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#okay so inspiration I actually have two friends doing this right now
javiscigarette · 2 months
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Teacher's Pet
Joel Miller x virgin f!reader
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Summary: 25 years old, anxiety-ridden, and still a virgin, you ask your friend Joel for advice on your upcoming date. But you're more of a...hands-on learner. And he's more than happy to help. 
Warnings: PWP, unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, first kiss, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), frequent check-ins, soo much banter and Joel is a menace also so soft and sweet :')....(ends on a cliffhanger but there will be a part two I swear).
w/c: 7.7k idk what happened
a/n: I am resurfacing for your monthly reminder that I do in fact still write!! Inspiration for this came out of literally nowhere but I took it and RAN with it and I think I like it?? As always, thank you to my baby love @undrthelights for helping me with this and always listening to my rambling and for being my biggest enabler Ilysm
Part Two
my masterlist
"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever." Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck pound in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed. "A what?" "Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head.  "No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 
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"Seriously, Joel. Fuck off" you snap but with no bite or heat behind it. You bring the sweating bottle of beer to your lips and finish the rest of the now lukewarm liquid off in one gulp. 
"What? I just find it hard to believe that you've never even had a kiss. Didn't you go to high school? Didn't you ever get invited to a party? Didn't you go to college? College kids do the do like all the time” 
"Clearly not all the time" you mutter, a tad bitterly.
Joel raises his hands defensively and takes a sip of his own beer. "Just seems crazy is all. There's gotta be some chick or dude out there willing to take pity on you and pop your cherry."
You audibly gag at his choice of words. "I don't need a pity fuck, thanks." You stand from the couch and head over to the fridge. The bottles of cold alcohol inside are calling your name and you want something that will help soothe your nerves. You're not a big drinker, but when Joel is prying into your love life like he is now, you wish you were.
"Okay,” he starts from the living room. “Maybe I worded that wrong. What I meant to say was, there's gotta be someone out there who would be more than willing to show you a good time."
You groan and let your forehead fall against the fridge door. "That's the whole point! I came here to get advice for my date, someone who might actually be interested in me, and all you've done is make fun of me for not having fucked anyone yet. So thanks, Joel. You're a real pal."
You push away from the fridge and slam the door shut, a second beer in hand.
"Alright, alright, calm down." He says, hands in the air as if you were holding him at gunpoint as you head back to the couch. "Look, if this guy really likes you then he's not gonna care. Probably won't even be able to tell if you are or aren't."
"You think so?" You ask hopefully.
"Well, I mean, unless you're like... super bad."
Your heart drops into your stomach and you glare at him, "Joel."
"Oh come on, I'm kidding. You're not gonna be bad, okay? Just, go into it with an open mind and just relax. If he tries something you're not comfortable with or makes you feel weird, tell him. And if he gets pissy, dump his ass."
"That simple, huh?" You scoff.
"Well, yeah. You're the one who made it complicated by thinking it was a big deal."
"It is a big deal, Joel! I know nothing!
"Nothing? You ain’t ever watched porn? Jesus, I had no idea you were such a prude."
You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and slapping the back of your hand against his arm. He yelps and laughs, rubbing his arm.
"I've watched porn before" you retort. 
"What kind?" he asks with a wiggle of his brows.
"None of your fucking business" you respond, feeling your face heat up.
Joel's lips quirk into a shit-eating grin and you're quick to smack him again.
"Okay okay, sorry!" he says through his laughter. "So what exactly are you afraid of?"
You're not really sure how to answer. It's a combination of so many things, most of which are irrational fears and insecurities. Sure you've seen it all done before, but you're well aware that none of it is realistic. At least, not completely. And just the fact that you're freshly 25 years old without a single notch in your bedpost makes you dizzy with anxiety. It's not like you're saving yourself or anything, it's just that hook up culture has never agreed with you and there's never been an opportunity that made you feel like it was the right one. That is until now, with your cute coworker who you thought was miles out of your league asking you out on a third date. And now, the prospect of being in bed with him is looming over you like a dark cloud and the last thing you want to do is mess it up.
"I guess, I'm just afraid that he's gonna be disappointed, or I'm gonna weird him out, or I'm gonna do something wrong and embarrass myself.” Joel nods along and listens. "And if it is bad then we still have to work with each other and then what if it's awkward and everyone knows about it and then he hates me and--"
"Okay, whoa slow down there, buddy" Joel says, putting a hand on your shoulder. "One, you're overthinking this. You're literally thinking like, five steps ahead of what's actually going on. It's a date. And even if it does end up in the bedroom, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. No one's forcing you, okay? He can't. No one can."
"I know, but I want to," you reply quietly.
"Alright. Then do."
"I don't know howwww!! " you whine, flopping backwards into the couch.
Joel groans and sits up a little straighter, scrubbing a hand down his face. 
"Well, there's no magic trick, I don't have a secret sex manual I'm holding out on ya."
You sigh, shoulders sagging as you look over at him. The idea comes out of nowhere, well, not exactly from nowhere, but it pops in your head so fast that you then have to bite your tongue before the words bubbling up from your throat come tumbling out. 
It's not a bad idea, not necessarily. 
You've been good friends with Joel ever since you moved in next door last year. An unlikely pairing, a 40 year old contractor and an almost 25 year old office worker. But after offering him a six pack as part of introducing yourself to the neighbors, you'd gotten along famously. He fixes things around your house and you send him home with hot dinners and warm, gooey cookies.
 It's an easy friendship, open and honest and supportive, and Joel has never given you reason not to trust him. He's a good guy, if not a little brash, but you know deep down he means well. And it doesn't hurt that he's objectively attractive, with his tall and sturdy frame, strong, calloused hands, dark messy curls....It's not a bad idea.
It's an absolutely insane idea. 
You continue to stare at him, clenching your teeth together to hold back the question sitting on the tip of your tongue.
"What?" he says, looking back at you.
"Nothing" you mutter, eyes flicking away.
"You've got that face you make when you're about to say something really stupid, so just get it out."
You glare at him again, not enjoying the way he can read you so well.
"I wasn't gonna say anything."
"Well now you're lying."
"I'm not."
"You're doing it again!"
"Doing what?!"
"That face!"
"I'm not making a face!"
"Yes you are! Just spit it out!"
You groan and hide your face in your hands. You blame it on the one beer even though you know you’re not anywhere close to being drunk because how else would you justify what you’re about to say? You wait a moment, thinking about the weight of it but your mouth opens before you can stop yourself. 
"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever."
Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck and hear it in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed.
"A what?"
"Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head. 
"No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 
His eyes are wide, and he looks incredulous. You can't blame him, because the more time that passes between your suggestion and now, the more ridiculous the idea seems.
"I’m sorry, that was…It was stupid. Pretend I didn't say anything. Let's just watch a movie." You move to grab the remote, but Joel's hand covers yours, stopping you.
"Is that what you want?"
You look at him, searching his expression for any sign of disgust or apprehension. But all you can see is the same Joel you've known for months, patient, warm, and understanding.
"I know. I know it's stupid. But I can't get this date out of my head, Joel. It's all I can think about and the more I do, the more worried I get and I just don't want to fuck it up. And I know we're friends and this is weird and gross, but I just thought that... maybe, I could have some practice, so to speak."
He doesn't say anything. Just keeps looking at you, the panic rising in your chest the longer the silence stretches. You start to fidget, wringing your hands together in your lap.
"I'm sorry, that was way out of line" you say, moving to stand up, your skin sweaty and hot with embarrassment and your feet ready to run out the door and never come back. 
But Joel catches your wrist, gently pulling you back down to sit next to him.
"Joel" you whine, not wanting him to humiliate you any further.
"It's okay, come here."
His voice is softer than before, and his eyes are kind. You let him pull you closer, the two of you sitting knee to knee. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, not with your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning like they are, but Joel doesn't push. He simply moves his hand from your wrist, sliding it into yours. His palms are rough and warm, and the simple touch alone is comforting.
"You really wanna do this?” he asks softly. You can feel his eyes boring into you. “I mean, I'm not exactly a prize winning catch. And it's not like there's a shortage of willing men out there."
You shrug and chew the inside of your lip.
"Yeah, but you're my friend and I...I trust you."
There's another pause, and you wish that you could just disappear into the couch and erase this moment from your memory.
"How drunk are you?" he asks, glancing at the beer bottle on the coffee table.
"You saw me finish one bottle. And half of another. I’m barely tipsy."
"Not drunk?”
"Nope."
"You're gonna remember this tomorrow."
"Uh huh."
"And you still want to?"
You groan for the millionth time and squeeze his hand.
"Yes I want to! Look, if you don't want to then that's fine. It was just a dumb suggestion and we can just forget this ever happened."
He hums, considering your words. His hand slips out of yours, and you think that's it, you've scared him off and washed the friendship down the drain. That you'll have to hide from him from now on, that you'll have to pack your things up and move because the mortification would be too much, and that he'll hate you, and—
His two fingers sliding under chin surprise you, and he tilts your head up. He's looking down at you with that same even expression, eyes big, soft, and warm as he slides his hand over to cup your jaw in his palm. 
"If you want to stop at any point, just say so, okay? I won't be upset and we can go back to the way things were before. Got it?"
You nod, your throat suddenly too tight to speak. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone, the tender touch is enough to make your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this is actually happening. That your first kiss is going to be with your 40 year old menace of a neighbor. That you’re going to, how did you put it, get a sex lesson from him. His gaze flicks down to your lips and back up to your eyes and you’re positive you’re no longer able to breathe. 
"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly. You nod. 
You're sure he can hear the thumping of your heart in his own ears as he leans down. His other hand comes to rest on your hip and when his lips touch yours, a soft, tentative pressure, you're not prepared for the electricity that shoots through you.
He's barely done anything and already you feel like you're floating. Your own hands reach out to clutch his shirt, keeping him close, afraid he'll pull away and leave you cold and wanting if you don't. But he stays put, pressing himself against you, his lips working gently against yours. You follow his lead, kissing him back while trying not to overthink it.
It's nothing like the kisses in the movies or the books, where fireworks explode behind your eyelids or where your foot pops up in the air. It's far more subdued, more quiet and subtle. But the warmth that pools low in your belly and the goosebumps that erupt on your skin when his tongue slides against the seam of your lips, light and quick, makes you absolutely melt. 
He pulls back before you can really react, and you're left with a dizzying rush of both blistering desire and excruciating anxiety. You want to pull him back in and never let him go. But your heart is beating so fast you can hardly breathe, your nerves are buzzing, and the urge to run and hide is nearly paralyzing. 
"Was it bad?" you ask tentatively, cheeks heated.
"No" he replies, giving your hip a squeeze as a smirk plays on his lips. "It was fucking awful. Worst kiss of my life"
"Shut up!" you hiss, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. He laughs, the sound easing some of the tension in your body. 
"I'm just teasing" he says, voice dropping lower. "C'mere, we can work on it."
His lips find yours again, and you try not to smile into the kiss but it's hard when you can feel the way his lips are quirked up as well. It doesn’t take much else to get you to relax and let yourself fall into the moment, into the gentle press of his mouth and the warm hands on your hip and your cheek. He swipes his tongue against your lips again, his fingers pressing lightly into the hinge of your jaw to tilt your head back and coax your lips apart.
You let him, sighing as his tongue glides across yours, hot and smooth and sweet. Your hands slide up his chest, finding purchase around his shoulders, and when you move forward, pushing yourself against him, he grunts softly but lets you. He kisses you until the both of you are gasping for air, and when he pulls back, his lips are wet and red and you're certain yours must be as well.
"Better?" you ask, a bit breathless.
"Getting there" he answers with, his breath warm where it fans across your cheek. 
"You're such a liar" you say with a goofy smile.
"Yeah, I know. Now try again, practice makes perfect.” 
You roll your eyes but lean back in nonetheless. It's a bit more heated this time, the feeling of his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip making you squirm. His hand rounds over your hip, palm smoothing to the small of your back to pull you closer, the heat of his body radiating through your clothes and warming your skin. Your hands move on their own accord, no thought behind the action as they slide up to his shoulders and then his neck, your fingers finding home in the curls at the base of his skull. When you give them a slight tug, you're rewarded with a muffled grunt from Joel. Emboldened, you pull back, lips swollen and tingling.
"You’re a good kisser,” you pant. "Is that something people usually say?"
"When it’s true" he says, grinning at you. "And since I know you're gonna ask, I'd say that was a C+, maybe a B-."
You scoff but blush furiously at the smile he flashes, his eyes crinkling in the corners.
"Well then, tell me what to do next. What do I need to know?"
Joel hums as he thinks for a moment. 
"What do you want to do?"
You stare at him for a second, blinking.
"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you" you say, shaking your head a bit.
"Well, how far do you want to take this?"
You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy. You can’t deny that when the idea popped in your head it was accompanied by the mental image of you naked, spread out on his bed, but the actual act of asking him, or better yet, actually doing it is... intimidating to say the least. Are you really about to let him go all the way, to see you bare and vulnerable, let him pop your cherry as he would disgustingly put it? All just to “prepare” for a date with a guy who might not even like you that way?
Yeah, probably.
"All the way" you answer. “I want to go all the way” 
He doesn’t pounce on you like you expected, doesn’t press his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss that you had half hoped for. Instead, he simply looks at you, his brown eyes boring into yours, searching.
"Are you sure? You can always say no and you're not gonna lose me as a friend if this isn’t what you actually want. I don’t want you thinking that."
You can't help the laugh that bubbles up and slips out, because of course Joel, your kind, thoughtful Joel, would say that. He's a good man. A great one, even.
"Yes, I'm sure. But if you don't, I get it, I can just leave and-"
Joel laughs, the sound traveling up from deep in his chest, the rumble vibrating against you.
"Sweetheart, I wouldn't be doin’ this if I didn't want to. Just makin’ sure this is what you really want."
"I want it.” 
He squeezes your hip and swipes a thumb over your cheekbone once again. 
“Alright then.” He nods, firm and resolute, and then looks around the room. “ We’re not doing it here, though. If you're getting the full Joel Miller experience, we're gonna do it right.” 
Your eyes roll reflexively, but your heart picks up its pace regardless.
"I’m not gonna do anything if you call it that ever again."
"Fine, fine,” he relents. “Let me show you what a good, thorough fucking feels like. Better?"
Your jaw drops, and he's laughing at you, his body shaking with amusement.
"Fuck you" you grumble, shoving him away while trying to hide your coy smile. 
"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for," he says with a wide, self-assured grin.
"I'm leaving" you declare with a false sense of offense as you rise to your feet. Joel is quick to do the same and before you can take a single step away, he slips a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugs you back into him, wrapping an arm around your waist.
"I’ll stop, I’ll stop. I'm sorry" he says, not sounding it one bit.
You huff, but let him pull you closer until you’re pressed against his chest and you have to tilt your head back to look at him.
"I’ll be good. I promise."
"Liar"
"Well, yeah. But I can promise that I'll make you feel good."
You can't help the giggle that spills out and he kisses it away, his lips warm and plush and sweet against yours. The hand not resting on your lower back comes up, curling around the nape of your neck and keeping you close. You sink into him, and the fog creeps in again, dulling the rest of the world, making it seem fuzzy and distant, like the memory of a dream. All you can focus on is him, the warm solid weight of him against you, the strong arms holding you, the way his mouth moves against yours. And then he’s pulling back all too soon and you have to stifle a whine.
"Come on" he says, tugging at your hand.
His bedroom is dim, the little lamp on his nightstand and the faint glow of the moon through the curtains providing the only light. You swallow and take a deep breath as you step inside, your bare toes digging into the plush carpet, his hand warm and large where it grips yours.
He holds onto you as he sits on the edge of the bed. You step forward, letting him pull you between his knees. His hands settle on your hips, and you can feel their heat through the fabric of your shirt.
He doesn’t ask if you're sure again and you’re grateful because you’re not sure if you could form any kind of response right now. Instead, he slides his hands up and under your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your breath hitches as his hands smooth over your ribs and around to your back, the tips of his fingers mapping out the curve of your spine, skimming over each notch and bump. They climb higher, the fabric of your shirt bunching around his wrists. 
“Can I take this off, baby?”
Your heart jumps to your throat but you nod anyway. He grabs the hem and tugs your shirt up and and you lift your arms so he can slip it off over your head. He tosses it aside, the fabric falling to the floor beside the bed. You’re left exposed, vulnerable and bare, save for the worn out bra you wear, a few too many washes and a few years past its prime.
Your hands itch where they hang by your side with the instinct to cover yourself, hide the imperfections that you know so well, the stretch marks, the softness of your stomach, the way the cups of your bra are just a bit too small and spill over the tops.
But then he’s pressing his lips to the space just above your navel, his scruff tickling your skin and making the muscles in your abdomen jump and twitch. His hands find your waist again, and when his lips continue their path upwards, his palms follow, skimming up your sides, thumbs tracing the outline of your ribs before stopping at the band of your bra.
"This too?" he asks, voice quiet and husky.
"Yeah" you answer with a squeak, and he grins like a kid in a candy store.
His fingers undo the clasp deftness that makes your knees go weak, the straps slipping from your shoulders and the whole thing sliding down your arms, landing somewhere near your shirt. 
"God, baby, look at you" he murmurs, his hands cupping the underside of your breasts, his thumbs sweeping over the tops and then down the slope and around your nipple. Your breath hitches, the gentle touch sending a shiver up your spine. "You're fucking perfect."
The praise is unexpected and it sends a jolt of heat through your core. You whimper quietly and his hands are on you again, the calloused palms rough on the soft skin of your breasts. He kneads the flesh, squeezing gently before rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling and pinching and teasing. 
He pulls you closer and ducks his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes dark and hooded, and his pupils blown wide with desire.
"Can I?" he asks.
"Please."
He leans in and wraps his lips around a peaked nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, the gentle heat of his mouth on your skin making your knees weak.
His mouth works on one breast, tongue flicking and teasing while his free hand continues its work on the other. Pleasure builds and coils deep inside, the sensation unfamiliar but certainly not unwelcome. You whimper and he pulls away, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before giving it a sweet parting kiss.
He turns his attention to the other, his teeth grazing over the stiff peak and drawing a whine from your lips. He sighs when your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at the strands until he groans softly against you. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressing against it and dragging up and around, swirling and flicking. You’re already breathless, panting, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your forehead.
"Feels good, Joel," you whisper shyly. 
"I know, honey" he says, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he pulls away. "Feel good anywhere else?"
He doesn't wait for a response, simply slips a hand between your thighs, cupping you through the denim, the simple action making you squeak.
"Here, huh?" he says, the heel of his palm pressing against you.
You gasp softly and nod, biting your lip, too shy to say anything.
"Get on the bed, baby."
You comply, crawling onto the mattress and scooting backwards towards the pillows, sitting at the head of the bed as you watch him. His eyes never leave you as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Your heart thumps as you stare at his bare chest, his tanned skin dotted with a light dusting of salt and pepper hair. He's broad, his shoulders thick and chest solid. Your fingers burn with the urge to reach out and touch him, so you do, extending a tentative, slightly shaky hand.
He watches you closely, eyes flitting down to the palm pressed against his chest before meeting yours again, his mouth curling into a smile.
"You can touch" he says, reaching down to curl a hand around your wrist and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding your hand back down to his chest. "I think most people would enjoy that."
"You're having entirely too much fun with this,” you mumble while your fingers spread out across his pec.  
"It is fun" he counters, his own hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the seam of your jeans and rubbing up and down. "But it'll be more fun once these come off"
Your lips part, a puff of air rushing out.
"You gonna take them off?" you ask, the words slipping out, bold and unbidden.
He grins, his brow quirking up.
"Look at you, being all bossy"
"You like it" you say, finally feeling some of the anxiety slipping away, the familiar and comfortable banter between the two of you slipping into place in a new, unfamiliar situation.
His smile takes up nearly his whole face as moves closer. 
“I sure do.” 
He looms over you, bracing himself on an elbow next to your head before ducking down to kiss you, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth, warm and insistent. You sigh into it, your hands finding the warm, bare skin of his back, muscles gliding beneath your palms as you slide them up and around, fingertips digging into his shoulders. He's so warm and solid and you can't help the little noise that slips out, a soft, needy moan. You're about to break the kiss and beg him to touch you, give you something, anything, but he pulls back before you can. 
"Impatient. I like that too" he says, voice barely above a whisper.
He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. He continues his path, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones and down the valley between your breasts, his beard tickling your sternum.
His palm presses into the top of your thigh, and you instinctively open your legs for him, his hand immediately moving to cup you through the denim, thick fingers pressing against the seam and the bundle of nerves just below. Your hips rock up, seeking more pressure and he grins, entirely too pleased with himself right now.
You huff, and he laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, but he relents, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans and tugging the fabric down, revealing the pair of pink panties underneath. 
Joel sits up, pulling your jeans down your legs and letting them drop off the side of the bed, the sound of the denim hitting the floor indicating that you've officially crossed a line that neither of you can come back from. But if the hungry, desperate look on his face and the way you're practically vibrating underneath him are any indication, neither of you want to.
"I'll start with just my fingers, yeah?" he says, his hands running up the insides of your thighs, touch light and teasing, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. You nod dumbly, at a complete loss for words right now.
He ducks his head, his lips landing on the smooth skin stretched over your hip bone. You squirm, ticklish, and he grins. His mouth is a great distraction from his hand, which has found its way back in between your legs, his fingers now pressing against damp fabric.
"Shit" he curses, his touch firm. "Fuckin' soaked already. Am I just that good?" he quips with a smirk.
"Jesus do you ever shut up" you gripe, but the effect is ruined by the whimper that escapes you when his thumb sweeps up, pressing hard against your clit. 
"Oh, that's a pretty sound" he murmurs, repeating the motion to pull out another one, your hips bucking against his hand.
"Now," he starts, his tone shifting to the same one he uses when he's about to impart some life lesson. "This guy you're gonna see, or any man for that matter, should always take care of you before himself. That's just common fuckin' sense. And if he doesn't, you send him on his way" he continues. "Because a man that don't wanna see a woman get off is no fuckin' man at all"
You're about to interrupt, tell him he's an idiot and ask him to please, please, get on with it, but his fingers sliding under the elastic of your panties, swiftly pulling them down your legs steals the breath from your lungs. Your pulse sky rockets and you shift underneath him, crossing your thighs in instinctual effort to hide yourself from him. 
"M'sorry I didn't shave or anything" you blurt out, your throat tight with anxiety and embarrassment once again 
Joel just shakes his head as he pries your legs apart.
"Baby, I could not give less of a shit about that."
"But-"
"No" he says, the word firm, an edge of command to his tone. "You’re not apologizin’ for that. And if a man gives a shit, he's a fuckin' child who doesn't deserve the honor of bein' between these thighs" he says, pushing your knees further apart.
You nod and bite your lip, the words that are just so very Joel, settling in your chest and easing the tension in your body. You let out a long, slow breath and relax, trying to ease the nervousness.
"There ya go" he says, his fingers dancing along your slit, gathering the slick pooling there. You shudder at the gentle touch, your hips rolling up just a bit before you force them back down into the mattress, trying to keep yourself still.
"Nuh-uh. None of that" he says, immediately noticing the movement. He slides his free hand under you, his palm pushing into the small of your back and encouraging you to move again, to lean into your pleasure. "You take what you want, baby. Show me how good it feels. That's all I wanna see."
You squirm and whimper, the simple, almost lazy touch driving you insane. You've touched yourself before, brought yourself over the edge while imagining what it would be like to have the things you read about and watch in videos happen to you. But you've never managed to make yourself feel this good, never felt pleasure so intense, never felt a burning pressure in your abdomen so demanding that it radiates all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.
And he's barely touched you.
"How's that feel?"
You can't even form the words, so you just nod and hum, the sound a mix of a whimper and a moan, your hips rolling up against his palm. He chuckles, and then the pressure increases, the friction building, his fingers slipping down, collecting more of your wetness to ease the drag against your skin.
He moves his fingers down, down, down, the tip of one circling your entrance, gathering the wetness pooling there. You whine loudly, any shame and modesty you once had replaced entirely with desperate need and pure desire.
"Please, Joel" you whisper, voice shaky.
"I gotcha" he says, dipping his fingertip in, just barely, and pulling a moan from deep in your chest. "Gonna give you what you need"
You groan, a long, low sound as he slowly sinks his finger into you. It's nothing like your own, so perfectly thick and long/ And you found the spot before, the spot that he curls his finger up into, but never at this angle, never with the perfect amount of pressure that he's applying right now. 
"Mmm, look at that" he coos as you clench tightly around his finger.
"Joel, god, feels so good" you whimper pathetically. 
"I know, honey, I know."
You clench again, the cockiness and self-assured attitude that usually gets under your skin now ignites your whole body in an entirely different way. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, your head tipping back as the pleasure builds.
"Another" you beg, the fullness not nearly enough.
"Greedy girl" he chides, but he pulls his finger out, and slides two back in. You swear that you could come from this alone, but he doesn't let you, the hand that was supporting your lower back disappearing, only to reappear between your thighs, his thumb circling your clit with firm, steady strokes.
White hot pleasure wraps around the base of your spine, the dual sensations of his fingers and his thumb sending you spiraling. The sounds falling from your lips are unrecognizable, high and desperate as your mind goes blissfully blank, your entire focus on the heat coiling in your abdomen. Your eyebrows pinch together and you bury your face in the pillow next to your head, trying to hide the ridiculous expression you're surely making, but you inhale the traces of his shampoo and cologne that cling to the fabric, the scent pushing you even closer to the edge. 
You try to hold back. Surely you're not supposed to come this quickly, not just from two fingers and a thumb. Surely that's a sign that you're an easy lay, or too inexperienced, or-
"Just let it happen, baby. I can feel it, Just let go" Joel says, his voice cutting through the thoughts racing through your mind, his fingers crooking inside you and dragging across the spot that makes your hips stutter and a cry fall from your lips.
You can't hold back any longer, the pleasure cresting and crashing down around you. You squeeze his fingers, your back arching, the heels of your feet digging into the mattress as you roll your hips up into his touch, seeking more and more and more. And he gives and gives and gives, working you through it and drawing it out for as long as he can before you melt into the mattress, bones and muscles liquid and warm and satisfied.
He pulls his fingers out, and the sudden emptiness draws a disappointed whine from you, his answering chuckle making you smile.
"That was- fuck" you sigh, not quite capable of coherent thought.
"Absolutely mind-blowing? Yeah I know" he teases. You roll your eyes but don't say anything because it's true, and his cocky grin fades into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you return to Earth. 
"Can I- can I return the favor?" you ask, your gaze flicking down to the noticeable bulge in his jeans.
He grunts and shakes his head.
"Not yet. Got somethin' else in mind."
You frown and push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he shifts from his position. You're about to ask what he's going to do until he's settling himself on his stomach between your thighs. You suck in a sharp breath as you realize exactly what he's got planned and your heart jumps, anxiety clouding your mind once again. 
He rests his cheek on your thigh, his eyes meeting yours.
"Alright?"
You swallow and nod, licking your lips.
"Yeah. Just... no one's ever-"
"Yeah, I got that much, that's why we're here" he says, smiling smugly when you glare at him. 
"But what if it's not good? Or I don't taste good? Or-"
"Stop" he says, the single word halting your runaway train of thought. "You need lessons in relaxing, not sex. You're so fucking tense all the time"
"Sorry" you say, immediately cringing.
He sighs, his breath ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. "What did I say about apologizin'?" he says, his tone slightly sharp.
"I know. Sorry- shit, sorry! Fuck!"
He barks out a laugh and you huff, bringing up both hands to scrub over your face.
"See what I mean?"
"Yes, yes, you're very smart and know everything"
He hums and nips at your thigh.
"Damn right I do."
You want to snark back, but his mouth is moving, his lips trailing down the inside of your thigh and towards where you're aching for him, slick and wet and throbbing. He takes his time, laying kisses on your thighs, hips, and stomach, his scruff scraping the sensitive skin, huffing out a laugh when you start to squirm, your patience wearing thin.
His hands smooth over the soft flesh of your inner thighs, urging you to spread them wider before spreading you open with his thumbs, exposing you completely. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and the urge to close your legs and hide yourself from his gaze is overwhelming, the embarrassment making your skin burn. But before you can even think about closing them, his tongue is on you, sliding up the length of you and circling your clit. The moan that escapes you is embarrassingly loud and high pitched, but the mortification is easily swallowed up by the pleasure.
He hums against you, the sound and the feeling sending a shudder through your body. Your hands grip the pillow behind your head and you try not to buck up into his mouth, but your attempts are futile. He doesn't seem to mind though, in fact you think it spurs him on, his tongue flattening against you and lapping at you messily, the wetness he's coaxed from you smearing across his mouth and chin.
The sound is lewd and obscene, the sloppy, slick noises and the soft grunts and groans that rumble in his chest as he works you up. He pulls back, his breath coming out in pants, his chest heaving as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and hooded.
"Don't know what you were worried about" he says, his voice low and raspy. "You taste fuckin' divine"
His beard is shiny and damp, his lips glistening, hair messy from where your fingers were tangled in it. The sight of him looking so completely disheveled and filthy has you clenching around nothing, the ache almost too much to bear.
He doesn't say anything else, just ducks his head and gets back to work, his mouth moving with a renewed urgency, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them further apart, allowing him better access.
Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open, a constant stream of moans and whines and babbling pleas and praises falling from your lips, but you're not really sure what you're saying, not really sure of anything except the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your veins.
You hear him moan, can feel the vibration against your skin, and you glance down at him, and that's a mistake. The sight of him, his eyes closed and brows drawn together in concentration, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks and nips and laps at you and– is he fucking grinding his hips into the mattress?
You're fucked.
A throaty moan tumbles past your lips as your hips start to rock, a rhythm forming as you chase your orgasm. His hands leave your thighs and he slides one arm up, the weight of it resting against your abdomen to keep you still while his other hand snakes down, fingers dipping inside again, finding the spot that makes you see stars.
"Fuck, Joel, please, oh my god, I'm so- please"
He groans in response, the hand on your stomach pressing down harder to meet the two fingers curling and stroking inside of you. You cry out at the increased pressure right as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud, his fingers moving faster and faster. Flames lick up your spine and spread throughout your body, threatening to burn you alive. 
Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, knocking the wind out of you and turning your limbs to jello. Wave after wave of blinding euphoria crashes over you and all you can do is cling to the pillow and arch your back, your toes curling as he continues to work his fingers and tongue, happily letting you ride his face and grind into his mouth.
He doesn't let up, not until you're a whimpering, trembling mess, physically pushing his head away when it becomes too much. He pulls back reluctantly, a wicked grin plastered to his face, his chin and mouth absolutely soaked. You're panting, struggling to catch your breath as the aftershocks make you shiver despite the content warmth spreading throughout your entire body.You feel sated and sleepy, a bone deep satisfaction making you feel boneless. 
But as you come down from your high, rational thoughts start to filter in and you suddenly remember the reason this all started in the first place.
You're here to learn, he should be teaching you how to please a man.
How to please him. 
You watch as he gets off the bed and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. Your eyes shamelessly rake over him, the dusty pink flush that decorates his neck and chest, the curve of his belly down to the impressive bulge in his jeans. 
You push yourself up, ignoring the way your arms tremble with the effort. He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face no doubt looking for signs of distress.
"You ok?" he asks, eyebrows pinched together in his typical concerned Joel fashion.
"Yeah" you say, a little breathlessly. "But I still want to..."
Your voice trails off and you glance down at his crotch, hoping he gets the message.
"That's alright, baby. It's a lot, we don't-"
"No" you interrupt, a hint of desperation in your voice. "You said you would teach me. Please, Joel. I-I wanna learn" You hope it's a good enough cover to the fact that you really just want him, your original goal forgotten. "I just don't want to embarrass myself" you add, pouting slightly for good measure, praying to god that he can’t detect the underlying want for him and him only.
He watches you for a moment, seemingly contemplating his decision. And then his eyes narrow, because of course he knows. There's never been an instance where you succeeded in lying to this man. He always, always knows when something is off.
"Alright" he says, a slow smile spreading across his face, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. "Dick sucking class is now in session"
You groan, your face twisting with visible disgust.
"Oh my god, that was terrible."
"What? It's true" he says with a shrug.
"That is- no, no way. Never say those words ever again. Ever." you say, pointing a finger at him accusingly.
"Or what?" he challenges, taking a step towards the bed.
You gulp and lick your lips.
"Or..."
He waits expectantly for a response. You have none, so you just shake your head and look away.
"Yeah, that's what I thought"
You glare at him and then sigh.
"You're a bully"
"Am I?” He asks, taking a step back to give you more room. “ 'Cause you're the one that asked me to teach ya. On your knees, kid. Let's see whatcha got."
You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress a grin. You don't know how he does it, but his ability to make a joke or a quip out of anything always has a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, even when the jokes are awful and the puns are terrible. Even when the joke is about you getting ready to suck his dick. 
"You're a bully and a pervert" you say, sliding off the bed and sliding to your knees, the plush carpet doing a decent job at protecting your joints.
"And proud of it.”
"Pride is a sin."
"So is premarital sex, so I'll see you in hell, honey"
You snort and look up at him from your place on the floor, grinning widely.
"You're ridiculous"
"You love it"
And that's the thing, isn't it?
Because you do. You love his innate ability to make you laugh, to make you smile even when he's about to take your fucking virginity. He knows how to comfort you, how to put you at ease, when to push you with his teasing and when to pull back and let you take control. You've never met a person who has so effortlessly made their way into your heart.
And here you are, on your knees for him under the false pretense of practicing for a man who's name you can't even remember right now.
You shake your head, the motion clearing the thoughts and the emotions that were swirling in your head, the ones that make you want to stand up and kiss him, kiss him until your lips are numb and you're left gasping for air.
"Joel?" you say his name softly.
"Yeah, baby?"
"Teach me."
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Part 2 is already in the works I promise hehehe thank you for reading I hope u all enjoy!!
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formulafics · 1 month
Text
❀ MAKE IT REAL | OP81
Scenario: basically ‘the winner takes all’, but oscar edition…or, the one where despite yn being the closest to oscar, no one suspects the two to be dating. that is, until a video of the pair at a valley concert comes out. (inspired by the song ‘Cure’ by Valley (bless @renarots for this one))
Pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader
A/N: squadron, it is an oscar day. it took me entirely too long to get to this request, but i’ve finally made it. i hope you guys like this fic as much as i liked making it 🫶🏻
MASTERLIST
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ynln on instagram
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, logansargeant, and 92,431 others
ynln happy halloween 🎃😚
view all 3,212 comments
landonorris why is oscar standing like that
⤷ ynln he’s just a boy leave him alone
papayabull MY BABIES THEYRE SO CUTE
dreamyalbon this friendship is everything to me
⤷ formulaferrari not a single thing about yn and oscars relationship is giving “friends” but okay
⤷ dreamyalbon there’s no way they’re anything more than friends though 😭
rizzciardo the way yn’s whole feed is becoming oscar is so funny
formulaverstappen who’s gonna tell them that daphne and fred had a romantic relationship
⤷ ln4nation to be fair, it’s pretty common for friends to go as romantic duos, platonically.
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ynln on instagram
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxfewtrell, riabish, logansargeant, and 142,211 others
ynln the best mornings ☀️ (also i made oscar the bracelet he’s wearing in the third slide i feel so proud of myself)
view all 3,456 comments
oscarpiastri ❤️
riabish second slide 🥹
⤷ norrisnation ria and yn’s friendship is my favorite thing ever
dreamyalbon yn making oscar a bracelet is so cute </3
formulaferrari another day, another oscar post from yn. i love it here
landosbeachball THE ONLY BESTIES EVER 🫶🏻 the slide of them holding hands omg
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f1wagsdaily on Instagram
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13,621 likes
f1wagsdaily do you think yn ln is dating anyone on the grid? if so, who? 👀
(left to right) yn and lando, yn and daniel, yn and charles
view all 1,342 comments
norrisnation im so convinced that if it’s anyone it’s danny ric 😭 how do you go to music festivals and football games together so often and NOT date
⤷ charlesrrari yes but also they don’t hang out NEARLY as much anymore? also to be fair, yn’s closest friend - oscar aside - is lando, so it’s kind of natural that she would be in the mclaren garage more, so it just SEEMS like it’s daniel? idk im not convinced that it’s him
formula44 idk i feel like lando is the only one that makes sense
⤷ papayabull what about oscar?
⤷ formula44 idk i just can’t see them together
xf1x oscar piastri (solely based on how much they’re togwther)
⤷ papayanorris lore drop: yn rejected oscar in f3 because he was too busy so id imagine it’s the same now 🤷🏻‍♀️
⤷ xf1x to me that makes it seem more likely since that means they were obviously interested in each other?
⤷ papayanorris good point but maybe theyve moved on? 👀
⤷ pastrypiastri okay but imagine dating oscar and he’s THAT close with another girl, and same with yn being that close with another guy? idk this thread might have put me on the ynoscar agenda 🤭
shumirrari wild guess: jenson button (if you know you know)
⤷ chilisainz what am i missing?
⤷ shumirrari basically lando and jenson button are sort of friends so lando introduced yn to jenson at a race, and lando took pictures of them together. i’m pretty sure yn posted them a while back? idk but it was just a silly guess (her and jenson would be cute though, but i highly doubt it’s them LMAO)
formulaferrari i am TIRED why does no one have faith in the oscyn agenda
⤷ formulaferrari also does no one notice that oscar always is kind of shy around yn or am i actually delusional on this one
⤷ charlesrrari wait lowkey you’re onto something rn 👀
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grandprixsandgossip on Instagram
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liked by ynln and 24,532 others
grandprixsandgossip Oscar Piastri and Yn Ln, a known friend of many drivers on the grid, seen kissing outside of a concert arena last night.
view all 2,321 comments
norrisnation girl there’s three pixels on my screen that could be anyone
papayabull oscar jack piastri what are you DOING
piastrisgirl never, and i mean NEVER, did i expect that out of all the f1 drivers, oscar would be the one where we find out about his girlfriend like this
ln4world this cannot be real
formulaferrari SCREAMING IM INSANE THIS IS EVERHTINH TO ME
stardustf1 okay but wasn’t oscar wearing a hoodie in the other picture that the one guy posted?
⤷ rizzciardo yes, but i’m assuming oscar took the hoodie off and gave it to yn, because not only can you see her wearing a hoodie in this picture (even though it’s blurry, it looks like the same one oscar was wearing), AND ria posted a story of her and yn goofing off after the concert where yn was wearing a black hoodie so 👀
chilisainz were not gonna mention yn in the likes?
⤷ norrisnation she’s having her pierre moment 🤷🏻‍♀️
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ynln on Instagram
🎶 Cure - Valley
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, alex_albon, danielricciardo, and 124,521 others
ynln concerts are my heaven, but they’re paradise when i’m with him 🫶🏻 @/oscarpiastri is my concert buddy for life whether he wants it or not
view all 3,452 comments
landonorris but are you dating or?
⤷ ynln i’m gonna need you to be so fr rn lando
oscarpiastri fortunately for us, i’m more than happy to be your concert buddy. ❤️
⤷ ynln music to my ears 😚
riabish literally the cutest couple i know *liked by ynln*
princepiastri THE CAPTION, OSCARS COMMENT, THE PICTURES?? THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE
formula44 yn im sorry for not believing in you and oscar
dreamyalbon AND WHOS GOING TO MENTION THE SONG??
⤷ yukit22enthusiast AS A VALLEY LOVER I AM RIGJT THERE WITH YOU
formulaferrari THE FACT THAT THESE SRE ALL DIFFERENT CONCERTS OH MYGOD
formulaferrari i can finally call them my parents and not get flamed
papayabull and so whatever you do don’t listen to the song because i’m so upset
⤷ stardustf1 someone harassed(/j) the guy who took the picture of them at the concert into telling them what song was playing when he took that picture and it was cure 🫠💔
⤷ papayabull NOOOOO it’s officially their song, i don’t make the rules
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TAGLIST
@renarots @jsjcue @treehouse-mouse @lovstappen @illicitverstappen @vellicora @lokietro @arkhammaid @piasstrisblog @leclercvsx @i-love-ptv @pretty-little-bunny382728 @kortneej81 @elliegrey2803 @marshmummy @spidersophie @stopeatread @minkyungseokie @jellyfish123guts @harrysdimple05 @fastcarsandshit @motorsp0rt @sadieurlady @cixrosie @hiireadstuff
Thank you for reading! All feedback is appreciated 💞
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lolabangtan · 1 year
Text
sideshow | jjk
You’re a successful cam girl in need of a hot guy with a big cock, and you think you’ve found your match.
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Word count: 9k
Warnings: smut, dub-con fantasy.
# cam girl!reader, coffee shop AU, mutual pining, hand job, oral sex (female and male receiving), squirting, face sitting, restraints, unprotected sex, face-fucking, dacryphilia, overstimulation and post-orgasm torture, teasing/degradation, cream pie, cum play, recording kink, dub-con role play, they’re so cute *sobs*
A/N: let’s not ask about this and enjoy it without wondering where the inspiration came from.
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You’re always staring at him. When you’re in line waiting for your order, chatting with someone else when he’s nearby, or even when you secretly spot him working as you pass by the window – you’re always staring at Jeon Jungkook.
Your friends mock you for it whenever they get the chance. It’s almost as if you, the sexy, mysterious girl who records herself for a living, having such a silly, wholesome crush on someone was the most amusing thing they’ve ever heard. But a guy like him, so kind and hot and funny, is worth it, and you won’t deny it.
But being honest, they’re right by showing their surprise. You just don’t come off as the kind of girl who’d fall for a guy like him.
Apart from being kind, hot, and funny, Jeon Jungkook is also extremely popular while still being down to earth. An endangered specimen – if there’s ever been one before. He’s got his tattoos, and his adorable dog, and his decent schoolwork managing skills, and his outstanding talent at any sport to ever exist. And in the meantime, you sometimes catch him staring back, so your mind has to work twice as much to fish for an excuse. You just think it’ll be better in the long run.
Because honestly, people always talk. They point at you, make comments, or ask creepy questions. Surely Jeon Jungkook, with his brilliant future, doesn’t want that just because his cock might get hard with one of your videos.
In a way – a stupid, pointless way – you’re always staring at each other.
“You could try and talk to him one day, you know. Maybe then you’ll see there’s literally not a single thought behind those silly doe eyes.”
You can’t help laughing at Seokjin’s words, almost choking on your coffee. “Isn’t that a bit mean? I thought you liked him.”
“And I do!”
“Hm, look at the time.” You check your phone before putting it back into your purse. “I’d better hurry if I don’t wanna keep my sister waiting. We’ll talk later, okay? And I will not approach him just because. I really don’t need any gossip about me.”
Well, you’re just stressed. You need some money for your Spring break trip to the beach, but you aren’t exactly thrifty. Actually, you’re quite the opposite.
So, you’ve come up with an idea: charging for requests and uploading them to your website. The answer from your subscribers was immediate and increasingly positive, with only one problem.
The most voted idea was a POV, which sadly required another person to join you. Someone with a big, nice cock if it’s possible. You’d ask Seokjin, but he’d never let his almost little sister-like friend suck his cock and give him four orgasms in a row. And it’s not something you’d do either in a world where you weren’t desperate.
You’re not going to lie, there’s only one person you’d want to do that video with – and he’s walking out into the backbar right now.
The two of you stop at the same time as you walk past each other. Not noticing his presence next to you, you keep looking at the poster with the newest sweet additions to the menu and sigh with satisfaction at the fact that you’ll be able to keep enjoying your good old butter croissants.
Then you turn around.
“Oh, shit— sorry! God, I’m so clumsy! Let me help you.”
You squat down to pick up the broken pieces of glass scattered on the floor. When you look up, you’re met with the sight of a staring Jeon Jungkook bent in front of you.
“I’m sorry,” you manage to repeat.
His lips twitch as if he wanted to say something, but the man keeps quiet as you hand him back his stuff. You can’t help looking down at his muscular arms, covered in black ink. Although Jungkook remains impassive and cool, here you are, practically malfunctioning – while he’s probably wondering why the cam girl hasn’t left yet.
“Just— be careful. Don’t cut yourself.”
He does look like a bunny, now that you think of it. A really hot bunny.
Fucking shit, you can’t help it, can you? To stare, to drool, to picture your hands stroking down his chest, kneading the flesh. You love ripped guys, especially when it doesn’t get over their heads. You’d eat him up in a second, pinky promise.
“Sorry,” you say again, standing up. “I wasn’t looking.”
“Y/N! Are you okay?”
Namjoon rushes up to you, breaking the strange silence between you and Jungkook. He sees the mess and starts to pick up the broken pieces, asking you to step back just in case. With a nod, the youngest offers to go and fetch a broom, and Namjoon thanks him.
Your friend lets out a laugh. “Only with my homeboy, huh?”
“Hm?”
“You only get like this with Jungkookie,” he explains. “The rest of the time, you’re a merciless succubus.”
“Shut up, he’s gonna hear you,” you groan.
Namjoon starts wiping the floor, and you help him by picking up the plastic bag.
“Do you think he likes you back?”
You shrug. “I guess he might be attracted to me, but I don’t think he likes me... in that sense. I don’t care, though – it’s not like we’re a match or something. I’m probably just attracted too.”
Jungkook comes back with the broom and cleans the floor while you look around in a poor attempt to avoid his eyes. You don’t notice the way he looks at you, nor the pent-up frustration with which he grips the stick of the broom, his lips twitching again.
“Well, I, uh— I’ll leave you to it. And sorry again, I wasn’t looking.”
With that, you rush out of the coffee shop and run down the street until you reach the number you were looking for. Taking out your keys, you open the door and walk in, going directly to the second floor.
When you get into the flat, the storm unleashes:
“God, I was so worried! You should’ve told me you’d be running late.”
Like always, visiting your older sister comes with a nagging and a steamy cup of coffee. You’re enjoying both of them sitting in her kitchen.
“You’re exaggerating,” you groan.
“Yeah, sure, it’s not like any of your creepy fans could ever doxx you or something and kidnap you.” With a raised eyebrow, you stare at her over the mug. “Hm, okay, just build the habit of telling me if you’re gonna be late, okay?”
“Okay.”
“So” – she turns around with a grin and leaves her mug in front of you – “who is this Jungkook guy and why haven’t you asked him out already?”
Your face turns a bright red. “How do you know about—? Fucking Jin...”
“Come on, you’re usually bolder. You really like him, don’t you?” At your shrugging, your sister chuckles. “You’re entitled to like people, you know that, right? And hit on them, and ask them out. Just because you had a few bad experiences—”
“It’s just not gonna happen,” you blurt out. “You know why? First, because he’s not remotely interested in me. And second, because I know, I just know how this is going to end if I do,” you continue, your face growing warmer. “And I don’t care about all the nice guys out there because, in the end, they’re all the same; dicks with an excuse of a brain.”
“You want to have sex with him, don’t you?”
“Uh, yeah?”
She laughs again. “Then try the opposite! You think he’d only be interested in the shagging? Go shag. And then see if he stays.”
You bury your face in the palms of your hands, thankful for the chilly contact. The skin cools down, and a sigh escapes from your lips.
“What if he says no?”
“Then he doesn’t want to fuck. That’s uncommon for a man so, one point for him.”
Ah, yes, your sister and her logic; it’s utterly stupid and yet, you always fail to rebuke her absurd reasoning. It’s almost a talent, you think. Maybe that’s why she’s a lawyer.
“Well, I do have a plan,” you murmur.
Her eyes brighten immediately. “Then go for it, tiger! He’s super cute, and super hot! Better get your heart broken by a ten if all men suck.”
The coffee shop is almost closing when you arrive; you had asked Namjoon who was closing tonight so, when you heard it’d be him, you rushed out of your sister’s place to get there in time. This is a one-time chance.
You spot him behind the window, wiping a cup.
There’s a sigh coming out from his mouth when the door jingles open. The common frustration of having a last-minute customer.
“Hey.”
“Ah— it’s you,” Jungkook says with a soft voice, and you frown. “I-I mean, I thought you were some annoying random, sorry… I don’t mind making you a coffee.”
Oh, that was nice. Very nice.
You quietly take a seat at the counter. “Thanks.”
“Uh, so…” You’re lucky Jungkook isn’t facing you, turned from you instead as he turns on the coffee machine. Otherwise, he’d notice your red face and the eagerness with which you listen to him as he stutters, “I-it’s pretty late— for a coffee. Do you have to stay up late tonight?”
“Not exactly.”
Finally, Jungkook turns around and hands you the coffee, looking pretty much puzzled.
“I was wondering if you’d like to work with me,” you finally let out, and your chest feels weightless for a second— until you come back to earth and realise that you’ll have to hear an answer.
He’s looking at you in complete silence.
Maybe he really doesn’t know that you’re a cam girl? Maybe he’s just thinking about what your job could be and how could the two of you possibly work together. Or maybe he’s just zooming out, who knows? It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Do you want me to, uh, e-edit a—?” Jungkook gets cut off by his own coughing as his cheeks turn red. “Sorry, edit a video... for you?”
Ah.
Of course he knows.
He knows, so there’s a chance he might have watched one of them. Maybe all of them. Perhaps Namjoon told him about it, or perhaps he thought you looked familiar and asked him. In his mind – and that’s what makes it awkward, and not the fact that he’s probably watched you naked or touching yourself – he knows what you work for, and every single interaction is stained with that.
“Uh— not... Not really.” You don’t notice, but Jungkook holds his breath, and his heart starts beating faster. “It was more along the lines of making one together.”
Your heart is beating fast too.
“Me?”
Well,  I’ve been told that you’ve got a big cock, oh, and because I have a crush on you.
You shrug. “Thought you could use the money, and you do have a nice body— your face wouldn’t show, though.”
“I, uh...”
“Just asking if you were down!” you blurt out then, stepping back. “Of course, it’s up to you. I understand if you’re not comfortable with us, uh, having—”
“I-I get you,” he laughs. Now his face is as red as a strawberry.
In silence, you stand there, waiting for an answer. However, it seems like neither of you is functioning properly at the time, so you clear your throat with your heart clenching painfully in your chest and let out a shaky laugh:
“Of course, it’s too weird, so, uh— forget I said anything. Thank you for considering it, have a nice day!”
You rush out of the café, but his voice stops you:
“Wait!”
You turn around and look at him; he looks positively embarrassed, even more than you, although it’s understandable – probably due to the circumstances – so, you wait, breath hitching, for him to continue.
Jungkook looks away. “I— I didn’t say no.”
“You don’t have to give me an answer now,” you rush to clarify. “That’s my number.” You hand him a business card, which he seems too afraid to check. “Call me… if you’re interested. I’ll leave now, thank you for your time. And— uh, nothing. Bye.”
“Bye…”
By the time you leave the coffee shop, your heart is beating so hard that you think it could be a stroke. Your cheeks are boiling hot, and you struggle to walk down to the bus stop while your legs wiggle. You did it, it’d done – you’ve already asked Jeon Jungkook to film an erotic video with you for your page.
You don’t get any signs of life from Jungkook until two days later, at two in the morning.
Namjoon told you that they had met some friends for a drink after closing time, so you’re not surprised that he’s up so late. He also tends to go to bed late when he stays up playing console games.
[Saturday, 2:17 AM] Unknown: Hello, Y/N.
[Saturday, 2:17 AM] Unknown: It’s Jungkook.
[Saturday, 2:18 AM] Unknown: I have been thinking about it and, if the offer still stands, I accept.
Your heart immediately somersaults the glowing letters on your screen. Reality fell on your shoulders, and you finally understood that you would be filming that video with Jeon Jungkook. Maybe you could ask him out on a date later, but it’d be tomorrow’s you’s nuisance to worry about rejection. For the time being, you’re going to get on with the script so that you can send it to him as soon as possible.
[Saturday, 5:43 AM] You: Cool, I’ve attached the script. Just let me know if there’s anything you don’t feel comfortable with or want to change. When are you free?
[Saturday, 5:44 AM] You: Of course, we’ll go through your limits before filming.
Jungkook’s reply doesn’t arrive in time for you to read it; as soon as you’re done with it, you plummet into your bed and fall asleep, totally exhausted.
[Saturday, 5:49 AM] Jeon Jungkook: Looking forward to it!
[Saturday, 5:49 AM] Jeon Jungkook: I mean
Jeon Jungkook has deleted this message
Jeon Jungkook has deleted this message
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The bell goes through your head like a nail. Your mouth is dry and your body trembles, but you get up to open the door in the hope that it’s not Jungkook behind it.
After you had sent him the script, it took him a while to answer. Then, after three hours, he only answered ‘okay’ and asked you when you would be meeting. You agreed on the day and time, and here you are, turning the doorknob with your heart beating through your chest.
“Hi, come in.”
You step aside, and Jungkook walks into your small flat; it’s cute and cosy, with the golden light coming in through the windows. His black clothes soak in it as you watch him get comfortable and, for a second, it feels like he’s coming over for a date, just to hang out. It feels nice, that small, minute, short second.
“Want anything to drink?”
“Yes—” Jungkook clears his throat. “Yes, please. Water’s good.”
You come back with two glasses of water and sit in front of him on the couch, determined to calm down your nerves.
“Okay, so, I understand that you read the script, right?” you ask, and he nods instantly, perhaps too quickly. “Uh, so… is there anything you’d like to change? Anything you don’t feel comfortable with?”
Jungkook glances at you only to look away in the blink of an eye. He’s biting his lip again.
“No, hm, everything sounds good so far. I mean— t-there’s nothing I don’t like, like… there’s nothing that turns me… off.” He eventually gets discouraged to keep talking and gulps down the glass of water in front of him. “Sounds good, you know, with the angle you suggested.”
“Nothing at all? Are you sure? I wrote a lot of things.”
He keeps avoiding your eyes. “Yeah, I’m cool with it… And I brought the test results.”
“Good,” you murmur and take the papers as he hands them out to check them. “All clean, that’s good. I’ve got mine too, and I’m on birth control, obviously.”
“Cool.”
“I liked your suggestions for the plot, by the way.” Maybe it’s better to give Jungkook some praise for his effort, that way he will relax a little around you. “A bit wicked— but in a good way. Did you get it from a movie?”
He turns red in a second, and you have to press your thighs together. “N-no, I— it just came to my mind. I can add the effects later.”
You nod slowly and clear your throat.
Once the both of you have gone through every single detail of the script, you’re half turned on, half mortified. It’s almost as if your brain hasn’t fully processed that you will be doing all of this with Jungkook in an hour, or maybe even earlier.
“It’s okay if you’re nervous,” you say, hoping your voice doesn’t come off shaky. “And, well, we can stop at any moment, okay? We’ll just stop everything, no hard feelings.”
“Thank you…”
You give him a robe and show him the bathroom, where he gets changed and washes up only to return to your bedroom; that’s where you record everything, but there is a tarpaulin covering the whole wall, including the window. This way, and with a VPN, you make sure you keep your affairs decently hidden.
You’re also wearing a robe when Jungkook walks in, revealing the sight of your cleavage.
You walk up to him. “All good?” you ask. “Do you want anything? A glass of water? Viagra, or an energy bar?”
Jungkook stares at you, a bit surprised, or taken aback by the joke. You turn around in shame, with an apology on your lips, before you notice the way his cheeks turn red and an amused smile creeps to his own.
“A glass of water’d be great, thanks.”
When you return from the kitchen, you’re also bringing along a bunch of papers. “Here are the test results, I’m all clean. Thank you” – Jungkook hands you his own results, and you skim-read them – “I’m also on birth control, in case I didn’t tell you already, so feel free to, uh…”
“O-okay, gotcha.”
Luckily, he doesn’t make any faces as you shut up, discouraged; why are you acting like an idiot who has no idea what she’s doing? He’s probably regretting it already.
You have prepared the props for filming in your room; your bed, which you insisted on buying with a bar headboard, is already set with the ropes, so all that remains is to tie the victim with them. You’ve done the same with the foot of the bed, as well as the POV camera that’s fitted just above his head. He’s wearing a shirt and a pair of sweatpants, and you’ve put on a shirt that shows your nipples through and a pair of panties that are a bit too small so that your folds are marked.
What can you say: you consider yourself a meticulous creator.
“Okay, so I think everything’s ready. You can lie down now; I’ll take care of the rest.”
When Jungkook is finally lying on the bed, you straddle him to fasten the ties around his wrists and ankles.
It’s weird to feel his warm body beneath you after pining for him for so long; you can feel his thighs tensing and flexing under your ass, how he shifts on the mattress, looking down at your hands and how they skilfully tie him to the bed headboard. His eyes burn wherever they land, you fear you might be getting a bit of stage fright.
“How are you doing?” Jungkook murmurs a ‘good’, looking up at you. “Cool… Then we can get down to business.”
Holding your breath, you lean into him to turn on the camera and, as soon as the red light appears, you realise you’ve been holding it for too long and let out a deep sigh. Time to get into character. Don’t think about it, Y/N.
You look down at him; Jungkook stares back, waiting for you to get on with the script.
Faking a wicked smile, you bend over him and dive on his neck for a kiss, being as loud as possible, slurping and groaning. He shivers beneath you, and you feel yourself already getting turned on just by having him at your mercy like this. After all, this is supposed to be erotic.
Suddenly, Jungkook fixes your knee on his crotch and moves it a bit to the left, taking you by surprise.
“Are you awake, sweetheart?” you ask, pretending you aren’t surprised.
As you wait for a response, you bend down to leave a trail of pecks down his jaw and neck, peppering kisses on his shoulder now, as Jungkook stirs beneath you again.
“Uh… w-where am I?” he asks as he stares down at you with a pitiful frown. “Who are you?”
You let out a giggle. “I was hoping you’d recognise me, but I guess I need to be humbled… I’m the girl of your wet dreams, baby.”
“I-I don’t know what—”
You attack his lips this time, delving for a deep kiss. Jungkook eventually closes his eyes and gives in to your kiss, uttering a meek whimper against your lips and pulling at the ropes to no avail. When you move away, you sit on his crotch, happily surprised.
“Oh, what do we have here? Someone’s waking up, look.”
Before he can say anything, you pinch his tip over his trousers. He twitches again, leaking precum, as you can tell from the way a wet patch appears in the fabric.
“I’m sure it’s small, so tiny I wouldn’t even feel it,” you snicker, “but I’ll use it anyway, maybe as a plug for my butt.”
Jungkook whines, feeling himself getting even harder. “I-it’s not small—”
Honestly, when you dropped by the coffee shop and asked him to work with you on a video, he couldn’t believe it. It had always remained a fantasy, and he feared for a second that someone had ratted him out about his crush on you. ‘Someone’ as in ‘Kim Namjoon’, of course.
Jungkook has spent many hours thinking of different ways to ask you out on a date. Ever since he met you, he’s grown obsessed with you and your personality, charm, beauty, and confidence. When he started to notice you getting shy around him, a small flame of hope lit up inside of him, but why would you be into a guy like him? Yes, he isn’t bad looking, but surely, you’d be more into big, strong, sexual guys, wouldn’t you? Real men who had lots of experience in bed.
On the other hand, Jungkook becomes such a mess every time he’s around you; he drops things, he’s unable to form a coherent sentence, and you never seem to be too interested in talking to him for more than five seconds.
Now, is Jungkook in love with you? Before, he would have denied it, that this was just another crush. But now that he’s so close to you, that he can feel the sweat on your skin, that he’s one with you, he has to ask you out. Otherwise, he’ll never be happy again.
Especially now that the feeling of you straddling his lap and playing with his cock is ingrained in his memory.
“Let me go,” he barks, suddenly remembering that he has a script to follow. “I— I won’t tell anyone if you let me go now.”
You lean into him and stroke his cheek. “Why would I?”
Sucking his bottom lip into your mouth, you silence any possible reply from him and kiss him hard against the mattress. Your ass ruts against his cock mercilessly, almost by instinct, eager to feel his whines die in your mouth.
Your hands find their way beneath his shirt. With eager fingers, you brush his nipples and, hearing him whimper, keep pinching them as he stirs, fleeing your touch but at the same time seeking it. You chuckle and tease him for it, and Jungkook can only close his eyes with the genuine wish that he won’t come too soon, or at least before you get the footage you want.
You keep humping his clothed cock, now visibly hard and standing proudly against the fabric of his sweats. Between kisses, you tell him how well he’s doing.
“Let’s make a deal, shall we?” you suddenly say.
Jungkook struggles to peel his eyes open. “W-what deal?”
“If you manage not to cum before me, I’ll let you go,” you continue. “You will be totally free.”
“And— if I do?”
Shit, you forgot about this part. What happened if he came…? You can think of the paragraph and the page, but you really can’t remember the rest of the lines, shit. You totally suck at this—
“I’ll milk your cock dry until you beg me to stop – and only then will I think about it.”
Jungkook stares at you in shock, and for a second, you fear that your impromptu response has gone too far. But then you feel something hard rubbing against your pussy, and you realise that he is unconsciously humping you, twitching and getting bigger and harder.
“You’re fucking nuts,” he cries out.
But you only giggle in response, shoving your hips together as if you were actually riding him. You let out a loud moan, too exaggerated to be true. The constant pressure of your pussy against his crotch makes him arch his back, desperately trying to hold his own whines and grunts to save you the satisfaction of proving you right.
“Look at you! You poor thing,” you exclaim in laughter. “I’m gonna fuck your virgin cock until you pass out.”
Jungkook goes still.
“Oh, thought I didn’t know?” you ask, tilting your head to the side.
“I—”
You bend down and bite on his neck only to soothe the sting with your tongue. “You thought I didn’t know you’ve never been touched before? You’re popular, but women terrify you, don’t they? You see them and only notice their hard nipples through their shirts and their tight pussies peeking from under their short skirts, and that makes you nervous; if they’re nice to you, you’re not interested. If they’re mean, you spend all day imagining them spanking you or sitting on your face… Don’t lie, you’re a sicko who wants a woman to spit in your mouth and fuck your cute little cock. Do you call them mommy in your fantasies? A mean mommy with a fat ass to hump your pathetic dick and huge tits to suck on.”
“S-shut up,” Jungkook cries out. “Shut up, shut up— you have no fucking idea, y-you don’t know shit—”
“I’d show you my tits and you’d come on the spot,” you laugh.
“S-stop lying!”
“Jesus, you’re gonna burst your pants from how hard you’ve got, sweetheart. And I’m nuts? At least I’m not getting hard just because a girl is making fun of me.”
You start bouncing on his crotch, laughing. The constant pressure of your ass against his cock makes him squirm, spilling out an amusing mixture of insults and plaids for mercy. His cheeks are warm with a blush of embarrassment and arousal.
“No wonder no one has ever touched this cute little cock!” you chirp, finally shoving your hand into his pants. “I bet you spend all day locked in your room, watching porn or hentai or whatever losers like you are into. Fucking into your own hand like a bitch in heat. Thank goodness you live alone, because you would live in constant fear of your mom finding your dirty comics or the huge amount of dry jizz all over your plushies and pillows.”
“I— I always clean up after myself,” he whimpers in the sweetest voice possible, and you wonder if he’s actually being honest.
Time to find out. “Yeah? You don’t fuck into your pillow thinking it’s your crush’s wet pussy and leave it full of your cum with the pathetic feeling that you’re filling her up?” you grunt, getting riled up. The thought of Jungkook wanting to do it to someone else makes your blood boil.
“Y-yes!” Jungkook finally cries out. “Shit, shit— I always fuck my pillow thinking it’s you!”
The woman was too stunned to speak.
“Fuck, it— it always leaks out, I’ve always got so much cum saved up for— for you, mommy. I imagine it’s your pussy I’m filling up, want to milk my cock into your cunt until you’re happy.”
The ache between your legs worsens, and you have to rub your thighs together to ease the pent-up arousal; you’re dripping, could simply sit on his pretty cock and ride him until he’s a crying mess – but this has got way out of hand, you need to get the video back on track.
And you shouldn’t think about why he immediately thought of you when you brought up his crush.
You lean on him and spit on his lips, making him yelp. “Yuck.”
“M-mommy, please—”
“Ugh, shut up.”
Raising your hips off him, you take off your panties; indeed, they are ruined and soaked with your juices. Their only use is to gag Jungkook, and there they go, straight into his mouth.
He has to close his eyes when the scent of your arousal reaches his nose.
It takes him a couple of seconds to process that you’re naked now, at least from the waist down. Only your breasts are covered behind the thin white fabric of your tank top. It’s too small, so the sides of your tits stick out, and the neckline is too wide and barely covers your nipples.
Now, his eyes wander down to your pussy; glistening and dripping wet, Jungkook notices the way you rub your thighs together from time to time.
Kneeling over him, you sit on his chest and lift up your shirt, trying not to care that you’re leaving a trail of your juices across his skin. You’re right on top of the camera, and it really looks like Jungkook’s point of view. So, you grab his head and push it between your tits.
“Slow, dummy babies don’t get to suck on mommy’s boobs, darling. Hurry up.”
His eyes locked with yours, Jungkook opens his mouth to suck on your left nipple as you cradle his head. The contact sends shivers down your spine. Still bound to the bed, he struggles to turn his head and reach closer, eager to flicker his tongue around your sensitive nub.
“That’s it, baby, so good,” you groan.
He shifts to your other breast, and you allow him, too hooked on the pleasure to question his intentions.
Jungkook flicks his tongue with eagerness, hunger, almost desperation. His hips buck into the air, and his restrained cock keeps leaking precum, a wet patch appearing on the fabric. He sucks on your nipple like his life depends on it, unhinging his jaw to reach what he can’t touch.
Shit.
You’ve gone off script enough as it is.
You push him away, and he whimpers. “Well done, sweetheart,” you groan, “but mommy has other plans for you.”
Taking off your shirt, you’re now fully naked on top of him. Jungkook’s eyes roam around your figure and drink it up the sight of your bare body on top of him like it is water and he’s dying of thirst.
It’s time for the good shots, so you turn around so that your dripping folds are right in front of the camara – and right on top of his face, but that’s just a little gift for you. You’re facing his crotch, and with eager hands, you pull down his pants and underwear at the same time, letting his big, red, leaking cock spring up against his stomach. It’s the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, and your mouth waters just at the thought.
Meanwhile, Jungkook has been struggling with the tempting sigh of your pussy right above his head. It tickles his tongue, makes his lips twitch; he can only think about ravishing your cunt like a madman.
It’s practically instinctive when his neck is stretched upwards. You said you were okay with oral. In fact, you enjoyed it. The script is just something to guide you as to the plot; the rest, it can go as it comes up. That torture you promised him wasn’t scripted either, but it’s made his cock hard as if he was in heat. And, if you don’t like it, you can use the safeword too.
Just a bit more while you keep playing with his cock in your hands.
His tongue is already out, like a dog. That’s pretty much what he feels like right now, desperate to fuck your pussy with his mouth.
Shit, you’re dripping.
“I wonder if you can get even harder,” he hears you ramble.
As you get comfortable on top of him, your hips are getting closer to his reach. Your ankles rest under his forearms, you didn’t notice he could lick you for at least a few seconds.
Jungkook doesn’t stop to think and delves his tongue into your pussy, proceeding quickly to suck and lap at your clit. Your juices soak his face, but that only makes his erection grow. Your clit reacts instantly, throbbing between his lips.
“What the— s-shit, Jungkook, what are you—” you manage to moan.
Your first instinct is to push your legs away, but Jungkook is pressing down with his forearms and, by the time you think of moving your hips away, you’re already melting with pleasure. His tongue is quick to lick your clit over and over, relentlessly, as you thrust back. Using his forearms again, he pulls you by your legs so that you’re practically sitting on his face, bent over him, grunting his name.
Saliva runs down his chin. Your taste on his tongue has shoved him into a thoughtless state, he’s only thinking about making you come. His tongue parts your lips and fucks into your entrance with wet, sloppy strokes.
Jungkook lets out a whimper. “Fuck, as good as I thought it’d be,” he cries out, his voice muffled by your folds. “Mummy got dripping just from playing with me, so fucking m-mean—”
You arch your back and thrust back against his tongue, feeling the tension in the pit of your stomach.
He’s got your ankles well locked, and you’re still torn between control and pleasure, so you simply squirm on top of him while Jungkook keeps ravishing your pussy now that you can’t close your legs – nor do you really want to.
But shit, he’s going to make you come if he keeps this up. And, if you do, the deal is off, and the video is over. You’d love to squirt all over his face and force him to drink it up, but you’ve got other plans for him and for you so, as much as you’re loving getting tongue-fucked by this bratty little shit, it’s time to stop him.
“My baby really wanted to lick mummy’s pussy, didn’t he?” you blurt out with a laugh, and his cock twitches, a drop of precum rolling down from his tip.
“W-what?”
“How was your first cunt, sweetheart?” you continue. “Better than your hand, huh? Better than the sad, pathetic hole you make in your stuffed animals to stick your dick in and think it’s me.”
A tear of embarrassment rolls down his cheek. “T-that’s not—”
“Let me return the favour.”
While Jungkook, in a desperate attempt to make you cum, keeps licking and sucking your pussy, you keep yourself decently composed and let a trickle of saliva drip onto his tip. Before he can say anything else, you’re engulfing his cock until your nose is pressed against his pubic bone.
“F-fuck!”
You try to fight a wicked smile with his cock around your lips.
Jungkook’s hips twitch, but that only makes the tip of his cock bump into your throat, ripping a sob from him.
You start bobbing your head up and down; he pulls at his restraints, his head turning to his sides as two thick tears of pleasure roll down his cheeks. Guess this probably is his first time being deep-throated, so better ruin it for everybody coming after.
Fortunately, his bratty tongue is too busy crying and moaning to pay any attention to your pussy, so you sit on his chest and get momentum.
His cock feels hot in your mouth, leaking precum. It’s salty as it mixes with your own saliva running down his shaft. Jungkook is sweating all over, his head spinning like he’s having a fever; after all, the wet heat of your mouth around his cock is too much to handle. It’s coated in your spit, sending waves of pleasure down his spine, making his toes curl, his throat sore from grunting and sobbing. You hollow your cheeks and swallow around him, the vibrations of your moans only worsening the pleasure pooling in his lower back.
“Fuck!” he cries out again. “Of fuck, p-please—!” Jungkook can’t even properly thrash with his feet as they’re tied to the bed as well. “So good, so fucking good!”
You pull the foreskin back to expose the head and dip your tongue into the slit, savouring the taste of his arousal. For a second, you wonder if he’s never really got proper head or if he’s just very sensitive, but you shove the thought to the back of your head and keep going.
“Got anything to say about that misbehaviour from earlier?” you ask, licking down to the base.
“Dunno—”
“Ah, yes, you do.” Your voice comes out soft, too soft. It sends chills down his back. “You grabbed mommy’s ass and ate her pussy without permission, remember?”
Leaning on his thighs, you manage to turn around to face him. You notice his red face and dilated pupils, and he notices your slick, swollen lips.
To your surprise, Jungkook smirks. “But mommy loved it, didn’t she? I almost made her cum—”
You shut him up by swallowing down his cock again, even if he is right; only a couple of minutes more and you would have come all over his face. But you haven’t, and that’s all that matters. Now you have to make him cum so that you can start torturing his spent cock until he’s crying for you to stop.
Jungkook may be used to keeping it down at his shared flat and know how to be quiet, but you can always tell when a guy is close, and you’re surprised at how much he’s been holding it. From how swollen and purplish his cock looks, how much he’s leaking, and the way it reacts, throbbing and twitching at your touch, he must have been on edge for a while.
“Are you a masochist, perhaps?” you ask, rather to yourself.
Your hands find his base again and start pumping him, both of them. The contact feels kind of dry, though, despite his arousal dripping through your fingers, so you bend down and spit on the head again.
“I wouldn’t be surprised, really,” you continue, jerking him off like it’s just one more chore. “A crazy chick ties you to the bed to fuck you and the first thing you do is get a hard-on. No wonder only your plushies are willing to let you hit it— though they can’t really say anything, can they?”
With a shaky gasp, Jungkook bites his lip and closes his eyes; he needs to stop either seeing or hearing you if he wants to hold on any longer, but your breasts are right in front of him, covered in a glistening layer of sweat, your erect nipples that he just had in his mouth, your pussy radiating heat and dripping down your inner thighs. If only you would sit on his cock and ride him until you cum and scream with pleasure, choke him, spit in his mouth, use him like he uses his poor childhood stuffed animals.
Then this torture would be over, he would climax inside you and stuff you with his cum, til it’s dripping. And the next torture would begin.
“Come on, the last test. If you pass it without cumming, I’ll let you go, okay, sweetheart?”
Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts; suddenly, you’re straddling his lap, the tip of his cock brushing against your folds. The brief pleasure, more like a feeling-induced fantasy turned into a touch, makes him shudder and take a deep breath.
“This” – you yank off his shirt, buttons popping out – “off.”
Raking your nails through his hair, you yank it and force him to look at you in silence. His chest heaves and falls as he stares into your eyes.
Your thumb strokes his bottom lip. “It’s a pity that such a pretty face belongs to a pervert like you.”
“I’m not a pervert!”
“Yadda, yadda,” you mock him, tilting up his chin to get access to his jaw and bite him. “Whatever, I have no interest in your pathetic excuses – if you weren’t a pervert, you wouldn’t be hard right now.”
“I-it’s a biological response!” Jungkook insists.
“Hm, yeah, sure. Then you won’t mind if I don’t fuck you, right—? What’s more, you’ll be glad.”
To add weight to your words – and torture him a little in the process – you start moving your hips up and down against his cock, rubbing him with your folds. He twitches between your inner thighs, and you keep circling and undulating your hips over his tip, every now and then pretending you’re going to finally sit on him. His head penetrates you for a second, and you fuck yourself on it, one, two, three thrusts until you decide to press your ass against it.
“Just imagine if I let you fuck my ass,” you laugh. “Just think about it, sweetheart.”
“It’d be s-so tight,” he blurts out, “around my cock! Shit, I wish I could— I wish I could eat your ass, and then your pussy, and then fuck you open with my cock—”
“Fuck—”
You find yourself grinding on his swollen tip, rubbing your clit against his sensitive skin, too turned on by his words; yeah, you’d like him to eat your ass as well. Jungkook is trying to muffle the whimpers coming through his lips, but the pressure is getting heavier.
Moving in a quick thrust, you sit down on his cock. He works you open as it disappears into your body, a moan leaving your lips. Your fingers dig into his shoulders for leverage, hips setting a pace as you bounce on his cock. It massages your inner walls, with sounds of smacking flesh, working thigh muscles as you melt at the shocking waves of pleasure.
“Ngh—” Jungkook lets out a whimper and pulls at the restraints. “Fuck! Oh, fuck—”
Your skin prickles, your clit rubbing against his pubic bone. It’s dripping, the ache between your thighs expanding while you chase your climax.
Jungkook pants, head bumping against the headboard, victim to the rolls and thrusts of your hips. Your tits are bouncing right in front of him, their round shape and hardened nipples so, so tempting, making his mouth water while his cock throbs and twitches between your walls. You clench around him, and he whines again. His nerves feel on fire, and the sight of your bare figure fucking yourself on his cock only worsens it.
Your hand slithers to pinch one of your nipples. Playing with it, arching your back, you let out a huff and roll your hips in undulating waves, cunt engulfing him over and over and soiling it with your juices.
You feel his tip bumping against your sweet spot when Jungkook suddenly cries; two thick tears roll down his cheeks, and you bend over to kiss them clean.
“Slow, s-slower, please, go—” he sobs, face red. “Shit! I’m— fucking hell, go slow! G-go slow!”
As he pulls at the restraints in pure desperation, his hips buck into you, jerking and trembling like he’s got no control over them. Jungkook is begging you to slow down, but the blazing way he’s fucking up into you, trying to reach your breasts and suck on your nipples again, wanting to get rid of the restraints so that he can grab your ass and pound into your dripping pussy only fuels him.
“Shut up, little bitch,” you grunt.
Before he can say anything else, you shove your nipple into his mouth and hover over him, your core aching at the wet pressure of his tongue around your hardened buds. You pull at his hair, and his eyes suddenly roll back.
He grows harder inside of you. “Oh fuck, oh, n-no, fuck, stop!” he cries out. “Shit, stop! Slow, slow down—!”
Only when you feel him going still on the mattress and the sweet feeling of hot cum filling you up do you understand he just came inside you.
You keep bouncing on his cock, and Jungkook’s seed eventually gets pumped out of your insides by his own cock. It leaks down your inner thighs and pools on his lower stomach, but you only lean onto him to bite on his neck while he sobs at the painful yet glorious feeling of your pussy milking every last drop of his yummy cum.
“Oh, baby,” you coo with amusement, scratching down his chest, “you just made this so much easier.”
Overstimulation kicks in when you resume bouncing on his spent cock, careful not to let him slide out of your cunt; Jungkook sobs and grunts as he writhes on the bed, pulling the restraints.
You grab his chin and spit into his mouth before you kiss him hard. Your teeth leave small bites on his lips and chin, peppering short kisses to swallow his sobs, embracing him to restrict his squirms. He’s crying so prettily into your lips, you want to eat him up.
“Please, p-please—! Hurts!”
Sucking the flesh of his neck, you let the red mark blossom. “A deal is a deal, sweetheart.”
Deal or no deal, you ride him chasing your climax, sweating and melting into him. Your clit rubs against his pubic bone, and the coiling tension in the pit of your stomach tightens. Jungkook writhes beneath you, and his toes curl in a poor attempt to let out a little of the pleasure that pushes him towards another orgasm. The sight of his cum dripping down your legs mesmerises him, your pussy engulfing his cock over and over again.
Fuck, you look so hot right now; he’s going to explode in a heart-shaped puddle of pleasure, he can’t stop the tears either. It’s torture, the best kind, how you’re touching him, stroking his skin, licking down his lips to his sweaty chest, playing with his hair. There’s almost a certain sense of affection in the ways of your hands.
“Please,” Jungkook cries out.
“Fuck,” you moan, closing your eyes. “Baby, you’re gonna make me come~“
Your words make his heart stop for a second. They fuel a fire in his abdomen and raise goosebumps all over his skin, and Jungkook sucks in a sharp breath as the pain starts to mix with the tortuous pleasure.
You keep bouncing on him, ass striking against his hips at a brutal pace. “God! Shit, shit, baby, I’m gonna cum, fuck!”
“Please!” he begs.
The ache between your thighs makes your core tighten, your muscles burn, your sweat is boiling on your skin, dripping down between your breasts.
With one last powerful thrust, the tension snaps, and suddenly you’re bursting out in an explosive orgasm, squirting all over him. You scream out, squishing his cock with your dripping walls, moaning his name and burying your nails in his chest. The shockwaves grip your body, and you ride out your orgasm with slower rolls of your hips.
“Fuck, baby,” you let out in a weak breath, “you made me spill myself all over you.”
When you finally peel your eyes open, you notice Jungkook staring down at the pool of fluid on his lower stomach. His pupils are so dilated that they merge with his irises. You can feel his cock twitching inside you, and his hips are bucking into you subconsciously.
“M-mommy—”
You’re too exhausted to be careful not to drop on top of him and leave a feverish trail of kisses down his neck, holding his face and brushing your lips together, swirling your tongue around his.
“Mommy,” he calls again.
“Yeah…?”
“I’m—” Jungkook lets out a whimper when you shove your hand between his legs. “I’m c-close.”
“Again?” you ask with a hint of mockery in your voice.
He pouts and closes his lips in embarrassment, but the way his cock throbs and twitches as you circle the tip of your index finger on his cock feels too good to stifle his noises. You have such cute hands; he’d die just to see them covered in his cum.
You move down his body in a trail of kisses and nibbles, enjoying the smell of his skin, so warm and intense. The room smells of sex, and it turns you on so much that your mouth salivates.
“Let me take care of you.”
Scooting between his legs, you stroke up and down his Apollo’s belt as he arches his back into the touch, desperate to come. His cock pressed against his tummy, you grab it and spit on it right before dipping your tongue into the slit. Jungkook pants in surprise and squirms and, making eye contact, you part your lips around his cock and swallow around it.
Jungkook whines and tries his best to hold his hips still, but the feeling of being engulfed in your wet heat only engorges the tension in the pit of his stomach. Don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum, not yet, he chants in his head.
Sucking and bobbing your head on his cock, you enjoy how he responds to your touch; Jungkook is burning all over, writhing, twitching between your lips at the suction.
“Fuck,” he gasps, “y-your mouth—”
You don’t bother to reply and simply hum around his cock, and the vibrations send shivers of pleasure down his spine. His eyes stare at your lips, darkened and wet with saliva so, using hands and lips together, you start sucking his tip with sloppy strokes of your tongue and suction from your lips as your hands play with his balls. Jungkook lets out a breath moan, increasingly agitated and desperate.
Then you slide him out of your mouth, and he stares at you a bit confused – until he sees the way you just hover over him with your mouth wide open above his tip and gets it. Shyly, Jungkook bucks his hips into your wet heat, letting out a muffled moan.
“You— you can’t be for real—” he whines.
You tilt your head in silence, waiting for him to shove his cock into your mouth again.
He starts fucking your mouth with desperate thrusts, hitting the back of your throat. Tears make his vision blurry, and a wave of heat spreads under his skin. He’s half ashamed, half turned on just at the very thought of him having to fuck your face to cum while you stay there, hovering over him with your mouth open. The grip of your tongue around his cock is heavy and wet, you’re so mean to him, just letting him jerk his hips like a bitch in heat.
“I’m gonna— fuck!” Jungkook lets out a grunt and a desperate gasp, fighting the restraints and fleeing your mouth; but you grab his ass again and bury his cock into your mouth until your nose is pressed against his pubic bone, and you hollow your cheeks, fucking him between your lips. “C-coming! Slow, s-slow down, I’m— oh fuck, please!” he sobs.
His hips stutter, and suddenly he’s spilling himself into your mouth, dissolving into pleasure with a choked sob and your name on his lips. It’s bitter, but Jungkook’s contracted face, with two thick tears soaking down to the corners of his lips, and red cheeks makes it all worthwhile.
You help him ride out his climax with your hand wrapped around his cum-stained cock, but soon Jungkook is writhing beneath you and bursting out in tears of actual pain, and you let go of him.
Lying eye to eye, he watches you lean onto him and open up your mouth; a pool of cum rests on your tongue, and he doesn’t hesitate to open his mouth and lets you kiss it back into the source system, massaging your tongues together and rolling them over each other. A drop of white cum rolls down the corner of his mouth, but you’re both too busy making out naked on top of each other to care about it.
“We’re gonna have so much fun tonight, sweetheart,” you whisper.
After a pause, you get up and reach the camera to turn it off; suddenly Jungkook snaps out of something like a dream, and he remembers that you’re actually working. A feeling of shame and sadness washes over him, and he's so exhausted both mentally and physically that he feels the urge to cry.
“Okay, I turned it off.” You rush to undo the restraints on his wrists and massage the red marks with your thumbs to get the blood circulating again. “Does it hurt? I’ll get you something for the marks.”
In a thoughtful silence, he shakes his head.
“Good.”
You turn around and lean on his legs to undo the knots of his ankles as well, and Jungkook closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. His heart is still trying to burst his ribcage open and get out of his chest, and now that the frenzy of the video is over, a dread falls over him; what is he going to do about you now?
“Uh, Y/N?” he asks, unsure.
Smiling, you look up at him with the rope in your hands. “Yes?”
Courage.
“Can I… take you out to dinner some day?”
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“Don’t laugh!” you exclaim, laughing. With a napkin, you wipe away the milkshake foam that stains your chin and the corners of your lips. “It’s not funny, you should have told me earlier. I’m sure everyone has noticed.”
The terrace where you are sitting is practically deserted except for a few tourists and a couple of birds circling over your food. With the sun shining brightly above you, you prop yourself up on your elbows as your tummy aches from laughing so hard, and Jungkook glances at the menu with a growing smile.
“I didn’t know you cared so much about the opinion of three people and seven birds,” he jokes.
“Hey, it’s eight birds, sweetheart. And the tourists are carrying a camera,” you insist, grabbing the menu from him with a playful frown, “what if I come out in the background looking like Father Christmas? I’d never get over it.”
“Then Father Christmas had a glow-up – when he was a kid, he’d just eat the biscuits and leave. Anyway, should we order to share or is it every man for himself?”
“We’d better share, I want to try it all,” you murmur as you take a sip from your drink.
Jungkook frowns. “You’ll get a tummy ache like last time.”
“You don’t have to remind me!” With a giggle, he takes the menu again. “It was so embarrassing, on our first date on top of that.”
He scoops to the other side of the table and steals a kiss from you, letting you cup his face and deepen the contact. “Okay, just order anything you want,” he says, sliding the menu back to you. “I’ll eat what you can’t fit in your tummy.”
You thank him with a short peck on the lips, and Jungkook returns to his seat.
“Oh, by the way,” you say casually, stirring your milkshake with your straw, “I have some good news and some bad news, which one do you want first?”
He frowns. “Well... The bad one, I guess?”
“The bad news is that I can’t use the video we made because you can hear us saying each other’s names. The good news is that it means we can make it again.”
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“Sideshow” is copyright ²⁰²³ Lola Bangtan, all rights reserved.
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eiightysixbaby · 9 months
Text
afterglow
part 2 to cruel summer
tell me that i’m all you want, even when i break your heart
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word count: 10.2k
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: you navigate the aftermath of your confession to eddie, but forgetting him is harder than you thought. it’s up to him to make things right.
cw: 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI. angst, use of y/n, eddie and reader being lovesick for each other, tooth rotting fluff, use of pet names, unprotected p in v, oral f receiving
author’s note: i am so, SO beyond excited to share this finally! thank y’all so much for the love on cruel summer, i hope you all enjoy part 2 just as much. this is inspired by afterglow by miss taylor swift, so go listen to that if you haven’t! okay smooches love u all hope u enjoy
part one
It had only been a few days since you confessed your love to Eddie and he left you without a word, but it felt like it had been years. Every minute crawling by, the hole in your heart seeming to grow rather than get any smaller. Your mind was ping-ponging back and forth between being furious with Eddie, and missing him and yearning for his touch. In all honesty, you mostly felt horrible for the way you yelled at him. Sure, he wasn’t being considerate of your feelings and he was being a bit of an asshole, but how was he supposed to know you loved him? You don’t even know if you knew you did until you were screaming it in his face. It’s not right what Eddie did, making you feel special and then turning around and flirting with other girls in front of you, but it’s not right for you to get mad at him for not being exclusive with you when the two of you were only supposed to be fuck buddies, and you weren’t supposed to have feelings for him. The guilt was eating away at you, and now that you’d gone and blindsided him with the confession of your feelings, you knew you couldn’t fix things. He clearly didn’t feel the same way, and he clearly didn’t want to rectify the situation at hand. But there were also moments where the guilt would subside and you were filled with pure rage, wanting to hurt him the way he’d hurt you. To say you were conflicted was an understatement.
In actuality, Eddie was doing no better than you were. He’d barely slept since the night he left your place, the bags under his eyes growing increasingly dark and his mood constantly agitated. You loved him. How could that be? Had he really been that fucking blind? Admittedly, Eddie’s never been great with the whole “feelings” thing. Screwing around with a different girl every week was fun for him because no deeper feelings were involved. It allowed him to get those brief dopamine rushes without the room to get attached to someone, just for them to end up leaving him when they really got to know him. But it was always different with you, from the moment the first line was blurred and you crossed into uncharted territory with each other, it was different. This had unnerved Eddie initially, the way everything felt softer with you, more intimate. He couldn’t let himself fall for you, and so he kept you at arm’s length - or tried to, anyways. He’d continue to flirt with other girls, to sleep with other girls in hopes that it would keep his mind off of you. He needed to keep himself in the routine of bouncing around so that his brain wasn’t hyper fixated on you. Your mutual agreement to have a little friends-with-benefits situation surely meant that you didn’t feel anything more for him, right? He couldn’t be the one that fell head over heels for you, just for you to leave him in the dust.
He should have fucking known you’d never do that to him. And now here he was, the asshole that hurt you probably beyond repair. All because he couldn’t work out his feelings, couldn’t face you in the event that you rejected him. He scoffs at himself, because look at how he handled things, leaving your apartment without so much as a word after you confessed your fucking love to him. Eddie groans, flopping face first into his pillows, letting out a long exasperated sigh. The moment you said you loved him he’d wanted to say it back without an ounce of hesitation, and honestly, that terrified him to his core. He’s never loved someone like that, it’s different than the love he holds for his friends or Wayne, or that old trailer park cat he’d befriended as a child . The love he felt for you was all-consuming in a new way, and it made him sick to his stomach with unease. He’s startled by a knock rattling the trailer, and he heaves himself off his bed with a huff. A frown is etched onto his face, his hair a wild mess as he opens the rickety door to the trailer. There on his front step is Nancy and Jonathan. Oh fuck.
“-And so, we just kind of want to know a little bit about what happened, on your end? She didn’t really give us a whole lot to go off of other than you flirting with the bartender…” Nancy winces as she says the last part, noticing the way Eddie visibly twitches at her words.
“I wasn’t flirting with the bartender,” Eddie says through gritted teeth, trying to keep his cool. “I didn’t want to start anything so I just… let her flirt with me. But I wasn’t interested! I just wanted one more drink,” he mumbles, his head throbbing with stress and lack of sleep.
Nancy and Jonathan had come over to your place the day after the incident with Eddie, gently trying to coax some information out of you. You’d revealed that the two of you had had a few drinks and some bar food, danced a little bit, and then hooked up in the bathroom - sparing them the gory details of course. Then you told them you caught him flirting with a couple women at the bar after you’d left him to talk to Chrissy briefly. You intentionally left out the part where you, you know, professed your undying love for him in the middle of the night standing in the doorway to your apartment. You didn’t need anyone knowing that you said those three big words when he didn’t even reciprocate them, the thought of telling your friends far too embarrassing.
Nancy, being Nancy, felt like there was something you weren’t telling her, or at least wanted to hear the story from Eddie’s perspective, hoping to get some more info so that she could better understand how to be there for you. She gave it a few days, knowing Eddie wouldn’t like to be cornered right after the incident, and that’s how her and Jonathan found themselves on the couch in his small living room currently.
Eddie was also in no way planning on telling them about how you’d told him you loved him, and he’d walked away like a big fucking idiot. Although his friends meant well, and wanted to help, he didn’t need any extra inquiring minds knowing about this. He needed to focus on figuring out how to fix things with you before anyone else found out that the big ‘L’ word was involved.
“Eddie, please just be honest with us-”
“I am being fucking honest!” Eddie snaps, catching his friends off guard. “I swear, on my fucking life, I was not flirting with those women at the bar. I just didn’t have the energy to start an argument or something,” the expression on Eddie’s face is growing desperate as he talks. “I should’ve just walked away, I know, but I didn’t. But I swear I was not flirting with them. For once, I wasn’t trying to be an asshole.”
Jonathan gives Nancy a look, and she nods in understanding.
“We believe you, Eddie. Thank you for explaining,” she says softly, trying to meet his eyes.
Eddie doesn’t look at her, can’t bring himself to when he’s hiding the worst part of this whole thing from her.
“Is there… anything else that you need to tell us?” Jonathan asks, careful so as not to sound accusatory.
“No. After she thought she caught me flirting, that must’ve been when she called you guys. There’s nothing else to say that she didn’t already tell you.” Eddie sighs, his voice defeated.
They could tell their presence was no longer wanted in Eddie’s home, and so they made their exit.
“Thanks for talking to us, Eddie. We’re here if you need anything,” Nancy says as she closes the door behind her.
Nancy originally intended on ripping Eddie a new one when he admitted to flirting with the bartender a few days ago, but now she knows that’s clearly not the truth. It was all a misunderstanding, at least this time around. But the hurt behind Eddie’s eyes, the pain in his voice has her thoughts jumbled. Something deeper has to be going on, she just doesn’t know what.
“So, do you think we should tell Y/N that him flirting with the ladies at the bar was a misunderstanding?” Jonathan asks, breaking the silence in the car.
“I feel like she deserves to know. Not that it’ll change anything necessarily, it doesn’t have to, but she deserves to be free of that pain at least,” Nancy nods as if assuring herself, before taking the car in the direction of your place.
The rapping at your door breaks you out of your daze as you sit on your sofa watching Friends reruns. You debate even answering it, before deciding that you can’t wallow all alone 24/7. You open your door to reveal Nancy and Jonathan, inviting them in but grimacing at the disastrous state of your living room. They don’t even pay any mind to it, Jonathan sitting on the arm of the couch as Nancy stands in front of you.
“So, we just talked to Eddie,” she says, her eyes searching yours.
You swallow, hard. Did he tell them what you said? Do they know you love him?
“Oh? W-what did he say?” you ask, your voice coming out more shaky than you would’ve liked.
“He told us that he was never flirting with the bartender and the other girl. Insisted on it, actually. He said he just wanted one more drink while he waited for you, and didn’t feel like starting anything by turning them down,” she says gently. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad for him or anything, I just figured you deserve to have that weight off of your shoulders.”
You stay silent for a moment, taking in what she’s saying. Clearly Eddie was convincing when he told her all of this, because Nancy wouldn’t believe just anything. He wasn’t flirting with them, it was all a misunderstanding. You flipped out on him for nothing.
“Thank you for telling me,” you say finally. “Did he say anything else?”
“No, his story was no different than yours otherwise.”
You nod, standing in silence because you can’t think of a damn thing to say.
“We’re gonna get going, but I just wanted to give you that update,” Nancy says, sensing the awkwardness.
You thank them again and hug them both before shutting the door behind them. You sink back into the soft cushions of your couch, staring blankly at the TV screen. The whole reason you’d even admitted to Eddie that you loved him was because you blew up on him, you couldn’t take it anymore, the image of the bartender all over him bringing you to your breaking point. It was all a misunderstanding, and you spilled your guts to him because of it. Things could still be the way they were if you’d never opened your damn mouth. Clearly, Eddie doesn’t love you back. He hasn’t reached out to you in three days. There’s no way you can go back on your words now, and you’re confident you ruined everything with the only guy you want. It should make you sick, still, the fact that he left you and couldn’t even give you a response. You should be furious with him, you should be cursing his name at the sky, but all you can do is feel guilty for putting him in jail for something he never did. You lay down, letting out a scream into one of your fluffy throw pillows. If you had any tears left to cry, they’d surely be flowing now, but instead you just lie there, zoning out completely. The only thing left to do was try and get over Eddie Munson.
Almost two whole weeks since he last saw you and Eddie had been wallowing pathetically the whole time, making little to no improvements since Nancy and Jonathan’s visit to his home. He shouldn’t have gotten so defensive with you when you accused him of flirting with the ladies at the bar - how could he blame you for thinking that? It’s not like he was particularly loyal to you or considerate of your feelings any other time. Basically, he was throwing himself a gigantic pity party, and Steve had decided he’d had enough of his friend’s antics.
He found out a little about what had happened through Robin, who found out through Nancy. Word travels fast in the friend group, needless to say. Steve came to Eddie’s trailer, for the third time that week, still finding him withering away in bed and looking like a kicked puppy. Steve, from what he understood of the situation, couldn’t figure out why Eddie was so distraught. You’d finally gotten tired of his sleeping around, and you’d kicked him to the curb. If anything, you deserved to be upset because you clearly had some deeper feelings for Eddie. Eddie on the other hand? He was the asshole, always, what right did he have to be upset now?
“Ed, seriously man, you’ve gotta cut this out. What good is it gonna do for you if you let yourself shrivel up and die in your bed?” Steve had tried to be gentle the first time he came to see Eddie, but by now he was frustrated.
Eddie just groans, grabbing his pillow and covering his face with it. Steve rolls his eyes, marching over to the bed and snatching the pillow from him, like a parent snatching an item from a child.
“You’ve gotta talk to me, dude. What is going on here? You acted like an ass to Y/N half the time, no offense, and now you’re upset? I just don’t buy it, man.”
Eddie scoffs and gets up, pushing past Steve and heading into the kitchen to get himself a cup of coffee. Steve follows directly behind him, hands on his hips as he corners Eddie in the kitchen. The older man glances over at his friend, acting completely disinterested as he fills his Garfield mug with the black liquid.
“You’re being impossible. I want to help you, and you won’t even talk to me. If you want to be depressed as shit forever, then fine! Be my guest,” Steve says, like it’s final, like he’s done trying.
Eddie knows him better than that. He pushes past Steve yet again, plopping himself down on the couch and taking an obnoxiously loud sip of his coffee. Steve’s fuming, watching in disbelief as Eddie goes along like he isn’t even there.
“You know, I can see why Y/N got sick of you.”
This gets a rise out of Eddie. He brings the mug away from his lips slowly, his breath catching in his throat.
“Yeah, I mean seriously, if you’re this stubborn all the time then it’s no wonder she got tired of you…” Steve goes on, knowing exactly what he’s doing.
Eddie grips his mug tightly, certain it’d shatter if he held it any harder. He grits his teeth, breathing hard out his nose.
“You just couldn’t keep it in your pants, had to flirt with that damn bartender…”
“I DIDNT. FLIRT. with the FUCKING. BARTENDER.” Eddie is seething now, about ready to jump across the room and grab Steve by the collar of his shirt. He’s at his breaking point now, letting everything spill out of him. “You wanna know what’s going on? You really have to know? She fucking loves me, man. She told me she loves me, okay? And - and - and… that fucking terrified me, okay? So I left her apartment. I didn’t say a word and I fucking left,” Eddie’s trembling now, the brunt of his anger giving way to sheer anguish.
Steve goes quiet, his eyes widening. He opens and closes his mouth, scrambling to find words.
“Eddie, you just left her?” Steve asks, really not trying to rub salt in the wound, but what the fuck.
“I really don’t need you to lecture me on how wrong that was-”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That’s not what I’m trying to do. I just-” Steve pauses, looking at his disheveled friend where he sits on the couch. “Do you love her?”
Eddie is silent for a minute, his hands clasped together and brought up to his mouth, elbows resting on his knees.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think I do,” his voice is noticeably shaky, and for the first time since Steve got here, Eddie’s sad brown eyes meet his.
Steve comes to sit down next to Eddie, the couch cushions dipping with his weight.
“I think you need to tell her, man.”
“How? How do I even start? She thinks I ditched her at The Hideaway to flirt with other women, she probably thinks I fucking hate her considering I left without a word after she-”
Steve puts a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, calming him down from the way his body has started to shake. Eddie looks at him, eyes glassy and confused.
“This is Y/N we’re talking about. I don’t think she could ever hate you. You need to tell her how you feel, Eddie.”
Eddie knows he’s right. Deep down, he knows. But facing you and admitting his feelings is the scariest part. He doesn’t like to be vulnerable, doesn’t like the way it feels to put himself so fully out there, and he honestly envies you for being able to spit the words at him so easily. Eddie has to tell you, he just needs to figure out how.
You stood in front of the mirror in your bedroom, holding up different outfits as you debated which you liked the best. Robin and Nancy scrunched their noses at one particular dress you held up.
“Too many ruffles,” Nancy blurts.
“You’d look kind of like a babydoll…” Robin muses, tilting her head as she looks at the short blue garment.
You groan, throwing all the hangers of clothes onto your floor.
“Guys, I have to wear something tonight and we’ve gone through, like, half of my wardrobe!” you hold your hands out at your sides, your voice incredibly whiny as you plead with your friends.
“Okay, okay, let me take a look,” Nancy says, getting up and searching through your ransacked closet.
You were going on a date tonight. Nancy had eventually squeezed the confession out of you that you loved Eddie, but you still hadn’t informed her that you actually told him that and that he left. It had now been two weeks since you’d spoken to Eddie and she kept telling you you needed to actively try and forget him. Because, big surprise, sitting alone in your apartment all day eating pints of ice cream clearly wasn’t helping - much to your dismay. So she took it upon herself to help and set you up on a date with a friend of Jonathan’s.
According to his Instagram profile, he was cute, and he seemed like a nice guy based on everything Nancy told you. He went by Argyle, which, a little weird, but hey - you just told your fuck buddy you loved him and he walked out so… you’re not really in a position to judge anyone for anything.
“Ooh! What about this?” Nancy holds up a hanger with a tight black faux-leather skirt and another with a shimmery silver top.
“Nance - they’re going to get ice cream, not to a strip club,” Robin chides, laying on your bed and flipping through a magazine.
“Okay, fine, but I’m borrowing this skirt,” she says, meeting your eyes to get your approval.
You roll your eyes, scrutinizing one strand of hair that won’t do what you want it to do as Nancy continues looking through your clothes.
“Okay! I’ve got it. This is casual, but not so casual that it says you don’t care,” she eyes her selections as she waits for you and Robin to weigh in.
She’s holding a pair of light wash denim shorts, embroidered with little daisies, and a baby pink top with ruched sleeves.
Robin bites her lip excitedly, nodding eagerly at you.
“Not my taste, but totally, absolutely, one hundred perfect for you. Put it on, put it on!” she urges.
You laugh, obliging and changing into the clothes Nancy picked. She has a good eye, you had to admit. The outfit was perfect, cute and expressed that you’d put effort into your appearance, but not overdoing it. As you look at yourself in your mirror, you can’t help but picture Eddie’s face if he saw you in that outfit. His arm snaking around your waist to pull you close. Your fingers trail down to the hem of the shorts, toying with a loose string.
“Hey, earth to Y/N?” Robin waves her hand, snagging your attention. “You still with us? Argyle’s definitely gonna need you alive for the date tonight,” she says lightheartedly, giving you a lopsided smile.
Your lips had fallen into an involuntary frown, and of course the girls catch it immediately.
“Don’t think about him, hun,” Nancy places a hand on your arm, giving you a gentle squeeze. “Argyle’s a great guy, and you’re gonna have fun tonight!”
“Yeah, no you’re right. I’m sorry. I want to give him a chance, I’m excited,” you smile, trying your best to shove the curly brunette metal head out of your mind.
It’s not that you weren’t excited for the date, you really were. Maybe a change of scenery and a new person were exactly the things you needed. But you still felt horrible about setting everything on fire with Eddie, leaving you to sift through the ashes now that the damage was done. And you still love him. The thought wafts through your mind like a bad stench through your nose, and you shake your head as if to rid your brain of it. Screw Eddie, you try and tell yourself. Who needs him anyway?
Just as Nancy finishes applying a healthy amount of makeup to your face, there’s a knock at your door. Like an absolute gentleman, Argyle arrives right on time. You feel wings erupt in your stomach, birds taking flight as your nerves kick in.
Robin notices you go rigid in her gaze.
“You’re gonna be fine. You’re gonna have a great time, you got this, kid,” she beams at you, giving you an affirming nod.
You try your best to give a confident smile back, nodding once in confirmation that you do, in fact, have this. The girls shuffle you out of your room and towards the door, practically shoving you to go answer it. Your straighten yourself, taking one last deep breath before swinging the door open.
“Well, good evening, ladies,” Argyle says, flashing his shiny white teeth as he smiles at you and your friends who stand modestly behind you.
“You must be Y/N. I’m Argyle, it’s so nice to meet you,” he keeps the smile on his face, reaching a hand out to shake yours.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, too,” you smile back, taking his hand firmly as you shake it.
“Mind if I steal her away, girls?” he jokes, directing the question at Robin and Nancy.
“Nope! Not at allllllll,” Robin draws out the last syllable, giving you a flirtatious wave.
“She’s all yours! Have fun you two,” Nancy smiles.
They give you a thumbs up when you take one last glance over your shoulder, Argyle leading the way out the door. And so it begins.
Tonight is the night. Tonight is the night Eddie is going to fix shit with you, or at least give an honest attempt. The thought of going through with his plan made him want to genuinely hurl, but he swallowed the bile that rose to his throat and was determined to right this wrong. After letting the truth spill to Steve, the only thing consuming his thoughts has been telling you about how he feels. The entirety of the past night was spent tossing and turning in his bed, fleeting dreams of you rejecting him flashing through his subconscious. His plan, as it currently stands, is as follows: he’s going to swing by the flower shop to get you a beautiful bouquet, and then head over to the local ice cream place to get you your favorite milkshake. Then he plans to show up at your door with his offerings, and apologize profusely. Like, he’s talking begging-on-his-knees, praying to the gods above, apologize. He stomach lurches as he mentally walks through the plan again, getting himself looking presentable for the evening ahead. He knows very, very well that there’s a huge chance this doesn’t go well for him. He knows you might just go ahead and rip the damn milkshake out of his clammy palms and throw it right back in his face, or maybe even throw a punch or two - hell, he deserves it. He’s not asking for forgiveness, he’s not asking for you to welcome him back in with open arms. He just knows that he won’t be able to rest well until he’s told you the truth, he has to apologize and be honest with you, whether you accept him back in or not.
Eddie gives himself a once, twice, three times over in the mirror, although his current attire isn’t much different from his usual. He’s still in his ripped black jeans, his surprisingly white Reeboks, and all of his chains and rings. Instead, though, he’s traded his usual band tee or denim vest with a black button-down shirt. He takes a deep breath, trying desperately to calm his nerves. He’d already smoked, hoping the high would ease his worries, to no avail. He’s not used to being nervous like this, not used to second-guessing his appearance or feeling his palms grow sweaty. He’s used to women throwing themselves at him, he’s used to one-night stands with no big feelings attached, he’s used to being balls deep inside someone and then never speaking a word to them again. He loves you. The thought plays over and over in his mind. He grabs his phone and his wallet and his keys before heading out the door, shuffling into his car and heading out on his mission.
The drive to the ice cream place wasn’t nearly as awkward as you thought it’d be, finding a lot to talk about with Argyle. He’s friendly and outgoing, never forcing a conversation but also never leaving room for the silences to be awkward. You don’t feel like you have to act a certain way to impress him, he’s just happy to be with you. It’s refreshing, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find your mind wandering elsewhere. It was already proving hard to keep Eddie out of your thoughts - Argyle would make a reference to something Eddie liked, the air freshener in Argyle’s car is the same one as in Eddie’s, so on and so forth. It’s like your brain was purposely torturing you, distracting you from having a good time. Eddie probably wasn’t thinking about you, so why did you have to be plagued with near constant thoughts of him?
“Hey, are you okay?” Argyle’s smooth voice breaks you out of your thoughts.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to zone out. I’m fine,” you give him a reassuring smile, and he looks at you for only a moment before seeming to accept your response.
“Well, anyway, I’ve never had the ice cream here but Jonathan said it’s the best. You’ll have to give me some recommendations,” he grins as he pulls his car into the parking lot, one hand on the wheel as the other taps on the crevice of the open window.
“Will do,” you smile. “Though I have to warn you, I always get the same damn thing,” you laugh, and he laughs along with you.
You both step out of the car, the sweet scent of waffle cones and vanilla milkshakes filling your nose. Argyle opens the door and a bell chimes, signaling your entrance as he holds the door for you. The air conditioning is on full blast, hitting your skin and making goosebumps prick up. You cross your arms instinctively, rubbing the skin for some warmth as you eye the menu, even though you never stray from your tried and true favorite. Argyle notices your slight shivering, immediately slipping his hoodie off and holding it out to you.
You start to decline politely before he waves you off.
“You’re only gonna get colder once you start eating your ice cream. I insist, take it,” you blush a little as you take the jacket, slipping it over your shoulders and leaving the zipper undone.
It’s big on you, Argyle having a height advantage, so you bunch up the sleeves. Instantly, your brain goes to a memory of you at an ice skating rink with Eddie and the rest of the group. You’d forgotten your jacket at home, and Eddie had offered you his within milliseconds of you starting to shiver. It was one of few times where Eddie made any sort of affection towards you known to others, rather than keeping it a raunchy secret, and you’d felt on top of the world parading around in his sweatshirt. Of course, that night had ended no differently than the others, Eddie fucking you into his mattress and taking you home afterwards, leaving you feeling empty.
You try to replace the thoughts of Eddie with thoughts of your current date, try to convince yourself that wearing Argyle’s hoodie feels just as good as wearing Eddie’s, but it doesn’t, and you can’t. You put as much focus as you can onto what Argyle’s saying, put on a happy face as you give him your flavor recommendations, but a man that’s not here is tugging at your heart strings all the while. You order at the counter, your usual birthday cake milkshake, letting Argyle decide a moment longer. You actually wince when he orders two scoops of butterscotch ice cream, the exact same thing Eddie would order the few times you’d come here with all of your friends. You feel like the world is playing a sick joke on you, refusing to let you let go of Eddie. You feel like you’re not even in your body when you grab a hold of the cold cup that your frozen dessert is in, only coming back to reality when Argyle asks where you want to sit.
You choose a booth by the window, the electric glow of the ‘Open’ sign flickering onto the table through the glass pane. Argyle takes a bite of his ice cream, and you give him your best effort in conversation.
“Well, what do you think?” you smile at him, forcing it a little too much maybe.
“I think I could drop dead right now this is so good,” he smiles right back, licking his spoon clean of another mouthful. “How’s yours?”
“Even better considering I didn’t have to pay for it,” you take a sip of your shake to punctuate your sentence. “Thank you, again.”
“Don’t have to thank me, I’m more than happy to pay for a girl as pretty as you,” he gives you another little grin, nothing but kindness behind his eyes.
You smile back, but you’re cursing inside your head. You have a sweet guy sitting in front of you, genuinely trying to get to know you and have a nice date, and you can’t stop thinking about someone else. There’s nothing wrong with Argyle, and you’re trying your very best to will yourself to fall in love with him or something when the door chime breaks you from your thoughts.
You look up at the door instinctively, and you almost choke on your ice cream at what you see. Eddie walks in through the door, looking gorgeous as ever, because of fucking course this would happen right now. You go rigid when he looks your direction and meets your eyes, and your face is instantly flushed with heat. You suddenly feel suffocated in Argyle’s hoodie, your stomach churning as you stare into those all-too-familiar brown eyes. You manage to tear your gaze away before he does, not wanting Argyle to get suspicious and try to discover what you’re staring at. You give yourself a mental kick, refusing to allow yourself to crumble in Eddie’s presence. Don’t let him see you sad, show him you’re fine without him. You reach across the table and brush your fingers on Argyle’s arm, laughing maybe a little too loud at something he says. You feel bad using him as revenge in this moment, but lucky for you, you don’t have to do it for very long. Eddie doesn’t order a thing, just turns on his heel and leaves.
Eddie feels like he can’t breathe when he gets back into his car, sitting in the parking lot with his heart threatening to shatter beneath his ribcage. You’re on a date. He was going to try and fix things, going to tell you he loves you, and you’re on a date. Of course he noticed the garment keeping you warm, far too big to be your jacket. You’re wearing this other guy’s jacket, so the date must be going well. He feels the bile rise in his throat at the thought of you in another guy’s clothes, the thought of another guy taking you home and kissing you and holding you and treating you the way you deserved - the way he never treated you. The worst part of it all is that Eddie knows he deserves this. He doesn’t deserve to get the happy ending, he burned this whole thing to the ground and he’s left searching for remnants of life in the wake of the fire. He pulls out of the parking lot, no destination in mind anymore. The flowers he got for you sit mockingly in his passenger seat, their sweet scent filling his nose as if to laugh at him. What the fuck does he do now?
After seeing Eddie at the ice cream place, you couldn’t get your head back on straight. You ended up telling Argyle you had a killer of a headache, and without hesitation he brought you home. Guilt tugged at your feet as you trudged up your stairs with him, tugged at your heart when he asked if there was anything he could do for you before he left. The poor, sweet guy didn’t even question it, showed no indication of him doubting your excuse. You knew you’d get an earful from Robin and Nance if they got wind of this. You’d promised Argyle you’d be okay and told him he was fine to leave, thanking him for the lovely date. You hated yourself for the way you couldn’t like him, the way every inch of your body and mind was stuck on Eddie. Nothing about Argyle was bad, and you lay cursing yourself on your mattress in your room. You eventually decide to change into something more comfortable, shed any tangible reminders of the date you ended too soon. You crawl under your covers in sweatpants and your coziest sweatshirt, pulling the blankets up to your face as frustrated tears burn your cheeks. Anger bubbles up inside of you, and takes over any other emotion you’d been feeling.
You’re angry that you can’t stop thinking about Eddie. Angry that you had to see Eddie tonight. Angry that you went on a date with a very nice guy and couldn’t get into it because of Eddie. Angry that Eddie left without a word when you told him you loved him. Angry that you let him treat you so poorly because you just can’t get enough of him. Cotton sweater sleeves are soaked with tears as you let the feeling flow from you, balling your hands up into fists and releasing them. Entirely unsure of what to do next, or how to get over this.
Eddie went home for all of an hour before realizing he couldn’t just sit around in silence and do nothing. Not now that he’d already had his plan literally in motion, he couldn’t stop. Even if you didn’t love him anymore, even if you wanted nothing to do with him, even if you wanted to throw the flowers back in his face and throw a punch or two, he had to open up to you. He gets in his car, hands shaking and stomach in knots as he prepares himself. For all he knows, your date could be back at your place with you. Or maybe you aren’t even home yet. But he has to try, has to get his feelings out in the open, at least so you know - even if you don’t want to be with him. It feels like every stoplight on his drive is mocking him, glowing red for seemingly agonizing amounts of time. The more time he has to think, the more sick to his stomach he feels. When he finally arrives in the parking lot of your place, he just sits for a moment. Taking shaky breaths, his stomach somersaults in anxious anticipation. One ringed hand reaches out for the beautiful bouquet of flowers beside him, picking them up by the crinkly paper they’re encased in before he opens his car door and shuts off the engine. Every stomp of his shoes on the stairs makes his heart pound faster, coming closer and closer to a confession bigger than any he’s ever given before. He stands in front of your door, begging silently for you to simply answer, and finally, he raises a fist to the wood to alert you.
The knocking startles you out of your slew of emotions, and you groan as you heave yourself out of bed. You’re fully expecting it to be Nancy or Robin at the door, or both of them, ready to interrogate you on why you cut your date short. You swing the door wide, mouth open and fully ready to defend yourself to the girls. Instead, you’re met with that curly frizzy hair and those round brown eyes that you know too well. Eddie stands like a deer in headlights, as if he wasn’t the one who knocked on your door, holding a massive bouquet of flowers in one hand. You let out an incredulous laugh, a no-fucking-way-are-you-here-right-now laugh. You go to slam the door right in his stupid beautiful face when he holds an arm out, wrenching it open.
“Wait. Please,” his voice chokes up as he says it.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Eddie? Saw me on a date with someone else and had to come assert your dominance or something?” you scoff, crossing your arms as if to protect yourself from more emotional hurt.
“No, I…. is your date still here?”
“What if he is, Eddie? Can’t wrap your head around the fact that another guy wanted to go out with me?” you snap.
“No no, I just… I don’t wanna do this if he’s here,” his voice is desperate, rushing to get the words out.
“He’s not here. And do what, exactly? String me along again just to leave me stranded in the end?” the words hurt you as you say them, a part of your heart wanting to just run to him and never let him go, and the other part wanting to run from him.
“I need to tell you how sorry I am. I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. I was an asshole, a horrible person to you, and you never deserved it,” his eyes flicker down to his feet before tentatively meeting yours again.
“Oh, my knight in shining armor, arriving at my door to apologize and I’m supposed to just fall at your feet, huh?” you shift your weight, raising an eyebrow at him.
“No! No, I don’t expect anything from you. But I can’t run from my feelings anymore.”
“Feelings?” you furrow your brows, your chest tightening.
Eddie is silent for a moment, fingers nervously fidgeting with the paper surrounding the bright green stems and vibrant petals. You roll your eyes, about to shut the door once again when he speaks up.
“I love you!” he blurts, his eyes frantic as they search yours.
“What?”
“I love you. I love you so fucking much, Y/N. I’ve known you were special since I met you, you’re different than anyone else I’ve ever met. I was too much of a fucking coward to tell you how much I liked you earlier because… because I was scared of getting hurt. And all I did was hurt you in the process, and I’m so sorry.”
You’re dumbfounded, your mouth hanging open slightly as you struggle for words.
“You didn’t say a word to me, Eddie,” your voice comes out quiet, pained. “You left without a single fucking word,” you hiss.
“I know I did. And it was the worst mistake of my entire life. I panicked, I didn’t know what to do - and that’s not an excuse - but I’m so, so sorry.”
You can see the hurt in his eyes, the fear encompassing espresso brown. He’s not joking around, he’s not playing with you this time.
“And you don’t have to say anything else. If you don’t love me anymore, if you don’t want to be with me or see me ever again, I get it. Say the word and I will walk away and never show my face to you again. I was a jerk, and I don’t deserve you. But I swear to you, I will never - never - hurt you again if you let me stay. I’m sorry it took me so long to say how I feel,” Eddie’s voice is breaking, and you can tell how much effort it’s taking him to keep himself together.
You snap, then. Your love for Eddie that you’ve been trying to shove down for weeks, finally claws it’s way out. No more forcing it back. No more hiding. Your feet are moving before you can process it. You throw yourself at him, taking the flowers and tossing them to the floor, wrapping your arms around him and feeling him hold you.
“I hate you so fucking much, Eddie Munson,” you smile through your wobbly voice, a new kind of tears springing in your eyes.
And Eddie laughs, his eyes also watery, because he knows you don’t mean it.
“I love you,” he says.
“I love you, too.”
“Be mine forever, please,” he murmurs, his eyes fluttering shut as his lips ghost over yours.
“It would be the honor of a lifetime,” you say.
He presses his forehead to yours, letting you lead when you lean in to kiss him. It feels like fireworks go off above your heads, your lips colliding in a way that finally won’t lead to a quick fuck on someone else’s mattress. No, this time you kiss him and it feels real. You feel secure, no longer worrying that the floor will fall out beneath your feet. His hands hold your face, thumbs brushing soft strokes along the apples of your cheeks. You cling to him like he’s your lifeline, kissing him like you never have before. Pouring your love into him, filling his cup because he’s finally allowing you to.
“Wait,” you say suddenly, pulling back. Eddie’s stomach drops, worried you’ve changed your mind. “I owe you an apology too,” you say.
He gives you a questioning look.
“I know you weren’t flirting with those women at The Hideaway the night we went out… Nancy told me it was a misunderstanding… and it was wrong of me to accuse you.”
“Sweetheart… you had every right to assume. I wasn’t exactly the kindest to you…” Eddie frowns.
“Even so, you weren’t flirting and you still deserve some grace. I’m sorry, Eddie. I blew this whole thing up in your face over something you didn’t actually do,” your voice is remorseful, and Eddie tilts your chin up with his index finger.
“I forgive you, always. I was never upset with you for that,” he promises, and his heart aches. The sweetest thing standing before him, apologizing when there was no need to.
You kiss him again, pulling him with you as you shuffle backwards into your apartment. He kicks the door shut, holding you to his chest as he stands against it. Your fingers clutch the collar of his shirt, mouth moving against his with fervor, like this is your last chance to kiss him. Eddie gasps in surprise when you tug him even closer to you, his large palms spanning across your back and holding you snug to his body. Tongues find their way into each other’s mouths, soft like velvet as they lick and explore. You find yourself grinding your hips into his, your body desperate to have him in a way like never before.
“Sweetheart, sweets,” Eddie pushes out between kisses, finally holding you back from attacking his mouth once more. “This doesn’t have to go any further… if you don’t want it to. I don’t want you to think that’s the reason I’m here,” Eddie says, and his tone is suddenly sad. You know the guilt is still eating at him, and will probably continue to eat at him no matter how much you reassure him going forward.
“I don’t think that’s why you’re here,” you reply, cupping a hand to the side of his face and looking intensely into his eyes, reassuring him. “But I’d be a dirty fucking liar if I said I haven’t missed your cock lately,” your voice drops lower, leaning up to his ear to murmur the words into it.
Your breath tickles his neck and he shudders, his cock stiffening in his jeans.
“Shit, baby,” he breathes, diving back down to your mouth for another heated kiss.
You lead him to your bedroom, somehow managing to make it safely despite the fact that your lips might as well be velcro’d to each other. Your hands roam his body like it’s the first time, butterflies fluttering madly in your stomach. Eddie’s hands are gentle on you, touching you in a new way. Nothing is rushed or hasty, instead Eddie takes his time as his hands find their way up your sweatshirt. You shiver when his fingertips graze your hips and start to glide up your back, his mouth devouring yours all the while. He groans into your mouth when you reach a hand down to palm him through the denim of his pants, making you pull back to smirk at him.
“Getting worked up for me, Munson?” you tease, silently reveling in the way he’s letting himself be more receptive to you.
“You have no idea, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs, his hands steady as he holds you.
You smile, leaning back in to kiss him with a clash of teeth. Eddie pushes you backwards gently, taking slight control as he encourages you down onto your bed. You lie back on your mattress, spreading your legs open for him to slot himself between. He climbs on top of you, hovering over you, dark curls falling in your face and tickling your skin. Your phone rings then, breaking you both out of the moment. The screen lights up with Nancy’s name, and you can’t help but laugh. Texts from Robin pop up right after, and Eddie raises a brow at you.
“I’ll debrief them later,” you smirk at him, shoving your phone away and holding his face in your hands.
“I’m so incredibly in love with you,” he says, his eyes pools of melted chocolate, sickeningly sweet with adoration as he gazes at you.
“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to hear you say that,” you breathe out a little laugh, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.
“I never thought I’d feel this way about anyone… never thought I’d let myself,” Eddie frowns slightly, relaxing when you grip his face in your hands.
“Thank you for letting me be the first,” you give him a soft smile, eyes lighting up when he blushes.
You pull his mouth back to yours, needy hands grabbing at the buttons on his shirt in a hint for him to remove it. He obliges instantly, unbuttoning it and sipping it off before being discarded onto your floor. You take a moment just to look at him, your eyes raking over his shirtless form. During your past hookups you never felt like you had the time to admire him, half the time you were too embarrassed to even try, for fear that he’d mock you for it. Now it’s different. You let your eyes and hands wander up and down pale skin, tracing the ink lines etched into various places. You can feel him growing harder in his pants when your fingers ghost over his crotch, smiling into the kiss when Eddie lets out a heavy breath.
“Need to get some of these clothes off you, sweetheart,” he mumbles into your mouth, pawing at the hem of your thick sweatshirt.
You help him pull it off of you, exposing your tits which lay perfectly on your chest, nipples perking up from the chill of your air conditioning. It’s his turn to admire you now, his hands cupping the soft skin of your breasts as he looks at you like you’re the greatest thing he’s ever seen.
“You’re s’fuckin perfect,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to your neck. “‘M so lucky,” a kiss to your collarbone, “the luckiest guy in the world,” his lips trail down to your tits before he wraps them around one of your peaked nipples.
His tongue kitten licks the sensitive little bundle, getting you breathless as his mouth switches over to the other one. One hand finds its way beneath the waistband of your pants, fingers curling over your mound still concealed by the thin fabric of your panties. There’s a wet patch already forming there, and you know he can feel it. Your cheeks flush when his fingers circle the wetness and he gasps a little, giving you a devilish smirk.
“Oh? What’s this?” he teases, leaning down to kiss your lips and then trailing his mouth to your jawline.
“Need you,” you whine, too desperate for him to retaliate against his taunting.
“You have me, sweet girl. For as long as you want me,” he brushes a strand of hair out of your face, leaning down once more to kiss you all over.
His lips move over the swell of your breasts, down to your bellybutton, finally stopping right above the fabric of your sweatpants. Big brown doe eyes look up at you, waiting for permission. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, nodding at him as you feel yourself tremble slightly with anticipation. He hooks his fingers into the cozy fabric, tugging the pants down your legs before tossing them to the floor. His mouth kisses over your underwear, tongue pressing flat against your folds, causing you to moan at the heat you feel at your core.
“Ed-dieeeeee,” you choke out between a gasp, reaching a hand down in an attempt to take your panties off.
“So impatient, aren’t we?” he purrs, admiring the wet spot he contributed to on your underwear before pulling them off and letting them mingle with the rest of your discarded garments.
He buries his face in your cunt almost instantly, his plush lips so soft against your folds as he presses kisses to them. He tongue is gentle when it first licks a stripe up through your wetness, and you hiss at the contact. You missed his mouth on you, missed his hands roaming your body. It feels so good to know he’s not going anywhere this time. Eddie wastes no time getting to work, his tongue dipping inside of you before playing with your clit, shaggy curls tickling your inner thighs as his head moves. His name falls from your lips like a mantra as he devours you, licking and sucking on you like you’re his last meal. He ruts his hips down into your mattress, erection straining in his jeans. You notice the movement and halt him immediately, almost losing your breath when he looks up at you with sparkling eyes, chin glistening with your slick.
“Why don’t you take those jeans off, handsome?” you encourage, reaching down to run a hand through his wild hair.
His fingers undo his belt buckle with ease, it’s the handcuff one that you always struggled to maneuver. Black denim joins the pile on your floor, and you notice the tented fabric of his boxers instantly.
“Poor baby,” you coo, “look how worked up you are for me,” your gentle fingers stroke his shaft through the fabric, earning a deep groan from him.
“Feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” he rasps, and you can tell how desperate he is for more contact.
“Why don’t you fuck me, then?” you ask, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes.
Eddie doesn’t need to be asked twice, shoving his boxers down his legs and off entirely. His cock springs free, and he’s harder than you think you’ve ever seen him. You can see the veins protruding from the shaft, the head a flustered red with pearlescent pre-cum just starting to drip out. A patch of dark curls rests at the base of his cock, enticing you, his heavy balls hanging low beneath. You nearly whimper at the sight, and he watches you as you take in every inch of him. He’s always loved the way you love his cock, though it’s never felt quite like it does now. He knows he’s presenting himself to you in a new way, and you’re admiring him in a new way. All he wants now is to bury himself inside you, feeling every single inch of your tight pussy as it swallows him whole.
“You ready for me, baby?” he questions, leaning down and hovering mere centimeters from your lips.
“Mhm, please,” you whine, keening up to press your lips to his in quick kisses, a tiny string of saliva connecting the two of you.
One of Eddie’s hands grabs the base of his cock, rubbing it up and down through your wet folds. You arch your back instinctively, gasping at the sensation. Eddie chuckles, low and deep, pressing kisses to your jawline and traveling down to your neck. Without much warning he slips his cock into you, the head stretching you as it paves the way for the rest of him. You let out a pornographic moan, holding nothing back from him this time around. You want him to know how good he makes you feel, how he sets every inch of you on fire in the most remarkable way. He continues to stretch you open for him, groaning at how easily you’re taking him.
“Shit, sweet girl, you’re just suckin’ me right in,” Eddie praises, his forehead dropping to rest on top of yours.
You can’t form words in response, the air being punched from your lungs when he sinks the last inch of him in. You’re so incredibly full of him, you swear you can feel him in every inch of your body. Your hands wrap around his back, clinging to the backs of his shoulders, hooking yourself to him. You want him closer than ever, need him all to yourself, and the way he brushes his nose against yours lets you know that he’s not going anywhere. He starts to slowly move, hips rocking as he thrusts gently. Even with his subtle movements, the sounds coming from your cunt are obscene, and all he can do is curse under his breath. You whimper beneath him, clinging ever tighter to his soft skin.
“What is it, baby?” he asks, stroking your cheek with the backs of his fingers.
“A little harder, Eddie, please?” you ask, round eyes looking up at him.
“Okay, sweetheart. But I don’t wanna just fuck you tonight,” he says, pausing to kiss you. “I wanna make love to you, the way I should’ve been for months now,” he admits, his cheeks flushing pink at his vulnerability.
“I love you so fucking much,” you whisper against his lips, “make love to me then, Eddie.”
And that he does. He gives it to you a little harder, knowing it’ll drive you crazy if he keeps his movements too slow. But his strokes aren’t rushed, he’s not in a race to cum, he’s just taking his time with you. He rolls his hips into you, dragging out each thrust and letting you feel every vein and ridge in his cock as he stretches you. You’re a moaning mess beneath him, hair sprawled across your pillow, eyes glassy as you grow dumb on his thick length. Your lips brush, oftentimes frozen slack-jawed as you moan into each others’ mouths. Eddie devours every sweet sound you make for him, pinching his eyes shut as he picks up his pace a little. His balls slap against you as he delivers each thrust, filling you to the brim before pulling back out. His movements are sensual, his hands kneading your breasts or gripping your hips as he fucks into you. He kisses all over your face, unspoken ‘I love yous’ communicated by the affection.
You’re filled with so many emotions as you let him unravel you, your eyes welling up with tears. Having Eddie to yourself feels better than you could’ve imagined, every single snap of his hips into yours reminding you that this time, everything is different. He’s soaking you in like you’re uncharted territory waiting to be discovered, caressing every curve and dip of your body. You babble nonsense beneath him, his name falling from your lips over and over. Your lips are wobbly, eyes watery as you’re overwhelmed with adoration for him. Eddie’s quick to kiss your tears away, whispering his affections for you between each press of his soft lips.
“My favorite girl,” he mumbles into your skin.
The sentiment he’d given you so many times before, the one you always hoped he meant, always pining to be his most important girl. It sounds sweeter coming out of his mouth now, no doubt in your mind that he’s speaking the truth.
“‘M so close, Eddie,” you pant. “Gonna cum. Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop,” your eyes roll back in your head as Eddie keeps a steady pace.
The tip of his cock hits just where you need it to, setting your insides ablaze. Eddie’s close, too, you can tell in the way his breathing has grown staggered.
“I’m gonna cum too, baby. Want it inside?”
“Yes,” you cry out, “please.”
Eddie rocks into you a few more times before you’re cumming around him, walls gripping him so tight, fluttering against his cock and giving him the friction he so desperately needs. You’ve got a death grip on him as he spills his load inside of you, his hips slowing as every drop fills you. He finally stills once every drop has left him, taking heavy breaths as he grounds himself. Your tits are pressed against his chest, feeling him so impossibly close to you, sweat coating your skin as well as his.
Chocolate brown eyes meet yours as you come out of your euphoric haze, Eddie giving you a lovesick grin. You giggle as you smile back at him, still catching your breath.
“That was amazing. You’re amazing,” Eddie says, letting out an airy little laugh.
“Feels so good to love you,” you reply, making him blush yet again.
He pulls out of you slowly, making you wince slightly. He goes into your bathroom without a word, grabbing a clean towel and getting it slightly damp with warm water. He returns to clean you up, wiping your sensitive skin oh so gently, leaving kisses on your inner thighs in the towel’s wake. You sigh contentedly, curling up under your blankets while Eddie goes to clean himself up. He makes himself comfortable in bed beside you once he returns, silently staring at you once more with those gorgeous eyes, saying so much without even opening his mouth. He pulls you closer to him, kissing the top of your head and rubbing your back.
“Thank you,” he says quietly. “For everything.”
You don’t say anything in response, words aren’t necessary to convey how you feel. The way you curl closer into him, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing, says everything Eddie needs to hear. You fall asleep not long after, the sound of Eddie’s breathing and the feeling of his strong arms around you soothing you into a slumber.
The next morning you wake to sunlight peeking through your curtains, casting a soft orange glow on your entire room. You rub your eyes, letting them focus as you look around your room. Your gaze lands on the discarded clothes on your floor before trailing upwards, over the sleeping form beside you concealed by your comforter, until it finally lands on Eddie’s face snuggled into your pillow. Frizzy curls sprawled over the pillowcase, long eyelashes kissing his cheeks as he continues to sleep peacefully. You smile to yourself, your heart thumping in your chest as you hear him snoring softly. After the mess of the last couple of months, your aching heart and puffy eyes over the last couple weeks, the dust is finally settling. Everything was set on fire, and you’re realizing now that flames don’t always leave decay and destruction in their wake. Sometimes, they pave the way for new growth, blossoming beginnings. You and Eddie lie here together now, as the smoke leaves the air and the sun rises, bathed in the afterglow.
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1K notes · View notes
ilwonuu · 2 months
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𖥔 ͙ࣳ hate the club. k. mingyu
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this fic is inspired by this song so pls listen to it <333
“tired of going out, scared ill run into you”
“damn you know i hate the club, but i came cuz i know you’d show up”
summary 𖡼 your friend group goes out every friday. you never feeling up to joining them. you always find an excuse not to come. but now you’re sitting at home with nothing to do. so why not drink a little and hangout with your friends at the club?? what could go wrong? seeing your ex could definitely happen..
warnings- ex to lovers!!, alcohol consumption, smut with semi plot. switch!mingyu, switch!reader, oral sex f.receiving, fingering, riding, pet names- baby,princess,unprotected sex(don’t do it), creampie, multiple orgasms, lmk if i missed anything pls<3
authors note- i read over this like once so if theres any spelling or grammar errors pls let me know!!! i hope u guys love this i loved writing it!!!!
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you feel bored with no company tonight. not loving the presence of nothing of your apartment and stuff animals as you usually do. sending seungkwan a quick text telling him you’ll be joining him, seokmin, and chan tonight. getting a sassy text back as usual
kwannie😓- what the fuck. girl don’t play????
kwannie😓- u better not be lying because seokmin and chan are actually gonna be the death of me.
kwannie😓- be ready at 9 ok.
you- im not kidding hoe and yes i am already ready ish???
kwannie😓- ok ill be there at 9 😘😘😘
you smile to yourself continuing to get ready. checking to see if you have a good amount of time to finish your hair. happy to see you have enough time with it only being 8:15.
finishing everything you need to do finally making your way outside after getting a text from seungkwan saying that they have arrived. walking to his car somewhat nervous about what the night has in store for you. you never know you could meet someone? or see someone you absolutely hate.
getting into the car immediately being greeted by your best friends. “y/n!!!! i feel like im seeing a ghost you never fucking leave your house” chan says laughing causing you to send him a glare. “shush be happy im here for once okay”
“no seriously i thought my eyes were deceiving me when i read your text” seungkwan says quickly starting to head to the club they always go to. “ok guys thats enough let her live she doesn’t have to come out with us every time.” seokmin says giving you a slight smile.
“thank you seokmin. the only one who appreciates me” “okay but yes of course she doesn’t have to come out everytime. but she doesn’t come out anytimes!!! this is her first time in like 10 years” chan says laughing with seungkwan as he also finds chans joke hilarious. causing them both to receive a glare.
“very funny chan!!! i will get out of the car and walk back home.” you say looking at him threatening him playfully. “you’re dramatic” kwan says finally pulling into the parking lot of the club.
“im also very nervous to be here.” “if we see anyone we don’t like it’ll be fine y/n we don’t have to interact or anything” chan says knowing exactly who you were thinking of getting out of the car having the rest of you follow his lead into the club.
“yea you’re right..” you say slowly walking behind them into the loud crowd of people dancing. “ok first things first drinks!!!!” seungkwan yells dragging you all to the bar. chan seokmin order vodka shots happily, quickly running to dance in the crowd of people. “can we just get two shots of tequila each?” seungkwan asks for the both of you. smiling at the bartender when his drinks are set in front of you two. “okay lets drink these then lets dance!!!” seungkwan smiles at you quickly taking his shots now waiting for you to do the same.
you nervously take the shots making a grossed out face after downing it with a sip of water. seungkwan pulling you towards the crowd as soon as you were ready shortly finding seokmin and chan. “how do you guys get drunk so fast?” you laugh at seokmin and chan completely lost in the song dancing dramatically. “they are fucking lightweights” seungkwan says causing you both to laugh at them.
“i fucking wish. i only feel a little tipsy” you say scanning around the club with your eyes. “do you want to get more drinks or wait a bit then??” seungkwan asks while pulling you close to dance with him. “nah we can wait” you say over the loud music.
you are really trying to have a good time but this isnt really your thing. you were hoping that the drinks would losen your nerves up a little bit but you were so wrong. now you are dancing completely soberly with seungkwan. trying not to ruin your best friends night. “im gonna go to the bathroom real fast kwannie” you whisper to him before disappearing to find the bathroom. you quickly use the bathroom heading back over to the bar to get a couple more shots. “fuck why did i do this to myself” you say under your breath quickly downing the shots without water this time. feeling a little better making your way back into the crowd searching for any of the three boys you arrived with.
pushing through the crowd trying to find them. you accidentally push someone a little to hard quickly going to apologize. “i am s-so sorry.” you say realizing exactly who you bumped into having them turn and look down at you. “jesus you push fucking h-“ mingyu immediately freezes after seeing you. “fuck y/n? what are you doing here?”
“well this is a public place and a club so i would assume we’re here for the same reason.” you say sarcastically while trying to push past him. “well what are you doing by yourself?” he asks concerned stopping your movements. “where is seungkwan?” he looks around the club quickly scanning seeing if he sees anyone who looks like the boy. “well actually im not sure so if you’ll excuse me i will be continuing to look for my friends.” you say finally trying to push past him again.
“wait just let me help you look for them. it’s kinda depressing being here alone.” he says once again finally letting you push past him to continue looking. he follows behind you slowly. “so uh how have you been?” you scoff stopping to look at him. “are you serious right now? i really would rather not pretend to like you right now okay? just help me find seungkwan and then you can go back to whatever you were doing.”
you say sighing going back to looking for you friends. mingyu doesn’t say another word and just follows you quietly. “why don’t you call him?” he suggests. “i left my phone in seungkwans car like the bright fucking person i am.” you say getting more annoyed as the situation goes on.
“shit you wanna use my phone then? i still have his number from you know..” he says nervously handing you his phone after clicking on seungkwans contact. “y-yea thanks” you take his phone letting the memories wash over you. you patiently wait as the phone starts to ring and shortly someone picks up. “seungkwan??? where did you fucking go??” you are now getting more uncomfortable with the fact that you lost all of them in the span of 10 mins. “um what the fuck mingyu you sound like y/n also why the hell are you calling me?” seungkwan slurs over the phone questioning you. “seungkwan ur drunk. also this is fucking y/n im using mingyus phone dumbass!!” your voice sounding annoyed more now. “girl what? why are you using his phone? are you guys…? um back together?” he asks loud enough for both you and mingyu to hear.
you sigh looking at mingyus eyes go wide at what he just heard. “s-seungkwan can you just fucking tell me where you went? you know what fuck it im just gonna get an uber home okay im tired.” you say slightly tearing up at the stressful situation. “we just went to the bar upstairs y/n. are you sure you wanna leave already we’ve only been here for like an hour.”
seungkwan asks through the phone sensing that something is wrong. “do you want me to send seokmin with you? he said he will come with you.” he offers. “kwannie its fine ill just order it off mingyu’s phone. will you just drop off my phone tmr? i left it in your car.” you say finally after ending the call after hearing his okay.
“mingyu do you mind if i use your phone to order a uber?” you turn to mingyu hoping he will say yes. “yes of course y/n. but you don’t need to do that. cheol said he was here to pick up me and shua but im guessing shua is with some girl so cheol can just drop you off.” he says smiling at you. “okay um let me make sure i have my keys and fuck i don’t they are also in seungkwans car.” you say realizing as you feel your pockets. “wanna just stay at my place tonight?” he blurts out quickly. “mingyu- i- what?” now your confused, tired, and annoyed. “just come sleep at my place. its not that weird y/n. what’s the chance seungkwan is gonna come unlock his car rn? come on i’ll drop you off in the morning i swear.” “its not weird to you? we haven’t spoke in like a year.”
this was not a great idea. you and mingyu ended on somewhat bad terms. he wasn’t willing to commit to you. he ended up treated you like shit because of it. you know this has nothing to do with what he asked but it’s obviously on your mind. you are now confused, tired, annoyed, and overwhelmed.
“y/n i kinda need a answer now. cheol is outside.” he says snapping you out of your thoughts and back into reality. “u-uh okay yea lets go” you say immediately regretting it. mingyu smiles grabbing your hand making the way out of the club to cheols car. quickly getting into the back seat.
“whats up mingyu. hey y/n. y/n????? oh shit hi” he says now realizing that is is actually you. “hello cheol nice to see you” you say softly laughing. “yea you too. um are you guys back together?” he asks out of the blue. “nope!!” you quickly say hoping he doesn’t ask anymore questions. “just drive cheol.” mingyu says and mentally thank him because cheol didn’t ask anymore questions driving silently. you two make it to mingyu’s house after a 10 minute car drive. “ah fucking finally these heels are literally the worst” you say walking into his house kicking them off as you go. “you can borrow some clothes. i think i even have your old pjs in my room.” he says taking off his shoes as well. “im surprised you even still have those.” you say making your way to his room. the memories coming back as you seen his room looks the same way it did when you guys were together. you grab the pajamas making your way to his bathroom quickly changing heading back into his living room. “you want to take my bed? i can sleep out on the couch.” he says throwing a pillow and blanket onto the couch. “no mingyu its fine i can take the couch. you can have your bed.” you say laughing at him slightly going to sit on the couch. “or you can sleep in my bed with me.” mingyu says looking at you cautiously. now leaving you pressured at what he is offering right now. “mingyu. what are you doing? you know that isn’t a good idea. we aren’t together anymore.” you say laying down getting comfortable. “i know we aren’t. but fuck y/n have you not been thinking about us at all? or anything that we had. i miss it. i miss you.”
you look at him with a blank expression. what the fuck do you say? of course you think about him and your relationship. more than you should. “mingyu i do okay. i never stopped really but im not in the mood to get hurt again okay.” “i fucking promise you i will never treat you the same way i did okay?” he moves to sit next to you on the couch moving to grab your hands. “let me make it up to you? let me show you i can be there for you. i want to be the boyfriend you deserve. will you just give me a chance?” you think for a couple seconds.
he seems genuine. you did miss him a lot. a chance doesn’t hurt right? “okay mingyu. i will sleep with you in your bed okay. but i swear if you do anything like how you did before the break-“ he kisses you softly shutting you up. “i promise.” he says holding his pinky up
you wrap your pinky around his smiling as he lifts you and carries you to his room. softly throwing you onto his bed and climbing next to you. “you don’t know how much i missed you. i thought i was never gonna see you again.”
“yep that was the plan until i saw you at the club.” you state not wanting to lie to him. “well im so glad i saw you.” you smile at him. “can i make it up to you? ill make you feel so good y/n if you let me please.” hes already begging and you guys haven’t even done anything but a kiss.
he was always like this. he would immediately get needy after one small touch. mingyu was definitely a fucking switch. most of the time he loved being in control and seeing you beg for him. but everyone knew mingyu always leaned towards the subby side. he will listen to your requests always. if you’re happy he’s happy.
you nod softly at him watching him quickly shift between your legs pull down your shorts and underwear in one swift movement. kissing up your thighs slowly making your breath hitch under his touch. “fuck you’re so wet and i haven’t even touched you baby.” slowly moving his fingers up your slit inserting a finger in. his fingers immediately hit your g-spot causing you to already squirm until his firm touch.
“fuck you’re so tight. i can barely move my finger babe.” watching you closely as he inserts a second and third finger quickly watching as you get wetter from his touch. “g-gyu please more i need more.” you beg him hoping to add something extra to get you closer to your high.
“shh baby let me take my time i promise you’ll get everything you need okay?” he says sweetly pulling his fingers out of you with the noise of your squelch filling the room. “you hear yourself baby? you’re making a mess on my bed already hm?” he coos at you shifting so that his head is in between your legs. gently grabbing your thighs to spread your legs. “i bet you taste as sweet as i remember hm? could eat you for fucking days.” he immediately dives into eating your pussy. licking your slit as he slides one of his fingers back inside you.
“g-gyu oh my god.” eyes rolled back having your back arched as he absolutely devours you roughly sucking your clit fucking his finger into you quicker. looking up at you through his eyelashes not stopping his movements. not even to praise you. he is too pussy drunk and doesn’t want to stop anytime soon. grabbing a hold of his hair pulling on it when his finger hits that spot again making you go crazy. “m-mingyu i’m gonna cum please don’t stop.” and he doesn’t he sucks on your clit harder keeping up his pace with his finger. you come all over his tongue and his fingers. fucked out completely as you watch mingyu lick up your cum and hum.
“you taste so sweet princess. fucking delicious baby.” he smiles at you again moving up to kiss your lips. tasting yourself on his lips.
“what do you want baby? i will give you anything you want.” pulling his shirt over his head looking at you waiting for your answer. “can i ride you? g-gyu please i need you so bad.” he nods quickly. “m’course you can” he moves so he’s sitting up against the headboard of the bed. watching as you move onto his lap.
you have never seen mingyu take his pants off quicker. immediately pulling his dick out pulling your face closer to peck your lips. smiling into the kiss lining up his dick with your entrance slowly sinking down onto him.
mingyu is always more subby with this position immediately begging and pleading for your touch. “f-fuck y/n please move i need it so bad please baby.” he begs you trying not to fuck his hips into you.
you slowly rock your hips into his moaning at the feeling holding onto his shoulders for support. “you’re so tight im gonna cum so quick. i-i’m fuck i’m sorry” grabbing ahold of your hips to move you quicker on him. “i’m so close baby fuck.” he says feeling you bouncing on his dick now trying to chase your own high. “m-me too.” he groans lowly feeling his dick twitch inside of you. “f-fuck can i cum inside or where do you want it?” “inside p-please.” he doesn’t have to be told twice immediately cumming inside of you throwing his head back lost in the intense pleasure
you don’t stop bouncing on him. “babe i’m so sensitive fuck.” he says to you still fucked out holding onto you.
you nod. “i know baby but please you can last a little longer right? for me right? my good boy.” you try to turn him on with your words knowing it will go straight to his dick. he moans at your words pulling you into a quick kiss. “y-yes i’m so good for you.”
you smile at him quickening your movements now really needing his shoulder for support as you feel yourself coming. “f-fuckkk look at you c-creaming on my cock oh shit im gonna cum again.” you feel his cum shoot immediately into you. moaning at the feeling riding out both of your highs.
slowly climbing off of his lap laying next to him. “i missed you so fucking much.” he says pulling you under the covers with him kissing your forehead. “i missed you too but i don’t miss how you think i just want to lay here feeling your cum leak out of me.” you say playfully shifting to show him the puddle that is now under your crotch.
“its fine baby we can shower in the morning. plus what if we fuck again. you’ll just be full of my cum again.” he says with a straight face. you roll your eyes burying your face into his neck.
“i guess we’ll have to explain to seungkwan and cheol why we told them we weren’t back together…” you think out loud before falling asleep in your boyfriends arms.
468 notes · View notes
wintaerbaer · 3 months
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ringing in the year (jjk)
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summary: Your six-year relationship with Jungkook certainly hasn't been devoid of the occasional mishap. But when Seokjin accidentally winds up with a gift meant for you, Jungkook's proposal may wind up being the biggest blunder of all.
pairing: Jungkook x Reader
rating: generally sfw, sans a handful of swear words
genre: established relationship au, pure fluff, bit of a crack fic
word count: 2.2k
a/n: this was so fun to write, and a bunch of the details were inspired by real life events! thanks to @animeniacss for brainstorming this one with me and sprinting me through it. wishing everyone a happy and healthy new year! <3
MASTERLIST
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Jungkook knows he’s messed up several times over the course of your six-year relationship.
There was the time in college when he wanted to cook you dinner and, upon realizing that he didn’t have a corkscrew to open the bottle of wine, tried to pry it open with a screwdriver and sprayed most of it all over the kitchen and himself.
There was the time when he ate suspiciously old-looking dumplings out of the fridge for lunch in spite of Hoseok’s warnings and spent your anniversary date that night going in and out of the bathroom.
And of course, there was the time when he'd insisted that it was fine for you to get frisky in the living room because Jimin wouldn't be back until tomorrow. Only to realize, oh wait, it's Saturday, the second the man himself walked in the door with both Yoongi and Taehyung in tow, all three getting quite the view of you and Jungkook on the area rug.
But this right here, he thinks, has got to be his biggest fuck-up of all, watching Seokjin peel back the wrapping paper on his white elephant gift to reveal a white mug that says, in large black lettering, “WORLD’S BEST WIFE.”
“Awww, Jungkookie,” he coos, raising the mug up above his head to show it off. “You’re proposing?”
He is, in fact, trying to propose, but certainly not to Seokjin. Every New Year’s Eve since sophomore year of college, your friend group has gotten together to party and do a holiday gift exchange that consists of a white elephant round and a general present swap.
Jungkook, wanting to propose amongst your friends and on what you’ve always said is your favorite day each year, had intended to give you the mug and propose later in the night. But, it would seem, he must’ve mixed up the two presents, putting your mug into the white elephant pile instead of the travel mug he had meant to contribute.
“Ah, Y/N,” Seokjin is now sighing, “I’m so sorry you had to find out this way.”
You're giggling, wrapped in a burrito blanket that was courtesy of Hoseok. “It's okay. I understand that your love can't be denied.”
“Actually, hyung,” Jungkook finally gets the courage to pipe up. Is it hot in here? It feels hot in here. He might be sweating. “Can I talk to you in the kitchen for a second?”
“You need to talk now?” Hobi asks, wearing a t-shirt that also happens to be a collage of Seokjin's face–his white elephant offering. “It’s Yoongi’s turn. Let’s finish the white elephant, and then you can talk.”
“But–”
“I want Namjoon’s,” Yoongi says, snatching up the gift and tearing away the paper to unfurl a large black Snuggie. “Oh, fuck yeah.”
“You got a Snuggie?” Jimin jeers in Namjoon’s direction. “Lame.”
“Lame? It’s funny,” Namjoon argues.
“Yeah, if it was 2008.”
“Hey, I’m not complaining.” Yoongi slides his arms into the sleeves, settling into the couch and eyeing the rest of the group warily.
Jimin rolls his eyes at him. “No one is going to steal it, hyung.”
“Nobody better fucking steal it.”
The game actually finishes with no steals. Namjoon opens up your gift (a KFC-scented fire log) and Jimin and Taehyung choose each other’s only to find out that they both bought Bob Ross Chia Pets. With the game over, your group devolves back into party mingling–Yoongi dozing off on the couch in his new Snuggie, Jimin and Taehyung heading immediately to the dining room to get started on their chia projects, and the rest of you trying to decide which party games you’re going to play as the night goes on.
But when Seokjin stands up, declaring that he’s heading to the kitchen to get a drink for his “fun new mug,” Jungkook jumps to follow him, bringing along the slab of granite with twenty dollars taped to it that he’d opened (“I’m renovating my countertops,” Yoongi had explained).
“Hyung,” Jungkook hisses as Seokjin reaches into the fridge for a beer. “I need that mug.”
Seokjin turns, sizing him up in the glow of the refrigerator. “Then you probably should’ve picked it.”
Jungkook huffs in exasperation before stepping in closer, lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. “Listen, I am trying to propose to Y/N tonight.”
“With a white elephant gift that anyone could’ve gotten?” He clicks his tongue, scolding. “That’s just terrible planning, Jungkookie. And proposing with a mug? A little boring.”
Color rises to Jungkook’s face, giving his cheeks a natural blush. “We were watching reruns of The Office when I kissed her for the first time. And it wasn’t supposed to be a white elephant–you know what? It doesn’t matter at this point. I just need the mug back.”
He reaches for the counter, intending to steal the mug away, but Seokjin gets there first, cradling it to his chest with a pout. “No, it’s mine. I opened it, and I’ve already imprinted–”
“We never should’ve let Y/N show you Twilight. Here, look.” He raises the granite sample and money in his hands, offering it up. “I’ll give you Yoongi’s gift and the gift I was supposed to be giving for the game. You’ll get two.”
Seokjin narrows his eyes in suspicion. “What was your original gift?”
“A travel mug that says, ‘Weird to be the same age as old people.’”
He gets a wrinkled nose in response. “Well I like this one better. The other one calls me old. This one says I’m the best wife ever.”
“Oh my God, hyung. You’re not a wife!”
“I’m not old either!”
Jungkook throws his arms up in frustration, practically launching his hunk of stone across the room. “Then what am I supposed to do? You’re really going to ruin my entire proposal?”
“Hmm.” Seokjin lifts a hand to his chin, the other still clutching the mug to his body. “Thirty-two-race drunk Mario Kart?”
“Hyung.”
“What? You want the mug–this is how you can get it.”
Jungkook scrubs a hand over his face, accepts the inevitable. “Okay, fine. I’ll do it.”
“Hooray!” A clap of his hands as Seokjin practically skips from the kitchen. “I’ll get us set up!”
By the time Jungkook drags his feet into the living room, Seokjin has already gathered a crowd, your friends piling onto the couches and armchairs to watch the upcoming event. Surely they’re expecting a slaughter; Seokjin is notoriously a Mario Kart ace.
“You looking to get drunk, babe?” you ask, settling into the spot next to him on the couch. “There are easier, less humiliating ways, you know.”
He pouts, eyebrows squishing together. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he grumbles, immediately forgiving you when you press your lips to his.
“For luck,” you say, giving him one more peck before sitting back to watch Seokjin hand him a controller, shot glass, and bottle of soju.
“Pick your character.” He plops onto Jungkook’s other side, selecting his own racer on the screen.
“Peach? Really?” Namjoon teases.
Seokjin shoots him a look. “I don’t wanna hear that from a basic-ass Mario main.”
Jungkook, meanwhile, chooses Donkey Kong, and loads up the first map, Peach and Donkey Kong lining up in their pink and yellow go-karts at the starting line.
“May the best me win,” Seokjin says, a split second before the light goes green.
He does win the race. And the next one and the next one. And Jungkook is three shots in before he even knows what hit him, fingers wrapped tightly around the controller.
“Not too late to back out, Jungkookie,” Seokjin jests, nudging him in the ribs. “At least leave with your pride intact.”
But before Jungkook can even respond, mouth already half-open in indignation, you wrap a soothing hand around his knee, massaging lightly.
“You've got this, Kook. You can do it.”
The sound of your voice puts him at ease almost instantly, and he ignores Seokjin, loading up the next track. This time, he does his best to relax, letting the feel of your palm siphon away his anxiety.
This is for you. He can do this for you.
The race is close, their cartoon avatars neck-and-neck until Jungkook manages to gain an edge at the very last second and blow through the finish line first.
“Holy shit!” Taehyung exclaims. “The Kart King lost?!”
“Calm down, it's one race,” Seokjin says. But he shifts forward on the couch as he takes his shot of soju, clearly miffed. “We have twenty-eight more to go. I like my odds.”
Seokjin wins the next one again, celebrating with a whoop, but Jungkook goes on a run after that, winning three in a row so they're tied. And once the thirty-second race has been driven, Seokjin has won sixteen, Jungkook has won sixteen, and they've each drunk two bottles of soju apiece.
“TIEBREAKER RACE,” Seokjin slurs, swaying on his feet. He's played the last dozen games standing up, claiming it “helps with the turns,” whatever that means.
“I think you two have had enough,” you say, patting Jungkook lovingly on the arm. “Just call it a tie and leave it there.”
He jerks away, stretching his arm out like he thinks you're going to try and take the controller from him. “No, Y/N! I need that mug!”
Your lips pull down into a frown. “What mug?”
“I think Y/N is right, you guys,” Namjoon chimes in. “You both need some water.”
“Everyone shut the fuck up. I'm trying to sleep,” grumbles the Snuggie blob.
“ONE MORE RACE!” Seokjin yells, insistent. “FOR IT ALL! FOR THE MUG!”
“Again, what mug?”
But you don't get an answer. Instead, Jungkook shouts, “FINE! RAINBOW ROAD, ASSHOLE!” and everyone's eyes fixate on the screen, eager to find out who will emerge victorious.
Both characters rip off the starting line, Seokjin quickly obtaining a mushroom power-up that gives him a speed boost and comfortable lead. But after Jungkook lucks out on a green shell throw, causing Seokjin to spin out of control, he takes the lead as the first lap ends.
“C’mon, babe!” you cheer, Jimin and Taehyung joining in in their desire to see the Kart King tumbled from his throne.
Jungkook holds his lead for most of the lap, but Seokjin takes it back after a couple more mushroom boosts and a red shell. The final lap is tight, the lead going back and forth and back and forth until all hope seems lost as Seokjin begins to pull away on the last leg…
Only for him to cut the final turn too closely, allowing Jungkook to bump him right over the side of the track and into space before blasting across the finish line.
The room erupts in cheers, Jungkook leaping to his feet with a shout even as Seokjin falls to the floor with a scream of anguish. You stand as well, trying to give your boyfriend a hug, but you’re shocked when he moves away from you instead, preoccupied with something on the dining table.
He crosses the room–dodging Jimin and Taehyung, who are now flossing over Seokjin’s prone body–to grab the “WORLD’S BEST WIFE” mug and triumphantly raise it in the air before stumbling back to where you stand both perplexed and amused by the scene before you.
“This,” he says, clumsily pressing the mug into your hands, “was supposed to be for you.”
“World’s Best Wife?” you ask, heart hiccuping as you begin to have a suspicion. “Like Michael Scott’s mug?”
“Yes!” The word feels heavy moving off of his tongue, and he suddenly regrets not being sober for this. “Because uhhhh…I have this for you, too. Shit, wait.”
He fumbles around his pockets, panicking until he finds the ring, slips it out of his pants, and drops to his knee with a graceless thud.
“Ow, crap. Y/N.” He takes your hand, and in spite of the absurdity of it all, in spite of the fact that part of the room is now fawning over you while the other part is either sleeping or on the floor, you feel tears pricking your eyes.
Really, you couldn’t think of a more perfect scene.
“Y/N,” he begins again–slowly, like his words need to be corralled, “I love you. So much. And I know I may sometimes be forgetful or foolish or careless–sometimes I might accidentally spray wine all over the kitchen or ruin a proposal because I gave Seokjin the wrong present by mistake–but I just…love you.” He blinks, thoughts drifting away from him as the soju continues to take its toll. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what I’m saying is even making sense, but…I find I don’t mind having those moments as long as you’re there with me. I’m fine making a fool out of myself if it’ll make you smile or laugh so…” He hoists the ring up just a little higher, eyes hopeful. “Marry me?”
A leaping sensation takes off behind your ribs as you gasp, “Yes, Jungkook. Of course, yes.”
For someone who’s drunk, he surges back up with incredible speed to capture your mouth in a kiss, dragging your body to his and swaying you side-to-side.
“Congratulations, you two,” Yoongi says through the applause of your friends–even Seokjin managing to clap his hands like a seal from the floor. “Now can I please get some fucking sleep?”
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a/n: please consider liking, reblogging, or commenting if you enjoyed :)
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691 notes · View notes
raribella · 2 months
Text
Love is Embarrassing | JJ Maybank
summary: although JJ had promised your brother he wouldn’t ever hurt you, you saw him kissing Kie while you were on a break.
pairing: JJ Maybank x Routledge!reader
genre: emotionally heavy anst, fluff in the end
contains: reader being a real bitch, mentions of Luke and parental abuse, inspired by some songs in the album “GUTS” by Olivia Rodrigo, kinda shitty ending but let me know.
word count: 2,7k
author’s note: alright I know I’ve been MIA and a bitch and I haven’t posted anything in months (worse if you see how much stuff is on my “upcoming works” section), but I’ve just had a lot of ideas, little time and little confidence to write. one of my best friends just showed me obx and I’m in love with this blonde and I got (I think) a spoiler about him and Kie and I just had to do something with my feelings.
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This is a work of fiction. I do not own the characters of Outer Banks nor any characteristic of the show. I am writing this story solely for my own entertainment and the marvel or comfort of any readers.
“If I fuck up with her that might as well be the last thing I do in my life, John B! I mean it!”
the words that JJ heatedly uttered to your twin brother the day he found out about the two of you were repeating over and over in your head right now. You remembered it all too well; John B was seething, absolutely pissed, seeing red. You and JJ Maybank knew each other for as long as he and your brother were best friends, when you turned 14, he declared to all the Pogues that you were off limits, and about two months ago, you and JJ started seeing each other. One month into it and JB discovered you, which was easy considering JJ already spent most of his time with both of you at the Chateau. JJ promised his best friend that he wouldn’t fuck up with you because two things mattered the most for him in this life; their friendship, and yourself.
But as of lately, he was having some problems with Luke and he asked for some time “out” so he could figure his shit out without involving or hurting you and you disagreed but you’d do pretty much anything in this world for this man so you decided to say yes.
To his bullshit.
Bullshit, you figured out about half an hour ago, when you heard a confusing conversation between him and Kiara – the perfect one – and when you went outside to track the noise, you saw them kissing.
You were fifteen minutes late to leave for the weekly kegger and you forced yourself to lock yourself in the bathroom and call in sick – because that you were, and you wouldn’t handle being out partying and pretending like seeing the kooks, and seeing them two wouldn’t make you feel the same type of nausea at this moment.
Sarah was the third person to try and make you get out of the bathroom. The first being your brother and the second, Pope. Although you were thankful neither JJ nor Kie had tried to talk to you, when you heard your best friend’s voice, you were actually starting to feel sick, you were having a migraine from holding tears up, and you were sweating.
“Y/n, come on! You were so excited to come not even an hour ago, we’re already late and I don’t see why wouldn’t you want to come”
Your vision was blurry as you palmed the door and laid your forehead on it. Sarah realized that you really weren’t coming when she heard your voice crack.
“Sarah please, just, go on out without me this one time, I need not to be there right now and I also need to be alone please don’t ask me questions I can’t handle to answer you this moment I promise-“
As you rambled, she frowned from the other side of the door. Making sure to get everyone to leave for the Kegger, to try and remember asking you about this later on, and to reassure John B that you were actually okay.
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You’ve been successfully avoiding JJ for about two weeks now. It started with enough discretion, allegedly going to the bathroom every time he entered a room, or offering everyone any snacks you would spend too much time preparing in the kitchen. For him, it started getting obvious when you looked the other way when he looked at you at the beach, or when you refused to surf and, as of recently, started slamming the doors on him. JJ was getting pissed at this rate. He started by simply frowning and brushing it off, but you couldn’t just keep slamming doors and not even looking at him, and if everyone else noticed, they just wouldn’t budge! The worst part is that he didn’t know what had happened nor if he could fix it. You understood him when he told you he needed time to figure out some stuff with Luke, but the truth was he was still very much freaked out about that. He still loved you, and he couldn’t afford to see you like this anymore, especially when such behavior was being directed at him. JJ missed you. Even if he couldn’t really figure his shit out, he missed you screaming at the top of your lungs as you entered the sea, he missed your smile, your laidback grin that he was the only receiver of, he missed your colorful bikinis, and how they embraced your features as you would jump onto every wooden swing near the shore, your curly hair flying everywhere filled with salt spray. He just missed you, the real you. And he had to talk to you to see if there was even a chance that he could get you back.
You, on the other hand, kept avoiding the questioning looks the pogues would send you every time you were harsh or avoidant at JJ, your brother even attempted to talk to you, silently, just with glances, and figure out if his best friend had hurt you. But even if he did, it only hurt because you loved him too much, and you decided it was best to protect him from John B’s wrath. You felt embarrassed whenever Kiara questioned you with her eyes as well; you felt embarrassed to be near her. You kept crucifying yourself and both her and JJ because of everything, often zoning out of the conversation and just bitterly reminiscing about the times you consoled your boyfriend as he cried late at night in your room, being gentle with his bruises. – thinking how could you be so stupid? giving up everything, betting on him against your brother’s better judgment. You kept paying attention to Kie and how, since that day, she looked like the sweetest thing of the Cut, the fucking hell-side of the island. Her perfume lingered in the air even at the beach and made you feel sick; you saw her everywhere now, even when you looked at him. You saw the scene of them kissing. Feeling every word she would utter toward you in conversation like bullets on your skin. As it was torture how she was the greatest thing to ever exist – how everyone loved her, how she was so much better than you; poisoning everything that you do and still being the sweetest friend, making you despise how rotten your mind was; how jealous your eyes were.
You were bottled up to the brim.
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It started out simple enough. JJ had noticed everyone was doing their own thing at the Chateau; John B was absent for the time being, and you were alone on the couch, fidgeting, focused on whatever. It seemed like the perfect window to try and have an actual conversation about what’s been happening. He just didn’t expect it all to escalate so quickly. He didn’t expect you to have seen a part of his conversation with Kiara about his dad – but not everything, not the ending. – He hadn’t expected a conversation with you of all people to become a bomb with a short fuse that would explode into feelings tainted crimson. watching you bleed, making him bleed all over for you.
"Pogues don't mack on pogues, y/n! this shit freaked me out, your brother finding out freaked me out, yeah, even if he’s my best friend and I was afraid that-”
“Oh, so you go ‘round and fucking get with Kiara?! this is fucking bullshit, JJ! bullshit-
“Y/n, listen to me!”
You both were screaming, Kie’s eyes went wide as she tried calling your name as well but you had already started crying and couldn’t pay attention to anyone but him. At this point, as John B arrived at the Chateau and followed the noise, the people around you calming you down couldn’t be sure if they were afraid of his arrival or actually relieved. You kept interrupting each other. JJ pulled his hair and you pointed at yourself and to your side – as if Kiara was still there – strength marking red fingertips above your chest.
“‘Cause she’s not even a real pogue, right?! that’s why you got so confident about it, huh?”
it was almost as if the room went silent. Kiara decided to step outside to give you space; to take a moment to breathe in and take notice that you didn’t mean that. She was sure you didn’t. The rest of the group started to move aside as well although they could obviously still hear the commotion. Only you, John B, and JJ were in the living room. Your brother grabbed your shoulders from behind trying to ground you in any way he could, JJ growing nervous at the rate of the conversation and his friend’s presence.
You looked into his eyes and it was as if the blue in them was slowly fading, his eyebrows shot up and his mouth twisted in a clearly upset frown. As tears stained your cheeks, pride still overpowering your shame and feelings pent up, you started with more meaningless empty jabs, which, said angrily enough, would only make JJ bleed more as he fell silent himself.
“I really loved you, you know? You gotta laugh at the stupidity.. right? Come on you were going around doing that shit and I swear JJ I used to think was really smart… I was just a mesmerizing, paralyzing, fucked-up little thrill for you, tho… best friend’s little twin… ridiculous.”
At that, John B diverted his attention toward his friend with stern questioning eyes. JJ gulped.
“Look, man I just really need to talk to her and explain myself, ‘aight? I didn’t do what- Things are really not what they seem right now and I need her to-“
“Fuck, JJ, that’s bullshit! How can you not even flinch when you fucking lie like that! Things are just like what they seem you never even fucking loved me! You can’t love anyone, ‘cause that would mean you had a heart, right? But you’re a fucking Maybank! And I really tried to help you out all this time but now I know that I can’t!”
You were calming down, but exploded again, as the words left your mouth though, you started regretting them, the most deeply someone could ever regret anything maybe, worsening by the second as you saw the man you still loved muttering a small “no”, cracking at your words and shedding a tear. As Kiara heard what you said from the outside, she didn’t even think before bursting into the house again, turning every head in her direction.
“Y/n you’re spiraling and you’re saying things you’ll fucking regret! I kissed him, alright?! This is my fault. He stopped me, he loves you and he wouldn’t do that, okay?”
Though the words she was muttering were calming you down, she was calling you out, she was absolutely mad at what you said about JJ’s father because she had context and it was really fucked up. You felt small.
“Kiss?!” John B asked, his eyebrows shooting up. It wasn’t his intention to aggravate the situation but it was his little sister involved. JJ tried to start talking and explain the situation – which Kiara had left him to, but he could really only think about one thing.
“I- uh… did you mean it? What you said.”
JJ rarely expressed any sign of vulnerability, so as his voice broke, you felt like your heart did too, rushing to explain yourself now, and trying to get closer to him.
“I didn’t mean it, J, I really didn’t! God, I don’t even know how you can still even look at me right now I’m so sorry I was just so fucking broken at the idea of you che- of losing you, and I- I thought you had found someone else and I damn near started world war III right now and it’s just because I love you so much and I know you don’t deserve another fucked up demonstration of love, you deserve to feel so good, Jay, and I’m really sorry, I love you so so much, and I will understand if you never-“
You were interrupted by the shock of his own body against yours. The both of you were panting, crying, completely tired sighs leaving each mouth as if this was all going on for days and you were so hurt, yet needing each other so much. John B and Kiara were ‘okay’ enough with the newfound situation to leave you both to your own devices again, and you just clung to one another, sitting on the floor for what felt like hours until he decided to speak again.
“Y/n… I asked for us to take some time because it was becoming too real, y’know? What we felt for each other.. it was, touchable- it is. And when everyone else found out, and then John B… You know I don’t talk about this usually, not with anyone but you, but I didn’t want my dad to find out about us, to find out about you. I don’t want him knowing what you are for me I don’t want him knowing that laying a single finger on you can be worse than any punch he could throw my way. And I wanted to figure this out without you knowing about it because you’d say it’s fine, and I-“
As your mind processes his words, you start to think how in the world you got a man whose the first concern about a monster of a father would be you. How could you deserve it, especially after what you had insinuated about him. “It is! It’s fine, honey, we can-“
“No, y/n it’s not fine because I don’t ever want you to even worry your pretty little head about a situation like that, y’know? And It’s not fine because the pogues are my family and the love I feel for you, if anything would happen to you because of him I’ll be damned, damned, and in jail for murder, you can trust me I will.”
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. All you could do was keep the hold you had on each other, slightly caressing his head.
“Since I didn’t want you to know about it, I went to Kie, that night of the Kegger, and she tried to help me and she said she loved me and I did too but then she kissed me and I assume it’s what you saw but I did step back, I promise! I told her off… Y/n I told your brother that if I intentionally hurt you, if I fucked up with you like this then that might as well be the last thing I did in my life and I mean it. I love you so much, little Routledge, and I’m all in now. We can figure shit out as we go but as long as we have each other, okay?”
As JJ spoke, he held your hands, reassuring you at the end. Hours had passed ever since you started talking, so when the pogues felt everything was calmer they decided to go back in the house slowly – figure out how you were, what were the plans for the night.
“Do you really forgive me for what I said? I will understand, J, I’m so, so sorry, I love you so much” You touched your forehead with his, and JJ sighed, shaking his head slightly. “I love you. I love you, y/n… can’t be without you.”
And as you both kissed each other as if you were making up for ages lost, Sarah smiled at the corner of the room, John B interrupting the show. “Come on with the PDA, love birds… What are we doing tonight, then?” He half-heartedly scolded as you got up, hand glued to the blonde's. You let out a big sigh again, before brushing them off with an honest, but half-assed excuse, already making the way to your room.
“I mean, you could go to Heyward’s… I think we’ll just lie down a bit.. ‘twas kinda draining…” you saw a bunch of side smiles as the group left through the door, Sarah grinned, letting out a puff of air through her nose, and when Pope went to close the door, he screamed back in the direction of your room, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” which earned a scream back from an already lying down JJ, “might as well not do anything!” and for the first time in a while, you laughed, making your way to lie on top of him, his embrace being all you needed.
“You know… we could go out to surf tomorrow,” he offered, still missing the sight of a happy you, your bikini, and the ocean.
“First thing in the morning.” You answered.
413 notes · View notes
todayisawthewhxlewxrld · 11 months
Text
!"are we still friends?" kiss w/ inumaki!
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prompt// heartbeat getting faster with every passing second, their hands on your waist, one coming up to your jaw, whispering your name softly, before just going for it. coming absolutely undone as your hand reaches to tug on their hair (prompt from @jasminesfury)
pairing// toge inumaki x gn!reader
word count// 1.8k
contents// jujutsu high is a college, inumaki communicates through sticky notes, inumaki uses his cursed technique to get what he wants, ooc inumaki ?
notes// these kissing prompts r too good not to use sorry not sorry! also yes him using his cursed technique was inspired by that one anon... also any information i say about a character's likes? or like favorite food, i get from jjk fandom wiki dont come for me if its not right ok baiiii <3
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You and Inumaki are best friends— or were. Right now, he’s not quite sure where the two of you stand considering how you’ve been acting towards him lately. He and, quite frankly, anyone with eyes could see how uninterested you were acting toward him. You avoided his touch, kept conversations short, avoided eye contact, hell, you tried to avoid him all together—you were ignoring him. It wasn’t like you were doing it on purpose, though! …Okay, you definitely were, but you also definitely had a good reason to. The whole reason this started was because of last week.
You and Inumaki are best friends; you’d obviously take any chance you could to hang out with him, and you thought that was the only reason why—because he’s your best friend—but that day you quickly learned that was not the case. You and Inumaki sat under a tree in a random park. When the weather was nice and your schedules aligned, the two of you would often have picnics together. On these picnics, you two had this unspoken agreement of bringing each other food; he’d bring you what you liked or what he thought you’d like, and you’d do the same for him. You watch him intently as he places all the food he got for you near you, and you smile when he’s finished and is staring at you patiently, waiting for you to do the same.
You ignore his gaze and what he wants, instead tilting your head at him and asking, “What’s your favorite food?”
Inumaki’s face drops, and a pout replaces his previous faint smile as he pulls out a sticky note pad and scribbles, “Are you joking?”
You commit to the bit. “No, I’m serious! What’s your favorite food?”
You watch him fervently rip that note off to write on another one, “Wait, you seriously don’t know?”
The way he’s staring at you makes you relent. “Just humor me for a second Inumaki?” you plead with a soft smile, reassuring him that it’ll be worth it.
He stares at you curiously before nodding and writing, “Tuna mayo onigiri.”
You hum with a nod. “Right, thought so,” you say. “Guess what I have!”
Inumaki’s eyes light up as he excitedly taps his finger against the words he just wrote. His reaction doesn’t take you by surprise; you’ve seen him react like this plenty of times before. It’s what you love about him—how excited and happy he gets about things and isn’t afraid to show it—but something is different. The sun is shining on his face perfectly; it gleams off his eyes, and the way the wind slowly blows past and the trees and flowers behind him sway softly with his hair has you completely mesmerized. So mesmerized, in fact, that Inumaki had to practically shove the notepad in your face for you to even realize you were staring.
You shake your head as if shaking yourself out of your trance, silently acknowledging to yourself that it was odd, but you digress. “Sorry! But yes, I do have that for you!”
He drops the notepad and holds out his hand expectingly, and you giggle as you place the onigiri in his hand. He bows his head slightly at you to say thank you before he digs in, and you smile warmly at him.
“I’ve been trying to get it for you the past few picnics, but they were always out,” you say, frowning. “But today I went early, and they actually had some!”
He acknowledges you with a glance, and your heart skips a beat just from the brief moment that your eyes meet. You try to ignore it, though. You try to ignore how you can’t keep your eyes off him, the butterflies in your stomach, and how warm you feel. Maybe you’re getting sick? Yeah, that must be it. You don’t know how long you got distracted by simply admiring him, but by the time you came back to reality, he was done with his food and writing something on his sticky notes.
He holds up the notepad, asking, “Are you okay?”
You scoff slightly. “Of course I’m okay.”
He frowns at you before scribbling, “You haven’t touched any of your food.”
You look down at the food before returning your gaze to him and awkwardly smiling. “Ah yeah, just not all that hungry, Inumaki...”
You watch him study your face quickly before writing, "Are you sick?” He doesn't give you time to reply before placing the back of his hand on your forehead, and if you weren't already flustered before, you most definitely are now. You're too shocked by his actions to say anything, but it doesn’t matter when he's already scribbling a new sentence. “You feel warm.”
“I'm sure it's nothing, Inumaki,” you try to reassure.
He hands you a sticky note that says, “We should get you back to your dorm and stop for medicine on the way,” before beginning to pack up the left-over food.
You roll your eyes and place your hand over his to stop him, and the way he looks up at you has your brain going blank, so much so that he has to shoot you a questionable look in order for you to realize what you were doing.
You quickly remove your hand from his and clear your throat. “It’s fine, I promise. I probably just have to sleep it off, okay?”
Inumaki doesn't bother writing anything down and instead just stares at you blankly.
“If I'm still ‘sick’ by tomorrow, we can go get medicine, okay?”
He nods, ultimately accepting that answer, but he wishes he didn't because tomorrow never came. You didn't die, obviously, but you might as well have. You started ignoring him the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that, and... you get the point.
Inumaki has no idea what he did; he tried to ‘talk’ to you the best he could. He’d leave you sticky notes, and you would hardly acknowledge them or him. Did he do something wrong? He knows most people found him intimidating at first because of his cursed technique and were hesitant around him, but you never were, so why are you acting like it now? Maybe he came off too strongly; maybe you got suffocated being his only friend—well, not his only friend, but his closest friend; maybe you just had enough. Inumaki told himself he was just going to let whatever happens happen, but he couldn’t. So he said he'd find you after class and corner you if he really had to; you’re already ignoring him; what's the worst that could happen after that? But he couldn’t wait till after class tomorrow; he couldn't sleep; he just laid in bed anxiously, which is why he now finds himself standing at your door. He doesn’t think twice about knocking; he wants—no, he needs—to know why you're ignoring him.
You're surprised to see him there, and his twisted-up face makes your heart drop. You're not sure if he's worried, angry, or both.
“Inumaki, hey.” You’re afraid to look at him for too long, fearful that he’ll look back and figure out your feelings for him, so you leave the door open and start walking away. “Come in.”
He does so, shutting the door behind him. You’re a few feet away from him, so he tries to close the distance between you two, only for you to take the same number of steps back. Inumaki frowns and pulls out his sticky notes.
“Are we still friends?”
No, because you’d rather be more—if it isn't obvious by now, the entire reason you’ve been ignoring him is because you've finally realized how deeply in love with him you are.
You avoid his gaze and zero in on your floor instead, nervously laughing. “Of course, Inumaki, why wouldn't we be?”
You hear him scribble something down before the sticky pad shows up in your field of vision. “You’ve been ignoring me.”
You push his hand out of your vision. "No, I haven't.”
You hear more scribbling before one of his hands grabs your chin and lifts your head up to face him. Your eyes fluttered at the action, and you hope to god he didn't notice. He shakes the notepad in his other hand to draw your attention to it. “Yes, you have.”
You can't lie to him when it's like he's staring straight into your soul. “Okay, fine, maybe.”
Though you wish you did when his face drops and he slowly lets go of your jaw to write, “Why?”
You take a step back, and he takes one forward. “It doesn’t matter.”
He frowns and shakes his notepad slightly as if to emphasize his point, “Yes, it does.”
“It doesn't because I'm gonna stop ignoring you, okay?”
“But why were you ignoring me?” he scribbles frantically.
You sigh. “Just drop it, Inumaki, please?”
He shakes his head.
“Inumaki, just forget about it, and we can go back to normal, okay?”
He narrows his eyes at you and writes, “Just tell me! I won't get mad; I just want to know why.”
“Inumaki, seriously drop it,” you say as you turn to walk away, but you don't get far before you hear a clatter of Inumaki’s things hitting the floor, and he grabs your wrist, pulling you into him. He has your wrist to his chest, and your other hand is instinctively pressing against him, while his other hand is on your waist. You grow flustered by how you two are body-to-body, with no space to be found between the two of you, and you look at him wide-eyed, both of your breathing becoming heavier with each passing second. You're about to push yourself off of him or tell him to let go of you, but any thought of doing something vanishes the minute you see him start to open his mouth.
“Tell me,” he says softly yet firmly.
You can't even attempt to fight against his command as the words "I like you" pour out of your mouth against your will.
The minute the words leave your mouth, you go wide-eyed in shock from your confession, and from how he used his technique on you, he’s equally as wide-eyed. You try to yank your wrist free from his hold, but he has an iron grip on you no matter how hard you struggle.
You begin to murmur nervously, your voice trembling with embarrassment, "Inumaki-"
But your sentence is quickly cut short when he leans in. He hesitates for a moment before just going for it and kissing you. You don't kiss back at first in shock, but once you grasp what's going on, you quickly melt into the kiss, practically turning into liquid with the way your legs try to give out on you. You quickly tangle your free hand in his hair; he releases his grip on your wrist and places that hand on your waist as well, while you cradle his face with your newly freed hand. You two stand there kissing and holding each other for what seems like forever before he finally pulls away, both of you nearly panting.
“So, uh, does this mean we’re not friends or-“
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© LITTLEXBIMBO
3K notes · View notes
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I wanted to request a Lucifer (hazbin) x duck demon reader, or just a Lucifer x Toy maker reader. I think it would be neat, this is my first time requesting anything, even on tumblr entirely and I have had tumblr for years xD also I’ve been wanting to make a tumblr like yours writing short stories for people! You’ve inspired me to think about it. Any advice or tips to start out? I love your writing <3
Oooo this is cool! I'm going to make the reader both a duck demon and toymaker if that's okay.
Awwwww! I'm honored to be your first request anon!!! Thank you for the kind words! I'll put the advice/tips at the end of the oneshot of the story for you!
Warnings: fluff?
Lucifer x Duck!ToyMaker!Reader
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-When Lucifer first laid eyes on you and realized you are a duck, he freaked the heck out.
-Anytime he talked with you, he'd stumble over his words and become a blushy mess.
-He'll compliment your feathers or try and flirt with you but immediately backtracks over fear of rejection.
-He couldn't help but stare at all of your majestic duck-ness.
-Then he found out you're a toymaker too?!?! He is over the moon!
-You caught onto his interest of you pretty quick. If there is one thing this guy isn't, it's subtle.
-You figured you could throw him a bone and flirt back in your own special way- Toymaking!
---
You've been in your workshop day and night, fixing up a special gift for your favorite fallen angel.
You thought it would be cute to make him a duck that could actually fly. His only breathe fire to your knowledge so you thought he would appreciate a duck that could soar alongside him in the sky.
After you had finished engineering the flying mechanism of the duck and its carving, you began to paint it a happy yellow color. Then put two hearts on it's cheeks.
You thought it would be cute to give it a little top hat and bowtie like Lucifers so you did just that. Finally, you carved letters into the ducks right foot, Luci, punctuated with a heart.
The only thing left to do now was to give him this silly little duck.
--
You extended the box out to your fun-sized friend, or perhaps future more-than-friend.
He looks up at you with the most precious look, "I- Is- Is this for me?"
His voice was small, disbelieving. You nod with a smile. He takes the box gently, as if he was scared it would break whatever is in there.
The ribbon unravels and the box opens, revealing your heartfelt gift. The sin of pride does his best to hold back a grateful sob. He could see the work and love that you put into this.
"T-Thank you so much!" his voice cracked as he jumped to hug you.
You gave him a squeeze back, "Do you want to see what it can do?"
His nods eagerly.
You put the duck in your hand and crank the wind up before throwing the duck in the air. It flies around Lucifer for a few seconds before landing on his top hat.
Lucifer blinks, processing what just happened.
What just happened is that he fell for you.
He grabs your hands and looks straight into your eyes, "I love you."
With that, you lean down to kiss the beautiful man in front of you.
...
---
Advice for Starting Out!
Something I struggled with for a while was finding motivation to start writing and being nervous that people wouldn't like my writing.
For motivation, what works for me is sit down and choose either an ask or an idea I have to write. After I pick something I try and write for at least 15 minutes and see if it gets my creative juices working.
If it doesn't, I look at other fan content or look at the show or game I'm writing for to be inspired.
Also helps to write any ideas that randomly pop into your head, for example:
I wonder how Lucifer would react to reader playing with his hair.
Then you save that idea for whenever you want to write it.
For being nervous I affirm to myself that I write because it makes me happy and if I don't step out of my comfort zone I can't grow.
I know that nothing is for everyone because we are all vastly different humans, therefore I will write what I like and if someone else likes it too then that's also great!
If you have an ask or a prompt that you don't really like but also aren't opposed to, try to put your own spin on it so it feels more personal to you.
Despite that, make sure to have a list of boundaries or rules you have for asks so that you won't get asks that you don't want to write or aren't comfortable writing. It's perfectly fine to say no to people. Remember that!
Add tags and multiple variations of the tag if you want traffic on your posts as well as maybe putting in a picture of a character or of something pertaining to the character for aesthetic purposes if you want.
A lot of writers listen to music that gives them the same feels as the content they write so it helps them focus.
Remember all of these can depend on you, like maybe you don't like to listen music or it throws you off. Maybe you could light a candle that you reminds you of what your writing. Stuff like that you know? (I hope that makes sense.)
Make sure you don't burn yourself out as well by taking breaks and doing other things you enjoy so that you can better come to appreciate your own writing.
Sorry if this was a lot of info at once 😅
If you have any other specific things you want to know about starting out let me know anon! And if you do end up making a blog tag me so I can find you, I would love to see how you grow in your writing!
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Oh, you wanna play psycho killer? (Ghostface! Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader x Ghostface! Peter B Parker) Part 1
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RAAAAA! Excited about this one! Based off this post. Inspired by this drawing from Andalusia_Lu on Tiktok. Not proofread. Tbh I’m kinda nervous about this one but…Enjoy! Also in this story MJ and Peter are just friends. This is probably the darkest think I’ve written.
(Y/N) - Your name.
NSFW!!, Cursing, use of alcohol, death, murder, yandere behavior, Reader has a bf who does die, violence, blood, said reader’s bf calls her derogatory remarks behind her back, religious imagery(I think???), stalking, male masturbation, invasion of privacy, reader being drugged, panty stealing, stalking, implied kidnapping, gore, cameras being placed in readers home without their knowledge, it’s a horror one shot so… you know what you’re walking into. Dead Dove Do not eat, MDNI!
Word count: 2.5k
Part 2
Masterlist
October 31st, Halloween night. Also know as the night that gives college students an excuse to get fucked up while in a shit quality costume that cost 50 bucks at spirit Halloween.
That little rule you are not exempt from, that’s how you found yourself in a random college frat party at NYU, a bottle of beer in one hand, and your boyfriend’s in the other as you drag him through the crowd so you both can dance. The alcohol in your system made your whole body relaxed and your cheeks glow with a dash of red over them, your eyes half-lidded and your smile wide as you looked up at Daniel while Promiscuous from Nelly Furtado blasted through the house. You looked like an angel straight from heaven, although that might be due to your customer, being dressed up as Juliet from the 1996 movie, while your boyfriend was clattered in armor as Romeo. The costumes being your idea after having rewatched the movie a few weeks ago.
You both had lost the rest of your group in the crowd, Jess and MJ had said they were going to the kitchen while Miguel and Peter had said they were going outside to get fresh air but you haven’t seen them since, you wouldn't have extremely worried, if it wasn’t for the reason sightings of the ghostface killer that had been popping up on the news though. Sure maybe going to a party wasn’t the best idea either but you figured you would have been fine since you were going in a group, I mean, what wouldn’t you be okay? It’s not like an actual serial killer goes after a group of young adults who are all drunk right? But now you’ve lost 4 out of 6 people in said group. But maybe in the small chance you do get targeted, you should be able to stand a chance since your Daniel was always in the gym with Miguel, so he was pretty jacked (not as jacked as Miguel though but you’ll never say that out loud).
One song turned to two then to three, just like the beers in Daniel’s hand, you had slowed down so you could at least be sober enough to order a Lyft for when the night was over. Eventually you were whisked away from your boyfriend by MJ and Jess, thankful that they were still at the party and nothing happened to them.
“Hey, have you guys seen Peter or Miguel?” You shouted over the music after a while, Jess just shrugged, before MJ answered.
“They texted me that they found Daniel and he’s like, fucked up apparently.”
“Please!”
Stab.
“I don’t want to die! Please stop!”
Stab.
“I’ll give anything! Just don’t kill me!”
The begs and pleads become more desperate and sloppy with every second, the words slurring more together from the alcohol and the crimson red liquid dribbling out of Daniel's mouth. The sight was almost enough to make the two men feel pity. Almost.
“Anything?” The shorter one asked with an agonizingly slow head tilt, his voice altered from the voice changer attached to the plastic mask, signaling for the other to stop plugging the knife into their victim’s stomach. Despite not liking being told what to do, he dropped Daniel on the floor with a snarl. Daniel quickly retracted into a small ball, shaking arms going to cover his bloody wound with a groan and whimper.
“We want (Y/N).” If it weren't for him being in excruciating pain and bleeding out, Daniel would have thought they were joking, but the tone in which the words were spoken made his blood that was spilling out from his stomach and mouth run cold.
“W-what?” He asked as he tried to keep his breathing from becoming shallow and his head from becoming too dizzy, but he was failing miserably.
“You heard us. We. Want. (Y/N).” The larger one spoke this time. How badly, he wanted to emphasize each word with another stab, the knife in his hands twitched a bit as he tightened his grip on the black handle. He was itching for an excuse, but he’ll refrain.
For now.
Maybe it was the way he responded to a stressful situation, or maybe it was the lack of blood finally affecting his brain, but Daniel had the nerve to laugh. Fucking laugh. The laugh was breathy, and in between coughs and groans, causing Miguel and Peter to look at their prey like he was the crazy one. Rage filled their bodies when Daniel finally composed himself enough to talk again.
“Y-you can’t be serious? …Right? You-you’re gonna kill-kill me over some bitch?”
How fucking dare he.
How dare he speak about you like you were some random skank, like you were a pile of dirt. You were a fucking goddess, Miguel and Peter knew that, because they worshipped you like one. They didn’t see what you saw in Daniel, he didn’t deserve you, no one did, except Miguel and Peter, they would treat you better than any other man that roamed this stupid planet, and especially far better then the sorry excuse of a boyfriend that they had on the ground like he was a wounded animal.
For someone who was about to die, he sure had a lot of nerve.
He didn’t love you like they did, he didn’t know your every move like they did. They were like your real life guardian angels, always following behind you to make sure no one would harm so much as a hair on your pretty little head, and how lucky were they, that you were juuust oblivious enough that you don’t notice them, just enough to brush of your rummaged trash as raccoons, just enough that you didn’t noticed when a pair or two of your dirty panties go missing, you had too many to keep track of all of them anyways. Never knowing that one of the two would sneak into your apartment while you were asleep to grab them from your hamper, no matter which boy had decided to embark on their mission, both of them had to fight against the struggle to not stay and watch you sleep, fighting the urge to release their painful hard members and stroke while watching you sleep. They’d be lying to themselves if they said they haven’t lost the battle at least once before, biting into their free hand to stop any moans from escaping and waking you up, while they fist fuck their cocks with the other, but can you blame them?
They just loved you so much and you loved them too, you just haven’t realized it yet. How could you when that pest of a boyfriend of yours was pumping your head full of false thoughts? He didn’t love you like Peter and Miguel did. Sure Daniel might seem like he loved you so much, going as far as to get you flowers and gifts from time to time, but Miguel and Peter’s gifts they would give you were so much better, because these gifts were all given to you with the same purpose. To help them watch over you, make sure you were safe, strategically planning to make sure to eventually fill your entire home with cameras right under your adorable nose. The teddy bear that sits on your bed and the light up mirror over your bathroom sink were first of course.
Peter couldn’t help himself, with all of his force, he kicked Daniel right in the balls, causing him to curl up more in pain. Miguel was going to do the same when his phone pinged in his pocket, he quickly took it out and checked it, your name filling his screen made his heart skip a beat.
“It’s (Y/N). She’s asking where we are, and wants us to meet her at her apartment after she drops off Jess and MJ in 15 minutes.” Miguel mumbled as he looked down at his phone, before looking up at Peter then down at their prey on the ground. “She probably thinks we’re still with him, what should we do with him?”
Peter’s eyes followed Miguel’s gaze down to the half- conscious Daniel, silent as if thinking about what to say, or more likely what to do with him.
“We could leave him here for dead?” Peter suggested, but Miguel shook his head at the thought, too risky, they couldn’t have the chance of him being found by someone and taken to the hospital, that could ruin everything.
“You both… ar-are fucking psychotic! Killing me over some-some bitch who doesn’t eve-even give good fucking… fucking head!” Daniel yelled between coughs, more blood falling from his blue-turning lips, he looked like he had seen a ghost due to how pale he was becoming from the blood lost, and now he’s gonna become one. Miguel’s phone buzzed again, this time you only sent a single question mark, looking down at his phone.
“I want you to know that if I wasn’t about to be late to see you, I would beat this guy bloody, for the way he talks about you.” Miguel said out loud as if you could actually hear him, as if you were actually here to hear how true those words were, but instead Miguel raised his knife with one hand and grabbed Daniel’s hair with the other. Enjoying the way the Dani’s eyes widened in fear, his weak arms flailed around as he tried to fight the larger man off of him, but it was no use. “Guess I’ll just have to cut straight to the point.” He said, the smirk evident threw his altered voice before putting his knife against Daniel’s throat and slashing it open. Watching whatever life that was left in him drain from his eyes.
Peter being the skilled photographer he was, took a selfie of the two with their slayed animal, now it’s time to go claim their trophy.
Something was off.
Like seriously off, ever since Peter and Miguel disappeared at the party neither of them had answered their phone, and as soon Dani disappeared neither had he. Maybe the party wasn’t the best idea in retrospect, you let out a sigh as you entered your apartment, and collapsed on your couch, wanting to try and calm your racing thoughts a bit before you changed out of your costume. Closing your eyes, and taking in a deep breath.
Your phone started to ring.
Usually, you didn’t answer calls from people who weren’t already in your contacts, so the “blocked number” would normally set off red flags, but maybe the alcohol was still making your brain foggy, because without thinking you answer the call and put your phone to your ear.
“Hello?”
No answer.
You left out a huff and tried again.
“Hellooo?”
When you didn’t get an answer again you rolled your eyes.
“I think you got the wrong numb-“
“Wanna play a game?”
“I’m-I’m sorry?”
“I said, wanna play a game?”
“Um no thanks. I'm hanging up now.”
“Hang up and you won’t get to see your special surprise though.” Oddly enough, you grew a bit curious.
“Wha..what do I have to do?” You asked.
“It’s simple, We’re gonna play a small game of hot and cold.” You had a feeling this wasn’t a good idea, maybe you shouldn’t answer the call. “Right now you’re cold.”
Without another word, you slowly got up, and made your way down the hall, your floorboard creaking underneath your heels.
“Warmer.”
Your heart begins to beat in your ears, you bring a shaky hand up to the doorknob of your bathroom, you go to open the door when the voice from the other end of the phone spoke again.
“Colder.”
You quickly bring your hand back down to your side and let your heavy footsteps make your way into your bedroom.
“Hotter.”
You swallowed the thick lump of saliva down your throat as you made your way to the left side room, your eyes dead set on your closet.
“Hotter.”
You closed the gap between you and the closet, and brought your hand to the handle, mentally preparing yourself for whatever hides before the wooden doors.
“You're on fucking fire baby.”
Your hand drew back the door, the sight made you let out a blood curdling scream, almost dropping your phone in the process. Your Daniel, dead, sitting on the closet floor, gutted out like a fish. The voice on the other end of the phone let out a sly chuckle before speaking once again.
“Sorry about your boyfriend, guess all those muscles didn’t help much.” He mocked before the call went dead, and you finally released your phone, it falling to the floor, as your body began to shake and your breathing became rapid.
You let out a sob and began to stumble away from the mangled corpse that you once called your boyfriend, only for your back to meet with a what felt like a wall of muscle, you quickly look up over your shoulder, being met with the infamous ghostface mask that has been plastered all over the news.
“What’s the matter (Y/N)? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The altered voice taunted. No, no, no,no. This cannot be happening. You shook your head as another sob left your lips stumbling away from the masked killer and into the hallway, expecting him to follow after you, but instead he just watched you. If you were thinking straight. You’d probably realized that this was a trap, but you weren’t thinking straight, as you finally reached the front door, you went to unlock the door and leave your apartment, but before you even stepped foot out of the door a large hand came and grabbed you around your waist. You take in a deep breath and open your mouth to scream, but instead a white cloth came and covered your nose and mouth, the strong smell of chemicals quickly filling your lungs.
“Surprised (Y/N).” This voice was a bit deeper, then the one from your bedroom, your head became dizzy as you eyes fluttered, your vision was beginning to blacken, before you were fully go under, you saw the man holding you still was a lot larger than the other one, it clicked, there were two of them.
You black out.
“She out?” Peter asked Miguel as he slipped off his mask, Miguel following suit.
“Like a light.” Miguel smirks as he goes to pick you up bridal style, your body limply laying in his arms. The two couldn’t help but smile as they watched your sleeping form, so peaceful looking, like an Angel. Their angel. Their plan played out just as they wanted, you were theirs now, and theirs alone. No one could come in the way of you three anymore, all they had to do now was make sure you wouldn’t leave them. But how would you do that if you didn’t know where you were? You couldn’t. That’s why Miguel gently placed you in the backseat of Peter’s car, before getting into the passenger’s seat. They were going to make sure you were far, far away from your old life, so you could start your new one with your lovesick killers.
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dark-fics-4-you · 8 months
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Ahhh you knocked it out of the park!!! Thank you for doing my request (somno step bro Rafe). Would love if you did more or some virginity loss or something :) I feel like reader would catch Rafe being hard around her accidentally and get innocently curious
Saving the spicy stuff for a main chapters but I was inspired by this ask so here’s a lil blurb 😏
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Rafe sat on the couch, scrolling through your instagram feed. Pic after pic of you at parties, past halloween costumes that were much too skimpy for you to be posting for just anyone to see, and photos of you posing with friends filled your profile.
He paused on a beach pic that you had posted a few weeks ago. Sarah was an excellent photographer, and you two frequently did little photoshoots together for each other.
You were in the sand, lying on your back on a blue beach towel, propped up by your elbows with your legs stretched out. The white bikini you were wearing barely covered anything, and Rafe could see your hardened nipples poking through the thin material.
His tongue darted between his lips, pants tightening as he grew hard. Rafe took a screenshot, saving the pic to his folder of his favorite pictures of you.
When he heard the door open behind him, he quickly pocketed his phone, glancing over his shoulder to see you bouncing in with a grin.
“Hey Rafey, I was looking for you!”
“C’mere bunny.” He gestured for you to come closer.
He wasn’t expecting you to climb into his lap for a hug.
You threw your legs over his lap, wrapping your arms around his chest and squeezing him in a hug.
Rafe tensed, trying to think about anything other than his adorable lil step sis sitting in his lap. Despite his efforts, he could feel himself getting harder as you squirmed.
“Do you think we could make a liquor run soon? I have that party with Sarah and John B and the other guys tonight!” You were clearly excited about the get together, a little too excited for Rafe’s comfort.
“You’re actually going to that?” Rafe asked in annoyance, trying to focus on something other than your bare thighs so close to him.
“I mean yeah, they’re my friends! I like hanging out with John B, Pope, Kie, and JJ!”
At the mention of JJ’s name, Rafe’s jaw tightened, jealously flashing through him.
He knew that JJ was just like all the other Pogues. No good trash from the Cut, who would steal and lie to get what they want. But Rafe’s qualms with JJ went beyond just Kook vs Pogue war.
Rafe knew that JJ liked you. It’s not like he had to be an genius to notice, he had seen JJ staring at you so many times that he had grown accustomed to hating the other blond even more than the rest of the Pogues.
JJ was nothing but bad news. The type of guy that slept around and broke new girl’s hearts weekly. The type of guy who would eat you alive if given the chance.
And the thought of JJ putting his hands on you, or even thinking about putting his hands on you, made Rafe want to explode with rage.
“You’ve been hanging around those pogues a lot recently,” Rafe spat out, jaw clenching.
“Ugh lighten up, Rafey. I’m here now, aren’t I?” You asked in annoyance as you rolled your eyes, shifting on his lap.
Rafe bit back a groan at the motion, passing it off as a cough.
“Damn Rafe, you gotta stop smoking, it’s already affecting your lungs,” you teased lightly, completely unaware of what he was hiding from you.
“Mm, hmm, you’re right bunny,” he said, distracted, mind somewhere much different than yours.
Suddenly, he remembered your plans for the night, and he was overwhelmed with the desire to keep you from going out, “you should stay in tonight, Y/N/N. We can watch a movie, one of your favorites. Plus I’ll make you all the drinks you want.”
“Mmm,” you considered his offer for a moment before making up your mind with an excited smile. “Okay! That sounds nice!”
When you shifted again, you noticed something poking at your ass.
“Rafeyy, do you have something in your pocket?”
“Oh uh, yeah, just my phone, Y/N/N,” Rafe lied.
And like the dumb, trusting little sister you were, you believed him.
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xtreklx · 8 months
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Bumpin' ~ Raphael x reader
One-shot: bayverse Raphael x reader
Word count: 1k
Warnings: SFW, fluff, slightly mature themes (rated 17+, see my masterlist for disclaimer)
A/N: a self-indulging one-shot I thought up for Raphie boy. thanks for reading!
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__________
"Y/N, I'm boooooooored."
Michelangelo let out a long, drawn-out sigh and turned to look at you. You were both strewn about the living room of the lair, him on the floor and you on the couch. This time was normally used for your weekly Mortal Kombat sesh, but Donatello had shut off the lair's power to make a repair, so the two of you were forced to find an alternative activity. Which sounded like a simple task, but had since proven the opposite.
You mimicked your friend's long-drawn out sigh with a smirk on your face. "Yeah, I bet Don decided on purpose to do this right now," you replied. "Not that I blame him, we do get pretty loud when we game." You were laying on the couch as you spoke, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone's home screen and hoping that an app or notification would give you some sort of inspiration.
You thought for a moment as Mikey continued his mock sighs, which were rising in both volume and drama, before turning to him with an idea. "Hey Mikey, do you use Spotify to listen to music?" He looked to you again before pulling out his phone. "Yeah, team Spotify all the way! Why?"
You sat up with a new invigoration. "We should create a blended playlist!" You exclaimed, opening the app on your phone. "We can compare our music tastes and see what we have in common, it'll be fun!" Mikey sat up from his spot on the floor and handed you his phone with the Spotify app open. "Hell yeah, girl! I'm always in the mood to bump some tunes! Lemme go get my speaker." And with that, he took off to his room.
You got to work with both of your phones in your hand. When he returned, you hit shuffle on your blended playlist and the music started flowing from the speaker. You moved to sit next to him on the floor.
"When I look at the playlist story, it says we have a 56% music match." "Okaaaaaaay, that's not too bad," Mikey replied. "Where do we match up, dudette?" You tapped the screen again, showing him. "Our number one match is Tyler the Creator. That makes sense, I listen to him a lot!" "No way, me too!" Mikey exclaimed. "He's definitely one of my fave artists."
The two of you began chatting away and singing along to songs as they came up, while unknowingly summoning a third party.
"Poor Don'll never get the quiet time he wants," Raphael spoke, shaking his head as he walked into the living room from the dojo. His gruff voice startled you from behind and your heart rate increased, as it often did around the short-tempered brother. You had had a crush on him for a few months now, but were far too intimidated and nervous to make a move, so it went unaddressed. The turtle in question strolled over and plopped down on the couch, looking down at you both on the floor. "What're you two idiots doing, anyway?"
"We're just bumpin' some tunes, bro!" Mikey called, shaking his head to the beat of the song playing. "We're comparing our music tastes!" You excitedly said. "And actually, we're using a very technical algorithm, so this is in the name of science! Donnie couldn't argue with that," you grinned up to the turtle in red. Raph rolled his eyes but let a small smirk grace his features in return. Dork.
"Alright dollface. Since it's so impressive, show me how it works."
You explained the process to him as Mikey continued to jam to the music playing from his speaker. Raph listened and examined the blended playlist you had created. "Hmm... Y/N, see what ours would look like," he pondered, reaching for his phone. Again, your heart sped up, but you breathed out an "O-okay" and took his phone from him. As you tapped the screen, you ignored Mikey wiggling his brows at you in your peripheral vision, knowing about your feelings toward his brother.
When you finished, you gasped slightly, and turned the screen to Raph. "We're at 84%!!!" you squealed, showing him where your favorite artists intertwined. You scrolled through the playlist to see a mix of heavy metal, grunge, classic rock, R&B and rap. Tyler the Creator was also listed as one of your top matching artists.
"No way," the brute scoffed, leaning towards you so that he could look over your shoulder at your blended playlist. You both pointed out which songs were your favorite and why, and also chatted about the favorite artists you had in common. Your nerves eased as you connected with him, your heart thrumming at the realization that he was being... kind of vulnerable with you. You were getting to see a part of Raph that he had never shown you before.
All of the sudden, the song changed to 'Dogtooth' by Tyler the Creator, and Mikey jumped up, hollering. You gasped with joy, and you both looked to each other with excitement. "I love this song!!!" You both yelled, and then: "JINX!" You laughed hard as Mikey ran from the living room, yelling the lyrics at the top of his lungs, 100% looking to annoy his other older brothers.
As your laughing ceased and you turned back to Raph, you took in a quick breath as you realized how close you two were leaning in before the outburst. You were still on the floor, but had scooted towards his spot on the couch until you were practically leaning on his lap. You could feel his warm breath brush your face, and he got an amused look on his face as he gazed at you.
Your eyes widened naturally with the proximity, and after a moment of silence and staring at each other, you opened your mouth you speak. But before you could, Raph began rapping along to the song playing from Mikey's speaker, a growing smirk on his face and a unique glint in his hazel eyes as he watched you.
"She could ride my face, I don't want nothin' in return. Except for some her time and all her love, that's my concern. I'm tryna buy my neighbor's house..."
The eye contact he was giving you in this moment could only be described one way: heavy. And your face turned beet red. The closeness, his gaze, his smirk, the words- it was all too much for your poor heart to take.
"R-raph, w-what are you doing?"
"I'm just bumpin' some tunes, dollface."
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angelfic · 2 years
Text
— OOPS, I LOVE YOU. S.H.
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pairing: steve harrington x f!reader
summary: the 4 times you’re just best friends and the 1 time you’re not. alternatively, 5 things never to do with someone unless you want to fall in love.
warnings: kissing, swearing, mentions of drinking, throwing up from drinking, pretty much pg-13 fluff otherwise
author’s note: inspired by a tiktok sent to me by my lovely anon who is the whole reason I wrote this little thing until 5am in the morning lol, enjoy and let me know what u think as always <3
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1. when he does that reverse driving thing.
Listen. You at least have the decency to feel a little bad about it. But you can’t help it! Steve may be your best friend, but damn it, you are not immune to the one hand on the steering wheel, one arm on your seat while reversing the car thing that instantly makes any guy more attractive.
A lot more attractive.
So attractive that you momentarily forget the reason he’s driving in the first place, which is to get the kids to the new arcade that opened up just on the outskirts of Hawkins. And you’re supposed to be giving him directions.
Feeling someone’s eyes on you, you turn a little to the back and find Dustin, squished between Lucas and Will, with a shit-eating grin on his face as his gaze flickers from you to Steve. You furrow your brows in a false display of confusion before turning back to your map, as though you don’t know that all the kids believe you and your best friend are harbouring feelings for each other.
Definitely not true, obviously.
You don’t even notice that the map is about to rip at the corners from your grip as you try and ignore the kids whispering in the back. That is until you feel a finger gently prodding your arm and you realise Steve has been asking you a question.
“What?” you ask, stupidly. And a little breathlessly, because there is absolutely no reason for Steve to be smiling like that. “Did you say something?”
“Just wondering if it’s straight ahead or left here,” he gestures in front to the road and you frantically search the map for where you lost your place. Definitely not helped by the whispering in the back getting louder. “You okay?”
“Fine!” you say, a little too quickly. “It’s, uh, left.”
“Thanks,” Steve mutters, glancing up into the rearview mirror and frowning. “Keep it down, you’re distracting Y/N, you little freaks.”
“Aw, they’re just excited, Stevie,” you laugh, and when Steve turns his eyes back to the road, it’s your turn to glare at them through the rearview mirror.
“Yeah, we’re just excited Stevie,” Max teases, clearly unperturbed by the underlying threat.
Her words set off the others and you smile sweetly before turning to Steve. “Hey, you wanna drive back, drop the kids off and catch a movie?”
They all yell in unison; a mix of ‘no’, ‘please’ and ‘we’ll shut up’. Satisfied, you sit back in your seat and look at your map again, to avoid any involuntarily reaction to Steve smiling at you.
Yeah, the kids have no idea what they’re talking about.
2. when he lets you cut his hair
“Harrington, are you fucking with me right now?”
“Wha- No!” Steve sits up from his previous position with his head in your lap as you played with his hair, the two of you watching some lame comedy movie. “I mean, you don’t have to do it, but since you were offering…” he trails off as he gets up to grab another bottle of water and you take the time to compose yourself.
When he comes back, you immediately start in on him. “So, you’re actually being serious about me cutting… your hair.”
“What’s the big deal?” he asks, the question sounding muffled by the enormous handful of popcorn he just stuffed into his mouth. “You cut Max’s hair the other day, didn’t you?”
You scoff, looking at him incredulously. “Max wouldn’t have cared if I had given her the same haircut as Will,” you emphasise. “You- You’re… you’re Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington!”
“Ah, yes, my government name,” Steve says sarcastically. “But, I mean, it’s you. I trust you to cut my hair. Just don’t give me the same haircut as Will and we’ll be fine.”
A huge grin threatens to break free and you find that you physically can’t stop it. “You really trust me that much?” You nudge him with your leg from the other side of the couch and he rolls his eyes, but the pink tint of his cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed. “Aw, you old softie. Alright, get up.”
“Wha- We’re doing it now?” his head snaps up at you, hand reaching halfway to the popcorn bowl. You move it to the side and grab his hand to start dragging him to his bathroom.
“You can’t take it back now, Steve. Binding verbal contract,” you declare dramatically and sit him down on the closed toilet seat, legs spread apart for you to stand between.
As you reach for the scissors in the cabinet above his head, Steve places his hands on either side of your waist as a reflex action to steady you while you search. “I wasn’t gonna take it back, I was just invested in the movie,” he mumbles, dangerously close to your stomach which causes his breath to fan across the tiny strip of exposed skin from where your pyjama shirt has ridden up.
If it weren’t for you trying to steady your own breathing, you’d have noticed Steve’s was slightly shaky. Quickly grabbing the scissors that are finally in view, you find yourself level with Steve who looks up at you, hands still on your waist. He keeps them there even while you set a towel around his neck.
The bastard winks at you. Raising a brow, you hold up the scissors threateningly and you swear he turns a little paler.
“Relax,” you snort, stepping away from Steve to get the water in the sink running. His hand trails down your leg, light as a feather as he’s reluctant to let go. He’s always been touchy with you, and you with him. You’ve always thought it was normal best friend behaviour growing up.
Even as you wash his hair, running your fingers through the soft strands, his eyes flutter shut and you think about how natural this is for your dynamic.
And yet, ever since you and Steve became the unofficial babysitters for a bunch of kids who seem to be convinced that Steve is in love with you and you’re in love with him, you second guess everything about your friendship.
You can’t help but consider that maybe it isn’t normal for you to hate every girl Steve has ever gone out with, or for him to point out every flaw in the guys who go out with you to the point where you end up cancelling on every one of them.
Or for you to compare every guy you do end up going out with to your best friend…
Damn kids, putting ideas in your head.
“You’ve been a little too quiet,” Steve cracks an eye open, squinting up at you through wet hair. “You’re not planning on balding me are you?”
“Scared you’ll lose the source of all your powers?” you ask him in mock concern. “One wrong snip and there goes your endless chain of girls.”
“All except you,” Steve fires back, shaking the wet strands of hair in your face, making you gasp.
You grab the towel around his neck to swat at him, but he grabs the other end and tugs at it, making you stumble and use his shoulder for support.
He smiles at you, guilt-free and you think about how your best friend has one of the prettiest smiles in the world.
And so you push yourself off before you find your mind venturing into dangerous territory.
“Well, I say it’s time to test that theory out,” you reply, clearing your throat and picking up the scissors again. “You better be feeling fortunate it’s me holding these scissors of all people.”
“Oh, I am.”
3. when he holds back your hair
“Ooooh, thanks for the haircut, Y/N,” you groan out in your best imitation of Steve’s voice as he hauls you into the bathroom of whoever the hell’s house you’re in. “I love my hair soooo much. Let’s go to a party so everyone can see my hair. Then you can get so drunk you feel like you’re going to die.”
“I didn’t force the alcohol down your throat!” Steve exclaims, sitting down with you on the floor by the toilet, lifting up the seat and helping you lean over it. The guilt in his voice contradicts his words heavily. “Hey, wait, let me tie your hair up first.”
He gathers your hair up in one hand and uses his teeth to take off the hair tie he keeps on his other wrist for you.
If it weren’t for the nausea, your stomach might have swooped for a completely different reason.
“You know damn well that I don’t go to these parties, Steve,” you try to take deep breaths to keep the vomiting at bay while he ties your hair. “Because every time you force me to, the whole entire population apparently wants to talk to you, so I get all bored and end up drinking half the alcohol on the premises without realising!”
“I’m sorry,” he soothes, keeping your ponytail out of the way as your body decides it can’t keep the sickness at bay. “It’s okay, babe. You’re fine, I got you.”
It’s while Steve grabs you tissue after tissue and cleans you up unflinchingly, that you realise maybe he isn’t just your totally platonic childhood best friend.
The scowl on your face, which is actually directed at the universe for putting you in this situation of all things to realise your feelings, gets misinterpreted by Steve who pouts at you, hand resting on your cheek.
“I’m gonna take you home and you can stay over and I’ll stay with you all night in case you throw up again and you can pick the movie for tomorrow’s movie night and the next month’s worth of movie nights, okay?” Steve implores, eyes wide and pleasing with you.
“Okay,” you whisper, no argument left in you. Partly because of the vomiting, mostly because you’re trying to process all these feelings while drunk and exhausted. You slump against his chest and he holds you there. “Thanks, Stevie.”
“Anything for you.”
You’re definitely fucked.
4. when he cooks you breakfast
“Pass the knife,” Steve calls over his shoulder to where you’re sat on the opposite kitchen counter. His voice makes you wince, your head still hurting from your killer hangover. Probably the reason Steve is cooking you breakfast in the first place.
You grab the knife and walk over to him, slowly and grudgingly. “Not so loud,” you grumble, passing it over a little too aggressively.
“You’ll feel better once you get some pancakes in you,” Steve says, all-knowing expression on his face as he chops up strawberries — your favourite. “You go and sit, I’ll bring them to you.”
“Nah, it’s fine,” you shrug, grabbing the spatula to start flipping the pancakes already in the pan. “You just focus on those strawberries.”
He looks at you warily while you struggle to flip even one pancake. “I don’t even know why you bother every time.”
“Go to hell, Harrington,” you mumble, right before the uncooked batter on top of the pancake smears on the side of the pan. “You distracted me!”
Steve chuckles in response and sets down his knife, coming over to stand behind you. You aren’t prepared for him to trap you between the stove and him, holding your spatula-wielding hand and guiding it under the pancake. “Here, like this.”
It was easy enough to ignore the sight of him making you breakfast as you stared at random kitchen utensils from your spot on the counter this whole time. But it’s another thing when he’s pressed up against you, hand over yours, his scent overwhelming you. It doesn’t help that you’re wearing his shirt and his sweatpants and slept in his bed — you quite literally can’t escape him no matter where you go. And that means you start to think about your feelings for him, unfortunately sober this time, not allowing you to ignore them.
The problem is, you don’t think you want to.
“We’re like an old married couple sometimes,” he says, completely offhandedly.
You freeze, not knowing what to say.
He’s kidding, of course, making a joke that you should probably laugh at. The thought of him saying things like this while thinking about you completely platonically, however, suddenly brings back nausea that rivals the night before. You collect yourself quickly and mutter something about how he wishes, before ducking under his arm to get some plates.
Steve clears his throat, running a hand through his hair, a little awkwardly. “What’s wrong?”
You really need to work on your acting skills.
“Nothing!” you insist, waving him off and handing him a plate. “I just felt a little dizzy for a second. Hungry.”
“Oh, do you wanna eat and then rest up?” His protective mode immediately kicks in, something you’re all too familiar with. “I can go grocery shopping for movie night with the kids myself.”
You roll your eyes, loading your plate with strawberries before Steve even has the chance to place the first pancake on. “I’m just hungry, I promise. Also, every time one of us goes alone, we end up forgetting like half the list and those kids are scary when they don’t have their essentials.”
“Oh, I remember the Eggo incident all too well,” Steve shudders are the memory. “My coffee table still leans a little to the right.”
5. when you go grocery shopping
“I can’t believe you wouldn’t stop at my house so I could grab some clothes,” you grumble, handing over the shopping cart to Steve with more force than necessary. “It was literally on the way! I look ridiculous, Steve.”
When he doesn’t answer, you sigh and look up from your list to find him grinning stupidly and looking over at your figure, clad in his clothes. You swat at his arm to snap him to attention.
“I think you look cute in my clothes,” he shrugs, unapologetic. “A completely self-indulgent move on my part.”
You almost stop in your tracks.
Yeah, Steve and you are close and he’s a sweet, charming, naturally flirty guy. But he’s never been this bold with you. First at breakfast, practically back-hugging you, and now admitting he likes to see you in his clothes?
You wonder what’s changed all of a sudden, but it’s making you nervous. And a little frustrated because how are you meant to come to terms with your feelings for your best friend when he says things like that!
“Don’t let the kids catch you saying stuff like that,” you wrinkle your nose, throwing a box of Eggos into the cart before you forget. “They’d be insufferable.”
“So, what?” Steve mumbles, pushing the cart into the next aisle to look for Lucas’ cookies. “They’re just joking around.”
You frown at the lack of joking around in his voice, and walk to the end of the cart which Steve stops in order to avoid running you over. “You don’t find it embarrassing and irritating?”
He scoffs. “Nice to know how you feel about the mere thought of being together,” he laughs without a trace of humour. “What’s the big deal, anyway?”
The sudden change of tone in the conversation has you wildly confused, and slightly annoyed because it’s easy for Steve to wave off the kids and their very real remarks. “The big deal is that we aren’t together. And the kids always saying that we should be… I- it- it has me confused!”
An elderly woman who’s about to enter the aisle, sees the two of you and clearly hears you raising your voice because she instantly turns her cart around.
“What has you confused?” Steve asks incredulously, throwing his arms up. “Is the idea of being with me that mind-boggling?”
You laugh derisively, no clue what he’s talking about. “We aren’t even—This has me confused! You, when you talk like we should be together, and when you flirt and when you act like we are together! But then we’re just best friends! What the hell is up with that?!”
“Well!” Steve looks around — you aren’t sure why, when the aisle is empty aside from you two. He pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. “Maybe it’s because I fucking love you!”
Your breath catches in your throat and you’re scared you might start choking if you do try and speak. However, when Steve looks at you like he wants to take it all back, misunderstanding your silence, you can’t stop the words from flowing out. “Well…maybe I love you too!
The relief on Steve’s face is something you catch for only a few seconds, because the next minute he’s striding over, shopping trolley abandoned on the side. He stares down at you, gaze intense and determined and so, so beautiful. “And maybe I wanna kiss you really bad.”
“Maybe you better.”
And so he does. He kisses you, really, really kisses you with the intention of making you forget everything else except him. Your best friend— your completely non-platonic best friend is kissing you and sliding his hands into your hair as you keep your hands on his hard, strong, chest that you’ve leant on for so many years. And while he presses his lips to yours, you can believe that he’s loved you for that long, you know he has.
When Steve reluctantly pulls away, you realise that you’ve loved him for just as long and damn those kids for knowing it before you did.
You’re the first to speak, albeit breathlessly. “They’re never gonna let us live this down, are they?”
“I don’t even care,” he shakes his head, grinning. “I finally got the girl.”
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© angelfic 2022
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likedovesinthewindd · 10 months
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Hobie and reader in the "he was punk, she did ballet" trope please!!
the both of them argue all the time, but everyone around them is sick of how much sexual tension they have
I wanted to write this into a fic but I just couldn't get it right I'm so sorry! but I decided to write a few ideas down.
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↝i was scrolling through pintrest looking for inspiration and i found these treasures; like this is so them coded. (just to be clear tho, these pictures do not directly describe reader or hobie i just liked them).
hobie brown x fem!reader
✧ ok so I'm thinking reader is also a spiderperson. she has this beautiful suit with these pretty designs adorning it.
✧ you and hobie are literally always bickering about something. it's always stupid things too, and it always escalates quickly, ending with either (or both) of you disgruntled.
✧ hobie loved getting a rise out of you. he just loved seeing this nice, soft girl absolutely loose her shit by irritating the living crap out of her whenever he got the chance.
✧ everyone around you is so tired of it too, even your close friends. because you're constantly just ranting about how much you hate him and his stupid clothes and stupid piercings and stupidly cool hair and they're just like wtv you say bbg.
✧ hobie's no better either. everyone keeps asking him why he keeps bothering the poor girl and he's like "idk ion like her" but secretly he just takes every opportunity he can get to be near you, talk to you. he's lowk fascinated by you too; finds it really cool how someone as poised as pretty as you can kick ass the way you do.
✧ at some point you run into some real trouble and you get scraped up a bit. you stay at home a lil bit to recuperate and hobie's like where tf is my girl. they tell him you got hurt and as fast as now he's opening a portal to your universe to see if you're okay.
✧ when you see him your first thought is to be mean, ask him wtf he's doing in your house. but you realize you're actually a little glad to see him, and that shocks you bc for as long as you've known hobie the two of you have been bickering.
✧ neither of you bring this up, though. not when he's asking you if you're alright, not when he's staying to keep you company and help you around the house, not even when you ask him to stay the night because you're lonely.
✧ no one even says anything when you two aren't at each other's throats by the time you return. they're too happy that you two finally realized what everyone else knew.
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aryxchse · 25 days
Text
percy doesn't know.
— leo valdez x daughter of poseidon! reader.
inspired from the song ;; scotty doesn't know by lustra
summary ;; percy is oblivious about leo fucking his sister at every chance he gets.
warnings ;; nsfw stuff i guess, no full smut though. percy is being oblivious as hell, reader is sneaky and leo's a little bastard <3
a / n ;; wish my english was good enough to actually write some good smut, but please don't kill me because i just implied it 👐🏻 OH and they're aged up, obvi.
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Percy doesn't know that y/n and me
Do it in my cabin every Sunday
She tells him she's in lake but she doesn't go
Still she's on her knees and Percy doesn't know
y/n l/n, percy jackson's precious little sister. she was only a year younger than him, but he still acted like she was a baby. he tried to protect her at all costs and sweared that he would kill anyone who looked at her wrong.
and when she told him that she was dating with leo, he couldn't help but get even more protective. but he did not have the right to say something, because he was happily in love with annabeth. and y/n just wanted to live that kind of love too, she deserved it.
so when she told him she was going to lake, to swim and meditate a little, he believed her. she was too soft and naive to do something secretly behind him anyways. at least, that's what percy told to himself.
little did he didn't know was that y/n, was going to bunker 9.
"finally," leo breathed out when he saw his perfect girlfriend y/n. "thought percy didn't let you be alone."
y/n smiled mischiefly as she approached to him, already seeing him hard. it looked like it hurt, and she would do anything to make her sweet boyfriend satisfied. "doesn't matter, i'm here right? let me help you with that." she said, pointing his arousal.
leo only smirked when she got down to her knees.
I can't believe he's so trusting
While I'm right behind you thrusting
y/n's got him on the phone
And she's trying not to moan
"h-hi, perce. what's up?" she said, trying to hold her voice stable.
she wasn't going to open the phone, really. but leo, being a little shit he is, insisted. appearently he wanted to see how much his girlfriend was capable of holding herself.
besides, leo was too heated at the moment that he didn't even cared when percy called. she was close, he was close, they were so close to having the feeling of paradise. percy would enter the room and leo would still keep pounding into her, that's how hot he was. he couldn't stop.
leo bited back a laugh, thrusting into her more. he bended her over at his working table, the metal stuff throwed on the ground long ago. she tried to scratch the table but of course, failed.
"no, thank you i don't want anything." she said, arching her back more as leo kept his speed. she was so close to exploding that she was afraid she wouldn't be able to muffle her moans like she did now.
percy was on a date with annabeth at the amusement park and he was catching some plushies now. and he knew how his sister loved plushies, especially sea creature themed ones. "well, m-maybe you can get the shark one, thanks perce." she said, tears rolling down as her voice shaked a bit.
"okay, love you too. kiss annabeth for me." she said before hanging up, and releasing herself with a loud cry. she screamed all of the voices she kept inside while she hit her orgasm, panting on leo's desk. it didn't take much longer for leo to cum after her, a breathless chuckle leaving his lips.
"you did so well, princesa." he panted, kissing her back.
I did her on his birthday
percy doesn't know
percy doesn't know
percy doesn't know
it was august 18th, percy's birthday. everyone of their friends were invited, so it was normal for leo being there too.
the house was full of people, that percy couldn't even look or talk with his sister more than two minutes. everyone congratulated him on his new age and how handsome he turned out. bla, bla, bla.
y/n wore a white skirt with a blue crop top that leo got her at her birthday. he didn't said anything while he handed it to her, but the low neckline was making her boobs look gorgeous. and he don't even mention of how hot that top looked with that skirt.
leo held her hand as he whispered in her ear. "i need you, right now." he whispered in a desperate tone, a tone she couldn't say no to.
"leo we can't— the house is too crowded and-" leo kissed her neck secretly, only making her squirm under his touch. "that's why no one would notice." he whispered in her ear.
percy was talking with annabeth when he saw y/n taking leo's hand and dragging him to somewhere. "y/n!" he called, making the couple turn around.
"w-what's up?" she asked, trying to sound not too panicked. percy didn't noticed, thanks to gods. "where are you two going?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. which annabeth was going to be mad at him for it later.
"i gotta pee man, and she's leading me to the bathroom." leo explained, hiding behind her so that percy won't see his boner. percy was going to say something, but was intrupted by annabeth.
"okay then, we wouldn't want leo to pee in his pants on your birthday, right babe?" annabeth asked, not caring if percy was going to answer or not. and not waiting for it either. "but-" percy tried to say.
"great! be quick though, we're about to give him his presents." annabeth said like she knew, she winked to the couple. y/n gave her a warm smile, in a way only she could understand what she meant behind it. thank you, you're the best!
annabeth dragged percy to the kitchen while the couple got upstairs, making out the moment they entered the bathroom.
a / n ;; thanks for reading, you really survived to here fr 🫶🏻
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l0vedoe · 1 month
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Hello! I was wondering if you are up for a request. If so I was wondering if you could do something with a Yandere Lucifer(You can count this as a somewhat part 2 to your original Yandere Lucifer if y’a want) when he took us down to hell. I was think that he finds out that we can dance really well if we actually tried to(I feel like the little dance we did for him was just silly to make him leave) how would he react to that?
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR35fxHm/
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR35BGFM/
^here are some inspiration TikTok’s
I really enjoy your work keep it up!
I loved that! Sadly, I can't do anything happy with yandere Lucifer, but I hope that you like what I wrote! I changed the dance because I thought it wouldn't match the vibe of that fic, I hope you're okay with that!
Part 1 here!
Yandere!Lucifer X GN!Reader - Part 2
Words: 2181
Synopsis: Two weeks after being kidnapped by Lucifer, he notices that you're quite sad and decided to do something to cheer you up.
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The only time you felt everything was all right was at night. At this time, Lucifer wasn't usually around, so you would sleep thinking that you weren't in hell, that it was all just a dream and that you would wake up soon in your bed, in your house.
You dreamt with your friends, your family, with your home, and everytime you woke up covered by those red blankets you felt a discomfort in your chest and your eyes filled with tears. It wasn't at all pleasant being stuck in hell. You know you hadn't died, but you didn't feel alive anymore.
Two weeks had passed since your arrival in hell, two weeks in which your life had changed abruptly without you having a choice.
You were fast asleep, dreaming of everything you wanted back, when suddenly something woke you up.
“Good morning, my love!” you hear a familiar voice. When you open your eyes, you notice Lucifer wearing his pajamas and holding a plate of pancakes, which he places on the dresser next to the bed.
It wasn't comforting seeing him as the first thing when you wake up.
You sit up, rubbing your eyes.
“Did you sleep well?” Lucifer asks, kissing your forehead and sitting next to you on the bed. You don't answer him. “I made pancakes, they're delicious! You have to try them!”
Lucifer takes one of the pancakes and eats it. You weren't making eye contact with him and he noticed, worried.
“What happened, dear?” He holds your hand. “It's been a while since I last saw your smile. Is something bothering you?"
How ridiculous. How couldn't he notice he was the one bothering you? He was the one who was ruining your life, depriving you of everything and not giving you freedom.
You sigh.
“It's nothing”.
He kept looking at you with worry in his eyes. He snapped his finger, a light bulb went off in his head, looking like he had an idea. A smile appears on his face.
“I know what can cheer you up.” he stands up, extremely excited. “Eat your breakfast, get yourself ready and come to the dancing room!”
Without you being able to answer, he ran out of the room.
You weren't in the mood to eat and get out of bed. You just wanted to get under the blankets and stay there, quietly, without anyone bothering you. You just wanted to be alone.
You took a deep breath and finally did what Lucifer asked you. You ate, changed your clothes and headed to the dancing room. When you entered, you could see Lucifer humming softly as he walked around the room.
Your breathing quickens when he notices you.
“Honey, right on time!” He approaches, hugging you. You don't hug him back. He lets go of you and walks over to a table in the corner of the room. “Come on, I've prepared everything!”
“Everything…?”
You ask, slowly walking towards him.
“The music!” He answers, touching a stereo on the table.
Music? What did he want now?
“Let's dance a bit, shall we? I think it might cheer you up! When you danced dressed as a duckling it was so cute, I loved it! But I want to see how you deal with something that is not so silly."
You arch your eyebrows. Why didn't he ask you if you wanted to do that? He always did that and you always got mad at it. He brought you stuff that you never asked for, he made you do things that you didn't want to. He never really cared for doing something that you liked to do. It was always about him, everyday was just him.
“I don't wanna dance.” You say in a low voice. You didn't even have strength to speak like you used to.
“Oh…” Lucifer gets discouraged. “But what do you want then, my love? We could watch something together, or cook together, or I can show you my new inventions! You know, I made a rubber duck that can–”
“I don't want any of those things!” You raise your voice, making the blonde startle and stop talking. “I wanna go home, I wanna see my friends, I want my life back…”
Your eyes filled with tears, the sensation of your throat closing and the discomfort in your chest showed the first signs before you could collapse crying.
For a moment, Lucifer had an annoyed expression on his face, but it soon softened and his eyes began to convey empathy. He approached you and held your face, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. He was looking at you with a comforting smile.
“My love, I hate seeing you like this…” he says, you still don't look at him. “How about that: we dance a little bit and, after that, I’ll let you see your friends. What do you think?
You look incredulously at Lucifer. Was he really serious? You could see your friends again?
You were so happy you couldn't believe that was really happening. You were so happy that you could hug Lucifer if it weren't for everything he did to you.
“Everything he did…”
No, it couldn't be true. Lucifer kidnapped you, kept you in his house and whenever you tried to escape he would left you locked up in a room without windows for hours. He wouldn't let you have any contact with the world outside, your life was just about pleasing Lucifer, talking to Lucifer and staying with Lucifer. Your life was Lucifer. Knowing him, he would never let you see your friends again.
But then, why did he said he would? What did he want, anyway? Test your loyalty to him?
You didn't know what his intention was, but you decided to believe in his words for now. He could be telling the truth, maybe he was sorry?
“Would you really do that…?” You ask, fearful.
Lucifer nods his head, still smiling.
“But you have to dance with me!”
You think about it again. If he was telling the truth, all you had to do was dance a bit with Lucifer and you could see your friends again, right? They should be worried by now, and maybe Lesley would know how to get you out of here…
Whether it was true or not, you didn't know, but you decided to try.
“All right.” you say after a long sigh. “What do you wanna dance?”
“Oh, I have so many ideas!” Lucifer goes back to the table, you follow him. “Can you dance anything other than silly dances?"
“Actually, I have done dance classes since I was a kid…” you say.
Your parents had put you in a lot of dance classes, and you grew up loving it, but after moving from your parent's house you stopped dancing often. You were a bit rusty, but it would work. It had to.
“That's great! So, how about we dance something romantic?” Lucifer asks. You could feel his flirty aura.
You nod.
Lucifer, then, puts music on the stereo and slowly approaches you with a smile. He holds your left hand, while his other hand rests on your shoulder. Your free hand was now holding Lucifer's waist. He was smaller than you, there wasn't much way to change the roles.
Lucifer didn't take his eyes off of you for a second as you two slowly danced around the room. You two were completely silent, just feeling the music and letting yourselves go, and he couldn't take his eyes off of you.
You felt uncomfortable, Lucifer always looked at you intensely, sometimes looking like he was eating you with his eyes. It was weird and most of the time you looked away, but even doing that you could feel the blonde still staring at you, and even without looking at his face, you could tell exactly when he was smiling or not.
As soon as the song ended, along with your dance, Lucifer pulled you closer. His hands held your face, and finally he pulled you for a kiss.
It wasn't everytime that you two kissed, fortunately, but whenever it happened you could feel like you were going to throw up at any moment. Lucifer tried to use his tongue with you a lot of times, but you never let him and used the excuse that you weren't ready.
It was disgusting to feel the lips of someone who didn't really cared about you.
When he stopped, you could see his red cheeks and his eyes glowing. His gaze oscillated between your eyes and your lips.
“So…” you start. “Can I–”
“I want just one more thing.” Lucifer interrupts you. You look at him curiously. “Dance for me. It can be any dance, any song, just dance for me again. Please?"
If that's what it takes to have a chance of escaping this (literally) hell, you'll do it.
You shake your head positively and go to the music player to choose a song. It was hard to choose something like that, without even having an idea of what to choose.
You close your eyes and take a deep breath, remembering when you used to dance to your parents, when you used to be alone in your room and convey your emotions through your dances. That’s it. You would use your dancing to vent again.
As soon as you've chosen the music, you get ready to start.
When the song starts, your eyes close and you let yourself be carried away by the music.
Good times for a change
Seems the luck I’ve had can make a good man turn bad
Being able to dance like this was like flying, flying in a blue sky being free to go wherever you wanted. Every second, every step you took and every turn of your body you could feel yourself free again. You weren't a prisoner in hell anymore, you were in a flowery field, feeling the breeze and breathing the fresh air.
Haven't had a dream in a long time
Seems the life I’ve had can make a good man bad
Your hands touched your chest and softened, falling beside your body, as if that simple move could take away all the weight that was inside you.
So for once in my life let me get what I want
Lord knows, it would be the first time
Your mind goes blank, and even a smile begins to appear on your face. Your expression was soft, just like your movements.
Please, please, please
Let me get what I want
All your pain had dissipated at that moment, and what remained was an intense feeling of floating.
Let me, let me, let me
Let me get what I want this time
The song ended along with your dance, leaving you with your head tilted back. You open your eyes, noticing the dark ceiling above you, making that feeling of floating disappear in a few seconds as you remembered your current situation.
As you returned to your normal posture, you looked forward just to find Lucifer, who was standing there staring at you in amazement. His eyes were shining in admiration, his mouth was ajar and his cheeks were rosy. Lucifer seemed to have been intensely touched by your dance.
“So…?” You ask, nervously.
Lucifer runs to hug you.
“I loved it! You danced so well, my sweetie, you were feeling the music and I was feeling you! You did so good, my love…” he smiles, caressing your face once more.
“Thank you…” you say. “So…can I see my friends now?”
You ask, nervousness consuming you even more when you hear Lucifer let out a laugh.
“D-did you really believe it…?” He asks between soft laughs. Your eyes widened, your head shaking wanting to deny what you’ve just heard. He couldn't be serious. “I'm not stupid, love, I know you would try to run away from me…"
Your eyes fill with tears, an even greater feeling of suffocation consumes you and you break down crying, sobbing. You fell to your knees, you were breathing fast and crying loudly, hugging yourself in search of comfort.
Lucifer knelt down, placing a hand on your shoulder.
“I can't risk losing you, you're everything I have…” Lucifer smiles, caressing your shoulder. He pulls your chin, making you look at him. “I can't risk losing you, did you understand? I’ve already lost someone important once, and I won't let that happen again."
He kisses you again, making you cry even more. He hugs you tightly, stroking your hair.
You keep hugging yourself, the pain in your chest getting worse and worse, your sobs getting louder, your thoughts getting darker and blurrier. The life you once had was now in the past, and you would never have it again, never, and that hurt so much, so much... Lucifer's words seemed to have woken you up to reality, making you realise that it really was impossible to free yourself from the chains that bound you, and that your destiny now was to stay here, with him, forever.
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Well, that's it! I hope you all liked!
I guess I won't be doing more chapters to this fic, and I won't do Yandere!Lucifer anymore either
I feel bad lol, he's just a baby, he would never that
So, if you guys wanna request something other than that with Lucifer, you can!
Thank you so much for your support!! <3
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