#he’ll lose an eye soon i promise

[kentosblkgf]

Miguel O'hara W/ camgirl!gf

Cw: mentioned masturbation, heavy overstimulation, clit slapping, size kink, and consensual recording. Pls let me know if i missed anything<333.

Miguel never saw a problem with what you did for work. Being the boyfriend of a camgirl had its perks, he thought it was great that you could work from home while he was away all the time, while always finding ways to pleasure yourself. He was all about you. You were the only thing he thought about when he went to work and while he was at work, doing tough missions. Guess what he thought about? You.

Being away from you wasn’t something he enjoyed at all. Miguel had become clingy when you two first started dating. Always wanting to be around you, provided him a different level of comfort he never thought he would know. You are just so perfect for him that he couldn’t even put the words flowing through his head in a proper sentence. He was truly lovesick. Miguel would do anything for you because he adored you. Even giving you gifts for your little cam shows.

His personal favorite was the dildo that he got molded of his cock. The shape, color, and size all matched him. He loved watching you use it on yourself, it was like a little reward for when he was away from home.

He is so in love with you it is ridiculous, so when you asked him to help you film a video… why would he say no to his precious girlfriend? “Miguel please”

Whimpering was all he could hear, you trying to push back onto his fingers.

“Hush baby, be patient.”

“How can I when you’re being so mean to me?” You pout so beautifully. Miguel made you so wet, just the slightest touch to your clit and you were already dripping gallons.

You had your ass in the air right in his smug face. His fingers slapping at your clit causing you to lose your arch.

“M’not mean baby, don’t act out just because the camera is on. Be good for me.”

You were about to cum, his words just being enough. So rugged and breathy, his deep voice not helping at all.

Miguel is finally giving you what you want, rubbing tight circles on your cunt, but you were greedy and needed more than what he was giving you.

“Miguel please, more.”

You whined.

“Todo lo que haces es rogar." (All you do is beg.)

Miguel has had enough of you being a whiny annoying brat. So he’ll give you what you want like he always does, maybe that’s why you’re so spoiled now. Practically throwing a fit while he was fingers deep inside of you.

“¿Has terminado? ¿Quieres más? Te daré más.”( Are you done? You want more? I’ll give you more.)

Without pressing on further, Miguel rises to his knees pushing down on your back and pulling at your hair so that your head is risen higher.

“Look at yourself.”

Jerking your head closer to the camera that reflected the smutty scene. You both looked so good together, him pressing against you with his wide shoulders and those bleeding red eyes.

Truth be told. You couldn’t handle him at all, he was too much for you. Too big, Too thick, just too… Miguel.

But Jesus fuck did he need to hurry it up.

It’s as if Miguel could hear your thoughts because he wasted no time, taking his cock in his hand and rubbing it against your cunt. You could feel how warm he was against you practically already feeling him inside you. You were never able to fully take Miguel's size without a huge amount of prepping, but you were rushing him to fuck you.

He's sliding his other hand that was not busy rubbing his cock against your cunt against your sensitive clit. Rubbing soft circles watching your reaction in the camera lens.

"You gonna take it?"

It sounded like he was mocking you, he most definitely was.

"Promise."

That promise was all he needed to hear before he slowly pushed his aching tip inside of you. It was an angry red color, leaking heaps of precum as soon as he had pushed inside.

You already felt so full, but you didn't want to let Miguel down. You promised you could take him, take all of him.

"Deeper."

Since when was his girl so demanding, you promised him you could take it, and who is he to doubt you? If you say you can then he'll give you everything he has to give. He pushes his hip forward pressing your ass to his hips. He's so deep inside of you, that you can feel him in your throat.

"Mig- oh fuck wait."

"Don't be a liar baby."

letting out small thrusts between each word. Hushing you with his words. The time felt like it slowed as you felt his thick cock dragging against your walls. Miguel was unnecessarily big, he had always been tough for you to take. It was even harder now that you had minimal prep you could feel his tip hitting deep inside of you.

Your heavy moans were echoing throughout the room combined with his breathy grunts. You were just so wet, the 'shlick' of your cunt dragging against him was the loudest thing in the room.

Miguel's hands were on your waist pushing you back against him, trying to make you take him deeper if that was even possible. His thrusts were starting to become harsher and harsher with every push and pull of your hips.

He loved to look at you like this, slutted out and stuffed with cock that was too big for you to even handle. You took him like a champ so why would he complain? That's just not what he wanted. He wanted you crying and trying to run from the onslaught of his thrusts. He wanted you shaking and crying beneath him, begging him to ease up maybe even try the slow him down yourself by placing your hands on his stomach trying to push him away.

He would get what he wanted regardless. Let me show you.

Miguel's grip on you tightens as he pulls out of you. You're already whining as you feel empty without him inside of you.

"Hush baby." His voice was so thick with want.

He's tossing you onto your back placing his hands on your thick thighs and pushing his thumbs into the little crevice behind your knee. Pushing your legs so far back your knees reach eye level on the sides of your head before you can even blink.

"Hold your legs." Fuck.

He had put you in a mating press. One of the most dangerous positions between you two. You already knew what was coming.

"Mig- hold on. let me breathe.." you whisper to him, this position always had you in tears.

"No baby, how about you hold up your end of the deal," he says as he slowly starts pushing into you again.

"Better keep that promise."

Miguel is already bottoming out inside of you before you can even respond with an attitude. His thrusts are heavy and mean just like him. Slamming and torturing the back of your thighs.

You can feel him deep inside of you, deeper than he was before. You were so tight and warm. He could feel you tightening around him. gripping onto him so tightly he can feel every pulse of your wet cunt.

"C'mon, baby."

he whispers into your ear as his hand rake along the sides of your thighs and tease your tits before resting on your throat, tightening his palm around it. Just enough to put you in a slight daze.

Your head tossed back letting out breathy moans as he kissed your neck. God, you looked so perfect like this. Taking his cock so well.

He's pushing into you roughly, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

"So good.."

It sounds like you are whining.

"You're fucking me so good."

Your cunt is clenching around him so fucking tightly as if you didn't want him to pull out of you at all. Your hearing is going blank just like your vision. Seeing white dots cloud your vision as your stomach starts tightening.

He's fucking you into the bed harshly over and over again, his mind just focusing on you.

"Open your eyes."

You're trying your hardest to obey him but the way he is hitting inside of you just right is knocking the breathe out of your lungs.

You need a moment of respite to just be able to breathe.

"Mig- uh.. wait." Why should he wait when you could give him what he wanted?

"Open." His voice was loud and demanding.

His thrusts are getting deeper… Harsher with each word. Like he's trying to get you not to do what he is asking of you.

You force your eyes open, tears dripping down your face, fuck do you look so pretty to him. Your pretty pussy speaking so loudly to him. You're going to cum soon. He can feel it with the way you're gripping his arms, leaving the engravings of your fingernails on his tan skin.

His hand moves up to raise your head closer to his face, bringing you into a kiss, licking at your lower lip, tugging and pulling at it with his teeth. He's moaning heavily into your mouth.

The kiss drew you in just enough or you to cum. You're wriggling against him trying to tug your face away from his. Miguel's hand grips onto your face tighter whimpering into your mouth.

"Cum baby."

He's pleading for you to cum.

So you do. Letting go of the tight grip you had on him. Your legs straightened out, pushing against his chest. You're shaking as you gush around him, your body squeezing shut altogether. Can't do anything but let out open-mouthed silent moans as you can't find it in yourself to open your vocal cords and let out any audible noise. Fuck do you look good trying to get away from him only after one orgasm.

Maybe now is not the best time to be asking you questions as you seem to not be in the same universe as him. Miguel smacks your face lighting trying to bring you back down from an incredible high.

"Come back to me, c'mon."

He's waiting patiently still deep inside of you, keeping himself from moving.

"M'gonna move okay?"

You shakily nod your head agreeing with anything he is saying right now.

He pulls out of you slowly, trying not to disturb your moment of clarity.

"Where's your toy baby?" He's getting up and opening the drawers looking for his favorite toy of yours.

You don't answer him as you roll over and check the camera. No blinking red light.

This cannot be fucking happening… You didn't even click record.

#miguel x black reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x black reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel smut #miguel spiderman #miguel x reader #miguel ohara #kentosblkgf

[splataii]

itto x male reader

cw: dombottom reader, subtop character, CNC (somno), breeding kink, minor feminization (use of word boycunt, boypussy), thigh fucking, minor biting

note: i totally thought itto was like 7 maybe 8ft tall. i googled after i finished this and this man is 6ft. which is still like tall, but i thought this man was like a demon?? idk haven't played in a while lol

itto gets his rut in the middle of the night.

poor boy wakes up all hot n’ bothered, his hard cock throbbing with the need to release.

with heavy eyes, he sits himself up to look down at you sleeping in bed. you look all comfy, cuddled into your pillow and shi.. he knows you wouldn't mind, but he couldn't dare disturb you, so he decides to try and handle it himself.

he pulls the hem of his shirt into his mouth to expose his lower half, trying to stifle his heavy pants as be peels his underwear down to his thighs, his dick springing out in the cool night air.

his brain feels so cloudy as he starts stroking himself, eyes flitting to your sleeping face every couple seconds.

he’s careful to be good, trying to keep his voice low to not wake you from your sleep. but when he hears a small groan from your lips as you shift in the bed, his pace picks up as his mind wanders.

the thought of you catching him.. finding him fucking his fist in need for some relief and helping him out. he wants you to use his cock so badly.

another groan escapes your lips as you shift on the mattress, itto’s whines muffled by the t shirt stuffed in his mouth as he squeezes his cock, jerking into his fist.

he finishes all over his hand with a strangled groan, face melting into a frown as he realizes. it wasn't enough. his dick was still aching, hard against his stomach. he needs you. needs to feel your tight walls around him.

he holds his breathe as he shifts to your side of the bed, the mattress creaking with the shift of his weight.

he towers over you, hands on either side of your head as he admires the way the moonlight curves over your cheek, pulling back the covers to reveal your exposed tummy and thighs.

he feels like a pervert drooling all over you like this.. his pre from his reddened cock leaking all over your stomach.

but it’ll be alright, he’ll just clean you right up when he’s done! he promises he will. as soon as he finishes using your thighs

his heavy hands tremble with anticipation as he grabs at your plush thighs, spreading the cum from his previous orgasm in between them.

it feels so good, spreading his scent all over you. just the idea of marking you up as his has his tongue lulling as he pants above you, finally sliding his thick cock against your warm skin.

his grip on your thighs tighten as he ruts into your thighs, imagining all the other ways he could claim you.

when his tip catches on your puffy rim, he loses it, moaning as his hips stutter. he spreads your hole open with his thumbs to watch the tip of his cock disappear inside your stretched boycunt.

it's just the tip he assures himself, spreading your legs to shallowly fuck your hole, but thoughts of knocking you up and watching the cum drip out of your bred boypussy has his eyes rolling back as his dick fucks you even deeper.

he was so lost in how good your ass felt, bed creaking as he rocked into you, he didn't even realize he had pulled you from your sleep.

his nails dug into your sides as he mindlessly rutted into you, whorish moans echoing over the sound of your small groans as your eyes finally flit open.

his eyes are shut tight as you watch his huge cock disappear inside your stretched boycunt, your stomach already a mess with his drool and precum.

poor baby’s so lost, he don’t even realize you're awake until you rub a gentle hand over his bicep. he flinches from your touch for a moment, thrusts slowing as he looks down at you, his pretty lashes damp with tears.

“sorry, ‘m sorry-” he cries , but you hush him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into you for a kiss. he melts, moaning as he feels your tongue trace his mouth before biting at his bottom lip. when you part, hes already panting, eyes lidded as he watches you, patiently waiting for more.

“don’t let me distract you, baby,” you give him a sweet smile, wrapping your legs around his waist, “c’mon and fuck me,”

that gets him going for sure. he presses his face into the crook of your neck and starts pounding your ass into the mattress, the sound of your moans and the feeling of your nails raking up his back only egging him on even more.

there's just something about the way your whimpers and moans vibrate against his ear that his him drooling, practically folding you in half as he tries to fuck his dick as far into you as he can go.

“wanna, mhg- fuck, make you.. a daddy,” he can barely grunt as he nips at your ear lobe.

“yeah?” you hum, sending shivers up his spine as your fingers trace up the back of his neck to grip at his hair, “mmh, you gonna make this boycunt all sloppy for me? you gonna do that f’me, daddy?”

you listen to the way he whines at the name, his teeth sinking into the soft skin of your neck.

“you gonna, fuck, you gonna fill me up?” you moan again, feeling yourself near your climax as he furiously nods his head. “use your words, honey,”

“yes, nggh~ pleaseplease-”

you wrap your legs around his waist, locking him in place as he finally spills his cum balls deep inside of you.

you pull his lips onto yours in an open mouth kiss, drowning out his fucked out moans as you finish as well, back arching off the bed as your thighs tremble in his grips.

your brain is cloudy as his tongue traces yours, a string of saliva still connecting the two of you after you part. as soon as your lips leave his, itto continues to babble as he rides out his high.

“thankyou-” he chants as his eyes roll back, mindlessing fucking his cum back into your stuffed hole.

just the wet sound of his cum being pushed deeper into you has him ready to go again. but right now, he has to make sure you’re properly full of his seed.

he doesn't wanna waste a single drop <3

#splatai writes #bottom male reader #male reader insert #male reader smut #x male reader #dom male reader #sub male character #genshin x bottom male reader #splataii writes

[illitfiction]

༊*·˚ THIS MAY END IN UNCERTAINTY part one of two.

— ꒰ premise ꒱ — a private conversation in the library between you and alhaitham escalate things to unfolding events. — ꒰ pairing / fandom ꒱ — alhaitham x afab reader (genshin impact) — ꒰ warnings ꒱ — explicit nsfw! sexual tension, making out, library sex, cunnilingus, vaginal sex — ꒰ word count ꒱ — 3.6k

You don’t know how long you coped in the House of Daena. But you do know that it’s been long enough since you abandoned the meeting.

To say that you’re alright after running out of the room earlier is an understatement. You don't give in to your anger with the Scribe of the Akademiya, Alhaitham. But today, he did. He provokes you until you fight back in ways you shouldn’t have. An argument that was fiery and consuming, overshadowing your sense of logic.

Now everyone knows. Now he knows what you are. You’re an over-emotional scholar.

Since then, you’ve been hiding in the library. Distracting yourself with the books and sitting on top of the ladder. When you hear distant footsteps, there’s a rise of anxiety thumping your heart. You’re in the middle of the climbing ladder. Your back facing out of the open. “I’m not in the mood, Kaveh.”

The library falls silent before the owner’s voice speaks up. “I’m not the Kaveh you’re hoping to talk to.”

You’re at a complete standstill when you hear him. Kaveh promised that he’ll come to pick you up after his class, but now, it doesn’t seem like the case. You believe your friend would never let anyone know your haven whenever you need to be alone. But how did he find you here?

“I had my suspicions that you could be the Inspector,” Alhaitham says. “You managed this far to keep your role a secret even off the akasha terminal. I’m impressed.”

Ah, yes. The outburst that led you to reveal your kept-quiet job. All because you got into a fight with Alhaitham. Well, actually, he winded you up so that you lose your cool. He questioned your ability as an Inspector to do the job. Didn’t think that you were capable of the role.  Alhaitham didn’t directly criticise you when he didn't know at first, yet it still hurts. It was an insult from him.

There are definitely going to see consequences for what you did. But you’ll worry about that later.

“What do you want?”

Alhaitham stays quiet. His voice sounds unfeigned when he says; “I want to talk.”

You laugh at his words. “Whatever you have to say to me, I’m not interested in hearing it.”

“The meeting isn't over,” Alhaitham says a little louder than to your liking. “It’s not like you to walk off like that.”

You push one of the books into one of the shelves, slamming it in the process. That echoes in the library. “Oh, so what, you’re taking notes on how I behave too? Unclass and unscholarly-like? Scribe that down will you.”

Again, Alhaitham says nothing, which is odd of him. He would always have something to say to you, and his silence is a little discomforting. His presence here is infuriating.

You descend the ladder, minding your footwork. The library doesn’t feel like your haven anymore now that Alhaitham is here. You want to be as far away from him as possible. Thinking of the next place you could go to. Maybe you should go home until everyone forgets about what happened. If they could ever forget…

One of your feet slips off the step and the ladder wobbles. You clutch onto the sides to regain your balance and you think your eyes flash before your eyes. It gives your heart a scare. You open your eyes now that you have regained your balance. “Watch what you’re doing.” A voice stern.

You turn your gaze. Alhaitham appears right in front of you. He’s standing on the ladder next to you and you feel his hand on your back. It warms you back as Alhaitham steadies the both of you on the ladder. 

He stares at you as he says, unfazed by what he’s done. “You almost fell.”

You push his arm away half-retorted. “I don’t need your help.”

You made it onto the ground, and Alhaitham descends soon after. His face frowns with a perplexed look. “Do you hate me that much? Why?”

“Would you like to know,”

“So, you hate me for no reason?” Alhaitham folds his arms. “How helpful.”

The nape of your neck is hot with anger. It brings you back to the Akademiya days when he would tell you how uncooperative you are with him. How he embarrassed you in private, or in front of other students. What he's been doing not only annoys you but questions your worth as a scholar. Something you fear your whole life. You can never be like him.

“I’m asking you again. Why do you hate me so much?”

Alhaitham says your name when you stay quiet. You hear him. You focus on your breathing yet your head’s spinning. He calls you again, a little firmer this time. Why can’t he shut up for once?

“Because,” you take a deep breath and eye away. “It’s because…”

Alhaitham approaches you, forcing you to look at him. He remains unfazed, a little angry. “Because what?”

You’re lost in your thoughts before you snap out of them. “Look, Alhaitham, can you leave me alone?”

You’re all ready to turn away when Alhaitham catches your wrist. He stares as if he’s ready for another round of argument with you. It’s always been like that between you and him. And you’re sick of it. Sick of dealing with him, being near him. His harshness doesn’t change. “Because what?”

“Because… you vexed me!”

You pull your arm free from him. Chest rises up and down as your breathing labours. You feel the surge of pent-up anger inside, thinking of you and Alhaitham back in the Akademiya years. It’s hard to let go, you don’t let it go. Of what he did to you back in days. Not a moment goes by where you’re in peace without the presence of him. “You are constantly looming over me. Always in my way at every chance, you can get. Picking fights me at every opportunity since our time in the Akademiya. You won’t stop leaving me alone. I had to switch specialities because of you.”

Your heart palpitates and it’s overwhelming. Your breathing is unstable, giving him a look of vexation. “You just can’t give me a goddamn break!”

Alhaitham’s eyes widened. When the quietness sinks in, you realise what you’ve done. You scoff in disgust; at him and also at yourself. The air around you stales at every second that passed. How did it get to this? How did you blow out of proportion? How did you let him get to you? Letting all that resilience you built in the past years shattered by this very moment?

It should have felt good telling how you feel about him for years. But it doesn’t. It doesn’t and you don’t understand why.

You step away, ready to leave and run away. But you can’t when his hand is on your arm. Alhaitham remains unfazed yet his grip is strong and you shoot him an annoyed look. The two of you stare at each other. Not saying much.

"And what do you think you do to me? Hm?"

Creases form on your forehead. "What I do to you… what does that suppose to mean?”

Alhaitham inches his face closer. You notice the colour of his eyes; turquoise with orange pupils. It reminds you of an ornamental gemstone and flickering flames and passion. It leaves you to wonder if his eyes have always been like that. Eye-catching and mesmerising. You keep that thought to yourself.

“When you lose control earlier at the meeting, it makes my blood boil,” Alhaitham confesses. “To be challenged by you. It perplexes me how far I can get you to see the inferno in you.”

His breath warms your mouth. You stare at his lips for a brief second and look back at his eyes. Alhaitham tilts his head, “you,” he whispers. “You’ve always been in my mind. Occupying every thought that I have.”

His eyes darted down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. You have a few words to say to him, but you can’t. Not with the distance the two of you are in. The way he looks at you. Studying your face to watch your reaction. Observing your eyes then travels down the lower half of your face. Your lips parted and he noticed that too. Your eyes flutter to lower your gaze.

You want to know what Alhaitham thinks. What he meant earlier of you in his thoughts. How could there be an attraction? You want to tell him to leave you alone, to stop looking at your face. Stop being so close to you, and stop paying attention to your mouth as if he wants to…

You do wonder how silky his lips could be.

“There is nothing between us. I hate you.”

You push him but Alhaitham catches them before you give him another one. His fingers curl onto yours and he reminds standstill to your protest. Even when you try to wriggle yourself free, his grip remains tight and takes a step closer to you.

“I hate you.” You can feel his face right in front even when you close your eyes. You want to look away, want to stop falling into the closeness. To not give in to the unspoken impulse you have had for him for years.

“I hate how attracted I am to you. I hate that I think about you all the time,” he confesses. Alhaitham brings his hand to your cheek. Trailing the side of your face with the back of his hand. He feels drawn away yet back to you. The urge to caress more than your skin makes his head spin. “It’s infuriating.”

The two of you are panting softly close to each other. You feel his lips inching close. What does Alhaitham think of this? What do you think of this?

Should you even pursue this unspeakable knowledge of what you feel for him?

You startle when Alhaitham’s lips are on yours. It feels as if you’re plunged into the waters when you find yourself returning his kiss. Your hands cup his face and whimper, and you hear Alhaitham’s subtle groans. He doesn’t hold himself back — you’re not holding yourself back either. Indulging from the invitations of each other’s lips repeatedly touching. It’s the building up of urgency pulsating in your mouth and you feel it on Alhaitham’s too.

Your back hits the wall and Alhaitham has you trapped against him. "You're the bane of my existence," he breathes. He goes at another brushing against your mouth. The object of my desires. You’re all I ever think about."

“Alhaitham…” You feel breathless. Cradling his face to halt him from resuming further, you try to catch on your breathing. But he resumes coming on you, moving to your right ear. You hiss lightly when Alhaitham tugs onto your lobule. His teeth graze the area that you surprisingly find sensitive. Feeling burned by the act as Alhaitham does a couple of gentle biting and nibbling.

You tread his grey hair between your fingers. Pulling his head closer and his body follows, trapping you in place. Alhaitham moves his lips down the side of your neck. Sucking and grazing your skin with his teeth and lips. You let out a little moan, tilting back your head. Alhaitham praises you; “that’s it, just like that.”

“Damn you,”

“Hmph,” Alhaitham makes a sound. He nibbles on a particular area on the neck’s jugular, and your moan is a little louder. Your skin feels hotter than ever and his lips are the cause of the ignition. “I want to study you,” Alhaitham continues to attack your neck. “To memorise every curve, mark, imperfections and perfection you have. You are mine to explore.”

He’s looking at you when you open your eyes. Lips parted by nothing comes out of him. Alhaitham reaches over his akasha terminal and dismantles it, letting it drop on the ground. He hovers his hand over your akasha, and looks at you briefly, watching your reaction. Hearing your protest, your command to tell him to stop. He would do anything you ask.

You say nothing but stare at him. Gazing at him. Alhaitham dismantles your earpiece carefully and it soon follows the same fate as his akasha. You glance down at his mouth, then back to him, and your head moves. There’s a brief hesitation before you plant a kiss on his lips. The worry disperses when Alhaitham takes your lips with his, soft-like and breathly warm.

The scary thing is that you do welcome the feeling.

It ignites a fire in your belly as you and Alhaitham are kissing in sync. Capturing each other’s lips with need. Alhaitham’s hands are on your hips, he grips tightly onto them whenever both your tongues dance. You can pull it down, you tell him. You step out of your shalwar trouser once he’s taken them off. Feeling bare in front of a man, no less to the man who you hate. But do you truly hate Alhaitham when you’re half-naked in front of him?

Alhaitham brings your hand over to his chest. Intertwining his fingers over yours, he helps you unclasp his coat to reveal his tight, black top and broad shoulders. You know that he’s well-built from the muscular biceps and how callous his hands are. Black and turquoise suit him and it doesn’t help that you think about it often as you admire his sculptured figure.

Alhaitham goes down on his knees and his face lines up to the centre of your legs. His lips are on your inner thighs, kissing and nibbling, making you squirm. You want to close the gap between your legs but he manages to have them apart and hold you. His hands are on the waistband of your panties but don’t pull it down as you hope. He gazes up to meet your eyes and for once, Alhaitham looks at you differently. You feel adored, and empowered like a goddess as you tower above him and he’s on his knees.

“Pull it down,” you tell him. Alhaitham follows your command, his fingers gliding down the sides of your thighs. You hear him heave and then pause. Alhaitham goes quiet and it begins to worry you. Does he not like what you have on your body?

“Beautiful,” Alhaitham says. Your cunt twitches. Stealing your breath away, Alhaitham slides his tongue between your folds.

“A-archons, Haitham,” you moan. You grip his hair when he circles your clit with his tongue. When he traces the slick on your folds with his finger, you tremble above him. It’s only when he puts a finger inside you that you let out a satisfying moan.

Trusting his finger in and out, adding a second finger in, then a third. Alhaitham tsked below you, “are you enjoying it so much? You’re sloping wet.”

“S-shut up,” you groan. You yelp with a jolt when Alhaitham pushes two of his fingers inside you. He massages your vaginal walls and it has you moaning repeatedly. There’s a certain spot that he keeps touching. You can’t help but feel the pent-up surge of pleasure coursing through. Alhaitham chuckles, “look at you thrusting your hips along with my hand. Never knew you enjoyed this much.”

You know that he’s smirking. But you’re too occupied to refute him, not with the way your moans are octaving despite trying your best to keep it low. Alhaitham’s hands shake under your thighs, holding them; “place one of your legs on my shoulder. Trust me.”

You barely can open your eyes but still follow his command. Lifting your left leg, Alhaitham guides them and places it onto his shoulder. His mouth comes into contact with your clit and folds, it has you twitching. One lick, then two, and another continuous more. You moan with your head tilting back, your hand running through Alhaitham’s hair.

“It tastes good on my mouth, baby,” He says. And when Alhaitham tastes you on his tongue in your cunt and eats you out, you can’t help but cry out for him. Pulling his face closer to you and feeling yourself tremble with pleasure.

You feel electrified when Alhaitham plants a kiss on your inner thigh before he gently sets your leg down. He stands up and lends to kiss you on the lips. A consuming, devouring kiss that made you breathless once Alhaitham pulls away. His forehead rests on you, panting softly matching your breathing. 

You tug his pants and look at him through your lashes, feeling a little bashful. Alhaitham unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants; his bulge is defined underneath the tights. It’s huge that has you staring at its shape. A little nervous yet aroused by his size.

Go on, Alhaitham whispers. Feel it, feel how hard my cock is just for you. You make me like this.

You almost choke at the sight when you free his cock from his briefs. The male anatomy is not a strange study to you, but Alhaitham’s anatomy is a whole different side of what you see. Nothing like you imagine but better in real life. The girth, the vein and the precum glistening on his velvety head have you filled with lust. Playing with the tip of its head with your thumb and stroking his cock with your hand, has him spinning.

There’s an unrecognisable growl in front of you. Alhaitham places his hand on the wall behind you, his jaw clenches as you continue playing with his cock “I can’t take it anymore,” he whispers on your temple. “I need to fuck in ways I dream of doing this with you.”

You’re pushed back to the wall when Alhaitham lifts you with ease. His hands are cupping your ass cheeks and his lips capture yours in heat. The tip of his cock close to your folds, waiting to be buried inside you. You grip the back of his hair as Alhaitham eases inside you; the two of you now join as one.

You fear that Alhaitham can hear your heart racing pressed onto him. He opens his eyes and sees you, then caresses the side of your face. “You take over my thoughts, make me lose my composure,” Alhaitham says. He rolls his hips at a leisurely pace, grinding against you, feeling his cock move and glide inside you. Alhaitham readjusts you in his hand and elevates you a little. “And now, I’m going to show you how much you drive me insane.”

You whimper, groan and moan as feel yourself dragged into peaking highs. Holding tight on Alhaitham, clawing his back. Going on a ride with him as your legs wrapped around his waist. Taking and accepting the pace he drives his hips onto you, his cock moving in and out. It feels like he’s experimenting with you, learning what kind of pace would be able to draw noises out of you. He goes slow and gentle, savouring the way your walls delicious grip his cock as he moves in and out.  Your body bounces with every thrust he gives you. Then, Alhaitham would speed up. Driving his member in a relentless rhythm, makes your brain scramble. 

“S-slow down,” you mewl. You feel your eyes roll, Alhaitham’s hands squeezing your rear cheeks. He has you burning in passion with his lips on your neck and sucking your skin and around your collarbone. Moving to your breasts that are still clothed, your nipple in his mouth. Alhaitham suckles loudly in your ears and you think it’s going to echo through the library.

“Not when you drive me crazy. Not when you — ugh — f-feel so good on my cock.” Alhaitham pants. You can’t help but groan in pleasure as he nibbles the skin of your breasts and continues to thrust into you. You feel yourself wanting to arch, despite the lack of space you’re sandwiched between the wall and him.

Alhaitham’s pace slows down when he begins to roll his hips, his shaft friction your clit. When he resumes his merciless pace, Alhaitham catches your mouth in a kiss.  Alternating between thrusting inside your cunt and up-and-down rocking on your clit.  Your head tilts back as you moan, feeling your peak of pleasure. You hold onto Alhaitham tightly and he groans, never stopping pleasing you. Your cunt milks on his cock as you come, and you’re thankful that Alhaitham has his face buried onto your shoulder.

“I’m going to—” Alhaitham couldn’t continue his sentence.  “Nearly there.”

You can’t think, only embrace yourself in the waves of pleasure. With one hard thrust, Alhaitham’s jaw tightened and at the same time, his finger goes between you and him. Circling and rubbing your clit. You didn’t think you would come stronger than the previous. And at the same time, you feel Alhaitham pulsing his come inside you.

The House of Daena falls in complete silence with subtle sounds of you and Alhaitham panting. Enjoying the embrace, the shared warmth of each other. You think you’ve calmed down and Alhaitham… his face hides in the crook of your neck. Your heart races, perhaps his heart is too, and Alhaitham still holds onto you tight.

He’s still joined inside you. Your brain scrambles, trying to piece what happened. You feel yourself holding your breath, realising what you did. What Alhaitham did. From bickering to having the most intense sex in the Akademiya’s library. Oh Archons,  you and Alhaitham did the unthinkable. Distress stirs in you and you can’t find yourself to say anything.

What have the two of you done?

THANK YOU FOR READING! DONATIONS OR GIFTS ARE WELCOME.

#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham smut #al haitam x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin smut #genshin alhaitham #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #illitfiction ; newest

[moonstruckme]

i’d love to see a doctor!remus with a reader that has chronic pain, if you’re interested in writing that <3

Thanks for requesting! I read online that migraines are considered chronic pain, so I hope that's accurate

cw: migraine, period cramps

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 726 words

The bed dips as Remus replaces the cold compress over your eyes, and you feel like you’re sandwiched between two temperatures, heating pad on your belly and ice pack on your head. 

“Can I have more painkillers, please?” you mumble. 

Remus’ voice is usually quiet, but now he speaks softer than soft. “You can have more in an hour.” 

A self-pitying ache starts up in the back of your throat. Which is great, because what you really need right now is more aches. “Can you pass me my coffee then?”

There’s a second of hesitation, and you can hear the denial forming in it. “It’s too late for caffeine,” he murmurs. “You need to sleep soon or it’ll only be worse tomorrow, lovely girl. I’m sorry.” 

He sounds it, but a petulant whine works its way out of you anyway. A hot tear leaks from the corner of your eye, dribbling into your hair. You know crying will only make things worse, but you’re feeling so wretchedly sorry for yourself that you almost don’t care. Worse isn’t something you can conceptualize.

“It hurts all over,” you whimper.

Remus makes a sound just as miserable, and then his hand is at your hairline, stroking tentatively. “I know,” he whispers. “I know, I’m so sorry. Do you need the heating pad turned up?” 

You murmur that you don’t. Your cramps aren’t great, but they pale in comparison to the throbbing agony of your head. And even if it helped your cramps, you don’t think you could handle the sensation of more temperatures right now. 

“Okay.” Remus pets your hair gently, callouses scraping against the skin of your forehead. “All right, darling, let’s try this.” 

He takes your hand in his, and you can feel the edge of his short nail as he presses into your palm, rubbing tiny, concentrated circles into your skin. For a minute you can’t muster the will to ask what he’s doing, but then the pain ebbs slightly, and you find your voice. 

“What’s this?” 

“Pressure point. Is it helping?” 

“I think so.” Not a ton, but it’s something. You force yourself to relax the muscles around your eyes, and that helps a bit too. “Thank you,” you breathe. 

Remus makes a soft sound, catching another tear as it skids down your face. His thumb still drills into that place on your palm. It hurts a tiny bit, but not near enough for you to ask him to stop. “It kills me to see you like this,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry I can’t do more.” 

“Yeah, couldn’t you get me some morphine or something?” 

The little laugh that follows is odd-sounding, like he’s stifled it with a hand. “Actually, it might be worth losing my license for that. If you really want me to, just say the word.” 

“I’ll let you know.” 

There’s a few seconds where you can only hear each other breathing. It’s always a little bit weird, knowing he can see you when you can’t see him. You wonder, distantly, shamefully, if you look pretty. There’s no sense in asking Remus. You know what he’ll say. 

“Can I touch you?’ he asks quietly. 

“You’ve been touching me, Lupin.” 

Another half-smothered chuckle. Remus’ hand rests delicately on the top of your head, his thumb stroking an upward path along your forehead. You hum in approval. 

“If you go to sleep now,” he says softly, thumb lifting from your hand, “your headache might be gone when you wake up.” 

You take a deep breath, gauging your own tiredness. You think you can do it. 

“And so long as you sleep for more than an hour, I promise to get out of bed to get you more painkillers.” 

“You’d better,” you mutter, and you can feel his smile against your skin when he leans down to kiss your cheek. “Hug me?” 

You intend for it to sound light, almost like a joke, but the question comes out laden with all the neediness you’d hoped to hide. Remus doesn’t begrudge you, one arm needling under the small of your back while the other wraps across your ribcage. He scoots closer until your arm is pressed to his front. 

“This okay?” 

“Better than okay. Thanks, Rem.” 

His lips brush delicately across your cheekbone, the soft bit of skin just next to your eye. “Don’t mention it.”

#doctor!remus #doctor!remus lupin #doctor!remus x reader #remus lupin au #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x self insert #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin hurt/comfort #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin one shot #marauders #the marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #marauders x reader #hp marauders

[luvxkdrama]

— reunion

pairing : chishiya x reader

warnings : mentions of guns, wounds, blood and cursing

word count : 1.8k

summary : After successfully finishing the last game, you run to reach Chishiya for the last time but before you can, you return to the real world with zero memories of what happened

a/n : season 2 spoilers!

—

Horrifying screams echoed trough the once empty and peaceful city of Tokyo. There was no voice announcing a new game, so the sudden shooting quickly caused a massive chaos. Everyone ran in different directions, panic taking over the residents.

Chishiya seemed unbothered as he roamed around the street as if nothing was going on. You groaned at his behaviour and after successfully dodging a few bullets, you wrapped your hand around the man’s arm and quickly dragged him behind a car, joining the rest of the group.

He raised one of his eyebrows when he noticed your hand still holding onto him. You scoffed at his smirk and quickly pushed his arm away, making him smile in the back of his mind.

“We’re pinned down here!” Kuina exclaimed.

“If we step out, he’ll get us!” Usagi answered when suddenly a green car stopped in front of you.

Before you could say anything, Tatta screamed to quickly get in the car in order to run away from the King of Spades who turned out to be the source of the chaos.

You looked at Chishiya and he unconsciously pushed you towards the car, for you get in first. The rest of the group joined you in the backseats but when it was Chishiya’s turn, he noticed a bomb on the ground.

“That’s bad. Get going!” He exclaimed and ran to hide behind a car while Tatta drove away.

“Chishiya!” You and Kuina both screamed, not wanting to leave him behind but at the same time, having no other choice.

In the back of your head, you knew Chishiya would be fine by himself, however the constant thought of something going wrong didn’t let you rest.

After a few games where you brushed against death, you finally met Arisu and Usagi again after losing contact with each other.

“What’s going on!?” You frowned when you saw Niragi, Arisu and Chishiya holding a gun while Usagi looked as much confused as you were.

“Look who we have here, our precious Y/N who always seems to nuzzle in other people businesses’. Let me make a favour for everyone gathered here and get rid of you.” He smirked and your body froze.

Not being able to do anything, you closed your eyes as Niragi fired his gun. You breathed heavily but frowned at the lack of impact. After a few seconds, you opened your eyes and noticed Chishiya in front of you, protecting your form behind his body.

“Chishiya!” You screamed once he collapsed on the floor. “Why the hell would you do that!?” You put pressure on his wound, only now noticing the second wound on his side.

You physically felt your heart shatter at the sight of his blood, slowly dripping down his body. While Arisu was busy listening to Niragi, you softly caressed Chishiya’s hair, something you’ve always wanted to do but never got the courage to.

“I wanted to do something out of my character.” He chuckled, looking up at you. “Besides, if it’s for you I’m dying for, it will be a quite nice death. Oh god, that sounded cheesy.” He cringed at himself, not taking his condition seriously.

“Don’t even dare mentioning you dying, we’ll get out of here soon and you will survive, alright?” You were trying to act though, but the tear rolling down your cheek and your shaky voice showed how you really felt at the moment.

“Of course, and we’ll open that cafeteria you never shut up about.” He laughed and you playfully nudged his arm.

You helped Chishiya lean his back against a random car and put his hand between yours. Although he wasn’t fond of physical touch, he didn’t seem to mind yours.

“We will, I promise.” You gulped, unsure of your action, but decided to slowly lean in and as you saw the corners of his lips tug upwards, you decided to go for it.

As your lips were about to touch his, Arisu exclaimed that the King of Spades was nearby and you had to leave immediately. Chishiya, as much as he wanted you to stay by his side, gently pushed you back and ordered you to run.

“I’m staying here with you, I won’t leave you alone.” You protested, sitting down next to him.

“You promised me to finish the game, come back when everything will be over. As you can see, I’m not going anywhere, I’ll wait for you.” He whispered and sent you a soft smile.

Before you could answer, Usagi grabbed your arm and you went to hide.

After hours of what felt like forever, the laser went through Mira’s head and you looked back at your two teammates, not believing the nightmare was actually over.

“Go Y/N, he’s waiting for you.” Usagi smiled at you, indicating you to join Chishiya.

You thanked them both for everything and left the roof, running down the stairs. You stopped mid-way as the characteristic female voice echoed through Tokyo, asking the remaining players if they wished to stay in this world. Without a second doubt, you declined the offer.

Although the building wasn’t far away from the Main Street, you felt as if you were running in slow motion. You started to get dizzy but you persisted in your moves and felt your heart skip a beat when your eyes finally met Chishiya’s. He sent you a soft smile but before you could reach him, everything turned black.

- - -

Once your eyes opened, you were met with a white ceiling. You raised your hand to put it against your head that was pounding unpleasantly.

“What happened?” You asked the nurse that was checking the monitor next to your hospital bed.

“You were one of the survivors of the meteor that fell on Tokyo. Your heart stopped beating for a whole minute but the paramedics succeeded to get your pulse back. You might experience memory loss which is normal, after a few days you should regain everything!” She smiled before leaving the room to check on other patients.

“A meteor? My heart stopped? For a minute?” You groaned at the massive headache, getting a strange feeling you were gone for much more than a minute.

After a few hours, you were discharged from the hospital and you were finally allowed to go home. It still felt as if you weren’t home for weeks.

You only had your purse on your nightstand, so you left the room after grabbing it. Nothing seemed right when you were walking down the hospital hall, as you somehow felt empty.

Outside the window, you saw all the other survivors who were with their loved ones.

“My bad.” You bowed apologetically when you accidentally bumped into someone.

“No worries.” A strangely familiar raspy voice came in contact with your ears.

You lifted your head and was met face to face with a blonde man in his mid-twenties. He analysed your face thoroughly and frowned after a few seconds. Before you could say anything, he left without a word.

“Why did he look so familiar?” You groaned at the incapacity to find him in your memories.

After two months, you successfully opened your own cafeteria. It was a dream of yours since you were a child but you never got the courage to have one because of your parents who didn’t consider it as a real job. However, after the incident with the meteor you realised how suddenly life can end. You decided to live it to the fullest and do as many things as possible in order to not regret anything.

You didn’t expect many people at the opening day but you were pleasingly surprised when your cafeteria was filled with customers. By the end of the day, you earned more money than you thought.

It was past 8 pm, so you decided to call it a day. As you were washing the dishes, you heard the bell ring, indicating someone entered the cafeteria.

“I’m sorry but we’re closed for toda-" You cut yourself mid-sentence when you turned around and saw the blonde man from the hospital.

“Oh, I’ll come back another day.” He was about to leave but you quickly stopped him.

“Wait, it’s fine! I’ll make an exception.” You smiled and invited him to sit down. “So here we are, meeting again.” You laughed.

“Yeah, I don’t mind it to be honest.” He confessed, looking at you.

After making his order, he asked you to join his table.

“Your heart stopped beating for a minute too, I suppose?” He asked, catching you off guard.

“Oh, when the meteor hit, yeah.” You smiled awkwardly, not being able to maintain eye contact with him. “Although I felt as if I was gone for weeks.” You added, wondering what he would say.

“Me too, I felt like I was in a completely different world, weird right?” He smiled, taking a bite of your cookie.

“I have this feeling as well but then again I can’t remember anything from when I was unconscious. To be honest, I don’t even remember the moment the meteor hit the city. Everything just happened so suddenly.” You sighed, still not quite believing what Tokyo and its citizens went through.

“That makes one thing we have in common. I’m sure there’s more though, so what about getting to know each other more?” He asked, his eyes staring into yours.

“I- I would love that." You chuckled, reaching out your hand to him. “I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Chishiya.” He slightly squeezed your hand, his fingers brushing over your skin reminding you of something you’ve never experienced and yet something that felt so familiar.

What you didn’t know is that Chishiya already knew who you were and remembered exactly what you both went through. The games, the deaths but specifically your smile and the way you made unfamiliar feelings develop in the his chest. He knew you both had your life ahead so without rushing things, he promised himself to make you fall for him all over again. This time, in a world where you’re both safe and sound.

#chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya headcanons #chishiya angst #aib chishiya #alice in borderland #chishiya imagine #chishiya fluff #chishiya icons #jdrama #arisu imagine

[seongclb]

CUPID’S MISTAKE ! sim jaeyun

♫ crybaby by the neighbourhood

SYNOPSIS. you’ve never understood why he gets so many dates all the time, he’s bloody insufferable. you can’t stand him at all, yet everyone else is crazy for him. i guess, you’ll find out what’s so irresistible about himself, soon. after all, he’s planning your valentines date together already.

PAIRING. playboy!enha x reader, slight enemies to lovers au, angst & fluff.

WARNINGS. cursing, suggestive ish make outs but they’re not that bad & jake being MEANNN.

WORD COUNT. almost 9k (8,976)

N. hi guys it’s finally out! member reveal omg !! feel like this fic could have been way better but i promise to make the next not as rushed and rubbish :( lmk what u guys think thoughhh .. also big thank you to @dazed-hee for beta reading :)

TAGLIST. @delcakoo2 @flwrshee @woon2u @rikizm @luckyowl @luvistqrzzz @mrchweeee @seungiesluv @x-mbl

 1. I THINK I TRY TOO HARD. 

You always hated the first days of school, but for some reason, they had always summed up your year perfectly. Something about them was always so exciting.

Every first day of school for four years now, you started your day with a Starbucks accompanied by your best friends: Yunjin and Taehyun. The sweet taste of the coffee greeting your tastebuds first thing in the morning paired with your - somewhat - lovely best friends. They spent the entire morning bickering, but still, it was a pleasant start to the morning. 

Entering the school gates, you heard Yunjin beside you say, “Guys, get a good look. This is the last first day of high school we’re going to have.” 

Taehyun rolls his eyes, “Literally makes no difference at all. We’ll see this shithole for another year.” 

“Do you always have to contradict what I say?” She huffs to which Taehyun happily nods and you laugh at the entire situation.

“What lesson do you all start with?” You ask. “I have Chemistry with Mr Kim.”

“Same,” your friends say in unison, so you make your way to Chemistry, listening intently to the bickering that continues.

Straight away, your teacher puts you in a seating plan, despite the many complaints against it. You get placed at the back corner, the seat beside you remaining empty for now while Yunjin sits a few rows ahead of you to your left and Taehyun sits one seat ahead of you.

Quickly, the class begins to get full but your eyes linger on a certain nuisance strutting into the classroom. 

Mr Kim informs him of his seat, which he begins striding to in his tampered version of the school’s uniform that everyone seems to think looks “cool”. Only until he stands right beside you do you realise that his seat is the one right next to you. 

“Hi partner,” Jake smiles at you, before taking a seat.

“There has to be some kind of mistake,” You say, raising your hand to protest against this act of horror. 

Jake brings his own hand up to pull yours down, “You know how Mr Kim is, he’ll assign you a detention if you make a fuss. He’s short tempered, I learnt that the hard way so trust me.” 

You pull your arm away from Jake’s hold, “He’s short tempered with students like you, not honour students like me.”

“Okay, snobby much. You’ll have to lose that characteristic of yourself if you wanna be friends. Or more?” He winks at you, causing your face to deform in disgust. 

Jake laughs at the way you cross your arms, “Relax, Jaeyun. I have no interest in you.”

“We’ll see.”

The rest of the lesson is spent working with Jake rather than working against him, since he’s good at Chemistry, which isn’t a surprise as you were aware that science was his strong suit. 

The only issue is the amount of jokes he’s made about you and him having Chemistry; they just get worse every single time, too. 

“See you on Wednesday, Y/n,” Jake smiles at you. Seeing the way his lips curl into a sweet smile forces you to smile back at him even if it’s against your will, but you catch yourself rather quickly and scoff at him before leaving with your friends.

Yunjin and Taehyun drag you to your usual bench in the school, forcing you to take a seat as they also take a seat to sit in front of you and immediately begin questioning you.

Yunjin is the first to start, “Wow, Y/n. After years of judging me for finding Jake attractive, here you are flirting with him the whole lesson.”

“I was not!” You exclaim in disbelief.

Taehyun slings an arm around your shoulder, “Y/n, I sit in front of you. I heard all of the jokes he made.”

“Yeah, then you also heard the way I told him to be quiet after every single one of his corny ass jokes. He’s a little shit.”

“A little shit who has you wrapped around his finger already,” Yunjin and Taehyun high five.

“I never thought Jake would be the reason why you two are agreeing for once,” You say. “In all honesty, looks and science are his only strong points which is why he uses them for his personal gain. The amount of hearts he’s probably broken in the space of two weeks is probably more than people I’ve ever spoken to in my entire life.”

Contradicting their previous statements, your two best friends nod at this and cease their teasing because it was true, Jake was too much of a flirt. He’s always had that reputation about him; the one where his choice of words can make anyone swoon for a while, until he’s bored of them. Especially if he uses that smile of his, he could get away with anything.

But not with you. You weren’t like that. Not the type to be swayed by his antics.

Perhaps, it was because school had always been your main priority so you never really had time to be distracted by guys like Jake and now that it was your senior year, there definitely wasn't enough time to get distracted by Jake. He just wasn’t worth it.

Or so you thought.

You found now that Jake would always be sitting in his seat before you in Chemistry, greeting you with that smile of his every single time, and even going as far as pulling out your chair for you just like a gentleman would.

“Save it, Jaeyun. We all know that being a gentleman isn't your thing.”

“Of course it is. How do you think I get all the women to fall for me?” He has a response for everything.

“Well, that definitely won't happen this time, Jaeyun,” you remark, smiling teasingly at him.

He pauses for a moment which causes you to look at him - he wasn't the type to pause after something like that.

Jake has a smirk plastered on his lips, “No one else calls me Jaeyun. Why do you call me that?”

With a sigh, you respond, “Because, I know all your playthings call you that, so it would seem inappropriate to call you the name that they do, as I definitely am not one of your playthings.”

He simply just laughs and calls you a nerd under his breath.

“Have you heard about the cupid thing that’s going to happen?” He asks you.

It was called the Cupid Fantasy Draft and it was all Yunjin could talk about for the last three days. The Cupid Fantasy Draft was an odd occasion that your classmates were organising in which there would be students paired together and they would go on dates and stuff for the entire year. You thought it was a silly idea as it was basically forcing people to date, but Yunjin argued that it was a good idea since people could get to know others easier. You didn't argue with it that much since you knew you wouldn't get picked.

“Yes, I have. Stupid idea.”

Jake groans, “Do you have to be so boring all the time? Have some fun once in a while. You never know, you might get picked.”

This causes you to pry yourself away from your books to look at Jake with a stare that seems to catch him off guard. 

“Even if someone is dumb enough to pick me, they can’t force me to go to it.”

Once again, he responds to you with, “We’ll see. Did you know that this cupid date is also your valentine? So you don't have to worry about being lonely on Valentine's day like you always have been!”

“Ha ha,” You mock. “Are you even doing this thing?”

“Of course.”

You laugh, “This doesn’t seem like your type of thing. Isn’t this too restricting for you?”

A deep frown washes his face, “What do you mean by that?”

“Aren’t you used to dating two people a day? Why the sudden change of heart?”

Jake shrugs, “Maybe, I’ve met someone.”

To this, you feel a small hit to your chest at the thought of Jake with someone else but you easily brush it off, “Yeah, right.”

What the hell was that? 

At lunch, your friends are conversing about the Cupid Fantasy Draft happening later that evening - just like they have been for days now - while your nose is buried into a romance book to make up for the ever so slight damage to your heart in Chemistry. The aim of the romance novel was to remind you that Jake Sim was not worth being hurt over, and instead the fictional character showering his beloved in endless amounts of affection was causing you to swoon. 

You’re pulled away from your fictional fantasy by a voice calling you, “Y/n! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Jake stands behind you, with Sunghoon and Jay to his side, sending you friendly smiles.

“What do you want, Jaeyun?” 

He holds out a familiar pen. It was one of your favourite pens, designed with a bear and had a sweet scented smell to add to the speciality of the pen.

“How did you get this?” you attempt to snatch it away, but Jake is quick to snatch it back. 

“I took it in Chemistry, it looked cute,” He smiles and brings it up to his face to smell it. “Smells nice, too.”

“Very funny. Give it back, now. That’s my favourite pen.”

He shakes his head, mockingly, “It can’t be your favourite if you didn’t even notice I took it.” 

You huff in annoyance, “That’s because I was rushing to get out of the class so I could get away from you.”

Jake jokingly puts his hand on his chest and rubs it to pretend he’s in pain due to your comment, before placing the pen in his pocket, “I’m sure you’ll be fine for a few hours without it. Come to the Fantasy Draft and you’ll get it back.”

Not missing the opportunity to wink flirtatiously, he turns on his heels with his friends and leaves. 

Your protests against the event had no effect on your friends, who dragged you out of the comforts of your bedroom, completely wasting your perfect night of studying. Yunjin even went to the effort of picking out an outfit for you and tricking you into putting it on by pretending she needed inspiration of her own. 

“If I come to this thing and none of you get picked, I’m going to lose my shit,” You warn as you walk up to the door of the house that it was taking place at. “Whose place even is this?”

 Your question is answered by an immediate swing of the front door opening, revealing Jay in black jeans and a cream jumper.

It was nice to see him in a different colour for once. It made sense that this was his home - you noticed the Porsche parked in the driveway along with the three story house. 

“Hey, come in,” He says, leading you through the house, “It’s about to start, so you’re on time.”

Your eyes search Jay’s large mansion looking house until they meet a familiar individual. 

You take notice of the girl sitting at his side, recognising her from walking around the hallways at school.

Without taking another look at him, you take a seat on the couch and Yunjin follows.

“Jake strikes again,” She says, staring at the girl beside him who's too busy giggling at whatever he’s saying to notice you staring her down.

“Expected.”

That feeling from Chemistry seemed to make its way back, you felt your chest ache slightly. But again, you pushed it away just in time for Jay to return and for the Cupid Fantasy Draft to start.

Jay takes a seat at the centre and begins explaining the rules, “Listen, I don’t know who made this idea but I’ll just go through the rules and shit. We go in order and you pick someone who is “yours” for the entire year. Get it?” 

There are no interruptions, causing the event to commence. 

Jay goes first, and soon it goes around in a circle - with Yunjin and Taehyun surprisingly getting picked - until the last one left is Jake.

His turn makes everyone stop and listen. You weren’t the only one surprised that he was taking part in this event, so you knew people would be talking about the lucky pick all year round. After all, it was known that he wasn’t the type to stick to one person, so it was extremely shocking that he was going to choose someone to spend the entire senior year with. 

Taehyun leans in to whisper in both yours and Yunjins ears, “Betting 10 that he’ll choose Y/n.”

You shove his arms and moments after, Jake smirks at you, “I choose Y/n.”

Your face drops. Your heart, however, is jumping in happiness while an entire population’s worth of butterflies fly around in your stomach. Fighting the urge to smile at him is almost as irresistible as him. 

Fuck, he’s got me, you think to yourself. 

Everyone’s eyes are fixated on you as you leave the room, running up the stairs until you enter one of the many rooms of Jay’s place.

There were far too many thoughts running through your brain right now. 

Jake Sim, Sim Jaeyun. He chose you for the Cupid Fantasy Draft? 

A feeling of sickness started to rise within you. Why, why, why. You probably had a bounty written on yourself now without even knowing the reason why Jake had picked you. 

A knock on the door brings you away from the millions of thoughts imprisoning you. 

“Y/n?” Yunjin’s voice is clear as day and you open the door. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know. This is so random,” You respond, putting your head in your hands.

Yunjin nods, “Look. Even though Taehyun and I have made so many jokes over the last two months about you and Jake, we both know how he is and to be honest, even though Taehyun somewhat a predicted it, he’s shocked as fuck right now. We all knew Jake would have picked someone tonight but for some reason, I still thought he wasn’t going to take this seriously.” 

“What if he isn’t?” You question. “What if he’s just using me as a plaything?”

“Well, Y/n, you’re smart enough to know when that’s happening.”

She’s wrong though. Over the last two months, you’ve enjoyed your jokes and snarky comments with Jake but most of all, you’ve had memorable conversations, too. 

From favourite ice cream flavours to biggest fears in life, you’ve enjoyed every single bit of it, so it was hard to tell if he was really using you. There was something about the way your conversations flowed that made you think Jake was beginning to open up to you. Now, thinking about it, you felt silly for perhaps blurring the line between Jake being a good talker and him genuinely having an interest in you.

Then again, he had picked you for the draft. This was all too confusing, all too much for only your brain to handle alone. 

“Yunjin, I have something to tell you.” 

Right there and then, you explain the last two months and how with Sim Jaeyun, time means nothing since he’ll have you wrapped around his finger whenever he wants.

By the end of the night, both you and Yunjin have opened the snack drawer in the room you’re in and have discussed quite a lot: Jay, what to do about Sim Jaeyun and how to exit Jay’s mansion without getting caught.

Right now, you’re on the third part where Yunjin is standing guard at the front door and keeping an eye out for Jake or his comrades. 

You rush down the stairs, just about to leave the door until…

“Y/n! Jake’s been looking everywhere for you,” Sunghoon puts an arm around your shoulder and drags you to the living room as Yunjin mouths an apology to you.

Once again, your eyes meet Jake’s figure. Only this time, he doesn’t have a companion stuck to his side. Instead, he has a drink in his hand that’s resting on the rip in his jeans and he looks bored to death. Again, hope begins to rise within you.

He looks up and jumps to his feet, “I thought you left.” 

“I tried to,” you admit, making Jake laugh heartily.

He beckons to the door, “Let’s get out of here.” 

You follow Jake, preparing to yell at him for his actions tonight but your anger disappears when he takes your hand in his and leads you out of the door and into his car. You can feel how cold his fingertips are from previously holding the cup in his hand, but you don’t seem to mind it at all.

Sitting at the driver’s seat, your eyes focus on his face. His nose is perfectly curved, accentuating the other features of his face such as his lashes that lay flat against his eyelids to match the shape of his eyelids. You’ve taken notice of this over the months; watching the way they crinkle when he laughs and the giggle leaves his lips.

“Soooo,” he breaks the silence and tilts his head to look at you.

“Don’t “soooo” me, Jaeyun. What on earth are you playing at? And, where’s my pen?” Even though you’re asking in such an angry tone, Jake can’t help but giggle at how endearing you can be sometimes. 

He reaches into his pocket and passes you your pen, “Here. I don’t know what you’re talking about, by the way. I didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He’s right, but you still argue, “You knew I didn’t want to be picked tonight, and you did it anyway. Why?”

Jake shrugs, “I took it as a challenge earlier. I thought it would be fun, too.”

Your eyes roll, “Is that all that matters to you?”

He nods, “Is there something wrong with that? Plus, this way we can do useful things that I’m sure are appealing to you, like study dates.”

There goes your heart doing backflips again. Dammit, Jaeyun. 

“You don’t have to say yes, you know. You said so yourself that nobodies forcing you to do this. But, I’m just saying that I heard you needed help for Physics and I’m the man for it,” Jake informs you. 

That was true, Jake had won every Physics award that existed at school. A few years back, he had even competed nationally and gotten first place. 

“As long as you don’t call it study dates, we’re on,” You say, much to both his and your surprise. 

“The only catch is,” He says, “You can’t fall in love with me.”

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “As if it was possible, Sim.”

Lie. Your heart was evidence of it. 

Jake decides to take you on a quick drive, switching from driving fast and slow just to get a panicked reaction from you to amuse himself.  

He parks outside a homely cafe, and exits the car without a word. Seconds later, he opens your door and helps you out with his hand reached out again. You were never one to deny affection from good looking guys. 

The cafe owner greets him immediately, “Jaeyun!”

 Jake rushes behind the counter and embraces the woman in a tight hug as you watch in shock, your mouth agape but still feeling the warmth radiate from the sight ahead of you. 

The woman leaves the hug to look at you standing near the door, a smile creeping on her lips as she looks at Jake for an explanation.

“Y/n, this is my mum,” Jake says, almost sheepishly if that was possible for him.

Your eyes widen as you manage to stutter out, “Nice to meet you, Mrs Sim.”

Why the hell has he taken me to meet his mother right now, you think to yourself. He literally just told me not to fall in love with him, and he’s making me meet his mother of all people?

Jake excuses himself to wash his hands, leaving you and his mother alone. She calls you over with a warm smile.

“Do you want anything to eat?”

You search the menu and end up choosing a milkshake. 

“So, are you Jaeyun’s partner?” She asks you. 

You shake your head, and she frowns, “That’s a shame. You seem like a nice person . I always hoped the one he would bring to me would be the one he was going to marry.” 

Pause.

You were the first one out of the hundred that got to meet his mother? There was no way. Why was he being so confusing?

Jake appears into the room with a smile, “Mum, we’ll take whatever to go. Y/n and I have a few plans for tonight.” 

His mum smiles at him, “Bring her more often. I wanna meet her properly.”

Jake’s ears go bright red as he nods, giving his mum a kiss on the cheek before leaving with you.

This couldn’t be possible; this had to be one big nightmare. 

“Your mum is very pretty,” you tell him and he smiles at you.

“She reminds me of you.” 

Your heart is thumping again, so loud that you’re worried he’s able to hear it. You wonder how he can casually say this and then turn back to whatever he’s thinking about. 

“Shut up, Sim.” 

You decide not to ask what it is that reminds him of her in you, but instead you bask in the comfortable silence lingering the soft breeze while Jake drives to your next destination of the night. 

He lets down your window so that the air can hit your face. He has the perfect view of your eyes fluttering close due to the comfort of how it feels against your skin. Your breath is hitched in your throat, in the most relaxing way ever. As Jake speeds up, you find his hand in yours in an almost reassuring manner; it’s as if he’s letting you know he won’t hurt you, as long as you don’t let him close enough. 

Pushing all your anxious thoughts away for later, you decide to enjoy this moment with Jake and the milkshake in the hand that Jake wasn’t holding. It simply felt right to you, more right than anything ever did for a long time. 

Jake takes you to a small hill that you both climb together, hand in hand since he says he’s worried that you’ll fall because of the dark which seems like an excuse that you don’t question.

You look at the view ahead of you; you’re encapsulated by it. It’s at a perfect position in the city, there's a perfect sight of all the enormous edifices lit by the hundreds of lights in each of their buildings and the moonlight hitting it square in the middle to only accentuate the beauty further. It takes your breath away so well that you forget Jake is pulling you to sit beside him.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” He says, softly to which you nod. “I don’t bring many here, even though you probably think I do. This is my place for when I feel anxious or something.” 

You look at him, and see that not only are the enormous edifices benefitting from the light of the orb in the sky, but Jake is too. He looks mesmerising under the moonlight.

“That’s shocking, Jaeyun,” You remark. “Didn’t know you felt anxious.” 

He nods, “There’s a lot about me that you don’t know.”

You notice that it’s true, all you knew was that Jake was trouble and the small details he began to tell you in your Chemistry lessons. You were intrigued to learn more about him. 

“Do you feel anxious right now?” You question. 

Jake hesitates, “A bit.” 

You nod, squeezing his hand to comfort him, but it was also for yourself. You needed to figure out the boundaries between you and Jake. 

You don’t know how it happens, but you spend almost three hours sitting with Jake. Half of it was spent in silence, enjoying watching the city work ahead of you while the other half was spent learning small facts about one another. 

A cursed yawn from you brings Jake’s attention away from the warm night and asks to take you home, much to your dismay.

He parks in front of your dorm, “It was a fun night, Y/n. I’ll see you at school tomorrow. Oh, and you have to come to my soccer practice tomorrow.”

“I have to?” You giggle.

He nods, “It’s part of the negotiations.”

You hum in response, walking off into your dorm.

You expected yourself to be a mess as soon as Jake left, but for some reason, you slept better than you did in months as you anticipated the sight of Jake in a soccer jersey.

2. I GOT THIS ANXIOUS FEELING, BUT IT GOES AWAY FOR A MINUTE WHEN I’M WITH YOU BREATHING.

You’ve been at your desk for hours, a coffee placed somewhere in the clutter of it all, seven books are laid out in front of you and not a single one of them makes any sense. You’re starting to see shapes in the paint of your walls and that’s when you decide to head off to bed. 

As soon as you reach the comfort of your bed, there’s a ring at the doorbell.  

Groaning, you stomp to your door where you see Jake with his hood covering most of his face that’s staring at your cat slippers.

“Nice slippers,” He comments, to which you smell alcohol leaving his mouth.

“Thanks. What are you doing here? Have you been drinking?” You ask, pulling him into your dorm.

You watch as he takes off the hood of his sweater, revealing a scar on his lip along with a bruised up eye. Gasping, you move closer to him to assess the wounds on his face.

“How did this happen?” You ask as you rush to your cupboards for disinfectants.

Jake takes a seat at your counter and begins to explain, “Jay, Sunghoon and I were having some fun when this girl's boyfriend got mad that I dated his girl before him and started to fight me. You should see him, though.”

He lifts his arm to show how his knuckles are bruised up, to which you kiss your teeth at. 

Rather than telling him about how maybe this wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t dated so many people, you focus on cleaning his wounds and treating them. 

Jake winces when the disinfectant touches his cuts, but allows you to keep cleaning. You only put plasters on them since thankfully, none of the cuts are bad enough to stitch them.

His eyes start to wander along your face so he brings up a finger of his to trace along your features which he decides he’ll blame the alcohol on tomorrow morning.

Before you die of a heart attack, you pull away from his touch, and pass him two ice packs; one for his eye and another for his knuckles, you also lead him into your living room. where you simply stare at the marks on his face until he gets awkward.

“It’s not that bad,” he assures you, rubbing your knee.

“You might wanna tell that to your face.” 

He giggles before wincing again and straightening the plaster on the corner of his lips. 

You don’t ask him why he’s come to your place, but instead, you grab a blanket from your room and place it over him to make sure it’s known that he can stay here for the night. 

As you’re about to leave and walk off to your bedroom, Jake grabs your wrist gently. 

“Stay,” He pleads. 

That’s all it takes for you to lay in his arms, with one of your hands reaching up to play with his brown locks, causing his eyes to flutter open and close and for his breathing to get heavier. 

Just as he’s about to sleep, Jake inches forwards and presses his lips onto yours. The metallic taste of his blood mixes with your saliva, but it’s not enough to make you pull away from your kiss. 

The kiss is deep, with both of you not wishing to pull away anytime soon. It leaves both of you breathless and you’re sure that Jake can now taste the cherry lip balm that you applied on your lips. The kiss makes you feel like you’re in the clouds and your head is filled with nothing but Jake.  

It feels like years have passed when you both pull away from the kiss, panting and pressing foreheads together. 

“Y/n,” Jake breaks the silence and you hum as a response. “There’s something about you that makes me want to change. Don’t leave me.” 

It was definitely the alcohol coursing through his veins that urged him to say this. Seeing Jake vulnerable was oddly your favourite version of him, he was always so soft with you and that was the time when he was the most open. For some reason, he kept this side of himself closed off but you didn’t argue with being the only one who saw this side of him, even if it wasn’t frequent. 

Clearly, that was the side of you that had become completely infatuated by him over the last few months. Honestly, every moment with him had changed you for the better. 

He somehow was always able to bring those stress levels of yours down in every way he could; whether it was taking you on a drive with the wind and Jake taking your breath away, or coming over with ice cream. Or even just coming over to talk with you just helped. 

You press a kiss to his cheek and wrap your arms around him to hug him tightly until you fall asleep in his arms that hold you close to his chest where you both felt a sense of security even if you knew he wouldn’t remember this in the morning and that by the time you woke up, there would be a blanket draped over your shoulders with no sight of Jake. 

3. I CAN TASTE IT, MY HEART’S BREAKING.

“You ready?” Jake pops out of nowhere, creeping up on you while you're packing up to leave the suffocating Math class.

Before you can even get a word out, he’s helping you pack up by snatching all your things and hoisting it over his shoulder.

“Jaeyun! Give me my things,” You scold him.

He shakes his head, “No, you’re taking too long. You can pack up when we’re sitting on the bleachers on the soccer field!”

Shoot, you forgot he had soccer practice today. This new routine with him wasn’t easy getting used to. Especially, since his reminders were done by force rather than nice texts at the beginning of the day that would have definitely been more helpful and effective.

He still manages to have space to hold your hand with a few fingers, even with many of your belongings in his hands; but you noticed over the months that Sim Jaeyun enjoyed physical contact. 

Now, you still had thoughts wondering if it was the vulnerable Sim Jaeyun that enjoyed always having a hold of you, or the generic one that was available to everyone. Either way, all you knew was that it made your heart run a thousand miles per second.

It was funny; you saw the eyes always watching your movements when Jake was with you. The envy was heavy in the air, but you never seemed to care. Everything else was unimportant when Jake was with you. 

“When does practice end today? I have plans” You jokingly whine, to which Jake snaps his head towards you, displaying the small  pout on his lips.

“It’ll end at 9, so you better cancel those plans.”

“What?! You’re practising for 6 hours?”

Now, Jake laughs, “No, we’re going on a date afterwards.”

Your ears perk up at this, “Where?”

“Not to worry for now, angel,” He presses a kiss on your cheek as he sits you down on the bleachers and returns your belongings while he makes way to the changing rooms.

Angel, angel, angel. All you can hear is the pet name he kept for you, echoing in your ears like a love song on repeat. 

Seeing as Jake and his friends liked to take centuries to get changed in their jerseys, you decided to keep yourself busy whilst burying your nose into a book when more people started joining you on the bleachers - one in particular catching your eye and that being a girl named Choi Heejin. You knew of her, but not properly since she didn't go to the same school as you. You also knew that she was Jake’s longest plaything, hence why she had been sending you dirty looks as she took a seat.

Feigning no sense of fear, you watch Jake and his friends walk onto the court and the sound of Jake’s laugh rings through the almost empty field, bringing a smile to your face.

Jake runs over to you, handing you his bag. You watch him glance at Heejin, displaying a somewhat shocked expression which you could tell he was doing his best to conceal. 

“Heejin, what are you doing here?”

“I came to watch, like old days,” Heejin smiles at him, her eyes radiating nothing but horrid intentions. Jake nods, taking in her words.

“Well, it definitely won't be like old times, since I have Y/n here with me.” 

Jake innocently smiles at you, leaving a peck on your lips before running off back with the guys.

Contrary to what you said before, there certainly was something bothering you about the way this girl was staring at you, but after Jake’s act before, you felt a lot more at ease.

Unfortunately, you had hoped to forget her presence but it seemed that she just had to cheer every time Jake had scored or done something remotely rewarding. 

This only just irked your temper, causing you to look at her with the dirtiest look you could muster up.

“Something wrong?” She drawls.

“Only the fact that you’re drooling over Jaeyun when he told you that there’s no chance of him getting back with you.”

She cackles, literally cackles, in your face, “Jaeyun, huh? I thought I was the only one who called him that.”

As much as you try not to show it, you’re sure she sees your face drop. 

What on earth did she mean by that?

She only continues to stab you with her words, “Do you really think he means what he said? What, because he’s been with you for a few months? Are you two even dating yet?”

You don’t say anything; no you and Jake weren’t dating but that didn’t mean this wasn’t serious. Did it?

Pleased with the damage she’s done, she gets up and grabs her things, “Well, tell Jaeyun my number hasn’t changed. I’m sure he remembers it - he’s always been good with numbers.”

You stare ahead as she leaves and you can feel the tears brim your eyes as Jake makes his way over, her eyes repeating in your head over and over again. A feeling of sickness rose in your stomach, you felt stupid for even falling for Jake and thinking he would fall for you even in this time. After all, he had told you not to fall for him and here you were, two months away from Valentine’s day with your heart only full with him. It was insane that one could have this much of an effect on you; it was as if the air you breathed in was just Jake. Only Jake. Everything was about him, Sim Jaeyun, your Jaeyun. 

But it wasn’t supposed to be, he specifically told you not to. Perhaps this was all part of his plan when he had chosen you for that stupid cupid draft. 

You didn’t expect Jake to be running after you but as soon as he gets close enough, Jake immediately wraps his hand around your wrist to bring you to a halt and spins you around to look at him, “Y/n, stop.”

You’re panting when you stop, tears falling down your face uncontrollably that you’re sure are burning into your cheeks. Jake tries to pull you into his arms, but you reject this notion which definitely catches him by surprise judging by the way his eyebrows raise.

“She called you Jaeyun, you said I’m the only one who called you that.”

“Y/n, that was a very long time ago.” 

As if that makes it any better. Millions of questions flow through your brain, all wondering almost the exact same thing and you question whether the thought has actually left your head since the day you felt some sort of adoration towards Sim Jaeyun: what am I to him? 

So, there goes it. 

“What am I to you?” The second the question leaves your mouth, all the strength that you had disappeared and turned into the nerve-wracking sick feeling reappearing in the pits of your stomach. 

“I already told you a while ago, Y/n. This is nothing, we are nothing to one another” his words cut you deeper than anything you’ve ever felt before. Deeper than Heejin’s only moments ago. 

This was an unexplainable type of pain. Seeing Jake’s eyes look at you coldly, as if he’s disappointed at the fact that you’ve fallen for him just like everybody else. As if the time you’ve spent together has meant absolutely nothing. Then again, this was Sim Jaeyun you were talking about. Of course, none of it meant anything - all the things he said to make you feel special and loved were nothing to him. You were a fool for thinking otherwise even for a second.

The pair of you only stare at each other with every passing moment, looking at one another until you simply can’t recognise the person in front of you, which ultimately brings you to turning away from Sim Jaeyun forever.

4. I KNOW I’LL FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU, BABY. AND THAT’S NOT WHAT I WANNA DO. (JAKE POV)

There was something about the way conversations flowed so easily when I spoke to you. It always led to me wanting more, craving more. Half the time, I didn’t even notice what I was saying until it was too late. But still, there wasn’t the usual feeling of when one overshares. No. Instead, I had felt a strange comfort hug me like a warm, snug air wrapping its arms around me and telling me that everything was going to be alright. 

It was odd and unfamiliar to the point where I would feel uncomfortable by all the foreign comfort. I had never felt something like that before.

Often, I would find myself sitting at the top of the hill late at night and staring at the busy city in an attempt to drag my mind away from you. Even so, my thoughts were being invaded by only you, it was so suffocating in the best way possible. All my attempts and not loving you were futile after years of pushing people away, all it took was a single lesson for you to draw my attention. And that was by far the scariest thing I had ever experienced in my entire life. It was enamoring; you were simply enamoring. 

I thought it must have been the alcohol that possessed me to choose you for the Cupid Fantasy Draft, but by the end of the night, I came to realise that it was my heart speaking for me. For once, my heart had knocked my brain out of the way and took control but something about it had felt so right even though every single bone in my being was urging me to resist. This was the first time in a while that I felt as though everything was right as it should be. The Cupid Fantasy Draft was the perfect opportunity for me to win you, so I took that opportunity. It would be a lie if I said that I didn’t know how in love with you I would get, but there was nothing I could do about it. I had let it overcome me until it was the only thing I was consuming.

Until, the dreaded moments when you weren’t beside me and I convinced myself that this was going too far and for some reason, I was thankful for warning you about me. You didn’t deserve it, you were far too precious for the ruins of me. You deserve someone better and I was going to make sure it had happened, even if it broke me. Which it did.

Along the way, there were times where I needed you and only you. My heart began to ache when you were not near, the oxygen around me began to seem inefficient because I was not breathing the scent of whatever perfume you had on and for that, my lungs were poisoned by the fumes of an unimportant air, an air that didn't have anything to do with. I began to rely on you for my ultimate survival - I only felt alive with you near me, with your hand in mine. There was no part of me that cared how it looked, or that my persona was being thrown away, until it was too late.

For a while, I contemplated being selfish and letting you completely in. I wondered what it would be like to show the feelings I had for you and to let myself love you and only you. I almost began to convince myself, but it was for the better that I was not 100%. The small percentage of me that was reluctant had saved you from me in the end.

When I saw Heejin that day, it was like a blast from the past; a reality check. This wasn’t who I am, I wasn’t supposed to be with you. You shouldn’t be with someone who only hurts you. I knew Heejin wasn’t just a reminder to me, but to you, too - which was why I had let her stay that day at the soccer practice. It was an impulsive idea that turned out for the better. Although I don’t know what she said that day, I knew whatever caused you to run out the fields that day had done my job for me. Perhaps that was me being lazy, perhaps that was me taking the easy way out, but the good part was that it started off what was pulling you away from me.

I had never felt my heart ache so much after seeing the tears stream down your face, the ache only worsening as time went on and I couldn’t do anything to resolve it but rather, the things I was about to do were probably going to make it even worse. I’m sure it did; I didn’t expect it to be easy after all this time but I had to remain heartless and strong with this last moment.

Watching you walk away had to have been the hardest thing I had ever encountered; the feeling of emptiness being the only thing I could feel for days on end afterwards and rejecting human contact until I could feel something. I longed to see your lips turn upwards to smile widely at me, pulling me into an everlasting enchantment. I longed to be suffocated by your endless love. Wasn’t that strange? 

5. CRYBABY.

The soft rain pattered against the window of the cafe that you were sitting at, Valentine’s Day decorations displayed all around the grand shop. 

Everything was blooming with love along with the freshness of the spring air flowing through your nostrils, sending a rejuvenating chill down your body. With a smile, you rested your chin on your palm whilst awaiting your date to come and whisk you away. 

The bells on the door caught your attention, making you spin around with a smile on your face and your eyes glistening with sparkles.

The excited look on your face  only dims when you see the wide smile on his pink lips as he walks in. Your eyes immediately notice the new bright blond locks of his hair flattened against his forehead, and his dark brown orbs finally meeting yours. 

Your mouth is open agape, as you stare at the boy at the door while he stares at you as well. 

For a moment, you turn back around, as if to dismiss that shared moment with one another and ignore the way the world had paused for you two but the universe must have other plans since Jaeyun walks over to your table and takes a seat in front of you.

Although it's only been a few months, the feeling of being sat with one another is so unfamiliarly strange, until he cracks that smile, “How do you like my hair?”

“It suits you,” You say admiring the colour on him. “Why are you here, Jake?”

Ouch. His heart sinks, evidently since his smile falters.

“Jake, huh?” You swear you hear his voice break.

You almost laugh at him, “Well, I figured I should call you what your playthings called you, since I was one of them, after all.”

“Y/n-”

“Save it. There’s nothing left to say,” You shrug, taking your things. “I don’t know why you’re here, nor do I care. But, leave me alone.”

As you walk out of the shop, the bell announcing your departure, Jake follows after you.

“Y/n, let me explain!” He calls after you.

Your bag is slung over your head to stop the rain from hitting your face annoyingly until Jake drapes his hoodie over your head, revealing his bare arms from the white tee shirt he's wearing. Immediately, the smell of his cologne wafts through your nostrils, sending you in half a trance and halting your movements. In that moment, you’re back a few months ago when your entire being was enhanced by Sim Jaeyun. 

“What is there left to say, Jake?” You scream into the rain. Jake stares at you, wondering if the droplets down your face are tears or the rain. Soon enough, he figures out that it's your tears, and there goes the stab feeling at his heart once more. 

“I want this back,” Jake spits out. He runs a hand through his hair, catching his thoughts. “I can’t live without you. Every morning, I wake up to an empty feeling in my heart, the same feeling that I sleep with at night while I think only of you. You came into my life so suddenly, I didn’t realise how much I needed you. Well, I did, but I was so scared by it. When I found out you were going to be spending Valentine’s with someone else, I felt a part of me just.. break. I can’t do this without you. You have to believe me.”

Jake takes a step closer and takes your hand in his, awaiting your response to his serenade of love. It feels as though years have passed when you make a movement. 

Pushing Jake's hand off yours, you whisper, “I’m sorry.”

The earnest, pleading look in his eyes almost convinced you to stay, but you knew better. You knew better than to fall for this again. You didn't doubt that Jake’s feelings for you were genuine, but you definitely questioned if they would end up in flames again. That was a risk you weren’t willing to take. 

Ultimately, you were wiser than your heart therefore, you chose not to fall into the dark abyss of Sim Jaeyun again. It was a choice laced with agony and heartburn but it was a necessary choice for the sake of your heart.

You hoped that, one day, when Jake was better for you, he would be brought back to you as someone you could build something with. But, now was not the time. 

Jake watches you walk away for the second time, knowing this time it’s definitely the last time. Pools of tears start to leave his eyes as he clutches his heart. With every step you take away from him, a piece of his heart is carried with you and he wondered if these pieces will ever return to him. 

He wondered how cupid could be this cruel and if he could ever get over the mistake that lost him you. He knew that cupid’s mistake was going to leave a permanent imprint on his entire being for the rest of his life, but he knew it far too late.

#hyfenet #enhypen #sim jaeyun #jake x reader #enhypen jake #enhypen imagines #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen ff #enhypen reaction #jake angst #jake imagines #enhypen jake imagines #lee heeseung #jay park #jake sim #park sunghoon #kim sunoo #yang jungwon #nishimura riki #niki #enha imagines #enha fanfic #enhypen smut #enha smut #jake sim imagines

[stevie-petey]

episode five: dig dug

“You like Y/N?” Dustin asks at the same time as you ask, “You like me?” Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, barely. She’s on thin ice. But you, little Henderson? You just stole the flowers meant for my girlfriend, so backseat you go.” “Yes!” You cheer, pumping your fist in the air as you flash Steve a smile. “Thanks, Harrington.” He rounds the front of his car and opens the driver's side door. “Yeah, don’t get used to it. Like I said, you’re still on thin ice.”

Summary: you and dustin bury a body and con your mother into fleeing town, great sibling bonding time ! you play hockey with a monster, dustin gets ghosted by his friends, and now it's your turn to kidnap steve (technically dustin does, but you don't stop him) who later gives you some terrifying realizations.

Rating: general, swearing and slight violence

Warnings: blood, use of y/n, fem!reader, animal cruelty technically, weapons, cursing

Words: 7.5k

Before you swing in: hello ! late chapter update, but here ya go lovelies !! lots has happened recently, i got a sick ass job and im super excited and :))) so updates will definitely slow down again some more, but i promise i will update whenever possible. for now, please enjoy !

–

“Remember how angry I was at you about hiding El from me last year?”

“Yeah?”

“Visualize the anger, multiply it by ten, and then take three steps back from me.”

Dustin trips over his feet to scramble away from you.

You’re currently in your own room, the door locked, with Dustin standing several feet away now as he heeds your warning. Never in your life have you felt such rage before, such blinding fury, and you thought you knew what anger was when your dad left.

But this? This is a new type of anger, one you know that only the older sister to Dustin Henderson could ever feel.

As soon as Dart had lifted its head up at you and screeched, you’d immediately snatched your brother’s hand into yours and ran out the door, door slamming behind you. Now, you’re hiding out in your room with no fucking clue what to do.

“You killed our cat.”

“Technically Dart did.” You glare at Dustin. You had actually liked Mews, she was the sweetest cat in the world and a gift for your fifth birthday. Your brother, sensing he’s only digging a deeper hole for himself, coughs. “I mean… Yeah. I killed our cat.”

Stepping back, you find your desk chair against your legs and fall into the seat. Exhaustion sweeps over you. There’s no time to grieve the loss of your cat. Not when there’s a baby demogorgon in Dustin’s room eating said cat’s corpse still. “What do we even do in this situation?”

“Not tell mom?” Again, you glare at Dustin and he squeaks in fear. “Well I mean, that’s all I can think of right now!”

A headache forms. “I should’ve gone with Jonathan and Nancy.”

Dustin thinks for a moment. “Where did they go, anyways?”

“No. You don’t get to ask any questions right now.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You sigh, a vague idea forming in your mind. “Okay, first we need get Mews out of the room. She was mom’s favorite child, we can’t just leave her in there to be diminished to bones.”

Dustin nods. “Obviously. We can do that… right?”

“We have to. Once she’s out of there, we just… leave Dart in there. At least for now. It’s already late in the afternoon and we need so much help from the party.”

“We can’t tell the party–”

“You’re right. We can’t,” Dustin sighs with relief, but you give him an evil smile. “But you can tell the party. You’ll radio everyone tomorrow, clean the house, and make a plan from there.”

Dustin tries to argue, but you hold a hand up. “You brought a baby demogorgon into our house. You lost every arguing privilege there is to lose.”

He groans, knowing you’re right. Next time, he’ll be better at hiding things from you because you’re a total buzzkill whenever you inevitably find out.

Together, the two of you hatch a plan. You’ll walk into Dustin’s room first, knives out and ready just in case, and Dustin will follow once the coast is clear. Then, he’ll lure Dart away from Mews’ body with chocolate (you don’t want to ask why), and once he’s gone you’ll snatch your cat’s body and flee the room immediately afterwards.

It’s a good plan.

That is, if it works.

“Ready?” You’re standing in front of Dustin’s door, your knives flicked open in your hand, ready for possible war with a foot long little demon.

Your brother pats your shoulder. “Don’t die, sis.”

“I’m holding knives as we speak. Touch me again and die.”

“I hope Dart eats your face.”

You smile. “There’s my brother. Okay, as soon as I’m inside the room, close the door. Then, when I knock three times, open it again and enter.”

“Wait for two knocks–”

“Three.”

“Three knocks. Right.”

You steady your breathing. Around the corner, you can hear your mom humming to herself as she makes dinner. She has no clue what’s going on, and you envy her for it. Your hand on Dustin’s door knob twists slowly, then, before you can psych yourself out, you turn the knob and throw yourself inside.

Quickly the door slams behind you, so at least Dustin did something right.

Your eyes, which had previously been squeezed shut, open slowly. When you don’t see any sign of Dart, you exhale. So far, so good. You walk towards the couch and find the creature still eating away at your dead cat, which you gag at.

Poor Mews.

You rap your knuckles against the door three times, alerting Dustin to come inside.

He opens the door and walks in, his hands fisted against his face as if that would do anything to keep him safe. You roll your eyes and flick his head, which he whines at. “Grab the chocolate and distract Dart, please.”

Dustin runs over to his desk and grabs a Musketeers bar. When you see the candy’s name, you want to slam your head against the wall. You know exactly why the monster’s name is Dart.

“Let me guess,” you say, your tone mocking. “D’Artagnan?”

“Don’t you have a corpse to collect?”

You scoff at him but step aside so that he can dangle the chocolate in Dart’s face. You watch, alert for any signs of danger in case you need to step in, but the monster seems to be pretty friendly with Dustin. You guess they really did create a bond.

Once Dart is far enough away from Mews, you run over and snatch up her body. You try not to think about the possible cat guts now all over your sweater. That will be a later issue. Like a lot of things in your life recently.

“Go, go, go!” You push Dustin towards the door.

He doesn’t need to be told twice, throwing the last piece of the candy bar at Dart’s face and running out the door right behind you. Once you’re both out the room with the door closed, you both lean against the wall and exhale deeply.

“Good job. Now onto phase two.”

Dustin makes a face. “Why do I have to distract mom?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you hold up Mews’ bloody body. “Do you want to be the one to hold our dead cat?”

“Good point, I’ll go distract mom.” Dustin leaves, rounding the corner to go hopefully distract your poor mother in a sane way. With your luck, Dustin will spew some weird bullshit that will only make her more worried than she already is.

Right on cue, you hear Dustin say from the kitchen. “Mom, I think I broke my arm.”

The scream of fear your mom lets out would’ve been comedic had you not been holding her beloved dead cat.

Your mother runs around the kitchen, fretting over your brother, and the second she isn’t looking, you slip out the front door and quickly throw Mews’ body into your bush. You feel a bit bad about that, but there’s nowhere else to hide her body in broad daylight.

When you walk back inside, Dustin is being swaddled by your mother. “What did I miss?”

“Oh, Y/N!” Your mom sighs. “Dusty said he thought he broke his arm, but the silly boy seems to be okay.”

Dustin pats her back. “Ha, right. Silly me!”

Your mom looks up and then squints a bit, eying your sweater. You look down and your heart drops. It’s covered in Mews’ blood.

Fuck.

“Y/N, what’s that all over your sweater?”

“Paint!” You say while Dustin sputters, “Ketchup!”

“We… Were painting with ketchup.” You lie, sending a quick glare your brother’s way. Out of everything red, why ketchup?

“Oh, alright.” Your mom looks uncertain, but doesn’t say anything else about it. “Well, dinner is almost ready. Why don’t you go wash up, honey?”

The second you’re dismissed, you run into your room and yank the sweater off. You’ll burn it tomorrow. First chance you get.

A few seconds later, there’s a knock on your door before Dustin’s head pokes inside. “Dinner’s done.”

“Great. Holding your dead cat definitely works up an appetite.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Dustin tries to play it off, but you see the genuine upset in his eyes. He hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, and you know he loved Mews too.

You sigh and walk over to him and kiss his curls. “It’s okay. Next time, let’s not hide a monster from the Upside Down, yeah?”

“Deal.”

–

Dustin spends the night in your room, which you explain to your mom as needing some “serious bonding time”. She tears up at this, unaware of the fact that you’ll be making your brother sleep on the floor as punishment.

The next morning you and Dustin hatch yet another plan: get mom out of the house. Before you two can do anything else, you both agree that your mom cannot be anywhere near Dart. Plus, she’s already noticed Mews’ absence, so it’s only a matter of time before she finds the body in the bush.

“Alright, you’ll fake the phone call while I start gathering the supplies.” You tell Dustin while your mom calls for Mews outside. She’s at the bottom of the driveway, Mews’ favorite toy in her hand, shaking it around, unaware that the cat’s dead body is in the bush next to her.

“Got it. You remember where my old hockey suit is?” You nod at Dustin’s question, and he’s about to say something else before he sees your mom start walking back towards the house. “Shit! Game time, go!”

Dustin fumbles for the phone and you run to the living room closet. Just as you’ve entered your positions, your mom walks through the front door.

“Mewsy! Dusty, Y/N, sweethearts, you’re sure she’s not in your rooms?”

“No, mom.” You shake your head at her.

Holding up a finger, Dustin presses the phone to his ear and motions for the woman to remain quiet. “Uh-huh. Thank you so much, Mr. McCorkle. Thank you so much, you are a true lifesaver.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. He’s laying it on pretty thick.

“Alright, this was great. Thank you, have a good one. Bye-bye now, all right. You too.” Dustin pretends to hang up the phone and smiles at your mom. “Alright, great news!”

“They found her?” Tears of joy lace your mother’s voice. You have to turn away, you know she’d notice the discomfort on your face. It feels horrible to be lying to your mother like this.

Dustin seems to be thinking the same thing, because he lowers his voice and gently approaches her. “No, but they saw her wandering around Loch Nora.”

More tears flow down your mom’s face. “How did the poor baby get all the way over there?”

“I don’t know, lost I guess. But they’re gonna look for her, and–and Y/N and I will stay here, just in case they call again. Right, Y/N?”

“Right!” You call from the closet, now quickly grabbing everything you can think of. Would a hammer be necessary?

“And you’re gonna go help look. Yeah?” Dustin’s only response is a relieved hug from your crying mother. “Yeah, give me a hug. Go get her!”

Your mom quickly composes herself and grabs her glasses. She presses a kiss to your forehead and seems to be in better spirits. “We’ll find her!”

“Mews will be home soon, mom!” You cheer, and your mom blows you another kiss.

“I love you,” Dustin sends her a thumbs up.

“I love you, kids.” And with that, your mom clutches her purse to her chest and sends one final kiss your way before shutting the door behind her.

As soon as the door shuts, you and Dustin scramble. Dustin heads to the backyard to open your cellar doors and you grab the remaining hockey gear from the closet. While you drag the uniform out to the living room, your brother begins to look through the fridge for any possible bait.

“Think Dart would like bologna?” Dustin calls over his shoulder as he digs around.

You groan, dropping the heavy goalie pads. “Last I checked, he wasn’t my secret Upside Down pet.”

“Touche.”

Dustin grabs the bologna and starts making a trail from his room towards the front door. While he does that, you start sorting through your own pile of gear, soccer to be specific. Dustin liked hockey, you preferred warmer sports. As you’ve finished lacing up your cleats and shin pads, Dustin returns.

“Okay, the bait is all set up. Got my hockey stick?”

You hand him what he needs. “Here, and your helmet is on the couch.”

Dustin gets ready and you retrieve some oven mitts from the kitchen. When you hand them to the boy, he looks at you like you’re insane. “What? Extra protection. Can’t hurt.”

He sighs and swipes them from your hand, putting them on. Once he’s ready, you help him stand up. He looks ridiculous in his old hockey gear, but you suppose you don’t look any better with your shin pads and Dustin’s spare shoulder pads.

“Alright. We all set?”

Dustin pats his helmet. “Ready.”

You walk towards his room, and once you’re there, Dustin pushes past you and bends down a bit so he can speak through his keyhole. “Alright, Dart. Breakfast time.”

“Do we have to mention breakfast right before we set him free?" You mumble, but your brother ignores you.

Slowly, he reaches towards the door handle and then flings it open. As soon as the door has been moved, Dustin practically knocks you to the ground in his haste to escape. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”

His mantra reminds you of Steve’s from last year at Jonathan’s. Seems like the two boys have something in common: they’re idiots.

You follow quickly behind Dustin, terrified but at least trying to hide it, while your brother just repeats “oh my god”, and “shit” over and over again as he stumbles over the bait and out towards the front door.

If the situation wasn’t so grave, you’d be giggling at how dumb Dustin looks waddling over bologna on the floor. However, Dart could very well be right behind you, so you run after the kid equally as terrified.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit–”

By this point, you’re nearing the tool shed outside.

“I will push you down these stairs Dustin Henderson.”

Dustin shuts up and, as soon as you’re inside the shed as well, locks it behind him. Once he’s sure you’re all cleared, he lets out a breath of relief. “Okay, now we wait.”

You walk towards the wood panels, squinting as you peek through a gap to see outside. “I don’t see anything.”

Dustin does the same. “Come on, I know you’re hungry…”

Everything remains still outside, and you’re starting to worry that maybe Dart doesn’t like bologna after all, until you see his scaly body walk out the door. He gobbles down the bologna pieces one by one, which you cringe at.

“Yeah. He likes bologna, alright.”

Dustin silently cheers. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”

Dart makes his way down the trail, eating every piece he finds, and soon he scampers down the steps and hovers over the cellar doors. In an odd way, the little guy is kinda cute if you forget about the fact that he killed your cat.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Dustin continues to chant as you watch Dart. The creature just has one more piece of bologna left, he just needs to take a few more steps inside before you can slam the doors shut.

But, because nothing can ever be easy for you, Dart suddenly turns and looks straight at you and Dustin. “Shit!”

You flinch back, knocking into a bucket of nails that spill everywhere. “Shit again!”

Dustin tries to shush you but you grab him by his shoulders and force him behind you. Your knives are out, their blades gleaming in the sunlight that creeps through the wood panels. You peek through them to find Dart slowly approaching the shed, his mouth almost watering.

“Well, this isn’t good.” You take a breath to lessen your fear. “Stay here, I’ll try to distract him–”

“AHHH!” Dustin shoves you against the opposite wall, your body flinging back with a harsh crash, and breaks through the shed’s door. With one solid wack from his hockey stick, he flings Dart into the cellar.

“What the–Dustin!” By the time you make it out the shed, your brother has flung himself on top of the cellar doors, panting.

“Got him,” he informs you, as if it isn’t obvious enough. Dart begins to screech with anger, and Dustin sighs. “I’m sorry, you ate my cat.”

“You’re an idiot, Dustin.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just give me five seconds to catch my breath, please.”

–

With Dart safely locked away, you and Dustin are able to finally bury your cat.

It doesn’t take long, but the early November heat is just warm enough to make you annoyed as you dig through the soil in your backyard. Dustin has his walkie with him, trying to find the right frequency so he can call the party and inform them of what’s going on.

“Guys, this is Dustin again. Does anyone copy?” You stab at the ground with your shovel and your brother groans when he gets no response. “This is a code red. I repeat, a code red!”

Sweat trickles down your brow and honestly it should be Dustin burying the cat, but you’ve never learned how to radio the party so you just sigh and throw more dirt upon your dead cat. Dustin tries a few more times to contact the party, but no one responds.

“Damn it!” He shouts, frustrated.

“Language,” you huff out, more sweat forming.

It goes on like this for a while, Dustin trying and failing to reach anyone, as you two begin to clean the house of any blood and Mews guts. He tries again while you guys grab the cleaning supplies, then again while you’re on your hands and knees scrubbing his carpet in his room.

“Alright, it’s Dustin again. Seriously, I have a code red.”

“Maybe they don’t know what code red means?” You offer, your nose scrunched up due to the bleach fumes.

Dustin scoffs, “sure, and they also don’t know who Luke Skywalker’s father is–”

Suddenly Erica’s voice comes through the walkie. “Can you please shut up?”

“Erica?” Dustin stops scrubbing and straightens up. “Erica, is Lucas there? Where is he?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Erica has always been such a lovely girl.

“Is he with Mike?”

“Like I said, I don’t know and I don’t care.”

You and Dustin share a look. It worries you that Mike hasn’t been responding all day. From what you’ve heard and seen, he’s spent every day this year camped out in his fort in the basement trying to contact El with the radio frequencies.

It’s not like to Mike to just disappear.

“Listen, Erica.” You speak up, trying to sweet talk to the girl. You’ve babysat her a few times and you’ve even managed to convince her you’re kinda cool, so maybe she’ll respond better to you. “Did Lucas mention anything else? Maybe… Maybe like a girl he went to see?”

Dustin frowns. “A girl? What–” You shush him and wait for a response.

Erica snorts. “A girl? Please, as if. He’s been gone all day. That’s all I can tell you.”

Your brother closes his eyes and sighs. “Please tell him it’s super important. Please tell him that I have a code–”

“Code red?” Erica interrupts.

“Yep, code red. Exactly.” Dustin smiles, then covers his mike to whisper to you, “seems like she likes me more than you–”

“I got a code for you instead. It’s called code shut-your-mouth.” Then, Erica switches off the walkie.

Dustin stares at nothing, dumbfounded. You go back to scrubbing the carpet, a pleased smile on your face. “So, you were saying?”

He’s quiet for a few seconds, processing the fact that clearly no one in the party will answer, before letting out an obnoxious groan. “Damn it!”

“Are you gonna help me clean, or–?”

“Can’t you just call Jonathan?” Dustin asks, grasping at straws. “Maybe he can be useful for once and help.”

You shake your head. “No, he’s out of town right now with Nancy.”

“And you’re okay with this because…?”

“Because,” you roll your eyes, “they’re on a secret mission to take down Hawkin’s Lab. They’re at some detective’s house right now, so I have zero way of contacting them.”

Dustin rubs at his eyes tiredly. “How did we get stuck with a cat eating baby demogorgon while Jonathan and Nancy get cool spy work?”

You pinch his leg, causing him to wince and move away from you. “Because you purposefully hid the baby demogorgon. Any other stupid questions?”

“Sure,” Dustin throws his hands up in defeat, obviously joking when he asks, “got any other friend we could call for help?”

A sarcastic laugh escapes your lips and you’re about to tell him that he has more friends than you’ve ever had, but then a thought occurs to you.

Steve.

Technically speaking, you’re friends. Well, sort of. Sure, he had wanted space yesterday in the lunchroom, and yeah he’s still mad at you and things are awkward at best between the two of you, but still…

He’d been at Jonathan’s house last year, he had fought by your side and saved your life and even bought you a vending machine full of snacks. If anyone else could understand the situation you’re in right now, it’s Steve.

You hesitate though. He still seemed really hurt at lunch, but you also saw the way he lingered even after dismissing himself. He doesn’t hate you, at least not really, and without Jonathan or Nancy to call, he’s the only person you have left right now.

It can’t hurt to try, at least.

“Actually, yeah.” You respond after a minute or so. “Be right back.”

Dustin asks questions as you head towards the living room, but you don’t respond. If Steve doesn’t answer, then you can make up some lie about the phone being broken or something to save yourself the embarrassment.

Your fingers press Steve’s long remembered number. He had given it to you his first week of visiting you at Bookstrordinary, assuring you that you could call him whenever. After a while, you took his word on it and started calling the boy every time you were bored and alone at work.

The line rings for a few seconds, and you bite your lip in anticipation.

This is a horrible idea, and yet your heart flutters when Steve answers with a groggy, “hello?”

“Hey, Steve.”

“Y/N?” He sounds surprised.

You can’t blame him, he did quite literally yesterday tell you he’s still upset with you and that he needs space. And yet here you are: calling him early on a Saturday afternoon. “Yeah, it’s me. Listen, I really need your help–”

A sigh. “Normally I’d love to, but I’m kinda in the middle of getting ready to go to Nancy’s.”

“Nancy’s? Steve, she’s not even home–”

“Can we talk later? I… I’d really like to talk, if that’s alright with you.”

This throws you, and for a second you forget about the reason you called. “Of course we can talk, Steve.”

“Great,” you can hear a smile in his voice, which warms you. “I’ll see you later, then.”

Then you remember Dart and the blood on Dustin’s carpet and you frantically try to stop Steve from hanging up. “Wait, no! Steve, Nancy isn’t home and I really need you to–”

The line goes dead, and you slam the phone down. “Damn it!”

Dustin, hearing the commotion, wanders into the kitchen. “Take it the call didn’t go well?”

“No, it did.” Sure, Steve didn’t necessarily offer his help, but he did tell you where he’s going to be in about twenty minutes. You’ll ambush him there and demand he listen to you and help. As a bonding exercise, of course. “We’re going to the Wheeler’s.”

“Why?”

“Steve’s heading there.”

Dustin trips over his shoelaces. “Steve Harrington?”

“Long story,” you sigh, dreading that you’ll have to explain all of this eventually. “C’mon, let's get our bikes.”

–

You and Dustin get to the Wheeler’s before Steve does, which makes no sense to you but whatever. He’ll be here soon enough and you’ll ambush him with all your charm and maybe a bit of groveling. You’re not beneath it, if you’re being honest.

Dustin goes up to the front door while you stay behind, keeping an eye out for Steve. Ted opens the front door and while you can’t hear what he says to Dustin, you know he’s unamused by his presence. The father has never been your favorite parent within the group, honestly.

You watch as they exchange a few more words before you see Dustin sigh and angrily march back towards you. Then, right as he’s grabbed his bike, a familiar red BMW pulls up. Just seeing his car makes your heart skip a beat.

The car parks and a frazzled Steve steps out, carrying flowers and mumbling to himself. You aren’t able to hear everything he’s saying, but you can hear the words “what the hell am I sorry for?” and your stomach twists.

So clearly he’s not in a good mood. Still.

The flowers, which you now can see are roses, hang by Steve’s side as he fixes his hair. He hasn’t noticed you yet, and it takes everything within you to pull your eyes away. He looks good today, too good.

There’s a monster currently locked in your cellar.

“Steve!” You rush over to his side.

He does a double take when he sees you. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“Well–”

“Are those for Mr. or Mrs. Wheeler?” Dustin now joins you two, pointing at the roses in the boy’s hand.

Steve looks between the two of you. “No…? You’re Dustin, right? Y/N’s brother?”

Dustin snatches the roses out of his hand. “Good, and yeah, I am.”

“Hey, what the hell?” Steve looks at you for help, but you know there’s no use trying to reason with your brother. He’s in a mood, similar to Steve, and you just sigh and follow Dustin. “Hey!”

“Nancy isn’t home.” Your brother informs Steve.

“Where is she?” Steve asks, and you hit his shoulder.

“I tried telling you over the phone!”

Dustin claps his hands at you to get your guys’ attention again. “It doesn’t matter where she is or if you tried to warn him, Y/N. We have bigger problems than your love lives.”

He’s at Steve’s car now and opens the passenger side door. “Do you still have that bat?”

Steve whips his head towards you. “Bat? What the hell is he talking about? Y/N, what are you guys doing here–”

“The one with the nails!” Dustin interrupts, exasperated.

Again Steve looks at you. “Why?”

“You’re not gonna like it,” you confess, and this only makes Steve feel worse.

“We’ll explain it on the way.” Dustin goes to sit in the passenger seat but he’s quickly stopped when you grab his hood and yank him out.

“No, absolutely not. I deserve the passenger seat, not you.”

Dustin slaps you away. “I got here first.”

“I was born first–”

“But I was literally about to sit down–”

“Hey!” Steve shouts, effectively shutting you and Dustin up. “It’s my car, and right now I currently only like Y/N, so she gets the passenger seat.”

“You like Y/N?” Dustin asks at the same time as you ask, “You like me?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, barely. She’s on thin ice. But you, little Henderson? You just stole the flowers meant for my girlfriend, so backseat you go.”

“Yes!” You cheer, pumping your fist in the air as you flash Steve a smile. “Thanks, Harrington.”

He rounds the front of his car and opens the driver's side door. “Yeah, don’t get used to it. Like I said, you’re still on thin ice.”

He says it with annoyance in his voice, but you can see the smile he’s trying hard not to let slip, and you feel giddy. Steve obviously can’t be too mad at you if he wanted to talk later and is willingly letting himself be kidnapped by your brother.

Dustin, on the other hand, can’t believe any of this is happening. As soon as you’re all in the car he asks, “Since when did you two become friends?”

“I have a life outside of you and the boys, you know,” you tell him, but you avoid Steve’s gaze. It’s not like you intentionally hid this aspect of your life from Dustin, but… It also never came up, either.

“Sure ya do, but… Wait,” Dustin remembers something. “Oh my god, you have Steve Harrington’s number memorized?”

Your face heats up and Steve hides a smirk, but you see it anyway. You ignore his smugness and respond to your brother. “Like I said, I have a life outside of you.”

Dustin gapes at you. “I have so many questions–”

“I have an even better one: where am I taking you guys?” Steve asks, and suddenly you remember everything at stake.

“My house,” you tell him as you buckle up. He nods, although with some confusion, and then starts the engine. “You know how I called you earlier?”

“Yeah…?”

“Dustin, why don’t you tell Steve here what you found.”

Your brother sighs from the backseat. “A few days ago I found this… lizard of sorts.”

“A lizard.” Steve says, unimpressed.

“Oh, just wait,” you quip.

Dustin turns his head to glare at you and you give him a thumbs up. He scoffs at you before carrying on, “Yes, a lizard. I named him Dart and he was super cool, okay? I thought I had discovered a new species and that I would be super famous and better than everyone else.”

Steve glances at you next to him, raising his eyebrows and whistling low. “Wow, does humbleness run in your family, Y/N?”

“I’d say so, yeah.”

“Anyways,” Dustin interrupts, ignoring Steve’s laugh at your response. “Turns out, Dart is from the Upside Down.”

“The Upside Down?” Steve asks, extremely confused. He looks at you again in the mirror and it hits you that no one explained to him the events from last year. You assumed that Nancy would’ve, seeing as how they’ve been together for a while now and Steve had been with you guys at the hospital the night you brought Will back.

However, from his disbelief and confusion it’s clear that she hasn’t. If you had to guess, Steve probably went home that night and blocked out everything that had gone down with no questions asked.

You respect his repressing skills, honestly.

Dustin groans, beginning to grow impatient with Steve. “Yes, the Upside Down. If you have the bat still, how could you not know–”

“Do you remember that… thing we killed at Jonathan’s last year?” You cut your brother off before he can get too mean. You love the kid, you do, but he isn’t the kindest person when others aren't understanding him.

A dark look passes over Steve’s face and his fingers tighten around the steering wheel. It’s night now, and the atmosphere in the car becomes tense. “I remember.”

You clear your throat, “Well, this creature–”

“Demodog.” Dustin corrects from the backseat.

“Demodog?” You turn in your seat to face him. “That’s what we’re calling it now? Seriously?”

He shrugs. “It’s a baby demogorgon, it looks like a dog, so… Demodog.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Alright. Okay. Whatever, this demodog is from the Upside Down. It’s this parallel universe, basically. Creepy shit happens there, and last year a monster–”

“The Demogorgon.” Dustin once more interrupts.

“Dustin, if you want to catch Steve up then for the love of god, please shut up.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, embarrassed.

A smile tugs at Steve’s lips and you take a deep breath to calm yourself before continuing. “Look, I don’t know how much Nancy told you about that night at Jonathan’s, but all that you need to know is that the Demogorgon took Will last year and we had to fight it in order to save him.”

Steve nods slightly as he follows along, “Nancy mentioned something about a monster at the hospital… she told me it’s what killed Barb, but never told me it had a name.”

Another silence falls between you guys in the car. The mention of Barb brings back bad memories for you both. You had liked Barb, she had always been nice to you, you guess. Hawkins is a small town. Everyone knows everyone, and in the end the smallness of the town is what makes the Upside Down so hard. You lose people close to you, one way or another.

And as for Steve… The roses he bought for Nancy lay wilted in his backseat.

Dustin shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and your heart pangs in understanding. He misses El, and you do too. The closer it gets to the anniversary of her disappearance, the more you miss the sweet and caring girl; but you know that the boys, Mike especially, haven’t given up hope for her.

“So…” Steve motions for you guys to continue explaining, and Dustin sits up in his seat to begin again.

“So flash forward to now: I didn’t realize Dart was a demodog until he grew like three damn sizes bigger than when I found him. Y/N and I almost died trying to lock him in our cellar.”

“Wait, you guys have a cellar?”

Dustin rubs his face, “That’s what you focus on, Steve?”

“It’s a valid question–”

“Guys!” You lurch yourself forward and wave your hands around wildly to break up their bickering. “We really don’t have time for this. Can we please just focus on the task at hand? Dart has probably grown even more during the course of this stupid conversation.”

Your brother’s hand pushes your shoulder back so that you’re now once again sitting, and you swat him away with annoyance. “Y/N, I’m trying! Blame Steve, he’s the one asking stupid questions–”

Steve speaks up, “What the hell? They aren’t stupid questions–”

“Well…”

Steve shoots you an offended look, “Y/N, I thought you were on my side.”

Dustin scoffs, hurt. “She’s my sister, you idiot!”

“Again, we seriously don’t have time for this because, once more: Dart is getting really big.” Your voice is louder this time, and thankfully it shuts everyone up. Then, just because you can, you add, “and I’m on Steve’s side right now. He’s the one with the car, plus… Well, I owe him.”

Steve fist pumps the air. “Suck it, little Henderson.”

“Do not call me that,” Dustin threatens him, then turns his attention to you. “First Jonathan, now Steve? Can’t you befriend anyone I like?”

The mention of Jonathan gets Steve attention. “Wait a sec, where is the guy? You never actually told me where he and Nancy went, Y/N.”

You sigh, knowing there’s no use keeping anything else from him. He’s already driving you and Dustin home to help with Dart, and you did promise to tell him where they were later, but life seemingly got in the way. “They’re playing detective right now.”

“Detective?”

“Yeah, the guy Barb’s parents hired… They’re currently at his place, exposing Hawkin’s Lab.”

A tense silence follows. Steve stares straight ahead, eyes on the road, as his expressions morph from hurt, to reluctance, to eventual acceptance. “Nance didn’t think to ask me to join?”

His voice wavers, just a bit, but you hear it. Knowing that Dustin is watching from the back, you decide to forget any possible boundaries for once and grab Steve’s hand. He’s hurting. The car smells of roses and there’s no girl to give them to. “She tried, Steve.”

He swallows. There’s hurt in his eyes and you want to reach out and stroke his cheek and tell him that it isn’t his fault. “I know…”

“Ahem,” Dustin coughs, clearly uncomfortable with whatever is going on. “So… Back to Dart.”

You clear your own throat, but your hand remains wrapped around Steve’s, who nods. “Wait a sec, how big are we talking?”

Without meaning to, you close your eyes and brace for Dustin’s witty remarks, but he surprises you by answering with a demonstration and zero mockery. “First it was like that,” he opens his fingers a few inches before using both hands to show about a foot in length. “Now he’s like this.”

Steve still looks doubtful. “And you’re sure it isn’t some weird lizard?”

A headache begins to form and you pinch the bridge of your nose again. “It’s not a lizard, Steve.”

“Well how do you know?”

“Because his face opened up and he ate our cat.” Dustin says bluntly.

This seems to shut Steve up and he nods his head in defeat. It’s silent in the car for the remainder of the drive, and just before Steve parks in your driveway, he looks over at you and sees your eyes closed in pain, and before he knows it he squeezes your hand and says, “sorry about your cat, by the way.”

Despite the pounding in your head and your utter exhaustion, his words make you laugh. “Just park, Steve.”

He smiles, feeling proud for getting you to laugh, and does as he’s told. Before you know it you’re standing at his trunk, staring at the baseball bat that saved your life last year. Dustin has already gone over to the cellar, waiting for you and Steve to follow.

The bat stares back at you, and you shiver as the memories come back. Though you had tried your best to forget that night, that entire week, honestly, it’s been useless. The nightmares still haunt you. You obsessively research trauma in children now to compensate for your own guilt from last year.

“Why’d you keep the bat?” You ask as Steve grabs it, giving it a practice swing. Your own blades are out again and he eyes their gleam.

“It’s kinda sick, don’t ya think?” He swings it again. “I look badass with it.”

He’s dodging, but you sense that he kept the bat for the same reason as why you kept the switchblade. You’ve been waiting in fear for something else to happen. “You don’t look too bad with it.”

Steve blushes a bit, which your stomach flutters seeing. “I, uh… Guess we can’t have that talk tonight?”

“No, not unless we somehow manage to deal with Dart in a timely manner. However, if I recall, nothing ever goes our way.”

“Nope!” He closes the trunk and tosses you a flashlight. Then, he sticks his hand out for you to shake. “But for now… Truce?”

You giggle. “Truce.”

His hand is warm, and even though you had just been holding it in the car moments earlier, his touch still fills you with a gooey warmth that you’ve come to associate with him. As soon as you and him are alone, away from Dustin’s nosy ears, you’ll really apologize to Steve. He may be being nice to you now, but he’s still guarding himself from you.

You hate it. You miss how open he used to be with you.

“Ready to go re-live my nightmares?” Steve asks.

You give him a thumbs up as you start heading towards Dustin. “Always, let’s go.”

“Took you guys long enough.” Your brother mutters when you and Steve arrive at the cellar, weapons in hand. You flash him an apologetic smile while Steve simply ignores him.

Steve approaches the door and listens for a second, “I don’t hear shit.”

You frown and listen as well. He’s right, it’s eerily silent. You shoot Dustin a questioning look and he shrugs as well, “He’s in there.”

“Duh, I know that much, You almost knocked me out when you shoved past me to get Dart in there.” you remark, before softly adding “he’s gotta be in there.”

Your words don’t reassure Steve, who begins to use the tip of his bat to bang against the locked doors. When nothing happens, he bangs harder against them before sighing in annoyance.

“All right, listen kid.” Steve begins, and you start to rub small circles into your scalp in a vain attempt to lessen your headache, because you already know that the next words out of his mouth will start yet another fight. “I swear, if this is some sort of Halloween prank, you’re dead.”

“Steve…” He ignores you and stares down your brother, shining the flashlight directly at his face in what you assume is meant to be a threatening manner.

“It's not a prank,” Dustin tiredly replies, squinting his eyes against the light. “Get it out of my face.”

Steve complies, still hesitant about the situation at hand, and turns to face you. “You got a key to this thing?”

You nod and fish the keys from out of your pocket and unlock the cellar doors. Steve bends down to investigate, and without him having to ask, you hand him the flashlight and step forward so that you’re next to him.

He flashes the light down the stairs and all that the three of you can see is darkness. An uneasy feeling creeps over you. Something isn’t right, but you really hope that you’re wrong.

“He has to be further down,” you say, more so to reassure yourself than the others.

Dustin shuffles his feet next to you and says, with an extremely unconvincingly “brave” voice, “I’ll stay up here in case he tries to… escape.”

Both you and Steve look at him in disbelief. Dustin stands his ground, however, and looks at the two of you expectantly. Steve shakes his head while you sigh in defeat. Your brother is such a pain sometimes.

“You do realize that if Dart eats me, you’ll have to deal with mom all by yourself, right?” You ask him.

The boy shrugs at you. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take, Y/N.”

“Yeah, love you too.” You mumble, before you begin to follow Steve down the steps.

“I’ll be thinking of you!” Dustin calls out, his voice echoing against the cellar walls.

You trail behind Steve, and the flashlight he brought does nothing to illuminate the dark area, so it’s a relief when he reaches above his head to turn the light on. As your eyes adjust to the light change, you scan the room to find the missing demodog. However, all your eyes land on is a long, thin sheet of film on the ground that you can only assume is molted skin.

“Oh, shit…” you breathe out. “This isn’t good.”

Steve picks the skin up with the tip of his bat and examines it and shakes his head. “Please tell me this isn’t Dart.”

“Actually, it’d be easier if it was him.”

Steve doesn’t laugh at your joke; he continues to look around the room before his eyes widen. You turn your head to see what’s caught his attention, and when you spot the problem, your knees weaken.

There’s a giant, Dart-sized hole in your cellar wall.

“Steve? Y/N? What’s going on down there?” Dustin’s voice carries down to you guys, and you and Steve share a nervous glance.

“Dustin…” You call up to him, your voice weaker than you’d prefer. You wish you could be braver for him at the moment, but right now it takes everything within you not to crawl into bed and shut the world out. Why did it always have to be giant monsters?

While you’re reeling, Steve walks over to the bottom of the steps and flashes his light at Dustin, instructing him to come down. Once the boy has joined you guys, Steve guides the light to his bat so that Dustin can see the skin.

“Oh, shit.”

“Funnily enough, that’s what your sister said, too.”

Then Steve shines the light to where the hole in the wall is, and you watch Dustin’s face go from concerned to horrified. “Oh, shit!”

The three of you crouch closer to the hole, and when Steve shines the flashlight through it, your heart stops and you gasp, “It’s a tunnel.”

“No way…” Dustin says in awe.

It’s hard to see exactly how deep the tunnel goes, but something tells you that there’s more to it than meets the eye. This wouldn’t be some simple fix like you had desperately hoped it would be.

Now you really, really wish Jonathan were here. And Nancy. Definitely Nancy.

But they aren’t. This time, you’re on your own with only Steve and Dustin by your side. No one else in the party is available, you don’t even know where they are or if they’re even safe, but right now that doesn’t matter.

What matters is that Dart has escaped.

And it’s happening again.

Everything you’ve tried so hard for the last year to ignore, to move on and pretend never happened to you, has come crashing back into your life.

Steve, seeing your apprehension, grabs your hand and pulls you in close. “Hey, we’ll figure it out. I’ll be here, okay?”

Even though you don’t deserve his kindness, his sincerity, you believe him.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

⌑  taglist: @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau @myeclispedsun @innercreationflower @juhdoche @frostandflamesfanfic @goosy-goose @quinnsadilla @munsons-queen @stefansring @rice-elephant @bex22109 @bitchkeery @bex22109 @officerrrfriendly @kazunish @idkitsem @emilieluckwood @ryoujoking @criesinlies @tagakalat @dcnerd98 @sucker-4-angst

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wtlws #m's writing #dart just wanted a quick snack guys #also dustin n bug are so so so sibling rn #i love em

[uc1wa]

We got uni!dick x virgin!fem!reader (delicious writing btw) but what about frat boy! or uni!jason x virgin!fem!reader 👀?

unlike his older brother, jason is cool, calm, and collected. jason takes his time with you—not because he wants to, but because he knows as soon as he makes the first move, he’ll have you like a bee to honey. he’s confident in himself and in your attraction towards him, but it doesn’t drip off of him the way it does with dick.

instead, jason pulls you in with small touches. using knuckles to push your hair behind your shoulder, hand resting on your thigh when he’s helping you study, getting close enough that he can smell the lingering coffee on your breath but doesn’t dare to kiss you.

it’s like a game to him. hell, what type of frat brother would he be if girls weren’t more than a game to him?

when he’s asking you about guys one day, asking you about his fraternity brother, roy, and the way you got real close to him at the last kickback he invited you to, it’s only strategy to figure out just how many bodies you have.

the words ‘virgin’ leave your lips, and jason eggs you on to say exactly what he wants you to say.

"what would make you wanna lose it? i’m not gonna believe you if you’re a ‘wait ‘till marriage’ type of girl," he snickers, his chin sitting in the palm of his hand as he sits backward on a spinning chair. big thighs on either side of the back of the seat.

the question makes you laugh, "haven’t found a guy I liked enough," you smile through your lashes, and jason doesn’t miss the shy look to the side you give your wall before meeting his eyes once more.

"ya haven’t?" jason questions. not out of self-consciousness, but more-so to play into what you want to hear. "don’t you think you’ll be embarrassed to tell the guy who you decide to fuck that you’re a virgin? some guys don’t like that," he huffs like it’s nothing. but now your brows furrow, and your head tilts to the side.

"guys don’t like virgins? i thought guys usually like when girls are virgins," a nervous laugh slips past your lips, and he has you right where he wants you. he nods, "most of my brothers hate when they have to fuck a virgin. they have to be patient and nice and all that. they’d rather fuck somebody with a little experience."

jason’s lying through white teeth. guys like him love a tight pussy, but he loves it just a little more than all the other guys. he craves the purity that reeks from you, craves knocking off the invisible halo from the crown of your head with a nice, good, first fuck.

"y'know, i could always show you how to have sex. won't make anything weird, promise," jason offers with a cock of his brow, words falling off his tongue like it's a casual conversation. like he's fucked hundreds of people, well... because he has, but you haven't.

"are you sure it wouldn't be, like... weird?" you ask with a rapidly increasing heartbeat, nervousness taking over your senses. it's hard to meet the dark eyes that haven't left yours; overwhelming intensity felt under his gaze, your skin heatening while jason barely bats an eye.

a genuine and sweet smile spread across his lips. "i've had hookups before, y'know i don't linger hard on girls. plus, you're my friend. I won't make things weird," jason begins stepping out of the seat he's sat in, making his way with heavy steps towards the edge of the bed until he's looking down at your form.

a hand rests on your thigh, and not another question is asked. jason leads you to lay down, takes your pretty panties off, and shamelessly shoves them in his pocket without a second thought. he's spreading your legs with ease, but it's when you're singing sweet moans on his big cock that he's oh-so grateful to have you as a friend.

this is what friendship is all about, right? luring your sweet virgin friend to your cock 'till she comes back drooling.

#thank you baby :3 im so glad you like my writing #omfg free fic that i found in my drafts yessssss im so glad i wrote this like a month ago so i have SMTH #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x fem!reader

[tragedybunny]

Just the Way I Am - Astarion x F!Reader - Mildly NSFW, TW: Mentions of past sexual trauma, drugging oneself

I'm not really sure I like this at all, but since I put so much time into, I'm posting it.

Astarion feels he's lacking because he can't have sex with you. He resorts to a potion in an attempt to give you what he thinks you want.

You had stopped at the potion shop in Wyrm's Crossing, looking for some herbs or something Gale had wanted. Astarion hadn't been paying a terrible amount of attention, he was just happy to run an errand with you only, and none of the rest of the hangers-on. They were alright, he'd concede if asked, but you were getting closer to Cazador and the Brain, and whatever else was going on in Baldur's Gate, and his time with you felt so limited. The two of you could meander around a bit after this and just be together. 

So of course this was taking forever. Currently he was entertaining himself by pacing irritatedly around the shop while the clerk painstakingly found, measured, and packed, all of Gale's list. He sighs and you shoot him a look of irritation causing him to wince internally. The last thing he wants is for you to be angry with him. So he goes back to quietly pacing. 

That's when his eyes spot it, on the upper shelf of a potion display rack, a heart shaped bottle full of a pink liquid. Amor Maius, the love enhancer, the hand written description below it reads, continuing, increase your arousal, spend longer with your beloved. His mind wanders back to the Drow twins the other day at Sharess Caress, and how you insisted you hadn’t been interested in their “services” but he’d seen the way your eyes got wide just looking at them, hells, he’d heard your pulse increase. You weren't just slightly interested, you were very much aroused at the thought. It was probably his fault, he’d failed to provide you with release. Even if you protested that sex wasn’t necessary, he remembered how much you enjoyed it, the way your heart would thunder as soon as you two were alone, how wet you got for him, so eager to be filled, having to put his fingers in your mouth to suck on to quiet your noises lest you wake the whole camp. You shouldn’t be expected to live in chastity and it was only a matter of time before you realized you didn’t want a broken thing like him, a thing that couldn’t even give you one of life’s simplest pleasures. But if he could find a way to give that to you…

A quick glance tells him you and the clerk are still thoroughly occupied and he moves along to get a better angle, waiting. The clerk ducks down behind the counter to retrieve something and lightning quick, Astarion is back at the shelf, tucking the bottle in his pack. He takes another loop of the shop and sighs again, just to keep normal appearances. “Astarion,” you scold and he comes to the counter to wrap and arm around your waist and kiss your cheek.

“We’ve been in here forever,” he wheedles and he sees your irritation give way. 

“I know, almost done, then I promise no more errands.” Your hand reaches down to cover his, where it rests against your waist. Every one of your touches fills him with the softest warmth, he couldn’t bear to lose you, and tonight he’ll make sure he won’t. 

The two of you spend the rest of the afternoon wandering around Baldur’s Gate with no real destination, simply chatting and being with each other. It’s lovely to just be in your presence, every so often stopping to kiss you softly and delight in how you wrap your arms around his neck and put your soul into it every time. With night falling you make your way back to the Elfsong and Astarion sends you upstairs to deliver Gale’s damned herbs while he stops to make an inquiry. 

You’ve already got your pack off and seem to be settling in when he finds you. Leaning in, he whispers sultrily into your ear. “The private room is empty tonight, we could go make use of it, if you want.” 

He smiles at the way your breath hitches. “Are you sure,” your eyes meet his, bright with love and concern despite your rising arousal. 

“Absolutely Darling,” you know him so well, he can only hope he's convincing enough. 

"That sounds nice," pretty pink tinges your skin as you take his hand. 

The two of you make your way down the hall, leaving the noisy common room and your companions behind. There's a single bed in the cozy space and a bath in a little adjacent room. Wyll and Karlach have made use of it before, but it's the first time he's dared bring you here. Brushing your hair behind your ear, he trails his fingers down your cheek. "Warm bath, relax a little and see where the night takes us," he suggests, feeling the panic start to rise, knowing what you'll be expecting now. The potion will help, he just needs to get that far. 

“Whatever you feel up to my Love,” you tilt your face to catch his palm in a kiss and your tender care has him fighting back a sob. There’s not a day that you don’t give him everything he could ask for, more than he ever dreamt he could have. 

He has to give you this one thing, he wants to so badly, but already he can feel his mind trying to pull away, to distance itself from his body in anticipation. “Go on ahead, let me get settled. I’ll join you shortly.” 

As soon as you're out of sight, bath water running, he throws open his pack. His chest throbs, like a weight is pushing down on it and the edges of his vision are going blurry, he needs that damn potion now. Somehow it slipped under the rest of the contents in his pack. "Damn," he mutters, violently tossing things around until a pink glint is revealed. Salvation. 

Quickly he snatches it up, scrambling to get the stopper out. Pausing for a second, it occurs to him that he doesn't know how much to take. He'll just down some and sneak off if he needs more he decides. The taste is sickly sweet and it burns all the way down his throat. For a moment he pauses, waiting for it to kick in, worried it isn’t what it promised. Then it’s like every color in the room is a thousand times more vibrant and he can smell the intoxicating scent of you from here. Already he’s growing hard, hand idly reaching down to stroke himself, and then the world goes black. 

When next he wakes he’s staring at the ceiling, head throbbing. Did he just pass out? “Are you finally back?” You’re right next to him, and gods, you don’t sound happy. The missing moments start to come in flashes, the bath, his hands all over you, the bed, and then you telling him to stop. A light, a spell, you’d done something to stop him. 

“I…” What is there to even say? 

“What in the hells were you thinking Astarion?! I found the bottle. I'm not stupid, I know what that was. Why?” Not only are you furious with him, but there’s so much sadness in your voice too. 

 “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, rolling on his side to face away from you, he can’t bear to look at you right now. 

“Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?” The edge has come off your voice, you probably think he’s too pathetic to waste your anger on.

"Lying,” he asks instead of answering. 

Sighing, you put a hand delicately on his shoulder. “I trusted you to be truthful with me. How can I do the right thing when you do something like this?”

“I wanted to make you happy, to give you everything. I just needed a little help to get there,” he pulls his knees up to his chest, making himself as small as possible, an old habit of self-preservation. Tears are starting to threaten, as if he hadn't embarrassed himself enough. 

“Astarion,” your voice is unexpectedly gentle, “are you able to keep talking?”

Desperately, he wants to, to keep explaining himself but he feels like he's drowning. His mouth opens but nothing comes out. He can feel you shifting around on the bed, like you want to lean over to comfort him but hold back. Another blow he’ll endure. Everything seems like it’s slipping away from him. But you’re full of surprising mercy. “Can I hold you? Just nod.” He does as you say, not daring to look up, and your arms loops around him as the soothing weight of your presence presses against his back. 

The two of you lay there in silence for a long time, you don’t press him anymore but you don’t abandon him either. Soft kisses on his shoulders keep him from unraveling completely.  Finally he finds his voice. “I didn’t mean for it to be like this.” 

“Did you think how I’d feel if I found out I hurt you?” 

“I-I,” his mind races, what answer is right, what will appease you. “No, I was just scared to lose you.” Finally he settles on the truth, plainly spoken, because he can’t make things any worse than they are. "Because I can't give you something so simple."

“Part of me is angry that you think so little of me,” he starts to protest and you shush him, “but I know it’s hard for you.” Warm fingers entangle with his and he lets himself hope. “I’ll say it one more time, and I need you to believe me. Starry Sky, if we never have sex again, you’re worth it. But you can’t do anything like this to me anymore.” 

He wants to believe, with all his heart, it’s just so hard. He nods, “I promise.”

Your lips caress his cheek and he closes his eyes, drinking the feeling in. "Do you want to go back to the other room?" 

Thoughts of having to go back, to lose you to the noise and the attention of others are too much. "Could we stay here, just for a little while?" 

“We can stay here as long as you want.” He turns over, burying his head in your chest, suddenly desperate for the feel of you. 

Soothing fingers brush through his hair, and your hand gently strokes his back. He knows he should believe you, knows you love him more than he ever thought possible, but the shadows and darkness inside still whisper that he's not enough, not the way he is. 

#astarion #astarion x reader #x reader #astarion x f!reader #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #my fanfic #my writing

[bleedingoptimism]

Calling Eddie on the phone that first time, when he’d panicked about Tarja’s cold, was like opening a dam. They start talking on the phone all the time. At first, it’s always about Tarja, photos of her drawings, a story about school, questions of whether she forgot her plushie in Steve’s car again or not.

But then it’s just them chatting, asking about their day, showing each other what they are working on, or sharing a meme. Soon, they start wishing each other goodnight and Steve knows he’s stepping into deep water with both feet at the same time but he can’t stop.

He likes Eddie, a lot. He’s in too deep already. He was already halfway in love with him when he realized he liked him as much more than a friend… That he liked him much more than he liked his own boyfriend. That he doesn't even like his boyfriend…

But if Steve was dreading breaking up with Tommy not to lose Tarja… now that he has double the people to lose… There’s no way.  Thinking about not seeing them again makes him feel like he’ll never be able to take a full breath of fresh air again. 

They are hanging out at the park the day Steve completely loses control of the situation. He’d promised Tarja he’d take her there last week and Tarja had begged Eddie to join them so now, they are sitting side by side on a bench watching Tarja build sand castles with another kid in the playground.

The comfortable silence gets interrupted by Steve’s phone going off and, checking his messages, he sighs, already bothered by seeing it’s from Tommy.

‘get your big pretty ass home soon. i have guests tonight’

‘Big? Shit. Is my ass too big?’ He thinks as he frowns at his phone.

“Everything ok?” Eddie asks, looking at him curious.  

“We need to get back, it’s Tommy” is all Steve says, shaking his phone in explanation. He can’t help but pull a face of exasperation trying to make light of the situation but Eddie frowns.

“Steve, about Tommy… If he’s not good to yo-” 

“You sound like Robin” Steve interrupts, he’s talked to Eddie about his best friend before, but he never mentioned Robin is always telling him to break up with Tommy. 

“Well, then I’m not that far off am I?” Eddie presses kindly, ducking his head to try and catch Steve’s eyes.

But Steve keeps them fixed on his shoes. There’s a stain on the tip of his left one. 

Eddie takes his silence as agreement and keeps going, “Why haven’t you broken up with him, then?”

Why does Eddie want him to break up with Tommy? Is he trying to get rid of him? Does he not like him around? No, it’s not that. Eddie is his friend, he’s kind and lovely and has never once been mean or rude to him and Steve needs to stop projecting.

But, he can’t answer that or tell Eddie the truth, he thinks. And then, his eyes betray him, drifting from the floor to Tarja, who is now…being buried in the sand with the help of the other kid. Her little feet kick up as she giggles delighted. He smiles to himself a little. That kid, she’s a menace.

Eddie gasps and Steve realizes his mistake. He looks at him and Eddie is looking back, eyes huge,

“Steve… don’t tell me, it’s-”

Steve shakes his head no frantically, “No, it's not- there’s a lot of reasons! It’s not- Ugh fine, it’s not only because of her but, she’s one of the reasons…” he struggles to say.

And then he shrugs, like ‘What can you do? Hehe’ Because he’s an idiot.

Eddie stares at him for a long time, unblinking and with his mouth half open, “You’d do that for her?” he whispers and it sounds so… raw.

Steve just looks at him, not knowing what to say and trying really hard not to get distracted by Eddie’s beautiful lips.

He suddenly turns to face him properly and takes Steve’s hand with both of his, “Fuck, Steve…” he says and then closes his mouth shut and opens it again. Steve leans a little closer eager to hear whatever Eddie wants to say but then his phone rings and he jumps off his seat, startled.

Looking at the caller ID, he curses, “It’s Tommy”

He picks up the call and starts walking in a big circle, he can never sit still while on the phone,

“Hey,”

“Hey dummy, you didn’t answer. Is everything ok?” Tommy asks like he’s actually worried and not just impatient.

‘Dummy’... it’s supposed to be affectionate but every time Tommy calls him that it feels like he’s sticking a needle in his heart.

“Yeah, we are at the park, we’ll be right there. I’m-” But Tommy hangs up before he can finish the sentence. 

“Asshole,” Steve murmurs to himself and looks back to see Eddie has already collected Tarja and is waiting for him.

Seeing both of them holding hands and smiling up at him makes Steve want to cry and scream at how much he needs them. He’s so fucked.

🧸

A week later, he’s at a dinner with Tommy and Tommy’s coworkers. 

Because Tommy doesn’t have friends, he has coworkers. Because friends are for children.

Or so Tommy says… Fuck Tommy.

He’s bored out of his mind and pushing his food around on his plate. Lost his appetite after Tommy looked at him funny for ordering fries instead of a salad. 

He can’t stop thinking about Eddie, about him asking why he hadn’t broken up with Tommy yet, and about whatever it was that Eddie didn’t say that day.

And then, as if it were fate or something, he gets a message from Eddie, he looks at it under the table when he sees it’s a photo. Not that Eddie would send him a nude or something he just doesn’t want anyone else to see.

However, he might’ve been wrong about the nude because Eddie is shirtless in the photo he sent, Steve notices with burning cheeks.

But the photo is not sensual at all. Instead, it’s the cutest, loveliest thing he’s ever seen in his life. It’s Eddie and Tarja standing in front of the big mirror in Eddie’s hallway with big smiles, identical dimples on their right cheeks. Both their curly hairs are bundled up on top of their heads and they are covered in paint. 

All of Eddie’s tattoos are colored in bright colors, his demon skull, the sword, the dragon, the goat, the vines that adorn his top scars, everything. The colors don’t respect the lines and the paint is dripping a little, clearly Tarja’s work. Meanwhile, she has cute skulls, bats, and roses drawn on her arms, and her freckles are now every color of the rainbow. They are fucking beautiful.

The text below says ‘she forgot toothless at tommy’s. im trying to distract her’

Steve bites his lip to hide a big smile and sends at least a hundred heart eyes emojis and then answers he’ll bring it back later.

“Are we boring you, Steve?” One of Tommy’s coworkers asks. He can hear the venom in her voice.

‘Yes’

“No, not at all. Just answering a text,” he says with a closed-lip smile.

“Oh! Let me guess, from your ‘job’” she laughs, doing air quotes with her claws, and then whines, putting on a voice, “Help me, Steve! I can’t decide what to wear to a party” 

They all laugh, Tommy included and Steve just glares at her unsure if he should rise to the bait or not. 

“Aww, don’t be mad Stevie,” she coos at him, “I’m just messing with ya!” she smirks and then looks at her nails as if she were a disney villain or something, “I wished I’d gone to college for something as simple as fashion. You are very lucky to be so successful,” And they laugh again. Only one of them has the decency of looking uncertain about it and Steve is seething.

Lucky?! He’s worked his ass off to get to- whatever- he takes a deep breath and smiles at her.

God, fuck his people. They are so… miserable.

Making other people feel bad about themselves just because there’s no joy in their own lives. He feels sorry for them.

But Tommy laughing alongside them makes him feel sick to his stomach.

After, when they are going back to his place, Tommy takes one hand off the wheel and puts it on Steve’s thigh slowly going up. Steve briefly considers opening the door and jumping out of the car in motion but ends up just slapping Tommy’s hand off of him aggressively.

Tommy scoffs but he doesn’t say anything and keeps his hands to himself the rest of the way. And when they get home, he confronts Steve, “What’s got your panties in a bunch now, uh? Steve, we haven’t fucked in weeks!”

Steve swirls around and laughs, “Are you shitting me right now?! You want me to let you touch me!? After how you just laughed at the way Carol talked to me?” he says.

“Uhg, not this again! Did you get your feelings hurt again, princess?” Tommy mocks him and Steve rolls his eyes so hard he wishes he could do a backflip to accompany them. Hell, he probably could.

He doesn’t even bother answering Tommy, too sick of his shit, and just walks past him on his way to the door.

“Oh c’mon, Stevie! We were just kidding!” Tommy says, changing his tune completely and trying to sound nice. Then doing another 180 when Steve just keeps getting ready to leave, “Why are you so fucking sensitive. Are you seriously leaving right now?!”

Steve doesn't stop, doesn’t even look at him and Tommy follows him to the door, “Good! Fine! Leave! Run back to your Robin. You’ll be back!” he tells him, and Steve hates that he’s said it before and had been right. But when he’s closing the door as Steve is walking towards his car Tommy yells one more thing that completely breaks him, “You are too much work, Steve! You are not worth this much trouble!”

Steve slams the door of his car and drives away but ends up pulling over a few blocks later because he can’t see through the tears.

He whales and heaves, shaking while he rubs his eyes over and over again. All he can hear in his head is ‘you are not worth it. you are not worth it. you are not worth it. you are not worth it.’

Fuck Tommy.

He takes a deep breath trying to calm himself and rests his head against the headrest, rolling it from right to left and massaging his scalp but when he looks to the left, something in his passenger seat makes him gasp. As if it were fate or something… Toothless, Tarja’s plushie is sitting right beside him.

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#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #trans eddie munson #kid fic #cw: toxic relationship #one more part to go babes! #i wrote something

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Summary: With no friends and the looming threat of losing custody of his son, Eddie's the lowest he's ever been. But you know what they say: “Rock bottom just means there’s nowhere to go except up."

Warnings: angst, visits from CPS, Reader's grandma has Alzheimer's

WC: 6k

Chapter 5/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

The phone rings as Eddie wrestles Harris into his jacket. He still hasn’t figured out how to break the news about his classroom change; at this rate, he’ll be dropping him off at school before he works up the nerve. Is there any good way to tell your kid that he no longer gets to spend his days with his favorite teacher?

“Keep that on,” Eddie instructs Harris, pointing to the navy blue sweatshirt. “I’ll zip it for you in a sec.” He jogs over to the phone, answering with an irritated, “Hello?”

“Ed?” Wayne’s voice drifts from the receiver. “It’s Wayne.”

Eddie nods before remembering that Wayne can’t see him. “Y-Yeah, hey,” he says, tone softening at his uncle’s familiarity. There’s a dull ache in his chest when he thinks of how he willingly shut him out over the last month. “How’ve you been?”

“Good. Can’t complain.” Wayne clears his throat. “I’d love to see you and Harris. Whenever you get the chance.” Eddie can hear his concern, the unasked questions that dissolve on his tongue: Are you okay? Is Harris? Do I need to file that custody agreement?

He glances over at his son, who, despite Eddie’s promise, is unsuccessfully trying to thread the zipper with its teeth. He motions him over, cradling the phone to his ear and stretching the cord while he kneels to fasten the jacket. “We were actually about to head to the park if you wanted to meet us there,” he says. “This kid’s got way too much energy to keep him cooped up in the apartment. We’ll both lose our minds.”

Wayne lets out a kind chuckle. “Sounds like a Munson.” Eddie can hear the tinny jangle of his keys. “The park over on Porter Drive?”

“Yup.”

“Dad, let’s go!” Harris whines, twisting the doorknob back and forth to emphasize his impatience.

“We’ll be there in ten,” Eddie tells Wayne, catching a glimpse of the neon orange cast peeking out from under Harris’s jacket. It’s now adorned with his classmates’ names. Your signature seems to beckon Eddie, taunt him, even, and he tries to convince himself that it’s because it’s the only one that doesn’t resemble chicken scratch. “Oh, Harris broke his wrist, but he’s fine. I’ll explain everything when I see you.”

“Hoo boy,” Wayne breathes. “Definitely a Munson.”

Harris spends the short drive to the park bouncing in his carseat. “Is Grampa Wayne gonna play with me?” he asks, rocking back and forth excitedly.

“Mhm,” Eddie nods, keeping his eyes trained on the road. He nervously thrums his fingers along his jean-clad thighs. What if Wayne still didn’t think he was a responsible parent? What if he took one look at Harris’s injury and raced home to call his lawyer? “But I gotta talk with him first, okay? You can play by yourself for a little while.”

Harris hums his agreement, eagerly unbuckling as soon as Eddie parks the car. He starts to run towards the field, and all Eddie can picture is him tripping and hurting himself again.

“Harris, don’t–” he starts, but he then remembers those magic words: “Walking feet, bud. Don’t want you breaking that other wrist.” He grabs the soccer ball from the trunk and kicks it in Harris’s direction.

Wayne pulls up in his truck a few moments later, almost as exuberant as his grandson. “Har-Bear!” he calls out, opening his arms wide for a hug. Harris picks up his pace, slowing down when he remembers his dad’s instructions.

“I’m using my walking feet!” he chirps proudly, and though they’re fast walking feet, Eddie beams at him.

Wayne squeezes Harris so tightly that Eddie worries he’ll inadvertently cut off his oxygen supply. When the boy starts squirming, Wayne laughs and puts him down.

“Go ahead and play,” Eddie tells his son. “Grampa Wayne and I are gonna catch up real quick.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence as the two men sit on the bench, waiting for the other to say something first. Finally, Wayne breaks through the tension.

“Missed you two,” he murmurs, not looking at Eddie. “‘S too quiet around my place without that little rugrat.”

“We missed you, too,” Eddie admits, chewing on his thumbnail. “Harris won’t stop asking for Grampa Wayne.”

Wayne preens slightly at this, shifting in his seat. “This is the longest we’ve gone without talking since…”

“I know,” Eddie cuts him off, not wanting to revisit the part of his past that Wayne’s referencing. “I, uh, started working at Rock Records,” he tells him, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It sucks, but it’s a job.”

He feels Wayne clap him on the shoulder, pulling him closer to him for a brief side hug. “I’m proud of you, Ed.” He purses his lips before asking, “and no more of the…”

Eddie shakes his head. “Nope, I’m done with that. Returned the rest of what I had to Rick; told him I was out.” His gaze drops back to the ground, and he stares intently at the blades of grass as though they might disappear if he blinks. “But that might not matter anymore anyway, so…”

“The hell you talking about?” Wayne pinches his eyebrows together, adjusting his position to face his nephew.

Sighing, Eddie tells him about what happened at the hospital last week. Wayne’s eyes widen when he hears that they filed a report with CPS. “That’s some bullshit,” he mumbles, scratching at his gray beard. “Kids get hurt all the time. Can’t keep ‘em in a bubble.” He shakes his head incredulously. “They’re not gonna take him from you, okay? They’re gonna see how you provide for him, how great you are with him, and they’re gonna be sorry they wasted their time.”

“I’m not great with him,” Eddie mutters, standing up in a feeble attempt to exert some of his nervous energy. “I’m ruining his life.” He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “He had this teacher, and he adored her. Calls her ‘Ms. Sweetheart.’ And I was just…just a total asshole to her. I accused her of telling people about the CPS thing and said some really fucked up shit about her sick grandma and…fuck, Wayne. She had Harris transferred to another class just so she doesn’t have to deal with me. And now I have to say, ‘Hey, you know that teacher you fuckin’ loved? Well, she’s not your teacher any more, and it’s all my fault.’”

Wayne absorbs the information, contemplating what he says next. “So fix it,” he shrugs.

“It’s not that simple,” Eddie argues, plopping back down onto the bench in defeat. The wood digs into his lower back uncomfortably, so he stands up again.

“It’s not?” Wayne questions, digging a pack of Newports out of his jacket pocket and offering one to him. “Because it sounds to me like you owe this ‘Ms. Sweetheart’ an apology.”

Eddie takes a cigarette, toying with it before tucking it between his lips. It takes a few flicks of his old Bic lighter to get a spark, and he lets the nicotine calm his nerves before speaking again. “I don’t think she’ll forgive me.”

“Never said she would,” Wayne counters, plucking the Bic from Eddie’s hands and bringing the flame to light his own cigarette. “Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t apologize.”

Inhaling sharply, Eddie watches his son kick the ball around before letting out a slow, controlled exhale. “My boss asked if I could teach guitar lessons once or twice a week,” he says, using his empty hand to toy with the frayed holes in his jeans. “If…if you wanna, could you watch Harris? I can pay you.”

“Don’t insult me, boy,” Wayne scoffs, but a playful smile dances on his lips. “You’re not gonna pay me to watch my own grandson. Just let me know the day and time, and I’ll have a pot of mac and cheese ready to go.”

The pent-up tension dissipates from his body at Wayne’s easy agreement. An unspoken I love you floats between them, and he could cry from the sudden surge of relief.

“Daddy! Grampa!” Harris calls out from across the park. “Let’s play!”

Wayne stands up with a grunt, rolling his shoulders back to loosen them up. “You heard the man,” he jokes. “Up and at ‘em.”

It’s your first day off of work since the start of the school year, yet all you can think about are your students. Well, one particular student and his god-awful father. Eddie’s comment replays in your mind, cutting through you like the chilly mid-October air. The sting still hasn’t faded, despite it being three days since he’d said it. 

You say goodbye to your grandma and Elise, her home health aid, grabbing your car keys and closing the door behind you. This morning was already overwhelming; Grandma had woken up at 5 AM, ready to start her day. The sound of her TV blasting at the highest possible volume jolted you from your sleep, and you’d spent the following twenty minutes trying to persuade her to go back to bed. Unsuccessfully, you might add. 

You wince when you see your reflection in the rearview mirror. Your eyes are puffy and bloodshot, with pouches developing beneath them that only emphasize your exhaustion. You practice smiling a few times before starting the car, peeling out of the parking lot to meet Jess, Viv, and Jeff for lunch.

The pleasant aroma of burgers cooking on a grill wafts past your nose as you push open the doors to the restaurant. It isn’t too crowded when you arrive; you assume that the usual lunchtime rush is quelled by the Columbus Day holiday. Your new friends are already waiting at the table, waving you over excitedly.

“Hey,” you call out, forcing pleasantries into your otherwise flat tone. You slide into the seat next to Jess and across from Jeff. “How’s everyone been?”

“Better, now that I’m out of the first trimester,” Viv says with a small laugh. “Now that I have my appetite back, I’m definitely getting the grilled cheese.” She glances at the menu again, adding, “and a side of fries.”

Jess nods. “I think I’ll do the same.” She turns to you and her cheerful expression shifts to one of concern. “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah, just tired.” Your lackluster reply is unconvincing, but she doesn’t challenge it in front of Jeff and her sister. “Chasing after kids all day is wearing me out.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Viv exclaims, taking a sip of her water. “You’re a preschool teacher. The one with Eddie’s kid in your class!”

“Mhm,” you manage; the mere mention of Eddie’s name turns your throat into sandpaper. “Well, not any more, I guess.” Your throwaway comment is met with inquisitive stares, so you give the group a rundown of last week’s events, watching their eyes grow wide.

“He’s such a fucking douche,” Jess grumbles, resting her hand over yours. It feels like forever since you’ve experienced the simplicity of a kind gesture, and you have to swallow the emotion that comes with it. 

“Seriously,” Viv agrees, looking over at Jeff. “Why were you even friends with him?”

Jeff lets out a terse chuckle and shakes his head. “Believe it or not, he actually used to be a good guy. The best, in my opinion.” Disappointment flashes across his face as he continues. “Something changed when he went to Chicago. He was always on-guard, had his walls up, but it used to be more of an ‘if you mess with me, I’ll mess with you’ attitude. But when he came back home, he was…different.”

“Different how?” Curiosity gets the best of you, and the question slips off of your tongue before you can stop it.

“It was like he was determined to hurt people before they could hurt him. No matter what I did, he never fully believed that I was on his side. I was constantly trying to prove that I wasn’t out to fuck him over.”

Viv drapes an arm over her fiancé’s shoulder. “How long did he live in Chicago, again?”

“Long enough to knock someone up,” Jeff muses, mind wandering for a moment before he brings himself back to the conversation. “About four years, I think? He left to chase his dreams of being a rockstar. Then one day, he shows back up in Hawkins with an infant, trying to act like nothing had changed.” He snorts at the very idea of it. “But it obviously did–I mean, besides the fact that he had a whole child, the rest of us had grown up, too. College, work, all that stuff.

“When he suggested getting Corroded Coffin back together, we figured, why not? It seemed like a decent way to chill out, blow off some steam at the end of the day.”

“Let me guess,” you chime in, cocking your head knowingly. “Eddie had other ideas.”

Jeff nods. “He still wanted to do the rockstar thing. And he’d always get angry at us because we didn’t. Not professionally, anyway. Kept mocking us for having 9-to-5 jobs, like it was the worst thing in the world.” He pauses, screwing up his face in contemplation. “Which, come to think of it, was weird. Because back in high school, he told me that it really messed with him, not having that stability growing up. Y’know, before Wayne took him in.”

There’s so much more you want to know, but the waiter striding over to the table to take orders brings the conversation to a natural conclusion. What you’ve gathered so far is that Eddie Munson is a many-layered man, each one more puzzling than the last. Despite your festering hurt and anger, you can’t help but hope that he untethers himself from his complicated past. If not for his sake, then for Harris’s.

“Daddy, what’s a new cents?”

Eddie’s taking the left turn onto the main road when he hears his son speaking from the back seat. “What’s new since when?” he asks, craning his head to check for oncoming traffic. 

“Noooo,” Harris whines, letting out an exasperated sigh. Eddie has no clue where his new attitude came from, and he can’t say that he’s a fan. “A new cents.”

“That’s not a thing, buddy,” Eddie answers, starting to twist the radio knob. 

“Yes, it is!” Harris insists, clearly growing frustrated. “Ms. Marion told Ms. Paula that I’m a ‘new cents.’”

It suddenly clicks for Eddie, and he grips the steering wheel tighter and hopes Harris doesn’t notice the edge in his voice. “You mean a nuisance?”

“That’s what I said!” Harris groans. “What does it mean?”

Eddie pushes past the question to ask one of his own. “What exactly did Ms. Marion say?” Maybe there was a misunderstanding, he reasons with himself. 

But Harris’s answer only confirms his initial suspicion. “She looked at Ms. Paula and said, ‘this one’s a ‘new cents.’ An’ then she pointed to me.”

“Why the hell would she say that?” Eddie’s speaking to himself, but his son replies, still too young to grasp the concept of rhetorical questions. 

“‘Cause of my shoes being untied. An’ she doesn’t like when I ask her to tie them.”

Eddie cringes. He’d meant to teach Harris how to tie his sneakers, but the lessons had to be put on hold when the kid had broken his wrist. Pausing before posing his next question, Eddie carefully selects his words. “Did…Did Ms. Sweetheart ever do that? Get mad about your shoes or call you a nuisance?”

“Nope,” Harris shakes his head. “An’ Mr. Will didn’t either.” And considering that his laces had always been tied in neat bows when Eddie arrived to pick him up, he can only assume that the two of you did this without a second thought. Jesus, why even bother to be a preschool teacher if you’re gonna bitch about tying shoes?

“So, what is it?” Harris snaps him from his thoughts. 

“Huh?” Eddie’s right foot presses on the brake as he approaches a stop sign. “Oh. Um, I don’t know. Sorry, Har.” It’s the second time in as many days that he’s lied to him in order to spare his feelings. Yesterday, he’d waited until they were already in the school to tell Harris that he was picked for a super special project where he’d act as a secret agent in another class. He didn’t know whether to be proud or ashamed that he’d spent all night thinking of that excuse. 

“‘S’okay,” Harris shrugs, raising and dropping his legs so they bounce off the bottom of his carseat. His ankles are exposed, and Eddie realizes that he must’ve grown. Again. Which means that he needs to scrape together some money and buy him new clothes. Again. “How much more days until I get to go back to Ms. Sweetheart’s class?”

“Not sure.” Lie number three. He flicks on the radio, the sounds of Ozzy effectively distracting Harris for the remainder of the car ride. 

If only it was that easy to fool himself. 

A harsh knock on your classroom door and the formality of your first and last name draws your attention from the mountain of paperwork on your desk. Will left thirty minutes ago with the rest of the TAs, so you’ve been sitting alone, humming a song you’d listened to on the car ride to work.

“Yes, that’s me,” you tell the tall man standing in the doorway. His intimidating stature and sullen disposition juxtapose the orange and yellow hues of autumn-themed artwork lining the walls. “Can I help you?”

He flashes a name tag as he steps into the classroom. “My name is Andrew Smith. I’m here on behalf of Child Protective Services to speak to you regarding one of your students…” he checks his notes, “Harris Munson.”

“Oh, um,” you stumble over your words, “he’s–he’s not my student any more. Not since Tuesday of this week.”

“Right,” the social worker nods slowly, patience already running thin, “but I briefly spoke with his new teacher, and she said that she didn’t have enough information to answer the questions, and directed me to your classroom.” When you don’t respond, he gives the legal rundown about the process and your obligations as a mandated reporter. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s proceed with this, shall we?” He clicks his pen, eyes boring a hole into you as he speaks. “How well would you say you know Harris’s father, Edward Munson?”

More intimately than you know, you bitterly think. “Fairly well. He dropped Harris off and picked him up every day.”

Mr. Smith scribbles that down. “Was Edward Munson punctual? Did he drop off and pick up Harris on time?”

“Yes,” you confirm, and your mind flickers back to the very first day of school. “There was only one time he was late for pick-up, but it’s common for that to happen once in a while with any parent.”

“Right, okay. And how would you describe Harris’s disposition around his father?”

“He adores him. He’s a generally happy kid, but he lights up around his dad. Or even when he’s just talking about him.” One lunchtime conversation in particular centered around how his dad could play anything on the guitar, even “Old MacDonald.” Harris had been bursting with excitement to report that Eddie made the funniest animal sounds, and you’d be lying if you’d said your interest wasn’t piqued. “I’ve never seen Harris act nervous or scared around him.”

Pen flies across the paper, and you swear he’s writing more than you’d even said. “Besides the broken wrist, did you ever notice any injuries or abnormal bruising anywhere on Harris’s body?” 

You shake your head before realizing he’s waiting for a verbal response. “Nope, never. Just the usual bruises that come with being a kid.”

Mr. Smith cocks his eyebrow, pressing his lips together. “And where were those bruises located?”

Shit. Did you say too much? Why can’t you just shut up when you’re nervous? “Knees and calves?” You point to the spots on your own body, as though the social worker needs visual aides, while silently berating your own stupidity.

“And based on your interactions with him, how would you describe Edward Munson as a father?” It’s a loaded question, and its magnitude is a weight on your chest. 

“Caring, attentive, very loving,” you answer honestly. “Responsible. Harris always showed up with lunch and a snack, bathed, clean clothes, whatever supplies he needed. I never worried that Harris was unsafe or in an unhealthy environment.” You force yourself to meet Mr. Smith’s gaze when you say the next part. “We, um, actually were at the hospital at the same time. My grandma got hurt, and we bumped into them when being discharged.”

This grabs his attention. “And did Mr. Munson appear to be impaired or otherwise behaving out of sorts?” The way he looks at you could easily be mistaken for a glare. “Under the influence of any substances, perhaps?”

“Not at all.” You keep your tone firm and even.

He shoves the paperwork at you, pointing to where your signature is required. “Thank you for your time,” he says flatly, leaving the room before you have time to reply. It seems nearly impossible to go back to the task you were working on before the interruption, but you try to push away the intrusive thoughts about everything that could possibly go wrong.

An hour later, the heavy-handed knock raps on the door to the Munson’s apartment. Eddie knows the drill; unfortunately, this isn’t his first run-in with Child Protective Services. He’s double, triple, quadruple-checked that every electrical outlet is covered, the matches and lighters are far from Harris’s reach, and there’s no remaining product from his recently-abandoned dealing days. The visit is technically unannounced, but since he’s not getting many visitors these days, there are limited options of who could be at his door.

“Edward Munson?” The social worker asks, giving him the same opening spiel he gave you. “I’ll just need to take a look around your home and make sure it’s a suitable living environment for your son.”

“Of course.” Eddie hopes he sounds more confident than he feels, but he can sense the waver in his voice. “Yeah, come on in.” He opens the door a bit wider and lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, drawing unwanted attention from the social worker.

“Something the matter, Mr. Munson?”

“N-No,” Eddie insists, shaking his head. If he confesses to being nervous, this Smith guy could mistake it as an admission of guilt, and that’s the last thing he wants. “Just, um, long day?”

Smith recognizes the response with nothing more than a disbelieving glance as he makes his way through the apartment. Eddie watches silently, pushing down his anxiety with a thick swallow. His mind races when the social worker rummages through the refrigerator. Are there fruits and vegetables in there? Did I throw out that container of leftover spaghetti that overstayed its welcome? His stomach sinks when Smith marks something down in his notes but doesn’t have time to ruminate over it before Harris pokes his head out from the bedroom.

“Daddy? You gonna come back an’ play Hot Wheels with me?” His big brown eyes instantly melt Eddie’s heart, and all he wants to do is scream at the man, See? See how much my kid loves me? See how happy he is? Now, why don’t you go deal with the parents who actually deserve to lose custody and leave me to play with him.

Before Eddie can stop him, Harris traipses out and sees Smith rifling through the pantry. “Who’re you?” he asks.

“Har-Bear, this is Mr. Smith. He’s, uh, one of my friends.” Eddie scrunches his face and shakes his head defeatedly at the blatant lie, but Harris doesn’t notice.

Mr. Smith gives a short wave, neither kind nor impolite. Just one slight movement to acknowledge the boy’s presence. He’s determined to get back to his job, but Harris has other plans.

“I like your glasses.” He points to the wire-rimmed frames on the man’s face. “My Grampa Wayne is s’posed to wear glasses, but he doesn’t. Daddy says it’s ‘cause he’s a mule.”

“Stubborn as a mule, Har,” Eddie gently corrects him, a blush creeping into his cheeks. “I’ll be in in a minute, okay?”

But Harris ignores his request, forging towards his dad’s friend. He lifts his arm and flashes an innocent smile. “Look at my cast! It’s from when I jumped on my bed and breaked my arm.”

“Harris!” Eddie hisses, trying to keep his cool. “Can you go play? In the room?” Pleading with him is like negotiating with a terrorist, and he knows his efforts are futile.

“Actually, I do need to take a look at Harris’s bedroom,” the social worker muses, tapping his pen against his lower lip. Eddie has to stifle a scoff at the charade that this just occurred to Smith. Like he didn’t have this mapped out, another bullet point on the list of uninformed judgments he needed to make.

“We, um, we share a room,” Eddie mumbles, as though there would be another possible reason as to why there’s a twin bed nestled into the same space as Harris’s race car bed. “I used to sleep on the couch, it’s just easier to be close to him when he has nightmares an’ stuff.” His heart races when Smith jots this down. “N-Not that he has nightmares a lot. I don’t let him watch scary movies or anything. Just normal kid stuff.”

The man nods, visibly irritated by his rambling. He clamps his mouth shut to inhibit the flow of unnecessary explanations that freely pass through his lips without a second thought.

Harris motions Smith over, using his uninjured hand to grab the stranger’s and leading him into the room. “That’s my bed,” he announces. It sounds like he’s giving a tour, and Eddie almost laughs at the absurdity of the situation. “And that’s where I falled,” Harris points to the unassuming patch of carpet alongside it. 

“Ouch,” Smith mutters, and Eddie swears he can see a semblance of a smile. Leave it to Harris to thaw the most hardened of hearts. “I bet that hurt.”

“Yeah, but there was no blood,” Harris says nonchalantly. “An’ I didn’t need a shot. Just this cast. All my friends signed it. Even Ms. Sweetheart!”

“Ms. Sweetheart?” Smith repeats.

“She’s my teacher. Well, she was my teacher. Now I’m a super secret spy in Ms. Marion’s class, but don’t tell anyone!”

Eddie scoops up a couple of toy cars off of the floor and hands them to Harris, determined to end the conversation before anything else can be revealed. Can you get your kid taken away for being an asshole to his teacher? He doesn’t want to find out. “Here ya go, bud. Why don’t you get the racetrack set up, and I’ll play with you as soon as Mr. Smith leaves.”

“Actually,” Smith says, “I’m about finished. Mr. Munson,” he says, his natural stoicness settling back in as he turns back to Eddie, “after completing this investigation and conducting our interviews, I’ve determined that Harris may remain in your custody. I’ll just need you to sign a few forms and I’ll be on my way.”

Eddie’s relief is palpable. He sweeps Harris into a hug, clutching him to his chest and wordlessly swears to never put him back down. “Th-thank you,” he mumbles, acutely aware of the tears leaking from his eyes. “Wait–what interviews? No one interviewed me.”

Smith nods. “Yes, we spoke with Harris’s teacher. She only had great things to say about how well you take care of him.”

She did? He barely knows the woman; Harris has only been in her class for two full days, and she never indicated any partiality towards him. He makes a mental note to thank her tomorrow at drop-off. For now, all he wants to do is treasure every moment with his boy.

Eddie doesn’t want to let Harris out of his sight, but he begrudgingly takes him to school, not wanting to add a truancy charge to his growing list of misgivings. 

Ms. Marion greets both Munsons with a muted stare, harsh enough to drain Harris of the excited energy that typically buzzes through his little body. “Are we going to listen today?” she quips.

“Yes,” Harris says.

“Yes, what?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Harris’s affect is robotic and monotone, and the uncharacteristic spiritlessness nearly distracts Eddie from thanking the older woman for her interview.

“The guy–um, the social worker–he told me that you said some nice things about me. About how I am with Harris,” he stammers. “So, uh, thank you.”

Ms. Marion crosses her arms over her faded pink sweater, pursing her overlined lips. Her forehead is marred with frown lines. “That wasn’t me, Mr. Munson. I directed him to speak to Harris’s previous teacher, since she spent more time with him.”

Ms. Sweetheart.

After everything he’d said and done, you’d still vouched for him. Spoken so highly of his parenting abilities that CPS allowed him to keep custody of his son. You could’ve easily ruined his life, but you didn’t. 

What Eddie doesn’t understand is why.

Perhaps he doesn’t need to; at least, not immediately. Right now, he just needs to fix this. And he knows exactly where to start.

Friday marks one week since your blowout fight with Eddie. One week since he’d caught you pathetically crying in your car because of the venom he’d spewed. One week since you’d informed him that you’d had Harris transferred to another class.

Which is why you’re confused when the boy bounds up to your classroom door, shouting, “Ms. Sweetheart! Ms. Sweetheart!”

“Hey, Harris,” you greet him, unable to mask your confusion. “What are you doing here? You’re in Ms. Marion’s class now, remember?”

Harris nods, his curls bouncing with each movement. He drops his backpack to the floor with a thud and unfastens the zipper, tongue poking from between his lips as he digs through it to brandish a cassette. “This is for you.”

You take it from him, eyes widening as you take in Toni Braxton’s face staring back at you. “Harris…where did you get this?”

“My daddy put it there and said to give it to you. So I did,” he answers with a shrug. He looks up at you, innocuous and angelic as he adds, “I miss you. I wish you could be my teacher again.”

“Me, too,” you reply before thinking. Clearing your throat, you kneel down to meet him at his height. “Thank you for my gift. It was very sweet. Go ahead and head to class now, okay? I don’t want you to be late.”

“Mmkay!” he chirps, slinging his still-opened bag over his shoulder. “Bye, Ms. Sweetheart.”

Why would Eddie buy you a tape? Why this tape, the one you’d come in for when he’d said such malicious things to you? You can’t make sense of it, regardless of how many times you try to piece together the puzzle.

At dismissal, you find yourself waiting by the door, hoping to catch Eddie before he can dash out of the school. There’s no logic to his actions: he despised you enough to weaponize your grandma’s cognitive decline, and then he gives you a gift with no further explanation. 

You distractedly hand parents the sign-out sheet, barely registering when Joshua Harrington’s dad asks you about any upcoming plans for a class Halloween party. 

“Is there gonna be a list of things you need? Candy or cupcakes or something?”

“Oh, uh, I’m gonna send home information about that next week,” you stumble over your words as you try not to make it obvious that your mind is elsewhere. 

“Great,” he says, stretching out the word as he tracks your gaze to the spot behind him. “Everything okay?”

“Yup.” You slap a smile on your face just as you spot the mane of frizzy curls you’d been searching for. “Um, excuse me for a second.” You call out to Will, letting him know you’ll be right back, before sprinting down the hallway. 

“Ms. Sweetheart!” Harris’s eager face twists into a frown. “You gotta use your walking feet in school. Or you could get hurt.”

Eddie moves to correct him, but you just smile sweetly. “You’re right, Harris. Thanks for reminding me.”

You allow your gaze to travel upwards, eyes locking onto Eddie’s. You can’t quite read his expression; his brows are furrowed in confusion but the flush in his face indicates that he knows why you’re here. 

“Harris gave me the tape. The Toni Braxton one.” Like he’d gifted you myriad cassettes that required this distinction. “You really didn’t have to do that.”

“Don’t mention it.” The right corner of his lips turns up into a half-smile. “Besides, I  should probably be the one thanking you.”

“Me?” What is he talking about? As far as you know, you’re the bane of his existence. 

“Yeah. For, uh, what you said to that social worker guy. Even after I treated you like a piece of…” he presses his palms to Harris’s ears and lowers his voice, “shit.”

That makes sense; he was relieved that you’d sang his praises when it had mattered most. This was an expression of gratitude; nothing more and nothing less.

“You’re a good parent, even if you’re mean to me,” you say nonchalantly. “I wasn’t going to make up lies and ruin your lives out of spite.”

The statement hangs in the air, gathering an awkward silence that has you and Eddie both grappling for ways to end the conversation. 

He’s the one to interject. “Well, anyway, I hope you like the tape.”

“Mhm.” It’s all you allow yourself to utter in front of Harris. A thousand questions swarm your head, threatening to spill off your tongue, the first of which is simply: why? “I’ve gotta get back. But, um, enjoy your weekend.” You pivot on your heel before Eddie can wish you the same. With the necessary chaos of your life, you can’t invest any more time trying to unravel him. 

“Daddy, when is Ms. Sweetheart gonna be my teacher again?”

Eddie knew it was inevitable that Harris would ask about going back to your class, but he thought he’d bought himself more time with the spy game he’d concocted. He can’t delay the truth any longer. 

“I’m sorry, buddy. I don’t think you can switch back.” There’s a pang in his heart when his son drops his hand, digging his heels into the parking lot asphalt. 

“Is it because you were mean to her?”

His question catches Eddie off-guard. “Wh-What?”

“In there,” Harris points towards the school, “she said you’re mean to her.” He squints when he looks up at his father, the midday sun shining in his eyes. “Why were you mean?”

Eddie exhales, puffing out his cheeks and rubbing the back of his neck. “Sometimes grownups accidentally hurt each others’ feelings.” Or purposely, in his case, but he omits the complexities from his explanation. He reaches out to once again take Harris’s hand, but the boy pulls back. 

“Ms. Sweetheart says that when we hurt someone’s feelings, we gotta say sorry. Even if it’s on accident.”

“I did,” Eddie counters, raising his brows. “I gave her the tape.”

But Harris remains unconvinced. “That’s not saying sorry. You gotta actually say it. Or else it doesn’t count.”

“It doesn’t count, huh?” Eddie clicks his tongue and puts his hands on his hips. “All right, I’ll say it the next time I see her.”

“And then you can be friends?” The question is posed innocently, but it rattles Eddie. Friends? Did he even know how to be a decent friend any more? He’d fucked it all up with Gareth, Jeff, and Danny, and he’s known them for forever. “Daddy?” “Uh, maybe,” Eddie replies meekly; this time, Harris grabs his hand when he offers it. “We’ll just have to see.”

--

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#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

[sluttywoozi]

Kinktober Day 28: Knotting + Seungkwan

For 🐳

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~2k

Pairing: Seungkwan x Reader | Genre: smut, werewolf

Warnings: knotting, seungkwan is a werewolf but he doesn't like wolf out or anything, fingering (he doesn't have claws don't worry), mention of fisting but it does not i repeat does not happen, piv sex, breeding kink, so much cum, blood mention, biting, marking, cum inflation, i think thats it inbox me if i missed anything

Seungkwan has found himself in a little bit of a… predicament. 

He can tell you want him tonight, your eyes following him as he flits around the house and your small touches lingering, but it’s a full moon, and he doesn’t want to risk you like that. 

Just because he happens to be a child of the moon doesn’t mean he can’t be a gentleman. 

And that’s normally what he is, with you at least. He’s a very gentle man and he handles you like you’re made of glass, though he knows very well that if you were made of glass, you would be bulletproof. 

Partially because that’s just how he feels with you, and perhaps also because he’s terrified of ever losing control. That can be dangerous as a werewolf, can lead to all sorts of horrible outcomes, and the last thing he ever wants to do is hurt you. 

But he also hates to deny you, and this is a fact you know well. 

It’s a fact you don’t hesitate to take advantage of too, and he just knows that tonight, you’ll somehow get what you want. 

Seungkwan will have to hope and pray that he can hold himself back, that he can withstand the insane pleasure of you, that he can keep his knot from swelling and locking you together for who knows how long. 

He’s never popped a knot before, it only happens in the presence of a breedable person and usually, he can control it with you. But there’s something about your behavior today that’s making him hot as hell, and combined with the full moon, he fears tonight will be the night he finally lets you feel it. 

.

You make your move before he’s even settled in bed, straddling him as soon as he’s stretched out and rolling your hips against his, the pressure and heat of you on his cock making his head spin. 

“I know you know what I want,” you whisper, leaning in and sucking kisses along the line of his neck. He can hear your heart pounding, smell the arousal that’s already gathering, practically taste your desire on the air. 

You’re right, Seungkwan knows exactly what you want, and like always, he’ll give it to you. 

“I don’t know if I can hold it back tonight, honey, I might knot you,” he warns, all at once sensing your want rising, bubbling up and over in the form of a loud whine and an involuntary jerk of your hips. 

“I don’t want you to, Kwannie, I want your knot,” you promise, pouting and playing with the ends of his hair like you know he likes. 

He doesn’t need long to contemplate, not with you perched in his lap like this and so wet, he could probably slip inside right now. 

He won’t, knows you’ll need a lot of prep if you’re going to take him without pain tonight, and before you can get too carried away grinding on him, he takes you by the hips and carefully lifts you away from him, setting you on your back in bed. 

He can tell you’re trying not to pout again and he rewards you with a deep, loving kiss, his tongue tracing your bottom lip before delving inside your mouth to glide against yours. You settle down soon, humming into his mouth and hooking a leg around his waist to hold him to you. 

Before he can get too carried away, he pulls back and starts to strip both you and him, your hands clumsy with want where they tug at his clothes. When he has you bare, he has to take a moment to drink in the sight of you, of the moonlight shining down on your soft skin, your curves, your angles. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his voice gentle and awe-filled, like this is the first time he’s ever seen you before. He senses your rise in temperature, signaling a full body flush, and grins at his effect on you, happy that he’s not the only susceptible one in this relationship. 

Already he can feel his wolf clawing at him, fighting to come to the surface, but he needs to be careful here, needs to make sure there’s no possibility of him hurting you, which means keeping his nails and his teeth human. 

The nail part is especially important as he spreads your legs and drags his fingertips from cunt to clit and back before letting two of them sink inside you. He’ll have to stretch you out well if you’re going to be able to fit his knot, and with how zealous and persistent you are, he has to ensure you don’t hurt yourself trying to fit it. 

So he’ll open you up, scissor his fingers inside of you, push against the tightness of your walls until he can add another, until it slides in nice and easy, like you were just waiting for something to fill you. 

“How is it, baby?” He asks, wanting to check in as he gets you ready. 

“So good, Kwannie. I love your fingers,” you gasp, arching your back and clenching around him as if to prove your point. 

“I know, honey, I know,” he coos as he curls all three fingers inside of you, searching for your g-spot. He grazes it with his fingertips and you buck up, your legs snapping closed until he uses his free hand to push them open again. 

He aims there with every thrust of his hand, grinding right into the rough patch of nerves inside you and smiling as you writhe beneath him. He loves making you feel good, giving you what you want, what you need, your pleasure always becoming his own. 

You’re getting close, he can tell, your pussy fluttering around his fingers and your moans reaching a fever pitch as you buck into his hand, yours wrapped around his wrist to hold him to you like he’d ever pull away. 

Before you cum, he works in his pinky, all four of his fingers filling you up, and tries not to think about tucking his thumb in too, stretching you with his fist. He probably should, as his knot is likely the same size, but fisting you feels like a bit much for tonight, especially when he’s already going to give you his knot. 

Just thinking about it has his cock hardening where it hangs between his legs, has it pulsing and filling with blood as he takes you apart, has his knot throbbing at the base of his cock like it knows what’s in store. 

Before anything else though, he needs to push you over the edge, loosen you up enough that he doesn’t hurt you when he locks you together. 

So he sets his thumb on your clit and presses down, swirling in the way you like and crooking his fingers into your g-spot relentlessly, unerringly. You break before he can take another breath, your sweet moans floating in the air and your body twisting and turning as he carries you through your orgasm, your walls undulating wildly around his fingers and your clit pulsating under his thumb. 

He has a feeling once won’t be enough for you to take his knot comfortably, immediately pushing for another with rough fingers and whispered words. 

“Gonna cum again for me, honey? You need to if you want my knot, okay? It’s too big for your pretty little cunt, you need to be stretched out for it to fit, hm?” 

He knows you love when he talks to you, love his soft voice and dirty words, and it’s obvious in the way you clench around his fingers and fall into another orgasm, this one gentler but still enough for him to hear your heart race in your chest under the sound of your sharp whines. 

“Now, Kwannie? Can I have it now?” You whimper before you’ve even come down, your legs restless and your cunt fluttering. 

“Yeah, baby, you can have it now,” he assures you, slowly withdrawing his fingers and sucking them clean one by one before taking hold of his cock and lining himself up. 

Normally, he can last long enough to feel you cum twice around his dick, but with the light of the moon calling him and the knowledge that he’ll get to knot you for the first time, he fears he’ll barely make it through one. 

He doesn’t think you’ll mind, not after he really fills you up. 

Which will happen far sooner than expected, the searing heat of your pussy pulling him into the depths of pleasure before he can even pull back and thrust into you. 

“Fuck, sorry, baby, m’sorry, it’s happening now, fuck,” he swears, shoving in deep as the base of his cock grows, swelling with cum and just waiting to spill it all inside of you. 

He can feel your walls straining around him, feel the way they shudder and ripple as they fight to accommodate him, and he leans down to lay kisses all over you, soothing you when you start to whimper and shake.

Your entrance stretches around him and he pushes in just a little further, just enough for his knot to pop inside and lock you together as he breaks, spend shooting out of his cock and splattering against your walls while he moans and twitches and loses himself in you. His mind goes somewhere else and his body takes over, his hips bucking against yours in short thrusts, his cock dragging against your walls and his knot plugging you up. 

Fuck, he suddenly wants to bite you so fucking bad. 

So bad his teeth ache with it, so bad he can already picture the indents he’d leave behind, so bad he feels like he’ll die if he doesn’t leave something that will show everyone you’re his. 

“Can I bite you, baby?” He forces out, lucid enough to ask even as he continues to pump cum inside of you, your stomach swelling with the sheer amount of it. 

“Yes!” You gasp, tilting your head back to present your neck to him, which just makes him feel even more feral as he leans down and sinks his teeth into your precious flesh. He does his best not to break the skin but he can feel droplets of your blood painting his tongue, the taste sweet and heady and enough to make his head spin. You whine beneath him, sounding wounded and broken, and the predator in him loves it, but the boyfriend in him is worried. 

He remorsefully detaches himself from your throat, licking over the mark he left behind and making soothing sounds to comfort you, hoping he hasn’t hurt you too badly. 

“How bad is it, honey?” He whispers, petting your hair and gazing into your eyes, his cock still filling you with what seems to be an endless amount of cum. 

“Not bad, it’s not bad, Kwannie. It’s so fucking good,” you cry back, sincerity and promise in your voice even as tears fill your eyes. “I love it, I’m gonna want your knot all the time now.”

“Really? It doesn’t hurt?” He frets as he inspects you for stray scratches and bites, his hands gentle and his cock still hard. 

“No, never felt this full before, it’s everything,” you almost sound dazed, and he feels some of his worries slip away as a content, fucked out smile stretches your kiss-swollen lips. 

Knowing that you feel good is enough for him to relax, to take hold of your legs and hook them around his waist and lean into you, resting his head on your chest. 

“We’ll be here for a while, might as well get comfortable,” he murmurs before his eyes shoot open at the feeling of you clenching around him.

“Or you could fuck me with your knot,” you tease, your fingers sinking into his hair and pulling. 

Seungkwan’s in love with a fucking menace. 

Kinktober Masterlist

#seungkwan smut #seungkwan x reader #seungkwan fic #seungkwan x you #svthub #seventeen fic #kvanity #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt fanfic #svt smut #kpop oneshots #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #✨emily writes✨ #✨em's kinktober✨

[simplyreveries]

I noticed that you opened the requests. I wanted to ask related to staff (separated) with mc/yuu who had daddy issues in their world and who sees them as a father figure

i love this sm,,,, TY<3

dire crowley

he is…. interesting- he does mean well but he just does a poor job executing that sometimes. he was never expecting to feel such a sense of protectiveness and being overly doting to you. it started when he couldn't help but feel pity for your own situation and watching you adjust to this world is tough.

you’ll find him randomly popping up out of nowhere in school and he’ll ask how you’re doing. a way as a check up on how you’re handling this world and school life so far, he’d tell you if you ask him. as soon as you ask him about home… "oh! is someone is calling me?" and just literally disappears.

In this case, I feel like his reluctance to figure out a way to bring you home stems from the fact that he really does care for you and doesn't want to lose that. so, let's just say, it'll take him awhile to figure that out. crowley seems to be trying to convince you how amazing, twisted wonderland really is! you could thrive and live so happily here! (minus the overblots… terrifying magic… creatures and more) he tells you how great it is for you already have a home, a whole dorm for yourself, as he’d say: “for i am so gracious!” that he’s done such a generous thing for you.

the first time you tried to give him a hug as thanks for something he was completely confused and didn't know how to react. he laughed and gave you the awkward pat on the back but once again, he means well i promise.

divus crewel

you have blatant favoritism from him… he seems a little less strict with you and if a student asks he’ll deny and tell them he doesn't do that or that he has to be since you’re not even from this world. he wouldn't expect you to know how to do certain things after all.

but still, ace and grim could groan because they got in trouble for forgetting homework or assignments but if you did he’d sigh and be like “bring it in tomorrow” and they are always so UPSET. it's also rare to get some compliments from him, but he seems to point out something well you did and give you a little “good improvement” and such. It's so obvious how he seems to care for you.

divus is literally the epitome of judgment when it comes to anyone having eyes for you or you tell him about even liking someone yourself… he is too protective and feels like any boy at this school is undeserving of you. he sees any attempt during class of one of them flirting or anything as them simply bothering you. If you mention someone like floyd he’d give you the most concerned look and be like “oh… him, how troublesome”. he doesn't really say what he thinks, unless you really ask for his opinion. he more so listens to you talk and he does genuinely try to give you some advice, even if it's a bit blunt.

mozus trein

now despite his strict and sternness, he can be a very calming person to be around and talk to. he will be pretty quiet, but he can become someone you just find if you need to talk as he listens and grades assignments, doing some work. if you really need to take your mind of certain worries and stresses, like finding a way back to your world- he'll offer you some tea and maybe even offer to play a game of chess with you (as he does with divus sometimes!)

trein is a father himself, he was very close to his daughters- so it actually is quite easy for him out of all of the staff members to develop a familial like relationship with. he enjoys having that feeling of looking after someone again and being someone, you could look up to in that sense. he would eventually notice that you do see him in such a way, he wouldn't say it, but it does warm his heart.

he'll let you play and pet lucius, it's just part of your special privileges. surprisingly, the cat likes you and always tries rubbing against you. since trein trusts you though, you will be given the duty to buy lucius cat toys from sams shop with money he gives you, he says its "in compensation" haha.

if you happen to be causing trouble with grim or some student in class, he'll scold you. but through it, he will remind and tell you he knows you're a good kid and doesn't want other bothersome students tarnishing your potential.

ashton vargas

oh poor you if you dread fitness or sports because he's always booming so loud, excited and pumped to get you involved more. even if you don't want to do something with others, he loves initiating one on one games with you and challenging you. he will not go easy though and laughs proudly whenever he wins. he'll still pat you on the back and tell you "nice job, kid!" or something of that sort. he's very supportive even if hes overly competitive at times.

sometimes you do have to hear his tangents on how he became so fit and strong... especially his "advice" on how great it is to consume raw eggs... this guy . he tries telling you it'd benefit you.

lowkey makes a big deal if you got hurt and needed to go to the infirmary. he always tries to keep a special eye on you in case and tries his absolute best to make sure you're alright. even after getting help, you needed from the nurse, still!!

sam

he tends to keep a watchful eye on you... he would much prefer and even offer, saying you'd be perfect to be working beside him at his shop. he wouldn't want you resorting or going somewhere like the mostro lounge really. but other than that, he is a very carefree guy who you could easily find yourself talking to about problems or issues you're having. his attitude and approach to things can be a good help.

also, if you're in general in need of something from his store, because you're extra special to him he'll sometimes just give you heavily discounted or even be like take it, ("it wasn't selling anyways"). hehe. he cares. especially when it comes to like snacks or food he'll have, he'll claim it's your "employee benefits!" if you're working there.

sam is pretty much in the loop with anything interesting happening at school or things he may have overheard from students. you can easily get gossip out of him, just saying. but sometimes that just turns him into trying to discreetly warn you about certain students at nrc.

#twst #disney twst #twst headcanons #twst wonderland #twst imagines #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #dire crowley #crowley twst #divus #divus crewel #mozus trein #trein #sam twst #ashton vargas #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland imagines #twst hcs #twisted wonderland hcs

[yurinaa-world]

Hello! Could I request a headcannon for Luocha, Blade and Yanqing with a reader who is afraid to lose them?

Characters: Luocha, Blade, and Yanqing x Gender-Neutral Reader

Synopsis: with reader who is afraid to lose them

Warnings: angsty? comfort

𝐿𝑜𝓊𝒸𝒽𝒶

He couldn’t bear to see you so afraid—the way you held onto him so tightly while you laid together, the tears in your eyes—he couldn’t bear it. Oh, how lonely that look in your eyes is.

“Stay close to me,” you whisper in his ear, sitting with your arms wrapped around him, hiding in his neck while giving small kisses to his neck with his own hands around your waist. "I don't want to let go of you,” you whisper, gripping the back of Luocha's night clothes.

He understands how you feel; he himself has seen people die and disappear before him and is unable to save them, but he won’t let you suffer that way; he’ll escape death for you and find you.

He stayed up at night just to see you sleep peacefully without any fear, since it wasn’t the first time you woke with adrenaline coursing through your veins as you took desperate breaths of air while clutching your heart.

𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑒

He doesn’t know what to say to you—the last thing he wants is to see tears run down your cheeks over him. Why him? Why waste so much care on him?

He’ll hug you tightly, pressing you both squished against each other with his bandaged hands slipping under the back of your shirt, making shivers go down your spine, kinda like his way of saying that he’s there and won’t ever leave you, even in death.

Basically, you're never letting go of him; you're stuck with him until the end, and the end ain’t coming anytime soon.

𝒴𝒶𝓃𝓆𝒾𝓃𝑔

You always get bossy with him whenever he has the day off from training with Jing Yuan, and you even hide his sword so he wouldn’t do extra training. He doesn’t understand at all that he’s a knight and going to be an amazing general when he grows up, so why worry so much?

When he came back from that fight with those war criminals, he was silent with little scratches on his face, and of course, like your usually bossy self, you told him you wouldn’t let him ever do something as crazy as that again.

‘I care about more than you could ever imagine!’ Those words coming from your mouth were the thing that hit him so hard—harder than a bus at full speed could. He didn’t mean to hurt you; that's not something a knight would ever do! Let him make up to you, and he’ll even stop training while he’s injured, he promises!

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

#✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ Yurinna's Writing :･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ #luocha x reader #luocha x you #luocha x y/n #luocha #honkai star rail x you #honkai blade #honkai blade x reader #honkai blade x you #blade x reader #blade x you #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr x y/n #honkai star rail x reader #star rail #honkai star rail yanqing #yanqing x reader #yanqing headcanons

[jjkeremika]

AoT men who are soft when intimate with you (Soft Paws)

Armin, Zeke, Erwin, Connie, Bertoldt

description: they can’t help it!! there’s just something about you that brings it out of them…

**nsfw**

Armin - duh

Baby boy will do whatever you ask him to. As soon as the opportunity presents itself (i.e., you start to take your clothes off), he’s desperate for you, mind reeling with millions of ways to touch and please you.

“Oh, ngh, love, you are—hnf, so, so beautiful,” he’ll murmur against your lips, his fingers lightly folding over your breast, “so lovely.” One hand will travel up your arm overhead to hold yours, aligning his words with each snug thrust, “You have to know that.”

Armin will tighten his grip and slam his hips against yours if you ask him to, but if it were solely up to him, he’ll use more lube, exercise more care, touch and kiss you more softly. It’s just—he didn’t like the idea of hurting you in any capacity, and it honestly turns him on to know you’re enjoying yourself, fully, completely, because of him.

If the sex didn’t feel like you were floating on the comfiest cloud, nudely basking in the warming rays of his brightest love, pleasurable winds traveling through your body, he was doing it wrong.

Zeke - if you ignore that he’s bruising your hips what he’s saying is soft and emotional

Zeke’s contradictory behavior is so blatantly obvious during these shared intimate moments, when his thoughtful, fragile emotionality equated his strong, dominant physicality; when his mind is so distracted with blinding care for you and his body is infected with a feverish desire only drilling into you can satisfy.

During these moments is when he’s at his most vulnerable, and this openness manifests in a running mouth, rambling on about how much you make him feel, how much he needs you in more ways than he could describe, how you consume his mind.

“Ze-aaAH!” you always interrupt his devoted monologue with a strained moan, when his thumb digs into your hip bone and his tip rubs against your spongy insides before pulling out and shoving back inside.

“Sorry, baby,” he’ll say with his lips pressed to your skin, looking at you with apologetic puppy eyes, a faint reflection of yourself with a sweaty halo visible in the blue, “I’ll slow down, promise, I-I just, fuck, you are so hot, you drive me wild, I, mmf, fuck—”

Erwin - more rough… but his hands are soft

Okay, it starts soft, and his hands are soft, but the longer he pounds into you and the longer he gropes at your mewling, begging body, the harder and tougher his movements became.

Erwin’s always careful not to leave visible bruises along your hips, but all that care comes at the cost of not paying attention to the speed of his thrusts. Your moans dampened by the sound of his cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy rapidly led to his devolution, and he loses himself in your warm muscles enveloping his most sensitive extremity every time, pushing further in and demanding more every time.

If it didn’t feel so good you’d tell him to slow down, to give you a break. But the burning ache in your gut vastly overpowered the budding soreness in your abdomen and you bit your lip and focused on just how smooth his palms are, how he definitely moisturizes after washing his hands.

“Oh, my sweet, sweet, angel,” Erwin whispers in your ear from behind, bringing one hand to lightly caress your cheek despite shoving himself in and out of you. He rubs his other hand down your spine, achingly gently caressing each nub as he arches his cock into that spot. “You’re doing so well, angel.”

Connie - you’re his baby bunny!! he can’t hurt his bunny :(

It’s not that he thinks you’re weak and you need him to hold back… it’s just, well, you are his precious bunny, and how could he hurt his bunny?

“Ooo, bunny, you know I love when you move like that,” Connie moans deeply, gutturally, as you wiggle your hips and grind onto his lap. His hands lightly hover over your thighs, hesitantly, like he needs your approval.

He presses his face into your chest as your hands hold onto his shoulders; you feel his chin press against your sternum as he looks up to you longingly, his hands sliding to above your ass.

You sigh dramatically, puff out your bottom lip into a pout as you drop roughly onto his lap. “Con, you can touch me you know,” you drag his hands in yours along your body, from your thighs to your breasts, “I want you to.”

You smile at the high-pitched whine he releases, preen as his fingers quickly wrap around the fleshy skin. “Mmm, bunny,” he whispers against your lips with a reciprocated smile, nosing into you, “all you need to do is ask.” Connie kisses down your neck, still smiling. “Tell me if it hurts.”

Bertoldt - speaks for itself

Ooph, baby… did you have to put in some work.

Even sitting in his lap, crossing your calves across each other behind the chair, anchoring him down, with one hand undoing the upper shirt buttons and the second holding his hair. Bertoldt’s hands hover just above your thighs with the brightest red blush intimately gracing his cheeks, his erection peeking out to press against your thigh.

His face inches closer to yours every time and you nod to convince him to hold you, to help edge him over the nerves. One rock with your hips and his hands glue to your bum, softly massaging the fatty skin through your short fabric.

“Hold me tighter,” you request, wrapping his head in your arms. He nods and lightly pushes his crotch into yours, but barely obliges in tightening his grip.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whimpers into your neck, pressing kiss after kiss like admitting it would hurt your feelings.

You coo, taking his face carefully into your hands and lifting his lips to yours. “Berty-baby, I’d like it even if you did.”

#soooooooo the title is totally not based on soft paws and hard claws being proxies for soft paws and puss in boots LMAO #aot smut #snk smut #armin x reader #connie x reader #bertoldt x reader #erwin x reader #zeke x reader #armin smut #connie smut #bertoldt smut #erwin smut #jjkeremika #i have to tag myself bc i wrote it lmao #i recently watched puss in boots 2 it was good would recommend #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan

[callsign-rogueone]

older - b.s.

Brennan Sorrengail x younger!reader some thoughts about Bren + a sweet innocent younger partner!! [kinda requested] words: 1.9k 🏷: NSFW, descriptions of sex. no spoilers. afab “girl” reader who is younger than Bren. canonically, he’s 29-ish, and I’m implying the reader to be in her early 20s, and a scribe or healer, someone who isn’t combat-trained but is still part of the revolution. discussion of ethical concerns of a relationship like this, dom/sub dynamics in both sexual and non-sexual contexts, and traditional gender roles. I swear I’m a feminist woman in stem with career goals but it would be so nice to be his cute lil housewife 🥺 the daddy issues definitely came out here... oh well. that’s what the pseudo-anonymity of the internet is for, right?

Brennan can’t help but be drawn to you and your bright-eyed innocence, the genuine smile you give him every time you pass him by… the way you wear your uniform, playing things fast and loose + ditching the traditional robes for something more form-fitting and comfortable, especially during Tyrrendor’s hot summers… 

he struggles to stay composed every time you call him sir or Lieutenant Colonel — which is every time you speak to him, because you’re so sweet and respectful and eager to help him with whatever he needs, and it drives him absolutely insane because you don’t even seem to realize how captivated you have him. you’ve wrapped him around your manicured little finger without even trying. 

he resigns himself to suffering in silence because he knows this is wrong, that he’s your superior officer, that you’re closer to Violet’s age than to his, and there’s a clear maturity gap there — yes, you’re an adult, an officer in your own right, but a freshly graduated lieutenant who’s never seen combat and hopefully never will, and you clearly don’t have much relationship experience, either. 

he’s a good guy; he doesn’t want to take advantage of you in any way, especially because you’re so sweet and innocent… but he can’t live like this forever. it’s only a matter of time before he snaps, and snap he does. you do something incredibly stupid and dangerous — putting yourself at unnecessary risk, associating with someone who is only going to hurt you… whatever it is, as soon as he sees it, he’s forcibly removing you from the situation and ordering you into his office to give you a talking to, because he doesn’t want that happening again.

he’s stern with you, disciplining you how a Lieutenant Colonel should when something like this happens, but he’s especially upset because it’s you, because you put yourself in harm’s way. do you have any idea how dangerous that was? what could have happened to you, had he not intervened? 

he doesn’t realize how harsh he’s being until he sees that you’re crying. his heart breaks when you sniffle and nod and apologize with a quiet yes sir, those pretty eyes full of tears. he stops his lecturing to pull you into a warm embrace and apologizes for raising his voice at you, strokes your hair gently and promises that he’s only so stern because he cares about you, that this is for your own good, that he couldn’t bear to lose you or see you hurt.

you aren’t that close — this is the quite possibly the longest conversation you’ve ever had, because he can’t be around you for more than five minutes without needing to go splash some cold water on his face and give himself another lecture in the bathroom mirror about how wrong this is — but you already trust him so deeply, and believe his every word, you feel so warm and safe with him… you’d do whatever he asked.

it’s this kind of naïveté that landed you in that dangerous situation in the first place, but he’s not going to lecture you about it further, not when you’re this fragile, still hiding your face in his shoulder and sniffling quietly. he settles into his desk chair, sitting you in his lap and holding you for a while, murmuring soft assurances that you’re safe with him, and promises that he’ll take care of you. he’s so tender with you. dries your tears and mends any injuries you’d gotten, kisses your forehead… 

it’s clear that you need someone in your life to guide you and protect you from all the bad things in the world, to guard that sweet innocence. he’s happy to provide that for you, and you’re happy to be taken care of. but he’s still a little worried about taking advantage of you, because you’re not very experienced in the relationship department, and because you’ll have to keep this quiet for the sake of his reputation and yours. he doesn’t want anyone thinking he’s a sleaze or that you’re sleeping your way to a promotion etc. but of course, those thoughts had never even crossed your mind — why would they?

it starts slowly, just him dropping by the infirmary/archives more often than usual to check on you, taking your lunch breaks together, spending some time with him outside of your responsibilities with the revolution, maybe some secret hand-holding and more cheek/forehead kisses, you hanging out in his office and reading quietly while he does his paperwork, because you just want to be close to him… 

you meet Marbh, which is a little scary, because you’ve never been that close to a dragon before, but Brennan holds your hand and reassures you that he’s nice, and you believe him, because Brennan is so gentle and kind with you that his dragon must be nice too. (he definitely asks Marbh to keep an eye on you when he can’t, and even though Marbh is the aloof, distant type, he agrees and takes the task seriously, because he knows how deeply his rider cares for you.)

slowly, and then all at once. you’re just too hard to resist — he’s wanted you for months, and he finally has you exactly where he wants you; curled up in his lap like a cute little kitten, all sweet and cuddly. gentle kisses quickly turn into something more heated because it feels so good, so much better than you’ve ever felt before. you’re so needy, more than you ever have been in your life, whimpering into his mouth and grinding your hips down onto his thigh subconsciously, desperate for more but too shy to ask for it properly.

he pulls away and tilts your chin up with a gentle hand, makes you look at him, makes you use your words, because he needs verbal consent from you before this can go any farther. you manage to tell him what you want in a shy whisper, your cheeks burning with embarrassment, and he smiles at you, gives you one more soft kiss and then he’s leading you out of the office and up the stairs to your room because he’s not going to do this in his office — you deserve to be taken care of properly, in a nice, soft bed.

he shows you how a real man should treat you, pleasing you better than any idiot college boy your age ever could — gentle but thorough, no part of you left untouched or unkissed. he doesn’t even fuck you, just giving you his tongue and fingers, but it’s so good. the best sex you’ve ever had, without a doubt. he nearly busts right then and there when you tell him that, that you didn’t know it could feel this good, that nobody’s ever made you cum that hard, nobody’s ever gone down on you before… 

he spent another half hour eating you out after you told him that. he loves feeling your legs shake while he sucks on your clit, using a strong arm to hold your hips down against the mattress while you whimper and squirm. you taste so sweet and sound so pretty when you cum on his tongue… he just can’t get enough. 

of course, after he’s done, he’s scooping you into his lap for more cuddles and sweet kisses and reassuring words, telling you how good you were for him… you could have fallen asleep in his arms just like that, but he’s coaxing you up and out of bed to brush your teeth and put on real pajamas and get ready for bed before he tucks you in and kisses you goodnight, promising he’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast.

he’s unbearably horny at this point, and definitely has to sort things out himself in the shower before he falls asleep. baby steps, he tells himself. baby steps.

there’s no question that you’re both deeply attached to one another, and you make things official, even though it has to be kept secret for both of your reputations’ sake. you don’t call yourselves girlfriend and boyfriend, because he’s getting a little old for that, but also because this relationship is a little different than most — you’re just his and he’s yours, no need for labels.

you call him Bren in that cute, breathless voice as he eases into you for the first time, holding his hand tightly, and his heart just melts. that’s the ultimate reassurance for him, that in your head, behind closed doors, he’s no longer your superior officer, he’s just your Brennan. he’s so tender and gentle with you, nice and deep and slow — truly making love rather than fucking, because he wants you to feel safe and warm and fuzzy, wants you to know that you can trust him.

and you do trust him, one hundred percent. you let him set some rules for you, mostly about you taking care of yourself and staying out of harm’s way, not straying too far from the fortress without him and/or Marbh… etc. you’re happy to follow them, because you know it’s for your own good, that Bren cares for you deeply, and you just adore the praise and soft kisses he gives you for being such a good girl… 

you slowly move in together after a while, because his room is nicer, and you love being able to fall asleep next to him, all safe and warm in his arms, and it’s so nice for him to have a soft, pretty little thing to come home to after a long day of preparing for war, someone to melt all his worries away with sweet kisses and to take care of him — no one has done that before, doted on him and prioritized his comfort and treated him so kindly, made sure he’s not overworking himself, worked all of the tension out of his shoulders and helped him take his stress out, if you know what I mean 🤭 

he is so genuinely caring and nurturing and makes you feel safe. he loves you so, so much. however, comma, he won’t hesitate to teach you the lessons you need to learn, the hard way, if he has to — edging you until you cry and promise to not break his rules again, until he’s convinced you mean it. he’ll always take amazing care of you after, giving you what you need, wether that’s soft, slow, loving sex, a rough and thorough fucking, or something in between. 

your relationship becomes a very poorly-kept secret around the fortress, but nobody really cares, or if they do, they don’t dare say anything about it,  not when Brennan is literally one of the three most powerful people in the entire revolution. he does not give a single fuck what anyone thinks about your relationship -- you love and support each other, and that’s what matters most. however, if anyone is stupid enough to make any negative remarks about it to you, and if he hears about it, they’ll find themselves getting assigned overnight watch or the worst tasks that absolutely nobody wants to do, for a full week with no explanation. 

that’s all I’ve got for now, but you know I am always down to discuss my main man, so please don’t hesitate to share with the class if you have any more thoughts about this or literally anything for any of our beloved riders 💗 muah.

#brennan sorrengail #brennan sorrengail x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #mine #18+ #smut