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insfiringyou · 2 years

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BTS - Pottery Class (Max x Cassandra) & (V x Da-eun)

Contains: smut, fluff, first meetings.

Set a month following Christmas Morning, Cassandra and Max go on a date.

You can find out more about our headcanon universe and ongoing storyline here and more about our headcanon girlfriends here.

To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM / Jin / Suga / J-Hope / Jimin / V / Jungkook & our full masterlist of fanart and fanfictions can be found here

If you wish to follow all member’s storylines in chronological order from the beginning, you can find them listed here.

Rated content below the cut

Max smiled as he tucked in the edges of the small, blue shirt; its miniature size almost comical on the child’s small frame. Gabriel was surprisingly still for him, though his hips wriggled when he got to the back, rocking from side to side in his likewise scaled-down boots which Cassandra had tied carefully for him earlier, making sure to double-knot. Looking up, he could only see the back of her head; her long, dark waves cascading down the back of her dress where the ends skimmed the edge of her waistband; the navy garment cinched in with a tie belt. She was waiting at the window, fingering the edges of the plain, dark curtains expectantly and it wasn’t until Max drew up to his full height and touched her shoulder gently she turned around with a little, startled jolt. Her eyes moved from him to her child, almost apprehensively.

“Is he ready?” She asked.

Max nodded. “Looking smart. Is his bag packed?”

She nodded, gesturing towards the hallway. “All ready.” Looking back, she drew away from the sill quickly. “I think that’s his car.”

Automatically, Max bent down to address the child, knowing full-well the shirt would likely be covered in food by the end of the day, but appreciating the amusingly formal attire Cassandra had picked out for him. Despite his age, it already suited him and he undeniably looked stylish, or as stylish as it was possible for a three year old to look. “Are you ready to go?” He asked with a smile, an exaggerated excitement evident in his tone.

The child grinned, clutching his hands together at his chest. “Yes!”

His expression was contagious and Max smoothed his dark hair lightly, teasing a curl. “Good boy. You’ll be good for your dad won’t you?”

His arms outstretched, holding them out to the taller gentleman. “Daddy!”

Max’s expression softened as Cassandra moved between them, reaching for his hand and steering her son towards the hallway.

“Daddy’s waiting outside for you.” She corrected, giving Max a knowing look as he held back, allowing her to answer the door. He busied himself in the living room as he heard the twist and click of the lock, wanting to give them some privacy. There was a clutter of toys on the floor and he scooped them up one by one as Cassandra’s voice drifted through the gap in the door.

“He’s got everything he needs.”

“How’s he been?” A familiar voice said, stifled a little by the sound of the street outside as a car drove past.

“...up all night. You’ll probably get some quiet time.” She sounded tired and Max wondered whether that had been the primary cause for her anxious demeanour this morning. After making them breakfast she had been pacing a little, running her hands through her long locks as she watched the clock. Then again, they hadn’t been on a date in god knows how long, if ever. He wasn’t sure whether those brief coffee breaks had counted as dates, while Cassandra watched Gabriel in the play area of the cafe with one eye. Nor those classes he ran after hours, where they both had time to talk, while the baby, only a year old at the time, had sat asleep in his car seat in the corner; tucked in tightly the way he liked which seemed to prevent him from waking up and crying. Being alone together was a luxury they had only been granted recently, while his father took him out for the day, and often it involved them cleaning the house before crashing on the sofa together until it was time to pick him up. Overnight stays had been a lifesaver, allowing Cassandra the time to sleep off her exhaustion from the day before and giving them a chance to be intimate. She had been cautious at first, worrying the child would ask for her and not wanting to leave him for so long, but she had been getting better at that. Taehyung was reassuring and Gabriel always returned with a smile on his face. Perhaps she was fretting needlessly.

“Has he eaten?” Max heard the man say, but her reply was cut off by another passing car.

“...some snacks.” She paused. “Just wait until he’s hungry.”

He could almost picture the man’s sombre nod, he always seemed so serious. “I got a new car seat.”

“Good, he was outgrowing the old one.”

Max detected the small smile in her voice before she hesitated, growing quiet.

“Is that her?”

He didn’t hear the response but his ears pricked up interestedly, suspecting he knew who she was talking about. He was a little surprised; the other man only spoke of her briefly during conversations and she had never, to his knowledge, accompanied him on his visits.

“Is she shy?” Cassandra asked, not unkindly.

“...better if she waited.” Taehyung said, the first half of the sentence obscured and lost as the pair moved away from the doorway and into the street.

“I don’t bite.” Cassandra said softly, her voice clearer; the lilting rises and falls of her accent more familiar to him. “She can come and say hello.”

The door was left open but he could no longer hear the exchange as they seemingly walked away, towards the car. Max considered moving to the window to catch a glimpse of the young woman in question; suddenly curious as to what she looked like, but decided against it, distracted instead by the throw on the sofa which had come loose from its tucked-in confines and the scatter of pillows which had fallen to the floor. When he straightened up, satisfied the room looked presentable, Cassandra’s voice returned as she handed the other man the small rucksack she had packed earlier.

“Have fun…” She said gently, the tone of her voice unreadable among the background noise, followed by the sound of the door closing. He turned to the hallway door as she walked into the room, his eyes drawn to the fabric of her dress which wrapped around her body elegantly. The belt, tightly drawn in accentuated her hips and bust; the small glimmer of cleavage attractive and a little sexy. It was different to what she usually wore around the house; though her plain blue jeans always seemed sexy to him too, in an understated way. He sometimes wondered how she managed to pull them off so effortlessly. She smiled appreciatively, noticing he had tidied up, and he felt a shift in her mood. Perhaps having Gabriel dressed and out of the house had put her more at ease.

“Do you want to get changed?” He asked cheerfully, feeling his own emotions lifting along with hers.

She looked down, brushing the edge of the fabric with her long, spindly fingers. “Should I dress up?” Her eyebrows knitted together and he shook his head softly.

“I was thinking you might want to wear something you don’t mind getting messy.” He clarified.

Her smile widened. “I don’t tend to get messy.”

Max laughed, walking over and talking her hand in his. “But I’m not so good.” He admitted. “You can wear something of mine.”

She hesitated, fingers loosely wrapped around his, but eventually she nodded. “If you insist.”

***

She had taken him up on the offer and paired one of his plain, band tees with her dark skinny jeans; hair tied back in a long ponytail to keep it out of the way. Max had been grateful, when his first attempt on the wheel had caused somewhat of a mess to the point he drew away from the spinning device and turned his attention instead to creating something a little more modest. Cassandra peered at the table in front of them with an amused smile.“What’s that supposed to be?”

He looked up, moving his palms away from the clay so she could see. “A turtle.” He blinked seriously. “Can’t you tell?”

She laughed at his expression as it changed, dropping the act. “Maybe if I squint.”

His smile widened and he leaned over to peck her cool cheek, lips tingling at the contact. “You’re too cruel…”

She turned her attention back to the wheel which she started again with a press on the pedal, smoothing the edges of the pot artfully and with an ease he admired. “It’s head looks kind of phallic.” She added mischievously, casting a playful glance in his direction.

He sighed dramatically, eyeing the misshapen lump between his hands with mock disappointment. “Maybe you’re right.”

Her eyebrow crooked. “An ex lover perhaps?”

He grinned easily. “Never this crooked.” He admitted, turning his attention to her as he watched her hands move, almost sensually, along the vase she was creating. It was beautiful to see, how it formed so easily beneath her palms, like she had been doing it all her life. “Have you seen one like this?” He cheerfully asked, a little mockingly.

She shook her head, turning to face him dead on. “Not for a while.”

His head snapped back in laughter, causing a few glances from the opposite side of the room where a few students worked at their own wheels, thankfully at a distance where he doubted they could overhear their conversation. He vaguely wondered if they could speak English. He noticed that despite their formal overgarments, their skill paled in comparison to hers and he voiced his approval happily. “Yours is coming out beautifully.” The corners of her lips upturned in a thankful smile and he pressed on. “I’ll get you some flowers.”

“Thank you.” She murmured gently. “It’ll be spring soon. Tulips would be nice.”

The sound of her voice made his stomach warm pleasantly and he edged his seat a little closer to her. “You’re good with the wheel.”

She paused her movement, bringing the wheel to a stop as she offered him a place. “Why don’t you have a go?”

He paused, a timid smile on his lips. “You saw my attempt earlier...”

Reaching down, she moved the stool aside, giving him room. “I’ll show you…” She protested lightly. “Sit here.”

Hesitantly, he moved the small stool in front of her and sat down, realising he was blocking her view and moving aside a little to give her space beside him. Her hands moved to his, touching them gently as she moved them towards the tall vase, its sloping curves almost echoing her own, and encouraged him to press down with a little more force than he expected. Feeling more secure, he activated the pedal which allowed the smooth clay to spin between his palms, allowing her to guide his hands where needed. They fell silent for a moment; the low chatter from across the room fading into the background, though he noticed a few quick glances in their direction. Perhaps his appearance was novel to them; an unusually tall, pale-haired man with the first, stubbly shadow of a beard being led by a woman who managed to make a pair of jeans look like the epitome of fashion.

“Isn’t this romantic?” She commented, a little dreamily, breaking his trail of thought.

He looked up, a shy smile on his lips. “Maybe if we were alone.”

“They aren’t paying attention.” She dismissed, moving his hands down smoothly; the clay running slipperily between their connected fingers.

“I’ve got it.” He reassured, encouraging her to move away as he took hold of the vase and continued to shape it on his own. She moved back, and he thought he sensed a twinge of disappointment in her expression. Either way, it quickly disappeared as she adjusted the stool next to the table and picked up the diformed turtle distractedly.

“I used to have my own wheel…” She said quietly, thinking. “I don’t know what happened to it.”

He slowed down his movement, bringing the machinery to a stop before looking at her. “Maybe you could get another.”

She shrugged, looking disinterestedly at the object in her hand. “I was attached to my old one…they are quite expensive.”

“Did you make many things?” He asked.

She was quiet for a moment, before shaking her head to herself. “I must have misplaced them.”

The sound of footsteps made them both turn towards the female instructor who walked past their table, signalling she was ready to collect the vase.

“When will they be ready?” Cassandra asked politely in Korean.

“You can collect next week.” The older woman replied, allowing Max to give her space as she worked on the wheel.

“Why does it take so long?” Max asked Cassandra, sticking with English.

“They have to allow it to dry.” She explained in Korean, almost automatically.

“If you want to glaze it you can attend our class next week.” The lady offered.

Cassandra turned to Max hopefully. “That would be nice.” She gestured towards the table, picking up a small ball of the dough-like substance and kneading it against the table with her fingers. “We still have a little left. I might make something quickly.”

Sensing the removal of the vase would take more time than anticipated, Max got up from the chair, allowing the instructor to sit down as she worked on trimming the edges around the bottom with a little wooden tool while he went to wash his hands in the large basin at the other side of the room. Looking down, he observed he had been right to dress down that day; his old jeans were covered in clay and he hoped he had remembered to pack some black garbage bags in the trunk of his car to line the seats when they returned home. Cassandra was chatting away to the instructor as she shaped the ball of clay with her hands, crafting it into a round dish and using a flat-edged tool to create a pattern around the rim. He took his time at the sink, making sure he cleaned his fingernails with the brush at the back before finally heading back towards Cassandra who looked at him with a pleased smile.

“What is it?” He asked.

She shrugged. “Just for trinkets. I like the edges.”

He peered at the pot amusedly. “An ashtray.” He commented, making her laugh.

“I haven’t seen those for a while.”

He shrugged. “Maybe you could start a business.”

She raised an eyebrow to herself, quickly finishing the last of the waved grooves in the brim “How very 90s…”

He took a spare seat beside her. “Are you having fun?”

“Yes.” She looked at him happily. “Are you?”

He smirked. “I think you are better than me.”

“That doesn’t matter.” She dismissed gently and he could see she meant it. His chest once again seemed warm beneath the surface of his skin as he realised how happy she seemed to be in the studio. He remembered seeing that look when they first met; how he had noticed it among his other students; her standing out like a bright star as she painted with the baby on her lap. “It’s nice being out together.” She continued. “Maybe you could start pottery classes at your art centre. That way we could come more often.” Cassandra asked hopefully.

“Mmm.” He murmured, appreciating her suggestion but already thinking of the mess he would have to clean up once the clay ended up in the more unskilled hands of his usual patrons. Looking back, he could see she had already turned her attention back to the sleek trinket tray which she was studying with interest.

“I think I’ll take this one home.” She murmured, getting slowly to her feet.

He picked up his own design, which seemed lumpy and juvenile in comparison. “Do you think Gabriel will like this?”

“The penis turtle?” She quipped dryly.

He smiled good naturedly. “Maybe he could paint it.”

Cassandra nodded. “That’s very sweet of you.”

***

Max had been waiting for her to finish her shower while he got changed into the clothes he had neatly folded in the bottom of her wardrobe. While he had not yet leased his apartment on the other side of town, he found himself staying with her more often than not, and the tall, flatpack piece of furniture was large enough to store both of their clothes along with some of Gabriel’s which no longer fit. Leaning back against the headboard, he checked his watch and was surprised to find it was only four in the afternoon. He had been up early to run the breakfast club at his centre, before returning home once the schools kicked in, and he felt drowsy from the long day. He closed his eyes against the bright light drifting through the window, napping lightly while he waited for Cassandra who he thought was taking longer than usual to clean herself up. Then again, she had been a little more enthusiastic with the clay than he was.

The sound of the bedroom door opening caught his attention and he looked up from the pillow, first noticing her shapely silhouette before his eyes focussed and he realised she was clothed in lingerie; an ivory bralette and suspender belt hugged her curves, while her legs were stockinged in sheer material; the garter a jewel-toned green which complimented the silk robe she wore loosely around her shoulders. The attire was old fashioned, but undeniably sexy; he had seen nothing like it, but she pulled it off as she had done the pottery; with an ease and comfort only she could. He was unable to help his grin as she walked towards the bed, her long, wavy hair framing her face and body as she came to a halt.

“Wow!” He exclaimed, resting his weight on his elbows as he sat up.

Her fingers touched the edge of the robe, easing it away from her breasts. “Do you like it?”

“I can’t wait to take it off.” He let out a long breath, already feeling himself stir as she paused at the foot of the bed, a smile tugging on her lips.

“I thought you might like to see me in it longer.” She shrugged.

Max laughed softly, adjusting his position to sit comfortably against the headboard. “Your body is too beautiful.” He explained, holding out his arms when she finally crawled on the duvet, welcoming her body in an embrace. She straddled his hips and he kissed her, opening his lips against hers as she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck.

“I’ve had a nice day.” She mused, pulling away to look at him. He captured her cheek in his palm, nodding.

“Me too.” He whispered, one hand moving to cup her covered breast tenderly. “I think it could get better…”

She smiled, leaning into his touch as he squeezed down; her nipple hard beneath the silky material as they kissed once more. He felt her tongue touch his lip and he opened his mouth invitingly, brushing it with his own as she rocked gently in his lap, encouraging him to swell in the tight confines of his jeans. He let out a groan and moved his other hand to her bra, massaging both breasts with his long fingers as he pushed them together before reaching around, beneath the robe, to unfasten the clasp. The material dropped between her arms and he felt beneath to touch her skin, brushing her nipples with the pads of his thumbs as she gasped into his mouth. Almost desperately, he eased the thin material from her shoulders and removed it along with her bra, dropping them both to the floor. The coolness of the room hit her skin and she pulled away; light goose pimples visible on her bare arms as she stopped her movement against him.

“I don’t think…” She started, speaking almost in a whisper. “I can’t remember taking my pill.”

There was a sense of urgency to her voice that encouraged him to move away from her breasts, instead placing his hands firmly against her waist. He thought for a moment, a frown burrowing across his features, before he nodded. “You did.”

She hesitated, biting her lip anxiously and shook her head. “I don’t remember…” She admitted, almost defeatedly. “I was packing.” She explained.

He thought back to this morning, trying to replay the scene as he got home from work and watched her get dressed. “I’m sure you did.” His forehead wrinkled, though he felt certain he had seen her take it.

She fell silent for a moment, before murmuring apprehensively: “Do you have a condom?”

He looked around automatically, eyes moving to the bedside table. “Somewhere.”

She nodded in relief. “I just want to be safe.”

“Of course.”

She pulled away, moving her weight from him as she got off the bed and searched through the chest of draws, raking through bobby pins and half-filled pots of moisturiser before she found what she was looking for. She pulled out a single packet, holding it delicately as she returned to the bed, dropping it on the covers where she could reach it again. “Do you mind?” She asked, looking straight at him. He sensed the worry in her voice and shook his head easily, confused as to why she would ask.

“Why would I mind?” He shrugged.

Satisfied, she smiled; changing her expression as she gestured to him with a single index finger. “Come here…” He sat up, moving forwards to grasp her hips and kiss her passionately as her palm brushed the centre of his crotch. “You’re so hard.” She whispered breathily against his lips, her voice sensual as she squeezed the shape a little roughly.

Max groaned, allowing her to unfasten the button which tied the material together. “You make me hard.” He admitted, lying back when she started work on the second button and eased the fabric away from his waist, pulling his jeans down enough to free his underwear which bulged heavily beneath her touch. Looking up, she met his gaze; tilting her face at an angle which made him twitch.

“Do you want my lips?” She asked, tugging eagerly at the waistband. He nodded, mouth parted as she freed him and wasted no time in wrapping her lips tightly around his reddened tip; her tongue getting to work on licking the precum which was seeping from him. His groans changed pitch at the contact, becoming almost a whine as she massaged the head with the flat side of her tongue; grasping him firmly in her hand which she twisted against her mouth. His groans turned to a series of pants as he watched her take him in more deeply, moving down his shaft which disappeared an inch at a time into her warmth. Almost guiltily, he uttered a cry, signalling he was about to overboil and she quickly withdrew, lightening her grasp and pulling away to remove her suspenders. The clasp on her garter belt was fiddly and Max took the time to calm down, grounding himself by looking away as she slid the sheer stockings down her legs and folded them neatly at the foot of the bed.

When he turned back, his breaths finally slowing, she was unwrapping the condom, tearing the packet carefully and unravelling it from its confines. He eyed her carefully, not wanting to get too worked up again, but couldn’t help casting a glance over her long legs, now bare, and the space between her thighs, where her dark pubic hair stood out against her otherwise pale skin. He sighed as she reached for him, pinching the tip of the condom and rolling it down with a firm hand.

“You should let me kiss you…” He protested, eyes still fixed on her cunt. She smiled, moving closer as she edged her body over his lower half.

“I want your cock.” She whispered, taking him in one hand while the other gently parted her lips. He watched, almost in fascination, as she lowered herself against him; his tip and shaft slowly disappearing into her warmth as she moved down, eyes tightly closed and mouth parted at the sensation. He threw his head back, partially in response to the sight of her biting her lip which sent a shiver down his spine and a moment later, she moved against him; raising her hips as she fucked him. “Do I feel good?” She asked, watching him lay back against the pillows; the sensation overwhelming.

“Yes.” He groaned, brow furrowing as she switched movements and began rocking against him, grinding her clitoris as her own breath grew heavy. He couldn’t pull his eyes from her as she worked herself to orgasm, letting out a few cries as her eyes bolted shut. A blush spread across her cheeks and bare chest; the contractions of her walls pulsating against him, squeezing him through the condom until he couldn’t take it anymore. With a cry of his own, much louder than hers, he felt himself let go; a sharp, shooting sensation milking him of his energy as he came inside the condom. Cassandra helped him ride it out, not moving against him until he sucked in his breath, a little sensitive as he felt himself soften inside her.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered breathily as she carefully moved up, pinching the base of his cock lightly between two fingers as he slipped out of her, almost regretfully.

“Was it good?” She murmured, allowing him to remove the condom while she sat back on her knees.

“It always is.” He nodded, knotting the slippery latex and discarding it with some energy in the trash can across the room. He looked back as she stepped off the bed, fully nude and glowing with her blush. Max joined her side, kissing her lips lovingly. “I’m so lucky.”

Cassandra watched as he pulled away and sleepily perched on the edge of the bed. “I should go pee.” She mumbled, leaving him alone in the room while he rubbed his tired eyes, trying to focus on the room but failing massively. He heard the sound of the chain flushing, followed by the running of the bathroom tap and he leaned back against the covers, tucking his legs onto the bed. His cock, now deflated, lay slightly curved against his thigh as he settled against the covers, closing his eyes for just a moment.

The sound of the draws opening beneath the wardrobe made him open them again as Cassandra slipped into a fresh pair of underwear; plain black and unfussy.

“Are you napping?” She smirked, looking up.

He nodded lazily, holding out his arms. “Join me.” He gently urged. “It’s been a long day.” Before he had time to see her response, his eyes had already shut, though he felt her weight against him some minutes later; her body warm and soft as she turned away to face the magnolia wall. He thought about spooning her, though couldn’t be sure whether his arm had actually moved before sleep enveloped him, drawing him down into the darkness.

Unlike Max, her orgasm; a little forced but pleasurable nonetheless, had caused her body to waken even more and she watched the shadows on the wall move with interest as the sun slowly changed positions in the sky; moving down as twilight drew near. His gentle snores eventually started behind her and she tucked herself closer to him, feeling his chest against her back; urging herself to join Max and to make the most of being able to sleep without the bedroom door creaking open every few hours as Gabriel tried to crawl into bed with her. It was sweet really, but meant she was only getting a few hours of shut eye at a time, and eventually he would have to learn how to sleep quietly on his own. Her mind turned to Taehyung and she wondered if he ever let Gabriel sleep in bed with him, or if it was only her who got the unique pleasure of interrupted nap time. Her mind pondered the thought for some time as Max shifted against her, adjusting his position before falling back asleep. She could feel his cock against her; stiffening in the place where it met her lower back, though her acknowledgement of it was vague. The wispy hairs on her arms and legs were raised in the cool temperature of the bedroom as the sun started to set, and she automatically hugged herself tighter, placing her hands between the warmth of her thighs, against the curls of her hair, as her mind drifted.

The more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed to her that Taehyung let Gabriel sleep with him. After all, he satisfied his every other whim. The thought should have made her angry; after all, he often went against her wishes when it came to treating him to things she herself had forbidden. Chocolate, it seemed, was never off the menu in the Kim household, nor were expensive gifts or trips to the zoo. But instead, there was something comforting about it. At the very least it meant he wasn’t immune to his tantrums and demands. Sometimes having a small child felt like she was being held captive by some miniature monster who wanted to cause her as much stress as was humanly possible. But also, she loved him, and wouldn’t have changed that, she realised, even if she had done certain things differently.

Wide awake, her mind continued to turn and she realised, somewhat reluctantly, that wherever Max had gone, she wouldn’t be able to follow any time soon. With some effort, she got to her feet and padded, light-footedly, across the floor towards the wardrobe, opening it as quietly as possible where she found the dress she had worn earlier, before she had been talked into changing, folded haphazardly on the bottom shelf. She slipped on a bra, followed by the dress and, realising how cold she was, reached for the silk robe lying on the wooden floor.

Behind her, Max stirred once more, rolling over on his side and giving a disgruntled snort. Her stomach churned guilty as she thought of him waking up alone, wondering where she was, and she padded back over to him lightly, giving his bare shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Max?” She whispered, having to repeat herself and tighten her grip a little before he grunted in response. “I’m going out for a bit.” She murmured, keeping her voice low.

He opened one eye groggily, offering a small moan. “Do you want me to go with you?” He eventually asked, voice thick and gruff.

“No…” She let go of his shoulder, wrapping the robe around her body. “You sleep.”

***

The traffic seemed to match her mood; absent and distant. She drove carefully, though got to her destination quicker than anticipated, looking around as she locked the car and walked around the corner. The porch had been painted since her last visit, some time ago, and she looked at the wooden reliefs with curiosity; the floral shapes tipped with subtle goldleaf in places where it had no right to be. Only someone eccentric or incredibly rich would choose such decoration in Seoul; it looked as though it belonged in some Georgian country house in the heart of Derbyshire. Still, the woodwork was undoubtedly oriental in design, and true to its origin. Perhaps the architect would have approved of the change. Her knock was light, and she wondered if he would hear it in such a lofty place. The walls were thick and ceilings tall in his house; just as he liked them. Music was bound to echo tirelessly. Still, she waited before trying again, a little apprehensive at showing up unannounced and wondering if he might still be out at the park with Da-eun; the small, politely timid girl she had met earlier. For the first time that evening, the thought became solid in her mind and suddenly her chest sank. She hadn’t considered she might be interrupting them and she almost turned to go, tucking her little handbag beneath her armpit, when the door opened softly behind her.

“Cass?” His voice was low and cast in doubt and she turned back, seeing him through the small crack in the door which he widened at once, revealing himself fully to her. He had changed since earlier. His black t-shirt was remarkably casual and at once familiar; the Joy Division print on the front one he had worn countless times before, when they first met. She wondered how he had somehow managed to keep hold of it, while all her belongings seemed to grow lost as easily as odd socks in the washing machine. He stepped aside. “What are you doing here?” Looking around, he gestured to her. “Quick, come in.”

She hesitated, almost frozen by the panic in his voice, before following him inside where he shut the door heavily. At once, she looked around - finding the hallway decor likewise unfamiliar. “Am I interrupting?” She asked. The gentle sound of music drifted from a distant room, signalling a moment disrupted, but he seemed confused by her comment.

“What?”

“Is Da-eun still here?” She clarified.

Realising what she meant, he shook his head. “She went home.” He confirmed, voice softening a little to match hers, though still laced with paranoia. “Are you alone?”

“Max is asleep.” She nodded, watching as his eyes moved across her robe where her hands were folded against her, still a little cold from the chilly evening air.

He frowned. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“I didn’t see anyone.” She confirmed, a little stubbornly. Her stomach seemed to churn at the tone of his voice, knowing he was protective but finding it all too much.

“I have neighbours Cass.” He hissed loudly.

She turned to him, eyes fixed against his as she raised her own voice. “And don’t you trust them?”

He sighed, realising what was happening and letting it go. Arguing with her now was the last thing he wanted to do and he lowered his voice, hovering awkwardly in the long hallway. “That’s not the point…” His folded arms mirrored her movement. “If there was a problem you could have called me. I’d have come.”

They fell silent, facing each other before she turned to the floor, realising she would have to explain her unexpected visit. He was waiting patiently, looking down at her until she spoke. “I just miss him.” She untucked her arms, looking up to read his expression.

Taehyung blinked, eyelashes long. “He’s asleep.” He murmured, almost apologetically.

“Oh…” She uttered, suddenly feeling at a loss.

Taehyung was silent for a while, before he turned towards the hall. “You’re here now.” He accepted, walking down the corridor without looking to see if she would follow. It wasn’t until they reached the door at the end she realised she had even moved. He pushed lightly on the wood and the music grew louder as he led her into the sitting room, where the space was cast in shadows by the two dimly lit lamps in each corner.

“Da-eun went home?” She asked again.

He nodded. “It’s her dad’s birthday.”

She saw the source of the tinny jazz; a record player, old and surprisingly battered, perched upon a table too small for it, beside the recognisable sofa where Taehyung had clearly been sitting. He moved aside the paperback on the chair to give her room, but she waited, looking around the space as she set her bag softly down on the floor.

“Did she get on with Gabriel?” Cassandra asked with some curiosity, eyes drawn to the busy wallpaper which seemed to cascade rather than hang across the room.

His lips twitched in a smirk. “Like a house on fire.”

She nodded with a smile, not really hearing him. “That’s good…you finished your decorating.”

He looked up, blinking. “Do you like it?”

She nodded. “It’s William Morris isn’t it?”

“I thought it would go with the curtains.” He confirmed, drawing her eye to the heavy, thickly lined drapes. She walked over to them, touching the fabric in appreciation. They were coloured a deep, almost tarnished gold; tied back with thick ropes which added to the look.

“They’re beautiful.” She nodded, slowly walking back across the room.

He watched her closely, eyebrows furrowed. “I could get you some.”

A doubtful sort of smile tugged at her lips as she joined his side, pausing a moment, before sitting on the colourful fabric. “I think they’re a little old fashioned for Max’s taste.” Cassandra admitted sheepishly. “He likes a more…” She tried to think of the word in Korean. “Contemporary look.”

“Sterile?” He offered seriously, and reluctantly she gave a smile, biting the inside of her cheek.

“You could say that…”

They fell silent for a moment, keeping a distance between them, though the stray thread in the middle of the tapestry pattern kept her distracted. She tried hard not to tug at it.

“How was your date?” He asked softly.

“Fine…” She turned to him. “How was yours?”

He gave a small laugh, thinking for a moment. “Our son did most of the entertaining.”

She nodded, looking up automatically, to where he was sleeping above their heads. “I was looking forward to getting to know her a little better.” Cassandra admitted.

“I think she was nervous to meet you.” He said gently, making her turn back towards him.

“Me?” She frowned. “Why?”

He grew silent, casting his eyes to the wooden floor before shrugging. “Maybe I left it too long.”

She sensed a touch of regret in his voice, and she touched his hand briefly, encouraging his gaze back to her. “I hope she knows I mean no harm.” Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper and his eyes met hers as they both stopped talking. The sound of jazz played in the background, turned down and not distracting from the otherwise silent room. She tucked a strand of hair neatly behind her ear, a question seeming to tingle on her tongue until she allowed it to escape. “Have you?” She asked cryptically, not needing to finish.

He nodded, his dark eyes cast in shadow by his long lashes in the softly lit room. “Yeah.” He admitted.

She didn’t know what answer she had expected, or whether she should have been surprised. Without thinking, her fingers moved to the stray strand on the sofa, running it absently between her fingers. His eyes followed her movement, knowing she probably hadn’t noticed, and he got slowly to his feet.

“Did you want a drink?” He asked.

Cassandra looked up and nodded. “Tea.”

She waited patiently for him to finish in the kitchen, watching the record spinning softly on the deck and wondering where he had picked up such a battered looking thing, before she remembered her bag. When he came back in the room, holding the small china mug carefully between his fingers, she was reaching into the tote and pulled out the small dish. “I made you something.” She said, holding it out to him once he set down the mug on the floor, finding there was no room on the table. “You’ll have to cure it yourself, do you still know that man with the kiln?”

He took it from her with both hands, turning it over but holding it with an appreciative delicacy. “What is it?”

“Max and I took a pottery class.” She offered in explanation. “I thought you could keep it on your vanity.”

He ran his fingers carefully along the edged rim, before setting it aside on the floor, careful to keep it away from where it might be trodden on. “Thank you.” He said, watching as she reached for her cup and blew on the liquid gently. “Did you want to take him back with you?” He asked, suspecting that this might be the purpose for her visit. He tried to hide the disappointment in his voice, but she shook her head, surprising him.

“No…I don’t want to disturb him.” She said. “It’s your time with him.”

He nodded thankfully. “I wish you could come around more…see his nursery.” Taehyung admitted, realising she had not seen it finished.

She looked at him beneath, a little blankly. “It’s you that’s paranoid.” Cassandra took a sip of the fragrant liquid, thankful for its warmth.

“For good reason.” He reiterated.

She shook her head. “You shouldn’t punish yourself.” She sighed. “We both made the baby.”

Her words made him fall silent and he sat back as she drank from the cup, his own fingers finding the stray strand as easily as hers had, and plucking it absently. “There’s a spare bedroom, if you ever wanted to stay.” He eventually said, wondering why he had never thought of it before.

“Max too?” She peered at him.

He nodded calmly. “Yes.”

Not knowing how to respond, she set the finished mug back on the floor, sitting back. “Maybe I could have you and Da-eun around too.” She suggested. “For dinner.”

“If you’d like.” He nodded.

Cassandra watched him get to his feet as he picked up the ceramic pot and walked over to the table in the corner, setting it down next to an oval-shaped mirror. She suspected she might have overstayed her welcome, but found herself finally starting to tire. The sofa was comfortable, despite its age, and the song on the player was one she vaguely recognised though couldn’t quite place. “What’s this one?” She asked, gesturing towards the device when Taehyung looked her way.

“Do you not like it?” He asked, moving to turn it off. Despite being upbeat, the song seemed a little melancholy and reminded her of the past. She wondered if she might have heard it back in Belgium. Her parents liked to play jazz and there had been one bar they enjoyed frequenting with her which played it incessantly, allowing her a solitary sip of wine despite her young age.

“Leave it.” She requested, waving her hand dismissively. There was something nostalgic about it, and she felt her heart begin to race, almost in excitement. She could imagine people dancing to it during the war; carefully-patched dresses and painted-on stockings filling a simple looking dancefloor as the women waited for the men to return home.

The music swayed in a quickening beat, and Taehyung smiled in acknowledgement. “It’s one of my favourites.” He admitted, hesitating, before moving his arms in time to the music. She laughed softly, realising he was dancing to it, a little bashfully at first, before becoming less self conscious. He moved across the room, feet tapping against the hardwood floor as he gestured for her to join him. She smiled, shaking her head.

“It’s been a while since I danced.” She admitted, though took his hand when he offered it and got to her feet. He moved his shoulders, letting go of her as he moved back across the floor. “I’m not joining in!” She warned, unable to help the smile in her voice at her second hand embarrassment. Had they been in public, she’d have chastised him for such shamelessly cringey moves, though being alone made it all the more awkward.

“You always join in.” He teased, and she sighed heavily, realising that if history was anything to go by, he was right. There was never a time where she had passed up the opportunity to dance when the occasion or track called for it.

“Am I that predictable?” She asked, making him cock an eyebrow knowingly. The music grew faster as the trumpets pumped along with the honky-tonk piano and she found herself moving along with him, bending her knees a little as she moved her arms in time with his, removing the robe and dropping it to the sofa to allow more movement. Like him, she felt embarrassed at first, but his own lack of awareness inspired her, and soon she was spinning on the spot, swaying her head and moving her hips.

He kept his distance for a while, but the crashing conclusion almost begged for a spin and she offered her hand to him, allowing him to twirl her around until she felt dizzy. Her laughter filled the room as the song switched over, the upbeat sound replaced with something a little more slow and dreamy. He hushed her, pressing his finger to his own lips, though he was laughing too. “You’ll wake the baby.”

She calmed down, fixing a strand of hair that had fallen from behind her ear, tucking it back in neatly. “He’s not a baby anymore.” She admitted, a little soberly.

Taehyung’s smile dropped along with hers, though his expression was soft. “He’ll always be my baby.”

She nodded. “Mine too.”

Her breathing a little heavy, she turned towards the sofa, sitting down heavily and smoothing down the front of her dress, tucking it between her knees. He watched her, their faces equally flushed with warmth. “Do you want another?” He eventually asked, not knowing why.

Cassandra looked at him, knowing at once what he meant and thinking for a long time. “I don’t know.” She eventually said.

The room suddenly seemed more dim and he looked to the window, where an overgrown tree mostly blocked the view to the outside world. The sky had grown dark and it looked cold outside, a direct contrast to the glowing warmth and cosiness within the room. “Won’t Max be wondering where you are?” He asked quietly, making her follow his gaze.

She slowly nodded, giving an involuntary shiver. “I should probably go.” She slipped the garment over her shoulders, hugging it closely to her as she got to her feet and collected her bag, suddenly realising she had no idea why she had come in the first place. Looking at Taehyung, she recognised he too was asking the same question, and she found herself awkwardly feeling a little stupid.

“I’ll kiss Gabriel for you.” He reassured her, waiting for her to lead the way.

She nodded gratefully. “Let me know when you’re ready to bring him back.”

Realising he was waiting for her to make the first move, she stepped out of the room and walked down the hall, trailing her small bag absently behind her until she reached the door and turned back.

“Be careful driving.” He warned and she knew he was talking about more than just the traffic.

“I will.”

He smiled, opening the door for her. “I love the ashtray.”

Looking down at her feet, her cheeks reddened but she laughed in response. “It wasn’t supposed to be an ashtray.” She admitted.

“I’m sure I can find a use for it.” He touched her shoulder lightly before pulling away.

“Thanks for the company.” She nodded.

“You’re welcome.”

***

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say-al0e · 1 month

Text

Movie Night

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18, Minors DNI!

Summary: You've been crushing on Eddie Munson for ages. When you finally ask him over to a watch a movie, you learn that your feelings are definitely requited. Warnings: General mention of Eddie's reputation/being mistreated for said reputation, protected PinV, oral (m receiving). Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader Word Count: 7.8k (it got away from me, my bad)

“I think I’m going to ask him out.”

Steve, who had been sorting through tapes on autopilot - huffing at each return that needed to be rewound, muttering under his breath each time your perch on the counter jeopardized his precarious pile of returns - lifted his head at the sound of your voice.

A quick glance around the store reminded him that it was empty, save for the two of you, Dustin Henderson, and Eddie Munson. It was obvious that you weren’t talking about Dustin and he knew you weren’t talking about him - been there, done that; be kind, don’t rewind.

The only logical conclusion was Eddie and that pulled a grimace from Steve as he spared your one-time classmate a weary glance.

Across the store, Eddie watched as Dustin - with flailing limbs and grinning lips - sorted through tapes in search of a film neither you nor Steve had ever heard of. He looked amused, eyes wide and bright as he listened to Dustin, and it brought a soft smile to your lips that Steve quickly erased.

“You’re going to ask out Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?” Steve shuddered, as if he couldn’t bear to think about it - only a little exaggerated, a little dramatic in a way he often teased Dustin for - and shook his head as he transferred his pile to the cart. “Why would you do something like that?”

Though Steve had made great strides in shedding the high school persona he’d spent so long clinging to - he was no longer the Grade-A douchebag he once was - there were still moments of reflexive snobbery that made you roll your eyes. It didn’t help that there was an undercurrent of jealousy, spurred by Dustin’s newfound Eddie worship, but he seemed to realize his mistake as he held up a hand in apology.

“He’s cute.” There was a defensive bite to your tone, sharp and pointed - a derisive huff that made Steve raise a brow - as you spared the pair a glance.

Though most wouldn’t believe it, you’d always found Eddie cute. When he returned to school your junior year (his first senior year) with longer hair, wearing a leather jacket, you’d been drawn to him immediately. There was something about him that enchanted you - his hair, his smile, his big brown eyes, his theatrics, his give-no-fucks attitude - and saddled you with one of the biggest crushes you’d ever had.

Despite the years of pining, you never acted on it. Eddie never gave you much reason to believe your feelings might be requited, other than the time you caught him checking out your ass beneath your cheer skirt senior year, but things were different now. High school insecurity was gone and you no longer cared what anyone thought about your personal life.

And if Eddie truly had no interest in you, you wouldn’t be stuck in a building with him five days a week.

Steve’s face remained sour, uncertain - despite his knowledge that Eddie was almost perfectly your type - so you rolled your eyes and jostled the desk, just to make him jump. When he glared at you, you grinned.

“I mean, what’s the harm? Eddie’s always been nice to me. At worst, I pull a Henderson and replace you with Eddie.”

“Please. My life would drastically improve if you left me alone.” At your mock outrage, Steve sneered - though you could see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes, one that confirmed he was joking, though he would likely apologize for being bitchy later, anyway.

Steve shook his head as he shoved a tape, ready to be marked as a return, into your hands. “Of course Munson has always been nice to you. You’re hot.” It was said easily, as if it was the most logical explanation, a point blank huff that had him shrugging when you teasingly wagged your brows. “You know I think you’re hot. Shut up. And Munson’s weird, but he’s still a guy.”

The sharp nudge of your foot to Steve’s side drew another annoyed huff, this one accompanied by a swift swat to your foot - one that made you laugh and Steve roll his eyes.

“He’s not weird,” you defended, eyes narrowed as you scratched at the Family Video sticker covering the spine of a tape. “Just because you’re not into the same stuff doesn’t mean he’s, like, a freak or something. He’s just a guy. A cute guy, but just a guy.”

Finally, as if he’d come to terms with the fact that no work would be done until you’d decided to make your move or backed down, deflated and intending to leave well enough alone, Steve turned to lean against the counter. He folded his arms over his chest and allowed his gaze to flicker between you and Eddie.

“You’re really into him?”

Steve knew that you were. Just as you’d given him dating advice, he’d given you the same in return and knew that you had a thing for metalheads in theory - guys with leather jackets and music collections that made his head hurt - but the last person you actually pursued was more like him. It was always the safe choice and he wanted to be certain that you knew what you were getting yourself into.

“You’re totally forgetting that I thought Billy Hargrove was gorgeous until he opened his mouth and proved himself to be a Grade-A dickhead. At least Eddie’s really a nice guy.” With a sigh, you slid from the counter - careful not to destroy Steve’s pile - and frowned as you spared Eddie another sideways glance.

A dejected sigh escaped, fell from your mouth in a puff of hot air, as you emulated Steve’s stance and folded your arms over your chest. You understood where Steve was coming from - his question was fair, one that made perfect sense - but it made your chest ache as you searched for the words to adequately describe what you’d been thinking.

“I just… I’m tired of going for the safe choice, you know? I’m tired of looking for people that won’t disappoint my parents or make judge-y assholes look twice, even if they make me miserable.” With a forced laugh, a sound that rang hollow in your own ears, you turned your full attention back to Steve. “I think you’re the only person I ever even attempted to date that I halfway liked and we both know how that ended up.” Steve made a face, one that clearly displayed his understanding, as he tilted his head to study Eddie, trying to see what you saw. “Eddie’s cute and sweet and I’m not just into him because I feel like I’m supposed to be.”

Steve understood, if only vaguely - he’d chased after people just because he felt he was supposed to, spent his entire high school career being a guy he didn’t really like because that was who he felt he was supposed to be - so he nodded. With a wave of his hand, he gestured to Eddie. “I say, if you want to ask him out, just do it. There’s no chance he’ll turn you down. He’s weird, not an idiot.”

With Steve’s encouragement, if only barely, you turned to face Eddie. There was a fire burning in the pit of your stomach, flames lapping at your already warm skin, as you considered exactly how to approach him. There was no sense in trying to beat around the bush - he was sweet, flirty and kind, but would need to be asked directly, just to avoid any misunderstanding - and you knew that you couldn’t have a conversation with him with Dustin Henderson stuck to his side.

“Steve.”

An exasperated sigh escaped Steve, who had only just turned back to his work, as he held his hands up in defeat. “What?” Warm brown eyes narrowed, focused on you in an exasperated frustration that made you laugh. “What do you want me to do? I’m not asking him out for you.”

Laughter bubbled in your throat, escaped a little louder than you intended and drew Eddie and Dustin’s attention as you imagined Steve playing the middleman for you and Eddie. With a dismissive wave of your hand, you turned your head and pouted at Steve. “Take responsibility for your child and distract Henderson. I can’t ask Eddie out with him right there.”

Steve fixed you with a wholly unimpressed stare, not at all surprised by the turn your day had taken. “Fine,” he sighed, turning his attention back to the screen in front of him. “Get him over here and I’ll distract him. But you owe me. Cover my shift on Saturday? I’ve got a date with Lisa.”

“I thought you were going out with Anna?” Steve grimaced in a way that told you there would be a deeper conversation later, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to be distracted. Instead, you waved a hand. “Whatever. Henderson is literally only here because of you. I don’t owe you shit.” You rounded the counter, brows raised as Steve pulled a face, and laughed when he rolled his eyes. “I will swap you, though. I’ll take your Saturday night if you take my Friday night.”

“Yeah, alright. Just go before I change my mind. The kid can be a total cockblock when he wants to be and I’m thinking about letting him.”

With a middle finger tossed behind you, angled in Steve’s direction - met with his laughter and, no doubt, a middle finger of his own - you started off across the store. Dustin and Eddie had dropped their conversation to furious whispers, an exchange that you couldn’t make out from your distance, but fell silent the moment your steps sounded a touch too close.

“Henderson.” At your greeting, Dustin’s attention snapped to you, eyes wide and lips parted with a sentence you’d broken. Eddie shot him a sideways look and you raised an eyebrow at the silent conversation that passed between the pair. “Steve wanted to talk to you.”

Dustin frowned, eyes darting between you and Steve - whose back remained to your group. “About what?”

Eddie stifled a laugh, wide eyes amused as he watched you huff, and you rolled your eyes as Dustin waited expectantly. “I’m not a mindreader, Henderson. Ask him yourself."

Without so much as another glance in your direction, Dustin turned his attention back to the shelf he and Eddie had spent twenty minutes dissecting. “I’m busy,” he declared, fingers reaching for another tape that he had no intention of renting.

“Un-busy yourself. Now, preferably,” you snapped, eyes narrowing as Dustin turned to look at you. Before he could respond - mutter something smart, a quip that would leave you more annoyed - Eddie laughed and nudged his shoulder.

Eddie’s eyes, wide and pretty - a glassy brown that you could lose yourself in, given the chance - met yours. There was a knowing glimmer, the understanding that you wanted him alone, though you could see a hint of confusion as he tried to imagine just what you could want. “I think you’ve got about five seconds to leave before she snaps, Henderson. Might want to make yourself scarce.”

With Eddie’s encouragement, Dustin shot you an unimpressed glower before he stomped across the floor, muttering all the while. Beneath his breath, he mumbled something about not understanding girls, a huff that Suzie was the least difficult girl in his life, and had the nerves not been threatening to choke you, you would’ve laughed.

“I love those kids,” you began, eyes following Dustin’s retreating form as he approached the counter with an exaggerated huff, “but, man.”

A soft huff of laughter, accompanied by the crinkle of leather as Eddie stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket, met your eyes. That knowing smile grew a touch brighter, something more understanding, as he nodded. “It’s his tone,” he declared, grin conspiratorial. “A little humility would go far there.”

“Thank you! That’s what I’ve been saying!”

Eddie laughed and shook his head as you tossed your arms, exasperated, before glancing at you from beneath his lashes. Despite the clear amusement still settled across his features, it was obvious that he was studying you. It made you eager to shrink beneath his gaze, unused to being the center of his attention for longer than a few moments, but you willed yourself to keep your head held high as he raised a brow.

“So, Henderson’s gone,” he pointed out, dragging each syllable out just a moment longer than necessary. “What’s up? If you’re lookin’ to buy, I don’t have anything with me. We could meet later, though, if you want.”

“No, no. That’s not -“ You cut yourself off with a shake of your head, incredulous laughter threatening to escape as you did. “I don’t want to buy. I was thinking, maybe we could watch a movie or something? I want to watch The Return of the Living Dead but my friends are all chickens. I know you like horror so, I just thought, maybe we could watch it together.”

Eddie blinked, clearly caught off guard, and stilled for what felt like an eternity. In reality, only a moment passed before his lips began to curve into a slow smile. There was mischief glittering in his eyes, a warmth you hadn’t seen from him before, and you knew in that moment that Steve was right. “Are you asking me on a date, princess?”

“I am.” Despite his best attempt at nonchalance, Eddie’s brows winged up at your blunt acknowledgement. “Are you going to say yes?”

“Fuck yeah,” he agreed, easy and quick as he laughed. “If I ever say no to a date with you, assume I’ve finally lost it. But, uh, you sure about this?”

Eddie glanced across the store - met another pair of warm brown eyes before Steve and Dustin both hurriedly busied themselves with pretending they weren’t attempting to eavesdrop - and you rolled your eyes. He was far from the first person to assume there was more going on between you and Steve than friendship, but you were quick to dispel that line of thinking.

“Completely.” You debated for a moment, curious as to whether you should dig yourself deeper, but the bright glint in Eddie’s eyes - hopeful and delighted - spurred you on. “I’ve kinda had a thing for you for a while,” you admitted, attempting to feign nonchalance as you swiped at a wayward piece of dust on a shelf. His surprise was evident, brows lifting beneath the curl of his hair, but before he could comment, you barreled on. “My parents are out of town. I have to finish my shift,” you began, glancing at the clock above the desk, “but you can come over at, like, seven?”

“Seven, yeah.” Eddie’s agreement was quick, voice a little dreamy - as if he still couldn’t quite believe you’d asked him out, that you were seriously inviting him over or that you’d admitted to having a thing for him. “That sounds good. I, uh, I’ll see you then.”

“Cool, awesome.” You nodded, grinning at him - unable to even feign nonchalance as his smile mirrored your own - before you turned back to the desk. “I’ll see you at seven, then.”

Neither Eddie nor Dustin lingered long after your conversation - the latter, no doubt, leaving with the knowledge of where Eddie would be spending his evening, thanks to his gossiping with Steve. Eddie left with a smile in your direction and you saw his flailing celebration the second he stepped out of the store, even if you dutifully pretended not to noice.

Steve, however, made it a point to keep the joyous gesture at the forefront of your mind.

For the remaining three hours of your shift, you endured Steve’s teasing. He poked fun at your upcoming date, wondering idly if Eddie would be waiting for you when you arrived home - too excited too wait until seven - or if he’d wear something other than his leather jacket or black t-shirt. But, no matter what he said, you simply rolled your eyes and kept checking the clock every ten minutes.

The time seemed to crawl, passing so slowly that you were half-sure Dustin changed the clocks just to mess with you, but when the hour struck six, you were out the door with a parting wave and a bright ‘thanks’ to Steve for taking on closing duties alone.

There was little time for anything more than a change of clothes and a quick tidying of your home before seven rolled around, but you knew that Eddie wouldn’t really mind. Though there was something about him that made you nervous - excited, giddy, some kind of schoolgirl crush - if you really thought about it, you figured there was little you could do that would truly bother him.

And, thankfully, before you could think too much about it and send yourself spiraling, a knock sounded at the door.

At seven on the dot, you found Eddie standing at your front door. He’d changed - his leather jacket remained, but it covered a nicer shirt instead of the worn Metallica shirt he’d donned earlier in the afternoon - and you could smell the green apple of his shampoo as he grinned at you.

“Hey.” Though he attempted nonchalance with an easy smile, you could see the nervous tension in his shoulders.

Eddie had been burned - you knew that - and he was likely waiting for the catch. There was none, just a desire to get to know him better, and you wanted desperately for him to know that. So you mustered up your widest grin and held the door open for him.

“Hi. Come in.” As he stepped inside, closer than necessary - shoulder brushing yours, so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body - you hoped he don’t notice the breath you took to steady yourself. “So, I got Return of the Living Dead and Sleepaway Camp. Not sure if you’ve seen either, but Return is supposed to be amazing and Sleepaway Camp is one of my favorites.”

“I haven’t seen Return yet,” he admitted as you closed the front door, “but I’ve heard good things. Sleepaway Camp, though? This whole time, I thought you were cool.” The jab was teasing, meant entirely in jest and accompanied by a grin, and earned a roll of your eyes as you gestured for him to follow you deeper into the living room.

“I don’t know where you got that idea, but I’m happy to prove you wrong.” Eddie followed, close enough that. He could reach out and touch you, and the idea made your thoughts a little fuzzy as you approached the couch. “I won’t be taking any Sleepaway Camp slander, though. It’s killer.”

Eddie paused, tilted his head and regarded you with furrowed brows and a badly concealed smile as he watched you reach for the tapes. “…was that a really bad pun?”

“I keep getting cooler, I’m aware.” Eddie laughed, unable to conceal his smile any longer, as he took a seat at one end of the couch. “I was going to say we could start with Return since neither of us have seen it but now, you’re going to suffer through Sleepaway Camp first.”

As you placed the tape into the VCR and pressed play, you could hear the shuffling of Eddie tossing his leather jacket onto the chair beside the couch. “Fine by me,” he hummed, a sly grin on his lips as you glanced at him over your shoulder. “Maybe the company will make it better.” When you fixed him with your best unimpressed look - a feat, considering the heat traveling to your cheeks - his grin grew a touch wider. “I keep getting more charming, I’m aware.”

“Wow.” The nervous energy began to dissipate with every teasing jab. You were reminded of how easily you’d always gotten along with Eddie - how easily you’d always been able to converse with him, despite the crush that made you conscious of your every move - as you approached the couch yourself. “You know, now that you mention it, I never realized…” Warm brown eyes tracked your every move, anticipating - hoping for - a compliment as you took a seat at the opposite end. “… just how big your head was.”

The opening scene began to play, sounds of a B-horror film filling the small space, as he reached for the lamp on the side table. “Big head, big… well, you know how the saying goes,” he teased as he settled deeper into the cushions and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I do but I’m pretty sure that is totally not how it starts.”

Eddie shrugged, grin never faltering as he watched you reach for the lamp at your end of the couch. “Same thing. Creative license and all that.”

“Right. All the songwriting and campaign planning, makes sense you get a little creative.” When he tipped his head, seemingly surprised that you knew about both his songwriting and campaign planning, you rolled your eyes. “I’ve had a crush on you for, like, three years. I know things about you, Eddie. And, I mean, I spend time around Dustin Henderson, begrudgingly most of the time, but he talks about you all the time. So, I’ve picked up some things.”

There was a look of something akin to awe on his face as you shifted closer. “You’re pretty, you like horror and metal, and you like me. Why?”

It broke your heart to hear the doubt in his voice - to see the hesitance in his eyes, the residual concern that he was being left out of the joke - and you couldn’t help but sigh as you continued shifting closer to him. “Because you like horror and metal and you’re kinda cool. And, I mean, it doesn’t hurt that you’re kinda hot, too.”

“You know,” he spared the television a glance, “if you didn’t have sort of questionable taste, I’d think this was all too good to be true. But, I’m not gonna question it too much ‘cause you’re kinda cool, too. And definitely hot.”

“Glad to know we’re on the same page, then. Now, are we going to just talk or are you going to allow me to educate you in good horror?”

Eddie’s laughter drowned out a brief moment of dialogue - a line you could easily recite - as he tossed an arm over the back of the couch and shook his head. “‘M sorry. Educate away, princess.”

For a few brief moments, the pair of you settled. Eddie kept his attention on the television - and even cracked a smile or two at some of your favorite moments - while you kept your attention on him. His side profile was captivating, so distracting that you didn’t notice the minutes ticking away as you studied him, and he was kind enough to refrain from pointing out your obvious staring as the film played on.

Though you could feel the rapid beat of your heart, a warmth prickling at your skin as you remained conscious of the fact that you’d finally taken the leap and had a chance to make your move, Eddie seemed unfazed by the proximity as he laughed at a particularly cheesy scene. However, when you shifted closer - body now practically touching his - you caught his sharp inhale.

It brought you a sort of comfort to realize that he was not as unaffected as he seemed, nowhere near as nonchalant about the entire encounter as he wanted you to believe, and you couldn’t help but smile as you tipped your head to look at him.

“Do I make you nervous?”

The question was teasing, a light jab, but he didn’t miss a beat. “Of course you do,” he confirmed with a nod and a laugh as he glanced at you. “You’re smart and cool and hot. You fucking terrify me.”

“Me?” You scoffed, despite yourself, and shook your head. “As if. I’m totally not scary.”

“‘M serious.” Eddie relaxed, if only slightly, and shifted his body to face you fully as his arm fell around your shoulders. “No one had their shit together in high school, but you did. You knew what you wanted and it was kind of intimidating.”

“I definitely did not have my shit together,” you confessed, laughing as you leaned into his embrace. “But I’m glad it looked like I did. Maybe I’m just a good actress.”

“If that’s acting, you should be up for an Oscar, princess.”

As Eddie laughed, a quiet sound that washed over you and filled your chest with a sticky warmth, you shook your head. “You’re the only one who gets to call me that, you know?”

Eddie hummed, a flash of confusion washing over his face, before he asked, “What, princess?”

“Mm. I think if it was anyone else, it would sound condescending. Like they’re trying to be a prick, you know. But I don’t mind it from you,” you confessed. “It’s kinda nice.”

That grin you were beginning to love - genuine, warm, happy - lifted his lips as he shifted once more and knocked your knee with his own. “I’m not a big fan of nicknames, for obvious reasons,” he confided, “but I like it when you call me Eds. It’s kinda cute.”

“God, we’re kinda gross.”

“Totally. But I’m not complaining.” Eddie removed his arm from around your shoulders and brought his hand to cup your cheek. He paused for a moment, studying your face, before he asked, “Does it make me a total loser if I’ve thought about kissing you for, like, ever?”

For a split second, you wondered if he could hear the beat of your heart over the screaming emanating from the television - and if you’d heard him properly over the noise. But when you met his expectant gaze, wide brown eyes waiting for you response, you realized you didn’t really care.

“Only if you keep thinking about it instead of actually doing it.”

With your permission, Eddie leaned in and tentatively pressed his mouth to yours. The kiss was careful, hesitant, but you could feel the underlying excitement as the warmth of his palm bled into your skin. Without thinking, you breathed a contented sigh as you lifted your hands to his hair and tugged him impossibly closer.

The noise of the film continued in the background, unnoticed by either of you as Eddie took the initiative to deepen the kiss. He swiped his tongue along the seam of your lips, urging you to open up for him, and you gave in without a moment of hesitation.

As many times as you’d thought about this moment - as many times as you’d pictured yourself in this situation, at the center of Eddie’s attention, with his hands and mouth on you - the reality was infinitely better than any dream. Eddie’s hands were calloused, rough from years of guitar and, now, his work at Thatcher’s, but his touch was featherlight as his hands began to wander.

Gentle fingers brushed along your jaw, dragged down the side of your neck and shoulders, inching lower until they found your waist. Your fingers tangled in his curls, indulging in your long hidden desire to play with his hair, as Eddie pulled away to allow you both a moment to breathe.

“We’re missing the totally not awful movie,” he pointed out, breath fanning over your neck as he dipped his head to nose at your jaw.

“We can rewind it later.”

Eddie laughed, his smirk evident as he nipped at the hinge of your jaw before lapping at the skin to soothe the brief sting. “Thought you wanted to educate me, princess,” he teased.

Warm hands began to wander, fingers dipping beneath the hem of your t-shirt to brush the heated skin of your waist, as he pressed soft kisses to your neck. Your own hands began to wander as well, dipping to his chest as he latched onto a patch of skin just beneath your ear.

“Want to kiss you more.”

He hummed, pleased with your answer, as he tipped his head to meet your gaze. Soft brown eyes were blown black and there was a hunger in them that you’d never been privileged enough to see. Now, the sheer weight of his desire hit you all at once as he grinned. “Glad to know we’re on the same page, then.”

Before you could huff, playfully pout at his taunting callback, Eddie reclaimed your lips. This kiss was more heated than the first, hesitance now gone as you realized you both wanted the same thing, and it completely obliterated any remaining thoughts other than how good it felt to have him pressed so close.

Though his hands began to wander, touch fleeting as it dragged across your hips and thighs, over your middle and back to your arms, he remained respectful. As eager as you both were, his hands only fell to your chest when you lifted them there yourself.

Eddie groaned into the kiss the moment you placed his hands, fingers experimentally flexing as you shifted impossibly closer.

“You can touch me however you want,” you allowed, word exhaled against his mouth as you separated just an inch to breathe. “I’ll tell you to stop if I don’t want something.”

“Fuck.” His forehead fell to yours, curls beginning to stick to his forehead with the lightly beading sweat, as he laughed. “Ditto. I’m all yours, princess. Take whatever you want.”

“That’s a dangerous offer.” The hand you’d left on his bicep, fingers tracing the stark black ink of his tattoo, began to wander then. Slowly, you raked the tips of your fingers down his chest - not bothering to hide your grin as he inhaled sharply at the sensation of your fingers raking over his lower stomach - and stopped at the buckle of his belt. “What if I want everything?”

“It’s yours. Been yours,” he admitted, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his gaze met yours once more. “Fuck, you’re all I want, princess. ‘ve been crazy about you for a while.”

“Keep talking like that and you might make me fall in love, Eds.” It was too late - you were already halfway there - and you both knew it. Still, Eddie laughed dutifully as his gaze fell to watch your hands tug at his belt buckle.

“Give me a few hours. I’ve been there, time for you to join me.”

The admission was half-teasing, accompanied by a breathless laugh as you worried with the warm metal beneath your fingers, but it still filled your stomach with a storm of butterflies. The time you’d spent pining over Eddie could’ve been spent lying beneath him, going on dates with him, enjoying time with him, and you were determined to make up for lost time as you tipped your head and pressed your lips to his once more.

“I’m closer than you think.”

Before he could consider your admission too closely, you pulled away and slipped off the couch to kneel between his spread thighs. Those brown eyes went wide, big and disbelieving, as you unbuckled his belt.

“Whoa. Fuck, wait.” Eddie swallowed harshly as he swept his hair from his eyes and glanced down at you. A gentle hand fell to your cheek, urging you to meet his eyes as he blinked away the lust-fueled stupor. “You don’t have to… I mean, I don’t expect you to -“

“Eddie.” He paused, tongue darting out to wet his lips once more, as you cut him off mid-sentence. “You can say no. But I want to. Is that okay?”

Eddie was far from a blushing virgin. You’d heard the rumors, tales of just how talented he was - had even heard the stories of a few trysts from the man himself - but his hesitation gave you pause. However, before you could pull away, he assured you.

“Yeah! Yeah, that’d be - yeah. I’ve had sex. I’ve just… No one has ever… It’s usually a quick fuck and then back to whoever they’re supposed to be dating,” he confessed, pink tinging his cheeks as he hurried to explain himself. “Blowjobs aren’t usually the priority.”

Though you knew Eddie fairly well, enough to have been half-in love with him for a while, you knew his reputation. But to know that others had taken advantage of his desire to love and be loved in return, it made your chest ache. Despite his reputation for being a freak - for being scary, intimidating - you knew that he was a sweetheart who deserved more than he’d been given. And you wanted to show him that you were apply to make him a priority.

“I’d love to be the first, if you’ll let me.”

“Fuck.” Eddie shuddered, his chest heaved with a sharp breath, as he raked a hand through his hair and nodded. “Yeah,” he allowed, “yeah, please.”

Eddie leaned back into the cushions then, allowing himself to relax into the plush of the couch as you popped the button on his jeans. It was obvious just how much he was enjoying the attention - plain to see from the bulge in his jeans and the pink staining his cheeks and neck - and you couldn’t help but smile as you took in the sight of him.

“You’re so pretty, Eddie.” It was reverent, a breathless observation as you tugged at the denim and studied the slope of his nose - the curve of his jaw, the wild tangle of his hair - and you meant it wholeheartedly.

“Flattery will get you absolutely everywhere, princess.” He lifted his hips, allowing you to tug at the denim just enough to expose his boxers - cheeks flushing darker when you bit back a smile at the sight of the blue and white checkerboard pattern.

“Not flattery, just honesty. You’re distracting,” you admitted, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes as you began to palm at the bulge in his boxers. “But I wanna see how much prettier you are when you’re falling apart.”

“You’re killing me. Fuck.”

Deciding that he’d had enough teasing, you gave in to the desire and tugged at the final layer of material separating you. The moment you exposed him to the air, you both gasped - him at the sensation of cool air hitting blistering warm skin, you at the sight of him.

Without thought, you spit into your palm before allowing yourself to reach out and experimentally stroke his cock. Eddie groaned at the feeling, his head tipping back and his eyes fluttering shut, and you felt a surge of warmth wash over you. Each noise he made ran straight to your core, fanned the flames of the fire already beginning to burn out of control, and you shifted to allow yourself some relief before leaning in to lap at the bead of precum already beginning to form.

Another noise, this one louder, met your ears as a warm hand fell to your head. He was careful not to push, careful not to attempt to take control, as he sought to anchor himself to the moment but you wouldn’t have minded either way. And as you traced the vein running along the underside of his cock before taking the head between your lips, you could hear him swear beneath his breath.

Though you were tempted to prolong the pleasure, witness him falling apart piece by piece as you slowly worked him up, you were too worked up yourself to do more than take as much of him a you could into your mouth. You knew there would be time to experiment later - time to push yourself to take him all - so you focused on giving him the best experience you could in that moment.

It only took a few moments for his thighs to begin to flex beneath your touch, for his chest to heave and his noises of pleasure to grow louder. And though you could see the hint of embarrassment tinging his cheeks at beginning to fall apart so soon, you felt a surge of pride at your ability to rile him up so completely.

But before you could lift your head and urge him to come, assure him that it was alright, he spoke. “Fuck, princess. I don’t wanna come in your mouth.” Eddie urged you up, then, away from his cock as he attempted to catch his breath and pull himself back from the brink. “Wanna come with you. Can I fuck you?”

The blunt question warmed you from within, stole your breath and had you keening as you nodded eagerly. “Please.” A moan escaped your lips as he reached out to cup your cheek and pull you into a messy kiss that was an eager clash of tongue and teeth.

For a moment, you both lost yourselves in the kiss. Eddie groaned as your hand remained on his cock, fingers stroking slowly as you waited for him to gather himself, only for him to swear as he broke the kiss. “Shit. Fuck, I don’t have a condom,” he lamented, eyes falling shut. “Sorry. Wan’t exactly expecting,” he waved a hand, gesturing to your hand, “this.”

Luckily for the both of you, you still had a stash of condoms - given to you by Steve as a joke the last time you considered asking Eddie out - in your nightstand. “I do,” you revealed, giggling as his shoulders relaxed. “C’mon, pretty boy.”

As you stood, offering Eddie your hand, he groaned once more. “Is it your goal to kill me, princess? Because I think you might actually kill me.”

“What a way to go, though, hm?”

Eddie stood, quickly tugged his jeans up but left them unbuttoned, and followed close behind as you led him up the stairs, his hand warm in yours. You could feel his body heat radiating, could hear his shallow breathing as he attempted to even it out, and you were secretly satisfied to know that you had such an impact on him.

Even more, however, you were thrilled to know that you were only moments away from getting what you wanted.

With quick steps, you tugged him down the hall and into your bedroom, pulling the door shut behind you as you entered. Once inside, Eddie paused for a moment to take in the sight.

“You know, I was expecting a Tom Cruise poster,” he teased, laughing only slightly when instead he saw Nikki Sixx.

“What can I say? I’ve got a thing for pretty, dark-haired metalheads.”

A smirk quirked his mouth as he tugged you close, hands falling to your waist as he dipped his head to capture your lips. The kiss was eager, uncoordinated and messy but breathtaking as his hands began to wander. Deft fingers flitted to the button of your jeans, and after a moment of hesitation, popped them open.

“If you want to stop, we can,” he reminded you, fingers ghosting along the sliver of skin just above your jeans. “We totally don’t have to do this.”

“You’re incredibly sweet, Eds.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, hands drifting to his hair to tug at the curls as you met his gaze. “But if you don’t fuck me, I might cry and I don’t feel like crying tonight.”

Eddie grinned, glad you were as eager as he was, and hummed as his fingers began to drift lower. “Can’t have you crying on my watch, princess. ‘Less they’re good, ‘I totally fucked you stupid’ tears.”

“I mean, if you’re up to the challenge, then by all means.”

Though it might’ve been the wrong thing to say, a taunt you would later regret, he took the challenge for what it was worth. There was a determined glint in his eyes, a burning desire that tied your stomach in knots, and it was burned into your field of view as he pressed his mouth to yours once more.

For a moment, you weren’t certain which sensation to focus on as Eddie’s tongue licked at the seam of your lips and his fingers ghosted over the cotton of your panties. However, he drew your full, undivided attention as he nudged the fabric aside and swiped his fingers through your slick folds.

A hum of encouragement met your ears as Eddie coated his fingers in your slick, teasing for just a moment before he found the sensitive bundle of nerves. With his lips a fraction of an inch from yours, he asked, “This all from blowing me?”

It was incredulous, almost as if he couldn’t believe it, but you hummed. “Thought about it for ages. Reality was better.”

“Don’t think I’ll last long enough to return the favor right now,” he confessed, breath fanning across your lips as he rubbed lazy circles over the bundle of nerves, “but I’ve gotta taste you before tonight’s over. Got myself off so many times thinking about it, ‘bout you.”

Eddie grinned at the moan you released, at the way you sagged against him - unable to hold yourself entirely upright with the promise of him between your thighs, the thought of him touching himself to that image. “You sure you’re not trying to kill me?”

“What a way to go.” He lingered, just for a second, before Eddie pulled away and shushed your whine with a press of his mouth to yours. “I’m gonna come in my jeans if I don’t get inside you soon, princess. Promise to take my time with you later. Gonna give you everything you deserve, treat you right.”

“Ditto.” He laughed, amused and flattered in equal measure, as he began to tug at his clothes. Encouraged, you followed suit and, soon enough, a pile of garments littered your bedroom floor.

However, neither of you dwelled on the sight for long as you headed for the bed, stopping only to retrieve a foil packet from the bedside drawer.

Every dream encounter you shared with Eddie varied - sometimes he was soft, other times he manhandled you exactly the way you wanted; sometimes he was quick, others he teased for hours - but nothing lived up to the reality of having him climb into your bed after you.

This encounter would be quick and dirty, a desperate search for relief, but you knew that it was only the first of many. And, encouraged by the future that now seemed so clear, you reached out and tugged him into you.

Lithe arms braced themselves at either side of your head, tattoos stark against his pale skin, and you hummed as you decided you would someday spend as much time as he’d allow you committing them to memory. But that could wait. For now, you simply savored the weight of him above you and tangled your fingers in his hair as he positioned himself at your entrance.

“Haven’t even gotten inside and I already can’t wait to do this again,” he confessed, dipping his head to nip at the hinge of your jaw. “And again. And again. I’m already ruined for you, princess.”

Before you could confess the same sentiment, admit your utter ruin at his hands, he pressed his hips forward and began to sink into you. The stretch was bearable, a tinge of discomfort completely overshadowed by the warmth of his skin against yours - the weight of his body pressed to yours, the nip of his teeth at your jaw - and you inhaled sharply at the feeling.

Eddie stilled for a few long moments, hands stroking at whatever skin he could reach - your hips, your thighs, your stomach - as he breathed reverent nonsense. The words blurred, compliments and awed whispers of how good you felt, but it paled in comparison to the moan he released when you yanked at his curls and begged for him to finally move.

The pace he set was blistering, deep and quick and perfect, and you marveled at how right his touch felt. Every snap of his hips, every brush of his mouth against your skin, every whispered word of praise; it felt as if each was a puzzle piece, suddenly falling into place.

Though he took great care to ensure your pleasure, he made no attempt to treat you like a doll, like something that might shatter beneath his touch, and you were grateful for the heavy press of his hands to your skin as he pawed at your thighs. Almost immediately, you understood one another - both quickly fell into step beside one another - and you felt the flames he’d been fanning begin to grow out of control.

Heat engulfed you, body burning with every swipe of his fingers and snap of his hips, and it grew harder to draw your breath as his fingers found your clit. Eddie nipped at your jaw, breath fanning over your skin and sending goosebumps erupting, as he encouraged, “Come for me, princess. Wanna feel you.”

With anyone else, you might’ve been embarrassed at how quickly you barreled toward your release - at how eager you were to give in and come just because he asked - but this was Eddie. Anything he wanted, you would at least consider, and your body knew it well. So with a few swipes of his fingers and another snap of his hips, you barreled over the edge with a cry of his name.

Almost immediately, as if he’d been waiting for you, he followed suit. One, two, three snaps of his hips before he buried his face in the crook of your neck and came with a moan that you knew would play on a loop in your happiest of dreams.

For a few moments after, you both lay still - Eddie with his head buried in the crook of your neck, hands still stroking your heated skin; you, with your eyes shut and lips parted as you caught your breath, fingers raking through his curls. It was blissful, a moment you’d dreamt about, but the dream was interrupted by reality as discomfort began to set in.

When you began to squirm, Eddie quickly pulled away - pulled out and cooed when you whimpered at the loss - and tossed the used condom into the bin beside your bed before returning to lay beside you. He pulled you close, wrapped his arms around you and tugged you into his chest, and you both lay in silence for a long moment before he spoke.

“So, you wanna actually watch those movies now?”

With a laugh, you tipped your head and buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Mm. Give me a minute. Gotta return to the land of the living first.”

“Take your time, princess. When you do, though, maybe you can return as my girlfriend.”

Eddie could almost certainly feel your smile, grin bright and happy as you hummed against his skin. “Yeah,” you agreed easily, not bothering to hide the giddiness you felt, “I think that can be arranged.”

Though it wasn’t how you pictured your evening, you knew it was better than anything you could’ve imagined. And, while Steve would be annoying, you couldn’t wait to venture back into the world with your boyfriend by your side.

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Author's Note: Take this away from me. I've been working on this forever but got stuck on the smut.

Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff, @valthevalkyrie-main, @crying-caro, @inglourious-imagines

#stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson filth #v's fics

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stevesbipanic · 8 months

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Eddie gets stuck in a time loop but has no idea why, his day is normal, there's not even a test that day that he can use this to pass. After a few time loops he says fuck it let's start doing fun things, starting with talking to his crush, the lovely Fallen King Steve. After a few loops Steve starts talking back, soon there's whole loops with just them hanging out.

Little does Eddie know, Steve is in a time loop too trying to stop the Upside Down once again, he's just having a hard time caring when there's this sweet metalhead chatting him up everyday. Maybe he deserves to waste a few loops.

#the eddie joking about time loop foc will come #BUT THIS IDEA HAS BEEN EATING AT ME I AM WRITING IT CURRENTLY #sorry bb fic youll get your turn v soon #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #time loop au #wip

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bathroomtrapped · 6 months

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my sister told me to caption this 'two lovely men' without any context so heres two lovely christian saw men 👍🏻

#peters wearing a purple chasuble bc its like for lent and humility etc #hes just a shame riddled man jesus #same woth the violets #theyre suppoosed to be a flower that bows down #hence the chasuble #its like a tainted garden of eden type vibe? strahm is pretty much thinking #its the way hes romanticized his issues in this universe ig #it may or may not be for a fic i plan on writing where peter is rly suspicious of the new priest who replaced the last #hes convinced that mark is killing off the corrupt priests #peter strahm #mark hoffman #hoffstrahm #coffinshipping #saw v #saw #also peep the snake bite 😈#i think i got the catholic out of my system for now sorry for that LOL #saw movies #larry art tag

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inklore · 7 months

Note

I’ve seen your reblog ‘“i’ve been thinking about you all day” as they’re filling your pussy’ and I was wondering if it was okay to request this with Jordan Li (established relationship)

NIGHTS LIKE THESE

pairing: jordan li x (f)reader

contents: foreplay, p in v, oral, this is very soft, it’s basically fluff with smut, both of their presenting forms involved, everyone is love sick and clingy idk | wc: 860

note: they're everything to me!! i have something much longer in the works for them but i needed to write something quick and yearny.

Your wrists are pinned above your head, their fingers twined with yours as they hold you in place, as if you’d ever escape them, leave them, or try to.

As if you could go anywhere with their body pressed against yours and their hips moving between your thighs.

Slow thrusts that make you feel every inch of them moving inside of you. Fucking you at that languid pace that comes from the frustration of long days and the yearning that pricks at one’s heart from being separated for too long.

Course work and keeping your rankings are chores in and of themselves, but living up to the expectations it sets is even harder. So if a day goes by and Jordan can’t have you pressed up against them, at their side, or at the very least your nose in your test books laying against the other sprawled on their bed, each of you doing your own thing: their day just doesn't feel right.

Doesn’t feel normal if they can’t pull you to the side in the hall and press a kiss on your lips.

Can’t get the death glare you always give them when they forget to eat lunch because they were too busy helping Brink, and you surprise them with dinner and dessert—the dessert usually forgotten and turns into you between their legs or vice versa.

Their days aren’t normal unless you’re in them.

They haven’t felt normal since the two of you decided to try this. To be together.

“You’ve rewired me,” they mumble against your shoulder as the two of you try to fall asleep one night. The clock on your nightstand glowing 1:00AM in big, haunting letters. Your night supposed to be spent working, but there are only so many sneaking glances and innocent touches against skin before you are both done pretending you want to do anything besides have the other naked and against you all day.

And you know that they’ve rewired you too.

Made the fucked up in your life a little less fucked, made the days easier to endure when there’s the constant pressure of greatness looming over you.

You could crash and burn, and you know you’d still have their support, just as they would have yours. And that’s a higher score than rankings could ever give you.

It’s rare the two of you will go a day without seeing each other, without ending up pressed together in bed—weed filled lungs laughing until the haze lolls you to sleep and you’re waking the next morning to Jordan’s alarm clock and the shifting groan of both their forms pulling their pillow over their head. Pulling you back down into bed when you actually do something crazy like get up and not lay with them for five more minutes.

But nights like these make up for days when you are both swamped and Brink needs Jordan for something, and you are stuck alone with your nose in a book or forcing Marie and Emma to get Vought A Burger with you.

Nights where there’s no rush. No need to go fast and get off as many times as your body aches for—as many times as the other wants to swallow and taste the pleasure each time you come against them, on top of them, or inside of you. Like you’re both dying of thirst, and only the others come will do.

These nights are slow. Savored. Like you’ve been away at war rather than occupied over a span of twenty four hours.

Jordan kisses you achingly slowly these nights. Let’s their tongue linger in your mouth for longer than normal, nipping at your bottom lip with gentle teeth. Their fingers stripping you of your clothes like they need to press their lips to every bit of skin they free.

And when their tongue finally makes contact with your pussy it feels like you can finally breathe. Like you’ve been holding your breath for days—all night—for them to finally soothe the ache that they’ve caused.

Their hips buck against the air when you switch positions, and your tongue presses between their thighs. A slow tease of teeth and tongue tracing down their hip bones until you’ve reached where they’re soaked, or hard for you.

Neither of you letting the other come until Jordan is inside of you.

Until you’re both sighing from that first initial push inside, the head of their cock easily fills you with how wet you are—how wet they’ve made you. Gasps breathed into mouths from that first slow roll of their hips.

It’s heady and fucking torturous, and you love it.

You both do.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” they murmur against your lips. Their fingers flexing against yours as they keep them above your head, as they completely take control of your body and show you just what they’ve been thinking about. “You take up every part of my brain, and it’s a problem, but I fucking love it.” They moan into your mouth; roll their hips in that way that has air whooshing from your lungs and your pelvis pushing up to drive them deeper.

#jordan li x reader #jordan li x you #jordan li smut #gen v fic #jordan li imagine #gen v fanfic #jordan li fic #jordan li fanfic #jordan li x y/n #gen v smut #jordan li

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sailoryooons · 3 months

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Bust | KTH | (m)

☾ Pairing: Heistman!Taehyung x f. Reader

☾ Summary: Seeing a beautiful man in the middle of a bank robbery is unusual. Seeing him again afterward is even more unlikely… and yet not unlucky.

☾ Word Count: 2,211

☾ Genre: Criminal, Smut, PWP

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

☾ Warnings: Bank robbery, light depiction of fear/anxiety, mentions of poor financial situations and money-related stress, recreational drinking, ‘good girl’ petname, explicit language, sexually explicit content including oral (f. receiving), biting, spanking, implied body worship kind of, a hint of overstim, bodily fluids and cum-eating.

☾ Published: Monday, January 15, 2024

☾ A/N: This is an idea I randomly spoke about forever ago in a TikTok DM with @gimmethatagustd and this is strictly written to ruin their entire life tonight. I hope it works idk osifodigjoijg.

☾ A/N 2: Tonight is number four for my 100 Drabble Challenge and I rolled number 24 for criminals! I hope you enjoy my depraved thoughts of Taehyung in that GOD DAMN SQUID GAME OUTFIT AT PTD. MY MASK KINK DOESN’T MAKE AN APPEARANCE BUT BE FUCKING SURE IT WILL ONE DAY. HE MADE ME INSANE.

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

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Sweat beads down your back, the trickle of it slower than the clock ticking above your head. Time seems to slow as you sit on a carpet that hasn’t been steam cleaned since the 80s and push yourself against the wall, eyes glued to the open vault.

It had happened so fast and yet now, it’s like it can’t be over fast enough. Each second that ticks by feels like it takes a year. You cannot hear the chatter of the men inside the vault, but their harsh whispers raise goosebumps on your skin.

At least they haven’t noticed you. Not that you would do much, anyway. You have no intention of going over to push the alarm by the door, too afraid to alert the armed man who stands just outside the vault room on the other side, and far too underpaid to risk your life for a financial institution.

For a moment, you wish it were you robbing the damned bank. Maybe you could pay off the student loans on your degree you’re not using and run the heating in your apartment during the winter instead of bundling up in several layers.

Your momentary lapse of delusion passes as the men rush out of the vault, duffles in hand. They’re all dressed in red, black masks covering their faces with shapes on them. You’re vaguely aware that the costume belongs to some sort of show you saw online, but you can’t place them.

Perhaps you’ll watch it now.

“Hurry up,” one of the men barks toward the vault. There had been three inside, but only two came out. “Grab the last and let’s go. Two minutes left.”

They’re gone in an instant. Your eyes dart back to the vault where you can hear the last person inside. Glancing at the clock, you watch the seconds tick by.

Ten seconds. Fifteen. Thirty. A minute.

A man dressed in a red suit, hood pulled over his head comes out of the vault. As he slugs it shut with one arm, the bag on his shoulder droops, spilling the contents inside out onto the floor. Bands of cash fall out, thudding around his feet. He swears loudly and bends over, back slipping more to drop cash on the ground.

In his frustration, he crouches and tips the mask up a fraction, shielding his face from the camera above but not from you, huddled on the floor a few feet away.

Your heart skips. The thief is beautiful. Dark eyes focused on his task, a wide nose that fits perfectly on a symmetrical face with high cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and a pursed mouth. There’s a flush in his face from the heat, the tip of his nose an endearing shade of rose.

As if sensing your gaze, his head snaps up. You cower against the wall, realizing now that you’ve seen his face, you’ve doomed yourself. He stalls completely, gloved hand hovering over the cash, eyes boring into you. He arches a brow as if to ask you a question and you respond by shaking your head.

The thief gives you a cocky grin, nodding before he finishes picking up the money and tossing it into the bag. He looks at you again, a smirk on full display before he winks and pulls the mask back down. “Good girl,” he purrs. “I like that.”

Despite the situation, your stomach flips. He stands and rushes out, lingering by the door for a second longer to stare at you through the black mask. You can’t see his face, but you know you’ll never forget it, pretty as an angel, dangerous as a devil.

When the group is gone, you wait in silence, only the pumping of your heart to keep you company. When the cops come and ply you with questions all you can do is shake your head repeatedly.

I was too scared. I can’t remember.

It is the same thing you tell investigators for nearly two months. Just when you think they won’t keep asking what the man looked like, they finally drop it, handing over the robbery details to the FBI. They were at least a little less callous, caring a little less about how many questions you answered.

If you had to guess, your unimpressive financial situation even after the robbery was significant enough that you weren’t involved with the robbery.

It’s hard not to wish you had been. The straw in your mouth belongs to a drink that is far too expensive for you to not wince and it barely tastes like anything. At this rate, you know you won’t get a buzz. You’d love alcohol to take the edge off of the loud club music or loosen you up a bit, but you’re resigned to being sober for the rest of your friend's birthday.

Around you is a gaggle of men and women, both people you know and new faces trying to pick up your friends. Anyone trying to hit on you has already decided you’re far too grumpy to waste time on, most of their backs facing you as people shout over the music about working in finance.

You wonder if they also rob banks in their spare time. It makes you grin, thinking fondly about the thief once again. You do that a lot.

Sipping the drink, you glance at your phone. It’s been an hour since you arrived, but you’re wondering if enough time has reasonably passed to excuse yourself. Tomorrow is one of your few days off and you intend to spend it lounging on the couch watching TV instead of nursing a headache.

Someone slides into the space at the bar next to you. You don’t glance up at them, spinning your skinny cocktail straw absently as you stare at the melted ice of your Long Island iced tea. You hoped that once it melted it would turn into a second drink, but it hasn’t. Cold, bitter water it is, then.

“Why the long face?” You frown at the vaguely familiar voice and glance up, freezing.

Mr. Bank Robber looks down at you, cocking his head to the side with a wolfish grin. Your mouth pops open in surprise, leaning back a little as you drink him in. This close, he is far more beautiful than you remember, the edges and shadows of his face like a carefully painted fresco. Michelangelo could hardly be talented enough to capture this.

“You,” you whisper, his grin spreading further.

“Have we met?” he leans on the bar, dressed in all black. You eye the three-piece suit and the glinting diamonds in the cuff links. His clothes are far finer than anything anyone else is wearing and when you breathe in sharply, you smell a hint of woody cologne. His dark hair is slicked back and you catch the dainty hoop earrings in his lobes. You like the juxtaposition.

“You know we have.” He tongues the inside of his cheek, turning his head to order with the bartender. His eyes stray to you, raising a brow. You supply him with your answer, “A long island.”

The bartender nods, momentarily stupefied by the heistman’s beauty before walking over to the POS, tapping the screen with the speed and aggression unique to bartenders.

“Kind of a shitty club,” he mentions, looking around over the top of your head. Sweat clings to your lower back, your mouth growing dry as you watch colors splash on his face. “Your face is too pretty for a place like this.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhmm.” The bartender puts the drinks on the counter and the man gives him cash, signaling to keep the change. The bartender raises a brow but says nothing, taking the money as he goes. “What’s your name?”

“You probably already know it.” He cocks his head to the side. “I’m sure you looked me up to see if I was a threat or watched me to see what I’d do.”

“You watch too many heist movies.”

“Maybe I watch just enough.”

He laughs at that and your lips twitch. It’s rich, making his face intimidating as he gives you a wide smile and shakes his head. “Alright, maybe you’re right.”

“Can I know your name?”

“For the right price.”

“My silence was a pretty petty, no?”

He bites his bottom lip, eyes dipping down and back up. You sip your drink, feeling a flush of warmth unfurl in your body, most notably between your legs. “I like you.”

“You have to like me. I know your secret.”

Leaning forward, he ducks down so that he’s murmuring into your ear, hot breath ghosting your skin and making you tremble. “Want to hear more?” Your eyelids flutter as he waits, skin buzzing at his sudden proximity. You nod, feeling lightheaded. “My name is Taehyung. Want to get out of here?”

“Fuck,” Taehyung growls, hands skimming your bare sides. You can’t keep still under his gaze, hips squirming and fingers twisting in the sheets. His mouth is swollen and covered in your spit, his eyes blown as a large hand scrapes down to your thigh where he gives you a good slap. “I knew you were a good girl.”

A moan trips out of your mouth. Your thigh stings where he slapped you but he soothes it with the easy back-and-forth motion of his hand, his fingers digging into your flesh. Taehyung is a man starved, having littered your body with harsh kisses and bites, nearly breaking the skin.

You don’t care. You’re feverish for him, room spinning as you sprawl on his soft sheets in a hotel room that is far nicer than anything you’ve ever been in. You burn up like a star, core raging as Taehyung leans back down, pressing your naked thighs open for him as he sucks the skin of your chest between his teeth.

Everything aches. You want him so bad that you feel a cry come out of your mouth, lips wobbling as he laughs against your skin, sinking lower and lower, mouth loud as he sucks at your skin, tongue brushing over the sting of his teeth.

“Does my good girl need her pussy eaten?” Taehyung rasps, looking up at you where he kneels between your legs. “Is that why you’re crying, hmm?”

Taehyung looks like something out of a thriller. His eyes are dark and hungry, his shadowed face becoming some sort of demon of lust. He’s what you would imagine a dark god. A bacchanal devil, a creature made for sin.

All you can do is nod in response, feeling Taehyung’s vicious grip on your thighs as he presses you further, your muscles stretching. The strain feels good, as does the slow drip of your cunt down the curve of your ass mixed with his breath.

“So messy,” he murmurs, leaning forward and blowing cool air on your sticky folds. You squirm, the sensation sending you into overdrive as you twist your head to the side, eyes squeezed shut. He’s barely done a thing and you’re worked up more than you can ever recall. “Pretty.”

The slow, soft press of Taehyung’s tongue through your pussy makes you sag. It’s the relief that you so desperately needed, eyes rolling back as he circles your clit and drags his tongue back down. Taehyung is slow as he eats you out, tongue savoring every drop you can give him.

He taps your thigh, drawing your attention to him. He smirks as his tongue dips into your entrance, dragging back up to swirl around your throbbing bud a few times.

It’s impossible to tear your eyes away once you’re watching. Taehyung keeps his razor-sharp gaze on you, bringing his mouth fully to your cunt as he sucks eagerly. There is a rhythm to the curl of his tongue and the sharp suck of his lips, the wet smack of his ministrations driving you crazy.

“Mmm,” he hums, pressing his face in further. He’s messy with it, his jaw and nose covered in shiny slick. He laughs throatily when your back comes off the bed, thighs shaking. “Such a good pussy, just like I knew it would be.”

It feels too hot in the room. Your breaths are coming in too fast and there’s nothing you can do to catch it, Taehyung working you up to a frenzied, frenetic orgasm. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears, pumping so hard that you think you might need to stop.

And then you break.

Your body seizes as you come, a scream ripping through your mouth as Taehyung slurps hungrily at your mess, spurred by your release. You can’t stop shaking as he dives in, unwilling to stop until you’re babbling, nearly lifeless as the orgasm teeters into overstimulation.

Only then does Taehyung pull his mouth away, trailing wet, cum-spit kisses on your inner thigh, nipping your thigh here and there.

“Think you can take more?” he asks, slurring his words against your thigh. “Think you can take my cock.”

You nod eagerly, hand letting go of the sheets and reaching toward him. “Yes.”

“Mmm good. I’m about to bust.” He bites your knee. “And I don’t mean a bank, this time.”

#taehyung smut #kim taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfic #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #v smut #bts v

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thefantasyden · 1 month

Text

The Art of Resistance

Pairing: Hyunjin + F Reader

Genre: Angst, Slow Burn, Smut, Fluff.

Warnings: tension between exes, friends/exes to lovers, best friend Han, some arguing, teasing, unprotected sex, confessions of love, tender sex, hints of dirty talk, angry sex but not really.

Word Count: 5078

Synopsis: You and Hyunjin had already burned each other once. When Hyunjin gets a girlfriend, old feelings rear their ugly head, and you're forced to face the undeniable truth: He was never yours. Maybe he never would be.

Click here for the accompanying playlist

He was hesitant.

You had never known Hyunjin to be hesitant.

The Hyunjin you knew was always so sure of what he wanted. His touches may have been rushed and needy, but they were always firm in that he knew you were what he needed, and he had never felt an ounce of shame or fear in showing it.

But here he was. Sat 6 feet across from you as you watched him hesitate to put his arm around her shoulders as if he feared he may be burned by the action. Watching it unfold before your eyes felt wrong. He seemed so unstable and unsure in that moment that you almost swear it couldn't be your Hyunjin in that seat.

Truthfully, he wasn't your Hyunjin. Officially, he had never been your Hyunjin to begin with. You knew this. Your fear of commitment had blocked his path every time he had attempted to take what you had to a different place, and you could admit that. But he was yours in every way that mattered. He was yours at 2am when his panting filled your room and his lips locked with yours. He was yours in the afternoons when every stroke of his paintbrush was fueled by thoughts of you. He was yours deep within his heart when he diligently taped over the cracks you'd created because he thought having you in pieces was better than not having you at all.

She was nice enough. Small, gentle, and polite when she spoke. She was so vastly different from you. You who never feared taking up space. You who never fussed over the palatability of your words. You who consumed Hyunjins every waking thought with no regard to how desperately he was trying to distract himself by diving into everything that opposed you. She was nice enough, but she wasn't you.

"Isn't she a peach." Your voice rings like a bell in Hyunjins ears, his eyes locking on your face as you sink into one of the chairs placed to his left, your legs crossing as you sipped at your coffee Your tone was anything but genuine, a look of annoyance creasing your eyebrows where they furrowed.

"She's sweet. Pretty, too." He can't make eye contact when he speaks. He was still too weak for that, fully aware that your eyes were his biggest weakness. If he let his thoughts stray to the way they once sparkled when you looked at him, he wasn't sure he'd ever make it back.

You push the feeling of your heart being torn into by some unforgiving creature down to the pit of your stomach where it settles like sediment at the bottom of a murky river and purse your lips for only a moment before willing your face back to its neutral look of disinterest.

"You must really like her." You study his face while he formulates a response. He could never lie to you even on his worst days, and the brief knitting of his brows and subtle scrunch of his nose was telling enough on their own.

"She's nice..." There's nothing more for him to say, sure that the more he tried, the more he would be feeding in to the intention behind your question. He was determined not to do that anymore, even if it caused the strongest ache of despair to pulse in his chest.

It's as though he can't breathe when you walk away from him with little acknowledgement other than the soft nod of your head without a single hint of emotion to clue him into your thoughts. Any air he can manage stings at his lungs as his mind becomes a tangle of webs running circles which always lead back to you, even as the woman he's convinced everyone he has fallen for slips herself back into his arms with a warm smile on her face. All he can think is of how painfully different she was to the person who has brought him comfort for so long.

It's strange for you not to speak. Weeks pass with little more than "Are you okay?" From him to you even when you're sat on the couch of his dorm right in front of him, Han's arms wrapped around you as you feigned interest in the series he had been so eager to show you. You almost feel ashamed for depriving your devoted best friend of your full attention, but you're helpless as your mind wanders to a deep place within you that yearns for it to be Hyunjins arms that wrap delicately around your waist. The tension was thick and suffocating, and it seemed your dearest friend was the only one who was blissfully unaware of its weight.

"Hello? Baby, are you even listening to me." Jisungs voice calls to you through your cloudy thoughts, and you finally snap back to reality, humming a quiet apology to him.

"Sorry baby. What were you saying?" You almost think you see a look of disgust playing on Hyunjins face in your peripheral at the use of the pet name, however it's quickly dismissed as nothing more than wishful thinking.

"Channie, Changbin, and Hyunjin are gonna join us for dinner on Friday! Changbin is really excited about the long islands." The sweet man's voice echoes around your head as you fight to keep your attention on him, grateful for the break in conversation that you're offered when Chris starts shouting to him from the bathroom about the mess he continually left with his hair products. You're clear enough to spare a thought for the messiness of your friend and how endearing you found it, briefly noting your appreciation for the man who matched your chaos as you quietly make your way to the kitchen unnoticed, carefully avoiding any contact as you slink past Hyunjin to escape the unbearable proximity.

Friday sneaks up on you all too quickly, and you're packed into a booth with the four boys as Changbin rambles about how good the drinks are, paying no mind to the conversation as you study Hyunjins face, his eyes locked on his phone. You knew his expressions far too well to miss the frustration gracing his striking features, his bottom lip occasionally pulled between his teeth as the faintest sigh sounds through his nose.

"Hey, do you guys remember that one time we went to the river? The water balloon fight?"

The question holds thickly in the air and Hyunjins fingers grip his phone tighter, his eyes meeting yours as you acknowledge the memory that had caught you both by surprise.

You couldn't forget that day if you tried. You were freshly 18, sneaking around with the boys when they were just bright-eyed trainees. That day was one of the few fond memories you shared from the short time Hyunjin had truly been yours and the mint shampoo he used to use is almost too real to you as you're flooded with a confusing mixture of yearning and pain, the image of young Hyunjin laughing as you hid behind a tree, causing your chest to constrict with emotions you had spent years learning to crush into a box.

You're snapped back into focus by Changbin's warm laughter, half heartedly smiling along as the men shared their fondest moments. It feels like it goes on forever before you hear Chris speaking, unaware of the silence that follows.

"How's the girlfriend, Hyunjinnie?"

Jisung and Changbin share a look, and the warmth of your friends hand searching for yours under the table is a welcome anchor which you grip with a strength that you're sure you'll have to apologise for later, the silence almost deafening in spite of the bustling atmosphere of the world moving around your table.

"Yeah... she's... good. She's doing good." An uncomfortable laugh follows the response, and you don't attempt to hold back the astonished laugh that leaves you, the 3 drinks you'd downed at Changbins request having lowered your inhibitions just enough to loosen whatever filter you may have relied on if you'd been completely sober.

"You should have invited her, Hyune. She could be my new bestie." You practically sing the words, your voice holding a sickening sweetness that somehow only Jisung and Hyunjin catch, his eyes boring into yours as if the challenge you.

"I think she's probably too nice for you."

To anyone else, it would sound like a joke. It would just be playful banter between oldest friends. Unfortunately, you knew there was a specific kind of venom lacing those words that was reserved for only you.

It's the first time you've found yourself at a loss for words around him. At any other time, you would have found some variant of a witty response or backhanded compliment to cushion the blow, and you'd have recovered in mere seconds. You're almost embarrassed by the ferocity with which such simple words were currently burrowing their way into your stomach to settle in every deep dark crevice of your being.

You stifle your self-pity with another round of drinks and find yourself graced with a welcome numbness that leads to a complete lack of hesitation on your part when Chris suggest you spend the night at their dorm, his concern for your safety having you in immediate agreement. It's not a shock that their are no objections and Hyunjin is grateful that he has been spared the task of inviting you himself, having long accepted that his own concern will always outweigh any rational thinking he may subject himself to.

You've sobered up ever so slightly by the time you're stumbling through the door to the dorm, Changbin glued to your hip as your giggle about something only the two of you were clued in to, the remnants of that joy following you through the rest of your evening as if blanketing your brain in a way that would finally offer you some semblance of peace from your usual pining.

Even the deepest of joys can't last a lifetime, however, and you're forced to remember that fact when you're sitting on the kitchen counter with a mouthful of ice cream, your one vice interrupting your silent musings with the same light footsteps that you'd memorised with frightening detail.

"I didn't know you were up."

There's no distain in his tone like you might have expected. There's barely an ounce of disinterest. He's almost... warm, with something akin to worry tinting the tips of his words.

"Well, I am." You shoot back blankly, fixated on your spoon as it dug senselessly into the tub you were holding.

"You know... it's a shame about your girlfriend..." A strange sense of confidence fills you, and you finally dare to look up, breath hitching in your throat for just a second as you take in the sight of Hyunjins messy hair and his plump lips, his eyes heavy from sleep. It was hard to think he could be anything but an angel when he was the picture of beauty. "I miss you sometimes."

He doesn't miss the twinge of honey dripping from your words, a faint smile tugging the corner of your lips.

"Don't..."

"Sorry, baby. You're right." You hum to yourself, tucking the lid back onto your tub and pushing away from the counter, cracking the freezer open to hide the evidence of your late night affair. "I shouldn't be so quick to confess things like this, should I."

Hyunjin can't sleep that night. He can't sleep most nights when he's fixated on you. Did you really miss him? He knows better than to think you were just playing with him. You act tough and heartless, but he's seen you with all of the boys. He's seen the way you jump to help when one of them needs you. He's seen you lay on the ground to avoid scaring stray cats. Hyunjin knows your heart as much as you try to hide it from him. He spends hours hunched over his sketchbook, and he doesn't realise how early it's gotten until he hears you leaving at 6 am, your boots thumping against the floors. He would never understand why things had to be so complicated.

None of the boys see you for a week and a half after that. Even Jisung can't get you to come see him for more than a moment. The running excuse is that you're busy with work, and it's a pathetic attempt at a lie when there's never been a day throughout your friendship that you weren't willing to drop everything to see your favourite boys.

This is the longest Hyunjin has ever gone without speaking to you, and the ache in his chest is constant and burning. You'd been one of the most consistent parts of his life all these years in spite of how messy your relationship was, and it was to the point where he couldn't remember life without you. He couldn't even bear to think of it. The way he needed you was something that was embedded in his soul at this point. It was instinctual, altering him on a chemical level and he wanted to hate it almost as much as he wanted you.

There's a loud knock at your door that startles you out of your self pitying daydreams from where you've been nesting on your couch, nursing your disheveled feelings. It doesn't prompt movement from you until you hear it a second time, quieter than the last. You still don't open the door, however. Not until your phone lights up with a 3 word request from the person you'd least expect.

"Hyunjin?" You only slightly open the door, but he doesn't falter as he pushes past you and into your living room. His face is flushed, and his hair is messy, yet you still think he looks like the product of some divine intervention.

"Why are you doing this?" His voice cracks briefly, and his eyes are searching yours for some sign of understanding, groaning when he can't find what he's looking for. He's fueled entirely by repressed emotions when he reaches out to grab your face, his lips connecting with your own in a bold kiss that knocks the breath from your lungs, your body being pressed back against the door as you fail to return Hyunjins passion, frozen by your pulsing confusion.

"I broke up with her."

You blink back at him, your face remaining blank as you process what he's said. You don't want to believe that it had anything to do with you, unable to handle the idea of getting your hopes up only for them to be crushed again.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"No you're not! Do you even know how fucking unfair this is?! I was trying so hard to get over you!"

The words set something alight within you and you're pulling him closer by his belt to plant a kiss that could rival the previous, his hands sinking in to the flesh of your hips. He can't get close enough to you, but his body pressed flush against your own would have to suffice as you force his coat off and his hands slip under your shirt to wrap around your back.

Every touch is the product of years of pent-up anger and confusion, your mouths only parting briefly as you stumble down the hall toward your bedroom. Your skin burns as he moves from your mouth to your neck, his teeth nipping painfully at the skin as if it was his life's mission to mark you, itching to claim you in the only way he thought you might allow.

"You're gonna kill me. God. Do you know what you've done to me?"

His teeth trail along your shoulder, his fingers tugging at your shirt until you help him remove it, his thoughts interrupted by the sight of your unmarked body bare in front of him. He's not sure where to begin with the sheer volume of things he wants to do with you.

"I haven't done a fucking thing." You spit the words out, aggressively reconnecting your lips with his own while he lays your body back against your bed, fumbling as he unbutton his jeans and attempts to kick them off with about as much grace as Bambi. You're doing you both a favor when you take his distraction as an opportunity to slip your shorts off, reveling in the hungry look on his face when he finally lays eyes on your uncovered pussy. He can't think about trying to get his underwear off, choosing only to push them down just enough to free his aching cock. He'd usually take his time with you, always ensuring you were ready for him, but there wasn't time for that now. It had been so long without you that he was on the edge of losing his mind if he didn't have you.

Your hips press up toward him, and he locks his hands under your thighs, pressing them up toward you as he takes your desperation as an invitation, rutting his cock along your slit just enough to cover it in your fluids for a superficial attempt at easing the burn as he plunges into you, watching your pussy stretch to accommodate him as he inches the entire length of his cock inside of you. He should be concerned by the wave of feelings that crash over him. He shouldn't feel so at home in your bed and he shouldn't feel like he was finally able to breathe with his throbbing cock sheathed deep inside your dripping cunt, but he did. The small amount of shame and guilt he might have felt about the circumstances of your reunion is swept out of his mind the second he hears your sweet, airy moans.

Your nails are digging into his back, desperately trying to pull him closer to you as he begins thrusting into you slow and forceful, tip brushing against your gspot with every movement as your thighs are pressed closer to your chest. He ignores your quiet pleas for him, fixated on where you're connected. There wasn't a single thought running through his mind that wasn't about claiming you. Even if he couldn't have you in the way he so deeply craved, he was determined to make sure your body would only ever be satisfied with him.

"You drive me insane. You know that?" He whispers to you, dropping your thighs in favor of planting his hands beside your torso, taking in the look of pleasure on your face. You attempt to hide yourself under your arms, and he immediately grabs at your wrists, pinning them beside your head as his hips speed up, fucking into you like he had something to prove.

"You've fucking ruined me. How am I supposed to move on when I've seen you like this?"

He pauses, pulling out to manhandle you on to all fours, your ass in the air captivating him as he presses into you again, gripping your hips as his own snap into you, burying his cock to the hilt repeatedly, your face smothered into the pillows as you do your best to cover your moans. He won't have it. His hand finds your hair, and his fingers tug at the strands, forcing your head to the side so that he can hear the beautiful whines and whimpers that flow from you like his favourite melody.

You've never finished just from his cock before, but the way you clench rapidly around him has him convinced he can make it happen and when he sees tears stinging in your eyes, he knows he can. The filthy sounds of your dripping cunt consume him as his cock is swallowed by your walls, your moans becoming choked out breaths as your cunt grips him almost painfully, spasming around him.

He carefully rolls his hips into yours to help your ride out your high, and once he's sure you're finished, he's pressing the full force of his body against yours, pinning you to the mattress as he uses your overstimulated cunt to push himself over the edge, barely able to pull out successfully before he's painting your ass with thick ropes of white, his vision blurring and his ears ringing with the intensity of his orgasm.

It takes him a few minutes to find the strength to roll off of you, his mind just clear enough for him to think to grab a handful of tissues from your bedside table to clean you off with before he was settling into your sheets beside you. He'd almost forgotten how familiar your home was. The scent of your laundry detergent, the plush toys that littered your bed. It's all a painful reminder of what he almost had. What he's never quite been able to call his.

"I'm sorry..." Your words are mumbled between sniffles as the dam of emotions you've both been nursing for years finally comes crashing down, and he's reaching for your hand, carefully intertwining your fingers. It's unclear to him whether the action was to settle you or himself.

"What do you want from me?" He sounds hurt. The pain he's been feeling is clear as ever, and you can't stop the tears from flowing, turning on to your side to face away from him as you sobbed. He couldn't handle it, wrapping himself around you and holding you as close as he could, his own tears staining his skin as he pressed soft kisses to the back of your head.

"All I've ever wanted was you."

He's about to question you when you turn in his grasp, finally meeting his eyes. His heart breaks at the evidence of your own heartache, and he wants nothing more than to take it all away from you.

"I'm scared, Hyunjin. We've been here before. We ruined it." You sniffle again, and he instinctively reaches up to wipe your tears with his thumb, a frown painting his features as he allowed you to feel your feelings.

"I can't lose you."

He breaks. The tears are flowing between you, and he's holding your head against his shoulder as you bawl, quietly whispering that you're okay and that he's there. Through all the years of chaos, he had never once thought about leaving you. He couldn't. You were the living embodiment of everything pure and meaningful to him.

"Baby." He whispers, hand sneaking under your chin to tilt your head up so he can meet your gaze. "You won't lose me. You can't." He pauses for a moment, debating with himself over his next words. He has his own fears about being so vulnerable, but in the safety of your room, he's sure he can find the confidence to be honest with you.

"I think... I think it was always supposed to be us. I know that I was made to exist with you. And if somehow we were only made to crash and burn, then that's exactly how I want to go down."

There's no way for you to respond that would do him justice, and you have to opt for your lips meeting his, pouring as much passion into the kiss as you could and hoping he could feel it too.

He could. He always does. He's holding your cheek, thumb rubbing circles on your skin as he kisses you back with a hint of desperation, pushing you just a little so that he's leaning over you now, your bodies never disconnecting, even when you're panting for breath. You're not so worried about suffocating when his tongue plays at your lips, and you welcome the intrusion as it mingles with your own, your combined spit coating your lips as you try feverishly to consume each other in every way humanly possible.

The feeling of him shifting to his rightful place between your legs is another much needed sensation, and you wrap them around him as if to trap him there, scared you might wake up from the dream you were experiencing.

"Baby." He pulls away from you and presses feather light kisses to your neck as he whispers. "Can I taste you? Need to show you how much I want you."

Words won't make their way from your lips, fearing your voice might crack. You nod eagerly, tugging at his hair slightly to convey just how much you needed him.

There's no second thoughts. Nothing could stop him as he moved carefully until he was lying on his stomach, arms wrapped around your thighs as he tentatively licks a firm strip along your slit. He'd almost forgotten how sinfully good you tasted. It was like an addiction for him and once he started, there was no chance of him stopping.

He laps at your clit for a while, playing with the pressure and alternating with sucking gently at the bundle of nerves. He can feel every new wave of arousal dripping from your already soaked cunt. The delicious sounds you make spur him on, a finger teasing at your entrance as his tongue dips down to drink you straight from the source, a growl sounding in his throat as the taste of you encompasses his senses, surrounding him from every angle.

You're begging him for more before he finally presses his finger inside of you, the rigid feeling of your walls becoming accustomed to him lulling him into a deeper sense of comfort. It was something spiritual to have you like this for him. The feeling of peace and pride that coursed through him made him feel as if the entire purpose of his creation was to worship you.

He knows one finger isn't enough, and he has to place an arm over your hips to hold you down, slowly easing a second finger inside of you. There's nothing he loves more than the way you plead for him, whining as his tongue resumes its efforts on your clit, circling the bud and sucking firmly as his fingers massage your gspot, your walls clenching around him as he pushed you toward your second orgasm.

You can't think, overwhelmed by the flames of pleasure lapping at your skin as you tried foolishly to fight back your high, practically screaming his name as it all came crashing down on you, your cunt squeezing his fingers and making it difficult for him to continue, choosing to use his other hand to rub your clit and ensure you got the full force of the pleasure he was offering you.

You swear you've been given a glimpse of heaven. Your hands are grabbing at him, needing him to soothe your overwhelm, which he is equally as eager to do, kisses planting across your cheeks and mouth. His body is flush with yours, and his hands are smoothing across your arms and thighs, taking in how soft your skin was under his touch.

"Hyune. Please."

He knows what you're asking for. He always knows exactly what you need and when you're so sweet beneath him, asking so politely for him, he can't deny you.

"Okay baby. You're okay."

He's careful this time, taking it slow as he nudges his cock into your aching entrance, his fingers lacing with yours where he presses your hands into the mattress. His touch is gentle, and he's pouring every ounce of his love into you, hips grinding lazily against you as he stimulates your gspot. The way you stare up at him with wide eyes and your mouth open slightly has his heart fluttering, and he needs to kiss you again, groaning into your mouth as your tongues meet, your own sounds swallowed by his needy kisses as his thrust pick up speed, an arm sliding under your waist allowing him to tilt your hips up, his rhythm stuttering when you gasp at the new position. You felt so full and so hungry for anything he could give you. You needed to be consumed by him.

"I love you." He whispers against your lips and your cunt squeezes him in response, your eyes briefly searching his for any sign of hesitation before you return his sentiment, whispering your declarations of love against his mouth like a prayer that only he could understand.

The two of you have never made love like this, and he never wants it to stop but the way you grip him has him dangerously close to the edge and there's nothing he can do to stop himself from letting go when you start begging him to fill you. Your words are almost incoherent, and you look like you're going to start sobbing if he says no. He wants nothing more than to make you feel good. He wants to give you everything you could ever ask for and show how devoted he was to you. To his soul mate.

"Gonna fill you, baby. Gonna claim you."

The possessive statement combined with your overstimulation has you cumming on his cock before you can even realise, the throb of your cunt milking his cock as spurts of his cum fill you to the point where it's overflowing around Hyunjins length.

He fucks you through it until it's painful for him and even then, he can't bring himself to pull out, instead scooping you into his arms so that he can hold you tight to his chest, your heartbeats matching rhythm as your breath syncs and for the first time in a long time, everything feels right. There's nothing but love between you, and it feels like everything has finally fallen into place as you drift off into the sweetest dreams.

You're both MIA for 2 days, hidden away in your apartment getting reacquainted with each other in your best attempt to make up for lost time. It's not until Chris shows up at your door with Jisung, only intending to check in on you when they see him Hyunjin walking out of your bathroom in a towel and finally connect the dots.

It's no surprise when they force you to let them in, grilling you both for every detail, Jisung squealing in delight when you finally get to telling them that you were together again. The surprise comes later when they tell you that they've all been rooting for you the entire time because you were the only two people in the world blind enough to miss the obvious feelings you'd both been harbouring.

#hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin fic #hyunjin x y.n #hyunjin x reader #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids hyunjin smut #stray kids hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x y/v #hyunjin x you #hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin fluff #stray kids hyunjin fluff

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lovesickeros · 8 months

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☆ even the gods bleed

{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood, injury, light angst {☆} word count 2.3k

What was justice?

Focalors had asked herself that question many times during the long nights she spends awake pouring over the prophecy of a dead God, words replaying in her mind like a broken record until the sun rose like a blooming flower.

She was the God of Justice, an Archon, yet she herself lacked the answer to such a simple and yet so very complex question.

How does one define what is just and what is not? How does she know that what she believes to be just is right? Is it justice if one being alone may sway the scales of justice on a whim? What justice is there to be found in the cold, watery grave that awaits her nation?

She does not know.

Perhaps she may never know.

What she does know, at least, is that this is not justice.

It is a mockery of it.

She stands before the bloodied, broken body like the judge, her sword held so tightly in her hand her fingers feel stiff, a dull ache adding to the weight of what she's seen. For a long, horrible moment she almost thinks they are dead – something she would have reveled in, only a day prior – before she sees the subtle rise and fall of their chest. Breathing, but barely.

The rain felt heavier upon her shoulders at the realization – she was not sure if it was in relief or horror.

Her nails dig into her palm, mind stuck somewhere between that abject horror and confusion so palpable she swore she could hear the gears in her head turning.

For a long, silent moment as she stares upon the body beneath the heavy rain..she wonders if this is how it all ends instead. If the world itself will simply crumple in on itself and cease – without its heart, it will wither, after all – long before the waters ever swallow her nation whole.

Because, try as she might to rationalize it, for every drop of rain that hits her like pins and needles, soaking her down to the bone..the body of the imposter is completely dry. Even the water pooling along the stones dares not to leave so much as a splotch against their ragged, torn clothes.

She remembers the meeting so very clearly, and she thinks she is a fool to not have noticed sooner – the Creator upon their gilded throne, finger pointed in accusation at the visage far too similar to their own. The imposter. She remembers the lilt of their voice as they called for their death as easily as one would speak of the weather – and to no one other then herself would she admit the spark of fear it had ignited within her. Because beneath the divine charade there was a sick enjoyment in the way they looked upon the imposter – like a bug beneath their shoe.

She understands, now.

She had thought that perhaps finally – finally – she could do right by her people, by her Creator, if she rid Teyvat of this..intrusion.

Now she sees herself as what it all really is – blind lambs following the herder.

Perhaps she would be considered a heretic under the eyes of the law – beneath the weight of justice, heavy as the heart that bears its sins. Perhaps this is a mistake, one she would come to regret.

But for now, she sheathes her blade with unsteady hands, the sound making her ears ring – for what she had almost done, what she had already done – as she stumbles like a newborn lamb towards the broken body of..

..What, exactly? Human? Divine? She is not so sure what to call them. Creator? No. The name is bitter upon her tongue, now, burning like liquid flame down her throat.

Where once she had spoken it in reverence and admiration, it felt hollow and empty, now.

Her vision wavers as she kneels down against the rain soaked stones, the rain upon her back growing heavier as she reaches a shaky hand forth – and for a moment, however brief, she feels the weight of expectation, of a title she fears she may never live up to, wash away with the waters that fall from the heavens.

The bruises and blood smeared across their skin are like strokes of a paintbrush, their body the canvas from which such horrid art is created. It makes her ill.

Doubt wavers her composure briefly – her position is already unsteady. She has never been seen as an equal to many of the other Archons. Her own people do not see her as their Archon, but an actor in a grand play that they shall simply toss aside and replace like a broken doll the moment she bores them.

What does she have left to lose?

She reaches out again, her hand settling onto their shoulder and turning them onto their back. She..isn't sure what to do, actually. She's never been particularly physically capable – she tended to avoid fights, even if she oft provoked them – and she was certainly no healer.

Yet what choice does she have but to march on anyway? She is in the heart of the city, it is far more dangerous here then anywhere else..she had little time to make her move.

Fontaine was, after all, a nation founded on the principle of justice. To know an injustice has been made against the most Divine..the entire nation was in a frenzy.

Her eyes dart around nervously, hands clasped tight on their shoulders and her lips drawn into a taut line – someone would notice her absence. One of the Archons would point out her absence in the coordination of the search.

Her options were just as limited as her time – she couldn't just take them out of the city. Security was tight, and as much as she fancied herself an escape artist – Neuvillette could hardly keep her in one place for too long – she doubted she could do the same with the limp body of the imposter in tow.

..The Palais Mermonia it was, then.

Her room had a secret entrance that few knew about, and even fewer would dare to traverse. She just..had to hide them there for a bit and hope Neuvillette wouldn't notice anything different.

Probably.

Still, there was the problem of actually..transporting the body. As grim as it sounded. Her only solace was the fact she didn't have to worry about them catching a cold, at least, and their breaths were still audible, if only barely. So she had to resort to some..unexpected methods.

Seeing the limp form of, well, the imposter – she'd really have to ask for something else to call them when they woke up – stuck in a bubble of hydro wasn't exactly on her bucket list.

Then again, neither was treason.

Well, first time for everything, right?

It wasn't breaking the law if no one else knew about it.

..Neuvillette didn't have to know about it, really. It was fine.

She could, of course, technically try to talk some sense into Neuvillette – he'd listen to her, right? She thought she was pretty close with him..but he was also the one person more obsessed with justice then she was. Such a stickler for the law..so maybe she's breaking a few, it's fine.

But he was also pretty devout, as much as he tried to keep his worship private – with Focalors around, nothing was really secret. Maybe she could get him to settle down long enough to prove it.

..How was she going to prove it?

An exaggerated groan escaped her lips as she led the bubbled imposter – she really wished she didn't have to resort to that, it would be a lot a more awkward to explain then dragging the body around – through the winding streets of Fontaine. She's just glad she's already memorized the entire city like the back of her hand..and a little dramatics went a long way. People listened when the Hydro Archon spoke, and she was suddenly very, very glad for that fact, even if they treated her more like a mascot then a God.

And partially because she, maybe, just a little..stole a few documents detailing the layout and a little personal exploration of her own – but what Neuvillette didn't know couldn't hurt him!

After what felt like hours, though was really no more then half an hour at best, she'd managed to drag herself – soaked to the bone with rain – and the conveniently bubbled imposter up through the secret entrance and into her room.

The perceived safety, as flimsy as it was, was..comforting. Until she heard the rustle of fabric, the clearing of a throat and the pop of a bubble as she, in her surprise, popped it – and then the thud of the imposter hitting the floor.

She felt a bit of regret about that part, at least, wincing.

"Lady Furina." His voice was as sharp and cool as she remembered it always being – like fresh spring water, she'd heard it described. Soothing. It did not feeling very soothing right about now.

She turned sharply on her heel, a forced smile tugging at her lips on reflex, every muscle in her body tensed – she probably looked like a wet cat right about now, soaked with rain, but that was the last thing on her mind.

"Do you mind explaining what, exactly, you did?" Not what you're doing, she notes – what she did. He was mad. Oh, she was really in for a scolding now. She twiddled her thumbs, laughing weakly, though it quickly dies out at the awkward, tense silence.

"Well, you see – it's rather complicated! I can– I can explain." Her attempts to diffuse are met with a raised brow and the sharp tap of his cane. Every single thought is plagued with the urge to run, but the unsteady breathes of the 'imposter' keep her rooted in place. "Well?"

She was sweating bullets, her nails digging into her palm as she scrambled for any excuse that could warrant her not getting hauled off and scolded thoroughly at best – she was coming up empty. How was she supposed to prove that the 'imposter' was very much not what the 'Creator' said they were? Their unconscious body was doing no one any favors, certainly.

"The Creator is lying," She blurts out, immediately regretting her impulsiveness when she feels the sudden weight of his stare – the piercing hues of his eyes that remind her just who is the strongest between them. It is not her, she knows. It never has been. "You can see for yourself! Don't you trust me, Neuvillette–?"

Her voice is cut off by the sharp click of his cane as he strides across the room in only a few steps, his height making her feel like a child about to scolded. She hated it, but she grit her teeth through the exchange. She reminded herself that this was for the sake of the 'imposter' and any affront to her ego was..tolerable.

To her credit, too, she didn't immediately lash out when she saw him poke at their body with his cane, turning them onto their back – she wanted too, though. She considered it, but the thought was quickly shot down when his stare turned back upon her, and she felt frozen in place again, her tongue a heavy weight in her mouth.

Yet she couldn't shake the sudden tenseness to his shoulders, his brows furrowed and a distant look to his eyes. It was..haunting, in a way.

She knows it well, she realizes. The realization and acceptance, the crumbling of every solid foundation you've ever known – leaving you to flounder in the waves, alone and afraid.

The gentleness in which he picks up the limp body surprises her though, his cane set aside. The rain howls like a horrid storm outside, but she cannot focus on anything but the furrow of their brows, the soft noise that escapes their lips.

"I trust that you know that this must stay between us," His voice is soft, like the gentle lap of waves against the shore, as he sets their body down against the bed, his hand lingering against their cheek with something almost like reverence – and if her eyes do not deceive her, affection. "Lady Furina."

She does not hesitate to agree.

"Well– well of course!" She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning at the feeling of her wet clothes clinging to her skin, a heavy weight that feels like it's dragging her down. "Just what do you take me for?"

He doesn't deign to respond.

It only makes her fume more.

Not that he seems to notice, unbuttoning his heavy outerwear and tossing it on the bed, rolling up his sleeves and focusing on the injured– er..yeah, she really needed a new name for them. Calling them imposter felt wrong.

"So long as you understand, then we will have no problems." She huffs again, pouting and puffing up her cheeks, sitting down on the other end of the bed with only an occasional glance towards him as he worked at peeling away the ragged clothes and examining the injuries marring their skin.

She suddenly felt out of place.

..What was she supposed to be doing?

As if noticing her sudden quietness, Neuvillette sighed, his back turned to her though his attention very much falling upon her. She really hated the feeling like she was being dissected whenever he looked at her. It was unnerving. She doesn't know how anyone else handles it..

"If you are so eager to do something, Lady Furina, then please have something brought up for when our..guest awakens. They will need to recover their strength."

Finally! Something she can do. She perks up, her heels clicking on the floorboards as she darts out like a bullet, unable to stay still for so much as a moment.

Neuvillette, for his part..

Feels an odd sense of serenity as he stares upon the troubled features of the..guest. A peace that lessens the burdens upon his shoulders, the weight of a nation upon his back.

He cannot hear the rain, anymore.

..It must have stopped.

#sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin impact #fic tag #imposter au #focalors #furina #neuvillete #a family can be a dragon an archon and his 300 other children who reverse adopted him #u date him its a package deal sorry #u now have like 300 children g-dspeed #also tagged spoilers on neuvi's part bc its kinda a spoiler??? sort of #also this can be read as platonic or romantic on neuvi's part #can u tell i like focalors btw :)#also gonna be swapping between focalors/furina bc SOMEONE sent me a theory and it sent me spiraling im gonna be ill #u know who u r and ur days r numbered #can be read as romantic between reader & neuvi but only bc i know focalors rubs it in his face she found the actual creator first #anyway can u tell focalors is my fav pt2 i wont shut up abt her its terminal atp #focalors..................#anyway *doesnt post fr months. randomly drops a 2k word fic. leaves and doesnt elaborate*#starts out v serious ends v silly #wrote this in one sitting im gonna go pass out now gn

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flockoff · 2 months

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In a another world, Peak of Combat has a plot that involves Time Travel Shenanigans which puts V in one of the Funniest Situations.

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azaisya · 1 month

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@just-another-linguist and @melestasflight both requested Fingon which was v exciting. Fingon is one of the characters that really stuck with me the first time I read the Silm, but I’ve never actually drawn him. In my mind this is like a Valinor-era Fingon!

#fingon #silmarillion #silm art #silmarillion fanart #tolkien fanart #candlesart #here down in the valley #I’d started reading the silm after I’d just finished reading this v extensive aragorn&legolas series #that mostly just involved one of them getting whumped and the other having to rescue him #it was a fantastic time. ‘mellon’ was possibly in the title #anyway it was pure h/c w a side of road trips and so when fingon went on his road trip to rescue maedhros #my brain immediately supplemented the like paragraph of description w the tens of thousands of words of a&l fic I’d just read #which. given that my first read of the silm was mostly just a blur of names and locations #made fingon and his rescue incredibly memorable

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ashanimus · 1 year

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Fanart from @carpisuns's seriously adorable fic, the Death Defying Flirting Methods of Willow Park!

#toh #the owl house #toh hunter #hunter noceda #willow park #toh willow #huntlow #the owl house fanart #carpisuns #sorry this is so late omg #everyone if you haven't read the fic please go check it out it's adorable #I actually squealed #in the meantime enjoy my horrible left handed writing #fairytalesandfolklore #lollytea #thank you both for the consulting help :v #ash art

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nuzipilled · 2 months

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been really normal about @interstyx ‘s fic kenosis as of late, really great character study + made me feel things. huge thx to @drowninginfelines for the rec

#i was gonna draw more but i got lazy #uzi doorman #murder drones #glitch productions #murder drones fanart #murder drones v #i think this is the first time ive drawn her actually #this fic is probably one of the best ive read and im picky #serial designation v #vuzi #?#not technically ship but u can tag it as that if u want idc #i see them w more of a sisterly bond tho #my stuff

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say-al0e · 29 days

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What Are Friends For

Rating: M | This is smut, no one under 18! Minors, DNI!

Summary: A conversation with friends reminds you that you're about to begin college as a virgin. It bothers you more than you care to admit so you consult your best friend, Eddie; is virginity really that much of a turn off? (Or, best friend!Eddie takes your virginity) Warnings: virgin!reader, PinV, some nerves about virginity and first times. Pairing: Eddie x fem!Reader Word Count: 7.2k

Eddie sat on his bedroom floor, one knee bent with an elbow resting atop it, in a rare display of quiet contemplation. With his back pressed to the dresser, cigarette in one hand and a pen in the other, he scribbled in the notebook he used to write lyrics and, occasionally, plan campaigns.

Rain pattered against the roof of the trailer, heavy and loud and easily drowning out the tape Eddie had playing to fill the quiet. From your perch on his bed, yellowed paperback held open in your hands, you could see it falling in sheets outside the window. With the weather so dreary, there was little you could do other than sit inside - bored, miserable, rereading a book borrowed from Eddie’s shelf that you could practically recite in your sleep - and with him otherwise occupied, you were left alone with thoughts you preferred not to dwell on.

Though you’d read the book in hand a dozen times, could recite the notes Eddie’d scribbled in the margins by heart, if he asked, it would be impossible to relay where in the plot you’d stopped. The words that usually captivated you blurred into one, a mess of nonsensical characters in fading ink, so you dropped it into the sheets with a quiet sigh and rolled onto your side to glance at Eddie in hopes of finding a distraction.

The dark curls you loved were tamed into a low bun, hair swept away from his neck to provide some sort of relief from the oppressive summer heat, with a few strands framing his face. The plush of his lips were swollen, bitten in concentration over the course of the day as he stared intently at the paper. Those dark eyes were narrowed in concentration as he scribbled relentlessly and you could see the tip of his tongue as he pressed it between his lips.

Eddie’s leather jacket and battle vest were replaced by a cutoff Metallica shirt, cropped at the bottom to expose his lower stomach - the band of his shorts, the missing band of his underwear, the dark smattering of hair just beneath his navel between splotches of ink trailing into the band of his shorts - every time he shifted. Most of his tattoos were on display, save for the ones near his collarbones, and you wondered if he realized you could draw most of them from memory.

It would’ve been nice to be able to say that you were struck, just in that moment, by how attractive Eddie was. To confess that you’d never noticed how achingly beautiful your best friend was would’ve been a lie as his beauty was something you’d always seen.

Few things baffled you more than how people - closed-minded classmates, shallow girls who sought out pigheaded jocks - saw Eddie as anything other than breathtakingly beautiful. His personality was enough, a kind heart and a brilliant mind, but personality aside, you always thought he looked like someone out of a magazine. He was a rockstar stuck in tiny little Hawkins, a figure from your wildest fantasies brought to life.

The wild curl of his hair, the slope of his nose, the curve of his jaw, the bright glimmer of his eyes; it all made you giddy, a little lovesick in a way only Nikki Sixx had so far managed. With every glimpse of Eddie that you stole, you grew a little more enamored and as a conversation you’d had earlier that morning simmered at the forefront of your mind, you wondered if that was part of the problem.

A conversation with friends, the majority of whom rarely pressed about your love life - mostly because they knew there was nothing to share, in part due to your feelings for Eddie - that began as excited chatter about college, classes, and, ultimately, boys, sent you spiraling.

Somehow, the conversation went from playful fun to pressing for details about your lack of dates and, finally, a shared certainty that college would change things for you. However, an off-handed comment about inexperience being a turn-off made you question whether college would change anything at all.

Pulling yourself back to reality, reminding yourself that the only opinion that mattered was your own, proved impossible. Every thought that crossed your mind centered on your inexperience, a trait your friends acknowledged and giggled at, and you couldn’t stop yourself from calling out.

“Eddie?”

If he noticed the tremor in your voice - and, this time, he likely didn’t - he said nothing. Instead, he hummed his acknowledgement. “What’s up, sweetheart?”

The pet name was casual, something that slipped off his tongue easily, just as it had done a thousand times before without a second thought, but it never failed to set fire to your skin. There was something about the way his voice wrapped around the word, a little rough around the edges but dripping honey - a little darker, a little deeper - in a tone you’d never been privy to, that had your heart hammering in your chest. The thud of it was loud, drowned out the music and the rain, and you wondered if Eddie could hear it, too, as he glanced up at you for the first time in an hour.

Whatever expression you thought you’d hidden, however careful you imagined you’d been, Eddie saw right through you. With only a tentative glance at your face, his lips pulled into a frown as he dropped his composition book into a pile of laundry before shuffling closer to you. When he sat with his back pressed to the bed, arm lifting to rest on the mattress as his hand sought yours, you could see the concern clouding his eyes. “You alright?”

A brief thought of brushing him off, of pretending that you were fine - bored, or maybe tired, just for an excuse to have sought his attention - but Eddie knew you well. He’d seen your face, caught the glimpse of upset in your eyes, and wouldn’t settle for anything less than a real answer.

With a sigh, you wrapped your arms around your knees and spared him a sideways glance. “I… You know how I’ve never…”

An annoyed huff, bothered by how difficult it seemed to be just to say the words, escaped as you shook your head. Eddie tipped his to get a better look at your face and the weight of his gaze burning into your skin made it difficult to concentrate. Regardless of the knowledge that this was Eddie - someone who loved you, someone who wouldn’t judge you or laugh at you, despite how objectively stupid you imagined you were being - it was still difficult to string together a coherent sentence.

“Can you not look at me, please? I can’t think with you looking at me.”

Eddie was unfazed by your request. It was one he’d grown used to over the years, one you threw at him every time you wanted to discuss something serious - or embarrassing or simply vulnerable - and couldn’t find the nerve. So, instead of questioning you, he simply pushed himself up and climbed onto the bed to join you. He shifted his body to press his back to the wall, stretched his legs across the mattress, and held out a hand.

“Alright, c’mere.”

When you placed your hand in his, shifted onto your knees to shuffle a little closer, Eddie twined his fingers with yours and tugged. With little effort, he hauled you onto his lap. A soft hand pressed to the back of your head and guided your face to hide in the crook of his neck - a position you’d been in a thousand times before, a position that made you feel safe to bare your soul.

This time, however, you felt your heart begin to hammer against your ribcage as you grew overwhelmingly aware of the heat of Eddie’s body pressed to yours. Everything seemed too clear, too loud, too real; the green apple scent of his shampoo, the herbal hint of weed that always seemed to linger, the softness of his skin as your hand rested against his bicep, the firm press of his body as he held you in place, the callous of his fingers as his hands slipped beneath the hem of your shirt to brush at the bare skin of your back.

It was almost too much.

Rather than comforting, you felt Eddie’s touch set your skin alight. It needled at your nerve endings, hastened the pace of your already spiraling thoughts, and you nearly lost your train of thought as he hummed to regain your attention.

“Talk to me, sweetheart.”

The rasp of his voice in your ear, warm and soft and concerned in a way he only ever seemed to be for you, cut clear through the hammering of your heart. It filled your chest with a sticky warmth and you inhaled as deep as you could in an effort to steel yourself for the conversation you weren’t certain you wanted to have.

“You know how I had breakfast with my friends this morning?” Eddie hummed, acknowledging the plans you’d had before the day devolved into rain and quiet. “We were talking and I know it’s stupid, but I just… I started thinking about it and I couldn’t stop.”

Eddie hummed, acknowledging and encouraging you to continue, as he waited patiently. “I’ve never really been on a date and guys don’t really like me. That’s fine, I guess. I mean, it’s not,” you amended, huffing slightly as you traced his tattoo idly. “But there’s not a lot I can do to change it. Anyway, they were kind of laughing about it. They were talking about college changing things and then Amanda said it would be a major turnoff and I… Well, she’s right. I don’t want to go to college a virgin who’s never even held hands with someone romantically. It’s not a major deal but I haven’t even had my first kiss yet and I really don’t want to have some cute college guy ask me to make out and have to tell him that I’ve never done that and him think I’m a total loser and lose interest in me.”

The entire confession spilled past your lips in a rushed whisper, mumbled against Eddie’s skin in a hurried huff as you wasted no time thinking. Thinking about it, agonizing over how to express your concern, would only make it harder and you knew that getting it all out in the open would be the easiest option.

Still, that did little to calm your racing heart as Eddie’s hands stilled against your skin.

“Sweetheart.” He sighed, understanding and just a little gentler than you were accustomed to, as he lifted one hand to cup your cheek. “Look at me, please.” With great effort, you allowed him to tip your head so that he could search your face. After a beat of silence, he assured you. “There’s nothing wrong with still being a virgin and it’s not a turnoff. If some asshole college guy thinks any different of you, that’s his loss. Just means he’s not the one for you.”

Rationally, you knew that.

That was something you’d told yourself a thousand times over, a reminder repeated every time the topic arose. But rationality had little place in the whirlwind of emotion the conversation drudged up.

“I know,” you promised him, dipping your head to focus on the fading letters of his t-shirt. Tracing the nearly destroyed ink, you hummed. “I just… I don’t want to be pressured into it and I don’t want it to be a bad memory. I know it’s not going to be perfect but I just want it to be good. I want it to be like something from a movie.” Though you didn’t really want to know, though you knew it would only curdle the already sour thoughts in the pit of your stomach, you allowed yourself to ask. “How was yours?”

Eddie laughed quietly as he resumed his soft stroking of your skin. “Nothing is like the movies,” he declared, pausing only when you huffed. “Not to rain on your parade or anything,” he teased. “But all of my firsts were pretty shitty. My first kiss was under the bleachers in junior high and she laughed at me after because it was just a dare. And my first time was over in, like, three seconds. I was high and horny and came the second she let me inside. I’m just glad she never told anyone. But shit happens, sweetheart. It gets better, easier. Just find someone you trust.”

Without thinking, you said, “I trust you.” For a split second, it felt as if the world stopped spinning. You willed a hole to open in the floor and swallow you whole as you immediately lifted your hand to cover your mouth. “I don’t… I don’t know why I just said that. Fuck, I’m sorry, Eddie. I-“

Instead of allowing you to pull away, to put a considerable amount of space between you both, Eddie held you tight to his chest as he tipped your head once more. “It’s okay,” he assured you, dipping his head to meet your eyes. There was no hint of anger - no disgust or annoyance, no amusement; none of the negativity you imagined you’d see - and you swallowed your rising panic as he urged, “Calm down, sweetheart. Take a breath.”

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” you repeated.

“For what?” Eddie’s question was honest, uncertain as to why you were apologizing, and you could only shrug as you withered beneath the weight of his gaze.

“I don’t know. I just… felt like I needed to?”

A beat of silence passed as Eddie studied your face. You weren’t quite sure what he was looking for but he seemed to find it as his thumb brushed your cheekbone.

“Complete honesty, alright?” It was a request Eddie made rarely as he always trusted you to be honest. It was only made in moments like this - moments of unrivaled vulnerability, moments that saw you both struggling to speak normally - and you granted it readily.

“Alright.”

“Is this… Do you want me to be your first?” The question was blunt - maybe more so than Eddie intended - but you appreciated his directness even as you inhaled sharply.

“I think so,” you admitted, unable to shift your gaze even as his warm brown eyes set your skin alight. “I mean, I trust you, more than anyone else. You’re… You’re Eddie,” you pointed out, smiling softly. “You’re my best friend. I don’t think there’s anyone better.”

“This isn’t something you have to do, sweetheart. You don’t have to lose it right now,” he reminded you, soft but certain. “There’s no shame in being a virgin. Whoever you end up choosing, if they’re the right person, they won’t mind. I know you trust me but you don’t have to choose me just because you want to get it over with.”

“That’s not why I’m choosing you.” Eddie tipped his head, an uncertainty few others were allowed to see flickering across his face as he awaited your elaboration. “I know that this will change everything,” you admitted, voice a whisper behind the rain.

“It doesn’t have to,” Eddie interjected, voice as quiet as you’d ever heard it. “Whatever happens, or doesn’t, is entirely up to you.”

“But I want it to!” He blinked, surprised by the conviction in your voice, but kept quiet as you continued. “The reason I’ve had so much trouble finding someone else, someone I want, is because I want you. I have for a long time.”

Though you’d known how you felt about Eddie for a long while - swallowed it down, hid it for fear of ruining the best friendship you’d ever had - admitting the words aloud felt final. It felt heavy, sinking to the pit of your stomach like a stone, but you knew that the only way out was through.

There were only two options. The first, Eddie would reject you - never harshly, soft and sweet in the way he seemed to only be with you - seemed most likely to you. But the second, that was the option you wished for.

Eddie returning your feelings, wanting you just as you wanted him, seemed plausible some days. When he held your hand in crowds, when he lounged in his bed and spent hours discussing books and movies and music with you, when he threw an arm around your shoulders and grinned brighter than the sun every time you made it to one of his shows; you saw a future in which he loved you, too.

But insecurity, irrational and loud, told you that you were imagining the softness of his touch or the gentle tone of his voice. It made you uneasy, kept you from admitting your feelings for fear of the worst, and you nearly wished you’d allowed the insecurity to win as silence stretched around you.

Until Eddie spoke and destroyed any remaining shred of insecurity.

“I’ve been in love with you for a while, sweetheart.”

Soft fingers brushed across your cheek, tracing the slope lightly as Eddie watched you blink owlishly. There was a moment of stunned silence, a beat in which you wondered if your dalliances with the supernatural had damaged your hearing more significantly than you’d realized, before you inhaled deeply.

“Are you… are you sure?”

The soft smile on Eddie’s face was reassuring. “Very sure. Remember when we first met?” A spark of memory - a flash of the past, the moment you nearly bowled him over on your way to find Steve before facing yet another supernatural threat - as your brows furrowed. “I started going to history after that, just ‘cause I knew you were in that class.”

“That’s been a while.” It hadn’t, not really - not in the grand scheme of the misery of Hawkins - but it felt like forever as Eddie shrugged.

“Time flies,” he declared with a half-shrug. The soft brush of Eddie’s fingers across your rapidly heating skin continued, easily mapping the features you occasionally caught him studying with an intensity you now recognized as love, and he smiled as you inhaled a shaking breath.

“I don’t know if I remember a time before falling in love with you.”

The admission was quiet, a whisper in the still of Eddie’s room, but it felt as if you’d shouted it. Vulnerability was not new, not with Eddie, though baring your soul so completely was terrifying. He accepted it easily, however, and smiled as he cradled your jaw.

“You don’t have to butter me up, sweetheart,” he teased - an effort to lighten the mood, not downplay your emotions, and ease the deafening thundering of your heart. “I’m already yours.”

With that, he leaned in and bumped your nose with his own. He waited, giving you the final choice - whether you truly wanted to take that step or not - and allowed you to make the first move.

Though you knew Eddie would never make fun of you - not for something serious, something that meant so much to you, anyway - there was still a sense of hesitance as you studied him. Up close, you could see the tiny imperfections, the little lines and freckles and spots that made him, him, and you knew that this was what you wanted.

Before he could reassure you, tell you that it was fine if you weren’t sure, if you needed more time, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

The kiss itself was not perfect. It was not something out of a film, with fireworks and an immediate, instinctual understanding of what to do. It was clumsy, a little tentative, and curious, but it was good. The warmth of Eddie’s palm bleeding into your skin, the brush of his curls as his bangs tickled your forehead, the soft exhale he released as you pressed closer, just a touch relieved you felt comfortable enough to trust him with this; all elements you would’ve never considered important before the moment at hand.

But all too soon, it was over.

In what felt like the blink of an eye, Eddie broke the embrace, pulled away just enough to allow you to draw in a deep breath, and smiled. “You gotta breathe, sweetheart,” he teased, thumb brushing your cheekbone as he took in the sight of you - glazed eyes, parted lips. “Don’t want you passing out on me.”

With anyone else, it would’ve felt like a slight - a jab, rude and mean-spirited - but you knew Eddie. You knew that it was light, fond, and rolled your eyes in response. “Breathe, got it,” you nodded, serious in your study. “Any other notes?”

“Nah. For a first kiss, it wasn’t too bad,” he hummed, after pausing a moment in faux thought. There was a dramatic air of seriousness, though you could tell he was still teasing. “Technique could use a little work, though.”

There was a twinkle in his eyes, a glittering mirth that told you he wasn’t poking fun at you - not really, not maliciously - and you couldn’t help but smile as you nodded. “I suppose someone will have to teach me,” you reasoned, fingers twisting in his curls when he hummed as if it was the most rational thought. “I learn through experience.”

That grin returned, bright - pleased that you seemed to have relaxed; and, truly, you had, as there was nothing to fear in Eddie’s embrace. He’d proven that time and time again. “Lucky for you,” he hummed, tipping his head to brush your lips with his own, “I’m an excellent teacher. Very committed. Willing to spend all night here, if that’s what it takes.”

Then, his lips were on yours once again.

This kiss was more certain, a little more eager, as Eddie took the reins and guided you. He used the hand cradling your jaw to tip your head, to turn it just the way he wanted, and hummed encouragingly as you melted into him. It was still a little clumsy, still exploratory in a way you’d never experienced, but to you, it was perfect.

And as Eddie’s free hand began to drift down your shoulder, careful not to move too fast, you broke from him just long enough to speak.

“It’s okay,” you promised him, breathless - chest heaving, lips parted, eyes half-lidded. “You can touch me. I want you to.”

With that, you returned your mouth to his.

Every press of Eddie’s mouth to yours, every swipe of his fingers over your heated skin, should’ve made you more nervous. This was farther than you’d ever gone, a complete deviation from the norm in which you were overlooked - only heard about experiences such as this from friends - and you worried there would be an overwhelming anxiety in the pit of your stomach as you attempted to gain some of that experience.

However, as Eddie’s hands began to wander and his tongue traced the seam of your lips, you found that it was the exact opposite.

Eddie made you comfortable, set you completely at ease.

The idea that this would be the culmination of every experience you’d dreamt of having didn’t make you nervous. The rapid thundering of your heart was not from fear but an excitement, a gratitude that your firsts were being taken by someone you’d loved for so long.

There was an eagerness, not to get it over with but to experience it - to understand you’d been missing. And Eddie seemed to realize that as his hands began to dip beneath the hem of your shirt.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he urged, pulling away just enough to meet your eyes - grinning when you blinked slowly, attempting to regain your sense of reality. “How’d you imagine your first time? Bet it was romantic, maybe some candles or something. Not here, with Metallica playing in the background.”

“Sometimes,” you admitted, fingers playing with the strands fallen from his low bun. “But other times it was quick, in someone’s backseat with the radio playing, just to get it over with, I think. But, lately…” Eddie hummed, urging you to continue, as his hands drifted higher - fingers brushing the underside of your breasts, dragging back down your stomach and stealing your focus. “Lately, it’s been you and it’s been here and Metallica’s been playing in the background. You’re in my head but you’re prettier in real life.”

“Flattery, sweetheart,” he teased, grin bright as he tipped his head to nose at your jaw, though you could see the emotion glittering in his eyes. “You know, I’ve thought about this,” he admitted, hands lifting higher - cupping your breasts, earning a gasp from you at the warmth of his palms against your skin. “‘Bout you, here. What you’d look like, what you’d sound like,” he hummed, appreciative when you sighed contentedly as he began to knead the soft flesh. “Think I like the real thing more.”

From your position on his lap, you could feel him growing harder, pressed to your thigh as you shifted. He hid it well, his own desire, but you heard the sharp inhale he released as you reached for the scrunchie holding his hair back and brushed the tent in his shorts.

“Can I take this off?” The question was breathed against your skin, nearly lost to the heavy thud of your heart, but you managed to nod as Eddie’s hands fell to the hem of your top.

Eddie had seen you in a bathing suit before, had seen you in just a bra after a torrential downpour left you both soaked and shivering, but this was different. Soon, he would see you completely and though you felt a bit of nerves, you knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t judge. So, you shifted and worked to get rid of the soft fabric.

When your shirt joined a handful of others on his floor, he made no effort to ogle you - though you imagined that would come later, when he knew you were well and truly relaxed. Instead, he returned his mouth to yours and his hands to cup your breasts.

With you sufficiently distracted, Eddie easily maneuvered the pair of you so that you were on your back, lying pliant beneath him. When you hummed, laughed slightly at the bounce as you both settled into the mattress, he broke the kiss and pressed his mouth to your rapidly overheating skin. He started at the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, before beginning to trail a path down your throat.

“If you change your mind,” he hummed, voice muffled against your skin, “just tell me. Tell me everything, okay? Don’t worry about being too loud. No such thing.”

“Not gonna change my mind,” you assured him, voice pitching higher as his teeth scraped over the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. “Want this, want you.”

At that, Eddie continued his descent. His lips left a trail of fire in their wake and you gave in to his urging to not worry about your volume. With each brush of his mouth, each tickle of his hair against your skin, you made no effort to hide the soft noises of pleasure. And with each one, Eddie seemed to grow more and more eager.

Those wide eyes lifted to meet yours as he reached your chest, one hand kneading soft flesh as he nipped at the sensitive skin of the opposite breast. He sucked a bruise into the skin, shooting you a wink as he did so, before dipping lower and capturing your nipple between his lips. And when you gasped, hands flying to his hair, he hummed in approval.

Eddie spent a few moments focusing on your breasts, moments in which you realized you couldn’t have chosen a better first partner - someone who loved you, someone who was more interested in making the moment good for you than he was in the act itself - before he began to dip lower.

“I’m totally down to eat you out,” he offered, glancing up at you with those wide eyes, “but if you’re not up for it yet, that’s okay. It’s up to you, sweetheart.”

For a moment, you considered his offer. The press of his body to yours, the weight of him atop you, the warmth of his hands and mouth; it was all overwhelming, in the most beautiful way. Still, you weren’t sure if that was something you wanted in that moment. It sounded fun, and he seemed very serious about his offer, but you weren’t sure how much you wanted so soon. So, you decided to decline his offer, for the time being.

“Next time,” you promised, fingers carding through his curls as he pressed soft kisses to your stomach. “I… Sounds nice, but feels like too much this time,” you admitted, not ashamed but almost.

Eddie, however, easily accepted your answer. “Might be,” he agreed, with an easy grin. “I’m pretty good with my mouth.” It was teasing, accompanied by another wink, and made you roll your eyes.

“You’re pretty good at never closing it,” you countered, squealing when he nipped your skin.

“We’ll revisit this conversation when you’re comfortable,” he teased, grinning as he shifted up and pressed his mouth to yours once more.

As he distracted you with a kiss - this one messier, more eager than the last - his hands continued to wander. They trailed down your stomach, traced the same path as his lips, before dipping beneath the band of your shorts. His fingers brushed the warm skin, earning a sharp gasp.

“Still okay?” The question was breathed against your lips, and you nodded.

“Yeah,” you assured him, though your heart felt as if it might beat out of your chest. “Still okay.”

Calloused fingers dipped lower, brushed over the fabric of your panties, and slipped between your spread thighs. There wasn’t a ton of room for him to move, and you realized that he was at least trying to get you used to the sensation as his fingers brushed the fabric covering your folds. If he felt the damp patch - he did, you could tell by the pleased grin he wore - he said nothing. He would tease you for it later. This time, he simply returned his mouth to yours.

Eddie gave you a few moments to adjust to his touch, his fingers brushing the fabric - teasing, soft - before he nudged the now soaked fabric aside and allowed his fingers to drag through the slick gathered there. His touch was light, not hesitant but conscious, careful, waiting in case you changed your mind.

It should’ve made you nervous, should’ve set you on edge, but there was only pleasure as you melted into his embrace and tugged at the curls framing his face as his thumb found your clit.

The touch was electric, filled your veins with a blistering warmth that seemed all encompassing, and you began to understand why your friends made such a big deal of it all. The touch itself was good, better than your own fingers, but knowing that it was Eddie, with his wide eyes and pretty smile, made it that much better.

Every press of his fingers grew more experimental, dragging through your folds and coating his fingers in slick. He teased, brushed lightly and swallowed every sigh and soft moan you released. And after a few long, torturous moments, he finally pressed a finger to your entrance and pulled away just enough to catch sight of your face.

“I’m okay,” you promised him, before he could ask. He hummed, acknowledging, and slowly began to pump his finger, getting you used to the motion. “I kinda get it,” you hummed, gasping as his thumb brushed your clit.

“Mm, get what?”

Eddie pressed a second finger in, then, and his fingers were larger than yours. It was a bit of a stretch, a little more than you were used to, but it was nice and you told him as much as you leaned in to nip his jaw. “Why people like this, why my friends talk about it all the time.”

A quiet laugh filled your ears as he began to work you open, careful to prepare you. “Good. Glad this hasn’t put you totally off sex forever,” he teased, before he brushed his thumb over your clit and earned himself another moan. “Glad you’re not totally questioning why the fuck you thought trusting me with this was a good idea,” he laughed.

“I trust you with everything,” you promised, gasping as he began to work his fingers a touch faster and pressed a spot that made your head spin. “Oh, fuck.”

“There?” Eddie grinned, pleased to have found that spot, and made certain to pay special attention to it as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. “C’mon,” he urged, “make some noise for me, sweetheart.”

With Eddie’s encouragement, and with the quickening press of his fingers into you, you found it easier and easier to make the noise he was hoping to hear. Though his space was limited, he made the most of it. He paid close attention to what made you gasp, what made you sigh, what made you moan. And with each swipe of his fingers, with every brush of his thumb over your clit, you felt yourself falling deeper and deeper into him as the fire burning in your veins threatened to consume you entirely.

Though your friends warned you that much of it was over quick, you hadn’t quite anticipated just how fast Edie would be able to push you over the edge. But after only a few moments of his eager ministrations, the press of his fingers and his thumb and the brush of his mouth over your heated skin, you found yourself falling over the edge with a cry of his name.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, voice tight as he lifted his head to watch you - the part of your lips, the flutter of your lashes, the heave of your chest. “Look pretty, coming for me. Wanna make you do it again.”

The gravel in his voice, a rasp you’d never heard, made your head spin and your chest ache in a pleasant way as his fingers continued pressing, pushing you through the aftershocks. All that existed in your mind was him; Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Despite the difficulty you felt in catching your breath, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was pulling him close and pressing your mouth to his.

Eddie easily gave in, allowed you to take your fill of him, and only removed his hand from between your thighs when you grasped his forearm. However, he didn’t pull away entirely. He simply slipped his fingers beneath the band on either side and began to nudge the fabric down.

Without breaking the kiss, you shimmied out of the fabric - no longer caring about being entirely exposed, only caring about having him closer. In the midst of the kiss, Eddie shifted, arm reaching out blindly and swiping at his nightstand. He caught a few stray items, knocked them from the table with a clatter, and you laughed as you broke the kiss.

“What’re you looking for, Eds?”

With a bit of space between you, he eagerly pulled away just enough to tug his own shirt off - up, over his head, joining the fabric on the floor - before shoving his shorts down his thighs. He wasn’t wearing any boxers and you felt hesitant to glance down, despite the permission he gave you. No matter how comfortable he made you, some things still felt like too much for the first time, especially when you’d been half-certain you would lose your virginity in some dark room and now you could see Eddie all too well.

“Condom,” he answered, grinning when you flustered. “Don’t suppose you have one in your bag, sweetheart?”

“Can’t say I do. Wasn’t exactly expecting… this.” In fact, it was the last thing you’d been expecting from your visit to Eddie’s. However, you weren’t going to complain.

“Good unexpected?” He turned his full attention to the nightstand, then, shuffling through drawers and you laughed as you hummed your agreement.

“Totally.”

A metallic jingle caught your attention and as Eddie shuffled through the items in the nightstand in search of a condom, you searched for the source of the sound. A pair of silver hoops, hanging on a hook near the bed, caught your eye and you inhaled a shaking breath.

“…are those handcuffs?”

Eddie laughed, the noise quickly covered with a triumphant hum as he found the foil packet, before his full attention returned to you. There was an easy amusement in his eyes, warm and bright, as he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips. “Don’t worry about those right now, sweetheart,” he urged. “Eyes on me, yeah?"

“Can I worry about them later?” The question was teasing, tinged with only a touch of nerves as Eddie settled between your spread thighs and allowed one large hand to softly grip the plush flesh.

“Haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re already thinking about next time,” he teased with a grin. “I’m creating a monster.”

“Your monster.”

That brilliant smile remained, bright and wide, as he leaned in to press his lips to yours. “My monster,” he agreed, words mumbled against your lips. He kissed you, stealing the breath from your lungs and leaving you boneless beneath him, before he breathed a gentle reminder. Those soft eyes met yours as he said, “We don’t have to do this. If you’ve changed your mind, if you wanna wait, that’s okay.”

“I want this. No one I’d rather do this with.”

Eddie shifted closer, then, rested more of his weight atop you and shifted so that the tip of his cock bumped your aching clit. When you inhaled sharply, fingers pressing harshly into his shoulders, Eddie shifted his hips and notched the head of his cock at your entrance. And with a final nod of your head, he pressed forward.

The immediate experience was almost expected - your friends told you that it would hurt, that the first time wasn’t much fun. Only, it wasn’t so much pain as it was discomfort. There was no blinding pain, no tears, just an odd sensation that made you squirm. There was a sharp pinch, a sensation you’d never felt before, but it was bearable.

And you told Eddie as much when he lifted a hand to your cheek and asked, “How you doin’, sweetheart?”

“Fine,” you assured him, still a touch breathless as he pressed closer. “Doesn’t feel good yet but it doesn’t hurt.”

Eddie leaned in, pressed a kiss to your cheek - to your nose, to your jaw, to your forehead - before pressing a kiss to your lips. “Sorry,” he said, though he didn’t sound very sorry at all. “It’ll feel good in a minute, when you get used to it.”

As difficult as it seemed, you believed him. You knew that he was right, and that he would do his best to make sure you were comfortable, so you simply tangled your fingers in his hair and buried your face in the crook of his neck to leave soft, open-mouthed kisses against the heated skin.

After a moment, Eddie was fully sheathed inside, body pressed to yours as he waited for you to give him the okay to move. As you adjusted, the kiss grew more heated and his hands wandered, returning to your core as his thumb found your aching clit.

When you jolted, clenched around him, Eddie broke the kiss. “Fuck me,” he laughed, tipping his head to bury his face in the crook of your neck. “Promise I’m not always ready to blow this quick. You’re just so fucking tight.”

“Flattery,” you teased, breathless as you tugged playfully at his hair. “’S’okay. You can move.”

With your permission, Eddie began to experimentally shift his hips. He moved slowly at first, pulling out only an inch or two, before he began to move in earnest.

The pace was slow, easy, but with every shift of his hips, the better it got. The discomfort began to fade, giving way to a fullness that was more pleasant than you expected. And with his thumb brushing your clit, gathering the slick, you felt yourself enjoying it more and more.

“You know,” he hummed, lips brushing your skin as he continued shifting his hips almost experimentally, “it’s kinda hot, how much you trust me. ’S’like you’re in love with me or something.”

“Unfortunately, I am.” It was so soft, so fond, that Eddie couldn’t seem to find a teasing reply. The words were accompanied by a sticky warmth in your chest, so glad to have your feelings out in the open and returned.

The way Eddie treated you made the warmth that much more pleasant. He made your enjoyment a priority, eyes on your face as he watched for any signs of discomfort. Even as his pace grew faster, hips snapping into yours - driving deeper, pulling out farther - now that you’d adjusted, he still kept his full attention on you.

And when you felt yourself beginning to fall over the edge for the second time, he hummed in encouragement. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he breathed, only just beginning to show how affected he was, voice wavering and breath a little labored. “Come for me. Sound so pretty when you do.”

After a few more snaps of his hips, you fell over the edge and Eddie was quick to follow with a low curse.

The high was unlike any you’d ever felt. It flooded your veins with fire, scorched you from within, and you swore you saw stars as you rode out your high. Eddie buried his face in the crook of your neck to catch his breath and, after a moment of desperately attempting to catch your own, you carded your fingers through his disheveled curls. He remained atop you - weight not quite fully pressed into you but enough for you to feel - for a few long moments before pulling out and tying off the condom. He stood, disappeared into the bathroom to toss it into the trash, before he returned and fell back into bed beside you.

“So,” he hummed, bouncing onto the mattress with a laugh and tugging you into his side. “First time. Not some frat guy in the backseat of some fancy car, or in some shitty dorm room but, not bad?”

“No,” you agreed, tipping your head to press a kiss to his collarbone. “Not bad. Not some frat guy but I think this was better.”

“You think?” Eddie scoffed with faux outrage. “Okay, well, clearly we’re gonna have to do this again and again and again until you know that this was better.”

Though the night began with an insecurity, in that wonderful way of his, Eddie managed to turn it into a beautiful moment. And though you were starting college in the fall, you knew that you wouldn’t be starting a virgin or searching for some frat boy to help you gain the experiences your friends so often spoke of. You would be starting college with a boyfriend and the knowledge that your love was requited. And you loved the idea that Eddie would be with you for every next step.

After all, what are boyfriends for?

__________________________________________________________

Author's Note: Slowly but surely going through the WIPs I have had for months. :)

#stranger things smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #v's fics

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c0llisiion · 2 months

Text

ATTENTION — K.TH

★Pairing: kim Taehyung + f!reader

★Genre: smut

★: exes , kinda toxic ig , bigdickdom!tae , choking, slight exhibitionism , reader is lowkey bipolar , angry sex/make up sex (they just went through a breakup) , mirror sex , oral, slapping, creampie , unprotected sex (please practice safe sex!) name calling, degradation, kth is kinda mean — lmk if i missed any! ^^

★W/C: 2,435

A/N: HIIIIIIII!!!!!! so yes another kth fic :’) its been a while so that’s justified! This is actually one of my first fics i ever wrote nd i found it rotting in my notes so i decided to tweak it up and post :3 (the og was shit.) will finally be able to post more often <3 anyways enjoy! Hope you like itttt

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ MDNI. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Loud music was blasting throughout the crowded club. It was a huge party, hosted by one of your closest friend. There were people dancing, drinking, and giving men lap dances. It was a wild one!

You were dancing hard with your girlfriends. Those few shots you took finally hit you.

You were approached by your friend, while having the time of your life "Hey, bae, there is someone you might like to see.." You stopped and focused on what she was saying "Who?" You inquired. She pointed out a man sitting in one of the booths. He was talking to another familiar man and didn't seem to notice you. You stood there, staring at the man in a suit with a few of his buttons undone. You were, honestly, in disbelief. This day is truly one for the history books.

"Taehyung..." You stood there wide-eyed. "Hell yeah, girly, I invited him for you and you only," she said with a smug smirk. "Go on, bae, get your tiger!" She nudged. "I-i-" you stammered. "come onnn ,, stop being a fucking pussy and go talk to him!!" She started shoving you in his direction. You stayed put, not letting her push you more. "Dude, for god's sake! It's going to be so awkward!" You turned around to face your clearly drunk friend. "Bitch, you were the one that was venting to me about how you wanted to see him almost every day since you broke up!" She countered. What she said was right. You were venting to her every day, nonstop, from the day you broke it off with him. "I-I had confidence that time..! But I don't think i will be able to show that same confidence .." Your friend narrowed her eyes at you. "PUSSY!" She shouted in your face. You both giggled it off before she spoke up. "Well if you are not comfortable yet, then it's fine. I heard that he already has a new girlfrien-" "what?" Your ears perked up. "Wdym what? Did you not hear? Apparently he is fucking that hot chick , aeri from back then; she had approached him two days after you broke up, and they have been dating ever since." You look back at the man clad in a blue suit with a white button up underneath before letting out an angry scoff, "What a bastard..."

"Its time to get that bastard back into your life," your friend winked at you.

"Heeeyyyy, Taehyung! How is the party going for you?" Your friend approached him, stumbling slightly. "It's going well! I'm having so much fun!" Taehyung said it with excitement. "Ouu, I'm glad to hear! Ykw, do you want to join us on the dance floor?" Your friend batted her eyelashes at him, baiting him into joining her. "haha imma pass!" " Cooommeee oooonnnn, it’s going to be fun, Taehyung" she begged for him to join her, and he eventually did after much persuasion. He joined the dance floor and was quickly hoarded by hot girls who definitely wanted to get laid by him. After a moment, his eyes landed on someone he knew. It was you. You were with another man, kissing, hands around his neck, and swaying your hips in a very sultry way. You broke off the kiss and glanced to your side. He was standing there. A woman was holding his face in her hands, trying to get him out of his trance. You could feel the rage that was radiating off of him. You smirked and dragged your mister to the bar. You let him buy you a few drinks before eventually letting him go.

You were drinking your third shot of tequila when he approached you. "It's funny to see you here." You turned around to see the tall figure of Taehyung looking down at you. You almost choked on the alcohol. "It's my best friend's birthday; of course I will be here, dumbass!" You tapped the glass on the counter, signaling for the bartender to pour you another. Taehyung walked over to the empty seat next to you. "So what's up?" You inquired while waiting. "Oh, nothing much; Daddy has been pressuring me to start staying stable." You snorted. " 'daddy' PFFFTTT" . Taehyung looked at you blankly. The bartender poured you a glass, and before you could down it all, Taehyung snatched the shot glass, drinking every last bit, and placed it on the counter. "Yeah 'daddy'” "Omg, you are literally so insufferable." You said it dramatically. "Idek how that aeri bitch is even with you," Taehyung shot up. "What aeri?" He said plainly like he had no idea what you were talking about. You looked at him in shock. "You are dating aeri right?" You asked for reassurance. He scoffed it off. " pff- you really think i would date a hoe like aeri? Never in a million years." He rolled his eyes and chuckled. " B-but .. f/n said you guys are fucking around..??" "That is true, though," your face drowned. "Like, we only hooked up once, and you know what? She is not the person she says she is. One of the worst fuckings I have ever done," you giggled. "Who was your best?" You asked him randomly. "You." Your cheeks turned pink almost immediately. You could feel him looking at you. Eyeing your entire body. "You look good today," he complimented you. "Don't I always look good?" You joked. He chuckled, looking down. You both were staring at each other with love and lust. "I miss you" had accidentally slipped your mouth. Curse you for drinking too much! You quickly covered your mouth in disbelief at what just came out. "What?" He looked at you. "Ah ah nothing, nevermind!!" You brushed it off as quickly as you could. He looked at you with his eyebrow quirked up. "Aha i think i gotta go... f/n is calling me haha". There was a slight stutter in your speech. You got up, and before you could leave the bar, he grabbed you by your wrist, turned you around, and kissed you. You were shocked. Your hands were on his chest while he kissed you with passion. "I missed you too, baby.." The bomb dropped. Your mind went blank. "But tae.." "Please, baby, take me back. I promise to change this time. I just really need you. I don't want anyone else." You looked at him with guilt. But this was the same statement he would always give. 'i will change’ 'I will do better' 'take me back'. You were unsure of what to feel. All these months, you missed him, and now?

"Tae you know we can't. You always say this but you never change. Just cut the act off." He let go of your waist. "I miss you, baby. I really do. And im sorry for all-" "shush. I don't want to hear another apology. You are never sorry." As much as you love and miss Taehyung. His personality is the biggest turn off. He had broken your trust multiple times, and whenever you would break up, he would come up with the same shit, and you were there to accept his lame apologies. But not this time. You took some time to think about it, and you came to the conclusion that it was best for you not to take him back.

"Have a goodnight." You said it sternly before turning away. "You are really going to leave me, huh?" Taehyung started following you. "I left you months ago, Taehyung." His gaze went from soft to the familiar, mean one. "You said you missed me!" He pulled you by your arm, turning you back around to face him. "It's for the better! For both of us! You know we are never going to work out!" You countered. "Oh yeah, for the 'better' , I know you will come right back to me. Quit acting, y/n. As soon as my dick enters your desperate cunt, you will be with me once again like the slut you are." His hands went around your waist once again. Mere inches separate you both. Whatever he said was true. You break up. Meet up a few weeks or days later. Fuck, and then back together. The same cycle over and over again. You couldn't get enough of him. “Let’s not play fool again.” He said in a manipulative tone. You were resisting his manipulation, but you gave in. Your lips smashed into his aggressively. He chuckled at your instinct. "Yeah, that's what I fucking thought." He said it in between the kiss.

He rushed you into the club washroom and locked the door. There was absolute rage radiating off of you guys. Kissing harshly and not letting each other go. He made you sit on the counter and grabbed you by your jaw, breaking the intense kiss. Your lips were already swollen. "How many dicks have been in this cunt?" He said,tauntingly. You looked at him with your drunken eyes. "I will make sure no one gets this. It's mine. Got it?" You nodded. He let go of your jaw and dropped to his knees. He spread your legs open and started touching your wet pussy. His fingers circled your clothed entrance. A sticky mixture of your arousal coated his fingertips. "Always wet for me. Goodgirl." he grabbed you by your waist before smashing his face into your heat and started eating you out with your lace panties on. The pleasure was too much. You threw your head back and let out a pornographic moan. He was so good at eating you out to the point that it's enough to come undone.

You tugged on his black locks. Eyes swelling up with tears and drool already dripping down from the sides of your mouth. He was lapping at your cunt like a starved man. “So good.. so fucking good…” he nudged his face closer into your sex. Breathing in your arousal. Your thighs clamped around his head, and let out a choked-out moan as he bit down on your poor clit. “T-tae..! ‘S too much!!” Taehyung found pleasure in your pleas and cries. He pulled away and stared up at you. His chin glistened with his spit and your juices, running down his neck.

He got up and was quick to capture your lips in his mouth. His tongue swirled around the inside of your mouth, and you could taste yourself. Large hands pushed your dress further up your body; a loud snap was heard as he ripped your thin panties. You grab onto his shoulders as you feel his long, cold fingers rubbing your throbbing clit. You gasped for air as he flicked your nub. Your hands roamed all over his body, helping him take off his Celine suit jacket. Your hands went lower before you stopped at his belt buckle. “Put it in already… please … “ you mumbled into the kiss. Taehyung let out a dark chuckle; his lips traveled down your neck. You felt something prod into your sopping hole. His large tip slipped through your folds easily. You gasp as he pushes himself further into you. His hands tightly held onto your hips as he eased his way into your gummy walls. He hunched over after he fully pushed himself into you. Your cunny clenched around his big length as he started thrusting. Heavy breaths getting louder with each increase in pace. “Gon’ fuck you so good..the entire club will hear us.”

-fwap! Fwap! fwap!- loud sounds of your ass slapping against his hips echoed through the restroom. Taehyung had you facing the mirror. A hand wrapped tightly around your hair, pulling your head back. “See how well you take my cock..! Haah- so fucking good. Pussy sucking me in so good.” He whispered in your ear before biting it. “Ngh- fuck Taehyung feels so g-good…!” You held onto the edge of the counter for dear life as Taehyung pounded into you from behind. Your makeup ran down your face as his thrusts had you tearing up and seeing stars. “Mmm.. haa-“ slap. “Keep your eyes on the mirror while I fuck you. Understand?” You nodded at his words. Your eyes were struggling to stay open, and your head felt heavy. “Words, doll.” He grabbed your jaws and brought his face closer to yours, making you look at him as he continued giving you harsh thrusts. Your body jerking forward at each. The hand on your clit pinching the sensitive nub “ngh- fuck! I u-understand…” a devilish smirk formed on his perfect face. He was fucking you into tomorrow. His long, thick dick abused your soft plush walls over and over again. Red angry tip bruising your cervix. Your cream coated his entire length, and your arousal ran down his balls and your thighs. “Gonna c-cum.. tae- gon’-“ His fingers worked on your clit quickly. Tugging, pinching, and drawing rough circles all to help you reach your high. “Cum all over me.. doll.” And with that, you gushed around his length. “Fuck!!” Spurts of your cum spilled from the sides of your abused hole. Taehyung continued fucking you through your orgasm. “Do you want my cum inside you- haaah… fuck doll squeezing me so good..!” He got cut off as you spasmed around him. You nod weakly at his words. Picking your head up to look at him through the mirror, He brought his face closer to your ears. “Say it. Say you want my cum in you.” He growled in your ears. Your eyes filled up with tears. “I wan’ it…” “Want what? I want to hear you say it.” You bite down on your lip as you feel his fingers draw rough circles on your overstimulated clit again. “ i wan’ -ngh- i want your cum.. Taehyung. i wan’ your cum in me… please.” Your voice was feeble. Taehyung groaned in satisfaction. “Goodgirl. I like it when you beg.” His hips quickly gained their pace and had you once again feeling full. You let out a choked out scream as you felt Taehyung fill you up. Taehyung moaned loudly as his balls drained all the cum into your plush walls. He dropped his head in between your neck and shoulders as he slowly came down from his high. Leaving soft, wet kisses on the spot.

He lifted his head up and looked at you before smiling. His hands caressed your red ass. He pulled out, and a stream of yours and his mixed arousal dripped down your thighs. “You're gonna stay with me forever.”

A/N: thank you for reading! I will be writing inboxes so make sure to send in :3 🎀

#౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ yun’s silly fics #bts #bts smut #taehyung smut #bts reactions #bts x reader #bts army #bts fanfic #bts headcanons #bts scenarios #taehyung headcanons #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung x oc #taehyung scenarios #bts taehyung #taehyung #bts v #v smut

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