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#he has freckles how have i never noticed this before
telvess · 3 days
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Pizza delivery girl
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higuruma hiromi x reader fic, a bit of smut content (nothing extreme, only kissing, touching and inappropriate dialogues). 🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞
wc: 3,390
Big thanks to my @teatreeoilll for correct spelling and supporting me the entire time. You're the best 💕 This fic would never have been written without you!
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He doesn’t even like pizza.
And yet every time he has to do overtime in the dull room he calls an office, all while working cases and overwhelming his mind to the point where he just wants to see the bed, he finds himself thinking of you - the pizza delivery girl - and wondering if he should order another damn pizza. You slip to his mind unannounced once the tiredness takes over and his brain needs stimulation.
Higuruma Hiromi never took himself for a daydreamer, but here he is - imagining scenarios that will never happen with a woman he barely knows.
Ding dong!
Hiromi feels his co-workers' eyes on him when he gets up from his desk, their gazes follow him all the way to the door. As he walks there’s a new spring in his step. It's that time of day.
He opens the door and sees you, the woman who rules his irrational side. You smile at him, freckles clear on your fair skin.
“We meet again,” Hiromi welcomes you, looking at your peach colored hoodie with a print on it that he assumes is the cover of some band’s album.
“I’m starting to think that there’s hidden reason you order from the same place almost every day,” you point out with a smirk. Hiromi likes the way your voice changed over the last few meetings - how it became partly coy and… seductive.
“Well, I'm starting to wonder what are the odds that you're always the one who delivers my orders,” he bites back.
Your smile deepens and with slight shrug you mutter, “Touché.” You hand him over the pizza. “But don’t jump to conclusions. I’m just worried about you”— and your voice lowers to a whisper as you lean closer—“a little birdie told me you’re living here, Higuruma-san.”
Hiromi enjoys the softness in your voice, but for the love of God, don't use this tone when you say his name. You straighten up with a contented smile when you notice him swallow.
“You’re looking more tired every day,” you admit.
It’s not that you're innocent in all this.
“Nothing gets past you, does it?” As you nod the brown hair in your pigtail sways.
“You should take care of yourself before helping others.”
“Tough case,” he tries to shrug it off.
“Yeah, I heard.” Hiromi looks up to see genuine concern in your eyes. Before he can ask, you continue, “I read the papers. You did good job.”
Hiromi wants to say the case it’s far from over, but instead he decides not to; he accepts the compliment with a nod.
“Work goes better on a full stomach,” he says, raising the pizza box to light up the mood. You snort and bite your lower lip.
“Well I’m sure it could go even better if you relieved the pressure here and there.” You massage your shoulders and move them as if you were exhausted. You catch Hiromi a bit off guard with that.
“Well, I”—He rubs his hand over his two-day stubble—“Heh…” He smiles and can’t force himself to look you into eyes, feeling annoying heat spreading over his cheeks.
“No comeback, huh?” He hears you barely holding your laugher. Soon both of you laugh, more or less openly. For a moment Hiromi forgets he's at his office. The burden that weighed upon his mind lately suddenly becomes bearable.
“You know, I was wondering…” He scratches his cheek with a finger. His head is still full of doubts, but the timing feels so right that Hiromi gives in spontaneous impulse.
“About what?” you tilt your head.
“I—” “Excuse me, is this the defense attorney’s office?”
That’s not the right question.
For split of a second Hiromi doesn’t register the man appearing by your side. Then he notices a patch on the man's jacket with the symbol of the courier company.
“Yes, it is,” you say.
“Mr. Higuruma Hiromi?” The man asks and Hiromi confirms with a nod. His eyes are still on you, observing how you smile with what he hopes is some sort of disappointment. You shrug, then wave at him and finally turn away.
Hiromi watches over man’s shoulder how you go down the stairs. One last peek at your ass before the disappointment in his chest slowly builds up. He takes the package, closes the doors and comes back to his desk, too pensive to feel his co-worker's eyes on himself.
“Oh enough already!” Hiromi flinches at the woman's voice. It doesn’t happen often for her to be this angry, especially not at him and not about matters that aren’t work related.
“Why won’t you ask her out already?” She asks, crossing her hands over her chest.
If there’s one thing that Hiromi is grateful for, it’s definitely the ability to keep his cool in stressful situations. Professional habit.
“Why would I?” His voice is drier than when he was thanking the courier for his service.
His co-worker takes a deep breath, then asserts, “Because every time she turns her back you stare at her ass with those sad puppy eyes of yours.”
Is this how criminals feel when they speak to him through the glass windows in the visiting room? Because he definitely feels like one of them caught red-handed.
“There are no puppy eyes. And besides,” he pauses, lacking a counter-argument, “I don’t stare.” It takes one long skeptical gaze to break his façade. “Fine. But I wouldn’t call it staring.”
The co-worker raises her brows.
“Then how would you call it?”
“Admiring?” he mumbles, hoping she doesn’t hear it. His co-worker chuckles from behind her desk. He sighs as he looks at her, and puts the package and pizza box on his desk.
“I don’t think she would decline though.” It was naive of him to assume the conversation was over.
“Don't you have work to do?” He tries to separate himself from her by breaking the line of sight with a book. His tie starts to irritate him, but loosening it up means giving more opening to his co-worker so he lets it choke him.
He hears how her heels knock on the floor as she comes to his desk and lean over to reach the pizza box.
“It’s very unusual to see you like this. I’ve always thought you were a robot when it comes to your personal life,” she takes a piece of margarita.
Hiromi raises eyebrows. The book in his hands drops down.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
She shrugs.
“You know… very, hmm… economical?”
“Nice save,” he mumbles.
Economical was the last word Hiromi would have used describing his personal life. Not after wasting so much money for a food he never eats.
“So, are you going to ask her out?”
“No,” he says but sounds very disappointed. Damn courier.
“Why not?” She frown.
“It’s complicated—”
“Rubbish! You could sell me that crap at the beginning when the both of you were acting like teenagers. Now”— she snorts—“you basically flirt like normal people do on the third date!” she waves her hands, as if trying to convince an invisible witness. “Except you never went out once and it seems that the two of you would rather die than change that…”
His co-worker takes a bite and looks at him, but this time Hiromi’s facade doesn’t break that easy. He only shrugs.
“Ugh! What’s the matter with you?” she snaps at him. “Have made it a mission to complicate everything in your life?”
“Guilty,” he admits without a blink. There’s no point in denying this. “And you can’t do anything about it. We aren’t at court.”
Hiromi watches as she chew in silence.
“You can have all of it.” He moves the box towards her.
“I know,” she answers. “It isn’t the pizza that’s on your mind.” She takes the box and walks back to her desk. Hiromi knows what she's about to say before she opens her mouth, “But with that attitude you never gonna taste that in your lifespan.”
How vulgar…
Hiromi sits on the couch in his dull living room, with a glass in one hand and a remote in another. He flips through channels, staring at the TV without a hint of interest. When exactly did he become the person who comes back to home and has absolutely no idea what to do with himself? Everything feels like an empty time filler at this point.
Click, click, click…
Hiromi maintains a fast pace, his eyes on the screen, but mind barely present. Drama show, reality talk, an okonomiyaki advertisment… “Our national pizza!” Says a lady with her mouth full. Not the best marketing gimmick, he thinks. But yeah… He could go for a pizza. Today someone has interrupted his little tête-à-tête with you, but maybe it isn’t too late to fix it?
Before he can think it through, his hand reaches for the phone and opens the food app on its own. The pizzeria you work at is marked with a star as the only one in his favorites. Hiromi chooses a margarita, pays in advance, and hopes that your boss has forced you to work overtime today.
And then… what remains to be done? Just wait. But this time sitting in his dull living room doesn’t feel awfully boring. Hiromi finally finds a comfortable spot on his couch. He leans back and puts his feet up on the table, feeling strangely relaxed. As if he has found the missing piece of the puzzle. The advertising marathon has finishes and he watches the beginning of unknown romantic comedy. A pleasant drowsiness slowly befuddles him…
Knock knock!
Oh? Is it already time?
Hiromi gets up from the couch, his body feels dizzy at first but with each step towards the doors it gets more and more tense. Dozens of thoughts run through his head as his hand reaches for the door handle. Will that be you? What should he say? He haven’t thought of any opening line… Now, that’s the lawyer everybody needs, right?
Very slowly he presses down onto the handle and opens the door.
“Hello, your pizza- Oh! Hi, Higuruma-san! What a surprise!” Your expression changes from weary to genuinely happy; Hiromi feels your smile deep in his chest. “So you don’t really live in your office, huh?” You try to take a peek over his shoulder.
“I have to come here from time to time. Otherwise they will start imposing rent at my workplace,” he answers, shrugging.
Your whole chest trembles as you laugh, you have the same hoodie you had afternoon with faces of some band on it. Hiromi catches himself at staring for too long at your chest. It draws your attention.
“Do you like this band?” you ask, pulling the hoodie to stretch the fabric, which reveals a bit of your neckline.
Hiromi finally raises his eyes to meet yours.
“I don’t know them,” he says honestly and, given the cheerfulness in your eyes, you seem to be content with this answer.
“Ah, I see,” you slowly nod. “That’s not what interested you.”
“Nothing gets past you, does it?”
He doesn’t feel too embarrassed when you smile like this at him. Maybe his sad puppy eyes come in handy…
“Now that I caught you red-handed I won’t feel bad telling you something like this -” You smirked, “Don’t be upset, but you don’t look like a guy who likes pizza.”
You would think, huh?
“That’s a bit judgmental,” Hiromi says with unusual sensitivity in his voice that immediately puts you in defensive mode.
“Oh, no! I’m sorry!” You raise your hand in apologetic gesture. “It’s just”—you eye him up and down—“I don’t know, I guess it’s the suit. It makes you look…”
“Pompous?” he slips watching you struggle to find the right word.
“No!” you quickly deny. Too quickly. “I mean… well, kinda.” You gave up.
“Ouch.”
Hiromi has never heard you giggle before, but he could definitely get used to it. He couldn’t explain the phenomenon that makes him seek for your reaction - any reactions, really - but the idea of closing the doors right now and not getting more out of you seemed awful.
“Do you ever take it off?” you ask pointing at his loosened tie and wrinkled dress shirt.
I could for you, he thinks to his own surprise.
“Well, I was waiting for the pizza,” he reminds.
“Right. Can’t collect your order in pyjamas.” And you laugh again, which causes a rush of heat in his belly and bellow. Cursed thoughts suddenly take him to very inappropriate places where you tell him about the band printed on your hoodie as you take it off. He wonders what color of bra you wear. The white one would suit you - in his modest opinion.
“You weren’t wrong though.” He breaks himself out of the trance. “I don’t like pizza." After all the orders he made for the past few weeks.
You blink at his words, definitely not as surprised as he thought you were going to be. In fact, your reaction tells him that you knew and have played along this entire time.
“Then why did you order so many of them?” you ask, a soft smile forming on your lips.
“I was ordering you,” he finds himself saying. The moment the first word left his lips, Hiromi felt in his guts it was a bad idea, but the rest of the sentence left his lips anyway, leaving sweet-sour flavor on the top of his tongue.
He watches your eyes widen for a second, and your lips part - then close - then open again as you try to say something back, but your mind can’t find the right words.
Well, this is it then…
A lonely “oh” slips quietly out of your mouth.
Oh?
“Well, you are my last stop today.” Your rosy cheeks rise up as you smile. “Why don’t you invite me in?”
For a moment the world stops.
“Are you sure?” The lower parts of Hiromi call him an idiot, but the lower parts have never been in charge. Biting his tongue wasn’t an option.
Sudden embarrassment takes over as you look sideways and as both of you wonder about the simple “should I or should I not?” You smile and Hiromi smiles as well.
“Do you think my boss can sue me once he finds out that I’ve made him lose a regular customer?” You break the silence. Hiromi watches at the corners of your lips twitch, then raises his eyes at yours.
“Why do you assume I won’t order any more pizza in the future?” You shrug.
“Why would you if you can just call me instead?”
“So you can have nice break at work,” he answers. This is enough to make you burst out laughing.
“I see you've thought everything through carefully.”
“I only try to keep you here as long as I can.”
You make a step towards him, standing on the threshold. Much, much, much closer than usually. Hiromi could smell your perfume, but he mostly focuses on the soft smile you give him.
“Well, can’t deny it isn’t working. Lemme in,” you whisper, fidgeting with the collar of his dress shirt as you speak.
Once Hiromi opens the doors wide for you to come in and you cross the threshold, letting the pizza box fall on the ground, making you giggle again. Hiromi presses you against the doors, his hands finally on your waists, fingers tightened to feel you under the fabric of hoodie.
You are the one who closes the gap between your lips. Your smell stupefies Hiromi as you kiss him without hesitation, shamelessly penetrating his mouth with your tongue. Your fingers slide right under his collar, slowly moving around his nape, tickling his skin and sending shivers down his spine. Hiromi feels dizzy from the excess of stimuli.
“Tell me about this band,” he says once you two break away to catch a breath.
“I know only one song…” you mutter, too focused on undoing buttons of his dress shirt to give the song name. “It was an accident. I spotted the hoodie on the sale. L—Liked the color. Later found out it’s them,” you babble.
The feeling of your fingers exploring his bare chest and belly is blend of disconcerting relief and irritation. He waited for this moment for so long that now, when he finally has you, the touch of fingers isn’t enough to meet his expectations.
You place a kiss on his chin but before you can reach higher, Hiromi’s mouth is on your neck. One hand wraps around your waists, pulling you closer to him, yet still not close enough in his opinion. He wishes he could absorb you. He wants to feel the heat coming from your skin and your heartbeat quickening.
The other hand finds your buttcheek and squeezes it hard. The moan that escapes your lips is like long-awaited music in his ear. Hiromi can’t help himself and bites your earlobe to get more reactions out of you. And when that stops being enough, he starts sucking your neck and giving you hickeys while his hands roam freely all over your body, finding their way under the hoodie.
Considering how your fingers have made big mess out of his haircut and how now they dig deep into his shoulders, he assumes he's doing a good job so far.
“These damn legs of yours,” he mumbles into your ear while lifting you up so you could wrap your legs around him.
Hiromi carries you to the couch where he takes off your hoodie together with the work uniform underneath it. Your sports bra is black, and nicely molds itself to your breasts. He can see your perky nipples through the fabric at which his erection grows larger.
You pull him towards you by tugging on his tie. Very soon your bra ends up on the floor as well when Hiromi places himself above you. The way he cups his hands around your breasts, squeezing your nipples between his thumbs and index fingers, puts your dirty needs to another level.
“I’ve been waited for so long to feel them,” Hiromi whispers right before your face, a hair's length away from touching your lips. His voice is so quiet you have a problem hearing him. “You’re blushing,” he notices, making you look away and mutter an embarrassed “shatap”.
“Better hurry up and suck them,” you pout at him, you have hard time talking at this point, your throat dry and voice distorted by hoarseness.
Hiromi’s smirk gets bigger.
“It’s nice to know you want it as bad as I do,” he says before leaning over.
DING DONG.
Hiromi opens his eyes. At first he doesn’t even recognize his own apartment, the view from the couch is downright unrealistic. With his swollen eyes he looks for any sign of yours presence, because even if he knows you weren’t here, his mind doesn’t want to give up. Not yet. He can’t help it, his professional tendency to hope for the best and be ready for the worst speaks through him.
But the longer he stares at his empty apartment and the longer he can’t find any part of the clothes that he just took off of you, the more and more the disappointing reality seeps through his mind.
Ding dong…
Oh, right - the doorbell. He looks at the door, then at the bulge in his pants, sighing at the bitter unfinished business. What one pizza delivery girl can do to a man who doesn’t even like pizza…
He slowly gets up, massaging his sore nape that the couch header have gave him as he approaches the door. A doubtful thought on the back on his head whispers to him that he may see you behind it - with your high-tied ponytail, a hoodie and unearthly legs - and that his dream have been prelude to the main event.
Hiromi opens the door and sees the most average looking stranger.
Yeah, he thinks, taking the pizza and mumbling thanks, life isn’t that pretty, is it? He doesn't think about covering himself or even feel embarrassed about it. There’s just pure disappointed in his heart and an annoying tightness in his boxers.
He closes the door. What a shame it wasn’t you.
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there is a possibility that a second part will be written. thanks for reading!
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The Apothecary Diaries
S1E17 First Watch
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Here's where I watch The Apothecary Diaries for the first time and give my thoughts, analysis, predictions, and occasionally I stumble into a joke.
To start at the beginning:
Episode 1
My character/locations cheat sheet
Suiren - Jinshi's attendant
Lakan - master strategist
Basan - an officer who works in the palace
This episode opens with Jinshi asking Maomao for help with makeup, and Suiren decides that this is a great time to leave these two alone. Maomao believes that to make Jinshi any more beautiful would cause men to go to war.
Maomao: If this man in all his heavenly glory were to put on makeup... Are you trying to topple a nation?
Jinshi: Where'd that come from? On second thought, I would rather you don't tell me.
Is he? Not that he's trying to use his looks to do it, but it's an interesting thought. Is Jinshi interested in toppling a nation? Or perhaps dethroning an emperor? What an interesting thing to ponder. Also, is Jinshi worried that Maomao suspects him capable of insurgency?
Jinshi very much cannot afford to be found talking about toppling nations. I'm sure that the people in power who know who he really is, are already keeping an eye on him to see if he will make a play for the throne. Perhaps it is one of the reasons he was sent to manage the Rear Palace. If he makes a single misstep that could be seen as disloyal to the emperor, it would be enough to depose of Jinshi.
Ah! Jinshi wants some freckles! No, he wants to look like a completely different person. I'm sure he has a reason for wanting this disguise, but to Jinshi who has been the target of so much sexual harassment, being able to look common must feel like having a shield. He and Maomao can probably relate on this. Unlike Maomao, Jinshi can't do this regularly, his beauty is a tool that he is required to use. I also don't know that he would choose to change his appearance regularly. Even if he sees his beauty as a curse, I think he's comfortable enough with his appearance that he doesn't want to regularly alter it. Maomao does offer a more permeant solution, and Jinshi turns it down. His refusal could be because he needs his beauty as a tool, but I would guess that he doesn't want to change himself. All of that said, he's looking forward to this disguise that Maomao is going to prepare.
Maomao sees Jinshi first thing in the morning and is stunned by his beauty. She's annoyed at herself for being so affected by this man.
Jinshi: What's this? Why are you already wearing a scowl? Maomao: It's nothing. I was just noticing how lovely you are yet again. Jinshi: A little early for sarcasm.
Jinshi has tried to use his appearance on Maomao before, and it has failed every time. She's made it clear that she's not interested in him because of how he looks, so to get a comment like this one, he's sure she's teasing him. Which she is but she's also serious. It's interesting that Maomao is letting Jinshi know that she sees the physical appeal of him, when she never has before. And it's happening in an unguarded moment when Jinshi isn't trying to preen or seduce. I wonder why it's happening now. Perhaps it is just something that has been growing.
Maomao does something that disturbs everyone in the room for different reasons. She grabs Jinshi's wrist and sniffs him. Jinshi is blushing, the action a lascivious one to him. Suiren and Gaoshun interpret it the same way, but are shocked to witness it. Maomao explains that his disguise needs to start from his scent.
Jinshi ponders how well Maomao understands the world of the courtesan. He considers Lakan's suggestion to ask Maomao about how to lower a courtesan's value. Will he work up the nerve to ask? Jinshi isn't one to shy away from difficult conversations, however this is a loaded question. Asking it could reflect poorly on Jinshi. We shall see.
And does Maomao know anything about makeup? The gal was an apothecary that worked in a brothel. I'm sure she's an expert.
And she is. Her brilliance mixed with her experience means she's a master of disguise. She uses various methods to completely overhaul Jinshi's appearance, down to the most intimate details such as scent and sound of his voice. During Maomao's work to transform Jinshi, she takes time to admire various parts of Jinshi's body, such as the smoothness of his hair, the clarity of his skin, and the tone of his physique.
Jinshi is enjoying having Maomao's full attention on him and her hands all over his body, and he's going to think about this day every night before he goes to sleep. Maomao will probably also think about this day. It's a rather convenient excuse for both of them to enjoy some intimacy that they won't allow without the pretense. Meanwhile, Suiren can barely handle the multiple indignities that Jinshi has to endure to don this disguise.
Before Maomao commits to altering Jinshi's face, she can't resist putting some lipstick on him. Just to see. A little experiment if you will. One that now lives rent free in the minds of not only Maomao, but Gaoshun and Suiren too. I would give anything to see Jinshi in full glam in this show.
Nothing gets past Maomao and she finds the callouses on Jinshi's palms, surmising that he must train with weapons, which she notes is not a typical eunuch activity. Add that to the mountain of evidence that Jinshi is more than a eunuch official, that Maomao will promptly ignore.
Oh hell yeah! Suiren and Gaoshun are teaming up to send Maomao on a date with Jinshi. He couldn't possibly be seen with his usual companions, that would be too suspicious. Maomao points out the obvious, which is that she is also a well known attendant of Jinshi's. No problem, Maomao can be given a disguise too. And what Gaoshun couldn't? These two could not be more transparent. It's too bad that Maomao can't read this kind of obvious play when it relates to herself.
Maomao is dressed as a pretty young lady from a good family. And she is accompanied by Jinshi who is going out as her attendant. Jinshi loves this role reversal, and Maomao is teaching him how to play his part well. Who they are performing for isn't clear.
Basan is here, hanging back and watching Jinshi live out another one of his fantasies. Will Basan become jealous? One can only hope!
Jinshi is getting progressively more upset that Maomao is drifting in her own thoughts instead of chatting with him. He gets all pouty when Maomao says they have nothing to talk about. His fantasy date isn't going how he imagined it would.
Maomao picks up some meat skewers and after removing the cotton from his mouth Jinshi tucks in with fond memories from "camp." I'm assuming he's talking about time spent with the military. Maomao notes this isn't typical of a eunuch. I wonder what is even left on the list of things about Jinshi that resemble a eunuch.
Suiren and Gaoshun have a discussion about Jinshi and Maomao while they're out. They are pleased with themselves for setting up this outing, but Suiren is referring to Maomao as a toy, as Gaoshun used to. She talks about Jinshi as a boy and how he would fixate on one thing, and how Gaoshun would struggle to find something else to shift his attention. Gaoshun thinks that Jinshi can't afford to be so focused on Maomao. Maybe he's worried about how Maomao makes Jinshi more susceptible to manipulation from people like Lakan. Or maybe he means that with Jinshi's status, that it can't be allowed.
I've come to realize that this show is going to be much, much longer than the single season I'm on. The progress of this romance is like the slowest slow burn. Jinshi and Maomao have been stuck at an impasse for ages. Whenever they do make progress it's in the smallest increment possible that takes more brain power than I have to process and tease out. But I've digressed.
Basan looks like he's starting to enjoy this assignment now that he's picked up some meat skewers, and he can now enjoy both a juicy meal and the juicy conversation he's overhearing.
Jinshi is hurt that Maomao seems to want to get away from him as soon as possible. He asks her very earnestly if she enjoys her life in the palace. She really does, but she is worried about her father.
Maomao reveals more about her father Luomen. I think Jinshi is starting to put some pieces together about what position Luomen might have held. He'll need those clues when he gets closer to figuring out Maomao's true identity.
And it is good to see Maomao open up a little bit. She so rarely talks to Jinshi or anyone about her past, her hopes or her fears. That she does so here, with Jinshi is a step towards friendship.
Maomao sees the restaurant that Jinshi has an appointment at and notices all the ladies hanging over the men outside. She says she could have taken Jinshi to some place in the Pleasure District if this was what he was interested in. She sounds disappointed in Jinshi, or maybe she is disappointed in herself for the jealousy she feels. That she both thinks Jinshi is a eunuch and that he want to visit a courtesan is... interesting. Not that I don't think a eunuch couldn't have fun at a brothel, mind you, but still, her ability to misread a situation is always interesting. I'm confident that Jinshi is not here to meet up with someone for the reasons Maomao thinks. He may be here to meet a courtesan, but if he is, than it is to gather intel.
Honestly I'd support Jinshi if he were here for a hook up. He's committed to no one at this point, and at this rate he'll hook up with Maomao by about the time he is old enough to functionally be a eunuch, so have at it. Go wild Jinshi.
Jinshi finally gets up the courage to ask a terrible question: how to reduce the value of a courtesan. Maomao answers as I expected, you either take her purity or worse yet, you impregnant her. I'm gonna be sick. Lakan is so terrible. Just why is Jinshi so interested in this topic? Is this all to find dirt on Lakan? Does Jinshi suspect Maomao's origins are from the courtesan that Lakan "decreased the value of?" Does Jinshi have his own motives for wanting to decrease the value of a courtesan?
Jinshi is stunned, or perhaps horrified to realize what it might take to lower the value of a courtesan. It's a surreal conversation between these two. Maomao has to wonder why Jinshi is even asking the question. I can't think that she would believe Jinshi wants to use this method to decrease the value of a courtesan, but perhaps she thinks he might be interested in purchasing someone's contract? I don't know what Jinshi hopes to do with the info. Is this something he hopes to figure out to help him against Lakan? If he was hoping the answer would help him find a way to help Maomao, he now knows it's a method that he won't be willing to use. I really can't see him trying to take her purity or impregnate her. If those things were ever going to happen, he would want them to be out of mutual affection, which is still lightyears away.
I kept expecting this outing to be fun, and parts of it are, but there is so much that is undefined and unsaid between these two that there is an unsteady tension throughout the whole outing. Ultimately, the date fails to change any of it. Maomao does open up a bit about her father which is amazing. We so rarely see her talk about her life or her hopes or goals. Jinshi listens intently. And that is kind of the highlight of the day to me.
Obviously the final conversation about how to reduce the cost of a courtesan is important too. But without seeing the end of that conversation I can only guess what impact a question like that might have on these two's relationship. Because the implications of even asking the question aren't great, and I don't know where Maomao's mind is. What does she think Jinshi capable of? I tend to think she knows and trusts Jinshi pretty well, but when there is emotion involved her judgement gets all screwy.
And we haven't yet learned what Jinshi is up to. He wanted to come here in disguise for a reason. I assume he is trying to get information to help him against Lakan. At least, I hope that's what he's up to. Lakan is bad news.
To start at the beginning: Episode 1
Next Episode:
Episode 18
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stevenose · 1 month
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rocks off (18+)
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contains: steve x reader; reader with a vagina + breasts; no gendered language used for reader; idk what their dynamic is they be fucking tho; stressed out and in need of an epic handjob!steve; praise (steve receiving); perv!reader; cumming inside 😳
a/n: this is a lot longer than originally anticipated - i hope you enjoy!!
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The air shifts the moment Steve’s car is thrown into park outside. You can feel irritation radiating off of him already - though maybe it’s just the knowledge that he worked a double, and he’s just getting home at ten in the evening.
You frown at the door, brows creasing when he finally gets inside. He doesn’t look at you at first - doesn’t seem to notice while he’s singing under his breath, kicking his Nikes off and ripping his vest from his chest.
“Bad day?”
Now he looks, glaring at you under thick brows. He sighs and runs a big, tired hand over his exhausted, pretty face. “The worst.”
“How come?”
“Because,” he starts, eyes diverting from you again to put his shoes in their place, “I had to kick middle schoolers out of the porn section, I totally got turned down by one of our hot regulars, and I had to work with Keith for the last three hours.”
You hum, watching him walk towards the couch, collapsing on it. He sighs and lets his head fall back, the pretty crown of hair cascading backwards. His pretty neck is ripe for the taking, unmarked by your lips.
“What can I do for you?”
He waves a hand, nostrils flaring with his exhale. “Just need to relax.”
You hum again, watching him intently, seeing if he’ll get the hint. His pretty brown eyes are half lidded as he watches whatever is on the television. You lick your lips.
Steve glances over at you. “What?”
“I can help with that,” you say softly.
He smiles lazily. “You gonna knock me out or somethin’ so I can sleep for once?”
For the horniest guy you know, he sure doesn’t get hints. “I was thinking more, like, making you feel good?”
Chestnut eyes widen. He licks his pink lips, tongue running over his stubble. “What would that entail?” he asks.
You bite your lip, eyes drifting downwards towards his jeans, and then back up. “Could help you cum if you want,” you whisper.
You watch his chest rise and fall. “And how would you do that?”
“Must be so tired. Bet jacking off would make you feel better, huh?“
You hear his breath hitch, watch his cheeks grow red. “Uh-huh,” he says softly.
“And you shouldn’t have to jerk off that heavy cock by yourself. Right?”
He takes a moment to find his words. “Right.”
You smile at him, crawling down the couch towards him. You prop your thighs on either side of his, straddling him. His hands come up delicately to hold your hips, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows anxiously.
“Let me take care of you,” you whisper.
Steve nods, looks at you like you’re the creator of the universe. Eyes sparkly, features tired. His thumbs rub over your hipbones, just barely obscured behind a pair of boxers.
“Can you take your cock out for me?”
He nods again, eager to please. His big hands leave your body to free himself. You sit up, giving him room to push his jeans and underwear down to his knees. Then you seat yourself back onto his hairy thighs, eyes fixating on his cock.
You’ve seen it before but it never fails to disappoint. So thick and long and you’re so sure it would be impossible to impale yourself on. Curves upwards, has a few pretty freckles on it, tip as pink as his lips. He’s only half hard and you’re still a little breathless over it.
You run your fingertips up the underside of Steve’s cock, along a vein that protrudes from his tanned skin. He sighs, hands finding their way back to your hips.
“So soft,” you moan quietly, wrapping your hand around his shaft and pumping a few times, watching him get harder. “Do you usually use spit or lube?”
Steve sort of chokes, eyes widening. “Uh - um - i-it depends.”
You wonder why he’s so anxious. You know he fucks. You can hear it through the thin walls of your apartment - you’ve touched yourself to the sound of it. It makes you feel important, him below you with flushed cheeks and golden eyes.
“Spit okay for now?”
He nods. Watches with wide-eyed wonder as you bring your hand up to your mouth, spitting into your palm, then bringing it back down towards his dick. The moment you wrap around him he gasps, a long moan finding its way out of his soft lips.
“Feels good?” you ask softly.
“Mhm.” He moans it out tightly, the muscles in his neck straining.
“Yeah? Good boy,” you coo.
Steve’s cock twitches in your hand. Your grip is firm, no teasing, as much as you’d like to wait until he’s begging and crying for something from you. His breath hitches again as his dark brows knit together.
“Have such a big cock, Steve,” you purr. “Probably why you get turned down, honey. Too big to take.”
Steve sighs, his eyes fluttering shut, his cock leaking significantly.
“Mhm,” you continue, “bet it’s got so much cum to give too, huh?”
“Oh my god,” he groans, his grip on your hips tightening. “Y-yeah, it does.”
You bite your tongue, but you say what you’re thinking anyway. “Where do you like to cum, Steve?”
“Inside,” he pants, face growing redder.
Your stomach flips. “Yeah?”
“Uh-huh.” He sounds so fucked out and it’s been two minutes.
“Anyone ever let you?”
He shakes his head. “Just - in a condom.”
You pout. “That’s not fair. Pretty cock like this shouldn’t be in a condom, Stevie.”
He’s panting, sweat glistening on his forehead. You watch him swallow hard. He’s speechless, doesn’t know how to react, but his cock certainly does. It pulses in your grip and you sigh dreamily, pulling away from him to stand.
“Where you goin’?” he asks, heartbroken.
You simply pull your boxers off before seating yourself back on him. Steve’s eyes drift downwards, and even if he can’t see much, he groans softly.
“Wanna see my tits?”
“Oh, please,” he whispers.
You throw your shirt off, too, naked on his lap now. Hand still stroking him in a steady rhythm. His hips rock into your palm as his eyes bore a hole into your chest.
“You can touch,” you goad.
His hands are so warm. You sigh as his fingers find your nipples, pinching them softly. And while he’s distracted, you move forward a bit, lift your hips, and bring the tip of his cock to your pussy.
Steve gasps just as you moan. His hands are back on your hips lightning fast, mouth hanging open. You rub his cock against your clit, your own mouth dropping with pleasure.
“H-holy sh-shit,” he breathes, hips bucking upwards involuntarily. His cock catches on your clit again and you sigh, arching your back, placing your free hand on the couch behind him for support.
“How long’s it been since you’ve touched a pussy raw?” you moan.
Steve whimpers. “I - I’ve never….”
“Should I stop?”
“No,” he whimpers, hips rocking. “Keep going, please?”
“Does it feel good?” His cock glides through your folds now, coating him in your cream. He doesn’t know where to look, but right now he’s fixated on where you both meet. “Bet it does. Feels so good for me.”
You spit on your palm again and take him back into your fist, jerking him off but letting the tip of him rub against your clit.
“And you’re good for me, Steve.” You lean forward, resting your forehead against his. He looks at you with adoration, eyes warm, honey-like. “Fuck, I want your cum. Can I have it?”
“Jesus Christ,” he moans, brows furrowing again. “Take it, need you to take it.”
“Want you to make a mess of my pussy, Stevie.” Your lips just barely brush against his. You ramp up the theatrics, moaning more, biting your lip and grinding your hips. “Wanna be the first person that feels your cum… want it so bad… wanna be a little stress toy for you.”
“Oh -!” He’s so turned on he can’t even finish his sentence. His face twists, panting, legs shaking under you.
And then - against your own better judgement - you bring the tip of his cock to your entrance. You’re entirely too tight for him but you still sink down just enough, enough to get half of the head of him inside. Steve nearly shouts, planting his feet and arching his back, his cock nestling a bit further inside. You hiss, but never stop jerking him off.
“Cum inside me,” you whine.
“Holy fuck,” he gasps. He has such a beautiful blush spreading down his broad chest. “Are - are you serious?”
You nod fervently. “‘s okay, ‘m on the pill, wanna feel you.”
Steve looks at you like you’re insane - because you are - but he never once attempts to stop you. In fact, his hips jut up a little further, burying the head of his cock inside of you deeper. The seal is almost certainly air-tight and your stomach flutters in delight.
“Be a good boy,” you purr. “Be such a good boy and cum for me, please Steve? Fuck, you’re so goddamn hot, honey. Don’t want anyone else having you like this.”
He nods, muscles tensing.
You clench around him and with one final stroke he cums. His hands grip the fat of your hips harshly - enough to bruise - and you have to follow his hips upwards to stop him from splitting you open.
“Good baby such a good boy Steve so fucking hot,” you babble, cunt pulsing. His cum spreads through you, hot and thick and it’s so goddamn much. Must’ve been backed up, hasn’t cum in a while. Really needed this.
You breathe against each other’s mouths as he comes down from his high, hands still clenching your sides. Steve doesn’t seem to want to let you go. Actually, it seems like he would love nothing more than to plant his feet and fuck his bad day right into your cunt. But he lets you lift off after a minute, watches with hooded eyes as his cum slowly drips out of you.
“That good for you?” you ask, pushing his hair back away from his sweaty face.
Steve swallows hard, nodding. “Really good.”
“Feeling better?”
He nods again. You can see his brain is trying to turn on again and you smile, kissing his forehead.
“Glad I could help.”
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loveshotzz · 2 months
Text
I guess it’s never really over
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mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers
chapter one -
Late arrivals and big asks
A broken down car, a party at Reefer Rick’s, and a bandaid that needs to be ripped off.
warnings: 18+ drinking, smoking, lots of tension, some king!steve angst in the form of a flashback.
wc: 10.1k
series masterlist | series playlist
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June - 
The air is sticky, thick with the kind of humidity only Indiana could have at 9:30 pm. An annoyed breath expands into your lungs as you lean against your car that refuses to do anything but sputter. Despite your irritation, your glossed lips twitch with the nostalgia that creeps into your heart because after all these years it still smells the same.
Crossing your arms, your eyes trail over the clear night sky not polluted with the kind of man-made smog that blankets the city and the stars shimmer like diamonds in its absence. The warmth of the overrun engine is still hot on your exposed calves, the light breeze making the bottom of your sundress dance across the tops of your thighs. White beams emerge, cutting through the dark at the top of the hill, followed by the roar only a tow truck can make, and this time, the smile you fought off before spreads wide across your face.
Robin.
Butterflies wake up in a frenzy deep in your gut, with nerves that twitch from your fingertips at the thought of finally getting to hug your best friend after months apart. You push off the side of your car as the truck approaches, eyes squinting to make out the second outline in the front cabin as it pulls over. You recognize the messy mane of hair that could only belong to Eddie Munson in the driver seat almost instantly and his dimple filled smile brings you back to memories you thought you’d long forgotten. 
“Well, well, well, would you look at what the cat dragged in!” Robin sticks her head out of the window with a wide grin as the big tires slow to a stop in front of your car, “are my eyes deceiving me or is my best friend in the entire world actually in Hawkins, Indiana right now?” 
The rasp in her voice sounds just like it does over the phone and despite the roll of your eyes, your cheeks hurt from how happy you are.
“Shut up, don’t act like you didn’t guilt me out here by saying the fate of your future depends on it.” Uncrossing your arms, you open them wide, “I made the ultimate sacrifice for you, so are you gonna hug me or not?”
Dramatic? Yes. But it works like a charm when she flings open the passenger door and charges at you in a mess of honey blond waves and freckles, almost tackling you with the force of her impact wrapping her arms around you.
Too distracted by Robin, you almost don’t notice the creak of the driver's side door or the filled out frame of the man that used to be a lanky teenage boy walking past as Eddie starts to attach your car to his truck. He’s taller than you remembered even bending down, and despite the navy blue coveralls, you can still see that his pale skin is littered with even more tattoos.
“I can’t believe my guilt trip worked!” Robin beams, finally letting you go, her whole body practically vibrating with excitement as she claps her ring clad hands together.
“I really can’t believe it either,” you laugh nervously, the reality of what it means to come back starting to set in after seeing just one familiar face, but this isn’t high school anymore and you’re definitely not the same person you were five years ago either.
“Thanks so much, Eddie,” you break the ice when he stands back up, and the sound of your voice has his big brown eyes warmed with gold light up just like his face when he turns his full attention onto you. Scruff filled dimples poking even bigger holes in his cheeks.
“It’s my pleasure, sweetheart, I almost didn’t believe Robin when she called me. I thought it was a prank.” He beckons you over with open arms, “now that I know it’s not, you have exactly 10 seconds to get over here and hug me before I change my mind.”
There’s zero hesitation about giving into his ‘demand’ and when your arms wrap around his waist, you’re brought back to afternoons in the woods behind the school with heavy lidded eyes and lopsided grins. 
“Your own auto shop, huh?” You smile up at him, pulling away, “Eddie Munson, the business owner.”
He rolls his eyes but the pink tint that colors in his cheeks tells you he appreciates the praise.
“Yeah, something like that.” He chuckles, “Got a soft spot for that old man in the trailer park, couldn’t bring myself to leave.”
Your heart warms at the fondness that drips from his ton. 
“Okay, as sweet as this little reunion is. You’re late, and we have a party to get to.” Robin interrupts snatching your keys out of your hand, dropping them in Eddie’s.
“A party?” You snap confused, and Eddie takes that as his queue to walk away with a knowing smirk.
“Yes, this is the summer of fun and reckless abandon, this is the last summer of our youth before we have to be adults. Do you understand me?” Her fingers are digging into your shoulders by the end of her rant, with the kind of look in her eyes that you’re absolutely going to have to revisit after a few weeks. 
“This is the part where I remind you that I graduated college last year.” 
Your best friend scoffs at you.
“Just humor me, okay? It’s your grand homecoming.” She pushes out her bottom lip, and makes her eyes big in a way she knows you can’t say no to.
“Fine.” You huff, making her finally let you go with the kind of pleased smirk that tells you she never thought she was going to lose to begin with.
“Great, it’s time to rip the bandaid off anyway.” Robin practically mumbles the last part turning on her heel to head back to the truck.
It takes a minute for her words to stick to your ears and their meaning to ring loud through your head, but when they do it feels like the air is stolen from your lungs. 
“Rip what bandaid off, Robin?!” 
It’s his name tightens in your chest but you refuse to say it, even after all this time it burns coming back up. 
“Since you had to drive for so long, I’ll sit in the middle because I’m just that good of a friend, you know?” She winks with a shit eating grin before pulling herself up and disappearing inside the cab of the truck, ignoring your question, like she’s not asking you to do the one thing you said you’d never do. 
See Steve Harrington again.
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I tell myself, ‘draw the line.’
You wonder if Robin can feel the daggers you’re glaring into the back of her head as the two of you walk up the driveway to Rick’s house. Gravel crunching hard under your converse as you keep up with her black combat boots. She looks effortlessly cool in her high waisted jean shorts, and her oversized army green jacket covered in patches. You’d compliment her if you weren’t so mad.
“I can’t believe you guys still have parties here.” You scoff, making your sour attitude known, but your best friend ignores it with ease.
“I can’t believe you forgot to have fun. Don’t you live in the city?” Turning around with a smirk, she can’t help but laugh at the look on your face. 
She stops abruptly, almost making you run into her leaving you both just close enough to the party to hear the bass of the music spilling through the cracks in the windows. The low chatter of people echoes through the trees that surround you and bounce off the lake not that far away. The thought of hearing the calm baritone of his voice mixed in makes your chest tight with the kind of nerves that dare you to high tail it and run.
“It’s been five years.” Robin’s playful demeanor breaks and becomes pleading with a kind of desperation you’ve never seen from her before. “He’s not the person you knew in high school, I need you to understand that. You think I’d call someone like that my best friend?”
“Hey!-“ You object at the title, and it makes her lips twitch despite serious lines that crease her face.
“Stop, you know what I mean,” her painted fingers grab onto yours, squeezing them lightly, “please, just give him a chance. I’m not asking you to get back together or even be friends, just get along enough not to kill each other this summer. I can’t choose between you. I won’t.”
The genuine love she has for Steve is apparent in the way her ocean blue eyes threaten to drown you in their sincerity, and you can’t find it in yourself to say no to her. 
“Fine.” You accept your defeat in practically a whisper, but it makes your best friend squeal nonetheless. The giddiness from before coming back tenfold as she links arms with you, continuing your way up to the house. 
It’s just a summer, right?
The crowd gets bigger as more people start to come into view, between groups smoking cigarettes outside, couples arguing by cars, others making out against them. The smell of beer gets more pungent with each step, the atmosphere a stark contrast to the way the moon glows against the peaceful waters behind the madness of the house. 
Salt N Pepa’s ‘Push It’ plays loud enough for you to make out the words when you reach the front steps, walking through clouds of tobacco smoke to get to the unlocked door. The interior hasn’t changed at all since high school, the smell of stale lime and tequila stinging your nose. The bass of the music vibrates under your shoes as Robin unlinks her arms and you have to fight the urge to yank her back.
“Drinks or …Steve first?” She asks, her nerves about the situation finally showing themselves as she bites at her thumbnail. 
“Absolutely drinks! Is that a trick question?” You half whisper, half yell, looking around as if saying his name out loud might summon him.
“Okay! Okay!” Robin hisses, grabbing your wrist, leading you towards the familiar path to Rick’s kitchen.
Suddenly you wonder what your makeup looks like after a long day of traveling in your car, your fingers tugging at the bottom of your dress before adjusting the front of it so it sits just right. You itch to grab your lip gloss that’s tucked into the side of your bra, but you don’t want to deal with the look you’d get if you went for it.
Rounding the corner to the living room, your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach before you even have a chance to stop it when your eyes meet that messy head of chestnut hair, and a pair of hot pink nails tangled inside it. 
“Oh - I - god dammit.” Robin groans, when you're met with number two on your list, making out with a pretty blond on the couch.
Despite the years and distance, there’s still a sting that you feel in the corners of your eyes. It’s not enough for any tears to fall, there’s none left for him anymore, but it’s enough for the anger you’ve clung to since the day he broke your heart to boil hot under your skin. It singes the wings of the butterflies that try to take flight when you see the way his frame has filled out, how he’s somehow grown more handsome than the last time you saw him. 
Robin coughs, squeezing your wrist in reassurance.
“Hey, - uh, Steve.” The sound of his name catches his attention, long brown lashes fluttering open to reveal the deep coffee of his eyes that widen when they lock with yours for the first time in years. 
His lips pull from the blond’s with a loud smack, leaving a small trail of glitter on the side of his mouth that he tries to wipe away quickly with his wrist. Black ink you’ve never seen before looks bold on his tanned skin that glows like it’s been freshly kissed by the sun. 
His gaze wanders up and down your body like he’s unsure you’re actually real, and if it wasn’t for the obvious shock of your arrival and the way the color seems to drain from his face, you’d snap at him for the way it lingers over your curves. 
“Um, Robin, what the fuck?” The sound of his voice makes your heart skip a beat, and again when his hand drags through his hair just how you remembered.
“Surprise?” She shrugs, wincing when he scoffs loudly and the warmth that went missing floods his cheeks, turning them bright red. The blond next to him eyes you up while she clutches harder to his waist, and you can’t stop the rise of your brows and the giggle that bubbles past your lips because of it.
Steve’s head snaps towards you, something softening the moss that hides in his eyes when he hears the noise despite the sarcasm that drips from it, and you really get to look at him for the first time since high school graduation. 
God, you wish you could’ve had that drink. 
The jawline that always drove you mad is sharper, peppered with the kind of hardly there stubble that tells you he’s only missed one shaving day. A problem he never used to have, and somehow, it makes him all that much more attractive. 
His hair is a little messier than his carefully crafted look that used to take him a good forty five minutes every morning. It curls wildly at the ends now, tucking behind his ears and fanning along the nape of his freckled neck. It still looks as soft as you remember, though. 
His shoulders are broader, stretching the white cotton of his shirt tight enough across his chest that you can see the outline of a thick patch of hair that had only just started growing when you knew him last. The dark wash of his jeans makes them look almost black, fitting snug over his thighs, cuffed at the bottoms framing the tops of his boots.
Why couldn’t Steve Harrington just peak in high school like he was supposed to?
“So yeah, this is awkward.” Your best friend laughs nervously, “We’re going to get a drink or three because this scenario is by far the worst case and not the way this was supposed to go in my head, but anyway, look who’s here for the summer! We’ll talk later!“ 
Robin grabs your wrist before Steve can respond, pulling you back into the party and away from your ex-boyfriend while the realization of the summer you’ve foolishly agreed to hits you all at once. It turns your body weightless as the two of you weave in and out of the crowd. It tightens in your chest, the music turning muffled hitting your ear drums. Suddenly, you're not the woman who crossed state lines to the one place she said she’d never come back to, happily living the lie that you’d actually forgotten about him to be a good friend.
You’re the girl who let him keep you a secret, and you hate him for it.
Sneakers hit the sticky tile floor that hasn’t changed since 1984, the harsh lighting of the kitchen makes you both squint. It’s calmer than the rest of the house, just a few groups lingering off in the corners, too deep in conversation to care about you and Robin. Letting go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your ears start to pop too, Eddie Money’s Take Me Home Tonight coming through crystal clear.
“The band-aid might have been violently ripped off, but hey, it’s ripped off nonetheless.” Robin shrugs, finding the half-drunk bottle of tequila on the counter. “I think we should count this as a win and take a shot to celebrate.”
“A win?! Are you kidding me?!” You hiss, completely bewildered.
“Yes a win - oh no.” Her blue eyes go wide at whatever’s behind you, but it doesn’t take you long to figure out when that familiar spice and cedar of his cologne hits your nose.
“Right so, who’s going to let me know what’s going on?”
His voice comes out close enough to send your lashes fluttering, mimicking your heart. The nerves you’d just gotten over threaten to come back tenfold, but you manage to swallow them down just like in high school, turning around.
“I think it’s obvious what’s going on, Steve,”
It’s not as hard to say his name as you thought it would be, but it is hard to stare at his face from this close. Specifically, the two moles that dot his cheek that you always used to kiss, or the ones on his neck that you hate still taunt you for more. 
“I’m here for the summer.”
Steve Harrington had thought about this moment a lot, but Rick’s house was never the backdrop for it. His eyes take in the features you’ve not only grown into but somehow are even more beautiful than he remembers. Even if they’re twisted in a glare. 
“I meant, why didn’t I know until right now?” He manages to get out with a shake of his head narrowing his eyes at Robin, who’s too busy trying to find clean shot glasses to notice.
“Why would you need to know?” You snap, making a nervous hand card through his hair
“Cause I’ve, uh,  you know, I’ve asked about you a few times,” the last part comes out a little harsher, clearly directed at your best friend, who you know is actively ignoring you both now.
“Why? Why would you need to know anything about me?” Your hostility still shocks him even though he was expecting it. His eyebrows shoot up just like his hands in surrender. “Why didn’t you tell me, Robin?”
She groans loudly, slamming the tequila bottle down on the counter before turning around.
“You said you didn’t want to hear anything about him after you moved, why would I tell you he was asking about you?”
“Wait -“ Steve butts in this time, “seriously?”
“Oh my god, can you two shut the fuck up for a second and take these shots? You’re really putting a damper on the beginning of the best summer of our lives,” Robin snaps before waving a hand in front of three freshly poured shots.
It’s a struggle to tear your eyes from him, your body responding to his presence in a way that feels like it’s turning against you. It has you downing your shot in one quick motion before anyone else can even touch theirs. 
“Wow, okay.” Robin deadpans before shaking her head, wasting no time in following your lead.
“So we’re not cheersing anymore? Isn’t that bad luck?” Steve mutters, shoulder brushing against yours as he leans forward to grab his shot, the slightest touch enough to engulf your skin into flames.
A whole summer? Fuck.
“Robin, pour another one.” You rush with pinched brows as you try to move past the bitter sting of the alcohol going down your throat, taking a step toward her and away from him, you add “and we’ll cheers.”
You refuse to meet his gaze when you say it, but you can feel the intensity of it on the side of your face, begging you to break.
“Rob’s, how are you guys getting home?” Steve finally breaks, giving up his quiet fight for now, and you hate the way his nickname for her softens your heart.
“Huh, that’s a good question, I hadn’t thought that far yet.” She admits, over pouring so tequila splashes against the countertop, looking up at him with a mischievous grin.
“Seriously–
“RECKLESS ABANDON STEVEY!” Cutting him off, she downs her shot in his disapproving face.
“You didn’t cheers again.” Steve sighs, hands finding his hips as you whine an irritated, “We needed to cheers!” At the same time.
Your eyes meet his finally, his knowing smirk twisting the corners of your lips despite yourself. You blame the tequila starting to warm the blood in your veins.
“Well, you need to take yours then if we’re doing another one ‘the proper’ way, or it’s not going to be even.” Robin points at your drink in a silent challenge. 
You know how this game works.
“Fine.” You shrug, downing it with more ease than the last one.
“Oh my god. Stop! Do not pour another one before you answer my question, please!” Steve sounds exasperated, grabbing the bottle from her before she can disobey, “How are you getting home?” 
You try not to focus on how much larger his already big hands are now, or how small the bottle looks wrapped up in his palm compared to your best friends. The second shot takes the edge off your nerves in a way that your shoulders relax. Leaning against the counter, you cross your arms, watching the two of them bicker, catching Steve’s wandering gaze on your exposed legs while he tries his best to keep his focus on Robin. It boosts your ego in a way that has the anger hiding just under the surface go from a boil to a slow simmer.
“I don’t know Harrington, do you know anybody with a car?” She wiggles two thick brows at him, the second shot making her blue eyes glassy, and her smile a little more goofy.
“Why’d I know you were going to say that? And why did I know you were going to do this?” Steve sighs, letting her snatch the bottle out of his hand.
“What? Bring her to the party?” Robin snorts pointing a thumb in your direction, making you gasp.
“Robin!”
“No! What? No. But don’t think,” Steve clears his throat looking at you awkwardly before finishing a little quieter, “don’t think we’re not going to talk about this later.”
“I can still hear you.” You remind him with a sarcastic smirk.
“Yeah, I know you can. Look, I’ll DD for you because obviously tonight is, uhh,” he gestures to you with cheeks that grow pinker by the second, “a big deal. But you gotta stop doing this to me, I need you to get your license you’re out of colleg-”
“Shots! Steve’s driving us home!” Robin whoops loudly, and an irritated Steve pinches the bridge of his nose before walking away. 
Your eyes follow him out the door, shoulder blades flexing under cotton when he runs another hand through his hair before disappearing from sight. You try to push down the small pang of jealousy that makes a familiar home inside your chest remembering the blond girl waiting for him on the couch.
“Okay, okay,” Robin interrupts your inner struggle at the perfect time, sliding an overflowing shot over to you with a giggle that's contagious and it banishes Steve from your mind just like magic. “I’m not going to forget this time, promise.”
“I don’t think I can afford for you to forget again,” you smirk, raising your glass, tequila spilling over the tops of your fingers, “cheers!”
“Cheers!” 
You both down them at the same speed, slamming the empty glasses back onto the countertop with laughter that bounces off the walls and threatens to drown out the music. And for a second you think maybe you can actually do this.
“I’m so happy you’re here!” She squeals, throwing her arms around your neck, doing a terrible job of holding her weight up. Grabbing onto her waist, you do your best to steady her, “Look I just want to say while he’s gone, I know this isn’t easy for you, okay? I know.”
She hiccups before pulling away slightly to look at you as she finishes,“But It means so much to me, and I just wanna say I’m proud of you. I mean, who knows, you’ve changed, he’s changed-”
“Nope, no, you’re done. Where’s the weed? I wanna smoke some weed.” You push Robin away, rolling your eyes at the loud laugh your reaction gets from her.
There’s a long summer ahead of you, but right now, all you need is to find a joint and try not to think about your ex in the next room.
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With a few more shots and a couple of hits from a blunt you and Robin you’d stumbled upon being passed amongst a group outside, you start to really feel like you’re back home. Nostalgia hits you hard in the gut as you walk through the crowded living room hand in hand with your best friend, giggling and stumbling back to the kitchen on the hunt for some food. 
“God, I’m so hungry!” Robin practically growls when you hit the harsh lighting again making you both hiss.
An empty bottle of tequila sits on the counter now and red solo cups litter the floor that weren’t there before, and a growing pile of bitten into limes cover the counters in a sticky mess. Alone and left to your own devices Robin begins to raid the cupboards, huffing when she finds nothing behind every door she aggressively yanks open.
“Why is his kitchen always so empty? Like? Do we just always miss the party?” You hiccup, tripping on a tile that’s coming out of the grout. 
You catch yourself on the kitchen island in front of you, a loud laugh bubbling up from your chest, too drunk to focus on how gross the formica feels under your fingertips.
“There’s literally nothing to eat in here, not even like an old bag of stale chips.” She opens the first cabinet one last time before slamming it shut, officially giving up with a thump of her forehead against the wood. “This is why he’s always at the diner.”
“Wait, Rick actually lives here still?” Another hiccup, you foolishly lean your elbows on the counter, something you’ll regret in the morning as you stare at your best friend with a toothy smile, completely unaffected by the news about the missing food that seems to be ruining her entire mood.
“How can he sell weed and not have any food in his house? What happens when he gets the munchies?!” She throws her hands up, ignoring your question and answering it all at the same time. “I’m gonna find a bathroom, and then we’re gonna find Steve - don’t make that face, he’ll take us through a drive-thru.”
“Don’t be gone long, I don’t know anyone here!” You whine with a childish drunk stomp of your foot, still sporting that sour look she told you to wipe off. The carefree girl from moments before now gone in the blink of an eye.
“Literally like five minutes, I swear!” She promises, turning around with a smirk as she crosses her heart with a ring covered finger like you used to do as kids, easily earning the smile from you she was hoping for.
You watch her disappear into the party, staring after bouncing honey waves until they’re out of your sight. 
Suddenly alone for the first time in hours, the kitchen feels quiet. The bass of the music is distant, and your thoughts are heavy just like your feet as your last shot of tequila settles with the rest. Your brain wanders to places that you thought you’d banished from the corners of your mind for years. It takes you to the pink fullness of his lips, and has you biting the bottom of yours. Then it’s the freckles that dot the bridge of his nose and explode across his cheeks, even leaving their mark on the bottom of his earlobe.
You’d found that one the night you’d tried to count them all. You never finished.
Then you remember the blond on the couch, and how her pink nails dug into the thick chestnut of his hair that you used to tug on when his kisses got to be too much. She turns into Nancy Wheeler and those stolen looks in the hallways at school, and suddenly, you hate him all over again.
“Jesus, you’re in here alone? Where’s Robin?” Steve’s voice makes you jump at the worst possible time, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scar-“
“Seriously?!” You snap, turning around with crossed arms. Leaning against the counter, you hope that you don’t seem as drunk as you are, but the way his lips twitch regardless of your attitude tells you that it’s not working. “She went to the bathroom and then was going to look for you.”
“So, it just makes sense for me to hang out here then, right?”Steve raises his hands in a silent plea for permission. 
His big boots take heavy steps towards you, and just like on cue, has your body betraying you. The plush dough of your thighs pressing harder together each time he gets closer to closing the gap. 
Cautiously taking the spot a few feet away from you, he keeps his hands up till he feels safe enough to shove them in his pockets. The spice of his cologne smells fresh, and you wonder if he sprayed it before walking in here. It overpowers everything else around you, invading your senses and committing itself to memory despite you.
“I um, I really hope this is okay to say,” he stammers watching the way one of your eyebrows arches up, and it doesn’t take long for his hand to escape from his pocket to run through his hair again, “but it’s, it’s good to see you. I m-missed you, Robin’s missed you.”
“Shouldn’t you be hanging out with your girlfriend?” You ignore him and tuck his words away to unpack another time with a sober mind.
“Cassie? She’s not my girlfriend.” He answers without any hesitation, something sparking alive inside the gold of his eyes that has one side of his mouth tugging up. 
“Does she know that?” 
“I’m pretty sure she does considering she left with another guy not that long ago.” He snorts, the confidence you’ve always known him to have finding its way back, and you don’t miss the way he scoots closer. 
So you scoot back.
“Sucks to suck, Harrington.” You sigh, impressed with how well you’re playing off the victory lap you’re shamefully running in your head at the new information.
“There you are!” Robin rushes in, face flushed and out of breath, interrupting the moment you weren’t ready to have yet at the perfect time “Somehow I got roped into like a keg stand and I think it’s really time for us to go home guys.”
“Robin!” 
“What?!”
She tries to shush you, but even you can see from across the room the way sweat starts to bead across her forehead, the blush in her cheeks going pale before she runs to the trash can. Steve pushes off the island without any hesitation, rushing to the other side of the kitchen, gathering her hair in his hands to hold it back.
“What were you thinking?” Steve scolds her in the softest way possible, rubbing her back as all the beer finds its way out of her body.  
Those big eyes of his that you’re sure are going to haunt your dreams meet yours, and in that moment the room decides it wants to spin. You’re not sure if it’s the night of tequila with nothing but a weed chaser catching up to you or if it’s the onslaught of feelings you’ve successfully suppressed for the last five years coming back to seek their revenge. The deadly combination of both comes to a head the more you watch the gentle way Steve handles Robin and it makes you realize it’s time to go.
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You manage to pull yourself together enough to help Steve get Robin in his car, heart almost stopping when you walk up to the same Maroon BMW he took your virginity in. It takes everything inside of you not to abort the mission, run to Robin’s apartment by figuring your way through the woods you used to play in, do anything but sit in those leather seats. But your best friend’s drunk rambles of how happy she is to have her ‘two amigos and how that it makes three now’ while professing her undying love for both of you has you putting on a brave face, and then your big girl pants when you have to sit in the front seat next to him.
It’s in perfect condition, just like the morning he pulled into the parking lot Junior year with it. Your stomach twists in the kind of knots that have you wrapping your arms around your waist. The smell of leather and pine pulling on the back of your throat, and all the memories that come with it. He keeps the radio low, and you can hardly make out the faint sounds of whatever late night talk show was on over the soft snores of a passed out Robin in the backseat. 
“I thought you’d have a different car by now.” You grumble sinking further into your seat, keeping your eyes trained on the trees that zoom past your window.
“You’ll have to pry her from my cold, dead hands, honey.” Steve chuckles, relaxing a little more into his own, a big hand finding a new resting spot on the stick shift.
The endearment sends you reeling, the tequila making it hard to bite your tongue.
“Don’t call me that.” Quickly realizing that staring out the window does nothing to help your already dicey equilibrium, you decide to finally look at him, but you’re not sure if that’s any better.
‘What? Honey?” He asks, fully knowing the answer but egging you on just the same with a ghost of a smirk on his lips.
Narrowing your eyes, you turn fully in your seat doing your best to ignore the way the street lights bounce off his sharp features as you face him.
“What? So you just make out with girls that you’re not dating and get away with it?” 
Steve snorts, licking his lips and meeting your angry gaze with an amused one. 
“I am twenty-four and single.”
Scoffing at his answer, you pause to collect your words that keep getting tangled on the tip of your tongue from too many drinks and how the whites of his teeth start to show in a grin as he glances in the rearview mirror to check on Robin.
“You think you can do whatever you want don’t you?”
“No -“
“What? Because you didn’t peak in high school like you were supposed to, you somehow just got hotter, you think the rules don’t apply to you or something?”
“Good to know you still think I’m hot.” Steve’s face cracks into a smile, turning into an apartment complex you’re assuming is Robin’s. 
“You’re the worst,” you try to deflect weakly, turning back in your seat with a huff.
“I definitely used to be,” he mumbles mostly to himself, putting the car in park, both of you jerking forward slightly. The sudden lack of movement makes Robin groan in the back, lashes fluttering open to look at her surroundings.
“Oh, thank god, I think I’m gonna be sick again.” Her throat sounds hoarse when she finally speaks, but it’s all she can manage before a dry heave has the boy next to you scrambling.
“Not in my car! Not in my car!” Steve’s quick to jump out of the driver's seat rushing to get your best friend out of the back, leaving you alone to fight with your seatbelt. 
Frustrated, you blow a breath out from between your pressed lips tugging on the smooth material while your thumb smashes the release button. It doesn’t budge and the cedar starts to pick at your nerves. An angry noise squeaks from the back of your throat catching Steve’s attention who finally gets Robin on her feet. The spice of his cologne swallows you whole when he emerges back into the car. Leaning over the console he’s gentle when he pushes your hand away. You don’t protest his help this time, eyes tracing the gold chain that slips out from under his shirt. It shimmers everytime it swings from his neck when it hits the moonlight, clicking the button with ease, releasing you from your self imposed trap.
“Thanks,” you grumble, using a wobbling arm to open your door, clambering out less gracefully than you intended.
“Are you good to follow me? I don’t think Robin’s gonna make it up the steps on her own.” Closing the car door, he leans over the top of it, his eyes watching the way you maneuver around his car like you’re walking on thin ice.
“I’m fine,” you growl, right as you lose your footing catching yourself with an open palm on the hood of his trunk.
“Seriously, I can help I just have to take you both one at a -“
“Steve, I said I’m fine. I don’t need anything from you.” You interrupt and if you weren’t so focused on putting one foot in front of the other, you’d see the way the harshness of your words make him wince.
He stares at you for a minute longer before muttering a quiet ‘whatever’ scooping Robin up and tucking her into his side. You follow them at your own pace up the cement steps to the second floor, thankful that her apartment isn’t too far from the landing when you get to the top. Your legs start to feel like Jell-O waiting for him to unlock the door, the long drive from New York and the night finally catching up to you in a way that makes your eyelids heavy as Steve pushes open her front door. 
“Bathroom! Bathroom!” Robin manages to get out when she and Steve cross the threshold first, a string of cuss words spilling out of his mouth as he tries to hurry her to the place she was begging to be taken to.
You use the full force of your weight with your back to the door, closing behind you with a loud slam. The navy blue couch in the middle of her living room begging you to sit down, an invitation your clumsy steps accept, leading you to the fluffy cushions. Collapsing onto them with a satisfied hum, you sink into the foam, lashes fluttering and eyelids getting heavier with each second that passes, and soon you find yourself giving in with a warm cheek pressed into the arm rest.
You don’t know how much time has passed when the feeling of your laces being tugged loose stirs you awake. Trying to focus with vision still blurry from sleep, Steve’s messy head of hair comes clear into your line of sight. Long fingers pull the white strings from the metal eyelets of your converse, a warm palm wrapping around your ankle that sends a shiver up your spine as he slowly wiggles your sneaker off your foot. The white tube socks that cover your feet make him smile with a thumb that dares to rub a small circle on your skin before dropping it to work on the other.
“Steve,” you manage to get out, voice still thick with sleep.
“I’m just tucking you in, that’s all hon- and then I’ll get out of your hair.” He clears his throat after the nickname that set you off earlier burns like acid dying on his tongue.
You grumble something unintelligible, rubbing the mascara off your eyes as he pulls your other shoe off the pad of his thumb doing the same thing to your other ankle making your toes curl. Both his hands find their way to your calves squeezing softly at the muscles before he starts to lift them up.
“Come on, let's get you laying on your side.” He coos, helping you adjust so you’re finally horizontal. You groan a little, reaching out for him on instinct, the softness of his touch making a very drunk you crave more. 
“I’d love to cuddle but I think you’d actually kill me in the morning,” he laughs to himself knowing you won’t remember any of this when you wake up.
You make some more noises that he can’t figure out if they're supposed to be words or not as he drapes Robin’s thick throw blanket over you. Grabbing the material in your fists when you feel it, you pull it even closer, a low satisfied hum spilling from between your lips that still sparkle with leftover glitter from your gloss. He watches the way you curl into yourself, fingers twitching at his side to run his knuckles over your cheek.
“Steve,” his name comes out clear as day, kicking up his heart rate.
“Yeah?” He squats down next to your face, the warmth of your breath hitting his face while your eyebrows furrow in your sleepy state trying to get whatever you want to say out.
“You really broke my heart, you know that?”
Your words punch the air out of his lungs, just like your unexpected arrival. Something he’s fantasized about happening more times than he’d like to admit.
“Yeah, I know.” He sighs defeated, giving into his urges for comfort with knuckles that brush against the warmth of your skin, a familiar burn stings his eyes when you subconsciously lean into it. 
You don’t say anything else to him, the furrow of your brows smoothing out as your face finally starts to relax under his touch. He watches the way your shoulders move with each deep breath that pulls you further into sleep and away from him. 
He takes a selfish minute to stare at you uninterrupted, tracing your cheekbone one last time before he stands up to leave, he knows he won’t get any sleep, and the words you won’t remember saying are already haunting him like a bad dream.
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“Do you really wanna love me like you say you do? Give it to me like you say you do? Cause it’s hard enough you gotta treat me like this, lonely enough to let you treat me like this. Do you really love me?”
Steve was late, glancing down at pink the digital watch on your wrist, fifteen minutes late. Five lockers down from his, you wait for him at what’s been your meeting spot for the last eight months. Far away enough from his locker that no one would suspect you waiting for the King of Hawkins himself, but close enough to the janitor's closet for him to steal you away from sight without anyone noticing for the forty-five minutes of study hall. 
Hushed argumentative whispers catch your attention, nerves making your feet move from side to side unsure if you should abandon ship and just go and study for the final in your last period. Nancy Wheeler's eyes meet yours as she rounds the corner with her best friend Barb, the corners of her lips pulling up ever so slightly giving you a small wave which you return as she tries to ignore her friend.
“He’s just trying to get in your pants! Come on, you have to be smart enough to know that.” Barb points at the note Nancy is clutching in her hand so hard that the whites of her knuckles show.
“It’s not like that, I’m just tutoring him.” She argues but the blush that creeps across her cheeks and spreads down her neck gives her away.
I’m just tutoring him.
That simple sentence is enough for your world to tip off its axis, chest tightening at the realization of who they're arguing about. All the canceled plans the past few weeks with the excuse of extra tutoring starts to feel like a knife to the gut. Prince Charming rounds the corner holding and twists the handle with a bright flirtatious smile that used to be just for you, only now it’s flashed at the dainty brunette who melts under it because no one is immune to Steve Harrington. 
It takes him a minute to see you, too wrapped up in Nancy who’s back is pressed to the lockers, caged in by Steve’s big hand splayed against the metal by her head. They’re too far to hear what he’s saying to her, but the confident way his teeth flash and the sweet giggle he earns from it tells you everything you need to know. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing them fall. Fists clenched at your sides, the blunt ends of your nails dig into your palms as you hold in the sob that threatens to give you away as you walk past them, meeting his guilty eyes before you round the corner.  
The pounding in your head wakes you up before the sun that leaks through Robin’s small kitchen window. Your hangover rings in your ears with a vengeance, and has you letting out a pained groan. Everything after the joint you shared outside at the party is nothing but a blur, a scattered puzzle with pieces missing as you try and figure out how you ended up back home and tucked into the couch. 
“Are you alive out there?” Robin’s voice calls out weakly from down the hall in her room. 
“Barely,” you grumble, agitation kicking in from dehydration and the old wounds your dream decided to rip open.
“I’d say I’m never drinking again but we both know that’s a lie,” she says, muffled by what sounds like a pillow.
A giggle tries to escape, but it only makes you wince, clutching your forehead willing the pain to subside.
“How’d we even get home?” You croak, rubbing harshly at your eyes before attempting to sit up, covering them with a cupped palm as your surroundings get brighter.
“Steve,” Robin’s voice comes out right next to you, surprising you by appearing in the entryway. 
Hearing his name out loud sends the kind of rage that scorches through your veins, it burns from your fingertips remembering the look on his face when you broke up a few weeks after that day in the hallway your dreams so sweetly reminded you of. 
It was Pity.
Your best friend ignores your silence and the sour look on your face as you silently take a trip down memory lane while she shuffles into the living room wandering to the attached kitchen. 
“How far is Eddie’s shop from here?” You grimace watching her chug from a carton of orange juice.
“Oh, super close. You can walk from here.” She answers, wiping her upper lip with the back of your hand, “they opened like two hours ago, I’m sure he’s already looked at your car.”
“I think I’m going to shower and go over, do you want to come with me?” Raising your hands above your head, you stretch your sore muscles as a yawn comes out in the middle of your question.
“I think I need to rot in bed for a little while longer before I go walk amongst the living, I promise I’m all yours after I don’t feel like a freaking crypt keeper.” Your yawn is contagious, giving you a view of all her perfectly straight teeth.
“I demand something greasy for lunch when I get back then.” You point at her finding your footing on the carpet, noticing your converse are tucked nice and neat against the couch next to you. The feeling of Steve’s knuckles is a ghost against your skin, details starting to come out clear from the murky waters. 
Heat rushes to your cheek at the memory while your emotions start to go at war with each other over what to feel towards the man who tucked you and your best friend in last night, but also broke your heart in a way you don’t think you’ll ever quite forget. 
“I’m on it boss, god, I wish Benny’s was still open.” Robin interrupts the inner struggle she’s oblivious to you having as she walks past you flinging herself on the couch you’d just won the battle of leaving “But I’ll think of something good, I promise.”
Just like your yawn, the smile she gives you is contagious despite the sharp pain you get in your head from moving too much and you both laugh wincing when it only gets worse. 
Ibuprofen first, then your car.
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Birds chirp loudly, mocking the headache that's turned into something more annoying than painful after a handful of ibuprofen. The sticky air is still suffocating even in a pair of black biker shorts and an oversized loose fitting tee, while the sun shines golden against the cerulean sky without a cloud in sight to hide you from its light. 
The heat warming off its rays makes beads of sweat start to collect at the crown of your head and the nape of your neck, while the incline Eddie’s spinning auto body sign sits on top of threatens to take your breath away. Unwanted thoughts of Steve Harrington keep your pace quick, stewing over the last twenty-four hours and everything it’s unraveled.
The small parking lot is empty when you reach it, kicking small rocks with the toe of your sneaker as you cross it. The double garage doors are open, Metallica’s Seek and Destroy echoing loudly, tugging up the corners of your lips. Your Chevrolet Caprice is the only car semi-lifted in the air with a pair navy coverall-clad legs underneath it.
Opening your mouth, Eddie’s name dies on your tongue before you get a chance to shout it, clocking him and his wild curls sitting in the glass office inside. Those big brown eyes meet yours from across the way, a dimple filled grin lighting up his face waving excitedly from his chair before standing up.
“Glad to see you’re alive, princess.” He teases stepping out of his glass case, with coveralls that are gray today.
“Honestly, it’s a miracle,” you laugh, confused eyes darting to the large boots under your car that don’t seem to have any reaction to the sound of your voice.
“Oh, I heard all about your first night back home. In fact my shop opened thirty minutes late because of it,” he chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the open metal frame where the door should be. Faded bats that you remember when they were fresh dancing across his arm with his movements.
“Wait, what?” You ask, confusion pinching your brows together right as the mysterious pair of legs start pushing out whoever’s under your car.
“I didn’t get back to my place till almost four in the morning after getting you two home and in bed,” Steve emerges flashing you his million dollar smile as he sits up on the dolly, the sleeves of his own coveralls tied tight around his waist and hair wild like he’d just rolled out of bed, “I slept through my alarm.”
The immediate glare that hardens your face when you see him has Eddie's eyes light with obvious amusement. 
“What are you doing here? And why are you touching my car?” You snap, trying to push the worries about what you look like deep under the irritation and the distraction that begs to steal your anger with his arms on full display like this. Or how the patch of chest hair that peeks out the top of it shines with sweat. 
“I work here,” Steve snorts like it’s the most obvious conclusion, because, well, it is, “and I volunteered to look at it, Eddie’s got his hands full.” 
That was a lie, he begged him.
“Since when do you know anything about cars?” Snorting, your attitude makes him roll his eyes, pushing himself off the ground.
It’s a struggle to hold his gaze when he stands at full height, biceps flexing with his movements practically daring you to look. He pulls out a faded maroon rag from his pocket and starts wiping off the fresh black from his hands that’s already stained under his nail beds. The hard bottoms of his work boots making their way across the cement floors of the garage. 
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me anymore, that’s what happens when someone leaves for five years.” Steve antagonizes, his lack of sleep leaving him with thin patience.
He stops just close enough for you to smell how the woodsy spice of his cologne mixes with the sweet bitterness of the oil that seems to find a way to leave its mark on every surface in here. Including him.
“I’m going to finish balancing the books, why don’t you tell her the good news first and then the bad,” Eddie pours ice over the tension that threatens to boil over before it can turn hostile, catching the way both of your nostrils flare and shoulders square up.
“Wait, there’s good news and bad news?” Your focus on Steve shifts as Eddie’s words sink in.
“Like I said, I’m going to finish balancing the books.” The metal head reminds you, giving a half salute with two fingers while simultaneously shooting a stern look to Steve who’s mouthing something behind you. “Your mechanic’s going to go over everything with you, we can talk about pricing when it’s all said and done.”
“Seriously?” You bluster as Eddie shrugs with the kind of nonchalance that sends you reeling before sitting back down, tuning the dial-up on the radio in his office. End of discussion.
“Look -“
“How do I even know that you know what you’re talking about?” You interrupt, making his full lips set into a straight line.
“Are you going to be like this the whole time?” Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before crossing his arms, the tops of his shoulders moving with them. 
A pleading expression softens his features instead of the hard combative one you were anticipating, and it helps your blood pressure return to normal. The realization hitting you that maybe skipping breakfast with a hangover probably wasn’t your smartest idea.
“N-no, sorry, I just feel like -“
“Shit? Yeah, I bet.” He chuckles, and your jaw clicks. Maybe if you count to three…
“Just tell me what’s wrong with my car, Steve.” It comes out clipped, but it's an improvement from your fingers twitching to rip that handsome head right off those shoulders that won’t stop trying to distract you.
“How about you tell me the last time you had your oil changed?” He counters, taking a few steps back to sit on the hood of the rusted baby blue Buick behind him. 
“Uhh, I- I think,” All the blood rushes to your cheeks, warming your skin as you try to wrack your brain and not focus on the way his legs spread wide to keep his balance. “Maybe, like, six months ago.”
“Six months?!” The number must be worse than whatever Steve was preparing for when a dirty hand runs through his hair, “and then you drove it three states to get here?”
“Yeah, I - I mean, hearing you say it out loud,” you grimace thinking of all the weeks you ignored that flashing orange light on your dashboard.
“So then you shouldn’t be surprised when I tell you that your engine locked up.” 
“Is this the bad news?” 
“Kind of,”
“What do you mean kind of?”
“Look, the good news is that I can fix it, the bad news is that I have to order a few parts that could take up to three weeks to get here, then the job itself is going to take me probably another week.” He sighs standing up, starting back towards your car with you quick on his heels.
“That’s the whole summer!” You argue like it could possibly make a difference, frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes watching him pop open the hood.
“More like half of it, but hey, you’re lucky I can even get it running again without having to replace the whole thing.” He meets your gaze from under his lashes leaning over the engine, long nimble fingers unscrewing the cap where your oil should go.
“So what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to get around?” You know that part isn’t his problem, this entire mess is your own doing but it doesn’t stop it coming out in a whine. You blame your hangover.
“You’re gonna be just fine, city girl,” Steve grins up at you before reaching even further under the hood, muscles flexing with him, “besides we both know I can’t say no to Robin.”
He pulls at a small tube that’s purpose is unknown to you but you keep eyes trained on his movements like you have an idea, anything to keep the focus off the gold chain that dangles from his neck. 
“Or you.” The last part comes out so quiet, a focused look pinching his brows together as he continues his investigation.
“Me?” 
He doesn’t look at you when he shrugs, pulling at something with a little more force that makes you both flinch. 
“How much is this going to cost me, Steve?” Your defeat shows in your tone, as the question slips quietly from between your lips that you wish you’d have put gloss on now.
He grunts at the same time something pops against metal under his hands, muttering a string of curse words under his breath before standing back up wiping his palms on the white cotton of his tank top. Charcoal stains fill the small grooves in the fabric with each swipe of his hands, pulling the collar further down every time. It’s a losing battle not to look at his chest when every motion reveals more of the thick curls underneath. 
Steve clears his throat, letting you know that you’ve been caught and it’s at this moment you wish you could walk in front of the moving truck that drives loudly past the shop, only exaggerating the silence that follows.
“Don’t stress about that today,” he smiles, letting you off the hook for now, something mischievous dancing in his eyes for another time. “Like Eddie said, we’ll figure it out.”
“Don’t stress about it?! Have you met me?” You huff, the money you’ve saved up for the summer starting to dwindle right before your eyes. 
“I have actually,” Steve chuckles, stepping close enough for the tips of your shoes to touch his boots. He feels bold when you don’t make any attempt to move away like at the party or retreat when he closes the gap. A thumb and forefinger finding their way to your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, “and you’re going to be fine, I promise.”
Your lips part on their own, the full force of his face from this close stealing the breath from your lungs. You can smell the coffee he had this morning and the mint from his toothpaste still lingering on his breath. The stubble that lines his sharp jaw is even more noticeable today, tapering off at the top of his neck making the cluster of moles that live there stand out even more. A pink tongue runs over his full bottom lip and it has your lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks.
“Now go get some food, grumpy,” his voice comes out low, a teasing edge to it that reminds you of what it’s like to have Steve Harrington flirt with you. “I’ll call when I get the parts, okay?”
It’s like detention junior year all over again as you turn into putty in his hand. Still too attractive for his own good, all you can do is nod while all the fight you had left inside you disappears as the pad of his thumb swipes soft against your heated skin just under your pouted lip before letting you go. He turns on his heel after that, walking back to the box of tools he has spread out over his workbench before adding,
“Do me a favor and tell Robin she owes me a new shirt.”
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beta’d by @sweetsweetjellybean
🌻 chapter two
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the-record · 4 months
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☀️ i see the light ☀️
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summary: ellie is just trying to hide from the guards when she stumbles apon a tower and a girl with really long hair.
pairing: flynn ryder!ellie williams x rapunzel!reader
warnings: non me things
a/n: i want to thank the oh so lovely @meowmeowtimw for sending me their gorgeous art, and also everyone who anticipated this fic. thank you so much for the love. also, first time doing a taglist, but let me know if you’d like to be added!
this is going to be done in parts bc my tumblr glitches and i dont want to lose any writing and delay this anymore! i have changed it up a bit from the movie to attempt to fit ellie as a character and not feel like im writing out the script but all the iconic moments will be included
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you’re not quite sure how she ended up here. knocked out and stuffed in your wardrobe.
earlier, it had just been you and pascal. your mother out fetching ingredients for dinner, your birthday dinner.
she’d shut down your hopes and dreams of seeing the lights you saw every year for your birthday. she called them stars, made you feel fragile and weak. left with a half hearted goodbye.
thats when the girl showed up.
short auburn hair, climbing the tower with arrows. before you knew it, she was passed out on the floor, a frying pan in your hands.
in her bag though, that was the interesting piece. something gold and shiny, crystals decorating the circle. too big to be a bracelet, too beautiful to be a magnifying glass.
you and pascal jumped as your mother called up the tower, a surprise apparently. when you tried bringing up the lights once more, she’d simply laughed, brushing it off. you tried again, but gave up when she yelled, asking for paints.
she left, leaving you alone again. until you weren’t.
a girl, in your window.
now in your chair, tied up with pascal on her shoulder. he licked her ear, once, twice, three times before she jolted awake with a yell.
“what the hell?”
you took a deep breath, still hiding in a shadow.
“struggling… struggling is pointless.”
she looked around, taking in what was holding her down. was it, hair?
“i know why you’re here, and im not afraid of you.” slowly, you stepped into her view. “who are you, and how did you find me?”
“am i wrapped in hair?” the girl gawked at you, struggling under the wraps. “who am i? who are you? this is insane. this is kidnapping, just so you know.”
your face dropped. “you broke in first.”
“and you knocked me out and tied me up! with hair! who even has this much hair?” she groaned as she struggled.
“so you dont know who i am?” you whispered as you stepped closer.
she looked at you incredulously, “are you joking? of course not. can you let me out now?” you nodded as you stopped in front of her.
only now did you really notice her. short auburn hair, tied up at the back. green eyes that matched yours. freckles lining her nose and cheeks. lips slightly cracked and parted.
“ill let you out, if you promise me one thing.” she rolled her eyes but nodded. “every year, on my birthday, there are these lights. my mother told me they were stars, but ive tracked the stars for years.” you turned away and pulled back the curtain to your most recent painting. “they’re floating lights, and you are going to take me to them.” she hesitated but you quickly jumped in. “and if you don’t, say goodbye to your satchel.”
she sighed and relaxed into the chair. “alright, fine.” she smiled as your eyes lit up and you ran to her. “ill take you. but, we’re going my way.” you nodded excitedly as you untangled her from your hair. “and, im ellie by the way.”
“rapunzel.”
she shook out her limbs before standing. “rapunzel? pretty.”
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“so you’ve really never been outside the tower before?”
ellie walked slightly ahead with her hands in her pockets, a small smile on her face. she said she knew a place to stop on your way to the kingdom.
you nodded as you took in everything. “she said it was too dangerous for me out here. that id get eaten alive.”
ellie frowned a bit as you spoke. you were definitely a bit ditzy, but smart. you weren’t naive but you noticed the good in everything you’d seen.
“so,” you pulled up beside ellie, nearly bumping her. “how did you find me?”
“i didn’t actually intend to.” she said, looking at you. “i was running, from… some very bad people, and i stumbled apon a pass in the woods. totally by accident. and when i went through it, there it was. the tower.” she watched as you nodded. “i figured id just, go up. i wasnt really thinking someone might be there.”
“obviously.” you teased.
she rolled her eyes, “alright whatever. i just needed somewhere to wait everyone out. and then you came out of nowhere and tried to maim me.”
you gasped, hitting her arm as she laughed. “i thought you were gonna hurt me! what was i supposed to do?”
“okay, fair enough.” you walked in silence for awhile, side by side, hands grazing.
ellie couldn’t help but feel a pull to you. you were kind, and funny. she hadn’t known you very long, but she knew she wanted to know more. and she couldn’t deny your beauty.
she was knocked out of her thoughts as you pointed to a sign in the distance.
snuggly duckling.
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taglist: @urcherrr @onlinelesbo @diddiqueen @pedropascalsbbg @dinaismyfavmilf @madislayyy @ellieswilliamsgf @williamellieslilho @iove-bbb @swxxtbnny
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fadedin2u · 5 months
Text
like doves in the wind
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MDNI 18+
summary: ellie’s past girlfriends never offered to eat her out, and when you find that out, you decide to take matters into your own hands (based on the song like doves in the wind by sza)
word count: 1.2k
content: sub!ellie, dom!reader, cunnilingus (e!receiving), fingering (e!receiving)
notes: this is definitely not proofread, but this is my first time writing smut (oh dear lord) so helpful critiques are much appreciated lmao
you look at your girlfriend with a startled look on your face, taken aback.
“none of your past girlfriends or hook ups have wanted to eat you out?” you ask, borderline in disbelief.
ellie’s freckled cheeks are red with embarrassment, and she looks anywhere other than your face.
“i mean… no. but it’s not like i asked them to or anything… but they weren’t… they didn’t offer it up, i guess.” ellie finishes, her teeth tearing at her bottom lip nervously.
you and ellie recently started dating after years of pining, and you’ve been taking it slower than she’s used to, but you’ve still done quite a bit together. you assumed that ellie had done basically everything under the sun when it came to sex due to her experience with women, but you clearly assumed wrong on this one.
you watch ellie, noticing how her normally playful and sometimes brash personality has been dulled, leaving her anxious and unsure of herself.
you lean against her, kissing under her jaw, “hey. it’s okay, it’s not like you’ve done anything wrong, i’m just surprised.”
ellie sighs, rubbing the back of her neck, “it’s kind of fucking weird though, right? i mean… not to sound stupid, but it makes me stressed that there was, like, a reason…”
you kiss her lips this time, carefully as you cup her face. you pull back, making sure her green eyes are making direct eye contact with yours.
“els… no. if there was a reason, it’s probably a fucking stupid one.”
you kiss her jaw again, and then her neck.
“would you let me try?”
ellie’s eyes widen and her breath picks up slightly. her hands instinctively come to brace your hips as you kiss her neck.
“you- you want to?” ellie asks, her voice slightly hoarse.
you nip her neck, laughing slightly, “are you fucking kidding?”
ellie inhales shakily at your response, getting ridiculously turned on, but still a little nervous.
“if you- um, if you want to stop, you can really stop whenever, like anytime, even if i haven’t cum yet-“
you cut ellie off with another kiss to the lips, your hands sliding down her chest and stomach.
“do you want this?” you murmur against her lips between kisses.
ellie nods immediately, “please.”
that’s all you need, pushing ellie’s t-shirt up to expose her perky breasts, your girlfriend never willingly choosing to wear a bra.
you cup and squeeze her tits as you kiss her, and she makes a breathy little noise.
you smile into the kiss at her response and pull back, moving down to kiss one of her nipples before taking it into your mouth and sucking on it.
ellie’s legs jump a little and her hands immediately go to your head as she moans softly, pressing your head into her chest.
“fuck, that fucking tongue of yours…” she rasps, her eyes focused on your lips latched on to her nipple.
you move to do the same to the other side, and ellie’s reactions never get old.
when you start kissing down her stomach, her breath gets heavier, her pupils dilated. you reach the waistband of her jeans, licking a stripe across the skin just above it.
ellie whines a little, “don’t be a fucking tease…”
you look up, raising an eyebrow, “oh, so it’s only fair when you tease me?”
ellie’s cheeks burn, not having a response to that.
you giggle a little and undo her fly, pulling her jeans down.
when you see the obvious wet spot on her boxers, you grin wide, knowing that you’re responsible.
“shut the fuck up.” ellie warns, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and desire.
you just grin cheekily at ellie before you kiss down her inner thigh from her knee. ellie’s breath grows more bated, biting her lip as she watches you.
when you finally get to the wet spot on her boxers, you pull back, looking up through your lashes at ellie, “can i taste you?”
ellie nearly moans at your words, “fucking please.”
you don’t hesitate before pressing your face in between her legs, pressing a broad, firm lick to the wet spot. ellie makes a guttural noise, her hands gripping the duvet beneath her. you can feel her warmth beneath your tongue, and you press your tongue into her for a moment before completely withdrawing.
ellie’s face already looks wrecked when you look up, and at this point, you’re too desperate to tease her anymore.
you pull her boxers down and dive between her legs again, licking a stripe up her soaking wet pussy, collecting her juices on your tongue.
ellie moans embarrassingly loud as her legs instantly close around your head, and you push them back so they’re spread.
“nuh uh. open.” you say sternly, and she immediately nods.
you feel a weird rush from the power trip of having ellie williams under your thumb, obeying you. you don’t hesitate before continuing to eat ellie out, your tongue plunging between her folds as she gasps and whimpers
“fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-“ ellie chants as she holds onto your hair, her hands pushing your face into her.
you allow it, your tongue circling her entrance before diving into it, tasting more of ellie’s pre-cum from the source.
you pull back, your lips and chin wet as you admire her for a second. her legs are trembling slightly, her boxers and jeans gathered around her ankles, and her t-shirt bunched up over her tits.
“god you’re fucking pretty…” you breathe out, licking your lips. ellie almost looks like she’s going to argue that, but she bites her tongue, thankfully.
“your exes are more stupid than i thought to pass up on this-“ you say before pressing your face back into her core and continuing your ministrations, your tongue circling her clit.
“jesus fuck-“ ellie pants, her eyes clenching shut as she clutches at your hair.
her bush tickles your nose slightly as you eat her out, wiggling your head back and forth a little. you slowly bring your hand up to her entrance and slip two fingers in without warning.
ellie moans loudly, her mouth agape as she pants and bucks her hips.
you continue to circle her clit with your tongue as you curl your fingers inside her, starting to pump them in and out.
you keep at this a while until you slip in a third finger, finger fucking her hard as you suck her clit, her juices starting to drip down your hand and forearm.
ellie is a whimpering mess at this point, bucking her pussy into your mouth as you pleasure her.
“shit- i’m gonna fucking cum don’t stop-“ ellie whimpers, her legs trembling more and more.
you don’t stop, curling your fingers up harder as she climaxes, her hips moving wildly as you slurp her up, her eyes rolling back into her head.
you work her through her orgasm, and when she comes down, you slowly withdraw your fingers from her.
“suck these while i clean you up, yeah?” you ask, bringing your fingers to her mouth.
ellie’s eyes widen before wrapping her lips around your fingers, humming as she sucks and licks them.
you go back down to lick up ellie’s cum, her sticky, clear juices melting on your tongue as you lick her thoroughly. her hips jolt and you hear a muffled whimper from above.
when she’s cleaned up, you lift up your head, wiping off your mouth.
“feeling okay?” you ask, climbing back up to cuddle with her.
ellie laughs a little, a goofy, satiated grin on her face as she looks at you incredulously, “dude. are yolu fucking serious?”
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angelbarelywrites · 1 month
Text
♡ slashers scenarios | y’all accidentally adopt a kid
♡ fandoms; Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (original + 2006), Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)
♡ characters; Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer
♡ reader; gender neutral
♡cw; parenthood (?), mentions of violence
♡notes; i work with toddlers all day yet still somehow get baby fever- so here’s this i guess lol.
i can’t see Brahms as a dad so skipped out on him this time, Vincent is iffy too but we might come back to him
•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•
Micheal Myers
> micheal never wanted to be a father before he met you
> he knows for a fact he has something terribly wrong with him
> and while it never bothered him…it was far too dangerous to pass on
> but the way you light up when little kids on the street wave to you
> how you talked about building a family when you got drunk and sappy
> and how soft and gentle you were holding your friend’s baby…
> he knew you’d be the perfect parent, good enough to balance any bullshit he was bring to the table
> so it’s maybe not a complete accident when he stalks into the house with a banged up stroller out front
> the baby is crying, his parents passed out from some shit they snorted in the living room
> it makes his job easier when he slits their throats, and he’s sure as hell not sympathetic
> not that he ever is
> he follows the cries upstairs- a tiny little boy is wailing in his crib
> but he stops and stares at Micheal, blue eyes wide as he looms in the door
> at first Micheal thinks the racket it going to start again and braces for the scream
> but the boy reaches for him eagerly instead, making grabby hands and squealing
> it takes a bit of snooping but Micheal finds some paperwork after he’s secured the child in a carrier
> Miles. The boy’s name is Miles, and he’s ten months old- just tiny for his age
> you think he’s fucking with you when he sets a baby carrier on your table that night
> “…that’s Miles.” He mutters and walks away
> you’re pissed but you can’t say you have anything but an urge to protect this tiny boy
> he has red hair, and light freckles and the sweetest disposition
> he’s perfect, surely Micheal wouldn’t just steal a child…not without good reason
> and you notice Micheal still lingering, watching you both
> you try not to smile
> “…well. Gonna help me find somewhere he can sleep or not?”
Thomas Hewitt
> when Charlie brings in the little girl, Luda Mae is beyond excited
> she had no idea the couple she’d sent down their road had a baby
> her dark curls and chubby legs and ruddy pink cheeks remind her so much of Thomas at that age too
> not too far off from one if she’s got it right
> she’s thinking selfishly, she’s always wanted a daughter
> but Thomas’ eyes go so wide when you both walk in
> he’s in awe of the tiny lil thing sleeping against his mama’s shoulder
> he won’t hold her, terrified of hurting her
> but you’re eager to take her for a bit and he gets real close, chin hooked on your shoulder so he can inspect her closely
> she’s all giggles as she touches his mask
> and you’re nearly in tears when she snuggles up against you
> “…yknow…i’ve been thinkin. i’m much closer to grandmama age than mama age now”
> you say yes before Luda can finish her ask - there was nothing you wanted more than a child with Thomas
> he’s hesitant, but he already adores her
> you have no way of knowing her name, so what you should call her is a bit of a hot topic for a few days
> Charlie wants to name her Charlotte because he’s a self centered bastard , and Luda Mae has about a thousand suggestions that come from baby books decades older than you
> but you let Thomas decide
> Audrey Mae Hewitt is what he chooses
> Audrey from a book he read
> Mae from his mama
> and it suits her perfectly
Bubba Sawyer
> “hey cook! look what i got!”
> Drayton about beats Choptop in the plate when he sees him carrying a toddler under his arm like a log
> but he’s kind of impressed such a scrawny dirtbag can carry a chunky kid like that
> the little boy is a healthy weight for two or so, with lil chipmunk cheeks that dimple when he grins
> and the cutest damn mullet you’ll ever see
> Drayton is getting too damn old for this, and there’s only one person he trusts even a minuscule amount in the house
> so he just. hands him to you when you walk into the front room
> “congratulations, it’s a boy”
> you’re confused but excited
> and a bit concerned with how he and Bubba will feel once the man gets home
> a kid is a big commitment- and a man that wears people’s faces can be scary
> but Bubba immediately squeals and beelines for the little one when he staggers in
> they both tilt their heads curiously before the boy tries to climb up his leg
> when he picks him up, the boy gives a huge belly laugh, kicking his legs
> you choose his name- politely declining your boyfriend’s brothers’ insistence on Lil Choppy or Drayton II
> Jedediah Junior sounds perfect to you - little JJ
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hannyoontify · 3 months
Text
little stars - kwon soonyoung
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member | non-idol!hoshi x illustrator!reader
genre | fluff, newly est. relationship
word count | 2k with some change
synopsis | soonyoung sees you without makeup for the first time, and he notices something he’s never seen before
warnings | reader wears makeup, reader has freckles on their face, reader is implied to have insomnia but it’s not prevalent to the plot, reader is ticklish, soonyoung has an extensive vocabulary of terms of endearment that borderline make me wanna hurl if they were used unironically, soonyoung makes a shrek reference
notes | i have freckles on the back of my hands and have always been insecure of them but i remembered how my ex used to kiss them and say they were beautiful
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Soonyoung’s not a criminal. He knows that. The last time he committed a serious crime was back when he was seven years old when he stole a new pack of crayons from his sister’s friends’ house after a play date.
(Two seconds after leaving said friend's house and he could no longer handle the overwhelming and crushing guilt and ended up running to his mom and crying, calling himself a “tiger thief.”)
So when Soonyoung urgently texts your best friend to ask for the password to your apartment, he can’t help but feel a dull pang of guilt in his chest as he inputs the numbers he sees into the digital keypad. His hands are shaking as the door unlocks and he fumbles through the doorway and upon your quiet and dark apartment.
It’s well past noon now and yet, there wasn’t a single hint of you in the living room and kitchen. The sink was still empty, the drying rack was full, the throw pillows on the couch looked too pristine, and the curtains were still closed. Fearing the worst, Soonyoung quietly made his way to your closed bedroom door, his sock-covered feet padding along the floor. 
He softly knocks once. Then twice. “[Name]?” No response. 
“[Name]? Baby? Are you awake?” When he doesn’t get a response, Soonyoung pushes the door slightly open. “I’m coming in…” 
In the dark room, all Soonyoung could perceive was a lump amidst the lush pile of stuffed animals and blankets, your sleeping form slowly rising and falling. “Baby…” He pushed the door wider, letting the minimal light from the living room stream past your doorway, shedding light into your dark room.
The lump under the big fluffy duvet stirred, squirming around as Soonyoung approached the side of your bed. He turned on the mushroom lamp you had on your bedside table and you let out a loud groan. 
While you stirred in your sheets, Soonyoung glanced around your room. He’d only been to your apartment a couple times in the past few months but he was already familiar to the layout of your bedroom. In the corner, next to the window was your desk with your extensive, impressive PC set-up. Sheets of half-drawn and unfinished pencil drawings were strewn across your drawing board and your desk was a flurry of paper, reference photos, and pencils.
Soonyoung felt a pang in his chest at the realization that you had probably stayed up until ungodly hours trying to finish your illustrations. You were an artiste and you had a bad habit of working until you practically dropped dead when you were struck by a lightning of inspiration.
“[Name], love, it’s time to wake up. It’s already past 3 in the afternoon. Sleeping is for the nighttime.” You poked your head out of the blanket, the edge of the fluffy duvet resting right below your eyes and covering the rest of your face. 
You stared at him blankly with bloodshot eyes and Soonyoung swore he saw—and heard—the gears turning in your head. It took you a couple seconds to recognize your boyfriend. “Soonie?” You croaked out, your voice still hoarse having woken up just seconds before.
Soonyoung smiled at the nickname and affectionately patted your head. “Time to wake up, sleepy head. Don’t wanna ruin your sleep schedule. Late night, huh?”
You nodded and rubbed an eye. “Deadline was…” You yawned. “Last night. Couldn’t sleep either.”
Soonyoung nodded sympathetically. 
“What- what time is it?” You blinked at him with the blanket still covering the rest of your face. Your hair was a tussled mess that was fanned out on the pillow behind you.
“3 pm, baby. C’mon. Let’s get you out of bed.” Soonyoung gently pulled the blanket away, revealing the rest of your face and your matching tiger pajamas. Your boyfriend stared at your clothes, an ambiguous look in his eyes that made you unsure of whether he found your pajamas adorable, or if he simply coveted your clothes and hence boosting you up to top 3 on his rob list, next to his model friend, Joshua and his tiger striped patterned button-up.
(That button-up wasn’t even his, it was something his stylist had just put on him for one of his magazine photo shoots.)
Meanwhile, reality had finally begun to settle in for you as you just realized that your new, hot boyfriend was standing in your bedroom, fluffy hair galore. He was standing over you with a twinkling look in his eyes, clad in a pair of black sweatpants and a white tank top, his muscles flexing and rolling as he tugged the blanket off of you.
You then suddenly became painfully aware of your appearance. You were in your embarrassing tiger character pajamas and your face was painstakingly bare. Your hands flew up to your hands and you flipped over, burying your face into your pillow with a loud groan. 
“Soonie, can you wait outside for me?” Your voice was muffled by the fabric of your pillow. 
Soonyoung reached out for your shoulder and his eyebrows scrunched up with worry. “Why? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
With your hands still covering your face, you rolled back and peeked at your boyfriend through your fingers. “I’mmph mmm wmmph any mammphup.”
Soonyoung chuckled and gently grabbed your wrists. “Baby, I can’t understand what you’re saying.” 
“I’m not wearing any makeup,” you whined. “You’ve never seen me barefaced before, I’m embarrassed.”
“Nooooo, baby, lemme see your hot and sexy face,” When you wouldn’t budge, Soonyoung sighed in fake exasperation. “Then you leave me no choice.”
He crawled into the empty spot next to you in bed and wrapped his big arms around you, prying your hands away from your face. 
You giggled and wriggled away from Soonyoung, using everything within you to try and hide from your boyfriend who was now currently pinning you to the mattress jiu-jitsu style. You shrieked when Soonyoung’s cold fingers dug into your sides, causing you to writhe around under him, like a fish without water. You gasped for air as Soonyoung tickled you but your hands still firmly covered your face.
“Baby, babe, pookie bear, my sweet sugar plum, my snookum bear, honey bunch, sweet cheeks, pooh bear, pudding pie, my cutie patootie, snuggle bear,” Soonyoung gently grabbed your wrists again. “I don’t care if you’re the pretty princess version of Fiona or the ogre version. I’ll be the Shrek to whichever version you are, because,” Soonyoung placed a hand over his chest and spoke after a dramatic pause. “It’s the heart that truly matters.”
You snorted. 
“Are you laughing at me and my Shrek analogy? You know it took me a long time to think of that.” Soonyoung seemed to deflate and he pouted.
“Of course not baby. I think your Shrek analogy is genius,” You peeked through your fingers, just in time to see his chest swell again with pride–you had complimented his Shrek analogy! “But I’m still not showing you my face.”
“BABY NOOOOO,” Soonyoung dramatically threw himself against you, his fingers seeking refuge in your armpits this time, causing you to erupt into a fit of giggles. “LEMME SEE YO FACEEEEE.”
“Nooooo,” you whined. Despite your protests, you couldn’t help but giggle as Soonyoung tried different combinations of kissing and tickling to try and get you to open up.
Thanks to his stubbornness and his iron grip, he was finally able to pry your hands off your face and pinned them against the pillow next to you. In the midst of wrestling you, Soonyoung had ended up on top of you, his legs straddling your waist and he looked down at you with a triumphant grin. “Gotcha.”
His eyes were roaming around your face, evidently studying you as you tried to avoid eye contact. Your giggles slowly subsided, and you heard Soonyoung trying to catch his own breath. When he finally managed to lock his eyes with your own, there was a softness in his eyes in the way he looked at you that you had never seen before.
Breathless, Soonyoung spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You… have freckles…”
“H-huh?” You felt your cheeks burning as your boyfriend timidly brought a hand up to your face. His fingertips softly grazed your skin, his touch so light and gentle, you would’ve thought it was just a light gust of wind if you hadn’t been paying attention. Soonyoung’s eyes stayed trained on your cheeks, his eyes examining each and every individual freckle with a gentleness you had never seen from him before.
You’ve always been aware of the freckles on your face, but they’ve never received this much attention from someone before. It felt awkward, but it also felt… intimate. It felt nice for your beauty marks to be appreciated, and your heart swelled with affection at the sweet gesture from your boyfriend. 
Soonyoung continued to study the freckles, his fingers lightly tracing your skin with a feather-like touch. As if he was trying to commit every single detail of you to memory. Finally, his eyes meet yours and the corner of his lip tugs up, hinting a smile. “You’re beautiful.”
You feel the heat on your cheeks spreading across your face to the tip of your ears and you become unsure of how to respond. Sure, you’ve received compliments before, but not like this. No compliment you’ve ever received has ever been this intimate or vulnerable. The way Soonyoung said those two words made it sound like a secret. A secret that he uttered quietly into the void, whispering it into existence, just for you to hear. A secret only the two of you would know.
You thought your heart was about to burst. 
Soonyoung cupped your face with both his hands and his thumbs rubbed gently against the soft skin on your cheekbones. You blinked up at him, watching his big, dark eyes roam around your face. The light of your mushroom lamp reflected in his eyes, sparkling and shining with a child-like wonder. 
Your room was dimly lit, the muted colors in your room solely provided by the small lamp on your bedside table. It had begun to rain at some point, the dull pitter-patter of the rain against your window replicating the beating of your heart. 
After what seems like forever, you finally speak up. “Soonie?”
Soonyoung begrudgingly tears his eyes away from your freckles and looks into your own, shining eyes. “Yes, baby?”
“I–” you faltered, unsure of what to say. You pursed your lips and stared at your boyfriend who gave you a soft, loving smile. “Are my freckles that interesting?”
Soonyoung’s grin grew into a boy-ish one and he reached over and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “Yes, honey. I want to commit every part of you to memory. I want to learn the story behind every freckle and scar. I want to learn all of you.” 
You felt an unfamiliar warmth stir in your heart, that soon spread throughout the rest of your body, through your fingertips and every cell of your being. Your heart fluttered. Was this what poets and lyricists meant when they wrote of love
“They’re like… I mean, I’m not a poet but-” Soonyoung fumbles as he searches for the right words to describe the immeasurable admiration and love he felt for you. 
Your freckles were strikingly beautiful and Soonyoung felt the wind getting knocked out of him when he first saw the sweet brown sugar sprinkled on your nose and cheekbones. They were like April rain showers that sprinkle the green grass with yellow flowers and Soonyoung thought your face mimicked the night sky, your freckles glinting and gleaming like countless stars. 
“Your freckles… they remind me of beautiful constellations. They can create illustrations in the night sky by connecting the dots and they tell stories, your stories.” Soonyoung paused. “And I love them.”
Your breath catches in your throat. Was he-?
“I love you.”
Soonyoung gazed down at you with an uncertain look, his eyes searching your own for some kind of response. His heart hammered against his chest as he wondered if you felt the same way yet. 
You did. 
“I love you too, Soonyoung. And baby?”
“Hm?”
“That was so much better than your Shrek analogy.”
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reblogs and feedback are always appreciated ^-^
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rivatar · 23 days
Text
“Love Bites”
Pairing: Adult!Neteyam x fem!human!reader
W/c: 1.2k
Warnings/content: MDNI smut!, biting/marking, blood thirsty neteyam, a lil somnophilia but not much, established relationship, fingering, demon Teyam
A/n: this is prompt 6 for Pandora’s Bloody Moon, I’m sorry it’s 2 days late, I was so busy this weekend😩 also I’m sorry if it’s not good, it’s def not my best work but still hope you guys can enjoy :)
“I’ll see you tomorrow, paskalin,” Neteyam sweetly bid you goodbye with a peck on the cheek.
“Okay, Teyam,” you softly smiled in return.
He had walked you back to the lab and as much as you both stalled already, it was time to part ways. The upcoming Blood Moon tonight meant an early goodbye for the day. You two have been dating for months now, and the future Olo’eyktan has made it clear he wants to be mates with you, only when you were ready. However, it is not always easy handling your differences between your two species. Like tonight, for example; all the other Na’vi could participate in the night of the Blood Moon but you couldn’t, you’d be ripped apart and possibly killed. So, Neteyam made sure you were safe and sound back in your room in the lab complex well before nighttime settled in. He couldn’t have his little paskalin get eaten by the wolves.
Neteyam missed you at dinner but he knew it was for the best. He wanted nothing more than to keep you safe. Safe from the others and even himself. He didn’t know what he would be capable of doing to you. He didn’t even wanna be anywhere near his family, so he set off deep into the forest.
It was now eclipse and the Moon made its appearance. The moonlight made his skin tingle and he watched in bewilderment as his skin faded from azure to a milky gray. Though this happens every year, it never fails to bring an unsettling feeling of not having control over the effects. His breaths quickened and he felt strength and power spread through his limbs, creating the urge to break something. His little bioluminescent freckles turned to red speckles, much like the red irises he now possessed. His brain was processing the physical changes to his body as well as the feelings and urges that flooded his mind. His tongue felt his sharper canines and he thirsted for blood. Not just any blood though, your blood. He imagined your human blood would be much sweeter than anything else here. He knew his right mind was slipping away when his body naturally started carrying him in the direction of you.
He forcefully entered the lab and went straight to your room. Opening the door carefully, as to not wake you.
You were peacefully sleeping away, probably having sweet dreams. In the very back of his mind he knew he shouldn’t disturb you— knew he shouldn’t wake you and then watch you be terrified of the way he looked right now. But his instincts consumed him and controlled his thoughts now. He had to have you.
Walking over carefully, he noticed you were wearing a loose tank top, exposing much of your skin. He slowly lifted the cover off of your body and was met with the precious sight of you only wearing panties for bottoms. You were so sweet and small to him, your dainty little night clothes driving him absolutely insane. You were too good to be true in his opinion.
He gently slid his hand over your legs and arms, loving how soft and plush your smooth skin was. You moved some in your sleep, still not noticing him yet. He tried to keep his breathing in control by breathing in his nose and out his mouth quietly.
“So beautiful, yawne,” he whispered admiringly.
He started kneading your flesh, getting extremely aroused by you. He wanted nothing more than to dig his sharp canines into your skin and bite you—hopefully drawing some blood. But he needed you to wake up first so you wouldn’t be scared and flee from him.
He softly shook your form, beckoning you to wake up. You slowly stirred out of your slumber and your eyes blinked open—only to see those red eyes staring back at you. You jumped back at the sight of him and gasped.
“Shh, shh, it’s okay baby, it’s me!” He tried to calm you.
“T-Teyam?” You choked out weakly, “You’re n-not supposed to be here” your mind quickly registered.
“I know, I know, and I’m sorry, but I couldn’t stop myself from coming to see you… you’ll have to forgive me for what I’m going to do”
Your body was stiff and your eyes were full of concern for what he meant and what he might do to you in this state. But you slowly nodded as you relaxed some because it was still your Teyam and you trusted him.
“You look so pretty, baby,” he cooed while stroking your cheek tenderly. You smiled in return, still feeling a bit hesitant.
Then suddenly he leaned back down to your thighs and latched his teeth onto one of them.
“Teyam!!!!” You flew up to sit upright on the bed and looked at him. The pain of his canines impaling your skin combined with the pleasurable feeling of his warm mouth overwhelmed the nerves on your skin.
He only hummed and moaned on your flesh in response. You slightly winced, still staring at him in bewilderment. Then he smoothed his tongue over the wound, licking away the blood from the little pricks he made. He pulled back to admire his work, loving how his bite now marked you as his.
“Don’t think I can’t smell you, sevin. You liked it, didn’t you?” He smirked.
You blushed, still feeling confused at the mix of pain and pleasure and how it really did turn you on. You nodded and got out a weak “yeah..”
This only aroused him more. He wanted to see how you’d look writhing under him as he pleasured your pussy while marking other parts of your body. So he lifted your legs up to your chest and slid your panties to the side to see your glistening little cunt.
“Fuck baby. I might have to bite you more from now on,” he gloated.
He slowly pushed a finger into you and you moaned at the sensation, your head already swirling from the intense pleasure he gave you. He started pumping the digit, stating in awe at the mess you made and the loud squelching sounds.
He hovered over you and positioned himself closer to your face, connecting your lips in a needy kiss. You greedily took the kiss, tongues swirling and your lips getting all puffy. He moved down to your neck and latched onto it, pulling out a guttural moan from you. He hummed in the satisfaction of tasting your sweet blood again and it turned him on more, so he mindlessly dry humped your side and the bed, dying to get some kind of friction for his cock.
His efforts made you cum on his fingers, spewing out whimpers and moans in the process. He was still cleaning your neck wound while you were coming down from the high.
It seemed that having a taste of you only made him want more.
It was going to be a long night.
Taglist: @neteyamssyulang @bambithewriter @professional-yapper @property-of-neteyam @hidden-snow @live-laugh-neteyam @nonamevenus @loakstahni @ikeyniofthetayrangi @sugarsong78 @inolaphoenix @strongheartneteyam
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devieuls · 10 months
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ˋ Love Lessons .
Neteyam Sully x Omatikaya Reader ( ONE SHOT )
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Synopsis : After years of friendship, you realize that you have fallen in love with your best friend Neteyam, but you decide to keep your crush to yourself, afraid of ruining your relationship. The only thing that gave you any comfort was the fact that Neteyam was not interested in any woman, until one day he asks you for advice to make his crush understand that he is interested in her.
Warning : SMUT MDNI - Bites, oral sex, canines, hickeys, unprotected sex, outdoor sex, light dirty talk, foreplay…
Lenght : 5k
Notes : I don’t know, I feel like I could have done better. There are some smut parts that I liked more than others, but I don’t know. I think I’ll do it again later, I also tried to contain myself in detail (as a test, but I think I will continue to write with many details)
NETEYAM: 22 y.o / Y/N: 20 y.o
NA'VI WORDS : TANHI: Star / Bioluminescent freckles; KARYU: Teacher
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As long as you can remember, Neteyam Sully has always been the person closest to you, covering your back every time you created trouble in the Omatikaya clan or got into trouble with your own family. Fortunately your parents trusted Neteyam blindly, after all he was the son of the Olo'eykte and as he grew up, his reputation grew with him, making him worthy of the trust of the whole clan. You could consider him your best friend, who understood and appreciated your rebellious spirit and so contrasted with his, creating a perfect balance in your relationship, as one gave the other what one lacked.
When you were younger it seemed easier to see you only as friends, but when you came of age you found it difficult to see Neteyam only as a friend. You had to admit that he had become a handsome Na'vi, an excellent warrior and probably the definition of perfection in the flesh, always teasing him about things like "You are Eywa’s favorite" and similar phrases. It was a fact that Neteyam excelled at everything he experimented with, so much so that he was the first Na'vi of his group to complete his Iknimaya on the first try, so you assumed he was perfect at everything. You never tried to make him understand your true feelings, intimidated by the fact that he would probably reject you and drive you away, ruining a friendship that lasted for years. So you arrived at the age of twenty with a huge crush on your best friend, watching in silence as the young Na'vi attached to him and flirted to become his companion and one day Tsahìk. You were heartened that he never told you about a particular girl, so you weren’t afraid to lose him yet, not wanting to realize that one day it’ll be too late to come out.
"Yn? Why are you so thoughtful?" Neteyam asked you as you walked through the forest, to reach your secret place where you two spent most of your time. "Mh? A-Ah, nothing, I was just seeing if there were fruits around to collect and take with us" You replied, smiling at the Na'vi near you, trying to drive away all the thoughts that haunted your mind. "Are you sure? If you need to talk to me about something, here I am, you know ma Tanhì" His sweet and caring voice was just one of many curses that didn't help your arduous feat of not thinking of him as a possible partner, but only as a childhood friend. "Yes" you hissed, forcing a smile and then turning away from him, bringing it back on the path before you. You kept walking for a few minutes and then you stopped because of Neteyam who got stuck in his footsteps. You looked at him worried, thinking that he had stepped on a poisonous animal that created paralysis or something like this, but then he turned to you with an embarrassed and shy look. "Ma Tanhì… can I ask you something?" he asked nervously, while scratching the back of his neck, noticing a slight veil of redness on his cheeks. "Umh… yes, tell me" you answered, approaching him, trying to figure out what question might embarrass him this way. "How do you get a girl?" The question hit you directly where it would hurt you most. "I-I mean, I’m asking you because you’re my only female friend, and I know asking Kiri would be the same as being mocked by all my siblings, and my mom isn’t the type to make that clear, saying things like 'follow your heart' or 'be yourself', so… I was hoping to hear it from you," he continued shyly.
At that moment all your beliefs collapsed like a house of cards, realizing that it was now too late even to mention that you had a crush on him. You didn’t react right away, your heart weighed so much that it crushed your lungs, taking away your ability to speak. After a few seconds you began to laugh, hiding your pain behind this action, hoping that Neteyam would not notice from your eyes that you were hurt. "The mighty warrior Neteyam, son of the Olo'eyktan and golden boy of the Omatikaya clan does not know how to get a girl? Really?" You asked ironically, knowing perfectly well that every girl in the clan would fall at his feet with a simple smile or greeting. "Neteyam, knowing you, you’ll just need to introduce yourself to this girl and she’ll be at your feet." your voice was a little tougher but sincere. You started walking in the forest followed by Neteyam who was trying to keep your quick step. "Let’s say she’s not like the other girls, this girl probably doesn’t even see me… Or if she does, she doesn’t do it the way I would" Unknowingly Neteyam was stabbing your heart repeatedly with those words. "Neteyam, c'mon. All the village women have a crush on you, you are the ideal type of all, so I doubt that 'this girl' doesn't see you as you would like" You snort while moving the plants to walk, feeling the look of Neteyam burn on your back and then sigh. "I’m telling you, that’s it. Y/n, you’re my…best friend, help me. Please, I promise I’ll cover you with your parents when you run off in the middle of the night, whatever you want" his desperate voice made you laugh, having never heard he beg like this.
"And you’ll have to take Tuk and my little sister Popiti out whenever they want. Plus, you will accompany me and Kiri to collect beads and objects in the forest" You turned to him suddenly, finding him a few inches away from your body. backing up because of the short distance between your bodies. "All right, will you help me?" he lowered his voice quietly, looking you in the eye while waiting for your answer. "Yes… Tell me about this girl." You back off before you start walking again, trying to calm your heart that was starting to run in your chest. Your tone was slightly cold, you didn’t really want to hear him talk about his crush, but as his friend you couldn’t even back out, not after he was always there for you. "Well, she’s… you know…" he began in a dreamy, excited tone, following the direction you were taking. "Perfect. There’s not much else to describe her with. She’s different from all the girls I’ve ever met, she’s kind, caring, and she loves being with kids. I know she’s a rebellious spirit and she likes to make things. is perfect, then her hair-" you stopped him before he could continue to describe her and go into pseudo-romantic details like the smell of her hair or the sound of her laughing. "That’s enough, I could throw up if you started listing the physical characteristics too" Neteyam laughed embarrassedly, remaining behind you. "Have you already come out? Or have you at least made her think you’re interested?" Your voice became slightly gloomy, and then stopped once you arrived at your secret place.
The place was lovely, you had found it as children and from that day had become your place, there was a small waterfall that created a kind of crystalline lake that connected to a small river hidden by high plains and thick nature. You and Neteyam sat on the grass to talk more comfortably. "No, I don’t know how to tell her or make her understand… I thought it would be easier, but every time I try, she doesn’t understand it or she starts laughing thinking that maybe I’m joking" he sighed heavily, and then he looks up to the sky. "And how did you 'try'?" Your eyes met his, trying to help him in some way, even if you would have preferred to do the opposite. You still had to realize that Neteyam could fail in something as easy as courtship. "Lo'ak told me to show interest, to be empathetic and to be myself, but all this I already did. My mother said that showing myself confident would be attractive, but I’m confident and direct in words, and showing respect." Neteyam dropped on his back and snorted, clearly frustrated by the situation, which you also noticed from the nervous oscillation of his tail "'Teyam, I know no one more respectful than you, as I said, you would be the perfect mate for any girl in the village." You admitted looking at the guy who was now lying next to you, unable to look away from his sculpted body, following every line of his body, enchanted by how his chest rose and lowered with every breath.
"Then what do I do… Why doesn’t she understand? It’s obvious that I’m doing something wrong in the courtship, ma Tanhì" his head turned towards you, looking at you while you were sitting and watching him, making him blush slightly. "Maybe start complimenting her, girls love that. Put your hand in her hair when you talk to her, like moving a strand behind her ear, looking for physical contact makes understand your intentions, especially by the way you do it. Oh! Make her laugh, if you can make her laugh, surely you have done most of the work" your voice was bitter in your throat, you were hating giving that kind of advice knowing that he would use them with who knows who. Neteyam as he watched you listening attentively and taking mental notes of what you advised him. " And be attentive to the details, what interests her etc… if you remember important events in her life or what she loves to do, it is a clear sign of interest. Plus if you have common interests, could you do it together, for example, she likes hunting?" he looked at you enchanted for a few seconds, then nodded and said "Yeah, she likes it" his voice lowered slightly, as he looked at you, hoping that you would understand. "Well, you can ask her to hunt with you. You’re a great hunter, you’ll definitely impress her. And then… umh, I don’t know, maybe be present in her days, even with a greeting, maybe looking for her look or bringing her something you know she might like. And be direct, let her know that you like her, maybe you take her and tell her, you create the right atmosphere… yeah, you know… things like that" You looked away from Neteyam’s, feeling a strong twinge in your heart that made it hard to speak again, feeling as if I had helped him get away from you. "What if she doesn’t understand it? she’s a good friend, and I don’t know if she’ll reciprocate" You clenched your jaw, maybe understanding who that girl was. Your mutual friend had been acting weird with you for weeks, and Neteyam was acting strangely the same way. Now all the dots were connecting in your mind. " He will understand, if you will be directed with there is another way. If it is not a skxawng. In case you make yourself heard and give her special attentions." You said with clenched teeth, unable to hide the annoyance anymore.
"Ma Tanhì," he whispered, approaching you, sitting again just to lay two fingers under your chin, turning your face towards him. Your noses brushed lightly as his eyes rolled down your lips. "And as actions?… what should I do?" his hoarse voice struck you in a strange way the back and the lower abdomen. "U-umh… Maybe you should… w-well" The breath died in your throat, going to create a knot that pushed down all the words that were going to come out of your lips. " Hmm? I should what, ma Tanhi?" your noses rubbed against each other again, and for a few seconds you deluded yourself that he wanted to kiss you, perhaps failing to realize what was happening. His eyes returned to yours, making you feel a flock of Sturmbeest in your belly. "L-like… kissing her" You whispered with a thread of voice, while his free hand went to move behind your ear some strands of hair, then caress your cheek with his thumb. You swallowed loudly, noticing how Neteyam’s eyes seemed so concentrated in yours, leaving you amazed. "Should I?" His words made you take a deep breath, feeling suddenly weak. "You should…" Neteyam’s smile caught your eyes, staring at his opened lips, which received a mischievous smirk. "Yes, I should."
Suddenly a strong heat hit your body, causing your heart to pump as much blood as possible into your veins as your cheeks burned. Neteyam’s lips met yours, his hands moved from your face to hold the sides of your neck, pressing the thumbs on your jaw. You stood by that unexpected approach, and then only realized it when Neteyam’s tongue pounded against your lips and welcomed it into your mouth. You felt his sweet taste because of the fruit that you both had eaten just before walking into the forest, you moaning in his lips trying to break away from the passionate kiss to catch your breath. Neteyam bit your lip, pulling it with his fangs, now moving his hands between your hair and around your waist, pressing your head against his lips making you groan as your flickering fingers grazed the hard skin of his abdomen. His warm skin contracting under your fingers, as if you were made of pure fire, so much so that when you felt more confident of yourself and your body, you sat on top of him. Your legs tied to his pelvis, squeezing him to you as he did to your body, shuddering when his hand that was once on his waist was now climbing up your bare back, making you arch your body like a cat. You trembled when he came off your lips with a snap that accompanied the sound of the waterfall shattering against the surface of the water, making you pant and gasp to regain the air you had lost. Your red face and half-closed eyes while Neteyam pressed your fingertips on your body.
You feared, for a second, that everything would be over after that kiss and that the embarrassment would lead you two to stay away, but your fears were swept away when you tried to get up from his legs and Neteyam prevented you, starting to kiss your jaw. In silence your bodies were calling each other, you felt the pressure of his whole being against you and new electric shocks hit your back. His soft, moist lips drew wet kisses on your jaw, starting to bite and suck down your neck as your head bent backwards, keeping your eyes half closed. His tongue was even more raw with your already sensitive neck, rough and greedy explored every inch of your skin, occasionally pressing his canines, panting raucously as he savored you. Letting sweet moans come out of your throat in despair as your fingers crawled into his braids, seeking comfort. The curious and hungry eyes of Neteyam studied your skin, feeling contentment in feeling the trembling and shivers he caused you, enjoying your heavy breaths and the noises you made to contain the moans, as if you could be ashamed of something he was trying to hear with such desperation. Your back gently collided against the grass when Neteyam stretched you under him, sliding his lips down your body, as his fingers gently removed the braided top that covered your breasts, as if to give you time to stop him if you wanted. Your eyes rolled backwards as his rough tongue collided against your nipple, and his hand crept in agonizing slowly between your legs, caressing it. You bit your lip violently when you felt the gentle and circular movements of his thumb on your clitoris, feeling the chills come down and hit right where Neteyam was playing with his fingers.
The red cheeks began to burn on your face, as you carried a hand to your mouth to force you not to let him hear your stifled moans, even if your hot body betrayed you. A smothered scream of pleasure instinctively came out of your lips when Neteyam’s fingers slid very easily into you. You suddenly felt airless, your eyes wide open and your body trembling, eager to hear what else he had in store for you. Neteyam’s hoarse laugh made your tail stand on end behind you, while the tip of your head swelled because of excitation, making you blush even more. "No need to be embarrassed, it’s normal that you like this, ma Tanhì" he whispered against your skin, making you arch your back again because of his rough pumping on your breasts. "Shh, baby, just… enjoy the moment and let me hear how much you like it" Neteyam’s voice was getting lower and slower, more sensual, knowing that you would like this. Swallow loudly when Neteyam made his way up to your thighs, leaving behind a trail of burning wet kisses, accompanying his movements with his fingers firmly inside you, which continued to move as if they were waves, making your legs tremble. Your sensitive breasts made you shudder because of the light breeze and saliva that the boy had left on the tip, and when you lowered your head to look for his eyes, you found him blowing against the bundle of nerves that yearned to be satisfied. You once again felt his tongue but this time he was working through your needy folds, loving the way one of his muscles could make you feel all that ecstasy. You whined as your hands went to clench the soft grass to find a foothold to release the frustration of too much pleasure, dropping your head backwards, hoping to muffle as much as possible your desperate moans. Neteyam looked for your face, eager to notice the impatience of your eyes and watch your face become a mess just for him, with the aim of giving you as much pleasure as possible, wanting to feel you up to bring you orgasm. He started savoring your intimacy, tickling your folds with the tip of your tongue, making you grunt as you clenched your teeth. When he started sucking, you felt something break in you, you couldn’t even cover your mouth as you groaned his name without shame, watching as he was focused on feeding on your excitement. Your hand again found place in his hair, pulling them and accompanying his movements as he gave you pleasure. "Look how wet you are for me, you wanted me so badly?" Neteyam said with sensual voice, between a lick and a lukewarm breath to make you shiver and whimping.
Your legs began to feel tired and heavy around his cheeks, trying to close together to stop feeling that tingling and flickering caused by too much pleasure. Neteyam wrapped his big hands around your thighs, opening them wider, locking them as much as possible against the ground below as his fingers sank into your soft flesh. His jaw continued to move between your legs with a heartbreaking rhythm that went from slow and gentle to rude and fast, making your walls tighten around his wet muscle. Neteyam broke away from you when he felt that your intimacy was wet enough not to make you feel pain when he slips inside you. His eyes peered at your body beneath him, still trembling and sensitive, touching your already sweaty skin, worshipping how you writhed and gasped under him. You could only take courage later, drawing him to your lips after your fingers hooked to the necklace on his neck. You tasted your own intrinsic moods in your best friend’s saliva as you embraced his body between your legs, rubbing his covered intimacy with your naked, feeling him grunting in your mouth. You smiled as you felt him vulnerable above you, taking advantage of that moment to put yourself on top of him, your back arched toward him to allow you to continue the kiss that was giving relief to both of you. You began to rub yourself on his still-covered sex, feeling pleasure when his throbbing muscle found space in your heat, moaning with pleasure, as your hands on his chest could feel the contractions and chills running through his body as well.
"Hmhm, I know something you’d like to try." Neteyam said as he wrapped his hands around your bare hips, observing the red and purple spots that covered your body. "What?" you whispered in response, as you detached yourself from his lips, observing him with ardent desire. One of his hands came up on your face, placing three fingers on your jaw and thumb on your lips, caressing your soft mouth, and then gently tapping on it. "Open." he ordered. His eyes following your every move, worshipping the way you obeyed him by opening your mouth and taking his thumb in your mouth, without breaking eye contact. You instinctively began to lick and suck his finger greedily, whining as you felt the slightly salty taste against your tongue. "Good girl, you already understood" Neteyam continued, as his hand on his side began to explore every inch of your body with desire. The Na'vi lowered you to the height of his loincloth and you smiled before taking your face away from where Neteyam was leading you, back on his face, sliding his salivated thumb out of his mouth. "Hmhm, here I decide, 'Teyam" you whispered to his ear, noticing with the corner of your eye his jaw contracted as your fingers find their way under his loincloth, just after picking up some of your moods still dripping from your intimacy, wrapping your phalanges around his needy manhood. You heard him growl after panting because of your touch, his chest rising and the frustrated breath of his nostrils against your neck, making you smile for the effect you had on him. Your hand began to slide up and down his erection with gradual speed, you felt his hoarse and rough groans against your skin, his hands clasping your thighs and his breathless breaths. Your lips went to tease the shell of his ear, leaving some magnate kisses or slight licks. When you felt quite satisfied with how he was also pining under you, you lowered yourself making sure you kept eye contact. Your hand went to move and later rip off his loincloth; Neteyam bit his lip and then groaned deeply when your mouth wrapped around his glans, starting to tease the tip with your tongue. Your head slid along his entire length to completely conceal it, immediately moving the head with greed, making him hiss and wince under you. The vein of his penis pulsed incessantly against the inside of your cheek, as he bit his lip and carried a hand to collect your hair in a tight vise.You felt his erection collide several times against the deepest point of your throat, letting you fuck your mouth by Neteyam, before breaking off with tears of pleasure sliding on your face. Your lips swollen and reddened, covered with drool as you tried to start breathing regularly sent him into ecstasy.
The pre-cum that came out of Neteyam’s sex illuminated your lips, making him turn on more to the vision of you with swollen and dirty lips of him. He took you by the hair and carried you back under him, and then he opened your legs and slid inside you with a facility that you would not have expected. You moaned breathlessly as his hips collided with yours in that way, carrying your hands against his back, beginning to scratch and tighten his skin with need. Your cheeks reddened that welcomed other lukewarm tears, your legs tight around his pelvis and the strong heat that at each push accumulated inside you. His tail wrapped around your heel, holding you still due to spasms of pleasure. Neteyam’s hoarse groans did not delay in striking your ears, as he held you by the hips, caressing your trembling thighs and twitching at each of his lunges. Your sweaty bodies colliding with every little movement, making you more hot and eager to consume you. Your lips met once again, growling at each other every time Neteyam pushed against your G-spot, your willows stirring each other’s hormones still stuck in your mouths. You bit his lips when he began to push and grind inside you shamelessly, growling at him before whining, making him excite even more as he purposely struck where your walls held him tighter due to sensitivity. You felt Neteyam’s body stiffen and twitching above you just before reaching orgasm and pouring out of you in time, then carrying two fingers inside you and starting to pump until you reach your peak shortly after him.
You whimpered loudly after the strong orgasm that mercilessly hit you; your heavy, sore thighs as your orgasm crashed into him and hot splashes of your cum poured over his hand. He gasped entranced, stunned by the lust and how your body looked so soft and relaxed after cumming. You took long deep breaths, looking at the green leaves so far away from you because of the trees too high, the sun that lightly struck the place where you were made you return to reality. You blush when Neteyam lays next to you, looking up at him too.
"Well, then…" He started, while you recovered with your hand the pieces of clothes to cover yourself again, hoping that you both would turn a blind eye. "Hmm…" You whine while avoiding his gaze with all your heart. "Do you think after all this, you realize I have a crush on you? If even this way you don’t understand that I like you, I don’t know what other kind of attention to give you to make it clear" he said casually. You shuddered and looked at him in shock. "Excuse you?" you whispered not really wanting to understand the meaning of his words. "I say, did you understand that you are the girl I was trying to conquer?" Your eyes met and you swallowed. "I don’t know how to ask you more directly than that, and don’t think I’m not afraid to ruin our friendship. But I like you, not just aesthetically, i love every part of you. I’ve been trying to make you understand this for six years, not that I didn’t like you as a child…" His voice was slightly shaky, as you watched him in silence, trying to figure out how to respond. "You never let me know…" you whispered as you blushed. Neteyam laughed and led you to lean on his chest, wrapping your body with arms "You really are a skxawng, ma Tanhì. I’m supposed to be teaching you. But how to figure out that someone has a crush on you." You hit him blushing while hiding your face on his chest. "Yeah, yeah, lessons from a guy who doesn’t even know how to come out and only does it after having sex with his crush. The great Karyu, Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan" You teased him and then got pinched on the hips by his hands. "Not that you ever noticed I’ve had a crush on you for ages." Neteyam looked at you perplexed, and you couldn’t contain the laughter.
"See? Other than 'lessons'. You’re more Skxawng than I am, ma 'Teyam."
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦     ˚     . ★⋆. ࿐࿔   .     ˚     *     ✦   .  .   ✦ ˚  
TAG LIST : @riatesullironalite @shadowmoonlight0604
2K notes · View notes
pandoraslxna · 4 months
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❄️ Kinkmas — 06. Thigh Fucking ❄️
Lo‘ak x female human reader
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⋆。° ✮ Minors dni 🔞
⋆。° ✮ Kinkmas Masterlist
⋆。° ✮ Warnings: size difference, thigh job, praise, squirting, not my best work lol
⋆。° ✮ Translation: tanhì = star, bioluminescence freckle
⋆。° ✮ (tw: irl porn) Inspired by this because I love the position they’re in 😏
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The size thing wasn’t... well, it wasn’t entirely unexpected. But it was a problem.
"Eywa, you feel so good", you hear him mutter, and in an instant you’re on each other, kissing rough and deep, less tender than before. Lo‘ak slides a hand through your hair at the back of your head, and it sends a jolt of arousal through your body. But you need more, need his hand fisted in it, need both of you wearing less clothes. So you start tugging at his cummerbund, his loincloth, but he can’t bring himself to undress just yet. Instead, he waits for your patience to run out first, as it always does.
It’s cute, the way you whine into the kiss. The way you stand on your tiptoes to even reach him and he still has to bend down to return the kiss.
It’s not much longer before Lo‘ak finally gives in and pulls back, and you feel your face flush when you make a soft, disappointed noise at the loss. You don’t have much time to really be embarrassed though, because Lo’ak is tearing off your shirt, just as desperate to have nothing between you. He hurries to follow suit, ignoring how he almost rips his loincloth in two just to get his clothes off as fast as possible. As soon as they’re off, carelessly tossed aside, the two of you are drawn back to each other.
Lo‘ak crowds you against the wall behind you. Your bare back making contact with the cold surface would normally make you hiss, but you can’t really bring yourself to care when he is kissing you like this, pressing your bodies together so tightly. Lo‘ak is hard, rubbing against your stomach, almost big enough to reach from navel to chest, smearing his bioluminescence pre-cum against your skin, and you can’t stop the needy sounds from escaping even if you tried.
It’s just not enough. It never is, but at some point in your relationship you both figured that this will have to do.
You pull back just enough to get out a desperate, “Lo‘ak please”, and like always, he reads you easily, perfectly in sync.
"Shh, I got you, tanhì", is all he says before he spins you around.
His dick is throbbing at this point, dripping pre-cum on the floor, while your thighs are starting to feel wetter by the second. You feel messy, and you love it, need Lo‘ak to just wreck you, but it also hurts to know that he can’t do it in the way you crave.
It’s almost torturous, it’s not enough, and you’re so turned on you can hardly stand it, dazed and breathing heavily. You just need him so bad, you need him inside but he’s just so big. Too big.
You’re on the verge of begging, buzzing with anticipation, need, waiting for him to hurry up and do something. When you glance back, Lo‘ak is flushed all over, eyes dark and chest heaving, and you can’t help but lick your lips when you see his dick standing proud and tall between his legs.
The size wasn’t really unexpected to you, not even the very first time, but seeing him like this still never fails to amaze you. You want him bad.
And Lo’ak is just as desperate as you are.
You’re so distracted by the sight of his throbbing cock that you almost don’t notice the hand being shoved in your face.
"Spit", he says and fuck, his voice is rough, breathless, and you could listen to it forever. You do as instructed, and Lo‘ak pulls his hand back to slick himself up with your spit and you feel yourself clenching down on nothing. A painful reminder of being so empty, when there was something to fill you up to the brim right in front of your eyes.
Lo’ak then lifts you up by your hips like a doll, to make this easier for him, gets your hips at the same height as his, and you reach your palms out flat against the wall, while he positions himself.
He breathes out a quiet "fuck" when he pushes his cock between your thighs, sliding through the wet mess he was responsible for, and both of you exhale a shuddering moan.
Lo‘ak starts thrusting immediately, hands gripping your hips tightly, setting a fast pace. The sound of skin slapping against skin, the feeling of Lo’ak using your body, fucking you, so painfully close to where you really needed him— it’s almost too much, and you drop your head, panting and moaning. You can’t help but whimper at the feeling of his big cock sliding through your sensitive thighs and wet folds, making you feel every throbbing vein.
"Touch yourself for me, tanhì", Lo‘ak says between pants, voice strained, and you find yourself obeying without even thinking about it.
The instant you bully a hand between your thighs and start rubbing on your neglected clip, you cry out in relief— god, you really needed this.
After that, you feel like you’re hurtling towards the edge. It’s getting harder and harder to hold yourself up with one hand on the wall, against Lo’aks merciless thrusting. You’re just glad your legs are helplessly dangling in the air, because you know for a fact that you wouldn’t be able to stand with the sheer force of a grown Na‘vi using your thighs as some sort fleshlight.
"Fuck, tanhì, baby", Lo‘ak groans behind you, and you feel his forehead coming to rest on your shoulder. The grip on your hips tightens some more and he alternates between thrusting his cock and moving you along his shaft. "S-So good, it feels so good. Can feel your little pussy dripping all over me", he stammers, breathing heavily. "Gonna make me c-cum."
"Lo’ak", you mewl and cry out at the onslaught of sensations, "I’m close, I’m close, don’t stop!"
"Come for me, c‘mon", he moans so close to your ear you can feel his hot breath against your skin, "Need you to come on my cock, baby. Fucking drench me, show me how bad you want me inside you."
Lo‘ak then shoves a hand between your thighs, swatting your own away. The tips of his fingers start to push and rub against the twitching little nub between your folds so hard it felt like he just shifted it from it’s original position. Your legs clamped shut tighter than before, squeezing his cock that was still thrusting in and out between your soft, wet flesh, and that’s when you couldn’t hold it any longer.
Your orgasm shudders through you, leaves you gasping for air as you come in a slick gush, soaking his hand and cock, and that’s when you feel Lo‘aks hips stutter with a gruff, quiet whisper of “fuuuck.”
He was drinking up every sweet little moan and gasp he elicited out of you like this, groaning and lapping his tongue against your shoulder while he pumped his seed through the space of your legs as it spurted from his throbbing cock, splattering on the floor.
You’re just lucky for Lo‘aks arm being wrapped around your middle in a tight hold, because you suddenly feel too weak to hold your arms up, fucked out despite not even getting fucked properly, and buzzing with the afterglow of an intense orgasm.
Both of you are quiet for a moment, still catching your breaths, until Lo‘ak leans forward to press a kiss to the back of your neck and you smile.
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antiwhores · 2 years
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I need another part to bakugous partner with a mask. Like what would happen if he found out it was her that he’s passed in the street so many times? Also ur writing is amazing!
Bakugou’s sidekick with a mask - Part 2.
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Yall going crazy on this shit so you already KNOW i got you with a part two. Also thank you very much 💪🏾 there was more requests but tumblr only allows 10 pics. This shit took so long help me bruh. I felt like I should get a little more heartfelt to complete this. Enjoy and shit.
Bakugou has never seen your face in the 3 years of you being his sidekick. No one has, not even the coworkers. As his crush on you manifests into something more, so does his need to see what’s behind that mask. Little does he know he’s seen you bare faced before. He goes running for answers and love.
Dryhumping/masturbation (quickly mentioned), tiniest bit of angst, insecurities, make out sessions, fluff, love shit, good endings frfr, cute shit, read it pls it took so long.
Tags: @jazzylove @justagirlthatlikesanime @ktc1001 @kunkunieee @theacademix @dracosapples @ahahadumbo @ghostwasnothere4u @ruther-furd @gardenofedensbooks @dynamightsdaydream @sam-chwan @coldnachodreamer @izukusgirlfriend
Part one 👇🏾👇🏾👇🏾
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Bakugou never thought that in his hero years he’d be obsessing about anything other than being number 1. But now he’s obsessing over the possibility of seeing his sidekicks face, and even fucking kissing it.
Bakugou’s curiousity started to paw at his mind, and worst of all, his work preformance. He would find himself spacing out, trying to imagine what you looked like.
Did you have small lips? Big? Was your nose plump or skinny? What kind of facial expressions did you make? What shape are your eyebrows? Do you have freckles or dimples? Maybe you blush chronically. Maybe you think you’re ugly so you cover yourself up. Maybe you think you’re deathly hot so you cover yourself up for protect
He started to look at you more often during patrols and fights. He should be looking for sudden attacks or danger, sure, but the most dangerous thing to him currently is the possibility of missing your face if it was flashed mistakenly.
He starts to notice the little things about you. Like how your costume fits you and how it highlights your personality. You tilt your head to the side slightly when you’re confused. Sometimes you reach up to scratch your nose but you sigh when you realize that you’re covered up. Sometimes you touch him with familiarity and care laced into your palms. An arm pat, shoulder pat, hair scruffle (when he’s sitting down), a forehead touch to check his temperature, a hand rub when he’s about to blow up, etc.
He feels bad for how those touches make him feel.
You come up to him one day to give him a report on the mission you guys are about to be assigned to. You throw yourself on his spare chair, sighing heavily and dramatically like you always do.
He glances at you before clicking his tongue and looking back down at his papers. “Don’t be rough on my damn chairs.” You roll your eyes, “Sorry Grandma.”
He dismisses your comment with a scoff and a half hearted glare. You get up and start to do your daily, pointless rounds of his room. You touch everything that you could reach from the windows to his desk. He’s asked you why you do this everytime before but you can’t answer questions that you don’t know.
“What do you have for me?”He turned around to face you. You notice the creasing of his eyebrows and the eyebags to match. You wondered if he was stressed over the rise of crime and work. You definitely were and you weren’t the boss of an agency.
“We’ve gotta go out on Thursday afternoon for a special mission. Very important mission too. They said they’d cut off your left toe and skin me if we failed.” You lied about that last part, it was just something to ease the mood. He only sighed, completely ignoring the last comment. Weird. “Damn, that was my shitty scheduled break.”
You began to feel even worse for him. His shoulders were stiff and his arms rubbed his temples roughly. You tried to think of ways to fix this. What would a loving and caring, none sarcastic, friend do? You didn’t know, you were an idiot, so you guessed
You did the first thing that came to mind that wasn’t slightly rude. You bent down and wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug.
He was startled as hell, you were pretty sure he almost hit you when his reflexes kicked in. “H-Hah? What’re you doing?!” He was stiff around your arms and his hands hovered away from you like you were acidic.
“Im giving you a hug, you dumb ass bitch.” His breath hitched in his throat when you buried your face into his neck. He smelt good, sweet and earthy.
He’s ashamed to admit your innocent actions ended in him fisting himself whilst he moaned your name at 3 am. You were so warm and soft. You smelt so good too. He could feel you breath against him. The soft exhales tickled his neck so damn good. Its like he was intoxicated by the hug you gave him and he craved more. Way more than he could get by just being your boss.
He’s been starting to see that girl out lately. The one who almost died for some cheesecake.
She works as a server for a local cafe sometimes. He learns she has ties with the owners and just likes to help out.
When he first saw you again he forgot his entire order. Not cause you’re goregous (well maybe a little bit), but because he’d been interested in you after that day. He wanted to know if you made it out okay. He wanted to talk to you and degrade you for your stupid actions. He wanted to get to know you as a person. And most of all, he wanted to know where you got that good ass cheesecake.
“Can i get a Caramel Macchiato with no cream- THE FUCK?!“ When he looked up from his wallet you were casually taking his order. His lip curled, “WHAT?! YOU AGAIN?!”
You almost slipped up and responded back with a ‘HELL YEAH’ but you caught yourself. Bakugou was a smart cookie. If you spoke to him, he’d almost immediately know who you are. I mean, you’ve been speaking to him nonstop for years now. So instead you just gave him a thumbs up and a goofy smile.
After you took his order, he forced you to come sit with him during your lunchbreak. He proceeded to lecture you for about 45 minutes about safety and priorities. You just nodded aggressively, which he got mad at. He thought you were mocking him. You were, but it was still a rude assumption.
He left with his heart aflutter after you went back to work. He shouldn’t feel this attraction towards you. He was in love with another girl for Christ’s sake! Yet he couldn’t stop himself from coming every single day after that and making you sit with him so you two could communicate. Turns out, he knows sign language and so do you. So it works out in the end.
Your conversations are chaotic and random. Sometime they’re chill, sometimes they’re weird and utterly stupid.
‘So… like you don’t put toilet paper down when you pee in public restrooms?’
“No. You fucking dumbass. I don’t sit down when I pee. I have a dick.”
He starts to get suspicious of you and… you. Same race, same energy, same personality. Something was going on here and he was gonna piece it together.
So one day he talked to you about it.
“You know,” He began, eyeing you closely to look for a reaction. “You remind me of my sidekick, like a fucking lot.”
If you were lying, you were good at it cause the only thing he saw to indicate panic was an eyeshift. ‘Is she hot?’ You signed. He sighed, “I don’t fucking know. She never takes off her mask. No one knows what she looks like.” You took a sip of your tea slowly. ‘Thats crazy’
He didn’t think he could be any more attentive to you before this but life has a lot of suprises. He started to compare your habits to the coffee shop girl. He pieced things together until he was almost sure that it was you.
But then he wasn’t sure. Cause he saw the both of you in the same place.
He was at a distance but he could see well enough. His sidekick was there greeting and gifting something to his cafe girl.
He lost all hope that you two were the same person after that. He dropped the idea entirely.
Too bad he didn’t know that your friend wanted to try on your costume and you let her for fifty bucks and one of her infamous muffins. Shes built just like you so its an easy mix up lucky for you.
Bakugou continued his routine of chill time with cafe you and quality fun time with sidekick you.
Until one day, into the late 4 years of knowing each other, you both were at a party with some of the heros that Bakugou knew. He invited you cause he was planning on telling you how he felt. He couldn’t hold it in anymore. He didn’t need to see your face, he just wanted you to see him.
He forced you to come outside with him with the excuse that he needs you to give your stupid input on something. He took you to his car and started to drive away.
“What the hell? Bitch are you kidnapping me?” You giggled at his groan. “No idiot, I’m taking a break from everyone. And didn’t you say you needed someone to help you move in? Im gonna help.”
His eyes were focused on the road but he oh so wished to just look over and see your reaction for his own validation. You did recently move homes and ever since you’ve been complaining to Bakugou about all the work. Being the dumbass you are, you leaked your address to him casually like you couldn’t give less of a shit. And you didn’t.
“Theres not a lot of stuff left, you don’t have to-“ He clicked his tongue, gripping the steering wheel. You felt something was wrong. He was off. You knew your partner and he was never this… intense to you unless something was wrong.
“Well maybe I just want to!” His tone was harsh and impatient. Nothing new to anyone but it was out of place. Something was bothering him and you were sure of it.
His whole body tensed when you put your hand on his shoulder. “Katsuki,” The use of his first name faded out everything. It rolled off your tongue smoother than butter like you handcrafted it yourself. Usually you’d stick with a random nickname. Some of his highlighted ones are:
Mcdickens
Cucaracha cachonda (he had no idea what that mean not does he know how to speak Spanish but it sounds offensive
Katsu/Kat/Kugo(His favorites, its only used sometimes though)
Brian (He literally cannot explain this one, you just started calling him that and its so funny to you)
Big boss/boss man/ B-man
Homie hopper/whore/slut (He has never “homie hopped”, nor is he a whore, you just call him this to piss him off)
Twin (you look nothing alike.)
And many other names that come and go. But when he was really geniunely upset at you, its always his firstname.
“Whats wrong?” Your voice was soft but not in the pitying tone he hated, but the ‘Im not gonna break this moment’ way. You were always good at treating him like he wanted.
He pulled up in your driveway while you waited for him to speak. He couldn’t piece the words together even though he had spent days constructing them. You turned the car light on to illuminate the dark. You waited. Like you always have done for him.
“I just…“ He gave up on words, he was always better with actions anyway.
He grabbed your top and pulled you towards him. His eyes sqeezed shut so hard he started to see particles behind them. And he kissed you. He kissed you like there wasn’t a mask keeping you apart. Like the thing under his lips were yours and not fabric. And shit, kissing a literal mask felt way more exciting than he thought.
He pulled back away from you as quick as he was there. His blush was furious and he refused to look at your unmoving, stunned state.
The truth was, you liked him too. How could you not? He was your bestfriend, your best costumer, your best boss, and your best partner. He was your number 1.
So your unmoving state wasn’t because you didn’t reciprocate his feelings, like Bakugou was beginning to think, but because you were suprised that he would like you back.
You vowed to never confess to him. It wasn’t hard to admit he was out of your league. He was out of everyones league. He was carved like a greek god and looked like every single beauty standard was based off of him. One of the most desired men on the earth. Rich and famous. The number 2 hero. A symbol of victory and strength.
And you were a faceless hero that wasn’t even in the top 20. You weren’t ugly or even average but you also weren’t fucking godsent like him. You weren’t rich. And you hid behind a mask to avoid people reading you. The only way you got courage to talk to Bakugou as the real you was because he had no idea who you were. It was like talking to him with another mask on. You were still anonymous in a way. The mask made you confident and unbreakable. You couldn’t bring yourself to even think that he would like you back.
Was he playing you? He didn’t even know what you look like. How does he like you back? It made no sense.
Bakugou slammed his hand on the steering wheel, you jumped out of your thoughts at the bang. “Say something damn it!” “What’re you trying to do?” Your voice was unsteady and insecure. He had never heard that before, it stopped time.
“Are you trying to play a sick joke? Cause it’s not fucking funny to play with my feelings.” He was confused but you continued. “What? Did you find out that I liked you and decided to fuck with me?”
You didn’t know why you were getting so defensive. Insecurity placed with distrust you figured. “What? No-“ You interrupted him, “Well if you think you can just get me to sleep with you just so you can see under the mask than you’re wrong. Goodnight.”
You were overreacting. You couldn’t stop yourself. You were out of the car and stomping to your apartment before you could even register it. He was calling after you, demanding you come back and listen to him.
Reject before you get rejected.
You stomped to the door and unlocked it. You quickly shuffled in and attempted to slam the door. A large, strong hand stopped it halfway. He pushed himself inside and locked the door.
“What the fuck?!” “Would you just listen to me!?” He was yelling now, you wanted to cry.
He grabbed your shoulders, “I’m not doing this to see you without your damn mask!” He sounded offended, rightfully so. “I fucking love you, alright?!”
Your heart was racing and your eyes expanded behind the mask. You couldn’t believe it. Your feelings being recognized and returned seemed too damn easy. “What-“ “I’ve liked you for almost 3 years now! I just took long as hell to accept it! I do like you and I’ll put it on my fucking life!”
You were frozen in your spot between him. “But it doesn’t make sense. You’ve never seen my face-“ “Yeah well it’s a good thing you have a personality.” He sassed. “I can’t believe you’d think that I would use you like that!” You went into defense mode, “It was the only reasonable answer to me! I don’t know if you know this Katsuki but you’re way out of my fucking league.”
He has never been so offended from a compliment. He opened his mouth to say something, an insult maybe, but he closed it. “Do you like me y/n.”
It was more of a statement than a question. Like it wasn’t your choice to answer, he was demanding you to. Its in these moments you’re glad for the mask. You probably look so disgustingly vulnerable right now, it makes you sick. Who knew being confessed to by your long time crush would make you question your self worth.
You put your head down and smelled him. He was rather close to you now that you thought about it. He had you against a wall with his hands holding your shoulders in place.
Now or never, you thought.
You nodded to him- well more like to his shoes from the direction you were looking. He tilted your chin up to look him in the eyes. Were his eyes always that intense and bright?
“Words.” He commanded. Fuck, this was getting to hard. “I love you too… for four years now.” Your mouth was dry from the words. You felt exposed.
He was suprised, four years. Fucking wow. His heart was racing, maybe even faster than yours. He wanted to kiss you again. And he meant you, not the mask. But he was afraid that’d come off as your original theory of him doing this just to try and see you without the mask.
He flushed his body tight against yours, hugging his arms around your waist and burying himself into your neck. “Mmm,” He groaned, “I wanna kiss you so bad right now. I’ve been wanting to touch you like this for forever.”
You shivered at his words, a long yet short debate ran into your head. The results could be detrimental but whatever. When were you ever completely cautious? “Close your eyes.” Its like he was intoxicated by your proximity, he couldn’t think straight. He hummed a “hmm?” He wasn’t listening, he put his full focus into remembering this feelings of warmth and completeness.
“Katsuki, close you eyes.” It wasn’t timid this time, a demand. He couldn’t bring himself to care enough to argue with you when he was moving to the other side of your neck to inhale there too so he did as told.
He heard you rusting with your mask, pulling it up but not all the way. “Keep your eyes closed.” He could practically see the blush through your words. You grabbed his face lightly, practically pulling him from your neck.
He was about to complain but the feeling of your moisturized lips silenced him. The kiss was soft at first but he couldn’t hold himself back so it progressively got more heated. His tongue slipped into your mouth, ignoring your sharp inhale. You gasped when he picked you up and wrapped your legs around him.
Theres spit dribbling down your chin and you’re blushing so hard you start to think that the mask can’t even cover it.
His hands are placed on both of your asscheeks. He holds you up effortlessly, like you’re nothing but a feather to him. You flinch when his hands grip at your ass unintentionally. You accidentally rut your hips into his at the intimate touch.
Its like a switch was flipped when you did that. He groaned against your lips, a drawn out fuck excaping his mouth.
He had completely forgotten that he had to keep his eye closed when he pulled back. You squealed before covering up the bottom half of your face up again with your hands.
He looked startled as well, mutting a curse word before he put you down. “Fuck, my bad.” He wasn’t sorry. You looked away from him, “s’fine.” Where was all your condescending confidence?! This was starting to make you mad.
“Can I see?” It was blurted out before he could stop it. So much for respecting her boundaries.
You thought for a long moment. FUCK! You needed to man up! You needed to just take this leap and if you tumble, blame a higher power with no correlation whatsoever!
“Fine, needy bitch.” You mumbled. You slowly took away your hand to let him see. Even though it was only your lips, your heart was racing.
He didnt say anything for a long time, it worried you. His head was filled with thoughts.
Her lips. Do I know those lips? So pretty. I get those lips everyday. I wanna see the rest. Will she show me rest? Fuck. Shes so hot. Why am I going crazy over lips? She makes me crazy.
“Can I see the rest?” He was too far now not to ask. Even if you said no it was worth a try.
You thought for a long moment. He noticed that you press your lips together when you think. Fuck it, you thought.
You ripped the mask off so quickly that you had to close your eyes to adjust to the new sight.
He was speechless. You were fucking gorgeous. He didn’t know that he had a type but apparently his type was you. Your e/c eyes were now his favorite color. Everything fit on your face perfectly and you were more than he ever expected. You were his, someone who he’d look at everyday and still feel overwhelmed by their looks.
He couldn’t bring himself to speak with the way he oogled at you. The words were lost in his mouth again. After 4 fucking years he’s finally seen you. And you lived up to every expectation. You started to get nervous with how long he stared. He finally spoke after a lick to his lips.
“You’re beautiful-“ Realization slapped the shit out of him, “WAIT WHAT THE FUCK?!” You flinched, “DAMN COULD YOU NOT BE MORE SUBTLE IF IM UGLY-” “YOURE THE CHEESECAKE GIRL!”
Your face goes blank, a look he loves and knows. “Oh yeah… suprise!” His eye twitches, “So I’ve known you this whole damn time?! And you didn’t fucking tell me?!” You giggled mischievously, “Yep, thanks for the chats customer.”
His fist clenches, “If you weren’t so damn beautiful I’d fucking murder you right now.” “Oh stop it Boss man, dont flatter me.” “No wonder I was so goddamn obsessed with you at the cafe, you were literally my girl.” “Nah, I’m wearing the pants in this relationship, youre my girl.” “Die.”
He loved the way your mouth moves. He loved the way your expressions matched. He loved the way that this was just his secret. He loved the way you revealed yourself to him. And most of all he loved you.
Your mask was suddenly unnecessary with him. You didnt need it anymore. And the facade you put up was dissolved. This was a new chapter in your life. One that would change you and him for the better.
And it made everything worth it.
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shadowtriovibes · 11 months
Text
pt. i: break a sweat
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pt. ii: blood, sweat and tears || pt. iii: sweat it out || pt. iv: never let 'em see you sweat
Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC
Word Count: 5.2k
Rating: E
Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, explicit sexual content, unprotected PIV sex, dubious safe sex methods, even more dubious interpretations of how the room of requirement works
Summary: sebastian makes the house quidditch team after training all summer. before his first match, you let him talk you into a bet over its outcome that will in all likelihood ruin your friendship. (merlin, you sure hope it does.)
"Speaking of which," you say, leaning out of the hug just enough to see Sebastian’s face. "What prize will you not be winning?" Sebastian lets his hands drop down to your hips as he murmurs, "I have something in mind." You force yourself not to get distracted. "Do tell." "If I win, I’d like to take you to the Room of Requirement after the game," he says, and the way he grips your sides through your skirt ensures you have no way of misunderstanding what he’s suggesting.
Seeing Sebastian for the first time since the end of your sixth year at Hogwarts is quite the shock.
You knew from his detailed letters that your dearest friend had spent the better part of his summer break training for Quidditch tryouts in the fall, frequently flying down to the Poidsear Coast to log hours and hours at their pitch.
Sometimes he would even bring Anne along with him when she was feeling well enough to ride on the back of his broom. He’d convince her to release a secondhand Snitch for him to track down, and while he hunted it down, she worked on the assignments your professors had set to help her prepare for her return to Hogwarts in the fall.
He’d even written to tell you that he’d never felt more confident on a broom, and that if he only got to have one last season on your house team before leaving school, he was determined to make the absolute most of it.
You knew all of this, and yet when you first see him in the Great Hall for the start-of-term feast, you nearly swoon like a Muggle schoolgirl at the sight of him.
The first thing you notice is that he’s taller. Even seated next to Anne at the Slytherin table, you can see his entire head whereas you can barely make out the top of his sister’s. Sebastian had never seemed that much bigger than his twin before, but things have clearly changed.
Then, you notice that his complexion has changed as well. He’s tan from spending all summer training in the sun, his button-down shirt suddenly looking so crisply white against his sun-kissed face.
His freckles, too – there are so many more.
But that could also just be because there’s simply more Sebastian now. His shoulders are broader, his chest wider, and even his hair has grown long enough to brush upwards into a less haphazard style (though certainly not as severe as Ominis’).
It’s as if your boyish Sebastian from the previous school year had quite suddenly become a grown man in just three short months, and you can’t tear your eyes away from the sight of him.
It takes you a few minutes to adjust as you slide into a seat across from him next to Ominis, and based on the look on Anne’s face, she at least knows what’s got you so flustered.
During a lull in conversation about Anne’s return, you tell Sebastian, “You’re looking fit.”
You hope you can casually get it out of the way, and that no one will dwell on it.
“Am I?” he asks with an easy smile.
“I mean physically,” you insist, remaining one step ahead of him. “I nearly mistook you for one of the Beaters for the Magpies.”
“Sebastian could never be a Beater,” Anne interjects. “He’s too much of a show-off to be anything but the Seeker.”
“I’ll be whatever the team needs me to be,” he insists. “I practiced for all four positions this summer, so wherever they want to slot me in is fine.”
“Silly Sebastian,” Violet McDowell calls out from a few seats down, a wicked grin on her face. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that there are many more positions than just four?”
Your entire end of the table bursts into laughter while Sebastian simply flashes a wicked grin, and you think about using your ancient magic to hurl one of the stacked platters of food in front of you at Violet’s head. (Or maybe you should simply toss her out into the courtyard.)
“Is this how it’s going to be this year?” Anne sighs. “When I left, Sebastian was just an awkward boy with his nose always buried in a book, and now the girls are lusting after him.”
“I’m not thrilled about it either,” Ominis agrees. “He had a big enough head before he was attractive.”
“I think it’s excellent,” Sebastian laughs. “It’s about time everyone realized that I’m the perfect man, and all it took was a little bit of Quidditch practice and one last growth spurt.”
“‘All it took,’” Anne mumbles at the same time Ominis exclaims, “‘Perfect man?!’”
While both his sister and best friend take turns putting dents in Sebastian’s inflated ego, he takes it in stride and sneakily winks at you from across the table when he catches you silently observing, your gaze firmly settled on the sharp line of his jaw.
Sebastian makes a mental note of the fact that you immediately go red. Even if no one else notices, he certainly does.
Two weeks later, you and Anne link arms with Ominis to walk down with him to the Quidditch pitch to watch the Slytherin team tryouts.
“Now that I’ve got a brilliant witch on each arm, I suppose I won’t be needing my wand as often to get around,” he teases.
“Please, I know a thing or two about that wand of yours,” Anne replies. “Last year I spent a full month reading books on wandcraft that Sebastian brought me from the library. If I had to guess, I think you can probably ‘see’ more clearly than either of us can. It’s powerful.”
“No idea what you’re talking about,” Ominis demurs. “I’m just naturally perceptive.”
Once you arrive at the pitch, the three of you take seats along the practice bleachers with a few of your housemates, who chat excitedly when the Slytherin hopefuls begin to take the field.
You spot Sebastian quickly, even among nearly two dozen others in green practice uniforms circling for warmups on their brooms. Compared to how big he’d looked at the start of term in just his school robes, he’s huge now – equipped with pads across his shoulders, forearms and shins that accentuate his muscular form.
He’d declined a helmet, of course, because despite his newfound bulk he’s still the same exasperatingly headstrong boy you’ve nurtured a crush on for nearly your entire school career.
“Between us, what do you think his chances are of making the team?” you ask Anne.
“Truthfully?” she smirks. “I think he’ll have his pick of positions, unless Imelda wants to humble him on purpose.”
“Which one would be humbling?” you ask, amused.
“Probably Chaser,” she muses. “He’d be an excellent Chaser, of course, but it’s his least favorite.”
“I’ll bet he becomes a Beater,” Ominis offers. “Without the Dark Arts, I’d like him to have some sort of outlet for his intensity.”
“Fine, then I’ll say… Keeper,” you say, smiling to yourself at your private joke that only Sebastian would appreciate. “Because that way he’ll get to stay in one place the whole game and know that everyone’s eyes are on him.”
Shortly after tryouts wrap up, Imelda sequesters herself in the girls’ dorm to put together her official roster and the majority of Slytherin’s upperclassmen start passing around Butterbeers while they settle in to await her decision.
Sebastian is inarguably the center of attention, casually leaning against a table in the corner with Anne at his side. A flock of fifth-year girls crowds around him to listen intently as he talks about the impressive diving save he’d made, capturing the Snitch just feet from the ground.
“He’s going to be insufferable now,” Ominis groans while the two of you watch from across the room. “There’s barely enough room for his ego in this friendship as it is.”
“Come now, we can keep him in check,” you laugh. “Especially with Anne here.”
“It’s really good to have her back,” Ominis agrees softly, smiling to himself when he hears Anne’s voice through the noise, telling Sebastian’s fan club how he’d attempted a similar save over the summer and ended up crashing into a derelict poacher camp.
Huh.
However, before you can spend too much more time thinking about Ominis and Anne, you hear the noise in the room spike as Imelda saunters down the stairs, a rolled-up piece of parchment in her hand.
“Who’s ready to meet this year’s Slytherin Quidditch team?” she calls out, and the entire room bursts into excited cheers.
She starts to read off from her list, allowing brief pauses for applause after each name. You and Ominis snake through the common room to stand by Sebastian. He seems to be perfectly calm, but by now you can recognize some telltale tension lingering in his jaw.
Anne holds one of his hands to reassure him, swaying a bit nervously herself.
While Imelda works her way down the list, the four of you learn that hasn’t been named Slytherin’s Keeper. He’s not a Beater either, nor is he ultimately a Chaser.
“Lastly, your newest Seeker,” Imelda teases as she reaches the end of the list. “...It’s obviously Sallow!”
Sebastian beams brilliantly while Anne pulls him into a tight hug, and Ominis smiles and murmurs his congratulations to his friend, assuring him he always knew he’d make the team.
There are several other girls quick to offer their congratulations as well, but you wait for the crowd around him to thin out and for Anne to escort Ominis to get more Butterbeers before you sidle up next to Sebastian and nudge your shoulder against his.
“Excellent work, Bash,” you murmur. “You put on quite a show at tryouts.”
“Only because you were watching,” he flirts back, and you roll your eyes fondly.
Since the start of term, he’s been relentless with his play-flirting. You resist it as much as you can, but it always makes your heart race when he calls you “love,” or offers to carry your books for you, or even charms little notes poking fun at your classmates into tiny birds that gracefully land on your desk during classes.
(You don’t have the heart to ask him to knock it off, because even though you know he doesn’t mean it, it still feels nice to be the center of his attention.)
“Then I’ll have to come to see you start in next week’s match,” you offer. “Especially if you only play that well when I’m watching.”
“You can be my good luck charm,” he jokes. “Felix Felicis is prohibited, but you’re not.”
“That was awful,” you laugh, but Sebastian just grins.
“Tell you what,” he says after a moment. “We should make a bet on it.”
“A bet?” you ask. “On what, that you’ll win?”
He shakes his head. “Too easy, we’re playing Ravenclaw, we’ll obviously win. I mean something more challenging.”
“You’re clearly confident,” you tell him. “What are your terms?”
He considers his offer for a moment and then says, “I’ll bet that I can catch the Snitch in under thirty minutes. I’ll even let you be the official timekeeper, since I’ll be a bit preoccupied.”
“Under thirty?” you ask skeptically. “That’s nearly professional, Sebastian. Ominis told me most games last at least an hour.”
“I’ve been practicing all summer,” he insists. “Anne would release a Snitch and I’d even give it a five-minute head start, but I never let one get further away from me than the far side of Marunweem Lake.”
“Careful, Sebastian, you sound quite cocky,” you murmur, and you think you see Sebastian’s gaze dip down to your mouth for a split second.
“I am,” he agrees. “In fact, I’ll even let you pick your prize first, for if you win.”
“Alright,” you laugh. “When I win, I want… for you to write my History of Magic assignments for the next month.
“That’s it?” he scoffs. “You could have anything and you want me to write your essays?”
“I didn’t start studying magic with the rest of you lot, and I don’t know a lot of the foundational things that Binns wants us to reference,” you remind him. “You know your history much better than I do, and I need to bump my ‘Acceptable’ up to ‘Exceeds Expectations’ by the time N.E.W.T.s roll around.”
“Love, I would’ve done them for you anyway,” Sebastian says dismissively, and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from grinning at the nickname. “Pick something fun.”
“Fine,” you reply. “I want…”
You consider your options for a moment, trying to think of something that isn’t either obscene or pathetic. Finally, you have an idea.
“There is one thing I’ve been thinking about,” you tell him, a secret smile on your lips.
Sebastian perks up, leaning in closer. “Go on then.”
“I want you to help me set up Anne and Ominis,” you say carefully, watching him for any signs that he’s about to blow up.
He just blinks at you, bewildered. “What.”
“I think they would be a lovely couple,” you croon. “And I know she’s your sister and you’re, y’know...”
“I’m what?” he demands.
“You’re very protective of her,” you say tactfully. “But we’re all adults now, and I think they really understand each other. I want you to help me convince them that they should give it a chance.”
Sebastian is quiet for several long moments.
“Well,” he finally murmurs. “I would prefer it if Anne never dated anyone so I wouldn’t have any more reasons to worry about her, but I suppose if she must, Ominis is a good man.”
You shout excitedly and wrap your arms around his impossibly broad shoulders, pulling him in for a hug. He easily allows it, fondly pressing his nose to your hair.
“I suppose it doesn’t really matter though, since you won’t win and I’ll never have to aid you in your scheming,” he murmurs against your temple.
“Speaking of which,” you say, leaning out of the hug just enough to see Sebastian’s face. “What prize will you not be winning?”
Sebastian lets his hands drop down to your hips as he murmurs, “I have something in mind.”
You force yourself not to get distracted. “Do tell.”
“If I win, I’d like to take you to the Room of Requirement after the game,” he says, and the way he grips your sides through your skirt ensures you have no way of misunderstanding what he’s suggesting.
“O-oh?” you ask softly, squirming a little in his grasp. “Just me?”
“Just you,” he confirms.
His eyes are dark, and despite the cacophony of the room around you both, he’s focused solely on you.
“And what would we be doing in the Room of Requirement?” you ask softly.
He doesn’t even dignify your question with a response. Instead, he deliberately drags his thumbs across your hips, raking his gaze down your body and back up with a pointed look.
“You mean it?” you ask him quietly. “You aren’t just teasing like earlier?”
“When was I teasing?” Sebastian asks, amused.
“This whole time,” you insist, fidgeting nervously with the laces at the front of his Quidditch shirt. “All the flirting, all this back-and-forth… You’re just winding me up.”
“I’m not,” he says quietly. “I thought about you all summer, love. I missed you like mad, and I sincerely want you.”
Merlin.
Some bold part of you steps a little closer so you can lean in close to his ear and ask, “Are you sure we shouldn’t just go to the Room of Requirement right now?”
You hear Sebastian swallow and exhale sharply.
“N-not now,” he answers. “After the match. I just…”
He doesn’t really have the words to articulate it, but he wants to earn your affection. He has to prove he’s good enough first, that you aren’t making a mistake by letting him finally force your close friendship into something more.
“Alright,” you acquiesce, gently brushing your lips against his cheekbone. “Just don’t get too distracted and fall off your broom, because I actually want you to win.”
“The match or the bet?” he asks in a low voice.
You just take a step back with a teasing grin, and before you disappear into the crowd to find your friends, you murmur, “Wouldn’t you like to know, Sallow.”
It’s so many flights of stairs up to the Room of Requirement. You almost feel bad for Sebastian, but not enough to stop relentlessly tugging him up countless flights in the quiet Astronomy Tower.
He must be exhausted already, you assume. While the match itself had only lasted twenty-seven minutes and forty seconds, he spent nearly all of them racing around the pitch alongside Ravenclaw’s Seeker, eyes trained on any flash of light that shimmered like gold.
He’d even taken a Bludger to his right thigh. You’d felt like you were going to be sick just watching it collide with him, but he’d merely dropped a few feet with a wince and sped off again.
Not even a damn Bludger could knock him off his broom.
(As soon as your nausea had dissipated, you’d felt another dizzying wave of sensation take over slightly south of your stomach.)
Just as he’d promised, he quickly caught up with the Snitch near the base of the Hufflepuff student section, landing not-so-neatly in the muddy grass with one arm thrown up in the air. He was evidently clutching the struggling Snitch and beaming so hugely you could see it from your spot in the stands fifty feet in the air.
As soon as Madam Kogawa blew her whistle, the Slytherins had begun to move en masse toward the stairs, preparing to turn their common room into the official site of the year’s first not-so-clandestine party.
You, however, snuck away from the group and lingered outside the team’s changing area. Inside, you could hear raised voices.
“Imelda, you don’t understand,” Sebastian was whining. “I need to go now.”
“There’s a way we do things here, Sallow,” she had argued “I’m the captain, and if I say we’re going to discuss the game before anyone leaves, you stay.”
Sebastian had a few choice words to say to that but ultimately relented, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly while you leaned against one of the canvas walls that lined the interior channels of the pitch. Ultimately, it only took about ten minutes to discuss how everyone could improve – and Imelda’s only suggestion for Sebastian had been to try to find a dryer patch of grass on which to land next time.
Seconds later, he’d burst through the door and started to take off toward the castle.
“Bash!” you called out. “Not so fast.”
When he turned and spotted you, his face lit up.
“You waited for me,” he breathed.
“Of course I did,” you said. “I believe you’ve won a prize, and the nature of it is time-sensitive.”
He looked like an utter rake with that crooked smile on his lips. He was still in his uniform head to toe, his hair even messier than usual thanks to his helmet. He’d even kept his pads on, so when he reached out to take your hand, you felt impossibly small next to him.
“Shall we?” he asks, and then the two of you were off.
By the time you reach the Room and ensure no house elves are present, you’re both out of breath and panting.
“Come here,” you whine, throwing your arms around his shoulders and messily kissing along his jawline.
“W-wait,” he stammers. “Let me get these pads off, and–”
He cuts himself off, making a face.
“I need to clean up,” he tells you, suddenly self-conscious. “I must look like hell.”
“You look obscene,” you reply, dragging your hands down his chest pads. “Which is obviously a compliment.”
He wraps his hands around your wrists to stop you from attempting to undo the laces at the front of his trousers. “Just – just let me clean off first, the prefects’ bathroom isn’t far and I got the password off of Weasley.”
“No, don’t leave,” you whine, and Sebastian is merely a man, he can’t resist the girl he’s been in love with for years when she’s begging him to take his pants off.
“I must smell foul,” he laughs. “You’re – you’re seriously okay with this?”
“Look where we are, Sebastian,” you croon, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the side of his neck. “Just imagine what you need.”
For your part, you imagine a plush armchair where you can wrangle Sebastian into finally taking a seat, and one quickly spins to life just behind him. You take advantage of his distraction to shove him backwards toward it and climb astride lap.
“It’s the Room of Requirement,” you tease him, straddling his thighs and dragging your nose along his cheek so he’ll tip his head back for you. “If you require something, the Room provides.”
“I require a bath,” he drawls, cursing quietly when you gently bite just over his pulse point. “Quickly, please, Room.”
Sebastian waits patiently while you eagerly strip him of his pads, but the Room doesn’t change.
“I thought you said you’ve taken baths here,” he points out skeptically. “In a huge basin, like the prefects have.”
“I have,” you insist, frowning. “I don’t know why it’s not…”
Then you trail off, your realization making you go red.
“Go on, love,” Sebastian murmurs, sliding a hand up the back of your thigh to lazily palm at your ass underneath your skirt. “I know that face, you’ve figured it out. What’s the problem?”
“W-well, it’s my Room,” you tell him sheepishly. “So it, um… I suppose it defaults to what I require.”
“And what you require,” Sebastian says slowly, “is for me to not take a bath?”
You squeeze your eyes shut, embarrassed.
“I… I suppose the Room must have deduced that I – I like you like this,” you whisper, dragging your hands across his rumpled Quidditch shirt. “And I don’t need to wait for you to clean off.”
“You don’t?” Sebastian asks, his eyes now impossibly dark. “You’d let me touch you just like this? I’m a mess, I’m covered in sweat and mud and probably some blood, even.”
“Don’t care,” you breathe, sliding your hands underneath the hem of his shirt. “I want you now, Sebastian, exactly like this.”
He says some absolutely filthy words under his breath, sitting back so he can strip off his filthy uniform shirt. You can’t get your hands on his body fast enough, hurriedly familiarizing yourself with his sculpted core, broad chest, and strong shoulders.
He’s less of a mess underneath where his shirt had lain, but his skin is still warm and damp with sweat from the match. You want to put your mouth all over him, everywhere – and there’s so much of him to explore.
“I couldn’t believe it when I first saw you like this,” you confess to him. “You’ve gotten bigger since last spring, and so handsome… how did you become a man in just one summer?”
“You think I’m the only one who changed this summer?” he asks with a low voice. “Look at you.”
“What about me?” you ask dumbly.
His hands go straight for your chest, roughly tugging open your uniform shirt with no regard for the longevity of its buttons.
“Here,” he murmurs, his hands cupping your breasts through your thin brassiere. “I can assure you that I noticed where you’ve grown bigger.”
You gasp softly as he tugs down on the cups of your bra until he can lean in and press his mouth to your skin, sucking on one of your nipples and then the other.
“And here,” he murmurs into your chest, his hands returning to the backs of your thighs and sliding up your ass. “You have all these curves now, love, and they’re driving me mad.”
“Sebastian,” you whimper. “Take off my clothes.”
He helps you wrestle your skirt up over your head and tosses it recklessly as far as he can. When you’re left in nothing but your undergarments, Sebastian wraps one strong arm around your lower back and hooks the other below your hips, easily standing up from the armchair to walk you over to the bed you’d hastily imagined into existence.
Once he has you on your back, he tugs down your last remaining garment and leaves you bare and exposed to him, breathless and flushed all over.
“Your turn,” you remind him, even though part of you wishes he could leave the uniform pants on (despite the impracticality).
Once he manages to peel off the last of his clothes, he settles on his knees between your legs and skims a hand up your body, from the curve of your hip all the way up to your cheek.
“Is this too fast?” he asks you softly. “Did I ask too much?”
Your heart aches. Sebastian always stuns you with his sincerity when you least expect it.
You turn your head to kiss his palm and murmur, “No, love.”
His shoulders drop a little, the last of the tension he’d been carrying all week draining from his body. He wants, he always wants so damn badly and he would never forgive himself if he marred your first time with each other by rushing you.
“Can I touch you?” he asks in a hushed voice.
“Please,” you whine, letting your knees fall wide.
(Whether or not the other has ever done this before is still a mystery to you both, and it’s not something you’ll discuss until afterward. But right now, it’s of no importance to you.)
For a while, Sebastian’s hands roam your body without an agenda, acquainting himself with your breasts, your hips, the insides of your thighs. You moan softly when he drags his thumb along your slit, spreading your wetness around until he can easily rub slow circles over your clit.
“How do you feel?” he asks you.
“Good,” you gasp. “So good, Sebastian, like that.”
“Do you want more?” he offers, and you frantically nod, one of your hands fisting the pillow behind your head.
He carefully presses one long finger inside you, glancing between your face and your entrance to make sure you’re comfortable the entire time. One finger quickly becomes two, and when two nearly becomes three, you have to pause and take a breath.
“Enough,” you pant. “That’s enough.”
“Are you sure?” he asks you.
You reach down and wrap your hand around his cock, giving him a few slow strokes while he leaks precum onto your hand and groans helplessly.
“I want you,” you insist. “I’ve wanted you.”
“R-right, yeah,” he agrees, trying to clear his head and focus on the task at hand. “Enough.”
He gently nudges your hand away so he can guide himself inside you, one hand wrapped around himself and the other gently pressing on your inner thigh to keep you still for him.
Underneath Sebastian like this, pinned to the mattress by his hips and hands, he completely overtakes your senses. He’s all you can see, all you can touch — you even taste and smell him.
Masculine sweat. Dark brown eyes. Crisp autumn air. The curve of his collarbone where it meets his shoulder. Woodsmoke. A million tiny freckles. Metallic blood from a split lip. Flashes of copper in his messy curls. Singed pine needles.
Sebastian groans low in his throat as he presses in, his hair falling into his eyes before he frantically brushes it away so he can see you take him for the first time.
Once he’s fully seated inside you, he bends down and presses his forehead against yours.
“Tell me,” he begs, his hand curling gently around the back of your neck to hold you close.
“Tell you what?” you whisper, your lips brushing against his with every syllable.
“Tell me that it feels like this for you,” he practically breathes into you. “It feels like you’re — you’re everywhere, like you’re all there is.”
“Sebastian,” you whimper, and his hips snap against yours.
“Say it,” he growls. “Please.”
“You’re all there is,” you gasp. “You’re all mine, Bash.”
He makes a sound like you’ve sucker-punched him, messily kissing wherever he can get his mouth on you – your cheek, your jaw, your lips. All the while he’s fucking you open with relentless, eager thrusts.
He’s not going to last long, but you don’t expect him to. You just want him to feel good – the two of you have already wasted enough time not doing this, so why delay satisfaction?
You wrap your legs around his hips to hold him against you, rocking your own hips upward to meet him and coax him closer to the edge.
“I’m going to come,” he grits out, grinding into you desperately the closer he gets to his climax. “Can I finish inside?”
“N-no,” you whimper. There’s a potion you can drink to make it safe that takes an entire week to brew, and the batch that’s currently bubbling away at your potions station across the Room isn’t quite ready yet.
“Where?” he begs.
“Anywhere else, wherever you want,” you promise him, your mind quickly tossing out mental images of him spilling himself across your breasts, into your mouth, on the curve of your back.
He pulls out of you with a reluctant moan and kneels between your open thighs, wrapping a hand around his cock to finish himself off. You watch his eyes while he takes you in, seemingly torn between meeting your gaze and staring transfixed at your fingers between your thighs as you get closer to finishing yourself.
“Next time, love,” you murmur softly. “The next time you fuck me you can finish in me, I’ll take it all.”
“Promise?” he asks breathlessly, still an incorrigible flirt even when he’s seconds away from his orgasm.
“Promise,” you whine, spreading your legs a little wider when you catch his gaze lingering again.
You’re so close, desperately rolling your hips against your own hand until you tip over the edge, the rush of your release arching your back before you collapse lazily against the bed.
He shuffles forward and groans your name just before he spills, leaving a warm, wet mess all over your stomach and between your hips. You feel properly claimed – especially when he flops down next to you and immediately tugs you against his chest, unbothered by his release smearing between your bodies.
“You’re amazing,” he breathes into your hair. “Merlin, I love you.”
“You love me?” you whisper against his collarbone.
“Enduringly,” he says.
You rest your cheek against his chest and listen to his racing heartbeat for a few moments before you tell him, “I love you too, you know.”
Just then, the Room starts to rumble.
“What’s going on?” Sebastian asks, urgently peering around for his wand.
He quickly settles and even laughs under his breath when he sees the Room shifting around the two of you to provide a spacious, sunken bathtub in the middle of the room, complete with a luxurious amount of taps that undoubtedly offer an array of bubbles, salts and soaps.
“Oh, now you want to let me clean myself up?” Sebastian drawls. “After you’ve completely worn me out, hmm?”
“It’s more for me,” you giggle. “I can’t possibly sleep like this, but you’re welcome to join me if you’d like.”
As if Sebastian would ever pass up the chance to feel you up in the water.
975 notes · View notes
zorosdimples · 9 months
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WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME?
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pairing ༄ zoro x gn!reader
warnings ༄ none! this is the fluffiest of fluff—a bit out of my comfort zone, but it’s good to push your limits (so i’ve been told). you might get a bit of whiplash if you read my previous drabble lol.
word count ༄ 1452
notes ༄ i’m not joking when i say i wrote most of this over a year ago. idk how tending to injuries actually works, but this is the one piece universe, so suspend your belief! i just love the quiet intimacy of caring for someone else, especially when it’s hands on… this is kinda cheesy but i think it’s cute; it’s something of a love letter to one of my faves <3
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you climbed up the ladder and opened the hatch, putting your kit down before pulling yourself up into the crow’s nest. labored breaths filled the air, the swordman’s bare back glistening with sweat, his calloused hands balancing an impossibly large weight. you scanned the room, locking in on the bloody bandages piled in the trash can.
sighing, you picked up your kit and padded over to sit on the ground in front of zoro. he didn’t acknowledge your presence—not that you expected him to, as absorbed as he was with his training—and you unpacked your kit, pulling out the necessary supplies. once you finished, you silently watched him continue his exercises, wincing at the way his fresh wounds strained against his movements. you tried to ignore how impressive his rippling muscles looked as they shimmered from exertion.
by the time he put the weight down he guzzled some water and glanced over at you. “what’s all that for?” he asked flatly, gesturing toward your setup. he wiped the water that had dribbled down his chin with the back of his hand, oblivious to the way your eyes heatedly tracked the droplets that fell from his lips to his heaving chest.
you patted the floor in front of you with a smile. “come, sit.”
he eyed you for a moment, seeming to weigh his options, but ultimately complied. he walked over and sat crisscrossed facing you, folding his arms. his steely visage didn’t betray his thoughts.
“no one else bothers me this much,” he grumbled, gaze flickering over to meet yours before returning to your busy hands.
you hoped he didn’t catch the way your fingers trembled when he spoke. “well,” you said, clearing your throat, “someone has to keep an eye on you. also, chopper is afraid to come up here and incur your wrath,” you added, half-jokingly.
zoro snorted in response, a small smile on his lips. “so, you’re the doctor’s assistant now?”
you shook your head with a chuckle. “scooch a little closer,” you said, turning to pick up a towel then shifting your weight so you were propped up on your knees. he obeyed with a grunt. you raised your head to assess his wounds, inhaling sharply when you saw the damage up close. his eye was closed, a slight scowl gracing his features.
“anything wrong?” zoro asked, eye still shut. you sighed in response, dipping the towel in a bowl of water before raising it to wipe the sweat off his face and chest.
one of the sunbeams that filtered through the windows sliced across his angular face, a glowing gash that highlighted his long green lashes and a light smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose—something you had never noticed before since they blended in with his tanned skin.
you cleaned up the sweat, careful to dab zoro’s wounds lightly. mostly superficial cuts and scrapes littered his face, although he did have a nasty gash at his hairline. you brushed back his mint green locks to get a better look at the damage; your fingertips burned hot against his scalp, and you could’ve sworn he shivered at your touch.
maybe it was your imagination.
ignoring the way your heart constricted, you moved the towel down his neck and arms toward his chest. you didn’t miss the freckles and moles that ghosted his collarbone and kissed his shoulders. absorbed in your ministrations, you missed the swordsman’s cracked eye intently watching your hands move down his body, heat nipping at the tips of his ears.
it was difficult to keep your breath steady as you wiped the expanse of his tawny torso, muscles firm underneath your featherlight touches. and while his back didn’t have any major injuries, you were sure to clean it, too. satisfied that you mopped up all the sweat, you took a clean cloth and retraced your movements to dry his skin.
“you need to be more careful,” you said, breaking the heady silence. your voice came out softer than you had anticipated, your nerves getting the better of you. you raised your eyes to meet zoro’s, now open. “your body will eventually give out if you don’t allow it to heal.”
“i don’t have time to heal,” he said simply. “each day brings new enemies even stronger than the last. i can’t stop if i wanna protect my captain and crewmates.”
the weight of his steely gaze forced yours to bow in supplication. his eye held no harshness, but rather resolution. guilt prickled your confidence; zoro was constantly throwing his life on the line for luffy and the crew’s sake—who were you to chastise him?
“we all worry about you,” you murmured, putting the cloth down. you would thank him, but you know he would simply brush it off as his duty, as nothing noteworthy.
you grabbed a pair of gloves and pulled them on your hands. opening a jar of salve that chopper had made specifically for zoro’s injuries, you scooped some out and met his grey eye. “this is a new treatment that chopper created using plants native to the birdie kingdom. he wanted me to tell you that while it’s effective at healing wounds quickly, it has an unpleasant sting.”
“nothin’ i can’t handle,” he smirked.
you couldn’t help but roll your eyes with a huff. “well, consider yourself warned.” with that, you moved to treat his head wound first. as you pushed his hair back and dabbed the balm on his gash, zoro jerked away from you with a hiss.
your eyes widened in surprise, a litany of apologies rushing from your lips. he held up a large hand to stop your rambling. “’m fine,” he said through gritted teeth, sounding decidedly less-than-fine. “just stings a little, s’all.”
you bit your tongue and hummed in response. throwing out an “i told you so” would be rude, although the mirth that sparkled in your eyes wasn’t lost on the swordsman. once he resituated himself, you returned your attention to treating the wound. without thinking, you rested one of your hands on his shoulder, steadying both of you.
zoro’s body shook as he willed himself to remain quiet despite the pain that seared his skin. he hadn’t thought his wounds were bad until that salve had touched him. his mind wandered back to the present, and he went rigid when he felt the soft hand that had settled on his shoulder. he tried not to panic when he realized how close you were to him, the cute way you knit your brows in concentration, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth.
“there we go,” you said with a proud smile.
you began to lift your hand from zoro’s shoulder, but his arm shot up and he gripped your wrist before you could pull away. frozen in place, you looked back and forth between zoro’s hold and the intense look on his face. the air in the room felt oppressive.
what did i do wrong? did i hurt zoro? is he mad? negative thoughts breezed in and out of your head before his gravelly voice cut off your self-doubt.
“what,” he breathed, “are you doing to me?”
“huh?” your brain couldn’t register the meaning behind his words. “i told you, zoro, i’m just trying to help and—”
he shook his head, knowing he would screw up if he tried to explain himself in words. instead, he slowly peeled the glove—now sticky with salve—off of your hand and tossed it into the trash. he then guided your palm and pressed it against his bare chest, his rough hand wholly encompassing your own. his pleading eye never left yours, and you looked at him in wonder as you felt his heart thump thump thump thump beneath your fingertips.
suddenly, you became aware of how close you were to him. you still knelt in front of the swordsman, your knees flush to his crossed legs. it was like your body turned to wax as you warmed then slowly melted into zoro’s fiery touch, your fingernails carving red crescents into his shoulder and your hand still clutched firmly to his chest. you swallowed, heart in your throat, as he wet his lips.
“i—” he began then abruptly stopped with a wry chuckle, dimples on display for a split second. your gaze slipped down to his lips then went back up to his silvery eye.
you were both silent for a few beats, when you tried, “zoro, i—”
you were interrupted by zoro’s scarred hands coming up to cradle your face before he slowly began to lean toward you. a hopeless moth to his flame, you met his chapped lips in the middle for a blistering kiss.
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comfortless · 3 months
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in my pottery class thinking abt how much i would rather be painting with König rn pleading emoji btw
lele you are in my head always.. König being artsy..? awkward, spontaneous infatuation developing over sharing portraits of each other? yes yes… 💞
There’s a new man in your class that you have never seen before, not around the rest of the community center. The perplexing titan has chosen to take up painting, of all things, and you wonder as he steps through the threshold of the door how he will ever even be able to hold a brush without the wood splintering in those massive hands.
Painting is calming, gentle most of the time. Only, he embodies that feeling of a failed brush stroke, an accidental tilt of your wrist leaving a swirl of mottled colors that would take far longer to fix than it could ever be worth. Dark, dreary and tense as he seats himself directly next to you.
His creations are dark things, abstract shapes of gray and maroon; red lightning and murky sea. Each dip of pigment glistening off of your own brush leads to softer scenes; poppies and silhouettes of sweet creatures grazing and basking beneath the amber rays of a sun hanging lofty upon the canvas. Gentle things to warm a heart where as his own are to expel something from a chest wound, infected and bursting.
He takes note of your bewildered stares, two weeks after his joining, and even makes a point to place himself at the back of the room, far enough away to keep you from seeing the quivering of his wrist as he paints a new apocalypse. A mercy or an insult, you couldn’t be certain.
When the time comes to create a portrait of one of the other participants, you approach him without thought. “We can paint each other,” you offer, voice like a bowstring. He only nods, once, and allows you into the space adjacent to him as he shifts his long limbs beneath the table in an attempt to accommodate you.
Just mercy, it was, then.
König isn’t talkative, even as you pester over details and ask him to tilt his head a certain way just to ensure you’ve picked the perfect placement for one of the rogue freckles dotting his cheek. He complies with a wide-eyes stare, one that leaves you feeling a strange mixture of curious and uncomfortable. Each time you look up, you notice that the gaze hasn’t lessened, it only proves to be more incessant and intense.
You show him his portrait; attention drawn to the eyes, each fleck of fluorescent light painted in them with the same color used for the pale white of his scars. This is one to be proud of, a certain reverence to the piece that you’ve lacked entirely in your painted fields of little white and gray blotted sheep.
His version of you is a splash of dandelion yellow, flecks of pink in a sea of black. There’s no face to be seen, but it is beautiful in its simplicity. You marvel at it, holding the canvas up to the light and your eye catches on something— buried just below the still-drying paint, a small scrawling of your name in the shimmering gray of pencil lead. You almost think you can make out the shape of a small heart somewhere in that mess of cheap acrylic, too, before the piece is gently tugged from your hands.
“It needs to dry,” he tells you, casually discarding it back onto the wooden table and examining your depiction of himself instead.
You watch as his eyes seem to light up, that weariness within them suddenly gone as his stare drifts from top to bottom of your canvas. You know that you’ve done well, with a certainty when his focus shifts back to you and a barely-there smile is tugging at his lips.
He tells you that he can not paint anything like you, and when you ask him just what that means, he only tells you that you’re just too pretty. The reality is obvious— his hands shake, but only around you. You’ve seen him nodding along to something the instructor says to him as the older man leans over the table to inspect his art, and König has only seemed stiff, unbothered.
There’s a cup of chamomile tea prepared for him the next time he enters the room and you’re nothing but demure smiles and sweet greetings as König takes the space next to you once more.
It’s just as he’s taking a sip that you decide to innocently ask: “Have you ever painted anyone nude?”
He sputters for a moment, trying to conceal the rising tide of crimson that creeps up from his cheeks to the tips of his ears as he turns away from you.
“Nein, but I would like to try.”
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mangekyuou · 16 days
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★ the new intern portgas d. ace, my beloved.
cw: nsfw. f!reader. afab!reader. ace is from the south idk. takes place in the states for some reason again idk. i was just writing lmaoo. reader wears a skirt. not proofread. hear me out. MINORS DNI.
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── intern!ace who has recently started his internship at your company you have only been at for almost a year. mentoring him is somehow pushed onto you despite any of your colleagues being here longer than you and having much more experience in mentoring. you’ve never done this before. you try your absolute damnedest to get out of it but no one seems interested in relieving you of the responsibility. so best of luck to you
── intern!ace who is unlike anything you’ve seen before. why would a rowdy man start an internship at an office where he’d just be behind his desk or in meetings all day?
── intern!ace who never went anywhere without that distractingly bright orange hat.
── intern!ace who has a southern drawl about him, you aren’t surprised to learn he comes from somewhere down south. he has a special way of speaking that you, born and raised up north, struggled with understanding his creative idioms.
── intern!ace who you could always hear before you could see whether it was his loud mouth or the loud clicking of those ostrich skin square toe boots he was so proud of covered by his long trousers. they were louder than your heels.
── intern!ace who has a load of questions and is at your office door every five minutes. you’ve even started to recognize him by his knock. he always greeted you with a wooden toothpick between his plump lips.
── intern!ace who is a very respectful man who cares a lot about honorifics. that’s how he was raised. you are his mentor, his senior. he can’t just call you by your name. what kind of man would he be? you have become, miss.
── intern!ace who is very friendly, very touchy, but sweet as candy. you chalked it up to southern hospitality that you have yet to experience. when you’re explaining something, he stands extra close, he’s almost touching you. when you’re coming in, he jogs in front of you to hold open the door. when you fix the problem he has, he compliments you. he always looks so amazed when in just a few clicks everything is fixed. you’re like his superhero.
── intern!ace who has made it a habit to eat with you. or wait to take his lunch until you’re done. you’re like his only friend in the office and he likes eating with you.
── intern!ace who gets onto you about forgetting your lunch and eating fast food all the time. a woman like you deserves a homecooked meal he’s made it a habit to bring you an extra lunch. he does it so much, he’s even got you your own lunchbox that’s your favorite color.
── intern!ace who doesn’t leave the office until you leave. he could be done for hours but he still wants to walk you to your car to make sure you get there safely. plus what if you get lonely being the only one in the office?
── intern!ace who worries that you overwork yourself only to never be recognized. he’s only been here a month and a half and he’s already noticed it. he is always ready to remind you that you’re too good for this job and that they don’t deserve you or your time.
── intern!ace who looks a little different. dressed in a tight white button-down that looked like he was going to pop out of any second. were his arms always that big? was his chest always that broad? what did he look like without the shirt on? was he hiding more freckles under there?
── intern!ace who isn’t a fool. he may have been born at night but it damn sure wasn’t last night. he sees how you’re eyeballing him, undressing him with your eyes. he’s flattered. he’s always thought you were a beauty too, pretty as a peach, hotter than a fire in july.
── intern!ace who once again doesn’t leave with everyone else, he stays to keep you company. though this time he is bold enough to stay with you in your office until you’re ready to go. he’s distracting you with his presence alone. how are you supposed to finish when he’s sitting there with the top buttons of his shirt undone because it’s a little warm in here? he sprawled out on the chair, his legs open and his hat resting over his face because he wanted to 'rest his eyes'. you never noticed how built he was…how nice and lonely his lap looked. maybe it was kinda warm in here.
── intern!ace who hears you shuffle in your seat and hears you call out to him. he sits back up, taking his hat off of your face. you ask for his help, something you’ve never done before. he’s honored. he steps behind your desk to see the problem, to see exactly what you’re stuck on. it’s something simple, something you’ve helped him with before. why were you struggling now? maybe you wanted to test his knowledge, maybe you wanted to have him closer.
── intern!ace who stands behind your chair, reaching over the side of you to grab the mouse while his other strong hand rests on the back of your chair. you take on his warm, heavenly scent. it was intoxicating, you could hardly focus, and you hadn't heard a word he uttered.
── intern!ace who must come even closer, to actually finish your report so he can use the keyboard. he is particularly towering over you as he types so slowly. the tension in the room was so high. you cross your legs making your skirt ride up your thighs a little. with your eyes stuck on your monitor, you fail to watch him bite down on his lip.
── intern!ace who steps back to let you send your report to the boss before spinning your chair around to face him. there is one more work-related question he needs to ask you before you go home for the night.
── intern!ace who is a liar. it’s not work-related at all. he just wanted to be dramatic.
── “can i kiss you? i’ve been wanting to for a while now. it’s been killing me not to”
── intern!ace who barely lets the word yes fade into the air before he’s captured your lips on his in a passionate kiss. he kissed you like a desperate man, like a man who has waited god knows how long.
── intern!ace whose hands fiddle with your top, unbuttoning it just enough to reveal your bra and remove the tie you wore to work today.
── “i love me a businesswoman in a tie. you’re the boss here tonight, miss”
── intern!ace who wants you to take the reins, to take charge, to take what you want from him tonight. anything you wanted you could have.
── intern!ace who followed your every command with “yes ma’am” that sent shivers down your spine.
── intern!ace who finds his face place to be is in between your legs, with your tie tied tightly around his wrists behind his back. your fingers locked into his hair as you pushed him as far as he could go into your sopping wet cunt that has already drenched the lower half of his face.
── “like this, miss?”
── intern!ace with a praise kink. he loves hearing you tell him how good he’s treating you. looking up at you through hooded eyes as he waits for your praise. it sends chills down his spine and makes his cock twitch and leak in his pants.
── intern!ace who doesn’t know how you got even hotter with his hat on top of your head, your face contorted in pleasure, your shirt unbuttoned and your little skirt pulled up to your waist. it was a picture that was never going to leave his mind. from now on, you had to wear his hat more often.
── intern!ace who has an oral fixation. he’s attached his plump lips to your throbbing bundle of nerves yet again like a starved man with his eyes closed in delight. he moaned and hummed against you. he loved how your body trembled underneath his tongue as you came for him yet again. he lapped up all of your juices without fail like you were his favorite meal.
── intern!ace who whines when you pull him off your cunt.
── intern!ace who loves it when you take ownership over him. he’s your intern. he's your boy. he’s your baby, only yours and he’ll do whatever it takes to please you. he wants to hear you say it. he needs to hear you say it when he’s got you over your desk, balls deep into your pussy, fucking you like he’s in heat as you hold onto your tie that’s wrapped around his neck. say he’s your baby when he’s fucking this rough, this deep. say you own all of him, as his balls slap against your tight, creamy cunt.
── intern!ace who only cums after you because your pleasure is first. he only cums when you tell him to. he needs to kiss you when he does, emptying his load deep into your pussy, something he wasn’t supposed to do. he lets you pull on the tie one more time for good measure since he couldn’t behave.
── intern!ace whose oral fixation comes back to bite you in the ass when he’s already back on his knees to lap up all of his cum out of your sensitive cunt.
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MANGEKYOU 2024 ── do not copy, repost, or translate my works onto this platform or any other !
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