#I’m eyeing those Valentine’s Day prompts

[skzdarlings]

the demonstration ; skz ; jeongin x reader

requested by anonymous: you keep your hands where they are or i'll tie them up. ❜ w Jeongin? 😩 please 🥰. requested by anonymous: I.N AND ❛ do whatever you want with me, i'm yours. ❜ ❛ you taste like heaven. ❜ PLEASE IF YOU CAN BEGGING YOU

pairing: yang jeongin/reader content info: friends to lovers. reader asks jeongin if he has ever made someone squirt and if so please show her hehe. reader mentions a bad date with a rude guy who called her high-strung. squirting, pussy-eating, riding, just a good time lol. explicit sexual content. word count: 4000 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy <3

-

Jeongin is finally awake when you return to his apartment.  You visited this morning but he must have had a late night because the flat was dark and silent when you let yourself in. You went for a stroll, hoping the fresh air would clear your mind, but what you really needed was him.  A conversation with Jeongin always improves your mood.  Just thinking about those deep dimples brings out your own smile.  

“Hi there,” you say sweetly.  You close the door and replace your shoes with the slippers he keeps for you.  You bound up to the kitchen counter.  “Can I ask you something?”  

Jeongin clearly just rolled out of bed.  Far from glamourous, your nonetheless very handsome friend is wearing a hoodie and sweatpants and his black thick-rimmed glasses.  He has the hood pulled over his head, his dishevelled black hair peeking out.  A bowl of ramen sits in front of him, though his sleepy gaze is on his phone, long ringed fingers curled around the device. 

You look at those fingers thoughtfully, your mouth a little drier than before.  Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all…

It’s too late.  Jeongin emerges from the slumped cavern of his hoodie, lifting his bespectacled face.  He dutifully puts his phone facedown on the counter.   Pushing his sleeves to his elbows, he says, “Of course.  Hi.  How are—”  He yawns before he can finish.  The yawn breaks into a wheezy little laugh.   

You take the seat across from him at the kitchen island and watch him twirl his chopsticks.  Nimble fingers flip them around before he digs into his noodles, slurping a little ungracefully.  He swallows almost half the bowl in a scoop.  Your eyes are still on his hands.   

“Jeongin,” you say.  “Have you ever—oh, no, thank you.” 

He is holding out a clump of noodles on his chopsticks.  When you decline, he shoves it in his own mouth. 

“Jeongin,” you say again.  “Have you ever made a girl squirt?”

He chokes on the noodles.  It gets ugly quick.  You emit a little squeak of your own when he thumps on his chest so hard that his hood falls back and his glasses fall off.  He hacks up the noodles and spits some across the island. 

“Are you okay?” you ask.     

“I’m fine,” he says in a rough voice, squinting hard like a beleaguered puppy.  He fumbles with his glasses, blinking quickly once they are back on his face.   Then he reaches for his water bottle and unscrews it with a flick of his fingers.  He rubs his chest while drinking.

You purse your lips, watching him.  His profile is so defined, his jaw so sharp and cheekbones high.  He really is ridiculously handsome.  And those hands.  You look at the prominence of the veins running down his forearm, the subtle strength in his slender form, the long easy grace of his fingers.  If any man is turning women into waterfalls, it must be him.

“So,” you say, “have you ever done it?”

He chokes on his water, but not as dramatically as the noodles.  It’s a messy hiccup and he dribbles water down his chin, barely catching it in the cup of his hand.  He puts the bottle aside and wipes his hand on his thigh. 

“I don’t think I understand the question,” he finally says. 

“What? ‘Have you ever made a girl squirt?’” you ask, tipping your head.  “Sorry, what’s confusing?”

“Um.”  He looks at you in bewilderment.  “The part where you are asking me it?” 

“Oh.”  A little – okay, a lot of embarrassed heat explodes in your chest.  It radiates out with rapid-fire speed, scalding your neck and your face. 

You lower your gaze.  His dark eyes and expressive brows are now too intense for you.  You fiddle with your fingers in your lap, thumbs pushing at each other. 

“Well,” you say, slowly.  You look anywhere but him. “Something sort of happened.”

When you chance an upward glance, he is looking at you very studiously.   

“Sort of…” he says, looking more confused by the second.  “Did you… sort of… squirt?”

You cover your face, suddenly embarrassed beyond words.  Why did this seem like a good idea again?  You were so convinced a few minutes ago that this was a totally fine conversation to have with your friend.  Now you want the floor to open up and swallow you whole. 

You make a miserable little sound into your palms and Jeongin finally laughs.  His whole face crinkles with delight and he laughs so hard that it sounds like he can barely breathe.

“Don’t laugh at me!” you wail. 

“I’m not, I’m not,” he lies, because he is laughing his ass off while he says it.  “Come on, it’s fine.  Stop hiding.” 

He reaches across the counter for you.  You jerk away, mewling pathetically, which just makes him laugh again.  He eventually uses both hands to peel apart your death grip.  You still avoid his gaze, staring down at the counter, but he dips his head to chase your eyes. 

“There you are,” he says when your gazes meet.  “Crazy girl!  Ask me again.” 

“I forgot the question,” you say, petulant.

He snorts.  “I didn’t,” he says.  “You wanted to know if I ever made a woman—”

“Yes, I know what I asked!” you say, shaking your head.  You see him smile, a giant grin of immense amusement as you tug at your cheeks in distress.  “I’m sorry I asked.  It’s just that…”

“Something sort of happened?” he supplies when you trail off. 

“Technically,” you say, “something sort of didn’t happen.” 

“Ohhh.”  He returns to looking bashful, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Were you… with… someone?”

“Mhm.”  You both look at the kitchen counter while you speak.  “I had a date.  I planned the whole thing out.  You know me, I like a plan.”  You try to laugh but a flood of humiliation washes over you, the recollection of last night and how everything went so, so wrong.  You close your eyes and sigh.  “Ugh.  It was going well so I brought him back to my place.  Things got heated.  He said he was really good at… doing that… I said I had never done it before and he got excited and said I would like it.  I think I just… thought about it too much.  You know me!  I like a plan!  That wasn’t the plan!  Anyway, we put a towel on the bed which is why it was even more embarrassing when I couldn’t… when he couldn’t make me… ugh.”  You flop forward, pressing your forehead to the cold marble countertop.  “He called me high-strung and left.” 

You lift your head slowly, looking at Jeongin for his reaction.  His expression is all scrunched up like he smells something bad.  Then he gestures as if he is vomiting, making the noisy hurling sounds to match. 

You laugh in spite of yourself, nodding.

“I know, I know, you’re right,” you say.  “He sucked.” 

“High-strung?” Jeongin says, the word tumbling out like a curse.  “He said that?  Pffft—” 

You are glad you came to him.  Your other friends would have been protective and encouraging, which is nice, but Jeongin’s helpless laughter is more reassuring than anything.  That other guy was so pathetic that all Jeongin can do is laugh. 

Even so, you do feel a little sensitive about the whole thing.  You are smiling now but your gaze stays low.  You trace circles on the counter. 

“I know he… he was just embarrassed too.  He was rude to me, but… he wasn’t totally wrong.”

“No,” Jeongin says, shaking his head.  “No, no, no—”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you insist.  You let him take your hands and squeeze, but you talk before he can interrupt.  “Look he didn’t exactly handle it well but I… I am a little… um, overly thoughtful at times.  I’m not good at doing things in the spur of the moment.  It scares me and I think too much and once I start thinking I can’t stop.”  You let go of his hands, giving them one last friendly pat before you neatly fold your hands on the counter.  ���Anyway, I asked you what I did because I was hoping you could instruct me so I can practice.  That way next time it happens, I won’t get scared and think so much.”

You smile at him. 

He slowly takes his glasses off, his mouth open. 

“Oh,” he says.  “Okay.  Um.” 

“Soooo… have you?” 

The tips of his ears turn a vibrant red and he puts his reading glasses aside.  He takes a second to rub his eyes with an incredible amount of vigour.  You wait patiently and politely, watching him tug down the sleeves of his hoodie then push them back up.  Those long fingers swipe through his hair once, twice.  Finally, he crosses his arms and nods sharply. 

“Yes,” he says.  “I have.” 

Oh.

The subject of your abstract thought suddenly becomes a tangible reality.  You cannot get the unbidden mental image out of your head: Jeongin, knuckle-deep in the very wet, very soft heat of someone lucky, wringing every last bit of pleasure out of them.  It is unexpectedly easy to imagine yourself in their place, his dark head between your thighs and his steady arm at work. 

You cross your legs.  He notices. 

“Would you mind showing me?” you ask. 

“Showing you?” he repeats, his thick eyebrows high on his face.  “Showing you?” 

“Yes,” you say.  You are so preoccupied with your mental image that it takes a moment to realize your phrasing might be misconstrued.  “Not like that!” 

He jumps in surprise. 

“Oh my god.”  You put your hands over your face again.  “I meant… abstractly.  Draw it.  Or tell me.  I didn’t mean—oh my goodness.”

His ears are still red but Jeongin dissolves into giggles again.   Your mortification works wonders on his dimples. 

“I’m not very good at drawing,” he teases, patting you on the head. 

“Oh my goodness,” is all you manage. 

His laughter is infectious, overpowering your embarrassment until you are giggling with him. 

“I’m sorry,” you say when the laughter finally slows.  You smile, chagrined and apologetic.  “It was a stupid question in the first place.  I’m really embarrassed.” 

“No, don’t be,” he says, waving his hand.  “You can tell me anything.  I was just… surprised.”

“Yeah, so was he,” you say, making both of you laugh again. 

When the laughter subsides a second time, Jeongin sighs.  He puts his discarded glasses back on, blinking his vision into his focus and smiling at you.  After the last few minutes of conversation, that smiles gives you butterflies.  You touch a hand to your stomach as if to still them, but they flutter away. 

“I have an idea,” he says, holding out his hand. 

“Oh no,” you say but take that hand without hesitation.  “Am I about to regret so many things?”

“What?  No.  When have I ever had a bad idea?” he asks while laughing, no doubt in recollection of every combined bad idea your friendship has conjured. 

You can hardly judge him for any bad ideas, though, seeing as you waltzed in here today asking your friend if he had ever made someone squirt.  It sounds very ridiculous in hindsight, but you truly do trust Jeongin so much that the idea seemed reasonable at the time. 

Now you are in his bedroom, hovering by the bedside while he plops down on his bed with a sigh.  He adjusts his glasses and the neck of his hoodie, like this is all protocol and not remotely unusual.  He takes a pillow and lays it gingerly across his lap, then looks up and beckons you forward with the come-hither crook of two fingers.  His smirk is suggestive but playful, just teasing you, but it awakens those butterflies again. 

“Come on,” he says.  “Sit.  I’ll, um, show you.”

“Show me?” you say, eying the pillow in his lap.  “Yang Jeongin, are you… about to defile that pillow?”

“Yes,” he says, nodding solemnly.  “We’re gonna make it squirt.”

“You know when I asked if you had ever done it before, I meant on a human…”

“Wow! I’m helping you with a visual demonstration and you insult me—!”

“Aha, I’m sorry!”  You burst into laughter at the incredulity on his face.   When he pushes the pillow off his lap with a show of dramatics, you wave your hands just as theatrically.  “I mean it, I mean it,” you say, though your laughter contradicts the sincerity of your words.  “Please help me.  I’m sorry, hahaha, I was just teasing, I need your help, please!”

He tries to stand up but you block him, shuffling every time he leans.  He finally grabs your hips to move you but you grab his shoulders.  Your wrestling is a light-hearted tussle, but then he starts tickling you and you stand no chance of survival.  You turn into a flailing, yelping mess, laughing as you spill across the bed with your arms around each other.   He tortures you another second, forcing another apology out of your mouth. 

When it is over, you lay there, panting.  He is leaning over you, his hands on your waist, yours on his shoulders.   Your friend likes to laugh but a very serious look crosses his face.  He looks at you like he is studying you, discovering some detail for the first time even though he has known you for years.  It is like you can feel his stare, a caress across your cheek, across your lips.  You take your bottom lip into your mouth, wetting it.

He takes a slow, deep breath. 

“That man was crazy,” he says.  His voice is lower than before, scratching above a whisper.  “You’re perfect.  He just didn’t care about getting to know you.  And that sucks for him because you—”  His voice breaks, the little squeak making him laugh, a small embarrassed sound.  The tips of his ears are red and he avoids meeting your gaze.  “You’re beautiful,” he says, “inside and out.  Any man would be lucky to be with you.” 

“Jeongin,” you say softly, because what else can you say? 

He meets your gaze.  His mouth is open like he wants to say more but he can only stare at you.  Eventually, he laughs.  He rubs the back of his neck as he sits up straight.  You sit up as well, staring at him while he adjusts his glasses. 

“Right,” he says.  “The, uh, the pillow.  I, um…”

It might have been amusing, watching him poke a pillow suggestively.  But you no longer care about that.  The energy in this room has changed, the whole world melting under the power of his words, changing the very shape of this space.  When you take a breath, all you smell is his cologne, masculine and smoky, all you see is your friend, in his hoodie and glasses with his blushing cheeks, and all you want is him.  Like this.  Right now. 

He reaches for the pillow and you reach for him.  You take his hand and he looks at you, blinking with surprise. 

You turn his hand over.  He really does have nice hands, long fingers, deft and strong.  You measure it against your own.  Then you guide his hand to your lips and kiss the tips of his fingers.  You look at him, making your eyes big, your lashes fluttering. 

“Oh,” he says.  “Oh.”

You laugh.  He cups your face and draws you close and you are both smiling when your lips come together.  Despite his blush, the kiss is ravishing.  You find yourself gasping for a breath, whimpering when he sucks your bottom lip. 

“Lay down please,” he says, speaking against your mouth. 

You nod.  Those butterflies are wild inside you.  You are certain you already look like an unravelled mess, laying on your back and breathing hard. 

He leans over you, catching your hand when you reach for him.  He kisses your palm, your fingers bumping his glasses, making you giggle.  He smiles too, the kiss lingering.  Your whole arm tingles even when he stops.  He guides your hand above your head, curling your fingers around the bars of his headboard. 

“You keep your hands where they are or I'll tie them up,” he says, but laughs at your surprised expression before the words can settle.   “You said yourself, you think too much,” he explains.  “Just lay there.  Don’t move.  Don’t think.  Let me take care of you.”  He puts a leg between yours, pushing forward with his hips to guide yours apart.  He fits there perfectly, pressing his body against yours.  Your breath catches.   “You can trust me,” he says, and somehow that gets you going more than any sexy come-on.

You trust him more than anyone.  You did not hesitate coming to him with an embarrassing story.  You ran to him before anyone else.  You always seek him out first.

You know you are safe in his hands. 

“Do whatever you want with me,” you say.  You never make that sort of offer, but it feels so natural here and now.  With him.  “I’m yours.”

“Whatever I want?” he says, his smile big and dimples deep.   He leans down, kissing your cheek then under your jaw.  When he kisses your throat, it is hot, open-mouthed kiss, all teeth and tongue.  It sends sparks shooting down your whole body, your hips bucking.  He is strong, the weight of him between your legs pinning you to the mattress.  You feel him, firm, hard, his whole body riding the rhythm of yours.  

He has not even undone a single button. 

“Whatever I want,” he repeats.  “That’s a big offer.” 

His hands, those gorgeous hands that had you captivated, slide up your thighs and under your skirt.  He stares down into your face while lifting the material, leaving a trail of goosebumps all the way up your thighs.  You feel yourself clench, a sharp pulse of need in your core.  Your body is thoughtless in its hunger and it feels so good to give into it. 

“Sometimes,” he says, “all I think about this… nothing extreme… just you like this… just us together…”

Every breath of a phrase is punctuated with a kiss, down your chest, your stomach, your thighs.  You are not expecting him to kiss you through your underwear, your hips bucking when he opens his mouth and ravishes you regardless of the barrier.  When you have soaked through the flimsy material, he finally hooks his pinkies into the fabric and tugs it down. 

You do not have time to be shy, just desperate to get them off.  He pushes your thighs back, folding you in half, then goes back to eating your pussy like he has all the time in the world, like there is no where he would rather be.  Your legs shake, your toes curling, body held firmly in his capable hands as he licks you hungrily. 

“Jeongin,” you gasp. 

“You taste like heaven,” is his reply. 

It is so cheesy but it makes you laugh, a happy sound that rumbles in your chest, that couples with pleasure and leaves your whole body singing.  You feel like you could float away. 

You are pliant, soft and malleable in his hands.  He really can do anything with you.  It does not scare you one bit.  You trust him, following his direction when he rolls you onto your side.  You gasp at his hand sliding under your shirt, squeezing your breasts, finding every sensitive nerve as he feels you up. 

“Don’t think,” he says, one arm around your chest and the other sliding down between your legs.  “Just feel, okay?” 

“Mmm,” is your only reply. 

You are so ready for him, wound up from his dirty kisses, taut with tension.  By the time those long fingers are inside you, it feels like completion rather than intrusion.  He fits like he belongs there, curling his fingers against places you never knew were sensitive.  It is like your body gives way, revealing all your secrets to his searching touch. 

“That’s it,” he says when your breathing gets erratic. 

You did not even realize he had found somewhere extra sensitive, not until he is already fucking it slowly.  By the time you realize just how soft you are there, it is too late to brace yourself.  He adds another finger and your body tightens around him.  Your eyes close and you see stars, gasping and rocking and almost crying at the dizzying swirl of sensation. 

“Oh, Jeongin,” you say.  His name is all you say for another minute.  It is the sound on your lips when he moves you, when he turns his hand just slightly, when the new angle sets off a chain reaction of feeling.  You cry out, clenching sporadically around his rapidly moving fingers.  You yank a corner of the bedspread right off the mattress.

Your orgasm seems to go on forever, pulsing and aching and clenching.  Your whole body feels boneless by the time it settles and he slips his fingers free. 

“Oops,” he says, adjusting his skewed glasses with his clean hand.  “Should’ve put a towel down after all.” 

You look down and whimper at the obvious wetness on his bedsheets.   You would apologize but he does not look sorry at all.  In fact, he grins, looking very satisfied with himself. 

You are in a state of utter disarray and he is still fully clothed, having shattered your world with just one hand.  It makes you laugh, giddy. 

Your arms finally drop.  Though it takes a minute, you find a little strength and push yourself up.  He is smiling when you climb into his lap.  He even winks at you when he puts his wet fingers in his mouth. 

You open your mouth too.  You hold his gaze while he puts his fingers in your mouth, his breath catching when you suck them eagerly. 

“I want something more,” you say. 

“Do whatever you want with me,” he echoes your words back to you.  “I’m yours.” 

He is right about the simplest fantasy making for a wonderous reality.  There are no expectations of any over-the-top actions; it is enough it is you and him, together.   Clothing ends up scattered around his room, then you are in his lap and he is holding your waist, and you are holding the bars behind his head as you ride him where he sits against the headboard. 

His glasses get askew but you fix them, laughing against his smile before kissing him again.   It is for nothing because they fall off a second later, when he grabs you and moves, putting you on your back to fuck you at another angle.  He slides a hand between you, rubbing at you, working you up. Your head falls back, your whole body tingling with the approach of another orgasm. 

“Yes, yes,” he says, no doubt feeling you get tight around him.  It is his moaning that sets you off, your legs around his hips, pulling him in close as you come together. 

He kisses all over your face, both of you laughing when he slightly misses your lips.  You find his glasses and put them back on him, meeting his re-focussed gaze and smiling. 

“Was that an okay demonstration?” he teases.  “Like I said, I’m not very good at drawing.” 

“Maybe so,” you tease back, running your fingers through his hair.  “I might need another one.  Just to be sure.” 

“Just to be sure,” he says, nodding very sagely.  “Good idea.  Maybe after that, I’ll take you out to dinner.  Then we better come back here and try again.”

“Just to be sure,” you say. 

“Just to be sure,” he agrees. 

You are already smiling when he kisses you. 

You have never been more sure about anything in your life. 

[ataliagold]

Flowers In Your Hair

For @astrangersummer week 3 prompt 'flowers'. Title from Flowers In Your Hair by The Lumineers.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: General

W/C: 1249

Tags: Post Series 4 Volume 2, Everyone Lives, Established Steddie, Fluff, Soft Steve Harrington, Steve Loves Yellow Flowers, Eddie Loves Steve, El and Max are best friends, summer, this is just softness

Summary: Eddie enlists some help to find the perfect flowers for Steve. Despite his own insecurities, Eddie is learning that his boyfriend loves soft things.

___

“Robin, what kind of flowers does Steve like?”

Eddie was draped over the Family Video counter, having stolen the barely-working desk fan air flow for himself.

Robin paused where she was rifling through the box of returned tapes to give him a confused look. “Flowers? Really?”

Eddie threw up a hand, then regretted it, because that had taken far too much effort in the stifling heat. “What? You think a man can’t buy flowers for another man? You judging me, Buckley?”

Robin scoffed. “No. Just…why flowers?”

“It’s romantic!” Eddie whined. “We have a date tonight and Steve loves that stuff. He might not say it, but he does. On Valentine’s Day I got him chocolates and roses and you should’ve seen his face, honestly if we hadn’t been in public I probably would’ve got on my knees there and then -”

Robin leaned over and slapped a hand across his mouth. “Jesus, enough.”

Eddie grinned behind her hand, and poked his tongue out to touch Robin’s palm.

She snatched it away with a shout, fake gagging behind the counter. “Munson, that was disgusting.”

Eddie shrugged. “You love me, though.”

“Steve loves you,” Robin corrected. “And so, by extension, I’m unfortunately forced to too.” She smiled a little, taking any sting out of her words. “Seriously though, the kids are over there, watch your mouth.” She dipped her head towards the sci-fi section, where Dustin and Mike were loudly arguing over which tape to rent for their next movie night. Max and El were hanging back, Max eagerly trying to explain a movie synopsis to El. Whatever it was, it sounded violent, and El looked confused.

Eddie leaned further over the counter, letting the weak breeze from the fan flick his hair around. “Help me?” he asked, batting his eyes at Robin.

She screwed up her nose a little before responding. “Honestly, I don’t know. You said you got him roses before, right? Did he like those?”

“Well, yeah, but I think he liked the gesture more than anything else.”

Robin shrugged. “Just get him anything, then. It’s from you, so he’ll love it.”

“But I want to get his favourite,” Eddie lamented. “He deserves the best.”

“Well, I agree with you there.”

“Eddie?”

A small voice sounded behind him, and Eddie summoned the energy to turn his head. El was standing behind him, looking a little shy.

“Yeah, supergirl?”

“You wanted to know Steve’s favourite flowers?”

Eddie slid off the counter a bit, straightening up. “Yeah, I do.”

El glanced between him and Robin for a moment. “Steve used to help me and Max with our hair. When mine was longer, we would make daisy chains and Steve braided them into my hair, he even let us put them in his sometimes. We tried to use other flowers sometimes but they did not stay together very well. But Steve’s favourites are yellow ones.”

And that…made sense, Eddie supposed. Yellow was Steve’s favourite colour, after all, but Eddie wasn’t sure where to find yellow flowers. He couldn’t afford much at the florist, and what flowers were yellow, anyway? Sunflowers? Where the hell would he get those?

Robin tugged his sleeve, pulled Eddie back to the counter so she could lean over and whisper, “The Klines have yellow roses growing by their fence.”

“The old Mayor?” Eddie asked with a frown.

“Yup.”

A smile slowly spread across his face.

“There are marigolds by the school field,” El added. “And yellow violas and tulips by the cabin. I can show you.”

And that was how, a short time later, Eddie was snapping off fragrant yellow roses at the stalk where they were poking out between the stark white pickets of Larry Kline’s fence. Max and El were standing further down the footpath, acting as lookouts while Eddie huddled by the fence and took his quarry as quickly as he could.

At the first surprised shout from inside the fence, he darted away, collecting the girls with a grin as he ran past them.

He threw back his head and laughed, roses clutched in his warm hand, Max beaming beside him.

“That guy’s an asshole,” she told Eddie as they jogged away from the house. “Serves him right.”

They couldn’t move too quickly – Max’s bones had healed, but she wasn’t exactly up to a sprint across town just yet. But they made it to Eddie’s van parked around the corner, and moved on to their next stop.

Just like that, Eddie spent the afternoon traipsing along with the two girls. El showed him where to find all sorts of different flowers, and Max went along because where El went, she went. It was hot, the sun baking them from above in a cloudless sky, but Eddie didn’t care – this was for Steve.

By the time they were finished, Eddie had gathered a large handful of flowers in all different shades of yellow and orange, and the girls had wrapped them in some plastic procured from Hopper’s cabin and poured some water into the bottom to keep them fresh in the summer heat.

“There,” El told him proudly, handing over the bouquet while Max tried to find some ribbon in a drawer to tie around it. “They’re pretty. Like Steve.”

Eddie spluttered a little at El’s directness. “Oh…yeah. Yeah, they are. He is.”

El nodded. “Max often says so, too.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Max yelled from El’s room.

Eddie smirked, because the girl’s little crush on his boyfriend was no secret. “It’s ok Max, I agree with you.”

Max stomped back towards them, slapped a length of gold ribbon into Eddie’s hands, and then took El’s arm and pulled her back towards the room.

Effectively dismissed, Eddie returned to his trailer to rush through a shower and getting changed, barely with enough time left to get to Steve’s before their dinner plans.

Waiting in front of his boyfriend’s door, Eddie passed the bouquet from hand to hand, a little nervous.

This is stupid.

Steve Harrington, former jock supreme, once-captain of the basketball team, nail-bat wielding badass wasn’t going to appreciate some yellow flowers.

Eddie almost turned tail. Almost tossed the flowers into the back of his van to be dealt with later, almost gave in to the nerves in his stomach.

Almost.

Because there was a softness to Steve that Eddie was learning to know and love. It was in the way he treated the kids, the way he gently held Eddie’s hand, the way he baked cookies when his friends were coming over and apparently braided flowers into the girls’ hair.

Eddie took a deep breath, clutched his yellow flowers, and knocked on the door.

It opened after a moment.

“Eds, hey, sorry I just gotta get my shoes on -” Steve trailed off as he took in the sight of Eddie standing there, flowers gripped in shaky hands.

Eddie cleared his throat, held out the bouquet. “For you. If, um…if you want them. Sorry if it’s stupid, I wanted to get you something but I couldn’t afford much and El told me you liked yellow flowers so I spent the afternoon going around town and finding them, and the roses actually involved some petty theft but -”

Steve took the flowers with one hand, and pulled Eddie through the door with the other, lips seeking his mouth and swallowing the rest of his sentence.

When they finally pulled apart, Eddie smiled shyly. “You like them, then?”

“I love them, Eds.”

___

[adverbally]

Face to Face in Secret Places

Written for the @steddiesmuttyseptember prompt “sneaking around” | wc: 1,576 | rated: E | cw: none | tags: set pre-S3, established relationship, in public (school library), fear of getting caught, exhibitionism (but no voyeurism), making out, dry humping, oral sex | title from “A View to Kill” by Duran Duran

———

“Ow, shit!”

“Shh, someone’s gonna hear you!” Steve hisses, covering Eddie’s mouth with his hand.

Eddie jerks his head away and whisper-shouts back, “Then stop hurting me!” The Hawkins High School library apparently has extra-sharp shelves, which Eddie knows because they’re digging into his back where Steve has him pushed into a corner in the reference section. “Plus nobody comes in here during class time and Mrs. Wright already left for her lunch break, like, five minutes ago. Who’s gonna hear?”

Steve rolls his eyes as he leans in for another kiss. Eddie accepts it happily, even if he still hasn’t fully come to terms with the fact that Steve Harrington is ditching class with him so they can make out in the library for the third time this month.

Once “King” Steve was dethroned last fall, Eddie found that Regular Steve wasn’t actually bad company. They got to talking after Tina’s Halloween party, where Steve got so shitfaced that Eddie had to physically peel him off the lawn before he could take him home. Their truce extended to their shared classes as the semester came to a close: Eddie proofread Steve’s essays for English, while Steve walked him through the problem sets for Algebra II. They hung out after school when they didn’t have basketball and Hellfire Club, growing closer by the day.

Steve had made a move first, leaning in for a kiss when Eddie dropped him off after a study session around Valentine’s Day. Now, in March, it was looking like Eddie might actually graduate on his second attempt, as long as Steve didn’t get them both kicked out for dry humping in the library.

Well. Actually, that doesn’t sound so bad right now, with Steve’s tongue hot in Eddie’s mouth and Steve’s thigh pressed between Eddie’s legs and the soft noises Steve’s making as Eddie sticks his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and squeezes.

“Eddie, I swear to god, if you make me come in these pants, I’m never touching you again,” Steve says, burying his fingers in Eddie’s hair like he’s hanging on for dear life.

He laughs in Steve’s ear. “As if you could keep your hands off me.” He licks over the moles just below Steve’s jawline to make him squirm.

“Eddie!”

“Shh,” Eddie teases.

Steve growls in frustration and pulls Eddie’s hair until his mouth is close enough for another kiss. He tastes like Eddie’s cinnamon gum and the can of Coke they had shared at lunch. When Steve slips a hand between them to grope Eddie’s cock through his jeans, Eddie’s head buzzes like carbonation is trapped in it.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes against Steve’s lips.

“Mm-hmm.” The sound travels through Steve’s tongue to vibrate against Eddie’s teeth. It’s a weird feeling but a good one, too, one that has Eddie’s hips bucking up and the shelf behind him jabbing into his kidneys.

He grunts in pain. “Wait, wait one second.” When Steve pulls away, Eddie uses the leverage from his hands in Steve’s back pockets to spin them around, pushing Steve up against the shelves.

“Shit, those are sharp,” Steve says to himself.

Eddie doesn’t respond, too busy sinking to his knees on the ancient carpet and unfastening Steve’s jeans.

“Hold on, Mrs. Wright might be back any minute!”

“We probably have ten minutes, at least. And frankly, I don’t think it’s gonna take that long to get you off.” Eddie pointedly looks down at Steve’s cock tenting his boxers through the open fly of his pants. “So be quiet, keep a lookout, and let me suck your dick, okay?”

Steve’s eyes are wide, almost glowing in the harsh fluorescent lighting, but he doesn’t protest. He nods, brushes some of Eddie’s hair away from his face, and watches intently as Eddie takes the head of his cock into his mouth.

It’s not the first time Eddie has done this with Steve, but it is the first time they’re doing it in public (Eddie’s van doesn’t count as public, does it?). It’s a little thrilling, the idea that anyone could come in here and see Eddie on his knees with Steve Harrington’s cock down his throat. It makes Eddie want to show off.

When Eddie pulls back to lick into his slit, Steve lets out a shuddering moan, hunching over and scrunching a fist in Eddie’s hair like he’s in pain.

“Are you—?” Eddie starts to ask, but Steve quickly cuts him off.

“Don’t stop.”

It’s punctuated by a whine when Eddie does it again, lapping Steve’s precome straight from the source. It tastes even better with Steve trying to muffle his cries with the back of his hand, with him staring down at Eddie like he’s something out of a dream. Eddie looks back at him while he mouths at his tip, flushed bright pink with the need to come.

“Eddie, please, I’m close,” Steve begs in a strained whisper.

He squeezes Steve’s hips in encouragement, then he sinks down as far as he can around his cock. Eddie’s not, like, a professional at this yet, so he can’t deepthroat him or anything, but he takes Steve’s dick deep enough to nudge at the back of his throat without making him gag. He bobs his head slowly, relishing the drag and the wet noises and Steve’s unblinking eyes full of awe and desire.

Steve’s hand tightens in Eddie’s hair. He whispers his name like a prayer, “Eddie. Eddie, Eddie—” He goes quiet when he comes, throwing his head back and staring at the dirty ceiling tiles with his mouth wide open.

Eddie holds Steve’s twitching hips in place against the shelf as he swallows him down. It goes better than his past attempts, with much less choking and spluttering involved, but he still has a little come dribbling down his chin when he gets to his feet.

To his surprise, once they’re standing eye-to-eye again, Steve leans in and licks his own jizz off Eddie’s face before pushing it back into Eddie’s mouth in a filthy kiss. It’s probably the dirtiest, sexiest thing Eddie has ever experienced, and it’s happening in the school library. Incredible.

Steve pulls away, still breathing heavily, to ask, “Did you come?”

Eddie grinds his still-hard cock against Steve’s hipbone. “Not yet,” he responds, a little pointedly. “But unlike you, I don’t care if I come in my pants.”

“Great, that’s great,” Steve babbles, already going in for another kiss and propping his foot on the lowest bookshelf so his thigh is in a better position for Eddie to ride. His leg fits between Eddie’s like it was made for him, the thick muscle surrounded by soft-worn denim providing the perfect amount of friction when Eddie’s hips start to rock.

Steve cradles his face and kisses him with a gentleness that’s at odds with the frantic rutting of Eddie’s hips. They haven’t had a big discussion about their feelings yet but it’s almost like they don’t have to, not when Eddie can feel Steve’s care and affection in every touch. He tries to kiss Steve back with the same intensity, like Eddie can telepathically project how much he likes him with his mouth.

It’s not long before Eddie’s rhythm starts to falter. Steve whispers, “C’mon, baby, come for me,” and Eddie is helpless to resist when Steve’s looking at him with his eyes like liquid honey and his lips shiny with Eddie’s spit.

He buries his groan in the crook of Steve’s neck, biting at the skin just below the collar of his shirt, while his cock spills in his boxers. Steve cradles Eddie’s head against his shoulder and gently runs his fingers through Eddie’s hair while he catches his breath.

Once his heart rate settles, Eddie jokes, “Maybe I should’ve cared a little more about coming in my pants.” He’s sticky and damp enough that he’ll probably skip the rest of his classes for the day so he can go home and change.

Steve tucks himself back into his pants with a smug look. “I tried to share my wisdom and you rejected it. Now you’ll pay the price.”

“Are you going back to class?” Eddie asks. He hopes Steve picks up the underlying invitation to ditch with Eddie.

He tilts his head with a grin. “Geez, you’re clingy,” he teases. “If you don’t want to be without me for the rest of the day, just say so.”

“Mm, how about every day?” Eddie pecks him on the lips.

“I think I could make that work,” Steve says, looping his arms around Eddie’s neck for a final, lingering kiss before they sneak out of the building. “Your car or mine?”

Wayne is home and Steve’s parents are out of town, so it’s a no-brainer for both of them. ”I’ll drive us to your house?” Eddie suggests.

“It’s a date.” Steve smacks his ass as he turns to go out the side door, making Eddie jump. “You better get going if you don’t want to get caught in the hallway between classes.”

“Meet you out there.”

Five minutes later, they’re giggling together in Eddie’s van, giddy with the feeling of getting away with something and being alone together and tangling their fingers together on the gear shift. Eddie can’t stop turning to look at Steve’s face, scrunched up with a smile, and thinking about how much he wants to have this every day for the rest of his life.

[themillsdaughter]

a privilege I deprive myself of

Synopsis: you would rather chew glass than see Melissa yearn for something and not have it delivered to her. the thing, however, is that your life is a shitshow, and what was meant to be an act of kindness upends any effort you've made throughout the years to keep your feelings hidden.

or slightly insecure! Melissa and traumatized! reader in a Valentine's Day au inspired by this prompt.

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: Talks of body image.

Also, my first time dabbling in this fandom and character, so... Hope you like it!

This isn’t ideal.

Valentine's Day has never been your favorite. Truthfully, you think it’s only yet another excuse for Capitalism to suck some extra cash out of millions of pockets.

You’ve thought this your entire life, regardless of being in a relationship or not. The thing, however, is that you live in a capitalist society and escaping the emotional reliance on the holiday is damn near impossible. So, throughout the years, you’ve come to terms with at least doing something for partners on the day.

Well, that is, until you’d walked in your apartment one day and found your girlfriend straddling a woman you’d never seen before.

This year, you’re single, so the whole thing had just slipped into the background, a red and pink festival more than anything else, really.

“You’re not doing anything?” Janine had asked a few days before in the teachers' lounge, brow furrowed, pity shining in her eyes. Dear God. “You know, Galentine’s Day is really popular now.”

“Honey, I barely want to celebrate the day when I have someone. Why would I make a fuss now that I have an out?” You’d gone back to grading, trying your damnest not to roll your eyes.

“Well, Tariq used to be like that, too. Even though we were together. Sometimes he would forget and go on trips, and those times were pretty lonely… You know, with all the hearts and chocolate and candles and couples around. Not that that’s the case this year, you know. I’m with Maurice, and he’s super attentive.” Her uncomfortable fidgeting had made her chair squeak. As sweet as she is, she should really learn how to stop projecting. “Anyways, I just worry about you. I don’t want you to feel lonely.”

“I don’t.”

“She doesn’t.” Melissa had said, at the same time as you. Looking up from the papers, you’d shared a grin with her. “She has enough wondering thoughts to keep her company.”

Finally, you’d given into your urge and rolled your eyes.

So this really isn’t ideal.

“I think this one is too tight, though.” The voice coming from your phone said. You turned the heat from the stove down, placed a half-lid over the pan, and picked up the device from the counter. On the screen, you saw something that made you pull out a stool from your island and thank God that the woman on the other side of the line was too busy looking at herself in the mirror, brows furiously furrowed, to notice.

Melissa had her hair up in a messy bun, her old pair of glasses hanging in the middle of her nose, and a dark red dress on that stole the breath from your lungs.

The material was soft, with satin-like finish, puffy long sleeves, a square neckline that showed her cleavage to perfection and a skirt that hit her a few inches above her knees.

Nervously, her hands tried to smooth over the creases formed on the dress by her belly.

“Maybe I could wear some spanks” she sighed. “It’s too tight, right?” She turned back to where the phone was, asking you directly.

For a few seconds, you struggled to think of something other than ‘uh’ to say. Melissa is stunning and, in those moments, you wished you’d been braver back when you’d had the chance. Maybe, she’d be asking Barbara this, getting ready as a surprise for you, not for somebody else. 

In a breath, you swallowed that feeling, locking it away with all the ones of its kind, somewhere deep, deep in your soul.

“Hun? It’s too tight, isn’t it? Who the fuck do I think I am trying on something like this.” She’d taken your silence as disapproval, and if she only knew you’d only want to see that off of her if you’d taken it out yourself…

“Shut up, will you?” You finally said. “It’s gorgeous, it looks awesome on you.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s the nicest one of the bunch.”

“I don’t know if I have spanks short enough for it, though. And I need something to get this under control.” She pushed her belly in again, and it enraged you.

“Anyone who doesn’t find that hot is not someone you should listen to.” You said, holding back the rant that always appeared on the tip of your tongue when she said shit like this.

Honestly, the struggle of straight men to like women is mind-boggling.

“You might just be too gay for this.” Melissa snorted, going into her drawer in search of the spanks.

“Well, fuck you very much.”

She barked out a laugh, and you let go of your phone to stir the food you were cooking, glad for a break from the glory of the woman you did not love like that.

Which is yet another reason why this isn’t ideal.

You don’t really care for Valentine's Day, but on the morning of the 14th, Melissa had seemed off. You tried touching on the subject while you two got coffee, as weak as Abbott’s brew always was, however, Gary walked in in all of his mustached glory and her attention immediately shifted to him.

He’s her boyfriend, it’s Valentine's Day, it was only logical.

She gave him hint after hint, pushed her shoulders a bit back, highlighting her breasts just slightly, cocked her hips some while leaning against the sink, licked her lips more than usual, everything to get an ounce of attention back. The absolute idiot fussed over the vending machine, mumbled a few words to her, eyes not even moving in her direction, before leaving with a “see ya later” tossed behind him.

The look that had taken over her face then had made your heart sink.

“He’s been like this all week.” She said during lunch break in your car. “Barbara thinks he might be planning something, says he’s not cheating, but I don’t know… I tried fooling myself with getting the perfect outfit, getting my hair and my nails done, but he hasn’t mentioned any plans, and he’s been so fucking distant, he doesn’t even seem like himself. And I really can’t handle another Joe situation.” Taking the last bite of the Shepard’s pie you’d brought her, she leaned her head against the rest.

To nearly everybody else here, she shows her angry, reactive, gray side. It’s easier for her, something that still makes her an outcast, but firmly protects her inner-self. But some magical, all-powerful, incredible being out there had made it so you were the one she chose to show her other side to, the one that is not always confident, not in her worth or her looks or her ability as a teacher.

The one that loves so intensely it scares her, and the one that has so many scars she spends half her time trying to heal them, or, at the very least, stop them from bleeding all over the place and being visible to the outside world.

“What do you think?” She said, bringing you back to the inside of your 2010s Honda. “You’ve always been better at these things.”

“Do I think he’s cheating on you?”

She nodded.

“Well, first of all, if he is, he is an absolute deepshit who doesn’t know how to count his blessing for you even giving him the time of day.”

You looked into her eyes while you said it, and she turned her head after, staring at the Tupperware in her hands. You thought you saw a blush creeping up on her cheeks.

“But I don’t think he is. Hey, maybe he’s just seen Valentine’s Day for what it is!” You nudged her arm with the back of your hand. “Maybe you’re the one who has to get on board.”

She relented a smile then, but it didn’t last.

“Mel, I think you’ll just have to ride this one out. Wait until the end of the day, so then you can actually have a conversation with him. If he really forgot or if there’s really something wrong, you’ll find out, but, honestly, me? I think he might just have some goofy-ass surprise planned.”

Melissa nodded while keeping her gaze out the window.

There’s a beat, then another, and you thought perhaps you’d convinced her, and she was only taking some time to absorb it.

“You know, you may not feel lonely with this kind of stuff, but…” She paused, voice tired, heart bearing all those tender scars, “I think I’m more like Janine than I’d thought.”

So, hm, this isn’t ideal.

You’d be damned if you let a man who didn’t realize the one in a million he had found ruin Melissa’s day.

Even if Valentine’s Day was traumatic for you, even if it was silly and forced and the world would be better off without it, Melissa was Melissa, and she deserved everything she wanted out of life. You’d thought Gary would see it, but if he didn’t, it’s up to you, even with all your emotional limitations.

So you wrote a little card. Nothing much, just made out of a fancier piece of purple paper you’d had lying around the classroom, with a heart-sticker you’d found at the bottom of your purse decorating the front page. Inside, the note wasn’t all that special, just enough for her to know she would never be alone. That you loved her. That she’d always have you, even if one day she didn’t have anyone else. That she’s your favorite, and if she wanted to, you’d take her out for dinner yourself.

As a friend, of course. Truly.

The fact she made your chest inflate and your pressure drop and a flock of butterflies run a full marathon in your stomach were not things that were included.

After sending the students home, saying goodbye to everyone else (Gregory and his Legos, Janine and her designer bag she knew nothing about, Ava and her many flings and Jacob and his slam poetry), you’d walked to the lounge, where you’d seen Barb and Mel walking towards only a few minutes earlier.

On the way there, you’d seen a bouquet of gerberas discarded on the hallway floor. You’d wondered if a poor kid had gotten broken up with on that day of all days, or if the bouquet held any card of its own. You’d picked it up, deciding to bring it to the compost pile later.

You hadn’t realized how it looked until it had been too late.

“Hey, Mel, I have something for…” You’d started, rounding the corner to enter the room.

“I love you too.” She’d said, looking into Gary’s eyes. In a split second, you’d registered there was something off about her voice, something lacking.

And now here you are, in this less than ideal situation.

All three look at you, standing in the doorway with a card and flowers, calling after another person’s girlfriend. Shit.

“What do you have for her?” Gary’s hand tightens on her waist just so.

So, yeah. Not fucking ideal.

“Hey, look at that. I uh…actually forgot the… ah… The book I was lending you.” You mumble. Spinning on your heels, you walk as fast as humanly possible without breaking into a sprint.

Stupid-ass, invented, asinine holiday.

******

You’re more than half-way through a bottle of Merlot when your doorbell rings.

“Fucking finally!” You shout, jumping from your couch, your belly clenching painfully. Opening up your front door, though, your shoulders drop. “You’re not Postmates.”

“No, I am not. You know what else I also am not? Enjoying this beautiful night with my husband.” Barbara floods you with words, walking past you into the living room.

“Why is that, exactly?” And maybe you’re starting to get drunk, because she seems furious with you, and you can’t remember the last time that ever happened.

“Because I cannot possibly enjoy what was supposed to be a romantic moment with Gerald when I get a desperate phone call from my best friend’s partner asking me if I know where she is.”

It’s too many words too fast, so you sit back down and blink hard, trying to focus.

“What are you talking about?”

“Gary called me. He doesn’t know where Melissa is.”

Melissa. Suddenly, the reason you’d started drinking comes back to you. Shit. Shit shit shit.

“Have you seen her?” Barbara seems to take pity on you, be it for your drunkenness or the way your face scrunches up at the name.

“Not since this afternoon, no. What happened?”

“Gary says she went after you, came back in a different mood. Then they got into an argument in the middle of dinner, because she didn’t seem to be enjoying it, which is strange considering she spent the day worrying he wouldn’t do anything special, as we both know.” She sits down on the futon in front of you. “He says she broke up with him right then and there, and left.”

What?

“What?”

“I don’t understand it either. What did you say to her in the hallway?”

“Nothing, I didn’t talk to her in the hallway, or at all.”

Barbara looks away, shaking her head with an incredulous smile on her lips.

“You two are… God forgive me, but infuriating.” She turns back, sighing. “Did she text you? I’ve called and called, but she hasn’t picked up. She’s not at her house, either.”

“I don’t know.” You pull your phone from the middle of the cushions. “It’s been on focus mode the whole night, I only got notifications for my food.”

“Can you try her? Maybe she’ll pick up if it’s you.”

“You’re starting to freak me out.”

“Yes, well, at least we’ll be on the same page.”

The line rings three times before going to voicemail. Then, there’s someone pressing your doorbell again. Your stomach aches.

Again, not Postmates.

“You’re an asshole!” It’s the first thing out of Melissa’s mouth. As the second person today pushes her way into your home, Barbara jumps up from her seat.

“You’re alive, you’re whole?” She turns Melissa over, taking advantage of the woman’s confusion at seeing her here. “Are you stupidly drunk?”

“Uh… No. Why…”

“Are you going to make any decisions that might land you in jail?”

“No.”

“Thank you, Jesus!” Barbara shouts, letting go of the redhead, lifting her hands in praise, and walking to the door. “Please, resolve your issues and let me have my steak in peace. I’ll call your boy-“ She looks Melissa over. “I’ll call Gary, let him know you’re okay. Goodbye. Also, you’re both on probation until further notice.”

She closes the door behind her with a bang, and the two of you are left alone, staring at each other.

Her make-up is smudged, as if she’d been crying, and that beautiful, beautiful red dress shines under the light. The vision worries you at the same time it sets the butterflies off.

Once more, with feeling: this is not ideal.

It feels like forever goes by, just like this, with neither of you moving or speaking or looking away.

Until she unclenches her fist, and you see your card, the one you’d lost on your rush to leave.

“You couldn’t have picked a better moment?” Melissa asks, placing the piece of paper on your entrance table. Her anger, so explosive moments ago, is low and dangerous now, simmering with the hurt in her eyes.

“Listen, I know how it looked-“

“Any other moment.” She keeps going, incapable of stopping now that she’s started. “Maybe one of the endless times when we sat on that fucking couch watching those boring movies you like. Or… Or maybe one of the nights when we spent hours pouring over project ideas or education strategies. Or really any other time before I made the decision to move on.”

Her heart is there, right in front of you, in the tears that drown the gorgeous green of her irises. Somehow, you feel like this is the cataclysm of thoughts and words and feelings you had both held back for years. 

“What?” You mumble for the second time tonight.

“I found every excuse in the book to avoid this, to avoid looking for someone else. And some of it was true, really. Joe did a number on me, which you know – which is why that just hurt worse.” She points to the card, bent in half and slightly crumbled. “But most of it was crap, and I knew it was crap, but I convinced myself it wasn’t because you weren’t ready, but you are amazing, and maybe it was better to wait just a little longer to see if you ever got your shit together, if you ever got over what that ex of yours did. But you never, ever did.”

“Melissa, the flowers…”

“Yeah, gerberas, my favorites, I know. That was a nice touch. You probably knew he wouldn’t remember that detail.”

“No, Mel, I didn’t buy them.” You step forward, past the table, close enough to reach out and touch her arm, if you were brave enough. You never are.

“What, are you gonna tell me you grew them too?” She snorts, humorlessly. “You know, the worst part is that you encouraged me. You told me to go after him, to let him woo me. Even this morning! You told me to wait for him, just to pull this crap.”

She raises her hand, wipes her eyes, and Christ, what the hell have you done?

She breathes in, and it would be wondrous if it weren’t terrifying, how she puts her heart away, takes the part reserved just for you to see and hides it from view.

“I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know, and this whole time you’ve been leading me on, never really letting me go, no, but still pushing me away.”

In love you with you. In love you with you.

I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know.

It reverberates inside your brain as if an echo in a museum. In love with you.

The person who lights up your days without a fail, the woman who’s made every single potential partner pale in comparison, a staple in your life so important that the mere thought of risking something that could make you lose her had forced you to bury all warm and fuzzy feelings. That woman. This woman. Melissa. Your Melissa. In love with you.

You feel your past is too broken to believe her, but still the thought of her being this hurt is unacceptable.

“Mel, I didn’t write the card to steal you away.”

You risk it now, because you feel her slipping through your fingers, and not seeing her heart when she looks into your eyes makes you feel the loneliest you ever have. You risk reaching over, placing one hand on each of her upper arms. The fabric there is so soft it surprises you.

She flinches, but allows it.

“Just to keep me from giving up, right?”

“You know me better than that.” You try, throat tight. You damn sure hope she does. “I wrote it because you seemed really hurt, and just in case Gary messed up, I wanted you to know you at least had me. You’ll always have me.”

She shakes her head, eyes welling up again.

“What a great pal you are.” Melissa whispers.

“I found the fucking flowers on the floor, I was gonna take them to the trash.” You lose your patience for a split second, because maybe you were tactless, but this is a bit too far, even for such a stubborn woman.

She raises a brow.

“I’m not trying to cover my ass.”

“’You’re the person I think about the most’” She quotes the card. “Did you mean that?”

“Of course.” You say without a thought.

“As a friend?” She challenges.

No. Yes. Maybe. It’s on the tip of your tongue.

If you risk this next step, will you lose her eventually? Like you have every other woman you have loved like this? Will you lose yet another person, yet another soul you feel you can rest beside?

You let your hands travel down slightly.

“Mostly.” She breaks eye contact, frowning. “I cherish our friendship so much, Melissa. But part of me wanted to say more. To say things that weren’t purely platonic. I didn’t mean to steer you around.” You sigh. This is… a lot. “I want to see you happy, Mel. More than anything in the world, you deserve that. And I just felt like allowing myself to feel all those things for you would jeopardize that. You’re an explosive, hot-headed, weird, outlaw Italian with a great mind and a huge, huge heart, and you’re definitely too good for me.”

She shakes her head again, but looking at those amazing, gorgeous, breathtaking green orbs, you find a glimpse of that other side of hers, even if the tears are still there, hiding underneath the surface.

“Today, I only wanted to make sure you would be okay. And I’m sorry about the misunderstanding. I truly didn’t want to ruin that moment for you.” Finally, you reach her hands, and she holds yours back. You fit. “And I have only ever encouraged you to go out there because I really believe you deserve to have the fullest life you can possibly have, and that’s probably with someone… less damaged. Someone good and kind. Someone like Gary.”

Melissa mumbles to herself in Italian.

Forse sarebbe più facile.

“But I don’t love Gary.” She says simply, in English, relaxing into your touch, sending your blood pressure through the roof.

I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know.

“I know.” You say.

You had seen it in her eyes when she’d returned his declaration earlier, the emptiness, the masking, the guilt for lying. She wanted to love him so badly.

She’d looked at you back then and, for a split second, before the confusion and embarrassment that had followed, she’d seemed relieved, as if saying there’s the one who sees me. And something more.

Now, the something more is clearer.

“I know you’re scared.” She whispers again. “And you always, always try to protect me from these things. Never when I get myself mixed up with family business or get into fights…”

“Well, I trust your right hook for that.” You can’t help yourself. She snorts very, very softly, and maybe there’s hope yet.

“But you always try to keep me safe from this, even from you.” Melissa lets go of one your hands, placing a palm against your cheek. Oh, so that’s what it means to have a heart attack. “But I have never, ever, been afraid of your baggage, you jackass.” The spark of defiance that flashes through her expression pulls a smile from you.

If someone had asked you yesterday if this happening was something you thought possible, you’d have laugh them out of the room.

“I just wish you’d given me that god-damn card before I’d wasted this dress on somebody else and had broken a man’s heart for nothing.”

“Poor Gary,” you whisper.

“Yeah… Poor Gary.”

So, perhaps it’s not ideal, with the tears and heartache and being on Barb’s bad side, but she leans up on her tip toes, squeezing your hand, palm migrating down to hold your neck, and despite not being ideal, it does feel oddly right.

“I don’t give a fuck if you hate Valentine’s Day and you think this is corny. You better kiss me before I lose my nerve, or I swear to…”

For the first time in your adult life, you forgo your mind, trying something with risks that may far outweigh the good. With a tug, you pull her in, leaning down, breath catching in your throat when your lips connect, and you find you don’t give two shits about the risks.

Heaven.

Of course, your doorbell rings not five seconds later. Fucking Postmates.

[ash5monster01]

Can I get Drew Starkey with prompt 2.??

First Love

Valentines Celebration Prompt

Pairing: Drew Starkey x FemReader

Warnings: mentions of heartbreak, fluff, established relationship

2. You find an old love letter from your high school sweetheart, do you reach out?

word count: 2k

Masterlist

Valentine’s Day always brought up old memories. Thoughts to a time that didn’t even feel like you had lived it anymore. So much had changed, things you never really expected too. It’s weird that it feels so much heavier this year. Maybe since it had been ten years. A decade later and your life was not what you had wanted or expected it to be. Which explains why you pull the box stuffed away in your closet out. A layer of dust covering the top and you slowly blow it away as you pull the lid open to memories you hadn’t revisited in a very long time.

It’s the big things you notice first. The pair of roller skates you seemed to live in sophomore year of high school. A stack of year books with worn covers and faded signatures on the inside. A hoodie, one from him that overtime just became yours. Then it was the pictures. So many pictures it made you realize just how much of your life had been intertwined with his. It may have been ten years since but it was still ten years together before. Trying your best to avoid your young smiling face you find a stack of letters, rubber banded together with handwriting that is all too familiar. You knew it maybe wasn’t the best idea to read one, open old wounds, and yet you can’t stop yourself from freeing one of the envelopes.

Hello my love,

Did I happen to mention just how beautiful you looked today. I didn’t hear a single thing in Calc class because you kept brushing that perfect hair out of your face and across those shoulders. All I could think about was the smell of your perfume and wishing my head was buried in your neck. If I fail it’ll be all your fault but I wouldn’t really mind. It’d be worth it if it meant I got to keep looking at you. Just a degreeless loser with the most perfect wife. That’s right, I said wife, because I’m going to marry the hell out of you. It’s my only dream, out of all my successes in life you will always be my best one. Remember that.

Love Drew

The tears that spring to your eyes are not intentional. It was just that you had almost forgotten just how much he loved you. It was still your biggest regret that you never got to tell him just how much you loved him too. Maybe he had a girlfriend or even a different wife now but that still never stopped you from checking his Instagram and watching all of his latest movies. Which is why you’re so quick to pull up his account and scroll through the posts. He had grown up so much. He wasn’t that young 19 year old boy you used to know. He was a man now, a man you had let go of in order to not hold him back.

It’s when you accidentally double tap the screen and the heart appears do you feel your stomach drop. In instant panic you realize you’ve just become one of those crazy exes who still looks at their old boyfriend’s profile. Yet you shouldn’t feel this way. Drew was always your closest friend after all. So in order to make yourself look less crazy or possibly even more crazy, you hit the message button on the top.

Hey, was just reminiscing. So proud of all the things you have done. Hope all is well.

The internal cringe is enough for you to throw your phone across the room and pray that his famed status will keep him from ever seeing any notifications from you. Yet that isn’t proven true when your phone dings with a text from an unknown number on the other side of the room. Nervously picking it up, you prepare for whatever the text may hold.

Hey, it’s Drew. I’m really hoping this is still your number 😅

I got your DM but it feels weird messaging you of all people over Instagram

The second text comes through as you’re finished reading the first one, nerves tingling through your entire body. You hadn’t expected a DM back, let alone a text. Yet here you both were and now you had to face the consequences of your actions. You were the one who reached out first after all.

It’s still me! I would have texted but obviously your number did change

You know how awkward it seems. Texting him professionally as if he isn’t the only person in the world you are most comfortable with. You don’t have time to dwell considering another text comes through.

Yeah, I actually had to ditch it after a crazy fan incident. I would have given you my new one but honestly I figured you didn’t want it.

Of course I’d want it, no matter what you’ll be important to me

You don’t want to come off as flirty but it was true. Even if your relationship had been ten years ago. Drew held your heart and gave you every first experience of love in your life. That never goes away, he would carry those firsts around with him forever.

You home? I’m in town and I’d love to meet up

It’s not the text you expect to come after the one you just sent. Knowing Drew was so close now made you even more nervous. It had been so long. Were you really even ready for that kind of confrontation? Then again you didn’t want him to think you were still all torn up especially after you reached out to him. So you sucked it up and texted back.

Yeah! We could meet at our old place, 4 o’clock?

See you then

And just like that, you not only revisited your past memories, but were truly going to step in it. Ten years ago this was your normal routine and it was weird how getting ready for this still felt so natural after all this time. This time you put a bit more effort into your appearance. If you were going to see Drew for the first time after all these years, you had to look good.

So with your jacket wrapped tightly around you, you find yourself walking to the center of town. The bustle of familiar faces walking along the streets, colors of red and pink covering every storefront you can see. You register completely that you’re doing this on Valentine’s day. The anniversary of when you left him ten years ago. Right in front of the old diner stands Drew, bundled up and holding a single pink rose in his hand. He doesn’t see you approach right away which makes you smile just slightly.

“Hi” you hum out, all emotions leaving you but happiness. You never would’ve thought seeing him in person again would bring you this much peace. He jumps just lightly before his head swiftly turns to face you.

“Hi! There you are” he grins and you can’t help the small laugh that falls from your lips. Suddenly he’s holding the pink rose forward. “This is for you, since it’s Valentines after all”

“Are you asking me to be your Valentine?” you tease, fingers curling around the stem and lightly brushing his own. You can’t believe how long it’s been since you’ve felt his touch. Red covers the boys cheeks as you pull the flower close and take in its scent.

“No, well if you want. Yes, maybe. I don’t know anymore honestly” he flusters out and all you can do is giggle as you take a step closer to him.

“I’ll be your Valentine, considering I have been many times before” you tell him with a smile and he sighs in relief, comforted just as much by you, as you are of him.

“Let’s go inside, I don’t want you to freeze” he says, hand falling on your back and guiding you towards the door. You obey, heading straight for your old designated booth. Drew watches as you slide carefully into your side before he sits down himself.

“Look at you movie star” you grin at him after a moment, taking in his grown and handsome appearance. A fresh blush covers his cheeks as he lets out a soft chuckle.

“I’m no movie star, not quite yet” he says and you roll your eyes.

“Oh please, Drew I see your face everywhere I go. Edits of you pop up on my tik tok now. Who would’ve thought my high school sweetheart would be everyone’s celebrity crush by now” you say, knocking your foot with his and he laughs lightly.

“To be honest it shocks me. At the end of the day I still am the bad guy on my claim to fame show” he says and you just smile, taking all of him in.

“That buzzed hair, been so long since I’ve seen you with shaggy hair. It’s weird how different you look and yet you’re still completely the same” you don’t mean to be sappy but sitting here of all places with him will make you like that.

“Yeah, I kinda wanted to grow it out but with filming schedules I’ve had to keep it shaved down. Maybe after though” he says running a hand over his head and you just grin.

“I can’t wait” and the sentence isn’t meant to imply you’ll be spending time together in the future, yet Drew can’t help but think of that.

“Why’d you reach out today?” he cuts to the chase and the smile quickly falls from your lips. “And don’t give me some classic bullshit response. I want the truth”

And you consider your options before finally choosing to speak.

“Every Valentine’s day I go through our box of things. Mementos of our time together, because if I’m being honest, I’m not really over it. I know I left you but it wasn’t because I didn’t love you anymore. It’s because I didn’t want to hold you back” you saw no point in lying, he deserved the truth. Even after all these years.

“You never ever held me back” he says after he lets your words sink in and you sigh, hands coming up to tug at your hair.

“It doesn’t matter Drew. I know you, you would’ve chosen me over going to LA. Chasing your dream, becoming a superstar, I wasn’t apart of that” you tell him and Drew sighs, taking a moment to think of his next words.

“You were apart of that. You always were, because none of that mattered compared to you. You were always my greatest accomplishment” and the words from that letter ring through your mind.

“Do you still love me?” you finally ask, needing to know exactly what was going through his mind.

“I never stopped” he says and finally a small smile pulls at the corner of your lips.

“Do you think I could be apart of it now? So I stop accidentally liking your instagram posts?” you ask and a belly laugh falls from the boys lips across from you.

“If you’ll have me” he says, hands reaching across and cupping yours into his own.

“Always” you tell him with a grin and just like when you two were 16 and first started to come here, he lifts off his seat and leans across the table to meet you. Searching his eyes you meet him halfway and slowly press your lips against his own. Kissing him like this again for the first time in ten years feels like a fever dream but it was perfect. He was perfect and still tasted faintly of cherries and coffee. He was the only thing you ever truly wanted.

And you got him back.

[cherrywhipped]

what goes down when you…

❤︎ get drunk with your tokyo rev s/o. ❤︎

!!!!!! VERY NSFW ❤︎ including: baji, chifuyu, kazutora, takemichi, mikey, draken, mitsuya, smiley, angry, rindou, ran, izana, kokonoi, inui, kakucho, sanzu, taiju, kisaki, hanma, shion, naoto, wakasa, shinichiro

a/n: just in time for valentines!!😀 had the weeknd’s cover of drunk in love on repeat, so I smashed a bunch of Tokyo Rev ideas I had into this prompt that weren't working as full fics. Some of these I ended up loving a lot (pt 2??*cough*shin) & some of them will probably just stay here. have a wonderful v day & stay safe! if u don’t have a date (like me) buy urself flowers and read these in the bath bc ur fav TR character wants to f*ck you rn <3

— — ❤︎ Baji Keisuke

“No listen! Apparently we weren’t even a couple despite all the times we fucked at the winery? And then it ended up catching on fire?? That’s like the last message, like we don’t even know how Aiden’s contest wine rank—” Baji smashed his lips against yours, ceasing your rambling immediately. “Babe, respectfully, I have no fucking idea what you’re talkin’ about.” He smiled and lowered his lips to your ear. “But, ya know, I could listen to your voice all damn day,” Baji planted a featherlight kiss near your earlobe as he whispered, “…’specially like hearing those moans of yours.” Something about liquor made your usually stoic boyfriend run his damn mouth. His topaz eyes twinkled as you stared at him in shock. You felt his heavy hand against your cheek and leaned into his comforting touch, his thumb brushing over your lips. “Keisuke,” you sighed. “You made me forget what I was saying.” You kissed his hand and lightly bit down on his thumb. “Good.” He sighed as you opened your mouth enough for him to slip his index finger in, another one following the first. You closed your lips around his knuckles and sucked him in, beckoning him further down your tongue until his fingertips tapped the back of your throat. He chuckled softly when you gagged. Baji pulled his hand away from your mouth and stuffed it down your pants to finger you. You could feel the heat radiating from his face as he kissed you firmly, teeth sinking into your lower lip.

— — ❤︎ Kazutora Hanemiya

KBOOM. Heavy rain drummed against the window. Thunder erupted outside your bedroom, followed by a loud crackle, leaving you and your boyfriend completely in the dark. “Aw, shit,” Kazutora huffed. “Well, s’good thing we made a blanket fort.” He giggled and patted around for his phone. You were watching Regular Show in your little cave and playing one of those drinking games where you had to take a shot every time Benson yelled or someone said “whoaaaa,” for example. When the power cut out, you were several episodes in and needless to say, both pretty drunk at this point. “Here, I’ll help,” you say sweetly, fumbling around the wad of sheets on the floor. “hEy, babyyy, watch it.” It took a moment for you to register what had transpired; it seems you pawed Kaz’s lap... and accidentally grabbed his dick. Drunk y/n suddenly had a great idea. “Ohh, I’m so sorry pretty boy, ’m still looking for it,” you feigned, crawling closer to his body and intentionally getting handsy with him. You flipped up his shirt and ran your fingers across the skin of his lower stomach. Your touch danced over the waistband of his sweats, teasing him mercilessly before fully cupping his hard-on. Tora whined. You could barely make out his head tipping back in the dark as you squeezed him. “Mmh, god… y/n, baby, ride me,” his tone made your heart pussy jump, it was a mix of desperate and demanding. Before you could move, he grabbed your ass, pulling at the flesh of your thighs and hips to get you to straddle him. You rolled over onto his lap, french kissing him feverishly. Kazutora sucked at your bottom lip as he pressed your body down to grind against his pelvis, rocking your hips forward and back slowly.

— — ❤︎ Matsuno Chifuyu

The refrigerator was overflowing with Jell-O shots for the party tonight. You and Chifuyu were so ready to impress your friends, having gone all out with a batch of rainbow ones AND a batch of chocolate pudding ‘dirt cup’ shots, complete with sour gummy worms on top….. only for it to get cancelled:( “I’m sure they’ll reschedule really soon, Fuyu. at least these should last a few days,” you comforted your love. “Yeah… no point in letting them go to waste, though. I’m tryin’ some—” Chifuyu made a b-line for the fridge and returned with handfuls of the mini containers. He plopped down next to you with an expression one could only describe as epiphanic. “Actually… Hold that thought, I’m gonna order pizza.” You snorted, “We having a party of our own?” Chifuyu put the shots down on the coffee table. “I mean, why not?? With a pizza box and all these cups we can play…” he paused for dramatic effect, “battle shots!” You giggled and nodded, “Battle ships with Jell-O shots and a pizza-box board, huh?” You smiled brightly. “Have I ever mentioned that I love you?” Chifuyu grinned playfully at your comment and hovered over you on the couch, nose inches away from yours. “Mm, no, never. I think I’d remember something so impo—” you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his before he could finish his sentence. ••••• “A5.” It was the last turn of the game. “Hit, and you sunk my battleship,” you sighed in defeat, utterly wasted after having Chifuyu wipe the floor with you this game. “Woo! I wiiinnn, what’s my prize?” Chifuyu beamed. You crawled over to him and laid your head in his lap, kissing his thighs playfully. “I’ve got an idea.” He shivered and bit his lip. A deep sigh left his chest, relaxing his body as he stroked your cheek. He gazed at you adoringly. “Oh? I think I like where this is going.”

— — ❤︎ Hanagaki Takemichi

You are seated next to Takemichi at his beautiful cousin’s wedding, looking on as the newly wed couple shares their first marital kiss. Michi squeezed your hand before contributing to the growing applause and cheers. He breathed a sigh of relief upon surviving the most stressful parts of the ceremony, and now everyone was just ready to let loose. “Whoa, check it oouuut!” He exclaimed, pointing towards the delicious spread of food and drinks decorating the room. Music blared as everyone helped themselves. Takemichi twirled you around the dance floor a few times, and now you were seated near the mini bar to get your drink on. You two had a toast to yourselves first (what better way to celebrate the romantic scene) and stared into each other’s eyes lovingly. The chemistry was almost the same as when you two had first started dating, the conversation flowing effortlessly all evening. One, two, four… you lost count of how many drinks you had at this point, and your boyfriend was looking pretty flushed himself. You stared at the just-married couple at the center of the dance floor. “They look so wonderful together... I bet,” you began boldly, “they are gonna have the wildest night after this,” you took a sip of your drink and smirked. “Y-Y/n!! That’s such a dirty thing to say,” Takemichi sputtered. “Baby. Don’t play coy like you haven’t said some of the filthiest shit I’ve ever heard.” Your eyes flicked over his flustered expression. You paused for just a moment before leaning in close to his ear. “Tell me you don’t want to act on all the love and romance in the air.” Your hand rested on his face close to the bottom of his jaw. Takemichi trembled, he was visibly caving under the pressure. You heard him swallow hard and nod slightly against your cheek, “I could kiss your lips until they bruise. You have no idea...” he whispered. “That’s more like it. We’ve never really explored having sex in a public place, have we? C’mon, I’ll prove my love to you now,” you kissed his cheek sincerely. “And I’ll let you prove you’re thinking some things far worse than I am,” you whispered and pulled him out of his seat.

— — ❤︎ Sano Manjiro

“SHIT!” Mikey cussed, his quarter bouncing off the table and narrowly missing the shot glass he aimed for. You both had a few shots of liquor in you and the aims were only getting worse. “HA! That one was double or nothing, take two, Mikey~.” You loved playing games with your boyfriend, even if he was the worst loser on the planet and would conjure up absolutely anything to ensure he won in the end. “Noo, wait! One more! If I make this one, you have to take all my shots. If I miss, I’ll take four.” He stared at you with unwavering intensity. “And how’s that fair at all??” You squinted back, lips curving into a pout. “Okay, okay. Fine, here. You get a chance to shoot when I make this shot. If you miss, both of us only take two shots, but if you make it, I’ll take five.” He tilted his head to the side and smiled sweetly. What absolute nonsense. You thought for a moment before replying, “You’re on, babe.” Mikey flashed you a grin, lining up his course on the table. It was a great attempt, you really thought he had it. Somehow though, his quarter skimmed the glass and bounced right back out. “FUCK-!! YOU SAW IT GO IN!” He screeched. “NO WAY, THAT’S STILL A MISS!” Your intensity matched his frantic screams, laughter erupting from you. “Baby! Youu have to take four shots nooow~,” you poked his stomach and arms playfully. “Nuh uh, technically I didn’t miss.” You stared at him in disbelief. “Mikey. The quarter is on the table. Take. The damn. Shots.” He sprinted away from you at full speed, darting towards the bedroom, “MAKE ME!!” You couldn’t believe how childish-... But you didn’t have time to waste and chased after him. You caught up to him and flung yourself at him, effectively body-slamming him onto the mattress. “Sano Manjiro I swear if you don’t take those fuckin-” his hands gently wrapped behind your head, thumbs grazing the side of your face as he captured your lips in a kiss. That asshole. You melted into him, fingers wandering up his neck to grab handfuls of his hair. He swept his hands down your body, palms landing on your ass, pulling you flush against his hips. Panting, you pulled away from his sensual kisses. “Mm, I’m not letting you off that easy.”

— — ❤︎ Ryuguji Ken

“…you do remember where we are, right?” Draken breathed in a low tone near your ear. Yeah, of course, a casual dinner party with his friends and some of his work buddies. So maybe one of his friends made excellent cocktails, and maybe you overindulged. And perhaps, as a consequence, the liquor had you feeling devious enough to try to feel up your boyfriend around a corner where nobody could see to get a reaction out of him. “Mhmm,” you answered confidently. His grip on your wrist tightened as he pushed his knee between your thighs, backing you against the wall. “And you do know what’ll be waiting for you if you keep acting up here, hm?” You whimpered, maybe a bit too excitedly for his taste. Draken tilted your chin up to meet his gaze with his free hand, his brow raised into an expression that read ‘don’t test me’. You blinked innocently and pouted. “I’m sorry daddy. Can I have a kiss?” Ken rolled his eyes at you before answering, “Tch, fine. Just one, then we are going back for a little while longer.” He leaned down to kiss you, his hand softly resting on your jaw and his other hand releasing your wrist to settle on your hip. Just as your lips met, you pulled him close by the collar of his shirt with one hand, the other sneaking its way to his belt, dipping below the buckle slowly in attempt to tease his cock. You felt his body briefly relax before pulling away from you, breaking the kiss in the act. “Mm, you shouldn’t have done that.” He huffed. Without warning, he belted, “Oi, Mitsuya! S’getting late, I’ve gotta get my s/o home. Tell whoever’s left I’m headin’ out.” Your eyes widened in shock that he just announced your exit… and now you had no escape from the punishment you earned yourself. “C’mon, baby, let’s get you home and into bed, ah?” He laced his fingers with yours and led you to the car with a knowing grin.

— — ❤︎ Mitsuya Takashi

“You are so fucking sexy.” Your incredible Mitsuya, the absolute perfect partner, had the filthiest mouth after a few glasses of wine. It was dinner at your place, just some pasta and wine, nothing crazy, but Takashi had it out for you tonight. He beckoned you over to where he was sitting, heavy kisses quickly escalating before you could wrap your brain around it all. “God, you smell good…” he squeezed at your flesh ferociously. “Turn around, wanna taste my dessert,” he breathed, shifting in his seat at the dinner table. “N-no, other way, baby. I want a face full of ass while I eat that pretty pussy,”  his voice was low, growl-like tone making your cunt pulse as you climbed on the table. “Taka--!” you attempted to call to him pitifully. He pushed your dress up and sunk his teeth into the fabric of your panties, pulling them down your leg teasingly. “Spread ‘em wider,” he demanded. “Mitsuya!!” He was being embarrassingly direct. You would’ve been humiliated if you didn’t find it so hot. You slid your knees further apart on the sleek wood, back curving into a pronounced arch to put as much of your pussy on display for him as you could in this position. “Mmm, just like that, good girl,” he purred. You jumped when his tongue swiped along your slick folds, the contact making your legs tingly. He kissed and licked at your cunt before sucking your clit in his mouth. You both moaned in unison. “So good,” he whined in a low tone. “Want more?” he gripped your thigh with one hand and teased your entrance with the other. “Yes, please, Taka,” you mewled softly. You leaned your hips into his touch, and he let out a deep, lascivious giggle in response. “Baby, you’re gonna have to beg a little better than that.” You wished you could see the wide grin you knew was on his face. “Come on. I know you’ve got it in you.” 

— — ❤︎ Kawata (Angry) Souya

Tonight, you ventured to a bar within walking distance of your boyfriend Souya’s apartment. The two of you had as many drinks as you wanted since nobody was driving, the area was relatively safe, and left with confidence knowing if anybody messed with y’all, Angry was more than capable of kicking their ass. Your arms wrap tightly around your boyfriend’s midsection, face pressed into the back of his shirt as he walked, dragging you forward with him each step. “Pleaseeee! Souya, pleeee-,” your incessant cries were cut short by your boyfriend stopping abruptly and whipping around to face you. You flinched at his furious expression, but the words that left his mouth were surprisingly… sweet. “Sure, princess. It’s on the way to the apartment.” Angry took your hand and led you towards the barren park. You playfully danced around him and cheered excitedly, insisting that he push you on the swing. “Fine, fine, but only if you’ll go down the slide with me.” Of course you agreed and the two of you played around for some time. It was now Souya’s last time going down the slide, so you waited at the bottom for him. He let out the most adorable ‘wheee!’ sound as he swirled around to the end of the slide. You saw him laying at the base, slightly breathless, messy blue hair sticking to his forehead from the sweat, and a subtle grin on his usual scowling face. Before you knew it, you hovered over Souya, a handful of his thick hair in your clutches as you leaned in to kiss him. He sighed warmly and pulled your body close, deepening the kiss. “Ready to go?” You asked cheerily. “Mm. Wanna shower with me when we get back?” You caught a glint of mischief in his eyes as he spoke. “Sure. C’mon,” you replied and pulled him to his feet. “Y/n,” he began, and you looked at him expectantly. “…never mind.” Soya shied away from his words. “You sure?” You asked gently, eyes shining in the moonlight. “Um… We should play around like that more often.” He laced his fingers with yours as he walked you back to the apartment. “I love you too, Souya.”

— — ❤︎ Kawata (Smiley) Nahoya

“Oh~? What’s this, eh?” The toy whirred in his hands as he tinkered with the buttons. “Nahoya!!” You screamed. Why was he digging through your stuff?? Even worse for you, it seems that earlier today while you rushed to pack a stay-the-night bag, the mini vibrator you kept hidden in a small pocket in your backpack was overlooked. “So, my girl’s a pervert, huh?” His trademark smirk appeared especially daunting now. You hid your face with your hands. “I—,” you began. Although you and Smiley had some heated moments, being the tease that he is, the two of you hadn’t exactly gone all the way together yet. Tonight was supposed to be the night, you even had some drinks with him to dampen the nerves, but the implications of finding a sex toy in your possession made the anticipation spike back up. “I just, I forgot it was in my backpack,” you winced. “Ohw, why’re ya all pinched up, pretty baby?” His tone softened ever so slightly, “Don’t cha want me to use it on you?” Your eyes widened and your brows raised slightly. “Would you..?” you sucked in a breath, “I think I’d like that…” Your body moved faster than your brain as you slowly crawled towards your boyfriend sitting on the floor. “Yeah? C’mere, then,” he cooed, coaxing you into his lap. His hands tangled in your hair and pulled it firmly enough to cause your mouth to pop open. He quickly brought your face close, stealing your lips and slipping his tongue inside you with a soft groan. You barely heard the sound of the vibrator before Nahoya traced it up your leg, snaking under your shirt and bra to tease your nipple. You moaned sweetly under his touch. He pecked your lips once more before pulling away and grinning. “Heh. This’ll be fun.”

— — ❤︎ Haitani Rindou

Shit-faced at a concert? Sounds about right. You and Rin had been dancing around the pit and waiting for the headliner to start for almost two. hours. He made you get there EARLY because he “didn’t wanna miss the openers.” Bruh. Nobody sane goes to a concert early. You needed some liquor or you were gonna lose your mind. You and Rin smoked beforehand, he had a drink or two already as well, now it was your turn. It wasn’t a super large venue bc Rin wanted to check out an up-and-coming rap artist, but the crowd was starting to swell, the energy buzzing in the air. “Rinnie, you up for a little bet?” You tugged at your boyfriend’s shirt and gave him your best doe eyes. “Mm. Wassup?” He leaned his ear down to your lips to listen to your pitch. “I bet the cost of our bar tab that I can out-drink you tonight.” He perked up almost instantly. “Ohh? You really think ya could, huh? That’s cute.” He smirked and you elbowed his arm. “I’m serious,” you pulled him close to you, lips almost touching. He leaned in the rest of the way to kiss you slowly. “Since you’re so confident, lemme add to the bet,” he started, his hand dropping to the small of your back, pulling you close and brushing his cheek against yours. “Whoever wins… gets to fuck the loser’s ass.” You took a step back and stared at him in disbelief. “Are you deadass right now? …You know you could lose, right? How high did you get Rin..?” He stared into your eyes intensely and half-laughed, “Nah, ‘m deadass serious. Guess I could, but I won’t lose. You’re already startin’ out behind, doll. Best get to drinkin’ if the bet’s on.” His confidence was almost enough to make you change your mind. almost. You sucked in a breath and hurried to the bar to order yourself two drinks.

— — ❤︎ Haitani Ran

“Ran baby!” you called, “What is this!?” You got up at noon and headed to the balcony right off the bedroom for some air, only to reveal a fantastic looking breakfast spread on the patio tables. It was complete with a drink dispenser full of a vibrant orange liquid that very much resembled a mimosa. “My love,” his model-esque figure sashayed down the hallway, then stepped out onto the balcony dramatically. “You know how we always sleep in and miss brunch? Well, today, I brought brunch to us.” He beamed as he gestured towards the table, a soft breeze rustling his hair and kicking up the end of his silky robe. What a strange boyfriend he was, but you couldn’t deny that he looked gorgeous in his own right. You let out firm giggle. “Ran! You didn’t have to do all this, what’s the occasion?” He leaned forward and grasped your chin tenderly. “Oh, I just love you, that’s all.” Before you could react, his lips were on yours, melting you completely. Your hand gingerly grasped his, meeting his eyes with nothing but pure, wholistic love. “How did I get so lucky? I love you very much, Ran. Thank you.” You brought his palm to your lips and kissed it softly. “So, now we’re gonna get drunk… and then you’ll give me the best head I’ve ever had in my life, right?” He smiled blankly. “RAN!!” You playfully whacked his chest. “As if I’d say anything other than yes.” You both moved to the table and enjoyed breakfast, downing mimosas like nobody’s business. “You better understand what you’re in for now, Haitani.” You warned. “‘M not stopping after the first, second, or even third time you cum.” Ran’s face contorted into one of amusement as he drunkenly giggled, “You better not, but after that, I’m taking you to bed, k?” As you crawled under the table on the balcony, a fleeting thought penetrated your mind, could anyone see you? The minute you got a taste of Ran’s cock, however, the thought vanished, and you didn’t have a care in the world.

— — ❤︎ Kurokawa Izana

“How can you just leave me standing, Alone in a world so cold,” Izana sang softly as he played his guitar in his apartment for you. “Maybe I’m just too demanding, Maybe I’m just like my father, too bold,” you sang along with him, admiring the sounds filling the room. Your boyfriend, however, suddenly ceased his playing, gentle laughter interrupting the song. “Baby, I know you don’t sing like that.” He set his guitar aside, giggles getting the best of him. “Zana, that’s so mean, do I really sound bad?” You felt your eyebrows raise in concern. So maybe you weren’t Prince, but you knew you weren’t the worst singer in the world… did you offend Izana’s ears enough for him to stop playing altogether and laugh? “Not at all, you’re just… so cute when you try to sing drunk. You focus so hard that your pretty face gets all scrunched up…” he leaned forward from his seat on the floor to grab your cheeks. He cracked up again upon seeing your face squished into an exaggerated fishy-lipped pout by his own hand. “Izana, you are so giggly tonight,” you teased. “I dunno, guess I’m just in a really good mood.” He smiled softly, hands coming up to wipe tiny tears from his lavender eyes. “Aww, is that your way of saying I make you happy?” You scooted closer to him and poked at his sides, tickling him slightly. He responded between broken laughs, “Hey, you make me very happy, y/n.” There was a sweet moment of silence before he retaliated. Izana moved on your figure, leisurely yet swiftly grabbing your wrists and pinning you to the floor. He hardly gave you a second to protest before he was kissing you delicately. He made you feel adored and desirable in ways you couldn’t have anticipated. You wrapped your legs around his back, the soft, sensual kisses sinking into dark, hungry ones. His grip on your wrist tightened as he pressed his body against you, the two of you desperate for closeness. He broke the kiss only long enough to say, “bed,” before pulling you to your feet and drunkenly guiding you to his room, your lips and bodies inseparable.

— — ❤︎ Kokonoi Hajime

“Where are you, little slut?” Koko’s voice echoed through the hotel penthouse. You held in your giggles as you hid in the gorgeous marble bathroom, hunkered down in the lavish bathtub. “If I don’t find you in the next 10 seconds, I’m gonna spank you till you cry. One...” You let out a cackle. “Kokooooo! My darling, take a bath with me,” your voice carried throughout the suite. You stood up and stripped down to your lingerie as you waited for him to enter the room, opting to sit seductively on the edge of the tub. “Sigh.” Koko stepped through the door, his face decorated lightly with vanilla icing. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth,” he rolled his eyes and sauntered towards the tub. “Tongue out,” he demanded. You did as you were told, delicately licking the icing from his cheek and side of his nose. You left tiny kisses on the affected areas as he complained. “First you finish off MY favorite wine, then you go and hit me with a cupcake.” He clicked his tongue and crossed his arms, sharp eyes boring into your forehead. “Baby, that was a total accident!” You stammered. “Awh, it was an accident~” his lips curled upwards as he mocked your tone. “Koko!! I didn’t know how close my hand was to your face, Hajime, I’m drunk! And I’m very sorry…. C’mon, let’s take a bath, pleaseee?” You tugged at his clothes gently. “Why d’ya wanna have a bath so bad right this second?” He took a step back, heavily lidded eyes fixed on the intricate red lingerie you wore. “Wanna fuck you in the bath, I guess. Seems romantic.” Kokonoi raised a brow, his cruel facade melting. “Mm. Guess it is Valentine’s Day,” he mused. “Tch, You’re damn lucky I love you so much, my spoiled brat. Alright, but first, go prance a little. Get me a drink so I can see the set from the back.” You hopped up excitedly. “Yay!! Yes sir!” You started to head back to the main area before Koko’s voice stopped you. “Hold on,” he paused, “do that again.” You tilted your head to the side. “Do what, this?” you jumped up and spun slightly, all your curves bouncing with you. “Mm. So good for me. Hurry back now,” he teased, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling out a big box of rose petals from the cabinet to put in the bath.

— — ❤︎ Inui Seishu

Hot tears welled in your eyes as you choked back a frustrated laugh. “4th time balls back, you’re fucking kidding me…” you face palmed. Inui stood at the opposite end of the table, arms folded and his gaze fixed on the last two red solo cups in front of you. He was absolutely destroying you at beer pong. Who would’ve thought he’d be so good? You were unbelievably flustered at losing so hard and having to drink so much, but his flawless performance was undeniably impressive… his cool and domineering appearance further flustering you. Inui lined up the shot, and just before the ping pong ball left his fingertips, you hollered, “MISS!!” He flinched and the ball skimmed the cup. You laughed triumphantly. “Tch! Y/n, you cheater.” He rolled his eyes and picked up the second ping pong ball. He shot quickly and it sunk in, leaving one last cup before your defeat. You had only managed to wipe out 3 of his cups:( but you weren’t giving up yet!! You heard somewhere the more drunk you are, the better you get at this game, right? You snatched up the balls and went straight in on your shot, fatally missing both. Inui snickered, a slight smile appearing on his face. “Nice try, y/n. I’ll go ahead and win for us so you can take a break from drinking,” his eyes flashed with a subtle fierceness, bouncing the ball off the table into a perfect shot. Before you could pick up the last cup and remove the ball to drink it, Inui walked over and grabbed the cup for himself. “I’ll take this one off your hands.” You tilted your head. “Why? You won, it’s my punishment,” you inquired. “Little give and take. Let’s just say I’ve got some better ideas of how to punish you than making you drink yourself sick.” After throwing back the cup, he wiped your now nonexistent tears away and kissed your eyelids softly. “So worked up over such a silly thing…” He slinked behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pelvis pressing into your back. He leaned down and brushed any clothes or hair aside to work a hickey onto your skin, kissing your neck and up your face, stopping right next to your ear. He bit the shell of it before whispering, “Wanna bend over for me, pretty?”

— — ❤︎ Kakucho

Let’s just say that you did NOT plan on getting drunk at lunch with your darling Kaku today. You skipped breakfast, sure, but what the hell was in that margarita? You were bewildered as to how one drink could possibly put you on your ass. You were dizzy just sitting in the booth across from Kaku. “Y/n, you didn’t answer my question. Sweetheart, you okay?” He smiled softly at you, eyebrows knitting together out of concern as he reached for your hand. “Uh huh,” you replied slowly. “Should’ve thought about drinking on an empty stomach,” you sighed and squeezed his fingers. The sudden flash in your mind of having his thick hands wrapped around your throat made pleasure pool in your stomach. …Were you ovulating? You must be. First you get drunk off of one drink, now you’re lewding your boyfriend at a restaurant midday. You paused. Before you could even correct your mistake, Kakucho looked at you knowingly. You slowly realized you were clenching his hand hard, and loosened your grip. “Oh, sorry, baby…” The corner of his mouth crept upward, and he raised a brow. “Y/n… why don’t you try texting me what’s going on,” he suggested with a knowing smile. “While you’re at it, I’ll make arrangements for someone to pick us up from here.” You gave him a bewildered stare. “Why not have a little fun, um… day... drinking?” He smiled sheepishly as you giggled. Kaku was willing to take one for the team if it made you feel more comfortable. Besides, it’s not like you had plans outside of each other for the rest of today. You pulled out your phone and began rapid-fire texting him every horny thought that came to mind. 📱[Y/N❤️‍🔥: take me to thebathroom and bend me over the sink :: do I think the server would notice if I sucked your dick under the table :: can i test it out? :: hmph. fine but i need u to choke me in the car, ok?] Needless to say, the look on his face was priceless. 

— — ❤︎ Sanzu Haruchiyo

The club. It was ridiculously dark in the room, you could hardly see flashes of Sanzu’s vibrant eyes and his wicked toothy grin in the pitiful blue and purple flashing lights. Somehow, the loud music contributed to your poor visibility and absolutely fueled the fire of lust and love you had for your boyfriend. All you could do is let yourself be consumed by him, fully taking in the feeling of his body against yours. Nobody could see you two making out on the dance floor, the two of you heavily intoxicated and tuned in to each other’s reactions: every touch and moan made your grip on reality slip. Haru backed you tight against the wall, his arms caging you in. Your spine arched deliciously into his chest. His breath hot on your neck, lips dangerously close to sinking into your skin, but he paused right there. He grabbed the side of your head firmly and pressed your cheek to his face, lips tickling your ear as he spoke over the music. “Could fuck you right here,” his voice is low, breathy, and dead serious. “Want to so bad, can I?” His free hand slips between your legs and up your dress… before you know it, his fingers are tapping against your panties, electricity jolting your cunt with each touch. “Uh huh, I don’t care, want you now, Haru,” you whined in his ear. A breathy laugh escaped him before kissing you roughly, his tongue swiping along your own. Sanzu pushed his hips firmly against yours, his feet lightly kicked at the inside of your ankles to make you spread your legs further apart. He aligned your body with his pelvis, effectively trapping you further against the wall. The kiss was broken to mark your neck as his hands hungrily grabbed one of your thighs and wrapped it around his waist, his lanky stature securing your position. You just knew your boyfriend was gonna fuck you so good, his demeanor borderline feral as he bared his pointy canines… it was like he wanted to stake his claim in front of everyone at the club--and you’d sure as hell let him.

— — ❤︎ Shiba Taiju [bar fight/violence WARNING]

There was no denying that your boyfriend was and probably always will be a little nuts, but you loved him for it. You are perched on a barstool, watching the madness unfold with blurry vision. The unfortunate sucker that flirted with you 3 minutes ago is getting his ass whooped by your beast of a boyfriend. You really tried to stop him, but Taiju made up his mind the second he saw that guy put his hands on you. Honestly, seeing him fight for you was as flattering as it was arousing--oops, you meant to think ‘terrifying’... probably. The stupid scumbag’s friend broke a beer bottle and threatened Taiju with it as you scrambled to your feet, backing towards the exit. To your relief, one swift swing of Taiju’s fist and the guy was out cold. Your boyfriend whipped around and stomped towards you, immediately throwing his arms around you protectively. “‘M taking us home.” He breathed, managing to escape the fight with only bruised knuckles and bloody eyebrow. God, he looked so hot. The two of you stumbled out the door. The moment you were out of sight from the people crowding the bar, you pulled him in a searing kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pressed your body against his. Taiju’s strong hands twitched on your waist. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt an intense yearning for you just then, the kiss ending all too quickly for him. “I’ll get us a ride,” you said softly. He blinked at you slowly, his wide amber eyes unreadable beneath his furrowed brow. “Mmh.” Was all he said. As you fiddled with your phone, Taiju’s head lowered to your neck, his forehead resting against your shoulder. He clutched the fabric of your clothes at your hips harshly, a ragged breath leaving his lips. “Give me your body.” His voice was barely a whisper. His lips met your neck passionately as his body enveloped yours. “Tai—,” you gasped when his teeth sunk into your skin. “Baby,” you moaned weakly, “our ride will be here in a minute, let’s get home and then,” you panted softly, “you can have whatever you wish.”

— — ❤︎ Kisaki Tetta

“Hi, my diamond. Enjoying the view?” You knew it was Kisaki by his euphonic tone before you felt his arms wrap around your waist. He pressed his body against your back and rested his chin on your shoulder, kissing your cheek before gazing out at the sea with you. “Yes! It’s beautiful, the water is so blue,” you exclaimed. It truly is one of the most beautiful views you’ve ever seen. Kisaki booked a vacation for the two of you: a cruise with a suite room so luxurious you would’ve mistaken it for a grand hotel room if not for the motion of the ship and sound of the waves. You’ve been his partner for years and somehow he outdoes himself every single anniversary. “Wanna have a drink with me?” He offered, planting another kiss to your face. “Sure!” You practically sang. Kisaki took your hand and led you from your private balcony to inside the suite. You almost fainted at the sight. Before you on the coffee table sat an ice bucket with pink champagne, strawberries, melted chocolate, whisky, soda, and a few of your favorite snack foods. “Happy anniversary, darling.” You immediately rushed to capture him in a giant hug, squeezing him tight and peppering kisses all along his face. “You really didn’t have to do all of this, my goodness. Thank you—thank you so much, Tetta. You really know how to make me feel special.” He smiled lovingly before you captured his lips in a heartfelt kiss. Kisaki poured you both a glass to start, you had a cute little toast, and then, you drank. It didn’t take long for the effects of the drinks to hit you. Between the high of the views, snack spread, and your handsome boyfriend... it’d be a fat lie to say you weren’t dying to get in his pants. “Tettaaa,” you whined. “Will you come cuddle me?” You asked climbing onto the bed. “Anything for you.” He said softly, his figure resting next to you on the mattress. One of the many things you loved about Kisaki was that he always dressed well. That, and his scent is intoxicating. You hummed and began unbuttoning his shirt. “Oh? I thought you wanted to cuddle?” Kisaki quirked a brow with a playful expression. “Maybe I just said that to get you into bed with me..?” You met his intense eyes and ran a hand along his chest, kissing him before he could respond. He pulled away gently, a slight snicker escaping him before adding, “Mm, well, I did say anything for you.”

— — ❤︎ Hanma Shuji

“wanna suck you off so bad, pleeeeaase baby your cock ‘s warm n you taste s’good, I want you in my mouth.” unbeknownst to you, the ‘whisper’ that left your lips could be heard by almost everyone in the room. Your friends gawked at you: some cackling, one mortified, others asking for someone else to repeat what you said because they missed it, and a few too stunned to speak. Hanma snorted at your comment, far too drunk, horny, and amused to be embarrassed. God he loved the shit you’d come up with when you drank together. “Yeah? ‘m going to smoke, wanna come?” His sharp golden eyes met yours, alluring grin beckoning you to join. “Mhmmmm,” you tugged at his arms as you stood up, pulling your boyfriend along with you. A few whistles and hollers rang out as you and Hanma stumbled out the door. Outside was surprisingly quiet. The distant sound of a few cars passing by was all you could hear. You walked down the stairs to the poorly-lit yard and backed him up against a large tree. The bark made indentions on your palms as you kissed Shuji with passion and desperation. You thought about asking for permission, but this time, you just wanted to go for it. He deepened the kiss hungrily, his tongue melting into your mouth. Hanma nipped at your bottom lip, trailed kisses down to your neck, and bit down roughly. He too was at a crossroads. Part of him wanted to throw you up against the tree and teach you a damn lesson, but a larger, needier part of him wanted to smoke… and watch you try to suck his dick while he did so. “God, won’t even give me a minute to breathe, let alone light a fuckin cigarette,” he slurred breathlessly. “Down, baby. Let me get this started and then you can have your way with me, hmm?♡.” He fished for his pack and lighter as you kissed down his body, your lips latching onto every inch of bare skin you could get, hands deliberately snaking under his clothes to feel as much of him as you could. “Fuckk, baby, you’re gonna ruin me…”

— — ❤︎ Shion Madarame

“GO GO GO GO—YEAAAAAHHHH ATTA BABYY!!!!” Shion belted as you chugged beer from a giant cooler. It was more liquid than you ever imagined could cram itself down your throat. You agreed to go to a frat party with him, of course, your sweet himbo boyfriend wanted to give the college partying lifestyle a shot. Liquor rushed to your stomach and your head at full speed, you swallowed your last gulp and hoped to goodness none of it would wind up coming back up. “HOLYYYY SHIT. Babe. You’re a goddamn legend.” As if he wasn’t already so whipped for you. “Yeah? s’all for you, daddy,” you slurred, feeling your knees buckle underneath you. Shion quickly moved to support your frame. “Oh fuck, baby, let’s get you layin’ down somewhere.” He helped you into the house and pulled you into an empty bedroom. “Here’s some water… y/n, you okay? I didn’t mean to come off as a dick-…ahh-” you pulled your boyfriend into a heated kiss on the bed. “I know, you didn’t. s’just beer, baby. I’m okay! I’ve taken more shots than beer I’ve had now before.” You smiled confidently. “…Huh? Wha-? Oh. I think I get it. You’re still drunk as fuck, doll. Wanna go home?” He peered into your eyes and cupped your face sweetly. “Uh-uh, lock the door. Come fuck me.” Shion’s face looked like he saw a ghost, or like his dreams were about to come true, or like a ghost appeared ready to make his dreams come true. “A-are you for real right now?” He asked, his voice wavering. You didn’t respond immediately, instead opting to pull him in to a sultry kiss, licking his tongue with your own, pulling away to bite on his bottom lip. “Oh, I’m for real.” You whispered, a handful of his hair clenched in your fist. Shion moaned breathily and hurried to go lock the bedroom door. 

— — ❤︎ Tachibana Naoto

It was so dark tonight. You could only see two things: a faint red hue from the stoplight flooding into the car, and Naoto’s lap. Going out to dinner, you’d both usually have one drink or so, but this time, you talked your boyfriend into being your DD and got a little sloshed. He didn’t mind, though. He loved your raw confidence when liquor was added to your system. He’d get you back safe and take some shots when he got home, no sweat… right? “Fuuuck, baby, slow down,” he rasped, words mixing with moans catching in his throat. “I-isn’t this kinda dangerous?? We are only 5 minutes awAy-aaHh~” Naoto whined as you freed his cock from his slacks. “Nope. Want it now,” you stated flatly, hardly missing a moment before focusing on swallowing his dick. Your lips glided smoothly down his shaft, nose recklessly smashing into Naoto’s lap, his tip jutting against the back of your throat. You set a rigorous pace, hellbent on milking him and tasting his cum as quickly as you could. The light flicked to green. He moaned pitifully and tried his best to focus on driving, easing his foot off the pedal. He could lose control to you, but he would not under any circumstances lose control of the car. “Y/n, fuck,” he grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you back roughly. “Slow down. Just a little,” he begged, “…please.” You found Naoto’s feeble attempt to take some control back in this situation to be adorable. You love your boyfriend and you know he can take charge when he means it, but you also know when he’s enjoying being at the mercy of your power. You moaned in response and licked the tip of his cock slowly, stroking the base with your free hand. “Mmh, just wait until I get you home,” Naoto lamented breathlessly.

— — ❤︎ Wakasa Imaushi [rough WARNING]

“Shhhh, shh shh,” Wakasa shushed you softly from underneath your skirt. “Just wanna taste,” he whispered, breath tickling your thighs. Waka had been an absolute menace at the bar all night: kissing your neck, slipping his hands under your skirt, teasing your pussy as you sat on a barstool in a puddle of slick, devouring you with his bedroom eyes as you took another shot together. And to make matters worse, the more he drank, the more bold he became. As if he wasn’t already too much to handle sober. He was so fucking smooth, too, nobody suspected a thing. Waka pretended to be a nonchalant, good boyfriend, helping his wasted babygirl get to the bathroom safely. In reality, he was an animal ready to sink his teeth into you. He made a soaking, shaking mess of you, teasing you to the point of having jelly legs, and lured you to the bathroom so he could continue to torment his prey. “Waka, you’re so cruel,” you whined, tears pricking your eyes. “I don’t want you to tease me, I want you to fuck me, damn it,” you choked, trying to be firm and not to let any frustrated tears slip out. “Come again?” Imaushi pulled away from your legs to look you in the eyes. His stare was beyond intimidating, it was narrow and threatening. You blinked several times. “I said I wanted you to fuck me,” you replied cautiously. “Oh, baby, you should’ve said so sooner if that’s what you wanted.” He cooed, his voice sugary sweet, a little too sweet for your comfort. “But baby, you should be careful what you wish for.” In what seemed to an inebriated you as one swift motion, he stood up, snatched both your wrists in one hand, spun you around and pushed your chest against the bathroom counter. 

— — ❤︎ Sano Shinichiro

“More,” you panted heavily. “’K, hurry up ‘n get this off,” Shinichiro slipped his hand underneath your cropped cardigan, half-yanking the sheer material to the side to plant a hickey on the top of your breast. You hastily untied the top and slipped it off your shoulders to give him a full view of your tits in your tight dress. Your hips circled his lap, desperately grinding against him. The windows of the car began to steam up as your body temperatures rose. The two of you went bar hopping and ended up too drunk to drive home. While you waited for a friend to pick you up, things got more than a little heated in the back seat. “Fuck...” his chest heaved against yours, dexterous hands gliding up your back to unzip your dress. As soon as the zipper was down, Shinichiro’s hands snaked under the bottom of the fabric, giving your ass a firm slap before hooking his fingers under your lace panties and sliding them down your thighs. “Mmh, such a perv, Shin,” you moaned, momentarily shifting to the side to get the lacy garment off one leg. “Yeah? I’m not the one desperate to get fucked-” “Shut up, you want it just as bad,” you rebutted, the both of you drunkenly giggling as you climbed back on top of him, engaging in another slutty kiss. Your hands began to undo his belt as his fingers tugged your dress and bra down to expose your chest. He bit your nipple teasingly, wandering touch disappearing under your dress to grope your thigh and play with your clit. “God, you are wet,” he groaned into your chest, long, slender fingers easily sliding into your warm cunt. “S-Shin-!” you whined, “-can’t get it... off,” you huffed between moans and tugged at his pants helplessly. “Hang on. Busy.” He purred near your ear, lips latching onto your neck while he pressed deeper inside you. 

[diodellet]

Sorry to bother you, but for your Valentine's Day event I wanted to ask Jamil and Leona with Prompt 15 please

💌Jamil Viper + Prompt #15 (Ranting about how insufferable they are, but your friend thinks knows otherwise. Bonus points if the subject of your conversation overhears Everything.) ++Reader is not Yuu, slight angst with a bit of comfort at the end

It was only something he said. Offhandedly, matter-of-factly, casually, all those similar words.

Aren’tcha happy to see your little fan?

…Not really. It’s annoying.

Then again, a sharp knife could still cut to the bone. Even in the hands of a careless wielder.

(Even if his cheeks warmed at the knowing glance that his clubmates gave him, seeing the flicker of hurt across your features sent a stab of guilt into his gut.)

Jamil scanned his surroundings. He last saw you duck into the hallway of the third year classrooms. Slowing to a walk, he considered your possible hiding spots. The ghosts kept staff rooms locked, laboratories and offices as well. In fifteen minutes, the doors to the classrooms would also be enchanted to keep from anyone entering. That meant—

…What was an empty coat rack doing here?

He walks past it, brow furrowing in confusion. Your—admittedly admirable—disappearance didn’t make any sense.

A potion? Your Unique Magic?

Just as he reaches the end of the hall, behind him, the telltale sound of a spell wearing off confirms his guess, revealing you in place of the coat rack. He half-expected you to turn and bolt.

Instead, your eyes turn glassy and tears slide down your cheeks.

At a quiet call of your name, you wave off the concern. “It’s true, I’m—I’m annoying, you don’t need to…to justify it.”

Your other palm is held out, stopping Jamil from approaching.

“I know, I should have talked to you properly and let it happen. I just… got scared.”

Jamil hated that, being scared. It led each careful and cautioned move of his. As much as he refused to let it step to the forefront of his mind, fear was a looming shadow. The calculated, sharp-tongued vice housewarden of Scarabia was born from a practiced skill in passing fear off as any other visceral emotion.

…Though you were annoying. Persistent. 

Always just a little out of reach.

His hand closes around your outstretched wrist.

The apology is worded perfectly in Jamil’s mind, but his throat refuses to cooperate. “...look, I didn’t…” When it’s just the two of you, he finds that he doesn’t mind being the sole recipient of your wholehearted attention. “As…as long as it isn’t in front of everyone, I’ll hear you out.”

Another tear rolls down your cheek, and your lips form into a shaky smile.

💌Leona Kingscholar + Prompt #15 ++Reader is not Yuu

“I don’t understand what’s his problem.” You wrench the locker open.

“Well, I am having a nice day, thanks for askin’,” Epel frowns, but doesn’t look up from folding up his training attire.

“Is everyone pretending they didn’t see me getting badgered on the field earlier?” Thank god, you still had band-aids. “Scoot over.” Epel makes space for you on the bench, winces when he sees the scrape on your leg.

“Yeah. This is what I get for trying to play and listen to the captain’s yelling at the same time.” You layer two band-aids. “I’m not even first-string, so why’s he on my case? He should be focusing on you and Ruggie more.”

“Hey!”

“In a good way! I just don’t get why he has to take his stress out on me.”

“I hear you.” He slings his gymbag over his shoulder. “I’d wanna stay and listen s’more but—” 

“Yeah, Vil would wring your neck or something. See you.” You’re focused on covering most of the scrape. Unsuccessfully.

Turns out you weren’t left completely alone.

Leona’s blocking your way out of the locker room. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed. Though he seems to always be frowning, you see a muscle in his jaw tense as you approach.

“...I’m guessing you heard that.” A part of you hoped that Epel would be forced to do penalties with you, he technically was a co-conspirator in your shittalking as the listener.

“Hmph, if you have such a problem with me running the team, then you might as well hand in your jersey right now.”

No way—is what you’d say if you had no shame. But you, mediocre as you are, fought tooth and nail for a spot on the Spelldrive team.

But he’s right. Your hand tightens around your bag strap, protecting its contents. The only marker of your effort. “I'm only…It won’t happen again.”

You’re burning. From shame, from frustration. Why would he take notice of you?

At that minute gesture, Leona steps aside. “Guess I was wrong to think that you could handle some tough encouragement.”

“Encouragement?” A satisfied grin stretches across Leona’s features. “No, no—training’s over. I don’t need to listen to y—this.”

“Now, hold on a second there.” It’s unfair how the authority in his voice is enough to pin you in place. “Next Monday, you’re running twice as many laps for warmups.”

a/n: ahaha this is sooo late... sorry 🙇‍♂️(girlie didn't think she'd struggle this much tryna figure out leona's character in a reader-insert way, this is my karma for making fun of housewarden stannies 🤧🤧) i hope it was an enjoyable read nontheless, i tried to spice up the interpretation of the prompt, make it a seat-grabber or sumn along those lines ahahaha NEways! have a (looks at scrawled writing on hand) happy summer! 💕💕

[fluentmoviequoter]

for the valentines prompts i feel like “could you have found a bigger teddy bear?!” and “i don’t know what kind of wine you’re meant to have with takeout, so i got both.” gives me such big tim vibes like it’s the first valentines as a married couple (or just couple in general) and tim ends up having to work a little bit of overtime causing him to be late so the teddy bear with wine and takeout is his way of apologizing

You're so right, those absolutely have Tim vibes. He'd be so apologetic and sweet about it! This is the first Valentine's Day as a couple in general. I hope you enjoy and Happy Valentine's Day!🤍

Warnings: alcohol (mentions wine and glasses), brief angst, lots of fluff!! 1.4k+ words

The First (of Many?)

The first Valentine’s Day is special and stressful in a whirlwind of love, fear that something will go wrong, and your valentine. So, when Tim offered to take care of everything for your first Valentine’s Day, promising to make it perfect, you agreed.

“I really don’t mind doing something, if you need me to. I know you’re busy,” you offer.

He looks into your eyes, laying his hands on your shoulders. “I just need you to be there. I promise to make it special. I’m hoping it’ll be the first of many.”

You smile up at him and reply, “I am too.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When you return home on February 13th, Tim is waiting for you. He has to work on Valentine’s Day, but he has the night planned from the moment he gets off work. 

“Hi,” you greet quietly.

Tim stands, pulling you into a hug. “Hey.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I can’t visit now?” Tim raises his brows, a faux challenge.

“I suppose,” you hum, clutching his shirt. “But it’s a good thing I like seeing you.”

“That is a good thing.”

You lead Tim inside, and he lingers by the doorway to talk while you change and wash your face.

“What happened?” you ask.

“Why did something have to happen?”

You lean out of the bathroom doorway, your face soapy as you look at him.

“I just- I hate that I don’t get to see you until tomorrow night,” Tim replies.

“Tim, you’ve done so much to make the night perfect. I love seeing you, too, but the time that we do get is what matters.”

“You start writing cards for Hallmark?” Tim teases.

You shake your head, trying to move around Tim as you exit the bathroom. He grabs your waist, tugging you against him.

“I love you,” he says.

“I love you. And now you have a lot to make up for.”

Tim laughs, moving his arms around your waist to kiss you.

✯✯✯✯✯

While Tim finishes working on the 14th, you spend some time cleaning his house for him. Last night, Tim offered to let you get ready at his place to relax for the afternoon before he picks you up, and you accepted but wanted to do something nice for him. As it gets later, closer to the time Tim is supposed to be home, you get ready. Dressed in a beautiful new outfit that makes you feel amazing, your hair styled perfectly, and a smile as you anticipate your first Valentine’s Day with Tim, you grab his gift and sit at the table. Waiting for him to get home quickly becomes your least favorite part of the day.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim is about to leave the station when he gets a call. As his phone rings, the radio on his desk crackles with static before the line clears. He wants to see you and spend the evening with you. All he wants to do is change and drive to his house, but he has to answer this call first.

“Calling all available units to Redondo Boulevard and Washington Boulevard. 7-Adam-15 requesting backup; shots fired.”

Being the good cop that he is, Tim responds to the call. He wishes he had enough time to call you and let you know he will be a few minutes late. Or, at least, he hopes it will only be a few minutes.

✯✯✯✯✯

You have no calls or texts from Tim, but it’s an hour after he was supposed to be here. You stand from the table and walk toward his spare bedroom, sighing as you pull your bag toward you and reapply your lips gloss, hoping that he’ll be home soon.

✯✯✯✯✯

Two hours of overtime later, Tim finally gets in his truck to go home. He grabs his phone to call you, but it’s dead. Tim tosses it in the passenger seat and hits the steering wheel. His apology needs to be good; he promised a perfect night, and there’s only a slim chance of saving it. Maybe Tim can save Valentine’s Day and make it a special night, even if it’s not the night he originally planned to have with you.

Driving to your favorite restaurant for takeout, he stops in a small 24-hour store and hesitates as he walks down the wine aisle. After picking two bottles, with no clue about what he’s doing, he gets distracted by what seems to be a life-sized teddy bear. 

“Can’t hurt,” he mumbles, pulling it over his shoulder to carry it.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your Valentine’s Day has turned into more of a self-care day. You’ve ditched your new shoes, stowed them in your bag, and are now sitting on the couch. A cheesy romcom is playing on Tim’s television while you try to forget about Tim. Unable to decide if you should worry about or be mad at him, you’ve chosen indifference until you hear from him and can decide how to react based on his explanation for leaving you alone on Valentine’s Day.

Just as the male lead in the movie proclaims his undying love, Tim’s front door opens roughly, hitting the wall behind it as you look over. Tim enters with several items in his arms, and you can’t choose what to look at first. An oversized teddy bear is hanging on the floor as it slips from his grasp, and two bottles of wine and a bag of takeout are balanced skillfully in his hands.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, nudging the door closed as his eyes stay trained on you. “I’m sorry; there was a call for backup, and it ended up taking longer than I expected, and then my phone died. So, I got you food, even though it’s not the reservation I had or anything. I went shopping too. I don’t know what kind of wine you’re meant to have with takeout, so I got both,” he rambles.

You stand, rounding the couch as he explains himself. You pull the wine and the food from his hands, setting them on the table as he quiets. Watching you, he waits for a reaction.

“I think as long as the wine isn’t in a box, it’s okay,” you say softly.

“You’re not mad?” Tim asks, his eyebrows pinched as you step toward him.

“Depends,” you hum. “Could you have found a bigger teddy bear?!”

Tim sighs at your pleased tone, and when you grab one of the teddy bear’s paws, he says, “If you’re mad, yes, I can find a bigger teddy bear.”

You chuckle, pulling it out of his arms. It’s nearly as big as you, and you hug it quickly.

“Thank you,” you tell Tim, over the bear’s fur.

“Could I- could I maybe get a turn?”

Laughing, you toss the bear onto the couch and pull Tim close. He hugs you tightly, whispering another apology in your ear.

“Stop apologizing. You had to work; I get it.”

“We’re redoing Valentine’s Day.”

“Tim, we don’t have to. Every moment with you is special.”

Tim nods before kissing your forehead.

“You got my favorite takeout,” you realize.

“Of course. Least I could do after making you wait. Although now that I see how amazing you look, I think we should go out anyway.”

“No, it’s perfect,” you reply. “And I can wear this any time.”

“All the time?”

Pushing Tim toward the table, you sit beside him and enjoy your unconventional Valentine’s Day dinner.

“Thank you,” you say again.

“I am so sorry.”

“I know, and I forgive you, even though there’s no reason to be sorry.”

“Sorry,” Tim whispers.

“If you apologize one more time, I will be cuddling that bear instead of you tonight,” you say, pointing your fork at Tim.

“I deserve that,” Tim responds, failing to hide his smile.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Tim.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

He pulls a box of chocolates and a gift bag from his side, setting them on the table beside you. You smile, sliding a gift box to him as well.

“I also got all of this,” Tim adds, lifting a bag of candy onto the table. “It was already on sale.”

The gifts are forgotten as you each take a few pieces of candy and chocolate, joking about what (and who) is sweeter.

You stand to take the empty containers and wine glasses to the kitchen. When Tim joins you, grabbing your hips and pressing his chest to your back, you say, “If you were wondering, this is absolutely going to be the first of many.”

Tim smiles, though you don’t have time to enjoy it as he turns you around and kisses you, tasting like chocolate, love, and many more special days to come.

[softspiderling]

omg i love ur Rafe works !!!

i was wondering if you'd be open to doing a ‘hands tangles in the same pocket’ with rafe from the valentine's prompts

NO I LOVE YOU BUDDY😭

thank you for this sweet request. WHY is it so cute!!!! hands tangled in the same pocket??? SHUT UP! you prolly imagined this so differently but this is where my mind took me🥴hope you like it regardless!! smooches

prompt: hands tangled in the same pocket from the valentines “i love you” prompts

☆⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

You were notorious for your cold hands. It even happened in the summer, not that often, that you’d get concerned. In the winter, though? As soon as the temperatures hit the 50’s it was over for you. Hoodies, large sweat pants, it didn’t matter what you wore as long as it had big pockets you could stuff your hands in, in an attempt to warm them up.

It was a running gag that you’d clasp your hands around your friends’ neck, when they complained that it was too hot. JJ especially always liked to jump about five feet into the air, slapping your hands away.

“Put those ice blocks away,” he’d say, which only made you chase him around the house.

When you started dating Rafe, that didn’t really change. Except it kind of did. Rafe was the kind of person who always ran hot. Always. Especially at night, when you woke up with him plastered to your back, because he always insisted to cling to you.

During the day, you didn’t really mind. You appreciated it, really. When your hands were feeling too cold, you liked to lace your hands with his, giving him a big goofy smile. Most of the times, he only rolled his eyes, but kissed you on the head, giving your hands a squeeze.

When you were drunk, and a little bolder with the PDA, you’d sneak up on Rafe while he was just sitting, and slip your hands down the front of his shirt, pressing your palms against his bare chest. He always curled a hand around your wrist, turning his head, amused.

“You alright there, baby?”

“Yup.”

You never outright told him that you had cold hands all the time, so you didn’t assume that he knew about it. But how wrong you were.

Your friends had decided to take the boat out to sea, just spending a few hours of the day drinking and swimming, which was honestly not the best combination? Anyways, Rafe had offered to drive his boat out, setting anchor near near the cliffside. When the sun begun to set, you had dried yourself up, throwing one of Rafe’s old buttoned ups on, curling up on the seats, while your friends were still cajoling in the water.

It didn’t take long for Rafe to emerge from the cabin, drink in hand.

“Enough of the water already?” he asked, teasing you and you nodded, pulling your knees close to your chest.

“You cold?”

“Hm. It’s okay,” you replied, leaning against him when he sat down next to you. Rafe placed his glass on the floor carefully, reaching for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

“The Pogues okay down there or should I make sure that they don’t drown like rats?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “I’m a Pogue,” you pointed out, but Rafe only shrugged his shoulders.

“You’re my Pogue,” he pointed out, kissing the back of your hand, before slipping your hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt.

Biting back a retort, you watched him, knitting your eyebrows together.

“What are you doing?”

You wriggled your hand in his, your fingertips slowly warming up and Rafe only gave you a quick squeeze.

“You’re gon’ warm up in no time.”

When your friends finally returned to the boat, they found you curled up next to Rafe, hand in his sweatshirt pocket. JJ only fake-retched, quickly stealing Rafe’s drink. As he took a sip, he narrowed his eyes at you, pulling a face.

“I’m glad she has you as a space heater now, Kook.”

“Shut up, JJ.”

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠂⠄☆

[skzdarlings]

birthday girl ; skz ; seungmin x reader

requested by anonymous: “You keep your hands where they are or I’ll tie them up” with Seungmin + requested by anonymous: ❛ i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making. ❜ is SO seungmin I can’t 😭 + requested by @sealovesbts : ❛ is that how you usually get out of these situations? by fucking your way out of them? ❜ x Seungmin djjdjjdjd 🫣

pairing: kim seungmin/reader content info: friends to lovers. boy next door!seungmin, stripper!seungmin. reader is kinda vanilla but gets a couple kinks unlocked: stripping, some power play, seungmin giving orders and her following it, having sex in privacy but a public venue overall. word count: 4100 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy!

-

You open the door and jump, startled to find Seungmin already standing there with his hand raised to knock.  He also looks surprised but he doesn’t shriek like you do.  You were already jittery before the jump-scare.   

“Seungmin! Sorry!”  You put a hand over your heart.  “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I can see that.”  He speaks in his usual dry tone but smiles a lopsided smile. 

Kim Seungmin lives in your neighbourhood.  You have been amicable a long time so you like to consider him a friend as well.  He is an admittedly private person and his personality can be brash, but you find charm in his quirky cheekiness.  He is reliable whenever you need a hand.    

He is dressed in a hoodie and jeans which is not unusual; he is not very flashy.  His bangs sweep his forehead and he smiles a wide, boxy smile as he hands you a gift bag. 

“Happy birthday, neighbour,” he says. 

“Oh my goodness,” you say, flustered.  “Seungmin!  You didn’t have to!”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m the greatest,” he quips.   While you open the present, he asks, “I guess you’re going out?  You’re all dressed up.” 

“Oh, um, yes.”  You feel shy as he looks at you.

“You look good,” he says.

It makes you even more flustered.  You are dressed a little sleeker and sexier than usual.  Your sister has arranged your birthday party but you do not know where, only that she said to dress for fun.  You are not great with surprises and your sister is a little wild, hence your nerves, but you have decided to leave your comfort zone for one night. 

You were not expecting to run into your neighbour, friend, and crush. 

Because, yes, you like Seungmin.  A lot.  Seungmin is very modest, low-key, and hard-working.  You know he is at law school and works a few jobs to pay for it.  You are not sure where, but he is intelligent and you can imagine him doing anything.  His snark is amusing but his dependability and steadfastness is a sexy combination.  Your sister has never met him but has often teased you for your so-called boring infatuation, but you disregard the thought.  You like Seungmin, shaggy bangs and law school textbooks and all. 

A flirtation has been subtly brewing over the last few months.  You think the unexpected birthday gift is a step in that direction.  Especially when you unwrap a recipe book you off-handedly mentioned a few weeks ago, touched he remembered it at all. 

“Oh, thank you, Seungmin,” you say, gushing and sweet.  You go to hug him but falter nervously and end up giggling. 

He brushes some hair out of his eyes.  They seem to sparkle with mirth, or maybe you are just ridiculously head-over-heels. 

“You’re kinda goofy, you know that?” he says, but smiles.  “I like it.” 

“Oh gosh,” you say. 

It makes him laugh.  Then he says, “I’ll let you get to your party.” 

“Oh, it’s just my sister and some girl friends,” you say.  “I don’t even know where we’re going.  Probably just some food and stuff.  You know me.  I’m very simple.” 

“I do,” he says.  “I’d like to know you better, though.  Maybe you can make me one of those recipes some time.  I like the one on page fifteen.”

You burst out laughing at his audacity, making him laugh too.  His teasing successively obliterates your nerves.    

“I will,” you say, smiling so big.  “Page fifteen.  Noted.” 

“It’s a date,” he says.  “I’ll let you go now. Enjoy your birthday dinner.”

“You too,” you say, then realize that response made no sense so you stutter through a retraction.  You stop when he leans in and kisses your cheek, a quick peck that makes your eyes go wide. 

“Goofball,” he says and bops your nose while smiling.  “See you around, neighbour.”

“Bye, neighbour,” you say, giggling helplessly. 

He smiles as he walks away, hands in his pockets, and you are still hugging your book and smiling. 

-

The conversation with Seungmin is your last wholesome birthday moment.  You meet your sister and friends only to get whisked off to a placeof complete and utter depravity. 

Otherwise known as a club full of male strippers. 

You are sitting at a little table, astounded at the room around you.  You hold no judgements whatsoever, but between the flashing lights and loud music and, um, prominent bare chests and even more prominent bulges, you are sufficiently overawed. 

You cannot help but gawk, mouth open as you look around at everything.  It makes your sister and friends laugh.  It is not mean but they are undoubtedly amused.  Your shy character is the opposite of… this. 

“You guys are crazy,” you say, only making them erupt into more giggles. 

“You like logic and traditions so consider it a rite of passage, baby sister,” your sister says, slinging her arm around your shoulder and squeezing.  “Or, hm, an act of feminism!  It’s about equality.  We need to objectify and ogle the sexy men on behalf of womankind.”   

“How noble of us,” you say dryly, setting off another round of giggles.  You shake your head, smiling with amusement too.  You are a little embarrassed but it is quite funny, and there is a part of you enjoying something so opposite of your usual quiet scenes.  

Amusing is the best word for it, though.  None of the men are remotely your type and the relentless hip-thrusting is a bit much. You find yourself laughing into your drink and swaying to music as a few choreographed routines are performed.  Some of the more elaborate dances are entertaining. 

“The birthday girl likes a pretty boy,” your sister says, conspiring with your friends to find the perfect man to entertain you. 

“No, I don’t,” you say.  You roll your eyes and playfully shove her shoulder.   

“Well,” she says, “there are no boring lawyers on that stage, so a pretty face will have to suffice.” 

They proceed to point out a few of the prettier dancers while you shake your head.  You turn to watch the stage where a different set of men are in the middle of a routine.  There is a very rowdy bachelorette party in front of your table, occasionally blocking the view of one side of the stage.  You are sipping you drink when a few girls move, opening the view. 

You promptly spit your drink everywhere.  Your friends squeal while you choke and there is enough chaos at your table for one of the dancers to look directly at you. 

Not just any dancer.  

Kim Seungmin.

You have seen that face twice a day every day for months and you still barely recognize him.  It is no wonder that even a slightly obstructed view warped him entirely. 

Your modest, low-key friend is dazzling under the stage lights, face lightly made-up and his usual shaggy hair pushed back off his face.  Is it possible for a glimpse of forehead to so drastically change the composition of a familiar face?   He looks like a new man, his features striking on his bright, open face, all framed by neatly styled dark hair.  The familiar sparkle in his dark eyes is accentuated by the gleam of something shining around his neck.  Necklace? Choker? Collar?

He is in a white dress shirt and blue jeans, ripped at the knee, but everything about him seems illuminated.  He is the bold, blazoned fantasy version of the boy next door.  Very literally in your case, which is maybe why you think it, watching him cross the stage with more verve and confidence than you knew he possessed.  Your Seungmin walks in a casual shuffle, hands in his pockets.  He does not stride.

He certainly does not… gyrate.  Which is what he is doing when he catches your eye.  There is a moment of shared recognition and subsequent surprise, wide-eyed as you hold gazes across a noisy room.

Seungmin, a seemingly consummate professional, blinks the surprise off his face and goes back to his routine. 

You are not so practiced.  Your surprise stays plastered there, your mouth open and eyes wide as you stare at him.  The dance that seemed so exaggerated and ridiculous on the other performers is something else on Seungmin.  Maybe it is his character, the boy next door with his ripped jeans and smirking grin. Or maybe it is because he is your boy next door.

He is not ridiculous. Quite the opposite.  He makes it look natural, fluid and unhurried with the swivel of his hips and teasing grin.  He seems to somehow make eye contact with everyone in the room. 

You remind yourself that is his job when his eyes wander back to you.  It does not slow the race of your heart.

He sits on a chair and opens his shirt.  Some of the other dancers are more than half-naked, but he has a captive audience with the simplest action.  Keeping each step to the beat of the music, he reclines and undoes his belt, which makes your lips part. Then he lets his shirt drop down his arms and reveals his shoulders, which makes you gasp.  Then he cups a hand between his legs, curving his palm over the not-insubstantial bulge in his jeans.  Heat fills the core of you. 

He looks right at you with a tilt of his head and a lazy smile, the subtle sort of smirk that does not need to exaggerate.  He knows he has you. 

“Oh my god,” your friend says.  “Not birthday girl eye-fucking a stripper.”

“What!”  You rip your attention away all at once, flushed hot from head to toe.  “I am not!”

“Well, he was eye-fucking you.” 

You take a gigantic gulp of water, though it does not to quell the heat inside.  Until today, the most you dared to fantasize about Seungmin was a prolonged kiss on the porch.  Seungmin is polite.  He does not eye-fuck. 

Except you glance over the rim of your cup.  He is still looking at you.  It is not the way he looks at everyone else, who he skims with a cursory glance and flirtatious wink.  It is a lingering, penetrating stare, like he is calling you to him with his eyes alone. 

Oh. Gosh.  He is eye-fucking you. 

“I think,” your sister says, “we found a pretty boy for the birthday girl.” 

-

And that is how you find yourself sitting in a small private room, barely bigger than a coat closet and washed in a dark purple light.  You are perched on a plush little seat, holding your handbag so tightly your knuckles start to hurt.  You let go and clear your throat, embarrassed even though you are alone.  You place the bag on the floor and smooth your hands down the skirt of your dress.

You squeak like a frightened little mouse, jumping when Kim Seungmin startles you for the third time tonight.  Once on your doorstep.  Once on stage.  And now in this little room, silhouetted by the hall lights until he closes the divider.  He is still in his ripped jeans and dress shirt, neatly buttoned and composed again. 

He runs a hand through his hair which makes your heart skip beats.  You feel a little preposterous, scandalized by a forehead, but it makes his gaze so direct.  You melt under the intensity of his stare. 

“I hear it’s your birthday,” he says. 

You imagine yourself as a stranger to him, the same line recited with the same confidence.  For some reason, it is just as tantalizing.  You like abrasive, quirky law student Kim Seungmin in his hoodie and jeans.  But you find yourself irrevocably spellbound by this other version of him, who is so seductive it has women drawing money out of their purses. 

“Yes,” is what you say, instead of all that. 

He tilts his head, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.  He is always clever but his open face makes his scrutiny more apparent.  You swallow when he approaches, when he sinks down on one knee while holding your gaze in thrall. 

“Breathe,” he says.  “That’s not a request.”  He rests his hands on the seat, framing your body between them.  He does not touch you.  He does not need to.  Your breath spills free in a rush and he smirks.  “Good.  All right.  So… neighbour… Should we talk?” 

You think a thousand thoughts.  Yes, a conversation.  No, your friends paid for this room.  They think you will get a lap dance or something, then return quickly.  You want to ask when he is free for dinner.  You want to ask how long he has worked here.  You want to know him.  You really, really want to kiss him. 

You say instead, “I’ve never done this sort of thing before.” 

He looks at you for another moment, still studious.  You swallow again.  Then he smiles that dastardly grin, wide and a little mean. 

“And you want to?” he asks.  “Do this sort of thing?” 

“Only if it’s you,” you say, then avert your gaze out of embarrassment.  Maybe that was too much cringe-worthy honesty. 

He touches your chin, drawing your gaze back to him.  You blink at him, helpless but to study his face in turn.  He was always decently good-looking but he is driving you to complete distraction.  You find yourself staring at his lips well before he starts speaking. 

“I think you have more depth than either of us know, don’t you?” he asks. 

“Maybe,” you say, laughing a little.  You look at him with wide, earnest eyes.  “Don’t we all?” 

He touches his tongue to his upper lip, looking thoughtful but undoubtedly smiling.  Then he smacks his lips and nods, his hair bouncing.

“Right,” he says.  “In that case, birthday girl…”

He stands and your eyes follow.  He holds your gaze until he starts unbuttoning his shirt, then your eyes drop to his hands, the deft flick of his fingers as they crawl down his chest. 

A professional, you think.  It gets you undeniably hot.  You meet his eyes again when he tugs his shirt off and drops it behind him.  He is more slender than chiseled, especially compared to some of the other dancers, but there is a firmness to his body, a control he has mastered.  

He grabs a bar above your head that you did not even notice, using it to lift and lower himself over you.  He lands in a smooth straddle with his knees cradling you under him. 

You sit back, breathing harder already.  Then he takes your hands and lifts them over your head, making your fingers twitch with anticipation.  You are still fully clothed but your dress is sleeveless and low-cut and this feels like a vulnerable position, arms raised with a half-naked Kim Seungmin straddling your body. 

He curls your fingers around the bar then drags his knuckle down the bare skin of your arms, making you shiver despite the packed heat of this little room. 

“You keep your hands where they are,” he says, “or I’ll tie them up.”   

You nod a little frantically and it makes him laugh.  Then he is leaning back just enough to rock his body over yours, bringing your attention to every flawless plane of his body as he moves on you.  He touches you sparingly, making you watch, making you wonder.  Looking and fantasizing about what his hips can really do, what strength is hidden in the body he has mastered.  He follows the low music, ever deep thrum of a bass, every heart-pounding beat. 

He brings his face close to yours, so close your lips almost touch.  It steals your breath like a real kiss would. 

“I’m going to touch you,” he says.  “Be good for me, birthday girl. Maybe there’s a present in it for you.  Only if I like you.” 

You cannot find any witty quips to return.  He is definitely the experienced one, as effortless with his words as with everything else.  You can only gawk at him as he slides smoothly off.  Then his hands are on your legs, making them quiver, your body startled with the direct touch despite the warning. 

Your skirt gathers just a bit, his hands curling under your knees.  Then he is spreading your legs, not enough to see anything but enough you feel the empty space between them.  Oh yes, emptier than you have ever felt.  You are surprised by the way you clench, your body aching for more.  He only teases, makes you feel that emptiness and picture every what if.  He helps you with your fantasy, pushing your legs back like he would if he was fucking you deep, rolling his hips so close to yours in mimicry. 

“Oh,” is the only sound you make.   Your breathing is very loud.  It says a lot on its own. 

He is breathing a little harder too.  He is still between your legs when he starts unbuttoning his jeans.  He shuffles them down his hips but not all the way off.  You can see he is wearing nothing underneath, the denim itself a suddenly tantalizing piece, slung low on his hips with the subtle sloping v of his body drawing your gaze to his middle. 

“I don’t usually go further than this, you know,” he says.  He slowly pushes the next button loose and you can feel the rush of heat from your belly swoop lower.  His bulge looks obscene at this vantage, pushing at what little remains of the denim around it.  “But I think I like you, birthday girl.”  He opens another button.  “I think I can make an exception.”  He pushes the last button then grasps his jeans at the hips, grinning as he says, “Our secret.” 

Secret, illicit, that’s what this feels like, looking at the gorgeous man you have been pining after, watching as he pushes his jeans down his hips and thighs.  You are tucked in a small room not far away from a rowdy crowd, Kim Seungmin dropping the last of his clothes then continuing his slow and sensual movements. 

You feel dizzy, your arms shaking.  You close your mouth when you literally salivate, because his dick is right there, hard and curving up in front of you as he moves with skilled ease.  You giggle a little nervously when he notices and swipes a thumb across your lips.   Then he reaches up, curling his hands over yours on the bar as he leans in close to your face. 

“You wanna touch me?” he asks, palms over your knuckles.  You nod frantically and he grins that mean smile, tilting his head as he looks down at you.  “What will you give me for it?” 

“Anything,” you say.  “You can do anything to me.  You can have all of me.” 

It occurs only seconds later he might mean money, but he just laughs, that familiar ha-ha-ha you have heard a dozen times before. 

“Is that how you usually get out of these situations?” he teases.  “By fucking your way out of them?” 

“You’re so mean,” you say with a helpless pout. 

“Yeah,” he says, brushing his nose with yours.  “I am.  I could be worse, but it’s your birthday.”  He takes your hands and lowers them, guiding them to his shoulders.   

You touch him carefully, as if he is fragile, or like he could disappear beneath your fingertips.  This moment hardly seems real, ethereal and bright, all neon and purple haze. This is not like you and that is thrilling.  This is all new, but he is also familiar.  You are enjoying this, him, you together.  

You touch him slowly, with intention, just the gentlest caress across his bare shoulders.  It wipes his grin, makes his breathing get all slow like he is savouring it too.  He looks at you with more intensity. 

“You said I can anything?” he asks. 

A nod is all it takes, then he is sinking to his knees.  He pushes back a few loose strands of his hair, then his hands are under your knees and he is pulling you to the edge of your seat.  You make a little noise of surprise, clutching his shoulders until he manoeuvres you.  Then it is your legs on his shoulders and he is running his tongue along your inner thigh. 

“Seungmin,” you say, breathlessly.

“Shh, shh,” he says.  “Our secret, remember?” 

Then he is tugging your now wet panties to the side, his mouth on you in a ravenous motion.  You cover your mouth to try and stifle most of your moaning, but you cannot help the few sounds that escape, especially as he takes you closer and closer to a climax.  He surfaces, still using his hand to get you close, his lips wet and eyes searching.  He smirks, sliding two fingers into you while rolling his thumb across that distended bundle of nerves. 

“That’s not quiet, birthday girl,” he says.  “Don’t make me gag you.” 

“I’m quiet,” is your rasping reply.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” he asks, fucking his fingers roughly through all the wet desire between your thighs, making you shake.  “I can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making,” he says.  “It almost sounds like you’re about to come for me.  That’s pretty dirty.  What would everyone out there say?” 

Shocked.  They would be shocked if they even believed it.  You would not have believed it of yourself a few hours ago.  But now you are coming all over his face and hand and it is still not enough.  You have never begged for anything but the words are on your lips, your mouth open and eyes wide as you stare at him. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, fingers swirling at your entrance.  He pushes in and out, just his fingertips, tormenting you.  “That just made you needier, didn’t it?  Tsk.” He sighs dramatically.  “I don’t usually offer that.  It’ll cost you.” 

“I’ll cook the recipe on page sixteen too,” you say, making him laugh naturally again. 

“What a bargain,” he says.  He grabs his jeans and fishes a condom out of the back pocket.  He even seems to make a show of that.  He puts it on and fists his cock for you, standing above you while you catch your breath.  When you reach for him, he grabs your wrists and yanks you up.  He is effortless and quick, as always, spinning you around and pressing your hands to the back of the seat. 

“You know the rules,” he says.  “Hands there or I tie them up.  That’s my girl.”

You follow his directions and bend over, feeling utterly debauched before he is even inside you.  He lifts your skirt and tugs your panties aside again.  You are fully dressed and he is completely naked, but you somehow feel more exposed, more vulnerable in his confident hands.  He holds your hips and eases inside you, inch by solid inch until he is pressed up against your backside, buried to the hilt. 

“That’s it,” he says, tone still cocky though it soon gives way to panting.  He makes a few rough sounds of his own, fucking you quick and dirty in this small room.  You are going to walk out of here smelling and looking like sex itself, dishevelled and shaky and well-fucked.  Practically a new woman, one you are eager to know, containing as many contradictory dualities as Seungmin. 

Seungmin, your goofy friend, who throws his head back as he drives into you again and again, shushing you when you get too loud.  He muffles his own cry in your shoulder when he comes, still rocking against you for a moment after that. 

“Fuck,” you say, dropping onto the seat after.  He is tugging his jeans back on, though his eyes are on you.  It is a scrutinous stare again.  You undoubtedly have questions for each other.   For now, you just smile, taking another shuddery breath as you come down from your high.   “Well,” you say.  “That might have been worth page seventeen too.” 

His gaze softens, the corner of his eyes crinkling with his smile.  He leans over you, brushes his nose against yours, and finally kisses you.  It is the soft, tender kiss you dreamed about so long ago.  It leaves you as breathless as everything else. 

“All right, neighbour,” he says, “it’s a date.” 

[winniethewife]

Got one inside the pants, the other on your- (Marc Spector x F!reader)

Prompt: Dirty Talk

A/N; Happy Valentine’s day <3

Warning: Smut under the cut, Fingering, PinV, Unprotected sex, Good Girl, Babygirl, other petnames, choking

Words: 579

Marc already had his fingers deep inside her as he leaned her over the back of the couch, his mouth attached to her neck, her pants pulled down past her hips, his other hand palming his bulge as he fucks her with his fingers. He had just come home and needed her the second he saw her. He growls lowly into her skin as she moans. His thumb making circles on her clit as he moved her fingers in and out of her.

“Fuck baby, wet for me already?” His voice tickled her earlobe as he spoke to her, his voice dripping with desire. “That’s it babygirl, let me take care of you. Let me fuck you with just my fingers, then my cock, Fuck you sound so pretty. Keep moaning like that for me…good girl, that’s my good fucking girl.” She can’t help it, she loves it when he gets all needy for her, when he needs her so bad he can’t even be bothered to make it all the way inside the door before she’s bent over the nearest piece of furniture as he says all those horribly wonderful things. He pulls out his hand, licking her slick from that hand while using the other to pull his cock from his jeans, Not even bothering to pull his pants all the way off in desperation to get to her.

“M-Marc…” She whimpers his name as he looks into her eyes, he takes his fingers from his mouth and puts them against her lips, a single look telling her exactly what to do. She opens her mouth taking his fingers in her mouth and sucking on them. He smiles.

“Good girl.” He growls before thrusting into her, letting himself bottom out inside her, letting her adjust around him. He hisses softly. “Fuck baby, you’re so fucking tight, Just like that. Mgh. Yes… that’s it. Fuck. I’m gonna fuck you so good you aren’t gonna walk right for days. Fuck you so hard that you feel me inside you until morning. Right baby? Yeah, You love this cock, Need this cock. My cock, My girl.” He starts to move, at first a slow but steady pace, all the way out, all the way back in, again and again, but its only a moment before he’s rutting into her like it’s the only thing keeping him alive.  She moans on this fingers, Her nails digging into the couch, she feels the knot of pleasure wound tight in her lower stomach. She was so close, she ever so slightly bites down on his fingers. He groans as he fucks her harder and faster seeking his own release in her tight walls. He moves his hand from her mouth to around her neck, putting just enough pressure on her neck to delay the blood to her brain, and restrict her breathing slightly “Fuck baby you feel so damn good, Fuck I’m gonna fill you up baby. Ngh. Yes, fuck yes. That’s it baby cum with me baby, cum with me…there there there there…Fuck” Marc kept whispering every filthy idea that came up in his mind as he coated her insides with his spend, releasing the pressure on her neck as she clamped down on him, gasping for air as her body shakes with pleasure. He starts kissing her softly, the marks on her neck truning a deeper red as he gently kisses her, muttering into her.

“Such a good fucking girl…My girl…Mine”

Bingo Masterlist

Tag: @moonknight-events @juneknight @spacecowboyhotch @burymesanti @silver-night-m @justafandomgvrl

[thedvilsinthedetails]

Rosekiller microfic suggestion 😊

Barty and Evan have always been very affectionate and touchy, lots of pet names etc and one day they find out a lot of hogwarts thinks they’re dating and they’re both like “are we dating? Damn I guess we are” and make out lmaooo

HELP IM REPLYING SO LATE TO ALL THESE PROMPTS BUT I FINALLY FOUND THE TJME AND MOTIVATION TO WRITE

sorry the ending is a bit rushed but yeah✨

•••

They were sat outside in the courtyard. Barty could feel the warm sun shining down on his face and Evan’s fingers softly running though his hair as he let a gentle sense of tranquility wash over him. He had his head resting in Evan’s lap, eyes screwed shut as Evan fiddled with his hair while they waited for Regulus and the girls to get back from Hogsmeade. 

He heard some students walk by and blinked his eyes opened confusedly as he heard their whispers and giggles. He frowned, lifting his head as he caught the end of what one of them was saying.

“Such couple goals.”

But then Evan had his hand pressed gently to Barty’s cheek, looking down at him as he murmured.

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah.” Barty nodded, deciding to ignore what he’d heard, those students could have been talking about anyone.

“Yeah everything’s good.”

Evan just grinned in response and Barty went back to resting his head on Evan’s thigh.

•••

Evan soared through the air, decked out in his quidditch gear as he and the Slytherin team flew a celebratory victory lap around the pitch, shooting a wink and a smirk at Barty who was already heading excitedly for the stairs to get down to the ground. Once he got there he sprinted for where Evan was standing, chatting excitedly to his teammates. He launched himself at Evan who caught him and then promptly tripped over, landing them both on the ground in a fit of laughter. Barty rolled over to face him with a grin.

“Well done Rosie!” 

Evan grinned back, face flushed with adrenaline.

“Thanks Bee.” 

He got up, brushing himself off and helping Barty to his feet too, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“You two are so cute.” 

Edgar Bones spoke, smiling as he passed them.

Evan turned to Barty and sent him a wink.

“Hear that? We’re practically the darlings of the year group” 

“Well of course we are, just look at us.”

Barty responded. Evan laughed slightly and Barty huffed questioningly.

“Sorry just- you have grass in your hair.”

Evan reached up a hand and picked out the grass that had gotten into Barty’s hair, then finally he ran a hand through, messing it up for good measure.

•••

“Students, as many of you may know, today marks the  muggle holiday of Valentines Day. Despite the excitement we would like you all to continue on like normal and save the celebrations for this weekends trip to Hogsmeade. Please be civilised and behave norma-“ 

That was when Barty got on the table. He held a bouquet of red roses in the air with a grin and announced loudly.

“Evan Rosier, my rose, light of my life, would you please be my Valentine?” 

He kneeled down, holding the bouquet out to Evan with a grin.

“Why of course.”

Evan took the bouquet and pressed a kiss to Barty’s cheek. As Barty stood up, he took a bow and the students actually began to clap. That was sort of surprising because usually his antics gained groans of annoyance from everyone around him. 

•••

The group was sat in a circle with the new addition of James Potter fiddling nervously with his wand next to Regulus. 

“So…it’s really nice to finally meet you guys. Reggie has told me a lot about you.” James cleared his throat awkwardly before he spoke.

Barty rolled his eyes before turning to Regulus.

“Reggie what happened to friendship solidarity? I’m single so you should be too, it’s not fair.”

“Single?” James asked confusedly.

“But I thought you and Evan were together.”

Barty turned to Evan and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Me and Evan? Please as if I could ever pull Rosie, why would you think that?” 

“Well you two are awfully cuddly.”

“Are you saying friends can’t cuddle one another James? Does that mean there’s something going on between you and Sirius? Don’t know how Reggie feels being cheated on with his own brother.”

James’ eyes widened as he struggled to find words.

“No- no I would never, I don’t- sorry I just thought because you- you know, you regularly call Evan ‘your rose’ and that a pretty couple-y nickname so.”

“Well yeah but-“

“Plus you made a massive show of asking him out on Valentine’s Day. Everyone’s convinced you guys started dating this year, that’s why they clapped. Everyone thought it was really romantic.” 

Pandora added with a little self satisfied nod at the end of her statement.

“Huh I guess we kind of are together.” 

Barty turned back to Evan and found that he had a blush dusting his face in a dark shade of red. 

“Rosie.” Barty turned to Evan, lifting a hand to cup his face. 

“Well we can’t disappoint the people, would you do the honours of being with me?” 

Evan glanced down at him through half lidded eyes before pressing a small chaste kiss to his lips, letting a small sound escape his throat as Barty deepened it. 

When they broke apart Barty couldn’t hold back a dopey grin as Evan spoke.

“Well I guess I could.” 

“Brilliant.” Barty jumped up quickly, pulling Evan up with him.

“Where are we going?” Evan asked.

“Well I owe you a date don’t I?” 

“What? Right now?” Evan suppressed a smile and quirked up an eyebrow.

“No time like the present. Oh and before I forget-“ Barty turned back quickly to the group.

“James Potter? Thank you very very much.”

“You’re uh- you’re very very welcome.”

James appeared to be sweating profusely now in confusion, face slightly fear stricken. Regulus would probably murder Barty later but that didn’t matter right now. Nothing mattered right now except the warm weight of the hand holding his and the boy attached to it.

“I still don’t like you though.”

And with that, Barty excitedly tugged Evan out of the common room.

[silentglassbreak]

I usually don't so this, but since you posted it not so long ago, are the requests still open? And if so, can I ask for meeting Noah after a show, talking about fantasies and maybe some vampire role-playing? But also lots of fluff after because he's a good top. My name's Maggie and my most prominent features are that I am short, I wear glasses and I have dark curly hair.

Alrighty, let's just get right into this one, because there is truly no time to waste.

After Writing Notes: Baby, I am so sorry. I have no clue how we got here...but here we are? Once again, we went a lil off prompt, so I apologize if it wasn't exactly what you were looking for? I hope you enjoy regardless! Just a heads up, this is -BY FAR- the darkest one I've written so far.

Rating: Explicit AF

Warnings: smut, kink, blood play, roleplay, blood...blood...blood, horror themes, light BDSM (choking and biting)

Die For You

February 14th, 2024.

Valentine’s Day is the bane of my existence. I was so tired of the patrons, the demanding orders, and - mostly - the couples. It was vomit-inducing. Did my recent breakup contribute to the way I was feeling?

Sure. Probably.

Did it change the fact that I was in the foulest mood imaginable?

Not in the slightest.

I leaned my head against the brick wall of the building, my break slowly waning, signaling I was due to go back in and finish the last two hours of this God forsaken shift. Being a waitress had no perks. None.

Instead, it came with cons that I had to endure in order to pay my bills.

“Hanging in there, Maggie?”

I sighed and turned to the door, hearing Alexa’s breathless voice. She was certainly struggling in there without me.

“Yeah, just getting some air. I’ll be in there in less than five.”

She nodded and stepped out into the cool evening air. She pulled a cigarette from her pack, lighting it between her lips.

“Have you seen the announcement on Insta?”

I rolled my head to the side to glance at her. “What announcement?”

She smirked, pulling her phone from her back pocket and opening the app, handing it to me.

The poster was on the Black Veil Brides page. It was blood red, with bright white font.

BLOOD BATH

October 31st, 2024

Kia Forum

BRING ME THE HORIZON

FALLING IN REVERSE

BLACK VEIL BRIDES

BAD OMENS

ICE NINE KILLS

THE FIVE BIGGEST BANDS OF METAL

ONE NIGHT ONLY

TICKETS SELLING FAST

My brain almost didn’t register what I was seeing.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” My eyes were blown out as I looked up at Alex.

“Nope. Tickets are $850 a piece, I checked.”

I groaned, tossing my head back. “I could never afford that, let alone before it sells out.”

Alexa scoffed, sucking in the smoke of her cigarette. “You’re hilarious. I just wanted to make sure you’d want to go.” She snatched her phone back from me.

“What?” I quirked an eyebrow at her.

“I have two tickets.”

My heart fell into my stomach. “E-fucking-xcuse me?”

She cackled. “Who else would I take? I’ve got a savings for a reason, right?”

My jaw was hanging open. “Alex, that’s insane. That’s $1,700!”

“$1,896, actually. Including taxes and fees.”

“That’s insane!” I repeated.

“When are we ever going to get to see all of those bands at once? It’s obviously some kind of crazy event. Can you imagine the crossovers we’re going to see? The theatrics!” I couldn’t speak, I was too stunned. “Plus,” She dropped her spent smoke and stomped on it. “I figured you needed some cheering up today. I know Bad Omens is your favorite.”

I could not physically restrain myself any longer, throwing myself at her and wrapping my arms around her shoulders.

“You’re the best fucking human being alive, you know that?!” I peppered kisses on her cheeks, making her squirm.

“Yes, yes, I’m aware.” She wiped my smeared lip gloss off her face.

She stalked back to the door, pulling the handle. “Now let’s finish this bullshit, so we can go celebrate. You’re buying.”

October 31st, 2024

The line to get in was impossibly long, so Alex and I were sat on the ground, chatting about the songs we were excited to hear, and who we were most excited to see.

“Spencer is the actual love of my life, and I cannot wait to see his fucking face.” She gushed.

I smiled. “Oh, don’t I know. But Andy? Ugh, how fucking mouthwatering.”

The doors would open shortly, so we stood, and promptly filed our way in. The venue was huge. We both agreed we would not be drinking, figuring we had a long time to stand and would end up exhausted.

We opted to grab two water bottles from the bar and head to the GA floor. We were early, luckily, and managed to grab a spot up at the rails.

Waiting nearly an hour, the lights finally came down, and the crowd erupted. Alexa was absolutely feral, listening to the opening of Rainy Day playing. When Spencer bounded onstage, full suit attire, and blade in his hand, she nearly jumped the rails.

As he passed us near the stage, I noticed something. I tapped Alex’s arm and she leaned her head down to hear me.

“He’s wearing fangs!” I shouted. She glanced up and looked, seeing the same.

Her eyes rolled as she licked her bottom lip. “Fucking bite me, Daddy.” She groaned, and I bursted with laughter.

She was so unhinged.

Ice Nine Kills finished their set with Welcome to Horrorwood, sending blood red confetti into the air, before gracefully stepping off the stage. During the set I had noticed a few things that almost seemed…off?

First of all, it wasn’t just Spencer with fangs. It was the entire band. Being as close as we were, I could see the shiny white fangs exposed every so often when they’d open their mouths to sing. These weren’t cheap, Amazon pop-ins either. They were convincing. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have sworn that they were their actual teeth, filed down to sharp points. It was interesting.

As well, everyone in the band seemed to have a looming presence tonight. It was so difficult to explain, but it just as if they weren’t just looking at the crowd, but like they were searching it. Looking for something specific, with pointed stares and glaring smiles. It ran a chill up my spine when Spencer made direct eye contact with Alexa for a full minute while singing Hip To Be Scared. It was as if he was looking at a meal.

She ate it up, as expected.

The next set, however, was Bad Omens, and I could not have been more excited.

I had seen them twice before, and their Setlist didn’t stray much, so I was actually shocked when the usual Loading Screen didn’t show, and the opening to Artificial Suicide didn’t begin.

Instead, the opening song was Blood. That was so odd. I didn’t think they even performed this song. The crowd loved it, however.

They still started in all ski masks, and removed them for the next track - Like A Villain.

During the chorus, I was singing and swaying, giving my full attention, but stopped as soon as Noah moved close enough that I could see it.

He was also wearing fangs. My eyes darted to Jolly, who was easiest to see from where I stood. He licked his lips and, as I suspected, there they were - sharp and white.

Alexa seemed to also notice this, tapping me to lean in. “It’s called Blood Bath, so it must be a vampire themed show for Halloween.”

I nodded, because that seemed legitimate.

But still…

I expected that out of Ice Nine or Black Veil Brides. Hell, Oli Sykes actually had fangs.

But Bad Omens?

They weren’t as theatrical. I was surprised they had agreed.

However, I was pulled out of my thoughts when I felt eyes on me, and my attention was pulled back to the stage. A pair of deep, nearly black eyes were staring at me.

The song had changed, and we were on Nowhere To Go. And he was staring at me.

No, not at me. INTO me. Something in my soul felt exposed, as if I had shown up to this show nude.

I couldn’t break eye contact. I was caught between being starstruck, and immensely terrified. His lips were turned up in the slightest of smiles.

“Are you ready?”

I swallowed hard.

“I’m in the driver’s seat now.”

He finally broke his gaze, headbanging between screams.

Once I was released, I inhaled a sharp breath, turning my back to the stage. Alexa noticed as I crouched down, breathing hard.

“Babe?!” She bent down next to me. “Are you okay?”

I shook my head. “It’s too hot in this crowd, I’ve got to go.”

She got down to my eye level. “Maggie, you want to leave during Bad Omens?!”

I nodded feverishly, my dark curls sticking to my neck. Despite being sweaty, I had a cold chill climbing up my spine.

“I’m going to have a panic attack. I need a break.”

Maggie nodded, looking solemn. “Okay, let’s go.”

I stopped her, grabbing her arm. “No, you stay here. Save our spot. I’m going to go get some air, and I’ll be back.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You’re sure?”

I stood up, adjusting my shirt that had bunched up at my waist, and pulled my glasses on top of my head.

“Yeah, I’ll be back after their set.”

She sighed, but hugged me and told me to be careful.

I pressed my way through the crowd, not chancing another glance at the stage, despite feeling the eyes on my back.

-

The evening air was cool, in the fifty-degree range. I worried my sweatshirt with my fingers, feeling the air pull in and out of my lungs.

I had slipped out of the side entrance to the smoking area. I ducked under the ropes and to the back of the building to be alone. The tour buses were back in this area, but I paid it no attention, working hard at calming my nerves.

I had been out here for at least forty-five minutes. I could hear the music inside, and knew Bad Omens’ set had been over now for about five minutes. Figuring it was now a good time to make my way back to Alex, I pushed back into the building, seeing the crowd had not moved much.

I had tried to enter at several different points, but the bodies were condensed so tight, and unwilling to give up their spots. After fifteen minutes of trying, I growled and pulled my phone out, tapping Alexa’s name.

When she answered the phone, she shouted. “Hey! Where are you?”

“I can’t get back up there! No one is letting me through!”

She groaned. “Fuck! Okay, I’ll come out.”

“No! Don’t do that! Black Veil Brides is next! You cannot miss that!”

She went quiet for a second. “Maggie, I don’t want you to be alone.”

I stepped back outside so I could hear better. “I’ll be fine. I’ll watch the crowd to see if I can make it back in later.”

“You’re sure? Cause I will leave right fucking now. You know you’re more important.”

“Babe, you spent almost all of your savings on this. I’m not ruining it for you. I can see from back here.”

“Promise?”

I smiled. “I promise.”

Electing to stay outside a while, I sat on the curb behind the building, going through the photos and video I captured of Ice Nine Kills’ set. I managed to catch Spencer staring at Alex on camera, which I promptly sent her.

She responded quickly.

Alexa: OMFG HE’S IN LOVE WITH ME

I giggled, shaking my head at her response. Going back to my photo album, I sat watching the videos when I heard Black Veil Brides start.

Bleeders was the first song. Fitting.

Alexa: Dude…Andy’s wearing fangs too. It’s definitely a theme.

Me: Love it.

The music was so loud that I hadn’t heard the footsteps behind me.

“Excuse me?” Startled, I jumped up, turning around.

An impossibly tall, hooded man stood, hands in front of him, eyebrows raised.

It took me about three seconds to register who it was, and my mouth fell open.

“Are you okay?”

Noah fucking Sebastian.

I was caught between stunned, ecstatic, and horrified. He had such a soft look on his face. He looked immensely different than he did on stage. He wore black joggers with his own logo on them, a plain black hoodie, and a black baseball cap.

“Wh-“ My voice shorted, so I cleared my throat. “What?”

He smirked slightly. “Are you okay? I remember you from the crowd, and I saw you leave. I almost stopped the set when I saw you crouch down.”

I was floored. He noticed that? I knew he saw me, but Jesus Christ, I didn’t think he saw me?!

“Yeah, I, uh…” I stammered. “I just got really hot. The pyrotechnics and all.”

He nodded, chancing a step toward me. “You sure? You look pretty pale.”

Fantastic. Not only did I leave early during his performance - which he fucking saw - but I also looked fucking peaked at the same time.

I forced a calm smile. “Yeah, I’m good, promise.”

He seemed satisfied with that, putting his hands in his pockets. “Did I freak you out? When I stared at you?”

That was on purpose?!

I didn’t get a chance to answer. “I just perform better sometimes when I have something to focus on.”

I was bewildered, my eyebrows knitting together. “And that something was me?”

He smiled, a warm expression. “I guess so.”

“Why?” I couldn’t stop it from falling out of my mouth. Did it matter?

He shrugged his shoulders. “I liked your face.”

That’s a really strange answer.

“Okay?” I shifted one foot to another, not sure what to say or how to act.

“Why aren’t you watching the show?”

I sighed, moving back to the curb, deciding to sit back down. He made quick work of doing the same, sitting about a foot to my right.

“My best friend is up there. I couldn’t get back in to where she is. I tried.”

He nodded. “Ah.” His hands still in his pockets and knees bouncing rhythmically, he glanced around.

“Well, I’m going to watch from the balcony. Want to join?”

My heart rate sped up, screeching in my chest. His lip twitched at the same time, which was ironic.

“I,” My brain was misfiring, but I knew better. “I can’t.”

His eyes almost fell, his expression turning nearly…sad? “Oh?”

“I can’t leave Alex. I promised I’d make it back to her at some point.”

“You can bring her if you want.”

My mind was short circuiting. This couldn’t be fucking happening.

“I, uh, don’t know.” Something was too weird. This didn’t just happen. “I really shouldn’t.”

He nodded, pursing his lips. “No worries.” He stood up, stretching his arms over his head. “If you change your mind, I’m going up before Oli’s set. I’ll be around.”

With that, he turned around, and took a few steps. He spun back around and raised an eyebrow at me.

“I didn’t catch your name.”

“Maggie.”

He smiled. “See you later, Maggie.”

-

Me: I NEED TO FUCKING SPEAK TO YOU IMMEDIATELY.

Alexa: What level urgency? They’re playing In The End.

Me: B L A C K.

Alexa: OH FUCK IM ON MY WAY.

Alexa and I were regular show goers, so we had code we used.

Urgent situations were assigned a color.

Green: Good to go. Nothing to worry about.

Yellow: Shit’s getting weird. We need to keep eyes open.

Red: Urgent. Get to me ASAP. Serious situation.

Black: Get here now. Highest level priority.

Alexa came barreling out of the door and ran toward me, out of breath. “Are you okay? I got a knife in my boot that they didn’t take. I can stab someone!”

I grabbed her shoulders. “I’m fine!”

She stopped abruptly, narrowing her eyes. “What? Then why the urgency? I missed the end of the set!”

“I met Noah Sebastian.”

Her face deadpanned. “I beg your finest pardon?!”

I just nodded. “Out here. He remembered me from the crowd.”

“Are you fucking with me? Cause Maggie, I love you, but I’ll punch you right here, right now if you’re lying.”

“There’s no need for violence. She isn’t lying.”

Both of us snapped our necks to our left, the hooded figure stepping out from behind one of the buses. Noah came into view, hands still in his pockets.

“Nice to meet you, Alex.”

She visibly reeled, a shrill screech leaving her mouth.

“Holy fuck! It’s actually him!”

I giggled, glancing back at Noah, whose eyes were on me again. I straightened my spine, feeling that same fear sinking in from before.

“I was telling Maggie earlier that I planned to watch the rest of the show from the balcony with the guys. Wanted to invite you to join.”

Her mouth hung open, hand reaching for my arm and pulling me close. “We’d love to.” She answered for us.

I shot her a look. I wasn’t sure how much I wanted to do this. I still had the unnerved feeling that something wasn’t right.

She ignored my stare, smiling brightly at Noah.

He returned her grin with his own, which was oddly menacing. I noticed at that moment that he still had the fangs in.

“Awesome. Follow me.”

We did as we were told, following him into the back of the building, passing people who obviously were working on the show. We were far enough behind Noah that I pulled Alex in close, whispering to her.

“I feel weird about this, babe.”

She stared at me incredulously. “Why? Isn’t this your biggest fantasy?”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course it is, but it feels strange. Why us?”

She shrugged. “We manifested it? I don’t know. Shit like this happens all the time.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think it does.”

The balcony he lead us to was private. It was between sets, so the other members of the band were sat, relaxing, beers in hand. It was set up as a lounge, three couches lined up.

Noah graciously introduced us to the other band members, and we shook their hands feverishly, awestruck. It wasn’t lost on me that all of them still had the fangs in.

Alex had struck a conversation with Nick Folio, explaining how she played drums in high school. I sat slowly on the end couch, seeing the view of the stage that was incredible. The couch sunk next to me, and I glanced over to Noah, who was tapping a message into his phone.

“Aren’t those uncomfortable?”

He looked up at me, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

I pointed to my canines, and he snorted.

“Oh, right. Yeah, you get used to them.” He locked his phone and slipped it in his pocket.

I nodded. “You guys are dedicated to the theme, huh?”

He smiled, showing off the sharp points, and ran his tongue over one. “They’re not easy to take off.”

“Mm.” Must be glued on.

“Can I ask you something?”

He nodded, leaned back on the seat with his arm over the back.

“Do you do this all the time? Pick up random fans?”

He narrowed his eyes, grinning at me.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because it seems abnormal. What makes us so special?”

He sat up, leaning forward on his elbows so he was inches from my face, his breath cool. “What makes you think you’re just some random fan?”

I scoffed. “Because I am?” I leaned away from him, needing air. “I’m just a girl. Short. Glasses. Mop of hair. I didn’t even wear makeup tonight.”

He leaned back as well, keeping a distance between us. “So? Why does that mean you aren’t special?”

I rolled my eyes. “I think I’m not the first fan to be in a balcony with you.”

He nodded. “You’d be correct.” My heart sunk just slightly. “But you’re the first one I went looking for.”

My eyes popped open.

The fuck did that mean?

“Looking?”

He snickered, sighing loudly. “You got me. I thought you were attractive. Really attractive, okay? I figured I’d see if I could catch you.”

This caught me so far off guard, I nearly fell off of the couch.

“You think I’m attractive?”

This made him belly laugh, my disbelief.

“Maggie, can I let you in on a secret?” I just nodded. He leaned his head over, whispering. “I think you’re mouthwatering.”

A sharp tingle shot up my spine, and I wriggled next to him.

The lights went down, and the crowd cheered as Falling In Reverse began their set.

Popular Monster. This show was a trip.

We watched the show, Alex and I singing along to the lyrics of nearly every song. Every so often, Noah would lean over and tell me something about the song playing, complimenting Ronnie’s artistic ability or the instrumentals. The guys all seemed to be enjoying it as well, air-guitar and drumming. 

It was just far enough away that I couldn’t tell, so I leaned into Noah. “Is Ronnie wearing fangs too?”

He nodded, lips nearly touching my ear when he spoke. “It was Oli’s idea. We all have them.”

Made sense. I smiled at him, catching his eyes wandering my face. His arm was tucked neatly behind my back now, resting on my hip. Something about the encounter changed. I didn’t feel fear anymore, rather, Noah’s presence felt safe. It felt comfortable and I felt myself craving it. The air almost lightened, my shoulders relaxing as I exhaled a breath I had been holding.

“Can I tell you something?” I nodded, leaning back in to hear him. “I’d kiss you right now, if you’d let me.”

My eyebrows shot up. He pulled his face away, running his tongue over his bottom lip. A pit opened in my stomach, causing me to swallow harshly. 

“And what if I don’t?”

He smirked, his tattooed finger coming up to swipe across my bottom lip. “That, darling, would be a tragedy.”

It was involuntary, the way my body pressed closer to him, the soft skin of his lips brushing against mine. It wasn’t quite what we wanted, but it was so close.

My self control was fading, and he knew it, his hand tightening on my hip.

“If you’d let me?”

That was it. My lips were pressed against his, molding to his mouth, and breathing into his soul. I felt the sharp tooth scrape over my skin, which elicited a hard groan from me. His other hand came up to the side of my neck, and his fingers tangled in my curls.

We lasted this way for several minutes, finally pulling away with a sharp hiss from his mouth. His eyes were feral, wild. His grip on my hair was tight. He bored into my eyes, speaking something that I couldn’t read.

We were pulled from our moment when a hand tapped my shoulder. I whipped around quickly, and his hands released me.

Alex stood, eyes wide, and smiling. “I hate to interrupt, but I’m going to run to the restroom. Just wanted you to know.”

I wiped my lips with my thumb, feeling a sharp pain. I nodded at Alex, who furrowed her brows, bending down to speak directly at me.

“Watch the fangs, babe. You’re bleeding.”

I looked down at my thumb, the deep red filling the ridges of my print.

A hand came up to wrap around my wrist, staring at my finger. He swiftly and smoothly lifted it to his lips, sucking it into his mouth. When he released me, my finger was clean.

He smiled a sheepish grin at me in response to my shocked expression. “Too weird?”

I wanted to say yes, because that was the normal person thing to say. However, given the heat that had pooled in my stomach and the way my thighs clenched together, I just shook my head.

The music was loud, booming into my chest, and I leaned back onto the couch, staring at Noah.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked me.

“That there’s no way this is real.”

He smirked. “Sometimes, it’s better to believe it’s not.”

This confused me, but he was wrapping his arm around me again, pulling me into his side, and looking down at the stage. We tried to watch the performance, we really did. But within minutes, I was in his lap, straddling his hips, and our tongues were fighting for dominance while his hands roamed up and down my legs.

I sighed, closing my eyes as his lips trailed down my jaw to my neck, nipping gently at my pulse point. He licked a stripe up my windpipe, causing me to rut against him.

“Fucking hell, Maggie.” He leaned back, and I pulled back, hands on his shoulders. “You’re so fucking amazing.” 

I blushed, leaning back down to nibble on his ear. In my peripheral vision, I caught my phone on the couch lighting up. I had four missed texts from Alex.

“Shit!” I grabbed my phone and sat back on his legs.

“Everything okay?”

I shrugged. “Alexa isn’t back, and I haven’t checked my messages. I got distracted.” I said, eyeing him mischievously.

He responded by scratching his nails down the front of my leggings.

Alexa: BABE Spencer is out here talking to Andy!!!!

Alexa: OMFG he’s looking at me. I’m going to talk to him.

Alexa: HE REMEMBERS ME FROM THE CROWD.

Alexa: He asked me to go to his balcony. I have to. It’s the one next to Noah’s. I’ll be there if you need me.

I smiled at my phone. “Such a weird night.”

“Is she okay?”

I nodded, setting my phone back down. “Yeah, uh,” I shook my head, trying to understand how this had happened. “She met Spencer Charnas, and she’s in his balcony.”

He nodded, looking apprehensive. “She’s a fan of his?”

“The biggest. She’d die for that man.”

His eye twitched at that, almost a wince. “Mm. Maybe she should stick with you?”

My face fell, confused. “Why?”

He bit his lip, glancing over to where Folio sat, who was staring directly at him. “I don’t know. Just seemed like the kind of thing you guys do.”

I nodded, falling off of his lap. “Usually, but this is kind of once in a lifetime.”

He sighed hard, his eyes glancing back up to Folio. “I wish it wasn’t.”

This was confusing, his entire demeanor had shifted.

“Are you okay?”

He worried his bottom lip with the fangs, and nodded. “You, uh,” He looked at his bandmates, who were all giving him a look. “want to see the bus? I need to get something, but I don’t want to leave you alone.”

There was something under his tone that made me almost flinch. It was as if he wasn’t giving me a choice…

“Okay? I mean, or I could wait with Alex in the next balcony?”

“No!” Noah’s voice was harsh, causing me to wince. “I mean, let her have her time. Once in a lifetime, right?”

I nodded, unsure.

“You trust me?”

I sighed, suddenly wildly unsure. “Should I?”

He nodded fervently. “Yes. You should.”

-

The tour bus was enormous. It was also a total mess. It was as if it was more lived in than an actual home. I try not to judge, but there was stuff everywhere. Drink containers, beer bottles, random garbage, clothes. The shades were drawn, and you couldn’t see outside. 

Noah turned around with a look of embarrassment on his face, a hard contrast to the persona he had on all night. He scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“Sorry, the guys said they’d clean up…I guess they forgot.”

I shook my head, giving him a warm smile. “No worries. You guys have to live here, I get it.”

He sighed. “Can I be honest?”

“I’d hope so.” I giggled, hands in my sweater pockets.

“I didn’t need to grab anything, I was just hoping for some privacy.”

My eyes widened, and I almost couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“Oh…” Suddenly uncomfortable, I began scanning the bus for all of the exits, the closest being the door behind me.

“You don’t have to stay, it was just stuffy in there and the guys are kind of really fucking nosey.”

This made me smile. “I caught that.” I pursed my lips, looking around, trying to soothe the hammering in my chest. “I could stay.”

“You sure? Oli is going to go on soon.”

I nodded. “Once in a lifetime?”

This almost made his face fall, and he leaned against the counter of the kitchenette sink. “I wish it wasn’t.”

This gave me pause, and I moved to stand next to him.

“What do you mean?”

He pulled his hat off, revealing his mop of long dark hair that was overgrown. “I just…” He trailed off. “I don’t get to have normal relationships, yaknow? Date? See people more than once? It doesn’t really happen.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Why not?”

He smirked at this, looking down at his shoes. “My lifestyle doesn’t really allow it.”

I nodded. Rockstar life had to be tough.

“Well, just because you can’t date someone, doesn’t mean you can’t be friends, right?” I won’t lie, I was slightly hopeful.

“It’s kind of more complicated than that.” 

I nodded, not wanting to press further, and an uneasy silence fell over us. After about three minutes, he finally spoke.

“I liked kissing you.”

I couldn’t prevent the grin that cracked on my lips. “I liked kissing you too.”

“I didn’t bring you back here for that. I just thought I’d mention it.”

This was one of the pivotal moments in life where you decide how it goes. Walk away? See what this is, and make the smart choice to end it? 

Or consider this the Gods giving you a gift? A one-time chance to fulfill a fantasy you would otherwise never get again?

I decided quickly that life was too fucking short, and moved to stand in front of him.

“Can we…just do what we want? Because this will never happen for me again, and I find it painfully difficult not to jump on you right now.”

He peered up at me through his lashes, his eyes pitch black. “Yeah? You’re sure? I don’t want to be a dick, but you know I can’t continue anything after tonight.”

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes for a second, and opened them with no hesitation left, staring directly at him. 

This gave him the answer he was looking for, as it took less than a fraction of a second for him to have me pinned against the wall behind me, hand on my throat, lips attacking my mouth feverishly. A smooth growl rumbled from his throat, and something inside of me clenched. 

With the grip in my neck, he guided me to spin, lifting me up onto the countertop. My legs wrapped around him instinctively, and I breathed into him, feeling his hands smooth up my legs, and push them apart so he could press himself between them.

His mouth pulled at the skin of my jaw, surely leaving bruises I’d have to explain to Alex later. When I felt the sharp point of the fans against my skin, I placed a hand on his chest.

“Noah?” He didn’t pull back, but only hummed in response as he licked and sucked on my collarbone. “Maybe you should take the fangs out?”

He stilled, frozen. This caused me to do the same, waiting for his next move.

“I can’t.”

My brain didn’t register that. “Can’t?”

“They aren’t coming out.” He breathed again on my skin, making me shiver. “Is that a problem? If it is, tell me now.”

The idea of not going further made my body physically scream, so I just shook my head, signaling for him not to stop.

His arms, strong and solid, lifted me clean off of the counter and pulled me into the hallway, our lips reconnecting. In the back of the bus held a large bedroom area, and with one hand, he slid a door shut behind us. 

He lowered me onto the mattress and became so gentle, I almost couldn’t handle it. His hands reached to unzip my sweatshirt, pulling it open to reveal my crop top. I chose to go without a bra tonight, knowing I’d be keeping my sweater on. His eyes roamed to my hardened nipples pressing against the fabric, and he bit his lip in response.

“If at any point you want to stop, tell me, okay?”

I nodded.

“Say it. Say you understand.” His voice was callous, no playfulness left.

“I understand.”

This brought a wicked smile to his face, fangs pressing out and his tongue gliding over them. “Good girl.”

He was ruthless, his hands pulling my shirt up, exposing my bare breasts, hands grasping them with force, pinching each nipple between his fingers. I yelped at the sudden painful sensation, but pressed into his touch. His knee balanced him on the bed, pressing against my core. I writhed under him, begging for friction.

“So fucking needy, darling. All in good time.”

I sucked in a breath, nearly whining at his teasing. His right hand snaked up my chest, grasping at my throat. The pressure was so much, but I couldn’t ask him to stop because it was so good, I was okay with dying right here like this.

His other hand slid down my stomach, nails scratching into my flesh, before he gripped the waistband of my leggings and tugged them down.

“Tell me how bad you want it, baby.” His fingers loosened just enough for me to speak.

“So bad. Need it. Need you.”

His eyes were roaming my body, eyes settling on the jet black panties I wore. His hand pressed flat against the fabric, making me hiss at the sensation.

“You want me to eat you? Devour you?”

I nodded frantically.

“If I do, I’m going to bite you. You alright with that?”

I froze, staring up at him, tears running down the side of my face. 

“You can say no.” His voice was smooth as honey, dripping down his lips and right into my soul.

“Please.” It came out as a breath, just the ghost of a word.

A harsh snarl left his lips, and he dropped onto the floor with lightening speed, pulling my leggings off and gripping the waistband of my underwear, ripping them apart to show my already soaked pussy.

His fingers slid through my lips before coming up to his mouth, his eyes rolling back at the taste. “Fucking stunning.” He groaned.

His mouth attacked me, licking long, flat stripes up my core, causing my hips to buck. I whimpered, trying not to make too much noise.

His hands gripped my thighs and pulled me closer to the edge of the bed, bringing me right to his face.

“No one can hear us here, baby. Fucking scream for me.” 

I let go, letting all of the harsh, vile sounds leave my throat with no restraint. His mouth sucked hard on my clit, making my vision go stark white behind my eyelids.

“Oh my God, Noah, I’m going to come, please don’t stop.”

He latched harder, a finger penetrating into me, pressing against my sweet spot and smoothing circles into it, bringing me crashing over the edge of bliss. My back lifted off of the mattress, my entire body tingling.

At the exact second my orgasm slammed into me, I felt a stinging, slicing pain on the inside of my thigh, causing me to scream out and look down. Noah’s face was still buried between my legs, but his eyes were staring directly at me. His fingers continued to massage me through my euphoria while his lips pulled at the sore spot on my thigh. When he lifted his face, my body finally calming, a deep crimson fluid sat on his lip before his tongue came up and swiped it away. 

He rested a palm flat on my stomach as my breathing slowed. “Are you okay?”

I blinked back the tears and gasped in a breath. “More, please. I need more.”

It wasn’t even me speaking anymore. My body had transcended to another plane and I was watching from a different dimension at that point.

He smiled, his teeth tinged with blood - my blood. “What’s the magic word?”

“Jesus, fuck, Noah! Please!”

His hand snatched me by my waist, flipping me over and pulling me back up so my feet were on the floor. His arm held me up, as standing wasn’t an option with the way my legs felt like gelatin. I felt the warm fluid from the wound on my thigh dripping down my leg.

He paused, reaching for a drawer and grabbing, what I assumed to be, a condom. I heard the foil open and be discarded. He let go of me for ten seconds to put it on, and before I could think about anything else, he was pushing inside of me. The feeling was achingly delicious, the stretch and burn of it. Noah was exceptional. My body fell forward, hands reaching out balance. He thrusted mercilessly, pounding me harder into the mattress, his breathing loud and deep, guttural moans escaping him.

After a few moments, and my vision slowly blurring as I began climbing the hill once again, his hand wrapped around my neck and pulled me backward to stand straight up. I whined, leaning my head back on his chest.

It was without cause, but I still asked. “Bite me again? Please?”

I didn’t want it, I needed it. I was ravenous for the pain and the feeling of him being so connected with me. 

“Don’t say that.” His words were breathless, but I was persistent.

“Please, Noah. Please.”

“God damn it.” He tightened his grip on my neck and I felt his lips touch my skin before the fangs sung in deep, piercing the thin skin just above my clavicle.

A scream pierced through me as the pain sent white hot shock waves through my body, my vision cutting out and my orgasm tearing through me. I vibrated at the stimulation of it all, and began to feel by body going slack, my skin tingling with a numbing sensation. My eyelids began to feel heavy, Noah's lips still latched to my skin. I could swear I felt a sucking feeling. That would be one hell of a hickey later.

Noah's thrusts suddenly stilled, his throat growling against me, his fingers gripping my hip violently, surely leaving bruises.

I was still riding the high of my climax when I felt everything starting to go sideways as the room began to spin. His arm wrapped around me quickly as I felt my consciousness slipping.

"Easy, baby. Easy." I hadn't even noticed him slip out of me, or unlatch from my throat.

Suddenly, his hands were gentle, laying me down on the bed on my back. Through my hooded lids, I could see him standing, tall and muscular. I could see all of him, and as badly as I wanted to savor it, I was so sleepy.

His hands pulled a soft, red blanket over me, and he put a finger up. "One second, stay here."

He disappeared out of the door, and I felt my eyes threatening to close. My brain was shutting off quickly, and it wasn't going to be optional anymore.

He came back within a minute, now wearing shorts, with a large blue Powerade, and a pack of Reese's in his hands. He set them down on the mattress next to me and slid his arms under me, lifting me up onto the pillows of the bed.

"Maggie, you still with me?"

I could only mumble in response, the pull of sleep tugging me down.

"Don't fall asleep. You need to drink this." He opened the Powerade. My hand came up to take the drink, but my fingers had very little sensation. "Here." Noah used one arm to lift me partway, and held the bottle to my lips. "Just take sips."

Once I had sufficiently drank a quarter of the bottle, suddenly feeling parched, he recapped it and began tearing open the Reese's. "Eat this, you need to increase your blood sugar and carbohydrates."

Feeling slightly more coherent, I cocked an eyebrow at him. "Why? Did that orgasm almost kill me?" I snickered, taking a peanut butter cup and peeling the wrap off the bottom.

"No, the orgasm didn't." He said pointedly, but made work of getting up and heading for the door again. I laid, slowly munching the chocolate, eyes trailing after him. I pulled the blanket up to my chin, feeling strikingly cold suddenly. I felt a numbness in my toes and fingertips. Something about it bothered me, but also didn't?

He walked back in, a damp rag in his hand. What did he need that for? He used a condom, I thought?

Noah sat next to me on the bed, and ran a hand over my cheek gently, giving me a small, comforting smile. "You feel better?"

I nodded, still chewing the second peanut butter cup. "Much."

His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Good, I'm glad."

Smoothing his hand over to my hair, he pulled it away from my neck, and pressed the damp rag to it. I winced, pain shooting up into my face.

"Christ!" He pulled his hand back, and I noticed the rag was a deep red. "Am I bleeding?"

He shushed me, moving my face back over. "Not much anymore, it's mostly stopped. This is just a little alcohol to sterilize it." He sighed as he pressed the rag to my skin. "Next, I'll clean up your leg."

My mind, suddenly clear as day, began running through all of the most ridiculous scenarios possible. Regardless of how stupid it sounded, I still had to ask...

"Noah?"

"Hmm?" He raised an eyebrow, pulling out a large bandage and unpeeling it from the paper.

"Are you an actual vampire?"

His hands stopped, and his neck snapped up at me. His eyes were deadly serious, but his lips twisted in a sick smile. "Now, why would you say something silly like that? Of course not."

"But-"

He chuckled, his body shaking, and continued applying the bandage to my neck, hand lingering on my cheek as he looked in my eyes.

"No, I'm just a guy with kinks, that's all."

Did I want to press this further?

I looked back up at him, and he smiled brightly. That's when I noticed.

"You took the fangs off."

He peered up at me, running his tongue over his teeth. "Yeah, something like that."

Noah began pulling the blanket from my leg when he stopped abruptly, his eyes shifting to the door of the room. His hand gripped my leg, and he spoke under his breath.

"Fuck." His eyes looked back at me, a panic now rising. "You have to go. Now."

He grabbed my arm, and began pulling me off of the bed gently. "Can you stand?" I heard the door of the bus open, and people speaking at the front.

The urgency in his voice was frightening, so I swung my legs over and attempted to stand. The room swayed slightly, but I managed to stay upright. I nodded at him.

"Good, okay," He stood off the bed, and ran to the other side, picking my clothes up and tossing them at me, sans my torn panties. "get dressed. I'm going to open the window, there's a ladder just outside. Climb down it and go. Fast. Go to your car, and leave."

I was stepping into my leggings and looked up at him. "I have to find Alex, first."

He huffed, frustrated, and helped me put my shirt over my head. "Don't. Just go."

Noah pulled the window open silently, and pulled me over to him once I had zipped up my sweatshirt and slipped my shoes on. "Noah, what-"

He pressed a hand to my mouth. "Please, just listen to me. Leave. Don't look for her. Just go. Fast, okay?"

My eyes welled up. The terror was back. Why was he hiding me? Was he embarrassed? Did he not want anyone to know I was here? Why didn't he want me to look for Alex?

He hands hoisted me up effortlessly, he didn't even groan when he lifted me to the window. I slipped a leg out, and turned my head to him. "Noah?"

He looked at me, eyes sparkling bright, brighter than I had seen. "Yes?"

"I hope to see you again."

The smallest smile turned his lips up. "If you're lucky, you won't."

-

Alex's phone wasn't picking up and she hadn't responded to any of my messages. Bring Me The Horizon's set was about over, and she was nowhere. Ice Nine's balcony was empty - they all were. She wasn't in the venue. She wasn't outside. She was gone.

Her last text to me had me walking behind the building, looking through the busses.

Alexa: Spencer invited me back to his bus with him and Ronnie...I can't believe this is real life!! I will text you when I'm done! ;)

I only knew which bus was Noah's, but I felt like an absolute creep looking through the others, trying to see into the windows. I was standing next to one, on my tip-toes, trying to see through the tint, when my ears picked up on something...

It sounded suspiciously like screaming...but not the kind I would expect from someone having a good time. Not the kind I just made.

I rounded the corner, finding one last bus, and noticed it appeared to be moving. This had to be it. As I approached, figuring I would just wait until she was done, it stilled, and the night went eerily silent. Something about it made my stomach drop. I considered going back and getting Noah, asking him to check it out, but I had already come to terms with the fact that whatever that was, was over.

Instead, I made a soft wrap on the door, hoping someone would answer. Nothing came, no sound or motion. I sighed. Someone was definitely in there. Maybe they fell asleep? I almost did.

I knocked harder with the same result. Eventually, I pounded, hollering. "Hello?"

My fingers reached for the handle, and I noticed the door was unlocked, the door opening easily. I looked in, and noticed it was dark, only a neon blue light emanating from the back somewhere. I stepped up the staircase, peering my head around the corner.

"Alex?"

What my eyes saw, I was nowhere near prepared for. My eyes met hers, only hers were upside down, head hanging off of the edge of the bed, tears running down the sides of her face. They were also lifeless, and so was she. She was laid on the bed, fully dressed, and blood poured from her throat and pooled on the floor. There were two men on top of her, mouths latched to her chest and throat.

I couldn't help the gasp that came out, my eyes watering at the scene. I brought my hand up over my mouth and both men looked up at me. I couldn't register what I was seeing...

Spencer Charnas and Ronnie Radke were on top of my best friend, and their faces were absolutely covered in her blood.

Their fangs shined, covered in the red viscous liquid, and harsh growling hisses came out of their mouths.

Before I could scream, a hand had grabbed the back of my sweatshirt and pulled me down the stairs, and was dragging me away from the bus. I thrashed, screaming and fighting against the person pulling me away.

"No! No! Please! Stop, please!!" A hand came up over my mouth.

"Shut up!" My eyes looked down, and through my bleary tears, I saw the tattoos. The familiar tattoos.

Noah pulled me over to another bus and pressed me against the side. He loomed over me, his eyes dark again, all of the light gone.

"I told you to fucking leave!"

I couldn't speak. I was stunned. "I...they...Alex..."

"Alex is gone." He was so matter of fact. Stern, even. A choked sob broke out of my chest.

"No, no please, you have to help me."

"I am helping you! You have to leave! Before anyone realizes you did." His hands were against the bus on either side of me. "Please Maggie, please just leave."

"Noah..." I stared at the sharp fangs. "Your teeth..."

He hung his head. "Maggie, listen to me. You were never here. You lost Alex at the concert, and she went missing. They already reported her missing to security." My eyes went wide, tears streaming. "Now, go home. Stay there. And never speak about this again. Understood?"

I didn't respond, I just glared at him. He was one of them. A monster. He drank my blood. He tried to kill me. Him and his friends...they killed Alex.

When I didn't answer, he grew impatient, slamming his hands against the bus, making me flinch.

"God damn it Maggie, do you understand?!"

I just nodded, and he let one of his arms fall. I slipped by him, but his hand caught my arm. I stopped, staring up at him.

"I'm so sorry." His eyes were soft again, but I ripped my arm from him. He looked taken back by my sudden brazenness.

"No you're not..." I took several steps forward, but I took a deep breath and stopped, turning to see him still staring at me.

"But you fucking will be."

[senditcolton]

Can I Be Close to You?

Hooking a thumb in your lover’s belt loop/pocket as a crowd surrounds you, making sure that you don’t lose them in the people.

part of my Valentine's Day prompts requested by anon | word count: 0.7k | warnings: none!

Being invited to participate in the NHL All-Star game was an achievement that not every player got to experience in their life.

Your boyfriend, Quinn, had been invited twice. And this year, he was named captain of a team.

You were extremely proud of him – not just for this, but for everything he had accomplished so far this year. And Quinn wanted nothing more than to have you by his side. So, when he asked you to come to Toronto with him and cheer him on, it was an invitation that you accepted without hesitation.

You had walked the red carpet with him. You had lingered close by when he was doing interviews. You stayed by his side as much as you possibly could. There were moments when you couldn’t be near him but whenever you were separated, he found you shortly afterwards, taking your hand back in his.

Right now, you were standing next to him in the locker room, the noise from the all the conversations around you hitting your eardrums. Quinn was currently engaged in a conversation with Petey, Brock, and the newest Canuck, Elias. The three of them were welcoming Elias to the team, the conversation started and guided by your boyfriend, the captain, still on duty even during a weekend that was supposed to be just for fun.

You weren’t participating in their conversation, instead choosing to talk to Jack who was standing close by. You had grown close to the younger Hughes, viewing him like your own brother after you and Quinn started dating. But even in conversation with an entirely different person, you still kept your body close to Quinn – like with a finger hooked through his belt loop, which was how you were attached to him at the moment.  The connection allowed you keep him close but also allowed you more freedom to do your own thing.

You were thankful for that small connection when you feel Quinn start to move. You look back, seeing his gaze set towards the exit of the locker room, his body following the direction of his eyes. You utter a quick goodbye to Jack, one that he accepts only after getting a few playful chirps in about how you two were attached at the hip. You just roll your eyes, before turning your attention fully to the figure of Quinn ahead of you.

Your finger tightens around the thin piece of denim of his jeans as Quinn pushes through the crowd of people – other players, other significant others, and staff. You conclude that he must have been summoned to do another interview, considering the quick pace at which he is walking.

It takes you by surprise when he wanders deeper into the tunnels of Scotiabank Arena, the noise and hubbub growing fainter and fainter. Eventually, he stops in the middle of an abandoned hallway, glancing around before turning his attention to you, wrapping his arms around you.

You happily accept his embrace, even as you look up at him, your eyebrow quirked in confusion.

“What are we doing here, Quinn?”

The slight blush you see form at his cheeks is endearing, those brown eyes locked onto your face.

“I just wanted to get some alone time with you. I feel like I haven’t really had the chance to talk to you since the day started.”

“You’re an All-Star, Quinny. I knew I would be sharing you with dozens of people this weekend. If I wasn’t okay with that, then I wouldn’t have come.”

“I’m really glad you came,” he says, his arms tightening around you waist, pulling you closer.

You can’t help the smile that appears on your face at his words.

“I’m really glad I came too.”

It isn’t obvious which one of you leans in first, but it doesn’t matter when your lips finally connect in a kiss.

You were so happy for your boyfriend: happy about everything he achieved, happy that you got to spend time here in Toronto with him.

But more than anything, you were happy that even during the commotion of an event of this size and caliber, you and Quinn still found time to share these quiet moments of intimacy amidst the chaos.

[vampiretendencies]

request; for the valentine's day blurbs allowing their partner to sleep in because they were overworked and needed the rest with jj

pairing; jj x fem!reader

warnings; none, fluff

authors note; today is likely the last day i’m going to be writing from these prompts, seeing that valentine’s day is now over. but if you any requests outside of those, my requests are still open.

list of prompts in honor of valentine’s day

He lived to please.

Well, you.

He lived to fulfill your every desire.

With that in mind, one could only imagine the sunken wreckage he ached with after JJ had seen your disheveled figure last night from working. Wandering into the shared apartment, with an appearance that you’d been mobbed.

JJ made it his mission today to assure you got all the rest you could possibly take.

Last night, he secretly switched off your automatic alarm after he carried you to bed, helped you get undressed, and brushed out your hair.

All in a timely manner but ever so gracefully.

That’s why this morning JJ is wide awake, due to calling into your job and telling them you were too ill— selling a lie, as he did best.

But four hours later, he found himself unable to fall bad into a slumber.

Call him a creep or an odd human being.

Simply because he was watching you sleep, mentally taking notes of every minuscule thing you’d done in your sleep and how with no effort you captured his gaze like no one else.

JJ’s head propped itself against the wooden headboard with a pillow, on his side he took all of you in. Your frame mimicked his almost— facing JJ, but lower into the mattress whilst you let out breath after breath in a peaceful state. An arm was exposed, JJ daintily glided his calloused finger tips to the memorably smooth-surfaced flesh, metal rings soothingly cool to touch. Your mouth was parted open in the slightest, hair covering the silk pillow— an angel in his presence.

Convinced that your maker had been a painter, intricately woven with a paintbrush. Features so unlike another.

And he just could not get enough of it.

Thirsting for another glance, always and at any time.

You began to stir in your sleep, limbs weak and eye lids so heavy they felt as if they been glued shut. Upon your movements, JJ’s heart soared, awaiting to bore into your heavenly affection.

“Feels like someone dropped a fucking brick on my head.”

JJ choked on a chuckle in the back of his throat, cupping your jaw— to say I’m here and I’ve been waiting for you all morning, and I’d do it all over again.

“Mornin’ to you too, baby,” the corners of his mouth pulling into a smile. A gleam of worry could be sensed on your face, and JJ already knew. Your head whisking in one motion to alarm clock by your bedside, a sense of doom washing over you, 1:55 PM.

“JJ! I missed my alarm … y-you didn’t wake me?!”

You panicked and JJ still continued to do nothing but grin.

“Relax, pretty girl. Got it taken care of.”

[thelovelylolly]

valentines special!

happy february everyone! in honor of valentines day, i'll be taking lovey dovey requests all month! i've listed some prompts below if you'd like to use those, or you can send in your ideas :)

request guidelines are here, and prompts are below the cut <3

“wait, don’t pull away…not yet.”

“you look really in cute in that sweater.”

“god, you always make me blush so damn much.”

“first second I saw you and I couldn’t get over how beautiful you were.”

“could you hold my hand?”

“I really love holding you, darling.”

“aw, you’re blushing.”

“wow, I didn’t think you could make me smile this much.”

“you don’t need to leave so soon.”

“I can’t pretend anymore.”

“I’ve loved you since the moment I first laid my eyes on you.”

“it’s you. it’s always been you.”

“there isn’t anything that I wouldn’t do for you.”

“I was made to love you.”

“I can’t bare to be away from you.”

“you’re all I can think about.”

“I am so very in love with you.”

“you are breathtaking.”

“you’re being all cute and sweet, it’s making me want to kiss you.”

“you look beautiful/handsome in the moonlight.”

“I’ll always be here for you.”

“I think I love you.”

“it’s okay. I couldn’t sleep.”

“I don’t like them, I like you.”

“it’s always been you.”

“can you picture it? you and I together?”

“will you just…hold me? please?”

“I am so proud of you.”

“I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

“I’m gonna marry you one day.”

“shut up and kiss me.”

“I’ve missed you so much.”

“I can’t stay away from you.”

“I feel strange when you’re around.”

“I’m better when I’m with you.”

*prompts are from various posts on pintrest