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sleyu · 9 months

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DATING JAMES POTTER INCLUDES . . .

PAIRING: JAMES POTTER X READER

GENRE: FLUFF & SMUT

If anyone is boyfriend coded, it's James.

James is so desperate for your attention. It’s fully up to you how you would react to the stunts he’d pull and all the nonsense he’d say for you to spare just a mere glance at him, but as soon as you do, he’s not shutting up for days. So much so, you’d find Remus on his hands and knees, begging to give James a chance so that he could finally study in peace.

When James falls in love, the person he is infatuated with and the things in relation to them is the only thing that remains in his mind.

‘Ugh,’ he thinks, ‘Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop is an eye sore.’ But wait, ‘Y/n loves pink. I ought to bring her here next time.’ He thinks.

James, contrary to what he makes himself out to be in front of his friends before meeting you, abandons any sense of his pride and ego when it comes to his girl.

Before falling in love with you, James would scoff and snicker at couples around Hogwarts, at people holding hands, cheeks flushed and eyes starry-eyed, as they’d walk together in Hogsmeade.

Meeting you, falling in love with you—finally making you his—made him love every corny, cheesy aspect of being with someone, completely endeared and left sheepish by their every breath and movement.

During ’ O.W.L.S. or any test for that matter, one could steal a glance at James, only to see him absentmindedly writing down your initials with a heart right beside them on his parchment, looking almost bored at his otherwise empty paper.

Anytime he would find himself stuck on a question, he would sigh happily, putting his quill down and all his focus on you, trying to find you sitting in the exam hall, smiling in amusement at the look of determination on your face.

James being in love means him attempting to look for your face during every quidditch match, upon every win, and during every loss, trying his best to search for your reaction. All he wants is for you to see him in his glory, and no amounts of pats on his back or the cheers he receives from crowds compare to the feeling of your thumb caressing his cheek, or your hands softly patting him on the head, telling him how proud you are of him and how you couldn’t take his eyes off him.

James finds it tough to admit and often struggles to communicate it, but he needs your praise. He needs you to tell him that he did good, that he looks handsome, that he’s brilliant for his latest prank, and that no one else compares to him. Of course, it’s an ego boost for him, but behind his egotistic front is a vulnerable, questioning man who doubts himself often, wanting nothing more than to prove himself to you.

‘Did I do good, love?’ he’d ask, desperation seeping from his honey-like voice, as though he’s unable to wait for your answer, fearing the possibility of your displeasure. ‘Please tell me I did.’

Of course, this manifests in your sex life. James needs praise always and rarely ever incorporates degradation into his lovemaking. He not only tells you how pretty you look for him, how good you feel wrapped around his leaking cock, but also begs you to be vocal, to communicate your pleasure and to tell him that you only belong to him and that no one else could make you feel as good as him.

‘Need you to tell me, baby—fuck! Wanna make you feel good—wanna make my good girl feel good—god.’

‘Tell me—tell me you love me. Say it again—need to hear it again,’

James begs that you leave a kiss mark on his cheek for ‘Good luck,’ right before a quidditch game.

The mandatory uniform for Gryffindor Quidditch matches is James’ jersey. Nothing fuels his pride and his absolute enamour for you more than seeing his last name plastered across your chest and back, proudly and visibly displaying your support for him and only him.

After a big win, you can expect to be fucked in the jersey. James swears he’s never cum faster than he has when he took you from behind and watched as your back arched; the name, ‘Potter,’ printed upon your trembling body as though it was a mark of ownership and loyalty.

Dating James means that he’s treating you as though you’re made of glass. Gentle touches and grips to your waist as the two of you walk in the school corridors, and adoring coos when he sees you slump against him, tired from a long day.

‘My poor angel. Always working so hard, yeah? C’mon, I’ll take care of you.’

He’d rather die than hear you call him by his name. To James, calling him by his name means that you’re treating him as though he were any other person when he isn’t. He needs to hear the affection laced in your words. The soft, gentle mumble of ‘baby, darling, Jamie, honey,’ is all he seeks to hear from you and he practically crumbles against the gentle caress of your hand on his cheek when you refer to him by a pet name.

‘James,’ you sigh, exasperated. Your boyfriend furrows his eyebrows, ‘That’s baby to you!’

During the summer, he’d insist you attach a photo of you with every letter you send him, whether it’s you on vacation or simply in your room, he has to get his fill of you.

He’d spend so much money on little trinkets for you, little items he would pick up from the sneaky Marauders Hogsmeade trips.

Sirius would huff as James pulled him into a stationary shop, ‘James, can we please stop making pit stops? We have 30 minutes left.’ James shook his head, grinning to himself as he picked up several pretty pens he reckons you’d love, ‘Need to supply the missus with gifts, Pads.’

James would be so happy once you begin warming up to the Marauders. His favourite people loving his favourite person? It’s his dream come true and as soon as he sees you bickering with Sirius, having long and insightful discussions with Remus, and casually hanging around Peter, he knows he’s going to be with you for a very, very long time. He’ll make sure of it, he decides then.

James would most certainly carry your bag as he drops you off to class. The first time he attempted in doing it, the two of you were tugging your bag for five minutes, arguing with each other about who would carry the pound of weight on your shoulders. He won, much to your dismay, but a surge of warmth bursts through him the first time you hand your bag over to him mindlessly, without him asking or fighting you for it, as though you had expected him to do it. He treasures these moments in your relationship where he begins to realize that habits between the two of you are beginning to grow and that you both are becoming used to being such an integral part of each other's lives.

He constantly tells you that you’re his everything and that all he does is for you and only you.

Study dates with him are entirely pointless as they never lead to actual studying as James cannot survive five minutes without your undivided attention on him. What do you mean you have to read a textbook for an hour? No periodic breaks to kiss your boyfriend or to coo at him? The only way actual studying will get done is if you promise him a kiss for every correct answer he gets—but we all know where that’s leading to.

He was the first one to say, ‘I love you,’ in the relationship. He would probably say it very quickly as he had known he loved you before the two of you dated, but he’s entirely fine with you wanting to take your time in dissecting your feelings for him.

Until you say it back, with every night and morning kiss, every departure before class, he’d whisper a giddy, ‘I love you, darling,’ to which you’d smile bashfully. Once you do say it back, he’s smiling like an idiot for two weeks straight. He would be almost annoying about it, like a child on Christmas Day. He’d tell you that he loves you repeatedly only to hear you say his four favourite words: ‘I love you too.’

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hwajin · 3 months

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☆°. — ᴋɪss ᴇs

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, fluff

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: hyunjin x afab!reader

𝐰𝐜: 3.4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: oral (afab receiving), very soft, lots of tension

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: something sweet for valentines day!! it's a bit rushed, hope you enjoy it nontheless <33

You lay sprawled across the bed, a book in hand. You had no blanket on you, yet you felt warm, and a heavy weight was pressing you down; Hyunjin was snoring softly against the sensitive crook of your neck, working far better than any weighted blanket you could acquire. His arms, lanky and long, were snaked around you, tightly, holding you so close that you almost didn’t believe that he was sleeping, that he was only pretending so you wouldn’t shoo him off. Not that you ever would, in the first place; you enjoyed being crushed beneath his weight far too much to ever deny his affection and love.

One hand of yours was tangled in his hair, massaging his scalp — you figured it was the very thing which has put him into his semi-deep slumber in the first place, so you only stopped it when necessary, after finishing a page and turning to the next one. Hyunjin's soft grunts of protest never went unnoticed; you huffed in amusement every time your fingers untangled from his messy locks and he sighed out in tired disagreement, before sounding entirely content again the moment your hands found themselves deep in his locks again. It was endearing. You thought you could find eternal happiness right then, right there.

It must have been several minutes, and you were twenty-something pages further in your book when the man stirred, suddenly, without a reason — you were but a statue beneath his body, not moving even an inch to not disturb, to not wake. Yet he stirred, moved around atop your body; his face buried further into your neck, tickling you, his breath hot and intoxicating, burning on your skin. He hummed, arms tightening around you - if possible - and he looked up at you. He was awake, though he didn't look it. His hair was an adorable mess, falling over his eyes and standing to all directions, his eyes barely open and puffy, only a little, and his left cheek wore the imprint of your shirt he had laid on. Endearing. You thought you could find eternal beauty if you as much as looked at him. Even minutes after waking up.

You giggled, softly, your hand still in his hair, still massaging.

"Hi."

He huffed out amusement at that, closing his eyes to bask in your antics at his hair, leaning into your hand, fully at peace. He hummed again, in satisfaction now, in pleasure, and it sent a shock of electricity throughout every fibre of your body. He must have noticed, must have sensed you tensing up, and he smiled - not in malice, simply acknowledging. A shiver ran down your spine then.

"You're still reading, huh?"

Hyunjin's voice sounded quietly through the room, almost melodic, harmonizing with the birdsong outside. It didn't disturb the silence, only added to the atmosphere, leisure, lazy, loving. You nodded at his question, continued massaging the skin in his nape, hummed, then, affirmatively. There was a lot of humming in the room, sighs and huffs instead of words, for words seemed, almost, too heavy; and you understood each other without.

Hyunjin's face buried into your neck again - though not without a plan this time, not to merely rest. He kissed the skin there, softly, patient. Slow. As though dragging out his movements would make the moment last forever. He kissed, open-mouthed kisses, wet kisses, loud kisses, stingy kisses; he couldn't help but bite down on you every other moment, not a lot, enough only to show purest affection, most primal desire.

Your skin was sensitive. You were shivering in his hold, you were shivering at the feeling of the warmth his breath glazed over your neck. He was holding you close, his hands exploring the expanse of your back; though barely noticeable. He was barely even moving his hands, so slow you weren't sure he was at all, until you noticed them laying elsewhere, suddenly - close to your neck, then the small of your back, then wrapping around your shoulders from behind. Always pulling you closer. Always keeping you near, as much as physically possible. You moaned out quietly, softly, barely even audible, but it dizzied him, and Hyunjin bit down against the back of your ear with more fervour than before. You mewled, and you felt him smile against your skin.

When he spoke his next words, his voice was muffled, absorbed almost entirely by your body.

"Read for me. Out loud… please."

You chuckled, not less because the words against your skin sent tickles down the entirety of your body. Hyunjin, despite his wish, stayed buried in your neck; he was nibbling at the lobe of your ear now, kissing there a second after, listening to the way your breath hitched in your throat. He wasn't making a move to separate from you - you tried shoving him off, giggling softly in the process.

"You need to let me... actually read, then"

Your voice was quiet, amused, and followed momentarily by a sigh of pleasure. Hyunjin licked at the goosebumps on your neck, right where it connected to the shoulder; your favourite spot, the most sensitive one. He hummed out in disagreement, didn't as much as raise his head to answer you.

"Just read. While I...", he traced off, kissed your shoulder, touched your waist, squeezed your hips; he looked up at you with puppy eyes, and you nearly lost it all, "...do this..." More kisses to your body; seemingly, he wanted to cover every possible inch of you in traces of his love. If to mark you his, or to remind himself of having you, you weren't sure, but you loved it all the same.

So you read. With his lips on your body, distracting you embarrassingly from the words you tried to make sense of. They didn't quite, and after having read an entire page you lost sight of the plot, entirely. What you never lost sight of, never lost feeling about was Hyunjin's body on your own, his melting into yours. He was consistent, determined, almost. It was pathetic how often your voice trembled and shook when his lips met your body anew; you ought to be used to it already, now that his kisses had reached the expanse of your chest, your collarbones, now that he nibbled right below your shoulders - yet you weren't. You hissed every time his mouth swallowed you whole, every time his wet lips came in contact with an additional inch of your body. You would never get used to it, would never grow tired of him.

You read, and he kissed. Kissed your body away, not leaving a spot of yours undoted. And his hands were sinful. They were wandering, exploring your body while you tried not to lose hold of the book with your own trembling fingers. You tried to keep your composure, tried to be coy when Hyunjin's nimble, cold fingers, far too long for his own good, far too sensual, unclipped the first button of your sleepwear. You stopped reading when he opened the next one - though the man merely looked at you from below his lashes, eyes dark and blown out, urging you on to continue while another kiss met your body. You blinked, once, twice, five times, watching him cover your chest in kisses and love-bites, in spit and hushed confessions. You watched him open another button - at that point your chest lay entirely in the nude, your lack of underwear always delighting the man, and the little bit of stomach Hyunjin had exposed was covered momentarily in his mouth. You watched him, long forgotten the literature in your hands; and then he stopped. Suddenly stopped sucking on your skin, licking and biting on it, easing it with kisses instantly. He stopped moving his hands along your body, too - he looked up at you, expectantly, waiting. You watched him, and he only reciprocated your gaze.

"Read."

Not a command, yet his voice was but a whisper, and it sent thousand shivers to your core. They ran all across your body, the shivers, painting you in goose flesh before they collected right between your legs, right where the man’s body was laying, right where you needed him, right where he was miles away from, seemingly. He wouldn't give in too easily. You knew him - he would drag it out, he would wait on you to continue reading, which, stupidly, you were oh so unable to do, with him all around you, and he wouldn't give you what you craved for before he'd complete his travel on your body, before his lips had tasted every inch of you excessively.

So you continued reading. Shakily, your voice trembling, though you couldn't be embarrassed by it, not when seconds later you felt Hyunjin's lips on your skin again, seemingly satisfied. He had reached your stomach, left wet patches where his mouth met, left love-bites. Left smirks, too; you could feel his amusement on your body whenever your breath hitched in your throat, whenever you restarted a sentence because your voice had trailed off to sighs of frustration. He enjoyed it. He enjoyed that you enjoyed it.

It must have been ages until he had opened all buttons on the flimsy pyjama top you were wearing. You were squirming by then, impatient, intoxicated, needing. Hyunjin lay between your thighs, his face now levelled with your lower tummy, with your core. His arms were snaked around your thighs, holding you close - so close you thought he was scared that you'd slip away if he let go for only a second, but you didn't mind it. You felt his hot breath on your skin, his hotter mouth on the plush of your stomach, the cold breeze against your hardening nipples. Your senses overwhelmed, and Hyunjin wasn't making it easy on you, either; he continued kissing, continued licking, never stopped biting at your body, doting on all his favourite parts, caressing all your favourite spots. He knew you inside and out, he knew the sensitivity of your inner thighs, he knew you enjoyed feeling his breath fawn over it before he gave it a kiss - so he did just that, and he smiled to himself when you mewled out his name. You couldn't keep reading. It was impossible for you to.

"Hyun..."

Your voice was quiet, as though shy; it was needy, too, and if Hyunjin wasn't so focused on basking in your pleasure, he'd blow right then and there. He'd lose his mind over the way your thighs tensed with every kiss he planted there, how your body squirmed when he neared your core, only to pull away again and lick and kiss near your knees. He almost whimpered out in bashful satisfaction at the way you stopped reading, entirely, to call out his name, to let your hands search for his hair, to pull on it slightly when you found it moments later - he lost himself in everything you were, in everything he loved about you.

Though he could keep his composure, just enough. Seemingly mirically, because his body was reacting to your own like flames, igniting one another and impossible to put out. He was as hot as you felt, as intoxicated, just as needing.

"You gotta keep reading, babe."

Another kiss to your inner thighs, an open-mouthed one, a wet one. He was determined to drive you insane.

You whimpered, huffed out in what sounded like amusement. Hyunjin looked up at you, his mouth never breaking contact with your skin. He watched your closed eyes, the way you relished in the feeling of him, the way you were asking for more, silently, wordlessly. The way your body was pleading, the way he could read it without you saying as much as a word about it. He continued kissing, waiting for an answer. He moved slow, giving attention to every inch of your body before he even thought of moving on.

"Feels so good, though."

He trembled at your words. He shivered at the shake of your voice, at the sigh that followed it. He wanted you, he needed you, always. He would never grow sick of it. He would never grow sick of you. You lay there before him, and you wanted him. You lay there so vulnerable for him, and only him. You lay there, and were so honest about your pleasure, pleasure only he could give you; Hyunjin would never grow tired of the way you loved him.

Though, mirically, he continued keeping his composure. Witchcraft, surely, because you were irresistible, having pulled him in entirely, long ago.

"I know... wanna hear you read to me, though."

Your sigh of frustration was music to his ears. The scent of your clothed core, your scent, the feeling of the plush of your thighs, your bare chest, your tortured expression, your fingers in the depth of his hair - it was his death sentence.

"C'mon."

So you continued reading. Because you knew him enough to know he was patient - though, barely, just enough - to not give into you too fast, only to relish in you more. You continued reading, and every further word of yours made him move closer to your core. Shaky words, trembling words, though you made it through one sentence, then through another. And Hyunjin's mouth was closer, and closer, and closer to where you needed him so very urgently.

It must have been ten sentences when his fingers fanned over your waist, the part where your underwear cut into your flesh. He toyed with the elastic band, let it wrap around his fingers, only teased to take it off though never did. Not for another minute, not for another two. He stopped entirely when you stopped reading; only when you picked it up again he continued his ministrations. After a moment or two, Hyunjin pulled down your underwear, though only enough to expose a bit of your pubic bone. You hissed, voice fading almost into nothingness, though you kept reading until a kiss of his met your skin. You hissed again, then, and you were ready to kill him for the past thirty minutes of teasing, and doting, and malice, and loving. You needed him, and you weren’t sure how much longer your patience could hold out.

Hyunjin kissed your thighs. He didn’t leave your core forgotten, though – his mouth sucked onto the plushest part of your inner leg, right below your sex, and his fingers tangled into the waistband of your white, lacen panties, his favourite pair, to take them off you, slowly. If you hadn’t been quick enough, or attentive enough, or far too hyperaware of every of his movement, you wouldn’t have as much as noticed how you, excruciating moments later, lay before him in the nude, almost entirely – only your pyjama top adorning you, though it was barely enough to leave anything to the imagination. And Hyunjin yet took his time, yet didn’t give into you – you weren’t sure how he did it. You were exposed, you were vulnerable; though he acted like you weren’t, for a while longer. His lips painted most frustrating picture on your thighs, travelling to the hollow of your knees – slowly, relishing in your squirming, basking in the way your skin felt against his, as you relished in the way his hands accompanied his lips’ journey along your heated body. You were hot, very much so; Hyunjin ignited you with every touch, with every kiss, with every lick of his sinful tongue – he ignited you, even, with a gaze, eyes so lewd and speaking you didn’t know what was harder; looking straight into them or keeping track of your reading.

And it was when you lost your patience altogether, entirely, finally, that he did, too. It was a mewl, barely a whisper, even; you were surprised Hyunjin heard the weak call of his name in the first place, the plead in your voice, the longing. And it wasn’t a second after that his lips, the ones that had been tracing your body for seeming hours, for and eternity, that had covered you in spit and love and longing and passion, finally connected with your wetness. You were dripping, practically, his tireless teasing having egged you on far more than you were brave to admit. You felt Hyunjin kiss against your clit, lick it right after only to elicit a moan from you – it was embarrassing, how fast you were reacting to him and his body, how very little your composure held; but then again, you were hypersensitive. Had been, ever since he’d opened that first button, ever since a first kiss had fluttered over your body in a manner so loving it pulled at your heart.

Hyunjin’s hands were wrapped around you again, your own – book long forgotten and discarded somewhere next to you – tangled tightly in his hair. With every pull he moaned, groaned deeply into your pussy, and with every of his sound your body jolted, and vibrations set off in the entirety of your body. And he noticed, too, for he never made attempts to quiet down.

The sounds of your pleasure echoed through the room in harmony. The melodies of your names created a symphony, topped off with the lewd noise of his lips against your sex. He was making out with it, was sucking on your clit, kissing it, licking it, sucking it again. He was breathing you in, he was inhaling you entirely; as though wanting to make you his, wanting to annihilate your body with his own, to make one out of two, to melt together for eternity, as though a candle standing too close to the other. And you lost yourself at his passion. You were squirming, screaming, almost, his name, pleads, his name again. You weren’t sure you knew any other words that moment, your own name, even; he was everything you thought of, his tongue now lying flat against your slit and licking in thick stripes the only thing your mind was occupied with. All attempts of keeping your composure were long forgotten; you couldn’t possibly if he made you feel this way, when shocks of fire and electricity shot through your body with every squeeze his hands granted your thighs, and you didn’t want to, in the first place. You didn’t want to keep your composure. You didn’t want to try and not lose yourself in him; because you knew him enough to know he wanted you entirely, in honesty. And you knew him enough to know he lost himself within you all the same.

It wasn’t until two of his fingers teased your entrance, while his tongue flicked across your clit that your body started trembling. As though it was lain in ice suddenly, shaking against your lover who wasn’t giving you a chance to catch your breath. He inserted two digits into your warmth, smiled against your clit at the way you clenched around him momentarily. A soul-ripping whine left your throat then, and your fingers dug into the man’s scalp – it was bound to hurt, though he liked it. He would never not.

And Hyunjin yet moved slow. He didn’t move his fingers, even, for several moments after filling you with them; he kept them still, felt you wiggling around in search of friction. Only after you cried out his name, in obvious frustration, which, anew, made him smile against your sex, his hand started moving. Sensually, patiently, pumping in, then out, then in, then out again – before he curled his long, cold fingers up, and caressed that gooey spot within you. It was too easy, too thoughtless for him. A second nature, almost, the way he knew your body. Almost better than his own.

And you cried out again. You felt Hyunjin pump against your spot, over and over and over until your body felt in flames entirely, until you ignited him with them, until his own desire took over his body, made him feral. He fastened his pace now, sucked a little harsher, cursed a little louder, kissed a little harder. Against your clit, against your heat, against your very vulnerability, the one only he had access to. The one you only ever gifted him – and then you came, when his free hand pulled you closer to his body, tightly around your thigh and groping at your flesh, when the sensitivity tip-toed on the verge of being too much. You came in waves, stormy and urgent, entirely overwhelming. Your body shook, your voice was loud, your eyes were shut so close you saw stars against the darkness; and Hyunjin held you through it. Held you close, held you near to him, as though you’d disappear if he didn’t. As though he almost succeeded in merging your body with his own, in connecting your very souls to one.

And maybe he did. Maybe your body was his own, and maybe his was yours. And maybe your souls had been one and the same the very moment he had first longed for you, had first loved you; had first let his lips dance upon your skin, had first kissed you.

@es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @bintificreads @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus @junebug032 @noellllslut @wolfennracha @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife

#hyunjin smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin imagines #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios

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steddielations · 4 months

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Upstaged | Part 2 | Part 1

It all makes sense.

When Eddie comes back from taking photos with the fans, he looks a little sheepish for the first time. Steve has about a million things to ask, mostly he just wants to laugh about the fucking odds, but he remembers the grace Eddie extended to him about the press ordeal.

Instead, he settles back with his lime soda and a simple question, “So, what kind of music are you into?”

A grateful smile breaks out across Eddie’s face, ecstatic to dive into that with Steve. Their lunch extends into dinner. Steve doesn’t have anywhere to be these days and Eddie practically jumps up and down when the meeting he was in the area for gets canceled. They stay there for a couple more hours, just talking.

Their music taste overlaps at certain points, Eddie talks about how getting his first guitar from the pawn shop pretty much saved him, Steve recounts a little league story that makes Eddie laugh so hard he chokes on his soda.

It’s the most monumentally casual time Steve’s ever had with a new friend in public and he’s not ready for it to end. Even after exchanging numbers and promising to meet up again, they still linger together outside.

“So uh, I remember where I know you from now."

Eddie leans against the side of the building. It’s getting dark, they’re tucked away from any eyes so Steve freely scoots closer to Eddie, waiting for him to explain. He does after a moment, seeming nervous and fiddling with his rings.

“I hate to ask, but my Uncle is huge into baseball, especially you and your general all-around-awesome thing. There weren’t players like you to look up to when he was young, all that. I’ve seen you on his tv so many times, you’re basically part of the family— ah shit, that’s weird, sorry,” he cringes a little, scrunching his nose in a way that makes Steve’s chest clench with affection, “But he’s getting old and like I said earlier, he’s my rock, he raised me and I won’t forgive myself if I don’t at least ask you to come see him sometime.”

The way he rambles is pretty endearing, looking at Steve with a wide-eyed hopeful expression, as if there was even a chance Steve would say no.

He reaches out, gently takes Eddie’s hand to stop his restless fidgeting, “You want me to meet your folks already, hm?”

Eddie lets out an amused scoff, looking down at their hands and back at Steve like he can’t believe it. “You’re not as funny as you think you are, Steve.”

Steve knits his brows, “Why’s that?”

“C’mon man. Y’know how hard it is to find someone who can handle this lifestyle, let alone all the shit that comes with me,” shaking his head a little, Eddie smiles but there’s something aching in it, “Then the nicest looking guy I’ve ever seen comes outta nowhere and saves my life, agrees to go to lunch, happens too know as well as me that life in the limelight ain’t always pretty and turns out to be one of the best people I’ve ever met.”

His fingers thread through Steve’s, holding tight like he’s not sure it’s real. “Even if I never see you again, I’m gonna write songs about you. I’d take you home and keep you right now if I could, but that’s not happening.”

There’s a part of Steve he’s kept shut down for years that comes pumping through his veins then, hot and alive. He realizes that he’s been trying so hard to keep his life as normal as possible that he’s been missing out on actually living it. Now he has this wonderful, crazy, wonderful man spontaneously in front of him and he’s not letting him slip away.

Steve moves in, slowly crowding Eddie against the wall. Eddie’s eyes go a little wide with surprise then darken with desire. Steve watches his face shift through so many emotions, his mouth parting with a soft gasp, wanting this just as badly as Steve.

“Wanna bet?” Steve asks before he crashes into Eddie again.

This time it’s a hot press of lips instead of a full-body collision, but it’s just as breathtaking.

Steve deepens the kiss, thrill prickling all across his skin when Eddie opens up for him right away. Steve licks passed the bright hint of lime on their tongues to get to Eddie. The heady taste of him makes Steve’s world spin, all the desperate noises between them going straight to his head.

“Want you so bad, Eddie, wanna keep you too,” he threads his fingers into all that hair, reveling in the shiver it elicits from Eddie, “God, just wanna have you.”

Eddie chases his lips, “You can, Steve, you can have me— please do.”

Steve loves the sound of that, going in for a longer, more indulgent kiss before pulling back.

“You can’t take me home tonight,” he professes hotly against Eddie’s lips, “My place is closer, you’re coming with me.”

#and at some point eddie admits that he's jerked off to steve's magazine covers before #might keep this going we'll see #steddie #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #rockstar eddie munson #famous eddie munson #famous steve harrington #rueswriting

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subskz · 14 days

Text

multitasking - s.cb

content: sub changbin, dom reader, pegging, lots of teasing, slight dumbification, binnie cries a little, male squirting, praise, handjob, female reader

word count: 4.5k

“One, two, three. One, two, three. Just like that, okay?”

Changbin’s breath came out in shudders, so noisy that you wondered if he could even hear you over them. Judging by his scrunched up nose and furrowed eyebrows coming together to form an adorable look of concentration, you doubted it. He was focused on one thing and one thing only.

“Binnie,” you sang. “Are you listening to me?”

Just to make sure you had his full attention, you brought the steady roll of your hips to a halt, keeping your strap buried inside him, but denying him the friction that had wiped all coherent thoughts from his brain. His body rocked for a few seconds more even after you’d stopped, operating purely off muscle memory. Then, it turned into squirming, hips twisting helplessly in the sheets to try and regain the buildup of pleasure he’d suddenly lost. You watched him wiggle around, half-amused, half-endeared as he finally blinked his hazy eyes open to process what was going on.

“Mm?” he mumbled; drowsy, like he’d been stirred from a dream. “S-sorry? I didn’t…”

His gaze fully refocused to find you smiling down at him. On your end, you could’ve sworn his pupils dilated just a little bit more, painting his irises black and glazing them over. They looked so innocent, you’d never guess what he was really pleading for.

“I said,” you began playfully, running your palms up his twitching thighs just to tease him. They felt especially thick under your touch with all the tension they were holding, you couldn’t resist digging your nails into his flesh, hard enough to leave crescent-shaped indents behind. The tight clench of his muscles was almost as satisfying as the sweet little gasp he let out. “Are you listening to me?”

Changbin swallowed down the saliva that had begun pooling in his mouth, sucking in a deep breath to find his voice again. “O-oh, yeah.” He shifted on the mattress to inch himself closer to you, as if your strap didn’t already have him filled to the near brim. “Yeah, listening. Sorry.”

“What number are we on, baby?”

He paused, doll-like lips curving deep into a pout. It was almost cute enough for you to let him off easy—almost.

“I…I don’t—” he chuckled nervously, eyes flickering to the side. “F-four?” You shook your head. “Five?”

You could tell he was growing restless, even when he was doing his best to behave himself. His dick twitched against his stomach, crying out for you to just forget about the count and start thrusting into him again. All the blood in his system must’ve pooled hot in his abdomen by now, you couldn’t even blame him for not being able to think straight.

“S-sorry, I really can’t remember,” he stuttered, embarrassed. “Again?”

It was the second or third time Changbin had lost track by now, and he once again found himself cursing the second he’d ever let his pride rope him into this tortuous little game you’d proposed. He’d never been one to back down from a challenge, even if it was a challenge that you both knew full well he’d fail miserably at. That, combined with his insatiable need to impress you clouding his better judgment, had him playing right into your hands.

“I can multitask!” he’d protested. “Do you know how much work it takes to be this cute and sexy at the same time?”

“So much work,” you’d agreed solemnly, trying not to crack a smile over the defensive squeak in his voice. “Then this should be no problem for you, right?”

From the moment you’d first bottomed out inside him, Changbin had gotten the sense that he’d already lost.

“I’m trying to help you, baby,” you pouted down at him. His eyes fluttered shut as you dragged your index finger along his plump, wet lips, mesmerized with the cute popping sound they made every time you prodded at them. “If you’re too dumb to count by yourself, just repeat after me.”

“N-no, Binnie’s smart,” he insisted, muffled by your finger. His legs squeezed around your waist like they had a mind of their own, trying to rub against each other and generate some friction. “Not dumb. I can do it, lemme do it.”

“Yeah? Let’s try and make it past three this time.” You gave his cheek an affectionate pat. A shiver ran through his body as your hands glided down to his hips, gripping his soft flesh to stabilize yourself before inching out of him bit by bit.

Immediately, Changbin’s attempt at counting was cut off by his own whine, stretching out for every second the silicone dragged along his walls. Then, you heard it, shaky and breathless as you pushed back inside him.

“O-one.”

His stomach rose sharply under your palms as you pulled out a second time. Before you’d even snapped your hips forward again, he gasped out a “two”, all too eagerly. You giggled, waiting a few extra seconds just to test his patience

“Two,” he repeated with a tinge of desperation. He looked lost, like he was genuinely wondering if he’d already managed to mess up the order somehow.

You felt a tinge of pity; he really was trying his hardest for you. So, you followed through, deciding to take it slow this time so he actually stood a chance in counting your thrusts. His foggy brain was grateful for it, but his body, not so much.

“Th-three—ah. Three. Faster, please?” he barely got the words out in time before he felt that delicious stretch again, coaxing an especially high moan. “F-four.”

You could practically taste the hunger rolling off his skin in warm waves. Every needy noise that grew louder his throat, every jerk of his hips begged you for more, even if he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up with it. His teeth sank into his bottom lip when you pushed back inside of him without missing a beat—faster, just like he’d asked for, and as deep as your position would allow. You dragged your hands up and down his stomach in unison with the slide of your strap; such a simple touch, but enough to disrupt his concentration all over again.

“Fi—” he began. His voice failed him, cracking pitifully as you grabbed his bouncing chest at the very same instant you brushed against his sweet spot, digging your fingers hard into the plush skin. “F…f-fi…fuck.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, throwing his head back against the pillows as his resolve fully crumbled. The sensation of your palms pressing against his nipples was already dizzying enough, but once you took the hardened buds between your fingers and pinched, he was a complete goner. He made no effort to keep counting even when you didn’t stop rocking your hips, instead letting his mouth hang open uselessly, spilling out another long, shameless moan that made goosebumps rise on your skin. Just a few strokes in, and he was already so far gone.

You let him get away with it for a bit longer, taking the time to admire his dark, messy curls sprawled out against the white pillowcase, even fluffier than usual from all his tossing and turning. Everything about him was so soft. His pecs spilled out between your fingers as you pawed at them, his full cheeks were flushed red and his lips were swollen into a cute, puffy ring after how much he’d nibbled on them. It took all your willpower to not give in to the irresistible sight and keep pounding into him until his head really was too empty to think anymore.

“So pretty, Binnie. Wanna keep you like this forever,” you murmured. You could feel his heartbeat pick up over the praise, pulsing faster under your palms. Then, all at once, you forced your hips to stop and snapped him out of his daze yet again. “But a pretty boy like you still needs to listen.”

“M-mmph,” he mewled. His body chased after your touch, protesting the loss before he even fully realized what was going on. “N-no. Sorry, I’m sorry. Don’t stop, please?”

“I only stop when you stop.” Your hum was deceptively sympathetic as you watched him fist the sheets in frustration, biceps bulging and chest heaving. His throat bobbed as you closed his slack jaw and tilted his chin up, brushing your thumb delicately over his tiny scar to urge him to look at you. “What’s got you so distracted, hm? What’s on my baby’s mind?”

He forced his eyes open again, so dark that you could see yourself reflected in them clear as day. They gave you your answer before he even said it.

“You,” he breathed. It was a reply he’d normally be proud of, but with the way you were staring him down from above, he couldn’t stop a sheepish giggle from rising in his throat, lips twitching at their corners and cheeks bunching up.

“Me?” you echoed. “Or this?”

You slid your strap back inside him in one sharp thrust, angling it so that the tip rolled against the roof of his walls and hit his prostate perfectly. He cried out as if on command, high-pitched and sweet. “Ah! Yes, r-right there.”

Even your own rules were becoming less convincing of a reason to deny him when you knew those were the kinds of sounds you’d be missing out on. But you were on a mission, today; teaching Changbin how to multitask, or, toying with his body until he couldn’t take it anymore—whichever came first.

“There’s my answer.” You feigned disappointment, flattening your palm against his stomach and pressing down right around where you guessed the head of your strap had reached inside him. “All you care about is being filled up, huh, baby?”

“N-no, no.” His hand pawed around blindly in the sheets for a moment before he found you, grabbing on to your wrist and pushing your hand harder against the soft pudge of his tummy. You weren’t sure if he’d done it just to gain some kind of stimulation, or because he was just aching to be as close to you as physically possible, but to his credit, he forced himself not to lose his train of thought even as the sensation had his eyes rolling back.

“Binnie’s a good boy. ‘M only like this ‘cause of you. I need you, please.”

He was right; he was such a good boy. He could forget how to count, forget how to close his mouth, forget how to listen, but he’d never ever forget how to say please. That was something you didn’t have to teach him. Still, you didn’t give him what he wanted just yet, instead tracing gentle patterns on his skin, just above where his cock was leaking out tiny drops of precum. It took a few moments for him to connect the dots, but finally, he rasped out the word you were looking for.

“Four…n-no, wait, it was five,” he stammered. “Please, don’t stop, please?”

“Good boy,” you cooed. Grabbing hold of his thighs, you used all your strength to pull your bodies closer together, lifting his legs and settling them around your waist for easier access. A cute, flustered giggle escaped him as he scooted down the mattress, melting into a sigh of pleasure when you were able to nestle your strap even deeper inside him than before.

His fingers sank into the sheets, gripping them so tight that you could see the muscles in his forearms flexing. “S-six,” he gritted out. “M-mm, feels so good. More, please, more.”

The sound of skin on skin began to fill the room as you finally picked up your pace like Changbin had been begging for. You made every stroke count; deep and heavy, pulling out until just the head of your strap was left teasing his entrance, then sliding all the way back inside until your hips smacked against the back of his thighs. The new position immediately took a toll on him, you could tell by the growing lapse in his counting. Every time you left his walls fluttering around nothing, it took a few seconds before he remembered to call out the next number, just so he could feel the relief of you burying the toy inside him again.

“Nine,” he gasped. The building pressure in his core drained his concentration little by little, making for an adorable show of reactions for you the more his self-control slipped. Every pretty sound he made rang out in the thick, hot air around you, unrestrained and heavenly. Your gaze fell from his blissed out face to where his dick laid half-hard against his stomach, bouncing from the impact of your movements. It gave you an idea.

Changbin choked on his next number as you brought your hand to his head, scooping up the tiny beads of precum and curling your fingers around it. You felt him swell in your grip almost instantly, and when you began to pump his cock along with your thrusts, he fully throbbed in your hands with a fresh wave of heat.

“El-elev—ngh,” he slurred out, barely intelligible. “Three…four. No, t-ten.”

“Four? Ten?” you mimicked. “That’s not right, baby. Try again.”

You swirled your thumb around his leaking tip, effectively fizzling out the last of his thoughts. It was hopeless; the strokes of your hand were mixing up with the pump of your strap, muddling his everything together until he couldn’t distinguish between the pleasure. “Six…n-no, ah. Good, so good. I c-can’t—”

“You usually listen so well, Binnie,” you frowned. “What happened to my good boy?”

Changbin bit down on his bottom lip, so hard that you worried his cute little fang might dig deep enough to split the plush skin. You timed your thrusts seamlessly with the rhythm of your hand, sinking down on his cock as you pulled out of him, and gliding back up his length as you bottomed out again.

“Y-your hand,” he whimpered. “It’s confusing me, I can’t…feels too good.”

“Should I stop touching you, then?”

You released him from your grip, letting his dick fall against his stomach to twitch over the loss. His hips surged up in protest, a soft whine spilling out of him and growing even louder when you pulled your strap out of him in one fluid motion, leaving his walls clenching wildly for you.

“No, no,” he groaned, locking his ankles around your waist to try and bring you closer. “Please, ‘m so close. Please.”

Taking the silicone into your hand, you lined it up with his entrance, pressing the tip just hard enough against him to add an exhilarating pressure. His reaction didn’t disappoint; a full-body shudder, rippling through his muscular thighs, making his chest jump and his biceps tighten.

“You want it, baby?” you asked sweetly, circling the head of the toy around his rim.

“Yes, yes, please.” The way he rolled his body was nothing short of sinful, you almost gave in right there. His tiny grunts of frustration only grew the more your strap prodded at his hole, teasing the sensitive nerve-endings without giving him the satisfaction of slipping back inside. “Please, b-been so good. Give it to me, please.”

“I know, baby.” You inched the toy away before he could get any real stimulation out of it, brushing its slick tip against his inner thighs in a playful taunt. “Just tell me where we left off, and I’ll fuck you like a good boy.”

Changbin shot you a look of pure helplessness, eyebrows scrunching in dismay as it dawned on him what you wanted.

“I-I…I don’t remember,” he mumbled, not even trying to muster up a guess before he surrendered. “I got it all mixed up, I can’t—”

“I thought Binnie was smart?”

He squeaked in protest as you pulled your strap completely away with a click of your tongue. “I am! I a-am. Again, please? I’ll try again.”

It wouldn’t make a difference, he knew that as well as you did. But he said it anyway, as a last resort—anything to feel you stretching him out again, anything to hear you whisper honeyed praises into his ear as he fell apart for you.

“You’re hopeless, baby,” you murmured, brushing back his fluffy bangs to reveal his eyes. They were wide as moons, full of desperation and welling up with tears at their corners.

“Please.” The droplets spilled over before he could blink them away. You softened as they trickled down his flushed cheeks, darkening his eyelashes and glazing over his pupils.

“You’re crying?” Gently, you cupped his face to soothe him. You could feel the heat radiating off his skin as you wiped away his stray tears, only for new ones to take their place again. “You want it that bad, angel?”

The wet gleam in his eyes spoke for itself, but still, he managed a tiny nod.

“You look so pretty like this,” you marveled, rubbing the pad of your thumb under his eye to scoop up another bead trailing down his face.

Despite himself, Changbin perked up over your words. “Pretty?” he sniffled.

“Mm.” A mix of lube and tears smeared his skin as you tilted his chin up, looking him straight in his eyes to admire the fresh droplets gathering at their edges. They caught the light like rhinestones, a visual captivating enough for you to give him anything his heart desired in that moment. “Beautiful boy. My pretty little crybaby.”

Changbin’s nose scrunched up, a shy, downturned smile tugging at his lips. He knew there was a condescending hint to your words, but when they were spoken so sweetly, when you called him pretty in that voice—when you called him yours in that voice—he could do nothing but melt.

“Seriously. Don’t you like me too much?” He pawed your hand away in embarrassment, but you didn’t miss how his face lit up, visibly yearning for more compliments, for your approval.

You let out a fond hum. Just like that, you’d found the key to keeping him motivated. He sucked in a sharp breath of surprise as you took hold of your strap, realigning it with his entrance.

“Let’s try again.” You tapped the head of the toy against his rim, just to bask in the way it made him wriggle in the sheets. “Show me how good you are, baby.”

He nodded again, still timid, but revitalized by your encouragement. His lips puckered into a cute little rosebud for you, and with a soft giggle, you took the hint, leaning down to press them against yours. The wet trails on his cheeks cooled your skin as you kissed him, slowly, dragging your lips past the corner of his mouth to kiss away away his tears, too. His shaky sigh fanned out around you, warm and feather-light as you sank back into him, all the way to the hilt of your strap.

“One.”

You rested one hand on the mattress, bringing the other back to his dripping cock. It was still fully hard even after being neglected so long, jerking gratefully in your palm as you began to stroke it again.

“Two. Th—mm—three.”

“That’s my boy,” you praised. “I know you can do it for me.”

You matched the rock of your hips with the glide of your hand, just as you’d been doing before. It immediately took effect on Changbin, slurring his speech and making his face scrunch up. But he kept trying for you.

“Four…ah, please.”

“Good boy. Keep it up, okay?” You rolled your strap against his sweet spot, teasing it repeatedly with the curved silicone tip before pulling out again.

“Five. F-five, again, please.”

You indulged him. “Doing so well for me, Binnie,” you crooned, swiping your thumb over his swollen head and making his hips buck. “My smart boy. My good boy.”

“Mm, mm. Binnie’s smart. Your s-smart boy,” he agreed. He was so simple; spurred on by your doting, even as that familiar, hot coil in his abdomen started nipping at the edges of his mind again. “Your g’boy…ngh. So good.”

More tears trickled from the corners of his eyes as he squeezed them shut, trying to get ahold of his thoughts long enough to get out the next number. You were being so patient with him, so kind to him, he had to do his best for you.

“Six,” he whimpered. A new wave of droplets spilled over, this time, because the pleasure was growing too strong to bear. You picked up your pace as you drank in the addictive sight; his clenching stomach, tear-stained face, his bulging muscles grasping at the sheets. He deserved it when he took it all so well and looked so good doing it.

“Seven, eight—close! I c-can’t—!”

“Almost there, baby. Just a little more,” you encouraged him. “You’re so perfect like this. Don’t you wanna show me how pretty you look when you cum for me?”

His dick stiffened in your hand, both over your words and the way you wrapped your palm around its sticky tip. The squelching noise that each roll of your hand created started to mess with his head again, distracting him from his count.

“Eight…e-eight—ah, please. Please, please, please. ‘M gonna—”

“C’mon Binnie, you’re so close. Don’t give up now.”

“Ten, n-no, nine? Nine—?”

He clenched his jaw, hips surging up and walls tightening around your strap like he was afraid you might pull out at any moment. It was useless. No matter how desperately he tried to concentrate, the pressure in his stomach consumed everything else, emptying his mind a little more each time you filled him up. “S-sorry, ‘m sorry. It’s so good, t-too good.”

“I know, baby,” you purred, sensing that he’d reached his limit. “It’s okay, let it all out for me.”

Changbin’s words melted into moans again as you thrust into him with more force, giving him no chance to brace himself for each dizzying stroke, let alone keep track of them anymore. He wasn’t sure if it was because of how tortuously long the buildup to his climax had been, but the sensation creeping up on him felt more intense than usual, like a dam of water waiting to break. Everything felt amplified—the drag of the silicone along his ridges, the sensitivity of his nerve-endings at every point of contact, the dancing of your fingers around his cock—it was all dialed up to a hundred.

You thumbed at his leaking slit, unprepared for just how powerful of a reaction it’d elicit from him. He stiffened beneath you as a jolt of pleasure shot straight to his core, breaking the dam loose all at once.

Changbin’s broken sob sent a shiver down your spine. He arched his back off the mattress as his orgasm racked his body, spurting his release against the pad of your thumb. You stopped rocking your hips to admire him, completely taken by the sight unfolding before you. His cock pulsed in your hand with every wave of pleasure that passed through him, spraying out more cum than you’d ever seen before. It was noticeably different from the sticky white ropes you were used to—watery and messy. The streams splattered against his contracting stomach, glazing his skin with a translucent layer of fluid and coating your hand in the process.

He was panting by the time the last few drops of his release spilled from his aching head. Even as it dribbled down his hips and sank into the sheets underneath him, he didn’t quite understand what had happened, far too preoccupied with the tiny aftershocks rippling through his body.

Your fingers uncurled from his dick, letting it fall limply against his ruined stomach. He flinched as you ran your hand over his soft, soaked flesh, still hypersensitive after the climax that had shaken him more intensely than either of you bargained for.

“Look at that, baby,” you marveled, holding up your dripping fingers for him to see. “Your dick’s crying, too.”

Changbin’s eyes fluttered open, shiny with residual teardrops. They widened when he registered why his skin felt so wet, why the bed beneath him felt so sticky and warm, and why his muscles felt deliciously sore, like when he stretched them after a good workout. His cheeks flushed beet red, legs squeezing around your waist in a pointless attempt to cover himself.

“Oh my God. I c-can’t believe—” His face was hot with shame as he buried it into his palms, muffling a noise that sounded something between a giggle and a miserable wail. “I didn’t mean to. W-wait, don’t look, please.”

His babbling trailed off when you stroked his stomach, a gentle touch that masked how fast your heart was still racing over the effect you’d had on his body. You wanted to make it happen again.

“That was intense,” you murmured. “Are you okay, Binnie?”

He couldn’t find the courage in him to reply, too mortified to face you after making such a wreck of himself, too dazed to string a proper sentence together. All he could manage was peeking out shyly between his fingers.

You rested your hands over his to tug them away from his eyes and get a look at him. A soft objection rumbled in his throat, but he let you, anyway, mustering all his self-control to not shove his face in the pillows and hide away from your stare.

“M okay,�� he reassured you quietly.

“Felt good?”

“Good,” he mumbled. “Too good. Wh-what did you do?”

“Ask yourself that, baby,” you drawled. Changbin shivered as you gave his hips a squeeze, an embarrassing mewl slipping past his lips when he clenched around your strap reflexively and realized it was still nestled deep inside him. “Look at the pretty little mess you made for me.”

Changbin let out another low whine. He gave up on maintaining eye contact, turning his head to squish his heated cheeks against the pillow. “Binnie’s shy.”

“You’re so cute.” You ran your fingers through his messy curls to ease his mind, relieved when you felt some of his tension relieve under your touch. “Do you have any idea how hot that was?”

Your words seemed to snap him back to his senses, clearing the fog in his head and reminding him of how he’d even reached this point in the first place. He made a tiny grunt of effort as he scrambled to prop himself up on his unsteady elbows, eyes widening with guilt. When he spoke, his voice was shot, edged with a delicious rasp after how much he’d strained it.

“I…” he giggled nervously. “I-I lost count again.”

You puffed out a light laugh of your own. Even you had completely forgotten about keeping track of your thrusts after watching Changbin fall apart so beautifully for you. Your little experiment may not have worked out, but you were far more interested in the outcome, anyway.

“Guess we’ll just have to keep practicing, yeah? Until we find out how many it takes for you to cum for me like that again.”

#skz smut #sub!skz #sub!changbin #changbin smut #skz x reader #changbin x reader #dom!reader #seo changbin smut

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etherealyoungk · 5 months

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baby it's cold outside - choi seungcheol

pairing: husband!seungcheol x reader

warnings: established relationship, kissing, fluff, terms of endearment

wordcount: 795

a/n: i miss cheol :( also idk this didn't turn out how i imagined but i hope it's okay, it's still cute ig :')

with winter setting it, it had gotten cold, so so cold. the temperatures had plummeted and the air was crisp and chilly, enough to make your hands turn to ice and make you shiver. but you loved the winter, it had a way of slowing down the world, bringing a sense of coziness you craved. the early morning fog had started to set it, making it even colder.

you try to snuggle inside the thick blankets to warm up, snuggling into seungcheol's chest even more. you sigh in contentment when his arms instinctively wrap themselves around your body, holding you close and you fall back asleep into a peaceful slumber.

you're stirred awake by soft fleeting kisses being placed on your cheek, stirring you out of your slumber as your eyes softly flutter open. you gaze up to see seungcheol smiling down at you, his adorable dimple peeking out.

"it's early", you mumble, before wrapping your arms around him and shifting into the blankets even more.

"i have to get ready love", he cooes and you don't respond, closing your eyes as your head lays on his chest. "it's cold", is all you say and you hear him chuckle.

"are you going to let me go to work or no?", he asks. "no", you respond. "no?", he repeats and you can hear the amusement in his voice.

"i'm gonna be late", he adds after a few seconds. "then be late", you grumble out, not willing to move, too stubborn and too comfortable in the warmth to even think about moving and letting him go.

you groan slightly after a few seconds, giving in as you tell him the classic "five more minutes", as you close your eyes. his hand rubs soft circles on your back, which was doing more harm them good really, lulling you back to sleep. and you do fall back asleep because when you wake up, the sunshine has lit up the room and seungcheol isn't next to you anymore. you furrow your brows as you look around, sitting up ever so slightly as you notice his blazer is still hung up on the hanger, indicating he hadn't left yet.

he appears in the room a few seconds later, his hands busy with securing his tie. his eyes light up when they meet yours and he smiles. "good morning love", he says softly.

"you left me to freeze", you tell dramatically as you sit up straighter, a pout evident on your face, which only makes seungcheol laugh lovingly at you. "someone's grumpy today", he adds as he walks over to you and leans down, planting a kiss to the top of your head. "i'll see you later", he adds and you nod.

seungcheol puts on his blazer and steps out of the room. you can hear the shuffle of his feet as he puts on his shoes and you get up, opening the wadrobe and taking his coat out. "cheol wait!", you call out as you grab his coat and walk out of the room, your mismatched socks serving as protection against the cold tile floor. you show him the coat.

"baby it's cold outside, don't want my husband to freeze to death now i do", you tell as you help him put on the coat, running your hands on his shoulders as you straighten the coat, resting your hands on his shoulders.

"have a good day", you tell, meeting his eyes. you quickly glance at the clock to the left and back at him. "aren't you late?", you prompt. "and who's fault is that?", he asks, making you tilt your head, giving him a glare. "my meeting got postponed", he fills in as he softly caresses your cheek with the back of his hand.

seungcheol is about to leave, you even hear the door open and you're in the kitchen making yourself a cup of tea when you hear him call out for you and you see him waiting by the doorway, an arm leaning against the wall for support as he stands tall in front of you.

"aren't you forgetting something love?", he prompts and you furrow your brows. did you forget something?

"forget what?", you ask and he pouts his lips, making a kissy face. you shake your head at his silliness and walk forward till you're in front of him. you lean in, placing a soft kiss on his lips. you pull away but he leans forward, capturing your lips again, pulling you closer as he cups your cheek gently, kissing you sweetly.

"you're so silly", you mumble against his lips and he grins. "only for you", he says without missing a beat, the soft indentation of his dimple showing, making you smile as you kiss him again.

taglist: @daisycheols @naaaaafla @slytherinshua @weird-bookworm @idubiluv @qaramu @n4mj00nvq @joshuaahong @strawberri-uyu @itsveronicaxxx @fallingforshua29 @frankenstein852 @lvlystars @mirxzii

#i will never not mention his dimple bc i love him #guys im down so bad for people with dimples like you don't understand #k labels #caratlibrary #skye's writing #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen drabbles #seventeen x reader #svt fluff #svt scenarios #svt imagines #svt x reader #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol imagines #scoups fluff #scoups imagines #scoups x reader

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charliemwrites · 5 months

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Part 5 (it’s getting out of control) of Charmed Slasher Simon.

Part 4 is here. (Master list coming soon)

(Slight warning for a coworker being a bit of a pushy creep but Simon handles it)

“Riiiiileyyyy.”

Ah, that’s your naughty voice. It means he’s going to want to do awful, terrible things to you out of pure endearment for your cheek.

He turns, arches an eyebrow as you nearly skip up to him. Your hair is shorter.

“New haircut?” he asks as if his fingers aren’t twitching to bury in it and pull your head back.

“Yup! Thought about dyeing it orange, but decided it would clash with my flat.”

He snorts, gives in to the urge to curl a strand around his finger, watches it bounce back into place. You don’t seem to mind, sticking your cute little tongue out at him. (If you’re not careful, he’s going to put you on your knees and have you wrap it around his cock right there.)

“Sensible choice,” he replies, “yellow is more your color.”

You giggle, aren’t bothered by his flat, almost inflectionless tone. “You think?”

“Highlighter yellow. Or maybe banana.”

“Hey, I like bananas!”

He smirks. “Oh yeah? Big ones?”

You shove at him, face going hot. He doesn’t move an inch, not that you were trying hard. Touchy little thing. You remind him of those little birds that flutter around lions, picking and pecking right under their noses, amusing themselves with death.

“Don’t be icky, Riley.”

“Icky.”

“Gross nasty.”

“We’re name calling now?”

“It’s not name calling if it’s true.”

He clicks his tongue, ushers you into the building.

“There a reason for the new hair?” he asks, eyeing it. It’s pretty, don’t get him wrong. But he didn’t know you were getting your hair cut today.

“Fancy office party tonight,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. “My stylist just managed to get me in, but now I’ve gotta rush to get ready.”

“Now who said you could go out?”

“What are you gonna do, stop me?” you laugh, clearly thinking he’s teasing. He’s not. If you looked at his face, you’d know it. But you’re busy fussing with your keys, trying to unlock your door.

“I might.”

“Oh, you stop,” you huff, shaking your head. “It’s not even movie night!”

He’s been coming over once a week to watch a movie and drink with you. One of you picks the movie, the other picks the takeaway. He always chooses a horror movie, likes how your eyes water when you get truly scared. You refuse to watch slashers (haven’t told ‘Riley’ why) but you’ll indulge paranormal ones.

It’s not movie night - those are on Saturdays. This is Friday.

“What if I just kidnap you?” he asks. “Keep you in all weekend?”

You hum as if in thought, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Could I go back to work on Monday?”

“Have to see how I’m feeling on Sunday.”

You giggle. “A tempting offer, but you’ll have to settle for kidnapping me just for Saturday.”

“I don’t think you understand how kidnapping works.”

“I’d be a terrible hostage,” you say. He arches an eyebrow, inviting you to continue. “I have to pee when I’m nervous, I’d be talking their ear off - and! I cry like, so much.”

Oh he knows. He thinks of tears running down your pretty face when he cums.

“Some kidnappers like the crying. Theyre sadists.”

You scrunch your face. “But it’s like… gross crying. Total mess. And I make dying seal noises.”

No, you don’t, not in his experience with you at least. But he’s not going to explain that to you.

“Didn’t you have something to get ready for?” he asks because he’s violently wrestling the urge to make good on his threat.

“Fuck!” You glance at your watch, brows scrunching. “If I’m late, I’m blaming you, Riley Simmons.”

“Oh no.”

You stick your tongue out at him one last time and disappear behind your door.

—

He hears you come back at 11:30, has been waiting up. Pauses when he hears two sets of footsteps, a man’s voice talking to you. A wave of bloodlust nearly drowns his better sense.

You brought someone home from a work event? Did you lie to him and go on a date?

“Well, thanks for walking me to my door, Brandon.”

“Was happy to. Don’t want anyone snatching you up off the street now, do we?” An annoying laugh. Yours sounding a little flat and strained joining him.

“Oh, hey, mind if I come in?” Brandon asks. So casually, as if the yes is expected.

Simon’s hands ball into tight fists.

“Ah, it’s pretty late…”

“Well, that’s what Saturday is for, right?”

Oh. That little roach. Simon’s going to hang him by his own guts.

“I have plans tomorrow, actually.”

Good girl.

“That’s alright,” Brandon persists. “Just one drink. Least you can do since I went out of my way, right?”

“I mean, you didn’t have to, I would have been fine.”

There’s some genuine annoyance in your voice this time. Simon’s proud.

“Nah, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you go home after having drinks?” Brandon chuckles.

“I didn’t have that many - and anyway I’m here now, so…”

“And so am I. At least a little something for my troubles?”

And Simon hears just the slightest, faintest ruffle of clothes.

That’s enough.

Simon yanks his door open and steps out. You’re nearly pancaked to your own door, head snapping to him with relief.

“Riley!”

Brandon takes a step back, expression stormy. Simon almost laughs. Little prick is barely taller than you, has done hard work maybe twice in his life. His hands look softer than yours. And he’s wearing a sweater vest.

“Did we wake you up?” you ask.

Simon saunters down the hall towards you. The closer he gets, the more nervous Brandon gets. But you seem to relax a bit more with each step, even shift towards him.

Very good girl.

“Was already up.” He doesn’t look away from Brandon, radiating menace.

You hum in understanding - know Simon keeps late hours. Brandon clears his still-intact throat and you jolt a bit, expression wilting.

“Oh, um. Riley this is my coworker. Brandon, this is Riley, my neighbor.”

“How do you do?” Brandon replies stiffly.

Simon’s not playing along.

“You try to push her again, someone will be pushing you in a wheelchair the rest of your life. Understand?”

Brandon sputters while your eyes go adorably wide, expression caught between horror and gratitude. Like you don’t know if you should be condoning his threats.

“I beg your pardon?!”

“Not yet, but you will if I see you here again, yeah?”

Brandon’s face drains of blood. You press your lips together.

“Now get the fuck out. I’ve got her from here.”

Brandon, worm that he is, scurries away with a hasty “see you Monday”. You don’t reply, too busy blinking up at Simon with parted lips.

He chucks you gently under the chin, eyes narrowing in amusement.

“Off to bed. I’m kidnapping you tomorrow.”

You audibly swallow, then nod.

“Thank you.”

“Good manners.”

#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #slasher ghost #charmed ghost #final girl reader

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cherubfae · 3 months

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love letters || hazbin x reader

with Alastor, Lucifer, Sir Pentious, Angel Dust, Husk, & Vox!

You think you're being sooo sneaky leaving all these sweet love letters for your favorite guy. You're not. They 100% know but if they'll do anything about it is another question entirely.

tags: gn!reader! but implied male/masc reader for Angel ofc :3 mostly fluff!! mildly suggestive in Luci's & Vox's, slight angst for Angel, mention of alcohol consumption in Husk's! Alastor being his usual self lmao

Alastor

You must think you are quite the clever little thing, leaving such sweet notes around for anyone to find. Little letters you think he doesn't know come from you. His shadows haunt every crevice aware of all that goes on within the hotel's interior, and especially those that dwell within his radio tower. It is amusing watching you slither into his abode to leave yet another sweetly decorated note on his control panel while Alastor lurks within the darker corners of his tower. Scarlet eyes soaking you in like a lion hunting a gazelle.

Then, like smoke, you slip out the hatch and down the ladder towards the hotel as quickly as death. Trying to seem casual, whistling an off-key tune.

Curious, he grins. What a curious creature you are, hmm? He picks the letter up, his red claw caressing the crease of the seal. His name stares up at him, written in exquisite cursive and emboldened red ink he wished was blood.

With a single claw he slits open the top of the envelope with the precision of a surgeon's scalpel, withdrawing its contents that had piqued his interest. Immediately, his smirk widens. Positively Cheshire-like.

"My, my, darling. You are endearing, I hope you know that!" Alastor cooed with crackling static. He traced his finger along the penmanship.

He pictures you hunched over your desk fretting over such a delicate piece of stationery. Your words oozed admiration for the Radio Demon. How truly touching! The sentiment was most definitely mutual. Next time, he'll be sure to catch you in the act, little lamb.

Lucifer

The King of Hell was quick to move in upon Charlie's insistence. Eager to make up for lost time with his daughter, he takes on all sorts of tasks and attends every event she has planned. Every team-building exercise, there was Lucifer at the forefront; lest his rubber duck depression returned.

Initially, he's quite confused by the sight of a white and gold foiled envelope placed neatly on the center of his pillow when he returns to his quarters to rest. He's never seen his name written with such care. The scent of love and genuine fondness exudes from the small parcel and tempts his senses. It catches him off guard, a puff of hot air escaping his lips, blinking owlishly.

He's lightheaded as he reads the letter with one hand braced against the wall beside him. An apple-red blush coats his cheeks and creeps down his neck. The scent of you clouds his mind and corrupts his thoughts. He's starting to feel dizzy yet oh-so-happy!

You... You wrote this didn't you, sweetling? Red eyes wash over the page. He closes his eyes and presses the letter to his lips as he leans his back into the wall. It's surely from you, but why didn't you just come and talk to him instead of being all mysterious and cryptic? Has he not made his affections for you clear enough? Perhaps you were shy and felt more confident in staying anonymous.

Lucifer couldn't promise you or himself that he wouldn't go and find you immediately after he calmed down enough to be well-composed in a public space. He was practically vibrating with excitement.

Shaking out his hands and jumping in place, Lucifer straightens his tie. If all goes to plan, he'll have you snuggled in his warm embrace as he flies over Pentagram City before sundown.

Of course, he will make sure all six of his massive wings are preened and looking their best first. Hey, he is the King of Hell after all! He's gonna show off for you a little.

"Alright, darlin', I hope you're ready for a night on the town." Lucifer sucked in a sharp breath and exited his room swiftly making his way to you.

Sir Pentious

Sweet man is so flabbergasted! Surely this is a prank, yes? No? Oh my, then that must mean--! His pupils dilate and water, a big cheesy grin sneaks across his cheeks. His tail swishes behind him lightly and it's hard to fight the blush off his cheeks. It takes everything in him to collect his breath as he clutches the letter to his chest.

"What'cha got there, boss?" Points out one of his Egg Bois. Sir Pentious all but squeaks and shoves the paper unceremoniously into his breast pocket.

Pentious rasps, "No-nothing that needs to concern you!"

"Oh, okay!" Chirps his Egg Boi, waddling off.

Sir Pentious sighs, slitted eyes wander over to where you sit at the bar engaged in deep conversation with Angel and Husk. There's a weird tug in his chest he's never felt before. A longing. You catch his eye and give a gentle smile and offer him a tiny wave which he returns eagerly. He sighs dreamily, coiling in on his tails. I hope I may catch you at a more opportune time, my heart.

Angel Dust

Whenever he's had a particularly rough night at Valentino's, Angel retrieves a pastel blue shoe box from deep within his closest, almost completely filled to the brim with letters, gifts, and keepsakes you'd given him. Even the silly little half-assed doodle you made of him as a spider. He saved it all.

You're so cute, thinking that you're all anonymous when you are absolutely not, leaving him the cutest fuckin' letters that make him want to explode. It's nice. Having someone want you and not for sex. The pure heart of gold of yours was gonna be the double-death of him.

Angel hasn't quite worked up the nerve to ask you out yet. It's something he ponders every day, especially when reading your newest letter. He feels too stuck, too... Fucked up. That's not something he'd wanna put on you. You've never treated him like anything but a person. You saw the real him.

Instead, he lives for your letters. Wishing things could be different, that he could find the power to cut the contract with Valentino, and truly become yours when he's no longer that fucker's pet.

His eyes well with tears as he cradles your latest letter, praising him for how well he'd done at Charlie's little team-building experiment. He pretends it's you that he's holding. His fingers combing through your hair, smiling to himself when you lazily lean up his body to kiss him ever-so-softly. A true kiss made of real love, not lust. You snuggle into his chest fluff with your arms around his waist.

"Baby, I," with a blink, Angel is back to reality. The weight on his chest had only been a snoozing Fat Nuggets. Angel sighs, stroking his little buddy's ears. "Maybe one day, I can be strong enough for both of us, baby." He says out loud, hoping your heart will find his words.

Husk

He's quick to snatch the new letter up before anyone else sees, sending his half-drunk whiskey all across the countertop with a clang. Husk cussed under his breath, stashing your thankfully dry letter beneath the bar for safe-keeping until he could read it later.

"Why'dja gotta leave it out in the open?" Husk grumbles without malice. The playful sway of his raised feathery tail and soft hum as he wipes up his spilled drink was always a good sign of his rare, pleasant mood.

You're growing more and more bold with each letter. Leaving them places where someone other than Husk could accidentally misinterpret them: Charlie.

The last thing he needed was the well-meaning Princess of Hell to overextend herself and start playing matchmaker. Husker was doing just aces on his own. His love life was his and his alone to fuss about. He finished cleaning up the bar for the night, keeping the booze secure in its display case until the following day.

Husk peruses the letter freely in the privacy of his bedroom, one arm folded beneath his head. His golden eyes flicked from word to word. His pupils expand as he exhales an airy chuckle, lingering on the word handsome. The sound of his own trill rumbling in his throat startles him enough to drop the letter and slam his elbow into his nightstand.

Hissing, Husk pressed his palms against his shut eyelids. "Fuck, baby, ya really got this ol' cat comin' undone, huh? Sneaky little minx." He lied back down with a huff. "If only ya knew." His eyes slip shut. Tomorrow. Husk would finally approach you tomorrow.

Vox

"I see you still don't wanna text these, huh, baby?" Vox scoops up the letter taking residence on his seat, hastily clawing it open. He plops down on his chair, leaning back. "Too shy to be so vulnerable for me?" Vox's sharp-toothed grin spreads wide across his display screen, red dripping from the corner of his mouth as he hungrily drinks in your words.

"You are too fuckin' cute, aren't'cha, darlin'?" Vox chuckles, smashing his fist against his console with triumph. A bolt of electricity spirals around the system, causing him to yelp as it spans across the entire city. He created another blackout. "FUCK."

Vox is at your doorstep in a matter of minutes despite the darkness of Pentagram City. The forever-flushed red sky is light enough to find your apartment building. He's dressed in a new suit and feigned ignorance when you opened your door, holding a new letter. Surprised to see him there. Hah, caught with your hand in the fuckin' cookie jar, babe.

Allowing him into your home, Vox easily towers over you with a big grin. You looked fuckin' adorable, staring up at him so meekly.

"You didn't need to hide your feelings from me, sweetheart." He gently tilts your chin upwards. A single cyan claw grazes the line of your jaw, sliding to cup your cheek with his full palm.

"Vox, I," you stammer. Your sentence goes no further than those two small words. Vox traces your lower lip with the tip of his sharp thumb, smiling as your eyes flutter shut. He waits to see if you continue to speak and when you don't, he nods and tugs you to him by your hips. You gasp against him and he smiles, a bit softer now.

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

"I know, baby. I've gotcha," Vox's mouth presses tight to yours, lifting you up further into his arms for better access. Electricity soon ignites the house and city, Velvette must've gotten things running again.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagines #alastor x reader #lucifer x reader #sir pentious x reader #angel dust x reader #husk x reader #vox x reader #cherubfae 2024

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rubylace · 6 days

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𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑳𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑰𝑹 𝑯𝑶𝑶𝑫𝑰𝑬𝑺

[heeseung] he would notice that his hoodie is missing and initially feel a bit confused. as soon as he sees you wearing it, a smile would spread across his face. he would find it adorable and endearing that you wanted to wear his hoodie and it would make him feel a sense of warmth and closeness to you. "I think it's favoritism, do you prefer me or that?" heeseung tease you about stealing his hoodie, but deep down, you look cute in his eyes not breaking eye contact and locking both of your arms with one of his hands. "you really have naughty hands, you must be punished."

[jay] caught off guard when he realizes that his hoodie is missing. he would search around, trying to figure out where it went, until he catches sight of you wearing it. a mischievous grin would appear on his face as he walks up to you, pretending to be upset. he pouting. "that's my hoodie you can't just steal it like that." but his act would quickly fade as he breaks into a smile, unable to resist your adorable appearance in his hoodie. jay would wrap his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug even sniff you and whisper, "you look so cute in it. that's my babe thing what you want it's already yours."

[jake] looked everywhere and opened all his cupboardsand even remembering the last time put it down. seeing you casually pass by him, he find it amusing and endearing that you wearing his hoodie. he would walk up to you leaning against a nearby wall. "well, well, well, what do we have here? I guess I also have to steal something of yours to make it even." then pull you into a hug, stealing a quick kiss on the cheek before letting go. "but seriously, you look amazing in my hoodie. you can keep it, as long as I get to steal a few more kisses from you."

[sunghoon] the hoodie is his prized possession and he's meticulous about keeping track of it. when he realizes it's missing, he goes into full detective mode searching every places. when he finally catches you wearing it, he freezes for a moment, his expression a mix of disbelief and amusement. "wait, is that my hoodie?" trying to hide his smile. he's secretly thrilled that you like it enough to wear it. sunghoon sniffed mixed with your scent and kiss your neck. "so it's joint property now, hm?"

[sunoo] a bit surprised when he didn't see the hoodie in his bag. he search around wondering where it went, until he spots you wearing it. a bright smile light up his face as he approaches you. sunoo would find it adorable and heartwarming that you wanted to take his hoodie. he walk up to you, taking your hand in his, and say, "you stole my hoodie, I guess I can't be mad when you look so cute in it. just promise me you'll give it back... eventually." he pinched your cheek. "If you like it so much I'll buy it again and then we can be a coupling."

[jungwon] he is the type to notice small details, so he realize his hoodie is missing almost immediately. when he sees you wearing it, he chuckle and shake his head. "I should've known it was you," crossing his arms. he tease you about raiding his closet, but his heart would swell with affection knowing you wanted something of his. enjoying the idea of sharing something special with you. he love seeing you cozy in his oversized hoodie. couldn't resist your cuteness and embraced you into his arms. "just ask don't steal you little thief."

[ni-ki] he's carefree, so when he sees you wearing his hoodie, he burst into laughter. "looking good in my clothes," he joke nudging you playfully. he tease you relentlessly about stealing his style, but deep down, he'd feel flattered. ni-ki might even suggest taking some silly photos together, hug you tightly he definitely let you keep the hoodie as a sweet reminder of yours maybe even wearing it himself occasionally as a adorable way to feel closer to you. "it's cuter with your tiny body."

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prongsiepotter · 16 days

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sunbathing by the black lake | j. potter

summary: your childhood best friend james is being a little shit but in an endearing sort of way while showing his little acts of love

pairing: james potter x childhood bsf!reader

a/n: my first time writing on this blog!! i have a childhood friends to lovers playlist on spotify if anyone wants to listen to it bc i have a feeling it’s all i’ll write abt lol would really appreciate some feedback! enjoy x

──────── 𑁍︎ ‧₊°

There's no way to explain how the energy shifts when James is around. It simply does. Just like how you can feel the sun beating down on you right now. Hence, you can sense his approach without as much as a glance at him, your gaze continuing to drift across the notes Remus left for you in the margins of your essay.

James knows that, of course, as he strides across the grass towards you. You have never really talked about it, but seeing how he can also just tell when you're about to enter a room he's in, you both have made it a habit to not announce your presence. There's just no need.

So when he plops down next to you and rests his chin on your shoulder like it's his birthright, neither of you is surprised. In fact, it’s just right. Like puzzles slotting in perfectly.

For a few minutes, the world consists of birds chirping, a warm breeze, and the distant laughter of a group of Hufflepuff girls sitting a few paces away. You flip the page and let out a huff of laughter. James chuckles, his voice low and right next to your ear as he says, "Wouldn't be Moony if everything he touches didn't have a chocolate stain on it."

"It's like he's marking his territory." You try to rub it off with your sleeve, but the smudge only gets bigger. You squint and hold the paper in front of you, trying to discern if it's that noticeable (it is) but with a shrug you decide you couldn't care less. The movement makes James' glasses slide down to the tip of his nose, and he leans forward to make a dramatic face at you as if you had done him deeply wrong. With a playful eye-roll, you push them back for him and get a signature James Potter smile in return.

"Cheers, love." He beams at you and retrieves a balled-up napkin from the inside of his robe before taking it off. You watch him roll up the sleeves of his white Oxford shirt to his elbows, placing the mystery napkin on your lap. You glance at it curiously. "Unwrap it," he says. "It's for you."

Doing as you're told, you perk up with excitement when the content reveals itself. "Effie sent them?" You hold up the mangled piece of apple crumble like it's the most sacred thing you have ever gotten to hold, which it is. James nods, smiling at your happy dance. "I love her apple crumbles. Thank you!"

"You love everything my mum bakes," he says while lying down on his side, right in front of you with his head propped up on his palm. There's a glimmer in his amber eyes.

You give him a pointed look.

"Because everything that lovely woman bakes is the most scrumptious and amazing thing to exist." You take a big bite from the apple crumble to prove your point and your eyes flutter close as you hum. "This is why we're friends, Potter," you say with a mouthful. "No other reason. This is it."

"Oh yeah?" You hear the amusement in the drawl of his voice. Then he cups the side of your face and you look down at him as he distractedly brushes off some crumbs from the corner of your mouth. He looks up at the sky. "That's a shame because this is the last time you will get anything my mum has baked."

James' gaze is still turned upward, giving the sky his utmost interest as if to check if it's still blue. You stare at him in bewilderment. "Are you insane? Why would you deprive me of Effie's food?"

"I wonder how the weather will be tomorrow," he responds flippantly, and you swear your eye twitches.

"Oh, I'm sorry," you say, narrowing your eyes at him. "I forgot you were satan's spawn."

James does not react. You don’t think he will even reply with the way how he’s squinting and examining the very much non-existent clouds in the clear sky. But then he looks at you like you had asked him to solemnly share his meteorology findings with you, and with undeserved earnestness he tells you, "I think tomorrow will be just as sunny as today."

You blink at him. Then give a long-suffering sigh. "I thought you cared about me."

"I do," James says, rolling over to lay on his back with his eyes closed. "Which is why I can't have you lose your mind over some flour and sugar. I'm doing us a favour. Preserving our friendship." He cracks an eye open to look at you. "We've been friends since diapers, not because of my mum’s food, but because I'm brilliant and extremely lovable. Get your facts straight, woman."

You toss the napkin at his face.

He laughs.

Glancing at the last piece of the apple crumble in your hand, you ask, "Do you want it?"

James shakes his head, looking fond. "You assault me and then offer me the last bite?"

"Force of habit," you say flatly. "I can take it back."

He chuckles and takes off his glasses, resting his arm over his eyes. "You can have it, love. Cheers."

You don't have to be told twice and pop it happily in your mouth. With his other arm, he sweeps the scattered pages aside and pats the spot next to him. "Sleep with me?"

You quirk a brow. "Trying to get into my knickers, Potter?"

A breathy laughter escapes his lips. "Are you offering?"

"You wish."

"Merlin, yes." He sighs dramatically as if all James Potter has known in this lifetime was the pain of longing. He grabs blindly for you and pulls lightly at the hem of your skirt. "A man can dream. But for now just nap with me, yea?"

You bat at his wrist but let him pull you towards him nonetheless. There was never any other option, really.

In the blink of a moment, you're nestled into James’ side. His arm is cushioning your head, fingers absentmindedly playing with your hair as he tells you his thoughts on a book he recently read because he knew you liked it. You listen intensely, enjoying the easy conversation and the sunlight warming your skin. The world feels peaceful, and it doesn't take long before sleep pulls you both into a cosy slumber.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter oneshot #james potter fanfiction #james potter fic #james potter x you #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #marauders #marauders imagine #the marauders

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jihyoruri · 2 months

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↳❀warnings: yn is a member of lesserafim, this is the yn from paparazzi(firecracker!yn) you can find more in the masterlist, fluff, swearing

as hanni let out a deep sigh, the warmth of the sun enveloped her, its rays gently caressing her skin. she laid on the soft grass, feeling its coolness beneath her, contrasting with the warmth above.

looking up at the vast expanse of the sky, hanni noticed the clouds drifting lazily by, each one taking on a unique shape. some resembled fluffy pillows, inviting her to rest her head and drift off into dreams. others were long and wispy, like tendrils of cotton candy stretching across the blue canvas.

a gentle breeze brushed against her skin, carrying with it the faint scent of flowers from a nearby garden. hanni closed her eyes, allowing herself to be fully present in the moment, soaking in the sights, sounds, and sensations of the peaceful afternoon.

birds chirped melodiously in the distance, hanni felt a sense of calm wash over her, the worries and stresses of the day melting away in the embrace of nature.

she loved days like this

“this is so fucking itchy.” yn grumbled, scratching at her arm as she lay on her stomach beside Hanni. despite noticing her discomfort, hanni couldn’t help but smile at the cute scowl on the girls face.

hanni, always the nature lover, had convinced yn to join her for some outdoor relaxation, promising a peaceful afternoon in the sun. but the reality of itchy grass was proving to be a challenge for yn, whose hotheaded nature made her intolerant of such annoyances.

yn had reluctantly laid down on the grass next to hanni, knowing how much it meant to her, but not without a string of curses muttered under her breath. she tried to focus on the warmth of the sun and the beauty of the sky, but the itching was driving her mad.

hanni glanced over at yn, amused by her girlfriend's predicament. she reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from yn’s, smiling when the girl didn’t move her hand away, “wanna get up?”

“no, I know it’s relaxing for you, I’ll live.” yn says moving to lay on her back, her words make hanni’s heart feel full and she smiles wide, “that’s so cute of you.”

“shut up.” yn grumbles.

hanni chuckled at yn’s grumble, finding her girlfriend's stubbornness endearing. she watched as yn shifted to lie on her back, trying to find a more comfortable position despite the itching grass.

"you're too stubborn for your own good, you know that?" hanni teased, nudging Yn playfully with her elbow.

yn rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips but she immediately erases it "says the one who dragged me out here in the first place."

hanni laughed, enjoying their banter. "I just wanted us to spend some peaceful time together, away from the chaos of our schedules."

"yeah, yeah, sure, you're just obsessed with me," yn teased, trying to hide the warmth that spread through her cheeks at hanni's affectionate words

"maybe I am," hanni replied softly, her eyes twinkling with amusement and love.

"shut up," yn grumbled, but there was no real heat behind her words. she was too busy feeling overwhelmed by the depth of hanni’s feelings for her.

hanni laughed at yn's reaction, finding her girlfriend's embarrassment utterly adorable. "I'm just agreeing with what you're saying," she teased, reaching out to playfully tousle yn's hair.

yn swatted hanni's hand away, trying her best to hide her smile, “yeah, well now I’m saying shut up.”

hanni grinned, feeling a surge of affection for the girl in front of her. She reached out and gently brushed a stray lock of hair away from yn's face, her touch tender.

"you're so cute," hanni said, her voice filled with affection, causing yn to feel a mix of embarrassment and warmth.

"I'm actually going to fight you,"

hanni laughed at yn’s playful not so playful threat. "aw, my taekwondo champion," she teased, a playful glint in her eyes.

It was true; before becoming an idol, yn had been a taekwondo champion, and hanni loved teasing her about it.

“I will take you down right now.”

“you would never, you love me too much.” hanni says flashing a smile.

yn didn't respond, but the truth in Hanni's words was undeniable, so all she did was shove hanni’s shoulder lightly, which made hanni let a giggle at the girl.

"I wonder if your members know about how soft their hotheaded yn is for me," hanni teased.

"I am not soft!" yn protested.

hanni laughed, reaching out to gently poke yn's side. "you are! you're all tough and fierce on the outside, but deep down, you're a big softie for me,”

yn doesn’t reply and hanni couldn't help but laugh in victory, pleased with her teasing. she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to yn's cheek, causing the girl to scrunch up her face in mock annoyance.

"hey, none of that," Hanni teased, lightly poking Yn's cheek. "You know you love my kisses."

“you love me so much, you’d change your sakura unnie photocard at the back of your phone to one of mine.” hanni says confidently as she picked up yn’s phone and looked at the photo card of the eldest lesserafim member but yn just side eyes her.

“too far, I don’t love you that much.”

#firecracker!yn #new jeans x reader #hanni #hanni pham #hanni x reader #hanni pham x reader #lesserafim #new jeans #new jeans hanni #girl group imagines #girl group fluff

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your-friendly-sociopath · 11 months

Text

Ok listen up, I'm bored and tired and have recently come to the realization that all time is fleeting and hazbin hotel has yet to release their first episode

So to cope, I've written more yandere alastor x reader cus I can

This one is romantic btw, set during alastor's life

Tw: Attempted Rape, murder, and gore

Part 2 here

His Darling Doe

Recently, a quaint little diner opened across the street from Alastor's radio station

It was quite convenient to him, not as out-of-the-way as his usual preferred spot

So he started going to the diner every morning for a cup of joe

You were rather new in town, and had been looking for a job after having just finished moving in

So you applied for a waitress position at the new diner, and got the job

Because you were new, you didn't recognize Alastor as a famous radio host

To you, he was just your average handsome fella

Rather coincidentally, Alastor would find himself at the same table every morning, which just so happened to be in your section

You introduced yourself to him, pencil hovering over your notebook as you prepared to take his order

Much to Alastor's surprise (and slight relief) you didn't fangirl over him immediately

In fact, you treated him like you did any other customer

It was refreshing

Alastor ordered his coffee, while also sizing you up

You came very close to being his next victim

Not because he didn't like you

On contrary you amused him

Always having a snarky reply to his sarcastic remarks

He'd compliment you, and you'd compliment him back

He ended up spending and hour longer at the diner then he should've chatting with you

Reluctantly he told you he had to go, but promised to see you again soon

He was sure to tip you on his way out

Later that night as Alastor was closing up the station he started thinking about you

You had perplexed him

You were one of the few humans that he found entertaining

At least, one of the few humans that didn't need to be brutally murdered in order to find entertaining

He had found himself entranced when speaking with you earlier, he just knew he needed more

So after that night he would always show up early at the diner, hours before his shift at the radio station, and simply talk with you

At first you had been weirded out by his constant presence each morning

But over time you grew to look forward to your meetings

You even developed a crush on him

Now, having lived in new Orleans long enough, you obviously new of it's infamous serial killer

Most of everything you knew came from Alastor's talk show

During one of your early morning meet ups with Alastor, you confessed your deep fear of the killer to him, while also expressing concern for both of y'all's safety

Alastor found this to be very endearing and somewhat amusing (though he didn't let the latter show)

He claimed immediately after you spoke that he would do everything in his power to keep you out of harms way

So after that Alastor would walk you home from your job every night

However one night Alastor got held up at the station, leaving you to walk home, alone

You had walked home by yourself plenty of times before, but tonight was different

As you left the diner you felt a strange sense of foreboding

While walking home you felt grimy old hand roughly grab you wrist and yank you into the alleyway

You opened you mouth to call for help, but before you could make a noise your assailant smashed his lips into yours

You thrashed in his grip and were able to get your mouth free of his

Before you could continue to fight back you heard a zipping sound and realized with dread what this man intended

However, before he could get any further something crashed into him and pinned him to the ground

Immediately you scrambled a few feet away, eyes wide as you realized just who had saved you

Alastor pinned the old man to the ground and ruthlessly stabbed the man over and over, until the walls were covered in scarlet

Quickly, you shuffled backwards, still on the ground, in an attempt to get away

Unfortunately for you, Alastor heard you and snapped his head in your direction, maniacal grin now etched in his face

He kept towards you and pinned you to the ground, similarly to how he had pinned your now dead assailant

You closed your eyes tightly, and flinched away when you felt his hot breath on your neck

You had gotten a glimpse of the body lying a few feet away from you, and had quickly realized that Alastor was the very killer you were so scared of

You were expecting the sharp and painful feeling of a knife being plunged in your chest

So when you instead felt soft kisses along you collar bone, you couldn't help but involuntarily flinch

You felt Alastor pause his gentle touched, as he climbed off of you and pulled you into his lap on the floor

"My darling Doe, are you alright?"

You heard him ask gently

To scared to talk, you managed only a stiff nod

You heard a soft chuckle come from him, as he stood up and carried you bridal style out of the alley, and towards the bayou

You felt the cool night air hit you, and shivered

You could feel your shock slowly wearing off, yet couldn't stop trembling, knowing that you were in the arms of a killer

Alastor felt you trembling in his arms, and pulled you closer to him, nuzzling his face into your soft hair

"I have you, you're safe now, my dear,"

You heard him whisper into your hair

Eventually you reached a cabin deep within the swamp

Alastor kicked the door open and carried you upstairs into his bedroom

He gently put you down on the bed, before kissing your forehead and leaving, being sure to lock the door behind him

Once you were alone you curled up on the corner of the bed, and cried

You don't know what exactly about, all you knew was that your head was to full of emotion and shock to think clearly

So you cried yourself to sleep

When you woke up you were in the same bed, but in a clean sleeping gown

With Alastor curled up around you

At first you simply nuzzled closer, feeling Alastor tighten his arms around you

Then you noticed the blood stain on his sleeve, and suddenly all your memories of the previous night came crashing back

You jumped out of the bed and ran to the door, yanking on the doorknob, only to find it locked

Suddenly, you felt a warm, broad chest press against your back, and strong arms around your waist

A few months ago you'd've been delighted to be in this situation

Now though, you were petrified

"Wherever do you think your going, my darling Doe?"

You heard Alastor say softly behind you

"You're home now, safe and sound with me. Where you belong~"

Love me some unhinged Alastor

Might do part two, idk yet

#yandere hazbin hotel #yandere human Alastor x reader #human alastor #human Alastor x reader #yandere alastor x reader #yandere alastor #yandere human Alastor

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urhoneycombwitch · 3 months

Text

shrine of your lights

🍯 honey flavour: edibles and a church wedding to attend. what could go wrong with Eddie as your plus one?

🐝 the bees: FWB!Eddie x reader

wc: 4.8k

content warnings: a smidge of Catholic blasphemy, weed usage, friends w/ benefits Eddie, R is a bit of a love (and relationship) skeptic and Eddie is lovesick, R+E are in their 20’s, pining, public sex (no one but them observes tho), R has hair long enough to tuck behind ears, R gets a hickey but skin tone/color is not described, R has breasts and a V, softdom Eddie, marking kink (?)

foreword: I listened to Say You Love Me by Fleetwood Mac for this. LOL. kind of AU bc it’s a few years after ssn 4 and everyone is alive and just fine (lovesick but oh well can’t b helped) based on this anon thank u for inspiring me!!!!

The stained glass window in front of you looms tall, afternoon light streaming through and casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the polished wood flooring. You stretch out a hand into the warm beam of sun, admiring the way the colors catch and bounce off your dainty star-chain bracelet.

When Eddie had suggested you two eat some weed brownies as a precursor to your (very distant, very Catholic) cousin’s wedding, you hadn’t quite expected to get as stoned as you are now. Since Eddie hasn’t attended any major life functions sober since 1981, and seeing as how you refuse to step foot inside a church space without some sort of social lubricant, the weed wasn’t a hard sell at all.

To be fair, Eddie had warned you of their potency, and you had snuck another quarter of a brownie when his back was turned: but christ, your tolerance must be crazy low or something, ‘cuz a window has no right to be this mesmerizing.

You’ve been staring at it for the past five minutes, in your own little world while a steady stream of wedding guests file in through the big oak doors and mill about before the ceremony. The warm, still air of the church is heady with the smell of fresh florals and incense, and a line of votive candles flicker and wink against the windowsill.

Casting a glance over your shoulder, you see Eddie’s still speaking in gentle tones with an elderly woman (whom you’re likely related to, hard to say) near the foyer, all charming smile and sincere hand pressed to the slip of bare chest his button-down displays. You’ve got to hand it to the guy, he’s really great at endearing himself to total strangers; he’s been a natural shoe-in for any plus-one you’ve needed over the past few years.

While Eddie is perfectly in his element, holding what looks to be an engaging conversation while stoned to all hell, your focus is drawn back to the window. You should probably be on the arm of your guest, seeing as how it’s your family wedding after all, but the swirling lights and colors are too alluring to pull yourself away from.

“Beautiful piece of art, isn’t it?”

The voice behind you is unfamiliar, and proper social graces here would call for an introduction, perhaps a firm handshake, but your limbs and tongue feel so loose and the reply is out of your mouth before you can think twice- “God, yeah. S’fucking gorgeous. I want one for my house.”

There’s a light cough, and when you turn on your low-heeled Mary Janes it’s under the amused eye of a priest- in full priest-garb. Green velvet robes and little hat and everything.

You realize your error- swearing and taking the Lord’s name in vain- but the brief stint in Catholic school from when you were 6 is unfortunately not recalled in time to stop the scramble of swears mixed with apologies that come tumbling out.

“Oh shit- I mean- fuck. Oh god. Sorry, Father, I didn’t mean-”

The priest- old as hell but thankfully with sense of humor still intact- smiles kindly at you and takes your hand in both of his, patting graciously. “No apologies are necessary, my dear. The beauty of God can be overwhelming and awe-inducing.”

You nod jerkily, grabbing on to his excuse- “Yes, yep. That’s exactly what happened. Struck down by the awe.”

The priest nods to you, and then to Eddie (who’s appeared at your side like a guard dog that sensed trouble), then wanders off down a row of pews to greet other guests.

You’re nearly doubled over with the effort it takes to conceal your laughter, Eddie stroking a calming hand down your back and chuckling with you under his breath.

“Struck down by the awe, huh?” he echoes as you straighten back up and dab at the tears gathering against your lashline. “You really are somethin’.”

“That was so embarrassing but guess what-” here you lean in, voice a conspiratorial whisper as Eddie raises his eyebrows to look down his nose at you- “I don’t give a fuck ‘cuz I’m hi-igh.”

This last word is sung with a two-note lilt, and you turn back to the comfort of the sunny window as Eddie steps in beside you, shaking his head. “I told you to start with a lower dose, ya goose. Did you take more when I wasn’t looking?”

You shrug a shoulder, the soft linen of your cardigan brushing up against the hard leather of Eddie’s jacket. “Maybe. Couldn’t say. You gonna steal this window for me or what?”

He blows out a breath, pretending to appraise the size and heft, rapping his ringed knuckles against the sill- “Well normally I’d say ‘anything for my girl’, but we’d need a shrink ray for this type’a heist.”

“Maybe Dustin has one we can borrow.”

He sucks his front teeth, playing along, shaking his head in faux-disappointment. “Nah, little shit’s only got a ham radio. Useless when it comes to religious robbery.”

Eddie looks overly pleased when you giggle, but some of the humor in his face falls to concern as he reaches out to squeeze your upper arms. “Hey. You doin’ okay? If you’re too stoned to sit through the ceremony, I can find us a little spot to hole up in. I’m good at finding those.”

“I know you are,” you reply, waving away his worry. “I’m fine, honest. Do I look high?”

He holds you at arm’s length, giving you a contemplative once-over. “Nope. You look beautiful.”

You roll your eyes, affectionately, then smooth your palms over the front of your black slip dress and pull the scalloped sleeves of your cardigan into place. “Well, of that I am aware.”

Eddie winks, and you really wish you were sober enough that the warmth of his hands and the smell of his cologne would have less of an effect but high as you are, you want nothing more than to burrow into his neck and taste the salt of his skin.

“Do I look high?” he asks, pulling away to do a little spin so you can appraise his appearance.

Eddie Munson, as it turns out, cleans up very well for family functions: smart black boots, maroon button-down tucked into a pair of flare-legged trousers, worn but well-kept leather jacket to top the outfit off. And in signature Eddie fashion, little glints of silver highlight the ensemble- his usual chunky rings, stacked layers of thin chain necklaces, metal buckles on his coat and at his waist, even a set of tiny hoops (courtesy of your jewelry drawer) in his ears.

The dryness in your mouth has nothing to do with your intoxication as you blink back to the present and give Eddie a once-over. “Uhm. Nope. You look sober. And very hot.”

He grins at you, wolfish, but then a bright chord of organ music signals the start of the ceremony. With a steady hand on your back, he leads you to a pew near the last row; when you’re both seated, his hand runs smoothly down to rest on your thigh, drumming a lazy beat with his thumb against you as the processional starts.

Your cousin Marion looks lovely swathed in white tulle, contrasted with her groom in a black tux. Her mother, your aunt- Karen? Karina? can’t recall- dabs at her tears with a delicate lace handkerchief in the front pew as the couple exchanges vows, promising eternal and ineffable love until their ultimate demise, etcetera.

You’re not someone who’s ever fallen prone to the gushy emotions that love seems to create in so many of your peers. While Nancy and Robin will dole out tissues to each other during some cheesy romcom, you’ll get ribbed for being so stoic. None of your breakups have ever ended in giant blowouts or dramatics from your side- hard to fight for something when you hadn’t really cared about it in the first place.

That’s why you consider yourself so lucky, when it comes to Eddie. After the two of you ended your high school fling due to graduation, you’d come back to Hawkins after a few years of college and found yourself sneaking out like a teenager again to hang out with Eddie Munson.

He told you he doesn’t want anything serious, either, and that he’s just fine being friends who sleep around and go to all of each other’s parties.

You almost believe him.

He’s been to every one of your nephew’s hockey games this past season, and you’ve spent two cozy Christmases so far at the trailer with him and Wayne; every party in between has ended with Eddie driving you home, or (more frequently) back to his place. Your collective relatives and friends haven’t asked about your relationship status in years, and it’s all thanks to Eddie’s presence in your life: if the two of you aren’t technically dating, it’s really no one’s business.

The old priest from earlier is droning on about some bible verse; uncomfortable on the hard bench and feeling restless, you shift your hips, and Eddie digs his fingers into the meat of your thigh.

“Quit. Squirming,” he murmurs, lips at your ear. When you shiver and still, he pats your leg and straightens again, eyes fixed to the front altar.

You and Eddie make it through the ceremony with minimal damage, only getting one dirty look from an older man in the pew ahead when you’d snickered at a dirty joke (courtesy of your benchmate). Marion and her new husband greet their guests one by one as everyone filters outside, and you coast easily through the interaction, kissing your cousin on both cheeks and fawning over her dress and giving just the right amount of congrats before Eddie plucks at your elbow to subtly redirect your attention.

“Let’s get some food in you,” he says, linking your arms together as you follow the receiving line outdoors.

The reception is held just next to the church building in a surprisingly lovely courtyard. Sunlight filters through the willow trees at the edge of a grass yard, where a picnic basket awaits on each spread quilt. People are kicking off their dress shoes, unwinding with the lure of nature, kids chasing each other through the paths between blankets as adults wiggle their toes into the grass and dig into the luncheon.

Possibly, you’re high and over-romanticizing, but you can tell by the look on Eddie’s face he’s there with you, taking it all in from your blanket in a quiet corner of the yard.

There are finger sandwiches in the basket, along with some fresh fruit and plastic utensils and plates to eat off of; Eddie fixes you a plate and you dig in happily, sock feet tucked under yourself, yours and Eddie’s shoes in a jumble nearby.

“Could eat anything when I’m high,” you muse, then bite into a sandwich that has the perfect cream-cheese-to-cucumber ratio with a contented sigh. “Food is so good.”

Eddie snaps a baby carrot with his back teeth, then snorts at you before reaching out to tuck one side of your hair behind your ear before it gets eaten along with your food. “I know you can eat anything when you’re high. I once saw you scooping up apple pie with potato chips.”

You give him a sidelong frown, mouth full of bread and veg as you defend yourself- “Yeah, and it was great. Dee-licious. Would do it again if-”

Your name is being called, and you swivel to see a young man about your age weaving along the spaces between blankets towards yours and Eddie’s spot.

“Tony!” In a neat bit of multitasking, you manage to swallow your food and rise to your feet (albeit unsteadily, with Eddie’s hand snapping out to support your efforts), then hold your arms out to envelop the boy in a hug. “Oh my god, it’s been ages.”

Anthony Townsend has grown up in the time you’ve spent away- the last recollection you have of your former childhood neighbor is his mop of red hair bouncing with the trampoline his parents bought him in 6th grade. He grew into his looks, for sure- the awkwardness of pre-teen ears and too-big front teeth have settled into a very kind and handsome face.

He looks genuinely pleased to see you, returning your hug with a squeeze, pulling back to hold both your hands and ask about where you’ve been. You breeze through a highlighted version of the last few years, leaving out all the interdimensional monster bullshit and focusing the questions back on him.

Tony’s telling you about his father’s veterinary practice that’s still running smoothly when you feel Eddie at your back, and Tony falters, dropping your hands.

Social cues come a tad slow to you, under the influence, and you think Tony’s stumbling because you haven’t introduced him yet (how were you supposed to know Eddie’s been glaring daggers at the poor kid ever since you’d hugged him?), and you attempt to remedy your mistake with a casual remark- “You know, Eddie here has been feeding the stray cats at our place every night, a whole colony of them- there’s gotta be, what, ten of ‘em now?”

You turn to Eddie for confirmation, reeling a little at the dark scowl he’s still sporting as he nods. “Yup. Somethin’ like.”

Tony scratches at the back of his neck, freckled cheeks pink as he begins to back away- “Um, yeah. Cool. Well it was great to see you! I gotta…”

With a vague gesture, he turns and tails it back to his blanket on the other side of the yard. You whirl on Eddie, his face smoothing back into relaxed indifference, even as you hiss, “What the hell was that?”

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t know what you mean, princess.”

“That,” you repeat, waving an arm in the air for emphasis. “I know I’m not sober but you were being weird, even by my standards.”

There’s this look that Eddie gets, sometimes, when one of you bumps against the walls of your loosely-defined relationship- a brief flash of pain and sadness before it gets hidden away behind his comfortable mask of bravado.

He’s got it now- a small pinch in his eyebrows, doey eyes swimming with emotion, and you put a hand on his leather-clad arm as the pieces fall into place. “Were you… are you jealous?”

In the span of a blink, the mask is back up, and with a dry laugh that’s so unlike him, Eddie shakes his head. “Nah. What do I have to be jealous of, huh? ‘S not like we belong to each other.”

Maybe on a different day, with half the weed in your system, you’d be able to let this comment slide. But there’s something deeply hurtful about it, sinking and twisting in your stomach like a stone. Your grip tightens on Eddie’s arm, tears stinging hot at your eyes, voice a watery, desperate thing- “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”

Eddie is quick to comfort you, once he realizes you’re close to crying- “Shit, sweetheart. Okay. You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to think…” Your voice is still shaky with emotion as Eddie lets you hold on to him, gently shushing you even though there’s no one near enough to hear. “You’re important to me, Eddie. I never wanna make you mad, or upset, or-”

“I’m not.” Eddie cuts smoothly into your rambling, placing his hands on either side of your neck as you cling to him, cool rings kissing into your skin. “I’m not mad, promise. I was just being an asshole for no reason, okay? Could never be mad at you.”

His thumb strokes at the column of your throat, your breath and heart rate lulled to normal under his touch, his expression returning to the gentle fondness you’re used to seeing.

“Let’s finish up lunch, hm?” Eddie says, and with a final soft squeeze he pulls away from you, taking with him the warmth of his palms.

It’s always like this, with him, at least in front of your respective families- any PDA is kept to a strict minimum, nothing too intimate or drawn out so as not to attract attention. You’d implemented this rule from the beginning, and Eddie has been nothing but respectful of it, your peace of mind over not wanting a label pacified.

But right now? The lack of Eddie’s arms around you or his lips on yours was starting to make you ache.

You both settle into the blanket again, conversation flowing around mouthfuls of food as you catch Eddie up with the latest family gossip, laughing when he bats your pointer finger out of the air (as if anyone is really paying attention to you two giggling loons).

Someone’s brought a radio and has it dialed to a soft rock station; you gasp and shove at Eddie (sprawled out like a house cat after a full meal in the sun), exclaiming “It’s Fleetwood Mac and you love Fleetwood Mac!”

“I so don’t,” he grumbles, but rises easily when you tug at him to stand sock-to-sock feet with you in the grass.

You both fall into a smooth rhythm, Eddie’s hands staying (respectably) on your hips, yours looped around his neck, doing a slow little rotation. He gazes at you as you sway back and forth in each other’s arms, the scrutiny making you titter and fidget.

“What?”

“Thought I told you to quit squirmin’,' ' comes his answer, hands tightening into the meat of your waist. “Let me look at you a minute.”

So you let him look.

While his chocolate eyes roam your face, you trail a hand up to curl a lock of his hair around your finger. Eddie leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut, giving you room to do some staring of your own at those long, dark lashes.

After another slow circle, Eddie inhales and draws himself back, clearing his throat. “Not that I’m not enjoying this, sweetheart, but we’re gonna start getting looks if you don’t quit using me as your personal stress toy.”

You snort. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“All good,” he replies, dimples springing into his cheeks, teasing again- “When we get home later you can pet me like a dog, if you want. Just gotta tone you down ‘cuz you get touchy when you’re high.”

Eddie’s being a perfect gentleman. He’s sticking to your rules and looking out for you.

So why is it making you so sad?

You realize, with a stunning clarity, that you don’t want to wait until you’re back at the trailer to touch Eddie. That you’re starting to crave him when he leaves, whether it’s for a day or an hour or just out of bed to get a snack.

Fuck it, you think, and bend to scoop up your shoes.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you tell Eddie, slipping on your shoes then starting towards the building. When you realize he’s not following, you pause, giving him a look over your shoulder- “Aren’t you coming?”

Eddie blinks, wondering if you’re insinuating what he thinks you’re insinuating or if he’s just really, really high. “Um. Uh…”

You don’t leave room for the shock to sink in, turning on your heel and smirking when you hear him swear under his breath and scramble to catch up.

In a narrow hallway lined with portraits of long-dead saints, you push Eddie against the wall, mouth sealing over his and hands roaming hungrily over his body.

“Fuck,” he gasps out, in between kisses, your fingers tugging at the root of his hair, near the nape of his neck where it stings the best- “what’s got you so worked up, princess?”

“You.” The answer is an honest one. You slip your tongue between Eddie’s teeth and the boy moans, melting into you.

Peppering kisses down Eddie’s face, your lips settle into the hollow just under his jaw, then part to give room to your teeth. Eddie stiffens as you bite down, sensitive skin pierced by your mouth; it’s his turn to be the squirmy one as you suck a bruise into that soft spot.

His cock is filling out, as proved by the steadily-growing bulge behind his zipper. You give a mean little wiggle of your hips and Eddie jolts so hard you lose your spot on his neck, popping off him with a wet smack.

“Angel, you have to stop.” Eddie sounds absolutely wrecked as he tries to maintain some distance, head tipped back to stare at the popcorn ceiling. “M’not gonna last if you keep doing that. Let me take you home, we can-”

“Shhh.” You quiet him with a pointer finger smooshed against his lips, your other hand tilted to your ear. “You hear that?”

Eddie strains to hear distant cheers and hip hip hoorays from the festivities a few corridors away; when he nods, you whisper, “That’s the cake cutting. We have a good ten minutes before anyone thinks to come back here.”

At first, Eddie thinks he’s off the hook when you release him completely, walking swiftly towards the main sanctuary. But then, because you’re a temptress, you beckon him with an impatient wave.

And because he’s so easy for you, he follows.

It’s like that window has a magnetic pull- you’re back under the prismatic glow of the stained glass, brushing a hand across the wide sill to dust it before hopping up to perch there. You fit neatly between the split row of votive candles (all snuffed out by now), enough room for your knees to part and for Eddie to fill the space.

You cross your arms around his neck, drawing him in with another deep kiss as his hands find your waist.

“Want you to mark me up,” you murmur, and when Eddie draws back, wary, you let your chin tip up. The crown of your head knocks into the window, exposing your throat. “Show them I’m yours, Eds.”

Only have to tell him twice, apparently, ‘cuz his teeth sink into your stretch of soft skin without further qualms. The feeling of his tongue soothing over the sore spot makes you jump, hips bucking forward into his hand that you didn’t even notice had trailed up the inside of your dress.

His long fingers pet at the wet patch that’s seeping through your underwear, catching at your clit on an upstroke, your gasp a harsh noise in the otherwise silent sanctuary.

Eddie begins to rub at you through the fabric in earnest now, tight circles with his thumb even as he pulls his mouth from your neck to assess his handiwork. “Yeah, fuck, sweetheart, that’s gonna leave a mark. You want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?”

Your bundle of nerves throbs under Eddie’s touch and you curse, hands weaving tight into his hair again. “Shit, Eddie, yeah- just like that…”

He dips back into the well of your neck with his teeth, keeps just the right amount of pressure on your clit, and that tension coiling in your lower stomach is just about to snap before you stop him with a hand around his wrist.

“Sorry,” you pant through the apology, forehead crushed to Eddie’s collarbone as you try and catch your breath. “Was about to come and I want you inside of me for that.”

“Jesus fucking christ.”

Eddie fumbles with his belt buckles as you giggle, chastising- “Hush and mind your manners, Munson. That’s blaspheming and we’re about to fuck in a church.”

“I’ll show you manners.” Eddie has his pants and briefs shoved to mid-thigh before you can draw breath to tell him off; one hand smears precum down the shaft of his ruddy cock as the other pushes your dress up and hooks your panties to the side.

You’re wet and worked up enough that he slides into the heat of you with ease, breath punching out with the way his cock completely fills you. When Eddie pulls out and sinks back in, you let out a keening whine and scrabble for purchase on his leather jacket.

“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it-” his voice is a dark rumble, each word punctuated with a snap of his hips, the squelch of your slick walls responding. “So wet for me. That’s my good girl. You like gettin’ off to being mine, huh, angel?”

You nod, head lolling against the window, and Eddie grins wicked even though you can’t see it. “Come on. Show me whose pussy this is.”

When his hand snakes between your bodies to press against your clit with his thumb, you come with a long, strained whimper, ankles crossing at the small of Eddie’s back to draw him closer while the velvet walls of your cunt spasm.

Eddie’s free hand shoots out to the supporting wood arch of the window for stability as he angles his hips up, longing for that glossy honey-eyed look you get sometimes: and there it is, your eyes half-lidded and brow pinched in pleasure as his cock hits against that gummy spot, the tremble of your thighs locked around his waist as your orgasm peaks.

Once he’s fucked you through the height of it, Eddie dips to bite at the taut muscle where your neck and shoulder meet, clamping down on the words threatening to flood out as his hips stutter. He comes hard, deep groan muffled into your neck, curses and praises spilling out in mindless babbling: “Fuck fuck, angel, that’s it, honey, shit, you’re so wet. All for me, huh, baby? Doin’ so good…”

He sags into your arms, pinning you to the window, chests heaving in tandem as you both catch your breath. You stroke a hand down his back, towards his ass, and then to the edge of his pants.

When he realizes that you’re trying to tuck him back into his clothes he whines at you, but you’re quick to shush him. “We’re cuttin’ it close with timing already, Eds. Help me out?”

Reluctantly, Eddie pulls away from the wet warmth of you to re-dress. Once his belt is in place he attends to you, helping shift the hem of your dress back down, rubbing his finger lightly under the skin of your eye where some mascara had smudged.

“I’ll double back for the keys and we’ll go home, ‘kay?” Eddie says, nose nudging into your cheek. “Wait here. You got some wicked marks and everyone will know we just fucked.”

“Pfft. No they won’t. Who would actually fuck in a church?” You push Eddie back playfully, hopping down from the sill with a wink. “You’ve gotta be sick to do that. Good thing my family believes you to be a perfect goody-two-shoes.”

Eddie stares as you make for the doors back to the courtyard, shrugging off his incredulity- “Eddie. It’s fine. So they’ll think we made out a bit. Who cares? Not me. And plus…” here you trail off and point, mischievous, Eddie’s eye’s following the line to his sock feet- “...you kinda have a no-shoes situation goin’ on. Gotta fix that.”

When you disappear through the doors, Eddie slams a palm to his chest, in awe- then feels the outline of the lighter in his inner pocket. With a practiced twist, he has it out and lit in a second, holding the flame to the wick of a votive candle.

“I don’t know how these candles work, exactly, or if atheists are allowed to…” Eddie clears his throat, glances over his shoulder to confirm you’re still out of earshot, then whispers above the flickering light: “Please let this be real life and not just some high-fueled fantasy because this is kind of huge for me. Okay thanks. Amen, or whatever.”

Eddie blows out the candle like it’s a birthday wish then hurries to catch up with you, sock feet silent against the wood floor as he calls out your name- “Slow down and have a heart, babe, I’ve got no grip!”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #weed mention #tw weed

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hwajin · 6 months

Text

☆°. — ᴛɪʀᴇʟᴇss

genre: fluff, smut

pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader

wc: 3k

warnings: disgustingly cute sex, piv/ unprotected sex/ coming inside, explicit mentions of insecurities (though mentioned in the past and not relevant for the fics' present)

author's note: very self indulgent but i hope it resonates with some ppl, feedback is highly appreciated 🫶

Linen sheets around your body, the warmth they provided a saviour against the cold turmoiling outside. The sky had been gray twenty minutes prior, red and orange leaves having struggled to stay latched onto their trees, having lost the battle eventually to cover the asphalts in autumn colours. There was little rain drizzling from above still, though the sun had now found its way past the clouds drowning the neighbourhood golden. The faint scent of vanilla reminding you of the candle on your nightstand, the turning of pages and a sharpened pencil against them the only sound filling the room — it was peaceful.

"You're so pretty."

Hyunjin’s voice sounded barely as a whisper — anything but would have disturbed the atmosphere; quiet, warm, a sense of carelessness. And yet you jumped in your place, been far too engrossed in the book laying before you not to scare at his sudden voice cutting through the silence. You'd never feel pretty before Hyunjin. Before he's emerged in your life — you weren't sure still, how exactly, all too suddenly and without warning, as though he was a dream altogether — your appearance was something you'd obsessively worry over for the first half of your life, and tried to disregard entirely in the second one — despite blaming your loneliness on the very fact of lacking attractiveness you've come to simply live with the fact, had grown too tired to care, essentially.

You shifted in your shared bed, only a little to direct your focus from the book to Hyunjin, sitting by his desk — the surface as messy as his appearance. Pencils, papers and colors scattered all over, his hands proof of the artistry he's produced for the past hours; hair disheveled, shirt and shorts on his body ruffled up — he looked endearing, like lazy mornings personified, like coziness bundled up within a body.

He'd come into your life unexpectedly, and you wouldn't have believed anyone if they told you about it. About the sudden happiness the relationship with Hyunjin brought, the sudden feeling of securances, of home; of love. You wouldn't have believed someone to be ready to treat you the way Hyunjin did — any other person grew null to him if you only called, prioritizing you over passions and work. You wouldn't have believed to have found a love like this, a lover like him.

You wouldn't have believed to have found beauty within yourself, through him. And it had come naturally. You had never not believed him, never doubted his words — because they've always been spoken so matter-of-factly, so purely. Unexpectedly, too — much like now, while mundanenity lay over your features. Hyunjin carried a gift to search for beauty where other people would mind looking, and finding it effortlessly. More often than not you wished to be gifted with this vision, curious to see the world through his eyes — curious to see yourself the way he did.

Hyunjin chuckled at the way you blushed. You might be believing his every compliment, his every confession of love, though you long didn't grow used to it, or cold. Every tender word, every touch he planted onto your body as though you were fragile porcelain, most price treasure yet never stopped to send shivers down your spine. Wouldn't ever, you thought.

And you still never knew an answer. Flustered now, awkward as he kept looking at you, teasing simply, to test — Hyunjin had always taking amusement and certain pride in making you shy for him, because only he was able to. A shameful caugh left your throat, to fill the silence, to camouflage the speechlessness he'd brought upon you with as little as a compliment — you detangled from the linen sheets, letting the cold engulf you in order to make your way over to your lover, the man who was watching your every step with a knowing smirk as he inspected the blush covering not only your cheeks but the tips of your ears, your neck — it was a little as a mundane compliment, but it was far from meaningless to you, held as much importance as if Hyunjin had proposed right then there.

His hand found home on your bottom, the small of your back when you've stood next to him eventually. His eyes didn't lose your figure, glued onto you as if a look elsewhere would take you away.

"What are you drawing? Flowers?"

Hyunjin enjoyed painting nature; oceans, skies, flowers. Many grazed the walls of your very room, each a different meaning – he’d paint you baby’s breaths on your one-year anniversary, in everlasting love; he’d paint you pink camellias when he missed you, in longing; he’d paint you calla lilies if your insecurities got the best of you, in beauty. Though when you looked at his drawing it weren’t flowers; it was a sketch of you.

“Well, almost.”

Hyunjin's eyes turned to where you were looking, the drawing he's worked on for the past minutes, shy grin adorning his features at his cheesy comment. Your body was grazing the white paper, pencil strokes of your curves, you in the nude, another paper showing your face, a portrait, another one an abstract, more of only your eyes, only your mouth and nose, of your hands, some in colour, some in simple grey, small ones, bigger, doodles, proper paintings. You were scattered on his desk, your body was. Hyunjin's love lay open before you — maybe you didn't need access to his vision after all. His art was entirely enough.

Hyunjin waited for a reaction, squeezing at your hip when there was none, looking up at you, curious eyes beneath the silver strands of messy hair.

"I've been running out of ideas lately, and... it's always nice to draw you... most of these aren't finished and rough-"

"They're beautiful. I... can't believe you'd wanna draw me this often."

"You're the only thing I wanna draw. Ever."

Hyunjin's gaze lay upon you, deep, waiting for you to look at him. You did eventually, turning from away from his art and blushing momentarily at his piercing eyes on your own. A soft smile from both of you — not as much as an upturn of one corner of the lips, both for too flustered to muster up and actually smile, too aware of the tension laying heavily now on your shoulders — and no further words were needed. Would be void if spoken aloud; so you bent down to meet him to meet his lips, hopeful and wanting, inviting when they fell upon your own. Hyunjin sighed into the kiss, relieved, longing. His left hand joined his right on your body, holding you by your waist, caressing you at your hips, tight, secure touches, absent of hesitation. He granted you the same love capsulated in his notebooks with a touch, a grace, a squeeze against your flesh, your whole.

Never breaking the kiss, and you sighed when he pulled you closer to his body, into the space he presented between his half-bare legs. You understood — wouldn't have believed anyone upon hearing to be finding comfort on another’s' lap, without as much as a second thought, though it was so natural with Hyunjin. You let him guide you, large hand by the small of your back, another by your hip; and you straddled him, broke the kiss only to settle down, to get comfortable — and you wished you hadn't, for the side of your lover beneath your weight was almost too much to bear. Love behind his glassy eyes, adoration he only knew in connection to you, only ever felt if you were the matter. Gaze a longing one, jumping from your lips to your eyes and back down to your lips — but a puppy waiting for his treat, staring you down as if there was no other, nothing else existing beside you and your body, your face inches from his own.

You closed the distance again, unable to hold out on it — Hyunjin's lips reddened already, always so prone to sensitivity, to visible reaction to loving antics. His teeth clashed against your own, almost painful but not quite; you weren't careful, deemed to not have the time to — you needed him, and you needed him now.

"Baby... slow down."

It was Hyunjin to pull you back to reality, though not to clear-mindedness – you obeyed his words, not as much a command as a simple reminder; you loosened your grip on his hair, pulled away an inch, only enough to breathe, to sigh into his mouth that didn’t cease leaving open mouthed kisses against your own. Though your thoughts were but a fog, still, holding no clear picture beneath your lids except him, everything about him – pleasure-contorted face, though you merely sat on him, barely even moved atop his body; brows a furrowed line, creasing deeply in the middle, eyes soften and tender to paint contrast; cheeks coloured, in fluster and anticipation, dooming excitement; guiding hands on your figure, reminding of his presence, his attentiveness, his care – he didn’t loosen his grip on you a moment, held you close and tight as his lips moved leisurely against your own. He took his time with you – not too tease, not because he was well aware of your desperation, but because you deserved nothing else. Hyunjin knew you’d whine upon his patience, though it was the very proof of his devotion; his patience held love, his patience held the entirety of your world.

So, you continued slowly, though not any less unable of lucidity, because Hyunjin never allowed it. If his touch wasn’t driving you insane it was his voice, a whimper rolling off his tongue and onto yours, or a sigh leaving his throat for you to swallow. Your lover always receptive, never shy in volume. Or it was his gaze on you – Hyunjin pulled away, occasionally, leaving you empty to catch a look at you before pulling right back, nearer than he was before. He left you no time for coherence, fed you only enough care and affection so you wouldn’t hunger, yet not enough for eventual satisfaction, by any means. Driving you further to insanity, hands groping rougher at your body, easing with soft rubs right after, teeth sinking into your bottom lip to heal momentarily with a lick, a following kiss – Hyunjin pulled on your every weakness, and not accidently.

A chuckle left the man’s lips when your hips – hot and painfully ignored by any type of his attention, leave for his raging erection right against your core – dragged against his own, in any hope of relieving pressure, of searching for friction. Your lack of clothes wasn’t making it a hard task; you were merely in your underwear, the thin material of Hyunjin’s shorts and boxers barely layers to complain about, yet it was far too much separating him from you.

Hyunjin chuckled at your desperateness, though his proclamation of amusement turned into one of pleasure – you grinded with such force, such wanting vigour he didn’t expect, and his own futilely cool act crumbled in his palm, shattered to pieces for you never not had the greatest impact on him, his pleasure, his love. When it came down to it, he wasn’t any stronger than you, not even more patient – his heart was as much slave to you as yours was to him.

Any composure was long forgotten. You’d argue, even, that Hyunjin by now was needier than you’d been to begin with – he didn’t waste time getting rid of either of your lazy attire, a long, slender finger simply pushing your panties to the side before dipping into your wetness, experimentally at first, with new-found enthusiasm then upon your reaction – you hummed out, fingers fisting his lose-fitting shirt, body rolling into his, in search for more. A second finger after a minute or two, a third one moments later and you were grinding against him, needy, loud, head thrown back or hidden in the crook of his neck. Your hot breath against his skin egged Hyunjin on, his digits curling within you, lips turning into a hazy smirk when you whined out, when your teeth sunk into the part between his shoulder and his neck, in helplessness, not in embarrassment over your sounds – you would never deny Hyunjin your voice in pleasure. The stinging feeling on his skin made him twitch in his confines; you felt it, if only subtly, and your eyes found his from beneath, fogged with bliss.

“Want you…”

It needn’t much more – Hyunjin both understood and was ready to comply for he wasn’t much stronger in resisting than you; it wasn’t a minute until his erection lay exposed between your figures, red and leaking already – he could act as coy as he wanted to, though his body would always serve as living proof of your effects on him.

You lined up, still fully dressed, white panties pushed to the side; hovering above him was hard given current position, legs growing tired quickly though Hyunjin supported enough with his hands by your hips, guiding you above him until you felt his tip by your entrance, until you – finally, eventually – sunk down on him, taking him fully momentarily. You moaned out in unison, almost pathetic, definitely frantic – it needed only the feeling of his cock inside you, of your walls around him for the both of you to fall victim to utter senselessness. You had the comfort of each other, though, aware of the similarity in lust and longing, so less embarrassed by it.

Hyunjin had given you a moment to adjust, had used the minute to clear his mind himself; to little avail, though he’d like to believe he gained back a fraction of the composure he had lost along the way. Yet, and it drove him entirely insane, the view of you was powerful enough to make him lose every battle he was fighting with himself – he watched your seemingly struggling face, eyes shut, mouth agape, lost in the pleasure Hyunjin granted. He prided himself on your expression, on your thoughtlessness; and then you opened your eyes again, locking them directly with his own. You both blushed, you both sucked in a breath, at the sudden realization of intimacy, of closeness, or maybe at nothing in particular, at the view of the other, the sight of your lover; your hips started moving, mewls rolling off tongues, eyes closing again in granted relief. Hands on bodies, groping hopelessly, feverishly. Eyes fighting to stay open to watch, to inspect, to remember. Mouths longing for the other, tongues dancing waltzes, sounds of pleasure being swallowed to make each their own. Two lovers on a late noon, two lovers so very engrossed in each other anyone looking upon them would struggle not to believe in souls, the connection of such.

Every flutter of your sensitive walls, every roll of chasing hips, every clench Hyunjin reciprocated with sounds so endearing they got you light-headed, got your urge growing to grant him more, better, greater. None of you were in control, in particular, and yet both of you were fighting for it — though not in selfishness, but for gratification for the other. Despite your cramping legs, positioned uncomfortable on the chair beneath Hyunjin, despite your inability to even move much you did nevertheless, as best as you could, pulling on all of your lovers' buttons — you nibbled at his neck, breathed out against it, swore confessions against his damp skin; everything you knew would drive him needier, more insane. Though he was the same — he throbbed within you, guided your hips along his erection for you to feel entirely, to drag out the feeling of his every vein grazing your walls, of every of his rigid fitting your own like pieces of a puzzle. His hands, though sweaty and strained, held position at your hips, to stabilize, to ease off the pain in your legs. Your own were homeless, playing with Hyunjin's hair right by his nape or pulling at his scalp when he granted a mindless thrust against you, or exploring his body entirely, grasping fingers on his chest, against his torso, on the steadiness of broad shoulders.

You grew impatient. Had never been in the first place and lost some more of it yet, wanted to hold onto the feeling of Hyunjin prodding at your cervix yet urging release. Hyunjin was no different – he had let you move solely on your own before though now snapped his hips into yours, mouth agape or biting at his deep red lips, sucking in breaths and sighs of your name in anticipation. His grip on you would leave marks on your skin, that you were sure of – though you weren’t one to complain. The telltale signs of his high doomed on you; furrowed brows, twitching erection within you, frantic, passionate, messy, wet kisses against your mouth or your neck; the act of pulling you closer to him – and then the words, finally; “Fuck, baby, I’m– …I’m cumming. I’m gonna cum.”, before he did, spilling within you. He hadn’t waited on your release, only because he knew you’d reach it after his own – he had felt you being close, had noticed the fluttering of your walls around him, your calls of his name increasing in pitch and volume, had seen the expression on your face he’d never misread – and he knew his orgasm inside you would bring you to your own, would be the last push down the cliff.

Your muscles spasmed, your legs contracted and Hyunjin held you close, eased the pain off your legs with a tired grip on you. Despite it you didn’t dare get off, though – basking in your closeness, relishing the warmth of body on body, losing yourself in the giggled kisses Hyunjin now planted on your panting lips, the loving confessions spoken against the lobe of ear before it was nibbled on in adoration – affection never stopped after release with Hyunjin, after the reach of simultaneous orgasm; his love expanded the sheer physicality, mere lust.

Hours later you’d lay in bed again, naked then, bare bodies glued to one another, every painting, every drawing of you on Hyunjin’s desk long forgotten, if only temporarily, for the cleverest artist couldn’t possibly copy the beauty Hyunjin saw in you before his very eyes, every day anew; tirelessly.

@es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @bintificreads @svintsandghosts @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus @junebug032 @noellllslut @wolfennracha @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife @binniesbang

#hyunjin smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin imagines #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #hwang hyunjin smut

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