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#i had the vivid urge to do this
dyketubbo · 18 days
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its such a pain trying to navigate being critical of the psychiatric field as it is today because ill nod along to a post talking about how psych wards are horrible and so many therapists and mental health professionals are actually just downright awful and make their patients mental health works and then ill look in the notes and see people go like yesssss and medication is terrible and we should just get help Instead like. um. in an ideal world youd get both buddy. im sorry but even in a better world where society doesnt make you want to kill yourself all the time and your therapist actually listens to you you will also likely still have to take that medication
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apollo-zero-one · 3 months
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Too old to be a kid too young to be an adult just the right age to cry myself to sleep
#every day I want to give up and go back to my mom's house and apologize for leaving#I'm still powerless here but this is unfamiliar. at least I knew what to expect there#I still had people to avoid and I still didn't want to leave my room but at least I knew I wouldn't be kicked out if I broke a rule#I'm so scared and so sad and I feel so small and so alone#all I want is a home that is mine that I can feel safe and secure in that I can retreat to that I can have power in#All I want is the safety ans security to take a break and to take care of myself#I want to be able to focus on my health for a little while my mental health is so so bad and my stupid brain has realized that I only get#help when it's visible so whenever my mental health gets bad like this I have these constant terrible urges to tear myself apart#The ideas are so vivid and so constant I want to tear my skin to ribbons and break all of my bones and gouge my eyes out and bite my tongue#I want to claw up my face and bite off my fingers and snap each of my ribs#I get phantom aches all over and my body is so tense and wound up and my heart beats so hard for hours and hours#I want to slam my head into a brick wall until something cracks and I hate myself I hate myself for this I hate myself for my selfishness#and for my weakness and for my existence and I want to vomit up my guts and I want my suffering to be real and treatable#I want someone to save me from myself. I want the pain to go away. But there isnt pain is there because its all in my head#I'm doing this to myself just like I have my entire goddamn life. My mom says I was born in pain and cried nonstop for a whole year. Then I#grew out of it and I was perfect. except no I wasn't because I wrote big long notes in phonetic spirals about how I deserve to die.#isn't that a sign?? Isnt that a sign?? i was born this way and things will never get any better they will only change and change and change#and still hurt in ways that I cant prove that I will second guess because maybe they aren't real and I'm just stupid useless helpless weak#when I bleed I can ask someone for a bandaid. when I... exist like this. I can't ask for anything. What helps? What helps? nothing really.#being useless helps until it doesn't. I have to work to pay for the chemicals that barely help. Why do innocent people die every day and not#me. when I pray for it. When I beg. And I'm not afraid to walk alone at night because NOTHING BAD EVER HAPPENS TO ME. Because I'm so lucky.#Soooo lucky. it isnt fair. She deserves it more than me. who? pick. anyone. Someone who wants it. Maybe who I could have been if I were#better. Not me. I dont get hurt. I dont get lost. I dont die. Maybe I cant maybe I never will. I'm more afraid of having to live like this.#My life is always on the line of not quite not quite and I never need help and I always need help and I'm never enough and I'm average.#the standard. the center. Above me dont need and below me do and I? What do I? both. neither. I shouldn't exist. It hurts to exist like this#in between. I should be able to do this myself. I'm the worst player on the best team and the best player on the worst and I don't fit in#either and everyone hates me for being one or the other and I can never be better so I want to be worse and thats my whole life in one#sentiment. I'm always at the bar and I can never get over it. I've been begging forever please lower your expectations I cant do better than#this. so I'll do worse. I'll make myself worse. I deserve it anyway. I'll be more scars than skin and more pain than person and then maybe#I'll belong somewhere god fucking knows even if its a padded room I could belong somewhere.
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onlyswan · 10 months
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summary: in which jungkook’s new lip piercing makes you want to cry, and he can’t live without you.
> established relationship, fluff / word count: 1.4k
> warnings: mention of or*l (f. receiving)
> in which masterlist!
note: heh surprise :D my impulsive, jungkook lover brain couldn’t resist so here’s a little something 🥲
“why are you looking at me like that?” jungkook nervously asks as the excited beam lighting him up gradually fades. “do you not like it?”
you remain speechless with an unreadable expression written on your face. dumbly staring at the lower right corner of his lips, it is adorned with yet another piercing that makes your boyfriend appear more enchantingly attractive in your eyes — which are, by the way, currently blurry and dazed. your brain is still fuzzy around the edges, short circuiting the longer you observe the silver stud.
it infuriates you, almost, how he still manages to effortlessly drive you crazier for him five years later.
it’s extremely rare for you to fall asleep before 10pm, and to be frank, you hate him for waking you up because you know you won’t be able to go back to sleep until 3am no matter how tired you are. and you’re still not quite certain if you’ve already registered that your consciousness has been rudely pulled back into reality; because then again, you’ve always been obsessed with his lip ring, maybe unhealthily so, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to assume that you’d dream of him surprising you with a new piercing just beside it.
however, there is a particular reason that holds you back from strongly wishing for that to come true.
“but you loved the ring, even the eyebrow ones… did i pick an ugly placement this time?” he wonders out loud with a frown, confused that his surprise didn’t receive the type of reaction he expected.
when he tries hard enough, he can picture them vivid enough to draw from memory… your eyes glittering with awe and adoration each time he presented himself with a new piercing or tattoo. you, showering him with love and praises that erased every ounce of anxiety he had about his life-altering decisions that usually came in the aftermath. what others would call impulsiveness, you named his fearless self-expression.
“ow- ouch- baby! what the hell? what was that for?”
with doe eyes struck by headlights, he gapes at you in surprise as he rubs his poor shoulder that was slapped without warning.
“why did you get it there? we’re not allowed to make out again until it’s healed!” you pettily complain with a drawn-out whine, knees bumping against his thighs as you bounce your crossed legs in bitter vexation.
“oh, shit.”
in real time, you witness the realization comically dawn on jungkook’s face, flabbergasted that in the thick haze of his excitement, he forgot about this excruciating restriction during the extended healing process. in his defense, it’s been forever since he got his first lip piercing.
oh, he’s in so much trouble.
he stares back at you, frozen and unblinking as he slowly speaks with a guilty wince. “ahh, you’re right… i must be out of my mind… i can’t eat you out, too… fuck, how did i survive this back then?”
the genuine innocence lacing his voice only fuels your urge to curl into a ball and cry in frustration. yearning for his touch while he’s not physically present is one thing, but this is much, much worse.
“stop talking.” you glare at him, angry eyebrows contrasting the puffiness of your face caused by sleep.
“you’re so adorable.” the endearing sight elicits a breathy chuckle from him, followed by a small whimper triggered by the pain that spreads on the lower part of his face immediately after. he brushes it off without care, muttering quietly- “come here.”
he carefully guides you to sit on his lap, sinking further into the soft mattress with your weight added on top of him. and for tonight, you allow him to manhandle you as he likes, not having the energy to jokingly pretend to argue with him. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull yourself closer to him, only realizing how much you’ve missed him now that you’re skin-to-skin.
“don’t be upset, baby. i’m sorry.” he sweetly coaxes you into a better mood. “i will make it up to you after. i promise. i always do, right?”
with drowsy eyes still trained on the new jewelry that shines from the light of the night lamp, you sniffle and pout at him.
“and we can still do this, remember?”
the world becomes still and quiet, and the oxygen gets trapped in your lungs when jungkook holds your face in between his warm hands, crossing the short distance between you. your eyelids slowly flutter shut, lashes kissing your cheeks as his lips softly brush against yours. languid and tender, slightly sticky from your sleeping mask that smells like candy. he ends the blissful moment too soon with a gentle pucker of his lips, leaving you with a simple peck that will haunt your mind for the weeks to come, as if you’re a teenager who just had their first kiss in the middle of the dance floor.
“hmm, see, baby? not bad?” he says quietly, pads of his thumbs tenderly stroking the apple of your cheeks.
jungkook is too persuasive for his own good. the memories of you suffering last time are clouded with the new sweet memory he just orchestrated, and you’re almost convinced that it truly might not be that bad after all.
“but we need to be veeery careful like that for now, understand? so it’ll stop hurting and heal fast.”
and just like that, you’re a little more awake.
“does it hurt a lot? did you bleed a lot?”
hearing him say that he’s in pain made you worriedly react within a split second. his heart melts, and then breaks into two as he gathers all the self-control in his body not to pepper your face with kisses like he usually does.
“the piercer was good and quick, i didn’t feel a thing. but i’m definitely feeling something now.” he shakes his head, uttering the last sentence humorously.
“of course, it hurts now. you won’t stop moving… let me see.” you scold him with a roll of your eyes, slightly turning his head by the back of his ear to have a better view of the swollen flesh around the piercing.
“how is it doing?” he inquires after a few beats, curious and impatient with your silence.
and that’s when he sees that look on your face, the glittering eyes he was anticipating to meet since he finished his appointment the morning before. you grin from ear to ear, scrunching your nose cutely before giggles bubble from your chest. sheepish with your transparent delight, you hide your face in the crook of his neck, tickling him with your every exhale.
“my boyfriend is so cool, and so handsome. i’m so lucky and proud.”
that’s him. that could only be him.
jungkook, despite being elated by the compliments, can only muster a small shy smile. he carresses your hair lovingly, securing his tattooed arm around you as you threaten to slip off from his lap.
“really?”
“hm, i like it. so much…” you hum, planting a chaste kiss to the sensitive spot on his neck. “you’re always putting me through this, making me want to kiss you more all the time. this is so unfair.”
“baby, please. behave for me?” he mutters, squeezing his eyes shut as if he’s in unmaginable pain. in his dramatic mind, currently flooded with love chemicals, he is. “if you keep talking like that, i will really end up risking an infection.”
you lift up your head to show him a grimace of disgust. “ew, pull it together. i wouldn’t want to kiss you with that.”
“tsk, you’re such a brat.” he calls you out with a pointed look, lightly smacking your thigh, revealed by your shorts that has further ridden up, before kneading the soft flesh under his large palm to soothe it.
you teasingly stick out your tongue in response, breaking out into laughter. and not so subtly, you squeeze your thighs together, grasping his wrist in a futile attempt to control the frenzied butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
“have you cleaned it?”
“not yet.”
“then let’s do it. i’ll help you.” you climb off his lap as you eagerly tug at his arm, planting your feet firmly on the ground. “love, hurry- hurry. i want to see it in better lighting.”
exhausted after an eventful day, jungkook limply flops down, occupying the side of the bed that you’ve kindly warmed up. “you can go ahead. i’ll follow you after five minutes.”
“ugh, no, you won’t. you’ll fall asleep if you keep your eyes closed for another thirty seconds, and then i’ll have to wake you up.”
he pops one eye open, and then another, meeting your affectionate gaze with a silly grin because damn, you know him so well.
“i love you… don’t ever leave me. i think i’d seriously die without you.”
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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hoshifighting · 3 months
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Okay... But what if Y/n tells his best friend, Wonwoo, since highschool that she wants to join as a stripper as a joke. But then Wonwoo asks her to do a sexy dance in front of him, and Y/n played along, dancing, stripping naked in front of him and rode his lap with him still wearing shorts, until Wonwoo couldn’t hold back and fucked her hard.
Warnings: Smut, lap dance, reader jokes ab being a stripper (all respect to the profession), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, best friends, stripping.
Word Count: 2k
It was a typical Friday evening, and you found yourself lounging on the couch with your best friend, Wonwoo. The two of you had been inseparable since high school, forming an unlikely but unbreakable bond. Wonwoo, with his quiet demeanor, was the yin to your yang. While he navigated life with a calm and collected approach, you were the unabashed extrovert, always seeking excitement.
As the evening progressed, you couldn't resist the urge to stir the pot a bit. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you turned to Wonwoo and blurted out, "Hey, Wonwoo, you know what I've been thinking lately?"
"What's on your mind, Y/n?" Wonwoo replied, his eyes reflecting curiosity.
"I was thinking of becoming a stripper."
Wonwoo's face immediately furrowed in confusion, his eyebrows knitting together. He blinked a few times, processing the unexpected revelation. You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he struggled to comprehend your words.
"Wait, what? A stripper?" Wonwoo finally managed to articulate, his voice laced with bewilderment.
You chuckled at his reaction, fully aware of the stark contrast between your outgoing nature and Wonwoo's reserved personality. "Nah, Wonwoo, it's just a joke! Can you imagine me on a stage, dancing in front of strangers?"
His furrowed brow deepened as he tried to process the information. "You...want to be a stripper as a joke?"
"Yeah!"
Wonwoo let out a sigh of relief, his furrowed brow relaxing. "You scared me there for a moment. I couldn't picture you doing something like that."
The truth is, Wonwoo was a fucking liar.
However, deep down, Wonwoo couldn't deny the vivid image that flashed in his mind at your mention of becoming a stripper. The mental image of you dancing around a pole in skimpy clothing lingered, creating an unexpected tension in the room. He quickly brushed aside the intrusive thoughts, trying to focus on the conversation.
You noticed the subtle shift in his demeanor and couldn't help but tease him. "Oh, come on, Wonwoo. Are you sure you can't picture it? I bet I'd be the star of the show!"
Wonwoo's cheeks flushed slightly as he awkwardly coughed, attempting to dispel the lingering mental image. "No, Y/n. Let's not even entertain that idea. It's just not you."
With a sly grin, you turned to him and asked, "Wait, are you saying I'm not hot enough for that kind of job, Wonwoo?"
Wonwoo's eyes widened as he frantically shook his head. "No, no! That's not what I meant at all!"
But his reddening cheeks and ears told a different story. You couldn't help but revel in the mischief, adopting a mischievous expression. "Oh, I see. So, you do think I'm hot?"
Wonwoo stammered, trying to backtrack, "I-I didn't say that. I just meant, um, it's not something I could imagine you doing. Not because of how you look!" His eyes darted away, and he mumbled, "Well, I mean, you're... You're pretty, very pretty."
He couldn't help but attribute his discomfort to more than just the thought of you pole dancing—it was the unspoken crush he harbored on you. Each playful comment seemed to amplify his self-consciousness, making him acutely aware of the feelings he kept under wraps.
Attempting to steer the conversation away from the provocative topic, you chimed in, "You know, it's not like I genuinely want to be a stripper. But I've always thought it would be fun to dance for someone, you know? Just to let loose and have a good time."
Wonwoo's eyebrows shot up, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of surprise at your revelation. The notion of you wanting to dance for someone, while not necessarily in a provocative way, fueled his imagination, igniting a subtle curiosity.
"Oh, really?" he responded, his voice betraying a hint of intrigue. "Dance for someone, like, just casually?"
You nodded, a playful glint in your eyes. "Yeah! I mean, not in a professional setting, but just dancing for someone special. It sounds like it could be a lot of fun, don't you think?"
Wonwoo's mind raced, grappling with the newfound information. His gaze focused on you, and with a hesitant smile. "Hey, Y/n," he began, his voice softer than usual, "you mentioned wanting to dance for someone. Would you... uh, would you mind dancing for me?"
He fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve, his cheeks tinged with a subtle blush.
Your eyebrows raised in surprise, and a playful grin formed on your lips. "Oh, really? Wonwoo, are you asking me for a dance?"
"Well, you know, you mentioned it, and I thought it might be... nice. I mean, if you're comfortable with it."
You couldn't help but find his shy request endearing. "Sure, Wonwoo. But you have to promise not to laugh at my moves. I can't promise they'll be any good."
Wonwoo chuckled nervously, "I'm sure you'll be great."
Your hands found the hem of your shirt, and with a playful grin, you tossed your clothing aside, letting it land somewhere in the living room. Wonwoo's eyes widened behind his glasses, focusing on your exposed tits, his usually composed demeanor giving way to a hint of surprise and curiosity.
His voice came out as a soft whisper, "Does this... does this make part of the dance too?"
You simply nodded, your own confidence shining through. "Of course!"
The room was filled with the sultry beat of the music as you continued to move, your hands gracefully making contact with your body. Wonwoo couldn't tear his eyes away, the subtle allure of the moment captivating his senses. The dancing became a mesmerizing display, the connection between you and Wonwoo growing hotter with each passing moment.
As the music's tempo intensified, you decided to take it a step further. With a bold move, you gracefully moved to sit on Wonwoo's lap, your dance becoming more provocative. His breath caught in his throat as your movements became a sensuous exploration, his heart pounding in his chest.
Your hips moved up and down, back and forth, and of course the bulge inside of his pants grew harder. Wonwoo, attempting to maintain a semblance of composure, let his hands find your hips. He tried to disguise the effect your movements were having on him, not wanting to make it obvious how affected he was. Your hips moved in a tantalizing rhythm against his, and Wonwoo felt a surge of lust that he struggled to conceal.
Unexpectedly, a low, sensual moan escaped your lips, hanging in the air like a shared secret. Wonwoo's ears caught the sound, and a jolt of awareness ran through him. Did he hear that right?
His hands instinctively pushed your hips down, a silent plea for you to continue. The dance resumed, and your hips moved deliciously against his. Wonwoo bit his lip, desperately trying to contain the desire that surged through him.
"Hm… Wonwoo…"
Wonwoo swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper, "Y/n."
In the blink of an eye, the delicate balance of composure that Wonwoo had been struggling to maintain shattered. His hand found its way to the nape of your neck, pulling you into a hungry, passionate kiss. The air crackled as your lips met, the tension between you finally finding release.
Wonwoo's free hand moved with a sense of urgency, grabbing your ass through the material of your shorts that still clung to your body. The touch was both possessive and hungry, his tongue fought yours, and your hips continued to grind on his dick.
Your hardened nipples were pressed on his chest, and he felt that, also, he felt your wetness soaking his pants through your shorts. His mouth found its way to your neck, leaving a trail of eager kisses. The soft touch of his lips sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but let out a soft gasp as his kisses ventured down towards your bust. His hands, now firmly gripping your tits.
He slowly guided you to lie on the couch. The air was thick with anticipation as his hands skillfully worked on the buttons of your shorts, his touch sending a cascade of sensations through your body.
With a deliberate slowness, he slid the clothing down your legs along with your panties. In the charged atmosphere of the room, as Wonwoo lowered his head closer to your thighs, you felt a sudden surge of impatience and need. Your hands gently pressed against his shoulders, halting his descent, and you looked into his eyes with a sense of urgency.
"Please, Wonwoo," you pleaded, your voice a breathy whisper. "Hurry, I need you."
His dark eyes met yours, the intensity of the moment reflected in the depths of his gaze. Understanding the urgency in your plea, Wonwoo's movements became more purposeful. With a swift motion, he aligned himself with your pussy, his pants and underwear also thrown around. 
The hot head of his cock rubbed against your entrance. He entered slowly so he didn't hurt you, since you didn't even want to wait for him to prepare you.  "How did you get so wet?" he asked, his voice laced with a mixture of wonder and desire.
Rolling your eyes in response, you could only manage a breathless murmur, "You," the single word encapsulating the effect he had on you. 
His cock stretched your walls perfectly, loving the fullness of Wonwoo, the initial discomfort giving way to a wave of pleasure. As Wonwoo's breath danced across your skin, his nose taking in the scent of your skin, a shiver ran down your spine. 
The throbbing length of his cock being squeezed by your wet walls, until his pelvis hits yours, a relief moan leaves your lips, as Wonwoo kisses your cheeks, his hips slowly starting to thrust into you. 
Your skin slapped together as he thrusted into you harder, making your body squirm under him. Meanwhile, Wonwoo admired the scene. How can a simple dance take him to paradise? He felt like he was seeing a work of art that some divine being had forbidden him from for so long.
Your breasts bounced with each thrust, your pussy making him wetter by the second, and your moans were driving him to the brink of an orgasm. "F-fuck Wonwoo yes! Right here!"
The explicit encouragement fueled a surge of energy within him, and Wonwoo, driven crazy by you, found the strength to respond. His movements became more purposeful, with a renewed vigor, he shifted your legs, pushing your knees toward your chest, deepening his cock inside of your pussy abusing the g'spot.
As you drooled from the corners of your mouth, the sheer pleasure and desire took over. In a breathless symphony, you cried out his name, as the climax overtook you, you felt yourself clenching uncontrollably around his cock, making him moan the loudest. 
Leaving an indelible mark on the couch beneath you, his cock throbbed inside of your pussy, the white hot spurts, being spilled inside of you, while you could only mumble his name softly enough to make him melt over you.
The air hung with a sense of ease and contentment as you found yourself still catching your breath, your voice reduced to a soft murmur of his name. Wonwoo, lying atop you, he couldn't help but savor the tender sound.
"Mmm, Wonwoo," you whispered, the quiet intimacy in your voice reflecting the connection between you two.
He stayed nestled on top of you, his weight providing a comforting support as you both recovered. Wonwoo looked into your eyes, a gentleness in his expression that hadn't surfaced before. "You know," he started, a playful glint in his eyes, "I think I want you to dance for me more often."
A genuine laugh escaped your lips, pleasantly surprised by his unexpected comment. "Oh, really? You enjoyed the show that much, Wonwoo?"
He nodded, his cheeks sporting a subtle blush. "Yeah, it was...unexpected, but I liked it. A lot."
Unable to resist a bit of teasing, you reveled in the sight of a more playful and confident Wonwoo. "So, you're saying you want a private dance performance on demand?"
Wonwoo's shy demeanor returned, but this time, accompanied by a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Maybe...just a little. It was...nice."
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mingwrites · 11 days
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ateez as incubi
seonghwa ~ in your sleep, you had the most vivid and pleasurable dream of your life. you had a mysterious man between your legs, face buried in your pussy, clit between his lips. upon waking up, the fantasy didn’t end. you stirred hazily, moaning at the imagined sensation in your clit. it became a little too vivid, however, when you felt a long tongue slither inside of you. you looked down, seeing that the man was real, and he was still working your pussy dutifully. you knew you should have felt scared, but somehow the only thing you said was, “don’t stop.” this caused the man to chuckle against you. “don’t you worry, doll,” he said, “you’re so delicious, i’ll never get enough.”
hongjoong ~ when you awoke from your restless sleep, you had tears running down your cheeks. there was a sheen of sweat across your body and a dull throbbing between you legs. at first everything was hazy and confusing, but then you heard your demon’s voice break the silence of the night and it all came together. “what’s wrong, little baby?” he mocked from your bedside where he pervertedly observed your plight. “do you need me so bad? these fingers, this dick? tell me how much you need me.”
yunho ~ you woke up to your walls being stretched open by something ice cold. you realized it didn’t hurt because you were already soaking wet somehow. then you realized the handsome man slowly materializing on top of you, eyes locked on yours, hips sliding carefully closer. you groaned as he filled you up entirely, hands moving with a mind of their own as they reached to hold onto the man’s shoulders. “it’s so big,” you moaned. the man smirked, hips beginning to fuck in and out of you. “you know, i can make it even bigger, if you think this little pussy can handle it.”
yeosang ~ you were grinding against your mattress, a rhythmic flow of moans and whimpers echoing in your room as you dreamt of yeosang. in your dream, he was all over you - tongue down your throat, face in your pussy, and dick pounding into your soaking heat. “there you go,” dream yeosang whispered, “make yourself feel good, my darling.” your eyes slowly opened and for a moment you were utterly disappointed about losing your dream. that was, until you realized yeosang was lying right beside you, urging you on further, “don’t stop, baby, i want to see you make yourself cum.”
san ~ you opened your eyes when you heard a familiar voice filling your bedroom with sweet, soothing melodies. “sannie?” you called, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “good morning, sweetheart,” he smiled cheerfully. you smiled in return, but groaned when you felt a throbbing ache in your clit. “it hurts again,” you said. that pain always seemed to return when san stopped by to visit. “i know, angel,” he cooed, placing his icy cold hands on your thighs and rubbing them gently. “do you need sannie to take care of it for you?”
mingi ~ “get up,” a deep voice commanded, awaking you from your dreams. you shot up and scanned your bedroom for intruders. sure enough, he was there staring down at you, and he was mad. “mingi?” you said softly. “what’s wro-” he cut you off: “where have you been for the last week?” your heart sank. he was really mad. it struck no fear in you, just stirred up butterflies in your stomach. “i-i was on vacation, i’m sorry i forgot to tell you.” mingi scoffed. “vacation… you’ve been naughty for the last time, do you understand?” you couldn’t hold your smile back, thrilled for what mingi might have in store for your punishment.
wooyoung ~ the last thing you expected to see when you first opened your eyes was a dick inches from your face. but that’s what you got, and you weren’t complaining. “suck it,” wooyoung demanded. having just woken up, you were a little slow to register what was going on. getting impatient, wooyoung reached out to stroke your jaw, thumb landing on your chin and gently pushing your mouth open. “i said suck it for me, baby.”
jongho ~ you awoke when you heard someone calling your name in a singsong voice. you looked around your room expecting to see him there, but he wasn’t. “jongho?” you whispered. suddenly, there was a strong hand wrapped around your throat, pressing gently on your airway. you grabbed his wrist, and then he became visible. jongho was floating just above your mattress, staring intensely into your wide eyes. he lowered himself so he was straddling you and strengthened his grip around your neck. “please,” he scoffed, “don’t look so scared. i can smell how wet you are from here.”
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alwaysmoncheri · 2 months
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and jason have a complicated relationship, but when you find yourself in a troubling situation, jason just happens to be your emergency contact
𝐜𝐰: female!reader, minimal swearing, sexual assault, cat calling, assault, violence, 1.5k, jason todd x reader
<3
midnights in gotham city smell distinctly of blood. the dark streets are littered with corpses of victims who stain the rubble red. crime is high and murder remains rampant among the homeless people living on the streets. you know walking home alone at this hour alongside the hundreds of criminals that hide in the shadows is a terrible idea. but your shift at the library ran late tonight and you had no other means of transportation, hence the reason why you find yourself alone in a dark alley far from the comfort and safety of your apartment.
the faint footsteps of desperate strangers lurk behind you, the sound echoes through the night, and your skin crawls with anticipation of what’s to follow. nothing good comes from the situation that you’ve found yourself in and that’s what brings you to pull out your phone and tap on the first contact that pops up on your screen.
jason.
your relationship with jason is complicated. like most things in your life you suppose. but jason is the only one who’s almost always by your side. maybe that’s part of what possessed you to click on his name on your phone and bring it up to your ear with trembling fingers.
“hey, sweet—”
“jason, I think i’m being followed.” you breathe out quickly and you don't dare to peek so much as a glance behind you.
“shit. hang on, babe. just—”
jason's voice, laced with urgency, cuts through the tense night as the echo of your footsteps intensifies. the sounds of the desolate alley amplify, creating an eerie symphony of fear and impending danger.
“i’m so scared, jay,” your shaky voice reaches jason, carrying the weight of dread as if it were a tangible thing. in response, jason's voice becomes a soothing anchor, his words a balm to your frayed nerves.
“hey, it’s okay, sweetheart. tell me where you are,” jason's voice, steady and reassuring, breaks through the chaos. your breath catches as you fumble to provide your location, the darkness of the alley making every detail obscure.
“I don’t know, I think in an alley near the corner of 5th and main. I thought it would be quicker. jason, please hurry,” desperation seeps into your words, painting a vivid picture of the peril you find yourself in.
“just hang on, i’m on my way,” jason's promise becomes a lifeline, a lifeline you desperately clutch onto. the plea, "don’t hang up, please don’t hang up," echoes through the phone, the fear of losing that connection palpable.
“I won’t, honey. just keep telling me what’s going on, okay?” jason's voice is a steady stream of reassurance, a counterpoint to the mounting chaos.
your breath quickens as you confess, "there’s multiple, jay."
“multiple what? sweetheart, talk to me,” jason's concern deepens, the gravity of the situation reflected in the intensity of his inquiry.
“people, there’s multiple people. they’re still following me, and I can’t lose them,” your voice quivers, painting a chilling image of the shadows closing in.
“i’m almost there, okay? just hang on a little longer, can you do that for me?” jason’s words are a beacon of hope, urging you to endure the storm just a little while longer.
“they’re getting closer. shit,” panic infuses your voice as the chase intensifies. jason senses the urgency, a quiet determination in his response.
the abrupt cut-off and your distressed cry for help and jason’s call to you, "y/n!?" mark the harrowing turn. the phone, a lifeline moments ago, is silenced by a crushing foot, an audible confirmation of the looming threat.
“looks like your boyfriend isn’t going to make it, gorgeous,” a sinister voice taunts, the malevolence palpable in the dimly lit alley. the struggle intensifies, and your defiant words ring through the night.
“get off of me, you creep!” your voice is a mix of fear and defiance, a visceral response to the encroaching menace.
“watch your tone, sweetie,” a chilling warning hangs in the air as they pin you down. the confrontation takes a dark turn as you spit in their faces, a desperate act of resistance.
“such a shame that’s what you’re using such a pretty mouth for,” a sinister chuckle underscores the dehumanizing intent, leaving a bitter taste in the tense air.
“that’s alright, we don’t want you for your mouth anyway,” a chilling statement, a precursor to unspeakable horrors, hangs over the alley.
in the clash of desperation and violence, the air changes as jason, your vigilante savior, descends upon the scene like a guardian angel emerging from the shadows. the sounds of a fierce struggle ensue, muffled grunts and the scuff of boots on concrete. with a swift, powerful intervention, the men are knocked out and when they loosen their grip you sink to the ground with defeat and despair. you don’t even notice you’re crying until jason gently prys your hands from your face and rubs your tears away with the rough thumb of his leather glove
then, in one swift motion, jason's strong, reassuring arms envelop you, pulling you into an embrace that feels like sanctuary. relief washes over you, grounding you in the reality of his protective presence.
“it's okay, sweetheart. you're safe now,” jason's voice, previously a lifeline over the phone, now echoes directly into your ear, a soothing melody that erases the lingering echoes of fear. his words are a healing balm, mending the wounds of terror inflicted upon your psyche.
the dimly lit alley transforms from a nightmare into a haven under the watchful gaze of your friend. the tension in your shoulders eases, and the erratic beat of your heart gradually steadies as you bask in the warmth of his reassuring touch.
“i've got you, y/n. you're safe,” jason whispers, the warmth of his breath against your ear a soothing balm to the wounds inflicted by fear. the resonance of those words sinking deep into the recesses of your shaken soul. his presence is a shield against the haunting memories of the alley, a reassurance that the nightmare is over.
the shattered phone lies forgotten, a casualty of the struggle, as jason continues to shield you from the residual fear. he tilts your chin up gently, meeting your eyes with an unwavering gaze that speaks volumes of his commitment and protective instinct.
“let's get you home,” jason murmurs, his fingers tenderly brushing away a stray strand of hair from your face. together, you navigate the now-quiet alley, the looming threat replaced by the solid ground beneath your feet and the reassuring touch of the person who faced the darkness on your behalf.
as you approach the familiar comfort of your apartment, jason's protective hold lingers. “are you okay?” he asks, his voice a gentle murmur that eases the residual tension in your body. you nod against his chest, words escaping you as relief and gratitude flood your senses.
the apartment door closes with a muffled thud, shutting out the ominous whispers of the night. jason, ever watchful, guides you towards the bathroom. the soft hum of the overhead light bathes the space in a gentle glow, revealing the porcelain sink and mirror.
you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror – disheveled, eyes wide with residual fear. without a word, jason turns on the faucet, letting the water flow until it reaches a soothing warmth. his fingers graze yours, urging you to lean over the sink.
the splashing water echoes in the small room as jason's hands cup and scoop, the liquid cascading over your face. the feel of his fingers against your skin is both tender and firm, each touch a cleansing ritual that washes away the remnants of the night.
you glance up into the mirror, meeting jason's eyes. there's an unspoken understanding as his hands move methodically, the cool water providing a refreshing contrast to the heated intensity of the ordeal. the sensation is grounding, a simple act of care that transcends words.
as you straighten up, a vulnerability lingers in your gaze. you turn off the faucet, and the silence hangs in the air. the wet droplets cling to your skin, a tangible reminder of the shared intimacy in this simple act of cleansing. jason's hands linger on your face, his fingers tracing a silent promise. the air in the bathroom holds a charged stillness, the transition from fear to intimacy palpable.
the urgency of the night lingers in your eyes. “stay, jason, please,” the plea escapes your lips, a raw, desperate plea that echoes in the confined space of the bathroom. his gaze meets yours, and for a moment, the weight of the world seems to shift.
there's a pause, a heartbeat suspended in time, before jason's expression softens. his agreement is wordless, a nod that carries the promise of a shared refuge in the night.
the journey from the bathroom to the bedroom is taken in tandem, the touch of his hand on the small of your back a grounding force. the mattress welcomes you both, and the room is immersed in the soft glow of bedside lamps. the night unfolds with shared breaths and jason's hand finding yours.
“thank you.” you whisper to him under the sheets, the warmth of his body next to you radiating into your own, “thank you for protecting me.”
“i’ll always protect you, sweetheart.”
masterlist . jason todd masterlist . taglist
thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!
alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.
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jk66m · 10 months
Text
𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 (𝐬𝐧𝐢𝐩, 𝐬𝐧𝐢𝐩) ✁‧₊˚
— 𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧
Curious about how you would look in your own spider suit, you decided to buy one and show it off to your boyfriend. You had anticipated that Hobie would find it cute, but not in the way where he feels the urge to fuck you!
genre: smut
pairing: Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader
includes: Very vivid descriptions of sexual fantasies and acts, clothing cutting, a very horny Hobie, teasing, fucking partly clothed, praise kink, breeding kink (he does not actually want you to be pregnant, the idea just turns him on), Hobie likes to switch positions because he does not believe in consistency 🤭
EDITTED AND REUPLOADED (previously named ‘form fitting, dxck rising’)
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"-And I was just thinking I really wanted to know what it feels like, so I bought it from the store and- Hobie are you even listening?"
It is clear that he is not.
Ever since you entered the room with your new outfit, Hobie could not keep his eyes off your body. Not a single word you rambled about has entered his ears, as his head is filled with vivid fantasies of you.
He imagines your pair of lovely cherries, bared from a cut hole in your suit, mushed around and sliding across his standing erection. You weeping as you bounced off his cock, pussy visible from a hole that he cut out, and tits jiggling through that skin tight suit.
(Fuck, he soon realizes, he probably obtained a suit or suit-destruction kink somehow, if that is even a thing.)
Hands in his pockets, Hobie decides that it is time to put an end to his painful strain in the pants.
He stands up from the living room couch to stride towards you.
Once in front of you , he opens his mouth. Closes it again with a knowing smile. Then opens it again.
"Let's fuck."
When he is met with confused silence, he smiles again and pulls your wrists gently.
"Come on." Hobie leads you to the bedroom.
He sits on the bed and drags you onto his lap.
He webs a pair of scissors and your eyes open wide in shock as he cuts around the fabric on top of your chest.
"I've been staring at your tits the whole time," he explained, "They are so pretty, couldn't take my eyes off them."
After an oval hole has been made snugly around your breasts, Hobie drops the scissors and begins toying with your nipples. You whimper at the sensation and holds onto him for dear life. Soon, he replaces his fingers with his skilled tongue, and you let out a sob and lean against him even more.
Your begin to feel your eyes water and you gnaw your bottom lip.
Hobie smiles at the sight of your pleasured expression, satisfied with his work.
Once your peaks are both swollen and red, he stops then and motions you to present your hips towards him. You nod and slowly kneel onto the bed, jutting your hips high for the taking.
He carefully cuts a hole on top of your moist cunt, being sure not to do any damage to your soft skin.
Once it's all done, the scissors are thrown away and Hobie sticks two fingers right into you.
You gasp.
"Fuck, already so tight for me are you?" He taunts.
Tears of pleasure forms in your eyes as his fingers start to move in and out immediately, not giving you any time to react.
"Mmf~” you whimper through the sheets.
You can feel yourself growing wetter as the he continue, if that is even possible.
However your fulfillness is short-lived as he suddenly withdrawn his fingers. Shocked and disappointed at the sudden emptiness, you swooshed your head back and looked at him with teary disbelief.
Hobie smirks smugly and walks backwards until he reached the couch. As he sits down, he pats his lap and motions you to go there.
You sniff again before slowly getting up.
Your stand is unsteady, and your steps are heavy as you feel like you could fall at any moment.
Hobie watches with interest as you struggled to make your way towards him. A smile, almost proud-looking, lingering on his lips.
Once you finally reached the destination, you spread your legs and slide onto his thighs.
He immediately places his hands onto your legs and you jolt at the feeling of his calloused palms.
Hobie unbuckles his jeans and slide them down to reveal his standing erection.
Using one hand to stroke your cheek, he places the other onto your hips and guides you towards him.
"Sit on it.”
You look at him unsurely, but when he motions it again, you gradually start to position your hips above his cock.
You gasp when you feel your clit touches his tip, the sensation shaking you to the core.
You let out a slow breath as you begin to slowly sink down. You feel as if your bottom will be ripped from his sheer size and you look up to him, begging for help. You can't do this just by yourself.
But Hobie seems to be oblivious of your struggles, eyes closed in ecstasy, head tilted back as ragged sighs escaped from his lips. Only when he felt your movement stop completely did he begin to slowly push you down by himself.
Once your ass is sat onto his lap, he opens his eyes.
"Hmm, so desperate for my help aren't you?" He murmured teasingly.
You whine in return. You feel so full, so completed with him thrusted all the way into you.
Hobie stands and hoists your hips up in one smooth motion and begin walking towards the bed. You let out a small scream and clings onto him desperately.
Hobie lays you gently onto the sheets before climbing on himself. Kneeled on both sides of your legs and elbows framed around your face, he begins to rut into you in a fast pace.
Your breath quickens and you hold onto his sleeves tightly.
"Gonna cum soon." he gasped, his breaths short, "Gonna cum, and put a baby into you.”
You look up to him in surprise and blushes. Hobie smiles at your reaction and strokes the edges of your face.
"You liked that didn't you?" He asks quietly, "Such a dirty girl.”
His touches trails downwards, from your neck to the valley of your breasts, then to caressing your clothed stomach.
You are a sobbing mess by the time he has reached your clit.
He rolls the little nub between his fingers, magnifying your pleasure tenfold.
You vision drops and you shake as the both of you reached your highs.
You clench your fist into his sleeves and pull him close, feeling his heavy breaths on your neck.
Seconds later, Hobie pulls away and webs in a towel.
He daps your face and body, then does the same to his own, then the bed and couch. As Hobie threw the towel into the laundry bin you begin to sit up.
You examine yourself: Your newly-bought suit, now filthy, torn with holes, and filled with sweat and the smell of sex.
It's ruined completely.
Hobie watches your look of disappointment carefully, and pulls you into his arms.
"Don't worry, I already made a suit for you long time ago. A proper one"
You open your eyes wide and turn and look at him questioningly.
"It's a part of your birthday surprise. I thought it will be necessary for your protection in the future."
Still in a trance, you continue to stare.
"If you still want those store-bought suits though, I can get you another one of those-"
You stuff your face into his chest. Hobie smiles and hugs you close.
"I love you," you tell him quietly.
He chuckles.
"I love you too darling. Now come on, let's get you all cleaned up."
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hotchs-big-hands · 2 months
Text
Hey Bunny
Aaron Hotchner x plus-size fem!reader SMUT|10.7k words
MINORS DNI PLEASE
Hey everyone! Been a while since I’ve written a full coherent fic LMAO and here I bring the gift of lots of smut. Probably the kinkiest thing I’ve written to date, which I’ll list off in the warnings. This is all based off conversations I’ve had with 🖤 anon for a while :3 so I can’t take all the credit! I hope yawl enjoy this absolute FILTH 💅💅💅
After being woken up from a vivid erotic dream about your boss, who you’re currently on the last night of sharing a hotel room and bed with after a successful case, you’re more than reassured that it’s okay to have such dreams about him. And he’ll learn a bit more about you than he first thought.
Warning(s): light hurt/comfort, very brief mention of Foyet and what he did, so much sex, use of petnames, bunny kink, daddy/sir kink, erotic dreams, oral (both m/f giving and receiving), light gagging, pussy slapping, spanking, light humiliation, a lot of dirty talk in general, fingering, p in v penetration, body worship (both m/f giving and receiving), size kink, slight gaping, condom use, it's just kinky okay what can I tell you?
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It was not often enough for a case to end well in a way that allowed for you all to head out for a celebratory meal afterwards. But luckily for you all this time it most certainly had turned out better than anticipated in the end. The kidnapped victims had been found safely and the unsub was subdued with no casualties. Spirits were higher than they had been in the previous case and thus you all found yourselves sitting around a large table sharing a meal; Rossi's treat, of course.
The mood was certainly more rowdy tonight with the sounds of laughter bouncing around the table and cheerful chatter filled the atmosphere with a familial warmth. You were perching more to your left on your chair right now, engaging in the conversation with JJ and Emily with great enthusiasm, something that the two were raising a brow at, though you pretended not to notice. In truth, you were trying to avoid the man sitting on your right. Not for displeasure reasons, but quite the opposite in fact. Attempting to avoid brushing your leg or arm against your very sexy boss was the cause for your behaviour right now.
Aaron Hotchner had been your hotel room mate for the week, something that had been extremely difficult for you to cope with having as big of a crush on him as you did. You'd seen him in far less clothing than his standard neat, tight suits during the entire week as he slept in fitted tees and his underwear, although you suspected he didn't typically do that when he slept alone. It was a very bad idea to linger on those sorts of thoughts though…
JJ suddenly bumped into you, having been shoved by Emily at the climax of a funny story and you squeaked, jolting back and ultimately knocking against Aaron with a yelp.
"H-hey! You two, watch it!" You squeaked, earning a hearty laugh from the dark haired woman.
"Aww come on, it was an accident."
As you opened your mouth to retort, you felt a warm hand rest upon your right leg, just short of your large thigh, and you fought the urge to jolt again.
"Are you alright?" You heard the man beside you ask and you shivered. You didn’t want to look at him in fear of embarrassing yourself by ogling, but at the same time you didn’t want to be rude either. You turned your head in his direction and your breath escaped you when your eyes met his beautiful brown ones accidentally. His gaze was intense and yet kind and concerned. You offered a shy smile.
“I am y-yes. Don’t worry about me, we’re all just in good spirits tonight, sir.”
His brow raised slightly.
“Aaron.” He said. You blinked.
“Mm?”
“We aren’t working now, call me Aaron.”
Oh. You shifted in your seat and grimaced when the wood creaked slightly.
“Alright then, Aaron.” You chuckled to yourself, earning an increasingly perplexed expression on his face. To which you flustered and turned towards him more in your seat and waved a hand out in front of you. “I-I’m not laughing at your name! I’m just- it’s unusual for me to call you by your first name so I’m-“
Aaron’s delightful but sadly rare laugh cut you off and you were greeted with his cute dimples on his cheeks. Even the others stilled their conversation at the sound, but he didn’t appear to care to pay them any mind.
“Please, relax. You're fine, (Y/n).” He smiled, and you basked in the smoothness of his deep voice. You swore you were just imagining things when you felt his hand slightly slip upwards to your lower thigh and squeeze gently, nonetheless you shivered.
The hand remained on your leg right up until Aaron excused himself to visit the restroom whilst the rest of your group began shrugging your coats on ready to head back to the hotel. You felt flutters in your stomach and you fought off a nervous twitch of the corner of your mouth, something your dear friend and colleague Derek noticed.
“A little excited, huh?” He teased, waggling his expressive eyebrows at you. From his perspective you must have appeared like a deer in headlights, eyes wide and your mouth slightly agape.
“Wh- no! I’m tired, eager to go to sleep so we can fly home tomorrow.” You responded quickly as you straightened out your clothing and fastened your coat up.
“Mhm, sure you are.”
Emily was smirking at you when your head whipped round at the sound of her voice and one of her perfect brows was arched. You felt flushed, desperate to rush outside into the biting air of the night. Before you opened your mouth to retort back at her, you noticed her eyes flick over your shoulder and you knew he had returned.
“Ready to go?” Aaron addressed the group. There was a series of responses bounced around and you felt a hand lightly press to the small of your back. You jolted slightly, and met his gaze with a turn. “Shall we go?”
You could only nod. Vainly ignoring the pointed stares of your friends, you followed beside your unit chief as everyone exited the restaurant. You shivered slightly when the frigid wind hit your face, but you were grateful for the temperature change. The walk was short with the restaurant being located a few short blocks from the hotel and you found yourself in step with Emily and JJ, listening and chiming in with the plans they were putting together to have a girl’s night with your one only absent member of the team in the field; Penelope.
“You could stay over at my place at the end of the night out, if you wanted.” Emily said. You nodded and grinned, but JJ grimaced slightly.
“I’d be headed back home to my boys after. I wanna spend as much time with them as I can,” She spoke, then smiled smugly. “Aside from you lovely ladies, of course.”
The darker haired woman of the two huffed out a quiet laugh before the conversation died down when you came to a stop in front of the hotel’s elevator. You busied yourself with looking down at your phone when you felt the men from the team catch you all up and, with the opening of the doors, you all shuffled inside tiredly. You ended up towards the back wall, separated from Emily and JJ, and you briefly caught Emily’s eye. That smirk was present on her face again and you glanced away quickly, only to watch as your breathtaking unit chief squeezed between Derek and Spencer towards you. You couldn’t help your eyes widening slightly and your legs brushing against one another as he came to stand beside you. God, you needed to leave this damn elevator quickly. Slowly, the doors closed and you felt the movement of the elevator rising up to the floor Rossi was on. He, of course, had a room all to himself with the excuse of him being the oldest member of the team and therefore, needing his own space. The remainder of you all were on the floor above in doubles. And that was where your problem lay…
Just one more night, you thought to yourself. One more, then you could escape from the torture of sharing with Aaron Hotchner. Torture, as in sleeping on the only bed in the room; a queen, so close under the covers to the man who had taken up the entirety of your fantasies and erotic dreams. It hadn’t been easy, using the same shower he did, smelling his body wash and imagining it was in your shower at home instead. It was all too much for you and it made your thighs clench together. And while the case had been a good distraction from the full extent of your thoughts about the man, you didn’t have that now with it finished. Tonight was going to be the most tortuous of them all.
You followed behind Derek when the elevator stopped on your floor and you skittishly trekked down the corridor, unable to participate in conversation well. Your room was the first, and as Aaron unlocked the door, you watched helplessly as your friends bid you as much of a ‘good night’ as a pointed smirk that made you turn your back on them, cheeks burning. Seeing the door swung open, you mumbled a quick ‘thank you’ to him as you passed and Aaron followed, quietly closing the door behind you both and locking it again. You crossed the room to your side of the queen-sized bed and shyly perched on the edge to unfasten your shoes and kick them off.
“Do you want to take a shower first?” You heard Aaron say and you turned your body to look at him. Your breath hitched at the sight of him without his jacket on and one of his large hands was loosening the knot of his tie. You blinked a few times, trying to break your stare and you shook your head.
“Oh, no you can. Thank you, si- Aaron.”
Your cheeks flushed when he smirked at your self-correction and he hummed.
“Thanks. I’ll be quick.”
As he disappeared into the shower room with his change of clothes and towel, you flopped backwards on the bed with an exhale. One more night. Just one more and you would be free from accidentally embarrassing yourself or revealing your feelings in front of your boss. You didn’t know how you were going to sleep well tonight with nothing work-related to focus on now. No, instead your mind was fixated on the knowledge you had been sharing a bed with the man you thought about way too often, dreamt about too often, and gasped out the name of whilst you touched yourself when you definitely shouldn’t have been.
Sitting up again, you busied yourself with packing your bag as a distraction, leaving out your clothes for the journey home tomorrow. By the time you were finished, the door to the shower room swung open and Aaron walked out, rubbing his towel through his wet hair. Oh fuck.
With his arms stretched up, his more fitted black tee rode upwards and, to your delight and horror, the sexy softness of his lower stomach peeked out. You could spy the dark hair trailing from the top of his grey boxers and just below it-
“Shower’s all yours.”
You jolted at the sound of his voice and you grabbed your pyjamas and towel quickly, avoiding his gaze.
“T-thank you.”
When you heard the click of the lock, you began to tremble and buried your face in the fabric in your hands. God, you wanted to scream right now. Feebly, you hoped he hadn’t caught you staring at his physique just now but you weren’t so sure. It didn’t help that the scent of his shower gel and aftershave enveloped you in the steamy room. You clenched your thighs together and drew in a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself down enough to wash off the day. Stripping your clothes off and setting them down on the side of the sink top, not daring to look in the mirror too much at your plush body for you knew you’d see just how riled up you were right now.
The cold water of the shower did nothing to stifle the sensations between your legs, your pussy throbbed, yearning to be touched. You forbade it. Tomorrow, you thought. Not when the cause of your arousal was just the other side of the door. But even still you couldn’t resist rubbing your thighs together as the water cascaded down your curves and bumps. Eventually, you gave up and shut the water off and stepped out with your towel wrapped around your figure. You kept your touch feather-light as you dried yourself off and pulled your nightwear on, biting your lip and whimpering when the fabric brushed against the sensitive skin of your breasts and inner thighs. Drawing in a deep breath, you gathered your clothes up after finishing your nightly routine and exited out into the main room.
Aaron wasn’t in bed as you expected, rather standing by the hotel room’s desk with a casefile in hand. At the sound of your return he glanced up from the paperwork through his thick lashes. You swallowed thickly as you returned to your side of the bed again and bent over to stuff the last of your clothes into your bag. Behind you, Aaron cleared his throat and you straightened up quickly and climbed onto the bed, but he remained where he stood, now with his back to you still holding the file. You pouted.
“Si-Aaron, leave that for when we get back to the office. Or at least until we get on the plane,” You said as you peeled the covers back and settled under them. “Come to bed.”
“Making orders, are we?” The man retorted and you froze up, eyes wide in alarm when he turned slightly to look at you. His brows were furrowed, mouth pulled downward in a stern frown.
“A-Ah no! Just- I just thought you could do with an earlier night work-free tonight!” You squeaked, shifting on the bed ready to stand up again until he chuckled and flashed you a cheesy grin.
“I’m teasing you. I’m sorry, you’re right though. I’ll just be a moment, then I’ll be right over.”
You stared, blinking slowly as you processed what had just occurred, then a giggle bubbled out of you as you settled back against the pillows on your side. Aaron wasn’t really the type to tease anyone, and the way he said it to you was… well, sexy. Authoritative. You certainly would be thinking of that tomorrow when you finally returned home. But right now you had to get through this last night, somehow.
As he said, Aaron set the paperwork down after a few minutes and padded across the room to settle down on the bed. Attempting to distract yourself in the meantime, you were scrolling on your phone casually and forcefully willed yourself not to look at him when you felt the mattress dip under his weight settling next to you. As he shuffled under the covers, you reached over to your bedside table and set your phone down, then snuggled down against the pillows. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, so close to you that it was electrifying. Your body shuddered.
“Cold?” Aaron queried. Your toes curled.
“Y-yeah. I’ll warm up though.”
“Right. Let me know if you don’t though.”
“Will do.” You turned on your side, facing away from him as he reached for the light switch on the wall next to him. “Good night, sir.”
Aaron hummed.
“Sleep well, (Y/n).”
And somehow, you managed to drift off to sleep.
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“Mhm, come on now. Show daddy your pretty pussy.” Aaron said with a smirk, kneeling between your plump thighs as you dug your heels into the mattress.
You bit your lip, gazing up at his dishevelled appearance, his shirt unbuttoned the whole way and hanging from his shoulders to reveal the plains of his strong chest and soft pudge of his lower stomach. And below it was a prominent bulge pressed against the fly of his neat slacks, the sight making you shudder with need. Shyly, you grabbed your legs by the back of your knees and slowly pulled them apart, feeling your folds spread and the cool air of the room caressed your glistening slit. Aaron’s pupils dilated until his brown eyes appeared almost black and his hands came to grip onto the meat of your thighs, fingers digging in as he pulled them further apart to examine your throbbing clit and twitchy entrance. He groaned as a trail of juices trickled out of you, slowly disappearing between your ass cheeks before him.
“Yes… such a good girl for daddy. You want me to play with your pussy, huh?”
You rolled your hips eagerly, letting out a guttural whine.
“Please daddy, please!”
His smirk widened.
“Please, what?”
You whimpered as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.
“P-please play with my pussy, daddy! Need your fingers so badly!” You cried, rolling your hips again.
“Good girl.”
His hands brushed closer and closer to your slit until he suddenly pushed back the hood of your clit with his right thumb, exposing the bundle of nerves to him and eliciting a squeak. But as his other hand came to caress it your hips jumped, the pleasurable sensation intense already. He cooed.
“So sensitive and jumpy, like a cute little bunny.”
Your eyes widened and your body jolted with his words, making him let out a surprised chuckle.
“Oh? You like being called bunny, huh? Naughty girl.” He said and his hand came down fast and slapped your poor clit. You wailed, your grip on your legs tightening.
“D-daddy~!”
Your cheeks warmed, your lower belly coiling in embarrassment and arousal and he let out a breathy laugh again.
“Awww, is my little bunny embarrassed she liked that? How cute. Don’t worry though, daddy’s gonna take care of you…”
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Muffled sounds roused Aaron from his light slumber and he sat up quickly in alarm, reaching over to his bedside table- then he realised the covers were moving beside him. He cautiously turned to look over your side of the bed and his jaw clenched.
Writhing with the sheets kicked mostly off, you slept restlessly. A thin layer of sweat beaded on your forehead and your brows were creased. This was where the noise was coming from, Aaron thought as you whimpered quietly. A nightmare? Then he really paid attention to the way your body moved, hips rolling, legs splaying lazily and your hands clutched at the sheets. Oh.
Within his boxers, Aaron felt his cock twitch at the realisation of what you were more likely dreaming about in that moment. Fuck. What was he to do? He most certainly wouldn’t get anymore sleep now at this rate. Maybe he should quietly get dressed and leave with a note telling you he went for a walk. But at the same time he didn’t like the thought of leaving you by yourself- Aaron scrunched his eyes shut and clenched his hands into fists, pushing away the more serious thoughts. You were capable of protecting yourself, he knew that. And yet…
“Mmh, daddy please…” He heard beside him and his entire body jolted in surprise, eyes flying open and immediately finding your face. Aaron swallowed thickly as his cock twitched again, hardening slowly.
Try as he might to resist, his eyes wandered to the rest of your body where your chest rose and fell, the swell of your breasts strained against the confines of your pyjama shirt. Fuck, your nipples were pebbled and for a moment he wondered how they'd feel between his teeth.
He clenched his jaw and forced his gaze away from your chest, only to find himself ogling the squishiness of your stomach. Oh, how he had fantasised about gripping onto it as he thrusted his cock into you, needing to see how your body moved in time with him. And as his eyes trailed down to your moving hips he spotted the dampening patch on the crotch of your pyjama shorts- fuck, he needed to wake you up now.
Carefully, Aaron reached a shaky hand over towards you in the darkness of the room and touched your shoulder.
“(Y/n), hey, wake up.” He said softly, and in response your eyes squeezed shut as you let out a groan. “Come on, wake up, sweetheart.”
A moment passed, then your eyes fluttered open and flicked to look at him, only to squeak and flinch back when familiarity filled your gaze.
“S-sir!” You cried out.
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This couldn’t be happening to you right now, surely. You surely weren't sprawled out flushed and needy whilst Aaron stared down at you as he kneeled beside you, his hand still resting on your shoulder. You quickly sat up and pulled the covers up over your form.
“Wh-what’s wrong? Do we have a case?” You stumbled over the words quickly, and Aaron blinked, then huffed out a quiet laugh.
“No, no. Don't worry about that. Are you okay?” He asked gently and you felt your stomach clench. Oh no…
“I-I….”
Aaron leaned a little closer, brows creased in concern.
“Bad dream?”
You froze. He really did hear you, then. After a moment, you sighed and rubbed your hands over your face.
“No… but I think you already know that, sir.” You mumbled.
Aaron hummed and dropped his hand from your shoulder.
“I didn't want to accuse you of anything and embarrass you,” he said and shifted back towards his side of the bed ever so slightly to give you space. “But, well, I woke up because I could hear you.”
Your grip on the covers tightened as a cold feeling of shame oozed over you.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean for that to happen.”
You mumbled as your head drooped and you felt your lower lip begin to tremble. This was the worst thing to happen right now. Not only had you dreamt of your boss in an inappropriate way, you'd disturbed his sleep too.
“Hey…” Aaron began softly, reaching across again to take hold of one of your hands. You refused to look up though, the negative feelings within now burned through your veins like lava. “Look at me.” He said.
You didn't move.
“I can't. Wanna forget this happened, sir.” You mumbled back.
He was quiet for a moment, brushing his thumb across your knuckles soothingly.
“Well I don't.”
That got your attention, then. Your head snapped up and your eyes searched his face.
“I-I’m sorry?”
Aaron gazed down at you through his thick lashes, the sight causing a warmth to pool within your lower abdomen. Had he gotten closer all of a sudden?
“I’m going to switch the room light on, protect your eyes for a moment.”
You complied immediately, turning away to bury your face in the crook of your arm and you heard the click of the light switch, signalling you to slowly pull your arm away from your squinting eyes. Now… Now there was nothing to hide from him. You turned back towards him and you shuddered at the sight of his rugged appearance. Aaron exhaled.
“Listen (Y/n), you think I'm a stranger to erotic dreams? Of course I'm not.” He said, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “You've nothing to be ashamed of.”
“But I do!” You cried and pulled back, stumbling out of bed and clenching your hands into fists. “I shouldn't have had this dream, especially since I dreamt about the very person I've been-” your eyes widened then, realising what you'd almost said. Aaron knelt up now, moving closer to where you stood backed against the wall.
“Been what?”
You just had to dig your hole deeper. Aaron’s brows were creased now, but all you could do was stare back with a saddened furrow.
“(Y/n)?”
The prickling feeling in the corner of your eyes triggered your throat to tighten as you fought the urge to cry.
“You know what I'm going to say, but I'm ashamed to say it.” You choked.
Aaron's brows raised slightly, but he remained quiet for a moment as though lost in thought.
Every second that passed was agony, your mind beginning to race away from you with ‘what ifs’ about everything. Was he uncomfortable with you? What if you were transferred or fired? The thought made your chest ache and finally, the tears began to roll down your cheeks and your breaths grew shallow and fast.
“Hey, hey. (Y/n), look at me. C'mere back to bed.” Aaron's voice brought you from your thoughts and your eyes refocused on the contours of his mature face. He was painfully beautiful. “Will you let me hug you? You're okay. You've nothing to be ashamed of.”
You simply nodded meekly and he breathed, reaching out to you-of which you met him halfway by crawling back onto the mattress- and pulled you over for a warm, ever engulfing embrace, maintaining you at his side respectfully. You let out a whimper as you gripped onto his shirt tightly, whilst his hands held firmly onto your soft body.
“I'm sorry.” You mumbled against his shirt.
“You don't need to be.”
“I had an embarrassing sex dream about you and now you're comforting me for it.”
Aaron held you closer still, resting your head on his chest. Wait- his heart was racing.
“Maybe that’s because I want to.” He said quietly. You pulled back.
“Wh-why?”
He quirked a little grin as one of his hands glided up and down your back soothingly.
“Well, when I said I am no stranger to erotic dreams…” he trailed off and your breath hitched.
No way. Surely he wasn't implying-
“Whatever you're thinking, the answer is yes. I've had my own fair share of…dreams about you.” His eyes were fixed on you as he spoke, and you felt your body trembling. He let out a chuckle. “I've been very lucky this week that somehow I haven't had one, to put things into perspective.”
You stared at him for a moment, then your face broke out into a flustered grin and you giggled.
“Oh! Well I- I didn't expect that, sir!”
With the room light on now you could bear witness to the delightful sight of Aaron's flushed pink cheeks as he grinned bashfully.
“Now you see that you have nothing to be ashamed of.”
You both quietened for a moment, holding one another gently as you studied one another. He really was such a beautiful man. Silently, he leaned down towards you closer still and your breath hitched.
“A-are you gonna kiss me, sir?”
“Mhm, you called me something very different when you were sleeping.” He murmured and you shuddered.
“I…”
“I sure hope you're not about to apologise again to me, sweetheart.” He said as he leaned closer towards your face, eyes gazing down at your lips through his thick lashes. “Because if you are, I'm going to have to put that pretty mouth of yours to better use.”
Your eyes widened and you shivered as your thighs clenched together.
“F-fuck…”
Aaron hummed and cupped your cheeks with his large hands, his thumbs stroking your soft skin.
“May I kiss you, (Y/n)?”
You swallowed thickly.
“Please.” You managed to whisper.
And his lips were pressed against yours a moment later, tender and gentle and sensual as your eyes fluttered shut and your hands came to grab onto the front of his tee shirt. Instinctively, you whined into it and his hands moved, gliding down to your plush waist and gripping onto the flesh. He moved backwards, pulling you with him to straddle his lap and as your clothed slit reached the fabric of his underwear you felt just how much he wanted this from the firm, hot bulge that pressed against the confines of the fabric.
You whimpered as he pulled back barely enough for him to be able to speak, his lips still brushing against yours as he spoke.
“Feel how much I like you, huh? Need you so much, pretty girl.”
You shyly rolled your hips, grinding your mound against the bulge and earning a sharp hiss from the man before you. His hands moved suddenly to grab your ass cheeks, squeezing and melding them and causing you to roll your hips more in response. He groaned against your mouth when his lips met yours again, the second kiss being more heated and desperate; hungry for you. Only when the need for oxygen burned in your chest did you both part once more, but his lips remained on your skin as they travelled along your soft jaw.
“C'mon, tell me about the dream you were having.” He coaxed you, holding your body flushed with his more than ever. You merely whimpered and your hands moved to his hair, messing it up with strands pointing in random directions. Aaron tutted and turned you both over, pinning you beneath him and making you squeal.
“A-alright! I, mmh, wanted you to touch my p-pussy, you had me spread my legs for you.”
Something flared within Aaron's dark eyes and you heard a rumble in his chest; possessive and aroused. His hands gripped your hips and you parted your thighs a little, eager for him. He smirked.
“Oh? Well, we'll build up to that. Wanna ask you a few things first.” he said, brushing his nose against yours. “I wanna know what you're okay with and your limits.”
You sucked your lower lip between your teeth and slowly released it, enjoying the way Aaron's eyes fixated on your mouth.
“J-just as long as you don't do anything too extreme like really hurting me or extremely gross I'm okay. I'm a big girl, I can take it.”
You felt as Aaron's hands slid up to cup your cheeks and he kissed the tip of your nose fondly, making you hum.
“I see, I don't want to hurt you, at least nothing more than if you enjoyed a bit of spanking. How does that sound, hmm?” He said and you shuddered, flashes of the dream you'd had causing you to subtly spread your legs a little wider.
A whine escaped you as you held onto him desperately. “Yes, fuck please!”
Aaron smiled.
“Good girl.”
You shivered and opened and closed your mouth a few times, debating on how to word what you wanted to say next. He quirked a brow.
“What is it?”
“I… well, I love slaps on my ass but I also- fuck, this is embarrassing!” you squeaked, earning a kiss to your forehead, then Aaron brushed his own forehead against yours.
“You don't need to be embarrassed, sweetheart. I'm not here to shame you.”
With a whimper, you blurted it out.
“I really like pussy spanking!”
As the words slipped your mouth the reaction was instantaneous; the man before you jolted forward, his hips bumping against yours and pressing the prominent bulge of his erection against your inner thigh. And it twitched. You made a small noise as he pushed himself up again as he uttered an apology.
“I didn’t mean to do that, I’m sorry.” Aaron said but in response you rolled your hips upwards, chasing the feeling of his arousal against your body.
“I-It’s more than fine, s-Aaron.”
He hummed, pressing his weight down onto you now and his lips brushed over yours.
“So, pussy spanking? I didn’t expect that from you, naughty girl.” He teased you and you shuddered. He chuckled softly and began to slightly grind his bulge against the heat of your clothed slit. “You want daddy to spank your pussy, huh?”
You bit your lip, brows creasing as you nodded at him with a little hum.
“Y-you’re okay with daddy?”
Aaron stroked your cheek and pressed a soft kiss against the corner of your mouth.
“More than okay with it, I assure you.”
With that he pressed his lips to yours properly once more and his large hands travelled down your neck until he grasped your breasts, causing you to gasp in surprise. Aaron took advantage of this, his tongue brushing against your own whilst his fingers pinched and flicked at your erect nipples through your pyjama shirt. All you could do was grip onto his upper arms, the strong muscles tensing as you rolled your hips up against Aaron's bulge and causing much needed friction on your poor clit.
When you both parted for oxygen again, you whined.
“Please-!”
“Aww, please what?” Aaron cooed at you, though it wasn't entirely sincere but rather mimicking your tone. You felt flushed, embarrassed but enjoying it more than you thought you would.
“W-wanna feel your hands on my skin!”
With a hum of approval, you felt as he pulled at the hem of your shirt and you shifted up from the bed just enough for him to be able to pull it off your body, exposing your plush body to him finally. You didn’t have time to clam up and cover yourself with your arms as Aaron gently grasped your wrists and pinned them either side of your head. He exhaled deeply, causing a rumble to vibrate through his chest. His dark eyes roamed over your form and again, you felt his cock twitch.
“Jesus, you’re fucking beautiful.”
Your legs came to clamp around his hips and you tried to curl your knees inwards in a feeble attempt at covering yourself.
“S-sir!” you squeaked. His eyes narrowed and he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.
“Careful, if you call me that I may not know what to do with myself when we’re working together.”
Your eyes widened in alarm, but a faint smirk toyed with the corner of his mouth and you relaxed a little. You’d keep that in mind for now. Drawing your attention back to the present, Aaron released his hold on your wrists, only for his hands to glide across your shoulders and down the centre of your chest, teasing you by avoiding touching your nipples. Now, he allowed himself to smile more openly and he drew in a deep breath.
“So soft, so fucking sexy. You’ll let me kiss them, huh pretty girl?” He murmured.
You nodded and offered a brief ‘yes’ and he slid down the bed a little until his face was level with your breasts. You shuddered when his lips made contact with the valley between them, leaving little kisses over the area and starting to sidle over to the right one, his tongue slipping out to swirl around your areola and causing you to arch up into his touch and gasp out. You could feel his lips curl into a smirk as they wrapped around the pert nipple and he sucked it into his mouth, his hand coming to grab your other breast and roll the nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. You moaned softly, moving your hands to sift through the dark locks of Aaron’s hair and mussing it up. When his teeth brushed against the tip your back arched and you tugged on his hair, making him huff a muffled laugh.
With a wet smack of his lips, he pulled away from your now swollen nipple and brushed his lips over the flushed skin.
“You sound so sexy when you moan for me, pretty girl.” He murmured and you let go of his hair to cover your face with your hands, squeaking.
“Shhh! Don't say that!”
Unbeknownst to you, his gaze darkened and suddenly, his hand came down and slapped your inner thigh and startling you with a squeal.
“Aaron!”
His hand slapped your thigh again, closer to your clothed slit.
“What was that, hm?” He said darkly, his hand gripping onto the meat of your thigh, his fingers indenting slightly. You breathed shakily.
“I-I-”
“It’s daddy, got it? Or do you want to be punished?”
You stared into his dark eyes and sucked on your lower lip again, slightly swaying your hips side to side. 
“No, daddy. I-I’ll be a good girl.” you whimpered and Aaron hummed softly, moving his hands up to cup your cheeks and brushing his thumbs against your skin.
“That’s right, you’re my good girl.”
He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours again, groaning softly into the kiss and you returned to brushing your fingers through his dark locks. You felt him press his thick bulge against you and you desperately wanted to feel his bare skin against yours. Needed to see it, touch it, taste it…
Aaron grunted in surprise as you shoved him away, only to hear you giggle as you manoeuvred him to lay on his back whilst you knelt at his crotch. His eyes narrowed at you.
“What do you think you’re doing, hmm?” He asked darkly and you leaned down closer to the twitching bulge of his boxers.
“Can I have a taste please, sir?”
Visibly, Aaron’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. He let out a puff of air through his nose and a smirk tugged at his mouth.
“What did I tell you about calling me ‘sir’? You fucking naughty girl.” He gritted, although he wasn’t truly annoyed. You hummed innocently.
“Whoops, I can’t help it, sir. I’m just so used to it.”
Shaking his head but smiling slightly, Aaron raised a brow at you and his body relaxed.
“Well, since you asked so nicely I’ll forgive and forget both you shoving me ah-nd-” His words stuttered when you pressed a little kiss to the tip of his clothed cock and hummed softly at the feeling of the patch of precum staining his boxers touching your lips. “F-fuck…”
You beamed at him between his slightly parted legs, pressing your soft cheek against the bulge affectionately.
“You’re so big, daddy!”
With your newfound confidence, you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his underwear and slid them down, eyes wide as they focused on his cock. You heard Aaron hiss when his length finally slipped out, slapping against the lower part of his tee shirt. He was very big. Aaron let out a deep, quiet moan as he studied your expression- you were in awe, almost salivating at the sight of him. You slid down to lay on your stomach, taking hold of his shaft and causing him to hiss sharply. From the hem of his shirt you could see the base of his thick happy trail, the dark hair spreading out across his pubic bone and haloing his cock. With your other hand, you pulled his underwear down further until they reached his mid-thigh and now you had access to his mouth-watering balls too. You whimpered. Aaron felt precum slowly drip down off his tip, soaking into his shirt and leaving a little wet patch.
“You like the look of daddy’s cock huh?”
You nodded and whined out a little “yes” before you nuzzled your face against his cock. Eyes fluttering shut, you slowly opened your mouth and took the oozing tip inside, humming at the taste of his natural body and the slightly salty precum. You heard Aaron swear as you swirled your tongue around the tip, slipping your mouth further down the shaft. You bobbed your head lightly, sucking against his skin and feeling giddiness rise in your chest with every grunt and moan and curse that passed his lips. He tasted so good, addicting and you craved more. With one hand on his shaft, sliding up and down to meet your mouth, the other glided up to his stomach, slipping under his shirt and gripping onto the soft pudge there. You carded your fingers through the thick, dark hair there and felt the muscles under his skin contracting with every suck and lick of his cock. You felt his hands gently grip your scalp and you dug your fingers into his stomach when he began to guide you up and down his length.
“Unnf… that’s it, fuck- such a good fucking girl-” Aaron moaned softly, and you could feel him twitching against your tongue. You took more into your mouth until you felt the tip reach the back, just short of your throat, and you gagged a little. Aaron pulled you off quickly, sitting up to cup your cheeks. “Oh shit, I’m sorry sweetheart. Are you okay?” His eyes searched your face, the saliva dribbling down your chin and the little gasping breaths passing your swollen lips. You grinned.
“Mmh I am. Guess I gotta practice more to build up to that.” You breathed and slid your hand up and down his length. Aaron bucked his hips in surprise, falling back against the pillows with a grunt and causing you to giggle. “Oops~!”
You continued to slide your hand up over the slick tip whilst you kissed down the underside of the shaft until you reached the place where his cock met his balls. You hummed softly, tongue darting out to lick them and causing Aaron to groan deeply from the back of his throat. You could only sneak a couple more kisses before he pulled you away from his cock, grabbing onto your upper arms and hauling you to straddle him. He pressed his lips to yours in a fierce kiss, no doubt tasting himself on your lips, and his hands slid over to your back and encouraged you to grind your clothed slit over his shaft. You whined, feeling the tip bump your clit with the movement and wanting to feel more. Before you knew it, you were trapped beneath him on your back again, gasping in surprise and in turn, allowing his tongue to slip against yours. You felt hot, burning with need for him and craving him to do as he pleased with you so long as you could stay with him.
Aaron reeled back, gazing down at you with a look of pure desire and admiration of you. He reached for his shirt, pulling it up over his head and discarding it without any care and your pupils blew wide at the breathtaking sight of him in his entirety. Your eyes trailed over his form, over every bump and curve, the hair sprouting over his stomach, at every mole and beauty mark. But also at the faded but still raised scars that were scattered all across his body. You hadn’t known him during the threat of Foyet but had heard some of what transpired. But seeing it before you, seeing what physical damage that sadistic man had done to Aaron made your breath hitch. You blinked a few times, both to stop yourself from staring but also to try to clear away the tears welling up. Aaron noticed them though, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose affectionately.
“I’m okay, sweetheart. I promise.” He murmured softly. You nodded, but in the back of your mind you filed this off for a later time. For now, you slid your hand across his torso, feeling his skin under your touch and you kissed the corner of his mouth.
“You’re so handsome, sir. I knew you were already but…”
Aaron chuckled quietly, the tips of his ears evidently red as he cupped your cheek with one of his hands, brushing his thumb over your lips.
“Sweet-talking me, are we? Well, I appreciate it. I feel the same way seeing you.” kneeling back and lightly gripping onto the band of your shorts, he smirked. “Speaking of… shall we get these off you now, pretty girl? Gotta show your cute, little pussy the same amount of love you gave my cock.”
You squeaked, hips twitching upwards into his touch and allowing him to start sliding the shorts down your plush stomach and stretching over your large thighs. At the sight of your pubic mound, Aaron hummed deeply and made quick work pulling the fabric off the rest of the way, too joining the rest of your clothes elsewhere on the floor. You bit your lip, gazing up at him desperately and he chuckled again,
“Mhm, now I recall what you told me earlier from your dream. So,” He leaned back to give you space and gripped his girthy cock with one of his large hands. “Show daddy your pretty pussy.”
Oh fuck, you whimpered as you felt your clit throb at his command. You slid your hands down your body and gripped onto your legs, hooking your hands under your knees, and started parting your thighs for him. The cool air of the room hitting your dewy folds caused you to shiver, and the sight of Aaron jerking himself off to you made you feel confident, more aroused.
“I-is this okay, sir?”
Aaron gripped the base of his cock tightly, groaning a little and shifting forward towards your spread legs.
“God- so fucking pretty. You’ll let daddy touch, won’t you? You’re so wet.” He breathed, eyes focused on your slit.
“P-please-”
“Good girl.”
Letting go of his cock, Aaron instead moved his hands down to part your folds with his thumbs, licking his lips at the sight of your juices coating your skin. You shivered again, rolling your hips in desperation.
SLAP.
You squealed, back arching as the sting of Aaron’s hand impacting with your pussy startled you more than hurt you.
“Daddy!”
“I didn’t say you could keep moving around, little girl.”
Your eyes widened at his sharp tone, staring up at him as he glared. He resumed with his touches, swiping his fingers down from your little bundle of nerves to your leaking entrance. You whimpered, struggling to stay still but you couldn’t stop yourself from twitching. He chuckled and held his hand out to you showing off how much of your juices had stuck to his fingers.
“Would you look at that, little girl. So sensitive… i’ve barely touched you and you’re so jumpy.”
Your eyes widened and your stomach clenched, causing Aaron to pause.
“What is it? Are you alright?” His tone softened and you panicked a little.
“A-ah yes! Don’t worry, I just-” you felt a flush of warmth to your cheeks as you thought of how to word what you were about to say next. “Well, in my dream I was jumpy and you said I was jumpy like a b-bunny.”
For a moment the room was quiet, and you wondered if you had made a mistake. But as you opened your mouth to take back what you’d said, Aaron pinched your clit, making you cry out and buck your hips up.
“Well well, you’re more fucking filthy than I expected. You want me to call you my little bunny, huh?”
You keened up at him, letting out a high pitched noise as you tightened your grip on your legs.
“P-please, daddy!”
With a quiet huffing laugh, Aaron swiped his fingers across your pussy again and leaned down to press a kiss to your pubic mound. You quivered, anticipating what he would do next.
“So soft… Mmh, you smell so good, bunny. Gonna taste you now.” He whispered and slid his mouth lower, brushing his lips over the hood of your sensitive clit. He hummed, sending vibrations through your slit and you choked out, bucking your hips up against his face.
SLAP.
You sobbed out a broken moan with the smack to your pussy again, this time more firmly than the first one.
“Fuck- sorry da- ungh!” you could barely speak, words slurring into a loud moan when Aaron’s tongue swiped from your leaky hole up to your little nub, sucking it into his mouth and releasing it with a tug. He didn’t stop, lapping at the bundle of nerves with his talented tongue and all you could do was try to stop yourself from riding his face. With his slick covered hand, he circled a finger around your entrance and dipped it inside slightly with every round; teasing you. He sucked you back into his mouth again, simultaneously thrusting the finger inside you in one swipe and you wailed.
Your grip on your legs faltered, slipping from your grasp and your feet slammed down onto the mattress. With a growl, Aaron surrounded your clit with his teeth as he pulled his mouth away again and as he did so, his finger slipped back out of your pussy. The sound of his fingers slapping your poor slit resounded around the room, accompanied by your cute squeal.
“You’re a naughty fucking bunny, aren’t you? Can’t keep hold of your legs anymore, huh? Tsk.”
Shoving your legs apart, Aaron thrusted two fingers inside you this time and his mouth devoured your poor clit, the little nub becoming swollen and red from the spanks. With another sob, your hands came to grip at his hair and he growled again, fucking his fingers into you roughly. He would be the death of you, driving you brainless with his touch and you’d thank him for it too.
Two fingers became three, stretching your little pussy open around them as he tortured you with his mouth. You already felt full just with his thick fingers inside you, but you’d seen the girth of his cock and you could only wonder how much it would split you open for him.
“S-so much- Fuck! Daddy, s-so thick~” You whined, feeling your juices drooling out of you with every thrust of his fingers. Aaron pulled off your clit again far enough away to speak.
“You need stretching out so you can take daddy’s cock, bunny.”
He emphasised with a thrust upwards and your hips spasmed, hands gripping the bedsheets either side of you desperately.
“G-ghh fuck!” 
His mouth resumed on your mound as his pace quickened, fingers rapidly thrusting in and out of you with a sloshing sound. You felt a burning pleasure building within your lower abdomen, coaxed by his torturous touch and your noises raised in pitch. With the feeling of your walls clamping around his fingers, Aaron smirked around your clit as he knew you were going to cum any moment now. With a light nibble of his teeth and a particular thrust you cried, back arching as you rode his mouth and fingers through your powerful orgasm. But he didn’t let up, continuing your torture until you were keening again. Only then did he relent, pulling off your clit with a wet smack of his lips and he pushed himself up with his spare hand, keeping his fingers of his other hand inside you still. He licked his lips.
“Mhm, you taste real good, bunny.” he smirked, eyes on your heaving chest. You struggled to catch your breath, eyes heavily lidded as you basked in the aftershocks.
“F-fuck, that was…”
“Us only getting started.”
That helped your eyes recover, widening as you stared up at the mischievous look on Aaron’s face.
“Oh fuck.”
He leaned down to kiss you, full of passion as you opened your mouth to taste your juices that lingered on his tongue, but pulled away far too soon and his fingers slipped out of your gushing hole. He cooed at you when you whimpered, pressing one more kiss to your forehead.
“Just gotta get a condom, bunny. You just sit tight for daddy, okay?” He said as he shifted away and clambered off the bed. Your eyes followed his toned rump, the urge to bite it suddenly flooded your mind and you bit your lip. Maybe another time, you thought.
“Why’d you have condoms, daddy? You thinking about fucking me?” You giggled as he grabbed a little foil packet from his go-bag. He turned to you with a glare, stalking over to the bed and crawling towards you on the mattress. Before you could react, his hand came down sharply on your overly sensitive clit and you wailed, body jolting as pleasure and pain spasmed through you.
“Don’t be coy with me, naughty little bunny. I have them for less mess. Which is your doing,” He emphasised with another, lighter slap to your clit, then massaged it with the slightly rough pad of his fingers. “You keep invading my dreams and I have to sort out the problem you cause.”
Oh fuck, you whined as your mind was filled with thoughts of Aaron waking from erotic dreams about you, fucking his fist at the thought of you afterwards.
“G-god that’s so hot, daddy!” you moaned, rolling your hips involuntarily and he grunted.
“It’s been torture, is what it is.” Aaron came to kneel between your spread legs again, this time his hips were flushed with your thighs, and he tore open the little wrapper with his skillful fingers. But as he began rolling the rubber over his thick shaft, his hands faltered and his cock twitched. “Oh god.”
You tilted your head.
“Wh-what’s wrong?”
Aaron didn’t say anything at first as he secured the condom in place, but then he pressed the length down against your squishy stomach and mound and you realised what he was thinking about.
“Look how small you are compared to daddy’s cock.” He marvelled. And he was right. He was so thick, at least three of his fingers in width, with the tip ending at the midway point of your low abdomen. Oh… You felt your pussy clench in anticipation.
“I…I don’t know if it’ll fit, daddy.”
You sucked your lip into your mouth, wiggling your hips as you shifted to get comfortable. Aaron cooed at you.
“Aww don’t worry bunny, daddy will make sure it fits.”
Grasping his cock and shifting back just enough to align the bulbous head with your pussy, he slowly brushed it up and down, using his other hand to spread your lips to expose more of your clit to him as he massaged it with his cock. You were gasping out cute, little noises which only encouraged him to grind more, thrusting over the hood of the sensitive nub with a quiet grunt.
“Fuck, you’re so wet. You ready to take my cock, little bunny?” He rumbled and you grasped for the hand spreading your folds.
“Please, sir! N-need it so badly~” you whined and with a huffed laugh, Aaron angled his cock in line with your oozing entrance.
“Gonna push inside now, bunny. Be a good girl for me-”
You could feel the pressure on your hole. The sensation of his cockhead slowly pushing into you made your eyes widen more and more until suddenly, it slid home and stretched you out deliciously.
“O-oh-!” Your mouth was agape, and Aaron groaned deeply with the sensation of your pussy clenching around his tip. Christ, you already felt full to the brim. But then as his hand slammed down onto the pillow beside your head in an attempt to stay upright, his cock slid in further- easing into you more and stretching you out a little bit at a time. “Fuck!” You moaned, eyes fluttering shut.
His own moan joined yours, deep and sensual and one of the best sounds you had ever heard. He stilled, holding himself up as he waited for you to adjust.
“F-fuck- sorry, sweetheart- you just feel so good I lost my balance for a moment.” He grunted, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “You alright?”
You nodded, straining your neck up to press your lips to his cheek over the beauty mark under his right eye.
“I am, don’t worry. Feels so good, I promise.” You murmured softly, smiling up at him. He chuckled and a delightful blush tinted his cheeks.
“Okay, okay. Gonna slide out a bit and try to get a little deeper, bunny.”
Pulling his hips back, you felt his length retreating until only the tip remained, then he lightly thrusted forward with a soft grunt again. Slowly, inch-by-inch he worked his cock inside you, encouraged by your soft moans. And then, you felt his hips press against the back of your thighs, stuffed full of his fat cock. Your eyes were blown wide, whining loudly when you felt the pad of his thumb brush against your clit.
“S-full…” you slurred, hands reaching for Aaron’s arms to grip onto. He was clenching his jaw, resisting the urge to fuck into you until you were ready.
“You take me so well, bunny- fuck!” Your pussy clenched around him from his praising and it took every ounce of his strength not to fall on top of you again.
You felt impossibly stuffed full of him with a dull ache throbbing through your lower abdomen, though not entirely unpleasant.
“P-please…”
“Please, what? Use your words, pretty bunny.” Aaron teased and you whined whilst pushing your hips up at him.
“Please move, daddy!” you finally whined out and he kissed your forehead.
“Good girl.”
Slowly sliding his cock out of you, your pussy clinging to his shaft like a vice grip, he paused when only the tip remained. And then he thrusted forward in one firm movement, spearing you on his length to the hilt. You cried out in time with his grunt, and slowly he picked up a pace. IN and out, in and out, your body jolting in time with every thrust, to which Aaron grabbed onto one of your breasts to leverage himself.
“Feel so fucking good around my cock- fuck- good little bunny-” Aaron grunted and emphasised his words every time he bottomed out, his voice more husky than usual as pleasure burned through his entirety. You could only moan and wail, the pressure of his cock stretching out your hole and the prominent vein running along the topside of his shaft stimulated your clitoris from within.
“S-so much- Aah-Aaron!” You wailed as your words melted into moans, not even paying attention to the fact his name had slipped through. You felt Aaron’s hips stutter and he swore loudly, curling downward and kissing your neck hungrily. His pace quickened, his cock barely pulling out more than halfway now and stimulating the roof of your pussy more thoroughly. But you least expected his hand grabbing your breast to let go, only to slap your poor clit and making you cry out barely lower than a scream. “Sir!”
Aaron pulled upright to glare down at you, still fucking his cock into you roughly,
“That’s not what you called me just now, you fucking naughty girl.” He hissed as he slapped your clit again. You howled, back arching and your legs tried to close but were blocked by his hips.
“Please! I’m sorry, daddy! Feels too good~”
“I haven’t even been fucking you for that long and you’re already this brainless? Fucking filthy.” He spat, rubbing his fingers over you clit rapidly. You writhed beneath him, not caring about having shame as your pleasure began to swell. He scoffed. “I can feel you pulsing. Gonna cum, are you? Go on, cum for daddy like the filthy fucking bunny you are.”
The pleasure was burning now, spreading through your core until you let out a broken moan, grabbing Aaron by the shoulders and pulling him down on top of you, his fingers still rapidly toying with your sensitive nub. It was blinding, no other orgasm had compared to this one before. Being so full of him, surrounded by him, his relentless movements… You were spasming hard, your body trying to shy away from the overwhelming pleasure but Aaron pulled you back with his free hand.
“Oh no you don’t. You’re staying right here, bunny.”
You whined as oversensitivity caused your body to shiver uncontrollably. Aaron finally relented, though still kept you stuffed with his cock and he brushed his lips against your cheek. “You doing okay?” he whispered softly and you nodded, smiling a little,
“God yeah, you’re fucking wild!” You giggled when he huffed out a laugh and nuzzled your cheek against his. “We can keep going, that was just the most intense orgasm I think I’ve ever had.”
“Jeez, well it was certainly the most intense sensation I’ve felt around my cock, I’ll tell you that.”
With one last kiss to your cheek, Aaron pulled back and his demeanour shifted back to being stern and dominant. He eyed the place where you two bodies joined and he hummed.
“Don’t move, daddy wants to check something, ‘kay?”
You whimpered as you felt his cock slowly pulling out of your oversensitive channel but then you squeaked when he pulled the tip out entirely, followed by a gush of your juices. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer, pushing your thighs back until you knees reached your chest. “Hold them there.”
You complied immediately, gripping the back of your knees and struggling a little bit with the sweat that had built up there. With his hands free now though Aaron carefully pried your folds apart and he groaned loudly. You twitched.
“Wh-what is it?”
His eyes dragged up to your face and he smirked.
“Wanted to see how much you’d stretched for daddy, bunny. You’re fucking gaping.”
You felt your eyes widen and a full-body shiver coursed through you.
“Oh my god.”
He hummed deeply again, then leaned his body down to swipe his tongue around your slightly gaping entrance. You could barely make a noise before he sat up again and pushed his cock back inside in one quick movement and you gasped loudly. With your knees pressed to your chest it felt as though he pushed impossibly deeper inside you and it made you mewl for him. He was rolling his hips sensually into you, moaning in his sensually baritone voice.
“Fuck… Don’t think I’m gonna last too much longer, sweetheart.” He huffed out when he felt you clenching around him again. You let go of your legs, hooking them over his shoulders and instead grasping hold of his hands.
“S’okay, me neither-”
Aaron’s pubic bone rubbed against your swollen clit, the hair tickling it with the roll of his hips. He squeezed your dominant hand and moved it between your bodies but didn’t let go, instead guiding your circles around the bundle of nerves.
“That’s it, good girl. My fucking good bunny.” He encouraged you. Pleasure was building again rapidly within you, and you turned your head to bite into the pillow cradling your head.
“F-fuck! Please- please!”
Aaron picked up the pace, pulling out just enough to piston in and out of you and his noises raised an octave higher.
“Shit- (Y/n)!” He moaned and that was it for you. Your body shook and quivered almost violently, eyes rolling back into your head as you wailed Aaron’s name. Simultaneously, his cock twitched prominently as he orgasmed, his body tensing aside from his bucking hips. There was no end, your pussy clenching around him in response to his hand guiding your clitoral stimulation, in turn prolonging his own overwhelming pleasure. Before it became all too much, he let go of your hand and both dropped onto the mattress, utterly fucked out.
The room was quiet aside from your mutually heavy breathing and the rush of blood in your ears. You could feel Aaron softening inside you now as the two of you calmed down but you whined and grabbed hold of him when he tried to pull away.
“No, stay!”
“Honey, I’ll collapse on you, and I’ve gotta take care of the condom.” He said softly to which you scowled at him.
“Ugh, but I wanna cuddle.” You protested weakly. He smiled and kissed your forehead.
“You need to pee too, pretty girl.”
You only slightly hated that he was right about that. A few minutes later, with some water and some snacks you had in your go-bag, the two of you cuddled up to one another under the covers, still bare but cosy. Initially, Aaron had protested laying half on top of you as you requested, but quickly accepted it with a light-hearted laugh when you pulled him down onto you and wrapped your limbs around him. It felt natural, as though you’d always been together. And it filled you with butterflies.
You brushed your fingers through his messy, dark hair and studied the beauty of his face when he lifted his head up from your bust to look at you. The corner of your mouth twitched.
“D’you wanna, um, maybe go for coffee sometime?”
Aaron grinned.
“You’re asking me on a date?”
“Yeah, I didn’t want this to just be, y’know, sex.” You said softly. He pressed a kiss to your chest just below your collarbones lovingly.
“Neither do I. I’d love to go out for coffee with you.”
And you beamed at him, your cheeks tinted with a rosy glow.
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The following morning you followed alongside Aaron to the hotel reception area to meet up with the others, eyes still a bit bleary as you blinked rapidly. The others were already waiting for you, it turned out and immediately your stride faltered when you saw the expression on their faces. Oh no.
“Well, well! There you two are!” Derek chortled and you wished the floor would swallow you whole. His eyes fixed on you and he grinned widely. “Hey bunny! Sleep well?”You stopped in your tracks, as did Aaron and he glanced back at you, meeting your eye. You were in for a very long flight home.
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Jesus christ that was the longest fucking standalone fic ever. I hope yawl enjoyed it if you stuck around until the end here 😭😭 thank you so much for reading!!!
Tagged people: @tgskitten @hoffmanfan13
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jaylaxies · 10 months
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HARD THOUGHT !
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WC: 1k words
CW: smut, daddy kink, slight manipulation, corruption kink, usage of nicknames.
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni
A/N: hihi i got a lil carried away w this one! it’s inspired by these two asks here and here! :3
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Jake is sweet, almost too sweet to be true and that’s why you trust him blindly with everything. The way he never hesitates to give you prolonged hugs, the way his eyes always provide you with comfort and his words sound like sweet melody to you, it’s a given fact that you won’t want anyone else to teach you how to kiss but your best friend Jake, you simply want to be good for your crush, Heeseung, and so you most certainly didn’t wish to be totally clueless when it comes to such things.
Jake was more than willing to help, “of course i'll help, we don’t want Heeseung to be unsatisfied now, do we?” He’d chuckle, hating the fact that you wanted to do it for another man, yet he had his own ways to keep you close to him, one being-providing you help for his own benefit. “But Jake, won’t it be wrong if I use you for this?” You’d ask, genuine concern plastered on your face and he finds it cute how you think it’s you who’s using him, when in reality, it’s quite the opposite.
“Oh, princess. You don’t have to worry about it, I just want to help you,” he’d smile, making you feel at ease as he starts proceeding with his plan, the first step—kissing.
He’d pat his lap, making your eyes go wide but you’d follow and sit on his lap, straddling him on the couch as his big hands would hold you in place and he’d ask you to kiss him, smiling when you lean in for a delicate peck, groaning when he bites your lip, eliciting a weak moan out of you.
“Jake—” you’d whimper, unknowingly pressing your clothed cunt on his hardening cock, feeling a newfound feeling erupt in your lower abdomen, even more so when he cups your cheek, tilting your face to get a better access to your lips, his plush ones serenading you like there’s no tomorrow, “that’s not what you should call me, princess,” he mutters.
Your eyes widen, looking up at him in question, “Heeseung would love it if you call him daddy,” he smirks, “say it, baby.” He’d urge you, throwing Heeseung’s name to strengthen his case. “D—daddy?” You’d whisper, allowing him to caress your swollen lips. “That’s right, princess. You’re such a good girl for me.” He makes sure to take his time kissing you dumb that night, to the point you lose your sleep, clutching your chest as the vivid images of Jake come back to your mind, you wanted more.
And each day, he taught you more, touching the expanse of your body, getting rid of your clothes turn by turn. The wetness returned each time you tried something new with him, your body felt as if it was on fire as he pushed you into your subspace in all the right ways.
“Daddy!” You moaned, gripping the bed sheet when he tasted your wetness for the first time, his warm breath made it tingle to the point you were shivering. “That’s it babygirl, just trust daddy, yeah?” He said against your folds, accent deeper than ever as he immersed himself in eating you out, giving you your very first orgasm.
You were dazed, wanting more and more. Then came the day you finally saw his cock, his eyes staring at you with such intensity as you could only look at his veiny, leaking cock with innocent and curious eyes.
He grunted when you held him, “you’re doing so well, princess. So good for daddy,” he lets out, holding the back of your head gently as you continued to do just as he directed, smiling once he fills your mouth as his thick cum spurts out on your tongue, making you want to gulp it down, “wanna be so good for daddy always.” You’d smile, forgetting about why you were doing this in the first place, Heeseung wasn’t the one you thought about these days, rather, it was your daddy Jake.
“Tell me what you want, princess?” He’d ask with a sweet smile, which almost looked like a smirk, “daddy,” you’d cry out, “want y—your cock in m—me, I can't wait anymore,” you’d tell him as he’d kiss your tears away, “daddy will give you everything you want, babygirl,” he’d pat your head lovingly despite being in such a compromising position, his tip rubbing on your entrance. He doesn’t rush, he loves seeing you squirm, blabbering out words which do not make sense just because you’re so enraptured by the man on top of you—your daddy who’s more than willing to provide you with everything you need.
He loves it, how fucked up his princess looks with her smudged lipstick and mascara running down her cheeks with her crystalline teardrops, which keep on flowing with the immense pleasure you receive. He loves that he’ll get to fuck you, that his cock will be the first to enter your prettiest cunt, which is his and his only. You were reliant upon him for pleasure, nothing else felt good without your daddy and when he finally gave you the taste of his cock buried deep in your pussy, it felt more pleasurable than it hurt.
“Daddy—” you whisper, eyes closing as you let him take over and kiss you, his hands all over your body, as if he had memorized you completely, touching the most sensitive spots as he thrusted even harder in your leaking pussy, your walls squeezing his cock to the point he couldn’t help but groan out, “so wet for daddy’s cock, yeah? You like it, baby? That’s my good fucking girl, all mine.” He’s right, you’re all his now and you won’t want it otherwise, making a mess on his cock.
Your mind fuzzy with his thoughts through and through, ruining your innocence as he moulded your brain in such a way that you couldn’t help but yearn for him.
And just like that, Jake had successfully corrupted you to the point of no comeback.
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solarisfortuneia · 10 months
Text
— 𝐣𝐚𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞.
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even the sweetest of scents eventually turn bitter.
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✦ featuring: zhongli.
✦ warnings: angst.
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"why do you seem to adore this particular flower?" he remembers asking you, one still night, when even the moon has decided to go to sleep. for as long as he's known you, your entire life seemed to revolve around jasmines. 
he remembers you laughing as you hang a bunch of them from his horns mischievously. "i love its versatility, my dear morax. it can be a garland, an accessory, a perfume, it can be infused into tea; it's wonderful, really. and it smells and looks divine." you playfully add later, "in addition, you look absolutely fetching with them on, don't you think?"
it dawns on him that he's never seen you without a cluster of them nestled in your hair, he's never seen you drink anything but various varieties of jasmine tea; at this point, he cannot think of one without thinking of the other. he doesn't even remember what your name means. to his mind, all it invokes is vivid pictures of your smile and the fragrance that always surrounds you.
and when you stand in front of him, a determined aura about you, that memory swims to the surface and he knows. he knows exactly what you'll say.
morax dreads those words he knows will come out of your mouth, and for the first time in a long while, he's afraid. he's afraid of breaking your heart, when all he wants to do is cradle it in his palms— but he knows he must. 
"i cannot return your feelings," he says, steeling his gaze, lifting his chin and hardening the curve of his mouth. 
he watches the hope in your eyes break, shatter like glass. he watches passively as somewhere, deep within, your heart cracks, and he swears he could hear the sound reverberate throughout the stone hall the two of you stand in. he watches as your hands start to tremble, your voice shake the tiniest amount.
he almost reaches out with his pattern covered arms, desiring naught but to hold them still and whisper honey-glazed words in your ears, rock you in his embrace and offer you uncertain promises of a happy future, but he forces them down. there is no place for love in a war, he thinks. and my presence cannot make them smile more than my absence would make them cry.
"why?" he hears you ask, voice barely more than a breath. "i-" you seem to be frozen in place, only capable of moving your lips the tiniest amount. "i thought we had something."
he swallows, saliva scalding his throat. "i'm in love with another," he blurts, knowing this would stop you from chasing after him. every syllable stabs at him as it leaves his mouth. "i always have been."
"oh," that soft, silent, broken breath of yours cuts through his armor and pierces through his core. "i understand," you lower your eyes, displaying the same grace you've always shown, and he hates that he cannot be true to both himself and you. "i hope you will be happy. i wish you the best, morax." he nearly winces. morax. not 'dear morax', and not 'my dear morax.' just morax.
as you turn to leave, he gets a whiff of the flowers in your hair, and he retches at how absolutely acrid they smell. he takes a step backward, once again fighting the urge to reach his arms out. he plants his feet firmly on the ground and watches as your figure gets smaller and smaller before you start running. 
if doing it this way is how he must keep you safe, then he'd step on his own body, heart and soul, without hesitation. 
of what use is a god who cannot control his own destiny? who cannot promise happiness to those he cares for?
he will wait, he swears. he will wait for as long as it takes. after the war, he promises himself. when time is favorable, he promises. as long as it takes for him to see you again, meet you on the other side, where the future is bright. but he knows it, in all the possibilities of the world, is pointless. after all, you were just a mortal, with a life akin to the blink of an immortal's eye, were you not?
it is the unmistakable scent of jasmine that wafts through his nose, many, many, many years later. he is simply zhongli now, the funeral parlor consultant who frequents teahouses, nothing more, nothing less, but the bitterness still bites at his nose each and every single time, all the same. 
he smiles into his cup, a little sad, a little nostalgic and he absentmindedly wonders why he chose to order jasmine tea today, of all days. a cheerful lilt reaches his ears, and he laughs to himself.
why do you think of them now, after all these years?
the voice grows louder and he jolts uptight, not trusting his hearing. he stands up hesitantly, searching, scared all over again. and it is then he hears a laugh he never thought he'd hear again. he finds the same set of features, giggling at something the other person in front of you said.
impossible. people rarely reincarnate with the same face. but hope strikes to a flame nevertheless, and he sits back down again, looking for signs that it might be you. 
sharp amber eyes find a small jasmine flower nestled behind your ear, and he can't help but smile. 
perhaps, this time, he could try again?
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honeybleed · 4 months
Text
content & warnings: female reader, nerd!armin x nerd!reader, black-coded reader, reader & armin are college students, suggestive and allusions to sex mdni
author’s note: lmao another reupload i say i can’t stand mr. arlert but i figured i’d repost this for ole times sake. it flopped the first time so let’s see.
word count: 1.6k
You hate men.
That’s a reoccurring thought you have when you actually have free time and go to any comic book store.
When you admire a comic that’s in mint condition behind the glass or a figurine, sooner or later some troglodyte will approach you and attempt to quiz you.
And sure enough, he appeared.
“Hello.” He said, starting off politely. Your guard was up but you maintained your pleasant demeanour.
“Hi…” You said, a smile plastered on your face.
"Are you thinking about purchasing that figure...?" He inquired his tone condescending, squinting his eyes.
"...If I was?" You shot back, masking your annoyance with a pleasant tone of voice.
“It’s a limited figure. There are only seven in existence as we speak, and I’d hate for it to go to somebody who isn’t a die-hard fan.” He responded.
“And what makes you think that I’m not?” You questioned, brows furrowing together.
He simply gave you a look up and down.
“A gut feeling.” He snarked.
“Sorry to bother you.” A gentle yet resolute voice called out behind you.
You turned to face whoever that was and you were met with vivid, crystalline eyes.
“I couldn’t help but notice your keychain-”
“Here it goes.” You thought to yourself. Now you were getting jumped by two at once.
“I have a matching one..” He chuckled.
Stuck.
The gentle features and pleasant grin of the man in front of you halted your defence mode.
“Oh!” You replied, attempting to regain your composure.
Your gaze was drawn to the keychain on his bag, his hand pulling it closer to give you a better look.
“Yeah.” He said with an earnest chuckle.
“That guy is an asshole.” Armin said bluntly as the two of you walked down the high street, out of the store. “I come here every Thursday, and without fail any cute girl that enters that shop, he’s got an entire quiz set up.”
You wrinkled your nose in disgust then sighed at the aspect of that going on any longer before Armin swooped in to save the day.
Then you looked up at him through your lashes and felt the urge to tease him. He was a familiar face on campus.
Professors and TAs both adored him since he always had something to add to the lesson.
He was articulate in his words, presenting concepts and deconstructing them.
There was no doubt he was one of the sharpest students in your college.
He was never condescending to those pupils who were hesitant about the subject. Support and clear walkthroughs that even professors could not provide.
“You think I’m cute, Armin?” You say, with a giggle.
“What am I, blind?” He responded with a snort. “Never took you for a compliment fisher.”
Your jaw went slack with disbelief at his dig.
“H-hey!” You stuttered, caught off-guard. “Am not!”
He had a smart mouth. You figured at first glance he was a pushover but boy were you wrong.
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From then on, you met up with Armin every Thursday. The day he was free from his busy schedule.
You’d purposely begun to whisper to each other and cackle like hyenas to irritate the nerd bros you had clashed with in the comic book store.
Sometimes Armin would feel bold and do the lingering touches, like skimming a hand across your waist or full-on holding your hips when the store was busy which always made you swat his shoulder in annoyance and let out a disbelieving laugh.
Your relationship blossomed, and you went from just sometimes meeting up at that store, to spending the entire day over at his place building Lego sets and puzzles.
Card games were always an iffy one with Armin because he’d be sneaky and you always caught him out on it. And in response, he’d give you a sheepish smile and hold out his hands in defence.
“I wanna do something special for her.” He said as a passing comment to his best friend from childhood, Eren.
“What makes her so different from the other girls you bring over and geek out over nerdy crap?” Eren said with a derisive snort as his eyes were glued to the screen as his fingers flew over the game controller.
“Hey!” Armin protested, slightly irritated at Eren’s blunt comment pausing the game.
“Dude, whaaat?” Eren dragged out, glaring at Armin in irritation.
“So you’re gonna sit here and act like she hasn’t been hanging out with me for long?”
“Armin, I don’t give a crap about your love life!” Eren barked. “If she’s so special just amp up the nerdy shit.”
“Gee, thanks buddy.” Armin muttered, resuming the game. However, Eren’s words, albeit harsh spurred an idea within Armin.
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He spent a week preparing this weekend excursion during both of your spring break.
When he first told about this vacation, he felt his pulse race as he saw the broad smile appear on your face.
Armin would do anything to make you happy.
In a place full of rare and exotic sea creatures, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.
The way the light of the crystal clear waters illuminated your brown skin, the way your eyes glimmered in awe at the jellyfish floating across the tank.
The quiet hubbub of the hushed visitors whispering and humming added to his fixation on you.
He could’ve sworn at this very moment you two were the only people on the planet, let alone the aquarium.
As you both made your way deeper, you turned to look at the stingrays gliding through the waters.
“I still can’t forgive em.” You snorted as your eyes followed them.
“You hold grudges? Remind me to never cross you in the future.” Armin chortled.
“More like forgive but never forget.” You said. “Take that as a reminder, Arlert.”
“Duly noted.” He laughed as he put an arm around you and pulled you close.
Later on at the hotel you’re staying at, you’re just scrolling through your phone.
Your friends are blowing up your phone like crazy since the group’s resident misandrist going on a weekend trip with a man is the most outlandish shit they’d heard of in a long time.
Your palms are clammy, and there was slight unease in your stomach. You didn’t miss the way Armin’s repeatedly raked over your body throughout the entirety of the day.
You’d opted for something short since it was hot. And it wasn’t as if you were some sort of newbie. You and Armin went at it a few times.
But being away from everybody in a whole other state was new territory. And the look in those azure eyes of his was something you’d never seen before.
You bid your friends' goodnight, rolling your eyes at your best friends’ teasing, and rubbed your temples.
“What are they saying?” A voice suddenly calls out from behind the couch causing you to jolt from the seat.
“Why’d you sneak up on me like that, are you trying to give me a heart attack?!” You barked as your hand settled onto your chest.
“You’re so skittish today, like a deer. I don’t bite. Or do I…?” He says with a wink.
“Armin, please leave that Casanova act somewhere. It does not suit you..” You replied with a shaky laugh.
“Alright, alright.” He said, then the next thing you know his lips are on your neck and his hand is trailing up your shirt palming at one of your breasts.
It’s an awkward position, considering he’s crouched over the couch whilst you’re sat there but it feels too good for you to even think about that.
“Armin…” You finally say, breath hitching. “What are you-”
“Making you feel good, mhm?” He says with smugness in his tone, letting his teeth graze over the skin which makes you shudder and let out an embarrassing whiny sound.
“But…”
“But what, pretty girl? I know you wanted this for so long. So just let me, I’ll take care of you.”
You nod, then gesture for him to sit beside you on the couch. From there the almost predatory look in his eyes from earlier translated into his actions.
His hands were almost everywhere, tugging at your clothes and rushing you. Under normal circumstances, you would’ve checked him but it was flattering to see how badly he wanted you.
Your skin heat up from the way his palms slid across every curve and dip.
How he yanked you close to messily meet his lips, and he bit at your plump glossed lips, whining and groaning into the kiss.
When you pulled away for air, the obscene sight of Armin’s face scrunched up in downright neediness as his fist bunched your top and the string of saliva connecting the two of you made you shudder.
Your breaths were becoming shallow as the feeling of his pants getting tight underneath your clothed core pushed further and further into you.
Armin’s movements were jerky as he whimpered uncontrollably, unable to string a coherent sentence together.
Completely contrasting to the suave persona he was pushing only a few minutes ago.
Begging and pleading for more of you, as pink dusted across his cheeks and beads of sweat began to trickle down his forehead.
Throwing your head back, the feeling of you rolling your hips into clothed friction made you dizzy with lust.
He was chanting your name, that was the only thing he could muster out for a moment.
“Please, please, please..” He breathed out, voice pleading. “Let me feel all of you, it’s all I want..” A storm brewing in those eyes.
Soon enough, he was knocked out his arms snaked around your waist and head resting on your chest. Bodies sticky but you didn’t care.
You hate men. But perhaps Armin Arlert is an exception.
author’s note: rip steve irwin ✊🏽😔 also this was the keychain
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ladyofthenoodle · 1 year
Text
oh, look now, there you go with hope again
Adrien Agreste was sitting alone in the cafeteria.
Again.
The sight made Marinette want to pull her own hair out. Hadn’t she publicly stated, as Ladybug, that Adrien Agreste was as much a victim of his father as anyone who had been akumatized? That in the end, he’d shown remorse and helped her? Hadn’t she urged the people of Paris to embrace him, to give him a second chance?
Sure, she hadn’t exactly practiced what she’d preached, but—she’d excused herself as the exception. After all, no one had been more hurt by Chat Noir than Ladybug herself. No one else had felt the sting of betrayal or the sharpness of his claws the way she had.
So she’d told herself it wasn’t her responsibility to extend an olive branch more than she already had. Surely, someone else—someone who didn’t have vivid memories of fighting against a boy meant to be her partner—would step up and be his hero. It wasn’t Marinette’s job.
Except, apparently, it was.
Because he was still eating alone.
If no one else was going to step up, then she had to.
The next day, she marched right up to his table in the cafeteria.
He looked up at her, wide-eyed and frightened.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know this table was taken. Please, let me move my things–just a few seconds, I promise.” 
He’d already started packing up by the time Marinette processed what he’d said—and the hunted look in his eyes as he said it.
“Stop!”
Adrien froze, instantly, then raised both hands in the air: the universal sign for ‘I’m unarmed.’
Marinette felt a pang of guilt. Snapping at him like she was apprehending a criminal was not the approach she was going for. So she tried again.
“I mean,” she kept her voice as soft as she could, the way one would approach an injured stray on the street, “you don’t need to move. The table isn’t taken by anyone except you.”
Adrien nodded, his hands lowered slightly, but clearly still on guard for whatever she’d say next. She hated that, but she couldn’t blame him for expecting the worst when a girl he’d never spoken to before arrived at the table.
Still, the idea of him being scared of her—plain-clothed Marinette—felt wrong. He’d never even been scared of Ladybug, though she’d had her fair share of nightmares about him.
“Can I join you?” she asked.
He nodded again, but unlike the relief she expected at her question, his posture remained guarded and tense.
Did he not want company? Is that why he still ate alone?
She found that hard to believe. Chat Noir, even at his worst, had always been gregarious—often trying to make conversation with her even as he attacked her. There’s no way this same boy could be satisfied eating alone every day, with no one to talk to. 
He must just not know what to do in this situation—it was common knowledge, after all, that he hadn’t been allowed to go to school before this, not even a fancy private school.
Luckily, Marinette had come prepared with the perfect icebreaker.
So after she took her seat next to him, she pulled it out of the bag: two croissants, baked fresh this morning, and better than any of the baked goods in the cafeteria menu. She put one on his tray.
Adrien eyed it warily.
“It’s for you,” Marinette explained.
“You want me to eat it?” he asked, which she thought was a bit rude, but she supposed Hawkmoth wouldn’t have taken much time to instill his son with proper manners, so she decided to let it slide.
“Yes, I brought it for you.”
He nodded, then picked up his knife and fork like he was preparing for battle. He closed his eyes, breathing in deep, as if he were bracing himself.
Marinette had a hard time pushing back her annoyance at that. Not thanking her was one thing, but acting like her parents’ baking was some kind of chore to eat?
“Just eat it!” She took a bite of her own, for emphasis. “It’s good.”
Adrien set his knife and fork down again, then gingerly picked up the croissant with his fingertips. 
Irrationally, Marinette felt her heart racing as he slowly inched it towards his mouth, like it was a design contest and she was watching the judges circle her piece. 
Which was stupid, because she wasn’t trying to impress him. She was just trying to be nice. It didn’t matter if he liked it or not.
But by the time his teeth sank into the croissant, she was on the edge of her seat.
He took a bite.
Chewed.
And swallowed.
Then looked at the croissant again, with wide-eyed wonder. Marinette couldn’t stop the smug, satisfied grin from spreading across her face.
Which quickly slid back down at his next words.
“It’s… just a croissant,” he said, and if he hadn’t said it with such awe and reverence, Marinette would’ve chewed him out.
Instead, she was just baffled.
“What else would it be?” 
“Nothing,” he said, too quickly. “Of course it’s a croissant, I just—there’s nothing else in it.”
Marinette frowned. “Were you expecting pain au chocolat? It’s a whole different shape.”
“No, of course not, I—” He stopped, then, and looked away, as if he was scared to say more.
And really, this whole exchange had been weird, from the beginning.
“Adrien,” she said slowly, “why were you afraid to eat the croissant?”
Because that’s what it had been, hadn’t it? Not ingratitude. Not snobbishness.
Fear.
He mumbled something into his lap in response. She couldn’t quite make out the full sentence, but what she did hear was chilling: “...last croissant had…. in it…”
Just a croissant. Because he’d expected her to put something in it.
She’d known her classmates avoided him. But she hadn’t realized how bad it was.
When Marinette was 10, their class had gone on a field trip to the zoo—not the one nearby, but the big one, on the outskirts of the city. She’d been so excited that she’d packed her bag filled with everything she could possibly need—snacks, sunscreen, her favorite magazines for the bus ride.
And then she’d been stupid enough to leave her bag unattended for a few minutes.
The memory of squeezing her bottle of sunscreen in the heat of the day and having a dollop of mayonnaise fall into her hand instead had never left her. It hadn’t been the worst prank Chloe had ever pulled, but the scent of mayonnaise that’d been sitting in the sun—sour and rancid—never left her. 
She still smelled every bottle she opened now, years later, even ones she knew no one else had touched.
She didn’t know what had been in the last croissant he had been given, but she knew exactly why he’d been wary—why he’d tried to go in with a fork and knife first.
What she didn’t understand was why he’d drop them and eat it with his hands anyway, if that’s what he expected.
“Why did you take a bite if you thought I’d put something in it?”
“Because you told me to,” he whispered.
Marinette blinked, disbelieving. He’d blindly taken a bite, expecting the worst, because she’d told him to? Even at the peak of her victimhood, before she’d learned to stand up and fight back, Marinette had done her best to avoid falling into any traps she could see coming.
“Why?!?” she all but shouted. “Why would you just let someone do that to you?”
His answering smile was brittle. “As long as I’m willing to play the victim, they don’t see me as a villain.”
Marinette’s stomach dropped in horror as he continued—as she realized the true extent of what she’d let Adrien Agreste go through for weeks, while she’d turned the other way and told herself it was someone else’s problem.
“When I first came to school, no one wanted me here. They didn’t feel safe, even though Ladybug assured everyone I was powerless now,” he was looking away, now, voice hollowed out like his insides had been scooped out, “For a while, I was scared they’d make me leave school. But then, they started playing pranks. And after they’d play one, they’d laugh at me, and it hurt at first—it still does, but—one day, I realized, when they laughed and taunted, they didn’t look scared of me anymore. So, I let them. If this is what it takes to stay, for them to feel safe and accept my presence here, I’ll eat whatever they serve me.”
Her insides churned at the thought of him—sitting on the ground, surrounded by the faceless peers laughing, and somehow deciding that was for the best.
“Why would you want to stay, when everyone treats you like that?”
Why would he want to stay, when no one had shown him even an ounce of kindness?
Adrien shrugged. “It’d be the same anywhere, probably. And…”
“And?” she prompted, reaching out to lay her hand on his white knuckles gripping the edge of the table.
He turned a wistful smile to her now. “I’ve always wanted to go to school. To be with other kids and make friends. My parents wouldn’t hear of it—they said it wasn’t safe, that the kids I’d meet at school weren’t worth knowing.”
Something in her heart—some wall that she’d built up after that second battle with Stoneheart—cracked.
“I can’t let him be right,” Adrien confessed, his own voice breaking with the weight of it.
She’d been wrong before, when she’d thought he’d sounded hollowed out. Maybe his father had hollowed him out before, to better fill Chat Noir with Gabriel Agreste’s own darkness, a croissant ruined by something unsavory shoved inside.
But this Adrien wasn’t hollowed out. 
He was carved into. And he’d submitted to it, willingly, just for a chance to stay.
Luckily for Adrien, Marinette did two things better than anyone else in Paris: proving Adrien’s father wrong and rebuilding what has been destroyed.
She squeezed his hand, in promise.
“He wasn’t right. We won’t let him be.”
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nateezfics · 8 months
Note
I have this very vivid image of being dragged away by Hongjoong during a party or an outing into a bathroom that’s backlit by a dim red so that he can bend me over the sink and have me moan his name around his fingers when he fucks me because he can’t wait to get home
RED
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PAIRING — hongjoong x reader
GENRE — smut, established relationship, fem!reader, dom!hongjoong, sub!reader
WARNINGS — smut, unprotected sex, public sex//bathroom sex, rough sex, mirror sex, fingering, teasing, degradation//praise, name calling, sexual language//dirty talk
WORD COUNT — 2k
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You were pushed into the bathroom in a rush, your boyfriend offering you no time to utter a single word before his lips crashed against yours. It was a mess of teeth and tongue and so fierce you had to clasp his shirt to steady yourself. His hands were all over you, gripping and pulling on all the places that made you moan into his mouth.
“Fuck, baby, I need you. Need you now.” Hongjoong’s lips trailed down your jawline just as his hands ventured up your skirt, leaving goosebumps across your skin in their wake. He was touching you urgently, desperately as if the two of you weren’t currently inside the club’s restroom.
“Hongjoong,” you sighed, voice thick with arousal yet soft with nervousness. Your hands were stiff against his chest in a weak attempt to push him away, but a graze of his teeth against the soft spot on your neck had you fisting his shirt to pull him even closer to you. “Someone could walk in…”
“I can’t wait–” he sucked on your skin, “–until we get home.” Hongjoong’s fingers teased the lining of your panties and your cunt reacted immediately, fluttering and clenching around nothing. He had always been so well behaved, so composed and patient. He was passionate, but always knew how to rein it in, to keep his desires in check until the right moments. Tonight he was desperate, needy, and you would’ve been lying if you said it didn’t send arousal straight to your core.
There was a beat of silence as your concentration derailed, the only sound being the slightly muffled music from outside of the bathroom. It was hard to think of anything other than the way Hongjoong’s lips suckled on your neck, or the way his fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs. But the ever present fear of someone walking in and catching the two of you urged you to make one last attempt to convince your boyfriend to let you loose. “Hongjoong, we’re in the bathroom of a packed club. There are people right outside this door!”
Hongjoong smirked against your collarbone. He smirked, like he wasn’t at all turned off by the idea of someone witnessing the two of you like this. “Well, this isn’t about them, now is it?”
You were shocked at what came out of his mouth. Shocked and so immensely aroused. Hongjoong chuckled at your reaction.
“We’re going to have to make this quick.”
He lead you to the sink and was quick to bend you over it, situating himself behind you. Your face was a mere inches away from the mirror and you were able to see the view of him behind you. The bathroom was dimly lit, yet neon red lights lined the perimeter of the bathroom, illuminating him in a glow. With the lighting and the smirk on his lips he looked absolutely wicked, and your pussy weeped at the sight of him.
Hongjoong’s eyes lowered to your rear while his hands pushed your skirt up, bearing your panty cladded ass to his hungry gaze. He chuckled at the prominent wet patch, and your cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. “Looks like I’m not the only one who’s needy,” he teased while his thumb pressed against the soaked fabric.
You moaned at his touch. Your legs automatically spread themselves apart in a silent plea for him to touch you more. Your body always reacted to him, you weren’t able to control yourself around him. You were driven by desire and as each second passed you became less and less concerned by the multitude of people just outside the door. “Hongjoong, please, I need you to do something. Anything. Please.”
Hongjoong cocked an eyebrow, lips curled in a satisfied smile. His fingers pushed your panties to the side, his knuckles grazing your slick folds. “Weren’t you just telling me to stop a moment ago? What happened, hm?” He was way too smug, and you whined when he continued to offer you nothing more than feather light presses of his knuckles. He had a knack for breaking down your defenses in a matter of seconds; you were no match for him, and he fucking knew it.
“Hongjoong…” You pressed yourself against his hand to urge him to move. You didn’t care; you didn’t give a damn about anything else anymore. You just wanted him in every way he was willing to offer. And you needed him quick or else you were certain you’d combust. He had been so rushed just a moment ago, but suddenly he had all the time in the world.
He always made time to rile you up.
Two of Hongjoong’s fingers plunged into your heat at once, making your body jerk at the suddenness. Your back arched at the surge of pleasure while his fingers curled inside you. He began to work them in and out, pulling moan after moan from your throat. He chuckled just as he bent over your backside, chest against you and mouth at your ear. “We’re going to have to do this quietly, understand? Unless, of course, you want the whole club to hear how good I make you feel.”
You listened to him, biting your bottom lip to quiet yourself and keep more moans from spilling out.
“Good girl,” he praised as he straightened himself. His free hand slid down the expanse of your body, tracing every curve and dip. Hongjoong worked you open with his fingers, your cunt leaking arousal all over them and down your thighs.
It wasn’t long until your high began to gain on you. Your thighs shook and your teeth dug even deeper into your bottom lip to keep yourself quiet. But with every pump of his fingers into your soaked cunt you were pushed closer and closer to the edge, and your brain began to grow hazy. “Oh, fuck, Hongjoong. I’m so close.”
“Yeah?” His lips were at your ear again. “Going to cum for me? Going to cum all over my fingers, hm?”
You gulped. Your watery eyes met his sharp ones in the reflection. “Yes.”
“Mmh, you’re so dirty. Such a little slut you are for my fingers.” He added a third, your tight hole now full with three of his fingers. Hongjoong smirked at the way you whimpered. Your cunt sucked him in, fluttering around his digits as you spiraled to your release.
The addition of a third finger was enough to make you fall apart, euphoria overriding your senses and filling every last of inch of you. He kept finger fucking you through your high, just until you were able to milk every last bit of your orgasm.
Hongjoong stood straight again while he pulled his fingers out of you. You watched him through the mirror. He met your gaze just as he wrapped his plush lips around them. You didn’t miss the way his eyes practically rolled backwards as he delighted himself with your taste, and suddenly you were filled with renewed arousal at the sight.
“You taste delectable, baby,” he said after licking his fingers clean. He backed up a bit to gaze down at your cunt, watching the way it glistened in the low lighting. “I’d devour you, but we don’t have that kind of time.” He wiped off his fingers on your skirt before busying himself with the fasten of his pants. His erect cock was free a moment later, and he sighed in relief when he wrapped his palm around it.
Your cunt fluttered with anticipation as you watched him in the mirror; his brow was furrowed and jaw tight as he worked his hand over his cock, and you wanted nothing more than for him to stuff you full of it. “I need you in me, Hongjoong.” Your voice was only a whisper, barely audible under the heavy beat of the music.
Hongjoong chuckled while he aligned himself to your entrance. You both groaned when his tip pressed against your slickness. “Want me to slut you out, yeah? Slut you out right here where anyone could walk in. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To have someone witness how much of a cockslut you are.”
You rocked back and forth against his cock, not enough to push him inside but just enough to offer you some delightful friction. “Yes, fucking yes, Hongjoong.”
He was fully seated inside you just as the words left your lips. You cursed at the stretch, that delectable, toe curling stretch that made your brain turn to mush in your skull. You took every last inch of him, remaining still while you took some time to adjust to the fullness of him.
Hongjoong’s hands were tight on your hips, fingernails digging crescent shapes into your skin. “God, you feel so fucking good around me. Always taking me so well, baby.” He thrusted once, then twice, then again and again until he built up a rhythm. There was nothing precise about the way he moved; he was urgent. Urgent to cum, urgent to make you fall apart along with him. He’d been so desperate for you all night, and now every bit of neediness was beginning to override his self control.
You braced yourself against the sink to keep yourself from being pushed face first into the cool glass of the mirror. His hips pistoned into you with force, and all you could do was take it. You tried your best to keep your noises to a minimum, but the occasional moan slipped through your lips at every deep plunge of his cock into you. “Hongjoong…” His name was uttered as a warning. A warning that the pleasure was becoming overwhelming, and that it was getting harder for you to stifle your sounds.
Hongjoong understood, and soon his hand was snaking up your neck and up your jaw until his fingers reached your lips. “Suck on my fingers, baby.” You opened your mouth and allowed him to plunge two of his fingers inside. The taste of his skin and the lingering hint of your previous release overwhelmed your tastebuds.
You both watched each other in the mirror. You looked a mess with his fingers inside your mouth, and he looked undone with sweat along his brow. Together you were a nasty yet glorious sight to behold beneath the bathroom’s red glow. A sight that made you that much closer to falling apart. Hongjoong’s lips grazed your ear, hot breath fanning across your neck. His eyes never left yours. “Look at your reflection. Look at how gorgeous you are. So fucking gorgeous when I’m fucking you like this. So pretty and fucked out for me.”
His words spurred you on, and suddenly you were catapulted into your next high, body shivering underneath him. Your eyes rolled backwards, and the whole room turned blurry as you lost yourself within the pleasure he was filling you with. Moans were broken and muffled because of his fingers, and as you rode out your high he made sure to keep your mouth plugged.
“God damn,” Hongjoong groaned as you squeezed his cock. It only took a few more thrusts into your tight heat for him to reach his own climax, cock throbbing with need for release. He pulled out just in time to spill all over your ass, painting you with white hot ribbons of cum.
You slumped over the sink, only able to remain standing thanks to your boyfriend keeping you firm in his hold. His fingers left your mouth so he could rest his hand on top of yours. You smiled when he kissed your temple. “I love you.”
Hongjoong smiled. “I love you, too. Now let’s get you cleaned up before someone really does walk in.”
You chuckled. “I…I can’t believe we actually had the whole bathroom to ourselves without anyone —”
Before you were able to finish, the bathroom door flew open and in came Yeosang. There was silence, an awkward silence that seemed to last for too long. Shock and disgust flashed over his features before he returned to his neutral expression. He turned to leave, offering you and Hongjoong a small wave.
“I was curious where you two went. I should’ve stayed curious.”
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AUTHOR’S NOTE — anon, i love you for this. i hope you don’t mind that i got a little carried away and turned into a full blown fic ;3
TAG LIST — currently unavailable
NETWORK — @kflixnet
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ALL FICS ARE THE ORIGINAL IDEAS AND WRITTEN WORKS OF NATEEZFICS. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. REPOSTING WITHOUT CONSENT FROM THE AUTHOR NATEEZFICS IS PROHIBITED!
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vilsoo · 6 months
Text
𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄 ⌇LEON KENNEDY
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vampire!reader x prince!leon || WC: 3,626
𖤐 SYNOPSIS. you’ve had your eye on prince leon for a long time, impersonating as a sweet duchess developing an ardent relationship with him. but with your dark intentions, you crave for nothing but his blood and to corrupt him as a vampire…
𖤐 WARNINGS. historical royalty au, duchess!reader, coercion so dubcon warning, seduction, hypnosis, eventual smut, bathtub sex, marking, neck biting, blood drinking, mentions of killing, loss of innocence, kinda ooc leon, multiple orgasms.
HORRORLAND/KINKTOBER MASTERLIST
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[HAUNTED HOUSE ANNOUNCER] You are now entering the Lust at First Bite live venue. This haunted house attraction depicts scenes of violence, intense loud audio, special effects, and content warnings posted. For a fun and safe experience, please follow our code of conduct: no touching live performers and decorations, no flash photography, and no eating. Do not block passageways, or this will result in expulsion. Smoking and drinking are permitted for our haunted houses only. We hope you enjoy.
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“Your grace. There is a nice, hot bath prepared just for you in the master bathroom.”
Your gaze settles onto Prince Leon as you were reading a book on your sofa, drinking in the very sight of him. He felt his own heartbeat stomp through his ribcage from how ravishing you looked under the pale moonlight radiating from your window, dressed in your nightgown and the enamoring glimmer in your eyes drizzling into his skin, buzzing in all directions of his soul. You see him with his embellished suit off and only his white dress shirt, a sign that he would be retiring back to his chambers soon for the night.
You’ve favored each other for the longest. You knew that Prince Leon had deep, incandescent feelings for you, the darling duchess of España, but was too abashed to confess. And even though there was a lingering part of you that shares the same feelings, your heart wasn’t in the right place. No desire for love, commitment, marriage, or even the title of queen in the kingdom once Leon inherits his title as king. Only a handsome man like him can writhe you into a carnal fervor, your dark desire growing stronger like a restless, insatiable hunger…
The forbidden lust and tension between you two was tormenting to even bear every second you spend time together; you wanted him in ways that he could never imagine, all those filthy, vivid dreams filling your mind. The passion, the roughness, the danger, the urge to corrupt that sweet, innocent soul… Moments in time when you’re both alone was like playing with fire and ice, aware that such ravenous desire and yearning for each other could be intoxicating…
Prince Leon lends a hand for you as you stand before him, your beautiful, genuine smile causing his heart to flutter. “Why, thank you, Your Highness. I’ll be on my way right now.”
“No need for formalities, remember?” Leon smiled back, still holding onto your hand that his thumb involuntarily grazes your fingers. Your gaze flickers down on his hands and then up into his face, fighting the urge to inch ever so closely to feel his lips on yours.
“Right. Well, are you retiring to bed for the night?”
“I was on my way, but… if you have any requests before I go, I’ll be of service.”
Slowly letting go of his hand, your longing gaze drifts to the bay windows, a silent statement that you didn’t want him to leave just yet. Coronation is just in three days and Leon will become king. Ever since you were inherited duchess, you’ve waited so long for this very moment… Not to celebrate Leon and partake in festivities, but to celebrate your own triumph...
The triumph of finally drinking his blood.
“Will you help me unlace my dress?” you requested ever so fondly. Leon looked as if every fiber of his being seized at the question, rendered motionless and his jaw slightly slackened.
“Uh, are you— are you sure, your grace?” he stammered. “You’re comfortable with me… touching you like that? Wouldn’t we be in some sort of trouble…?”
His innocence prompted a chuckle from you, coyly slanting your head at him with the right kind of heat and ardor pooling in your flaunting eyes. Immediately his mind is haunted by the hollow embrace of your gaze. Oh how you loved enticing the prince without lifting a finger, that he couldn’t help but to get lost in you, already undressing you with his eyes.
“Oh, Leon. You said you’d be of service for me tonight. Why would I get you into trouble?” You simpered, whirling your body around to reveal your delicate frill laced corset beautifully tied into a bow. Though the prince was hesitant to even lay a finger on your enamoring body, he would forever adorn your warming embrace, urging him to please you and surrender to your unfair seduction.
“Forgive me. You know how I tend to be… wary of your grace. I would do anything as you please.”
A smile stretches across your face, emitting soft sighs of relief as Leon loosens up your dress and the pressure finally lifted from your waist. The steady pace of beating hearts and slowed breathing, his calloused hands lightly brushing against your back, the shape of your body seeping into his mind… Your body has already succumbed to this desiring aroma, addicted to each other with such burning ecstasy.
“I worry that once you’re king, the circumstances between us may change,” you murmured as Leon loosened the last section of lace, whirling around to meet his eyes once again.
He held back the urge to lean forward, to finally taste those saccharine lips of yours bathed under the moonlight, to kiss you for reassurance; even though he knew that you did not belong to him...
“Y/N. You know how deeply I favor you. Being a king may have more responsibilities, but that doesn’t mean not spending time with you. Surely that is something I won’t ever miss out on,” the prince professes, ever so sweetly.
“Oh, Leon...” Another warm, genuine smile and a soft chuckle was all you replied with, clutching your loosened dress to cover your semi-exposed chest as you made your way to the master bathroom. “If your desire to spend more time alone with me is true, will you partake in more favors for me?”
“Of course, your grace. Anything.”
You hummed. “Will you light the candles in the bathroom, please? You know I love the ones you gave me.”
Leon scoffed softly, finding your demure request oddly adorable. “As you wish, your grace.”
As he lights a match from your fireplace to transfer to your bathroom, your dress had already pooled around your ankles, completely naked as Leon saunters back and flinched in shock from accidentally averting his eyes on your bare skin. “Your— your grace!” he stammers again, shielding his face away from your direction. “Forgive my eyes, I— I didn’t know you disrobed so quickly— I will be taking my leave—“
“Leon,” you assured, also piqued by how adorable he was. “There’s absolutely no need for that at all. I still require your presence.”
The prince cleared his throat, his head still turned away and eyes fixated onto the wall. “Oh, uh— of course. As long as you are comfortable, I won’t leave your side…”
“Will you look at me when I am speaking as well?”
As much as Prince Leon was flustered from your risqué behavior stemming from nowhere, he couldn’t bring himself to disobey your commands. And though he was of much higher status, being heir to the throne, while you were of a lower rank than him, he always felt rather inclined to serve and satisfy you. When his frantic eyes drifts ever so slowly onto your nude body, the depths of his blood rushed to meet the surface of his cheeks. A slow inhale he took as if he breathed the sight of you in, effortlessly seducing his thoughts…
“What’s the matter?” you spoke, his eyes never leaving the beguiling sight of your body as you dipped your feet in the bathtub.
“Um— nothing, nothing. It’s just… you may have stolen my breath away once again, your grace.”
“Once again?” you teased. “Ah, how could I forget your expression after seeing me in my gown during our tea party in the gardens a week ago...”
With the dandelion colored candlelight dancing off the rippling water, you submerged in the warm bath of rose petals and lavender, the sweet aroma of affection, serenity, and fondness filling the air. Leon was undeniably enticed. As if you wrapped him under a spell with such wanton lust, every soft whisper and every alluring gaze you give each other unleashing a storm of temptation. He felt inclined to feel closer to you as you washed yourself, right beside your grand bathtub, his shadow towering over you.
“Your grace. As honest as I am with you as you are with me... I believe we both know exactly why you require my presence tonight,” he mutters, beginning to unbutton his shirt.
Your eyes widened in utter shock, a facade of panic when deep down you were so close to getting exactly what you’ve wanted. “Leon? Are you— Are you disrobing?”
“Are you planning to make me beg for this? I can’t handle it any longer. And I know you can’t either,” he mutters passionately, lulling your heart from his poetic confession. “Just say the words, my dearest. Tell me what you want.”
Behind those mesmerizing shades in your eyes leave something much more desirable that Leon can sense. Your doe, heated eyes behind the blinds of time, slowly traveling up his chest and bare skin, lips parting like an invitation for him. You tried so hard maintaining your blood thirst that it took every fiber of your being to hold yourself back for years now. It was like a blaring siren overtaking your ears, your chest thundering and pounding erratically, and your gut screaming at you that it was finally time to feast on the man you’ve been keeping your eye on for so long…
“Leon… If we do this, we must—“
“—be discreet, yes. There was nobody around before I entered, your grace. Everybody else had retired to their chambers.”
You stammered on your own words as he undoes the rest of his undergarments, shielding your eyes and turning away as he dips into the rose petal bath. If only he knew your veneer bashfulness towards him, wickedly hypnotizing him with your sultry eyes and mind…
“Your grace. Is this alright with you?” he reassures. “You can, uh… turn around whenever you’re comfortable.”
Ever so slowly you face him, inhaling deeply and sighing softly at the sight of his flesh and body before you. His skin drizzled with drops of water was so beautiful, pale and mysterious, a man that walked straight out of your twisted fairytale. Your hands moved as if it possessed a mind of its own, delicately caressing him and ambling closer to the point he can breathe you in. Just how longer can you bear yourself around him?
“My prince,” you passionately whisper, inclining your neck to take in his warm bright blue eyes and the tingling feeling of his nose brushing against yours.
The bathroom was dimly lit, glinted in darker shades; somber, sultry, and sacred. All air had escaped your lungs, panting heavily and trembling lips parted like an invitation for each other. The gap between you was now inevitably thin. Leon’s hands slide down the slope of your ribs and the curves of your hip, a thrilling shiver coursing in your veins.
“Yes. I can’t begin to explain how much of a… wicked man I am for you,” he murmurs. “You effortlessly bewitch and beguile me. And I must—I must not only tell, but show these strong feelings I have for you. It torments my soul every morning and every night…”
“As does mine, Leon…”
“Tonight, right here in this bath we share… You’re my queen. I live to please and satisfy you, Y/N.”
He dips his head further, pulling you by the neck and settling onto his lips, smiling in between your passionate kiss. Hands wandering the perfect canvas of his skin, he was pressed against the walls of the bathtub as you melted into the kiss. Not only can you taste him, but you can smell his blood so up close, an inferno of passion which was also your tempestuous hell. Your heart became a cauldron, ablaze with yearning and maddening, pulsing blood lust. In a rapturous fervour, your body falls under your unquenched, carnal hunger for him.
“I love you, Y/N,” you hear him murmur. “I love you, I love you, I love you… Let us consume each other right here.”
Consume each other…
Your eyes were forced shut, concealing the wicked change of color in your eyes, emerging into your primal, vampire state. You enchant him with lips grazing against his neck, breathing slowly as his human scent invades you tremendously. He arches his neck with the back of his head resting on the bathtub’s edge, eyes closed in ecstasy from the way you drizzled his body with kisses that were soon to be your markings. Your rapacious desire, your dangerous craving and insatiable taste for blood that no one could ever know, not even the prince himself, has finally risen like the full moon. Terror was now your fine embodiment…
“Oh, Leon… I’ve always wondered what you taste like.”
You finally bared your fangs, its sharpness shining in the light of the moonshine peaking through the windows. Your piercing, cranberry-colored eyes flickered one last time onto Leon’s face like a predator feening on its prey that it just captured. His eyelids began to flutter as he gazed upon the ceiling like he was lost in his own world, somewhat contemplating the words you just spoke of. But as the candelight flickered and the air thickened, you were ready to feed.
“Taste like..?”
With no warning your fangs sink deep into his neck, draining him so harshly as you enthralled in your long-awaited bloodgasm and feral lust. His body beneath you squirmed and writhed, his eyes meeting your predatory, bone-chilling gaze as he was about to scream and shriek from the pain and terror. But you cover his mouth, hissing as he struggled to escape from your grasp until you feel his body going cold, his eyes falling heavy, his heart beating slowly, breath hitching, and his strength staggering. You kept marking him all over his neck and chest, robbing him of his delicious blood that you were sent into a frenzy, intoxicated state. A beautiful bloodgasm.
“Your grace, what— what are you…?” Leon groggily whispers, rendered numb and dazed from how much blood you drained out of him. “Are you— are you gonna kill me?!”
You may have felt a little remorseful for ruining him like this, but after all, this was your mission from the beginning. Nothing but an ardent relationship that arbitrarily developed into something much deeper, where you kept holding back on the days you were dutied to drink him then kill him. You can see the betrayal and longing behind his eyes. The fear staggering in his ribs that you can feel his heart thundering. He was still under your spell, hypnotized and mystified by your seduction, which was why he didn’t react so frantic or hostile. Perhaps he was riveted deep down, stupefied beyond belief of who you really are behind your lovely facade… The poor Prince Leon was a goddamn fool.
“I won’t... If you be obedient for me,” you reassured to him tantalizingly, noticing him quiver as you ran your sharpened lacquered almond nails down his chest.
“So this was your plan all along…? Reveal yourself to me before I’m crowned king?” Leon retaliates weakly. “How were… how were you able to live without… drinking blood?”
“What do you think happened to all our prisoners in the dungeons? All the innocent civilians going missing and found dead from loss of blood,” you smirked, Leon’s blood still draped all over your lips, teeth, and chin. “You should be grateful that you’re the only man I’ve shown mercy to. And with all my markings on your Heavenly body… you may be fatigued from how much I drank, but you’re still alive and useful. For now.”
Leon growled in frustration his nose flaring and his breath hitching, unable to fathom his demise. He still couldn’t move his arms, for all of his limbs remained numb and his strength rendered docile. “Damn you! What— what is it that you really want, Y/N? I know you’re not only thirsting after my blood— I demand an answer!”
“You… you will be my consort as we terrorize this kingdom and its people together, leaving us as the rightful vampire heirs,” you taunted, seizing every nerve in Leon’s modified body. “The night we have our dinner party, our guests will be treated with a special meal— paralyzing them just for us to feed on their blood and celebrate our triumph. The more we feed, the more we become powerful.”
“I— I would never!” the prince retorts, his voice suddenly cracking from his surge of emotions washing over him. “I loved you, Y/N! This wasn’t… this wasn’t the future I wanted with you…”
“That’s such a shame. With the changes going on in your body right now, our bloodlust future together is inevitable. You already belong to me, Prince Leon Kennedy.”
Moonlight washes over his face, eyes wincing from how rapid his heart was thundering in his chest. Every nerve in his body was on high-alert, tearing inside him in such agonizing, razor-sharp pain. In that fleeting moment, with every heavy breath he takes as his body surrenders to this brain-fazing sensation, he was no longer himself. Your daunting words and hypnotism dwells within his skull, corrupting him in vulgar, ravenous ways.
Not one word was spoken as he embraced the roaring pain slashing in his body like acid. He felt enraged. He felt animalistic. He felt thirsty. He felt… plagued by such a forbidden desire, your seduction like grotesque death to him. Corrupted by lust, he is now a dark incarnate. No longer a human. No longer a king.
He was a bloodlusted man that serves his only purpose of pleasuring you.
“I— I belong to you, Your Grace.”
You smiled a wicked smile, catching a glimpse of Leon’s new fangs as he parts his lips for you like an invitation. The innocence, purity, and humanity that would pool behind his beautiful eyes is now ravaged with salacious filth and hunger. His humanity and dignity will now forever remain unobtainable. With the man you loved and favored reborn as one of the most deadliest, sinister creatures to scorch the Earth, you were an indestructible pair…
Leon tossed away his chastity, his honor, his celibacy the moment your lips clashed together, savoring every bit of each other to engrave in your minds. His immoral lust was a feast of flavors that blazed wildly like an untamed flame. A low growl in his throat as he kissed you so hard and rough, wanting you to bite down on his lips with your sharp fangs. Sensations coursed through his body, transferring to your flesh. Water mixed with blood was splashing onto the floor as Leon tried to push you against the wall this time for control, but he your affect rendered the depraved man docile. He couldn’t win over you, no matter how physically capable he was.
“Your— Your grace,” he gasped, looking down at the water as your swollen cunt started grinding against his aching cock. “Please, I need to feel you… I’ve been waiting for so long to experience this ecstasy with you…”
“Oh, my poor prince,” you feigned a pout, planting kisses on neck and behind his earlobe. “Vampires don’t make love. Vampires don’t indulge in intimacy… We only consume. We ravage. Human blood and power is our lustful cravings for eternity, but you, Leon… Your love is the only lethal drug I can inject into my bloodstream to satiate me.”
“I don’t care what I am anymore, Y/N. As a human, as a king, as a vampire, as a dead man… I’ll always be a cruel, withered man crawling back to you with maddening hunger. My lustful craving was always you. You alone satiate me more than anything in this rotten world.”
You had no idea what took over you at that passionate, endearing moment shared with Leon… but everything fell foggy as you were sitting on top of his cock and kissing him at the same time, hearing the water sloshing around as you moved your hips on him with sultry rolls. He felt better than you had fantasized before; pinpricks of electricity and intensity blossoming inside you, hearing him whimper and groan in your ears as he fills you up so good. It was a whirlwind of pleasure and torture, carnality and filth, intimacy and immorality… Your body enthralled in the exquisite affection Leon has been longing for, causing you to betray your heartless nature.
Leon as a newborn didn’t get a chance to drink a human’s blood, but this fervent moment with you was saccharine of all things. Your pussy wrapped around his cock was like coveted treasure, his prized possession, pulsing erratically inside you that he wanted to release. Holding your waist in his large hands, he’d buck his hips and fuck into you as you held onto him. Such filthy, cloying sounds you made as you threw your head back, him holding your waist up and forcing you to take all of it. He adorned you, every inch of your crevice, every part of your wicked, corrupted soul.
Orgasm after orgasm, rippling waves after waves, crying the most beautiful hymn that Leon has ever heard. You’ve never been so defeated and plagued by tenderness, by passion, by several love confessions from Leon. But you were undeniably raptured from how hard you both kept coming and coming in the heat of the moment, clinging onto each other as you made love and recited your vows in the bathtub.
“Such an obedient man you are for me,” you praised. “As my consort in our new kingdom, what else can you do for me?”
Leon, smitten and trapped in a daze by you, no longer possessed humanity. No morality, no rectitude, no virtue. As long as he can thrive off pleasuring you, he will fall to his knees and always be at your command.
“I will kill for you, Your Grace...”
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ALL WORKS BELONG TO VILSOO © 2023. do not steal, plagiarize, translate, or repost/share any of my works on any social media where minors have access. original art here (artist unknown)
inspired by the bathtub scene from Queen of the Damned (2002) and “Knight of Relaxation” by Naudio on Quinn.
𖤐 TAGS. @crysugu @rinshoe @cran-berry-vodka @daddyzzlittlewhore @kimekioo @strawberrymilk4k @maidenssymphony @willsdollface @zippertwat @strawstfu @migueloharacumslut @maddietries @milestacy @blackhoodlea @bru1sedclavicle @dollicries @hehehehesthings @dvafoxxystrashcan
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Text
✧˖°. EVERYTHINGS ALRIGHT WHEN SHE CALLS ME BACK
content: the last one...this was fun yall...see you on the other side 🫡🫡🫡 be brave, soldiers, be brave
percy had been speeding for the past thirty minutes, as the car had devolved into chaos. frank and jason were holding their phones in crazy positions, desperate to get a connection. leo was attempting to charge his phone with the crappy cord percy had in his car, bent in strange ways but he never got a steady charge.
"buy a new charger, you fucker," leo muttered with a glare in percy's direction.
"charge your phone at night, you little shit," percy grit out in response, his eyes scanning a passing sign.
"WAIT- what did that sign say???"
"next towns in three miles," jason called back, leaning towards percy as he appeared to be chasing a connection. percy shoved him away and pressed harder on the gas petal as leo stared at the clock that was glaring red at him, proudly presenting the time.
11:45
fuck
they came flying into the small town, percy slamming on the brakes basically as frank pointed out a parking spot. the three of them leapt out, frank climbing onto of percy's car and holding his phone higher.
"anything??" leo called and frank just shook his head before getting on his tip toes. leo bit out a few spanish curses, spinning around and looking around desperately.
"diner!" percy called, pointing at it, and instantly the four boys were springing into it, breathing heavily before the poor waitress, who gave them a strange look.
"hey- do you, do you have a phone i could borrow?? i need to tell a girl i love her," leo confessed, out of breath, and the woman frowned at him.
"oh, im sorry, baby, but our phone broke earlier this morning," the woman replied and leo hung his head, every second that passed another moment that yn gave up on him calling at all.
"oh! but, there's a payphone over at the gas station," the woman remembered, snapping her fingers before pointing across the street a few blocks down. leo looked up and pumped his fist before rooting through his pockets, looking for a few quarters or really anything. he turned his pockets inside out to produce lent only.
"any of you got change?" he hissed out, impatiently and bouncing on his feet as the boys also dug through their pockets.
"c'mon, c'mon, c'mon," muttered leo, glancing up at the clock that was hung in the restaurant before groaning and urging his friends on more.
11:52
FUCK
"here, this one's on me, boys. go get that girl, yeah?" the kind waitress offered, holding out three quarters for leo.
"thank you, thank you, thank you!" leo cheered, grabbing them from her hand and shoving them into his pocket as he scrambled out of the diner. he ran the few blocks that separated him from the payphone, from yn. he was trying to calm his breathing as he slid the coins into the machine, the phone held between his shoulder and ear.
he waited for the robotic voice to tell him to put in the number he wanted to call, his fingers working on autopilot. it wasn't hard, he only had three numbers memorized. his moms, 911, and yours. and 911 was on a good day, okay. he didn't have a watch or anything to check what time it was, but he has vivid memories of barely passing the mile in high school so there was no way running those blocks was fast.
the phone rang once...then twice...then three times
by the fourth ring leo was leaning his head against the machine, prepared to bash his brain in right then and there.
but then the phone crackled and he heard angel's sing
"hello?"
well, not quite sing, but he was certain it was an angel.
"gods, yn, im so glad you picked up," leo breathed into the phone, a smile slowly growing on his lips at your voice.
"leo?? what- what phone are you calling me off of right now?" you asked, confusion clear in your voice.
"umm a payphone in some town that i don't even know the name of," leo answered and you snorted on the other side of the phone, leo's smile growing still.
"okayyyyyyyy," you replied once your giggles died out, "can i ask why?"
"because i love you," leo answered instantly, get a small amount of pleasure out of the gasp from you.
"gods, i love you so so much, yn. i've been in love with you for so long, i think i forget. which is why i chased all those girls and kept going back to she-who-must-not-be-named. and i know that's no an excuse, i know. and i would understand if you want to beat the shit out of me, or never speak to me. but i can die happy knowing that you know how i feel about you. ill die with a fucking smile on my face if i means that i gave it a shot and told the girl of my dreams im completely in love with her," leo rambled, squeezing his eyes shut as he took a wet breath, swallowing down whatever was choking at his throat. probably the love he held for yn but whatever.
"leo," you breathed out on your end, sounding like you were on the verge of crying, and leo realized he never wanted to be the cause of your tears again. the squeezing of his chest hurt too much.
"please, yn, please. im sorry, im so sorry. i'll spend the rest of my life making up for it...if- if you'll let me," leo begged into the phone. and he knew his voice was pitchy and whiney in a way that would have him mocked and ridiculed for a very long time if the boys every heard him, but leo couldn't find it in himself to give a shit. all that mattered now was you and youre voice on the other side of the phone.
"do you- do you have any idea how long i've waited for you to say that, leo valdez?" you hizzed on your end, sniffling as leo breathed out a soft laugh.
"i know, im sorry, baby. lemme make it up to you," offered leo and you were already swooning on your side of the phone, shaking your head and leaning back into your pillows trying to hide your blush from yourself.
"you've got a lot of making up to do," you mused and leo hummed.
"would a date chip away at my debt to you? a real proper date?" he offered, his fingers crossed as he waited with baited breath for your answers. you took signifcantly longer than you needed to, toying with him even though you both knew what your answer would be.
"it's definitely a start, valdez."
"that's all i need. just one chance," replied leo, smiling brighter than the sun, surely. it was starting to hurt his cheeks but he couldn't find it in him to stop.
"oh, and i love you, too," you whispered and leo chuckled, resting his head against the plexiglass that surrounded the payphone.
"thank the gods! you have no idea the trouble i went through to make this call happen," leo laughed into the phone, smiling as you joined him.
"well, i can't wait to hear all about it on our dateeee," you squealed, unable to hide your excitement at the thought that you finally had a date with the boy you've always been in love with.
"hell, yeah. our date, let's go!!" leo cheered, shaking his head as you laughed more into the phone.
"you're probably running out of time on the payphone, huh?" you questioned and leo frowned at the thought, not wanting to be done talking with you...ever.
"probably. stupid machine," leo huffed, with the intention of drawing more laughs from you, which of course happened.
"call me later?" you offered, biting your lip as you waited for his response.
"if i could stay on the phone with you forever, i would. you already know im calling you back at the first opportunity."
"good." you nodded despite the fact that he couldn't see you.
"just make sure to pick up, okay?" leo stated and you rolled your eyes.
"on the first ring, of course."
"that's my girl," leo breathed out, enjoying just being with you, even if it was only over the phone.
"finally, your girl," you teased and leo rolled his eyes, mocking you from his side of the phone.
"whatever. it'll be worth the wait," insisted leo and you couldn't find it in yourself to argue. leo went to add something but then a click was heard and the robotic voice replaced your angelic one.
your call has been disconnected due to insufficient funds. please hang up the phone and try again if you'd like to call them back. if not, we hope your phone call was satisfactory and that you have a great day.
✶⋆.˚ taglist: @ivyy-covered-walls @puffoz @brodieland @sunshine-of-ur-life @literallyimthenerdemoji @aezuria @pro-oddity @imasimpdealwithit @shimas-things12 @butterandhoneytoast @rlqfpdl @daniskywalkersolo @pumpkinbxtch @mayo-0-o @hannenomical @eliseisclinicallyinsane @ellipsisspelled @percys-princess @aryxchse @vodkori @seaweedpuff301 @defnotfertilizedtoesw @annybah @riordanness @balletfilmss @meerpea @ssparksflyy @simha-nakshatra
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lovebugism · 7 months
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omg omg omg I can’t wait for tcar part 9 🥹 I miss eddie spaghetti and peach so much 🥹🥹🥹
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THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | sunshine, sometimes
summary: the gang searches for peace of mind at lake lemon. after an enlightening conversation with steve, eddie unknowingly stirs up a storm. (17k)
pairing: virgin!eddie munson / f!reader, mentions of past steve harrington / f!reader
tags: experienced!reader, idiots in love, domestic bliss (road trip edition), newly established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort, the gang's all here! TW probable typos, swearing, mentions of b*lly h*rgrove and toxic relationships, kissing, heavy petting, fingering, eddie coming in his pants (vol. 3), smut 18+
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 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
You think it’s entirely possible that you made Eddie up in your head.
Sleeping next to you, painted in satin shades of pale pink and milky white, he looks exactly like a dream.
His curls are wild, spread across his face and cotton pillow in a chestnut-colored halo around his head. Soft snores billow from his rosy mouth in heavy, even breaths — a heavenly sound you think could lull you back to sleep all over again. His long lashes flutter against the flushed apple of his cheek, made a gentle strawberry shade from the ardor of his slumber. The soft color splotches the tip of his nose and the plush of his lips.
Eddie’s made of all the prettiest colors you wish you could paint. Maybe then he’d finally see himself the way you do. He possesses an otherworldly kind of beauty — one bordering on religious — something holy people used to sacrifice themselves for.
And here he is. In your bed and on your mouth, like a vivid ruby lipstick stain you’re not rushing to rub out just yet. Or ever, if you had anything to say about it.
“I can feel you staring, weirdo,” Eddie mumbles, slurred and heavy with sleep. The words come out muffled because his face is shoved into the pillow.
You’re not as embarrassed at getting caught as you probably should be. 
You could deny it if you wanted. His eyes are still shut. You’ve got every ounce of plausible deniability to defend yourself with, but for some strange reason, you don’t feel the urge to. He was far too pretty not to be unabashedly examined, like a piece of art you could stare at for ages and find something new in every time.
“Really?” you hum in return, voice as quiet with leftover fatigue as your sleepy smile. “I didn’t know my boyfriend had superpowers.”
The smile that tugs at Eddie’s mouth is absentminded but no less sincere. It’s lopsided and rosy and full of all the love he has for you. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of being called your boyfriend. He figures his chest will swell every time he hears the words — as long as they spill from your mouth, anyway.
“You weren’t supposed to know about that,” he teases quietly — eyes still shut, grin still pressed into the pillow.
“I can keep a secret,” you promise in a whisper. Your hand rises from beneath the fluffy comforter to spread across his cheek. Your palm settles warmly at his jaw as your fingers brush a few rogue curls from his forehead. “As long as you give me a kiss for it.”
Eddie’s smile, weighed down by sleep and adoration, only widens at your words. 
His button eyes are swollen as he blinks the haze of sleep from them. It feels a little like his heart has stopped when he’s able to see you clearly. 
It’s like he’s looking down a high-up cliff or staring into the deep abyss of outer space — a warm, empty, and lurching feeling in his chest that only comes from witnessing something so profound.
The profundity in question is you.
It’s your wild hair and puffy cheeks and crooked smile. It’s the way your swollen eyes twinkle with adoration at an ungodly hour of the morning. The way your honey voice seems to match the golden sunrise. You’re an angel in the flesh — a divinely ethereal being wearing his Hellfire tee to sleep in. 
The beauty you are takes him by surprise for all of half a second. It makes him forget how to breathe and makes his brain go all fuzzy. It’s like he’s seeing you for the first time every time he looks at you.
“Well, as long as it’ll keep you quiet,” Eddie huffs, feigning annoyance, as he lifts his head off the pillow to settle onto yours. 
His plush lips press against your subtle smile a second later. Your mouths entwine something heavy, like maple syrup or marshmallow fluff — a kiss so full of sleep and distant longing.
But that’s all it is. A kiss. It’s nothing more than an innocuous peck that Eddie stamps upon your mouth. His nose smushes into the side of yours, and he’s gone as quickly as he came. 
Your shut eyes flutter open again. They widen when Eddie ducks down for another sneaking peck. He lingers a few moments longer this time, like he can’t quite get enough of you the same way you can never seem to get enough of him.
Your grin grows. You feel a bit like you’re glittering all over when Eddie settles back onto the mattress. But maybe that’s just the rising sun peeking in flaxen shades from the window — or maybe it’s love sparkling like orange embers in your chest. Maybe it’s both. 
Maybe loving Eddie feels pink and gold like the sun rising in the east and setting in the west.
It’s just as easy, anyway.
“Ooh,” you singsong with a smile as you prop yourself on your elbow. “Two for one deal, huh?”
The boy shrugs one shoulder. His leadened lids fall over his chocolate syrup eyes when sleep threatens to pull him under again. He shifts against the mattress to get comfortable, though it’s much harder without you pressed against him.
“I gotta secret identity to protect, sweets. Gotta make sure we keep it under wraps and everything, you know?” The tired boy’s mumbles are followed by a hearty yawn that scrunches his sleep-ridden features.
“Well, you can pry this secret from my cold, dead hands,” you lilt quietly, leaning down to sprinkle a featherlight kiss to his flushed cheek. His skin is warm against your mouth, rosy with a good night’s sleep.
“Well, except for Robin,” you whisper shortly thereafter. “I have to tell Robin.”
Eddie exhales sharply through his nose in place of a laugh.
“And Steve, too. He’ll be mad if I tell Robin and not him.”
“Right,” Eddie scoffs with a tired nod against his pillow.
You can tell he’s trying hard to stay awake for you. He’d done this the night before, too — kept talking to you even though his body was threatening to shut down after a long day of school and road-tripping. You’d called him out on it then, and he confessed that it hurt too much to stop talking to you. He said he’d rather be exhausted than miss you, even for the faintest fraction of a second.
A smile hints at the corners of your lips as you stare down at the boy. You duck down once more to brush a fleeting kiss to the warm apple of his cheek — there and gone again. 
Eddie sighs at the heavenly feeling, then scrunches his features in annoyance when the mattress shifts beneath him.
“Where are you going?” he grouses over the sound of your padding feet and the door creaking open. He’s got one tired eye squinted when he rises to look at you over his shoulder. His untamed curls are as drenched with sleep as the rest of his softly swollen features.
You stand in the doorway and smile back at him. You don’t look nearly as exhausted as he does. That’s only because you spent the better part of the morning ogling at him, of course, but he doesn’t need to know that. 
It wouldn’t change anything, anyway.
Slumber looks too good on you. It’s got you glowing like a pink and orange sunrise, grinning like the morning dew has kissed you. It’s a very distinct part of your beauty that took Eddie several days of unabashed staring to understand. You’ve got a far-off kind of quality about you, dreamlike. 
You’re a nymph made of flower petals with unearthly eyes and angelic lips. You’re a swan princess who’s enchanted his imagination. His mind can’t go anywhere without bumping into thoughts of you — like some romantic spell you’ve cast upon him.
Still a bit grumpy with sleep and overcome with yearning, Eddie makes a mental note to add you to a future campaign. What better way to tell someone you love them than by making them your muse, solidifying them in the history of you forever?
“I’m gonna tell everyone that my boyfriend is basically the metalhead equivalent of Clark Kent,” you joke with a crooked smile that flashes your similarly crooked teeth.
The door creaks when it shuts behind you. Eddie’s chest aches with the empty feeling of missing you. The warmth of adoration lingers, however, as though you’d never left at all.
 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
Thankfully, no one had gotten Jason Voorhees-ed while you were sleeping.
You make your rounds about the cabin, peeking into darkened bedrooms and making sure everyone was where you’d left them. You knew Robin hadn’t truly meant her words from the day before, about Ted Bundy or some equivalent creep stalking the woods of Lake Lemon. She’s sincere but in a blatantly irrational sort of way. Sweet but slightly insane. She’s an illogical genius that unintentionally gets in your head.
You’re grateful to find that you hadn’t woken up in the middle of slasher film, however. You’re able to exhale a trembling sigh of relief as you walk into the kitchen.
Steve The Hair Harrington unknowingly keeps you company as you break out the supplies needed to make a couple of teenagers a sufficient breakfast. His soft snores fill the quiet cabin from where he’s sprawled out in the center of the pull-out couch in the living room. He’s twisted in a thin white sheet and gripping a single pillow like his life depends on it.
He used to hold you like that, too. Like you were a buoy in an ocean and the only thing keeping him afloat. He’d cage you in his arms with a grip that only seemed to intensify with his sleep. It felt like being suffocated almost. But in a good way.
The memory is glittering with reminiscence instead of soaking in heartache. 
You don’t miss being with Steve, nor do you miss the person you were when you were with him. You do miss the closeness of him, though — in the simplest, most human way. Also, you just really like taking the piss out of him and all his little idiosyncrasies.
With his sleeping form so near, everything you do feels so much louder in the quiet. The fridge closes too aggressively, the eggs crack too sharply, the cabinets close too harshly. You grimace with every noise you make, checking over your shoulder to make sure Steve hadn’t heard from across the room.
He hadn’t. ‘Cause he tends to sleep like he’s hibernating.
He doesn’t rouse when a humming car crunches against gravel when it pulls into the driveway outside — or when the bowl of pancake batter in your hands clatters to the countertop accordingly.
The milky white concoction sways in the container, splashing in pearly dots onto the gray granite. You’re too distracted to focus on the mess. Your heart starts to race at the appearance of the sudden visitor with the irrational thought that Ted Bundy was strolling up to your doorstep like some kind of offbeat traveling salesman. 
God, you need to stop hanging out with Robin so much. Or watching so many horror movies. Maybe both.
Because it’s only Nancy. 
It’s sweet, beautiful, lithe Nancy Wheeler and her beat-up Station Wagon. 
Her curly hair is cropped at her shoulders, hastily combed through and pinned out of her face with a butterfly clip. Her pretty pink skirt swishes around her knees as she reaches for a leather satchel in the backseat. Her purple and white Emerson College tee is tucked into it, matching the same-colored Converse on her feet.
“Hey,” she greets with a pretty wave and delicate smile when she catches sight of you in the doorway.
“Hi…” you respond, mixed with a breathy sigh of what should be relief. 
Because she isn’t Ted Bundy — or some local Lake Lemon serial killer. She’s far too pretty and far too kind to be either of those. But your heart still thrums something fierce against your ribcage when you look at her. You’re still drenched with ice-cold fear when you know you should be relieved.
But despite your clammy trembling hands, you hold the door open for her.
She winces at the sight of Steve’s sleeping figure on the couch, ocean eyes widening at his freckled back peeking from beneath the thin sheet. Her footsteps become noticeably lighter as you lead her into the kitchen. 
It’s far too big for just the two of you. The open space is filled only with a distant awkwardness and the potent smell of sweet vanilla you’d dropped into the pancake batter.
“Sorry…” Nancy grimaces as she sets her bag on the dining table, as though her company was something she needed to be excused for. Her bushy brows pinch together, and her doe-eyes swim with apology. “I know I was supposed to be here last night…”
You shift your weight on your feet across from her, arms wrapping around yourself for further comfort. She’s just a few feet away from you, but the distance feels cavernous.
“Yeah, is— is everything, you know… okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, it’s just— it’s dumb,” Nancy scoffs out a laugh, shrugging off your worry with ease. Her gaze flits to the ceiling. You can see smudged eyeliner around her eyes, like she’s still wearing yesterday’s makeup. “I got carried away with the school paper after school, and I didn’t get home until late, and I… I figured I should just wait until morning to make the drive, you know?
You nod slowly in response — for a couple seconds too long, maybe — as you think of what else to say. “Well, was, uh— was traffic okay, at least?”
“Yeah. It was fine,” she answers and bites back a yawn. “People around here are amazing drivers, you know, so… It was a perfect, anxiety-free three hours.”
Her plush pink lips curl into a smile. 
Yours follow suit, but the breathy laugh that spills from them feels much more forced.
“You’re probably tired, huh?” you wonder, then ramble before she can answer you. “I could get Steve to move upstairs with Robin— or Robin can come down here, and you can take the bed. Unless you wanna share with her, but fair warning, she does kick in her sleep, so…”
A giggle spills from Nancy’s mouth. It’s a soft, bubbly sound that squints the edges of her eyes. Her pointed chin tucks to her chest like she’s trying to hide the gentle grin from you. 
You can’t tell if she finds your babbling amusing or endearing like Eddie does. 
You quickly realize you don’t care — you’re just proud that you’ve made her smile. And, fuck, you can’t even blame Steve for wanting her more than you because look at her. You should hate her, yet you can’t take your eyes off her.
“No, I’m good. We can… deal with all that when everyone wakes up, I guess,” she dismisses with a shake of her head. 
You vaguely catch her eyes darting past you to the tornado of breakfast behind you — a whirlwind of uncooked food, miscellaneous containers, and crumbled napkins. It’s a mess only a gentle, well-meaning child could make. That’s what you feel like most days, anyway, so you guess it kind of fits.
“Do you want help with breakfast?” Nancy wonders when her gaze flits back to you.
You can’t tell if she’s asking to be kind or if she really wants to. You decline either way. “No. You’ve— You’ve been driving all morning.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” you affirm with a wavering smile.
Her grin is equally sheepish. She falters, a tad bit awkwardly at first, before mumbling something and heading out the back door to explore.
A trembling sigh of relief shakes through your chest when the sliding glass door swishes shut behind her. 
It gets better over time — the preliminary tension that settles like suffocating humidity between the two of you — but it never gets any easier. A forgive but can’t forget sort of rigidity you can’t quite smooth out.
You get only a few more minutes of uninterrupted solitude after Nancy’s gone. The last bit of peace you’re bound to have all day.
A door clicks open and shut again from down the hallway, followed by the subtle scuff of socked feet against carpet. 
Your eyes widen softly when Dustin appears from around the corner, though you figure you really shouldn’t be surprised. Of course he was the kid that woke up before the rest of his friends. You feel a bit like you should fix him a cup of black coffee while he reads the business section of the newspaper. He’s far more mature than you were at fourteen.
“Oh,” you hum quietly, a soft smile twitching at the edges of your lips. “Morning.”
Dustin’s swollen eyes squint at you. His gaze darts around the room, as wild as the chestnut curls on his head. It’s strange not seeing him in his usual Thinking Cap. He looks a little foreign in his baggy blue Scooby Doo pajama pants and baggier yellow Camp Know-Where tee.
“Where’s Eddie?” he wonders aloud when he turns back to you, like he can’t quite fathom seeing one of you without the other somewhere nearby.
Your chest aches. You don’t know why. 
Well, you do, but you figure it shouldn’t hurt as bad as it does. 
Dustin was Eddie’s friend. He had zero obligation to care about you the same way. He didn’t have to like you past his not-so-subtle admiration for your boyfriend, but it still hurts that he doesn’t think you’re as cool.
“Uh… Still sleeping. I think,” you lilt, voice as high and light as the salty breeze slipping past the slightly ajar backdoor.
“Oh. Okay.” Dustin nods and doesn’t say anything further. He doesn’t seem as weighed down by the silence as you are. He peeks over his shoulder at Steve’s rousing figure on the couch and then at the pots and pans of food on the counter. His tired blue eyes fill with light when they flit at you again. “Can I help?”
He’s suddenly aglow with a boyish sort of enthusiasm. His bushy brows raise and a smile pulls at his face, and you find it dreadfully hard to tell him no.
“Sure. If you want to, but—” You’re about to prattle on and on about how he shouldn’t feel obligated to. That he’s a kid on vacation and can sleep in if he wants. That he shouldn’t have to worry about helping you if he doesn’t really want to.
But he’s already walking to the sink, flipping on the faucet so he can wash his hands.
Your aching heart swells with warmth.
 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
The rest of your friends wake up one by one.
Mike and El come out shortly after Dustin, the latter already dressed for the day. She’s a ray of sunshine compared to her grumpy boyfriend. His hair is a wild raven halo, and his cheeks are lined with indentions from the sheets. El hangs on his arm in a pair of jean coveralls, sparkling like the cerulean waters outside. 
“Wanna call Hopper?” you ask the blushing girl from where you scramble eggs at the stove.
She nods with her cheek smushed into Mike’s shoulder, eyes wide and sheepish like she’s embarrassed about wanting to talk to her dad. You don’t blame her for it. You tend to call Hopper after most minor inconveniences. 
Dustin mans the kitchen while you help her with the telephone. He’s very meticulous about the cooking, like he’s got flipping pancakes down to a science. He’s too good of a sous-chef for you to get mad at him for stealing from the stack every now and then.
Robin and Max are sitting at the dining table by the time you get back. They’re practically zombies, silent and grumpy, with their freckled features scrunched like they take offense to the early morning.
Lucas is the last of the kids to come out, though a part of you thinks it might’ve been intentional. 
He’s traded his pajamas for day clothes — Hawkins Tigers track pants and a fitted t-shirt. He idles in the kitchen for several long moments with his trembling hands balled into fists. You can tell he wants to sit next to Max. The thought of rejection keeps him from gravitating towards her, though. Instead, he stands at the counter next to Dustin and tries to hide his grieving.
Steve comes second to last — which is strange, because he was the first one there in a sense. The volume in the kitchen grows too loud for him to ignore. When he comes to the begrudging realization that there’s no falling back to sleep, he decides to join the rest of you.
His feet trudge down the hall when he returns from the bathroom. The only remnants of slumber he wears are the sweatpants and wrinkled t-shirt he’d thrown on sometime after waking up. His structured features are seemingly too sharp to be weighed down by fatigue.
“Where are those little shits going?” he wonders in the place of any actual greeting. He eyes Mike and El as they depart through the sliding glass door. His bushy brows scrunch in confusion and distant worry — neither of which ever seem to leave him.
“Probably to talk to Nancy—”
“What?” Steve sputters, wide-eyed and gaped mouth. “Nancy’s— Nancy’s here?”
Your brows pinch at his shock. You scrape fluffy yellow eggs from the skillet into a large bowl, fit to feed a sizable family — yours of which has squeezed like sardines into this cabin. “Well… You did invite her, didn’t you?”
“Well, yeah, but…” he trails off, features twisted in puzzlement. His anxious hands prop against his sweatpant-clad waist. “When did she get in?”
“This morning—”
His eyes fly open once more. His head whips over his shoulder, like he might see her standing there, then turns back to gape at you again. “And you didn’t wake me up?”
You scoff a faint laugh at him. “Why would I wake you up?”
“‘Cause he’s in love with her,” Dustin answers for him, mouth full of the pancake he grips in his right hand. “Obviously.”
“Shut up,” Steve squints at him with all the annoyance of an older sibling despite having been an only child all his life. His irked features relax when his cinnamon gaze flits to you. “Where is she now?”
“Uh… She went for a walk a while ago,” you answer absentmindedly, as though she hadn’t been on your mind the whole time. “I think she’s sitting out by the beach waiting for everyone to get up now, though.”
You and Steve share similarly narrowed eyes when you look out the kitchen window. The brunette girl sits at the square table outside the cabin. You can only see the profile of her pointed features as she smiles up at her younger brother and his girlfriend — a look so full of annoyance it can only be love.
“Maybe take it down a few notches before you try to talk to her, alright, Stevie?” Robin teases from the dining table.
“Yeah,” Lucas lilts with a slow nod, obviously playful in his dogpiling. He leans against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest, trying hard not to smile too wide. “You look a little crazy right now, man.”
“It’s only ��cause you little shits drive me crazy,” Steve defends in a monotone.
“Go tell her breakfast is almost done,” you advise with a sincere smile, though your eyes sparkle with mischief. “You can use that as an excuse to talk to her instead of whatever bullshit you were about to make up.”
Steve nods with a flat face. “Thanks, Peach.”
Dustin and Lucas help you transport the containers of food to the rectangle dining table — pancakes, eggs, sausage, and only halfway stale biscuits. Basically whatever leftover groceries you could find in the cupboards and the fridge.
Steve is too busy idling in one place to bother helping. With his eyes trained on the sliding glass door, it’s too apparent that he’s in his own head. He’s trying hard to work up the courage to talk to a girl he’s known for years now. 
As you sit in your seat at the table — beside Robin, across from Max, with a spare chair open for Eddie on your other side — you watch the fidgeting boy from over your shoulder. His pointed features harden slightly with his newfound bravery, his chest puffing with a wavering breath in. You watch him take a firm step towards the door, but he’s stopped in place by three bodies already walking towards it.
Nancy was already on her way back, with Mike and El at her side. Steve had been too late  — too doubtful of himself, too frightened of the pushed-away problems he’d caused. He’s forced to share awkward, trembling smiles with his first love and not a thing more. 
You feel his heartache as if it were your own.
Eddie’s footsteps stomp, stomp, stomp down the spiral staircase when he finally comes down.
Your heart warms at the very sight of him, as though you were looking at the rest of your life in the flesh — wild hair, swollen eyes, wrinkled t-shirt, and all. It’s too early to smile as wide as you do.
“Morning, Eds,” you greet, because everyone’s too busy stuffing their faces or writhing in unrequited love to do it for you.
His lips curl into a soft smile, weighed down by fatigue but rosy with his love for you. The pink expression grows when he sees the full table and the seat you left open for him. “Morning, sweetheart,” he lilts in response.
“How convenient,” Dustin squints from the head of the table, adjacent to Lucas and Eddie’s vacant seat. He’s got scrambled egg clinging to the side of his mouth as he chastises, “You show up right when breakfast is done.”
“Sorry, Dusty Bun,” Eddie apologizes with a teasing inflection that would imply that he’s not actually sorry. His chair scrapes against the kitchen tile when he pulls it out from under the table. “It’s not my fault I have impeccable timing.”
Your eyes dart to the boy standing beside you. They dance across his sleep-ridden features as your lips quirk in a cheeky half-smile. 
You know better than anyone that he’s only ever late to everything. The only time you can count on him being early is if there’s a Hellfire campaign or when he’s coming in his jeans. 
Eddie grows sheepish with the same understanding. His cheeks flush with a poorly hidden smirk as he sits down next to you. “Don’t say anything, Peach,” he mutters quietly to you.
The table, now sufficiently full, seems to thrum with life. Whether they’re picking at their food like Steve and Lucas, or stuffing their faces like Dustin and Robin, you can’t help but smile softly at each of them. 
They feel like family — like you’ve upped and carried your home with you three hours away. You’d forgotten what not being alone felt like before now. Your chest swells with a newfound life you didn’t even know you were missing.
“Uh, did everyone pack a bathing suit?” you wonder aloud with a bright smile on your face, a measly question to fill the silence and the sound of silverware against porcelain plates.
Everyone nods and hums soft “yeah”’s with their mouths full — except for Eddie. 
The boy beside you stills with his fork in front of his mouth. His dark eyes go wide as he looks over at you. “Oh, fuck,” he mutters in the place of an answer. “I was supposed to pack a bathing suit?”
You find his forgetful disposition rather endearing. You can too easily imagine him standing in the middle of his bedroom, mouthing everything you told him to pack while counting them on his fingers. You can see his brows furrowing with a distant pout while he asks himself “what the hell am I forgetting?”
You’re too in love to be annoyed with him — or ill-prepared.
“I packed trunks for you. It’s okay,” you murmur in response, voice as quiet as the smile you look at him with.
Eddie’s chest aches. It’s too warm to be his heart breaking — too fluffy and sticky and sweet. It’s a burning sort of pain that can only be pure, unadulterated love. 
“God, you are the woman of my dreams, baby,” he confesses lowly, mostly to himself.
You only hear the words leave his mouth because he’s leaning in to kiss you. You don’t meet him halfway, but instead grin softly at his efforts, which you know are bound to be interrupted.  
“Hey!” Dustin scolds through the bite of biscuit in his mouth. “No kissing at the table!”
Robin licks syrup from the corner of her mouth, then concurs through her pancakes, “Yeah. You wanna make everybody here puke or what?”
“Or what,” you answer the rhetorical question, meeting her deadpanned expression with a smile. You tilt your head to your shoulder and scrunch your nose. “Preferably, at least.”
“How about everyone just keep their hands to themselves, yeah?” Steve advises in a monotone. His honey eyes flit around the table with a significant focus on you and Eddie and Mike and El. He waves his fork in his hand, still piercing the cooled piece of scrambled egg he hasn’t eaten yet. “How about that?”
“Okay, Hopper,” you scoff to yourself.
El snorts a quiet laugh from across the table, on Max’s other side.
Steve flashes you an annoyed glance from across Robin sitting between the two of you. Despite his monotoned features, his eyes sparkle with an adoration for you he couldn’t conceal if he wanted to.
He tries to, anyway. 
“Bite me,” he grumbles with narrowed eyes.
Eddie huffs dramatically from beside you. The sound gets your attention — makes you turn your head to look at him again — which is all he really wanted to do, anyway.
“Stop flirting!” the boy grumbles, wide-eyed and chewing through his mouthful. “I’m sitting right here!”
 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
Eddie Munson was never supposed to believe in love at first sight. That stuff was for children, chick flicks, and over-played ballads — not metalheads who’ve never been loved before and have had to improvise all their awkward tenderness accordingly.
But then he met you. And he didn’t love you then, but he knew something was different. Off. Metamorphosing, even. 
It was different from love — whatever strange, foreign thing he was feeling way back when. It didn’t hurt nearly as much, and it didn’t feel like every single one of his atoms had been set ablaze. It was softer, warmer, a gentle familiarity in a stranger who just wanted to get high.
You sat down in front of him on that rotted park bench in the middle of the woods, and it felt like he was staring the rest of his life in the face. There was no falling head over heels like all the songs on the radio said there’d be, but rather an “Oh, hi, it’s you. I hope it’s always gonna be you.”
He feels that foreign, fluffy feeling in his chest even now as he stands on the shore in a pair of trunks you bought because you knew he’d forget his. He watches you wade into the cerulean sea with a lily sort of hesitance. You’re so much smaller than the wide-open, but he loves you so much you seem swallow it all whole anyway. 
You’re a pretty little thing in a canary yellow bikini, sunshine incarnate. Your thighs are round and full. The pudge of your stomach is soft and tender. The scarred marks on your back and shoulders are like so many little kisses, each of which he longs to give you in return.
You possess an intimidating sort of beauty, one that Eddie found easier to admire from afar. You were entirely too captivating — warm and gentle like a summer rain dying to be danced in.
“Stop being such a baby!” Robin calls from further in the water. Her sandy-colored hair is a darker shade from the salty sea and pushed back over her forehead and ears. 
Her chapped lips curl into a pink smile as she looks up at you. Not even she could hide her admiration for your fantastical, demoniacal beauty.
“The water’s not even that bad!” the girl continues in half-hearted taunts. “Just run in!”
“It’s cold!” you insist, shivering when a brutal breeze brushes by. You tense and tighten the grip you have on yourself. Your arms are crossed over your chest in a feeble shield that does little to protect you from the water nipping at your ankles.
Robin cackles at your wincing.
Eddie might’ve defended you if he wasn’t so lost in the eternal blue of you, more infinite than the water you stand in or the sky you idle beneath. 
You look so soft in the golden sunlight, so diabolically angelic. Lithe, unholy, yet pure all the same. Built for sin but looking just like Heaven.
Eddie Munson wasn’t supposed to fall in love. He wasn’t even looking for it until it tripped him, ate him up, and spat him out. The universe does whatever the universe wants sometimes, he figures, and if you can’t laugh at their stupid jokes, then that’s on you.
“Holy shit…” Eddie mumbles as the realization pierces him like a dull needle between his ribcage. That searing, subtle feeling of being in love. 
It’s frightening more than it is anything, really — the understanding that you’re diving into something that could ruin you, something you’re going to let ruin you. There’s nothing but a thin line between love and horror.
“Huh?” Steve hums with a cartoonishly scrunched nose and furrow to his brow.
He was the only one close enough to hear him. Everyone else was separate but still near, using every inch of their reserved space. 
Nancy’s reading a book in one of the lounge chairs with El and Max sunbathing on towels close by. Dustin, Lucas, and Mike are roughhousing in the water — no doubt irking Steve and his lifeguard-esque spidey senses. Robin, meanwhile, was still coaxing you inside.
Eddie’s head snaps in Steve’s direction. He squints through the wisps of gray smoke rising from the grill. “Huh?” he repeats like the idiot he is.
“You said something.” The brunette boy responds. Not a question, but a statement of fact.
“No, I wasn’t,” Eddie sasses back despite having been caught red-handed. He shrugs and crosses his pale arms over his chest. “I was just… I was just talking to myself.”
“Yeah. ‘Cause that’s not weird or anything.”
Eddie bites back a too-harsh jeer. He watches Steve flip a steaming burger on the tiny grill in front of him with a floundering sort of finesse. He scoffs out a laugh. “Making fun of me isn’t gonna compensate for you having absolutely no idea what you’re doing over there, you know?”
“How hard can it be?” Steve wonders, bouncing his shoulders and gesturing with the spatula in his hand. “They’re burgers. Just flip ‘em before the burn, and they’re golden— well, not golden, but… you get it.”
Eddie rolls his eyes at the boy’s blind optimism. Steve’s got all the trappings of a rich kid who never had a fend for yourself night where dinner was just chocolate milk, dry cereal, and pizza rolls. “I thought growing up in the suburbs, you would’ve perfected the art of grilling by now.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly have anyone around that often to teach me, so…”
Steve isn’t exactly playing the woe is me card. He’s just stating a fact that most everyone in Hawkins seems to know by now. It blows the wind out of Eddie’s sails, anyway. 
It’s hard to understand sometimes that Steve’s got his own thing going on — his own secrets with his own trauma he keeps hidden from the rest of the world. Eddie spent his whole life thinking that if he was richer, or if his house was bigger, or if the kids at school liked him more, he might’ve been happier growing up. 
Steve Harrington is living proof that that’s not always true.
Eddie walks a few steps closer to the grill. The smell of smoke and cooked meat pervade him instantaneously. He snatches the spatula from Steve’s hand, who’s too off guard to dodge him. 
His frizzy curls bunch at his shoulders when he tilts his head to the side, flashing the brunette boy a sickly sweet smile. “Let the trailer trash show ya how it’s done, Stevie.”
“First of all, don’t call me that,” he retorts with a flat face, golden biceps crossed tight over the chest of his fitted tee. “And second of all, what the hell do you know about cooking?”
“When you grow up in a trailer park, you know how to make at least two things by the time you’re seven-years-old — pizza rolls in the oven and burgers on the grill.”
Steve’s honey eyes narrow. “I don’t trust you not to poison us, Munson.”
“What? You think I’m gonna poison a bunch of kids and my girlfriend? That’s, like, the lowest of the low,” Eddie defends with bubbly laughter sputtering from his mouth. He flips a smashed burger and lets it sizzle over the low flame before pointing the spatula in Steve’s direction. A mischievous glint sparkles in his eye. “But you, Harrington? You should definitely be worried.”
“…Girlfriend, huh?” 
Eddie, visibly surprised by the lack of a comeback, glances over his shoulder at the boy. His fleetingly puzzled gaze gives way to a teasing pink grin. “Yeah… Jealous?” 
It was a joke, but Steve starts to stutter over himself like he’s guilty of something. “What? No,” he argues between forced laughter. “Why would you— Why would you even say that?”
“‘Cause I actually had the balls to ask out the girl I like, and you’ve been ogling at Nancy for an hour trying to figure out how to talk to her without coming off like a total creep.”
“That’s not… I wasn’t doing that.”
Eddie shrugs. “Okay.”
“I wasn’t.”
“I said okay!”
“Jeez…” Steve concedes with a dramatic huff. “I have no idea what Peach sees in you, ya know?”
“Me neither, honestly,” Eddie confesses with a distant smile, grinning at the grill like he can see you in the wisps of thick smoke. “I always thought it was my strong arms and sparkling personality.” 
“See, that’s what I’m talking about! You can’t be serious about anything!”
“I can be serious about some things.”
“Yeah?” Steve muses with raised brows and a smile that says otherwise. “Like what?”
There’s a million stupid jokes Eddie could make just to piss him off all the more. He swallows them all down in place of something more real. “I don’t know… Peach is pretty cool, I guess… Don’t really wanna fuck that up…”
Steve nods, proud of the answer he wasn’t expecting. “Good. Don’t.”
“And what would you do if I did, tough guy?” Eddie jokes, narrowing his eyes at the boy beside him. “Beat me up?”
He answers without missing a beat. “Yeah.”
“You don’t exactly have the best track record for that. I’m pretty sure you’re on a world-record losing streak, actually.”
“I don’t have to win,” Steve assures with a strange sort of sternness to his words. 
Eddie is visibly shocked by the sudden seriousness, wide-eyed and confused. 
The brunette boy sighs before explaining. “That time I got into that stupid fight with Hargrove, it wasn’t about trying to beat him, you know? I was trying to— I don’t know— I was trying to… keep him from hurting the people I cared about, I guess.”
“Peach?” Eddie presses with furrowed brows.
Steve shoots him a dumbfounded look, confused by the confusion. “She didn’t tell you about that?”
“...No?”
“Then, uh… Never mind.”
Steve closes in on himself all over again — an impenetrable brick wall with abs and a chiseled jawline. Eddie feels so suddenly left out, like there was some secret everyone was in on but him. He abandons the grill entirely. 
“Nope. No way. You have to tell me now.”
“I don’t have to tell you shit, Munson,” Steve scoffs, side-stepping the wild-haired boy and taking his place in front of the grill. The burgers are cooked through now, perfectly seared and smoky. He plates them all like he wasn’t on track to burning them. Eddie lets him do it.
“I swear to god, I will give you food poisoning on purpose, Harrington—”
“It’s not my story to tell, alright?” Steve interjects the half-hearted threat.
“Well, I mean, it sorta is because you were just about to tell it, so…”
The brunette grumbles something under his breath like a rolling storm cloud.
You and Robin watch the encounter from afar, both of you someways from shore. Now submerged to your shoulders in the sapphire water, you’re not nearly as cold as when you first stepped in. It feels as soft as silk now, sparkling around you like diamonds every time you kick your feet to keep yourself afloat.
A smile quirks at your mouth at the sight of the bantering boys — one you used to love and one you think you’ll love forever.
They’re complete and utter opposites of each other. One golden, one pale. One broad, one lean. One with trimmed honey locks that shine golden in the sun, and one with long curls so dark they seem to reject all light entirely. 
They both wear deadpanned looks of utter annoyance on their features, having no idea how close they’re standing to each other.
“The sexual tension is ripe between those two,” you confess to Robin, though it’s mostly for yourself.
“Think they’re gonna kiss?” the brunette girl jokes as she blinks salt water from her eyes.
“I don’t know… They might…” you observe quietly, squinting in the distance in a feeble attempt to read their lips. The conversation seems heated — well, as heated as it gets between two boys who think they’re better off as enemies. 
You long to understand what they’re saying and mourn the fact that you don’t.
“Bet I can get them to kiss by the end of the night, though,” you answer more finally and with a glint to your eye — a result of your looming mischief rather than the glittering sun above you.
“Please, don’t say it…” Robin grimaces.
“Truth or dare,” you singsong with a beaming grin.
The girl makes a pained sound at your words. She bubbles her freckled cheeks and squeezes her eyes shut tight. She ducks herself beneath the water in attempts to hide there, knowing there are some things you just can’t run from.
 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
You hold onto your love for Eddie like so many flowers in your hand. 
It’s a collection of wild things — honeyed daffodils, fluffy white daisies, and pretty pastel forget-me-nots. Their vivid green stems feel like stripes of hardened silk in your palm. 
Maybe you’ll shape them into a crown later, place them on top of your lover’s wild curls the next time you see him. You hope that isn’t too long now.
Max was the one that wanted to go on a hike. Upon the other boys’ insistence of tagging along, she spat like venom in return — “No boys allowed.” And, quite frankly, none of you were in any position to deny Maxine Mayfield of anything.
Robin hadn’t even wanted to go until that moment. She complained she was too tired after a day in the water to spend an evening in the woods. The thought of making fun of Steve seemingly cured her. 
“Yeah,” she lilted with a smile, voice raspy from hours of nonstop laughter. She slid a cap over her drying locks, leaving it backwards and lazy on her head. She bounced her brows and walked backwards behind the group of you. “Go on your own hike, Stevie.”
“We will!” Steve argued in return, like a child not easily left behind.
You can’t be sure of what they’re up to now. Nothing, maybe, or perhaps everything. You just hope Eddie’s missing you as much as you’re missing him — innocently, gently, childishly. 
Maybe he’s seeing your face in the crystalline waves of the sea like you’re seeing his face in the satin petals of the flowers in your hand.
“Having fun?” you ask Max over the subtle crunch, crunch, crunch of grass and leaves and twigs beneath your feet. 
The redhead’s eyes widen at the suddenness of your presence — or rather, how slow she’d been to register it. Noticing her languishing stride, she puts more pep in her step. 
“Tons,” she huffs.
You become a silent observer of Max Mayfield for a moment. You blink at the girl beside you —  with pretty red plaits down her back and pale shoulders peeking from her tank top — and try to make sense of her. It’s an impossible task.
“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not,” you confess with a quiet laugh.
“I’m not,” she affirms with her own scoffed-out chuckle. She tucks a rouge wisp of amber hair behind her ear and averts her gaze to her beat-up sneakers. “It’s… actually been kinda fun so far.”
With a blooming feeling of relief and slight accomplishment, you nod in response. “Good.”
“I just wish the boys weren’t here, though,” she admits with a distant girlishness, kicking a rock with the tip of her shoe. It clunk, clunk, clunks down the hill. She screws her freckled face. “They’re making it all… weird.”
“Weird how?” you press gently. 
You don’t want to push her so hard she closes up again, but you don’t want to stay so quiet she thinks you don’t care. It’s tricky work, getting close to Max Mayfield — like digging through a brick wall with a plastic spoon.
“Weird as in… I don’t know— they’re making it something it’s not supposed to be, you know? Like, Dustin is cool, but that’s because his girlfriend just dumped him and everything,” the girl rambles with a shrug. She lifts her arm to duck beneath a low-hanging branch, scraping her calloused palm against the wood as she goes. 
You’ll hear a low thud moments later when Robin smacks her forehead against it. She’d been too busy explaining how to tell the difference between poisonous and nonpoisonous mushrooms to Nancy and El — the former only half as enthused as the latter.
“El and Mike are always sneaking off to suck face, and Steve and Eddie keep ogling at you like they’ve never seen a girl before, and Lucas won’t stop asking me if something’s wrong, and—”
“He’s just trying to check up on you,” you interject gently, letting the wound-up girl take a much-needed breath.
“Yeah, well, it’s annoying,” she grumbles like a thundering rain cloud. “I’m trying to forget my problems, not talk about them.”
And, honestly, you think she might be onto something. Teenage girls are basically tiny pessimistic philosophers — your problems don’t exist if you don’t look at them, she tells you in essence. The logic is cynically sound to an unhealthy degree. It’s a poison apple you’ve plucked from the tree and eaten whole once.
“You gotta talk about them eventually, Max,” you tell her. Not because you have, but rather because you haven’t, and you’ve seen where that’s gotten you.
Max stops in her tracks. She turns ninety degrees to glare at you — arms crossed over her chest, bushy brows quirked like the right side of her lips. She looks bitterly amused at your words. 
You cower beneath her icy blue stare. You know you’ve said the wrong thing.
“Oh, yeah? Like you’re talking about them, too?” she sasses with all her practiced teenaged apathy.
You falter. “Yeah, well… Don’t do what I do, alright? Do what I say.”
Max scoffs. It sounds almost like genuine laughter in its curtness, as though it were truly sincere. She shakes her head with a cynical smile. “Face it— we’re both hopeless…”
Her words leave you stunned, as though she’d pierced you with the poison tip of them. There’s an edge to them that cuts you and leaves you bleeding as she walks on without you. The wind brushes your exposed skin, a reminder that the world is still going even though it feels like it’s frozen still. 
Robin and El walk by you a moment later. The former rubs her aching forehead over the brim of the cap on her head. The latter is elbow-deep in a drawstring bag looking for a bandaid to give her. 
Nancy, either poetically or cruelly, is the one who notices the splintered ache you are.
She smiles with her pretty pink lips and blinks at you with her stone-blue eyes. She’s as pretty as she ever was — with her bare, sun-kissed face and oversized cardigan pushed up to her elbows. It’s hard to admonish someone who looks as sweet as she does. 
Her attention alone is enough to heal you, like a dog licking a weeping wound. You hate her as much as you worship her. The loathing feels religious.
“Who are those for?” she questions innocently, motioning to the flowers in the limp hand hanging at your side.
“Oh, uh, they’re— they’re for Eddie,” you sputter in a mumble, suddenly aflame with embarrassment. You turn your red-hot cheeks away from her and look at everything but the girl in front of you. “It’s… It’s stupid…”
“I don’t think so. I think it’s sweet,” she disagrees, grinning so sincerely it scrunches the sloped bridge of her nose.
“I don’t know, I just… I felt a little bad about leaving him behind, so…”
“He did look a little like a sad puppy when we left,” Nancy confesses in a soft giggle.
You roll your eyes despite the lovesick smile on your face. “He always looks like that when he doesn’t get his way.”
“He really likes you. I can tell.”
Your heart lurches at her words. 
“What the hell do you know about him?” is first fleeting thought that scorches your mind. “He isn’t yours. You don’t get to know him.” 
The misplaced anger is raging crimson, vivid enough to taste. Or perhaps that’s just the metallic tang of your blood as you bite your tongue.
Your rage is engraved into your bones at this point. 
It isn’t fair, not to either of you, so you swallow it down.
“You think so?” you wonder instead.
“Oh. Totally,” she scoffs like she’s never been surer of anything in her life. 
Her sneakers scuff against the rough terrain of Lake Lemon as she starts walking again, towards the sound of trickling water. You follow behind her on instinct and watch her angled profile flit to the blue sky above you. Gray clouds start to gather in the distance, concealed by the green of towering trees. 
“The way he looks at you… It’s really sweet.”
“Bet it makes you miss Jonathan, huh?”
“I always miss him,” she answers without missing a beat, though she seems so suddenly forlorn. “Even though I know I’m not really supposed to.”
“What do you mean?” you press with pinched brows.
She tilts her head and looks at you beneath her lashes. “We, um… We broke up, actually.”
“Oh. Shit,” you stutter, surprising even yourself because you hadn’t meant to say the words out loud. It makes you that much more embarrassed at yourself. “I— I’m sorry. I didn’t— shit. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. You didn’t know,” Nancy assures kindly, giggling and bringing you at ease again. She smiles so softly, like she isn’t hurt by it all — by what you’ve said or what she left behind in Jonathan. 
You squint at her with a question on your tongue. How can you seem so happy after having lost a piece of yourself? you want so desperately to ask. How has that not ruined you entirely?
She sighs, still with a reminiscent smile. “I haven’t really… you know, talked about it, so…”
“Are you…” you start, but trail off again. Your head whips from her to the rocky trail you descend down, trying to keep focused without tripping over yourself in front of her. God knows you’ve done that enough for a lifetime. “Are you okay?”
Nancy thinks on your words more than you expected her to. “Uh, yeah. I think so. I mean— I guess that’s what this trip is about, you know? Trying to be okay again.”
You nod in response. You figure that’s why you ultimately asked Max to tag along in the first place, and why her friends had decided to join — those heartbroken and otherwise. 
“Sorry about that, by the way,” Nancy follows quickly with wet eyes and pinched-together brows. She’s waiting for you to condemn her, though you’re not entirely sure why.
“For… what?”
“You know, not telling you I was coming and… everything.” 
You wonder if she truly does mean everything or if it’s just a figure of speech. Nancy has a world of things to say sorry to you for — she knows this, most barbarically so.
“Steve told me it was normally a him, you, and Robin thing. He said you wouldn’t be upset about it or anything, but I feel like… I don’t know… like I’ve intruded or something?”
“No,” you assure almost instantly because you know what non-belonging feels like. You don’t want it to eat away at her like it did you. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Yeah?” the girl presses with a twinkle in her eye.
“Totally.”
She exhales a sharp chuckle through her nose. It’s almost a sigh of relief — like your words have removed a hulking weight from her bony chest. “I was so scared things were gonna be…”
“Weird?” you finish for her when she trails off.
Her sheepish smile matches your own. She nods. “Yeah.”
“That was forever ago,” you shrug, repeating the words you’ve been telling yourself for ages now. It made everything much easier to stomach. You found it much safer not to feel any of it at all — to keep the hurt from touching you entirely.
Nancy nods. Her words leave her mouth, soft like a song and kissed by sorrow. “I know, but… Things were…”
She doesn’t finish her sentence. She doesn’t have to. 
You were there for all of it. Most of the bloodshed was yours in the end.
“Yeah,” you huff so deeply it deflates your tightening chest.
“It was all just bullshit, you know?” Nancy says, shaking her head like she’s detested by the memory. “Steve shouldn’t have done what he did, but… It wasn’t like I was raring to stop him.”
“It wasn’t your job. You didn’t know me— you never had to… defend me or whatever.”
“I know, but… I think maybe I should have.”
The two of you stop in place and share a look of distant longing. Not the kind you often give Eddie — not the kind full of puppy love — but rather one of acute understanding. 
She didn’t know you, and you didn’t know her. You thought it was better off that way. Her presence was so often forced against your will. Like Pavlov’s Dog, you knew she only ever came with your inevitable heartache. Steve drifted to her like she had her own gravitational pull. He only came back to you when she was gone.
Jaded by heartache, you learned to hate her. The wrath ate away at you accordingly. And here she was — all your anger in the flesh — extending an olive branch and trying to make you whole again.
“Whoa…” you hear Robin croon lowly in the distance. 
Your attention leaves the piercing moment and darts over to her. She stands between El and Max in front of a leaning willow. She parts the weeping leaves with the palm of her hand and marvels at something further in the juniper you can’t see. 
You give Nancy a tight-lipped smile that doesn’t quite meet your eyes — too weighed down by the heavy moment — but it isn’t any less sincere. You walk away from her and towards the three others. It takes her a moment or more to follow you.
Past the swaying willow is a shrouded cove. The clear water is kissed by streams of sunlight poking through the fluttering leaves. It possesses a hearty smell of rain and wet grass, the very breath of spring. 
It’s a corner of the world that feels so pure, so untouched by the rest of the world. You can hear words hidden in the rippling water — “Swim with me,” it calls to you. “Let me cleanse you. Let me save you.” 
“Sweet…” Max hums to herself, apathetic as ever, though utterly unable to tear her eyes from the sight before her.
El nods, similarly mesmerized. “Yeah. Sweet.”
Robin turns to you, smirking all cool in her backwards cap and baggy jeans and thumped forehead. She bounces her brows and beams. “Bet the boys haven’t found anything this cool.”
 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
“Hey, look!” Dustin shouts to the others, eyes squinted with the intensity of his grin. He holds up a shining red rock, made smooth from the water rolling over his feet. “I’m pretty sure it’s a gemstone! Like, a ruby or something!”
He’s met with several unenthused gazes from the rest of the boys on shore. 
Mike squints at him from where he sits next to Lucas in the sand, both of them equally mopey without their girls to bring them back to life. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s just a rock,” the raven-haired boy monotones.
Dustin’s smile washes away like the ebbing tide at his ankles. He looks back at the weighty thing in his hand and realizes that he doesn’t actually know the difference. “Oh…”
“What do you think the girls are doing right now?” Lucas wonders aloud. He can’t go more than five minutes without bringing them up, which Dustin has bitterly observed a number of times. 
He’s more worried about Max than anything, about her eagerness to get away from the boys — from him. He doesn’t know what he could’ve done so wrong to make her pull away like she has. His chest aches with the uncertainty.
“Talking about us, probably,” Mike answers.
“That’s a little sexist, Mike,” Dustin scolds as he walks back on shore, kicking up white sand behind him as he goes.
“What do you think they’re doing then?”
“Talking about you,” the curly-haired boy retorts with narrowed eyes. “‘Cause you’re a dick.”
Mike squints an eye as he looks up at him, shielding his vision from the white sun. He flips the boy off with a pale, bony finger.
Eddie watches from a distance. He stands beside Steve in front of the bubbling white waves, though it’s not really by choice. He’d much rather be standing next to you. He searches for you in the pearly waves and weeps because nothing compares to the real thing.  
“Well, why don’t we just find out?” he offers with a shrug and a lopsided grin.
“Uh, because they said no boys allowed,” Steve answers like it’s obvious.
Eddie meets the boy’s furrowed brows with jettisoned ones hidden behind curly bangs. “…Okay?”
“And, I don’t know— I kinda don’t wanna get my face ripped off.”
“And what would poor Steve Harrington do without his pretty little face?” the wild-haired boy singsongs in response, face scrunched in feigned sympathy.
Steve squints. “You know what? Please, leave. I encourage it, actually.”
Eddie grins wide and tilts his head to his shoulder. He blinks at the boy beside him with glittering chocolate eyes that match the frizzy curls billowing in the breeze. “But then who would I annoy?”
“I don’t know. Your girlfriend, maybe,” Steve responds in a monotone, grunting softly as he bends down to pick up a handful of rocks from shore. He flicks his wrist to skip them across the water. It becomes quickly apparent that he’s never done it before. Each pebble plops hopelessly into the salty sea. “Anyone but me, preferably.”
“But you can’t break up with me, so… that’s an obvious bonus.”
“Jesus Christ…” Steve mumbles within an annoyed exhale. “You are the most insufferable person on the planet, you know that, right?”
“Tell me what happened with Billy, and I’ll leave,” Eddie challenges with narrowed eyes.
It’s too good a proposition not to give any thought to. Steve thinks about it for a beat, then shakes his head and turns away. “Yeah, no,” he concludes, skipping another rock that sinks to the bottom almost immediately.
“Why?”
“’Cause you annoying the shit outta me now is nothing compared to what Peach’ll do if she finds out I told you.”
“And what’s that?”
Steve shrugs. “…Be mad at me?”
Eddie scoffs and crosses his pale arms over his chest. “And that would just be… inconceivable, right?”
“I spent enough time pissing her off.”
“What’d you even do, anyway? Or is that another secret everyone seems to know but me?”
Steve shoots him another bitter side-eye. He tosses out another pebble. It bounces on the water once and then disappears beneath the surface. “I think these are questions for your girlfriend, Munson.”
“No, these are questions for bros, Harrington,” Eddie jokes, shoving the boy on his shoulder. His touch is more aggressive than he realizes and it makes the disgruntled brunette stumble slightly to the side. “Isn’t this the sort of things bros talk about?”
“Oh, my god…” Steve mutters to himself, shaking his head and wondering how he got here. What was supposed to be a trip with you and Robin has turned into him babysitting with Eddie fucking Munson.
“Am I not bro enough for you, Harrington?”
“That word has lost all meaning now—”
“C’mon, just tell me, man,” Eddie pleads with a newfound seriousness. “Every time I almost get something outta her, she just— she clams up, you know? I love her and everything, but fuck— it feels like she only lets me know her so much. It’s agony sometimes, dude.”
Steve doesn’t mean to, but he melts.
Maybe it’s the foreign emotion he’s getting from the local freak, or maybe it’s the confession that’s unknowingly slipped from his lips. 
He sighs. Then shrugs. “It was a long time ago. And I was a douchebag.”
Eddie snorts. “Figures.”
“Do you want me to tell you or not?” Steve bites. 
Eddie curls his lips around his teeth, puts his mouth in a tight line, and stays silent. 
The brunette boy continues. “I liked her and everything, but I also liked Nancy, you know? I really liked Nancy. I mean, Peach was a lotta fun, but Nance— she was the kinda girl you wanted to settle down with.”
Eddie feels his chest tighten, and the confession’s only just started. 
You were fun. The most fun he’s had in his life. He’d kill to settle down with you, to have an entire future of fun. There was never any but with you — I love you, but it’d be a bad look to settle down with the town slut. Eddie wants all of you, the good and what everyone else has collectively decided is “bad.” 
He loves the sound of your laughter as much as he loves the sound of your moans. 
He wants a lifetime full of both.
“—So every time Nancy broke up with me, I’d go back to Peach. And I wouldn’t tell her about… about any of it. You know, that I still wanted to be with Nancy and everything. And that’s… I think that’s the worst part about it. ‘Cause she thought there was a chance we would get together, you know? And I wanted her to think that, ‘cause I wanted her to always be there when I was— when I needed her…”
Steve squints off into the blue — where the darker-colored water meets a lighter-colored sky. The white sun casts harsh shadows on his already chiseled features. His face scrunches into something sharper, whetted edges of held-back emotion.
“A part of me knew the only reason Peach stuck around was because she thought I’d finally come to my senses and ask her out, you know? But I was… so far gone for Nancy back then it’s not even funny,” the boy confesses. He exhales a curt, cynical chuckle from his nose and shakes his head at himself. 
“I knew I was gonna keep chasing after Nance, but I couldn’t let Peach know that because I didn’t wanna be... I don’t know… alone, I guess? I needed someone to go to when my heart got broken., you know? But when I went back to Nancy— over and over and over again— it’s like… where’d Peach go? Who did— Who did she have to turn to, you know?”
Silence rolls in like the whispering breeze. It settles heavy like the gray rain clouds on the horizon.
Steve sighs like a strangling hand has finally let go of his throat. Like he can finally breathe again after saying all that out loud for the first time. Beside Eddie, the boy stands golden, grieving, and utterly changed. Steve towers over his old self in the memories he wishes he could get rid of and mourns the people he can’t un-hurt.
And it fucking sucks. 
What he did to you sucks. The person he used to be sucks. And it sucks that he’s changed too much to hate now. Where is Eddie supposed to put all the anger simmering in his chest and scratching at the back of his throat?
“And, yeah,” Steve suddenly concludes, flicking his wrist to toss another rock out to sea that’ll never see the light of day again. “That went on for a while until she got with Hargrove, which was… a total fucking train wreck.”
Eddie doesn’t know how to respond, so he just laughs — a short, sharp, and scoffing breath. 
“Wow,” he muses with his brows raised and hidden beneath his bangs. He shakes his head in complete and utter bemusement as he looks over at Steve, eyelids as heavy as the forced smile on his face. “You guys are fucking assholes, you know that?”
Steve exhales sharply from his nose in place of a laugh. He shakes his head in agreement anyway. “Believe it or not— people can change, Munson.”
The wild-haired boy squints. “Really?”
“I did. Peach did,” he answers with a shrug, then averts his gaze entirely to mumble, “You did, too, I guess…”
The half-heartedly grumbled phrase feels almost like a compliment — more so when it’s spilling from the mouth of someone he used to hate but has grown to sort of tolerate on handpicked occasions. 
It’s great beauty, to grow and shift and become the person you were also meant to be. And what praise it is to be seen in your becoming.
From a brief distance, they hear a soft and relieved “Fucking finally,” spill from Dustin’s mouth.
Eddie turns and finds you coming down from the trail. Well, you and the rest of the girls you ditched him for, but all he can really see is you. 
He’d missed you in a way he knows he shouldn’t have. Not just because you were only gone for one measly hour, but because that one measly hour ate away at him as though it were eons. 
He knows he shouldn’t miss you so hard, but sometimes the absence feels strangely fulfilling. It’s a reminder that you’re real and not some dream he made up in his head. A reminder that he’ll meet you again because you’ll always come back to him.
“Have fun?” you ask when he’s close enough to hear you. You’ve got one eye squinted to shield from the sun and also to conceal the beam threatening to take over your features.
“Oh. Tons,” Eddie scoffs in a deadpan. “Didn’t even miss you.”
“No?”
“Not even a little bit.”
“Well, I didn’t miss you either,” you confess in a similar lilt and with a similar grin that drips with honeyed adoration. “’S why I spent the whole time picking these flowers for you.”
You shrug and hold out your left hand, where a bushel of tiny flowers rests softly against the edge of your palm. It’s a mixture of vivid colors — of greens, blues, purples, and yellows. They’re wild and beautiful and drenched in sun. A whole lot like the love he has for you.
The dull ache of his broken heart sears with warmth when you put it back together again.
Eddie’s toes dig into the sand as he fills the short distance between you. He curls his fingers around your elbows, takes you in his arms, and feels whole again. With a rosy smile and sparkling chocolate eyes, he groans, “Oh, god, I hate you so much…”
Your cheeks hurt with how large your grin has grown, with how hard you try to hide it. It’s not nearly as painful as the adoration burning wildfires behind your ribcage. “I hate you more, Eddie Spaghetti.”
There’s no need to admit you’re only joking.
The words are so obviously playful. 
And both of you know what they really mean, anyway.
 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
The heavenly cadence of spring rain sings a wild song on the old tin roof.
It began first as a few gentle taps, a sparse sprinkle that tricks your brain into thinking it’s not really there at all. Then the greying clouds gave way to darker, more ponderous ones. The soft drizzle became a roaring rain that fell all together, all at once.
A foggy grey covers the cabin and lulls its inhabitants to sleep. Swim-tired, sunkissed, and energy-spent — you all return to a sweeter sort of peace. The sudden exhaustion feels like rose petals. It’s gentle, pure, and liquid smooth. 
Robin clocks out first, and in record time. She stomps in from outside, terribly sunburnt and complaining relentlessly — before and after a cold shower. She shoves a burger in her face and passes out on the couch soon after.
Steve makes fun of her for it, but he goes right after her. He lays opposite her on the small couch, both of them fighting for room, even in their sleep.
Nancy went a lot more quietly, and only after the millionth time you assured her that she was more than welcome to take the bed. “It’s not like Robin has any plans of sleeping upstairs right now,” you joked, nodding your head over to the brunette girl who had her chin tilted backward and her mouth wide open.
You can’t be entirely sure what the kids are up to now, but they’ve all returned to the bunk room. It’s quiet, but not suspiciously so. You figure they’re all either sleeping or fighting it, so you decide to give them privacy while you sit alone in the kitchen — waiting for Eddie’s shower to end and for Hopper to get off the phone with you.
“Having fun?” the man wonders politely.
“Mm-hmm,” you hum in response, cheek propped lazily against your fist as you lean over the granite countertop. You’re too heavy with fatigue to do anything else. Your legs are sore and your skin is sun-drenched. Slumber all but sings your name like a siren out at sea.
“What about El? She doing okay?”
“Yep.”
“You’re watching her and Mike, right? You’re not letting them go off alone?”
“Yes, Hopper,” you singsong in an impatient-sounding sigh.
The man huffs out a laugh that crackles from the other line. “You sound like you don’t wanna talk to me, teacup.”
“I’m sorry. ‘M just tired. Running after kids all day is exhausting,” you confess in a series of barely intelligible mumbles.
“Exactly. That’s why you wear protection—”
“Hopper!”
“I’m just saying!” Jim defends between a bout of gruff laughter. “I don’t want you  coming back from this trip and having a mini-Munson nine months later, alright? That’s all I’m saying.”
You have a hard time placing his intention — if he’s truly being protective or if he’s just making fun of you. He’s more than aware of Eddie’s secret, after all, so you coming home with a mini-Munson is virtually impossible. But, then again, no-parents-empty-cabin surely has its own lewd history.
You figure it’s a healthy mixture of both, and decide to take the piss out of him, too.
“Oh, trust me, lurch. There’s gonna be a million mini-Munsons when I get back. What do you think I’ve been doing all this time, huh?” you argue with squinted eyes and a sudden fire behind your sunkissed lassitude. “Please ignore the sounds of moaning and squeaking, by the way.”
A beat of utter silence passes. 
The other line is perfectly mute. You can’t even hear his breathing.
“…That’s not funny,” Hopper grouses in a monotone.
“I’m not laughing,” you retort, giggling anyway. You couldn’t hide them if you tried. Fuck, you miss annoying this man in person. 
You collect yourself with a sigh and continue. “Believe it or not, I’m perfectly abstinent, okay? I’m not some kinda fiend that… You know what— I don’t want to talk about this with you, actually.”
Hopper exhales a sigh of relief when you cut yourself off. “Good. I checked out of this conversation about a minute ago.”
“I’m good. El’s good. Everyone’s currently sleeping, so… Thanks for checking in, lurch.”
“Remind me to ask for Harrington next time I call.”
“Will do.”
You hang up the phone with a smile and a plan to trek upstairs and tell Eddie all about it. You’ll sit on the bathroom counter and laugh about it with him while he finishes up his shower. You’ll leave out the million Munsons part, of course, because you don’t want him to think you’re a total weirdo.
Eddie finds you first.
“Mini Munsons, huh?” you hear the boy chuckle behind you.
Your heart lurches against your ribcage at his sudden arrival. You spin around to face him, features wide and gaping as you figure out how to worm your way out of this one. “I was— I was just kidding. Hopper was being annoying, you know? So I was… I was just fucking around with him…”
Eddie meets your wild-eyed shock with a much cooler, pink smile. It’s lopsided and wide and beautiful. Leaning against the wall, he bounces his shoulder and juts out his lip. “Well, I know that’s your favorite pastime, so… I guess I won’t hold it against you.”
You know he’s joking, but you exhale the breath you were holding in relief anyway. “Thank you…”
He walks the short distance to meet you. His bare feet pad against the kitchen tile until he’s close enough to wrap you in his arms. He carries the smell of your body wash with him — a warm, floral, and sweet scent. His hair is damp and pulled back out of his face, dripping onto the neck of his t-shirt.
His palms are wide and lotion-soft as they smooth up your forearms. “Uh… Everyone’s asleep now, I think, so… You wanna go talk?”
He looks at you so sweet, you’re almost certain it’s code for something. Not sex, maybe, but something almost as gratifying. It’s Eddie — he kisses you stupid like he was made to do it. You’re more than happy to make out like teenagers until the rest of the cabin starts to stir again.
“Sure, I do,” you answer with a shrug, trying to keep an air of nonchalance about you even though you’re beaming up at him like schoolgirl — some innocent being that’s never been hurt before.
You let him lead you up the spiral staircase with that same giddy grin. You barely let him shut the door behind you before you’re pushing him against it. 
You hear him gasp quietly when your arms wrap suddenly around his neck. He’s tense when your body presses against his, like hugging a mountain’s edge. It takes him a moment or more to respond when you start kissing the breath from his lungs.
He finally relaxes with a soft exhale that fans against your cupid’s bow. His idling hands settle over your hips, fingers threatening to crawl beneath your cropped shirt when it rises to reveal a sliver of your skin. You’d kill for him to touch you further, but his touch stays perfectly still. You’re just glad he’s holding you at all.
He tastes like nicotine, soda, and summertime — clean, boyish, and nostalgic. Your tongue swipes gently over his plush bottom lip for more. You expect him to open up further for you, to let you explore the mouth you already know like the back of your hand. You’re heartbroken when he pulls away from you entirely, missing him the second he’s gone.
Eddie’s grieving in a similar way. It’s hard for him to part from you when you kiss him like no person on earth has ever been kissed.
He breathes out a soft laugh as he peers down at you. He grins crookedly with his freshly swollen lips. “Not that I’m not enjoying this or anything, sweetheart, but when I said talk, I really did mean talk…”
Your blood runs red-hot. “Oh…” you sigh like an idiot because you can’t think of anything else to say. You feel like a total fool — spent ages denying the slut stereotype just to jump someone’s bones the second you got them alone. Maybe they were right about you.
Eddie sees you second-guessing everything, watches you form a long-winded apology inside your head. He follows up quickly to quell your worry. “No, it’s okay— it’s kinda my bad, actually. I guess I should’ve clarified.”
You muster a trembling smile when you step back from him. You’re cold the second he’s gone. You have to fight back the shiver that crawls up your spine. “Well, you did say talk, so…”
“Yeah, but how often do I say things I actually mean?”
“Sometimes,” you answer sheepishly, gazing at him from beneath your lashes in a sincere response to his half-joke. “I hope…”
I hope you meant it when you said you liked me, is what you’re really trying to say. I hope you meant all the nice things you’ve said about me, ‘cause I don’t think I could handle them never being real.
He seems to hear everything you don’t say. 
His rosy lips tug into a slow smile as he tilts his head to his shoulder. “Well… maybe when it comes to you, sweetheart.”
Your girlish smile returns to you — wide, innocent, unhurt. You like feeling this special. You like Eddie belonging to you in a way he doesn’t to anybody else. It’s a primal sort of possession, a borderline unhealthy one for someone who loves like it’s breathing.
“What did you wanna talk about then?” you wonder, then scrunch your nose with a distant wariness. “It kinda seems serious now.”
“No,” Eddie scoffs, walking away from you and towards the bed. “Not serious.”
The mattress squeaks under his weight when he flops down onto it. You want to scold him for being so rough with an obviously aged thing that doesn’t belong to him. You’re already gravitating towards him with an unrealized smile on your face. 
You sit down beside him, far more gently than he had. You settle on top of the fluffy comforter and curl your legs behind you. Eddie lays on his side, propping his head up with one hand and using the other to trace the faded scars and beauty marks on your thigh. 
His finger trails absentmindedly over your skin in a featherlight touch. Chills erupt over your skin, and he smiles to himself. You’re still learning how to be touched so delicately.
“Spit it out, Eds. The tension’s killing me,” you laugh with words you’ll regret a second later.
“I don’t know… I just— I wanted to ask why you never told me about Steve,” the boy says with a nonchalant shrug, like the words don’t suck all the breath from your lungs. He’s too busy watching his finger dance across your skin to see the shock flood your features. “Like, I knew you guys had— a thing or whatever. But I didn’t know… you know, the rest of it.”
Despite being unable to breathe, you try to muster a laugh. “This sounds like a pretty serious topic, Eds.”
His wide-eyed gaze matches your own. His stare darts upward to meet yours. The chocolate of his irises are full with brooding. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. Actually, he spent his entire showering thinking of ways to bring this up that would be the least painful for the both of you. But in true Eddie Munson fashion, he can’t ever say the right thing.
“No! No, it— it doesn’t have to be. I was just… It was just a question, you know?” he sputters hopelessly. He glances away and mumbles to himself, “A really dumb, stupid question…”
Despite the overwhelming urge to find the deepest, darkest hole and hide there, you can’t tear your eyes away from the boy in front of you. You’re not really looking at him, though, much too deep in your own head about the whole thing. 
You can’t stop thinking about what he must’ve heard — how he felt when he heard it. Did he think of you differently? Even for a fraction of a second, was he embarrassed at the very thought of you?
“Are you saying that… Steve told you about… all of it?” you ask slowly, terrified of the answer.
“Uh, yeah…” Eddie hesitates, equally as apprehensive. “Honestly, I think we were going a little insane with the girls around…”
He exhales sharply through his nose in place of a laugh and flashes a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It ebbs away a moment later.
“Why would he do that?” you wonder with wide, wet eyes. The question is more for yourself than anything. You can’t begin to understand why Steve would’ve opened up about such a thing — to Eddie, of all people. Your Eddie.
“I asked him about Billy—”
“What do you know about Billy?”
“Well, he brought it up, but—”
“So you spent the entire time talking about me?” The laugh that spills from your mouth is bitter, cruel. 
Eddie, who’s never known you to be either, chuckles emotionlessly back. “Well… No. It just— It just came up, I guess.”
You smile despite the emotion swimming in your glassy eyes. It makes the boy cower inside himself, unsure which contrasting reaction to pay the most attention to. “My relationship with Steve and Billy just… came up?”
“Yeah. It’s not a big deal, babe—”
“It’s not a big deal because they weren’t your exes,” you bite like a snarling dog. “If I spent the entire time talking about you, you wouldn’t be too happy about it either, would you?”  
Eddie’s eyes narrow in a challenging squint. “I didn’t come up? Not one time?”
“Yes!” you exclaim. The volume of your answer and its blurted sincerity take him by surprise. You wave your hands wildly as you ramble. “I told Nancy that I missed you and that I couldn’t wait to see you and give you a bunch of stupid flowers—”
You motion to the makeshift bouquet sitting on the nightstand. They idle in a clear shot glass Eddie found in one of the cabinets. He couldn’t stand not giving them a home.
“—While you were off with Steve, talking about everyone that’s fucked me over!”
Your rage is as wild as it is brutal. You’re painted red from the slaughter you’ve been forced through. It’s given you claws and teeth accordingly. 
Like a stray dog that bites the gentle hand trying to feed it, you’ve been so obviously mistreated. Eddie knew that before he knew you — ‘cause he’s got eyes, as well as a bleeding heart. Someone didn’t love you the way you deserved to be loved, and now the memory turns you cruel.
“It wasn’t like that, okay?” Eddie presses with an urgency you can feel on his hand curling intently around your calf. His fingers tremble with sincerity. His dark eyes swim with it, too. “I just— I wanted to learn more about you because you never tell me anything!”
“Yes, I do!” you scoff.
“Then why do you never talk about Billy?”
“Why do you care so much about Billy?” you cry with a broad, disbelieving smile. “Why do I need to talk about him? He doesn’t even matter— he doesn’t even exist anymore!”
“Because something obviously happened! And if that thing is bothering you, I wanna be able to make it better!”
“That’s what therapists are for, Eddie. Not boyfriends.”
“Yeah, not any that you ever had,” he scoffs to himself before he can stop it. 
You tense beneath his hand. He deflates with a sigh — squeezing his eyes shut and asking himself how the hell he manages to make the bad shit that much worse. 
“Sorry. I’m— I’m sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t bring any of this up to hurt your feelings, alright? I just wanted to— I don’t know— I just wanted to talk about it, okay? That’s all.”
You can tell he’s being sincere. That he really did just want to talk about it, and that he really is worried about you, and that he really does want to make it all better. He wears it all over his face. His features are soft and blurred and utterly genuine.
You haven’t yet softened your sharp, whetted edges. “You said we didn’t have to. That this trip was supposed to be fun.”
He flinches at the way you spit the words at him. They’re coated in vinegar, venom. It sinks into his skin and maims him accordingly. His bushy brows furrow, the corners of his mouth turn downward, and his eyes go glassy — a sad puppy indeed.
“You’re not having fun?” he wonders in a wounded whisper.
His hurt becomes your own. It only makes your anger tower mountains over you. “Not anymore,” you answer lowly and through a tense jaw.
Eddie’s spent a lifetime screwing things up. He’s spent a lifetime apologizing for them, too. This one aches worse than all the others combined. “I’m sorry…” he mutters quietly.
You’ve never seen him this somber. This sad.
The broken look of your lover’s heartache cracks the hardened porcelain you’re made of. You let out the breath you were holding in a trembling, heavy sigh. “No, don’t— Don’t apologize.”
“I feel like I shouldn’t have brought it up…” he confesses with his gaze cast downward.
You bring a hand to the one idling on your leg. You rest your soft palm over his bony knuckles. Your touch is much warmer than the iceberg you were just minutes ago. 
“It’s okay. You were just curious. I shouldn’t have blown up the way I did,” you concede. The softness he’s more familiar with finally returns to you. The corner of your lip quirks into a wavering half-smile as you joke, “But if you want the entire list of guys that have fucked me over, it’s a really— it’s really fucking long one.”
You laugh quietly at your joke. 
But Eddie knows it’s not really a joke, so he stays unsmiling.
His touch is still soft, though. He takes to rubbing your calf again — a slow and measured up and down — a reminder that he’s still in your corner. “Well, you can tell me about it when you’re ready.”
“What if I’m not?” you wonder, hesitant and testing the waters. “Like… What if I don’t want you to know all that stuff?”
Eddie’s gaze flits away from yours as he ponders the question. He purses his lips to the side and nods to himself, visibly deep in thought. “Then I’m good with not knowing,” he answers after a few, long moments.
“Are you?”
Again, he thinks.
“Not really. No,” he responds, still as honest as he’s always been with you. He grins lopsidedly and bounces his shoulder. “But if it means I get to keep you, then… Yeah.”
You exhale a breathy laugh at his words.
Eddie’s wavering smile breaks out in a sheepish beam at the sight of your more genuine grin. 
“Can I have a kiss?” he whispers to you, as innocent and mousy as a child.
Your hand gives his a reassuring squeeze. “You never have to ask, Eds…” you remind him.
You lean down to press your mouth against his. He tilts his chin to meet you halfway. It’s chaste and lingering — a delicate peck that expresses all the swirling emotions neither of you could name if you tried. 
“There isn’t anything about you that I wouldn’t want to know,” Eddie confesses after he’s pulled away from you. The breath of his words fan across your cheek, he’s still so close to you. His deep galaxy eyes dance between both of yours. “You know that, right?”
A smile tugs slow at your mouth. “Now, I do,” you nod in return, even though you’re not sure if you believe him. 
He only says that because he doesn’t know you — the deep, dark you that you try to keep hidden from yourself and the rest of the world. He’d learn everything you’ve been through, everything you’ve done, and he’d hate you. He wouldn’t be able to look at you the same.
You can’t stand the thought of Eddie looking at you the way the rest of Hawkins does — with eyes squinted and twinkling with an admiral sort of disgust. So you’d rather him not know any of it at all.
Silence dances into the room as effortlessly as a spring breeze. The rain’s offbeat cadence taps hard against the sliding glass door across the room. You have the sudden urge to walk outside and stand it. You think it’d be easier to drown in the warm deluge than in your own thoughts.
Eddie’s rosy mouth turns slightly upward. Yours does, too, in anticipation of what he’s about to tell you.
“Wanna fool around?” he wonders, if only to brighten the heavy grey mood.
The sound of your laughter is sunshine — a metaphor he’s been trying to write for years. “You can’t just say that every time we’re alone, Eds!”
“Why not?” he challenges just to tease you.
“Because you know we can’t,” you answer with a soft sort of sternness about you. Your eyes are firm with sincerity, though they sparkle with mischief.
“We’ve been here almost two days, and I haven’t got one whiff of Jason Voorhees, babe.”
“That’s not what I mean,” you mutter, then whisper more quietly. “There’s people downstairs.”
“Well, you can be quiet…” Eddie lilts, grin lopsided and pink as he rises off the mattress to lean closer to you. His breath fans across your chin, coated with nicotine and something sugary. He tilts his wild head to the side and raises his brows in question. “Can’t you?”
“I’m not sure that you can, Eds.”
“Don’t worry about me,” the boy assures, voice low and suddenly serious.
His warm palm travels up your calf, smoothing over your knee and curling around the side of your thigh. His touch is almost as all-consuming as his stare — deep chocolate brown, as infinite as a galaxy. You fall into them accordingly. You couldn’t deny him if you wanted to.
You try, anyway.
“Eddie…” you start, a warning that trails off when he squeezes the buzzing skin of your outer thigh.
“Lay down,” he urges. It’s too soft to be a genuine command. It gives him ample opportunity to turn it all into a joke on the off chance you reject him completely.
You don’t. You couldn’t.
You find yourself slithering past him and closer to the headboard before you realize you’re doing it. It’s like you’re made of magic, totally under whatever spell he’s unknowingly cast upon you. Your head’s swimming with his sorcery as you lie back on the pillows. 
Eddie follows you, resting his body above yours. It’s a comfortable sort of weight, heavenly even. He props himself up on his forearms so he isn’t crushing you completely, though you wouldn’t complain if he did. 
You want him to ruin you, and then you want to thank him for it.
The untrimmed edges of his curls hang down over his face. They tickle your jaw when he kisses you with the ardency of someone who wants to swallow you whole. His tongue swipes against yours, slow and more aggressive than either of you expect. He sucks on your swelling bottom lip right after.
The gray world around you explodes with a burst of a thousand colors. You can’t see any of them because the inner workings of your mind have been stripped away and replaced totally with Eddie. His nose nudging against yours. The taste of his mouth. The texture of his tongue. The warmth of his breath. His hand traveling down down down your body.
His palm starts at your cheek, cupping sweetly at your jaw so he can open your mouth wider for him. Then his touch trails down to your neck, taking a brief pitstop to feel the rapid thrum of your racing pulse, before falling to your chest.
You think he must be able to feel your pounding heart through your t-shirt when he cups your breast. His thumb swipes over your hardened nipple in time with his tongue diving deep into your mouth. You feel his lips curl into a smile when the combined efforts make you shiver.
His fingers smooth over your ribcage, then your stomach, and then your hips. 
It’s a touch featherlight, yet steady and earnest at the same time. His hand creeps slowly over the thin fabric of your shorts and settles between the warmth radiating between your thighs. He cups you gently through your clothes and kisses the breath from your lungs. It’s like he’s trying to kill you.
You buck your hips slightly upward in a silent plea for more. 
The boy above you has the nerve to pull away from you to ask, “This okay?” 
His hair is mussed from where your fingers had entwined so intensely in his chestnut strands. His lips are rosy and swollen and wild. You get lost looking at him. 
With dazed eyes trained on the pink mouth you so desperately want to kiss again, you nod like an enthusiastic child.
“Can I do more?” Eddie wonders through heavy breaths.
“Please,” you hear yourself say, right before your hips cant against the subtle weight of his palm.
You watch with wide, unblinking eyes as Eddie brings his hand to his mouth. His pink tongue darts out to lick the pads of his middle and forefinger, leaving them glistening as he slithers them into your shorts. 
His efforts to be easy with you are appreciated but virtually unnecessary. You’re as slippery as satin for him, drooling in anticipation for him to make you feel good. 
He slides two fingers into your trembling pussy with little effort. The fatty edge of his palm settles over your swelling clit. Your head tilts back against the pillow while you exhale a pretty moan.
With your eyes fluttered shut, you don’t see the crooked grin tugging slow at Eddie’s mouth. “Shh…” he shushes, only half playful, before engulfing your mouth again and swallowing each of your gentle cries. 
He’s moaning with you, though, at the soft squelch your pussy makes when his fingers sink to the knuckle inside you. You feel the smooth metal of his rings on the outside of your cunt and the inside of your thighs.
And fuck, you’re so pretty for him — always so pretty for him — that it makes him forget about the ache of his stiffening cock. His yearning for you throbs like a heartbeat. He wants so desperately to fuck you, to really fuck you until he’s got you gushing all over his lap. But he figures he can settle for this for now. 
But the way you’re moaning for him just now? It doesn’t really feel like settling.
“You’re so pretty,” he hums lowly, almost to himself. “Have I told you that?”
He has. Plenty of times within the few months he’s been able to do that without it being too weird. It feels like the first time he’s ever said it to you, anyway.
A breathy moan spills lightly from your lips, like a spring breeze coated in sunshine. It’s the total opposite of the storm swirling outside the bedroom. 
Your cunt involuntarily squeezes his fingers at the compliment — walls sticky, hot, and pulsing. You all but melt around the two digits he presses inside you.
He figures you must like the praise, which is great ‘cause praising you is the easiest thing on the planet. 
“You have such a pretty pussy, too,” he confesses in a gritty whisper.
You moan for him again, a muffled cry stuck in your throat.
“Feels so warm around my fingers… And you’re so tight, baby— I don’t know how I’m gonna fit my cock in you—”
His words are as sinful as they are vivid. 
Behind your shut eyes, you can see the vision of him on top of you. You can feel his sweaty body sticking to yours like glue — similar to the honey you leak for him while he fucks you. 
If you try hard enough, you can almost replace his fingers for his cock. You know it’s nowhere near as pleasurable as the real thing, though.
The thought of him fucking you — making love to you — has you whining and writhing beneath him. Your hips jut upward, looking for pleasure and running away from it all at once. His fingers squelch as they push in and in and in. You drool impossibly more for him, drenching his fingers and his rings and the cotton sheets below you.
“You could take it though, right?” the boy above you wonders, swollen lips quirked in a heavy half-smile. “You’d take whatever I give you, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?”
You hardly recognize him now. Not because he’s teasing you — because you’ve gotten more than used to that — but because he’s so damn confident. 
He talks to you with the finesse of a guy who’s done this a thousand times, to a thousand different girls. You’re the first, and you know this, but he’s ruining you like he created you.
You nod with a satin sigh.
The silent admission makes Eddie’s head spin. 
He shouldn’t have you in the first place, the metalhead freak he is, yet he’s got two fingers inside you and your permission to go further. And he wants to — god, he wants to — but he’s scared it’ll drive him crazy. 
Crazier than he already is for you, if that’s possible.
“Get on your side for me, yeah?” he whispers to you, surprising himself with his newfound dominance.
You’re too far gone to do anything but obey him. 
You maneuver onto your side like he asked, feeling like your bones are made of melted honey. Eddie follows you. He keeps his fingers nestled deep inside your thrumming heat as he curls in behind you. 
His stiff, aching cock is hard and heavy against your clothed ass. Despite the layers of clothes separating you, his warmth presses so intently against you. You clench around him at the feeling — tighter when his fingers begin to crook inside you. You tilt your head back and moan, rutting further back against him.
Eddie smushes his nose into your hair and hums a moan in his throat. His heavy exhale fans against the shell of your ear. He keeps working you open with his fingers, a slow and measured rhythm he maintains with the thrusts of his hips.
He’s terribly sensitive, almost embarrassingly so. You drive him too wild for anything else. Even like this, without being inside you and with his clothes still on, he feels like he might explode.
You’re much of the same. The pad of his thumb rubs mercilessly at your swollen clit as his fingers coax you towards a head-spinning orgasm. The overwhelming pleasure crawls up your throat, strikes you like lightning, and swirls in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t run from it if you tried.
It doesn’t stop you from canting your hips back and forth — a feeble attempt to cope with the overwhelming pleasure Eddie gives you with nothing but his hand. With his pale arm caging your side and his lean body behind you, curling and melting with yours, you can only get so far. 
All you can do is take it.
Eddie whimpers delicately in your ear as he humps your ass. He babbles in faint whines — things you don’t think he realizes he’s saying. 
“You’re so hot, baby,” he slurs heavily, swollen mouth tracing the shell of your ear. “So soft, too... Fuck... Keep grinding back on me like that— shit, yeah, just like that. ’S gonna make me come in my fucking pants, baby.”
If you weren’t drowning in the void of your own pleasure, you might’ve asked him to come. No, begged him to. “It wouldn’t be the first time,” you would’ve assured him, only slightly teasing. But you don’t do any of that because his fingers are shoved so far into you that you can feel them in your throat. 
Or maybe that’s just your impending climax choking you. 
You couldn’t form an intelligible sentence if you wanted to, either way. 
Instead, you roll your hips back against his cock and act like he’s fucking you for real. The idea of it alone sends you catapulting into an orgasm. You’re so far gone for him — for the freak of Hawkins — you let him ruin you while you fall for him like the rain pounding at your window. 
Effortlessly, unapologetically, and over and over and over again.
Eddie dampens his boxers in the same way you drench his fingers. His twitching cock drools for you, more and more as he nears his peak. He hasn’t felt anything as gratifying as grinding against you like this. He’s bound to be a fucking goner the second he’s caught inside your snug pussy. 
“Can feel you trembling for me, you know?” he continues to ramble, only half-aware of the sin spilling from his rosy lips. His thumb presses against the fleshy hood of your clit. He’s barely moving it, but the pressure alone has you buzzing.  “You’re gonna cum so hard for me, aren’t you? Gonna make a mess all over my hand?”
You bite back a cry — quite literally, with your teeth caging your bottom teeth — and lean your head back to bear your throat. You throw a hand back in search of Eddie. Your fingers twist in the mussed curls at the crown of his head.
“Mm, Eddie—” you call in a muffled cry, overwhelmed and half-frightened by how good he’s making you feel. By how hard you’re about to cum for him.
“I know, baby. I know,” he coos sympathetically to you, crooking his fingers in time with his grinds against the plush of your ass. His cock starts to ache all over again, this time with hunger. 
Through a breaking voice, he begs. “Go on and cum for me, yeah? Let me make you feel good, baby. Cum all over my fingers, baby— I need it… I fucking need it. I’m so fucking close—”
You bury your face in the pillow when you cum, crying his name into the cushion for only the two of you to hear. You tense, thighs shaking and toes curling, as you gush around his fingers — like the pouring rain outside. 
You drip mercilessly for him, a slippery mess between your thighs you know you should be ashamed of. You might’ve been, if it were anybody else.
Eddie stills behind you, though his fingers remain relentless. He coaxes you completely through your orgasm just as he’s reaching his own. His moans come out in gasps — choppy, sharp breaths through a swollen mouth. His aching cock spits in the confines of his boxers, several warm loads that cool too quickly. 
He trembles through his high, trying to trek through its entirety but growing so suddenly sensitive. 
You let him work you through yours. His fingers, now wrinkled at the pads, are frozen inside you while his thumb circles softly at your delicate clit. You twitch with the aftershocks of your orgasm. Your hand leaves his hair to grab his wrist, a silent plea that you can’t take anything more.
And the two of you just lie there, for several long moments — sticky, blissed-out, and so intently pressed together. You let the heavy moment of your ebbing orgasms linger. You decompose together in the heavy honey of pleasure.
It’s all so messy, but then again, everything seems to be. 
His hair, his fingers, his boxers. 
Your thighs, your bed, your heart. 
Words. Life. Love.
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