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sugarcoated-lame · 6 months

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Wake Up Call

Joel Miller x Female Reader

pre-outbreak Joel x reader

All of my works are 18+ minors dni!

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Joel knows you’re not a morning person, so he often loves to help you wake up in way that you’ll both enjoy.

slow, sleepy morning smut with Joel :)

WC: 3200

Warnings: i’m terrible at titles and summaries i know, this is basically just smut (18+), established relationship, fluff, cuddly joel, smut, somnophilia (kinda?), oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, biting ? (joel bites reader’s shoulder once), a hint of overstimulation, use of a few pet names (sweetheart, darlin’, baby), no use of y/n or description of reader’s physical appearance, moodboard is not indicative of reader’s appearance, joel’s morning voice and joel saying “good girl” in said morning voice deserve a warning. let me know if there’s any I missed! x

a/n: this was my first time writing an actual fic for Joel, so please be nice <3 this was based on some thots that I wrote for an ask that my beloved @sebsxphia sent me 🧡 this was so self-indulgent and I had such a fun time writing it and making the moodboard, I hope y’all enjoy reading!! happy reading, comments and feedback are greatly appreciated 🧡

Joel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

•

It’s a Monday morning like any other. The sun is still rising in the sky, languidly illuminating the world in its hazy golden glow, and you find yourself waking up the same way you do most mornings as of late.

Eyes slowly blinking open to the steadily brightening light that’s begun to make its way through the too-sheer curtains that cover Joel’s bedroom window, a broad chest pressed to your back, and soft breaths blown into the crook of your neck and moving a few strands of your hair along with them.

A strong arm is wrapped around your middle; one big palm splayed across the skin of your belly beneath your—his— t-shirt while the other rests underneath your pillow.

You’re growing used to waking up to Joel’s warmth radiating through you with all the nights you spend in his bed these days, his legs entangled with yours beneath the blankets that had been kicked further down the bed in the night, the extra warmth not needed when you’re completely encapsulated by the furnace that is Joel.

It’s still early as the two of you begin to stir, a while yet before either one of your alarms are set to go off and pull you from the comfort of each other’s embrace and Joel’s plush bed, and into readying yourselves for the upcoming workday.

The arm around your waist tightens as you slowly begin to wake. Joel burrows further into the crook of your neck, scruffy beard tickling at the skin of your shoulder where his shirt has fallen loose in your sleep, the action one that’s grown to be of great comfort for you.

Joel’s always been an early riser. All the nights spent together over the months that you’ve been together now, he’s always woken up before you.

He has an alarm clock, but you never understand why he bothers to set it in the first place. His internal clock is always waking him up naturally as the sun comes up, and approximately thirty minutes before Sarah wakes up for school.

Not that you’re complaining, though, because you’ve come to appreciate the slow and natural way you wake up with Joel.

His flurry of kisses to any patch of bare skin he can find, and the warmth of his broad chest pressed against your back always wake you up gently. It’s a routine you’ve come to love, miles better than any loud alarm.

Though Joel can never seem to sleep later than the sun, he loves it because it means he gets to spend a few extra moments just admiring your peacefully sleeping form.

He knows you’re not a morning person, that you love your sleep and hate nothing more than to be woken up by the shrill ringing on an alarm.

So, another benefit of Joel waking up before you is that he gets to wake you up slowly, gently, snuggling into you and littering your skin with kisses that he knows will bring about that sleepy smile that he loves so much as you begin to stir.

Joel’s morning voice is gruff and somehow even deeper than it already is normally as he turns to nuzzle his nose into your neck, pressing a feather soft kiss to the skin just below your ear.

“Mornin’ sweetheart. How’d you sleep?”

In your still half-asleep state, you just barely grace him with a sleepy hum of acknowledgement before pressing your body back against his, cuddling further into his warmth and beginning to drift off again, not quite ready to wake up yet.

Since Joel knows that getting up early is not even close to your favorite thing to do, he often loves to wake you in a way that he knows you’ll both enjoy.

So, it’s no surprise to you when you begin to be pulled further from your slumber by the feeling of his arms retreating from around you, the loss of the comforting heat of his body against yours causing the tiniest of whimpers to escape your lips.

Joel smirks—though he knows you can’t see it through your still-closed eyes—those strong arms turning you onto your back before his body is sliding further down the bed.

Before you know it, gentle kisses are being pressed to your knees, leading a trail up to your inner thighs, the wiry hairs of his beard scratching lightly against your skin as he makes his way up towards where your panty-covered core has already begun to flutter in anticipation.

Calloused palms reach under your thighs and they’re no sooner being parted by the width of Joel’s broad shoulders, his plush lips pecking along the skin where your thigh meets your hip. Languidly making their way up to your hip bones, dotting a sweet kiss to both before descending.

Nosing along the cotton of your underwear, Joel sends a shudder through your entire body when he brushes over the damp spot that’s begun to darken the fabric.

Taking in your heady scent with a groan, his lips press a single kiss there before the warmth of his tongue laves against your seam through the thin fabric and pulls another sleepy whine from your parted lips.

Joel’s rough fingers dip under the waistband as he reaches up to pull them down your thighs, letting out a low groan as he slowly reveals your core, all pretty and glistening just for him.

You’re still not fully awake when he licks into you. His tongue white hot as it licks a broad stripe up to your clit, mixed with the pleasant burn of his facial hair scraping against the soft skin of your inner thighs, has your hips bucking against his mouth and quiet whimpers leaving your lips even in your still-sleepy state. Joel can’t help but growl at the taste of you.

His strong arms wrap around your thighs to hold you in place, to keep you open wide for him as he fucks you with his tongue, and it’s only when he sucks your sensitive bundle of nerves between those plush lips that you fully awaken on a broken cry.

With your eyes squeezed shut now from pleasure, one of your hands reaches down blindly into his soft, sleep-mussed curls as his tongue swirls around your clit in firm, tight circles.

You’re already getting close to reaching your high when your eyes finally open and you peer down to see Joel.

The bottom half of his face is slightly obscured under the covers as he makes his way back down to your entrance—the tip of his nose brushing against your clit and rendering you dizzy while his tongue laps up the gush of arousal there, and those deep, chocolate eyes boring into your sleep-hazy ones as one hand leaves your thigh so that one of his thick fingers can join his tongue.

Joel turns to press a kiss to your inner thigh, and you can feel his slight smirk against your skin along with the tickle of his beard as he murmurs a quiet “Mornin’, baby.”

The deep, raspy drawl of his morning voice has you clenching down around his finger as it pushes into you, pulling a breathy whine from you as your own fingers tighten their hold in his hair, and you’re barely able to get out a shaky good morning back to him.

In the tranquil, early morning quiet of Joel’s bedroom, you both can hear just how wet you are for him. The deep groan he lets out mixes with your breathless cries as you both listen to the squelch of his digit sliding in and out of you.

“Ya hear that?” Joel’s lips press again to your inner thigh. “So wet for me, darlin’. Were you dreaming of me?”

It’s all you can do in your hazy state to let out a hum of agreement and nod, not trusting your voice as his words and his thick finger pull you closer to that edge.

Joel’s cheek still rests along the smooth skin of your thigh as he turns his gaze upward to watch your face while his finger continues its ministrations. He nearly growls at the sight—your head thrown back and hair spread messily across his pillows. Brows furrowed and eyes clenched shut in pleasure, your perfect lips parted and letting out the prettiest sounds as he works you over.

“Joel— fuck.” You can’t help the desperate moan that escapes your parted lips as Joel adds in a second finger and crooks them just right. Turning your face into the pillows to quiet the sound—his daughter is still sleeping right down the hall, after all—your hips buck toward him of their own volition and push his fingers even deeper as they prod against that spongy spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

“Doing so good for me, baby.’ Joel praises with one last peck to your thigh, before he turns his head to press a lingering kiss to your swollen clit that sends a jolt up your spine.

Then, he’s trailing back down toward your entrance, drawing another gasp from you as the tip of his nose just barely grazes your clit. You can’t help but whine at the loss of his fingers as Joel pulls them from your core, your walls clenching around nothing for only a moment before the warmth of his tongue takes their place.

Joel laps up some of your wetness with a groan that sends shockwaves through your core before his tongue presses back into you. The warm, wet muscle glides through your walls, in and out, and you find yourself whimpering in frustration at the feeling—oh so good, but not quite full enough.

It’s enough to have your hands relinquishing their hold on his locks and scrambling to pull him up the bed by his shoulders and begging him to fuck you.

“Joel, please. Need you now, baby!” Your voice sounds breathless and borderline frantic, and Joel can’t help but feel a little pride in just how worked up you get for him.

“Need—”

He cuts off your desperate pleas with a bruising kiss, pulling a needy sound from deep in your throat at the taste of yourself on his lips as they meet yours.

Joel parts from you to glance at the clock on his nightstand. He knows you’ve probably got about twenty minutes now before you each have to get ready for your respective days—before Sarah wakes up for school, and she’ll be knocking on his door to make sure that he’s up and ready to take her there before he heads to work.

Plenty of time to give you what you need.

Joel takes a moment to admire your features—pretty eyes still bleary from sleep, bottom lip swollen from his kiss and from being bitten between your teeth as you tried to keep your moans quiet. Chest heaving slightly in anticipation, nipples pebbled underneath the loose fabric of his t-shirt as you wait for him to make the next move.

He leans in to give you one more lingering kiss, his tongue parting your lips and meeting yours in a languid swirl that leaves you feeling dizzy when he pulls away.

Joel shifts back onto his knees, and you have half a mind to protest him being so far from you before his hands are meeting your hips.

“Turn over, baby.” He instructs you softly, those strong hands moving you with a surprising gentleness as he guides you to lay on your stomach.

You lie with your cheek pressed to the pillow, fingers digging into the sheets underneath it, your body tingling with anticipation as you wait for him to touch you.

Joel hastily removes his boxers, biting back a deep groan as he gives his already-throbbing length that’s been neglected until now a few firm strokes, spreading the precum that’s pearling at the tip as he watches your thighs clench with need.

You feel the calloused palms of his hands begin to trail the back of your thighs, and up slowly over your ass, fingers pushing up the hem of his much too-big t-shirt that you wore to bed along with them and making you shiver as they expose the smooth planes of your back.

Joel’s hands slide back down to part your thighs and make room for him, lifting your hips just slightly, and then he’s positioning himself over you.

With his broad chest pressed to your back once again and your spread thighs bracketing his, he reaches down to run his cock through your folds, gathering up your slick and pulling sharp gasps from you both as his tip bumps against your clit, before he notches himself against your entrance.

His body is a comforting weight against your back, the both of you letting out simultaneous sounds of pleasure and relief as Joel pushes into you slowly. His face rests in the crook of your neck and he groans at the way your tight, wet walls envelope him just right, the muscles already clenching around him as he waits to move.

Hips pressed to your ass while he gives you a moment to adjust to his length, Joel revels in the way you whine at the fullness of him. It’s always a stretch to accommodate his size, but you always take him so well.

“Mm—move, Joel. Please, baby.”

Your words and your hips attempting to buck back against him under his weight are enough for Joel to start moving, arms bracing beside you as he pulls his own hips back, slamming back into you in one quick thrust.

“Fuck!” You bury your face in the pillows to muffle your moans as Joel begins a steady pace.

All of your senses are completely surrounded by him—his scent on the silky fabric of his pillowcase, the hairs of his beard scratching at the column of your neck as he quietly grunts and moans into your ear, the weight of his strong body pressing you into the sheets as his cock fills you up and quickly pulls you back toward the edge of that cliff, more than ready to fall off.

Joel’s lips begin a trail of kisses all along your neck and up to your ear so he can whisper directly into it, that deep drawl of his eliciting a downright sinful mewl from your lips.

“So good for me, sweetheart. Always feel so good.”

His praise has your walls clamping down around him tighter as Joel fucks you slow and deep into the mattress. Both his words and his hips stuttering as he drives into you, bringing you both closer and closer to your highs every time his length prods against that spot inside you that makes you feel like you’re going to come undone.

“So, fuck—fuckin’ tight.” Joel groans as he buries his nose in your hair.

One of his large hands reaches out to cover one of your own that’s still tightly gripping the sheets, the other snaking its way beneath your body to find your clit and you shudder underneath him as the speed of his thrusts begins to quicken.

Face still buried in the pillows, your desperate cries of Joel’s name are muffled as he works you closer to the edge. The feeling of his cock dragging through your slick walls and filling you oh so deep, and the rough pads of his fingers circling your clit, leave your mind feeling hazy—and not because you’re still sleepy.

Joel can tell that you’re close from the way that your moans have shifted into breathless, broken cries, your cunt clamping down around his cock in a vice-like grip that’s driving him to the brink right along with you.

“Such a good girl for me,” He pauses to press a gentle kiss just behind your ear before he continues. “Need ya to come, baby.”

Joel’s words of encouragement, along with his deft fingers speeding up in their assault on your clit, have you falling over the edge with a sob of his name.

“Good girl.” He mutters close to your ear as his hips continue to piston against your backside, fingers still rubbing your clit and leaving you a writhing mess underneath him.

Your loud cries are softened as you bite down on the pillow below you when the pleasure borders on overstimulation. You feel so full as Joel continues to fuck you nice and deep, working you through your orgasm as he begins chasing his own.

With your release soaking his cock, and the velvety walls of your cunt practically strangling his length, his hips begin to falter in their rhythm and it’s only a few more thrusts before Joel reaches his peak.

Pressing impossibly deeper into you, he leans in to bite down on your shoulder through the fabric of your t-shirt to muffle his moans as he coats your spasming walls with his cum.

Joel’s deep, throaty moans mix with your softer sighs as his hips gradually come to a stop, still buried deep inside you as his fingers leave your oversensitive bundle of nerves, hand now retreating from beneath you as he lets his weight slump against you for just a moment.

With a few more kisses to the side of your head, Joel makes his way back down to your neck, and then to your shoulder where his lips press tenderly to where he knows is probably now a bite mark under your shirt, before he slowly pulls out of you.

The weight of him leaves you as he moves back onto his knees on the mattress, taking a moment to admire the mess of you both between your legs.

Joel then reaches for the box of tissues on his nightstand, grabbing a few to clean up the mix of your releases that’s begun to leak out of your core, tossing them into the trash can beside his bed and moving to turn you onto your back.

Body pliant and sated, and practically melting into the mattress, Joel can’t help but chuckle at you as leans down to meet your lips in a kiss so sweet it has you sighing against him.

It’s only a few moments after you’ve finished, after he lays back down on the bed and pulls you onto his bare chest, that the alarm goes off with the shrill signal that it’s time to start the day.

With a groan, you look up from your spot lying against Joel’s chest to see him already gazing down at you, a small smirk lifting the corner of his lips as he reaches a hand up to run through your hair.

“Guess it’s time to wake up, sweetheart.”

With a dramatic roll of your eyes, your head flops back down onto his pec with another huff of disagreement and the two of you share a breathless laugh before Joel moves to shut off the alarm.

And, though you won’t admit it, you definitely wouldn’t mind an early wake-up call if you got to wake up like this every morning.

•

Aaaaah thank you for reading!! Don’t hesitate to leave a comment or reblog if you enjoyed! x

tagging everyone who reblogged the original post that this was based on 🧡 : @seitmai @givemeth @lumoverheaven @fangirlbang @onceupona-happilyeverafterlove @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @twoheartscanyon @sunblchdfly @caffeinated-idiot @fandomimagines2023

and a few others moots who i think may be interested 🫶🏼 : @softiedingo @joelsgreys @gasolinerainbowreads @thepascalofus @ilovepedro

711 notes · View notes

ryker-others · 6 months

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Mornings with them

What are mornings like with them? Do they sleep in? Are they early risers? When they wake up, how long does it take them to get out of bed? Are they grumpy waking up or playful? Only you know the answer

Characters: March 7th, Dan Heng, Welt, Himeko, Caelus, Pom-Pom (platonic)

Request rules and masterlists

March 7th:

March is definitely not an early riser

she will stay in bed as long as possible with you all cuddled up under the covers

even if she wakes up before you, she will just cuddle closer up to you before falling back asleep

you have to be the one to tell her to get out of bed

once you do, she knows it's time to get up for real

...but she's very slow to rise

for someone so energetic during the day, she's very slow and quieter in the mornings

almost like she's walking around half asleep for the first hour

she's also very clingy in the mornings

Dan Heng:

not really an early riser, not really one to sleep in late either

it's honestly up to fate which one of you wakes up first

but him and his bed is so warm and comfortable

he doesn't really cling to you like March does, but he lightly has one or both of his arms very lightly wrapped around you

Dan Heng loves to stay in bed with you for a little while before getting up

he spends most of this time just admiring you and thinking about the day ahead

if you have to get up for anything, you'll never be late this man is your personal alarm clock

he will drag you out of bed if he has too

Caelus:

he loves to sleep in with you!

seriously, you have to be the one to get up first or else you two will never get out of bed

he's such a cuddle bug too

he won't let you go in the mornings for real like he is wrapped around you

you have to pry him off if you want to get up

there's a good chance you will always wake up first

waking him up is a nightmare too like he just keeps falling asleep again and again

but when you two do get up, he can be very cuddly and will travel with you in the mornings to go get breakfast

(he'd even carry you if you asked)

Welt:

the earliest riser

what can I say? it's an old man trait

he wakes up around 5-6 in the morning

whenever Welt wakes up he always tries to avoid waking you up too

like he moves so slowly and stays as quiet as possible

still, he always spends a few moments in bed when he wakes up to admire your beauty and appreciate you

he'll place a gentle kiss on your forehead before he fully gets up

when he comes back later to wake you, he usually brings you a drink to help wake you

he's so gentle in the way he wakes you up because he's stroking your hair, giving you light kisses, and softly calling your name

Himeko:

another early riser!

she's usually up before most of the others, but she demands peace when it's early

she can get grumpy if things are too loud so early or chaotic before she's had her coffee

speaking of coffee, she will make you a cup every morning!

after she spends her time going through her morning routine and getting ready for the day, she'll wake you up

she'll help get you out of bed (she can be forceful if she needs)

Himeko insists on brushing your hair in the mornings because it's such a soft moment and it's a nice way to show her love so early

Pom-Pom:

Pom-Pom has to wake up early so they can get to work as the conductor

but if they didn't have that responsibility, you bet they would be sleeping in late

each morning they're super cuddly until they fully wake up

once they are fully woken up, they will deny being so cuddly and how cute they were during it

you get the special Pom-Pom treatment!

basically, no one is allowed to wake you and you get brought a nice breakfast! Conductor's orders!

you're the one they trust most to brush their fur or adjust their clothing

516 notes · View notes

ki-yomii · 9 months

Text

phases of a daydream | myg

➥ pairing | min yoongi x f!reader

➥ word count | 2.8k

➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, oral (f receiving), squirting, soft dom!yoongi, pet names, mild degradation kink, mild praise kink, begging, teasing, implied established relationship, brief threesome fantasy feat JK

➥ summary | you get up early to surprise yoongi with breakfast in bed, only he ends up surprising you instead.

➥ notes | this man has made my oral fixation 10x worse. for all the sleepy girlies out there 🫡

💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚

The early Sunday morning sun hovers low on the horizon, its golden light peeking through gaps between downtown Seoul’s high risers.

The cacophony of city life sounds muted, far away, foggy with sleep. Slow to rise as vibrant brushstrokes of color chase away the velvet nighttime sky.

Some of the only ones awake are food stand owners with tteokbokki and eomuk in hand, Hongdae club go-ers, and you, apparently. It’s peaceful - certainly different from your usual routine.

But it’s also an experience you don’t see yourself repeating soon.

As nice as watching the sunrise is, you’d rather be dead than awake at this hour, especially on a weekend. You’ll never understand how some people like getting up while the world’s still cold and dark.

It’s criminal.

Couldn’t be me, you think while swirling oil around the pan, and ignoring the fact you did that just this morning.

It’s a minor miracle when you’re fully awake before 11 AM, and that’s after you guzzle down so much caffeine you vibrate in place.

Woe to whoever expects more than dispassionate glares and unintelligible grunts as you migrate from the bed to the couch.

What can you say, you’re not a morning girlie: you hate the half-drunk awareness, the sour taste clinging to the back of your tongue, the sticky sweat, and how overwhelmingly bright everything is.

Instead, you’d much rather nestle into bed, groggy and warm.

So Min Yoongi better count his blessings because he’s the only reason you’re in the kitchen at 7 AM, wearing nothing but a shirt that barely covers your ass while trying - and failing - to flip nurungji.

Quiet Spotify tunes and Min Holly’s rumbling snores are the only background noise amid your bitten off curses.

Before you met him, you used to make fun of girls so far gone for a guy they lost touch with reality. And now, you’re one of them, fighting for your life in the trenches.

He’s got you so whipped, it should be illegal.

Furthermore, it’s downright unfair how endearing you find it. It should infuriate you. Instead, you’re kitten soft.

And Yoongi knows how to use it to his advantage - knows it’s that stupid smirk paired with a face that makes smart girls dumb.

It never fails to win you over; the pretty eyes, the plush lips, the sharp jawline - you’re an absolute goner. If only smug didn’t look so good on him…

Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it?

The only thing that somewhat mollifies your bruised pride is the fact that should everything go to plan, your less than innocent intentions will come to fruition.

After all, your stolen shirt leaves so little to the imagination, you needn’t have bothered. And when Yoongi sees you practically naked, with breakfast in bed?

Fire meets gasoline.

While he might never say it outright, there’s no denying the way Yoongi’s eyes go soft and hungry whenever he catches you prancing around in his shirt.

He swears he’s going to throw it out, threadbare and worn, yet there it sits. Waiting in the back of his closet for the next time you stay over.

But that’s how it’s always been; a game of cat and mouse. You tease, he reacts - a constant push and pull, flirting with the boundaries of his restraint.

Though admittedly, you’ve never been this brazen before; ass out and nipples hard.

Although it’s not like he lives with the rest of the members anymore, so why not up the ante?

Even if imagining someone walking in on you (no matter how improbable) gets your blood pumping, and your pussy aching.

No one has to know about the dirty little fantasy you indulge in more often than you care to admit.

No one has to know how wet you get at the thought of getting caught bent over, stuffed full of Yoongi’s cock and unable to do anything but moan as he makes you take it.

Certainly, he’d play along.

The smooth thrust of his hips wouldn’t falter, wouldn’t stop. He’d fuck sweet whines out of you, make you cum so hard you gush.

Would keep you pinned in place with his hands, and tease you about how much you liked getting wrecked in front of his friend like a perfect little bitch.

Especially if it was Jungkook.

Yoongi thinks it’s cute how frazzled you get around the maknae; a silly, schoolgirl crush. In fact, he’d probably use it to his advantage. After all, he loves to taunt, tease.

Oh, he definitely would, you think, biting your lip as your stomach clenches and your thighs twitch.

His fingers would dig into your jaw, force you to look if you tried to hide; make you stare deep into those wide Bambi eyes with his chin hooked over your shoulder and his voice rough in your ear.

Grinding his cock head over your g-spot with every flex of his hips as your pussy tries to milk him dry, “You just gonna stand there, huh? C’mere, let’s have some fun. She doesn’t mind.”

...

"Ow, shit," you hiss, jerking back from the stove as angry heat blooms through your fingertips, "fuck, that hurts!"

Dropping the spatula, you scramble to the sink and run cold water over your hand while glaring at the sizzling pan. It might have been your fault for getting distracted, but rude.

Even if the pain helps calm down some of your raging hormones.

Okay, down girl, you think, chill out.

So despite your fingers feeling tight and swollen like a bad sunburn, and as hot a fantasy as that is, you take your sign from the universe and recollect yourself.

For now, you need to focus on the task at hand which comes at the expense of no more daydreaming.

Resolutely ignoring the sticky cling of your inner thighs, you slip the spatula under the rice patty and quickly flip it over.

It sizzles as it drops back into the pan, little splashes of oil kicking up.

Thankfully, the bottom isn’t too badly scorched. A little darker than you’d like but beggars can’t be choosers when they burn themselves because they’re too distracted by the thought of dick.

Giving the other side a few minutes to crisp up, you frown down at the forming blister. You poke it with a wince.

It’s not too big, and the sting isn’t terrible. You were able to sap the heat from the wound quick enough.

Honestly, what hurts worse is your pride - a total rookie move.

When its ready, you dump it onto a plate without ceremony before turning to grab the sugar. Only to gasp as you run into a solid chest instead of open air.

Forearms snake around your waist as Yoongi tugs you into the curve of his body. Pressed together from chest to hip, he feels the hitch of your breath when his thigh wedges itself between yours.

“Oh, y-you’re up!”

Fingertips flirt with the hem of your (his) shirt, inching higher to caress the slope of your rib cage. Goosebumps break out across your skin, your nipples pulling taut as a shiver judders down your spine.

Low-slung sweats cling to Yoongi’s trim hips, his erection tenting the cotton.

“Mm, morning,” he says, the greeting slurred out in a voice raspy with sleep. “Smells good.”

You swallow. “Good morning, baby.” You lean forward, and kiss the tip of his nose. “How’d you sleep?” Your hand scrapes over the nape of his neck, playing with the soft baby hairs.

It wasn’t until sometime after 3 AM that he’d wiggled into bed, most of the night spent in front of his MIDI, fiddling with chords and arrangements.

He rests his chin on the top of your head with a sigh, his breath ruffling the hair of your crown, “Hnng, slept alright.”

Arms tighten around you in a light squeeze while cheeky fingers inch up your torso to trace along the underside of your breast.

“Had the best dream though.”

Your breath catches in your chest, your heart stuttering against your ribs when he grinds forward, languid and loose. Your gut clenches hotly in interest as his cock rests heavy against your hip.

A temptation, a promise of what’s to come. Your palms sneak around his sides, resting on sleep-warm skin.

When you speak, its more of a breathless whisper than actual words, “Yeah, I can see that.”

“C’mon, baby, don’t you want to help me out?” Yoongi hums, peppering kisses along the length of your neck. A rough thumb drags over the peak of your nipple. “Promise it’ll be good for you.”

“Yoongi!”

“Fuck,” a kneecap grinds up against your tender pussy, spreading your slick, swollen folds open, “can feel you through my pants. Let me, I know you want to.”

Your hips stutter, and you swallow your whine. “I do…”

Pleasure sings in your blood as you soak the fabric covering his thigh, a needy desperation rearing its head from deep within.

Flames lick along your skin, liquid fire pooling low behind your navel like a shot of whiskey.

“But,” you long for the bite of his teeth, the snap of his hips, the roughness of his grip, “I just finished making breakfast.”

Pouting, you stare up at him.

A tender expression softens the lines of his face. But the desire simmering beneath the gentle veneer remains, rough and rude.

There’s a raging tempest in his gaze, twin rings of rich coffee consumed by the black holes of his pupils.

Utterly ravenous, greedy as he traces your features.

It’s a look that’ll leave you weak-kneed and pumped full of cum.

“I know, and I appreciate the effort.”

He’s earnest, aflame with craven desire even as he presses a tender kiss to the side of your face.

“But I’d rather eat you out. You’ll let me, won’t you, pretty girl?”

You nearly choke on your tongue, and say, “Well, how am I supposed to say no to a face like that?”

You’ve barely got the words out before you find yourself flat on your back, the unyielding marble of Yoongi’s counter top cold against your heated skin.

Calloused palms pry your thighs apart, grip so firm it dimples the fat as Yoongi holds you open and exposed.

He runs his nose along your sensitive inner thigh, his lips warm and ready as his breath pants over your soaked core.

When your clit throbs, he groans low and wrecked, “Just look at this pretty pussy.”

Almost reverently, he strokes his thumbs over the length of your folds, dips his fingers into your entrance to spread the gathering slick.

Whimpering, your head smacks back against the granite and your hips jerk up towards his face

“Can’t wait til I get my mouth on you.”

“Shit, Yoongi, you can’t - you can’t just say stuff like that.”

He flicks your clit, relishing in how your whole body jumps as he demands, “Why not?”

“B-Because you just can’t, okay?” Your heart feels like it’s about to burst out of your chest. There’s no doubt, he’s going to be the death of you one day. “It’s not-”

Fair.

“I think you don’t want me talking like that because you like it. Don’t you, baby?”

“I-”

The words turn to ash on your tongue. A loud, sloppy lick up the length of your slit shuts you up while a harsh suck to your swollen clit makes you whine. Your back bows hard, your hands flying down to sink into the dark mane of his hair.

“Ohh g- ah!”

“That’s it,” Yoongi smacks his lips, humming low in his throat, “Let me hear you.”

Forearms anchor themselves over your thighs. Using his body weight to keep you pinned, he tugs you close and strokes his fingers over your sticky folds, humming in approval at the obscene squelch.

Slick oozes out of you with every talented caress, dripping down your ass to puddle on the countertop.

“Always get so wet for me, don’t you?” Yoongi buries his smirk in the crease of your thigh, his tongue darting out to tease the very edge of your cunt. “You’re such a messy little slut, just how I like it.”

Before you can properly respond, he’s spreading you open and bowing his head. You squirm as his plush lips glide over the top of your mound, butterfly kisses tracing the beginning of your needy slit.

His bangs brush the soft underside of your belly. “Ready?”

He doesn’t wait before diving in, sucking the hard nub of your clit into his mouth. Stars burst behind your clenched eyelids. Soft, warm suction sends pleasure ricocheting through your limbs, your stomach caving in with every tender pulse of his mouth.

Your mouth drops open on a silent gasp

“That’s so - fuck,” you pant, hand scrambling for something to hold onto, hips jerking beneath his firm grip. “Yoongi!”

The wild movements nearly dislodge him, and he grunts in displeasure before readjusting to keep you better pinned.

His tongue retreats from your clit, and he sets his teeth against your pussy in warning, a gentle bite that doesn’t break skin but carries the slightest sting.

“‘m sorry, please - haahhh - please don’t stop,” you slur, fingers digging into his scalp. “I’ll be good, just please don’t stop, I can’t-”

He grunts at the rake of your nails, tongue lashes out in retaliation. He dips the tip into the tight clench of your entrance, teasing your sensitive walls.

Meanwhile, his nose grinds against your clit. The sensation’s almost too much, your body alight like a live-wire. You feel like you’re about to rocket off of the countertop, one of your hands de-tangling from his hair to yank at your own.

“S’too much - s’too good. Please, baby, I can’t!”

Yoongi ignores your cries, knows you’d sooner stab him with a knife if he stopped.

Anyway, you can take it.

You’re his good girl, after all.

You both like it wet and messy; love when the honey of your cunt soaks his face, sticks to his lips and drips from his chin.

All you can do is cry out, your chest pointed towards the ceiling as his tongue fucks deep, never stops chasing every drop of pleasure. Your toes curl from the alteration between flat, firm licks and gentle sucks.

Sweat gathers in your hairline, behind your knees as a heady rush sends you spinning, mind a haze of sensation.

You can’t stop rolling your hips, chasing after his talented mouth. In no time at all, Yoongi’s going to have you violently, explosively cumming on his tongue - just like he always does.

“Give it to me,” he growls, “Wanna feel this pretty pussy gush.”

You moan,” Yoongi, I’m - please, don’t stop. R-Right there!”

Your thighs clench around his head, biting down on your lip to hold in the scream threatening to break free.

“Fuck, please, ‘m almost there.”

Your pathetic cries spur him on.

With renewed enthusiasm, Yoongi twirls his tongue across the top of your slit, the tip playing with the hood of your clit. You clench down hard. It’s almost too much, like he’s reached deep inside and plucked at your nerves.

Then, the leaden ball of heat behind your navel contracts. Expands into a blazing inferno that threatens to swallow you whole, spreading out along your limbs like bolts of lightening until you shake.

“That’s it, come on,” Yoongi says, coaxing every ounce of pleasure he can. “I’ve got you, pretty girl. Now, cum for me.”

All it takes is one last talented pulse of his tongue. Your orgasm rips through you with a loud, keening cry. Your back arches so high your spine feels like it’s about to snap, and slick gushes from you in a warm flood.

The ball of heat snaps, races down through your body from the crown of your head to your toes. Your thighs tremble from where they’re clenched around Yoongi’s head, soaked. Your heart slams against your ribs.

“F-Fuck…”

Collapsing against the cool stone, and panting hard, you push away stray hairs sticking to your face.

Glancing down the length of your twitching body, you see Yoongi still kneeling between your splayed thighs.

The lower half of his face is soaked with cum and drool. His sweatpants were kicked off at some point, you’re not sure when but it doesn’t really matter when his cock throbs against his belly, hard and wanting as the tip weeps pre-cum.

But it’s his eyes that really do you in; hot, hungry, and awe-filled.

“Can’t believe I’ve never made you squirt before.”

Those sinful lips part, red and swollen as his tongue swipes out to gather any leftover slick clinging to his mouth. A rough moan rumbles from his throat.

“Think you can do it again for me, baby?”

A weak laugh escapes you, and you think - not for the first time - that Min Yoongi is going to be the reason you die.

#yoongi #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic

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campingwiththecharmings · 10 months

Text

Morning

AN: In my Poe feels today. Not sorry.

(Un-beta’d, not proof-read well either if i'm being honest)

PWP in which you have sleepy morning sex with Poe

Rated: M+ (this is smut so, i mean, you’ve been warned?) Words: 755 Pairing: Poe Dameron x F!Reader Warnings: PWP, p in v, kissing, softness and smut bc i'm in desperate need of it, a little bit of a praise kink (if you squint). AO3

——————

You wake with your face buried in his neck, your right arm slung loosely across his waist, legs tangled in between his. The slow rise and fall of his chest tells you he’s still asleep, which is unusual given the amount of light streaming into the room. Poe’s always been an early riser, even on his days off he was up with the sun, busying himself with various tasks around the base or researching something for his next mission. It was rare for him to slow down, to take a break…a fact you’d recently brought to his attention.

You smile, pressing soft kisses into his skin, your nose dragging against the side of his neck. He stirs a little at the contact but remains blissfully asleep. Sighing, you kiss your way up his neck toward his jaw, your teeth nipping at the underside. A quiet groan escapes him, but he still doesn’t wake, not even when you whisper his name in his ear, teeth nibbling gently on his earlobe.

Suddenly impatient, you slide your hand down his stomach, slipping it beneath the waistband of his boxers. He sighs when you take him in your hand, his hips twitching involuntarily as you stroke his half-hard cock. You latch onto his neck with your lips, sucking a mark into his skin as you pump him slowly. He makes the sweetest noises as you work him up, breathy moans and whines that go straight to your core as you whisper how good he’s being for you in his ear.

You’re not sure when he finally wakes, only that he does, his fingers digging into your hips as he rolls you onto your back, his lips latching onto yours, swallowing the surprised squeak that leaves you. He says nothing, just grunts, sleepily caging you beneath him as he licks into your mouth. Your moan is muffled as you wrap your legs around him, meeting the lazy thrust of his hips with your own.

His hand slides down your torso, slipping beneath the lip of your panties to your sopping slit. He groans against your lips as he slides his fingers through your wet folds, dipping briefly into your cunt to collect your slick. You reclaim his mouth with a breathy moan, winding your arms around him as he kisses you back. It turns desperate, tongues clashing as you both attempt to deepen it, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouths.

His fat cock stretches you open when he pushes into you, and you whimper slightly at the delicious burn of it. Once fully seated, he fucks into you slowly, swallowing your moans with every pointed thrust. Your hands tug at him, somehow trying to pull him closer even though he’s already inside you, surrounding you, every push of his hips taking you higher and higher, closer and closer to your peak. You gasp when he hits something devastating inside you, fingernails digging into his back as his face hovers over yours, his pants fanning across your lips.

“Poe,” you whine, clinging to him as the telltale tension builds inside you with every thrust of his hips.

He groans softly as you flutter around him, his lips brushing your cheek as he presses his forehead to yours.

“Taking me so well, sweetheart,” he pants, licking his lips as his eyes greedily rove your face. “You’re so beautiful, feel so good around me, squeezing me–”

He breaks off with a strangled groan as you contract around him, his steady pace faltering a little as his eyes roll back in his head. You can feel how close to the edge you both are, know you need just a little more.

“Love you so much, baby,” he breathes, groaning when you flutter around him again. “So good for me.”

You come when he hits that special spot inside you again, body shaking as pleasure floods every inch of you. Poe is right behind you, his eyes closing in relief as he spills himself into you, hips pumping as the remnants of both of your orgasms begin to dissipate.

He cradles your face in his hands as you come down, nose nuzzling yours as he leans in to steal a kiss. You smile when he pulls back, combing your fingers through his curls as you take in his disheveled appearance.

“Morning,” you sigh, smile widening when he chuckles softly in response.

“Morning,” he rasps, breath puffing against your face as he leans in again to claim your lips in another kiss.

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

🌟 Masterlist 🌟

i am no longer doing a taglist. please follow @charmingupdates for updates and turn on notifications.

#poe dameron x you #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fic #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron reader insert #poe dameron smut #my fic #i'm not sure this is my best work but lol i needed this so. not sorry.

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sassenach77yle · 20 days

Text

He opened his eyes and gave me a dark blue look.

“Sassenach,” he said softly.

“What?”

“I would like ye to touch me . . . without hurting me. Just once before I sleep. Would ye mind much?”

I stopped and drew breath, terribly disconcerted at the realization that he was right. Caught up in the emergency and worry of his condition, everything I had done to him during the day had been painful, intrusive, or both. Marsali, Brianna, Roger, Jemmy—all of them had touched him in gentleness, offering sympathy and comfort.

And I—I had been so terrified at the possibility of what might happen, of what I might be forced to do, that I had taken no time, allowed no room for gentleness. I looked away for a moment, blinking until the tears retreated. Then I stood and walked over to the bed, bent, and kissed him, very softly. I stroked the hair back from his forehead, smoothed his brows with my thumb. Arch Bug had shaved him; the skin of his cheek was smooth, hot against the side of my hand. His bones were hard under his skin, framing his strength—and yet he seemed suddenly fragile. I felt fragile, too.

“I want ye to sleep beside me, Sassenach,” he whispered.

“All right.” I smiled at him, my lips trembling only a little. “Let me brush out my hair.” I sat down in my shift, shook out my hair, and took up the brush. He watched me, not speaking, but with a faint smile on his lips, as I worked. He liked to watch me brush my hair; I hoped it was as soothing to him as it was to me. There were noises downstairs, but they were muffled, safely distant. The shutters were ajar; firelight flickered against the glass of the window from the dying bonfire in the yard. I glanced at the window, wondering if I ought to close the shutters.

“Leave them, Sassenach,” he murmured from the bed. “I like to hear the talk.”

The sound of voices from outside was comforting, rising and falling, with small bursts of laughter. The sound of the brush was soft and regular, like surf on sand, and I felt the stress of the day lessen slowly, as though I could brush all the anxieties and dreads out of my hair as easily as tangles and bits of pumpkin vine. When at last I put down the brush and rose, Jamie’s eyes were closed. I knelt to smoor the fire, rose to blow out the candle, and went at last to bed. I eased myself gently into the bed beside him, not to jostle. He lay turned away from me, on his side, and I turned toward him, echoing the curve of his body with my own, careful not to touch him. I lay very quietly, listening. All the house sounds had settled to their night-time rhythm; the hiss of the fire and the rumble of wind in the flue, the sudden startling crack! of the stairs, as though some unwary foot had stepped upon a riser. Mr. Wemyss’s adenoidal snoring reached me, reduced to a soothing buzz by the thickness of the intervening doors. There were still voices outside, muffled by distance, disjointed with drink and the lateness of the hour. All jovial, though; no sound of hostility or incipient violence. I didn’t really care, though. The inhabitants of the Ridge could hammer each other senseless and dance on the remains, for all I cared. All my attention was focused on Jamie. His breathing was shallow but even, his shoulders relaxed. I didn’t want to disturb him; he needed rest above all things. At the same time, I ached to touch him. I wanted to reassure myself that he was here, alive beside me—but I also needed badly to know how things went with him. Was he feverish? Had the incipient infection in his leg blossomed in spite of the penicillin, spreading poison through his blood? I moved my head cautiously, bringing my face within an inch of his shirt-covered back, and breathed in, slow and deep. I could feel the warmth of him on my face, but couldn’t tell through the linen nightshirt just how hot he really was.

He smelt faintly of the woods, more strongly of blood. The onions in the dressing gave off a bitter tang; so did his sweat. I inhaled again, testing the air. No scent of pus. Too early for the smell of gangrene, even if the rot was beginning, invisible under the bandages. I thought there was a the tissue? Some breakdown product of the snake’s venom? I blew a short breath through my nose and took in a fresh one, deeper. “Do I stink verra badly?” he inquired. “Uk!” I said, startled into biting my tongue, and he quivered slightly, in what I took to be suppressed amusement. “Ye sound like a wee truffle-pig, Sassenach, snortling away back there.” “Oh, indeed,” I said, a bit crossly. I touched the tender spot on my tongue. “Well, at least you’re awake. How do you feel?” “Like a pile of moldy tripes.” “Very picturesque,” I said. “Can you be a trifle more specific?” I put a hand lightly on his side, and he let his breath out in a sound like a small moan. “Like a pile of moldy tripes . . .” he said, and pausing to breathe heavily, added, “. . . .with maggots.” “You’d joke on your deathbed, wouldn’t you?” Even as I said it, I felt a tremor of unease. He would, and I hoped this wasn’t it. “Well, I’ll try, Sassenach,” he murmured, sounding drowsy. “But I’m no really at my best under the circumstances.” “Do you hurt much?” “No. I’m just . . . tired.”

He sounded as though he were in fact too exhausted to search for the proper word, and had settled for that one by default. “Little wonder if you are. I’ll go and sleep somewhere else, so you can rest.” I made to throw back the covers and rise, but he stopped me, raising one hand slightly.

“No. No, dinna leave me.” His shoulder fell back toward me, and he tried to lift his head from the pillow. I felt still more uneasy when I realized that he was too weak even to turn over by himself. “I won’t leave you. Maybe I should sleep in the chair, though. I don’t want to—”

“I’m cold,” he said softly. “I’m verra cold.” I pressed my fingers lightly just under his breastbone, seeking the big abdominal pulse. His heartbeat was rapid, shallower than it should have been. He wasn’t feverish. He didn’t just feel cold, he was cold to the touch, his skin chilled and his fingers icy. I found that very alarming.

No longer shy, I cuddled close against him, my breasts squashing softly against his back, cheek resting on his shoulder blade. I concentrated as hard as I could on generating body heat, trying to radiate warmth through my skin and into his. So often he had enfolded me in the curve of his body, sheltering me, giving me the warmth of his big body. I wished passionately that I were larger, and could do the same for him now; as it was, I could do no more than cling to him like a small, fierce mustard plaster, and hope I had the same effect.

fit the rounds of his buttocks. They tightened slightly in surprise, then relaxed. It occurred to me to wonder just why I felt I must lay hands on him, but I didn’t trouble my mind with it; I had had the feeling many times before, and had long since given up worrying that it wasn’t scientific. I could feel the faintly pebbled texture of the rash upon his skin, and the thought came unbidden of the lamia. A creature smooth and cool to the touch, a shape-shifter, passionately venomous, its nature infectious. A swift bite and the snake’s poison spreading, slowing his heart, chilling his warm blood; I could imagine tiny scales rising under his skin in the dark. I forcibly repressed the thought, but not the shudder that went with it.

“Claire,” he said softly. “Touch me.”

I couldn’t hear his heartbeat. I could hear mine; a thick, muffled sound in the ear pressed to the pillow. I slid my hand over the slope of his belly, and more slowly down, fingers parting the coarse curly tangle, dipping low to cup the rounded shapes of him. What heat he had was here. I stroked him with a thumb and felt him stir. The breath went out of him in a long sigh, and his body seemed to grow heavier, sinking into the mattress as he relaxed. His flesh was like candle wax in my hand, smooth and silky as it warmed. I felt very odd; no longer frightened, but with all my senses at once preternaturally acute and yet . . . peaceful. I was no longer conscious of any sounds save Jamie’s breathing and the beating of his heart; the darkness was filled with them. I had no conscious thought, but seemed to act purely by instinct, reaching down and under, seeking the heart of his heat in the center of his being.

Then I was moving—or we were moving together. One hand reached down between us, up between his legs, my fingertips on the spot just behind his testicles. My other hand reached over, around, moving with the same rhythm that flexed my thighs and lifted my hips, thrusting against him from behind. I could have done it forever, and felt that perhaps I did. I had no sense of time passing, only of a dreamy peace, and that slow, steady rhythm as we moved together in the dark. Somewhere, sometime, I felt a steady pulsing, first in the one hand, then in both. It melded with the beat of his heart. He sighed, long and deep, and I felt the air rush from my own lungs. We lay silent and passed gently into unconsciousness, together.

Cap 93 choices ~ THE FIERY CROSS

#outlander #outlanderedit #the frasers #outlander starz #jamie fraser #outlander series #outlander fanart #samheughan #jamie&claire #jamie and claire #dr claire randall #claire beauchamp #claire fraser #caitrionabalfe #outlander books #outlander season 5 #outlander 5x09

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doumadono · 6 months

Note

Hi! For sinful sunday, can i request bakugo and shoto with a sleepy yet horny s/o?

Warnings: aged-up Bakugo & Shoto

SINFUL SUNDAY

The soft rays of the early morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the bedroom. You stirred in your sleep, your body heavy with the remnants of dreams. Beside you, Katsuki Bakugo lay peacefully, his usually fiery demeanor replaced by tranquility. He'd always been an early riser, but this time, he had company.

Todoroki Shoto, with his signature half-cold, half-hot features, was curled up on the other side of the bed. He'd spent the night with you, and the peaceful aura of the room contrasted with the lingering intensity from the previous evening's activities.

As you began to wake, a drowsy need began to stir within you. You turned towards the two men, feeling a wave of desire wash over you. Your fingers lightly brushed against Shoto's hair, his cool touch sending shivers down your spine. Katsuki, sensing your restlessness, slowly opened his crimson eyes and met your gaze with an understanding smirk.

"I knew you wouldn't stay asleep for long," he grumbled playfully, shifting closer to you. Shoto, still half-asleep, nestled closer to your warmth.

Your lips curved into a mischievous smile. "Can I blame it on the two of you for being too tempting?"

Katsuki chuckled, and Shoto gave a contented sigh.

With a shared sense of desire, you pressed your lips to Katsuki's, kissing him softly. His mouth, warm and inviting, responded eagerly. He deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing your lips and delving inside to taste the lingering remnants of sleep on your tongue.

Shoto, not one to be left out, stirred beside you. He opened his mismatched eyes, the heterochromatic gaze settling on the passionate exchange between you and Katsuki. A slow, seductive smile crept across his lips as he watched, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your exposed thigh.

Feeling the combined attention of both men, your heart raced with anticipation. You broke the kiss with Katsuki, turning to Shoto. His touch, cool and tantalizing, sent delightful shivers through your body. You leaned in and claimed his lips in a passionate kiss, a dance of fire and ice.

Katsuki's hand slid along your side, his touch igniting sparks of pleasure wherever he roamed. You moaned softly into Shoto's mouth, and he reciprocated by exploring every inch of your tongue, a sensual tease that left you yearning for more.

The room was filled with the soft sounds of your shared desires, a symphony of pleasure and longing. Katsuki's fingers traced higher, finding the edge of your sleep-tousled shirt. He tugged it upward, exposing your heated skin to the cool of the morning. Shoto's cool fingers traced your curves, slowly making their way to the apex of your desire.

You slowly grinded your ass against Bakugo's crotch, feeling his hardness tenting his sweatpants.

The room felt like it was heating up, matching the rising intensity of your desires. Katsuki, emboldened by the electrifying atmosphere, moved his hand further, fingers sliding beneath your lace panties. He touched your wetness, and you couldn't help but arch your back, a gasp escaping your lips. As sleepy as you were, you were highly aware of what was happening. "Katsuki…"

Shoto, his own need growing, let his lips travel down your body, leaving a trail of hot kisses along your collarbone, your chest, and down to your sensitive breasts after he raised your shirt up. He sucked on a pert nipple, causing a sharp jolt of pleasure to shoot through you. The contrast between his icy breath and Katsuki's fiery touch sent waves of sensation coursing through your body. "Fuck…"

You reached down to the waistbands of Katsuki's and Shoto's sweatpants, eager to return their favor. With a quick, teasing touch, you freed their hardened dicks from their confines. Katsuki groaned against your neck as you began stroking him, your fingers finding a steady rhythm that matched the rising urgency of your desires. He licked your pulse point, nibbling at the column of your neck, slowly bucking his hips into your hand wrapped tighly around his hardening penis.

Todoroki let you stroke his cock, making out with you slowly, his tongue dancing with yours as he was panting in your mouth whenever your fingers were pushing the skin of his dick down the shaft, reveling pink, mushroom head of his cock.

Soon, Shoto moved down and knelt between your legs and parted them gently, tugging your shorts and panties down your legs, taking them off in the process. His cool breath sending a delicious chill across your heated core. He buried his face between your thighs, his tongue eagerly tracing the contours of your pussy, lapping slowly all over your slit and citoris. The sensations from both men drove you to the edge of ecstasy. "Fuck," you whined, parting your legs wider for Todoroki, slipping your free hand into his messy hair, pushing his face closer to your dripping cunt.

Moans and gasps filled the room as you surrendered to the passionate symphony of touch and taste. You were caught in the sweet whirlwind of desire, and it seemed like there was no turning back. With every stroke, every lick, and every kiss, you inched closer to that explosive climax that awaited you.

"Make some space, Icy-Hot," Katsuki growled lowly, slipping two of his fingers into your cunt as you were jerking his cock. The intensity reached a fever pitch as Katsuki's fingers worked their magic, his touch growing more urgent. Your moans filled the air, music to his ears.

Shoto, relentless in his devotion, continued his passionate assault on your sensitive clit, his tongue flicking and circling with precision while jerking his cock at fast pace, panting into your cunt.

Sensations swirled around you, an intoxicating whirlwind of pleasure. The dual sensations of hot and cold, the touch and taste, all converged on your body. You could feel the storm building inside you, a tempest of ecstasy about to be unleashed.

With each thrust from Katsuki's digits and every skillful lap from Shoto, you felt yourself teetering on the edge. The world around you blurred, and nothing mattered except the shared connection and overwhelming pleasure. In that electrifying moment, you couldn't hold back any longer. Your body tensed, and a primal cry of pleasure erupted from your lips. Wave after wave of intense climax coursed through you, leaving you breathless and utterly sated. "Boys, oh fuck, fuck!"

Katsuki and Shoto, watching you with adoration, felt the pulsating contractions of your release against their touch.

As your own climax subsided, you found yourself surrounded by the heavy breathing of your two lovers. Katsuki, his own desire reaching its peak, could no longer contain himself. He let out a guttural groan and shuddered against your touch as you squeezed his throbbing shaft. His release spilled over your fingers, thick and warm, and he continued to quiver in the aftershocks of his intense pleasure. "Oh, you dirty, little slut," he grunted into your ear, nibbling your earlobe.

Shoto, not far behind, increased the intensity of his licks on your overstimulated pussy. Your moans and the sight of Katsuki's release pushed him to the edge. With a final, languid lick and a knowing look in his heterochromatic eyes, he succumbed to his own climax. His cool breath turned warm, and he pressed his lips to your core as he groaned into your sensitive flesh as his seed spilled over his long fingers, dripping down on the sheets.

The room was filled with the heady scent of desire and the symphony of shared ecstasy. The three of you lay intertwined, the aftermath of your passionate union evident in the sheen of sweat on your bodies and the shared looks of contentment in your eyes.

As the echoes of your climactic pleasure subsided, you found yourself in the arms of your two lovers, your bodies entwined and your hearts connected. The day had truly begun, and it promised to be one filled with passion, desire, and a love that knew no bounds.

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songsofadelaide · 6 months

Text

Embrace you

tw/cw: set in 2018, female reader, established relationship, fluff, slice of life, slow mornings, literal sleeping together— and Sukuna talks in Yuuji's head lol wc: 469

Yuuji was not an early riser.

But something made him rise from his comfortable sleep on his— your bed that morning. When he surveyed the surroundings, Nobara and Megumi were nowhere to be found, but the evidence of last night's hangout was there— the wrappers of chips and sweets and empty cans of cola all bunched up in a single plastic bag that lay inconspicuously beside your full trash can.

You were still fast asleep beside him, undoubtedly cosy underneath all the covers and more. And when he lifted the sheets to dive in once more, seeing as there were only the two of you there with all the time in the world, he discovered something else.

Yellow—

Yuuji was filled with the overwhelming urge to embrace you when he found you wearing his favourite hoodie— a yellow one gifted to him by his senpais from Sugisawa Third High's Occult Club— as thanks for bailing them out of their predicament back then (His last yellow hoodie was destroyed when Sukuna got out after he swallowed the first finger) and as a parting gift since he had to move to Tokyo soon afterwards.

It wouldn't hurt to hold you, right? If he moved carefully, he could wrap his arms around your figure and pull you close—

[ "Listen, brat, if you're not going to hold her, then I will—" ]

Oh. Sukuna must be writhing in annoyance right now. Not that Yuuji cared, though. What he did care about was having to wake you from the sudden contact— so imagine his surprise when you reached out to him instead, clinging onto him as you slept through the early morning, not a care in the world and not at all noticing how his heart was in hysterics.

"Ahh, she smells so good, too," Yuuji couldn't help but sigh to himself as you curled up even closer to him.

A tiny groan escaped your lips, prompting him to cradle your face in fear you might have been hurt somewhere.

"Mmgood morning to you, too, Yuuji-kun," you said as your eyes met with his, your voice still dripping in sleepiness and a bit of sweetness.

He swallowed the lump in his throat before eventually replying, "G-Good morning…"

You gave him a lazy smile. "Wanna sleep in? It's our day off, after all."

Yuuji made himself comfortable, slowly shifting to bury his face in the crook of your neck this time.

"I'll take that as a yes, then," you chuckled, the sound of your laughter reverberating against his cheek. Oh, if only all his mornings started like this… But he knows that this is a luxury, and one he doesn't intend on wasting.

"You smell really good, you know."

You laughed again as you threaded your fingers through his hair. "I heard you the first time."

#songsofadelaidewrites💛#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #itadori yuji x reader #itadori x reader #itadori yuji x y/n #itadori yuji x you #yuji fluff #we live for slow mornings

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month

Text

To a Tea 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A demanding customer grows increasingly needy.

Character: Raymond Smith

The title is a pun, don’t @ me.

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved.

You don’t often miss work, but that week, a burst pipe throws everything off. A morning spent waiting on your landlord, then the next few hours for a plumber, has things a bit off kilter. Even the next day, you’re not quite back on point.

The patched wall next to fridge reminds you of the disaster and a dingy smell persists. You hope it doesn’t cling to you as you set off for your shift that day. If you can, you want to pick up some hours from others if their up for grabs. Harry doesn’t like Saturday’s, maybe he’ll hand over some.

You try to leave your problems behind as you catch a bus down to the city centre. You get to the tea shop five minutes before the hour. Jenna’s wrapping up the opening tasks as you go to leave your things in the back. You tie on your apron and unlock the front door for the first customers of the day.

At first, it’s a trickle. Never very much at all. The early risers who often come alone or if they aren’t, they don’t speak much or very loudly. The smell of fresh baking and the slow rising sun add to the lazy din.

“Thought the special was strawberry today,” you comment as you transfer macarons from a cooled tray to the display.

“Eh, it was but we didn’t have enough jam,” she shrugs. “Changed the sign, is all.”

“Ah, thought my mind was lagging again. Everything’s been off since yesterday.”

“Eh, how’s the apartment, anyhow? Marilyn said it was something about a leak?”

“Burst pipe,” you explain, “they took out the wall above the sink, buncha clanging all day. When I tell you this place is like heaven.”

She chuckles, “can be.”

“There’s a formal tea booked in the Marigold Room at noon,” she intones, “forgot to mention that. With Mother’s day coming up, suppose we’ll get more bookings.”

“Suppose,” you go to check the schedule hanging on the wall. “Party of twelve, wow.”

“I’ll man the till. Honest, since those ladies at New Years, I’ve hated doing them.”

“No problem, Harry should be here, shouldn’t he?”

“Well, he’s... called in.”

“Again?” You whine as you face her.

“Are you really surprised?” She scoffs.

“No one else to cover? Not even Louisa?”

“Nah, she’s on holiday still.”

You huff, “fine. Not much of a choose then, is it?”

🫖

The tea room is as close to raucous as you’ve ever heard it. You have your back to the rest of the shop as you balance the stacked serving trays with an array of sponge cake, fruit, and biscuits. It’s the typical assortment for a tea party booking.

You’ve already served the tea and the sandwiches, and dessert is the last bit, along with any further pots needed to be steeped throughout. With a partner, it isn’t hard to keep up, but alone, it’s rather overwhelming. Jenna does her best to assist but there aren’t many lulls around lunch time.

Beyond that, the tourists are chatty. You could hardly get away to fetch each course as they wanted to chat about the culture and your suggestions of what they should do next. It’s nice that they’re friendly but still stressful.

You put the trays on the cart and roll it around the counter. As you do, you nearly skid to a halt. In the rush, you hadn’t noticed him. Your eyes meet Raymond’s as he watches you. Intent, intense. You give an apologetic smile and nod in acknowledgement. Jenna wanted to deal with the main room, she’ll have to wipe down his table and do her best.

You roll behind the wall and into the Marigold room. You present the tray and grab it by the ring at the top, lifting it onto the centre of the table. You roll around to gather the empty plates and cups, taking two pots for refill.

You come back out and see Raymond standing, just as he was. He sees you too. Watching, hands folded, knuckles white, jaw set. He’s usually patient but you don’t know how long he’s been waiting.

You roll behind the counter and sigh, clearing off the cart as Jenna steams a tea latte.

“Can you wipe Raymond’s table?” You ask.

“Who?” She furrows her brow.

You glance over your shoulder toward the man in question and she follows. She rolls her eyes, “I tried, I wiped the the table. He didn’t sit.”

“Hm, well... did you wash your hands first?”

“Christ Almighty, what is he a child?”

“Jen, he’s just... you know, my mom’s the same. He can’t help it.”

“You can deal with him. I won’t be arsed,” she sniffs, “he was rude and you know I don’t got time for those ones.”

“Jenna, I’m kinda up to my eyes,” you dump the used bags from a pot. “I know he can be prickly but just wash your hands and redo the table.”

“Ugh, fine,” she sneers, “but you owe me.”

“Let’s call it even,” you retort as you pour boiling water into the pots mouth.

She shakes her head and huffs, “guess it is.”

🫖

It’s nearly three in the afternoon. It’s quiet. Harry’s on his phone instead of doing the cups and your wiping the empty tables to keep yourself moving. The door opens and you glance over to make sure Harry’s alert. He’s not.

Doesn’t matter. It’s him. Raymond. You stand and clutch the cloth tight in your hand as you greet him.

“Be right with you, Raymond,” you assure him.

He barely looks at you as he goes to wait next to his table. You go behind the counter and mutter under your breath in Harry’s direction, “...dirty cups.” You wash your hands and make sure to clink some of the empty porcelain in an effort to draw your coworker’s attention. He’s still entranced by his phone.

You take the disinfectant wipes and go back out. You approach Raymond as he checks his watch.

“How are you today?” You ask.

He grumbles and shrugs, “fine.”

“English Breakfast, black,” you declares as you finish wiping up, “usual.”

“So you remember,” he challenges as he steps close, closer than ever, before sidling around to sit.

“Of course, I always do,” you smile.

“And last time?”

“Last time...”

“Twice.”

You’re confused. What is he talking about?

“I came on Tuesday and you weren’t here. Then on Thursday, you didn’t even say hello.”

“Oh, well, I’m sorry, Raymond, it was a busy day. Tuesday, I had a personal emergency so I didn’t even know you’d been in--”

“I’ll have my tea now,” he interjects tersely.

“Right, tea,” you confirm and spin around.

“Crooked strings,” he remarks dully, “again.”

#raymond smith #dark raymond smith #raymond smith x reader #dark!raymond smith #drabble #series #to a tea #sweet and spicy #the gentlemen #au

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historiaxvanserra · 1 year

Note

hi! can you do some morning headcanons for the bat boys? who wakes up first, how they wake you up, what they do first thing, ect,

Daylight | Morning Headcanons

Rhys

Rhys is usually gone before you wake up if he's got business to attend to.

He'll leave a note for you to find when you wake up-- it's usually something shamelessly flirty.

When you're awake he will have someone bring you your breakfast in bed.

By the time breakfast is over he'll be back from his morning duties to attend to you.

Usually, that means lying in bed together until noon.

Cassian

Cassian is definitely a morning person so he's usually up before you are.

He'll put off waking you for as long as he can but he just gets so impatient and bored waiting for you to wake up!

Like, he misses you.

He'll sneak out to the kitchen and maybe make some coffee and on days where he feels extra helpful he'll cook for you it's not very good though

By the time he's back, you're still asleep but he can see you're starting to stir.

He'll set the coffee down on the nightstand and climb back into bed, running his hands along your arms and his head is in the crook of your neck.

He'll touch you like this until you roll over into his arms breathing in his scent.

Lazy mornings in bed with Cassian usually lead to romantic morning sex as the sun filters through the curtains.

Azriel

Azriel sleeps very late. The sun is usually starting to rise by the time he drifts off to sleep.

That means you usually wake up first.

Azriel is so beautiful when he's sleeping. He looks peaceful; his hair is tousled in haphazard curls and his strong sculpted arms pull you into a comforting hug.

He'll spend all morning like this, following you across the bed whenever you try to move.

Sometimes he'll make little whines when you try to leave him in bed.

Running his fingers through your hair and whispering his words of devotion into your skin.

When he can finally bare to face the day he'll ask you to bathe with him before he has to leave.

The sigh on a towel hung low on his hips is enough to keep you in bed all day.

Eris

Eris is an early riser, he always had been, but now he doesn't get straight out of bed instead he likes to lie there sharing your body heat for as long as he can. He savours it.

He'll lay on his back, his hair loose and messy, he'll place an arm behind his head and the other will stroke slow circles on the skin of your bare shoulder.

He loves to have you close so when you snuggle closer to him, placing a hand on his bare chest, he'll smile sweetly at you.

Sometimes he'll sneak one of his beloved hounds into the bed and let it lay at his side as you sleep peacefully. truthfully mornings are his favourite time of day because it's when he can be his most authentic and vulnerable.

Once the staff begin to wake and carry out their morning duties he'll inform them that you do not want to be disturbed and his sweetness evolves into playfulness or passion.

His favourite way to wake you is his head between your thighs, he'll kiss his way up until he reaches your centre.

He starts slow until you're fully lucid and then he'll look up through thick lashes looking for his answer.

Not that you would ever deny him his favourite meal.

Lucien

Lucien is NOT a morning person at all. He is accustomed to late nights and late mornings.

You wake first most days and your quiet attempts at beginning the day are met with gentle groans from Lucien as he tosses and turns in the bed.

You like to apologise for waking him by crawling your way back into bed to lay with him.

You run your hands along his muscled shoulders and along his well-built arms, kissing softly his sunkissed skin.

He takes some convincing until he finally comes around.

When he does he'll turn to face you, bringing you to straddle his waist.

His hands will roam your body as he adjusts to the morning light as it begins to peak through the drawn curtains.

Morning kisses melt into passionate lovemaking that takes you until noon to finally drag yourselves into the washroom to bathe.

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madelynraemunson · 8 months

Text

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI I WILL HIT U WITH A CHAIR

Chapter 003: Best Buds

It’s BYOB (bring your own bud) night at Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club. With everyone under the influence, things start to get… a little complicated.

* = somewhat smut

** = smut

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

word count: 8k

warnings & disclaimers — slow burn, brief smut, p in v sex, protected sex, implications that steve is a long boi voyeurism, marijuana use, alcohol use, sexual harassment, physical altercations, NSFW, talks of a daddy/master kink, stripping, pole dancing, mutual pining, flirting, mentions of previous sexual abuse, profanities

* AUTHORS NOTE AT END OF CHAPTER ❤️‍🔥 *

_______________𓆩♡𓆪_______________

Chapter 002 recap

"Doing it for Max," you remind yourself while fixing your hair in the mirror in front of you.

You reach for your phone to see the amount of time that has transpired since the private show with Steve. But the clock wasn't your concern when your Home Screen lights up.

Your heart nearly sinks to the floor.

Billy Hargrove

1 Missed Call

Billy Hargrove iMessage: 1 message

You open it.

What the actual fuck.

_______________𓆩♡𓆪_______________

Chapter 003

♡

“Hi I’m Hell, it’s nice to meet ya.”

“FUCK! Oh my god — fuck!”

Steve Harrington is definitely not a loser.

An assortment of mewls and profanities fill the hot air of Steve’s bedroom as he fucks you mercilessly into the mattress, the frame of his bed rattling to the speed of his deep, punishing thrusts.

It’s 7 AM.

Though you’re typically not an early riser, you’re more inclined to be if you were promised this type of treatment every day.

“Fuck!” you squeal again, knuckles sheet-white from how tightly you’re holding onto Steve’s linens. “Right there, Steve…”

Steve’s grip, meanwhile, rests at either side of your hips as he pistons himself further into your sopping, spongy heat. Too cock-drunk to even form a coherent sentence, you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head while you take his unforgiving length from behind.

“Yeah, you like that baby?” he coos. “You like how deep I feel inside of you?”

You nod. “Yes… yes…I-I love it.”

“Looks like I’m fucking you back to sleep again, aren’t I?”

“M—mhm,” you manage to purr, reaching for one of Steve’s hands to grab a hold of.

In fact you’re already seeing stars. Sex with Steve is an extravagant experience. Now that he’s comfortable in your presence, Steve spent all night performing for you, abusing your soaking cunt to the tempo of every song on his playlist, catering to your every need in the form of profound and agile strokes, exploring every inch of your body with his firm and knowledgable tongue, all while refusing to stop until you yourself were finished.

You chant his name aimlessly as he plows into you further, tucking a pillow above your head to protect you from any sharp wooden corners. Another thing Steve prioritizes as well? Your safety. All night it’s been your pleasure first before his own. Now you know why everyone in town calls him the King.

“That’s it…” Steve praises you as you fall apart in front of him. He smacks you firmly across the ass. You whimper at the sensation, chasing your third orgasm of the hour by fucking him back, tossing your hips back onto him, not caring the slightest if it made you look desperate. You need his cock so bad. “That’s a good girl.”

CRASH!

Something falls from the bathroom at the end of the hall. A shampoo bottle maybe? It stuns you for a second, causing you to immediately reach for the top sheet to cover up your body. You listen for traces of his roommate’s presence.

“Uh…”

“Earthquake?” Steve jokes.

“Nope,” you smugly shake your head. “It’s just you.”

You rise from all fours to turn around and give Steve a quick kiss. Steve chuckles against your skin.

“Me? It’s a team effort, lady.”

“You’re right, it’s us.”

Steve wraps his arms around your waist and guides you back down onto the bed. Laying on your back now, you watch him as he spreads your legs apart. He smiles down at you as he lines himself up at your opening.

An impatient sigh escapes your mouth. He swoops down to silence you, planting a soft kiss onto your neck.

“Steve…” you whimper.

“I know, baby, I know,” he hushes you. “You’ll get it, just you wait.”

He continues to tease you, gliding his cock along the lining of your entrance. You bite your lip and shake your head, watching him as he glides, thrusting his tip in slowly before taking it back out once more. Then he slaps his cock against your puffy, glistening folds. Your whimpers grow louder.

“Are—” you lower your voice. “Are you sure we’re the only ones here?”

“Yeah,” Steve insists, mumbling against your ear. “The roomie’s with his sneaky link. We’re fine.”

“Birds of a feather,” you retort.

Steve flashes you a flirtatious glare. “I’d never keep you a secret.”

“Lies.”

“Oh yeah?” he challenges you.

What did he mean by that?

A gasp escapes your mouth before it’s even registered. Steve is inside once again, pounding into you with a pace so exhilarating, the room around you starts to blur. The little time you had to prepare leaves you both with a healthy amount of friction and resistance. You’re nearly screaming now as pressure builds between your hips and in your stomach, your pleas for more growing louder and louder with every pummeling thrust.

“If you call that keeping a secret, you’re pretty bad at it,” Steve kindly retorts, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck, beads of sweat dripping down his pomade-sculpted hair onto your breasts.

“Oh m-my fucking god,” you squeal breathlessly. You’re silenced by Steve’s fingers as they assert themselves into your mouth.

“Oh my fucking god is right, babydoll.”

He issues a delicate slap across your face. You bite your lip, gazing up at him with lust-filled eyes. Snarky King Steve is your favorite Steve.

“Keep going, Steve. Don’t fucking stop.”

Before you know it, he’s bending you like a pretzel, your legs at his shoulders, knees to the tip of your earlobes. Steve slams himself into you, excruciatingly fast and balls deep, all while his hand explores your mouth, then jaw, then find a home around your throat. Another delicate slap brushes across your face with his other hand, followed by a “Yeah, baby take it”, causing you to mewl even louder.

The sounds of skin slapping against each other begin to sound more wet with every thrust, the moans you two exude bounce off the walls as you fuck into each other. You feel your walls tighten at the same time his head starts to twitch.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking wet,” Steve huffs. “Do I feel that fucking good? Are you about to make a mess on me?”

“Yes,” you attempt to say. “I’m such a messy girl, Steve.”

“That you are,” he swoons, swooping down to plant kisses all over your face. “Messy. Dirty. Naughty. And all mine.”

Four more aggressive pumps into you and you’re both done for.

“Oh my god…”

“Fuck.”

“Holy shit.”

“Ohhh fuck.”

Giggles take the place of moans as you and Steve collapse onto one another. You two lay there in disbelief, then share another laugh followed by a high five.

“Good game,” Steve jests.

“Rematch later?” you wink.

Although Steve doesn’t answer, you know it’s a yes. As you roll over to drift off into a small recovery nap you feel another slap land on your ass, followed by the sound of the trusty rubber rolling off your partner’s cock.

“So fucking beautiful.”

——

9 AM

After care is essential for Steve. Lover boy loves to cuddle. He’s there when you wake up, arms snaked around you, with gleaming eyes and a rather itchy peach fuzz that you didn’t stumble upon until he was giving raspberries to your neck.

“You lasted longer this time,” you comment teasingly. You issue him a delicate boop on the nose.

“Yeah, cuz we’ve been doing it all night,” Steve tsks. “You caught me off guard the first time around, Hargrove.”

You pout. “Aww. Was I kicking you when you were already down?”

Steve pulls you to his chest, giving you a squeeze the further you lean into him. “You absolutely were, you devil woman.” He kisses your forehead and beams down at you with a smile.

“Good morning, by the way.”

“Good morning to you too.”

“Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

So you two rinse up together, and Steve lets you borrow one of his t-shirts to parade around his luxury townhouse in. He did offer you some basketball shorts he had lying around on his couch, but you decide that hopefully, in just his shirt and your new lace black panties, it would entice him for round five.

Suddenly your phone buzzes. It’s Max.

Hey where r u?

You bite your fingernails as you contemplate a believable answer. Where could you possibly be if your supposed shift ended two hours ago?

Post shift mimosas with coworkers. Be back around noon.

You wait. Buzz.

As you should 🤪

You smile before exiting out of your conversation with Max. It vanishes quickly when you remember there’s still a text you haven’t responded to.

What the actual fuck.

It’s been a week now since Billy sent that text. And with him being the type to spam, it’s strange that he hasn’t called or texted again. Especially since it had been Max’s birthday.

You shudder, overwhelmed with a sense of panic yet again. In hopes of postponing reality to the next day, you plant your phone face down onto Steve’s bedside table. It all made you feel stupid. Like an infant who believed they were hiding just by closing their eyes.

You walk out into the hallway and find Steve in the kitchen, frantically trying to find you something to eat.

“We need to go shopping again,” Steve announces. “So the only choices right now are eggs, sausage, toast, cereal..and the Cuties over there.”

You make your way over to grab a tangerine while you browse the cereal section.

“Well, I had sausage this morning,” you joke. “And a cutie. So I’ll go with eggs and toast please.”

“Coming right up. Sunny side?”

“Scrambled.”

“Anything for you.”

You claim a seat at the messy kitchen island, decorated by mountains of bills and guy stuff galore. As Steve is cooking, you sit and admire the man who Hawkins calls the King.

Steve tries. It shows in everything he does. Behind every positive attribute about the man, looms a cautionary energy accompanied by a sense of guilt. It’s almost if “King Steve” refuses to take up space. Something, or someone, made him this way. Made him so guarded and delicate, yet so willing to give and help.

Before you know it, Steve hands you your Shy Girl-tailored breakfast, fluffy golden eggs with golden buttered toast to match, served with a glass of orange juice on the side. You thank him and he nods, tossing a dish rag over his shoulder and walking to the sink to clean up. With how sweet Steve is with you in bed and on a friendship level, the sole idea of him makes you wonder what he’d be like — years from now — as his one real dream: a husband, a dad…

The sound of a toilet flushing jolts you back into focus. Both you and Steve freeze in place.

“Shit,” Steve sighs.

Roomie is home.

Steve quickly wipes his hands and darts to his room, scurrying to find a shirt to mask the hickeys you left on his chest. Meanwhile you scramble to the couch to find the basketball shorts you passed him up on earlier. You didn’t want to give his roommate the wrong impression, though you kind of feel like you did, screaming like a banshee because you thought no one was home.

You’re tunnel-visioned as you scan the couch for shorts. Let’s see… TV remote, no — football, no — random backpack and baseball cap —

Wait. Is that a Hellfire shirt?

Your eyes widen. It can’t be. Steve wouldn’t withhold such vital information from you, would he? Maybe Steve really likes supporting Eddie’s business.

But then you think about it. You really think about it.

You think about Steve’s comment he made as he was leaving Hellfire. "Yeah. I gotta get going now. I got laundry to put away at home."

At home.

“The roomie won't be home…”

The use of “the roomie” instead of “my roomie”. Typically “the” is only used if someone knows of the person being mentioned. At least that’s how you yourself word things anyway.

“The roomie’s with his sneaky link.”

Eddie’s lady friend. Eddie only goes to see her during the most ungodly hours because she’s a bartender.

You feel so stupid. For more reasons than one.

Eventually you find Steve’s basketball shorts and throw them on, running back to the kitchen island where you then try to play cool. You turn back to the scattered envelopes laying around the island — all addressed to an Edward Munson.

In the words of your twin brother, what the actual fuck.

“WOOO — Harrington!” a familiar sing-song voice echoes from down the hall. “You definitely don’t wanna go in there!”

You recognize that voice from anywhere.

Whistling sounds from the end of the narrow hall. Coming out of the bathroom was none other than your boss, dressed down in a black muscle tank that revealed his avant-garde black and white tattoos, and royal blue gym shorts. His hair was up in a messy half-bun, the loose curls that were too short tie up are a cluster of anarchy around his face.

You make it into Eddie’s periphery, but he doesn’t do a double take until he realizes it’s you.

“Oh hey!” he greets you, somewhat expressionless. “You on tonight?”

As if seeing you in his apartment is the most casual thing ever.

You’re completely swamped with humiliation. It’s bad enough that Eddie practically heard you scream bloody murder, but now he knows exactly what you’re like in bed. He knows how you like to be handled. How embarrassingly cock-drunk you get when your partner hits the right spot. How pornographic and raunchy you act when you’re with the right person.

You’re also dressed like Adam Sandler. So there’s that.

It takes everything in you not to grab your stuff and leave. But it is that same ick in your body that keeps you glued onto the bar stool of the island.

“Y-yeah,” you huff. “Sure, I’ll work.”

“Totally should…” Eddie sings again. “Midweek is always popping. Everyone always wants a lil sumn sumn on Friday Junior-Junior.”

You study Eddie as he strides over to the fridge, insipid and unbothered. Tired, if anything.

Steve comes out of his room with his own Hellfire shirt on, trying his best to keep his cool as he clears his throat. “I, uh… I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.”

“That makes the three of us,” Eddie laughs dryly as he rummages through the fridge. “But here I am…”

You observe him as he hums along to a random tune, scanning the fridge for something quick and easy. He settles for what looks like coffee creamer, which brings you back to the time that Dustin said Eddie operates on coffee and an empty stomach.

You try to focus on something else. Anything. Eyes-a-wandering, you catch sight of Steve’s old championship trophies from his high school swim meets, pictures of him and his boujee ass family at TopGolf, pictures of him with old friends at an actual golf course, glass cups from breweries all around Indiana and The States, and the expensive smart electronics that ornamented the place.

But not a single trace of Eddie and his life or family. The mystery of him sucks you in a little more.

Eddie stalks towards you, extending an arm across to pick up the bills waiting for him on the table. The world stops for a moment.

“Sorry for the mess,” Eddie apologizes. “The maid took the night off.”

An inferno pools at your cheeks. Was the ‘mess’ remark a jab towards you? Your thighs clench when the flashbacks of morning sex with Steve replay in your head. “Are you about to make a mess on me?”

“You’re fine,” you manage to say.

Eddie proceeds to pour himself a drip coffee then douses it in an unreasonable amount of hazelnut creamer.

You cringe at the sight. Sometimes a crush is just a lack of information.

Steve attempts to speak to serve as a filler for awkward tension, but you beat him to it.

“S-”

"So," you press. "How are things with the lady friend?"

Eddie makes a sour face. "Called it off," he shrugs. "Well, she did."

Your ears slightly perk up.

You feign a tone of dismay. "Oh no! What happened?”

"Guess our lifestyles don't mesh well with one another,” Eddie rolls his eyes, as if he knew it was some sort of excuse. He draws on about the ordeal. “She doesn't like that I'm always at work. I can only see her in the early hours of the morning, and with the amount of paperwork I have to do, I’d honestly rather be spending my free time sleeping or playing video games."

"Well, you should stop working so much,” Steve suggests. “It could help balance shit out more.”

Eddie snaps his neck at Steve.

"You think I didn't think about that already?" he scowls through gritted teeth. "It’s like the moment Eddie's gone, everyone forgets how to do their jobs. I always gotta come in to make sure they’re all staying on task.”

He turns to you.

“Take Mike for instance,” he explains. “Fucking chickenwithhisheadcutoff. Lights are on, but nobody’s home.”

You laugh.

“He was the one who forgot to take inventory on the 10th and 11th,” Eddie pops a scoop full of Honey Combs into his mouth. “Yet he was asking me if he could bring his girlfriend to the club.”

“Ohh,” is all you can say.

“I don’t mind all that lovey dovey shit,” Eddie mutters between bites. “But if it’s gonna distract him from working, that’s where there’s a problem.”

“Totally reasonable dude,” you agree.

“Yeah, Mike gets really distracted when El’s around,” Steve pitches in.

Eddie nods. “Ed’s got his own set of rules for a reason. The Munson Doctrine is a byproduct of when all the things that can possibly go wrong, have gone wrong.”

You watch Eddie stroll towards the windows by the balcony and prop them open, an indicator that he’s about to smoke. He grabs a tiny bowl that he seemed to know was laying around and loads it up with bud. He lights up and takes several large hits.

“So what’s everyone’s plans for tonight?” Eddie questions eyes darting between you both.

You and Steve didn’t think that far.

“Not too sure yet,” Steve answers for you two. “I do know we gotta go shopping again.”

“Tell me about it,” Eddie nods towards the cereal. “Tired of eating hamster food every morning.”

Eddie takes another hit, coughing away the excess like a madman.

“I’m hosting another BYOB night at Hellfire with the frens again,” Eddie continues once he calms down. “Been a minute. You should swing by.”

“Bring your own booze?” you ask.

“Getting warmer.” Eddie replies.

“Beer?”

“Cooler now.”

“Then what?”

“Bud,” Eddie replies raspily, nodding at his own amusement. “We’re still a red state, so we get our shit from Illinois. BYOB is specifically for the party. Edibles only, for obvious reasons. Still a fun time though.”

“Cross-faded on a random Tuesday, what’s more enticing than that?” Steve says. You’re not sure if he’s sarcastic or not.

“Exactly, Harrington!” Eddie hollers. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

“Is Nance gonna be there?”

Record scratch. Eddie looks at Steve like he asked a dumb question.

“She works there.”

“You know what I mean,” Steve glares at Ed.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Is Nancy gonna be at the table? No, probably not. You know her. Total opposite of Mike. When she’s at work, she’s at work.”

“Yeah...” Steve mutters with a sigh. “Alright, fine. I’ll think about it. What else ya doing today before this?”

Eddie explains that after paperwork and grocery shopping, he plans to go over to Chrissy’s place to look at her car. It causes your heart to flutter. Business owner, manager, cook, music fanatic, and mechanic? Mr. Jack-of-All-Trades after your heart again.

Eddie shakes his head, evidently overwhelmed with all the responsibilities on his lap. “Hellfire would crash and burn without Cherry.”

“Wow, you do so much,” you comment, attempting to uplift him. He grins at your remark. You decide keep going. “Anything you can’t do?”

You feel Steve stare between you both, then clear his throat as he paces around the kitchen.

“Stop it,” Eddie chuckles, growing slightly flustered with his pink-tainted cheeks. “Kinda true though. I do everything and anything.”

“Yeah, especially for Chrissy Cunningham,” Steve jeers.

“That’s also true,” Eddie shrugs, attempting to conceal his now fully flustered face. “We done now?”

“We are actually,” Steve says. “Lucky for you, I gotta go get ready.”

Steve shoots you a wink and then excuses himself back to his room. Meanwhile, it’s just you and the other man you have a burning crush on.

Something shifts when Steve disappears. To shake off the unknown feeling that’s mingling in the air, you make your way over to the fridge. You hope that pretending to be busy excuses you from another conversation.

But before you know it, you feel Eddie’s stern — and marijuana-laced — breath on you just moments later. The torment is never ending.

The moment you turn, you’re met with Eddie’s big brown eyes. He speaks first.

“I was joking, you know.”

Whatever banter that was being exchanged earlier has now switched off. The pitch of Eddie’s voice has dropped a few frequencies, and that act alone captures your attention. Shooting your gaze towards him, your brow lifts.

“Huh?”

“You don’t have to work tonight,” he elaborates shoving his hands into his pockets. “We’re well staffed. There’s a seat for you at the table… if you’d like to come with.”

“I’m your friend?”

“I thought it was clear.”

“You haven’t even taken me to lunch yet.”

“You haven’t given me the chance.”

Fair play, Munson. Eddie waits for you to talk. You study your superior as he studies you, his chocolate eyes slowly becoming eclipsed by the widening of his jet black pupils. Hunger was unknown feeling that was mingling. It’s burning in your stomach now. Its essence that lingered between you both is the only thing keeping you two from standing any closer.

“Cross faded on a Tuesday,” you repeat Steve’s sentiment. “Sounds like a Friday ordeal.”

“Well when you work as much as I do, you try to make every day feel like Friday.”

Oh this man is stressed stressed. Something in Eddie’s hopeful stare convinces you that a simple “yes” would make him a little happier about tonight. But you don’t want to seem too into it.

“I’ll think about it,” you tease.

“Ah, come on…” Eddie tuts. “Steve will be there.”

You blush.

“And your ol’ boss,” Eddie ominously adds, propping his shoulder against the fridge as he leans. “If that counts for anything.”

Another loose strand of hair from his bun falls across his face. He shakes it away with a cinematic nod. You feel stupid for falling for your Eddie’s natural charisma. He does it with everybody, you remind yourself. It’s what makes him a good business man. You aren’t anything special.

“Will there be wings?” you decide to deal the inside joke you share.

“Flats only,” Eddie insists, feeding into it.

“Now that sounds like a good time.”

“Always is, sweetheart,” Eddie grins. “Can’t wait for you to experience it.”

Before he too excuses himself, Eddie hugs you, doing the verbal kiss on the side of your cheek once more before letting go. It never fails to leave you in a puddle.

No rizz, my ass Dustin, you think to yourself.

“See you there then, gorgeous?”

“You sure will.”

And just as quickly as Eddie disappears, Steve returns, sporting a basic grey Patagonia tee and khaki colored Dickies. His sunglasses dangle from the center collar of his shirt, his green and yellow “Camp Know Where” dad hat clipped onto the same belt loop that housed the keys to his BMW.

He meets you halfway by the island, giving you a soft kiss once more.

“I’ll let you hold onto that shirt,” he says. “It looks good on you.”

“Why thank you,” you reply. “Smells just like you too.”

You wrap your arms around his neck just as he does your waist before they explore the birthmark region of your lower back. Your breath hitches.

“I should probably stop,” Steve bites his lip. “I gotta walk you to your car.”

“I know, maybe next time,” you frown. “Also, you didn’t tell me Eddie’s your roommate.”

Steve’s face falters slightly. “I… didn’t think it’d matter.”

He’s right. Ultimately it didn’t matter. If you didn’t shut up, you’d tell right on yourself.

“I know!” you end up saying way too enthusiastically. “It’s just that he, uh, heard everything.”

Steve dismisses it. “Let him,” he says. “I’m sure he hears and sees it all at the club anyways.”

Steve bites the bullet and gives your ass cheeks a tight squeeze. “Besides, he can watch if he’d like. We’ll give him a little show…”

Your breathing scatters again, to which you give Steve a playful nudge.

“You’re unbelievable.That’s where your dirty little mind goes?”

“What can I say?” King Steve smirks, forehead pressed against yours now. “I’m a voyeur.”

“Clearly,” you wink.

Birds of a feather. As much as you didn’t want it to, your mind wanders back to Eddie and how he is most likely a voyeur too. Why else would Hellfire be an asset of his?

The entire commute home is spent fantasizing about both Steve and Eddie. You have absolutely no idea what you're doing and what to do in this situation. Would this even be considered a triangle considering how casual everything appears to be?

With everything unknown there is one thing is for sure: tonight, both of them are getting some kind of show from you.

—————————————————

‘Friday Junior Junior’ is relatively staffed.

Mike and Dustin flicker across the room, darting back and forth to bus tables as soon as customers leave. Skating on the thin ice he’s on, Mike works quickly and efficiently, while Dustin takes his sweet time, attempting to multitask while talking to Suzie, one AirPod in at all times.

“Yeah, babe, I’m in Kas’ Korner,” Dustin lies. “Doing some food packing.”

You watch him as he wipes the table quickly after spraying some cleaning solution onto it, eyes glued to the job in front of him instead of center stage. He does sneak a quick glance at Chrissy, though. Then looks around to see if anyone noticed. You do, but you pretend not to. It’s funny.

“I’ve seen her get richer in the pole, I’ve seen her. I knew she had to know.”

You're sat between Steve and Eddie at the VIP table, watching Chrissy alongside everyone else. Joining you three are Argyle and Henry, who both were miraculously able to find themselves coverage. Jim is bouncer for tonight, while Lucas has the kitchen covered after months of begging Eddie and Argyle to let him cook.

Looking over at Steve, you see him beaming up at Chrissy and decide to join him in showering her with his — many — dollar bills. Argyle joins in too, to your concern since he promised the group he'd buy everyone drinks when you guys all go bar-hopping later.

"Chrissy is amazing," you sigh, shaking your head in pure admiration for the starlet dancing in front of you.

"Isn't she?" Eddie responds. He delves into his pocket to pull out his phone. "All the ladies here are pure and absolute fuego."

Drawing your attention to his device, Eddie opens an album in his camera roll titled, "Hellfire Girls". He starts showing you short clips of the dancers, one by one, explaining what they're doing and how in awe he is of them.

“I notice that the girls like wearing pasties for tops that tend to have spaghetti straps or very little fabric coverage,” he says. “Or for when they don't feel like showing their tits. Saves you too when The Girls decide to pop out when you’re upside down. Always the fucking left one too."

You giggle at his remark.

The eloquence and respect Eddie has about the female body and wardrobe mechanics has you enticed. It's evident how much Eddie respects women and values their comfort. But he is also a man, and it's no secret that someone like him enjoys watching. And Eddie is never shy to admit when he likes what he sees.

He shows you another video of another dancer, Emmy.

“Emmy’s a fucking beast,” Eddie gushes. “She can do a split right from her side straddle. Kassidy’s the same, but the Pegasus is more of her strength. Lady’s got arms and core for days. It’s fucking hot."

He swipes again.

"And Justice knows how to do a Dragon's Tail, it’s a crowd favorite.”

Eddie's already had a few drinks tonight, so the filter he already seemed to lack is practically non-existent now. Steve is on the same boat, downing his third cocktail and not giving a damn how much he blows tonight on the dancers. You all the while, are one dangerous cocktail in and are already horny out of your mind. It doesn't help that Jonathan has a heavy pour, and that every drink he makes tastes like juice.

"Cheers to that," you smirk, raising your glass to clink with Eddie's.

“I’ve seen her take down that tequila. Down by the liter. I knew I had to meet her.”

"Maketh way everyone," Henry announces, asserting himself back into the VIP section after leaving not too long ago. “Bottle service a-la-Henry."

You turn to Hellfire’s bouncer, who ditched the casual attire tonight for a more classy black formal suit and a matching Rolex watch. His sandy blonde hair is extra sleeked up and away from his face. According to Henry, he never usually dresses up unless there's a special occasion. You suppose BYOB night is one of those events.

Henry acknowledges the cocktail in your hand before nodding towards the bottle of Don Julio that he’s holding.

"Tell me, Shy Girl," Henry starts. "You up to ditch that for something a bit more challenging?"

Eddie fires a curious look towards the interaction.

You eye the Don Julio that was luring you in, and ultimately decide to take Henry up on it. Flashing him a sinister smile, you instruct him, “Hit me.”

Henry slowly starts towards you, tilting your chin upwards once he pops the cap open. With your consent he starts to pour the tequila down into your mouth.

Fuck being responsible tonight.

An array of "WOOO"s and "OHHH"s fill the air around the VIP section as everyone cheers, shocked that you’re able to chug all of that without it burning. Little did they know, Don Julio tastes just like home. Well, south of the border from home.

After holding down your own fort for way too long, you've decided that someone else needs to be handed that baton for tonight. Since you didn't tell Henry to stop, you're still chugging what he was pouring into your mouth. You know it’s risky, especially since you had two edible gummies several minutes ago as well.

“Oh my god,” Eddie gawks as you settle for a final gulp.

“Shy Girl’s not so shy,” Steve comments, absent-mindedly, arms wrapped around your waist as he keeps you propped upwards. "Good job, baby. That's how you do it."

“That’s it, Hargrove," Henry smirks. "Swallow all that for me?”

You peer up at him and hold your eye contact as you swallow, making sure Henry knows that there's no more alcohol left in your mouth. Everyone knows you championed that shit. When you’re done, he wipes the remnants of tequila off your bottom lip.

"This one's dangerous, Eds," he comments, completely shocked by what he just witnessed.

"Don't I know it," Eddie breathes. "Not really living up to the Shy Girl name, are we Hargrove?"

You feel Steve's grip around your waist tighten. Assuming he was being possessive over you, you turn to offer him your undivided attention. Instead, you end up looking over at a clearly intoxicated Steve, leaning onto you for gait support as he smothers you with affectionate kisses all over your shoulders, ear, and neck.

"Shy Girl," Steve mumbles. "Shy Girl Hargove... Not-So-Shy-Shy-Girl."

You turn back to Eddie, meeting those carnivorous eyes once again. He's breathing heavily against you now, that this time he's not even hiding it.

"Yeah well the Shy Girl thing is all an act," you quip at Eddie flirtaciously. "Looks like there's still a lot for you to learn about me."

Eddie rolls his tongue around in his cheek as he eyes you up and down. He presses his palm gently onto your knee that rested closer to him and rubs it. "Can I crash your class then? Professor?"

Before you can respond, Chrissy bounces her way on over, ecstatic over the amount of tips she made.

"Wh- are you guys all drinking without me?" she exclaims when she approaches the table.

You turn to see her pouting ever so playfully, but then smiling when Argyle hands her a shot of the Don Julio. She too downs it like it's water.

"WOOO!" Chrissy cheers, raising the empty shot glass into the air. "To Hellfire Club!"

"To Hellfire Club!" everyone follows.

Everyone resumes taking shots and celebrating once again, this time with Chrissy joining the party. You watch Eddie as he feeds her an edible, another one allegedly, upon her request. He rests a delicate hand on her cheek, watching her chew, then grazes her cheek when she swallows the gummy, eyes glued on him the entire time.

“Good girl,” he mouths.

Chrissy flashes a playful, flirty grin before excusing herself from the table to go and give patrons a dance. She is stopped midway by a familiar, friendly face.

"Aht, aht," the friendly face stops her. "Not so fast, missy. I have some stuff for you."

"Oh, that's right!" Chrissy giggles. "Thanks, Nance."

To Steve's utter shock, House Mom Nancy makes her way to the VIP table. You feel him tense beside you, attempting to sit up straight and pretend that he's sober. You and Steve take in Nancy's effortless beauty, the way her straight brown hair was neatly kept in a bun, black square neck cocktail dress with transparent black tights underneath fitting her body like a glove, with nails that were always cleaned, polished, and painted a neutral color. Nancy is always so effortlessly pretty, but tonight she looked extra good.

“Here are your extra pasties, love,” Nancy reports while handing Chrissy her boob tape. “And also some spare bobby pins.”

“Thank you!” Chrissy chimes.

Nancy proceeds to take Chrissy's tips, tucking them neatly into a pouch that has a cherry design on it. As she finishes up with Chrissy, Nancy's eyes travel over to meet Steve’s.

“Hello, Steve,” she attempts.

“Hey, Nance,” Steve says, eyes filled with sorrow.

Nancy’s eyes fall onto you. The air seems awkward now, most likely because Nancy read the room and figured out that you and Steve are probably sleeping together. You can’t hide your thoughts. Your face speaks for you, and judging by the way you struggle to make eye contact with your house mom, she knows now that you know of her and Steve's history.

“Hey you!” Nancy cheers, trying to mask the tension.

“Hey Nance!” you join in. “How are you tonight?”

“Good,” she smiles. “Not working tonight?”

“No, just here to support Chrissy,” you smile back.

“Awesome!”

If Argyle and Henry didn't know you two are hooking up, they sure as hell knew now. They exchange a lightning quick glance at once another and do their best not to do anything that could potentially worsen the situation. Not that it was bad. It was just painfully awkward.

It’s silent for a bit before Nancy clears her throat. “Okay then, I’ll see you guys later.”

All of you bid goodbye to Nancy and try to carry on with the rest of the night. The boys have no issue going back to what they were doing. Meanwhile, you look over at Steve who has gone pale and looks like he is about to throw up.

You rest a hand on top of his. Steve flinches before turning to look at you.

“Are you okay?” you question him.

He sighs and nods. “I will be.”

“Out of sight, out of mind,” you remind him. “Out of sight, out of mind.”

"You're right," Steve frowns. He grabs your hand to kiss it. "Thanks for being so patient with me."

"Of course," you insist.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom to freshen up," he says before ruffling your hair. "I'll be right back."

Your eyes trail after Steve to ensure his safety as he saunters over to the bathroom. When he makes it safe, you turn your attention back to the boys who are, of course, talking about sex.

"Alright you guys," Argyle speaks up. "Let's talk about it. Do you guys have a daddy kink?"

You're intrigued. You gaze travels over to Henry and Eddie who are trying to contain their excitement on the topic. They're trying to act like this is not something they wanted to talk about, but judging by how tightly they're holding onto their drinks and fixing the way they were sitting a little bit too often, they are more than giddy about this topic. Or anything sex-related.

"No not really," Henry shrugs. "But master kink, yeah. I like to be called master and all that stuff."

"Ooh, you're one of those freaky ass fools," Argyle says. "I see, I see. Eddie what about you?"

"Do we really have to talk about this?" Eddie chuckles.

"We sure do, you little freak," Argyle nudges him.

Eddie laughs to himself, staring down at the bottle of beer he's currently drinking. Slowly, he starts to nod, causing your heart to do sommersaults. This night keeps on getting better.

"Yeah..." Eddie answers. "Yeah, I guess I do."

"What's the reason behind your daddy kink?"

"Just think it's hot," Eddie shrugs. "I like taking care of the girl while she unravels right under me. Think it's also a power thing. I like taking over."

"You a choker?"

"Dude, am I?" Eddie exclaims. "Fuuuck yeah! I'm like the fucking waiter at Olive Garden with the grated cheese. Tell me when to stop."

The boys burst out in laughter. Eddie continues with an explanation.

"Cuz I'll keep going."

You are too cross-faded for this right now. Your environment starts to get hot, and you can't tell if it's because of the alcohol or the information Eddie was dumping on everyone causing your cheeks to flush.

"And you know what they say," Henry adds. "Everything is about sex, but sex is about power."

"Power, women, same thing," Eddie says. "Fucking love it."

His eyes fixate on you.

"What about you Shy Girl?" Eddie questions you, his voice deepening. "What are you into?"

Chrissy's screams could not have come at a better time. The whole club nearly pans their attention to her when as shrieks.

“You fucking dickhead!”

Startled, Eddie shoots up. “What? What the fuck happened?”

“I turn around to straddle him and his dick was out.”

You look over to where Chrissy is.

Absolutely fuming, Eddie turns to Henry.

“Creel..."

"Oh I am so glad I am not on the clock," Henry fumes. "I'm gonna fuck him up so bad."

You watch as Henry removes the black blazer he has on along with his watch and shoes before darting towards Chrissy and her perverted patron. You are about to witness what you have been warned about.

"Put that back in your fucking pants dude, what the hell are you doing?" you hear him demand.

"I was just-"

"Quiet. I don't wanna hear it."

"She was talking me up all nice. Not my fault this bitch can't put out."

You turn to Eddie and swear that his eyes have gone black. Yet he refrains from going there himself. He knows well enough that he can't get involved as a manager. There would be a lot at stake if he did.

After arguing back and forth with the customer, Henry digresses when he realizes he's talking to an arrogant brick wall. That's when the unthinkable happens. You watch as the customer practically flies out of his seat, at his mercy now that he is in Henry's unbelievably tight grip. He tries to fight it, swatting at Henry's hand, attempting to kick him in the groin. Henry seems amused. As if that poor customer has a chance.

You almost hear a SNAP.

"Oooh," you hear the crowd hiss painfully.

The customer wails helplessly on the floor as Henry continues to have his way with him. Chrissy, extremely overwhelmed, dashes to the bathroom as she puts her cloak back on, trying to hide the fact that her face is now completely red and full of tears.

Your eyes pan back over to the customer who is now sprawled out onto the floor. Henry abandons him after hissing a cruel, "Get your shit together then get the fuck out" at him and spitting onto him.

He excuses himself to go get Jim to drag him out. You're way too stunned to say anything to him, eyes glued on the customer whose limbs are now bent to a perfect 90 degree angle, neck seemingly displaced, shoulders misaligned with every other part of his body. There's a pool of blood and sweat on the floor. Or maybe that's piss.

"These assholes need to be mindful of how they treat women," Henry snaps when he returns. "Cuz one of these days, they're gonna find the One."

It's difficult for chaos to phase you now, especially since physical confrontations like this used to occur every day at home. But nothing could have prepared you for the aftermath of getting fucked up by Henry.

“Jesus,” you heave. “I didn’t know the human body could bend like that.”

“Naturally it can’t,” Henry corrects you.

“Evident by the bones snapping all willy-nilly,” Argyle adds.

“Yeah, I’ve gathered that, thanks,” you reply.

Eddie sneaks up behind you.

“Told you it was grody,” he says.

Steve emerges from the bathroom, slightly less pale, but still heavily intoxicated. He looks over at the customer, eyes wide.

"Jesus." You can tell he already knows what happened. Steve also seems to know who took care of that person. "I always tell myself I'l get used to it, but damn."

You go over to embrace him. He embraces you back, kissing you across the forehead with his liquor heavy breath. Although you wanted to be with him for the rest of the night, you knew he had to go home. When Steve glances elsewhere, you confiscate his car keys. Eddie guides Steve back to his seat at the VIP table, giving him small words of encouragement as they go.

"That's it, easy there, Big Guy. Almost there. You good?"

You stride over to POTIONS where Dustin just so happens to be now. Judging by how close he and Steve are, you trust him to take him home.

"Dustin," you begin.

"Yes, m'lady," he answers.

"You mind staying with Steve for me?" you request. "I'm gonna be with Chrissy for a bit, but I think he might be ready to go home. I'm not sober so I can't take his car."

"Oh no," Dustin peers over at Steve. "Let me guess, he saw Nancy?"

"Yup," you confirm handing Steve’s keys to Dustin. “They said two whole words to each other."

"That's two more than they usually do," Dustin mutters, accepting the keys from you. “But yeah, I got you. I'll be right there."

You let the men be men, re-enacting Henry’s bone-snapping marathon with the customer. Ditching them, you make your way to the bathroom, where you saw Chrissy run to, to check on her. The sound of sniffling in the stall furthest at the back is the first thing you hear.

“Chrissy?” you call out. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she insists.

A gag followed by some a mass that sounds like vomit shooting into the toilet contradicts that statement completely. Chrissy continues to throw up profusely as you make your way over, crawling under the stall to get to your new friend.

Chrissy is hugging the toilet now, clinging onto it for dear life as if it were going to run away from her.

"Room's spinning," she justifies.

“Yeah, you are most definitely not fine," you sigh. You pat her back to console her. "Are you just overwhelmed by everything? How many milligrams did you take?”

“How many are in three?”

“Jesus Christ!" you shout. "Chrissy!"

“They weren’t doing shit,” Chrissy pouted. “I felt like I needed something strong…” she’s interrupted by her own gagging once more. “Stronger. The edibles just weren't kicking in…”

“So we wait, love!” you exclaim. “We wait for them to kick in. We don’t take it upon ourselves, especially if one gummy is 20 milligrams.”

“Waiting around is for chumps.”

The room falls silent as Chrissy proceeds to self soothe, spitting remnants of her emesis into the toilet and focusing on her breathing. You decide to speak up again.

“How do you feel after what just happened?”

“I don’t,” she answers. “Eventually, you just grow numb to it. It’s part of the profession.”

“Harassment shouldn't be part of the profession."

"But it is."

"It shouldn't! Surely we can get Henry and Jim to do more training so this doesn't happen. We can take self defense classes?"

Chrissy sits up. She turns to face you, running a hand through your hair.

“Oh my baby,” she pouts. “My dear Baby Stripper. You’ve got some shit to experience before you truly know that none of this shit is preventable." She looks off into the distance. "You’re very brave for wanting to do this. I always used to tell girls who want to get into the industry to run as fast as they can."

You're no stranger to harassment and abuse, but you couldn't imagine what strippers go through on a daily basis. Unwanted gestures, having genitals exposed to them that they did not intend on seeing, stalking, retaliation, violence, kidnapping attempts. And these poor men and women who are just trying to make a living have to just accept it.

"There's so much I don't know about the industry," you admit to her. "And to a certain degree I am still naive about it all."

"That's why I'm so protective of you."

"I'll be fine, Chrissy," you reassure her. "I'm more worried about you. You're such a cute little cinnamon roll, I'm the protective one."

"You're so sweet," she says. "You have to promise me that you're gonna say something if anyone tries shit with you."

"Of course," you nod. You start to get scared. Chrissy is saying all this as if it was bound to happen tomorrow.

"And that if anyone at all seems like a threat, you let Jim, Henry, or Eddie know right away," Chrissy continues. "And Jonathan is in on it too. Just ask him for an angel shot and he'll know exactly what to do."

"Mhm," you nod again. "Yeah, you got it."

The extents women have to go through to keep safe...You shudder in fear. It's only temporary, you remind yourself. It's only temporary.

It's not too long after the incident that everyone, the party included, decides to disperse. Argyle volunteers to take Chrissy home and they leave in his van. Henry stays behind and talks with Jim, explaining to him what exactly went down with that one customer. Meanwhile, Steve is sitting at the VIP table, nearly passed out, but Eddie and Dustin work together to get him to his feet.

“Alright,” Dustin announces. “I’m taking Steve home before he starts simping over Nancy again.”

"Shut up, dude," Steve mumble, using nearly all his body weight to lean on Dustin.

You walk over to give Steve one last embrace, leaving a delicate kiss on his cheek as he drunkenly sways back and forth in your grip.

“Goodnight Steve,” you smile.

“Goodnight beautiful,” Steve says. “I’ll text you when I’m home safe.”

“Please,” you encourage him. “And drink water.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles hazily. “You drink water.”

After they leave, you return to the VIP table to order yourself an Uber. You're still intoxicated, but it's simmered to a buzz now. Before you can even navigate to the app, some tight jeans and combat boots make their way towards you, keys to a certain van out back jingling around his fingers.

“Ready, Shy Girl?” Eddie asks you.

“Huh? For what?”

“I’m taking you home.”

_____________

author’s note: thank you so much for all your kind words regarding this fic thus far!! 🥹 and thank you for being so patient as i had a family emergency this week so posting was delayed! didn’t wanna rush posting either because i care about the quality of my work and you guys deserve the best!! i added a bunch of y’all to the tag list and am so excited to have you guys along for the ride. revising/editing ch 4 as we speak :)

———————————-

tag list: @changemunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe , @hideoutside , @motherfckerrr , @jxpsi , @munson-magic , @lindseyj23 , @sidthedollface2

#Spotify #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #hellfire club #steve harrington #Eddie munson #steddie #Steve and Eddie #steddie and reader #Eddie and reader #steve and reader #Chrissy Cunningham

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theblueflower05 · 1 year

Text

You Get Me So High

Drabble in the First Love/Late Spring series

A/N: A little bit of a filler- I just wanted an excuse to fit this little scene into this story. It didn't fit in the last part but I loved it too much to let it go.

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: FLUFF(I know we’re all surprised, but I need a break from the angst) Minors can interact with this one. PG-13 forsure.

Summary: You unearth a gift that you forgot to give your mate. A small peek into You and Neteyam’s slow mornings. Domestic bliss and herbal tea flavored kisses. Neteyam x Reader

If you want to catch up on how we got here, here's the Series Masterlist

Previous<: Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea

The morning eclipse washes over Awa’atlu, drenching it in the striking colors of the peaking sun. The sea glitters, awake before the village. Never ceasing its constant, rhythmic movement even as the people still lay dormant, tucked in tight with their loved ones.

Your status in the clan and the duties that came with it had always forced you into being an early riser, though there is nothing you loved more than digging yourself deep into your bed and slumbering for as long as possible.

You loved being comfy, feeling safe. Got stuck in behind your eyelids, in that hazy peace that only moments before the dawn could bring. Many times Ronal had dragged you from the family Mauri, huffing about the late hour and fretting with your unruly hair.

You don't wake to the hustle and bustle of your childhood home anymore.

It had been that way for the past month or so. Fertility Season had come and gone, and you and Neteyam had spent the time after adjusting to the new normal.

Both of you had grown up in loud, full homes. Surrounded by family, never a moment of quiet to be found. The still silence in your shared Mauri had been a bit unnerving at first. It was just the two of you in these walls after all.

Now though, you craved these moments. They felt private and sacred as you and Neteyam prepared for the day, for the long hours usually chalked full of duties that would keep you busy and separated.

Your mate is a man of routine, you’d picked up on the fact quickly.

He woke as soon as light begin to dance in the many sun catchers and wind chimes that littered the entrance to your Pod. Once the Fkio(birds,gulls) began to squall, he was rising. Gently untangling his limbs from your own and hurrying over to the firepit to bring it back to life.

He’d open all of the blinds to let the air in, the salty ocean breeze filling the space with a freshness that could only come with a new day.

Then comes washing up, changing into a clean tweng and re-adorning all of his jewelry, leaving the intricate battle band and layered choker for last. He liked it when you helped him fasten all of those hard-to-reach ties.

He brews strong tea in the clay pot that his mom had passed down to him. It reminds him of the ones that his grandmother had kept in her hut. Extremely detailed, crafted by an Omaticaya Ceramist. Jade green in color, jungle flowers etched into its sides.

Neteyam lets you get your fill of slumber. Enjoys watching you as you doze, curled up on the bed mat. Your features loose and lost to dreams, occasionally tensing with off scrunches or your nose or twitches of your ears. It’s only when the sun reaches a certain place in the sky that he goes to wake you. Knowing he can wait no longer before you’re late.

You love to sleep, but you absolutely hate being late.

His difficult little munxtate(wife).

He’s so gentle, every time.

Rousing you with soft touches and hums right into your skin. Even before you’re fully coherent you reach for him, greedy fingers. Pursed lips.

The piping hot tea is energizing, you nurse your cup as you go through your own little patterns.

Neteyam knows, now, that you are not particularly chatty until you’ve fully woken up. He doesn't mind the comfortable quiet, busies himself with cleaning his riding gear, readying for a day of patrolling and hunting.

You prepare a quick breakfast before bathing and dressing. Easily clocking the way Neteyam’s amber gaze fixes on your hips when you shimmy into your skirt. Reach behind yourself to twine the strings around your tail. Heat blooms across your cheeks, it’s too early for him to look at you like that. He grins when you roll your eyes and mutter something that sounds a lot like “insatiable skxawng”

The two of you have been working on getting everything organized, and the Mauri is finally coming together. Homey and colorful, filled with little trinkets and pieces of both of your cultures. You were still working on cataloging your wardrobe, untangling the many dangling tops and layered necklaces- it was a pain and you really needed to make time to get it done.

So focused on getting your herbs straightened, prioritizing assisting your heavily pregnant Aunt with healer’s errands that you’d honestly put it off.

It’s your own fault that you need to untangle the top you want to wear from various other pieces of jewelry. You can't be frustrated with anyone but yourself, you fingers work at the knots until you free the article of clothing.

You’re working the crocheted straps over your shoulders when it catches your eye.

Gleams in a beam of sunlight that streams in from the opened windows.

A low gasp escapes you as you reach for it fast.

Between the emotional chaos that had come with the misunderstanding between yourself, Neteyam and Seychelle and then haze of Fertility Season, you’d forgotten.

In the quick paced move into the new Mauri- it had been lost, buried in the messy overfilled baskets of your belongings.

It’s the armband that you’d made for Neteyam.

You enjoy making jewelry, liked the way it kept your hands from being idle. Could string delicate shells into a multitude of necklaces and bracelets and hairpieces that made good gifts for family and friends. There were villagers with more talent than you at the craft, sure, but you thought your creations were pretty enough.

This particular piece had given you a run for your money.

You'd wanted to make something that would remind him of home but the jewelry that the Sully’s wore were extremely intricate, daunting to even look at. The Omiticaya are known for their weaving skills after all.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You’d enlisted the youngest Sully to help you, a bit too shy to share the planned project with anyone else. Tuk loved crafting, frequently giving her creations to any and everyone. She had been thrilled when you approached her, practically shaking with excitement when you promised to take her out to the distant sandbars by Ilu back in exchange for her help.

Omiticayan patterns are hard to master, complex and layered. Leather isn't a medium you usually worked with and your fingers had felt clumsy as you’d attempted the multi strand braiding.

Tuk is patient and friendly. A brilliant teacher even at her young age. She’d spent hours tucked away on that private beach with you. Chattering excitedly as you began to pick it up and the band starts to take shape.

“Who’re you making it for?” She’d questioned, pressing in that innocent, instant way that only a child could “I don't see anyone here wear jewelry like this, it's all so different from back home”

“Just for a friend” You’d paused for a moment, staring down at your slow working fingers. “I think these designs are beautiful, you’ll have to help me make more. I want an anklet just like yours”

She’d beamed, happy to show off the dangling jewels on her feet. She’d made it herself! She could make you one to match, easy!

Only when the horns had sounded, dinner going to start soon, did the two of you gather your belongings and head back in. Tuk had told her parents she would be with you, Jake and Neytiri had deemed you responsible enough to get her back safely. You wouldn't disappoint.

“I hope your friend likes it, Y/N! See ya tomorrow! Don’t be late- you promised we’d race to the sandbar! You can't go back on a promise!” She’d called to you as you’d reached the village, running off in a flurry. Energetic as ever.

“I would never! Get ready to lose, Tuktirey!”

Her twinkling laugh all the response she’d given you.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You’d worked so hard on the band. Meticulously incorporated pieces of shells into the leather. Turquoise, carnelian and topaz toned, to match the beads of Neteyam's choker. The shells were hard to find, but you’d scoured the shore for days, discarding the ones that weren't the right color.

A large blush colored pearl hangs from the center, the patterns of the banding circling it in delicate loops.

You run your fingers over it, recalling how much hard work you’d put into it. How many hours you’d spend having to undo and we braid the patterns-

You plop down next to your mate, near the fire. Legs criss crossed neatly and an eager smile on your face. Clutching something hidden in your fist.

“What?” Neteyam wonders as he eats his breakfast. He’d quickly become fond of the milky sweet rice and fruit that you made in the mornings, he shovels it eagerly into his mouth every time.

“I have a present for you”

That was the last thing he was expecting to hear. His eyebrows raise and his tail flicks, interested, behind him.

“Really?” he speaks with his mouth still full. He’s endearing, even when he’s gross.

“Yes, I am very late. I meant to give it to you long ago. But with the move and everything else it got lost. So lost, you’ve seen the chest where I keep my clothing. It really is a mess” you wave your free hand in the air, gesturing almost wildly as you ramble”- ugh. I forgot, I truly did”

He waits patiently throughout your little special, a small smile on his lips.

“You didn't need to get me anything…” he says, but you can see the concealed intrigue in his eyes. Dare you say it was excitement?

You're a bit nervous as you open your hand, revealing the contents inside, resting against your palm. Holding it out to him in offering. “I wanted to. Here, I really hope you like it”

Neteyam takes the armband between his thin fingers, brings it close to his face to inspect it. The whole time your heart races wildly and you stare at him for any inclination that he might not like it-

“Did you make this?”

“I did” you nod.

“But it’s- it’s Omiticayan design? How did you do this?”

“Oh, I know. It’s why it’s a little bit rough- I’d never made anything like it before. But Tuk was tons of help! She pretty much walked me through it all. We did it months ago but like I told you, I misplaced it”

Neteyam continues to stare at it, his eyes swimming with emotion. He runs his thumb along the weaved leather, over and over again. “The pearl?..”

“The one you found at the beach, in the clam, remember? You gave it to me but I wanted you to be able to keep it. I wasn't lying when I said they’re good luck when they’re that big”

His eyes go from the gift in his hand, meet yours instead. They’re shining. Happy, clearly and a grin breaks out across your face, able to read the wordless que's.

“Get over here” Neteyam reaches for you, hand cupping your face as he clutches you to him, almost right into his empty lap. Claims your willing lips with his own.

The kisses are smothering, consistent little pecking that makes you gasp. He tastes like creamy rice and sweet Yovo- you can feel his canines as he grin. Your hands tangle into his braids, clutching him right back. Your stomach flip flopping with the sheer joy of it all.

“You like?” you’re muffled by his lips, speak the question into his mouth.

“I” kiss “Love” kiss “It”

He doesn't bother to pull away until he's kissed you stupid. Long and thorough. Your head is spinning and theres butterflies erupting in your chest. Your lips feel a bit raw as you pant and lean against him heavily.

“I can't believe you took the time to do this. You are the sweetest, you know. So sweet to me I don't even know what to do with you” He beams and your heart skips one beat. And then two. His smile is a bright thing, his front teeth just a bit longer then the rest-

You hope your children look like him. You wish you could have seen him as a little one.

You caress his face, knuckling lightly at his cheeks. Watching, your hindbrain lighting up, as he slips the band up his arm until it sits snug around his bulging bicep, secured tight.

It looks so good.

You have the urge to make him endless ornaments. Maybe you'll start something for his hair? You could probably find feathers similar to the ones he wore now...

Everytime you think that you couldn't possibly get any happier, you do. You think that you might float away one day- filled to the brim with all of the buoyant love you have for him.

“Thank you, really Y/N. I-” his voice wavers a bit as your nose rubs against his. You’re content like this, in his lap. Pressed in close with your lover. “I don't know how I lived so many years without you. You bring me joy I didn't know existed”

His words echo your frequent thoughts.

The morning is soft and syrupy slow, like all mornings spent with your mate.

Waking up early did have its perks, after all.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

So Neteyam’s sisters X Y/N are some of my favorite dynamics. I can’t wait to write more Tuk & Kiri.

I got some asks after Part Three and I was like ohhhh no, everyone thinks they’re toxic but they’re really not lol they just need to learn how to not be idiots and communicate with each other.

Can we talk about how Y/N's love language is offering her self up to Neteyam on a silver plate? I'm pretty sure that could be translated to Gift Giving.

I’m thinking about doing a little filler/drabble like this every few chapters as a kind of pallet cleanser? There’s just so much about this world and these characters that I want to share with you all.

Also mango sticky rice is my absolute favorite and I’m a green tea girly. Of course I had to incorporate them somewhere😂

What are some of your favorite things that you’d like to see in this universe? Let me know!

#neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam fluff #neteyam x metkayina!reader

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odyssean-flower · 7 months

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Everything Shall Return to the Sea Chapter 1 (Yandere Neuvillette x GN Reader)

Summary: A lonely soul rescues a mermaid on the beach and finds their life changed forever. Warnings: Angst, reader has depression, obsessive yandere thoughts Note: This was written before the 4.0 update

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3

The morning chill was seeping into your skin, despite the towel you had wrapped around you. However, you paid it no mind.

You were sitting on a bench, watching the sunrise at the beach. The sun had yet to emerge from the horizon, and the sky was still a deep blue, dotted with stars here and there.

There was no one around, too early even for the early-risers. And yet you sat there, alone, gazing at the horizon idly.

You were here on vacation, though your somber mood and days of mostly holing up in your cabin make it far less deserving of the cheerful and relaxing feelings that the word brought to mind.

Truth be told, you didn’t even know why you decided to come here. You had been riding the train when you saw an advertisement for a beach vacation. Something about the bright blue ocean and white beaches tugged at something in your heart, something that you thought had long died. So, you ended up renting a beach cabin for a week.

Honestly, now that you were here, you felt like you did something incredibly foolish. A change of scenery wasn’t going to miraculously transform your mindset or your life. All you did was feel lonely in a sunnier location.

Loneliness was your only constant companion throughout your life. Your parents died when you were young, and you had no other relatives. You grew up in an orphanage, always overlooked and ignored by the other kids and adults, and only ever had fleeting, shallow friendships. You didn’t really have any hobbies either. Even now as an adult, you never connected with anyone at your job, with your days mostly consisting of going to work and returning home.

Still, at least this scenery was beautiful. The horizon was lightening before your eyes, turning from blue to amber, heralding the sun’s slow rise. The stars gradually disappeared one by one. The gentle crashing of the waves and the faint cries of seagulls served as pleasant background noise as you gazed ahead. The damp sea breeze grazed against your cheek and ruffled your hair.

Right now, you could almost understand why people found the beach so relaxing.

If only… you thought. If only I can just exist in this moment forever…

But of course, the world wasn’t so kind. The sky gradually lightened, the sun making its slow ascent above the waters. There were more people now, some of them shooting you weird looks for being here so early. You decided that it was time to head back.

As you walked along the shore, you suddenly spot something lying in the sand up ahead. You didn’t know what it was at first. It was long, its upper half white and its lower half blue and glittering. It also seemed to be moving faintly, though that might just be the waves. A beach toy? You thought.

You steadily approached it, but the closer you got, the more you wondered if you were hallucinating.

The “beach toy” was larger than you thought. It would probably tower over you if it were standing up. Its upper half resembled the torso of the most handsome man you had ever seen. His long white hair, mingled with what looked like blue streaks of hair, was fanned out beneath him. His eyes were closed, his eyelashes long enough to brush against the tops of his cheekbones, and his chiseled features and torso reminded you of a classical statue. His alabaster skin shone in the sunlight. As your gaze traveled down his body, his human-looking waistline melded into iridescent blue fish scales. The scales tapered to a point before flaring out into translucent fins.

It was a mermaid’s tail.

You were looking at a mermaid.

No, you idiot, you laughed at yourself. This is probably some kind of super-realistic toy or an elaborate art installation.

It really was a beautiful piece of work, though. It looked so real, like it could open its eyes at any moment. You found yourself kneeling down and reaching out to touch the tail. It was smooth beneath your fingertips. Smooth, warm, and pulsing.

Your hand jerked back and you whipped your head towards the mermaid’s face. Its eyes were open now, and looking at you. Though his gaze was weak, you could sense the scorn and wariness directed at you.

The mermaid’s mouth opened, but only a faint gasp came out. You stumble back when you saw what you took for lines on his neck flutter. They were gills.

Your thoughts were racing through your mind. No way, no way, this has to be some kind of prank. There’s probably a hidden camera somewhere…

You look around. There was no one around as far as you could see, no one running up to you and telling you that this was a joke. It was almost too quiet.

“Are…are you really a mermaid?” you tentatively ask. The words sounded ridiculous, but there was no other conclusion. You briefly wonder if this person was just wearing a fake mermaid tail, but his skin blended into scales much too smoothly for that, and nothing could explain the gills.

The mermaid regarded you for a few brief moments. You could sense his annoyance, probably at how long it took for you to come to the realization. His head moved up and down imperceptibly. A nod.

“Okay…” Holy crap, I can’t believe this is actually happening, you thought in a mixture of fear and surprisingly, joy. I’m meeting a real mermaid! “H-How did you get here, sir?”

The mermaid only stared at you. He didn’t even open his mouth this time. Maybe he can’t talk on land? It was then that you notice the shallow rise and fall of his chest. The mermaid was weak. It must have been washed up onto the beach during the night and was stuck here, unable to push itself back into the sea.

Now you knew what you had to do. Still not quite believing the situation, you told the mermaid, “Okay, I get it. You want to go back to the sea, right? I’ll help you.”

The mermaid’s eyes widened slightly like he couldn’t believe what you were saying. Did he think I was going to take him away and sell him or something, you wonder idly.

Although, dragging him back into the water looked to be a formidable task of its own. For one thing, he was massive, so it would take a considerable amount of your meager strength to move him. There was still no one around. It was all up to you.

A part of you thought, I could just leave and call for help. The last thing my life needs is to get involved with a magical creature, and I’m nowhere near capable enough to help him. Not getting involved with others and keeping to yourself was how you survived. But it was overpowered by the weak but desperate gaze aimed at you. You’re the only one who can help me, the mermaid seemed to be saying.

He needed you.

That thought spurred you on, and you got to work. You gently but firmly grasped the mermaid’s tail–which made him twitch a little–with both hands and started to drag the mermaid back into the sea. He was heavier than you expected, and you almost fell on your butt a few times, but you made gradual progress. You kept apologizing to him as you dragged him through the sand. It felt criminal to treat such a beautiful otherworldly creature like this.

The mermaid’s eyes were fixed on you as he watched you struggling and wheezing. You really wished he would close his eyes again. His stare was unnerving. You’ve never been looked at like this by anyone, much less a beautiful mermaid, and it was just your luck that it had to happen when you were sweating and gasping for breath.

Finally, when the sea was up to your knees and the tail was fully submerged in the water, the mermaid’s strength seemed to return. Now supported by the buoyancy of the water, the mermaid turned around and dove beneath the water. You watched in awe as his tail moved in a synchronized rhythm, his long white hair streaming behind him.

The mermaid’s head surfaced a short distance from you. He didn’t say anything. You couldn’t read any emotion in his eyes. He was simply looking at you like he was waiting for something.

Suddenly, a strange urge to ask him to take you with him rose up within your mind. You had no idea where it came from. It was a preposterous idea, of course.

Instead, you simply gave him a small wave. The mermaid didn’t return it, only staring at you for a few moments longer before slipping back beneath the waves.

You stared at the spot where he once was until the ripples disappeared.

You never saw the mermaid again for the rest of your vacation, even as you went out to the beach every morning to stare out at the waters, trying to catch a glimpse of white hair or blue scales.

You didn’t know what you were hoping for. You had no idea what you were going to do if you saw him again. Try to talk to him? Take a picture?

Maybe you just wanted to feel like you were chosen. You were the one who found him, and you were the one who saved him.

Maybe, you just wanted to feel that connection again.

The mermaid occupied your mind even long after you returned from vacation. Who was he? What was his name? Where in the sea did he live? Were there others like him? Were there others who also saw him?

These questions soon turned into a hidden passion. You began to spend your leisure time researching mermaid legends, collecting mermaid pictures, and even attempting to sketch that beautiful mermaid you saw. Your ears perked up at any mention of mermaids. It was a good thing that you lived alone and kept to yourself, or other people would have thought you’d gone mad.

You scoured the internet for any information on mermaid sightings. Most were completely bogus, but after some time you managed to find a forum about mermaid sightings in the area you visited in some hidden nook of the web. It was a small forum where other mermaid enthusiasts eagerly shared theories, stories, and blurry photos of what could either be mermaids or giant fish.

At first, you simply lurked, but the easygoing and welcoming nature of the forum users eventually convinced you to share your own story. None of the other users had seen that white-haired mermaid before, but the response was more passionate than you expected, as you answered the bombardment of questions. Though some were disappointed that you didn’t take any pictures, everyone was more excited about the fact that there was someone else who shared their experience. No one doubted your story at all.

The forum soon became a place you frequented as soon as you got home from work. The other posters became familiar friends to you. Their posting habits, their active hours, and even the details of their life they shared became ingrained in your memory. And, as you were surprised to discover, the same went for the others.

Your fixation on mermaids gradually faded. The forum became a place to vent, ask for advice, and simply to talk to someone. You started to share more and more about yourself, talking about things you never told anyone and, through the responses you received, you discovered things about yourself that you never existed.

You were still mostly invisible at work, but now it no longer felt like you were in free fall. It felt like there was a safety net beneath you now.

When the other users threw you a virtual birthday party, you sobbed.

So this…is what it feels like to be a part of a community, you thought as you watched the familiar, dear faces sing “Happy Birthday” to you.

The mermaid books on the shelf behind you were dusty from being untouched for months.

In the depths of the sea, far beyond where the sun’s rays could reach, a lone mermaid was gazing up at the surface.

His long white hair billowed around him as he stared upwards unblinkingly. The blue horns–signifiers of his high status–jutting out of his hair gave off an eerie glow. His hand was absentmindedly touching the end of his tail–the same spot that you grabbed.

Even now, he still couldn’t get your eyes, so filled with loneliness, out of his mind. The warmth of your touch still lingered on his scales.

He never liked humans. He disliked their smiling faces as they tore through his people’s habitat and disturbed the peaceful creatures living in the depths. However, he never did anything to them, because that would put his people in danger.

He disliked humans…but then there was you.

The hesitant touch of your hand on his scales that turned into a firm grip, the defeated eyes that came alive as you tried your best to rescue him, the soft apologies that spilled out of your mouth…

All of that stirred something in the mermaid’s heart. Something he didn’t know existed.

Unbeknownst to you, he had come up close to the surface every day during your vacation as well. You never saw him, because he stayed right below the surface, observing you. You looked so frail as you stood at the spot where you found him, your toes barely touching the water. Sometimes you would take a step forward like you were about to go into the sea, but you would always stop and walk back. That was a relief for him. He didn’t know what he would do if you really did it. Then he would wonder why he was even worried about a human at all.

He didn’t really have any intention of revealing himself, but seeing your disappointed look as you walked away after another day of not seeing him almost made him want to emerge from the water. Those sad eyes…what had you endured to make them like that? And why did he want to know?

“Lord Neuvillette!” One of the other mermaids called to him. Neuvillette reluctantly turned around after a few seconds.

Neuvillette didn’t understand these feelings that tugged at his heart, but he did know this: he wanted to see you again. No matter what.

#genshin impact x reader #yandere neuvillette #yandere neuvillette x reader #yandere genshin impact #my works

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clotpolesonly · 3 months

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In The Habit Of Having You With Me

Despite being a mythological creature largely associated with the nighttime, Derek had always been an early riser. The world was a noisy, noisy place, and early morning was the quietest it ever seemed to get. Especially when he was young, his large house crammed with an even larger family, the hour before dawn was the only option if he wanted to experience anything other than chaos, so he made it a habit to be the first one up. Call it the self-defense mechanism of the introverted middle child.

There was just something deeply peaceful about the stillness of it, the hush of a day before it’s properly begun, the slowness that precedes the scramble of business as usual.

Not to mention, he loved a good sunrise. The only thing better than standing on the porch in brisk fall weather to watch the sun rise over the treeline with a cup of good coffee in hand would be doing so with the love of his life at his side.

Unfortunately, it took a fucking forklift to get Stiles out of bed in the morning.

Most days, Derek would roll over somewhere around 6:20am with a yawn and a good, deep stretch. He would turn to gaze lovingly at his boyfriend and find Stiles face down in a pillow, completely unresponsive, snoring fit to wake the devil. He would nudge and poke and whisper and drop kisses on whatever part of Stiles he could reach. Stiles would mumble back something along the lines of “carrier twelve mirror dog” or “where’d you put the Gilligan” and fling an arm out in Derek’s direction like he was casting a fishing line. Sometimes this hit him in the face, sometimes it missed completely, and sometimes it successfully snagged Derek around the waist.

Derek liked that Stiles always wanted him close, so strongly that even his subconscious was always reaching out for him. It was endearing. Made Derek feel very loved.

However, it also prevented him from getting out of the bed. This made Derek feel very annoyed, especially when Stiles was of the opinion that “morning” didn’t begin until somewhere around 10am.

One would think that, as a werewolf, Derek would be able to extricate himself from his human boyfriend’s embrace without too much trouble, but, somehow, one would be wrong. Stiles had to have some kind of fucking were-octopus genetics in his lineage somewhere because some mornings, Derek came very close to having to chew his own arm off if he didn’t want to lie there, wide awake and affectionately trapped, for four hours. There were a lot of sacrifices that he was willing to make for Stiles, but four conscious, bed-ridden hours without coffee was not one of them.

And so Derek spent most mornings alone, on the porch of his newly rebuilt home, with his coffee and his sunrise and his silence.

It wasn't as nice as it used to be.

This particular one really was lovely, though, even if he'd had to pry himself regretfully out of Stiles’ grip to earn the privilege of seeing it. It painted the Preserve with pink and gold, a stunningly beautiful backdrop to match the charming soundtrack of the early birds cheeping to each other. There were no cars yet on the nearby road. Only the sounds of nature and—

“Cannot believe you do this every day.”

Before Derek could turn around, familiar arms wound their way around his waist. An equally familiar forehead thunked against the nape of his neck. Derek took one hand off the warmth of his coffee cup to cover Stiles’ where they clasped each other over his stomach.

“You're up,” he said. “You're never up.”

Stiles made a plaintive sound, cold nose nuzzling. “Missed you.”

Derek smiled. “Do you want some of my coffee?”

“Fuck no, I'm going back to sleep in, like, point-two minutes and you can't stop me.”

Derek's smile grew. “I wouldn't try.”

He tapped at Stiles’ hands until he loosened his hold, then turned himself around without leaving the embrace. Stiles’ face was grumpy and bleary, pillow creases still marring his cheeks, and he only deigned to crack open one of his eyes. He was every bit as beautiful as the sunrise.

Derek kissed him. Stiles’ grumpy expression did not change, but he made another of those plaintive little noises when Derek pulled back. His fingers flexed against Derek's lower back, holding him tighter.

Derek said, “Thank you.”

“You better appreciate how much I love you, dude. I would not do this for literally anybody else.”

“I know.”

Derek turned back around and let Stiles adhere himself to his back. Within seconds, Stiles was snoring against his shoulder. Derek didn't mind. In a few minutes, he would rouse Stiles again and lead him back to bed. Derek might even join him there, read a book or something while Stiles used him as a teddy bear for another hour or two.

For the moment, though, he was excruciatingly content. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the coffee was perfectly brewed, and the love of his life was—grudgingly—at his side. He'd been right. There really was nothing better.

#Sterek #Derek Hale #Stiles Stilinski #Teen Wolf #fanfiction #fics by me

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ichxraaa · 1 year

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⤷ just some domestic morning fluff with hayakawa aki

aki sees your toes peeking underneath the fluffy covers and properly tucks you in before getting up. he is an early riser, so he begins his morning routine earlier than you, he’s always careful to not make too much noise, always wanting to let you have you as much rest as you can get before he finally wakes you up with a kiss placed on your temple before telling you it’s time to wake up.

you’re still drowsy and your eyes are barely open when you take your place on the table across from him and facing the window. the “morning” that softly comes from your lips always puts a smile on his face as he takes a sip from his coffee.

he knows you’ll need a couple more minutes before you are really awake, your eyes getting lost on the sun rising above the city as you look past aki’s still undone hair.

your slow blinking accompanies him as he takes a bite of his toast. your eyes have finally fully awaken as they set for the first time on his own and then you smile, softly, warmly and you stretch your arm across the table so your fingertips reach his own.

he indulges you, he knows you don’t care that the jam sticking to his fingertips will inevitably stick to your own fingers. once you’re fully awake all you care about is saying hi, letting him know how happy you are to wake up next to him, how happy you are to see him.

and then you stand up, the sound of the your chair sliding against the floor as you move breaking the early morning quietness but he doesn’t care cause you’ve reached his side.

and you’re wrapping your arms around him and he leans into your touch, head resting against your chest as you kiss the top of his head with an unnecessarily loud smooch that he’s grown to love.

you’re warm and your essence penetrates his senses with gentle intoxication as you mutter your usual greeting, “good morning, aki”.

a second later you’re back on your chair, licking the strawberry jam from your lips as you take a bite of your own toast. aki smiles again, no matter how tired you are you’ve never begun a day without saying good morning first, and honestly, his day is never complete until you’ve kissed him hello.

#hayakawa aki #chainsaw man x reader #hayakawa aki x reader #chainsaw man scenarios #chainsaw man headcanons #chainsaw man imagines #.dancing in the moonlight

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pearbunny · 4 months

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the bucket list ✘ [eleven]

series masterlist | prev | next [ ❀ spotify playlist ]

summary: Fly to Korea. Check. Buy a bouquet of flowers for a stranger. Check. Have said stranger come along with you to accomplish your bucket list? Well that wasn’t on the list, but falling in love was.

pairing: han jisung x afab!reader

genre: 18+ [MDNI] strangers to lovers, non idol au, crack, mostly fluff, later chapters to include: angst, comfort, smut.

general warnings: tourist!mc, adult themes including but not limited to: suggestive content, nudity, cursing, mentions of death in later chapters.

word count: 3.4k

chapter content: cute little moments between mc & Jisung, apple picking, mentions of food, flirting, a phone call with Changbin and Lee Know.

author’s note: Just a small little set up for the next chapter to be honest. To make up for that, 11.5 will be out next week. :)

You wake up the next morning the muffled sounds of birds chirping. You inhale deeply and the scent of Jisung’s body wash fills your senses. Keeping your eyes closed, you snuggle yourself deeper into the sheets, only to find that you were still pressed up against Jisung’s side, his hand at the small of your back. You’re a little in shock, Jisung was usually an early riser, always up and out of bed by the time you would wake up. Your eyes open to find him next to you, eyes closed with long lashes brushing his cheeks, mouth slightly agape, while his chest softly rises and falls with his slow and deep breathing.

You contemplate getting up to get ready for the day, letting him sleep in, but instead you settle on taking advantage of being able to sleep in with Jisung.

It feels like you had just closed your eyes when you wake up this time. Jisung is still asleep and for a moment you’re worried. Leaning on your elbows, you place a hand on his forehead to check his temperature. A small smile plays on your lips when you find that he was fine. On the outside of the bed, you reach over to grab your phone, but fail to do so when Jisung stirs from his sleep, his hand grabbing at your wrist to pull you back. The force brings you on top of him and he gives a small ‘Oof’ on impact. The corner of his lips turn up.

“Good morning.” Jisung’s voice is deep and coarse and it catches you off guard, causing you to involuntarily bite down on your plump bottom lip. You clear your throat and shake your head, ridding yourself of those thoughts.

“Morning, Ji. It’s about time we get up.” You peel yourself away from him, bringing your toes to touch the heated wood-vinyl floors before sliding them into your warm fuzzy slippers.

Behind you, Jisung groans playfully before sitting up and stretching his arms above his head.

After you freshen up in the bathroom, you head to the small kitchenette while Jisung freshens up himself. You fill up the electric kettle with tap water in the small sink before bringing it to a boil. While you wait for Jisung to come back out, you look in the small cupboards for any kind of instant coffee pack. Just as the electric kettle turns off, Jisung comes up behind you, hands on the counter, trapping you in place. You twist in his arms to face him, wrapping your arms around the small of his waist.

“You actually slept in today.”

Jisung nods and easily lifts you onto the counter. You laugh in the process and lean forward against him, doing your best to not hit your head on the cupboards behind you. “You’re usually awake before I am; everything okay? How are you feeling?”

Jisung slots himself between your legs, leaning forward against you to bury his face in the crook of your neck. He breathes in deeply, and exhales.”I’m fine. I just slept well.” He can’t recall the last time he slept in like that, his mind typically running 100 miles an hour with all the things he had to do within the day, all the ideas he had for music, the stock inventory at work; it was nice that he was able to slow down for once and he had a sneaking suspicion all of that had to do with you.

You place your forearms on his shoulders, hands playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. His fingers creep under your oversized sleeping shirt, fingertips grazing at the smooth skin of your sides. “Thank you for last night.”

“Anytime.”

Naturally, you find the both of you taking your cups of coffee and drinking them outside in front of the camper on the small campfire site the hosts provided.

“So,” Jisung starts off, “What does a road trip for you look like usually?”

“Hmmm,” You bring the mug of hot coffee up to your face, letting the steam warm you up. “Well, other than the actual destination I always picture road trips to include a bunch of snacks, stopping at a rest stop – usually a McDonald’s – to grab a bite to eat at and stretch our legs, and when I was younger my mom always stopped at a couple of local markets.”

Jisung nods in understanding, “I get that. I bet you were a handful as a kid on the road for hours.”

You laugh and shrug your shoulders, “Probably. My dad was probably tired of listening to the same 12 songs that I demanded we play during the entirety of the trip.” Jisung chuckles at that. “He probably really enjoyed whenever I dozed off so he could have some peace and quiet.”

“Time to go on the road again!”

You help Jisung this time with bringing the bags into the trunk of his car. Once all inside, he shuts the trunk and stretches his arms way above his head, letting out a very loud and over-exaggerated groan.

You laugh and jokingly knead the back of his shoulders with your thumbs. “Why are you such an old man?”

Jisung guides you to the passenger seat and opens the door for you, laughing at himself. “I got a good night’s rest.I feel like I was reborn again!”

You slip into your seat, buckling your seatbelt automatically as a habit. Jisung closes the door for you once you're situated then runs over to the driver's side. He checks his mirrors, places his seatbelt on, and drives off from the lot.

“If you’re reborn again, doesn’t that mean you’d be like a baby? Shouldn’t you not feel any back pain?”

Jisung shrugs, keeping his eyes on the path in front of him as he navigates himself towards the main road. “Benjamin Button? I can’t help how my body feels.”

“How far are we from Seoul?”

Jisung takes his phone from his lap, connected to the car. He hands it to you, dropping it into the palm of your hands. “We should be about two and a half hours out and now that you’ll be awake, you can be a proper co-pilot.”

You roll your eyes and look through his phone, trying to find his music app. “Hey, I wasn’t feeling well that day.”

Jisung lifts a brow and looks at you through the corner of his eyes quickly. “Yeah? Not because you were completely avoiding me, right?”

“Avoiding you? Now why on earth would I do that?” You tease right back at him. Finally, you land on his spotify app. There was no rhyme or reason to his apps, no kind of organization so finding it was quite the feat. “Any playlist you want to listen to?”

Jisung bites on his lower lip, recalling all the playlists he’s made. “Work on a Sunday Afternoon.”

You go into his library, scrolling through what seems like an endless amount of saved lists. Once you locate the right one, you press play. “You really like music, huh?”

Jisung nods, checking over his shoulder before merging into the left lane. “Yea. I mean, kind of have to have some kind of a liking to it if I want to release my own music one day.”

You look through the playlist. It’s a surprising amount of soft-jazz and indie music sprinkled in together. You close your eyes to imagine how Loud Mouths would be on a Sunday afternoon: groups of friends, families, couples waiting for a table at the eclectic restaurant-bar, the sun coming through the large black paned windows, Changbin talking to newcomers and regulars alike, Lee Know in the kitchen making sure that every plate that went out wasn’t only delicious, but beautiful to look at, and Jisung behind the bar, charmingly guessing people’s favorite drinks just based on the short amount of time that he’s met them.

You smile when you recognize a couple of English songs peppered in. “Hey, what kind of music do you like to make?”

He purses his lips, brows furrowing in thought. “I like rock ballads a lot, but I’m not as confident in my singing as I am in my rapping.”

“You rap?!” Your eyes go wide in surprise. “And you sing?!”

Jisung laughs nervously. “I like to. I don’t know if what I do would be considered good, though.”

“Nonsense,” You wiggle into your seat, getting more comfortable. “When can I listen to your music?”

“Eventually.”

About an hour out, you notice that the car is approaching a small sign on the side of the road. You sit up in your plush seat, leaning forward and squinting your eyes to read the sign. “Jisung, it looks like there’s some apple picking nearby!”

Jisung glances quickly to the right side of the road, barely missing the sign. “Next 2 exits. Do you want to do it?”

Without hesitation, you exclaim, “Yes!” as you press your palms against the window, eyes lighting up at the sight.

Jisung chuckles softly and signals for the next exit.

“Sorry,” You mumble in your seat, a little embarrassed at your excitement. “I hope this doesn’t ruin our plans.” During your drive, you and Jisung had decided on picking some food up on the way, having dinner together while possibly watching some show on netflix, and painting his nails.

Jisung takes his free right hand and reaches over to your leg to squeeze the bottom of your thigh gently. “We can still have a night in. Remember, Changbin gave me the rest of the week off.”

You eye his hand on your thigh and smile, a blush painting the tops of your cheeks as you sit giddy.

You hop out of the car once Jisung parks, not bothering to wait for him to open your door. This earns you a Jisung pout when he closes your door for you. He extends a hand out and you take it easily, slipping your fingers between his.

“Have you ever gone apple picking before?” Jisung leads you to a small stall being tended to by an elderly woman, short gray hair pulled under a cap, one that matched the apron she wore over her light-weigth patterned sweater.

“I have! I used to go with my mom and dad when I was younger. When I grew up, I started going with my friends back home.” Jisung hands you a woven basket while he converses with the woman. You nudge his side a little when they start laughing when a really bad joke Jisung slipped in. Jisung bows his head and you mimic him, bidding farewell.

“You really are a charmer, you know that?”

Jisung scratches at the top of his nose. “I just like talking to people. People are interesting.”

You eye him with a small small smile before heading over to the rows and rows of apple trees. “People are interesting.”

Jisung laughs as he follows you. “I’m being for real! Bartending at Loud Mouths has been a very fulfilling job for me.”

You examine an apple, delicately turning it on its side and seeing bruising. You decide to skip that one. “Is it because of all the random people you get to chat up?”

Jisung nods and starts to follow your example. “Exactly. Especially being located in Seoul, I’ve gotten to come across people from all over the world. They tell me all sorts of things after a drink or two. People who are visiting for business, visiting a family member, a lot of the times I meet people who are visiting Korea for the first time. I hear about their love life, their dogs, and sometimes I get juicy info about a person’s inlaws.”

You find an apple that you like enough and pick it from its stem, placing it carefully into the basket around your arm. “Are you the go-to drama guy at the bar?”

Jisung laughs and turns over an apple, “I know all the tea.”

The laugh that comes from your mouth is pure music to Jisung’s ears.

“Actually,” Jisung places the apple in the basket, then takes it from your arm. “I have no idea what I’m looking for, I’ll just hold them.”

“Thanks.” You find a big and bright red apple and pick it off the stem, turning around to see that Jisung was right behind you with the basket held up. You drop it into the basket and continue down the orchard.

“I use a lot of what they say for inspiration.”

“For your songs?” You look up and circle around a specific apple then reach up for it. You can’t quite grasp it, even on your tippy-toes, but Jisung easily picks it off of the tree and hands it to you to make sure it’s good enough to add to your pile.

“Yeah, I feel like I don’t have a lot of life experience, so I listen and I think about how I would feel or what I would do in those situations.” Jisung shrugs and continues to follow you around, the basket getting heavy in his hands.

“You really know how to keep me curious about your songs, Jisung.” Your voice has a slightly jestering tone to it.

Jisung laughs nervously, “How about I show you one when we get back to Seoul?”

“Deal.” You place one final apple in the basket and with a smile on your face, you take a hold of his free hand and tug him back towards the stall to pay for them.

Jisung places the bushel of apples on the table for the elderly woman to bag as you pay for it. Once all done, you both bow again to the woman who smiles widely, eyes crinkling at the corners as she waves you both goodbye.

Jisung laughs in the driver’s seat as you place the heavy bag of apples in the back of the car, buckling it in as if it were a real person. “I’m going to be eating apples for a week after you’re gone with all of those”

“I’m going to make an apple pie, silly.” You slip into your seat and buckle up for the last leg of your trip. You say it so matter-of-factly that all Jisung can do is give you a blank stare before laughing it off.

By the time you arrive back at the apartment with Jisung, the both of you were decently tired from getting stuck in traffic. Desperate for food, you stopped by the drive-thru at some fast food chain and grabbed a couple of burgers to bring home.

As Jisung brings in the luggages, you hold the food and your bag of apples and place them on the kitchen counter. Jisung drives right into the bag, taking out his burger, unwrapping it and stuffing his face. The sides of his cheeks puff up with the amount of food he’s stored in them and you can’t help but to laugh.

He looks at you, brow raised as if his current state was a normal situation. With a dramatic swallow of his food, he points at his lips. “Something on my face?”

“No, you’re just… an interesting individual, that’s all, Jisung.”

That answer seems to please him as a gummy smile greets you. He shyly clears this throat, changing the conversation. “So, what’s next on the list?”

“Oh!” You had almost forgotten all about it. “Well, now that we’re back, we can cross off Take a Road Trip.” You search in your bag by the door for the notebook with one hand as you take a large bite of your burger in the other. You bring the book back to the counter with Jisung, marking the Road Trip item off as done.

Jisung hovers next to you, looking over your shoulder at the remaining items. There were many crossed off, but even more left undone. He hums, eyes scanning the list multiple times. Abruptly, he closes the book which brings your attention on him.

“What’s something that you want to do? Something off your own bucket list?”

You lean against the counter in contemplation and take a sip of your soda. “Skydive.” You look at him with a slightly teasing look in your eyes, recalling how afraid of heights he was while on the Ferris Wheel earlier in the week.

Jisung looks at you, devoid of any emotion, lips in a tight straight line. He blinks. One long hard blink as he calms himself after picturing himself high up in the sky on a plane, looking down at the world before he’s about to jump. He places a hand on the counter when he feels his knees wobble. “How about something simple? Something you’ve always been able to do but you’ve often overlooked and taken for granted.”

“Like an everyday thing?”

Jisung nods. “Exactly like that.”

“Well,” You think about it for a moment. “I think I’ve already done that. When I sang at Loudmouths. But,” You pause and Jisung leans forward towards you, waiting for your answer. “I have always wanted to host a little dinner party for friends. Some cute fancy drinks, candlights, soft music playing in the back.”

Jisung reaches into his pocket, taking out his phone. As his thumbs unlock it and search through his contacts, he gives you a smirk. “Alright then, lets do it.”

“Wha–?”

He’s facetime someone judging by the ring back tone.

“Who are you calling?”

“Yeoboseyo?” A deep voice answers the phone. Jisung gives the person on the other end a smile. “Eh? Hannie, where are you? Are you back now? Is Y/N still there?”

Jisung nods and you quickly shove your head into the frame of the call. “I’m here!”

Changbin’s face on the screen lights up in a huge smile once he sees you. He calls for someone out of the frame. “Lee Know!”

You hear a distant huff followed by a “Hmm?” Lee Know appears on camera. “Ah. How was your trip?”

“Good!” You wave at both of the men.

“Y/N wants to have dinner with everyone at my place.”

“Sure, when do you think? Changbin taps a couple of times on his phone, pulling up his calendar. “Oh, I can close the place down tomorrow night.”

Quickly, you take the phone from Jisung so that you’re the only one in frame. “What? No! I can't ask that of you.”

Behind you, Jisung mumbles quietly, “He’s the boss, he can do what he wants.”

Changbin laughs and shakes his head. “You’re not asking me, I’m telling you I’m closing the place down tomorrow night.

You give him a soft smile, thankful. “Alright then. Lee Know, do you think you could help me make dinner? I only ever make dinner for myself, usually.”

Lee Know takes his index finger and fixes his bangs in the reflection of the facetime. “Sure. I’ll get there early.”

“Do you need us to bring anything?” Changbin asks.

“Seungmin. He was nice enough to guilt Jisung into offering me a place to stay for the past two weeks.” You smile a bit, recalling that day. It seems so long ago. “Oh, and I hope you like apple pie!”

“Y/N,” Lee Know calls to you. Changbin shifts his phone over to show Lee Know only. He’s on his phone, scrolling with his thumb. “I’m following you on Instagram. Accept. I’ll message you there about the menu. I don’t know much about baking though, so you’ll be on your own for that one.”

You laugh a bit at how blunt Lee Know was. “Okay. Here’s Jisung.” You hand the phone to Jisung and find your own, quickly accepting Lee Know’s friend request.

“So we’ll see you tomorrow?” Jisung waves goodbye through the phone to his friends.

“We’ll be there!” With that, Changbin hangs up on the call.

“Do you think you could make some drinks tomorrow?” You look up from your phone at Jisung.

“Of course… Although, the last time I made you a drink we ended up in bed together.” He looks at you with a small smirk on his lips.

You redden in the face and bite on your lower lip. You take a deep breath in and mimic his smirk, raising a brow at him. “Would that be so bad if that happened again?”

ending author’s notes: I know I said this last chapter, but the end is coming near so here's a nice cute fluffy chapter before we say goodbye soon. As a reminder, next week I'll be posting eleven.5!

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