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#uh oh long ass post time
dilfkuza · 7 months
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rgg summit has left me. very unwell and attempting to cope. but after a quick scroll on here at least im not alone in being severely fucked up by this new info and that's comforting
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dexaroth · 1 year
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first draft of xor (logic gate placeholder name, im gonna try to incorporate techy stuff into their design) + a past testing ref sheet where half of the lineart is original and half is reused from other drawings + the current pose and overall shape im gonna use for his actual ref whenever i get to finish it lol
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sotogalmo · 9 months
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3:30
Heheehhe felt silly when reblogging that moral Orel post. Hah.
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deadsetobsessions · 4 months
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He could overlook a lot of things, but this was getting ridiculous. You’d think seasoned vigilantes would have better excuses prepared, but Danny had caught that flash of panic that crossed Tim’s face as Danny came face to face with Tim dragging an unconscious Steph to her designated room in the manor.
“Uh.”
“Danny! Uh, Stephanie brained herself- uh, sliding down the bannisters and- pleasedon’ttellBruce.”
Danny blinks, staring at Tim and then very pointedly, very slowly, turned his head back towards the direction he came from: the main hall… where the bannisters were. He wonders what vigilante hijinks they were trying to hide from B this time.
Tim coughs, trying to inch Stephanie away. “Uh. She was doing… cartwheels?”
Danny let his eyes slowly take in the bruises that were clearly not from “cartwheeling in the mansion” on the both of them. There’s a huge bandaged cut on Steph’s forearm and a giant bruise on the edge of Tim’s jaw. Tim’s face twitches nervously, not that anyone else would have noticed- except Danny has enhanced ghost senses and could feel the panic coming off of his adopted brother.
“You know…” Shit, what does he do? Not knowing would be so much easier if these idiots gave him good excuses! “I don’t think I want to know what you two have been up to… but should I be worried for your, uh, physical health?”
“Nope!”
“… Okay.” He says. Tim opens his mouth to make further excuses but Danny adds quickly, “But don’t tell me, because if Bruce asks, I want plausible deniability.”
Cartwheels, Danny’s ghostly ass. Luckily, this show of doubt reaffirms Tim’s belief that Danny believes them all of the other times. Danny grins inwardly, planning capitalizing on the guilt that flashed over Tim’s face.
“Deal.”
“Want help?” The halfa points at Steph, who’s still being dragged over the carpet by a noodle armed Tim. Danny knows Tim’s strong, he’s a vigilante, but it’s funny watching him pretend to struggle.
“Please. I’m so tired right now.” He looks it too. Danny’s brows furrow with genuine concern when he takes in Tim’s drowned raccoon look. He picks up Steph, firmly removing her from Tim’s suddenly weak grip. Being careful to avoid her injuries, Danny nods at the door to her room. Tim cracks it open and does a little showy gesture towards the inside.
“C’mon, we’ll tuck her in and then I’ll tuck you in.”
“What, you don’t have to do that.”
“If you don’t let me tuck you in and make sure you sleep, I’ll tell Alfred who really accidentally poured boiling hot coffee on his azaleas last week. And I’ll sic Dick on you and tell him you haven’t been sleeping enough.”
“You drive a hard bargain,” Tim grumbles. “But fine. It’s really not my fault I’m this tired. A missing spleen is hard to handle, you know.”
“Yeah, missing an organ sucks,” Danny says, shit eating grin hidden long enough to catch the contemplative bloodhound look that passes over Tim’s face.
“Which- uh, which one of your organs is missing?”
“Liver.” Danny says, remembering the flashes of pain. He tilts his head away to hide the grin at Tim’s panicked face.
When he tucks Tim in, he pretends to believe Tim’s sleeping act and left his room while mumbling about the Wayne’s clumsiness and bruises and stocking up on bruise cream. He couldn’t even enjoy Tim’s floundering, this time, worried as he is.
——
“Brother.” Danny half turns his head, just to beam a sunny smile at Cass. He signs an exuberant hello. The halfa hangs up his coat as he addresses his adopted sister.
“Cass! What’s up?”
“Dinner.” She smiles back, signing that Alfred wanted them to the dinning room post haste. The main dining room, because rich people were fruit loops and Batman is totally included. Cassandra looks down and gasps.
What…?
Oh. Fuck. Danny glances down. He genuinely forgot about that.
“Huh.”
“Okay?” Suddenly, Cass is right next to him, hand reached out and hovering over the actual knife Danny forgot was sticking out of him. At least it’s where his liver should be, so he won’t have to pretend.
“Oh. Yeah, I’m good. Don’t have a liver.” Danny decides on the spot that he’s not gonna mess with Cass. She smiled the same as him. “Got mugged on the way back but I think they said I could keep the knife, right?”
“Danny.” She’s frowning at him. He feels like he just kicked tiny Cujo. But he doesn’t feel bad enough to blurt everything out.
“Here. You can have it if you want?” Danny casually pulls out the knife and holds the wound together with his bare hands. Cass looks more alarmed. She bodily picks up Danny and starts running.
“Woah!”
Cass throws him at Alfred, gently.
“Miss Cassandra! Why, I never-!” Alfred pauses in surprise.
“Uh. Wow, Cass. You’re really strong.” Danny pipes up, hand still over his gushing wound.
She ignores him, pointing at Danny and telling Alfred, “Hurt. Got mugged. Dumb.”
“Hey! It’s not my fault Gothamites are ready to jump people at any moment. Besides, it’s daytime. It’s not like the vigilante furries are out to save my butt. I think I did really well coming back safe, you know?”
“Hurt. Forgot the knife. Was in him.”
“Master Danny!”
Danny pouts. He also knows there’s a discreet camera in the corners of the sitting room, so he’s definitely hoping he could phase into the cave when Barbara eventually tells the group that he called them “vigilante furries.”
Alfred clucks his tongue and set to work patching him up. Danny tries not to bask in the careful way Alfred tended to his wounds. It reminds him too much of Jazz, if Jazz was British and a man with greying hair.
But because they were watching him and he was watching them in return, Danny noticed the moment Alfred’s hands stalled and Cass’ gaze got intense. What now…?
Oh, fuck, his vivisection scar. Oops. Danny smiled, channeling Dani (his lovely clone sister) at her most innocent.
Cass smiled back, just as sunnily, fists tightening at her side in repressed fury.
——
“Cass? Why’d you call us?”
“Yeah, baby bat. I got a couple o’ smugglers to talk to.”
Cass paces.
“What is it, Cassandra?” Damian tuts impatiently.
“Danny. Has… scars. Autopsy. But was struggling. When cut.”
“What.”
“A vivisection, Master Jason.” Alfred’s voice was crisp and eerily cold. His hands are folded, rage only held back by his sheer will and a well practiced sense of propriety.
“We find. Who hurt him,” Cass snarls. “We. End.”
Jason’s eyes glint green, hands going to his guns. “Fine. By. Me.”
“It does tie in with the dead comment. I wonder what happened to him.” Tim clacks away at the bat computer, furiously looking into the matter already. Bruce has taken to prowling, stressed out at the prospect of one more of his children- not a vigilante at that- getting hurt the way Jason had. Worse, even. A vivisection. He was alive, dissected. Aware enough to struggle. Dick looked like he was torn about hunting down and lunging at whoever hurt Danny to rip their throats out with his bare teeth versus the urge to go back up to the manor and wrap Danny in bubble wrap.
In the corner, Danny was having a quiet breakdown because he came here to watch them react to vigilante furries, not offering to murder the people who vivisected him. What the fuck?? He ran his hands through his hair, invisible.
——
“Oh, by the way, we should consider more daytime shifts.”
“Why?” Spoiler asks Barbara.
“Danny got mugged. And called us the nightly furries.”
“The fuckin’ what-?” Jason chokes out, laughing. Bruce stops his pacing, body language becoming slightly offended.
Danny muffles a laugh only Alfred would have heard.
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brainrotdotorg · 4 months
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imagine a dashboard for alligators. what do you think that would look like
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🍏gatoridae Follow
Controversial opinion. If you're doing nothing but eating meat, what are you even doing. Remember to include bugs, fruits, and legumes into your diet in order to help aid digestion of the meat that you get from snakes, fish, and mammals.
Just because we have the reputation for eating lots of meat, that doesn't mean we have to stick to it.
🥒biting-you-biting-you Follow
counterpoint: fuit yucky
🪵blog-from-a-bog Follow
wdym reputation of eating meat. i float lik ea log thats what im known for
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🌿swamp-ass Follow
asked dad if i could go and steal some Floridian guy's lunch and he said "we have prey at home" girl we have been doing shit ALL DAY i am an awesome 600 pounds and I need some meat left on me to deathroll with. let me get a quick snack that i don't need to kill mmmmmmm burgers I want people food soooooo badddd....... i know they shouldn't feed it to me but I have such a lovely smile oh please oh please give me your burger.........
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🥗aliali-seeyoulater Follow
mom says it was cold the season she laid me so i have to be a girl. because girls are always born from eggs laid during cold seasons.
cope and seethe mother first of all, second of all, the reason i am transgender is because you kept me too fucking snuggly warm in the nest.
#i guess if you wanted a daughter you should have. idk. made a shittier nest? #thats not really my fault man
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⛰fuckyeahhugesnout Follow
You'll never guess how I just learned that we have the honor of being the "loudest reptiles in the world"
🫑teethem Follow
Yeah yeah, the 90 decibel mating bellow, we've all heard it.
🤢ch0mper Follow
we've all heard the what
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🩲gaytorrr Follow
this guy asked if i wanted to see his gator hole and i said fuck yes. why this boy take me into a 65 foot long hole in the mud at the bottom of the lake
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🏞daily-clawsitivity
✨Remember to take it easy sometimes!✨We thrive in slow-moving waters!✨Even though we can run fast, we get tired fast too-- it's okay to let yourself take breaks!✨Let yourself relax, that's how we made it this far as a species.
mud-rocks-deactivated20140706
Yeah, imagine telling your prehistoric great great great great great great great great great great grandpa or something to calm down and relax when he should be doing nothing but deathrolls. the longevity of the species should be your only goal. It's irresponsible to encourage your fucking species to fall behind even more than it already has? Have some pride, you're not a crocodile.
scalesssss-deactivated20150310
jesus christ calm down
alidile-crocogator-deactvated20140709
Okay, this post has a lot of misconceptions in it. There aren't as many differences between crocodiles and alligators than you think. It's really harmful to think that we have nothing in common with each other. So what if they're carnivores and we're closer to omnivores, or their snouts are more U shaped while ours are V shaped. We're both badass miracles of nature that have no reason to be pit against one another all the time.
Don't listen to guys like this. It's just hateful and small-minded.
stop-jawlock-androll-deactivated20140911
crocs are like. like them shoes that float right
wetlandia898 Follow
i wish i was a crocodile because i could have a virgin birth and i wanted to see what it would be like to eat an immaculate conception.
bigchallengesrealblog-deactivated20190412
welcome to the no notes gator/croc discourse post.
🦖l8rg8tr-z Follow
omg this is the post.... i can't believe i would see this naturally on my dash
🎍taildraggers Follow
Uh are we just going to ignore the virgin birth reply orrrrrrrrr
🐊gator-heritage-posts
gator heritage post
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aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa Follow
hgwiow h
hsfhjs
howw ws i nbevyrboy tyopingssaog oo vd wi hhrth rh thrre cl alawas ?>>
🌴a-l-g-t-r Follow
lmao this idiot never learned how to use their tail to type
#/j lol yeah its kind of hard at first #actually i'd say cut your losses and forget how to type bring the laptop back to the dumpster its not worth it
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🐍bellowbellowmygoodfellow Follow
am i fucking stupid. i just learned theres another species of alligator other than just me and the guys in my swamp. and i said "oh wow I didn't know that! which one of the two are we haha" and my buddy just stared at me like I was a fucking idiot. how am i supposed to know if no one ever tells me this . WHICH AM I
🍖meet-eat3r Follow
there are only 70-80 mature chinese gators in existence while there are 750,00-1 million mature american gators . do the math.
🐍bellowbellowmygoodfellow Follow
i could have just hatched you don't know me.
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🍀gatortears Follow
a group of queer gators in church call that a congregaytion
#reblogging this one bc none of you appreciate me
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👞makemeintoshoesdaddy Follow
I'm seeing the no notes gator/croc post circulate again and ha ha yes it's very funny, but we are NOT starting gator/croc discourse in 2024. lets leave that shit in the past. i know that's not what the post really ended up being about but i am soooooo sick of it.
🌾clawstothewalls Follow
okay, so the one with a fetish for getting turned into handbags is gonna talk down to us now.
👞 makemeintoshoesdaddy Follow
Not to be a pedant but its Shoes Actually. It even says so in the name. Shoes.
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seokgyuu · 11 months
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→ PAIRING: Seokmin x Afab!Reader. → GENRE: College!Au, kinda comedy, small bit of angst if you look hard enough, teeny tiny fluff, smut MDNI. → SYNOPSIS: After having a crush on Lee Seokmin for three years, he somehow ends up wanting to be your roommate. Instead of rejecting him, you decide to give him the vacant room - right after confessing your feelings for him.
→ WARNINGS: roommate!seok, wet dreams, coming untouched (f), degradation, usage of the words slut, baby, angel, masturbation (m), making out, like really so much kissing, fingering, finger-sucking, she loves his fingers lol, unprotected sex (don't.. just don't), creampie.
→  WORDCOUNT: 11.5k
A/N: hi guys!! here it is (for some of you even on the date it was scheduled to be posted!), my first ever stand-alone svt fic! no part 2, no whole ass series, just this cute 11.5k baby I wrote after being deep inside my seokmin shaped hole (i am always in a seokmin shaped hole actually). i want to thank my bestie @honeykyeom for making the amazing header as well for being my inspiration for writing this <3 ily!! now, i hope you enjoy and as always please reblog & comment, these things are what makes writing worth while <3
You had a crush. A big fat stupid crush. And it was starting to get extremely annoying. You really tried to stop liking him because a.) he didn’t even know you existed and b.) even if he did he would never ever like you back because what are the odds for that to actually happen?
“People get together all the time, Y/N, stop being dumb,” Seungkwan, your best friend, would say on the regular since the topic came up basically every other day. Yet, you still didn’t believe the Lee Seokmin would ever give you so much as a second glance. He was too perfect. Perfect grades, perfect friend group, perfect face, perfect everything. You had first laid eyes on him on your first day of classes - he had started the same year as you, smile on his face, shiny new MacBook propped in front of him. He wore an adorable baby blue sweater and black rimmed glasses, his hair falling into his forehead and, god, you were gone the second you heard his honey dripping voice. 
That had been three years ago and now, both of you in your senior years, you still hadn’t talked to him even once. Or well, no, you had, when he had asked you for a phone charger which you had given him in exactly three seconds. You were still proud of that. 
*
“Hey, I heard you’re looking for a roommate?” 
“Are you- are you talking to me?” Your index finger was pointing at yourself while you blinked a few times at the person in front of you. 
“Uh, I mean, you are Y/N, right?” Kim Mingyu seemed just as confused as you. Probably because you were in fact Y/N and you were, in fact, looking for a roommate, but how on earth did he know that?
“No, I mean, yes, yes I am, but, uh, how do you- how do you know I’m looking for a roommate?”
“Oh, Seungkwan told me!” 
“You know Seungkwan?!”
Mingyu seems a little startled by your sudden outburst. You cleared your throat before chuckling nervously.
“S-sorry, I just didn’t know Seungkwan and you knew each other.”
“We go to the same gym, actually, and I told him my friend is desperately looking for a place and he told me you are in search of a roommate so…,” his smile was bright and pretty and you felt like you were about to wake up from a dream because why the hell was Seokmin’s bestie talking to you as if he had done it thousand of times before?
“I see, uh, I mean, I am definitely desperate for a roommate, rent you know, like, uh, I need to pay it soon and… well, I am short half of it and that’s what I would… need the roommate for,” you scratched your ear. Smooth.
“No, I understand! And my friend is just as desperate. See, he just broke up with his long-term girlfriend, she cheated on him, and now he just really needs to move out.”
“Oh, damn, sorry about that. You can tell him he can come by, eh, does tomorrow work? Like afternoon-ish? I have classes until four.”
“Awesome! I’ll let him know, thank you Y/N!”
Mingyu beamed at you, his hand up in the air as he waved, walking away and out of the building. Letting out a sigh you hadn’t even known you were holding, you grabbed your phone from your bag and unlocked it, quickly moving your fingers over the display to call Seungkwan. Walking out the opposite direction Mingyu had, you waited for your best friend to pick up, pushing open the door into the hot air of the early evening. 
“What’s up?” Seungkwan finally picked up and you rolled your eyes at the greeting.
“Hello to you too, Kwannie,” you said in a sweet voice, hearing Seungkwan scoff as a response.
“I’m in the middle of something, Y/N. So, what’s up?” 
“Kim Mingyu just asked me if a friend of his can move in with me,” you raised your brows as you walked over the campus to the parking lot, the keys to your car already dangling from your fingers, “care to tell me why you didn’t mention that?”
“Ah, that, well, I actually met Mingyu at the gym earlier today, like super early morning, and heard him talk to his friend on the phone and well, since I do have a few classes with him, I thought I should offer.”
“You should offer? Pretty sure it’s still my apartment you were selling off to a stranger.”
“Now, now. Mingyu isn’t a stranger now, is he? How many times have you stalked his insta now to look at that one specific gym picture of Seokm-,”
“Whatever, just- just please, for the future, let me know when you tell someone about my living situation, alright?”
“Sure thing, bestie. Now, can I get back to what I was doing?”
“Of course. Tell Hansol I said hi.” Before he could either protest or deny, you hung up and shoved your phone into your pocket. 
*
You dreamt of him again. It was a rare occasion, but it happened. Most of the time the dreams were innocent enough, just him touching your face, him laughing at your jokes, him simply acknowledging your existence. 
But this one was different. 
Seokmin was right above you, his body hot and sweaty. His eyes said so much more than words ever could and yet you longed to hear his voice. Longed to hear him say your name. He was buried deep inside you, his hips still, eyes never leaving yours. He throbbed, his whole body seemingly vibrated at how much he wanted you, your legs wrapped around his waist, wanting nothing more than for him to take you, mark you, fill you. 
“Tell me what you want,” he whispered, his hand caressing your face and you moved your head, your mouth sucking in his thumb, feeling him twitch inside of you.
“You can’t really talk with that in your mouth, can you, Y/N?” Fuck, his voice was so low so deep and when he finally moved down to kiss your neck, stuffing his thumb even further down your mouth, his hips now beginning to thrust, all of you began to shake. 
Then, suddenly, you were in your living room, right there on that windowsill that connected the kitchen and the living room, his hips drilling into you. He was wearing a dress shirt and a black tie, but both of it was loosened around his neck, your hands on his broad shoulders as he seemed to have made it his goal to fuck you senseless. You were a moaning mess, his lips sucking harshly on your skin, you yourself being completely naked. His mouth was everywhere: your neck, your stiff nipple, your lips. He took all of you in and you breathed in every bit he gave you. 
“You’re so fucking good for me, baby, so good, such a good little slut, letting me fuck her like this.”
“Mhm, y-yes, I l-love the way you f-fuck me, Seok!” His grip on you got stronger, hands digging harshly into your hips as he threw his head back now, your eyes taking in all of his beauty. The droplets of sweat, the bopping Adam’s apple as he swallowed, the way his vein popped out right there on his neck…
“Gonna make me cum, baby,” he moaned and you nodded strongly, feeling your own climax so close.
“Please, want your cum so bad!” you whined and as if those had been the magic words, Seokmin emptied inside of you, the feeling of his cum hitting you so deep-
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
You screamed, while your back hit the floor. You had fallen out of bed, your alarm blasting on the other side of your bed. 
“Fuck,” you groaned, sitting up slowly, your hand rubbing the back of your head. Funnily enough, that wasn’t the only part of you that throbbed. Just for a completely different reason. 
-
“You came in your sleep?” Seungkwan was impressed with you. You just wanted to punch him because why did he have to say that this loud right in the line for lunch?
“Shut up!” you said through gritted teeth and Seungkwan snorted, before grabbing the big spoon for the Kimchi.
“Don’t worry, no one is listening.” Instead of arguing with him you rolled your eyes and grabbed some Japchae before heading to the drinks. 
“But to answer your question: yes, I did. And no, that has never happened before. Like, I never ever had a dream like that, Seungkwan, never!”
“Aw, I can’t believe my best friend lost her wet dream virginity at the ripe age of 24!” He grinned as the two of you sat down at an empty table. You ignored him.
“It was so real. I honestly feel sick to my stomach. How could it have been so real?” 
It was truly astonishing to you. Hours had passed and the dream was still there, playing in your head over and over again, making you squeeze your thighs together more than not in the worst moments. Statistic class wasn’t supposed to make you horny and yet, you couldn’t say it hadn’t.
“I’m jealous. I never had an actual wet dream make me cum before, like yeah, I woke up with cum in my underwear before, but then again that’s kind of normal I guess?”
“Dude! You don’t need wet dreams to make you orgasm, you have a literal boyfriend!”
“He is not my boyfriend!” Seungkwan protested and you grabbed your juice box to take a dramatic sip from it. 
“Well, sounds like a you problem. Doesn’t change the fact you’re getting laid, though.” Seungkwan scoffed, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair. He apparently didn’t have a comeback. Served him right.
“It’s not like you are trying to change that,” nevermind. You sigh, putting the drink down again.
“What am I supposed to do? Just hook up with a random guy and act like I’m not madly in love with someone who doesn’t know I exist?”
“He knows you exist, you god damn drama queen. You had every class together first semester!”
You ignored him. Instead, you decided that your Japchae is the most interesting thing you had ever seen. Seungkwan shook his head and clicked his tongue.
“You’re an idiot, Y/N. Like the biggest idiot I have ever met.”
“Takes one to know one,” you muttered as a response, feeling a piece of kimchi hitting your cheek the next second. 
*
You were home at four forty-five and hoped there would still be time to clean up the place at least a little bit before the potential-new-roommate-slash-friend-of-Kim-Mingyu showed up. In record time you found yourself standing in a semi-clean living room (meaning: maybe the floor showed some signs of needing to be vacuumed, but at least everything looked tidy) with all the windows open in hope for some cool air because you sure as hell weren’t going to turn on the AC without another person to cover the costs. 
Just as you finished changing into some clothes not sweated through, the doorbell rang. Quickly, you made your way to the door, buzzing them up, only to hear a knock on the door next. Oh, so he had been let in already. Putting on your most charming smile, you pulled the door open, only for the smile to fade the second you saw who stood there right in front of your door. 
“Y/N?” 
Lee Seokmin had just said your name. And he was standing in front of your apartment.
“Seokmin, what- what are you doing here?” You asked, oblivious to the situation. 
“I- uh, I- Mingyu said he told you I was coming?”
“Mingyu? No he said that-,” you lost your ability to speak just then. The friend Mingyu had been talking about-
“Wait, you- you’re the potential new roommate?!” Your voice was barely anything but a squeak. Seokmin looked a little lost, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of his oversized yellow jumper.
“Yeah, did he not mention that?” 
Nope, seems like he forgot that part. You swallowed, pressing your lips together for a second while your brain tried to fully grasp the situation. This was Seokmin. Aka the guy you have been in love with for three years. And he wanted to move in with you. 
“Uh, no. Sorry, please come in!” You took a step back and Seokmin smiled at you (HE smiled at YOU!!!), walking into your apartment and looking around as you closed the door, hoping your racing heart would calm down. You wouldn’t exactly bet on it though. 
Seokmin took his shoes off and you watched him, already beginning to chew on your lip like you always did when you were nervous. He turned around and you quickly smiled, walking into the living space.
“So, this is the living room, it uh-,” you stopped speaking, your eyes now on the window connecting the kitchen and living room, on the windowsill you had just dreamt about last night. Your face suddenly got very hot. 
“It connects to the kitchen through that window, which I thought was really cool, big selling point,” you watched as Seokmin walked over to the kitchen, his eyes roaming through the room and when he stopped in front of the window, hand touching the sill you nearly felt yourself loose footing. Why the fuck did he have to do this? For a second you were convinced this was just another dream. 
“It definitely is unique,” he said, nodding and walking into the small but modern kitchen.
“Uhm, there is a dishwasher in the kitchen and a microwave. We don’t have an oven, but I am pretty sure I have like a small one in the attic. I am more of a take-out or quick meal kind of gal, so I don’t really use it much. But if you were interested in baking something, I could definitely get it down,” Jesus, why on earth were you talking so much? But Seokmin seemed to appreciate it, nodding understandingly as he looked around with a small pout on his lips. Maybe this wasn’t the right moment (or maybe it was the perfect moment) to stare at him, but you did. You watched his every move, how he checked out the cupboards, how he asked before he opened the fridge, how he pulled a hand through his hair as he asked a question. 
Oh! 
“Sorry?” You crossed your arms, the hotness of your cheeks only increasing. Seokmin chuckled.
“I asked if you had a certain system in your fridge with your old roommate.”
“Oh, well, not really. We kind of always planned what we were going to eat, she was a big cook actually. Enjoyed it a lot. I store my Ramen right here, wait,” you walked into the kitchen fully now too, to the cupboard next to where Seokmin was standing and got on your tiptoes to reach for the door, opening it in a swing.
“There,” you explained, looking over at Seokmin - only to see him look at you instead of the food. You blinked a few times. He blushed.
“Ah, yes, I see. Cool. So, uh, no system. That’s fine with me! I wouldn’t say I’m a cook per sé, but I can hook up some simple dishes,” he turned away, your whole body suddenly feeling a lot hotter than a second before. Nodding, you closed the cupboard again and walked back outside. Seokmin followed you.
You showed him the rest of the apartment (except for your room) and finally the two of you ended up in the living room again where you sat down on the couch. 
“I, uh, I would love to take the room, Y/N. But it’s obviously up to you.” His smile was so… you gulped down whatever response you had in your mind. Now wasn’t the time to eat right out of his hands, no, you had to think about this. On the one hand, you really needed a roommate. There was no chance you could hold this apartment by yourself and you really didn’t want to move. But on the other hand, this was Seokmin. You couldn’t just let him move in with you when you liked him this much, could you? At least not without him knowing. An idea popped into your head. It was risky and stupid and you would probably regret this. But then again - if he wanted to move in, and apparently he was just as desperate as you to get this room, it would only be fair to let him know what the situation was. 
“Look, Seokmin,” you started, your hands in your lap, your heart racing again (or still). You looked up at him, your cheeks still bright red. Seokmin watched you, unsure what to make of your current behavior. He decided to just let you talk.
“I really need a roommate. And you really need a place to live. Mingyu, uh, he told me about the break-up and I’m really sorry about that,” - you were also happy you hadn’t tried to make a move considering he had a girlfriend -, “but I would feel horrible to let you take this room without knowing the full truth.” 
Now, Seokmin got a little spooked. The full truth? Were you going to confess that you were a drug dealer? Part of some gang? But then you probably wouldn’t need a roommate considering you’d make good money. 
“I, uh, okay,” Seokmin swallowed hard. You took a deep breath.
“I like you. As in, I like you. I have for years now. I didn’t know you had a girlfriend, and to be honest, even if I had, I probably wouldn’t have succeeded in getting over this crush. I’m not telling you because I am expecting anything from you, I promise, hell, I never planned on telling you ever. But you want the room and I would be happy to give it to you, I would just feel weird having you live here with this big secret to keep.”
There were approximately three minutes of silence in which you were sure Seokmin would get up and leave. He stared at you, his mouth slightly dropped and you could have kicked yourself for finding him endearing. Starting to shift on your seat once the third minute started, Seokmin realized he had been staring instead of answering. But then again, he really had not expected this sudden confession. 
“I, uh, I am flattered, Y/N, really, I just, I- I just got out of a relationship and-,”
“I know that! As I said, I didn’t tell you because I want anything from you. I have been happy liking you from afar, Seokmin. And who knows, maybe having you close by all the time will actually make me stop liking you. I mean, what if you’re like a total slob or listen to super weird historical podcasts?” 
“What do you have against historical podcasts?” Seokmin asked, eyebrows raised in surprise. You chuckled.
“Nothing in particular. But my last roommate listened to them on like full blast. Just got annoying at some point.” 
He nodded now, understanding. Yeah, he could see why that would be annoying at some point. Still, that wasn’t the real issue here. Or, well, was it really an issue? He cleared his throat. 
“I- I don’t take you as someone who would let her feelings get the best of her. And, to be honest, I’m not really the type of guy you should have a crush on, Y/N. But, uh, I’m still very flattered. And I don’t think this would stop me from moving in, as you said, we are both desperate.”
You were surprised and it showed. Seokmin chuckled.
“Or do you not want me here?”
“No! I do, I really need you to move in,” you said, tugging a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Seokmin nodded again. 
“Then it’s settled. I’ll get my stuff asap and then we’ll be roomies.”
“Can’t wait!”
*
Seungkwan thought you were insane. He hadn’t known it was Seokmin when Mingyu had approached him and now he regretted ever offering it. 
“What do you mean you told him?!” He was sitting at your small dinner table in the living room. You shrugged. 
“What was I supposed to do? Just let him move in and carry this huge ass secret with me all the time? I don’t think so.”
“You could have just told him no, Y/N.”
“Right, and then what? I see him in class every other day? How awkward would that be?”
“You mean as awkward as living with a guy who knows you have a crush on him?!” When you shrugged again, Seungkwan groaned, pulling his hands over his face.
“You’re seriously insane, I can’t believe you did this!”
And about a week after Seokmin had officially moved in, you couldn’t believe it either. 
Living with Seokmin proved to do the exact opposite of what you had mentioned in your chat with him. He wasn’t a slob. And he also didn’t listen to any podcast on full volume. He cleaned, cooked, gave you space. Every morning he got up earlier than you and prepared coffee, before going out for a jog - only to come back while you were having breakfast, looking all sweaty and sexy. The first time this had happened you had choked on your toast, drinking what felt like one whole liter of orange juice before finally being able to stop coughing. Seokmin had hit your back a few times, apologizing for startling you. And yet, he didn’t stop doing it, which made you used to it after a while (it didn’t).  
Instead of falling out of love with him, you found yourself drawn to him even more, craving his presence. When he was gone, you missed him, and when he was home you wanted to hear everything about his day, wanted to eat dinner with him, watch a new episode of that show you had started together. 
*
Seokmin was outside in the living room, his laptop placed on his lap, an essay he needed to proof read opened as he sipped on a can of beer. He was on his favorite spot on the floor, right in front of the couch, leaning his back against it. Actually, he had wanted to go to sleep an hour ago, but then he had talked with his sister on the phone and now he was back to this. It had been two months since he had moved in with you despite knowing you had feelings for him. Back when you had originally told him, he had felt like he should probably run because the last thing he needed right now was complicated. Things with Hyorin had been complicated enough. But, as he now knew, you weren’t complicated in the slightest. More so the opposite. It didn’t take long for Seokmin to begin to understand you and your patterns. It also didn’t take long for him to figure out how much you actually liked him. If he had been anyone else he might have taken advantage of that. Flirt with you, get you into his bed. But he was Seokmin, he wasn’t a guy who would do that. Not that he hadn’t… thought about it. Seeing the way you looked at him, especially after his morning runs or when he came back from the gym in the evening… it took everything in him not to imagine you looking at him that way when he was fucking you. 
Seokmin wasn’t a sex-hungry person, normally. Maybe because he had been in a long-term relationship for five years. But now, with his relationship being over for two months and the periods before that being dry in the sex department… he was starting to miss it. Dearly. 
So, when he sat there on the floor, his head focusing on the contents of this essay he wrote a day earlier in the library, he couldn’t really help getting distracted by the sounds coming from your room. His ears perked up and his head turned sideways, throat already drying up. Were you crying? Maybe you were-
“O-oh.”
His laptop slipped from his lap when he got up. His heart speed rose and sweat was starting to form on his hairline. That certainly wasn’t the type of crying he had meant. Slowly, he walked over to the door of your room that he only now realized wasn’t properly shut. He felt bad, guilty even, when he peeked through the small opening, seeing you apparently asleep. A dream? He licked his lips. Were you dreaming? 
“S-Seokmin.” 
Something inside him switched over. His whole body started to heat up, his cock desperately beginning to twitch in his briefs. Fuck, he hadn’t ever expected that hearing you moan his name would do so much. You were dreaming, yes, about him. And he heard you, heard you moaning, the whimpers. And god, did you sound perfect. He leaned against the wall next to your room, letting his dick get harder with every second, waiting for your noises like an addict. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t get himself to move away and mind his own business. He was intoxicated by you. He took everything he could, every breath, as small as they might be. The sighs following the moan of his name. 
For now, he only listened. He didn’t want to touch himself here, didn’t want to be that type of person. But then again, he had already parked himself right outside your room, listening to you having a wet dream, it wasn’t like beginning to jerk off would make much of a difference. So, he slowly moved his hand, palming himself over his sweats, feeling how hard he was because of you. He closed his eyes, ears concentrating only on you. He wondered what you were dreaming about. What was he doing to you right now? Was he holding you down as he fucked you? Was he going down on you, tasting you? God, he really wanted to taste you. 
For a second he contemplated going in and waking you up - making your dream reality. But he couldn’t. Not knowing what he did. 
Opening his eyes, he suddenly felt guilt rushing over him and he was quick to close your door, making his way over to where he had sat earlier and grabbing his laptop. 
Once he was in his own room, door locked and all, he tried to clear his head of the sounds you had made, of the way it was him you were dreaming about. But with his cock this hard and you so close… it was no use. He put his laptop on his desk and laid down on his bed after, taking a deep breath. He couldn’t hear you from his room and, god, was he relieved. Not hearing you did not equal not remembering you, though. And so, knowing he was going to lose to his conscience anyways, he opened the drawer in his bedside table and got out the package of lube, squeezing a bit on his right hand, while the left shoved down his sweats and briefs, letting his erection hit the cool air of his room. 
He sighed in relief when his right hand began squeezing him, head leaned back into the pillows, hand now moving up and down slowly. You were right there in front of his inner eye, the way you sounded, but also the image of how you would look underneath him. Moaning his name, begging him to go faster. Then, he imagined your cheek stuffed with his cock, imagined your teary eyes when he began fucking down your throat. 
“F-fuck,” he couldn’t help but go faster, his hips lifting up his bed as he fucked his fist, wishing it was your pussy or your mouth, any of your holes would do. How badly he wanted to hear you beg, wanted you to be on your knees, mouth open and tongue out, ready to take whatever he was willing to give. Pouty lips and round eyes, wishing for nothing more than Seokmin’s cock filling you up. 
“God, just like that, Y/N, f-fuck,” he couldn’t help but moan as he came, his load landing on his clothed chest. 
Coming down from his high, Seokmin opened his eyes, blinking a few times before he really understood what had happened. Groaning, he let his left hand rub over his face, before he shook his head and sat up. He got rid of his shirt and threw it in the laundry bin, walking to the door unlocking and opening it to go to the bathroom - only to run into you who just came out of the bathroom. Your eyes grew wide when you spotted Seokmin - shirtless and sweaty and with this certain look in his eyes that made your legs grow weaker. 
Not knowing what he was doing, Seokmin walked straight over to you, his hands finding the sides of your neck, his lips crashing into yours a second later. You didn’t know what was happening, didn’t know what to do - but you kissed him back, your hands on his broad back, as he pushed you against the wall, his meaty perfect thigh shoved between your legs now, pressing against your still sensitive core. You gasped into the kiss, his tongue now devouring yours, one of his hands moving down and underneath your shirt, grabbing your breast and squeezing it harshly. Your arms locked around his neck, moans getting caught by his skillful mouth. Were you still dreaming? 
“Seokmin,” you moaned when his hand squeezed your nipple and only then did he realize what was happening. Immediately, he parted from you, causing you to miss his kiss and touch the second he left. 
“What-,” you began, but before you could even finish the question, he had already turned around and walked back into his room, closing the door behind him. And locking it. 
*
He acted like nothing happened. You were anxiously waiting in the kitchen the next morning, but once he came back from his run he just showed you his normal goofy self, excusing himself to go take a  shower. The way you had stood there, fully ready (not really) to talk about the night before, still in your pjs, still dizzy from the dream you had had as well as the very real kiss afterward. Why had he done that? Had he suddenly turned into a sleepwalker? A sleepwalker that kissed his roommate as if he had been starving? 
You sure as hell weren’t going to bring it up first. So, you played along, pretending like it didn’t happen. 
“I am declaring you clinically insane, Y/N,” Seungkwan was munching away on his corndog, while you and his (not) boyfriend Hansol sat opposite him at one of the smaller booths of the diner.
“He started it,” you shrugged, grabbing your own corndog now to take a bite from it.
“Okay, and? You could have started the conversation. For example: “Hey roomie, so about that night where you came out of your room clearly just done with getting yourself off and then kissed me? Like really hard? Against a wall?” See, that would have been a great conversation starter.”
You deadpanned at him.
“You’re an idiot,” shaking your head, you leaned back in your seat, “what if he really like, I don’t know, was in a delirious state? Maybe he drank alone before bed and just had a black out?”
“Or maybe he is an asshole who can’t own up to his actions,” Seungkwan shrugged, “but sure, yours sounds way more likely.”
“Seungkwan is right, Y/N. You should just bring it up,” Hansol looked at you and you sighed, letting your head drop onto the table.
“I don’t think I can. I’m too mortified. What if he totally regrets kissing me and that’s why he is pretending like it didn’t happen?”
“That still doesn’t give him permission to act this way. I don’t care if he is deeply in love with you or hates you, I just want him to be humane enough to tell you.”
It stung, the way he was right. Whatever Seokmin was feeling, he had to share it with you. He couldn’t just- 
“Am I going crazy or is Seokmin standing outside?” You raised your head again, eyes wide when you realized you were, in fact, not going crazy. Seokmin was right there outside the diner, on the other side of the street, his phone in his hand, an anxious look on his face.
“Did you tell him you were coming here?” Hansol asked and you shook your head.
“No, we barely saw each other this morning.”
What was he doing here? And why did he look like he would rather be anywhere else? Your eyes scanned the surroundings, a sour feeling suddenly spreading in your guts. You were only a few streets down from your apartment, the street wasn’t exactly busy but had some really good places to eat. This was the perfect meeting spot for-
“Who’s that?” Seungkwan shifted closer to the window next to you, his eyes squeezed together as if he was trying harder to recognise whoever had just shown up next to Seokmin. You didn’t have to know her to… know her. Hyorin. His ex-girlfriend that had cheated on him. He had mentioned her to you only a few times, you being a little reluctant to ask considering he knew how you felt about him. But from what you had gathered he hated her, never wanted to see her again. So why was he here now? With her?
“Is that…?” Seungkwan looked over at you, worry displayed on his face and you pressed your lips together as you nodded. 
She was beautiful. Tall, long silky black hair. Her skin glowing even from here. She was the girl Seokmin should be kissing in his delirious state, in any state, really. You swallowed down the tears that threatened to spill out and averted your gaze. Your appetite had left you and you wanted nothing more than to flee the scene, go home and never think of this moment again.
“Should we leave?” Hansol asked, looking over at Seungkwan a little helplessly. Seungkwan nodded quickly and his (not) boyfriend grabbed your arm and helped you get out of the booth. As much as you felt like yelling at him that you didn’t need this help, as much did you appreciate the gesture. Seungkwan paid at the front desk and you left the diner, your heart in desperate need for some distraction. 
*
When Seokmin got home that evening, you weren’t there. A part of him was relieved while another one already missed your presence. Sighing, he kicked off his shoes and finally slipped down onto the couch, hands rubbing over his face. This whole thing was a mess. Today was a mess. Hyorin had called him and asked him to meet up and because he was who he was he had said yes. He should have known she would just try to apologize for the nth time, telling him it had only happened once and that he was the only one for her. Little did she know that he gave zero fucks at this point. He didn’t want her anymore, he didn’t love her anymore. She had broken his heart and stomped on it, had lied and cheated, had done all these horrible things to him. And yet, he was somewhat grateful because now he was right here. In your apartment. 
It was silly, really, because he had been dating Hyorin for two years already when he saw you the first time. You and your cute gray sweatshirt and the high ponytail. You, who had been the cutest person in every single one of your classes together. You, who he couldn’t develop feelings for because he had a girlfriend. Unlike Hyorin, he wasn’t a cheater. He had loved her, truly loved her. And he had been shattered when he found out about the other guy, feeling like he could never be fixed again. He had to get out of the shared apartment, had to leave it all behind as soon as he possibly could - and he had somehow ended up on your doorstep. It was crazy how the universe worked. 
And as if that hadn’t been enough, you suddenly confessed to him, turning all of his feelings upside down. Because what was he supposed to say? Supposed to do? God, he was heartbroken over Hyorin and yet there was this ray of light in the shape of a girl that loved to spend her evenings watching trashy teen drama and cry over a bucket of Ben & Jerry’s when a character you didn’t even particularly like died on screen. 
Seokmin didn’t want to allow him to like you. He was scared that maybe you liking him altered his brain chemistry, that perhaps he would want to be with you only as a rebound and you were too good, too perfect to be anything of that kind. And so, when that night had happened and he had lost his composure, he knew he messed up. He knew you had feelings for him, god, he probably would have figured it out even if you hadn’t told him. Not just because of the dream he had overheard but because of the way you looked at him. The way you smiled, the way you laughed. He didn’t want you to look at anyone else like that. 
The sound of a door unlocking filled the quiet room now and was soon joined by the giggles of a girl and the nervous laugh of a guy - and both of these voices were familiar to Seokmin. He immediately got up and walked over to the entry way - only to see Mingyu holding your waist as you, obviously drunk, tried to get out of your shoes.
“Mingyu?” Seokmin asked confusedly.
“Oh, hey Seok,” Mingyu said, holding you steady as you felt your knees giving in. 
“What- what is going on?” 
“We met at a bar, she was with Seungkwan and his boyfriend-,”
“He is not his boyfriend!” you interrupted him with a giggle.
“Uh, right, Seungkwan and his not-boyfriend were also super drunk and I called them a cab, but I really didn’t want to send Y/N home on her own so-,”
“Why didn’t you call me?” Seokmin now came closer, his eyes set on his best friend’s hand around your waist, his insides slowly but surely heating up with something he could only recognize as jealousy.
“Uh, I thought you were busy with… you know.”
Seokmin’s jaw tensed, his eyes fixed on Mingyu who had successfully held you down as you stepped out of your shoes.
“That has been resolved hours ago, Mingyu.”
“And how was he supposed to know that, hm?” The sudden sound of your voice made both men look over at you. Your hand was raised, finger pointed at Seokmin accusingly. 
“Y/N-“, Mingyu started, but you shook your head and finally freed yourself from Mingyu’s grasp.
“No! No, I’m tired of this! Was it nice? Seeing your perfect ex again? Do you want to go back to her now? Move out and act like I don’t exist? Like you didn’t kiss me?”
Mingyu held his breath. You had told him all this in the bar earlier, where he had met you and Seungkwan and Hansol and where he had realized that you were madly in love with his best friend. He felt bad about you having seen Seokmin with Hyorin, but even more did he feel bad because it was also so painfully obvious that Seokmin liked you, too. 
“I think you’re drunk,” Seokmin noted and you laughed, throwing your hands in the air. Mingyu stayed quiet.
“Do you, now? How observant of you, Seokmin.”
The two of you were staring at each other now, fury in both your eyes. Honestly, you didn’t know what he was angry about. After all you weren’t the one running back to her ex after kissing him the way he had you. 
“I, uh, I guess I should go now,” Mingyu pointed at the door with his thumb over his shoulder, “you seem to… well, have a lot to talk about.” 
The normally so cheerful and kind Seokmin didn’t wish his best friend a good night, nor did he even look at him when he left. Instead he kept looking at you, saw the way you waved at Mingyu and thanked him, your hand squeezing his arm. Lightning was shooting through him. Jealousy was about to eat him up, was about to make him grab you and yell that you shouldn’t touch Mingyu like that. It was dumb and he knew it. You made him crazy, you made him dumb. Like a teenager who was in love for the first time, unsure what to make of it. 
Once the door had fallen shut, you stormed past your roommate, ready to enter your room and not leave it until the next day. Just that you didn’t get far. Seokmin ended up grabbing your arm after all, his touch burning on your skin. 
“Mingyu is right, we do have a lot to talk about,” he said in a hushed voice, making you scoff. 
“Fine, then talk.” With whatever willpower you had left, you looked at him. Saw the way his eyes were full of an emotion you couldn’t pinpoint - the fury from before still slightly visible but not alone. Perhaps it was anger for you speaking to him the way you had. Or maybe he was just annoyed at you for being drunk and loud and stupid. 
“Look, Y/N. What happened between us was… it shouldn’t have happened, alright?”
“Why? Because you’re back together with your cheating ex?”
“No! God, no, I would never get back with Hyorin. And I can’t believe Mingyu told you about this and-,”
“He didn’t!” You freed yourself out of his grip, your eyes dangerously beginning to prickle, “I saw you. With her.” 
He inhaled audibly - he hadn’t expected this. You saw him? With Hyorin? No wonder you were this upset. He pulled his hand through his hair.
“She wanted to talk things out. And because I’m too nice of a person I told her yes. Y/N, I don’t want to be with her anymore. She broke my heart, she hasn’t been the girl I fell in love with for ages now.” 
“Why did you kiss me?” If you were honest, you didn’t really care about when Hyorin had stopped being the girl Seokmin loved. You were more interested in whether you were. 
“I shouldn’t have done that.” 
Pang. Your face flinched before your jaw tensed. 
“Right,” your voice was smaller than you had wanted it to be, and the tears were even closer to spilling now. Of course he regretted it. Regretted kissing you, regretted making you feel the way you had. Because why would it be any different? Perhaps you should have tried to hook up with Mingyu tonight just to feel something different than this ache inside of you. 
“I just- fuck, I just don’t want to take advantage of you. Of what you feel for me.”
Now, the tears of hurt were quickly changing to tears of anger. This man really had a talent in making you switch emotions in seconds. 
“Excuse me? You- what?” You laughed bitterly, shaking your head, “don’t do this. Don’t make yourself look like a hero because you stepped back from kissing me. You did that because you wanted to. I didn’t come onto you even once in all the time you’ve been living here. So don’t you dare pin this on me or my feelings.” You hated that you began to shake and that your voice was higher than anticipated. You hated that the way he looked at you made you feel small and idiotic, made you feel as if you were the dumbest person on this earth. Instead of waiting for his response, you turned around on your heel, walking into your room and slamming the door shut behind you.
*
No one wanted to be in Seokmin’s shoes right now. After your fight he had also retreated back to his room, not exactly sure how to ever face you again. A day later he was at lunch with Mingyu, Cheol and Joshua and they all looked at him like he had suddenly grown three heads. 
“I can’t believe you said that,” Joshua judged, shaking his head. Seokmin sighed, throwing his napkin on the table. 
“Come on, was it really that bad?”
“Yes,” all three of his friends said in union, all their eyes on him, no sign of humor. Seokmin swallowed. 
“I really thought I was doing the right thing,” he mumbled now, letting his head fall, eyes studying the pattern of the wooden table.
“By doing what? Pushing away a girl that’s absolutely crazy about you? That has been nothing but kind and wonderful towards you? That you very obviously have feelings for?” Mingyu snorted, crossing his arms, “no, that most certainly wasn’t the right thing to do, Seokmin.”
While Seokmin stayed silent, Seungcheol and Joshua nodded, telling Seokmin, once again, that he was an idiot. It was no use, though. He already knew he was! He knew he had messed up and even though a part of him still thought that, maybe, his intention had been noble, the part was slowly but surely getting kicked out. 
“And what do you expect me to do? I can’t just go up to her and tell her that I was wrong for saying that. She doesn’t even talk to me!”
“Can’t really blame her, can you?” Seungcheol took a sip from his iced tea.
“Look, it’s only been a day. Let her calm down, give her space. Give yourself some more time to come up with the right thing to say. I’m sure it will be fine, you and Y/N will be fine.”
And as much as Seokmin appreciated the tough love followed by Joshua’s words of affirmation, he wasn’t sure it was really helping him. In fact, he wasn’t sure what could help him considering you started ignoring him from then on, even avoiding your shared space to either stay at Seungkwan’s place or just come home once Seokmin was already in bed. Every class you had together, you would sit right by one of the doors, arriving at the latest and leaving as soon as possible. Whilst Seokmin was trying his hardest to come up with a way to apologize to you, to win you back, you were trying your best to forget about your feelings for him. And for the most part it was even successful - you being mad at him and feeling like an idiot whenever you thought about the kiss you two had shared. But then again, only for the most part. 
“You can’t just force yourself out of love with someone,” Seungkwan said on the nth night you’ve been sitting on his couch, a bucket of ice cream in your arms, the AC on the highest setting because, holy hell, was it hot outside. 
“I can try,” you shrugged, staring at the TV screen. Seungkwan sighed, letting his eyes wander over your frame. You didn’t look your best, the hurt definitely coming through with bags under your eyes, your hair looking frizzy, the shirt you were wearing a stain right in the middle and when he had asked you about it, you couldn’t even tell him where that had come from. 
So, when he got a call from Kim Mingyu two days later, he was eager as ever to meet up and hopefully get you off his couch. 
The setting was in a small coffee shop, Seokmin seated nervously next to Mingyu who had ordered an iced americano for each of them. Seungkwan looked from one handsome guy to the other, clearing his throat.
“So, I’m guessing this is about Y/N?” he raised a brow and Mingyu quickly nodded, while Seokmin shifted on his seat, hands clasped around his plastic cup. 
“Yup. Do you have any idea what Seok over here can do to, you know, get her to speak to him again?” Mingyu pointed at Seokmin with his thumb and Seungkwan chuckled as he watched Seokmin slap the thumb away, his cheeks a bright red.
“I’m sorry, I would’ve never come to you about this, but I’m desperate at this point. She is never home and when she is, she makes it her mission to not even acknowledge my existence.”
“Yeah, when she’s not home she is at my place. And let me tell you, it’s getting incredibly annoying, considering I have a “not-boyfriend” that I’d really like to invite over,” clicking his tongue, Seungkwan leaned back and grabbed his own beverage, taking a sip from the bright blue straw, “so, I am more than happy to help.”
For a few minutes they brainstormed, Mingyu suggesting that maybe Seokmin should just ambush her, maybe get a pair of handcuffs and- yeah, he was shut down by both Seokmin and Seungkwan rather quickly. Seokmin said that maybe he should just continue texting her and that perhaps she’d come around, but Seungkwan shook his head, telling him there was no use, he had never met anyone worse at texting and reading texts than his best friend. 
After a moment of silence in which they all seemed a bit defeated, Seungkwan watched Mingyu take out his phone and open a message he had received on instagram. The only blonde at the table had never been quicker to sit up and almost knock over his drink.
“I know what you have to do.” 
-
It had been two weeks since you had last talked to Seokmin and for once you were inside your apartment, knowing that he was at class while yours had been canceled. It was nice to be back home during day time for a change, your feet propped up on the small coffee table in front of the sofa. A book in your lap that you had discarded for a bit to check your phone, only to be hit in the face by a cruel, cruel reality. The book slipped off your lap as you withdrew your legs from the table and instead kneeled on the couch, both hands gripping your phone tightly. 
“He has got to be joking,” you mumbled, feeling dizzy as you stared at the mirror pic Seokmin had posted half an hour ago. He hadn’t posted in months. Basically since he and Hyerin had broken up. His insta was mainly blank except for a few pictures he had taken of pretty sceneries. Never had he ever posted gym selfies. No. That had been Mingyu, showing off Seokmin’s body in his pictures as well as his own. 
To be fair, there wasn’t much body to see on the selfie. It was him in the gym, his long sleeved shirt rolled up above his elbows, showing enough arm to make you head feel crazy. His left hand was holding his phone, his fingers spread over it and, fuck, his hand. His hair was just slightly messy, his jaw and neck on full display and you forgot how to breathe. Arousal pooled in between your legs now and you honestly couldn’t even understand why. Perhaps, you thought, because this was the first time you had seen his face in almost two weeks and this picture just fed into all of your small kinks about him. Swallowing hard, you licked your lips and continued to bury your teeth into the bottom one, your pussy already throbbing. How pathetic. Little did you know you were about to become even more pathetic. Only now did your eyes spot the small symbol on the right side of the post, signaling you that there wasn’t just one picture. With a throat as dry as the desert, you clicked back on the post, a shaking index finger swiping to the left, only to be met by what could only be described as worse. There you had the body you had so desperately wished for. Leaned back on what you assumed to be a bench press, his legs adjourned in baggy jeans you had seen him wear a handful of times. Back then you had been happy to not see them on him this much because for whatever reason he was even more sexy in them. They weren’t even tight (as baggy jeans already suggested), but they still seemed to fit him perfectly. And now, with him manspreading over a bench in the gym, the red-white shirt with a car race theme, sleeves still rolled up, one arm hanging over his right thigh, holding onto the black leather beneath him, showing off a pretty vein you could literally already feel underneath your tongue. He was crazy. Crazy and mean and horrible and you knew all of this on purpose. His fingers on display, his thighs looking so big in those god forsaken jeans. Hair messy, jawline looking so sharp you were sure it could cut glass.
And as if all of this wasn’t bad enough, you suddenly heard the door clicking open. Your head jerked up, your eyes wide and your cheeks flushed burgundy. When you saw Seokmin walk through the door and finally into the living room, you felt your phone slip from your hand and onto the couch. He was carrying a gym bag, his hair still slightly damp. His skin was glowing and his eyes were widened in surprise. He most definitely hadn’t expected to see you.
“I thought you had class?” He said, his gym bag dropping onto the floor next to him. You slowly got up from the couch.
“Got canceled. Yours?” 
“Same.”
Nodding, you came to a stop in front of him, his tall figure towering over you, your chest heaving, head clouded by the smell of his cologne, of the knowledge he had posted that picture most definitely to get to you. With a heartbeat the speed of light, you looked into his eyes.
“Did Seungkwan tell you to post those pictures?” you whispered. Seokmin hesitated. Then he nodded. 
“Did it work?” he asked, head slightly tilted to the side. 
Instead of answering, your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down to crash your lips against his. Seokmin immediately reacted, hands on the small of your back, pushing you closer. This kiss was different from the first, not less exciting or dizzying, but you felt more in control, felt more like this was it, this was what you had craved for so long. 
Seokmin, meanwhile, was on cloud nine, your lips feeling so incredible on his. For him this was all he had wanted for the last weeks and while he had gotten that small taste back then, nothing could have prepared him for what he was feeling right now. All sense of self control left his body as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding over your bottom lip, asking to be let in. Once your tongues touched, there was no way in hell this was going to end. You moaned into his mouth, your nails digging into his skin while he moved his hands down, wrapping around your thighs to lift you up. Instinctively your legs swung around him, his hands leaving burns where he touched you. 
He moved over to the couch where you had sat before, sitting down with you now straddling him, both of your hands roaming around the other’s body. You let your fingers slide under his shirt and together you took it off, lips parting momentarily and letting you admire his toned chest, his abs and shoulders. You took your sweet time, fingers caressing his skin while your lips latched onto his neck, sucking harshly. Seokmin moaned, one hand on the back of your head, while the other laid on your thigh. 
With every passing second you felt yourself grow wetter, your hips beginning to grind down, both of your clothed crotches meeting, making both of you even more desperate. Seokmin grabbed your face, kissing you passionately once more, thumbs on either side of your cheeks. You whimpered when you felt him buck up, his erection already making your head spin. Never had you ever wanted anyone as bad. Finally, his hands moved to take off your shirt, leaving you in shorts and nothing else. A groan escaped him, hands all over your breasts, lips sucking your hard nipple inside his mouth, your head falling back, hands digging into his scalp. He was devouring your tits one at a time, hands squeezing them harshly as you couldn’t help but move your hips against him.
“S-Seokmin, please,” you whined, the arousal literally audible. Hearing you say his name like this… Seokmin parted from your chest and instead looked up at you. 
“Seungkwan told me something,” he whispered, one hand now moving down, while the other was back on your face, “he told me you take a… certain liking to my fingers.” The smirk on his face made you forget to kill Seungkwan later. You licked over your lips, biting down on it after, only to let out a small gasp when his right hand slipped into your shorts, pressing down on the wet spot between your legs. He sucked in a breath.
“Fuck, arren’t you wet for me, angel?” He whispered, while his other hand moved to your lips now, his eyebrows shooting up as he held eye contact. You knew what he wanted and you were more than eager to oblige. Parting your lips and stretching out your tongue, Seokmin felt himself twitch as he laid his index and middle finger on top of your tongue.
“Suck,” he then ordered you and without thinking twice, you did as asked. The fingers were long and thin and perfect and your eyes rolled back when you felt him press down on your tongue, his eyes becoming a little crazier with every passing second. 
“Both your holes stuffed with my fingers, what do you think?” his voice made goosebumps erupt all over your body, moaning around his digits while nodding wildly. Seokmin chuckled, not saying anything as he shoved your panties to the side, your hips almost automatically lifting so he could coat himself in your juice, his cock growing harder with every inch of him that got blessed with your arousal. 
“Think you can take two already?” when you nodded again, he immediately let his pretty fingers sink into you, both of you moaning at the contact. He sank in as deep as he could, until every bit was inside of you, knuckles deep, making him feel like he was either going to cum in his pants or simply explode. 
“God, you feel so fucking good, angel. Common, fuck yourself on my fingers and don’t forget to suck.” 
Your body began moving right away. Your mouth was sucking his fingers as if they were his cock, tongue pressing, tongue flicking against them. Head bobbing back and forth as your hips moved up and down on his other hand, his fingers feeling heavenly inside your walls. And when he put his thumb on your clit, you were sure the heavenly feeling would soon get you to cum all over him. 
“Good girl, doing so well for me, fuck,” Seokmin felt his throat dry up, sweat forming on the top of his head. How badly he wanted to fuck you right now, just get his fingers out and replace them with his throbbing cock - but he wanted to take his time with you. He wanted to see you live out your dream with his fingers buried inside of you, with your saliva coating his one hand and your perfect, sweet arousal the other. He wanted to see you come undone like this, fucking yourself on his fingers, before he took you the way he wanted, making you scream his name and beg him to make you cum with his cock. 
You felt your orgasm closing in on you, your movements becoming sloppier, eyes rolled back and the fingers in your mouth almost forgotten. Once Seokmin noticed, he grinned, beginning to fuck them inside your mouth himself, a high pitched moan escaping you and making another bit of precum shoot out of Seokmin’s cock. 
“Yeah, are you close, baby? Come on, I know you want to cum for me.” He leaned forward, the angle of his fingers changing slightly, hitting you right where you needed him and when his lips began kissing and licking at your neck, you couldn’t help but cum hard, your pussy clenching around his fingers over and over again, milking yourself for all you had. 
“Fuck,” he was in a daze, pulling both sets of fingers outside your holes, eyes searching for yours, before closing his lips around the fingers that had just made you cum so beautifully. You whimpered, pussy throbbing at the sight of him licking your arousal from his own digits. 
“Seokmin…,” you cried out and he pulled his fingers back, instead shooting forward now to kiss you again. You could taste yourself on his lips, hands now back around his neck, eyes closed shut as he kissed you with delicious desperation. 
“Fuck me on the windowsill, Seok, please.” 
He parted from you only for a second, before nodding and kissing you again, getting up with your legs wrapped around him, finally placing you on the narrow sill, hands gripping your shorts and panties and pulling them off your legs. You watched as he opened his own jeans next, letting them fall to the floor before finally revealing what you had only imagined so far. You couldn’t help but stare, your mouth watering at the sight of his big cock, all red at the tip and veiny, thick and a little bent to the left. Oh, how much you wanted him to ruin you. 
“I can’t wait to fuck you, baby,” he purred now, arms back around your body, lips closing around yours again. Every inch of you was on fire, your hands immediately finding his cock, one grabbing his balls, while the other was around his girth, moving up to let your thumb slide over his slit. He twitched in your hand, a beautiful moan coming out his mouth that had you shivering. Spreading your legs further, you brought his leaking cock to your lips, letting the tip circle your clit for a bit, both of you moaning into the other's mouth, before finally lining him up with your sopping core.
“Please, fuck me, I need you so bad,” your voice was muffled against his lips and he nodded, replacing your hand with his to push inside you, the stretch having your nails dig into his shoulders, whimpers escaping your pink lips as he lowered himself into you until he bottomed out, his forehead now pressing against yours.
“You feel so good, so perfect around me, baby,” he kissed you softly, hands sliding over your sides up to your tits, and once he began squeezing them again, his lips finding yours, he began thrusting, first deep and hard, before he quickened, your legs pulling him even closer. He was perfect. The way he held you, the way his thumb was on your nipple, lips now sucking on the sensitive skin on your neck, cock fucking you deep and hard and quick, leaving no room for complaints. You didn’t know how to ever stop moaning his name, how to be quiet, how to not have your body already signal another climax. 
“A-am close,” you whined and Seokmin nodded, head now in between your neck and shoulder, kissing every inch of your skin. Nothing had ever felt this good, no sex with anyone had ever made him feel as if  he was going to cum within seconds, while also wanting it to never end. He sped up once more, hands back on your face as he wanted to cum with your tongue inside his mouth, with your lips claimed as his. You tried to match his pace, desperate and breathy moans filling the air that already smelled like nothing but sex. There was nothing you could do to prevent the orgasm rushing over you, your walls clenching around his cock over and over again, his movements getting sloppier with every second, your and his salivas mixing, running over both your chins when he finally sucked your tongue into his mouth as he came, hot white cum spreading in your pussy that now milked him for all he had, every little drop as precious as the other. 
“Fuck, oh my god,” Seokmin breathed into your mouth, his hands caressing your hair as he kissed your neck, both of you slowly getting down from your highs. You two stayed like this for a while. Him, kissing your neck, your shoulders, your chin and finally your lips. It suddenly feels like everything has fallen into place perfectly, like this is what should have happened the first time he ever stepped into place, maybe even when you first laid eyes on him three years ago. He stays inside you, your combined releases only slowly dripping out of you. How could he make you feel this precious? This fragile in the best way?
“Y/N…”, he then whispers after a while, his hands next to you on the sill, his eyes so soft and yet full of guilt. For a second you think he regrets having done this but then you hear his next words.
“I’m so sorry I pushed you away. I never should have done that. I was scared of my own feelings and of taking advantage of you, and I get now that I should have just talked to you about this instead of acting like I was protecting you when in reality I was just protecting myself,” he caressed your face, a stray lock of hair finds it’s way behind your ear by his finger.
“I get it. And I’m sorry too, for, you know, completely shutting you out.” You smile weakly and Seokmin chuckles, kissing your cheek again.
“I would have done the same. So, you forgive me?”
“Isn’t you coming inside me enough reason to believe I have?” You tease him with a slight grin and he turns red, looking down at him still buried inside your warmth. 
“Thank you. For forgiving me,” he looks up at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “and also for letting me cum inside you.” 
You start laughing, pushing him away slightly by the shoulder and your heart seems to jump out of your chest when he kisses you again. You were sure  that you’ll never get tired of doing this. 
-
“So, if i want you to get turned on I’ll just need to post more gym pics?” Seokmin’s arm was around you, both of you freshly out of the shower seated on the couch. You scoffed, but felt your cheeks heat up.
“Shut up,” you couldn’t help but smile though, the fact he was so close to you, holding you. It was all too much but in the best way possible. You never wanted to let this man go again. 
“You’re so cute when you’re flustered”, he giggled now, and god, had you ever heard a more adorable sound? You doubted it. Just when you were about to respond (mainly to tell him to shut up again), you heard your phone ring. Looking over Seokmin’s lap, you saw your phone where you’d left it. He followed your gaze and grabbed your phone for you, a knowing smile on his lips.
“If we were to unlock this now, what would we find, hm?”
Ignoring him, you finally picked up. It was Seungkwan.
“Hi traitor,” you said, eyebrows raised. Seungkwan scoffed on the other side.
“Oh please, you can’t tell me y’all didn’t fuck.”
Seokmin, who was very obnoxiously leaning in closer to hear the conversation, giggled again, his cheeks turning rosy. You rolled your eyes.
“Doesn’t mean I appreciate you spilling my kinks to people you barely know.”
“You know you do kind of love me for it though. So, you two together now?” You froze in place, while your eyes moved very slowly to look at Seokmin. What you saw made your stomach turn and twist and tumble and millions of butterflies suddenly started dancing Gangnam Style. His eyes were so fond, his features soft, the rose on his cheeks now accented by his bright perfect smile. When he nodded, his hand coming to caress your head, you couldn’t help but smile the brightest you ever had.
“As a matter of fact, yes. Yes, we are.”
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astralnymphh · 1 month
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๋࣭ ⭑⚝ thinking about the first night at ellie's place ever since you two began dating. girl will bust her ass off preparing to host you there— in the entertainment department of things. fluff!!
. MASTERLIST . DAILY CLICK . IMPORTANT TLOU POST . PALESTINE INFO . BIG TEXT VERSION
she heaps up a myriad of her favorite pastimes in a kaleidoscopic pile on her bed, assuming the waken hours preluding the "main event" (sleeping) will integrate every little thing pre-planned. legit jots a loose schedule of everything she wants to do in a sequestered corner of her journal, and it's surrounded by detailed doodles (that we dare not discuss how long she spent perfecting them) of shooting stars and other cartoony likenesses of paraphernalia or things that you're interested in/remind her of you. spends a fat wad of the initial hours urging you into every activity based on, quote for quote: "ellie's epic design for her first night-over with her girlfriend in hopes that she doesn't mess things up" proof is in the notebook, trust. word for word. anyways, ellie legit believes she can usher you into each thing planned, like, come rain or come shine— everything will be mentioned. bit erratically if anything, poor girl has her nerves amped up since it's her first time having you over, the unfolding of opportunities is unpredictable. shit like, "hey babe i got us a two-player video game." and then it gradually gets more jumpy, "oh, oh yeah, i wanted to sketch you, wait— c'mere, sit on the bed." and thereon it transforms out of the blue, "ughhhh i'm so tired." and she flops back onto the bed exaggeratedly like starfish position, eaglespread limbs and everything. then you clamber on afterwards and pronto you have to confront her, softly for her enervated brain to pick up, "el, did you have some bucket list of things to do in one night?" and her head creaks over like snail-speed, cartoonesque metal grating noise, and her expression is all bug-eyed and flatlined at the lip, sighing kinda guilty but in a silly way, "yeah, uh. shit, was that obvious?" god she's so CUTE. and then it ends up in a really romantic cuddle session where you two just let the conversation take its natural course without any locus of "this is what we're going to do" rather it becomes, "let's listen to what our bodies want to do" and i think that's just very sentimental!!! listening to her instincts to carress and hold you!!! "y'know, like, the first time i kissed you— i kinda wanted to do something like this right after. lay in the grass n' like.. hug eachother.. and stare up." maybe i'll expand on the nature of the cuddle session if people want it. ౨ৎ
love this girl (my photos)
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fullsunstrawberry · 5 months
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PREVIEW
Love Beyond Labels
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synopsis: the misunderstood "rich girl," reveals her academic struggles to a loner with his own challenges. In an unexpected twist, they form a unique friendship—she gets study help, and he gains a true companion.
genre: slice of life, humor, fluff, angst, smut
warnings**: swearing, bullying, joke of “social suicide”, smut (more to be added)
word count: estimated 10k (preview 1k)
release date: December 10th
a/n: thank you guys so much for 2k followers AHHHH so i decided to post my first ever written fanfic…this took forever to write btw lol
taglist open! (18+)
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School is easy, all you have to do is sit there and look pretty. Well, that's what all your classmates thought. They didn't know how difficult school was for you. You never got what was happening in class. Anytime you got an answer wrong, no one batted an eye because who expects the rich pretty girl to get an answer right? But little did they know you would cry in the janitor's room after each time. You just hated feeling so dumb.
"Ugh, I'm not ready for today's test," Jaemin huffed, plopping down beside you.
"Wait, there's a test?" you sighed, already predicting the outcome.
Mr. Moon whispered a half-hearted "good luck" as he handed you the test, before moving on and finishing handing out everyone else’s tests. He already knew how it was going to go. You hated how even the teachers knew you were stupid.
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After the test, you already knew you failed it. You were the last one to turn your test in, when Jaemin asked if you wanted to meet up with him, Jeno, Mark, and Chenle for lunch. You nodded telling him you had to stop at the office real quick.
Instead of walking towards the office, you sped walked to the janitor's closet, already feeling the tears threaten to escape. You knew you failed that test. Even though you acted like you didn’t know you had a test, you lied. You’ve been studying for it for a long time. Even canceling plans. But you would never admit it to anyone. You studied your ass off but still failed, that’s even more pathetic than forgetting about it.
You quickly took out the keys and opened the door quickly so no other student would see it. You thank the janitor for being so forgetful that you could easily steal one of his keys. He has a bunch of copies, one missing wouldn’t hurt. Right as you locked the door you sat in the corner, not even bothering to turn the lights on.
you were always an ugly crier, but it was okay cause you bought the most expensive waterproof makeup for these occasions. Only a quick bathroom stop is needed before meeting your friends for lunch.
As you were drying your tears you heard the door jiggle and then open. you quickly hid your face just in case it was someone you knew.
"Y/N?" a voice you didn't recognize spoke, interrupting your quiet moment in the janitor's closet.
Confused, you wiped your face and looked up at the mystery voice. You kind of recognized the thick black glasses boy in front of you. You knew he was in some of your classes but you couldn’t think of his name.
Fearing the worst you cleared your throat before asking “What do you want?”
“Uh, I don't want anything!" the boy replied, swiftly stepping into the room and closing the door. You noticed he had his lunch tray with him. "This might sound pathetic, but I like to eat my lunch here."
confused, you asked him “Why would you do that?”
“Well I don’t really have friends and I don't want to get picked on” he explained sitting down next to you, not having much of a choice because there wasn’t that much room.
"Oh, I'm sorry for bothering you. I'll just go," you said, preparing to stand up. But before you could, he quickly called out your name, making you look down at him.
"You're not bothering me! You can stay and talk about what's going on. I know we don't talk, but I can listen to you." His hopeful eyes convinced you to sit back down. You quickly wiped away your tears before confiding in him.
“You can’t tell anyone this!“ You put your pinky finger up and put it near him. “promise?
“I don’t have many people to tell” he let out a small laugh while putting his hands up defensively. “promise!” he took your pinky finger in his
“okay” you nodded “I failed my psychology test today”
you looked at his face and he looked confused “What?” you questioned
“Oh it's just, you always fail your tests. Everyone knows that”
As he said that you felt the tears start to come back. Of course, he wouldn’t get it. Why did you ever think he would get it?
“I didn’t mean it like that, I’m so sorry” he panicked “I shouldn’t have said that!”
you turn away, quickly wiping away your tears again. “no I get it, I’m the dumb girl”
"No, no, no, that's not what I meant. Hey, want to hear something embarrassing about me? I'm only here because of a scholarship. That's why no one wants to be friends with me!" he confessed.
you start to giggle “That’s not embarrassing!”
“It made you laugh! But here is something actually embarrassing, my teacher forgot my name today. Even though I've had her for the whole year.”
Your eyes widen, feeling bad that you forgot his name.
“ahh you don’t know my name either”
you smile “If you tell me your name, I’ll forgive you”
“haechan”
“That's a nice name, haechan” You smiled at the way it rolled off your tongue.
“thank you, I have a proposition or a proposal”
“I know what proposition means” you teased
he giggled, “I’ll help you study”
your eyes lit up, “really? What can I do for you?”
he avoided your eyes and cleared his throat “Be my friend”
your eyes softened “That’s not hard, I was going to be your friend after this conversation anyways” You pushed his shoulder.
He finally met your eyes and smiled at you. “then you don’t have to do anything, friends help friends”
As the bell faintly rang, you pulled out your phone. "Here, give me your number so we can talk."
he paused for a second before taking your phone
standing up and thanking him before you quickly left to go touch up your makeup in the bathroom. Reminding yourself you would have to tell Jaemin you were sorry for ditching him and the guys.
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thirstworldproblemss · 6 months
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Fic: Closer
cowritten with @astroboots
Fandom:  Moon Knight Pairing:  Jake Lockley x F reader (x Steven, x Marc) Length:  5.6k words Rating: Explicit 🔞 Warnings:  This fic contains explicit sexual content including dirty talk, spitting, anal play, and anal sex. (That's it. That's the fic.)
Summary: Jake checks an item off his bucket list, and you both thoroughly enjoy yourselves.
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Notes: Many thanks to @guruan who fixed our my extremely questionable Spanish (any remaining mistakes are entirely my fault) and whose deliciously debauched art is a never-ending source of inspiration. More thanks (and uh... oh god, sorry 🙈) to the poor anon who submitted the prompt that spawned this to Cici last Kinktober and had to wait a whole year to see the damn thing. And, of course, ALL my love to my darling cowriter and 🤡💖🤡 sister, @astroboots, who always makes writing a joy, and without whom this never would have been started, finished, or posted at all.
[ twp’s Masterlist  | boots' Masterlist  ]
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Jake hasn’t spent a lot of time in the driver’s seat over the years. For a long time he only fronted on rare occasions. Life or death situations mostly. Those hair-trigger moments when the body is in critical danger and a moment’s hesitation is all it’d take for all three of them to wind up dead. 
Those times when things are too much for Marc or Steven to be able to handle? That’s when it’s Jake’s turn at the wheel. 
It’s why normally the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes, in command of the body, is the source of imminent danger: 
The face of the man who has a knife pressed against the collar of his military uniform in the middle of a desert. 
A panoramic view through the windshield of a truck that is seconds from veering off a winding cliff-side road. 
A long-haired Jim Jones wannabe staring down at him along a glowing walking stick protruding from his own chest. 
But things have been different lately. For one thing, he’s been spending a lot more time fronting, and not just in dangerous situations. 
For another, he’s learning that there’s so much more world out there than he’d ever imagined. There’s Ben & Jerry’s peanut popcorn flavored ice cream, Saturday karaoke nights, Derby Girls and you. 
Always you.
You were just Steven’s girl first, and then somehow against all odds Marc got involved too, and now that Jake’s been allowed a taste, he's never letting you go. You’re his guide to the wide world,  the road map keeping him on the right route, the safe resting place when he’s tired. Su alma, his soul.
And right now you look exhausted. Your thighs shaky and trembling, matted hair glued to your forehead, all of you dripping with sweat and other things. Steven must have really worn you out before he ceded the front. 
Sweet, shy little Steven—Mr. Sunshine—who just fucked you seemingly within an inch of your life before he remembered that he needs to share. 
And Marc thinks Jake is the unhinged one. 
The punch of adrenaline that always comes with fronting is still running through his veins, and he’s already hardening at the sight of you on your stomach, ass up in the air on display for him, Steven’s come just beginning to drip out of you. It doesn’t matter that the body just came, it’s Jake’s turn now. 
He slides his rapidly stiffening cock through your slippery folds, nudging the head against your clit, you and him both slick and sloppy with Steven's come and your own wetness.
“Aaah – Jake,” you gasp sharply into the pillow.
You know it’s him. He doesn’t know how. You haven’t even turned around to look at him, but somehow you just know. You always know. It’s an uncanny magic trick that impresses the hell out of him every time.
Jake grips one side of your ass in his free hand, squeezing hard. You’re all smooth skin and soft flesh under his finger, your cute little asshole peeking up at him. You’d kill him if he’d called it that out loud. So he doesn’t. He bites his tongue, swallowing down the groan that’s simmering in his throat at the sight of you.  
He can't resist sliding his thumb over that little pucker. He barely even brushes over you when you let out a pretty gasp for him. His cock is fully hard now, and it jerks against you at the sound, so he does it again, just to see if you’ll make the same noise twice. You do. 
Then you moan, sharp and keen, and he has to pull back, hand sliding over his slick length once before he leans in and replaces his thumb with the head of his cock. Taking his time, he slides it along the curve of your ass before nestling himself snugly between your cheeks. He makes an absolute mess as he goes, smearing the shiny slick left by Steven all over your bare skin until everything is a glistening sheen under the dim light as he begins to thrust forward, sliding his cock between the valley of your cheeks. 
Jake's dreamed of taking you here. He wants to take every fucking hole you have, fill you up and cover you with his come until it's dripping off of–out of every inch of your body.
Mierda. Even just the thought of it has heat climbing his spine, and his cock jerks in his fist and spitting even more precome into the mess already covering your spine and the rounded curves of your ass. 
He thrusts against you again, fucking himself between your cheeks, and you mewl quietly, pressing back against him. Maybe he won’t even fuck your pussy this time. Maybe he’ll just stay right here and rub his cock on your gorgeous ass until he comes all over it. Add to Steven’s mess with one of his own. He’ll do it. And reach around and rub your clit so you come too.
Maybe if he can get you used to the idea of his cock rubbing against your ass, maybe one day you’ll let him put it inside too. 
"You can, you know," you mumble out into the pillows, and Jake freezes, heat streaking down to his balls, and he has to grip himself hard at the base to avoid painting your ass with his come right then and there. 
Shit, did he say that out loud? He’s pretty sure he didn’t. He must have heard you wrong. Or he misunderstood. You can't possibly be offering what he thinks you are. 
"You can try putting it in. I might ask you to stop if I don't like it, but..." you your knees slightly, and the move has your ass practically wiggling at him in temptation, "It feels good right now."
Jake's brain stalls out. His body flashes hot all over. The back of his neck is tingling. He squeezes the base of his cock so hard he thinks he might be in danger of doing permanent damage, but he'll be damned if he comes on your ass right now when he’s just been told he might get to come in it. 
Gritting his teeth, Jake breathes through his body’s urge to come, pushing down the near-overwhelming need to shove his cock into your tight little asshole immediately. He knows he has to prep you if there's going to be any chance of you enjoying this, and he needs you to enjoy it because he wants to be able to do it again (and again and again and...) 
Shit. He needs to get on with it, or he's going to finish before he even makes it inside.
Jake makes himself let go of his aching cock, leaves it bobbing and dripping in midair, and turns his focus on you.
Leaning closer, he uses both hands to pull your ass cheeks apart, and just looks at you for a minute, watching your body clench around nothing.
"You want me to fuck you here, sweetheart?" he demands, sticky thumb sliding down through the mess of your slick and Steven’s come to circle your puckered hole, almost but not quite touching it, "Gonna let me put my cock inside this tight little hole and fill it up with my come?"
You whine, your whole body shivering under him, and he grins, satisfaction buzzing in his veins when your hips cant further up, trying to get him to touch you.
It’s fucking adorable is what it is. He is starting to understand why Marc likes to edge you now. How could he not? You’re always so reactive and needy when you’re denied. You make it so fun to tease. 
Sliding his thumb down, he slicks it around and around, just to watch you whine and shiver and shift, hips chasing his touch. His dick jerks with every noise you make and every time your body visibly clenches.
As fun as this is, a bright delight humming in his chest at your every little reaction, Jake doesn’t have the patience to tease you for long. 
He’s not like Marc. El Jefe seems to have infinite patience when it comes to this, but it’s only a minute or two before Jake can’t wait any longer. He feels like he’s going to jump out of his skin if he doesn’t get inside you one way or another. So he stops, holding his hand still to let you “catch” him.
When you do, he sucks in harsh breath, heat punching through him as he watches you rub yourself against his thumb, heart rate spiking as you lean back, the tip of his thumb pushing inside just a little.
It's barely anything, but the feeling of you parting to let his his thumb slips inside, then squeezing him back out is addictive. He presses harder, wanting more. His thumb slides a bare inch inside, and his groan barely covers the strangled sound you make, body tensing under him. 
Sweat breaks out on his forehead along with the realization that he cannot fuck this up. 
"Alright, mi alma?" he asks, trying to sound sweet and gentle, but his voice, low and eager, betrays him. A starving wolf in a sloppy sheep disguise. He’s not fooling anyone, not himself and certainly not you. 
Reigning himself in as best as he can, his fingers close into a fist with tight tension blaring in every nerve. Then he unfurls his palm to pet his hand over your back and down your side to give your ass a gentle squeeze. 
“Do you  need me to stop?" 
"N-no," comes the shaky answer, and Jake thanks any gods who might be listening, "It feels a bit odd, but..." you squeeze around his thumb, hot and unbelievably tight, and Jake swears under his breath, "It’s a good odd, I think. Just– just give me a moment."
You shift slightly, clenching again, and his cock jerks and throbs like the nerves of his thumb have somehow been reattached directly to his aching length. He really fucking doesn’t want to come before he even gets inside you, but right now he’s not sure if that’s in the cards for him.
Then you push back against him, and his thumb slides in another half inch, and both of you gasp. He pulls out slightly and risks a small thrust back inside. He's rewarded by another gasp and a small moan, so he does it again, a little further this time, and this time the moan is louder.
Fuck, you look so good like this, ass all slick and slippery. Before he even knows what he’s doing, Jake leans forward, spitting onto the curve of your ass right above where his thumb is inside you. 
You jerk when it lands on your skin, and he likes that. Likes that even though he’s done it before it always seems to take you by surprise. Likes how his spit  looks on your skin too, shiny and slick as it slides down the crack of your ass to join the rest of the mess he’s smeared there. Likes that when he pushes it into your tight little asshole, it’s one more way that he can be inside you, make you a little bit more his in a way that will linger after he’s no longer with you.
You whine as he pulls his thumb all the way out, he spits again, hitting his target, directly on your pretty little asshole, then he presses in again, shoving more of his spit into you.
Like most things when it comes to how he feels about you, Jake doesn’t entirely understand why he likes this so much. It’s primal, somehow, a deep-seated need to mark you with himself–his spit, his scent, his come.
His cock is aching, throbbing in time with the way you clench every time he pushes his thumb into you. Jake can't stand it, has to wrap his free hand around himself, gripping as hard as he dares, and stroking slowly. He grits his teeth against how good it feels, red hot pleasure searing up his spine as he leans in to slide the head of his overwrought, leaking cock along your ass, right next to where his thumb is shoved inside. 
"You feel how hard you make me?" he demands, pressing himself against you, relishing the way you shift and moan again, body still squeezing around his thumb, but loosening with every passing moment as you relax. It also has the added benefit of his precome dripping down to lubricate things even more as he thrusts into you a little deeper each time. "Fuck, I can't wait to get inside this tight little hole. You gonna let me in, mi alma?"
"Yes, yes, Jake! Please!" you cry out, only partially muffled where your face is pressed into the pillows, and he damn near loses it again. Has to press his cock against you hard, almost to the point of pain as fire licks out along his nerves, threatening to send him over the edge.
"You want this cock in your ass right now?" he grits out, vaguely aware that he should probably spend more time prepping you, stretching you so you can take him easier, but he can't wait another fucking second.
He pulls back, pulls his thumb out, and you whine out his name Jake, Jake, Jake as you push your ass up and back, chasing his touch.
He looks down to see a blur of movement between your legs, and realizes that at some point you shoved a hand underneath yourself to rub at your clit.
It’s pure impulse. He doesn’t think. Before he even realizes what he's about to do, Jake’s hand flashes out, coming down on your ass with a sharp crack that sends your flesh jiggling in an all-too-appealing way. 
You cry out, sharp and high-pitched, but Jake knows from experience that it's a cry of shock, not of pain, and he quickly follows up on his advantage.
"Naughty naughty, sweetheart,” he scolds, “Who said you could touch yourself?" 
You freeze, obviously caught, and several seconds tick by where he watches approvingly as the mark left on your supple skin from the impact of his hand shades into a darker hue before you whine again, "Please, Jake. I need– I need–"
That's more like it. 
"Pobrecita," he croons to you, enjoying the way you relax at his gentle tone, "Do you need more?"
You nod into the pillow.
He leans in and smacks his cock against the same place his hand struck. You jolt, letting out the hottest fucking sound, so he does it again, and has to grit his teeth against the noise that wants to escape him at the sensation.
"You want this cock, mi alma?" he demands, voice harsh,  "You want me fuck your ass with it right now?"
"Yes. Yes, Jake. Fuck, please. YES!" you pant out, sounding as desperate as he feels. You’re pressing back against him, hips shifting so you can press that pretty little hole right against the tip of him, acting for all the world like you're going to fuck yourself back onto his cock if he doesn't give it to you fast enough.
It's a heady feeling, to hear you beg for him, and part of him wants to hear you do it again, and again and again. To leave you there, begging for him as you struggle to fuck yourself on him. Lucky for you, he is nothing like Marc. 
"All you had to do was ask, mi alma," he grates out as he begins a slow press forward, "All you ever have to do is ask, and I'll give you the world."
Your body yields to him, the head of his cock slipping inside, and he has no more words. Only a strangled groan to match your whine as you clamp down hot and impossibly tight around him.
A sparkling clarity descends, time dilating, stretching out the way it does when he's in the middle of a fight, and he can only be grateful because he's barely clinging to his composure by the tips of his fingers here.
One truth stands out above everything else: he can't hurt you. 
He has to go slow, keep control, make it good for you. 
Jake wraps an arm around you, fingers tangling with yours to rub desperate circles around your clit, and he breathes a sigh of relief when you relax slightly under and around him. Still he doesn't move, not sure if he can without losing it and pumping you full of his come right then and there.
It's only when your hips start to move, hitching forward against his fingers, and then back to fuck yourself a little farther onto his aching cock that he dares draw in another breath, dares to meet your movements with small thrusts of his own, fucking in a little further each time.
And you take him just like that, little by little. One slow press, one torturous inch at a time, until he's buried as deep in you as he can go. 
"Fuck. Jake," you gasp out, clenching hard around him, and he groans. 
He makes the mistake of looking down at where you’re stretched tight around the base of his cock, taking every fucking inch he has to give, and the sight hits him like a punch to the gut. His hips stutter forward involuntarily, and somehow you take him even deeper.
You make a strangled sound, clamping down so tight it borders on the painful, and he freezes, shuddering behind you.
"¡Mierda! ¿Estás bien?" he demands, has to stop and mentally scramble for the words before he can ask again in English, "You okay, mi alma? Shit, did I hurt you?" 
"N-no. I'm okay," you pants out in response, "You can– You can move, Jake. Please. Need you to mo–"
Before you even finish the sentence, he’s already pulling out and easing back in. It’s a tight fit, your body hugging him so snugly that nothing else would fit. 
Lento, he reminds himself, gently. Not too fast. Gritting his teeth against the demands of his body, he presses himself in and out of you as slowly and carefully as he can manage, and he tries to keep his fingers moving on your clit. His free hand grips your hip, fingers digging in until he’s sure it must be painful, but he can't make himself let go.
You whine, writhing under him as he inches back into you.
"Jake," you pant out, nearly sobbing his name, "Jake, Jake," and he slows further, worried that it's too much.
"No!" you cry out suddenly, and Jake freezes on instinct, holding still as you prop yourself up on one elbow, turning your upper body sharply to one side so you can glare at him over your shoulder, "Don't bloody stop. I want you to fuck me."
The words hit him like a blow, knocking the air out of him, and the determined look on your face stabs him right in the heart, his whole chest pulling tight. 
"You've been so patient, Jake,” you cajole him, “and it's good. Better than I thought it would be. I want you to stop holding back. Fuck my ass for real. Let go, Jake."
Fuck, he loves you so fucking much. The feeling is so big, he doesn't know how his body can contain it. He wants to move mountains, conquer the fucking world just so he can lay it at your feet. He'd give you anything. 
But the only thing you're asking for right now is his cock, and that he’s just as desperate to give you as you are to take it.
He pulls out slowly, one… last… controlled… withdrawal, then he slams into you so hard it drives you forward across the bed away from him. Digging both hands into your hips, he yanks you back to him, back onto his cock.
"Like this?" he asks as he pulls out and slams into you again,  "You want it hard? Like this, mi alma?"
"Yes– Fuck– Yes–" you gasp out between harsh thrusts, "Ja-Jake!"
His name breaking on your lips is the sweetest fucking sound he’s ever heard in his entire life, and it severs the last threads of Jake's control. He lurches forward with a roar, driving himself into your tight little ass over and over again, as hard and fast as he can go. 
The force of it knocks you off your elbows, flattening you into the bed, but Jake just yanks you back, repositioning his knees as your hands scrabble uselessly at the sheets.
Every thrust is deep and relentless, burying himself inside you as deep as your body will let him, giving you as much of him as you can take. Until his hip bones are pressed flush against your ass, until his cock is buried inside you to the root, until every inch of him is enveloped by you. 
He's so lost in the feel of you, he doesn't realize he’s fucked you all the way across the bed until you're precariously balanced on the edge of the mattress.
Your knee goes first, slipping sideways off the bed mid-thrust, and it's enough to pull him off balance and send you both tumbling to the floor. 
Instinct takes over, and before Jake even has a chance to consciously register what’s happening, he’s already twisting, shielding your body so that he takes the brunt of the fall. He winds up hitting the hardwood ass-first before coming to rest with his head against the nightstand and you in his lap. 
Miraculously, you’re still connected, the force of the fall shoving you down on his cock farther than ever before, the feeling of being lodged so far inside your tight ass more than enough to overwhelm the slight pain in his tailbone from the fall.
There's a moment of stunned silence, then you start shaking, trembling in his arms, shoulders vibrating against him. He has half a second to worry that he’s fucked up badly enough to make you cry before a loud, bright sound rings out in the room. 
You’re laughing. Oh thank fuck.
"Oh my god, Jake! You just fucked me off the bed, quite literally. That's definitely a first!" you exclaim, twisting around to giggle down at him, eyes crinkled with amusement, mouth curved in an open, full-toothed smile. Jake has a handful of seconds to marvel at how beautiful you are before you shift in his lap, your body clamping down around him, and any last lingering shreds of control he might have been clinging to are gone.
Jake lifts his hips, fucking up into you, and watches your eyes go wide, a gasp falling from your lips.
It's not enough.
He grabs your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh and rolls to his knees, and your gorgeous laughter dissolves into a broken cry of surprise as he drags you with him. The sound melts into a long drawn out moan that has the tip of his ears tingling. He can’t think, all he can do is keep going as he fucks forward into you again, his chest tight against your back as he forces you down onto all fours so he can keep fucking you. 
Fuck. The wood floor is hard and uncomfortable under his knees, digging into his kneecaps. He knows it must be worse for you with his weight bearing down on you, but he can't make himself stop. 
He's been dreaming about taking you this way for so long, and now he finally gets to. He knows, he knows he should stop and check on you, should move the two of you back up onto the bed where you'll be more comfortable, but that pretty little ass is stretched around him so perfectly, tight and hot around him, and his need is riding him hard.
Heat prickles from the tip of his fingers, spreading along the nerve endings along every patch of skin, fuck. It’s everywhere, expanding across the span of his chest, pooling in his abdomen, gripping into his lungs. He can’t breathe. Can’t stop. Can’t–
"Lo siento," he stutters out. "I'm sorry, mi alma. I can't– I have to–" Words leave him, and all he can do is pant against your neck as his hips jerk into you with increasingly sloppy thrusts. 
His end is approaching fast, whether he wants it to or not, and he barely has the presence of mind to shove a hand underneath you, rubbing desperate circles over your clit with fingers gone clumsy with need.
He has to make it good for you. He has to. He has to– 
Por fortuna, it only takes a minute for you to tense underneath him, sobbing out his name and tightening around him so forcefully that he can't keep thrusting, his cock locked in place by the tight clench of your body.
The lack of movement is enough to stave off his own orgasm, but just barely, the pleasure is overwhelming, teasing at the tip of his tongue as you shudder underneath him and you flutter rhythmically around his cock. It's so similar to being inside your pussy when you come, but it's different too. The pulse of your pleasure there squeezing him so tight it's nearly painful, but its so, so fucking good.
He breathes through it, pressing open-mouthed, panting kisses against the skin of your back. Does his best to keep his fingers moving on your clit, trying to prolong the moment for you, to draw you pleasure out as long as he can. He wishes he could see your face. 
Next time, he promises himself. Face-to-face next time, so he can watch every expression you make as he fucks you full of himself and see the pleasure break across your face when you come with his cock lodged deep inside.
All too soon, you're collapsing forward onto one elbow, your other hand shoving at his where it's buried between your legs, and he lets you push his hand away, planting his palm on the ground next to your head. 
You turn weakly to look up at him, pulling partially off of his dick as your body sags like you can’t keep yourself up. 
"Are you ready, mi alma?" he grits out, dimly aware that he's shaking as he braces himself above you, "Ready for me to fuck this tight little ass full of my come?"
"Mmm," you hum, sweet and contented under him, "yes, please."
That's all Jake needs to hear.
He slams his hips forward into yours, and the force of the first thrust knocks you forward off your elbow, your chest meeting the ground as you half-collapse under him. 
Jake follows you down without stopping, fucking into you hard. You sink a little further towards the floor with each thrust until you're flat on your stomach, but Jake still doesn't stop. He can’t, though he's sure he must be flattening you. Doesn't think he could stop if his life depended on it
He's grinding into you now with increasingly sloppy thrusts, burning heat burrowing into the base of his spine as he holds back his orgasm by sheer will, slurring out endearments against the back of your shoulder.
“Mi alma. Mi vida. Reina de mi corazón.”
And you are. His soul. His life. The queen of his heart. You are all of that and more. His gorgeous, perfect love, taking him, all of him, exactly as he is.
"Do it," you say from underneath him, and reality seems to recede, his vision tunneling in on your lips as they shape the words that just might kill him.
"Fill my ass up with your come. Fuck it into me as deep as you can. I'm yours, Jake."
Jake's orgasm crashes into him like an unexpected switch. Like a bomb going off. Like a knife sliding between his ribs, sharp and sudden. Pleasure sears though every inch of the body that has never felt more like his than it does at this moment, his forehead pressing against the warm skin of your back as he empties himself inside you in pulse after pulse of aching release. 
By the time the last shuddering spasm subsides, Jake feels wrung out like a bloody rag. He barely manages to avoid collapsing on top of you, mustering just enough strength to roll the two of you to the side so that he’s no longer squishing you. Pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder, he carefully pulls out, then pulls you back against his chest, curving his body around yours, and the two of you lay cuddled together like that for a long moment.
Eventually, his strength returns, along with the awareness that the floor he’s holding you on is both hard and probably not all that clean given Steven’s penchant for pouring sand all over. You deserve better. He gets up first, and carefully helps you rise to standing, waiting a moment to be sure you’re steady on your feet, before guiding you gently into the bathroom. 
When he flips on the bathroom light, the shadow of his reflection in the small round mirror transforms into a flushed, wide-eyed Steven who mumbles, “That was… God, that was… ” 
He doesn’t seem to be able to find the words. Jake’s not sure he could either, but Mr Sunshine doesn’t need to know that, so he just shoots the mirror a smug smile and tips an imaginary cap in that direction before he moves to turn on the shower.
You shiver a little when he steps away from you, so once the water is running, he wraps both arms around you, encouraging you to lean against him while you wait for it to get warm. You do, wrapping one arm around his waist in return and curling into his chest like there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.
Jake just watches you. Tilting his head back and slightly to the side to get a better angle, he lets his eyes roam over your face, taking in the soft curve of your cheek, the eyelashes feathered against the soft skin there nod that your eyes have fluttered closed, the hand you’ve settled against his chest, right over his heart, the way your lips curve up into a slight content smile. 
You’re beautiful.
You always are, but right now, something about this moment makes Jake’s chest tight. It steals his breath as surely as if there were hands wrapped tight around his neck, choking the life out of him.  But instead of stealing his life, it’s as if you’re giving him more of it, pumping him full of its essence, filling his chest until he doesn’t know how his body can contain the feelings you inspire in him. 
The bathroom is getting warmer, steam starting to form on the mirror, but Jake is loath to relinquish his hold on you. You seem equally uninterested in leaving him. You’re snuggled contentedly into his chest, but the way you slump lower and looser with each passing second tells him that he needs to get you moving fast, before you fall asleep standing up. “Water’s warm,” he tells you, and you hum sleepily against his chest. It’s so, so tempting just to carry you back to bed, but he knows you’ll be happier if you’re clean.
“C’mon, mi alma. Into the shower. Vamos.”  He herds you gently backwards until you’re standing under the spray.
You hum sleepily up at him without opening your eyes, and he’s worried for a moment that he’s lost you to sleep already, but you stay standing when he cautiously releases you.
Reaching for your soap, he quickly lathers up a washcloth. The smell of the soap—the smell of you—quickly permeates the small space, and he breathes deep, letting the familiar scent wash over him.  He runs the cloth gently over your shoulders,  taking extra care with the still-visible bite mark one of them left there, then down over your chest. The skin of your breasts is soft and warm under his fingertips, and he’s half tempted to try for another round, but he feels strangely protective of your soft sleepiness.
Instead he dutifully rinses you off, letting the water cascade over your body. 
You blink your eyes open long enough to shoot him another warm, sleepy smile, and the contentment in his chest seems to expand, taking root and spreading with every breath until it feels almost too large for the small space of the shower. 
He steps out, reaching for a towel, and drys you off gently, before doing the same to himself with much less care.
Then he carries you back to bed and tucks you in, doing his best to straighten out the wrinkly covers before pulling them up over both of you. Curling his body around yours, he holds you tightly to him. There are a lot of things in this world Jake can do without, has done without. But this– you are no longer on that list.
In the cozy warmth of the bed with your body pressed against his, his eyes feel heavy. Jake never used to fight to stay in the driver’s seat, not once the excitement was over. But he clings to consciousness now. He wants to prolong this moment when his vision is filled, not with yet another threat to body, life or limb, but with something altogether perfect: the sight of you drifting off to sleep, your head nuzzling into the pillow, a slight smile on your face… safe. 
It’s the last thing he sees as he falls into a deep, restful sleep. .
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pandorascripts · 10 months
Text
a couple of what?!
summary: When out on the streets of NYC with your girlfriend, the paparazzi thinks you guys are friends. A rough make out session on the street tells the world otherwise.
pairing: taylor swift/reader
cw: kissing, light swearing, fluff.
note: so apparently I write for Taylor now LMAO. I literally was listening to dress and was like “fuck it” and boom twenty minutes later, here we are. So requests are open for her too! Also posted on ao3.
—-;—-;—-;—-;—-;—-;—-;—-
It’s been two months since Taylor asked you to be her girlfriend, and honestly, it’s been the best two months of your life. Taylor’s sweet, romantic, and comforting. Everything about her is a giant green flag, down from her cat obsession to her devotion to her fans. You truly can’t imagine how you got this lucky. 
So, sitting across from her in a fancy restaurant, you tell her so. 
“Hey, Taylor?”
She sets her glass down, smiling at you lightly. “Yeah?”
“I just wanted to say that, uh, you just make me really happy.” You look down to the table, realizing how absolutely, cringey that sounded out loud. 
Taylor only smiled widely, taking your hand in hers. “You make me happy too. Really happy.”
Your cheeks flush a light red, eyes locking into her shockingly blue ones. Another thing about Taylor— she’s astronomically beautiful. With lungs who can’t do their job, you go back to eating your food. Although you have to do it with your left hand because Taylor still has your hand in hers. Not like you care for how much slower it makes you— your appetite left the moment she had complimented your shirt. 
As your dinner wraps up— Taylor arguing that she wanted to pay, to which you just swapped your credit cards at the last moment— she leads you outside, pinkies locked. Since you were in Net York City for the weekend, Taylor had called herself your personal guide, showing you anything and everything. You smile, Taylor pointing out a random alley that she swore was significant. 
It didn’t take long for paparazzi to find the two of you, but you didn’t mind. You and Taylor weren’t exactly “out” with your relationship, but you had both agreed to just be yourselves out in public. So if the paps got a photo of you two kissing, then it was whatever. Taylor thought it would be funny to see her fans reaction to your guys’ “friendship.” 
It wasn’t until the paparazzi started asking you questions, did Taylor tense. 
“Y/N! Over here! Are you single?” 
“Are you with Taylor?”
You ignored them, lightly squeezing Taylor’s hand three times. She looked down to you, smiling slightly. It didn’t last long because son enough, her expression flipped like a dime. Taylor turned on her heel, staring one of the men down. 
“What did you just say?”
The man in question shrinks away from her gaze, shrugging and mumbling incoherent things. 
“Hey, Tay, let’s just g—“
In one fluid movement, Taylor has her hand on your hip, the one that was holding your hand is now imbedded in your hair. She leans down quickly, lips pressing against yours roughly, your hair being tugged lightly. There’s shouts all around, cameras shuttering as you fling your arms over Taylor’s shoulders. You don’t care in the slightest because Taylor’s hands are currently wandering, running up and down your back and hooking your thigh against her waist. 
Taylor pulls away slightly, just enough time for you to mumble a quick “Oh” before she leans back in. 
The paparazzi still hasn’t lost interest, so Taylor takes one of her hands away from you and sticks it up in the air— the ring on her middle finger gleaming in the sunlight like a beacon. 
As she’s doing this, you pull away to face the crowd. They each swarm you, getting photos of your face and her’s. It doesn’t take a genius to know Taylor’s lipstick is smudged and remnants are littered over your mouth. 
Taylor looks at the man from before, a smug grin on her face. “A couple of best friends my ass.”
You let out a snort, Taylor pushing past paparazzi and messaging her driver. 
“Babe, he called us friends? And you did that?”
Taylor looks down to you, a little bit of worry on her face. “Was that not okay? Oh my god, I should’ve as—“
You bring her head down to you, kissing her lips softly as more cameras flash. “It was perfect.”
Before Taylor can say anything, her driver’s skirting around the bend and you guys are stepping in her car. 
With a bit of morbid curiosity, you decide to look at the internet in fifteen minutes. You’re not so much worried for this news, everyone who matters to you knows about your relationship with Taylor, but you are worried about society’s. Of course it’s 2023, being homophobic is the new weird, so you’re only basing your fears off of stupidity. And Taylor’s fans? They’ll see this as an absolute win. 
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ddejavvu · 1 year
Note
Jake and big boobed pregnant reader him coming home and she still in her night gown and him turning the corner and seeing a pile of clothes"sweet heart whats wrong " and her giving him a look that could kill"you know what happens when you are growing a child in everything grows. Boobs grow they are huge and senstive and THEY HURT and it your fault " and you keep throwing clothes in different piles "how is this my fault "
"You and your damn breeding kink "
"You werent complain that night"
You throw a shirt at him that you both know he desvere (if this is too long ignore this part) him coming up behind you and massaging them while you lay your head on his chest"why do they have to grow " mumbling
this post is 18+, minors dni.
Jake typically gets home in time for dinner, but tonight he'd been held past midnight. It means that he's expecting you asleep when he gets home, not sitting topless on the edge of the bed with your face in your hands.
"Woah," He drawls, steps faltering in the doorway of your bedroom, "Darlin', what's the matter? And- where's your shirt?"
The questions have the same answer, and you point lazily to a pile of clothes discarded on the floor.
"And why are the tops in a heap on the floor?" He still doesn't understand, but the convictive tone he'd used doesn't sit right with you, and your head snaps up, eyes ablaze.
"Oh, you wanna know why everything's such a mess? Why the floor is dirty? Why I'm half-naked?!"
"Yes," He says, even if he knows he shouldn't, "That- it would be nice to have answers to all of those."
"It's because of you," You hiss, standing - chest still bare - to stalk towards him, an accusatory finger pointed at his own chest, "You and your stupid penis!"
"Ah," He retreats until his back hits the door, but still you follow, jabbing your finger into his chest, "Um, darlin', do you need bigger shirts?"
"My boobs can't fit in anything!" You gush miserably, "My shirts, your shirts, sweatshirts, dresses, nothing! I couldn't jam 'em into a trash bag if I tried, Jake, a trash bag!"
"Okay," He soothes, grabbing your wrists before you get the idea to strangle him, "Okay. Alright, listen. Let's go shopping tomorrow," He offers, reaching for a blanket to drape over your shoulders, "You can wear one of my brother's sweatshirts, I snagged one from him before I left home and he's a bigger size than I am. 'Should fit. But in the meantime, uh, I'll put away the clothes," He bargains, a placating smile on his face, "Sound good?"
You can't be mad at his offer; he's done everything right. But you still want to be grumpy, so you break away from him grumbling, "You and your damn breeding kink."
He bites back a smirk, bending over with his back to you so that he can mumble to himself, "Weren't complaining 'bout being bred that night, darlin'."
Two things happen in quick succession: You launch a shirt at Jake's head, and land a sharp smack to his denim-clad ass. He deserves both.
2K notes · View notes
sugrhigh · 2 months
Text
BOY NEXT DOOR 3 - ( c.s )
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part two
summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.
warnings- swearing, a bit of drinking
neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader
a/n: part three baby here we go! hope you guys enjoy!! if i forgot a tag it either wouldn’t let me or i missed it (if i missed u pls comment and i’ll fix it right up). anyways kisses for u all i hope ur having a good day, my inbox is open for anything as always MWAH
@cutenote @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @breeloveschris @l9vesick @bb-1s-blog @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @annamcdonalds67 @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @hearts4matty @orangeypepsi @luckistar-posts @angelworldspost @ponyosturniolo @rainyenthusiastdaze @heartz4chris @sturnvvz @cupidsword @wurlibydominicfike @mattswrld @yoursopretty15 @poopydroopt @latinasforchrizz @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner
it’s been a day since the kiss, and you still haven’t told a single soul. for some reason, you’re way too scared to admit what happened to your roommates, even though you know they’d be the last to judge you for it.
and yet you just can’t, despite the fact that it’s been eating you alive for over twenty-four hours straight. saying it out loud makes it real, so you decided it was best to keep it inside.
however, you still need to give chris his jersey back, which you’ve been neglecting to do because you don’t want to see him.
or maybe because you’re scared.
it’s an involuntary thought, and it makes you angry. there’s nothing to be scared of, because he doesn’t have any power over you.
right?
you grab his jersey off the top of your dresser. it’s all clean, and it still smells like detergent from when you washed it yesterday. you’ve been putting it off all day, and it’s time for that to stop.
the sun is nearly gone, so you head down the stairs, silently thankful that ramona and cassidy are both are both runnings errands as you slip out the front door.
you’re in your comfy clothes, black sweats and baby blue hoodie that you stole from cass, and you’re immediately regretting the fact that you didn’t grab a jacket.
you hurry across the lawn, passing the cars parked in the driveway. there’s an unfamiliar red one at the end, and it almost makes you pause, but the possibility doesn’t fully connect in your mind yet.
so you head up the steps and knock on the door loudly, still very much so a woman on a mission.
it takes a moment, a long moment, before someone comes to open it for you. it’s connor, which is unfortunate, because you really weren’t prepared to speak with anyone besides the one boy you’re actually looking for.
he looks a little confused, but he smiles nonetheless. “what’s up?”
“i’m just, uh, trying to drop off chris’s jersey.” any bit of confidence you had is gone now as you choke on your words.
connor’s eyes widen a little as his grin fades, though you can tell he’s trying to play it off. “he’s a little busy right now, but i’ll get it to him.”
your eyebrows furrow as he reaches his arms out, like he’s trying to rush the process along without any more interrogation.
“busy with what?” you question, though you hand it over regardless.
he looks at you for just a half a second too long, like he’s waiting for you to piece it together, and then it clicks. chris is busy because he has a girl over, and that’s her car in the driveway.
you wish it didn’t phase you, but you can feel your face morphing into an emotion that borders disgust and anger.
“oh, i see.” is all you say, because you’re already fucking embarrassed beyond belief.
you turn and head back down the stairs, trying to ignore the way your stomach is flipping like you’re going to throw up.
connor doesn’t say anything. instead you hear the door close, and you feel completely numb as you walk back to your own porch. part of it is because of the cold, and part of it is because you feel so stupid.
you’re not sure what you were expecting, but that was exactly what you should’ve anticipated knowing chris.
you step back into the warmth of your own home, and even when you close and lock the door, a shiver chases you.
you head back up to your bedroom, kicking your shoes off by the door. you want further confirmation, so you peek through the curtains that hang over your window.
chris’s room, which is coincidentally directly across from yours, reveals nothing besides a dim light that peeks through the closed blinds.
you let the drapes fall back into place, still in shock. it was so ridiculous to believe for even a second that he was any different than he had been for the last six months.
you should’ve taken him at his word. he doesn’t date, and he’s not interested in you beyond teasing you or making you look like an idiot.
and you refuse to be taken for a fool.
you pace along the floor for a second until you decide you deserve some wine. you know there’s at least half a bottle in the fridge, and maybe it’ll help you calm the hell down.
a few minutes later you’re back upstairs, huddled up in your bed with a book you had started earlier in the day, sipping from your glass as you read.
it’s hard to fall into the fantasy world you picked out at first, but then you begin to feel your cheeks flush and your eyes are suddenly devouring the words.
you’re so enveloped in the plot, completely unaware that your roommates had gotten home until ramona walks in. it startles you, so much so that you lose your page.
she pauses to take in your state; the empty glass, the minimal leftovers in the bottle you brought with you, your droopy eyes.
“wine before 7 p.m. on the lord’s day? you’re crazy.” she jokes with a grin.
you shrug, also smiling a little bit. “felt like getting a little wild.”
mona puts a hand on her hip and nods toward the door she just entered through. “well, could i maybe convince you to take this crazy train downstairs so we can catch up on VPR? we’re like, three episodes behind now.”
you snap your book closed and roll out of bed, which you can tell by her snort looks far from graceful.
“all you had to say was VPR.”
you sit at your desk, gnawing on your bottom lip as you try to focus on the stupid online homework prompts that are due soon. the overcast afternoon light pours into your room, and you hear your phone buzz against the wood.
chris
still playing hard to get?
you roll your eyes before you can help it. the text doesn’t surprise you, because he’s been messaging you for the past few days, ever since he inevitably found out you stopped by from connor.
chris
that’s clearly a yes.
you wonder how many times he’s going to text you as you put your phone down to pull your hair out of your face, tying it up at the back of your head.
once again, you hear the device vibrate, and you flip it to glance at the screen.
chris
i can see you ignoring me you know
your eyes betray you as you glance out the window, just to find chris standing in front of his own. he’s pouting at you with his phone in his hand, hair all curly and damp like he just got out of the shower.
you stand up from your chair without a second thought and take a few steps so you can yank your curtains closed.
he might refuse to believe it, but you’re not playing hard to get. you just can’t fucking stand him.
chris
now that’s just cold
come onnnnnn princess
y/n
holy shit
do NOT call me princess
chris
you love it
y/n
i hate you
chris
if you don’t stop this i’m coming over there
y/n
i’d like to see you try asshole
chris
fine.
you pull back one curtain to call his bluff, and your heart actually drops when you see that he’s not standing there anymore. that just means he’s probably on his way over already.
you have no idea if cass or ramona are home or in their rooms or what. but you do know that you’re locking your door, and if he makes it through the house undetected he’s not getting into your room.
you sit on the edge of your bed for a moment, waiting because you don’t know what else to do with yourself. and then the knock comes, right before chris twists the handle and finds it locked.
“open up.” he demands, his gruff voice muffled through the door.
“no.”
“i’ll go downstairs and get cass if you don’t let me in.” he threatens, which doesn’t really scare you.
cassidy will kick his ass out if she realizes you don’t want him here. you’ll have to explain some things, but it’s probably time to do that anyways.
“you’re being a baby and you’re wasting your time. go home, chris.” you reiterate.
“come on, i just want to talk.” he wiggles the handle once again, like that will somehow open it.
“then call a sex addiction helpline.” you reply hotly, glaring at the slab of wood that separates you as if you can actually see him, though you’re glad you can’t.
“can you please open the door?”
“nope.”
“jesus, you’re so stubborn it’s ridiculous.” he groans, and you hear his forehead thump against the door.
he’s growing frustrated now, and even though you’re heated too, you kind of love it.
“so are you! how many times do i have to tell you to leave?” you shoot back.
it’s silent for a moment, which scares you. then you hear a small sigh.
“i didn’t think i would have to do this.”
the lock on the door begins to twist and turn rapidly, and you leap forward to grab it with your hand.
chris twists it hard and your fingers fumble to keep it jammed. your thumb is already in pain, and the harder he pushes the closer you are to failing. you’re finally forced to let go as chris comes shoving his way into your room a few seconds later.
even though he stumbles slightly, he looks so proud of himself, clutching the heavy duty paper clip he used to get inside.
“there, that’s better.” he says smugly.
you watch his eyes take in your room, covered in posters and full of random artifacts, and you hate it. for some reason, it feels deeply personal.
“holy shit, why don’t you just go home already?”
it’s impossible to keep your tone level anymore as you turn away from him.
“i’m here now, so you have to talk to me.”
“no, i really don’t.” you reply before plopping down onto your mattress, crossing your arms as you lean against the headboard.
“don’t be a brat.” chris follows your lead, even though you weren’t inviting him to join you.
he falls beside you, sprawling out on his back by your feet. his shirt raises over his sweats, exposing a bit of skin above the band of his boxers, and you have to tear your eyes away.
you can feel the warmth of his body, can smell his aftershave mixed with hints of some kind of fresh body wash, and all of it drives you crazy.
you curl your body into itself so there’s as much distance between the two of you as possible.
“why are you so mad?” chris turns his head slightly so he can look at you.
“i’m not mad, you just disgust me.”
this makes him smile. “i beg to differ, i think you like me.”
without hesitation, you extend one leg to kick him in his side. even though it’s not very forceful, he lets out a little groan of surprise, hand going to rub his hip as he frowns.
“you didn’t have to kick me, damn.”
“you deserved that.” you argue, tucking your knees back to your chest.
this time he stays silent and just looks at you. his eyes scan your face, darting down to your lips every other second, and you’re suddenly very aware of your surroundings.
“what the fuck are you staring at?” you ask in a brief moment of panic.
his eyes are so unnerving. it’s like he can see right through you.
“you’re pretty.” chris shrugs before averting his gaze back to the ceiling.
your face flushes, and you force yourself to remember the embarrassment from the other day, how stupid you felt after discovering that he’s still the same old player that sits beside you now.
“shouldn’t you be giving some other girl an STD or something?” you snap, and he huffs out a breathy laugh.
“first of all, i’m totally clean. and if you’d actually let me explain, you’d realize the girl that was over on sunday is just an ex fling who was picking up some old stuff.”
his clarification shocks you, though you still don’t necessarily believe it yet. he could be lying, even though it doesn’t seem like he is.
“you’re seriously telling me you weren’t hooking up with her?” you ask.
“it was strictly platonic. nothing happened.” he confirms, shifting to face you again.
chris lifts his hand to trace gentle patterns along your shins, and you don’t shy away this time. the feeling of his palms, even when separated by your leggings, is far nicer than you imagined.
“okay.” you mutter simply.
“you’ve been ignoring me the entire week and all i get is an ‘okay’?” he halts his movements so he can curl his fingers into air quotes.
“what would you like me to say?”
“an apology would be a nice start.”
you bark out a laugh. “an apology for what? for not talking to you? because i really didn’t take you for the sensitive type.”
he just shakes his head, nudging your legs with one of his knuckles lightly. “god, you and that headstrong attitude will be the death of me.”
“can’t wait.” you quip back, and now its his turn to chuckle.
silence settles over the two of you for a moment, and you’ve been far too close for too long, so you move to stand once again.
“alright, well, we talked. time for you to get lost.” you motion toward the door.
chris sits up, running a hand through his messy hair before he replies. “look, we don’t have another game until sunday, so we’re hosting at the house tomorrow. you should come.”
you raise an eyebrow and tap your chin, like you’re really contemplating. “i’ll have to think about it.”
“please? it’ll only be fun if you go.” he flashes you a charming smile, and you hate that it actually does kind of work.
“maybe i’ll make a special appearance. maybe.” you point a wary finger at him as he gets back on his feet.
“that’s what i like to hear.” chris says, making his way toward you.
you expect him to pass right by, but he lingers, like there’s something else on his mind. he stares down at you with those big blue eyes, and you can feel yourself slipping into dangerous territory.
“is there something else?” you ask softly, and the sound of your voice is maddening to him.
you don’t even try to tempt chris on purpose, he knows this, and yet everything about you is so enticing. not to mention he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the kiss since it happened, or that pretty little mouth of yours.
but he shakes his head again, because the things he’s thinking about you so early on in this strange relationship frighten him.
“uh, no, sorry. i’ll see you tomorrow, hopefully.”
and then he blows right by you without waiting for a response, disappearing just as quickly as he arrived.
343 notes · View notes
psychedelic-ink · 1 year
Text
𝑨𝑸𝑼𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑪 𝑹𝑬𝑯𝑨𝑩𝑰𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵
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pairing: joel miller x f!reader
genre: smut, minors dni, no outbreak au, strangers to lovers
word count: 7.2k
summary: Joel has been experiencing knee pain for the past two months. When he finally sees an orthopedist, he learns that he has some minor damage to his meniscus. The doctor prescribes him anti-inflammatory medication and physical therapy, recommending swimming. At the pool, he meets you.
warnings: conversation about past failed relationships + sexual relationships, sarah's off at college, reader being briefly self conscious about her body, touch starved joel, oral (giving), both reader and joel not being intimate with anyone for a while, piv sex, riding for the first time, ass play, messy, joel showing small signs of relationship anxiety, sexual tension, size kink, dirty talk, joel is mentioned to be older than reader but how old isn't specified, praise kink, joel being...well-endowed
a/n: this ended up being more emotional and longer than I intended lmaodfbvfg whoops?
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Joel worries his bottom lip between his teeth. His right knee bobs nervously, his jeans making a sound every time. The early morning sun filters through the small window. A soft yellow light bounces off the picture frames on the orthopedist's desk. She’s not here yet. The kind nurse had let him in early, saying she would be there shortly. It smells like medicine. It’s too clean and he doesn’t like it. 
His stomach turns. Some part of him actually hopes the doctor doesn’t come in. Joel’s not hopeful about the results. His knees have been bugging him for the past two months. Locking painfully whenever he sat too long and got up. Or when he was sitting in the truck for too long. It just started to ache out of nowhere. It had gotten worse. He’d give in, finally, after Sarah practically begged him on the phone to see a doctor. After all this time he still couldn’t say no to his sweet girl. 
The door opens with a click. Joel becomes stiff, eyes nervously following the woman. She takes a seat. Placing the folder neatly on the shiny table, she opens it and smooths it out with the flat of her palms. 
“Good morning, Mister Miller.” she says, not bothering to look at him. “I've taken a look at your knee x-rays and it seems that you have a bit of damage in your meniscus.”
His molars catch the smooth inside of his cheek and sink into it. She just said a whole lot that he doesn’t understand. He shakes his head. She’s finally looking at him, sharp eyes peering between thinned lashes. 
“Is it serious? What does that mean?” he asks, hands finding the curve of his knees. 
“Well, the good news is that it's not a major injury. There’s just a bit of damage in the tissues and can be treated with some medication and physical therapy. You won’t need surgery unless it escalates. Which, hopefully, it won’t.”
“Okay, that's good to hear. What kind of medication and therapy do I need?”
“I'm going to prescribe you some anti-inflammatory medication to help reduce the swelling and pain in your knee. And as for physical therapy, I'd recommend you try swimming. It's a low-impact exercise that can help strengthen the muscles around your knee and promote healing. I also have some stretches I want to show you. I want you to do them daily.” 
She closes the folder, picks up a deck of Post-it notes, and starts scribbling something. 
“You were a contractor, right? I’m going to need you to refrain from heavy lifting for a while. No jumping, no running, no extreme movements that can affect your knee. Some walking is fine, but not a lot.” 
“Well,” he smacks his lips. Now relaxed, he leans back into the chair and crosses his arms. “There goes my weekend plans.” 
“Do you work out a lot? Because this is quite common in athletes.” 
“Uh…It was a joke.” 
“Oh.” 
Suddenly he’s fidgety again. Not wanting to look dumb, he explains. “Because you said jumpin’ and runnin’ and no one spends their weekend jumpin’ do they?” 
A nervous laughter bubbles in his throat, and he manages to swallow it down. She nods and peels the paper away. Handing it to Joel, she looks at him with a small smile. 
“Sorry about that, it’s still early. And you’re right. They don’t. 
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You step into the small shower cabin and allow the cold water to trace over your skin and wash away the outside. The elastic of your swimming cap digs into your forehead, the goggles applying pressure right above your head. Slightly irritated, you sneak two fingers under where the plastic starts, allowing your head to breathe one last time before taking a dip in the pool. You come here almost every day. It’s relaxing, soothing. 
Your fingers slip as you twist the knob, turning off the spray of water. You might be biased due to your childhood, but you love the pool. You love the chlorine that fills your lungs with every breath. It’s sharp and pungent, leaving a slight burn in your lungs. During summers your parents would send you off to summer camp, which you thoroughly enjoyed. Though, calling it a “camp” felt wrong. It wasn’t outdoors, and you would return after the day ended, just like regular school, but instead of math, there was swimming and basketball. 
You remember those days fondly, which is why you sigh blissfully at the scent whereas a lot of people would wrinkle their noses. 
Walking to the pool, you roll your shoulders. You wince upon hearing them crack. It’s been a long week. Your gaze lifts to the ceiling. The soft pitter patters of rain echoes. You love to swim when it rains. It also meant there would be fewer people, and no children. You don’t have anything against the tiny humans, but they had a habit of being loud. 
You spot an older couple, their bodies swaying in a lazy backstroke, their voices spilling out in laughter. You also notice one other person that’s aggressively swimming back and forth. In one lane, you notice a man. His cap and black goggles make it hard to catch a glimpse of his face. It’s hardly inappropriate, but you can’t resist stealing a few more glances at him. 
You take in his broad shoulders, thick neck, and shapely arms. You narrow your eyes. You catch a glimpse of his salt and pepper beard, the darker hue of his mustache hinting at the  color of his hair. Your eyes drop to his hands, hidden in the water up to the knuckles. He clenches them into fists before releasing them.
Your curiosity piques. You’ve never seen him before, he looks lost. He’s standing above the built-in stairs which are mainly used for people who are just learning to swim. He takes another step lower. The light blue water splashes over his soft stomach and he jerks away. You instinctively smile. You usually don’t reach out to people. If they smile at you, you smile back or talk about the weather. But the stranger’s nervous energy prompts you to take a couple of steps closer—close enough that he can hear you. You take a deep breath, pressing your nails into your palms, you push down the thoughts about your own appearance. No one really looks that good in a one piece. You feel exposed, which is why you usually dip into the water as fast as you can before anyone can get a good look. 
“Hi there,” you squeak, with an awkward lift of your hand. The man stiffens and turns. Your own image is reflected back at you thanks to the goggles he wears. “Sorry to bother you, I was just…wondering if you need help?” 
He stares at you in silence for a brief moment, his brows drawn together with confusion. But a moment later he relaxes, his shoulders drop and he playfully shakes his head. 
Finally, he removes the goggles, and you see his eyes— his gorgeous, big brown eyes. Your breath catches in your throat. You’re suddenly feeling very clammy and sweaty. 
“Is it that obvious?” he asks, a grin teasing at his lips. “My doctor said I need to start swimmin’ before my knees give out entirely.” 
“I’m sorry to hear that.” 
He waves his hand in dismissal, “Don’t be. It's nothin’ that serious, just small damage to my meniscus. I know how to swim, so it’s nothin’ like that but I guess my nerves are fried from worryin’ all weak about the results. My brain still ain’t convinced that everythin’ is fine.” 
God, he’s gorgeous. All you can do is focus on the movement of his lips. Him speaking is enough to fluster you. You need to get it together before he thinks you’re a creep. You part your lips, but the words die in your throat as you watch him. He starts climbing the steps one by one with an extended hand. The water cascades down his body, his trunks sticking to his thighs. In a fit of panic, you glue your eyes to his. 
“I’m Joel by the way.” he takes your hand and gives it two firm shakes. You introduce yourself but all you can hear is your own frantic heartbeat. 
“I’m glad it’s nothing serious,” you blurt out. You have no idea what to say or what you’re doing. “If you’re nervous we can do a couple of laps together if you want—if you’re comfortable with that, of course.” 
You swear your heart stops when his eyes flit across your face, assessing how serious you are. His smile never fades. You inhale sharply when his tongue darts out from between his lips, sweeping over his damp bottom lip.
“I bet you say that to all the older guys.” 
“Only the cute ones.” 
Clearly, the circuits between your brain and mouth are heavily damaged because there’s no way on god’s green earth did you just say that. You blink fast. Images of you choking out another you vivid in your mind. You’re insane—only the ones that are cute, who even says that? No more romantic comedies for you. 
Joel pushes his shoulders back. He exhales a deep breath, his chest heaving. 
“Well, ain’t that kind of you.” he takes a step back into the water, some part of you regrets not sneaking at least one more glance at his nethers. “I guess I should take you up on your offer. It’s only polite.” 
A nervous bubble of laughter escapes your throat. You don’t say anything and follow him into the pool. You’re glad to be finally submerging your body in water. Ever since you were little you would believe that water had magical healing properties. You would go into the water, thinking that someone it would speak to you. Despite being an adult, you still think that sometimes. It just makes life a little bit more fun. You know it’s stupid to think of chloric water having any kind of benefit to your body, however, it’s hard to break old thought patterns. 
Joel dips head first, and after watching his distorted silhouette underwater, you follow. You smile, bubbles coming from your nose. Your spine cracks as your body becomes more fluid. You turn around so you are facing upwards. Light bounces on top of the small waves. The ceiling is nothing but a blur of white and blue. Some part of you wishes this was an open pool so you could feel the vibrations of raindrops hitting the waterline. 
Turning again, you notice Joel moving up. His head pops above water. You take one last glance at his body before propelling yourself up, joining him. 
Your eyes follow the way waterdrops smooths a line down from his neck to his shoulder. Your mouth goes dry. 
“So,” you say. “Did your doctor give you any specific exercises?” 
He shakes his head, “She just told me to go swimmin’. And not to put pressure on my knees.” 
You think for a bit before answering, “Alright then. We’ll just take it slow, so a couple of laps first, take small breaks in between.” 
“You…really don’t have to, you know,” Joel looks almost guilty before his eyes move away from yours. Confused, you raise an eyebrow. 
“I don’t have to what?” 
“Swim with me.” 
You feel your heart shattering into tiny pieces of glass that stick to your lungs. His voice is barely above a whisper, cracking at the end of his sentence. Your body moves towards his by instinct. The most natural thing would be to place your hand on his cheek and pull him for a tender kiss. Your body singing at you to do it. And man, you’re tempted alright. You want to trace the seam of his lips with your tongue, taste the chlorine on his lips. 
You ball your hands into tight fists, thankful to be hidden underwater. You recognize the loneliness that maps across his handsome countenance. 
“I know I don’t have to,” you say instead. He looks back at you with surprise, eyes immediately dropping to your wet lips. “I want to.” 
He lets out a breath of relief, and nods, a smile gracing his lips. “A’right then. As long as I’m not keepin’ you from anythin’.” 
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The swimming had gone well. Joel definitely had the body and stamina for it, and the more laps he did, the more confident he became with his strokes. You found yourself staring at him openly, stealing glances before you dipped below the water, hiding your embarrassment. 
However, he was still a beginner, and he’s knees began to ache after the tenth lap. He insisted that you continue without him as he sat at the side of the pool. You were hesitant at first but agreed, however, your cheeks burned from the mere prospect of that man watching you swim. 
When you’re done, you catch him staring at you with a fond smile lingering on his lips. You imagine that’s the same look he’d give you with the first rays of sunlight after a rather passionate night. 
Your pussy bottoms out, heat spreading between your legs. You inhale sharply, accidentally snorting a bit of water. It burns and your eyes water, but you manage to swallow down the frantic coughs that threaten to rip from your throat. 
“Sweet little mermaid.” he mutters as you approach, eyes following you with greed. Your breath hitches, and Joel loses his grounding for a moment. He clears his throat and looks away. “You swim well.” 
“Thanks,” you answer. “You’re not so bad yourself.” 
You ignore the heat that emanates from his thigh, your arms accidentally brushing against the hard muscle. You clumsily push yourself out of the pool and take a seat next to him. 
“How’re your knees feeling?” you ask. 
He lets out a hum, stretching his legs underwater. “They’re fine. Hopefully, this works.” 
“I’m sure it will.” 
"Even if it doesn't work out, at least I won't be going home empty-handed," he says with a smile. Your eyes flick to him and widen slightly. Very inappropriately, your nipples tighten. A blush starts from his neck and spreads across his broad chest, you notice the goosebumps bursting over his skin. He starts to fidget with his thumbs. “And by that, I mean that I got to meet you. I think I put that weirdly.” 
The world comes rushing back and you feel the soft waves of the pool on your skin again. You smile. Without thinking much, you playfully nudge his shoulder with your own. A soft chuckle parts his lips as he leans into you. Neither of you moves away from the other. 
“So,” you say, flinching at how high-pitched you sound. “Is there a Mrs. Joel?” 
He laughs. The sound reminds you of an open field with colorful flowers dancing side to side with the wind. Instinctively, you sigh, your lashes kissing your cheeks. 
“Nope,” he answers. “What about you?” 
You shake your head, “I’ve been single for two years.” 
“I find that hard to believe.” 
“Well,” you look ahead, the old couple you spotted before is getting out of the pool. “My heart got broken quite a few times. I think without noticing I closed myself off after my last relationship. I find it hard to open up now and—” you cut off, your gaze drifting back to him. You bark an uncomfortable-sounding laugh and drop your head to your chest. “Aaand, I have no idea why I’m telling you this. Sorry.” 
“Don’t apologize, darlin’. For what it’s worth, I haven’t been with anyone for a long time either.” 
You grin and raise an eyebrow, “I find that hard to believe.” 
Joel smiles but it’s a soft one, like he’s remembering something—or in this case, someone. With unblinking eyes, you wait for him to elaborate. He notices your gaze, his smile stretches into a grin. 
“It’s not that interestin’ of a story,” he sighs. “I had my daughter when I was quite young. Mother left. And until Sarah went to college there was no one. After she left…I had a couple of flings but that’s pretty much it. Nothin’ long term.” 
“You have a daughter?” 
“Uh, yeah.” he answers, scratching the back of his head. You feel kind of bad now that you made him feel awkward. That wasn’t your intention at all. You’re surprised, but you find it to be sweet that he has a daughter. It must’ve been hard to raise her on his own. 
Before you can say anything, you sense him pulling back, both emotionally and physically. His shoulder isn’t pressed against yours anymore, the lack of contact makes you ache. He moves his legs languidly under the water, your gaze follows the movement. 
“I know it might be awkward. And not ideal. But I would love it if we could get to know each other more.” 
Your ears burning, you take his hand into yours, squeezing it tightly. If he’s surprised by your sudden gesture, he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t look at you and you squeeze again, drawing his gaze back to you. 
“That’s not why I asked. That was probably a bit insensitive of me, I was just surprised and it came out wrong.” you let out a breath of relief when his thumb begins to draw slow circles over your skin. A shiver settles at the base of your spine. “And I would very much like to get to know you.” 
Your heart skips a beat at the way his entire face lights up. Looking at him proving to be similar to looking into the sun, you lower your gaze and grin. You feel dizzy. 
“Does that mean I can ask for your number sunshine?” he asks and leans closer. His warm breath fanning your cheek. 
You nod, “Of course.” 
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The pleasant buzz that thrums in your veins soon shift into one of simmering annoyance. Of course, someone took—no, stole—your umbrella. It’s just your luck. It’s raining cats and dogs and all you can do is watch the heavy drops collide with concrete as you wait outside. You look up to the sky, pleading that it stops. You love the rain, love listening to it, but only if you’re surrounded by your cozy home wrapped in a blanket. Or if you’re swimming. 
You could’ve handled a soft drizzle, sometimes you even enjoyed walking under the rain, but not this. You swear one of those drops alone can poke an eye out. It’s deafening. Thunder echoes, and you can’t help but flinch. Everything is so loud. Your body is refreshed, but at the same time, your muscles are drained from all the swimming. Exhausted from the workout and the excitement, all you want is a cozy nook with a steaming cup of tea and a good book.
You don’t have much else to do until the rain stops, therefore, you think of Joel. He’d been truly a splendid surprise. Sometimes life sucked but moments like those made it better. After exchanging numbers, he’d promised to call you as soon as he was back home. 
A smile tugs at your lips. You find it cute that he said he called instead of texting you. You’ll get to hear his voice which is a huge plus. 
You’re viciously ripped away from your thoughts when a loud honk echoes above the rain. With your hairs standing on edge, you see a truck with the window pulled down. You narrow your eyes. The rain and headlights create a thick fog, making it difficult to see clearly. 
“Joel?” you call out, hoping that you’re seeing right. 
“Hey,” he answers, leaning over and popping the door open for you. “Hop in.” 
You take the first step, a bit uncertain with your movements in fear that it might be an illusion created by the stormy night, but it’s not. The leather seat under you is solid and so is the man sitting next to you. You wipe your face with your sleeve. 
“Thanks. You basically saved my ass right now. Some asshole stole my umbrella.” 
He grins, “It’s the least I could do.” 
The rain pounds relentlessly against the windshield, the sound a chaotic symphony that drowns out everything else. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and you flinch as a particularly loud crack splits through the air. You jump in your seat. Joel’s hand lands softly on your thigh, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You look at him, surprised, and he meets your gaze with a small smile.
“Is this alright?” he asks, his voice gentle as he squeezes.
You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. His touch is warm and inviting. Like a soft caress that makes your skin tingle. You feel a sudden urge to lean into him, to climb on top of his lap, and allow his wide hands to roam all over your back. 
Joel starts the car and drives onto the road. The world outside is a blur of colors and lights. Neon signs flicker in the rain, casting a rainbow of colors on the wet pavement. The buildings are tall and imposing, like ancient giants looming over the city. The headlights of passing cars slice through the darkness, creating sharp streaks of light that dance across your vision.
You watch the world pass by in a daze, lost in thought. The rain is a soothing sound, like a lullaby that whispers you to sleep. Joel’s hand on your thigh is a comforting presence, grounding you in reality. 
The rain grows louder, the drops striking the windshield almost violently. Much to your disappointment, he pulls his hand away, leaving you feeling a sudden emptiness. You open your eyes, watching as he shifts gears and maneuvers the car through the busy streets.
You lean your head against the window, watching the world outside blur by in a dizzying whirl. You don’t have much to say and that’s okay. His presence isn’t forcing you to make awkward small talk. You’re completely content just being here with him, a moment you’re positive that you’ll never forget, no matter which direction your relationship with him goes. 
When you finally pull up to your house, dread washes over you. You want to invite him inside for something warm, as a thank you for rescuing you from the rain. But you’re not entirely sure that you should. 
You push back your worries.
“This is me,” you break the silence. "Would you like to come inside for a bit? I have tea and coffee— or perhaps you would prefer wine to warm you up?" 
The last addition was meant as a joke, a little bit of humor to break the tension. Joel’s lips are tightly pressed together, his knuckles almost white from how hard he’s squeezing the steering wheel. After grueling moments of silence, he swallows and turns off the car. 
“Wine sounds great.” 
The sound of your front door closing behind you feels momentous. Ironically enough, you don’t get to open the bottle of wine. You kiss him first, and he follows, pushing you up against the wall with possessive hands. You barely manage to push the door closed. He’s all consuming. Inhaling your chlorine scented skin and drinking lust from your lips. He kneads your breasts in his large palms and you gasp into his mouth, he swallows the sound. Parting away, he licks the seam of your lips before leveling you with a steady gaze. 
“I promised myself to take this slow,” he rasps, panting heavily. When the first hints of laughter tickle the back of your throat, he takes hold of your hips and presses them firmly together. You feel the hardness of his length through the fabric of his jeans. Your eyes roll back. “That feels good don’t it—fuck—I just don’t want to fuck this up, you’re really nice and—” 
“Joel,” you say, cupping his cheeks and forcing him to meet your gaze. “Calm down. You’re not going to fuck this up. We’re in this together. I really want this, you do too. But if you want to go slow, have that wine, we’ll go slow. But I don’t want you to be stressed out of your mind no matter what you choose, okay?” 
He exhales a breath, deep and steady. “Okay,” he says, hands squeezing your hips. “Okay. Sorry ‘bout that. I hope I didn’t scare you off.” 
“You could never,” you say, brushing your lips together. “So, what do you wanna do?” 
“I think I want to show you to a good time, sweetheart.” 
“Meaning?” 
“I want to fuck you.” he swallows. “If you want it too.” 
“Oh, believe me. I do.” 
You catch the curve of a mischievous smile before he crashes into you, claiming your lips in a heady kiss. He pushes a leg between your thighs and your grind down, gasping at the friction. Warmth gathers under the tissue of your stomach, everlasting. It’s been so long since you felt like this. The heat of someone tearing you apart and pulling you back again. 
A pleasant tingle spreads from your legs up your spine. Joel licks into you, his tongue moving over yours. He nips at your bottom lip. You whine when he parts away, his lips leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck. He feels your pulse with his lips. An involuntary giggle leaves you as his mustache chafes the skin. He teeths at the flesh and you grind your hips down once more, wetness growing between your legs. 
“Sweetheart,” he breathes shakily. “Show me to the bedroom.” 
The trip to the bedroom is a disorienting one; A blur of limbs and kisses being traded with one another. You feel like a teenager, not being able to keep away not even for a second. You don’t bother to close the bedroom door. Joel pulls your shirt off, your ears left ringing at the force of it while your hands fumble with his zipper. Joel chuckles and bats your hands away. The way you furrow your brows goes unnoticed. He dips his head, closing his lips around the tight nipple. 
Your legs start to shake. He flicks his tongue, the tight nub pebbling swiftly. Your head falls back, a deep moan coming from the back of your throat. He sucks and moves his jaw, applying pressure. While one hand rests over the curve of your waist, the other promptly toys with your unattended nipple, pinching and twisting until it’s hard and aching. 
“Shit—Joel—” you gasp, voice quivering. “It’s been a while, it feels so good. Fuck.” 
He parts away from your chest, the tip of his tongue swirling deftly around the areola. His warm breath makes you shiver. “That’s okay honey, I’ve got you.” 
“Take this off,” you mumble in a daze, pulling at the hem of his shirt. You bend your knees to cup his erection, it pulses under your palm. “And take these off too. I want you in my mouth.” 
“You’re killin’ me, sweetheart,” he breathes out. “You’d like that, huh? My cock in your mouth, cummin’ down your throat as you wrap them pretty lips around me—what a sight it would be.” 
“Fuck yes,” you choke out, gently pushing him towards the bed. 
You’re almost delusional in the way you speak and move. He’d painted you a picture you so desperately wanted to make into reality. You tug off his shirt as he kicks off his jeans along with his underwear. A sharp exhale parts your lips when you feel his dripping cock against your lower stomach. Heavy and hot, pressing against your skin. You wrap your fingers around the base and they barely close around him. The tips of your ears burn. 
“J-Joel, oh my god,” you say with awe. “I-I don’t know if I can take you all.” 
His fingers touch the back of your neck and he pulls you between his legs as the two of you tumble onto the bed. He gently squeezes, your body melting at the touch. His lips touch your ear. 
“Sure you can, sunshine. We’ll just take it nice and slow, a’right? I’ll fuck this pretty little cunt with just the tip if I have to, it feels good all the same.” his thumb traces your bottom lip, and slowly, he pushes the digit into your mouth. Your eyes fluttering, you suck his thumb. “Just get my dick nice and wet with this dirty tongue of yours. Been twitchin’ since you uttered the words.”  
He pops out his thumb and leaves wet streaks across your cheek. You move down his body, dragging your nails down the swell of his stomach as you get closer and closer to his length. Joel hisses when you wetly kiss the tip, a bead of precum forming. You wrap one hand around the base and rest the other over his stomach, fingers caressing the coarse hairs that form a sinful trail. 
“You’re so big,” you whisper, lips dancing over the length of his throbbing cock. He moans. “That swimsuit of yours doesn’t do you justice at all.” 
“If you continue to talk like that I’m going to bust,” he chokes, hands fisting the sheets. “Please just—” he swallows. “Just stop toyin’ with me.” 
Answering him with a throaty hum, you dip your tongue into the slit, groaning at the taste of him. His cock twitches against your lips, smearing precum over the tender swell of it. Parting your mouth wide, you take the bulbous head between your lips and flatten your tongue. You feel a vein that curls underneath his length. You groan and take him deeper. He’s been truly blessed, the width stretching you wide, forcing saliva to dribble from the corners of your mouth. Your cunt clenches around nothing. Slick glistening at the insides of your thighs. 
You’re still worried about not being able to take him all. You want to feel every inch of him buried deep inside, and even though Joel assured you that it would be okay, you still want this to go perfectly. It’s been a long time for you both, you want it to feel good for him too. 
“Deeper,” he croaks out and when you look up, you find those gorgeous, dazed out, brown eyes looking down at you. “Can you?” 
Your lids flutter heavily. Nodding, you force your head down, your chin straining as you take him halfway. Your vision blurs with tears. Spit oozes down his length, your throat convulsing at the pressure. 
“You’re takin’ it so well,” he praises through grit teeth, his southern drawl deeper and more noticeable than before. “So fuckin’ well. You feel so good—I ain’t gonna last sweetheart.” 
Encouraged by his sudden honesty, you mentally grin. And with more fervor than before, you bounce your head up and down while stroking the rest with your hand. Briefly you remove your lips, swipe your palm over the head and move it back down, coating the rest of him with slick. You take him again, his thighs tightening around your frame, shaking uncontrollably as he forces his hips to remain still. 
Moans echo from the back of Joel’s throat, filling the room with his deep cadence. He reaches out for your hand and locks your fingers together, holding you and guiding your hand further up his stomach. You’re a bit unbalanced now. His cock spears almost painfully down your throat. While trying to limit yourself with only the half of his length, his cock twitches, and throbs. You repeatedly swallow around him, your hand starting to shake. 
Large drops of precum coat your tongue and go down your throat, his grip on your hand painfully tight. You breathe heavily through your nose. He’s about to come. With a ferality you haven’t felt with anyone before, you push apart your legs and force yourself down against the sheets. The soft fabric doing little when it grazes your aching clit. You moan around him. 
Then you find yourself empty. A gasp rips from your throat at the way Joel pulls you off his cock, breathing in heavy pants. Your gaze drops to his cock. The head a beautiful shade of red, glistening with precome and spit. You lick your lips. 
“Sorry,” he grunts, pulling you so that you’re straddling his waist. He pushes himself up by the elbows, face only an inch away from yours. “I didn’t wanna come just yet. Need to feel you around me, sunshine.” 
He closes the distance and claims you with a devout kiss. He tastes himself on your tongue, hips jerking up in a weak attempt to seek you out. You breathe him in. The scent of chlorine and something so undeniable Joel fills your lungs. 
“Don’t keep me waiting then,” you grin against his lips. He mimics your expression grinning as he lays back down. He guides you to raise your hips, and briefly, worry crosses your face. 
A question quickly follows, “What’s wrong?” 
“I…fuck, it’s stupid. Don’t worry about it.” but of course, he doesn’t let go and fixes you a look that has you spilling your guts. “It’s just been a while and well. I’ve never actually done it like…this.” 
“You never rode someone before?” 
You shake your head and bite your bottom lip. Frowning, he touches the abused flesh with his thumb and tugs it away, smoothing it with the pad of his finger. 
“We can switch positions. It’s okay.” 
“But I want to try it.” your words coming out in a rush, it’s followed by a nervous laughter. “I always did, but my partners usually had other plans. And after a while, I just generally chickened out and stopped asking. I got embarrassed.” 
“Oh, honey.” 
Your eyes widen upon feeling his arms around you, pulling you into a bear hug. His hand cradles the back of your head and you bury your face into the crook of his neck. You kiss the skin. Warmth blossoming in your chest. Both of you suspended in the moment, breathing each other in and out. Soon, his fingers trace a path down your spine, and a chill spreads at the end of your back. 
“Believe me,” he mutters, you feel the movement of his jaw. “I would want nothin’ more than to have you on top of me, takin’ you deep. I’m sorry those assholes made you feel otherwise.” 
You choke out a sound, smiling and shaking your head. “It’s not that they were assholes—well, maybe some of them—but maybe I just wasn’t good at expressing myself. Or I just didn’t look…” you clear your throat, his arms tighten around you, forcing the air out of your lungs. “Anyway, it’s not important.” 
“You express yourself fine if you ask me.” his thumb skims over your clit and you gasp. The digit slides between your folds with ease, he hums in approval. “And it looks like your body is expressin’ itself quite well too.” 
An understanding without words forms between your two. He cups your ass and you lift yourself up by holding onto his broad shoulders. Joel jerks himself with one hand before he motions you to lower yourself. Despite how soaking wet you are, the stretch still makes you wince. You continue a bit further, having to stop when it proves to be more painful than pleasurable. Sliding his one hand back to your front, he leisurely circles around your clit. You clench and dig your nails into his shoulders. 
“That’s it, go slow sweetheart. We have all the time in the world. You’re doin’ so good for me. Spreading yourself around my cock like that.” 
Feeling yourself becoming loose, you sink further down, only having to stop again a few inches later. You groan in frustration and Joel puts his mouth on your breasts, sucking. 
You draw in a long breath, “Is that all of it?”
Joel looks up and allows himself to smile. 
“Well, nearly. Just a bit more.” 
His mouth moves down and captures your nipple between his lips. Your walls flutter around him, adjusting to his size. With a moan, you sink down completely, his hips flush against yours. Joel breaks away from your tender skin, both of you moaning loudly in unison. His head falls back against the bedpost, staring at you between heavy lids. He looks completely blissed out. 
Wanting more of the debouched expression, you ever so slightly move up your hips and sit back down again. His eyes squeeze shut, his throat trembling with a wrecked groan. You’re not doing any better, your eyes rolling back as your muscles start to spasm. 
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, you’re wet. Shit. Can I move, sunshine? Please?” 
“God yes,” you breathe out, your head spinning. His hands cup your rear, helping you to lift halfway off his cock before lowering you again. Electricity runs up your spine. Your cry out his name, pulsing around him uncontrollably. “J-Joel, I don’t think I’m gonna last,” you say apologetically. 
“That’s okay,” he groans, voice hoarse. “I ain’t gonna last long either.” 
The two of you capture a soft rhythm that works for the both of you. Joel guides the sloppy roll of your hips, and you do your best to move up and down his cock. Your legs aching due to the swimming. You want to go faster, the burning between your legs growing with every grind of your hips. There’s an itch deep inside. An inch that you can’t seem to scratch with the way you’re moving. You whimper and fix Joel a pleading look. His cock twitches. 
“You want it harder?” he rasps, lashes fluttering. 
“Yes,” you exhale. “Give it to me, Joel. I want you to fuck me hard with this big cock of yours.” you make a show of rolling your tongue and pressing your hips flush against him, grinding yourself into his pelvis. 
“The mouth on you, Jesus.” he drawls but with a smile. Your heart skips a beat, a grin of your own touching your lips. 
You’re confused when Joel sucks two fingers into his mouth. Not that you’re complaining. You see the pink of his tongue, the glistening spit that coats his thick fingers. Pulling them out, Joel massages your asscheeks and spreads them, you moan as the open air hits your other hole. He brushes two wet fingers over the rim, making you quiver. 
“Feels good?” 
You nod and he slips one finger, your entire body jolts, your breath catching in your throat. However, you don’t have time to focus on the new sensation. Joel presses his feet into the mattress and with fervor, he starts fucking up into you. Railing you until you’re gasping for air and left feeling nothing else but the heavy stroke of his cock. You shout his name, your lungs burn. 
“That’s it make a mess of me, darlin’. Such a good fuckin’ girl. All you need is my help isn’t it? Look at you, doin’ so well for me.” the words he continues to mutter force out a visceral reaction from you. You claw at his chest. Dragging them down as his cock spears into you over and over. The slick sounds echoing throughout the room. You notice him watching where you two connect, he looks hypnotized. His lips parting as he watches his cock disappear into your wet cunt. 
He pushes his finger in deeper and you’re suddenly aware of how full you feel. Your arms that keep you upright buckle and you fall down, covering him like a blanket. An apology touches your lips, but before you can, Joel’s lips are already on your temple, kissing and whispering praise all the while continuing to fuck you senseless. He pulls out his finger and slightly lifts your hips for a better angle. You whine at the loss and hear him chuckle. 
“Another time, sunshine.” 
Your walls start to spasm and contract, his hips start to stutter. His strong steady strokes becoming sloppy and rushed, he pushes you down against him rolling his hips and grinding deeper into you. Fuck. Your head is spinning violently. Your cunt dripping and making a mess of his cock. He rubs into you again, the dark hairs that crown his length stimulating your throbbing clit. 
A silent scream shakes your chest. You see white before you squeeze him tight, the force of it making his breath hitch. You gush around him. Slick rolling down his cock and seeping into the sheets. You don’t even notice the wet tears smeared all over your face as you nuzzle him. Waves of pleasure wash over you again and again. Leaving you shaking and panting for air. Joel holds you still, his hands comforting against your heated skin. 
Your jaw goes slack when he gently thrusts up again, shushing you when you let out a whine. 
“Where do you want me?” 
It takes you a while to understand the question. Lifting your head, you give him a blank stare. His eyes glimmer with amusement, a lopsided smile forming on his lips. 
“Look at you,” he coos. “Pretty little thing completely fucked out. You look beautiful, sweetheart.” 
You’re pretty sure you actually purr at his words. You leisurely smile. You lift your hips and push them back down, both of you groaning in delight. He keeps uttering pretty from under his breath, his own composure breaking down. Another orgasm rolls over you, albeit much softer this time, like a fire warming your skin. You sigh happily, kissing him on the lips. 
“Where?” he asks, a bit more desperate this time. 
“My mouth.” 
“Oh, fuck.” 
Everything is sloppy and uncoordinated. You’re not even sure how you make your way down between his legs. You’re still throbbing when you suck on the tip, your eyes closing as you taste the mixture of you and himself. You take him as deep as you can, feeling him at the back of your throat. He holds your head but doesn’t force you to the more. 
“Sweetheart, move your tongue.” 
Your skin prickles at how hoarse he sounds. You happily obliged, stroking the underside of his cock with the flat of your tongue. He sucks in a sharp breath, his chest expanding, and on the exhale, he lets out the loudest moan of the night. It comes from the depths of his lungs. His hips jerk, finally spilling down your throat, you swallow him greedily, your walls pulsing with a need to be stretched again. 
He comes and comes and comes. There’s so much of it. It floods your mouth, trickling down your chin. You breathe heavily. His cock throbs on your tongue and god you love the feeling. 
“Fuuuuuuuuuck, that felt so good.” his hands fall limp to his side. With a grin, you release his cock and swallow once more, more audibly this time. His dark gaze drops to your lips. He shakily wipes the come that spilled from your lips, popping it back into your mouth. You lick at the digit eagerly. “I should thank whoever it was that stole your umbrella,” he mumbles. 
“We should get them a cake,” you tease, kissing the empty patch on his beard. “So…should we get cleaned up and then…talk?” 
He squeezes your hips and then follows the curve of your spine. “Sounds like a plan, sunshine.” 
You end up sharing that bottle of wine after all. 
2K notes · View notes
loserforeddie · 2 years
Text
Shot In The Dark
(yes again the song is based on the Ozzy Osbourne song. But it makes sense trust me)
Summary: When the popular good-grade student start to talk to Eddie Munson, he thinks it’s too good to be true. They become quick friends, but when she asks him out, learns that it was too good to be true...
Eddie Munson x fem! reader
Warnings: Bullying, Eddie thinking he got asked out by the reader as a joke, Eddie not understanding feelings, shy reader
Word count: 3.3k
SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG YALL. also this is gonna be two parts! also male version of this story will be posted soon!
Part 2 here :)
. . . .
Eddies eyes followed you as you walked down the aisle of the cafe. Your tray in one hand and an English book in the other.
He watched slowly as your eyes pointed straight ahead, not even glancing at him. Not that he had expected you to. 
You, being “Hawkin’s Pride and Joy” would never give him the time of day. Not with your grades or social standing. And it was pathetic of him to even hope you would.
And yet still, you had given him the time of day. 
Four weeks ago, to be exact. 
He was in the library, a place he rarely was, trying so hard to study for Mrs. O’Donelle’s next test. It was getting late, nearing eight, and he knew he should get going. 
But still, he had no idea what this test was even on. He stared blankly at the test review page in front of him. Hoping if he stared long enough, it would somehow make sense. 
But, it didn’t.
He let out a long, dramatic sigh. Flinging his head back and rolling his eyes.
Normally, he was sure someone would have shushed him or given him a dirty look for all the commotion he was causing. But no one was in the library at that time, he knew that no one would be as dumb as him to stay this late-
“Excuse me,” a voice behind him said, “Is that seat taken?” You asked so politely as you pointed to the seat next to him.
He jumped, startled by your soft voice.
Your eyes stared down into his, you had your normal amount of makeup on, but the lipgloss you wore made your lips stand out more to him. You wore something so casual, a normal every-day-outfit, but still, everything about you screamed polished, pristine. 
He gulped, nodding before saying, “N-No, it’s not.”
You gave him a small smile before setting your bag and books down next to him.
Up until that moment, he had never truly given you the time of day, never looked in your direction, never even thought about you.
And yet, here you were, sitting next to him, almost elbow to elbow.
You turned over to him smiling, “My name is Y/N, and you’re Eddie right?”
He gawked at you for a minute. You remembered his name? What mythical world was this?
After a very strange and long silence, he finally said, “Uh-yeah, yeah that’s me. Eddie.”
God, he wanted to shoot himself. 
But you just smiled at him, “That’s cool. What test you’ studying for? Mines for Pinleiy, his class is seriously kicking my ass.”
His eyebrows quirked up, he didn’t expect someone like you to swear. And yet, he also didn’t expect you to sit with him. 
“O'Donnell,” he said, a bit quietly.
You groaned, “Oh my god, she’s such a bitch! I hated her class. She made everything so difficult for everyone, those homework assignments always kicked my ass.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow. Where you, Y/N L/N, really trying to start a conversation with him? 
He paused for a minute. 
“Yeah, she sucks man. I failed her class twice.”
You looked over your shoulder, checking to see if anyone was there. Before looking back at him smirking, “Don’t tell anyone, but on her last final I totally cheated!”
Eddie’s eyebrows shot up, “No way, the Y/N L/N? Na, I ain't buying it.”
You giggled, “It’s true! I wrote my notes on my arm.”
Eddie scoffed, “Please, that’s the oldest shit in the book. You probably got caught but Mrs. O’Donnell let you get away with it because of how much of a goody-two-shoes you are.”
You gasped at him, “I’m hurt! I’ll have you know I was super slick about it!”
Eddie let out a laugh, a genuine laugh, “Please, I highly doubt that.”
You huffed, “You know, I was going to ask if you needed help studying, but after this, I will no longer be offering my services.”
He chuckled, “You? Help me? Come on, this has to be some sort of sick joke.”
But you shook your head, “Nope. I mean it, if you want, I can help you. Seriously.”
He looked at you, your eyes twinkling with sincerity. 
He let out a sigh, “Yeah, I mean if the smartest girl in Hawkins offers to tutor you, you kinda have to say yes, right.”
You giggled, “I don’t know if I’d say I’m the smartest-”
Eddie let out a laugh, “Oh come on, don’t be so modest. You and that Wheeler girl are like, stupidly smart. And popular, Jesus what a match.”
You rolled your eyes, “I’m not popular-”
But Eddie cut you off again, “Uh-huh, you tell yourself that, sweetheart.”
At the mention of the nickname, he notices your composer shift, only for a moment. You become flustered, your calm and charming exterior cracked for just a moment. Replaced with a shy, flustered girl.
“But,” Eddie continued, “yes, I would appreciate any help.”
After he said that, you perked up. 
“W-well, um, let’s get started!”
You two stayed for a while until he felt confident about his ability to actually pass this upcoming test. 
He beamed at you, “Wow, thanks Y/N. Damn, might even get myself an A.”
You giggled at his pride, your eyes shining with admiration. “You worked hard, I’m sure you’ll do great.”
Eddie gave you a goofy grin, “Na, I could never get this far without you…thank you Y/N.”
He saw your eyes dart away from his, face flushed, “Oh yeah, yeah don’t even worry about it. Just think of it as..as a favor.”
Eddie cocked a brow at you, “Damn, one heck of a favor. You know you didn’t have to do this, right? I mean, we don’t even know each other.”
You smiled at him, and a felt a small pull in his gut. 
“I don’t know, I thought it would be nice. And besides, I had nothing else going on. And you’re pretty good company, Munson.”
He didn’t know why, but he felt his heart start to race in his chest, and the feeling of his stomach doing jumping jacks when your eyes met his. Had you always been so pretty?
He gulped down his nerves, “You’re not so bad yourself, Y/N.”
You smiled at that, “Glad you think so.”
. . . 
After a few days, you talked to him again.
He was at one of his favorite music stores, He lost his favorite tape of Iron Maiden (Piece of Mind) and realized he needed it in order to be able to jam out properly.
And he loved this little music shop. Notably, it had mostly rock and metal songs, but it also had popular and more mainstream artists as well. He grimaced at the Beatles and Bowie cover next to his beloved Black Sabbath. 
He sighed, finally finding the album he needed. 
Just as he was about to head over to the counter, he heard the door open followed by a familiar voice.
“Pardon me,” he heard you say, “do you happen to have any Metallica tapes? For a walkman?”
He swore his heart did a double-take, seeing your pretty face in such a dark place as this small music shop, really made you stand out.
Not to mention, you had just asked if they had any Metallica. That was enough to get his heart pumping louder than it had before.
As one of the employees showed you the way to one of the metal sections of the store, he followed you.
“Right here, ma’am. We even got the newest album, let me know if you need any help,” the employee said politely, before walking away.
As you searched, he came up behind you.
“Didn’t realize you liked Metallica.”
He saw you jump at his words, your face shooting back to his.
“Wow!” He said, “Easy there! Didn't mean to frighten you.”
You shook your head, “Sorry I just didn't see you there. And um… I'm not a Metallica fan. I just- I just heard they were good.”
Eddie nodded, smirking, “Well sweetheart, you heard right. Metallica is pretty good man, especially if you just trying to get into metal. But you don't really seem like the metal type.”
At that, he saw your face flush, “I wanted to try something new, I guess.”
He smiled, “Hey no shame in that. I respect it actually.”
He looked around before pulling a tape out of his pocket, “Here, take this one so you don’t have to pay for it. Just give it back whenever.”
The album was Master of Puppets. It was new, considering the album had just come out, so it was in pretty good condition. 
Your eyes widened as you took it, “No, I couldn’t-”
But he just smiled, “I insist. Just give it back to me the next time you see me, alright? I’m returning my favor, from when you helped tutor me, remember?”
You nodded, smiling, “Well, that’s very generous of you, Munson, I appreciate it. And yes, next time I see you, I’ll give it back.”
. . .
And he did see you again. In a place that he least expected.
His band was playing at the Hideout, a not-so-popular bar in town. The crowd is maybe filled with four or five drunk old men, and the smell of cheap booze lingered in the air.
But I didn't care, he played his guitar until his fingers felt like they couldn't strum a single chord anymore. He played until he physically felt like he was going to fall off his feet.
 And when he finished playing, the one thing he least expected to happen, came true.
Applause was heard in the bar, from one pair of hands.
His eyes widened, seeing your pretty face beaming up at him.
You were seated in a booth, near the back of the bar. You were dressed in a normal, comfy outfit. But still, it made his lungs run out of fresh air.
 As you continue clapping, you looked up at him smiling, a genuine smile.
 He felt his heart do a flip.
 As the band started to pack up their equipment, you made your way over to him.
“Wow! You guys are so good!” 
Eddie’s eyes widened, where you really here for them?
As if you could read his mind, you said quickly, “I-I just came in because I was studying nearby and saw you playing. But wow! I didn’t even know you played!”
Eddie could feel his heart skip at your praise. 
“Ah, well. Thanks, sweetness, but we don't really get that much of a crowd.”
Eddie gestured around the bar where most of the men were now almost completely passed out.
You smiled, your eyes locking with his, “Maybe you’re just ahead of your time, Munson.”
He could feel his cheeks becoming hot, and he had to look away from your eyes so you wouldn’t notice. 
He coughed and laughed slightly, “Yeah..yeah I guess you could say that.”
Before you could respond, one of Eddie’s bandmates made his way over to you two, “Hey man, the vans all packed up,” he looked over at you, raising an eyebrow, “Sorry was I interrupting something?”
Eddie paused, but you shook your head, “No, I was just saying how good you guys were! You’re the drummer, right? You did really well! I’ll have to come back again and listen to you guys more.”
Gareth gaped at you, eye’s in disbelief.
You shuffled awkwardly, before saying, “Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. My name Y/N L/N, I think we had English together last year.”
As if broken out of a trance, Gareth nodded vigorously, “Um-yeah. English…yeah with Mrs. Kelly. Yeah, I remember, you were my partner for a project. Something about The Great Gatsby?”
You laughed a bit, and Eddie was suddenly very aware of his fist clutching his guitar pick so hard he felt a sting of pain in his palm.
“Yeah, I remember. We had to make a poster about the life-changing aspects of the 1920’s. Oh my god, it was so boring.”
You and Gareth laughed at a shared memory, and Eddie decided that he had had enough.
He tried his best to sound nonchalant, but he knew he just came off brash, “Here man, take these and get the van started.” Eddie handed him his keys, “I’ll be out in a sec.”
Gareth took the keys from Eddie, giving a knowing smirk as he walked away. Eddie could have even sworn he saw him wink at him as he walked off.
You shifted nervously from foot to foot, before Eddie finally piped up, “So um- you liked the show?”
Your eyes lit up, “Yeah, I really did! Oh my gosh, and you’re guitar playing? It was so sick!”
Eddie laughed, “Wow, you might be our first-ever fan, Y/N.”
You smiled up at him, lashes fluttering lightly, “Then I hope to stay your number one fan.”
He smiled at that. How cute, he thought.
Your eyes lit up, and you reached into your pocket, “I almost forgot!”
You pulled out a tape, handing it back to him, “You were right, the album was so good! I loved every second of it. Thank you for letting me borrow it.”
Eddie nodded, “Yeah I mean of course. I have a few other recommendations if you’re every not too busy-”
“I mean, I’m not busy right now?”
Eddie smiled, preparing fully to blow off his band mates, “Well then, sit down sweetheart.”
. . . 
You too continued to talk more and more after that, mostly out of school. And most of the time, you’d somehow find him.
And yet, he couldn’t get you out of his brain.
It had actually started to interfere with his life. He couldn’t write any new D&D campaign ideas because all he could think about was your smile, he couldn’t play his guitar because all he could think about was how you praised him that night at the Hideout.
He had even stopped making a commotion whenever you were around, choosing to stay quiet whenever you entered a room.
But that was because he normally couldn’t take his eyes off of you.
And yet, for the last few days, he had heard nothing from you. Not a nice small conversation, a “how are you”, not even a few glances at him. Nothing. 
He normally wouldn’t have cared, who was this girl? Some prissy prep? Why should he care if she come up to him and started talking to him again? 
But he did. He cared. He wanted to hear her sweet voice again. To watch her pretty eyes light up when she was working on homework. He wanted to see her smile up at him, to feel his heart beat out of his chest. He wanted desperately to walk up to her himself. 
But he stilled himself. He knew that he probably shouldn’t read into anything, he didn’t want to seem desperate. Even if he found himself falling for someone he desperately wish he didn’t.
He sighed, walking to his next class after lunch was over. 
He spent the whole period thinking about you, which wasn’t uncommon for him anymore, he’d usually think about you for most of the day.
He hated how he couldn’t just go up to you. Why’d he have to wait for you? Why couldn’t he just stop being a pussy and start a conversation with you?
But he knew the answer, it was because he was a coward. 
He sighed as the final bell rang.
“Finally,” he muttered under his breath as he left the school, walking over to his van.
But as he got closer, he saw a familiar face.
He felt his feet hiccup on the ground, the air flying out of his lungs.
But your face lit up as he approached, eyes sparling under the sun's light. Your beautiful face illuminated by the suns light made his heart momentarily stop working.
God, you were driving him insane.
This was definitely new, however, you would never approach him at school. He tried to calm himself down as he approached you, trying his best to become more nonchalant. 
You waved at him, “Hey Eddie!”
“Hey there sweetheart, what are you doing here?”
Your eyes faltered, looking down at your shoes. “Well- I,” you breathed in heavily, hands fidgeting lightly.
He raised an eyebrow, why were you suddenly so nervous? You had been waiting by his van after all.
“You alright, Y/N?”
Your eyes looked up quickly, you bit your lip shyly.
“I-um…I had a question…for you.”
He gave you a confused look, “Alright, shoot. I’m not gonna bite,” he said laughing.
Your hands shook and somehow you found your voice, “I was wondering if…maybe you’d wanna…go on a date?”
Eddie immediately felt like he had been shoved to the ground, the air in his lungs escaping him as he gaped at you. Eyes blew wide as he tried to comprehend what you had just asked him.
He, go on a date, with you? This couldn’t be real, like some sort of dream, or-
And then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw them. Your friends, pointing and laughing, at him.
Suddenly, it all made sense. 
Of course, you’d never ask him out, of course, you’d never actually have any sort of feelings for him. You avoided him like the plague at school, why would you ever want to be seen with him? And why right now? You would never go out  with a freak like him.
Of course, this was some sick joke, it was so obvious. He had just been so blind by his own feelings that he pushed reality aside.
And when they saw him staring back, your friends continued to point and laugh, giggling at his dismay. 
“Eddie?” Your sweet, soft voice called back to him. Your eyes were looking at the floor, leg bouncing anxiously, “You don’t have to say yes, I understand. It’s fine, I just wanted to be able to tell you that I-”
Eddie cut you off with a cold laugh.
“Whatever Y/N. You can drop it now.”
Your eyes shot up, looking at him confused, “Wha-”
Eddie shook his head, a mad grin plastered on his face, “I knew that someone like you couldn't be so nice. So what was it then, a dare? A bet? Come on sweetheart,” the nickname dripped with venom, “you don’t have to pretend anymore. I saw your little friends laughing over there. Don’t play so innocent.” 
He pointed over to your friends, watching as they stumbled back with laughter. 
Your eyes widened as you saw your supposed friends (the girls on the cheer squad that you would sometimes sit with at lunch) laughing at you two.
“Wait, Eddie, please I-”
But he shook his head, “I don’t want to hear it Y/N.”
He started walking away, towards the door of his van, you protested as he did so.
He snapped, turning around to you, “You know, I thought you were different, I thought you were nice. I thought…hell, I don’t know what I thought. But you seemed so genuine. But I guess that was all an act, huh? Should have known, yeah I should have known. Stuck up Y/N, always thinks she’s better than everyone around her. Such a bitch and everyone knows it,” he hated seeing the hurt in your eyes, but he kept going, “such a goddamn stuck-up priss, a goddamn people pleaser. An attention whore. I should have known better.”
He hopped in his van, slamming his door as he refused to listen to your pleas.
“Eddie stop! Really, I meant it!”
But he had already started driving away, leaving you in the dust of his tires and tears running down your cheeks.
. . .
Part two coming soon!
7K notes · View notes
artiststarme · 5 months
Text
It's No Secret... Anymore
Thank you to @mx-jinxous for the prompt! This took a really long time to write but it was so much fun playing with everyone's dynamics. I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!
~*~*~*~
Steve felt like he was dreaming. It felt like he was looking through someone else’s eyes, dissociating far from his own body. He couldn’t feel the weight of Eddie’s slowly-fading body in his arms or the burning of the wounds in his sides. He wasn’t aware of where he was or if anyone was following him. He was purely relying on muscle memory and muscle memory alone. 
He didn’t see the speeding car in front of him that swerved into a nearby bush and fence post. He hardly noticed the hands pulling him backward and out of the road. He came back to himself though once he heard his brother’s voice. 
“Steve? Steve-O? Come on buddy, you’re worrying me here. Where have you been? I haven't seen your ass all week. Come on man, are you… are you fucking bleeding? Brother, answer me. We can’t be out here, there’s an earthquake going on. Come with me.”
Steve blinked just to come face to face with Phil. He was shining his flashlight on Eddie’s face against Steve’s shoulder but his eyes were focused directly on Steve’s.
“You with me, bro?” His mustache twitched unhappily and Steve rushed to answer. 
“Um, no. Not really. I think he’s dying and I kinda might be too. And I think my friends are missing? Where am I?” Steve couldn’t get his thoughts together cohesively. His mind was fractured, overcome with too much trauma in too little time. 
Phil just looked more concerned at his words with his face becoming vaguely panicked once he looked at Eddie. He looked quickly up at Steve, down at Eddie, then back at Steve. “Is this Eddie Munson? The murderer Eddie Munson? The Eddie Munson that has been on the run all week? Good golly Steve, I’m trying not to curse but what the fuck?”
Steve just looked at the pinched expression of pain that Eddie held and murmured, “he’s my friend.”
“Oh my god, Steve. Fine, we’ll deal with this later. Think you can walk to my squad car? I kinda damaged the front end but I’m sure it's semi-driveable. Powell’s tied up with the gates to hell opening up, I have plenty of time to take care of you.”
“Yeah, I can- I can walk,” and he could with the support of Phil. He felt his brother supporting both his and Eddie’s weight until they were deposited into the backseat of the patrol unit. 
“And uh, is the girl hiding in the bushes with you? She’s kinda been watching us for awhile. You might have a stalker, little bro.” He shined his flashlight over to the bush and saw a sandy bob duck behind the foliage. 
“Robin?” Steve muttered, still out of it and only on the verge of consciousness. 
“Buckley, is that you? Come on, you’re coming with us back to Steve’s place. Let’s go,” Phil waved the light between the two. He had both hands on his hips and stood like a disappointed middle-aged dad. “I don’t have time to be doing things willy-nilly. Let’s go!”
Robin poked her head out of the bushes and scooted gracelessly over to the car until she was able to bump elbows with Steve. They both relaxed a smidgen within the same space, the two brain cells reuniting after a stressful ten minutes apart.
Phil hopped in the driver’s seat and bumped his head against the steering wheel. What had this idiot gotten himself into now?
~*~*~*~
By the time Phil arrived at his house at the edge of the suburbs, all three kids were out cold in his backseat. He stood at the open back door for a moment before sighing and lugging first Robin, then Eddie, then Steve into his living room, huffing with exertion all the while. He would definitely have to cut back on the station donuts and start exercising again. Right after he dealt with the dying fugitive on his brother’s couch, the blood seeping through Steve’s shirt, and his brother’s unconscious best friend that was snoring atrociously. 
Jesus Christ. 
Well, he had plenty of practice with medical care from his EMT training so he got to work. He got the first aid kit out of the squad car and started with the murderous Munson. Phil didn’t know what had happened to these kids but it couldn’t be any good. Munson’s entire torso was torn apart like he’d been gnawed on by a wild animal. It wasn’t bleeding too bad but he was missing chunks of skin, so much so that Phil couldn’t sew him up with just sutures. Hell, this kid was going to need skin grafts. A lot of them. 
He put gauze on the worst of the wounds then cautiously stepped over to Steve. What he’d seen on Munson made him hesitant to look at the damage but surely it couldn’t be worse than that. Right? As soon as he lifted Steve’s shirt, he came immediately to two conclusions. 
1. Steve had a lot more chest hair than he did and that was totally unfair.
2. The wounds on Steve’s abdomen were deep, infected, and horrific. 
Just like with Munson, there was nothing to close. All he saw were missing chunks of skin and muscle that should have been in his sides. The marred remains were covered in grime and yellowish puss that made the entire room smell of infection. 
Fuck, he couldn’t help them here. He had to get them, all three of them because he wasn’t touching an unconscious girl for anything, to a hospital. But that begged the question; which hospital? Munson… Eddie was wanted all through the state of Indiana for at least three murders and an assault. If he took him to any nearby hospital, he would be arrested and surely there was more to the story if Steve was protecting him so much. He couldn’t let one of Steve’s only friends get arrested without hearing the story from the both of them. 
He had to take these three up to a hospital in Illinois. Chicago was roughly four hours away, he knew from his and Steve’s annual visits to their great aunt in Evanston. It was a risk, both for aiding and abetting a wanted fugitive as well as hoping he survived that long of a drive, but his gut told him to trust his brother on this one. So that’s what he did. He loaded the three teens back into his patrol car and mumbled swears under his breath when he passed the “Leaving Hawkins” sign. He hoped to all that was mighty that he was making a good call. 
~*~*~*~
Steve woke up to familiar voices; one hushed and one screeching. 
“You kidnapped them?! You’re a cop, I thought you would help them but instead you drove them all the way to goddamn Chicago like some middle-aged pervert loser?” Steve came around to a loud argument between what sounded like Dustin and Phil. It was weird though because he’d never introduced the two. 
“Hey, listen here shithead, words hurt. I am not middle-aged, I’m 28. And why would I kidnap my own brother? I can legally take him anywhere, it's practically my birthright. I don’t have to go through all the work of kidnapping him.” Phil shook his head at Dustin.
“Stop trying to trick me, I know Eddie is an only child!”
“Munson?! I’m Steve’s big brother, you little gremlin. Can’t you see the resemblance?” He gestured between where Steve was groggily looking up at him and then back at himself. 
“No, but I can’t see anything past your outrageous mustache.” Steve saw Phil’s jaw drop and knew that Dustin had crossed a line. 
“You short fucker, that is too far! I take a lot of pride in this ‘outrageous mustache’,” Phil put air quotes around the offending remake before pointing an aggressive finger in Dustin’s direction. “I will absolutely take you off the visitation list, toothless. Do not test me.” 
“Don’t threaten me, I’ll report you to the authorities!” Dustin countered. 
“I am the authorities!” Phil dropped all decorum and screamed at practically the top of his lungs. 
Sensing enough was enough, Steve tried to push himself up to a sitting position before a burning in his sides caused him to fall back down. Both men (or one man and Dustin) stopped their squabbling and rushed to his sides.
“Steve, you’re hurt so don’t try to get up. Shit kid, let me get a nurse or something. You weren’t doing too hot.” With that Phil sprinted out of the room, presumably to the nurse’s station and Steve was left with Dustin, Nancy, Jonathan, and Robin. 
He looked blearily at all of them before asking the most important question, “where’s Eddie?”
They all parted to reveal Eddie lying in the bed next to him. His neck and chest were covered with bandages but his face looked peaceful. There were no cuffs on his wrists as Steve assumed there would be. He laid back again and let out a sigh. Everything was as it should be, he could finally relax.
“Um so Steve, don’t be mad but your brother can be really persuasive when he wants to be and you never introduced him as your brother so I just kind of assumed that we were getting captured by the police and that it was going to be so much worse than the Russians because I always thought Officer Callahan was kind of psycho. But then I woke up here and he bought me Cheetos so everything is fine. Except it's kind of not because you and Eddie have been out for a couple of days and I told Big Not-Harrington about the Upside Down and now he’s really worried. Why did you have to stay asleep so long, dingus? I missed you!”
Steve honestly zoned out when he heard “Cheetos” and only tuned back in when Robin, the usual physical affection-hater, threw herself on top of him in a hug. He withheld the grunt of pain and held her back just as hard. 
“What the hell just happened, bro? Like that was a lot of words, little bird lady. Woah.”
Steve didn’t know if he was hallucinating the long-haired surfer in a Hawaiian outfit or if Vecna had somehow managed to melt his mind after all but he had never been more confused in his life to see the new visitor make themselves known. 
“Who the fuck is that?” He muttered in absolute bafflement. 
Dustin sighed as he too wrestled a hug from Steve, “that’s Argyle. Come on, Steve. Keep up.”
“Like the sock pattern? How many drugs am I on right now?!”
~*~*~*~
“... and that’s kind of why I didn’t tell you about the Upside Down,” Steve finished from his seat beside Eddie, their hands tangled together as they both sat across from Phil. 
He looked at both of them with a completely deadpan stare. “Again, but the truth this time.”
Eddie huffed in annoyance. “We are telling you the truth, man! An evil wizard guy named Vecna-”
“Slash Henry, slash One,” Steve and Robin interjected in unison.
“-possessed four teenagers to end the world or something and broke their bodies apart with his mind. Then the angry mob thought it was me but I would never kill anyone, especially not Chrissy. She was always really nice to me and remembered my band from the talent show in middle school. And then we got stuck in Hell where evil demon bats ate our flesh and tentacles ripped through the earth. Then we saved Nancy from the evil mind melt powers by playing her favorite song. After that, we made a plan and she shot Vecna and killed him while Dustin and I were decoys where I was attacked.”
“Then I went back for Eddie and carried him out where you almost ran us over. The end,” Steve emphasized the finale with a deliberate nod of his still-aching head. 
Phil looked at them with the most exasperation Steve had ever seen in his life. He let out a pitying chuckle, his poor brother didn’t sign up for this. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”
Phil's eyes rolled so hard that Steve could tell he saw stars. He could almost see the scream being prepared in his throat and couldn't gather enough strength to escape it.
"STEVEN MICHAEL HARRINGTON, WHAT THE MOTHERLOVING FUCK?!"
"Look Philly, I'll say it one more time then I'm done, okay? It first started way back when Will Byers went missing in 1983..."
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neverinadream · 3 months
Text
Where The Storyline Ends
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Summary: Is this where the storyline ends?
Pairing: Mason Mount x Fem!Reader
Requested: Nope
Song Inspo: Enchanted (Taylor's Version) - Taylor Swift
Warnings: 18+, minors dni, smut, nsfw, mason mount x ex!reader, ex-situationship, suggestive language, toxic!mason, jealous!mason, voicemail sex (?), masturbation, mentions of oral sex, consumption of alcohol, suggestions of cheating...not edited
Notes: do i know what this is or how this came about? absolutely not. when do i ever when i write something for mason?? anyway, here you filthy whores 🫶🏻 as always, feedback is always appreciated
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yourusername
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liked by masonmount, yourbestfriend, user235 & 4,279 others
tagged: yourboyfriend
yourusername: what was it that taylor said...i was enchanted to meet you? 🩷
view all comments
yourbestfriend: this is freakin' exciting! 🤗
yourusername: 💕
benchilwell: when do i get to meet him?
yourusername: absolutely not
benchilwell: i just need to have one conversation with him
levicolwill: yeah, just one conversation...
reece: not even a conversation, just a few words with him...
yourusername: look what you've started 🙄
user356: her and @.masonmount are over then?
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"Hi, it's, uh, it's been a minute, right?" Mason mumbles, the empty bottles of beer antagonising him from the coffee table, the bitter taste on his tongue fuelling his decision to dial your number. "I saw your post." He rolls his eyes to no one. "So, you guys are like official now? Congrats, I guess." An awkward chuckle slips off his lips, filling the silences where you might have talked. "God, this is pathetic - we were just meant to be casual, no strings attached, so I really shouldn't be pissed about this, pissed about those stupid photos, your arms around him, that stupid fuckin' caption..."
He takes a deep breath, reaching for the most recent bottle to take a long sip. "Speaking of photos, I was looking at a really cute one of you earlier. Can you guess which one? I know," he puts the bottle back, "there's a lot to choose from, but it was the one of you on some bathroom floor, your ass in the air, and my cock in your mouth." The memory shoots straight to his cock, it twitching and pulsing inside his sweats, aching for his attention, for your attention, as he recalls the events of that night. "God, you looked so fucking pretty that night. Your lips stretching around my shaft, drooling down my dick, your eyes looking up into the camera...Did you know you get so whiney when you're horny? Even with my cock stuffed inside that tight little throat, you were still begging for more."
For a few seconds, he goes silent, almost wishing you had answered the call, wanting to know if he could still get hard from your bratty mouth.
"Quick question, does he know?" He pauses, tipping his head back and sighing as he palms his cock through the front of his sweats. "I mean, it's not like you did anything wrong; you were just starting to see him, it's not like you were exclusive. But does he know? Does he know what you were doing on the nights between those first...first five or six dates?" He untucks his cock, a sigh filling the silence as he strokes his thumb along the slit, messing the tip of his cock with precum. "You guys go to dinner, brunch, a movie, maybe he took you to a gallery - you like all that art shit, right? Every time, he gets nervous. He gets bufferflies. Why wouldn't he? I mean, just look at you. 'Oh, she likes me. She really, really likes me.'"
"Does he know that when he took you on that cute picnic on the Saturday, that I was fuckin' you stupid on the Sunday?" He continued, lazily stroking himself, squeezing his fingers tighter each time he got closer to the tip. He licked his lips, a flash of the memory playing on the back of his eyelids. You on your front, him pushing your face into the pillow as you took his cock like a good girl, calling yourself daddy's little cock sleeve and begging him to drain his balls into you. "You whined so much about your legs hurting, that you couldn't ride my cock like you wanted to, so you just laid on your stomach and let me pound you prone."
"That was a good afternoon. Burying my face in you from behind, listening to you calling me 'daddy' as you gripped so tightly onto the sheets; burying my face, eating your pussy and ass until you soaked my face with your cum." His movements turn faster, his breath becoming laboured as he fisted his cock to the memory. "Fuck, I miss it - I miss how good your pussy taste, how it would just get all over my mouth. It's not fair, baby, it's not fair that I won't get to taste you again. I need to taste you again. Just one last time."
He groans, tipping his head back, Adam's apple bobbing, a small bead of sweat rolling down the column of his neck. He needed you. He needed to feel your clit between his lips, to feel you squirm and twitch about as he sucked it into his mouth until it was nothing but a swollen and throbbing nub. To feel that familiar stretching of your pussy as he thrusts his cock inside, have it drip and gush all over it as he squeezes his hand tight around your throat. To watch you with your tongue sticking out, begging for him to give you his spit. To do all the nasty things he knows you'll never do with your new boyfriend.
"I wish you were here right now to watch me come," he begs, squeezing his fist tighter, stroking himself to release, "you could be, you could come here and be my perfect little fuck toy again. Bend you over the back of the sofa, leave my handprints - oh, fuck - on your ass - yes, yes, yes!" Cum coats his hand and his stomach, his hand still jerking the length of his shaft, the sensitive tip twitiching as he keeps rambling into his phone "Come to me, baby, let me have you one last time..."
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masonmount
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masonmount: what was it that taylor said...please don't be in love with someone else?
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