Tumgik
#8. Bathroom hooks
tapronlimited · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
How to Choose a Bathroom Basin
The Tapron blog post "How to Choose a Bathroom Basin" offers a comprehensive guide on selecting the perfect basin for your bathroom, emphasizing the importance of material, shape, and design. It discusses various materials, including ceramics, metal, and glass, and explores shapes like round, oval, and corner basins. The guide advises on choosing basins based on individual style preferences, practicality, and the overall bathroom design, ensuring the basin complements the space both functionally and aesthetically. For detailed guidance, visit the full article here.
0 notes
juggalomary · 2 months
Text
ghost is a world renowned sniper, he has a level of patience that most can’t comprehend. he has sat or laid in positions that are a bit less then comfortable for hours. this does not pair well with the fact that he is subsequently aging (34 with he life experience of 70). his back kills him when he gets back from missions more often then not.
these aches don’t require any prescription or even warrant a medical visit. he just sleeps it off or toughs it out. occasionally he’ll take a hot shower if he’s been hunched for a long time. he managed for almost 20 years so it just became routine. well mostly.
soap caught him on a particularly bad day. he was laying on his side with his hips rotated down to take the pressure off his back when soap knocked. the fucker probably need to shower or something and got to used to the en suite. he knocked now as a warning to get unnaked fast (long story) then an actual ask to come in.
“ghost am i interrupting?” soap looked horrified, ghost realized it looked like he was jerking off.
“no, back hurts like a bloody cunt.” soap just hummed and walked into the bathroom. the shower went on and then a nondescript amount of time later turned off.
ghost had moved to laying fully on his stomach with a pillow on his lower back. something about the weight made the pain subside.
“whatcha got here then?” soap said snatching the pillow. ghost was normally pretty decent at not showing pain even if he’s in pain, but this was another level, like top 10 worst pain experiences in his life.
“give it back or i’ll kill you.” ghost grit out, he whipped around too fast.
“alright then, need me to rub your back?” soap asked, “no homo.” ghost considered, genuinely considered.
“no, but can you sit on it.”
why the fuck did he say that. he taught his dog how to do it a while back for his leave but soap, well soap was NOT his dog.
“sure uh, how?”
“sit on my back, my lower back.”
soap carefully climbed onto his bed, and then slowly sat onto ghosts back. the reaction was instant, his muscles all relaxed and the pain went from a 8 to like a 2.
this became a need after a while, a weighted pillow that randomly showed up didn’t do the same effect as a 200lb man.
he would go to soap ( and gaz’ ) room for some damn pain relief.
he was kicked out once when gaz walked in and though soap was getting absolutely fucked. never has he seen someone of that height throw anything that hard.
the picture that was taken the next time gaz walked in is definitely in some fraternization case file in prices desk, even though they do not hook up, and are not actually together.
241 notes · View notes
notjustjavierpena · 1 month
Text
50 NSFW-QUESTIONS FOR HUBBY!
Tumblr media
Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
Some time ago, I asked @rivnedell if I could use her 50 questions for everyone's favorite husband Javier. She was so sweet and encouraging, so I got right to them.
These are (funnily enough) +18, so beware and MDNI.
1. Biggest Turn-On?
When you show how much you want him because of how much you love him. He goes crazy when you take initiative to sex, play a little dirty and touch him up when it’s inappropriate because you just cannot help yourself. It’s nice to see that he isn’t the only one who is crazy about the other. 
2. Biggest Turn-off?
He doesn’t like for you to play stupid, girly or young. He is most turned on by your confidence, maturity and the fact that you’re a strong woman who gave birth to his children. Sure, he likes the occasional daddy/papí but only if you’re mommy/mamí.
3. Quickest way to get horny?
Whisper in his ear what you want to do to him or what you want him to do to you. He’ll walk around half-hard the rest of the day and then absolutely ravish you when he gets the chance. 
4. Top 3 places to be touched?
Face, neck and chest. He loves your gentle hands caressing him slowly until he is completely under your spell. He’ll never get enough attention, able to both get hot for you or fall soundly asleep. 
5. Does he like the idea of a threesome or a moresome?
Javier probably has had a threesome in his life but he likes giving all his attention to a single partner. After meeting you, he would never dream of needing a third party in the bedroom. 
6. Sex or Masturbation?
Sex. Javier likes the connection he has with another person. However, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like masturbating and letting his mind drift to what he’d like to do to you. 
7. Spit or Swallow?
He won’t lie. Swallow. Unless, of course, you make a show to drool with it, letting it drip down your chin. 
8. Rough or Romantic sex?
Why can’t rough sex be romantic? He’ll tell you he loves you while you’re arching your back and saying fucked-out nonsense because of how deeply he reaches inside of you. 
9. Loud or quiet partners?
Loud, holy shit. He wants to hear how good he is making you feel, wants to make you scream until there are noise complaints. 
10. How much foreplay?
He likes to wring out a few orgasms from you before you get down to business but with a house full of kids, he’ll take what he can get in the moments you have to yourselves. If you are alone, he loves getting you hot and bothered so you’re dripping wet and begging when he slides into your heat. 
11. How much teasing does he like?
Javier doesn’t like to tease you, is usually too impatient to do it, but he relishes in getting teased by you. Stolen glances, dirty whispers, bending over to show off what he cannot have yet. He’ll feel lightheaded, worked up like a dog who isn’t allowed his treat yet. 
12. Hook ups or only partners?
Hook ups are a thing of the past. Now it’s only you. 
13. How much kissing during sex?
If he can reach your mouth, he’ll kiss you breathless. Otherwise, he’ll have his mouth on your skin as much as possible. It’s his way of cherishing you, letting you know he just can’t get enough of every square inch of you.
14. Favorite place to have sex?
Javier actually really likes having sex in the kitchen or the bathroom because he can flip you around and shove you down onto the counters. However, some of the best sex he has had has been in a bed even if it’s less adventurous. 
15. Would he have sex in public?
To some extent. He likes the idea of getting caught but he wouldn’t actually have sex with you if there were others around. On an abandoned street, in a field, in a locked public bathroom is very much something but it would take something special to make him lose it where people could actually see. Like that one time in the taxi, remember?
16. Last place he had sex?
In your bedroom, doors locked and all the kids in their beds like usual. One hand over your mouth to keep you from waking up everyone and your brows furrowed as he slowly drove his cock in and out of you. 
17. Where would he most like to have sex?
On a child-free holiday. Non-stop and all over the hotel room.
18. Spontaneous sex or does he need to be in the mood?
There is not lots of spontaneous sex when you have kids but he tries to find moments during every day chores where he can take care of you quickly. He is never not in the mood for you; one wink and he’s ready to go. 
19. Would he go for a hookup at a stranger's house?
Sure. He’s done it a million times when he was young and single. 
20. Biggest kink?
Javier saw you and instantly, his breeding kink came out of its hiding. He won’t accept coming anywhere else but in the warmth of your ripe cunt. That and calling you any version of mom, e.g. pretty mamá, mommy, mamacita? He is done for. You’re the mother of his children and that is so fucking hot. Can we make one more, mamá? We can handle another baby… Please let me come inside.
21. Is he ok with name-calling?
No. He doesn’t like calling you vulgar things. 
22. Would he do BDSM?
He’d try something more extreme if you like but the harshest thing he’s done to you is give your throat a squeeze or two. 
23. Would he prefer to tie you up or be tied up?
There’s something in both things that he likes but being the one getting teased by you is his favorite. If he had to tie you up, it would be to keep your legs spread open for him so you can’t get away. 
24. Does he like orgasm denial?
He doesn’t use it as punishment or even just to be mean. Instead, he uses it to make you absolutely shatter when he finally lets you have it and you know this, know that he’d never leave you unsatisfied because you get a little cuckoo if you don’t orgasm. This goes both ways. 
25. Does he like overstimulation?
He doesn’t like it much on himself but if he has a chance to see you twitching and crying from being touched too much, he’ll take it. He knows how much you like it too. 
26. Does he like pain being involved?
He likes when you grab him, squeeze him, smack him, bite him but no more than that. He does, however, love spanking you. 
27. Does he like dirty talk?
Fuck yeah, the man has got a mouth on him. He likes whispering things in your ear or talking as he hovers above you, telling you how good you feel around his cock and how gorgeous you are as you moan and groan, right up until he lets you know you’re about to make him come.
28. Does he own sex toys? How many?
Javier owns a cockring but not much else. Do handcuffs count? 
29. What does he masturbate to?
Whatever floats around in his brain. Sometimes it’s just to release some tension and he’ll think of nothing. Other times, it’s because you have done something to get him worked up and he’ll imagine you with your hands or mouth wrapped around his cock. He will admit that he’s thought about stupid porn scenarios too. 
30. Multiple rounds or will he settle for one orgasm?
If you have time, he’ll send the kids off to his Pop’s and fuck you six ways till Sunday. Once is never enough and he’ll stock up on electrolyte-drinks and pre-workout protein bars to go all night and day.
31. Does he enjoy giving oral?
He could spend hours between your legs if he had the time. It’s his favorite way to get you soaked and ready for him. God, when your thighs twitch and your voice cracks as you gush all over his face, he knows heaven is a place on Earth.
32. Does he prefer giving or receiving oral?
He has no preference.
33. What makes him orgasm the fastest?
You begging for another baby whilst crying from your own orgasm. He can never hold back when he knows that you want him to finish, especially inside. 
34. Does he like/do anal/pegging?
Pegging? No. Anal? He’s allowed on special occasions.
35. Favorite position?
Anything where he gets to be close to you, his nose in your neck and feeling your groans vibrate underneath his lips as he molds you with his cock. Some intense missionary has him seeing stars but fuck, he loves lying down right behind you to cage you in the one arm that stretches across your tits.
36. Does he use protection?
Yes. In his youth, he did have condoms lying around. However, he used to have a lot of unprotected sex back in Colombia which he has been scolded for by you but he was often drunk, sad, angry or scatterbrained by the strain that was on him. Does he use protection with you? No, not really anymore. He’ll probably set money aside for a vasectomy when you’ve had the twins. 
37. Does he masturbate with clothes on?
Clothes or no clothes is not really a big deal for him. However, he mostly jerks off in the shower, so without? 
38. How does he prefer your hair/grooming?
However you want. 
39. What does he wear to bed?
Just his boxers. He’d like to wear nothing but it doesn’t work with kids jumping into bed on a Saturday morning. 
40. What does he like you to wear?
Javier doesn’t like to dictate but if he had to choose, he’d like you to wear something that accentuates your waist and ass. It makes him want to grab onto your hips. You in a sundress and he’ll bend you over the nearest surface to put a baby in you. In terms of wearing something to bed, he’ll go insane if he sees you in those cute little sleep shorts or panties and one of his own t-shirts. 
41. Does he like his balls played with?
Yes! You better have a hand cupping them as you suck him off. 
42. What is his sexuality?
Javier considers himself straight but there have been a few instances of too much alcohol, an eager guy and a messy hookup in his car. 
43. Does he have any extreme or unusual kinks?
I would not say anything extreme or unusual, no, but Javier does have an intense lactation kink and it makes him come so fast to see you drip with milk. Go on, let him have a sip. 
44. How often does he masturbate?
He’s okay with once in the shower. Just to take off some pressure in the morning.  
45. Favorite toy?
Javier cannot remember the last thing that impressed him as much as using the rose toy on you. 
46. Does he like roleplay?
To some extent but mostly, he just loves getting down and dirty with his wife.
47. Any fetishes?
Like I said: GIVE THAT MAN A GODDAMN SIP!!
48. Aftercare?
Obviously! He’ll get the warm flannel or carry you to the bathroom, kiss you for a long time and caress your used body. You okay, baby? Wasn’t too hard on you? 
49. Does he ever go commando?
Very rarely. It happened more often in his youth.
50. Phone sex?
He’s not going to say no to that but he isn’t much of a texter, so it better be a call so he can hear your tiny cries for him. 
.
.
If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️
283 notes · View notes
jamieontheroof · 5 months
Text
Random things I noticed while playing What Remains Of Edith Finch
There was a poster of the cannery that Lewis worked at on the boat.
Tumblr media
2. Edith Jr wears what appears to be an engagement on a necklace. Whether this is her ring or her mothers is not mentioned.
Tumblr media
3. At the start of the game, Milton's missing posters are EVERYWHERE. There is even a giant pile of them in a nearby lake.
4. The dragon slide that crushed and killed Sven is still outside.
5. As you walk toward the house, the music gets louder.
6. The swing that Calvin flew off decades ago is still looped around the branch.
7. There was a spare peep hole in the garage that didn't have any names or dates on it.
8. At multiple points throughout the game you can hear a train in the background, despite the fact that the train tracks are clearly destroyed.
9. There are multiple pots throughout the Finch house that looks like they have eyes.
10. One of the books the Finches possessed was 'King in Yellow', a book known for making anyone who read it insane.
Tumblr media
11. The house sounds alive, or like there are people constantly moving around it.
12. Walters bedroom is painted with both ocean and train designs. One of the paintings is the old house that Odin tried to bring to America.
Tumblr media
13. There are drag marks on the ground of Walters bedroom (most likely made when his drawers were taken out of his room.)
14. The entrance to the tunnels is hidden by a book called 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, a classic sci-fi story about a sea monster.
15. Molly's room is filled entirely with animal books.
16. There is a jelly fish on Molly's bed (possible connection to the monster??).
17. Molly has a chalkboard in her bedroom where she is a princess in an underwater castle and Sven is about to get attacked by a sea monster (slightly resembling the dragon slide).
Tumblr media
18. As shark!Molly starts falling down the cliff, she passes a road where headlights are briefly scene.
19. When the monster gets back to Molly's room, the window that cat!Molly jumped through is still open.
20. There are still Christmas decorations in Molly's room.
21. The curse is 500 years old. That is a lot of dead people.
22. In Odin's viewfinder, it states "His [Odin's] daughter, Edie, is already dreaming of new Finch house" showing that even though her own father died not even a week ago, Edie has already moved on.
23. The house is filled head to toe with books about death, including two that Odin wrote.
24. Sven's shrine does not have a log painting like the rest of the family. His portrait is painted on a simple canvas.
25. Edie has a number of strange tapes in her room including one titled "conspiracy now".
26. The toys from Gregory's final bath are still in the bathroom.
27. There is an old bottle of alcohol in the bathroom bin.
28. A lot of Sam's photos are based on Calvin (a swing, astronauts).
29. All of Milton's drawings are based on the death. (Molly = cat, Barbara = pumpkin)
30. There are cigarettes and gin on Sam's side of the room he shared with Calvin.
31. Calvin already had bruises, Band-Aids and a cast on his leg when he died.
32. Sam blames himself for challenging Calvin.
33. In the story, Calvin doesn't fall. He keeps flying.
34. Barbara's birthday cake is still in her room.
35. Barbara is holding crutches in her portrait.
36. There are totem-esc styles statues of both Calvin and Molly
Tumblr media Tumblr media
37. Barbara's outfit is over the railing.
Tumblr media
This is the same way the Hook-Man falls
Tumblr media
38. "Performance of her life" can also mean that it is the performance she is known for.
39. There are spare portrait logs in the basement.
40. There is a fake window in the basement.
41. Edie's grave is finished despite her dying and then nobody else going to the house.
42. There is no grave for Milton.
43. Lewis' grave has a crown on it.
44. There are times wear it seems like you can hear sobbing (this one may just be me).
45. There is a box of Kay's old stuff in Sam's bedroom.
46. Odin has a park named after him.
47. This isn't a fact but I think this may be one of the funniest photos of the game (LIKE SIR? YOUR DAUGHTER IS SOBBING!).
Tumblr media
48. Both Calvin and Dawn are on Sam's shrine.
49. Gus has a skateboard over his name.
50. Gregory has the soap bottle from his final bath in his shrine.
51. The music cuts out when Gregory isn't moving.
52. Same also blames himself for Gregory.
53. Gus never met his step mother.
54. Gus was crushed by the (totem) statues of his deceased relatives.
55. Dawn's light switch is the only one on
Tumblr media
56. Most of the rules are about past deaths. (No playing outside without permission : Calvin, No answering door for strangers : Barbara, No messes after dark : Molly (???)).
Tumblr media
57. Milton's garden has a castle (reference to the Unfinished Swan)
Tumblr media
58. There is a small Sanjay shrine in the classroom
Tumblr media
59. Edith JR did an assignment on her family history.
Tumblr media
60. Lewis drew on his desk.
Tumblr media
61. There is no death date for Milton on his peephole.
62. Edith JR wrote Milton's death date as 2003 (the year he disappeared).
63. The door from the flip book is in Milton's room.
Tumblr media
64. Lewis' dream Palace is decorated with fish.
65. The gnomes scattered around the house are outside the original house in Edie's story.
Tumblr media
66. The credits roll in reverse order.
AND THAT'S IT!! I had a few others I thought didn't need to go in.
345 notes · View notes
buckybarnesevents · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
WE'RE BACK! Hot Bucky Summer returns for its second year in a row with new prompts to get those spicy ideas going!
This event runs from June 1st, 2024 to August, 31, 2024. Each week starting June 1st, we’ve given you a theme (phrase) and some further prompts to spark your imagination. You do not have to strictly include the exact phrase or prompt words in your works - they are meant to encourage you and inspire your overall idea!
📢 RULES
Tag accordingly, please! General blog rules apply to this, please read before participating.
There is no minimum or maximum limit.
We will not be reblogging works outside of the assigned week (ex: if you fill a week 1 prompt but we are already in July, we will not be reglogging), however, these prompts are meant to inspire your muses and you can use them as you desire.
Your works do not have to be inherently M or E rated to participate, they are up to your interpretation.
There is no limit on how many works you create. Even if you only participate in one week, we encourage and welcome all participants!
📢 HOW TO SHARE YOUR WORKS:
Please mention us (@buckybarnesevents) and use the tag #hotbuckysummer2024 in your post for us to reblog your works!
We MUST be able to clearly identify what week/prompt you are using. Again, we will not be reblogging works outside of the assigned week. If we cannot easily tell what prompt you are using when tagged, we will not be reblogging.
You can also tag us again in your masterpost for us to reblog a summary of your works for this event.
⏩ Ao3 Collection: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HotBuckySummer2024
⏩ Discord: https://discord.gg/P5S3CjM6yU
⏩ Last year's works: https://buckybarnesevents.tumblr.com/eventarchive
For a word version (enabling copy and paste), please see below the cut.
Happy creating!
💙 HR
1 June 1st - June 7th | “Louder, let everyone hear you.” | [Screaming/Noisy Sex | Gangbang | Exhibiotionism]
2 June 8th - June 14th | “What should I call you?” | [Master | Alpha | Pet] 
3 June 15th - June 21st | “Really? Here?!” | [Someone Else’s House | Public Bathroom | Mile High Club]
4 June 22nd - June 28th | FREE WEEK | [Optional prompts: “A” - Anal Hook, Acarophilia,  Age Play]
5 June 29th - July 5th | “We’re…” | [Friends with Benefits | Exes | Enemies to Lovers]
6 July 6th - July 12th | “I won’t be able to stop myself.” | [Sex Pollen | Gone Feral | Fuck or Die] 
7 July 13th - July 19th | “Put this on for me.” | [Blindfolds | Cock Cage | Collars]
8 July 20th - July 26th |  “Maybe this'll help you relax” | [Hot Bath | Another Drink | Cockwarming]
9 July 27th - August 2nd | FREE WEEK | Optional Prompts: “W” - Wax Play, Watersports, WAM (Wet & Messy), Weapon Play]
10 August 3rd - August 9th | “Shhhhhhhhh…” | [Gagged | Voyeurism | Somnophilia]
11 August 10th - August 16th | “You look good like this.”| [Kneeling | Tied Down | Ruined]
12 August 17th - August 23rd | “What should I wear?” | [Lingerie | Chastity Belt | Nothing] 
13 August 24th - August 30th | FREE WEEK | [Optional Prompts: “M” - (Mutual) Masturbation, Masochism, Medical Play]
290 notes · View notes
Text
To be alone with you 8
Tumblr media
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, power imbalance, cheating, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your babysitting gig becomes complicated. (f!plus sized!reader)
Character: dilf!Clark Kent
Note: who predicted 2024 would be the year I converted to Cavill.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
Tumblr media
The blinds are drawn as you hug your pillow with one arm. Your body is stiff as you sleep with one leg hooked around your blankets, the bottom of one cheek exposed to the steady blow of AC. You shiver and roll onto your back, pulling the covers around you fully.
The night before is a vague shadow in your mind. You remember starting the movie but not much else. You’d been so tired after the break-in, you must’ve passed out almost immediately. You feel bad, hoping that Clark doesn’t take it to heart.
You push yourself up. Your head is thick and full with sleep. You haven't slept like this in forever. Your mouth is dry but tangy. You swallow the gritty morning and cough, turning to dangle your legs over the edge.
Your striped shorts are crooked and wrinkly and your tee shirt smells like sweat. Ugh. You're a mess. 
You stand and lumber around clumsily. You grab a change of clothes and try to stretch out the kinks as you cross the hall to the bathroom. You close the door and put your clothes on the counter, facing your reflection.
You look rough. You feel just as bad. You turn on the cold water and splash it over your face before you brush your teeth, scraping out the stale taste stuck to your tongue. You turn on the shower and undress, wincing as your thighs meet.
You must be close to your time of the month. You get a bit sensitive. It would explain your fatigue and the soreness. Great. 
You step into the glass booth and wash yourself. The warm water is soothing against your stiff muscles. God, you really hurt. You reach down to touch your folds, checking your fingers for blood.
PMS is a bitch. Not enough to bleed for a week, your body has to gaslight you into thinking you are already.
After, you pull on the fresh clothes but hardly feel more awake. Just sluggish and achy. Coffee. You don't live off it like your sister but you need it in that moment.
Thinking of, where is your sister? Not too unusual for her to he errant but it's been a few days.
As you come downstairs, you hear snoring rumbling through the first floor. You slow and tiptoe into the front room. You cautiously approach the couch and find Clark, arms crossed, sleeping on his side, cramped into the small space as he slumbers. The small throw stretched over his shoulders. 
Your stomach pits. You're certain he'd much rather be at home in his own bed. Your guilt keeps you from disturbing him.
You creep into the kitchen, making your movement muted and staggered. You flip the switch on the kettle and wait as it hums. You load the french press with grinds and teeter on your toes, dancing nervously around the tile. 
You pour the boiling water into the press and check the time on the stove. You give it time to brew and lean on the island, listlessly cupping your chin and tapping your cheek with your fingertips. As you blow out, you hear the floorboards and stand up to greet Clark as he enters. 
His hair is askew, eyes droopy, and the blanket still draped around his neck. You didn't realise before he hadn't been wearing a shirt. His pajamas hang low on his stomach, the dark hair across his chest and trailing down his stomach exposed shamelessly. You gulp and focus on his face. 
“Smells like coffee,” he grins crookedly, “morning.”
“Morning, uh, I hope I didn't wake you up,” you squeak.
“Not at all,” he waves you off, “you passed out so quick, I figured you'd be up and at em. Besides, Jonny’s an early riser.”
“Oh, okay,” you turn to press down the plunger on the press, “I'm sorry I zonked out so fast–”
There's less resistance than you expect and the coffee splashes up and overflows, splashing your hands as you recoil with a yipe. You try to shake it off but a particular spot on the back of your hand singes badly. Before you can think, Clark has your arm and angles you to the sink as he flips on the cold water.
He guides your hand under, crowding you as your arm shakes in pain. You hiss even as the water soothes. 
“Oh, I'm so clumsy,” you murmur.
“As long as you're okay,” he slowly lets you go, “you let me take care of this.”
He swipes up the dish towel and sops up the errant drops of coffee. He dries off the outside of the press and patiently pushes down the plunger. You turn off the water and use a fresh towel on your hands.
He faces you, “blistering?”
You look at your hand, “just tender.”
“You're lucky I'm here,” he chortles, “scare away all the bad men and take care of your burns.”
“Ha, yeah, I–”
“Mm, something smells like cherry blossoms,” he interrupts, sniffing the air, his blue eyes narrowing on you, “is that you?”
“Um, yeah,” you catch a wafting scent from your body, “that's my body soap. Oh no, is it setting you off?”
“Not at all,” he smiles, “I was more worried about you.”
“Ah, no, it's fine. The soap doesn't trigger me surprisingly.”
“Hm,” he leans on the counter, gripping the edge as you notice how his stomach muscles clench, “I bought Lois some cherry blossom soap once. She never used it. Guess it isn't her scent.”
“Not for everyone I guess,” you turn and open a cupboard, taking down two mugs.
“Mm, yeah,” he agrees dully, “well, I should call your dad over my coffee,” he pushes himself straight and nears, stopping right beside you as you pour into the cups, “maybe after we can go get breakfast. My treat.”
“Oh, you don't have to–”
“I want to. Kinda weird not having Jonny around, looking fir a distraction,” he accepts a mug as you slide it over to him.
“Makes sense,” you say, “well, who am I to deny a free meal?”
🏡
After searching your coffee cup for an ounce of strength, you give in to the persistent glaze in your eyes. Maybe eating will help. Clark's offer is generous, almost too generous, yet your stomach clenches at the thought of food.
You grab your purse and head down to find Clark. He's in the kitchen, rinsing his mug, your own forgotten on your night stand. He dries it and puts it away as you wait for him to notice you.
“Did you talk to my dad?” You ask.
“Yeah, actually, couldn't get through. They must be on the road. Service gets spotty, right?” He hangs the dish towel neatly, “so you ready? I gotta stop by my place and change but then we can eat.”
“Sure, uh, well, you know, if it's too much…”
“Not at all, I'm excited. There's this place I've been meaning to try for a while but Lois hasn't felt like it,” he says, “tried calling her too. Think she's still mad at me.”
“Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Kent.”
“Clark,” he corrects you, “you make me feel so old.”
“Sorry,” you apologize again.
“It's fine,” he shrugs, “we should get going. I'm starving.”
“Not gonna lie, me too.”
“Must've been all the salty snacks last night,” he kids.
🏡
After you stop at the Kents', you set off for breakfast. The more you think about it the hungrier you are. You grow restless as you watch several options pass by, holding your tongue as Clark keeps driving.
You're surprised as he passes the city limits and you shift in your seat, craning to watch the sign pass. He clears his throat and turns down the radio, "almost there. Guess I shoulda mentioned it's all the way out here."
"Nah, it's fine," you shrug, "just curious."
"Really cute place, locally owned," he explains, "I prefer to give my money to an honest family business, you know?"
"Totally get it," you say coolly.
He taps his fingers on the wheel, as if he's restless or even agitated. He pulls into a gravel lot off the country road and you look up at the painted side. You passed this place with your parents a few times but never pulled over. It's a quaint brunch restaurant in a cottage-style house.
"Oh, this place," you chuckle.
"You been here?" He asks.
"No, but I've seen it."
"Right," he intones and clicks free his seat belt.
You free yourself of your own seat belt and climb out as he mirrors you. You let him take the lead and follow him to the front door. He holds it open and you enter ahead of him. You're greeted inside by an elderly lady.
"Good morning, may I show you to a table?" She offers.
You nod as Clark gives a vocal response over your head. She leads you to a table for two. You notice the place isn't very busy. There's an older man in the corner drinking coffee over a newspaper but no one else.
You sit as she introduces herself as Lena and promises menus. She shuffles away as you look at Clark who seems enamoured with the place. He admires the painting of flowers not far from your table and the lacy curtains around the front windows. It's cute but a bit outdated.
"There ya go, honies," she lays two menus on the table, her knobby hands shaking, "would you like coffee or tea?"
"Coffee, please, and..." he looks at you.
"Green tea, please."
"Coffee and green," she repeats, "lovely."
She hobbles away and you shift awkwardly in your seat. She must be the only waitress. In a place like this, you're not surprised. You just hope the food is decent, not that you can be picky.
"This place is nice," he muses, "peaceful."
"Yeah, it's interesting," you say as you pick up the menu. 
"I'm glad you got some sleep," he takes his own menu and browses it lazily, "glad I could be there to keep an eye out. Protect you."
"Ah, well, yeah, I don't think they guy would come back anyway but it did help," you give a small smile and settle on eggs benedict.
"Great," he puffs out his chest just a little. 
You peek up at him. It must be a good distraction for him. With Lois and Jonny gone, he needs something to keep him busy. You can humour him.
"Here ya go, sweets," Lena returns with a mug off coffee and a teacup on a saucer. She places both shakily and stands as straight as she can to ask if you've decided on what you want.
Clark lets you order first and you speak loudly and slowly to the woman as she cups her ear. She repeats it back to you before listening aptly to Clark. When she's done, she gives a soft clap and goes back behind the counter. She scribbles on a piece of paper and puts it in the window.
You glance over at the window, distracting yourself with the blowing grass. Somehow out here, you don't feel the same tickle in your sinuses. You sit back and cross your arms, watching the lazy blue sky.
"Oh, it's so romantic, a nice breakfast for two," Lena startles you as she appears again. She places a candlestick in the middle of the table then puts a wax taper in it. You can only stare and share look with Clark as she lights it, "you are so darling together. Is it a special occasion?"
"Uh," you bite your lip and look at Clark.
"Just breakfast," he answers as he throws his hands up, "spur of the moment, you know?"
"That's precious," she squeals, "you are such a beautiful pair."
"Thanks," Clark says and you just smile awkwardly.
She winks and leaves once more. You watch her cross the restaurant and sit with the old man and his newspaper. He lowers it as she whispers to him. You turn back and face Clark, leaning forward.
"I think she thinks we're together," you keep your voice quiet, "like a couple."
"Eh yeah, I didn't want it to be awkward," he shrugs, "no harm in it, really."
Your mouth slants as you consider his response. You guess he's right. What will it hurt? She's just a lonely old woman.
"What?" He tilts his head.
"Nothing," you answer.
"Really? I mean, I could correct her if it's a big deal--"
"It's not, really," you lean forward and cross your arms over the table, "just funny, I guess. Second time it's happened."
"It is?" He furrows his thick brows.
"Yeah, the ice cream guy..." you trail off, "whatever. Just... I'm kinda young but maybe don't look it."
"It's flattering, really," he insists, "people really think I could be with someone like you."
"Well, I mean, Lois is gorgeous," you laugh, "so..."
"Lucky man, surrounded by beautiful women," he grins.
“Oh, uh, thanks,” you sit back awkwardly, not expecting the compliment. You're nothing like Lois, love handles excluded, you still couldn't compare. You're just the babysitter. “Thanks, that's… you don't have to say that.”
“Well, you are,” he rubs his neck bashfully.
“Ha, yeah, well…” you clasp your hands in your lap and look again out the window.
As you watch the horizon over the dusty road, your heart roils in the tension. There's something nipping at your mind, just on the edge of your memory but you just can't grasp it. Is he just being nice or is there something more behind his compliments?
Don't be silly, he doesn't see you like that. He couldn't.
266 notes · View notes
dandelions-143 · 12 days
Text
Do It For Me
Final Part
Tumblr media
Parts 1 - 3 here : Chans Masterlist
All other members : Masterlist
Pairing: possessive bad boy, non idol Chan x Bratty fem!reader
Warnings: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, Explicit sexual content, Strong language, Themes of possessiveness and control in relationships, Public sex
Word count: 2,396
A/N: This will be the last installment in Chans story. I wasn’t going to write another one but I felt like I needed a pretty happy entering without making it super fluffy because you all know that’s not my style. Currently working on a playlist for this series so stay tuned! Also if you have already read this just ignore!! Adding all saved tags to all of my works. If you wish to no longer be tagged just let me know.
You sank into Chan's plush leather sofa, your hands resting on your thighs and your bare feet crossed at the ankle. Your eyes narrowed slightly as you gazed across the room. Chan sat just a few feet away, his dark eyes fixed on you like a predator eyeing its prey.
It had been a couple of days since Chan had whisked you away from the bar to his family home. Initially, you resisted his every move. You ignored or scoffed at his gentle touches and sweet gestures of affection. The only thing you welcomed was the rough sex.
Gradually, however, you began to warm up to his tender side—a side that seemingly only you got to witness. You stopped flinching when he pulled you close for an embrace. You started reciprocating his quick, spontaneous kisses.
You no longer mocked his affectionate gestures when he offered to cook for you, give you a foot rub, or simply lay with you to read or watch a movie. Slowly, you began to anticipate these moments, and before you realized it, you were opening up to him in ways you'd never done with anyone before.
"Come on, it's just a date. We've been hooking up on and off for years. Let me take you out," Chan said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he looked at you. You rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance, even as the prospect of a proper date with Chan made your pulse quicken. You didn't usually like feeling this way—you'd convinced yourself you weren't built for romance or relationships—but Chan was steadily dismantling the walls you'd built.
After much hesitation, you finally answered, "Fine, I'll go on one date with you, but you have to let me go back to Hyunjin's place to get ready properly. I'm tired of being cooped up in this mansion. I'm not your prisoner, Chan." His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching slightly. You could see the internal struggle playing out across his features. Finally, he exhaled deeply, his shoulders relaxing. "Alright," he conceded, "but I'm picking you up at 8, and if you're not ready or you try to slip away... I'll find you, and you won't leave my sight ever again."
Chan's possessiveness was overwhelming at this point, and it pained you to lack your own independence. Yet, you had no intentions of leaving him—you just didn't want him to know that. You nodded simply and stood up. "I should probably get going then. I need time to get ready." Chan licked his full lips and rose as well. "I'll have a car take you over."
Tumblr media
Two hours later, you were gazing into Hyunjin's bathroom mirror, putting the finishing touches on your makeup. Your deep blue dress hugged your curves perfectly, accentuating your figure in all the right places. The neckline plunged just low enough to be alluring without being too revealing. You applied a final swipe of deep red lipstick, the color complementing the dress beautifully. As you stepped back to admire your reflection, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness for your date with Chan.
As soon as those feelings began to rise, you shook your head, pushing them away. "What the fuck... get ahold of yourself, Y/n." Just as you were walking out of Hyunjin's bedroom, his front door opened and in stepped a very tired-looking Hyunjin. "Wow, you actually do come home," you said as his eyes met yours. A soft smile spread over his lips. "I'm only here to grab some things. I'm going back to my other place."
You walked over to him, knowing how sad and lonely your best friend had been feeling since his breakup with his ex. Even though you agreed he had been a very bad boyfriend, you couldn't help but feel sympathy for him. He was close to your heart, and you didn't like seeing him suffer. You embraced him in a gentle hug. "Are you okay?" you asked as you squeezed him a little, then pulled back to peer up at him.
Hyunjin gave you a weak smile, his eyes reflecting a mix of exhaustion and gratitude. "I'm... managing," he replied softly, his voice barely above a whisper. You could feel the weight of his emotions in those two simple words. Before you could respond, the sound of a car horn outside caught your attention, reminding you of your impending date with Chan.
You nodded, "You know I'm still your best friend and I'm here for you. Even if you just want to complain, I'll listen." Hyunjin was the only one who got to see your softer side. "Yeah, I know, Y/n." Hyunjin glanced out of his big bay windows, seeing Chan emerge from his car and begin walking up the sidewalk. "Are you and Chan finally expressing your love for one another?" he asked, surprised as he finally took in your dressed-up appearance.
You sighed heavily and shrugged, "I'm just indulging him." Hyunjin laughed softly and shook his head at you. "You know... we all see it. You love the guy, and it's clear he's obsessed and in love with you. He has been for years." You started to turn away to grab your small handbag. "Hyunjin..." you began, not wanting to hear this.
"Y/n, take it from me, who took advantage of someone that loved me unconditionally... you don't want to give that up." He looked down, trying to hold back the tears stinging his eyes. "Once you damage that and they give up on you... there's no going back. Nothing's ever the same." There was a soft knock on the door. "Let the guy love you... you deserve that."
You swallowed hard, letting his words sink in as you turned to face the door. Your heart raced, a mix of anticipation and nervousness coursing through you. Hyunjin's words echoed in your mind, challenging your carefully constructed walls. As you reached for the doorknob, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the evening ahead.
When you swung open the door, Chan stood there in all black. His suit fit him perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders and trim waist. His dark hair was styled neatly, and his eyes sparkled with anticipation as they took in your appearance. A soft smile played on his lips as he extended his hand towards you, his voice low and warm as he said, "You look absolutely stunning, Y/n. Are you ready?" His question seemed to hold more than just the simple meaning.
You took a glance back at Hyunjin, who nodded encouragingly at you. You gave him a soft smile and turned back to Chan. "Yeah, I think I am." You took his hand and walked out of the apartment with him. As you stepped out into the cool evening air, Chan's hand warm in yours, you felt a flutter of nervousness in your chest. The city lights twinkled around you, casting a soft glow on the sidewalk. Chan led you towards his car, a sleek black vehicle that matched his attire perfectly, and you couldn't help but wonder what the night had in store for you both.
Tumblr media
The restaurant Chan chose was an elegant Korean establishment with a modern twist. Soft lighting and minimalist decor created an intimate atmosphere, perfect for your first official date. As you and Chan were led to your table, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbled up inside you. The aroma of sizzling bulgogi and freshly steamed rice filled the air, making your mouth water.
You couldn't help but notice the place was completely empty, save for the staff. As you settled into your seat, you glanced at Chan, looking more than handsome in the dim lighting. "What did you do? Rent out the place?" you joked. Chan's lips curved into a mischievous smile, his eyes twinkling. "Maybe I did," he replied, his voice low and playful. A flutter in your chest surprised you at the thought of him going to such lengths for your date. You realized this evening might be more special than you'd initially anticipated.
The waiter arrived with Korean wine and asked if you were ready for your first course. You raised an eyebrow at Chan. "So you've had this all planned out?" Chan simply nodded to the waiter, who disappeared to fetch your meals, leaving your question unanswered.
As you sipped your wine, curiosity and appreciation for Chan's efforts washed over you. The intimate setting and carefully planned menu spoke of a thoughtfulness you weren't quite used to. You found yourself softening, your usual defenses lowering as you gazed at Chan across the table. His dark eyes met yours, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to imagine what it might be like to truly let him in.
Chan leaned forward, his elbows on the table, his dark eyes intense. He took a deep breath before speaking, his voice low and earnest. "Y/n, I know you've been guarding your heart for so long. But I want you to know that I'm here, ready to love you completely. I've been waiting for years, hoping you'd let me in. I'm not asking for everything all at once, but I want you to give us a real chance. Let me show you how much you mean to me, how much I care." You leaned forward, parting your lips to speak, but Chan cut you off, "And please don't turn this into me acting like a pussy because I'm weak for loving you."
You couldn't help but chuckle softly at his words, feeling a mix of amusement and warmth spread through your chest. Chan's vulnerability, his willingness to lay his heart bare before you, was both touching and terrifying. You found yourself at a crossroads, torn between the safety of your carefully constructed walls and the allure of the love Chan was offering. As you gazed into his eyes, you realized that maybe, just maybe, it was time to take a leap of faith.
When you didn't say anything right away, Chan continued, his face hardening slightly as the possessive man you knew pushed through. "And regardless of whether you want to be here or be with me... you're still mine. You always have been. You can't escape me. I don't need you to love me, but... I do need you with me."
A mix of emotions washed over you at Chan's words—a blend of frustration at his possessiveness, but also a strange comfort in his unwavering devotion. You took a deep breath, trying to sort through the conflicting feelings. Part of you wanted to push back against his claim, assert your independence, but another part recognized the truth in his words—there was an undeniable connection between you two that had persisted for years.
You leaned back in your chair as the food arrived. Waiting for the waiter to leave, you began eating before answering Chan. You couldn't help but test his patience. While you enjoyed riling him up, you were also growing fond of his sweet, vulnerable side. "Y/n..." he said under his breath, a warning for you to respond.
You took another bite, savoring the flavors as you considered your words. Finally, you met Chan's intense gaze, your voice soft but firm. "Chan, I can't deny our connection. But love... it's complicated. I'm not promising anything, but I'm here, aren't I? Let's see where this goes."
Your nonchalant response caused Chan's steely glare to falter. He seemed taken aback, having endured years of your rejection. Your words made him question if he'd been wasting his time waiting for and chasing you. Chan's expression softened, a mix of surprise and hope flickering across his features. He reached across the table, his fingers gently brushing yours. "That's all I'm asking for, Y/n," he said softly, his voice filled with genuine emotion. "A chance to show you what we could be."
As the evening progressed, you found yourself relaxing more, genuinely enjoying Chan's company. The conversation flowed easily, punctuated by shared laughter and lingering glances. For the first time in years, you allowed yourself to imagine a future where you weren't constantly pushing Chan away. As dessert arrived—a decadent chocolate creation that made your eyes light up—you realized that maybe, just maybe, giving Chan a chance wouldn't be so bad after all.
As the night wore on, you noticed a heat in Chan's eyes as he watched you eat your dessert. "What are you thinking about?" you asked when you caught him staring at your lips as they moved around the spoon. A sly smirk painted his plump lips. "I'm imagining how that red lipstick would look smeared around my cock."
You felt a sudden heat rise to your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and arousal coursing through your body. Chan's boldness never failed to catch you off guard, even after all this time. You leaned forward, your voice dropping to a husky whisper, "Maybe you'll get to find out later."
Chan shook his head. "There's no later... I want to see it now." Your eyes glanced around the room and then over to the now-quiet kitchen. "You mean here? Where people can see?" Chan's eyes darkened with desire, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "That's exactly what I mean," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "The thrill of getting caught only adds to the excitement, don't you think?"
You licked the remaining chocolate from your lips as Chan motioned for you to come closer. "Come here... I want you on your knees." Even though Chan had been confessing his love, the man knew what he wanted and always took it. You were his, and you would do as you were told... for the most part.
A thrill of excitement coursed through you at Chan's commanding tone. Without hesitation, you rose from your seat, the silk of your dress rustling softly as you moved around the table. Your heart raced as you approached Chan, fully aware of the risk of being caught but unable to resist the magnetic pull between you. As you sank to your knees before him, your eyes locked with his, silently acknowledging the power he held over you in that moment.
You could feel wetness nearly pooling in your panties as his warm hand caressed your cheek and slid over your jaw. His thumb swiped gently across your lips, smearing your deep red lipstick slightly. "So fucking beautiful," he breathed. Chan's eyes darkened with desire as he gazed down at you, his fingers trailing along your jawline. You shivered under his touch, anticipation building within you. Without a word, his hands moved to his belt, the soft clink of metal echoing in the quiet restaurant.
You had watched Chan do this many times, but after allowing him to tear down the walls you'd had up for years, it was as if you were seeing him with new eyes. The heat in the pit of your stomach intensified as you watched him slowly unzip his pants. Anticipation built with each passing second, your breath catching in your throat as you waited for him to reveal himself. You marveled at how different this felt—the same act, but with a new depth of emotion behind it.
Chan spread his thighs wider, the visible bulge in his pants drawing your gaze. You moved closer, your hands sliding up his muscular thighs. "Pull it out," he mumbled. You hesitated, hearing slight movement in the kitchen. "Eyes on me. I'm the only one here with you." He lifted your chin with a finger planted beneath your jaw.
Your eyes rose to meet his glare, filled not only with desire but with a softness you could only discern as love.
Your heart raced as you reached forward, your fingers gently brushing against the fabric of his pants before carefully freeing his hardened length. The sight of him, fully aroused and waiting for you, sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You licked your lips unconsciously, your gaze flickering between his intense eyes and his throbbing cock, ready to pleasure him in this thrilling, semi-public setting.
With a soft exhale, you leaned forward, your lips parting as you took him into your mouth. The taste of him, familiar yet somehow new, filled your senses as you began to move. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, savoring the feeling of him against your tongue, before opening again to meet his intense gaze.
Chan's fingers tangled in your hair, guiding your movements as you worked your mouth along his length. The low groan that escaped his lips sent a shiver down your spine, encouraging you to take him deeper. You could feel his thighs tensing beneath your hands, a clear sign of his growing pleasure.
As you continued your ministrations, you could feel Chan's control slipping. His grip on your hair tightened, his hips beginning to buck slightly against your mouth. The thrill of pleasuring him in such a public place only added to your own arousal, your core aching with need. You redoubled your efforts, determined to bring him to the edge of ecstasy.
Chan's breathing grew ragged, his muscles tensing as he approached his climax. You could feel him throbbing against your tongue, his grip on your hair tightening almost painfully. Just as you felt his cock tightening and twitching between your parted lips, he pulled you up. His chest heaved as he glanced down at his cock, covered in your saliva. Your lipstick smeared all around the base of his shaft.
"Not yet," he said gruffly as he stood, bringing you to your feet with him. "I want to feel you wrapped so tight around me."
Chan's hands roamed your body, his touch igniting a fire within you. He spun you around, pressing you against the table as his lips found your neck. You gasped, feeling the hard length of him against your backside, your body trembling with anticipation. The thrill of potentially being caught only heightened your arousal, making you ache for more.
His hands lifted the hem of your dress, exposing your panty-clad ass. He yanked them down, letting them fall to your ankles. Chan gripped your ass in his hands. "You drive me insane," he growled.
You moaned softly as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your behind, your body responding eagerly to his touch. The cool air of the restaurant against your exposed skin sent a shiver down your spine, heightening your arousal. Chan's breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, "I've waited so long for this moment, to have you fully surrender to me."
And you were fully surrendering. In that moment, he could have all of you—your body, your mind, your heart. You realized how much you wanted this, wanted him, wanted his love. Chan spun you around, pulling you over to push you against the wall.
His strong hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against him as his lips crashed onto yours in a passionate kiss. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his desire for you evident in every touch. As he pressed you against the wall, his hips grinding against yours, you knew that this moment would change everything between you and Chan forever.
Chan's hands roamed your body, his touch both possessive and tender. You arched into him, your body responding to his every caress. As his lips found yours again, you surrendered completely to the passion between you. "Please... fuck me, Chan," you could barely speak as you tugged at his shirt, pulling it up to slide your hands against his heated skin, feeling the muscles in his back move beneath his smooth skin.
Chan's eyes locked with yours, dark with desire and something deeper—a vulnerability you'd never seen before. Without breaking eye contact, he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. You could feel the hard length of him pressing against your core, the thin fabric of your dress the only barrier between you. "I'm going to make you mine," he growled, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine.
With a swift motion, Chan aligned himself with your entrance, teasing you with the tip of his length. You gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he slowly pushed inside, stretching and filling you completely. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and pain that made you cry out softly. Chan stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size, his forehead resting against yours as he whispered, "You feel so perfect, so tight around me."
As he began to move, you clung to him, your bodies moving in perfect synchronization. The risk of being caught only heightened your pleasure, every thrust sending waves of ecstasy through your body. You bit your lip to stifle your moans, your nails digging into Chan's back as he drove deeper, his pace increasing with each passing moment.
The combination of pleasure and the thrill of potentially being caught was intoxicating. Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, the heat between you building to an unbearable intensity. You could feel yourself approaching the edge, your muscles tensing as Chan's thrusts became more urgent, driving you both towards an explosive climax.
As the tension built to a fever pitch, you felt yourself teetering on the brink of ecstasy. Chan's movements became more frantic, his grip on your hips tightening as he drove into you with renewed vigor. The world around you faded away, leaving only the sensation of your bodies intertwined and the impending release that threatened to consume you both.
Just as you were about to cum, you tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled his head up away from your neck. You wanted to watch him cum inside you, to see just how good you made him feel. Chan's eyes locked with yours, his pupils dilated with desire as he neared his climax. You watched in awe as his face contorted with pleasure, his mouth falling open in a silent moan. The intensity of his gaze, filled with raw passion and vulnerability, pushed you over the edge, and you felt your own orgasm crash over you in waves of ecstasy.
Chan held you close as you both came down from your shared high, your bodies still trembling with aftershocks. As your breathing steadied, he gently lowered you to your feet, his hands caressing your sides tenderly. You looked up at him, seeing a mix of satisfaction and adoration in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat.
"You don't have to say it back, but I love you." His Australian accent was even thicker as he came down from his high. You felt your heart racing, the words echoing in your mind. The intensity of the moment, the vulnerability in Chan's eyes, and the raw emotion in his voice overwhelmed you. Before you could second-guess yourself, you heard your own voice, barely above a whisper, "I love you too, Chan." The words felt right, natural, as if they had been waiting to be spoken all along.
Just as Chan's mouth fell open slightly at the words you had always refused to say to anyone, a crash of dishes came from behind him. You both looked over to see the waiter standing there with wide eyes and a mess of broken dishes on the floor.
Chan's face flushed a deep red, a mix of embarrassment and lingering desire evident in his expression. You couldn't help but stifle a giggle, the absurdity of the situation hitting you all at once. With a sheepish grin, Chan quickly adjusted his clothing and turned to address the stunned waiter, his voice a mix of authority and amusement as he said, "I believe we're ready for the check now."
Taglist:
@cashtonsbetch @katsukis1wife @hyunjinhoexxx @ihrtlino @breezy-simp @vixensss @yaorzu-blog @tirena1 @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @chuuyaobsessed @doohnut @babigriin @iovecb97 @kpflyn @rylea08 @sheerfreesia007 @tsunderelino @cookiesandcreammy @rockstarkkami @moonchild9350 @syedazarintasnim @myflowercloud @143hyunes @luvyblossom @shecheatedwithme @antisocialties @akaligogrrr @thisaintredwine @rose-w-00-d @jisuperboard @velvetmoonlight @kayleefriedchicken @skzfelixlove
111 notes · View notes
tapronlimited · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
Genius Tips when Looking To Upgrade Your Plumbing
The "Genius Tips when Looking to Upgrade Your Plumbing" article on Tapron.co.uk offers valuable advice for homeowners considering plumbing upgrades. It emphasizes investing in energy-efficient water heaters, maintaining pipes in good condition, and choosing water-efficient fixtures to save on long-term costs and increase home value. The guide also suggests considering the use of recycled water and ensuring compliance with building codes for vent installation. For detailed insights and tips on upgrading your plumbing effectively, visit the full guide here.
0 notes
roadkillremi · 11 months
Text
A better man
Negan X F!Reader
Tumblr media
Era - S10/11
Summary: After being stuck in a cabin with Negan, things got hot and heavy. Is there regret or enjoyment?
Warnings : Minors DNI, Legal Age Gap (Negan is in his 50s, Reader is in their 30s) , mentions Reader's and her ex's having bad fights (mentions leaving a bruise), unprotected sex, language, p in V, the pet name Doll, mentions rubbing poison ivy on hickey, the whole smut is a flashback of "yesterday night".
A/N : My first Negan fic <3. Also a couple of side notes ; Reader calls Negan Carl's and Ricks killer, I know this isn't true. It is more of the way she viewed him during S7/8. There's no use of 'Y/N', Negan refers to the reader as "Doll". Italics are used for past quotes
There were no words once you went inside the house. Your brain scrabbled with the thought of him. Your backpack slid off your shoulders leaving a thud on the ground. It laid by the entrance next to some abandoned shoes.
"You're back!" Judith and RJ ran towards you giving you a hug. You smile kneeling down to their level.
"Sorry it took me so long..." You wrapped your arms around them. You heard a creak behind you, you turned around to find Michonne. She stood in the doorway looking down at you.
"I said To be as quick as possible." She muttered. Your chest wrenches with guilt, "We were surrounded.". Michonne nodded and stepped closer, she took a good look at you.
"What the hell is that?" She pointed at your neck. You quickly reached your hand to the spot she pointed.
"What?"
"That better not be what I think it is.." she walked away. Her kids followed behind her like little ducks. You quickly went into the bathroom moving your neck around.
There it was.
A cherry red spot on your neck, your heart rate quickened. You said no hickeys, you shut your eyes hoping you're imagining things. Flashes of last night just flood your vision.
His hands roamed your body, touching you so gently. It was a mistake, you didn't mean for things to build up. You were surrounded by dead sacks of shit. It grew colder and less safe for you two to head back. You two barricaded the windows and locked the doors. He placed his crowbar by the door and sat on the couch kicking his feet up on the coffee table.
After all these years I barely know shit about you, sweetheart.
That's what led the two of you to share stories. Stories you wouldn't dare share with anyone else. He knew about your shitty ex boyfriends, the shameful hook ups. The terrible fights you'd have with said shitty ex boyfriends that ended in bruises.
If they were still alive I'd beat the shit of them
In return, he told you all about Lucille and her death. Teary eyed he stared down at you waiting for a response. You weren't sure how to react, so you hugged him. You whispered sweet nothing's into his ear.
I bet she loved you so much.
Then you two kissed in a fit of passion. Your senses are overruled by the longing of a man's touch. Undressing each other as quickly as possible. He laid you down on the old couch, his lips exploring every curve. You patted his shoulder signalling for him to stop. He looked up at you his lips pink with saliva coating them.
Before we continue we need ground rules... Don't release your fucking seed in me. Don't leave marks. Got it?
Fuck yeah, doll.
Just like that he was on top of you, his forehead on yours. He looked into your eyes watching you whimper and moan. His smug smile didn't leave his face once, he chuckled to himself before speaking.
God, this pussy is so Fucking good! No man should teach you like shit..
You pulled him down by the nape of his neck. His lips smash into yours as his beard tickles your chin. He leaned down leaving kisses all around your neck. His teeth teasingly digging into your skin, him leaving the hickey...
He made sure you finished first, holding himself back until your release coated his cock. He pulled out of you before he could spill his seed. You reached in between the two of your bodies. Your hand pumped his shaft helping him chase his orgasm. He thrusted into your hand his head tilting back. You placed kisses on his collarbone and traveled down to his tattoo. His come falling onto your torso, he groaned.
Shit, Doll... Lemme clean you up.
He grabbed his t-shirt whipping your torso off. He tossed it back into the ground before laying on top of you. His head rested on your chest as one of his hands rubbed up and down your thigh.
You buried your face into your hands. You can't do this, Think about Rick, Glenn, Carl, Abraham. They saved you, you were their family, and you slept with their killer. You focused on your racing heart, he's a changed man. You had to get rid of the hickey before anyone else sees it.
You stormed out the house grabbing your ax on the way out. You head towards the gate, your heart echoing into your ears. Negan noticed you stomping towards the gate, he got up from the steps he was sitting at. He followed you with curiosity plan on his face.
"Where are you off to? We just got back." He grinned. You didn't look at him, "To find poison ivy.". He's taken back by your response, " 'cuse me?". You sigh moving any hair in the way to show your neck.
"You got sloppy last night. Will someone open this damn Gate?!" You fussed. A man rushed towards the gate opening it for you.
"Whoa whoa, doll. Slow down you're gonna rub poison ivy on yourself?!" He grabbed your shoulders getting Infront of you. He leaned down to your height, the greyness in his hair shining in your eyes.
"Yes.. I told you not to leave marks." You start walking out the gate pushing into his shoulder. He follows you back out the gate, "Back in my day girls used makeup." He tries to lighten up your mood. You sigh, "Negan.. I told you I can't.. no one can know.".
"What happened to you saying I was a better man?" He leaned on his leg a hint of hurt in his voice. You looked down, a bit ashamed of yourself.
"You are.." you whispered. He walked towards you, "I get it, I'm not a fan favorite out here. But Doll, talk to me.".
"You hurt my family. And me sleeping with you is... Like betraying them" you mumbled. He sighs, "I... I don't regret it. Hell, it was probably the best sex I've ever had... But.." you lose your voice. You look out into the overgrown neighborhood.
"I'll keep it a secret." He speaks up. You turned towards him with hope in your eyes.
"But, don't ignore me. I wanna see that pretty face of yours often." He gently grabs your chin lifting it up. You look into his hazel eyes feeling your heart flutter.
The same eyes that cherished the sight of your body. You leaned into his touch, "Alright. But help me find poison ivy-" you smiled.
"Yes ma'am." He grinned walking into the woods with you. His hand went to the small of your back as the ground became rougher. You smiled to yourself thinking of the night before, this time willingly.
976 notes · View notes
hellfirenacht · 4 months
Text
Wing Man 13
Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.
Chapter Summary: You remember.
6.5 Words
(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
March, 1977
You hated the sweater that your grandma had picked out for you to wear on the night of the Hawkins Middle School Talent Show. It was slightly too small for you and you couldn’t comfortably raise your arms without your midriff accidentally showing, the material was itchy and the tag was poking at the back of your neck which made you scratch the skin there which only made the problem worse, and you know that when you stepped out onto the stage the lights would make you feel unbearably hot. 
What you hated slightly less was the poem that you were supposed to recite. You didn’t really have anything against The Owl and the Pussy Cat, but it wasn’t exactly your first choice for the show. Actually, you had about 8 more ideas for your forced performance that had all been shot down by your teachers or parents. 
Being forced to be in the talent show wasn’t the worst thing in the world. You really did normally like being on stage if it was by your own choice and you got to choose what to do. Now, here you were in 8th grade, getting ready to be on stage because of some stupid rule that said that all students must participate in the talent show once in their 3 years. 
You didn’t have a talent in 6th grade, and in 7th you ended up getting the flu which had kept you in bed for a week. Now for 8th grade you had been cornered and forced to recite a poem that put you to sleep and was sure to give every bored parent an excuse to take a bathroom break. 
There were way more interesting performances than you, and you’d rather trade with almost anyone. The girls from the cheer squad always did an original routine despite using the same three cheers at every sports game, there were the Tyson brothers who did their traditional “Who’s On First?” stand-up that killed every year, a few kids playing piano or singing some random song, and one girl doing what you assumed to be some sort of martial art demonstration. The talent here was only marginally better than the ones you had sat through in elementary school. 
Okay, there was one performance that you were looking forward to seeing. Dougie, the guy who sat next to you in English, had been going on for weeks how he was in a band now and that they were making their debut at the talent show that year. He excitedly rambled to you about how they were going to play a Judas Priest song and it was gonna be awesome. 
You had never talked to Dougie before then, but you had made eye contact with him once when he was talking about the talent show and that meant that you were now going to listen to him every time he wanted to talk about his band. Having a full live band at this show sounded a lot more interesting than most public school acts, and the idea that they were going to get away with playing a song that was not school board approved sounded awesome. 
The irony of it all was that about three minutes before the show started he admitted that they had all practiced together a grand total of twice beforehand. 
Dougie was currently jumping up and down in an awkward rhythm from foot to foot, clinging to his bass like it was his last lifeline. When you tried to talk to him, he only responded with a line from the song they were going to sing, having forgotten the rest of the English language in an attempt to make sure he remembered the words to the song. It made you feel a little better, because you could at least recite your poem in your sleep. 
You leaned against a wall and looked up towards the catwalk above the stage. There were two kids up there, and you were pretty sure that they really weren’t supposed to be. One was a girl in a ponytail, wearing a sparkly outfit that matched the group of cheerleaders in the hall, and one was a boy with a buzzcut wearing ripped jeans and a dark t-shirt. Quite the opposite pair. 
You watched them for a moment, unable to hear a word they were saying but they both kept looking out at the crowd. When the five minute warning came, they each scrambled back down to the floor and Buzzcut Kid made his way to Dougie and the girl went out to join the rest of her squad. 
Maybe this would be more enjoyable if you also had friends to do this with. The few friends that you did have had either done their stint in the years before or had decided to do something completely different than you. 
Your only saving grace was that you were up second, right after some 7th grader sang along to the latest pop song that hit the charts about a month ago. This meant that you at least got it over with, and could spend the rest of the show alone and unbothered to watch everyone else. 
That was the plan at least. Unfortunately for you, you had completely overlooked one crucial thing about your fellow peers. 
They were fucking mean.
You really hadn’t thought much about the poem you were going to recite, it was just supposed to be a very quick poem that no one would remember. You had actually learned the poem a very long time ago when you were a kid, so you never made the connection that part of the poem could be taken... incorrectly. 
When your name was called, you stepped onto the center stage, shoulders back and head up straight. You were going to say your poem from the diaphragm, make your parents and grandma happy, and then get off stage. It would take less than two minutes and then you were home free. 
The second you started talking about how the Owl and the Pussy Cat went to sea in their pea green boat was when you started to hear the giggles from backstage. And when the Owl started to sing on their guitar, that’s when you realized your fatal mistake. 
"O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
         You are,
         You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!"
Oh. 
Oh no. 
The giggles from backstage grew louder and you felt your face heating up from more than just the horrible sweater. You could barely focus on the last two verses, where the Owl buys a ring off a Pigs’ nose to marry the Pussy Cat, you could only finish the poem in a deadpan voice before walking off stage as quickly as possible without even waiting for the first applause to start. 
Backstage, everyone was giggling every time they looked at you. Whispers of ‘O pussy, my love!’ and ‘O lovely pussy!’ and (less creatively) ‘pussy lover’ followed you as you made your way out into the hall, trying not to cry. 
They would all call you “pussy poem girl” until you skipped town and left Indiana forever, you just knew it.
You slipped into the bathroom, had yourself a small bout of embarrassed frustration tears, and then stomped your way to the art room. Ms. Teedee, the art teacher, was infamous for forgetting to lock her door which meant that it was easy to sneak in and make your way over to the large box of construction paper and get to work. 
It started out as just a way to calm down after the horrible embarrassment you just faced, but then it became a plan to hopefully soften the blow. 
It took you about a half hour to make, roughly, a million paper flowers from the various sheets of construction paper, which you then shoved into a discarded cardboard box next to Ms. Teedee’s desk. With a final deep breath you made your way back to the gymnasium where the cheerleaders were now doing their dance. 
When they all filed off stage, you stood there with your box of fake flowers and handed each of them one with a “Congratulations!” and “You guys were amazing out there!”.
Maybe if you were nice enough now, they’d drop the Pussy Fiasco and leave you alone. 
While the next act went on, you retroactively passed out paper flowers to the students who had already been on. Everyone stage right was waiting to go on while stage left was for those who already went. The plan seemed to work well enough, and you found the sooner you shoved a flower in someone’s face, the less likely they were to make a crack about your poem. 
At least until Monday when the snickers would follow you for the rest of the school year, and partially into high school by a few asshats who had nothing better to do. 
When you finally had a moment to catch your breath and take a moment to watch the talent show, there was a cacophony of noise coming from the stage. Drums, guitar, base, cracked vocals, were blasting from the speakers, making most of the parents in the audience wince. 
You skirted around to the side of the stage, just out of sight from the audience to see what was going on. Dougie’s act was up and they were... loud. Loud was definitely the right word to use. You couldn’t see Dougie well, he was on the far side of the stage away from you, and a girl with a drum set was behind him. She was banging away on the drums in a way that reminded you of Animal from The Muppets with how much energy she was putting into it. You were expecting her to hit the drum so hard that the stick would go flying. 
Speaking of flying...
The guitarist was the one who captured your attention the most. Under the spotlights you could forget that he was just an awkward 8th grader like you, he looked like... almost like he was flying. That didn’t make much sense because he was standing in place, but it was the only metaphor you could think of that made sense at the time. His vocals were rough, but the passion in his voice was clear. Most students were half-assing their performances out of obligation because they were forced to but not him. Buzzcut Kid played like he needed to, as if his life depended on it. 
The sting of the guitar and the thrumming of the drums drowned out any snickering from the students that had been following you for the past forty minutes. For the next three, you were absolutely enthralled by the kids on stage. So much so that when they all filed off you completely blanked on handing out flowers, your ears still ringing from the act. 
“That was great!” you had managed to spit out to Dougie, who gave you a quick thanks before turning back to the rest of the band, the three talking excitedly about their very first performance. 
Dougie’s band was the second to last performance, followed by a grand finale of a kid playing a medley of old tv show themes on piano. You remembered to give that kid a flower at least. Afterwards, you were all ushered on stage for a bow, your hands felt clammy as you gripped the hand of one of the Tyson brothers, not wanting to look at the audience at all. 
With the show over, everyone filed out into the main area of the school. Kids reunited with their parents and siblings to talk about the show and give congratulations. You saw a few of your flowers already being dumped in the nearby trash can, which stung a little. You sighed and clung to the remaining flowers in your small cardboard box and realized that you never did hand them over to Dougie and his friends. 
Ignoring the fact that your parents were looking for you, you pushed through the sea of people and found Dougie, handing him a flower quickly before moving on before he could say anything else to you. The girl drummer was easy to find next, as she was at the edge of the crowd with an old woman who you assumed was her grandma. You handed her a flower too, with a stuttered “You were so good!” before disappearing again into the crowd. 
There was only one flower left to give out, and you were shaking slightly at the idea of approaching the guitarist. You didn’t know why; shy was never a word that your friends and teachers would use to describe you. But this guy was just so cool and he played guitar in a band! Okay, so Dougie was also in the band but that was different! This guy had played in a way that put air into your lungs and made you forget the disaster of your own performance. You wished that your family had brought their clunky camcorder to tape the show so that you’d never forget it. 
You spotted Buzzcut Kid standing with an older man as they headed out the door of the school, and you panicked for a second. You shifted from one foot to the other quickly as you tried to make a decision. If you didn’t give him a flower then- then- then he wouldn’t have a flower! Then he’d be the only one without a flower and then what? What if he made fun of you for your poem? What if you gave him a flower and he decided to ignore your horrible social blunder? What if he did that anyway when you approached him? What if no one else was going to tell him that he had the coolest act in the show?!
It was that last thought that had you barreling through the crowd towards the door, clinging to your box tightly. You definitely shoulder checked some people on accident as you pushed your way out of the school and started walking quickly to the kid. 
“W-wait up!” you said, nearly stumbling over your feet as you caught up to the kid and the old man he was with. The kid stopped and looked at you, as if confused as to why you were speaking to him. 
Under the lamps hanging outside of the school, you were met with the prettiest brown eyes you had ever seen and your heart thrummed in your chest. 
“Hi...?” the kid said, his brows furrowed in confusion as he looked at you. His voice snapped you out of it. 
“I really liked your act it was really cool and it’s cool that you got away with playing that song without someone pulling the plug or canceling the show!” You blabbed, not stopping for breath or punctuation. 
The kid froze for a second, and then looked a little bashful giving you a crooked smile. You noticed a slight chip on one of his front teeth. 
“We got yelled at pretty bad backstage for it.” the kid said, looking almost proud of himself for it. 
The man who was with Buzzcut Kid placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll meet you at the truck.” he said, walking off and leaving the two of you alone. 
“It was still really good!” you insisted. “It was my favorite part of the show!” 
Had it not been past sunset you might have noticed the way his ears burned from the compliment. 
“Thanks.” he said, shifting slightly. “Uh, which act was yours again...?”
“Nothing interesting!” you said, a bit louder and higher pitched than you meant to, secretly relieved that he hadn’t heard your embarrassing poem. “Oh uh, this is for you!”
You reached your hand into your box of flowers and pulled out the nicest looking one left, a dark blue one that matched his t-shirt. He took it, his hand barely brushing against yours as he did, and he stared at it for a moment. The way he was looking so intently made your stomach turn and you suddenly felt very stupid for rushing after this guy who had no idea who you were just to give him a paper flower that was just going to end up in the trash can later. 
“I gave one to everyone” you started blabbing again. “‘Cause you know not everyone gets flowers after a show but everyone did a really good job so I thought I could let everyone know that they did so that’s why I made them also what song was that that you guys played?” 
It was a lie. Why were you lying? Were you so desperate to not look like a total loser in front of this guy that you’d just lie about the real reason why you made the flowers?
Well, you were in middle school. So, yeah, you were. 
“The song was ‘Prowler’ by Judas Priest.” the kid said, “It was the easiest one we could learn at the last second.” 
You knew that. Right, you did know that, Dougie only mentioned it every single day for the past two weeks. You felt so stupid asking that question, but at least Buzzcut Kid didn’t know that you knew. 
“You guys were really good.” you repeated, not sure what else to say. You were rambling now, and Buzzcut Kid probably thought you were a total dweeb. “I hope you guys keep playing and you’re really good at guitar and I’ve never heard anyone play electric guitar live except for one time when I went to the Indiana State Fair in fourth grade.”
You needed to shut up, you were really running your mouth for no reason and just talking at this poor guy who was just trying to go home. 
“I’ve been playing since I was a kid.” Buzzcut Kid said, and he was still giving you a look. His eyes were so round. “My dad taught me what he knew and I just picked up the rest from there.” He was holding the fake flower carefully, running his finger along the edge of one of the petals. You hoped he didn’t get a paper cut from doing that. 
“That’s so cool.” you said, your voice a little bit slower now as you tried desperately to hold your tongue. 
“Thanks.” he said again, and you immediately ran out of things to say. Of course, later you realized you could have probably kept the conversation going by asking for his name, or offering yours, but there are many downsides to being in middle school and piss-poor social skills is one of them. 
“Okay well you were good and I gotta go, bye!” you said and quickly booked it back to the school, your heart pounding and your cheeks flushed from more than just the horrible sweater. You didn’t even look back at the kid that you had just left standing there with your paper flower. 
You didn’t talk to him again after that. For a small school it was really easy to miss people. Your schedules never lined up, you never saw him in the hallways except for maybe one or two glances before or after school. Dougie never talked to you again, and by the next semester you’d been moved to a different schedule anyway. By the time Spring came around, you barely remembered the kid who you’d gushed to, and when high school came around he was just a distant memory of a night that you really tried not to think about. 
Tumblr media
The only evidence of that night lay now in your lap. The Hawkins Middle School yearbook from when you both were in eighth grade had a full color spread of the talent show. The Tyson brothers and the cheerleaders got solo pictures of their acts as well as a small collage of every kid that played the piano. 
But there, in the bottom of the second page, was a larger group photo of every kid that had been in the show that night, the picture taken thirty minutes before the curtain. You were stationed on the second row, on the far right and there on the top row was Buzzcut Kid, the girl drummer (who Eddie had explained was his friend Ronnie), and Dougie. 
No wonder you didn’t recognize Eddie or his band before. Besides Eddie, the whole line up of the band had completely changed since their middle school debut. There was no way you would have placed the tall and lanky kid with the buzzcut as the guy who you’d been seeing for the past few weeks. 
When you had been looking at Eddie’s pictures in your own copies of the yearbook, you had been only looking at high school. It hadn’t occurred to you to try and dig further than that. 
“So this is what you’ve been so cryptic about.” you said finally, looking between the flower and the yearbook. 
“I didn’t think it was a big deal you didn’t remember me.” He shrugged, falling onto his back on the bed next to you. “I wouldn’t remember me either.” 
“Eddie, I was obsessed with you for like, a month after this.” you admitted, staring at him hard. “You were the only good part of that night. I stopped thinking about that night when I didn’t see you again. ”
“You were obsessed with me?” He lifted his head and looked at you with a shit-eating grin. “Stalker.”
You grabbed a flimsy pillow from beside you and smacked him in the face. “Says the guy keeping count of how many times we met!”
“The second time was when you got in trouble with Higgins for skipping class- hey!” Eddie lifted his arms as you whacked him with the pillow over and over. 
“Why-” Smack! “didn’t-” Smack! “you-” Smack! “tell-” Smack! “me-” Smack! “this-” Smack! “earlier?!” 
Eddie grabbed the pillow out of your hands and smacked you back. “Didn’t think it was important.”
“Not important?!” you gaped at him. “Edward Munson, I’m going to use that pillow to suffocate you. I’m so embarrassed now. I remember you as this super cool guy who made me feel better and I was just some random kid who was always crying- oof!”
Eddie smacked you with the pillow a bit harder than intended, but it didn’t matter with how much you two were laughing. 
“You think I’m super cool? Aww, I’m flattered. Maybe I will give you a few autographs to sell, seeing as how you’re my biggest fan.” He teased. 
“I take it back, I take it all back! You suck, and are super lame and not cool at all.” you grabbed the second pillow, slightly less flimsy than the one he was holding and smacked him again. 
“Sweetheart, you’re hurting my heart here.” He held his hand on his chest and gripped his shirt dramatically. “You were the first girl to ever come up to me and tell me you liked my playing, and now you’re taking it all back? I’m wounded.”
“I was?” There was no way that was right.
“Okay, you were the second. Ronnie might count as the first, but all she did was say ‘Fine, I guess we’re good enough we could try and start a band.’”
“And now you’re good enough to possibly get a record deal.” you said, smiling at him. 
“I’ll be sure to thank you when I get my first Grammy.” 
You leaned against the wall that his bed was cornered into and sighed. “I can’t believe you were Buzzcut Kid and that nice guy who stopped me from having a meltdown in the Principal’s office.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t recognize you until halfway through the night at the arcade.” Eddie offered. “I just saw Harrington with a pretty girl and assumed you were more like him.” 
“Steve and I are more of an ‘opposites attract’ pair. I didn’t think I’d end up friends with him, but he’s surprisingly fun to hang out with.” you picked up the flower again, noting how worn it looked. Wait, was that your phone number scribbled on it? “What tipped you off?”
“Air hockey.” Eddie said. “It was when you decided that we should pit freshmen against each other that I remembered Chris telling me once about a girl wanting to join Hellfire. He had made you out to be some sort of stuck-up who wasn’t actually interested and was just asking to fuck with us.”
“Fuck Chris Morrison.” you said, bitterly. 
“Fuck Chris Morrison.” Eddie agreed. “So when we were in the middle of making Wheeler and Henderson fight for our own entertainment, that’s when I recognized you. At the Hideout that’s when I was sure.”
“How did you figure?”
Eddie leaned in close with that same shit-eating grin from earlier. “Because you looked at me the exact same way you did the night at the talent show when we played.” 
“Oh, shit.” You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh of embarrassment. “I’ve never had a good poker face. Do I even want to know how I looked at you?”
“Only like I’m the coolest guy you’ve ever seen in your life.” He said with a nonchalant shrug, but his eyes still had that glint that made you want to smack him with a pillow again. 
“I’m mad, but only because I know you’re right. You, Eddie, are actually the coolest person in Hawkins and also the biggest nerd I’ve ever met.” You crossed your arms and nudged him with your knee. 
“I find that hard to believe, since you’ve met Henderson.” Eddie nudged you back with his knee and you didn’t miss the way he shifted closer to you. “Kid’s probably the smartest person I know. Don’t tell him I said that.” 
“I’m telling him.” you said instantly, giving your own shit-eating grin. “I am forever in Dustin’s debt. He can rent any movie that’s not porn from Family Video as long as I’m on shift and he gets first dibs on any almost expired candy. There’s no way I’m not gonna tell him when someone says something nice about him.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow, or at least you assumed he did because his bangs moved slightly as he looked at you. “And what, pray tell, did the little shrimp do to garner such favor with you?” He shifted a little closer under the guise of getting comfortable, and now his leg was oh-so-casually touching yours. The movement was as subtle as your poker face.  
You might not have had Steve’s long track record of dating and sex, but you weren’t completely oblivious. There was no way you were going to keep any sort of neutral expression with what would inevitably happen here soon, so you decided to just lean into it. It’s not like anyone was here to interrupt this time. 
You moved yourself closer to him now, adjusting yourself so that your shoulders were now touching. It wasn’t exactly an ideal position, but it was at least your sign to him that you were not against body contact. 
It occurred to you that you were also sitting on his bed, alone. Okay, that thought had occurred to you earlier, but that had been a hypothetical. A fleeting dirty thought about Eddie as a way to blow off steam while you tried to stop your simmering anger for Chris from boiling over. 
This was starting to feel real now, and you absently licked your lower lip, your cheeks warming up. Eddie’s eyes flicked from yours, down to your mouth and then back up to your eyes for a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it move. 
Perfect. 
“Well as we are now both aware, Steve and I had this thing where we would try and wing man for each other. I’d help him get dates, and he’d help me in return.” you said. 
“And I am still trying to figure out how Mr. Popularity was having trouble getting dates.” Eddie shifted his body towards you, but the contact remained. 
“Turns out that high school tactics don’t work after high school.” you shrugged. “So I gave him some tips, and it turns out he’s a fast learner. He really didn’t need my help, just a good smack in the head.” 
“What about you? Am I one of a long line of boys whose hearts you’re breaking?” It was a good thing you were sitting down, because he was giving you the most unfair puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. Had you been standing, that look might have made you weak in the knees.  
“You are the only guy I’ve been on a date with this whole time.” You admitted. 
“How long has this thing been going on?” 
“Late September, I think?” You tried to think back to that original conversation, but it felt like a lifetime ago. 
“That long and Steve could only suggest little old me? I thought you’d have people lining up to date you.” There was a sincerity behind his teasing that didn’t go unnoticed. 
“Steve said that it’d be easy for me to get random dates, but I am horribly picky, and the dating pool in Hawkins sucks.” You explained. “Steve didn’t even start holding up his end of the bargain until weeks in.”
“Okay, so walk me through how Steve Harrington cares enough about my existence to suggest me as a potential suitor for you.” Eddie looked at you. “I can’t get that out of my head.”
“Again, if you need me to set you up with Steve I’d be willing to-”
“No.” Eddie gave you a look that you were sure scared the freshmen at school, but it only made you laugh, which softened his gaze. 
“It was Dustin.” you managed to say between giggles. Your hand reached out and casually rested on his thigh, and you felt his leg twitch slightly under the denim of his jeans but didn’t pull away. “He loves to come in and talk to Steve and it turns out that there is one good thing about being in that stupid school, and that’s you.” 
“Henderson said that?” He looked genuinely surprised. 
“Dustin Henderson has two male role models in his life, and that’s Steve Harrington and you.” Your thumb rubbed absently along his jeans. “Steve knew I wasn’t going to be interested in just anyone, so after hearing all about the kid’s grand adventures with you, Steve and Dustin set up the meeting at the arcade.”
“That little shit.” Eddie leaned his head against the wall.  
“And when you totally ditched me, Steve decided to try again at the Hideout.” you nudged him with your shoulder. “I figured that I’d blown any chance with you, so there was nothing to lose by hitting on you and playing up my alcohol intake just a little bit.” 
Eddie’s head snapped to yours so fast that you were surprised he didn’t hurt himself. “What? I thought Steve ditched you.”
“No, he’d never!” you said quickly. “I.... told him to leave so that I could spend more time with you because he was, hm... how do I say this- he was cockblocking me.” 
Eddie’s laughter echoed through the trailer, filling the small space up with life in the exact opposite way that Chris’s laughter had done in the theater. The sound alone washed away any remaining anger about the day. “Shit... I was ready to fight him in your honor. I thought he left a drunk girl at the Hideout alone with no way to get home. You’re a crafty one.”
“I have my moments.” you said with a grin, waving the paper flower. 
Eddie plucked it from your hand and looked it over, before leaning to set it aside on top of his copy of The Hobbit. He sat close to you and his arm casually draped around your shoulders as he leaned back against the wall with you. 
The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, despite the palpable tension between the two of you. You knew what was coming, it was written all over your body language as well as his. Everything was out in the open now, no more cryptic words, or weird miscommunications. Whatever was next, was anyone’s move. 
You leaned your head on his shoulder, taking in the moment to enjoy how nice the weight of his arm around you felt. When was the last time you had any sort of physical intimacy with someone outside of hugging your friends? Eddie’s thumb rubbed along your shoulder soothingly, and your hand mimicked the movement on his lower thigh.
Every time he shifted, your stomach tensed up and you wondered if this was it. It wasn’t. Time slipped away from the two of you as you rested on his bed, cuddling with each other. The tension between you never eased up- even when your heart beat slowed down, it wouldn’t be long until a simple touch brought it back up. 
Finally his fingers started sliding down your arm, calloused fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake. Sturdy fingers found yours and laced through them, and you felt the heavy rings on his fingers press into your skin. It was a slightly awkward position, with his arm now between your back and the wall, but it was progress. 
The stillness between you was different. Normally, the two of you were unable to shut up, always finding new things to talk about, to learn about each other, to explore with this tentative new bond forming between the two of you. Now? There wasn’t the same rush as before, the two of you could just exist by each other. More talking would happen in the future, but for now you leaned against him and waited for something better to do with your lips. 
You shifted and looked over at Eddie, realizing how close his head really was to yours. He wasn’t looking at you though, his eyes were watching the way your fingers were now messing with the torn fabric of his jeans, your thumb moving between denim and skin. You wondered if that spot on his leg burned the same way that your skin currently was.
Eddie smelled nice. There was the faint smell of cigarettes that lingered on his clothes, but whatever body wash and detergent he used seemed to neutralize most of it. Other than that, he didn’t smell like any object or scent that you could put your mind on. You took a slow deep breath through your nose and decided he smelled earthy and warm like late summer or early autumn, with an undertone of boy. 
What was he thinking right now? Was Eddie feeling the tension between the two of you the same way you were? You didn’t think you were misreading this situation, you’d done this before. Something would have to give soon, were you not being obvious enough? Shit, maybe some of Steve’s advice would have been good here. The two other times you had been in a situation like this, you were the one to make the move first, having grown impatient. But Eddie had clearly been the one to start leaning in first at the movies, right? Was it so wrong for you to want him to make the move? 
Maybe he didn’t want to start because of what happened with Chris? Did he think making a move on you when you were upset over being hit on was tacky? That might be it. Why did that only make you want him more? 
You did a quick check in with yourself over this. Were you mad at Chris? Yes. Were you mad he hit on you? Yes. Did you want Eddie to make a move? Yes. Did you only want Eddie to make a move so that you could forget about Chris? No. You wanted Eddie to do it because you liked Eddie.
Why was this so-
Something bumped your forehead and you realized as you were zoning out that Eddie had been staring at you now. This close, you could see every shade of brown in his round eyes. He shifted slightly again, and your heart jumped into your throat. Warmth flooded you from your cheeks to your toes as you felt his finger twitch against yours. 
“Hey.” Eddie’s voice was quiet in your ear, and it made the back of your neck tingle. “You good? You’ve been staring at my knee for a while.” 
“Sorry, it’s just the sexiest knee I’ve ever seen.” You said, smiling at him.
“Yeah? What about my other knee?” His breath ghosted over face as he let out a laugh. 
“It’s just okay.” The tension was easing a bit between the two of you, and you were torn on if this was a good thing or not. 
Eddie moved so that his shoulder was against the wall and he was facing you. You adjusted yourself accordingly, heart pounding in your chest as your eyes flicked down to his lips for a second before meeting his eyes again. 
“Are you sure you’re good?” He asked, staring at you intensely. 
You were good. You were so good. Actually, if something didn’t happen here soon then that would be the reason you would be not-good. 
“I am now.” You squeezed his hand and gave him a look that you desperately hoped he read as ‘Yes you can do it Eddie I am of sound mind and body and if you don’t do it I may actually explode from the tension between the two of us-’ 
Tumblr media
Eddie’s lips finally found yours for just a brief moment before pulling back slightly. You followed his lips, not letting him get away that easily. Your lips met again, and this time he didn’t pull back. His hand reached up to cup your jaw, his fingers lightly brushing against the back of your neck in a way that made the delicate hairs there stand on end. 
When the two of you broke apart, it was you who pulled back after a few moments with a smile. 
“So...” Eddie said, looking at you. 
“So...” you echoed. 
“Still good?” he asked. 
“Hmm...” you considered for a moment. “I don’t know. I think you should do that again, just to make sure.”
Eddie’s eyes lit up in a way that you had only ever seen on stage so far. This time there was no hesitation in his movements as he pulled you closer again and kissed you. You grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down on the bed with you, not letting your lips part. 
One of his hands rested on you side while the other was used to keep himself from squishing you under him. If he had, you wouldn’t have minded. 
In a lot of romance stories, you had always heard phrases like ‘he kissed her breathless’ or ‘she let out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding’. You had always waited for the day that someone would kiss you like that, but now with Eddie you realized that wasn’t what you needed. 
Because for the first time in a long while, with Eddie nipping at your lower lip and slipping his tongue into your mouth, you felt the exact opposite. 
For the first time in so long, you felt like you could finally breathe. 
Tumblr media
a/n: Holy smokes, y'all finally got smooched! But don't worry, the party's not over yet. I still have a few chapters before everything wraps up! I've had the First Meeting written out since March or April, and I though that would make the rest of the chapter faster to write. I was wrong lol
Dividers by: @strangergraphics
Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n
@mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea
@vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93
@perpetualmessmachine @thebook-hobbit @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh
@siriuslysmoking @huffledor-able541 @pookiesnatcher @eddiesguitarskills @browneyes-8288
@sheneedsrocknroll92 @kores-mun-son-n-more @eddiebuttcheeks
175 notes · View notes
novosg · 1 year
Text
Early Mornings
A look into what life is like in the early mornings with your bf ☀️
Ft: Hobie, written with blackfem!reader in mind (though no specific pronouns are used)
Fluff, SFW, 1k words (y’all said y’all wanted more Hobie? Bettt)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You couldn’t help but wince somewhat when you blearily blinked open your eyes and felt the early morning sun hit them.
You let out a small groan as you tucked your head back into your pillow, hoping to regain some semblance of exhaustion that would help you return to the land of the asleep. When you were met with none, you reached out and grabbed your phone, the mattress below you creaking somewhat at the movement.
8:15 AM. For a Tuesday it could’ve been worse. You set your device back on the nightstand and sat up, rubbing gently at your eyes. You swung your legs over the side of the bed, deciding you might as well try to get the day started with.
You spared a glance at the sleeping figure next to you and, sure enough, he was still dead asleep. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched the slow rise and fall of his chest. Hobie was practically dead to the world in the mornings, having made his dislike of any time ending with AM clear multiple times.
You weren’t better off in that case either, but you both needed to eat and, seeing as your lovely boyfriend wasn’t about to be of any help, you made the executive decision to rise and make your way to the bathroom to get cleaned up.
One shower and brushing of your teeth later saw you dragging your feet into the kitchen. Sunlight bled through the blinds you had yet to open and cast the room in a heavenly golden hue. You hooked your phone up to the speakers in the living room, putting on some easy R&B before you started rummaging through the pantries.
The music floated throughout the apartment as the smell of pancakes and bacon wafted throughout the kitchen. Even in your still tired state you barely made out the sound of water running down the hall. You glanced at the clock on the stove and let out an impressed hum—Hobie had managed to drag himself out of bed before 9 AM. Now the real question was would he be able to stay out of bed?
Your answer came soon enough, in the form of a pair of long arms wrapping lazily around your waist. Your lips tugged upwards as Hobie held you close, resting his head on your shoulder.
“Hey,” he mumbled, nuzzling into your neck before moving his head to sit atop yours.
“Hey,” you replied softly, relishing in the warmth of his embrace, the familiar scent of the body wash he adored encasing you in a way that made you let out a loving sigh.
“Fuckin’ watch was buzzing. Ain’t even ten yet,” Hobie noted, one of his hands rubbing a soft pattern on your waist. You nodded, turning off one of the eyes and removing the bacon away from the heat.
“Let it buzz. Miguel will find someone else to bother,” you said simply, flipping the last batch of pancakes. Above you, Hobie let out a content hum, tugging you even closer to him.
“You’re right. ‘Sides, it’d be rude to skip out on a breakfast this good,” he added, one of his hands coming up to cup your jaw gently. He turned your head so you were facing him, and tipped his head downwards to press a kiss to your lips. You relaxed even further into his hold while his other hand gave your hip a loving squeeze. He pulled away far too soon, eyes lidded with sleep and love as he gazed at you. “Thanks for cooking, by the way.”
“Of course,” was your soft reply as Hobie pulled away, moving to grab you both some plates. You turned the stove off and stacked the pancakes and some of the bacon on a plate he handed you. Next you made his, and Hobie murmured a quiet ‘thanks.’
You both decided to enjoy breakfast on the couch, basking in each other’s presence as you talked about every nonsensical thing that came to mind. You loved mornings like this—the mornings where life was confined to the walls of your apartment. Confined to the brush of Hobie’s hand against your thigh as he tapped out a random rhythm, to the weight of his shoulder against yours as you leaned into each other, or the melodious laughter that spilled from the both of you when he (unsuccessfully) tried to nick a piece of bacon from your plate.
Once the two of you were done, Hobie took your plates to the sink as you stood from the couch, stretching your arms upwards. Considering neither of you had planned to be up so early, you let yourself be guided back to bed by Hobie’s gentle grip.
He let out a small huff as he planted himself on top of the mattress, a hand coming up to rub at his eyes while you laid down beside him. His dark sweats hung low around his waist while his already cropped tank (which was probably yours considering how small it looked on him) rose up further around his abdomen. He rested an arm behind his head and you took a brief moment to admire him before scooting closer and bringing your head down onto his chest. Hobie instinctively wrapped his free arm around you, his fingers dragging up and down your shoulder in a soothing motion.
All was quiet between you two other than your playlist and the soft exhales of each breath. That was until the watch on Hobie’s side of the bed buzzed unceremoniously.
You couldn’t help but giggle softly as Hobie muttered a curse under his breath. He made no move to get up, though. Rather, he simply pulled you closer to him. You toyed with a fray at the end of his shirt, rolling your eyes when your own watch buzzed soon after.
“Oughta throw those damn things out the window,” he grumbled. As much as you liked that idea, you liked being able to see your friends and him whenever you pleased even more so you shook your head.
“Leave it. Miguel and them will be just fine.”
Hobie mumbled his agreement and grew quiet. Barely a minute later he had drifted off back to sleep, his hand coming to a stop on your arm. You smiled to yourself, letting your arm wrap around his waist as you snuggled closer to him.
You let your eyes fall shut, the warmth of the morning sun and the man beside you lulling you to sleep.
746 notes · View notes
nhlclover · 1 year
Text
𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐁 | 𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐂𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘
Tumblr media
summary: your boyfriend and his friends drunkenly create their own little fight club, in which he winds up getting hurt.
warnings: blood, mentions of fighting, mentions of drinking, slight angst, indications of nsfw content.
note: fun fact this is what my brother and his friends do for fun. they have their own walk up songs and everything.
word count: 0.9k
It was somewhere around midnight, or around when you finished page 4 of 8 of your paper, that you heard the crash and shouting from downstairs.
You needed somewhere to get your paper done, and with your roommate's boyfriend in town and the library closed at this hour, you turned to your boyfriend. He lended you his room while him and his roommates hung out downstairs.
They had been relatively quiet until a couple of minutes ago when the shouting started. You assumed they were playing video games, getting competitive as they normally do, however the crash was making you think something was wrong.
You set your laptop down, making your way out of Rutgers room and down to the living room where the boys were hanging out. As you turn the corner, you run smack into Ethan, coming out of the kitchen holding a wet rag.
“Oh, hey y/n!” He says, his voice louder and higher pitched than normal.
You are immediately suspicious, narrowing your eyes at the boy. “What’s going on? I heard a crash.” You ask.
“Nothing, just… spilled a drink is all.” Ethan says. You almost want to believe him but a sudden shout from the living room that sounds like your boyfriend makes you hesitate.
“Ow! Don’t touch it!” Rutger shouts.
You push past Ethan, going into the living room. On the coffee table are several bottles of beer, along with hockey helmets and boxing gloves. Sitting on the couch with a bright red gash on his left cheek, is your shirtless boyfriend, Dylan on one side and Frank on the other.
“What the hell is going on in here?” You ask. Ethan comes in after you, walking to Rutger to hand him the rag.
“Busted.” Mark says, standing beside the fireplace, sans shirt but wearing boxing gloves and a hockey helmet.
You look around noticing all of them shirtless, some wearing boxing gloves. “Okay what the fuck is going on?” You ask, now concerned more than anything.
“Hey babe.” Rutger smiles. He winces as his cheek muscles move. “How’s the paper coming?”
“Don’t change the subject.” You say.
“Okay, we had this really great idea that we would box but wear hockey helmets so our faces wouldn’t get fucked up.” Gavin explained. “But Roger here didn’t attach his helmet properly cause it slipped off, cutting his cheek when Mark gave him a sweet right hook.”
A look of horror appears on your face as you recognize the situation. “So you guys got drunk and decided to form your own fight club?” You ask.
There’s a beat of silence then all the boys nod, exhibiting a chorus of ‘yeah’s.
You shake your head in disbelief. “I am fully convinced none of you graduated kindergarten because what is wrong with you guys?”
They sense your disappointment, all of them hanging their heads slightly. You walk over to your boyfriend, taking the damp rag from his hand.
“C’mere.” You say, taking his hand and bringing him to the bathroom.
You re-wet the rag, dabbing it against the cut. He winces, pulling away. “Oh don’t be a baby, it's just water.” You say.
“Yeah…but it still hurts.” He mumbles.
He meets your eyes, reading the disappointed look on your face. “I’m sorry.” He says.
“Yeah, you should be!” You say, the fear that had manifested into anger spilling out. “Do you know how stupid this is?”
“It was just… a drunk idea.” Rutger shrugged.
“Exactly. What are you going to tell coach Naur when he asks where you got the cut on your cheek from? Are you gonna tell him that you got drunk and fought your teammates?” You ask.
“I didn’t plan to get my face all chopped up!” Rutger counters.
You step back, sighing. “I just… please be smarter?”
Your words seem harsh but Rutger understands what you’re saying. “I know. I'm sorry.” He says.
“I’m sorry too.” You say. “I was too snappy.”
“No it’s warranted. We were being idiots.” Rutger chuckles.
“You were being such an idiot.” You laugh, going back to cleaning his wound.
“I may be an idiot but at least I’m your idiot.”
You snort. “You really know how to talk your way out of trouble.”
“Hey, it works.” Rutger says, throwing his hands up in defense.
You clean away the rest of the blood, dabbing it dry. “You’ll need to go and get a proper bandage for it tomorrow.” You say.
“Or I don’t and I get a cool scar out of it.” Rutger says, checking out the cut in the mirror.
“No. No scar.” You shake your head.
“What? I thought scars were hot and mysterious?” Rutger asks.
You find yourself not being able to disagree with his statement, biting the inside of your cheek. You turn on the sink, cleaning the rag of your boyfriend’s blood.
“Oh I knew it.” Rutger smirks. He snakes his arms around your waist, making eye contact through the mirror.
He slowly places kisses up the nape of your neck, leaning around to place more on your jaw. You tilt your head, giving him better access.
His lips unlatch from your skin, you whimpering from the lack of contact. “How about a break from your essay?”
The pair of you exit from the bathroom, you sticking your head into the living room. “Sorry boys, the fight club is over. We’re heading to bed.” You tell them.
Rutger barely waits for you to finish your sentence before he hands your waist, yanking you back into the hall and towards the stairs. You let out a shriek as you’re pulled into his arms.
“Are you guys switching to wrestling now?” Mark shouts after you.
You guys ignore him and the rest of the boys jeering after you, stumbling your way up the stairs.
809 notes · View notes
kissoulie · 1 month
Text
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒
𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🫧
— NSFW, MDNI. bowling with p1harmony!
a/n: some of u may not know but hot & mysterious user kissoulie has a bowling hyperfixation!! 😭 i went bowling last night for 3hrs and i'm prob going to go again tonight 🤭 this reminded me that seob posted a pic of piwon bowling while they were on tour which is why my brain made this! this is def not my best work but i work like all week so i wanted to write a lil smth silly, short, & fun before i post my first series masterlist tmrw 💓
cws: fem bodied reader but generally gender neutral (use of "pretty"), not entirely explicit smut?? it's just not super detailed the bowling is the main focus my bad 😭, 3some (soulseob), skim proofread for readability only pls excuse all spelling/grammar errors i wrote half of this in a movie theater! that's all i believe, lmk if i missed anything ‹3
Tumblr media
— keeho.
he definitely has an average over 125 you cannot convince me otherwise. he's a straight bowler, but knows how to hook a ball. i also think he has his own bowling ball because he's extra like that. best bowler in piwon!!! i think he kinda bowls like an old man, and still gets extremely hyped for every strike. he will def blow your back out after a bowling date though ❤️ his baby did so well!!! you even almost beat him, so he thinks you deserve a reward, and he knows for you there's no better reward than his fingers inside you while he fucks your pretty head empty.
— taeyang.
he's the average bowler for sure. i'm not entirely convinced he gets super competitive over it, i think he's just there to have fun!! definitely uses an 8, has no particular technique he just walks forward and sends it lol. assuming you're bowling at a place with couches, he for sure has you in his lap while his members go. he orders you both french fries but soul eats them all while you're distracted eye fucking each other 😭😭 he'll start feeling you up, one hand inching higher and higher up your thigh while the other presses against your middle to hold you in place. may or may not invite you to a 'bathroom' break by tapping your thigh and announcing, "i'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick" with some searing eye contact while he walks away, which will leave your stomach in knots thinking about how he's going to rearrange your insides ‹3
— jiung.
i think he's super competitive about this actually 😭 he probably practices bowling at least once a week if they go often, it's something he has a lot of fun getting better at! he hooks as many of his shots as he can, definitely a spare sniper who leaves only a few frames open per game. maybe i'm just a jiung professional bowler truther. he uses his newfound finger dexterity on you though, curling his fingers inside you perfectly while thumbing at your clit. he'll have you seeing stars in no time.
— intak.
straight bowler, averages 100, bowls with a 9. he's pretty straightforward when bowling, he's there to have a good time & look good doing it. i am also of a mind that he plays pool, specifically with you. loser gets the best head of their life (his idea). naturally, he's the one who wins and gets to have you choking around his cock in the back seat while the rest of his members wonder where you both have gone.
— soulseob.
The competitive ever. please they both want to impress you!!! seob is bowling for his life!!!! soul is just having fun!!!! (he got a gutter ball and screeched like a dinosaur.) your little giggles spur them on, "winner gets a kiss" 😭 their sibling rivalry has been unlocked, but their rivalry in bed is worse!! seob did throw 119 in the end, beating soul by 3 pins, and he wastes no time in taking you back to the dorms to get his prize. he shoves you down onto his bed while soul trails behind, "watch us, sho." jongseob holds your hands to pin them to the bed, slipping into you with a wet squelch. his body grinds into yours with desperation you didn't know he had. he fucks you nice and rough. "think he deserves a consolation prize, baby?" you nod dumbly, your eyes droopy and dilated. "poor princess." he muses, beckoning soul closer, letting him stretch you out impossibly wider, your mouth dropping open in a broken moan. ‹3
Tumblr media
taglist: @tkooooop ♡
90 notes · View notes
luvyeni · 8 months
Text
10 DAYS TO FALL IN LOVE — chapter 8. jays party !
word count. 0.8k+ content warning. drug usage, mentions of alcohol, angst, jake is lowkey dumb
Tumblr media
You sat in your seat legs folded — jumi in your lap as you typed away at your computer trying to finish the essay. You sighed, stretching as jumi began to meow. “You hungry baby?” you picked her up, sitting her on the floor. “Let’s go get you some food.” You stood up, walking out the room, your cat following behind.
“Here you go girl.” You sat her bowl down, giving her a head pat — your phone began to ring. “Okay baby eat your food.” You made your way back to your room.
You assumed it was heeseung because he was  a supposed to call — and you definitely kept looking at your phone, but you lowkey frown when you realize it was his number. “what do you want sunoo.”
“Now why are you answering the phone like that?” He said before you heard hanni in the back muttering something about it not being the time. “dumbass.” You heard her say much clearer showing that she now had the phone. “we need you to come get us, your car is out the shop right?” Your friend said — you had forgotten all about your car since heeseung started driving you. “yeah.”
“Well then hurry, jungwon was our designated driver, but dumbass went and got himself drunk.” Sunoo shouted over the music. “okay here I come, make sure he’s okay.”
You search for your keys, grabbing your shoes, before making your way to your parking garage to your car to go save your friends.
You knew where jay lived, and the drive wasn’t far so you got there quickly, jumping out of the car to go find them. “yn!” you heard hanni’s voice, you turned and they were running over to you. “we lost him.”
“You what?” you shouted. “we were waiting and he complained about going to the bathroom, so we let him.” The girl explained. “and now he’s somewhere in the house.” you didn’t plan on going into the house, but it looks like you were now. “Im gonna kill him when I find him.”
You all make your way into the house , splitting up to find your friend. Making your way into the kitchen to see if was in there. “yn?” you turned thinking it was jungwon, your face dropping once you saw who it was. “Leave me alone jake.” He looked you up and down at your outfits — you definitely weren’t dressed for a party. “nice sweatpants, your tank top doesn’t match that.”
“Have you seen jungwon?” you asked. “who?” he questioned, you were about to ask him again when you finally saw his eyes — he was high, so there was no way you were getting anything out of him. “nothing move.” You pushed him out the way. “wait , he's over there.” He pointed. “That’s where I seen him with her.”
Thinking he was talking about jungwon you follow his instructions, making your way through the crowd. “jungwon.” You called out — someone bumping into you. “im sorry– yn?” you recognized the voice immediately. “heeseung?”
There he stood, a girl sitting next to him — he immediately dropped her hand. “what are you doing here.” He asked, you looked in between them, and you weren’t stupid. “I could ask the same about you, when jake told me he was over here i thought he was talking about jungwon.” You said. "Jake told you where i was?" he stared at you about to open his mouth when you finally noticed how he was acting and he could barely stand up.
“You’re high.” You scoffed. “aren’t you?” he didn’t say anything. “right, goodbye heeseung.” You went to turn away but he grabbed your hand. “wait yn.” You snatched your hand away. “let me explain.”
“explain what, that you lied to me, told me you weren’t coming here, told me you weren’t gonna get high, that you weren’t hooking up with other girls, made me fall for this bullshit, that you actually changed.” You felt yourself getting upset. “don’t be so dramatic yn.”
“don’t be dramatic?” You questioned. “fucking asshole.” You scoffed. “yeah it’s not a big deal, you knew how I was.” He said. “yeah but you’d promise to change.” He shrugged. “well, who’s fault is that, that you believed me, did I change back then?”
You didn’t even want to fight, he wasn’t even sober so you’d just get no here. “you’re right , that was my mistake.” You said , just as hanni came over. “we found jungwon.” She asset the situation, frowning. “yn?”
“let’s get jungwon and get out of here.” You grabbed her arm , dragging her away. “yn— I don’t want to talk about it.”
You both found jungwon and sunoo outside , jungwon crouched down groaning. “yn!” he shouted once he saw you. “you’re here!” he drunkenly wrapped his arms around you. “oh?” he grabbed your face. “why do you look so upset?” he slurred. “don’t be upset.” He stumbled. “get in the car.” You ignored what he said, helping hum in the car.
The drive to the boys dorm was silent until sunoo spoke up. “what’s wrong yn?” You gripped the steering wheel. “nothing.” You said, he turned to hanni, who just shook her head and it  continued to stay silent until they made it home.
You dropped hanni off at her dorm who sat in the front seat almost scared to say something. “he’s an asshole.” She said as you pulled up. “yeah.” Was all you said. “fuck him.” She opened the door. “yeah.”
She quickly touched your arm comforting you, getting out the car. “drive safely.” She waved you off, as you drove away.
You felt the tears streaming down your face as you drove back to your dorms, you hated him so much right now, you hated the fact that you allowed him back into your life just to hurt you again.
You hated that this time you actually fell in love with him.
Tumblr media
previous - masterlist - next
— ( TAGLIST: CLOSED )
Tumblr media
©️LUVYENI
243 notes · View notes
reysdriver · 9 months
Text
Mattress Acting | P.P.
Tumblr media
Day 8 of Kinktober: Photography/Sex Tape — peter x fem!reader
warnings: 18+, Minors DNI - smut, sex tape, slight exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, piv sex, creampie
words: 1.3k
a/n: I told yall im gonna stick to kinktober even tho its literally december! NEVER BACK DOWN NEVER WHAT??
Tumblr media
The idea had struck you both at the same time last night. When Peter had picked up his camera off his dresser as you were changing into your pyjamas. You heard the click sound of the shutter when you were pulling your shirt over your head, and you knew exactly what it was. 
After pulling off the piece of fabric, you saw your boyfriend standing against the wall with a cheeky grin on his face. 
“I’ll delete it, I promise.” He said, still smiling. 
“You don’t have to.” You told him. “I always like when you use me as a model.”
So now here you were, getting dressed up in your nicest set of sexy underwear while Peter was in his boxers, setting up his camera on a tripod beside your bed. 
Once you were done getting ready, you came out of the bathroom and called for Peter’s attention. He looked up at you with wide eyes. As much as you loved his flattery, you were excited to start and didn’t want to waste much time. 
“How’s the camera?” You asked, motioning to the stand. 
“All set up, everything looks good.” He answered. “I’ll press record whenever you’re ready.”
You smiled at him excitedly. “Let’s make a sex tape, then.”
He pressed the red button on the top of the device, then walked you back to the bed. He kissed you as he laid you back against the sheets, then softly pecked the crown of your head. 
“You’re gonna be a goddamn movie star, baby.” Peter told you, then returned to your lips as he laid atop you. 
His large hands started travelling all across your body. They started at your cheeks as he held your face close, then they started moving down. 
Then, at your chest, they cupped your breast over the bra and kneaded at the lush flesh. When he felt that wasn’t enough for him, he moved one of his hands to your back, and you arched for him, He easily manoeuvred the clasp open, and kept going how he was before. 
And finally, at your hips, he pulled you tightly against him, and you could feel his boner through his boxers. Unfortunately, with that and your panties, there were still two layers of fabric separating you from your boyfriend. Now that just couldn’t be anymore.  
Luckily, Peter seemed to share your sentiment because he hooked two fingers around your waistband and tugged slightly, wordlessly telling you to lift your hips. And you did, of course. You let him pull down your underwear, and he pulled away from the kiss so he could toss them aside. You watched as he discarded them in the direction of the tripod, and they fell to the floor after hitting the stand about a foot under the camera. 
Oh, that camera. You felt the same rush whenever Peter used you as the subject of his photography. In school, he went to you first for every photography assignment he could possibly fit you into—partially because he claimed you as his inspiration, and partially because he knew how much you loved it. 
You were pulled out of your haze when you felt Peter shifting his body down along the bed so he could hold his face between your legs. 
A swarm of butterflies rushed from your core into your stomach when Peter pressed that first warm kiss to your centre. As if your limbs were moving without you even thinking about them, your legs interlocked behind Peter’s back and your hands latched onto his soft hair. 
It seemed like he took your actions as a sort of motivation, he brought his mouth to your clit and began working it. You didn’t even have to perform for the camera; his kisses unleashed a perfectly pornographic moan from deep inside you. 
God, the way he knew how to please you with just his mouth was insane. Each and every movement of his tongue or his lips was just so amazingly perfect. 
You knew from the start that you wouldn’t last long, but when Peter just kept lapping at your pussy while using all the moves he had kept track of over the time you’ve been together because he knew they made you cum, of course the petit mort was almost here. 
Your vision quickly became dark and you started seeing stars. Your jaw fell slack and your hands gripped your boyfriend’s hair. It was almost unbelievable how good he was at this. 
And it wasn’t even close to over yet. 
“Pete.” You breathed. “That was amazing.”
“Just trying to put on a good show.” He shrugged. He was acting nonchalant, but you could see his smile peeking through his lips. 
He lifted himself up, and you could see his hard member straining against his boxers. It was definitely one of your favourite sights of all time. 
“You want me to help you with that?” You asked happily. 
And because you both knew what the answer was going to be, he just smiled back at you as he removed the little bit of fabric that was covering him. 
You dragged your fingers along your own slit, picking up some of your own slick to use as lubrication, then you brought your hand up to grasp his cock as he sat beside you. 
Peter inhaled deeply when you wrapped your hand around his dick, and his sounds of pleasure only increased in volume when you started to jerk him off. He definitely didn’t need the extra arousal—he was already hard as a rock from eating you out—but maybe you just wanted to build anticipation even more. 
After what you felt was a sufficient amount of strokes to move him along and raise lust, you sat up and nestled yourself onto his lap. You guided him to your pussy and sank down onto him. The stretch around him was so perfect; you and Peter were both audible in proving that. 
With hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, you started bouncing up and down on his cock. You kept riding your boyfriend, motivated by his sweet groans close to your ear, but the task was getting somewhat tiresome. Not that it wasn’t exciting, but you felt like your energy had been largely used up by Peter eating you out. 
And he clearly noticed this because he brought his hands up to your hips so he could do the hard work. He started lifting and lowering you for both your pleasures, and he did it brilliantly. 
You felt Peter gradually tense up, and you knew he was almost at his climax. He twitched once, then twice, inside of you before releasing pumps of cum inside of you. He kept using you for a few pumps after he was all done, then while still inside of you, he laid you on your back and pressed a series of soft kisses on the side of your neck. 
Once you had both cooled down, Peter slowly pulled out of you and reached over to the camera and stopped the recording before lying back down and cuddling with you. You hummed with his touch and thanked him quietly. He smiled back at you and interlocked your hands. 
“Can we watch it together tomorrow night?” You asked. 
Peter brought your hand up to his face and kissed it gently. “Of course. I’ll even promise not to touch the camera until then so I won’t see anything.”
He was too sweet. You pulled the duvet over the two of you and tucked the two of you in with the blanket.
He spoke up again. “And then I can even pick out the best shots, and we could get them framed and put them right up on the wall there.” He smiled and tapped the wall behind the headboard. 
You laughed along with him, but you weren’t entirely opposed to the idea. 
Tumblr media
389 notes · View notes
highvern · 10 months
Text
Teach Me III
gold star
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
Pairing: Lee Dokyeom (Seokmin) x fem!reader
Genre: smut, humor, college au, frat!svt
Warnings: cream pie, unprotected sex, cowgirl, squirting, inexperience!dk, experienced!reader, mentions of drug use (weed) and alcohol , oral (f. receiving), cum swallowing, spitting, fingering, making out, strength kink bc he's hot, minor overstim at the end but he's just enthusiastic, fwb, DK is a munch pt 2
Length: ~4.1k
Note: finally done! I’ve been working so much and this has been like the boogie man lmao part 4 is outlined so it'll probably be another week or two? lemme know what y'all think!!
read more here
[Thursday 10:26AM]
Lee Sock-mint: Did you get your exam back yet 👀👀👀
You: yep
You: you?
Lee Sock-mint: Yep
You: what’d you get
Lee Sock-mint: What’d YOU get
You: i asked first
Lee Sock-mint: Well I asked second
Lee Sock-mint: I got an A tho
You: HOLY SHIT
You: twinsies ♥️
Lee Sock-mint: HELL YEAHHHHHH 🔥🔥🔥🔥
-
That Night Approx. 8:27PM, Dokyeom’s bedroom
“Ohhh—-just like that!”
Obscene echoes of your sopping pussy fill the room as Dokyeom stuffs you with two long fingers, curling them upward searching for the spot he found a few days ago that had you crying. Bent between your spread legs, he’s praying at the altar of your body; tongue tracing along the inside of your thigh where it lays over his shoulder, biting a bruise into the delicate flesh. The hand not gloved in your cunt squeezes the plush flesh of your opposite leg, using the leverage to spread you out. A choked moan from your body bends your back as you attempt to suffocate him in your thighs.
In the few weeks you’ve been hooking up, Dokyeom has proven to be nothing less than a model student.
Even your first “tutoring session” had been incredibly fruitful. After you sucked out his soul through his dick, he spent an hour learning the ins and outs of your pussy. 
The next few times Dokyeom begged you to show him exactly what you liked; quickly acclimating to him staring at your folds while you touched yourself, making yourself come before giving him time to mimic and perfect his technique. Once he gained enough confidence to start experimenting on his own, his progress soared beyond your expectations.
Despite earning the right to brag, he didn’t; still sheepish around the entire arrangement. But even with his shy demeanor, you knew he was incredibly happy with himself due to the one piece of evidence he allowed to exist. On his phone, hidden in a secret locked notes app, Dokyeom recorded his best times like a leader board.
From fingers: 10.33 
From mouth: 7.57
From DK Jr. : 15.23 missionary, 11.57 doggy, 9.48 on top
The first time he showed you, you almost smothered him with his own pillow. The fact he was timing your hookups striking a cord in your gut that you couldn’t name; along with the knowledge that he refers to his dick as DK Jr.. But he managed to sooth your irritation with sheepish smiles and flattering praises.
Since then you’ve begun to find it endearing, especially when he shows you the other note that has all the things he wants to try with you. Positions, places, activities; tiny check markets dotting across the list they’re knocked out one by one. Your favorite so far was his desire to fuck you with other people nearby; fulfilled by Dokyeom pulling you into a cramped bathroom at another on one of his frat parties, flipping up your skirt and pushing aside your panties as he bent you over the sink to stretch you full of his cock. It was a testament of your will power to be quiet enough that no one from the party heard how good he gave it to you; aided by the same fingers currently in your cunt being shoved in your mouth to quiet your moans.
But tonight you’re pulling from your own perverted bucket list. As his reward for doing so well on the exam, you’re planning to let him fuck you raw; the vision of him spilling inside your cunt making you vibrate with excitement. 
Nothing like a little positive reinforcement for the both of you.
“Taste so good,” he mumbles against your folds, entranced by how you squeeze around his fingers.
Dokyeom doesn’t know what you have planned yet, simply agreeing to your request for a post-study session hookup; but, imagining the look on his face after he finds out makes you gush against his tongue.
“Need more,” you whine, nails raking against his scalp as your hips roll against his mouth.
His fingers pick up their tempo as his mouth latches to your nub. Unlike the first time, he gently sucks it between his lips, focusing on allowing the tip of his tongue to coax against the bundle nerves.
“Don’t stop,” you sob, flailing on the mattress. “please! Gonna cum—“
Eyes crossing at the scorching slide of Dokyeom’s tongue against your clit, his hand pushes deeper before spreading his fingers apart. He finally catches the spongy patch of flash he’s been searching for, curling the tips of his middle finger against it rapidly.
“Fuck— I’m gonna, I–” you choke words catching in your throat as you snap.
Dokyeom doesn’t stop, doesn’t alter a thing except for opening his eyes to watch you come alive above him. His absolute favorite part of your frequent hookups is watching you; the way can’t hide how much you like this; how much you like him doing this. 
Head dipped forward to your chest, eyes sealed shut, brow pinched tight, nose wrinkled, and jaw dropped in a long ‘O’ as you sing your pleasure. It’s permanently etched into the back of his eyelids since the first time he witnessed it but he never tires of watching it happen in real time. On the rare occasion he’s alone and you’re busy, it’s all he needs to think about to get himself off with record speed.
Dokyeom really really really loves making you come. 
And after the semester you’ve had, he revels in the fact he can take your mind off everything; if only for a little while. You work harder than anyone he knows, balancing academics, extracurriculars, a social life, and a million other things. The admiration he feels deep in his chest, suspiciously close to his heart, drives him to pamper you. 
And tonight, courtesy of your high marks, he plans to have you come till tears run down your face. 
When your tremors subside, he licks a fat strip up your slit, tongue flat and firm before focusing on your clit once again as he sinks a third finger into your cunt.
“Minnie please!” you beg, the breathless crack of your voice an empty plea he can’t find himself caring about.
A swat against the meat of your thigh is his only warning for you to hold still, “You can take one more.”
“Too much.” 
“Come on pretty girl, give me another. You deserve it.” Dokyeom replaces his mouth with his hand, fingers rubbing harshly at the raised nub as he pins you with a look. Your hips buck once again as he spits on his fingers curling into you, adding to the vulgar mess.
“I can’t!”
“Yes. You. Can.” each word punctuated with a drive of his fingers, coaxing more of your essence out of your leaking hole, coating his hand and dripping down his wrist to the sheets.
The gleam in Dokyeom’s eyes when he’s like this is unlike the usual persona he embodies. Demanding and expectant, because of course you’ll come for him again. Why wouldn’t you? He happily gives you exactly what you need to keep wallowing in mind numbing pleasure for as long as you like. Who are you to say no to such generosity?
“Oh fuck, fuck, I’m—”
Your hands nearly rip the bed spread underneath you, feet kicking out as your eyes squeeze tight against the fireworks erupting across the darkness. It's unlike any orgasm you’ve ever experienced. Stomach tightening, a thin sheen of sweat breaks along your exposed skin. Squeezing around the repeated press of his hand, a renewed gush of arousal coats his fingers. Everything is hotter. Wetter. 
The spray of liquid against mouth shocks him for a moment, but as Dokyeom realizes what he’s done he turns feral.
“Holy shit.” he whines, lapping up everything you’re giving him, tongue wild and desperate. His own hips rock into the bed, curling his cock against the friction of his boxer in search of relief. You're both soaked, your essence and his spit dripping from his chin to his chest as he drools into the mess. Dokyeom planned to give you a breather after you came again but now nothing exists outside of your wrecked pussy and the smear of your arousal coating his face.
Nose scrunched against the over stimulation, tears sting your eyes. Sobbing for him to give you a moment, a second, to collect your thoughts. You're floating, barely tethered to the bed where his digits curl. But Dokyeom doesn’t listen. Tongue splitting your folds, tracing around his fingers still plunged inside your pussy.
Tangling your hands in his hair, you give a firm tug to disconnect him from your worn cunt. Despite the shortcircuiting pleasure still flooding your veins, the vision of your fuck buddy, pink tongue licking his lips, chin dripping and eyes hooded, awakes a hunger deep in your soul.
“My turn.” you growl.
Pulling him up your body, you waste no time connecting your lips. The heady taste of yourself infiltrates your mouth as you pant into his mouth, but you don’t mind as you continue to tease, the erotic slide of muscle against muscle consuming your focus.
Without disconnecting your lips, you push him until his back meets the sheets; pinning him in place once his boxers are gone, settling over his thighs. Urgently collaring his stiff length in your hand, the rigid velvet sits hot and heavy, head flushed and damp. You skim the tip through your folds, collecting the combination of juices, his own pre-cum adding to the mix before spreading it down his shaft. You gasp into Dokyeom’s mouth when the puffy head grazes your clit, giving a firm squeeze before letting go. Allowing it to slap against his belly before planting yourself on top, grinding against the underside of his cock; the red tip visible at the top of your folds, pearly beads of his cum dripping onto his abdomen with each desperate lerch.
“Oh fuck—” he whimpers.
Propped on his elbows, all Dokyeom can do is watch the hand you’d been using to play with him move to your mouth, sucking your dripping fingers into your mouth, moaning at the taste. He pulls you by the back of your neck to his mouth, echoing your whimper as he tastes the erotic mix himself. Your hips continue to grind against him, tilting yourself forward to force the tip of his cock to snare against the ring of muscle at your entrance. Barely an inch enters you before Dokyeom curls his hips away, smacked in the face by the realization of what you’re about to do.
He looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, mouth parted around stuttered breaths. An expectant look greets him, hunger flashing like lightning in your eyes. Dokyeom swallows thickly, mouthwatering at the very real chance of seeing your cunt coated in his seed. Filled to the brim, leaking down your thighs.
The fantasy is short lived as a rush of fear zips down his spine. He’s about to fuck you raw. In his favorite position. After you squirted on his face. If he can last more than a few strokes it’ll be a miracle. 
Never able to hide his emotions, you catch the worry clouding his face, eclipsing the lust present seconds ago.
“You okay?” you breath, pausing to give him a reprieve.
“Great.”
“Minnie…”
“s fine.” He mumbles words under his breath.
You dodge his attempt at reconnecting your lips, refusing to let him distract you from whatever popped into his head. Shuffling back, you move further down his thighs and away from his crotch. You don’t understand the sudden shift in his demeanor but going any further seems like a mistake. 
Dokyeom’s shoulders meet the bed as his elbows give out. Staring at the tiles of the ceiling, he tries to find the right words to tell you what he’s thinking. Shame thickens his throat like wet sand, preventing him from speaking but you just wait above him patiently. The comforting sensation of your fingers gently tracing the back of his hand gives him focus.
Closing his eyes, Dokyeom steels himself with a breath.
“Just need a second.” He whispers.
“Okay,” you whisper back. 
Only the humming fan in the corner fills the silence between you. Dokyeom knows you’re watching him, cataloging every twitch of his lips and fully bellied breath. The skin of your thigh is soft under his palm, the warmth calming his nerves as he gently traces shapes into the dip above your knee with the pads of his fingers. The gentle press of your lips on his cheekbone startles him before your nose brushes against his own. 
“What’s going on up there?” You gently ask, one of your fingers brushing his temple.
Eyes fluttering open, he’s met with the endless depths of your as you lean back a few inches to meet his gaze. The fondness softening your face reminds him that of all people, you’re the last that would laugh at him about this. You’ve literally seen him at his lowest, yet look what came out of that? If there’s one person he can be honest with, it's you.
“Might come.” Dokyeom sighs, looking at you with nervous eyes.
You’re dumbfounded. Utterly, and truly shocked. He just made you come twice, and he’s anxious that getting some satisfaction himself will somehow disappoint you. You want to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation but you know your first hookup is still a sore subject for him. 
Ducking back down to leave a reassuring peck on his lips, you grin at him. 
“That’s okay. Take all the time you need.” Leaning back up you see the embarrassment still clouding his features, racking your brain for a way to cut the tension. “I’ll just keep myself occupied.”
Dokyeom’s eyes flash at your words, curious at their meaning. Pushing up on your knees, one of your hands moves back to the apex of your thighs. You don’t grab for his cock still nudging you; instead, you collect the sticky mess smeared between your legs, middle finger dipping inside just a hair before coming back to your clit. Teasing gentle circles around it, your breath grows uneven, hips stuttering forward in search of more.
Shit.
Dokyeom is lost in a daze; licking his lips as you touch yourself, eyes glued to the digits swiping across your cunt. He’s still heavy and hard, the flared head of his cock glistening from its brief plunge in your depths. You can’t take your eyes off it, nearly drooling from desire to have him split you open.
“Fuck.” you whine, wishing the calloused pads of his fingers were working you instead. Ever since your little arrangement started, your fingers have become a distant second to his slender ones.
Your show isn’t helping stave the rising orgasm building in Dokyeom’s core. The exact opposite really, fanning the flame to a near inferno. The sight of you getting off, the sounds of your soaking cunt, the taste still on his tongue, the feel of you dripping on his muscular thighs. Even the smell of sex permeates through his tiny bedroom, clogging his nose like a musky perfume.
Fuck it. He thinks. If he blows his load before making you come again he’ll just have to make it up to you. How awful. 
Dokyeom’s hand brushes yours away, thumbing your clit as two fingers stretch to prod your entrance again. If he can work you up enough before he’s inside you he’ll at least have a fighting chance. 
“Wanna feel you inside me, Minnie.” You demand, using both hands to squeeze your breast. Dokyeom pants at the sight of your nipples peeking out between your fingers, bruised from his teeth.
Maybe you’re playing it up for his ego but you've truly never been so desperate. Greedy for pleasure even with the orgasms he’s already coaxed out of you, and on the horizon is the promise of a third. Being so close to getting railed the way you need but just out of reach is sending your mind into a tailspin. To make matters worse, Dokyeom seems just as eager to give it to you.
“Yeah? Want me to stuff you with my cum?”
“Yes! Need it.”
Shuffling back into Dokyeom’s lap, you sink down onto his cock in one motion, pushing the air from your lungs as he threatens to tear you in half. The burn from his girth races up your spine to add to the mind numbing sensations consuming you.
Tangling his arms behind you back, Dokyeom plants his feet on the bed to fuck up into you at a brutal pace. He’d never complain about fucking you with a condom but with out one? The silky stretch of your pussy, sweltering and soaked, is the closest to heaven Dokyeom’s ever been. Every squeeze around him pulls him in further, the head of his cock fitting snugly against your walls.
Your own hands find wobbly purchase beside his head, your chest aligns perfectly with his mouth to suck and lick against your breasts. Desperate pleas rushing to fill join the mess of noises rising from your bodies. 
Your essence coats his cock, dripping down his balls as the clap of skin echoes in the room. Each thrust forces another whimper from your throat, the vulgar thought of your cunt dripping with evidence of him racing you to another orgasm. 
“Gonna cum,” Dokyeom groans beneath you. The rasp of his voice sends your hips to meet him thrust for thrust.
“Please! Want it—” you bawl. “Want your cum.”
His head lulls back as you beg, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your sides to lock you in place. His thighs burn from exertion but he keeps going, the familiar twitch in his gut telling him to go deeper, harder. Something primal whispering in his brain to brand you with his seed, mark you as his. The way you clench around him adding to the call.
“Fuck, just like that.” You keen when he thumbs your worn clit. His other hand wraps in your hair, pulling to bare your neck for his mouth. 
You feel the twitch of his cock deep inside you, and he gives you a few more thrusts before painting your insides. The sharp sting of teeth ripping the wind out of your lungs, pulling you down with him.
Using his chest for leverage, you lean back and ride him through it, reveling in satisfying fullness. Dokyeom’s eyes fall to your tits, pressed alluringly between your arms and swaying with each bounce on his sputtering length.
Gasping in each other's arms, Dokyeom keeps curling into you till he’s spent. Cracking open his eyes to take in the bliss painting your face before sneaking a peak to where you’re connected. A ring of white coats his length where he enters you, trickling down to the smattering of curly hair at his base. His cock gives a pathetic twitch of interest but that's all it manages with how hard he just came.
Collapsing onto his chest, you nuzzle against his neck. “That was…” 
Great, wonderful, spectacular, best orgasm he’s ever had in his life. But no word seems to fit exactly how Dokyeom is feeling right now. When he finally can feel his body again, wraps his arms around you to keep you firmly planted against his chest, one hand moving to scratch your back soothingly. When you clench around him, Dokyeom realizes he’s still inside, softening length allowing a flood of cum to trickle out.
“Are you staying tonight?”
“Nah,” you roll off him to stretch, letting the satisfaction only a good fuck can bring settle in your muscles. “Gotta be up early.”
“I can walk you home.” He offers over his shoulder, shuffling to his closet to dress for the night.
“It’s only like nine, I’ll make it home just fine.”
“My mom would kill me if she found out I let you walk alone this late.”
Rolling to your stomach, you watch him pull on a hoodie. “Wow so it's not even you being considerate, just wanna hypothetically save your own skin.”
“I’d be worried too.”
“Fine, but at least put on some real pants.”
“What's wrong with my pants?”
The pointed look at the flannel Simpson pajama pants says it all.
“Fine.”
In true Seokmin fashion, the next five minutes are spent huffing and puffing as he digs for a suitable pair of sweatpants to wear for the short walk to your dorm. You receive several pointed looks and a final “hmph!” as he finds a pair he deems worthy. At least he makes good use of his theater classes.
“Alright, let's go!”
The walk to your dorm zigzags through the busiest parts of campus, and as such despite the late hour, you and Doekyeom run into friend after friend. Most are headed off campus to take part in thirsty Thursdays at the bars just blocks away. A few scampering home from the library, surrendering to the exhaustion that comes post-midterms. 
Of course, Dokyeom’s roommate is in the mix.
“Hey! What are you guys doing out?” Soonyoung’s question is innocent but the way he yells it across the courtyard you're currently passing through snags the attention of a few other students.
“Just walking her home.”
“How sweet.” The older man coos. “By the way, what’d you get on the practical?”
“One hundred.”
“No shit!” Soonyoung high fives you. “So did Dokyeom. Wait…are you guys going to celebrate?”
The wiggle of Soonyoung’s eyebrows make him look like he’s having a stroke.
“We already did.” You smirk as Dokyeom gapes like a fish, red as a tomato. 
All you can do is shrug. It's crazy the same man next to you was drilling your guts less than an hour ago, but the proof is still pooled in your panties.
“Anyway! What are you doing out?” Dokyeom asks, eager for a subject change.
“Didn’t do too hot but the TA said I can get half credit back if I do test corrections.”
“Ahh. So it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that the girl you have a crush on has a shift in the tutoring labs on Thursdays?”
“You told her?” Soonyoung turns on Dokyeom, eyes wide.
“You told me, idiot.” You cut in.
“Oh! Well maybe that's part of the reason but Minhyuk said he’ll only give me till Monday morning so it's a happy coincidence.”
“Well good luck!” You call, taking a step in the direction of the dorms.
Soonyoung calls you back before your foot hits the sidewalk. 
“Oh, by the way, are you coming to the cabin with us next week? We’re trying to figure out cars right now and need a headcount.”
“What cabin?”
“It's SBT’s mountain weekend!” He announces before turning to DK. “You didn’t tell her?”
“Ugh,” the still blushing man chokes.
“Well, this is awkward.” Soonyoung winces, slowly backing away.  “I’ll see you guys later.” 
Discomfort swirls around you and Dokyeom as you return to your original path. You’d spent enough time around frats to know they spent a weekend at some old cabin deep in the mountains each fall, drinking and smoking in excess. Traditionally, its invite only, a plus one for each fraternity brother. An upperclassman in MX, Jooheon, had brought you to his own your freshman year. The shiny allure of spending a weekend with a hot guy quickly dulled by the reality of fifty plus people cramming into a shoddy building to fuck and get drunk wasn’t as fun as it sounded on paper. To this day, you still can’t get the horrible wails of the girl Minhyuk had brought. It's why Soonyoung and DK attend the lecture he TA’d at a normal hour and you braved the horrors of an eight AM.
It shouldn’t matter that Dokyeom hadn’t asked you, or how he didn’t even bother to mention it in passing. The relationship between you is nothing more than two acquaintances who hook up. Frequently. At its core, you’re his friend who occasionally tutors him in anatomy. Why would he ask you to stay with him for a weekend? Why would you be upset if he didn’t?
And yet…
“I completely forgot it was even happening.” Dokyeom shares quietly.
“It’s really fine!”
“I mean if you wanted, you could come with?”
“Already have plans. Sorry.”
“Oh, that’s cool.” 
Fortunately the awkward conversation is cut short as you approach the lobby of your dorm. You’ve never been happier to see the tacky green walls beyond the glass door lined with old campus flyers. 
“Thanks for walking with me.”
Dokyeom looks like he wants to say more but before he can speak you’re turning around and marching inside. You don’t catch the way he stares at your retreating figure, only leaving the way he came once you're firmly out of sight.
386 notes · View notes