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violettaskies · 7 months

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Of Books & Beasts

Prompt: virginity

Paring: best friend!steve harrington x f!reader

Genre: romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, one bed trope

Notes: wc 9.1k // my first kinktober story (one of five) // hope everyone enjoys it // it’s very soft // a little scary movie night sleep over // reader falls asleep next to steve and things get a little steamy // i wrote everything to have as much consent as possible // steve is a bit of a perv lol

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // slight somnophilia, dry humping, virginity loss, vaginal fingering // masturbation // smut // 'just the tip' is used once or twice // please let me know if there is anymore that need to be added!

ao3 // kinktober masterlist // full masterlist // lazy ghoul’s kinktober prompts

-:-:-:-:-

The night was meant to be a simple one. After weeks of assignments, exams, quizzes, and extracurricular activities at college, all you wanted to do was relax. Well, you still had one more assignment left to do, but maybe you were able to kill two birds with one stone, right?

Luckily, this assignment was one that you could easily ask for help with from your friend. Someone who always stole movies for you to borrow on many weekends anyways. With your class being based on books which turned into film adaptations, it means a lot of time spent reading and watching. In truth, you felt bad for your classmates who had to rent out the tapes for extended periods just to finish analysis for assignments; all while you didn’t even need to bat an eyelash in Steve’s direction for him to hide movies in your backpack while his manager wasn’t looking.

With the theme of this particular assignment matching the season and going with horror films, a movie night was something that you craved. Thick sweaters, even thicker blankets, a bit of hot chocolate, and candy from the grocery store that had the orange and black packaging — they were all of the aspects to the marathon you proposed when you walked into Family Video on a Friday afternoon after you got off the bus. Despite all of your convincing tactics, your friend already had his answer long before you began to ask.

“Anything for you, dove. I’ll get everything on this list for us,” Steve smiled at you, after looking at the assignment rubric, as you stood on the other side of the cash register.

“Alright, maybe I should place a pizza order now so that we don’t starve during the Friday dinner rush tonight,” you said sweetly as you nervously thought about what to order.

“Don’t you worry about it, it’s on me. Let me treat you a little.”

“I’m the one who asked you to have a movie marathon with me, I should really be the one paying,” you insisted while you brought your hand closer to the telephone.

But, quickly, the man was able to grasp it lightly to stop you from moving towards the numbers. You could never admit just how much your skin tingled at the touch. “I’m serious. This shift finishes in twenty minutes, then I can drive us home and I’m all yours. Do whatever you want with me, dove. I can even help out with your stress relief later. Maybe I’ll bend —”

“Please don’t continue that sentence,” you cut him off easily. Steve always loved to tease you and any eavesdroppers who may be listening in and theorizing if you two were dating or not. The town is full of gossip fiends. “Any louder and people will start to believe you.”

The younger Harrington chuckled as he got out from behind the counter to stand fully in front of you. He adored to see the way you outwardly pretended you hated the fake moves he would pull. From him putting his arm around your shoulder whilst walking around town, whistling every other time he picked you up from the city bus stop, to intimidating every guy who looked in your direction for too long. However, both of you never knew the other wished for it all to be real.

“Fine, fine, I’ll be good and stop teasing you,” he chuckled lowly.

“Thank you,” you smiled to yourself before looking up at Steve with wide eyes. “So will you also be buying garlic knots tonight too?”

“Yes, as long as you promise to stay awake until the final movie, sleepy girl.”

-:-:-:-:-

You, in fact, did not stay awake the whole movie night. It wasn’t Tim Curry’s fault either. Normally, it was tradition for you two to end off every evening like this with one musical or something more lighthearted to offset the mood. But the day just exhausted you from every angle, that once you finally got to relax and watch a movie for leisure — you relaxed a little too hard. Adding the components of the cold pizza and Steve putting a blanket on you while continuously keeping a grasp on your knee, you were bound to knock out before the movie ended. Later, it was Steve who woke you up with a whisper in your ear. The sound shocked you at first, and then when you opened your eyes to see the man kneeling in front of you, it did cause a slightly loud gasp to escape your lips. After some groaning on your end about not wanting to intrude, you finally gave in to the invitation Steve gave to let you sleep over tonight. The main contributing factor had to be the fact that the man had a really nice blanket and pillow set that felt like it came from a hotel.

However, as you both ended off the night in your room, it was Steve who began to groan — although, it was due to pure frustration.

“I don’t have any clean clothes,” your host said as he rummaged through his drawers.

“How about any sweater and some of those long johns your mother always buys you?” you giggled as you sat on the bed now, reading a book you recently checked out from the library.

“Or you could always sleep naked, I heard it’s really healthy for you. Plus, I would not mind at — ow,” Steve was on his little sarcastic joke before you threw an old pair of socks at his head.

“Maybe I should just head home, this feels like such a nuisance to you,” you smiled and whispered shyly.

Steve really was trying hard to find you something to sleep in. So much so that it caused some sweat to drop on his forehead. But, truly, the man was standing there trying to work up the courage to ask you to put on one of his old swim team sweaters and a cotton pair of shorts he knew would hug your body beautifully.

Yes, you have slept over before when you were younger. However, those were all planned out with you bringing something from home. Well, there was one emergency where you stayed the night due to a horrific snow storm; but, Mrs. Harrington was there to give you your Christmas present a few weeks early and allow you to sleep in some pyjamas which were covered in cute bunnies. This was the first time you would be here spontaneously alone with Steve — and god, did he feel like all of his prayers were answered. The amount of times he has imagined you laying on his bed, committing the most sinful acts, in various positions and scenarios, could be seen as absolutely perverted. So to have the opportunity to have you on his bed, wearing his clothes, covered in his blanket; it all seemed unfathomable to the man.

“Here,” Steve exclaimed quickly so that you would actually stay. “Maybe you would be alright with this sweatshirt and some shorts?”

“This is more than alright. Thank you, Steve,” You skipped off to the washroom to finally get ready for bed and let your friend change into his own pyjamas.

However, when you got the clothing on, it was so embarrassing to stare into the mirror. Everything fits fine — and on a normal day at home, you would probably wear something similar. But remembering the fact that you would be sleeping next to your best friend was so nerve wracking. It was just a lot shorter than what you would usually wear around him if you did wear a skirt or shorts. You just thanked the heavens that the blanket would be covering your legs so that you didn’t feel as exposed.

Not that you believed Steve would try anything; not that you didn’t want him to try anything either. But, you were scared of getting so cold and cuddling too close to him like you did last December during the winter storm. Waking up in Steve’s arms caused your heart to flutter so harshly that your heart rate didn’t go down for days. It made you think about how badly you wished you could wake up to his handsome face everyday. Most especially, it made you think about how nicely his leg felt right in between your thighs, and the way it massaged your —

No.

This was an innocent sleepover like the thousands that other best friends have had over the years. All you had to do was sleep next to him with a pillow between your bodies and hope you didn’t accidentally roll your way into his arms again. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the heartbreak of knowing that being entwined in each other’s arms would not last forever.

“Do you want the left or right side of the bed?” Steve called out from the other side of the door, startling you out of your thoughts.

“Anything is fine,” you replied whilst opening the door. Seeing that Steve was laying in the middle, ready to roll over to whichever side you preferred. The image of him with arms and legs spread out made you giggle.

“The left side is closer to the lamp if you’d like to read a bit before sleeping,” he said as he shifted over to the ride side of the bed and patted to your new spot.

“Are you a mind reader or something?” you chuckled between steps.

Steve put the book in the air as you tucked yourself into bed, a nice distance away from him. Once he saw you were comfortable, he placed the book gently in your lap and said: “no, but I could tell your little nap will probably have you staying awake for the next hour or so.”

“Oh, if the light is gonna bother you then I can turn it off and head to sleep too.”

The concern in your eyes was absolutely beautiful. As you started up at him with the lamp glowing behind you, you looked like a nymph in the night. And oh how Steve knew he would be the luckiest man alive to sleep next to you.

“Go ahead, dove. I can sleep through anything,” he whispered lowly whilst rubbing your thigh that was covered by the thick blanket. “What’s it about anyways?”

You took a deep breath to calm down before speaking. Steve’s touch caused you to feel warm, even more so when he squeezed your thigh every few moments. “Not too sure about the entire plot since I’m only on chapter two. But it’s about a prince and his beast companion. They’ve been best friends for a long time and are going on adventures. This was in the romance section so I’m guessing the best friends fall in love,” you rambled, getting quieter with the last few words.

What a dream.

“Is it dirty?” Steve teased as he sunk further underneath the blanket.

“No, I-I’ve never read a story like that before,” you said sternly.

“Oh, I believe you,” his voice got deeper and slower with each word, only indicating that he was bound to fall asleep any second. “Have fun reading.”

They were the last words he said before drifting off to sleep peacefully next to you. Luckily, that meant it was a lot easier to read the rest of the book until you felt your own eyes start closing and the words on the page started to become blurry.

It was a beautiful story, full of lore and love, a mix of historical fiction and mythology. After reading and watching stories based on the horror genre for a few weeks now, it was nice to have a little bit of a break and just read about love. Your heart started to feel warm and giddy as each page passed — even going as far as quietly giggling when you felt your cheeks feel warm as a result of the prince’s romantic actions throughout the book. You didn’t even notice that you were sinking further and further into the blanket because you were so engrossed in the imaginary world. It didn’t even matter that the angle made your back hurt a little.

Well, not really. Once you started to feel stiff, you moved into a straighter position. However, you were interrupted by a low and groggy voice.

“You want to get under here?” Steve asked you through half-lidded eyes and his arm moving to invite you to move even closer into his body.

Wordlessly, you accepted the offer and went right up to Steve’s body. The book was on his chest while your cheek was at his side. Everything felt so comfortable and domestic — a part of you wished this could last forever.

But right then, the storyline of the book went on a different path, to say the least.

You see, the prince got hurt whilst fighting off some evil spirits. He was bleeding everywhere and in so much pain. But the companion, a beautiful wolf-demon, was able to heal his wounds to the point where it wouldn’t be so life threatening. It was so simple, to use a little magic and bandages in hopes of survival, but the author was able to portray it wonderfully. To thank the woman, the prince moved his arms around her to hold her a warm embrace. It was so sweet, just like the position you were in now. However, it took a turn for the romantics. A little too romantic. An activity you definitely were not currently doing with Steve.

The man kissed her sweetly: from her shoulders, up to her neck, then finally landed on her plump lips. It was beautiful, so serene, accompanied by a drawing of the two in bed with locked lips and legs. Slowly, she started to rock against his leg, adoring the pressure against the place no one had touched before. As she gasped into each kiss, the prince smiled in tandem. Even moving his hips to help the lady feel more pleasure. You wondered how that felt, it was only a slight movement of the hips — there was no way it could feel that good.

But you were so wrong.

Just as you tried to move positions, Steve moved his leg upwards, moving his thigh right against your heat. It felt so good, to the point where you bit your lip to suppress the whimper that was about to escape your lips. The man next to you, tried to find a better position to sleep in too, moving his legs some more until it found solace as it intertwined with your own legs.

Fuck, it felt really good. You tried so hard not to move your hips in tandem so that you could amp up the pleasure. So instead, you continued to read, trying to focus on the writing techniques and nothing else. However, you only began noting the things the characters did with one another. How they whispered sweet nothings as they continued their game to see how long it would take the lady to climax. And you noticed the way you felt warm between your legs, a slight throbbing to seal the deal.

Maybe in another world you would wake up Steve and ask him to let you out of his embrace so that you could excuse yourself to the washroom and down. But not in this one. In this world, you were at peace in his arms. In this world, you really didn’t care about the throbbing ache between your legs because you were extremely sleepy. In this world, you would convince yourself that it would pass. In this world, the sound of both your hearts beating as one was enough of a lullaby to cause even the most stubborn of characters to sleep. Just as you did now, with the book still on Steve’s chest, and your bodies squeezing closer together.

-:-:-:-:-

Steve was an extremely heavy sleeper when he was with you. Most of the time, you would be awake first during these little sleepovers and do something before he even pried his eyes open and then decided to keep them shut because of the sun seeping through the windows. It wouldn’t surprise Steve to see you reading at your desk or braiding friendship bracelets when you had that arts n’ crafts phase a couple years ago. This time, however, he was the one who awoke in the middle of the night to movement from beside him. Maybe it was due to some level of paranoia he has gained over the past few years regarding a life that he wishes you would never need to experience. It’s funny that you were reading books with monsters the world has nightmares about, while he was one of the people who was facing them. He wishes so badly to protect you from all of it. So when you started moving in your sleep, something you never do, Steve felt his body wake up in an instant.

His eyes were having trouble fully opening themselves as he could hear faint whimpering sounds coming from you and slight movements near his thigh. It was enough to turn his head to the left to see what was wrong. But nothing was wrong per se. If anything this was right out of a perverted fantasy he has had millions of times before.

As his eyes finally came into focus at what was in front of him, Steve could only smile and thank the heavens. You were laying in the same position you initially fell asleep in: book held in your hand, it being face down on Steve’s chest on a particular page, while your own face was on the side of his chest. But, the thing that surprised him the most was the grip your thighs had around his own. Slowly, your hips were thrusting back and forth against his leg, humping over and over. Whenever your body hit the perfect spot against your clit, you would mewl against his chest, sending a vibration through his body. Your hard nipples would poke Steve’s stomach once in a while too.

Good Lord, he was so distracted by the vision of you thrusting against his thigh, that he didn’t realize just how hard he had become. He only noticed it when your leg tensed up and moved towards his crotch, touching the underside and head in the process.

You were about to become the death of him tonight.

Curiously, he picked up the book you were reading to put it on the bedside table, when the words jumped out at him.

“And then the prince lifted the dress of the maiden beast. How scary she was to the eyes of the kingdom, but how beautiful she looked with swollen lips and lust-filled eyes. She was wet, so wet that it seeped through the layers of clothing.”

Just then, Steve looked down to notice how your wetness was doing the same thing. Your arousal had gone past your shorts and went onto the cotton bottoms he was wearing. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The man skipped a few paragraphs to see just exactly what the prince and his lady were up to. Words of biting, screaming, thrusting harshly against the wall, even scratches along one another’s backs. It was pornographic, it was beautiful, and Steve was shocked that your virgin eyes read through some of this before falling asleep.

If only he could recreate it with you. Seeing you moan and move to your lust-filled slumber was more than enough of a dream come true to the man. But this was wrong. So wrong. You both were best friends. He loved you, wished he could be more with you. But he believed that wasn’t worthy of you. You were the princess this whole town adored while he was just a former playboy many people seemed to dislike sometimes. There was a part of him that wanted to see how long it would take for you to come against his leg. However, his guilt took over quickly.

“Wake up, my dove. It’s getting hot in here.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The mixture of blankets and his arousal made Steve sweat through his clothes easily.

“Hm? What?” You rolled more onto his chest, your weight atop his body nicely. It would have been the world’s most comfortable position, one that would start off most of his perverted fantasies about you; however, he had to stop himself from thrusting against your thigh that was now perfectly on top of his hardness. “Feels so nice, Stevie,” you murmured, still half-asleep.

“Fuck — you really like that, huh?” The man whispered as you looked up at him with glazed eyes. You were still not cognizant that what you were doing was not in a dream.

“I feel so warm down there, your leg is massaging me nicely,” you moaned whilst humping some more. “Kiss me, please.”

Every move you were doing, every word you were saying, every whimper that came out of your throat — the man has imagined it all before. You were all of his greatest fantasies come to life. He wished so badly to ravish you on the spot and satiate all of the pent-up pleasure your body needed to release. Your lips were swollen now from all of the biting you’ve been doing to quiet down your moans; but, good god, the man was going to memorize it all for the sake of his future sessions with his right hand.

Steve really needed to stop this, and fully wake you up as soon as possible. This wasn’t the normal you, you didn’t even realize exactly what you were doing. “Pretty girl, no matter how much I want to continue this, we can’t.” The words fell from his lips painfully.

“Why not? You don’t feel good?” You whimpered as you reached up and put your arms around Steve’s neck, stopping your hips’ movements all together.

“Feels so good, baby,” Steve moaned loudly this time as he thrusted against your leg like he imagined a million times before. It wasn't helping that you thought your face closer to his in order to hear his breathy moans easier. The man was so close to leaning forward and kissing your plump lips. “But, this isn’t a dream, and you’re not fully awake. I don’t want you to regret this—”

The man was going to ramble on and continue to comfort you into waking up fully. However, you got the message loud and clear. So much so, that your heart dropped and you gasped.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ll move over t-there — ah.” The moan coming out of your mouth was completely involuntary as you lifted your body up and intended on moving down and away from Steve’s figure.

“Did that feel good?” Steve teased, now that you were both fully cognizant of your sleeping status.

“I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry.” If only you could apologize a million times, because you would; your guilty conscience would make sure of it.

“You probably had some sweet dreams, huh?”

Just as you were separated from the man, you heard his words and looked over at his figure. Through the dim lighting of the lamp, you could see that he was holding up the novel you were reading before bed, and it was open to the very scene that inspired any of your hormone-induced movements tonight.

“Oh no,” you whispered. Looking down, there was a wet spot on Steve’s thigh where your heat was pressed against. He was admiring it as if he were memorizing just how it looks. And he was. “This is so embarrassing,” you though out loud

“It’s no big deal, dove. Guys have nudie magazines and a video here and there. I would never judge you for a little novel,” Steve chuckled as he sat up to the headboard to mirror your actions.

“I didn’t know it was going to be like that in the story,” you whispered.

“Did you like it?” Your friend was genuinely curious. Throughout your history as friends, you had never even asked him for advice about relationships — this erotic chapter of the novel must have been a shocking first exposure to it all.

You thought about the question for a few moments. Remembering the emotions and fire you felt in different parts of your body, you could really only tell him the truth. “Y-yeah, I suppose so.”

“Then don’t feel embarrassed or bad about it,” Steve nudged your shoulder sweetly to make you feel less embarrassed over the situation. “Never thought you were into reading it in front of other people though.”

“Don’t tease,” you pouted, putting your head under the blanket to hide from the embarrassment.

“I’ll stop, I promise. But, you did give me a wonderful way to wake up,” you could hear him smiling just by the sound of his voice.

Those words made you slowly peek your way out of the thick blanket to see Steve looming over you with a smirk that teased your soul. The lamp in the room made him glow, while the moon’s beams that were seeping through the blinds made him look like one of the many drawings of the prince in the book you were just reading. It took all the strength within you, not to squeeze your thighs together and satiate the throbbing between them.

“Let’s never talk about this again,” you whispered, the blanket still covering your mouth.

“If that’s what you would be comfortable with,” Steve chuckled as he laid back in his spot.

“Y-yes, I would be.”

After a moment of awkward silence, you both in regular sleeping positions, Steve wanted to break the ice a bit. “It is a well-written book. Maybe I could borrow it sometime.”

“You’re so annoying,” you giggled, grabbing a small pillow on the bed and lightly hitting his chest with it.

“Learn anything while reading? You could use me as a practice dummy.” The man laid on his side now, looking at you as he put on a seductive tone.

“You’re just a dummy, Steve,” you playfully scoffed with a giggle.

“That was the last one, promise. Sweet dreams, dove.”

In truth, Steve wanted you to sleep as quickly as possible so that he could make his way to the washroom and get rid of his hard problem. It was hurting now, even as he tried to think about anything else that would possibly subside his arousal. Your movements and moans will never be erased from his mind. Steve’s imagination was running wild with how you actually sounded as you were feeling pleasure.

No one has ever thanked a book more in the history of mankind.

“Is that what sex is like?” You whispered into the night, cutting off the man’s thoughts.

“What do you mean?” Steve replied as he turned to his side to look at you staring up to the ceiling.

“In the book, they talk about it like it happens so fast and hard,” you said the words with a concerned tone while turning your body towards his to face him.

“Well, it can be fast and hard if the couple wants it that way. But, taking it slow is nice too,” the man next to you chuckled sweetly.

You felt dumb asking the question. For years, you have known that Steve was a lot more experienced than you in the department of relations with the opposite sex. There have been countless times where Steve would tell you about any dates that he has gone on, or imply lewd acts he committed with his girlfriend of the week. And all you would do is nod out of pure curiosity. However, this was the first time you outright spoke about sex with him.

“Right, right, that makes sense. It must feel really nice,” you continued your thoughts.

“It does. Everything is so warm and wet. The noises too are something you’ll never forget. My hand and imagination does not do it justice sometimes.” Right then, Steve’s mind went through flashbacks of times he has laid in bed with the image of you stuck as his muse. He has imagined the way you would react and moan to things he would do with you. Would you bite your lip whilst looking down between your bodies? Would you whimper in the same way you do when you beg Steve to drive you somewhere and he just had a long day at work? Anything you would do would be erotic, and enough fire for him to reach the happiest of endings. However, by the end, he would pray for the day he could experience the real thing with you.

“I wonder what it will be like for me,” you giggled, bringing the blanket close to your face again.

“You got a good idea a few minutes ago,” Steve teased as he looked you up and down.

All you could do was hit his shoulder then hide your face into it as he leaned back onto the bed. “It did feel really, really nice, Steve. I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You liked it, didn’t you?” he said, trying to soothe your embarrassment of it all. As he squeezed his arm around you tighter to have you closer to his chest, Steve realized that your bare thighs had found their way around his again. You looked so beautiful cuddling next to him, tightening your legs slowly. “Then, maybe I can help. You didn’t get to finish, sweet girl.”

The deepness of Steve’s voice resonated through your entire body as you looked up at him with desperate eyes. His proposal sounded so good. You felt this constant throbbing between your legs that only increased ten-fold every time you and Steve accidentally breathed too close together. As you gripped his chest with your hands, and his thigh with your own — you really craved to continue the pleasure you were feeling moments before.

“I didn’t even know that I started,” you pouted.

“Oh, but finishing is one of the best parts,” he teased whilst moving his thigh upwards to massage your cunt slowly.

“Steve—” you moaned like music to his ears.

Your friend began to move his thigh up and down to stroke your pussy, hitting your clit from the right angle to make you bite your lip in between whimpers. He held your face sweetly, making sure that he could see how every movement affected you. Steve was sure that the image of your pupils getting darker would be engraved in his mind forever.

“My best friend needs help, and you know I would do anything for you,” he whispered, hovering his lips above yours.

“More, please.”

“So polite,” Steve teased, quickening his pace and moving one hand to your breasts. “Doing such a dirty thing and now you’re being so nice.”

“I feel so — I feel like I need more,” you said quietly as if it were a desperate plea.

Steve squeezed your right breast sweetly, pinching your hardened nipple through the thick sweater fabric. He noted how you thrusted yourself against his thigh and nearly fell onto his lips as you moaned.

“Is your body on fire? You feel nice, dove,” he smiled, kissing your cheek to tease you.

“So good. Kiss me, Steve, please.” You weren’t sure what took over your body in that moment, but you gripped onto his hair and leaned your lips towards his. Yet, he was the one who kissed you first. It was a kiss that made the angels sing above you, one that you both have been imagining for years and years. Hearing all of the stories of girls in school raving about his talents with his mouth and tongue — a part of you could never believe that he would be that amazing.

But, you were wrong, so wrong.

As he kissed you deeply, poking his tongue through to taste you more, you couldn’t help but whimper loudly into the kiss. Steve adored it, promising himself to try everything he could to hear every variation of your beautiful sounds. Just when he brought a hand down to your back, urging your hips to move forwards on his leg, you swear you were about to see stars. This is what all the magazines were talking about. This is what all the whispered conversations during girl talk were giggling about. This is what the novel you were just reading was writing about when it came to the pleasures of the flesh. You remembered what the lady did in the book, and decided to emulate her actions. Although you were slowing down your kisses, your hand found its way to Steve’s clothed hardness. It was nearly peeking out of the sweatpant elastic by now which made you gasp in surprise.

“God, what did you learn in that book?” Steve moaned as he felt your delicate hand on him.

“The characters in the story were really good friends too. She was always tempted to be the one who helped him out when he was really stressed out.” You smiled into the kiss, noticing how teasing him only made you wetter.

You hand gripped his hardness some more, focusing on the large head that could be felt through the fabric.

“Here I thought that was going to be my job tonight,” Steve’s voice was low now as he kissed you down your neck and moved the hand that was previously on your back, to your front. The shorts you were wearing rode up to tighten upon your cunt. The fabric squeezed your clit, and caused your arousal to get all over the place where your thighs met.

Steve pushed the fabric to the side, noticing how you didn’t wear panties to sleep, and started to lightly massage your clit. “Oh God,” you moaned into his mouth while arching your back.

The movement made Steve want to lay you down on your back to have easier access between your legs. Although you whimpered in slight disappointment when you didn’t feel the pressure of his thigh, that all went away when the man teased your wet entrance with his fingers before going up to your clit again.

“No panties, huh? You’re bound to be the death of me.”

“I normally don’t wear any to bed if I’m wearing shorts,” you whispered, moving yourself to feel his fingers more against your nub.

“Is it alright if I take these off?” He barely got the question out before you began to nod.

Looking at you in all your glory was absolutely mind blowing to Steve. He swears that he felt his cock twitch in excitement when he saw your arousal dripping on his sheets. The light from the lamp made you look like you were glowing, and the man was so tempted to taste what he has been craving for so long. But, he took it slow, circling your clit faster and faster as he leaned down to kiss you deeply. As every moan was swallowed by him, Steve began to thrust himself upon the side of your hip to satiate his arousal.

The moment he stopped kissing you for a moment, he wordlessly looked you in the eye, teasing your entrance now with his fingers. With a nod and smile through bitten lips, you gave him full permission to fill your hole that has been desperately throbbing around nothingness.

“Feels so good, Stevie. Keep doing that, please,” you groaned as he fingered you deeper and deeper.

“Are you close, dove? Are you gonna come? You’re so tight, can barely fit these two fingers,” Steve teased as he kissed your neck to make you moan louder.

“More — need more.” The grip you had on his hair became tighter as you pushed yourself down on his hand, nearly fucking yourself on his fingers. Feeling so stretched out was a brand new experience. You were never one to masturbate, even when everyone mentioned it was so much fun. Everything from seeing a hot guy at the mall, a rockstar who was shirtless on the cover of a magazine, or the angle of a showerhead accidentally focusing on a sweet spot — none of those experiences ever happened in your life. In truth, nothing ever made you curious enough to even try to see if other things would have a similar effect. But something about this night made you want to experience it all with Steve.

The man quickened his pace with his fingers, using one hand to thrust into you while the other massaged your clit sweetly. Your moans echoed through the room as you arch your back in ecstasy. The feeling of Steve’s lips on your throat made you want to thrust against his hand harder, but you were too overwhelmed to move your hips in tandem. Instead, you lifted up your shirt and started to squeeze your lonely nipples.

You aren’t sure what took over — all you knew was that everything felt so good.

“Fuck, you really do have the most perfect tits,” Steve whispered to himself when he got up from your neck. He felt your movements and thought something was wrong. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of your swollen nipples, eager for some sort of touch. When he saw your fingers squeeze your right nipple, he could not handle it anymore and dove down to suck on them, leaving marks on your smooth skin.

“Steve, everything you’re doing feels so good,” you moaned.

“Are you gonna come for me, baby? I know you can do it.”

And you did. Loudly. Just those words, working in tandem with his fingers and mouth, were more than enough to make you orgasm into oblivion. Steve had two fingers inside of you whilst his thumb was massaging your clit in small circles. You barely had the strength to tell him how good it felt since you were shaking below him in pleasure. All you could do was grasp Steve’s hair as he kissed one nipple of yours to the next. It was your very first orgasm, and you were welcoming it with open arms.

“So nice —” you whimpered incoherently.

Steve kissed you, swallowing in your moans of ecstasy. “I’m never gonna get tired of that sound,” he teased as he took out his fingers from inside of you and just massaged your clit as you got down from your high.

“So much better than reading a book,” you giggled as your body calmed down.

“Maybe we gotta find you crazier books then,” Steve smiled with you while kissing your soft lips.

The kiss became deeper as you embraced one another. Your friend found his way on top of you which felt so surreal. Throughout your friendship, you never believed that some of your naughty dreams that you pushed to the side, would ever come true. Steve was having the same thoughts; however, he never pushed those dreams to the side. More likely, he would take care of any hard problem that was in between his legs. But, kissing you only made him throb harder. Especially now that he knows what your pussy felt like on his fingertips,

“Again — I can take more,” you whispered between kisses.

“Needy girl, you really want to?” Steve asked, making sure this wasn’t a dream for him now.

“Mhm, yes, what if we slipped it in?” your hand moved down his body and to the waistband of his pants. Without even stretching the fabric, you looked up at him with sweet eyes. “Would it feel good too? Maybe just the tip?”

Fuck.

Steve needed to calm himself down. He was already on the verge of cumming in his pants, watching you orgasm on his sheets. Even now, as the remnants of your arousal covered his fingers, he wondered how it would feel against his hardness. But, Steve couldn’t do that to you now. Especially knowing the fact that it would be your first time. However, the lust that clouded your eyes as you pouted up at him, was convincing him slowly.

The conflict on Steve’s face was so apparent that you whispered: “oh, we don’t need to—”

“Fuck, I want to,” Steve kissed you sweetly. “Are you sure, baby? Sure that you can take it all?”

“Yes, yes, I promise you that I can,” you smiled up at him and then bit your lips out of a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

You kissed one another again, not being to stand the time your lips were apart from each other’s. As you did so, Steve brought his hands under your sweater to nearly rip it off of you — leaving you beautifully naked on his plaid sheets. His hands were calling to him, telling him that one day he needed to take a picture of you like this. But, there is going to be another time, surely. Right now, he wanted to satiate your body’s cravings. As you stared up at him and squeezed your thighs together, Steve was truly about to combust.

“It’s kinda cold,” you giggled as you stared down at your hardened nipples. Then, you sat up slightly to meet his lips again, but not without whispering close to his mouth. “Can I take off your clothes too?”

With those words, Steve helped you take off his tight shirt and sweatpants. You’ve been teasingly touching it throughout tonight’s escapades; however, seeing his hardness in all its glory, stunned you. It was a lot thicker and longer than you initially believed. In truth, there were countless moments where you had gotten a glimpse of his size. Like the times he invited you to his backyard to swim, and he always seemed to choose tighter swim shorts every week. Or the one time he forgot to bring a towel into the shower so you brought one to him, thinking that he was going to keep the shower curtain atop his body for some modesty; however, when you were on your way out the room, he let go of the plastic curtain a bit too early and you saw a definite outline from the side of your eyes. Every single time, no matter how crazy the situation may be, you felt warm all over your body. This time, however, seeing the way it hung and the precum leaking out of it, you were hypnotized to say the least.

“One sec, dove,” Steve whispered as he saw that you were about to touch it. You looked to see that he bent his body to reach his nightstand and take out a little clear bottle.

“What is that?” You asked innocently as you began to stroke him while he wasn’t looking.

“I-it’s — fuck — it’s lube. We could use a little if you wanted to,” Steve said seriously before bringing a hand to your arousal and massaging your clit sweetly. “Not sure if we will need much,” he teased.

Steve kissed you again, having you lay down on the bed fully. He thrusted his hardness against your pussy a few times, seeing how you reacted to the feeling. You adored it, mewling every time the head of his cock coincided with your clit. In truth, you both could have been doing this for the rest of the night until you two came; however, you were throbbing around nothing and you craved to feel more stretched out than with Steve’s fingers.

You broke away from the kiss, eyeing the bottle of lube curiously, before Steve grabbed it and put it in your hands to look at closer. There were times you saw a similar bottle in the drug store and noticed they were next to the condoms and pregnancy tests. You saw that there were big bold letters on the front: ‘for her pleasure,’ which confused you slightly. But, you decided to give it a try anyways — it must be something good, you guessed.

“Let's use a little, Steve.”

“Yeah, sure. You want me to put it on?” He asked sweetly as he outstretched his hand.

“N-no, I wanna try something,” you smiled up at him before putting a dollop of the gel in your right hand. “You’re so big, Stevie. You’re gonna stretch me out so good.”

Your words were hypnotizing the man above you as you circled your hand over his cock and stroked a few times. And to think that he believed that he was to be taking the lead tonight.

“F-fuck, dove. Your hands are so soft.” Steve’s moans were making you wetter by the second. You felt your heat throb harshly around nothing, before you moved your hips upwards a little and guided his cock into you.

Just the tip — you said the words before.

But, fuck, it felt so nice that you both needed so much more. Steve stayed still above you as he watched the way you move your hips to bounce on his cock from below. Inch by inch, you thrusted yourself upon his lube-covered hardness, causing moans to echo through the room as you got stretched out.

This was so much better than you both could have ever dreamed of.

“So hard,” you whispered as you got in the last inch and took all of Steve’s cock in.

“You’re taking me so well, dove. So fucking wet,” he said as he kissed you and let you get used to the large size.

“Feels nice.”

“Tell me if you don’t like it,” Steve whispered as he kissed your lips one last time before moving his mouth down your neck and finally thrusting his hips into you.

Everything seemed to amplify ten-fold. All of the pleasure, moans, tingling, stretching — it all felt so nice. It was if you two were the only people in the world, with the sky changing from a navy blue to a bright orange. Sweet nothings were whispered into the air as you both wanted to give each other the poetic justice you deserved.

Steve kissed you every time he heard your moans get louder and louder, wanting to taste your ecstasy. He moved back and forth from kissing your lips, to your neck, to your breasts. It all made you grip his hair tightly no matter where he was focusing on your body.

“Keep going please, Steve. Everything feels so full,” you screamed incoherently.

“God, you're throbbing around me. I don’t think I can take it.” The man above you was thrusting into you at an increasingly faster pace, missing the feeling of your warm pussy every time he was even an inch out of you.

“Steve, I wanna feel you cum,” you whispered before grabbing his hair to have him stop sucking on your nipples in order to look at you.

He adored how needy you were. “Dirty little mouth, Princess.”

“Need more — need you to go faster.”

“You know I've been dreaming about this moment time and time again. Who knew all it would take is a dirty novel, isn’t that right?” Steve teased as he reached town and pinched your clit playfully.

“You’ll never regret driving me to the bookstore from now on,” you giggled in between whimpers.

In truth, you didn’t notice the way you were moving yourself upwards to meet his thrusts. It made Steve bite his lip to stop himself from cumming inside of you prematurely. “Dove, you're taking me so well — fuck — better than I’ve ever imagined,” he moaned.

“What have you imagined? What were we doing?” you asked it so innocently, stroking his chest as he continued to thrust into you.

Where did you learn how to do that? — was what he really wanted to ask. Instead, his mind started to blurt out his fantasies.

“Sometimes I’d have you like this: fucked out and cock drunk in the middle of the night. Other times it would be me bending you over while you’re studying. Always wearing those tiny skirts with the slit.”

“For you, I wear it for you. I know the yellow skirt is your favourite, isn’t it?” You teased him now.

You always noticed the way he would ask you pick things up from the floor, mention that your shoes were untied while he was standing behind you, or the way he would always take off a piece of lint from the back of your skirt — even if you had just used a lint roller on it a few moments before. He loved the way the fabric would sway, and you loved the way he looked at you. It made you feel so warm even on the windiest and coldest of days.

One thing was for certain, it definitely felt like such a tease in comparison to how your heart and body felt right now.

“You little minx,” Steve moaned as he thrusted into you faster.

“Do you think I don’t imagine you ripping my skirt into a million pieces every time you stare at me?” the words fell from your lips breathily while Steve’s pace increased more and more. “You’re not so good at recognizing mirrors in front of you when you’re staring at the back of my tiny skirt, huh?”

“God, you like it when I’m being your perv, naughty girl,” Steve stated.

“Makes me feel nice. Just like this.”

Just then, Steve made sure that his thrusts and massages on your clit were working in tandem with the way your pussy was throbbing on his cock. He could tell with the way you were arching your back more and closing your eyes, that you were bound to orgasm soon. “You’re so beautiful, dove. So beautiful and taking me so well.”

“Oh my—” your voice sounded so sweet as you looked up at him with desperation in your eyes.

“That’s it, let it happen,” Steve grunted, making sure to stop himself from cumming so that he could time it with yours.

“Faster, please,” you nearly screamed now as everything was hitting you in all the perfect spots.

Steve took that as his sign to move faster: from his hands to his hips. He loved to see the way you were reaching your climax on his cock — an image he would never get out of his mind for the rest of his life. You were squeezing his hardness tighter and tighter, with your moans getting louder in tandem. And so, Steve angled his cock upwards to try and hit your sweetest spot inside of you.

And he did.

Good god, he did.

“That’s it, that’s my dove.” He chanted over and over as you were shaking beneath him, orgasming harder than you did previously.

“S-Steve, fuck.” You rarely swear, but to know that he was the one to cause this little word to fall from lips with such grace — it was the final straw for Steve.

He began to cum inside of you, your pussy milking him with each thrust. All of his arousal was filling you up to the point where it started to spill out and glisten all over your thighs. “So tight,” he whimpered above you.

For a few moments, you both came down from your highs. With a few thrusts and kisses, you allowed your bodies and heart rates to calm down as one. It was beautiful and so bewitching to experience it all. You weren’t so sure what it would be like now. Being friends for so long meant that you both knew so much about each other. However, now, you two seemed to see a lot of each other too. There was no turning back to what it was before. Not after everything felt so good in this way.

You both looked into each other’s eyes before kissing sweetly, enveloping each other in one last kiss before breaking apart under the morning sun’s rays.

“You are so beautiful,” Steve whispered as he moved to lay next to you.

“So are you,” you smiled while cuddling close to him.

“Are you alright?” He asked sweetly, kissing your forehead in the process.

“Yeah, I guess I feel a little sore,” you giggled as you moved your head upwards to feel your lips on his again.

Steve gasped into the kiss, breaking it apart to get some tissues from his nightstand. “Do you need a bath, some water, or food?” He asked whilst wiping the remnants of his climax away on your thighs.

“I’m fine, Steve, I promise.” You smiled as he looked at you with the biggest hazel gaze.

Truthfully, you looked like a goddess glowing next to him with the dawn reflecting on your skin. He wasn’t sure if there were enough words in any dictionary to describe your beauty. Maybe not even from the book you were reading before bed. “How about you sleep for a bit and then when you wake up, I’ll have all your favourite breakfast foods on the kitchen table?” The offer was so tempting coming from Steve’s lips.

“Hmm, what if I want to help you?” You giggled. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be separate from him for too long. The place in between your thighs was begging for his touch again. “There is a scene in that book where the prince and the lady were eating breakfast and then—”

You stopped speaking when you saw Steve reach behind him to find the novel on his nightstand, before flipping pages in the book to see what you were talking about. “Maybe you should read this story to me another day and I can help you every time you get really excited during a scene,” he winked.

“Another day?”

“Yes, for now, we could get started on writing the beginning of our newest story, dove. If you would like to, of course.” Steve whispered the words as he hovered his lips above yours, teasing you with each breath that tickled your skin.

“I’d really, really love that,” you smiled up at him, bringing your arms around his neck in the process.

If one thing was for certain after tonight: both of you found comfort and love in each other’s arms — and later on in a few different sections of the book store too.

-:-:-:-:-

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dollyhao · 3 months

Text

succubus!reader x nerdy!ellie

summary: ellie is desperate to lose her virginity that has been looming over her her whole college career.

toni’s note: i made it guys! i promised this back in october and it’s the end of january… but it’s here.

cw: this is pure smut, no plot at all lol. 1.8k words

༊*·˚

ellie has not a single regret about what she’s about to do. ellie is in college and is still a virgin, at this point she didn’t think she’d ever lose her virginity. until one of her friends joked that she should summon a sex demon, that it was ‘the only way she’d get laid’. it wasn’t meant to be taken seriously, but desperation makes people do crazy things.

she read in an old book she found in the library about one in particular, the book had a picture of you drawn in and ellie thought you were absolutely gorgeous and perfect for her. what was the worst that could happen?

ellie lights the candles around the circle she made on her bedroom floor. she chanted your name 5 times like the book told her, then after 20 seconds the candles all blew out and a gust of purple smoke floats in the air. you pop out the smoke looking even more perfect than the book describes.

“who dares summons me?” you say in this slow sensual voice that ellie feels course through her body. you look around the room you were summoned in before your eyes rest on a short girl with black rimmed glasses on her face. ellie is looking at you with those pretty green puppy eyes, mouthed formed into an o shape.

“a girl? well thats new,” you walk closer to ellie sizing her up. “your cute… tell me what you want from me.” “i-i,” ellie is literally speechless. shes staring up at you, the lady demon whos probably gonna take her virginity. you have long horns on your head and a cute skinny tail, but the best part is that your completely naked. breast out in the open, nipples standing at attention, nothing covering your cunt and it’s just begging for ellie to drop to her knees to taste you.

“did you call me here to waste my time?” you ask her putting your hands on your hips with a quirked brow. “no no! i-i want you to take my virginity.” ellie says playing with her fingers. you hum, “ok ill do it. but you have to sign a contract-” “yes yes! anything!” you spawn a paper out of thin air, “dont you wanna know what your agreeing to?” but by the time you finish your sentence ellie has already signed the paper.

after she is done signing, the paper disappears. “i wanna let you know i-i’ve never done this before. well i almost did in my fourth year of highschool but that was a missed opportunity-“ ellie’s nervous rambling was cut off by you running your hands over her shoulders and ripping her shirt open exposing a blue sports bra underneath. ellie gapes at you, suprised at the sudden intrusion. you push the ripped shirt off her shoulders. “do you wanna touch me?” you say voice softening seeing how nervous the poor girl is.

she nods vigorously trailing her hands up your tummy to your breast. “you can touch me however you want.” you say smirking at her. ellie feels like she can hear your voice inside her head, a slow sensual voice with a rasp that can only be described as wild and sexy. she feels a rush of arousal pulse through her as she pushes you to lay on her bed. your eyebrows shot up, you feel her start to kiss down your stomach swirling her tongue around your navel before her head dips between your legs.

you buck slightly when you feel her inexperienced tongue flicking all around your cunt. she takes your clit into her mouth rolling and flicking her tongue all around it (like they do in the videos she watched before the summoning). you can feel her breathing heavy against you. she pushes two experimental fingers into you feeling how wet and tight you were. you taste sweet like honey and something else addictive that ellie can’t name, ellie suspects its part of your demon powers.

you grab her hair squeezing your legs around her head trying to contain your moans, no human has ever made you feel so good. you might just… like this girl. she’s cute and gentle. and she looks at you like your aphrodite instead of a sex demon.

you feel yourself about to cum when you push her head from between your thighs. ellie is looking at you, chin covered in your juices looking pussy drunk with her glasses fogged up. “are you ok?” she asked you, looking genuinely concerned. you want to coo at her but instead you flip her over taking place in between her legs this time. you peer up at her with this look that looks like you want to devour her. you pull down her sweat pants and underwear licking your lips at her slick pussy.

you give her clit a sweet kiss before using your thumb to rub circles on it. ellies moans out loud when she feels your abnormally long tongue enter her. your tongue is reaching places her fingers couldnt possibly reach. she chants you name which only encourages you to move your thumb faster on her clit. ellie grabs your horns and pull before locking her ankles together keeping you still as she grinded on your tongue feeling the knot in her stomach ready to explode. you let out a groan as ellie tugs on your horns. “im so close.” she says before her body goes rigid.

you pull away from ellie, swallowing her essence, seeming to have had an energy boost. “is there anything else you wanna try?” you say rubbing up and down her legs. she nods getting off the bed grabbing a box from under it. in the box are sex toys but ellie pulls out a girthy purple strap. “oh,” you say eyes widening, “you wanna use that on me?” you ask with that same sensual tone from the beginning. “yes.. please”

she puts the strap on before she feels you push her down on the bed straddling her. you hover over her dick grabbing it and running it up and down your slick cunt. “you want me to fuck you?” you say placing a hand on her chest still hovering over her. ellie nods her head grabbing your hips panting in anticipation, “yes please…” “ask nicely,” you say leaning down licking and biting her ear. “please fuck me. please.” ellie says bucking her hips. the tip of her dick pushes into you, you moan sitting completely on ellie’s cock.

you are bouncing and riding with no sign of slowing down. ellie is running her hands over your body, transfixed at the way your breast bounce as you ride her. when she sits up, she wraps her arms around your waist, holding you close to her as she kisses your neck and chest leaving marks.

you grab ellie’s face, tilting her head to the side so you can have access to her neck. you use your tongue to lick and suck marks into her neck until you get a little too excited and nick her neck drawing blood. ellie let’s out a groan followed by a guttural moan, completely dazed. you lick at her neck getting all the blood up before humming and planting a kiss on the mark.

ellie is gripping your ass meeting your thrust with her own desperate ones. “are you close?” ellie asked desperately, leaning to kiss you again. “very.” you coo out, kissing her using that long muscle of yours, twirling your tongue around hers.

you let go and ellie is staring in awe at the beautiful look you made while cumming. she lays back on the bed, exhausted and satisfied. when she feels your very sharp nails trail up her stomach and latch at her sports bra causing it to rip as if it was being cut by scissors. “more.” you whisper with a wide grin.

“what?” ellie asked wide eyed. “i want more. i think im going to keep you.” you whisper in her ear.

༊*·˚

I, Ellie Williams, am allowing succubus y/n to take on a human form and co habitat with me. I will fulfill her needs of sex so that she may stay by my side and use me for a long as she wills.

signed: ellie williams

#wlw #lesbian #ellie williams #the last of us #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #loser ellie #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader

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buckyandgeraltsupremacy · 6 months

Text

remus x shy!reader

author: sj

warnings: fluff; reader is in hufflepuff; not edited lol

let me know if you want a part 2 cause i love writing for remus rn

masterlist

part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5

---

you shared a lot of classes with the marauders. you weren’t even sure they knew your name. but even though you thought they didn’t know you, there was one marauder who always noticed you. remus could spot you in a crowd of one hundred. his eyes always searching for a yellow tie and your h/c hair. he thought you were so smart and always watched you take notes in every class admiring how focused you were on your studies. to be honest, that’s one of the reasons he always went to the library to study, he knew you’d be in there as well.

james had noticed this little thing remus had for you as early at 3rd year. he watched remus silently watch the hufflepuff girl with h/c hair. he didn’t try to intervene until they were older, still watching him pine over the same girl that had remus’ attention. he didn’t really know what to do so he told sirius and of course he knew exactly what to do.

you were sitting in potions after class had ended, classmates filtering out and gathering your things when someone came up to you and started talking to you. low and behold it was sirius.

“hey! i’m sirius” he said, shoving his hand towards you. you nodded, waking yourself out of shock that a marauder was introducing himself to you like they weren’t the talk of the school.

“y/n.” you replied, shaking his hand.

“great. my friend remus, you know remus right? tall, lanky, always holding a book, he’s sick and is always draining on and on about how smart you are so i thought i’d ask you for notes for him. id give him mine but i didn’t take any.” you cheeks turned red at the idea of them talking about you, much less remus thinking that you were smart.

“um. yeah. i can do that, let me copy them onto another piece of parchment and then you can take them to him.”

“perfect! come by the gryffindor common room anytime tonight and we’ll be there!”

when you finished up copying the notes that night, you stopped by the gryffindor common room to drop off the notes. you didn't have the password so knocking on the portrait would have to do. you stepped back and the door swung open to reveal sirius giving you and oddly big grin.

"come on in, love! so lovely of you to drop these notes off for poor remus." he ushered you inside and you stepped through looking around the room. you quickly found the rest of the marauders sitting by the fireplace, james, peter, and a tired looking remus. his eyes widened when you walked through the door, instantly shooting to james and peter and back to you.

"had a surprise for you remus. i know how much you love your notes, so i thought i'd ask for some from the master herself." sirius said, pushing you towards the group. your cheeks burned as you dug through your bag on you shoulder to find your copy of notes for him. you finally found them and took a few steps forward to remus who was sitting up straighter as you got closer.

"here you go. i just copied them from the notes that i took today. i hope they're good enough. i'm not sure what your normal style is that you're used to so i this helps." you said in a rush, looking down at your notes. you extended them towards the boy sitting by the fire. he reached for them.

"thank you so much y/n! you really didn't have to do this. did sirius make you any threats or force you do this?" he asked, lowering his voice slightly. you lightly laughed as a shocked sirius gasped and muttered some words you couldn't understand.

"no, no. i promise i did this of my own free will." you said, glancing up at his eyes. his smile reached his eyes once your eyes met and you instantly felt warm inside.

and so thats how your relationship started to form with the marauders. they soon started coming up to talk with you during classes and inviting you to sit with them at meals when they noticed you sitting by yourself.

your favorite though, was when you'd be in the library and remus would ask to sit at your table. he would work with you silently and you'd trade questions about homework back and forth, eventually even recommending books to each other.

you even got so close to them that the boys started including you in the teasing. one specific day, the boys found you and remus reading in the common room together. you were sitting on the ground in front of the coffee table and he was sitting behind you on the couch. the boys came in loud and instantly disrupted the calmness. sirius came bouding over to you and sat across the coffee table on the floor.

"i thought of one for you." he said, slapping his hands on the table. you jumped at the abrupt sound and leaned back on to remus' legs. the boys had been trying to figure out a good nickname for you so you could join their fun nicknames, but you weren't an anigmus like they were so there were lots of options but not of them really were fitting you quite right.

"what is it?" you asked, relaxing against remus' legs.

"flea. its perfect. you're small, quiet and annoying." you gasped and immediately sat up in protest.

"no! thats horrible i don't want to be called a flea, you git!" you exclaimed.

"but it just fits so well, flea. i can't deny how perfect it is for you." you started to protest, but a big hand stopped you. the hand, from remus, wrapped around your shoulder and guided you back to his legs, scooching you to between his legs and under him. his hands grabbed your shoulders and started to work there, massaging your tight shoulders.

"we're not calling her flea." remus insisted. you shivered and you hoped he thought it was from his hands and not his commanding voice. james then spoke up.

"what about hoppers?" you tilted your head and looked up at remus to hear his response, not protesting that one.

"she sure is as cute as a bunny and the size of one too. i vote yes." he said, looking down into your face. james nodded his head and sirius huffed.

"i still like flea better but hoppers will do when you don't annoy me, flea." sirius grumbled. you rolled your eyes and relaxed into remus' touch more, your eyes closing. unbeknownst to you, his small smile grew as he continued to massage your shoulders.

#remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x reader fluff #remus x reader #remus x reader fluff #marauders #the marauders #marauders x reader #marauders era

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shockercoco · 1 month

Text

Only Pleasure Remains

Feyd Rautha x reader

Warnings - 18+, smut, oral (fem receiving), fingering, squirting, penetration, dirty talk, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, basically enemies to lovers

Word count - 3608

a/n - this was supposed to be posted over a week ago, but I kept procrastinating on finishing it. This is also my longest imagine so far lol. Disclaimer: I haven't read the books yet I've only seen the movies, but I just ordered the first one. I hope you enjoy :)

You’re currently pacing back and forth in one of the vip suites, waiting for the fight to start. It’s the fight that will determine whether or not you’ll have to marry the most deranged person you’ve ever laid eyes on.

Feyd Rautha is known for being unhinged in and out of the arena. It could be because of his past that he lacks compassion, or he just has no regard for anyone other than himself. He’ll kill anyone in an instant without blinking an eye, but sometimes he’ll take his time to enjoy the moment.

You’ve never talked to Feyd and have only looked at him from a distance each time you visited the planet for your father to discuss business matters. When he would join the meetings you would avoid eye contact, but he would always watch you. When you guys would pass each other in the corridors you would keep your head down and walk faster, but you knew he was looking at you. You never knew if he was looking at you like a piece of meat or an actual human being. What really made you sick is that, despite his horrific personality, you still found him attractive.

Recently your father and Baron Harkonnen had a huge argument and couldn’t come to an agreement, and of course the only way to resolve the issue is with a battle with you as collateral. It wasn't completely out of the blue since your father was somewhat close to the Baron, but it was a terrible proposition. Baron Harkonnen wants to make sure his bloodline is secure before he dies and Feyd takes control, but of all the women in the universe he had to pick you.

So now here you are a week later, along with the other citizens inside the arena, waiting to see the outcome of the fight. You already know what it will be though, everyone knows it, but you’re hoping that just this once the outcome will be different.

Eventually, you hear Feyd’s name being announced to the crowd followed by him strutting into the arena with no emotion on his face. You can’t bring yourself to watch the fight so you turn your back as soon as it starts, not even bothering to take a seat. The arena is dead silent once the fight starts, allowing you to hear the clashing of swords and the shouts coming from each man.

It’s not long before Feyd’s announced as the winner, as usual, and the crowd erupts in cheers. You turn back around and catch sight of the dead bodies splayed around Feyd who's basking in the praise from the sea of people in the stands. Turning your head to your left you lock eyes with your father who gives you an apologetic smile, but you just shake your head not knowing what to say to him. You take one last look into the arena and at Feyd’s face, before leaving.

The guards already knew of the arrangement and wouldn’t let you stray too far from the grounds of the house. It didn’t take long for you to find out about the several lady’s maids you now had – more than back home – because they basically circled around you until you finally told them that you didn’t need them at the moment. One remained close behind you though.

When you were shown to your room, you were met with one that was far from small. You had a king size bed, a spacious bathroom with a walk-in shower, and a balcony that allowed you to look out into the distance at the skyline. You notice your knick knacks and personal items were scattered around the room on tables and shelves, and your clothes had already been unpacked and inside the closet.

They really don’t waste time here.

As beautiful as the room was, it couldn’t replace the one you had back home – the life you had back home.

Later that night after you bathed, you were about to call it a day and just crawl under the covers, but you decided against it. Luckily there was no one standing outside of your room or lurking in the hallway, but there was still a chance of you getting caught by one of the guards or by one of the Baron’s henchmen.

Even though you’ve been here many times, you have only gone to the places that were necessary: the throne room, restrooms, dining hall, and the room for meetings. As you walked you noticed that many of the rooms were either locked or empty. You did manage to find a room full of paintings and another resembling an armory that seemed to be for display only.

Some of the items were tarnished, some looked extremely fragile, and some still had the blood on it from the time it was used. When you heard a pair of paced footsteps, you decided to make your way to the other side of the house to continue your exploration and to avoid being seen.

The other side gave you a completely different vibe, mainly because the corridors were barely lit. The main source of light came from the fireworks exploding outside, an applaud for Feyd. You started to wish you had brought a candle or anything that could grant you more light since the ceiling lights weren’t helping much. The farther you walked, you started to feel more and more uneasy. You felt like someone was watching you, which is ironic because this wasn’t the best lighting for seeing.

Feeling it was time to end the exploration, you turn around and start to head back but stop when you hear something. Or, at least you thought you heard something. It was dead silent except for the faint sounds of explosions. You were about to keep walking when you felt someone wrap their arm around and press a blade to your neck. The person’s scent is familiar though, reminding you of what you would smell every time you walked past Feyd.

Was he just casually hiding in the shadows?

“What are you doing here? How did you get past the guards?” you hear Feyd ask from behind you in his usual raspy voice, the rasp that you love but will never admit outloud.

You're relieved that it’s not a random person, but still a little fearful given the fact he could end your life at any second. The thought practically paralyzes you.

“I was just about to head back to my room,” your response is short.

“That doesn’t answer what I asked. No one’s allowed this way,” Feyd says as he circles around to stand in front of you with the edge of his blade still pressed to your neck. “Wait a minute, I’ve seen you around. Aren’t you that lord’s daughter, the one I’m so supposed to be marrying?”

You were about to just give him a simple nod, but then remember the blade pressed against your throat. “Yes.”

He waits a moment as he looks at you before moving his hand away and leaving it to hang by his side along with the blade. Despite being surrounded by darkness, his blade still manages to shine. You automatically take a step back.

“I could’ve killed you, why didn’t you say anything?” he asks, though his tone makes it clear he doesn’t care too much.

“To be fair you had a blade pressed to my neck,” you answer as Feyd’s dark eyes stare into yours. He doesn’t reply right away as he looks you up and down. His stare makes you feel exposed considering you’re only wearing a thin nightgown covered by a robe. Unconsciously, you begin to play with your fingers behind your back. Feyd notices your fidgeting though.

“Are you scared of me?” he suddenly asks, and you’re not sure how to reply. Everyone is scared of him, but is he genuinely asking or is he trying to get a kick out of this?

“No,” you choose to say, and he smirks.

He starts to slowly walk around you as he continues speaking. “No? Do I just make you nervous then? It has to be something because you’ve always avoided eye contact with me, and I know how you would distance yourself from me on purpose. In fact, this is the first conversation we’ve had. Come on now, we’re going to be married soon, we should be able to talk to each other,” he smirks.

Well, what the hell am I supposed to say to that?

“Isn’t that how you want people around you to feel? Everyone has their weakness, what’s yours?” you question as he continues to circle you.

He doesn’t hesitate to say, “I don’t have one.”

“Everyone has one,” you pause as you think then say, “what about the women you always have around? Everyone knows you’re a playboy, that sounds like a weakness to me.”

He stops in front of you to look down at you and into your eyes with the smirk still on his face. “That sounds like jealousy to me.”

“It’s simply an observation,” you shrug.

“You know, I usually don’t let the women I sleep with talk to me like this,” he says with a tilt of the head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that for you I guess I will make an exception, given the fact you’re my bride and all,” he says before he circles behind you again to press his body up against yours. He leans into your ear to whisper, “but just this time.”

You wish you could stop the goosebumps from appearing on your skin or the shiver that works its way through your body. You thought Feyd wouldn’t notice, but he must’ve because he leans back with a light chuckle. Right now all you want to do is slap him across the face for his arrogance and yourself for the way your body reacted to his words.

“I won’t sleep with you just yet, my darling, but it will happen soon because it’s obvious you can’t wait,” Feyd says as he slowly backs away from you. You turn around wanting to say something else, but before you get the chance he says, “run along now, it’s getting late.”

He keeps that smug look on his face as you give him one last look before leaving. Your mind tells you to hate him, but your body says otherwise as a warm feeling travels through your core as you walk back to your room.

You also hate how every night after part of you expects Feyd to walk through your bedroom door. He didn’t come the night after your encounter in his corridor. He didn’t come the next night either or the night after that. You knew it was foolish waiting for a man that has his own sex slaves – a man that you’re supposed to detest.

It isn’t until the fourth day that Feyd arrives at your door; little did you know Feyd was having his own internal conflict. He hadn’t used any of his slaves since that night he caught you in his corridor, not feeling the need for them. He also was not a fan of his feelings toward you.

You were standing out on your balcony enjoying the night breeze when you heard a knock on your door. You knew it could only be one of your lady’s maids at this time, so you didn’t hesitate to tell the person outside the door to come in as you took a couple steps back into your room. In walked a lady’s maid that you have grown quite fond of over the past couple of days.

“There’s a visitor here for you, would you like me to send them in,” she asks.

You wanted to say no given the current time, but you nodded anyway and watched as she walked back out. Not even a few seconds later, Feyd replaces her spot covered in a black robe, a stark contrast to his pale skin, and closes the bedroom door behind him.

Your body stiffens, nearly stuck to the ground, as you quickly try to figure out your emotions in your head. Feyd takes his time walking towards you as he looks around your room, and this gives you enough time to pull yourself together. You step back out onto the balcony as he gets closer and closer, and he follows you out there.

“Nice view don’t you think?” he asks as he stands next to you, looking out into the distance.

“Did you really come here to ask me about the view?” you look up at him.

“Straight to the point, I like it,” he smirks.

“Straight to what point?” you act dumb and put some space in between the two of you.

“Why do you think I’m here?” he tilts his head down at you.

“Apparently to talk about the view,” you reply in a joking manner and look out into the distance to avoid his gaze. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his jaw tighten.

“You’re making this hard.”

“What?” you ask, still not looking at him. You want him to hear him say outloud what he wants.

Except he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he quickly closes the distance between the two of you as he places his lips on yours and his hands on your cheeks. The force he uses startles you and pushes you back a couple steps, but you recover and grab onto his wrists as you begin kissing him back.

You wonder for a second if you’re giving in too easily, but the feeling of Feyd’s grip on you tosses the idea out of your mind.

Feyd hated how needy and desperate he felt as his lips attacked yours. The kiss was rough, but Feyd was trying to hold himself back from going too far. Normally he wouldn’t care about how rough or gentle he was with a woman because his slaves never complained — not like they had a choice — and some of them even came to him first to satisfy their own needs. This time though, it was him coming to you.

Feyd deepens the kiss, keeping his hold on your face firm, as he starts to push you back into your bedroom. Once your legs hit the bed, he unties the knot on your robe before slowly peeling it off your shoulders leaving you nothing but your nightgown and undergarments. He breaks the kiss to push you back, and you scoot your body into the center of the bed.

The way he focuses on you as he stands at the bottom of the bed makes you feel like one of Feyd’s opponents in the arena. The thought sends warmth between your legs.

He takes off his own robe leaving him in only his underwear before he starts to crawl on the bed, trailing a hand up one of your ankles up to your thigh, until he’s hovering above you. Your breathing is shallow and your heart races in anticipation for what’s to come. The only other person you've had sex with was one of your close friends back on your home planet, and you enjoyed it, but that friend wasn’t Feyd. He wasn’t a murderous maniac known for his sexual relations like Feyd was. Another wave of electricity passes through your body.

Feyd dips his head down and starts placing kisses on your neck from your ear to your collarbone, making a low whine escape your lips. All the while, the hand gripping your thigh inches farther north until it reaches your panties and begins to touch you through them. It doesn’t take too long for a wet spot to appear on the fabric, and it’s obvious that Feyd notices too, seeing as how you can feel a smirk form on his lips. You squeeze your legs together wanting more from him, but Feyd pushes your legs back open and bites the skin on your neck.

You draw in a breath as he whispers into your ear, “be patient.” His voice may be light, but you can hear the firmness behind it.

He moves his face away from your neck and takes his time as he moves his body lower and lower until his face is between your thighs. He pulls your underwear down your legs before tossing them to the side, and helps you dispose of your nightgown revealing your bare body to him. You start to wish that your bedroom lights were off as you look down to see Feyd’s dark eyes taking all of you in.

A smile spreads across his face once he notices you shying up. “There’s no hiding from me now.”

He says nothing else and dives right into you. His movements are rough yet gentle as he eats you out, resembling hunger. The way he flicks his tongue over you like a snake has your back arching while you let out a consistent string of moans. You tightly grab hold of the blanket beneath you with both hands as you move your hips into his mouth. You can’t help but roll your eyes from the speed of his tongue.

Feyd places one hand onto your stomach before moving it up to one of your breasts to grab hold of, while his other hand joins his lips between your thighs. He wastes no time slipping a finger into you as he moves his mouth up to suck harshly on your clit.

“Oh my god,” you say breathlessly. One of your hands lets go of the blanket to join Feyd’s on your breast.

The finger inside of you pumps into you at a measured pace before gradually getting faster. He decides to add another finger without letting up on his speed. You can tell that him pleasuring you gives him satisfaction, noticing the fact that he’s in his own world. Naturally, your body starts to move away from his mouth and your legs start to close as the pleasure becomes more intense.

Feyd releases his hold on your clit and lifts up his head to make eye contact with you. “I need you to stay still,” he tells you in more of a warning tone and pulls you back to his mouth before continuing, not waiting for you to answer.

Once you feel your orgasm nearing your moans get louder as they turn into whines. Feyd notices the way you become shaky and how you start writing around more so he moves his mouth away and pulls his fingers out of you. Your mouth falls open as you look down at him, the warmth previously building up in your stomach slowly starting to fade away. You’re about to say something when he looks into your eyes and shushes you.

He then moves his hand on your breast and places it on your stomach, gently adding pressure. You’re confused and you expect him to say something, but he doesn’t.

Then suddenly you feel his fingers start to move inside you again, except this time at a different pace. He begins to quickly pump his fingers in and out of you, causing you to throw your head back as your back lifts off the bed. You feel yourself getting close to tumbling over the edge again, although this time it feels different. It’s unlike all the other times you have brought yourself to an orgasm.

Right as your orgasm hits you, you feel a gush of liquid squirt out of you. You cum with a loud cry, forgetting the fact that the doors to your balcony are still wide open. When the thought pops into your mind you don’t even care about anyone being able to hear you.

Feyd stops when you move your hands down to try and push him away. He looks down at his chest to see the mess you created and lets out a low laugh. As your body starts to relax, you look down to see Feyd standing at the bottom of the bed pulling down his underwear to reveal his hard length to you.

“Don’t worry, I’m not done with you yet,” he tells you as he positions himself between your legs.

He rubs the tip of his length up and down your slit spreading your arousal around. You let out a whine at his teasing and he says, “ready for another one, are we?”

He doesn’t stop right away, but when he finally glides into your soaked opening it pulls a moan out of both of you. He places his arms on either side of your head and leans down to connect his lips to yours. The kiss is rough and sloppy, and you tightly wrap your arms around his waist pulling him closer to you. You don’t even care if you seem desperate anymore.

You’re still sensitive from your previous orgasm, but Feyd doesn’t care as he ruthlessly pounds into you. Once he finds the spot inside of you that makes you gasp, he makes a mental note of it as he repeatedly thrusts into it.

It doesn’t take long for your next orgasm to build up, releasing it with a silent cry as you unintentionally dig your fingers into Feyd’s back causing him to groan in your ear in pleasure. He keeps his thrusts consistent as you begin to leak around his cock and onto the blanket beneath you. There’s no doubt you’ll have to change the bedding later.

With another smirk he firmly grips your jaw and says, “I hope you can take a few more, my darling.”

#austin butler x reader #austin butler #austin butler smut #austin butler imagine #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha #feyd rautha smut #feyd x reader #dune part 2 #smut

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noturmuse · 2 years

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I really should carry a book with me everywhere cuz I finish early at work today and I only realized when I was already on my way there :(

#I used to always bring books with me for school #I mean we had required silent reading but that canceled itself out cuz I love reading #so I would’ve found time to read during lunch or something anyway #I didn’t even bring headphones so it’s not like I can kill time watching youtube #for context I work at the same place as my parents so we leave together but they finish like an hour and 25 min after me #I’ll find something to do lol #thoughts

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ofjunemoment · 9 months

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getting even | lee haechan (P1)

synopsis — Haechan is notorious for his pranks. Who can forget about the one time the campus fountain was bleeding red? You were weary of never getting on his wrong side, but when you get to know him better, it seems like behind all that front he's a sweet and caring guy. That is until you get a bucket of water dunked on you straight after he promised he wouldn't pull something on you. You're not only pissed that he had fooled you like this, but that he chose such a simple prank.

pairing - haechan x fem!reader

genre - university!au, (one-sided) enemies, strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn, very slice of life, eventual smut (MDNI)

Wc - 11.6k

content - clubbing scene, reader is drunk at one point, random idols mentioned, university settings

warnings: mentions of throwing up (nothing too detailed)

a/n - hi lovelies <3 heres the first part to getting even!!! while i was writing the story i noticed it was getting very long (and i still have like... five more scenes to write lol) so i thought of getting this out first ^^ not a lot happens here but stay tuned for the next part because.. a lot.. happens there hehe. i hope you enjoy readingggg!!

Walking into your lecture, your eyes scan around to find an empty spot to occupy, but you were pleasantly surprised to see your friend Naeun sitting in one corner, leaning back as she scrolls through her phone. She beams when she sees you, patting the seat next to hers.

“Fancy seeing you here,” You plop down your bag next to your chair, teasing her from the get-go. She whines shyly at your callout.

“I was struck with academic motivation never felt before. It felt like I was destined to come in today and be as studious as possible,” She points towards the lecture, which is barely filled with students. It’s a nine a.m. lecture, but you decided to come in early today to snag a good seat that lets your focus on the lecture with your upcoming assignment that's due; Naeun on the other hand barely comes in after the first two weeks of the semester, regardless of what time the lecture is. If it’s not mandatory, why go?

Her motto is what makes you raise your eyebrow at her now, scanning her figure as if to fish out the real reason why she’s here.

“Don’t look at me like that! I actually came in to study today,” you raise your hands in self-defence, looking away from her with a giggle, opting to stop teasing her.

But not even a minute later, she cracks; “Okay, fine. If you keep insisting me to tell you I guess I have no choice,”

“But I didn’t even—”

“I heard from Haneul who heard from Heejin’s girlfriend who was at that book club meeting with Renjun, which for some reason thought Norwegian Wood the book didn’t match the song, which is such a hot take that only he would take. Anyways,” She crosses her leg over her knee, leaning in as if to tell you a secret, manicured hands cupping the side of her face.

“Haechan might pull something today, at this lecture.” You barely caught her words, but after a few seconds of taking in what she said, you lean back and look at her with wide eyes.

“Haechan? I thought he was finished?” Naeun nods her head at lightning speed, her expression matching yours too.

“See, that’s what I thought too, but apparently he only had some sort of weird writer's block but for his pranks. I think he missed all the attention he used to get, not that he’s any less popular now, but you know what I mean,” You, in fact, have no idea what she means. But with the new information that you’re now fed, you’re hyperaware of your surroundings, looking around for any abnormalities within your vicinity.

Ever since the orientation of the first year of your course, when you met Naeun and had to fight against falling asleep with all the alcohol the seniors were feeding you as a sort of welcoming ritual, Haechan had already made a solid impression on everyone. With the seniors pushing all the first-year students to drink, Haechan had gotten into a bit of trouble for refusing to drink something they’ve poured out for him, as the older guys go around with mindless gossiping, stating how much of a prune he is and that he’s just ruining the fun, all while they stick around girls who are out of their league.

Later that day, Haechan had made a few drinks for the few who he had angered as a form of apology. With his head bowed in tow, he honestly looked like he was asking for their forgiveness.

“It was careless of me to disrespect my seniors so blatantly like this, could you accept these as an apology? I’ll even pour out the soju for you.” With the bottle in his hand, his other hand cradled his elbow, showing respect as he barely met their eyes. The seniors were ready to make him work for it more, but with the way he was bowed in front of everyone in the hall, it looked like they were picking on the poor boy.

“Ah, Haechan, you don’t have to do that.” One of them chuckles. “We were just joking aroun—”

“Please! Just accept this, I don’t know how I can last the rest of my uni years knowing that I had disrespected you on my very first day.” He shouts in his high-pitched voice, making the already quiet hall of murmuring people all go silent. The seniors were now all flustered, before being ushered to take the cups Haechan had provided, waiting for him to pour them drinks.

From the corner of the table, you were slumped against, you remember two things very vividly that night; one, Naeun was an only child, which we can definitely work with. And two, when Haechan looked up at the second and third years of his major accepting his drinks, his grateful smile was laced with some sort of sinister glint.

As the seniors grumble in embarrassment while Haechan finishes pouring each one of them a drink, they swish their cups around as if it’s wine, delaying drinking from them while Haechan insists on signifying their bond with a toast.

“To my seniors, I hope to perform up to your expectations,” And with the tip of their cups in an imaginary circle, everyone cheered ‘one-shot’ as the seniors down their drinks. Haechan merely sipped his, and you had noticed his lips tilting to one corner, and even in your drunk state, you knew something was off.

Your suspicions were confirmed when the seniors all started coughing wildly, some clutching the corner of a table or one anothers’ shoulders, seeming like they were coughing their lungs out.

Turns out that Haechan had slipped hot sauce into the drinks, creating a fusion of different burning sensations to travel down their throats as they drink the alcohol in one shot. Instead of being chastised, he was cheered on by the other first years who were either tipsy or barely hanging on. Ever since then, he was known to pull pranks every now and then, most harmless, some embarrassing, but nothing serious and nothing to spite anyone. Like tampering with clocks in the lecture halls, making them chime a tune every ten minutes, or when he had swapped his blonde friend Jeno’s shampoo with a firetruck red dye, leaving his neck and the better part of his forehead red from the dye for days on end. The only prank done with motivation was the first one as if it was some sort of initiation in itself.

“Wait, at this lecture? But there’s barely anyone here. Doesn’t Haechan carry out his pranks with a full-blown audience at tow?” Naeun shushes at your words, trying to get you to quiet down with your words, but it was too late. The deed was done as the guy from behind you perks up at your conversation, leaning into your conversation bubble.

You recognise him as Sunwoo, as he quickly shifts his gaze between the two of you. “Haechan’s doing something today? Like, at this lecture?”

“Oh.. well, I wouldn’t say so,”

“Naeun,” He turns to your friend, and you look at her with doom written on both of your faces. Naeun can’t lie to save her life, most people know that by now, but never really have the balls to test the theory. Until now, of course.

“Naeun, is Haechan gonna pull a prank today?”

“Naeun, remember what we talked about restraint.” You tried to keep her attention on you, knowing that if her gaze wandered to the boy, she would break.

“Come on Naeun,” Sunwoo whines now, stomping his feet, making you look at him with disgust written on your face at his sudden burst of cuteness. “Just say yes or no. Ywes or nwo.”

“Dude, gross,” You shove at his shoulder in an attempt to finally relent. Naeun squeezes her eyes shut.

“Pwetty pwease?”

“Fine! Fuck, oh my god. Yes, he is, Haechan is maybe doing something today.” She leans back into her chair, chest heaving as if she’d run a marathon. “I hated that, please don’t ever do that again.” Sunwoo winks at you two as he suddenly stands straight in his seat.

With hands cupped around his mouth, he shouts out. “Hey everyone! Haechan is pulling a prank today! Tell all your friends to be careful, and to keep their cameras rolling! Remember to post it on the campus’ blog!” And with that, phones chime as people text and call the imminent news. You and Naeun look at each other, defeated.

“At least they don’t know that we spread it?” You try, shoulders now hunched in as Naeun rubs at her temples.

“Oh! Also, it was these two who told me, so you should thank them!” Sunwoo yells one last time as he points at the two of you, with some hoots and cheers now being sent your way. You two shrink into yourselves even more.

“Haneul is never gonna invite me out for bubble tea ever again,”

As the lecture hall fills up to its max capacity, everyone is on the edge of their seat, waiting for something to happen. The star of the show himself is nowhere to be seen, but his friends are huddled in their usual corner, trying their best to smile kindly and repeat on about how they ‘don’t know what Haechan is up to. Can I send him a text to see where he is? Why are you telling me what to do—’. Thankfully Jeno was able to stop Renjun from pouncing anyone, even though they both knew nothing would’ve happened.

The lecturer seems over the moon to have the hall filled as much as it is, excitedly explaining statistics and their significance in the current world. She doesn’t seem to notice that the majority are here for some sort of public performance and not the different ways you can find the probability of whatever it is she’s droning on about. You try your best to nod when she looks towards your general direction.

As the lecture ends, people grow restless with the lack of action in the last two hours. But no one had dared to step out of the hall, much less out of their seats in fear of something happening. But when the lecturer thanks everyone for joining her this week and talks about gratitude, people slump into their chairs, grumbling and huffing about their time being wasted. Everyone starts packing straight away, slowly maneuvering to the exit as they cook up theories about why Haechan had gone so long without a prank, and how the word got spread in the first place. You and Naeun sit static in your chairs, not wanting to attract any attention, alongside Haechan’s friends, who merely go on their phones and twirl their pens.

“Do you think this will come back to bite us in our ass?” You’re careful to whisper this time, shoving your laptop into your bag and Naeun clicks her pens closed. She merely shrugs, “I don’t think they even know our names, so I think we should be fine.” You look at the lecturer, who seems to be skipping her way to the exit now, undoubtedly feeling ecstatic at doing her job. As she opens the door and steps to the hall, you last see her beaming smile before a screech echoes out, making everyone stop in their tracks.

The people who were the closest to her are now looking at the ground where she lies, bags and items now askew across the floor outside of the hall. A few step up and help her get up by grasping her wrists, pulling when she seems to have found their bearings. But their effort ends fruitless, as not only does she stay on the floor, but the two people who had helped her also collapse again on the floor.

“What the fuck…” As people go to help their friends and the lecturer from the floor, the three figures on the floor attempt to skid back into the lecture room instead of out. A guy you recognise as Beomgyu looks out onto the hallway outside the lecture hall, before pressing the tip of his shoe against the floor as if to test something. When he pressed his sole against the floor, he tries shifting left and right before pressing his other foot on the floor, rebalancing himself when he’s tilted a bit to the left. You see him squat down and take a big whiff, face confused as he stands back up, but not for long.

Smiling like a radiating child, his laugh echoes throughout the hall as he pulls on his friend Jeongin’s hand to join him. “The floor is covered with butter!”

At that, the once quiet hall grows loud, as people slowly step onto the floor, while some treat it like a skating rink, gliding and spinning right outside the lecture hall.

“The whole floor with butter? When did he have the time to do that?” You question as you now stand with your bag slung over your shoulder. Jeno, who was walking past you with Renjun, turns back to you. “He did it while the lecture was going on. If you can’t handle skidding on the floor, you might wanna use the other door,” And with a blinding smile, he turns back around and heads out the alternative door.

Naeun clutched at your bicep. “Did he talk to us right now? Like, look at us in the eye and speak words?”

You nod your head. “I think you can put your delusional days to an end. He totally likes you,” She smacks your hand as you tease her, but huddles closer nevertheless.

“I am, for once, thankful that you just speak words without thinking,”

You’re tugging at the waist of your skirt as Naeun pulls you by your locked elbows, shoes clicking towards the direction of the club. The Beehive club is known to harbour students of all majors from your university, as it is the closest club to the dorms situated just a five-minute walk away from campus, making socialising as easy as it can get. Naeun had urged for you two to go this week, even when you’d rather rest after giving in the assignment that you were slaving over for the past few days. She insisted that it would be worth this time.

“Haechan finally put a cease in his hiatus. That means he will be at the party, which means Jeno will be at the party, which means I need to make my presence known and somehow rizz him by sending him brainwaves.” She had explained while getting ready, as she blows on her false lashes before putting them on. You sulk from your position in bed, slowly trying to hype yourself up to get ready.

“You’re not even gonna talk to him? What’s the point then?” Naeun groans at that.

“You know that if I open my mouth around him I’ll pee myself. Come on, and you deserve to have some fun after all that hard work,” And so half a bottle of soju and an hour later, you find yourself covering one of your ears as you descend the stairs to the Beehive club. You feel the bass of the song travel up your legs as you enter the club, and are offered free drink coupons. It’s when you’re squeezing a lemon slice into your mouth at the bar that you feel a hand tap against your shoulder. You turn to see Haneul, a grin gleaming even in the dark of the club as she squeals and pulls both you and Naeun into a hug.

“My favourite girls, how have you been?” She shouts against the booming music against your ears, to which you give her a thumbs up while Naeun further squeezes herself against Haneul's figure in excitement, the alcohol already making her feel giddier. She pulls you towards the dance floor, muttering about how she has a VIP booth that someone had offered her, and leads the way. Plopping down, Haneul gestures for staff before saying something into his ear, before giving a wink and pointing at the VIP booth you’re settled at.

As you three start conversing, the staff comes back with more drinks, and Haneul encourages you to drink, assuring you that it’s attached to the tab of the booth. “Some guy called Jay has this booth under his name, and he said to put any drinks I wanted on the tab,” You toast your free drinks against one another, the clink of the glasses barely audible as you each take a sip. Haneul shares the anecdotes and stories that have while she was away on vacation, while you and Naeun nod and react accordingly, slipping in your commentaries at the climax of her stories.

“What about you two? Any news recently?” She takes a sip from her straw as she says this, glancing between the two of you excitedly. You and Naeun share a sheepish glance, knowing neither of you has anything as exciting to share.

“Oh come on, what have you been doing these days?”

“Just work,” Naeun frowns as she says this.

“And school,” You follow up.

“You’re right, and school. And then work again,”

“And scho—”

“You guys are miserable,” Haneul scoffs jokingly. She reaches for the bottle of champagne that's sitting in the ice bucket, grabbing two clean glasses. “Here, have more drinks so you can have something exciting to tell me later on,” Although mixing your drinks is never good, the loud music and the flashing lights encourage you to drink more, and your body craves to let loose.

Two glasses and a twenty-minute dance break later, you’re at a corner of the club huddling near each other. Naeun had caught a glimpse of Jeno at the bar, and the alcohol in her system removed all brain-to-mouth filters she had.

“He’s so—” She cups her face as she hiccups. “So fine. So so fine. You know, when we were at our lecture… the other day with Haechan’s …comeback or, fuck, butter floor, he spoke to us,” Her warm eyes fluttered as she thought back to that moment. “Jeno said real words, in real life and my ear heard them. I think he looked at me too, what the fuck?” She grabs her forehead as if taking the information in for the first time before she presses her head against your shoulder.

“She’s not being delusional, he did speak to us,” You nod your head at Haneul as she shoots you a questioning look, with Naeun clinging onto you harder. “He even helped us go out through the back door so we don’t end up all oily with the butter rink.” Naeun snorts, which catches all of you off guard and even herself, her eyes opening and locking onto something in the middle of the dance floor. Her gaze suddenly shifts, and before you know it she’s shoving her way through the crowd and heading towards her target.

“What is she—? Oh no, fuck,” You gasp while Haneul’s mouth hangs open when you both see Naeun heading toward Jeno, who’s dancing with someone at the moment, at full speed.

Haneul looks at you with contemplation. “I mean… it could turn out for the better?” She tries.

“Or she would wake up embarrassed as fuck for the next week or so,” You contemplate with her. Naeun is never the type to be aggressive, even when she's drunk. The most she’s done once was point a finger at you while she was angry and then look away to calm herself down.

But before you could relax back into your corner, you see her reach up for her earrings.

“Okay, fuck. Take this, I’ll be back,” Shoving your drink in Haneul’s hand, you make your way through the crowd and towards Naeun, rushing before she reaches her imminent doom. Jeno and his dancing partner are oblivious to the devil baby that Naeun takes the form of at the moment, which gives you hope that embarrassment can be evaded.

But then she full-body slams into Haechan.

“Woah,” He places his free hand on her shoulder, stopping her from tipping all the way to the right and losing her balance. The cup in his other hand now seems to be empty as its contents drip from both of their bodies, but Naeun is too drunk to notice and Haechan seems to have barely processed anything, seemingly working on autopilot at this point. You catch Naeun by the waist, your other hand going to her arm and slinging it around your shoulder to ground her, inspecting the mess she made. Your expression is apologetic when you make eye contact with Haechan, but he merely purses his lips and gestures putting Naeun’s other arm around himself for more support.

You mouth a ‘thank you’ and heave her body outside of the dance floor and towards the booth Haneul had brought you to earlier. Placing her on the couch, she slumps down and immediately whines when her hand makes contact with her torso on the descent.

“I’m all sticky now…” Her eyes are barely open as she says this, as the bass of the music dwindles in the semi-confines of the booth.

“That makes the two of us,” As Haechan says this, your eyes glance over his figure to see his once white button-up is now tinted blue and sticking to his body, outlining the faintest of lines in the dark of the club. You advert your eyes, not wanting to be caught gawking at him like a man in the Victorian era.

“I’m so sorry, thank you for helping,” You bite your lip momentarily, feeling mortified for ruining his shirt. He merely waves you off, “Don’t worry. I’m not too fussed about it,” His hand is placed at his hip as he says this, but his free hand gestures at your intoxicated friend. “But she seems to be the most bothered out of all of us,”

As if on cue, Naeun whines from her slumped position on the couches, shifting left and right in an attempt to gain some leverage into standing up, only to slip back down. She calls for your name and then squints at Haechan as if trying to remember his.

“Naeun, let’s call it a night, yeah?” You try telling her and you look around to find her bag that she’s left. She protests like a child in a grocery store, huffing as she droops further onto the couch, her cheek now pressed against the cushions.

“No, not until I bag the class clown's hot friend.” Your eyes widen as you feel your cheeks grow hot, trying your best to not glance over at Haechan and somewhat blow Naeun’s cover. You reach over and pat her cheeks lightly in a warning.

“Naeun, you’re blabbering nonsense now. Come on, let’s get going.”

“I’m not! I’m talking about Jeno, not nonsense. Haechan’s super hot friend Jeno,” Your whole body does a reset as she says this, shoulders going stiff while Naeun is oblivious to everything. She opens her eyes and locks them on something behind you, now pointing her finger and smiling giddily.

“Oh! Look, Haechan is here! Hey, do you think if I ask reallyyy nicely he’ll—” Her next words are muffled by your hand and a forced laugh. You cast a look at Haechan to see him trying and failing to contain a smile, as his hand pushes at the corner of his mouth. Upon making eye contact with you he quickly looks away and tries to retain himself from laughing. You sigh as you think about the number of things you’d have to run down to sober Naeun tomorrow about drunk Naeun’s antics right now. Gathering both of your things and shrugging your jacket on your friend, you quickly grab a tissue paper from the table and the eyeliner pen from Naeun’s bag, scribbling down your phone number.

Once Haechan has regained his composure, he’s met with your hand extended towards him holding a napkin. He picks it up from your hand as you wave it a bit impatiently before you quickly go to shoulder your friend up.

“This is my number, send me your details and I’ll cover for your shirt and the drink,” You grunt as you adjust Naeun’s deadweight before she gets the memo and tries standing on her two feet. “Thank you again for helping, uh, please ignore everything she just said. I know it’ll be a good payback prank but—”

“Hey, don’t worry,” Haechan’s chuckle resounds deep even in the loud bass of the club. “I wouldn’t pull anything on her for this.” He comes to Naeun’s opposite side, grabbing her arm and throwing it over his shoulder, heading towards the exit of the club without casting a glance back at you. You fumble with your belongings before quickly catching up, heels clicking as you ascend the stairs, your hands hovering around Naeun’s general direction, in fear that she’ll decide to fling herself off Haechan’s grip in an attempt of brushing her drunkenness off.

Outside of the club, cars whizz by the busy streets as people go for second and third rounds of drinks at this time of the night. Haechan lets Naeun sink into the ground as the latter pulls her weight, and you scramble towards her on the floor.

“Are you gonna hurl?” You ask. She hiccups.

“No,” And that’s all you needed to hear. Standing up, you fish out your phone and decide to call a cab back to your dorms, not wanting to carry your friend in the ten-minute walk back.

“Hey,” Haechan calls and you had momentarily forgotten that he was still here. You look up to see him scratching at his neck, mulling over his next words. “Uh, if you’d like, I didn’t drink anything and— I mean I was going to but then your friend just… What I’m saying is that I can drop you off?” The alcohol swimming in your brain may be playing with you, but you think you see a dust of pink settle into the boy’s cheek and neck.

“I mean, you’re Haneul’s friends, right? I remember you were her roommate at the dorms last year, so if you still live there I can drop you off,” He straightened his shoulder as he said this, now looking more confident about his offer.

You shift your weight, as you now actually get to take a good look at him. Under the club's dark and strobing lights, you could barely see his features far past his white button-up shirt and the light reflecting in his eyes. The street light illuminates the figure in front of you fully, allowing you to see the blue stain in his shirt, but also the tight fit of his jeans and the veins adorning his arms as he pushes up his sleeves at his elbows.

“Oh, thanks. But we should be okay. I’m sorry for the trouble.” You’re a bit flustered as you say this, your eyes flickering from his forearms to his face, not wanting to come off rude but also not being able to contain your monkey-sex brain from forming thoughts. You’re salivating over forearms.

“Okay…wait. Here,” He fishes out his phone from his pocket, typing in the phone number that you handed to him earlier in the night, calling you briefly. “Give me a text when you arrive home or if you need any help with warding off any weirdos.” You feel your stomach warm at his gesture, punching your name into his phone when he gives it to you. When you give it back to him, he mouths your name, before smiling at you.

“Will you be alright going alone?” He says as he helps you bring Naeun to a stand, the latter squeezing her eyes open and trying to regain balance and focus.

“Yup,” You pop, fixing your friend's bag on her shoulder. “She said she wasn’t gonna throw up, which means I have around twenty minutes until she changes her mind. She’s always the most self-aware pre-vom, so the walk back should be okay,” You don’t know why you’re reassuring him from getting kidnapped on your way back, but it feels nice to have someone care for your safety like this. Naeun starts marching away once you face her in the direction of your unit, and with a last wave goodbye, you turn your back to Haechan and the club.

[FRIDAY; 1:26 AM]

you: hii im home now

haechan: thats good

haechan: did she thrw up yet??

you: nah not yet

you: but we’re getting there you: t-minus three secs

haechan: remember to drink water b4 u sleep

you: okayy thank u for today :)

Telling Naeun how she almost embarrassed herself wasn’t as dreadful when she was fighting a hangover. She seemed to be more concerned about her water intake than almost causing a scene with Jeno at the club, complaining about the dryness of her skin.

“I can’t believe you let me go to sleep without telling me to wash my make-up off,” She says this as she adds her expensive serum to her face, grabbing a guasha tool and pressing the cool instrument against her temples, completely disregarding its original use. You continue brushing your teeth next to her against the sink, unable to reply with the foam in your mouth.

“You passed out on the toilet after throwing up, I almost threw up myself trying to bring you to your bed,” You say as you spit out your toothpaste.

“Wait, then how did I not cause a scene?”

“Haechan stopped you,” You reply seamlessly, drying your hands on the hand towel, oblivious to the bewildered stare Naeun throws your way.

“Haechan? Like, Jeno’s friend Haechan? The guy who put red food dye in the campus’ water which made everyone's mouth red?” You remember the initial shock of walking by the water fountain the day he did this, the blood red of the water being a stark contrast to the gloomy winter weather last year.

“Yeah, you even spilled his drink on him and everything.” You giggle at the groan that she lets out, covering her face with her hands.

“Oh my god, he’s gonna now plant a hidden alarm in my room like he did to this other guy in the dorm, or put plastic cockroaches in everything I own. I can’t believe I did that, was his shirt white?”

“Not after you spilt his neon blue drink,” You egg on even more. “But don’t worry, he said he won’t pull anything on you.” At that, her shoulders slump down in relief, as she leans against the doorframe of the bathroom.

“I’m safe,” She cheers, heading to the kitchen like nothing had happened. But being the drama queen that she is, she quickly turns to look back at you with a sharp gasp. “But you aren’t!”

You roll your eyes at her dramatics. “What do you mean? Why would I not be safe?” You disregard her sceptics as you pass by her and into the kitchen, opening the fridge to look for something to eat.

“He said that he wouldn’t do anything to me, but he didn’t say anything about you.” For someone whos nursing a hangover, it’s alarming to see her raise her voice and move as swiftly as she does around you, trying to get you as panicked as she is about her made-up scenario. “He can glitter bomb your bag, or hack your laptop so that whenever you have an assignment it doesn’t go through until a few seconds after it's due, or—” You cut your friend off by stuffing cereal in her mouth, stopping her mid-rant.

“Why would he do that to me? You have to know he only did those to relevant or well-known people, like Somi or Sunghoon. He wouldn’t do some grand prank on someone like me.” You turn to pour your chosen cereal into a bowl. “And if you say anything else, just know I’m ignoring you.”

“But—”

“I’m ignoring you,”

“You can’t do this to m—”

“Ignoring youuuu,”

You don’t hear of or see Haechan until Wednesday, when you’re walking to your second class of the day from the library.

Adjusting your items in your bag, you wouldn’t have noticed his presence at all until he had cleared his throat and brushed his shoulder lightly against yours.

“Oh,” Your eyes widen by reflex, taken aback by his sudden approach before they soften again at the smile adorning his face. “Hi,”

“Hey, you heading to class?” He small talks, and maybe you should spend less time with your roommate, because what should be a simple interaction between you and one of your peers is putting you on edge. Even when you had ignored Naeun’s dramatics about you being dunked on by the boy before you, you can’t deny the jittery feeling coursing through your body, as if your body is gearing in to go into fight-or-flight mode.

Not wanting to come off rude, you hum an agreement and attempt to cast a friendly glance at him, which doesn’t last long as you see him looking back at you.

“Did you, uh, have fun?” You attempt at making small talk, but Haechan looks at you quizically at your lack of context. “At the club, that night. Sorry for interrupting your night and ruining your shirt.” You can’t help but circle back, feeling apologetic when you recall the massive blue stain you had left him in.

“Hey, don’t sweat it. I hated that shirt anyway,” You gape at him as he says this, but quickly close your mouth shut and roll your eyes when you see the teasing glint flashing in his eyes. “And don’t worry about the prank thing too, I wouldn’t think about pranking a pretty girl like you,” You flush momentarily, but remember that you’re talking to ‘the biggest flirt on campus’. Haenul’s words, not yours.

“Good to know,” You egg him on, feeling your shoulders slump down as you grow more relaxed in his company. His jovial manner eases your thoughts of him coming after you, as his presence in front of you proves that he’s merely another student on your campus, trying to have fun and get by with crippling student debt.

Small talking a bit more as you head towards your tutorial, you revel in the drama he tells you that has occurred after you had left the club, remembering to list down the details to recall back to Naeun when you see her later. It’s when you’re at the door of your classroom when Haechan’s phone buzzes in his pocket.

“I have a call to take, but I’ll see you around?” He looks at you with a friendly smile, and it takes everything in you not to melt right there. You can see why some of the girls in your year are fond of him.

Waving him goodbye, you wait until he turns a corner before you go towards your class. You’re just a few minutes late, which explains why you’re met with the nearly closed door of the classroom. Readily, you grip the handle and creak open the door, eyes ready to scan around the room for a vacant spot for you to sit at. But before you could comprehend much, you’re suddenly soaked cold.

Turns out, there was a bucket of water placed on the top of the door, which explains why there was a slight gap instead of the door being closed like it usually is when your tutorial begins. No one in the class had a clue of why the bucket was there or thought to dismantle the bucket, not wanting to mess with the inevitable of something occurring. The door you had entered from wasn’t a main door to the room either, but instead, a back door that barely anyone used, so they were all equally shocked when you had chosen to walk through the obscure entry. Oblivious to the minute signs, you walked right into the classroom and were immediately met with water and a few cubes of ice.

You convey all of this to Naeun when she sees you damper than normal at the campus cafe, where you two usually meet during your free periods; you’re usually dryer than this, so it wasn’t hard for her to realise. She laughs, because is she truly Naeun if she doesn’t laugh at your demise, but then she falls silent, brows now furrowed.

You look at her in question. “Why do you look like you’re a shiver away? I’m the one who’s soaked.”

“Oh my god, Haechan did this to you,” She completely ignores your words, making her point with theatre-level dramatics.

You wave your hand at her, disregarding her theory. “He couldn’t have. He was walking with me when I was headed to class.”

“Exactly!” She exclaims, the hot coffee sloshing around in her cup as she almost jumps out of her seat. You flinch at the handling of the hot drink. “He walked with you to distract you from the fact that he’s gonna pull something. He must’ve set it up before and came around to slow you down. I mean come on,” She slams her cup down on the saucer. “A phone call right when you reach your class? Isn’t that too obvious?” And you hate to admit it, but Naeun does have a point. The main topic of your conversation was about him not pulling anything on you, only for you to walk into his trap just a few minutes later.

“Oh my god,” You slouch against the booth seat of the cafe, the information slowly settling in. “But—”

“Why you?”

“Why that prank?”

Now it’s Naeun’s turn to look at you quizically. “What?”

You feel incredulous now, heat building up inside you. “A fucking bucket of water? That’s it? Is that all he could think of; he’s the same person who filled a whole lecture room with ping-pong balls and tied his roommate's bed to the door with rope. Why was my prank so low-effort?” Naeun now realises the anger budding within you, as she looks around the cafe when your voice raises slightly. She splays her hands out in front of you in a lieu to calm you down, but you’re too warped in your fury to acknowledge her attempts.

“Water? Water? With like, four cubes of ice, and that’s it. Is that all I’m worth? He couldn’t put a glitter bomb in every second purse of mine, or change my ex’s contact name to yours, or anything.” You down your drink quickly, feeling too worked up to be cooped in the booth of the cafe. Naeun follows after, quickly gathering her things and putting her laptop and pens in her bag. You would feel bad for cutting your study session short, but she was barely studying, so the guilt dwindles just a bit. The anger overpowers it by a margin.

“Hey, what are you— don’t go and do something stupid.” Naeun tries as she loops her arm with yours.

You sigh when she squeezes your bicep, feeling the heat inside you cool down just a bit. “I’m not gonna do anything. If anything, if I act like it affected me and lash out at him, it would be exactly what he wants.”

“So you’re gonna act like nothing happened?” You nod your head with hesitation.

“Well, something along the lines,”

It is no surprise that Haechan thrives on attention. That’s the sole reason why he continues with these pranks, and it doesn’t take a psychology major to figure this one out. You did think about pulling something back on him, maybe like pantsing him in the middle of campus or putting some hair removal cream in his shampoo so he thinks he’s slowly balding, but even with how embarrassing and risky they are —you don’t want to leave a huge impact on him, just ruffling his feathers a bit, you know he’ll revel in the attention regardless. So you go for the next best thing.

Ignoring him.

It was a good idea when you and Naeun were walking and passed by his group of friends, who exchanged some pleasantries with you, your friend barely holding it together at Jeno’s eye smile. You held eye contact and waved at Renjun and Jeno, but barely spared a glance towards Haechan’s direction, and when you finally did, you just gave him a blank stare.

You think it worked when you saw the corner of his lip slip down from the smile he was sporting, and you almost felt bad for acting so cold to someone who didn’t do anything. Then you remind yourself that he did, in fact, do something. You thought it would be enough to do this just a few more times when you see him in the next few months of the semester, and you barely see him so it shouldn’t be too hard. But it’s like fate has a personal vendetta against you, because ever since that fateful night, you see him everywhere.

You barely remember him coming into the campus library, let alone the quiet corner that you huddle yourself in to get your grind on. So it’s safe to say that you were shocked when you feel a tap on your shoulder only to look up and see Haechan looming over you, a shy smile sporting his face at the prospect of reaching out to you.

“Hey,” He greets, his hand tugging at his earlobe as if shy. He looks at the seat opposite yours, as if wanting to sit there. You feel shame burn inside you when you don’t go to offer the seat, but you attempt to dwindle it when you remind yourself that you had to sit soaked throughout the entire class because participation is mandatory for your grades.

“How was your class the other day,” Your grip on your pen tightens as he says this, and you’re sure that the tilt in the corner of his mouth is to keep himself from laughing at you straight to your face. But you don’t give in, and instead nod your head with your eyebrows slightly raised, as if exasperated.

“It was okay,” You can only keep your replies short instead of ignoring him by keeping silent. His lingering form by your table and your avoidant gaze is already fueling the awkward air surrounding you, but you’re not giving in until he does.

And it seems like he’s not backing out anytime soon. “ Oh, I heard from Haneul that you’re planning on picking up cross-cultural management next session? I took that course last year so if you wanted some notes I can send them to you,” Fuck. How is he so good at this? His words make you think about your initial assumptions, and looking at his face, he does seem genuine about his offer, the tips of his ears now growing pink.

You soften a bit, ready to apologise to him for being overstrung, but then his gaze goes to something behind you, and now he covers his mouth with his palm as if stopping himself from bursting with laughter.

Confused, you turn around to see what was so hilarious for him to shift his demeanour so suddenly, only to be met with his friends, Jeno and Renjun, who go cartoonishly still at your attention. Of course, all of this is a running joke for him; sweetening up to you after the incident just so he can prove that no one can resist him.

Scoffing, you shut your laptop and gather your things, ignoring Haechan’s noise of surprise with your sudden movement, shoving everything in your bag and shouldering it. “I have to head out now, forgot that Naeun wanted to meet me before her class.” You make up an excuse as you look at your phone for the time. Naeun is taking a diligent afternoon nap at this very moment back in your dorm, completely oblivious to the trials you’re facing; but he doesn’t need to know your every move.

You almost slip out a ‘sorry’ as a reflex, but one glance back at the shocked faces of both Haechan and his subordinates brings you back, as you merely give him a tight smile before brushing past him.

“Oka— I’ll see you around!” Your shoulder bunches up at his volume as you hastily make your way out of his presence and the building.

Stepping into the radio broadcasting club room, you greet everyone present, apologising for being late.

“I got caught up on the way,” You take a seat at the table, putting your bag on the ground. Naeun, whos seated next to you, taps repeatedly at your bicep as a greeting, squealing away from you when you attempt to deliver a pinch to her skin.

“Did you get another bucket of water dunked on you?” Your senior Yubin comments, making everyone in the room laugh. You deliver a strained chuckle as Naeun casts a worried glance at you, but you wave her concern away

“Yubin’s just kidding, you’re not late either, we just sent Minseok to pick up the pizza boxes. Then after we’re done eating we can start brainstorming for the university mini carnival event.” Sohee softly informs, looking up from her clipboard to give you a kind smile.

“If anything, Jihoon’s the person we have to chastise. He texted saying he’ll be here in five minutes fifteen minutes ago.” Juyeon huffs at his phone screen.

As if on cue, the door opens and in comes Jihoon, but he isn’t alone.

“Sorry for coming in late, but look what I found along the way. Isn’t he so cute?” He coos at Haechan who stands beside him, looking at his friend incredulously, mockingly raising his hand. Ignoring Haechan’s disdain for his words, he pinches at his cheeks as he looks towards Yubin and Sohee. “Can we keep him? I always wanted a pet bear,”

Naeun leans in towards you. “He’s more of a cocaine bear than a pet.” You smack at her as she whispers this to you, reminding her of restraint. “You’re not the best at whispering, babe” You tease. “Keep your tone down if you also don’t wanna get dunked on.”

You feel your heart melt when you see look towards Haechan’s direction and see his cheeks turning pink. It seems like you’re not the only one when you hear a chorus of dreamy mutterings echo throughout the room. He swats at Jihoon’s hand before tilting his head lightly at the two leaders of the club. “I wanted to make sure this devil spawn doesn’t make a mess every step he takes. I’ll head out now,” He starts to wave at everyone in the room but sounds of disapproval travel around, and before he knows it Haechan is being dragged by Jihoon and Juyeon to take a seat at the table. In the midst of all the commotion, he looks up and catches your gaze, making you still in your seat, before he’s handled once more to sit down.

“You’re more than welcome to join us,” Yubin beams, and not for long Minseok comes in with a mountain of pizza boxes in his grip.

You see the tip of his ears turn red (something you now notice that you see a lot) as he thanks your seniors. “I’ll be out after I steal your food,” He grins, and it takes much more than your initial willpower to look away.

So far, you were willing to categorise seeing Haechan manifesting everywhere as chance; maybe some sick and twisted form of coincidence. Because before all of this, if you were to get a dollar for every time you had encountered him throughout your whole degree, you would have six, maybe seven dollars if you count that one Zoom call. You had your doubts in the beginning when you saw him at the library and then at your club meeting, that he was doing all of this on purpose; but every other time you would see him in the hallways and lecture halls, you can’t chalk it up to anything but pure coincidence. Haechan is a uni student doing uni-student activities.

It takes you some time to get that idea jammed into your head, and you’ve nearly convinced yourself until today. A relaxing wind-down with one glass of wine turned into you finishing a whole bottle, which amplified your cravings for something sweet. Meeting in the breakfast aisle in your local grocer shouldn’t be something shocking, but you can’t wrap your head around the fact that he, too, decided to purchase cereal at 4 a.m. on a Tuesday.

“Nope,” You immediately put the two boxes of cereal you were choosing back on the shelf clumsily, looking around for the nearest exit in the opposite direction.

“Hey, wait—”

“No, nope. Not at all,” You’re now putting back all the drunk midnight cravings you’ve picked up, shoving them back in their designated areas on the shelf haphazardly as you make your way back out of the place. Your drunk and sleep-deprived brain can’t handle the fact that you’re supposed to interact with Haechan here, out of all the socially acceptable exchanges. You hear a shuffle behind you, but you can’t bring yourself to look back around, focusing entirely on exiting the store without tripping over anything.

Outside, the cold of the night engulfs you as you try to find your bearings, but you’re stopped from lumbering your way back to your dorm by a hand grabbing your arm.

“Y/n, slow down—”

“Stop manifesting yourself into my life,” You groan as you weakly prod away his hand, but his soberness gives him an upper hand, as he merely grabs your hand and holds you by your wrists instead.

“Manifesting? I’m not— actually, that’s not even important. Is there anyone with you tonight?” You groan lightly, still trying to free yourself from his grip. “Naeun?” He prods.

You sigh when you realise he’s not giving up anytime soon. “Naeun is at home, waiting for the Oreo cereals I was gonna impulse buy. Or maybe she’s dreaming about them? I don’t know,” You mumble, hands now lax in his grip, head tilted down. When you don’t hear a reply, you look up and are met with Haechan fishing his phone out of his pocket before pressing the dial button.

“Hi Jen, I’ll meet you at the dorms, it’s…” He glances at your slumped figure, and you’re not sure if the heat in your cheeks is due to the drinks or his attention on you. “A long story. I won’t be long.” Pocketing his phone after ending the call, he lets go of your wrists in favour of clasping his hand into yours, fingers interlocking as he starts heading in the direction of your dorms.

“What are you…” The dark of the night doesn’t help you navigate your way back, so you’re slightly grateful that Haechan is guiding you the way he is.

“Our dorm buildings aren’t far from one another. I can’t let you go home alone in this state,” He answers your question before you could even voice it, looking at you with a soft gaze. He chuckles when you go to look away from him every time he looks at you, squeezing the grip he has on your hand.

The walk is silent for the most part, but Haechan’s brows are furrowed as he thinks about something. Just as you start seeing the entrance of your dorm building, Haechan starts. “Why are you ignoring me?”

The heat in your cheeks disperses momentarily as a cold wave washes over you. The heat comes back when your wide eyes meet his questioning gaze, and you can’t help but squirm in place from being put on the spot.

“That’s cheating,” You slur with a frown. “Ask me when I’m sober. Or when you’re also a bottle of wine in.”

“A whole bottle? Jesus,” He laughs lightly as you groan, tightening his hold on your hand when you try to run away. The pull of his grip catches you off guard, as you stumble forward and closer to his figure. “I hope you can keep a promise, pretty girl.” He teases. Before you can retaliate, he plops you at the entry of your dorm building, swiping the access card to the building poking out of your front pocket and on the reader, before removing his hand from yours and dropping the card back in your possession. You already miss the warmth of his touch, but by the time you look back up, you’re only met with his retreating back.

“Hey, you’re just in time. Did you know that if I did a handstand for almost two minutes straight I can get myself to feel— Why are you empty-handed?” Naeun’s slurs have toned down since you last saw her, but it’s still there. You sigh as you plop yourself face down onto the couch.

“Naeun?” Your voice comes out muffled from the couch cushions, but Naeun hears you regardless, grunting a reply as she shuffles from her position on the floor, probably to find a not-empty bottle of alcohol.

“You know that saying about seducing the things that scare you?” You move your head out from the cushion halfway through your question, wanting to breathe more than to wallow for once.

“Ohhh, I know what you’re talking about,” She hiccups only once. “The fearing what you attract.”

“Attracting your fears.”

“Tomato-tomato. What are you trying to say?”

“I don’t think they were lying about it,” You had only possessed the fear of saying Haechan in the past few weeks, and now you only see him. If only you were that much fearful of money.

“Are you serious?” Naeun straightens her posture quickly. “I’m so scared of puppy play. Like, truly terrified. If someone handsome were to come up to me with a collar around their neck and a leash in their hand I would scream in fear,”

“Okay, I got it the first time.”

“I don’t think you understand, if they were all whiny about how they wanna be my pet and have me stroke the—”

“I get it!”

Although you had came to the epiphany that you’re attracting what you fear (you don’t know if the exaggerated gasp you let out when you walk by a bank or ATM helps, but it’s worth a try) you still can’t get yourself to not think of Haechan when you walk around campus.

But you don’t see him for the entire week after your last drunk interaction with him, and you’re not sure if you should be relieved or scared. So you choose to be both simultaneously, When you step into your corner of the library, your heart beats like you’ve run a marathon, only to be met with the usual vacantness it always was. You then go through your usual tasks until you have to a secondary location, and before you know it you’re nervous for simply wanting to walk to the bathroom.

“Am I going to constantly piss my pants every step I take on campus?” You complained over dinner with Naeun, as she constantly flips the meat on the grill to avoid burning it.

“If you keep thinking about him, then I think the answer is obvious.” She puts one slice on your plate before continuing. “But also maybe take this as a sign? He’s not popping up randomly anymore, which means that your life is like it was before.” Your reflex is to fight back for no other reason than to counteract your friend, but you cut yourself short when you realise she has a point. Ever since that fateful night, your life is now like it was before you had briefly acquainted with the man.

And so you’re not scared anymore. You even forget to double-check your surroundings to see if he’s anywhere in sight. Your life is as peaceful as a student's life can be. Of course, until it isn’t.

The university’s yearly fundraising festival had come around again, and the broadcasting club had decided to run a barbeque booth to raise their supply funds. You were assigned to take orders, while Juyeon and Yubin tended to the skewers. The heat of the booth mingles with the cool wind of the summer night, as you fan yourself with your hand, handling the money given to you as someone makes a new order.

“One order of chicken skewer please,” You raise your voice enough for Juyeon and Yubin to hear over the sizzling noise of the grill, as you find the exact change to give back to the girl ordering. As the next customer shuffles up, you’re too busy writing down the order on a slip of paper to spare them a glance (which, if this was a running business, would not be counted as good customer service).

“Welcome! Would you like to order our rice cake skewer? We have a special combo of two for the price of one,”

“How much is it for a few minutes of your company?” You feel your blood run cold upon hearing his voice. Looking up, you’re met with Haechan’s gaze your eyes locking in an unexpected encounter. Adorning a smile on his face, he looks past you and greets your club members before you can think of what to say.

“Hi Channie, how are you?” Yubin asks as she put a chicken skewer in a cup. Juyeon comes up next to you as he reaches out to pinch Haechan’s cheeks. “Hey there cutie, do you wanna do us a favour and buy everything from our booth?” He flutters his eyelashes just for good measure.

Haechan chuckles as he smacks his friend's hand away. “I’m the wrong person, only Chenle has enough money to do that. But can you do me a favour and let me steal your beloved club member?” You don’t realise that he’s talking about you, until you see his hand gesturing towards your figure as he looks at you. You’re about to protest, your brain already conjuring something up about how you have the heavy duty of being the booth’s designated accountant for the night, but Yubin is always a step ahead.

“Go ahead! Her turn was gonna end soon anyway, Sohee is gonna arrive in a few minutes with more of our supply,” She beams at you as she waves you two off. Before you can say anymore, Juyeon is shoving you out of the way, and you have no other choice but to trudge after him.

You walk side by side in silence, as the noise of the multiple booths being run by different clubs and societies encapsulate you two. You try your best to look at everything but him, even when you feel him stealing glances at your figure.

The silence doesn’t last long, though, as Haechan speaks up after looking around at the booths set up. “It’s quite stuffy with all these booths and people,” Not knowing what to say, you merely glance at him as you nod along. He purses his lips, before trying again.

“You must be feeling pretty warm, running the grill and managing everything at the booth. Jihoon used to complain all the time about how hot it got when he was in charge of these things." It's true you've been avoiding the grill area, so you’re not necessarily overheating, but does he deserve to know?

You hear him lightly huff when you just give a shrug and an ambiguous sound, but he doesn’t back down. “Do you want me to get you something to help you cool? Maybe ice cream or a can of coke.” You're on the verge of giving your umpteenth non-verbal response of the evening, but when you look at the boy walking next to you, you’re met with a glare and a quick snarl of his lips. Faced with his insistence, you decide to speak up.

“I’m okay,” You thought this would appease him, but it seems like anything you could’ve done would eventually send him over the edge. You feel his hand clasp onto your wrist before you’re being dragged away from the congested corridor of booths and into a secluded corner of the campus grounds. Even in the shade of the tree, the little light that slips through the lampost nearby highlights the frustration on Haechan’s face, both arrogance and apprehension flood your senses as you realize that his frustration might be a result of something you've done.

His voice is calm when he speaks, “Okay, did I do something to offend you?” He briefly closes his eyes and mentally counts a few numbers before opening them and looking back at you again, this time with a calmer yet stern expression. But rather than soothing your irritation, this seems to send you over the edge.

“I don’t know, did you?” You know you’re being childish, but that’s the point. You’re not planning on giving in until he apologises. By the look of confusion he’s sporting on his face, it doesn’t seem like it's gonna happen anytime soon.

Admittedly, he does look cute when confused, as his front teeth poke ever so slightly from his slightly gaped mouth, as if he’s about to say something but blanked at the last second. “I did do something?” At your scoff, he gathers himself. “Look, if I did do anything, I didn’t have any bad intentions. I wasn’t trying to hurt you or anything.” But this explanation only sends you over the edge.

Your hands drop from where you had crossed them in front of your chest, as you give Haechan an incredulous look. “No bad intentions? You didn’t want to hurt me? Are you serious? The fact that you even did it is terrible, but such a useless, no-brainer prank?” You’re too angry to notice Haechan’s shift of expression, as his scared grimace falls into another confused furrow of his brows.

“Like, a fucking bucket of water? Even a toddler can pull that. Couldn’t you have done something harder, more creative? Something with more effort, like, I don’t know, expired slime or a skateboard at the door. And I feel even more stupid because I believed you when you said you wouldn’t prank me, I even defended you when Naeun was going off about how I’d be your next target, and I turned out to be a fool, fuck. And for what? A lame bucket of water? Am I only worth that much?” You pause to catch a breather, hand splayed at your waist as you point the other accusingly at Haechan. He widens his eyes slightly, but then a smile falls on his face, and you’re sent spiralling.

“Are you smiling right now?” And at that, he starts laughing. Oh my god, you think, he’s a sociopath.

But Haechan starts laughing even harder, his body falling forward as he leans towards you, clutching your extended finger with his thumb and forefinger, shaking it around before folding over with laughter once more. You’re so, so confused, and now a bit scared that Haechan’s gonna keel over and fall from how hard he’s laughing.

But you don’t need to do such a thing, as he sobers up pretty quickly, straightening himself up and walking closer to you, while his hand now lightly holds your palm in his. You feel heat course through you, from the comfort of his hands holding yours and the sweet laughter that now rings in your head. You feel embarrassed that you bursted like that when you were so determined to make him fall to his knees and ask for your forgiveness. Instead, you’re left blushing like a schoolgirl who confessed with a heartfelt letter.

“Okay, okay. Wait, don’t go sullen now.” You look away, your cheeks growing hotter at being so easily read. Haechan grips onto your hand that was lightly resting on his palm, grabbing your attention.

“I swear on Renjun that I didn’t pull that prank on you. I didn’t even know that happened to you.” Your first instinct is to not believe him, but he’s looking earnestly into your eyes, and the gentle squeeze of his hand in yours makes you melt.

“I don’t know how I can prove it you that it wasn’t me, But I told you I wouldn’t do it and I always stick by my promises. I can maybe help you find who did it?” He offers this while smoothly clasping your hands together, fingers now lacing in yours. The intimate gesture sends a wave of flustered warmth through you, and his chuckle in response only confirms that your emotions are evident.

“Wah,” He sighs bumping his shoulder into yours, “What a relief, I thought you were rejecting me before I could even muster the courage to ask you out.”

“Wait, you—” You’re interrupted as Haechan starts striding forward and back into the busy atmosphere of the campus. “Haechan, slow down.” Your voice gets lost in the throng of the crowd, the bustle of people and echoes of activities happening making it hard for your plea to reach his ears. That, or he's simply ignoring you.

In a blink, you're situated back at your booth, the savoury scent of skewed chicken and rice cake wafting through your nose. Haechan releases your hand, and you both face Sohee, who's manning the cashier with a somewhat indifferent expression. “Hi, I just wanna return her,” Haechan says casually, his gaze shifting between you and Sohee.

Sohee regards the two of you with a blank stare, her expression unreadable. Haechan pats your shoulders twice before he waves the two of you goodbye. Sohee goes back to organising the money gained from tonight’s business, not sparing you another glance. “We have a no return and refund policy, especially with damaged goods.”

“Hey!”

You’re not surprised when you see Naeun in the lecture hall, but you are slightly taken aback when you see her situated just a few seats behind Renjun and Jeno. When you rock up next to her, you let your eyes do the talking as you glance back and forth between her and Jeno’s back, with the latter all the more oblivious to what’s happening.

She smacks at your leg before grabbing you and pulling to sit you down. “Shut up,”

“I didn’t even say anything?”

“Your empty brain echoes really badly when you conjure even a single thought,” You’re too shocked to retort back (how did she think of that so quickly?), so you simply go to unpack your bag. When you sit back from organising your items, your eyes fall on the door of the lecture room, and you’re surprised to see Haechan stride in. Even in the middle of summer, he has a leather jacket swinging from his fingers at his shoulder, sporting a white graphic t-shirt tucked into his black jeans. You’re about to say something to Naeun, maybe have her indulge in your admiration for a bit, only to be met with the same look you’re sporting but just aimed at the back of Jeno’s head.

When Jeno turns his head to greet his friend, Naeun quickly whips her head away, clearing her throat. You poked at her sides teasingly, as she squirms and smacks your hand away.

“I thought you were gonna ‘act chill’ around him?” Naeun huffs at your words.

“I am acting chill, I’m basically freezing.” You raise your brows at her. “There’s nothing chill about staring at the back of hi—”

Naeun smacks at your mouth when Renjun turns his face sideways, but the loud smack of skin garners more attention, as all three of them look back at you. As the other two merely glance briefly before going back, Haechan’s eyes stray longer while the corner of his mouth quirks up. You offer a simple wave and he flashes a smile before turning back around.

Naeun sighs as she releases her hand from your face, but quickly corners you with a glare. “What was that? Why was he smiling at you like that?” You’re grateful that she’s been practising her inner voice, as you know that Naeun from two weeks ago would have had the whole lecture hall aware of her words with how loud she whispers.

“Long story short, he didn’t do it, and I think …” You’re not sure if you should tell Naeun about the possible confession that occurred. Not because you don’t trust your friend but because you’re not even sure if that could be counted as a confession.

“How are you so sure? Maybe he said it to get on your good side,” Naeun stares daggers at the back of Haechan’s head, but her gaze quickly softens when Jeno plays with his hair.

“I don’t know,” You confess, “He said he didn’t do it, and I trust him.” Naeun surveys your expression for a bit with a glare, before nodding her head in acceptance.

“Alright, I trust your trust in him. But if he ever pulls anything…” You pinch your friend's cheek in gratitude. “I know, you’ll have my back.”

“Speaking of back, did you see Jeno’s when he stretched? It’s okay if you haven’t he’ll do it again when we're a third through the lecture.” You slowly pat her shoulders, speechless once more as you sigh and try to tune her out for the rest of the lecture.

read part two here !!

#nct dream fluff #haechan x reader #haechan fluff #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct haechan x reader #haechan scenarios #nct dream smut #haechan smut #nct haechan smut #7dreamnet

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greenorangevioletgrass · 8 months

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give me a minute (1/2) | chef luca

pairing: chef luca x ex-wife!reader word count: 4.7k warnings: established former relationship, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, discussions of separation and divorce, luca and reader has a son, unresolved sexual tension 👀 notes: this fic has been the bane of my existence for the last couple of months or so. it all started as a simple thought of "ooh it would be fun to have a steamy smut with ex!luca" and then it turns into a whole thing with like proper angst and stuff lol. this will be split into two parts, and i think i need encouragement to finish the second part. so please enjoy this first part and tell me what you think! ✨follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notifications to get alerted of my latest fics! ✨

03:49 PM

Everything is fine, you keep telling yourself.

Your soon-to-be ex-husband is flying in from Denmark to finalize the divorce—and even after two years of exhaustive paperwork and mediations and court proceedings, you still don’t know how to feel about this. His visit to New York is meant to be a consolation prize for your six-year-old son Alfie, whose only facetime with his dad lately is through… well, FaceTime. But, given how extraordinarily difficult he’s being—fussing over his breakfast, stalling shower time by a record of 48 minutes, refusing to wear anything you picked out for him… you have an inkling that he might be a little nervous to see his father.

And to make matters worse, it’s raining cats and dogs outside, which delays Luca by two hours now and actively threatens the zoo outing he has planned out for him and Alfie.

So… despite the shitstorm that is happening in your apartment and out, you keep telling yourself that everything is fine.

Because it is. Your home is tidy enough, with all the toys and the mess tucked away in their little cubbies. Your son is dressed up enough; he’s finally put on his pants and shirt, although you missed a button and he won’t let you fix it. The storm is outside, and you’re safely sheltered in. And your relationship with your ex is civil enough, so you feel…

Fine enough.

But the doorman buzzes in, and you can definitely tell the awkwardness in his voice. “Afternoon, Ma’am. I have your husband— I mean, Chef Luca— I mean Mr. Bailey—”

You sigh, not having the energy to let this go on. “Yeah, yeah. Send him up.”

Alfie looks up from his coloring book and practically jumps out of the couch. “My tummy hurts, I’m gonna make a doodie!”

“No running!” You remind him just a second too late, watching him dash over to the bathroom and slamming the door closed. He has a nervous stomach just like you, and as you feel the icky twist in your gut… you can’t help but empathize with his antics today. You would be fucking shit up too, if you only could.

There’s a knock at the door, and you brace yourself as if you’re about to let the storm itself in (although, quite frankly, you probably are). Your hand feels clammy, and you have to wipe it off on your dress before you unlock the door and turn the knob.

“Hey.”

If the storm was a person, you wouldn’t have associated it with the man standing before you. So tall and broad and sturdy. With boyish features and dark blond locks like gentle daylight. It feels like a reach to imagine the seven years of your relationship with him was, indeed, an epic fucking hurricane.

Still.

You can’t help that you miss him.

“Come on in.” You step aside, not really meeting his gaze.

He murmurs a small thanks and apology, a staple combination in Luca’s British vernacular, as he squeezes in through the door with his duffel bag and suitcase.

“I thought you’d dropped these off at your hotel before you came here.”

“I know. I was going to, but…” he puts down his bags close to the jacket closet, like he always does, “But I got held up for ages and traffic was awful and I didn’t want Alfie to wait even longer, so…”

“Right.” You nod absently. “Well. He’s in the bathroom, should be out in a second, so… have a seat. Do you want anything to drink?”

“Um, water’s fine.” He takes his seat on the dining table.

You’re not sure which one is more jarring; the sheer familiarity of this, or the fact that it isn’t anymore. The two of you just hovering in the home you used to share, courteous but distant.

Luca looks around the place, and notices all the differences right away. You kept the glass dining table and two of the chairs, but changed the corner seating into a plush dining bench against the kitchen island. He recognizes Alfie’s favorite stuffed bunny on the couch, although the throw pillows were new. But he takes one look at the wall… and his heart drops.

Gone are any traces of him in the snapshots of your life. The pictures are all of you and Alfie—eating ice cream in the park, grinning and showing his first lost tooth, dressed up on Halloween… He really shouldn’t be surprised or disappointed to find the wedding portrait gone, or the vacation selfie in Italy four years ago. But it hurts quite a bit to find a generic flower portrait replacing the picture of him kissing you on the forehead while Alfie, laying on your chest, merely hours after his birth.

“Yeah, I…” you clear your throat as you hand him the glass of water, “…did some redecorating.”

“It looks good.” He manages a stiff nod, taking a hesitant swig of water.

“You look…” good, you want to say. Because he is. He’s got that tan and the haircut that reminds you of when you first met him years ago. But you can’t say that. So you settle with, “You look well.”

He meets your eyes, really meets your eyes for the first time, and you try to convince yourself the little flutter you feel inside is just your nervous stomach. But he smiles, soft and earnest. “So do you.”

You turn back and open the fridge, welcoming the cold air and how it cools down the burning warmth on your cheeks. Trying not to freak out and decide what you’re getting, so you don’t look like an idiot. Your hand grabs a can of ginger ale, and you sigh in relief.

“How’s Alfie doing in school?”

“He’s doing alright. He’s enjoying his art classes. Math is still a struggle, but Ms. Rashad says his reading is quite advanced for his age.” You relax a little bit into the conversation. The topic of your son resets you a little bit into a somewhat common ground as co-parents. Plain and simple.

“Definitely takes after you. My dyslexic ass could never.”

You smile at that. Small jokes are still there, always a good sign.

“And the, uh…” he lowers his voice, “the anxiety?”

“Comes and goes. He’s been complaining about a stomach ache all day.” You glance towards the bathroom.

He frowns in concern. “Should we go check on him?”

“Sure…” You walk together with Luca following suit, tentatively knocking at the door. “Alfie? Hey bub, how’s your doodie?” It sounds silly, but you find it helps to ask open questions instead of showing your worries outright.

A flush from inside. “There’s no doodie,” he hollers. His voice is murmured from the barrier, and then the running tap water.

You catch the unease in Luca’s features, and you feel a little bad for him. It wouldn’t feel great that your own son is nervous to see you after many months apart. “You wanna come out, then? Your dad’s here.” You try to sound cheerful and upbeat, hoping it’ll hype them both up.

The two-second gap never felt so long. But the door opens, and there he is, standing meekly against the frame. Staring up at you and then at Luca.

Luca’s heart nearly stops as those big doe eyes stare up at him, a spitting image of you. The same softness. The same spark of stubbornness.

The same vulnerable look.

“Hey, bub.”

“Hi.”

“Can I get a hug?”

There’s a brief pause, before he steps forward and throws his arms around his father’s middle. Luca grunts softly, a little surprised by the sheer force Alfie is hugging him, his heart swelling three times over.

“Oh my God, look at you!” He ruffles the boy’s dark hair and kneels down to level with him. His cherubic face is small cupped in his large hand, but not as small as Luca remembered it. “You’re so tall now!”

“Of course. I’m 3 feet and 8 inches tall now. Right, Mommy?” He proudly announces, getting the exact height completely memorized.

“That’s right,” you confirm with a grin.

Luca gasps, a smile blooming on his face. “What?”

Alfie nods. “I’m gonna be as tall as you.”

“No! Don’t grow up so fast!” He playfully cries out.

“Why?”

“Because I won’t get to do this anymore!” Luca seizes his boy into his arms and sweeps him off of his bunny-socked feet, sending Alfie into a fit of hysterical giggles.

The sight makes you chuckle, but the feeling could bring Luca to happy tears. He’s been gone for so long, he’s afraid he’d forget how it feels to hold his son in his arms again. Or worse, that his son would find his presence alien.

But he’s here now. With you and the son you share. Attacking Alfie in tickles and noisy kisses, and letting the boy climb him like monkey bars. And it calms his anxious heart a bit as he reminds himself, everything’s fine.

And as things fall back into place, thunder crashes outside, as if sobering all of you back into reality. Alfie shirks into himself, climbing off of his father’s back. You want to reach out for him so badly, but at the same time, not wanting to interrupt his bonding time with his dad.

“It’s okay, bub. It’s just thunderclap,” Luca soothes emphatically over the sudden silence, bringing Alfie back down to his feet. He smooths his son’s hair gently, comfortingly. “I got you, I got you…”

“Do animals even come out in the rain?” Alfie is back to his withdrawn self, mumbling his words and avoiding Luca’s gaze.

“Some animals actually love playing in the rain,” you chime in helpfully.

Luca keeps his tone cheerful and bright. “Yeah, and you can wear your raincoat and your wellies and I’ll even let you jump in puddles—”

“I don’t wanna do that! I wanna stay home!” He whines, voice raising a little.

“It’s your dad’s time—”

“No!”

“Alfie.” Your tone is firmer now, as he struggles out of his father’s arms and runs to his favorite corner of the couch in the living room, holding his stuffed bunny tight.

But Alfie’s got a point. This is not the kind of rain where you can take a leisurely stroll in. No, this is the kind where you stay huddled inside and hope it doesn’t flood the streets. Luca takes a thoughtful look at Alfie who is sulking and shrinking from the sound of thunder, at the window completely obscured from rain, and then at you… offering an apologetic smile.

So much for quality time with his son.

Luca’s heart sinks a little. He sighs in defeat. “Maybe we should just wait it out…”

“Are you sure? I mean, you flew 9 hours to see him—“

“And I don’t want him to be pissed at me the whole time we’re hanging out,” he reasons. “Besides, I don’t think any Uber would take our order at this time.”

It makes sense, you think. As much as you want this awkward little broken family dance to end, you know that staying in and waiting it out is the best option. Alfie would feel much more comfortable at home than in whatever hotel Luca is staying in. And maybe it’s your protective side talking, but if he ever gets fussy, you’d prefer to be around to deal with it.

“Alright, fine.”

“Yeah? Is that okay with you?”

You shrug. The truth is a little more complicated, but ultimately you settle with a simple, “yes.”

Alfie takes a quick glance at you and Luca emerging from the hallway (you have your mother’s side eye, Luca always said), before returning to fiddling his stuffed bunny’s ears (your father’s neutral look of disapproval, you would say). Like clockwork, Luca takes the seat next to Alfie, while you take the puffy stool in front of him.

“That wasn’t very nice of you to raise your voice at me and your dad like that. I get that you’re nervous about the weather—a bit startled, too— but still. We don’t raise our voices in this household.”

Alfie looks at you and Luca. “I’m sorry.”

Luca nods in acknowledgement. “I’m sorry for being late, buddy.” He gingerly reaches out to touch the boy’s hand. “You’re right, though. It might be best to stay in for a bit.” He motions at the rain hammering down on the window outside.

“I told you. I wanna stay at home.”

“I know. And we are for now. We can…” Luca scans around for something to do. His eyes fall on the coloring book and the open box of color pencils next to it. Bingo! “We can… color some drawings in that book?”

He pouts, not entirely sold on the idea but not outright refusing it either.

“Or, hey, I got some new drawings on me. You can color them, too.” Luca takes off his hoodie and shows off the tattoos on his arms.

God, you forgot about the plethora of trashy tattoos adorning his skin. Even worse, you forgot how it highlights the defined curves of his biceps. Focus, for fuck’s sake! You avert your gaze towards the flower portrait on the wall.

Alfie perks up a little. “This is my old drawing.” His tiny finger pokes at his forearm, on a tattoo of a stick figure climbing up the stairs. “You still have it?”

“Of course. It’s there forever. I’ll always have it.” Luca finds himself choking up at that simple admission. A little token of childhood of his ever-growing love. “Go on, get your crayons.”

Alfie looks at you as if seeking permission, and it makes you want to laugh that he shares the same animated eyebrows as his father.

“Go ahead, bub,” you usher him off lightly, and as soon as he’s out of sight, nods at your ex. “Good save.”

Luca half-smiles. “Thanks. You should chill out. Read a book, take a nap or something. I got him.”

“What, are you trying to kick me out?”

“No, I just—”

Your smile breaks out. “I’m kidding! Go hang out with Alf. I got a Zoom meeting in a few minutes anyway.”

He sighs in relief, chuckling lightly. “You almost got me there…”

You briefly pat his shoulder and for an even briefer moment, his hand is atop yours. The big ‘A’ tattoo on the back of his hand—your son’s initial in a bold Gothic letter— serves as a reminder of what’s past; a whirlwind romance, the wild days of being a family of a merry band of misfits…

Misfits. That’s the biggest takeaway here, you suppose. Your pieces don’t quite fit right. Not without little Alfie gluing you together.

With a final squeeze on Luca’s shoulder, you make your way to your bedroom, making space for Luca’s puzzle pieces to fit with Alfie’s because they don’t fit yours anymore.

***

05:04 PM

By the time your Zoom meeting ends, the pelting rain outside is louder and the chatter inside is nearly inaudible. It feels nice for about ten seconds… until you remember that you have a six-year-old at home and long bouts of silence can be quite… well, suspicious. You pad out into the hallway to check on him.

“Let’s see. You wanna do the sunflower next? What do you think, my love?”

Oh right. For a moment, you forgot that the thirty-year-old other parent is here with him.

Luca has his t-shirt sleeves hiked all the way up, biceps in full display as Alfie colors in a tattoo on the back part of his upper arm. The boy’s tongue sticks out and his eyebrows furrow in focus. It seems like a delicate operation between them, so you linger out of sight for just a while longer.

“Why do you like sunflowers, Dad?”

The two of you have always supported his inquisitive mind, and he missed these kinds of questions most of all. Even if the answers can be a little complicated. “Because of your mum, actually.”

“You like it because Mommy likes it?” Alfie’s little nose crinkles.

Luca chuckles in amusement, sensing the judgment in his son’s tone. Damn you guys for teaching Alfie not to get carried away by trends. “Well… when your mum and I first met, it was winter in Chicago and it’s pretty bleak and gloomy and freezing. But, your mum had a little sunflower by the window—just like that one.” He glances at the little potted sunflower on the windowsill. “She said it’s a reminder to let the sun shine in. I thought it was adorable. We started doing that everywhere we lived and… I don’t know, it reminds me of home.”

“Do you have a sunflower by your window, Dad?”

His heart catches as he realizes the answer. “No, I don’t…”

“Why? You don’t miss home?”

There’s a sharp pang of hurt in hearing that innocent query. The apartment in Copenhagen, as nice as it is, has never been much of a home for Luca. He would get up before the sun is up and return from work late at night—lather, rinse and repeat. On his days off, he would either go on a morning run and spend much of his time outside, or sleep til noon and live on instant ramen and takeout. There’s no time for a sunflower by the window. No room. He made sure of that.

He doesn’t deserve one after leaving his wife and son for fucking Noma.

Luca swallows back the lump in his throat, although the slight waver in his voice gives him away. “I got my sunflower right here, bub. My little piece of home.” He taps on his arm softly as his son finishes up.

Alfie hums, pleased with how the tattoo looks, now filled in with yellow and black and brown crayons. “I think this is my favorite one.”

“Yeah? Not the tabasco?” Luca grins, looking down at his forearm—specifically at the mostly accurate red and green of the hot sauce bottle.

“No…” Alfie taps his chin with his finger thoughtfully. “This one is prettier.”

Luca maneuvers around to look at the sunflower tattoo a little better. “You’re right, it is much prettier. Maybe I should get the colors in permanently, huh?”

The boy’s face lights up. “Can you?”

“Yeah. I think I will. Nice job, my little tattoo artist.” Luca pulls him into a bear hug and kisses the top of Alfie’s head.

You can’t help but chuckle, glad to see them bonding again, lost in your thoughts for a moment.

“Mommy! Dad says I can be a tattoo artist!” Alfie snaps you out of your reverie.

“Is that right?” Your eyebrows shoot up, struggling to maintain a neutral expression while staring at Luca like with all due respect, what the fuck?

He raises his hands in surrender. “I just said he’s my little tattoo artist, that’s all.”

“I colored in all of Dad’s tattoos! Look!” Alfie tugs at his dad’s arm, beaming as he shows off his work.

You step forward, studying the results of the tattoo makeover. Every single tattoo is colored in; some accurately, like the sunflower and tabasco, while others (like the purple fish and chips and blue scotch bonnet)… not so much. You don’t know which one’s more amusing; your son’s artistic style, or your ex’s bashful look as he models the art works on his arms.

“Looks great, bub. Well done!” You ruffle Alfie’s hair, enjoying his improved mood.

“Can I watch Bluey now?”

You purse your lips comically. “I don’t know, bub. Why don’t you look at your checklist on the fridge and see if you can?”

Alfie bounds past you, towards the fridge, and reads the checklist out loud to himself. “Have you… brushed your teeth? Yes. Brushed your hair? Yes…” He flattens his wavy locks with the palm of his hand, continues reading with a lower murmur. “Mommy, I did everything except tidy up my room and play outside for 30 minutes!”

“Okay. Obviously we can’t play outside, so… why don’t you just go clean your room and I’ll let you watch Bluey for a bit?”

Alfie gamely nods and goes into his bedroom, his bunny socks muting his footsteps against the hardwood floor.

Meanwhile, it takes you an extra beat to realize how close you’re standing with Luca without your child between you. He rolls down the sleeves of his black t-shirt sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

“Your meeting went okay?”

“It’s alright.” You look at literally anything but the man in front of you, ultimately stopping at your potted sunflower by the windowsill. “That storm out there, on the other hand…”

“Yeah…”

You take an inconspicuous look at the hallway, making sure your son is out of earshot. “Weather reports say it might last a few more hours.”

Luca huffs, trying not to stress out about the possibility of street floods. Of all the things he missed, New York thunderstorms are not one of them. Still, this shitty weather has granted him some time with his son, at his former home… with his former spouse. And God, does he miss this more than he dreads the weather…

“Want me to make you guys dinner?” He offers earnestly.

You pull back, returning to your normal volume. “Oh. No, you don’t have to—”

“I don’t mind. Really. Might as well, right?”

You hear heavy footsteps from the bedroom and Alfie hollers from the hallway. “I’m all done!”

“Don’t forget your crayons!”

Alfie promptly makes a beeline towards his leftover mess. “Heard, Mommy.” He hurriedly puts his crayons back in the box and rushes into his room to put it away. Returning mere moments later with a newfound spring in his steps. “I’m done for real! Now can I please watch Bluey now?”

“I can cook while he gets his screen time.”

The two boys look at you with their best puppy eyes, and it’s the most disarming thing you’ve seen in a while—and the resemblance between them only makes things worse. You playfully roll your eyes in relent. “Alright, alright. Go ahead. Watch your TV and make your dinner.”

There’s a quiet little yesss from Alfie as Luca low-fives him before they scatter, one to the living room and the other to the kitchen. For a moment, you feel like you were transported back in time. For the first time in over two years, you’re caught between cartoon sounds from the TV and the kitchen alive again. All was well in the household.

“Is he still a picky eater?” Luca mouths the last two words inaudibly.

You raise your eyebrows in confirmation. “All he wants to eat is chicken nuggies.”

“I can do chicken nuggies,” he shrugs easily, rummaging through the freezer and takes out a pack of chicken breasts. “Or some version of that.”

Upon overhearing the key word, Alfie’s head all but whips toward Luca. “We’re having chicken nuggies for dinner?”

“Er, kind of.”

“Can I help?” He perks up from the back of the couch, excitement bubbling over.

Luca smiles apologetically. “Maybe later, my love. Daddy’s gonna be using a big knife…” he says as he checks the blade closely, swiping it with his thumb. “…which is dull, by the way. When was the last time you sharpened this?”

“I… have no idea.” You frown. You don’t even remember sharpening any knives… ever. Meanwhile, Luca simply rummages through the kitchen drawer, which makes you ask, “What are you doing?”

“I’m sharpening it,” he states matter-of-factly, already setting up a makeshift sharpening station which… what?

“Didn’t even know we had that,” you murmur plainly as you watch him work. Taking out a block of whetstone from the drawer (where did that even come from?) and running it under the sink. Laying out a kitchen rag and the stone on top of it.

He chuckles a little, scraping the blade against the stone at an angle, firmly but carefully. “Can’t leave you good Santoku knives without the proper sharpening tools, right?”

“You never taught me how to do it, though.”

“Yes, I have.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“What are you talking about? Back in Chicago, I—”

You burst out laughing. “Oh my God, that was one time forever ago! And you never let me sharpen the knives. You literally always do it.”

He pauses, grinning bashfully. “Fair…”

For the umpteenth time that day, Luca’s heart catches—this time from hearing you laugh. Your warm voice rings so pleasantly in his ears, and the way your face lights up… he almost forgets there’s a storm outside, because he’s got a lovely summer day right here in front of him.

And honestly, what is beautiful sunny Copenhagen compared to this warmth of the two people he loves the most?

“Alright, alright. You want a refresher? Come here.”

You gingerly take the place next to him, arms crossed so as to not invade his space. Neither of you say anything when your shoulders brush against each other. It’s brief, painstakingly so, but eerily familiar. You wouldn’t admit that you want to stay pressed against him a little longer, but… you do.

“Okay, so. You see this bit right here?” His finger runs up the line where the blade flattens into the edge. “Rest the knife on the stone on this angle, start from the heel—near the handle— and just… bring it in,” he demonstrates the inward sliding motion—short and precise and repetitive, “and work your way up to the tip.”

You silently watch him work for a moment, handling the knife. Firm and steady, but not harsh. On the contrary, it’s almost… delicate. You’ve seen many chefs work in your lifetime, but no one is as composed or stoic (or handsome, but that is beside the point) as Luca. It’s quite fascinating.

“And you do this on both sides, right?” You vaguely recall.

“Good memory.” He nods appreciatively. “Some people like to do each side one at a time, back and forth, but I like to do one side, get that burr forming…”

“What’s a burr, sir?”

Luca chuckles at your little Hamilton reference. “So when you work on this side, you’ll feel a nice little rough bit forming on the other side like this.” He slides his thumb from the knife’s spine to the edge and carefully guides your hand through the motion. “Feel that?“

Yes. That should be an easy enough answer, because yes, you do feel the rough edge of the excess metal on the blade. But it’s a bit hard to focus on that when you’re more fixated on the rough calluses of his fingertips instead…

In theory, playing a knife with your almost ex-husband is as bad as a bad idea can get. In practice, though… Having your hand in his again, feeling him so close to you, smelling his perfume…

“That’s the burr. Once you get it on one side, you can switch over to the other side and balance it out.” His voice is lower now. Softer. “And you just… do it over and over again until you’ve worked off the burr and have a smooth and sharp blade.”

Luca switches the knife to your other hand and stands behind you, hoping to God you can’t feel his pounding heart as his chest presses against your back. Gently guiding you through the sharpening motion—the firm, steady, angled scraping of the blade towards you. You swear to God, every pull brings him just a tad closer.

“So you basically have to break the knife a little to fix it?”

“That’s basically it, yeah.”

The storm feels miles away. His hands are still curled against yours. His chest flush against your back. His body heat emanates from within him and shrouds you like your favorite cardigan.

“Listen, I—”

“Thanks… for the refresher.” And with that, you put the knife down on the kitchen rag and pull away.

It takes him an extra second to snap out of it and step back to make way for you as you retreat back into your bedroom. “Yeah, yeah. No problem.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck your fucking life to hell.

***

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hellishjoel · 9 months

Text

dark paradise

5.2k / pairing: dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader

Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4

summary: Your mind is flooded with the memories of your private time with Joel in his woodshed, but he hasn't reached out to you since the bonfire and it's been a week. You go next door to give him a piece of your mind.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, smut, age gap (reader is in her early 20’s, Joel in his 40’s), dbf/neighbor!joel, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, pet names, praise, Joel being a horrible communicator and texter

A/N: I edited this 12+ times and kept changing stuff, so therefore there’s probably mistakes. There’s your one and only warning lol. I’m so excited you guys are eating up the first part (off to the races), I hope the next parts to come keep ya’ll entertained ;)

“Joel-” You clenched your eyes closed. “Outside? Are you serious?” Your scolded whispers were useless. Now that Joel knew you had these needs, he wasn’t going to let you be underserved. He perched one of your legs over his shoulder, the other spread to the side and held open by the warm palm of his hand. You could feel his hot breath on your inner thighs, your walls fluttering as he came closer and closer to your core with each kiss to the exposed skin. “On the tailgate, Joel?” You whimpered, a flash of concern passing over your face. “I know how much you love the truck, baby.” Son of a bitch.

Time seemed to slow after your interaction with Joel in his woodshed. The days following the bonfire were filled with excitement but quickly followed by dread and anxiety. It had been a week.

No text, no calls, no anything.

It wasn’t that serious. It was just Joel. Besides, you had a vibrator to fill the void until he finally decided to reach out to you. Whenever that may be.

Days one and two were the most riveting. Every time you thought of Joel, your heart raced a little faster. You didn’t have a long list of sexual endeavors, so this was still noteworthy. Giving head to your hot forty-year-old neighbor. You wondered what else would come from it. More importantly, when.

Days three and four felt routine and mundane. After picking around your breakfast and staring out the window to Joel’s empty driveway, you would wander to your back porch to read a book on the dock.

You were lucky to catch glimpses of Sarah. Her summer was busy with her friends from school and working a part-time job to afford having fun the summer before her senior year. If she was free, you guys would jump in the lake, sit on the dock together, tell stories, and catch up on everything that was happening in each other’s lives. Well, not everything.

Days five and six were torture. Your vibrator had died from its excessive use, and your fingers weren’t cutting it. You wanted Joel, you needed Joel. You hated to admit it, especially since he hadn’t paid a singular ounce of attention to you since the bonfire last Saturday. Even worse, after deciding to watch Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron with your family during a movie night, you started thinking even the horse was kind of attractive.

Day seven started with your room covered in a pale blue light. You didn’t know what time it was. You weren’t sure how much you slept, but you knew it was very little. This ache was pestering your insides, spreading a rot like an old tree log. Your mind couldn’t fade away from the way Joel felt inside your mouth, the way he filled your throat, and you breathed through the choke. Or the way he finished on your face and your tongue.

Your well-painted memory of it all was already beginning to fade. The details weren’t as crisp, you wanted to remember every detail and hold on to it for as long as possible.

That’s what you were trying to imagine at this ungodly early morning hour. The birds weren’t even chirping outside yet. Your fan slowly circled, trying to cool you off from the sticky Texas heat. You wished your windows weren’t jammed closed.

You heard a thud outside, your body alert as you swiftly sat up and peeked out the window.

Despite it being a Saturday, you watched a tired and slow Joel walk out to his old pickup truck and toss a brown bag lunch inside. Where was he off to so early?

He was wearing his chunky worn-in work boots, splattered with drops of white paint stained into the leather by the steel toe. They were heavy with each step he took on his rickety wooden deck. His faded dark blue jeans sat snug on his hips with his wallet stuffed in the back pocket. His dark hair dashed with silver grays was still damp from his morning shower.

You watched behind foggy glass as he patted down his jeans and mumbled something, swiftly turning on his heel and lightly jogging up his steps before disappearing inside again.

Seeing him after a week of silence bubbled up a hint of anger and annoyance in you. It annoyed you that he looked so good.

Your feet found their way onto cold hardwood before you could waste another second. You would give him a piece of your mind in fuzzy slippers and an oversized rusty-orange Texas Longhorns t-shirt that was so draped over you that it covered your black sleep shorts.

You tiredly navigated your way out of your room quietly, not to wake your parents down the hall. You crossed your arms and hugged them to your body, the early morning chill hitting you once you were outside. You crossed your driveway to his truck, slowing once you reached his perched-down tailgate. Joel had resurged from his house with his truck keys in hand, his steps slowing once you two shared eye contact.

You’d be standing here all day if you expected Joel to speak first.

“Hey.”

He gave you a small nod, his eyes dropping to the shirt that reached the tops of your thighs before they managed their way back up to your face. “Mornin’.”

He closed the gap between his porch steps and his tailgate, setting down his toolbelt and box in the bed. He looked rigid, tight in the shoulders and chest. His close proximity made you step a few paces back, the length of the tailgate separating you from Joel.

You were afraid that if he stood too close, he might feel how badly you wanted him by radiation alone. Especially now, fresh out of the shower, half-wet curls plastered to his forehead, still smelling a little musky with his body wash.

You finally let out an aggravated sigh, hip landing against the tailgate with your arms still crossed.

“So… where are you going this early on a Saturday?” Your face still held a slightly pinched expression though you tried to ask a casual question.

Your curiosity made the left side of his mouth tick up in a lopsided little smirk.

“You wanna tell me the real reason you came over here?” Joel’s tactics were ruthless. It made you feel small, young. But you weren’t, not anymore.

You took in a sharp breath through your nose, eyes on his as your head fell to the side. Finally, the ticking time bomb inside you was counting down. All of your pent-up sexual frustration would be launched at this lumberjack of a man.

“You haven’t texted me.”

“Christ,” he muttered, annoyance passing over his face. “Sun’s not even up yet.”

“Joel.” You pushed.

“Haven’t texted you in a few years.” He said lamely.

“I know, the last thing I have from you is asking me what you think my dad would like for a birthday present.”

“I value your input.” His teasing didn’t make you any less angry. Joel could tell. “I don’t text anyone much besides Sarah. ‘ts the only way I can get ahold of her. Don’t even remember I own a phone half the time.”

“I know.” Your arms crossed tighter around your body. “But I have… needs.” Your voice awkwardly teetered as you evaded his eye contact.

“Needs? Do ya, now?” Joel’s accent came out swinging, his signature smirky-smile working in combination with his cocked up eyebrow. But your face held evidence of your disappointment.

There’s a gentle lull. He should have texted you, and you shouldn’t be here telling him that. He knows. Or maybe you shouldn’t expect so much from a guy like Joel. No wedding ring, brooding, a bull with horns, Joel. Wouldn’t know it was his birthday without Sarah reminding him, Joel. Wouldn’t leave the house if he didn’t have to, Joel. Wouldn’t think to text his horny neighbor next door, Joel.

“Didn’t text me either, sweetheart.” He points out, making your head snap up with wide doe eyes. Shit. He was right.

You didn’t text him, either. You were just sort of expecting it out of him. You hoped he would lead the way, be the guide, reach out wanting more. But that wasn’t Joel. Were you both playing this devilish waiting game? You felt a little silly, your insides wrapping in knots as he surveyed you.

“Well I-”

“You what?”

He was the one grilling into you now. The sun began cresting over the water, bleaching your surroundings in a pale orange. The sun’s glare caused Joel’s eyes to squint slightly to block it out.

You rolled your head to the side and wiggled around as you tried to stand still against his tailgate. Your frustrations were evident as you rubbed your crossed legs together.

This wasn’t the same girl who took a leap of faith in his woodshed, who crossed the boundary between nothing to something, and set you and Joel up for a thrilling summer. You just wanted him to tell you that he wanted it too. To fuck around and do something different. Make this summer worth a damn.

“I didn’t know if you wanted more.” You finally muster up, your voice smaller than you intended, shifty eyes looking over his.

Your statement made him scoff, having to look away from you with a wicked smile. The orange luminescence of the sun warmed his otherwise cold face. He was amused, maybe even a little offended by your statement.

“‘Course I want more.” He strained before pausing, his voice lowering as he took another step closer. “Look at you. Wearin’ my shirt.” He said before he towered over you, making the first point of contact as his hand reached for your hip and pulled you in closer, his fist clutching the worn-in orange t-shirt.

You blinked a few times before looking down where he fisted the material. Shit. He was right again.

Joel had given this to you the last summer you were in Danbury. You and Sarah took a late-night dip in the lake, and she wanted you to sleep over and watch a movie in the basement. You were too lazy to walk back home and change, so Joel gave you a towel and his Longhorns t-shirt.

You easily could have snagged a shirt from Sarah’s closet, but Joel caught you sneaking into his house and dripping water everywhere.

“Just take this. Go dry off. Get warmed up.” A statement laced with annoyance and precaution for his floors, but also attentive care.

It was probably supposed to be just for the night, but you stole it.

You remember that evening vividly. It was the first time you fantasized about Joel. Because the shirt wrapped you up and smelled of his musk and deodorant. It brought on a certain warm fuzziness in your tummy. The shirt had been incorporated so much in your wardrobe these last two years or so, you had forgotten its origin. But it was Joel’s.

And now you were standing here in front of him, his shirt draped over your body like an oversized blanket, showing the curves of your tits. He was fantasizing about you too. Fucking you while wearing his shirt.

There was an undeniable tension that now settled between the two of you, one you surely couldn’t satisfy in his driveway. But that didn’t mean Joel didn’t feel the same way.

His hold on your hip tightened, your lips parting in surprise as his other hand came to your waist and hoisted you up onto the tailgate of his truck.

He was hot, possessive of your body wrapped in his shirt.

“Does it look like I don’t want you?” Joel’s voice was husky, lust filled. You liked getting this sort of reaction out of him. His question caused an ache in you, white heat pooling in the base of your stomach.

Your neediness for him returned. Addicted to his touch, you felt a rush of adrenaline pulse through your body. Joel parted your legs with his body by standing between them, your little fists gripping his large biceps as you tried to regain your bearings. He was so big and burly, wide set shoulders, and a toned chest. You wanted to see him shirtless, examine his body when your time together wasn’t so limited.

“Joel,” his name dripped off your lips with desperation, sweet like honey. He knew how you said his name when you wanted him. It brought back vivid memories of you kneeling in front of him in his woodshed.

Comfort brought you back, knowing it was safe to lean in and start kissing his stubbled neck. You didn’t want to kiss his lips, it still felt too intimate. Joel picked up on your hesitations and silently obeyed.

Once you got to the base of his neck by the collar of his shirt, he let out a surprisingly loud grunt that he tried to jam down into silence but had failed. It caught you off guard, the ways he displayed his pleasure.

You moved back in, eager to duplicate the noise as you paid special attention to his sweet spot. You suckled and glided your teeth over the pinpoint before he forced himself away.

“Keep it below the collar, sweetheart.” His twangy southern drawl was drenched in pleasure.

You smirked as you tugged at the collar gently with your teeth, letting it go and seeing it snap back into place around his tan neck.

His lips found the crook of your jawline, his lips brushing your earlobe as he took it between his teeth and gently nibbled. The sensation struck a nerve down your center, a weak whine echoing against the collar of his shirt as you tried to stay quiet.

The air had warmed up with the sun’s presence, the birds starting to chirp. Your parents could wake up any minute now, being the early risers they were.

You pulled away to gauge his reaction. Joel was looking between you and the horizon carefully. He was debating. You both had so little time.

“Your parents.” He pointed out, his voice ridged with pain as he planted his body between yours, his large palms splayed on your lower back and upper thigh with his fingers ghosting your sleep shorts.

“Work.” You reminded, lightly tugging on the sleeve of his shirt, fingers delicately brushing over the faded Miller Contracting logo on his breast pocket.

You’re compelled to tell him that you need him. Because you do. You need him terribly.

There was a silence, a deliberation of the masses. Stop while you’re ahead, at least you and Joel realized you were on the same page about wanting more. You could let him go, you should let him go. Meet up another time when it was less risky.

“You’re not pulling away.” Your whisper broke his thoughts. Your long lashes fluttered, and your eyes were filled with an eagerness only Joel could satisfy.

He rolled his head around, jaw tight before shaking his head.

“Well, you have needs.” His words were filled with grit, promise. Be quick.

Your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, feeling the planes of his back under your small palms. Both of Joel’s big hands moved under your t-shirt, your lips parting at the feeling of his calloused and rough hands traversing your soft body. He liked how soft you were, you could tell by the way he was delicately exploring you with his lips plastered on your neck.

“Fuck, Joel,” you whisper, grinding your hips against his desperately while one of your hands wound into the damp curls at the base of his neck. He could use a haircut soon, the longer strands winding around your fingers.

His body loomed so much over you that you were arching your spine, your legs desperately wrapping loose around his waist until he had sufficiently guided you onto your back.

Suddenly his presence lifted. You didn’t realize you were seeing stars until he pulled away. He had way too much of an effect on you.

“Don’t have time to fuck you right, pretty girl.” His words made you puff out a desperate sigh.

“But-”

“But you have needs.” He finished for you, your head feverishly nodding. The truck bed had odd ribs, half your back raised up an inch while your other half was on a little slant. It was uncomfortable to lay your head down on. Once Joel was tugging down your sleep shorts, you were quick to forget the discomfort.

A heavy breath left you as Joel tossed your shorts over his tool belt in the truck bed beside you, feeling him pull your body closer to the edge of the truck bed with your legs pried open for him.

Your eyes widened as he sunk to the ground, jaw dropping as your eyes looked to the sky. Holy shit.

“Joel-” You clenched your eyes closed. “Outside? Are you serious?” Your scolded whispers were useless. Now that Joel knew you had these needs, he wasn’t going to let you be underserved.

He perched one of your legs over his shoulder, the other spread to the side and held open by the warm palm of his hand. You could feel his hot breath on your inner thighs, your walls fluttering as he came closer and closer to your core with each kiss to the exposed skin.

“On the tailgate, Joel?” You whimpered, a flash of concern passing over your face.

“I know how much you love the truck, baby.” Son of a bitch.

You wished every second with him right now wasn’t fleeting. You wished he could take his time. But the both of you were so wound up anyway, you were happy just to have him be a guest between your legs.

Joel’s beard stubble tickled your thighs, his warm lips leaving a wet trail to your cotton underwear. Your hands needed to stay busy, one planting itself against one of the ribs of the truck bed and the other fisting his toolbelt that adorned a Carhartt patch.

Joel’s mouth was absent for a moment. He was admiring you. Admiring you with your legs spread for him in his Longhorns shirt that was several sizes too big on you. Heat chased through your body, a sly little smirk on your lips.

“Time is of the essence, Joel.”

He didn’t say anything back. He was staring at the wet spot that had formed through the material of your panties. He hummed, cocky satisfaction filling him to the brim.

Joel placed an excruciatingly soft kiss over your covered mound that had you writhing under him eagerly. His palm planted your thigh down again, feeling you quiver under his hold.

You swallowed a lump down your throat as he pulled your underwear to the side, out of his fucking way. He was seeing you for the first time. It made your chest heave with shakier breaths.

You were glistening for him, wet and gleaming in the sunshine that was starting to dance across the lake and over the truck. Panic flooded your core. He was taking his damn time. You needed him now.

“Joel-” you warned again, but it was too late.

His nose nuzzled against your clit as he flattened his tongue and licked up your center, tasting you properly. Your head dug into the truck bed, a loose moan leaving your parted lips as you closed your eyes and experienced a sweet paradise. His tongue flooded you with his saliva, Joel’s taste buds in galore as he tried you for the first time.

You wondered if he thought about you tasting you like this before. The thought as well as his head between your legs left you humming in appreciation.

Your free hand found its purpose, nestling your fingers into Joel’s hair while his head made gentle nods against your core. His jaw was slack, mouth lodged open as he consumed your sex in its entirety. He didn’t leave one centimeter of you unmarked. He commandeered the landscape like it was his territory, his possession.

Puffs of his name left your mouth, you couldn’t help but be vocal when he made you feel this good.

Joel’s tongue moved now with purpose, precision. He lapped at your entrance, tongue dipping in to feel your tight walls before moving back up and around your swollen clit. He was discovering you, what made you tick, what made you burn with passion and lust.

You held back moans of his name, bringing Joel’s shirt you wore up into your mouth by the collar to bite down onto. Your muffles were concealed by the material for now.

You ground your hips lightly into his face, finding a rhythm you liked. He lets you. He wants you to feel good.

Thumps of your heart pounded against your chest, Joel’s tongue still working perfect circles and swipes at your clit. He pulled away just for a moment to wet his fingers, you watch through hooded eyes. His amber ones flick to yours. Can I?

You nod your head, a silent and desperate yes.

He pursed his lips, face pierced with concentration as he pushed his middle finger into you, your walls welcoming the intrusion with a flood of arousal to allow him deeper. You took in a shaky gasp as he filled you to the knuckle.

“Fuckk-” you said a little too loud, your eyes widening as you covered your mouth and got a well-deserved glare from Joel.

“Can’t hold yourself together, can ya, pretty girl?” His voice was as rough as gravel.

You couldn’t even answer him back, the threads that held together your integrity were slowly plucking loose.

You whimpered like crazy, the shirt swallowing as much of the noise as it could, but the rhythm of his finger and his mouth returning to your clit was sending electric currents through your entire body. You were short-circuiting with Joel’s tongue and fingers playing with your pussy.

Joel’s mouth was warm, the taste of you a new hunger for him. You could hear his jeans scuff against the ground. He was trying to hold himself steady. The realization made you throw your head back, losing the shirt as a vice as you gripped his strands tighter between your knuckles.

“Fuck, Joel--, ohmygod-” you whimpered quietly. The slurping of your cunt was louder than your words. The noise felt so loud in your pounding ear drums, you were worried it would wake the neighbors. The neighbors being your parents and Joel’s daughter.

You were close, even with just one of his fingers inside of you, you were close. You

weren’t sure if it was because of your pent-up sexual tension, your vibrator dying, or your fingers not doing you justice. Maybe it was the fact that it was Joel Miller, but you were holding onto a very thin rope on the verge of snapping.

You pulled your shirt up, releasing his toolbelt as your hand fondled your tits. You could feel him smirk against your thighs as you pinched at your hardened round nipples.

“Such a pretty girl.. Taste so fuckin’ good too.” His words reverberate against your core, the vibrations tickling your clit and making you whine his name. His compliment caused a certain warmth in your chest.

Your head lulled from side to side. He wasn’t letting you know peace once he added a second finger. You had to take a moment to adjust but Joel could feel it, he knew exactly what to do and when. He was so seasoned, experienced, he’d be the first guy to make you cum like this.

Your thigh against his head clenched tighter around his shoulder, keeping him in close against your core as he continued to work his tongue in figure eights around your clit. The soothing circles were creating a harmonious rhythm, your stomach felt like it was going to fall through a trapdoor. You weren’t going to last much longer.

Then he tried something new.

A loud gasp left your lips, your body scraping its way to sit up on your elbows as you watched him nibble and suckle at your clit. Your elbow had nicked his exposed flathead screwdriver in the process, a hiss seething from your mouth. It didn’t matter now. All your mind could focus on was Joel and his hellish tongue.

The suckling at your clit unlocked something undiscovered, your lips parting in fascination before your head fell back and landed on the tops of your shoulders as you looked to the heavens with blurry vision.

A lazy smirk was plastered on your face as he held you in place. You weren’t going anywhere.

Heated pants left your mouth, unable to breathe with the new sensation. The sucking was a distinct sensation, one you liked. You could feel his teeth just lightly grazing your sensitive bud. It made your thighs twitch, and your walls flutter around his still pumping fingers.

Joel’s digits moved gently with their thrust, a gasp of his name flooding the air as he curled them deep, massaging your spongy walls.

You were breathless. You could barely muster up anything besides his name weakly on your lips. You tried to tell him, but it was already too late.

“J-Joel I’m-- I’m cominggg, shit,” you moaned out a little too loud. The whole valley around you echoed, or so it seemed. Joel’s protective grip tightened, your hips convulsing as you came over his tongue. He fucking loved it. He held you there and took you for everything you were worth.

You dropped to your back once more, his fingers still working a slow rhythm that he was insistent on not breaking until your walls stopped fluttering around his knuckles. You were still trying to come down to Earth when he licked you clean, your body twitching every time he flicked his tongue against your throbbing clit on purpose. Fucking asshole.

Your hold on his hair loosens. You can’t help but make a face at the sight of him. Wild curly locks, mouth and chin covered in your slick, slightly flushed cheeks. He looked just as fucked as you did. He looked submissive on his knees, his eyes gleaming as he looked to you.

You watch with obsession as he mindlessly pops his two fingers past his lips, licking them clean of your slick. Such a compliment.

He guided your leg off his shoulder and put your underwear back in its place.

You leaned up on your elbows, still seeing stars. Joel stood up from the ground and brushed any residual dirt and dust off his jeans. He brought his hand up and toyed with his jaw, meaty fingers adding pressure into the masseter muscle as he worked to relieve the tension that had built while going down on you with such dedication.

You weakly sat up, the slotted ribs of his truck bed making indents in the flesh of your arms and thighs. Brands of your filth. Your big shirt fell back into place, your legs swinging lightly as they hung off the truck bed. You glanced at the back of your arm, seeing the scrape from his tools. You’d be fine.

Once you turned straight to face Joel once more, you noticed he was fighting back a little smile about something, his hands on his hips and his knee cocked out.

“What?” You ask, trying to scoot further down the tailgate.

“Nothin’.” He said gruffly, taking you by your hips and lifting you with ease like a ragdoll back onto the ground. His eyes stayed on the floor, your curious gaze following his down to your fluffy slippers.

“Oh.” You muster up, clicking the toes together.

“They’re uh… cute.” He tried to compliment, still with a teasing smirk on his face.

“Shut up. They’re slippers.” You griped, your hand coming up to wipe away the glisten on his chin. He took over, pinching the collar of his shirt between his fingers and bringing it up to wipe away what was left of you. It was oddly attractive.

He reached past his toolbox and belt, handing over your black sleep shorts after feeling over the material for a moment with a swipe of his thumb.

You muster up a thanks, looping one foot in and then the other before you adjusted the band around your waist, the orange t-shirt falling back into place at your thighs.

You couldn’t help but look around, the serenity of the early morning hours would only last so long on the lake. People liked to walk their dogs and jog, you didn’t want anyone reporting gossip.

You turned back to Joel and assessed him. The Texas sun was already making both of your skin swelter, despite it being just past sunrise.

You took in a sharp breath to say something, pursing your lips to keep them shut. Joel looked at you expectantly.

“What?”

You shook your head and shrugged, holding your hands behind your back as you teetered on your feet.

A stern expression passed over his face. “What?” He pressed harder.

You tried to smother a laugh. “Your hair, Joel.”

With an annoyed sigh, Joel amused trying to tousle his curls into place with the assistance of his truck’s driver-side mirror, grumbling a few curse words in response before leaving it be.

You admire him, how handsome he looks so effortlessly. You suddenly became glaringly aware of how you looked right now. No makeup, baggy clothes, could use a shower. Fuck.

“I gotta get goin’, already late.” Joel said as he returned to the tailgate, lifting it with ease and slamming it into place with a few sharp snaps. “I’ll see you. And I’ll message you.”

A small smile ticked at one half of your mouth, nodding. It was a promise. “Please call it texting, Joel.”

He furrowed his brows as he looked over your face. “What difference does it make?”

You snickered and shrugged. “How old you sound.”

Cue the classic Joel Miller eye roll. “Fine. Textin’.”

“How can you be working on a Saturday? That feels illegal.”

This mustered up a short little chortle from Joel. “It’s not technically working, that’s why.”

Your head curiously tilted to the side. “What do you mean?”

Joel shrugged, avoiding your eye contact as he looked past his truck and to the lake.

This was what you had to deal with. Trying to get information out of Joel was an investigative effort, one you didn’t have the energy to dig into at the moment. You finally felt tired after your week of restlessness.

You waved each other off, your face electric as you turned away from Joel and snuck back inside without a peep. As soon as you lay back in bed, feeling your heart thumping after your meet-up with Joel, you heard the door to your parent’s room crack open, and your father’s obnoxious morning yawn followed accordingly. Couldn’t have cut it any closer.

Finally, you felt sleep caressing the edges of your mind. Not a beat after your head hit the pillow, you felt your phone vibrate beside you. With hazy eyes, you turned it over in your palm and squinted at the brightness.

joel miller Anything I can do to get in your good graces again?

You instantly smiled, lazy fingers typing a response.

how about a movie night?

He took a moment to respond. You could see him thinking it over in your mind’s eye.

joel miller Fine.

Your face lit up as you quickly took advantage of him owing you one.

and I can pick the movie?

You could practically feel Joel’s eye roll from a mile away.

joel miller Jesus. Fine. Tomorrow night.

Tomorrow was perfect. Sarah said she would be on a camping trip and your parents would be visiting old school friends in a neighboring town for drinks and dinner.

tomorrow night it is, mr. miller

joel miller Whatever you say sweetheart.

---

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