more hot air than any damn anemo slime in the sky.

Scaramouche wasn’t ignorant, it was clear to him since that nuisance came around that his former Harbinger ‘comrade’ had deeper feelings for you than he let on. After all, despite his distaste for the man Scara had spent adequate enough time with Childe to learn a few aspects about him; firstly, Childe can be described by humans as having an extroverted, ‘charming’ persona, and he has no trouble making friends wherever he goes, however, he never lets anyone touch him — it’s a subtle habit and not one easily picked up on; a far cry to the current situation in which Scaramouche has had to swat his hand away from you for the fourth time in a minute. Secondly, despite the hours upon hours the idiot could spend rambling about fishing or spar training, he never actually shares any personal information about himself, and yet, he’d gone as far as surrendering his real name to you. Not to mention he had no problem speaking to you about how much his siblings would ‘love’ you, of course, they’d love her, he scoffed, who doesn’t fall for her? Lastly, and most notably, Childe has no glimmer of life in his eyes. To be honest, if Scaramouche had to think, the only other time the 11th showed even a hint of a glint he would say it would be when Childes tearing his enemies limb from limb — an idea Scara is finding more and more appealing. So then, he thought, I guess I’ll just have to stomp on that little light of his. Tapping his foot impatiently on the ground an ominous shadow gloomed over his face as he lost himself in his thoughts, she’s mine. mine. mine. It had been long since Scaramouche had realized his feelings for you, and he had made it very clear to you that he had no intention of sharing you with others. No, Scaramouche no longer wanted just your friendship, he wanted you.

“Shall I go buy some snacks from a food stall nearby before dinner, comrade?” Standing from his spot next to you, Childe towered over you with his body leaning down to loom mere inches from your slightly warmed face, “I did say I’d treat you today..” half-lidded eyes traced your movements as he brought a gloved hand to cascade across your cheekbone, “didn’t I?” His voice was low and his smile smug; Childe knew full well what he was doing in front of Scaramouche, and he basked in it, though it’s not as if these actions were all too new either. “A-ah.. I- um,” stuttering over her words, huh?, Childe mused, how cute. However, the mere sight of this atrocious act almost made Scaramouche use his anemo vision to slice that wretched excuse of a warrior in half. With a soft smile, you leaned into Childes hand, making the man’s eyes widen in slight surprise as a light dust of pink spread over his face, “That’d be great Ajax, thank you.”

Internally groaning, Scaramouche rested his arms on his knees and hid his head behind his arms as his pretty lilac eyes stayed focused on you, there’s her smile again…, his brows faintly knitted together when he felt his chest start to ache, always caused by something else. He couldn’t help but wonder whether you were truly happy wandering through the lands of Teyvat with him.

“Then I’ll make it quick!” With a goofy smile and a wink, Childe went off into the city walls. Leaving you and Scaramouche resting alone with nothing more than the sound of the river flowing and the city chatter lightly busting in the background. Closing his eyes, Scaramouches brows quirked in annoyance, that self-serving imbecile didn’t even bother to pretend he even remembered me. The feeling in his chest was all too familiar to the electro Archons puppet. Clutching where his heart should be he couldn’t understand why this feeling wouldn’t go away. He couldn’t understand why he hadn’t learned his lesson despite starting anew. Maybe I was meant to live this way… he thought. Feeling a small tap on his shoulder, Scara whipped his head up to see you sitting right next to him, your body lulled to the side and brushing against him as you tilted your head down to get a better look at his sulking face. For a second he was stunned by the suddenness of your closeness, but then he was held captive by your feathery lashes and beaming smile; a warm smile finally directed at him. How quickly his chest went from hurting to blooming with warmth was almost pathetic. Even if you were the reason why he was drowning in misery, even if his pain had been caused by your ignorance, you were still the reason why he felt joy. It’s always because of you…, without realizing his hand had already reached to gently tuck the loose strands of hair blowing across your face, and just as quickly as he realized he retracted his hand in a huff of frustration and embarrassment.

Humming in acknowledgment, you stared off into the grassy mountains of sumeru, “You’ve been awfully quiet today,” your voice was soft and tranquil, “how uncharacteristic of you, no?” Glancing to the side you smiled when you saw him lightly scoff under his breath as he turned his head away from your direction.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re rambling on about.” He grumbled.

“Shall I elaborate?”

“I’d rather you not.” Piercing irises threateningly glared in your direction.

“You’ve been ill-tempered,” you began, and Scaramouche rolled his eyes, “hmm which isn’t all too out of the ordinary, but you’ve definitely been lashing out at every little thing.” With a knowing glint, you glanced at your longtime companion, “Not to mention your aggression with Ajax.” And at that Scaramouche grimaced at the way you spoke his actual name, “You force yourself between Ajax and I whenever he gets close, you demean every single thing he says, you smack his hand away when he reaches out to me — even if it’s just to hand me something, and you taunt and mock him every chance you get,” pausing for a second you let out a heavy exhale before softening your gaze, unsure of whether what you say next is the right thing. “Kuni… all of that isn’t what worries me,” at that you felt his entire body stiffen, seemingly holding his breath as if every ticking second was more important than the last, “I noticed the nail marks you have on your palms from all the time you’ve spent clenching your fists, and I see the conflict that’s been raging behind your eyes since this journey with the three of us began,” balling your owns fists on the fabric of your clothes you let out your final observation, “As small as the changes are, or as hard as you try to hide it, kunikuzushi, I see you. I’ve memorized every expression, studied every curve and line that forms on your features and what they mean… I know you fear that I’ll abandon you,” you purse your lips at the thought, “So how dare you. How dare you ever think I would abandon my other half.”

The absolute, incredulous stare Scaramouche gave you almost made you choke out a muffled laugh. Catching the anemo holder off guard and speechless was a prize all too rare to witness. Yet, what caught your attention wasn’t that you’ve managed to leave him stunned and tight-lipped but instead the unfamiliar red that spread from his cheeks to his ears. There was a quiet gasp from your lips as you admired how beautifully his pale complexion was set off by the searing color. Instantly, your ears perk up as he speaks.

“I.. you don’t…” he began, but immediately he stopped himself. Then, a moment passed. And then a minute. The tension between you two seemed to pile up in pressure, and you now found yourself holding your breath and feeling your heart start to quicken as you stared at him. Awaiting what was to come next. With a defeated look and an airy sigh, he finally turned his full head toward you. “You really are foolish y/n,” his voice was strained, and his eyes peered into yours with such a soft intensity, “hah, really.. you couldn’t be more incompetent, could you?” Swallowing the lump in your throat, your glistening doe eyes simply gawked at him almost owl-like, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at your dumbfounded face. Then that’s when he smiled. A true, genuine, adoring smile, “Haven’t you realized that I’m in lo-“

“I’m back—!”

Childe’s voice ripped through the tension and practically grated Scaramouches ears while you jumped, startled at the sudden noise. Snapping your head to Childe, you saw him holding a small bag with the label titled Puspa Café. “I hope you don’t mind what I got us!” Reaching his hand into the bag he pulled out a crispy, sweet-smelling Candied Ajilenakh Nut dessert, “When I was walking through the different vendors, I was quite surprised to have found a dish that looked so similar to one of the desserts my motherland of Snezhnaya has!” Childe puffed his chest and extended the sugary sweet to you, “Though I’m confident the one from home tastes much better than this, I’m happy to share something similar with you,” softening his azure gaze as you took the dessert from him he continued with a gentler tone, “but I hope to one day treat you to one back home.” Blinking once, then blinking twice, you quickly glanced over at Scaramouche now positioned with his knee up and resting his arm on his knee to hide his face once more, I wonder what would’ve happened…, you pondered, but you knew better than to prod the conversation given the current situation. I suppose it’d be best to ask again later, turning your attention back to Childe you offered a thankful smile, “I’m sure one day we can visit if Kuni agrees to go.” At that, both men froze for a second. We..?, now it was Scaramouches turn to stare owlishly at the dancing grass brushing against his fingers, and without noticing he felt his entire body relax as he let out a quiet, small sigh of relief. Whereas Childe clenched his jaw in annoyance while still forcing an easy-going facade, I need to get rid of him, “Sounds like a plan comrade!” Was all he could muster through slightly clasped teeth as he sat down next to you. Humming to himself in deep thought, Childe wondered what to do about that asshole little leech that stayed glued to you.

All of you sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes — well, two were lost in their own thoughts either processing or scheming, whereas you simply sat between the two men enjoying time together as you feast on your sweet treat. "Ah. Comrade, you seem to have a few crumbs," "Hm?" Moving your hand up to brush away the stray pieces, Childe gently stopped you, "Allow me." He softly spoke as he leaned in close and carefully swiped away the crumbs; his hand then cascaded across your plush skin and caressed the curve of your jaw. Gazing into his eyes and cheeky smile, you found yourself at a loss, feeling both embarrassed and shy from the gesture.

Scaramouche, however, was not at all pleased. This little game of Childes has gone on far too long and writhing in self-loathing had been nothing but a waste of time. You were his. You’ll always be his, and there wasn’t a human, harbinger, adeptus, or archon in this damned world that could ever change that. So, with swift movements, he laced an arm around your waist and pulled you on top of his lap and into his possessive embrace. The sudden movement had stunned both you and Childe and you had no time to react as your eyes glanced up at the smug smirk spreading across Scaramouches lips. His eyes were low and scowling intently at Childe, while the Harbingers smiling face quickly fell, replaced by a much colder and sinister glower. “All this time and not once did you offer me one of those burnt little treats,” Scaras voice was low and mocking, and you could feel the icy touch of his slender fingertip tracing down the side of your face to the base of your chin to guide your full attention towards him, “guess that just means I have to take one myself, won’t I?” And in a quick moment, his lips came crashing down on yours. His kiss was rough but cautious, and you could feel the longing and desperation emitting atop his soft lips. At first, your eyes blew wide open in shock, but then, no matter how hard you tried to focus on what was going going on or move your body to react, all you could fixate on was one little detail, his lips taste.. like a Zaytun peach.

Parting his lips from yours, his eyes quickly scanned your face for any hint of disgust, any reaction, anything. You could clearly see the worry pooling in his irises, but before regret could creep up on him your eyes turned into crescent moons, and a pretty pink blush flushed your cheeks as you smiled dotingly at him. He was taken aback. At first, he was shocked, then confused, he even felt a little angry, but mostly he felt love. Turning his attention from you to the glaring daggers and clenched fists Childe had, Scara smiled in triumph and narrowed his eyes in slight. “You’re right, Harbinger,” bringing his thumb up to glide across his lips he licked them, “this treat isn’t bad, hah, not bad at all.”

side note: happy new year everyone!! and happy birthday to my first, and most cherished, Zhongli ᥫ᭡

Reblogs and Interactions Are Appreciated!! ღ

#jay writes ! ⋆⁺₊⋆ ♡̷̷̷ ⋆⁺₊⋆ #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #wanderer x reader #Scaramouche x reader #Childe x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #childe x you #scaramouche x you #kunikuzushi #genshin fluff #genshin x you #wanderer x you #hurt/comfort #Genshin impact x you #genshin fanfic #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin wanderer #genshin scaramouche #genshin childe #genshin comfort

[writters-clock]

Can we get some Hollow Knight x reader headcannons? 👉👈

Preferably with a they/them AFAB reader, maybe about them re-uniting with hollow after they've managed to outlive the infection?

Thank u!

-🧡🪲

HK x Reader headcanons!!

Warnings : none?? I think?? Do spoilers for hollow knight still exsist??

Request : "Can we get some Hollow Knight x reader headcanons? Preferably with a they/them AFAB reader, maybe about them re-uniting with hollow after they've managed to outlive the infection?"

Notes : mmm bugs, the bane of my exsistance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✰> That poor thing. Probably tired as hell.

✰> Bud reunited with you and seems so sleepy (I mean they had a whole god throwing a tantrum in their body for fuck knows how long.)

✰> They, nontheless are surprised your still alive!

✰> they gonna give you a big ol' hug and not let go for like five minutes.

✰> and then immediatly after affectionately headbutt you like a cat.

✰> Let them take a nap with you, cuddle up with them while they hold you.

✰> What do you do with this info? Make them good soup. Preferably not orange soup.

✰> Also their posture is ABSOLUTELY FUCKED after being hung up like a christmas light for so long everytime the move its just creaky cracky noises.

✰> They lay around a lot more. Sometimes even forget what they were doing a lot easier.

✰> They will need time to heal, Hollow can't help it.

✰> The more and more you are willing to help them with, the more and more they appreciate you.

✰> You have to help bandage them up depending on how long it's been since the whole 'Mmm Little Ghost gonna fight god' thing happened.

✰> They are very patient with you still, just like before, very calm too.

✰> If you need something, they still try their best to get it.

✰> They care so much for you and wish to be able to show you that through gifts.

✰> However what they cannot gain, they give through nightly cuddles.

✰> Turns out, they feel colder than before. Like warm food slowly cooling off.

✰> Maybe thats a good thing? Or maybe they just need a blanket.

✰> However with the process of their healing, time is the best thing you two have got.

#hollow knight #HK #hk pure vessel #hk x reader #fanfic #headcanons #hollow knight pure vessel #pure vessel #THK #silksong #x reader #anon #anon request #anonymous #writers-clock #hollow knight silksong #hk silksong #pure vessel hollow knight #the hollow knight #hollow knight x reader