#I need someone to glance over this excel sheet | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

predestinatos · 25 days ago

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forgive me, i've got an appetite — CL16 (18+) ⋆｡ﾟ ⋆

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: reading week brings you and your academic rival closer than ever.

warnings & tags: MINORS DNI!!! smut, academic rivals to lovers, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, (a lot) of dirty (FILTHY..) talk, somewhat public sex (bathroom at a party), charles very dominant and hates losing, reader very sub and loves winning (it might change in later chapters!!), degrading, creampie, spit play.

note: i didn't proofread this and it's been a while since i wrote so i'm a bit dusty!!! please be patient i promise i'll be better. feedback would be much appreciated since it motivates me to keep writing.

Your heart raced inside your chest as the teacher walked across the room, paper sheets being carefully placed in front of each student, their faces of disappointment, relief, sadness and confusion arriving shortly after.

Your leg bounced up and down as the teacher got closer to you, a hint of a smile on his face, an indication that yes, it probably was good, but was it good enough?

You looked at the red ink on the sheet of paper he put in front of you, a “good work” escaping his lips. 98/100. Fuck.

It was good. More than good, even. But it didn’t quite matter, not yet, because there was a 2% chance the boy across the room had a better grade than you, and those odds terrified you. You looked at the teacher, who now walked towards him, same pride in his face, same silent comment you couldn’t hear but could guess, something along the lines of “excellent, Leclerc.”

You looked at him, his reaction. He smiled a smug smile, but not as confident as it had been on other times. At this point, you were sure you could know his results just by the facial expression he made as he grabbed the white paper, messily scribbled, so unlike your own clean paper. Lip bite and slow blink, 100/100. Smirk and immediate search through the paper for his one mistake, 99/100. A glance towards you and a nod that asked for your result, 98/100. Probably the most dreadful result to get. Smug smile with a half shrug, 97/100.

You won.

“Seven,” he mouthed from across the room, a small drop of hope his in eyes. You smiled, mouthing “eight” back, watching his reaction, waiting to complete the ritual you now shared. “Fuck you” he mouthed again, jokingly, as he placed his test in his bag and prepared to leave, the whole room filled with students hurrying to their next class.

You climbed up the auditorium stairs, leading up to the same door where you’d meet him. “Let me guess,” you started, barely looking his way as you walked alongside him, ready for the next class. “Theory fucked you over?”

“Don’t even mention it” he replied, before hurrying along to his dorm, a ‘later’ barely leaving his lips before he was out of sight. You moved along to your friends’ own room, where you had already left everything you needed for the night ahead.

“To a good reading week” you and your friends cheered, small shot glasses clinking against each other, part of the content inside them spilling before you downed the drink. It burned your throat, and you usually didn’t drink. In fact, this was the only one you were going to have for the rest of the evening, a celebratory act, a token of a good friendship and good grades.

The house was packed, and you weren’t sure whom exactly it belonged to, only that everyone in it was celebrating the same event, taking a collective breath of relief.

Between the talking, eating and drinking, a few hours had passed, the mood turning more carefree and light as people got tipsier and looser. You moved between the dancing bodies, the tight space feeling less claustrophobic and more comfortable now, finding a way to climb up the house’s stairs to the bathroom.

As you approach to open the door, someone else does it from the inside. His tall, broad figure almost crashes against yours, and the smell of weed hit you before you saw who it was. You looked up, about to complain, and your eyes met Charles’ now slightly red ones, the green in them fading behind his almost closed eyelids.

“Whoops” he said, his voice amused, happy, not the usual tense and focused one.

“Are you high?” you asked, the question leaving your lips with a smile, barely processing whatever dynamic you had going on.

“Mmmmmaybe” Charles said, jokingly dragging the word, exaggerating his ways but also proving the effect the drug had on him as he laughed at his own joke.

You patted him jokingly on the shoulder as a way to ask for him to move from the bathroom and let you in, but to your surprise, he remained still. “Charles?” you asked, as his eyes remained on you, an unreadable expression behind them.

“You should try it” he said suddenly, crossing his arms in front of his chest, shoulder against the doorframe.

“What?” you laughed, incredulous, barely registering what he had said. To your question, he merely pulled you inside the bathroom and shut the door, moving away from it in an attempt to let you escape, should you desire it.

“You should try some. I have an extra one.” he repeated, hand flying to the pocket of his jeans, removing a carefully prepared joint.

“Why would I?” you asked, now your turn to cross your arms across your chest, a mix of amusement and annoyance blending together.

“Because it’ll help you relax. It always helps me after exam season” Charles shrugged, a sheepish, lazy smile stuck to his lips.

“You do it after every exam season?” you eyes widened, and your own surprise annoyed you. You didn’t expect Charles to be the type to do something like that, though the reason why was unknown to you. You never saw him at hang outs or parties, at least the few ones you went to. It was implied, for you, that he simply was not interested.

He chuckled at your words, moving closer towards you as you spoke. “How do you think I survive the most stressful month of my fucking life?”

“And yet you still lost to me” you joked, analyzing how his t-shirt clung to his body tightly, how his rigid and strict rules for himself are visible in results, even when he tries to sedate them.

“Want a reward?” Charles’ voice was humorous but his eyes wee anything but. For the first time you met him, there was a hint of sincerity, an innuendo, a hint at something else that you could see. It was different, the way his head cocked to the side and his eyebrows rose, tongue playing with the inside of his cheek.

“What do you mean?” you asked back, voice almost a whisper, embarrassment over your loss of words causing your cheeks to go red. It was so sudden, this shift in energy. You could almost feel the sound of the music outside dimming, becoming softer in your ears as everything in the big bathroom became heightened. Every sound, every step.

Charles leaned back against the door and fiddled with the key placed there in order to lock it. He looked at you, looking for a hint of fear or regret, something that said you didn’t want to be there. You stared back, defiance in your eyes as you swallowed dryly.

“You know what I mean” his head hit the door softly as he stared at you, eyes exploring your body, your skin. You leaned against the washstand, both in search of something to hold on to and of a way to cross one leg over the other without him noticing too much. But he did.

His eyes went to your legs as you crossed them, then back to your face. He felt like a predator looking at his prey, hungry and knowing that she wanted it just as much as him. A hand rose to his face, his jaw, and he merely stared. “You deserve it, don’t you?” he continued, voice deeper, starving. “You’ve been so good. Better than me, even” Charles stepped closer and closer to you, slow steps that made your heart beat faster and deeper inside your chest.

He was now so close to you you could feel his hot breath on your skin, his hands on either side of you, gripping the marble of the sink, knuckles white due to his attempt at resisting. “You had to fucking remind me of that, didn’t you?” he whispered, one hand now raised, fingers hovering the skin in your arm like a test. “I hate losing,” a half-smile, eyes following the trail of his own finger as goosebumps spread across your skin.

Your heart was racing. The dress you were wearing now felt too tight and hot, sweat making the fabric cling to your body claustrophobically. “I love winning” you replied, snarky and disobedient, looking up at him from behind your eyelashes, a pleading expression written across your face.

“Aren’t you a little spoiled thing,” Charles replied once again, not giving away his own thoughts and emotions through words, though his body said otherwise: you felt his hardness against your stomach as he leaned closer to you, forehead touching yours. His words, his voice, his body, everything was already sending you over the edge, and you couldn’t help but let out a small whimper.

His eyebrows immediately raised at that, a feline smile spreading across his lips. He had caught you. “And needy too” his hand now touching your neck, thumb caressing your cheek as his eyes stared intently, deeply, at your lips. The intense gaze made you feel the urge to lick them, something subconscious telling you that you should. His thumb moved further ahead, reaching the corner of your lips and finally caressing them fully, roughly and softly at the same time, a juxtaposition of feelings only he could convey.

The pressure he applied suggested a silent request for you to open up - one that you complied with, desire clouding your judgement, your thoughts. You let him apply pressure on your tongue before sucking his thumb, the same pleased look in your eyes as you looked up at him. “Good girl” he muttered, eyes half closed not only by the drug in his system but by the sight of you. “Fuck you love this, don’t you?”

You could only nod in response, eyelids fluttering as you suppressed a smile, his thumb spreading saliva across your lips.

Charles was high. Not on drugs, or not only on drugs at least, but on you, on the view he had before him. He never imagined someone like you - so good, so organized, so innocent-looking, could be so alluring and intense. He felt higher than ever, his cock twitching inside his boxers and jeans, desperate to be wrapped around your cunt.

Without warning, his other hand pulled your dress up and your panties down, fingers glazing over your wetness. You were soaking. Part of you was embarrassed by how little it took for you to feel this way; empty, in need to be filled up by him, claimed; but another part was too far gone to tell. You moaned around his thumb which remained inside your mouth as he traced small, light circles around your clit.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he was as surprised by the words coming out of his mouth as you were, for he was not very vocal during sex, not like this. But he felt a strong need to be filthy, to let all of his thoughts out from his brain into yours, and test the reactions of your body as he went. “It’s this easy with you, huh? How long haven’t you been fucked properly?”

You were about to reply with “a month” but before the full word could get out, he tightened his grip on your face, pressure being applied to your cheeks as a way to call your attention to him. “I said properly.”

You didn’t know how to respond, but you didn’t have to, because before you could think of an answer, he inserted one of his fingers inside you, so slowly it almost caused you pain, your eyes watering at the need for more. “They don’t know what to do with you, do they?” Charles continued, hips grinding against nothing, a hint of his own composure disappearing. “They don’t know how to treat a pretty whore like you.” His lips were on yours now, biting them and letting his tongue swirl around yours messily and torturously.

Your fingers held on to his dark brown hair, pulling his face tightly towards you, his stubble now brushing against your neck as he sucked your skin while kissing it. “But I do. I know you just want attention. You want people to know you’re a good girl, so well behaved, so obedient” another finger slipped inside you, movements fast, the sound of your wet cunt filling the room, his hand gripping your waist tightly in an attempt to steady you. “Look at it” Charles demanded, your head lowering in order to witness the view: his arm moving rapidly and erratically, your legs spread wide for him, his veins forming an intricate pattern. “Fuck” you tried muttering, though you weren’t sure any coherent words were said.

“Yeah, what a mess” he tsked, mocking you as if he wasn’t flushed out too, as if his eyes weren’t dark and he wasn’t getting more incoherent himself. “You act all pretty but this is what you really like. Being a needy, messy, slut.” At his last word, he curled his fingers inside you as he applied pressure on your clit, a moved so sudden it made you spasm against the sink, one of your hands flying to your mouth in an attempt to shut yourself up.

But just as quickly as he did it, he removed his hand from inside you, leaving you empty and practically dripping over him. He was breathing heavily as he unbuttoned his jeans and lowered them along with his black boxers, a small precum stain already on them.

You gawked at it hungrily, parts of your hair clinging to your face, lips and cheeks wet from your own saliva, head cloudy and dizzy. Charles wrapped his hand around his erection, pumping himself a bit while looking at you. “God, you look so desperate… You want it?” at his words, your eyes met his again, pleading as you nodded, incapable of speaking. “Beg.”

His stern voice was laced with intense and violent lust, his eyes now so different from the ones you knew. He meant every letter of the word, his chest rising and falling with anticipation being proof of that.

“Please,” you started, your voice so quiet one could barely listen to it.

“Louder, baby,” his frame stood over you, ready to pounce at any minute, his tip now touching your entrance teasingly.

“Charles” was all you could say, a mix of shyness and lightheartedness fogging your brain. You bit your lip as he tsked, a small disapproval move of his head as he inserted himself fully inside you without warning.

This sent you into overdrive. His ravenous movements and heavy breath contrasted with your whimpers and inability to move properly, eyes rolled at the back of your head with arousal. You felt full of him and yet you wanted more. More of his hand on your thigh, gripping tightly, more of his other one on your neck, forcing you to look at him.

“I’m gonna fuck you stupid,” Charles said, a smile spreading across his face, enjoyment over your lack of clear thinking. “So fucking stupid you won’t know anything anymore.” Your hands held on to his back, scratching his skin in pleasure.

“And you’ll love it” he continued, knowing you were too far gone to be able to reply with anything but his name, “you’ll like that you’re becoming a dumb little whore.” The hand gripping your neck now tugged at your hair as he asked you to open your mouth.

You complied, feeling your cunt tighten around his cock and tears forming at the corners of your eyes. As you opened, he spat on your tongue, the act so filthy yet so erotic you moaned loudly, eyes wide as you swallowed.

“You love this don’t you?” his eyes stared deeply into yours with amusement and pleasure, his words combined with grunts, sweat forming on his neck. “You act all fucking pretty but you love being fucked like this,” he gripped the top of your dress and pulled it down, revealing your exposed breasts, nipples hard from exhilaration. “What’s my name?” he asked, though you knew what you’d reply either way, words failing you except for that one.

“Char-” you started, but couldn’t continue as he held one of your breasts in his hand, caressing its nipple aggressively. “Can’t even finish the fucking answer” he chuckled, getting off on taunting you.

“I’ll give you an easier one. What’s your name?” he asked again, and though you wanted to reply, you couldn’t, no words left your mouth except for one. “Charles-” you moaned, covering your mouth with your hands due to the sheer loudness of his name in your mouth.

“Wrong, baby,” Charles mocked, revering in the way your were completely lost, at his mercy, his. His mouth crashed against yours once again as his hips moved frantically, his cock slipping in and out of you with ease given how wet you were. You tasted blood on him as you realized he had bitten his own lips a couple of times, an attempt to resist, to stay longer, to delay the ending of the act.

The sound of his skin on yours filled your ears, tears streaming down your face as you suppressed louder sounds from coming out of your mouth. You were so close it was ridiculous, barely any coherent thoughts flashing through your mind, your whole being focused on pleasure only.

“Gonna fill you up the way you deserve it, brainless little brat” his words were more aggressive, more intense, his need to claim you, leave his mark, increasing with every thrust. “You want it don’t you?” he asked, the question so earnest yet so stern, his eyebrows betraying his dominant attitude for just a second. “Say you want it.”

He didn’t have to. You were ready to beg for him, to have your thighs sticky with his warm cum. “I want you to fill me up, Charles” you managed to say, after a couple of failed attempts, to which he replied by moving faster against you, his hand on your clit. “Fuck I’ve wanted to fuck you senseless for so long now” he said, eyes rolling at the back of his head now, words coming out of him slurred and dragged. “You deserve it; always fucking teasing me” he continued, his words sending you over the edge, a feeling of ecstasy flowing through your veins as you came around his cock, cunt pulsing and nails digging deep into his arm.

That was the tipping point for him. He cursed loudly as he moved deeper and deeper inside you, cum spilling out of his cock into you, filling you up. After a couple of seconds, he removed himself from inside you, taking a few steps back to admire the view.

You were flushed out, lips swollen, red pussy dripping with his cum, mascara running down your big eyes. “Fuck” he let out, looking like a mess too. “Who would’ve thought,” he said, smiling to himself, the Charles you were used to coming back slowly, almost like he had been like that the whole time.

“What?” you asked, your senses coming back to you, looking around for a way to clean yourself.

“Miss Smart Ass is a freak” he joked, a smirk on his face, the dimple on his cheek so visible it made him look innocent.

“Says you” was all you could reply.

“You want to turn this into a competition too?” Charles crossed his arms in front of his chest, veiny forearm showing. You couldn't help but stare in admiration.

It was your turn to laugh now, knowing this was a one-time thing. At least for now. “You wish.”

“Maybe I do. You still wanna smoke one?”

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hopelesslygaysstuff · 9 months ago

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October 13 - Roleplay

pairing: dom!Wanda x sub!Reader

summary: Wanda paints you, and you find yourself enjoying your new role as a princess.

content warnings: cunnilingus

word count: 1.4k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

“Be a good muse for me,” Wanda murmurs, and you stifle a giggle.

At first, the thought of roleplay had sounded silly to you. I mean, honestly, why would you want to play pretend? But, Wanda had convinced you to be her muse. She had an art project to finish and needed a figure to paint. So, thus began your first introduction to roleplay.

You stayed still, a sheet draped over your body as you remembered your role. A princess, stuck in a castle with only the painter for company while she waited for someone to rescue her with a true love's kiss.

Sure, it was cliche and sappy. But that’s what you loved about it. It really played into the ridiculousness of the situation, and it definitely eased your worries of feeling silly.

“Is this pose alright?” You asked, sitting casually in your chair. Throwing a leg over the arm of the chair, you make sure that the sheet is covering your nude center before smirking at Wanda.

Her green eyes are wide and hungry, locked on the sheet hiding your supple curves.

“Perhaps you could move the sheet a bit, my princess.”

”How so?” You’re teasing her, your words light as mischievous as she glances up towards your face.

Wanda purses her lips slightly, setting down her paintbrush as she slowly stands. Her steps are sure, a few strands of her auburn hair escaping her bun and framing her face perfectly. A spare pencil holds her hair together, and you long to remove it.

Long fingers gently touch the fabric draping over your shoulder. Green eyes meet yours, and you shudder.

“May I?”

Mutely, you nod. Her fingers are warm and tantalizingly close, sure with their movements as they maneuver the fabric over your body. Wanda lays the fabric over one shoulder, leaving the other bare with a hint of collarbone peaking out. The sheet is soft against your chest, but thin enough to show your nipples poking through when she adjusts the fabric.

A small smile creeps onto Wanda’s lips, and you imagine that you’re a princess, desperate for attention and starved of any touch or affection. Suddenly, the urge to crash your lips against hers rages within you, and you feel yourself truly lean into the roleplay for the first time.

”Do you paint women often?”

Wanda looks up from where she was placing the fabric over your lap, her freckles standing out in the dim lighting from candles around the room. It’s easy to imagine that you’re up in a high cobblestone tower, the solitude surrounding you as you cling to your guest like a lifeline.

“I do, but none have been quite as exquisite as you, princess,” she whispers as if sharing a secret with you. It makes you lean in, your hands clutching the fabric tightly.

Looking back down, Wanda’s hands softly cover yours. She pries your fingers off the fabric, another hand gently pressing against your sternum until you’re seated against the back of the chair.

”It’s very important that you don’t move too much during this process, Your Highness,” she explains, a small smile playing on her lips at your reluctance to sit back. Her hands are warm, even through the cloth, and your skin burns from her touch.

Her hands leave, and you feel oddly… empty.

“Do you really have to sit all the way over there?” You ask, watching Wanda’s head tilt in thought as she looks between you and her easel.

“Well,” she muses, moving her easel closer. You can smell her vanilla perfume, and you grow dizzy with need and anticipation. “I suppose being closer would help with the details. Excellent idea, princess.”

Her hand pats your knee, and you breathe in deeply. God, how were you this aroused already?

”Remember, stay still for me.” Wanda begins painting, her warm green eyes glancing between you and the easel. The sound of her paintbrush on the canvas fills the room, and you find yourself longing to feel the touch of it against your skin instead. Anything to settle the sudden energy simmering in your muscles.

Your mind wanders, immersing itself into this false world you’re acting in. A sort of haze takes over your mind as you begin to dive deeper into the roleplay.

Imagining the loneliness of a princess who awaits her true love, feelings of despair and desperation well up. A warm ball of hope and excitement joins it, beating solidly in time with your heart as you gaze at Wanda.

A new guest. A beautiful one at that, once that actually touched you. It had been far too long since you’d had the company of another.

Wanda scoots her chair closer to you, angling the easel slightly towards you. Her knee touches your thigh, and you suddenly feel dizzy with need. It’s excruciating, trying to remain still while her body heat presses against you and her eyes take in your figure like you’re the most important piece she has to create.

Fuck waiting for true love, you’re pretty sure you’ve already found it. It shows in the small glances Wanda sends your way, in the fluid movements of her hand as she paints you onto her canvas, forever immortalized in careful strokes of a brush.

You lick your lips, desire taking over your body. You watch Wanda glance towards your mouth, her hand hesitating before painting the next stroke. Biting your lip, you smile slightly at the shaky breath Wanda takes.

“You seem distracted, am I boring you?”

Wanda’s eyes snap to yours, surprise coloring her features for a moment before she smirks. She sets the paintbrush down, removing her apron slowly as her knee presses steadily against your thigh.

“Of course not, princess. I just find myself longing to partake in a different art form.” She leans closer, her chair now directly next to yours. You could feel her warm breath hitting your cheek, and somehow manage to keep your composure.

“Oh?” Your voice cracks, and you clear your throat while Wanda moves closer to you. “And what would that art form be?”

Her breath hits your ear, and you feel her lips against your cheek. Your skin is tingling with energy, and you’ve never felt more alive. You can feel the roleplay haze taking over, the idea of a beautiful woman finally touching you after years of isolation nearly sending you over the edge.

“Let me show you.”

Her hand reaches for the fabric draped over your body, caressing your skin through it as you pant and squirm in your chair. Your fingers grip the armrests, your eyes pleading with Wanda for more.

She’s silent, her eyes hungrily roaming your body as she begins to slowly pull the sheet off. It feels almost reverent, the way her fingers graze your hot skin and how dark her eyes are when she looks at you.

Pulling you up from the chair, Wanda ignores the sheet as it falls around your feet, her lips connecting with yours in a frenzy of passion and need. You moan into her mouth, your hands gripping onto her shirt and bunching it up around her waist.

“Bed,” she commands, her voice soft and firm.

You obey, your mind filling with a vanilla-scented haze as you feel your senses become fuzzy. Wanda is everywhere, the smell of her perfume filling your nose as her hands run over your body. You can feel her hair as it drags along your chest and stomach while she kisses her way down your body.

Gasping, you feel Wanda’s mouth on you, licking up your arousal. You’re wetter than you’ve ever been, your hips thrusting against her lips as she builds you up. Her fingers dig into your waist, your hands in her hair as you chant her name.

With a cry, your back arches, and your orgasm rises rapidly. Raising her head for a brief moment, Wanda smiles and says, “Cum for me princess.”

Your brain registers her command at the same time that her lips wrap around your clit and suck, pleasure exploding throughout your body as you throb. The feeling is intense, your mind fracturing slightly as you unravel beneath Wanda, her name flowing from your lips in short gasps.

Somewhere, you think you can hear your name being called, and you blink as soft fingers stroke your face, grounding you. Green eyes meet yours, a smile on Wanda’s glistening lips. She kisses you, and you respond eagerly for a moment before she pulls back again, her fingers reaching down to circle your hard clit. You shudder, and her smile widens.

“Lay back, darling,” Wanda says, her eyes sparkling. “I’m going to make my princess cum again.”

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jenscx · 1 year ago

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[01] tumblr girls — first and last

it was cliché; being in love with danielle marsh, the straightest girl on earth. you thought your feelings were hopeless, until you discover her tumblr blog.

you squint your eyes at the excel sheet being flashed on screen. mo jihye? did your class even have someone called jihye? you sigh. the student was probably one of the kids at the back and would leave you to do all the work.

just your luck, that the project worth almost 30 percent of your final grade relied on some random person.

“i got jiwoo…” minji says.

hanni rolls her eyes, “that’s not bad. i got yeonjun. bro is gonna be so annoying.”

you turn to your two friends, confusion apparent on your face, “who the hell is mo jihye?”

minji and hanni both look at you with widened eyes, mouths agape.

“you don’t know jihye?” hanni asks, “she’s one of the most popular girls in school!”

“you saying that doesn’t help at all,” you murmur, heart racing at the thought of your high school’s most popular friend group. minji stares at you incredulously and you have the urge to slap your best friends.

“she’s australian and has a really nice voice,” hanni supplies unhelpfully. you furrow your brows, who else was australian other than danielle? maybe a new student.

sighing, you turn around to look at the screen again. the teacher now explaining the rubrics after the commotion about partners had died down. you frown, still thinking about jihye. somehow, you hadn’t heard of her and she was one of the most popular girls in school?

your eyes brighten when you realise that, one, jihye and danielle are probably in the same friend group, and two, becoming friends with jihye would basically mean becoming friends with danielle. you thought smugly to yourself.

(minji and hanni glance at you, concerned, when they hear you laugh quietly.)

“i encourage everyone to be in contact with their partners by the end of today. final assessment is due the last week of next month, please do take this project seriously as it is thirty percent of your grade,” mr lee says. your eyes dart around the class, danielle catching your onlooking gaze immediately. you feel your face flush and evert your eyes instantly.

you hear danielle’s god-gifted giggle and would have melted if not for the judging look from hanni. you try to sneak another glance at the girl, who crinkles her eyes when she smiles at you and you know it’s game over.

you were madly in love with a girl that probably didn’t even know your name. her brown gleaming eyes, angel-like smile, perfect wavy hair… you’re so screwed—

“y/n,” you snap out of your haze. “the bell just rung, class is over.” after blinking a few times, you realise that, one, minji and hanni had just ditched you, and two, danielle knows your name.

“ah… sorry,” you mumble a reply, embarrassed. danielle shakes her head and reaches out a hand to help you pack up. stunned, you glance at her and feel your cheeks heat up. wow… she has really long lashes…

“i saw you staring just now,” you freeze, “wanted to ask if you needed anything.”

she gazed at you expectantly.

“uhm…” you struggle to find a response, and was it always this hot in the classroom?

“sorry… i was just zoning out…”

danielle clicks her tongue and you feel guilty for making her impatient. she turns away, eyebrows furrowed.

“okay. i’ll see you later?”

“mhm.”

fuck, you were so lame.

“yeonjun keeps sending me hedgehog videos,” hanni complains, “who the hell keeps a hedgehog as a pet?” you pause momentarily, thinking, oh my god, i forgot about the project.

minji notices your stunned silence and nudges you with her elbow. “you good?”

“yup,” your voice cracks, “i don’t have jihye’s number.”

“oh, but didn’t you stay back in class—”

hanni gets interrupted when someone places a hand on your shoulder from behind. you slightly tense up and turn around slowly, eyes widening.

“hey…”

“hi y/n! i wanted to ask if you’re coming to the game later?” danielle smiles. you don’t have the heart to tell her that there’s a sea of homework piling up on your desk.

“uh, sure.”

“great! i’ll text you?”

“yes…”

with that, danielle bounces off. when you turn back to your friends, minji looks constipated and hanni’s brows are forming a judgemental look.

“what…?”

your two friends turn to look at each other and both release a coordinated sigh.

“for someone that gets straight As, you’re surprisingly stupid.”

“hey— what!”

“how could you not have her number if she just said that she’ll text you?” minji asks, exasperated. you gape at her, momentarily paused in time while hanni rolls her eyes at your stupidity.

“wait, what?”

“you didn’t know danielle and jihye were the same person— oh my god, are you even breathing? holy shit, hanni, do something bro!”

“what the hell?”

you blink, hands pulling at the varsity jacket minji had lent you. danielle got your number from haerin, who got it from jiwon, who got it from hanni. she texted you after school, making sure that you were attending the game and asking you to wait for her after so that you could work on your project. this was not how you wanted to spend the rest of the day. the stands were filled with students who cheered the cheerleaders on. they were performing some sort of routine before the game started.

despite the impressive flips and stunts they did, you could only focus on the brunette who was beaming brightly while performing. you stare in awe as they lift her up to do an aerial move. right as she is lifted, danielle (or jihye?) raises her head, making eye contact with you. hesitantly, you wave.

“—holy shit, did danielle just fall?” gasps erupt from the crowd as the cheerleader basically crashes down, arms flailing as she falls. the whole team rushes to her aid, and your eyes widen at the stink look one of them gives you.

the stands are filled with murmurs, mostly of worry and confusion. you feel guilt wreck you, did you distract danielle from performing? if she was injured, you would never forgive yourself. resisting the urge to get up from your seat to go see her, you sit back down, leg bouncing nervously. minji and hanni are seated beside you, muttering and whispering.

“it’s our first time attending a game and something goes wrong. this is why we don’t hang out with the popular kids,” hanni groans. minji nods in agreement while all you can do is shift in your seat in anxiety.

after danielle is escorted from the field to a bench, the game begins. you’re not focused on the game at all, more worried about danielle and whether she was okay. at the halfway point, minji and hanni leave to go get snacks, and you’re alone at the bench once more. feeling an urge to check in danielle, you groan, following your heart instead of your mind, and rushing down to the field. no one really notices you, more focused on the players and the game itself.

despite her injury, the girl still looks bright. her eyes gleaming and a cheerful smile on her face. she occasionally shouts out words of encouragement to the players and her fellow cheerleaders.

she doesn’t even notice you lingering around until one of your steps causes the grass to crinkle.

“oh, y/n!” danielle smiles awkwardly. you return the same. “wanna sit down here?”

“uh, i thought only cheerleaders were allowed to sit here?” you ask nervously, shifting your weight from one foot to another. danielle shrugs, “i don’t actually know. it’s okay if you sit though, i can just say you came to check up on me.”

you nod, hovering over the seat, unsure if you could actually take a seat. either fate, or danielle, decides you were taking too long, since she reaches out to your wrist, pulling you abruptly down.

with a yelp, you fall onto the bench ungracefully, cheeks heating up at the grip on your wrist and the shriek you let out. danielle, unable to resist, lets out the loudest laugh you’ve ever heard. your face flushing even more, you feel somewhat accomplished at the fact you managed to make her laugh.

now that you are sitting side by side with danielle, your throat constricts. wanting to start a conversation, you open your mouth, only to be interrupted by danielle who chirps happily, “let’s discuss our project!”

your posture deflates, an awkward smile put back onto your face. “sure.” you had wanted to avoid this topic the most; between your blunder of oh my god, jihye and danielle are the same person, and oh my god, my partner is danielle, it wasn’t a favourable position to be in.

“which topic do you want to do? i think we could do either cultural and prejudice or psychological affairs,” danielle says, “discrimination, inferiority of women— oh! maybe human attraction?”

you stiffen noticeably at the topic. human. attraction. of course danielle wanted to do a topic about human attraction. who wouldn’t be attracted to her? the brown, naturally-curled hair, hazelnut eyes, full lips—

“yeah, sure,” you croak out.

“great!” danielle smiles, “i think the game is ending soon, so i’ll text you about the project later? i gotta go hang out with my team.”

another nod. with her expectant gaze, you stand up, almost robotically, arms swinging by the side.

“uhm, that jacket…” danielle trails off. you tilt your head, what about your jacket?

“it’s minji’s?” she asks.

“uh, yeah.” you suddenly feel self-conscious, how’d she know it was minji’s? danielle seems to notice your confusion, since she points at the back, “says kim in big, bold lettering.”

you furrow your eyebrows. was there something wrong with your (minji’s) varsity jacket?

“you okay?”

danielle smiles, albeit dimmer than before, “yup. i gotta go.”

and with a wave, danielle leaves, limping towards her teammates, who welcome her with open arms. haerin sends you a stink eye and you gulp.

sighing, you head back up to the stands, minji and hanni celebrating the triumph of your school.

“where’d you go?” hanni asks.

you groan, “hell.”

masterlist | next

#tumblr girls ft. mjh #mo jihye x reader #jihye x reader #newjeans #newjeans x reader #danielle marsh x reader #danielle x reader

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lqvactually · 1 year ago

Text

After School ☆ L. Heeseung x Reader

Masterlist | Pt.1

☆ Synopsys : You have always been very interesting to Lee Heeseung. You keep to yourself, stay away from others. When you're assigned as his tutor, he does as he always does with the peculiar, he decides to figure out what's 'wrong' with you. But you're very different from how you seem.

☆ Tw: Swearing

“Fifty marks,” Mr. Yu grunted. “Twenty-two. Fifteen. Thirty-seven. What do these have in common?”

Heeseung shrugged, loosening his tie nonchalantly. His smirk only grew when he realized his actions had Mr. Yu even more frustrated. “They’re failing grades.”

“And?” It was obvious the poor man was about to burst. “Do you not care that you’re failing Korean, English, Physics, and History? Do you not care about University? No one will want you with these grades.”

This didn’t even phase Heeseung. “Frankly, no. I don’t care.”

Mr. Yu took a deep breath, setting his glasses on the table in front of him. “Lee Heeseung. You excel in math. You’re practically a prodigy. Why can’t you funnel that energy into other subjects?”

Another shrug from Heeseung. “Dunno.” The clock ticked on the wall as silence stretched between the two. Mr. Yu stared the boy down, slowly studying him. “What?”

“I’m going to have one of your classmates tutor you.” Heeseung’s eyes widened. He watched Mr. Yu pull out a manilla folder, leafing through it until he made an ‘aha’ sound.

“I don’t need tutoring Mr. Yu,” Heeseung huffed. “I’m perfectly fine-”

“Y/n. She’s perfect.” Mr. Yu grabbed a Post-it note and scribbled something down. “I’ll contact her. Trust you’ll be eating lunch with me if you stand her up.”

“What is this, a date?” The boy scoffed, grabbing the note.

Library 7:30.

Fuck.

Heeseung recognized you the moment he set eyes on you. Your face was not easily forgettable. It was one he, admittedly, loved to think about.

You were strange to him for two reasons.

Why would someone so beautiful not use their blessing? He for one loved to use his superior looks to escape detention or an awkward conversation.

You never chose to interact with anyone. Not him, not their teacher (unless forced,) not his friends, and seemingly, you had no friends of your own.

You looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Are you going to sit, or keep staring?" He opened his mouth to reply, but shut it and sit down. You pretended not to find this amusing. "Can I see your tests?"

Heeseung quickly regained his composure, handing you the papers with a smirk. "So you speak."

You gave him a harsh look. "Of course I speak, I just don't find anyone in our class appealing enough to speak to." You looked at his papers slowly. "You suck at all of these by the way."

"Ouch," Heeseung said, maintaining a playful smile despite his genuine hurt, "And, what makes people so unappealing?"

You study him for a moment. "People make people unappealing."

"Fair...fair enough."

You handed back his papers, scooting your chair closer to his. "You need most help in English right?" He nodded, slightly intimidated by your closeness. "Can you fill out this sheet for me?"

Heeseung glanced at it and scoffed. "No."

"No?"

"I don't know what any of this says."

You held in a sigh, quickly collecting yourself. "This is the first thing we learned this year."

"Yeah," Heeseung smirked. "I didn't pay attention.

"Not-" You clenched your fists. "Okay. Let's start with the basics."

It took him until exactly 10:23 to finally grasp the placement of particles. By then, you were over it.

"Okay," You let out a breath. "Let's be done for today." You wanted to be done forever but knew Mr. Yu would never allow that.

Heeseung looked perplexed still, but shook his head. "Can I have your number?"

"What for?" You looked at him suspiciously. His newly formed smirk did not help your disease.

"Just for later tutoring sessions."

"Fine."

As expected, Heeseung did not text just for tutoring sessions. When you asked him to shut up, however, he always had some smart comeback like "How could I stop talking to such a pretty girl" or "But you're just so irresistible."

Admittedly, you began to find this enduring. Maybe even pleasant.

He started to actually listen during lessons, and they were less stressful, becoming the highlight of your day. His desperate attempts at flirting made for a good laugh. Sometimes, you'd even let him penetrate your little bubble in the cafateria.

Today, you were at Heeseung's house sitting on the floor. It was one of the more unproductive days. He sat there trying to spin a pencil on his finger.

It was a futile effort.

"Come on Hee," You said. "We're almost done, just finish it."

He looked at you, and then the worksheet. "But it's boring."

This, you couldn't argue with. "What do you want in exchange for you finishing your work?" You pinched your nose bridge, exsahsted.

Heeseung thought for a moment before a large smile painted his handsome features (it wasn't that you found him handsome, he just was objectively so.) "I want a kiss."

His remark surprised you. "Haha, funny," You sneered. "I'm not kissing your ass."

"Although my ass is pretty nice, I meant on the lips."

"Weirdo."

He shrugged, raising his eyebrow. "I'll finish the paper if I get my reward."

"Just..." You huffed, throwing the papers at him. "Finish the damn worksheet."

For an hour he worked undistracted. You watched him. In the past week he'd improved in all subjects, he seemed to work harder. When he was done, he handed you the paper.

Most of it was correct.

"Good job," You said, starting to clean up. "I'll see you tomorrow at the same time."

Confusion appeared on Heeseung's face. "Hey where's my reward," He huffed. "You said-"

"I didn't say anything." This wasn't untrue nor was it completely honest.

A frustrated sigh left Heeseung. "Fine." You packed up your things, trying not to feel completely horrible about his sulking.

But it got to you.

You were halfway through the door when you turned around to kiss him on the cheek. "Good job, Lee Heeseung." He smiled, but you turned on your heel to leave before he could say a word.

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elliemarchetti · 1 year ago

Text

Comfort in Times of Pain

A longish entry for prompt 21 of @wolfstarmicrofic

Prompt: Magical Accidents

Words: 962

When he threw the hex, Sirius was convinced it would hit the target. He had invented the spell with James, and although he was certain it would work, he needed someone to test its effects on, and who better than a member of the Slytherin Gang? The only problem was that, although he didn't like to admit it, he had been wrong, and now he found himself with terrible wounds similar to cold burns that tormented his right arm.

“It was just a little accident, there’s no need to worry,” he had told Remus when his roommate had found him in the midst of medicating himself with an ointment they made during Potions. The mixture was already dampening his pain, but it was difficult to apply the right amount in the desired places with his left hand while he was busy preventing the liquid bleeding from his injuries from staining his uniform and sheets.

“An accident you won’t repeat because you will never try to use that enchantment again,” Moony muttered as he sat next to him, and despite the serious expression on his face, he had rolled up the sleeves of his already crumpled shirt and had begun, with delicate and expert fingers, accustomed to the injuries he often inflicted on himself during his monthly transformations, to cover him with the milky coloured lotion.

“I don’t understand how could you be so reckless after…” he started, but words died on his tongue when he met Sirius’ grey eyes. In normal situations, when they only acted as friends and were with the rest of the Marauders, Sirius managed to hide the enormous crush he had on Remus. He wasn’t sure when it had started, perhaps when he had consoled him after his disastrous breakup with Marlene, which occurred solely because of him and his damned passion for flirting with anything that breathed. It was his way of masking the countless insecurities that living in Grimmauld Place, under the same roof as Walburga and with relatives like Bellatrix and her parents coming and going every day, left him, but the beautiful blonde didn’t like it, and in the end jealousy had led them to no longer be able to even look at each other without shouting insults. When everyone else, anyone with a crumble of sense, had agreed with her, Moony was understanding, and to calm him down he had taken him for a long walk on the shores of the Great Lake. They had competed to see who bounced the flats stones the most times on the water’s surface, and Sirius had forgotten about his problems when Remus had started telling him interesting facts about everything around them. He was like an encyclopaedia, full of knowledge about the plants, the animals, the history, and the geography of the place, and it made Sirius ponder more about his character, how there was a quiet passion in everything he pursued, which also spilled over into his way of loving others. Within a few months, Sirius had found himself wanting to be on the receiving end of his love, and not just the platonic kind.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, his voice lower than before, a hint of blush creeping on his scarred cheeks.

“Like what?” replied Sirius, but he was quite sure he already knew the answer. Usually, he didn’t allow himself to focus too much on the aesthetic details that made Remus Lupin a living work of art, but when he was sure he couldn’t notice, like when they watched James’ Quidditch matches and he was so absorbed in the game, or when they studied in the library, he casted furtive glances at him to imprint in his mind the precise location of his freckles – scarce, but he was sure he had at least three on his nose – or the exact hint of green of his perpetually tired eyes. Although no one, not even his best friend, knew it, Sirius was an excellent painter. It was a suitable pastime for someone of his rank, or at least that’s what his family though, as long as he didn’t plan on making it a profession. Anyway, he had never cared too much about the opinion of those who considered him little more than a disgrace they had to erase from the family tree, so he had continued to follow his passion in secret, sketching the faces of everyone he loved in a notebook he took out from its hiding place between the mattress and the bed slats only when night had long fallen and everyone else was asleep. He rarely portrayed the same subject twice, with the exception of Moony, of whom he had started at least a dozen portraits without ever managing to finish them, dissatisfied with how the pencil made his features too harsh and at the same time too mundane. Remus was contemplative beauty, the tragic outcome of pride mixed with innocence, someone who had been touched by cruelty and came out even kinder and wiser. All of this was written in his subdued smile, in the way his eyelashes touched the top of his cheeks when he looked down in embarrassment, and try as he might, there was no way to convey this on paper, but it was still sacrilege not to make an attempt.

“Like you want to kiss me,” he answered, the exact words Sirius dreamed to hear him pronounce a thousand times.

“Maybe I do,” was all he could muster to say, all the other words he knew flying out of his brain. Was it just his imagination, or was he really leaning in?

“Maybe you should,” whispered Remus, and before he could change his mind, Sirius covered the distance between their lips.

#wolfstarmicrofic #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders era #actually i'm kinda proud of this one #even if it's unbetaed #hope you enjoy

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l0ve-f0rever · 2 months ago

Note

hello sinner!

are you tired of getting asks about your admirers instead of our beloved Kokomi?

are you worn out or depressed because of the spot you’ve been put in, aka not talking about the Perfect Pretty Girl all the time?

are you a big dumb idiot who thinks he’s fallen in love with someone who isn’t the Beautiful Angel herself?

well bud! have i got the solution for you!

preeeeesenting the all new:

“KOKOMI LOVERS UNITED! (a camp to help you realize the only person you need, love, want, and yearn for should be Kokomo Teruhashi!)”

sign up sheets are all over the school my good man, so take action about the satanic feelings you have and turn to our perfect Teruhashi for salvation! times running out, the devils grasp on you tightens with each glance you take into that sinners eyes. we can fix you, we can make you remember. so sign up for our 21-month Camp!

iiiiiit’s the only way to save your soul you dirty rotten snake like sinner!

-8th chairman brian

Okay. First of all, the Kokomins will always be superior to your foolish little startup. It is the first and largest organization devoted to Teruhashi, and I don’t understand why there would be offshoots of it. After all, if you really loved our beautiful angel goddess, you would know that She unites all. In the face of Her, we are free of factions and meaningless wars; all sinners who indulge in Her purity… and I am a sinner who has forsaken Her, and this is an unforgivable crime. Also, stealing the title of 8th Chairman from me, even in a foolish offshoot, is frankly quite low. I am the rightful eighth chairman, and I gained that title through my love of our beautiful angel goddess- though I don’t know if I can even say I love Her enough after the horrific crimes I have committed.

However, you do have an excellent buisness pitch here. I’m sure we can work something out.

#if you see satou ren on those forms that’s me #kokomins #tdlosk rp #saiki k #pk academy au #saiki k rp #sawakita kouki

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selene-and-the-cold · 2 years ago

Text

Drabble

Sooo.... I was meant to finish some other work, but then this scenario of plotless fluff kept budding in, so I present my OCs Nicholas and Robert with a case of the sniffles in supporting role.

Enjoy!

~~~~~

Nicholas carefully balanced out the tray in his hands. Perhaps he had been a little too generous with the herbal tea, as the cup threatened to spill over with every step.

Arriving at his partner's home office door, he knocked once then entered, not waiting for a reply.

"What the..?! Nicholas, you can't just barge in here before I had a chance to reply to your knocking!," Nicholas' partner Robert complained, dark eyebrows knitting together in indignation. He was sat behind his desk, clad in one of the elegant suits he insisted on wearing even when working from home. He had shed the jacket, though and was only donning his shirt and vest.

"What would you have said if I'd knocked?," Nicholas asked, balancing his tricky cargo on the tray until he had found a spot on Robert's little side table to set the tray down.

"Well, 'Come in', what people usually say in response to someone knocking at their door."

"See, you would have asked me to come in anyway. Which I just did, saving us both some time in the process. Time you are wasting with this stupid questioning."

Robert just huffed, then sniffled sharply before... "Heh'AttSSHhhue!" Uncovered, all over the keyboard of his computer. A flurry of quick sniffles followed, Robert's nose squished against his wrist.

"Bless you " Nicholas offered. "So your cold is getting worse?"

"I dod't have a cold!," Robert protested, but the congestion in his voice told a different story.

Nicholas stopped unloading his tray to glare at Robert, eyebrow raised.

"Ok fide, perhaps I caught a slight case of the sndiffles, but that hardly counts!"

"Sniffles then," Nicholas conceded. "How are they?"

Robert did not answer right away, stuck between his knee-jerk reaction of denial and his need for comfort.

"Getti'g sndifflier..."

A set of two sneezes followed, muffled into Robert's handkerchief.

Nicholas gave a sympathetic sigh, then stepped closer to his partner, who was still sat behind his desk. It was unusual for him to admit any kind of weakness, so the fact that he had admitted his "sniffles" were getting worse was testimony to just how awful he must have felt.

Robert swiveled the chair around until it faced Nicholas only to surprise both of them by suddenly reaching out and hugging Nicholas' waist. Robert pulled him close until he could bury his face in the fabric of Nicholas' t-shirt.

His head felt hot against Nicholas' stomach. Those sniffles were definitely headed towards serious headcold territory, but Nicholas held his tongue. Instead of getting on Robert's case about his cold, he gently held him close, threading his fingers through his dark hair, while his other hand drew soft circles on his shoulder blades.

"I brought you some tea, darling."

Robert groaned into him. He was the epitome of a coffee addict. Offering him tea bordered on insult.

"Whyyy?," Robert whined. "You kndow I hate tea! I ndeed coffee! Heh'pTttsshh!"

The sneeze was hastily muffled into Nicholas' shirt. Its warm, breathy release lingered on Nicholas' skin as the sneeze had found its way through the fabric, leaving a damp spot.

"You need a tissue from the sound of it...," Nicholas teased. "Besides, the tea helps with your sniffles."

"Ndo, I'b good," Robert insisted, even as he discreetly rubbed his nose against Nicholas' shirt to wipe it.

"How about a little break, darling? We could continue watching our show."

Robert hesitated. It did sound alluring. He looked up at his boyfriend, tired eyes and pinkish nose telling a silent tale of cold and sniffles. Suddenly, something shifted in Robert and he stiffened, broke their embrace and swiveled back around so he faced his computer.

"Ndo, I cad't, there's still so mbuch to do..."

Robert glanced at the computer screen, where an excell sheet straight out of hell created by Satan himself grinned back at him.

"Only one episode while we drink our tea~"

Nicholas seductively moved behind Robert and laid his hands on his shoulders, swiveling the chair back around until they faced each other once more.

"Only one episode, Robert... Pleeease?"

~~~~~

Half an hour later, the two men sat on the couch bundled up under their warmest blanket, one cup of tea in front of each of them. Their show flickered over the screen, but nobody was watching. Robert had fallen asleep about ten minutes in, his head lolling lazily against Nicholas' shoulder until he was snoring softly.

Nicholas was not watching the show, either. He watched his love. Pale, pink-nosed, and heavy with exhaustion, sleeping peacefully. He had decided that he would let Robert sleep for as long as he could. Who knew when the coughing and sleepless nights would start, so Robert needed all the rest he could get.

"Sleep well, my darling," Nicholas mumbled. There surely lay a few exhausting days ahead.

#Robert and Nicholas #my writing #just shameless fluff really #colds #caretaking #snz

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jun9w0n · 13 days ago

Text

☆ ENHYPEN AS YOUR OFFICE COWORKERS

─or in other words, them as your motivation to work.

( N𝒪T𝑒𝓈. ) enhypen as your secret work crush. fluff. mentions of food. fem!reader. 2300 words. PLS REBLOG .ᐟ

yang jungwon ( 양정원 )

୨୧ 𓂂 ˳ you rush into the office, your coat slipping half off your shoulder, your laptop barely closed in your bag. before you even reach your desk, your eyes catch sight of a steaming coffee cup. your name is written neatly on it — no hints as to who it’s from.

you let out a relieved breath. when you look up, you see jungwon, calm and focused as always, staring intently at his screen. he doesn’t even glance your way, but you just know the coffee is from him.

a small, almost involuntary smile tugs at your lips as you settle into your seat and take the cup in hand. “you’re late,” he finally says without looking away from the monitor.

“hm? oh... yeah, sorry.” you begin unpacking your laptop while speaking. “i overslept. i was trying to finish that report last night.”

only then does he lift his head and turn toward you slowly. his dark eyes soften, losing their usual sharpness. “which report?”

you furrow your brow slightly. “the one for the meeting today? you said it was important.”

a quiet grin spreads across his lips — subtle but sincere. “we could’ve worked on it together,” he says, with that familiar tone he always reserves for you — somewhere between teasing and warm. “i could’ve helped you, dummy.”

you roll your eyes, but you can’t stop a faint blush from creeping onto your cheeks. “i thought you were busy enough with your own stuff.”

he leans back slightly, still grinning. “for you, i’d even skip my excel sheets.”

you pretend to sigh, but your heart beats a little faster. “wow… that’s almost romantic.”

he winks. “wait until you see my powerpoint presentations.”

lee heeseung ( 이희승 )

୨୧ 𓂂 ˳ “so, are you actually working... or just pretending really well?”

his voice cuts through the quiet like it always does — effortless, teasing, a little too amused for someone who just walked into the room. you glance up, and there he is: heeseung, leaning against the edge of your desk with a coffee in one hand and, to your horror, your favorite pack of cookies in the other.

“what are you doing?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“inventory check,” he says innocently. “your snacks are now part of the team’s emergency supplies.”

he flashes you that signature grin—half smug, half charming—and props himself against your chair, half-hovering over your shoulder. you try to close your browser tabs, but not fast enough — he’s already seen.

“wow. five tabs open, three of them memes. classic.”

you roll your eyes. “research. for... the team’s emotional resilience.”

“sure.” he makes himself comfortable, sets down his coffee, grabs a cookie and slowly takes a bite. “i didn’t know animal memes were your coping mechanism. makes you weirdly more likable.”

“i like animals. at least they’re honest.”

“unlike... deadlines, excel sheets, and coworkers who steal your snacks?” he tilts his head.

you shoot him a look. “i’m this close to locking my drawers.”

he holds up his hands dramatically. “hey, i only take what you offer between the lines.”

you laugh — despite yourself. he notices. of course he notices. there’s a quiet satisfaction in his smile, like this was exactly the reaction he was fishing for.

“you should take breaks more often,” he says casually, grabbing another cookie. “it’s good for your nervous system. and your snack supply. which, by the way, is clearly under attack.”

“if you keep helping yourself, you’ll be the one under attack.”

heeseung raises an eyebrow, amused. “was that a threat?”

“an invitation to back off.”

heeseung leans back, lifts both hands in mock surrender. “okay, okay. i’m leaving — but i’m taking one more cookie for emotional support.” he shoots you a wink, grabs his coffee, turns to go.

but just a few steps away, he stops, looks over his shoulder and adds with a smirk, “if you need anything — memes, distraction, or cookie therapy — you know where to find me.”

and somehow, the day feels just a little less heavy after that.

park jongseong ( 박종성 )

୨୧ 𓂂 ˳ your eyes are glued to the screen while your stomach growls loudly and your to-do list seems to grow endlessly. the pressure on your shoulders feels heavier by the minute, and you can hardly believe how fast time is flying.

suddenly, you hear soft footsteps behind you. before you can turn around, jay gently places a bag with your favorite food next to your laptop. “i thought this might make your day a little better.”

you look up and meet his relaxed gaze, accompanied by a warm smile. it’s as if a small calm spreads through you in that moment. “you really have a talent for showing up at exactly the right time.”

he shrugs casually. “everyone has bad days sometimes. food just makes it a little easier.”

as you take your first bite, he leans in casually beside you and says in a calm voice, “don’t worry, it’ll be fine. and if not, i’ll just bring even more tomorrow.”

you smile, feeling some of the tension ease away. “thanks, jay. you’re my personal hero today.” he winks mischievously at you.

as the food touches your tongue, a quiet, relieved sigh escapes you.

“tastes good?” he asks, curious, peeking over his screen, his eyes the only part visible. you nod, mouth still full.

he grins and says, “good, otherwise i’d have wasted a lot of time in the kitchen.”

sim jaeyun ( 심재윤 )

୨୧ 𓂂 ˳ you’re sitting at your desk, just finishing up a story about your weekend, when jake suddenly appears next to you, laughing way too loudly at your poorly timed joke — like it’s the funniest thing he’s heard all day. you shoot him a questioning look, but he just grins mischievously and shrugs casually.

not long after, he’s back again, “checking” your pc even though everything is working perfectly fine. you’re about to protest, but he just plops down in the chair next to you and starts pretending to be helpful.

you lean back in your chair and grin at him. “isn’t this kind of time theft?”

his eyes sparkle with amusement. “what? i’m obviously helping you right now.” with a soft whir, he rolls his chair closer, leans in slightly, and taps your screen with his finger.

you follow his gaze — but there’s nothing new, nothing urgent, nothing that wasn’t exactly the same five minutes ago.

“you mean this perfectly stable, absolutely flawless spreadsheet?” you ask dryly.

“could crash any second now,” he murmurs, his tone calm, almost casual. but his eyes linger on your face just a moment too long, like he’s trying to read something there you haven’t quite noticed yourself yet.

you snort a laugh that makes your shoulders shake slightly and shake your head with a wide grin. “you’re impossible sometimes.”

later that afternoon, a message from jake pops up on your screen: “wanna step outside for a bit during the break? only if you need some fresh air”

before you can reply, he’s suddenly standing at your desk with two steaming coffees. he smiles and says casually, “i wasn’t sure which one you’d want… so i got both.”

you take one of the cups, nod gratefully, and feel your day suddenly lighten just a little.

park sunghoon ( 박성훈 )

୨୧ 𓂂 ˳ you’re juggling a towering stack of folders on your way to the copy room — because, of course, you’re the one who stepped in today, and of course no one told you just how much paperwork was involved. as you try to push the door open with your elbow, it suddenly swings wide before you can even touch it.

“are you seriously carrying all that by yourself?” sunghoon stands there, a crooked grin on his face, and without waiting for an answer, silently takes half the stack from your arms.

you blink, a little surprised. “uh… thanks.”

“welcome to hell,” he mutters dryly as you both step inside.

the copier whirs to life. you lean back against the wall with a tired sigh, while sunghoon positions himself nearby — not too close, but close enough that you can hear his voice clearly, even when he speaks softly.

“you do know you could’ve just handed all that off, right? the interns would’ve been pretty offended if you didn’t.”

“too late,” you murmur. “i’ve already booked myself some sore muscles.”

he looks at you sideways. “you’re weird.”

“thanks?”

“that was a compliment.” a small, almost imperceptible smile tugs at his lips, and you can’t help but grin back.

suddenly, the copier beeps. paper jam.

you curse quietly, but sunghoon’s already leaning forward, lifting the cover with practiced ease and freeing the crumpled page with a casual confidence that almost seems too cool to be real.

“do you do this a lot?”

“more than i’d like.”

as he straightens up, he slides the finished stack across to you. then he looks you straight in the eye. no grin this time — just that calm, serious gaze.

“next time you have to carry stuff like this… just ask me for help.”

you open your mouth to say something, maybe a witty comeback on your lips — but he’s already walking past you, back toward the office.

and though he said almost nothing, you can’t shake the feeling that you just got more attention from him than anyone else all day.

kim seonwoo ( 김선우 )

୨୧ 𓂂 ˳ the morning hasn’t even properly started, and you already feel three meetings behind and two coffees short. you drag yourself to your desk, bracing for another day of office chaos — when you spot a small, neatly folded note resting on your keyboard.

“today is tuesday. you need something sweet. check the second drawer. – ☀️”

you blink in surprise, pull open the drawer — and immediately have to smile. inside lies a donut, perfectly wrapped, glazed in your favorite color, sprinkled with bright confetti as if someone sprinkled a little magic onto the day.

your eyes scan the desks — and there he is: sunoo, glowing as always, surrounded by positive energy. he leans over his desk, waving at you with a grin.

“you’re going to need this,” he calls softly, just for you. “the call at ten is with him. but don’t worry, i’ve got your back.”

you laugh — half startled, half relieved. of course, he knows. of course, he’s thinking ahead. of course, he’s already two steps ahead — with sugar, color, and comfort — before you even realize you need it.

“what would i do without you,” you murmur, shaking your head as you take a bite of the donut.

sunoo pretends to ponder, resting his chin on his hand and squinting one eye.

“probably collapse miserably and cry secretly in the printer room.”

you almost choke on your donut and shoot him a mock outraged look.

“wow. harsh reality right at eight in the morning?”

he laughs, clear and bright, then leans in a bit, lowering his voice but keeping that typical sunoo sparkle in his eyes.

“just being honest. but hey, while i’m here, you don’t have to. i provide snacks, support, and silent judgments of people who type too loud.”

you grin and lean back for a moment. it’s exactly that mix of lightness and intuition that suddenly makes the morning a lot more bearable.

as you turn back to your screen, his gaze lingers on you for a moment longer.

“and remember, if the call goes south wink twice in my direction. i’ll find a way to get you out.”

“what, you gonna crash the server?”

he shrugs, completely serious, “if I have to.”

you laugh, and for the first time in days, tuesday doesn’t feel quite so heavy anymore.

nishimura riki ( 西村リキ )

୨୧ 𓂂 ˳ it’s late. the screens around you have long gone dark, the office chairs sit empty, and the hum of the air conditioning is the last trace of life on the floor. your eyes sting from staring too long, and just as you’re about to close your laptop, a ping suddenly appears on your screen.

a new email.

you click it open — and freeze.

MonthlyReport_final.xlsx

the file is complete. properly named, neatly formatted, every number accurate.

only… you didn’t do it. you completely forgot.

your heart skips a beat.

then a second ping. this time a message.

@Ni-Ki: saw you forgot. i was still here anyway.

you stare at the message. of course. niki. quiet, unobtrusive — but probably the sharpest eyes in the whole office.

before you can reply, a second message pops up:

@Ni-Ki: you owe me a coffee. or two.

you grin, shaking your head in disbelief. somehow, it hits you harder than you want to admit. that quiet recognition. that helping hand without many words. you type back.

@You: two. and a cookie. homemade, if you’re nice.

the only thing that comes back is a ☕ + 🍪

you lean back in your chair, feeling a little warmth in your cheeks, even though the office is usually too cold at this hour. maybe he’s still somewhere in the next room, headphones on, hoodie pulled over his head. maybe he’s been there the whole time.

maybe he sees more than you thought.

the next morning begins hectic as usual. but today, you have a little plan: with two steaming coffee cups and a small cookie in hand, you stand by niki’s desk. he’s there, as always, absorbed in his screen, headphones resting loosely around his neck.

“here—coffee and cookie, just like i promised,” you say, carefully placing the items next to his laptop.

niki looks up briefly, his eyes meeting yours. for a moment, a small, almost shy smile plays at his lips. no big words, no grand gesture — just that quiet sign that says thank you. that silent acknowledgment is enough.

as you turn and head back to your desk, a warm feeling lingers — a simple act that said more than a thousand words ever could.

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movedtoferinehuntress · 2 years ago

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Caitlyn's desperation to save Jinx is what pushed her to keep moving. Ignoring any pain in the ears, and the fog in her eyes finally gave way to more clarity. She turned over her head, catching Jinx saying something as she shook her head. She didn't know who the creepy doctor was but she shook her head. "we aren't going to any creepy doctor, I promise," She tugged once more, as she nodded her head, a little smile on her lips. "You keep refusing, and yes, you need to see Vi again. She's not going to be mad, I know she won't be mad," That was one thing Caitlyn did not doubt. She gripped the rope and pulled harder, the adrenaline and pure stubbornness to get her sister somewhere safe drove her forward.

A bit more pulling and Caitlyn looked back to see Jinx suddenly slipping her head turned with eyes closed and apprehension filled her chest. So foreign a feeling for someone like Jinx, and yet she couldn't push it away. Instead, her mind compelled her to work harder. No, it wasn't her mind, it was her heart, refusing to even think of losing Jinx now. A sigh of relief came that Alexis would help, as she glanced over to the room and nodded, "I'll stay by her, hopefully, I can make sure she knows it's safe if she wakes," No creepy doctor. whoever that was, she didn't think it was Alexis. Who, though? She would have to ask Jinx that question after this event. Her hands rubbed raw from the constant pulling of the rope, as she let out a breath once they finally dragged the metal sheet instead. Blue eyes strained over to notice two men occupying the room but ignored it in favor of closing the door and moving over to Jinx. Her body ached so badly, threatening to land on her knees and not get back up.

Her hand pressed against the wall before her head snapped toward the men and growled. No matter the amount of blood dripping from her ears, she heard those words as she grabbed her knife from her boot picked up Jinx's gun, and pointed it directly toward the two of them.

"Let your good mood vanish," Caitlyn immediately threatened, moving to stand in front of Jinx. It didn't matter if her hand was a little shaky or the aches in her leg threatened to send her to her knees. Her eyes glared with an overwhelming determination to not let her body give out on her. Glancing at Alexis, she nodded her head without hesitation. "Without a doubt," Caitlyn said as she turned back to face the two men whom she would not hesitate to shoot if they tried to come near her sister. "How about we change this up, you two make your way out the door without touching the three of us, or, I'll put a bullet between your eyes. And don't test me. I'm an excellent shot, and I won't miss," Caitlyn glared, defending Jinx with a feral anger in no mood to even give them the option of compromise. Whether Caitlyn realized it or not, there had been a shift and she would protect her with her life.

For as quickly as Jinx could be roused to fury, and that could slide into near hatred under the right circumstances she could also be calmed nearly as quickly. Caitlyn’s hand at her cheek, and the half heard reassurance followed not long after by an apology settled Jinx down as she tried to nod. “Just not...creepy….doctor.” Too out of it to offer up Singed’s proper name there was a flash of something between fear, and hatred in her eyes for a second before her head rolled to one side and she tried her best to make things easy on Caitlyn for once although that was just as much for her own benefit as Caitlyn's.

“Wont die. Refuse… Not… dying here. Heh. Gotta see, Vi, least once more...right?...Saved you...so… she won’t be mad. Right?” Voice a bit drifty there was also that particular longing that crept into it from time to time when Vi was mentioned. It made sense to Jinx though. She’d saved Caitlyn from being stuck in that small space, and had made sure Caitlyn had been kept as safe as possible so didn’t that prove she was at least trying to handle things in a “good” way? Whatever good really even meant beyond whatever kept the relevant person happy.

Even Jinx had her limits however, and by the time Caitlyn found herself face to face with Alexis the blue-haired killer was near enough unconscious. Pistol barely held in her hand, and eyes half closed as she let out faint sounds of discomfort here and there. The last time she’d been this helpless was after the fight with the boy savior on the bridge, and ironically enough it was once again because of her own explosive. If she’d been awake enough to consider things it might have made her laugh.

Alexis against their better judgement considering it was after all the loose cannon Jinx on the metal sheet moved to help Caitlyn. “It’s alright. Didn’t took an oath to only help certain people. Everyone is supposed to get aid when it’s called for.” Turning just enough to head towards the house Alexis’s eyes narrowed just a touch in thought. They weren’t entirely sure it’d actually be abandoned, but it was better than staying out in the open. “Good enough. I can look her over when we get inside. Assuming she doesn’t react badly to that.” Before long they were at the door of the house, and stepping into it they blinked once or twice to let their eyes adjust. Of course there had to be a couple of people in the house already with two men standing to gaze at the wounded Caitlyn, practically helpless Jinx, and Alexis who didn’t really look that imposing.

“Fucking hell is that really that mad dog? Jinx? Fuuuuuck me there’s a bounty on that bitches head both topside, and some of the barons down here. Could make some money off her, and already strapped down and helpless.” The two glanced at each other than smirked before looking towards Caitlyn, and Alexis. “Tell you two what. We’re in a good mood. How about you two fuck right on off, and we’ll take care of the mad bitch there? Go on than. Before my good mood vanishes.” One of them started to grab a club off of the ground, and another one pulled a long knife from his belt.

Alexis went utterly still for a second before one hand slid into their coat, and their arm tensed as though perhaps half pulling something from a sheath. “Caitlyn. Is she worth it? Jinx I mean?” They already disliked the two men in the house, but not quite enough to simply attack just yet. All the same if Caitlyn truly felt Jinx was worth protecting than Alexis would do what it took.

#independentzaun #[muse] caitlyn — interactions.#[post canon verse] — its time for change.#thread: when the tables shift

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strangerhottotties · 3 years ago

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Ty's Kinktober | 11. Anonymous Sex with Eddie Munson

Summary:

Warnings: MINORS DNI +18, Seriously. Sex clubs, voyeurism, exhibitionism, drinking, inappropriate drug use, consensual sex, anonymous sex, Steve being awkward as hell, virgin!perv! Eddie because I love him.

A/N: I want to say thank you to my wonderful readers. I'm really trying to work on quality for you guys instead. I've pretty much just been doing nothing lately. I have no excuse besides the fact that sometimes you just gotta hibernate. In true GoblinGirl fashion, I was just kinda dancing around my dwelling and eating for like 2 months.

A reward for a great quarter and for Eddie graduating, Rick had called it. Eddie's turn in the upside down, and all the craziness that went with it had really increased his risky behavior and made for a great monetary motivator. Because despite his friend being a drug dealer, he still wanted the best for Eddie. He was the older brother that Eddie had never growing up. Rick wanted to mold him, churn him out as someone better than he'd ended up. Besides, Eddie was there to market to the high schoolers who wanted cheap weed.

Steve Harrington was crammed in the backseat, shifting uncomfortably. Every time Eddie looked back he had to hold in a cackle at just how terrified his friend looked. He'd cracked a couple nervous jokes about dealing drugs tonight. Eddie's reassurances to both of them lead to Rick shaking his head often.

Eddie spent the reast of the ride pestering Rick.

As Rick pulls into a parking lot filled to the brim with cars and trucks and other things, Eddie catches a glimpse of the building, people filing in. "Is this a strip club? You know we have those in Hawkins, right? We didn't have to drive all the way to Indianapolis just to see some tits." He chirps as a woman in a skimpy leather makes her way into the building. He could hear the thrumming of music from the building.

"This is better than a strip club. You gotta make a reservation to get into these places. This is the only one in the state."

"What is it?"

"Here," Rick chuckles, nudging Eddie. From his jacket pocket, he dragged out a thick roll of money. "This is for you both. Entrance fee is two hundred, if you want a room, it's another hundred for an hour. You got a grand here." Eddie's brows shoot into his hairline.

"Is this a brothel!?"

"What is this? The Middle Ages? No, man, this is a sex club. People show up to meet people and fuck. It's a good time. The only people they're paying in there are the bouncers and the bartender."

"I'm sorry did you just say sex club?" Steve baulks.

"Yeah, I did. Now, get your ass out of the car and have your I.D.'s handy."

"Hey, what if we see someone who we know." Rick passes Eddie a look. They tread on ahead and Eddie feels his belly roll with excitement at the idea that he might actually loose his virginity.

"Aren't you the Freak of Hawkins?" With an encouraging nudge, he leads on. Eddie feels his heart racing in a familiar way as they approach an awaiting bouncer. There is a crowd out the door. He follows the lead and glances at the rows of skimpy college girls and crowds of frat brothers in sheets made into Togas.

They pause at the front of the line where red ropes cart them off. A burley giant guard the door with a wicked mean sneer. "Please, look at these two." One kid at the front calls, looking like how Eddie expected Steve Harrington to turn out. Clean, pressed and swimming in nothing but Daddy's money.

"Rick. I'm gonna need some ID from those two." The bouncer grunts, giving the two runts behind him a doubious look as Rick gives him a pat to the shoulder.

"Were celebrating."

"Celebrating what? Bought a new trailer?" The kid in line chirps. Steve scoffs at him.

"Excellent quarterlies," Rick grins at the kid, looping his arm over both of their shoulders. Eddie gets the whiff of his cigarettes and cheap cologne. "And my best investor." The kid rolls his eyes at them As Rick starts to lead the two young men in by their shoulders.

"Vinny, do me a favor and don't let this kid chase any of the girls inside away."

"Just what I was thinking, Rick." Up goes the rope. Eddie grins at the guy as they pass into a dark red hallway.

"What! You can't be serious! You're letting white trash dictate whether or not you let me in! You're gonna regret-" The shut of the door seals off the rest of the entitled pricks words. Loud music replaces the sound of it. Eddie is appreciative of whatever guitarist was playing.

They approach a counter with two cashiers. Both assistaning people to start. "It's not about money in here. Just remember to wrap 'em up boys. From personal experience, gonorrhea is not fun." Rick tells them as they form a line to wait, and he hands them both a roll of condoms. Eddie is nudged by Steve, trying to see through the round window on the door. The throngs of people are bathed in the bright red light of a repurposed disco ball.

He follows Steve's eyes toward the rule board behind the Cashiers.

No minors.

No fetish shaming.

Clean up after yourself.

Always use a towel.

No outside food or drinks.

"I'm not gonna see some guy's dick, am I?" Eddie gives Steve a bewildered look.

"It's a sex club, of course you're going to see dicks."

"Eddie," Steve hisses.

"This is so fucking weird. I thought we were going drinking."

"Oh, they've got a bar." Rick replies like Steve was more worried about being able to get a beer, then he steps up to the register.

"Let's just get a drink, and if it's too weird than we can go." This has got to be at least a little cool if it's worth a two-hundred-dollar entrance fee." Steve narrows his eyes at him.

"I'm not gonna look at your dick." Eddie passes Steve a disturbed grimace as Steves words. "Wait, that came out wrong."

"Sure it did," Eddie chuckles and walks to the counter to pay. Steve mutters to himself in mortification. And watches a woman in a tiny black dress hang off of someone old enough to be his grandfather head up stairs on the opposite side of the room.

"What'll it be?"

"Uh, entrance?"

"First time?" The cashier grins at him. "What package would you like?" The cashier spreads a menu out in front of Eddie with a flourish of his hand. Steve approaches with interest. "It can be a little overwhelming at first, you know, a lot to take." Eddie watches as the cashier passes Steve a hot look once over. He pats Steve on the back with a chuckle. Steve shoots him a panicked look.

"What... what would you suggest for two... young... straight guys," Steve hints. The cashier gives him a lofty chuckle.

"Well, if you change your mind, I'm here all night. Our basic services include the bar, where you're welcome to order from our fabulous bartenders. I recommend Lindsey's Liquid Marijauna. It goes down smooth and packs a mean punch, while you look for a potential partner for tonight or simply watch the exhibition."

"Exhibition?" Steve asks. Eddie clears his throat.

"Probably people who liked to be... watched."

"Oh," Steve chimes while his spreading blush creeps down his neck. "Yeah, of course."

"That's the Classic package, but really, why stop there when you could sample the whole spread."

"There's more?" Steve chirps nervously.

"So much more," the cashier purrs. "The Gold package gives you all of that, an hour in one of our personal rooms, with a fully stocked mini bar, access to the buffetroom where you can choose what and where to eat, and the pool if you'd like to cool off, but I never recommend water as lube."

"That sounds kind of unsanitary."

"We pride ourselves on cleanly. The pool is also treated every night."

Eddie passes an impress look onto Steve. "Can I ask about the togas?"

"Yes, that's a very exciting event we're having tonight. If you want to you can purchase our VIP package and you can have access to go where you please, including Mount Olympus, it's the orgy room. There will be an excellent spread of fruit and wine before we name tonight's Love Goddess, Aphrodite. It'll be put to a vote. She wins our best suite in the house." The cashier holds up a brochure that showcases an expensive looking room, wall lined with every toy you could want. "And will be allowed to spend the night with whomever she chooses, and all of our ladies who have signed up for the competition have marked that they are single."

"Yeah, and how much extra is this VIP."

"Two hundred total for VIP access."

"You didn't think I'd lie to you, now, would you, Eddie?" Rick jokes, as he appears with a gold streak of paint down his left cheek.

"Never, man." Eddie slides the wad of cash out of his pocket and fishes out four hundred for the both of them."

"Would you like to reserve a room tonight? We have several rooms available for reservation."

"Let's see how the night goes," Rick interjects.

"Absolutely." The cashier chirps and then checks the twenties Eddie rolled out. With a satisfied smile, the cashier lifts his brush up, stroking it through gold paint. "Come forward my little Sex Club virgins!" Eddie steps forward with an awkward chuckle. A nervousness is sinking into his belly.

The paint is cold as a gold stripe is swiped down over his forehead, left eye and onto his cheek, stopping as it neared his mouth. When the cashier leans back, he moves to let Steve step up and the Cashier takes his time detailing a heart on his left eye in gold. "All set, go forth and prosper, boys."

Eddie feels his heart racing as Rick animatedly leads them out of the lobby and into the barroom. It's a club. The room thrums with life. The band is playing something dark and sexy. Edgy enough that Eddie doesn't completely mind the vibe. Above the bar he sees the exhibition. His heart leaps in his chest at the sight, like it was wrong. Despite him anticipating it, the sight of people actually fucking so publicly above the bar gave him a start.

The tits pressed to window as he watched a woman get railed buy a man dressed in a toga. Beside them was a man getting a blow job and the final room was empty for now. The bar was busy. The dance floor even more so, packed with people dancing to the live band playing in the corner.

"Let's get started with my last surprise of the night, at least as far as you're both concerned!" Rick shouts. He passes them each a little white pill. "Only one."

"What is this?" Steve shouts back.

"They call it Exstacy."

"What's it do?" Steve demands.

"What do you think it does?" It's at the bar he gives them a good luck and instead begins to trot after a blonde in a toga.

"He bailed quick."

"No kidding. I'm just surprised he didn't get a drink first."

"We definitely shouldn't take this, right?"

"Nah, he wouldn't give us anything crazy. Drink water with it and you'll be fine." Eddie waves down a stunning bartender with smokey eyes and cleavage. She rolls up.

"This is so crazy! What the fuck did we just pay four hundred dollars for!?"

"Dude, to get laid! Come on, you complain about all the sex you have and you can't handle a sex club?"

"That's in private! That dude is getting blown above the bar!"

"What can I get you virgins to drink!" Steve gasps in offense at her playful grin.

"Two beers. Whatever cheap shit you got."

With a quick lean below the counter, she withdrawals two cans of P.B.R. and sets them down in front of the two. "Someone as Vanilla as you, this is a cruel joke from your friends I guess. Stick out at the bar, Rick will be a while."

"Vanilla? I am not vanilla." She snorts at him.

"Sure," she hums leaning onto the counter with a flirtatious undertone that Eddie picks up on. He rolls his eyes and is gratefully distracted by someone pushing her way around him. She has to brush up against Eddie to get to the bartender. She weasles around him so quickly that she's essentially pinned against the counter and him. He's about to bitch at her because someone is now bumping against his front and back and Steve's climbing onto the open stool, but then he gets a waft of her perfume and decides it's not so bad. He can't see her face, but he gets an excellent view of the stunning curls that are piled on top of her head.

"Lindsey, please, I need a drink."

"You're supposed to be getting ready for the competition!" The bartender scolds but reaches for a glass. She fills it as the girl who Eddie isn't minding.

"Yes, hurry, they're herding us into the orgy room." The girl blinks and shakes her head. "Fuck, I can't believe that actually came out of my mouth."

"You're the one who wanted to show Jean up with your costume."

"IT'S AUTHENTIC!" The bartend laughs and passes her a drink that's blue and most definitely almost straight alcohol.

"Yeah, yeah. Now run for this month's rent!" The girl twists around with her drink and finds Eddie. He's nearly knocked flat at her and finds that he goes mute for once, only offering her a his most charming smile. She sucks in a breath, he sees it in the way that her chest expands. And he doesn't miss the gold paint that is like big winged liner or the gold lips she's sporting.

She tries to lean to go around and he leans with her by accident. Or maybe subconsciously he wants her to stay. She's pretty. And soft. And not wearing a bra. He'd like to fuck them, certainly. "Uhh, excuse me?" She tries awkwardly.

Eddie immediately feels his chest tighten at the girl who was... cute. Very cute.

Steve smacks Eddie's shoulder. "Dude, you have to actually talk to a girl you know."

"I fuckin' know that, asshole." Eddie snaps back. The girl's eyes widen, and she passes an anxious look back at the bartender.

"Uh, it's pretty packed in here and I've got to get to the orgy room!"

"Do you want some help to get there?" Eddie offers. She blinks at him in surprise.

"No thanks," with that she slips right past him.

"She a friend of yours?" He chirps. The bartender smiles a chesire cat smile.

"Yeah, she's not as intimidating as she tries to be. Give it another shot. You're just her type."

"Devilish?"

"Sure, whatever you wanna call it. A suggestion: ask about her dress." Steve doesn't hide his grin. Eddie watches the way the lights make her dress glow all the way across the room. He decides that he's up for a challenge tonight. And he'd really like to fuck her.

....

Eddie doesn't stick around Steve who is hitting on the bartender relentlessly. She's laughing at his jokes at the very least. He explores slowly, finding Rick locking lips with a babe in the pool room. His clothes are soaked through, and the woman is working on unbuttoning his shirt. Eddie tries not to stare and lets his eyes pass the people sloshing through the pool with a game of volleyball. That didn't particularly appeal to him, so he moved on. The buffet was something new.

There was an actual buffet with a steaming spread that actually smelled really good. Some people were eating, and they were also watching couple eating things off each other, feeding each other.

He found the entrance to the Exhibit. And than he came to the gated off section. The Orgy Room was guarded by a bouncer. Only people with gold paint on their faces being allowed through. VIP access, he realizes. He throws back the MDMA, washed down with his beer before he even approaches the room.

The interior is decorated with the sheets and shimmery drapery. There are couches and ornate furnishings. Cushions and hookah, the room smokey and thick around the pond that was the centerpiece. Or it felt like one. The fountain already had people gathering.

The contestants were lining up on the stage at the far end. He grinned when he spotted the girl from before, sipping on her drink at the back of the line.

He found that he wanted to make her face lose that sour expression, wondering what she might look like when she was laughing... and then he wondered what her face would look like after she came. He's imagining her hair sweety and messy - falling out of the careful hairstyle she had. Face flushed and sweaty.

This room drew him in more as he moved slowly though the gathering people. Some of them already celebrating the festivities. She spots him halfway through the room. His eyes are on her. She straightens her shoulders up and tilts her head at him. Still, he approaches, holding her gaze until he stops a few feet from her.

He doesn't actually know her, so he can't be biased, but he thinks she's going to win. "Hi," she replies, not having to shout in here. Although her voice is stern, it's not tight enough to be completely dismissive. "Did you follow me in here?"

"What's authentic?"

"Excuse me?" She asks in confusion.

"At the bar. You said 'It's authentic'."

"Oh... my attire," she offers nervously. She glances down at herself.

"Are you saying it's historically acurate?" She seems to light up as she realizes he's actually asking about an interest.

"Yes, this is a chiton, it's the bottom layer. The upper class wore more dyed fabrics cause they were more expensive. At least until the forth century. That was around the time that the Greeks and Romans started to sew." Eddie find himself smiling down at the excited explanation she gave him.

"It looks really good. Did you make it yourself?"

"Yes! I even hand stitched the embroidery!" Eddie grins at that.

"Really? Can I take a closer look?" He asks. She opens her mouth but is cut off when they announce for everyone to find a seat because the competition is about to begin.

"Shit," she curses.

"Do you want to talk about it more after?" Eddie offers. Her eyes light up at that.

"Oh, you're really trying to get your dick sucked." His eyes widen at her bluntness, but her grin tells him she might not just be joking. "Deal. I want a sofa though!" He grins with red cheeks before he nods once and glances around. There's one close to the side of the stage that he quickly claims. He doesn't miss the stack of black towels nearby, he reaches for the hookah as the girls prep to walk on stage.

They're introduced as the Greek Muses. Eddie catches a glimpse of the fruit that's presented in a bowl. He snatches the grapes as the bowl to munch on as the night starts up. They introduce her as Clio, the Muse of history. He wonders if she chose that herself. She takes the crowd with statuesque pose. Eddie grin when she looks genuinely surprised that she got first place. She gets presented with a scroll of some kind, a basket of things Eddie couldn't see, and a voucher for the best suite in the building for the entire night.

The other women leave the stage as she's lead up to the chase that's decked out with an extravaganza of everything Greek. "Let's let our Aphrodite take her choice of Lover." Eddie's ear perks up when he catches that particular line. The woman's eye's find his immediately. Then she points and Eddie's got to drop his grapes to follow her up on stage. He feels hopeful when she

"Congratulations," he greets as she sets her things on a table. He sits himself on the end of the chaise lounger and watches her make herself comfortable.

"Ha, thanks, I just wanted to place higher than Danica."

"Who?" He asks.

"The red head. She's in my Latin class, she was bragging about winning last month's nurse contest and that she would win the Aphrodite contest. We argued, I said she should be authentic and she laughed at me for it. Besides, Lindsey said it was gonna be in the orgy room and I thought it was an excellent way to study something first hand that the Greeks actually did!.... And I really wanted to beat Danica."

"You want to study orgies, Clio?" Her ears perk up at that and she grins.

"I'm a history major, with a minor in Greek studies."

"Smart and beautiful is a dangerous combination," he offers. She snorts at that and snatches up a towel. "Towel?"

"I don't want to sit bareass on that couch," she replies casually as she shakes out the towel and drapes it right next to Eddie. "Did you get the hookah started?"

"Yeah, here." He offers her the pen, he feels confident enough to ask her a more risqué question. "So does that mean you're not wearing any underwear?" She glances at him as she straddles the chaise he'd chosen.

She hits the hookah with a grin. "Do you play a game?" Eddie realize she's correct very quickly as her skirt billows just slightly. Eddie finds himself laughing softly. There was an intimacy that came from this. Genuine. Any doubt in his mind that he wants to fuck her all night is far from his mind.

"I like games," he breathes. She was leading him like a horse. He was eating out of the palm of her hand eagerly.

"No lies. No names." He considers it out.

"Not even first names?" She draws another hit as he asks.

"No, for tonight only, let's act like lovers. Passionate and unhinged and we'll never see each other again. A perfect night for only us. No holding back. A genuine connection that ends in the morning." Eddie smiles and leans forward to hit the pen between them.

When he sits back, he blows sweet smoke across her.

"Anything for Aphrodite," Eddie affirms. She grins a dazzling smile at him and then eagerly leans closer. She captures his face, studying it with an open affection that makes his heart race in his chest. And then he takes initiative. Her mouth tastes sweet and coconuty. Thankfully, he'd had experience in this regard, when Kathy Higgins had made out with him to get free weed.

He liked when she gasped into his mouth under the full, eager kisses he was giving her. Her hands funnel into his hair. A groan shudders out of him without his control when she tugs it. He could kiss her for ages. The first taste of her already hardening his cock in his pants.

"Did you know the Greeks used olive oil as lube?" She manages to murmur against his mouth.

"And they wrestled naked with it, right?" He gasps back. He can feel her smile against his mouth her tongue flicking out against his open mouth.

"Mhmm." Eddie breaks away from her panting.

"Can I touch you?" Her cheeks are pinking in the same way his are. He sees how dilated her eyes are and decides that she likes what he's doing.

Her hands drop to his and the next thing he knows, his palms are filled with the soft and heavy mass of her breasts. Her nipples were hard, he could feel.

"Holy shit," he breathes out as he focus on one of his favorite parts of a woman's body. "I have to tell you something," he hums as she encourages him to squeeze.

"Yes, Lover?" She hums.

"Don't be surprise if my first round is quick," he rumbles.

"Been a while?" She hums playfully, diving in to mouth at his neck. He shudders under the heat of her mouth and the nipping of her teeth.

"I'm a virgin."

Eddie grunts as a hand snaps over his mouth. She glances around them. "Careful," she urges. "You say that and they'll swarm you." She pauses to regard him for a moment, a stern look on her face like she was trying to think too hard. "How experienced?" She whispers before peeling her hand back.

He shakes her head at him. "Kissing." He expression is still bewildered. "Are you okay with that?" Please be okay with that. Please be okay with that. Please be okay with that.

"Yeah. If I'm going to far... just say so."

"My safeword is bat."

"Bat?"

"Yeah, is there anything uncomfortable for you?"

"I'll let you know." He grins and leans up to kiss her jaw, his mouth is sloppy but she doesn't seem to mind. He experimentally drags his teeth over her neck and is rewarded with a fierce shiver.

"Defintely don't mind the teeth," she sighs out and he's chasing her as she leans back. Eddie follows her until she's pressed below him into the fabric.

"Can I eat your pussy?" He asks, feeling hopeful.

"Not yet," she hums. "Gotta work your way up to it."

"Patience."

"You said passion earlier," he taunts back, words muffled by her collar bone. But he used that to turn around and go back to her mouth.

"Don't push," she hums, "Pull me closer instead." A rising disappointment in his throat snaps into white hot arousal. She pulls him by Steve's shirt down on top of her and he can feel the heat of her cunt against his own arousal. He gives her a shaky sigh before grabbing a handful of her thigh and drives his hips into hers.

She gives him a low moan and his pride soars. He rocks back against her when she arches into him. In just a few moments there is a building between them.

His hands reach across her thighs, sprawling as widely as he could so he could feel as much as he could. His hand feels the curve of her ass as he sinks his fingers deep. He uses it as leverage as he ruts against her. Her mouth is eager against him. "Let me taste you," he groans. "Please."

She pants below him, eyes far away.

"You want to eat it that bad?"

"Yeah," he answers lamely. She rolls her eyes at him.

"Fine," she sighs. Eddie slides off part of the couch so he can kneel before her spread legs. He can smell her and is shocked by the deep arousal it rises in him. He always did have a gross fascination with pussy. He starts with kissing her thighs, that was always something girls cooed over in the PG-13 scenes that they loved so much.

It works though, he decides as she spreads wider for him.

First taste is fantastic. It's briney and filthy. The flavor fades on his tongue the more he laps at her, parting her lower lips to lave his tongue through the dewy residue she was creating. He sinks his tongue harshly into her cunt and she arches completely off the chase.

"You can use some of the food, too." She pants.

"Please touch my clit," she begs softly. His eyes snap to hers, unable to deny her. Especially when her voice was so tempting. "Show me," he groans. She sends him a desperate look and then slips her fingers down between her folds to do as she's told. He sees it, all red and inflamed. His mouth was on it before she could say anything. Then she's arching completely off the chaise.

Between her legs, his head shakes rapidly back and forth. She sucks a harsh breath in, he pushes her thighs further apart to lick as deeply into her as he can for a little more. She gasps when he sinks both of his thumbs into the hot little hole he had been so focused on. He parts her in hopes of tasting just a little more.

She's crying out under the changing assults he was testing against her. Loud whimpers when he discovered that he could push the hood back on her clit. He loved everything about this, he discovers. The taste, the smell, the feel and sight were all grounding him to this. She was getting loud as he slurped his mouth across hers. "Oh, baby," she cries out finally, in a hoarse whisper. "Oh, baby, please, just a... just a little more."

She was close. He paused only to gain leverage, hoisting her thighs higher and spreading her wide to drive firm licks to her clit directly. Hands jerk the hair at his scalp and he groans against her. She was rocking onto his tongue as he watched. He couldn't help it, her chest was heaving, breathing shallow and desperate. Little moans filtering into it. "Oh, fuck, please, please, I'm so close, please!"

His heart spasmed in his chest as she shot him a fierce look, one with big eyes and flushed cheeks. Lips parted. So while maintaining eye contact, he sucks hard. Her eyes lead the arch back, rolling into the back of her head as she arches off the chaise. She's so fucking loud it nearly hurts his ears, until she clamps her quaking thighs around them. His tongue finds where she's leaking, just so he can taste it again.

Until she pulls at his head, dragging his face out. "No- no more," she whimpers with glassy eyes and a wobbling lip.

"Just one more taste?" He pleads with her. She gives him the most pathetic look.

"Want... want to..." she glances between them at the bulge he's sporting.

"You want to fuck?" He questions. The smile she gives him is sinful as she nods.

"Do you want to fuck me?" She asks, he reaches up to cradle her face.

"More than I need air to breathe."

"Here or the room?" Eddie bites his lip.

"The room."

The room was nicer than he'd ever been in. There were toys that lined the walls but he could barely focus on anything other than keeping her mouth sealed against his.

Together they fall onto red sheets and he hikes her thigh up onto his as he grinds his cock into her. She's squirming below him, still sensitive from his attention downstairs.

"Pants," she grunts. He eagerly shucks them down, sighing in relief when he's no longer being crushed by denim. "Hey," she hums and he leans back to evaluate her. "Is it really your first time?"

"Yeah," he offers her and she bites her lip with a hesitation he's not sure he's reading right. "If you don't want to I under-"

"You don't have to use a condom, unless you want to." His brows raise and then he's just dragging Steve's shirt off him.

"You sure?"

"Mhmm, want you to feel it. Really feel it." Eddie groans as she grinds the wet folds of her cunt over his.

"Fuck, now?" She nods with a gentle smile and he slides his cock forward until it notches on something. Then there is resistance, just enough for him. "O-ooh, fuck. Fuck. Oh, fuck, you feel good." She whines as he splits her apart slowly. He sinks to the hilt with little effort. "You feel good. So good. Fucking Goddess."

She moans below him as he draws back, just to sink into the end of her. He's already close. He can feel it. Coming with a low groan and a stuttering of his hips. She holds him to her chest stroking over his hair. It's quiet for a moment, and then his hips begin sawing back into you slowly.

He's still so hard, dragging his cock through his own spend just to watch it spill out around him. You're so expressive, he can't help but study your face while he stares. Neither of you are blinking.

"You came a lot," you murmur through your eyelashes.

"I'm not done, yet," he replies. His hands grasp at your hips before he really starts to kick it up his pace.

"UH!" You cry out, "Shit, you're big! Oh shit! Oh fuck!"

"That's it! Louder," he orders. He watches you hook your hands behind your thighs and draw your knees up by your shoulders. His hands slide over your ass to take the place of yours, pinning you more effectively as he begins to snap his hips into yours, moaning at how tight it makes your cunt.

"My pussy's so wet! Oh God! Baby! Never stop! Oh please, oh please, oh pleaseeeee! Uhh!" He felt you tightening as the obscene noises fill the room.

"You gonna cum, princess?" Your eyes snap to his and he feels the fluttering of your cunt.

"Hard," you gasp out. "Fuck me hard, please! Wanna cum on your cock! Oh gooooooood!" You scream, a heavy sob shuttering out as you tighten impossibly around him. He can't hold out through it. Your moaning and trembling are enough to have him cumming. He groans as he watches more thick spend spill out around his cock, still imbedded deep in your pussy.

"Jesus," he breathes out. You let out a shakey laugh that shoves his cock from your cunt in the prettiest of ways. "Fuuuck."

"Got another fuck in you?" You whine with a neediness that has Eddie chuckling darkly.

"Oh, honey," he hums. "Give me five minutes and you'll regret asking that." He drops down to mouth at your neck. It's vicious.

"Wanna leave sore," you pant underneath his next assalt.

"I'm going to be insatiable for you, just you wait, baby."

#tys kinktober masterlist #kinktober 2022 #kinktober #day 11 #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie imagine #eddie #eddie munson #stranger things season 4 #hellfire stranger things #stranger things four #strangerthings #sex club

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 3 years ago

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Congrats to you! These prompts are fun:

“a kiss that isn't meant to happen but it does anyway” for Bateman please??

Part of Youvebeenlivingfictional’s 3K Follower Celebration When I tell you that this one got long and explicit Warnings: Cursing, explicit sexual content—kissing, fingering, mentions of oral sex; 18+ readers only

“I need to ask you a favor.” “I’m not giving you the number of my current therapist, Nathan. I like this one and you caused the last one to have a psychotic break.” “That was never proven.” “Alright, what do you want?” “Could I finger you?”

Nathan asks it as casually as he’d ask you to pass a napkin. You freeze, your fork in your hand as you blink owlishly at him. Nathan’s not even looking at you—he’s aggressively peppering his food. “...May I ask your purpose?” You manage, finally. “I need some notes on vaginal contraction during orgasm. Digital simulations only help so much.” “I see.”

“You’d be doing me a favor.” “Oh,” You scoff a laugh, leaning back in your seat, “Is that so?” Nathan glances up at you, brow furrowed a touch. “It is so," He insists. “Right. You can’t just fly to, I don’t know…Any major hub and get on Tinder?” “It’d be all over the internet within an hour and I don’t need that. Besides, I have to be able to take notes. If I open up an excel sheet after going down on someone, they might get offended.” “Mhm...So. Once, twice, what?” “At least twice. I might ask to get my mouth on you, too.” “For what, exactly?” “To catalog different responses to varying stimuli.” “...Right,” You mutter. “Look—” “No,” You raise your hand to stop him, “It’s okay, I know it’s um…I get that it’s work. Just…Can I think it over?” “Of course.” He pauses, then adds, “It’d be mutually beneficial.” You’re an inch from shoving some rice into your mouth when he says so. “What?” You ask. “You’re wound so damn tight, you know. An orgasm or two might help.” “...Well, thank you for that,” You mutter before shoving the rice into your mouth. “Anything to help a friend.” You meet Nathan’s eyes again and shake your head at the devious little smile on his lips. --

“Pull the excel sheet up.” “What?” Nathan asks distractedly, eyes still set on his screen. “I’m horny. Go wash your hands, I don't know where they've been,” You order as you pull off your shirt. Nathan freezes and turns to look at you. You just flop back onto his bed. “Hop to,” You add, lifting your hips and wriggling out of your sweatpants, “Or I’ll get through all the fun before you get back.” You can’t help but laugh as he springs out of his chair and runs out of the room. You’ve never seen Nathan Bateman move that fast in your life. --

Some part of you expects Nathan to muscle up to you with a pen and pad at his elbow. Instead, he kneels between your legs. “Relax,” He urges. “Mhm, because that’s what everyone wants to hear when they’re in bed with someone that they’re not familiar with.” “We��re familiar,” Nathan’s argument is murmured as he runs his hands up the insides of your thighs. Your stomach flips at the ease of the touch, and the curiosity that he watches you with. “Not like this,” You shake your head. He chuckles. “No, not like this.” He looks over your face before he slides up to lay down beside you. “Tell you what,” He says, leaning over to pick up the remote from his bedside table, “Let’s just watch something.” “Are you seriously Netflix-and-chilling me right now?” “No, we’re relaxing. I don’t wanna record the results under stress. Now, just,” He waves the remote at the tv before dropping it between your legs, “Pick something.” --

The two of you get halfway through the movie.

You find yourself talking and bickering the way you always do, and you hate to admit it to Nathan, but it does relax you. You find yourself sinking into the pillows, focused on the movie, the conversation. Now and again, you’ll remember that you’re laying in bed with Nathan, naked save for your bra and underwear. But when you glance at Nathan—when you expect him to make a comment about how hot someone in the movie is, he says nothing. At least, he keeps it to himself. But as a steamy scene starts—one that you didn’t realize was in the movie—you feel Nathan’s breath rush against your shoulder. You pull in a breath as he drops a kiss to your bare shoulder. You keep your eyes fastidiously set on the screen as Nathan inches closer. His hands skims warmly over your breasts, down your torso, gently shushing you as your muscles go a touch tense. Nathan slips his hand under the band of your underwear, and you find yourself biting down on your lip. “Is this alright?” “Mhm,” You nod hurriedly, “And if you tell me to relax again, I swear to god.” Nathan chuckles softly against your shoulder. His fingers smooth gently over your lips, parting them with his fore and ring fingers before circling your clit your clit with the pad of his middle finger. You feel your eyes slipping closed. Your stomach begins to swirl with a heady mix of arousal and anticipation. You swallow thickly as you find yourself chasing the touch. “Your um—” You hear yourself mumble. Nathan hesitates in his ministrations, slowing the pressure, waiting for your notes. But all you manage is, “Your fingers are really—big.” Nathan hums as he continues to tease his finger over your clit before trailing it a little lower. You can feel him smiling against your shoulder. “You’re wet,” He tells you. And you know—you know that you are, but hearing him say so makes your body flood with heat. You nod just a little bit. Nathan goes on, “Was it the movie?” “No.” “Were you thinking about what we were going to do?” “...Yes. And it’s been a while since I’ve—I mean…Since anyone else touched me, you know,” You mumble. You suck in a sharp breath as the pad of his finger teases at your opening. You wriggle down, trying to press into him. “Go on,” He urges. “What?” “Ask.” “For—For what?” “Well, among the search terms you’ve searched on—” “No. No no. If we’re going to do this and you wanna make me cum, you can’t bring up the intimate knowledge that you have of my—” You turn your head. You hesitate as your lips brush Nathan’s. “...Of my search history,” You mumble. Nathan’s eyes search your face, from your eyes to your lips and you want to damn him—you want to damn him for his calculations, but you know that his hand where it is because of his work. “Alright,” He murmurs, nudging his nose against yours. Somehow, it makes your stomach surge with more heat than anything else that he’s done thus far. “Good,” You mutter, “So don’t—Don’t make me ask.” “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do,” Nathan reassures, shaking his head a little before licking his lips. He’s close enough that his tongue brushes against your lips, too, and you feel your pussy clench around his fingertip. Nathan makes an interested little hum. “You gonna write that down?” You can’t help but snip, and Nathan laughs a little more openly. “You want me to get up and do that right now?” He asks, palm brushing against your clit. You groan, closing your eyes, unable to stand the way Nathan is looking at you. “Don’t you fucking dare, Bateman.” “You want me to stay here?” You want to mimic back to him—I won’t make you do anything that you don’t want to do—and it’s true, he isn’t. But you find yourself wanting to beg your boss to make you cum. The thought makes your pussy clench around his finger as he eases it the rest of the way in. “Shit,” You breathe as your hips jolt, “Is this the kind of—the kind of evidence that you needed?” “It’s a start,” Nathan murmurs, turning his head and nosing along your cheekbone, “I did say I wanted to do this a couple of times, maybe

get my mouth on you.” You whimper, eyes squeezing closed more tightly. “Please,” You mumble. “Hm?” “I—I want you to eat me out, please.” “I'm afraid I can’t do that right now.” “Why not?” You whine, pressing your hips down against his fingers. “Well, I need to measure your responses to varying stimuli. I’ll need at least one sample of your response while I’m fingering you, a separate one while I’m eating you out—we could combine the stimuli at a later date, of course…” As he’s laid out of his plans, he’s eased another finger into you, palming your clit with more pressure. You roll your hips more sharply into his hand. “Alright, goddamnit—Shut up, stop talking, stop talking,” You whine, bumping your shoulder against Nathan’s. In your effort to jostle him just a touch, your foreheads knock together, your lips skating across one another’s. You hesitate before you lean in just a little more, pressing a gentle kiss to Nathan’s lips. You’re certain that he’ll lean away, tell you to focus, but Nathan presses in, slipping his tongue into your panting mouth. You suck it as Nathan’s hand picks up speed. You can’t help falling apart the way you do, with the tremendous speed you do. You’re tightening up around his fingers and whining against Nathan’s lips before you can warn him. The two of you trade slow, steamy kisses as your body untenses and sinks into the pillows. Nathan gently eases his fingers out of you, resting his hand over your mound. You can feel the slide of his damp fingers smoothing over your lips as you relax, as your heart pounds in your chest, your breath pushing against Nathan’s lips as he draws away. When you finally find it in yourself to open your eyes, you expect Nathan to be watching you in that sharp, careful way. Instead, his eyes are as gentle as they are calculating. “...Good?” He asked gently. “Mhm.” He gives you another moment before he smooths his fingers over your slick lips again. “Shit,” You breathe, eyes rolling up to the ceiling. “How soon until you're comfortable enough to?” “I—I don’t know.” “How long’s it usually take you?” “I’ve never timed it.” Nathan glances at the clock on his bedside table as his fingers begin to swirl around your clit again. You watch, stunned, as a grin grows on his lips. “First time for everything,” He murmurs before he dips his head, lips pressing to yours.

#Nathan Bateman x Reader #Nathan Bateman x You #Nathan Bateman/Reader #Nathan Bateman/You #Nathan Bateman fic #Nathan Bateman imagine #asks #replies #anon #follower celebration #youvebeenlivingfictional 3k follower celebration #3k follower celebration

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michelleelizabethtanner · 2 years ago

Note

illicit affairs by taylor swift

'And that's the thing about illicit affairs And clandestine meetings and longing stares It's born from just one single glance'

'Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me You showed me colors You know I can't see with anyone else'

'Look at this idiotic fool that you made me You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else'

so brio.... "make sure nobody see you leave / hood over your head, keep your eyes down" .... "leave the perfume on the shelf / that you picked out just for him" .... their illicit affair both legally and romantically lol. conveying everything with glances and having an understanding about each other that they dont have with anyone else

I really need to get with the TaySwift program! She’s an excellent Brio mouthpiece. Probably because she processes her trauma and angst out loud and these emotions are so recognizable in the ways she chooses to write them. What I love most about this song is the imagery and how she uses it to evoke very complicated emotions.

Hood over your head, keep your eyes down

Tell your friends you're out for a run

You'll be flushed when you return

That has so many layers. Not just the image of someone covertly experiencing a forbidden kind of love, but also the shame behind it. Hiding the truth from the world, hiding the truth from yourself. Fucking secretly in a bar bathroom. Stealing a few short moments on a weekday afternoon, then stripping the sheets and washing them in bleach. They’ll be flushed when they return not just from the exertion, but also from shame. Ugh, I would love to see an edit of them to this song.

And you know damn well

For you, I would ruin myself

A million little times

Taylor is definitely a talented communicator and the more I learn from her fans about why they love her music the more I admire her art.

youtube

#brio music #good girls nbc #brio

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starryevermore · 3 years ago

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Peter Parker x reader (aged up obvs) but maybe avengers don’t know why he keeps sneaking off or that he has a partner so think he’s in danger and: “Why are there avengers in my bedroom” “shhh reader it’s a dream go back to sleep” “Peter wake up” “…hi everyone”

sneaky little spider ✧ peter parker

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

request: Peter Parker x reader (aged up obvs) but maybe avengers don’t know why he keeps sneaking off or that he has a partner so think he’s in danger and: “Why are there avengers in my bedroom” “shhh reader it’s a dream go back to sleep” “Peter wake up” “…hi everyone”

pairing: college age!peter parker x fem!reader

word count: 724

warnings?: au where no one forgets peter because the world doesn’t find out his secret identity, not proofread

Peter often thinks he’s sneakier than he really is. After all, no one knew who Spiderman was. And that was the biggest secret in his entire life! Hell, he was an Avenger—the only Avenger who still had a secret identity! If he could keep that a secret, surely he could keep anything a secret. And if he was capable of keeping secrets, crime fighting secrets at that, then surely he could qualify as sneaky.

Well, except, maybe he had one secret bigger than be the friendly neighbor Spiderman. You.

You weren’t exactly a secret, per se. Everyone who knew Peter Parker, only as Peter Parker, knew who you were. The two of you met at Empire State University in Introduction to Chemistry and you lent him a pen because he forgot on—a freaking TUL pen at that!! those are legendary pens; you don’t just lend one of those to someone!—and the rest was history.

But he made a point to keep his personal life completely separated from his superhero life. You knew of his secret identity, having found out after accidentally walking in on him shedding the suit after a late-night patrol when you came to stay the night at his apartment. But his fellow Avengers didn’t have the first clue who you were.

It was better that way. If the superhero world didn’t know about you, you couldn’t be hurt.

Of course, that meant that he had to lie to his fellow Avengers. A lot. There’s only so many times that he could use the “I need to do homework” and “I have to study for a quiz” before things got suspicious. Peter was an excellent student, of course, who took his studies incredibly seriously, but everyone on the team knew that, when push came to shove, he’d deal with his superhero-ing duties long before his academic responsibilities, and then figure out how to save his GPA in the aftermath of whatever disaster occurred. He knew the team was concerned, and he knew he’d have to ‘fess up eventually. But he wanted to live his life as it was for as long as he could.

He never expected, though, for the team to show up in the apartment he shared with you. He wasn’t even sure how they figured out where he lived. Though, if he had to guess, he supposed it had something to do with Stark tech and the uncharacteristic hug he’d received from Mr. Stark as he was leaving for the day.

Peter just wished he had been the one to see them first.

Instead—

“Peter, wake up,” you said, smacking his chest, trying to draw him out of sleep. Instead, he only groaned, pulling the sheets up over his head. “Peter, seriously. Why the fuck are there Avengers in our bedroom?”

“Shhh, it’s just a dream,” he mumbled, trying to pull you back under the covers. “Go back to sleep.”

“No, seriously, Peter, wake up,” you said, jostling him a little harder.

Finally, he opened his eyes, pulling the sheet down to confirm that you were just having a vivid dream when he was met face-to-face with his team. “Uh…hi everyone?” he said.

“We, uh, just wanted to make sure everything was alright, kid,” Steve said, looking everywhere but at Peter.

“For an Avenger, you’re terrible at sneaking around,” Natasha said. She glanced at you, then said, “For the record, I was against the whole breaking-and-entering thing.”

“It’s alright,” you said. “I suppose this is the best case scenario if I had to go through a break-in. I’m Y/N, by the way. Peter’s girlfriend.”

“Okay, okay, now we know why I’ve been sneaking around. Can you guys leave now?” Peter said, a slight whine in his voice. “I’ve got an eight am tomorrow.”

“Fine, fine,” Tony said, “but expect a long talk about this tomorrow, young man. I hope the two of you have been using protection—”

Bucky was already dragging Tony out the door, shouting, “Unfortunately, he’s serious about the talk.”

Peter groaned as the rest of the Avengers filed out of the room, mumbling, “I’m sorry. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.”

“It’s okay, my sneaky little spider. Now go back to sleep, okay? We can talk about it more in the morning.”

#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x female reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fic #peter parker fan fic #peter parker fan fiction #starrywrites #starryevermore

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kythed · 4 years ago

Text

“pillow talk” - a collection of conversations between you and matsukawa issei.

1. october 23rd, 1:03am.

“that was fun.” matsukawa props himself up on one elbow, lower half still covered by a disarray of blue dorm sheets.

you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling your t-shirt back on, but you turn to look at him, smiling slightly. “fun?”

“great. excellent. out of this world amazing,” he says teasingly. there’s a glint in his eye and a flush in his cheeks.

“that’s what I thought.” you make to stand up, but matsukawa grabs your wrist before you can move another muscle.

“you can stay,” he says, face strangely hopeful and childlike (a sharp contrast to the night’s earlier… activities). “if you want, I mean.”

your body aches to climb back under the covers with him, to press yourself against his hot skin and let yourself fall asleep in his embrace… but what you have with matsukawa is new and fragile, and you refuse to close your fist on something delicate and shatter it in the process.

“maybe next time. I have class in the morning.” advanced calculus, to be specific. hell on earth, to be even more specific.

“will there be a next time?” there it is again. that hope.

“if you’ll have me,” you say, rising from the mattress.

“I’ll do more than have you.” he grins, cocking his head. “I’ll take you.”

and there it is — matsukawa issei, ladies and gents. you smile to yourself as you slip out of his room, committing the feel of his hands gripping your hips and his lips on yours to memory.

2. october 27th, 4:36pm.

you stay this time. it’s a weeknight, and there’s class in the morning again, but the bed is warm and matsukawa’s arm fits like it was made for you. he’s nervous, you can tell, what with the way his fingers shake slightly as they brush the hair from your eyes — but that’s okay. it’s endearing. cute, even.

“hey,” he says, voice low and throaty.

“hi,” you respond, turning your face to look at him, his sharp, angular face shaded even more dramatic by moonlight. he really is a little too pretty for his own good, you decide, running a light hand down his torso. his mouth twitches when your fingers skim over his waistband and back up again.

“tease,” he sighs, and you laugh.

“it’s what I’m best at,” you say.

“among other things,” matsukawa concedes, grinning. you gasp and hit him lightly on the chest.

“you’re so dirty minded!” you scold, and he scoffs.

“I’m the dirty minded one? listen sweetheart, twenty minutes ago you were —”

you shut him up with a swift kiss on the lips, swallowing his indignant words as he chuckles somewhere in the back of his throat and pulls you on top of him. you slide your fingers into his mess of dark hair and smile into the kiss until he finally breaks away and begins dusting smaller kisses along your jaw and collarbone.

“you know,” you breathe, trying to avoid gasping when matsukawa presses his mouth to that soft spot right below your neck, “you’re acting awfully boyfriend today, issei. you’d better be careful before I up and decide to make you mine.”

“maybe that’s what I want you do to,” he says without looking at you.

you start in surprise, a small smile creeping onto your lips. “oh, really?”

matsukawa unattaches himself from your neck and takes your face in his hands, staring up at you with a grin. “really.”

“okay,” you say, and in response he squishes your cheeks and laughs. you roll your eyes and tug on his wrists until he lets go. “okay, boyfriend.”

“okay, girlfriend.”

you’d never anticipated a relationship to fall into place so easily. but then again, with matsukawa, everything — everything from his sweet talk to his skin to his stupid pickup lines — is pretty damn smooth.

3. january 1st, 11:24pm.

“you have a nice nose,” he says, running a finger down its bridge. golden afternoon light slices through the gaps in his shutters, casting odd stripes across his face.

“I hate my nose.” you bite back a sheepish smile. “it’s weird.”

“no, it’s cute,” he insists, and despite yourself, your heart swells. maybe it’s silly, maybe it’s shallow, but nothing really beats having someone refute your insecurities, however insignificant they may be. “I’m the one with a weird nose.”

you sit straight up, nearly knocking him back. “you do not have a weird nose. I love your nose!”

“I love your face.” matsukawa gently pulls you back down, gathering you into his chest so he can rest his chin on your shoulder.

“well, it is a pretty nice face,” you say, and he huffs.

“you were supposed to say you love my face, too,” he whines in a small voice. you almost giggle at the thought of this six foot two giant baby-talking to you.

“I thought that was self-explanatory,” you say. “I like everything about you.”

matsukawa shoots you a dramatic glare, furrowing his brows. “yesterday you said you didn’t like my t-shirt.”

“it was a rick and morty t-shirt! I was morally obligated to disparage your fashion taste in that moment,” you say piously.

“so you don’t like everything about me,” matsukawa sighs, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. “my girlfriend is a liar.”

“I like everything about you except for the fact that you like rick and morty,” you correct yourself.

“I like everything about you except for the fact that you don’t like rick and morty,” matsukawa shoots back, and you let out an ugly guffaw.

“alright, then. agree to disagree?”

before answering, he leans forward to give you a brief kiss that you return, enjoying the faint taste of spearmint on his lips. “you’ll come around eventually.”

“I really won’t.”

“you will.”

“I won’t.”

“you won’t.”

“I will,” you say, and then — “wait, no. damn it, issei, I can’t believe that worked on me.”

“gotcha!”

4. march 20th, 3:16am.

“dude,” matsukawa says. “we should go out for ramen.”

“did you just call me dude?” you raise an incredulous eyebrow.

“sorry,” he says, sitting upright and pulling on a shirt. “I meant babe. can we get ramen?”

“it’s 3am,” you say, catching the shirt he tosses to you and putting it on. “is there any place nearby that’s still open at this hour?”

matsukawa whisks you out of bed, bridal style, and spins you around, ignoring your protestations as you attempt to scold him between giggles. when he finally sets you down you’re dizzy, clinging to him for balance. “obviously you don’t understand the ramen business. when the craving hits, it hits, and these guys know that. that’s why there’s a 24 hour ramen-ya near every college campus in the country.”

“then,” you say, blinking hard as the room comes back into focus. “I say we go eat.”

“let zem eat ramen?” matsukawa says in a phony french accent. you want to roll your eyes but you can’t quite bring yourself to do so. he’s too damn charming about it.

“let zem eat ramen,” you repeat, and he laughs, rumpling your hair before grabbing his keys off the bedside table.

“you’re adorable.”

“I’m a legal adult,” you sigh. “why do you insist on calling me cute? I’m sexy.”

“you’re cute and sexy,” he agrees, opening the door for you. “the two are not mutually exclusive.”

“fancy words.”

“I’m just trying to impress you,” he says with an obnoxious wink.

5. april 4th, 1:58am.

“do you think there’s life in space?”

you’re lying side by side next to matsukawa, both staring up at his dorm room ceiling, where a handful of plastic stars glow in the dark.

he snickers. “you mean, like, martians? little green men with antennae?”

“sure,” you say, ignoring his jab. “or maybe enormous space whales swimming somewhere deep in the cosmos. galactic empires of cyborgs and robot servants. train stations that take you from star to star.”

“that reminds me,” he says. you feel him slip his fingers into your hand. “we should watch star wars together sometime.”

“you avoided the question,” you complain, and he laughs.

“sorry,” he says. “I’ve never given much thought to huge space whales or interplanetary train stations.”

“you’ve never wondered might be out there? never wanted to fly to the moon and see what there is to see?” the thought is alien (pun intended) to you. how could anyone look into the star speckled sky and see anything other than a mass of worlds waiting to be explored?

“I don’t need to. kinda have everything I could ever want here on earth already.” matsukawa shrugs, flashing you a grin. “good friends. perfect girlfriend. a really excellent ramen shop down the street.”

“and that’s all you need?”

“that’s all I need,” he agrees, and you stay silent, scooting closer to press yourself into matsukawa’s larger frame. maybe he has a point. you count over your blessings in your head: good friends, perfect boyfriend, a really excellent ramen shop down the street. even space whales can’t really compare, you decide, sneaking a glance at issei only to find he’s already looking down at you with a soft smile.

and maybe that’s enough. maybe it’s enough to have someone who loves you and your flaws, someone who lets you borrow his dumb graphic tees and never lets you pay for your own dinner. maybe what you have here with matsukawa issei, feet on the ground and hands intertwined, is enough.

#because i've recently been obsessed with One (1) mr. matsukawa issei #i'm pretty sure i used the i'll take you line before but you know what #screw it #it's smooth and i'll use it however many times i want #haikyuu #matsukawa #matsukawa issei #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei x reader #matsukawa headcanons #hqcorenet

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