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jiminiecrickets · 7 months

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jeon jungkook ♡ series masterlist

wc. 2k

tags. smut | dom top!m!reader, in an alleyway, exhibitionism + getting caught, jealousy, rough sex, biting, crying

thursdays at a nightclub – most would expect a half-alive sort of creature, mostly empty and a little dull. but the nights never sleep and neither do its people, and the building is warm with electric bodies and the sweet, heady scent of spilt alcohol.

jungkook squeezes out of the crowd on the dance floor, releasing a lungful of thick air as he meanders towards the bar. he'd lost you a few minutes ago, and nothing was as fun as grinding on his boyfriend in a dark room full of strangers. he takes a seat and orders a drink.

not a second later, a presence slides up behind him. "what's a looker like you doin' all alone?"

his welcoming smile vanishes. that's not you. he glances over his shoulder at the young man, who looks so generically attractive that jungkook feels as if he's an instagram filter become reality.

he turns away, disinterested. he scans the crowds. "i'm not alone. here with my boyfriend."

"really? where?"

there's a grating smugness to his words. he's probably never had anyone say no to him before. "we got separated. this place is pretty big."

the guy hums, leaning against the bar next to jungkook. "that's true. he probably won't find you for ten minutes, maybe more. not thinking of spending all that time sittin' alone at the bar with just a whiskey to warm you, are you?"

"i am, actually."

"well, maybe i could interest you in something else," he suggests, "to pass the time."

jungkook lifts the glass to his lips, throwing it back. he hisses at the pleasant burn. "yeah, no. i'd rather watch paint dry."

"oh, i'm not that bad," he jests. his fingers slide over jungkook's bicep, gorgeously accentuated by the neckline of his black racerback tank. it's fitted and cropped – he did it himself – and shows off his tight stomach and defined apollo's belt. "you wouldn't even have to look at me, y'know. those hands of yours would make a nice necklace, don't you think?"

he glances down at his many silver rings and bracelets. "oh. oh. uh, i don't think you're reading me right. um, i don't swing that way."

the man's brows furrow. "what? you said you had a boyfriend."

"i do." jungkook clears his throat, carefully sliding off of the barstool. the other man's eyes follow him up; jungkook has a few inches over him. "i, uh..."

"there you are, baby. thought i'd never see your face again."

jungkook positively lights up at the sound of your voice, smooth and pleasant. it's the kind of voice that cuts through boardroom chatter like a hot knife through butter, carrying with it a natural, easy assertiveness that ceos wish they had.

"hyung," he coos, giggling as you drape an arm over his shoulder and tangle that hand in his long, messy curls, tugging slightly to press your lips to his cheek. he lets you move him around like a doll, grinning up at you adoringly. "hi."

"hi," you reply, amused. your eyes flicker over to the other man, whose face is slowly turning red. your eyes narrow slightly. "sorry, i don't think we've met. i'll be stealing him for a minute."

you're usually so polite – but this time, you didn't even add an 'if you don't mind' to that second sentence. jungkook nibbles on his lower lip. are you angry? are you angry at him?

"hyung?" he asks when you lead him outside into the alley, the cool breeze soothing his hot skin. "what's up?"

you turn on him. his eyes widen. "he was flirting with you, wasn't he?"

"what?" he fumbles. "w-well, i mean, yeah, but you know i wasn't gonna do anything if that's what you're worried about—"

"i don't care about that." something in the back of jungkook's mind swoons at the knowledge that you're so secure in his affections for you that it doesn't bother you in the slightest. you lean in, pressing a hand against the rough brick wall and pinning him in. his heart begins to race. "i care that he thought you were available. all this skin you're showing and not a single mark defining you as mine?" a slight growl marks that last word. jungkook gasps softly. "we'll have to fix that."

"now?" jungkook stammers, glancing around. the alley's dark, and the streets on either side are mostly quiet. a few haggard-looking youths stumble by every so often. "but what if someone sees? my dignity, hyung, you're gonna rip it to shreds."

"i'm 'gonna'?" you lift a brow, eyes glittering. "you sound as if you want this."

he swallows. "i – i do, i always do, but i don't want anyone getting an eyeful of my ass..." he hooks his fingers through your belt loops. "that's just for you, hyung-ah."

you hum, leaning in. you press your lips against his and he moans softly, tugging your hips flush against his. "that's right, baby. you're just for me. all this..." you squeeze his ass roughly over his black cargo pants and he whimpers out a moan, arching his spine into your touch. "all mine. why?"

"'cause you fuck me the best," he gasps, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as your hot kisses travel down his jaw and collar. his cock stirs. "you fuck me so well, baby. i could never want anyone else when i have you. i belong to you – hey!"

you yank his teasingly tight pants down over his thighs, pinning him in place easily with your own body. he's already half-hard – has been for the last hour in the club – and you hum appreciatively, gently turning him over. he obliges, arching his spine as he gazes watchfully over his shoulder, pink lips parted and palms pressed against the wall.

your hand runs over the tight silver-ringed harness that cradles his chest and shoulders and emphasises his tiny little waist. you nearly growl at the sight, nails digging into his skin.

he presses his ass into the front of your pants, round eyes sparkling with anticipation. "you're being so rough," he breathes as you nip at his neck just below his ear, tugging the fitted neck of his top down to reveal more of him. "did that really touch something tender? ah!"

he jerks as your teeth clip his soft skin, indenting the shape of your teeth as a red bruise. his heartbeat thuds faster as your palms glide over the mounds of his chest, perfectly sculpted by his tight shirt and harness, and dance over his cock to stroke his sensitive inner thighs. they tense under your touch.

he's wearing a pair of tiny black jocks with a rainbow elastic that cups his ass. you stifle a laugh, trying not to break character.

"what?" he mumbles, blushing. "shut the fuck up. they're cute."

"oh, i agree." you give them a light smack and he moans sharply at the impact. "wonder what that guy would think if he saw you in these – if he saw how pretty you are, spreading your legs for me..." one hand strokes his taut stomach, passing below his hips to cup the cute bubble in his jocks. he whines softly as you squeeze. "be a good boy and keep quiet for me, yeah?"

he nods feebly, gnawing on his lower lip. you've barely done anything and yet he already feels ragged, his skin scorching and tight.

something hot and thick prods his asshole. he slaps a hand over his mouth as you snap your hips forward, burying yourself so deep in him that he sees stars, the burning stretch achingly good. "mmph—!"

you hush him softly, holding him steady as he trembles in your arms. the hot weight of your body pinning his into the rough, cold alley wall is almost mind-numbing. "that's my good boy... halfway there. my good boy takes cock so well, doesn't he?"

whining softly, he nods fiercely, gasping out a shaky moan as you press your hips tight against his ass. "mhm, mhm, i do – ah! you're just s-so big, 'm close, so close—"

"already?" your hips smack quick and rough against his ass, the lube making things wet and messy. he shoves his hand between his teeth and claws at the wall, the thick head of your cock grinding into his prostate and gliding against it with each thrust. "i just put it in, baby."

"s-sorry," he squeaks, his breathing haggard as his eyes dart between the ends of the alleyway. the headlights of a car rumble by and he clenches around you, eliciting a deep groan that rattles his spine and echoes in his head. "s-someone's gonna see – fuck, right there – h-hyung, they're gonna see—!"

"they will if you keep squealing your pretty head off," you grunt, gaze trained on the join between your bodies. his ass ripples, bouncing off of your hips with wet smacks, and arousal flames through your veins. you grab his wrists and pin them to the wall beside his head. "but you're so much tighter than usual – s'almost hard to fuck ya," you chuckle breathlessly. "you like this, don't you, my good boy? do you want someone to see the way you're crying on my cock?"

tears prick his eyes. you're right. his heart threatens to pound out of his ribs. he sniffles, moans high and airy. "n-no, i don't, 'm your good boy – please, sir, s-slow down—!"

his hips snap forward with a sharp cry as your cock slams into his guts. his vision whites out and his head spins, his body hot and sweaty even in the cool night, and he melts.

he arches his spine, throwing himself roughly back onto your cock and babbling for more. his hair bounces quickly, sticking to his temples, and his thighs shake violently as he comes into his jocks, sniffling and whimpering with hot tears streaking down his cheeks.

he's so messy. so embarrassed. he's acting like a slut. he squeezes his eyes shut and gulps back his loud moans, turning them into gasped whines and heavy pants as your dick scrapes his insides so wonderfully, filling him up like no one else ever could.

"sir – hyung," he babbles, melting into your hot kisses a little more with each harsh thrust, "hyung, hyung! please—!"

in the alleyway, the indent of the doorway you're hiding yourself in swings open. a familiar sleek face greets you, a cigarette between the lips.

it falls to the ground.

you yank jungkook's hips back onto your cock and he squeals, whimpering in shock and embarrassment as you fill him up right then and there. his huge, teary eyes stare back at you, his shaky hands pushing meekly at your stomach in an effort to get you to pull out, but you just step closer, forcing his body still as cum drips down his inner thigh from his jockstrap.

you tilt your head at the man who once, not too long ago, threw himself at jungkook, expecting to walk away in the morning with a satisfying ache between his legs. a tug on jungkook's long hair reveals the collar of dark, bruising hickeys littering his neck and shoulders.

jungkook moans your name, exhausted, and slumps against the wall, his hands trembling as he tries to steady himself against the cold bricks. you give one final thrust and jungkook keens, practically collapsing into your arms as his knees buckle.

you turn away from the stranger at last, dropping a chaste kiss to the nape of jungkook's neck. he shivers and whines softly, gripping your hips for dear life. you're the only thing keeping him from crumpling to the ground like a stringless marionette.

rapid footsteps. the door slams shut. you hush jungkook, nibbling another hickey into his flushed skin as you slide his pants over his ass.

"such a good boy," you whisper, wiping his tears away with the pad of your thumb. "my good boy, isn't that right?"

after a minute, he nods once, sucking in lungfuls of air as his head gradually clears of the thick fog. he leans back against you, tucking his warm face into the crook of your neck. your arms wrap securely around his waist. "yeah," he whispers vacantly, the tingle of pleasure still zinging through his nerves. "'m hyung's good boy... his..."

he's so cute like this, you think as you stroke his cheek and press a lingering kiss to his bitten lips. walking out of the alley, he grips your hand as if he'll die otherwise, but he decides that it's not close enough and hooks his arm over your shoulder, keeping yours around his bare waist. you help him keep steady on his shaking legs. his rosary of dark hickeys is a public announcement: he is yours, and you are his.

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msbigredmachine · 4 months

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Warm (Jey Uso/OC)

An on-again, off-again couple takes the snowy ride to the next town together.

PAIRING: Jey Uso x OC

Word Count: 6.3k

Warning: The usual smut and everything in between.

A/N: First fic of the year! Enjoy!

Click here if you want to be on the tag list. If I’ve forgotten anyone please let me know so I can add you.

Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

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"Hey girl, got a sec?"

Looking up to see Nia standing right in front of her, Malia stood up straighter. The locker room was full of her friends and fellow wrestlers, all done for the evening and packing up to leave the arena. "What's up?"

"I totally forgot that I agreed to carpool with Maxxine after the show," she said as they exited the locker room together. "I'm really sorry, it totally slipped my mind."

"Oh, that sucks," Malia said, a little disappointed as Nia was great company. "It's no big deal. I'll figure something out."

"Are you sure? It's starting to snow out there. Will you be okay on your own?"

"Alone on the road with full control of the heating and my own playlist?" Malia laughed. "I'll be fine."

Nia nodded. "Okay. I feel bad, so I'll ask around and see if anyone needs a ride. That way you can split the bills and stuff," she offered, pausing when she looked over Malia's shoulder. "Oooh, look who's coming our way," she grinned.

Curious, Malia turned around, and her heart skipped a beat as Josh Fatu walked in their direction, his carry-on behind him and his phone in front of him. She plastered an unbothered expression on her face and turned back to Nia, but the Irresistible Force saw right through the facade.

"Girl, you're blushing already!" she cackled. "You and him still fucking?"

"No, I'm not blushing. And no, we're not fucking," Not lately anyway, Malia added to herself, fluffing her Afro as nonchalantly as possible.

"Liar. You two crack me up, you're totally in love with each other but keep acting like you're not. I did warn you about the whole friends-with-benefits thing."

She did. And Malia caught feelings and had been trying to run from those feelings since. But not with much success, given that she and Josh were both part of the Monday Night Raw roster and lived in the same goddamn city which gave him plenty of access to her. The problem was she was falling in love and he wasn't, so she tried to save face by imposing an extended 'break' from each other, under the guise of 'seeing other people'. Being alone with him on a long midnight drive wasn't going to help her cause to break away.

"It's a three-hour trip from here to Cleveland. Think you can hold off for that long if you go together?" Nia asked, a little too gleefully for Malia's taste.

"Stop with the slander. You make it sound like I'm this raging nympho," she rebuffed.

"When it comes to him? Yes! I've witnessed it! You jump each other's bones every chance you get. How you guys aren't official, I'll never understand. He's getting closerrrr," Nia sang, clearly enjoying the way Malia was trying not to squirm. "Let me go talk to him."

Malia started to panic as Nia moved towards him. "Where are you going?" she warned, "Nia, no!"

"Um, you want a ride or not? Hey, Joshyyyy!"

"Savelina!" Malia hissed, falling silent when Josh looked up from his phone, his gaze lingering on her for a long, tense beat before moving to Nia. "Sup ladies," he said, tipping his bearded chin up in greeting. His jaw moved repeatedly, and she saw he was chewing gum when he opened his mouth to speak. Juicy Fruit, she predicted. His favorite.

"I heard you're driving by yourself tonight," Nia said to him.

His eyebrows rose skeptically. "Yeah..."

"You want a passenger? Cuz my girl over here needs someone to ride with, in more ways than one..."

"Lina, shut up," Malia cut in, stepping in front of her and meeting Josh head-on. "Forgive our friend, Becky hit her in the head too many times tonight," she explained, her insides warming when Jey laughed. "I was supposed to carpool with bitch over here but she made other plans and left me stranded. So umm...if you're going alone, would you mind if I tagged along?" Why the fuck did she sound like she was asking him to Prom?

Again, the air around them simmered with an unknown element. When he took longer than usual to respond, her heart sank a little. "It's cool if you don't want to, I can find someone else-"

"Nah, it's all good, uce, you can come along," he spoke up with a smile. "But I'm 'bout to leave right now, so if you ready-"

"I am," Malia answered, a bit too quickly, and flushed with embarrassment when the corner of his mouth curled upward in a bemused smile. It was then she realized that Nia had disappeared, leaving the two standing alone in the empty hallway.

"Uhh...We should get going," Malia spoke up, scratching awkwardly at the nape of her curly Afro.

Josh nodded, pausing as his eyes scanned her up and down again. "This what you wearin'?" he inquired.

She made a quick, albeit thorough twirl to show off her outfit, a short, figure-hugging beige dress accompanied by a black pair of furry knee-high Uggs. "Yeah, why? What's wrong with it?"

"It's a lil' chilly, no? I mean, don't get me wrong, you look real good, it's just-" Catching himself, he trailed off nervously before he could say anything else inappropriate.

"My jacket is right here, I'll be fine. But if I do get too cold, I'm sure you can keep me warm." Her smile was syrupy sweet as she let the innuendo sink in. The awkwardness was melting away, leaving only the sexual synergy they were both accustomed to.

Josh chuckled to himself and stepped closer to her. "A'ight, I see what'chu tryna do," he said in a lower, huskier timbre that made her loins flutter. "Let's get outta here before I do sum'n we'll both like."

She wanted to ask what was stopping him but instead took the hand he held out to her. It was big and protective and the gentle way he rubbed his thumb over hers always made her feel safe. Together they left the building and into the indoor parking lot. He helped her put her things in the trunk of his Ford Expedition rental, and she fought the urge to stare at his ass when he bent over.

As they began their journey, her gaze landed on her on-again, off-again 'boyfriend', his own fixed on the road ahead. Wearing a fitting dual-colored Nike tracksuit, he looked yummy himself. The hand that had held hers was now on the steering wheel, and she found herself wishing it was touching her again but on a more risqué part of her body this time. They were on a 'break' but she envisioned a lot of difficulty keeping things platonic tonight.

"Since when do you listen to Bon Jovi?" She broke the ice several minutes later, talking over the eighties rock ballad that was playing on the radio and was surprised it hadn't been turned off. "You always used to tell me to change that shit," she laughed.

"They not so bad, they got some good workout songs," he defended with a shrug. "How come you didn't take a flight tonight?" he asked.

She gave a shrug of her own. "I don't know. I probably should have. But with the weather and everything, there'd probably be tons of delays at the airport. I would have ended up sitting there all night. How about you?"

"Same. I prefer the open road anyway," he replied. "Drive fast, blast some good music, you know what it is." He shot her a grin, making selections on the GPS. "Everything good? You comfortable?"

Smoothing her dress down her crossed legs, she nodded and tilted her seat back. "Yeah, I'm good," she responded.

"So how was Christmas? Whatchu do? Spend time with your man?" Josh asked.

Malia snorted and flipped her hair. "Ain't no man. He's an insecure bum so he's gone. I stayed with my brother and his family for a few days, played with my nieces, they're so big now."

He wanted to feel bad about the way his heart leapt for joy about her relationship status. "I told you he was a bum from the jump, uce," he mumbled.

"Well, you were right. Congrats," she bit sarcastically.

"I ain't wanna be right though. I just want you to be happy," said Josh, exchanging a glance with her, his stare filled with its familiar warmth that was charged with something else.

Being here is a bad idea.

"What about you? You were with your boys and their mom, I'm guessing," she kept the conversation going.

"More of the boys, less of their mom," he clarified.

"That's it? No woman to warm your bed?"

He snorted and shot her a bombastic side-eye. "If I remember clearly, you sent the last woman I was with packin', with your razor-sharp ass tongue."

Malia burst out laughing. "Ha, that bitch? She's a clout-chasing airhead. One conversation with her and my IQ got fucked up. Stop messin' with those NXT bimbos, Joshua. It's not a good look."

"Why you so pressed though?" He had an idea, but he wanted to hear it straight from the horse's mouth.

"I'm not pressed. You smarter than that. She wasn't good for you."

"And you know this, how?"

Because she ain't me. None of them are. "I just know," was all she said.

"Huh. We seem to 'know' a lot about each other," Josh noted, "So why don't you want us to stay together?" he asked.

And there it is. "You already know the answer," she responded, with a hint of attitude.

"No I don't, so how 'bout you fill me in, huh," he retorted. They had stopped at a red light so he now had all the time to look her in the eye.

Exhaling a heavy sigh, she refused to get suckered in. "Because. Your roster is deep enough as it is," she mumbled.

"What roster?"

Malia huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh, we gonna play dumb now? I'm not the only woman you're fucking, Joshua."

"The last person I had sex with was you, right before you dumped me for ol' boy," Josh replied, annoyance creeping into his tone.

"Correction. I did not dump you. Dumping implies that we were dating," Malia argued. "I distinctly remember you saying you weren't looking for nothin' serious, so it ain't dumping if there's no relationship to dump."

The silence that followed was deafening, even with the music playing. The temperature in the car plummeted several degrees. Josh simply shook his head. "Damn, that how you feel all this time? Okay then." he tsked, releasing the brakes as the light turned green. "A'ight. Note taken."

The hurt swirling in his voice surprised her. Rattled, she opened her mouth to speak, but wisely decided to close it back. Because there really was nothing to say. This was the consequence of getting involved with someone without setting clear boundaries; the result of repeatedly holding off the simple task of defining a relationship — nothing but uncertainty and heartache. It was the bed she made long ago and now she had to lie in it.

But oddly enough, that seemed to be the appeal of entanglements; the thrill, the warped sense of freedom to do whatever you wanted to each other with no strings. But intimacy always had its attachments, and Malia had been attached to Josh for a long, long time with no idea how to cut the strings without getting hurt.

"The snow seems to be getting worse," she changed the subject and with good reason. They seemed to be driving into a storm. The snowfall was heavier and the nearly empty highway was turning white. "Are you sure we'll make it into Cleveland like this?"

Her question was answered only a few seconds later, by the flashing lights and flares up ahead. A car wreck, and a bad one judging from the amount of fire, rescue, and police crews on the scene. As Josh slowed the car to a crawl, they were greeted by a gruesome tableau.

The many bright, flashing lights cast a grotesque glow on the crumpled remains of an SUV. A black bag, zipped and strapped to a stretcher, was being loaded into the back of an ambulance. Malia's eyes widened with horror. The mangled car was the same type as theirs, and the driver's seat was covered in blood, a lot of it splattered on the white snow. "Oh no...Babe..." she breathed.

Her voice was tiny. Scared. Josh grabbed her hand and squeezed it repeatedly to get her attention. "Ay, don't look. Look at me," he cajoled, waiting for her to do so, running his thumb over hers to quell her panic. "I'll take the next exit. Let's find somewhere to crash until morning." He cringed. "Bad choice of words. Sorry."

"You don't mind stopping?" she asked, feeling a little sick. There was no way she was going any further with what she'd just witnessed.

"Personally, I'd rather be late gettin' where I'm going than never gettin' there at all."

"I agree. I'll check if there's any available hotels nearby," she offered, reaching for her phone in the console.

"You good?" he checked on her again, his fingers flexing around hers.

"I'm okay. It's just...that was horrible," Malia shuddered. "But you calmed me down. You've always been good at that." She smiled gratefully at him.

"Mm-hmm," he mumbled, as he lifted the back of her hand to his lips in a gentle kiss. He then rested his hand on her bare leg, running it up her smooth chocolate skin. Ironically, her dress gave him perfect access to the sensitivity of her inner thigh, and he allowed his fingers to dance over it.

Malia cast her eyes down to watch his hand disappear under her dress. This was what she liked about him so much; his boldness, his sense of adventure. Only he could dare to touch on her while driving on a dark, sleety highway. "Boy, what are you doin'?" she asked as he squeezed her thigh. She tried to play it cool, tried to act like her skin had not been set ablaze by his touch.

"Keepin' you warm," he affirmed nonchalantly, as he slid his palm over her lace panties, his favorite on her, enjoying the feel of her moist warmth against the fabric. He had since learned that he couldn't stay mad at her for long. "I miss you," he whispered, breaching her underwear with one finger.

"I miss you too," she admitted, jerking as the finger slipped inside of her. "Oh, shit," she gasped, tilting her head back against the leather headrest.

"Phew, you wet as fuck," Josh whistled, eyeing up his ex with a Cheshire Cat-like grin. "Ol' boy wasn't fuckin' you like he should?"

Before she could answer, he slid another digit into her wetness, drawing another moan from her. She moved her legs further apart, causing her dress to ride higher up, and grabbed his wrist with both hands. "Fuck, yeah," she sighed, going slack in her seat.

Maybe it wasn't the brightest idea, Josh realized, as the sound of her wanton moans filled the car. As her pussy tightened around his fingers. He wasn't doing much for his own erect state by doing this, but the look on her face convinced him to keep going. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, keeping his eyes on the road. "How's that feel, hmm?" he asked.

The only response she could muster was another breathy moan while strengthening her grip on his wrist. She didn't want to come just yet, but between his fingers twisting deep inside her tightening core and the added heat rushing through her, she knew she wouldn't last long. She wanted this to last forever, just like every time she was with him; she clung desperately to every second, because each one was always better than the last. He just hit different. He always did.

The spell broke when she heard him curse and he abruptly stopped, slipping his fingers out of her. "The fuck?" she whined.

"Sorry, I had to," Josh explained, pointing. The smoky haze of passion and frustration cleared quickly enough for her to realize they had left the expressway and were now pulling into the parking lot of a hotel. Crossing her arms petulantly, she sat up straighter and pouted. "Goddamn tease. You ain't slick," she grumbled.

"Nope. But you are," he emphasized, holding up his fingers covered in her essence and bringing them to his mouth. "Mmm, sweet and spicy, like always."

His dirty snicker had her pussy clenching again. This man was going to be the death of her.

Parking the Expedition in front of the hotel door, they rushed in with their bags to the check-in desk and found the exhausted-looking receptionist behind the counter. It was clear they'd had a massive influx of people and that she was the only one handling everything.

"You're just in luck. We have one room left," the lady replied when Josh asked her if they had any vacancies. "It's probably our smallest room and only has one queen-sized bed, but it's perfect for a lovely couple like yourselves," she smiled warmly.

"We'll take it," Josh responded, handing over his credit card before Malia could reject it. Given the state of the weather outside and that horrendous crash they came across, it was likely the best, safest option.

They got the keycards and made a quick stop at the nearby Chipotle to get some food. Josh paid again, boxing Malia against the counter with his big frame and frowning menacingly at the cashier who had the nerve to flirt with her. Though there technically was no territory to mark, she didn't mind. Besides, it was cold outside and his body heat was inviting and much needed. Afterwards, they returned to the hotel and made it into the small room that was warm, toasty, and quite clean, making them feel a bit better that they wouldn't be stuck in some Bates Motel-type murder house.

"Last time we were stuck in a room together, we spent all afternoon working out how many pinning combinations we could make each other come in," Malia reminisced as she bit into her burrito.

"Yeah. I remember winning," Josh grinned proudly. "You can have the bed, by the way," he gestured to her. "Imma sleep on the couch, give you some space."

"Why?" Malia gave him a stern look. "The bed is big enough for both of us. Plus, your back will be fucked up if you sleep on that lil ass couch."

She wasn't wrong; the couch felt rather firm and it wouldn't be pleasant. Josh was trying to be a gentleman, but he ultimately agreed since driving tomorrow with a backache did not sound ideal.

After finishing their meals, they settled in, and Malia texted the Talent Relations rep to inform them of her and Josh's whereabouts. Unfortunately, the weather forecast on TV was pretty grim as they were expecting upwards of forty inches of snow. Getting to their destination in time tomorrow would be a tough ask.

Josh used the bathroom first to give Malia some privacy. When he re-emerged, she was stripped down to a short white bathrobe that did nothing to hide that body of hers, giving him a little peek of her voluptuous behind as she picked up her toilet bag.

Fuck.

"Babe, do you got a spare shirt I can sleep in?" She stood back upright, her throat drying up at the sight of his towel hanging low on his hips. She watched the rivulets of water drip down his tattooed chest and felt parched.

Josh swallowed. "Sure, I got somethin'." He crossed the room, reached inside his open luggage and pulled out a 'YEET' hoodie. "This okay?"

He gazed into her eyes, and Malia felt her knees quiver, almost like they were threatening to collapse beneath her. "Yeah, thanks," she smiled, taking the hoodie.

"You called me babe again." There was a small, teasing smile on his face.

Malia felt her face burn. "Oh, um...Yeah. Habit. Sorry..." Lost for words, she quickly departed, silently willing her limbs to not give out on her.

Waiting until the door had closed behind her, Josh sank down on the bed and tried to focus on the TV. He could hear her moving around. Brushing her teeth. Undressing. Rubbing his face, he groaned when he heard the shower start. After their argument in the car and what he did afterwards, his emotions were all over the place, and now they had to share this bed. Keeping his hands to himself was going to be a tough ask.

Keep your hands to yourself, Malia repeated to herself over and over as she finished up her skincare routine. It's just one night. Behave yourself. What happened in the car meant nothing.

Yes it did, the voice she fondly named 'Delulu', debated, He misses you, he said so himself. That's why he acted the way he did in the car. That's why he almost bit that cashier's head off in Chipotle.

She had a point. She recalled the full-blown lust in his eyes as he touched her, the eager movement of his fingers inside her as though he couldn't stop himself. Overall, it felt good to know he wasn't quite over her just as she wasn't quite over him.

Don't do it, her other voice, dubbed 'You Right' because it always was, warned. You're just his plaything, always have been. Why do you want to play house with a guy who doesn't love you like you love him? He just misses the pussy. That's it.

Good point.

But I miss the dick too! 'Delulu' pouted.

'You Right' rolled her eyes. Too bad. Take another shower, a cold one this time.

With a heavy sigh, Malia wrapped up her hair and put on her pajamas for the night. The hoodie was big on her, reaching her thighs. She decided against panties, having made up her mind about the voice she was going to listen to.

She returned to the warmth of the bedroom, instantly landing on the ruggedly handsome man stretched out on the left side of the bed. His favorite side. His gaze flickered from the TV to her, his lips twitching into a small smile.

"You make my merch look so sexy, baby," he commented.

"Why thank you Daddy," she replied, then froze, her eyes wide. Shit, did she just say that out loud? Judging from the heated look in his eyes, the answer was yes. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife as they regarded each other.

Sitting up straight in the bed, Josh clapped his hands. "A'ight, enough of this. Come here," he growled.

She thought he would never ask. She hurried to the bed and crawled towards him. He sat up straighter and reached for her, their lips crashing together before he had finished pulling her onto his lap. All the weeks of pent-up urges and desires came pouring out of them both as they kissed like the desperate, needy souls they had become. They only pulled back long enough to take off his t-shirt before they embraced again. His bronzed skin was warm underneath her palms, the touch of his hands seemingly burning through the hoodie onto her own.

Without breaking the kiss, Josh shifted so that they were lying on their sides, helping her tug his sweatpants down his hips. Once they were gone, he pulled her tightly against him as he slid his leg between hers, draping her top leg over his waist. He then pushed his hands under her hoodie, his fingers digging into her waist to grind her against his thigh. Malia smiled at his surprised gasp, his realization that she was wearing his merch and only that. She knew he could feel the moistness of her core, smearing his upper thigh as their kisses got even more heated. She let him pull off the hoodie, and Josh's eyes blazed with need as he gathered her right breast in his hand and devoured it with sucks and licks. Meanwhile her hand wrapped around his dick, stroking for a few moments before easing him inside her.

"Oh, shit," Josh froze, his expression slightly panicked, "I ain't got-"

"Calm down, I still got my IUD. You good." She kissed his lips and reared back a little, letting him push fully inside her, and he ripped his mouth from hers in a low groan and tucked his face in her neck.

"Fuck, Malia..."

She moaned with him, gripping his muscular shoulders as he moved inside her, and groaned again when his hand scraped down her back to squeeze her ass cheek tightly.

"Mmmph..."

"Yeah, I know you like that," he whispered, slapping her ass this time, his breath hot and heavy against her face. "Say my name baby, call out for me."

"Joshua...Daddy..."

"Mm-hmm, I love it. God, you're fuckin' beautiful," he said, his voice rough with need as he tongue-kissed her slowly, matching his grinding thrusts, sending chills running all over her body.

"Ohhh," she gasped, tensing in his arms, bewildered by her desire for him.

"Relax. I gotchu," he promised with another hungry, borderline sloppy kiss. He was nearing the pit of her stomach with his lengthening strokes, but he wanted more. He held up her thick thigh, automatically sliding him even deeper inside her. A big smile lit up his face as her mouth fell open; he knew she could feel all of it, the head of his dick toying with her g-spot, her breathing quickening as her slick moisture made its presence known with every push of his dick into her.

"Hear that?" Josh whispered, "Hear how wet you are?"

Malia dug her nails into his skin, staccato breaths pulling from her lungs as he rammed up into her again and again. "Shit," she whined, "Aw fuck, please don't stop," she begged, tears gathering in her eyes at the thought of him ceasing his actions.

"I ain't stoppin' baby." He couldn't seem to stop kissing her, doing it again as he increased his speed, his dick all up in her wet pussy. The sensations were dizzying, taking her to another dimension. "Uuuunh," she cried out with a shudder, the flutter of her pussy around his cock sending shockwaves of pleasure through her.

"You wanna come, babe? Wanna come for Daddy huh?" He pressed his forehead against hers, his hypnotic eyes holding her gaze as her whimpers for him grew louder. "Come, Malia," he urged with gritted teeth, his heart pounding from the emotions vibrating through him. "Come, baby girl. Nut on Daddy's dick. You look so beautiful when you come."

Malia heard what sounded like waves crashing in her ears. Immediately her body seized up, and her voice was a high-pitched cry as the pleasure ripped through her. Moaning his name repeatedly, her head fell back and she saw stars as the bliss took over.

Man, she missed being touched like this, kissed like this...fucked like this.

Still trembling, she was vaguely aware of him pulling out, letting her leg down and rolling on top of her. Stroking her face, he stared at her with a mix of wonder and tenderness and something else she couldn't quite determine in his eyes.

"What?" she pressed.

Josh licked his lips, looked away for a second and then back at her.

"I love you."

She expected to be shocked, stunned by his declaration. Instead, it felt more like a eureka moment, like she had finally cracked a passcode she had been struggling with for eons, like the world had at last righted itself after an eternity of confusion.

"What took you so long?" she asked, emotion seeping through her tone.

"I don't know," he confessed, and when her brows furrowed, he elaborated. "I just know I can't do this no more. I'm fuckin' tired. I been feelin' this way for too long. You the only one that makes me feel like this."

"Like how?" she breathed. She wanted to hear it, wanted to know if his agony has been anything similar to hers for the past couple of months.

"Like I'm empty inside when I'm not with you. Even when I'm with someone else, I feel like I'm cheating on you," he went on, suddenly feeling free, unburdened. "I can't stop thinking about you, can't function...I don't just want sex, Malia. That's all good but I wanna be your man. For real this time. I want you."

There it was again, that intensity in his eyes that never failed to steal what was left of her breath. If this was a dream, she did not want to wake up. "I love you too. I wanna be with you. Let's not break up ever again. I don't like not being around you," she admitted.

"Same here," he said, covering her mouth with his. This kiss was so passionate, so deep and all-consuming, that she struggled to hang on to her sanity. She groaned against his mouth as he found his way back inside her with a couple of swift, seamless strokes. Her wetness instantly enveloped him again, prompting his hips to roll seemingly on their own accord. Malia wound her arms around him, holding him as close to her as possible. There was no more talk after that, letting their bodies do the talking, writhing together as if they were meant to exist that way.

"Wrap your legs around me, baby," he told her.

Immediately, she wound them around his waist with her ankles locked tight behind his lower back as he rocked into her. She moved with him, matching his tempo in a sweet symphony. There was no space between their flesh; and whatever tiny space remained was closed off with delicious, decadent kisses with lots of tongue. They savored every second in each other, every gasp and moan they elicited from the other. Her wetness compromised the friction between them as his dick slipped in and out of her with ease that still kept her walls snug and taut around him.

"God, you feel so good, baby," she moaned in his ear, weaving her fingers through his soft hair, anchoring him to her as though fearful that he would slip away at any given moment.

"I can feel you dripping all over my dick. You make me wanna pound this good pussy," he mumbled against her neck, his tongue swiping over her heated skin.

"Then pound it," she murmured, spearing him with a hot, hungry look when their eyes met. "Pound my pussy, Daddy, I need it," she practically begged, her voice a pleading whine.

"Bet." Caressing her thighs for a few seconds, he then propped her legs on each of his broad shoulders. Her gaze met the ceiling, clouded over with lust as he hunched over her, working his big dick in her. All she could see within the bluish hue of the small room was his larger, muscular body looming over her, like a glowing, almost nightclub-like dreamscape. His chest tattoos were a beautiful mural that she couldn't stop herself from worshiping, and she leaned up to drag her tongue along his nipple, flicking the hard bud playfully as she caressed his triceps. She was rewarded with harder snaps of his hips, his balls mashing against her ass from how deep he was digging. Every time she tried to look at it, she would grow weak from the sensitivity and fall back against the bed.

"Fuck, Joshua..."

"Mmhmm, I know it feel good. Your tight little pussy is creaming for me," he rasped. Holding her down to the bed, he circled his hips while buried in her for good measure, making her pussy greedily grip the entirety of his girthy length and wringing moans of pleasure from both of them. Dipping her hand down between her thighs, she rubbed on her clit only for her eyes to roll back as an intense fire lit inside her like a firework. Then, clearly intending to destory her, he sat back on his knees and wrapped his arms around her thighs, holding them to his chest as he thrust faster and harder.

"Oh my god," Malia sighed, planting one hand up against the headboard to steady herself. She could feel her breasts bouncing recklessly with each stroke, felt his long fingers grab one and massage it in his hands, then the other, arousing her even more. His dick pulsed inside her as she tightened around him with increasing frequency. She willingly let him take her as he wanted, because she wanted to feel all of him, savor the sight of him breaking down and plunging headfirst into that secret place of pleasure that belonged to them and them alone.

The tricky part was Josh wanted to take her there first. He switched up again by pinning her knees into the pillow on either side of her head, opening her wide. He fucked her like a man possessed, the force of his movements knocking the bed hard and repeatedly against the wall. His hard, pounding thrusts had her pushing her face into the pillow and screaming into it. They hoped the room was soundproof. Either way, he didn't stop, not until the coil inside her body unraveled, and Malia screamed again as she came, hard and hot, her orgasm flushing through her like a tidal wave. It was the sweetest, the realest, the product of the joining of not just their bodies, but something deeper, too.

Josh must have been thinking the same thing, because when he stopped to stare her down again with those beautiful eyes of his, they glittered with warmth and affection. They gazed at each other, the stunned joy of their shared feelings morphing into something richer, something fiercer. He really did love her, she could see it right there on his face. She didn't quite know how she managed to miss it before.

The air between them thickened as they remembered they were still naked and entwined. Reverting back to their primal, passionate state, Josh moved again, thrusting all up in her dripping tightness. Malia gripped his hips to pull him deeper, her fingers digging into the flesh of his ass as he pounded into her with newfound ruthlessness. The mattress squeaked underneath them, mixing with their moans and whimpers and the wet slapping sounds of their bodies. He was close; his strokes became increasingly erratic, his grunts heavier and more vocal, his cock pulsing inside her pussy and his balls tightening.

"Fuuuck, I'm comin' baby, come catch this nut," he pulled out of her and quickly straddled her torso, stroking his dick in her face. Malia opened her mouth wide and poked out her tongue, watching his gorgeous face twist in painful pleasure as he unloaded in her mouth, thick spurts of his salty sweet cum flooding her tongue. Completely turned on, she rubbed herself with one hand and grabbed his dick with the other, stroking him harder to milk him to the last drop. His deep, throaty groan broke her all over again, plummeting her into another incredible orgasm, brought on by the sheer power of his.

Josh's chest heaved as he watched her slap his dick on her open tongue, coated white with his release. He then ordered in a husky voice, "Swallow it."

Malia obeyed heartily, slipping his cum down her throat then gently sucked him off for a couple of seconds, moaning softly from the unique taste of him mixed with her. Josh fought off the urge to nudge his dick deeper into her mouth and pulled away to lie down next to her. The realization of what had just happened must have hit both of them at the same time, because with one glance at each other, they burst out laughing.

"Damn," was all she had the energy to utter, allowing him to pull her against him as their joint laughter rumbled between them. He fucked the shit out of her. She felt like a brand new woman, even now, as he ran his hands all over her body, gifting her with a breathless kiss to her succulent lips. "I guess Lina's plan worked," she giggled, snuggling against him.

"Yeah," Josh agreed, his features suddenly serious as he carefully tucked a loose piece of her hair back underneath her scarf. "I ain't like how you be pushin' me away, Malia," he grumbled, "Don't be scared of us and what we got."

Not for the first time, she wished she'd been brave enough to express her true feelings. "It's not you I'm scared of... I'm scared of us falling apart if we become serious, and I don't wanna live without you," she confessed.

Josh chuckled and pressed his mouth to each of her palms. "You already can't," he smirked.

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and smacked his arm. "You don't gotta agree."

"It's the truth though. But like I said, I love you and I'm not going anywhere. I mean that," he promised.

Hearing those three words from him again made her feel all giddy inside. "I love you, too," she whispered, smiling softly against his lips when he dropped a tender kiss to hers.

"How long's it been since we last fucked?" he inquired.

Two months and three weeks, but who was counting? "Couple of months," she answered, keeping it cool.

"Shame on us. I think we can make up for it, right?"

Malia raised an eyebrow when he started to crawl down her body, sprinkling butterfly kisses down her belly until his head was between her legs. Her body flushed with need. "You know we need to go to bed, right?" she questioned, her fingers sneaking into his hair despite her half-hearted protest.

"I know. But this pretty pussy is callin' my name." He winked at her and bit gently on her inner thigh, dangerously close to her throbbing treasure, soothing the skin with a wet lick. Her keening moan was all he needed to hear. "Now lay your sexy ass back and let Daddy eat."

And with that, he bent his head and spread his mouth over her, wiping every rational thought she owned with mind blowing pleasure.

THE END

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

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stevie-petey · 6 months

Text

episode two: the weirdo on maple street

Trying to ease the awkwardness, you hold up a poster and offer it to them, but Steve snatches it from your grasp. “Henderson, didn’t know you were also a little know-it-all. Why don’t you share your review sheet with the rest of us?” He says, casting a teasing look your way. It isn’t until he inspects the piece of paper that he finally notices that it’s a missing poster for a child, not a review sheet. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.” You snatch the poster back from him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

summary: you use your limited psych knowledge to help a bald girl, you force jonathan to accept $20 and he's later an ass to you, steve doesn't know what a "missing" poster looks like, and it's really hard being a single mother to now four kids.

rating: general, but there's cursing as usual and steve being... well, steve - but hes still season 1 steve so give him some time

warnings: cursing, fem!reader, use of y/n, and there's more angst in this chapter with some fighting between reader and jonathan, so fair warning.

words: 10.1k (the longest thing ive ever written)

before you swing in: i'm almost done with chapter 4, so here's a sweet treat as i cram for exams lmao. some housekeeping: should i do a tag list ? i got a few questions about it, so pls let me know soldiers. also, i feel the need to clarify that i adore nancy but for plot reasons - reader and her don't really get along (but they def will later, trust me). season 1 nancy and steve are just so silly. anyways, i hope y'all enjoy this loooong chapter. the rest definitely aren't as lengthy due to plot, but wow. i amazed myself. carry on !

Your jeans drip onto the Wheeler’s carpet, and you’ve definitely left a wet imprint on the couch cushion beneath you. The other boys are dripping as well, but all their attention is on the girl in front of them.

After finding her in the woods, your motherly instincts kicked in, immediately removing your coat to place on her and gently ushering her to your bike and demanding that the boys go back to Mike’s. Your mom is home, so your house was out of the question, and it’s always been easy sneaking into the Wheeler’s, anyways.

Once you all had made it back, you guided the girl onto the couch and sat next to her. You refuse to let her go too far from you, having no idea where she came from or why, but regardless you know she’s too young for any of it to have been good.

Which leads you to now: wearily watching the boys stare at the girl as if she’s some science experiment, asking her a million questions a second.

Bless them and their little prepubescent minds.

Lucas reaches out to touch her, and before you can nudge him away, Mike slaps at his hand. “Stop it! You’re freaking her out!”

“She’s freaking me out!” Lucas retaliates, which honestly? That’s fair. The girl hasn’t said anything yet, even after your multiple attempts to get her to do so. No matter how much you try, you can’t coax a response out of her.

“I bet she’s deaf.” Your brother offers, suddenly clapping his hands to scare her, making both you and her flinch. “Not deaf…”

You roll your eyes at him. “Guys, she’s probably just really scared right now. We should give her some space,” you look at both Lucas and Dustin, “and time,” now you look at Mike. The three boys deflate a bit.

“She’s probably cold,” Mike says after a moment of silence, and you nod at his suggestion. Seeing your agreement, he walks over to a basket of clothes and takes out some pajamas.

While Mike is away, thunder rumbles and the girl jumps, unconsciously getting closer to you. You wrap an arm around her reassuringly, making note that she doesn’t like loud noises. If anything, she’s showing more and more signs of trauma response, which makes you uneasy. You remember Hopper saying something about Will being in danger. What are the odds that this little girl was running from something as well?

“Here, these are clean.” Mike’s return breaks you from your thoughts, and you take the clothes from him and stand up. You thank him, then offer your hand to the girl. She looks at you uncertainly.

“It’s okay,” you reassure her. “Let’s go get you dressed in some warm clothes. I’m right here, sweetheart.”

“She’s super nice.” Dustin says, trying to help.

Lucas adds, “Yeah, you can trust her.”

“She’s alright.” Is all Mike offers.

You give them all an appreciative smile, even if Mike is being a bit of an ass, and then you feel a small, cold hand wrap around yours. The girl stands up, looking around shyly, and you lead her to the bathroom. When you go to close the door, she stops you.

Mike has followed, seeing the interaction. “You don’t want it closed?”

Her voice is quiet, solemn. “No,”

You and Mike look at each other, and he voices what you’re thinking. “So you can speak.”

He looks excited about this new information, and you shove his head out of the doorway. She needs to get dressed. “We’ll leave the door cracked, okay?”

She nods at you, and you stand guard outside the door. It’s not that you don’t trust the boys, but Mike has only known her for ten minutes and he’s already been nicer to her than you’ve ever seen him with anyone else. The only other person he’s this soft spoken to is Will, so you’re protective of her.

You can hear the boys discussing tonight’s events from the living area while the girl gets dressed. They sound scared, and a part of you can’t blame them. While you’re fairly certain that the girl isn’t dangerous, it’s still a creepy situation. Once again, Hopper’s new theory surrounding Will floats through your mind. This all can’t be some coincidence.

Sighing, you approach the boys and catch a bit of the conversation.

“Our houses become Alcatraz.” You hear Lucas saying, and you figure they’ve finally pieced together that there’s no way any of you can tell anyone about the girl. None of you were supposed to be out tonight. As much as you know you should tell an adult, you also need to be able to help Jonathan with finding Will. If your mom locks the house down, you’re doomed.

“Lucas is right,” the boys turn to you. “We can’t go to anyone about this just yet, but I also don’t think it’s a good idea to hide her. She’s been through something terrible, it’s obvious. Tonight, I say she gets some rest. We can figure out what to do later.”

Mike nods, for once agreeing wholeheartedly with you. “She’ll sleep here tonight-”

Dustin’s eyes widen in horror, “You’re letting a girl-”

You clamp your hand over his mouth, motioning for Mike to continue.

“Thanks, Y/N. In the morning, she sneaks around my house, goes to the front door and rings my doorbell. My mom will answer and know exactly what to do. She’ll send her back to Pennhurst,”

They think she’s from Pennhurst? You think, but don’t verbalize it.

“Or wherever she comes from. We’ll be totally in the clear! And tomorrow night, we go back out, and this time we find Will.”

You gotta hand it to Mike Wheeler, he may be a pain in the ass, but he’s a smart pain in the ass. The plan is pretty sound, so long as he follows through with it. However, it’s him following through with it that leaves you a bit unsure.

He looks at you for approval, and you hesitantly nod. “It’s a pretty good plan, Wheeler. So long as you stick to it.”

Lucas and Dustin nod along with you, there’s an unspoken sense of doubt that Mike will actually be able to turn the girl over to his mom. Then she walks out, dressed now in some of Nancy’s old clothes. She draws into herself when you all turn to her, shy. You walk over and offer your hand again, which she accepts.

“Mike, go find her something to sleep on. Dustin, we gotta go soon before mom notices we’re gone.”

Both boys comply, with Mike searching for a sleeping bag and Dustin packing up his stuff. You crouch down next to the girl, so that you’re face to face, and give her a warm smile. “It was lovely meeting you. My name is Y/N, I hope Mike over there doesn’t give you a hard time tonight.”

Mike flips you off, having heard you. “If he’s annoying,” you lean in close to her now, whispering in her ear. “You have my permission to pinch him.”

The girl giggles, finally relaxing a bit, and you warm with pride. She’ll be okay, she seems like a very resilient girl and you’ll oddly miss her.

The two other boys are waiting for you upstairs. You all wish Mrs. Wheeler a good night and head out. Thankfully the rain has now stopped, so the bike ride home isn’t bad. You stop at Lucas’ turn to make sure he gets home safely before finally arriving at your place. As Dustin begins pedaling into your driveway, you don’t follow.

“I’m going to go see Jonathan, he didn’t answer my calls earlier and I just…”

Dustin waves at you, not even bothering to turn around. “Yeah yeah, go see your boyfriend. If mom asks, you’re asleep.”

“He’s not my boyfriend-”

“Are you seriously going to argue with me after I offered to cover for you?”

Your brother gives you a pointed look, and you know he’s right. “Touche.”

Dustin goes to leave, but you quickly grab at his jacket. “Before I forget, swear to me that you’ll keep me updated if anything weird happens, okay?”

He nods at you, knowing better than to argue, and gives you a mock salute as he heads inside.

The living room light is on when you arrive at the Byers home, despite the late hour, but you aren’t surprised. You knock on the door and wait. When no one comes, you knock again, a bit louder this time. After another few moments, the door swings open.

Jonathan has a finger over his lips in a shushing manner, motioning to Joyce who is passed out on the couch. You nod, letting him know you understand. The two of you go to his room and when he closes the door, you finally get a good look at him. He looks worse than he did earlier, the bags under his eyes have somehow gotten darker. His hair is a mess, his eyes bloodshot.

“You’re soaked.” Jonathan says.

“Yeah,” he doesn’t want to talk about it yet, so you play along. “Got caught in the rain. Are some of my spare clothes still in your bottom drawer?”

He nods at you, going over and grabbing a t-shirt and pajama pants for you. You accept them gratefully and excuse yourself to the bathroom to change. Your bones are cold, the rain seemingly having penetrated the layers of your skin. In the mirror you see that your own eyes are bloodshot; you don’t look much better than Jonathan, really.

When you return Jonathan is sitting on his bed, so you join him. It’s silent between you, all you can hear is his breathing. You stare straight ahead, so does he, and you wait. You’ve only seen Jonathan like this a handful of times, where the stress and anxiety becomes too much for him. He shuts down, draws into himself, and all you can do is wait for him to return to you; he always does.

“Mom got a call tonight.” Jonathan’s voice is hoarse, and he looks frail. You wonder if he ever did end up making the spaghetti you prepared for him.

“Who was it?”

He swallows heavily, taking a moment to respond. “She said it was Will.”

“Will?” You look at him now, searching for any signs on his face, his voice lacks emotion. By the way he stares blankly ahead, as if he’s not really present with you right now, you know that it hadn’t been Will on the other end.

“She started freaking out, going ballistic,” his voice cracks a bit, so you take a chance and reach for his hand. He lets you take it, giving you a squeeze, before continuing. “She was screaming, begging whoever it was to give Will back.”

Jonathan pauses again. You don’t say anything, because no words will help. He’s never been the type for comforting words, anyways. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “It wasn’t him. Lightning struck and our phone got charred. It wasn’t Will.”

Now it’s your turn to squeeze Jonathan’s hand. He doesn’t deserve any of this. None of the Byers do. Out of the entire town, they’re the family who deserves the most that life can give. Will, too good. Jonathan, too selfless. Joyce, too loving. They’re the best damn people you know.

“I tried calming her down, but she was hysterical. She’s only asleep right now because she worked herself up too much and passed out. I’m worried she-'' Jonathan shakes his head, as if ashamed by his own words. “I’m worried she’s going crazy, Y/N.”

He’s quiet again, but you can tell he’s about to break. His knee is now bouncing up and down and his breathing has become slightly ragged. Everything from today has been building up, it was only a matter of time before he snapped. You’re also worried about Joyce, a part of you skeptical to believe her, but the little girl you found tonight in the rain? Something was definitely weird about Will’s disappearance, but you’re hesitant to tell Jonathan just yet. For all you know, she could’ve simply been a girl who got lost and will be returned to her family tomorrow.

You don’t want to worry Jonathan any more than you need to.

“I should’ve been there for him. I shouldn’t have taken that shift.” He gasps out, and like a dam the tears begin to fall. You’re quick to pull him into a hug and he crumbles into you. His body shakes with violent sobs and he clutches at you as if afraid you’ll leave.

“You can’t blame yourself.” You whisper, stroking a hand through his hair. He cries even harder, the force of it almost enough to knock you over, so you situate yourself so that you’re fully on the bed, laying against his pillows, with Jonathan crying into your chest beside you.

“He’s g-gone.”

“We’ll find him, I promise.” Your own tears threaten to come out, but you force them down. You have to be here for him, he needs you. The only other time Jonathan has so openly cried was when Lonnie left years ago. He’s been holding everything in since then, all those years of looking after his family, taking care of his brother, getting harassed by assholes like Tommy Hagan.

Neither of you say anything else, and you know that Jonathan needs to let it all out. You soothe him as best as you can, running a hand through his hair, stroking his back, reassuring him over and over again that none of this is his fault until your own voice becomes hoarse. You don’t know how long you stay like this, but sometime during the night Jonathan finally falls asleep, and you follow shortly after him.

—

Sunlight streams through Jonathan’s spare bed sheet that he’s pinned over his window, serving as a makeshift curtain, waking you up. You stretch, careful not to wake the boy beside you, and crawl out of the bed. You’re antsy, already knowing that today will be another long day. After grabbing some clothes from your designated drawer and getting dressed, you head into the kitchen and start making a quick breakfast. Just as you’re finishing up, Jonathan comes out of his room, dressed and ready for the day.

Neither of you say anything about the night prior, instead silently working around each other in the kitchen with years of practiced ease. He hands you the salt shaker right when you need it, you grab the pieces of toast that he popped into the toaster, the two of you never once get in each other’s way. You get deja vu, remembering all the times you’ve slept over with Dustin, you and Jonathan making the boys breakfast while they slept in.

The only indication that last night really happened is a forehead kiss from Jonathan, his lips soft against your head. Out of the two of you, you’re definitely the touchy one, so it’s always a nice surprise when he initiates the touch, and his forehead kisses were a welcome rarity.

When the plates have been made, Joyce gets up from the couch and stumbles over to the table. You quickly help her sit down, and for the first time since Will’s disappearance you’re able to really look at her. She looks like Jonathan, only worse. The bags under her eyes are darker, her hair is more matted, and you believe she’s still wearing the same shirt you saw her in the night that Will went missing.

“All right, mom. Breakfast is ready.” Jonathan tries to place her plate on the table, but Joyce stops him, worried about the poster of Will.

Jonathan gives you a look and you run over to the table, grabbing the poster so that he can set the plate down.

Joyce gives you a tired smile, “Thank you, Y/N, but I can’t eat.”

“I just need you to eat, mom.”

“Jonathan’s right, Mrs. Byers. You need to eat, we gotta keep your strength up.” You feel like you’re talking to a child, but in a way, you suppose you are.

The woman lights a cigarette instead, and faintly you wonder how many she’s had within the last 48 hours; you’ll need to wash your clothes when you get home. She begins to ask Jonathan to go to Xerox to make as many copies of Will’s poster as possible. You sit down in front of her, silently eating, knowing there’s no place for you in this conversation.

It’s not that the Byers are ashamed that they have little money, but you know it’s rude to listen in. They make do with what they have, and Jonathan has never felt embarrassed with you knowing it.

“I don’t want you to go alone,” Joyce says, causing you to speak up.

“I’ll go with him and help hang them up, it’s no problem.”

Jonathan turns to you. “You have that chem test, remember? I’m not letting you miss that.”

“Shit…” you bury your face into your hands. You completely forgot about that after finding the little girl last night and dealing with Jonathan. You’ve heard about how impossible the chem exams were, and science has never been your best subject. That was Dustin’s thing, your thing was more humanities.

“You’re the smartest person I know, you’ll ace the exam,” Jonathan reassures you before turning to his mom. “And I’ll handle the posters, it’s okay.”

Joyce has been lost in thought during your conversation with her son, only beginning to speak again when she’s asked how many copies will be efficient. Once she starts speaking again, it’s almost like she’s physically unable to stop. She begins to ramble, finally exposing the crumbling woman that you’ve only heard about, now understanding Jonathan’s fears for her.

“Mom-”

“If we… ten cents-”

“Mom!” Jonathan raises his voice a bit, now grabbing at his mother’s hand. “You can’t get like this, okay?”

The look on Joyce’s face kills you. She looks so lost, ashamed of her behavior, and you cast your head down; this is a private matter. Joyce profusely apologizes to him and all Jonathan can do is gently reassure her that it’s okay. All of this is okay.

Their tender moment is interrupted by knocking on the front door, revealing Hopper on the other side. His presence makes you uneasy, so you stay in the kitchen and begin to clean up with Jonathan while Joyce attacks him with questions.

“A little bit of trust here, alright? We’ve been searching all night.” You hear the cop say. Your hand clenches the sponge, rubbing a bit harder at the plate you’re cleaning. If they’ve been searching all night, why are they here now?

“Went all the way to Cartersville.” Ever since Will disappeared, you’ve been building a wall of hope within you that he’ll be found safe and sound. However, with every passing day, with every new situation that occurs, you can feel a piece of the wall collapse. You can feel it now; the search party went all the way to Cartersville.

“And?” Joyce asks.

“Nothing.” The cry that Joyce lets out causes you to drop the plate you’ve been cleaning, shattering on the floor. You curse, immediately bending down to pick up the pieces. Luckily it didn’t shatter into a million bits, but you still feel horrible for breaking one of their dishes.

Jonathan bends down as well to help, and the commotion catches Hopper’s attention. He sees you scrambling to clean up the mess and sighs with annoyance. “Does she live here or something?”

You and Jonathan look at each other, a slight smile on your faces, and only respond to Hopper with a synchronized shrug. You basically do live at the Byers’ at this point, you have been for years now. It was the same for Jonathan: if you weren’t at his house, he was at yours.

Joyce wipes some of her tears away. “Y/N is family, she’s here to help.”

Hopper ignores this, instead bringing up the phone call from the night before. Joyce leads him over to the phone, and you join them once you’ve collected the remaining pieces of broken glass. When you see the phone, you can’t help but gasp. Jonathan’s words from last night are accurate, the phone is charred.

“Storm barbecued this pretty good.” Hopper says.

Joyce waves her arms out, disbelieving. “The storm? You’re saying that that’s not… weird?”

“No, it’s weird.” Hopper begins, but you cut him off.

“It’s really weird.”

He glares at you. You mumble a quick sorry and back away a bit while Jonathan asks if the call can be traced. Hopper focuses back on the situation at hand, informing him that it isn’t possible and then questions if Joyce even heard Will in the first place. The question makes you cringe, knowing it’ll only make Joyce more agitated and hurt.

“Flo said you just heard some breathing.”

It’s the way he phrases the question, the way he emphasizes the word “just”, that bothers you. This woman has just lost her kid, what kind of mother wouldn’t know her own child’s breathing?

“Even if it was ‘just’ some breathing, I’d know it was my brother. Will is her son, she’d know better than anyone.” You find yourself saying. The words weren’t meant to leave your mouth, but the appreciative look Joyce casts your way outweighs the fear from Hopper’s glare.

“It was him. It was Will, and he was scared. Then something-”

“It was probably just a prank call,” Hopper tries to reason with her, causing you to roll your eyes at him. You respect the guy, you do, but could he at least attempt to listen to Joyce?

You excuse yourself before you say anything else, heading back into the kitchen to collect the two posters you and Jonathan made. While the others talk, you grab his things and pack his bag for him. You know he’ll probably skip school today to get the copies done in time, maybe keep an eye on his mom, so you make a mental note to inform him later that you’ll help with putting the fliers up the second you’re done with the exam. He needs someone there for him.

When you’ve grabbed the last of Jonathan’s things, Lonnie’s name is mentioned. You freeze, standing right outside the hall from them, only a wall between you. If Lonnie is somehow involved in this, you’ll kill him yourself. He was always cruel to Will, even when you were around to witness it. You hate him more than anything in this damn world.

“It’s been long enough, I’m having him checked out.” Hopper declares, storming out of the house.

You count to three in your head, and the second you get to three, Jonathan is following after Hopper. You knew he would, hating his father the most out of everyone who has had the displeasure of meeting him. You follow behind him, heading outside to talk to the Chief.

“Hey, Hopper. Let me go.”

Hopper takes a drag from his cigarette, facing the two of you. “I’m sorry?”

“To Lonnie’s,” Jonathan says, looking at you for backup.

You do your best to try. “If Will’s there, that means he probably ran away. Cops will scare the poor boy, he’ll think he’s in trouble.”

“And he’ll hide. He’s good at hiding.” Jonathan finishes for you.

Hopper stares at you both, inhaling more smoke from his cigarette and blowing it in your direction with a curious look in his eyes. “You two are sickening to be near, you know that?”

You and Jonathan share an annoyed look. A kid is missing, and you still have to clarify that you aren’t together? “It’s not like that,” Jonathan says.

“Sure, you know cops are good at detecting lies,” Hopper approaches him now, grabbing his shoulders. For a brief second you’re afraid he’ll hurt him. “And we’re also good at finding, okay? Stay here with your mom. She needs you.”

Hopper punches at Jonathan’s shoulder before facing you. “And you,” you brace for whatever he’s about to say, knowing you probably aren’t his favorite person at the moment. He points at Jonathan, “He needs you.”

His words hang in the air several minutes after he’s gone. You glance at Jonathan, but he doesn’t meet your eye and instead he goes back inside. You sigh, following after him because it’s what you do. Hopper’s right, he needs you.

Jonathan’s in the living room, speaking softly to his mom when you enter. You don’t disturb them but rather snatch Jonathan’s keys from the counter and wait for him by the door. Like Joyce said, Xerox opens in about thirty minutes and you have a chem exam to take. If you leave now, you’ll be able to make the copies with him and be back in time before school.

The ride to Xerox is tense, you know Jonathan is upset that he’s been sidelined by Hopper. You also know that he’s torn between wanting to help his mom and staying out of his house as much as possible. If it weren’t for your god damn chem test you’d offer to skip and hide out at your place, but you can’t. Jonathan wouldn’t let you risk your future for him (even though you would, in a heartbeat, a million times over).

The man at Xerox gives Jonathan a look of pity, clearly recognizing Will’s picture on the poster. It’s your favorite photo of him, smiling with all his teeth and happy as can be. From what you’ve heard, the whole town has been conducting search parties for him. Jonathan ignores the look and asks for the 200 copies to be made.

It’s just you and him in the store as you wait for the prints to be done. The guy said it’d be about a ten minute wait so you wander around the store. Jonathan clearly is in a no talking mood, so you occupy yourself with whatever you find. You wish you’d brought your backpack to Jonathan’s last night so you could at least study a bit while waiting, but you didn’t. It’d be a miracle if you pass this exam.

Jonathan wanders around as well, so you give a quick look around and find the employee. He’s standing over the printer when you approach. “I’d like to pay for the copies, please.”

“You can pay after they’re done-”

“No, I can’t let him see,” you point over to Jonathan, who is now looking at some stationary. “Please, just let me pay now so he can yell at me later.”

The guy gives you a shrug, clearly not getting paid enough to care. “Okay, it’ll be $20. Just leave the money on the counter over there, the prints should be done soon.”

You nod and do as you’re told, leaving the $20 bill on the counter while Jonathan isn’t looking. He can kill you later, right now you want to make up for not being able to help with hanging them up. There’s literally hundreds to get through, he can’t do that all alone.

When the posters are done and Jonathan collects them, you wish the worker a good day and then wrap your arms around him and use all your strength to drag your friend into the car. He doesn't fight back at first, too confused by your actions, and you’re almost out the door before he sees the man pocket the money and wave at you. The dots connect in his head and Jonathan begins to fight against you.

“Y/N, let me pay-”

“Nope. Not happening!”

“We both know I’m stronger-”

“Debatable, honestly, seeing as how we’re almost to your car.”

“Let go!” He tugs harshly as his arm, which you’ve got a secure hold on, causing you to stumble a bit.

You plant your feet more firmly against the ground and use all your weight to pull the boy forward. You’re a few feet away from the car, just one more solid pull should do the trick. “Stop fighting this, Byers. I’ve already paid-”

“Which you shouldn’t have!”

“Keep fighting and drop all the posters, I dare you.”

Jonathan looks down at the posters in his spare hand, realizing that you’re right. If he doesn’t give in soon, they’ll topple over. He lets out an agitated groan, throwing his head back, and then marches over to the car to unlock it and fling himself into the driver’s seat. “Just get in.”

You do a small victory dance and hop in the car.

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

He hesitates only for a moment. “God, I hate that I do.”

You smile, buckling your seatbelt. Jonathan pulls out of the parking lot and begins the drive to school. He’s less tense this time, at least. The small little wrestling match between the two of you seemingly did some good, then.

When you pull up to school, you once again apologize to Jonathan for being unable to help. He waves you off, understanding.

“It’s okay, I promise. I can’t have you failing out of high school because of me.”

You roll your eyes. “One test won’t make me become a high school dropout, Jonathan.”

He ruffles your hair, which you slap him for. “You can join me after, okay? Good luck, bug.”

“Fine, but I’m taking some posters with me so I can hang up on my way to my locker.”

“Deal.”

You run to your locker, flinging it open and letting out a sigh of relief when you spot your chem cards. Honestly, you really should’ve prepared better for your little sleepover at the Byers. You glance at the watch on your wrist, noting that you have roughly fifteen minutes to memorize all the elements in the periodic table as well as some chemistry definitions.

Just peachy.

You tie your hair up so you can focus better and grab the note cards. If you review the cards as you walk to class, you can save at least three minutes of studying time. You tuck the few remaining posters of Will under your arm and begin to head to your class, getting absorbed in all the elements and words. As you’re skimming a card about protein being K, you run into Nancy and Barb, who also seem to have the same idea as you.

“Oh, hey Y/N.” Nancy greets you, Barb waving to you as well.

They’re being nice, so you try to make conversation. “Studying for Kaminsky’s test?”

They nod at you and Nancy sighs, “Yeah, his exams are the worst.”

You laugh a bit, for once on the same page as her. “I know. I spent last night at Jonathan’s, I completely forgot about the test until this morning. I’m screwed.”

Barb raises her eyebrows at you while Nancy suddenly looks sad. “Oh, I’m sorry about Will. I know you and him are close.”

“Yeah, it must be hard taking care of Jonathan right now.” Barb voices.

You give them both an awkward smile. “Thanks, I guess? It’s just, there’s still hope, so…”

The three of you stand there as your voice trails off. It’s painfully awkward. While you’ve known Nancy since you were 12, and at some point you even called her a close friend of yours, the second you entered high school she became distant. You never blamed her for it, people simply grow up and grow apart. Now you only ever interact with her if it concerns the boys.

Trying to ease the awkwardness, you hold up a poster and offer it to them, but Steve snatches it from your grasp.

“Henderson, didn’t know you were also a little know-it-all. Why don’t you share your cheat sheet with the rest of us?” He says, casting a teasing look your way. It isn’t until he inspects the piece of paper that he finally notices that it’s a missing poster for a child, not a review sheet. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.”

You snatch the poster back from him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

His friends laugh, but Steve has a bit of heart to look guilty, so you count that as something. His shame doesn’t last long though and the goofy and sweet boy who made sure you were okay after almost hitting you with his car is gone.

Steve plays off the situation as if it were nothing. “Let me make it up to you, Henderson. I know you’re probably stressed out of your mind dealing with boyfriend troubles because of Bill-”

“His name is Will,” you grit out, remembering now why you dislike Steve so much. Everything was about impressing his friends, and while you can sympathize with him, it doesn’t give him an excuse to be an asshole.

“Right, Will. Anyways, I was just about to inform Nance over here that my dad has left town on a conference and my mom’s gone with him, ‘cause, ya know, she doesn’t trust him.”

“Good call,” Tommy says, and you glare at him.

Steve carries on. “So, are you guys in?”

“In for what?” Nancy asks.

“No parents, a big house?” Carol says, as if Nancy is a giant idiot.

You feel bad for her being treated so poorly by her boyfriend’s friends, so you lean in and whisper, “A party, Nancy.” Then you look at Steve. “And no, I’ll pass.”

Steve pouts. “Can’t leave loverboy alone for a couple hours?”

You scoff, shoving the poster against his chest, using more force than probably necessary, but the satisfying grunt he lets out pleases you. “If I didn’t know you I’d say you sound jealous. Unfortunately, I do know you, and that’s exactly why I’m not interested.”

“Meow,” says Carol as she and Tommy laugh.

You ignore her and push past the group to get to class. You’ve wasted enough time, you have to study. Steve lets you, hurt by your words, but tries to play it off, instead focusing his attention on Jonathan up ahead hanging up some posters. You both see him at the same time and as you start to approach him, you hear Steve and his group mock him.

“God, that’s depressing.” Steve says, and you’ve never wanted to hit a man more than you do right now.

You glance at Nancy, trying to convey your disappointment in her. She’s a nice girl, she shouldn’t be with an idiot like Harrington. Who the hell makes fun of a guy with a missing brother? Nancy doesn’t meet your eye, which pleases you. She should feel guilty.

As you near Jonathan, Nancy calls after you to wait up. You listen, mostly because you’re surprised she even followed, and together you walk up to him. “Hey, bee. I thought you’d be long gone by now.”

Jonathan looks up at your voice, surprised when he sees Nancy next to you. He gives you a look that you conclude is a what is she doing here? look and you can only shrug as if to say I have no clue how I ended up in this situation.

Nancy doesn’t see this exchange. “Hey,”

“Hey,” Jonathan responds, still confused.

Nancy looks at you uncertainly, but you refuse to leave. Screw your exam, if she even considers voicing her boyfriend’s opinions to Jonathan then you’ll personally see that she fails alongside you. “I just… I wanted to say, you know… I’m sorry, about everything.”

Oh, she’s being nice. You’re still unimpressed, but Jonathan motions to you to stop staring her down, so you reluctantly listen.

“Everyone’s thinking about you.”

You all turn towards Steve and his group, who are clearly listening in, and you snort at her words. “Right, obviously.”

“Y/N.” Jonathan warns.

“Sorry.”

“It sucks.” Nancy continues, and you have to give her some credit. You’re being a blatant bitch, but she’s still trying. You feel a bit bad now, which honestly makes you dislike her a bit more. Damn morals. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, he’s a smart kid.”

The bell rings, ending Nancy’s little monologue. “I have to go, chemistry test. Y/N, want to walk together?”

She really makes it impossible to be a bitch to her. “Sure, just give me a second.”

You lean close to Jonathan and lower your voice. “Good luck with your dad, bee.”

“How did you know I’d go-”

“Because of course you would. Now go, give him hell for me, will ya?”

Jonathan nods, relieved you aren’t pushing the topic. You know that Lonnie is a sore topic for him, for the entire Byers family, really. You only knew Lonnie for a year or so before Joyce left him, but you’ll never forget his spiteful words and the bruises that Jonathan tried to hide from you. He needs to do this alone, father and son.

You see Nancy watching, and just to spite her you kiss Jonathan’s cheek, relishing in the fact that she looks away, and you wish him luck once again before following her to class.

The test isn’t as bad as you’d feared, and the rest of the day goes by with relative ease. You don’t see much of Steve and his group and you’re thankful for that. Nancy also keeps her distance, no longer attempting to be all buddy buddy with you. A part of you feels bad about that, because honestly the thought of someone thinking you hate them makes you feel physically ill, but as long as Nancy is with someone like Steve, there’s not much you can do about that.

After school you stop by all of Jonathan’s classes and collect the work he’s missed over the last few days; he has enough to worry about, so you figured you could help do some assignments for him. It’s nothing unusual, truth to be told. There was a time you were out for two weeks straight due to the flu one year and Jonathan did every one of your assignments, so it’s about time you returned the favor.

Once you have what you need, you hang up the remaining flyers in your bag and begin your journey to work. You’ve used up all of your sick days helping the Byers, and while Mrs. Waters has insisted on letting you have more time off, you figured the distraction would be good for you. Jonathan will want some space after confronting his dad, and as much as you hated Lonnie, something told you he had nothing to do with Will.

Just when your shift is almost done, your coworker, this young kid named Alex who you’re honestly surprised can legally work, informs you that your mom is on the phone and wants to speak with you. You stack the remaining books in your hands and thank him, walking over to pick up the call.

“Hey, mom. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, sweetie! I was just calling to tell ya that Dusty is at the Wheeler’s tonight for dinner, so my plan for ribs won’t work without him. I was wondering if darling Johnny could feed you tonight? I know the two of you have that little sneaky food game.”

Your posture, once slumped over and uninterested, now straightens out. Why the hell is Dustin having dinner at the Wheeler’s? They never do that. “Uh, sure mom that won’t be an issue.”

Your mom lets out a sigh of relief. “Bless that Jonathan! I’ve always liked him…”

Your mom may be the biggest Jonathan supporter you’ve ever met. “Yeah, he’s your favorite. I know,” you shift a bit to catch Alex’s attention, mouthing to him that you need to leave work early. “Hey, did Dustin by chance say how long he’ll be at the Wheeler’s? I can swing by and pick him up after my shift.”

“Oh, I think he’s staying the night there. He mentioned something about Mike not finishing his part of their little science project?”

They’re calling the little girl a science project now? Boys are so typical. “Oh, I see. Well, I gotta get back to work, mom. I’ll be home late tonight.”

Your mom wishes you goodbye and warns you not to be out too late. You hum, already trying to figure out the quickest route to the Wheeler’s house. You can’t say you’re surprised that Mike didn’t follow the plan, but you also can’t say you were prepared for this either.

Alex comes back with your boss and you quickly make up a lie about not feeling well. Mrs. Waters gives you a pitying look and tells you to go. You’re incredibly grateful for her, she’s like a grandmother to you and has always been so kind.

You quickly bike to Mike’s house, going over a grand speech in your head for the boys. Logistically speaking, you’re not sure if they can even harbor the little girl in his basement. Would it be kidnapping? Could kids even kidnap other kids? You aren’t sure and you definitely aren’t willing to find out.

You arrive at the house just as Nancy and Barb are pulling out of the driveway, presumably to Steve’s grand house party. They wave at you awkwardly and you don’t have it in you to wave back. You park your bike next to their doorstep and knock on the door.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Mrs. Wheeler asks after opening the door.

“Oh, I was just wondering if I could hang out with the boys tonight? Jonathan’s busy and I promised Dustin I’d help with their campaign.”

Mrs. Wheeler cocks her head at you. “But I thought there was a special assembly at the school for Will? Nancy and Barb just left for it.”

You feel your blood boil a bit. There was no assembly for Will at your school, and it was really damn low of Nancy to use his disappearance as a cover story for her stupid party. She’s known Will since he was practically a baby. You have no idea how someone could be so unaffected by a missing child, let alone one who has been at your house every damn weekend for years now.

“Oh, that!” You force yourself to remain calm; there isn’t time to snitch on Nancy, Mrs. Wheeler would only have more questions for you. “Yeah, I’m, uh, skipping it. Jonathan doesn’t want to go, so after he’s back from his errands I’m heading over to his place to, you know, comfort him?”

The woman stares at you for a second, trying to determine if there are any lies to your words. You’ve never been the best liar, but being the oldest Henderson child has unfortunately prepared you for being quick on your feet when needed.

“Well, come on then. They boys just went downstairs, and if you can please remind them to bring the plate of food back up here I’d really appreciate it.”

You thank Mrs. Wheeler and let yourself in. Her words have all but solidified your suspicions: Mike kept the girl.

When you descend the basement steps, it’s almost comical how the kids scramble to hide the girl like little cockroaches. They run around and Dustin screams something about covering her before the poor girl is being manhandled into a sheet as Mike screams at Lucas and Dustin to calm down.

“Guys! It’s just me! Jesus!” You shout, shoving past Mike to rush over to the girl and free her from the sheets. She looks more frightened than usual, but at least she’s alive.

“God, why am I always the one you push?”

You shush Mike, smoothing back the girl’s hair and offering her a reassuring smile. “Remember me, sweetheart?”

The girl nods and softly says, “Y/N.”

“Very good. I’m going to scream at my brother real quick, so why don’t you cover your ears for me so you don’t get too frightened?”

“Wait, what-”

The minute her ears are covered, you turn to Dustin and begin screaming. “Are you brain dead and not understand the words ‘tell me if anything weird happens’ or do you simply lack the appropriate empathy needed for a concerned sister?”

Dustin ducks his head in shame. “Y/N, look-”

“No! I’m all for helping you guys with your adventures and whatever, but Will went missing and then she appears and Mike,” you turn to him and he hides behind a frightened Lucas. “You said you’d stick to your plan. Now tell me, did you?”

Mike shakes his head, his eyes wide. Dustin looks no better as he cowers behind the others. Lucas simply shrugs, knowing that this would happen. You never, ever, yell at the boys; the few times you have in the past, all hell had broken loose.

“Y/N-”

“Zip it, Henderson. I’m so pissed off at you right now and if you want to make it to thirteen I suggest you keep quiet.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now, why don’t you guys catch me up on what you’ve so sweetly kept hidden from me.” It’s worded as a question, but the boys know better than to deny you.

You sit on the ground so that you’re next to the girl and then motion for the three boys in front of you to start speaking. They look at Mike, giving him a nudge, and he hesitantly steps forward to begin speaking. “Her name is El.”

The girl, El, looks up at you and smiles. You return the smile and knock your shoulder against hers in a playful manner. “Nice to meet you, can I ask what El is short for?”

“Eleven,” she says, and you want to question the name further but the look on Mike’s face stops you. Now is not the time, you guess.

“El, she’s… different.” Mike continues, looking around nervously. He’s acting as if someone could break in any second and snipe you guys, and a part of you doesn’t doubt it can happen. “She has these powers, like, mind control powers.”

You snort, unable to stop yourself. El looks at you, looking unoffended, seemingly expecting this reaction. However, Mike groans at you. “Y/N, this is serious. She-she knows about Will.”

At this, your smile fades and you feel an overwhelming sense of hope take over you. You find your arms wrapping around El before you can control yourself and you give her a tight hug. She stiffens in your arms and you immediately pull away. “I’m sorry, I just… sorry.”

She laughs a bit, softly saying that it’s okay.

“Do you really know Will? Where he is?” You ask, almost too scared to say the words out loud. If she’s telling the truth… you shake your head in an attempt to dispel any false hope. You don’t know this girl, she could be lying.

Before El can say anything else, Mike speaks for her. “She does, but there’s bad men out there who want to hurt her. I think they’re after Will, too.”

You freeze. “Bad men?”

“Yes, this is why we didn’t want to tell you!”

“I wanted to tell her,” Lucas says, which causes Mike to glare at him.

You wave your arms at the two boys, breaking up their fight. “Mike, what do you mean by bad men? Honey,” you look at El, “did someone hurt you? Are you in danger? Should I call the police?”

“No!” All three boys shout at once.

You look at them, at the genuine fear in their eyes, and sigh, “Okay, if you can give me a good reason not to call the cops, I won’t.”

“Did you not hear the part about El having powers?” Dustin asks.

“Gee, Dustin. You’re right! It’s like her having powers is totally believable and reassuring to the situation at hand!”

“I can show you,” El speaks up.

You all face her now. “You can?”

She nods at you, getting up and grabbing your backpack that you threw on the ground when you walked in. She rustles through it while you and the boys look at one another. After a few seconds, El grabs one of your comic books and places it on the table. She looks at you and tilts her head, indicating for you to sit down next to her; you do as you’re told.

El straightens out your comic and then closes her eyes, going completely still. The air around you shifts and you can practically feel the static electricity encasing you; the hair on your arms stand up. The pages of the comic begin to flick up, fluttering as if someone is thumbing through them in rapid succession. You watch as the Spidey panels flash before your eyes, the pages flying faster and faster until it becomes almost frightening to be near. Then, once it gets to its last page, the comic flies up into the air and hovers for a few seconds, right in front of your face.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, your eyes wide.

Just as quickly as it began, the comic drops back onto the table. You look up at El and see that her nose is now bleeding, which rips you back to reality. The chair scrapes against the ground as you get up to help her, dabbing at the blood with a tissue that had been laying on the table.

“Do you believe us now?” Mike asks, a smug look on his face.

You gently wipe away the remaining blood from El’s face, looking her in the eye and directing your words to her. “I’m listening, sweetheart. What can you do to help us find Will?”

El smiles, pleased to have earned your trust, and you get the feeling that this little girl is the most powerful thing in all of Hawkins, maybe even the world. At her request, Mike places his DnD board on the table and arranges the pieces for El to use. She sits down and closes her eyes once more.

Lucas gives you a doubtful look. “What’s the weirdo doing?”

You flick his head, not enjoying the name calling. Honestly, you thought you raised these boys better than that.

El seems to accomplish whatever she was doing and picks up the wizard piece, murmuring, “Will.”

You feel your heart stop. Will always insisted on being the wizard whenever they played the game. He was Will the Wise, forever and always. El couldn’t have simply guessed that, and you know it’s her-

“Superpowers,” Dustin finishes your thought for you. The two of you exchange a glance and you notice the slight glee in his eyes. Under different circumstances, you’d also find this all pretty cool.

Mike sits next to El and begins to ask some questions about where she last saw Will. She gives him a look that you can’t quite decipher before swiping her arm across the table and spilling the pieces onto the floor. She then flips the board over, having it now face upside down, and places Will’s piece back down.

You knit your brows together, trying to follow along. El’s movements are methodical and carefully planned, being unable to find the right words due to her poor speech, and you try to piece together the information you’ve been given.

“I don’t understand,” Mike says, being extra gentle with El. You’ve never seen him so soft spoken before and you’re grateful at least one of the boys doesn’t view her as some monster. Which reminds you that you need to have a conversation with Dustin about respecting women, but for now you’ll hold off.

“Hiding.” says El.

He’s good at hiding, Jonathan’s words echo in your head.

“Will is hiding?”

El nods, now looking more nervous. You can tell that Mike is getting closer to information that she doesn’t want him near, which finally causes you to ask the question that’s been heavily on your mind. “From the bad men?”

Now El gives a slight shake of the head, and Mike presses on. “Then from who?”

Without saying anything, El places a second piece onto the board right in front of Will’s. It’s a piece you’re unfamiliar with, with two snake-like heads that loom over the small wizard piece. Whatever it is, you know it isn’t good judging the way Mike, Dustin, and Lucas look at each other in fear.

You turn to Dustin and whisper, “What’s that piece?”

Your brother puts his hands behind his head and sighs deeply, a new resigned look on his face. He looks as if he’s just aged thirty years, which you find a bit dramatic. “It’s the Demogorgon.”

“The Demo-what?” The name sounds familiar, but you can’t remember anything about it.

Mike looks at you and for once his voice holds no annoyance when he says, “There’s a lot we still have to catch you up on.”

–

Your head is spinning as you bike to Jonathan’s with all the new information you’ve just received. Demogorgons, magical vortexes, kids with damn superpowers. It’s all a lot for you to take in, and while you fully believe that El is something entirely different from a normal little girl, how can you be sure that it’s connected to Will? While his disappearance still confuses you, it’s illogical to jump to supernatural conclusions.

Dustin had begged you to let him spend the night at Mikes in order to keep talking to El, and you only agreed because you figured you’d be at Jonathan’s again tonight anyways. He’s been MIA all day and you’re worried as usual, but you made him and Mike swear to you that they’d stay put in the house. At least this way they’re in one place, so if they screw around they’ll be easier to find.

When you arrive at the Byers home you notice that Jonathan’s car isn’t in the driveway, which only confuses you further. Where the hell is he? You gave him all day to deal with Lonnie and cool off, trusting that he wouldn’t do anything stupid for twelve hours, and yet…

You fear he’s done something stupid.

You don’t have time to think too much about Jonathan’s absence because a frantic Joyce runs out the door screaming. She runs straight past you and into her car, and the house begins to light up like a christmas tree. You can hear The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go, a song that Will once had on repeat for three weeks straight, and you can feel the same static electricity in the air that you felt when El used her powers in front of you.

Joyce suddenly gets out of the car and spots you, pointing towards her house. “You see that too?”

You swallow. “Yeah,”

She nods, as if your confirmation is all she needs to determine her sanity, and then marches inside. You stand in the yard, motionless. You’re terrified, and after learning about El tonight, you don’t have it in you to discover any other supernatural beings in Hawkins at the moment. Sighing, you follow after the woman because Jonathan isn’t home and someone needs to talk her down from whatever panic attack the flashing lights have inevitably caused.

“Mrs. Byers-”

“Y/N, you can’t tell me there isn’t something,” Joyce waves her hands in front of her face, almost grasping at the air, “weird about all of this. That was Will’s song, the lights were flashing in Will’s room, something came out of Will’s wall-”

“Something came out of his wall?”

“Yes! I’m not… I promise I’m not crazy, okay? You saw it, please tell me you saw it.”

You bite your lip, now thinking about El. You swore to Mike you wouldn’t tell anyone about her, and honestly you’re not sure that you should tell Joyce about her right now. You’re still unsure if El is being honest with you, and you can’t just give the woman false hope for her son. It’d kill you if you were wrong about El. But seeing the lights, hearing the music, the thing in the wall… There’s something that she’s not telling you.

“Mrs. Byers… I’m not quite sure what I saw, but we just had a bad storm and it could be faulty wiring.”

Joyce slumps her shoulders, frustrated that you aren’t conspiring with her. You just… you can’t. Not yet. Not before you figure out what the hell El is doing in Hawkins. You refuse to worsen Joyce’s already chronic anxiety and paranoia; Jonathan would never forgive you if you fed into her delusions, but it kills you to lie to her.

“Look, I do think that something is weird about this entire situation, “ Joyce’s face lights up, but you’re quick to add, “however, there’s no proof. You, I mean-Mrs. Byers, you’ve seen things in the past. You’re stressed, and anxious, and all the other synonyms.”

The woman lets a few tears drop from her eyes, now embarrassed. “Maybe you’re right. I-I’m sorry, honey. I just-”

You grab her hand. “I know,”

Her smile is brittle, a ghost of the once beautiful smile she’d give you, and your heart breaks for her.

After your conversation, Joyce excuses herself to her room. She looks even more exhausted than before, so you leave her alone and hole yourself up in Jonthan’s room.

You glance at your watch and note the late hour; you’re starting to worry now. Jonathan didn’t mention anything besides Lonnie and the posters, so you don’t know what else he could be doing so late. He wouldn’t go searching for Will without you.

You wake up to Jonathan returning an hour or so later, apparently having fallen asleep while waiting for him.

“Y/N?” His voice is gruff and surprised.

You groan and rub your eyes. “Turn the light off, bee.”

He doesn’t. “What are you doing here?”

The tone of his voice wakes you up a bit, making you sit up and look at him more clearly. His shoulders are tense, his eyes are hiding something, and his overall demeanor is hard to read. “I had something to tell you, but is everything okay?”

“You couldn't have waited until tomorrow? Y/N, this is my house, just… just get out.”

“I’m sorry?” You’re confused by his behavior, now starting to become a bit defensive and hurt by his dismissal.

“You can’t just let yourself in whenever you please.” Jonathan puts his camera on his desk, still refusing to meet your eyes.

“Jonathan, we literally have always let ourselves into each other’s houses whenever we please.”

He rolls his eyes at you and rips off his jacket, throwing it at you. “Get out!”

You catch the jacket before it hits you in the face. “What the hell, Jonathan!”

“Listen, I get that you think you’re a part of the family, but you’re not. You’ve been here for days now, it’s getting old.”

His words cut through you and leave vicious wounds against your skin. He doesn’t mean that, he can’t mean that. You and him were family. He’s never, ever insinuated anything less. He wouldn’t dare. Your Jonathan would never act like this to you, and the only time he’s ever been this cruel to you was when he accidentally dropped Lonnie’s last beer in the fridge and was too embarrassed and ashamed to ask for help; he’d shown up with bruises later that night.

Then it hits you. He did something, something that makes him feel guilty; he keeps glancing at his camera. You soften your voice, “Bee, what did you do?”

He whips around, now yelling. “Nothing! Just get the hell out of my house! It’s getting pathetic!”

You swallow back the angry tears that build in your throat. Fine. Whatever. Let him be a raging bitch after everything you’ve done for him these last few days.

“Fine, I will.” Grabbing your backpack you snatch the assignments you were supposed to give Jonathan and slam them against his chest. “Here’s all your fucking assignments, by the way.”

He seems to come back to himself, blinking away the anger and shame. “Bug…”

“You don’t get to call me that.” And with that, you don’t spare Jonathan another glance.

–

When you get home, the house is eerily quiet. Dustin is at Mike’s and your mom leaves you a note saying that she’s spending the night at your aunt’s. Great. Looks like it’s just you and Mews tonight then.

After everything that’s happened tonight, you never found time to eat dinner, and your stomach is loudly growling. You drop your stuff in your room and then reheat some leftovers, feeling like a pathetic child. You know that Jonathan didn’t mean what he said, but the words had come too easily to him to have just been a way to dodge his guilt. There had been some truth to them. Maybe you were pathetic for always fretting over him.

Dinner is quiet tonight.

You wait for the phone to ring, for Jonathan to call you and apologize, but the call never comes.

You’ve never felt so alone before.

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #the thought of steve just taking will's missing poster and then being like oh shit was so funny to me i had to add it #also sad ending #sorry #but also not

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gimmeurtmi · 1 year

Text

backstage — lee know

pairing: lee minho x fem!reader

tags: established relationship, dom/sub dynamic, mc!lee know, fluff, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, dom!minho, boyfriend!minho, minho shows off reader (in a non-sexual way), dirty talk, thigh riding, unprotected sex, finger sucking, exhibitionism as a fantasy and is talked about a lot, use of "good girl", "whore", "slut", some light degradation, praising, jewellery as consent signals, kink negotiations, lmk if i forgot any!

inspo: i saw too many gifset of lee know on music core. plus @lino-nyangi's posts about exhibitionist!minho

notes: i got carried away. again. let's just from now on always assume i'm gonna get carried away when it comes to minho. thanks. also i wrote this on my laptop so it's actually written normally lmao. this won't be consistent i'm sorry.

{ wc: 8676 }

A few weeks ago Minho promised you he’d take you with him to record MusicCore. You were a fan of the show before Minho joined it, and ever since he secured a job as an MC you begged him week after week to let you come with him.

Today was finally the day the stars aligned, and your schedule allowed you to come with him. Minho was very clear that you could only come if you were there to support him from the morning until he was done, something about how it would be unfair of you to leave him alone in the middle. So when you had some time off, and Minho was preparing to record, he surprised you with a lanyard attached to a card that said Full Access: Guest of Lee Min Ho on it.

You were gonna frame it after today.

So when you got up in the morning, thirty minutes before your alarm, you made sure to spend some extra time styling your hair and perfecting your makeup. It wasn’t like you were going there to impress anyone—but stepping into the studio of MusicCore felt like a fancy event, and you needed to dress accordingly.

Minho grumbled from behind you as he woke up—he only got home at three in the morning after practicing for his stage all night—searching for you next to him.

“Jagiya,” he mumbled, eyes still shut, “where are you?”

“I’m here, my love,” you announced from your chair in front of the vanity.

“C’mhere,” he mumbled, plopping his head back into his three pillows. You quickly followed his orders, crawling back into the bed, making sure not to touch the white pillows before you had a chance to set your foundation.

“What time is it?”

“Eight thirty,” you checked your phone quickly.

“Why did you leave me?” He whined, wrapping his arms around you.

“I couldn’t keep sleeping knowing where we’re going,” you grinned. Minho smiled softly, his eyes still closed.

“You’re excited?” He asked, unwilling to open his eyes just yet, knowing he had ten more minutes to stay in bed still.

“I’m so so excited! It’s gonna be such a good show, show, show!” You recited, causing Minho to chuckle at you.

It was then he opened his eyes finally, rubbing them slightly before he took a moment to look at you.

“Holy shit,” he let out after a few rapid blinks.

“What?”

“You’re gorgeous,” his grip on you tightened, pulling you closer.

“You didn’t know that before?” You asked, feigning offence at his shocked face.

“Of course I knew that,” he nudged his head into your shoulder, “it’s just a bit overwhelming seeing it first thing in the morning.”

“Well, you’re gonna be seeing this gorgeous face all day,” you smirked.

“I’m so lucky,” he concluded before kissing your neck softly. “We’re gonna walk up to every crew member there and make sure they know you’re my girlfriend.”

“Oh, yeah? You wanna show me off today?” You smirked at him.

Innocently, Minho mumbled a small ‘yes’ your way, unaware of the thoughts in your brain. It was too early to bring in such inappropriate thoughts to the conversation, but maybe you couldn’t help but think about that little thing you and Minho agreed upon a few months ago.

Neither of you liked the idea of doing anything inappropriate in public—but sometimes, when Minho talked to you, he’d mention things like that. And sometimes, it got you so horny he could get away with saying a lot of things.

To make sure both of you were comfortable with these kinds of things, you agreed on wearing certain things to let him know how you were feeling. When you wanted him to go hard, it was the red ring he bought you. When you wanted him to only praise you, it was the butterfly earrings you found at the old market place on your third date. And when you wanted him to mention these kind of things, play along to the fantasy that you two were going to do things in front of others, you wore the gold necklace he got you with a small M dangling off it.

Minho also knew you were completely happy with him ignoring those signs as well—as you both needed to want it for it to be enjoyable—so you knew you could wear it today even if he didn’t want to indulge you.

It sat beautifully above your collarbones and honestly, it brought the whole outfit together nicely. You might have to ask Minho to change the sign to a different necklace, as the more you looked at it the more you wanted to wear it every single day.

Minho didn’t comment on it, you weren’t sure he even noticed it, as he stepped out of the shower and started getting ready for his day. The pair of you had a quick breakfast, Minho making sure to kiss your lips when you were done, and then call a car to get you to the studio.

You squealed excitedly at him as you saw the studio coming into view—your previous thoughts from the morning forgotten as they were replaced by butterflies instead.

Minho was a very talented MC, you always told him that, and the reality of getting to see him record was finally starting to set.

“Thank you so much,” you said as your boyfriend laced your fingers together, walking you towards the entrance to the studio.

“Why are you thanking me?” He shrugged at you before smiling at the receptionist and offering her a small bow. You followed suit, watching as Minho signed in on the sheet and made small talk with her.

“Are you her?” She asked timidly, watching as you signed your name on the guest sheet.

You looked at Minho in question, unable to ignore the way his ears turned pink.

“The girlfriend,” she added, pointing at your interlocked hands.

“Oh, yeah,” you smiled, “I’m Y/N.”

The pair of you bowed at each other before she spoke up again, “Lee Know doesn’t stop talking about you. Every week he tells me something else sweet about you.”

“Does he?” You exclaimed, your eyebrows raising as Minho simply refused to look at your questioning gaze.

“You are very pretty,” she complimented. “I hope you two stay very happy.”

“Thank you,” you smiled widely at her. “Have a lovely day.”

“I’m never telling you anything again,” Minho joked at her, before he dragged the pair of you away and deeper into the studio.

“Min?” You questioned once you were alone, “since when do you talk about me?”

“What do you mean?” He said, adjusting his hair slightly to make sure his now red ears weren’t on display.

“No one has ever said something like that to me at JYP,” you point out. It wasn’t that Minho wasn’t affectionate towards you, you were showered with it, but never in front of people. You’ve met a lot of his colleagues and even stayed with him for a week during their world tour, and no one has ever reacted that way towards you before.

“She’s just very nice, is all,” he dismissed.

You nodded, dismissing it as well. You knew your boyfriend very well, and he was a private kind of person. You couldn’t imagine him walking up to reception in the morning and telling her all about you—it just didn’t seem like Minho. He was only that way with a select few people, so you assumed perhaps this colleague of his fell under that category, too.

It was probably nothing.

Minho explained what each room was as you walked past it, that one was Minju’s dressing room and that one was the wardrobe department and that one was the backup dancers room and that was a guest room. Then, after climbing a few stairs, you reached it.

The door had ‘Lee Know’ written across it with a blue star.

“And this is mine,” he smiled, opening the door before gesturing for you to go in first.

As you walked in, your hand fell from his as both your hands came up to hide your gasp.

“What is that?” You asked, referring to the huge vase full of flowers.

“I don’t know,” Minho said, walking up to it. “I didn’t put it here.”

You walked over to it, found a little card hanging off the yellow roses and opened it.

“Dear Y/N,” you read out loud, giving Minho a look. His eyebrows frowned heavily, and you knew that if he wrote it he would’ve just smirked instead. You kept reading. “We are so excited to meet you. We hope you enjoy your first day here. Kindly, Jinho and Mihi.”

“Oh my god,” Minho groaned, sitting down on the couch with a huff.

“Who are they?”

“The makeup artists,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “They stole my moment!”

“What moment?”

“Look behind the flowers,” he was whining, clearly unimpressed by the amount of attention you were getting. How did the makeup artists even know you were coming—and why were they excited to meet you?

You walked behind the flowers, far too big to see anything hidden behind them, and found a box there. You opened it to see inside a bag of your favourite snacks, a polariod camera, and Leebit. A small card sat next to it.

“Dear Y/N,” you read, chuckling out loud. “Thank you for coming today and I hope it’s as beautiful as you imagined it would be. Please cheer loudly for me when you see me on stage and take lots of pictures to remember it! I finally got you the Leebit you wanted, so you’ll blend in nicely with the rest of the Stays. I love you. Min.”

Minho’s face was in his hands, his ears still incredibly red.

“Baby,” you sighed, picking up the bunny plushie and holding him close to your chest. “This is so incredibly sweet.”

“You were supposed to see it later when I was busy and be moved by how amazing your boyfriend is,” he sighed.

“I am moved,” you made sure to tell him, making your way over to where he was sitting.

“The flowers are so much nicer though,” he complained, letting out a loud whine at the end of his sentence.

“The flowers are very nice, but only my amazing and considerate boyfriend could give me something like this.”

You leaned over to kiss his cheek, ignoring the urge to tease him about how warm his face was. “And I finally have my Leebit!”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, playing with the bunny’s tail, “I had to beg the merch team for it. They’re in very high demand.”

“I can imagine,” you chuckled. “Come on,” you urged him to stand up in front of the mirror with you, “we need to debut the polariod camera!”

You quickly unpacked the camera and pointed it at the reflection, telling your boyfriend to come over and join you.

Minho rolled his eyes at you but wasted no time in wrapping an arm around your waist and inching his head closer to you. With a cute smile on both your faces you snapped the picture, a happy dance following your movements as you waited for the photo to print.

“Thank you for this,” you said softly at him, “and thank you for bringing me and everything.”

“Anything for you,” he said sincerely, leaning down and kissing your lips softly. “Would you have enjoyed it more if the flowers were from me?”

You laughed at him, shaking your head as you waited for the picture to develop.

“You know I like your thoughtful gifts more than flowers. Flowers are nice, but you always think hard about what you buy me,” you smiled at him, kissing his cheek softly.

Minho nodded at that, pleased enough with your answer, before he walked over to his table and looked over the script sat there.

“I need to go over this,” he said, guesting at the pages in his hand. Minho warned you before you came that shooting involved a lot of work and he won’t have too much time to spend with you—but you were content with that. You had your phone with you and a book, you could entertain yourself without his help.

“Okay. Can I go find the makeup artists and thank them?”

“Sure,” Minho smiled, “call me if you get lost.”

You nodded at him, kissed his lips one last time, and grabbed your new camera and your plushie with you—ready to explore the halls where they filmed one of your favourite shows.

You remembered enough about Minho’s little tour to navigate without too much nervousness, quickly finding the door that said ‘makeup’ on it.

It was open, the sound of people talking coming from inside and you knocked lightly on the door.

“Hello,” you said politely, bowing to the strangers. “I’m looking for Jinho and Mihi.”

“Yes?” one of the women said, looking at you up and down. After a few moments her eyes settled on your face, taking in your hightlights and lipstick. “Your makeup is fantastic!”

“Thank you,” you smiled, knowing there was no bigger compliment than a professional admiring your work. “I just wanted to say thank you for the flowers and welcoming me today.”

Once you said those words, the woman looked at the bunny in your hand, and you could almost see the penny dropping in her mind.

“You’re Y/N!” You nodded. “Oh!”

The pair of them hugged you, smiling widely as they each introduced themselves to you.

“We’ve heard so much about you!” They chuckled, “every time Lee Know sits in that chair he does not stop talking about you. He’s either talking about that or we’re exchanging recipes.”

You laughed, imaging your boyfriend trying to explain his latest food experiement to the women in front of you.

However, you couldn’t just breeze past the fact he was sharing things with them, too. You knew his makeup artist in JYP was very close to him, too, as it was more than awkward to just sit in front of someone for twenty minutes without saying a thing—but she never said anything like that to you. Your nail tech knew all about Minho, but you were known for sharing things with people with ease. Minho was not.

“May I ask,” you dared, “what kind of things does he say?”

“Oh, nothing bad of course,” they thought to reassure you, “Lee Know is very protective of you it seems. He cares about you a lot.”

You smiled, “yeah, I care about him, too.”

The pair awwed in unison. “They’re too sweet!”

“It’s just… Minho doesn’t really talk about these things with a lot of people.”

They laughed at you, their eyebrows knitted together. “What do you mean?”

“Lee Know always brainstorms date ideas with us, and tells us about how well you’re doing at work! Congratulations on that promotion last month!”

You thanked them, a blush warm on your cheeks. “Really?”

“Oh, dear, I hope you don’t mind that he told us?” Jinho said, looking at her friend with slight concern on her forehead.

“Oh, no! Of course not!” You reassured. “It’s not that. It’s just, surprising, is all.”

They nodded at you. “He’s probably just more comfortable sharing romantic stories with us.”

They did have a point. You were sure it was much easier sharing stories with the makeup artists than with his crew members.

You thanked them one more time before suggesting to take a picture with them—using the camera your boyfriend bought you, and excused yourself.

You walked down the hallway trying to see if there was anything else to explore. You knew the canteen was on the opposite side of Minho’s room, so you slowly made your way there—making sure to take in as many details as possible.

You watched many behind the scenes features about the show and walking down the hallway you saw in them was like something out of a movie—stepping into a place you felt you already knew by heart. It was just the start of the day, there was so much more excitement to feel, but already you were overwhelmed by it.

You thought maybe grabbing a snack and a drink would make you feel better.

Once you arrived at the canteen you saw a few people sat around with coffees, some were reading over scripts, some were listening to music.

You ordered an iced drink and a pastry, paying for your order and smiling polietly and the man who worked at the canteen. His smile was very bright.

Everyone was so friendly, you noted, and even texted your friend as such when they asked how it was going so far.

Everyone in your circle knew how excited you were for today—so they all checked in to see you were still alive and didn’t die from happiness overload.

You sat down at the end of a very big table, not many other seats available, and started scrolling down your social media to occupy yourself.

“Can we sit here?” Someone asked.

You looked up to see a group of four boys with their meals. There wasn’t anywhere else for them to sit, and either way you didn’t mind. You nodded at them with a small smile.

Becoming very aware of the looks they were giving your bunny, you grabbed him and concealed him in your lap instead. You knew you looked like a fangirl carrying him around—and you didn’t mind in the slightest—but you didn’t want these strangers to ask you questions. You didn’t know who they were, and they clearly recognised what the plushie was meant to represent, and you could already see the horror scenario of you getting kicked out of the studio for being mistaken as a fan that sneaked their way in. You subconsciously checked your pass was still in your pocket.

The boys were, however, too immersed in their own conversation to even look your way.

That was until one of the boys got up and asked the group if they wanted anything, and then, he asked you the same thing.

“Oh, thank you. I’m fine,” you smiled, pointing at your still mostly full drink. He nodded.

“I think Tae-hyung was trying to flirt with you,” his friend helpfully supplied.

You chuckled at the angry look on his friend’s face before he walked away to get everyone’s orders.

“That’s no way to flirt with someone,” you joked back, trying to lighten up the awkwardness you were feeling. “That’s just being friendly.”

“And how do you flirt with someone?” The boy challenged with a smirk.

You laughed at him—he was doing good—but you couldn’t let him get his hopes up.

“I’d show you, but I’m taken,” your hand went down to your lap where Leebit was sitting safely, and you held onto him tightly.

At that the fourth boy, Tae, came back with the drinks, joining the conversation.

“Hear that, hyung? She’s taken,” one of the boys announced. He sighed dramatically, shaking his head at the news.

You chuckled at his dramatic reaction, enjoying the new relaxed atmosphere around the table.

Then the boys introduced themselves, informing you they danced on the show weekly.

“I’m actually a massive fan of the show, I thought I recognised your faces,” you said with a smile, knowing you saw the oldest boy in the group before.

“Really? Who’s your favourite MC then?” One of the boys teased, nudging his head in the direction of your lap—where they all knew the bunny was hiding.

“Is it obvious?” You joked, showing them your plushie, and then tapping your phone where a picture of Minho sat proudly. It was one of him on the show, holding his microphone with his name covered in glitter adoring it.

“I’m sorry to break it to you, but he’s also taken,” one of the dancers said. “And he’s whipped.”

“What?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“We probably shouldn’t say this, but every time we’re practising with him he has to stop around the same time to send his girlfriend a text. And he’ll talk about her a lot, too. So even if you were to ditch your partner for Lee Know—he would never leave his girlfriend.”

“I’ve never seen anyone that in love before,” one of them added, “she’s all he talks about.”

Your stomach crunched at their words. Who was this person everyone was talking about and since when did your boyfriend share so much about your relationship?

“What, uh, what does he say about her?”

“Are you one of the jealous fans?” The dancer made sure to ask. You quickly shook your head, making sure to let them know you were happy for him, and just curious to know more.

“Well, he talks a lot about what they do together. And how he wants to adopt a cat with her because she’ll be great at raising them.”

“Oh my god,” Tae chuckled, “remember when we were practising for his first stage and every time he got tired he looked at her picture?”

They laughed.

“He kept saying she’s better than caffeine.”

You slowly pressed a hand to your cheek trying to check just how warm your skin was. It was on fire. Your stomach was, too.

“That’s sweet,” you concluded, “I’m glad my idol is so happy.”

You knew you had to play the part now, as it would be far too awkward to let them know who you were now. So you just smiled instead.

“Well, I hope you get to enjoy the show today,” they said after you all finished your food. “We need to get going before we miss our schedule.”

“Of course,” you nodded, “good luck!”

So, the receptionist and the makeup artists were one thing. The dancers were a totally different thing. Since when was Minho like this? You thought you knew your boyfriend well, you thought he was only open about these things with his members and with his family, you didn’t think he just told everyone about you.

The staff at JYP definitely didn’t see you like any of the people around here did—and you couldn’t help but wonder why they knew so much about you.

You didn’t mind, of course, Minho was free to share what he wanted with who he wanted, but this was unexpected. You weren’t quite sure how to react to it all.

You pushed those thoughts to the side, instead asking your boyfriend if he wanted anything to eat and when he said no you made your way back to his dressing room.

You waited patiently as Minho read over his script a few more times, practising out loud in front of the mirror to monitor his facial expressions and his tone of voice.

Soon, a PA walked in and talked Minho over his schedule. First, he needed to go get his outfit on.

You followed him around, his hand never leaving yours, and sat quietly by him as they made sure the outfit sat comfortably around his body.

“You look really good,” you mumbled at him as the pair of you made your way to the makeup room.

He kissed the back of your hand in response.

Jinho and Mihi smiled at you as they saw your hands locked together, inviting Minho to sit down in one of the chairs.

The four of you talked about your day, how you were finding it around the studio, and if you met any interesting people yet.

“Oh, I met one of my favourite dancers on the show! I didn’t know his name until now but I recognised him as the dancer I focus on most of the time,” you answered politely.

Minho looked at you so fast you were worried his neck might snap.

“Your favourite what?” He gasped at you.

“His name is Tae, he said,” you answered.

“Tae?!” Minho nearly yelled. His face was forced back into its previous position by Jinho as she tried setting his foundation.

He didn’t seem as angry with a powder brush tapping around his face. But you knew you made the wrong move when he gave you the same look he did to his members when they made a mistake in the choreography. Only this time his jealous scowl was attached to it, too.

“Obviously, you’re my favourite dancer. But on the show you don’t dance a lot so he’s my favourite.”

Minho scoffed at that, causing both the artists to laugh at the interaction before they changed the subject to your work instead. You told them a bit about it, enjoying how attentive they were to your words and experiences.

When Minju entered the room to get herself ready, she gasped as she saw you.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” She bowed, and you followed her as you gave you that same sentiment back. The pair of you chatted away easily, excitement bubbling inside your stomach as you managed to speak so freely in front of her. You were a big fan of hers as well, having been part of the show for a while, and Minho even agreed to take a picture of the two of you together before Mihi insisted she needed to start working on the MC soon.

It was time for Minho to walk towards the soundstage, now that he was fully ready, and the pair of you made your way down there—hand never leaving his.

“You know, Tae also tried to flirt with me,” you decided to say, just to see your boyfriend’s reaction.

“Did he?” He let out, clenching his jaw visibly.

“Yeah, but then instead he told me all about how I’m like your caffeine.”

At that, Minho’s face changed from jealousy to pure embarrassment, and he was lucky it was then you reached the sound stage.

You forgot completely what you two were talking about as you saw the stage spread before you—you even jumped up and down twice.

“Min, this is so cool!” You exclaimed, “this is so fucking cool!”

Minho smiled at that, his eyes crinkling at your reaction. “Was it worth the wait?”

“This is so cool!” Is all you could say.

Minho wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pointing at different cameras and monitors and explaining what they were used for and when. You nodded at his words, listening carefully to everything he was saying.

Then it was time for him to start rehearsing, so you blew a kiss his way (as to not mess up his makeup) and clapped your hands in excitement. You had your camera at the ready too, snapping a few pictures of the set as you waited by the screens.

Jinho, who was monitoring the makeup on the screen, stood by you—helping you feel more at ease as the crew around the set watched as the three MCs rehearsed their lines.

After they rehearsed, and the dancers filmed one of their stages, it was time for a short break before the live stages were set to start. Minho got his makeup looked over before the pair of you were sent on your way back to his room.

You held onto his arm, your hand circling around his bicep as your other interlocked with his fingers. You kissed his shoulder lightly as you made your way down the hallway.

You passed the deep pink wall—the background of many pictures of your favourite idols—and so you stopped in your tracks.

“Min,” you started, but you didn’t even need to explain what you wanted before Minho grabbed the camera from your hand and gestured for you to stand against the pink backdrop.

After grabbing the small picture that printed out, Minho took out his phone and stood beside you—taking a selfie or four with you against the wall.

“Happy?” He asked as he handed you the now developed polariod. You nodded your head excitedly.

Minho chuckled at you, bringing a hand around your shoulder as he guided the pair of you back on your way towards his room.

Once you climbed up the stairs you reached your destination, sitting down on the couch by your boyfriend.

“So what’s happening now?” You asked, crossing your legs underneath your body.

“We have a few hours until we start. I usually just relax a bit before the crowd gets here and we do everything again but live.”

You nodded. “This is so cool.”

“You have mentioned,” Minho chuckled at you. He brought his hand to your hair, tucking a bit of it behind your ear.

“Can I ask you something?” Minho hummed in affirmation. “How come you share so much with the people who work here?”

“I don’t tell them anything private,” he promised you, “it’s just.. more relaxed around here. It’s hard talking about you with anyone who works at the company.”

“I don’t mind either way,” you assured him, “I just wasn’t expecting everybody to know me and tell me how much you love me.”

“Who told you that?” He questioned, his eyes averting to the plushie between your legs, avoiding your eyes again.

“Min, I think at this point I kinda know all that already,” you chuckled, amused by the way he was perfectly comfortable telling you he loved you, but suddnely now he was embaressed.

“I can be different here, I think,” he mused, “here I can be fun Lee Know who’s not cold and hard and if I said some of these things about you in the company they’ll think I’m being weird and--”

“—you’re not cold, Min,” you stopped him. He nodded. “But it’s nice being here,” you agreed, “everyone’s treating me like I’m famous or something.”

Minho grinned at you.

“So you’re enjoying yourself?”

“Yes,” you nodded, your smile reaching your eyes. “Thank you again.”

“What’s been your favourite part so far?” He asked, reaching for your hand and rubbing his thumb over the back of it.

“Well, I found the wall,” you said, reaching in to your pocket and grabbing all the polariods you took during the day, showing them off one by one to your boyfriend. “And I took pictures of the big stage! And I met Minju,” you smiled at the photo, “and of course my favourite part,” you found the picture you took of the monitor when it was focused on your boyfriend, “watching MC Lee Know in action.”

Minho laughed at that. You rarely called him by his stage name, and watching you get so excited about his side gig warmed his heart in ways he couldn’t quite explain.

He leaned forward, capturing your lips in a small kiss.

You ignored it all day—the thoughts probing inside your brain—but now that you were alone and kissing him, you couldn’t quite suppress it anymore.

The way he looked on stage, so happy and oh so stunning. His stage presence was always strong, always impossible to ignore, but on the stage you loved so much it was overwhelming you. The way he told just about everyone here how much he cared about you. The way he looked so confident in everything he did today. Even, the jealousy in his eyes when you dared call someone else your favourite dancer.

You were craving him.

So before Minho pulled away, you snaked your hands around his neck and pulled him closer. He moved his lips against yours softly, so softly you felt a lightness at the back of your eyes—as if the kiss was so strong it was dulling your other senses.

“Baby,” you whispered against his lips, tugging lightly on his hair.

“Yeah?” He asked, trying to pull away from your lips. In response, you climbed onto his lap and grabbed his jaw—pulling him even closer.

Minho responded instantly, sliding his tongue against your lips. You opened your mouth, your tongue finding his with familiar ease.

You could taste the makeup on his face, and you knew he could taste yours—but you didn’t care. All you could focus on was the feeling of his thighs underneath you, his hands around your hips, his lips on yours.

When you brought your hand to his chest, fingers reaching into his shirt, he finally pulled away.

His lips were swollen, he had lipstick around his cupid’s bow, and his eyes were glazed. It made you groan.

“What’s gotten into you?” He asked in a whisper.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, “you said we have some time to relax.”

You lean in closer, kissing underneath his jaw.

“Yeah, but we’re not alone,” he reminded you.

“We’re in your dressing room,” you countered, “we can lock the door.”

“Y/N, don’t forget yourself,” he warned you, “anyone can walk in here and need something.”

“They’ll knock,” you tried, rolling your hips against him. You could feel he was hard underneath you, you knew he wanted this, but Minho was very specific that when you two were outside of the house he wouldn’t do anything beyond kissing you. Even making out in a locked dressing room seemed like something very daring between the pair of you.

“What’s gotten into you?” He asked again with a chuckle.

“Seeing you on stage, Min,” you explained simply, bringing your hand down to the space where your bodies rested against each other.

“Calm down,” he said, grabbing your wrists and pulling your hands away, “you’ve seen me performing so many times before.”

“This is different,” you explained, rolling your hips again. Minho grunted at the contact, his grip on your wrist tightening.

“Regardless of that,” he started, tugging you away from him by your wrists when you tried to kiss him again, “we’re in public.”

“You could fuck me in front of that mirror though,” you said simply, looking at your reflection for a moment. Minho followed your line of sight, grinning at you through the mirror.

“Who are you and what have you done with my shy little girlfriend?” He asked, bringing his hand to your chin, forcing you to face him again.

He looked at your face, his eyes darkening slightly as he rubbed the lipstick stains away from your skin. His finger traced your jaw, your heart beat quickening at his actions, before his finger trailed down to your neck, your collarbone, and then rested on the M sat against your skin.

“Oh,” he let out in realisation. “When did you put this on?”

“In the morning,” you explained, swallowing slightly when you saw his expression change completely. “After you said you were gonna show me off to everyone.”

Minho cocked his head to the side, an impossibly attractive smirk on his still swollen lips.

“And then you saw I wasn’t kidding…” he filled in the blanks, his eyes still glued to the jewellery. “And now you’re horny.”

“I’m not the only one,” you argued, rolling your hips again. Minho grabbed you, stopping your movements completely.

“Yeah, but the difference is I have some self control,” he raised his eyebrows.

“Please, Min, you said yourself we have a few hours,” you whined lightly. “I’ll lock the door.”

“But if my baby’s in such a mood, surely I should open the door and ask everyone to come look at you.”

“Min,” you whined, trying to move in his grip. It was bad enough he wasn’t going to give you anything—it was straight up cruel for him to wind you up as well.

“Everyone’s heard a lot about you,” he kissed your jaw, “maybe today we should show them the parts I didn’t tell them?”

You groaned as he planted more kisses around your neck.

“Like how much of a slut my girl is,” he squeezed your hips.

“No,” you said, shaking your head, “not a slut.”

Minho looked up at you. You usually liked that name, telling him yourself it turned you on, so his eyebrows lifted up as he questioned you.

“Then what are you?” He asked softly.

“Your whore,” you corrected him, swallowing as you spoke.

You would’ve been embarrassed by the shock on Minho’s face—but it melted into a smirk just as quickly as he gasped.

“I see,” he nodded, his hands travelling down to your ass, “so you’re really in a mood.”

“Yes,” you confirmed.

“You can’t wait to get home?”

“No, I want you now,” you groaned. Minho grabbed your ass, hard, causing you to pulse around nothing.

“Get up,” he said, pushing you off his lap. You tried your best to hide your disappointment but stood up anyway. Before you could apologise for taking it too far—Minho walked to the door and locked it.

When he turned around you had to bite the smile on your face.

He walked over to you, kissing your forehead softly before he turned you around and wrapped his hands around your stomach. He walked the pair of you over to the mirror, kissing down your neck as he positioned you right in front of it.

“Like this? You want me to fuck you like this?” He asked, rubbing his crotch against your ass.

“Yeah,” you sighed, still in disbelief that Minho actually gave in to your request. He was a private person, but you guessed today you learned to see a different side of Minho from the moment you entered the studio.

“You’re gonna look at yourself while I push my dick inside you?”

“Yes,” you moaned, feeling him against your ass.

Minho started sucking on the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him with the hand still around your stomach. His other hand travelled up and down your sides—ghosting over your chest but never quite touching you there.

“And if I wanna take you like this?” He asked, spinning you around to face him. He pushed his crotch against yours, his erection teasing you against your jeans.

“Take me however you want, Min,” you moaned, rubbing yourself against him.

“You’re so fucking horny,” he chuckled dryly, wrapping his finger around the thin gold chain. “What got you this horny?”

“You,” you whispered.

“Don’t think I heard you,” Minho challenged. The rooms were all quite close together, and you knew if you said anything too loudly the people in the next room would hear you.

Minho was daring you.

“You got me this horny,” you said louder, swallowing loudly as warmth crept up your neck.

“You can’t do this,” he taunted, “you’re thinking with your pussy but we both know if I told you to moan loudly for me you wouldn’t. So why are you asking me to fuck you?”

“I’ll be quiet--”

“—but if I tell you to do something you need to do it,” Minho reminded you, “and do you really think you can take my punishment when you don’t moan loud enough for me?”

“I’ll do whatever you ask,” you nodded, jumping onto the counter you were pressed against and opening your legs wide.

Minho’s hand instantly grabbed your thighs and kneeded at your skin.

“That’s not my girl talking,” he said, kissing your cheek, “that’s your wet pussy talking for you.”

“Please,” you groaned, rolling your hips against the counter to feel something.

Minho looked down at your crotch, chuckling when he saw just how desperate you were in front of him.

“Or maybe you don’t even need me?” He questioned, grabbing the top of your thighs and rolling you against the counter again. “Is this enough for you?”

“No,” you begged, “I need more.”

“I’m not going to do anything,” he informed you, “we’re still in a very busy building and you can’t possibly be quiet.”

“You just asked me to be loud,” you groaned.

“I know,” Minho said, kissing you softly, “just wanted to see how far you’re willing to go for your boyfriend’s dick.”

At that, Minho walked away from you and picked up his script. He sat himself down on the couch, reading over his lines one more time in prepration.

“Minho,” you tried, but he simply shook his head at you.

“Not happening,” he dismissed.

“Minho,” you tried again, desperate for his attention. He kept his eyes solely on the pages in front of him.

“Calm down,” he advised.

“I’ll be quiet,” you tried.

“You know I’m gonna take that as a challenge,” he chuckled, “you being quiet means I’m not doing well.”

“Then I’ll be loud,” you offered.

At that, Minho looked up from his script over at you, his eyes dark as he leaned his head back. He looked at you for a few moments.

“What’s this about?” He questioned.

“I’m horny,” you said simply, shrugging your shoulders as you fiddled with your necklace.

“What’s it really about?” He offered you a second chance.

You jumped off the counter, walking over to him. You grabbed the script out of his hands, placed it on the couch beside him and climbed into his lap. You could tell Minho was holding himself back from placing his hands on you—instead they sat by his side.

“I’m proud of you, and you look stunning today, and I want everyone who already knows so much about me to hear how pretty I can moan for you.”

Minho licked his lips.

“I love being the person who gets fucked by Lee Know,” you added with a smirk, running your hands up and down his chest, until your reached his crotch.

Minho brought his hands to your hips, moving you against his thighs in an agonisingly slow rhythm.

“Maybe we should wait,” he offered, a raise in his brows, “we can go to the stage and I can fuck you in front of the cameras?”

“Fuck,” you let out, pushing against his thighs harder as you jolted from the friction.

“Is that what you want?”

You nodded quickly.

Minho grabbed your phone from beside him, checking the time. He smiled slightly at the new picture you set on your lockscreen—of him during his first time on the show.

He leaned up, grabbing your cheek as he brought your lips together.

“Tell me, whore,” he pulled away slightly, dragging you along his thigh faster, “when all those cameras are on you—are you gonna beg for my fingers or my cock?”

“Your cock,” you moaned, grabbing onto his shoulders.

“So everyone can see how you fall apart when my dick splits you in half?”

“Yes, Min, fuck,” you said, a rush running up and down your spine.

He leaned in, kissing you messily as you focused on riding against his thigh steadily.

“You better not make a fucking sound,” he warned against your lips, bringing a hand to his pants as he unbuttoned them. He pushed them down slightly, only enough to grab his dick out. He then unbuttoned your jeans, letting you manoeuvre for long enough to pull them down your legs.

“If I hear any sound outside we’re stopping,” he said firmly. You nodded.

Minho leaned up to kiss you softly, rubbing your shoulder. “You sure you’re okay with this?”

“Are you?”

“I’ll give you anything you want,” he smiled softly, “you just never wanted this before.”

“We’re alone, Min,” you assured him. “And I’ll tell you if I want to stop.”

He nodded before the pair of resumed your previous position, Minho nodding at you as you started sinking down on his dick.

“Fuck,” he let out, gasping softly as his head fell against the back of the couch. “Move when you’re ready.”

You nodded, moving up and down slowly as the pair of you groaned softly. Minho wrapped his arms around you, his fingers grazing against your bare thighs in comfort.

“Take your time,” he said sweetly. He kissed your cheek before he whispered down your ear, “the longer you take, the more likely someone is to come in here.”

You clenched around him.

“Maybe Tae will come to get me,” he kept going, smiling at the reaction he was getting—the wetness around his dick warm and so comforting, “he usually needs help with his dancing.”

“Really?” You chuckled, squeezing his shoulders as you upped your pace.

“Yeah, because I’m a better dancer than him,” Minho made sure to say, sighing as you clenched around him again.

“You think you fuck better than him, too?” You dared.

At that, Minho thrust up into you—causing you to swallow a moan before it escaped you.

“The only reason I’d let him watch you get fucked is so he can learn how to do it. And when I’m done with you he can try to make you cum,” he said through his teeth.

“Don’t think anyone can make me cum the way you do,” you said in between breaths.

“Right answer, whore,” he said, groaning as you clenched around him harder than before. “Fuck, stop that or I’ll be the one who’s too loud.”

At that you laughed, leaning up on your knees until only his tip was inside you—and then you sat all the way down, his dick reaching into the deeper parts of you.

Minho’s eyes fluttered shut as you repeated that action again and again and again, rendering Minho unable to move or even open his eyes.

“Where’d you go?” You asked, tapping his chin.

He grabbed your thighs, urging you to do it again.

“I’m trying to focus,” he let out, “you feel really fucking good.”

“I look good, too,” you smirked, “you’re missing out.”

Minho opened his eyes, blinking rapidly as he took in your features. You weren’t wrong. You looked amazing on top of him, controlling the pace, getting exactly what you wanted from him like you always did.

“It would be much better in front of the cameras,” he let out softly, “so they could capture how fucking beautiful you are riding my cock.”

You groaned.

“Quiet,” he warned you, burying his hand in your hair.

He pulled your face closer to his, kissing you messily, all tongue and gasps and teeth.

“Even if someone did knock right now I couldn’t stop,” you said quickly, “your dick is too fucking good.”

“It’s always yours,” he groaned, pushing you all the way down until he bottomed out. You rolled your hips, the pair of you gasping as he nudged your senstive spot again and again.

“I should take a picture of your pussy like this,” Minho said, tracing his hand around your clit teasingly. “So so full.”

You handed him the polariod camera instantly before you leaned back, bumping your hips up and down his dick.

Minho took the camera from you, unsure of what you wanted him to do with it. Nudes were not your thing, and although you were wearing that necklace today he didn’t think that meant he could just take a picture of you. Those were just words. But then, you did just hand it to him.

Before he could think about it too much you started moaning, finding the perfect angle as you sped up. Minho leaned forward, bringing a hand around your mouth to muffle your sounds.

“I said quiet, whore,” he said, kissing your neck as he felt your moans vibrating against his hand.

“Min,” you said, muffled, causing him to move his hand away.

“Yeah, baby?” He asked softly, grabbing your hand instead.

You leaned forward, hiding your head in his neck as you spoke. “Don’t like it when you cover my mouth.”

Minho nodded, squeezing your hand in agreement. “Can I put my fingers in your mouth instead then?”

You smiled at him, lifting your head from his neck and sticking your tongue out to him.

“Good girl,” he chuckled, bringing his index finger to your tongue. “And you’ve been so good today telling me exactly what you need.”

You started clenching at his praise, humming against his finger as he started meeting your thrusts from below. “You’ve been so so good with your words. And using our signals. I’m so proud of you, baby.”

You nodded, silently speeding up even more as you focused on sucking his fingers.

“Your pussy is so good, I’m gonna cum soon,” he warned with a grunt. At that he slid his fingers out of your mouth, moving them to your clit as he started rubbing it in fast circles.

You focused as much as you could on being quiet—letting your head fall on Minho’s shoulders as you felt him twitching inside you.

“Gonna cum,” you warned in a hushed whisper.

It was only a few moments later that your orgasm crashed into you—your mouth a perfect circle as you rode out your high in silence. As your walls clenched around him repeatedly, Minho came right after you, whimpering in between soft sighs.

You caught your breathes together, staying close as Minho planted small kisses on your shoulder. When you were ready to move, Minho rolled his pants further down his legs to avoid any mess on his outfit, and helped you stand up slowly.

You were lucky there was a shower in his room—and cleaned yourself off quickly. Once you were both dressed again, you sat down next to your boyfriend with a smile.

“Feel better now?” He asked with a smile, kissing your cheek.

Both of your faces were ruined, and you knew Minho would have to sit down to get his makeup redone. You had no idea how you’d get yours fixed without making it very very obvious why it got ruined in the first place.

Luckily, you remembered you packed some of your makeup with you this morning, and took it out in an attempt to fix both your faces.

Minho’s wasn’t too smudged, except for the colour around his mouth, but you managed to put enough translucent powder around it to make it presentable. The makeup artists could fix it for him.

Your mascara was gathered underneath your eyes, and Minho took a wipe from your makeup bag and cleaned it off softly.

“Thank you,” you said to him, taking a look at yourself in the mirror after he was done.

He nodded at you.

“You’re very quiet,” you observed, noticing the way Minho didn’t ask questions or say much like he usually did after sex.

Minho reached for your hand, locking your fingers together again. “Did you really want me to take a picture of you or was that just talk like most of it was?”

You pursed your lips together. “I’m—I’m not actually sure,” you admitted.

“I don’t want to take pictures of you,” Minho confessed. “I don’t want it getting into the wrong hand or for you to regret me having something like that.”

“That’s okay,” you agreed, nodding with a smile.

“I want to do everything you ask me to, but I couldn’t bring myself to take the picture and I’m sorry if that disappointed you or anything--”

“—Min, it didn’t. It was in the heat of the moment. Besides, your reason for not doing it is just to protect me, so it’s definitely okay.”

Minho nodded at that.

“And please never feel like you have to give me something just because I asked. You always say you can’t enjoy it if I’m not happy and that goes both ways,” you assured him.

Minho leaned forward to kiss you softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Lee Know,” you smirked.

He chuckled at you before burying his head in your hair as he hugged you tightly.

At that a thirty minute warning came on around the speakers, alerting everyone in the building to the time.

It was then time for Minho to go back to the makeup chair for any touch ups (which he definitely needed) and warm up his voice before the live stage started. You followed him around, clutching Leebit tightly as you smiled proudly at your boyfriend.

You cheered loudly like he asked you too—and at some point, you caught his eyes on you as the pair of you smiled at each other.

The crowd didn’t know you were his girlfriend, it was private, and the pair of you smiled at each other as you held onto that secret tightly.

#skz x reader #skz x y/n #skz x yn #stray kids fics #stray kids x reader #lee know x y/n #lee know x reader #lee know smut #lee know #lee minho smut #lee minho x y/n #lee minho x reader #minho x y/n #minho x reader #minho smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #all.works

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mvshortcut · 10 months

Text

15 questions, 15 mutuals.

Tagged by @trentcrimminallybeautiful thank you gert my beloved <3

Are you named after anyone? - Yes, but I don't really feel a connection to my birth name much, so I'd rather talk about my online chosen names! For the name Fallon, I just picked it because I liked the vibes honestly and also after an oc I made when I was really little. And as for the beloved name bestowed unto me, Milk. I made a typo introducing myself ("Gallon") and it stuck 😔<3

When was the last time you cried? - hm, probably a couple weeks ago? I cry when I get hungry lmao

Do you have kids? - This bear flowerpot thingy is my beloved son:

But as for human children, no.

Do you use sarcasm a lot?- unsure if absurd threats of eating furniture in response to Cool Art/Fic count as sarcasm, but if so, yes

What's the first you notice about people? - if they have a Funky Outfit on I'll probably notice that first (and then get too intimidated to talk to them because they're CoolTM)

What's your eye colour? - brown

Scary movies or happy endings? - happy ending sorry I'm a coward

Any special talents? - I play violin, and I'm particularly adept at making typos

Where were you born? - hospital

What are your hobbies? - writing, reading, rug-hooking, cooking/baking, going on walks in nature

Have you got any pets? - yes, this is my beloved fool of a dog Clyde:

What sports do you play/have you played? - none on a team, but I like playing tennis and roller skating

How tall are you? - 5'5" I think?

Favourite subject in school? - used to be English lit, but I'm a sociology/gender studies major now. but I also love Italian despite not being very good at it!

Dream job? - currently looking to go into academia! (scary!) but if I could have any job in the world, it might have to do with marine bio/conservation, or cooking, or writing, or an archivist of some sort, or a forensic entomologist, or someone who Sorts things all day, or-

Tagging (no pressure of course!) : @shiningsagittarius @never-wake-up @personinthepalace @xkurtwagner @hangrybluewhale @ae-jurumi @middle-class-trash @deeskip @acollectionofcuriousreblogs @papermillll @amysterywrappedinanenigma @nobody33333333 @sophieswundergarten @itsgoghtime @kneeslapworthy @oflightningandstars @rebecca-mbs-fan @phtalogreenpoison @crow-in-springtime @heyitsthatonesmolgay @lemondropletters

ok listen I know it said 15 but I got carried away-

that being said I definitely am forgetting people - if you see this, this is your open invitation to join (and I do mean that!)

#ask game #this was fun thank you gert <3 #long post

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sehodreams · 4 months

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riize MTL to make you get on the phone with your boyfriend while they're plowing into your uterus and making your vision blackout with stars

TW and tags: cheating, fingering, p in v, drunk sex, toxic!ex!Seunghan, toxic!Eunseok, idk what else.

Sorry I got a little carried away with Eunseok and Seunghan haha I love Eunseok too much, I hope you like it anon!

Also, I'll be honest, this is not a MTL of who would do it, this is a MTL of who would be the most evil while doing it, and sorry for not writing for all of them, I just couldn't imagine the others idk why.

Most

Eunseok

Seunghan

Wonbin

Anton

Least

Eunseok

He doesn't want to be your boyfriend, but he doesn't like sharing you neither. You've been with your boyfriend for months already, but you had met Eunseok before you started your relationship, being just fuck buddies, and since he told you he didn't like relationships, you accepted to date the new boy, who was sweet and kind, while Eunseok ghosted you whenever he wanted, making you exhausted of his game.

So, if he was the one leaving, why would he always bother you coming back? He did the same thing once every two or three weeks, and you hated yourself because every time you felt he was about to come and see you, instead of getting angry, your pussy would get wet, the memory of him pounding your insides enough to get you like that, and that night was no different.

Your boyfriend had gone to a work trip, talking to you every night at the same hour to tell you about his day. You watched the clock, Eunseok was between your legs, drinking you like the beer he had before knocking your door, and when you were about to cum you remembered the phone call that would sound in less than 10 minutes, I can't, you told yourself, not because you felt bad cheating on your boyfriend, but because you knew Eunseok would fuck you for a lot longer and you wouldn't be able to talk.

Your phone lighted, showing your boyfriend's name in the screen, and you wanted to hide it, but Eunseok was faster and grabbed your phone before you could, accepting the call.

"Hi babe" your boyfriend said, and Eunseok, instead of leaving you alone to talk with him, inserted two of his fingers in your pussy, making it squelch, a sound you wished no one could hear through the phone.

"Hi" you answered how you could, then biting your lip to not let the noises come out of your mouth.

"You have no idea what happened today" he started to tell you everything, how his team almost messed up, how he fixed the problem, expecting you to tell him how proud you were, but you couldn't talk, your eyes were rolling and your lip was almost bleeding from the force you were using to not let a single cry come out of you while Eunseok played with you, showing you the cheekiest smile you had ever seen, making you horny and angry at the same time.

You tried to tell him to stop, pushing his hand away and shaking your head. He said an I don't want to silently, increasing the speed of his fingers inside you, and when you were shaking, almost cumming, he pulled them away.

You denied, how could he do that? When you were so close? The voice of your boyfriend kept talking in the background and Eunseok got closer to your ear, moving both your hands over your head and maintaining them with one of his, "babe, such a lame way to call you, doesn't he know you prefer being called slut?" Your pussy got tighter around nothing when he talked, and you tried to say no, but you couldn't form a single sentence, "if you're someone else's babe, I shouldn't fuck you, don't you think so?" You cried, head back to the pillow, tears blurring your vision, "or what are you?" He asked, slapping your pussy with his dick, the sound undoubtedly heard by your boyfriend. You shouldn't answer, you told yourself, he would heard you, but did you care enough? What was more important, to mantain your relationship or to get pounded by Eunseok? Such an easy choice "I'm your slut" you said, and he, smiling proud of you, pushed his dick into your cunt, which welcomed it with such a satisfaction it clenched around it immediately, feeling so good that you, happy to finally be fucked like you should, couldn't contain your moans anymore.

Seunghan

He was the best boyfriend anyone could have, so he always asked you, why did you decide to break up with him? He just couldn't understand what you said, that he flirted too much? He was just friendly. He never answered your calls if he went out partying? He couldn't hear it with the loud music. He fucked your best friend? He was just drunk and thought it was you.

Everything he did had an explanation, including the fact that, even when you broke up months ago and you had moved on with a new boyfriend, he had to see you every weekend to help you get off, it wasn't his fault that you decided to start a relationship with a guy that couldn't fuck you like he did.

It was the typical friday night and he was already in your room when you arrived from your date, "did he fuck you?" He asked when you closed your door. "Yeah, why?" You answered, making him smile and poke his cheek with his tongue, laughing at you, "well, you don't see happy enough" he replied. You denied with your head, tired of his shit, "Shut up and do your job".

He laughed loudly and pulled down the waistband of his joggers and his underwear, his hard cock bouncing as a result. You didn't waste a second and walked to him, kissing with need and moaning into his mouth.

Something you had to admit, and hated, it was that Seunghan was the best fuck you've ever had, not finding anyone good enough to make you feel like he did.

Maybe it had to do with the fact that he was so shameless, he didn't hesitate to go down on you, eating your cunt until you cried and pulled his hair, moaning into it when you hurt him, he also fucked you really good, he knew how to move, when to stop and when to rut into your hole, not being afraid of shoving his thumb on your ass.

Still, it was exactly that shameless side of him what made your actual dynamic possible, he didn't mind that you fucked other guys, because he knew you would always go back to him at the end, and he loved the way he didn't have to prepare you before he slided inside you, you dripping with the thought of him using you after the boy you were currently seeing.

And you couldn't deny it, you had no sense of shame neither, because when Seunghan pulled out your phone and scrolled through it, you'd continue moaning, perfectly knowing who was on the other side of the line.

Wonbin

When you needed to feel loved, you would call your boyfriend, when you needed some extra cash, you'd call your boyfriend, and when you needed to get fucked, you'd call Wonbin.

He liked that, he liked having the benefits of a relationship without spending his money and energy on you, he loved that you even sent him gifts with your boyfriend's money, and he loved the way you would receive him with open arms without any question.

When you were together you always wanted more and more, but after much pain and understanding that the first, second and third place on his heart would always be himself, you decided to find someone who appreciated you, however, he's Wonbin, it was impossible to forget him.

And Wonbin's such a bitch, he knows he shouldn't bother him, he pays his expensive gifts after all, but he likes to see your scared expression all the time, you trying to keep his identity as a secret was his favorite amusement, hear you lying to the poor boy telling him you were staying at your friend's house instead of with him always made him laugh, when you sent him your location so he knew were you were but not with who he smiled, and when you sent him pictures of your shopping spring without him knowing half of those bags were for Wonbin, he felt fucking horny.

So, it's only natural that he likes you to maintain your boyfriend content, obliging you to always answer his calls, even when you were together, and he wouldn't stop doing his work, fingering you or eating your pussy, whatever he was doing, he wouldn't stop, Wonbin liked to think it was his way of saying thank you to that boy too, because if he made his girlfriend happy, he'd be happy too, right?

Anton

This crybaby, he keeps going back to you because he loves you too much, and it hurts his heart to know you have a boyfriend, but he would rather share you than not have you at all.

Your phone ringing with him inside you distracted him, that unique ringtone always sent a shiver through his back because he knew who was calling, and he felt ashamed, but he loved you so much he couldn't help it, "Answer, and tell him you prefer me, I know you do", he'd say, stopping his movements so you could grab your phone, and then, perfectly knowing you'd never make his wish come true, listening to you talk to your boyfriend pretending you were tired or busy, out of dissapointment with himself for being so pathetic, he'd rut his hips into you harder, making you suffer to contain your moans, because if he was suffering, you'd do it too.

#riize x plus size reader #riize x reader #riize smut #anton x reader #eunseok x reader #wonbin x reader #seunghan x reader #seunghan smut #anton smut #wonbin smut #eunseok smut

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labrxnth · 2 months

Text

Prison Break- Part 10 (Leon Kennedy x Reader Series)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER

Tag list:

WC: 5348

CW: Alcohol, SMUT VERY MUCH SMUT, oral, vaginal, dubious consent (If you squint. They both had like one drink)

A/N: I'm so sorry for the wait, take this as my apology. This is also my second time ever writing smut so uhhh take it as it is.

Summary: You and Leon go to a holiday dinner hosted by your friends. But surprise, you're feeling melancholic.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

The freshly fallen snow had covered the surroundings of Washington D.C.. Looking like icing or a weighted blanket, it brought a chill yet a warmth. This season had the tendency to do this to you, after all this was the holiday for nostalgia.

Your footsteps crunched on the snow as you made your way through the hip level gate into the front yard of the small house. Being from the north, “farming country” as the people in Boston called it, it always amused you what people would consider a yard. For most of America it meant a small area in the front of the house covered with dead grass. There were no woods here.

There was no place to run like you used to as a kid.No place to explore uncharted, besides people.

You would rather deal with the isolating darkness in the woods than try to figure out people. But, you were trying and that’s all that mattered.

A hand brushed up against yours, finding it and slipping into it. The warmth being spread even through layers of gloves and mittens caught your attention, bringing you back to reality.

Your head turned to your right as the one person you may have just figured out stood next to you.

“You okay? You seem a little spacey,” Leon’s voice asked, a billow of smoke coming out of his mouth into the freezing cold.

“Yeah, just homesick,” You replied.

Leon’s eyebrow raised, asking a silent question. Wasn’t this your home?

With a sigh, you leaned closer to him, shoulder to shoulder and still walking in tandem. “As much time as I spend here, I’m not sure it’ll feel like home,” You said.

“Maybe that’ll change,” He replied. His arm raised to wrap around your shoulders and pull you into his warmth more. “But I get it, I still miss my life from before… everything.”

“Will it change?” You asked as the two of you stopped on the small wooden porch. Your eyes met his.

“The way I’ve learned it is that connections make a place home. You have friends here now, at least more than you used to,” Leon said and shrugged. “And y’know, you have more important people too.”

You stared blankly at him, confused at what he was hinting at. After a few seconds of silence between the two of you, Leon looked away,

“My girlfriend doesn’t think I’m important to her,” He added, feigning offense.

Your eyes widened as your arms wrapped around him in an apology. “You confused me,” You said, frowning at him. “I thought you were talking about a family member or something,” You grumbled.

Leon stared back at you, a teasing smirk pulling at his lips. “Oh so I’m not a-”

He got cut off by you grabbing a fistful of snow and throwing it at him.

“Jesus (Y/n), you are a thirty-two year old woman,” Leon said, wiping the snow off and spitting the parts that got in his mouth out. You would've thought he was being serious if it weren’t for the glint in his eyes.

“Don’t be a dipshit,” You said lightly and helped him get the snow off his face.

“I thought you like my wit and charm,” He said, his voice carrying that teasing cadence that you had come to learn.

“Who told you that? I’m only dating you for your looks,” You said facetiously, a grin on your face.

“I don’t blame you.”

You were about to say something back when the front door suddenly opened in front of you. In the door stood Chris Redfield. He had on an ugly Christmas sweater with a garble of words on it that you couldn’t make out, a reindeer antler headband, and a flat expression on his face.

Your hand covered your mouth, trying to hide the giggle that was almost coming out. In your peripheral, you could see that Leon was grinning almost ear to ear, amused at Chris’s appearance.

“You two are late,” Chris said and glanced at Leon.

“Why are you looking at me? It’s not my fault!” Leon said.

Chris looked at Leon, not believing him for a second. “I know (Y/n), it was definitely not her fault.” He said, crossing his arms and looking at Leon amused. “Anyways, everyone else is inside, leave your shoes at the door.” He turned to walk back into the house.

With Chris’s absence, you could feel the warmth emitting from the house. It beckoned the two of you inside. Leon let you go in first, closing the door behind the two of you. You kicked off your snow boots and smelled the familiar smell of a heater running.

You went to take your scarf off, but Leon beat you to it, spinning you slightly as he did so. The spin brought you closer to him and his body, leaving only a few inches between your faces.

He had a knowing grin on his face, seeming amused with himself for being able to do that.

“You know we’re with other people, right?” You asked and raised an eyebrow.

Leon Kennedy was a gentleman at heart, but you knew that when he was being over the top it usually meant he wanted attention. He was a gentleman, but also somewhat like a male bird. Always wanting your attention and doing things to get it.

“I know, gotta show off how good of a boyfriend you have,” Leon replied and kissed your cheek. Your fingers laced together when you and Leon’s hands found each other naturally.

After a swift kiss, the two of you made your way into the living room, placing a bottle of wine and a bottle of whiskey on the counter. You didn’t expect the company to notice you walking in, but everyone said something of a greeting.

Jill was on the couch with Chris, she smiled in recognition at you and your heart fluttered a bit.

Had you mentioned before that Jill looked a lot like Leon and it confused your little heart? Not to mention her completely badass “get shit done” attitude made her very impressive.

You watched as her arm draped across Chris’s shoulders and the two of them smiled warmly at each other.

Leon started chatting with Claire while you found a spot on the floor next to your favorite Professor, Rebecca Chambers. Ever since you met the woman, you had a lot of respect for her; she was a biochem college professor, a PhD doctor, a previous S.T.A.R.S. member, and a kickass combat medic. She also had a warm attitude that made any situation more manageable.

You had come to be friends with her after that whole mess with Glen Arias.

“Merry Christmas, (Y/n),” Rebecca said and gave you a warm smile.

You said the same back and the two of you began talking about how the past few months had gone. It had officially been five months since Alcatraz and while you wanted to keep in touch, it took a nudge from Leon to reach out to people.

The living room was filled with a type of warmth you hadn’t experienced since before your world came crashing down around you. You hadn’t felt like this since…..

Since New Hampshire…

Home.

“Okay guys, onto our first holiday tradition!” Claire said with authority, standing up.

“Do we have to this ye-” Chris started.

“Yes, we do, don’t be a grouch!” Claire said, staring at her brother.

You looked at the two of them and lightly smiled as memories flooded you.

You had a family. You knew they were still alive, but they didn’t know you were.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

February 24th 2009

The snow felt different here than you were used to. What was a beautiful blanket of snow in your small apple farming town, was a bitter, sharp, force of nature in the city.

You always had mixed feelings about Boston, on one hand it was fun to have a major city an hour away from your house, but on the other hand you liked the distance. You tended to keep a distance, a separation between the city and your hometown.

That’s what your parents did anyways. They came from the city, opting for a small town with good education to raise you and your brother. But now, you were back in the cold city, your usual coffee order sitting on the table in front of you while your eyes searched for anyone familiar.

Your head leaned on your hand as you thought about this time of year. Your birthday was a month ago, but it wasn’t celebratory. You got a pat on the back from your Captain for making it one more year around the sun.

If your captain knew you snuck out, you’d be discharged, your thoughts ran wild. And if you get discharged, you catch the discharge out of a gun, you know too much.

Your leg started bouncing up and down, something you had started doing since joining USStratcom.

If you didn’t see them, it wasn’t worth it. The torture you were put through every day wasn’t worth it if you couldn’t just see the people you did this for.

When the government found you after what happened in Manchester, your options were either to join USStratcom and get trained to fight whatever horror you saw that night or to decline. If you declined, you would’ve been checked out of this world early, your blood spilling on the ground and your family would soon join you.

The U.S. government didn’t like loose ends.

Your eyes searched the sidewalk as you finally saw a glimpse at who you came here for.

Across the street, a woman threw back her rain coat’s hood, revealing the same face that was your own, only more aged. Your mother reached into her purse to find something, then produced a key. She put it in a door and walked up a flight of stairs and out of sight.

Just like that, she appeared and was gone. Within the span of thirty seconds. She was just passing, going into her apartment like she did everyday. IT was something so small, but to you it meant the world.

You saw a light turn on in a room on the fifth floor. From your seat, you could see the curtain moving and the sight of a man around your age appeared in the window.

They were alive and living their lives, unaware of what happened to you.

The government didn’t answer any questions about you to your family, they just took you as soon as you agreed to join USStratcom.

You brought your coffee out the door with you, taking your umbrella out and opening it. Using the crosswalk, you walked across the street and looked at the door your mom entered.

It was almost like you could feel the red dot appear on your back as a bead of sweat rolled down your face. You shouldn’t go in, you shouldn’t have even seen them.

But you wanted them to know you were okay….

The rain hit the sidewalk and the sound of the doorbell could be heard inside of the apartment. However, when the woman opened the door, the person who rang it was gone, leaving only the ghost of memories and a single flower on the welcome mat.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

“(Y/n)?” Leon’s voice cut through the memory, bringing you back to Jill’s house.

You blinked a bit, shaking your head slightly and looked down at the table. Somehow, while enthralled in the memory, you had sat down at the dining table and started playing a board game with everyone else. It would be impressive, if it wasn’t scary how good you were at that.

Your eyes looked down at the money you owned in the game and you rolled the dice. Your turn went quickly, as you wanted this to be done.

It felt like you had gotten ripped out of a separate reality. And for all intents and purposes, you did.

Leon’s hand went to the back of your chair and he searched your face, knowing something was wrong.

“Hey, Redfield, play for me. And Jill, play for (Y/n).” Leon said and stood up, nodding to the other room.

You followed him as you heard Chris grumbling about not wanting to play.

The voices and the light from the dining room started getting more distant the further you went into Jill’s house. Leon motioned for you to head into the guest room and you did without question.

When Leon walked in, he closed the door behind him. “What’s going on?” He asked and looked down at you. His hand came up to stroke your cheek and he cupped your face.

“It’s nothing… just a memory,” You replied, your gaze sinking to the floor.

“Just a memory? Raccoon City could be ‘just a memory’. Nothing is small if it affects you this much.” Leon replied, now holding your face with two hands.

He tilted your head up so you were looking at him. “Please, tell me. We promised to talk to each other.” He added.

If anyone could melt your heart easily, it was Leon Kennedy. Even as a late 30s year old man, he could act like a little puppy. Especially now when he was giving you the stare that unwound your heart.

“It was a memory about sneaking away from training and seeing my mom.” You replied, your arms reaching out for him. He pulled you closer and leaned his head on top of yours.

“She knows you’re alive?” Leon asked.

“No. I made sure she didn’t see me. This life is too hard to have a family in.” You answered and nestled into him. “Except for maybe other people that know this life.” You added and looked up at him. To add a certain element to it, you bat your eyelashes at him, hoping he would fall for the bait.

“Very cute, but I’m not falling for it,” Leon said, a smile on his lips. “We’re not leaving early.”

You pouted at him. “That’s not what I meant…” You grumbled.

Leon’s lips met your forehead in a quick kiss, then his lips met yours. The softness of his lips against your skin set everything in you ablaze. He was your warmth on a cold day like today.

“Is that what you were looking for?” He asked.

“Actually, yes,” You replied and chuckled. The two of you stared at each other with the magnitude of two planets coming together. His soft blue eyes met your (e/c) ones.

“I don’t know what to do with you sometimes,” He said, sighing. The usual smirk was plastered on his face. “But seriously, we promised to be communicative with each other, and I want to know what’s going on in that pretty brain of yours.”

His lips met your temple in a quick peck.

“Okay,” You replied. Your hands wrapped around his waist and you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Feeling better?” He asked. His hands ran up and down your arms, soothing and warming you up.

You nodded in reply, your face moving against his shirt.

“Alright, let’s head back in there and get drunk,” Leon said facetiously and kissed your cheek again. “I’ll even let you sit on my lap if you’re good.” The grin on his face was enough for you to playfully slap his arm.

“I'll take the offer but don't be weird about it,” You answered and stuck your tongue out. The two of you made your way back to the table and it was like walking into a battlefield.

It wasn’t hard to determine what happened, Claire and Chris were scrubbing the carpet with sponges, Rebecca was picking up broken glasses, Jill was picking up the board game that had been scattered on the floor. The table was tipped over and Chris had a guilty look on his face as he scrubbed away at the coffee and alcohol stains on Jill’s carpet.

You and Leon helped put the table back and Jill put cards on the table. “Christopher, I swear to God if I have to ban you from playing fucking cards, I will,” She said and glared at him.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

The cards were dealt and the alcohol was poured. You were watching Leon play, as you were never one to play Texas Holdem; you could never get the rules down unless you had the chart of what was most valuable by your side.

You were seated between Leon’s legs, your back against his chest. His head was leaned on your shoulder as he studied the cards in his hand. Your eyes looked at the cards as you took a sip from your glass. The alcohol smoothly went down your throat, surprising you. Whiskey usually didn’t appeal to you, but then again neither did wine.

And your choice was one of the two.

As you kept sipping from your glass, Leon’s arm around your waist tightened. “Slow down,” His voice gently warned you.

You were used to drinks that you would shoot, and Leon could tell you would be in for a rough morning if you continued. Thanks to his words, you put the glass back down on the table and watched the game play out.

Claire won, as usual, and she collected the total of 5.00$ from the pile. You got more comfortable, squirming around in the chair as you did so. What you hadn’t taken into account was how close you were to Leon and that when you moved, you slightly rubbed up against him, earning you a slight, sharp inhale from your boyfriend.

“Can you sit still?” Leon asked quietly, looking at you. You nodded in reply, noticing how his ears were red with blush.

An idea came to your head.

Was it fueled by the slight amount of whiskey in your system? Maybe, but it wasn’t abnormal for you to mess with Leon. If he was allowed to tease you, then certainly you were allowed to tease him.

Without catching anyone else’s attention, you moved slightly, pressing your ass against his pants more. You moved slightly side to side, which caused Leon to slightly hiss and move his free hand from your waist to your hip to hold you still.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” He whispered in your ear.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up at how bothered he sounded. Maybe you were playing a dangerous game, but you were certainly ready for the consequences of your actions.

You moved a little more, pressing yourself against him more-

With a pap!, Leon’s cards were put face up on the table. “Well guys, thanks for having us. Me and Sadie still have work tomorrow, so we’re actually gonna head out,” Leon’s voice said.

“Really? In the middle of a game?” Jill asked, her eyebrow arched.

Leon nodded adamantly. “The bosses want us in bright and early. (Y/n) doesn’t do mornings well, so it’s best to head home early. We’ll see you for New Year’s,” He said and tapped your hips to get you up.

You stood up and he grabbed your hand leading you to the door to grab your shoes.

“Bye! It was really fun, thanks for inviting me,” You said with a smile.

“Of course, you’re part of the family now,” Claire said, matter-of-factly.

Family….

The word rang in your ears and you thought about it, lingered on it so much that you hadn’t even noticed you were now getting out of your car in the parking garage. Leon’s hand was in yours as the two of you walked to the door.

Claire had said family, you belonged.

The thought could have brought tears to your eyes if you weren’t also thinking about your current situation.

Suddenly, you were in your apartment, the door closing behind you and Leon pinning you to the door.

“Really?” He asked, an eyebrow raised. His large, muscular forearm was right next to your head.

“What?” You asked, feigning innocence.

He stared at you. “I told you that you were playing a dangerous game,” He added.

A grin pulled at your lips as you slightly bit your bottom lip. “I know,” You replied.

Leon pinched his nose and sighed. “I don’t know what to do with you sometimes,” He said. His eyes then locked with yours and he leaned in, leaving only a few inches of space between the two of you. “But other times, I know what I want to do to you.” His eyes turned into a fire, something you were now all too familiar with.

“And what would that be?” You asked, tilting your head up to him.

He leaned in close, almost like he was going to bite your neck, his breath hot against your neck.

“I’m going to make you cum on my mouth, then my dick,” He said.

Your face turned a deep shade of red at his words. “Is- is that a promise?” You asked, still trying to remain in control of your heart and emotions that were dialed all the way up.

“You’re so cute when you try to fight how flustered you are,” He hummed and kissed your neck. His teeth lightly bit down and his lips left a mark as he pulled away.

He picked you up by your waist, earning a yelp from your lips, and carried you through your apartment to the bedroom. He dropped you gently on the mattress and his lips were on yours in an instant.

His knees were on either side of your legs and one of his hands was on your hip while the other one kept him upright on the bed.

Your lips crashed together, begging to taste the other. Leon’s teeth lightly bit your bottom lip, asking for permission. You opened your lips and his tongue entered your mouth, searching for your own. Your tongues locked together and twirled in a way that could only be described as dancing.

As you pulled away for a breath, you noticed his hands were already working on taking your pants off, the jeans being halfway down your legs. Leon’s eyes locked with yours again as a slight, cocky, smirk graced his face.

“Tell me what you want,” He mused, his hand pulling your pants off all the way. Then, his hand came up to your hair, running through the strands. “Use your words, we promised to be communicative,” He added.

“I need your mouth between my legs,” You said breathlessly. He took your words as a green light and almost ripped your panties off.

Leon was a gentle lover most of the time, especially when you wanted him to be, but playing with him and getting him all riled up was the easiest way to make him intense. You had made the man desperate for you undone, wrapped around him.

He moved lower, his lips trailing down your shirt and stomach. As he moved lower, his body inched lower, making room for him near your core.

He grabbed a pillow and put it at the small of your back, angling your, now uncovered, entrance towards him. With a slight hum, he kissed the inside of your thigh, teasing you.

His lips felt like feathers, then a sudden pain shot up your body. Leaning up on your elbows, and looking at him, you could see that he had slightly bit into your thigh, leaving a mark. He kissed your body like a man starved, like he had been deprived of a core need his entire life. Even though your sex life was colorful and frequent, he always treated you like he was tasting and feeling you for the first time.

A jolt of pleasure finally hit you as his tongue found your clit, swollen in anticipation and arousal. A small moan escaped your lips as your head hung back, looking up at the ceiling.

You could almost feel the smirk on his lips as he kissed your vulva, making sure to worship all of your parts and give them what they craved. His arms hooked around your thighs, bringing your body closer to his face.

Your back arched against the pillow as another jolt of pleasure surged through you, feeling his tongue and lips paying attention to every part that needed it. You two had been together long enough for Leon to know where and how to pleasure you. He knew your body like his own, wanting to leave you so satisfied that you couldn’t talk.

“Babe, babe, slow down!” You whimpered, your hand digging into his hair and pulling it slightly. “I’m gonna-” You were cut off by a moan leaving your lips. Your eyes met his and it felt like you were prey stuck in the gaze of a hunter.

He pulled away slightly, giving you a bit of respite, and he titled his head. “Do you actually want me to slow down?” He asked, his eyes turning softer.

You shook your head a bit and he nodded, leaning up to kiss your cheek. “I said what I wanted to do to you, don’t deny a man his partner’s pleasure,” He said and moved back down, assuming the position he had before.

He kept lapping at your clit, making you flex your thigh muscles. The pleasure ran through your whole body as you hit your orgasm. A moan left your lips as you could feel your pussy clenching around something that wasn’t there, aching for him. Your body instantly relaxed into the mattress as you were coming down from your climax. Leon sat up and pulled his shirt over his head, licking his lips to clean up any of your cum from them.

He pulled you closer to him and kissed your cheek again. Your hands found their way to his chest and ran over the muscles there as he started to take off his pants.

His pants were off in a few seconds and the same with his boxers. You sat up and your hand went to feel his shaft, but his hand stopped you. He kissed your cheek again, his words hot on your ear. “Not tonight. I want to please you tonight,” He said quietly.

His hands lifted your shirt over your head and his mouth was on your breasts. His hands wrapped around your back and unhooked your bra, leaving you completely bare to him. Your breath hitched as his lips made their way back to your neck.

With ease, Leon had you in his lap, facing him. The two of you loved this position, being as close as you possibly could, facing each other. It felt intimate and it could be rough if the night permitted it.

And tonight did permit it.

Leon only took a few seconds to coat the tip of his dick with your climax. He teased your entrance, then slammed into you. A moan escaped both of your lips as his dicks slid effortlessly into you, your walls being accustomed to his size and shape by now.

Your face leaned into his shoulder as he started snapping his hips into you. The movement made you wrap your arms around his neck like you would fall off. His hands went to your hips, making you move in opposition to his movements, making the come together all the more pleasurable.

Leon moved your hair out of your face with one hand and he smiled at you. “God, you’re so beautiful like this. And only I get to see you this way,” He said, kissing your forehead.

His words were enough to make your pussy clench around him more, causing a moan to fall out of his lips.

“You take me so well, holy fuck,” He said breathlessly.

All that could be heard in the room was obscene sounds and Leon praising you between the two of your moans.

The hot pleasure was building inside of you, and you could feel Leono’s dick twitching inside of you.

“Where do you want it?” He asked quickly, trying to get the words out.

“You can stay in,” You said, your eyes meeting his. He nodded, his eyes half squeezed shut from a nearing climax.

In a moment that came together perfectly, pun intended, you reached your orgasm. You made a sound that was a mix of a whimper and a moan, pulling yourself closer to Leon in the process. You saw stars as you got sent over the edge, feeling your pleasure explode within you.

With a slight haa Leon kept going, feeling his dick getting squeezed by your walls. “I’m gonna-” He got cut off by his own moan and he buried his face in your shoulder and snapped his hips into you a few more times.

You felt his cum drip into you, evident by Leon panting and the back of his neck being red with a blush. Your hand gently ran through the hair on the back of his head, soothing him through his own orgasm.

After a few minutes of being in your arms like this, he came back to. “I’ll go gr

After a few minutes of being in your arms like that, he came to. His breathing got more regular, going from a pant to barely being audible. His muscles relaxed and his grip on you got looser.

“I’ll go grab you a towel,” He said and pulled out. Both of you winced at the sudden stimulation again and he got up to grab a towel from the bathroom.

He came back with a bowl of fruit, some water, and a towel. Climbing back on the bed, he put the water and fruit on the nightstand and gently cleaned you off with the towel. His hands made quick and easy work, making sure to clean off your sweat as well.

After, he settled down next to you and pulled you into his arms. His arm wrapped around your waist and the other grabbed your snacks as he kissed your head.

“How’re you feeling, (Y/n)?” He asked softly.

“Good…” You mumbled and popped a raspberry in your mouth.

The two of you laid together, regaining whatever energy you could in each others’ warmth. Leon tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and smiled warmly at you.

“I think I found something I’ve been looking for for a long time,” He said blissfully.

You raised an eyebrow and looked at him.

“Someone that’s my family, someone I belong to. And someone that belongs to me,” He explained.

Your eyebrows relaxed as you smiled at his words.

Thinking about the past few months with this man, no the past few years, was enough to give you that same sense of warmth. He took you under his wing as a field partner, he never pried about your past until you wanted to open up to him.

The endless amount of bar hang out, the numerous missions, all of came to mind. And you were finding yourself of the same mind as him.

No matter your past, you were part of his family now, and he yours. The two of you were unstoppable on the field and in your relationship. You didn't know how to say all the thoughts and words swimming in your head, so you opted for three words that would sum it all up.

“I love you,” You said quietly and leaned into his embrace.

His smile widened and he squeezed you closer. “I love you too,” He replied.

No matter what fucked up bioweapon came your way next, you were certain that you could always come back to your family- Leon Kennedy.

#resident evil fanfic #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil fanfiction #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy

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fictionismyreality3 · 4 months

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Hi! I love your writing and i was wondering if you could write something where it’s Bradley and the reader’s wedding and for the sendoff they do something like this causeI thought its was so cute. If you can’t that’s totally fine but thanks anyway! 🫶

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CyRCdL3uZL8/?igsh=Zmx5NWd6aW1rOXRn

A Day to Remember

Tags: Rooster x reader

Notes: hi babes!! Thank you much for the request, sorry it took so long, school is kicking my ass 😅

Warnings: weddings, romance and everything that comes with it

"No. There's no way I'm gonna have oragami F-16s thrown at my head on my wedding day." You laughed incredulously.

When Bradley had proposed, you thought your life couldn't get any better. You had a dream job, a dream man, and friends that had been exactly what you needed, even though they were unexpected. Telling the squad went exactly how you expected, everyone was more excited than they had been when Roo and Maverick survived the Dagger mission. But no one had been more thrilled than Phoenix. When Pheonix asked to help plan the wedding, you were hesitant at first.

You had first-hand experience with her lack of party-planning skills. Somehow, even though she was incredibly organized during her work, the woman had an utterly disastrous record with parties.

And your wedding was going to be a pretty big party.

But how could you say no to Phoenix? She had been there for you through everything. From showing up at your door with pints of ice cream when your favourite character died in the show you were watching to going full Godzilla on the new recruits that tried to hit on you. It was nearly impossible to say no to her when she pulled her puppy dog eyes out and started reciting every favour you owed her.

So you agreed.

"C'mon, please? It will be cute, I promise." She pleaded as you continued to put your toppings on your pizza.

It was Wednesday, which Phoenix had decided was the designated wedding planning day. She would show up with a bottle of whatever you guys wanted to drink and you would make the pizza, frozen to accommodate for the cooking skills neither of you possessed.

"Look, I already let you get away with the abundance of mason jars, I'm not getting divebombed by a bunch of the planes that we fly." You grinned.

Rolling her eyes, Phoenix conceded, and that was how a lot of the planning was settled. Phoenix would bring up hundreds of crazy ideas, and you would filter through her overly enthusiastic party planning to find the good ones. You and Bob would rein her in whenever she got carried away, especially when she brought up the idea of having a literal rooster at the wedding.

"I think it's hilarious," Rooster said as you two got ready for the day. He came up behind you, turning you around to face him as he lifted you up onto the bathroom counter. Your hands automatically came to rest on his shoulders, fitting perfectly just like the two of you had when you met.

"You have one already and you can't seem to get enough, honey." He continued grinning.

You swatted at his chest, giggling as he began to pepper kisses along your neck, following a path that only he knew down to your collarbone. You tilted your head back to give him access to your soft skin that only he would ever earn, and your words came out in a breathy sigh.

"I think you just-" Your train of thought halted as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot of your neck. "You just like the idea of a little Roo running around, you brute."

The rest of that morning consisted of him trying to make said 'little Roo' happen, not that you were complaining.

The wedding was 3 months away and you were choosing your dress. Payback had insisted you go to the boutique that his grandmother used to run, saying that you could even get a dress for free. You tried to urge against it, but after his granda met you she wouldn't hear a 'no'.

"Oh, it's so nice that my Rueben made some friends. Let me tell you about the time he.."

So you agreed.

Everything was ready and Phoenix was running around like a madwoman trying to orchestrate the chaos of venues, cakes and flowers into one magnificent symphony. It was 3 days out from the wedding and you had gone with your bridesmaids to the hotel Pheonix had rented to have some much-needed girl time. Rooster and the rest of the guys had done the same, probably off partying somewhere under Mav's watchful eyes.

As you sat getting your nails done, the colour a baby blue that Rooster had picked out, you continued to poke at Phoenix for the details of the wedding. She had demanded to keep you out of the loop when it came to the majority of the venue decoration she had selected. Even Rooster wouldn't spill when you called him that night.

"I don't wanna face her wrath, honey. You know-" He began.

"Hey! No talking to the groom. It's bad luck!" Phoenix said as she plucked the phone from your hand.

When your wedding day finally came, you were a ball of nerves. As you got blindfolded and brought up to bridal sweet to get ready, you could only imagine what combinations of decor she had concocted. In your mind, you replayed the time she tried to throw a Christmas party for the squad that resulted in one too many poppers, a fireplace, and a whole lot of firetrucks.

"Ready, kid?" Maverick's voice broke you out of your thoughts.

Taking one last look in the mirror at yourself, the dress you had picked out making you look like a princess, you nodded and took his arm. As the two of you finally stopped in front of the doors that stood between you and your future, your heart swelled with anticipation. The sound of Bruno Mars 'Just the Way You Are' being played on the piano filled your ears, and Mav straightened where he stood, looking down at you with a proud smile.

"That's our cue, kid. You got this." He whispered to you as the doors opened.

All at once every ounce of fear or worry you had been holding on to dissipated.

Phoenix had outdone herself.

White Calla Lilies hung from the ceiling, surrounded by fairy lights and other perfectly placed bobbles. Every table was decorated with a centrepiece of forget-me-nots and daisies. The teary smiles of your family and friends stared at you in happiness. Even the mason jar candles sat in just the right amounts.

Your eyes locked on Bradley, whose tears were already flowing, and you walked down the aisle without hesitation.

Mav handed you off to Bradley, muttering a few protective words before going to take his seat as the priest began to speak.

"Hey, you." You whispered to Bradley.

"Hey, hun." He choked out through tears.

Both of you stood at the altar, grinning ear to ear at each other. Your vows to each other made sure there wasn't a dry eye left in the room.

"You may now kiss the-" The priest began to say.

He didn't even get a chance to finish before Rooster already had his hands on either side of your face and was slamming his lips to yours. He was kissing you so hard your hands shot out to hold the lapels of his suit jacket so your swooning didn't cause you to fall over.

The crowd erupted in cheers, and you could hear the distinct sound of Hangman and the other guys hooting and hollering as Bradley poured every single ounce of love he had for you into the kiss.

You had your first dance to 'Ain't No Mountain High Enough', and before you knew it you and Rooster were being whisked away by Phoenix for your send-off.

The same send-off that she had refused to tell you about.

"Just don't get mad!" She said quickly.

"Nat? What do you mean? What did you do?" You looked to Rooster for help but he was wearing the same conspiratorial grin as Phoenix.

Before you could say anything else, she was already pushing both of you outside. It took a second for your eyes and ears to adjust to the sight and sound of your cheering loved ones who were lining the steps of the venue. It took even longer to process what you saw in each of their hands.

Instead of baskets of rice, everyone there was holding what looked like a piece of paper. You were about to ask Bradley what was going on, but then something hit you in the side of your head. Startled, you went to turn to see what hit you, only to be greeted with the sight of a mischievous Phoenix holding two origami planes.

Two F-16s to be exact.

Before you could react, you and Rooster were getting pelted by a rain of paper F-16s. You burst out laughing as he grabbed your hand, pulling you to the limo so quickly you barely got a chance to wave goodbye to everyone.

You let out a sigh of contentment as you slipped into the limo, looking back at the perfect venue and perfect friends who had planned it all.

Okay, maybe you'd let Phoenix plan every party you had.

#oneshot #bradley rooster x reader #rooster x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster x y/n #rooster fanfic #rooster top gun #rooster x reader #rooster #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw

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holdmytesseract · 1 year

Note

hello!! i saw you were looking for steamy stuff with daryl and was thinking about leaving him some steamy pictures with a polaroid, maybe they slip it to him at the worst time and he gets flustered and embarrasses himself or stick with steamy and he decides he wants to take his own pictures of them 😏

anyway, i hope you have a lovely day/evening 🥰

Sinful Distraction

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: You decide to leave a little surprise for Daryl. A little sinful distraction while he's away.

Warnings: umm... mentions of naughty photos? tiny bit spicy, fluff?

Set in Season 9!

Word Count: 1,2k

a/n: Thanks for the request, nonny! 😁 I loved it, hehe. Hopefully you like what I wrote! 🧡

Tagging: @km-ffluv @stitchintimefan @sweetpeapod @loz-3 @peaches1958 @fictive-sl0th @lou12346789 @bookofsecretjourneys @azanoni @fuseburner @hotgirlsshareaccounts @in-this-minute

Masterlist

A cheeky smile danced across your lips as you put the Polaroid you coincidentally found on the last run back in its hiding place, before you sat down on the bed and admired the pictures you just took. You bit your lip. They were perfect - and hopefully able to distract Daryl just a tiny bit.

Your man was going out for a few days, probably a week, helping Rick out, of course, to build the bridge, and you decided to not let him leave without a little... surprise. A gift, rather. He just had to find it. You'd hide the pictures in the back pocket of his baggy jeans, hoping that he'd need the red rug he always carried with him in that pocket. A perfect plan, wasn't it? You bit your lip, smirking; proud that you had this idea.

"Y/N?" Daryl's voice echoed down the stairs towards the basement you and Daryl called home. Hastily, you hid the pictures in your pocket, thinking he was coming downstairs. "I'm here! Yeah?!" He wasn't. "We are goin' in a bit! Thought ya might wanna come up and say goodbye?!" "You can bet your butt on this! I'm coming, baby!" You heard Daryl snort out a laugh. "Thought ya need my butt?! Ain't got nothin' to hold on when it's gone!" You couldn't prevent a rather loud giggle leaving your lips. You loved when Daryl once in a while got all humorous and sassy. He had such a dry sense of humour - and you loved it. "Well... Point for you, hon!" "I'll be outside!" You could hear the amusement in his voice. He was definitely smiling. You took a last look at the pictures, before you hid them again and quickly made your way up the stairs and out of the house. Daryl sat on the stairs on the porch, clearly waiting for you. As soon as he heard the door close shut, the archer stood up and turned around, facing you. "Ready?" He asked. You knew exactly what he meant. He asked it every time, just like you gave him the same answer - every time. "I'll never be ready to be separated from you." Daryl bit the inside of his lip - a habit you loved so much. "I know. 'M sorry. I hate leavin' ya, 's just..." "You have to, I know." You nodded, smiling and stepped with him down the stairs. When you and him hit solid ground again, you immediately reached for him; took his big hands into yours. "It's okay. It's who you are and what you do. I-I mean, I would've accompanied you, but Michonne needs me here a-and..." Now Daryl was the one who nodded, giving you a soft smile. "She does," he said. "Alexandria does." You smiled at him as well, touched by the utter sweetness of this man.

Daryl squeezed your intertwined hand and looked from side to side, checking his surroundings and making sure nobody was looking, before he dipped his head in order to give you a sweet kiss. Showing affection in public was still something he had to get used to, but you didn't complain, gave him all the time he needed. You leaned in the kiss, of course, trying to make it last as long as possible; even letting go of his hands, in order to wrap them around his neck. You were successful, keeping the archer's lips locked onto yours for a little while longer, before he withdrew, blushing ever so softly. He is so cute, you thought, suppressing an upcoming giggle. Then you suddenly remembered the pictures, which were still in the pocket of your jeans. That had to change, of course. So, you scanned the street again, pulling Daryl in another kiss and catching him quite a bit by surprise. Now that he was distracted by your lips on his, you reached for the pictures in your pocket, wrapping your arms around your man's broad torso, lowered your palms on his ass and finally managed to slip the cargo in his back pocket.

Daryl jumped at your sudden bold, intimate move and ended the kiss, looking at you with slightly widened eyes and an even darker shape of red on his cheeks. "What ya doin', woman?!" You giggled, remembering the conversation you had earlier with him. "Makin' sure it's still there. Testin' if I can still hold onto it, ya know." You said and winked, causing him to playfully roll his eyes.

After saying once again thoroughly goodbye to Daryl and the others who accompanied him, you retreated back to the little basement apartment you shared with the archer; hoping that your mischievous, cheeky plan was going to be successful.

After travelling to the bridge, alongside Aaron, Rick and Carol, Daryl went immediately to work. After all, the bridge didn't build itself. The archer didn't quite like to work with the Saviors. Former enemies, now turned allies, but he didn't have a choice, did he? They needed every help they could get. It was a big task and couldn't be done just by Alexandrians. Working in the heat of the summer wasn't exactly great as well, but that was also a thing which couldn't be changed.

It took Daryl almost two days to find the surprise you had hid for him but eventually, he found it...

"Daryl?" The archer lifted his head, looking up to face Aaron, who stood a few meters away from him. "Yeah?" "Have you got a rug or something with you?" Daryl nodded, sat back on his heels and reached for the familiar red rug in the back pocket of his jeans - only to find something what definitely didn't feel like his rug. His rug was there, too, but also something else. He frowned, but took the rug first, throwing it towards Aaron. "Thanks!" Daryl gave his friend a nod, before standing up and reaching for the other items in his pocket - which he had identified as Polaroid pictures, but the man didn't have a single clue what were on them, of course. When his gaze landed on the three pictures, his heart almost stopped beating for a second, eyes widening. He expected a lot - but not seeing you on them half naked, or well... very scarcely dressed. Goddamnit, woman, he thought, feeling his cheeks literally burn with how hard he was blushing. If he'd have found them in his tent, back at the camp, it wouldn't have been a problem, but out here? In 'public'? With all the men around him? No, he couldn't help himself but go as red as a beetroot. Nevertheless, he also couldn't help himself, but to skip through the pictures. The temptation was just too big. Just because he was slightly embarrassed, didn't mean that he didn't like what he saw... Quite the opposite. Daryl rather had to fight against the upcoming issue in his pants... On the backside of the last picture was something written on it, like he noticed. 'Thought you might need a bit distraction some time... ;)' Naughty girl, the archer thought, shaking his head. "Jus' ya wait 'til I get home..." He muttered under his breath. Revenge was sweet, after all, wasn't it?

#daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon #twd #twd fanfiction #twd fic #twd oneshot #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon x reader smut #twd smut

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kairiscorner · 7 months

Text

losing count. – teen!miguel o'hara x gn!reader

doing sit-ups in PE was a challenge for the young, scrawny, thick glasses-wearing miguel o'hara. he struggled to get his upper body off the ground, prompting some of his bigger classmates to tease and laugh at him from the sides. you were holding up on your own just fine, and when you finished the count your teacher gave you, they immediately assigned you to be miguel's partner in helping him do the sit-ups. you turned around and watched as the poor guy struggled to lift himself up and turned back to your teacher with a strained look on your face. "and i'm supposed to help that twig out?" "i'll consider it as extra credit." your teacher offered, to which you sighed and reluctantly accepted.

you walked over to miguel and you awkwardly explained to him that you'd be his partner for this activity. while still trying to pull himself up, he reminded you that the teacher said this was an individual exercise. you rolled your eyes and set your hands on miguel's feet, keeping them closely together. "now, try to lift yourself up off the ground. you can do it, dork." you encouraged him with a sarcastic jab. miguel took in a deep breath and tried his hardest to get himself up off the ground. after many failed attempts, he finally succeeded and got his upper body off the ground—though he lifted himself up too well that his lips accidentally almost pressed against yours.

his chestnut brown eyes behind those thick glasses of his stared into yours, his sharp nose brushed over your own nose, making you gasp slightly at the contact. "s-sorry. guess i got carried away, i'll count that." miguel apologized as you looked away from him, a little shy. "...that was just one sit-up, dumbass, keep going." "right, right..." miguel murmured as he got into position again and wobbly did the sit-ups with more ease. every time he got to a higher number than before, he'd accidentally propel himself too forward and almost make contact with your lips. he'd start over, again, and again, and again—pissing you off but also giving you this weird, warm feeling in your chest.

"you're such a loser, can't even count right, yet you're always on the honor roll." you complained with a huff, making miguel groan and furrow his thick eyebrows as he lifted himself up off the ground again. "give me a break... i can't focus on anything but the prettiest face before me right now." he huffed as he brought his face even closer to yours, staring directly into your eyes as his lips were a hair's breadth away from your own. you felt your face grow hot as miguel didn't pull away, his eyes were still bearing into your own. "...i lost count again..." miguel muttered, sighing. you grumbled and got up in frustration, though you were still evidently flustered, you were also angered at miguel for not counting right. "you're such an idiot." "and you're... so mean; so pretty but so mean."

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

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zorrasucia · 10 months

Text

Yes, I do the cooking; yes, I do the cleaning.

Carmy x Reader (The Bear FX)

Tags: Set sometime after The Bear opens, Baby's first x reader fic - please be nice, Smut, Porn without plot, Porn with feelings, Oral sex (F receiving), P in V sex

Summary: Carmy looks distractingly hot when he cleans.

It had been a long day. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, cursing the shiny, new, black shoes you were wearing. You had been so proud when Nat had complimented them earlier but after a whole day of carrying plates in and out of the kitchen you were regretting even buying them. Thankfully, the day was over. The front of the house was dark and empty, while the back was still lit up but weirdly quiet.

"Yo, cousin, it's late," Richie called from the lockers where you were both getting your things. "I swear that stain will still be there in the morning!"

"Almost done!" Carmy yelled back.

Richie rolled his eyes. "Can you believe this guy?"

You chuckled. You could.

"I'll see if I can convince him," you offered and Richie huffed.

"Well, good fucking luck with that," he did a salute in your direction, grabbed his backpack and left.

You walked to the back of the kitchen.

"Carmy?"

He didn't respond. You could hear the rhythmic sound of him scrubbing the floor and followed it.

You found him kneeling, his chef's whites gone, leaving him in his t-shirt and slacks. Your eyes wandered to his arms, the way they flexed as he kept on scrubbing, the sleeves almost too tight. You had all seen him like that a few times, completely focused on cleaning, not caring even a bit that he was CDC, obsessed with keeping the place pristine. Privately, you had wondered about the state of his knees and whether his arms looked like that because of scrubbing alone.

"New shoes?" Carmy asked, his eyes darting to the ground under you.

"Don't get me started," you let out a pained sigh and he chuckled.

"Heard, Chef," he replied with a smile. You stared; he looked young and pretty when he smiled.

He kept scrubbing. His hair was messy - well, messier than usual - a few strands falling in front of his face and moving as he cleaned. You caught yourself thinking about how he'd look like that, hovering above you, his exhale on your skin...

"Come on, Carmy," you said, interrupting your own train of thought. There had been electricity between you two for weeks but it felt a little wrong to think of him that way. "Everyone's gone already."

"Told you," he insisted. "I'm almost done. You can go ahead."

You sighed. "Fine."

Was there even anyone waiting for him at home? Your heart swelled with tenderness for Carmy. Without realizing, you reached out to touch his hair, to fix the strands that had fallen out of place, running your fingers through the length of it. He looked up, his blue eyes wide with surprise. His gaze went from your face down your body, lingering on your lips, the slight v of your shirt and that bit where your skirt ended and black tights started showing.

"Sorry. I- sorry," your hand stayed there, cupping the side of his head. And he didn't move away either, if anything he leaned slightly into the touch.

"It's good," he replied, still on his knees. Slowly, he turned his head and kissed your palm. You inhaled sharply. "It's all good," he repeated, more warmth to his tone.

He got up on his feet, his hands cupped your face carefully. He was just and inch or two taller than you, enough that you had to arch your neck a little to kiss him. His lips were soft and pliant, his breath tickled your cheek. His hands moved to your waist, bringing you closer together, his tongue moved slowly against yours.

"I didn't plan this," you said against his lips when you paused to catch your breath.

"Neither did I," he laughed, his face was flushed and beautiful. "I wasn't sure- I wasn't sure if you wanted me."

"I do. A lot," you smiled. "I'm surprised you didn't catch me staring at you. I thought I was being so obvious," you added, wanting to add to the red of his blush.

He arched an eyebrow. "Wh- When-?"

It was your turn to blush, you averted his gaze. "You look very hot when you clean," you admitted.

"Fuck off!"

He laughed, a proper laugh, carefree and open, his eyes crinkling a little. You had only ever seen him laugh like that a couple of times. It made you a little proud to be the cause of it.

"What? You do," you insisted.

"What's hot about it?" he humored you.

"I don't know," you shrugged. "You're so focused. And your arms- You look strong," you cleared your throat. "And when you're on your knees-" you stopped.

"You like that?" he asked earnestly.

You nodded.

He studied you, head tilted. You recognized that look. When there was a problem that needed solving in the restaurant or when he was assessing the ingredients of the walk-in to plan a meal, he did that face.

"Alright," he said after a while.

He knelt back down, his hands never leaving you, tracing a sinuous path from your waist down your hips and thighs. His face looking up made your heart beat faster. You caressed his cheek with your thumb, gently. He closed his eyes, a content smile playing on his lips. So you kept doing circles on his skin, your thumb grazing the edge of his cheekbone and the corner of his mouth. A little tilt of his head and suddenly he was kissing your thumb - then sucking on it. It was sensual, slow, worse than you could have ever imagined. He let go of your finger and then his hands pulled you gently so that he was kneeling right in front of you.

"Carmy," you pleaded.

"Is this okay?" he ran his fingers up and down your legs, tickling behind your knees, making you shiver.

"Yes," you laughed nervously. "It's okay."

"Okay," he repeated with a smile.

And he started kissing. Your knee, your calf, the inside of your leg - he took your shoes off as he went. Then his hands moved up, underneath your skirt, anchoring at the elastic of your tights. Your hand was now on the nape of his neck, tangling in his curls, scrunching out the gel. He pulled down your tights, his lovely hands caressing every inch of skin on the way down. You hummed at the feeling.

"I really like your hands," you said.

"Yeah?" Carmy huffed - his exhale on your skin sent a shiver down your spine. "Is it the tattoos?"

"Mmm," you hummed. "Yeah. I think I'd still like them without the tattoos, though."

You took his hands from the back of your thighs, really feeling them, the callouses and veins, the long fingers - and guided them up again, hiking your skirt up, hovering above your underwear. He followed your lead, taking it off, leaving you bare and grabbing handfuls of skin as he did. He had been careful so far but he grew desperate. Before you knew it, his hands were on your ass and his face was on your belly, taking deep inhales, like he couldn't get enough. His face went lower and lower, like he was melting into you. He reached the place between your hips and you gasped. You were just about to say some breathy quip about not expecting guests and maybe apologizing for not doing housekeeping but he seemed happy enough with what he found, kissing all over, humming against your skin. You writhed in his hold.

"Still good?" he asked, his mouth dangerously close to where you needed him most. Your nails scratched at his scalp.

"Jesus, Carmen," you moaned. "Yes, good. So good."

And he proceeded to devour you. His tongue was eager between your folds, his nose kept bumping over and over against your clit, his knees where wedged between your legs to keep them open enough. One of your hands played with your breasts over your shirt while the other was intertwined with one of Carmy's, keeping you anchored.

"Fuuuuuck," you moaned. His hand held tighter to yours, reassuring that he wasn't going anywhere. You weren't quite sure how he was breathing, his face was so deeply buried into you. He shook his head slightly and you screamed. "Don't stop. Please- Don't- Carmy," you begged nonsensically.

He picked up the pace, his tongue relentless and his face shaking wildly - his nose on your clit was making you see stars. You barely contained the impulse to outright grind against his beautiful face.

"I'm so fucking close, please," you could hardly recognize your voice as you moaned louder and came harder than you ever had.

Your knees buckled under you, and Carmy held on with strong arms, lowering you gently onto his lap until you were both kneeling on the floor. You circled his shoulders with your arms, breathing hard.

When you finally came down from your high, you shifted in his embrace to look at him. He was staring at you in wonder, his face an absolute mess. You kissed him with all your might, with all the months of pining and weeks of not knowing. His tongue tasted tangy but the way he was humming into your mouth and holding you close made you feel you were the best thing he had eaten in that kitchen.

You kept on kissing for a while and he seemed content to just let you catch your breath even though you could feel him achingly hard inside his trousers.

"Please tell me you have a condom in your pocket," you said half-joking. You didn't want to move or let go of him, and you needed him inside you.

"I really didn't think I'd need one today," he chuckled, kissing your neck, making a sinful path down to your collarbone, working the buttons of your shirt until you were only wearing your bra. You thanked your lucky stars that it was a black lace number that made him widen his eyes and bite his lip. "Jesus."

You blushed under his gaze. "Your turn," you prompted, tugging at his shirt, feeling him solid under your palms.

He got rid of his shirt and your eyes wandered over the muscle on his arms and shoulders. He was broad - broader than he looked under his clothes and you wanted to touch all of him, to rake your nails on his strong back.

"I have condoms in my bag," you heaved. "I'm not sure I can stand right now though."

"I'll go," he offered. He kissed your cheek and carefully put you on your back. "I'll be right back."

You sighed and closed your eyes. He was quick to return, the moment you opened your eyes he was hovering above you, his hair tickling your forehead.

"I thought about this," you blurted out in your fucked out state.

"Really?"

You had never seen him smile as much as he had in the past hour. You felt adored and precious.

"A little," you shrugged, faking indifference, but you opened your legs wide to let him get closer. "Wondered how you'd look from this angle."

"So?" he prompted.

You were encased between his arms, everywhere you looked there was sculpted, tattooed skin. It was thrilling and comforting - fitting for Carmy, for the contradictions he contained.

"It's a very nice view," you replied, biting on your lip. Your hands traveled south, helping him out of his trousers, then palming him over his boxer briefs. He growled.

"Can I-" he showed you the condom he had retrieved from your bag. "I just feel that if you keep doing that I'm not going to last."

"Carm, you can do literally anything you want right now," your voice was breathy. He could. Not that he'd abuse that privilege - you trusted him so fucking much it scared you sometimes.

He got rid of his underwear and rolled the condom on. Next time, you would take a good look - and have a taste if he was into that.

"Should I be worried about whoever you were planning on using this with?" he asked tossing away the condom wrapper. His voice was small and it disarmed you.

"There's no one else," you reassured him, running your fingers through the hair on his temples. "I just like to be prepared."

"I do like that about you," his hands were gentle as he grabbed your knees and opened your legs wider. "Like so much about you."

You would ask later, right now you were occupied with the feeling of him lining up against your entrance, teasing just enough, then going all the way in one slow, delicious thrust.

"Oh, God," you mewled.

"You feel-" he moved back then forwards again, slow, torturous, making you writhe on the floor. "Jesus, fuck!"

He started moving faster, his hair dancing just how you imagined, but this was better than any of your intrusive fantasies. You could actually feel the expanse of his back under your hands, dig your nails in it as his rhythm built up. The sound of his moans and the slap of skin on skin turned you on even more. The feeling of his breath on your lips made you feel like you were about to leave your own body from pleasure alone. Your ankles locked behind him, keeping him near.

"Are you- Are you close?" his question was followed by an animalistic growl. One of your hands started circling your clit, echoing his rhythm - you wanted to come with him. Every thrust dug into the depths of you and took your breath away.

"So close," your moans sounded in unison. "So close, Carmy."

You came in a blur of white and warmth. As soon as you started fluttering against him, he followed. He kept going messily until your moans of pleasure turned into slow purrs of contentment. He collapsed on top of you and you held him close to your chest, caressing his hair and his back. He slipped out of you and you immediately missed the feeling of him.

"I'll fuck you on the counter as soon as I can get up again," he promised.

You rubbed your thighs together in anticipation.

"Please do."

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