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#but it's fine it's fine we got the worst part out of the way so I'm very happy abt that
scorpioriesling · 2 days
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Guilty as Sin?
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Pairing(s): Azriel x reader
Warnings: angsty asf
Summary: It wasn't hard to love your best friend; after all, you'd been through everything together. He'd seen every in-depth part of you, but now you were forced to give all of that up. All because of the stupid cauldron, and stupid fate.
SR’s Note: Brb going to get "mine" tatted on my upper thigh... this is so UGH anyways. I had to; I apologize in advance. This is one of my favorite new songs.
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The cauldron could boil itself at this point.
You weren't sure how to make the best of this situation; something you could normally do without fail. A talent everyone loved about you. However, that talent was failing you now.
Now that the bond had snapped, and there was no way out. No way of avoiding what you so desparetely wanted for years, and somehow it all ended up messed up in the end.
Lucien was a good male, you would give him that much; but that wasn't enough. Your life felt near over when your best friend revealed his hidden bond with the Archeron girl -- but now, you were in the same position. Somehow, you were cursed in more ways than one. Not only was your best friend mated to someone else -- but now so were you.
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"You're right, we should definitely get matching tattoos!" You laughed, bumping into Azriel's arm as you both stumbled down the Velaris streets. It was past midnight, and you were both buzzed from your night out at Rita's -- something you did at least once a week -- and the walk home turned into more of a walk through town.
He chuckled beside you, fingers curling around your elbow to help steady you. His wide smile was a sight you'd never tire of; he rarely let it show, but when he did, you made sure to illustrate it in your mind, holding onto the masterpiece forever.
"It isn't our worst idea..." he admitted, taking another swig from the bottle he held. You watched as his throat bobbed, swallowing the liquid and turning his attention back to you. You look toward the sky, trying and failing to pretend you weren't staring.
"What should we get?" You ask with a grin. He ponders for a moment, brow lifted in mockery. "Hmm.." he says. "What if we got eachother's handwriting?" You giggled, and he laughed with you.
"I'm serious!" He exclaimed. The tattoo parlor was coming into view, and you rolled your eyes. "I don't know if I trust you to literally write on me," you say. "We've been friends for far too long for me to put it past you to write something like "Azriel is so hot" or "Kiss my ass" on me-" You barely get it all out before laughing again, his gaze on you softening as he loops an arm around your shoulders.
"I promise I won't do something so vulgar," he says. You're now in front of the tattoo shop, the neon lights illuminating his face in a deep blue glow. He grabs the door handle and opens it, gesturing you to go inside.
"Ladies first." He smirks. You lightly smack his shoulder, and saunter your way inside.
"Fine -- but you have to go first." You throw over your shoulder. He enters behind you, and within minutes he's put in a chair and the tattoo artist is holding the needle gun over his forearm.
"Okkayyy, 'lil lady," he says, pulling up a stool to allow you to sit beside him. He hands you the gun, and places his hand over yours to help you with the process. "You ready?" he asks. You glance at Azriel, who now has his eyes lightly closed as he lays down on the bed in front of you.
"Are you ready, Azzie?" You say. He nods silently, a small smile playing on his lips. You release a breath as the gun whirrs to life, and the artist guides you to begin pressing into your best friend's skin. Stealing a glance at his face, you find him peacefully laying there, almost sleepy. That would make sense, seeing as you both drank a lot tonight.
After a few minutes of darkening the lines and wiping away the excess liquid, the artist powers down the needle and scoots back on his rolling chair. Your fingers lightly dance over the puffy black lines on his otherwise bare forearm, and he stirs at the sensation.
"Have a look," you say. He opens his eyes and sits up, delight overtaking his features as he sees your work.
"I choose you and me," he says aloud, reading over the ink now drying in his skin. He almost blushes, gazing at the ink and touching it lightly. His eyes meet yours, and in seconds he is hopping up and offerring you the bed. You sit on it, pulling the hem of your shorts up so it's easier to access.
"Heyy..." he starts. "You picked the spot for mine-" You huff.
"I want mine up here," you point to the upper part of your thigh, and he rolls his eyes. He shoots a look to the artist, and shakes his head.
"I've learned to just not argue with this one," he says, and you gasp at him. He laughs, his white teeth shining like stars inside the dim shop. The tattoo artist sighs, powering on the newly replaced tatto gun and handing it to Azriel. You place a hand on your leg, eyes wide.
"You're not gonna help him?" You ask the artist. He only shrugs at you.
"I've seen his work before -- he knows how to do a pretty damn good tattoo." Your eyes narrow toward your best friend, and he only grins down at you.
Sighing, you rest your head back against the cushion of the tattoo bed. "Az, you better not fuck this up-"
You're cut off by his fingers brushing against the skin of your leg, pulling on your shorts to move them slightly. Your breath catches in your throat, now staring wide-eyed down at the man you'd secretly fallen so madly in love with. His messy curls tickled the strips of skin between the hem of your baby tee and the top of your shorts as he stared intently at his work, needle lightly pressing into your skin. His other hand laid flat on your stomach, holding you gently in place.
You couldn't ever get rid of this sight unless someone quite literally ripped it from the archives of your mind.
He glanced up at you, noticing your labored breathing. His soft expression was one he only ever used with you; a stark contrast to the strong, unfazed front he presented to everyone else. You figured he was going to tell you to chill out -- little did he know you weren't focusing on the pain, but rather the striking male on top of you.
"Lay down -- you can't peek 'till I'm done."
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The air was warm as it rolled off the sidra, the salt air so familiar. You'd come down here for some peace; some time away. Since learning of the bond with Lucien, it was like you couldn't escape. You couldn't get away from the constant "Are you okay?"s and "Have you told Azriel?"s and "Do you think you'll accept the bond?"s. It was getting to be too much. No, you weren't okay. No, you did not want to accept the bond.
And fuck no, you did not tell Azriel. You remembered what happened last time when you found out his bond snapped, and you hadn't even seen him in months. There was no point -- it wouldn't change your situation.
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"I made you that strawberry cream cake, you know, your favorite?" Feyre's kind words filled the kitchen as you continued to pour glasses of lemonade, setting down the pitcher to meet her watercolor eyes. You gave her a soft smile.
"Thank you... but whatever for?" Her gaze dropped, fingers fiddling with one another as she looked around nervously. You arched a brow at her.
"Nothing, I just -- I thought you might like it. To celebrate the first day of Summer," she stuttered. You'd never seen her at a loss for words, but before you could think too long about it, Cassian barged into the room, eyes full of delight when he spotted the filled lemonade glasses.
"Ahh," he grabbed one and chugged it, putting it back on the counter after a few gulps as though it was a shot. You giggled, Feyre finding his interruption rather funny as well. He peered at you, sliding the glass over on the counter top.
"Fill 'er up -- Gods, it is so hot outside." He says, fingers fiddling with a small band tying his hair back. You top off his glass, and he takes it again, only sipping this time.
"Are you ladies joining us outside? Or what?" He asks giddily. You swear, if he wasn't a fae bat he would be a golden retriever.
"Absolutely," Feyre nods. He saunters out of the room, and within seconds you spy him by the edge of the Sidra tackling Rhysand into the river with him. They both come up within seconds, laughing and shaking their wet hair. Feyre peers out with you, and your heart catches when you see Azriel not joining in. He is sitting on one of the picnic blankets the group laid out, Elain's head in his lap as he leans back on his hands. She tenses, laughing at something he said. He gives her a smile; one you'd thought only he shared around you.
"I'll meet you outside in just a moment?" Feyre offers. She knew; she knew exactly how you'd felt for Azriel. But, she also knew that he was in some newfound, weird relationship since her sister arrived.
You tried to brush it off. Your best friend had lovers before; most of them only lasted a few weeks anyway, then they were gone. This one would be no different.
Finally making your way down to the river, tray of drinks in your hands, you were greeted by Mor as she helped pass out the drinks. She walked over to Feyre and Cassian; of course, leaving you to head over to Azriel.
You sighed, and walked over to the blanket where he sat. Her annoying laugh rang out again, and you winced. Azriel looked up, finally noting your presence and shielded his eyes from the sun with his hand. The unmistakable black writing on his forearm still reading "I choose you and me". Your heart swells just a bit.
"Y/N! Did you bring us drinks?" He asks nicely. You smile back, appreciating this side of him never failing to come out around his best friend.
"I just might have..." You say. Elain sits up upon hearing your voice, offerring a kind smile. You pass one glass to Azriel, and hold out another for her.
"Thank you Y/N! You must have known lemonade is my favorite," She takes it from you, beaming and turning to Azriel. He nods in agreement, sipping from his drink.
"Lucky guess." You say, grinding your teeth in a tight smile as you set down the empty tray on the grass. She giggles and continues conversing with Azriel, and you decide to not even try to engage this time.
You stalk over to the towel Mor is currently lounging on, her sunglasses set high on her nose. Your body creates a shadow, and she sits up grumbling.
"Ugh, Y/N, I'm trying to get a tan!" Her eyes finally adjust, seeing that you're stripping off your clothes, only a small emerald green bikini underneath. Her mouth pops open and she gasps, loud enough for everyone to hear. You're kicking off your shoes when she takes her glasses off and gapes at you.
"Girl, I'd let you stand over me any day -- you look good as fuck!" She squeals. You roll your eyes, her loud appraisal catching attention as she continues to compliment you.
"Seriously! Feyre, have you seen Y/N's suit? She is looking like fine wine-" She looks you up and down, and you notice behind her, Feyre has jogged over to where her friend Lucien has just arrived. Feyre turns her attention to you over Morrigan's whooping and hollering, giving you a thumbs up
"Looks good! I told you it would!" She shouts. She turns back to her Autumn court friend, but his eyes are drinking you in as though you are the wine itself. You steal a glance at Azriel, and boy are you glad you did -- he is pissed. He is glaring at Lucien as Elain babbles on, absentmindedly. She doesn't even realize he isn't listening to her anymore. You bend down, coming face to face with your bubbly blonde friend.
"Swim with me?" You say. She scoffs, tossing her sunglasses down and rising. You both walk to the bank of the Sidra, its gleaming water only inviting you in further.
"You know I'd never deny you, but I did want to lay out-" She is cut off by a strangled scream as Cassian yanks her in by the waist, her head reappearing moments later. Breathless, she pants.
"Cassian! Are you kidding?" Him and Rhysand only laugh, you shaking your head and chuckling along with them. You slowly enter the warm water, basking in the last few warm days the year has to offer. Mor wades past you, and makes to get out of the stream.
"Aww what! Where you goin'?" You whine pathetically. She runs her fingers through her soaked locks, huffing.
"I. Am not. Swimming. With those knuckleheads. Any longer." She stomps back over to her towel, and you stick your bottom lip out in feigned sadness.
"Aww, come on, Mor! You're already wet, just get back in and swim for a while!" You say. It isn't long before a splash to your left flings water near you, and you look around for a few moments before something grabs your ankles and drags you under. You come up a few moments later, Azriel resurfacing in front of you and laughing at your drenched complexion.
"I'll play." He says lowly. You shove his shoulder, and Mor waves a hand from her blanket, sunglasses already back on her face.
"Yes, yeah. Let Az play with you."
It isn't long before you're splashing around with your friends, everyone swimming besides Morrigan and Elain. Even Lucien has joined in, the water twirling his fiery locks over his shoulders. Maybe in another life, you'd fall in love with him.
But you're living this one, and you're still in love with your best friend.
"Hey, uhh," Azriel swims close to you, the sunset on the horizon illuminating his tanned skin. You can feel his hands creating water riplets around you to stay afloat, and you gaze at him. "Can we, like, swim over there? Maybe?" He asks, jerking his head toward the rocky alcove a few hundred feet away. Your eyes widen as you try not to think too hard about why he'd want you in there with him instead of his girlfriend; so you glance over to where everyone else is drying off and gathering their items. Elain is staring a hole into the side of your head.
"Sure," you say, timidly. Azriel grabs your hand under the water, his scarred fingers threading through yours with ease. You suck in a breath, and Azriel throws a smile towards Elain.
"We'll be in soon!" He shouts, and she returns the smile, almost a little smugly. She helps her sister collect the items from the grass, and Azriel stars swimming away, pulling you with him.
"Why did we need to come over here?" You ask, out of breath when he finally stops swimming behind a large rock. You can't see your friends anymore. You glance around nervously.
"Well, I had something I needed to talk to you about." He says. "Privately," he adds. Your cheeks heat. Its finally here, the moment has finally come.
"Oh, um. Okay. I think I have something I talk to you about too." You say. His eyebrows raise, and he smiles kindly at you.
"Oh! Alright. Well, why don't you go first then." He offers.
"I don't really... know... how to explain it." You fumble. The breeze blows over the water, pulling you away a bit. Azriel reaches for you, probably to hold you close but his hand grips onto your waist. He pulls a little too hard, and you're flush against his chest. His intense hazel eyes bore into yours, tiny water droplets dripping from the end of his onyx curls. Its silent for a moment, the mixed heavy breathing the only sound other than the nature around you. You gaze up at him, his eyes trailing down from your eyes... to your lips... then down to where your heaving chest rises and falls beneath the water's surface. Your eyes can't escape his full lips, and you snake your hands around his neck, pulling him in so impossibly close and close the gap.
Finally, after all these years, you get to taste those delicious lips on yours. You kiss him, softly, and when he pulls back, he looks at you with sorrow.
"Y/N... I..."
"I don't mind, Azriel. You know I love you; I want this. I would choose this. I choose you and me." Silver lines his eyes and you don't think you've ever seen him get so emotional. You pull him to you once more, kissing with more hunger this time, and he doesn't stop you. His hand scoops under your ass, squeezing and holding you tight, the other one flat against the side of your neck. His thumb brushes along your cheekbone as your fingers curl into his wet locks, when suddenly he rips away from you. He lets go as if he was a bug caught in a zapper, flinging himself away from you like you had electrocuted him. You instantly feel colder without his touch.
"W-what's wrong?" You ask, timidly. He runs a hand through his hair, and rubs his eyes with his palms, sighing.
"What is it, Azriel?" You ask, moving closer. He puts a hand out to stop you, and you begin to feel regret. No, not regret. Fear.
"Don't, Y/N." He says. You eyes close, near slits as you try and keep the sob rising in your throat at bay. He's never taken that tone with you before.
"Don't what? Be honest with you? Azriel, I love you, and-"
"I have a mate, Y/N." He cuts you off. You feel like you've been stabbed in the gut, thrown off a cliff; what was he talking about?
"W-what?" You ask. That sob is barely at bay, tears stinging your eyes as you try to keep from crying. He moves his hands to look at you, and immediately sighs and looks down at the water, hating to do this.
"Yeah... uh, Elain and I-"
"You've got to be fucking kidding me." You huff a humorless laugh and a single tear slips free. You don't bother brushing it away; you just cross your arms instead. He narrows his eyes at you.
"What is your problem with her?" He asks. The sinking feeling in your chest only intensifies as he defends her. You begin to feel angry, angry your best friend, who you'd die for, would defend another dumb girl who didn't know him like you did. Not even in the slightest.
"What is the problem with me?" You ask. He shoots you a confused look, and you continue. "Am I not quite good enough for you? Is that it? I'm not an Archeron, I'm not High Fae; I'm not officially in the Inner Circle? I don't-" You breathe, gasping for air as tears run down your cheeks now. "I don't look like her? I get it Azriel. I fucking got it. Loud and clear-"
"Shhh, shh shh. Heyy," he swims close, offerring you his hand. You want more than anything to fall into his chest and cry, just cry it all out; but you don't. You won't. He doesn't want you. He never did.
"You know none of that is true-"
"Don't bother." You say sharply. He sighs, dropping his hands in the water.
"Y/N, look I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, okay? You know how important mating bonds are; I just wanted to make sure it was real, and it would work and Feyre would be okay with it-"
"You... you already told. Feyre?" You seethe. His eyes widen, realizing maybe he shouldn't have revealed that information.
"I, uh... yeah. I did. And once she knew, it kind of got out and everyone knew," he mumbles. You clench your hands into fists.
Your favorite cake.
Elain's smug smile.
"Let Az play with you," Mor had said.
They all knew. No one told you. Not even your best friend. They knew you'd be hurt and not a single one of them told you. A small cry reverberates in your chest and you turn away from Azriel.
"Please don't be mad at me, Y/N. You know you're my best friend, you know I'd do anyth-"
"Save it." You say, wading toward the water's edge. "We're done here."
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You hadn't seen him since he accepted his bond with Elain six months ago; you couldn't even bring yourself to sit through the entire ceremony they hosted. It was all too much.
That was the first crushing blow. But then, to find out that not only had he accepted the bond and been happy about it, but now you were bonded to someone you didn't want either?
What a joke. The mating bond was a joke -- it had to be. All these years of believing that bonds were so special... it was all bullshit.
As you sit near the bank, you hear footsteps approaching behind you. You didn't quite care who it was; after all, you were so deep in loathing that you had grown distant from all of your friends over the past few months. It didn't help that the last words you'd hurled at them were unkind, but... maybe it's what they needed to hear. They did keep a huge thing from you, and you haven't even begun to figure out how to move on yet.
Moving on from Azriel sounded like it would be the end for you. You didn't know how you'd ever do it -- it was always him. There never was anyone else for you. You only wanted him.
And now he was honeymooning with his mate. Fucking her. Loving her. Allowing her to know him on a level only you'd ever been on.
Tears are streaming down your cheeks when a whisper pulls you from your thoughts.
"Y/N?"
You turn slowly, the last person you'd expected to see standing behind you. His hair was windblown, his skin tan from the Summer court sun. He had a few light freckles dusting his nose.
Upon seeing your upset state, he slowly approached you, and sat down beside you. Staring out at the water, you continued to let the tears fall, chin resting on your bent knees. His gaze was hot as he stared at you, taking you in fully.
"Y/N... this isn't okay... you're-" his voice cracks. "You're not okay." He whispers the last part, and your eyes meet his. Tears stream down his cheeks, dripping onto the cream colored button-down he's sporting. Typical Summer court fashion, but you should expect that as he did just spend time there.
He grabs onto your shoulders, pulling you to his chest. You have no choice but to sink in, open sobs emitting from your broken hearted chest. He breaths deeply, resting his chin atop your head. A drop of water lands on your shoulder, a tear. It's from him.
He holds you for a few minutes, allowing you to release all your emotions. He sighs, the sun dipping low alolng the horizon. You finally pull back and look at him. Nothing was going to change about your situation.
Your eyes caught on the black letters still imprinting his arm, fresh tears brimming your eyes.
"I hate seeing you like this," he says, sniffing. "You're my best friend Y/N. You always find the good in every situation, in everyone... that's why everyone loves you so much. You saw the good in me when no one else did." He says, rubbing your shoulder. You train your eyes on the grass below.
"I hate this too. But I love you," you say, not looking to meet his eyes. "If this is what is making you happy, I love that for you." He takes one of your hands in his.
"Y/N, it's just... Gods, this is a mess." He says. You let out a humorless laugh.
"Yeah. Even more of a mess now that I have a mate too." His eyes widen, and you look up just in time to see something swimming in those hazel orbs.
"Oh." He says. He drops your hand, but you reach over and place yours on top of where his now rests in his lap.
"The difference is, I would still choose you and me." You say, and he wipes a tear from your cheek. "I would always choose you and me. Because you're my best friend Azriel; and I love you. I don't know how to stop." You say. You lean back, resting your head in the grass as he gets comfortable laying beside you. His fingertips graze over the spot where he'd written on you -- marked you -- years back, reiterating the sentiment he'd etched there.
"And you're mine, too."
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ineed-to-sleep · 4 months
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We've started blocking it out babey *I say completely chill and cool and unaffected as if I didn't just become a pathetic beast screeching in pain on my tattoo artist's chair today for 2 hours*
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crunchycrystals · 1 year
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while im procrastinating on my homework im just gonna say im gonna be kind of very mad if that mv she's filming is actually for a midnights track lol i like the theory that its for long live though i think that would really fit if the vid is actually about taking back her work
#crunchyposts#ts#genuinely idk why im getting worked up over the idea that its not for a tv#if im wrong and its not a tv ill genuinely be mad#idk how mad but ill be mad a little bit lol#maybe bc im not super into karma and vigilante shit which are peoples main ideas for what it could be??????#but yeah. i also really like the idea its a way to reframe better than revenge with the revenge being the rerecordings themselves#HONESTLY NOW THAT IVE THOUGHT ABOUT IT A BIT MORE. I THINK IT MIGHT BE BC IF ITS JUST MORE FUCKING SPEAK NOW TV EASTER EGGS IM GONNA GO INS#INSANE#I RAN OUT OF TAG SPACE#LIKE WE ALREADY GOT THE GODDAMN. BEJEWELED MV WE ALL KNOW WHATS COMING NEXT (EXCEPT FOR ONE PERSON I SAW WHO SAID THERE WERE A TON OF 1989#EASTER EGGS IN THAT VID???????? DID WE WATCH THE SAME VID) AND IF ITS JUST MORE “OOOOH HINTS” IM GONNA FLIP A TABLE#SORRY i just want speak now tv#like we've known for months its the next one coming based on bejeweled. also i think the copyright stuff is being cleared up rn#we dont need more easter eggs!!!!!!! please dear lord just give us a date like red tv i dont care how far away it is its fine#ok. ive calmed down. idk what happened to me there. the worst part is really knowing that somethings coming but not knowing when#i think i am More Fine with speak now easter eggs but. still id really prefer more callbacks rather than hints its driving me up the wall#bejeweled was so clear!!!!!!! enchanted and long live in the background and the koi and the elevator and the dragons#and then nothing happened for months and we were just left in the dark!!!!!!!!
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foone · 7 months
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why are printers so hated? it's simple:
computers are good at computering. they are not good at the real world.
the biggest problems in computers, the ones that have had to change the most over the time they've existed, are the parts that deal with the real world. The keyboard, the mouse, the screen. every computer needs these, but they involve interacting with the real world. that's a problem. that's why they get replaced so much.
now, printers: printers have some of the most complex real-world interaction. they need to deposit ink on paper in 2 dimensions, and that results in at least three ways it can go on right from the start. (this is why 3D printers are just 2D printers that can go wrong in another whole dimension)
scanners fall into many of the same problems printers have, but fewer people have scanners, and they're not as cost-optimized. But they are nearly as annoying.
This is also why you can make a printer better by cutting down on the number of moving elements: laser printers are better than inkjets, because they only need to move in one dimension, and their ink is a powder, not a liquid. and the best-behaved printers of all are thermal printers: no ink and the head doesn't move. That's why every receipt printer is a thermal printer, because they need that shit to work all the time so they can sell shit. And thermal is the most reliable way to do that.
But yeah, cost-optimization is also a big part of why printers are such finicky unreliable bastards: you don't want to pay much for them. Who is excited for all the printing they're gonna be doing? basically nobody. But people get forced to have a printer because they gotta print something, for school or work or the government or whatever. So they want the cheapest thing that'll work. They're not shopping on features and functionality and design, they want something that costs barely anything, and can fucking PRINT. anything else is an optional bonus.
And here's the thing: there's a fundamental limit of how much you can optimize an inkjet printer, and we got near to it in like the late 90s. Every printer since then has just been a tad smaller, a tad faster, and added some gimmicks like printing from WIFI or bluetooth instead of needing to plug in a cable.
And that's the worst place to be in, for a computer component. The "I don't care how fancy it is, just give me one that works" zone. This is why you can buy a keyboard for 20$ and a mouse for 10$ and they both work plenty fine for 90% of users. They're objectively shit compared to the ones in the 60-150$ range, but do they work? yep. So that's what people get.
Printers fell into that zone long, long ago, when people stopped getting excited about "desktop publishing". So with printers shoved into the "make them as cheap as possible" zone, they have gotten exponentially shittier. Can you cut costs by 5$ a printer by making them jam more often? good. make them only last a couple years to save a buck or two per unit? absolutely. Can you make the printer cost 10$ less and make that back on the proprietary ink cartridges? oh, they've been doing that since Billy Clinton was in office.
It's the same place floppy disks were in in about 2000. CD-burners were not yet cheap enough, USB flash drives didn't exist yet (but were coming), modems weren't fast enough yet to copy stuff over the internet, superfloppies hadn't taken over like some hoped, and memory cards were too expensive and not everyone had a drive for them. So we still needed floppy disks, but at the same time this was a technology that hadn't changed in nearly 20 years. So people were tired of paying out the nose for them... the only solution? cut corners. I have floppy disks from 1984 that read perfectly, but a shrinkwrapped box of disks from 1999 will have over half the disks failed. They cut corners on the material quality, the QA process, the cleaning cloth inside the disk, everything they could. And the disks were shit as a result.
So, printers are in that particular note of the death-spiral where they've reached the point of "no one likes or cares about this technology, but it's still required so it's gone to shit". That's why they are so annoying, so unreliable, so fucking crap.
So, here's the good news:
You can still buy a better printer, and it will work far better. Laser printers still exist, and LED printers work the same way but even cheaper. They're still more expensive than inkjets (especially if you need color), but if you have to print stuff, they're a godsend. Way more reliable.
This is not a stable equilibrium. Printers cannot limp along in this terrible state forever. You know why I brought up floppy disk there? (besides the fact I'm a giant floppy disk nerd) because floppy disks GOT REPLACED. Have you used one this decade? CD-Rs and USB drives and internet sharing came along and ate the lunch of floppy disks, so much so that it's been over a decade since any more have been made. The same will happen to (inkjet) printers, eventually. This kind of clearly-broken situation cannot hold. It'll push people to go paperless, for companies to build cheaper alternatives to take over from the inkjets, or someone will come up with a new, more reliable printer based on some new technology that's now cheap enough to use in printers. Yeah, it sucks right now, but it can't last.
So, in conclusion: Printers suck, but this is both an innate problem caused by them having to deal with so much fucking Real World, and a local minimum of reliability that we're currently stuck in. Eventually we'll get out of this valley on the graph and printers will bother people a lot less.
Random fun facts about printing of the past and their local minimums:
in the hot metal type era, not only would the whole printing process expose you to lead, the most common method of printing text was the linotype, which could go wrong in a very fun way: if the next for a line wasn't properly justified (filling out the whole row), it could "squirt", and lead would escape through gaps in the type matrix. This would result in molten lead squirting out of the machine, possibly onto the operator. Anecdotally, linotype operators would sometimes recognize each other on the street because of the telltale spots on their forearms where they had white splotches where no hair grew, because they got bad lead burns. This type of printing remained in use until the 80s.
Another fun type of now-retired printers are drum printers, a type of line printer. These work something like a typewriter or dot-matrix printer, except the elements extend across the entire width of the paper. So instead of printing a character at time by smacking it into the paper, the whole line got smacked nearly at once. The problem is that if the paper jammed and the printer continued to try to print, that line of the paper would be repeatedly struck at high speed, creating a lot of heat. This worry created the now-infamous Linux error: "lp0 on fire". This was displayed when the error signals from a parallel printer didn't make sense... and it was a real worry. A high speed printer could definitely set the paper on fire, though this was rare.
So... one thing to be grateful about current shitty inkjet printers: they are very unlikely to burn anything, especially you.
(because before they could do that they'd have to work, at least a little, first, and that's very unlikely)
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dreaming-medium · 1 month
Text
No Contact
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader
Word Count: 7.6k
Tags: ANGST with a happy ending, amnesia, memory loss, grief, pining, yearning, hurt/comfort
Summary: It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen. You weren't supposed to be in that car, but you were. When you lose your memories from the incident, Chan is ordered to stay away for your recovery's sake; but it takes a larger toll on him than anyone could have imagined. Until one day, he just can't take it anymore.
A/N: inspired by this post. Angst ahoy <3 I had too much fun writing this. Maybe I like writing emotions. Enjoy <3
—————————————————————
No contact. That’s what Chan was told was best for you. That’s what was going to help your healing process. 
No contact whatsoever. No texts, no calls, no little surprise visits. No fucking contact. None. 
He was told it would just hurt you if he talked to you— that he would just make it worse. That you would only become more confused and upset. It would be absolutely detrimental for him to see you.
Hell, it might even make you worse. 
It’s killing Chan slowly. Every single day feels like torture for him. The days get exponentially worse. He feels like a hollow shell of his former self, like the wind goes through him when he steps foot outside. It feels like his shoulders are permanently sagged forward. 
But the worst part is that you don’t even know it. You don’t know how he’s collapsing inwards like a dying star. 
It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen in years. A friend was driving you home that night; Chan had begged to be the one to pick you up, but no, you said it was fine, the friend was heading that way anyway. Why make the unnecessary trip?
You told him he needed sleep. Always putting his needs before your own. You always did. 
He should’ve put up more of a fuss. He should’ve put his foot down. He should’ve already been outside the house in his car with the passenger seat warmer on by the time you left that stupid party. 
He should’ve gotten out of the car and opened the door for you and had a cold bottle of water waiting in the cup holder. He should’ve kissed you on the cheek and asked you all about your time. He should have been there.
But he wasn’t. 
A drunk driver slammed into the passenger side of your friend’s car at a speed that you shouldn’t have even survived.
Miracles do happen, though. But what a price to pay for a miracle. 
For as long as he lives, Chan will never forget the sheer panic and terror he felt when the call came in from your mother. You were already at the hospital undergoing emergency surgery.
He was the last to know. 
After all, he wasn’t your emergency contact. He’s only your boyfriend.
Was. Was your boyfriend. Was? Is that the right word? He isn’t. But he is. There was no breakup. 
Is that what he’s going through right now? A breakup? 
You’re not on a break. But what is this? What is this loss? This severance is so horrible. 
It’s fucked up. It’s a fucked up, amnesia induced breakup. 
Memory loss is a funny thing. Doctors scratch their heads and shrug their shoulders without any answers. The brain is a tricky thing. 
Chan did what he was allowed to in that hospital. He sat in that stark white room under those harsh LED lights and he waited until you were awake. He even waited much longer after that because only two visitors were permitted inside your room at a time— and he wasn’t about to force his way in and kick one of your parents out. 
He let your sister go in first. He even let your cousin go in before him. But when it was finally his turn… 
He never got to see you. 
“The last five years?” Chan asked with a tight throat. Did he even have any more tears left to cry? How is there any liquid left in his body?
“She says doesn’t remember anything, Chan.” Your mother’s voice was just as hollow as his. “She was asking about her freshman roommate.”
A doctor stood in between him and your mom. “It’s best if we don’t throw everything at her at once. Amnesia victims rarely never get their memories back, but we’ve found that it needs to happen organically. Seeing her will overwhelm her and that could stunt the healing process.”
Chan’s mouth opened and closed several times but no words came out at all. His heart may have stopped. 
Does that mean…?
No…
“He can’t see her at all?” Your mother asked quietly. “Not even to visit? He doesn’t have to mention he’s her boyfriend, he can just say that he’s a friend, or a coworker, or—“
The doctor cut her off. “No contact. Not until we’re a bit through recovery and she’s starting to get her memories back.”
Chan was suddenly in a chair. 
When did he sit down? The Doctor’s hands were on his shoulders and he was looking down at him with a sympathetic stare.  
“It’s not forever, son.”
Chan was only able to nod. His mouth was so dry, the back of his neck felt clammy. His head was spinning.
Books often speak of moments as ‘Earth-shattering’. Of moments so catastrophic that the planet stops spinning on its axis and time stands still.
He gets it now. 
The doctor spoke a few more words to your mother before walking away. She looked down at Chan sadly. 
Your mother sat on the chair next to him and wrapped him up in a hug. His world was falling apart around him. You were slipping through his fingers. He couldn’t even see you.
Hot tears poured down his face while he sat there with his head in his hands. Why does it feel like he’s losing you? Why is this the only way? Why are these the cards that are being dealt?
Why didn’t he pick you up from that fucking party?
“She loves you, Chan… she’ll come to her senses, I promise, I promise.”
It’s been two months, one week, two days and eight hours since he’s talked to you. That long since he’s known peace. Since he’s known any sort of comfort. 
You’re the last thing he thinks about before he closes his eyes at night and the first thing he thinks about in the morning. No matter how many times he wakes up and feels the cold bed next to him, it never dulls the ache in his chest.
It’s not a healthy mindset, he knows. And it’s not that you were codependent on one another, that’s not it at all. You were just… ripped away from him. 
Food has no taste. The sky isn’t as blue as it used to be. Clouds don’t make fun shapes like they did with you by his side. The stars are still in the sky, he thinks, he hasn’t had the guts to look at them. 
God, you love the stars so much. You always talked about how pretty they are— how absolutely breath-taking you think the universe is. Chan would simply listen, he would always listen. All he ever wanted to do was listen.
How is he supposed to look at anything the same way? How is any day supposed to be normal when half of his life is suddenly missing. What’s the point of making music if you’re not there to listen to it?
5:00 PM is the hardest hour to get through. You don’t open the door to his apartment when you get off work. You don’t tell him about the things that happened during your shift. 
He can’t leave little snacks out on the counter for you to eat when you get home like he used to. 
Mice would get to it before you did. 
His lonely apartment is slowly losing your smell. He could spray your perfume, sure, you keep a bottle at his place, but it’s not the same. You somehow made the scent sweeter by letting it linger on your skin. 
All of your old toiletries are still there where you left them. Your spare toothbrush has been bone dry and untouched since 9:28 AM that morning. Your shampoo bottles are still half full and waiting for you on your shower shelf.
It had rained a few days before your accident. You had started a puzzle on his dining room table that day– you told him it was the perfect rainy day activity. It was a picture of different comic book covers. It’s now collecting dust. Unmoved and unsolved. 
Just like him.
It was a battle and a half to throw away your leftovers from two nights before your car accident. He felt like he was throwing away your normal life, your tiny domestic traces. 
He didn’t want to cleanse you from his life, but you were washing away. Your ghost was eroding with time. 
Your spare car keys are still hanging on the key ring. Your rain coat is on the third hook draped right over your work bag. Even your phone charger is still plugged into the wall on your side of the bed.
Did you know you forgot to put your favorite gold earrings on that night? You left them on the nightstand. They’re still there, don’t worry. Right next to the glass of water you drank half of. 
Do you even remember them…? He got them for you for your first Christmas together. 
There are so many signs of a life interrupted integrated so deeply into his. 
You’re a clock whose hands stopped suddenly at 1:24 AM. 
This sort of haunting is unbearable. You’re not a phantom in his life, though. You’re something so unattainable that he had once but it was taken away with empty promises of return. 
It’s like you’re a shiny diamond hidden away beneath lasers and traps like in those stupid, cheesy spy movies you love so much. 
Do you know what he would give to watch one of those with you in his arms right now? 
Chan feels like he’s banging on the glass of a one sided window, screaming for you to remember him. Meanwhile you’re on the other side only staring into a mirror, trying to pick up the pieces from before. 
Your mom sends him updates on your condition all the time. He knows that you started working at the local library about three weeks ago. 
You had worked there in college before graduating and getting your last job. It was one of your favorite jobs you ever had. That library was so special to you. 
To him too. 
It’s the library where he first met you. 
The same library Chan finds himself in front of now. 
He shouldn’t go in. He can’t go in. He absolutely should not go inside. 
Bang Chan you should not and cannot go inside this library. Under no circumstances should you step foot inside this building where your other half is working. 
Absolutely not. 
The door emits a soft ding when he opens it. Electronic. Quiet. Peaceful. 
There’s a certain type of silence that sits in a library. It’s closer, thicker— warmer. It’s an expected silence. They’re supposed to be quiet. 
Chan can hear his sneakers take every step on the carpeted floor. There’s no one sitting behind the front desk; that’s where you usually were. 
His eyes look all around, but there’s no sign of you anywhere. A few people toddle around the shelves. 
There’s more soft beeping coming from the self checkout. That’s new. They didn’t have that when you worked here years ago. You probably hate it. 
On the day he met you, you were wearing a pair of dark green pants and a black long sleeve shirt. Your hair was clipped behind your head and pieces were falling over your face. 
Chan was only in the library to look for the bathroom. He was on his way to lunch with a friend, but he just had to stop somewhere. The library was the closest option. 
When he had heard the sound of books falling, he investigated and found you in the center of the carnage, the glasses on your nose sat crookedly and you rubbed your head. 
Your eyes met. He was a goner. 
How disgustingly poetic that he finds himself here now. Where he really shouldn’t be. He was quite literally prescribed a restraining order against you. 
Chan meanders around with his hands in his pockets, the silence getting louder and louder the further he gets inside.
Maybe you’re not working today? 
No one is anywhere to be seen. He’s checking down all the aisles but he doesn’t see you anywhere. 
Maybe it’s for the best that you’re not here. He’s not supposed to see you anyway. He’s breaking the doctor’s rules by doing this anyway. 
He needs to leave. He needs to get out of here. 
His feet stop in front of the very aisle where he saw you for the first time. 
Empty. 
You-less. 
If he thinks hard enough, Chan can picture you in front of him, laughing quietly with the most adorable, embarrassed blush on your cheeks. 
What a moment. 
Is it possible to spend eternity in that moment? Obviously internal clocks can be rewound, paused, flipped every which way; can he go back to that day? Can he go back to the day where every single poem suddenly made sense?
He would take any day, really, any day that had you in it. Birthdays, holidays, late night dates, Hell, he’d even take a day where he only saw you when you dropped off a drink for him in his studio. 
Anything, he would take anything just to see your smile bloom on your face while he watches.
“Can I help you find something?”
His breath catches in his throat, it feels like he’s physically punched in the chest. That voice. That beautiful, melodic voice. He hasn’t heard it in person in months, only in videos he had on his phone. 
Slowly, Chan turns to face the source of his favorite pitch. 
His throat immediately tightens. 
There you are. You. Beautiful you. 
Standing right there. Looking at him like a complete fucking stranger. 
“I…” his voice is hoarse. Chan can feel the tears in his eyes begin to form. He didn’t think this through, did he?
You’re staring at him expectantly, waiting for him to say anything. You’re waiting, come on, Chan. Speak up. Say something. 
Looking up at the shelf, you look back down at him with a smile. “A history guy, hm?”
No.
“Yeah.”
You giggle. “I always had a thing for History.”
He knows. 
“Really?”
“Mhmm.” You respond with a grin. 
Specifically Ancient Rome. He knows. 
You continue. “Specifically Ancient Rome.”
Chan nods and clears his throat. His palms feel so sweaty. His chest is almost panting. Every single cell in his body just wants to lunge forward and wrap you in a hug. 
He wants to bury his face in your neck and sob while you hold him. He wants to tell you that he missed you so much. He wants to tell you how your pillow is losing the scent of your shampoo. He wants to tell you that he’s been DVR-ing your favorite show so that you can watch it later. He wants to tell you about his day. He wants to kiss you until you’re breathless. He wants you to hear the new song he’s been working on.
But—
“If you need anything, let me know.”
You start to walk away.
Chan feels his heart physically break. It’s happening again. He’s on the other side of that one way mirror. It’s happening again! No, no please. 
His eyes widen, the words get caught in his throat. Fuck, Y/N, please!
“W-Wait!” he says quickly. 
You turn around with a curious look. 
“The Odyssey,” he blurts. “Where uh… where can I find it?”
Your eyes light up. “Oh, I love The Odyssey.”
He knows. You collect different translations of it. 
“I collect different translations of that book, here I’ll show you where it is.”
With a little hop in your step you lead him towards all the classics. 
He watches you like you’re an oasis in the desert— maybe it’s because you are. You’re what he’s been crawling towards for two months. 
You lead him all the way to the shelf where the Odyssey lives. Your nimble fingers reach forward and grab one of the copies. 
Green nail polish. You still paint your nails green. You picked that habit up a year after he met you. 
The memories have to be there, Y/N, they have to be. Chan bought you that first bottle of green nail polish as a joke on Saint Patrick’s Day. 
Y/N, please. 
“This translation is my favorite,” you whisper and hand him the book. 
Chan smiles sadly and takes the book from you, unable to meet your eyes. He knows if he gazes into those gorgeous eyes that he’ll lose it. He’ll fall to his knees and cry. 
“Thank you,” he whispers back. 
You stand there for a moment, he can feel your eyes on his face. He always has been able to tell when you were looking at him, it’s a little, secret superpower. 
From foot to foot, your weight shifts. 
You only do that when you’re confused. Why are you confused? Y/N, are you confused?
“I’m sorry…” you start, sounding so unsure. “You remind me of someone…”
It feels like a defibrillator was hooked up to his chest. Chan’s eyes widen and he finally looks up at you. 
You’re looking at him so carefully. He can see the gears turning in your head. Your tongue pokes out of your lips and wets them. 
Y/N, please. 
“I just… I can’t figure out who. Do I… do I know you? I was—” You stop yourself. 
Fuck. Fuck! What was he supposed to say? Fuck! 
Chan wants to scream. He wants to grab you by the shoulders and cry that he’s your soulmate, that he’s the person that knows you better than anyone else in this world. 
Yes, you do, you do know him. And he knows you. He knows how you take your coffee, what movies make you cry, what color jell-o is your favorite. 
He knows that you never wear matching socks and you always lift your feet when driving over railroad tracks. 
He knows that when you were 6 you ran into the corner of a cabinet and that’s how you got that scar next to your eyebrow. 
Chan knows that your entire life you wanted to be an author but you’re so scared of failure that you decided not to chase after it. 
He knows everything. 
“I just have one of those faces, I guess.” It comes out of his mouth so strained. 
You stare back at him so carefully. Do you see right through him?
“Maybe,” you say slowly. You don’t believe him. He knows that tone. You absolutely do not believe a word he’s saying. “Are you sure?”
Chan swallows, he grips the book in his hand tighter. The lump in his throat almost doesn’t go down, more tears prick at his eyes. 
“I would never forget a face like yours,” he chokes out. 
Your eyes widen and you blush, looking to the side with a smile. You always were a sucker for cheesy compliments. 
After thinking for a second, you reach into your pocket and take out a little slip of paper. 
“Here,” you say after scribbling something down. Holding it out, Chan sees it’s your phone number. He has it memorized. “If you ever need more books to read… or find… call me.”
Chan takes the paper with a racing heart. He gives you a smile, his dimples showing. “I think I will,” he whispers to you. 
Another few moments pass of you just staring at him before you nod and giggle nervously. “Well, I gotta get back to work, so..”
Chan nods and moves to the side. You walk past him. 
Your perfume curls around him like a blanket and he craves that sweet serenity he finds when he holds you close and breathes you in. 
Three steps after you pass him, you turn around. “Oh, I didn’t catch your name.”.
“Chan,” he answers softly. 
“Chan,” you repeat. It goes right through him. 
Your voice. Your sweet, beautiful, melodic voice. Finally, he heard you say his name again.
“I’m Y/N,” you whisper to him with a friendly smile. 
“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Chan has to physically force the word ‘meet’ out of his mouth. 
“You too, Chan.”
And with that, you were gone, retreating back into your fortress of papyrus. 
—————————————————————
A bad idea was going into the library that day. 
An even worse idea was texting you the day after to ask how your day is going. 
And then an absolutely fucking idiotic move was asking if you wanted to go to dinner with him. 
And the worst part? You said yes. 
So, now here Chan was, standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom getting ready for what you thought was a first date, but to him was just a dinner date. 
How is he supposed to do this? He’s not, that’s how. 
Chan fiddles with his bracelet right before his phone rings. 
His heart drops when he sees the caller ID, your mother. 
“Ah, fuck…” he whispers before grabbing his phone. Of course you were going to tell your mom, you tell your mom everything. 
“Hello?” he asks warily into the phone. 
“Hi, Chan,” she says slowly, she sounds nervous, why does she sound nervous. 
“How are you? Is everything okay?”
“It’s Y/N…” Her voice lowers. Chan’s heart drops. “Before you panic, she’s okay! It’s um.. she’s getting ready right now… for a date…”
Chan isn’t moving. Yes, he knows you are. He knows it. But words won’t form in his mouth. 
“Channie.. I’m starting to wonder if that doctor isn’t right.. I can’t stand the thought of her finding someone else when you’re waiting for her… I tried to talk her out of it but she just seems so floaty and happy. God, I feel sick to my stomach.”
His jaw clenches. Now or never. 
“It’s with me,” he blurts. 
Your mom goes silent. Then a huge sigh comes out of her mouth. 
“I wish I could say I’m angry,” a little laugh follows it. “I think I’m only angry that you didn’t say something.”
He tells her everything, down to the way he pretended not to know you. 
“Well, you’re going to have to tell her eventually.” Your mom sounds unsure, herself. 
“Or maybe she’ll remember me.”
“What if she doesn’t?”
Chan sits down on the edge of his bed. His eyes are staring at the wall, unfocused. 
She’s right. What if you don’t? 
“Then, I’ll just … do it all again.”
Silence greets him on the other side of the line. Another tiny laugh comes from your mom. “I always knew you two were perfect together. Just like two magnets, you always come towards one another.”
—————————————————————
“I’ve never eaten here before,” you say with a chipper smile on your face from across the table. 
Yes, you have. 
“Really?” Chan asks, taking a sip of his water. 
“I pass it all the time and always wondered how the food was.”
He looks back down at the old menu. 
This restaurant was more than special to him. It’s where he took you on your first date. It’s an old fashioned burger joint with the greasiest, most delicious French fries in town. 
The first time you guys came here, you talked and talked until the place closed. And even after that, you drove around and talked until it was late. 
“I’ve been here a few times, it’s really good. The milkshakes are some of the best I’ve ever had.” Chan’s sweaty hands fiddle with the menu. 
He’s more nervous now than on the first date. 
“What’s the best one?” you ask with a smile. 
A small laugh comes out of his nose. “The peanut butter one.”
It was your favorite. 
“Yeah but then you can’t have any,” you say so nonchalantly, looking down at the menu. 
His eyebrows knit together. “What?”
“‘Cause of your allergy.”
He stops. 
You stop. 
He has a peanut allergy. Chan has a peanut allergy. 
His lips purse like he’s going to say something but you beat him to the punch. 
“I’m sorry,” you blurt out. “I… I don’t know why I thought that.” Your hands grip the menu a little tighter. “Maybe I’m thinking of someone else?”
Chan shakes his head. “No, no, it’s okay. I… I do have a peanut allergy. Maybe I said something before?”
You stare at him for a long second before looking back down at the menu once more. “Yeah… um. Maybe.”
He definitely did not say something. 
Dinner continues on. Chan listens to you talk and pretends he’s never heard your stories before and he tells you ones he knows he’s said before. 
The entire time, you were beaming at him, just like you used to before the accident. Your face never loses its constant happy glow. He’s not sure that the muscles in your face know how to frown.  
You’re the last two people in the restaurant. The staff doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe they recognize you both. Maybe. 
A lull dips into your conversation. Both of you know you should leave. Neither wants to. Especially the broken man sitting across from you. 
Chan takes the last sip of his drink. The bill has been paid for about an hour at this point. You’re looking down at your lap with a pink flush on your cheeks. 
You bite your lip and look up at Chan carefully. 
“Are you… are you sure I don’t know you, Chan?”
He stares at you. Did you know that you always bite your lip like that when you’re confused? 
“I just… I really feel like I know you. There’s just…” you pause, trying to find your words. He knows you want to tell him about the accident. He knows you want to say it but you don’t want to weird him out. 
What the fuck is he supposed to do? What is he supposed to tell you? 
“Something happened to me a little while ago, my brain’s been… fuzzy since then,” you explain shyly. “I know you said you don’t know me but I just… I can’t help feel like that’s not true.”
Chan’s jaw clenches, his knee bounces anxiously underneath the table. His head turns to the side in his typical nervous tick. 
Your mother’s words echo in his mind, his tongue suddenly feels like it’s swelling to the size of his mouth— making him unable to speak. Should he tell you? Is it now or never?
“I don’t mean to make it weird, Chan.”
He licks his lips and opens his mouth. 
Your phone rings. 
A sigh of relief comes from deep within Chan’s chest. 
Reluctantly, you pick up the phone and hold it to your ear. “Hello? …. No, I didn’t know…. Yeah, of course…. Sure… Yeah, see you tomorrow.”
Just as quickly as you answered the phone, you hang up. 
“Sorry,” you mumble. “Someone called out of work for tomorrow, they need me to come in.”
“Do you need to get going?” Chan asks, looking down at the time. It’s well past 10 o’clock. 
A sad smile crosses your face. “I mean… probably.” The time on your watch flashes back at you. He can tell you don’t want to go home yet. 
“Come on, Y/N, I’ll walk you home.”
Chan’s already standing up from the table, picking his jacket up off the back of his chair. You watch his movements and slowly get up, your movements screaming reluctance. 
—————————————————————
It’s three dates later when the two of you are walking down the street towards your house. It’s only a few blocks from here, but you both decide to take a tiny detour through the local park. 
“I have to say I’m a little excited to meet your friends,” you giggle. “I hope that’s not weird.”
You already have. 
“It’s not weird at all. I’m sure they’d like you.” Chan nudges your arm with his elbow, his hands staying in his pocket. 
“Changbin sounds like a blast.”
He was your favorite before.
“The two of you…” Chan thinks over his words carefully. “The two of you would definitely cause some mischief.”
And you have. 
A tiny lull of comfortable silence falls over the conversation. 
Both of you meander towards the swings. A cold wind blows through the air but neither of you react to it. 
With a tiny giggle, you sit down on one of the swings and hold onto the chains on the side. 
You are just so… you. You’re just your authentic self. Amnesia or not, you haven’t changed a bit. It’s so charming.
“I can’t remember the last time I went on the swings.” You start to move your body back and forth, not too much but enough to get the tiny thrill the toy brings. 
Chan walks up and stands next to you, his hand coming out and grabbing at the chain of the swing next to yours. 
The brightest smile stretches over your face. 
God, it really doesn’t take a lot to make you smile, does it? He guesses that means it doesn’t take a lot for him either since he smiles when you do.
He can’t help it.
He watches you move back and forth, the cold breeze kicking up a bit more and blowing dead leaves across the sidewalk. 
“What’s wrong, Chan? Allergic to swings?” you tease. 
He rolls his eyes with a smirk. “No, I just far more enjoy watching you have fun.”
Your cheeks flush. If he didn’t know you, maybe he would’ve chocked it up to the cold. But he knows the difference between your blush and the elements now. 
“You’re a smooth talker, Bang Chan.”
“It comes easy with you, Y/N L/N.”
Another laugh from you. 
“Shameless flirt.”
He puts his hand on his chest in mock hurt. “Ouch! I just speak the truth, that’s all. Not my fault I like seeing you blush.”
Every word that comes out of his mouth feels so natural. If he really thinks about it, he’s in a weirdly unique situation. Not many couples get to start over, to feel those butterflies again. But here he is, his palms starting to get sweaty as he imagines kissing you. 
Would you call it a first kiss? Maybe. 
It has been four dates. It wouldn’t be.. inappropriate to kiss you, would it? The two of you kissed on your third date a few years ago. 
He wants to kiss you so bad. 
Should he? Shouldn’t he? God, why is this so hard?
Chan reaches out and grabs the chain of your swing, pulling it to a very gentle stop. 
“Uh oh, fun police,” you tease and look up at him with a grin. 
Looking down at you, Chan allows his eyes to look over every detail of your face that he already had memorized. You haven’t changed at all except the new scar on the side of your forehead from the accident. 
It’s the same eyes, same nose, same chin that he fell in love with so long ago. 
The same asymmetrical eyes that you’re so self conscious of but he loves. Your hair is wind blown and splayed every which way. It adds a childish charm to your features. 
Very carefully, Chan moves his free hand down to cup your cheek. His warm palm soothes your ice cold face. He hears your breath catch in your throat at his touch. 
His thumb swipes over your cheek, fingertips run down the soft lines of your jawline. Eventually his thumb ends up under your chin which he tilts up. 
Your eyes sparkle. They somehow capture the light of the lamps around the playground. But they’ve always done that. 
You’re always so enchanting.
Is this a good idea? 
Is kissing you the best option? 
But does he even have the strength to stop himself now?
Almost three months without feeling your lips on his has been torture, and here he is, with you in his hands and there’s still this nagging feeling that he should stop. 
One look into your eyes quells that anxiety. 
Your eyes keep flickering down to his own lips, the shaky breath you let out is hot against his fingers. Everything feels warmer compared to the air outside. 
He can’t take it anymore. 
Chan leans down and presses his lips to yours. They’re warm and slightly chapped.
But, my god, he’s never felt anything this heavenly before. It’s like his entire body unwinds. Like a fire was lit inside his stomach. 
He moves his hand to the back of your head and keeps your lips pressed against his. Your head tilts to the side slightly. It’s just like he remembers. 
It’s just the first kiss, he can’t let himself get carried away. He can’t. 
He can’t let his fingers wind through your hair. He can’t melt into your touch on his cheek. He can’t let himself drown in your lips. 
But he is. 
He’s letting you consume his very soul in one kiss. 
How can something feel so healing yet hurt so badly at the same time? It’s like you’re ripping open a wound and bandaging it at the same time. 
No matter how hard he tries, he can’t bring his lips away from yours. Your hand slides down to caress his jawline with those soft, manicured fingers. 
Your lips open and close over his like mirror images. The feeling shoots straight down into Chan’s gut. It’s like the first time for him all over again. 
Those butterflies are going insane in his stomach. Your scent kicks up in the wind and he can’t help but take a large breath through his nose. 
God, he can’t stop himself. It feels too good. 
His hand moves from the back of your hair to cup your cheek and bring you closer. 
He immediately stops. 
Why is your face wet?
Chan pulls away from the kiss and looks down at you with concern written all over his expression. 
You’re crying. Why … why are you crying?
Your eyes open and you look at him confused. 
“Chan?” you whisper. You’re confused too. What?
“Why are you crying, Y/N?” he asks with a thick voice.
Your eyes widen and your own hand comes up to swipe at your cheeks. Sure enough, you’re met with tears. 
“I… I don’t know,” you say so quietly. “I-I’m not sure.”
Chan starts backing away, your eyes snap to focus on his. Your hand shoots up to grab at his to keep him there. You’re still so confused. 
Emotions are flying through your eyes. It almost looks like someone is clicking a light switch on and off in the back of your mind. A lightbulb is flickering in your soul like a dying neon sign in an old shop window. 
Every muscle in your face is twitching.
What’s happening?
“Channie—“ your own voice cuts off by a sob. 
Chan’s heart jumpstarts. You haven’t called him that… not in two months… that’s what you and your mother called him before the accident. 
Are you…? Are you remembering? What’s happening?
Please. 
Slowly, your hand falls from his. 
Chan stays there, unmoving like a statue. What’s happening inside your mind right now? It looks like you’re reaching and reaching for something that you can’t quite put your finger on. 
He's watching you struggle. It’s like when you can’t remember a word. It’s right there. It’s on the tip of your tongue.
You gulp, your eyes leave his and you look down at your lap. The dirt crunches under your feet as you shuffle your shoes around.
Chan swipes his thumb over your cheek, brushing away the tears. He’s biting back his own. 
“It’s okay—“ “I’m sorry—“ are both said at the exact same time. 
He knew it was coming. He knows you. But you don’t know him. Not anymore. 
But you do.
“It wasn’t the kiss. I—“ 
“It’s okay, Y/N.”
You know him. 
“Chan, I really loved the kiss.”
Chan. Not Channie. 
He brushes his thumb over your lips. “It’s okay,” he repeats gently. “You don’t have to explain.”
His other hand comes up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your eyes slide shut at the sensation. 
Your bottom lip quivers and you pull it into your mouth and bite it. With a tight swallow, your throat bobs. 
“It happens sometimes,” you whisper. “It’s from the accident I had.”
Chan continues to soothingly rub your skin with his thumb. Slowly, he kneels down to be in front of you rather than leaning over. 
The dirt is cold on his knee. It seeps through the fabric of his pants. He couldn’t care less. 
“You don’t have to talk about it,” he whispers back to you. 
You shake your head gently, your hands folding in your lap. “No, no. I… I want to tell you. I need to tell you. It’s been happening more and more whenever I’m around you. It’s like every touch, every word you say bounces around my brain and makes me feel the worst case of deja vu.
“Every time I’m with you I feel like I’m trying to recall a dream I had last night but I just can’t remember what it was.”
You’re rambling. You only ramble when you’re overwhelmed and scared. 
“Chan, every time I’m with you it feels like some part of me is screaming to be let out.”
Your eyes open and you stare right through him. Chan feels his heart squeeze and almost stop completely. Despite your best efforts, the tears keep coming. 
“I was in a car accident a few months ago. I had such a severe concussion that I lost the last five years of my memory.” 
How is your voice so even?
Chan’s jaw clenches. Fuck fuck fuck. 
He knows. Yes, Y/N. He knows. Fuck, does he know! If anyone fucking knows, it’s him. 
“I—“ he starts but you cut him off. 
“Please,” you choke out and take a deep breath. “And since then I’ve been getting bits and pieces of my memory back. Sometimes they’re in large chunks, other times they just … come back.
“When I try to think about my life before the accident. There’s this… person there. Someone important. Someone so, so important that it physically hurts me to think about how I don’t know who it is. They’re a constant. And I love that they’re a constant.”
Your hand comes up to clutch at your jacket right over your chest. 
More tears come out of your eyes. The whites get more pink the more they flow. 
“But I know them. I do! I know them like I know the back of my hand. I-I know they love music. I know they take milk and sugar in their morning coffee. I know they don’t get enough sleep at night.”
Louder and louder your voice gets as you grow sadder and sadder. The sobs between thoughts wrack your chest. 
Him. You’re talking about him. 
Chan’s hands hold your face gently. His thumbs can’t keep up with how much you’re crying. 
Nothing has ever hurt this bad. 
You know him. You just don’t know it’s him. 
Nevertheless, you continue. “I remember that they have the most obnoxious phone alarm in the morning. I remember the passcode to their phone is 032518. I know that they have this one black sweatshirt that I love to steal even though it’s their favorite.”
Chan’s own eyes begin watering, he can’t stop it. You know him. You know him. You’ve remembered him this whole time and you didn’t even know it. 
You reach up and grab one of his hands and place it on your heart. Underneath your jacket, he can feel your heartbeat thudding violently against your chest. 
That same heartbeat he’s been dying to listen to while you play with his hair and tell him about your day. The heartbeat he would give anything to hear as he falls asleep. His throat gets tighter and tighter. 
“I’ve been surrounded by bits and pieces of a ghost and no one wants to help me. No one will tell me anything, and I’m so confused, Chan. I can tell that there’s something that everyone is avoiding telling me.”
A gust of wind picks up through the playground. It nips at his cheeks. It’s now he realizes how many tears are falling. 
A sob tears from his throat. 
You grip his hand tighter. 
“Tell me It’s you, Chan.” You’re begging. You’re actually begging while keeping his hand pressed against your heartbeat. 
“Tell me that you’re the person that I see in my dreams. Tell me you’re the one that loves when I draw hearts on the bathroom mirror after I shower. Please tell me that you’re the one that loves the smell of lemon cookies but can’t stand the taste.”
Oh, god, Y/N.
“Tell me that you’re the one that wanted to pick me up from the party that night but I said no.”
He breaks. 
He breaks right down in front of you. Every single ounce of self control leaves his body and he grabs you out of the swing, yanking you towards his body and holding you against his chest. The emotions that were being kept at bay come out like a raging storm. 
He falls backwards into the dirt, you come crashing into him. Your arms wrap around him at the same time he wraps around you. 
Chan buries his face in your neck, one hand on the back of your head and the other firmly around your waist. 
Wails leave his mouth as he holds you to him. They’re deep and come from the very depths of his soul. The wound that’s been open for months is bleeding.  
Every lonely night. Every dinner where he cooked for two instead of one by accident. Every long day he came back to an empty apartment. It’s all coming out. 
You’re crying just as hard as he is, both of your hands gripping the back of his hoodie like a lifeline. 
Your body in his arms is like a piece of a puzzle. Like he’s the dusty one sitting on his dining room table and you finally came in and finished it. 
Weeks and weeks of grief come crashing down on him. He can’t lie anymore. Not to you. Never to you. 
“It is me,” he cries into your neck, his hand running over the back of your head, feeling your hair slip through his fingers. It’s just like he remembers. “It’s all me, Y/N, It’s me.”
Your cries get louder, your body starts shaking in his arms. 
“I’ve missed you, Y/N,” he cries harder. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much. I missed my girl. Oh my god, I’ve missed you.”
Chan can’t pull you close enough, he can’t get you close enough to his body. You shift around and press yourself into him. 
“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry I didn’t pick you up that night. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m so sorry you got hurt.” 
Every ounce of grief is surfacing and clawing its way out of his throat. 
“I’m sorry I had to lie to you these last two weeks. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was so broken without you. I broke the doctor’s orders. I needed to see you, Y/N.”
Despite how hard he has you gripped against him, you manage to pull away slightly. You sit up in his lap and look down at his red, tear soaked face. His eyes are puffy and his chest is sputtering with sobs. 
Both of your hands cup his cheeks and swipe away the tears the same way he did for you only a small bit ago. There’s a sad smile on your face. 
“Please don’t apologize, Channie, it’s okay. I forgive you.”
Channie. You called him Channie.
He cries harder and buries his face into your chest. Your arms immediately come around him and keep him there, fingers threading into his hair. 
You’re still crying. Both of you are. 
“I know you were just doing what you were told to,” you whisper into his hair. He can hear your voice reverberate in your chest. 
All he can do is cry. 
Months of build up led to this moment. Endless days of going through the motions just for the next to be as dull and tedious led to him falling into you in the middle of a playground at night. 
The only thing you do after that is hold him. You press kisses to the top of his head and whisper that you forgive him over and over. 
Each one adds a stitch to the wound, shutting it.
You’re finally in his arms. You’re finally back where you belong. 
“I missed you,” he says again, his cries dying down. He doesn't know what else to say. There's so much he wants to tell you, but everything dies on the tip of his tongue.
“I missed you too, Channie. My heart missed you so much.”
He sniffles and looks up at you. You pull your sweatshirt sleeve up and wipe away his stray tears gently. 
“Every day it just felt like something was missing. It was you. You were missing.”
Chan can’t find any words to say. He just stares at you. 
"I don't care how long it takes to remember, or even if I never do. I need you by my side for it, Chan."
His eyes sparkle at you for a moment but he leans up and captures your lips with his once more. It feels even better than the previous one.
The two of you relish in the contact, holding each other close and clinging to the closeness of it all.
It's taking everything within Chan not to start crying again. He's worried than any moment now, he'll wake up and this will all be some cruel dream.
But when you pull away from his lips, and he opens his eyes-- you're still there. You're still in his arms and smiling at him like you always did.
The burn is soothed.
“If you think about it,” you start with a tiny smile. “We’re lucky— in a way.”
His entire face screws up, even more confused. “Lucky?”
“How many people get to say they fell in love with the same person twice?”
Chan blinks twice before it feels like his entire body thaws. 
You and your glass half full attitude. He’ll never fucking get enough of it. 
His arms wrap around you again, bringing you down into his chest. You let out a breathy giggle 
“You’re never leaving my sight,” he breathes out. “Never again, baby, never.”
“I don’t ever want to, Channie. I never will.”
2K notes · View notes
st4rymoon · 5 months
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✭ 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 ✭
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𝟏𝟖+ | 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 | 𝐀𝐜𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐜 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐬 | 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: a long read btw, arguing, impact play, academic rivals, slow burn, rough sex, hate sex, language, p in v, make out sesh, unprotected sex, annoying Miguel, reader has some anger issues on the low, breath play, teasing, sexual tension, semi-mean dom, after care
・Part two! Part Three!
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“WHAT?” You yelled, both your professor and Miguel looking at you in shock after your professor asked you for a one on one with the both of you.
You could scoff at the way Miguel’s lips curled up into a satisfied smile “Well you and Miguel are my best students, so it would only make sense for the both of you to do a presentation together. I can only imagine the things the both of you will come up with!” Your annoyingly sweet professor clapped.
“ wouldn’t it be better if both of us did our own? We coul-“ You tried to negotiate “Ah ah! I said group project! Now Miguel, do you have anything to say about this? Any complaints like this one over here?”
You sighed as Miguel spoke “Nope, I’d be happy to work with someone in the same range as me” he cockily spoke “Very funny, now since we’ve got this all sorted, go and talk” she smiled, shooing you and Miguel out of the classroom.
You scoffed as you pushed past Miguel “Aww come on sweetheart, you hate me that much?” He cooed following close behind you.
“Shut it” you huffed. Getting paired with Miguel was possibly the worst thing to happen since your high school prom. Miguel was the bane of your existence since the first year of college.
Of course, his good looks and brains were attractive but sooner or later you realized he was going to be a pain in your ass for the next few months of class. You met him in your first biology class, everything was going well until the first exam of the class.
Your professor said the class average was low B’s and high C’s but out of the whole class, two people got perfect scores. Could you guess who the two were?
You and Miguel.
Both of you looked at each other from across the class with the same look in your eyes saying ‘Someone beat me?’. Of course, you both got the same 100% grade but both of you were so used to being the only one on top of the class that this was more than just a score. But your egos.
You both were fully aware to not be in each other's way, only seeing each other when studying at the same place or in class. All was going well for the next 2 exams, but the 3rd one came and you couldn’t believe it.
You got a 98% and Miguel has a perfect 100%. You could see him smile at the results and you hated the professor right now. Why the hell would he show the class? It’s embarrassing, to say the least.
Miguel gave you a wink as you looked his way ever so slightly. Bursting out of the class, you could feel him behind you “2 points down” he chuckled. You wish you would’ve punched him.
And ever since then, he’s made it his life mission to ruin your day. You never got anything other than 100% again, you busted your ass studying just so he couldn’t rub it in.
“I’ll make sure you can’t get us two points down” Miguel hummed as he kept up at your pace. You could feel your blood boiling, god he’s such an asshole. “I’ll email you if I need help” you scoffed.
“Can I get your number? I won’t get the email since my inbox is always spamming” Miguel lied with a smile “fine” you muttered out your number and walked off before he could stop you.
‘Real classy, I wasn’t done talking’ popped up on your screen “Well I am” you messaged back. You were well aware it was Miguel and you didn’t need him to piss you off more than usual.
The second you stepped into your apartment you let out a relieved sigh. Oh, how you missed this place in these insufferable hours. You put on some comfy panties and an oversized hoodie.
You were laid in your living room, soft carpet under you as you finished up some of the slides for your presentation. The knock at your door was the last thing you needed, you groaned in agony as you hated the thought of getting up from your warm spot.
The knocking grew and so did your patience’s “IM COMING!” You yelled. You pulled the door open and lo and behold, Miguel. “For fuck sake man” you whined.
“Glad to see you too!” He smiled as he pushed past you with books in hand. Miguel was born with the talent of hiding his emotions, that talent was most useful here.
He took a deep breath as you opened the door. Your pretty thighs glowing under the baggy hoodie, hair a slight mess and the satisfying look of anger on your face could’ve made him harm.
“Excuse you” you hissed.
He plotted down next to your things and got straight to work. You stood in shock, did he just walk in like this was his house? “Well go ahead and get comfortable” you mocked as you slammed the door in annoyance.
“I am” he sighed as he stretched and leaned onto your couch.
The both of you bickered and sneered at each other the whole time you both worked but even then, the quality was always top-notch.
He didn’t like the way you formatted the information and you didn’t like how he took up a whole slide for a few sentences but both of you compromised. After a few hours, things were less tense, and both of you got used to each other.
“So what do you plan on doing with your major?” You asked, legs crossed and some candy in your mouth as you questioned him “Biochemist” he nodded “It’s always been a passion of mine”
“You sure do have the brains for it” you chuckled. “You don’t with the 98%” he teased. You rolled your eyes, your mood now soured as you remembered his shenanigans.
“Don’t start” you scoff as you get up to get some drinks “Hey hey I’m joking” he laughs, his hand stopping you from leaving as he holds your wrist “I know Sherlock, I’m going to get some drinks for us” you mutter with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah,” he laughed awkwardly, his eyes watching as you grabbed two glasses of water. “So what about you?” Miguel asked “What are you doing with a chemistry major”
“Probably chemical engineering, I’m not sure yet” You shrugged as you handed him the cup. He nodded and watched you sit next to him. Miguel scooted a little closer making you stiffen, sure he was a pain in the ass but he’s sadly one of the most gorgeous guys you’ve seen.
You tried to ignore your thoughts each time he’d stretch and groan, his moans making you think about how he’d sound if it were from pleasure. He’d be vocal you thought.
“Let’s watch something on the TV” you awkwardly smiled as you grabbed the remote and turned on your TV, you laid on your stomach, forgetting you only had panties and a hoodie.
Miguel’s eyes watched you kick your feet up, your glowy legs looking perfect as you looked through whatever you were putting on.
He noticed the pink panties you had on, his tongue instinctively licking his bottom lip as he thought about how good you’d look on top of him. He can imagine it, tits in his face and pussy sleeving his cock as he fucked you full.
He was going to give himself a boner if he kept it up. He focused his eyes on the screen and sighed in relief as you sat back up. You put on your favorite show and sat next to Miguel “We’re almost done with the assignment which is good, how about a few more minutes of break and we get back to work?” You smiled. “Sure”
You felt his hand move behind you, his arm resting above the couch as he let out yet again another ‘stretch’ while his eyes looked at you through his peripheral, you chuckled. How cliche.
You smiled as you decided to make your cliche move. It was obvious there was tension between you two, whether that be anger or sexual, it didn’t matter. “Let me get more gummies” you hummed as you turned to the table beside you and arched your back slightly, an audible moan coming from behind you as your ass was on perfect display.
You sat back beside him, gummies in hand and an innocent look on your face as you offered him some. He scoffed, shaking his head and looking back at the TV. Your eyes widened as you noticed the thick bulge straining against his pants.
“Eyes up” Miguel cockily cooed as he watched your eyes closely. “I- I wasn’t-“You made a pathetic attempt to save yourself but he cut you off “Uh huh uh huh, I know” he mocked.
He smiled down at you with accomplishment, he finally made you shut up for once. “Not going to give me a snarky comeback?” He cooed. “Shut up already God, stop it” you hissed, your eyes rolling as you moved away from him.
“No no” Miguel’s voice made you shiver as his hand held your thigh “I’m playing” he pouted as he glared down at you. You could punch him right but instead, you did something you thought you’d never do.
You pushed him on the couch and slammed your lips on his. Miguel’s hands immediately wrapped around your waist, a loud moan spilling into your mouth as he finally tasted you.
It seemed like Miguel was waiting for you to do this, his hands ran up your thighs hungrily before he flipped you onto your back. You gasped as he spread your legs around his waist.
His behemoth of a body spread your legs wide as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. You tangled your fingers into his hair as both of you hungrily kissed each other.
The kisses were messy and rough, teeth nipping at skin and tongues lapping at each other like two animals in heat. None of you even said a word, just heavy breaths, moans, and pure lust.
Suddenly Miguel pulled back from your lips, his eyes glaring into yours as he hovered above you. You could feel yourself getting ready for some snarky comment as you watched his lips curve into a smile.
“You kissed me first”
You groaned as you pushed him off, his hands still on your hips as he flipped you back onto his lap “hey I’m not complaining, It’s just funny since I piss you of so much” he sighed. His palm moved up to your jaw, face brushing against his hand as you took in his warmth.
He watched you lean into his palm like a cat, his body heating up as he realized how small you look in his lap. Your thighs small compared to his but still plump and pretty.
“Can I kiss you again” you shyly asked slightly afraid that he’s reject. “You don’t have to ask me, just do it” Miguel hummed as he pulled you into a kiss.
The kisses were now more sensual and soft, both of you now grinding into each other. His hand curled onto the back of your neck; the other palm pinned behind your spine.
You were glued onto his chest as Miguel’s warmth filled your senses. You’ve never been so warm in your life, the feeling making you tingly as he held you as close as possible. It felt like nothing in the world could hurt you, you felt safe.
“Please” you whispered onto his lips. He tried to not make you mad but he loved seeing you angry “Please what?” He taunts, his lips hovering over your jaw and neck but never touching you.
“Mig don’t tease” you whined as you hit his chest lightly “I’m not, I just don’t know what you’re saying please for” his arms clinging around your waist as he takes in your sweet scent.
You decided to play your games “I want you inside me mig, want to show you how much I need you” you cooed, your hand running down his abdomen and stopping just above his bulge. His breath hitched at your words, he didn’t know if you were fucking with him or not.
“Oh yeah?” Miguel watched you with focused eyes, his hands running up the sides of your thighs and squeezing your ass “You want me to fuck some manners into you? That loud fucking mouth of yours is always pissing me off” he cooed.
Loud fucking mouth? Your hand went up to smack his face in anger but he caught your wrist before you could “Don’t even try it muñeca.” He sternly said “You won’t like what comes with that”
You angrily kissed him as he pressed you flush against his aching cock, his hands pull the baggy hoodie off your body leaving you in your matching panties and bra.
“Fuck” he whispered, hands on your waist as he took in the view he’s been dreaming of since the day he met you. The amount of times he’d imagine fucking your mouth until you shut up was concerning.
You pulled his shirt off in need, throwing it behind you as you ran your hands up his thick muscular chest. He hummed at your soft hands running up his skin.
“Sit up for me?” He mumbled against your skin as he kicked off his sweats. He smiled at how obediently you did as he said “You look prettier when you do as I say” Miguel mocked.
You could care less about his words as his calloused hands pulled your panties off in need “Just shut up and fuck me” you panted. Miguel smiled as he felt your lips pepper all over his jaw and onto his lips, he could see you were just as eager for him as he was for you.
“Beg” he blurted. You ignored him as you rubbed his cock between your folds, both of you letting out moans as you felt each other's warmth. Miguel seethed, arms pinning you up to his chest “Listen”
You hated that you got turned on by the fact that he now had you restricted with just one hand as the other held your jaw up “you want the guy you despise to fuck you? You tell me you hate me every time you see me but look so eager to fuck me”
You were tired of his teasing, you let out a desperate whine, you could see his cock spring up and his tip leaking precum. But like always, Miguel likes to rile you up.
“Beg” he repeated. “Please mig please, just stop teasing ok” you cried. “All you needed to listen to was this?” He purred, hands moving onto your hips as he thrusts into you.
Miguel let out a gruntled moan as he felt your warm wet walls hug him tight, his head falling back onto the couch as he finally felt your pussy squeeze him.
He watched your eyes squeeze shut while you let out the prettiest moans “f- fuck!” You cried, the stretch making you clench even tighter around him as he held you down to his lap.
His cock was fully buried inside you in one go, he’s the biggest you’ve had in every way. It was overwhelming feeling how full you were, you could feel his curves and the tip of his cock nudging at your cervix.
“Breath chula, r- relax” he sighed. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you nodded, you took a deep breath allowing you to make it easier for him to move. “That’s it” he hummed onto your shoulder.
It only took Miguel a few seconds for him to start fucking you onto his lap, your body shaping into his hands, allowing him to use your pussy like a flesh light.
“O- Mig mi-“ you whined out, you couldn’t explain what you were feeling. Your whole body was tingling in pleasure as he rammed into you with pure force. Maybe you did piss him off a lot.
“What? You c- can’t take it? Such a big fucking mouth but can’t take my dick?” He seethed. You let out a pathetic whine at his words, your mind completely fogged in pleasure as you took all of him.
Miguel’s eyes couldn’t leave your pussy, his eyebrows scrunched and his mouth agar as he watched your pussy struggling to take his size. He hissed as you pushed him onto the couch, using his shoulders for support as you bounced onto his lap.
Your pretty moans filled his ears as you took control. Miguel let you take control for a bit, he loved watching how eager you rode him. Your body bounces on his lap, wet sounds of skin slapping echoing into the room.
“Making such a fucking mess” he huffed with a smile on his face, although he was loving this, he wanted to see you completely vulnerable. He thought maybe he was a little sick for wanting to see someone who hated him so much completely ruined under him but he loved it.
You gasped as Miguel lifted you onto the ground, your back hit the soft carpet under you as he stayed buried inside you. “Gotta fuck that stupid little attitude out honey, always disrespecting me. You’re the only one who tries to push my buttons. I love it” he cooed.
Miguel’s calloused hands bend your legs to the side, giving him full access to your tight cunt. “Go- god shi- fuck!” Miguel panted, he was a complete fucking mess.
Sure Miguel’s fucked a few people in his life, but he had no idea if it was just the thought of fucking the life out of you or how perfect your body was for him. He convinced himself it was both.
You clawed and scratched at his chest, your eyes full of tears as he brutally pounded into your “m- Mig I-“You were even more fucked out than him. How couldn’t you?
You had no clue where he got his stamina from, it felt like he’d been fucking you for hours. “Can’t believe you tried to slap me, should I return the favor?” Miguel hissed.
You nodded to his surprise “Please” you whined. “You want me to hit you?” He was surprised by your plead. He knew you’d be a freak in the sheets but you were always so aggressive with him that he expected you to hit him for even suggesting it.
“You’re always a pain in my ass but you just want to be taken care of huh?… What? You need me to pound your pretty pussy out for you to treat me with some respect?”
You nodded eagerly, if you were being honest you couldn’t even take in his words. Your pussy clenched and throbbed around his fat cock in agony but you were taken by surprise when a slap landed on your face “Use your words” he hissed.
Almost immediately you cried “Yes yes! Miguel please I nee- need it, f- fuck ah!”
Miguel chuckled, his hips angled a bit higher which allowed him to hit the perfect stop. His hand flew around your throat, his hips pounding you onto the floor as he let out animalistic moans.
“M- Mig- ah fff- fuckk!” You cried. The restriction of your breathing mixed with his rough pounds caused orgasm hit you hard as your pussy throbbed around him, the tip of his cock nudging at your sweet spot continuously.
Miguel’s eyes rolled back as he felt your nails claw at his arms, your small hand wrapped around his wrist as he fucked you balls deep. His cock plunged into your messy cunt as his balls slapped onto you. “That’s I- that’s-“ he hissed.
He thought about pulling out for both of your sakes but he’d rather just buy you a plan B. “C- can I- inside?” He seethed his eyes burning into yours as you bounced to his thrusts.
You couldn’t get a word out but your legs wrapping around his waist and your nails digging into his back to pull him closer gave him the answer. His lips crashed onto yours as he spilled inside you, his moans spilling into your mouth as his fingers dug into your hips.
He’s never had an orgasm that hard, he was sweating and out of breath as he stilled inside you. The both of you cling onto each other in fear of either of you leaving but that was on the last of your minds.
Miguel lay beside you, his arms pulling you into his as he pressed a kiss onto your forehead. “Was I too rough?” He questioned with concern as he now fully took in how fucked out you looked. “No, it was perfect” you weakly muttered as you nuzzled into his chest.
Miguel sighed in relief as your sweaty body was pinned into his. “Where’s your bedroom?” He hummed as he began to lift you into his arms “left” you sighed as he carried you into your bedroom.
“Let me clean us up and then we can rest yeah? Unless you want me to leav-“
You cut him off before he couldn’t finish “Don’t leave. Please?.” You hummed a bit worried you sounded a little pathetic.
“Wasn’t planning on it love”
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softbeej · 2 months
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Jazz & Liquor
dryhumping/cockwarming with Alastor. Was meant to be headcanons but I got carried away. requests always open! :D
When this had begun, you were alone. Some old jazz track was playing on the record player, and you were just fooling around, sipping your drinks as he told you useless trivia about each tune. You kissed him to shut him up, and next thing you knew, you were straddling him, kissing him as he nipped your lips gently. You looked down and he was hard, straining against his dress pants.
You rocked yourself against him, his hands grabbing your waist helping you rock yourself.
“My, what a predicament you’ve caused here...”
“Lemme help you out a little, hm?” Your hand trailed down to his zipper before he grabbed your wrist.
“My deary, we’re in the study. Anyone could walk in at any moment. I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”
“Oh, I know, Al...” You smiled sweetly and he released his grip on your wrist.
You pulled his cock out, yanked your panties to the side under your skirt and lowered yourself down, facing away from him. He guided your bounces, up and down, as he was almost purring. You turned around to get a look at his needy face when the worst thing imaginable happened.
Charlie walked in.
Oh, how you wished it was anyone but Charlie. Angel would just crack a joke and probably sit down, Husk would grimace and leave. But Charlie? She’s so innocent, wouldn’t immediately understand what was going on.
In less than a second, he snapped his fingers, a cozy blanket materialising and draping over you both. With that he also dug his claws in the squishy part of your hips and holding you down, his cock all the way inside.
Charlie looks at you, so unassuming. Oh, just look at you two!” She cooed, “You know everyone’s in the parlour, right?”
Alastor twitched inside you.
Fucking twitched. You felt yourself involuntary clench around him, which of course didn’t help with twitching.
“Yes, yes. We’re just in here listening to a few tunes... We’ll be in shortly.”
You clenched around him harder, and his claws dug into your hips, perhaps as a warning but maybe as an order to keep going.
“You okay, yn? You’re looking a little iffy...” Charlie said, rushing over and placing the palm of her hand on your forehead.
“Oh, I’m fine. Had a little too much to drink, is all.” You said, almost squealing when you felt him throb inside of you.
“As long as you’re okay... Anyway, see you later!” With that, she left.
You fell back into Alastors body, back pressed up against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and bucked his hips even further into to you.
He nipped your ear, “Now... Where were we..?”
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Wrapped Around Your Finger
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.1k
Warnings: angst, fighting, kind of fluff at the end?
Summary: You and Spencer make it a rule not to bring your work home with you, but you can't help it when he blatantly ignores you on a case. You're pissed at him, and you decide to show him just how long you can stay pissed at him.
Square Filled: "I'm fine." for @badthingshappenbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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The worst part of being in a relationship with someone you work with is that sometimes, you bring your work home with you. You and Spencer try not to let your work affect your personal life, but you can’t let this one go. Everyone from the office felt the tension between you two before you left, and during the car ride, you prepared what you were going to say to him as soon as you walked through the front door.
“So, you’re just ignoring me now?” Spencer asks and follows you inside.
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Spencer. Why do I even tell you things if you’re not even going to fucking listen to me?”
“What you suggested was wrong, and had I listened to you, someone else would have gotten hurt.”
“No,” you whip around to face him, “I told you how to get the unsub and where he was going to be. I told you he was going to be armed so I suggested bringing in the SWAT team as backup. What did you do? You and Derek enter the house alone and disregard everything I told you.”
“Had I gone in with the SWAT team, the unsub would have seen them and started shooting. Morgan and I were able to trap him by sneaking up on him. I can’t very well do that with a whole team behind me.” He sets his bag down on the counter and rubs his face tiredly. “Besides, I don’t know why you’re bugging about this. Everything worked out.”
“You don’t get it,” you scoff. “It’s not about how we got the unsub. It’s about the fact that you didn't even consider what I had to say. You went ahead and did it on your own. If that’s how you want to do things, then fine. I won’t help you ever again.”
You grab a water bottle from the fridge and make your way to the stairs.
“You’re overreacting about this.”
“I’m sleeping in the guest room tonight.”
With that, you leave your husband at the bottom of the stairs alone. He rolls his eyes and decides to let you have this night. Tomorrow, he’s going to make you see that your plan wouldn’t have worked.
In the morning, you’re already at work by the time he gets up. Normally, sleep is a cleanser for you. If you go to bed angry, you’re usually calmed down by the morning. However, he can see you’re going to milk this as long as you can. That’s fine. If you want to play games, he’ll play it your way.
Spencer walks into the office and sees you at your desk. You know he’s here because the chatter gets quiet. Your coworkers are curious to see how this is going to play out. Derek and Emily think Spencer is going to stay strong and stand his ground while JJ and Rossi think he’s going to fold because you have this man wrapped around your finger even if you don’t see it.
Spencer walks past him but you don’t look at him or even acknowledge his presence. He waits for you to say something. When you don’t, he gets a little annoyed with you.
“Really? You’re giving me the silent treatment?” You don’t give him a response. “Okay, fine. I’ll play your games.”
You grab some files and make your way to Penelope’s office without a look back at him. She swirls her chair around to greet you, a big smile on her face.
“What are you smiling about?”
“You’ve come to the right person.”
“I didn’t even say anything.”
“I heard you and Spencer are fighting.”
“I’m fine. There’s no fighting because there’s nothing to talk about. He doesn’t see me as an equal and doesn't want to consider what I have to say. What is there to talk about?” you shrug and hand her some files to work with.
“So, you’re not going to be an adult and have an adult conversation?”
“No,” you wink and leave her office.
The only way you’re going to talk to Spencer is if it’s about work. He thought you were going to give in and apologize after the first day, but you’ve been this way all week. You’re at work before he gets up, you don’t greet him anymore, and you still sleep in the guest room. By the end of the week, you realize you were wrong about how to handle the unsub. Spencer’s plan was the right one. He knew how the unsub was going to behave and made a plan based on that while you based your plan on how to subdue him easily.
The last thing you’re going to do is tell him he’s right.
Now, it’s a game of how long you can do this to him before he breaks. Everyone, including Spencer, knows he’ll be the first one to break even if he doesn’t want to admit it. You’re very good at getting your way, and this is no different. Spencer can tell the shift in energy from you being genuinely pissed at him to doing it on purpose. He knows you too well to know that you’re only doing this to be petty.
He told himself to not go without speaking to or kissing you, but it’s proving to be a lot harder. His love language is touch and he’s craving yours. He hasn’t kissed you in over a week and he’s getting desperate. Like admitting-he-was-wrong desperate.
You have Friday off since you requested it off a month ago, but Spencer was called into work for a few hours to help with something. You’re sitting on the couch reading a book when he walks in. He debates on speaking to you knowing full well you won’t speak to him back. How long can you go like this? You’ll have to speak to him at some point.
He sighs and walks out of the front door to get to work, and you watch him go to the car. He gets in the front seat and starts the car, but he doesn’t drive off. He grips the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turn white. You wonder what he’s thinking. He looks behind him as if he is going to reverse but gets out of the car instead. He storms back into the house, and you immediately pretend like you were reading this whole time. 
Spencer walks over to you, grips your hair tightly but not tight enough to hurt, tips your head back, and kisses you. The book falls from your hand as you kiss him back. This kiss holds a week’s worth of sexual tension. When he gets back from work, you know he’s going to take you to the bedroom for the rest of the day. He slides his tongue into your mouth and massages yours, leaving you wanting more.
When he feels you leaning into him, he pulls away with a smirk. Without saying a word, he leaves the house and this time, he actually leaves the driveway. People say he’s wrapped around your finger when really, you’re wrapped around his.
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Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
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hyunsvngs · 9 months
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𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐲 - lee minho x gn!afab reader
wc: 6.1k
rating: 18+. MDNI
cw: alcohol, normalisation of getting very wasted, smut (specific smut warnings under the cut, again minors please do not interact!)
synopsis: the best surprises come from the most unexpected sources - like having your crush corner you in a frat party after hearing you confess your deepest desires of him in the background of a video.
a/n: part one of the fratboy series. fratboy lee minho has now taken over my entire brain, my heart, and also my life, so i hope you all enjoy. PLEASE feel free to stop by our askbox to chat to me abt him because truly, i am obsessed.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
sw: swearing, dirty talk, sexy mean minho, no seriously he’s mean, thigh riding, nipple play, begging, dumbification, degradation, penetration with a finger & dick simultaneously, talks about sex slaves (maybe only slightly serious), lovely aftercare
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
When the opening notes of Half Moon by Dean met your ears, you couldn’t help but groan. You loved the song, but it signalled an incoming call that you’d been expecting all day. You flipped your phone over, confirming your suspicions; Jisung’s squishy cheeks flashed on your screen as his contact icon showed up.
“What do you want?” you asked as you answered the call, despite knowing very well what he wanted. 
At the beginning of the semester, your best friends had joined a fraternity, Sigma Kappa Zeta. It was an absolute dream - on paper at least. You didn’t have to commit to the endless fraternity obligations, which are often ridiculous and sometimes downright dangerous; although you still had regular invites to the blowout parties, owing to your connections to Felix and Jisung. You’d attended a few of these parties and enjoyed them thoroughly. Being pretty meant you got free booze, and what could be better than getting wasted for free, with two of your favourite people? While ogling their endless hoard of stupidly attractive friends, of course.
Your taste in men could be summarised as… unfortunate. You had an affinity for frat boys, the bigger and stupider the better. Muscular guys, with stupid goofy grins and sleeveless tees, bulging biceps and empty heads. Something about them really got you going, and it frustrated you to no end. But you loved to indulge yourself, and Felix and Jisung knew this all too well. And so, they were left baffled when you very quickly stopped attending these parties. Baffled, disappointed, and worst of all, persistent.
“Hey, angel,” Felix’s voice rang out from your speaker.
“You aren’t Jisung,” you stated.
“Very observant,” he responded, leading you to roll your eyes. You didn't even bother to question why he was calling you from Jisung’s phone. “Anyways, I assume you’ll be in attendance tonight?”
You snorted. “Obviously not.” 
“Y/N!” Felix’s deep voice gave way to a drawn-out whine. “Why not?”
“Cause I don’t want to spend time in your disgusting frat house,” you huffed. 
“Not even for me?” he pleaded with you.
“This isn’t working. You can’t guilt-trip me when I can’t actually see your stupid adorable face,” you pointed out.
“Fine, I’ll turn my camera on-”
“No. Look, why don’t you and Ji come drink with me in my dorm? Like the good ol’ days?” you suggested. Good ol’ days referring to a few months ago, before they’d joined the fraternity.
Felix paused for a few moments. “Fine. Maybe. Only because we miss you!”
“Come over then. See you soon!” You hung up before he could argue any more - you all knew you’d won. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Just moments after Jisung and Felix showed up at your door, you began to consider the possibility that maybe you didn’t win after all.
“Y/N!” Jisung cried, before proceeding to push past you and collapse onto your bed. “Why do you never hang out with us any more?!” 
You turned to Felix. “What have you brought to my doorstep?”
Felix shrugged. “He chugged like, three beers before we even left.”
"I guess we'd better catch up then." 
It wasn't long before you were all feeling merry, though it would be amiss to say you'd caught up with Jisung, given that he often seemed intoxicated even when he was sober.
"I miss you guys, too!" you insisted, hushing the boys' griping. And you really did miss them. Since classes had ended, and people had limited obligations, the frat seemed like a 24/7 party house at the moment, which meant you hardly ever saw them. "I just… these frat parties, it's not really my scene."
The look Felix sent you told you that he didn't buy it, not one bit. The look Jisung sent you, on the other hand, told you that he was currently so drunk that he had a very tenuous grasp on reality, and was just happy to be involved.
"I've seen you eye up at least three guys at the frat. Not your scene? Nothing has ever been more your scene," Felix said, his tone accusatory. "I know it's nothing to do with us. So spill. Why are you avoiding the frat?"
Jisung had wandered off to the other side of your room, where he seemed to be making a concoction of different beverages. He didn't seem to be making a mess, so you thought it best to leave him while he was quiet.
You huffed. "Fine. One of your stupid little frat bro's is driving me insane. But I won't say who!" you added hastily.
Felix's eyes glinted. "Driving you insane? In what way? Like, someone's pissed you off? Or they're making you insanely horny and you don't know how to handle it."
You hid your face in your hands with a groan. "You know me too well, Lix."
Felix laughed gleefully. "Changbin?"
"Don't start guessing! I'm not gonna tell you!"
"Chan?"
"No!"
Felix paused, thinking hard. "It's Minho."
"It’s not Minho!"
He cackled. "You're an open book, it's Minho! You're horny for Minho!"
You let out a weak whimper in protest. "I just… God, nobody's ever affected me like this before, Lix! I don't even wanna be around him 'cause I know I'll say something stupid. Or maybe just start drooling on him."
Felix shrugged. "I guess I can't blame you. He is a gorgeous guy."
"Understatement of the century," you scoffed. "If I had to choose between solving world hunger and sucking his dick, I'd choose his dick. A thousand times."
Felix, in that beautiful drunken phase where everything was utterly hilarious, was clutching his stomach, in complete stitches on your floor.
"I'm not even joking, Lix! I'd devote the rest of my life to being his sex slave. He wouldn't even need to feed me, I'll survive off his cum if I have to!"
Felix wiped a tear from his eye. "Stop, stop. You're killing me." He turned to Jisung, who was still apparently playing potions with various different drinks.
"And that," Jisung said to no one in particular, "Is how you make a Hanji Supreme."
"What the fuck are you doing, Ji? Are you vlogging over there? Get your ass over here and listen to what Y/N has to say about Lee Minho."
"Okay, bye!" Jisung said, still seemingly speaking to thin air. He turned to you, eyebrows raised. "Minho? Y/N has the hots for Minho?"
"Unfortunately," you confirmed.
"We could probably set you up with him," Jisung proposed, a dastardly grin on his face.
"No," you quickly denied. "Never. Under no circumstances do you ever mention my name in Minho's presence. Got it?"
Jisung pouted. "But then your dreams are never gonna come true!"
You chewed on your lip. "I feel like a stuttering mess whenever I even think about him. I can't imagine what'd happen if I actually spoke to him."
"Wait, you've never spoken to him?" Felix clarified, and you shook your head. He smirked. "You were saying some pretty vulgar stuff, considering he's practically a stranger."
You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I'm a creep and a perv. That's why he can never find out about this. Seriously," you said sternly, directing this last part at Jisung. He wasn't exactly known for keeping secrets. 
Felix looked him up and down. "I don't think he's even going to remember this tomorrow, if I'm being honest."
"Yeah," you agreed. "He seems like he's done for the night." The boy was lying flat on his back, the brim of his beanie pulled over his eyes. His phone was buzzing away on his chest, notification tone pinging every few seconds.
Felix sighed. "I just hope he doesn't get one of those second winds."
“Jisung, honey, is someone trying to get hold of you?” you asked, the chiming of his phone growing irritating. You figured he’d texted one of his many booty calls and then instantly forgotten about it.
“Huh?” he asked, clearly not really listening.
Felix’s phone began to buzz on the floor. “Someone’s trying to get hold of me.” He brought the phone to his ear. "Hey, what’s up? He's - he's what?" Felix covered his other ear. "It's really loud over there, did you say he's on the table? Christ - okay, okay, we'll be right over." 
"What was that?" you asked. "Is everything okay?" 
Felix sighed. "Hyunjin's partying a little too hard. Seungmin can't deal with him alone. C'mon, we gotta go wrangle him."
"We just went over this - I'm not stepping foot in Minho's territory, not even for a second," you said adamantly. 
"Relax, he's partying with Theta Chi Theta tonight," Jisung slurred happily, sitting upright and fixing his beanie. "C'mon, Y/N, come party with us!"
Felix looked to you pleadingly. "I can't deal with drunk Jisung and drunk Hyunjin without you. Please."
Fuck. Felix knew you could never say no to his puppy-dog eyes.
"Fine."
Even with the knowledge that Minho was preoccupied somewhere else, you still felt a little wary as you stepped into the house. It did occur to you that you could be a little too terrified of this man, but you knew all too well that both your horniness and your stupidity were utterly limitless, which was always a recipe for disaster.
You heard Hyunjin before you saw him - "Why can't I get naked, though? It's so hot in here!" 
You snickered. He was still on the table, although he looked a little wobbly so you doubted it'd be too long until he came tumbling down. Jisung wandered off, probably up to no good, whilst you and Felix hurried over.
Seungmin breathed a visible sigh of relief when he saw you. "So glad you're here. Okay, I'm off duty. Good luck." He had vanished within seconds. 
Hyunjin waved excitedly when he caught sight of you both. "Hi Lix! Hi Lix's pretty friend!" 
You laughed at his drunken boldness. "It's Y/N," you corrected him.
"I know." He grinned down at you from the table, eyes disappearing into crescents. "You're brave, too," he crooned.
"Brave?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
"If I was you, I probably wouldn't show my face around here until the end of the semester, at least," he went on.
Felix narrowed his eyes at the boy. "What are you talking about?"
Hyunjin stared at Felix for a moment. Then switched his gaze to you. Then back to Felix. Before erupting into a fit of giggles.
"Oh my god, please sit down before you fall and crack your damn skull," Felix pleaded with the boy.
"Yeah, and more importantly, explain yourself," you added. 
Hyunjin sat obediently, pulling out his phone and handing it to Felix. 
"Oh fuck," Felix breathed. "I have the group chat muted right now." 
"The group chat?" you enquired anxiously. "Please tell me what's going on." Your paranoia was getting the best of you, and while you stood waiting for someone to fucking explain, you were slowly convincing yourself that you'd stolen Felix's phone and confessed your attraction to Minho in the most crass and unrefined terms.
This wasn't too far from the truth.
Felix opened up a video, skipping towards the end. You noticed Jisung, sitting cross-legged on the floor of your dorm room, chattering away about various beverages. More prominently, however, you heard your own voice, from the other side of the room. 
“I’ll survive off his cum if I have to!”
Your heart plummets to the ground as the memory comes rushing back. Fuck. 
You grab Felix’s arm, holding on for dear life. “Tell me this isn’t happening. Tell me Jisung only sent that to Hyunjin and no one else.”
Felix handed the phone back to Hyunjin and placed his hands on your shoulders, steadying you. “Look, it’s going to be okay. People say stupid shit like this all the time-”
“Oh look, Minho’s read the messages!” Hyunjin calls out.
You put a hand over your mouth. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”
“He’s typing!”
“No!” you wailed.
Hyunjin turned his phone around once more. You peered at the screen in turmoil as three dastardly little letters popped up.
lol
"Oh, Y/N, you're so lucky he's not here tonight," Felix said, sounding relieved. Distantly, you felt a shred of relief too, although that was nothing compared to the complete and utter dread you were experiencing. Oh, the consequences of your own drunken, horny actions. Was there anything worse?
"Oh," Felix murmured, pulling his buzzing phone out of his pocket. "Oh." 
"What?" you asked.
"He's calling me." 
You called out "Don't answer it!" just as Hyunjin yelled "Answer it!"
Felix accepted the call, bringing the phone to his ear.
"Oh my god, I'm scared. Hold my hand." You scrambled for Hyunjin, who grasped your hand in his before giggling.
"Your hands are soft," he commented, apparently having forgotten the Minho debacle already. You swiftly hushed him.
Felix also raised a finger to his lips in a shh motion, before putting the call on speakerphone.
"Are you at the house? Is Y/N with you?" Minho’s voice came through the speaker.
Felix paused, looking at you with wide eyes. You shook your head furiously. 
"Uh, yeah," he answered, the traitor. You fought hard not to scream.
"Can you pass a message across?" you heard Minho ask.
"Sure."
"I'm on my way." The line clicked dead.
Your heart was hammering in your chest. “LEE FELIX WHY THE FUCK DID YOU TELL HIM I'M HERE?" 
"I DON'T KNOW, I PANICKED!" he shrieked back, sounding equally as alarmed as you.
“This is crazy,” Hyunjin commented with a dazed grin.
“You are far too drunk to understand the absolute catastrophe I’m in right now!” you accused him. “Oh my god, what am I gonna do? I need to go - immediately.”
“Not so fast.”
You spun around in complete and utter horror, terrified that Minho had somehow materialised from his other party right back to the frat. Only to find Seungmin standing before you - just slightly less threatening.
“Jisung is far too drunk, and he’s begging for you,” he explained.
“God, what is in the air tonight?” you observed. “Do you guys need to do a fraternity-wide detox?”
Seungmin snorted. “Like that’s ever gonna happen. Go on, Jisung’s in his room.” 
God fucking damn it, why were you such a good friend? You tore up the stairs, bee-lining for Jisung’s room, fully intending on hiding in his bedroom for the rest of the night. Minho wouldn’t find you in there if you locked the door, right? You were even willing to put up with your best friend’s snoring.
"Hey, Sungie," you said gently as you walked into his room. You found him curled on his bed, still dressed in his hoodie, cargos and beanie. 
"Y/N… You're finally here…" he mumbled.
"You sound sleepy. Is it bedtime?" you asked, sitting down on the bed beside him. You tugged the beanie off his head, and ran your hand through his hair, scratching his scalp gently. 
"Bedtime? Hmm… No… It's still party time for now." His words were slurred, and you knew he was just minutes from dozing off - seconds, maybe. 
"Sure," you said, as it was typically better to just agree with him. "You wanna get your pyjamas on? We can have a pyjama party."
"No. I'm comfy like this." You seriously doubted it, but didn't have it in you to battle him right now.
Sure enough, he was snoring less than thirty seconds later. You wondered if it was worth shoving him a bit, to climb in bed beside him, or whether it'd be best to just run home. But you didn't know how far away Minho was, and the thought of bumping into him was too much to bear. 
You deliberated for a few moments, but Jisung's snoring was driving you insane, and you quickly realised that you weren't equipped to deal with it tonight.
You pulled out your phone, opening Felix's contact.
[10:44pm] You: lixie do u have minho's location?
[10:44pm] You: lix please please please
[10:44pm] You: felix pls i need to know how far he is
You sat on the edge of Jisung's bed, leg bouncing with nerves. Why was Felix always muting his damn notifications?
[10:48pm] Lix: idk sorry :( i think his party was nearby though
[10:48pm] Lix: look, just run to my room
[10:49pm] Lix: you'll be safe there
You weighed up your options. 
Option one: stay here with Jisung, awake all night owing to his snoring and his complete domineering of 90% of the bed space, stressing about Lee fucking Minho.
Option two: run out of the frat house, and all the way home to safety, but risk bumping into Minho on your way out.
Option three: run down the hall to Felix's room, where you can vent to him all night and then eventually fall asleep with his sunshine cuddles.
It could only be option three.
His room was just down the hall, you reasoned. You would yank open the door, tear down the hallway, and land safely in Felix's bedroom. It would be easy. 
You took a deep breath, before pulling open the door and preparing to run.
“Ah. Look who it is.” 
Shit.
Minho stood in the hall with an unreadable expression. His eyes scanned your whole frame, and he took his time with his scalding gaze. His eyes crawled all the way up your legs, lingering up your thighs. Slowly moving from your hips, to your waist, to your chest. Before landing on your eyes - that’s where his inspection burned the most. You couldn’t even breathe. 
“All bark and no bite, hm?” 
“I… I just…” you stammered weakly.
He continued to stare at you, waiting for you to finish. “You just?”
“I’m sorry!” you managed, your voice barely above a squeak.
He folded his arms across his chest, looking amused. “What, pray tell, are you sorry for? For blabbing about my dick to anyone who’ll listen? Manners mean everything, sweetheart, you could’ve just asked me nicely. There was no reason to bring everyone into our business, now, was there?”
You simply blinked at him. You weren’t capable of anything more. He was clearly waiting for a response, though, smirking over at you expectantly. “W-What?” you managed eventually.
“Or are you apologising for your dirty mouth? Honestly, I didn’t expect that from you. You look so sweet, who knew you could be so… improper.”
You felt dizzy. “Improper?”
He pouted at you, and it was dripping with condescension. “Can you speak, darling? Or are you so cock-hungry you can’t manage more than a one-word answer?”
“I-I just don’t know what to say, is all,” you whispered.
“Just give me a yes or a no,” he invited you, holding his hand out for you to take.
You gave him a slow nod, placing your hand in his shakily. He smiled as if to say ‘right answer,’ before opening the door right next to Jisung's, and leading you into his bedroom. The room was remarkably neat and tidy, and you would’ve been impressed if you could even begin to process it. All of your mental energy was focused on not combusting - or coming on the spot. 
He allowed you to step into the room before closing the door behind you. You were then quickly pushed up against it, Minho pinning you against the wood with his hips. Had that squeal really just come from your mouth?
His eyes were transfixed on your lips. You waited, heart hammering in your chest, while he had you trapped there. Until this point, you really hadn't been sure whether he was angry at you for saying such explicit things about him. The look in his eyes revealed everything - he wanted you just as badly.
He leaned in slowly. Torturously slowly - evidently, he was going to take his time with you. His lips met yours in a gentle peck, which he repeated, again and again. You sighed against his lips, gripping the fabric of his t-shirt and pulling him closer, but he merely smirked against your pout.
"Please," you breathed.
"You're so desperate," he said with a low laugh. "I could give you what you want, Y/N, but I know you wouldn't be able to handle it."
"I can take it," you protested, your voice sounding much whinier than you wanted it to.
"You can?" he asked, cocking his head and looking down at you condescendingly. You nodded insistently. "Okay."
Minho picked up the pace. His lips were soft but they bit at yours harshly. His tongue entered your mouth and you savoured his taste, sucking on his tongue gently.
Your hands went to the button of his jeans, swiftly unbuttoning it. Minho pulled away, stepping back and leaving you pouting once more. He laughed, that awful patronising sound yet again, that made your palms sweat and your thighs sticky. 
"What, you think you're gonna get my dick that easily?" he asked, cocking his head at you. "No, honey." 
"Please?" you asked. It sounded pitiful, even to you.
You watched as he went to his neatly made bed, tugging off jeans and laying back. "Come here," he instructed, lounging back against the wall. "Take your clothes off for me."
"T-Take my clothes off?" you asked meekly. It sounded pitiful even to your ears.
The look he gave you was scathing, although he did seem rather amused by the pathetic show of stupid desperation you were unfortunately displaying. "Well you can't expect to stay fully clothed if I'm gonna fuck you, right?"
You nodded, standing in front of him and looking down at your feet. "I… I feel shy all of a sudden."
"You feel shy? I don't know if you'd make such a good sex slave after all." He laughed before growing serious. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to. I'll look after you, if we do, but the choice is yours."
His kinder tone set you at ease, and made you realise that you really wanted this, you were ready for this. It also brought about the realisation that you much preferred it when he was mean. You didn't want to dwell on what that meant, though. 
You gathered your courage and slowly pulled your clothes off, standing before him in nothing but your underwear. Minho said nothing, but you felt as though you were on fire under his gaze. 
He wasn't the only one who was enjoying the view. Your eyes traversed his toned thighs, mouth watering as you thought about how it'd feel if he were to press one between your legs. He wore plain white briefs, and you couldn't help but stare at the prominent bulge inside them. Even semi-hard it looked huge. You noticed it twitch ever so slightly, as he looked over your exposed body.
Minho spread his legs slightly, before tapping his left thigh. "Come on, darling. I know what you want."
Was he a mind reader? You wasted no time, climbing onto the bed, straddling his thigh and beginning to slowly grind. He tensed it, so firm and strong beneath you. The perfect platform for you to drag your clit across. 
Minho's hands went to your waist, holding you gently, guiding you as you rolled your hips.
"That's it, baby, there you go," he encouraged you. The friction was enough to make you sweat, the pleasure overwhelming you. He was right - maybe you couldn't handle this. You couldn't even imagine how overwhelming it would be to actually feel his hands on you, feel his dick inside you. 
His dick.
You could see it growing harder in his briefs, a small damp circle near the head where precum had leaked. You couldn't resist the temptation any longer; your hand reached out almost involuntarily, cupping his bulge gently. It was firm, and warm, and growing bigger seemingly by the second.
Minho took your hand, instantly re-directing it. "No, no, don't touch. Not until I say you can."
"But I can see how hard you're getting," you said. "You want it, Minho!"
"Unlike you, I know how to restrain myself." He patted your waist gently. "Keep riding."
You gave a frustrated huff, but did as he said. 
Minho brought a slender finger down to your crotch, hooking it around the fabric of your underwear and moving it out of the way. "Let me see that pretty pussy," he murmured.
The new exposure made you moan aloud, hands gripping Minho's shoulders firmly as you rode him.
"Please," you whispered. "Please, Minho."
"Please, what? Use your words."
"Please fuck me," you asked.
He pretended to consider it for a moment. "Hmm… No. Not yet."
You groaned. "I need it, though!"
Minho snickered. "Don't be such a brat. I want to take my time with you, okay?"
"You can take your time next time! Just - please - fuck, please, I need it."
He raised an eyebrow with you. "Oh, so there's gonna be a next time, is there?" 
You ignored his quip. If you couldn't get in his pants just yet, you'd focus your attention elsewhere. You lifted his shirt slowly, revealing his stomach, where you found lightly toned abs that only made you more desperate to feel him. Miraculously, he humoured you, pulling his shirt over his head.
You gasped, running your hands down his chest. He was beautiful, tight pecs and perfect little nipples that stood to attention in the open air of his bedroom. You ghosted a finger over one of them, entranced.
"I thought that'd shut you up," Minho commented under his breath.
"Beautiful tits," you muttered unintentionally as you admired his pecs.
Minho smiled. "I could say the same thing about you, angel." He placed a hand on your back, pulling you closer and bringing one of your nipples into his mouth. He wasn't gentle about it, sucking and biting without holding back. You cried out, your hips pausing their grinding motions, your system completely overloaded by his harsh actions on your sensitive nipple.
"Keep riding," he mumbled, not even taking your nipple out of his mouth as he spoke. 
You dragged your clit across his muscular thigh, whimpering loudly as you went. "Oh god, please, Minho! I need you inside me." 
"Then beg for it."
You wasted no time. "Please, Minho, please, please! I need your cock, I've never needed anything this bad. I know I'm just a filthy little slut but please give me what I need, fuck, I'll die if you don't!" 
"You really are a filthy slut," he agreed, lifting you from his thigh and laying you on his bed. 
"Yes, yes, please Minho!" you babbled.
He pulled your underwear down, leaving you completely naked before him, before tugging his own briefs off. 
Holy fucking shit, you thought.
His dick was beautiful. That was the only way to describe it - fucking beautiful. It was long, with a vein running along the underside, and the girth was decent too. The head was thick, and red, and if you weren't so desperate to be fucked you would've sucked on it for hours. 
"I know you want it," Minho said. "But do you deserve it?" He stroked his dick slowly, and you watched as the head disappeared into his fist, emerging again as his hand ran along his shaft.
"I don't know, but I need it," you insisted. "I'll do anything." 
Minho shook his head, but he looked smug. "Alright, baby. If you need it that badly."
"Yes, yes, yes," you chattered, intoxicated by a dick that you hadn't even felt yet.
He pushed your knees up to your chest, and you hooked your arms around them, holding them in position and peering down to watch his motions. "Such a perfect pussy." He rubbed the head of his dick across your clit, and you whined loudly. Distantly, you wondered if the sounds of the frat party below would even be enough to drown out your incessant noises of pleasure. It was irrelevant, though; you didn't care enough to stop.
He dragged his dick through your folds, over your hole, back up to your clit. Minutes ago, you would've killed a man to have Minho touch your pussy, but already you wanted more. He made you so greedy. It felt good but your thirst for more was unbearable, intolerable.
"Alright, baby, are you ready?"
"Yes!" you cried out.
Slowly, he sunk the tip of his dick inside you - just the tip. Thick as it was, it slid in with hardly any protest. He sighed as it went in, clearly needing the sensation more than he let on.
"More," you pleaded.
"You'll take what I give you, when I'm ready to give you it." Minho saw you roll your eyes at this, but said nothing.
He pushed the head in and out of your hole, never putting more than two inches inside. 
"Please give me the whole thing, Minho!"
He simply shook his head. "You wouldn't be able to handle it. Dumb baby."
"I can handle it!" you insisted. "I swear I can!" 
He looked at you, raising an eyebrow that told you he was unconvinced. "You can?" You nodded. "You're gonna cry like a little baby." 
"Just give me your stupid dick right now!" 
Minho laughed, shaking his head. "Alright, baby. Here comes my stupid dick."
He held your legs down against your chest, and slammed his whole length inside you. You saw stars. He thrusted, hard and fast, and you were somewhat aware that you were moaning probably louder than you ever had before, but all you could truly focus on was his cock filling you up. He was hitting your g-spot on every single thrust, grunting as he fucked you.
"God, you're tight," he groaned. He re-positioned his hips, and somehow managed to hit deeper. You felt him against your cervix, and cried out in pain.
"Too much," you weakly protested as your eyes filled with tears. 
"I thought you could handle it?" he said, his voice lacking any sympathy. "Fucking pathetic, begging for a cock you couldn't even take." 
"I-I can, just not so deep."
Minho smirked down at you. "It's not my fault my dick's so big," he said, but adjusted his thrusts slightly anyway. 
"I can take it," you promised. "I-I can take anything you give me, Minho."
"That's right, baby. My filthy little whore." His voice was calm, but his eyebrows were furrowed and sweat was dripping down his forehead - the pleasure was overwhelming him just as much as it was destroying you. 
Minho leaned down, connecting his mouth to yours as he fucked you. You sighed happily, wrapping your arms around his neck and taking his tongue into your mouth. You couldn't help but moan. His dick fucking your pussy, his tongue fucking your mouth. This was heaven, you were sure of it.
He pulled away. "You think you could take some more?" 
"More?" you asked, eyes wide. 
"Just a little more. For me?"
You nodded hesitantly.
Minho paused his thrusts, but before you could whine in protest, you felt his finger rubbing at your opening. Slowly, he pushed his index finger inside, along with his dick. The painful stretch was incredible, and you whimpered at the feeling. 
"There you go, babe," he said, beginning to thrust once more. He closed his eyes, losing himself to the sensation. "Fuck, this is nice and tight."
You were barely even lucid at this point. You babbled incoherently, unaware of what you were even trying to say. You were completely and utterly spellbound by his dick, by the sweet burning stretch. 
"Touch yourself for me, baby," Minho directed you. 
"F-Fuck- I don't know if I can-"
"I thought you wanted to be my sex slave, hm? Pretty little slaves do as they're told." 
You whined, but obeyed his command. "M-Minho… I'm gonna cum if I keep going."
Minho barked out a laugh. "Cum then. I don't care. But don't take your fingers off that pussy, not even for a second."
You were beginning to think that maybe you weren't cut out for this. You hadn't even reached your climax yet, and already the overstimulation was too much. Your stretched out pussy was throbbing, and you jolted each time Minho's dick pounded your g-spot. You were drenched, covered in your own sweat as well as Minho's, which was dripping onto you from his hair, his forehead, his neck. The air in the room was thick, and smelled entirely of Minho - you were covered in him. He looked like a god above you, fucking into you like it was his life's mission.
It was too much for you to handle, without a doubt. And yet, you'd be happy to spend the rest of your life underneath him. Or on top of him. Or in any position which meant his dick could be inside you.
"Minho… Minho!" you whimpered.
"C'mon, baby," he encouraged you, his voice strained. From the sounds of it, he wasn't far from finishing either - although you got the sense he could keep going all night if he willed himself to. "Cum around my cock like the dirty little whore you are." 
That was all the prompting you needed.
Your ears started ringing. You let the almost unbearable feeling of ecstasy wash over you, flooding Minho’s cock. You knew you were crying out maybe a bit too loudly - but you didn’t care, thrashing in Minho’s hold and grasping the bedsheets for dear life as he fucked you through it. He didn’t slow his pace, riding out your intense orgasm caused by the man of your dreams and making you feel as if you’d been set on fire.
"Does that feel good, baby?" Minho crooned, continuing to fuck you as he went after his own orgasm. You could only manage a high-pitched whine in response. "Just a little longer, baby, you can do it. Just lie there and let me use your tight little pussy, that's it." His voice was hoarse, and the veins on his neck were prominent. You knew he was going to cum soon, but you didn't know if you could hold on. You were over-sensitive to the point of pain, hands gripping Minho's bed sheets.
"Cum - give me your cum," you urged Minho. "Now, please."
His eyes widened. Your command had seemed to catch him off guard a bit. He pulled out of you, and you watched as thick ribbons of pearly white cum oozed onto your abdomen. You gasped gently as you watched. It was perhaps the most beautifully erotic thing you'd ever seen. His dick was definitely a contender for the prettiest one you'd ever fucked, and his cum was thick and heavy, dripping from the tip like a waterfall.
"Thank you," you whispered. He leaned in, kissing you deeply. He tasted like sweat, hot and sticky, and you moaned. 
He pulled away, before planting one more kiss on your forehead. "You're welcome."
Minho stood, going to the other side of his room. You tried to follow him with your eyes, but you felt so weak and tired that they slipped shut immediately. He returned seconds later, and you lay still, sighing as he cleaned you up. His touch was so gentle, so soothing, so different than it had been just minutes before.
"That better?" he asked, discarding the towel.
You nodded. "You want me to go crash with Felix?" you asked, unsure of what exactly this arrangement was.
"Nah, you reek of sex. Felix wouldn't want you." He helped you climb under the covers. "Plus, I wouldn't mind some company tonight." He slid into bed beside you, and you rolled over, laying your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, and you felt incredibly safe secure, especially considering just how utterly terrified you'd been of this man a few hours ago.
You giggled softly, so tired and fucked out that you felt a little delirious. "Can't believe you fucked me, Minho."
Minho gave a short laugh. "Can't believe you convinced me to fuck you so easily. You're a little minx. I really wanted to play with you some more."
You nestled into his chest. "I guess there'll have to be a next time then, huh?" 
"Yeah," he agreed. "If you're lucky."
"You wanna fuck me again, Minho, I know you do," you mumbled. "I saw the look in your eyes when you came. You need my pussy."
Minho was silent for a few seconds. "You're awfully bold for someone who was crying on my cock ten minutes ago."
"...Yeah." 
"Get some sleep, sweetheart." No more than ten seconds later, you were sleeping in his arms. 
You slipped into the land of dreams, where you went on to fantasise about Minho - his thighs, his neck, his tummy, his hands. His kisses, his touches, his dick in your throat, in your holes. Minho everywhere. Were you completely insatiable? Maybe. But it seemed very likely that he'd give it to you again. In your sleep, you smiled.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
taglist: @moasworld @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @queenofthegardengnomes @boomfrogg @hoeinthehouse @msaddictions @sunnyhonie @hizliyuruyen @jyu037 @jouoy @drhsthl @seungincore @jellylver @veedoesntknaur @meloncremesoda @k-poplv @livieloo914 @fekixfmp @fawnpeaks @minnielvr @imastraykidsfan @hanjisung2023 @hoelynecujoh @kyrviu @sxgeofprohets @everydreams-penumbra @chaneomma @kkissreol @secretjj @phtogravi @princelingperfect @personawthai @dirah-h @straykids5star @luvhyux @chuuswifereal @stg110 @cookiesandmilfx @number1seungminstan
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Kinktober (3)- Age Difference
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Wanda X Reader 18+
Summary: Separated from the rest of the group, you and Wanda find the perfect opportunity in the kitchen to have some alone time.
Warnings/Tags: SMUT MDNI, Mommy Kink, Oral and fingering (W receiving), Power Bottom Wanda, Implied cheating
Kinktober Masterlist
"Uh I don't think so young lady," your aunt, Natasha, says teasingly, taking the glass of wine you just picked up out of your hand. She simply raised her eyebrow at you, taking a sip herself of the drink as she watched with fake glare.
"Oh come on Nat," you grumbled, leaning back into your seat as your aunt chuckled at you, Wanda also laughing at the display. "Surely I can have one drink ," you stare at her with your best puppy eyes, hoping that even though you're an adult she'll give into the oldest trick in the book.
"You can have a drink when you're twenty one," she says with no room for challenge in her tone, yet you decide to try anyway, what's the worst she can do? Pour it on you?
"Please, everyone else is drinking," you motion to Wanda and Vision who sit together on the couch, Maria who sits in an arm chair and to Yelena who is casually sipping her beer while on her phone, most likely texting her girlfriend Kate. "And I'm basically twenty one, It's only two months."
"Well if it's only two months, I'm sure you can wait," she takes another large sip to taunt you, smirking over the rim of the glass as you groan in annoyance at her. "Also everyone else here is at least over twenty one."
"More like over thirty," you grumble, earning a real glare this time. "Fine," pushing yourself to your feet, you start heading towards the kitchen, "I'll go get myself a drink suitable for a twenty year old." You hear a chorus of laughter and shake your head while making your way through the house.
When you arrive at the kitchen you head straight to the fridge hoping to find something to drink and take back to the group. You frown when all you can see are juice boxes and groan when you remember this is Wanda and Visions house so everything is catered for children. Mumbling a small, "Fuck it," you grab two blackcurrant juice boxes and place one on the counter top while stabbing the straw through the other. You got lost in your thoughts as you moodily drank one of the twins drinks, jumping when a pair of arms wrapped around your middle.
"Hey Detka," she whispers into your ear, body flush against your back. "Enjoying the drink?" she teases making you groan once again, turning in her hold to face her. You stare up at the older woman, admiring her features as she smiles softly at you. Your mouth opens to make a snarky remark but your voice dies down when you feel her hands drift towards your ass and face lower, her lips now ghosting yours. "How about I give you something that tastes a lot better than any drink you can have?" she rasps out, accent delicately wrapping around her words.
"What about Vision?" you murmur, losing yourself in her darkening green eyes.
"He's too busy telling the others a work story," she slowly turns the two of you around, her now leaning against the marble countertop of her kitchen. "So?" one hand cups your jaw, tilting your face upwards to look at her better, "Do you want to make Mommy feel good?"
You lean forward to capture her lips, groaning at the lingering taste of alcohol on her lips and move your hands to hold her waist. You feel her tongue slide over your bottom lip, not hesitating to part your lips to allow her tongue to slide in and dominate your mouth. You groan into the kiss when her hands move up your body, one resting casually on your neck.
"We don't have time to play Detka," she murmurs between kisses before pulling back, "Be a good girl for Mommy and kneel." You practically drop to your knees at her sultry voice, staring up at her with lust-filled eyes as your hands slowly creep up her legs. When you reach the hem of her skirt you stop, the silent question in your eyes answered when she nods and threads a hand through your hair. Swiftly, you lift the skirt so your head can meet her core and groan quietly to yourself when you see she's not wearing any panties, her arousal dripping from her.
"Fuck Mommy, you're so beautiful," you mutter while place a few kisses on her thighs before leaning forwards to lick a stripe up her core.
"Shit Detka," she moans quietly, hands gripping the countertop till her knuckles start to bleed white. "Do you know how turned on Mommy was when she saw you earlier?" her voice breathy as she tries to control her volume, your tongue swirling over her clit not helping her stay quiet. "I was so tempted to drag you into the bathroom and have you on your knees like now, fucking me with that perfect little mouth of yours." You groan into her pussy at her words, one of your hands raising to her core so you could tease her entrance with your fingers. At the same time, you suck hard on her clit and thrust a finger into her, one of her hands clamping over her mouth to muffle the moan that erupted from the back of her throat. "That's it Detka, you're making Mommy feel so good," she praises quickly before placing her hand back over her mouth as you curl your finger inside her.
Your tongue continues to swirl around her clit as you add another finger into her, thrusting both digits into her mercilessly as you're addicted to the sound of the muffled moans echoing around the room.
"You taste so good Mommy," you murmur before pulling your fingers out, earning a low groan in response before a choked moan when you thrust your tongue into her. You relentlessly thrust it into her while your fingers go to her clit, circling it in time with the way you curl your tongue inside her to have her legs shake slightly as she supports herself with the countertop.
" God Detka, " she groans out, "Right there, fuck I'm gonna come." You feel her clench around your tongue, legs trembling by your head as her orgasm washes over her. You moan into her when you feel her cum coat your tongue and help her ride out her aftershocks by slowly circling her clit. Her hands gently push you away when she gets too sensitive, you sitting back on your feet as you look up at her with a dazed smile, her arousal all over your mouth. She pulls you up by the collar of your shirt and crashes her lips to yours, moaning into your mouth at the taste of herself. "Good girl," she praises one last time before she lets you clean your face off with a washcloth and tidies her appearance up.
"How's the drink coming along?" Natasha says while Maria wraps her arm around her middle, both of them holding empty wine glasses as they stroll into the kitchen. They pause in their tracks when they see you with a straw in your mouth, your hand holding the other juice box as you finished the first, while your cheeks seemingly flushed with embarrassment.
"Oh my god!" Maria exclaimed while Natasha burst out into laughter, placing down her glass so she wouldn't drop it. You scowled as they started to tease you for drinking a child's drink, defending yourself as best you could but to no avail. You grumbled under your breath before turning your gaze to Wanda who had a soft smile that lessened your bad mood.
You made your way out of the kitchen to avoid any more teasing but stopped at the door of the living room when Wanda grabbed your hand.
"Meet me later for your reward, you were such a good girl for Mommy."
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Mattheo riddle x fem reader and smut based off pepper by Lana del ray?
Pepper // m.r
Warnings: smutty, oral (male receiving), exhibition kink sorta, kissing, riding.
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I sit across from Mattheo at the library desk. He’s trying to explain whatever new potion from lessons with me. Our newts exams are taking over our entires lives. Potions is by far my worst subject but I gotta pass it for my future career.
He turns to me, “darling? You listening or not? You have to pass the exam, love”. I whine and give him a look. “I’ll survive, can we do something fun now?” I practically beg with a pout.
Moving to grab another more interesting book but just then I feel myself being pushed with my back to the shelf. “Fine, how bout you do something for me and when you get an answer right then you get to come, got it, darling?” Matty says and I nod immediately, feeling his hand slyly grope my ass.
We move so that he has his legs spread with trousers and all down to his ankles. I sit between his legs, my hands on his knees for balance. Slowly I start taking him into my mouth. It’s always a stretch but we get over it. His grip on my hair starts the movement as my mouth struggles to take all of him.
This continues for a few minutes and he tries to keep me quiet incase someone hears sounds and decides to investigate whatever is happening. My moans are luckily muffled but then I feel him take a tougher grip of my hair and pull me off of him.
“So, darling, what are the main ingredients of polyjuice potion? Give me all of them, doll” he asks. I think for a second, my hands still grip his thighs. “I- uh- is it lacewing flies and- um powdered Bicorn?” I wonder aloud, “then leeches and some others.”
“C’mon, darling. You meant to be so smart, answer my question and I’ll make you come” Mattheo practically orders me. “Then there is- uh - one second - knotgrass” I manage out, my thoughts now absorbed with the idea of him taking me in the very public library.
“Two more for me, sweetheart. Just two more” he whispers into my ear and the sound of his voice completely takes over. “M’ sorry, I can’t, I need you” I beg. “Of course, doll but we gotta continue with work after this, ok?” Theo says.
Mattheo pulls me onto his lap and moves my panties to this side. I feel him push part way into me and I have to bite my lip to conceal the moans. “C’mon, ride me, baby. Ride me” he order and I do as he has told me.
I begin moving up and down on him but have to push my face into his shoulder to hide any inevitable sounds just incase anyone is nearby. It really doesn’t take long for my climax to come. My last straw is when he thrusts up into me.
Everything completely unwinds and I feel myself fall apart on him. I can taste the blood as I bite down on my tongue. Slowly everything stops and all I have to conceal is my breathing. “You did so good, darling” Mattheo mutters into my ears.
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uglypastels · 11 months
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Eddie knows you have a voice kink and decides to take advantage of it 👀
(ie not me having a voice kink, absolutely not)
this took me too long but i also tried to rewrite this like four times because ughhhhh you are so fucking real for this one. im obsessed. so yeah, i hope you enjoy it <3 and thank you for the request
warnings: 18+ only MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. porn without plot, straight from the beginning. voice kink, so obviously dirty talk. fingering. mention of oral (f receiving). mention of p in v sex. bondage. (soft) dom!eddie.
masterlist // inbox //
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‘Fuck sweetheart, you look so pretty, all spread out for me like that,’ Eddie smirked as he looked down at you. His hair fell over your face as he leaned in for a soft kiss, and his hands found their place at your hips. You couldn’t help but arch your back, feeling that gravitational pull that Eddie exerted… as the handcuffs dug into your wrists, there was little you could do but thrust your hips his way. 
‘So—fucking—pretty.’ He muttered between kisses over your cheek and jaw. ‘Could put you in a museum. Hang you up like this. Look at you all day.’ His voice was gruff, filled with the sexual frustration you were both tortured with over the past few hours, but the cheek and humour never left him. 
‘Maybe we should, hmm?’ His low hum sent shivers all through your neck and down your spine. ‘Hang you up, I mean. I still got that hook in the ceiling from the–’ 
‘Maybe– maybe next time, Eddie.’ It wasn’t the worst idea he had come up with, but you were so far gone you couldn’t imagine yourself getting out of this bed. All you could focus on was the deep growl of his voice– the meaning of the words barely even settled in your brain. 
‘It’s a deal, baby.’ He smiled and gave you another kiss which you returned with a moan. One of his hands had found its way up to your breast, pressing into the soft skin, thumb roaming over the most sensitive parts. 
‘Eddie,’ you moaned his name out softly, receiving another hum in response. 
‘I know, baby.’ He said after you got stuck on his name for a moment or two. ‘Don’t worry; I’ll make you feel good.’ His kisses were going lower and lower. Peppering your neck, breast, and abdomen. His path was marked out clearly. ‘So, good.’
But you whined in desperation as his lips reached below your stomach. If it hadn’t felt so good, maybe you would have been quicker on the notice, but despite it all, you still had needs. 
Eddie halted in his moves at your word. His grip on you tightened securely, big brown eyes locked in on you, checking for any signs of worry. With everything put on hold, you became more conscious of the fire burning in your body for him. Couldn’t lay still, but Eddie wouldn’t move.
‘What’s wrong, sweetheart?’ 
‘I don’t–’ He was so far away, and you couldn’t do anything about it with those damn handcuffs locking you in. They wouldn’t budge even at your hardest pull, and with each second, it was becoming harder and harder to think. ‘Eddie, I–’ 
‘Yeah?’ He rubbed his hand over your thigh. It must have been meant as reassurance, but all the triggers were shot up straight to your core. ‘Baby? Hey, are you still with me?’ 
‘Yes, just...’ You didn’t want to say it. Eddie raised a curious brow as you tried to spit out your wish.
‘Don’t go down on me. Not right now.’
‘Everything good down there?’ He squeezed your thigh a bit harder, a playful grin on his lips again.
‘Yes, it’s fine, fuck me if you want, just not– not with your mouth.’ 
Eddie couldn’t help the small scoff that passed his lips. ‘Ok… may I ask why?’ He tried not to look offended. You knew how much he loved this specific activity, and usually, you did too, but this time, something different got you going. 
‘Because I–’ you huffed out, ‘because I’m getting turned on by you talking right now, so I don’t want you to stop now just to eat me out.’ If you hadn’t been cuffed to the bed posts, you would have hidden underneath the covers in embarrassment. 
There was a second of silence as Eddie processed what you said. He blinked slowly and started to climb his way back up to the head of the bed. Arms on either side of you, locking you in even more. 
His lips were nearly on yours as he spoke again. ‘Speaking of talking, we should do something about this shyness of yours. You know I will do anything for you, princess, so why not just tell me? You’re a big girl, aren’t you?’ 
 ‘Y-yes.’ The small word got caught in your throat. Nevertheless, Eddie rewarded it with a brief kiss.
‘Hmm, so you want me to talk,’ he said after pulling away, ‘what should I talk about?’ 
‘Anything— sex!’ You added quickly, knowing how Eddie could be with his humour. ‘Anything that’s– you know.’ 
‘You want me to say what I wanna do to you? How I’m going to fuck you? Hmm, is that what my princess wants?’ With each word, his voice got deeper, darker. 
‘Yes, please.’  While yours became breathless, encapsulated in moans. ‘Please, Eddie.’
‘God, I love how you beg for me, how you say my name. Gonna make you scream it tonight, baby. You’re gonna be my good girl and scream for me when I stretch your tight little pussy, hmm? Will you do that for me?’
‘Yes, yes, yes.’ You squeaked out the last word when you felt his hand down on you. 
‘Thought so. Always so good for me.’ Eddie slowly started closing his fingers in on your slit, carefully approaching it with his next question too. ‘Would have loved to have my mouth on you now, sweetheart. Lick you fucking up… but my fingers will do for now, won’t they?’ He said it as if the feeling of having him deep inside you wasn’t ecstatic. Like you didn’t daydream about those fingers almost every day. 
 ‘I want them in me, Eddie. Fuck. I need it.’ And as soon as he heard it, Eddie started rubbing those close circles on your clit, getting you even more hot and bothered and ready for what was next to come. 
‘Fuck, you’re so wet, baby.’ He had a Cheshire cat smile across his face as he kept on teasing your slit. ‘All for me? All for my voice?’ 
‘You know it is.’ It wasn’t the first time you expressed your love for how Eddie sounds. You had told him on several occasions he had a hot voice, both on and off stage and in bed, but this time was certainly on a new level. Something in you felt like you could cum just from listening to him. 
‘Perhaps, but I’d still like you to say it.’ He kissed your cheek. 
‘Your voice turns me on so fucking much, Eddie.’ At this moment, he finally decided to insert his fingers and push them deep inside you. ‘Oh, fuck.’
‘I fucking adore you, baby. Taking my fingers so well– shit, I can feel you clenching as I speak. Oh, you really do love it, don’t you? Just wait until I really have my way with you– oh, fuck.’ He chuckled as you reacted to his words and actions. He leaned in so his words would be directly at your ear. Soft but nasty whispers to electrify your whole being. ‘Just imagine how good it will feel when I have my cock inside you, baby. Fill you up and fuck all thoughts out of you. Until you can’t say anything but my name. Until you can’t think about anything but me.’
‘Eddiee,’ you whined as he sped up his movements, making you shake with his fingers alone. 
‘That’s right, baby. C’mon, don’t be scared to be loud. Do you know how hot you fucking sound like this? All fucked out, and because of me? Hmm, want everyone around to know how good you’re being treated here. My princess fucked like a proper queen, aren’t you?’ 
All you could do was nod. You could hear the wetness of your pussy by this point. The tight knot in your stomach was only getting worse, ready to burst, while Eddie had no intention of stopping soon. 
‘Yeah, you’re close, hmm?  Yeah, I can tell. Fuck, c’mon, come for me, baby.’ His was was so deep and aggressive that it felt more like growling. ‘Come on, my fingers. C’mon.’
When it finally happened, your whole body went limp as the pleasure overcame you.
Eddie praised you through it all, his voice now covered in honey. ‘Such a good girl. Fuck, you did so well.’ But it might have all become too much when he pulled his fingers out of you, now glistening in your juices, and put them in his mouth. He hummed with satisfaction at the taste and, once done, smiled wickedly once more and said: ‘Divine, I tell you, sweetheart. Fucking. Divine.’ His hand was soaked up to his wrist, so he went to lick his palm. ‘Might have to go in for more later on either way.’
‘Give me a moment, why don’t you,’ you laughed, out of breath.
‘Of course, of course.’ He kissed your forehead. ‘But don’t think I’m done with you just yet.’ 
the end.
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yeah, kinda ironic ending there. lol. sorry.
but thank you so much for reading!! please consider supporting with comments and reblogs <3 (maybe leave a review??) I would love to see what you thought of it <3
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thebestofoneshots · 8 months
Text
tastes | Marauders x Reader
Pairing: J.P. x S.B. x R.L x Female Reader
Word Count: 5.3k
Warnings: Smut, finger fucкing, oral (male receiving), P in V, lots of praise (especially from Remus), Sirius gets all the love he deserves, consent is sexy, lusty!boys, сreаm piе, they literally can't take their eyes off you.
Prompt: Inspired by the sense of taste. Reader has a very strong gag reflex, so the boys have never asked you to blow them, and you love them for it. But today, you want to taste them.
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tastes is part of The Five Senses: an anthology series where each chapter will be a stand-alone story, inspired by the different ways we have of perceiving the world around us.
18+ readers only (smut under the cut)
Cum Feel The Noize
You had always had pretty strong gag reflex, just brushing your tongue while you brushed your teeth made you want to puкe sometimes, it wasn’t ideal, but it was what you were born with so you settled. 
The boys knew, you’d been friends with them long before you started dating, and you had been pretty vocal about it, really, you were just so comfortable with them around that you didn’t mind talking about those things.
“What about sucking a dicк?” Sirius asked, half teasingly, half because he’d been genuinenly curious. He got elbowed by James after asking, but you just laughed.   
“Nah, it’s fine,” you told James dismissively “In truth, I’ve never done that.” 
“Never, ever? Not even the tip?” Asked James impressed, now curious as well. You shook your head as an answer.
“Not even when you dated that stupid Harland boy?” asked Remus. They all hated Harland because they all liked you, even then, a few months before you started all dating each other.
“Harland?” you asked in disbelief “Hell no! He asked a couple of times but, I just couldn’t do it,” you admitted “I really didn’t want to puкe all over his dicк.” 
“Understandable,” Remus nodded. 
“Yeah, you’d think. That’s why we broke up tho.” 
“What? Shut up!” James said, almost standing straigther.
“No, it’s true!” you said with a nod “He said there were plenty other girls in the market, and that most of them would die just to get the chance to suck him off.”
“And what did you tell him?” Sirius asked. 
“To fuck off,” you said with a laugh “didn’t even like him that much anyway,” you said with a sight, “But he’s so petty, he asked me to go see him in one of the abandoned classrooms to give me back some of my stuff, but he had just gotten a girl to blow him there. So when I arrived–” 
James gasped, he had his mouth open wide, completely shocked.
“–Poor girl, she was so embarrassed ‘cause she thought we were still dating. Which in hindsight, probably makes is worse. Anyway, he tried to go after me and jinxed him.” 
“We thought you stopped dating because he moved away.” 
“Nope, he moved away because the girl told all her friends about it and gave him the worst reputation.” 
Fast forward to now, you had been dating them for almost a year, and they had, never once, asked you to suck them off, not even by accident, which only made you love them even more, making you realize they truly listened, the difference abysmal between them and Harland, who’d asked hundreds of times, and your boys, who actually cared about you and your limits. And since they also had each other to have fun with it, neither of them missed out on getting blowjobs all that often either. Benefits of being in a poly relationship. 
But the boys were always so caring, and so giving, both in and outside of the bedroom, that you really wanted to give back to them. In fact, seeing the way James sucked Remus once, made you want to test it yourself, mouth watering at the thought. You had done your research too, asked your friends about their techniques and paid a lot more attention when they were doing each other, making mental notes of the things they clearly liked and the things they didn’t. For the first time in your life, you actually wanted to try. 
So, on Sirius’ birthday, you thought it’d be your chance. The boy had asked Peter for the room and he happily left the three of them to do their thing while going to bunk with his own girlfriend. Remus had been the one to pick you up at your room with the invisibility cloak that day. 
“You ready luv?” he asked tenderly when you got out of your room, quickly enveloping you in the cloak as he stood behind you.
“Very ready,” you said with a little smirk, which had Remus raise one of his eyebrows. Did you plan something? That’s definitely your “I’ve planned something” tone.
He dipped his head in the crook of your neck and gave it a short whiff “You’re wearing Sirius’ favourite perfume,” he mouthed, you could feel his lips brushing against your skin, already sending warmth to your core. “What else?” 
 You smiled mischievously “Nothing else,” you admitted. 
A rush of blood went straight to his cock when he heard you say that so confidently, and he finally peaked from his spot in your neck, looking through the thin white shirt you were wearing, he could see your nipple perking underneath the fabric, marking it ever so slightly. “Fuck, dove you’re such a tease.” 
You shrugged, turning to press a kiss to his cheek, realizing how blown out his pupils were already, “You know how much Sirius loves it.” 
He slid his hands under your skirt, only feeling the outside of your tight, all the way to your waist, as if trying to feel if you really had nothing underneath at the bottom. “Yeah, he’s not the only one,” he grunted, digging his digits a little, just below your pelvis. You pressed yourself to him a little more, realizing he was already getting turned on, even from such a short interaction, which only fueled you even more, turning completely around you wrapped your fingers on his neck and brought him down for a kiss. He complied, pushing you against a nearby wall as he kissed back, hands still extended above his head to keep the cloak covering the two of you. When you finally separated, you were both panting, his lips were already pink from the stimulation, and he brought one of his hands down to accommodate his pants, they were already making him uncomfortable. 
“Come on handsome,” you told him with a smile, butting your bottom lip for a mere second and pulling at his bicep ever so slightly, “Why don’t we continue the party inside?” 
When you arrived at their room, Sirius was on his bed, sketching something in his notebook while James was setting up the record player. After all the initial plan had been to just chill and listen to music together. But you all knew that wasn’t going to be the end of the story from the moment the suggestion left Remus’ lips. 
You went straight to Siri, pressing a chaste kiss over his mouth as you laid down next to him “Happy birthday Puppy!” 
“That’s like the 10th time today you say that,” James teased. 
“It’s probably just an excuse to snog him,” added Remus. 
You shrugged and leaned in again, pressing another short kiss to Sirius’ soft lips “Happy birthday,” you whispered again. 
Sirius just smiled, he loved when you showered him with attention, he had always had a knack for being the center of it, but when he was the center of yours, it made him soar, “You can snog me without wishing me happy birthday kitten, in fact, you can snog me whenever the hell you want.” 
You laughed at the suggestive little smirk he made and searched with your hand to grab his. Sirius would definitely go crazy with how much attention you were all about to give him. He leaned in a little closer, dipping his head in the crook of your neck as he turned  “You smell nice,” he whispered. 
James almost jumped to the bed, placing the top half of his body over the bottom half of yours, his head looking at you from above your belly, “Don’t act like we aren’t in the room,” he said with a pout, placing a hand over your bare leg. 
“We weren’t,” Sirius said, still from the crook of your neck “We were just giving you a show,” he added in the end, you could feel the smirk in his tone. Remus laughed, still standing in the middle of the room as he took off his sweater, passing it over his head, slowly, Remus was the most patient of the three; unless you were close to the moon.
You took a deep breath, feeling James’ forearm press against your belly as you did, he leaned down over them and noticed. “You’re not wearing a bra today,” he said as he raised just the edge of your shirt to get a peak. 
“And it’s not the only thing I didn’t put on,” you said teasingly. 
Sirius turned to you shocked “Shut up.” 
“Why don’t you see it for yourself,” you said with a smirk. Sirius didn’t think twice as he dipped his hand under your skirt. Unlike Remus, he went straight to your slick, feeling how wet you already were. 
“Bloody hell kitten, you’re soaked,” he said, now his own eyes blown out in lust “Wait, why are you so…?” he turned to Remus, who just shrugged in response, a cheeky smile playing on his face. He narrowed his eyes at him and turned back to you, “fine then… my turn,” he said, lightly pushing James off you as he grabbed you by the waist and placed you on top of him, you were now straddling him, each leg to the side of his. The friction of his pants in your core, only making you all the more turned on, you ground yourself against him, which had him moan, if ever so lightly. James had placed one hand over your tight as he moved to kiss Sirius’ neck. Today was his day, after all. 
You smiled, slowly grinding yourself against the boy one more time before leaning in to kiss him on the lips. Remus was sitting on the bed beside yours, lousily looking at the three of you as he patted himself. After a couple more kisses, you reached your hand under Sirius’ shirt, and both you and James pulled Sirius on a sitting position so you could completely remove it, gently passing it over his head. James didn’t leave him lay back down though, he pressed himself behind him to gain better access to his neck instead. 
You smiled, still kissing Sirius as you fumbled your fingers over the button of his trousers. “Someone’s thirsty,” he teased. 
“You wouldn’t know how much,” you whispered enigmatically. There it is again, Remus thought, she’s onto something. With the help of James, you managed to remove Sirius’ pants too. Playing with the hem of his trousers as you continued to grind onto his leg. Now it was your turn, moving in tandem with James, the two of you managed to lay Sirius back, over James’ chest, who rubbed soft circles on his arms as he watched you grind onto his boyfriend. Sirius was malleable, in fact, at this point, he would let you do whatever the hell you wanted with him, he wasn’t sure he was even still on earth. 
Finally, you pulled his boxers down, pulling back just a little when his thick cock sprang out, pressing against his stomach from the force of the release. You licked your lips but stood back straight, taking your time to throw the boxers somewhere. Remus smiled, you were being fast tonight, maybe he’ll get his turn faster than– 
He lost his train of thought, you had dropped kisses all over Sirius’ stomach and your face was dangerously close to his cock. It wasn’t unusual that you played and rubbed their cocks with your hands, but you usually kept your head a little further away from them. 
He almost completely lost it when he noticed you playing with Sirius’ tights, pressing kisses against them as you spread them a little with your hands. That was a move he knew all too well, he’d done it several times. Finally, when you leaned down and pressed your lips against Sirius’ cock, it was he who jumped out of James’ grasp, Remus crossing the distance that there was in between the two of you with two long strides. 
“Kitten what are you–” Sirius asked, his throat dry. 
“–what do you think?” you said, motioning to his cock. 
“But your gag reflex sweetheart,” James said, he was peering through Sirius’ shoulders. 
Your heart warmth at the boys’ concern, “I wanna try,” you added. 
“Are you sure? You don’t have to do it… If you feel pressured into it because it’s my birthday then–” 
“–It’s not that,” you cut him off “I want to try.”  
“Are you very sure luv?” Remus asked, he had leaned down near the bed to level his head with yours. 
You nodded “Positive.” 
“Sirius can be a little desperate sometimes,” James added “We can help you hold him in place so he doesn’t accidentally jerk too hard into your throat, How does that sound?” 
You peered to look at him through your lashes, Sirius thought you’d never looked more stunning “If Sirius is all right with that.” 
The boy in question nodded excitedly, and James leaned a little to the side, pressing one of his legs, while Remus held him from the other side. 
“We’re ready,” Remus said with a short nod. 
You nodded in response, taking a deep breath, and leaned back down pressing little kisses on Sirius’ soft abdomen before placing your hand over his balls. You’d seen James do it, and Sirius seemed to like it when he did. 
Judging by the way he moaned, he also enjoyed it when you did. After kneading them a little more, and rubbing circles over his tight with your other hand, you placed your hand around his cock, pumping it a couple of times before finally leaning down, placing a light kiss over his tip. The sound Sirius emitted was so sinful, you felt your arousal dripping from your cunt. 
James had moved over the bed, one hand still over Sirius’ leg, the other on his cock, he was watching mouth dry as you leaned down on Sirius. He had only dreamed of you doing such a thing, never daring to ask for it. 
You took a deep breath, and went for a long lick, all the way from shaft to the end. Remus smirked, such a tease, he thought. 
Sirius moaned again, head plopping back into the pillows James had placed when he moved to the side.
Remus hummed “Stop teasing him so much sweetheart,” he said as he placed a hand on the side of Sirius’ face, brushing lightly from his temple to his neck all the while looking tenderly at the boy, “He might just combust in flames if you keep it up.” 
You stroked Sirius one more time, brushing your thumb over his tip the way you knew he liked so much and then you leaned down again, this time wrapping your mouth around his tip. You didn’t go down too deep at first, only really staying around the tip, making sure to test how much you could actually fit into your mouth without it getting uncomfortable. 
You started moving your tongue around his tip, nipping and teasing. Another moan escaped from Sirius’ mouth, James didn’t know where to look as he touched himself, either at you or Sirius’ pleasure-driven face. At some point, you felt a slight buckle of Sirius’ hips, or at least an attempt of it, since both James and Remus had managed to restrain him from moving too much. 
“Please,” he begged. You knew exactly what he wanted. When he got all whinny like that, it was because he wanted you to pick up the pace, either by stroking him faster or bobbing your hips up and down his length. You squeezed slightly with your hand since you knew how much he liked it when you clenched your “tight little pussy” around him. And finally, you started to bob your head up and down, slowly, taking in very little of him in your mouth at first. Testing the waters.
Sirius emitted the kind of groan you only heard of him when he was so deep into you, he couldn’t think of anything else. You then felt Remus’ hand, the one he wasn’t using to hold Sirius’s hip, moving under your skirt. Slowly moving up until he reached the tender flesh of the inside of your tight. And then he went further up, tracing your slit with his long finger. 
“Fuck,” he whispered, “Pads, if you could feel how wet she is at this point… she’s practically dripping.”
Remus knew exactly what he was doing, Sirius was as much into physical pleasure as emotional, much like you were, and Remus was well aware knowing such a thing would set his boyfriend on fire, he wasn’t wrong, you could feel his hips trying to buckle into your mouth again, only to be stopped by the boys’ strong hands.  
Remus did not remove his hand either, he kept playing around your slit, slowly parting with two fingers as you perked your ass just a bit more for easier access, which just had him grin. You moaned when he placed one of his fingers over your clit and started rubbing, Remus had the most confident grip when it came to finger fucking you, and he always delivered. 
You started taking in a bit more of Sirius, forcing yourself a little over what you’d consider your comfort zone. Every moan his noises and Remus’ hands pulled from you, reverberating across his cock and bringing him closer. 
“Sweethea… aaaah, fuck.” Sirius was trying to tell you something, but the way his moans sounded, you knew exactly what he wanted to say. 
Regardless, it was James who took his hand away from his own cock and bought it to caress your back, “Kitten…” he said softly, you eyed him, not stopping the way you moved your mouth around Sirius, which almost got him to lose his train of thought, “Kitten, Sirius is about to come,” he informed. 
You hummed in response, being aware of it already. You knew. Finally, that brought Remus back into the conversation “Wait, luv, does that mean you’re going to…” you hummed again. 
“fuck,” you heard him whisper. She’s gonna swallow, he thought, not being able to keep his eyes off you. 
Sirius was just as impressed, even if he wasn’t thinking much at this point, he had brought his hand down, and he toyed with your hair before settling it just over the back of your neck, he wasn’t pushing though, he was rubbing soft circles with his thumb, even amongst all the madness you’d brought to him, he was still thinking of your comfort. 
You drove your head up and down three more times, and then you felt it, warm and a little salty, spurring into your mouth. And as you had planned you swallowed it all, helping Sirius ride through his orgasm by still bobbing your head a couple of times. 
“It’s ok sweetheart,” you heard James, he still had his hand on your back “He’s done, you can stop.” 
You did, slowly taking your mouth out and letting your head fall over Sirius’ belly, making sure to keep your ass up so Remus wouldn’t stop toying with your pussy, which he wasn’t planning on either way. Sirius looked at you, breath heavy as he wrapped his hand over your cheek, “That was incredible sweets, and for your first time.” 
You pressed a soft, gentle kiss to his stomach, and then turned your eyes back to him “I’d been observing you…” you said. Being stoped by your own moan as Remus drove a finger inside of you “taking notes of what each of my boys likes best.” 
“fuck you’re so tight,” the boy whispered, only James heard, you and Sirius were too wrapped in your own little bubble. 
“Have you now?” he said with a teasing smile, “you might become the best of the three,” he whispered, it earned him a smack from James, who had been attentively watching the way Remus finger fucked you, imagining how it would look like without the skirt. 
“Next time you beg for me to blow you after a game I’ll tell you to go beg elsewhere,” he teased. Which earned a chuckle from you and Sirius. 
“I want to see,” Sirius added, motioning to Remus’ hand under your skirt. 
“That makes two of us,” James said as he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into a sitting position, you whined in response, almost crying at the loss of Remus’ expert fingers. 
“It’s ok baby, we’re just gonna reposition,” James cooed, and he started to unbutton your shirt as Remus got on the bed, taking off his shirt in one swift motion before helping James remove yours. The boys moved in tandem, smoothly as if they knew exactly what the other was about to do next, which perhaps they did, since they knew each other so well. Once the shirt was off, you felt the cold air perk your nipples, giving both boys sitting in front of you their own little show. While that was going on, Remus was the one to unbutton and unzip your skirt, lifting you up towards him as James pulled it off. 
Remus placed you in between his legs, enjoying the feeling of the soft bare skin of your back flushing against his torso. He hadn’t yet removed his pants, but you could feel how hard he was under them, so hard it’s gotta be painful.
But Remus had only two moods, either being patient or being desperate; today he was the first one, so when you rocked your hips back, trying to get a reaction, he just held you down “Steady on sweetheart, let us enjoy you first.” 
And they were going to enjoy you, while Remus spread you wide open, carefully passing your feet over his legs so they would stay in position, James had leaned in to spread soft kisses on your neck. All of you facing Sirius, who was just smiling darkly at the sight. 
Remus was slow at first, passing a hand over your inner tight, massaging the soft skin before getting closer to your slit. Even then, he just massaged around it “Remus!” you whined, which only earned him a chuckle. 
“What is it luv?” he asked, playing dumb. 
“Yeah, what is it?” James asked, unlaching his lips from your neck and turning to you, joining the teasing. 
“Please!” you added, grabbing onto Remus’ hand and placing it on your slit. 
Finally, he complied, tracing his strong fingers over your slit, still impossibly wet. James had already moved on to kiss one of your nipples, nipping and teasing the tender skin. Sucking it into peaks before laying it back with his tongue. One of his hands had been placed in the small of your neck, and the other on your other breast, making sure not to let it skip on the fun. 
“How are you three so goddamned beautiful?” you heard Sirius mumble as he enjoyed the view. 
This time around, after toying with your clit once more, Remus placed two fingers inside instead of one, which had you gasp, but he just smiled devilishly as he thrusted them in and out, eliciting one of his favourite sounds in the world, your moans. While lost in bliss, you felt James’ cock brush against your skin, which made you remember how forgotten you had left him tonight, so you reached out and brushed your hand around it, brushing your thumb over the tip a couple of times, earning a couple of moans from him. 
“Yes, please,” he whispered, and you complied, finally starting to stroke him. James did not stop the kissing as you continued to move your hand up and down his length, only moaning your name a couple of times, and squeezing your breast a little tighter when he was close. 
You were just as close, you realized Remus had been not only finger fucking you, but preparing you as well, slowly stretching you out with the help of his two fingers. Remus was big, and without stretching, he just didn’t fit in. And if he was stretching you out, then it meant he knew he’d get your wet little cunt tonight and it only fueled him more and turned you on even more in return. You buckled your hips against his fingers a couple of times, and his pace became faster. Just like your stroking around James’ cock. 
James came first, thrusting into your hand as his cum dripped all over it, finally unlatching himself from your nipples and breathing heavily as he stared dumbly at you and Remus, lips parted and slightly red, just the sight of it made you buckle your hips against Remus’ hand once again. He was about to take his wand to clean your hand with it, when Remus used his free hand to bring it over to his mouth and ran his tongue from your wrist bone to your fingers, licking most James’ cum along, which James swore made his cock twitch again. 
And then Remus turned to you, not slowing down the pace on your pussy, but looking as calm as unbothered as if he were a teacher asking a student for an answer “Do you want to taste him too, sweetheart?” 
You nodded, and he pushed your hand towards your mouth, carefully placing the soft section between your thumb and your wrist right over your lips, it was the only section still covered with James’ cum, and you slowly brought your lips around it, sucking carefully on your hand and letting your lips slowly go back to their place as Remus’ pulled your hand out. James was a little saltier than Sirius, but also relatively sweet.
“fuck… i’m gonna end up getting hard again,” you heard James’ groan, which had Sirius chuckle as he pulled the boy towards him. 
“Come Prongs, enjoy the show with me,” he said with a smile. James leaned in and gave Sirius a short kiss before leaning on his shoulder. 
“All right sweetheart, your turn,” Remus said as he brought his index finger from the other hand to your clit, you leaned your head back on his shoulder, buckling your hips against him with more conviction now that you weren’t distracted by anything else. 
His pace quickened and you moaned and whined under his expert hands “Hmmm… please Rem, I’m about to…” 
“It’s ok baby, be good and come all over my fingers,” he cooed, and you did, harshly pulling your head back as you allowed him to finger fuck you to oblivion. “There we go, such a good girl for me, isn’t that right?” he praised, as he brought his hand, still wet with your slick over to his mouth and sucked sinfully over the two fingers that were inside of you, moaning as he tasted your juices. He then turned back to you again. “Now, are you gonna allow me to fuck that tight little pussy of yours tonight or do you feel too tired already?” 
You wanted nothing more than for Remus to stretch you up just right, so you nodded, head still a little foggy from the high, “Please Remus,” you added for good measure, moving your hips back just to feel him press against you one more time. 
Finally, you moved to the side, allowing the boy to take both his pants and underwear off before he laid down on the bed, Remus knew it was easier for you to be the one to ride him, at least at first –and when he was the first one– since that way you had a little more control over how big he was, and he was always more than happy to let you do it, in fact, he quite enjoyed the way your breast bounced as you bobbed up and down his length. And he knew the boys liked it just as much, so he strategically laid in a way so that they would get a good view of you. 
You slowly straddled him, placing both knees on each side of his hip before rubbing yourself against his cock a couple of times, causing him to moan this time. You were still so fucking wet.
Eventually, you lifted yourself up and lined him with your entrance. He placed both of his hands around your hips, to help hold you up as you slowly pushed yourself down, moaning as you went as deep as you could. Remus had responded to your tightness with a grunt, truth be told he’d been dreaming of it from the moment he went to pick you up. 
You started bobbing up and down his length, slow at first, but picking up that pace as your walls got used to his size. Remus had his hands on your waist, helping you move easily as he started to thrust up into you, reaching the right spot. “fuck… yes,” you said breathily as he continued thrusting.
“So fucking tight,” Remus breathed as he helped you ride him, completely focused on you, on your parted lips, your soft huffs and moans; you were absolutely entrancing in the way you moved your hips on him, “You’re taking me in so well sweetheart…” 
You moaned, and clenched around him, which just caused him to buckle against you even harder. That got you to whimper and you brought both of your palms to lay over his shoulders, to hold yourself better as you continued to rock your hips on the boy, “Baby… if you keep that up I’m not gonna last,” he added, and just to tease him, you clenched again, eliciting a moan from the boy so sinful, it fueled you to keep moving, faster this time around.
“So beautiful, aren’t they Prongs?” you heard Sirius say, almost not quite registering it with the way Remus’ cock trusted into you right after. The other boy hummed in response, not able to take his eyes off the way you were moving. 
When Remus was close, he switched the two of you around, laying you flat on the bed as he brought one of his hands over to your clit, “Be a good girl and come for me one last time sweetheart,” he said as he continued to thrust. Holding back his own orgasm, he wanted to hear you moan his name as he came. 
And after a few more flicks and circles of his thumb, with his pace quickening, you came, “hmm Remus…” you whispered as he continued to thrust inside of you, the way your walls clenched around tipping the boy over the edge, he had hold it back so long, he practically grunted into your ear and spiled inside of you.
Eventually, he pulled back, staring at your pussy as he panted, you knew what he wanted and so you squeezed, allowing the thick white liquid to spill from your inside, dripping from your entrance to the back of your ass. Remus really liked to see the evidence of fucking you, somehow satisfying his most primal desires, or so he’d told you once. 
Remus brought one of his hands back to your cunt, you shivered with the contact since you were still slightly overstimulated, but he didn’t budge, using his middle and index to gather some of your combined juices, he angled his head cockily, “Are you gonna taste me tonight as well sweetheart?” he asked. 
You smiled wickedly, using your elbows to prop yourself up and leaning in towards the boy’s hand, not bothering to answer as you opened your mouth and wrapped it around both of his fingers, making sure to let your lips pull as you slowly hollowed your mouth and pulled yourself back, licking your lips as you completely separated from the boy. Remus had not been expecting that, his cocky demeanour faltering as his mouth dried. Remus was the sweetest of the three. 
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A/N: this is the third piece of smut I’ve written so far, and omg this definitely got out of hand. Regardless… I do feel like I’m getting the hang of it. Maybe? A little bit? At least I don’t feel the cringe, anymore. Saying that, I do still stop myself every now and then and wonder “what the hell am I writing?” In a “I’d be burned in the stake for imagining these things” sort of way haha! Either way, I’m having fun, and that’s what matters!
The Five Senses was born as a way for me to practice writing smut for my brand new Wolfstar x Reader series that's currently being posted on a weekly basis. If you have feedback, please leve it in the comment below. I absolutely love reading your comments <3
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joequiinn · 28 days
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The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 1
[all chapters here]
summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…
notes & tropes: fem reader, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers
a/n: Was I the only one who turned 18 a month into their senior year and then proceeded to spiral and become The Worst version of themself possible?? Well, this fic is semi-inspired by that shitty part of my life lmao. Reader figure skates though. I can’t figure skate, hurts my feet lol. I never expected to write a fake dating story, but Eddie Munson has had me bewitched for nearly 2 years now, so here we go.
(if you'd like to be added to a tag list, pls let me know!)
wc: 3.9k
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Chapter One
The idea came to you during a student council meeting as the class president was droning on about the ‘85 homecoming preparations: you needed to do something crazy, something completely and utterly out of character.
Maybe it was because of your ex breaking up with you just weeks before school started. Maybe it was that senior year itch. Maybe it was the realization that you were turning 18 next week. Hell, maybe you just woke up that morning with a strong sense that the things in your life were no longer satisfying you.
Whatever the cause, since the start of your senior year, you’ve just felt so off.
Your ex, Duncan, breaking up with you right before school started was a low blow, and an absolutely shitty feeling - you didn’t date much, but when you did, it was never the guy that ended things. It wasn’t shitty because you were in love and oh so heartbreak, it wasn’t shitty because you saw a future with him. It was shitty because of how goddamn embarrassing it was.
To your peers, you were a couple that made sense, and in fact people had been urging you to go out for a while. And, obviously, you had grown to like him, considering that you were in a relationship for six months - you never would have put up with him for that long if you didn’t actually like him. But the fact that he broke up with you, and not the other way around, left a sour, spiteful taste in your mouth.
So, perhaps it was that break-up that made you feel different this entire month. Or maybe it was your impending 18th birthday, which made you realize just how close you were to legal adulthood. Whatever the cause, every single aspect of your life up to this point suddenly came under your deep scrutiny. You just weren’t… happy?
That made it sound bad, but what were you enjoying right now? What got you excited every day? As you sat in the student council meeting, zoning out since the very start, you came to think that maybe you had nothing going on right now that you genuinely wanted in your life.
Hell, you weren’t even on the student council because you enjoyed it, Janet just dragged you into it back in your sophomore year. You figured she loved the sense of importance it gave her. She and everyone else in the council probably got off on how important they felt, the dictators of Hawkins High School.
You always ran in this crowd, and before you never questioned it. The popular kids, the rich kids, the successful kids. You don’t remember ever choosing these friends and acquaintances - if anything, it seemed that these peers were all a constant, as if they’d always been there from the very start. You figured it was the natural state of the world - as the daughter of one of the richest men in town, you were predestined to end up here. Not here as in the student council, surrounded by other spoiled rich kids debating the difference between turquoise and cyan. But here in an even broader sense - in a finely curated life, in all the “right” circles, on the path to either greatness or becoming the trophy wife of greatness.
Up until now, you’d never questioned it. Yes, mom and dad, you were a popular kid whose free time was fully booked between college prep, figure skating, student council, dates with a cookie-cutter boyfriend, and everything else under the sun. Yes, mom and dad, you were doing everything they all told you too because it would look great on your college applications, because that’s what you’re supposed to do, because that’s how things have always been done.
It started to dawn on you maybe a week or so into the school year just how mundane you were - you never questioned your time spent skating or on extracurriculars, you never went against the order of things as dictated by only the most popular of your peers. That’s just what was done, what was always done. But after your ex dared to break up with you, you came to realize recently that maybe all of this wasn’t what you wanted - maybe it was time to start making some choices for yourself instead of worrying what your parents told you or what your peers thought or what to do to keep your boyfriend semi-happy.
So, you started to consider what exactly it was that you wanted. And that proved to be more challenging than you anticipated, which probably would have sounded extremely pathetic if you had said it to any of the people sitting next to you.
Did you like figure skating? Of course, it was your idea after all. What you didn’t like was the pressure from your mother to train and become an Olympian, a feat that was never your intention when you took up the sport at six years old. Besides, you told her, you were way past the age for trials, you’d never get in (or, at least, that’s what you told her, because how the hell would you know whether or not there was a cut off age).
Did you like your friends? You thought so - you’d known them virtually your entire life, so you never questioned your relationship with them. But proximity didn’t necessarily go hand-in-hand with likeability. Maybe some of them you actually liked, but the rest? No, they were just around because they always had been.
Did you like your relationship before Duncan broke up with you? No, probably not. Of course, your opinion of him and that entire relationship was soured now, but even at the time, you were probably just going through the motions, doing things that couples do without any real heart in it.
So… What did you want? What did you actually like?
It was jarring to realize that your entire life had been dictated and finely tuned for you from the moment you were born, that even the things you wanted had been molded into new shapes by your parents or your peers or your teachers.
Once you realized how little of your life was in your own hands, you couldn’t get it out of your head. You always saw yourself as someone who was in control, as someone who couldn’t be told shit. And yet, you came to realize that that was far from the truth. It was as if suddenly everything about your life was something you hated. You hated your classes, you hated your friends, you hated running in the same circle as your ex, you hated all your obligations. Through the first few weeks of senior year, all you felt was frustration, disinterest, and absolute boredom with everything around you. Something had to change. And during the bullshit student council meeting, you became determined to make it happen.
So, over the course of that boring as all hell meeting, you tried to figure out what you wanted, and how you were going to get it. You set a goal for yourself, silly but helpful considering the structure you were so accustomed to: you’d set your plan in motion on your birthday. New year, new you, right?
Once you gave yourself that deadline, you then had to think about what exactly you were trying to accomplish - yes, you wanted to make some major changes, you wanted to, in a way, become a new person, but how were you going to do that?
You settled on four key things to keep in mind:
You wanted to piss off your parents big time - your dad barely acknowledged your existence and your mom coddled you, so actually upsetting them would be a feat unto itself. You had to become so awful that even your mother would stop making excuses for you.
You needed to drop your friends - the more you thought about all the people you grew up alongside, the more you realized that you weren’t particularly interested  in relationships with any of them. Whether you made new friends or not wasn’t a priority, in fact you kind of liked the idea of just being left alone.
You had to figure out what you actually enjoyed - outside of skating, you had no idea what really interested you, what you would like to do with your life and your free time. You figured it was time to do some self reflection and focus on finding things that you’d actually enjoy.
And, most importantly, you had to get back at your ex. Yeah, it was stupid to be motivated by a boy, but nothing would make you happier than seeing him worked up and frustrated. Your focus wasn’t on trying to win him back or anything like that - you wanted to piss him off, to exact some kind of revenge for making you look like an idiot when he broke up with you at a party that all your friends had attended.
How you were going to accomplish these, however, was yet to be determined. But they were a damn good starting point, and they got you motivated to become an absolute nuisance to everyone around.
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The Friday following the student council meeting, you decided to first experiment with a little something, satiate a mild curiosity. To anyone else, it was probably the most mundane thing in the world, but to a high schooler who thought graduation was life or death, doing anything out of the ordinary felt nail-biting.
You were going to sit at a new lunch table.
You had just two days left until your birthday, until you’d officially set your plan in motion, so you still had a little more time to come up with something. So far, you couldn’t think of shit. You were already someone who was blunt and commanding and mean, whose thoughts and feelings were always on your face, so people were used to you being bossy and a little miserable - you couldn’t start being meaner or blunter, you just knew that wouldn’t be enough. Maybe you could start skipping class, maybe you could start flaking on friends, but somehow none of that felt like enough, like it wouldn’t make a statement. You had to really make an impression, to really set yourself up for a total ruination of your social status, you just hadn’t figured out how.
But a new lunch table was as good a starting point as any, right?
You chose a table at the far end of the lunchroom; customarily your group of friends, acquaintances, and ex sat centrally, surrounded by the jocks on one side and the academics on the other. The new table you chose was only occupied by two other people, a dorky little couple who looked at you funny when you sat as far from them as possible. In turn, you gave them an icy cold glare, prompting them to look away quickly, like you were a Medusa who could turn them to stone.
Your stupid little lunchroom plan was a bust, though. Five minutes into your peaceful lunch, your two closest friends, Amelia and Janet found you, each looking perplexed and put-off by your seat of choice. They looked around before lowering into the seats around you, their expression full of something akin to disgust, as if sitting at a different table was that offensive.
“What are we doing over here?” Amelia asked judgmentally, eyeing the couple at the opposite end of the table. Across the lunchroom, a few people (including Duncan) from your usual lunch table looked at you funny, “It’s like we’re exiled or something.”
So dramatic, you thought while staring harshly at her.
“Change of scenery.” You answered plainly, stabbing at the food in front of you. Amelia hummed in acknowledgement, but still made it quite clear that she didn’t agree with the decision.
“What, does this have something to do with Duncan?” She jabbed, receiving another nasty look from you, “So, he’s a jerk? Get over it.”
You should’ve known this idea was too simple to work. Of course they’d just follow you like the lemmings that they were, just as unable to make their own decisions as you were. Yeah, you definitely needed to try something bigger to scare them off.
Briefly, you thought that you could maybe tell them, just say point blank, “Amelia, Janet, I hate being around you and this friendship is done.” But, again, you figured that wouldn’t be good enough, that they’d laugh at your mean sense of humor even if you reiterated yourself. In this crowd, being mean was never enough to make your point, because all of you were nasty, not only to each other but to virtually everyone you met.
And despite your well-known attitude problem, you still cared about Amelia and Janet, flaws and all. These were the girls that you’d known since you were five years old, of course you worried about their feelings at least a little bit - nearly 13 years of friendship would do that to anyone. Guess you had more of a heart than you gave yourself credit for.
You definitely needed a foolproof plan to get out of this friendship, this social circle, this popular bubble that you’d always been trapped in. The friendship had to end without you saying so. You had to push them out until they finally gave up on you. Make it seem like it was their idea, that would definitely work on them.
As you schemed, Amelia and Janet chatted around you. Various acquaintances stopped by the table, all with the same question: what the hell were you guys doing sitting all the way out here? Even Duncan was amongst those that asked, trying to ignore the way you glared daggers at him. Amelia and Janet gave various responses, all of which put blame on you as if this simple little decision meant their utter ruination.
As Duncan was preparing to walk back to your usual lunch table, a commotion rose out in the hallway, the echo of rapid footfall drifting in through the doors. Multiple heads turned to face the cafeteria doors with curiosity, some people peeked out into the hall to check what the yelling was about, scurrying back to their friends to report what they’d seen. You, Amelia, Janet, and Duncan all waited silently, sharing raised brows and curious looks.
Not even a minute later, Eddie freaking Munson came crashing into the lunchroom, a look of total glee on his face as he cackled, not even remotely fazed by all the eyes on him. As he tumbled through the cafeteria doors, you jumped a little at the burst of sound. Eddie’s disruption turned everyone’s heads now, the lunchroom silent in shock and loathing as the resident outcast ran between tables, heading for the set of doors at the opposite end of the room. Your gaze was locked on the shit disturber as he blew past your table, carelessly running into Duncan in the process, but even that collision didn’t slow him down. Duncan yelled at him, but Eddie was focused on one goal, and if this were a cartoon you definitely would have seen dust kick up behind him from how quickly he was moving.
Not too far behind was Coach Miller, a look of absolute rage marring his puffy red face as he pursued Eddie. It didn’t even seem to cross his mind that he was making a fool of himself in front of the entire student body - his only focus was stopping the offender of whatever shenanigans currently pissed him off.
Your gaze turned back to the excited Eddie, an undeniable curiosity rising in you - what the hell did he do to piss off Coach Miller this bad? Sure, the coach was always pretty damn temperamental, but you couldn’t recall ever seeing him look quite this upset before.
Eddie paused at the cafeteria doors to turn and pull a mocking face at the coach before darting from the room, as if nothing in the world could touch him and he was unstoppable.
As Coach Miller disappeared after Eddie and students returned to their usual conversations, albeit with an air of awkwardness, you stared at the cafeteria doors thoughtfully.
That’s when an idea began to form.
You needed to take a page out of Eddie Munson’s book. If anyone in this school knew how to be a thorn in everyone’s side, it was him. So, you spent the remainder of your lunch brainstorming, trying to figure out how to channel even a sliver of Eddie’s energy; you only chimed into the conversation when someone spoke to you directly.
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In the middle of fifth period, you still weren’t quite sure what your game plan was, but you at least had a vague starting point. While your history teacher rambled on about some significant European war that you couldn’t begin to care about, you tapped your pencil as you thought about Eddie Munson (a sentence that very nearly grossed you out).
You’ve known about him since your freshman year - at the time, he was a year ahead of you, but since then he’d been held back. People always sneered when talking about him, as if Eddie was the most offensive thing they’d ever encountered, as if he was some kind of plague. He went against all social norms you’d learned up to that point, he was contradictory to everything you’d ever been taught about social conduct and likeability - he wore ratty clothes, listened to scary music, acted out in the most theatrical ways possible, and never seemed to give a shit what anyone thought.
You had never spoken to Eddie personally. Through the years you’d had a few classes together, including your math class this year, so you’ve witnessed some of his antics. But really, you knew nothing about the guy. Just the things that everyone else told you, and those things were nothing good. Whether or not Eddie was as bad as people said didn’t matter to you. His reputation was shit, and in this instance that’s exactly what you needed.
So, how were you going to ruin your senior year with the help of Eddie Munson? Well, at the very least, maybe you first had to have a conversation with him. It would be pretty stupid to walk up to him and go “hey, Munson, I know everyone here hates you, how about we chat and you make them hate me, too!”
Maybe you needed to find a way to hang out with him? Pretend to be friends long enough that the rest of the student body begins to ostracize you? With a little amused huff, an even worse thought crossed you: maybe you needed to pretend you were interested in Eddie Munson for a while, that was sure to piss just about everyone off. Especially Duncan.
But then the idea gave you pause.
You could not pretend to flirt with, or even date, Eddie fucking Munson. No chance in hell that would work. No way he would go for it, and no way you’d be able to tolerate him long enough to convince anyone that you were even remotely into him.
But… maybe?
Shit, what a stupid idea.
Or maybe it was a brilliant one.
You mulled it over a few minutes longer - if you were going to, somehow, convince Eddie Munson to pretend to date you, you needed to offer him something in exchange, that was obvious. You needed to give him a good reason to help you out, or this plan was never going to work. Its chances of success already seemed slim to none.
You had one idea, though you weren’t entirely certain if he’d go for it.
Your Uncle Tom was a cop, had been with the force your entire life - and you’d bet he’s probably had at least one run-in with Eddie. Maybe you’d tell Eddie that you could get cops to leave him alone, to stop watching him wearily whenever they were around. You couldn’t promise him too much, of course, but you knew at the very least that you could get your uncle to leave him alone. Or you could even take the fall here and there for whatever trouble Eddie inevitably lands himself in - what cop was stupid enough to arrest the niece of a cop and the daughter of a man who owned half of Hawkins?
It wasn’t foolproof, and you knew there were flaws to be found, but it just might work.
So, with your mind made up, you rip a scrap of paper from your notebook and scribble out a quick message:
Let’s make a deal. Sunday. You pick the time and place. Locker #436
You’d hoped that Eddie would be smart enough to realize that you wanted him to write you back, to drop his own stupid note in your locker so you could meet up and tell him your stupid, crazy idea. God, this better work.
You swiftly raise your hand in the air, giving a small impatient wave when your teacher didn’t acknowledge you right away, instead trying to focus on his lecture.
He rolled his eyes when he spotted your hand in the air, pointing at you and saying in an annoyed monotone, “What’s so important that you’re interrupting?”
Without any hesitation, you state bluntly, “Lady troubles.”
The teacher looks shocked by how plainly you stated it. But because it was you that said it and not someone else, your peers didn’t dare laugh, although a couple boys seemed to choke in surprise or amusement.
“Go, go…” Your teacher waved you off before continuing his lecture, wanting to forget the small interaction entirely.
You exited the room and roamed the halls confidently. Eddie’s locker wasn’t hard to miss - he was one of the students that decorated the metal with crude permanent marker sketches, and the school was too cheap to care about replacing or painting over it. As you approached Eddie’s locker, you checked around to make sure no one spotted you; it wasn’t as if you were committing a crime, but you didn’t need anyone wondering what you were up to in case this plan didn’t work.
So, you slipped the note into his locker, returned to class, and waited impatiently for the final bell of the day to ring, hoping that Eddie would actually stop by his locker and not just leave school without ever seeing your note.
When the end of the day came, it took everything in your power not to rush back to your own locker - just in case, you didn’t want him spotting you there. Why all the secrecy, you sure as hell didn’t know, but you nonetheless continued it.
So, you waited, stopping into the bathroom to check your makeup, walking with Amelia and Janet as they stopped at their own lockers. As the three of you exited the building and walked into the parking lot, you pretended to remember something, telling them that you needed to run back inside. You said your quick goodbyes and went back to wandering the halls, finally opening up your own locker.
It was stupid that your heart leapt when you saw a crudely torn piece of paper resting on top of some of your belongings.
You opened it quickly, eagerly reading the metalhead’s response:
Picnic table behind the football field, 4.
God, what were you getting yourself into.
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softbeej · 3 months
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Rule Number One (You Gotta Have Fun)
Alastor x Reader Smut. U break his only rule and bother him while hes tryna work. Enjoy. :} Requests open btw.
Alastor had locked himself up in his radio tower for what felt like days. He was truly a workaholic, and loved to be busy. This was fine, except you found yourself actually sort of... missing him?
No sight of him creeping down the hallway or the impending feeling that he was about to catch you doing something prohibited at the hotel. It all felt too empty all of a sudden, and you wished he’d be back down soon, even if just to make you uneasy with that eerie smile.
So, you decided to break the number one rule set by him.
“Under no circumstances is anyone to ever enter the radio tower without my express permission.”
Well, what are rules if not to be broken, right? And that’s where you found yourself, climbing up into the prohibited area.
Ears pressed back, he turned to face you. There was no other way to put it, Alastor was fucking pissed.
You shouldn’t of come up here. You should of listened to his stupid rule, and busied yourself with something else. Maybe you had time to turn around, and pretend you made a wrong turn.
“I trust you have something important for me? Something that would be worth you coming all the way up here without my say so, hm?”
His voice was even more staticky than usual, his tone dripping with sarcasm. You were thinking up a response when he stood up and strode over to you. He jabbed his microphone stand under your jaw, albeit gently, and forced you to look at him.
“Well, deary?”
You only shook your head, hair bouncing on your shoulders.
“Then why, pray tell, are you up here? And use your words this time, yes?”
Within those few words, you suddenly understood why he was so feared. Just from the way he spoke, he could make you feel tiny and stupid.
“I, um, was just wondering where you were, is all...”
“Oh?” He released the microphone stand and you faced the floor again, feeling like a child about to get scolded. “You did know where I was though, didn’t you? So, I’ll ask once more. What brought you up here?”
He had retired back to his chair, and was watching you intently as you squirmed at his questioning. His smile never once left his face.
“You know what, I should go-“
Slam. His shadow had closed the door.
“Has no one ever told you it’s rude to ignore someone, darling? I’m just asking you a simple question, what’s the need for all this attitude? Why are you here?”
Blush rising to your face, you picked at skin around your nails still not wanting to look at his shit eating grin.
“I was bored. Missed you.”
“Ah, there we go! You see how easy that was?”
You nodded, “Can I go now? Sorry for interrupting...”
“Nonsense! You missed me, did you not? You came all the way up here for me, desperate for my attention. Well, dear, my attention you have got. Come, sit, sit.” He patted his thigh.
Oh, how you wished the world would swallow you up right now. But the worst part of this was how turned on you were at his lecturing. You think your reaction was doing the same to him, given the way his ears were perked up and pupils blown.
You walked over to him, gently perching on his knee, before he pulled you down by your waist so you were properly sitting in his lap. He continued working, tapping buttons and twisting dials, as you could only sit there and pray your heart rate would soon go back to normal.
"If I did not know any better, I'd say this encounter has you quite excited, darling! The way your pulse is rising, and not to mention the fact I can smell the arousal on you!" He laughed. "You'd tell me, wouldn't you? If I had brought out such emotions in you."
Your blood drew hot in shame, he knew.
You nodded and tried to save face, "Yes, Alastor. I'm fine, just- my pulse is high from the walk up here, that's all."
"And if you were to stand up, your answer would be the same, I presume?"
Confused, you cocked your head. He didn't say anything, just wrapped his hands around your waist and stood you up.
There it was, the evidence he was looking for. A wet patch on his thigh. Right from where you were sitting. Your wetness had leaked through your panties, leaving a spot on his dress pants.
“Well, look at this mess. And my best pants, no less! Do you have anything to say for yourself, dear?”
You shook your head, never so embarrassed in your life.
He tutted, "First, you lie about why you came up here. Then you lie about this? Darling, have you no manners? Or am I to teach you them myself, hm?"
His eyes were half lidded now, ears twitching.
"I- uh. I think you need to teach me, Alastor..." You admitted, not able to take your eyes off him.
“Finally! The right answer! You’re getting the hang of this now, eh?” He laughed, and patted his thigh - the one you’d dirtied, “Back up here. May as well see how much more you can ruin them.”
Legs shaking, you stood up and straddled his thigh. He leaned in close, “Now get yourself off. You can do that, yes? If your mewls at night are anything to go by, I’d say you’re to be a natural at this!”
The thought of Alastor hearing you play with yourself through your bedroom door sent shivers down your spine, in a good way. He grabbed your chin, angling your head to face him.
“I said you can do that, yes, dear?”
You nodded, hands reaching up to his shoulders to steady yourself as you started grinding down on his thigh like your life depended on it, maybe it did. You could feel his cock hardening. His hands trailed down your body to your hips where they stayed, helping you slowly ride his thigh.
“Theres a good girl, hm? See what happens when you behave?”
You nodded, breathing heavy, “Uh-huh.”
Alastor nodded, his hips gently bucking up for friction. Your hand went to zipper to help, but he brushed it away.
“This is your lesson. Not mine.” He winked.
So you kept riding his thigh, until your own thighs were weak, and you were close. And he knew it.
“If this were a proper lesson, I wouldn’t allow you to cum. But you’ve been so good, so good for me... You may cum.”
You nodded into the nook of his neck, letting out a pathetic whiny mewl as you came, soddening his pants. From the sound of it, he came too, letting out a staticky grunt that would of hurt your ears if you were paying attention, but you were too busy grinding your way through your climax, as he shushed you gently.
He helped you stand up, your thighs shaking and almost giving out under you. A sharp finger pressed into the stain on his pants, before he collected some of the wetness and licked it off.
“Head off to my bedroom, now, love. Get yourself cleaned up. I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”
The walk to his bedroom was strange to say the least. Your knees shaking and panties wet, of course Angel was going to say something.
“Christ, you look like you been fucked good, sweets.”
“I have, I think...?”
“Oh yeah? And whose the lucky son of a bitch, huh? He knows not to fuck with you, right?” He winked, ever protective of you.
As if on cue, Alastor appeared, strolling carelessly toward you both. A hand on your shoulder.
“Sorry to interrupt, Angel, my dear, but I’m afraid we have something to take care of. If you’ll excuse us...” He guided you away, towards his room.
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glitterquadricorn · 2 months
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Look What You Made Me Do - MV1
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+summary: The couple was once thought to be the modern-day Romeo and Juliet (minus the unaliving part). Where you saw her, Max was not too far behind and vice versa. And despite his father's insistence to stay from her, he simply couldn't. He was enthralled by her and her persistence on the track. Together, they rose through the ranks and found themselves to be teammates in Formula one. But their story turns sour when Max betrays her in the worst way possible. +pairing: Max Verstappen x F1!driver +warnings: cheating, mentions the p*quets, curse words, hate comments, poorly edited. If i missed something, let me know.
face claim: Florence Pugh
I do not give my permission to have my work reposted. I do not give my permission to have my work translated. If I'm notified that you've stolen my work or claim it as your own, you'll be asked to take it down before I'll report you. End of discussion.
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Her phone constantly vibrated against the glass coffee table of Max and Her's home. People were mentioning her in a tweet made from one of those wag accounts saying that Max was spotted with another woman that wasn't her and that he could be cheating. 'Max wouldn't cheat on me, right?' she thought to herself. Although, she remembered he had been acting rather weird lately. But him acting weird could mean anything.
The sound of the front door opening and closing and keys hitting the ceramic bowl alerted her that Max was home. Her eyes went straight to the bright orange bag in his hand. The same bright orange bag from the picture in the tweet.
"What's going on in that head of yours, Schatz?" Max hugged her, kissing the top of her head. He smelled like her.
"Thinking about what to make for dinner. Anything in particular?"
"I was thinking we could get takeout."
"Sounds good." She watched as Max turned towards their bedroom and tucked neatly into the collar of his shirt, which was a redbull shirt no shock there, was a semi dark hickey. A hickey she knew she didn't put there. Maybe that one tweet was right.
Dinner that night was a silent affair. The question of rather or not he was actually cheating weighed heavily on her mind. One half of her was being completely ignorant and believing Max would never do such a thing. The other half, the rational half, are putting the pieces together and ringing the alarm bells and are practically shouting from the rooftops that he is most definitely cheating. It was getting to be too much for her.
"Are you cheating on me?"
Max began choking on the water in his mouth. "What? Are you crazy? Where are you even getting this from?"
"It's just- I kept getting tagged in that one tweet-"
"And you believe it? You know those kinds of accounts make stuff up."
"Never said I did, Max," she said. "But explain the orange shopping bag, or how you got that hickey on your neck, or how you smell like none of the perfumes I have."
"I don't have to deal with this." Max stood up from the table and y/n followed after him.
"So, they're true?"
"Y/n, I don't want to talk about this right now."
"Well, that's just too damn bad. We're talking about this now because If we don't it won't get talked about at all."
Max faced her, his body shaking with anger. "Fine! Yes, I did cheat on you. Is that what you wanted to hear? How you weren't good enough and will never be good enough for me? How you'll never be good enough for anyone? How sometimes I can't fucking stand you to be around you? You. are. insufferable."
Her eyes started to fill with tears. In all the years she's known Max, he's never not once gotten this mad nor has he ever been this hateful. As if he realized what he's said, he began to apologize profusely.
"I'm so, so sorry, Schatz." Max tried to come closer to comfort her, but she stepped away.
"Thanks for letting me know how you really feel about me, Max. I'll uh get out of your hair."
"Y/n, please-"
"No amount of apologizing will ever make me forget what you said. You were the love of my life, the man that I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with and have kids with."
"But we can still have that!"
"It's rather funny you're trying to save a relationship you destroyed," she chuckled loudly at Max's audacity. "Tell me, how long have you been cheating? And be honest, I deserve that much."
With his head hung low in shame, he mumbled, "Nearly a year."
"Unbelievable."
Before heading off to their bedroom to pack some clothes, she looked at the man she once loved. "You know, I've dealt with a lot in my life. I've traveled the world seeing it in a whole new light while doing what I loved, been in a crash or two that was painful, seen and experienced things I didn't think I'd be able to experience, but this... this hurts the most."
Once she left the house, she got in her car and tapped on her lawyer's number, texting him.
I don't care how you do it, but just get me out my redbull contract. DON'T TELL ANYONE ABOUT THIS.
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yourinstagram(left) and maxverstappen1(right) . 2hrs ago
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yourinstagram
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liked by taylorswift, lilymhe, pierregasly and 932,312 others.
yourinstagram: Mama Tay once said don't get sad, get even 💅🏻💋#newsponsor #newthingsarecoming
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taylorswift I taught you well young grasshopper. liked by yourinstagram
lilymhe where are you going dressed like that? cause damn. ⤷ yourinstagram sponsorship meeting with a new sponsor.
user1 you want to explain that second picture?
user2 looking respectfully.
user3 new things coming? what's that supposed to mean? ⤷ user4 she did say she got a new sponsor and I assume it's with Chanel. ⤷ user5 I can't help but think the whole new things coming means something else.
pierregasly 👀👀 ⤷ yourinstagram just taking lessons from you.
francisca.cgomes are you single? ⤷ yourinstagram why yes, I am. you asking me out on a date? ⤷ francisca.cgomes of course! ⤷ pierregasly I'm right here you know. ⤷ yourinstagram I'll make sure to have her home before midnight 😉
user6 not y/n flirting with pierre's girlfriend 🤣
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For half an hour, she sat on the couch listening to Lando, Logan, Charles and Pierre answer questions about their summer break, their hopes for the second half of the season and what they want for their teams/cars. Not one question came her way, and she was happy about that. She hated doing media with a passion. She could understand they had bills to pay, families to support, but if she could get away with not doing any kind of media without being fined for it, she'd happily do it.
Just when she thought she'd have an easy day, a reporter she was familiar with, one she has had problems with since her debut in 2021, raised her hand.
"Mackenzie Smith, Espn. I have a question for you, y/n," she smiled. "Over the summer break there was a rumor going around saying you were leaving redbull at the end of the season. Is that true? Can you maybe give some insight on that?"
It's an innocent question to ask, but knowing Mackenzie, she'll somehow go off topic and ask questions she has no business asking about.
"Accounts like that always make up some of the most ridiculous things for clicks. Unfortunately, people believe it and until me, or my agent confirms it, then it's just that. A rumor."
Mackenzie huffed, clearly not satisfied with that answer. But if there's something about Mackenzie everyone should know, is she has a habit of asking rather intrusive questions she has no business asking. "Your relationship with fellow driver, Max Verstappen, ended over the summer break as well."
"My relationship, or lack thereof, is not yours or anyone's business. End of discussion."
"But he-"
"Yeah, and I said end of discussion. What part of that did you not understand?" she paused. "Now, does anyone have any other questions? No? Okay."
She sat the microphone down beside her and walked out the room. Was she going to get lectured by her PR manager? Yeah. Was she going to be fined for walking out? Probably. But she didn't care and if there was one thing she knew she didn't have to sit there and be questioned about her personal life.
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porscheformula1team
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liked by yourinstagram, mickschumacher, and 1,253,549 others.
porscheformula1team: Come meet our drivers! Mick, who is returning to the f1 grid after missing out on the 2023 season and Y/n, who finished 2nd in the drivers' standings. The future for Porsche looks bright!
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yourinstagram Thank you for this amazing opportunity, Porsche. ⤷porscheformula1team: No, thank you for taking the risk and signing with us.
mickschumacher It's good to be back in formula one.
user7 while I am excited for Mick to be back, I just think y/n is a backstabber for leaving a team that pretty built her entire career. ⤷user6 did you honestly think y/n would stick around after Max cheated on her?
user8 this is the best thing to wake up to!
user9 redbull was holding y/n back, so it's a good thing she left.
user10 future wdc winners? liked by mickschumacher, yourinstagram,porscheformula1team
user11 best driver's pairing in f1 liked by porscheformula1team
user12 signing these two was the biggest mistake Porsche ever made. ⤷porscheformula1team we beg to differ. ⤷user13 Porsche defending mick and y/n 🥰🤗
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Max Why didn't you tell me you were leaving? When did you even sign with porsche?
Y/N Didn't know I was obligated to tell you I was leaving. I signed back in August after I got that Chanel sponsor.
Max YOU SIGNED BACK IN AUGUST?! WTF
Y/N I move fast just like you.
Max What's that supposed to mean?
Y/N It means you're okay with getting into a relationship with Kelly 2 weeks after we broke up.
Max You're being childish, y/n.
Y/N Did you really think I'd stay after you cheated? In 2024, you better get used to being behind me because that WDC is mine.
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Don't let this flop. I worked real hard on it.
ALL PICTURES ARE FROM PINTEREST AND CREDIT TO THE OWNERS.
Tagging:
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