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#the notes being purple is PERFECT
covertblizzard · 16 days
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"🎵 I was right 🎵 I was right 🎶" she's so annoying I love her
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CAUSE I L-L-L-LOVE YOU! (AT LEAST I THINK I DO…)
✏️ ✏️ ✏️
💜 💜 💜
📓 📓 📓
22. A series you have a love/hate relationship with: Phoenix Drop High... honestly all of mystreet but pdh the most so i think. the only thing i like about normal mystreet is. llp and zana. whereas i think pdh had a lot of potential. to me the main story is kinda boring and the side chcs are much more fun
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13lov · 7 months
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tethered. | jjk
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Love notes were slipped into your locker on a daily basis. Variations of messy, boyish handwriting on yellow sticky notes stacked upon themselves by the end of each school day. Every Friday night you were invited out with the promise of "You'll have fun, just give it a chance."
You could have any guy you wanted, no doubt about it. Yet somehow, the only one you do want is the tattooed, gothic one that lives a few doors down from your best friend.
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✰ pairing. — emo!jk x reader
✰ genre. — early 2000s au, best friend's older brother, childhood friends to lovers, smut, light angst.
✰ word count. — 7k+
✰ warnings. — swearing, family issues, partying, mentions of drinking/drugs, friendship betrayel (?), smut [virginity loss, teasing, fingering, soft dom!jk, "i've waited so long for this" type shit], reader and jk are both 18+, minors dni.
✰ a/n. really love this pairings and would love to have drabbles with them in the future, so pls lmk if u guys would be interested in that! thanks for all the love on the teaser, hope u enjoy! <3
✰ taglist. @ahgasegotarmy116 @hellbornsworld @kissyfacekoo @littlestarstinyseven @skzthinker
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Two monumental events had been etched into your brain for eternity, the first being sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet up with your friends at the community pool. The second is fifteen minutes upon arriving at the pool, seeing your best friend's older brother emerge from the chlorine-scented water as if he were Poseidon and realizing you were utterly infatuated by him. 
Jeon Somi isn't blind to this, immediately pulling you away from the crowd to question the longing gaze on your face. "Out of every fucking guy here with us, you're making eyes at my brother? You do know that Jungkook is completely gross, right?" She was so furious, you're surprised no steam was blowing from her ears.
Deny it all you want (and you certainly did within that fifteen-minute interrogation); Jungkook very clearly had a hold on you that lasted many years following that fateful night. He wasn't even your usual type; he wouldn't be caught dead around the guys you're typically drawn to. He had a rebellious side; maybe that's why getting him out of your head was nearly impossible. 
Of course, the eternal guilt of falling for your best friend's older, dumbass brother is also difficult to get out of your head.
It can't be helped, really. Anytime you'd visit their home, your eyes would automatically wander through the crack of his doorway as you'd pass by. Whether he was messily cutting his dark hair while blasting Pierce the Veil from his speakers or giving himself a new Stick-and-Poke tattoo as he waited for a CD to finish burning, you long to break away from Somi for a moment to speak to him. Ask him about his day or if his band had any upcoming gigs. You'd even talk to him about paint drying if it meant you'd get to be in the same space as him. 
So it's safe to say you were completely heartbroken when he left for college. Somi, however, is over the moon. Or so you think.
"… He's your brother, though. You don't think you're gonna miss him at all?" You ask, watching Somi delicately paint your fingernails a pretty shade of purple.
She shrugs, "I mean… it's definitely gonna be weird not seeing him around the house every day, but he'll still visit sometimes. Maybe."
Deep down, Somi knows Jungkook won't visit much. He'd been craving freedom and independence from their parents for ages, and moving away for college gave him the perfect opportunity to live as he pleased. They weren't fond of the clothes he wore or the friends he had, and absolutely couldn't bear the music his band makes. They criticized every little thing about him, and he'd finally be getting a break from them.
As you're about to ask Somi if she's okay, she stands from her bed, screwing the nail polish closed. "I'll be back. I have to let Bam out." Her voice is shaky, and she doesn't look at you as she exits the room.
You take the opportunity to make your way down the hall and to Jungkook's door, which he has conveniently left wide open as he scrolls on his desktop. His knees are pressed against his chest as he's heavily focused on editing his Facebook page. There's a rock song playing lightly from another tab that you can't quite identify; he uses his free hand to gently tap along to the beat of the music.
His room is covered in cardboard boxes, soon to be packed into his parents' minivan and making their way to the University of San Francisco dorms.
Your knuckles tap on his wooden door, your heart fluttering when he turns around, and you realize he's changed the ring on his lip from black to silver.
He nods at you, "What's up?"
"Nothing. I just know you're leaving in the morning, and I wanted to say bye. And wish you good luck, of course." You're not sure why you're so heartbroken. It's not like the two of you were ever a thing. It's not like this would be your last time seeing him. Why were you so upset?
"Cool, thanks." You assume that was his way of indirectly telling you to get out until he reaches into his desk drawer and says, "Catch," before tossing something towards you.
Careful not to mess up your manicure, you easily catch the item, unfolding what appears to be a purple bandanna. "What's this for?" You ask, inspecting the material in your palms.
"To remember me by, duh. Plus, it matches your nails.”
It'd be silly to tell him you genuinely don't need this because there was no way in hell you could ever forget about him. Instead, you clutch the bandana tightly in your fist and make a silent vow to keep it with you at all times; have a piece of him with you at all times.
You thank him and tell him it's nice, but all you can wonder is why he even wants you to remember him in the first place. Maybe you're overthinking. He probably just didn't care for the useless accessory anymore.
When you turn to leave, Jungkook stops you with a gentle call of your name. He turns his head in your direction, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. "Can I tell you something?"
"Anything." You whisper back, praying you don't sound overly desperate for a more extended interaction with him.
A beat of silence passes, and just as he opens his mouth to respond, Somi is stomping up the stairs and belting out your name. You gaze away from Jungkook to glance behind you, listening as his sister shouts about doing each other's makeup.
"Never mind, actually. It's not important." Jungkook interrupts, and you physically feel your heart sink to the floor.
You're about to be annoying and pry a response out of him until your eyes dart to his floor, and you see it. What slipped out from his drawer when he tossed the bandana at you. 
A condom wrapper. An empty one, at that.
It's embarrassing how quickly your vision becomes glossy, salty tears threatening to release with each passing second. Of course, he's fucking someone. Of course, that person isn't you. Of fucking course.
You shouldn't be surprised; he's probably more into girls with a similar aesthetic. She's probably covered in tattoos and piercings, just like him. She's probably older than you and may even have her own car, unlike you, who still had to catch rides with your parents or older sister. 
It's odd, though. You're not entirely naive; you know Jungkook definitely flirts with you here and there, catching his eye when his gaze lingers on you for a second too long. There's a noticeable tension between the two of you that even your parents have teased about. And this whole time, he's been screwing someone else?
Jungkook hangs out with so many girls it'd be useless to even attempt to uncover who this mystery person is. It's none of your business, anyway. 
So you leave.
You tell Somi you'll get grounded if you're home past curfew, and with tear-stained cheeks, you run home.
The following day isn't any easier.
Somi posted a photo on FaceBook of herself and Jungkook posing together, arms wrapped around each other, with the caption "c u l8r alligator XD". The comments are already flooded with responses wishing Jungkook farewell, some from family members or friends of the siblings.
"Don't 4get abt me!!!!!! >:( "from a girl with red hair catches your eye because it's the only one Jungkook responded to. You can't bring yourself to read his full reply, fingers moving to quickly close the tab after seeing the word 'Never.'
It's probably her, you think to yourself, the one he's sleeping with.
Maybe it's for the best that Jungkook's moving away; it'll give you some time to get over him. 
And you most certainly did.
The only time he ever crosses your mind is when Somi brings him up (which she rarely does) or when you pass by his empty bedroom. Deep down, you know you'll always care for Jungkook on some level, but time away from him was just what you needed. You were too attached to him for no fathomable reason, rejecting any guy interested in you with the premise of being loyal to a guy who didn't even want you. He'd probably been sneaking girls in through his window, with you a few doors down doing magazine quizzes with his sister; blissfully unaware of what was happening down the hall.
You’re better off without him.
That's what you've been telling yourself daily until now. It's the start of summer vacation, and Jungkook's been summoned home to spend it with his family before Somi (and you) transfer to the University of San Francisco. 
Jungkook was hesitant about coming home, as he always is. In constant fear that his parents have some elaborate plan for him to change his major or set him up with someone they deem acceptable, nothing like the girls he hangs around and probably invites back to his dorm.
It took days of convincing until Jungkook finally agreed to come home, under the premise that his parents' intentions were pure and that they simply wanted one last summer together before Somi moved away for college. They also hoped he'd be able to house-sit and watch over Somi for a few days as they took their annual anniversary trip to San Diego. That, however, took some bribing and the promise of gas money on their end.
He's not due to arrive until tomorrow morning, and you've convinced yourself there's no reason for you to see him right away. You'd be fine if the next time you saw him was in a few months as you're moving into your dorm. After years of longing, you've finally moved on from him.
Some of you have debated telling Somi about your past feelings for her brother, but there's no point. It was a one-sided relationship with absolutely zero depth, nothing worth discussing. So when she nudges your side and asks if you're interested in anyone, you reply with a shake of your head.
Somi has no reaction to this; she can't remember the last time you've been into anyone despite having the entire male population at your school practically throwing themselves at you. "Maybe you'll meet someone tonight."
She's referencing the house party you're going to, which she practically had to drag you out of your room to attend. Parties are different from your scene, especially on a day like today when you were hoping to have a girls' night with Somi. She had other plans, however.
"Maybe," you respond, sighing as the house you're attending is finally in your viewpoint. "We're not staying long, right? It looks packed."
Cars are parked throughout the street, one house, in particular, being the center of attention with loud music and drunk people decorating the front yard of a suburban-looking home. Somi looks as ecstatic as ever, looping her arm in yours and picking up her pace. She doesn't respond. It doesn't matter. Her response would've disregarded your concern.
One car catches your eye as you enter the unfamiliar house; it's parked towards the end of the street, and you swear you've been in it before. You're not able to dwell on it for too long, though, because Somi has to practically yank you through the front door.
Your nerves are at an all-time high. The music is entirely too loud, and there isn't a single sober person in sight. You're not sure how Somi even found out about this party, but you really wish she would've left you out of it. You'd go now if it were acceptable, but Somi would've stayed regardless, and you refuse to leave her alone. So, you push your feelings to the side and take her hand as she leads you towards the kitchen. 
"Thirsty?" Somi questions, forcing a red solo cup into your hand.
"Not at all," you respond, sighing as Somi pours something into your cup.
"It's just ginger ale," she reassures you, "I don't think either of us should get drunk here." For once, she's being reasonable.
Somi suggests you do a lap around the house in hopes of running into people you may have gone to school with. And to your surprise, a decent amount of your past classmates have decided to attend. You feel more at ease with them around, a bit more comfortable now that you're around recognizable people. Although you initially hesitated to show up, you're glad you did. 
"Anybody catch your eye yet? Or are you still breaking hearts?" Your old classmate, Yeoreum, questions.
You shake your head, about to explain that you're not interested in dating right now, until she gestures behind you. "That guy is pretty cute."
You shift on the couch, looking around until you spot who Yeoreum had been gesturing towards. You locate him finally, and she's right; he is cute. He just seems so familiar.
That's when it hits you.
"Oh my God," you whisper, eyes locked on him, and you slowly rise from the couch.
It's Jungkook. And the car you recognized was his. He's here. What is he doing here? He isn't due to be back until tomorrow morning.
You almost don't realize it's him until you spot the mole under his lip. He's grown his hair out and stopped dyeing it, the slew of tattoos that decorated his arm (God, did he start working out, too?) nicely connected, now creating a sleeve, and he's given himself an eyebrow piercing. Your feelings for him come rushing back in full force.
Panicked, you reach for Somi's hand, but she's nowhere to be found. Careful not to be seen by her brother, you bow your head slightly, passing through a crowd of sweaty bodies until you finally spot her kitty heels. She's leaned against a wall, swirling around her cup while flirting with some guy you'd seen around school a few times.
Creating some much-needed distance between the two, you tug Somi towards you. "I think I just saw your brother."
"What? No, he won't even be in the city until tomorrow morning." 
Frustrated, you quickly search the crowd until your eyes land on him again. You ignore the fact that he's now speaking to some girl with red hair and tattoos scattered across her arm and point in their direction, "Well, then that guy looks just like him."
Somi squints her eyes in disbelief at the boy in question until the doubt becomes confusion, and the confusion becomes realization. "Oh my God! The fuck is he doing here?" She turns towards you as if you're supposed to have the answer.
"The fuck should I know? You said he wouldn't be here until tomorrow morning!"
"Because that's what he told our parents! How was I supposed to know he was gonna be here? I never would've come if I knew!"
"What are you guys doing here?" A voice you haven't heard in so long interrupts. You don't even want to turn around.
"What are you doing here?" Somi throws back, and the two stare at each other in angry silence for a moment until Jungkook steps to the side. "Upstairs," he says, nodding towards the staircase.
"But—"
"Go."
Somi's clearly aggravated but makes her way towards the stairs. You remain in place with your arms crossed, raising a brow in confusion when Jungkook looks at you. "What?"
"You too."
"I'm not—"
"I'm not asking again," he says simply. You convince yourself that you only take his command because you don't feel like fighting. Definitely not because it's interesting to have him boss you around.
Trudging up the stairs behind Somi, you wait with her in the hallway until Jungkook arrives. "Come on," he says, entering a bathroom and turning the light on. Neither you nor Somi protest; there really isn't any point.
As soon as the door is shut, Somi is yelling at the top of her lungs. "What the fuck are you doing here?! You said you wouldn't be back until tomorrow morning! Mom and Dad had to push their trip back just to give you more time to arrive, and you're already fucking here?! The fuck is the matter with you?!"
"I'm not gonna respond if you're gonna be yelling like this." Jungkook says calmly, leaning against the sink, "Let me get my questions out first, then I'll answer any of yours, deal?"
Somi glances over at you, sitting on the bathtub's edge, and you nod. She returns her attention back to Jungkook, takes a deep breath, then agrees. 
"Now, what are you guys doing here?! How'd you even get invited?! And you're drinking?!" The calm demeanor from earlier slips away in a matter of seconds, clearly a hoax just to get Somi to calm down enough to let him speak.
"It's just ginger ale, and we've barely even had any! We were invited by our friends, okay? We have just as much right to be here as you do."
Jungkook scoffs, clearly unamused. "Right, and I'm assuming Mom and Dad know you're here then, huh?"
Somi nervously tucks a hair behind her ear. You wonder why you even have to be in here with them. It's not like Jungkook is your brother, anyway. 
"We told our parents that we were going to a birthday party at a friend's house." Somi mumbles, barely able to look Jungkook in the eye.
"And what did they say when they dropped you guys off?"
"They didn't drop us off," you interrupt, "we walked here."
"Well, I wasn't gonna tell him that." Somi glares at you, it takes every bone in your body to not to laugh at her.
You're so over this. You didn't want to attend this dumb party in the first place, and seeing Jungkook flirting with some girl who could've been his female counterpart was the icing on the cake. It doesn't matter if your feelings for him were gone before tonight; every little emotion you'd felt for him over the years had returned (as if they ever left).
"And how exactly did you two geniuses plan on getting home?"
"Same way we got here."
"Can you please just let me handle this? Jesus Christ…" Somi shoots another frustrated glare at you, and you can't help but roll your eyes at her. She turns back towards her brother, "Can you answer my questions now?"
Jungkook's eyes anxiously dart around the cramped bathroom, landing on you a few times before he's slowly nodding his head. "Alright, Mom and Dad basically forced me to spend the whole summer here, and I kept asking myself why they were so persistent about it. They finally told me they needed me to watch over you and the house for their stupid trip. I had plans too, you know? That I had to derail for them. My band could've spent this summer touring, making real money, and now we can't. So, they wanna inconvenience me? I'll inconvenience them right back."
"…Inconvenience them by doing what?" Somi asks the exact question you had.
Jungkook shrugs, "By telling them I'm gonna be arriving a day late, duh."
You and Somi exchange an awkward glance at one other before silently agreeing not to tease him about it. If this was his badass way of retaliating, who were you to rain on his parade?
"Are you gonna tell anyone you saw us here?" Somi questions, a noticible tremble in her voice.
"As long as you guys don't tell anyone you saw me."
It's a fair trade, you accept it. You're even more delighted when Jungkook says he's taking the two of you home. Somi, however, isn't too happy about this, claiming there were so many people she didn't get to speak to, and how'd this be the last time she'd get to see them before moving away for school. You're not sure if Somi is really good at getting what she wants, or if Jungkook was tired of hearing her complain, but he finally gives in and grants her ten more minutes to socialize before meeting him at his car.
"If you're not at my car in ten minutes, I swear to God I'm calling mom." Jungkook scolds, holding the bathroom door open as the three of you finally exit.
A loud, drunk voice suddenly shouts, "Woah, Jungkook! Two girls at the same time!? You fucking beast!"
"They're my sisters, you fucking pervert!" He shouts back.
You can't even dwell on how disgusting the original comment was, only being able to focus on the fact that Jungkook just reffered to you as his sister. As conceited as it may sound, you're not used to rejection or guys putting you in the friend-zone. Whatever little game Jungkook had been playing with you over the years was completely new territory. And right when you think things couldn't possibly get any worse, he calls you his sister.
What the actual fuck.
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The next ten minutes go by in a blur; Somi has ditched you for a second time that night to talk to the guy from earlier. When it's finally time to leave, you find her Sat on his lap with her arm hung across his shoulder, laughing at an unfunny pickup line he'd used on her.
"It's time, Somi," you interrupt, helping her stand.
"Wait, wait, wait," she persists, directing her attention back to the boy, "tomorrow at five, right?"
"And not a second later." He sends her a disgusting wink that makes your skin crawl.
Somi is so love-struck you're surprised there isn't an arrow lodged in her back. She can barely form a proper sentence, erupting into a fit of giggles every few seconds as you make your way to Jungkook's car. "Wasn't he just gorgeous?"
You shrug, linking arms with her. "He was alright."
Stunned, Somi gasps at you, "Just alright? He was literally like a Greek God."
"I'm not saying he's unattractive; he's just...not really my type."
"And what is your type, Miss. Never-Has-Been-Interested-In-Anyone?"
Now, there's the question of the hour. You have to word your response very carefully; don't be too obvious about the fact that your ideal type is her older sibling. 
"I guess I prefer guys with an edgier look to them, you know? Tattoos, piercings..." Despite your attempt to sound as nonchalant as possible, your heart is beating out of your chest from the mild confession.
Somi snickers, then playfully groans. "It sounds like you're describing my brother."
Now, you really have to test the waters.
"Since you brought him up, would it be so bad if I did like Jungkook? Hypothetically speaking, of course." You're not sure what prompts you to even ask this. It's not like he's even interested in you; he literally just referred to you as his sister.
A beat of silence passes as Somi gathers her thoughts, then she says, "No."
"What?"
You've finally reached Jungkook's car at this point, beating him there. You sit atop the trunk, feet hovering above the ground as the cold, nighttime air swirls around you. Somi shakes her head, "Obviously, it wouldn't be the ideal situation, but I guess I wouldn't mind as long as you talked to me about it first."
"First?" You mimic.
"Like...assuming you'd wanna date him or something. Just so I'm not blindsided, you know?"
This is the last thing you would've expected your impulsive, hotheaded (yet oh-so-loveable) best friend to be reasonable about. Mainly because she lectured you for nearly twenty minutes when she first suspected you had a crush on Jungkook. 
You go to respond, but Jungkook, finally arriving at the car, captivates both of your attention. He finishes off his can of Pepsi before crushing the aluminum and tossing it to the ground. "Ready?" He questions.
There's no point in giving him a speech about littering; you're just ready to go home.
He fishes his keys from his pocket and unlocks the car door; Somi opens the backseat and jumps in before you have the chance, sprawling across the aged leather. "Move over," you nudge her foot with your knee; she pulls away from you.
Jungkook calls your name, "Just sit up front. She's not gonna move."
Now, this is new. You've ridden in the backseat of his car with Somi more times than you can count; he'd never allow either of you to sit shotgun with him; typical annoying older brother bullshit.
Don't make a big deal out of this, you say to yourself, climbing into the passenger seat of his car.
Somi and Jungkook bicker the entire ride to their parent's house, partially out of annoyance with each other, but you also get the feeling that neither of them were genuinely ready to leave the party. You're surprised Jungkook even enjoyed parties; he spent most of high school either working, hanging out at skate parks, or practicing with his band in their garage. College must've really changed him, and you're unsure how to feel about it. 
Jungkook parks a few houses down from their parent's house and unlocks the doors, "Get out," he says into the backseat.
"Where are you gonna spend the night?" Somi questions, stretching her arms outward.
"I checked into a motel this morning. I'll be back here tomorrow around noon. And, hey," Jungkook turns around, pointing a finger at his sister. "Don't tell them you saw me."
Mockingly, Somi points a finger right back at him. "Telling them I saw you would be exposing myself, cock-sucker. Leave me alone." She angrily begins to climb out of the car, annoyed at how little trust Jungkook had in her.
You turn to go, but Jungkook's cold hand on your bicep stops you, "Where you goin'?"
"I'm gonna walk home from here. It's only a few minutes away," you respond.
Jungkook shakes his head, "I'm dropping you off. You haven't moved since I left, right?"
"No, but it's fi—"
"Then your house is on the way to my motel. We're going in the same direction; might as well ride together."
It truly does make more sense to ride together, and rejecting his offer any further surely would raise suspicions. You don't want either of them to believe you'd feel uncomfortable being alone with Jungkook because that couldn't be farther from the truth. You're perplexed about your feelings now, and you don't want to do anything you'd regret just because of the confusion.
"Okay, then." You glance over your shoulder at Somi, "Will you need any help getting ready for your date tomorrow?"
Suddenly embarrassed, Somi shushes you, gesturing that Jungkook is literally right next to you and would prefer that he didn't hear about her dating life. Jungkook genuinely couldn't care less and is instead patiently waiting for his sister to get out.
She does finally, and Jungkook resumes his path to your house. He turns the radio on, switching between stations until he stops on one that's playing a song he's familiar with. You drive silently for a few minutes; the only sounds being heard are the distant noises from the car's motor and Jungkook humming along to the radio.
He breaks the silence by saying, "I was surprised to see you back there. You never really seemed like the type to enjoy parties."
You chuckle, "I could say the same for you; I don't remember you attending any in high school."
"That's 'cause house parties weren't my thing," he explains, "I went to raves or parties that would happen at the skate park. I don't really like being at someone else's house for too long; it feels too intimate."
Now that you think of it, skate park parties and raves seem much more like his scene.
"Well, I only went because Somi was going, and I didn't feel comfortable with her being there alone. Otherwise, I never would've gone." You admit, resting your head against the window.
"Thanks for looking after her, by the way. You're a good friend."
"I'd do anything for her." Your voice is barely a whisper now, getting quieter with every word you say.
Silence passes, and he says, "Did you know your guys' dorm room is gonna be right under ours?"
"Seriously?" You respond, genuinely curious.
"Mmm-hmm. My roommate, Mingyu, and I are gonna be the worst upstairs neighbors ever." He teases as you roll your eyes. Your mind can't decipher whether this banter is playful & platonic or romantic. Everything Jungkook does confuses you.
"If that's the case, I'll be sure to move to an entirely new building."
"What, so you can have your boyfriend protect you?"
Pause. Boyfriend?
You nearly give yourself whiplash from how hard you spun around to look at Jungkook. "Boyfriend?" You ask.
He shrugs nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the road. "I just assumed you'd have one by now. Do you?"
There he is again with his mind games. What the fuck was he talking about?
After letting out a very frustrated sigh, you mumble, "No, Jungkook, I do not have a boyfriend."
"Good. Focus on school."
Now he's pissing you off. You wish he'd shut up for the rest of the car ride. "It's nice to see you again, by the way."
Holy shit, you feel like jumping out the window.
"Yeah, great seeing you too. Oh, there's my house. I can walk from here." You make quick work of undoing your seatbelt.
"You sure? I can drop you off at the door."
"No, no. It's best if my parents don't see you so they don't accidentally tell your parents that they saw you." You lie, racking your brain for any excuse imaginable.
He nods, deciding it's best to drop you off a little further from your house. "Then, I'll see you tomorrow?"
"What?" You stop dead in your tracks, one hand clutching the door handle.
"Aren't you coming over tomorrow to help Somi get ready for her…thing? I'll be back home by then."
He's right; you'd be back in his house, and he'll be there this time. It's no big deal. You'd only be there for an hour (at most) to help her prepare, and then you could go the whole summer without seeing him again.
"Yeah, I'll see you then."
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The following day, Somi is back to her unreasonable self, expecting you to wait at her house for her to return from her date.
"Please? We're just going to get pizza; we won't even be gone that long." She pleads, adding the finishing touches to her makeup.
You'd already spent over an hour helping her prepare, and now she expects you to do nothing but await her return. You know her heart's in the right place; she just wants to be the first to hear all the exhilarating details about her date. Still, a phone call would suffice. 
"What am I supposed to do while I wait for you to come back?" You whine.
"Just hang out here! Watch a movie or something!" She suggests, trying her absolutely hardest to sound enthusiastic. Her phone buzzes in her hand before she has the chance to continue, eyes lighting up as they flicker across the bright screen.
Somi clutches her phone, locks eyes with you, then rushes towards the door. You're faster, though, quickly capturing her wrist before she's barely reached the hallway. "I'm going home."
"No! If you stay here, I'll bring you back pizza, and we can have a girls' night like we were supposed to yesterday! Come on, please?" She begs, pouting her lips.
You go to reply, but the bathroom door swings open, and Jungkook strides out. Just to your luck, he's shirtless; water droplets descend from his hair as he towel-dries it. As he enters his bedroom, he mocks his sister's high-pitched whine, earning a lethal glare and a slew of swears thrown at him.
Perhaps you should stay.
"Fine, but you're lending me your pajamas." You give in, earning an enthusiastic shriek from your best friend. 
Somi wraps you in a brief, yet tight, hug before shouting, "Be back soon!" Then she's rushing down the stairs and out the front door. It's not often that Somi makes you wait for her return, but you absolutely despise it whenever it does occur. She's never back by the time she promises and gets upset when you try to call and check up on her.
And speaking of calling, you're sure your phone is dead by now. You insisted Somi bring her's along just in case, so you're left with one option.
Jungkook's door is wide open (as usual) when you go to knock. He's fully clothed now, pairing his black sweatpants with a matching black t-shirt. His hair appears mostly dry now, chaotic as ever, but dry. You don't think he's ever looked this good before.
He's sat on his bed, flipping through the latest copy of Rolling Stone when you arrive. He glances over at you and lets out a dry chuckle.
"What's so funny?" You ask.
"You're dressed like Bella Swan." He responds casually, eyes raking up and down your body. 
"Who?"
"From Twilight. You know, that new movie that came out?" He seems genuinely surprised that you don't seem to know anything about this movie, not even the name of (who you suspect to be) the main character.
You lean against the doorframe, "Haven't seen it."
"It's a great movie, seriously. Some friends and I are seeing it in a few days if you and Somi wanna come." He suggests, flipping another page in the magazine.
You let him know you'll ask Somi if she's interested before remembering why you came to his room in the first place and ask if you can borrow his phone charger. Jungkook directs you to where it's plugged up by his desk, and you finally have the chance to stroll further into his room. You can't recall the last time you've been in here, but you know it looks much different than before. Many of the band posters that decorated the room were gone, his random trinkets and piles of clothes were gone, and not a single piece of his CD collection was in sight. It felt so lifeless, so unlike him. No wonder he always dreaded returning home; it probably didn't even feel like home to him.
"So," you say, attempting to break the silence, "you're here for the whole summer, huh?"
"Unfortunately." He mumbles, "Gonna try and go by sooner, convince my parents I have to sort out an issue with my dorm or something."
"It's nice to have you back, though." You admit, watching as Jungkook's gaze locks on yours.
"Yeah? It is?" He questions.
You shrug, "Of course. We practically grew up together; it was weird to not see you all the time."
He sits up now, closing the magazine and tossing it on his nightstand. There's something on his mind that he isn't saying; you can tell from the way his brows knit together and how he's anxiously tugging on his lip piercing. "It was weird to be gone," he mumbles and leaves it at that.
"By the way, I'm sorry about last night." He apologizes.
"For what? Calling me your sister?"
He laughs at this, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to do that on purpose, by the way. That guy was just...so weird, I kinda blurted out the first thing that would've made him feel weird for even thinking that."
Oh. That makes sense. You definitely overreacted. 
"I meant," he continues, "I'm sorry if the whole boyfriend assumption thing upset you."
"Oh," you dismissively wave a hand at him, "that was nothing."
Jungkook raises a brow at you, "Are you sure? 'Cause you seemed pretty upset afterward, you were practically running out of my car."
There's no point in lying now, considering you weren't even the slightest bit discrete the previous night.
"If I'm being completely honest, I just felt a little awkward. But that's it, I swear." You assure him, moving to lean against the bedside table.
"Awkward about what?"
God, this was so embarrassing. Is he really going to make you humiliate yourself like this?
"Because I've never actually had a boyfriend before."
Jungkook looks genuinely shocked at your confession, eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he examines yours for any sign of deception. "You don't believe me?"
"I'm not sure. I only assumed you had one just based on how crazy guys were about you in high school. Not to mention you're, like, fucking gorgeous."
What?
"I'm what?" You ask, not entirely sure if you heard him correctly.
He repeats himself again, and you make him do it a few more times until he's too embarrassed to say it again. You somehow manage to get back on the topic of never having a boyfriend before when Jungkook asks you another question. "Have you ever...?"
He doesn't need to finish the sentence. You know what he's asking.
You shake your head.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business." He berates himself, and you assure him it's no big deal and that it shouldn't even be a shocker to him.
After a half hour of talking about whatever comes to mind, you wind up sitting opposite Jungkook on his bed, legs perched up underneath your body as you go back and forth, questioning one another. 
"So, when are you gonna admit you had a crush on me?" His voice is barely a whisper.
"I never did." You lie.
"Really? That sucks?"
"Why?"
He shrugs, leaning his back against the headboard. "I just always thought that maybe you and I would've ended up together at some point."
You don't remember who leans in first; it doesn't matter; all that matters is after years of longing, your lips are finally intertwined with his. He must've smoked today; you can taste the nicotine on his breath. But it doesn't matter; you don't make the slightest move to pull away. Neither does he, placing his hands on the small of your back to guide you onto his lap. 
Your body is moving on autopilot, limbs moving to do whatever feels right as you silently pray not to ruin the moment. Jungkook can spot your nervousness from a mile away and stop you, "We don't have to do—"
"I want to," you pant, breathless, "I've wanted this for so long."
"Do you trust me?" He asks.
"More than anything."
He kisses you again before adjusting your current position, slowly twisting yourselves until you're lying flat on your back. He moves his lips down towards your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his path as he settles between your legs.
You reach up to grab a handful of his hair, nearly jumping out of your skin as his delicate fingertips creep up your inner thigh, inching closer and closer until his ghosting over your clothed pussy. "This okay?" He mumbles.
You nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. "Cute," he replies, "you're already so wet." His fingertips stroke your clit through your damp underwear; you don't think to wonder how he managed to get to it so quickly, all thoughts leaving your brain as he makes small circles using his middle and index finger. 
"Jungkook…" You moan, pleading for him to do more.
"I know." He assures you, using a single finger to pull your panties to the side, making just enough room for him to slide a finger into your aching cunt. "Am I really your first time?"
You nod again out of fear that a moan would slip from your lips if you even tried to speak. His eyes are locked on yours, studying your expression as he coaxes a finger inside you. You're embarrassed at how quickly your wetness coated his finger, but Jungkook doesn't care. He likes it, makes him feel fucking amazing knowing the effect he had on you. 
"Take your shirt off." He says, and you do as told, pulling your top up and off your body and tossing it to the floor; making quick work of undoing your bra before he even has the chance to ask.
His lips are back on your neck instantly, trailing down to your collarbone until he reaches the curve on your breast. He halts his actions momentarily before your pitched nipple is caught between his teeth and your back arching off the bed from how overstimulating everything feels.
You curse under your breath, and Jungkook makes another comment about how cute you are, though you feel far from it. He apologizes by lapping his tongue around your nipple, easing the pain slowly as he inserts a second finger into your cunt.
You can feel his bulge against your thigh, though he doesn't even care about getting himself off. He moves over to your nipple, licking and sucking until it's completely hardened, leaving himself breathless. The two fingers that had been working your cunt had picked up the pace now, and there was an unfamiliar feeling in your gut that you couldn't identify.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…" You groan, legs trembling.
Jungkook is all too familiar with these actions and asks, "You're already close? I've barely done anything to you." He teases, chuckling to himself.
You know he's being lighthearted, but you can't help but feel embarrassed at the tears forming in your eyes from how good everything feels.
Suddenly, he's pulling his fingers out of you, and now you feel like crying for a different reason. You go to protest but stop to watch as he takes his shirt off. If you weren't sure then, it's obvious now he'd started attending the gym. 
He makes quick work of tugging his sweatpants down his legs, tossing them into the abyss before reaching into his bedside table and retrieving a condom. "You're okay?"
You nod.
"Use your words."
“I’m okay, Jungkook.”
"You're still okay with this?"
"Yes."
"You sure?"
Jesus fucking Christ, the saint this man is.
"I'm positive." You assure him.
You move to pull down your skirt and underwear, but Jungkook catches your wrist. "Leave them on," he says. There are so many things going on that you choose not to question.
He pulls off his boxers in the meantime, hardened cock slapping against his abdomen with precum leaking from the tip. Though you had nothing to compare it to, Jungkook was obviously slightly larger than average. You shouldn't be surprised; it's always the guys that you'd least expect.
He tears the condom wrapper with his teeth, retrieving the rubber inside before tossing the remains to his floor. Despite being fully erect, he fists his cock a few times before sliding the condom on.
He crawls over you, left arm at the side of his head, while he uses his dick to nudge your panties to the side. "This still okay?"
"I already told you—fuck!" He cuts you off, the tip of his cock slowly making its way inside you. You feel so stretched out from this alone you don't know how you'd manage to fit all of him into you.
Jungkook must be feeling the same, swearing under his breath and commenting about how tight you feel around him. Second by second, he coaxes himself into your pussy until you feel like you could split right open. "Are you all the way in?"
"No, can't take anymore?" He asks, leaning his head down against your ear.
You're embarrassed to admit he's too big to handle on your first time, but it's the truth. You don't want to overextend yourself just to please him and end up hurting yourself.
"You can move, just…not too much. Please."
Jungkook nods, "Whatever you want, angel."
He pulls his hips back and rocks himself back in, being sure to ask if you're okay with his pace. Once you confirm you feel fine and want him to keep going, he continues his movements; his eager hips snapping against yours and his cock hitting your G-spot with each deep stroke. You feel like you're on cloud nine, hands tangled in his hair as he swallows your moans.
That unfamiliar feeling from earlier returns; you feel it through your entire body this time. A moan of his name escaping your lips lets him know you're close. How he can always sense these things is beyond you; it's not worth overthinking. 
"Close?" He asks, and you nod frantically.
Jungkook picks up his speed slightly, careful not to overwhelm you, but just enough to reach your climax, until finally, the bundle of nerves in your abdomen snaps, and your back is arching off the mattress as you come around his cock.
He's only a few seconds behind with his orgasm, erupting in a loud grunt when he finally reaches it. The two of you lay in silence for a moment before Jungkook finally pulls out of you and slides the condom off, tying it in a knot and tossing it into his trash bin.
"Are you okay?" He asks for what feels like the millionth time.
"I'm fine." You respond, and it isn't a lie. Physically, you feel terrific; mentally, it was an entirely different story. "Are you?"
"I'm good, I'm good."
As much as you would love to lay naked with Jungkook in his bed for the rest of the night, you know Somi will be home anytime soon. "I think I'm gonna go wash up."
He nods, crawling under his covers once you stand from his bed, tugging your skirt to its proper length as you search for your remaining clothing. "Oh, it's um…your shirt, it's over there." Jungkook awkwardly gestures towards a pile of clothing by the end of his bed.
Almost as quickly as you shred yourself of them, you snatch your clothing and bundle them up against your chest. 
"Listen, I know right now isn't really ideal, but I meant what I said about liking you, and really think we should talk." He says nervously, barely even able to look at you.
You almost want to laugh at how cute he is; instead, you agree to talk to him about it soon. You're about to head out into the hallway when Jungkook reminds you about your charging phone over by his desk.
You retrieve it and scan the area again, ensuring you haven't left anything else behind. When everything seems clear, you stand upright, but your eyes fall toward the trash bin near his window with the discarded condom. You're embarrassed to even look at it until you realize something seems off. It looks…empty. 
Now, you're no sex expert, but imagine that if Jungkook had finished, there'd be something to show for it in the condom. Right?
Did he fake his orgasm? Was this another one of his fucked up mind games you'd been subjected to? 
You don't know what to think as you step into the bathroom; your emotions are all over the place, and all you really want to do is go home. But you promised Somi you'd be here when she returns, so you stay.
The next time a Jeon sibling asks if you're okay is twenty minutes later when Somi finally arrives and asks why your eyes are so watery.
"I'm fine." You respond, and you're lying for the first time that night.
6K notes · View notes
melancholyhigh · 8 months
Text
ALL MINE.
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ft. leon x f!reader
synopsis. you realize you're in love with your roommate. it sucks that he's ignoring you all of a sudden.
content. 4.7k words. smut. slight jealousy/possessiveness, subby leon, dry humping, handjob, finger sucking, praise & degradation kink, unprotected p in v (riding), overstimulation, creampie, slight subspace.
note. i had mental anguish while writing this so i apologize if it's not my best. i'm also sorry for being so inactive :((
masterlist. i love feedback & reblogs <3
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Leon S. Kennedy was probably the best roommate you could’ve asked for.
He had fit the criteria you hand conjured for the perfect housemate the first time you met. Leon was calm, and the apartment was pretty clean. From what you can tell, he cared enough about himself and his surroundings. 
Hell, the place looked almost uninhabited save for some trinkets and a few bits of his personality sprinkled about.
Only if you had known what you were getting yourself into when you had agreed to become his roommate.
–-
The first month of residing with Leon was great. You rarely crossed paths and never really communicated with each other due to how stressful looking for a new job was, and then proceeding to attend said job was tiring enough for you to make little social interactions.
He was relatively closed off as well. Not talking to you unless necessary or common courtesy such as a simple ‘Good morning.’
After you settled in, you noticed how much of a strange man Leon was. For one, when he did go to work, he left for weeks at a time, and in his return, he was even more closed off somehow. Leon doesn’t spare you a glance or a greeting, only grunting if you ask if he is alright.
He’s also covered in bruises and bandages, leaving you more concerned.
It made you question who really was your roommate.
In the first meeting you and Leon had, you inquired about his job, mostly to try and figure out how your schedule would work, but also with genuine interest. At the time, he merely shrugged, not answering your question point blank, telling you not to worry about it. 
He mentioned his past job as a police officer. You’d dare to ask him more about it, but you didn’t want to pry, leaving the questions for another day.
Lately, you’ve been wishing more than ever that he had answered the question instead of dodging it. In rare moments that you focus on anything else but your job, it often leads you to think about Leon and what he does while he’s away.
It annoys you too that he doesn’t tell you when he’s leaving. He doesn’t owe it to you, but some nights you think he’s getting a drink, only to return a few days later bloodied and bruised.
One night, your overthinking got the worst of you after Leon returned to your apartment in the worst condition you’ve seen in the past few months you’ve been living with him.
Up late, you were in the shared living room, wondering when he’d get home. It had been two weeks since you had last seen Leon. It was way longer than his usual business days. You had been worrying nonstop, not getting a wink of sleep. Was he dead? You’d be the first suspect on the list.
You had called him multiple times, all going to voicemail. That is until you heard the faint creaking of the front door. There he walked in, faced all fucked up. His lip busted, sporting ugly yellow and purple bruises all over the exposed flesh of his body, and a bandage wrapped around his left hand blotted with dry blood.
He was awkwardly shuffling into the room, trying not to wake, you presume. A bit late for that. 
“Where the hell were you, Leon?” your voice breaks the early morning silence. 
You see him jump slightly in surprise, almost dropping his bag. A different emotion washes through him. A mix of fright and guilt, it’s different from what you’re used to seeing him with.
Leon quickly composes himself, going back to his stoic expression. Taking his shoes caked in mud off at the front door, resting his bag down, he walks over to the kitchen opening the fridge. The light streams out, illuminating the kitchen as you follow him, awaiting an answer.
“Didn’t I tell you not to worry about it?” His back is turned to you, rummaging through the contents of the fridge.
“You’ve been gone for two weeks,” you stress with exhaustion, eyeing his injuries. “What the fuck happened to you.”
He flexes his broad shoulder before turning around to face you. His gaze pins you down before he’s back to ignoring you as he chugs the cold bottled water in his grasp. The fridge is still open, and it adds more nuisance within you.
“It’s not that bad,” he shrugs. He finally shuts the fridge close, only the moon’s light filtering into the room. “Why do you care, anyways?”
“‘Cause when you go missing, I’ll be the one locked up, Leon,” you say. He’s staring at you, trying to suppress a smirk. 
“You sure it’s not ‘cause you like me? I’m here to stay.” Is this fucker teasing you? He’s nothing like you first met him. Maybe it’s the blood loss. But to be fair, this is the first proper conversation you’ve had with him in months — you didn’t know how he actually was. 
Rolling your eyes, you ignore him, shifting your focus to his bandaged hand, blood seeping through the fabric. 
“Let me take a look at that, please,” you urge, taking his hand into yours. You overlook the questions blooming in your mind to tend to his injury.
“Okay.”
You turn the lights on, searching for a first aid kit. Once you retrieve it, you’re back in front of Leon, who’s sat patiently at the dining table. 
You roll the sleeves of your sweatshirt up before carefully peeling the fabric sticking to his bloody skin. The large gash on the back of his hand makes you uneasy. It’s deep, almost to the bone, and blood spills onto his pale skin.
“Your stitches reopened,” you tell him, cleaning the wound with a damp cloth. What did he do to warrant such an injury? “If it worsens, you need to go to the hospital.” 
“Mhm, you work with patients?” You shake your head, wrapping the wound with fresh gauze. 
“What’s your job, then?”
You scoffed, “Some office job. What’s got you busy, huh?”
“Some government bullshit.”
–-
That night the relationship you had with your roommate shifted. For the better, you supposed. 
You also bonded better with him the following morning while driving him to the hospital. He was so dramatic, yet he continued to undermine his clearly serious injury, refusing to go. The bleeding had not stopped, and you were worried it could get infected.
He was such a baby. You had bargained with him for his own health, promising to do his chores for a whole month so his hand doesn’t get amputated. 
You never really did figure out what his job was, but you guessed it was most likely confidential. It was a vague answer to your question. He could be lying, but once you’re not behind bars, you can’t complain.
You and Leon spent more time with each other.
Even though you had no idea what his job was, he did tell you why he couldn’t disclose such information, something along the lines of putting your safety in jeopardy. Wasn’t him as your roommate just as dangerous? But you didn’t bother. He had his reasons.
Leon, on the other hand, probably learned too much about you and your job. 
You weren’t familiar with the city or the people, so it was nice to talk to someone, and you may have gone overboard. You were here for a better quality of life, and it was significantly better than where you previously lived. 
You loathed your job. Your co-workers were so condescending and passive-aggressive. Not to mention, you couldn’t quit. It paid enough for you to shut your mouth. Well, not to Leon.
You’re sure he’s sick of you talking and complaining. And when you’re not complaining, you both still get along about other stuff. You mostly banter, though, because Leon is such a child.
The guy can barely care for himself, contradicting what you initially thought about him. You care for him most nights after his so-called ‘missions.’ You rebandage his wounds, scolding him for not caring about himself while he’s looped up on pain meds.
Any other night — when he’s actively not trying to get killed, and you’re not incredibly busy — you both get drunk to attempt to forget about responsibilities. Often you were spouting drunken, nonsensical rambles as Leon somehow listened to.
Ironically enough, Leon cared about your well-being more than you do. Maybe you’re delusional, but you swear he does more than a normal roommate should. It’s because you’re constantly checking up on him, you reasoned. He’s just a respectable person.
But what kind of roommate consistently asks about how you’re going? What roommate get you your favourite takeout when you’re not feeling your best? What roommate threatens to beat the shit out of your annoying co-workers?
But you’ve acknowledged that Leon wasn’t your average housemate. Not just his job, but who the fuck looks that good when they’re bleeding out?
–-
Your job has a celebration upcoming, the company’s 50th anniversary. You barely made it a year working for the place, but you want to make a good impression. You also don’t want to bore yourself to death, so why not coerce your lovely roommate to join you as your plus one?
“I’m not gonna go. Don’t you hate that place?” You stare up at him, sulking. 
“Good impressions,” you say before pleading, “C’mon, Leon, please. We can go to the bar after.”
He gives you an unimpressed look before turning away from you.
“I’ll pay for you.” You’re going to go broke because of this man. It catches his attention. 
“So desperate,” he chuckles.
“You’re going?”
“I’m gonna run you dry.”
–-
You definitely weren’t prepared to see Leon in a suit when you exited your room. He’s sat on the couch, his hand nervously running through his hair — notably slicked down with gel. 
“You that serious about making me go bankrupt?” You voice jokingly, breaking Leon out of his thoughts.
His eyes trail along your body, admiring the dress you wore — how it hugs the curves of your body — noticeably gulping as he stands up. The black suit fits his body, accentuating his broad physique and nice ass.
“I keep my promises. I hope you do too.” He says, before mumbling, “You look nice as well.”
You smile at him, ignoring the unusual feeling blooming in your stomach.
The event was indeed incredibly bland. You’re glad you bribed Leon into joining you. He’s been your saving grace. His sly quips and awful jokes have made the experience increasingly more bearable.
Your enjoyment seemed to fizzle when your co-workers wanted to converse with you. They never did before. Why would they now?
Then you realize too late that they’re not here for you. They’re there for the attractive male next to you. You watch in amusement as the girl blatantly ignores you in favour of Leon.
She’s sweet, you’d imagine, but Leon looks awkward, and there’s an uneasy feeling bubbling in your gut as she squeezes his arm in a flirting manner. The feeling is unlike what you’ve felt earlier.
You could go for a drink right now. 
The poor girl’s attempt at seducing Leon goes on longer than you’d like. He’s uncomfortable, and you admire her persistence, but it’s getting on your nerves.
Didn’t she get the memo? He’s your plus one.
You decide to interrupt their conversation, you’re not particularly proud of it, but you want to get drunk. Maybe you’re doing Leon a favour as well.
You pull him away, not offering an explanation, just the promise of getting wasted. 
When you’re at the bar, you both get settled, conversing and taking shots, all on you, of course.
Leon mentions that he understands why you hate your job and colleagues, and you laugh lightly at his claims. While you two talk, a few guys approach you, trying to get your number or asking to buy you a drink, ignoring Leon.
It wasn’t a usual occurrence, but it happened more often than not. And even though you find it flattering, it did begin to irritate you.
You politely declined their requests with an uncomfortable smile on your lips. It felt wrong to indulge in their proposals in front of Leon.
Leon’s eyes gleam with an unknown emotion as another guy approaches you. His grasp on the glass tightens, and it looks like it's about to shatter.
You once again deny the request. As you get more tipsy, your filter worsens as you half-heartedly refuse the poor guy. He walks away, visibly irritated. 
“That’s the fifth guy to ask for your number,” Leon states, taking a swig of his whiskey. His grip on the glass loosens, but his shoulders are still tense. 
You roll your eyes at his over-exaggeration. His suit’s jacket is off, revealing the white button-up shirt underneath. 
“I wasn’t interested. A few girls asked you out, too,” you declared bitterly. You’re not drunk per se, just very tipsy. 
“They’re not my type.”
“What’s your type?” Taking a sip from your drink, you observe Leon shake his head before downing his glass.
“Having fun?” you inquire, and Leon’s grateful you changed the topic.
“Liquor’s better when it’s free.”
–-
It’s the next day, and you haven’t seen Leon since. 
When you woke up, you had a pounding headache. You walked into the kitchen expecting to be greeted by an equally shit-faced Leon, but he was nowhere to be found. It was unlike him.
Usually, he’s already making fun of you for being a lightweight, and you attempt to make breakfast together. He’s probably still in bed. He did drink more than expected. It was a miracle you both got home in one piece.
You took some painkillers before heading back to bed. If you’re up to it, maybe you’ll make breakfast later. 
A few hours have passed, and still no sign of Leon. You wonder if he went to work, but that didn’t make sense. Why would he go to work with a hangover? Leon was a bit careless, though.
He was most likely ignoring you. That would be the last thing you wanted. He was the only person you cared to talk as pathetic as it sounds. Did you say something last night that upset him? He was his usual self, but you probably were too drunk to notice something off.  
He probably has work-related things to worry about. Not everything was about you. Though, you were still concerned.
You had camped in the kitchen for a while, waiting for Leon so you could confront him. You wanted to make sure he was alright.
When he did enter the kitchen, you tried to start a conversation, only for him to dismiss you entirely. He refused to respond to your troubles, getting what he needed and returning to his room. 
You thought it was a one-off thing, but sadly it wasn’t. Leon ignored you the following days, leaving you perplexed. You wished Leon would talk to you about what’s going on. Isn’t that what friends do? Communicate? Every attempt you tried to make was fruitless.
All he’s been doing was ignoring you, and it broke your heart.
His sudden indifference reminded you of when you first moved in. This abrupt disinterest in you left you staring at the ceiling in your bedroom, reflecting on your relationship with Leon. 
You despise how he’s been acting lately. 
You despise his reckless behaviour. You despise his hair that falls so perfectly. You despise how considerate he is. You despise how sweet he is to you. You despise how attractive he looks when he walks about the place shirtless, in short shorts that barely contain the flesh of his thighs and lay low on his hips when he’s sweaty after working out.
You despised how other girls looked at Leon. You despised how other guys looked at you, wishing it were him.
But you don’t hate him, far from it.
You loved his company. From the first night to the night at the bar. You wouldn’t want him to share that with anyone else. He was familiar, so it hurts that he’s been ignoring you. 
He’s treating the moments you’ve had with him seemingly worthless, the time you’ve shared — the late nights when you cared for him. The insecurities you have confided with him. Did it mean anything to him?
He most likely wouldn’t reciprocate your feelings, and you doubt he could. His job explains itself, but you’re still worried as a friend — as his roommate.
Your overthinking has got the best of you, and fuck it. You’re going to confront Leon, whether he likes it or not.
–-
You’ve been building the courage to knock on his door for 20 minutes, pacing back and forth in front of his room door. You didn’t want to make him hate you more, but his bitchy attitude made you wonder why you even liked him in the first place.
Knocking on his door, you instantly regretted it, not wanting to make a fool of yourself, but you had to face him sooner or later. The door surprisingly opens, presenting you with a tired Leon dressed in nothing but his boxers. You probably just woke him up.
When you meet his soft gaze, his brows furrow, and he scowls. It’s been a while since he’s looked at you, so you can take what you can get. 
“What do you want?” Leon dully asks, crossing his arms over his bare chest as he leans on the door’s framing. Okay, so he’s talking to you after a week of silence, granted, not like he used to, but it’s something.
“Why have you been avoiding me?” you counter bluntly, glaring at him. His facade crumbles, shoulders dropping as he frowns. He quickly recovers, scoffing and looking anywhere but at you.
“What are you talking about–” 
“I’m not a dumbass, Leon. Just why? Are you okay?” you quickly cut off his poor excuse of a response. He shakes his head, his messy hair concealing his eyes as he tries to reply.
The look you’re sending him gives him goosebumps as if you’re reading him with just a glance. You are, and it’s terrifying yet so arousing that you can do so easily. Your eyes don’t leave him, trying to figure out his problems. It’s equally arousing how much you care for him, looking through him like he’s glass. 
His composure crashes, stuttering an answer you’re unable to pick up. You stare at him, confused at his sudden nervous behaviour. 
Leon’s selfish for wanting you all to himself. He doesn’t want to hurt himself with the rejection that you may throw his way. He doesn’t want to feel like that even though your actions say otherwise. He wants to tell you that, but what he says is much more pathetic.
“God, it’s you,” he repeats. The look of disappointment that crosses your face hurts. It hurt that he’s the one that made you look so broken so quickly.
“What?” Your voice falters, but you’re curious despite the ache in your chest. You’re not surprised. Maybe, a bit shattered.
“Not like that. I mean, fuck, I don’t know how to say this.” He awkwardly scratches the back of his neck as he tries to formulate his words, a blush dispersing on his pale cheeks. 
“I was fucking mad, okay? Not at you– never at you. I hated how those guys looked at you. I know I shouldn’t feel like this. You’re my roommate, for fucks sake, but–” He continues to ramble on, and the words he spews give you whiplash. 
You’re simultaneously flattered by his words and pissed. He was acting like a prick because he was jealous. As much as you were annoyed by his immature behaviour, you couldn’t ignore the butterflies swarming your stomach.
You impulsively crash your lips into his. He stops his rambling, startled, before melting into the kiss, his long lashes fluttering close. His plush lips move softly against yours. The kiss is soft and much better than either of you could’ve imagined.
Pulling away from him, you catch your breath, huffing, “You dumb boy.”
His cheeks darken in colour, the blush leading to the expanse of his chest. He grips your hips, tugging you closer to his body. You feel his dick hardening in confined in his boxers, pressed to your lower stomach.
“Fuck,” Leon gasps softly. You tuck strands of hair behind his ear, your nose bumping together as you admire his pretty face.
“All that from a little kissing?” you breathed against his bruised lips, your fingers toying with the waistline of his boxers. “You want me to help you, baby boy?”
“Yes, please.” 
You frown, moving away from his hold. His face falls, his brows furrow in confusion as he pouts. “C’mon, Leon. You really think you’re going to get to cum that easily after ignoring me?”
“‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to. Please touch me. I– I’ll be your good boy,” he pleads, moving back closer to you, wrapping his arms around your midsection. 
“Okay, sweetheart. You’ll get to cum if you behave.”
He captures your lips in a quick kiss, moaning softly before pulling away. He takes your hand, leading you into his bedroom, and you observe the new surroundings. Even though you’ve been roommates for nearly a year, you never saw the inside of his room. Posters of bands you weren’t familiar with were on the walls of his room. 
“On the bed, baby,” you coo, and Leon shuffles on the navy blue sheets of his bed, leaning against the headboard. You crawl onto the soft sheets, straddling him as you seat yourself on his plush thighs. His warm palms shoot to rest on your waist, softly squeezing them.
He tugs you closer to him, pressing your chest flat against his. Leon gasps softly, his nipples rubbing against the coarse fabric of your tank top.
“S’much better than I imagined,” he sighs, guiding your hips so your clothed cunt drags along his prominent bulge. He groans, feeling your cunt dripping, soaking through your panties and shorts. 
You move back from him, halting your movements on his hardening cock as you’re sat on his thighs once more. Your hands grip his arms, and even though he’s stronger than you, he ceases his motion. It’s so fucking hot how this huge man submits to you. 
“You’ve thought about me in your lap?” you tease, palming his erection through his boxers. The head leaks precum, staining the delicate fabric. “Playing with your pretty cock?”
“Mhm,” he whines softly, bucking his hips to your warm touch. His head tilts back, knocking the wooden headboard quietly as he writhes at your touch. 
“Ohh, you poor thing. Cummin’ in your hand wishing it was mine,” you mock, pulling Leon’s boxers down to reveal his throbbing dick flushed pink. It aches for your touch, twitching and smearing his precum on the dark curls on his happy trail.
“Fuck, yes.” Leon whimpers when you wrap your digits around his cock, squeezing it, oozing more precum, coating your fingers as you stroke him slowly. His hips eagerly thrust to meet your movement.
“So, so pretty.” The blush on his cheeks somehow deepens at your words. His head is spinning, and not just from your touch. He roughly grips his silken sheets, bunching them up. You thought he was pretty?
“God, baby, you’re the prettiest.” 
Fuck, had he said that out loud? 
His back arches as he nears his orgasm, pleasure rushing through his body. His thighs tremble as he spills his cum, coating your hand. You don’t stop tugging on his weeping cock, living for the little cries he makes from being overstimulated.
“Don’t, m’ sensitive– shit,” Leon whines, and you finally take your hand off his spent dick, admiring his cum dribbling onto your fingers. Leon props himself up, chest heaving as he tries to collect himself.
“Did I say you could cum?” you tease. Leon’s eyes widen for a second before pleading for forgiveness.
“I- I didn’t mean to. God, I’m so sorry. I’ll be your good boy.” He sniffles softly, and you take pity on his cries. You’ll punish him another time.
“It’s okay, honey. Can you open wide f’me?” you say. Leon does as he’s told, parting his lips and sticking his tongue out. You wished you could take a picture. 
You place your index and middle finger on his tongue, pressing down. Leon wraps his lips around your fingers, sucking his cum off them. Moaning softly, he peers up at you through his lashes and gags when you push your fingers further down.
“You’re such a slut, Leon,” you say, pulling your fingers out his mouth, lips slicked with his spit. You flicked his nipples, causing him to moan loudly. His cock is beginning to harden once more.
“I’m your slut.”
“Think you can go one more round, baby?” you asked, hovering over his rock-hard cock, before sinking down. Your drenched pussy through your thin shorts stimulates his overly sensitive dick, and he groans softly, squeezing your waist.
“Wanna take care of you too, angel,” he murmurs into your ear as you grind yourself onto his erection. “Can I eat you, please?”
“Maybe next time, honey.”
“Fuck, okay. Can you kiss me?” You press your lips to his softly, and he whimpers sweetly into your mouth. Pulling away from him, you take your shorts and panties off, and they’re fucking drenched. Leon tugs your tank top off, and you giggle at his eagerness.
Your body, so soft and warm, is pressed against Leon’s. It’s almost enough to make him cum, and he’s not enough inside you yet. You slide your dripping cunt along his shaft, ensuring he’s fully hard. Leon fucking whines each time the tip of his cock nicks your entrance, begging to plunge in.
Every time the tip nudges your clit, your cunt clenches, and each flutter sends his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
“Please, angel. Fuck me. Use me– I don’t care. ‘M all yours.” You guide his cock to your entrance before finally sinking down slowly. The tip enters you with a soft moan. He’s so fucking thick. Once fully sheathed in you, you grip his shoulders for support.
“You’re all mine to use, right? F- Fuck, you’re stretching me so good, Leon.”
Your tight walls hug him so tightly, and when you bounce on his cock, each drag of his sensitive dick adds to the building pressure in his tummy. He filled you so good, reaching spots you didn’t think were possible as you used him like your toy.
Leon thrusts his hips to meet your pace, your ass slapping his thighs, making obscene sounds. He can’t get enough of you. From your tits bouncing as you rode his cock, or the expression you hold when he hits that special spot. 
It’s so much better than he has imagined.
He rubs your clit with his thumb, a broken whimper leaving him when your gummy walls clench around him tightly. The pressure in his tummy was rising, and you were no better as he played with your clit.
“‘M so close, sweetheart. Can I cum in you, please?” he pleads, his hips stuttering to meet each of your moves. His pink lips parted, eyes barely stayed open, and he looked utterly ruined.
“Yes, baby.” You trail kisses along his neck, sucking marks along the column of his throat. You’re pleased with yourself that you’re the reason he has those marks now. Each bruise you suck on his flesh adds another butterfly to his tummy. He’s all yours now.
“Cum with me, please.”
After a few more thrusts, the pressure within him bursts he cums inside you, filling you with his warm seeds. You climax along with him. Your cunt spasms around his sensitive cock, gushing its arousal, clinging to his happy trail.
You collapse on top of him, your head falling on his shoulder. Leon kisses the top of your head, nuzzling into your hair. You try to get off to clean yourself and Leon up, but arms encircle your waist, preventing you from doing so.
“Stay with me, sweetheart. Don’t want you leaving.”
You comply, laying with him, your skin, sticky with sweat and cum, clings to his as you both enjoy each other’s embrace.
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targaryen-dynasty · 8 months
Text
PRECIOUS DELIGHTS.
Prev. Part | Next Part
Maegor Targaryen x pregnant!niece!Reader
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WORDS: 2.4 K
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest (uncle and niece), p in v, pregnancy sex, lactation kink (finally found the perfect plot to add this!!), size kink, breeding kink, soft Maegor Targaryen (yes, that's a warning lmao)
NOTES: You know I'll never let the chance of writing some uncle and niece Targcest slip. So, here it is. The bathtub scene is inspired by the one of Vizzy and Aemma. This is based on this request, and I bless my Maegor squat for planting this plot in my brain. @borikenlove @fairysluna @connorsui
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Moons had passed since the maesters informed your uncle-husband Maegor that you were with child, and thereafter, you were confined to your chambers. Three stillborn children were born to him before the announcement came, and thus, your husband was more than determined to not make it four. 
Several of your ladies-in-waiting tended to your every wish ever since, doting on you and keeping you satisfied and well cared for. So it seemed, at least. 
The handmaids could only do so much, but your body longed for something they couldn’t give you, for someone, despite your middle being heavily swollen carrying a pureblooded Targaryen offspring. With the end of your pregnancy creeping closer and closer, Maegor’s visits became rare, and the doors to your chambers opened scarcely to welcome anyone other than a maester or maid. Everytime you asked them to call for your husband, the same excuse followed: ‘he is meeting with the small council.’ 
When the doors to your chambers opened around the Hour of the Eel, and the clicking of the lock pulled you out of your slumber, you were ready to scold your maid Talisa for disturbing the quiet hours of your bath, but the approaching footsteps were eerily heavy and clearly didn’t belong to her. With how well protected your chambers were, main entrance and secret passageway alike, there was only one man they could belong to. 
“You spend more time in that bath than I do on the Throne,” his raspy voice rang out. 
You blinked a few times, raising a hand from below the warm water to rub your eyes, before Maegor’s paw came to rest upon your other one on the rim of the earthenware tub. “How would you know that?” you asked, your purple eyes meeting his own as he crouched down next to the tub. “You hardly visit me anymore.”
He dipped two of his thick fingers into the water, and couldn’t stop to trail his eyes over the curve of your breasts that slightly emerged from the opaque water. “It’s tepid,” he remarked, not paying any attention to your previous words. 
“The maester’s will not allow it any warmer,” you said, “and since this is the only place I can find comfort these days, I bow to their orders.”
“Don’t they know dragons prefer heat?” Maegor asked to which you just hummed. “After this miserable pregnancy, I wouldn’t be surprised if I hatched an actual dragon,” you said, looking to the side. The pregnancy itself wasn’t as miserable as you claimed, however, it was the dungeon you had found yourself in, not allowed to leave your chambers nor set one foot in front of the other for longer than a few moments. But not even that stopped you from hearing the castle’s rumors, and you knew the majority of the people around you blamed Maegor for the failed pregnancies of his other wives, yet Maegor had told you on more than one occasion that it was the doing of his third wife, Tyanna of the Tower. 
Maegor caressed your hair with his other hand, unusually tender, and a part of you begged to be with child even longer, because he had become a different man around you, less cold and rough, and it actually seemed he genuinely cared for you–if it wasn’t for you being locked up on his orders. 
He hadn’t retorted anything to your comment, merely fidgeting with your slender fingers and massaging the palm of your hand, before pressing a tender kiss to the back of it. “Please, let me out, Maegor. I want to walk the Keep,” you eventually whispered, wide, pleading eyes searching his for any sign of sympathy. “Have dozens of guards escort me on the walk, seven hells, escort me yourself, but you know better than to chain a dragon up.” 
You leaned toward your husband, clasping his large hand in both your small ones, and watched his brow furrow with what you could muster as uncertainty–something you hadn’t seen on his face before. Your chin rested on your joined hands, a soft ‘please’ leaving your lips. 
Maegor sighed, “you know I can’t do that.” 
“Birth is unpleasant enough as it is, so, why shall I prepare for it with a woeful pregnancy?”
Pity was written all over his features as he bowed his head closer to yours, and though you spotted it on his face for the first time, you loathed the sight. It made you feel weak, vulnerable and even worthless, knowing you had no say in anything that concerned your own body. 
“I can’t risk exposing you to any danger,” Maegor eventually confessed after a pregnant pause, “not if it means I could lose you or the boy, or both of you at once.” The boy. He had proclaimed the babe to be a boy very early into the pregnancy, and consistently pointed out that he had never been more certain of anything. In his dream, the boy wore the crown of his father, the Conqueror, and would wield his sword when he was older. But you knew nothing would cause the babe to grow a cock, if it didn’t already possess one. 
His forehead dipped against yours, and the proximity caused you both to close your eyes and release a deep sigh. You understood his reasoning, especially after he had lost three children and a wife before, which still didn’t mean you agreed to his methods of keeping you safe. 
Your arms wrapped around his thick neck, his heavy shoulders supporting them, and without having to say anything, Maegor knew what it was you wanted–or needed. His hands grabbed your upper body just under your armpits, effortlessly lifting you out of the bath with a tenderness that was borderline frightening. 
He was careful with your swollen bump, and immediately placed one hand on your arse and the other on the small of your back as you bound your legs around his waist. With your head resting against your upper arm, he pressed his lips to the side of your face, and carried you into the chambers to gently place you down on the bed.
There were rarely any moments you weren’t in the mood for him, but with the built up aching in your core, and his soft demeanor towards you, you were desperate. 
Maegor kneeled between your parted legs, one hand resting on your knee, while the other one ran over the swell of your stomach. Before the pregnancy, his paws covered your stomach in its entirety, yet, however, they seemed more fitting in comparison to it.
“Look at you,” his voice was reverential and raspy, and the purple of his eyes was almost non-existent, drinking in the sight of you lying bare in front of him. His hand trailed up to cup your heavy breast, teasing the darkened bud to the point a few droplets of milk leaked out of it. Your breasts were sensitive to the touch, and a pathetic moan left your lips, which grew in volume as the bull of a man leaned forward to lick over your teased bud, gathering the liquid with his tongue. 
You released a shaky breath at that, your mouth agape, and your eyes were wide. “I need you, husband,” the words a throaty whisper, and your own despair had you rutting your hips against the front of his breeches as far as your bump allowed you to. 
His lips had latched around your bud, suckling on it, and he let you rub yourself against him to a certain point, a large hand on your hip applying just a bit of pressure to keep your movements limited and shallow, barely giving you enough friction. It prompted you to whine in despair, despite the relief his mouth brought to your breast. 
“Gods, please, fuck me,” you whined, and Maegor slightly tilted his head to meet your eyes, the cocked eyebrow indicating that he was surprised by your choice of words, since you hadn’t used a term like that before. He pulled back from you with a lewd pop, licking his lips to collect every drop of your milk that had spilled past them. 
“You want my cock?” he teased, and started to pay attention to your other breast, dragging his tongue around the perky bud, before wrapping his lips around it to release some of the tension from you. 
Your hands disappeared into the short strands of his silver hair, and your back arched against his body, shoving your breasts into his face. “Yes, please,” you breathed, “give it to me.” One hand fisted his hair and the other cupped his face in a lousy attempt to push him off you, yet Maegor didn’t budge. How could he, with you using so little force?
Even though there was no urgency in any of his movements, Maegor merely reached between your bodies, as he kept his lips on your breast, to undo the laces in the front of his breeches and not undress any further, freeing his hard cock that stood to full attention. You blamed it on his inability to part from you, having been without you long enough already. 
When he withdrew his mouth from you, he pressed a fervent kiss to your lips that stood in stark contrast to his previous actions, though you welcomed it with a matching ferocity. 
“How could I ever resist you?” he asked, making you blush. “Not if you look like this, swollen with my child under your heart.” There was a possessiveness in his tone that alone had you moaning, and you bit your bottom lip as you looked at him with pleading eyes, nodding eagerly. 
Being soft and gentle was unlike Maegor, especially when it came to the pleasures of fucking, and watching him move his bulky frame to lie on his side right next to you, draping your leg over his hips as he angled them just so his cock prodded at your entrance made you feel appreciated. He saw you, and paid attention to anything other than himself, to your current state, because in any other setting, he would’ve flipped you onto your stomach, pounding you into oblivion without much preparation. 
The position allowed you to lie on your back, one leg raised without you having to do that much, without struggling to keep them up and parted. He was close to you, his massive size in comparison to yours allowing him to embrace you almost completely, one hand possessively placed on your bump while the other supported the back of your head. 
His cock breached your tight entrance, pushing in with little resistance thanks to your arousal. While you braced yourself for the stinging pain of the stretch, you fisted the bedcovers with one hand, and grabbed his waist with the other, his flexing muscles tensing and relaxing beneath your palm. 
Despite his carefulness, he was pushing into you all the way until his cock was enveloped by you like Dark Sister by its sheathing. You clenched around on him, and Maegor inhaled a sharp breath that didn’t go unnoticed by you, even though your heartbeat was pounding in your ears. 
“As soon as this boy is born,” Maegor rasped, drawing his hips back to the point only the tip stayed inside, shoving his cock right back into you, “I am going to fill you up again, breeding you, so you’re always round with my child.” His words were interspersed with grunts and groans, and he moved quick enough for your voice to catch in your throat. 
You clung to his waist, digging your nails into his flesh tight enough it would surely leave some bruises in the morrow despite him still wearing a tunic, but you didn’t care–not when he gave you the pleasurable pain you had waited for for so many moons. 
“You were made for me,” he grunted, “made to carry my children–to give me my heir.” 
Your back arched, and your hand released the covers to rest atop his on your belly, grasping his fingers and squeezing them tightly. “G–Gods, yes,” you hiccuped, your eyes closing for a moment. 
It was a race for completion, and Maegor seemed to have lost some of his initial inhibitions, pounding into you as fervently as the position allowed. He fisted the silver hair in the nape of your neck in a feeble attempt to keep his urges at bay, he mostly did, and as much as you wanted to whine and squirm away from the sting at the back of your head, you couldn’t–not when he was making you feel so good at the same time.
“I shall fuck you all day once the babe is born. You’ll be dripping with my seed,” he groaned. “Is that what you want?”
“Y-Yes, husband, yes, please!”
Your fingers clung to his thumb as his hand trailed down to the apex between your legs, his thick digits swirling around the bud that made you writhe beneath his touch. Not long after, you toppled over the edge of your peak, moans loud enough to let the whole Keep know how well your husband was tending to your needs escaping your throat. 
His precious, silver hair stuck to his forehead as he fucked you through your peak, until he reached his completion, too. When his cock spent itself inside of you, Maegor shuddered, the movements of his fingers seizing. “Good girl,” he growled through gritted teeth, “take everything I give you.”
Judging by how long his peak took its toll on your husband’s body, you were certain you would’ve been with his child after that–if you weren’t carrying his offspring already. It seemed that he hadn’t been indulging himself with his other wives for as long as you had. 
When both your breathing slowed down, and his cock had grown flaccid again, Maegor bent a bit closer toward you to lap up droplets of milk that had leaked out of your buds from the force of your peak. 
You gasped at that, still as sensitive as before, if not a bit more, and smoothed out his dampened hair. “Might you stay for a bit?” you asked almost shyly, as you were afraid to be rejected by him. 
Maegor looked up at you, the purple of his eyes reflecting in the dim light of the candles lit around you. “I will stay all night.”
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General Taglist: @watercolorskyy @nothingqueens @urmomsgirlfriend1
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kookielips · 1 month
Text
─ jeon jungkook (nsfw)
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soft dom!jungkook x sub!reader
gender / tags: sexual content without a real plot, established relationship, pussy eating, fingering, f penetration, unprotected sex, slight aftercare, slight mention of sweat and other bodily fluids.
word count : 771
notes: english is not my first language, please take this into consideration and overlook any mistakes. let me know what to improve/if you liked it <3
"just one more, hmm?" you felt his breath on your neck, his fingers caressing the purple marks on your thighs "can you do this for me, baby? can you take one more finger?" you nodded quickly, seeing him tilt his head to place kisses below your navel, a smile appearing on his face as he felt you shiver.
he skillfully moved your body so that your legs rested on his shoulders, he kissed the inside of your thighs before his lips took your clit and simultaneously inserted another long finger into your cunt. the cold metal of the lip piercing made you shiver, his movements were slow, torturously too slow, which only made the knot in your stomach grow, offering no real relief other than the small sensation of pleasure that only accumulated into more lust. every time you thrust your hips towards him and let out another needy moan he would laugh teasingly against your spot, the vibrations it sends through your body almost being too much at that moment. jungkook was in no rush when it came to you, he would truly spend hours teasing you just to get these little desperate reactions from you.
when he eventually settled into a rhythm that could send you over the edge, he pulled away, his lips left your core and he retracted the wet fingers that were poking your g-spot, only to, hovering over you, stretch them towards you "suck it" his authoritative tone contrasted with the man who was laughing softly at you as he ate you out little by little, this duality it still impressed you. you did what he asked without thinking twice, tasting yourself, running your tongue around his fingers slowly "that's it". he smiled, satisfied, as he took off his own clothes and positioned his already leaking cock at your entrance.
jungkook loved this moment, where your bodies came together, he felt so close to you and so loved that he could come with just that. thought. he enjoyed the short moments when he didn't move inside your hole as much as the moments he did, waiting for you to get used to it and relax around his length. he wanted to memorize everything, her face contorted in pleasure with the stretching of her pussy, her mouth slightly open, her breathing short, her nails digging into the sheet.
his hands slid down her body until they reached her breasts, he curled his hands around her around and gave it a light squeeze, getting a whimper from you. he skillfully played with your nipples between his fingers and began moving his hips against yours, fucking you expertly, the way he knew you liked it. he could be teasing when it came to foreplay, but he was relentless the moment he was inside you, chasing his own climax while doing his best to make you feel good too.
"oh, please!" the most pornographic noises left his mouth as he threw his head back, lost in the ecstasy you were making him feel, giving him a perfect view of his toned chest shining with sweat. he pulled her legs so they were better positioned around him, giving him a better angle to hit her. his tattooed hand grabbed your jaw and his thumb caressed your pink lips, a silent signal for you to open, that authority in your expression from earlier was visible now too. your eyes shone with lust as he pressed his thumb against your tongue gently, your eyebrows furrowed and you felt his dick twitch inside you.
his movements became more difficult, producing wet sounds that echoed through the room, his tip hitting your g-spot with each quick movement, that familiar feeling formed in his stomach. your vision became blurry and with a cry you came first, writhing in the sheets, your hands reaching for the headboard for stability. "i'm close" he came soon after, murmuring your name repeatedly, with last strong thrusts dumping his load inside you. he pulled away as soon as he regained consciousness just to watch, with his head half tilted and a satisfied expression, the mixture of fluids that stained the silk sheets as they left your cunt.
he sighed softly and left a lingering kiss on your forehead, his hands busy caressing your thighs. “you did so good for me, sweetheart, it was incredible” jungkook wrapped his arms around you, leaving kisses on your neck and the back of your head as he guided you to the bathroom for probably a second round.
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onlyswan · 7 months
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jk releasing 3d on my birthday has been the greatest bday gift ever. ITS BEEN ON REPLAY NONSTOP 😋😋😋😋😋😋🤞🤞
what do you think oc’s thoughts and reactions were when they first listened to it??😭😭😭i need to know, art
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summary: in which jungkook is crazy about you, and he sings songs about it.
> idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, suggestive / word count: 0.5k
> content/warnings: allusions to phone s*x and well… s*x, finally found the perfect time for oc piercing reveal :P
> in which masterlist!
note: BELATED HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LINA BELOVED 💕💕💕you’re a source of light in my life and i’m so grateful for your existence <3 i hope all your wishes come true <333 lol surprise. i got bored this morning so here’s a baby drabble for u 🫶🏼 (i did say i’m taking a break from writing in oct and it’s sept 30 today so…)
jungkook pauses 3D at the 3:20 mark before the song can start playing again on loop, and then he looks at you with an excited grin painted on his face.
“so, what do you think?!”
you remain quiet under the weight of his tattooed arm swung around your shoulders, fiddling with his fingers as you always do when you can’t seem to sit still. it’s a contrast to the wide-eyed gasps and bright giggles elicited from you when his sultry singing voice filled all the empty corners of your shared apartment.
“mhmm…? why is my baby quiet all of a sudden?” he chuckles, nose nudging your cheek before he plants a kiss on the soft flesh.
“you were thinking of me?”
your eyes finally meet, and the curious sparkle he sees in yours makes his heart uncontrollably race inside his ribcage.
damn, he’s whipped.
“uh-uh. are you serious?”
you feign innocence, eyes going wider, surprised at his reaction.
“oh, don’t act all cute!” he exclaims, leaning back to watch an amused smile gradually form on your lips. “who else calls me in the middle of rehearsals and whines because they’re feeling needy? at three in the morning! three! huh? tell me!”
“oh my god, shut up! when will you stop bringing that up?!” you lightly punch his thigh, ashamed of your shamelessness when your yearning for your boyfriend reaches an all-time high. now that you’re being spoiled rotten with physical affection, you can no longer fathom how you used to survive it before, being distant from him for months on end. “that’s more you!”
he blinks at you, contemplating for a moment as he combs through his collection of hazy memories. “you mean, during rehearsals or at three in the morning?”
you only raise an eyebrow in response, and the corners of his eyes crinkle as he bursts into a fit of giggles. uh-oh, this is what you must look like when you scold him for being frisky over the phone while you’re out in public, forcing you to bring the brightness of your phone all the way down or to hastily plug in your earphones.
the truth is he wants to kiss you more when you get a little mean, though he refuses to say it out loud because he knows that you won’t ever stop using it against him the same way you purposely wear red when you want to test his self-control.
“alright, so i’m crazy about you, and i even sing songs about it. sue me!”
you intertwine your fingers together, concealing a smile by planting a chaste kiss on the purple heart permanently inked on the back of his hand. “i’d rather touch you.”
at that, his hooded gaze travels down south where your crop top couldn’t reach, watching your stomach unsteadily rise and fall, and the butterfly-shaped jewelry that pierces your belly button seems to flutter its wings with every breath you take.
his teeth tugs at his bottom lip before his tongue sweeps over it, a cheeky smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“would you mind if i touch you first?”
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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andvys · 18 days
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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.
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Chapter twelve ⭐︎ When the curtains call the time, will we both go home alive?
Warnings: 18+ minors don't interact! angst, jealousy, misunderstandings, mutual pining, mentions of unrequited feelings, mentions of cheating (not on reader), mentions of past stancy, jealous!Steve, slightly mean!Steve (kinda?), smut smut smut, bathroom sex, car sex, fingering, squirting. I like to picture Jacob as Drew Starkey hehe
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: Steve had never handled his jealousy very well, but being jealous over you, brings out a new side in him. He would do anything to keep you, anything.
Word count: 17.4k+
Author's note: I've been waiting for this chapter since forever, jealous men are always my jam, and @hellfire--cult took these ideas to a whole new level, enjoy this filthy chapter. This one is for all my Steve girlies who haven't given up on me after my last story ♡ Roe, I should grant you a thousand wishes at this point, you keep me so hyped for this story. Also this chapter wouldn't have been this good without you, don't even try to fight me
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Nancy’s brows are furrowed in concentration, her pink lips pursed as she looks through the many dresses to find the perfect one, her curly hair is pulled up into a bun, held together by a white scrunchie with pink polka dots, she’s wearing one of the outfits she had gotten on your last shopping trip together, this is only your second time, but it’s fun, you like hanging out with her. 
You drove to Indianapolis since Hawkins doesn’t have all too many clothing stores, especially after the ‘fire’ at the mall, you prefer it here anyways, the big city has much more to offer than the small town. 
“What do you think of this one?” Nancy asks as she shows you the yellow sundress. 
You tilt your head, pressing your lips together as you eye it, not quite liking the way too bright color. You walk around the clothing rack to get to the other side, holding the clothing items that you threw over your forearm a little tighter as you take in the different colors of the dress she’s still holding up. 
“Mmm… No, maybe the blue one, Nancy?” You ask, as you point your finger at the baby blue color, when your eyes widen as you catch sight of the purple one, “or, the purple one! That one would look cute, it matches the color of your eyeshadow!” 
She smiles at you, nodding excitedly. She puts the yellow dress on the rack, and looks through the purple ones to find her size. 
“But you should go for the yellow one if you like it more.” 
She shakes her head, looking back at you, “no, I trust your judgment,” she smiles and picks out the dress, “besides, this color is way cuter.” 
You nod, a smile tugging at your lips, “yeah, it’ll look amazing on you.” 
Her dimples show and her eyes light up a little. 
Nancy has been nothing but kind and sweet to you, and you can’t help but feel guilt and regret growing inside of you for the way you once felt about her. 
You weren’t only jealous of her because she had Steve, you also hated her for having him, and you’d spent your shared classes with her, staring at her and comparing yourself to the girl he loved so dearly – the girl he still loves. You were never rude to her or mean, you never glared at her or threw comments at her the way other girls did, after Steve had humiliated her in front of the whole town, despite your feelings for him, you did feel disappointed for what he had done, even when you didn’t even like her, at that time. 
“You should try this one on!” Nancy pulls you out of your thoughts, a grin on her face as she holds up a black dress – a daring black dress. It’s short and flowy, the straps are thin, it’s  low cut with a dainty bow on the front, the back very exposed. “You could wear this one to Vickie’s party.”
A smile tugs at your lips, you step forward and slowly reach your hands out to take it from her. 
“You will look hot in it,” Nancy wiggles her eyebrows at you, nudging her shoulder against yours as she brushes past you to look for more dresses, “I’m sure I won’t be the only one who thinks that,” she says in a sing-song voice. 
Nancy had been very persistent in trying to get you to go on dates. The last time you went out together, the Barista at your local coffee shop had put his number on your takeaway cup after giving you the order for free. She tried to convince you to give him a call, gushing over how sweet he was to you and how he looked at you, and yeah, he was sweet, he was very good looking too, and maybe you would’ve given him a call if things were still the same they were months before this. Yeah, you would’ve definitely given him a call, but only to forget about the certain someone who woke up in your bed this morning. Whose bed you will go to sleep in tonight. 
As you stare at the dress, all that you can think about is Steve, and how he will react to seeing you in this. 
Will he think that you’re pretty? 
Will you look irresistible to him?
Will he want to tear it off of you? 
After all, he does like your dresses, your sundresses especially, you see the way his eyes darken whenever you step into his house with a new one on your body, like he is ready to rip it to shreds and devour you for the next few hours or so, and he usually does, sometimes he doesn’t even take it off, and only pushes it aside, bunching it around your waist.
This sundress is by far more revealing than any of the other ones you have worn before. Excitement bubbles in your stomach as you think of his reaction to it. 
You are definitely getting it. 
After taking forever to pick out what clothes to keep in the dressing room, you both make your way out of the store with full bags, stuffed with new summer clothes. You stroll around town for a while, looking for new jewelry and shoes to go with the dresses you both bought. 
You never realized just how much you missed having a girl friend to do these things with, until you sit down at a cute café to eat some late lunch. It’s something you always used to do with your childhood best friend, that you always try not to think of, too painful are the memories of Chrissy and how you couldn’t be there for her, how you couldn’t save her. You always wondered if things would have gone differently had you both not drifted apart the way you did when you both went separate ways.
But it’s no use to overthink about it, you won’t ever find out. 
“Funny how we’re shopping for clothes, when a few weeks back we were fighting for our lives against something the whole world doesn’t even know about,” Nancy says as she looks over the menu. 
“Yeah,” you nod with wide eyes, glancing up from your own menu to look at her, you realize that you never asked how she got involved in all of it, in the first place. 
You clear your throat, “I never asked… how did you get involved?” 
She raises her brows at your question, taking a deep breath before she puts down the menu. 
“I–It was when Barb went missing, right after Will… What the police said about her wasn’t right, I knew my Barb, so I looked into it all, and I dragged Jonathan in with me because he was looking for his brother, only to find out that my brother and all of his friends were in it too…” She rolls her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. 
You laugh a little, shaking your head. 
A shiver runs down your spine as you think of how long it had all been going on in the shadows, how long you had been unaware of the Upside Down and the existence of monsters, how children were involved in something they shouldn’t have been. 
“And then, poor Steve… He showed up at Jonathan’s place when we tried to lure in the Demogorgon, he almost ran off… but he came right back to fight him with us.” 
You know all about it, Steve told you how he fought the Demogorgon with Nancy and Jonathan, how he had been dragged into it all by accident, how he helped Dustin find Dart, how he protected the kids and climbed into the tunnel after getting beaten by Billy. 
You know most of what happened, not only from Steve, but also from Robin, but you feel intrigued, you want to know more… from her.
Something flashes in her eyes, a look of guilt, a look of regret. 
You know exactly what she’s thinking about, and you know that you shouldn’t bring this up, but your curiosity gets the best of you. 
“I-I was at Tina’s Halloween party.” 
Nancy winces at that, she doesn’t seem uncomfortable by your words, just… regretful of the memories that night brings her. 
You remember the night just as well as she does. Steve had bumped into you after he rushed out of the bathroom you didn’t even know he was in with Nancy, he glared at you and nudged your shoulder harshly, he rudely told you to move out of his way and murmured some incoherent curse word at you. 
You remember how deflected you felt, all night you had avoided him only to bump into him in his worst moment. 
Everyone knows what happened that night, not in full detail, but it doesn’t take a genius to find out what happened between King Steve and his girlfriend after he had stormed out of the house without her, and she left with Jonathan instead. 
Word traveled around, rumors circulated, but you didn’t listen to them, it wasn’t any of your business, and it wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened anyways. Just as Steve and Nancy’s relationship ended, she showed up to school, holding hands with Jonathan. Clearly, something happened between them long before her relationship with Steve had ended. 
Steve hated you, but your heart broke for him still. 
It was so very obvious how much he loved her, and you can imagine how much it hurt when she cheated on him, and left him and his heart in shambles. 
“I-I will never forgive myself for it. No matter if– he did forgive me. I was horrible to him, no amount of apologies can take away the guilt I will forever feel.”
“W-What happened?” You ask nervously, not wanting to overstep but still feeling the curiosity tugging harshly in your chest. 
She sighs, looking around the bustling street before her eyes move back to yours. 
“I-I always blamed him for what happened to Barb, I should’ve gone home with her that night, but I didn’t, even though I promised I would. I went with him, a-and the Demogorgon got her,” she explains, shaking her head a little as she closes her eyes, “it wasn’t Steve’s fault, not at all, but I-I blamed him and every time I looked at him, I just thought about her and what happened to her and how things would’ve gone differently if I didn’t leave her that night, if I didn��t went with Steve.” 
You dig your nails into your palms, swallowing harshly as you watch her. 
“He was good to me, he was there for me, b-but I couldn’t stand him sometimes, and how he tried to act like everything was normal, when it wasn’t.” 
The feeling of irritation sparks inside of your chest, crawling into your bloodstream. 
“And then, the Halloween party… I just, I was still grieving and I was angry, I let it all out on him, I should’ve handled things differently, I shouldn’t have been so harsh but… I-I called him bullshit,” she confesses to you, scrunching up her nose as she cringes at her own self, “and then I confessed my true feelings for him and our relationship.” 
You swallow the lump in your throat, the anger that you are holding back after those leave her mouth. Bullshit. 
How could she do that to him? 
How could she hurt him the way that she did? 
How could she call him that?  
You can tell that it takes a weight off her shoulders, that it’s something she hasn’t talked about since it happened, not to Robin, not even to Jonathan, because after these words leave her mouth, she takes a deep breath, and her body relaxes as she leans back in her seat. 
Her face is edged with shame, but also with relief to finally be able to let it out. 
And you try, you really try to hide your own feelings, the anger, the hurt that you feel for the man that you hold so dearly in your heart. 
You feel thankful for the waiter who interrupts your thoughts, he places the drinks that you ordered on the table, and reaches for his notepad, taking Nancy’s food order first. 
You take a sip of your iced tea and you watch her for a moment, reminding yourself of how long ago it was, how much she changed, how much he changed, how it’s none of your business, how you shouldn’t feel angry at her, even when she’s the one who hurt him, when she’s the one he still wants, despite what she did. 
He would take her back in a heartbeat if she came back to him, and the thought breaks your heart. 
But you can’t help but keep dancing around the topic, so after the waiter takes your order and leaves, you ask her something you’ve been wondering about for weeks now. 
“Do you… regret it? Do you sometimes wish that things between you went differently?” 
She leans her elbows on the table, placing the straw between her lips, she takes a sip of her drink before she leans back again. 
“The only thing I regret is how I led him on, I wish I could go back, and lay it all out on him in a different way… Explain to him why… I didn’t feel that for him, give him a reason instead of making him think that he’s damaged.” 
She cared about him, you can see it in her eyes, you can hear it in her voice. She cared, even if only poorly. 
“I see,” you nod, trying not to sigh. “And… well– when the whole thing with Vecna…” You pause as you feel the weight on your chest crushing you with nervousness. 
She tilts her head at you, “what?” 
Heat rushes to your cheeks, you lick your lips as you look around, watching the people in the busy street across the café for a moment, before you return your gaze to her. 
“Well… It was noticeable you know… and then… you two weren’t exactly quiet in the RV,” you mumble, trying not to sound bitter as the day catches up to you, what Steve had said to Nancy, how he looked at her, how she looked at him – and the rude things he said about you before the white picket fence conversation came up. 
Her eyes widen a little, cheeks blushing a deep red as she looks down sheepishly. 
You don’t know what you had expected, but you certainly didn’t wait for her to blush, it makes your stomach clench uncomfortably. 
“I–I was just hurt because of Jonathan. Feelings are cunning, evil… I was angry, and I think my heart and mind looked for where I could find comfort.” 
Oh, how ugly the feeling in your chest now is, how bitter the taste on your tongue is, how the sweetness of your drink does nothing to make it better, because you know, you know that you wouldn’t be sitting here now if Jonathan didn’t come back, you wouldn’t wake up in Steve’s bed or fall asleep in his arms. 
Because she would be the one.
You knit your brows together as you stare at her, “but Steve–”
“I know but… I think it was just a heat of the moment kind of thing.”
You physically have to restrain yourself from clenching your jaw or rolling your eyes. So, you look away for a moment, staring into a blank space as you try to calm your breathing. 
Heat of the moment. 
You want to scoff and laugh at her words, because telling your ex-girlfriend that you want to have six kids with her is totally, a heat of the moment kind of thing, right. 
You’re very well aware of the jealousy that is boiling inside of you, worsening every passing second, and yet, you can’t help but want to fuel the fire even more, and find out what she would’ve done if she needed more comfort. 
So when you look at her back, you ask, “so… if you were still hurt and Jonathan didn’t come back…?”
You see the way she freezes, the way she hesitates, the way she takes way too long to answer your question. 
“I-I don’t think that I would’ve been with Steve again… Even if my urges and desires told me to… That’s the only thing they were… desires or… attractions. I wouldn’t want to hurt him again and give him the idea that there’d be a chance for a future,” she sighs, shaking her head, “I’m not the one. I’m not the woman for the future of his.” 
You don’t know whether to feel sad for Steve or yourself. 
She is that woman. 
She is the one, the only one that he wants in that way, so why is she denying it? 
The question lingers in your mind and you can’t help but wonder, what would happen if she stopped denying it? If her feelings were more than just desire after all? If she came back to him? 
There is no doubt about what he would do. 
You’d be nothing but a faint memory the moment she’d come back. 
You’d no longer occupy her space in his bed. 
You’d no longer be the one he’d kiss, touch, feel. 
And you, you would step aside without a moment of hesitation, because despite your feelings for him, you would want him to be happy, and you know that he would never get that with you. 
“Besides, I don’t want to be. Steve was my first boyfriend, puppy love,” she chuckles. “It’s different with Jonathan, I want him in my future, a-and I’d honestly take any future with him,” she says, as a soft smile creeps on her face, “I didn’t love Steve but, I love him,” she says truthfully and honestly. 
She isn’t someone you have to worry about. 
She isn’t someone who will take your temporary space, at least not now, not anymore. 
But you still can’t find peace within you after this conversation, you can’t push aside the thoughts of him, of how much he still wants her, of how much he still loves her, of how much he wishes to be with her again, and it upsets you, even when it shouldn’t. 
So, when you come home, you throw your bags on the stairs and make your way into the kitchen, you pick up the telephone and you call him, coming up with some weak excuse as to why you can’t see him tonight. 
You want to see him, but you wouldn’t be able to control your feelings, you wouldn’t be able to hide the pain in your eyes. If Nancy wasn’t with Jonathan, she would be with Steve, and he would choose her, then and now. 
You heard the sigh on the other end, the disappointed ‘okay… bye, Blondie.’ before you hung up the phone abruptly. 
You want him, you want to be with him, you want to feel his touch, his hands on your skin, his lips on yours, and yet, you don’t at the same time, because right now, it would just hurt too much. 
You need to calm your anxious thoughts, or you will give yourself away completely. 
-
Two days. 
It’s been two whole days since Steve had last seen you, and both his mind and his body were going crazy over the lack of you. 
When you had called him on Wednesday evening, he was already waiting for you, giddy and excited for another night with you, but when you announced that you wouldn’t come, he felt deflected, a little crushed even, but he understood, you sounded tired and like you needed your rest, so he didn’t even try to convince you to let him come see you. 
But the next day, there was no trace of you either, you didn’t call, you didn’t visit him at work, you didn’t come over, and when he tried to call you, you didn’t pick up the phone, you also weren’t home, your car wasn’t in your driveway, you were gone. And it made him feel… weird. 
Because where were you? 
You had never done anything like this before, always eager and ready for him, but never this. 
He craved you so terribly, he wanted to see you, he wanted to hear your voice, to feel your touch, to feel your body beneath his. 
He longed for you, and two days away from you, only showed him just how much of a hold you have over him. 
The past two days went by so slowly, it was almost agonizing – just like the terrible music that blasts through Vickie’s house as more and more strangers make their way into her home, filling the empty spaces. 
With his back against the wall, Steve stands there with his arms crossed over his chest, a bored expression on his face as he nods along to Eddie’s rambling about some band he had never even heard the name of, occasionally putting on his meanest face to glare at the people who give Eddie dirty looks. He can’t stand them. 
He takes a sip of his coke, looking around the crowded room in search of you. 
He knows you’re here, but he has yet to see you. 
You came with Eddie, but while the latter instantly came to find him, you apparently left to find Robin, who he hasn’t seen in a while either. 
He has been here for at least two hours now, and he is beginning to grow restless, wanting to just push himself away from the wall and go find you. 
“--And I can’t wait to see them live, man! No more headbanging in my room,” Eddie laughs as he sips on his beer. “Judas Priest is sick! You gotta come with us, I’m sure Gareth won’t mind.” 
“Mmm.” Steve nods, glancing at Eddie with a plastered smile on his face, he feels a bit bad for not listening to him, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind, he continues talking.
Steve cranes his neck, looking into the kitchen, then into the hallway, and out into the backyard, trying to catch a glimpse of you, but all he sees are people he doesn’t care about. 
The music is starting to give him a headache, and the smell of liquor and weed is beginning to make him feel hazy. He's not drinking, he’s got other plans that hopefully won’t be canceled tonight but the more time passes, and there is still no trace of you, his hope is beginning to dwindle, because a part of him starts to believe that you are doing this on purpose, not showing yourself to him. 
Are you avoiding him? 
The thought makes his chest ache weirdly, a feeling that he can’t even describe floods through his veins. 
He doesn’t want you to avoid him, he doesn’t want you to stay away from him, he doesn’t want you to get bored of him. 
“I got Robin to listen to my mixtape, you’re next, I’m telling you, you’re gonna be a metalhead in no time,” Eddie chuckles, bumping his shoulder into his, he pulls Steve out of his thoughts. 
“Huh?” Steve furrows his brows at him before a forced laugh falls from his lips, “y-yeah, sure.”
Eddie snorts, knowing that he wasn’t listening to a single word he just said and still agreed. A smirk tugs at his lips, he tilts his head, “so, you’re gonna listen to it?” 
Steve nods, pursing his lips as he scratches the back of his neck. 
“Promise?” Eddie asks, almost cackling.
“Yeah, promise,” Steve shrugs. 
Eddie shakes his head, bringing his beer up to his lips, “you’re gonna regret that,” he murmurs against the glass before he takes a sip. 
Steve hates the music Eddie listens to, he’s hated every song he has shown him so far, but Eddie will take that promise in satisfaction, knowing that Steve never breaks any of his promises. 
Eddie takes a look around the room, recognizing a few people from school, some of whom have already graduated the year before. The guy by the snack table is the one who catches his attention the most, he squints his eyes as he takes a better look at him – tall, dark blond, lean, the gold ring that he always wore on his middle finger, still in place. Jacob Leeney. 
He hasn’t seen him since last year when Jacob was back from college for the weekend, the same weekend you made this guy lucky. 
He wants to make a joke to Steve about it, knowing that he hates the football captain’s guts, when from the corner of his eye, he notices how Steve stands up straighter. 
Every hope that began to dwindle, comes back in a rush when Steve sees you for the first time in two days. 
You walk into the room with a drink in your hand, a smile on your lips that grows brighter when your eyes lock with his. 
His own eyes light up at the sight of you, something in his chest swells with a feeling he grew unfamiliar to. His lips curl into a smile as he stares at your face for the longest time, before he lets his eyes roam your body, the exposed skin that isn’t covered by the pretty dress that you’re wearing, begging for his attention, begging to be marked up by his lips and to be touched by his hands.  
If only he could look into his own reflection to see just how awestruck he looks at the sight of you, how you lit up the whole room for him with your presence. If only he was focused on the beating of his heart or the fluttering in his stomach, the butterflies he thought were long gone, rising back up and filling him with life. 
Your skin is glowing beneath the dim fairy lights, your glossy lips that he craves to feel on his own, looking even more kissable than usual, and he already begins to count down the second until he can actually feel them. 
You start making your way over to him, the platform heels that you’re wearing making you look taller than you are. 
Steve licks his lips, having to fight the urge to just meet you halfway, throw you over his shoulder and get the hell out of here so he can have you all to himself. 
Your eyes are locked with his, a blush creeps up on your face and you grow flustered beneath his stare, a sheepish smile tugging at your lips as you raise your hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear – good, nothing changed in those two days. 
His excitement grows, the closer you get, he has nearly all forgotten about his friend next to him, about the other people in this room, but the reminder that it’s not just you and him in this room, catches up quickly, when the smile falls from your lips and your eyebrows furrow as a hand on your upper arm stops you, not enough to startle you, but enough to make you turn around in and look away from him. 
Steve’s own smile falls, and he straightens his back even more. 
He no longer sees your face, your expression or your reaction, but he sees him, Jacob Leeney. And the sight of him alone, is enough to turn the fire that you lit up inside of him, into raging flames. – And not because of the rivalry that was once between them, but because of what he had found out about you and the football captain not too long ago. 
Steve can’t hear what he’s saying to you, but the smile, the smirk on Jacob’s face makes his blood boil. The look in his eyes as he stares you down, making him clench his jaw. 
He pulls you into a hug, hand coming to rest between your shoulder blades, but not quite staying there, he moves it lower and lower until it rests dangerously low on your back as he hugs you for longer than necessary. 
“Damn,” Eddie mumbles from beside him, “Leeney’s about to get another best fuck of his life,” he chuckles, repeating the words that the jock had said to him months back. 
And it does little to calm Steve down. 
“I mean, unless they’ve seen each other this week before, I heard that he was back in town… a few days ago,” Eddie shrugs, watching him closely. 
He watches the way you take a step back, putting distance between you and Jacob after you pull away from the hug, but his hand lingers, not on your back anymore, but now on your elbow as he taps his fingers against your skin, talking to you with a look on his face that gives away his intentions. The sparkling in his eyes matches the one of his own, he wants you, he wants you badly. The interaction between you seems so… trusted, intimate. 
And then, Steve registers what Eddie had said to him, just now. 
A few days ago. 
Steve freezes. 
The cold shudder that runs through him, weakening the flames that just ignited. 
Is that why you canceled your plans with him?  
Is he the reason why you haven’t called? 
Did you stand him up for Jacob?
Were you with him? 
Did you let him kiss you? 
Did you let him touch you?
Did you forget all about him? 
He can’t decipher his own emotions at this very moment, too many are running through him, anger, frustrations… and a very ugly emotion that he won’t admit to feeling. 
He takes a deep breath, unable to hide the frown on his face as he watches you. 
Steve knew it, he knew that his own rule would come to haunt him, and he suddenly feels a deep regret for suggesting the inclusivity that allows you to see other people, he doesn’t want you to do that, he doesn’t want you to see other people, he wants to be the only one for you. 
He is watching you, so closely, so intensely, glaring at the touchy man in front of you, like he’s ready to light him up with his own eyes for putting his hands on places only he should be allowed to touch. 
Eddie slaps his shoulder, “I’ll be right back,” he announces before he scurries away from Steve who refuses to tear his eyes off of you.
He continues to watch you like a hawk, eyes not straying away from you and the man before you, and despite the intensity in his gaze, he is blind to your reactions, to the subtle, tiny steps you take to put distance between you and Jacob. All that Steve can see is the burning red that flashes in his eyes every time he touches you.
He sees the way your shoulders shake from laughter, the way you brush your hair back as you tilt your head up to look at him. 
And the more time passes as you stand across the room, spending time with someone who isn’t him, he begins to grow impatient, restless. 
You should be here, with him, by his side. 
And he wants to show you that the only one you need is him. So, without a second of hesitation, he slams his drink on the table, and he lets his feet carry him over to you, no longer wanting to stand there and watch how someone else might steal you away from him, he won’t let it happen. 
He let it happen with Nancy, he probably would’ve let it happen again if he was still with her, if this was her with Jonathan in front of him, he would’ve looked the other way, despite the aching in his chest.  
But you aren’t Nancy, and his feelings, his reactions, his action that he’s about to take, didn’t fully sink in yet. 
Once he is in earshot, Steve hears Jacob’s annoying, flirty voice. 
“You’re the prettiest girl at this party.” 
Your giggle follows, and it makes Steve’s skin crawl – if he wasn’t so driven by jealousy, and blinded by anger, he would’ve heard how fake it sounded.
“Oh, I don’t think so.” 
Jacob chuckles, opening his mouth to speak, to throw some lame pick up line at you, probably. 
But Steve doesn’t let him. Stepping up beside you, he places his hand on your back first, before he slides it down to your waist, gripping it tightly. The feeling of your body beneath his palm, your warmth and the way you melt into his touch after you turn and tilt your head to look at him, makes his stomach flutter pleasantly. 
You step closer to him, relaxing further when he squeezes you with his large hand, though your eyes are wide and your lips are parted as you stare at him. 
Right now, he can’t even find it in himself to care that your friends could see the intimacy between you and him, all he cares about is you and dragging you away so he can finally have you all to himself. 
“Can I talk to you?” He asks, calmly. 
Your wide eyes spark with curiosity as they look into his own, your glossy lips parting further for him as you come up with words, only to be cut off by Jacob.
“Oh hello, Harrington, long time no see!” The jock grins.
Steve clenches his jaw, but still turns to face him, biting back the distaste on his tongue, he nods at him, “yeah, yeah man, I’ll take her for a minute, okay?” He mumbles with squinted eyes and a fake smile on his lips as he points to you. 
Before the blond can even respond, Steve’s hand leaves your waist, and moves over to your wrist. He grabs your much smaller hand and holds it tightly, giving it a squeeze as he pulls you away and begins to walk, basically dragging you out of the room, and you don’t protest, you follow him, without a single word, slamming your drink on the counter on the way out.
You both walk into the crowded hallway, and he pulls you closer to him when you pass by a group of guys who are talking rather loudly. He pushes you towards the stairs, bringing your hand up a little as he gets behind you.
He doesn’t even bother to look out for your friends, they aren’t on his mind right now and he finds himself not caring about who could see you together. He also doesn’t care about one of his many rules that he is about to break when he pushes you into an empty bathroom. 
You switch the light on and let go of his hand when you walk in further. 
Steve turns around to close and lock the door, his fingers linger on the handle as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 
“What’s wrong, did something happen?” You ask. 
He opens his eyes again and turns around to face you, he raises his hand up, running it through his styled hair, he licks his lips as he lets his eyes roam your body for a second, taking a better look at the dress he hasn’t seen on you before, it must be new. 
The light that shines on you from the ceiling is golden, making your soft skin glow, making it look even more delicate, more desirable. Your chest rises up and down heavily, a worried expression etched in your beautiful features as you stare at him with furrowed brows. Your pouty lips parted. 
Can he blame Jacob for trying to go after you? Not really. 
“Nope, nothing happened,” he mumbles as he makes his way over to you. 
You shake your head a little, frowning, “then why–”
He practically lurches forward, cupping your cheeks, he leans down and presses his lips against yours, the way he wanted to, all night. 
You squeal in surprise, a noise that only fuels his lust even more, prompting him to deepen the kiss roughly. He can taste the sweetness of rum and pepsi on your lips, the strawberry from your gloss, he can taste you, he can smell the intoxicating scent of your perfume, he can feel your arms around his shoulders now as you start moving your lips against his, picking up the pace to match the speed of his own. 
He moans when your fingers get lost in his hair and your nails graze his scalp as you try to pull him closer against you. 
He licks your bottom lip, parting it with his tongue so he can slip it into your mouth. You let him. His palm slides down to your jaw, he holds it there for a moment as his other hand moves down to your hip, gripping it tightly as he presses you against the counter behind you, fingers now playing with the flimsy material of your sundress. 
A needy moan blesses his ears, the delicious sound rushing to his cock, making it stir in his pants that are now getting way too tight around his groin. 
You place your hand on the back of his neck as you place your other on his chest, pressing yourself further against him as you kiss him with whimpers and a neediness that he thought only he was feeling. 
God, he missed you.
But, did you miss him? 
Did your lips touch someone else’s when you weren’t with him, where you were supposed to be? 
The flames that are still raging inside of him, sparking a new kind of anger in him at the thought of it, it prompts him to do something that he has never done before – he bites your bottom lip, making you wince and moan at the pain. 
He pinches your chin between his fingers, pulling away from the kiss to look at you. 
With furrowed brows, you open your eyes to look at him, leaning back in to steal a kiss, but he keeps you in place, ignoring the whine that falls from your lips.
“Jacob Leeney, huh?” He mutters, instantly clenching his jaw after saying that name out loud. “Why did you talk to him, hm?”��
Steve moves his hand under your dress. 
“W-What?” You ask, shakily. “He was just talking to me about college.”
Right. That is the reason why he looked at you like he was ready to tear your dress off and devour you, right then and there. 
“Right,” he mumbles, gritting his teeth in anger. 
You stare at him with a frown on your face, tilting your head a little as you reach your hand up to wrap it around his wrist. And then, realization flashes in your eyes and your lips twitch a little. 
“You plan on fucking him tonight, Blondie?” He sneers, unable to hide the bitterness in his voice. 
You raise your eyebrows, pressing your lips together, he watches the way your throat bobs as you swallow. 
The silence between you is nearly deafening, he can feel your breath on his thumb as he still holds your chin, he waits for you to answer his question.
Your eyes crinkle, and your lips curl into a smile before you suddenly burst into giggles, making his irritation feel worse than before. 
Steve’s muscles tense up and he bites the insides of his cheeks, pressing his knee in between your thighs, he holds you tighter. 
“Why are you laughing, huh?” He asks, as he leans closer to you, cupping your jaw again, he tilts your head to the side, making your giggles die down the moment he latches his lips onto your neck. 
You suck in a sharp breath. 
“Mmm, nothing,” you murmur, “w-what if I am? What if I do plan on fucking him?” 
Steve has to hold back to growl, threatening to escape as he presses another rough kiss to your neck, his fingers now digging deeper into your hip. 
“Well, I have a little priority here, don’t you think?” He murmurs against your skin. 
“Wasn’t it you… the one who said no exclusivity, Steve?” 
His breath stopped for a moment, regret gnawing up in his throat like vile. He wants to back out of that rule… but you are not his, so he waters it down. 
“New rule then, Blondie,” he mumbles, not stopping with the kisses on your neck, “we leave with each other when we are at the same place. So, meaning today it’s me.” 
You furrow your eyebrows at his words, questions already lingering in your mind. 
You would always choose Steve. 
There is no one else you would go home with. 
And you can’t help but want him to know, but you don’t get to tell him because just as you open your mouth, Steve starts kissing your neck differently, intensely, roughly. He sucks on your neck, marking you up and blessing your delicate skin with hickeys as though he wants to show everyone that you’re his, that you belong to him. 
And you do, you do belong to him, but he doesn’t know it. 
He doesn’t know that your heart is his, that your mind and body is in his possession. 
He doesn’t know how crazy you go over his touches, how your heart flutters at every slightest touch of his, how weak and vulnerable you feel when he holds you, how no one else could ever come close to make you feel the things that he can make you feel. 
“How many drinks did you have, Blondie?” 
“J-Just half of the drink I left downstairs,” you say, tilting your head to the side to give him more access to your neck. 
“Just that?” He asks, “you’re not drunk, are you?” 
You shake your head quickly, “no, not at all.” 
“Good,” he nods. 
Your eyes flutter shut when you feel his fingers on your ruined panties, he pushes them aside and slips his long fingers through your folds, dipping them inside of you before he pulls them back out to tease your clit, digits now coated with your slick. 
You jerk a little, wrapping your arm around him so you can hold onto him, a needy moan escapes your mouth. 
You could have had this on Wednesday night, you could have had this last night, but you were too busy worrying about something that filled your heart with pain. 
“S-Steve!” 
He gets lost in his feelings, lost in the rage, in the possessiveness and the urge to show you that he should be the only one for you. His teeth graze your neck, his lips suck harshly on your skin as he spreads you open with two fingers. 
You mewl when he starts pumping them inside of you, in and out, deeply and slowly at first. 
“Who are you so wet for, huh?” He asks, pulling away just enough so he can look at the marks he left, appreciating the sight in front of him for a second, before he pulls your face towards him, gripping your chin tighter than before, his thumb now lingering on your bottom lip. “Tell me, Blondie” 
You open your eyes, revealing to him just how dark they are, how much lust lingers in them. 
“You, Stevie! Just you!” You whine needily before you wrap your lips around his thumb, catching him off guard, once again. You swirl your tongue around it, looking into his hazel eyes as you start sucking, you watch the way they widen and darken, the tension in his jaw now leaving as he is only focused on this, on you. 
“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath, picking up the pace of his fingers, he drags them out of you and slams them back in, nearly moaning himself when he listens to the squelching noises as he finger-fucks you, “just me?” 
Your jaw drops and you throw your head back, letting go of him to hold onto the edges of the counter, he has got you pressed against at. You nod quickly, “yes, yes! Just you, only you!” You ramble as you squeeze your eyes shut again, enjoying the feeling of his fingers inside of you. 
“Good.” 
Steve can feel how you clench around him, how you’re already so close even though he didn’t even get started yet. He leans in to peck your lips as he curls his fingers inside of you, and he presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing it slowly. 
He feels himself growing harder – the feeling of your tight, wet walls around his fingers being too much, along with the needy moans that keep falling from your pretty lips. 
He stares at you, watching the way your nipples poke through the thin material of your dress – of course, you’re not wearing a bra. You bite your lip, your brows are knit together, and your head falls to the side as you let yourself get lost in the feeling he provides you with. 
Not Jacob, definitely not Jacob. 
The jock could never make you feel this, he is so sure of it, and yet, Steve can’t shake the thoughts of you and him together. 
Would you be this wet for him too? 
Would you moan so prettily for him? 
Would you be so needy for him? 
The anger just won’t leave him, it refuses to, it has him in its tightest grip, urging him to prove something to you. 
His chest heaves up and down heavily, his darkened eyes are nearly black now. 
You’re close, he can feel that you are with the way you’re clenching around him, but he doesn’t let you cum like this tonight, so he pulls his fingers out of you. 
Your eyes shoot open and your lips part as you’re about to protest, pouting at him. He grabs your hips with both of his hands, turning you around abruptly, he bends you over the counter and presses himself against you, and he chuckles darkly when you gasp at his action. 
Steve reaches for the hem of your dress and he flips it over, exposing your ass to him and the lacy thong you’re wearing, he groans at the sight of it, unable to hold back, he rears his hand back before he smacks his large palm against your skin, slapping your ass harshly. 
Steve has never, never treated a girl roughly before, not any of his hookups, not Nancy, but then again, he never had this much fun with any of them. Letting go of his inhibitions, taking what he wants for once, and the fact that you let him, and even love it, makes him go feral.
But as the realization sinks in of what he had done, his eyes widen as fear rushes through him, worried that he had gone too far, but you ease his mind with the filthy whimper that sounds through the room as you press your ass against his dick, rubbing it against him as though you’re asking for more. 
He can’t help but chuckle, the shock and the fear vanishing just as quick as it came. 
“Oh, you like that, Blondie?” He asks as he presses his palm against your ass, this time not slapping it, but grabbing it roughly, making you whine again. “Of course you fucking do,” he murmurs as he lets go, only to smack you once more, making you gasp his name in pleasure. 
“Please!” 
He looks at your reflection in the mirror, needy eyes meeting his. 
“Please what?” He asks as he unbuckles his belt and pops the button of his jeans, he reaches for the condom in his back pocket – mentally thanking his needy self for placing one there before he left his house, in hopes that he would get this. 
“Please, fuck me!” 
He pushes his jeans and boxers down, just enough to free himself, not wasting any more time, he rips apart the foil and throws the empty packet on the ground, making quick work of rolling the condom over his length. With his chin against his chest, he looks down, stroking his dick for good measure, his spit curl falls in front of his eyes, but he doesn’t bother to push it out of the way, he looks up through hooded eyes, glancing at you through the mirror, he almost wants to chuckle at the desperation in your eyes, but it gets stuck in his throat when you push your ass back against his dick, whining. 
His stomach flutters seeing you so desperate for no one but him. 
He grabs your hip with his left hand, pressing himself against you, he teases both you and himself by slipping his shaft through your wet folds, he watches the way you look at him, begging for more with your eyes as you push yourself up a little. 
He presses his palm against your lower back, pushing you down so your chest is flush against the marble counter, he lines up with your entrance and pushes inside of you slowly. Waves of pleasure rush through him in an instant. You scrunch your face up, lips parting as a sigh escapes you.  
You throw your hand back, reaching for his forearm, you grab it tightly as you shut your eyes and drop your head a little, your hair falls in front of your face, hiding all your pretty features.
Steve looks down, watching his cock disappear into your weeping pussy. 
“You take me so well, holy shit,” he murmurs under his breath. And it was the truth, you take him like no other, making you the most addictive.
He sinks into you, deeper and deeper, stretching you out and splitting you open, the tension inside of him grows and his heartbeat increases. He pulls out again, watching the way the condom around him glistens with your slick – how he wishes that he could feel you without it. He slams back in, making you gasp and arch your back in pleasure. He starts thrusting, in and out, deeply and slowly at first, but with an intensity that makes you open your eyes again.
“Steve!” 
“That’s right,” He grunts, reaching his hand forward, he grabs your hair and tilts your head back up, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror as he moves his hips faster, quickening his pace until he’s pounding you. “Look at who’s fucking you right now, Blondie.” 
The loudest moan falls from your lips, and you instantly bring your hand up to cup your mouth, panic flashing in your lust filled eyes. Despite the loud music, you are scared that someone might hear you, and it only prompts him to fuck you harder and rougher against the counter, holding you tighter as heat spreads in his chest – who do you want to hide from? Your friends, or Jacob? 
But while Steve worries about something that isn’t even on your mind, you are so far gone, so lost in the pleasure that you feel because of him, your insides so sensitive already, yet aching for more. You focus on the way he thrusts in and out of you, how heavenly it feels to feel him inside of you, to feel him in your stomach. 
You are so drunk on him that there is not a single thought in your brain, only him. 
No one has ever done this to you, no one has ever made you feel so weak, so submissive, so lost in the heat of the moment, no one has ever taken such control – you wouldn’t have let them, only he can have this. 
Your eyes turn glassy, rolling back as you throw your head back, your weak hand falling from your face again. 
“Yeah, as if that asshole could fuck you like this,” he grunts, letting go of your hair and moving his hand forward to cup your cheeks, “say it. Say no one can fuck you like this, Blondie, because I know it’s true.”
Your walls clench and flutter around him, a cry leaving you as he pulls your ass up a little, slamming in and out of you, hitting the spot that makes tears fall from your eyes, making him even more aroused than before. 
“Only you, Steve!” You sob as a tear spills down your cheek and onto his thumb. 
Your knees buckle and your body begins to tremble, sobs and moans turn into needy whines and whimpers, your flustered face decorated with pretty tears making his muscles tense in his stomach. 
You try to keep quiet as you press your lips together, trying to breathe calmly through your nose despite the pounding in your chest, when he suddenly changes the pace again, pounding you so hard that he knocks you forward, hitting so deep inside of your squelching pussy, that you can’t help but cry out loudly as stars blur your vision. 
“Stevie, Stevie, Stevie!” 
Steve nearly busts, eyes widening at the way you chant his name so desperately. His hips stutter a little and he has to suck in a sharp breath, eyes shutting for a moment. He twitches inside of you, and it doesn’t help that you keep clenching. 
The sound of the music, of laughter and voices outside are so far away, the only thing you both hear are your moans and how wet you are as his skin slaps against yours. 
He slows down a little, enough to make you whine again, to make you move back against him, trying to fuck yourself on his cock. 
“F-Fuck,” Steve moans, he opens his eyes again, reaching forward, he grabs your shoulder and pulls you up and against his chest before he lets his hand travel down your stomach, he pushes your dress out of the way, and his fingers find their way to your clit. 
A high pitched moan echoes through the room, your body shakes harder and you grab his forearm tightly as he rubs circles on your sensitive nub. 
He presses his lips to your neck, moaning himself as the tension in his stomach grows bigger and bigger. He kisses your delicate skin, his mouth brushing the dark marks he left. 
You cling to him, nails grazing his skin, you press the side of your face against his, staining his cheek with your tears.
“I know, baby, I know.” 
If only he knew just how such a simple yet special word affects your heart, making it beat faster and harder in your chest, setting all your insides on fire and igniting something in you that throws you into a pit of love and glee. 
Steve had never called you this before, and you could only dream of such sweet nicknames, until now. 
Your eyes roll back again, eyelashes fluttering as you squeeze them shut completely, mouth ajar as filthy noises fall. You’d fall over if it wasn’t for his strong arms holding you up, his fingers moving so fastly on your clit, his dick so deep inside of you, his lips biting gently on your skin, all it takes is another rough thrust and your body begins to shake for a different reason, you fall apart for him, once again. 
You don’t even feel yourself drooling, you no longer feel the tears spilling down your cheeks. 
“Good girl,” he whispers into your ear, kissing the spot behind it before he grabs your chin and tilts your head to the side so he can press his lips against yours, pulling you into a soft kiss as he keeps fucking you, chasing his own high. 
Steve furrows his brows, his muffled moan vibrating against your lips as he gives one last powerful thrust and spills into the condom, secretly wishing that he could spill inside of you and paint your walls white instead. 
His body relaxes after the high it had been on for the past minutes, muscles loosening, but lips still moving gently against yours. 
Both yours and his moans die down after a moment, but you’re still panting, trying to catch your breaths as you pull away from one another. You open your eyes, and look into his, the blackness slowly fading away and you see the pretty hazel color again. His tongue licks his bottom lip, eyes flickering between your own and the marks he left on your neck. 
A lazy smile appears on your face and you feign confidence as you tilt your head to the side and reach your hand up to move the spit curl away from his forehead, the tips of your fingers brushing his skin, he holds you tighter in response. 
“I didn’t think you could get so jealous, Steve,” you whisper, ‘jokingly’ but most of all, painfully to yourself.
You’d hope that he was jealous, that all of this was the result of the burning red emotion, but why would he feel jealous over you? 
Just the presence of Jacob was enough to bruise Steve’s ego. That’s all that it was.
You know he never liked the jock, and the fact that he got his hands on you first, must’ve hit a nerve. But it has nothing to do with you. Steve is not jealous of who you sleep with, he doesn’t care. He is just bruised cause he felt threatened with an ex hook-up you had, afraid of them stealing you for tonight.
Steve huffs at your words, shaking his head at you. He pulls out of you with a hiss, cursing under his breath. 
“Well, did you think I’d let him steal you away from me…?” He asks, clearing his throat as he adds, “tonight?” 
And then he looks down, not wanting to show his face, to show how jealous he really is. 
He doesn’t need you to know that. 
He slips his hand between your thighs again, adjusting your panties and putting them back in place before he fixes your dress, pushing it back down over your ass. 
Your eyes soften at his action, heart fluttering in your chest. 
It’s not the first time he does this, he always takes care of you – he cleans you up, he helps you put a shirt on your body whenever you stay over, whenever you’re too weak to move. He is good to you, gentle and soft, and that is dangerous, because despite the thoughts in your head, the logical part that tells you the truth, his actions keep putting false hope into your heart. 
You grab the counter, and on shaky feet, you step closer and hold onto it tightly, watching as he fixes himself next, throwing the condom and the discarded foil into the trash, he tucks himself back into his pants and steps towards the counter beside you to wash his hands. 
His lips are stained with your lipstick, his hair is messy and his cheeks are flushed – he looks so cute like this. 
You tear your eyes away from him and finally look at your own reflection, your eyes widen and you gasp in shock – not at the mascara that runs down your face, the messy hair or just how puffy your lips are, no, this is not exactly an unusual sight to see, but the marks on your neck are, because they are so much bigger and darker than they usually are. 
You throw your hand up towards your neck and turn to face him, “what the fuck, Steve?” 
He winces, quickly drying his hands before he turns to face you, as well. Eying your hand that is covering the hickeys he left, your big eyes filled with panic. He can’t help but think you look cute like this, with your hair all messy and your lips curled into a pout. 
“H-How am I gonna hide–”
He grabs your face and pulls you into a soft kiss, just a quick peck, one that is enough to cut you off. 
“You think I’m done with you and we’re gonna go back to the party?” He chuckles, caressing your cheek as he pulls away from your puckered lips, “no, we’re leaving, Blondie.” 
You gulp at his words and squeeze your aching thighs together as excitement rises back up in you. 
“So, fix yourself and meet me downstairs,” he murmurs, placing another soft kiss to your lips before he pulls away. “I’ll wait by the front door.” 
He takes another look at your neck, hiding his satisfied smirk by turning around. He unlocks the door and opens it, leaving you alone in the bathroom as he makes his way downstairs to find Eddie or Robin, to announce that he will be driving home a very sick Blondie. 
While a smirk keeps playing on his lips, you are panicking in the bathroom, not knowing how to hide the marks he left, what lie to come up with this time if Eddie sees and asks questions again. 
You do your best to fix your hair, running your fingers through it and wiping away the mascara streaks on your cheeks, and the smudged lipstick, that you only now realize, is still on his lips, he didn’t even bother to wipe it away – what an idiot. 
You step back and take a look at your dress, smoothing it down and moving your hands back to your hair. The marks on your neck are so strong, so very visible, you’re not even sure if foundation and concealer will be able to hide this. A groan falls from your lips. 
You should do the same to him, he surely won’t fix it with makeup. 
You press your palm against your neck, testing out how it will look if you just go out like this. 
“This looks so stupid,” you mutter to yourself, rolling your eyes. 
You pray that you won’t run into any of your friends on the way out, all you have to do is make it downstairs and to the front door. You haven’t seen much of Eddie before, and Robin is too busy with Vickie anyways. 
You take a deep breath and then you step out of the bathroom and into the hallway. It’s not as crowded as it is downstairs, but there are still a few people you have to pass, as you awkwardly keep your hand on your neck, pretending to scratch it. 
You feel eyes on you, but you don’t bother to turn around to look at them, not even caring if they heard you and Steve – as long as your friends didn’t hear, you’re good. 
Your legs are shaky, and walking in your platform heels feels like a workout after Steve just railed you into oblivion, your stomach still flutters, yet feeling empty at the lack of him. 
You walk down the stairs, carefully. You hope that your knees won’t buckle. 
The party is still in full swing, some Billy Idol song blaring through the speakers as the living room is still filled with dancing people. Red solo cups are everywhere, empty bottles and cans litter the counters and tables – poor Vickie will regret throwing a party when she wakes up tomorrow morning. 
Your eyes fall on him, the smug look on his face making you huff in annoyance. Steve enjoys seeing you struggle after what he just did to you, he licks his lips as his eyes run up and down your body, they flash with amusement when they fall on your hand, you see the way his shoulders shake, he is chuckling at you as he plays with the car keys in his hand. Smug bastard. 
You roll your eyes at him, and turn away, looking around to see if any of your friends are around, but the only people you see are strangers and a few known faces from school, you sigh in relief, knowing that you won’t have to lie into Eddie’s or Robin’s face. You return your gaze to Steve whose face is suddenly no longer as smug as it was a few seconds ago, his eyes aren’t even on you anymore, but rather on someone behind you as he looks over your shoulder. 
Someone calls your name, someone who is the reason for the rage on Steve’s face that you had already seen before. 
You turn around when your name is being called again, to find Jacob walking towards you. Oh. 
You grow flustered knowing that the fucked out look on your face is so very obvious. You can’t even hide it. 
He catches up to you, and he reaches his hand out to place it on your upper arm, “hi, there you are,” he smiles, towering over you. He is tall, much taller than you, even taller than Steve. 
You greet him back, forcing a smile. 
He furrows his brows as his eyes scan your face, his smile falling a little, a frown appearing instead, “are you okay?” He asks, worriedly. “Do you feel sick?” 
You shake your head and open your mouth to speak when the words get stuck in your throat after his hand leaves your arm and comes to rest on your face instead, surprising you and angering Steve. 
“Do you need me to take you home?” He asks, caressing your cheek. 
You would have moved, but you are frozen in place as you stare at him, completely caught off guard by his action and the look in his eyes. 
“I-I…”
A different hand appears on your lower back, one that your body instantly recognizes, because your skin heats up and your chest blooms with warmth – it’s scary how well your body knows him. 
Steve pulls you into his side, wrapping his arm around you, “I got her, she’s in good hands, Leeney.” 
Sometimes you wish that he knew how you felt about him, how your heart nearly explodes every time he says something only a boyfriend should say – maybe then, he would take pity on you and your heart. 
You melt into his touch, the smell of his cologne is so intoxicating. 
Jacob retracts his hand, he looks between you and Steve, his shoulders slumping a little as he steps back, he looks down at you, nodding, “alright.” 
“Come on,” Steve murmurs, squeezing your waist as he begins to pull you away, wanting you away from the jock and towards the front door. 
“Bye Jacob–”
“Wait,” he rushes forward, and reaches for your hand, placing a folded note into your palm. “Here, I’m not making the same mistake again.” He gives your hand a squeeze and smiles at you, not waiting for your response, he steps away and takes another glance at Steve, before he turns around and leaves. 
You stare at the note in your hand, you don’t have to open it to know what’s written on the paper. 
You fail to notice the absolute rage in Steve’s eyes, how much more intense it is than before, how tense the muscles in his jaw are, how it takes everything in him not to slam you against the wall and kiss you in front of Jacob and everyone else. 
He pulls you out of the house without a single word, he grabs your hand instead as he leads you outside, he shuts the door and the sound of music and the many voices begin to fade away as you both make your way to his car, which he parked on the side of the road. 
Your heels click against the cobblestone, your hands hold tightly onto his, you’re quiet, and so is he, but a storm is raging in his mind, and everything he felt before, now feels so much worse. 
Can he keep you when there’s other people who want you just as much as he does? – And even, in different, much more intimate ways? 
He saw the way Jacob looked at you, he wasn’t only interested in another quick fuck, he wanted more, and it irritates Steve, it makes his stomach churn uncomfortably, it makes his heart clench in his chest – it shouldn’t, there is nothing more between you than this, and yet, he is scared to lose it, the little secret that you both have, he isn’t ready to let it go, he isn’t ready to let you go and watch you fall into someone else arms. 
He wants to keep you, and he will do everything to make it stay that way. 
He knows that there is only one way to show you that he is the only you will ever need. At least, for now.
He opens the passenger door and lets go of your hand so you can get inside, eying the note that is still in your other hand. He closes the door once you’re seated, and he makes his way around his BMW, when he gets inside as well, he notices the now unfolded note in your lap and the number that’s written on it. 
He grits his teeth but bites back his bitter words. 
You won’t call him, he will make sure of that. 
It’s not easy to focus on the drive when his mind is in such a whirlwind and his eyes keep glancing back at the note in your lap, that you folded back together again. 
You aren’t looking at it any longer, your eyes are focused on the road and the passing trees. 
“What do you plan to do with that number, Blondie?” He asks, unable to hold back and hide the jealousy this time. 
You narrow your eyes at him, taking a look at his hands, you see how hard he is gripping the steering wheel when you take in the sight of his knuckles. The veins in his hands nearly popped. You gulp as your eyes move along his arm, muscles that are hidden beneath the black sleeve of his shirt peeking out just a little, his cheeks are red, his jaw clenched. 
He is angry, but a part of you can see through your insecurities. 
It’s not only his ego that was bruised, it’s not only the anger that shines through, there is more, so much more. 
The jealousy that only you ever felt is lingering in his eyes. 
He is jealous. 
Steve is jealous over you. 
And there is really no reason for him to feel that way, but you can’t stop the rush of excitement and happiness that floods through your body. 
If he felt that way before he dragged you into the bathroom, over an innocent conversation, what will he do now that Jacob has made an entirely new move?
Will you get another taste of what he gave you before?
Will he call you baby again?
You’re stepping into a dangerous territory, you know it, but the thrill over it makes heat pool in your stomach. 
“I don’t know, Lego Head,” you shrug, trying to keep a straight face as you look at him, “maybe I’ll keep it… You know, for when you don’t answer your phone.” You lie as you pick the note back up. 
Steve huffs, shaking his head in disbelief. 
He rolls down the window, giving you no time to react, he snatches the note from your hand and wastes no second to throw it out onto the road, letting it get lost in the darkness. 
“Hey!” You gasp as your eyes widen. 
“Whoops, my hand slipped,” he flashes you an innocent smile as he closes the window again. 
“What if I want to call him!?”
Your question makes him grip the wheel even tighter, knuckles turning white. 
“You don’t need him,” he mumbles. 
You sit up straighter, raising your brows at him, “oh really? I don’t? Why’s that?” 
Steve can’t take it any longer, the feelings inside of him boiling over, controlling all his actions now. 
He pulls the car off the main road, and drives into the isolated wooded area that leads to a stream, a hidden part of Lovers Lake that he only ever came to when he needed to clear his head. 
He slams his foot on the brakes and turns off the car, turning off the lights and unbuckling the seatbelt, he turns to you in anger, “because you literally just said no one can fuck you like I can!” 
Your heart begins to race, goosebumps rise on your skin, and you press your palms against the leather seat beneath you. The giddiness inside of you is now so difficult to keep hidden. 
“Ah, so that should make you exclusive,” you smirk, tilting your head to the side, “okay, well, maybe he got better–”
You don’t even get to finish your sentence, you don’t get to taunt him anymore as he turns his back to you and gets out of the car, slamming the door shut and rounding the car to get to you, he rips open the door on your side. 
“You don’t learn, do you?” 
“W-What?” 
“Get out.” He demands, not nicely. 
You frown at him, watching his stance and how angry he looks at you. “What the fuck–”
“Get out,” he repeats, in a much calmer yet angrier voice. 
You shiver at his command, and you take a deep breath as you unfasten your seatbelt, your heels hit the grass as you get out of the car. Steve places his hand on your back and pushes you out of the way so he can close the door before he opens the one to the backseat. He glares into your eyes, “get in.” 
Your frown transforms into a look of complete confusion as you look between his hand and the seat that he points at. 
“You’re making me change seats?”
He steps closer to you, “get the fuck inside, right now.” 
The demanding, aggressive tone in his voice doesn’t make you question him again, you swallow harshly and turn around, you place your hands on the leather seats as you crawl inside, moaning in surprise when he smacks your ass again.
He chuckles darkly behind you, “you really like that huh?” 
You glare at him over your shoulder, earning another slap to your other cheek, making you jerk and whine. 
He chuckles again and follows you inside, closing the door behind him, “noted.” 
The leather beneath you is cold, and you grip it tightly, sucking in a sharp breath, and just as you go to turn around and sit down, Steve’s strong hands grab at your hips, flipping you over and manhandling you underneath his body as he forces you to lie down on your back. He pushes your thighs apart, settling in between them, he presses his palms flat against the seat on both sides of your head. 
A shiver runs down your spine, not from fear, but from excitement, because he probably didn’t want you to realize he was jealous, but he is showing you. He is clearly showing you and you can’t help but feel absolutely happy, accomplished. 
You know that you’re in for something when you look into his eyes – you can’t even find the right words to describe the emotions that are lingering in them, but they make your inside flutter so wildly, you feel the need to clench your thighs together as he looms over you, but you can’t, he doesn’t let you. 
His nose brushes against yours, his hair falls in front of his eyes as he inches closer to you, his breath kissing your skin. 
“Has anyone ever put you in your place, Blondie?” He asks as he drums his finger along your shoulder, hooking it around the strap of your dress. 
“W-What?” You stutter, hating how weak and shaky your voice sounds. 
“I’m taking that as a no.” 
Steve drags the strap down, and he leans down to press his lips against your shoulder, “I wanted to be nice, baby,” he murmurs against your skin, “wanted to take care of you, but fuck, you leave me no choice.” 
You squirm beneath him, digging your nails into the flesh of your legs as you furrow your brows at his words. 
His lips ghost over your collarbone, his hand now pushing your dress down a little, he exposes your chest to him, and he traces the outline of your breast before his fingers pinch your nipple, making you whine again. 
“Time for you to understand–” He murmurs as he plants a kiss to your jaw, “-- that I’m the only one you need.” 
His movements are soft, his touches are gentle but to your surprise, they don’t stay that way, after a few more kisses, he flips the bottom part of your dress over, bunching it around your waist, he hooks his finger around your panties and tears them off of you, throwing them over his back, not caring where they land. His fingers trace your legs, hands finding their way to your heels, he unfastens the straps around your ankles, and takes them off before he returns his attention to where you need him the most. 
He teases you with his fingers, torturing your clit and chuckling darkly at the whines that start filling the space around you. 
Steve had been intense and rough before, but one look into his face shows you that you will get more tonight, so much more. 
He splits you open with his fingers again, sinking them into your soaked hole, he fucks you with them, he taunts you with his words and sucks more marks onto your skin, littering the other side of your neck and your chest with hickeys. He makes you see stars with the way he curls his digits inside of you and rubs your clit. 
To your surprise and confusion, he doesn’t let you cum, he pulls his fingers out and stops touching you when you’re about to fall apart, just like he did before in the bathroom. Nothing like this ever happened before. 
You don’t think anything of it at first, not when he seems desperate to fill you up in a different way. He fumbles with his pants and pushes them down, along with his boxers. He rolls a condom over his length again, one of many he has in the glove compartment because sometimes you two don’t even reach a bed when seeing each other, rushing to do it just as he did earlier, your mouth waters at the sight of his leaking, red tip. 
“C’mere,” he murmurs, grabbing your waist and pulling your weakened body on top of him, you instantly reach for his shoulders, grabbing them tightly as he gives you no time to react before he makes you sink down on his cock – you don’t mind. You are so needy, so wet for him that your juices soak your inner thighs. 
But you need to feel his skin on yours, so you reach for the hem of his shirt, and pull it over his head, he leans forward as you rip it off of him. You throw it on the seat and wrap your arms around his naked shoulders, pressing yourself against his hairy chest.
You are the first to start moving, rolling your hips and riding him slowly, but he isn’t satisfied with that, he wants something else, he wants more. 
Steve makes you bounce on his dick, he holds your hips harshly and uses you as though you’re a fleshlight, filling you to the brim and slamming you up and down on his dick, fucking you rather disrespectfully. 
He makes you fall forward, as your eyes shut at the roughness and the intensity. He is buried so deep inside of you, you’re not sure if you have ever felt this before. Tears blur your vision again that night, moans turn into whimpers and whimpers into cries, the pleasure so strong, so overwhelming. 
You throw your hand against the fogged up window, slamming your palm against it, leaving a handprint there for him. 
No words escape you, not even his name, the only thing you can do is fall limply against his body and hide your face in the crook of his neck as drool starts coming out of your mouth but the moment it touches his skin, Steve grabs the back of your neck and pulls you back to him again, so he can see your face. 
“Does he even get to see you like this?” He grunts, fucking up into you and watching the way you squeeze your crying eyes shut. “Drooling? Crying? I bet I’m the only one you’ve ever been this cock drunk for… aren’t I?” 
You nod your head wildly, panting and gasping as pain and pleasure mix together. He thinks it’s just physical, but there is so much more to it. You knew you would turn into this for him and just him, you’ve always known.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
Steve lets go of your neck, making you fall back against him, he decides to tease you more by smacking your ass, causing you to jolt and whimper, filling him with satisfaction. 
He makes your pleasure the more unbearable, causing you to clench around him. 
And just like before, just as you’re so close to reaching your peak, he stops your movements all together, filling you with anger now, making you snap out of the haze he put you into. He stills and grabs you tightly, so you won’t move, he lifts you up and off his cock, biting back a groan. 
“W-What the fuck, Steve?” You cry out, “I-I was so close!” 
His eyes are nearly unrecognizable when he squeezes your cheeks together with one hand, forcing you to look at him. The angry sight in front of you, only makes you clench around him even harder. 
“You’re not cumming until I say so, Blondie.” It was stern, but Steve had a point to make, he needs to make it happen. 
You aren’t even aware of what is going on inside of his troubled mind, you could never even guess, not even when he flips you over and throws you down under him, placing your left leg over his shoulder. 
The position is quite cramping, but you forget about any kind of pain, when he sinks back inside of you and starts pounding into you with a force that makes the stars shine brighter and your heart race faster. 
Steve is not even focused on his pleasure, despite how good you feel around him, all that he can think about is your pleasure. He gives his all, he gives everything to kill any memory of what any of your other hookups did to you, of the pleasure they made you feel, of the pleasure he once made you feel. 
He snaps his hips into yours, fucking you so deeply and roughly, making his dick ache in pleasure. 
He surely never fucked anyone this way before. He never felt this angry before.
He watches you closely, the way your pussy flutters around his dick, the way you grip the leather beneath you, nearly ripping through it with your nails as tears of pleasure stream down your face and you tilt your head to the side with furrowed brows, your tits bouncing as he slams you back and forth on the seats. 
Your moans are so loud that anyone who were to pass by, would freak out and almost faint or call the cops. 
He is not even touching your clit, not even grazing it with his fingers, not giving it any pleasure again… yet. But he feels your fluttering walls, how tight you are getting around him, how high pitched your moans are getting – you are close, so close. 
And so is he, he keeps thrusting in and out of you, not tearing his eyes off of your beautiful face as he chases his own high, roughly and deeply. Your name falls from his lips, and his hips stutter as he finishes into the condom, groaning as your walls grip him tightly. 
Steve pulls out of you reluctantly, stopping your pleasure once again. 
He pulls your leg off his shoulder gently and places it back on the seat, giving it a squeeze.
His chest heaves up and down, he breathes heavily as he stares at you, biting back the chuckle when your eyes shoot open and a bewildered look crosses your face, the tears in your eyes still shining brightly as you raise yourself up on your elbows, frowning angrily at him. 
“You– I’m going to fucking kill you, Steve, it’s not fair!” Your bottom lip trembles, you are clearly very frustrated with him. 
He looks down to hide the amusement on his face, taking the condom off, he ties it up and throws it on the ground, making a mental note to throw it away later on. 
Steve tugs himself back into his boxers and pulls his pants up, not bothering with his belt just yet. 
He shakes his head at you when you squeeze your thighs together, hiding yourself from him. He hooks his hands around your knees, pulling you closer against him before he tears them apart again, exposing your glistening swollen pussy to him. 
He licks his lips as he hooks your leg around his hip, holding it there as brings his other hand back to your center, he bites down on his lip, looking at you with mischief in his eyes as he delivers a slap to your clit. 
“Wha– Steve!” You gasp in surprise and if he weren’t so determined, so centered on you, he would have been surprised by his action too. 
“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, using his pointer finger to tease your slit, he spreads your folds apart, and slips his middle finger and ring finger into your sopping pussy, he focuses on your face. 
Your angry features slowly relax again, mouth parting as he starts to move his fingers again, this time he does aim for your orgasm… and more. 
He moves slowly at first, rocking his fingers in and out of you, moaning himself at the noises he draws from your pussy. 
Despite the pleasure that you’re falling back into again, you grow flustered at the noises and raise your hands up to your face, covering it and hiding yourself from him, but your action only earns you another slap to your clit. 
“Uh uh,” Steve shakes his head at you, letting go of your leg, he reaches forward and grabs both of your wrists with one hand, dragging your hands away from your face, “don’t hide from me.”
“But–”
He curls his fingers into your g-spot, tearing a gasp from you. 
“No buts,” he grumbles, as he moves steadily, fingering your pussy roughly now. He angles his hand differently, the end of his palm now brushing against your aching clit every time he thrusts his fingers deeply into you. 
He shuts you up quickly, making every word, every sentence get caught in your throat. 
His left hand fondles your boobs, your waist, your stomach, your hip – he touches you everywhere, leaving every inch of your skin burning with desire. His fingertips dig deeply into your leg as he keeps you spread open, his thigh keeping your other leg from closing, as he abuses your cunt with his fingers that are much longer than your own. 
Your back arches in pleasure, your sensitive core crying for more. 
The feeling inside of you is different, new, but you aren’t surprised by it, he edged you three or four times tonight, tears of frustration fell from your eyes, those tears that are now caused by pleasure and sensitivity. 
Your whimpers are so erotic to him, just like the wetness he can hear as he is knuckles deep inside of you, stretching you open. He can see the goosebumps on your skin and the way your stomach tenses up, the way your breathing stutters. 
You are in bliss, he can see it on your face, there is not a single thought in that pretty head of yours. 
He leans down, pressing into you as he inches closer to your face, pecking your lips, “no one else can make you feel like this… no one.” He whispers against your lips, placing another kiss upon them before he moves to your marked up neck, ghosting over it and inching down to your chest, trailing kisses along the way to your boobs. He wraps his lips around your nipple, looking up at you, he begins to suck, adding more pleasure to your body. 
You belong to him. 
“Steve!” You whimper, throwing your hands into his hair, you let your fingers get lost in it. 
He moans against you, quickening the pace of his fingers, curling them even harder inside of you, making you shudder at the feeling, jolting even when he presses his thumb against your swollen clit. 
You tremble beneath him, the wave of pleasure being so strong that a sob falls from your lips, your fingers curling into his hair roughly, “fuck… baby,” you whine. 
A surprised whimper falls from his own lips, the nickname stopping every thought in his mind, for a second. 
Baby, Baby, Baby… 
No one has ever called him that, no one. The fact that you are the first, somehow makes it better, and he doesn’t even know why. 
The coil inside of you grows bigger and bigger, an unfamiliar feeling bubbles in your lower stomach, making drool form on your tongue and stars blur your vision. Your nerves feel as though they are on fire, your skin prickling as he fucks you roughly. 
“I-I’m so close,” you whimper and scrunch your face up as you move your hips a little, meeting his thrusts. 
He is so lost in you and your moans, he doesn’t even realize that he is biting, tugging on your nipple with his teeth until a new, higher moan escapes you. 
“O-Oh my god,” you whisper shakily as your eyes roll back, “S-Steve! That feels so good!” 
“Yeah?” He murmurs against you, lips returning to your neck, he pecks it a few times as he looks down, watching the way your thighs tremble, the way the muscles in your stomach tense so tightly and your chest rises up and down so much heavier than before, “your thighs are shaking so much… holy shit.” 
The pressure inside of you becomes so overwhelming, it feels a lot, it feels too much. 
“S-Steve,” you tremble, “t-that feels weird.” 
Your voice sounds so small, unsure, yet the moans won’t stop escaping you. 
“No, baby, you’re doing so good,” he whispers as he lets go of your leg, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, he wipes your tears and brushes your hair out of your face, pressing his thumb against your bottom lip, “just trust me… let go for me.” 
You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, not even when he starts peppering your face with kisses. 
The pleasure is too much, the pressure makes you panic slightly, but he doesn’t stop, if anything, he fucks you harder and faster with his fingers, keeping them curled inside of you, his palm keeps brushing your overstimulated clit. He is hoping to get what he has been seeking. You haven’t trembled this much before, and he is confident, he is so confident that you won’t forget this, that you won’t forget how he made you feel, that you won’t forget him. 
“C’mon,” he murmurs against your lips, “I know you want to.”
Your bottom lip shakes, the pressure threatening to explode inside of you, every inch of your body now burning and quivering. 
You let go of his hair and throw your hand down to wrap your fingers around his wrist, your eyes open, and you look at him through your blurry vision. 
Your moans and the squelching that gets louder and louder, sounds that are like music to his ears, making his stomach flutter and his dick twitch again – to his own surprise. 
“I-I can’t– too much, Steve!” You whine, nearing an edge you have never touched before, “I’m gonna–”
You never get to finish your sentence, because as Steve plunges his fingers in even deeper, and curls them harder. You can only throw your head back, a mix between a squeal and a whimper falling. 
Steve nearly stops all of his movements when you clench around his fingers like a vice. 
Your hips jerk upwards as liquids shoot out of you, and he gets to where he wanted. 
“H-Holy shit–”
Steve’s eyes widen, a chuckle of amusement and excitement leaving his lips, he stares at you in awe. Surprised at the tent in his pants, he is rock hard again. 
He keeps pounding his fingers in and out of you, not stopping his movements just yet. With a smirk, he leans down to kiss your cheek, cooing at you, “you’re such a good girl for me.” He says possessively. 
Your walls unclench around him, and he thinks it’s all, when you suddenly clench again, tighter than before, another shockwave rushes through your body, and you squirt even more, the leather beneath you becoming even wetter than before. 
Steve’s hand is drenched, up to his elbow, and so is the front of his jeans, his stomach and the window behind him. The evidence of how good he made you feel is all over his seats, filling him with pride. 
A satisfied smirk plays on his lips, he feels like he’s on top of the world, he feels like a fucking king again, knowing that he brought such pleasure to your body. 
He never even thought that this was possible, that this move in porn movies is nothing but a myth, but he had to try, he had to try it with you. It would have shamed him before to admit he had been watching more porn than usual just to do the things he sees with you, but now? He feels like he is the most intelligent person in the world.
Your body falls limp, whines and whimpers still filling the space around you, tears roll down your cheek as you’re trying to catch your breath. 
Steve pats your cheek, caressing it gently as he stares at you fondly, “hey, are you okay?” He whispers, unable to stop himself from pecking your lips. 
You nod weakly, still needing a moment to come down from the high. 
He keeps kissing you, playing with your hair as he caresses your skin, pulling his fingers out of you after a while, making you whine again. 
You open your eyes, struggling to keep them open after the intense orgasm you just had. You look into his eyes, they’re filled with victory. A proud smile playing on his lips. 
You raise your eyebrows when you notice the drops on the window, the wet seats, his soaked hands and the wetness beneath you. 
Heat rushes up to your cheeks, embarrassment rushes through you and you can’t help but gasp as you look around the mess that you made. Tears blur your vision, “o-oh my god!” You say weakly, shakily as you start crying, catching him off guard, “I-I’m so sorry, Steve!” 
You press your palms against the wet seats and push to sit up. 
Steve shakes his head at you, he cups your cheeks and shushes you by kissing your lips again, “fuck, Blondie, don’t cry – holy shit, that was so fucking hot,” he chuckles, “it’s just leather, sweetheart. And honestly, this feels like a fucking victory to me.”
You blink through your tears, looking at him with big and glassy eyes, your heart still pounds in your chest, shame swirling deeply in your chest. 
“Really?” 
He nearly faints at the look in your eyes. 
Who would’ve thought that Steve would ever get to see you like this or that he’d get to be the one to make you come undone so intensely? 
You are so vulnerable, right now. It tugs at his heartstrings, knowing that you struggle with emotions, that you hate showing weakness and tears – yet here you are, even if it’s only out of shame, it shows him that you trust him, even if only a little. 
You’re unaware of the fluttering in his chest that you cause, the warmth around his heart as he stares at you. He traces your cheek before he slips his hands down to your waist. 
You look so fucking cute. 
How can he not adore you when you look at him like this?
He gulps as he is completely aware of the way his heart feels. 
You’re going to be a problem, that’s for sure – but he can’t find it in himself to care, not now. 
He sits back and pulls you along with him, dragging you into his lap, he surprises you by wrapping his arms around your shaking, hot body. He pulls you into him so he can hug you, he cups the back of your head and makes you relax against his chest. He presses a kiss to your forehead, feeling the need to treat you gently, sweetly. 
Your breath hitches in your throat, his actions doing nothing to calm your racing heart.
It takes you a moment, but eventually, you calm down and close your eyes as you bury your face in his bare chest, his hair tickling your cheek a little. Steve runs his finger up and down your spine, making your heart race. 
Your body is aching, your legs are trembling, you nearly squeal when his crotch brushes against your center as you try to move closer to him.
“Wait,” he whispers, he grabs your waist again and changes your position, moving both of your legs over his thighs instead, so you don’t have to straddle him, and then, he pulls you back into his chest again. He brushes his fingers against your upper arm, stroking your skin softly, “is that better?” 
You nod. 
“Good,” he whispers, letting all his emotions guide him as he presses a kiss to your temple. 
“Y-You made me squirt,” you whisper, blushing. 
He chuckles, looking down at you and the way your cheek is pressed against his chest, “yeah Blondie, I made you squirt. I never did that in my life, you never did that in your life, we should put a memory plaque here.” 
Finally, a giggle falls from your lips, and you look up at him, amusement shining in your eyes. 
“I need a shower and sleep for like… three days straight.” 
Steve chuckles, squeezing you tighter, he finds himself liking the feeling of holding you this way, he can’t help but want to pull you closer. 
“I’m happy to provide all that for you,” he smiles down at you. 
Steve likes to see you in his clothes, he likes it when you take showers at his place and make his bathroom smell like your shampoo and your sweet body wash. 
He missed it last night. 
He clears his throat, his smile falling a bit, “why didn’t you uh… call me the past two days?” 
You hesitate, not wanting to show your face to him, you keep your head down. 
“Oh uh… I felt sick, nauseous, probably because of something I ate, maybe it was Eddie’s attempt at the homemade burrito…”
Steve’s mind was plagued with ugly thoughts after seeing you with Jacob, but this is beginning to ease his mind a little. 
“Wait so,” he blinks, sitting up straighter as he continues to look down at you, “you were home?” 
You nod, meeting his eyes, “where else would I be?”
It’s not exactly a lie, but it isn’t the whole truth either. You had an appointment in the morning, one that you had been nervously awaiting for weeks. 
The tension that remained leaves his body completely now, relief rushes through him, making him relax fully. 
“I thought… since Jacob was back–”
Your lips part in surprise as your eyes widen, before a smile appears on your lips. 
“Aw, is Stevie jealous and worried that someone is going to take his place?” You ask him, taunting him a little. 
Yeah, he actually is. 
But he can’t tell you that, can he? 
He pinches your ass with his fingers, a smirk tugging at his lips, “don’t get all bratty now, or I will show you how no one can replace me… again.” 
You’re a little taken aback by all the comments, by his actions today, by the softness of his touch, right now. He didn’t fight you on it. He just told you to not be bratty instead of telling you to stop thinking that way.
Today, he treated you as though you were his. 
He acted out of jealousy and was possessive over you, and in the end, he pulled you into his arms, treating you with such gentleness that it will surely leave a stain in your heart forever. 
This is dangerous, he is dangerous. 
He is giving you a glimpse of something that you will never have. 
He is showing you colors, you can’t ever see with anyone else. 
And maybe, this should be enough to make you run into safety, to protect your heart from the pain it will suffer when it’s all over. 
But in what world, would you ever run from him?
You know how this will end, but it won’t stop you from kissing his lips and letting him into you. 
He can break your heart and shatter your soul for all you care. 
It’s all his anyway. 
-
Eddie looked all over for you, the backyard, the kitchen, even the bathroom and the bedrooms, he was sick with worry as he searched for you. He got distracted when Robin forced him into a game of beer pong, with Argyle and Vickie, and lost sight of you. 
The girl ended up calming him down, when she told him that Steve took you home, you looked sick apparently. But Eddie knows better than that. 
He knows deep in his gut that his suspicions were right, that he wasn’t thinking into it too deeply. 
On his way out of Vickie’s house, he bumps into someone, turning around to apologize, he finds a very drunk Jacob, he raises his hands up, slurring out an apology, but then a confused frown appears on his face when he seems to recognize him. 
“Munson, you’re friends with her, right?” 
“Huh, with who?” Eddie mumbles, tilting his head. 
Jacob says your name and Eddie blinks a few times and slowly nods, “best friends actually, what of it?”
The tall jock smells like beer and weed mixed together as he steps closer, invading his space a little. 
“Well, I mean, is she dating Harrington or something?” Jacob asks, shaking his head. 
Eddie raises his eyebrows, curiosity sparking inside of him. 
“Um…” He could say no, he definitely could, but Jacob seems like a source of information right now, and he decides to use this opportunity to find out more, “what makes you think that?” 
“Well, the fact that this guy cockblocked me two times tonight is the main one. Tried flirting with her and he just pulled her away and even dared to glare at me as if I were the one interrupting his conversation, man." Jacob is slurring, rambling, and he just looks like a guy that lost the opportunity, not someone who would push you into a date or something. 
But Eddie is stunned by the revelation, so he pressed forward.
“Two times?”
“Yeah, the first one he took her somewhere as soon as I started talking to her, and the next he interrupted us so he could leave with her... Say sorry to Harrington for me, she didn't tell me she was dating him,” he mumbles, waving his hand as he rolls his eyes and steps.
Eddie’s gears work, trying to figure out a way to confirm all of this, but for now, the information is enough, his suspicions only growing with certainty. A small honest smile appears on his face and he pats Jacob on the shoulder.
“Thank you Leeney. I'll make sure to let Stevie know.” 
The blond nods and steps away, giving him a weak smile before he walks off, leaving Eddie by himself. 
His dark brown eyes flash with understanding and realization, a laugh of disbelief falling from his lips as he puts all the puzzle pieces together. 
He brings his hand up to his chin and shakes his head when he thinks of the marks on both yours and Steve’s skin. 
A scoff falls from Eddie’s lips. 
“Chandler and Heidi, right.” 
tagging friends and mutuals
@prettyboyeddiemunson @mysticmunson @taintedcigs @joekeerysmoles @ibellcipem @maroon-cardigan @sherrylyn628 @corrodedcorpses @munsonlore @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars
821 notes · View notes
gomzwrites · 11 months
Text
Being their sugar baby
Summary: A look into some moments if they are your sugar daddy(separately)
Pairing: John Price, Simon Ghost Riley with x civy gn!Reader
Tags: fluff, implied/light nsfw, you call them daddy, kissing, mdni(18+)
Note: gif are not mine, reader’s texts are in purple!, indented texts are memories
a/n: this is for you annon who wanted a sugar daddy cod thing <3 It took me a while to get this done and I'm still not 100% satisfied with it, the amount of self-control I needed to not make this into a full-blown smut fic- 
Anyways, this time I only wrote for Price and Ghost, I do have a few drafts for Soap and Gaz but I haven’t finished it yet cause my adhd ass cannot be decisive. I don't know if I will complete them or not since my uni starts tomorrow, so no promises!
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Captain John Price
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Hmmm absolutely not, you’re not going anywhere like that.
John clicks his tongue as he shakes his head and looks at the outfit you’re wearing with a disapproving look as you give him a pout. 
Daddy, we’ve been here for an hour already. 
You complain as you sigh and let the workers remove your clothes and frown as Price goes through another list of outfits, putting his finger up in the air as he gives you a smile.
Patience, sweetheart. I need to make sure you look just as good as I am at the party, hm? 
He says as he picks out another fancy clothe that is probably worth more than your car and orders the people around to dress you up again. You chuckle and roll your eyes as you do as you are told. Obediently dressing up as you glance at yourself in the mirror.
There you are, look at you…
He gives a proud smile as his beard shifts and walks slowly at you, you giggle as you give a spin and let him rake his eyes over your body, watching and observing you as if he is admiring a piece of art. 
Mmm, you like it?
He gives a nod as he rests his hands on your shoulders and gently adjusted the creased fabric slightly and glances at you through the mirror, always a perfectionist. A content look shows as he kisses your hair.
Always so perfect, sweetheart. Do you like it as well? 
He whispers into your ears as he runs his rough calloused hand around your waist and thigh, watching as your half-lidded eyes trace his motion from the reflection, he gives your ear a bite when you haven’t replied, already hazy when you take in a deep breath and stare yourself in the mirror.
You’re always confident with how you look with how much care and precision you put into yourself. Sticking a routine and maintaining your diet, and you thank yourself for having such discipline because that’s exactly how you even met John Price in the first place.
You give a few stretches and hum a tune as you feel how nicely the soft silk fabric adorns your body perfectly, no matter where you turn or pose it always displays your shape in the best way possible. You appreciate how he asks for your opinion still even though he makes the final decision, truthfully you’ll wear anything he wants you to because for one, it makes him happy and two, you can rock any outfit really.
Yes, I like it. Thank you, Daddy. 
He gives you a hush on your ear as he slightly runs his thumb across your exposed neck. This is nothing, no need to thank me. He whispers before tilting his head and turning back to the mirror again.
Hm, think you want a little something here? 
He gives a tap on your neck as you give him a nod.
He turns around with a hum and glances around the jewellery box he got you and picks one, you quickly place your hand on his as you shake your head, he raises his brow as he complies and lets you take out another shiny one instead, he gives a chuckle as he watches you wear it.
Out of so many of them, you always wear that one huh sweetheart? 
He says as he brushes your hair away and hooks his finger on the gold choker and examines it. It's the first of many pieces of jewellery he bought for you and it has since become your favourite. You’ll admit that the other necklaces with different gemstones and accessories would’ve fit your look better, but you also wear this one because it always reminded you the day you got it. 
Okay no way, you spent how much on this again?? You gesture at the beautiful gold choker, shining and twinkling brightly under the light as it hangs from Price’s hand. He gives a laugh as he ties it around your neck and ravishes the way it hugs around your pretty neck perfectly. Hush, if it looks good on you then it doesn’t matter. You give a frown and pout as he pokes your puffy cheek and smirks, turning your head to face the mirror again as you take a moment to examine it, you’ll have to agree that it does look pretty good as you run your hand along the cold metal, you’d expect it to be heavy but it’s pretty lightweight and it doesn't bite into your skin. 
Is it because you like the way you look with nothing but the choker on? 
He pulls you back out of your thoughts into the current time as he whispers with a dangerously low tone in your ear, causing you to blush as you tense up and recall the memory. He gives another chuckle as he bites your neck softly and nibbles it, causing you to whine as you push him away gently.
W-w-wait wait wait- the party-
Ah to hell with the party, need you now, need my sweetheart.
He rasps as he pulls the curtain and presses you onto the mirror with your back against him, feeling his palm going under the silk as he stares at you hungrily.  Are you going to be good for me then? He gives a devilish smirk as you quickly nod and arch your back for him.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Simon Ghost Riley
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You walk towards your kitchen as you hum out a tune and give a soft yawn as you turn on the sink handle to let the water run, lazily rubbing your eyes as you wait for the water to fill the pot.  
Angel… 
A second voice joins you as Ghost wrapped around your waist and nuzzles close into your neck.
Mmmm, good morning Daddy.
You reply with another yawn as you kiss his cheek which earns a satisfied hum from him as he presses light kisses around your neck, leaving trails of goosebumps as he pulls your body closer to his. Soft, gentle yet needy as always.
You have been in this arrangement with him for the past two years already, he’d pay for your bills and get you anything you wanted, while you would court him to dinners, being his plus one essentially. It started off as once or twice per week, then to three or four, then somewhere along the line though, he had chosen to visit you and just bask in your presence whenever he wanted in your apartment, well the apartment he bought for you that is.
It took a while to get used to him, you were even sceptical and scared out of your life when you first met him after a friend recommended him to you. You study his actions a lot, being on your best behaviour for him on the first few outings. Overtime, you come to realise a few things about him.
He doesn’t ask for much whenever he’s at your place, he just wants to have you close to him, he’ll pull you away from whatever you’re doing to sit on his lap, smiling whenever you protest or complain about how it distracts you from doing your chores. 
I can hire a maid for you to do it you know. Absolutely not, I don't trust them. Hm, I’ll find trustable ones... Then what am I going to do? Then you’ll give me all your attention, Angel. 
Whenever you’re with him outside, one of his hands must always be on you, be it your waist, hands, or neck. He’s never one to speak a lot, instead to answer you based on his actions. He is also incredibly observant, if you stare at one item just another second too long you’ll see it on your bed the next day. Thanks to him, you also forgot what it's like to stress over every single payment every day, he’d always pay your bills the moment you send him the receipts. You don’t question where or how he manages to carry things out with this efficiently, but you suspect it’s probably due to his job in the military. Well, you don’t know if he actually is working in one.
So are you like an admiral in the military or something?  You asked casually one day when you were sitting on his lap and feeding him strawberries, you can tell he glance at you from the corner of his eye as he slowly run his hand along your back and munch the fruit, to your surprise he actually responded to your question this time and not ignore it like he always does to any questions that are related to him. How did you come to that conclusion? You give a long hmmm and answer back as you gesture at his body. Well, you’re ridiculously big and tall, and you carry yourself highly anywhere you go. At first, I thought maybe it was just a confidence thing, but the way you walk, your gait…it follows a very specific rhythm. You also tend to have a much broader, stricter stance.  You paused before you glance back at his arm and ghost your finger cautiously, Aaaaaand your tattoo, quite interesting with the choices of pattern no? You say as you trail along the dog tags, guns and skulls, pausing as you rest your hand on one of the longer faint scars on his forearm. and I’m assuming these scars are not just from simple accidents.  He gives a low chuckle once he patiently listen and wait for you to finish your answer, feeling the vibration from his chest as you give a grin and tilt your head and watch him, he gives you a smirk as he run his finger along your cheek, Such a smart angel, hm? He whispered as he brings you in for a kiss, wrapping his palm around your neck as you give a shudder, you kiss him slowly before retracting as you wipe the string of saliva that connected from his lips to yours. So was I right? He only hummed as he kissed your ears and grabbed your thighs over for you to straddle his hip. You never got a confirmation or an answer, but you didn’t mind since he was clearly professional in throwing your questions out the window the moment he pulled your hips close to him and feel something hard pressing against you as a gasp escape your mouth-
The memory sends a shiver down your spine as you snap back to the present time.
Cold?
He mumbles when he stopped his hands, you realize he has been rubbing your bare hips under your hoodie for some time now as you felt the warm pad of his fingers pressing into your skin.
You shake your head as you turn around and face him,
Mm, just thinking…
You whisper back as you rest your hand on his chest, watching it rise and fall, he raised his eyebrow as he carries you with ease and puts you on the cold kitchen counter, watching the way your thigh bounce softly upon contact, he glance back up at you as he rest his chin on your chest.
What were you thinking about? 
He says with a smirk as you blush and giggle softly.
Thinking about you. 
You replied back as he tilt his head in amusement.
Issit now…. 
He gives a reply as he kisses your nose and gives you a coy smirk,
Thinking about how well your sugar daddy treats you? 
He whispers as he kisses your neck teasingly, making your cheek red as he flattens his tongue on your skin and swipes it in a circular motion.
M-mhm. 
You replied back with a shaky tone as he sucks on your soft skin, leaving a soft mark as he chuckles. He starts to slowly trail his hand up under your shirt as he leans in and mutters against your sensitive ear once more. 
My angel, always so good to me.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
a/n: am pushing my soft Ghost agenda with this one >:] and yes, if you noticed I always write Price to be a bit mean hehe. I don't know how to feel with this fic, do let me know what you think! Have a nice day/night :D
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marthawrites · 1 month
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Could you write smut for Aemond targaryen with the prompts 17,40,44,47,53 and 54 maybe with a targaryen reader? Just something gentle, sweet and soft <3 btw I’m talking abt this prompt list
I absolutely can! Apologies for making you wait since January for this. I hope you're still around to see (and, fingers crossed) enjoy it!
"Vok" (Perfect)
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Aemond Targaryen x sister reader
Word count: 2.6k+
About: You and Aemond pledged to each other long ago. Tonight, beneath the blanket of darkness, you revel in each other's adoration.
Includes: SMUT. Featuring brother x sister incest, Aemond is soft but only to his little sister, dirty talk, female masturbation, guided masturbation, praise, unprotected vaginal sex, and a splash of breeding kink
Note: Hello lovely reader! It's been a hot minute since I've wrote Aemond - the posters and trailers have me going (affectionately) insane! Triple warning: this fic is brother x sister targcest. If you do not like that KEEP ON SCROLLING. This is my first time writing this dynamic. Reader is implied to have silver hair, pale skin, and purple eyes. Everything else is up to you! As always, I hope you enjoy this fic! ❤️
-
To the realm, Aemond Targaryen was the cruel prince. Aloof, stoic, unforgiving.
To the realm, he was an ambitious and willful young man who rode Vhagar, the largest and oldest dragon in the world–the same dragon who helped Queen Visenya conquer Westeros.
To the realm, he was the second son of King Viserys. And, as such, would play the game of nobility by putting duty above love–marrying outside of his Targaryen lineage to seed dragons further into the world.
To you, his little sister and second daughter of King Viserys, he was your protector. 
Your secret.
A poorly kept secret in some corners of the castle; nosy servants and their obnoxious fucking tendencies. But, with Aemond’s less than idle threats about cutting the tongue out of anyone’s throat who would speak about it, it ended up being a well-kept secret.
The second son and second daughter of the Dragon King; who better to love, and cherish, and pledge to, than each other?
Aemond would sooner die than see you marry off to some lowly lord of a “great” House. You were the blood of Old Valyria. Everyone–no matter their feats–was lowly in comparison to you. And you, his sweet sister, deserved only the best.
Barely a year separated your ages. Neither of you remembered a life without the other.
Long before you gave your maidenhead to your brother you gave him your heart. And your heart he held.
-
The night was late. These dark hours were some of the only unadulterated times you had together. Aemond kissed you slowly, passionately, gently stroking along your cheeks with his thumbs as he did. You were tangled in his bed together. You, stripped down to only your shift, and him, stripped down to only his sleep trousers. One of your shift’s thin straps kept sliding down your shoulder, and each time it did Aemond’s warm mouth kissed over the smooth lovely skin. You panted soft sounds–each feminine simper jolting right to his cock–as he lavished you in affection. 
“You’re kissing me silly, lēkia (brother). My head feels full of bees and I’m hot. So, so hot,” you whispered against his kiss-swollen mouth. “Will you not feel for yourself?” He hadn’t yet made a move to touch you where you really, truly, wanted him; something that had you whining and pouting. While his hands alternated between stroking your face and groping your body–waist, hips, thighs–yours were buried in his hair. It was all down and free. The silken sheet of it spilled over his shoulders, spilled over you, and you relished the feel of it inside your hands. Against your bare skin. “Please?”
“Please what, hāedar? (little sister)” He asked, voice mellow with just the right amount of rumble from his chest.
“Please touch me,” you answered, back naturally arching to press your soft body against the hard planes of his own.
Another low sound came from him. He pressed a warm, wide palm up the perfect curve of your back until he squeezed into the nape of your hair. “Such a pretty word from a pretty mouth. Have my kisses made you ache with need, byka zaldrīzes (little dragon)?”
“Yes.” The single word, its single syllable, rolled off your tongue before your brain even fully registered his question. You stared at him desperately. One eye was so beautiful; so ancient in its color and proclamation, just like your own. The other reflected faceted edges of the sapphire he wore in place of his missing eye. You didn’t know which was more enchanting.
“How long can you go, hm? Without me touching you?”
“W-what?”
He laughed. A rumble beneath his pale, taut chest. “How long before you succumb to madness by me not touching your perfect cunny?”
“Aemond…,” you whined. Pitiful. “Not much longer! Please, lēkia, I need you, please.”
A serpent’s grin curved his mouth and darkened his eye as he shifted positions with you. Now, he sat upright with his back against his headboard and pulled you to sit in front of him. 
You nestled between his legs, your back flush with his chest, and his stiff cock rested against the small of your back. A blush bloomed beneath your cheeks. You knew lust ran as wild in his veins as it did in yours.
“Tell me, sweet sister…,” he started, whispering by your ear. Both his hands cupped and squeezed over your breasts. Their softness melted against his palms and he groaned at the sensation. Perfect. You were so fucking perfect. “Have you touched yourself to peak before?”
A stammer replaced the little mewl in your throat. “H-how do you mean?”
He laughed again, pinching your nipples. “Mm… are you sure?”
Lust and need and fire roared in your blood to the point of almost drowning everything else out. “I d-don’t understand,” you admitted. But, it was a lie. You knew what he meant. You could only hope he’d go easy on you so you wouldn't have to admit, prove, or say you knew what he spoke of.
“Why are you playing shy with me, hāedar? I think you know exactly what I mean. There is no shame in it,” he spoke sly, hands pushing the hem of your shift up until he held the material in a fist upon your abdomen. With his other hand he tugged your smallclothes down your bare legs, tossing them off. The flats of all his fingers ghosted over your exposed cunt. Testing you. Feeling you. He hissed an inward breath. “Fuck–”, he growled. “‘Tis a good thing I was born a prince. Gods know if I had this wet little cunt between my thighs I wouldn’t get anything done. Ever. For how often I’d fuck myself silly on my own fingers.”
Aemond’s vulgarity sent a coil of tension wringing in your belly. Slick arousal pooled hotter beneath his touch. Your clit throbbed–the little pearl silently screaming for attention. “Yes,” you breathed, shuddering.
“Yes, what?”
Your older brother wasn’t going easy on you. “Yes. I… I know what you speak of. And.. yes, I do. Sometimes…,” you admitted with a wave of embarrassment.
Somehow he grew harder against the small of your back. He throbbed. “Show me,” he demanded.
“What! Aemond, no. Please, please, please no. Don’t make me show you.” Mortification replaced your previous embarrassment. Yet, your spine quivered with another rush of liquid arousal.
“I would love nothing more than to see how you bring yourself pleasure. Do you think of me when you do, byka zaldrīzes?”
You nodded. Dizziness warbled your brain. 
“Such a sweet perfect thing,” he cooed. He'd felt that nervous energy tense you. He also saw the exquisite thrum of your pulsepoint beneath your neck, too. Two sides of the same coin: carnal desire. When he spoke again it dripped with wicked passion. “Don’t be nervous, I'll guide you through it.”
It had been quite some time since you last brought yourself to climax all on your own. Aemond was always more than eager to give you pleasure. Tonight, however, something was different. Idly you wondered what it could be. Before you thought about it too much, Aemond guided your dominant hand to that delicate space between your thighs. You gasped at the sensation of your own touch. Torture never felt so divine. Your little bud sang as you circled it, rubbed over it. You sighed sweetly. “How did you make me so wet?”
It took controlled effort to not spill himself across your back at that very moment. “Spread your legs for me, princess. Let me see and hear what you’re doing.”
You obeyed. With your legs spread wider, now, it was all the easier to resume your previous motions. Flicking and rubbing over your bud felt divine–excited little sounds already spilled from your mouth. You ached inside, too, wanting–needing–to be stretched around something. The memory of Aemond's long fingers pumping into you while his thumb claimed your clit had your face hot. You couldn't reach those same spots he could. You bit your bottom lip, whimpering.
Aemond watched from above with a hungry lecherous eye. Beneath your shift he could see your breasts, slope of belly… and then further below, your creamy thighs spilled wide open. Fuck–he was so hard his back hurt. Your girlish sounds sent his desire blazing. “Your little clit is so achy, isn’t it? I know how much you like it played with,” he said by your ear. “Do you ever go inside?”
You nodded, allowing your head to fall back against his shoulder. You stayed on your pearl, still, legs tensing with bliss as it warmed and tingled your blood.
“Show me,” he growled again. “Be a good girl. And afterward? Don’t worry, I'll take care of you. Promise.” 
Without hesitation you pushed two of your fingers into your warmth. Your body squeezed around the intrusion, inner walls flexing, trying to pull them in deeper. A gasped moan left your parted lips. “I-I’ve never done this before.” You’ve never shown anyone this before is what you meant. Aemond knew what you meant.
“I know. Shh… it’s okay, I'll guide you through it.” He gently touched the top of your hand and relished your little tendons flexing with the effort of your self pleasure. He pushed–coaxing your fingers deeper, silently urging you along. More. 
Soon the wet sounds of your hand against pink swollen flesh mingled with your moans. Lewd. Dirty. You tried to stay quiet. You really did. But it felt too good, and Aemond’s hand on yours guiding you along had your toes curling. Of course he would help you. Of course he wouldn’t let you do it all on your own. “Aem..!,” you whimpered, hips rocking with your movements. “‘M close.”
“I got you,” he whispered, voice heavy.
As soon as your fingers found that little patch of hidden nerves along your walls, you weren’t able to hold on much longer. The bliss, all at once, became too much. Tension snapped in your belly as colors flashed behind your closed eyelids. Your legs trembled at the tip of your peak, and as you crested downwards Aemond held you tighter against him.
“Vok (perfect),” he said as he watched you. How perfect you were with your silver hair framing your face. How perfect you looked when ecstasy became too much. How fucking perfect your eyes were as they opened and locked on his, bright and glassy with excitement. 
You carefully pulled your fingers free and began to turn around to face him. Before you could, however, he held you tighter against him. Confusion furrowed your brow and whatever you were about to say was cut off by his impatience.
“I’m greedy, byka zaldrīzes. Go on, one more time. I know you can do it. Show me again how you peak.”
Without arguing you again settled back against him. You planted your feet along the outside of his legs, spilling your thighs open wider than they were before. You angled your hips to the perfect position and this time a third finger joined your previous two. This time you fucked yourself without shame–not that you held on to it long in the first place.
Aemond all but snarled behind you, absolutely ravenous at the sight of three of your little fingers pumping and curling up into your body. He moved a hand downward, too, and the pads of those fingers worked over your clit in time with your pumps.
“Gods! Aem–!” You quivered against him. The addition of his lascivious attention had your hips squirming. Wanton moans, no longer trying to stay quiet, had your mind blanking. Nothing existed outside of you and Aemond. Nowhere existed outside of the spaces in which your bodies touched. Climax found you faster this time. Your second orgasm had you crumbling against him. Sweat sheened your brow. Your face bloomed. Sated. You were wholly sated.
“Good girl,” he praised. “Such a good girl. Giving me exactly what I wanted,” he kissed you, stealing your lips in a kiss that had you floating all over again. You could have fallen asleep right there in his arms and been the happiest thing in the realm. Breaking away, he added, “now I’ve a promise to make up to you, hm?”
Honestly, you’d forgotten about it. But, now that he mentioned it, your belly did a silly little flop.
With great care, Aemond moved from behind you and stood. Offering a hand to you, he said, “take your clothes off and lay on your back.”
And with that, you both finally shed the last pieces of your clothing. 
Laying like he said, you leaned back on your elbows to prop yourself up to still see your brother. Spilled messy hair, tall lean body littered with nicked scars, sapphire eye on full display…hard cock blushed angry red with need. They say Targaryen’s are closer to Gods than men, and with the hearth’s orange light reflecting on his ivory form, you believed him to be a God.
Aemond thought the same about you as you laid there bathed in the moonlight and hearthlight. 
“Spread your legs for your lēkia, I want to see you.”
As soon as you did–proudly showing off the slick mess of two climaxes, Aemond pumped along his rigid length. Despite butterflies twirling in your belly, your smile up at him was purely feline.
To Aemond’s credit, his voice only broke slightly when he said, “get on your hands and knees.”
You did. You dipped your spine as low as it could comfortably go, propping your ass up for him. As much as he loved fucking you with your legs wrapped around his waist, you knew he loved this position, too. “Māzigon va, lēkia (come on, brother),” you purred. “Keep to your promise.”
In an instant one of his hands squeezed harshly into the fat of your hip while the other spread the meat of your ass apart. He planted one foot firmly on the bed, and the other stayed rooted on the ground. The position gave him more leverage, and power, and control as he loomed above you. With a flex of his entire abdomen he pushed forward; the hot stretch of your body around him had both of you gasping. “I plan on leaving a babe in your belly tonight, hāedar. That way mother will have no other choice than to wed us,” he groaned, pulling backwards only to snap his hips against the smooth underside of your cheeks once again. And again.
You fisted the sheets as Aemond fucked you. You moaned your delight at his words, nodding. “Yes, please,” you panted. “Faster,” you begged.
His thrusts were precise and brutal. The slap of your smacking skin was utterly depraved and you hated–no, loved–how it made you impossibly wetter. Aemond did too. “Already squeezing around me? Fuck–I’m not going to last much longer,” he said, strained.
You began to push back against him, meeting his thrusts halfway with a frenzied need to make him release. “Fill me. Fill me up, Aem,” you still begged, breathing heavily. 
He rutted against you with the same need–a primal haze taking over as his stones began to tighten. His fingers dented firmly into your flesh as he continued plunging in and out of you. Instinct to spill his seed built by the moment and soon he became sloppy. He grunted and growled, and with a final shove–cock buried as deep as it could be inside your walls–he spent against your body’s end. Pulse after mighty pulse emptied his spend into you. Stray strands of hair stuck to a sheen of sweat upon his forehead.
You joined him in peak; left boneless and exhausted after three orgasms. Even at the top of your bliss, and his, he never eased until you were both done.
Aemond pulled his softening length out from you and urged you to fall forward upon his bed. You followed his motion and happily laid there. Naked, glowing, and full. You reached a hand out to pull him to you. “Avy jorrāelan (i love you).”
Aemond easily settled next to you, scooping you into him. “Avy jorrāelan tolī (i love you too),” he said between slow, satisfied kisses.
-
Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥
To be added or removed from the taglist, hit me up!
Masterlist
Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @barbiedragon @targaryen-dynasty @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @schniiipsel
Aemond taglist: @darylandbethfanforever9 @bellaisasleep @aemondsblog @khaleesihel @sirenofavalon @doublesparrows @aemonds-fire @nikstrange @abbyandizzysmum @rafeism @lost-and-founds @castellomargot @avidreader73 @snh96 @boofy1998 @connorsui
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violetrainbow412-blog · 4 months
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hii, I wish to request a Willy Wonka x reader 😭🙏 where reader doesn’t like chocolate at all because it’s too cloying, so Wonka tries to make the right candy (or chocolate) to give it to the reader at Christmas Eve (he wanted to gave reader a small gift before Christmas day, like a form of confessing his feelings to the reader). And reader also prepares a small gift to Wonka bc they also want to confess their feelings to him
Reader can be gender neutral, or however you want
English isn’t my first language so sorry any grammar mistakes, also sorry if I didn’t explain myself well
have a good day and thanks for reading 😭🫶💐
The Bittersweet Gift of Love [W. W]
Willy Wonka x gn!reader
word count: 1.8k
note: don't worry! English is not my first language either. I have to admit that writing with neutral readers is always a challenge for me because I translate my texts directly, but I think this time it's a decent thing. I hope you like it!!
taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos [Timothée masterlist]
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What could a chocolatier give to a person who didn't like chocolate? That was the question Willy had been asking himself for the past few weeks.
You hadn't specifically said that you didn't like chocolate, rather it was a matter of not liking the excessively sweet or sticky taste that some had. That is, most of the chocolates he made.
“Maybe it's just that you haven't found the right flavor,” he had told you once, while the two of you were talking.
And he was quite convinced of that, even thinking that if he managed to make something special for you maybe he would earn some affection from you. It would be as if he gave you a certain part of himself, so that you could make it yours.
So it was that Wonka, after reflecting a lot, decided to try all kinds of combinations until he found one good enough to satisfy you. Christmas was approaching and he believed that the occasion would be perfect not only to give you the present, but also to take an important step for which he had not yet had the courage: he wanted to confess his feelings for you.
The man didn't know much about love, however, he knew that he liked you a lot and he wanted you to know it. It was just that he was pretty nervous about it and he hoped everything would turn out as perfect as possible, after all, you deserved it.
Christmas Eve came when he was least expecting it and then it was time to dress in shades of green and red to attend the party that the Smith family would throw, as a thank-you to everyone after Dorothy had heard what the entire group did for help Noodle when she needed it most.
Willy put a lot of effort into buying, with some of the few coins he had left, a cute outfit appropriate to the occasion that he combined with his characteristic coat. When he was in front of the library door he felt the little purple box in his hands extremely heavy and he thought it would be a better idea to put it in his pocket, or else you would realize ahead of time the surprise he had for you.
“Mr. Wonka,” Dorothy greeted, as she opened the door “Come in, come in. It's freezing outside”
“Good night, Mrs. Smith,” he murmured cordially, removing his hat and placing it on a rack in the entryway. Apparently he was the last to arrive, since everyone else was already talking happily in the room.
Of course his eyes went directly to you, who was wearing a green sweater that highlighted your beautiful skin tone and you already had a huge smile on your pink lips from the cold.
“It's good to see you, Mr. Wonka,” said Abacus, being the first to speak “Sit over here.”
He smiled internally at the good fortune that the place the man had left him was right next to you and when you gave him a look, he felt himself blush.
“Hi,” he murmured shyly.
"Hello! I'm so glad you could come."
“I would never miss it,” he responded smilingly. His knees collided with yours and suddenly your warmth seemed to invade him as well, perhaps because of the closeness, but also because of the overflowing love he felt for you “How are you?”
With this question you began a pleasant and private conversation, which developed between close whispers and giggles that made him increasingly nervous. The others didn't mind too much that you didn't participate in the general talks, as they knew that certain unresolved matters probably needed time.
You ate the delicious dinner that the family had prepared, you drank punch, you sang some Christmas carols and when the night had advanced enough you returned to your previous place, although now with fewer people around.
“This is so nice, I love Christmas. The atmosphere is always so homely and warm” you said, with your eyes resting on the simple tree that adorned the room.
It was almost midnight and the others were in the kitchen sorting through some of the cookies that Noodle had put there an hour ago, which only left you and the chocolatier in the living room.
“I guess I believe you, your eyes are literally shining now,” he said happily. He felt like sliding his hand into yours and this time, steeling himself, he didn't hold back. You flinched slightly when you felt that.
“What are you doing?”
“I have something for you,” he breathed, feeling strangely excited by what he was about to do “It's a gift.”
“Oh, Willy,” you responded, a bit incredulously, as you bent down to grab something from your bag on the floor. “I have something for you, too.”
He chuckled when he saw the box lined with bright red and a purple bow decorating it, since it was a pleasant coincidence that you had also prepared something for him.
“But don't tell anyone, because he didn't bring gifts for the others,” you added, quietly, and then he helped you up, still holding onto your hand.
"Come with me"
He led you to an empty room and he closed the door behind you, hoping he only needed enough minutes to not raise suspicions among the rest of the guests. You were nervously holding the gift, with both hands now that he had let go of you.
“Okay, listen. I wanted to do something special for you today,” he began to explain, as he pulled the box out of his pocket. “And I also added, uh… a note. You don't have to read it now or anything, but it says something in it that I want you to know."
“You're starting to scare me,” you stammered, obviously nervous. Willy was going to ask what you meant until he saw you take a small envelope out of your pocket, which you placed on the red paper. “Because I have the same thing for you.”
He stumbled a little at the second coincidence of the night and he wondered what your note could be about. He knew that he had written a little poem confessing how he felt about you, but... what if you were just wishing him a Merry Christmas? He was going to look like a complete fool.
“You can read mine in a more… private place if you feel comfortable. Maybe alone,” he suggested, though he knew it was more for his comfort than yours.
“Huh, how about we just open the gifts and leave the notes for later? I wouldn't want you to read mine now either” you murmured, just as shy as him.
Willy agreed and you extended your gift in his direction, hinting that he would be the first to open. He undid the bow, carefully, and then opened the box, revealing a beautiful scarf.
“Wow, I…”
"Do you like it? I made it myself”
“I don't believe you,” he said immediately, looking even more surprised. “It's beautiful, I really love it. Thank you so much"
He wasted no time and placed the garment around his neck. Curiously, it matched the rest of his outfit.
"It looks pretty"
“Mine is also a gift made by me. Feel free to tell me if you don’t like it, I… I’ll understand, okay?” you looked a little confused at that and then he took out the piece of chocolate, carefully placed inside the box “I know you don't like chocolate, but I don't think anyone should live without consuming such a great delicacy. So I made you this, because it doesn't have those things that you don't like. It's... different, but I hope you like it”
With some shyness he offered you the sweet and you put it in your mouth, under his watchful eye during the process. You tasted what he had offered you: it was a little bitter, but not in that way that makes your head hurt or leaves a bad taste on your palate, but with just the right touch. It was firm and didn't melt in your mouth, but decent enough to chew on. And finally, it had a touch of something indecipherable to you, but that gave it a certain exotic flavor that was pleasant to your senses.
He, without knowing everything you were experiencing, kept looking at you because he wanted to analyze your reaction to know what you really thought, and luckily your reaction showed agreement with what your chocolate lips said:
“It is the best chocolate I have ever tasted”
Willy felt that like the greatest compliment in the world and he couldn't help a smile crossing his face, satisfied with himself for having achieved his goal, but above all for seeing the happy expression on your face.
“You will never have to eat chocolates you don't like again, I have a jar full of these just for you. They will even bear your name."
It was inevitable not to take a step towards him to hug him and the boy, although at first he seemed surprised, soon responded to you.
“No one had ever done anything like this for me. I appreciate it a lot"
“Well, it's my Christmas gift. I wanted it to be something special,” he confessed, feeling his heart beating in time with yours “Merry Christmas, Y/N”
“Merry Christmas, Willy,” you said. The note in his hand felt extremely heavy and he was eager to read it, but he knew he would have to wait a while.
Suddenly you heard Noodle calling your names and you got out of there before anyone else noticed your absence, which worked because the girl was walking around the hallway when you were closing the door.
“It's going to be midnight, come here,” she said and you obeyed.
Dorothy revealed that she had a small present for each person and you began to look under the tree, eager to find out what would be in those little boxes. It wasn't something very ostentatious, but you were grateful anyway.
So, when no one was looking, you ran to the bathroom to finally read whatever he had written to you, hoping it wasn't as embarrassing as the confession you had made. You were stunned to learn the content and for a moment you feared you were dreaming, but you weren't.
When you left you knew well what your intentions were and your heart stopped for a moment when you noticed that Willy was nowhere to be seen, until Lottie told you that she had seen him heading to the kitchen. You rushed over and when you opened the door you noticed that he was about to do the same, with a bright expression on his face.
A second later he had already pulled you inside and without saying another word, he kissed you.
795 notes · View notes
astrow1zar6 · 4 months
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Astro notes- 22
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Having a Neptune in the 1st house can feel like your living in a dream. It’s harder for you to not get taken up by your imagination. This placement is known for dreaming with their eyes open. A lot struggle from Maladaptive Daydreaming. Meditation/ Breath work can help with grounding these people.
Aries placements (especially the moon & rising) have amazing eyebrows. They’re all so perfect arched and full. They’re eyebrows can sometimes make them look intimidating as well.
Libra in your big three usually have buck teeth or they just have really big teeth in the front.
People with Pluto risings cannot stand fake energy. Being around too many fake people can literally make them go insane & snap on everyone. These people normally March at the beat of their own drum which causes many people to flock to them for advice.
Aquarius moons emotions can come out really robotically. Like you don’t know if they really care when you vent to them. They act very nonchalantly and bored when people open up emotionally to them. I started crying in front of my aqua moon friend once and she just stared at me & patted me on the back😭😂 she tried tho. Also I notice aqua moons have a weird thing with physical affection. They are the times to give like 2 seconds hugs or just not like to be touched much in general.
Sagittarius suns have a habit of embarrassing themselves to make others laugh. They really have no shame. They will say and no the most outlandish shit just to get a giggle out of someone. They can sometimes embarrass others tho if they do too much. They can be really extra.
People with Gemini & Sagittarius in their big three we’re probably class clowns
Leo suns never wanted the same things as anyone when they were little. They always wanted something that made them stand out from the crowd. (Ex: everyone had pink tiaras for my cousins birthday and my Leo cousin threw a fit because she wanted purple instead so she didn’t look like everyone else) 😂
Aquarius suns are chameleons in social settings. They can fit into any group & usually have a big people pleaser personality. Not in a weak way however but they just understand what people like & how to engage certain people properly.
Capricorn stelliums can end up being rich or famous. These people are really hustlers. I’ve seen these people start businesses in their 20s with this it worked 3 jobs to get the life they need. One thing these people know how to do is work.
Cancer and Libra suns tend to loose themselves in partnerships the most. I’ve seen these people make their partners their world while they completely neglect other areas of their life. They are both really blinded by love.
Uk an Aries sun women likes you when they start teasing/bullying you. (Playfully!) arguing is foreplay to them bizarrely lol.
If Jupiter is prominently yet negatively aspected in the chart it can show narcissistic or sociopathic tendencies.
Virgo moons tend to like very fresh light scents. Like fresh linen, laundry smells, light floral scents. Nothing to heavy.
Taurus placements look best with minimal to no makeup & Libra placements normally look incredible with a full face of makeup or just glamour looks. It’s really interesting how the two sides of Venus play out. Taurus gives more of an earthy goddess vibe & Libra gives me a more chic fashionista insta model/influencer vibe. Both value beauty & aesthetics but in opposite ways.
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millyhelp · 3 months
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It all fell Down.
Jason todd x reader
warnings: mentions of death, blood, sad jason. read at your own risk. Angst shit.
Notes: I cried writing this. good luck. and yes, I wrote a super cute smut a few hours ago and now this puddle of sadness. Maybe I should continue?
please comment.
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"Stay with me, stay with me..." Jason's fingers passed over your face affectionately. Thick tears of fear left his face.
You were bleeding. Your wound was deep, a bullet hit you.
It was supposed to be the perfect day. Your wedding. Your white dress was now red across the entire length of your chest. Jason's white suit blouse was in the same situation.
You lost blood quickly.
"It's okay." Your voice was weak and you coughed. The bullet hole had pierced one of your lungs, making blood fill it.
"There's nothing okay. Just stay with me, okay?" Jason sobbed and held you tightly against him. "Don't leave me..."
"I won't. I'm with you, right there." You placed your hand on Jason’s heart. His voice was low. Your lips were turning purple. "Jay..."
"Don't talk, save your breath. Look at me, please" Jason had never cried so much in his life. "Where's the fucking help?!"
Jason shouted, his voice broken by crying. The entire Batfamily was trying hard to control the chaos that was happening. No one had understood where the attacks came from.
"Jay..." You called him again. his eyes were heavy. You knew you couldn't take it anymore. "I love you..."
"Don't! Don't say that!" Jason shook his head. Childish sobs left his lips. "Don't do this with me!"
"Kiss me..." your blood-stained hand went towards Jason's face.
Jason would deny it. But he couldn't. Inside him he knew his end was coming. He was just being selfish.
His lips kissed you with tenderness and pain. Fear. afraid to lose you
Your lips were cold. A heavy sigh left your lips. Your heart stopped.
A scream of pain left Jason's lips.
"No! No! NO!" Heavy tears were left, loud sobs and screams. "DONT LEAVE ME! No..."
Jason shook your freezing body.
"Wake up! come on! wake up!" Jason caressed your face "My love, my princess. Come on, you have to wake up. Let's get married."
Jason went into a state of delirium. He wouldn't accept it. No. The only one who loves him the way he is, the only one who wasn't afraid of him. You were just sleeping.
"You chose such a beautiful dress for me, huh?" Jason's voice was broken. The tears didn't stop falling. "I can't wait to fill our house with kids. We want three, remember?"
Bruce, Dick, Barbara, Tim and Damian had managed to stop the attack. They did not identify who sent the shooters. But that didn't matter now.
A tear left Barbara's eyes when she saw Jason kneeling on the floor with you in his arms.
Dick, Tim and Damian knelt in respect.
Little Damian let a few small tears fall. Tears that no one thought he would ever drop.
Bruce walked over to his son. He placed a hand on Jason's shoulder.
"Jason..." Jason ignored him and continued talking to you.
"Come on love, wake up. I promised to take you to London! We have to catch the plane in a few hours!"
"Jason." Bruce spoke more firmly.
"You're going to love Paris! You told me it was your dream to see that big tower! My French is terrible, by the way!"
"Jason!" It was Barbara's turn to call him.
Jason looked at her. Barbara shook her head.
Jason didn't want to believe it yet. He ignored her.
"Jason! She died!" Damian's voice was loud and tearful. Broken.
"No... not for me..."
For Jason it was just a nightmare that for him, he would wake up like every other time. But this time, it wasn't a dream.
you were gone. you died.
and Jason can't save you.
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xinxiaogato · 9 months
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— snip! snip! snip...!
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summary. the hairstyle of the guy with indigo eyes was very specific: a short jellyfish cut that ended at the base of his neck with wispy, sparse bangs lined up in the front. however, what would happen if your boyfriend gave someone free rein to a pair of scissors near his head?
love interests. gn!reader x kabukimono, scaramouche, and wanderer. (separately)
warnings. cursing, jealousy, unedited, and a lil spicy during wanderer’s part.
word count. 3,506.
note. let’s pretend both niwa and the nameless child (named “isamu” here) are alive at the same time for this fic… you are referred to as “reader” by the way!
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꒰ 傾奇者 ꒱ — kabukimono
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your cutie patootie of a boyfriend always burst through the door after working at the forge and embraced you as if centuries had passed since the last time you saw each other.
but today, for some odd reason, when you heard the familiar squeak of the front door, that squeak wasn’t followed by the usual croon of your name and a rush of footsteps toward you. instead, you listened to kabukimono wordlessly pad into the bathroom…
and he didn’t come out.
concerned for his well-being, you quickly made your way outside the room he barricaded himself in and knocked on the door twice. “kabukimono?” you called for him. “are you all right?”
silence.
and then you heard him sniffle.
“y-yeah, i’m okay,” his voice returned meekly. “please don’t worry about me…”
your heart squeezed tightly in your chest. “wait, are you crying?"
"..."
"kabukimono, please let me know what’s going on. we can work it out together. you know that.”
you prepared to give him space if there was no reply, but the door creaked open shortly after. you took that as an invitation to walk in but was abruptly glomped by him, his face buried into your chest.
“kabukimono!” startled, you tried to gently push your boyfriend off, but it was like the two of you got stuck together by adhesive glue.
“what happened?” you asked with what breath he hadn’t squeezed out of your lungs.
kabukimono was so, so embarrassed. half of the reason he refused to budge was the shame for not greeting you properly…
…but the other half was the atrocity that had become of his front bangs!
previously, niwa had noticed them getting a tad too long to the point they were poking into kabukimono’s eyes, so like a good samaritan, niwa suggested to give them a little trim. 
kabukimono should’ve protested a little harder when he saw niwa take out scissors the size of gardening shears.
“n-niwa…!” quivered kabukimono as he gawked at himself through a shard of glass.
“i’m so sorry, friend; this is all my fault! but it doesn’t look too bad?”
“…niwa, reader is going to break up with me.”
niwa offered up his bandana for kabukimono to wear home, but kabukimono knew he’ll have to face this dilemma head-on sooner or later.
however, the closer he got to his and your house of wooden veneer… the more he dreaded your reaction.
“kabukimono…” you said softly, which turned his stomach. “…may i see your face?”
“…”
against his better judgment, the wandering samurai peeled his face off of your clothes and angled it so that you could glimpse his bangs, which were much shorter than you were accustomed to. your lips parted in mild surprise as you took another second to process this.
“…i look terrible,” kabukimono murmured in the silence, tears pricking his bluish-purple eyes. he knew he was seconds away from bidding his quaint life with you goodbye. “p-please don’t leave me…” he added underneath his breath, his fingers gripping onto you tighter like you were about to disappear.
…so this is what he was trying to hide all along.
you let out a little “pfft” that captured his attention and then smoothed back his short bangs to plant a kiss as sweet as summer fruit on his forehead.
“kabukimono, you look perfect,” whispered you with only love in your eyes.
for the first time that night, kabukimono looked up and donned a gaze of profound intensity that felt like it was sucking you in. he really loved it when you said his name with your voice; it made him melt into a puddle. 
“i’m not gonna leave you over something this silly,” you continued, making him scrunch his face when you booped his nose. “besides, it’ll grow out.”
“really?” he croaked.
“really. now how about you wake up isamu while i get dinner ready?”
kabukimono blinked away tears that had threatened to spill down his cheeks earlier. you always dispelled his worries in a flash no matter how trivial they were. why did he ever have doubts in the first place? you were his sanctuary—the end-all to his anxiety of being abandoned. “okay!”
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꒰ 国崩 ꒱ — scaramouche
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slam!
that sound of the door to his bedroom was nothing to sneeze at, but the fact that the fatui harbinger didn’t greet you with a kiss on the lips as per usual was. hell, you didn’t even get the chance to see his face when he came home. that either meant he was really angry or really tired, and whether he joined you for dinner was up to you to test the waters.
tonight, you were feeling brave. how could he turn down your infamous chicken katsu?
“scara!” you exclaimed, wiping your hands on a towel before approaching the lion’s den. “i made dinner! or would you prefer a shower? or perhaps… moi?”
“…”
“i know you’re in there. at least give me a sign that you’re alive.”
“...”
“scaramouche! scaramouche! will you do the fandango?”
“...”
“sc-scara, there’s a fire in the kitchen!”
“…”
“seriously?”
well, you supposed you should’ve saved that one for later. you used that excuse last week to lure him out.
heaving a sigh, you turned on your heel to accept eating alone for the night when scaramouche suddenly whipped the door open and encircled his arms around you from behind, pulling a shocked you to his chest and locking you in place.
“if you turn around, we’re breaking up,” he grumbled into your ear.
“huh!?” you thrashed around in scaramouche’s grip to no avail. “that’s not something you can just decide on your own!”
“don’t care. if you saw me—!”
if you saw him, you would most definitely laugh, and the last thing scaramouche wanted to be was a laughing stock to his lover. of course he would cast aside his ego when it came to your reputation, but archons forbid you seeing him as something pitiable. not if he could help it.
“don’t you realize i’ll be more upset if i didn’t get to see your handsome face, darling?” you whined with futile tugs and twists at his wrists. “as to whatever happened, it can’t be that bad!”
oh, it was bad. really bad.
“the most important thing is eye contact!” declared his colleague with the irritatingly bright locks of orange hair. “after all, there’s a saying that eyes are the windows of the soul. how else are you supposed to communicate your feelings to them?”
“...dude, you don’t even have light in your eyes,” scaramouche responded. “why should i take advice from you?”
“what does that have to do with anything?”
sandrone’s massive puppet smacked tartaglia upside the head as she scowled. “stop making a ruckus, and just cut the balladeer’s bowlcut already. he looks homeless.”
“yes, i don’t think we can handle the sixth harbinger’s lamentation about his relationship much longer,” arlecchino grumbled, her eyes turning so far upward that they almost rolled right out of the room.
“none of you guys were even supposed to know about it!” scaramouche roared with fury practically emanating off of him.
this outburst had all the other partygoers of the tsarita’s banquet turning their heads. they couldn’t believe their eyes, but it was true. all ten executive heads of the fatui were gathered together in one place (fly high, signora). even the harbingers themselves never thought something like this would happen if it weren’t for you, who scaramouche had introduced and (to his dismay) had made them all smitten toward you. even the tsaritsa thought you were pleasant.
the fatui harbingers could not refuse your suggestion to have “team bonding events”—this gala being one of them—and the animosity between these lieutenants have actually lessened over time (by a hair’s breadth).
“i can use my water blades,” tartaglia offered, who thrusted his hands forward to summon them.
scaramouche’s hands balled into fists, ready to clock the eleventh harbinger before he even had the chance. “no. a thousand times no! don’t even get those things close to me if you want to live, you asshat.”
“what… transpired this?” whispered pulcinella, unable to keep up with the youngsters’ energy.
pantalone took it upon himself to explain the situation. “word is that our dear reader complimented the hairstyle of a subordinate working underneath the balladeer,” the regrator informed as he pushed his neck-strap spectacles higher up the bridge of his nose. “since then, he has failed to complete a single assignment.”
revealing his sharp canines, dottore snickered. “in spite of that, it truly is miraculous that the kid found someone who could get past his ironclad exterior.”
columbina hummed in agreement. “it is miraculous that anyone even likes him~!”
they eventually resorted to a pair of scissors that dottore had in his coat pocket (dottore was almost disappointed when il capitano reminded everyone that he carried one), and after some convincing and straight up fist fighting, it was decidedly pulcinella who got on a stool to give scaramouche a snip.
and pulcinella… doesn’t have the best eyes.
“if it’s about your dark circles, it’s okay,” you reassured scaramouche back in the present. “i’ll always accept you the way you are.”
“i don’t have dark circles!” in a fit of rage, scaramouche spun around to glare at you while blinking several times in quick succession and—lo and behold—gave you front-row seats to pulcinella’s botched job at cutting his bangs, which now ended halfway down his forehead. scaramouche felt his heart drop into his stomach at the sight of your widened eyes before he shoved his hat into your face and stormed off.
“w-wait, scara!” you chased after him to the living room, and he still refused to face you. “that was what you were worried about me seeing?”
following that was a silence that thickened the air. you walked up to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder. “hey… i like guys with short hair, you know?”
“...but that damn skirmisher had long hair,” your boyfriend grumbled.
ah. this confirmed your suspicion that he overheard you speaking to his underling. little did scaramouche know that you had just been asking about your boyfriend’s whereabouts that day (but of course the balladeer anxiously spying on you the whole time made it impossible for you to locate him).
“i also like guys with blue hair and blue eyes.” you went to stand in front of scaramouche and placed his kasa hat back onto his head before squishing his face with your hands. he furrowed his eyebrows and tried to pull away, but the almighty harbinger became weak before you very easily. “i like guys with red eyeliner. a big hat. a haughty attitude. i like you, darling. and nothing is going to change that.”
scaramouche clenched his jaw and looked down at the floor dejectedly. “...how can you stand it though? you just said my attitude is haughty. is that… fine?”
“i’m still here, aren’t i?” you smiled. “and i’m not going anywhere. even if you went bald.”
“...do not allow that image to form in your brain, reader.”
“it’s too late.”
“reader!”
but despite the irritation laced in his voice, his lips were curled into a smile reserved only for his lover’s eyes. he liked you, too, and nothing was going to change that.
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꒰ 放浪者 ꒱ — wanderer
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“lesser lord kusanali.”
the dendro archon whirled around and almost let out a breath of relief at the sight of you entering the sanctuary of surasthana, your fingers intertwined behind your back. “grand sage, it is good to see you,” nahida greeted earnestly. “i’m sorry for contacting you on such short notice, but you were the only one i could think of reaching out to.”
“really?” you cocked an eyebrow as you descended down the white stone walkway. not at all did you mind chatting with nahida when you had the chance, but if you were the only person capable of solving her problem, it must be serious. “what could be the matter?”
“well… it’s rather a long story.” scratching her cheek, the dendro archon recounted what took place that morning.
“what are you thinking about?” the little archon questioned as she and wanderer strolled along the outskirts of the city.
wanderer kicked a rock that had the misfortune of being in his path. “you and i both know the answer to that,” he stoically replied.
“has it been that long since you and reader have seen each other?”
those words made something in wanderer’s chest feel a foreign pang, one that only occurred when he envisioned your face.
“i know that they’re busy with official affairs,” he scoffed, coming to a full stop. nahida followed suit, looking back at him with a hand to her heart. “it just can’t be safe for humans to stay cooped up inside of their offices all day long.”
nahida knew the nonchalance in wanderer’s tone was just a cover-up for how much he missed you, and the archon was all too familiar with that feeling. “wanderer—”
“i’m gonna make them regret prioritizing their work over me.”
with a tip of his hat, wanderer started trudging back the way they came.
“hey, wait!” she rushed after him and clung onto one of the blue fabrics dangling from the back of his head covering, which yanked him back toward her.
“what?” he deadpanned.
“how are you planning to make reader regret it?” she asked her disciple, anxious about letting him out of her sight.
“...”
wanderer recalled overhearing a conversation in the grand bazaar. a woman was fawning over her husband’s new appearance, who shaved off his beard earlier that day because he wanted to surprise her, and it was like she fell in love with him for the first time all over again.
wanderer wanted you to fall in love with him all over again.
“haircut,” he grunted.
“haircut?” nahida echoed.
“i want a haircut.” wanderer blatantly pointed at his head.
nahida took a moment to process his request before breaking out into a smile antagonistic to his scowl. “leave it to me!”
“and that was my first time cutting someone’s hair…” concluded nahida quite dejectedly. “...so you can imagine his fury when he got his hands on a mirror…”
“oh, archons,” you muttered right in front of her, slapping a hand to your face. “where is he now?”
“i’m not sure… i think he grumbled something about curling up in a corner and never seeing a single person again before he flew away.”
the only place you could imagine he escaped to was your shared home together in sumeru city, which was the biggest decision you two had carried out together in your relationship so far. however, you had no idea that the house became such a lonely place for wanderer. anguish squeezed your heart as you pictured him eating dinner alone, pretending the food was satiating like you had suggested in the past because he had wanted to be more human. “like you,” he had said.
“please let the other sages know i am taking an early leave,” i said, pivoting on my heel. “lunch is on me tomorrow!”
“good luck!” nahida called out to you, and as you pushed through the doors of the sanctuary, you felt like you grew wings right there and then.
when was the last time you inhaled a breath of fresh air…?
you dashed home as fast as your little legs (that had been stationary for what? six days?) could carry you home. along the way, nilou stopped you to discuss performing for the people in aaru village, cyno wished to speak about dispatching additional soldiers to monitor trade in the caravan ribat, and al haitham wanted a vacation(?)
however, you had to direct each one of them to your p.o. box because there was one request that waited to be fulfilled for a long, long time.
“babe!” you exclaimed, stumbling a bit as you peeled off your shoes at the doorway. “babe, are you home?”
silence. every step you took further down the hallway entrance felt like stepping onto an eggshell, and your mind started to wonder. was he not actually here? where could he have gone then?
“babe—”
in a flash, you were tightly enveloped by a pair of arms that knocked the wind out of your lungs. you almost lost your footing if it weren’t for the wall right behind you while, in front of you, your lover’s shaking eyes were trying to immortalize every detail of your face onto the canvas of his mind.
“reader…” wanderer mumbled, his cold hands cupping your cheeks like they were made of glass. “you’re here.”
a complicated feeling began to creep up inside of your chest. you didn’t even have the heart to “pfft” at his bangs that looked like a kindergartener had cut it (which wasn’t far from the truth). the crooked ups and downs of his bangs were the least of your concerns.
“i’m so sorry, wanderer,” you whispered as you reached up and gently held his wrists. “i’ve been so busy with attending meetings and approving requests that—”
“shut it.”
wanderer leaned in and hungrily captured your lips with his, and it didn’t take long before they began to trail butterfly kisses down your jaw and to your neck. his grazing teeth coaxed small noises from your mouth as they made light work of your sensitive skin.
“wanderer, wait…”
he pulled back momentarily to look you dead in the eye. “i have waited far too long,” wanderer snarled. “just let me have you, reader…”
you could not risk losing the ability to walk like last time. an idea came over you in that moment to break the spell clouding wanderer’s eyes with lust and desire.
“i’M gONna mAke tHem rEGret pRioriTiziNg thEir worK oVEr Me!” you cried out dramatically as if you had been fatally wounded.
your allusion was so out of character that it completely caught him off guard. as wanderer pressed his lips into a thin line, he created some room for jesus between his body and yours and asked in a contemptuous voice, “did lesser lord kusanali make you come here?”
“of course not. i’m here because of you, babe.” you chuckled. “did you think i wouldn’t notice all the subliminal messages you planted in your works?”
wanderer’s eyes widened in light of that. “you read the scholars’ papers?”
“not typically, but i asked the sage of the vahumana darshan to provide me with yours,” you clarified.
you adored the way your partner wrote—even if he always acted like crafting those essays together was a chore. reading his dissertation on societal issues in inazuma was actually how you two crossed paths, as you voraciously sought the author behind it. who would have predicted that the aloof, cold stranger nahida introduced to you as “hat guy” became your clingy mess of a boyfriend years later?
“whatever, don’t pull that disappearing act on me again,” he snapped, flicking your forehead in an odd display of affection. you held back a few colorful words from the sheer strength he put into that finger.
“it’s not like i was trying to avoid you,” you stated. “plus, i would argue that you disappeared, too, babe. even our archon couldn’t surmise where you ran off to.”
“well, you knew where to find me.” and that’s all that matters, he chose not to add.
a soft laugh bubbled from your throat as you directed your attention back to what made him disappear in the beginning. “hey… there’s no need to doll yourself up to get my attention.” you gently swept his silky bangs to the side. “you are always on my mind and even more so when we’re apart.”
a hush descended over the world around you two as wanderer squinted his troubled eyes and averted them to the floor in deep thought.
he could not kid himself any longer. you, a measly and pathetic mortal, had successfully slipped past the outer shell he built to fool irminsul into believing that he was not an individual worthy of loving, existing, redeeming.
“...”
“wanderer?”
"...rea..."
reader, each day felt longer than the last without you by my side.
i never thought i would have a person in this world who wanted me as much as you do.
 if i had to thank beelzebub for one thing, it would be creating me so that i could meet you.
you are the center of my universe.
“teyvat to wanderer…?”
but wanderer would rather die than say allat. hmm, maybe he’ll put those heartfelt words on paper so that you can read them in your office, giggling and kicking your feet.
in the meantime, he settled on dragging you to the bedroom. “you’re getting punished anyway.”
“wha…!? wait, wanderer!”
but on the inside, you were so happy that it didn’t matter if your boyfriend had to fly you to the akademiya every morning for the next several days. you wished for nothing to take away the beautiful smile you could see creeping onto his face.
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© xinxiaogato. please do not translate my work without permission or attempt to plagiarize it.
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bakugoushotwife · 10 months
Text
Daddy's Home
a/n: yes this is a repost!! it got com labelled straight at posting last time and didn't even crack a hundred notes! btw there is a continuation coming by request so get excited for baby daddy satoru :0
cw: breeding, unprotetected p in v, daddy kink, sorta rough maybe idk
wc: 2.1k
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“You really should know better angel.” He growls, his large hands gripping the backs of your thighs so hard they were starting to burn. You could only choke out a moan in response, your eyes stinging with tears as he fucked into you relentlessly. Your hips hurt from the wide-spread angle your eager husband loves to take you in, keeping your legs by your ears and fingers clawing at his biceps. The pleasure was so intense it colored your vision, circular orbs of bright greens and purples floated across your sight, and you knew you were losing composure. Your screams ramped up deliciously, making the strongest man in the world let his head fall back with closed eyes to memorize the sounds.
He couldn’t help it, really, and it was all your fault. He came home earlier than usual, meaning his sister-in-law’s toddler was still at the Gojo residence. He was two, and just a precious kid. He was usually well behaved and was a massive fan of his Ti-Ti and Uncle Sato. But when he entered his home to see you passed out on the couch, the little boy curled up on top of you, his heart skipped a beat. The boy shared a lot of your features since your sister was the mother, but it took him aback to see you look so peaceful. You had your arms wrapped tightly around him, even in sleep. Your breathing was light, mouth parted slightly. The little boy had his thumb in his mouth  and head buried in your chest. There were soft nursery tunes in the background, and he could smell dinner simmering on the stove. Everything was right in the world, it seemed. The boy must feel someone staring, for he picks his head up and sleepily looks at his uncle. The boy smiles softly at him before turning over on you and going right back to sleep. Gojo smiled at the sight, heart warming in his chest. He snapped a picture for you, but he couldn’t stop staring at himself. 
It stirred something inside him, something that yearned to see you cradle a child he gave you, one that looked just like you. He never pictured being a father. Not even when he took in Tsumiki and Megumi, he felt more like a cool older brother rather than their dad since he was still a teenager himself. But he also never imagined being a committed boyfriend turned completely whipped married man, but here he is. He couldn’t ever possibly imagine the joy and love he feels with the life you’ve built so far. He wouldn’t even know how to tell his past self about it, if he had to. It made him wonder if children were the same. He could only imagine a tiny little mixture of himself and the person he loves most, and he knows they can’t lose that genetic lottery. How could that not be the best thing in the world? Spoiling you for an extended period of time? He does that anyway. The thought of you growing his kid, watching you swell month by month, god it was so perfect to him.
So don’t blame him for this, you had to go and make him think about a family. So it’s only natural that he’s keeping you locked in this position, all his weight leveraging his slender hips into your body. He always abused this power, smirking at you as you twitched and jerked beneath him, getting more and more sensitive with each orgasm he brought you. You looked so good like this anyway, his sweet pillow princess just laying there taking him oh so well. Your hair somehow always fell so perfectly around your head like a halo, lips swollen and bruised from his assault on them and your face pulled together in a picturesque pout. Your gorgeous tits bounced rhythmically along with his feral thrusts, sweet hands pawing at him to ground yourself. Not to mention the view he has of your glistening cunt and cute ass, his balls slapping up against your warm flesh violently. He loved everything about it, watching your ever tight pussy swallow his long curved cock, coating him in your arousal and arrivals so beautifully it made him moan. His noises were always so breathy and dreamy, you felt blessed every time he made one. 
He was impossibly pretty, his hair messy from the paths of your fingers, the tendrils that hung in his face were starting to stick. His eyes always shined brighter, filled with focus and admiration for his wife. His mouth was also slightly open, soft pants leaving his similarly-swollen pink lips. You feel your core tighten again, pulling like a rubber band while your eyes rake over your husband’s body; pale skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat and several fleshy pink scars. His physique was ever perfect, tone chest and tight muscles through his abdomen, you loved trailing your fingers down them. You felt hyper-aware of everything, the sheets tickling your back and the noise from the fan overhead. The moon lit up the scene, giving Satoru an ethereal glow. 
“So pretty Sato..” You mumble mindlessly, smiling to yourself at your magnificent luck in attaining the world’s most beautiful man. 
“Thanks, pretty mama.” He says, managing to pull his lips together in a smirk. He was close, feeling your choking walls spasming around him made goosebumps spring up on his skin. 
You moan softly at the pet name and squeeze down on his muscular arms and his throbbing erection. He grins at your reaction, leaning over your upper half to whisper in your ear. The feeling of his breath fanning over your neck makes you squirm, making him chuckle airily. 
“You like being’ called mama? I’m tryin’ to make you one.” He grunts, kissing the shell of your ear. You can feel him twitching inside you, the slight squelch of your fluids was the only sound other than your soft moans punctuating every roll of his hips and the lewd words he whispered in your ear. 
“Oh yeah?” You muster the willpower to say, getting absolutely punished by his force. “My hubby wants to be a daddy?” You coo, holding the back of his neck. 
He shudders, and you can tell he definitely likes that. You giggle and watch his cheeks flush as that sends him over the edge, pumping his hot seed into you and moaning quietly through his high. He leaves himself there even once he’s come down, intent to keep any of his cum from leaking out. He does let your legs rest around his hips, knowing you must be incredibly sore. 
“You would want that, right?”
You look down at his member keeping you plugged up. “Looks like it’s too late for protests.” You joke, giving him a soft smile after. “Of course I want a family, I just never knew when you’d be ready. I’d love to see you be a father. No doubt you’d be great at it.” 
He smiles in that arrogant way of his. “Just like everything else huh?”
“I would say my favorite quality of yours is your humility.” You groan, rolling your eyes at your lover. 
Things would just spiral from there, his craving to breed you not fulfilled until you present him with the evidence. He would bring you vitamins and you would make sure to track your cycle and dress in a more accessible way at home. If possible, his need to fuck you has skyrocketed, forcing you to be impaled on his cock at any given spare moment of the day. You’re not surprised when your dress is slid above your hips shortly after hearing the front door open and clothes. 
“Hey there pretty mama.” His voice rumbles in your head, his warm bulge pressed against your bare ass. 
“Hey there baby daddy.” You giggle, bending over the counter a little more, wiggling your backside in his grip. His hands press into your hips for a moment, and then you hear the sound of his belt. You grin, spreading your legs wider. 
His expression is similar as he slides his arm around your hips so he could reach the front of your pretty pussy. As eager as he was to plant his kids in your womb he always took the time to get you ready for him. Your body instantly starts to tremble when he begins to rub methodic circles around your bundle, sending jolts of electricity through you. He chuckles at you, making sure his other hand was holding your hips upright. 
“That’s my girl, I know you love this shit angel.” He coos, sliding his hand down to slip a digit inside your waiting entrance. You moan lowly, clenching around the one finger. You’re a whimpering mess shortly after that, his second finger added to the mix doing enough to you fuck yourself back onto them. He always curled them perfectly, tickling your pleasure spot so perfectly you were coming around his fingers in record time. 
You turn your head to watch him pull his fingers out of your cunt, slipping them into his mouth happily. You moan at the sight, wishing nothing more than to have the evidence of his love growing in you. He cleans his digits, pulling off his underwear in a swift motion. His hard member slaps his white happy trail, and you’re wiggling in anticipation at the sight of his pretty length. His tip was leaking and pink, what you guessed must be at least an hour’s worth of need pent up causing that color. Even his veins were pretty, slender and purple perfectly decorating his long shaft. 
“Ooh, mama’s feeling impatient today?” He asks, quickly tugging his blindfold down to rest between his collarbones. He hums, eyeing your weeping cunt happily. “All this after just my fingers? You wanna be bred more than anything, isn’t that right?” 
He spits on his cockhead, stroking the lube around himself. You nod, his words and touch doing unspeakable things to you. It was true, you wanted him to knock you up just as badly as he wanted to do it to you. 
“Yes, I wanna make you a daddy so bad.” You whine, gripping the sides of the counter when you feel his tip spreading your lips. You gasp sharply when he shoves his way in, bottoming out with no resistance. 
He hisses at the tightness, always mystified by your pussy. “You’re gonna, I know you are. Not gonna give you the choice, princess.” He groans, grabbing hold of your hips and using the grip to slide you along his cock. It’s filthy, the sound of skin on skin and your helpless wailing. 
It only takes him a few minutes to have you sputtering brainlessly, grip loosening on the counter, your ability to support yourself long gone. You’re seeing stars and calling out for him in a mumbled pant, letting him know you were adequately satisfied based on your body language. 
“My pretty girl. She’s being so good for me, taking all this cum all the time. Makes me s’happy…can’t wait for my pretty girl to get pregnant..” He voices, only making your walls squeeze down on him sporadically. “I’m gonna give you my kids, mama, you be good and keep it.” He grunts, your ass rippling with his thrusts. He only needed a few more thrusts before his sperm was fertilizing your womb, making you feel impossibly good. 
Your soft pants are music to his ears. He grins as he slides out of you, easily sweeping you off your feet and into his arms bridal style. “Now go lay down and hold onto this round.” He winks, just intent on spoiling you even though you’ve explained that that doesn’t necessarily matter. He refutes you every time, simply refusing to accept that there was nothing extra he could do to help you conceive. 
Luckily you didn’t need any more help. Not two months later are you bringing him a handful of different at home pregnancy tests that prove that all the hard work has paid off. And naturally, you're swept into his arms like a baby yourself, getting peppered with kisses and sweet whispers of his excitement and his oaths to take good care of you, as his latest fantasy has come true. 
He stays true to his word, you don’t want for anything and he keeps you as happy as can be, though his insatiable craving for your body doesn’t lessen now that his mission was successful. Now that he gets to watch you swell with his child, your body changing to become even more heavenly if possible, he can only think of keeping you this way.
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silvergyus · 3 months
Note
can't stop thinking about a 69 with soobin pleaseee
mirrored ceiling
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pairing: soobin x fem!reader
summary: your boyfriend gets a reflective film put up over the skylight in his room. a handful of flirty texts later, and you're riding his face
warnings: oral (y/n & sb receiving), 69, reader sits on soobin's face, reader gags on soobin's dick once, a little bit of cum eating, hickeys (y/n receiving), flirty texts in the workplace, use of “baby” for soobin, use of "baby/ good girl" for y/n
word count: 3,400+
author's note: thank you so much ☁️ anon for the request!! this was the most difficult fic I've ever written lol. huge thank u to @nightlyawnzz and @https-yeonjun for being beta readers &lt;3
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙**
The reflective film was new.
Soobin said the company had put it up to help keep the heating bill down since it had been abnormally cold this winter. You had no doubt it also acted as a temporary security bonus, keeping any potential peeping toms from seeing down the skylight. Either way, the silvery film was thin enough to let light in during the day, and, as you'd come to find out, shiny enough to reflect as a near-perfect mirror when the bedroom lights were on at night.
This was going to be fun.
You couldn't spend every night with Soobin, unfortunately. Work had asked you to come in early to set up before a big client came in, so you were forced to sleep in your own bed for once. You sighed, missing your space heater of a boyfriend. Normally you'd be resting your head on his chest so his warmth and the rhythm of his heartbeat could lull you to sleep.
You rolled over again and again, trying to get comfortable without the familiar shape of Soobin laying beside you. Defeated, you stared up at the ceiling through the darkness. From the bedside table, you heard the staccato buzzing of your phone.
Thankful for a distraction, you eagerly grabbed the glowing screen.
New message: 🩷 Soobie 🩷
You tapped the notification, opening your messaging app to two messages.
Miss you
[picture]
A strangled noise escaped your phone as you stared at the flirty image your boyfriend had sent. The photo was him, reflected in the new silver coating, arm out to your side of the bed.
Not fair, you texted back, wanna be snuggled right there 😓 You were tired and you missed sleeping beside him.
Come over
You know I can't tonight baby :(, you typed back. I'll see you tomorrow
:(
I can't wait
goodnite baby
sleep good
You smiled at his messages. I will🩷
can't wait to see u
You fell asleep, tiredness finally overtaking you, putting a pause on your thoughts of Soobin's new mirrored ceiling.
----
All through the next day at work you were a wreck. Halfway through your morning your phone buzzed with Soobin’s reply to your goodmorning! text. He sent back a simple good morning and another picture of him reflected in the silvery cover.
His hair was messy from sleep, sleep shirt pulled in the night to expose his collarbone, the faded purple mark you left there just barely visible. There was a lazy grin on his face as he reached up as if to wave.
Your eyes were wide as you scanned the image, taking everything in. Oh, he was teasing you now. And to think you thought his picture last night was innocent, just showing off the new feature of his room, as if "miss you" wasn't his go-to message when he wanted you in his bed for more than just cuddles.
Your tired brain must've skipped over any flirty undertones and your sweet boyfriend let it go, knowing you were sleepy. But he knew you were up now, and coming over in ten hours. You thanked the universe you had put on cute panties this morning.
The rest of the work day was you managing to get everything right despite the burning need that had settled over your skin once the puzzle pieces clicked into place. Soobin's messages had only gotten bolder as he sent you pictures of him sweaty in the dance room mirrors. You didn't dare sneak away for a photo to send back, only replying quickly before you were running off to the next task of the day.
----
Finally, your long day ended and you were on your way to Soobin's dorm. You sent him a quick text to let him know your eta.
He had food from your favorite takeout place waiting for you when you walked in, all but collapsing in his warm embrace as he greeted you at the door. "Missed you," he whispered into your hair.
You playfully slapped his arm, releasing yourself from the hug. "It was like a day and a half you goofball."
----
A few hours later, after eating and playing video games together, the two of you were curled up in Soobin's bed. The dim glow of the bedside lamp and the screen of Soobin's phone were the only sources of light. Your head rested on his shoulder, left leg resting on top of his right thigh, your arm crossing his chest so you could gently play with the hem of his sleeve as the video played.
You shifted your position slightly and felt the thick muscle in Soobin's thigh against your clothed core as you moved. A nearly inaudible whimper escaped your lips as you felt him against you, the want from the morning never fully dissipating.
Soobin stilled beneath you at your noise. The video continued to play, his eyes still focused on the screen. You held your breath, waiting to see how he would react. He had been the one to get you in this mood, but nothing had been brought up since the afternoon and you weren't sure if he was still feeling it.
Until you felt him flex the muscle in his thigh so that he brushed against you there again, your sharp intake of breath telling him that his texts had worked on you.
He paused the video, setting his phone down on the nightstand. "You know I really missed you last night."
"Mmmhmm," you hummed, face heating up. "You texted me, remember?"
"I remember," he whispered. "Look up there." He gestured to the ceiling.
You looked up to face your reflection, you and Soobin curled up together on his big white bed. "Keep your eyes up there and let me make you feel good."
He kissed you, breaking your view, a long, languid kiss. His tongue teased at the seam of your lips before exploring your mouth. The heat between your legs grew as he repositioned himself so that he hovered over you, cradling you tenderly beneath him. Your hands found their way to his head, tangling in his hair, the image reflected back to you in the reflection above.
The kiss broke with you whining for more as he trailed hot kisses down your throat. His fingers found their way to the buttons on your sleep shirt, undoing each one as his mouth continued against your throat. Once the final button had been undone, Soobin’s warm hands slipped underneath the fabric, slipping around to hold you, pushing the fabric aside as he did. Now bare, your nipples stiffened against the cool air. Soobin pulled away to admire your bare chest, groaning lightly as he did. “So pretty,” he whispered, sucking your nipple into his mouth and releasing with a wet pop. “Missed these.” You smiled to yourself; oh your silly boy, couldn’t go forty-eight hours without your boobs in his mouth.
He continued worshiping your breast, slowly kneading the other in his big hand, pinching and pulling at the nipple his mouth wasn’t attached to before pulling off and switching so that each side had the same attention. Your quiet moans filled the space; your fingers lightly scratching his scalp and pulling his hair the way you know he liked it.
“Must’ve missed me a lot, huh, baby?”
Soobin pulled off your chest, leaving your tits wet and open to the cool air. He nuzzled his reply into the skin of your belly as he pressed kisses down your body. “You don’t even know.” He kissed below your right breast. “Kept looking up and seeing everything reflected back.” A kiss just above your navel. “Thought about how good it would look seeing you cumming for me like that.” His lips hovered above the waistband of your panties. “Got so hard thinking about it.” He pressed a hot kiss to the lacy edge of your panties, grinding his hips against the bed as he did.
“Soobin,” you whispered, your voice whiny and full of breathless need. “Need you.”
He grinned up at you from where he was positioned- his face hovering over your pussy. “Need you to keep your eyes up there for me, okay baby? Need you to watch yourself cum for me.” You groaned at his words, complying with his request as you watched in the mirrored film. You watched him as he tugged off your panties, discarding them onto the floor. You watched him as he parted your thighs, giving him access to your needy core. You watched him as his dark head dipped down, licking a hot stripe through your folds.
After that, it became hard to keep watching.
----
Soobin’s plush lips wrapped around your clit, sucking gently. His tongue peaked forward as he did, running against the bundle of nerves. He had barely started and already you were arching your back, eyes closing as the sensations built.
His tongue worked against you, swirling against your clit, dipping down to run through your folds, teasing at your entrance. His mouth a wet, hot heat against your wet, hot core. His hands splayed out across your hips, holding you down when you instinctively bucked your hips, chasing the feeling of his plush lips against you.
He pulled off of you. “Are you keeping your eyes on the mirror?” His words caused a heat to creep over your skin. He registered your bashful response for what it is. “Need you to keep your eyes open baby, want you to see how good I can make you feel. Can you do that for me?”
You nodded. “I can do it.”
“That’s a good girl.” He returned his attention to eating you out, tongue giving flat, broad strokes to your core, swirling around your aching clit. You moaned his name, fighting to keep your gaze trained on the image above you. You on your back, nearly completely nude, your boyfriend between your thighs, the marks he sucked onto your chest blooming purple and blue. A particularly strong suck to your clit made you buck your hips, the image of yourself so desperate drawing another moan from your lips. 
You were already close, watching as you came undone causing you to unravel even faster. You clenched around nothing, craving that one final push to send you over the edge. As if he could read your mind, Soobin’s tongue nudged your entrance, slipping just barely inside. The feeling of his muscle there caused you to cry out, your thighs clamping together. Soobin hummed against you, grinding against the mattress as your enthusiastic response spurred him on further. The vibrations against your core, along with the bump of his nose against your clit sent you careening, your orgasm falling on you like a ton of bricks.
You followed Soobin’s instructions, watching as you writhed against the sheets. Watching as you bucked your hips. Watching as your hands dug into Soobin’s hair, pushing his face against you, desperate for more.
You watched as you rode out your orgasm on your boyfriend’s face, listened as he moaned against your pussy, lapping up the flood of wetness that you produced.
You tugged at his hair gently, pulling him off as you shied away from oversensitivity. He grinned up at you lazily, a dopey smile plastered to his face as your juices coated his skin. “Did you watch?”
Your chest heaved as you came down from your high. “Yes baby, watched the whole thing.”
He crawled up the bed to kiss you, the taste of yourself heavy on his tongue as it danced with yours. “Was it hot?”
“This’ll be hotter,” you replied, pushing Soobin against the bed.
His eyes were wide, unsure of what you were about to do. You kissed him, hands finding the hem of his shirt. You tugged it up over his head before slipping the rest of your open shirt off your shoulders and pressing your bare chest to his. He shivered when your skin touched, growing increasingly aware of how angry his erection was in his boxers.
You palmed him through the thin material, continuing to kiss him, humming against his lips when he whined. “Hmm, lay down flat for me baby. Gonna make you feel good now.”
He complied, shuffling down the bed so he was flat on his back. Slowly, you pulled off his boxers, a wet stain of precum showing just how ready he was for you.
His free cock slapped against his tummy, beads of silver dripping onto his skin. You grabbed it at the base, locking eyes as you asked “Do you want to try something? Could be fun for you with the mirrored ceiling and all.”
He agreed, not quite sure what you had in mind as you climbed up so that you were sat on his chest. You quickly explained your plan, growing warm as Soobin held onto each word, growing more visibly excited as you spoke.
“Can you keep your eyes up there for me?”
Soobin shook his head, laughing at you making him play his own game. “I'll try my best, baby. Anything for you.”
You giggled, moving so that your hips were over his head, your face hovering over his flushed cock. “Let me know if it’s too much, okay?”
“I will. But it won’t be.”
You kept your hips hovering over his face for a few moments, despite his hands gripping into your thighs. You loved to hear the sounds he makes when you first take him into your mouth.
“Fuuuck,” he cursed out slowly as you licked at his leaky tip, “so good.”
Your tongue teased at his slit before you dragged it down, tracing the vein that ran across the underside. You placed slow kisses along his length, hand massaging his balls as you did. His heavy breaths were loud in the quiet of the room as he fought to keep his voice down, always a bit louder when he was in your mouth. 
Wanting to put on a show for him before you truly sat on his face, you angled his cock towards his hip so you could take him at an angle that would reflect more than just the back of your head. Your lips wrapped around his tip, suckling him into your mouth. His sharp intake of breath made you smile around him, just the corners of your mouth turning up. You slowly dragged your lips down his length, causing him to whine.
Before you could do anything more, he pulled your ass down so that his lips could attach themselves to your clit once again. The motion caused you to pull off Soobin’s cock, your balance wobbling. You tipped forward, moaning with your face pressed against his balls. His hips chased the vibrations and you felt him groan against your core.
Your thighs were still wet and sticky from Soobin’s earlier endeavors as they closed around his head, your hips rutting forward, needing more of him. You tried your best to focus on Soobin, on making him feel good. This was your idea but already you were lightheaded and distracted with your own pleasure.
You took him into your mouth again, feeling his weight heavy on your tongue. Relaxing your throat, you took him as far as you could go. He was big- fat tip nudging at your soft palate as you tried to focus on breathing through your nose. Meanwhile, Soobin’s tongue teased at your entrance, darting inside as your nose brushed against his pelvis. His teasing caused you to twitch forward, gagging yourself slightly on his cock. You pulled off, gasping, air flooding into your lungs as a thick mix of drool and precum fell from your lips.
Without your lips wrapped around him, Soobin was more precise in his actions, driving you closer to your second high. His hands squeezed your thighs as he licked broad stripes up the length of your folds, rough, desperate squeezes that would leave marks in the morning. His lips and tongue were wet and hot against your clit, the slippery friction making you release a string of needy whines.
You gripped onto Soobin’s cock, hand slowly pumping him as you tried not to get lost in your own pleasure. You brought your face down to lick across his length, your spit adding to the mess pooling at the base. You gathered it in your hand, coating his length with the wetness while licking the head. His hips stuttered in response. You took him into your throat again, bobbing your head on what you could comfortably take.
The room was filled with the slick sounds of your shared pleasure. Soobin groaned softly beneath you as he ate you out, taking pleasure in the taste of you and what small glimpses he could get of the two of you in his new reflective ceiling.
You continued to bob on his cock, alternating with slick jerks of your wrist when he became too much.
The pressure building in your core was becoming overwhelming. You rocked back, putting your weight onto your hands as you ground your hips down onto Soobin’s face. Your boyfriend grunted underneath you, his tongue moving faster against you, reading the cues of your body, wanting you to cum on his face. His hands moved up from where they were holding your thighs to squeeze hard on your ass. Broken whimpers fell from your lips as Soobin’s swollen lips slipped against your clit, the slick friction of his lips and tongue sucking and licking was about to send you over the edge.
“There, there, right there,” you moaned into the skin at his hip. Your hips were moving on their own as you chased your high, cumming hard on Soobin’s tongue. You cried out, hips stuttering away as you bucked overstimulation, but his big hands held you back, keeping you on his tongue as he led you through your second orgasm.
Head heavy with your high, you reached for Soobin’s cock again, not wanting to leave him without your touch. Catching your breath, you adjusted yourself so that you weren’t sitting directly on Soobin’s face anymore. He groaned at the sight of your swollen pussy dripping down onto him, wet with your combined fluids and flushed from his attention.
You hummed as you pulled him back into your mouth, sucking at the head of his cock, flushed red with want. Your hand jerked the base, your quick movements bringing him closer to his own orgasm. He moaned beneath you, his breath hot against your sensitive pussy. Your motions sped up as your tongue flicked at his slit, your hand jerking him in quick motions. His hips stuttered beneath you, bucking up into your grip, chasing his high. “That’s it baby, cum for me. Make a mess.” You said, pulling off him as your hand moved the slick of your spit and his precum down the length of his cock, movements getting even more slippery. “Look up in the mirror,” you commanded, craning your neck as you moved your hips so you could make eye contact with him in the silvery film above.
The moan he let out when your eyes met in the reflection was loud, drowning out the wet sounds beneath your face. “Gonna cum, gonna cum baby.”
You smiled, turning your face back to his cock. “Let go baby- cum for me.” He choked out a strangled whine as he came, spurting ropes of cum across his tummy and thighs. Your open mouth caught some too, the taste of salt bursting on your tongue as you caught what you could, knowing Soobin liked it when you tasted like him. Your hand slowed as you continued pumping him, milking his cock until he tapped your thighs, signaling you to climb off.
----
He pulled you to his chest, cuddling you in his arms as you both caught your breath. Soobin’s face was a mess of slick and spit, his hair mussed up, standing on all ends. He looked sleepy and content, fully sated. You kissed him, tasting each other in the kiss. “Was that everything you were thinking of when you texted me yesterday?”
He smiled, dopey grin lighting up his face, “maybe not everything.” He kissed your nose. “Honestly, I couldn’t see that good with you in the way,” he teased, placing a light slap to your ass. You smacked him playfully on the chest. His hand found yours, lacing your fingers together. “But we can try the rest later. The film’s gonna be up for a while.”
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author’s note: this is a work of fiction not meant to accurately represent the idol. please do not repost.
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