#Holidays Suck Series | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

atticrissfinch · 5 months

Text

(His) Home for the Holidays: A Meet Me in the Back Christmas Special | (joel miller x fem!reader) (18+)

Part 4 of Meet Me in the Back

pairing: sleazy gas station clerk!joel miller x fem!reader summary: joel texts you while he's horny during the holidays, and you decide to visit him at his house after work. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] age gap (no specifics), size!kink, daddy!kink, face-ridin', dick-ridin', ass-eatin' (Joel tosses reader’s salad and gives her a side of housemade ranch iykyk), kissing after said ass-eating, some nasty cumplay, brief fingering, kissing!!!, taking nude photos, unprotected PIV, pussy...job? idk reader strokes him off w her pussy lips, v brief mentions of cigarettes and weed, fluff??, characters actively avoiding Feelings™!!!, so many fucking stupid dirty christmas puns, reader can fit in Joel’s coat, has hair, and doesn't necessarily celebrate christmas, but is very familiar with it ig word count: ~5.2K | ao3 a/n: thank you guys so much for loving this fucker as much as me. we get into some real naughty list shit here!! i hope you like it, and don't be mad at me about the end ok thx <3 also s/o to @cafekitsune for the adorable divider! Taglist Update: I have decided to decommission my taglist in favor of an updates blog! Please follow @atticrissfinchupdates and opt in for notifications to get notified when I post a new fic! Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Kofi

The days before the Christmas holiday are always the longest. The office is relatively empty, no real action happening, and yet you’re stuck here for eight hours a day regardless. You find yourself bogged down with busy work and rubbing at your eyes with the strain of staring at your screen.

You hear a vibration on your desk and check your phone.

Joel: Wat r u up 2?

You roll your eyes a little, but you won’t lie to yourself. You're glad for the distraction.

You: Working

Joel: cum over

You: I literally just said I’m working dude

Joel: leave early. want u

You: I can’t just leave early. I’m stuck here.

You huff and toss your phone on your desk, trying to get back into your flow, but your phone keeps buzzing.

Joel: im so horny 4 u rite now

Joel: cock is all harddd

Joel: needs 2 be inside u

Joel: permishin 2 send pic???

You groan, your forehead falling into the palm of your propped arm. He has gotten much better at asking before he just sends full hog, and you’re grateful for that.

You glance around quickly, ensuring that no one is lurking in the proximal area, and you give him the go-ahead. God knows you need a little excitement while you’re dying of boredom in corporate America.

The picture arrives quickly, and you look around one more time before opening the text.

He’s actually taken the time to set up his phone at the end of his bed, clearly with a timed shutter, because he’s naked, up on his knees, with one hand gripping his massive length and the other dangling a twig of some kind of greenery above it…is that mistletoe?

Joel: u gotta come kiss it now. sry I dont make the rules

Fucking mistletoe.

You: Jesus. Did you buy mistletoe JUST for this little bit of yours?

Joel: no comment

Joel: cum over and suck it baby he needs it real bad

You don’t know what the fuck it is about this man, but he’s getting more and more dangerous for you. You’ve become much more inclined to jump when he says so. And the sight of his cock, thick and hard and ready for you has your body responding in kind. You squirm in your chair, pressing your thighs together and feeling the pressure building there.

You sigh and respond.

You: I’m off in three hours. Don’t you have to work tonight?

Joel: its my day off. let santa stuff ur tight little stocking real nice n full bby

You scoff at the cringey line, as used to his disgusting language as you are.

You: Yikes

Joel: yikes what?

You: Just everything about you.

Joel: and yet u scream around daddys cock all the same every fuckin time dont u. dont kid urself. just cum get ur present

You drop your head back with a quiet whine, the arousal between your legs only intensifying as he lays out so plainly how deeply he’s come to own you and your desires.

You don’t let yourself linger too long on your response, promising you’ll be there as soon as you’re off and requesting his address.

The mobile home park where Joel lives is…not exactly well-kept, but you try not to judge. You get momentarily lost, but eventually see Joel’s beater pickup truck pulled up next to one of the trailers, and you pull in next to it.

You: I think I’m here?

You confirm the number on the outside of the house and gingerly step out of the car.

Joel: doors open

You steel yourself as you climb up the small flight of rickety, crumbling wooden steps and pull the clattering metal door open.

“Joel?” You call out, taking in his living space for the first time and kicking off your boots.

It’s pretty small, but you suppose that’s fitting for a man living alone. A minimal kitchenette cluttered with food items and dirty dishes, a shrunken living room with a ratty couch and a recliner set in front of a television with a chipped coffee table littered with beer cans, cigarette butts, an overflowing ashtray, and a bong. A skimpy fake Christmas tree adorns the far corner of the room with cheap ornaments, some tired-looking garland, and flickering multi-colored lights, but it does have a certain charm to it.

“Back here,” You hear him call out from the end of the narrow hallway to your left. You shrug off your purse and coat and hang them on the hook by the door, next to his coat. The same coat you’d wrapped around yourself when he helped with your tires.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you lean in to take an exploratory sniff.

It still smells like him, of course. His cologne, his cigarettes, his weed. But there’s something else. The very subtle aroma of your perfume. An indulgent smile bleeds across your face. Sure, maybe he’s just lazy and hasn’t bothered to wash it. But you like that you’re there. That it’s not just him leaving bruises and ink on your skin and a deep aching between your legs every time he fucks you, but you’ve also left your mark on him.

Your reverie is interrupted by Joel’s voice once again from down the hallway.

“Come see what Santa brought you for Christmas, darlin’.”

You shake your head, but your smile is still intact.

The floorboards creak under the shag carpet as you make your way towards his voice. His door is only partially shut, so you slip yourself inside tentatively.

And he’s there, just as you’d suspected. Naked as the day he was born, lounging on top of his sheets with hands clasped behind his head. He's got one leg extended and the other bent and spread wide to showcase his hard cock slapped against the pudge of his stomach. He's still got that tacky gold cross around his neck. But the pièce de résistance is the goddamn Santa hat placed jauntily on his head.

“Knew you’d come runnin’ when I called.”

You click your tongue dismissively against the roof of your mouth and curve a hand around your hip. “Please. You had to beg to get me here. You and your Discount-Strip-Mall-Santa ass.”

Joel’s face pinches, tugging at the rim of his cap, “Ouch, baby. This here’s the finest quality Santa hat that money can buy at the dollar store.”

You snort, wetting your lips against your tongue as you banter back, “Shouldn’t you be ringing a shitty bell at the local grocery store panhandling for donations or something?”

“Nah,” Joel refutes, scrunching his nose in the most annoyingly adorable manner, “Gave me the boot after I fucked all the lady clerks in the break room.”

“Ah, naturally,” You nod, stifling a giggle.

You watch as his eyes give you his customary scan from head to toe.

“Goddamn. Look at you, all done up.”

You glance down at yourself and lift a brow at him as you jog your memory of your chosen outfit for the day. Black trousers, a button-up blouse, and a simple blazer. Nothing you’d normally bat an eye at, but you guess Joel has only ever really seen you in casual clothes. “This? Really?”

“Mmhm,” Joel hums, scraping his teeth over his lower lip as his gaze heats up. “Daddy likes.”

“Wait, I’m confused,” You joke as you crawl onto the bed, Joel tracking you with his eyes along the way until you’re straddled above him. “Are you ‘daddy’ or ‘Santa’ right now? I’m a little lost in this roleplay.”

Joel chuckles, pinching your chin in his fingers and angling you down toward him. “Come on, now, ain’t you ever heard that song? ‘I Saw Mommy Kissin’ Santa Claus’? We’re one and the same, darlin’.”

“That mean I’m supposed to kiss you now? I thought that only applied to your cock, Mr. Mistletoe,” You laugh.

Joel shrugs, leaning his head up closer to you. “I’m not picky.”

You stare at his lips and weigh the decision. You’ve never kissed him before. He’s kissed parts of you. Possibly every other part of you. But never your mouth. And since you know very intimately what he smells like, you have a good idea what he’ll taste like as well.

You sigh, meet his eyes for a beat, and then press your lips against his. They’re soft, faint remnants of chapstick clinging to the crevices, serving as a gateway to his already searching tongue. You welcome him into your mouth and he strokes at yours with an unexpected tenderness, tasting how you’d imagined. The tang of his most recent cigarette, the depth of every smoke he’s had every day prior, a hint of mintiness from either gum or toothpaste. And the weight of his tongue in your mouth…it rivals what you’ve felt of his cock when you’ve tasted it. Maybe not in size, but in sheer magnitude.

You lock your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and drop down to grind your crotch against his cock, your nice dress pants be damned as his dripping head soaks into the fabric and you continue luxuriating in the feel of his tongue filling your mouth.

Joel grunts at your movement, tugging at your hair enough to lift your lips from his. “Sweet as a fuckin’ sugarplum, baby.”

“And that’s not even where I’m sweetest,” You whisper, smiling against his lips.

“Don’t I know it,” He mutters, capturing your lips again and squeezing at your ass to kickstart your grinding again. “But how about you remind me?”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm. Come ride Santa’s face.”

“I don’t remember that part in The Night Before Christmas,” You tease, twirling the ball on the end of his cap.

“Probably stuck it in them footnotes,” He chides. “Take off your pants.”

You dismount to shuck off your trousers, and the rest of your clothes just to save time and not feel so overdressed in comparison, and he manhandles you until you’re situated directly above his waiting mouth.

“Take a seat, darlin’. Might not be Santa’s lap, but it’ll be just as comfy, I promise.”

You don’t take much convincing, to be completely honest. You very willingly subscribe to the philosophy that if a man suffocates on your pussy, well…there’s not much of a better way to go. So you sit until Joel’s facial hair scratches and prickles at your skin, and you feel the broad length of his tongue stroking up the line of your pussy.

You moan out a breathy sigh and settle yourself onto his face, your hands stabilizing on either side of the pillow cradling his head, and start to roll your hips against the graze of his tongue. He’s attentive and thorough as he works at you, alternating between lavish licks to your folds and circling your clit with the point of his tongue, making you gasp and your stomach tighten intermittently.

It is a little weird not having him spewing heinous shit into your ear as he pleasures you, but you’re certain his brain is actively crafting more bizarre turns of phrase to plague you with as he eats you out from below.

His tongue spears and you moan out as he penetrates you with the muscle, fucking into your slick entrance as you rock down onto him harder. Joel moans in return, his brows drawing together as he strives to fuck you as deep as possible with his chosen tool.

“Oh, fuck, Joel, that’s…god, that’s so fucking good,” You whine, raising a hand to squeeze at your tit and steadying yourself against his wall above his head with your other hand. Joel must get inspired, because his own hand comes to grope at your unattended breast, working it in tandem with yours.

His other hand presses upward lightly on the back of your thigh, and you lift, looking down with a shred of concern.

“Just wanna knock at that back door a bit, baby,” He reassures.

“Huh?” You ask, brain a little fuzzy with arousal. But then his nose is nudging at your pussy and his tongue is prodding at your asshole, and your voice cracks mid-moan at the blissful sensation. You’ve never had someone eat your ass before, never really cared, but holy fuck. “Oh my god, Joel.”

“Call me ‘daddy’, sweetheart. Or ‘Santa’ if it gets you off,” He offers before diving back in on the tight ring of muscle with his lips and tongue.

“Fuck. Daddy…” You whimper as you feel the tip of his tongue breach the pucker of your asshole. The whole “daddy” thing is a losing battle at this point if he’s just going to push for it each time, and you might as well lean into it. He sucks lightly at the ring of you as he thrusts it inside softly. “D-daddy, that’s…”

You swear he laughs against you as the hand on your breast slides down to your hip. And you can’t help yourself, you dip your hand below your stomach to play with your clit to build upon the pressure Joel is stoking in your belly. The hand on your waist inches inward until his thick, wide thumb is sliding into your cunt, fucking you in time with the thrust of his tongue in your ass.

“Oh, god, daddy, I’m gonna come,” You whine, increasing the pace on the sensitive bud of your pussy. Joel growls between your cheeks, sucking and fucking you until you buck up into your hand with a shout and your pussy beats against the pads of your fingers. You feel your ass squeeze around his tongue, your cunt around his thumb, and Joel grunts as he coaxes you through your orgasm. And he doesn’t stop until you physically pull yourself off his face and fingers and collapse onto his chest.

“Oh fuck,” You pant, your mouth agape and dragging against the sheen of sweat on his skin. “No one’s ever done that before.”

“Not one goddamn motherfucker has eaten your ass?” Joel asks, his voice appalled but delightfully raspy and wrecked. “That’s a fuckin’ crime against humanity. That’s a perfect fuckin’ ass.”

“You probably wouldn’t be surprised how many men don’t give a fuck about going down on a woman’s pussy, let alone their ass.”

“Fuckin’ absurd,” He mumbles, smacking his hand on your asscheek and gripping it under his fingers. “Ass deserves to get fucked every which way.”

You shake your head vehemently. “You’re not fucking my ass with that third arm between your legs,” You shut him down immediately. “I’d never shit normally again.”

Joel rolls his eyes and waves his hand dismissively. “We’ll just table that for now.”

“No,” You protest, slapping his chest, “Not tabling. It’s buried. Six feet under.”

“Alright, alright,” Joel concedes with a chuckle, gripping the back of your leg and hitching it at his waist. “Guess that snatch is still plenty tight for me, ain’t it?” He says, latching onto your lips, sucking your response off your tongue. It’s only after he’s invaded your mouth entirely that you recall where he’s just been, but the dizziness in your mind has you shoving that knowledge as far back as you possibly can.

“And what about me?” He nips at your lip with a grin. “You wanna lick Santa’s big candy cane?”

“God,” You huff out with a smile of your own, your forehead dropping onto his chest.

“Or would you rather just take a ride on his North Pole, huh?”

“You know, I almost respect your commitment to this bit.”

“What bit? Can’t a guy just get in the holiday spirit with his little hoe, hoe, hoe?”

“Ok,” You groan, pushing yourself off of him to get up from the bed.

“Woah, now, hold on,” He protests, a strong hand circling your arm and gently tugging you back. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere yet.”

“Why? I got what I wanted,” You shrug, sitting back down beside him and laying a hand on his chest. “Santa is seeming a little selfish right now. Isn’t it the season of giving?”

“Season of givin’ you this dick, maybe,” He retorts, pulling you onto his mouth again, and you groan against him. He croons at you as his lips brush yours, “Let me fill that stockin’ like I said I would. Show you what Santa’s got for you in his big sack.”

“I already know it’s coal. Can’t be anything else when I’ve been letting a strange old man hit it this often,” You say, wending a hand down south to wrap around what you can of his cock, and grinning with pride when you see his eyes pull toward the back of his head as you start to stroke him.

“Well, that’s because I know all the best puss is on the naughty list, don’t I?” He groans, thrusting into your hand. “You don’t think Santa gets his little helpers from the Nice List, do ya?”

“Guess you got me there,” You concede, leaning down to taste him again. He moans into your mouth as you jerk him, and the sound of him so desperate and horny has your pussy thirsting after him again.

“Climb back on top, little sugarplum. Let Santa deck those fuckin’ halls of yours,” He breathes over you, and you don’t even question it, you just swing your leg over his hips and settle the lips of your pussy onto the length of him. You skate your soaked core up and down the underside of his cock as it rests against his stomach and dip your thumb into his tip to simultaneously massage his frenulum with his own wetness.

“Christ,” He pants out, clamping a hand onto your hip to push and pull you up and down the outside of his cock. “I could fuckin’ come from just this, baby. But I need to fuck this nasty little slit.”

“What, no dirty holiday-themed pun for that one?” You smirk as you take hold of his length and position him at your entrance.

“Just eager to fill you with all my Christmas spirit, darlin’,” He rasps, squeezing at your hips and stroking the creases of your thighs with his thumbs.

“There it is,” You quip as you sink down onto him slowly, your mouth dropping open as he…well, he does a damn good job filling you with that colossal Christmas spirit. And as your ass sits flush with his thighs and his cock kisses your cervix, you have to admit…you’re feeling pretty goddamn jolly.

The ease of which your body welcomes Joel inside you now has you equal parts comforted and terrified. If you’d have told that naïve, reckless young woman who flashed her tits at a convenience store clerk that you’d soon be hurrying over to that man’s dilapidated single-wide in a sketchily quaint trailer park, sitting on his monster of a cock like it’s an old friend, bantering with him about his stupid fucking puns…you might’ve had to admit yourself somewhere.

But the way he fills you, makes space for himself within you, makes you feel like you’re the most velvety, divine cunt he’s ever sunk into, it sends tingles up your spine and a pulsing in your pussy.

“Shit, baby. Lookin’ like a star on top of a goddamn Christmas tree with my big trunk shoved up inside you. ‘Cept you got these sexy little ornaments,” He coos, cupping your tits again and fiddling with your nipples between his knuckles as he gropes at them.

“Play with them a bit more,” You moan, grinding on his cock and feeling it drag against your walls, “Maybe I’ll light up for you.”

Joel smiles wide, massaging your breasts with rough, dexterous hands. “Look pretty bright already to me with this cock rammed up your tight little cunt. Got you glowin’ with it, baby.”

“Shut up,” You brush off, embarrassment heating your cheeks as your hips begin to rise and fall onto him. “The glow just comes naturally. Nothing to do with you.”

“Sure, sugarplum. All you,” He placates, leaning up to suck one of your peaked buds between his teeth. You gasp as he grazes over it, pinching the other in his hand as his upward movement causes his dick to drag along your cervix.

“Oh my god,” You keen, toppling forward onto his chest and burying your face into his neck. Joel’s hands glide around to your back, holding you against him and using his new leverage to thrust into you from below.

“That too much cock for you, baby?” He sings in your ear as you clench around him. “‘S it overflowin’ your little stocking? Rippin’ at your seams?”

“‘S deep,” You manage to whine breathily. “So fucking deep, daddy.”

“I know, little sugarplum. Daddy gets real fuckin’ deep, don’t he? So good at takin’ all this cock, baby.”

You whimper into his neck, your nails scraping down his back as he fucks you open on his lap. Your clit grazes against him and you can feel your release climbing again as he continues to pound into you.

“You’re not gonna come again are you? Slutty fuckin’ thing. Can’t help but squirt all over this massive cock, huh?”

“C-can’t help—fuck, daddy, I can’t,” You cry, your teeth scraping at his neck as you grind your clit against him.

“Yeah, fuck, baby. Make a mess around daddy’s cock,” He orders as he thrusts, pulling your hips down onto his length.

Your vision starts to shimmer around the edges as he slams into the end of you, and you feel yourself splintering open, losing all grip you have on yourself. You burst apart around him with an inexcusably loud, animalistic scream, one sure to spark gossip among Joel’s neighbors for days to come.

“Fuck yeah, such a nasty fuckin’ slut. Feel you soakin’ my cock, baby,” He grunts, your juices flowing out of your pussy and down his balls as he fucks you through your orgasm.

And you can’t seem to get anything else other than “Daddy, daddy, daddy,” for a good thirty seconds. Joel seems to revel in that, encouraging it as his cock keeps splitting you open.

“Yeah, that’s right, tell me who’s makin’ you feel so fuckin’ good. Who’s big dick keeps you fallin’ apart like this. Good fuckin’ girl.”

Joel has no intention of letting you rest as he chases after his own completion, and his hips start to hammer up into you as he edges closer.

“Fuck, I’m close. You want me to come down your fuckin’ chimney, little sugarplum? Give you a real fuckin’ white Christmas?” He grunts as his fingers dig into your hips and his cock pounds against your walls.

You squeak out some semblance of an answer, unintelligible, and bear the brunt of his cock seeking its release.

“You know what I want, darlin’? Want you to jerk off my cock with those pussy lips like you were before. You do that for daddy?”

You whimper and nod into his neck, and you gasp when his length slips out of you entirely and he drops you on top of him.

“Grind on it, baby. Stroke daddy off with that drippy little fuckhole,” He instructs, helping to guide your hips back and forth.

You undulate your hips on the exterior of his cock as you stay buried in the crook of his neck, breathing heavily into his sweaty skin.

“Let daddy see you, sugarplum,” He urges, pushing you up by the shoulder until you’re upright.

You position your hands behind you and fall back onto them, giving Joel an unobscured view of your movement on him with the strength you’ve regained since your disorienting release. Your lips glide along him effortlessly with the ample supply of your own slick and come. Joel starts to jerk you forcefully back and forth on his cock with hands on your hips, like a ragdoll, until his grunts morph into deeper moans.

He finally comes with a slew of curses, his spend spitting from his cock directly onto his stomach and throughout the hair smattered on the skin there. You slide on his length until his hips buck with sensitivity and you slow to a halt, panting and staring down at the mess you’ve both made on his abdomen.

“So fuckin’ good for me, baby. Shit,” He groans out, stroking his hands down your slick thighs.

“That was…kind of incredible,” You breathe, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand.

“‘S’all you, baby. ‘S’all you,” He praises, and actually seeming to mean it this time.

You smirk slightly as you swipe a finger through his semen and pop it into your mouth, moaning around it.

“Fuck me, sweetheart. That’s…that’s a fuckin’ sight,” He sighs, dimpling your thighs with his fingers. “How about you go for another little ride on daddy’s tummy, huh?”

You quirk a lazy eyebrow at him and then drop your gaze to the mess on his stomach.

“Come on, sugarplum,” Joel rasps, nudging your thighs forward until you’re hovering over the puddle of his come, “Dip your cookie in Santa’s milk. Just like that.”

And you’re too far gone to even unpack the weird shit he just said, you just lower yourself down onto his soiled belly until you feel it seep through your folds. Your hips move almost on autopilot, dragging through the mess and honestly…feeling fucking heavenly. The slick slide of it over your core, the slip of his hair swirling in his own spend on each pass of your lips, the low rumble of Joel’s voice as he coaxes you on.

“That’s so fuckin’ pretty, baby. Seein’ my nut coatin’ that beautiful snatch. Can I take a picture of it?”

You nod, leaning back on your hands again while he retrieves his phone from his nightstand.

“Spread those messy lips open for the camera, sweet little sugarplum.”

You do as you’re told, tilting your hips up and using one hand to part your lips. You hear him snap a couple of photos and then he turns the phone around to you for your inspection. And it looks hot as hell. Your puffy cunt drenched in both of your fluids, his hairy, curved stomach very clearly soaked with the evidence of your activities.

“Send that to me.”

He smirks up at you and you watch his fingers move on his phone until you hear a buzzing in the heap of clothing on his floor. You lean down and put your weight on your elbows on either side of his head, lips ghosting over his mouth.

“Thank you, Santa,” You whisper, sealing your lips together.

He moans into your mouth as your tongue strokes along his. You suddenly feel something plopping onto your head and your eyes fly open, hands shooting to the top of it. Joel’s grin is incandescent as you realize he’s rehomed his Santa hat.

“Gross,” You groan, flicking at the fuzzy white ball at the end of it. “It’s all sweaty.”

“So that’s where we’re drawin’ the line now?” He jokes, stroking his thumb down your chin. “Looks better on you.”

“I dunno,” You impart nonchalantly, avoiding his gaze. “Didn’t look so bad on you.”

“I’ll be damned. You think I’m handsome, sugarplum?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Y’did. I heard it loud and clear.”

“Hearing things, old man,” You dismiss, dropping one more kiss to his lips and unstraddling his lap, your pussy making an entirely unsexy suctioning noise as you extract from the stickiness between you.

“That was fuckin’ hot,” Joel remarks, rolling onto his side and hauling you back towards the bed by the back of your thigh. You yelp quietly as you stumble forward on the carpet and feel Joel mouthing at your messy cunt.

“Ok, Jesus. Down, boy,” You giggle, shoving Joel’s head from between your legs. Joel’s smile doesn’t budge as his mouth shines with your shared spend.

“Sorry, baby. Just too fuckin’ tasty. Irresistible.”

“You’re ridiculous,” You mumble. “Where’s your fucking bathroom?”

“Door on the left,” He answers smugly, settling back in against his pillow with his hands clasped behind him, just as you’d found him, only sans his festive hat.

You roll your eyes, maybe with a smidge of affection, and head off to clean up.

“Mmm. Hate to see you go—”

“Don’t finish that,” You cut him off, not even looking over your shoulder as you go.

“Give her one Santa hat and suddenly she thinks she’s got allll the power,” He calls out after you as you slip into the bathroom, and you can’t wipe the stupid fucking grin off your face.

When you’ve relieved yourself and tidied up a bit, you re-enter his room with a clean washcloth.

“Don’t get any funny ideas,” You raise a brow at him as you throw your leg over his thighs again and begin softly wiping at his belly.

“Ain’t nothin’ funny about this, baby. Just a nice view,” He says, unbothered against his pillows. “I could get used to this.”

“Don’t,” You say as sternly as you can, but you can’t rein in your smile entirely as you do.

“I won’t,” He pauses, eyes flicking to your hat, “Mrs. Claus,” He ends with a smirk.

“Okay, we’re not…” You head him off, plucking the hat from your head and chucking it at his chest as he laughs and you try not to smile. “Keep that shit to yourself, please.”

“Whatever you say, sugarplum.”

You wipe at his stomach as the conversation settles, but not for long.

“Thanks for takin’ pity on me this joyous holiday season. Fuckin’ an old man and all.”

You glance up at him long enough to see the sly little upturn of his lips, his heavy, sleepy eyelids, and shake your head a bit as you focus back on your current task.

“You’re not so old,” You utter quietly, but you’re sure he hears it. “As far as I know, anyway. And you can still get it up. That’s what I care about.”

“Yeah? That all?”

You jot your eyes up to his face again, then quickly back to his stomach. “Yup.”

You see him stick out a lip and nod out of the corner of your eye, securing his hat back on his head. “Fair enough.”

You sit back on his thighs and toss the dirty rag into his overflowing hamper. “Well, thanks for my gift, Santa. I’ll forgive you for not wrapping it, I guess.”

Joel scoffs, squeezing at the side of your thigh. “You ain’t ask me to wrap a goddamn thing since the first time. Haven’t heard you complainin’ ‘bout it.”

“Guess not,” You muse, your fingers subconsciously filtering through your folds for a moment. “Anyway, I should go,” You mutter as you come back to yourself.

“Or you could stay,” He poses, gliding his thumb over your thigh. “Could play again later. I got all night.”

“I don’t think so,” You mumble, maneuvering back onto the floor and pulling your clothes on.

“Hey,” He calls softly, and you look up at him as you do up the fastenings on your trousers. He’s got a crease between his brows. “This is just fun. You and me. That’s all it’s gotta be, yeah?”

Your fingers stumble as they button up your blouse. “And that’s all it’s gonna be. Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

You smooth out your collar and take a deep breath. “Yeah. So. Thanks for the fuck. It was good. Really good.”

His eyes roam over you and settle on your face. “Anytime, sugarplum.”

You nod once, resolutely, and head out the door. Next

YALL WE HAVE FANART!! Please check out this adorable depiction of Sleazy Santa Joel 😭😭

Taglist Update: I have decided to decommission my taglist in favor of an updates blog! Please follow @atticrissfinchupdates and opt in for notifications to get notified when I post a new fic!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #sleazy!joel miller #tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #katy wroted fic #mmitb

2K notes · View notes

whorekneecentral · 7 months

Text

Sticky Fingers

Sebastian Vettel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: dad!seb, seb referring to himself as daddy, cheesy flirting, oral (m!receiving), the use of daddy in a sexual context, penetrative sex (p in v), breeding kink, hint to pregnancy kink if you squint, creampie, a touch of cum play, finger sucking, mommy kink but in a joking way.

Word Count: 2,112

Author's Note: would it really be me if I didn't start it off with my favourite dilf on the planet?? happy holidays to everyone who celebrates in whatever way you do and to those of you who don't, I hope you have a wonderful winter season!!

merry smutmas series

Your husband spends his first Christmas at home since his retirement and he went a little.. a lot over board.

It had been a long year; Sebastian had been driving you mad as much as it was nice to have him home. A full year of retirement and Seb was making sure this holiday season was the best one yet.

Last year, after he retired, you had practically already gotten everything together for the holidays. Sebastian helped decorate and do activities with your daughter but this year, he was hands on from day one. He insisted you guys get a real tree as well as decorate the whole house from top to bottom. You couldn't count how many times he had you running to the store to pick up something for him and his newest holiday project.

Your daughter was upstairs in her bed, fast asleep with her messy blonde curls all scattered over the pillow when you checked on her. Sebastian had put her to bed while you had gone to take a shower.

Usually, you'd find him in bed by now or in the living room, finally working on the insanely long list of tv shows Charles had recommended to him over the years.

Tonight was different, the house was quiet and you couldn't seem to spot your husband anywhere as you made your way through the house.

A light peeked out from around the corner, the door to the basement slightly ajar and you pulled it open, slowly making your way downstairs.

You can see Sebastian from behind, the man freezes when he hears the creaking of the stairs. "It's just me," you announced, the man visibly relaxed, turning to smile at you.

"What are you doing down here?" You asked, finally making it down the stairs. "So secretive, are you jerking off?" You jokingly asked, Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"Don't need to do that when I have you," he raises his eyebrows and it was your turn to roll your eyes.

"Whatever Seb," you laughed, "seriously, what are you doing down here?"

"Trying to wrap this," Sebastian steps to the side, revealing the massive box that was behind him. On the front was a photo of the doll house your daughter wanted.. the ridiculously expensive dollhouse that is. It's not that you two didn't get your daughter what she wanted but she had to earn it. Just because her father is who he is and the fact that he has money, doesn't mean she should get whatever she wants.

You raise her as a normal kid, not some spoiled brat who gets whatever they want.

You huffed, arms folded over your chest as you looked at your husband. "Sebastian, you didn't."

He glances between you and the dollhouse. "What?"

"Do you know how expensive that is?"

"Yeah duh, I bought it babe." He says as if he was stating the obvious, which he was.

He takes a step towards you, grabbing your arms to unfold them, "listen, I know you don't want me to just buy her whatever she wants but it's Christmas and she did really well on her first term report card, remember ?" Sebastian smiles at you, trying to justify his purchase.

You sigh, nodding. You always gave in, both he and his daughter knew as much.

You reach up, holding his face. "You're the best daddy a girl could ask for."

From the moment the words left your mouth, you could see the gears turning in his head. Sebastian's hands grab your ass, squeezing it when he leans in to give you a kiss. "I know I am," he whispers against your lips and you know he did not mean it in the same way you had said it.

Laughing, you lean back in your husband's arms. "Only you can make that dirty."

The man swings you in the direction of your couch, dropping you down on it before getting on top of you. "I'll show you dirty," he says, kissing you once again.

Your legs wrapped around your husband, holding him against you. Seb's lips are all over you, hands slipping between the two of you, pulling on the hem of his t-shirt until he stops to take it off.

"Don't look at me like that," he teases, pushing your shirt up to kiss down your stomach. "Like what?" You breathe, head tipped back into the cushions.

"Like you want to fuck me."

"I'd give you another baby right now, Sebastian."

The man freezes, looking up at you. There's a wicked smile on his face. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you nod, propping yourself up on your elbows to look down at him. Sebastian moves to between your legs, settling there for a minute as he presses kisses along your bare skin, following the trail from your hip, down your thighs to between them.

Your hand tangles in his blonde curls, giving it a tug and pulling him off of you before he can get to what he really wants. The man's brows furrow, looking at you. "Sweetheart," he huffs, fingers dragging along the bare skin of your thighs.

You give him a shove back with your foot, sitting up. Sebastian watches as you move him to sit and you move from the couch to the floor. Seb reaches for the pillow, dropping in front of you so you'd have some sort of cushioning; he knows even though this was your idea, you'd blame him for sore knees tomorrow.

"You're sure?" He asks, watching as your manicured nails tugs on the strings on his sweats. "Absolutely," you say, your eyes fixed on him as your hands rub up his thighs.

Seb watches as you lick your hand, his head tips back and a soft moan slips out when you wrap your hand around him, moving it up and down slowly.

His eyes don't move from you, watching your every move. His lips parted slightly, as if he was going to say something but he can't bring himself to. You lean forward, a hand wrapped around the base of his cock, the other resting on his thigh. Sebastian groans, teeth sinking into his bottom lip when you wrap your lips around him.

"God-" he breathed, his arm hung over the armrest and his head tipped back into the couch.

His eyes flutter shut when you hollow your cheeks, bobbing your head up and down. You glance up at your husband; eyes shut, his hand reaching down to tangle in your hair - pulling it into a makeshift ponytail.

You move yourself up a bit, lips still around the tip and your hand quickly replaces where your mouth was. Sebastian finally opens his eyes, looking down at you again just as your tongue swirls around the tip.

His hips involuntarily buck upwards, forcing you down on him a little bit more. "Oh fuc- baby, do that- yeah." He's out of breath when he whispers the words.

That was a reaction only you could get out of him.

It was killing him but he forces himself to pull you up off of him, your hand wraps around his cock, moving it slowly. "What?" You asked, your tongue running across your bottom lip - the sight alone makes his cock twitch in your hand; you smile at the reaction.

"I was gonna cum."

"So? I'm not complaining." You tell him, leaning forward to rest your cheek on his thigh. Sebastian reaches down, his knuckles brushing over your cheek - red and flushed.

You looked so beautiful like this.

Sebastian smiles, "I know but.. what if I wanted to try for one more?"

"One more?" You asked, brows furrowed as you looked up at the man. It takes you a moment, your husband's glance was suggestive, as if you were meant to remember something - "Oh!" You giggled, sitting up straight now. "I mean.. yeah."

"So.." he grabs your arm, carefully pulling you up. "C'mere."

Climbing onto your husband's lap, you straddle him and your hand rests on his shoulder to balance yourself. Seb reaches between the two of you, his wrist brushing against your bare cunt when he goes to line himself up with you.

The slightest touch causes you to lean into him; watching him react to you sucking him off was enough to get you worked up.

"All for me?" He looks at you, kissing along your throat.

You hum, teasing him. "Not like I can say it's for your teammate anymore."

Sebastian smiles, his free hand on your hip as you sink down onto him. Your lips parted, his name slipped from between them. As much as he loved to hear you, he didn't want to wake up the sleeping child upstairs - he kissed you, muffling the sweet sounds coming from you.

You liked to be in control up to a certain point, Seb's hands rested on your hips as you bounced on his lap, setting the pace.

After a moment, Seb's hands begin to wander; this man could never settle, not even during sex. His hands move from your hips to the curve of your spine to the back of your neck, holding a firm grip there. You couldn't exactly move, not that you wanted too, but Sebastian forces you down, gently as always, to kiss you. You bite his bottom lip, giving it a gentle pull when he feels you clench around his cock.

"You're - fuck." he moans, making you giggle.

Your hand rests on his jaw, fingers tapping his stubble covered cheek. "I'm what, daddy?"

"You're evil," he mumbles, his hand on your lower back before he flips the two of you. You end up under him, legs wrapped around his hips.

A hand moves to behind his shoulder, your perfectly red nails dig into his pale skin, the marks you left matched the colour of your nails; very festive, you thought to yourself.

Seb's face is buried into the crook of your neck, kissing down to that one spot he knows drives you crazy. "Seb-" you cut yourself off with a moan when you feel his fingers on your clit.

"What was that?" He taunts, watching as your eyes close, back arched, his chest pressed to yours. His lips travel down to your chest, kissing over your tits and as far as he could go. Your nails dig into him once more, Seb feels you clench around him.

"Seb- I'm gonna, fuck-" you mumble and he hums in response, kissing along your jaw.

"Go on, I'm right here baby. C'mon, be good for me." He whispers, he grabs your hand, pulling it to rest on your lower stomach. "Can you feel that, hm? You'd look so pretty with a baby in you - fuck, drove me crazy last time."

You mumble something he doesn't quite catch but from the look on your face, you were going along with everything.

"Please Seb," your lips are on his, begging him for any and everything."

"Please what, sweetheart?" His eyes find yours, "what do you want? You want me to cum in you?"

"Let me make you a daddy again, Seb."

The man groans, your legs tightening around him. "Fuck, okay," he breathes, cheat heaving when you clench around him once more, the tighten knot in your lower stomach comes undone. You find yourself calling his name; the sound and sight of you was something Sebastian never wanted to forget. He finds himself following shortly after you, dropping down on top of you.

Seb moves off of you, pulling out in the process. A soft whimper slipping past your lips at the loss of fullness. He tsks, smiling to himself. His finger drags along your pussy, he watches how you react to his touch, pushing his finger into you to fuck what's slipping back into you.

Before you realize, his hands moved from between your legs to your lips. "Open," he tells you and you do, the man putting his finger between your lips, letting you suck it clean.

He smiles, watching in approval before you let his finger go with a pop. "Good girl," he whispers, holding your jaw when he kisses you.

Seb shifts the two of you, letting you cuddle into his side. His hand rubs along your side, your leg stretched out over his lap.

"You okay?"

"Perfect," you smile, your hand on his chest.

"Well, when we do get up-" he starts but you cut him off, already knowing where he's going. "I'll help you wrap it." You tell him, making him laugh.

"You're the best mommy a girl could ask for," he says and you make a face, laughing. "Doesn't work that way babe."

"Ew, no - I didn't mean like that, you freak."

"Oh shut up," you shook your head, reaching up to kiss your husband.

taglist: @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls@wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @forza55 @norrisleclercf1 @allalngthewtchtower @therealcap @burningcupcakefire @stargirl36 @brettlorenzi3 @guiseppetsunoda @magnummagnussen @flippingmyshit @savrose129 @lovelytsunoda @irda12-blog @dhhdhsiavdhaj @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @f1lovers22 @toomuchdelusion @eviethetheatrefreak @faye2029 @lillians-world-is-f1 @chalando1604 @lenaxwbr @im-obsessed @potashiuhm @lcxlerc16 @enjoythebutterflies3 @lillyfootballsworld @micksmidnights @mashtonbunny @chrlsleclerc @logischeroktopus

#sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel smut #sebastian vettel fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 smut #merry smutmas xoxo

2K notes · View notes

kwanisms · 7 months

Text

More Than Just Friends — b.chris

» stray kids masterlist «

➮ werewolf!Chris × f!Reader wc: 7.4k summary: Chris is a werewolf. His best friend is well aware of this. But what she doesn’t know is that during his heat, he often pictures pinning her down and breeding her. When she comes back home the day before his cycle is due to start, Chris finds it hard to not give into his urges when he smells she’s ovulating. genres/themes/au: fluff, smut; supernatural and lycanthropic themes, f2l (gasp and they were roommates); non idol au, werewolf au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, alcohol consumption, Chris struggles with his horny thoughts and controlling his urges but can you blame the poor guy? Being in heat probably sucks when you aren’t getting laid 💀, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! special taglist: @yoonguurt , @anyamaris , @wooyoungqueen , @kpop-stories-21 , @xsweetelegantdiasterx , @kookthief , @stardragongalaxy , @millennial-fangirl , @blankdyean , @imwithurmother , @bangchans-angel , @oreoqueen , @yjeonginlvr , @zdgx1 , @shuxsoo , @s00buwu , @queenmea604 , @pochaccomin , @katsukis1wife , @linos-catnip , @wh0r3mir4 Join the taglist! »» Closes tomorrow (30th) at 23:00 CST Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL NOT BE ADDED.

a/n: this was written partially for myself but also for my bestie, Sky. So you're welcome, bestie ily. We're nearing the end of this series so I'll take this time to announce that once I wrap up with Kinktober, the Tales from Camp Holiday Special will start back up with Jun and Vernon's part. If you’d like to sign up for the taglist, you can do so here. If you haven't read the first two installments, you can find those here. And if you have no idea what I'm talking about and read for SVT, you can read the OG Tales from Camp here! Thank you so much for reading and if you liked it, please consider supporting me on kofi (link on my pinned post) and reblogging or commenting! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), unprotected sex (he’s a werewolf and he’s been dreaming about breeding his best friend. You don’t do that tho. You use protection), oral (both receiving), brat taming (f receiving), breeding, heat cycles, daddy kink, dom!Chris, sub!Reader, use of pet names (baby, babygirl, princess, etc), Chris is a very whipped man and loves Y/N very much. If I've missed anything, please let me know!

dialogue prompt: ❛ We’re not just friends and you fucking know it ❜

══════════════════════════════════════════��════════════

Chris is normally a very patient man. He never rushes things, always preferring to take his time in everything he does. He’s always been able to keep his cool, even when things get… a little hairy. As a werewolf, he’s gotten pretty good at controlling his urges as well.

Chris can recall the exact moment everything changed. He can trace his werewolf lineage back to the Joseon period. He is descended from werewolves. There was no camping trip or fateful night where he was stalked and bitten or mauled by some wolf-man beast.

He was born with his condition, the bloodline being passed down from father to son. The women in the family carried the gene but it was only dominant in males. Only males experienced the Change. Chris was around 11 or 12 when it first happened. He was sitting with some friends, playing video games in the basement when it happened.

He remembered the fever, the sweating, his vision blurring, and then everything went black. When he came to, it was the next morning and he was lying in bed, a cool towel on his forehead and the sun creeping into the room via his window. His mother, who had come to check on him and found him awake, called his father in and the both of them sat down and explained to Chris what was going on.

He was a werewolf. Of course, Chris didn’t understand but as the days turned into weeks, he started to notice the Change even more. His first full moon was approaching and he needed to prepare himself. He started to crave raw meat which his mother was able to provide in the form of rare steak. Chris had never eaten his steaks rare before that point.

Most of the changes were subtle and manageable. The big one was unavoidable. Chris’ first transformation was excruciating but he somehow managed to make it through to the morning and his father told him he had a month to recuperate before it happened again. Chris had hoped that was the end of the surprises but as he got closer to his second full moon, the heat started.

His father had mentioned it but the effects still caught him off guard. He was still only in the beginning stages of puberty so Chris still had a lot to learn about his own anatomy as well as his wolf side. His father assured him everything he was feeling was normal. Every male in the family had gone through this at some point in their lives.

As Chris got older, he was able to manage the changes but the one he still couldn’t seem to overcome other than his transformations was the heat. The intense arousal that seemed to take over all other senses. From sunup to sundown the entire week before his transformations. The urge to fuck anything with a pulse that smelled even remotely attractive.

It was agonizing.

It was worse when he started dating. Once a month, he had to close himself off from his girlfriend for a week. Most of his relationships ended because his partner couldn’t understand and how was he supposed to explain it? How could he explain that he was a werewolf? They’d laugh at him and call him crazy. No one other than his family would understand.

Or so he thought.

Chris was in college when he met you his sophomore year in his economics class. You’d come to class only a moment before the bell rang and despite plenty of seats to choose from, you picked the one next to him. Chris had tried to focus on the lecture but your perfume was enticing. He was close to his heat that day and having such a warm body that smelled as alluring as you did was a horrible combination for him.

He had missed a week of classes after that, emailing his professor who was all too aware of Chris’ nature and understood. Chris’ heat was more intense than any he’d experienced before and he couldn’t keep images of you, the sweet girl who sat next to him once, out of his mind. He hated himself for fantasizing about you, when he didn’t even know your name.

When he returned to class, you were there, in the same spot you’d been before. Chris took his seat in a different spot in an effort to avoid having to look at you for the week’s worth of shame he felt. After the lecture, Chris had hurried out of class to make way to the fitness center for his break between classes until he felt a gentle hand on his arm.

Turning around, he was met with the sight of your smiling face and enchanting scent. ‘Fuck.’

You explained how you noticed he was gone and took notes for him just in case he was sick and then proceeded to hand over a folder full of detailed notes from lectures for the entire week he missed. To say he was shocked was an understatement. Here was a girl who didn’t know his name and she managed to take not only her own notes and complete her own assignments but she took time out of each day to copy her own notes to give to him.

Who did that? Chris was a flabbergasted mess, blushing profusely as he tried to decline your more than generous offer but you didn’t take no for an answer. It was the start of something Chris would come to cherish more than anything else. An unlikely friendship.

Sophomore year at university ended and summer break came. Chris went home to visit his family but kept in touch with you. He wasn’t sure if things would remain the same come junior year but he was pleasantly surprised to walk into his first class of the semester to find you already seated towards the back and pulling out your laptop.

That year was full of study dates at the student cafe, attending football games and cheering for the other team since your university’s team sucked. The holidays brought with it snow and Chris decided to invite you to spend Christmas with his family after he learned yours was going overseas until after the New Year. The drive to Chris’ family home proved difficult as it was only a few days before his heat.

That was the year the truth came out. Chris finally told you everything. He was ashamed but you surprised him even more by accepting him and reminding him that there are some things he can’t control. Chris knew right then that you were going to be a constant in his life. He leaned more on you after that, feeling grateful for the little things you did for him.

Your bond and friendship was made stronger for it.

After graduating, Chris landed a job in the city and was excited when you said you’d be joining him. You both went apartment hunting, agreeing that sharing an apartment was more cost effective than getting two separate places. You both found the perfect one close to both your jobs and quickly settled into a routine. The real challenge came when Chris’ first heat rolled around.

He had a much harder time controlling his urges when you were constantly around and so for the first year, you would spend a week in a hotel but soon that proved to be more than your budget would allow. You were lucky to meet someone at work, a female coworker who understood more than anyone else since her own brother was also a werewolf and she had the room to let you stay for a week.

This had been your routine for the last three years.

“You got everything?” Chris called as you carried your bags out of your room and into the living room where he was sitting on the couch, playing a racing game, his headset resting around his neck. “Yeah,” you replied breathlessly. Chris paused the game and tilted his head back to look at you standing behind him. “You sure?” he asked.

It wasn’t unlike you to forget things and Chris knew this. There were more than a handful of times you’d left for work only to return a few minutes later because you forgot something. It was an endearing trait you had and Chris liked to tease you about it.

“Yes, dad,” you jokingly said, tousling his dark curls. The nickname was meant to be mocking and joking but it always made something stir in his stomach when you said it. Chris would never admit it, even if you were his best friend, but the thought of you calling him daddy lingered in his mind, even long after his heat had passed.

Likewise, you’d never admit it to him but you often thought about adding the extra syllable to the name, if only to see his reaction. Chris wasn’t aware of it but you knew all about his… inclination towards the title. He’d let it slip one night while you were drinking at home, celebrating a promotion with a couple bottles of wine.

[flashback]

“It’s not that bad!” you said in protest as Chris laughed harder, cheeks red from both the action and from the alcohol. “Honestly?” he asked, his laughter subsiding for only a moment. You nodded, your own cheeks warm. “Then it’s not really a degradation kink, is it?” Chris asked.

“It is! But it also feeds into my praise kink,” you said, your filter long gone as you raised your half empty bottle of wine to your lips. It was your second one and both you and Chris had agreed to forego the glasses, opting to drink straight from the bottles.

Chris’ laughter started up again. “Praise kink? Like ‘ oh wow, good job sucking dick?’” he asked through laughs. You narrowed your eyes. “No,” you retorted. “It’s more like ‘you’re doing so well,’ or ‘you take me so well,’” you explained. Chris cocked his head. “So if I were to call you a ‘good little slut’ that would do it for you?”

His question was meant to be curious but you couldn’t control the way your walls clenched around nothing. ‘Shit,’ you thought to yourself as you felt your core heat up, knowing it wasn’t entirely the alcohol’s fault.

There was no denying that your best friend was hot. He’d been hitting the gym since before you met and had probably one of the best bodies you’d ever seen. He was insanely attractive with his strong biceps, muscular thighs and well formed ass. The term cake didn’t even begin to cover it with Chris.

Not to mention those dark curls and dimples that had you weak the moment you met him all those years ago in college. You’d been smitten with him long before even learning his name. And as time went on, you just fell deeper and deeper in love with your best friend.

You couldn’t help it. He was everything you wanted in a man. He ticked every box on your list. He was attractive, funny, smart, kind, and he made you feel safe and secure. He gave the best hugs and he was the clingiest person you’d ever met but you wouldn’t change a single thing about him. Not even the werewolf side of him and the heat that kicked you out once a week.

“Yeah,” you said finally, grabbing the bottle of wine from him and taking a swig. Chris chuckled, shaking his head. “Ah, it’s not that bad,” he replied. “I like being called daddy so, who’s the real weirdo here?”

You froze mid sip, swallowing the wine thickly before your eyes settled on Chris who glanced back at you. “Daddy? Really?” you asked softly. He nodded as he reached for the bottle which you handed to him without a second thought. “Yeah. Weird, right?” he asked before taking a sip.

You leaned in, one hand resting on the back of the couch as you looked up into his face.

“Oh not at all,” you started as he brought the bottle down, resting it on his thigh. “Daddy.”

Chris’ eyes snapped up to meet yours, darkening slightly when he noticed the smirk on your face. The two of you stared at one another before he shook his head. “Don’t play with me,” he said, his voice thick.

“You’re playing with fire.”

[present day]

The topic changed quickly after that and the next morning you woke with a headache and the knowledge that your best friend had a daddy kink. He of course didn’t remember a thing. Not the sultry stare off or how you almost made the mistake of kissing him that night.

“When are you leaving?” Chris asked, pulling you from your thoughts of the past. He’d taken your hand from his hair and was inspecting your palm, gently running the tips of his fingers over your skin. Something that normally calmed you down but with the memory fresh in your mind, it was having another effect on you entirely.

“Kara should be here soon,” you replied, gently pulling your hand from his grip and picking up your bags to move them towards the door. Chris said nothing, instead looking at the tv.

He’d never admit it but he had half a mind to ask you not to go. To instead ask you to stay but he knew if you stayed, he’d be unable to control his urges.

For the last year, he’d been having very intense fantasies about pinning you against the nearest surface and fucking you. Even worse, he had vivid fantasies of breeding you. About fucking you raw, knotting your warm cunt, and filling it with his hot cum.

The thought of his cock buried deep inside your walls as he emptied his balls and then his cock swelling so none of it could escape occupied his mind most of the time when his heat approached. The wolf in him wanted nothing more than to breed you, turn you into his little cum dumpster and pump you full of his cum, hoping it would take and get you pregnant.

Chris knew it was his animalistic instincts, wanting to mate and continue the bloodline. He’d been able to control these urges for the most part. He still masturbated to the thought of breeding you, hiding his shame for a few days. He knew it was wrong to fantasize about you like that but he also knew he couldn’t control what the wolf thought but he could control what he did physically.

“Now you’re sure you have everything?” he asked. You nodded, looking down at your bags. “I’m sure,” you replied. A buzzing interrupted you and you gave your roommate a sheepish smile, moving to answer the intercom. “Come on up,” you said, pressing the button when Kara identified herself.

Chris got up and walked over to the door. It only took a couple minutes for Kara to reach the door, knocking when she did. You opened it and smiled at her, having just finished putting your shoes on. “Hey,” you greeted your coworker who smiled back.

“All ready?” Kara asked. Chris watched as you nodded and started to lift your bags. Kara taking a couple of them. “I’ll see you in about a week,” you said, turning to Chris who stepped down into the entry, hands in his pockets.

“There’s leftovers in the fridge, just reheat them. Do not cook,” you instructed and Chris rolled his eyes. “You act like I can’t cook,” he mused and you raised your brows. “Have you eaten anything you’ve ever made?” you asked, jokingly. Chris nudged you playfully.

“Make sure to drink water and please do not destroy anything,” you said, holding your hands together in a silent prayer. Chris rolled his eyes, pulling his hands from his pockets and pulled you into a hug, burying his face in your shoulder. “I’ll be fine,” he muttered.

Chris inhaled slowly. He loved the scent of your perfume. It was a scent he’d grown very fond of. His arms tightened around you. He didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want you to leave. He wanted you to stay but you both knew if you did, he might not be able to control himself.

“See you in a week,” you said softly, giving him a small squeeze. Chris reluctantly let go of you, forcing a smile when you pulled back to look at him. “Take care of her,” he said to Kara who sent him a sympathetic smile. “Of course,” she answered. “You take care of yourself too,” she added.

You grabbed the last bag, slinging it over your shoulder and looked back at Chris one last time, giving him an apologetic smile. He waved as you crossed the threshold into the hall and just like that you were gone for a week.

Another week of an empty apartment. Another week of hell without you.

Chris returned to his game, his heart not really in it as he half-assed his way through the campaign before logging off and shutting the tv down. He went to his room to try and get some work done but found that he couldn’t focus.

He was getting restless and he knew one of two things that could help.

He changed into some of his workout gear, grabbing his headphones, phone, and water bottle, and exited the apartment to head to the building’s gym. He usually could push through an hour workout and it usually managed to take the edge off.

He followed his usual routine, stretching, some light cardio followed by weights and then a walk to cool down. As he was on his walk, the door to the gym opened and another tenant came in. Chris had seen her before. She lived on the fourteenth floor. She had recently changed her hair from blonde to a medium brown with highlights. She had her hair pulled up into a ponytail and was dressed in a black sports bra and black leggings.

She looked up to where Chris was, smiling shyly at him as she made her way over to one of the bicycle machines. Chris returned the smile and looked down at the machine controls. He had about ten minutes left on his walk and then he could hit the showers and head back to his apartment and it would be dinner time.

He tried not to notice the scent of the other tenant’s perfume or the way he could smell sweat starting to permeate the air. He closed his eyes, keeping his hands on the rails as he walked, willing time to move faster. ‘Eight minutes,’ he told himself, peeking at the timer.

He looked up and made eye contact with the woman who had gotten off the bicycle to fill her bottle. She was looking directly at him and Chris couldn’t control the way his body reacted. Heat radiated throughout his body, settling in the pit of his stomach, his dick twitching in his pants.

‘Come on,’ he scolded himself. ‘She’s looking at you. It’s not like she’s flirting. Calm the fuck down.’

Chris looked back up, finding she was still staring at him. ‘Shit.’ He glanced at the timer and saw he had five minutes left. ‘Fuck this. I’m done anyway,’ he told himself as he pushed the stop button. He couldn’t risk popping a boner in the gym simply because a woman looked at him.

He’d shower back at the apartment.

He sprayed a paper towel and quickly wiped down the machine before grabbing his things and heading for the door. He pushed open the door and exited quickly, heading to the elevator and pressing the call button. He waited, shifting from one foot to the other.

He could hear footsteps, and silently prayed for the elevator to arrive sooner. He let out a breath he forgot he was holding as the doors dinged and opened. He stepped into the small room, waving his card over the reader and pressing the button for his floor.

As the doors started to close, a hand shot out to stop them and Chris internally cursed as the woman stepped onto the elevator. He forced a smile, moving into the corner as she waved her card, pressing the button for the fourteenth floor.

The door slowly slid shut, closing them both in and Chris stared at the counter above the doors, ignoring the woman completely. Her floor would come before his. He just had to be patient.

“Hey,” a soft voice said and Chris knew she was speaking to him. He turned his head to find her looking at him. “Hi,” he replied. “I’ve seen you around a few times,” she said, a smile spreading across her face. Chris nodded. “I’ve lived here for a few years,” he admitted.

‘Come on, come on,’ he thought impatiently as the counter continued to rise. “I’m new to the area,” she said suddenly. “Are you from around here?” she asked. Chris nodded wordlessly, keeping his gaze on the numbers over the elevator doors.

“Maybe you could show me around some time,” she offered, moving closer. ‘Fuck,’ he cursed mentally. She was close enough that he could smell the arousal wafting off her. ‘No, no, no,’ he told himself. The moment her hand touched his arm, Chris jumped just as the doors opened on the thirteenth floor.

‘Fuck this’ he thought and pushed past as someone else stepped onto the elevator and he walked down the hall, heading for the stairwell. He’d rather walk than be trapped in a steel box with a horny woman this close to his heat.

Once he finally reached his floor, he made sure the floor was deserted as he headed for the door, letting himself in. He could breathe easily as he kicked his shoes off and headed past the kitchen, dropping his water bottle on the counter as he headed for his room.

He stripped and got into the shower, turning the water on, letting the stream heat up and wash his body. Once he was done showering, he got out, dressed and sat down at his computer, putting his headset on and turning on some music and getting a headstart on some work.

When his stomach growled, he cursed, pulling his headphones off and got up, exiting his room and making his way into the kitchen. He grabbed one of the glass containers from the fridge and pulled it out to inspect it. ‘Lasagna,’ he noted with a smile as he took the lid off and scooped the contents out onto a plate to heat it up.

Once the food was hot, he carefully pulled the plate out and took a seat at the kitchen counter, grabbing a fork as he did and started to eat. He was eternally grateful for you, making food for him when you left for a week. It wasn’t that he couldn’t cook, he could. He just preferred it when you did.

As he chewed, he wondered what you were up to with Kara. Were you eating dinner as well?

“I can’t believe he still thinks you’re a lesbian,” Kara said, giggling as you took a sip of your wine. “I’ve told him numerous times I’m not,” you replied. “I don’t understand why he still thinks that.”

Kara shook her head. “Who knows,” she replied, glancing down at her empty glass. “Oh, time for a refill!”

She got up, waiting for you to down the rest of your wine and took your empty glass to the kitchen to refill them both. The two of you had ordered pizza, neither one of you wanted to cook, especially after you had cooked an entire week's worth of meals for Chris.

“What do you think Chris is up to?” Kara asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Oh, he’s probably playing video games,” you replied as Kara poured your favorite wine into your glass and placed the bottle back in the fridge. She walked back over with both glasses, handing yours over as she took a seat.

“So,” she started, taking a sip of her wine. “Let me see this presentation,” she added and you set your glass down, rushing over to your laptop bag and pulling it out, moving back to sit on the couch, setting your laptop on the coffee table.

Kara continued sipping on her wine as you opened your laptop and logged on. You signed into and pulled up the presentation powerpoint you’d been working on all week for Monday’s meeting. It wasn’t anything fancy but you were pretty proud of it.

Kara looked over it, complimenting your skills and work, making small comments on certain parts. “I really like this,” she said, pointing at one of the slides. “You really made a good point here.” You felt pride swell in your chest until your laptop dinged, a small notification indicating your battery was low.

“I swear, the battery on this thing dies so fast,” you groaned as you got up and headed over to your bag to grab the charger. You unzipped the pocket only to find your charger wasn’t there. “What the…” you trailed off, starting to check all the pockets of your laptop bag but no charger in sight.

“What’s wrong?” Kara asked. “I can’t find my charger,” you replied. “Did you bring it?” Kara asked, getting up from her seat and walking over. “I thought I did,” you replied, feeling annoyed and angry with yourself for forgetting when Chris had asked you multiple times if you had everything.

“You can use mine,” Kara said but you shook your head. “You have a Macbook,” you reminded her. “This is an HP.” Kara swore under her breath. “I gotta go back home,” you said softly. Kara looked up at you. “Are you sure?” she asked. You nodded.

“I need that charger,” you answered. “Especially if I’m gonna be here for a week.” Kara nodded and got up. “I’ll drive you,” she said and you shook your head. “You’ve had like a whole bottle,” you reminded her. “I’ve only had a glass. I’ll drive. You stay here. I’m just gonna run back and get it and then I’ll be back.” Kara nodded as she grabbed her keys and handed them to you.

“Be careful,” she said as you grabbed your purse, making sure you had your phone. You headed to the door, slipping your shoes and coat on. “I’ll be back in a bit,” you called and exited her apartment, making your way to the elevator and pushing the button.

You fished your phone out of your purse, opened Chris’ message thread and sent him a text.

You: i did what i said i wouldn’t. I forgot my laptop charger 💀

You: i’m on my way back to get it.

You: i’ll be quick. Just in and out

Placing your phone back in your purse, you stepped onto the elevator, pushing the button for the garage and waited as the doors shut and the lift descended, heading for the basement. You found Kara’s car, unlocking it and getting in.

The drive to your apartment didn’t take long and you pulled into the designated parking space in your garage, parking and shutting off the engine. You got out, leaving your purse in the car and locking it. ‘In and out, Y/N,’ you reminded yourself as you headed for the elevator.

The ride up to your floor was quiet, the sun had set and most people were already out enjoying the Friday nightlife. The elevator dinged, doors opening as it arrived on your floor and you stepped off the lift, heading for your apartment door.

You unlocked it, letting yourself in. You expected to see Chris but didn’t see him perched on the couch playing games. ‘Maybe he’s in his room,’ you told yourself as you walked through the apartment and to your room.

Turning on the light, you saw the culprit lying innocently on your desk and you glared at it, walking over to grab it and headed towards the door. As you exited your room, you heard Chris call out.

You turned the knob and looked into his room. “I thought I heard you, he said with a chuckle. “I sent you a text,” you answered, peering into his room. He was sitting at his computer, headphones hanging around his neck as he finished whatever he was working on.

“Forget something?” he asked, sounding amused at your forgetfulness. You nodded. “Yeah,” you replied. “I forgot my laptop charger,” you answered. Chris turned to look at you. “It’s always something,” he joked and you smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry,” you said, chuckling. “I’d forget my head if it wasn’t attached.” Chris smiled as he removed his headphones from around his neck, looking over at you. “It’s fine,” he said softly, moving to get up. You pushed the door open further as he approached you. “Do you need anything before I leave?” you asked.

Chris opened his mouth to respond but a sudden strong smell hit him. It was like someone had opened a bottle of vanilla extract and placed it under his nose. He knew that smell all too well. It made every nerve in his body burn. It made his pupils enlarge, his throat burn, and an intense heat form in the pit of his stomach. Lust and desire burned, the line blurring into the primal need to mate.

You hadn’t been careful enough. Neither of you had but then again this had never happened before. How didn't this come up? How hadn’t this happened before? Three years living together and this had never, ever happened? Either you were very lucky or you were always away when it happened.

Chris’ fingers curled into his palm, knuckles turning white as his nails dug into his skin in an attempt to ground himself but what normally worked had never been tested in this situation before.

Chris was about to start his heat and you… you were ovulating.

You watched as your best friend froze. “Chris?” you asked softly. You were surprised when he looked at you, his eyes darkening. “You need to leave,” he said, his voice low and dangerously so. “Chris? What’s wrong?” you asked, taking a step forward.

“Don’t!” your best friend growled. You froze, eyes widening. He’d never spoken to you like that before. “Chris you’re starting to worry me, what’s wr—” before you could finish your question, your best friend had closed the distance and grabbed you, pinning you against the wall next to the door.

“Chris!” you gasped, hands moving to his shoulders, gripping his shirt. “What’s gotten into you?”

His heat was close but it wasn’t supposed to start yet. He’d always been good about controlling his urges so what was different this time?

“I’m sorry,” Chris said softly, his head drooping as he struggled against his own urges. “This has never happened before.” You tried to push him away but he was much stronger than you were. “Why are you acting like this? You’ve always had a hold of yourself,” you continued. “You’re ovulating,” Chris interrupted. Your eyes widened.

“H-how did you know?”

Chris chuckled dryly. “I can smell it,” he answered. One of his hands moved up to your cheek as he raised his head. “I can smell it and it’s driving me crazy,” he continued. You felt one of his knees wedge between your thighs, pressing against your core. “It’s making me want to do things to you.”

You felt a shiver run up your spine. ‘Do things? What kind of things?’

“L-like what?” you whispered, swallowing thickly.

Chris leaned in, nuzzling against your cheek as his lips ghosted over your skin, stopping near your ear. “Would you be mad if I said exactly what I wanted to do to you?” he asked softly. You shook your head. Though you wouldn’t say it, you welcomed it, wondering just what was going on in his head.

“Tell me,” you replied.

You felt Chris nuzzle into your neck, sniffing eagerly. “I want to rip those cute lace panties of yours and stuff that sweet little pussy with my cock.” As if punctuating his words, Chris leaned in, pressing his thigh more firmly against your core.

You let out an involuntary whimper, causing him to groan in your ear. “I want to…” he trailed off. “No, I need to pin you down on the bed,” he said, making you gasp as he pressed his thigh even harder against you.

“Pin you down and fuck you until I fill you with so much cum. I need to breed you.,” he continued, lips ghosting over your skin. “Breed you like you’re the one in heat.” You let out another gasp, feeling one of his hands move to grab your ass, sneaking under your skirt.

“And of course you had to wear a skirt, didn’t you?” he growled. “I bet you knew it would drive me crazy. That I’d be able to smell everything.” You moaned into his ear as his hand continued to knead your ass, nails digging into your flesh

“I’ll bet you planned this, didn’t you? I bet your laptop charger isn’t even here,” he scoffed as if it wasn’t lying on the floor in the hallway where you’d dropped it. “Chris,” you whined, moaning as his fingers dug into the flesh of your ass. “Oh shit,” he groaned.

“Say my name like that again,” he dared you. “Say that again, baby. Moan my name and I’ll take you right now.”

A thick silence fell over the two of you as Chris pulled back, eyes searching your face, neither one speaking nor making a move until you finally cleared your throat and spoke. “Chris, we can’t,” you started, looking between his eyes. “W-we’re friends,” you added, letting out a yelp as Chris quickly backed up to create enough space to turn you around to face the wall before pinning you against it, pressing his erection into your back.

“You feel that?” he asked, grinding against you. “You feel what you do to me? What you’ve been doing to me since that first day in economics?” he asked. “I’ve wanted you ever since you sat next to me. Wanted to fuck you raw and pump you full.”

“We’re not just friends and you fucking know it,” he growled in your ear. Moaning, you pushed back against him, earning another deep growl.

“Don’t play with me,” he snapped. “I’m not playing…” you trailed off. “Daddy.” The name caused a chain reaction. Chris wrapped an arm around your waist from behind, lifting you easily and carrying you over to his bed where he deposited you face down.

You tried to turn over but he was quick to stop you, pushing your skirt up to expose your lace covered core. He quickly grabbed the material and tugged, ripping it easily. “Chris!” you gasped but the next second you were crying out as he landed a slap to your ass.

“Don’t speak until I tell you to,” he growled. You felt his fingers glide up and down your slit, gathering your arousal before pushing into your cunt. You let out a groan as he started to slowly pump his fingers before removing them. “Chest to the bed,” Chris instructed. “But keep your ass up.”

You did as he said, lowering your shoulders until your chest rested against the mattress. In that time, Chris removed his hat, tossing it aside as he knelt on the mattress behind you, hands grabbing your hips. He leaned closer, taking a deep inhale. “Fuck, I’m gonna ruin this pussy,” he growled. His tongue ran along your slit, from your clit up and back down, toying with the bundle of nerves, his nose bumping against your entrance.

Your fingers dug into the sheets as you moaned, pushing back against his face. Chris pulled back delivering a sharp smack to your thigh. “Hold still,” he barked. “Do that again and I’ll fuck your hole and not let you cum.”

You whined, wiggling your hips in a silent plea for more. Chris pushed you onto your side before flipping you onto your back, grabbing your hips and pulling your core to his face, burying it in your pussy, tongue ravishing your clit. Your thighs tried closing but Chris wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding them open as he licked at and sucked on your clit, drawing you closer to your climax.

“Shit, Chris!” you gasped, your hand moving to comb through his curls.

“M’gonna cum.”

Chris didn’t relent, flicking his tongue against your clit until you came undone under him, crying out as your orgasm crashed over you. You tried to shy away from his mouth but he held you still, never stopping as he drew you to another orgasm.

As you came down from the second, he finally let go of your thighs, pulling back to wipe his chin and taking ahold of the collar of his shirt and yanking it off over his head, tossing it aside. “I want you to ride my tongue but it’ll have to wait,” he said in a husky voice as his hands moved to undo his jeans, unbuckling but not removing his belt before unbuttoning and pulling down the zipper of his pants.

“Come here,” he said, holding out his hand and pulling you up when you took it. “Open your mouth,” he added as he pushed his jeans down around his thighs. You did as he asked, keeping your gaze on his face as he pulled his erection free from the confines of his underwear.

“Keep your mouth open for me,” he added, taking his cock in his hand, giving himself a couple strokes before guiding the tip past your lips, the weight heavy on your tongue. His free hand moved to your hair, taking a fistful and guiding your head. “Get to work, baby girl,” he murmured.

“Show daddy how you use your mouth.”

Your scalp stung, eyes watered and your throat hurt by the time Chris finally pulled your mouth off him. He’d forced his cock down your throat more than once and even fucked your throat a few times, making you gag. What little makeup you had on was ruined, tear stained cheeks and swollen lips but to Chris you were stunning.

“Lay back for me,” he ordered, discarding his pants and underwear, watching as you pulled your top off and threw it aside, scooting into the middle of his bed. Chris crawled over you, taking your lips in a searing kiss as his hands pushed your knees apart to accommodate him.

Your hands moved to his hair as he guided the head of his cock to your dripping entrance, pulling back just enough to make eye contact. “I want to watch your face as I enter you,” he growled. “Watch your eyes roll back into your head as I fill you with my cock.”

You moaned loudly as he pushed into you, stretching your cunt with his girth, inch by inch until he was buried inside your walls, groaning about the warmth and how tight you felt. It was taking all his strength to not start slamming into you immediately.

“I’m gonna give you a few minutes to adjust and then I’m gonna hold you down against this mattress and fuck you until you cum,” he gave you a shallow thrust, enjoying the gasp that escaped you. “And then I’m going to flip you over, ass up and fuck you until I cum and fill this pussy. You understand me?”

You nodded silently but that wasn’t good enough for him. Chris grabbed your face. “When I ask you a question, you answer me with your words. Don’t make me say it again.”

“Yes,” you answered quickly. “Yes, what?” he asked, tilting his head. “Yes, daddy,” you whispered. Chris let go and smirked down at you. “Good girl.”

No sooner than the words left his lips, his hands were on your hips, holding them in place as he started to pull out and snap his hips against yours, driving his cock into your cunt repeatedly. Your thighs tightened around his waist, prompting him to growl and halt his movements.

You were about to ask what the problem was when he took your ankles and placed your legs over his shoulders. The new position allowed you to feel more, moaning louder when he pounded into you harder. “Oh holy shit,” you gasped, feeling the head of his cock hit the soft gummy spot that had you seeing stars.

“Right there?” he asked, angling his hips and hitting the same spot, making you cry out.

He repeatedly hit the same spot over and over, moving his hand to rub circles against your clit with his thumb. “That’s it princess,” he huffed. “Cum all over daddy’s cock.” You let out a mewl, walls fluttering as you came. One of your hands moved to grab Chris’ wrist, trying to ground yourself as the aftershocks of your orgasm rolled over you.

With each pass over your clit with his thumb, Chris watched your body seize up and chuckled before pulling his cock from your abused hole.

He quickly turned you over, pulling your hips up and taking himself in his hand, stroking a couple times before pushing back into you. This position allowed for all of his cock to fit inside you, making you moan into the sheets, fingers curling into the fabric.

Chris took your hips in his hands, pulling out and snapping forward, his hips hitting your ass with each thrust. He set a relentless and merciless pace, grunting with effort as he slammed into you. The sheets muffled your cries and screams of pleasure as he allowed his animalistic urges to take over.

‘Breed. Breed. Breed,’ the beast in his mind said. Chris let out a low groan, almost like a growl as he pounded into you. Leaning over your back, he slammed his hips into you, burying his cock deep inside your walls before he started to roll his hips, earning a deep moan from you.

“Once I’m done with you,” he panted. “You aren’t going anywhere. You’ll stay here and I’m going to fuck you raw every night. Pump you full of cum and breed you. Fill you with so much cum it’ll have to take. Fuck you until I get you pregnant and then you’ll be mine.”

You moaned, walls clenching around his cock. You felt his hand in your hair, fingers curling into a fist before he pulled back, lifting your face from the sheets and allowing your moans to fill the room. “You want that, baby? You want daddy to turn you into his little breeding bitch?”

“Oh fuck, daddy yes!” you whimpered. “Please fill me!” Chris growled, letting go of your hair and moving his hand to your shoulder, pinning your chest down. You turned your head to the side, each thrust drawing a whimper from you.

“Daddy’s gonna fill you baby girl, cum inside you until it spills out and then I’ll just push it all back in,” he grunted. “Don’t want to waste a single drop.” Your hand moved to grab the wrist of his hand that was pressed against the mattress near your head.

“That’s right,” he groaned. “You’re mine. All mine and no one else’s.” You lifted your head, managing to turn and make eye contact with him. “I’ve always been yours, daddy,” you breathed. Chris growled, pressing his chest against your back and sinking his teeth into your shoulder.

You moaned, walls clenching around his cock as he rammed into you over and over. He lifted his head, lips close to your ear. “Mine,” he growled. “Mine, mine, mine!”

You pushed back to meet his thrusts and screamed as he slammed into you one last time, groaning into your ear as he came, releasing thick strands of hot cum into your cunt. You moaned as more and more cum spilled into your pussy. You had never known a man to have that much cum but then again, Chris wasn’t an ordinary man.

At the same time he was emptying his load into you, his cock started to swell inside, lodging itself in your walls. “Chris,” you whimpered. “What’s—” You heard him shush you, pressing kisses to your shoulder. “It’s okay,” he said reassuringly. “It’s normal. It’s my body’s way of ensuring it takes.”

“Ensuring what takes?”

Chris chuckled, his lips ghosting over your skin. “Ensuring my cum gets you pregnant,” he answered. You let out an uneasy chuckle. “And if it doesn’t take?” you replied. Chris hummed and pressed several more kisses against your shoulder before leaning in to whisper in your ear.

“I guess we’ll just have to keep trying then.”

ⓘ Graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.

#cultofdionysusnet #mfu-net #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #bang chan fanfiction #bang chan fanfic #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #kwanisms kinktober 2023

2K notes · View notes

melobin · 5 months

Text

જ⁀➴ riize as porn plots series masterlist

a series of seven stories written about the members of riize, each story features a different members with a different cliché porn plot

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

➾ shotaro as 𐙚 your new yoga instructor in ⤦

➙ yoga class summary - your friend drags you to a yoga class where you get a one on one lesson with the instructor. warnings - yoga instructor!shotaro x female reader, dom!shotaro, bad use of yoga terminology, mirror sex, unprotected sex, cream pie.

wc - 2.7k released - 05/01/2024

➾ eunseok as 𐙚 your boss in ⤦

➙ how to get a raise summary - as his secretary, you’re meant to be there for all of your bosses needs. so who would you be if you didn’t help him whilst he’s stressed? especially if you were getting something out of it yourself. warnings - fucking boss eunseok warnings- boss eunseok x secretary reader, dom!eunseok, sir kink, fingering, oral giving and receiving, unprotected sex, clothed sex, big dick!eunseok, manhandling, spitting, creampie, cock slapping, face fucking, cum eating, facial. wc - 5.4k released - 10/01/2024

➾ sungchan as 𐙚 your mechanic in ⤦

➙ nuts and bolts summary - your car has been acting up all week so you finally decide to take it to the garage after work, lucky for you there’s only one person there and you’re his last customer of the day. warnings - mechanic!sungchan x customer!femalereader, dom sungchan, strength kink, size kink, choking, unprotected sex, rough sex, praise, hair pulling, biting, finger sucking, manhandling, face fucking, oral sex f and m receiving, cum eating, heavy use of good girl

wc - 4.3k released - 13/01/2024

➾ wonbin as 𐙚 your interviewer in ⤦

➙ casting couch summary - as a newbie to the porn industry you go through the same hazing process as everyone else. the casting couch. you were just as nervous as you were excited when you found out famed porn star park wonbin would be conducting your interview. warnings - experienced porn star!wonbin x amateur female porn star!reader, dom wonbin, finger sucking, nipple play, oral f and m receiving, face fucking, spitting, manhandling, unprotected sex, rough sex, being recorded. wc - 4.3k released - 06/02/24

➾ seunghan as 𐙚 your poolboy in ⤦

➙ wet summary - your pools been getting dirty due to your usual pool cleaner being on holiday, your neighbours notice this and decide to offer you the help of their son, who would you be to decline such a charming young man a nice, wet job? warnings - milf!reader x neighbour seunghan, pool cleaner!seunghan, age gap, reader is older than seunghan, reader is a single mother, reader has big tits. tit fucking, blowjob, riding, mentions of spit, unprotected sex, outdoor sex. wc - 4.1k released - 26/05/2024

➾ sohee as 𐙚 your pizza delivery boy in ⤦

➙ a better way summary - due to a lack of food in your apartment, you decide to order pizza. the only issue is, when it arrives you realise you can’t find your purse. you don’t want him to leave with the pizza and you definitely don’t want him to call the cops, so you sort out your own way of paying him. warnings - pizza delivery boy!sohee x female reader, power play isn’t really used ... wc - tba. released - coming soon.

➾ anton as 𐙚 your nerdy tutor in ⤦

➙ new things summary - as the hot, popular girl on campus, you never cared too much about your grades until the college decided to give you a warning, if your grades didn’t improve you’d be kicked out, so you get sent to the nerdy loser to be tutored. whilst you’re with him, you decide he needs some tutoring of his own.

warnings - nerd tutor!anton x bimbo!reader, sub!anton ... wc - tba. released - coming soon.

#riize smut #shotaro smut #eunseok smut #sungchan smut #wonbin smut #seunghan smut #sohee smut #anton smut

1K notes · View notes

andvys · 27 days

Text

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter fifteen ⭐︎ I thought the plane was going down, how’d you turn it right around?

Warnings: slight angst, fluff, a lot of fluff, alcohol consumption, clingy!reader, drunk!reader

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve gets to know a side of you, you have never shown him before, and he takes the final step towards realization.

Word count: 10k+

Author’s note: SO @hellfire--cult and I have been waiting for this chapter (and especially for the next one). I'm so happy that we're finally here, and as always I'm giving a special shoutout to my lovely Roe, who not only helped with ideas but also wrote the whole last paragraph, the drive home and all the fluff at Steve's house. Give her all the love she deserves ♡ ilysm roe thank youuuu

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Red, white and blue colors flash before your eyes, everywhere you look as you walk through the grocery store with Max. You can’t even bear to look at the holiday themed snacks and decorations on the shelves. All week, people have been preparing for a holiday, you used to love, now it’s nothing but a reminder of what you lost – of what Max lost.

You avoided going to Big Buy’s all week, for this exact reason.

But now you were the one who offered to go inside, when Eddie was the one who wanted to get the pre-drinks, you don’t even know why you did it, maybe it was to get away from Dustin’s and Lucas’s banter, or maybe you just wanted to prepare yourself for something much bigger.

The Fun Fair takes place this year, just as it did, last year. And you friends wanted to celebrate the Fourth of July there. You don’t mind, you really don’t, but every place you turn today, reminds you of a dear friend you lost.

Max walks beside you quietly. She looks around with heavy eyes and tension in her shoulders, she’s fidgeting with the bracelet that Lucas gifted to her, and keeps her eyes on the ground.

You didn’t say anything yet, not wanting to trigger any more sadness. You’re surprised that she even offered to go inside with you, she could’ve waited and stayed with the guys, but she didn’t.

“This day sucks.”

These are the first words she spoke out loud, ever since you stepped inside the store.

“Yeah,” you mumble, quietly, not knowing what to say, because all you can think about is Billy, and how he died on this exact day, one year ago, when you were still so unaware of the dark truth that lied beneath this town, when you thought that it was the fire that killed him and not one of Vecna’s creatures.

You weren’t even there, but thinking about it makes you sick and angry. You can’t even imagine what Max must’ve felt like that night. Or what she is feeling now.

When you stop in the drink aisle, you look around for the beer Eddie asked for, but instead your eyes fall on the one brand that Billy always used to buy. Sometimes he’d bring a six pack over and leave some cans in your fridge for some other time, you are pretty sure that there are still two leftover cans hidden behind all the other drinks in your fridge.

A sigh falls from your lips, “yeah, it does.”

She glances at you, sadness settling into her features, when she sees the way your eyes fill with grief.

“Billy would roll his eyes at us, right now,” she mumbles, trying to crack a joke.

A small chuckle escapes you, and you turn to look at her with a weak smile on your face, “yes, he would.”

She purses her lips as she looks at the beer, “are you gonna let me drink tonight?”

You scrunch your nose, and shake your head, “are you crazy?” You scoff, as you step forward and reach for the beers, Eddie asked for, and the ones Billy would have gotten for himself. “How about you turn twenty one first, and then I’ll let you drink.”

Max laughs at you and rolls her eyes.

“You’re not even twenty one, and you’re drinking – oh! And buying the beers with a fake ID probably!”

“Shush,” you wave your hand at her when an employee walks past you, giving you both a weird look.

“I’m very close to twenty one,” you whisper.

“You’re not even twenty yet–”

“I’m turning twenty, this year. Now stop arguing with me, and get yourself a coke or something.”

Max groans at you, “fine,” she murmurs as she follows you, “why are you even getting any drinks now when you can buy some at the Fair?”

“I’m pretty sure that Eddie doesn’t want to buy any of those overpriced drinks that taste like absolute shit.”

She snorts, “he shouldn’t even be drinking, he’s driving.”

“Don’t worry, he’ll walk you all home if he gets drunk.”

Her jaw drops, and annoyance flashes in her eyes, “are you serious–”

You laugh at the look on her face, shaking your head at her, “I’m just kidding, when does Eddie ever get drunk?” You chuckle, “he’ll have one beer tops, no more, he’ll sober up till then, and if not then uh… Steve will drive you home.”

“Okay,” she sighs, as the momentarily amusement leaves her face again, and the sadness begins to sink back in, making you much more aware of your own.

“Hey, Max?”

She turns back to you, and raises her eyebrows in question.

“If you feel overwhelmed at some point, you can find me and we can leave, at any time, okay?”

She smiles a little and nods her head.

“Okay,” she whispers, “same goes for you, if you want to leave, I’ll go with you.”

“Okay,” you smile at her, “now let’s go pay for these and get out of here,” you mumble as you gesture to the beer in your hands.

You feel relief rushing through you once you are out of the busy store again. The golden evening sun hits your skin, still blessing it with warmth, the air around you smells like summer, like fresh cut grass, hot pavement and honeysuckle. The wind kisses your skin and blows through your hair, it’s warm yet refreshing, it feels nice.

“Did you buy that for me?” Dustin grins at you, pointing at the beers when you get into the passenger seat.

Eddie glares at him through the rearview mirror.

“Very funny, Dusty Bun.”

Lucas laughs at the nickname, nudging his shoulder against Dustin’s, “Dusty Bun,” he cackles, wiggling his brows.

“Shut up, dude.”

“You kids are too young to even think about trying beer,” you glare at the three teens in the back, most specifically at Lucas, who’s had some before.

His smile falls a little, and he clears his throat, “that was one time.”

“Yeah, it better stay that way,” you point at him.

Max snorts at the glare on your face.

“Yes, mom.”

Eddie and Dustin chuckle.

Your jaw drops, and you furrow your brows at the teen who is squished between Max and Dustin.

“You act like a mom sometimes!” Lucas raises his hands up in surrender, shrugging at you.

“No, I don’t!”

“Yeah, you do, you’re mama bear,” Eddie snorts, making Dustin laugh louder.

“Yeah, you’re not fooling us with your grumpy act.”

You squint your eyes at the curly head, who is grinning happily at you.

“Just accept it, Sweetheart,” Eddie chuckles, “you’re the mom of the group.”

“No, I only joined this group a few months back, there has to be a different mom–”

“Oh no, we only had single dad Steve,” Lucas giggles, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “but we got a mom and a dad now, so…”

The smug look on his face, and the teasing in his eyes, isn’t exactly hard to miss. You know exactly what he is going at, what he has been going at for the past few months now.

Sometimes, you can’t help but wonder if he somehow knows about your feelings for Steve, if he always knew about them, or if he is simply just teasing and still in the dark about everything.

You are good at hiding your feelings, you always have been, no one ever found out about your feelings for Steve unless you wanted them to, but if there is someone who you wouldn’t underestimate, then it’s definitely Lucas, he is too smart for his own good, sometimes.

Eddie snorts beside you, mumbling, “mommy and daddy.”

You elbow him, into his side, earning a groan from him.

“That wasn’t very nice!” Eddie grumbles as he shoots you a glare, and presses his hand against his stomach.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Edward.”

He squints his eyes at you.

“Who is Eddie then?” Dustin asks.

“He’s the cool uncle,” Lucas shrugs.

“Damn right, now stop yapping,” Eddie mumbles as he takes a look over his shoulder, “are you ready to throw up Hot Dogs after going on the roller coaster?”

All three of them groan in disgust, scrunching up their faces, making him laugh.

You shake your head at him when he starts laughing.

“You’re such a menace.”

Eddie only chuckles at you, he starts the car and turns up the music, and he rolls down the windows before he speeds out of the parking lot.

You embrace the moments of peace before the chaos of the fair hits you, screaming children, crowds of people, and the overwhelming smell of food on every corner are something you are not looking forward to despite the hollowness in your stomach. You couldn’t get anything down the past few days, you nearly threw up this morning when you walked into the diner with Eddie, and the smell of Bacon hit you.

The wind weaves through your hair as Eddie drives down the main road.

The sound of music distracts you from your sad thoughts.

The thought of him, filling your heart with life and your soul with hope.

He grounds you in your worst moments, and he doesn’t even know it.

The fairground is alive with music and screaming children, the sound of the roller coasters moving, conversations and laughter from every corner. The dazzling lights are a stark contrast against the dark sky, the smell of food wafts through the air.

Robin and Vickie are standing next to Steve, giggling about something as they sip on their mixed beers. He is looking around, trying to catch sight of you, but you are nowhere to be found, and he is beginning to worry.

Max and El had dragged you away for a roller coaster ride, but that was over an hour ago, and he hasn’t seen you ever since.

Max had warned him before, when she reminded him of what this day means to you, of what happened a year back, of what and who you had lost.

Steve doesn’t know how you deal with grief, how you feel on these kinds of days, there are too many of them in your life. He doesn’t know how you cope, he wishes that he could be there for you and give you a shoulder to lean on – but you aren’t very good at showing your true feelings or emotions, he only saw a glimpse of the truth that you hide behind those high walls you built around yourself and he doubts that you would come to him for comfort.

A dreadful feeling is gnawing in his chest the more time passes without you being seen.

“Hey Dingus, we’re going on the Ferris Wheel,” Robin nudges his shoulder, grinning at him.

He blinks, tearing his eyes away from the crowds, he nods at his best friend.

“Sure, have fun.”

Robin furrows her brows as she takes in the sight of his frown, “are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he murmurs and plasters a smile on his face, “go and have fun with your girl.”

She hesitates, her smile becoming weaker now, “you should go find Eddie or Dustin.”

“Yeah, I will, in a second.”

“Your feet are not glued to the ground are they?” Vickie asks, chuckling.

“Yeah, you’ve been stuck in this spot for like thirty minutes now!” Robin exclaims as she points her ringed finger at him, eyeing the way he is leaning against the wall with tension in his body.

Steve chuckles, and brings his hand up to the side of his face, cupping his cheek for a moment, “I’m just looking out for the kids.”

Robin snorts, though she gives him a suspicious look.

“Ah, but they’re not around,” she says, tilting her head as she gestures to all the strangers that surround the field, instead of the teens.

“I told them I’d be here if they needed anything,” he shrugs and waves his hand at her, “now go and have your kiss on the top of the Ferris Wheel.”

Robin slaps his shoulder, her cheeks taking on a deep red color, as Vickie giggles behind her.

He chuckles at her, wiggling his brows and smirking at his best friend.

Robin rolls her eyes and turns away from him, she offers her hand out to the redhead, who reaches for it, though with a blush on her cheeks and a shy smile on her lips.

“See you later, Dingus,” Robin waves at Steve, not giving him the chance to respond before she drags her girl away and pushes through the crowds with her.

Steve’s eyes follow them until he can no longer see them as they get lost in the midst of the chaos. Laughing children run around, chasing each other, a group of teenage boys carrying drinks they shouldn’t be allowed to buy, two young women walk past him, giggling amongst themselves as they eye him with interest in their eyes, Steve pays no mind to them, not even bothering to spare them a look despite the very obvious glances he is getting, even as they had already passed him.

His eyes follow a different sight and his ears perk up at the sound of giggles that sound like yours, his lips twitch at the sound and his heart flutters wildly in his chest.

He pushes himself off the tree he is leaning against and turns to look around. Steve’s hazel eyes soften the moment he finally sees you.

You are standing in a circle with Eddie and his bandmates who all keep pestering you over something. Eddie leans closer to you and pinches your cheek, while Gareth jumps around you like some hyper puppy, his curls bouncing and his face flickering with amusement when you keep waving your hand at him.

Steve smiles at the giggle that falls from your lips when Eddie swats your hand away after you ruffle his curls.

He watches the way your lips move as you stare at him with a smug look on your face, saying something to him that makes him clutch his chest and gasp dramatically.

Steve shakes his head as the metalhead lunges at you and you squeal in surprise before you turn around and run off with a giggle, bolting into the crowd with Eddie and Gareth hot on your heels, while Jeff and Grant follow the three of you slowly, shaking their heads in amusement.

Surprise lingers inside of him, Steve had never seen you so playful before, he had never witnessed you letting loose and having genuine fun. You are always on guard, always hiding away behind your brooding act that is slowly becoming less and less visible.

Something has changed, something in your behavior has shifted in the past few weeks. You seem happier, you seem to smile more, you seem to be kinder to the people around you.

Your walls are still up, but the foundation has begun to crumble, just like his did.

You let him see a glimpse of something he never thought was even there, he saw your vulnerable side and your soft one, he saw how lovingly you treated your baby niece, he saw how sweet and gentle you could be – he saw the real you and it only made him weaker than ever before.

There was always a part of him that left him feeling weak whenever he was with you – it wasn’t a bad kind of weak, but it was one that scared him.

It doesn’t scare him anymore.

He embraces the weakness now.

Something, someone crashes into his chest, making him stumble back from the force, when he looks down, he finds you staring up at him, with your arms now wrapped around his waist and a softened look in your eyes as a smile rests on your lips. The dazzling, colorful lights from the rollercoaster and the ferris wheel only brighten the color of your eyes, making him get lost in them so easily.

He feels your arms around his torso, and your hands on his back, your chest is now pressed against his and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say that the look in your eyes is a dreamy one as they look into his.

The warmth in his chest blooms, the smile on his lips grows bigger, something in his stomach flutters when you stand on your tippy toes and remind him of the height difference between the two of you.

“Hi Stevie,” you say softly.

He would be lying if he said, he isn’t caught off guard by the tone in your voice and the look in your eyes, by your arms that are wrapped around him and your body that is pressed against his, so tightly and intimately, despite all the eyes that could see.

“Hi Blondie,” he smiles as he slowly wraps his arms around you and acts on his feelings, when he brings you closer.

The smell of your perfume is intoxicating and it does nothing to weaken the fluttering in his stomach. You smell like the cotton candy that you had shared with Max earlier and the beer you probably had been drinking all night, which is surprising, considering how much you despise the bitter taste of beer.

“I missed you.”

His eyes widen in surprise, and his eyebrows shoot up, the fluttering in his stomach now growing even stronger than before.

You woke up in each other's arms this morning, you even sat at the kitchen table and drank your morning coffee together before you left to meet up with Eddie.

But you missed him.

You missed him, like he missed you.

Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, or maybe not – he hopes not.

“Yeah?” He whispers.

You nod, your eyes flicker to his lips, before they move back up, to meet his.

“I missed you too, Blondie.”

He nearly crumbles when your smile grows even bigger and a blush creeps up on your face, a breathy, small giggle falls from your lips. And then, you surprise him once again, when you bury your face in his chest and hug him tightly.

His heart rate picks up and his breathing becomes heavy from all the emotions inside of him.

He certainly never met this side of you before,and he never even knew that you could become much softer than what he had already seen of you.

Without looking around to make sure that you are away from prying eyes, he wraps his arms tighter around you, and hugs you in a way he wanted to all night.

Confusion, adoration and happiness floods through him, all at once.

Here he thought that this day would bring out some darkness in you, that you would hide in a corner and try to drink away your sorrows but instead the alcohol in your system brought something else out in you.

As Steve holds you in the middle of the fairground and you slide your palm over his chest, resting your hand above the place where his heart beats strongly, he feels himself falling into your embrace, losing all his vision of the people and the things before him, losing all the sounds around him, no longer feeling the ground beneath his feet – all he sees is you, all he hears is the beating of his own heart, all he feels is you, only you.

And as though, it didn’t hit him hard enough already, you place your chin on his chest and you tilt your head up to look at him, giving him a sweet smile, “kissy?” You ask, puckering your lips.

He could melt into a puddle, right then and there.

Despite not wanting to, he lets his eyes roam the space around you, making sure that none of your friends are watching, before he leans in to place a kiss on your lips – one that is way too quick for your liking, the pout that follows your puckered lips makes his heart burst.

You look at him with literal puppy eyes, glinting with a pleading look.

He almost doesn’t recognize you – you are not the Blondie that he saw a few hours back, but he is not complaining in the slightest, he really likes this side of you.

Cupping your cheeks, he rests his large palms against your skin, his fingertips getting lost in your hair as he leans down to kiss you again, smacking his lips against yours, he delivers a loud kiss, one that makes you giggle when he pulls away again and looks down at you with a lazy smile on his face.

“How much did you drink?” Steve asks, chuckling when you keep staring at him with a big smile.

“Just a little bit,” you slur, and raise your hand to show him as you furrow your brows and hold your thumb and pointer finger into an L shape, “so much.”

He laughs as he tucks your hair behind your ears, “alright.”

“I want something else now.”

“What, more alcohol?” Steve asks, raising his brows.

You shake your head, scrunching up your nose in a way that makes him smile as he looks at you adoringly.

“No, I think I had too much already.”

“Yeah, I think so too, honey,” he murmurs, the nickname rolling off his tongue easily, almost normal, “you don’t feel sick, do you?”

“No, just thirsty.”

“Alright, let’s get you something to drink then,” he says, unable to stop smiling, when you look at him this way. He moves his hands away from your face and he reaches for your hand, sliding his palm against your own, he entwines his fingers with yours, and you welcome his action, happily.

Steve isn’t drunk, he didn’t have a single sip of alcohol this evening, not a single drag of Argyle’s joint and yet, he feels as though he is under the influence of something strong, his mind is in a haze, that careless and freeing feeling lingers in his chest, happiness and giddiness rushes through him and he feels as though he is floating with you.

He can’t even find it in himself to care if anyone sees him with you like this – smiling at each other, hugging and kissing one another, holding hands, and acting like a couple. He knows your friends are here, but Steve just doesn’t give a damn – not even when Heidi walks past him with her friends and they all look at you weirdly.

He hears the hushed whispers, he sees the squinted eyes as they look you up and down and their eyes fall on your entwined fingers. He pays no mind to the way they look at him, but irritation sparks at him when they keep staring at you. He can see the judgment, and the jealousy, it’s so obvious.

Steve holds back the eyeroll and he grasps your hand tighter as he begins to drag you away from the prying eyes and the whispers of envy. He would rather kiss you and flip them off but he cannot risk this, he can’t risk you two getting caught. Rumors would circulate, words would get twisted and it would only be a matter of time until all your friends would find out.

And he isn’t ready to get caught, he isn’t ready to lose this, to lose you.

He glances down at you, seeing the smile that didn’t leave your face just yet. You are unaware to all the eyes on you, to the looks you were given, you are still holding onto his hand as tight as before, stepping closer to him when a group of boys rush past you.

You turn to him and raise your head to glance at him, shooting him a sweet smile as you squeeze his hand, causing his heart to flutter and his smile to reappear.

You are so cute like this.

He pulls you closer and shields you from anyone who brushes past you as you walk through the crowd together, getting lost in the chaotic field, where the music is louder and the people are too.

Steve looks around, trying to catch sight of the teens or Eddie and his bandmates but he only sees the town people that he couldn’t care less about while you follow him like some lost puppy, clinging to his side and looking up with big eyes, every few seconds or so.

You both get in line at the drink stall, your hands are still joined, fingers entwined and arms still pressed together. You stumble into him, prompting him to hold you a little tighter.

“I’m sorry,” you slur as you reach your free hand up to grab his arm.

“It’s fine,” he chuckles at you, adoring you a little more and more as the seconds pass.

You are drunk – not tipsy, not slightly drunk, no, you are genuinely and definitely drunk. And as he stands here with you, eying you closely and watching the way you keep looking up at him with your widened pupils and your lazy smiles, he realizes that he had never actually witnessed you being drunk – high and tipsy? Sure. But never drunk.

“Why’d you drink so much, Blondie?”

“I didn’t even drink that much,” you shrug, “I’m just not used to drinking that beer.”

Steve raises his brows, knowing how much you despise the taste of regular beer. You only drink it when it’s mixed with something.

“What kind of beer?”

You furrow your eyebrows, your eyes flash with confusion, you seemingly can’t remember the name of it.

You look down and your eyes widen when you find a discarded can on the grass, you point your finger at it, “that one.”

Steve’s eyes follow your gaze and the direction your finger is pointing at, he raises his eyebrows again.

“You don’t even like beer that much,” he mumbles and turns back to you.

“Billy did,” you shrug.

Oh.

His features relax again and his shoulders slump a little, realization flickers in his eyes.

You didn’t drink for fun, you were trying to forget about the sadness and the grief that must’ve lingered all day.

He is surprised that the alcohol didn’t have a negative effect on you. Drinking while feeling sad can worsen those emotions, the alcohol can transform them into a darker sadness or even into anger and despair.

But you seem fine, happy even.

If only he knew that he is the reason for it.

“The fireworks are about to start,” you say, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He blinks.

“Yeah,” Steve nods.

“Do you want to watch them with me?”

His heart skips a beat at the softness in your voice, at the hopeful look in your eyes and the sweet smile on your lips.

Of course he does.

“Yeah,” he smiles, nodding. “I’d love to.”

Your eyes crinkle as you beam at him, stealing his breath away with simple reactions like these.

Steve is not even sure if anyone had ever looked at him this way, no one has ever even made him feel this way, no one had ever stolen his breath away just from simply looking at him the way you do now.

You take him by surprise when you stand on your tippy toes and lean closer to him to place a kiss on his cheek, leaving him a blushing mess.

Your giggle sounds like music to his ears, your touch drives him crazy as you squeeze yourself against him and lay your head on his chest as your arms come around his torso again.

He could fall to his knees right here, right now.

Is this the real you?

Is this the side you’ve been hiding from the world?

Is this the way you would have always been with him, had you not experienced so much loss and pain?

Steve wraps his arms around you, unable to hold back from showing and giving you the affection that you are blessing him with in this moment, even when the anxiety of getting caught still lingers.

He cups your cheeks and leans closer to your ear, “where do you wanna watch the fireworks?”

“Maybe the woods? Or the big field?” You ask as you look at him with big eyes, “so we can be away from all these annoying people?”

He laughs when you gesture to the loud fairground visitors.

The lights that flicker around you kiss your beautiful face and your skin that he wants to feel on his at any time, your lips that always look so inviting, you look so delicate, so soft, so gorgeous, you look like someone that could ruin his life and right in this moment, he doesn’t even mind it, he would let you.

It hits him, in this second, it hits him just how bad he’s got it for you.

Steve Harrington is down bad.

Down bad to a point in which he almost calls you ‘my girl’ when he is about to order your drink, he catches himself just in time but he can’t hide the blush that creeps up on his face.

You don’t seem to notice though, you swing your joined hands back and forth and look around with a contentment in your relaxed features.

He hands you the ice cold pepsi after placing the ten dollar bill on the small desk, telling the teen behind the counter to keep the change.

“That was nice of you,” you say as you both start walking away from the drink stall and from the crowds.

“What, letting him keep the change?”

You nod and let go of his hand to open your can.

“Poor guy has to work on a holiday, he should get a good tip,” Steve shrugs, already missing the feeling of your hand in his, he raises his arm and wraps it around your shoulder instead, pulling you closer against him.

Your lips twitch at that, a smile forms on your face.

“Still, that was nice of you, you’re a nice guy,” you giggle.

“Well, I gotta make up for all the times I wasn’t a nice guy.”

You don’t say anything to that, you can’t. Steve doesn’t even blame you, you witnessed him in his worst moments, you were his target, more than once.

You shot back at him but your words weren’t hurtful, your insults and your jabs were never personal. You got under his skin, but not in the way he got under yours.

He truly wasn’t a nice guy to you and that might be one of his biggest regrets. He was mean, awful even and now as he looks at you, at the cute frown on your face as you pop the can, at the way you take a sip of your favorite drink and smile afterwards, he can’t understand how he could ever treat you so unkindly, how he didn’t see you before.

You might’ve been rough, snarky and unapproachable but there was never denying of how beautiful you are, how beautiful you have always been.

How come he never asked you out?

He might’ve never seen this side of you before and he only ever knew one side of you, but your snarkiness wouldn’t have kept King Steve away from you, if anything, your little act should’ve made him more intrigued.

And now he can’t help but wonder what things would have been like had he not treated you the way he did, had he asked you out and fought for a chance with you.

Could’ve things been different then?

Would you have fallen in love with him?

Would you have prevented the heartbreak that Nancy had cursed him with two years ago?

The pain from his last relationship no longer matters to Steve, not since you, but this question still lingers.

“This spot is perfect.”

You pull him out of the past and back into the presence with a tug on his hand.

Steve looks around, you are no longer surrounded by people, instead it’s the trees that are around you and him, you’re at the edge of the forest, not far enough to drown at the music and the chatter but quiet enough to hear your voice clearer now, it’s much darker out here but he can still see you well enough.

You close your eyes and drink your pepsi, completely unaware of his unwavering glances. A sigh leaves your lips and you place the now half full can on the ground before you step closer to him and reach for his hand again, taking a look at the watch around his wrist, you squint your eyes and lean down closer, “it’s about to start any minute.”

He smiles at you, nodding his head slowly, “yeah.”

Steve feels the urge to pull you tight against him, to hold you and kiss you like he never did before.

You look up and meet his eyes when you notice his staring, a smile appears on your lips, “what?” You ask with a soft giggle.

He shakes his head and shrugs, “nothing.”

You bite your lip and he wants nothing more than to grab your face and kiss you breathless.

You raise your eyebrows at him and stare back at him, stumbling over air as you try to take a step closer to him, making you both chuckle at your drunken clumsiness, your hand falls against his body, while he grabs your waist, steadying you on your own feet, “whoa, easy tiger.”

You giggle at the nickname, making his own smile widen.

“You’re really drunk, aren’t you?”

You don’t even deny it, in fact, you don’t even answer the question as you keep staring up at him, keeping your hands against his chest as your eyes flicker from the spitcurl that hangs over his forehead, his eyes and his lips.

Steve’s stomach flutters just the way his heart does, his skin tingles beneath from your touches, the look in your eyes makes him want to kiss you even more.

“You’re feeling okay though, right?” He whispers as he slowly brings his hand up to the side of your face and he cups your cheek.

“Yeah, I’m okay now,” you nod, leaning into his touch, “I-I just… I miss him.”

Steve might never understand the friendship you had with Billy, he only knew the ugly sides of him but you knew more, you saw deeper, you were his friend – something Steve didn’t even know Billy had, he was sure the guy didn’t even know what the term ‘friendship’ even meant.

“And that’s okay, Blondie,” he says, giving you a sad smile, “it’s okay to miss people and to grieve for them.”

Tears well up in your eyes and your lips curl downwards.

Steve didn’t mean for this to happen, he didn’t mean to make you cry.

“Hey,” he whispers, pulling you closer as he catches the first tear with his thumb, “it’s okay, honey.”

You sniffle and roll your eyes at yourself, “he would punch me in the face for crying,” you joke.

Steve can’t help but laugh.

“And he’d make fun of me for being with you, he would like–” you pause and lean in to peck his lips, “he would smack my head if I did that in front of him!” You say with a giggle, despite the tears that still keep falling.

His cheeks heat up at the kiss, the need for more growing strong in his chest.

“He really didn’t like me, huh?”

“Not one fucking bit, Stevie,” you chuckle sadly.

Steve wonders how things would be if he was still here, would this thing between you even work out?

Would Billy keep you away from him?

“But nothing could take me away from you, he’d just have to suck it up,” you whisper as you peck his lips again, shutting down the worries in his head.

He almost feels his pulse in his throat as his heart beats faster, your words doing little to calm the beating of his heart.

“Oh?” Is the only thing he can say as all the other words freeze in his brain.

You nod as you look into his eyes deeply, refusing to break eye contact. He notices the way your chest starts moving faster as your breathing gets heavier, he sees the way your smile transforms into a nervous frown and your throat bobs as you try to come up with words.

His breath hitches in his throat when you whisper his name shakily.

“I–”

Whatever you were about to say gets lost in the wind as the loud explosion in the sky cuts you off and tears your attention away from him. The colors pop in the sky, illuminating the darkened space around you both.

You tilt your head to watch the lights that reflect in your eyes, the smile you wore before makes its way back into your pretty face, the tension in your body disappears and you relax into him again.

But while your drunken mind gets distracted by all of this so easily, Steve only really sees you. He doesn’t look up just yet, he lets himself admire you for a moment.

Your eyes light up as they meet his for a brief second, flashing with awe.

His heart could jump out of his chest from how hard it’s beating, his knees could give out any moment now.

“Look!” You beam at him as you point your finger at the blue colors.

His gaze follows yours but it returns to your face so quickly, something about you pulls him in, a magnet, a string, a strong connection – he can’t identify it yet, but he feels like his whole being yearns for you and not just sexually.

He wants to keep doing this, he wants to keep holding your hand, he wants to keep hugging you, he wants to keep spending time with you like this, he wants to stand under the night sky with you, and he especially wants to do this.

“Hey,” he whispers as he cups your cheeks with both hands, pulling your attention back to him.

You greet him with an adoring smile, “hi,” you whisper.

Steve caresses your cheek, he is starting to lean in closer, fading out the colors that flash in his peripheral vision, before his lips can even touch yours, you throw your arms around his neck and beat him to it, pressing your lips against his over and over again before you move on to both of his cheeks and even the tip of his nose as you start showering him in kisses, catching him off guard completely.

Steve giggles in surprise, his cheeks match the colors that lighten up the sky as they glow red.

And then, you finally pull him into a longer kiss.

You close your eyes and he does too, your lips start moving slowly, passionately. You rest your hands on his neck and steal his breath away by deepening the kiss as you slip your tongue into his mouth and let him have a taste of your sweetness, the cotton candy and the pepsi still linger on your lips.

Your noses bump into each other and you break the kiss with a giggle, giving him a sweet smile before you lean back in again, kissing and continuing to steal his breath away, not knowing what you have just done to his poor heart, how much life, how much hope you have filled it with.

A smile, a giggle, a simple kiss with you is all it takes for all the defense around him to crumble into dust.

Something he thought he lost seeps back into his heart, something he thought that stayed in the past and to never be touched again blooms in him.

Everything inside of him screams in joy, his stomach doing somersaults, his skin prickling from the excitement, his lips tugging into a smile even through the kiss that he deepens more and more.

This kiss is different from all the other ones you have shared before, this one means something, this one won’t lead to you tearing each other’s clothes off. No, this is just a kiss.

A kiss that means everything.

A kiss that changes everything.

You stole his breath completely and made it your own, you stole his heart, his soul, his whole being.

And the noise of the fireworks, the sparks igniting from them, match those in Steve's heart. Just exploding, bursting, burning him from inside out.

And he embraces the feeling fully.

He wants more of this, more of you.

He wants to cross a line, he wants you in a whole new way and he is no longer ashamed to admit it to himself.

It feels like forever as you stand there beneath the sparkling sky, kissing and staying in each other’s embrace as you both savor every second of this moment, only pulling away to catch your breaths before you lean back in for more.

The fireworks stop, but only those in the sky.

Your lips are still moving with each other, your tongues still mingling together, whines and whimpers fall from you – tonight, they don’t fill him with lust and need, no, tonight they fill him with adoration.

Your arms tighten around his neck, your nose is flush against his as you refuse to break the kiss but the lack of air makes it impossible and it forces you away from him, though you don’t pull away too far, only enough to catch your breath.

Steve leans his forehead against yours, slowly opening his eyes to look into yours, his heart flutters yet again when he sees how wide your eyes are, how they flicker with deep emotions.

Unable to hold back, he leans in to peck your puffy lips one more time.

“Steve,” you whisper as your hands begin to slip from his shoulders to his chest.

“Yes?”

“Can I be with you tonight?”

He furrows his brows at your question, he wants you to be with him tonight, he wants you with him every night.

“Of course, Blondie.”

You smile at him though it’s a weak one and it makes him frown.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head, scrunching your nose.

“Are you feeling sick?” He asks, tilting your head up.

You shake your head again, “just really tired.”

Your words are still slurred, the alcohol still deep in your system.

“Let’s go home then.”

“Do you want to go?” You ask, looking at him with a cute frown on your face as you tilt your head to the side, “I-I can still wait if you want to stay here longer.”

Steve smiles at you, shaking his head, “no, I want to go home with you.”

The smile on your lips replaces the frown.

He brushes his thumb against your bottom lip and stares at you adoringly.

“Come on, we should tell Eddie.”

You pick up your discarded drink before you slide your fingers through his, intertwining your fingers with his again.

“Let’s go,” he whispers, squeezing your hand.

You follow him without a single word, walking beside him quietly as you make your way out of the woods and back into the fair where the lights are bright and he can see you better now.

It’s still just as crowded as it was before and just as loud.

Steve keeps you close, glancing at you, he notices the squinted eyes and how displeased you look by all the noises and the people around you.

He holds your hand tighter, giving it another reassuring squeeze.

“I can’t wait to go to sleep,” you mumble, taking the last few sips of your soda before you throw it into the trashcan you pass by. You wrap your free hand around his bicep and squish your cheek against it.

Steve’s smile widens, his eyes glint with nothing but fondness.

“There you are!”

Steve turns to find Eddie walking towards you both, throwing his hands up with a worried look on his face that slowly begins to disappear when he realizes that you have been with him all this time, though his eyebrows pull together when he sees your entwined hands and the closeness between you.

Steve expects you to run away from him and into your best friend’s arms, but you don’t, you stick to his side.

“Hi Eddie!” You mumble lazily as a smile appears on your face.

You all halt in your tracks once you meet in the middle.

“Hey sweets, are you okay?” He asks, eying you up and down one more time.

“Peachy!”

“Where have you been?”

Steve clears his throat, “we watched the fireworks from the woods and now I’m gonna take this one home, she’s tired.”

Eddie squints his eyes at him, giving a once over now – the way he has been doing it for some time now, like he is suspicious of his actions, like he wants to figure him out so he can protect you from him and irritates Steve.

“I can take her home,” Eddie shrugs.

“No!” You protest, clinging to Steve’s arm, you hold him tighter not wanting to be pulled away from him.

Steve chuckles softly, he looks down at you adoringly.

“Don’t worry, Eddie. I’ll take her home to sleep, maybe shove some coffee down her throat, see if that helps. I am sensing I’m having a hungover Blondie tomorrow.”

Eddie raises one eyebrow at him, he crosses his arms over his chest, defensively. And Steve notices it from the corner of his eye, causing the smile to leave his face as a frown etches into his features instead.

“I’m not doing anything if that's what you’re fucking thinking, Munson.”

Eddie raises his hands up in surrender, “sorry, can’t blame me for caring.”

That… Stings.

That actually hurts his feelings.

He may not be as close to Eddie as you are to him, but Eddie knows him well enough to know that he would never do anything like this.

“You really think I’m that disgusting?” Steve asks, not bothering to hide the hurt in his voice.

Eddie sighs.

Of course he doesn’t.

He is just protective of his best friend, of her feelings.

Neither of you notice the way you keep looking between them, completely lost and confused.

“I don’t know what kind of deal you both have, Steve, but I’m allowed to care. I would’ve given her the same look if the roles were reversed.”

“She’s not like that,” Steve argues instantly.

Eddie sighs again, uncrossing his arms, he drops them to his side as he takes a look at the sky with a long sigh.

“I know she’s not, I know you’re not. Just… take care of her…”

Steve is still hurt by Eddie’s reaction, by the accusing look in his eyes, like Steve would do anything to hurt you.

He knows that it might only be because you are his best friend, because he feels protective of you, because he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you – but to know that he was worried about you while you were with him makes him feel sick.

Steve would never do anything to hurt someone, let alone you.

“Can we go now?” You ask, looking up at him with big eyes.

A weak smile appears on his face as he looks down at you, “yeah, we can go.”

Steve doesn’t notice the way Eddie’s squinted eyes linger on him, the way he looks down at your hands, watching as Steve pulls you closer despite you being glued to his side already.

He can’t help but sigh when he sees the way you look at him, the dreaminess and the love is so evident and it worries him, your feelings for Steve worry him because he fears that he will break your heart, that he will rip it out of your chest.

Eddie is so focused on his worries, he doesn’t even see the way Steve looks at you.

“I’m gonna call you tomorrow, Eds.”

Eddie smiles at you, “yeah, alright.”

Steve nods at Eddie, only giving him a small smile as he starts pulling you away.

“Bye man,” Steve mumbles as he brushes past him.

“Bye Eddie!”

“Yeah, sleep well, sweets.” Eddie smiles, waving at you.

Walking away from the fairground and leaving behind the crowds of people and your best friend feels like a relief to Steve. He can’t move past the glances the metalhead gave to him, the worried looks he spared you as though you were in some kind of danger with him.

He can’t confront him, he can’t talk to him about it and tell him how wrong he is though, he would give away his feelings and he can’t do that.

You walk beside him quietly, not a single word falls from your lips, you just keep holding his hand, looking up at him every once in a while until you make it to his car.

Steve opens the door for you, begrudgingly letting go of you so you can get inside, he helps you buckle in your seatbelt, a surprised chuckle falls from his lips when you use the opportunity to kiss his cheek and he can’t even help himself but do the same to you, smacking his lips against your cheek to give you a loud smooch, one that makes you giggle.

He can see the tiredness in your eyes, the way you slowly blink and how you sink deeper into the car seat as you yawn.

“Let's get you into bed, honey.”

Steve keeps the music on low during the drive home, you keep dozing off as your head keeps falling to the side but every time you open your eyes again, you look at him and you keep your eyes on him, making him blush beneath your softened gaze.

And then, you make his heart swell and his chest vibrate when you place your hand on his thigh and smile at him sweetly.

Everything about you drives him crazy today.

Every glance, every touch, every word, every kiss.

You have brought something out in him, something that was buried deep inside, hidden and locked away but you have found the key, you unlocked it, you brought something back that he thought was impossible to ever resurface again and you made it yours, you made him yours, all yours.

And now, he wants to give you everything.

He wants to take care of you, he wants to shower you with affection, he wants to be the one for you.

You’re making things complicated but in the most amazing of ways, in the most beautiful of twists that he couldn’t believe would happen again for him. Your small glances are enough to turn a flame in his entire body, your hand on his thigh as he parks at his home enough to send butterflies in his stomach, butterflies that he swore died when Nancy broke his heart.

Your touch is enough to make him tremble and make his knees buckle, when he helps you out of his car, both of you laugh as you almost fall right on your ass, even with his help. He is happy. He is content. He is extremely giddy when he is with you, as if he were fourteen all over again.

Even when you are not like this, when you are not this bubbly uncaring self, he still enjoys his time with you. He enjoys the accidental snorts that make him laugh as you swat him to try to stop him from laughing. The happy delighted moans you give when you try his cooking. The out of nowhere conversations in the mornings that you two now share together.

He likes it when you put on that strong wall, it makes you look cute, it makes him want to break it down. He loves the small banter, the pretend fights when you two are with the whole group, the way you pinch his side when you walk past him when no one is looking. He adores it.

When he finally manages to get you inside, he immediately urges you into the kitchen, making you drink water, not pepsi, despite your pouts and your teary eyes which almost make him become a puddle on the floor. He also gives you a leftover chicken sandwich he had in his fridge so you would eat something to absorb the alcohol.

“Eat at least half of that.” He commands and you just grumble something, cutely so, underneath your breath as you take a bite. He knew you probably didn’t eat anything at the fair, a possible reason for your drunkenness.

“I’ll eat… if you give me a kiss.” And just like that you pucker your lips his way and his heart can barely handle it. He licks his lips before leaning towards you and placing them on yours in a soft peck, a quick one. You smile before taking the first bite, and when you swallow it seems as if it turns on the hunger in your belly because you devour that sandwich in seconds.

He hopes you keep it down your stomach for the whole night and that it helps you feel okay in the morning. He wonders how you will act tomorrow, if you’ll remember all of this, if you’ll remember how much you kissed him, how you made him feel. He should tell you… He should…

But what if it’s the alcohol doing its thing?

“Okay, let’s go to bed.” And doing so turns out to be a challenge because as soon as you finish your food and water, your eyelids start to drop. Getting you off the stool and dragging you upstairs is easy but keeping you sitting up as he tries to change you into his clothes, that is another issue.

“I don’t wanna…” You mumble as you throw yourself back down onto the mattress, chest bare. He would have gotten riled up, if it weren’t for the fact he felt domestic, fluttery, and his chuckles came out easily out of his lips when looking at you.

“You have to, it’s just the shirt, come on.” His voice is soft as he talks to you, making you raise yourself up again, sitting in front of him and raising your arms up for him to slide his shirt on you. As soon as it’s on, you bounce back and get comfortable in his pillow with a contented sigh. He smiles at you as he takes off his shirt and starts unbuckling his belt in order to get comfortable. His own tiredness is starting to take a toll on his body.

He doesn’t notice that you had turned your head to look at him again, and a wolf whistle is heard in the room, making him turn to look at you. You have a cheeky smile on your face and he feels himself blushing slightly as he laughs, taking his pants off next, leaving him in boxers only.

“As if you haven’t seen it before.” He says and it only makes you whistle again as he saunters over with a shake of his head, a smile still plastered on his lips.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t adore it everytime,” you whisper.

And that makes the smile drop, but in shock. Your words went deep, soothing over wounds that had been created long ago, and he doesn’t mean his scars. He has to clear his throat in order to walk towards the bed and get inside right next to you, only for you to immediately crawl on top of him, laying your chin on his chest, looking at him.

It holds so much adoration for some reason, a sparkle that makes Steve’s stomach turn, hope that rose in his throat like vomit, ready to come out, overwhelming him. You are looking at him as if he hung the stars for you, as if he were your only person in the entire world.

And he knows he is looking down at you in the exact same way.

“What now?”

“You’re just so pretty… It’s stupid how pretty you are.” He chuckles, making his chest rumble and for you to bounce up and down with it.

You pout but it’s followed by a smile, “it’s true, you are.”

“I’m not told that very often Blondie.” He honestly replies and that makes you raise your head up and look down at him with determination in your eyes. “Wh–”

He can’t even finish his question because your lips start going crazy on his face, but softly, caring, taking extra time on following the lines of moles he has on his jaw. He is startled, shocked, for no one ever did this to him, not even his own mother. No one ever showered him with affection, with kisses.

And as though that wasn’t sweet and surprising enough, you nuzzle your nose against his, giggling when a big smile appears on his face.

You are cute. You are so fucking cute.

It is an overwhelming feeling, one that almost makes him feel like crying.

Your lips pressed on the tip of his nose as you pulled away, a proud smile on your face, and he wonders what is going through your mind right now. If it it’s all true, fuck, he wants it all to be true. He needs it to be true. He needs and desires that you are doing all of this intentionally to him, despite the alcohol.

“There, now you know.”

You really are beautiful, so beautiful. He feels drunk on you, seeing you, feeling you… his hand rises up, not able to contain himself as it runs through the back of your head and pulls you down to his lips, letting him give you a deep kiss. A kiss that made the fireworks he saw earlier explode inside his room again.

You follow his lips with a hum, and he doesn’t want to pull away. He needs it all. He needs you. Not in the way he has been having you the past month. Not at all, not even close.

He lets you pull away, and his hand caresses your cheek, pulling your head down to rest on his chest again as your legs intertwine with his underneath the sheets. He wonders if you can hear how fast his heart is beating. If it bangs your head from how hard he feels his chest being hit with it.

“Sleep Blondie.” He wishes anything but that, but he needs the silence, the time alone.

“Hmm… night Stevie…” And he knows your eyes are closed, that you mumble that with the last bit of strength you had. His eyes remain on the ceiling as his mind starts working, gears going round and round, going overtime.

He had been running from the definition of the feeling, even if he knew it was there, even if he accepted everything else that came with it. He kept running and running, and now he had hit a wall.

So it’s time to stop and turn around to face you.

Steve Harrington decides to stop running as he looks down at you and his lips press at the top of your head while his arms hold you tighter. You whine in your sleep, yet your cheek nuzzles even more into his chest.

He can’t deny you anymore. Not when you look like this in his arms. Not when you peppered his face with kisses he never received. Not when he saw you in a vulnerable moment of yours. Not when he gets to see you moan in pleasure because of him. Not when he gets to see you have fun with everyone else. Not when you saved his life, going headfirst for him. Not when you already send smiles his way that make his heart stop.

And if you wake up tomorrow with a headache, he will be waiting for you with coffee in hand, an advil, and some food, ready to help you. To take care of you. He will let you lay in his bed all the time you need, all in order to make you feel better.

Because Steve Harrington started feeling again.

He likes you. He terribly and adoringly likes you… and he is afraid because–

It’s nowhere near little. Not at all.

“Can’t believe I fell for you, Blondie.”

♡

tagging friends and mutuals!

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars

#dwoht — chapter fifteen #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington blurb #stranger things angst

723 notes · View notes

bookstattoosandtea · 1 year

Text

Release Blitz, Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway: Fangsgiving by Robert Winter

Release Blitz, Exclusive Excerpt& Giveaway: Fangsgiving By Robert Winter HOLIDAYS SUCK!, Book 2 Over the river and through the woods, to a vampire’s lair we go.… Paul and Taviano approach their first Thanksgiving, happy together but wary. Paul frets he’ll one day die and leave Taviano alone, but the demon that shares Taviano’s body won’t even consider turning Paul into a vampire. On top of that,…

View On WordPress

#Book Love #Christmas #Fangsgiving #Gay Book Review #Gay Romance Authors #Holidays Suck Series #LGBTQ #LGBTQ Books #MM Romance #Ongoing Series #Paranormal #PNR #Robert Winter #Vampire Claus #Vampires

0 notes

aaagustd · 5 months

Text

holi-blaze || jeon jungkook (m)

title: holi-blaze

pairing: dealer!jeon jungkook x (f)reader

genre/rating: f*ckbuddies/unestablished relationship, smut, mature/explicit, 18+

summary: it's your first time spending the holidays together, and jungkook isn't in the mood. but... you think you can change his mind.

warnings: listen…..“that’s OUR man, thank you to OUR man!!!”, swearing, mentions w**d, mentions Christmas/holidays, protected s*x but mentions unprotected s*x, spanking, reader wears lingerie, a** worshipping, back shots, missionary, b*ndage/restraints, f*ngering, teasing/foreplay, a touch of roleplay (Jungkook might have a little crush on Martha May Whovier), back scratching, praise, squ*rting, tongue kissing, make up s*x, Dom/sub themes, n*pple sucking, biting, begging, some aftercare, mistletoe… or not??, idk why i’m smiling but i love them lol

wc: 2.5k

release date: december 30th, 2023; 11:33pm est

note: it’s been about 4 months since i posted. this is embarrassing. anyway, i didn’t edit this bc i didn’t have a computer. this’ll be the last update for this series for a while so i hope this holds you. i have a bigger project i’m working on currently so… i hope to see you in 2024. love you !!

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 version | inbox | join the taglist

“Aye, I’m home! Where are…”

Jungkook finds you standing in his living room when he enters his apartment. He probably expected to find you bundled up on the couch watching a holiday marathon, and that’s exactly what you plan on doing.

That was until you walked in and discovered everything he’s been hiding from you. Now you know why he hasn’t invited you over in two weeks.

All month he’s been complaining about the holidays and pissing on your parade whenever you get excited about the TikTok holiday DIYs. Only for him to decorate his entire living room like it’s a Holiday Cheermeister. He definitely has outdone himself with this surprise. Now, it’s time to return the favor.

His keys fall on the floor, and you can only imagine what’s going through his mind.

“Oh…” He takes a long pause, processing the image before him. “Damn, love.”

You hope that’s a good sign. This is your first time wearing lingerie, and you aren’t even sure if Jungkook is into it.

“Um… Your keys?”

“Come here,” he beckons.

Your marabou heels move across the floor, feathers tickling your oiled skin with each step. Your matching robe—thin and sheer—barely conceals your lack of clothing underneath it. You can feel the fabric dragging behind you as it's carried by a gentle breeze.

Jungkook’s brown eyes never look away as you strut in his direction. When you approach him, you’re nearly swept off your feet by how good he smells.

His finger motions for you to spin and show him the entire outfit.

“Twirl, baby.”

You purposefully take your time and give him the 360 view, letting your robe fall once your back is facing him. You’re starting to feel a bit more confident now that you’ve gotten the big reveal out of the way. Jungkook biting his bottom lip tells you that he likes what he sees so far.

“Sexy. Like Martha May.”

You whisper to yourself as you take a step closer. “Martha May, huh?”

Jungkook nods.

“ Yeah… I’m high key fucking with it, though.”

Now, that’s good to hear because he’s given you an idea.

“Well, thank you… Mr. Grinch.”

Jungkook tilts his head, pretending to be confused. Eventually, he reveals a mischievous grin.

“I’ve been that bad, huh?”

“The worst,” you reply.

You don’t pull away when he reaches for your hand. It’s been almost two weeks since you’ve had any contact. You’re deprived; desperate.

Even if you were still mad at him, your pride is long gone. So, instead of pouncing on him, you allow him to guide you to the bedroom.

“It only gets worse, love.”

Well, damn.

“How much worse?” you quiz, already knowing the answer to the question. He looks over his shoulder as he opens his bedroom door.

“You’re gonna fuck around and find out if you keep playing with me.”

As Jungkook guides you into his room, you try to hold back your smile. You always find thrill in testing his patience. Whatever it takes for him to pound you into his mattress, you’ll try it.

Once inside, he walks over to the bed and sits on his bed. You grip onto his green bomber jacket while he caresses and gently kneads your thighs, making you melt into his hands. You push out your chest, so he can have a better look at the red lace that barely covers your tits.

He can’t stop himself from staring. His mouth waters as the sinful thoughts run through his mind. During his journey all over your body, his hand accidentally touches something you’re clutching in your right hand.

He frowns. “What are those for?”

You hold up the cordless lights that you snatched from your little desk tree at work with a smirk.

“Dunno,” you shrug. “They’re yours. Get creative.”

Jungkook stands up, and you place the cord in his hand. He gestures towards the bed, and tells you to get on it.

“Alright, go,” he orders.

“Okay.”

You climb on the bed, positioning yourself on your hands and knees. He didn’t tell you to lie down, but you figured he’d appreciate seeing your outfit from this angle.

“Like this?”

“Just like that,” he approves.

It isn’t long before you feel the palms of his hands touching your ass. They’re still a little cold, but eventually heat up due to the warmth of your flesh. You know that he could do this for hours, just admiring the way it jiggles and how soft it feels in his hands.

However, tonight he wastes no time giving your pussy attention, the opening in the center of your panties giving him easy access to your slit.

“Fuck.”

His reaction makes you want to turn around and see his reaction, but you’re afraid you might ruin the foreplay and beg him to fuck you now. So, with clenched teeth, you try to suppress your eagerness to have him inside of you; but you’re already close to failing.

“One of these days I’m just gonna say fuck it and raw dog you.”

You lose control of your outbursts when he pushes his thumb into your pussy. You beg him for more, but he just pulls out, leaving you disappointed.

“Jungkook!”

He chuckles. “Alright, alright. Give me your hands, love.”

At Jungkook’s request, you move your hands behind you.

He’s so close that his breath tickles the tiny hair on the back of your neck. Your body shivers as his fingers gently touch your skin, sliding down your arm until he reaches your hands.

When he speaks, the sound of his voice makes you weak. No matter how hard you clench your knees are nothing but jelly, making it nearly impossible to support your weight.

“You still like to be tied up and shit, right?”

Oh unholy fucking night.

“I do.”

“That’s my girl,” he boasts.

Your heart begins to race with excitement when you feel the cord tightening around your wrists. It doesn’t take Jungkook a long time to secure a few knots.

“Is this okay? Not too tight?”

Despite your position once he bends you over again, your body is still relaxed. You know you’re in safe hands. He’s earned your trust when it comes to your body, so you don’t mind if he takes control. You actually enjoy it more than he does.

“No, I’m fine,” you answer. “I’m excited.”

“Hm. I can tell.”

It is then you realize that your thighs are rubbing together, smearing a mess of your sticky juices between them. The sound of Jungkook spreading your legs has you burying your face in his sheets.

“No hiding.”

You lift your head and nod. “Sorry.”

“It’s all good. Do you remember we play?”

“You call the shots. I’m in control.”

Jungkook hums his approval, but before he can ask you anything else.

“...And I remember how to free myself,” you add. “Just in case.”

“You’re so perfect,” he praises.

A bit of pride swells in your chest when he says this. He tells you this almost every day, but it still makes you smile from ear to ear.

The next thing you hear is Jungkook fishing for condoms in his nightstand drawer. Once he finds them, he returns and removes his clothes. You catch a glimpse of his figure behind you, and it’s that image you’ll hold on to when he’s taking you from behind.

When Jungkook spreads your globes, a small moan escapes your lips despite your attempt to bite it back.

“Ready?”

“So, so…ready,” you reply.

You whimper as the tip of his dick probes gently at your entrance. Your body is shaking from the adrenaline pumping through your veins. It feels like it's been months since you’ve felt his thick cock stretching you open.

“I know,” he coos. “Just relax, sweetheart.”

You take a deep breath to calm yourself; and eventually, your muscles relax. Jungkook steals this moment to slowly slide into you.

“Fuck!”

“Gotta fuck you now, love,” Jungkook groans.

He starts fucking you slowly, but fast enough to have an orgasm brewing deep within your core.

You can hear him panting as he digs his nails into your skin. Your shoes drop to the floor because your toes are curling from the pleasure you’re receiving. If Jungkook weren’t gripping your waist, you’d be lying on your belly because you’re trembling too much to keep yourself up.

“You feel like a fucking glove.”

You know he can feel your walls squeezing and hugging his cock, desperately trying to keep him inside. Your moans become louder which each slap Jungkook delivers to your ass. The pain ripples down your globes, traveling straight to your dripping pussy—leaking onto his throbbing dick.

“So deep…”

It’s not long before you’re squirting all over him. He laughs, not caring about his ruined sheets.

“There she goes.”

Jungkook then starts loosening your restraints, leaving you confused. You’re afraid you messed up, but he assures you that’s not the case.

“I need to see you,” he utters.

Jungkook frees your hands and flips you over swiftly, leaving your head spinning. He allows your eyes to focus before he lowers himself and aligns with your entrance once more. You wrap your limbs around him, bringing him closer so you can feel his warm skin pressed against yours.

Your wetness allows him to enter you smoothly. The intrusion isn’t as intense as before, but it leaves you breathless due to your sensitivity.

You accept the kisses he leaves down your neck. He drags his hot tongue across your skin agonizingly slow while he’s buried inside you, not moving an inch until you’re begging him to.

“Baby, please fuck me. I can’t—”

“Just give me a second, love,” he whispers.

Jungkook’s mouth finds your breasts, and he takes his time giving each of them attention. Your back arches off the bed when he wraps his lips around your nipple.

You try to be patient, but your body can’t handle any more teasing. Your hips begin to move on their own, immediately grabbing Jungkook’s attention.

“So eager,” he teases, gripping your hips to stop you.

“Jungkook, I need to cum.”

“Yeah?... Wanna make another mess?”

“Please.”

He pulls out and then with a snap of his hips, he slams into you. He does it again, and again—making you scream his name. You drag your nails down his back, making him hiss from the stinging pain traveling across his skin.

“Do it,” he grunts, fucking you deeper. “Cum.”

“Oh, fuck.”

You stop holding it in, and finally allow the tightened coil to snap. Pleasure ripples through your body, and everything goes silent except for the familiar ringing in your ears. Your eyes roll back and your body stiffens in Jungkook’s arms.

“Fuck! You’re squeezing so tight.”

“I’m cumming!” you scream.

He keeps fucking you, talking you through it until you finally calm down enough to relax your limbs. Jungkook’s soothing voice brings you back to reality.

“Good, baby. That’s good.”

You lie on your back, tears in your eyes as you watch him above you. His body trembles as he tries to hold on, but you know he’s close. You can tell by the way he twitches inside of you.

“This is my shit, understand? My pussy,” he claims. “Okay?”

You nod weakly, still feeling the bliss of your release.

“Yeah, it’s yours. Only yours.”

“And you’re mine too, right?”

He doesn’t even have to ask. Of course, you are.

“Always.”

You pull him closer and kiss his lips, but both of you become greedy for more. His strokes are gentle but you still gasp, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your muffled cries of pleasure start to fill the room as you deepen the kiss.

You’re dizzy by the time he pulls away, unable to focus on anything but the lingering taste of him on your lips. Once again, his voice brings you back.

“Damn it,” he growls.

After two more uncoordinated thrusts, he reaches his peak and spills his warm cum into the condom. Panting and breathless, he falls on top of you, and you start running your fingers through his hair.

You stay in this position for only a few minutes, before he’s climbing out of bed.

“Wait—”

You try to grab his arm, but he grabs his sweats and slips away, leaving a small pout on your face.

“I’ll be right back, love.”

You sigh. “Okay.”

You wait a few minutes before you let your curiosity run wild. You begin to wonder what he’s doing, so you decide to go look for him.

Just as you enter the living room, Jungkook appears from the kitchen with an ice pack and a bottle of water.

“How are you?” he asks, handing you the little blue compress. “It’s for your wrists.”

“I’m okay, you?”

Jungkook nods. “Still seeing stars, but I’ve never felt better.”

Silence follows, but it’s peaceful. You use the moment to take in everything once again.

“Thank you,” you say eventually.

“For?”

“All this!”

You point around the room at all of the decor he must have spent hours putting up. It could honestly have been a little stocking and you still would have appreciated his effort. You know he only did it for you, even though he wasn’t in the mood.

“I was just trying to make it up to you,” he shrugs.

“You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to.”

You smile. “Well, thanks Grinchy. But I didn’t want to force you.”

He promises that he didn’t feel obligated, and you take his word for it. It’s been a challenge but you’ve learned to accept when he offers to do something nice for you. So if it involves spending time with him, you’ll accept every gift he gives you.

Placing the ice pack on the coffee table, you step forward and wrap your arms around him.

“I’m trying, love,” he sighs.

“You’re doing great,” you assure.

“No, I mean… It’s been two weeks, and you’re still wearing that and…”

You realize he’s lowkey asking for round two. All you need is some water and you’ll be good to go.

“I’m on top this time,” you call out over your shoulder. You’re almost halfway across the room when he stops you.

“Hold on…”

You turn around only to find him standing there with his hands in his pockets.

“Hm?”

Jungkook lifts one of his hands and pulls out a tiny sealed bag. It doesn’t take you but a second to figure out what it is. But what leaves you puzzled is the way he’s holding it over his head.

“I don’t know much about this shit but, I think you’re still supposed to kiss me.”

Wow. He can be cute when he wants to. Of course, you return to leave a kiss on his cheek.

“That’s cute, Jungkook. But I think you got it wrong.”

“Oh, yeah?”

This time you grab his hand, and he doesn’t resist when you start dragging him towards the bedroom.

“I think I’m supposed to put my pussy on your face, then you kiss me,” you propose.

“Okay, maybe this holiday shit isn’t so bad.”

Shaking your head, you make your way through the dark hallway until you reach Jungkook’s room.

“Wait until you see the chain I bought you,” you mumble.

“Huh?”

“Nothing, baby. Come on.”

You take him to bed, and his apartment is anything but silent for the rest of the night. This was your first Christmas together; but best believe, a lot of traditions were made.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fics #jungkook fics #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fanfic #aaagustd.fics

1K notes · View notes

aurorawritestoescape · 3 months

Text

BAD BLOOD pt 4

Pairing: step uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller

Tw: +18, mdni, smut, step-cest, dub con (for Tommy), big age gap (reader is 22, Joel and Tommy are in their late and mid-40s), dark!Joel, dark!reader, m/f!oral, mfm, unprotected piv (wrap it up), anal, rough sex, cum eating, degradation kink, praise kink, daddy kink, spanking (light), alcohol consumption, swearing, Tommy can pick up reader.

Summary: you finally get what you want.

Word count: 4.7k

A/n: this is filthy y’all! Enjoy💖 also in the next part it’s gonna go down so stay tuned! As always big thank you and also kisses and hugs to @milla-frenchy for the encouragement and valuable advice!😘❤️

Series Masterlist || MASTERLIST || PART 5

*****

Tommy can’t believe that it’s happening. It feels like a dream. And he’s had so many about you. His sleeping mind was tortured by the images of you on your knees, your mouth open and ready to welcome his throbbing cock, or splayed on the dinner table, legs open and pussy waiting to be stuffed by him. He used to brush them off, feeling embarrassed and guilty the next morning when you’d say ‘hi’ to him in the kitchen. They subsided when you left for another year of college, only to return with a new force after you came back for the holidays.

He used to tell himself that he’d never do anything about it. He’d never do it to Jess, to you. Your youth should be carefree and not burdened by your middle aged stepfather wanting to fuck you.

But this summer it got so much worse. It seemed like you were testing him, his sanity, his loyalty to his wife, your mother. Everything you wore called for his hungry eyes, your every move, laugh, smile made his cock twitch in his pants. He took too many cold showers. It started to get ridiculous. So he decided to give himself a way out. He jerked off to the thought of you almost every day. He pumped his throbbing member in the bathroom after seeing you in a flowy summer dress. The image of you on the grass with your ass in the air, pussy glistening under the bright summer sun pushed him over the edge and after a few moments of ecstasy he felt sick. With himself, with his dick, with his life.

When Joel asked him ‘that’ question whatever wall he had built in his mind fell apart. The way you talked to him that night at the bar made it impossible to deny it. Impossible to stop it from happening. He needed to fuck you.

***

Tommy was mere minutes from his desire becoming reality. You’re on his lap, straddling him, your naked pussy pressed tightly to his bulge.

“Fuck, angel, you have a knock out ass,” Joel comments driving the three of you home through the dark streets and glancing from time to time at the way you’re grinding against your stepdad’s clothed cock.

“Thank you, uncle Joel,” you purr, parting from Tommy’s neck with a pop. A flash of a streetlight eliminates a darkening hickey on his skin that you’ve left for Jess to find.

Your bra and panties are long gone, stuffed into your purse. Tommy’s hands are kneading your ass cheeks and you pull your neckline down before pushing your naked breasts into his face. He immediately takes your nipple in his mouth and starts sucking and licking, his groans sending vibrations against your sensitive skin.

“Oh, daddy,” you whimper and he thrusts his hips into you making you jump on his crotch.

He lifts his face to you and you meet his gaze, so full of affection and need you wonder where and how he’s been hiding all that.

***

When Joel parks the car at the driveway you get off your stepdad and, after fixing your dress, jump out of the car trying not to flash the neighbors with your pussy. The night covers up his company but Tommy still tries to keep his distance out in the street. Yet as soon as you open the door and walk in he grabs you and spins you to face him. His mouth crashes on yours and he devours you like the tastiest fruit he’s ever had.

Joel enters and comes up to you two placing his big hand on your ass. You part from your stepdad and look at the men, your eyes shiny with excitement.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” you offer while your head is spinning with possibilities of what they’re going to do to you.

Joel hums and pouts his lips seemingly chill about your invitation but his bulge is the biggest you’ve seen on him and you know that you’re the reason. You smirk and open your mouth, ready to diss him, but instead a gasp leaves your lips when Tommy bends down, presses his shoulder to your middle and lifts you off your feet. You clutch the shirt on his back scared of falling but he’s holding you tight so you start giggling.

“What the fuck? What are you doing?”

“The bed will wait”, he says and slaps your ass and pussy lips which are fully exposed in this position.

You tilt your head up gawking at Joel with wide eyes but he just chuckles following you two,

“Daddy knows best, angel.”

To your surprise Tommy takes you to the dining room. He carefully lowers you and sets you down on the dining table.

“Lie down for me, babygirl,” he mutters and manhandles you on your back along the surface and then stands between your legs, at the head of the table. You turn your head to the side and see Joel leaning against the wall with a smug smile on his face.

You lift yourself up on your elbows and look at Tommy with an eyebrow raised,

“I think a bed would be more comfortable, daddy.”

He places his big hands on your thighs and rubs them up and down making the ache in your core burn brighter. You open your thighs wider and he looks at your pussy exhaling a soft ‘yeah’.

Then he turns back, grabs a chair and sits down. You see his face between your thighs and feel your pussy clench and gush more.

Tommy pulls you closer to him and you place your feet on his thighs. He takes them in his hands and takes your shoes off one and then the other.

“Always wanted to eat your sweet pussy at this table instead of Jess’s dry turkey,” Tommy says as he puts your bare feet on the table, your knees bent and your pussy perfectly on display for him.

You moan, lowering your head back on the surface as your heart is booming in your ears.

“H-how long have you wanted me, Tommy?” you ask, trying to keep your cool but inwardly screaming with joy at his confession.

“Long enough to know exactly what I wanna do to you,” he mumbles and in the next moment you feel his warm lips on your cold wet pussy. You gasp and look up seeing him push his tongue between your folds and start making out with your cunt. You whimper and turn to Joel who’s still leaning against the wall watching your stepdad feast on your pussy nonchalantly like it’s some half decent cable porn. His eyes are dark and you know his cock wants to come out to play judging by his massive bulge but he waits, not wishing to interrupt you two. ‘Fuck,’ you think, ‘He really wants his brother back in Austin’.

You return your eyes to your stepdad whose curly hair is tickling the insides of your thighs now as his tongue circles around your clit and then slides down finding your dripping hole before he starts fucking his hot muscle into you.

You moan loudly with every thrust, your legs trembling and stomach heaving with an upcoming orgasm. You run your fingers through his hair and he growls against your flesh. The vibrations make you arch your back with pleasure as you tilt your head back whimpering,

“Fuck… daddy.”

Suddenly you hear Joel’s voice, gruff and calm, as he walks to the wet bar,

“Want some whiskey with your pussy, Tommy?”

Tommy smiles against your folds and parts from them for a second to reply, “Nah, she’s fucking juicy. Might need a napkin.”

He looks up at you and winks as you smile back at him biting your lip. Then he dives back and starts gently sucking on your clit. You’re about to unravel when you see Joel coming up to the table with a glass of whiskey in one hand and his cock in the other. You curse through your whimpers seeing his huge member pulsating and throbbing, his dark pink head glistening with smeared pre cum. You know you did it to him and pride blooms in your heart.

“Mind if I play with her mouth, ‘daddy’?” Joel asks, making his voice higher to parody you when he says the last word.

Tommy seems to be lost in the process of eating you out and just hums. Joel takes it as a ‘yes’ and after grabbing your shoulders pulls you closer to the end of the table and to his cock.

“Open wide, tongue out,” he commands after taking a sip of the liquor and placing the glass on the table above your head. You watch his cock bob over your face and your mouth waters.

You do what he’s told you - open your mouth and stick your tongue out.

“Good girl,” Joel praises you while Tommy is making out with your cunt. You buck your hips into his mouth looking for an increase of pace but he’s meticulous and slow in pleasuring you.

Suddenly Joel slaps your cheek with his cock leaving a wet precum spot on your skin.

“Focus, angel,” he says as he rubs the tip against your lips. You chase it with your tongue and reach up but he takes your cheeks between his fingers and squeezes with a groan,

“Suck on my balls first, then I’ll see if you deserve my cock, little slut.”

You glare up at him but your anger subsides when Tommy’s fingers enter your wet hole. You feel the ache of a stretch so it must be two or three digits.

“Give some love to your uncle, babygirl,” Tommy says as he’s watching your cunt suck in his thick fingers.

“Yes, daddy,” you mewl and both men sneer at your obedience.

Joel manhandles your head under his cock and after cupping his sack places it in your open mouth. You lick and suck on his balls which are smooth and warm while Joel is stroking himself lazily. With a free hand he tugs down your neckline and starts playing with your breasts, twisting your nipples, kneading your flesh which adds to your pleasure.

You focus on one of his balls, suck and roll it gently with your tongue. You moan and hear Joel’s voice join you. The sound makes your pussy flutter around Tommy’s fingers and when you switch your attention to the other ball, your stepdad pushes on your soft spot a couple of times and ecstasy overtakes every cell of your body. Your cries are muffled by Joel’s balls lying heavy on your tongue.

“Fuck yeah, sweetheart,” Tommy breathes out as you’re clenching his fingers hard and then lowers his face to lick off your cum.

Joel takes his balls away and leans down watching your face twist with ecstasy.

“Just like that, angel. Good little slut.”

Your eyes lock before he leans lower and kisses you plunging his tongue into your mouth. The taste of whiskey and Joel invades all your senses and you answer his kiss hungrily grasping his shoulders.

You part from your step uncle when you hear Tommy’s voice and see him standing next to Joel now.

“Daddy’s turn, babygirl.”

Joel steps away grabbing his glass and emptying it in one go, his cock hard in his hand.

Tommy helps you to sit up on the edge of the table and lifts you up. You kiss him, wrapping your legs around his waist. He smells and tastes like you.

“Let’s take the slut to bed, Tommy,” Joel rasps and you feel his hand engulf the back of your head.

Tommy’s lips leave you and he looks into your eyes,

“Where do you want us to fuck you, sweetheart?”

“Your bedroom, please,” you purr with an innocent smile. You mean their bedroom on their marital bed and when he hears it, his upper lip twitches. For a second fear grips your heart when you think he’s disgusted with you, reminded of his brutal betrayal of his wife.

But in a flash his lips are caressing yours with vigor. His mouth slides to your neck and he harshly sucks in your skin there making you cry out.

“Fuckin’ dirty girl. Wanna be fucked in your mama’s bed, on her favourite sheets,” he growls into your neck and then heads to the stairs holding you in his arms.

***

When you three get into the master bedroom their hands are immediately all over you and you feel too hazy and drunk on endorphins to know who’s taking off your dress, whose lips are sucking hickies into your neck. Soon Tommy and you are sitting naked on the foot of the bed as you’re straddling him. The nightstand lamps are illuminating your bodies with dim and soft light. He’s kissing you gently as his cock nests between your bodies and you’re slowly grinding your soaked pussy against it.

Suddenly you feel a big hand wrap around the base of your throat and move up to your jaw applying pressure and tilting your head up. You don’t fight it and look up seeing Joel’s face hovering over yours.

“Are you gonna be good for us, baby?” He asks, staring into your eyes.

He doesn’t wait for an answer, but takes your chin between his fingers and opens your mouth. You widen your eyes in confusion until he leans down and spits in your mouth. You moan as the warm liquid slides down your tongue and into your throat and you swallow it. Joel hums approvingly and bends down to kiss you. It’s more gentle than the first time. Joel’s lips muffle your whimper when Tommy takes your breast in his mouth and swirls his tongue around your nipple. You cry out when he nips at the bud and part from Joel.

“Don’t be jealous, daddy,” you whine looking at your stepdad whose fingers are digging into your hips.

Joel sits on the bed next to Tommy, also naked and your eyes dart between the brothers.

They’re both gorgeous - wide shoulders, broad chests, golden skin. Tommy is thinner than Joel and his cock is not as big but their members are longer than anything you’ve taken so far. A little part of you is worried but you’ve wanted it for so long and you’re fully ready to be ruined by them.

“Daddy, uncle, please fuck me,” you plead pouting your lips.

“Her pussy is mine,” Tommy says as his fiery eyes land on Joel and then you.

“I can fuck her ass, no problem. For me. But it can be a big one for her,” he smirks and slaps your ass cheek. “Is your ass ready for uncle Joel’s visit?”

You can’t wait to be fucked so you silently get off Tommy’s lap, kneel on the bed between the men and lay down between them, sticking your ass up in the air.

“I’m not sure. Can you check?” You purr wiggling your butt and you hear Joel groan while Tommy curses.

You rest your cheek on your hand bringing the other to your ass and pull on the flesh showing off your holes to the men.

“Good little whore,” Joel praises you rubbing your ass cheek, “Do you think she’s ever taken it up her ass?”

“For her own good I hope she has, or you’ll rip her apart,” Tommy replies and the brothers laugh as your core tightens from hearing them talk about you as if you’re not in the room.

“Aw, angel, look at your pussy winking at us. Fear turns you on, huh? Good to know…dirty slut.”

You feel him spit on your tight hole and then he pushes the tip of his finger into you. You clench around it with a mewl and he slaps your ass not too hard but enough to leave a mark, “Relax, baby, need to get this ass ready.”

He tries again and inserts his digit up to the top knuckle.

While Joel is opening your asshole up like a Christmas present, Tommy climbs up the bed and rests his back against the headboard. He positions you so you’re between his legs. His cock is in his hand right in front of your face and you don’t hesitate to lift yourself on your elbows and lick a wet stripe along the underside of his length. His soft salty skin makes you salivate and you take his tip in your drooling mouth sucking on it and licking the slit. You moan swallowing his precum while Joel pushes his finger to the last knuckle and begins stretching you for his cock.

“Love the taste, sweetheart?” Tommy mumbles, closing his eyes for a second and bucking his hips up to get deeper into your hot mouth.

You start bobbing your head up and down while your hand is jerking your stepdad’s shaft as your eyes flutter shut with pleasure. Tommy's cock in your mouth feels like it belongs there and you give all of yourself blowing him until he holds your head between his hands stopping you.

“Hey, hey, babygirl, you’ll make me come like that… wanna fill up your pussy.”

You take his cock out of your mouth begrudgingly and rest your head on his inner thigh still gripping his cock.

“If you don’t fuck me soon, daddy, I’ll lick your balls and make you come all over your stomach,” you purr with a naughty smile but cold eyes, getting impatient. Tommy looks up at the ceiling, mumbling curses under his breath.

“Is she ready?” He asks Joel with a shaky voice and you hear his older brother hum as his finger leaves your asshole. You feel looser and miss Joel stuffing your tight ring.

“Get on the side, you two. I ain’t kneeling,” he roars.

Tommy manhandles you on his lap and scoots up to the edge of the bed holding you close. Joel stands behind your back.

“Maybe we can get you a cuck chair, old man?” You giggle getting comfortable straddling Tommy when suddenly Joel grabs your throat and pulls you up on your knees, your back pressed tightly to his chest.

His lips brush the shell of your ear as he hisses leaning down, “I’m about to fuck your ass, stupid slut, getting on my nerves ain’t the best idea.”

“Joel,” Tommy's voice is worried, “she’s kidding.”

To reassure your stepdad you moan and snake your hand around Joel’s neck grabbing his hair and pulling him closer.

“Don’t worry, daddy, uncle Joel and I are just playing.”

Joel growls and pushes you on Tommy’s chest.

“Plug her sloppy hole, brother, then I’ll wreck her ass. Got lube?”

Tommy nods his head at the nightstand.

You hear Joel shuffle stuff around in the drawer and then he jiggles a lube bottle in front of your face.

“Half empty, angel, your mom’s either as dry as her turkey or she loves it up her butt,” he chuckles.

“I fucking hate you,” you grunt through gritted teeth as jealousy burns your insides.

Tommy kisses the corner of your mouth trying to calm you down and then grabs your hip with one hand to guide you while the other holds his weeping cock at your wet hole.

You immediately pierce yourself on his member in one swift move moaning together with him. You feel full to the brim as your folds part for his girth and your walls snugly envelope his hardness.

“Holy fuck, babygirl, you’re tight”, he breathes out.

“My pussy is just for you, Tommy,” you whisper in his ear, tilting your hips and pushing your ass out hoping Joel will get the hint.

The older brother accepts your invitation right away and drops a generous amount of lube on the spot just above your asshole. You flinch feeling the cold liquid slide down to your tight ring and then your pussy stretched around Tommy’s cock.

Joel’s hand grips your shoulder for leverage while his fat lubed up tip presses to your asshole. The nerves churn in your stomach and your nails dig into your stepdad’s shoulders as you breathe deeply trying to calm down and relax your muscles.

Joel pushes the head into you making you half gasp-half moan as he stretches you. It aches just a bit as you’ve been wearing a butt plug in preparation for the night but you furrow your brows and open your mouth acting like an anal virgin for your unaware stepdad. ‘You’re his innocent stepdaughter’ after all.

“Daddy, he’s so big,” you whine, biting your lip and looking into his eyes.

“‘s right, angel,” Joel smirks behind you.

“Wanna stop?” Tommy asks, his voice concerned but you shake your head. No way you want to stop this!

“No, just hold me, please,” you plead and Tommy hugs you tightly, his arms over yours as you nuzzle the crease of his neck.

In this position, resting on your stepdad’s chest, your ass is sticking out perfectly for Joel who pushes his slicked hardness into you slowly while Tommy is rubbing your back whispering ‘good girl’s into your hair.

You mewl when Joel bottoms out with a growl hitting your pussy with his heavy balls.

Being completely full with the brothers’ cocks you whimper loudly when you sit up a little and feel them move inside you.

“Oh fuck, you’re both so big.”

“Move babygirl, you’ll get used to it.”

You hear Tommy’s words and grind your hips back and forth and all three of you moan in unison.

“Fuck, angel. Unclench your ass, you gonna make me cum too soon.” Joel groans and you take a deep breath trying to subside your excitement.

“Please move,” you mewl breathing deeply and they start slowly fucking you.

You’d never tell him but you’re grateful to Joel for going at it at a slow pace as your plug had nothing on the man’s girth and you feel the dull pain of the stretch as he’s pushing his cock in and out.

Tommy notices your pained expression and cups your cheek before giving you a passionate kiss. His cock twitches inside you as he’s thrusting up into your pussy with deep and slow strokes.

“You’re doing so good for us, babygirl,” he whispers as your lips brush. His hand kneads your breast, thumb and forefinger twitch your nipple as the other slithers down to your mound. He finds your hardened clit and starts rubbing it with two fingers.

Joel is panting and huffing behind you fucking your tight ass. He takes a hold of your throat and squeezes getting your attention.

“Imma fuck you hard now, slut. Ready or not.”

Tommy starts objecting but you want nothing more right now than to be ruined by their cocks.

“Yes, uncle Joel…Fuck me... Daddy please… my holes are yours.”

Joel immediately increases the pace at which his hips slap against your ass pushing his member into your asshole.

Tommy whines at your words and braces his hand on the bed before he starts power fucking your dripping cunt.

Your brain completely shuts down as your holes are being wrecked by your step uncle and stepdad. Your nails scratch Tommy’s shoulders as your core tightens, pussy and asshole clench around their fat cocks and your eyes roll back as your orgasm approaches fast.

“I told you this slut wanted it, huh?! Her holes were made for our dicks, brother. Look at her cock dumb face!” You hear Joel’s triumphant speech and see him slap Tommy’s shoulder. “Proud of you brother. You took what you wanted!”

Your stepdad smiles and looks at you with dark eyes. Joel leans over your shoulder, grabs your chin and turns your head to face him.

“You’re our fuck toy now, got it, angel? We gonna fill you up so good your belly will bloat. And we’ll do it again cos it’s all you’re good for… being fucked and suck our dicks and balls,” he growls as they’re pushing their cocks in and out. “Say it, “I’m your fuck toy, uncle” he commands shaking your head.

“I’m your fuck toy, uncle,” you repeat obediently as your eyes well up with tears. You’re moved by the immense pleasure coursing through your veins and your climax hits as you cry and moan squeezing their cocks. Tommy grabs a hold of your shaking body as you squirt and drown his member. Squelching sounds fill the room and the extra wetness sends Tommy over the edge as he shoots his cum deep into your womb.

Joel is still holding your jaw, then he curses and crashes his mouth on yours. His kiss is brutal, dominant and overwhelming, plush lips abusing yours, tongue licking into your mouth.

It takes a few strokes before he begins filling your ass with his warm seed. He parts from you moaning and your heart sings hearing them both omitting the sounds of pleasure because of you.

When they stop moving inside your body, you fall on Tommy’s chest and he holds you through the aftershocks, still buried deep inside your pussy.

Joel pulls his cock out and slaps your ass before plopping across the bed next to Tommy and you.

Tommy kisses your cheek panting and falls on his back next to Joel.

They’re looking up at you, eyes roaming your body, glistening with sweat, and smiling, Tommy with affection and Joel with his usual wolfish grin.

You must look spent and fucked out and your stepdad tells you to lay down. You get on the bed placing your head on the pillow and Tommy goes to the bathroom for a wet towel.

Joel turns on his side bracing his head on his hand, semi hard cock resting on his thigh, and watches you for a few moments before speaking,

“Show me.”

“What?”

“How good we filled your holes”.

You smirk at him and bend your legs pressing the knees to your chest. Joel scoots up closer to you and glides his middle finger against your asshole and up to your entrance and then clit making you flinch at the overstimulation.

“Squeeze it out,” he commands, opening your thighs wider.

Tommy comes back just in time to see your pussy contract and push out his cum and his cock twitches. It slides down to your asshole as Joel’s spend trickles out as well. Joel mixes the liquids with his thumb and then sits up to feed them to you. Tommy gets on the bed and watches you lick Joel’s finger clean off their warm cum.

When you’re done Tommy gently cleans you up with the wet towel while Joel gets up to light a cigarette and then lies down next to you smoking.

Tommy throws the towel away and joins you two. He turns your head and you make out for some time while Joel’s filling the room with smoke. You know Jess is going to be livid and smile internally.

Tommy parts from you and looks into your eyes, “delete the recording, babygirl, you don’t need it. This pussy is mine now”, he whispers against your lips as his hand cups your heated center. “We’ll make it work.”

You swallow loudly and look at Joel who’s watching you two like a hawk. His eyes are cold and intent. He shifts his jaw, then takes a drag of his cigarette and exhales the smoke in your face.

You turn away feeling your eyes sting and look up at the ceiling.

What the fuck are you going to do now?

*****

Thank you for reading!💖

Your comments and reblogs will make me very happy!❤️

Part 5

General tag list: @nervousmumbling @harriedandharassed @bbyanarchist @milla-frenchy @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @stevie75

Series tag list: @koshkaj-blog @survivingandenduring @nana90azevedo @mermaidgirl30 @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @obscurexsorrows @tammythr @ratoonstown @anama-cara @pedge-page @huskyfox5 @ashleyfilm @neverwheremoonchild @stevie75

If you’d like to be tagged for the series or for everything let me know!💕

#pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal characters #dark joel miller #joel miller smut #joel x reader x tommy #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #dark reader #joel miller x female reader x tommy miller #dark joel #tw dubcon #tommy miller smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader x tommy miller #tommy miller x you

718 notes · View notes

vivwritesfics · 2 months

Text

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Twenty One - The Kids Go To School

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

1.5K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Series Masterlist

The Monaco trip went incredibly well. They hung around with other drivers, went out to dinner and such. Y/N got to explore somewhere she had always dreamed of visiting. Daniel took her to do anything she wanted, all to see the smile on her face.

Daniel took the kids to play padel. They played with Lando and Max while Daniel watched on, grin on his face. Before Y/N and Milo had to fly home, she agreed to do something that Olivia had always wanted to do. She took her shopping.

For the rest of the holiday Y/N didn't get to see Monaco Daniel. They had short moments alone, but not enough to really bring him out. But she had a feeling she'd get to see him again.

The end of the week came about far too quickly. Before they knew it, Daniel was kissing Y/N goodbye and giving Milo a hug at the airport in Nice. He'd spent most of their time in Monaco trying to bond with Milo, and it seemed to have worked. "Bye, Daniel," Milo said as he hugged him.

"Bye, Milo," he said and let go of him, standing up straight. Daniel turned his attention to Y/N. "Call me when you land, okay?"

She nodded her head and kissed his cheek. "I will do, Danny," she said. She couldn't stop herself from throwing her arms around him. "I love you."

"I love you too." Daniel couldn't stop himself from kissing her one last time before letting her and Milo go. It was a damn long flight from Monaco back to Australia, and he knew he'd be counting down the hours until he heard from her again.

As soon as he couldn't see them anymore, Daniel headed back to Monaco. He'd left Olivia in Max's care while he dropped them off at the airport.

The minute he got out of the car his fingers itched to call her. But he couldn't, not when they were about to get on their flight back home. Besides, he had to get himself and Olivia to the USA.

***

The week that Daniel and Olivia were in America passed by slowly for Y/N. She worked through it, and could hardly wait until they got back. For Daniel and Olivia it went by quickly. They had something to do every day, filling the time until they returned home.

When they did return home, Y/N was working. As much as she wanted to be there for their arrival, she couldn't. Not when she already had so much work to get on with.

But Daniel was ready for when she finished her shift. He and Olivia unpacked their stuff, had a quick power nap each, and headed over to her place. On the way Daniel picked up flowers. He'd missed her so goddamn much, he couldn't begin to describe it.

"Can we sleep over?" Olivia asked as Daniel parked up outside of the house.

"Sorry, Badger. But Y/N's got work tomorrow, so we can't. But we might get to hang out with Milo tomorrow," he said as he climbed out of the car. Olivia followed him out. She took her fathers hand, holding the flowers with the other. Together they headed up to the house.

As soon as Y/N opened the door and saw him standing there, she threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around him. "I missed you, too," he said with a grin, squeezing her back. As soon as he released her, Daniel kissed her, and the kids let out a series of 'eww's'.

She stepped back, allowing Daniel and Olivia into her home. "From daddy and I," said Olivia as she passed Y/N the flowers.

"Thank you, Livvy," she said and led them through to the kitchen to put them in a vase.

It might have been summer for Daniel, Milo and Olivia, but Y/N still had to work. It sucked and she thought of nothing but them as she sat at her desk. It was clear to her coworkers that she was distracted, but they couldn't do anything about it.

Daniel was happy to look after Milo while she worked. With all the time in the world, there was nothing more he wanted to do. He took them karting, on fun days out to the zoo, to theme parks and more.

With the amount of time Y/N and Daniel were spending together, they might as well have moved in together. But they both knew it was far too early in the relationship for anything like that.

Before any of them knew it the end of summer rapidly approached. Every time somebody brought it up, Milo went all quiet. It was no secret that he was terrified of starting school. Y/N had been so careful as to not upset him when buying school supplies.

But the day was fast approaching, and Y/N had to sit him down at the kitchen table. "Munchkin, you're starting school next week," she said. "How're you feeling?"

Milo shrugged his shoulders as he looked down at his lap. "I don't get why I can't go to the same school as Olivia," he mumbled under his breath.

She let out a quiet sigh. She hated mentioning money to her son and tried to avoid it at all costs. They were poor, but Milo didn't have to know.

"Miley, baby, we can’t afford the school that Olivia goes to. But you can still hang out and play on weekends," she said, reaching over to take his hand.

Reluctantly, Milo nodded his head. For the next week his nights were sleepless. Y/N didn't know why he was so terrified of school; she wanted to do anything she could to fix it.

Just a week later she was walking with him to the classroom of his new school. Milo hadn't gripped her hand that tightly in almost a year.

She held him tight before she left him there. Guilt spread through her as she drove away from the school and headed to work.

For the entire day she had her phone out, waiting for a call from Milo's teachers to come and pick him up. But the call never came.

It wasn't that Milo was getting on with things and making new friends. It was more that he was too afraid to show just how upset he was. He was quiet, sitting at the back of the room with his head down. He hated this.

***

"But daaaddy, I don't want to go to school," Olivia muttered as Daniel drove her.

There had been a small fight between himself and his ex over who would take Olivia for her first day. Daniel only won because it was his week to have her.

"Why can't we just have summer all the time?"

Daniel laughed as he pulled into the car park. "That would be cool, wouldn't it Badger?" He asked, opened hid car door.

He helped Olivia out of the back of the car and grabbed her back pack off the seat for her. Daniel helped her put the backpack on her back and walked her to her classroom. "Be good, okay? I'll come pick you up later," he said and hugged her before she ran off to make new friends.

At the daycare the parents bad gotten used to seeing Daniel. They no longer stared at him, whispered to their partners and pointed. Now they they were starting somewhere new, the stares and the whispers started again. Daniel ignored it as he headed back to his car.

As he drove, he used the hands free in his car to call Y/N. "Hey babe," he said the moment she picked up.

"Hi, Danny," she replied quietly. He realised then that she must have been in her office. "How was Olivia this morning?"

"Oh, you know. Complained about summer not lasting forever and then immediately ran off to make friends," he said as he drove to meet his trainer. "How about Milo? How did he seem when you left him?"

Y/N sucked in a breath. "He... I'm worried about him, Danny. I'll be surprised if he speaks to anyone at all today. I mean, it took him all of daycare to make friends with Olivia."

"If you wanted to transfer him to Olivias school, I'd be happy to pay," he immediately said.

Although he couldn't see it, Y/N shook her head. "Danny, I can't ask you to do that," she said.

"I just want you to know I'd be happy to," he said as he pulled in the gym car park. "I gotta go. Are we still on for dinner later?"

"Of course," she replied. "I love you, Danny."

"I love you too."

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lily-ann-b @cixrosie @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @lightdragonrayne @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x reader smut #daniel ricciardo x you #dr3 #dr3 imagine #dr3 x reader #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine

612 notes · View notes

jiminrings · 4 months

Text

fail-safe

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount: 8k

glimpse: growing up, your brother's best friend always berated you for not having a passion in life outside of loving him from afar. when yoongi leaves everything he's ever known for everything he's ever wanted, trying to move on from him becomes your biggest aspiration.

alternatively, yoongi left when you needed him the most, and comes back home at a time when you love him the least.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]

[ a Lot of angst, eventual fluff, brother's best friend AND single dad au, So Much Yearning, unrequited love (initial), jealousy, self-deprecation, a lot of talk abt passion in an empty n hurtful way that most impassioned youngest children feel (it's a specific feeling idk!!!), eventual redemption in the next parts ]

notes: finally got to writing a new series!!! i'm beyond excited for this + this whole new concept and flow i haven't touched on before <3 i hope u love fail-safe as much as i do :-)

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! | series masterlist

Yoongi buys atleast one scratch ticket a week.

The accessibility of buying one is top-notch considering that all he has to do is cross the street, shoot one look to the cashier, and he can either already go hunch in the corner of the road or in the comfort of his room. The moment his coin takes its first dig and he realizes that he’s won yet again, he’s satisfied enough not to buy another ticket.

He doesn’t want to risk losing the win he’s just gained, the odds of him throwing out money besting his chances in adding to his earnings. He thinks everyone’s a little greedy one way or another, but it’s the righteous part of him that thinks he’s different.

You do think that he is for all the right reasons, your vision only tunneling for him alone. He’s this fixed older figure in your life and you can’t figure out how to shrug him off — he’s this generous leech that sucks all of the rationality from your mind but returns it to you twofold, whether in the form of him saying something unintentionally endearing that it makes your chest hurt, or through him having to lightly smack the back of your head.

Yoongi’s your older brother’s best friend and there’s a novelty tag that comes with him, one that can’t be topped by any material possession to your name. He’s there for you, not in the exact way you want him to be, but nonetheless there. He’s special and unattainable at the same time, the finiteness of his love barely extending to you.

He’s there when you want him to burn the latest songs onto a CD you’ve spent all your allowance in, and he’s there when you get annoyed that he sneaked some of his own recommendations in there. You’re there when you later admit that his suggestions aren’t half-bad, and you also happen to be there when he grins at the praise.

He’s there when Namjoon won’t cough up the last slice of his cutlet, not because he’ll actually give you his, but because he’ll help your brother guard his plate. You’d only have to mope for a solid of three seconds before the two of them give up both of their last slices, and you’re there when Yoongi insists for you to try the sauce in the spirit of going out of your routine.

You don’t need Yoongi every single time but in the event that you do, he hangs back. He contemplates and hesitates and doesn’t give in to every single whim that you have, but he’ll be there. He lingers like the last holiday ornament you don’t want to remove until it’s February, his presence being oddly similar to your favorite festivities.

Yoongi’s the equivalent of a holiday you look forward to with each passing month and day; he comes around to and for you in instances, but never even in your most sincere wishes.

“I buy one scratch ticket a week — three if I’m really feeling lucky. When my palms itch, that’s when I know that I really need to buy them.”

He’s calm and collected even when you’re scrunching your nose up at him in combined worry and disbelief, humming mindlessly as you collect your thoughts. He randomly told you about his lottery routine and you’re still trying to wrap your head around how he blows his money off just easily. Yoongi has the mind to put scrap cardboard under you because sitting on the hot concrete with your uniform on can’t possible be a good idea, but you try to play off your fluster into stubbornness.

He’s just playing with his two ever-present coins (lucky charms as he calls them)— one that’s shiny and minted in the present year, the other being the oldest coin he’s ever had that happens to be older than he is — while you mutter about.

“I don’t know, Yoongs. That might be a gambling problem,” you squint, your side comment being heard clearly as day. “Might be the symptoms for hand, foot, and mouth disease too.”

“What— I do not have a gambling problem! My skin’s perfectly fine too, thanks,” he defends, the light shove he gives you doing nothing to tone down your teasing.

“That’s what people with gambling problems say.”

“Give me that-…” he mutters, trying to wrestle you for the sundae he bought you using the money he won from his scratch ticket just awhile ago. You don’t give in easily, even if your laughs that come straight from your chest suggest otherwise. “You don’t get it. It’s just this nice, fun little thing I can look forward to every week. I always buy the cheapest version anyway so when I lose, it’s not a big deal.”

You relent (like you always do when it comes to Yoongi) in understanding, waving him off after regaining your breath. “Nah. I get it. We all have to do things so we wouldn’t lose our shit,” you trail, racking your head to find the right words.“Yours is buying scratch tickets, and mine is-…”

“Yours is what?” Yoongi raises an eyebrow, lips quirked in eagerness to know where you’re going with this. He can’t pinpoint a single thing he can attach to you and neither can you, your actual interests merely reflecting those of the people whom you love.

You love cross-stitching because your mom loves doing it, the tolerance you have for accidentally being pricked by the needle growing over time.

You enjoy playing badminton because Namjoon’s obsessed with the sport, no matter how ratty your rackets and shuttlecocks have become, and no matter how much he pushes you to ring the doorbell to your neighbor’s when he’s sent it flying to their backyard.

You’re probably an imposter yet you don’t feel like it. You don’t feel bad that your life most probably and will only revolve around your mom and Namjoon (maybe even Yoongi); you don’t feel dissatisfied that your life’s mundane.

You go where your love goes.

“Mine is watching you buy scratch tickets,” you shrug easily as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, making him laugh heartily. You’ve probably done something right because he hauls you up to your feet immediately.

“Get up. I’m buying you your first ticket,” he nudges you, grabbing you by the arm in excitement.

“But I’m not even legal!” you half-heartedly argue, internally excited that you’re finally getting to try your hand at the lottery because you’ve spent a few hundred minutes of your life tuned to the channel to pass the time, awaiting the results for something you haven’t even betted for.

“Right. Like I haven’t seen you trying to squeeze out a drop of beer from our empty cans whenever Namjoon and I drink.”

“Rude,” you roll your eyes playfully, gathering your things from the ground.

“It’s okay. I’ll give you your first sip of beer too if you want,” Yoongi offers sincerely; easily as if you’ve just asked him about the weather.

He’s here to buy you your first scratch ticket, and he’s still here to offer giving you your first sip of liquor in the future.

Your family friend for a cashier vehemently ignores the fact that you’re still underage to participate in the lottery, and instead only chuckles to herself in amusement. She’s an aunt that knows when to step in and not to, and she knows you won’t be harmed by a mere bet. In fact, she knows you won’t be harmed by anything with Yoongi in tow.

“I already used up all my change,” your frown in realization, holding the ticket in your hands in despair despite having scoured your wallet repeatedly.

“Rub it against the pavement. That’s what I do,” Yoongi lies fluidly, a scoff being caught in his throat when you actually attempt to do it. “I was only kidding, Y/N. Jeez,” he groans, pulling out his wallet. “Ugh. Here. You can have one of my lucky coins.”

It’s the old one, tarnished beyond relief that you can barely recognize what it’s actual value is supposed to be.

“Ew. I’m giving it back. It looks prehistoric,” you narrow your eyes, knowing that you don’t even have to put your fingers nears your nose to know that it’s already left a faint stench on them.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, a habit he can’t tell he’s formed himself or got from you. “If you use your brain for one second, you’d realize that it’s actually worth more because it’s older. Collectors would go crazy for that in the future.”

“That sounds like a hoarding problem.”

He’s just had about enough of your whining so he attempts to trade in the old coin for his lucky new one, but you stop him at the last minute with a meek smile.

“Kidding. Thank you. I’ll keep it safe, Yoongi. I promise,” you rush out before he changes his mind, scratching your ticket in silence.

He waits for you because you’re scratching so politely and neatly, a stark opposite to his experienced skill of scratching the paint off in ten strokes or less.

Your face is too close to the ticket that Yoongi can’t tell what’s happening, making him part your hair like a curtain to peek.

“Did you win?”

“Nope.”

“Let me throw that out for you.”

“No!” you squeak, keeping the ticket close to your chest. It’s a bummer that your first time is a loss, but it didn’t mean that you wanted to forget the sentiment behind it. “I-I mean no, I’ll keep it. It’s memorable now that I think about it.”

“Alright,” he shrugs carelessly, a smile breaking out in retaliation. “Hoarder.”

“Gambler,” you spit, tucking the ticket into your pencil case. “Next week again?”

Yoongi agrees, wrapping his head around the fact that he doesn’t have to be alone in his little routine every Friday.

“Sure.”

( ♡ )

You don’t mind getting hand-me-downs.

As a matter of fact, you love receiving them. The wear and tear of the things that came before you is only proof that it’s been loved enough to be passed on to you.

You adore your mother’s dainty vintage watch that she wore throughout college, the hardware and sentiment behind it being pretty enough that you don’t mind constantly getting the battery replaced. You like Namjoon’s shirts that he’s outgrown, even through the numerous phases he’s had wherein only denim and tie-dye filled his closet.

You don’t mind the history behind the numerous things you have in your home, unbothered that you’re probably the only house in the block with the oldest possible rice cooker. The chips in the staircase aren’t covered up with marker ink and neither are the loose stitches in the couch quilt snipped off. It’s home to your mother and Namjoon — if it’s good enough for them, then it’s already the best for you.

Even on top of everything, you don’t mind your family almost always getting you shirts and shoes that have an allowance in them. Your mom would go to Seoul and pick out the exact pair of sneakers you wanted that are atleast three sizes bigger than your actual feet, and you’d barely bat an eye.

You don’t mind the coziness of things that are brought to you, because even if they weren’t offered, you’d seek them yourself.

So when Yoongi mentioned that he’s decluttering his room and needed someone (read: you) to vacuum it up for him, you jump at the chance. You take a grocery bag with you, wear the nearest pair of slippers within your vicinity, and book it to his house as soon as he finished talking.

“Go crazy, kid. Almost everything in that pile is garbage so you can take anything.”

“I feel like I should be more offended than how I feel right now,” you hum, furrowing your eyebrows at the pile in front of you. It’s a mound of Yoongi, or atleast everything he’s ever wanted up until he decided to do a general cleaning of his bedroom.

Yoongi chuckles, going through his pile of clean laundry for him to fold on the side while you scavenge for his things. “It’s either I have you take them or I get ripped off at the thrift store, then I see somebody’s uncle wearing my shirt as an added insult.”

You huff, rummaging through his heap of belongings while conveniently trying to ignore that you may look like somebody’s uncle the moment you wear his clothes. Everything is him; every distressed cap, every unfinished embroidered shirt, and every item of old significance with his initials branded on it.

The thick gray hoodie you’ve been eyeing (along with its owner) for the better part of the last few years surfaces into your field of vision, your gasp audible enough to make him jolt because he thought you’d gotten hurt.

“No way, this too? But this is your favorite,” you half-complain and half-rejoice, turning the hoodie inside-out eagerly in the fear that there’s a catch to it belonging in the pile.

“Eh. I know it looked good on me but I don’t think it’s my favorite. Besides, I’ve bulked up! Wanna feel?” Yoongi grins, his segue eerily similar to your brother’s at every given chance. A neighbor from down the block recently opened a small-time gym, and the both of them have not been able to shut their mouths about it since. From their gossiping alone, Yoongi and Namjoon have generated enough advertising already.

“You and Namjoon really have to stop asking random people to feel your biceps.”

There’s random knick-knacks throughout the clump in the middle of his bed, some being too good and actually useful that you snag them. Yoongi lets you do what you want anyways (most of the time), not having to turn his head to berate you on what you’re only allowed to grab from his stuff.

You’re not greedy — you already have his hoodie and that should be enough on its own. But there’s that handkerchief with his initials embroidered on it, then that Rubik’s cube he swore his relative got for him from New York, and even the little butterfly knife he got from a souvenir shop when his family when to the beach.

There were those and there is this, looking up at you in all of its glory.

“Yoongi.”

“What now?” he sighs at your dramatic gasp, looking up from his folded laundry to see what you were going on about. It takes a second for him to fully realize why exactly were you so pumped.

“Are you serious? Your helmet?” you squeal, already hugging the shiny red mass close to you. “Does this mean you’re passing your motorcycle to me?!”

“Are you crazy? Fuck no,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, snatching his helmet back from you. He doesn’t miss the bratty frown that fills up your entire face; he’s not exactly the biggest fan whenever you were upset or angry; maybe even both. “Obviously I forgot I even put my helmet there when I made that pile.”

You whine, stomping your feet in exasperation. You would dramatically plop down on his bed if only it wasn’t full of his shit. “Come on! You told me you were teaching me as soon as you finish teaching Joon.”

“Teaching you how to ride my scooter is not the same as giving you it. Why would I just hand you what I bought with my hard-earned money?” Yoongi scrunches his nose, tone sharper than what he intended.

“But you still haven’t taught me,” you murmur to placate yourself and dissuade yourself from the delusion that Yoongi would even exert such an effort for you because of course — why would he do that for you?

You have an inkling that you’re being irrational for all the wrong reasons, perhaps even projecting your need to be looked after… by him.

Yoongi notices your mood that turned sour quickly, the silence between you becoming loaded. He didn’t mean to be that blunt. “I don’t think you’re even old enough to have your driving permit,” he adds in consolation, voice considerably softer.

You snicker lowly, still looking at your feet with your arms crossed. “But I’m old enough to backpack whenever you need me to carry shit that can’t fit in your carrier.”

He immediately groans at your comeback, his furrowed eyebrows mirroring yours. “You’re so stubborn.”

“You’re a hypocrite,” you retort, knowing for a fact he’s known how to drive even before he was eligible for permits and licenses and whatnot.

Yoongi takes one, two seconds to himself to regain his composure, clearing his head in the process. You’re still not looking at him and you’re pouting and you don’t even notice the latter, making him crack a small smile.

“I will teach you next week.”

“Oh my-…”

He cuts you off, raising his hand in emphasis. “Provided that you listen to everything I say and wear full gear at all times. You clearly don’t have a job yet-…”

“Ouch.”

“And I don’t have the extra money to buy full gear for myself, so what you’ll do is bundle up with your padded coat and the thickest jeans you have,” Yoongi enunciates every word, eyes keenly on you. They’re too wide and alert, you actually feel like listening to him.

“You go on rides wearing your pajamas.”

“Just say ‘thank you, Yoongi’.”

“You haven’t done anything yet,” you trail off, head tilting in confusion.

You’ve had a million conversations like this with Yoongi before but of different fonts; worn, familiar, and warm.

“Thank you, Yoongi,” he mouths, nodding at you to do the same. He won’t stop until you utter them back to him, and you know you won’t go home either without giving him your gratitude as you always do.

“Thank you, Yoongi,” you relent, the grin that breaks through your lips being infectious enough that he laughs lowly to himself.

He exhales all the worries he has and could possibly ever have seeing you ride the motorcycle (or for you yearning to do everything that he does), grasping at whatever sanity he has left from looking after you.

“You can have the helmet.”

( ♡ )

Yoongi knows the ins and outs of your home.

He’s been at your house too much to the point that your mom already gave him a spare key and nobody batted an eye about it. He has his own designated slippers at the entryway too, something you would only use in a hurry if you needed to sign off on a package.

Yoongi, for some reason unfathomable (not really; you can tell exactly why because your mom is an extremely warm and inviting person), also has the power of dibs on the food in your fridge. He’d put strips of masking tape with his name on food that’s neither brought in nor made for him in the first place.

It should be off-putting — the way that for too many yet too little reason, Yoongi has become a prominent figure in your life even if you didn’t ask him to. You should be peeved that you have to set up four plates more often that you set up only three; you should be annoyed at some point that when you wake up at random times through the night, you’re not totally alone to begin with.

You shouldbe angry at Yoongi to a degree because he’s in your life and you don’t get to have a say on how he stays in it. The only problem is that you’re not, and probably never will.

“Can’t sleep?” you mutter as you look up from your strikingly clear paper, seeing Yoongi strut across the floor with a casualness that only real occupants of the house should supposedly possess. He has his brows furrowed at you as if he didn’t expect to see you in your living room, scratching his head in wonder.

“Why are you up?”

“Stressed,” you sigh, giving up altogether in attempting to make yourself look busy. Yoongi drives by your fridge to get himself a can of beer, finally seating himself beside you on the floor.

“Stressed about what? I’m sure it’s not about studying,” he snorts, unsurprised at your paper and the clear lack of motivation behind it. You only roll your eyes at him and he has half a mind to not remind you to not do it so much, the frown in your face reminding him that you really were frustrated.

It is you to throw the occasional tantrum, but he remembers that it was only when you were young; when Namjoon would whisper gibberish to his ear and purposely not whisper to yours just so he could tease you, or when nobody would believe that you taught yourself how to ride a bike with no training wheels. You didn’t know how to do the latter at all, but what had made you throw a tantrum was that nobody believed you.

You notice Yoongi’s digs, of course. You notice each one of his more than unsubtle nods to your intelligence and whatnot, the shots at your intellect not flying over your head like he expected them to. You admit that you’ve never been that scholastic; you weren’t born a genius and you don’t try exactly hard either.

Yoongi’s only joking but you can’t help but to think that he’s pertaining to something deeper, his constant digs at your lack of a passion making you sluggish.

“We have to write this essay,” you answer simply, your tone straightforward and unwilling for banter but Yoongi bites anyway.

“But essays are the easiest,” he trails, looking at you the whole time as he takes a sip of his beer.

You exhale heavily because no matter what, he just can’t seem to get it. Yoongi knows where you’re coming from but he doesn’t know where you’re headed. As a matter of fact, you don’t know where you’re headed either. “We have to write an essay about where we see ourselves ten years from now.”

“But that’s still easy.”

“If it’s so easy, then go write it for me,” you snicker, leaning back with a huff. He constantly undermines you and although you own up to your striking mundaneness from time to time, it didn’t mean that you liked being looked down on. Yoongi’s too used to you being yourself, he gets taken aback when you grow sick of your own.

He gathers all his willpower, far from being sleepy unlike you who would’ve been lulled to sleep if only you weren’t dead-set on arguing with him. “You know what? I actually will,” he claps, handing you his beer. “Go hold this for me.”

Yoongi grips your pen for dear life like you hold his beer, his hand warm as he works from sheer determination alone (he’s not competing with anyone except for whatever expectation you have for him and your paper), while yours was cold just holding his drink.

You’ve been so quiet that he actually gets curious, turning his head to check to see if you’ve dozed off when actually, it’s just you eyeing the can.

“No one’s watching,” Yoongi breaks you out of your thoughts, carelessly shrugging. He cares and he’s far too concerned for you, but he figures that nothing would hurt you so long as he can grasp you. “It’s okay. You can have your first sip.”

You blink owlishly at him and when he jokes about taking it back, you take your first swig of beer in a panic. Yoongi only shakes his head in amusement, pausing his writing just to see the look on your face.

“One more?” he asks right after he sees you wince, the unbearable sweetness yet bitter, stinging aftertaste of the beer making you shudder.

You have the urge to wash off the taste with ice cold water (you’ll even drink from the tap because you’re so desperate), but you resist it just so you wouldn’t look like a weakling in front of him. You wave him off with a bitterness, upset that beer doesn’t taste like what you’ve always imagined it to be. “Just write my essay for me,” you mull over the taste in your tongue, in deep thought while you stare at Yoongi’s back ahead of you. “Do all beers taste that way?”

“Eh. Most of them do. You develop a taste for it later on,” he answers, taking the can back from you before drinking it himself. He looks too dedicated in writing your essay, only goading the curiosity in you to peek over his shoulder.

He knows you, both in heart and memory, because he shields your own paper from you when he sees your shadow hovering above him.

“Yoongi?”

“Hm.”

“I told you why I’m up. Why are you up?”

He’s silent entirely, the only indication that he heard your question being his hand pausing abruptly. Yoongi doesn’t answer, and you don’t ask again. “Don’t worry about it.”

You take his answer to heart, dozing off on the couch before you know it. You don’t remember a blanket being placed on you, nor can you remember preparing your backpack for school the next day.

Your paper’s neatly tucked into your portfolio bearing handwriting that’s clearly not yours, but with a sentiment that’s similar nonetheless. You read through everything quickly before even stepping towards your teacher, the tips of your fingers just as cold as Yoongi’s beer last night.

You’ve committed the paper into your memory, even until the last part with an excerpt you can’t forget despite having passed the paper already. You don’t know what to feel because it’s Yoongi who’s speaking for you, detailing that ten years from now, you will still be your mother’s daughter and your brother’s sister.

He wrote your essay either for you or in behalf of you, and you can’t tell which one is better.

Yoongi, who knows the ins and outs of your home and the peaks and troughs of your heart, writes in clear handwriting — Ten years from now, I will still be Yoongi’s rock.

( ♡ )

Surprisingly, Yoongi hasn’t been around that much lately.

Even Namjoon (who you consider as his Siamese twin) is clueless to why his friend hasn’t been hanging out with him lately to do either everything or nothing, confused because they’re enrolled to the same classes all the way to the same part-time jobs, yet Yoongi’s been mostly unavailable.

When Yoongi is, however, he doesn’t speak at all about his previous absences. He comes as if he’s never disappeared a few times before that, his evasion to talk about his presence being apparent even if you’ve asked him directly.

You’re getting used to his new routine of hanging out with you only when the both of you are free, no longer moving mountains for both of your schedules to line up. He’s more present this month than he was at the last, the criteria for it being how many times you bump into him in your own home.

Despite all odds and evens though, Yoongi can’t get used to your silence. He knows you hold grudges longer than your brother, and the last time that he checked, he knows you’ve already let go of your annoyance for him suddenly being unavailable without any explanation.

It’s late, only the two of you are awake in the living room, there’s ten scratch tickets on the table for you to share, and he’s even gotten you your own glass to which he’ll put a controlled amount (a grand total of two long sips) of his own beer in. You’re not stressing about an essay this time, but the unconscious pout on your face is still the same.

“You’re awfully quiet.”

The frown on your face only goes deeper at being found out, the scratch of your lucky coin being the only clear thing that Yoongi hears.

“My best friends want to have this slumber party,” you sigh, more upset about what you’ve just uttered than you are happy about the cash prize you’ve just won.

Yoongi takes what you say at face-value, groaning at his third straight loss for the night. “That’s great. Wear cute pajamas, snap a couple of polaroids, don’t be the first to fall asleep and last to wake up, and just keep a pocket knife with you when you’re going out by yourself.”

The awe (and slight concern) over what he said should roll in any time now.

You should be comforted at Yoongi’s words because they’re supposed to ease the swirl of your stomach, even if what he just said is a repackaged version of what your family said before. You should let go of your worries because Yoongi, of all people, says that it’s supposed to be great.

Instead, you feel neither of what you think Yoongi wants you to.

“Was it something I said?” he mumbles after some time, turning his nose up at you as he tries to retrace his words. “I have an extra pocket knife you can borrow if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“We’re gonna be talking about boys, Yoongi,” you screw your eyes shut, sighing into the palms of your hands with a heaviness. “We’re gonna talk about crushes and experiences and all that.”

He shudders at that, his reaction mirroring Namjoon’s when you tried opening up to him. You get your brother’s reaction to a degree, of course, because you feel as if you’d be disgusted too if the roles were reversed. You want to talk about it with your mom too, but at the end of the day, she’s your parent and you just can’t talk about anything and everything with her.

Yoongi’s your next plausible option.

“Do you want some ice cream right now? You know what, I’ll buy you-…” Yoongi tries to evade the topic altogether, his attempt of escaping feeble as you drag him down by his hoodie.

“I haven’t had my first kiss yet.”

“Heh.”

Yoongi shrugs at that, regaining his words when you deadpan at him. “So? What about it?”

You starfish on the floor at that out of frustration, the whine you’ve been bottling up coming out in the open because as usual, Yoongi doesn’t get it. “I-I’m probably the only one in my grade who hasn’t kissed someone yet! I can’t just lie carelessly because obviously, they’ll ask around.”

“So?” Yoongi chuckles, his breeze towards your state shocking you. “What’s it to them if you haven’t had your first kiss?”

“You don’t get it,” you grit through your teeth, crossing your arms so hard that it feels hard to inhale.

“I’m pretty sure I do,” he sing-songs, drinking the last of his beer. When you’re not looking though, he plans to either drink or chuck the remainder of your share because he doesn’t want you to develop a taste for it.

The anger you have for Yoongi bubbles up once again, the itch in your throat unbearable. You’re presented with the age gap between you once more, along with the raging emptiness in you that Yoongi’s reached so far and you’ve reached so little.

“You don’t get it because you’ve had all of these experiences when you were younger than my age right now,” you snap, although you don’t look at him when you do. If you do look at him though, you’ll only be reminded of how a face like his could have everything in this world — even a first kiss you’ve never had.

“Yeah, and so?” he knits his brows, growing defensive. You weren’t lying at all, but he still feels a little offended at the dig. He’s not not proud of it, but with the way you say it, it’s like you want him to burn in shame,

“Stop saying so,” you angrily mumble in frustration, a little breathless because you still don’t ease up on crossing your arms.

Yoongi straightens his posture, staring you down with his jaw set. He’s stern as he is, nostrils flaring in irritation. “No, Y/N. I’m genuinely asking — so what? What’s it to you if I had my first kiss at a younger age? What about it if everyone else in your grade has kissed someone and you haven’t? It’s not the end of the world.”

“I-I don’t know! It’s just unfair!” you let up, yielding to both the facts that Yoongi’s right with it not being the end of the world, and that you’re still entitled to feeling upset.

“Instead of spending time obsessing over your first kiss, maybe I don’t know, try being productive? You’re heading to college soon and you haven’t even thought of a career,” Yoongi goes off on you, making you roll your eyes automatically. There he goes again with the great big push of trying to push you into your supposed passions in life. “Someone else’s luck doesn’t mean it’s already your misfortune.”

“But it is.”

You say it so definitively, you almost convince him. You have your principles and so does Yoongi, but not everyone else. You have your principles yet you don’t have the luck. You’re not getting anywhere in life just like Yoongi or anyone else who was remotely born into wealth, no matter how quiet or obvious.

You can’t pursue something that interests you in the slightest without thinking what would come out of it. You can’t think of a degree and a course you’ll stick with, enough to do for the rest of your life because the only other option is to fail completely if you don’t. You have no plan and no passion and you don’t know if you’ll ever amount to anything to anyone at all.

By all means, you don’t agree with Yoongi this time. Someone else’s luck is your misfortune, in the same way that his first kiss doesn’t mean that it’s yours.

The sidetrack to your argument is a closed case already, judging by your downcast gaze. “I just have to put myself out there, that’s all. My first kiss doesn’t even have to mean anything. I just want to have it,” you admit, shoulders relaxing.

“Don’t,” Yoongi groans, the opposite of you as his whole body tenses.

He thinks that you don’t get him at all.

“What do you meandon’t?”

Your argument’s long-over (atleast you thought it was) but Yoongi’s getting more agitated by the minute, the disbelief on his face throwing you off. “Don’t do things just because you feel like you have to! Are you even hearing yourself right now?”

“I don’t want to be left behind, Yoongi! That’s all I’m trying to get at,” you raise your hands in surrender, shrugging thoughtlessly — it makes him want yell into a paper bag in exasperation. “I don’t want to be picked last. I don’t want to not be wanted.”

Yoongi exhales, screwing his eyes shut. It stays silent like that for a little while; him calming himself down, and you scratching your tickets. The calm doesn’t stay for long because you open your mouth carelessly, again.

“Can you be my first kiss?”

“Are you insane?”

“Ugh.”

You go back to your fourth scratch ticket, pouting in disappointment. You’re unfazed about the win that’s probably the largest sum you’ve had ever since you started doing the lottery.

You’re upset and you’re sick in the stomach but you stay silent like you never asked Yoongi to be your first kiss; it’s like you haven’t indirectly admitted to him that you love him enough, more than so, to want him to be your first.

You’re about to scratch the final ticket when Yoongi juts his hand out, fingers barely brushing yours to stop you.

“On second thought, don’t scratch that. Just keep it.”

“Because you want to turn me into a hoarder too?” you snicker, heeding his suggestion regardless.

“Because I’m not going to be right about everything,” Yoongi mumbles, looking at you with a solemnness you can’t decipher.

You try until the solemnness turns into pity.

“Still don’t want to be my first kiss?”

Yoongi softly laughs to your face, smiling as he lets you down — whether easily or harshly, you can’t tell.

“You already know what I’m going to say.”

( ♡ )

You’d like to think that you’re not kept in the dark about most things.

You already know that although your mom hasn’t had any relationships since your dad left, she still has plenty of suitors. Some of them are the reason why you have random food deliveries in the middle of the dinner that she’s already cooked, some have sucked up to her by getting you and Namjoon gifts.

You know about Namjoon’s growing love for football, even with the lessons he takes in secret because he didn’t want to trouble your mom for the money. It’s why he does his part-time job and why you’re looking for one anyways. You don’t want nor need much, so you almost always give him the remainder of your allowance by the end of each week.

Yoongi, on the other hand, you don’t know much about. You know that he’s an only child with a doting mom who works overseas and a rich but emotionally unavailable dad at home, and that’s about it. His home life is synonymous with yours, considering that your four walls have become an extension of his.

Maybe you’ve become too lenient on him — either that, or he’s become too disrespectful. It’s at times like these where your house is not his home, sickeningly so that you don’t want it to be yours either.

Yoongi is a sight to behold as he makes out with a half-naked girl on your bed, in your room. Your room has never been the neatest but with everything going on, it feels that it’s become the dirtiest that it’s ever been. Your house slippers are on the floor even if you always leave them by the entryway, and your sheets are a mess despite being one of the only things you try to keep folded in the room.

You’re angry, too much to the point that the words get caught in your throat. They catch onto bile and venom and everything at once, the strain in your voice heard when you yell.

“What the fuck?!”

Yoongi and the girl, whom you figure out to be Hyewon that he’s shared his first kiss with, jolt in unison. Hyewon’s scared shitless while Yoongi’s annoyed to death, the grunt he lets out pricking your ears further. “Sorry, sorry. She’s my best friend’s sister. She’s so annoying,” he drags you out of your room before he even gives you the entitlement to storm out of there in a fit of rage, seeing red the longer that he seems upset at you.

“What the fuck was that, Yoongi?” you grit through your teeth, the moment of you seeing red turn into white because you’re so frustrated that you could actually cry. Your chest’s heavy, not only out of rage, but out of everything that’s built up in the course of years.

“Can you keep it down?” Yoongi seethes, pursing his lips. “What, would you rather see us do it in the living room?”

“In the — what? Who do you think you are? This isn’t even your house, why are you bringing these girls here?” you point an accusing finger at him yet he doesn’t back away, his annoyance for you only growing tenfold.

He’s in the wrong no matter which way you look at it yet he doesn’t realize it, the epiphany that Yoongi genuinely thinks he’s in the right for doing this to you making your skin burn in fire.

“This is literally the first time I’ve ever done this! I can’t bring her back to my place, my dad has guests over!”

“So your smartest idea is to fuck someone in my bed?”

“Oh, you’re welcome. It’s the most action your four walls have ever seen,” he spits sarcastically, eyes narrowing at you. It takes little effort for him to dig up what you came to him for in worry and it terrifies you. The facet of Yoongi who had sternly told you that it was okay to be left behind if it means getting what you deserve, resembling nothing like him at the moment.

“I can’t believe you!” you whisper as you tremble, the tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. “I told you that in confidence.”

“In confidence? It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you’re not exactly a catch, Y/N.”

You clench your jaw so hard that it hurts, you ball your fists so tightly that it stings.

You leave your home without saying another word.

Namjoon’s panicked.

He came home a little later than usual because he had maximized the life out of his soccer lessons, only getting the signal to leave when the lights were turned off. He was only slightly worried at the first place because he was supposed to cook dinner for the both of you, but he placated himself by realizing that you’re not the baby that he still thinks you are — you could cook dinner for yourself if you were hungry already.

He thinks nothing of it. In fact, he just makes a quick stop at the convenience store so the both of you could indulge in a liter of ice cream without your mom urging to leave some for another night. You could think of a recipe from scratch (and it almost always works out at the end), so Namjoon walked in fully thinking he’ll get to sniff whatever concoction you have.

Except, he walks into a completely dark house, and that’s when he panics.

He can’t find your slippers by the entryway and you’re not in your room either. You’re not at the other convenience store hunched over taking your chances on scratch tickets, and you’re not out on the street either going people-watching.

The panic rises in him the more that Namjoon grasps this is the first time that this has ever happened and he doesn’t know why. He’s always made an effort to be absorbed into both your personal and academic affairs, and as far as he knows, you’re neither in a sleepover nor on a field trip somewhere.

Namjoon thinks it’s his fault someway somehow, and the guilt can’t fully dissipate from him until he sees you.

“Hey, Yoongi,” he breathlessly gasps the moment his friend answers, the latter being surprised because he thought it was you who was calling him after what happened awhile ago.

It’s his fault and he’s realized that hours too late, and the selfish part of him thinks that it’s you calling at ten in the evening begging for forgiveness.

“What’s up, man? It’s late,” he wonders out loud, thinking for a second if they were too much of the Siamese twins that you tease them to be because he can’t think of a rational reason why Namjoon would call him at this time of night.

Namjoon raggedly exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’m just wondering if you’ve seen Y/N by any chance?”

Yoongi’s heart drops so loudly that Namjoon thought for second that his friend had hung up on him, his urgency being shared the moment that he asked.

“What? Y/N isn’t home?” Yoongi asks in disbelief, immediately being filled with anxiety and disbelief. Just awhile ago, the two of you were arguing outside of your room. He did hear you leave, but he had fully expected for you to be back hours ago. He’s wracked with guilt all over, the drop in his chest amplified by the pit in his stomach.

“She’s not. Practice ran late and I-I know she’s responsible so I didn’t hurry home,” Namjoon recalls, being more and more frazzled by the second. “She left her phone here, and mom isn’t here either because she’s visiting my grandparents, a-and I don’t want to call her because I know she’ll be worried, a-and-…”

Yoongi interrupts him, the tremble in his fingers only enabling him to dig his nails into his palm deeper. “I’m coming over. Let’s look for her together.”

It barely takes a minute for the both of them to come together, not even exchanging any pleasantries with each other before Yoongi steps on the gas.

Namjoon’s filled with guilt, the type that only a sibling could carry as a burden. He thinks he was too selfish — too accustomed to pulling your own weight that it must have given you the impression that you had no other choice but to. Whatever it was that made you leave out of the blue, Namjoon thinks he could’ve done more. He should’ve came home and made you dinner as promised, for starters. He’s guilty over the fact that he’s the only close familial male figure in your life and he let this happen, as he makes Yoongi put his headlights on high-beam, scanning for anyone that looks remotely like you.

Yoongi, on the other hand, is filled with a guilt he can’t even begin to explain. It corrodes him from the inside-out in realization that he’s to blame for your sudden disappearance, the fact that Namjoon comes to him first to help find you not helping at all. If only your brother knew what he had done to you, he’s positive that he’ll be on the receiving end of a punch — what gets him more is that Yoongi wouldn’t blame him at all.

They see you in the bus stop two cities away, dressed in the same clothes you ran out with.

Namjoon’s relieved beyond compare while Yoongi’s fuming, his hands tucked inside his jacket to prevent himself from squeezing you into an embrace; neither of you deserve it.

There’s an underlying anger within Namjoon, one that lies behind the back of his throat as he checks you over for any injuries. The two of you walk ahead to Yoongi’s car while he himself trails behind, his heart significantly calmer than it was the past hour, yet nowhere near normal.

“Wanna tell me what you did?” your brother hums, trying to exhale the worry that’s embedded into him with each squeeze he gives around your shoulders.

“Went to the convenience store, bumped into my friends, then we took this impromptu roadtrip to go to the night market, then we all had our first actual shot of liquor and not just beer, my friend who owns the car turned out to be a lightweight, and now everyone just has to commute home,” you narrate in recollection, squeezing Namjoon back to try and ground him.

“Okay,” he answers simply, nodding. “Wanna tell me what happened before you did all those things?”

The breathless chuckle that leaves you is empty, void of any amusement at all. You smile nonetheless, unable to placate both yourself and Namjoon. “Nope.”

You arrive in silence to Yoongi’s car, the words unsaid between the three of you generating more tension than your brief disappearance itself.

Yoongi opens the front door for you, but you settle for sitting in the backseat.

#HOW R WE FEELING TARGET AUDIENCE!!! :O #yoongi imagine #yoongi oneshot #yoongi oneshots #yoongi series #yoongi angst #yoongi angst imagine #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi au #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi scenario #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #bts yoongi imagine #bts yoongi x reader

1K notes · View notes