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#YET still somehow looks like he has the most of them?
runa-falls · 2 days
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*raise hand violently* PLEASE CAN I ASK ABOUT sub!miguel headcanons?!?!?!?!?!
What makes him whine, how pretty does his whimpers sound like?!?!?!
How gorgeous does he look when his eyes get all shiny and wet with tears because you won't let him come yet.
sub!miguel headcanons
basic summary: miguel is the whiniest, most pushy malewife and you are his protector, comforter, and safe space :3
a/n: OK BETTER LATE THAN NEVER RIGHT? (im so sorry lmfaooo) also does it count as headcanons if i have random scenes in between them?? wtvr *shoves fic in ur arms and sprints away*
content: suggestive + fluffy
masterlist
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bed habits (I'M TALKING AB SLEEPING YOU DIRTY BASTARD!) -- miguel is a sleepy, cuddly boy
he never has trouble falling asleep when you're around (except for when he - adorably - forces himself to stay awake so he can spend time with you)
this man is 6'7" but he still tries to curl up on your lap when you're lounging on the couch just so you can play with his hair as he dozes off
miguel owns a king sized bed, big enough to fit five people comfortably, yet he's adamant to take up all your space
it gets hot (i mean, he's hot -- literally, like his internal temp is higher than the average human) but even when you try to shove him away, he only pulls you closer to him
if you do, somehow, get away from him, he wakes up immediately with a sleepy groan, blindly reaching across the mattress for you:
you try to dodge his hands, laying precariously at the edge of the bed, hoping he would give up and go back to sleep. unfortunately, it only makes him whine like a spoiled child, "baby, closer. need you...come here" god -- he has such a cute sleepy voice...
but you don't let it sway you. you're already laying on top of the comforter, desperately trying to cool off and get back to sleep.
"it's too hot, miguel"
"but...i can't sleep without you" you can hear the pout in his voice
"just hold a pillow and pretend its me"
he sighs -- actually sighs like the dramatic man he is, "but it's not the same!"
you don't respond, refusing to continue this 3 am argument that you'll never win, and pretend to fall back asleep. maybe he will practice self-soothing or something and sleep by himself? maybe he'll be an adult about this?
silence settles in the air for a few minutes and you're nearly lulled back to unconsciousness. and then you hear the sheets rustle as he sits up next to you, suddenly fully awake and stubbornly staring down at you.
"please?"
"mig, no amount of 'pleases' will convince me to sleep against your volcanic body"
"...how about just until I fall asleep?"
"but when I move away you'll wake up again."
you hear a quiet 'hmph' before you're promptly tugged back against his body. his face presses against your hair as he situates himself to engulf you in his warmth. "exactly, so don't leave me."
it's a common misconception that sub!mig likes to be the little spoon but actually he likes to cling onto you like you're a living teddy bear -- face nuzzled against your neck, legs intertwined with yours, and one large hand on your tit
you often wake up in a tangled mess, your neck stiff from the contorted positions he maneuvers your body into during the night
but you don't mind it anymore, especially on those rare morning swhen you wake up before him and you get to see those worry lines on his forehead soften as he sleeps soundly next to you
miguel is a soft and eager man:
it's his life mission to provide for you, to hear soft words of praise whisper from your lips
as soon as you're alone in a room, he drops the tough guy act and immediately searches for your warmth
miguel sticks to you like velcro when he isn't fighting crime in the city
and when he isn't with you, he's absolutely thinking about you
(of course he makes sure that you're thinking about him too with all the texts he sends you throughout the day -- adorned with cheesy emojis...)
this dude is so needy and desperate for your love, praise and approval that he's the one asking "would you still love me if i were a spider-mutant worm and i looked at you like this: 🐛 to say 'i love you'?"
would he call you 'mami'? debatable.
but he loves it when you call him honey, sweetheart, baby, bubby/bubs, hubby (he wants to marry you so bad), and puppy (WHEN HE'S KINKY BC HE'S A HORNY SOB)
you swear he whimpers a little when you tell him what a good man he is -- when you confess that he's your hero, even when he's not swinging around the city and lifting up buildings with his bare hands
his warm brown eyes search your face, a desperate quest for truth in every gentle word you speak. he's never been spoken to so softly in his life -- this tenderness, it's new...too good to be true
as time passes and your love deepens, he begins to realize that it's all true, that everthing about you is genuine, that he is loveable after all
miguel worships you:
he is definitely a worshipper when you let him be
on slower, more sensual nights, he makes sure to paint your body in kisses, from your ankles to your forehead it's almost tortuous
(maybe even bites if it's been a while since he's seen you)
he likes to kneel for you, make himself smaller so he can look up at you and appreciate everything you've provided for him
he's really whiny and pathetic though...
he wants to be told what to do, when to do it, and how. it helps him let go of this thoughts, anything that's weighing on him
it could be his heightened senses or just his desperation, but he needs to touch you all the time -- even just the light feeling of his hand against your thigh gives him a euphoric feeling.
so you deny him because you know how much he loves the delayed gratification and humiliation when you tease him for it.
"baby, you're acting so needy right now~" you decided to withdraw from the heated interaction to keep him at the edge. his eyes are dark, blazing with heat, as you speak to him with a syrupy sweet voice.
he pouts from the spot where he's kneeling for you, already achingly hard from the thorough petting session you just gave him.
"i'm not trying to be...just really need it." he's whining with a mixture of shame, frustration, and exasperation in his voice.
"It?" you tilt your head, a small smile gracing your lips.
"..." he doesn't elaborate. you can see a hint of pinkness creep up his neck as his eyes avoid yours.
he can get so shy sometimes. it's endearing. it makes you want to destroy him then put him back together again.
"honey, i can't give you what you need unless you tell me." you know what he wants, but you want to hear him say it.
"please"
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Dumb Ways to Die Snippet
I've been working on this in my free time when no other Au or fic feels like functioning. It is goofy and will turn serious later. For now though, enjoy a tired Reaper Ratchet as he is forced to deal with one very clumsy Orion Pax.
━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━
“Reaper.” The Primes sat upon their lofty thrones, their gazes chilly and without emotion. Ratchet knelt before them, his helm bowed respectfully. He abhorred having to lower himself, but there was no denying the superiority of the creatures that watched him with optics so alien that it was hard to believe they were once living beings at all.
“Primus’s chosen has been forged in the living realm. He cannot be allowed to perish until his duty is complete.” Ratchet sighed as the unspoken order registered. This was one of his duties, regardless of whether or not he liked it. As a Reaper, he was not only to collect the dead and guide them home, but he was also obliged to watch over specific sparks that had divine plans that involved them.
He hadn’t actually had to deal with such a thing before. A few other Reapers had been assigned to mecha of importance, but Ratchet was new. He had only joined the ranks of the Reapers shortly after the Quintessons were driven from Cybertron’s surface. A bitter part of his mind reminded him that the reason he was probably receiving this assignment was because of his ranking amongst the Reapers. The pricks higher up on the chain had most likely seen fit to throw the work on him so they didn’t have to bother watching out for a fragile mortal for millennia on end.
Those slaggers. 
“You will watch over him and ensure his continued functioning until you are recalled.” One Prime spoke. Ratchet didn’t dare look up to see who. It was not his place.
“You are permitted to restore him regardless of his injuries so long as there is a rational reason that the order may use to make the repairs real.” Another’s voice rang out, powerful and commanding. If Ratchet were still living, he was sure his plating would be flaring in instinctual fear. At that moment, he was more than thankful for his lack of physical frame as he nodded in understanding.
“Watch over him, Reaper. He is a kind spark.” A firm but definitely feminine voice echoed. He knew her voice. She was the one who chose new Reapers to add to the order. She was the one who stood beside his dying frame and soothed him, promising him a chance to continue living in another form.
“I trust that you out of all our Reapers will tend to him faithfully.” He risked looking up so that he could see Solus Prime smile. Viewing the trust in her expression had all the anger in his spark dissipating like smoke. If it was her order that had him in his new station, then he could accept it. Surely the one she had chosen him to watch over couldn’t be too difficult to keep alive, right?
━━━━━━
“This is the third time this stellar cycle, mortal.” Ratchet wanted to bang his helm against a wall as he greeted his target yet again. Orion Pax was, once more, dying of a shattered spine after falling down the stairs in the Archives. 
“I apologize, Reaper. I promise I did in fact watch where my pedes were going this time. But unfortunately-” 
“You lost hold of your datapad and scrambled to grab it, leading to your tumble of doom.” Ratchet finished for him. Orion shuffled in the void, his expression the embodiment of embarrassment. This was not the first time they met, nor would it be the last at this rate.
Ratchet hadn’t been assigned to the Archivist for a full vorn yet, and Orion had somehow managed to die in over twenty ways in less than twelve deca-cycles. It was honestly quite spectacular. How he managed to last so long prior to Ratchet’s arrival was a complete and total mystery to him at this point.
“Forgive me. I shall do my best to improve and pay closer attention to my surroundings.” Orion bowed his helm slightly, his wispy form shifting as Ratchet rubbed the soft metal beneath his optics and prepared to do what he always did. 
“I’ve heard that enough times already. Don’t bother making a promise you can’t keep.” Sighing, Ratchet stepped forward and grasped at Orion’s spark. His ghostly form disappeared in an instant, and Ratchet exercised what control he had to build himself an avatar. It was as easy as venting for him, in large part due to the frequency of which he was forced to revive his target, but also due to his relative youth amongst the Reapers. He remembered what it was like to live, and that made entering the living realm easier.
“Slag, you really messed yourself up.” Looking down, Ratchet almost wanted to gag. He had been a medic prior to his death. He’d seen more than enough corpses to be largely unphased. And yet somehow, Orion Pax always managed to kill himself in both the most ridiculous and unsettling ways possible.
“Let’s get this over with.” Wishing he could be anywhere else, Ratchet knelt before the shattered corpse of Orion Pax and slowly eased the Archivist’s spark back into his frame. Mangled limbs straightened with painful sounding cracks, shattered spinal struts clicked into place while popping like bubble wrap. Before long, the Archivist gasped and coughed as his systems came back online. He lived again.
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(I didn’t find any info if your askbox is closed or not, if you are not taking up requests you can ignore this!)
But hi :) how are you? how you are doing well
this is a bit personal, but would you mind doing either a Headcanon or scenario with reader x turtles (romantic/crush stage) with a…Hopeless reader? Kinda someone who had to tell themselves that love isn’t on their life journey and that seriously bother them? Lol
this weekend I’m gonna attend a friends wedding, while meeting with some shared friends before the wedding, one of them quoted corpse bride’s scene “to Emily, always the bridesmaid, never the bride” for me (most of my friends are married or dating long term), usually I handle the lack of a love life fairly well (by not thinking about it or just making jokes about it lol) but tonight it kinda really bothered me, a lot.) a lot of my friends treat me being single as something I don’t out efforts in it? But holy shit I do, and it really hurts to see them saying or acting like I’m not doing enough? Anyways. I guess the request would be how the turtles would react to a reader who kinda just lost hope, who agrees with the quote even if it makes her very sad? Kinda trying to wing the night lowkey but turtles can sense it hurt her (maybe Vern said the quote lol, or something similar… that’s something stupid enough for the falcon to do 😅)
I hope makes sense, if not I apologize for the messy ask. Have a good day / night
I'm sorry that happened. Your friends definitely need to stfu about that lol dating and relationships are fun, but nobody NEEDS them. If they need a RELATIONSHIP to feel fulfilled, they have shit to figure out.
Definitely been there tho. And being single can be horrible. I see you
Scene: Your turtle has been secretly pining for you for a while now. Hasn't got the guts to say anything yet.
TMNT x Lonely Reader
Leo
- He could sense your reaction instantly, despite how well you hid it.
- Your micro expressions, the slight but sudden shift of your bodyweight away from Vern- Leo almost didn't catch that you had smiled and laughed at the comment.
- His own reaction was visceral and overwhelming, at least it was to him.
-He remained still by your side, but the urge to...he didn't even know. Hide you. Push hard at Verns shoulder- something.
-Geez. He hadn't felt like this since he was a child. Like he could protect his little brothers or you from judgment or cruelty.
-He couldn't.
-He sucked in a breath through his nose, scrambling for self-control; watching you handle the interaction like an adult. Forcing himself to as well.
-But it did satisfy him to see that Vern physically felt his animosity. The guy took once glance at Leo before he instantly stuttered an excuse to walk to another conversation.
-"Vern is an idiot." Leo scratched out, desperate to keep what he really wanted to say to you at a minimum. "There's absolutely nothing wrong with you."
-You seemed surprised at that, glancing up at him. But your quite, sincere smile made it it worth it.
Raph
- "Always the brides maid, never the bride, huh?"
- "What?" It was a reactive response. Before you could even register what he had said, or the sudden amount of hurt- or embarrassment you felt.
- Raph had turned wide, expectant eyes on Vern as well, something Vern noticed instantly.
- "Well, yunno." Vern stutteres, trying to stay focused on you. "I've seen ya at these events a lot but you never bring a guy around...or-"
-"See that girl over there?" Raph suddenly said, leaning down a little to point your gaze in the right direction.
- "Yeah." You said quietly.
-"Who's that girl, Vern?"
-Vern looked back at you guys, shrugging and putting his hands back in his pockets with an air of pride. "She's my girlfriend."
-Raph smirked, his voice somehow both condescending and unusually soft. "Vern met her a week ago. That makes her..." Raph trailed off, looming back into his full height, towering over Vern. "The sixth one this year, right. Makin' you real good at givin' advice to pretty girls, Falcon boy. Careful with that."
-"Jesus. I'm just- I'll be over there." Vern sighed, awkwardly stepping aside then walking out of sight.
- Raph said nothing, instead turning to you. "You alright?"
-You were desperate not to say everything you wanted to. "Much better." You said instead, looking up at him. Hoping the softness you saw there was a reflection of what you felt for him too.
Donnie
- Donnie couldn't even react or register the words before you were handling it. Shrugging and waving Vern off.
-He was horrified. His eyes were glued to Vern, completely confused that the guy had missed how rude of a statement that was.
-The conversation came and went, and while he had a wonderful time, he was entirety focused on you.
-While you didn't seem MISERABLE, you were different. Something had obviously changed. And it was Verns fault.
-You had no reason to feel pressure of that kind. You were perfect the way you were! No one should ever, ever, ever make you feel anything less.
-The thought that you did made him physically sick to his stomach.
-He might not have caught it in time to say anything in the moment.
-But Verns apartment locks, car, computer, and bathroom pipes all giving him a hard time all in the next 24 hours?
-A complete and utter mystery...
Mikey
-"Yeah you should listen to him." Mikey said.
-Shock coursed through you. "What?" You looked at him, wide eyed, heart in your throat- "W- I should-"
-"You should listen to him." Mikey repeated, noding solumley, starting to confidently strole around Vern. "This guy has fantastic dating advise. You don't even know, girl. Look at him!" Mikey's smile was as bright as the sun, gesturing to Vern as if he was a plater he was showing off to you.
-"He's been on this earth so long, his life experience exceeds our very comprehension, girl."
-Vern made a sudden puzzled expression while yours melted quickly into a smile.
-"He's got recipes too. Qualifications, evidence, the whole nine yards. Guy has like- twelve grand kids-"
-"I- C'mon, Mike-" Vern was catching on.
-"Ohhh.. yeah, that's right. No grandkids. But he does have a wife. They just had their fiftieth anniversary-!"
-"I'm not that o- He's joking with you." Vern tried to explain. "I'm not married."
-Mikey snapped his fingers as he had remembered something, suddenly getting much, MUCH closer in Verns personal space.
-"Oh yeah, that's right. You're not married. I forget that your on, like, your sixth girlfriend this month. Maybe actual advise sounds like..."
-Mikey stepped away from Vern, standing infront of you. "Keep those standards up, girl. Pretty face like yours? You could have anyone you want."
-You couldn't stop smiling.
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Maybe Someday
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Pairing: Joel Miller x older!Reader
Warnings: Idk anything about horses or how to prep them for rides.
Summary: You've been hardcore crushing on your neighbor Joel Miller since the day he, Tess and Ellie arrived in Jackson. Rumor has it he's in a relationship with Tess. Maybe someday he'll finally return your feelings.
*Not Proof Read* TLOU Masterlist
I did my best not to mention anything very descriptive in this. Nothing about looks, gender, race, etc. If I messed up on anything please let me know. Thank you!
*****
" Stop day dreaming about Joel and get back to work, will ya? I'm trying to be out of here before I turn 90. " Maria's tone is laced with amusement.
I snap my eyes away from the man across the street. A warm rush crawls up my cheeks and I quickly turn my attention to the horse in front of me. " I'm not staring at anyone. " I argue, making sure Maria's horse's stirrups are secured properly.
" Sure, Y/N. " Maria chuckles slightly before getting up on the horse.
A small gruff laughter snaps my attention right back to Joel. He pats Ellie on the head before hopping onto his horse. Our eyes don't meet as he walks past the stall, his attention fully on the kid walking besides him.
" You know, there someone new in town I think you'd get along with. " Maria hums. " He's one of the new ones we brought in last week. "
I shake my head. " I'm good Maria. "
" What? Why? " Maria asks while we walk out of the stalls.
My nose scrunches at the thought of the last blind date Maria set me up on . The man was anything but a charmer, insisting on asking uncomfortable questions the moment we met up at the bar. Todd still winks at me whenever we happen to run into each other. " You don't have the best record for blind dates. "
" That's not true. " Maria shakes her head. " Sure, a few of them were misses, sure. But what about Jimmy? He was definitely a looker. "
I roll my eyes. " Maria! "
" What? I'm married, not dead. " She chuckles. The early morning sun sends a small glow over Jackson, making the normally bustling town seem slightly abandoned. Most people aren't out of their homes yet.
" He's only about 10 years younger than me. He was attractive though, I'll give you that. " Maria's obsession with setting me up on blind dates is at times, irritating. I understand she wants me to feel the same happiness she feels with Tommy, I'd just rather find it on my time. Besides, it wouldn't be fair to date someone while my mind's stuck on Joel.
I shouldn't be this flustered at the thought of our past conversations. They've always been polite and...normal. No romance in sight. Nothing worthy of replaying in my head over and over.
Somehow my heart doesn't seem to understand. When I look at Joel I feel like a teenager with a strong crush on a kid in their class. It's...ridiculous. I'm not a teenager and I haven't been for years.
So why doesn't this stupid crush understand?
" Just give it a shot, will you? One last time. If this one ends badly, I'll let go of all this forever. "
Maria and I arrive at the gate where Joel, Tommy and one of the newer residents are waiting.
" Fine. One shot. " I sigh.
A grin breaks out on Maria's face. " I'll let him know. "
I really don't understand why I agreed. Every blind date I've ever gone on has ended up in either heartbreak or disappointment. I guess part of me hopes she's finally setting me up with the one man I really want her to.
He has a girlfriend.
Maybe. They haven't fully come out as a couple. The lingering touches are hard to ignore though.
It's never going to happen. I need to drop it.
" Safe trip guys. " I smile at the patrol groups around the gate.
I watch as the group disappears outside of the gates. With a sigh, I turn around and head back to the stables.
Maybe this date turn out okay.
+++++
I was wrong.
I'm going to kill Maria.
It's been half an hour and I'm already thinking of ways to lose this guy.
" I'd protect you. With me, you have nothing to worry about. " Ryan states confidently while taking a swig from his moonshine. " I've killed so many of those freaks, it's child's play now. "
This man has spent the last ten minutes raving about his excellent infected killing skills.
We're in a world surrounded with infected every day, what on earth makes him think I want to think about it more?
" Mhm. " I hum while taking a sip of my own drink.
I glance around the very busy bar. It's a Friday night after all, everyone and their mother is here. My eyes land on Joel's familiar form. He's seated a few feet away at the bar, his back completely to the table Ryan and I are at.
I was so preoccupied with drinking enough alcohol to help me tolerate the man across from me that I hadn't realized he'd sat down.
" I've had a really good time with you. " Ryan smiles widely.
Wish I could say the same. He spent the entire time talking. I could hardly get a word in. I've never seen a person with so much to say. Now that I think about it, I've never met someone with such a big ego either. You'd think this guy saved humanity or something.
Stop. Be polite.
I force a smile. " I completely agree. " I lie through clenched teeth. I'm counting down the minutes until it turns 10. I told Maria I'd stay an hour and I intend to follow through with that but man is this guy making it hard.
A short, gruff chuckle softly fills my ears. I glance over at Joel. He takes a swig of his drink, trying to hide the fact he was laughing.
He's listening.
" You know, when Maria said she was going to set me up with an older person, I have to admit, I was a bit hesitant at first. "
" Oh? " I raise an eyebrow at Ryan's remark. Where is he going with this?
Maria hadn't told me she was setting me up with another younger guy. She'd probably thought I would've immediately shot the idea down. She wasn't wrong.
Ryan nods. " Yeah, I've had my fair share of fucking old timers and I usually get stuck doing all the work but I have a feeling you're different. "
What the actual fuck.
I stare at the man across from me in shock. " Excuse me? " What the fuck am I supposed to say to that? Thank you?
" What I'm trying to say is, I think you're hot. We should go back to my place. Have a little fun, if you know what I mean. " Ryan smirks while making a gesture with his hand.
Well, that took a turn.
I shake my head, pushing myself away from the table. " I'm not interested. Thanks for the drink, but I should be going. " I grab my jacket and begin to pull it on.
So much for trying to make it to an hour. This guy is insane.
" Wait, you don't have to go. We could have fun. You look like the type to need a little more fun in your life. " Ryan stands up after me.
" Seriously, I'm ok. You have a good night. " I turn to leave.
Ryan quickly grabs my arm, trying to prevent me from leaving. " I literally gave you a fucking compliment a few minutes ago. You should be grateful I'm even willing to sleep with someone like you. I fucking lowered my standards for this. "
" Please let go of me. " I attempt to seem less shaken then I am.
Ryan doesn't listen. " You owe me. "
" Let go. " Joel's suddenly right next to Ryan. " Or I'll help you let go. "
Ryan glares at Joel. " What's your deal, man? This is a private conversation. Butt the fuck out. "
Joel ignores him, wrapping his hand over Ryan's. He yanks Ryan's arm off of me. " My 'deal' is you're a complete asshole who doesn't understand when someone is saying no. "
Ryan pulls his arm away from Joel, his face turning red from rage. " Fuck you, man. "
Joel's eyes darken. " Get the fuck out of this bar. If I see you around Y/N again you're a dead man. "
The threat sends a cold shiver down my spine. He's serious. There's no way he's not.
Ryan looks like he's about to say something else when Joel sends him a sharp look. Without another word, Ryan pushes past me, completely ignoring me in the process. "
The drama caused a few people to tune into the conversation.
Slightly embarrassed, I try to focus on Joel. " Thank you. " I mumble, rubbing my arm slightly. Even though his hand is gone, I can still feel how hard he was holding onto me.
This could've gone so badly tonight if Joel wasn't here. Thank god he was here.
" No need to thank me. That guy was a fucking asshole. Here, let me buy you a drink. I'm sure you're shaken up after that. " Joel gestures to the empty barstool near his abandoned seat.
I hesitate for a moment. Part of me wants to go back to the safety of my home. The other part is eager to have a chance to talk with Joel again. Deep down, I'm also slightly afraid Ryan might be waiting outside to get back at me.
" Sure. " I agree, taking a seat. The counter is sticky and cool under my arms.
Now that the drama is over, everyone's returned back to their previous conversations.
" Are you alright? " Joel asks.
I let out a sigh. " Just a little shaken up. And...confused. " let out a small uncomfortable laugh. " That was the most fucking confusing date of my life. I can't believe Maria tried to set me up with someone who talks like that. "
Joel grunts. " She's so invested in playing cupid that she's completely forgotten some people shouldn't be dating. "
" You've got that right. I'm pretty sure she's just setting me up with anyone who's available at this point. " I shake my head and gently swirl the alcohol the bartender handed to me. " I am never dating again. "
" That's a shame. " Joel takes a sip of his cup, his eyes trained in front of him. " I would've liked to take you out. "
What? My heart pounds.
My eyebrows furrow in confusion. " Aren't you dating Jess? "
Joel's eyes widen as he looks over at me. " Jess? "
I nod slowly. " Yeah, aren't you guys dating? "
Joel shakes his head. " No. We're...we're not dating. We used to for a brief while before we came to Jackson, but things didn't work out. She fell in love with another guy. "
Whoa. I really read that wrong.
" Oh, I'm sorry. I had no idea. "
Joel shakes his head. " It's all good. We weren't right for each other. " Joel is silent for a moment. " I'm sorry he treated you like that tonight. "
I shrug. " It's alright. It's what it is. "
" No, it's not. Nobody should be treated like that, especially you. " Joel turns so he's slightly facing me. " Look, I know you're not interested in dating again right now, but if you ever change your mind I'd love to take you out. Show you how a date should really go. "
Butterflies begin to flutter in my stomach. This is like a dream come true.
" I'd love that. " I reply with a grin. " I might have to take you up on that offer. I think I'm just not interested in blind dates anymore. "
A small smile breaks onto Joel's face, a rare sight. " Sounds like a plan then. How does tomorrow night sound? "
" Perfect. "
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tblsomedoodles · 2 years
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No yeah I get that too (Not me giving my faves migranes bc Chronic Headaches��)
If you'd like a fun humor break I'll hazard Donnie gets webbed by Mikey completely on accident at least once. Can you imagine sneezing accidentally setting off the web? Just an absolute mess all around
Or just plain fluff if Mama and Splinter end up having a chat later and S feels bad about how at one point he had to set his boys down and never pick them up again. And Big Mama just goes "Huh" but ya know. Her actual spider form is big enough to still cradle them like babies. And they are Her Babies. So Raph gets picked up again and cradled close for the first time in years. The heart melting floof
giving our favs our problems is what we, as fans, do best lol : )
lol that would be great! Like Mikey sneezes and accidentally shoots webs out of his room. A second later there's a yelp and a thump, followed by
Donnie: Oh no! Not again!
Mikey: Oops! My bad!
as for Mama wanting to carrying her kids around, that's adorable : )
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and Raph would absolutely love that he's carrying size to someone again : )
Thank you! : )
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ruporas · 1 year
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invisible scars (referenced previous talk here)
[ID: A colourless, digital Trigun comic of Vash and Wolfwood talking about Wolfwood's scars. They're both laying in bed and topless. Vash lays on top of Wolfwood, playing with the rosary around his neck. Then, Vash kisses a spot on Wolfwood's chest. Wolfwood asks, "What are you doing?" Vash smiles sadly, "You got shot here. In the last town we visited. You didn't even bother moving."
Vash props himself up over Wolfwood, who frowns slightly. Wolfwood is quiet for a moment before he says, "You remember that, huh?" Vash grabs Wolfwood's left wrist and brings it to his face. "And here." He kisses another spot there. "When you helped free the hostages from that robber..." Wolfwood dismissively says, looking away, "Was a lucky shot." Vash huffs, “Don’t brag. Jeez.”
Half of Wolfwood's expression is shown, eyes returning to Vash who is now sitting up, continuing to say, "And..." Vash goes on and kiss Wolfwood's right palm. "You got cut here, even though that girl was aiming at me." A moment from the past flashes, of Wolfwood grabbing a knife aimed at Vash, his hand bleeding.
At present, Vash moves down and puts another kiss on Wolfwood's right shoulder. "And here, from watching my back." Another memory flashes of Wolfwood and Vash back to back. Vash looks back as Wolfwood grins while holding Punisher, bleeding from multiple gunshots in his shoulder.
"And," Vash combs up Wolfwood's hair to reveal his forehead, "Here." A final memory shows Wolfwood with a regeneration vial in his mouth while getting shot on his temple. The next panel is framed in blood with Vash at the center, eyes wide and stunned in horror. The next panel is a closed up shot of Wolfwood's eye, locked on Vash's face.
Back to present, Vash’s head is bowed down as Wolfwood raises a hand to his nape and says, “Spikey.”
Wolfwood looks serious and frowns as he says, "We talked about this. Those were my decisions. They're not there anymore. Forget about them." Vash looks very sad before he smiles ruefully and says, "I still see them. All the time." He leans down so they touch foreheads. Wolfwood’s sorrowful expression can be seen as Vash says, "You protect so much. I could never forget what you've done to me. And many others..."
In the last image, they're drawn more cartoonishly. Wolfwood sweats and asks, "You don't actually remember every wound, right?" Vash points at a spot on his chest. "Kuroneko left a scratch here 7 times." Wolfwood, startled, says, "Why the hell are you keeping count—" End ID]
Credits for ID here and here
#vashwood#vash the stampede#nicholas d wolfwood#trigun#trigun maximum#another scars comic for one of the vw week days!!!! frankly i think about their scars WAY too often . most notably wolfwood's because#it really symbolizes a lot for him imo bc for vash it's a history of all the people that's ever harmed him betrayed him and the trust he has#given to humanity despite it all. its a beautiful reflection of his character and then u look at ww and presumably#since we dont really see him half naked Ever (shame) and i mean. i guess technically its a hc -- i assume he wouldn't have any scars bc#of the regen potions (which is why he doesnt have his t scars btw the regen pot took them away :pensive:)#in a way its like washing his hands of blood. giving him the body of someone who might never been involved in a fight never held a gun#but he knows thats not true yet he cant really do anything about it anyway bc he's still just human. if he stops taking the regen pots#he can't press forward. so its just a rinse and repeat and growing accustomed to whats inflicted on him because he knows it'll go away at#the end of the day. he's human but he's also not he's far beyond what could be considered a normal human but he still just is.#mortal but also not immortal. idk. i overthink about it a lot GMSKGMDK frankly i dont think it matters THAT much in the context of trimax#but it means a lot to me somehow. also thinking about how no matter how many times ww kills he's never numb to the sensation of it. maybe#the adrenaline gets to him for the beginning half but ive been rereading like.. vol 3? and that entire fight for ww#u can slowly see him spiral as he keeps on going on. anyway anyway. i love ww#ruporas art
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Milgram fic idea: the prisoners are bored (as they always are) and they've already celebrated every holiday imaginable. So someone suggests doing a cross-dressing event for a change. Mahiru, Mikoto and Muu help everyone find the perfect fit (Mahiru sews half the clothes herself to make it look perfect).
A bunch of gender crisis ensue.
#milgram#milgram project#milgram fanfic#yuno cuts her hair short “just for the bit” and doesn't grow them back for “some reason”#haruka has a mental breakdown thinking about how his mom wanted a girl and if only he could've been her#fuuta doesn't seem to care that much about presenting feminine. rightfully so. he's rocking this plaid skirt after all#same with muu. she doesn't seem all that changed. after all she knows for a fact she's the most handsome guy at the party#she still feels a bit melancholic for some reason. she wonders if she could go out with girls with this look#shidou has already worn dresses/skirts before. when he was a student he went to themed parties where couples would exchange outfits#he finds it funny. he's quite secure in his masculinity so he's just having a fun time#mahiru takes the role of the prince charming she dreams of. she speaks with a funny voice because she tries to lower her pitch#she's not very successful at it but it just makes her laugh. she's also the one who made sure that everyone felt comfortable in their outfit#kazui is having an existential crisis. he doesn't know what mask to wear anymore. “is this even allowed for me to do that?”#after a while he just has fun with everyone. he doesn't feel the need to drink that much alcohol during the party. he feels young again#amane isn't really interested in all this. she accepted to wear the outfit given to her by mahiru and let her style her hair#but she feels like all of these futile festivities are childish. yet she looks into the mirror every now and then and ponders about all this#Mikoto is in his element for some reason. he likes these kinds of carefree moments#by exploring his gender and presentation he feels like he's getting closer to himself. his identity feels blurry to him sometimes#but this kind of exploration is helping somehow#kotoko doesn't care about all of this. she doesn't really get the appeal of “cross-dressing”. it's just a piece of clothe after all.#the others do find her quite handsome in her tuxedo though#es got woken up by the ruckus. saw what was going on. went back to sleep.
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hopefulyellowlamp · 1 year
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it really hurts to see the people i trusted and loved more than anything in the world just move on from me as if they never knew me
#lamp vents#aka my exfriend posted on tiktok and i havent unfollowed them yet...#and im still not over how he just... cut me out of his life with no warning#he was like 'yeah i get that youre autistic and has a panic disorder and a severe depression. but also all your symptons for these are unac#ceptable and i hate u' and not only cut me out of his life but also turned several other of my friends against me#like i cant get over the fact that they used moments where i was in distress and having panic attacks or severe sensory overload against me#as if i would have sensory overloads and panic attacks just to manipulate them or make THEM feel bad#jeez im sorry i didnt realize im not allowed to have emotions#i know i snap when im overwhelmed which is why i usually always would deafen/leave call on discord immediately and try to jreathe or calm#and somehow theyd still turn it to be avout them#i was trying my damnedest to be the best friend but jesus christ man they expected me to do SO MUCH when i had two panic disorders and so m#uch mental health issues#most of which i tried to explain to them... they were all neuro spicy ot mentally ill too so i thought theyd understand#i thought theyd at least not think the worst of me when all ive ever done is look up to them#the worst feeling ever is having someone i looked up to and wantef to be like so much it fucking hurt#say everything they hated about me after 4 or so years of friendship where i trusted them enough to tell them anything#it still makes me doubt myself#anytime someone writes to me about how we need to talk i immediately expect loads of pent up anger at me#i always expect my friends to finally be done with my bullshit and tell me theyre tired of me#ive always had doubts about wether or not im a good enough friend or not but lately its just been so much worse#and i keep getting so angry and frustrated because i still miss them and i still wanna try and make it up to them#even tho theyve made it clear they already made up their mind about me being the bad guy#i just feel so helpless and alone#i used to be able to go to him about all my problems but i guess he really saw that as bothersome... i did so much for him and for what#i spent so much time with him and i knew his parents and i knew his pets and i knew his routines#we CUDDLED while sleeping in the same bed multiple times we took naps together and i#i showed him my favourite childhood game#and he bottled up all his emotions until they spilled into hatred for me#for what? for nlthing. and then he teams up with another friend WHICH I INTRODUVED HIM TO#he fucking replaced me after all those nights of quick typing and crying and reassuring him that i loved him and would never replace him
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neo-nomatrix · 5 months
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Sunshine and Midnight Rain
Luke Castellan x Apollo kid!Reader
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word count: 851
summary: Luke castellan and the daughter of apollos love story
a/n: “remember who the enemy is” IM TRYING
Luke Castellan held your heart since the day you met, and you held his.
You arrived at camp a few months after Luke. You were one of the lucky ones, claimed within an hour of being there. Your godly father is Apollo, god of poetry, the sun, music, narcissism, idiocy, stupidity, all that. You had assumed the gods would act superior to all, no matter if they were or weren’t. But Apollo was on a completely different level. You didn’t know why he had taken such a liking to you.
“You remind him of himself,” Your half sister, Kayla, had told you, “an archer who never misses, healer who fixes every wound, gifted singer, and somehow picked up the lyre in a day. And yet, you still ask why Apollo loves you the most?”
“I wish he wouldn’t,” you twirl the golden arrow he gifted you.
“y’know, that hermes boy has been staring since the moment you stepped foot here,” she smiles, nodding to the tan boy sitting on a picnic table.
“Great, more attention,” you keep your sights on the boy, lucas? Luca, maybe?
“His name’s luke castellan,” kayla says, ah luke, that’s it.
“He’s handsome,” you say matter of factly.
“Don’t trust those Hermes boys, all they do is lie,” Kayla leans back and rolls her eyes.
“It’s a good thing I play the lyre.”
——————
“You’ve got a great shot,” a deep voice says from behind you.
You’ve been at the range for around an hour, it’s 4:30, you always practice when no one else is around.
“The whole reason why I come out here this early is so i can be alone,” sure, it sounds mean but you swear you’re not trying to be.
“Sorry, once I see you it’s hard to look away,” you’re not looking at him but you can tell me has the biggest smirk on his face.
“Funny,” you tell him bluntly.
You set down your bow, keeping the arrow in your hand, and sit on the nearby grass. He lays down beside you, you follow his lead and put your hands behind your head.
“That arrow, it’s like it’s made of the sun,” He says amazed.
“A gift from dear old dad. No matter how far I shoot it’ll always come back. Supposed to be a sign of his love or something. But I think he just constantly wants me to be annoyed by him,” you inform him possibly too much.
“Most people would be grateful if their godly parent cares that much,” he says.
“It’s different with Apollo, there is no such thing as true altruism with him,” you bite your inner lip.
“I get that, I’m just tryna say- Hermes never showed up for me, and I'd kill to just have him tell me he cares,” His eyes furrow.
“Guess we both have different priorities,” you smile.
“Opposites work best don’t they?” He smiles back.
“Isn’t it opposites attract?” You wonder.
“Hey, your words, not mine,” he laughs.
“That one’s Orion,” You point up at the constellation.
“He was always my favorite,” he adds.
“Mine has always been Cassiopeia, but you can never see her over here,” You look back up at the sky.
“That one’s Taurus, and then Sirius below, and Gemini above,” you point each of them out.
Even though he hums in acknowledgment his eyes are locked on you.
“You’re staring, again” You mention.
“I told you I can’t help it, especially when you glow like that,” he reaches out and touches your face.
You reach out and grab his hand, running your fingers against his slender digits.
“I’d like to be a constellation when I die, maybe my father will fulfill that wish,” you say to him.
“That’ll be my last wish too, we can lay in the stars together.”
——————
It’s been a day since Percy Jackson came to Camp Half-blood. It just so happens to be your favorite day of the year, capture the flag. You have led the archers on the blue team for years, you’d say you’re doing well for what you’re given. Besides your siblings in Apollo the rest of the kids weren’t as gifted in archery.
As the first conch shell blew you were preparing for your mock-battle. Annabeth in charge of the plan and Percy, Luke with company, and you with the archers. You knew you could, no- would win. The archers took the trees, helping stray company from the skies.
“Today feels like a winning kind of day?” Annabeth asks luke.
“I’ll see you on the other side,” He smiles.
“Luke!” You pull him aside for a moment.
You cup his face the best you can through his armor. “You don’t get hurt okay? I don’t feel like healing anymore wounds from you. Understand?”
“Oh but I love to see you healing” he holds your hand and smirks
“Archers! Move out!” You call your team, eyes still locked with his, smiling.
“so… you and her?” Percy asks the taller boy.
“how could I not? She's perfect. I mean, I genuinely believe I could live without the sun if I just had her.”
And maybe, just maybe, he could.
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nmakii · 2 months
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GETTING CAUGHT IN THE MOMENT… LIPSTICK ON YOUR FACE
— alastor + lucifer + vox getting caught with lipstick stains all over them…
— generally gn!reader. guys can wear lipstick too smh
hehe i got a new lip tint (˶‾᷄ ⁻̫ ‾᷅˵) maybe alastor’s part is a little self-projected
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— alastor
alastor himself isn’t one for physical affection. in fact, the thought itself makes him feel dirty. someone else’s skin against his… eugh…
though, when it came to you, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself; hands clawing and playing with your hair, wrapping his arms around your neck, pinching your cute cheeks, holding your hand… it’s almost as if he’d double-die without you near!
and the only thing he’d enjoy more than that would be having his affection reciprocated; interlocking your arm with his, a surprise hug from behind, a kiss on the cheek, they are all more than appreciated! especially the thing about kissing…
a kiss from you is simply just exhilarating. the suddenness yet sweetness of it, it’s truly the purest form of love, regardless of if it’s familial, romantic, or platonic— it’s the purest expression of your love for another person.
so, just imagine alastor’s reaction to your new lipstick, strawberry red to give your lips a glossy color, yet still light enough to appear natural. the pretty hue of red complimenting your face features perfectly by giving it the color it needs as to not appear pale.
absolutely gorgeous. so confusing how a simple amount of color could make you look as if you were an angel from heaven itself. you quite literally took his breath away from just applying a new lipstick…
at some point, alastor had reached some sort of limit when he finally caved into his inner desires, bringing you to a secluded place in the hotel, his hands moving to your hips and hair.
he couldn’t wait any longer to place his lips on your’s, your lipstick smearing all over his thin lips. kissing him from his cheeks to his jawline, leaving light pink stains all over his skin.
he groaned at the feeling of wet lipstick all over his face, and at the same time reveled in the ways you are telling everyone that the only one who could see the radio demon in such a needy and doe-like state would be you; he’d be yours to fool around with, and yours to do however you’d see fit. just as you are his— no one else’s. the smeared lipstick on the side of your lips should send that as a statement enough to whatever lowlife hooligan would even attempt to sweep you off your feet.
when the two of you had returned, it was a strange sight to say the least… alastor’s face and jaw covered with pink lips, and you with your lipstick smudged and smeared off your lips, instead all over you neck.
“well, uh… you two look like ‘ya had lot’sa fun…” angel said monotonously, awkwardly trying to keep up conversation. “ohh, most certainly!” alastor grinned, his transatlantic accent popping through the radio static.
he knows he could’ve wiped it off… he has a handkerchief in his back pocket, he could’ve easily saved himself that awkward conversation.
but, he didn’t.
could you blame him? he wants all of hell to know that both you and him off-limits for good.
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— lucifer
when many imagine the king of hell, it’s hard to think he’d be a social piranha. the same case had gone for you.
who knew lucifer was still as pure of heart as he was during his time in heaven? and who knew he’d fall for someone so easily after the sudden disappearance of his wife?
when he saw you, it was practically love at first sight! your big eyes, your shiny hair, and those big pretty lips of yours that he just wanted to kiss so badly…
he listened carefully as charlie introduced you to him, trying to remember every detail about you and every feature on your face, stuttering over his words once it was time to speak for himself.
and somehow, despite his meekness towards you and your awkwardness whenever he was around, you two ended up in a relationship— with the help of vaggie and charlie’s meddling in pushing you two together.
the two of you loved each other, of course… but it was always hard to express. the only way lucifer knew how to show his love was through his presence and gifts. he wasn’t hell’s greatest kisser, but he tries.
and, today— it was your 5 month anniversary… quite a long time, the hotel’s been good so far, no major threats other than one of cherri bomb’s occasional explosions. and because of how long it’s been, you decided to do something a little special… put on some relatively expensive clothes and make-up your face a little bit.
when lucifer saw you all dolled up, he was honestly a little stunned. lips as red as an apple, hair as soft as silk, the words were stuck in his mouth. “w- er- wow..! i’m not dressed up or anything— agh, this is awkward..” lucifer muttered. “hey, it’s ok… this was a surprise for you, y’know?” you said, comforting him slightly.
“you look… stunning today” he smiled, carefully putting down his anniversary present for you on his work desk, still wrapped in a red ribbon. he made his way to you, hands making their way to your cheeks to softly cup them as he gently leaned into you for a kiss.
he released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding as you kissed his face all over, as if healing the wounds of his past with his present. his banishment into hell, lilith’s abandonment, they all didn’t matter anymore, you are the present and the future.
he wrapped his arms around your waist in a hug as he kissed your forehead, the residual lipstick from his lips smeared onto you.
lucifer laughed awkwardly before using his finger to carefully rub off the pink stains on your forehead. “haha… c’mon, i got a dinner reservation in the lust ring tonight…” he laughed, interlocking his arm with yours.
“don’t you wanna take off that lipstick on your face first?” you raised an eyebrow at him. “i mean… i dont minddd… so, it’s only if you wanna take if off” his eyes wandered, his cheeks growing flustered “hmm… nah. i want everyone to know you belong to me now.” you grinned mischievously.
and when the two of you walked out of the hotel lobby, charlie went to wish you a safe trip and happy anniversary before she noticed the stains on her dad’s face. “err… dad..? you gotta a little something there…” charlie muttered as she pointed all over his face. “ah..? yeah, i know” he laughed it off, proudly showing off to hell how hopelessly devoted he is to you.
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— vox
vox was a busy man. from having many public appearances, to coming up with new ideas for voxtek, to putting out valentino’s temper tantrums, he barely had the time for romance.
barely. he loved you, truly. he keeps you dear to his heart, no matter how busy he’d be, vox would still make time for you late at night.
everyone had known you, why wouldn’t they? you’re the partner of one of the most influential overlords in hell, that’s a feat that is amazing to accomplish, dating vox in itself has made you into a sort of local celebrity; causing you to be invited to many galas, parties, and occasional raves.
and tonight happened to be the night of one of those parties. zestial had invited you to a formal dinner party, an all star guest list filled by many of the goetic princes, various overlords in hell, and other local hellborns such as verosika mayday.
“please, voxxx? just this once, it’s only like 3 hours!” you grumble as your apply a coat of ruby red over your lips, checking your appearance in the bathroom mirror. “i can’t.. i have a 5:00 with val and velvette, then after that, a board meeting about new gadgets to release…” vox groaned, already pissed about the day ahead.
“fine then, your loss.” you pouted, rolling your eyes as you left the bathroom and into the bedroom. “holy shit…” vox sighed out. “you look… really good, my love.” he walked over to you, his hands moving to your body, outlining the clothes’ stitching as he recognized it to be the one he had custom-made for you.
your hands rested on vox’s shoulders, forcibly making him lean over a bit before leaving various kiss stains all over his screen.
vox visibly tensed as his screen started glowing a bright teal, showing his clear embarrassment as pink smudges fogged his screen.
his breath heaved as his hands moved all around your body, desperate to find some kind of relief to his pent-up stress.
ending your kiss attack all too soon on his lips, you pulled away, your lips slightly pale now as you grinned at him. “spend the day looking like that and i’ll give you more after work” you winked, taking your belongings and leaving out the door, leaving a flustered vox in your bedroom, covered with lipstick stains.
“vox… the fuck is going on with your face?” velvette snarled. “it looks as if you got fucking mauled by a bear pretending to be a woman.” she yelled, her british accent making her trip over some consonants.
vox sighed, hearing valentino mutter some sort of dirty comparison of vox to a prostitute. “instead of focusing on me, why don’t you put your efforts into our agenda today?” vox frowned, his tone clearly saying that he’s holding himself back from releasing a flood of curses onto the two…
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diedoverahat · 6 months
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A Different Kind of Compensation.
╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗ ╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝
part two!
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pairing: mike schmidt x fem!reader
prompt: you’ve been babysitting abby for mike nearly three months now. he constantly apologizes for not paying you yet, you constantly tell him it doesn't bother you. one night he comes back from his shift at freddy’s and has a different idea on how to compensate you for all of your hard work.
warnings: 18+, oral (fem receiving), vaginal fingering (kinda???), munch!mike.
word count: this was supposed to be a short dirty work that somehow turned into a 2.2k monster. told you i love to ramble.
authors note: remember when i said i might write smut if i was just so moved by an ask? well turns out my very first ask moved me. y'all are nasty, i love it. mike, of course, is a munch because why would he be anything else? i never, with a capital N, write smut so please bear with me if it sucks. i hope whoever requested this loves it! i wrote it instead of finishing my scientific article for bio so it better be decent hehe.
╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗ ╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝
The sound of the front door opening followed by heavy footsteps woke you up from where you were dozing off on the couch. You gazed at the clock on the side table near you and sure enough, 6:10 blinked back at you. Mike was finally home. You heard him shuffling around in the kitchen, most likely shedding his work vest and hanging his keys on the little hook by the door.
You yawned, trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes as you sat up on the couch. The blanket you used to cover yourself falling to pool around your waist. Mike finally made his way to the living room, sitting on the couch with a soft grunt. 
“Hey,” he said quietly, his voice rough from lack of use. “Abby eat anything?”
“Yeah, a little,” You mutter back through a barely concealed yawn, head lolling to rest on the back of the couch. “You know how she is.”
He hums in acknowledgement but stays silent apart from that, keeping his gaze trained on the infomercial playing on TV. A comfortable silence settles over the two of you. You sit up even further on the couch, leaning against the arm rest facing Mike. The blue/green hue of the TV bathed him in light, his hair was unruly with curls sticking out at awkward angles. He had deep bags under his eyes. Just as you thought about getting up to take off, he spoke up again. 
“I promise I’ll get you the money,” he says softly, not taking his eyes off the TV, “I…I just need some time.”
You scoff in mock annoyance, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Mike, you know I don’t care about the money. I don’t mind doing this for you.” You reply, nudging his knee with your foot softly then just leaving it perched on his lap.
Mike finally turns to look at you, there's a strange look on his face that you can’t quite place, but you give him a small smile all the same. He stares at you for a few beats, you can practically see the gears turning in his head. 
“You deserve something,” he whispers, his brows furrowed in frustration. “You do so much for me, it’s only fair.” As he speaks, he slowly moves his hand off the couch to your ankle still resting on his thigh, he starts rubbing slow circles over the skin there. His eyes never left yours as he touched you, a very obvious question in them. Asking if you wanted this.
Heat instantly rushed to your belly, cheeks turning a light shade of red at his touch. You’d always thought Mike was attractive, but you never would have imagined he’d want to be anything more than friends. Since he was already so busy with taking care of Abby and his hellish new job.
You swallow once before speaking, your throat feeling dry all of a sudden. “What are you suggesting?” You ask so softly, wondering if he even heard you. Mikes’ fingers stop in favor of trailing his hand up your calf in a featherlight touch, disappearing under the blanket to seek out more of your soft skin. Your heart is beating so fast you think you might die, the sound of it echoing in your ears loudly. 
Mike's big brown eyes stare into yours with a newfound intensity, visibly shocked that you're reacting so viscerally to his touch, his pupils are blown to hell. Chocolate brown being swallowed by black.  His tongue coming out to sweep over his top lip.
“How about you,” he says slowly, scooting closer to you on the small couch. He crowds into your personal space like he belongs there. Mike’s lips inches away from yours. He smells like old leather and dust from being cramped in the security office at Freddy’s. Your chest heaves as your eyes flit back and forth from his eyes to his lips. Seconds drag by like hours as you painstakingly wait for him to finish his sentence. “Stay right there while I make you feel good.” He finally says, his breath fanning over your face hotly. You can’t even speak, afraid of how desperate you might sound, just nodding your head roughly, not looking away from his hungry gaze.
Mike’s hand runs up your leg quickly after you give him the green-light, slipping further under the blanket and higher up your leg until he reaches his destination. He rubs you gently through your shorts, your breath hitches sharply at what should be just a simple touch, but you’re still so worked up from earlier that it feels ten times more extreme. You grasp the blanket still strewn over your lap tightly in your fists, it's the only thing keeping you from seeing Mike’s hand at work between your legs.
Mike reacts to touching you for the first time like he can feel it too. His breath stutters out of his chest, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your already wet folds through your thin cotton sleeping shorts. “Fuck.” He breathes out quietly, so quietly you doubt he even meant to say it out loud. He opens his eyes again, breathing slightly rougher as he stares at you through his arousal induced haze and heavy eyelids. 
Seeing your face must spur him on because he starts rubbing with more fervor than before, his clever fingers applying more pressure making you moan softly. You cut yourself off quickly, eyes darting down the hall to Abby's bedroom door. It's still closed, there's no light leaking through the crack between it and the floor.
"Shit, Mike." You whine quietly.
Mike groans softly at the sound of his name leaving your lips, body trembling slightly with the feeling. Suddenly he wrenches his hand out from under the blanket, and rips it off your lap frantically. You gasp sharply at the cool air breaking through the bubble of warmth the blanket provided, involuntarily closing your legs.
Mike pushes up from his position on the couch next to you, knee walking over so he's kneeling in-front of your clenched thighs. You're still slightly sprawled across the cushions, leaning on the arm of the couch.
"Do you know how crazy you make me?" He asks roughly, putting both his hands on your still closed knees. It takes a second for your brain to catch up to answer him, after a few moments you finally manage a faint shake of your head.
"No?" He asks, tilting his head to the left slightly. "Let me show you then."
Mike grabs your wrist, tugging you closer to him, and leads your hand down into his lap. Your breath catches in your throat when he places your hand directly over his clothed erection, but it gets drowned out by Mike's louder whine thanks to you touching him for the first time. You drag your eyes downward, his dark grey sweatpants leave little to the imagination. He got more worked up touching you than you first thought, if the wet patch forming near the tip of his hard-on was anything to go by.
As soon as you started to rub him with purpose, Mike grabbed your wrist, halting your efforts. "No," He said breathlessly, practically panting. "No, this is for you tonight. Just wanna focus on you."
He let go of your wrist, turning his head in your direction. Both of you failed to realize how close you'd gotten when he dragged you to him. Your noses practically touch when he turns, catching you both off guard. His eyes travel down to your lips, staring at how red and puffy they'd gotten from you biting them to muffle your moans.
"How sweet of you, Mike." You whisper, leaning in just a tad closer. He lets out a guttural groan and closes the distance between your lips, claiming your mouth with his own. He leans forward, gently guiding you to lay back on the couch. His body completely covering yours as the two of you makeout, his arms on either side of your head and his hips slotting against yours, letting you feel the hard length of his cock against your cunt. You moan into his mouth, your hips bucking up to meet his.
Mike breaks the kiss with a whine, trying to muffle the noise by shoving his face in your neck. You bring your hands up to tangle in his curly hair, yanking it roughly as he starts littering kisses all along your collarbones. Nipping and sucking in-between his gasping little moans as you twist and pull his hair in your grip.
He tears his mouth away to stare up at you through his lashes, his lips are swollen and red. “Please,” He gasps out, his hips unconsciously grinding down into your thigh. “Let me eat you out. Please. Tell me I can, say I can.” He babbles, hips rutting faster every second you don’t answer him.
“Yes.” You exclaim as quietly as possible. “Do it, Mike. Eat me out.”
Mike’s whole body shudders at your words, eyes falling closed for a second before he quickly slides down your body, leaving an odd kiss here and there as he goes. He brings his hands up to grip the waistband of your shorts, pausing to take a single steadying breath, then he tugs them down along with your panties and tosses them aside. He stares down at you in awe for a good few moments before he lays on his stomach, right in front of your dripping cunt.
Mike kisses along the inside of your thighs for a bit, licking everywhere but where you want him to the most. “Thank you.” he mutters, tone way too earnest for the situation at hand but you don’t have much time to think about it before he’s diving face first into your thighs.
“Fuck!” You let your voice get way too loud in the quiet atmosphere of the house, but you can’t help it. You didn’t think Mike had lots of experience because of some late night drunken talks before, but he was either lying or holding out. He works his tongue expertly along every inch of you. Every swirl, flick, or suck has you catapulting to the edge way faster than you’d imagined.
It doesn't help that Mike keeps letting out these noises. Small needy whines or deep guttural groans that you can feel. He’s moaning like he’s the one getting head, unashamed and authentic. It’s so fucking sexy.
“Shit Mike, I’m close. I’m so close.” You whisper too quietly for him to hear with his head trapped between your thighs, but it doesn’t matter. Mike brings his thumb up to lightly circle your clit as he laps against your entrance, and you're gone.
Your thighs shake as you release, grabbing on Mike’s hair for dear life as you go through the most intense orgasm ever. He moans into your cunt, working you through the aftershocks. He laves his tongue along you until the overstimulation gets to be too much and you drag his face away by his hair.
He sits up, the bottom half of his face covered in spit and slick. That visual alone is almost enough to get you ready for round two. It’s silent except for the heavy breathing coming from you both.
After he catches his breath, Mike retrieves the blanket from behind his back somewhere to cover the lower half of your body. Your thighs are still shaking as he lays next to you, it’s a tight squeeze but neither of you seem to mind. He kisses the side of your face sweetly, throwing his arm around your waist to pull you in even closer.
You finally regain enough conscience to speak. “Are you sure you don’t want to get off?” You ask, “I mean I can’t feel my legs but I’m sure we could think of something.” Mike only laughs quietly, shaking his head. “Maybe next time, this was about you.” He said, beginning to rub his fingers back and forth on your hip. “Plus I, uh, I already sort of…” He trails off, a flush forming on his cheeks.
It took you a second to realize what he was saying, but when it clicked you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped your mouth. You lifted up the blanket covering the two of you, and sure enough Mike had an impressive wet patch seeping through his sweats.
He pinches your hip lightly, offended by your giggling. “Don’t laugh at me,” He complains with a smile, yanking the blanket back up. “I couldn’t help it.”
You stifle another laugh to the best of your ability, though your shoulders still shake ever so slightly. You turn your head to press a kiss to his lips. It’s different from the previous kisses you shared tonight. It’s slower and softer, full of a new emotion that you both feel, but know that it can wait to be talked about later. For now you’re both just basking in the afterglow.
You break the kiss first, pulling back only slightly to lean your forehead against his. You both smile at each other for a second.
“Okay,” You give in, brushing a strand of sweaty hair away from his face. “But believe that tomorrow is all about you.”
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Text
You look lonely.
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《 VirginRockstar!Eddie munson x GroupieFem!Reader
《 Summary: Eddie finally had it all, success, money, and fame. There was still one tiny problem he had.
《 Warnings: unprotected sex, Eddie is 25. Virgin!Eddie, multiple orgasms, over stimulation. Loss of virginity. Brief mention of birth control, subish eddie. A little spanking.
《 Word count: a little over 8k
A/n: Not proofread ignore any mistakes you come across. Please like, comment, and reblog to show support. Divider credit @cafekitsune
18+ minors dni
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Year 1991
Eddie's life was at an all-time high. He had everything he only dreamt about back home in Hawkins, Indiana. He had money, fame, and adoring fans who loved him. Yet he still never had the opportunity to make a real connection with anyone. He still hasn't found the one.
Which was fine he didn't really need anyone right now. His life was too hectic for a partner. He was traveling all over the world meeting new people every night. He put all of his time and energy into music, and it paid off in the end.
He's surrounded by beautiful models and actresses, but never has he once been lucky enough to be intimate with any of them. He was a nervous and shy guy even after success. He never changed. He was still Eddie. Sweet, shy, and the same nerdy man who loved to play DnD and read Tolkien.
Eddie did have plenty of opportunities to lose his virginity in the past, but he was terrified. Most people would assume he was getting laid left and right. He's read the gossip magazines. He knows what people think of him. While he can talk up a big game, once it's time to get down to it, he just... doesn't.
He runs away. He gets too much in his own head. What if I'm terrible? What if everyone finds out I'm still a virgin at twenty-five? Those thoughts raced in his mind anytime he took a woman out on date, knowing they were expecting to hook up with this crazy rockstar.
His fear of rejection held him back, and now his fear of being a total disappointment was the new cause. He knows there's truly nothing wrong with still being a virgin. it's society who has a problem with it. Normally Eddie wouldn't give two fucks what people thought about him, but this was different. Most days, he actually doesn't care at all or even thinks about it. Until he's alone in bed with nothing but his overthinking brain.
All that would change once he saw you in the crowd. Not blinking. Then he saw you again when he snuck backstage to his dressing room. He managed to somehow sneak past a group of girls without much notice, hiding behind large security guards.
You were standing off to the side next to a crowd full of half-naked women. Eddie didn't mind all of you being there. As a matter of fact, he enjoyed the view after walking off stage. A crowd full of women willing to be his for the night. If only they knew.
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Tonight was your first Corroded Coffin show. You've been waiting months to finally see them live. They have been on their world tour for almost a full year. Eddie Munson, their lead singer and guitarist, has had your eye since you first saw them being interviewed on Headbangers Ball.
The moment you saw those eyes and long hair, you were hooked. Once you found out they were coming to your hometown, you rushed to buy the tickets. You were already familiar with the security at the venue they were playing. So, getting backstage access wouldn't be a problem. One of the perks of making friends with the employees.
You didn't sleep with every band that came into town. Only the ones that peaked your interest. You'd never be caught dead in some glam metal band members' hotel room. You liked the thrasher types. The ones who looked like they hadn't slept in days. The bands who were loud and aggressive. Those were your types. The guys in that scene were generally more sweet and down to earth. Which is why you gravitated towards them. If you were good to them, they were good to you.
Corroded Coffin live at The Whiskey a go-go on October 31st, 1991.
You held the ticket in your hand, shaking with excitement. You were finally going to see them in person. You were actually going to meet Eddie Munson. Being a groupie wasn't something you ever intended on happening. It just did. You loved the music first and then got to love the people who created it second.
You weren't too fond being labeled a groupie. You genuinely enjoyed the company of these rockstars. It was never just about sex. You made a real connection and friendship with most of them. You always knew there would be no romantic feelings between yourself and whoever it was you got to know for the night. Or a few nights.
Only two days until Corroded Coffin would be in your city. You bought two tickets just in case your best friend wanted to tag along. She never really enjoyed this scene the same way you did. There was a thrill and rush you got that she never experienced or cared to. Still, you bought the extra ticket just to be on the safe side. Maybe she'd like to share Eddie with you. If she was down. You don't know why you were so sure he'd give you the time of day. But you were.
You were very sure of yourself that you could have him. Most bands had an after-party at their hotel when the show was over. They'd all gather on the bus with whatever groupie of their choosing and head off. That was your plan. Get backstage. Introduce yourself to Eddie and hope he takes you to the party....if they have one. Party or not, you were going to be his.
You've heard the rumors. You read the magazines and seen him out and about with some of the most famous women in Hollywood. The groupies that walked the sunset strip all had a little tale of how he was in bed. They would describe him as rough or very giving. Sometimes both. Some said he was gentle.
Others would say he was an asshole who kicked you out after he got what he wanted. You know, most of the time, you needed to take what they said with a grain of salt. From your past experiences with other bands. Their little stories were fabricated or over dramatized for the sake of attention.
Make no mistake that you didn't just want to sleep with him. You wanted to be his friend. Talk to him about his music. Have a connection with him. Listen to any crazy stories he might have. You wanted to have a life like Pamela Des Barres.
Where songs are written about you. Getting special treatment and tour the world with them. Have a rockstar fall for you even though that's a big no-no. You don't fall in love. You don't get romantic feelings. No matter how deep of a connection you get with one of them. It's hard not to. You idolize these men and women. But you knew it would only end in heartbreak for you.
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The night of the concert you decided to go early and sweet talk the security so they'll let you backstage. You knew them pretty well by now. They know why you're there and have no problems with it. Your friend didn't tag along like you were hoping, but you're used to it. You'd figure you would chat it up with some of the other girls' backstage. They weren't your favorite to talk to. Too much jealousy and competition amongst them for your liking, but if gave you something to do in the meantime.
-
Eddie had been scrambling around all day long, getting ready for tonight's concert. He made sure his hair looked nice and his clothes were laid out on his hotel bed. He's been hitting the gym a lot more lately. So his clothing choice consisted of no shirt and just jeans half the time. He's got a lot more tattoos since the last tour he has done. A full chest piece and both arms down to his knuckles covered in ink. He looked a little different now compared to just three years ago.
He was nervous. Eddie was always nervous before a show. No matter if there was a crowd of five people or hundreds. He was scared. He puts too much pressure on himself. He compares himself to his idols too often. Something he knows he shouldn't do, but he can't help himself. He was going to the venue early and helping the roadies unpack and set up the equipment.
Eddie figured he'd meet up with the guys and do sound checks and then help his team get everything ready. They were playing at the Whiskey. A venue Eddie was very familiar with. He's spent most of his time in the crowd watching his favorite bands play up on that stage. Eddie never imagined there would come a point he'd be playing up there, too.
Back at the venue, you were talking it up with one girl you've grown pretty close to. You didn't know her personally, but she was at the same shows you always frequented. Her name was Lila, and she looked like she walked right out of a penthouse centerfold. Long bleached blonde hair, big breasts and legs for days. Most of the other girls hated her, but she was always very sweet. She didn't make up one night stand stories to get "popular." If she didn't hook up with a certain guy, then she'd tell you. She never lied. Which is why you've grown to respect her.
"I hope we get to meet Eddie after the show ." She bounced from one heeled foot to the next. A large smile plastered on her face.
"Me too." You chuckled, watching as she struggled to contain her excitement.
"Doesn't matter which one of us takes him home as long as it is not one of those Debbie downers over there." She leaned forward to whisper.
"Why not have us both?" You joked.
Her jaw dropped." Yes! He can have us both."
You shake your head and pull her to walk over out by the side stage. You always got the best view from there. No one shoves or pushes you out the way. Plus, you could be very close to the band. Which is exactly what you wanted. The sound tech guys were busy putting everything together as the roadies were bringing in the equipment.
That's when you noticed him. Hair pulled back in a low ponytail. His bangs are longer, and loose strands of hair fell beside his face. He wasn't wearing a shirt, just pants and a chain around his neck. The tattoos on his arms and chest on full display for you. Eddie was getting the amps on stage with the rest of the crew. You heard them make a joke about which girl in the back they'd pick out for him. But you didn't care about that. You couldn't take your eyes away. He was truly more beautiful in person than on TV.
Eddie glanced your way a few times when he noticed a couple of people off to the side watching. He felt a blush creep its way up to his cheeks when he saw you gawking at him. Eddie still wasn't the best around women if he didn't prep himself first. He was a good flirt, but the moment he noticed they were checking him out, he'd turn beet red. The little blonde standing next to you had her eyes on the road crew.
You saw him make eye contact with you a few times, and your mouth went dry. You've been with plenty of rockstars before, but none of them have ever given you butterflies the way Eddie did. His big brown eyes look straight into yours, and your breath hitches. You tried to elbow Lila and get her attention, but she was too busy checking out a roadie. She was like that.
It didn't matter if they were the ones playing onstage or working for the band. If she found them attractive, she went for it. You nudged and nudged desperately, trying to get her attention as Eddie's eyes never left yours. But all you heard was her giggle next to you as she eyed up and down the guitar tech. "Alright, Ed, time for sound check." You saw Jeff peek his head from around the corner.
You lost her now. Her focus was not on Eddie anymore but his roadie. You wouldn't be surprised if she even stayed to watch the show.
Only an hour until the show starts and you were getting antsy. Lila was gone. She left not too long after the stage was officially set up. You knew where she ventured off to. Didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out. You just wish you weren't alone. There was something so...exciting about tonight. You've been to plenty of rock concerts, but this one was different. You didn't want to experience it alone.
Corroded Coffin were still considered newcomers. Who got very big very fast. There wasn't a magazine on a stand that didn't have Eddie's face on it. From tabloids to Spin magazine. He was on it. The thrill of getting to experience him in person was coursing through your veins.
There was this lump of excitement in your throat. You wanted to scream. Get it all out. You made up your mind that you were going back to his tour bus or hotel room. He was going to be yours for the night. It didn't matter how many women were lined up for his picking. It was going to be you.
Finally, the lights dim, and the crowd has already gathered to their designated spots. You were still off to the side. Gazing up at the smokey harsh purple haze lighting up the stage. There is a backdrop with huge black lettering reading Corroded Coffin hanging up high. Gareth is already at his drum set, setting up for the rest of the guys to make their grand entrance.
Each member emerges from behind the curtain with a roar from this pretty large crowd. Jeff and Grant waved to the sea of people. The crowd is alive, and you can feel it. That electricity is pumping in your veins. The place was packed. Maximum compacity is five hundred, but you know there is way more than that here tonight.
The mic in the middle of the front stage stays empty. Eddie still has yet to come out and introduce his band. The crowd is getting more and more wild. The other members play some instrumental songs to help hold everyone over until he arrives.
The band picks up speed, and the lights switch from a purple haze to red. The entire stage was glowing. The smoke on the stage gets thicker. The crowd forms a mosh pit right off to the side from you. Some of them sneak on stage to dive back into the crowd.
Your eyes have not left the stage. Not once. You kept glancing back from the mic stand to the curtain. You wouldn't lie. You were getting impatient. Extremely impatient. You wish you still had Lila with you so you could have someone to talk to as time passed. Knowing her, you probably won't be seeing her around until the next band is in town.
You blinked, and there he was. A guitar slung over his chest. His hair hanging loose around his shoulders. The shirt he was wearing now tore and cut shows off all of his tattoos. He doesn't say anything. He makes his way to the mic with a cocky smirk on his face. Watching the sea of arms waving out for him. The band never slows. Eddie starts belting out lyrics to their newest single. His voice growling in the mic. You'll never understand how these guys can do this almost every night for months on end.
The veins in his neck buldging out with every passing lyric. The crowd here tonight has never been like this before. There was something so special about witnessing a group with so much energy and passion that it's passed off to the crowd. The floor beneath your feet vibrating. You can't tell if it's from the music or the stampede next to you. Whatever it was, it had you mesmerized.
Your eyes still never left, Eddie. He stopped playing for a short moment to address the crowd. "How is everybody doing tonight?!" The contrast bewildered you. Between his speaking voice and singing voice definitely would give anyone whiplash.
He scanned the crowd, looking at how chaotic it had been since he arrived. Eddie looks off the side and sees you there. Same spot at earlier. You must look utterly hypnotized, and truth be told you were. You couldn't look away. He's got some kind of hold on you. He smirks and looks back to the rest of the audience, but every so often would make eye contact with you.
Song after song, you noticed guitar picks landing by your feet. You hadn't seen the first three times it was done. Too busy watching him thrash away on his guitar. You're surprised it's still able to play after the beating he's given it. He's playing so fast his hand looks like a blur. A pick slapping you in the chest snaps you back to reality. You bend to retrieve it and notice there are now five picks total all by your feet. They're a crimson red with E.M. scratched in the back.
Eddie had been throwing his picks at you the whole time. You hadn't noticed until he plucked one so hard at your chest that you felt it through your t-shirt. He moves over to your side of the stage and crouches down so he's almost eye level with you. He's so close you can touch him if you wanted. Eddie plays the solo of their final song of the night right in front of you. It was like he was playing it for you. Time stood still. Just the two of you and the music. You didn't even realize you stopped breathing until he got up and walked away. Giving you one last look over his should.
Eddie goes back to stand at his microphone. His confidence is through the roof. His stance is proud. "Thank you so fucking much for coming out to see us tonight. We are Corroded Coffin!" He growls that last part out, and the crowd erupt so loud you know your ears will be ringing tomorrow. The vibration on the floor intensified. You were surprised that it hasn't collapsed in yet.
One by one, the members exit the stage. Leaving Eddie to be the last. He looked back at you one last time and gave a little wave. Did he really just wave at you? No must have been to someone else. Definitely not you. You kept telling yourself.
There is no way. He was giving you a lot of attention tonight. Maybe he was? You kept arguing back and forth in your mind as you headed out.
Before you can even try to find the backstage area again, there is a security guard handing you a pass. That was awfully quick, but you don't dwell on it. All you wanted was to find Lila and Eddie.
You rush to the back and see her sitting on a case that holds one of their bigger amps. Her hair is disheveled, and her makeup all smeared. "Where did you go?"
She jumps, "Oh hey!! I got preoccupied."
"How was the show?"
You snort. "It was amazing. They were amazing. He was amazing."
"Babe, that's great. Are you going to the after-party at their penthouse?" Lila goes to stand and smooths down her dress. "The roadie.. I forgot his name told me about it."
"Oh, I'm definitely going. The security guard gave me a pass. I'm sure Eddie told him to give it to me. He had been throwing these at me all night." You go into your pocket to show her one of his picks he had been hitting you with.
Her eyes widened, and a smile spreads across her face. "He wants youuu."
She looked over at the other girls, who were now ease dropping on your conversation. She rolled her eyes and went back to give you a big hug. A bright smile stretched across her face.
"Let's get going. There is another little roadie I got my eye on." She hooks an arm around yours, guiding you to the exit doors.
You don't see Eddie anywhere. He's not out mingling with any of the backstage crew or fans. You figured he was getting cleaned up after the show. He did look very sweaty. His shirt clung to his skin, and his bangs stuck to his forehead. You were positive you would see him at the after party.
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The after-party was at this luxury hotel in the penthouse suite. Jeff, Grant, Gareth, and Eddie all had their own hotel rooms but used this one for mingling after their concert. There were tons of people here. Lila left you behind again the moment she walked through those double doors. She saw her roadie and planted herself in his lap and never got up.
You dabbled in conversation with their crew and had a pretty good talk with Jeff. He was the calm one of the band, and Grant was the funny one. When they got to bickering, it was like watching an old married couple. Grant would say some stupid joke, and Jeff would rub at his temple like he just came down with the worst migraine of his life.
While you were busy conversing with them, you kept scanning the room for Eddie. The sole reason you were even here to begin with. He wasn't here. At least not yet. You were wondering if maybe he found someone else to spend his night with. The thought of that riddled you with disappointment. Was he even the one who gave you the pass?
That didn't stop you from looking. The more you looked for him, the less engaged you were with the two men in front of you. The drink in your hand has become room temperature. More people have now rushed to join the party. The air was thick with smoke. The music was loud, and you started to feel suffocated. You excused yourself from the conversation to go to a less occupied area away from everyone.
As you're making your way past drunk person after drunk person, you see him. Eddie's standing off to the side with a glass in hand that contained a dark liquid. He looks freshly showered. His hair is still a little damp at the ends. You decided to muster up some courage and walk over to where he was tucked away all alone.
"You look lonely." You remark watching his face closely.
He swirls the brown liquid in the glass, causing the ice to clink. "Nah, jus' wanted a moment to cool down." He stared ahead watching the party.
"You know, just one pick would've been enough." You joked, hoping to lighten his mood a little. Eddie was coming off dismissive, but he's was just shy. He's never been good with small talk. As a matter of fact, he hated small talk it always felt forced more than anything.
He snorts, "Sorry bout that you weren't really noticing the first three I plucked your way, though."
"That's fair...."
You eye him and down, taking him all in. He looked good. Eddie notices you checking him out, too. His bites his inner cheek to keep calm. You're looking at him like you want to devour him whole.
"Wanna go somewhere more quiet?" You place a hand on his forearm and lean in a little close.
"It's pretty loud in here. I can't really hear you." You played innocent. You know what you were doing, and Eddie definitely knew what you were doing.
He gulps "Uhhh...sure". He straightens himself up, clearing his throat. He needs to keep his composure. But for how long? Would tonight be the night?
This alway happened he would invite a girl to his room or they would invite him somewhere. Things would get hot and heavy, and right when it was time to fuck he'd kick them out. Too embarrassed to be a disappointment for them. He'd rather be called an asshole than terrible at sex. Tonight? Tonight was going to be different.
He set his drink down by a near table and takes you by the hand leading you out a door you had no idea was there. Eddie walks you down an empty hallway until he's stopping at his room door. He takes his key out and looks back to see you behind him, staring at the fancy carpet. He was nervous but so were you. Just a little. Eddie had a bit of liquid courage in him tonight. He's usually a beer guy but decided to go for something harder to celebrate how great of a show tonight was.
There is a click, and soon he's pushing open the door. "You first." As he bows letting you enter.
You make your way in the room as he flicks on the lights behind you. It was large with a couch facing a king-sized bed. You take your jacket off, and he does the same. Eddies wearing a shirt that if it had anymore holes wouldn't even be considered wearable anymore. It does show off his arms and tattoos, so you're not complaining.
Throwing your jacket on the side of his couch, "You guys were really good tonight."
"Thanks the crowd was fucking insane." Eddie's making himself another drink at the mini bar. "Thought they were gonna go through the floor."
"Want one?" He offers calling over to you.
Shaking your head. "No, I had quit enough earlier, actually."
He nods respectfully at your decline.
Rounding the corner of his bar, he comes to plop down beside you, spilling a little of his drink on him. He's watching you closely, and you've never felt more nervous around anyone else before. You've done this plenty of times. Take a rockstar back to their room. Have some fun, and then stay a little while or leave. No one has ever made your heart skip a beat other than Eddie Munson. Who is now watching you intently. In this moment, you really wish Lila was here too.
You do it. You go right for it. This is why you're here. Why he took you to his room with no amount of hesitation. Leaning forward, you capture his lips with yours in a feverish kiss. You can taste brandy on his mouth as your tongue swips his bottom lip for access. Eddie still holding on to his drink, and the other is firmly planted beside him. You stop coming up for air. His chest is heaving, and his pupils are blown.
Eddies doesn't say anything. He was too caught up on from your kiss. He leans back in the cushions. Letting his legs spread wider apart. You take that as an opportunity to straddle his lap. Eddie stared up at you, and before you could say anything. His plump lips were already on yours. You grind down against him feeling his semi hard cock through his pants. He grunts in your mouth as your tongues fight for dominance.
You press down harder in his lap, desperately looking for any small amount of friction you could get. Wetness is already pooling between your legs. His hands move to grip on your ass hard as he helps you move against him.
You kept thinking to yourself that this wasn't real. You're actually not sitting in Eddie Munson's lap making out in his hotel room. He moans when he feels your hand dip down to rub his cock. Feeling how hard he was getting in his jeans.
Eddie breaks the kiss and stills your movements on him. "Wait, you don't wanna do this with me. He frowns.
"Why wouldn't I?" You're confused. Does he not like you? Does he not find you attractive and is only saying this to be nice so you'd leave? So many thoughts rush through your head in just a couple of seconds.
"I dunno. I just think you might be let down a little." His voice is small. He's not the big loud rockstar that was screaming just hours ago.
Eddie still won't dare look at you. Too afraid of rejection even to this day if he told you the truth.
Your brows furrow, and you laugh in disbelief, "Why would I be let...down? "
He rolls his eyes and lets out an exasperated groan. He moves to get up, and you go to sit back in your spot on the couch.
Pinching the bridge of his nose. His lips were in a thin line. He was annoyed and embarrassed. Mostly with himself.
".....fuck I guess now is the time." He muttered under his breath.
"Ive never done this before." Eddie waved from himself to you. Hoping you got what he was trying to say so he didn't have to blurt it all out.
"Huh, do what? You're still so confused, but you're trying to understand him.
Not only did his music mean so much to you, but he did as well. Corroded Coffin was the first band you truly clung on to. The first band that you actually bought a ticket to see instead of sneaking in and stealing a seat. Seeing him struggle to find his words was truly tough to watch. You have so much respect and admiration for him. The last thing you want is to see him upset over something.
"It's okay Eddie whatever it is, you can tell me. It won't make me think any less of you. You tried to reassure him.
He takes a deep breath, "Fucking hell I can't believe I'm about about tell you this...I'm a virgin."
You blinked back, thinking he was just messing around. He was known to pull little pranks on people. "Shut up, you're lying. I've heard the rumors."
"Yeah, that's what they are, rumors, all lies." He chews on his thumb nail out of nervousness. Would you laugh at him now? Is he still this amazing rockstar? "It won't make me think any less of you." Yours words ring in his head, but were they true?
"B-but you've gone out with like very famous women." It's not that you didn't believe him or that this was a bad thing. He was a famous rockstar who could have anyone he wanted.
"Nothing ever happened, sure. I tried to get to know them and have a serious relationship, but most of them just used me to shed whatever good girl image they had going." Eddie confessed. There was a hint of sadness in his voice.
"So... You're telling the truth?"
"Yeah, I understand if you wanna leave." His tone was harsh, but he didn't mean for it to come off that way. He is getting defensive to protect himself from humiliation.
"I don't wanna go." You move to stand in front of him. "Do you want me to leave?"
"No," Eddie's voice is barely above a whisper. He finally looks at you, and his face softens when he sees no amount of judgment coming from you.
"Let's get on the bed." You push him so he flops back on the mattress. Standing between his legs hanging off the side, bare feet firmly planted on the floor. His shoes having long been discarded.
Slowly, you strip yourself of your top, pulling it above your head as he watched your tits bounce as you lift the shirt. You weren't wearing a bra, and you were thankful for that. One less article of clothing to getting in the way. Next was your jeans, and you carefully inched them down your legs along with your panties. Eddies eyes stayed glued to you as you became completely bare before him.
"You ever touched a girl before?" You crawl on top of him sitting just below his cock straining painfully against his zipper.
He scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Yes, I've touched tits before."
"Not tits..here." You laugh, taking his hand and putting it between your legs. He lets out a shakey breath. Feeling the wetness between your legs as you feel his calloused fingers explore your entrance. Your slick coating his fingertips, getting them nice and sticky.
"Oh," he marveled, his eyes focusing on where his hand currently was.
"I'm gonna make you feel so good, Eddie." You purred.
You bite back a moan as he continued to explore at your opening. Your hand gripped at his wrist.
"Fuck." He cursed under his breath. Your pussy felt so inviting. Dripping wet like it was crying out for him. Begging and pleading to be fucked.
His finger glided up between your folds until they're grazing your aching clit. "Mmm, that feels so good." You praised and move both of your hands to place them on his chest.
Eddies watching and studying your face. His fingers rubbing sloppy slow circles on your throbbing clit. Your slick dripping down your inner thighs. You moan out his name and it takes everything in Eddie not to cum on the spot.
"Take your clothes off." You breathed heavy, feeling yourself already getting close.
He sat up quickly as you helped remove his shirt and pants. Leaving him in nothing but his blue checkered boxers. Tiny beads of sweat already forming on his face and tattooed chest. You take a moment to admire the dark inck, covering him almost up all the way up to his neck. You know It must have taken hours or even days to finish.
He lays there waiting. Watching and waiting for your next move or instructions. Whatever you were going to do, he was ready for it. Anything you wanted, he's all ears. Eddie was yours for the night as he wasn't going to chicken out this time. No running.
His cock forming a large tent in his underwear already. You can see a small wet patch from his pre cum. "Can I kiss you?"
He nods, moving forward to plant his lips to yours. You giggle, "Not on the mouth."
"Im talking about right there." You run your thumb over his leaking tip that's trapped in his boxers. A mischievous grin creeping up on your face.
Eddie looks a little dazed. Like he can't believe this actually happening to him right now. "Y-yeah."
You pull his boxers down letting his cock free. His tip was an angry shade of red, precum dripping down his cock. Your mouth salivating at his length. His cock was thick with prominent running down his shaft. It laid nicely against his belly button.
"You have such a pretty cock." You cooed taking his length in your hand. Eddie hisses from your touch. He's so sensitive that any amount of attention will send him just about over the edge.
His head falls back, and you can see his Adam's apple bounce when he swallows. He blows out a breath of air, trying to focus.
"Oh shit." He whispered to himself.
You take the opportunity to lick a strip up the side of his cock. He groans deep from his chest. He was going to cum he just knows it. With his cock still in your hand you slap the head of his cock on your tongue tasting the saltiness of his pre cum. Wrapping your lips around the head, you swirl and suck on him gently. Eddie throws an arm over to cover up face. His other hand clawing at the white duvet.
"I-if you don't stop, I'm not gonna last much longer." He managed to stammer out. Your mouth too busy working on his sensitive tip to even care.
You remove his cock to speak, "That's kinda the point."
Wrapping your soft lips back around him. You suck much harder this time, and his hips involuntarily buck. You smile, feeling a boost of confidence you are getting this type of reaction out of him. Felt like getting a little cocky. you decided to take him further in your mouth until he hit the back of your throat.
His abdomen flexing as his release builds. Your throat swallowing around his length. You pull him almost all the way out before taking him in your mouth fully again. Your head bobbing up and down his shaft. His hips bucking up again making his cock go deeper in your throat. You gag slightly as spit drips down your chin.
Eddies still hiding his face from you. His cheeks flushed. "Fuck....I'm gonna cum."
You bob your faster. You take absolutely no sympathy on him. You want him to finish. You want to taste and feel his cum sliding down the back of your throat. You say something in audible as your mouth is currently stuffed full. Your jaw is hurting and going slack. But you don't care.
Your main goal for right now is not only to make him cum, but make him do it as many times as he can handle. With no warning, Eddie grabs your hair and keeps your head in place while thrusting up in your mouth, making it difficult for you to catch your breath. Your nose brushes against the soft curls of his with each thrust he gave. His hips raising off the bed to push his cock in the back of your throat.
"Mmphf, ooh shit." He grunts, shooting ropes of cum down your throat. The saltiness of his cum is all you can taste. Eddies relentlessly fucking your mouth the way he wants to fuck your pussy as he rides out his orgasm.
Every low groan emitted deep from his chest causes your pussy to flutter, sending a shiver down your spine.
He lets go of you, and you remove him from your throat with a loud pop. His cum and your saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth.
"Christ, I'm sorry." Eddie apologized, He really tried not to cum so suddenly. He really really did.
You coughed a little, finally able to breathe normally again. "It's okay."
"Yeah, but... what about you?" He asked as guilt was starting to set in. He didn't want you leaving with ache between your legs that wasn't satisfied.
"Who said we were done?" You smile deviously at him. His cock still semi hard on his belly. You lay beside him, running your fingernails against his length. He gasps and lets out a whimper.
The difference between this Eddie and the one on stage is something you'll never forget. His cock twitches and you can feel him getting hard under your touch.
"Scoot up on the bed for me." You instructed, wanting him to get nice and comfortable before continuing.
Eddie listened and moved higher up on the bed until his head hit the pillows.
You move to straddle him. His cock sitting just above your pussy. He's looking at you in awe. Like you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, and he's completely at your mercy. And you are. And he is. As of right now, if you told him to run naked down the hallways, he'd do it. Eddie would do anything you told him to.
You rise and scoot forward some more so his cock is between your wet fold. You rock back and forth on him. He moan as you rubbed yourself on his cock. Your aching clit is finally getting some much needed attention. His chest is rising and falling rapidly.
Eddie moves his hands so they're holding on tight to your hips. You grind on him harder and faster. Your juices soaking his thick cock. That's it he was going to cum again. It was too much. What was left of his cum you didn't clean off was currently making a mess all over your pussy.
"F-fucking! hell." Eddie breathed, his fingers digging deep into your skin. He could feel another orgasm approaching him.
You felt yourself growing closer, too. The veins on his cock pulsating between your legs. Your pussy rubbing against him so deliciously. His tip nudging at your clit. Your legs tremble. Eddie bites down hard on his bottom lip almost drawing blood. His eyes glossed over. He was in pure extacy.
Eddie couldn't get enough. The feeling of his cock gliding between your slippery wet folds. It was driving him wild. If just by doing this felt incredible. Then he can't even comprehend what it must feel like to be buried in your pussy.
You had him drooling and unable to think straight. Nothing his own hand and a dirty magazine has ever been able to accomplished. Whatever his own imagination concocted was nothing compared to you. Nothing at all.
"You....this--fuck I can't even talk." Eddies whimpering and whining under you. He has a vice grip going from your ass and back to your hips. Moving them to hold on for dear life or smoothing over the softness of your skin.
"Oh my god!" he croaked. The bed rocking back and forth as you grinded on his cock. The pictures on the wall shake as you go faster. He watches as your breasts bounce, putting him in a trance.
Your climax quickly approaching, but you try to push it back. You wanted him to cum. You'll get yours later.
You feel him twitch again, and he curses under his breath. The grip he has on your hips starts to hurt. "I'm cuming...oh fuck I'm cuming." You haven't stopped moving as his cum shoots out onto his stomach and chest. Tears spring to his eyes and pour down his cheeks. Both of your minds are clouded. You stop grinding, letting him come down from his high.
He lays there limp arms out stretched after letting you go.
"I..youre so fucking amazing." Eddie finally spoke up.
You move back off him letting his cock rest up before you continued anymore. If only others could see him right now. Completely fucked out and you've only just begun. His skin is shiny with a sheen of sweat in the lighting of his hotel room. Eddie would never forget this moment or you for that matter. If he could take you on tour with him and never let you leave, he would.
"Hey, pretty boy, you okay?" You coaxed, running a hand down his cheek.
He doesn't speak, still trying to collect himself. "Mmhmm." Was all you managed to get out of him. His cock was surprisingly still hard.
"Are you ready to feel me now?" You leaned over to whisper in his ear. Licking a strip up his throat before biting down, leaving a tiny little bruise behind.
"Fuck yes." His husky voice as he replied. His eyes are closed, preparing himself for you.
Eddie was ready for this. More than ready. He made himself wait long enough out of fear and anxiety.
"Need your cock so bad." You playfully whine. Hearing that drove him crazy. He doesn't think he'll ever tire listening to someone beg for his cock from now on. Not after tonight.
You smile and move to lean up. Taking his length in your hand and aligning him up at your opening. His breath hitches as you take just his tip in you. Eddies mouth hangs open as he watches you slowly sink down on his length.
You take him inch by inch teasing him as you do. He's so thick it's going to take time adjusting to his size. You don't think you're ever going to feel as full as you will tonight. Somehow, you wonder if Eddie truly knows just how big he is. He has to have an idea? Right?
You continue sinking down on his cock while its spreading you open. It was pleasure and a little pain feeling him splitting you open like this. Your pussy dripping for him. "Ooh, Eddie."
He's biting hard on his closed fist. Fighting hard to contain whatever animalistic moan is threatening to escape. The tip of his cock is a shade of red that's almost purple. The veins in his neck protruding out.
"Please fuck me." He begged you.
Eddie Munson just begged you to fuck him. He's actually begging.
you most definitely are not forgetting tonight and will most certainly never tell anyone. Not even Lila. Sorry, she had a chance to be here and instead picked a roadie. The boost of confidence that just surged through your body after hearing him.
"I-i don't care what you do jus fuck me oh fff-god please!" Eddie whined as he rushed to feel your pussy hugging around his cock.
"Relax, I'm g'nna fuck you." You teased.
Finally you bury him deep inside you until his cock has fully disappeared. You both sigh in unison at the relief. You sit still, allowing yourself to get used to the intrusion. You roll your hips, taunting him a little.
"Sweetheart, dont tease me. I need you." He begs you some more.
"Mmf! god!, you're so big." You whimper. Eddie's cock stretched your sensitive walls the way no one else ever has.
You brace your hands on his abdomen. Eddie, out of nowhere, slaps your ass hard. He was growing extremely impatient all of a sudden. Grabbing your attention immediately. You nod, blowing out a breath of air. Rolling your hips some more before lifting them up and slamming yourself back down on him. His pubic hair tickling at your clit. Your both moaning together as his hips thrust up to meet yours. His tip hit that spongey spot on your walls.
"Fuck fuck... it hurts", Eddie cried with a strangled moan.
"Want me to stop?" You asked stopping yourself from gliding your pussy on his length.
"No! Don't stop!" He half shouts.
"I like it."
You quirk an eyebrow at him. His eyes look into yours, pleading for you to keep going. You lift yourself up and gingerly sink back down on his cock.
"Faster." Eddie demanded with a croak in his voice. You don't hesitate for a second. You lift up and start bouncing on his length at a frantic pace.
The springs in the mattress squeaked from how hard you rode him. Eddies face twisting up, and you know he's about to cum once more. He's blabbering nonsense beneath you. Mumbling to himself, "it hurts... so good," and "You're so tight."
He moves one of his hands to grip and spank your ass harshly. You know he is probably mimicking what he's seen in porn but you dont mind. You enjoyed it. Your pussy making a loud wet schlick noise as Eddie's cock stretched you open.
"Ahh! Eddie." You moan out for him.
"Keep fucking me.....dont stop. Dont f-fking stop." He grunts. His eyes half lidded as he watched you ride his cock. "Goddamn, you're wet!"
You feel your release building back up. You reach a hand between your legs as Eddie watched you. You rub tight circles on your sore bud.
He leans up on his elbows, looking on as you play with yourself. He was getting close again. Another orgasm threatening to spill out of him. Eddie is surprised he's about to give you another. he knows he's about to cum for the third time tonight.
"W-wanna cum again for you." Eddie lets out a small whimper. He sounded so needy.
"Oooh baby." You mewl. Your mouth creating an O shape. Your eyes are closed tight, and your thighs shake. You feel that coil in your belly tightening. "Spank me again." You begged him.
Eddie does as he's told and slaps your ass hard, causing it to ripple. The sound of skin slapping bouncing off the wallpapered room.
He feels your walls pulsing around his cock and he thrusts up repeatedly hitting that spongey spot inside you just right. Your hand moving faster circles on your clit as you struggle to keep riding him.
Eddie keeps thrusting his cock up in your pussy over and over again. It doesn't take much longer before your orgasm is ripping through your body. You let out moan that almost resembles a scream. He's watching you come undone before him. A hint of pride hits him, knowing it was him who did that to you. You won't be surprised if hotel security is called to check and see if any is hurt. The noises coming from this room would cause anyone to be concerned.
Your nails digging in his chest while his cock helps you ride out your orgasm. Your body spasms above him. You lean forward to bury your face in the crook of his neck. You stay like that while Eddies sweaty skin and leftover cologne invading your nose. Sitting back up your mind feeling foggy and your face tingles. White dots appearing in front of you.
"Sweetheart I-I can't cum inside you." Eddie rasped his face tear stained. His eyes look at you sadly.
"I'm on the pill it's okay." You reassured.
He nods and you move your hips to easily ride on his cock. Your pussy clenching up around his length was sending him over the edge. You were so tight. So wet. His balls are completely saturated in your creamy juices.
You feel his length twitch against your walls. Just a few more pumps of his cock and he's spilling his load for the third time. Eddie cums so deep and hard inside of you he forgets how to breathe for a moment.
His toes curling and eyes go crossed. His mouth hanging wide open. He shoots a hand up to press against the headboard, bracing himself. You're relentless on top of him. Bouncing on his cock the bed is smacking the wall with so much force.
"Fuking christ." He grunts, his head digging back into the pillow. His back arching. You don't stop bouncing up and down on him like a bunny until you've milked him dry. His cock growing more in pain by the minute.
"C-cant cum again" Eddie pleaded. His cock hurt and it was now unbearable. Not like how it felt before when the pain was enjoyable. He can feel himself, getting close again.
Eddie just can't do it. He wants to, but he can't. He wants to fill you up with his cum again. He wants to make a mess of you the same way you did for him. Unfortunately his cock is too worn out and and sensitive to give you another.
You listened and halted.
"No more." He breathed.
"Want me to stop this time?"
Eddie nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. Regretfully, he had to stop. He's drained in more ways than one.
His face all the way to his neck is beet red. If his chest wasn't covered in tattoos, you'd guess he was that color all over.
He lets out a shuddered breath, running a hand in his hair. You take the opportunity to carefully remove him from inside you. Wincing a little at the sudden loss. His cum dripping out of your pussy and down your trembling legs a little getting on him as well. Eddie is quivering beneath you. There is a trail of his cum left behind on his abdomen and chest from his previous orgasm.
You laid back down next to where he was. His cock sore and tired from the abuse you just gave it. You and Eddie lay there not speaking for a while. The only sounds are low hums coming from the A/C. Your breathing evening out.
"Ya okay?" You asked softly, breaking the silence.
"Yeah, I...I feel fan-fuckin-tastic, actually." Eddie laughed, recalling what just happened.
"Well, I should probably get ready to go now." You announce trying to hide the sadness in your voice.
"You're not gonna stay a little longer?" He moves to sit up.
"D-did you want me to stay?" You eyed him curiously.
"....well, yeah." His voice now very horse from grunting for so long. He shifts to look you in the eyes. Letting you know he's serious.
"You can sleep here if you want and leave in the morning. Check out isn't until 11:am."
"Oh okay..I'll stay." You smiled over to him.
"Cool! Hey, did you want to hear this new song I'm working on?" Eddie exclaimed, trying to stand on his wobbly legs.
He carefully walks over to his guitar, still completely naked, and his hair disheveled.
"Is that even a question?" You pick up his discarded grungy t-shirt throwing it over your head. You never realized how cold his room felt until now.
For the rest of the night, Eddie spent the majority of the time playing you little snippets of songs he's been writing. He'd ask you for honest feedback, which you gave.
"Ya know, I'm definitely gonna be writing a song about you." He stated, strumming lazily on his guitar.
Your eyes widened as you laughed at what you thought was a joke." You're serious?"
"As a heart attack." Eddie smiled before getting off the couch, tackling you back on the bed and attacking your neck. Having you both giggling like maniacs.
After this night, you became a legend in your own right. You swore you'd never tell a soul about this, but It didn't take long after the song was officially released for everyone to put two and together. Eddie kept his word about writing a song after you. He didn't mention you were his first, but that's okay. That can be your little secret together. The best kept secret.
Corroded Coffin would go off to win two grammys and headline stadium tours. You went to see them when they came into town, and Eddie gave you the VIP treatment. You promised yourself you wouldn't catch feelings. That was hard to do when he would serenade you in his hotel room.
Eddie was too charming and caring to avoid any of that. You knew better, and you curse yourself for even going against your own set of rules. You were sure Eddie didn't feel the same. He just had a special bond with you after you took his virginity. He definitely didn't possess any true feelings for you besides admiration and friendship. Or did he? Only time will tell.
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sociorafe · 4 months
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CAUGHT RED HANDED — jj.maybank
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pairing: jj maybank & fem!reader
summary: keeping your relationship a secret has been pretty easy so far, but when the both of you get carried away one day, it’s hard to defend yourselves when you get caught by fellow pogues.
warnings: making out, marking, dry humping
author’s note: requested by anon, thank you, i had fun writing this! also i just realised that my blog’s aesthetic is rafe and yet somehow i have more jj content lol. oh well. i hope you guys enjoy <3 feedback is appreciated!
taglist: @rafetopia @rvfecamerons @drudyslut @drewstarkeyslut
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“Y’know,” you mumble out breathlessly as JJ sucks on the soft skin of your neck. “They could come back any minute.”
You feel JJ smile into his wet kisses, your hands threading into his blonde hair, gently tugging at the roots when he sucks on your sweet spot. He grumbles against your neck.
“What?” You ask, eyes fluttering closed as his lips begin sucking and teeth nibbling. You’re 100% positive that he’ll leave marks and you’re not sure how you’ll explain it to the others. Bad mosquito bite? Maybe a bad reaction to some new lotion? Please, since when did you buy new lotion?
“Jay…” you shift in his lap, your barely covered core rubbing ever so lightly against his crotch. You can feel him through his cargo shorts… so, so, so big. “S-stop. You gotta-gotta stop. Jay, baby. I can’t have you mark me up.”
JJ pulls away with a pop! from your neck. His eyes sparkle as he stares at his handy-work. “And why not? I think I did a pretty good job.”
You roll your eyes, hands sliding out from his hair to rest behind his bare shoulders— his t-shirt thrown somewhere behind you. “You do realise who we’re friends with, right? They literally came up with ‘Pogues don’t mack on other Pogues’. We’re literally breaking that rule and you’re making it obvious.”
JJ hums in thought, “What they won’t know won’t hurt them.”
You suppose he’s right, but still… the others could be back at any moment. They only went out to get some beer and food— a twenty minute errand at the most.
The angel on your shoulder tells you to call it quits before you get caught, but the devil is speaking louder; a few more minutes won’t hurt, in fact, you’ll enjoy this moment a lot more if you kept going.
“Come on,” JJ slides his hands to your hips, gently squeezing the supple flesh as his fingers toy with the waistband of your lacy underwear. “They’ll be arguing over what food to buy anyway, we have plenty of time.”
And with that, it seems he’s convinced you to keep going.
JJ smiles up at you before capturing your lips against his. You turn your head slightly to deepen the kiss and a rogue moan echoes in your throat as you feel his cock twitch beneath you. It feels like torture not having him inside you, so the next best thing is to grind against him until your body feels like putty.
Your hips move slowly at first, feeling the thickness of him through his shorts drives you crazy and you open your mouth slightly to allow JJ to slide his tongue in. You drop a hand from his shoulder to trail down his chest and torso, your own stomach tensing when you feel the hard muscles underneath your fingertips.
JJ pulls away briefly, allowing the two of you to catch your breath; his lips turning red from the force of his kisses.
“Look at you, baby.” He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip as he watches you grind against his erection. It takes everything in him not to flip you over and make you cry out his name. “Could watch you all day—“
His words get cut off by a loud slam.
You stop your movements abruptly, heart hammering in your chest. “What was that?”
Another loud slam and muffled voices now reach your ears. “Fuck! They’re back!” You push off JJ in lightning speed, your head snapping in every direction to find your shorts. “Where the fuck are my shorts?!”
JJ scrambles up from the sofa, diving towards his strewn t-shirt lying on the floor near your feet. His eyes practically bulge out of his head as he tries and helps you find your shorts but for some fucking reason they’ve vanished.
“Now is not the time for things to go missing. Where are they?” You hiss at him. Your heart is beating erratically in your chest.
“I don’t know!” JJ is picking cushions up, books up, pieces of furniture and your shorts are still nowhere to be found. “Look, hey. Just sit on the sofa, put a pillow on your lap and pretend to look comfy. I’ll sit over here and just… sit.”
You freak out at his idea but drop down on the sofa when several footsteps sound from down the hall.
“Hey, we got so much food. Kie and John B didn’t know what to get so… uhhh what’s going on?” Pope looks between you and JJ, one hand on the back of the sofa as he studies the two of you.
Sarah moves into the room next, her eyes landing on your face before swivelling to JJ’s and squinting at his hair. “What’s up with your hair, JJ?”
JJ swipes at his hair until he thinks it looks normal again. It does not.
John B and Kie file in next, the bag of food drops from Kie’s hand and she tries not to laugh. Whereas John B is holding a box crate of beer and if he dares to drop it you know you’ll get the blame for causing a distraction.
“What the hell did you two do?” Kie always figures things out first. “And don’t lie. It’s obvious you two did something. Spill.”
You look over at JJ and he shakes his head. “Nothing. We were just talking the whole time you guys were out.”
You wince at his poor excuse but from the way Pope shrugs his shoulders you think you’ve gotten away with it.
“Yeah, I’m not buying that.” Sarah says, arms folding over her chest. “I mean, if you two were just talking, then why is JJ’s shirt inside out and Y/N, why are your shorts hanging off the back of the couch?”
“Oh.” Is all you have to say. Well. That’s that then. Relationship exposed or whatever.
“Yeah, I’m not dealing with this.” John B turns on his heels and walks back outside with the beer, Pope just nods and follows him. Kie and Sarah give each other a knowing look.
“Pogues don’t mack on other pogues, remember?” Kie says, her head tilting at you but her smile says she’s not even remotely bothered. “Just don’t do it on the sofa next time, we gotta sit there.”
You and JJ nod your heads so quickly you feel as if they’re going to fall off. You both watch Kie leave the room, Sarah trailing behind so slowly but stops just before she’s out of sight. She leans against the wall and points to your neck, “Nice work, JJ, but Y/N you got to cover that up.” Her voice is soft, low, almost as if she doesn’t want the others hearing so you don’t get even more embarrassed. “I’ve got some makeup in John B’s room, use some of that.”
You nod your head, mouthing thank you. Once she’s gone back outside, you stand from the sofa and make your way over to JJ. You slap him on the back of his head. “Ow! What was that for?” He’s rubbing the spot you hit him on.
You stalk out of the room. “That’s for marking me up, dingbat.”
“I love you, though!” He calls from the living room.
“Yeah whatever.” You shout back from John B’s room. “I love you, too.”
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Copyright to @sociorafe 2023.
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lisired · 1 month
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change your mind yet?
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pairing: haechan x (f) reader
genre/warnings: smut, enemies to lovers-esque, choking, spit kink, haechan’s lowkey a cocky piece of shit, he calls you a bitch Lol
summary: You’re going to kill him. You swear, You’re going to kill him. how did Liu Yangyang accidentally tell Lee Donghyuck—your greatest enemy—that you think he’s hot and that you’ve been in a dry spell recently? Now you have to avoid the inevitable confrontation, and worst of all, deal with the most stubborn person alive (who ironically thinks that you’re the most stubborn person alive).
word count: 4.6k
a/n: very much an oldie… not so sure about a goodie but i do love the ending. i had written this for a friend lol
You love him to bits, but Liu Yangyang is not your favorite friend right now.
Fairly, you one-hundred percent blame him for the predicament you’re currently in. You know he can be a blabbermouth at times and wouldn’t do it on purpose, but there’s no way you’d let him get away with quote-unquote accidentally telling your mortal enemy that you think he’s hot, and that you’ve been having trouble getting off.
It was yesterday evening that you were on FaceTime with your best friend, simply conversating as per usual. You were ranting comfortably to Yangyang about your troubles and how sexually frustrated you are, and he suggested you getting laid. That’s how the topic of Lee Donghyuck came. He was suggesting people, and when he asked you if you thought Donghyuck was hot, you replied yeah, but I wouldn’t touch his dick with laboratory safety gloves.
Fast-forward some hours later, he’s consentfully telling your mutual friend Renjun about your conversation, in hopes of playing matchmaker and finding someone for you to fuck. The problem? Donghyuck was around, and somehow overheard everything except the part about you saying that you’d never touch his egotistical dick.
So now you’re on campus, avoiding your egotistic mortal enemy like the plague.
Why do you dislike Donghyuck? The answer’s simple, he’s one of those guys. The ones that think they own the world, and that it revolves around them. The ones that think they can have any and every person they want, and treat people’s hearts like dirt. In short, you don’t think he’s a good person, no matter how hot he is.
When your final class rolls around, you think you might’ve successfully dodged him. You had another class with him today, but for some reason he was a no-show. Not that you care, his lack of presence was relieving. Then, you see him stroll into your Language Arts class, and the bright red cherry on top? He’s quick to snatch the seat directly next to yours. Oh, brother.
“Hey,” Donghyuck whispers. “Let’s talk.”
Your heart is racing, but you think you manage to conceal it. “In the middle of class?”
He shrugs, “Afterwards.”
You’re running out of here the second your professor dismisses you.
So, Donghyuck cornered you.
There’s no going anywhere as long as he has you like this, backed up against a wall, his hands on either side of you, and his gaze practically rooting you in place. You feel like you’re being stared down by Medusa, still as stone as you look into his eyes.
“So, let’s talk,” he grins, tilting his head. “A little birdie tells me you think I’m hot, you’re under a dry spell, and that you’ve been having trouble making yourself cum lately.”
“Did you hear the part where I said I wouldn’t touch your egotistical dick with laboratory safety gloves?”
“Then it’s a good thing that I don’t need my dick to have your thighs shaking, huh,” you’re blushing, actually blushing, cheeks aflame and your skin all hot. To make matters worse, Donghyuck’s hands move from beside you to sitting pretty on your waist, not moving lower or higher, cool texture of his rings pressing gently into your skin. The contact has you in an internal frenzy, but you chalk it up to you simply being touch-starved. “Don’t you see these lips, baby?”
Alas, you do see them. With his face as close as it is to yours, you can’t help but see them. They’re pretty and plush, kissable, and kind of do look like they could eat—no, no, no, no. You’ve been with your share of guys like Donghyuck, ones that like to talk about how good they are, yet are severely disappointing in reality. For you to even be considering sleeping with him just goes to show that you’ve struck rock bottom.
“D-don’t call me that,” you curse yourself for stammering, because he only finds it amusing.
“Why not? I think you like it, baby,” Donghyuck teases, “is that the problem? You like me, but you don’t want to like me? You don’t like that you know I could make you feel good?”
You loosen your gaze, unable to bare eye contact with him any longer, “Fuck you, Donghyuck.”
“Fuck me your fucking self,” he grabs your chin, making you look at him. If you can see anything in his eyes, it’s the unmistakable gleam of lust, so dark yet so tempting. “You want it, don’t you?”
God dammit, you do want it. But you refuse to have your name crossed out on his checklist, to be another notch in his belt. You know it would only boost his ego to have seduced the most stubborn person alive into fucking him, and you absolutely refuse to let that happen.
“No.”
Donghyuck raises his eyebrow, “No?”
“No,” you repeat.
You don’t know how you expected him to react, but he takes it coolly, dropping his hands and stepping away. Aw no, did you hurt his ego? The thought almost makes you laugh.
“Okay, but you know where to find me when you change your mind,” He smirks, and you hate how confident he sounds. Not if, but when. When you change your mind.
He strolls away, and you let him. You have bigger fish to fry, and you refuse to let some grade A fuckboy get in your head.
Unfortunately, you are not as in control of your thoughts as you’d like. This is bad, really fucking bad, you think. Last night, you actually successfully managed to cum on your own. That should be a good thing, but the reason you came is absolutely humiliating. An embarrassing, taking-it-with-me-to-the-grave secret.
You may or not may not have came to the thought of Donghyuck. How his fluffy hair would look clamped to his forehead, or how his forehead would look dripping with sweat. Imagining his fingers replacing your own, fingering you with his rings on, the coolness of them against your skin. But what really did it was probably the image of him between your thighs that was planted in your brain the second he offered himself to you. You thought of what good his lips could do, and how they’d look dripping all wet.
This is fucking terrible. You haven’t came in god knows how long, and the one time you do after forever, it’s because of the man you’ve sworn to hate until the day you die. Usually this is something you’d rant to your best friend about, but after what happened the last time you told him about your sexual frustrations, you decide you’re going to keep this one to yourself. If Donghyuck ever heard you came to the thought of him eating you out, he’d literally never in a million years ever let you live it down.
Today’s a new day, but you haven’t been able to shake off the shame, particularly because tonight’s Renjun’s party, and being one of his best friend’s, Donghyuck will undoubtedly be there. He’s posted it on his story and everything, not that you were checking. You overheard Yangyang talking about it. But either way, you don’t know if you’ll be able look him in the eye again.
“It’s a good thing you’re going out again,” Yangyang assures, walking next to you as you two stroll into the party, “maybe you’ll meet someone else to help you get out of your dry spell.”
He’s right. This is your chance to get laid, get over whatever that was with Donghyuck, and move on. You’re like, ninety-nine point nine percent convinced you’re only attracted to him out of sheer desperation. The measly zero point one percent comes from you being aware that you’ve thought he was attractive long before yesterday happened, but whatever. Forget it.
So you nod in agreement. Soon enough, you’ve settled with the party atmosphere. You’ve had a drink but you’re not drunk, and you’ve tried socializing but everyone seems so not your style, which is insane, because Donghyuck isn’t your style either. You don’t think. No, he’s not.
This is worse than you initially suspected. You can’t find anyone, and Donghyuck’s still running through your mind, being a complete and utter distraction and he’s not even here—
Speaking of the devil himself, “Hey.”
You spoke too soon.
“Ohmygod, if you’re here to try and seduce me again, I’m not interested,” you groan, hoping he gets the message and leaves you the fuck alone. At the same time you really don’t, but you definitely think you should.
Donghyuck raises his hands, “But I’m egotistical. I just came here to invite you to a game of truth of dare with the gang, lighten up a lil, won’t ya?”
You sigh. “Where?”
He leads you to the room where everyone is, and you make sure to scoot next to Ningning and Jennie, refusing to sit anywhere besides Donghyuck. All you hope now is that the bottle doesn’t land on you after him.
A couple of rounds fly by, and you’re still safe. You’re having fun, and the thought of him escapes your mind with ease. Even when the bottle does land on you, he doesn’t dare you to do anything crazy that you thought he would.
After Yangyang’s turn, the bottle lands on you. You’re not worried, because Yangyang’s your best friend, he wouldn’t dare you to do anything stupid.
Then he does exactly that.
“Seven minutes in heaven with Donghyuck!”
You’re going to kill him. You’re mentally plotting his murder right now. How you’re going to do it, when, and where you’ll hide his body. If he suspiciously winds up missing, you’re more than likely the reason why.
“Pucker up, buttercup,” Yangyang blows you a kiss.
You spit back, “Shut up, bubble guts.”
You hear him gasp in offense, but whatever he says is cut off by Donghyuck.
“Come on, babes. I can hear your lips calling my name,” he teases, and you groan, clutching your fist. You guess there’s no way out of this. Well, technically there is, but Renjun let Yangyang choose the punishment and he decided to make anyone who refused to do a dare eat a spoonful of sour cream. Mind you, sour cream by itself is disgusting, and this is probably why he and his stomach are frequently at war, so your safest option is getting in that room with Donghyuck for seven minutes. You don’t even have to kiss, you can just let everyone think you did.
So you follow him into the bathroom connected to Renjun’s room, and the second the door shuts, he has you backed into yet another wall. He grins, “Change your mind yet?”
You stand your ground. “No.”
“That’s fine, we can make out in the meantime and then see how you feel after seven minutes.” he replies nonchalantly.
Even though you’ve been thinking about it, you grimace. “Gross.”
“What? It’s not my dick, why do you act like you hate me anyways? Not that I’m really complaining, I like when things are hard.”
“Bet you do,” you grumble. “And if I’m acting, then I must be Viola Davis.”
“Eh, I’d give you Keanu Reeves.”
You glare. “On second thought, I’m almost willing to kiss you if it means you’ll keep quiet.”
“Well you’re in luck,” Donghyuck grins, “because that and giving head are the only ways to silence me.”
You cave in soon later, letting him pin you to the wall, your hands above your head as he kisses you hungrily. It kills you to learn that he’s a great kisser, because that means he’s actually good at something other than running his mouth and being the bane of your existence twenty-four seven. Though you don’t know how that’s possible, he’s gentle yet rough. Caring in his movement, though passionate in them too. The way he’s kissing you, you’d think he loved you.
In spite of your obvious attempts to try and touch him, to maybe run your fingers through his hair or hold his cheeks in your hands, Donghyuck doesn’t let you move. You can feel the teasing grin bloom from his lips, and conclude that it’s intentional.
Never in a million years did you think you’d be french kissing Lee Donghyuck of all people, yet here you are. You can’t say you don’t like it, though. That would be lying. While you’d never admit anything like it, the roughness in the way he kisses you has you throbbing.
Donghyuck’s lips are like a drug. You stop for a moment to inhale, and then you’re lips are latched back onto each other. Exhale again, then you take another drag, and the cycle repeats. You could do this for fucking ever.
Then, the timer chimes.
“Time’s up!” Chenle yells from outside the bathroom, and Donghyuck pulls always almost instantly, surprisingly readier than you are.
He looks hot as he pants, chest rising and falling then rising again. He smirks, “Change your mind?”
God fucking damn it. Time went by a little too fast for your liking. Your lips are swollen, but you want more of him, to feel him, to touch him, especially because he didn’t let you. You’re finally admitting to yourself that you want him, and you can’t ignore your cravings anymore.
“Donghyuck,” you whimper, not caring in this moment who hears you, “w-want you.”
He smirks. “I know, baby. You wanna prove to me how much?”
You nod. It’s pathetic, truly, but you need this at this point. So you let Donghyuck lead you out of the bathroom, and essentially the bedroom, ignoring the curious sounds coming from your friends. He leads you down the hall into a different, emptier room, closing and locking the door behind the two of you.
“On the bed,” he instructs.
You comply, the desperation that accompanies having not slept with someone in months and orgasming in weeks making you leap into action in an instant. Then there’s this raw part of you that has lusted after him before you fully came to terms with your desire, making you feel the way blood courses through your veins.
Donghyuck walks up and kisses you again, this time allowing both of your pairs of hands to roam freely as you strip one another almost bare. In an eager motion, you peel away his shirt and jeans, and he matches your yearn, leaving you naked. He pulls away from your lips to eye your body in awe.
“You’re a bitch,” he says, “but a beautiful one.”
“Really turned me on,” you deadpan.
He laughs yet pushes your back flat against the mattress, wasting no time in hovering above your body. The proximity has your heart racing a little quicker, a little faster than it was out of something like anticipation. Donghyuck dips his head but doesn’t kiss you like you anticipate him to, at least not on the lips. His lips scout your neck, soft and sweet against your flesh. He sucks at your skin, and your mouth gapes a little, sounding the most sweet gasp before he digs his teeth in suit. It makes you whimper aloud his name, which he clearly enjoys from the way he smiles.
Donghyuck repeats a course of similar actions as he mouth scoots lower, kissing and sucking and biting at your collarbone. Then he proceeds after some time, traveling lower and taking your breast into his mouth or his tongue swirling over your nipples. He trails kisses at your sternum, your stomach, all the while your breath getting caught up in your throat the more his mouth falls down your body. He’s so obviously teasing you, you know that much. He has a destination yet no rush to get there, taking his sweet, precious time as though he’s rich of it. And maybe he is, but your patience is running thin, and there’s only so much more of this you can take. “Hyuck,” you cry out of sheer desperation, “hurry up.”
“For someone who claimed not to want me up until ten minutes again, you really are desperate for me,” Donghyuck replies, drawing his mouth away, and hence all contact there was.
Refusing to simply take that, you retaliate, “For someone who claimed they could make me feel good, you’re doing a whole lot of nothing right now.”
“Keep running that sharp mouth and I’ll have to put it to better use,” Donghyuck answers. It isn’t like you’re against giving head, and it wouldn’t sound so bad if you weren’t so painfully deprived of the same satisfaction Donghyuck’s offered to give you. Sure, the speed—or lack of the—heightens the anticipation, but you need him to quit teasing or you’ll actually go insane.
“You keep acting like you hate me,” Donghyuck moves between your legs, and you aren’t prepared for what he does next. Something about the way he slowly smooths his single finger through your folds and draws it into his mouth for a taste is hot to you, thus making you wish he’d finally get on with it. “But your cunt is telling me that you love me. Love this.”
Well it isn’t like he’s wrong. You haven’t been this wet in ages, the dry spell you’ve been under being extreme and severe. Touching yourself has gone absolutely no where up until last night, when you somehow managed to cum harder than you have in a minute. You’re starting to think that having Donghyuck as your muse changes things.
Rolling your eyes, you sigh. You’d love this more if he stopped making you wait, but you don’t say that aloud, starting to suspect that the more you complain the longer he silently decides he’s going to test your patience. After what feels like an eternity of touching you everywhere but where you desperately need him to most, Donghyuck’s tongue draws a line between your thighs. Then another, and another. It progresses into more with no particular rush, despite the inevitable whines you can’t prevent from falling out. “Hyuck,” you cry again, wishing he’d stop playing games.
Donghyuck teases, “What’s the magic word?”
“Please,” you beg, “Please, please. I-I want, fuck no, I need this. Please, fuck—”
Your pleas are cut short the moment Donghyuck gives in, lapping at you with an unquenchable thirst and insatiable hunger. It’s so sudden that it gives you whiplash, and he has to grip your thighs to keep them spread a safe distance apart. He’s unstopping once he begins, tongue maneuvering as it pleases, roaming around freely though expertly. Had you known Donghyuck was as much bite as he was bark, you may have gave in to this much sooner than you did. Not only is he making you feel good, but he’s making you feel great. If you could taste heaven, it would be this.
Some moments pass, and the humiliating part is that it isn’t a lot of moments. Your thighs are trembling more with every lick, resulting in Donghyuck’s grip around your thighs to tighten out of consideration that you might successfully slip out of his grasp. You stomach turns, flips, and you’re vision is being clouded white, so close to an orgasm that it hurts. Donghyuck senses it, you know that he can, you can feel the arrogant smirk spreading across his lips once more. Just as you’re getting so close, as your orgasm is right there in arms reach, being dangled in front of you by a string, he snatches it away.
There’s yet another whine from you, but he answers your question before you even get the chance to ask, “Want you to cum when I fuck you, baby.”
Donghyuck removed his boxers, leaving them on the ground to be cared about later. His erection springs flat against his stomach in a way that makes you so suddenly inhale a breath, and you clench around absolutely nothing at all. You’re gawking at him as though you want to eat hm, and in a sense you do, but you can’t be blamed. It looks better than you could’ve ever imagined, decent length, decent girth. The real brag-worthy factor, however, is if he knows what to do with what god has blessed him with.
His dick nudges your slit. “Ready?”
Without wasting an eighth of second you give him the go-ahead, nodding your head at instance so fast it almost hurts your neck. He reacts equally as fast, prodding his dick between your folds and eventually your walls. It stretches you out perfectly, and the moment he’s in you Donghyuck’s moaning about how tight and wet you are. He takes a moment for himself before he starts to move, gliding in and out of you in an effortless motion.
So far, Donghyuck has lived up perfectly to your imagination and expectations, much better, even. You never would’ve thought he’d actually have the right to brag about how good he is in bed, but you see it now. He’s a god even, not that you’d ever tell him that to his face.
“So pretty, wish I could have gotten to you sooner. Always telling me that you hate me yet letting me fuck you like this. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve always wanted this,” Donghyuck says into your ear, and pecks your neck. “Are you always this needy? So desperate that you’ll let even me fuck you?”
“G-god, yes,” you don’t care about overpriding him anymore, just saying things because you aren’t in the right mind to care about anything other than his dick right now.
“Yeah?” He smirks. “Tell me how it feels, baby.”
You’re almost too fucked out to speak, just moaning and whimpering in a way you never thought you would for him, “Feels good, so… so good. Love it.”
If you were in the right mind to have shame, you’d be embarrassed by the way your number-one enemy is making you moan, and not just because of the volume, but because it’s his name your moaning so pathetically. Choruses of “Hyuck” sounding from you in plethoras, calling his name with no actual reason. You’re breathing in little shallow, quick breaths, too, mouth agape as your whimpers tumble into the air. It helps that Donghyuck’s also surprisingly vocal, calling your name back. To say the least, the way he moans your name is hot and gets you off a little more, in spite of you not needing the help. He has it all on his own, fucking into you deep and hard.
Donghyuck gropes your body too, heightening your pleasure by fumbling with your breasts or rubbing your clit with one of his free hands. He doesn’t focus on one particular part of you, showering your figure with pleasure and attention that makes the sex a billion times better.
“Can I choke you?” He asks, and the question catches you a little off-guard, but once you shake off the surprise, you give him permission.
Donghyuck’s hands slither around your neck, and he presses into your jaw with just enough force to make you look at him, and silently communicate that he wants you to keep your eyes him and his actions. His fingers press onto the sides of your throat, and you’re not sure what is a bigger turn on, the fact that he knows how to properly do it or the action itself. You think it’s a bit of both, you enjoy the thrill as you look defeated by your inability breathing, and the dark look in his eyes tells you that he enjoys it too, staring straight into your soul, watching you fail to take a breath.
He doesn’t loosen his grip on your throat as he commands, “Open your mouth.”
You aren’t in the mind to question anything, simply following instructions. His mouth hovers above yours, lips parting to spit in your mouth. The action takes you by surprise yet again, but you swallow almost instinctively, never looking away from him as you do.
He backs away once satisfied, smiling. “So good for me, baby.”
That makes you clench around him, which also brings Donghyuck the satisfaction of a moan or two. He loves the way you clench around him when he says things to you, a telltale sign that you’re enjoying this more than he knows you’d probably like to admit. This whole thing between you and him, him and you is that you’re too stubborn to admit your desire. It prides him that he finally managed to make you confess it, to admit that you’re no different from anybody else. That he can still get under your skin, and does a fairly good job at that. Not only does it make him feel good about himself, but it makes him feel good right now. Your reactions, all your moans and your fucked out face, the whimpering and the begging, it all gets him off more.
That knot in your stomach is forming again, and he has you clenching around him regularly soon afterwards, and he can tell that this time, it’s not because of his words. It’s because you’re about to orgasm. “I’m close,” you announce, once again feeling all the flips and turns twisting about in your gut. It’s a good thing Donghyuck’s close too, being obvious from the way his thrusts aren’t as smooth as they initially were.
“Me, too. C’mon baby, give it to me,” he urges you on, and you let him drive you to the edge.
He makes you see white again, vision fogging the color and your voice a high-pitched moan of his name as you climax, grinding your hips into his as you intend to ride out your orgasm. In some high, trance-like state, you’re not sure when he cums, but you know that it wasn’t that much longer after you did, and then he slid out, flopping beside you on the mattress. You lie there in near-silence that consists of nothing but heavy breathing, wondering to yourself if this actually happened. You don’t regret it, not now anyways, and it was definitely a satisfying way to break your dry spell, but now you’re starting to question if it was a bad decision. He hasn’t even asked if—
“Are you okay?” Donghyuck asks, seemingly needing a moment to catch his breath before he could gather words.
His words cut through your thoughts, leaving you to accept that maybe he’s not that much of an asshole. It’s the bare minimum, so he’s still an asshole, but not that much of an asshole. “Yeah,” you nod. “I’m good.”
“Good,” he grins. “So, you wanna ditch this party and go get some Chinese food? I’m starving.”
“You want to go get food with me?” you say, sounding wholly and utterly surprised and unconvinced. This man spends every other day of his life bothering you, and now he wants to pick up some food with you?
“I mean, if you don’t want free Chinese food that I’m paying for with my money, then fine, suit yourself, I’ll just get it by my—”
“No!” You interject, sitting up immediately as you scan the room for your clothes. “I’m down. Kinda hungry, too.”
“Good,” Donghyuck says. “Chop, chop. We don’t have all night, they close in like less than an hour from now.”
Standing out of bed to put your clothes on, you consider to yourself that maybe you’ve assumed a lot about him without getting to know him. He’s definitely got an ego on him, that a blind man can tell, but he’s not really an asshole.
“Yo, I just realized something.”
“What?”
Donghyuck smiles bashfully, “I don’t have my wallet on me.”
Nevermind. He’s one-hundred percent definitely an asshole.
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wingedjellyfishflight · 2 months
Text
Harem in Reverse
"You're soon to be 26, Your Royal Highness. You must put together your harem soon or risk being married off to whomever the regent chooses for you." You sigh, nodding in agreement. Choosing a direct husband would be against the rules, and frankly, you weren't interested in interviewing for the perfect man. Choosing many for their adherence to various qualities, though. That would be a good choice. "Shall I put forth a call for certain attributes? Strong arms? Large chest? Impressive intellect?"
"No, I want to review the troops this week. I will find my consorts among the best our nation has to offer." The advisor looks stunned.
"Your Royal Highness, those are rough men. They do not have the breeding or training to handle you gently as a consort should. They are-."
"Advisor Williams, I know what attributes I am looking for. Schedule me to review the best of the troops, then. If none catch my eye, then I will consider others." The advisor nods, frustrated at not being heeded, but knowing they must follow a direct order.
The following week, you are almost nervous while getting ready, the beginning of butterflies in your stomach. If you weren't so tired, you're sure it would be worse, but the night before was yet another attempt on your life. They are becoming more frequent and more violent now.
Sighing, you hurry to the courtyard where your mount, Rosebud, is waiting. A gift that you feel had been meant to be another threat on your life. The mount was no ordinary horse or pony. Instead, it was the largest draft mule you had ever seen. If you had treated him like a horse, you're sure the thing would have stomped within minutes. He was a vain creature who had to be sweet-talked and treated with utmost respect before he would agree to do much of anything. He was covered in whip and spur scars, telling anyone that he was difficult to force submission from, despite their best efforts. Not that you thought anyone could force an animal born of a mammoth jack donkey and a Shire horse to submit physically. You loved each and every scar, the signs of his stubborn nature on display for all to see.
"Hello, sweet boy." You greet him and let him snuffle you over, waving off the over eager stable hand. "May I ride you today? I am to inspect the troops." He blows a huff of air and turns his head away. You slide your hand along his proud neck and across his withers to the saddle. Checking it over, you deem it done well enough and climb on his back. Your legs spread wide across his broad barrel. Your advisors turn away, knowing that you will refuse their most strident pleas to ride sidesaddle.
"Let us inspect the troops." With that, the company is off at a quick walk to the parade grounds. Your group of advisors and the personal guard that you only marginally trust join the General and his entourage at the front of the formation. You strongly dislike the General. He is somehow the worst mix of ass kissing and condescending.
"The army is excited to be inspected this morning, Your Royal Highness." You barely manage to cover your snort. There is no way they are happy to be here standing in the sun to be inspected on your whim. You move from company to company, looking over the men and pointing out individuals to be inspected, but seeing none you would consider as consort. Reaching the special forces, the rabid dogs as your advisors refer to them, the General is incensed to see that the leader of one is missing.
"Where is the Captain? This is not an optional inspection!"
A man steps forward, "He was injured in a skirmish this week and is still confined to the hospital, General Argus." Looking over the group, you see several still sport bandages and healing abrasions. You nudge your mount closer, his ears perked forward in a match to your curiosity. The General apologizes to you for the disrespect of the men for not appearing but is cut off.
"Your Royal Highness. Escaping the hospital took longer than predicted. For that, I sincerely apologize." You turn, seeing a man limping toward the formation at a quick pace. This must be the Captain. As he falls in, you dismount your mule, resting your hand on his broad neck. Your personal guard hurriedly surrounds you, standing much too close. Rosebud takes exception to being crowded, ears flattening against his head. He strikes out like a snake. His teeth click just shy of the nearest man, who stumbles back yelling and unsheathes a sword. Without a thought, you draw your own ceremonial dagger.
"Touch one hair on Rosebud, and I will gut you." Everyone around you freezes before slowly backing away. "I will not be crowded by your incompetent forms when I am here to inspect the troops." They retreat from your anger, not wanting to risk you calling for their death. Rosebud drops his head, relaxing, and you absentmindedly rub his long ear the way he loves. His lip twitches and his eyes half close for a moment before he pulls away. You step forward, and Rosebud matches your pace, keeping his shoulder just behind yours. It took months to build up a relationship with him, and now he is putty in your hands most days.
An advisor tries to signal you to stay back, but you ignore them, your eyes on the men, looking for the best of them. You memorize the name of the Captain and another likely candidate, signaling Advisor Williams to your side. He groans but carefully walks to you, eyes locked on the increased alertness of Rosebud.
"I will have an audience with this Captain Price and Colonel König. As soon as the men are dismissed. In private." You walk forward and give a cursory inspection to the man who had spoken on the Captain's behalf. His uniform is impeccable, you are happy to see. You don't want them punished on your behalf. The smirk on his face beneath his mask sends a thrill through you. Another man who is not cowed by your station. That is important in advisors. Lieutenant Riley, his uniform says. You nod and mount Rosebud again, rejoining the pack of advisors to inspect the remaining troops. No others catch your eye.
Walking into your State room, you signal for everyone except the two soldiers to leave. While unusual, they are compelled to do so by your haughty glares and Advisor Williams guiding them away, barring the doors behind him and standing guard. Sitting in your throne, you drag your eyes over the men. Colonel König is wearing his customary face covering, and Captain Price has the cover he is well-known for in his hands.
"I have a proposal for you both that I want you to carefully consider. This proposal will not be spoken of again if you decline and it will not leave this room." The men perk up, and you see heat in their eyes as they consider one of the possibilities of your words. "I need advisors who are not advisors." That throws them off, and you see the Colonel shift uneasily. "These advisors would be the closest of any man or woman to me. They would teach and protect me with their very lives. My life is under threat and has been since the King and Queen died, my uncle taking over as Regent. I need advisors who will help me oust him and take my rightful place on the throne without contest and without raising his suspicions. Thus, I need men who will join my harem." You pause, savoring the way their faces change as they process this.
"Your Royal Highness, are you asking us to find you men to join your harem? That is most unusual, but we will do our best." You shake your head at Captain Price.
"Yes, but not in the way you are thinking. I am asking the two of you to join my harem and to advise me on the best men to round out such a harem. To be advisors and leaders in removing the despot from his fake throne. To be my lovers, spoiled in every way and to guard me from all attempts on my life. I want you both, and I trust you to choose others and to bring them to me for approval. If you decline this position, we shall never speak on it again."
"Yes, I would be honored to be chosen for your harem, Your Royal Highness." Colonel König does not hesitate to agree. He feels he has loved you from afar for years, and this is an opportunity he will not squander.
"I would be as well, Your Royal Highness." Captain Price is confident that declining now would be a mistake, and he is not a man prone to mistakes. "I have a few men in mind that would be good additions. They are a bit of a package deal." You nod, expecting as much.
"Their names?"
"John MacTavish, Simon Riley and Kyle Garrick, Your Royal Highness."
"I have two in mind that would be good choices as well. Hiro Watanabe and Kim Hong-jin. They are foreign, but good, loyal and strong men, Your Royal Highness."
The smile you bestow them with is almost a surprise to the men. "Then, I wish for you to gather your men and their belongings. You will join me tonight, my consorts."
"Yes, Your Royal Highness." The men bow and leave, stunned at the way this meeting has gone. You order Advisor Williams to prepare the harem quarters and pack your own belongings secretly. It would be folly to live apart from the men who will be your new private guard and you would be lying if you weren't excited to see under those perfectly done uniforms.
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scuderiahoney · 5 months
Text
Always Walk Me Home
Max Verstappen x Reader // Strawberry Wine Pt I
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Strawberry Wine Series
Masterlist
Summary: You and Max are keeping things casual. Sooo casual. You can be casual. Right?
Word Count: 4.3k
a/n: Heeeeere we go, his number is in my bio for a reason, it’s my other favorite boy! This one is heavily inspired by some of the prompts on this list. anyways enjoy!
Warnings: alcohol/mild intoxication, mild sexual references, google translated Dutch
Things with Max are… brand new. Everything is still fresh. Everything he does gives you butterflies, makes your heart skip a beat. It’s the honeymoon phase, as everyone calls it.
It’s so brand new that nobody knows. Nothing is… official, yet. You’ve just been on a few dates, had a few movie nights. You’ve stayed at his place a couple times, waking up with his arm around your waist and Jimmy and Sassy curled up next to you. It’s casual. You’re keeping things casual. Max seems content to feel things out, to keep seeing you without labeling it. You’re trying so hard to be casual about it that it’s almost embarrassing.
You feel like everyone sees straight through you. On top of spending time alone together, you and Max are friends, so you see each other at group outings and clubs and dinners with your other friends. Max acts the same there as he always has- kind, courteous, and friendly. You won’t lie, sometimes you wish he’d hold your hand or pull your chair out for you or something, anything to show you that you’re not the only one feeling less than casual. But you’re scared of scaring him away, so you keep your mouth shut.
…..
You’re out to dinner with friends, somehow ending up sitting next to him. It’s nice, really nice. You can smell his cologne, can feel the warmth radiating off of him at the packed table. You have to fight the urge to nudge his foot with yours, to press your knee against his. That wouldn’t be very casual of you. You can do this, you can be normal.
He’s saying something to the person next to him, laughing and leaning towards them. You want to be the reason he’s laughing, want to be in on the jokes. You keep your mouth shut and look at the menu instead.
“What are you going to get?” Max asks.
He’s suddenly in your space. He’s leaning close, his shoulder brushing against yours. Be normal. You shrug, sliding your finger down the menu.
“Probably the shrimp scampi,” you say, pointing at the item.
Max nods. “You love seafood.”
You blink, breath caught in your chest. He’s right, but you didn’t know he knew that. Let alone for him to say it as fact. It’s not like he’s whispering either- someone else could hear. It’s silly, because it’s such a small thing, but you’re overanalyzing everything about it.
“I do,” you agree, turning and smiling at him.
“I remember things,” he says, a soft smile on his face, and now your face is growing hot.
Someone draws his attention away, and you look back to the menu. You nearly yelp in shock when something brushes your knee, but- it’s Max, you realize with a start, his hand searching for something. You hold your breath. His fingers find yours, and he interlaces your hands, palm to palm. He keeps them resting on your leg.
You try to take even breaths. He’s holding your hand in public, with your friends right next to you. Sure, it’s under the table, but this is the most you’ve gotten from him in a setting like this. He’s held your hand on dates, done much more in the privacy of his home, but here it feels overwhelming. His thumb brushes over the back of your hand, and you resist the urge to hold on so tightly to him that he can’t let go.
Eventually the food comes, and you both let go so you can eat. But it was nice while it lasted.
…..
Max’s apartment is spacious and cozy, despite the fact that he’s gone from it so often. There’s a warmth here, an aura that just screams Max. His cats roam freely, though while you’re there they have a tendency to follow you around.
“They are traitors,” Max accuses as Jimmy and Sassy weave around your ankles in the kitchen.
“Maybe I’m just better than you,” you say.
“Oh, you are,” he says, sending up a swirl of butterflies in your stomach. “But I feed them. So they are traitors.”
You laugh, leaning down to pet the cats. They nudge their heads against your hands and legs, paw at your socks, and when you walk into the living room, they follow after. Max just watches with disappointment.
By the time he joins you in the living room, drinks in hand, both of them are curled up in your lap. He lets out a huff and sets the drinks on the table. Then he’s nudging at the cats, and you cry out when he pushes them both off your lap.
“Max!” You say, appalled.
He laughs, lays down on the couch, and promptly placed his head exactly where the two cats had been. He stares up at you with a wide grin, eyes squeezed nearly shut.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi,” you answer.
He reaches for one of your hands. He squeezes your fingers softly before bringing your hand up to his hair. You laugh and take the hint, start running your fingers through the blonde strands. He lets his eyes fall shut. Then you watch as he brings his hand up, purses his lips, and points at them.
You take that hint too, lean over and plant a kiss on his lips. When you try to pull away, he wraps a hand around the back of your neck and keeps you there. He deepens the kiss, fingers slipping into the hair at the nape of your neck to hold you there. It’s not the best angle, but it’s nice, always nice to kiss him.
He finally lets you go and collapses back into your lap, a satisfied smile on his reddened lips.
…..
“I can’t open it!” You squeak. “What the fuck, how do they make it look so easy?”
You’re holding a bottle of champagne in your friend’s apartment, trying to get the cork out. It doesn’t help that you’re scared- one too many horror stories about someone getting a cork to the eye, or breaking a window. You huff and try again, gently. No use.
“Lando slams it on the ground,” your friend suggests, her eyebrows raised.
“Yeah, and he also shattered one of Max’s trophies,” you say. “So maybe not the best example.”
You hear familiar laughter, then, and you drop one hand to your side, still holding the bottle in front of you with the other. Max makes his way through the kitchen, a smile on his lips that paints his whole face. You hold it out to him, pouting.
“No, no,” he says. “I’ll show you.”
He wraps his hand around yours, around the bottle. You can’t lie, your mind goes somewhere else for a second, but you tamp those thoughts down and try to focus.
“See, you put this hand on the cork,” he instructs, “and this hand on the bottom.”
His hands are warm over yours. Your face feels hot. Does he feel the sparks when his skin touches yours, too? Or is this normal for him? Is it just a friend helping another friend? You wish you knew, wish he’d say something to quell your worries and calm your racing heart.
“-and then you twist, like this,” he demonstrates.
The bottle hisses, and you jump, but there’s no dramatic pop, no shooting of the cork. You just pull it out, and you stare at the bottle with wide eyes. Oh. That was-
“Easy, right?” He says. “You are already a pro.”
You laugh, shake your head, and hold out the bottle to your friends, standing there with their empty glasses. You want to study their faces, ask them if they noticed anything. You want to ask if they saw the sparks, too. Someone takes the bottle, and your hands fall to your side, the cork still between your fingers.
Your knuckles brush against something- when you look, it’s Max’s hand. He’s still standing there, watching as everyone passes the bottle around. You swallow tightly, bump your hand into his. Deliberately. You want to look up at his face, want to gauge his reaction, but you resist the urge.
Max reaches his pinky out and hooks it with yours. For just a moment, standing in the kitchen, surrounded by your friends, you’re linked. The sparks run from his finger, up your wrist and arm and straight to your heart. Your chest fizzes like the champagne, bubbly and overflowing.
…..
You weren’t even planning on seeing Max tonight. It’s a girls night, one that’s been suggested over and over, each of you being too busy to make it happen until tonight. You’re at your favorite bar, bass thudding in your chest, your friends all around you.
And then, there’s a tingling feeling in your spine. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Someone is watching you. You turn over your shoulder and lock eyes with Max.
He’s leaning against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other. He has a black t-shirt on that’s always been one of your favorites- it hugs his upper arms and his chest so perfectly. He’s watching you, a soft smirk on his lips, a drink in his hand. Everyone is moving around you, but you’re stuck on him.
You smile, wave, and force yourself to turn back to your friends. You like him, you want to spend time with him, but you’ve been neglecting your friendships because of it. Your friends have been teasing you all night about how you’ve been too busy, how you keep checking your phone, how there must be a guy. You’ve denied it at every turn. You can’t leave them now. Ditching your friends for the guy who isn’t even your boyfriend would be the opposite of casual. You force yourself not to look at him, but you swear you can still feel him staring.
Ten minutes later, a bartender appears with a tray of shots and lime wedges. “For you,” she says, pointing at you, and your friends squeal in excitement. She points behind you, then. “From him.”
You turn over your shoulder again. Max is watching, and waving this time. You laugh and wave back, and your friends all do the same. He’s far away, too far to make it in time as you each grab a shot and throw them back in unison. You put the lime between your lips and turn to look at him again, raising your brows. He laughs, eyes lit up so bright you can see the blue even across the room, you swear. Then he juts his chin in the direction of the hallway when nobody else is looking. A message just for you.
You find him out there ten minutes later, trying not to make it obvious and taking the time to come up with an excuse- you fake a phone call. The hall is empty when you walk out, and you wonder if he’s given up on you- you know you saw him walk out. Then he pops his head out from around a corner and waves you over frantically.
He’s leaning against the wall, the same way he was in the club. You stand against the wall on the other side of the hallway and stare at him.
“I’m not leaving right now,” you say. “I promised I’d stay out late.”
“I know,” he says. “Just wanted to see you.”
You tilt your head. “Yeah? Seeing me across the bar wasn’t enough?”
The tequila running in your veins has you feeling braver than usual. It doesn’t seem to scare Max. He just grins wider, brow quirked.
“No, it wasn’t,” he says. “You’re pretty from far away, but even prettier up close.”
Your face feels hot. He pushes off from the wall, leans towards you. He could box you in if he wanted, could pin you right there, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes your hand in his and pulls you away from the wall, too. The kiss he sweeps you into is sweet. He wraps his arm around you, and you sling yours around the back of his neck. One of his hands cradles the side of your face as he deepens the kiss. Out of all of it, you’re much more focused on the feeling of his thumb on your cheek than the feeling of his lips on yours. It’s strangely intimate, strangely soft, the way he holds you as he kisses you in the hallway of a bar. The way his nose nudges against your cheek, the way he pulls you closer and closer like he can’t get enough.
He pulls away, leaves you gasping for air.
“You taste like lime,” he says.
You nod, dumbfounded.
“You should go back to your friends,” he suggests, kissing your temple. “If I keep kissing you I won’t want to let you go.”
You breathe out a laugh and slap his shoulder. “If you keep staring at me in the club I won’t be able to focus on anything else.”
He laughs. “I know,” he says. “That’s what makes it fun. Besides, you’re fun to watch.”
…..
Three days later, Max is holding your purse. He’d taken it from you when you were all standing in the lobby of the restaurant and your friend dragged you into the bathroom. He’d promised to keep it safe. Now you’re back, your friends are gathering their things and saying goodbyes, getting ready to go home. You’re watching him.
The little black bag looks even smaller in his hands. His fingers are wrapped around the clutch, thumb rubbing back and forth across one of the stitches the same way it had on your skin the night before. He’s talking to someone else, but when there’s a break in the conversation, you nudge him.
“I can take that back,” you say, holding your hand out.
He tilts his head, blinks softly. “That’s okay. I’ll carry it.”
You’re sure you’re staring at him like a deer in the headlights. “Okay, but I’m leaving, so I need my purse.”
He nods. “I thought maybe I could walk you home. If you wanted.”
You nod in response, feeling a bit dumbfounded. The two of you exit the restaurant, waving goodbye to your friends. He takes your hand the second you’re outside, your purse still in his other one. Your fingers knit together like second nature, now. You could predict the pattern of the brush of his thumb against your skin like clockwork.
Your apartment isn’t far, but you find yourself walking slow on purpose, prolonging the moment. You pass people on the street and you know that to them, the two of you look like a real, actual couple. It’s nice to pretend. You lean into his shoulder, and he stumbles and laughs and keeps both of you upright. The two of you talk the whole way there, about everything and nothing and all the stuff in between.
When you reach the apartment building, he finally holds your purse out to you. You open the clutch, digging through it to find your keys and the front door access card. He watches in amusement as your fingers fumble through the bag.
“D’you wanna come up?” You ask. “I have some of that wine you like.”
You pull the card triumphantly from your bag. You look up at him, and he’s smiling softly, something sparkling in his eyes that makes your breath hitch. Makes the champagne bubble in your chest all over again.
“That’s okay,” he says, softly. “I’ve got to get back to the cats. But can I take you to breakfast tomorrow?”
You blink, card still pinched between your fingers. “Yeah, sure.”
He tilts his head at you. “Maybe brunch. You are going to need sleep. How about you text me when you wake up and we’ll go from there?”
You nod. He nods back. Then he reaches up, cups the side of your face in his hand. He’s so gentle about it, more so than he normally is. When he presses his lips to yours, he tastes like gin and he kisses like… like he cares for you. Like this isn’t leading somewhere else, like he’s not going to pull you into his lap and start trailing kisses down your neck. He kisses you just to kiss you, just to say goodnight.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says when he pulls away. “Goodnight, liefje.”
You smile up at him. “Goodnight, Max.”
He smiles back. Then he leans forward and presses his lips to your forehead softly. You swear you’re melting into the sidewalk. You must be a puddle under his feet. You want to press yourself into his chest, tell him to wrap his arms around you, ask him to never let you go.
But you’re trying so hard to be so good at being casual, so you kiss his cheek, turn around, and walk inside. You take the elevator up, leaning against the wall and covering your giddy smile with your hand. When you get into your apartment, kick off your heels, and drop your bag on the counter, your phone buzzes. It’s a call. You look at the screen and see Max’s face.
“Hello?” You answer.
“Did you get in alright?” He asks.
Your heart squeezes fiercely in your chest. He sounds so soft, asking it. You walk over to the window, peel back the curtains, hoping you’re right about what you think you’ll see. There he is, still standing in front of the entrance, phone to his ear. He’s staring up at your window. When he sees you, he waves.
“Yeah,” you say. “You didn’t have to wait, you know.”
But I’m so glad you did.
“Yes I did,” he says, voice soft and scratchy from the night out. “Had to make sure you were safe.”
“Okay,” you breathe. “Let me know when you get home, okay?”
“I will,” he says. You watch as he waves again, smiling up at you. “Goodnight.”
…..
He picks you up for brunch the next day. By the time you’re in his car, it’s nearly 10:30. He drives with his hand on your knee, like always, fingers dancing across your exposed skin below the hem of your sundress. You like watching him drive, like being here with him. He pulls up to the restaurant and runs around to open your door for you, leaving you laughing. He hands the keys to the valet. Then he slips his arm around your waist and leads you inside.
You’ve been on dates with him, but none this fancy, none where you feel a little out of your element. Max seems comfortable, though- it’s moments like these where you’re reminded he’s not just your-friend-Max. He’s F1-world-champion-Max-Verstappen. Of course he can get a reservation here with such short notice. They’re honored to have him here.
A waiter leads you to a booth in the back. The restaurant is bright and airy, fresh flowers on every table. Max asks for a pitcher of water and orange juice before the waiter leaves. He pulls your chair out for you, pushes it in when you sit down. Your palms are sweating, heart beating rapidly. It’s just- this is the closest you’ve come to feeling like you’re actually dating him. Suddenly, it’s terrifying.
You ask him what’s good on the menu. He points out his favorites- the French toast, the eggs Benedict, the omelettes. He tells you he’s going to order a fruit sampler for the two of you to share, and you smile softly.
“They always have the best strawberries,” he tells you, eyes lit up. “You love strawberries.”
“I do,” you tell him, warmth filling your cheeks. “You do too.”
You’d bonded over that, when you first became friends. A strawberry wine that nobody else wanted to drink. Too sweet. You’d split the bottle with Max and went to bed with a sugar rush, your lips still tasting like strawberry. Ever since, for every special occasion, the two of you have gifted each other that same strawberry wine. It’s a running joke, among your friends- you’ll open the bottle, ask if anyone wants a glass. They’ll ignore you, but Max will come running.
He opens his mouth to say something, but over his shoulder, you spot something that makes your blood run cold.
“Shit,” you mutter.
He looks at you in concern. “What is it?”
“Nothing, just-“ you sigh. “Your coworker is here.”
Charles Leclerc has just walked in the door, a girl on his arm. The waiter is pointing in your general direction, towards an open table a little ways away. There goes your whole morning. He’s going to want to leave now.
Max turns to look, brows raised. “Oh. At least it’s one I like.”
You can’t help the laugh. “Should we go?”
Max turns back to you, perplexed. “What, get up to say hi? I don’t like him that much. He’ll come over here when he sees us.”
Us. You wish he meant it how you want him to.
“No, like-“ you sigh, gaze flickering down to the table. “You don’t want people to know, so-“
“What?” He asks, wide eyed. “What do you mean, I don’t want-“
“You didn’t want to tell anyone,” you say, quietly. You can’t look at him. “We haven’t even really talked about this, and… I figured you…”
You trail off, because you can feel him staring at you. He reaches over and tucks his finger under your chin. He tilts your face upwards towards his. His gaze is soft, a small smile on his face.
“Schatje, you have to be joking,” he says, and you stare back at him. “Of course I want to tell people. I have wanted to tell the whole world since I kissed you the first time.”
You blink. “But you- you didn’t want to put a label on it. You never…”
“We never talked about it,” he says. “I was giving you time. I’m a lot. Dating me is a lot. You are… I was following your lead.”
“Oh my god,” you blurt out, a giddy feeling in your chest. “Oh my god, I’m so dumb.”
The two of you just stare at each other for a moment. His eyes are bright and sparkling, his smile spreading across his whole face. You’re so done being casual.
Charles appears at the end of your table seconds later, smiling at the two of you. “Max, hi, good to see you. And I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met,” he adds, turning to you.
“Charles, this is my girlfriend,” Max says, reaching across the table to take your hand.
When you greet Charles, you can’t wipe the giddy grin from your face. It stays there the whole rest of the day- through breakfast, through a walk through a park, through a late lunch at Max’s with the cats winding around your ankles. Every time it starts to fade you think of Max, bright blue eyes, his finger under your chin. You fall asleep still smiling. You’re pretty sure it’ll be there when you wake up.
…..
The next time you go out with your friends, Max carries your bag the whole night. He also keeps his hand on the small of your back nearly constantly. He orders and pays for all of your drinks, includes you in all the conversations, and brushes his lips against your temple every time there’s a lull in the talking.
Nobody questions it. None of your friends even bat an eye. You find out why when you end up in the bathroom with the girls, a tradition as old as time itself.
It turns out they all already knew.
“Max told us all the day after he kissed you the first time,” someone tells you. “And then he told us we all had to act like nothing was different, because he didn’t want to scare you off.”
You collapse into a fit of laughter, bracing yourself against the sink. All this time, you were worried about it, and he’d told everyone right away. You’d thought you were the one struggling to be casual. God, you’d have saved yourself so much trouble if you’d only asked. If you’d only told him straightforward what you wanted. If you’d only been up front.
You’re giddy with it, then. You can feel it coursing through your veins and buzzing in your fingertips. You won’t call it love yet, at least not out loud. It’s too soon, right? It can’t be love. But it’s something, and now you want him next to you. You want his lips on yours again. You’re missing him even though he’s just through the door, waiting for you, your bag in his hand.
When you return to his side, you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. You watch his smile grow and his cheeks turn red. You place your hand on his shoulder and put your lips against his ear.
“You should take me home,” you tell him.
His cheeks get even redder, and he turns to you. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you say with a nod. “You’ll walk me home, right?”
“Always,” he agrees.
He takes your hand, squeezes lightly. You feel like you’re glowing brighter than the neon lights above your head.
…..
You slip up over your morning cup of coffee three days later. The cats are in your lap. There’s the perfect amount of cream and sugar in the mug, he’s made it exactly right. The sun is shining through the windows, bouncing off his hair and painting his skin in golden light. You weren’t going to say it out loud, you really weren’t, but it slips past your lips anyways.
“I love you,” you say.
Max laughs, takes the mug from your hands, and kisses you.
Then he says it right back.
read the prequel/ sequel, Someone Sane
okay, now I’ve got my three favorite boys in the masterlist! thanks for reading! come say hi, or check out more of my writing here. drop an ask or a dm to be added to the tag list!
taglist: @4-mula1
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