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#There’s a bunch of other scenes I had in mind but it was getting long lmao
rotthepoet · 3 days
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Can you do a Draco smut where him and f!reader are getting it on his room and Blaise wakes up to see them about to fuck and he asks to watch. Reader is surprisingly down for it and Draco’s ego is bigger than a fucking elephant so he fucks you in front of Blaise. Not a threesome with Blaise, just him being a perv lmao
BABES IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK A MONTH TO GET OUT!!! I WASNT IGNORING YOU TRUST. I made a few changes to your request because @2dloveshp and I have been talking about Stalker!Blaise and im about to start dropping content for him 😻
Let me set the scene for you. Draco Malfoy, your wonderful, doting, egotistical boyfriend, has decided what he wants right now: is you! So trust he’s dragging you away from your friends, mid conversation, mumbling about how its his turn for attention. But oh shit, when Draco’s dorm is supposed to be empty, you’ll never guess whose there minding his fuckin business nose deep in homework. Draco’s best friend, Blaise, of course.
And gonna be real with you, Blaise doesnt even register when the two of you walk in. It takes a solid minute of Draco pushing you into bed despite your whines about there being company that he snaps back into reality.
Draco doesnt give a shit, lowkey he brags to Blaise all the time about how good you are in bed that he doesnt really care if he sees?? Ngl the Slytherin boys prob have a groupchat where they share nudes because i think theyre all just a bunch of chavs in disguise.
Anyways! Draco is not stopping and god when he’s feeling you up like this? You’re just falling apart. No more complaints as long as draco fucks you soon.
But god the way you moan is so fucking pretty. And blaise can feel himself hardening under the desk, and fuck he’s had a crush on Draco’s girl(you) for so fucking long now.
He cant help but take note on what makes you feel good. His homework becomes a page filled with notes on how you react to each of Dracos touches. How you arch when he suckles a spot on your neck. How you mewl when he pulls your hair. One hand is furiously writing each observation while his other hand palms his boner.
And fuck he nearly chokes when Draco goes down on you, watching the way your pussy glistens with your arousal, the way you keen and beg for more and less at the same time.
He’s fucking obsessed with you. The only problem is Draco, and it shouldn’t be that hard to get rid of him.
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rrosamariaa · 2 days
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I've been thinking a lot about a remus/sirius Ministry of Magic office AU..
Often I see ppl talking about what would Sirius work with if there wasn't a war going on and he could just live his life in peace and one of my favorite headcanons is that he would be an 'Unspeakable'. Those are the ppl that work in the department of mysteries, that by itself is one of coolest things in the wizarding world, according to me. The department of mysteries is responsible for confidential studies of death, love, time etc (A lot of crazy things that honestly no one should have to mess with but obvs they do anyways...) It's high-level security place, no one besides the researchers are allowed in those chambers. No one even knows who are those researchers and what they do, actually.
Buut, its sirius we are talking about and the guy is a genius but also can be pretty reckless and, in this specific scenario, I think he would be a borderline "crazy scientist" so. He fucks up down the line. I don't know what he does, exactly, but it's something that put his and others researchers' lives at risk. Bc of that, he is sent to work in a waaay more mundane department: Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. It's a cool department!! Remember that first poa scene where harry turns aunt marge into a balloon etc? well those are the guys who they call to fix that. They even have a Obliviators division, responsible for changing Muggles' memory in case they are exposed to accidental magic. Those guys are full of themselves and annoying as hell, btw.
and I see Sirius being sent there, after The Accident. It's cool in theory, but most of the time it's puuuure paperwork and it bores sirius to no end.
well, guess who works there as well. Our guy, Remus j. lupin.
Remus isn't one to do field work so he mostly works in the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee division (god I love those long ass names). Basically he comes up with stuff to excuse magic happening in the muggle world etc. like when peter killed a bunch of muggles and the muggle paper said it was a "big gas explosion". Pure paperwork. Boring as hell.
Anyway, Sirius turns up there out of nowhere and he is the office sweetheart. It fucking boggles remus mind, like. Sirius always goes to the office parties and seems to be friends with everyone but no one knows anything about this guy. He just gets there, a almost 30 yo with a bunch of obscure work experience and no one knows what he did before that, who his family is, where he is from and how the hell does he knows the stuff that he knows.
Sirius is great at field work, he mostly works directly in the Obliviators division and remus is really great with the paperwork stuff sooo they get paired up a lot. At first, they are a bit annoyed by each other (my fav wolfstar flavor). It's funny because they actually agree with almost everything but they just approach things veeery differently and so they are bickering all the damn time. And Sirius is a Certified Little Shit™ and is constantly doing things that drives remus a bit crazy. Once they had a case of a water fountain exploding bc two wizards were fighting in a public park and instead of obliviating the muggles into believing it was only a piping problem or whatever, he went out of his way to turn it into a sort of elaborate flash mob that went viral on tiktok. Remus spent the night awake documenting everything. He wanted to strangle sirius that day.
between late nights working and lots of crazy field work (thanks to sirius) those two end up getting closer and closer. Remus still thinks Sirius is a bit insane, but now in a I-want-you-to-fuck-me-into-this-desk type way. Sirius, on the other hand, doesn't let go of his previous research. I think that back then he would, specifically, study and experiment a lot with Love, in special familial love (yep.) The thing about those confidential dept. of mysteries' experiments is that they can be pretty... unethical. And that's the break point of their story: Remus finding out about Sirius research and finally wondering at what lengths did sirius went to understand something as complicated as Love and what the fuck he did to get banished from the department back then, and worse: if he ever used remus in those experiments. and even more worse: The fact that remus doesn't stop loving him even if he did.
A last fun fact is that they, at one point, would have an inside joke about that "MIB: man in black" movie, they watched it together one late night and sirius kept referencing it when he went to obliviate muggles and remus thought it was the funniest silliest thing ever
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brendathedoodler · 2 years
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Ooh I love this concept, can tell me I guess some differences between the journey you thought out so far?
Most of my focus so far has been on the differences in their previous adventures and how it might affect their interactions with each other, rather than any specific plot points on the journey itself. I do have some ideas, though!
First: the meeting. All the links are tossed through a portal all of a sudden and end up in an unfamiliar era with each other. Some handle it better than others.
Wind has seen enough portals in his life to know how this usually goes. Yup, another adventure. He’d been expecting it, since his last adventure had just ended.
Hyrule takes it very well too, especially once he sees Sky and Time. He recognizes them both from a few years prior. For him, anyway. The war across ages was almost 20 years ago for Time, and a mere 3 months for Sky. Poor Sky was just settling down from the war and was in the middle of a much needed nap when the portal yoinked him.
Twilight had a moment of panic when he couldn’t find Midna, but soon she’s back to resting in her spot on his shoulders and he can focus on the situation at hand.
Warriors is cautious and staying back, letting the other links interact with one another first before he joins. He’s used to danger, and doesn’t trust the others at first.
Wild panicked right away, since he couldn’t feel his loftwing anywhere. They’re soul bound, so he knows full well that his loftwing isn’t anywhere near them. His loftwing was his guide since the day he lost his memories, so having that comforting presence taken from him isn’t something he handles well.
The one who takes it the worst is Legend. His adventure took him through many different dimensions (all of which had been put in danger through Zant’s attempt to conquer the Twilight Realm), and his experience with portals is not good at all. He’s quick to lash out at the others, grief stricken and fearing that he’s lost everything all over again.
Beyond the first meeting, there are a few distinct plot points!
The first revolves around Wind. Being the youngest but having the most experience is a tricky thing. Wind is used to people underestimating him. It happens time and time again; every new adventure comes with a new set of people asking him if he’s too young for this. Having his fellow heroes go out of their way to protect him irks him when normally it doesn’t.
Another scene is meeting Marin. By the time this happens, they’ve passed through a few eras that the others recognize, and Legend has stopped showing so much animosity towards the others now that he knows he’ll be able to return home. Legend likes to be a bit mysterious, and hasn’t revealed much about his girlfriend, but he has dropped some hints about her. They arrive at Legend’s place, and he leaps into the pond next to his house. Before he can hit the water, a very large mermaid snatched him out of the air and drags him under (much to everyone’s alarm). He surfaces a moment later, telling them to stop gawking and put their stuff inside, he’ll join them in a minute. Legend doesn’t surface for another half hour, but when he does emerge from the pond, he introduces everyone to Marin! Immediately everyone is teasing him. He’s very easy to get a rise out of.
There’s plenty of other little scenes, but that’s all I have for now.
(Have a pic of Marin and Legend in his mermaid form, taking place sometime during his adventure)
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ikeuverse · 1 month
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I HATE YOU — l.heeseung
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PAIRING: best friend's brother!heeseung x fem!reader  GENRES: fluff, humor, smut  WC: 10.7k+
WARNINGS: lots of swearing, arguments, mention of drinking, parties. reports of sex scenes, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex (use caution and protection).
SYNOPSIS: you and your best friend's brother hated each other, almost as a matter of course between the two of you. but something changes when you wake up in his bed at the weekend.
NOTES: i think this story has been in my subconscious for so long, idk why it took me so long to write it. it smells a lot like heeseung to me, so nothing was more fitting than doing it for him. i hope you like it!
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The rule of life is clear when you have a best friend and she has an older brother. Either you fall in love with him, or you don't get along with him and you both hate each other. In your case, more specifically, the second option would fit like a perfect glove. It was like a combo in your background to be best friends with Dahyun, and hate Heeseung, her brother. Not that you'd do it alone, he contributed to every ounce of your body boiling with rage for him.
As if he had been born to unleash the purest feeling of rage in your heart just by entering the room and breathing. But it wasn't as if you nurtured that alone either. Heeseung had the same great anger towards you because, according to him, it was because of you that Dahyun stopped being the innocent little girl she was.
It wasn't a good excuse compared to the times he'd taken you seriously. Still, even so, Heeseung felt angry just being in your presence and knowing that you went to his house and he couldn't do anything but make you angry until he heard you swear at him or try to throw something in his direction. Dahyun was the balance bridge to try to maintain an ounce of harmony between the two of you while you were all together, although it was almost impossible to maintain a pleasant atmosphere whenever you and Heeseung were in the same environment. Which was practically all day long.
There wasn't a single moment when you could get rid of him or he of you, because unfortunately – or fortunately – you were Dahyun's best friend. You met her before you even knew that your best friend had a completely asshole brother. He swore that Dahyun having a friendship would be a quiet thing because she was never one to have many friends. Heeseung would be lying to say that he wasn't looking forward to meeting the first person his younger sister had befriended after entering university.
He just didn't expect you to be introduced to him when Dahyun had her first binge at the frat party, with you holding her hair and introducing yourself as her best friend.
So it's this crazy girl who's my sister's friend? Heeseung's anger may have started first, but you certainly felt it more intensely as the months went by.
Heeseung always found you with Dahyun at insane moments, like the pool party where you lent your best friend your most revealing bikini. That night you threw him into the pool because you two argued, but before you could regret it, he pulled you in with him, getting you wet before you could show off your hours of hard work to maintain the beautiful, wavy hair that took so long to make.
War had been declared, and at every party you and Heeseung attended, something always happened to emphasize how the two of you couldn't stay on the same radar and in the same environment for so long.
Not this last time.
The remnants of last night invaded your mind like a little dream, where you knew it was far from a fantasyland. Friday night was party day at some frat house or at some rich person's house who could afford to buy drinks for a bunch of horny, partying college kids. You and Dahyun always went together, because at the end of the night, you would sleep at her house. And of course that happened. You just didn't expect to be in another Lee's bed.
You took a deep breath after you realized what had happened, remembering the exact moment when you argued with Heeseung. Nothing new for the two of you. But that night something seemed different about the way you and he argued about absolutely everything, like the amount of drink he poured himself. Or how you had accepted a drink from a guy who had handed you a glass because he was going to play and didn't want to drink anymore, Heeseung had scolded you for being reckless and, even if you were, if that had made him angry, then you had done the right thing.
But why were his eyes dark and shiny when he cornered you in the kitchen to swear at you? And why did you lean too far towards him when he tried to take the glass from your hand? The reason was canonized at that moment, with you wrapped in Heeseung's sheets.
The memory of his lips pressing down hard on yours to shut you up, your body almost turning to porridge when he softened to kiss you properly. And why on earth did you give in? Why did you kiss him back looking like you needed it? Your mind knew you did, but never, under any circumstances, would the two of you say that that need was blatant and that you were both waiting for what had happened.
Your thoughts were soon interrupted when a weight slid around your waist. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you close. You effortlessly felt Heeseung's chest pressing against your back. Your whole body stiffened for a few seconds but relaxed – without any explanation – when his hand rested on your stomach and his breath hit the back of your neck.
That breath you felt against your lips after he kissed you, as he whispered one last curse when he took you to his car and then brought you to his house. Heeseung's breath against your skin with every touch he made, with every kiss, sent shivers down your spine. You didn't want to think about the effects he had caused in just one night, while all those months later the only thing you felt for him was anger and disgust. But no, last night it was anything but that that you felt for each other.
You began to wonder how you were going to get out of there. Or worse, how you were going to bump into Dahyun and explain to her that, strangely enough, you had ended up in her brother's bed. It couldn't have been an accident because neither of you got drunk enough to blame it on alcohol, so what? What would you say when asked why you slept with Heeseung?
An involuntary sigh left your lips when he moved again, pressing you a little closer and nestling his face in the crook of your neck. Inhaling all your scent as if it were normal and he'd done it a million times before.
“It's not possible that you're actually doing this” your voice came out without thinking, not at all cordial or subtle as he continued to inhale your scent. You wanted to curse yourself even more as soon as you heard Heeseung's morning laugh. Rude, low, a real sin for your poor body that was processing everything that was still going on.
“What? I don't even get a good morning?” he asked in the same tone as the laugh and every word coming out of his mouth was truly a sin. You'd seen Heeseung after waking up countless times, but it wasn't as if you saw him seconds later as was happening now. Usually, it was a while later, his voice was normal at least, although his face was puffy from sleep and his hair slightly mussed. But it was nothing compared to what you were hearing at that moment.
“You're an idiot, you little shit” your hand went over his hand that was still on your stomach, trying to pull it away “I hate you, now let me go.”
As expected, Heeseung did the opposite of what you asked. Pulling you closer to him and, with the strength he was holding you with, he managed to turn you around and make your body face him.
“You hated moaning my name last night” he smiled with half-lidded eyes “Now why are you playing hard to get?” there was the Heeseung you remembered hating, even though he was so hot in a sleepy, lazy way. You held back with your hands to pull his face in and kiss him, messing up his hair even more and getting lost in those lips that were claimed as yours last night.
“Because—” your voice died right there, you had no answer to that. You didn't know why you were playing hard to get after having slept with him of your own free will.
The victorious smile on Heeseung's lips made you slap his chest, feeling the skin beneath your fingers. Remembering how you touched him and how he felt every shiver go through him every time your fingers slid across him and interspersed with your nails. Heeseung knew that some part of his body was marked by you, but he honestly didn't care.
Your eyes rolled down as soon as you noticed that he was shirtless, looking under the covers as much as you could. He wasn't wearing anything over it and didn't even seem to care about covering his chest when your eyes locked on the spot, your hands still gripping his chest ready to slap it again in case any silly jokes were made. But your face heated up when you noticed that, if he wasn't wearing a T-shirt, you were wearing his.
Heeseung noticed the way you recorded it all, and although it was amusing, he remembered how hot you had looked after putting on his T-shirt to sleep. With nothing underneath, just his clothes covering the curves of your body that he touched, kissed, and marked. And he'd be a dead man if he confessed that he wanted to do it all over again.
“You didn't like wearing my shirt?” he asked, breaking the silence that had settled between the two of you “Just take it off, I remember you're not wearing anything underneath anyway.”
“I hate you!” you let out a shriek, hitting him in the chest again before pulling the covers off your body so you could get out of bed in search of your clothes.
“Right, if it makes you sleep better at night, then I hate you too” he muttered, rolling his body across the bed to lie where you had been seconds before. Secretly smelling your scent on his pillow, as you searched for your clothes on his bedroom floor at that moment.
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Hearing about the fine line between modern and contemporary art history was wonderful for you, one of your favorite classes. The grace with which the professor explained it so passionately, highlighting important points that you made a point of writing down in your notebook with a lilac-colored pen that Dahyun had lent you at the beginning of the class. It took up most of your thoughts from the moment you arrived on campus, taking your focus away from the fact that a few days ago you were lying on Heeseung's bed. And now you were sitting next to his sister sharing one of your classes.
Your thoughts traveled to another subject now… Did Dahyun know that you and Heeseung had had sex? It wouldn't be something to hide from your best friend, having heard from her a few times that the two of you had some kind of repressed hard-on. Of course, that made you and Heeseung even angrier, but it turned out to be true last weekend.
Dahyun was right, after all, and you didn't want her to be. Or did you?
“Y/n” she called your name in a whisper, making you turn your head to face her “The boys are waiting for us in the study room, do you want to go now or do you want to stop by for coffee?”
Back to the normal schedule where you would have to live with Heeseung and try to put aside what had happened between the two of you. Or at least try to. Carry on with your routine and chores and not pay attention to him like you always did.
Class ended and you felt your body dragging alongside Dahyun through the corridors to the campus cafeteria. It wasn't a long way, but dividing your energy between the class and the thoughts that flooded your mind had left you tired. The salted caramel coffee you always ordered might have some effect on your body right now.
And you were more than right.
After paying for the drink and some treats, the straw rolled around your lips as you sipped the drink that was your comfort. You could hear Dahyun's laughter every time the taste of coffee impregnated your tongue and you moaned with satisfaction. The whole way to the study room was filled with these moments that the two of you shared as you sipped your drinks and tried to balance the takeaway bags.
“Am I seeing a mirage or did you bring food?” Jay almost knelt to thank you and Dahyun when you entered the study room.
“Are you guys hungry or something?” she asked, stepping in front and placing the bag of food on the small table around some cushioned armchairs.
“Our class finished early and someone forgot to stop by the convenience store” Sunghoon sat down on the floor, legs crossed and his face almost shoved into one of the bags to look for something that interested him. Finding a filled brownie, he took it without asking permission, even though he didn't need to.
“He's in over his head, isn't he?” Jake nudged Heeseung, who had been quiet the whole time since you and Dahyun arrived.
Looking at your best friend, you saw her sit down next to Jake as if it were something mechanized as if she had to be there without any kind of effort. It was cute how close the two of them always were. But your mind went into overdrive because as she sat next to him, the only seat left was next to Heeseung.
“What?” he asked, shaking his body at the slight shock Jake had caused him. Adjusting his posture in the armchair, Heeseung swallowed as soon as he felt a weight next to him, indicating that you had sat there.
“You forgot to stop by the convenience store to pick up some food” Jay grumbled “What are you thinking, man? You haven't answered us since you came to class today.”
Playing the misunderstood had been a mutual agreement with everyone in the room. They had seen you and Heeseung leave together, but if neither of you had mentioned anything, none of them would do it. Playing the game of not knowing anything about you and him was the best thing. At least until that moment.
“I'm just sleepy, don't fight me” Heeseung grumbled, stretching more than usual so that he could annoy you, as he had done ever since the two of you met. He could hear you taking a deep breath next to him, holding back a little so as not to swear at him before the study session even started.
Heeseung mentally thanked his friends for the lame excuse he'd given, because they all started to engage in side conversations as he slipped a glance in your direction. Your fingers held the coffee cup with a certain lightness, your thumb circling the cardboard that was possibly warm against his skin. Heeseung suppressed a smile, thinking about how your fingers had touched his body a few days ago.
He didn't want to think about anything involving the night you two had spent together, but even though it was recent, seeing you so close hit him hard. It was as if his mind betrayed him the very moment you sat down next to him and did the bare minimum to be noticed. There was no way Heeseung could think of anything other than you. The way you brought the cup to your lips and drank the coffee, for example. It made him think of your mouth kissing him, how easily your lips turned red as the kiss got more and more intense. How your mouth looked like the perfect shape of his cock when you wrapped it around you and sucked it, giving him the best blowjob of his life.
Fuck Heeseung, stop thinking about it. He told himself, or he'd get turned on just associating every single thing you did with the way he had you in his room, under his body, and in his bed.
The only way to make his thoughts go away and him not think like that was to irritate you, bring up the atmosphere of the argument you had with him, and thus get his friends to intervene and completely change the course of Heeseung's thoughts. And the way he thought was by taking the coffee cup from your hand, bringing it to his lips, and taking the last sip.
“Hey” you said loudly enough, trying not to shout because the study room was next to the university library “You ruined my coffee, you idiot.”
“I was thirsty, sorry” Heeseung pouted his lips, feeling the taste of salted caramel all over his tongue. He ran the tip of his tongue between his lips to wipe away any coffee residue. He just didn't expect your attention to be on his mouth. Without hesitation, your eyes traced the path of his mouth and the way his tongue traced his lower lip. That sparked something inside Heeseung because it showed that you were thinking along the same lines as he was.
“You're a real idiot” you said quietly this time, trying to look away as Heeseung bit his lower lip.
He leaned in a little but didn't manage to get close enough to tease you because he felt the famous slap on the chest that you gave him when he said something stupid. Ever since that morning in his bed.
“Ouch, that hurt” he cringed, dodging the next slap you'd give him. For the first time, the dynamic between you and Heeseung was a little closer and more physical. Usually, the two of you didn't sit near each other or you couldn't get there in time to hit him, Jay or Sunghoon always managed to hold you back first.
“Hey, stop it, you two” Jake broke off from an interesting conversation he was having with Jay, sharing a packet of sweets with Sunghoon in the process.
“It's not like you guys had sex at the weekend” Dahyun yawned, throwing the full weight of her head on Jake's shoulder.
“What?” you and Heeseung shouted at the same time.
Their eyes widened, their breathing quickened and their faces heated up as they looked at the four of them sitting in front of them. So they knew, but how? You and he had tried to be discreet the whole time, and you hadn't said anything to Dahyun, considering Heeseung's astonishment, showing that he hadn't said anything to his friends either.
“Come on, we saw you two leaving the party together” Jay sighed “We agreed not to say anything until one of you spoke.”
“But you're still fighting” Jake pouted.
“By the way” Dahyun squeezed the cup between her fingers, the coffee long since finished and she just needed something to munch on while she talked to Jake “I could hear you two when we got home” she looked at Jake for a few seconds, then at you and Heeseung. They exchanged frightened, embarrassed glances.
A hole could be dug right there that you wanted to bury yourself in and never get out of. There was no escaping it and no escape from your friends' looks and playful smiles. There was also no way you could face Heeseung after everything you'd heard, so your only way out was to make an excuse that you needed to go to the library to get a book to start studying. You left the room as quickly as you could and entered the door at the end of the corridor.
At least it was quiet there and you wouldn't hear any of your friends talking about you and Heeseung having sex, or about how they knew all along and didn't tell either of you. It hadn't been long since it happened, but you'd been with Dahyun all morning and Heeseung had probably spent a lot of it with some of the boys he shared a class with. So they waited for you to give them a break to say it out loud?
“Holy shit” you whispered to yourself, leaning on one of the shelves in a vast aisle of encyclopedias. Nothing there was of interest to you and you didn't necessarily need any of those books, but it had been the first aisle you'd found to enter and browse the various shelves in search of clearing your mind.
“It really is shit” the voice settled in your ears and went straight to your skin, sending shivers down your spine and making your heart race. Your heartbeat accelerated more than usual when you turned around and noticed Heeseung just a few steps away.
“What the fuck are you doing here? Go away!” you whispered at him, turning to one of the shelves to pick up any stupid books. If you'd never read encyclopedias before, that day could be your first. Then you'd be too busy reading and not paying attention to the boy who was slowly approaching you.
“I had to leave too, I couldn't stand that embarrassment alone” he said in the same tone as yours, stopping right behind you as he noticed your feat in trying to open a heavy book that had nothing to do with the classes you were attending “Besides, I came to tease you for being too scandalous” Heeseung's breath hitched against your ear, his lips almost kissing your skin.
You turned sharply, the book wobbling in your hands from the weight of it and the force with which you turned. But your reflexes were good enough to hold it steady while you stared at it.
“Me? Scandalous?” your indignation was palpable, along with your anger that was beginning to grow inside your chest at him and the arrogant smile he had “What do you mean?”
“That you moaned so loudly that my sister heard!”
“Motherfucker” you almost forgot you were in the library, wanting to scream in his face and curse him with every swear word you could think of “I didn't moan that loud.”
“Yes, you did” he said.
“No, I didn't” you answered back, not realizing that you had taken a step forward and leaned your body against his. Heeseung took the opportunity to take the book from your hands, the weight shifting to his arms as he put it back on the shelf. Now having full access to you and your body in front of him.
He knew you hadn't moaned out loud, not least because he managed to shut you up every time. Making you moan against his mouth or listening closely when your mouth was close to his ear, having the most beautiful moan Heeseung had ever heard in his entire life.
“On a scale of zero to ten, if I say you moan scandalously…” Heeseung began, his speech somewhat meek “How angry will you be?”
“Ten, obviously” you hadn't even hesitated to answer, regretting it the second he smiled.
“So you moan too scandalously” such a simple sentence, but one that practically tore away the last bit of calm you had with Heeseung. Not that it ever really existed, but at least you tried inside the library.
As if it was the right thing to do, you raised your hand to hit him as you had been doing so often in the last few moments, but he acted quickly. So fast that neither of you could process it. Heeseung's long fingers wrapped around your wrist and he pulled you against his chest, wrapping his free arm around your waist to press you down and give you no chance to escape. The warmth of his fingers against your skin made you hold your breath and close your eyes, almost like a memory of what was about to happen.
It was the perfect cue for Heeseung to lean towards you and touch the tip of his nose to yours. His breaths mingled and his eyes closed to revel in the sensation of being so close to you again.
He wanted to touch your mouth, kiss you, and be able to leave with you. To remember the softness of your lips and how perfectly your mouths fit together as if the two of you had learned everything from each other. Even though the two of you shared hurried, slow kisses, none of them were disproportionate or out of rhythm. You and Heeseung managed to find harmony and synchronicity in every movement.
“Oh, shit” Jay's voice made you and Heeseung break apart quickly, startled by the closeness and realizing that if the brunette hadn't arrived, you and he would have kissed right then “Sorry, I—”
“You owe me lunch for a week” Dahyun appeared beside him, smiling openly as her eyes landed on you and Heeseung. He didn't need to look at you to know that you also shared a confused, albeit frightened, expression as to why Jay and his sister were there in the library.
“What did you two bet?” Heeseung asked the dreaded question, opening and closing his fists and holding back the urge to touch you again, even if it was in front of the two who were still there.
“That you and Y/n would be kissing” Jay said “But the two of them never actually kissed, so I don't owe you anything.”
“Yes, you do!” Dahyun protested, pushing Jay out of the hallway and leaving you and Heeseung completely unresponsive.
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It would have been a smart idea to avoid going to any parties after what happened, in case you both regretted it. But that wasn't exactly it.
As the week went by, the teasing between Heeseung and you continued with a little more intensity, adding to the spice of what had happened between you, and now things had become a little more physical. Like him having to get too close to you and touch your hair after getting on your nerves, or how your hand wrapped around his arm – unnecessarily – so you could avoid Heeseung when he was near the kitchen counter teasing you before you left and went to his sister's room.
Things were getting heated and neither of you made any move to actually stop or that it wasn't affecting you anymore, quite the opposite. As the touching persisted or you paid too much attention to each other's actions, things got more and more complicated.
That was why Heeseung now found himself with a red glass in his hand, bringing it to his lips and feeling the bitter taste of alcohol go down his throat. He could have refused to go to that party after Sunghoon insisted, with the excuse that the class had been terrible. Even though he had slept through most of it. At least they were at Yeonjun's parent's house, the rich boy and Jake's friend who always gave up his house when the fraternities hadn't recovered after a few parties over a short period.
At least there was somewhere to sit, a room without too many people and the music wasn't too loud. The pool room that the boys usually went to when they wanted to escape the crowds, but didn't want to leave the party completely.
“Man, I love it when we’re here” Yeonjun sighed, sitting across from Heeseung and next to Jay “I wanted to run away from Stacy all night.”
“Is she annoying you?” Jay held back a laugh.
Talking about girls was the main topic when Yeonjun was around, and it wasn’t such a bad thing. Sharing experiences and even talking about how their current relationships were going, just as Jake made a point of praising Dahyun and how the two of them were getting along better and better. At some point in the conversation, Heeseung didn’t even bother to share anything, feeling shy for the first time. You had been the last girl he slept with, and talking about it, about the intimacy you two shared made him embarrassed. It wasn’t that he would brag every time he got with someone, on the contrary, the poor boy was the most teased because he rarely kissed a unit on the mouth at a party.
Maybe it was his chance to say that he had finally kissed someone after so long. But he wanted to keep it all to himself as if he felt jealous of sharing every detail about you.
“And you, Heeseung” Yeonjun called him as if he could read his thoughts. “Did you finally have sex?”
Sunghoon choked on his half-drunk drink, biting the plastic cup as he looked at his friend and noticed the shocked expression on his face. Yeonjun didn’t know anything about what had happened, especially since he wasn’t that close to you and Dahyun. He knew you two by sight and exchanged a few words because you were always around, but it’s not like he knew everything about you.
“He definitely had sex” Jake bit his lips to keep from smiling “Guess who?”
There wasn’t a single name that crossed Yeonjun’s mind, it was so difficult to associate Heeseung with anyone. Just like they associated Jake with Dahyun or Yeonjun with Stacy. Heeseung didn't have anyone on his radar, and the boys didn't know which girl had ever mentioned his name as a possible sexual companion.
A short period of silence fell over the room, and Jay's impatience quickly cut through.
"Y/n" he said.
“What?” it was Yeonjun’s turn to almost choke on his drink when he decided to take a sip of his beer. “Don’t you two, like, hate each other more than anything in the universe?”
I thought so, Heeseung had that answer on the tip of his tongue, almost wanting to say it out loud.
“So our dear Lee has a powerful dick” Yeonjun joked.
“Dude, we can ask Y/n if he has a small dick or not” Jay suggested.
“That’s cute, we’re finally going to know about his dick” Jake faked a cute voice, pouting and everything to get in on the joke.
“I don’t have a small dick, you idiots” Heeseung wanted to sound angry, although that joke was always there. Talking like that or about sexual performance with some girl… It would be disgusting if it was a conversation that happened often, but it wasn’t. It was just at times when they all wanted to escape from everything, to be in a universe where only boys existed and they could talk about anything.
A laugh filled the room before Heeseung or any of the boys could respond. Turning to the door, there you were. Standing with your hand on the doorknob and the other holding the plastic cup.
“Y/n!” Jay called out to you excitedly.
“Hey Y/n, is it true that Heeseung—” Yeonjun was interrupted by a flying plastic cup, hitting him in the chest as Heeseung threw it.
You had heard the entire conversation before entering the wrong room, looking for a bathroom to pee in. Your eyes scanned the room, seeing how relaxed and happy the boys were, far from those people you were starting to get bored with.
“Wrong door, sorry, boys” you waved and smiled at all of them, stopping your eyes on Heeseung for a long moment. Analyzing every inch of his body. Every piece of clothing adorned that man’s curves very well. Wide pants, white tank top, and leather jacket. A cardinal sin was that his hair was slicked back and the silver chain showing well above the collar of the tank top he was wearing. Luckily for you, the music was loud enough that no one could hear the force with which you swallowed when you noticed Heeseung’s collarbone was more exposed than usual. Waving to all of them, you closed the door as quickly as you opened it.
He tried to process what had just happened. Did your laughter indicate that you had heard the conversation, giving the boys room to think that he had a small dick? It wasn't possible… Heeseung couldn't believe it, even though it was true as he started to hear his friends making fun of your reaction.
If she laughed, it was because she agreed.
Does he really have a small dick?
Shit, Heeseung, she's teasing you.
He didn't want to hear anything from his friends anymore, the small flame of anger consuming him for teasing him like that in front of his friends. It wouldn't stay like this. Heeseung wouldn't let you get away with it, just like you almost didn't let him get away with it on library day.
Without time for goodbyes or small talk, Heeseung left the room in a hurry, opening the door and closing it without giving time for protests or for any of the boys to follow him. Now, in the middle of the small crowd in the hallway, he dodged some dancing and sweaty bodies, looking everywhere in search of you or his sister who, perhaps, could know where you were. Heeseung had a small spark of hope that he could find you before you went somewhere he couldn't find anymore. Or worse, that you started to feel tired and drunk enough to want to leave.
Running down the stairs, he reached the ground floor in record time, even with some people getting in his way. Heeseung walked from one room to the other, his eyes increasingly attentive to the people, scanning the place until he finally found you. Standing at one end of the table with glasses piled up in front of you, while his sister was at the other end with a few more girls.
“My turn to play,” one of them said, excited enough to grab the ball and throw it before it fell into one of the cups. She and Dahyun celebrated that you would have to drink, and from the look on your face, it wasn’t that good.
Heeseung took hurried steps towards the table, watching you take the ball out of the cup and drink all the contents inside.
“How disgusting” you stuck your tongue out, making a fake vomit sound before discarding the empty cup right next to you. “Now it’s my turn” but your turn didn’t come. Before you could even throw the ball into one of the cups in front of Dahyun and the other girl, Heeseung grabbed your arm and slid his fingers through your hand until he took the ball out. “What the fuck—”
“I need to talk to you” he said.
“Oh, that’s our girl, finally Y/n!” you wanted to ignore those comments, especially because Heeseung’s eyes were so intense and focused only on you. He didn’t care that the girls were joking about that situation, or how Dahyun was saying some teasing things in a playful tone. As if his gaze was capable of erasing everything around him and leaving only the two of you in the center of everything.
“Heeseung.”
“I said I need to talk to you, let’s go” he threw the ball to Dahyun, grabbing your arm again to get you out of there as quickly as possible.
Strangely you didn’t protest, just accepting the boy in front of you leading the way out of the party and through the front door. The air that hit your skin almost made you shiver, but Heeseung’s touch was capable of warming everything in your body without giving you a chance to feel the cold outside environment.
He stopped walking as soon as the two of you passed through the entire front yard, the sidewalk almost devoid of anyone around. Everyone was lying on the lawn or the porch, except for the excessive amount that was already inside Yeonjun's parents' huge house.
“What do you need to talk to me about?” you finally asked, letting your voice be heard by Heeseung after a while of silence between the two of you. He then let go of your arm, turning towards you to face you. Looking around a little, he wanted to make sure that he wouldn't be interrupted or, worse still, that someone would hear your conversation. People had a slight impression that you and Heeseung always argued, but the only ones who listened attentively to this were your friends and his sister. Heeseung didn't want anyone else to know about these little details.
“You heard the boys’ conversation upstairs, didn’t you?” he asked you. His tone was usually serious, but with a hint of anger that was always directed at you.
“Wanting to know if you have a small dick? Yeah, I heard you” you laughed a little, regretting it the second Heeseung approached you. His eyes were glazed over anywhere on your face, at least you knew where he was looking. His chest rose and fell in a rapid breath as he leaned in enough to be able to look you in the eyes without losing your attention.
“Do you find this funny, Y/n?” his low tone of voice never had any effect on you, on the contrary, it always instigated you even more to tease him. Smiling now and then, pushing Heeseung’s buttons when he seemed mad at you. But this time it was different, his voice seemed to fade away as he said things to you that way. The look still in your eyes, now falling to your lips “So you think I have a small dick?”
“I didn’t say anything about that—” you were quickly interrupted.
“Answer my question” he said “Do you think I have a small dick?” Heeseung’s hand touched your waist, pressing his fingers tightly against the spot before pulling you against his body.
You swallowed any sound that could come out of your lips so as not to give him the satisfaction of seeing the effect he was having on you. Your pride spoke louder at least at that moment.
Thinking of all the possibilities that could answer his question, something popped into your mind. The instinct of rivalry and fight between the two of you couldn’t end so soon, and you knew that a remnant of the old Y/n that started all this with Heeseung still lived inside you. So you did the right thing by whispering those words.
“On ​​a scale of zero to ten, how angry will you be if I say yes?”
Heeseung felt like an idiot for letting a smile appear on his lips so easily, especially because of you.
“We’re going home right now, tell my sister to go with Jake” he said, not taking his hands off your waist until he took you to the car and they left that party.
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You were both experiencing a little deja vu from the first night you were together, but something at that moment seemed to be a little slower. You arrived at the apartment without much of a rush because Heeseung drove carefully; the city streets at that time were not a safe place to speed, even if he was in a hurry. The silence in the building's elevator was not uncomfortable, much less the rustling of the keys when he opened the apartment door.
The path to his room was led by him, with dragging and slightly nervous steps – which you didn't notice and he was grateful – because you were equally nervous. The last time you made this path, you were in Heeseung's arms and with your mouth glued to his. Shy giggles and messy words were said as the two of you tried to balance each other until you entered his room.
When you entered the room again, the smell of Heeseung's cologne was still in the air. The same smell he had all over his clothes and inside the car, showing that when he had put on perfume a few hours before going to the party, the smell still lingered in the air. Your eyes searched around in search of some recognition, mentally cursing yourself for remembering practically everything. The shelf with trophies he had won, video games stacked perfectly next to each other, some dolls and superheroes. Nerd stuff that you had played with him for so long outside of that environment, but being in Heeseung's personal space and taking a good look at it was something new for you.
At that moment your thoughts flew to the boy in front of you who, delicately, wrapped his hands around your waist this time. The tender touch was a total opposite of what the two of you had been having lately, about everything that involved you and him. Heeseung pulled you closer, his forehead slowly touching yours, while one of his hands left your waist to touch your face. The touch of his fingers against your skin immediately made you close your eyes.
“Do you miss being here?” he asked in a playful tone, but the softness of that question made you wonder if you really missed being there. Even though it was the second time you had stepped into Heeseung's room under those circumstances.
“You're the one who misses having me here” you teased.
“Maybe so” he shrugged, smiling when you seemed surprised by his sudden confession, but you didn’t dare open your eyes. Shy enough not to be able to look at Heeseung while he was still caressing your face.
You had both consumed a little more alcohol than the last time you did this, but still, neither of you managed to get to the point of getting drunk. There was no way you could tell him that you drank too much at the games with Dahyun and the girls, and much less could Heeseung use the excuse that he was drunk with the boys. Again, you were both in that situation because you wanted to be.
“Y/n” he whispered your name, taking you out of the little trance where you could only hear your calm breathing and your heartbeats against each other due to the proximity of your body to his.
“Yeah” you answered.
“Can I kiss you again?” the first time he didn’t ask for permission in that scenario, Heeseung’s lips were simply against yours. But now, there inside his room, everything seemed different. All the tenderness and calm that you were strangely enjoying, while he didn't know exactly why he was caressing you so lovingly and asking permission for something he had already done.
“Yes, please” your answer surprised him more than it surprised you. You even said please, something that had never happened to him. Usually the only thank you you gave Heeseung or the only word of cordiality you said to each other was the famous good morning, and when Dahyun still insisted on the two of you.
Finally, Heeseung's lips pressed against yours, the soft touch of his mouth sliding over yours before he opened his mouth and urged you to do the same. Heeseung's chin slowly pressed against yours to keep your mouth open and enter his tongue into your cave, searching for your tongue and intertwining the two gently.
Although there was urgency in each touch, in how he wanted to kiss you and how you wanted to be kissed by him, something unsaid – but understood – was that you both wanted to enjoy that strangely pleasurable moment for both of you. Your hands went up to make contact with the collar of the jacket he wore, running your thin fingers under the leather before grabbing Heeseung's shoulders. Your skin against his made him sigh during the kiss, bringing you closer and walking with you towards the bed. Stopping only when his calf touched the wood indicating that he had reached where he wanted.
He was the first to stop kissing you, placing small kisses on your chin until he reached your jaw, where he lightly scraped his teeth and smiled when he saw the skin on your neck start to get goosebumps. You didn't want to be left behind, so your hands forced themselves on his shoulders to loosen his jacket and make it fall halfway down his arms. Heeseung grew impatient with that piece of cloth and soon got rid of the jacket, not bothering to throw it on the bedroom floor, wrapping his arms around your body again.
Heeseung returned with his lips against your skin, brushing whenever he could on every little spot before alternating with the tip of his tongue a short path down to below your ear. His breath so close was enough to make you go a little crazy more.
“We can—”
“We can do whatever you want” he told you, kissing the spot below your ear and returning to position his face aligned with yours. Foreheads together and feeling her breath hit his lips “Tell me and I will do it.”
It was your turn to kiss Heeseung, your hands holding his face to keep him close while his tongue wrapped around yours again. The perfect fit of your mouths and how the two of you, despite your need, didn't let go and didn't make a mess of it. Yet.
Heeseung picked you up just to lay you down on his bed, snuggling his body between your legs without taking his mouth off yours. He pulled away momentarily to breathe before kissing you again with even more desire. At that point you felt like you needed him even more, your legs wrapping around Heeseung's hips who, you could tell, was holding back from making any risky moves. Even though you both wanted that. But it was impossible to hold back any longer because of the way the kiss started to get sloppy and lazy. You didn't know that you could get even more excited by the way Heeseung's tongue moved against yours or how the softness of his lips remained even after you abused them for so long.
Involuntarily your hips rocked, feeling Heeseung's erection rub against your clothed pussy, making you both moan in sync.
“Fuck” he moaned into your mouth, swallowing another moan of yours as he pressed his hips against you so you could feel a little more of his cock.
“Heeseung” your hands ran down his arms, your nails making a reddish path against his skin as you marked him.
“Are you going to moan loudly now?” he teased, lifting his head to look at you. It would be typical of Lee Heeseung to comment on that while he had a hard-on and was between your legs, you should have imagined that.
“I think you need to keep your mouth busy and stop talking shit” you rolled your eyes at him, holding yourself back so that your arousal wouldn't turn into anger and you would hit the boy.
“Your wish is my command, ma'am” Heeseung smiled so seductively that you asked yourself countless questions at that moment.
As he slid down your body, taking off each piece of your clothing without your protest, you wondered. Heeseung always smiled mischievously at you, although the effects were always the opposite of what was happening. Maybe the vulnerability in which you and he found each other at that moment made you with your senses heightened, paying a little more attention than necessary. Of course, you saw Heeseung up close, in his most intimate form, just as he saw you too. So that would be a good explanation for why you felt strange when he, at that moment, directed the smiles that you knew so well, at you.
Looking down at the exact second that Heeseung took off your panties, you noticed how lost in thought you were at that moment. Did he undress you so quickly or were you thinking too much about his smile to notice that now you were both naked? It didn’t matter, the job was done and now you fought against your racing heartbeat as Heeseung’s face lowered to be level with your pussy.
As if asking permission with a glance directed at your face, you nodded slowly as he adjusted himself between your legs and placed a kiss on your thigh. His lips tickled your skin before sliding down to your groin and finally finding your pussy.
“Heeseung— shit” you held back a moan between your lips as the tip of his tongue touched your clit. Swollen and in need of his full attention which he was more than willing to give.
Heeseung wrapped one hand around your thigh, bringing the other to your pussy to part your labia and spread all your wetness on his fingertips. It was a sight he didn’t think he would ever see, but one he couldn’t stop seeing now. He needed to be in that position at least once a day, if possible. Heeseung’s fingers made their way across your pussy lips until they reached your hole, circling it before pushing in. He looked up, his face fucking gorgeous as you fought the urge to open your eyes.
He wrapped his lips around your clit to suck on your bundle of nerves at the same time his finger was inserted into your hole. The two sensations flooded you as you let out the most beautiful moan. It wasn't scandalous at all, on the contrary, it was low and sensual. A reminder of how Heeseung was making you feel with just a few seconds of giving your pussy proper attention.
Moving his finger inside you, he included another and the two began working in and out of your hole. The wet sound of his fingers fucking you along with the moans you were letting out made his cock throb. Heeseung felt himself getting harder and harder, aching and wanting to be inside you as soon as possible.
“Hee” you moaned that nickname that had been heard only a few times, but that was enough to make him want to hear it again. This seemed to motivate you a little more, because Heeseung inserted the third finger into your pussy and, leaning down again, he went back to kissing your clit and any other place his mouth could reach.
It seemed like the way he kissed your mouth, kissing your pussy so perfectly that you were going crazy. Your hands found their way into his hair, tangling a few strands without having enough strength to pull them out. You focused as much as possible on how well Heeseung was fucking you and his fingers curling inside your warm walls. It was the second time you had sex, but it seemed like he knew every spot on your body and how you should be touched.
Heeseung felt your hole tighten against his fingers, licking your clit more slowly, although the intrusion of his fingers into your hole wasn't that slow. He smiled against your pussy, lifting his face from there and crawling until his face was flush with yours. His fingers didn't stop fucking you even though his mouth was far from your pussy.
“Are you going to cum?” he asked in a deep and hoarse whisper, making you open your eyes and almost actually cum at that moment. His chin was covered in saliva and your wetness, making Heeseung even hotter than he looked.
You nodded quickly to him, bringing one of your hands to Heeseung's chin and sliding your thumb over the spots on his skin to clean it. Any other time this would have been kind of cute, warming both of your hearts with the act. Although he appreciated your care even if he didn't mind having a little bit of you stuck to his chin.
“I want you to cum looking into my eyes” he whispered “Can you do that?”
You had no way of knowing if you were capable of it, especially when his fingers started fucking you again so slowly, but so intensely. He made sure to go all the way to his knuckles, rotating and scissoring inside you with precision. Wanting to feel your warm walls enveloping them as he penetrated you. A scream burst from your throat when his thumb touched your clit, where his lips had been minutes ago. You moved your hips to match the movements of his fingers and that made Heeseung almost go crazy.
Your hands went back to touching his hair, one of them going to the back of his neck to pull his face close to yours. Heeseung kissed you to share a little of your taste on his tongue, to show you how addictive you were not only to the kiss but to the taste of your pussy that he was already starting to get addicted to. This was starting to get too much for you, the way he moved his tongue around as he kissed you to muffle your moans and the way his fingers filled you up nicely. A few more small strokes and a particularly hard press on your clit and you came undone, cumming all over his fingers and squeezing them like Heeseung remembered your pussy being capable of.
He held you throughout your orgasm, his fingers still inside you until your walls stopped convulsing and tightening. Slowly sliding out with all of your cum running down your fingers and into the palm of your hand.
“That was…” your words slowly faded as you noticed him pull away a little, enough for him to be able to place his hand between your face and his. The glow of your essence covering every little part of Heeseung’s fingers made your face heat up. It wasn’t the first time you had cum with him, but seeing it so close made you feel shy… You came all that and only on his fingers?
With an air of pride for having been the cause of it, Heeseung smiled before bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking every little drop of you. Fucking hot. He licked it all up with determination, just like he had done on your pussy until there was nothing left for him to clean.
“That was what?” he turned his attention back to you, a small smile on his lips as he leaned in again and now Heeseung's hips were pressed against yours.
Your pussy was still sensitive as his throbbing cock made contact with your folds. He let out a hiss, low and whimpering at the warm sensation that hadn't yet enveloped him. You wanted to surprise him just like he did to you, so slowly your lips enveloped his. A slow kiss to calm your heart that was still racing from the post-orgasm, but preparing yourself for what was on your mind as you felt him melt into your lips.
It was the calmness of Heeseung kissing you and the way you took his lips at that moment. Feeling the attention you gave to each caress, when your hands slid over his body… He just didn't count on how fast it was when you grabbed his dick and slid the red and sensitive head into your entrance.
“Y/n… Fuck, holy shit” he moaned. Being taken by surprise by the sensation, but unable to contain himself when he felt your hot hole envelop him. Quickly his hips pushed forward as if he was trained to do it, as if Heeseung needed to do it without thinking, just being close to your pussy like something magnetic to his dick.
In a quick movement, his entire dick was inside you, and you both moaned at the same second. You because you felt filled by his dick, killing the longing that was to have him inside you. That would never be admitted out loud. While he felt the warmth and sponginess of your walls enveloping every inch of his dick. A hot embrace that he needed more than ever. Another thing that wouldn't be admitted out loud either.
Heeseung adjusted himself, one hand resting on the side of your head while the other found its way to your hip. Supporting himself and squeezing the flesh of your skin as he rested his forehead against yours, looking deep into your eyes before starting to move.
You remember that the first time you two had sex, Heeseung practically fucked you. The force with which his cock entered and left you, the way he ate you out and you sucked him. It was an almost angry but needy sex, where the two of you poured out teasing and moaning. But this time was different. He also remembered the way you and he gave yourselves to each other the first time. How his hips tortured yours as his cock went in and out, hearing you moan his name so much that Heeseung could think it was devotion to him.
But this time he moved masterfully. Slowly and carefully, but each time his dick entered, Heeseung went intensely to the bottom, putting just enough force to make his dick enter you completely and reach the limit that was being in your pussy, reaching your deepest point. His dick slid perfectly inside you, combining his pre-cum with your fluids and the cum from the previous orgasm, all combined with the way he moved.
To add even more intensity to the sex, Heeseung remained with his gaze fixed on your eyes. His hand on your hip tightened as he managed to reach the bottom of your pussy or when your walls squeezed him at a certain point. He was on cloud nine every time your hole swallowed him and he felt your walls being slid by every inch of him.
“Y/n” the whisper of his voice made you mumble softly, as if answering his call and telling him that you were listening. Not wanting to say too much or simply interrupt what he wanted to say to you “That’s amazing” he slowly kissed your lips, the hand on your hip sliding down to grip your thigh “You’re amazing.”
He didn’t even care if it had been said that way or how you would react. By the way your eyes were soft on him, your mouth half open letting moans escape, Heeseung could tell you felt the same way.
“You’re an idiot” you whispered “But you’re amazing too, Heeseung” he chuckled against your lips as he kissed you again.
The sharing of each movement of your tongues as they danced in sync with his hips that were still moving against yours. His cock throbbed inside your pussy indicating that he wouldn't last much longer than that, although your pussy was addictive and he could fuck you all night. But Heeseung wasn't that strong when it came to you – at least not in the last week that he discovered what sex with you was like – so cumming was more than a necessity for him at that moment.
He quickened the pace of his thrusts, the sound of his pelvis hitting against your thighs quickly in search of the apex to share a little more intimacy. Heeseung thrust his cock into you fast, but with a certain care that made your chest heat up. And that was a combination of the overwhelming sensations that the two of you were sharing. His cock went to the limit, touching your cervix as he started and going a little harder and faster to fuck you with a little more need.
Heeseung rested his forehead against yours again, a silent plea that he wanted to see you cum with him or simply see your expression when the two of you came together. And with a few more strokes you felt the burning in the pit of your stomach. Your hands ran to hold his face, afraid that the two of you would turn away and you wouldn't be able to look at him while you came undone on his cock.
“Hee” you called him before moaning close to his mouth, sharing accelerated breaths before your walls closed around his cock, cumming hard. More than the first time on his fingers.
That was too much for Heeseung to handle, he wouldn't be able to hold back the feeling of your walls convulsing around his cock. Your cum slid all over his length and hitting against his pelvis. Heeseung felt his balls ache as he continued to pound his cock into you until he finally came. The hot and long jets of cum inside your pussy, hitting your insides hard. He moaned your name tirelessly as he continued to move in search of prolonging both orgasms.
For a long moment, the two of you remained in that position, trying to normalize your breathing, which was still more than accelerated. Heeseung held you as if his life depended on it, and so did you. Little by little, after your pussy stopped squeezing him and his cock stopped twitching, he slowly raised his hips to pull out of you. Both of you moaning together were almost no longer connected as before, he threw himself next to you on the bed.
“Don’t move” Heeseung whispered, although he knew you didn’t have the strength to do it. With great difficulty, he got up and made the well-known path to the bathroom outside the room. Thankfully, no one had arrived from the party yet, having the apartment just for the two of you. When Heeseung returned to the room, he had a small smile on his lips as he lay down next to you again, bending over you.
“What…” he seemed to have the power to interrupt you on the strangest occasions, catching you by surprise with unexpected actions. He cleaned you carefully, leaving no trace of the two of you between your legs, just like he had done in the bathroom with himself a few seconds ago. Heeseung discarded the damp paper in the trash next to the computer table, lying down next to you again and wrapping his arm around your waist. Just like he had done the first night you and he slept together.
But this time it didn’t seem so strange to you. What was strange was that you liked the feeling of having him so close like this, facing him and resting your hands on Heeseung’s exposed chest.
“So you…”
“Don’t say anything to provoke me now or I’ll hit you” it was your turn to interrupt him, making Heeseung laugh as he pulled you closer and hid his face in the crook of your neck. You didn't know what happened to you after Heeseung touched you, because every little thing he did made your whole body shiver.
“I was just going to say…” he whispered, his lips close to your ear, but with a subtle tone that was rarely – if ever – used with you “If you still think you hate me.”
“I do” you answered quickly. Heeseung laughed against your ear, lifting his face so he could look at you.
“Then I hate you too” he said back, pressing his lips against yours, but not kissing them like he always did when he was close enough to you. “Can we hate each other like we did today, then?”
It was your turn to laugh, making Heeseung feel strange now. His heart skipped a beat at the brightness in your eyes and the way you frowned when you were smiling like that. Was he paying too much attention or were the two of you close enough that he couldn't notice anything other than you and what you were doing? He wasn't sure.
“I think we can hate each other like this” you replied, seeing the small hint of happiness in his eyes and in the smile he gave you.
Pressing his lips slowly to yours, you let him kiss you so subtly like you never thought would happen. Because after all, you and Heeseung hated each other.
And you would hate each other the same way you did in his bed.
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© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.
4K notes · View notes
erwinsvow · 4 months
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I LOVEEE WIFEY READER i wanna be rafes perfect little housewifey..
girl me!!! me asf!!!!!!!!! this is the most shy reader concept i think she is very content to be a housewife and have lots of kids running around and she kind of drifts off and fantasizes about it a lot..
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you often drift away into your own thoughts, something rafe has gotten used to by now. he doesn't need to snap you out of it—infact, he doesn't like to, since he thinks it's better to leave you in your thoughts than worrying about something once he brings you back to the real world.
so watching you now, perched on the chair by his window, your book abandoned on your lap and staring out the window, he doesn't know why he does it.
"kid. kid." you still don't hear him so he gets up, leaving his laptop and papers behind on the desk and getting closer to where you are. the sun coming in through the window feels warm, yet you look perfectly comfortable, perfectly content. rafe puts a hand on your knee and the other on the windowsill, boxing you in.
"what're you thinkin' about, huh?" rafe asks, and you look up at him right away. your breathing picks up when you see how close he is, feeling a little silly for not realizing this entire time.
you stay like that—staring up at him, the vision of the scene you were just daydreaming flooding back. your pretty boyfriend as your pretty husband, a house like tannyhill of your own, all the time with rafe that you could possibly imagine.
"n-nothing," you finally reply, remembering rafe had asked a question.
"nothin'? yeah?" you nod in agreement, not entirely sure what you're agreeing to. your head feels a little fuzzy still, but it doesn't take rafe long. he looks back out the window, in the direction you had been looking. there's a clear view of the neighbor's yard, little kids running around while mom and dad chase them.
rafe's not stupid, but when it comes to matters concerning you, he's something of a genius. two and two come together quickly, the flushed way you look up at him and whatever dream you were picturing coming into his own mind too.
"cute kids, huh?"
you nod again, heartbeat picking up though you're not sure why. yet. rafe leans in, his arms still surrounding you like a trap. everything feels more intense when he's like this.
"i bet ours would be cuter, right?" your lips part in surprise by themselves—staring back and blinking quickly. you nod. "like that, wouldn't you?"
rafe's hand finally leaves the window and joins his other one on your legs, stroking up and down. you turn to look down but can't help looking into his eyes again immediately after.
"i asked you a question."
"yes. yes, um, i-"
"knew you would. a whole bunch of kids and nothin' else to worry about, right?"
you look up, your own eyes melting while you stare at his, wondering when you had stopped telling rafe things, realizing he understood you even without words.
"except you. you and the kids." you don't even realize the words slipped out—still feeling like too much. your cheeks burn, thinking you just said something you shouldn't have.
"good girl. c'mon, on the bed. gotta start with one, right?"
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2K notes · View notes
superblysubpar · 7 months
Text
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Sincerely, Yours:
bestfriend!steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: a movie night, a confession, an offer, your Calvin's bunched up on the floor of your best friend's BMW...and other places | 18+ Only, NSFW | main menu
the song: Don't You (Forget About Me) by Simple Minds - all of steve's music
6.6k words
warnings: "inexperienced" reader - in the form of never really making out/receiving none/not great foreplay - masturbating for comfort/ease before sex, SMUT (public - in the back of Steve's car - "caught" by Hopper when you're done, oral, fingering, steve cums in his levi's cause I'm a sucker for doing this to him, what can I say?)
A/N: Once upon a time, I asked for requests, and I failed to fulfill many of them (you may have heard this story before), but this one sat in the drafts for many many months, and then I really chickened out posting it for a long time. Everyone say thanks to @palmtreesx3 - I owe her and the request for the prompt "we're not really just best friends, are we?"(which isn't even used in this, but you get the picture) and The Breakfast Club for this fic 💛
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He didn’t hear it at first, over the last remaining popping kernels. 
“What?” He called around a mouthful of the snack he was already dipping into before it was finished. 
In the other room, your attention was strictly on Judd Nelson, but you tried again, with no real power or meaning behind the words. 
“Want me to pause it?”
“No,” he shook his head and rolled his eyes to no one but himself in the kitchen, “Don’t think you need to pause the movie I’ve seen three times…this week.”
“I’d love one, thanks!”
Steve snorted at your response that made no sense, it becoming apparent you weren’t listening to him at all.  He should have known this was his fate after the way you acted when it was showing at The Hawk. You saw it with him, then Robin, then Nancy, and Steve put his foot down when you tried to drag him down there for a fourth time.
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Now here he was, dumping the popcorn into a large bowl and watching it again. He didn’t even know what number of views he was on with you, which had him worried about your sanity, ‘cause you had to be watching it without him too. 
Steve snagged two cans of Coke out of the fridge, assuming that’s what you’d love one of, and kicked the door closed with his heel. 
He cradled the popcorn bowl against his side and held each of the cans with one hand and spread fingers, socked feet slipping on the hardwoods when he rounded the corner and saw you again. 
Despite becoming incredibly bored by the movie, he did love watching you watch it, because somehow, it’s as if you’re watching it for the first time every time. 
Your white tube socks were stark against the dark wood of the coffee table, bunching around your ankles that led him to the exposed skin of your calves. Which led to the way your blue skirt fanned over your thighs all nice, then the Queen shirt he got you for your birthday tucked into it, your thumb between your teeth with your eyebrows bunched together. 
His best friend was really fucking pretty. 
He almost said it out loud, which had him flopping onto the couch a little quickly, a little too heavy with his fall. Careless in his aim of the cushion and causing popcorn to spill from the bowl into your lap as his shoulder jostled yours. 
Before he could even say sorry, you were grabbing the popcorn from your lap like it was the bowl, blissfully unaware it wasn’t, all the while making heart eyes at dreamy Bender.
“Thanks,” your appreciation came out heavy around the buttery and salty handful of the snack, the Coke you’d love sitting on the coffee table, already forgotten.
Steve hummed, his amused lips twitched in a losing fight against a smile at your captivated stare fixated on the screen. He suppressed an eye roll at the scene about to happen, as he swiped condensation off the cool metal of the can with his thumb. 
He popped the drink open with a loud hiss, slurping his first sip - a habit you’d normally swat at his chest for - but you were too busy focusing on the words about to leave Judd’s mouth. 
“Have you ever kissed a boy on the mouth?”
They sort of just tumbled out of Steve too, while his eyes glanced over the popcorn bowl, searching for a perfectly buttery piece. Which is why he didn’t see that he, your best friend, quoting the scene that has dialogue that got you all hot and bothered more than others, had your entire body freezing. 
Steve tossed the acquired piece into the air, catching it in his mouth before he turned to face your profile. He found you with widened eyes, chest rising and falling a little too quickly, and he grinned. 
“Have you ever been felt up…over the bra…under the blouse…your shoes off, hoping to god your parents don’t walk in?”
He’s simply delighted when he quotes the scene again and your body shifts, toes curling as you arched your neck away from. You kept your eyes on the screen, not giving him the satisfaction of eye contact because of what he was slowly, finally, realizing.
You were totally turned on and he couldn’t wait to tease you about it forever.
Steve leaned in closer, whispering along with the movie, “Over the panties…no bra…blouse unbuttoned…Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat past eleven on a school night?”
He’s gearing up, about to tease you, make some dumb boy comment about being hot for the school freak, when your quiet, barely a breath response had him pausing. 
“No.”
Did you just say that out loud?!
Your head turned to find Steve blinking at you, creases in his forehead deepening beneath the stray locks of hair that fell forward. 
Looks like you did.
“Ste-”
“What? What do you mean no?”
Your eyes closed when you both spoke at the same time, avoiding his curious stare. Hands roamed to your cheeks to hide your face as your head fell towards your knees. 
As you shook your head no, your response gets muffled into your skirt. “I meant no.”
Steve’s hand nudged at your shoulder, prodding for clarity and for you to sit up. He failed to sound casual when his question came out incredulously.
“No, you’ve never kissed a guy?”
Your hands still covered your face as you fell back against the couch with a groan, “No, I..I have. I just…”
Steve pulled at your hands, his heart racing like it was overtime. All these years, he thought you’d been with all these other guys, his quiet jealousy seething under the surface of his tinged green from envy skin. 
A breath, well, more of a huff really, slipped past your lips as your gaze dropped to the hands holding yours in your lap. “I’ve never really made out with anyone? Just like…a quick kiss or two. I don’t even know, can you even count it as kissing? Over before it starts kind of thing…”
The ramble trailed off, the room silent save for the movie still playing and the giant, loud, big, fat, zero response from Steve. You counted the threads in the carpet, the pieces of popcorn in the bowl as your skin grew hotter and hotter from the reveal he’s left just hanging there until he  finally sputtered out a sorry excuse for one.
“Are you shitting me? We’re like…old.”
It doesn’t come out how he meant it to at all, he’s just shocked. He’s wincing almost immediately as the words reach his ears and brain, he knows how it sounded. He wishes he could take it back when your head whips up, hurt eyes meeting his as you ripped your hands away from him. 
“Yeah, Steve,” you scoffed, jaw pulsing as your voice dripped with sarcasm that tried to cover  the embarrassment, “I’m shitting you. Thought it’d be real funny to trick you into thinking your best friend is a loser who’s barely been kissed even though she’s so old.”
Pieces of popcorn fell from your lap as you stood, not letting yourself wonder where they came from as you stomped around the coffee table and towards his entryway. 
“No, honey, wait-” he stumbled after you, spilling Coke down the front of his shirt as he did, “Shit.”
He patted at his chest like it’d do anything, shirt damp and sticking to his skin as he rounded the corner and found you lacing up your converse and shaking your head. 
“It’s fine, Steve. I’m fine. I just don’t feel like talking about it. I’m gonna go home. Don’t worry about it. Girl stuff.”
“No, please, I didn’t mean-”
His words stopped just as abruptly as your body, when the front door swung open to reveal an out of nowhere downpour. 
Your head fell as you started to ask, and he was already one step ahead of you.
“Can you please-”
“I’ll grab my keys.”
He was tripping up his stairs by the time he finished saying it. When he returned, it was in a clean shirt, jumping from the second to last step as he swirled the keys around his pointer finger. 
The light blue fabric of his new shirt pulled at his shoulders that hunched when your glare remained unwavering despite the apologetic puppy dog eyes he had going for him. 
You understood Steve didn’t mean for the comment to start the hole he was digging, and you knew you weren’t being fair for being so upset. It’s not like it was his fault, it was just your own insecurities manifesting in an anger towards him. 
The nagging feeling of being some sort of freak who’d never made out while even the little twerps who clung to Steve were, while your best friend was Steve Harrington, former king of Hawkins High only grew stronger. The thought of Steve thinking you were some sort of weirdo for being old and never making out had something in your gut churning, had a familiar sting behind your eyes forming that you tried your best to ignore. 
When Steve opened his mouth, about to try to make it all better again, you simply turned on your heel and stalked out into the rain. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at the way you stomped through it, pretending to not be drowned. 
He quickly rushed behind you and got to the door first and swung it open, to which you rolled your eyes at, but slid in and got comfortable while he closed it for you nonetheless. 
Unsure why he went and changed as he raced around the hood and shot into the driver’s seat, totally soaked through to his skin now. He cranked the heat before swiping fingers over his eyes, a large hand ran through his hair and pushed it back only for it to fall into his eyes again. Steve reached over with wet and shaking fingers at the same time you held yours up, both of you pausing and glancing at the other’s hands. 
Steve was about to cup your fingers between his and blow warm breath onto them, just like he always did, but you ripped your hands down to your lap, and curled your body against the door, like you needed to be as far from him as you could be. 
Your damp forehead touched the cool glass of the window as he sighed, “Please don’t-”
“Just take me home, please?”
The tone in which the words were said has something in his chest breaking. Like you were really fucking sad, embarassed, it was a real plea to just take you home and leave you alone. 
So he wasn’t gonna do that, ‘cause he never was a great listener, so why start now?
He pretends though, he backs out of the driveway and heads in the direction of your apartment. He lets the radio fill the space and he turns the heat down when the air inside the car is heavier and warm despite your cold shoulder. The orange glow of the street lights slanted inside the car in a soothing rhythm as his wheels spun over the pavement until he was coming to the last four way stop before your apartment. 
It unfolds just as he had planned, when he’s still stopped at the deserted intersection, as your breath fogged up the glass when you asked, “Harrington, you planning on leaving the intersection anytime soon?”
His bottom lip wobbled as his teeth continued to press into it, thick fingers rubbing at a scruff dotted jaw as he thought out loud in an attempt to sway you. 
“Well, you see, I could go straight and take you home-” he started. 
“Right. Let’s do that.” You waved your hand towards the direction of the apartment that held the ice cream you were desperate to eat and wallow with while watching Pretty In Pink. 
“Or,” Steve interrupted right back, tapping on the steering wheel with his finger as he did, “I could go to the right. Pull into the diner. Buy you a milkshake and say sorry?”
The thing was, he was gonna go to the right regardless of your answer. He knew once you pulled into the parking lot there was no way you’d not at least go in and get fries and a shake, if not a whole burger. You’d done this dance before, him putting his foot in his mouth was not a new occurrence. 
Your lips twitched, but your arms stayed crossed as he hummed and whispered, “Tough choice…tough choice…”
Shoulders fell in defeat, but your mouth stayed downturned in a forced frown as you grumbled, “And fries.”
Steve smiled, turned on his blinker and nodded. He cleared his throat.
“And fries. Definitely.”
“And none of that you order yourself a vanilla shake and I order strawberry and you drink half of mine because it’s better and eat all the fries shit.”
“Of course,” Steve scoffed, “I would never do that.”
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Steve slipped his straw into your shake, pulling the glass across the sticky tabletop as you did the same with his. He tried not to smirk around the straw when you did, dipping a fry in his vanilla he ordered for a reason despite the strawberry being better. 
“Do you think Claire is a prude for never doing anything?”
He shook his head no almost immediately, swiping at stray ice cream from the corner of his mouth with his tongue. 
You fiddled with the straw wrapped between your fingers and narrowed your eyes at him. 
“Would your answer be the same if, say, Eddie was sitting here asking you? Not me, your best friend, who you have sudden pity for?”
He blinked at you and sighed, “I don’t have pity for you.”
“Your mouth and your eyes are telling two different stories Harrington,” you waved a fry at him as you spoke, gesturing to his face with it. 
Your gaze stayed on the fry you were ripping in half, focused on watching it sink into the sweet vanilla as he dared to say, “I just don’t get it.”
“What, that I haven’t done that and I’m so old,” you tried to tease, to move past it. 
But the way you were licking salt off your finger had him wondering if he swiped his own through the salt on the tray and pushed the pad against your lips if they would part like they were now, if he could taste it on your lips if he just leaned forward and-
“No, ‘cause you’re so fucking pretty.” 
He definitely said it out loud that time. 
You blinked at him, cheeks suddenly too warm for the cold and damp Spring that had been surrounding you all day.  
“Ste-”
“And so smart,” he licked his lips, leaning forward, unable to stop now that it was out, “And funny. And…and sweet, you’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I know, I just don’t understand how guys aren’t falling over themselves, unable to do anything but make out with you, or more or-”
“I never said I didn’t do more,” you whispered, ignoring all of his compliments that made your chest feel all tight and sticky and choosing to argue with him instead because that was easier. 
“But you said…if you haven’t made out with anyone…” 
Your body slipped lower against the squeaky seat, embarrassed as you shrugged and Steve felt too hot in the tiny little booth, thinking about all those guys’ hands on you again, and then what you said, what it meant, really clicked. 
“Hold on…how…how’d…you didn’t, build up to it?” He asked softly, eyes bouncing over your face with worry. 
“Steve,” you grabbed for the other shake, and sat up straighter, “We don’t need to talk about this. It’s not import-”
“It’s so important,” he grabbed your hand and squeezed your fingers lightly, “Half the fun is all the build up to it. And,” he swallowed, forehead creasing with deeper worry, “And then it, it doesn’t hurt. ‘Cause tell me if I’m wrong, but if they weren’t making out with you, were they doing anything to make sure you felt good?”
You squirmed in your seat, fingers pushing up against his mindlessly, aimlessly, as you shrugged again. “It’s only hurt a few times. I learned that if I…um, If I got myself ready beforehand, that I was, uh, more comfortable.”
Steve’s fingers let go of yours with the excuse of grabbing a fry, because he was trying not to be a gross guy, but all he could think about was you in your bedroom, with your fingers between your thighs now. Did you play music? What song? Did you have underwear on? What color? With a shirt that your nipples were visibly hard through as you touched yourself and maybe it was his shirt or maybe you said his name or-
“Right,” Steve nodded, “Um, right. And that’s great, lots of people do that for a date, so like if you need or want to beforehand that’s not…that’s great. It just shouldn’t be the only thing, you know? They should be putting in the work, they should be wanting to. And dates! They should watch a movie with you, and dinner and drive around and then kiss so much you feel dizzy and then if you want, more.”
He finished his rambling speech and you smiled softly, unsure of what to say, because you knew he wasn’t wrong, it’s just that they had. 
“They did,” you sighed, “Well, not Paul.”
Steve scowled at the table, “Yeah, well, I’m sure you weren’t missing much. Who wants to yell out Paul?”
“Oh,” you laughed, “And Steve is so much better?”
He looked up at you, your smile sweet and kind and your eyes a little sad, but trying not to be and he wanted to say yes. He wanted to tell you that if it was those lips and that voice saying it, it was better, because how could it not be? Like his name only had the best letters, like it belonged to the best guy in the world, one that belonged to you and no one else. 
But you were swiping at ice cream on your lips and sighing, saying something that made his chest ache instead. 
“They were nice dates. And it’s not like the sex was bad. But,” you looked out the window, eyes tracking the droplets of rain twinged neon from the light hanging above you both, “The kissing till I’m dizzy sounds nice. Is it…is it fun?”
“Yeah,” Steve whispered, admiring the way the red and blue lit up your profile before you turned to face him. 
And then he was saying something before he really thought it through, because god you weren’t just fucking pretty, you were the most beautiful person he’d ever met and no way in hell was he letting anyone treat you the way you’d been ever again. So this was his chance, and he was taking the leap.
“I could…” he blew out a breath and smiled. He sat up straighter, and he searched for some sort of lingering king steve confidence he could latch onto without all the douche as he asked, “I could show you?”
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To both of your surprise, you’d said yes, and he paid and you were in the car, driving, and parked somewhere in what felt like seconds. Now your best friend sat across from you, both of you facing the center console, but not daring to do more. 
The rain beat against the roof of the maroon car, each drop a punctuated tick of a nonexistent clock - a meter for how much time was passing without movement, without words. Just both of your breathing filled the space. First exhaling, then desperately inhaling for more air as your chests rose and fell ragged. And then, like in some unspoken agreement only best friends can have, you both started to lean forward cause you just knew. 
Your heart’s thrum threatened to drown out the rain, building and building, screaming to break out of your chest, pounding in your ears while your cheeks grew warm and your stomach dipped as Steve’s tongue slipped out quickly and wetted his lips. 
But then he leaned and his eyes started to close and you giggled, fingers slipping over your lips as his eyelids shot open. 
“Sorry,” you gasped and shook your head and your hands out as you tried to be serious, “Your ‘I’m about to kiss you’ face is real cute, Harrington.”
Tried being the definitive word. 
“Cute?” He groaned, smiling, “Not sexy?”
You leaned in, faster this time, a smile matching his as you shrugged, “It’s nice. Never thought I’d be on the opposite side of it, is all.”
It’s easy to tilt your head and welcome the hand that reached up to cradle your jaw as he softly promised, “Your ‘I’m about to be kissed face’ is really cute too.”
The pad of his thumb brushed over the apple of your cheek in the tenderest touch you’d ever felt, before his fingers curled under your jaw and tilted you gently, slowly, up so his lips were right over yours. 
It felt like he was handling you like the most precious and fragile thing, like a prized possession that he’d only ever hold with care and never let another soul touch. 
His breath fanned over yours, warm and sweet smelling, vanilla and cherry just out of reach for you to taste as you dared to quip back again. “Alright, I’m gonna have to cross reference these lines with other girls you’ve promised to make dizzy, Harrington, cause if that’s the first time you’ve used that, I’m afraid it’s far too smooth…”
Steve’s heart felt like it was trying to claw out of his chest as you laughed, smiling at him when he responded, “And, I think that’s enough out of you.”
Which you couldn’t help but reply back to with, “Yeah? Have some fancy trick to get me to stop talking?”
He laughed, low, muffled and deep in his chest. “A few.”
A sharp inhale slipped past your lips when his nose bumps yours, not realizing how close he’d gotten while you joked back and forth nervously. There wasn’t a protocol on how to let your best show you a proper make out, on how to just dive in and start, you just knew you wanted to. 
Steve’s swallow bobbed his adams apple as the leather beneath you creaked from shifting weight, needing to get closer. And as you did, his eyes found yours, mossy and dark in the low light, the browns and golds washed away in the rain. Their gaze flitted down to your lips, back up to fluttering eyelashes, and then his own eyelids were closing. 
All it took was another breath in, an exhale out, and his lips were on yours. A simple, slow press, holding your top lip between the both of his. Strawberry and vanilla teasing you, and soon he was moving, now bottom lip between his and you got it. Your mouths parted together, lips slotting in a rhythm that came naturally, that clicked. 
Something in your stomach fizzled and crackled like the sparklers you lit every year in his driveway on the fourth as the sigh from his nose hit your cheek. Body warm and sticky in a way that was usually reserved for Summer when his fingers skated over your jaw, up and around your ear, until they were cradling the back of your neck and pulling you closer. His mouth moved with yours in a way that could only be described as frantically graceful - needing more, hurried, hungry, but with the promise and precision of someone who knew what he was doing. It had your stomach dipping, like a freefall, like the greatest and scariest thing you’d ever felt. 
If he’d have opened his eyes, he’d have found you with your hands suspended between your bodies though. Fingers not quite brave enough to reach up and get lost in his hair, but not content to just sit in your lap and do nothing either. 
And if you'd opened your eyes, you’d have found his other hand gripping the center console like he was hanging on for dear life. ‘Cause holy shit was he trying to go slow, but kissing you was like chasing the last few minutes of sunlight in July - sweet and fleeting and magic - something you needed to make last, to soak up every last drop of until you couldn’t any more, not by choice, but because the sun has to set and he has to breathe.
In a shared gasp for air, you parted, but his lips were back on yours immediately, making your stomach swoop even more, like an entire family of butterflies had decided - hey, we live here now and we’re gonna make a ruckus so get used to it.
You didn’t mind. 
Steve’s fingers found yours and without breaking his rhythm, he tugged, guiding them to his shoulders that were practically on your side of the console now, which wasn’t doing something great to his already somersaulting stomach. 
He slowed down as your fingers brushed over and back on the collar of his shirt and his hands cradled both of your cheeks, pulling you off of his lips regretfully. You were both breathing like you’d run a marathon, his forehead pressed to yours as he gasped out, “Dizzy yet?”
“No,” you lied. 
He grinned, tip of his nose tracing the bridge of yours as he admitted, “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you like that.”
You couldn’t even respond, couldn’t tell him you wanted that too, couldn’t tell him that it was something you only dared let a daydream or two convince you it could happen before you were shutting it down, cause he was still talking. 
“And now that I have,” he swallowed, his thumbs glided down opposite sides of your neck as he shook his head, “I’m never stopping.”
Then he was kissing you again, and if you thought he was frantic before…
You had this feeling that even if those other guys had made out with you, kissing them wasn’t and never would be the same as kissing Steve Harrington. 
Soon one of your feet was on the seat, the other bracing yourself in the footwell. He had a hand on your hip and the other on the back of your neck and yours were finally starting to dare to journey past their spot on his shoulders and then your skirt was caught on the gearshift and he was stopping you again. 
“Honey, what are you doing?”
“So was that ‘never stopping’ just a nice sentiment or are you planning to back it up with action?” You huffed, distracted by pink lips that twisted into a crooked smile as he looked at your pretzeled body. 
Your shoulders fell as you nodded your head towards his side of the car and admitted, “I just want to be closer.”
“Oh, right.” Steve swallowed, and you wondered if it’d be weird if you kissed every freckle and mole you could find on his throat. Something told you he wouldn’t mind when he asked, a little more eager than you’d heard tonight, “Backseat?” 
And you clambered out of the car, the slowing rain soothing to heated and flushed skin under the mussed clothes, and then you were both meeting in the backseat, but the nerves returned. The way you both glanced at the space between you and were immediately and acutely aware of the lack of anything between you except doubt and fear. Was this a mistake? What about your friendship?
Steve looked at the space, at you, and then held up his finger in the symbol for one sec as he said, “Hold on,” and half climbed back into the front seat. His torso draped over the console as he loudly opened the glovebox and rummaged around inside, before he was fiddling with the radio, and falling back into the seat. 
His cheeks pink, but his smile wide as he looked at you again. “Hey! I’m so glad we could do this tonight. You look beautiful. Ready to watch your favorite movie?”
“Wh-what?” You laughed, totally and utterly confused. 
He tugged on your fingers, and pulled you to the middle, until you were slouched next to each other, shoulders touching as he shushed and said, “The Breakfast Club is starting.”
And the music playing over the radio,Simple Minds, a cassette he must have put in, had your chest swelling with something that was sure to burst and explode and kill you, because the boy was actually pretending you were on a couch, on a date, in a living room, watching a movie - it was perfectly Steve and you, and the best first date you’d ever been on. 
His left hand picked up yours, resting it on your thigh and played with your fingers. The pads of his traced up and down and over your hand as he stared at the windshield, his temple resting against yours. The music played, and his fingertips swooped between the curves of each finger aimlessly, the sides of his fingers running down yours and back up making it really hard to concentrate on the non-existent flick. 
When you finally relaxed into his side, when you flipped your hand over so he could draw little loop de loops on your palm, he quietly asked, “Who’s your favorite?”
“Brian,” said without hesitation. 
Steve groaned, in pain, “Ugh, you would like him the best.”
You laughed, turning to look up at him a bit from where your head had fallen to his shoulder, “Don’t knock him Steve,” you spoke softly, fondly, “You’re a lot more of a dork like him than you think.”
Steve made a pft noise, fingers now interlaced with yours as he turned his head, the tip of his nose touching yours as he looked down at you with the sort of look the guys give the girls in the movies, one that should be illegal from the way it had that family of butterflies shouting about their presence again and fluttering around. 
“Hey Steve?” 
“Hmm?” He hummed, eyelashes fluttering as he sighed when your thumb brushed over his knuckles.
“This is a really great…first date?” You asked, hopeful that it wasn’t just an offer, that you weren’t some game, that the guy next to you was just as crazy about you as you were him. 
“Yeah?” He smiled, proud, and then bragged, “Wait till the second one.”
It was your turn to hum, to look into his eyes and get a little lost as his mouth parted and you both scooted closer, waiting, as he squeezed your fingers wrapped around his. 
“You’re making the ‘I’m about to kiss you face’ again, Steve,” you whispered, lips brushing his as you did.
“Right,” he whispered back, bottom lip catching yours as he suggested, “Which means you should probably stop talking again.”
This kiss wasn’t as easy and smooth, made difficult by grins of fools who were totally in love but wouldn’t admit it just yet, but how could you both not be after years together?
But you smoothed it out quickly, and soon he was swiping his tongue over your bottom lip as his hand gripped at your waist a little tightly. He traced over your top lip as your entire body turned towards his, like a plant in search of sunlight, his body on yours fundamental to your survival.
He gasped as you straddled him, your mouth swallowing the sound as his hands roamed up your sides, taking the hem of your shirt with it so his fingers could scrape at the skin just under your ribs before they dared to drift along the band of your bra.  
You let out a sound that he’d never forget as long as he lived when you finally lowered yourself, skirt fanning over your laps so the sinful way he pressed up against your pristine soaked Calvin’s was slightly hidden. The unclip of your bra and the removal and toss over the seat was fluid, and you couldn’t think about it because the way his hand on your chest felt, the thumb over a pebbled nipple was something you’d only let yourself think about in moments of need before a date that wasn’t him. 
Steve was wrong, the build up was more than half the fun.
The way his hands buzzed against your spine like the air after fireworks, the way his tongue brushed yours, the way he couldn’t help but guide your hips to rock against him. Denim hitting cotton in the exact right spot so the nerves underneath it got the friction they were aching for, while your mind ran away from you, thoughts about how this was just getting started. How there was more. 
His lips left yours and his smile pressed to your jaw when the action got a soft whimper to fall from you. He tutted into your neck, lips grazing over an erratic pulse as he whispered, “Can I touch you?”
“Is that,” your breath hitched around the words as his tongue licked a thick stripe over your neck that extended, “Is that a part of making me dizzy or the more, when I’m sufficiently so?”
“You’re not yet?” His teeth scraped at where his tongue had just been. “I like when you say words like sufficiently, ‘s’hot.”
You laughed as his lips kissed the same spot, and then he was sucking, skin beneath his tongue warm and sending a message to your brain that you liked that a lot. 
“Yeah,” you hiccuped, eyelids fluttering in their view of the car’s roof as you arched and his hands gripped your hips, “Yeah, touch me.”
He didn’t have to be told twice, arm around your waist holding you steady while the other traveled under the hem of your skirt. His mouth moved to below your ear and as his fingers glided up your thigh. He sucked and kissed, and sent that message to your brain again, having you say his name and god’s in the same desperate sentence. 
Steve wasn’t gonna last much longer. 
Especially when his fingers met the wet cotton and you moaned, so much filthier than he’d have thought possible. Especially when he circled over your clit through the fabric and you rolled your hips with the movement, far dirtier than he thought you were capable of. 
“Fuck baby, you’re soaked.” He mouthed at the collar of your rucked up shirt, looking down at the way your hips rolled over his but he couldn’t quite see what was underneath. 
You hid in the crook of his neck, hot, and you didn’t know if it was because the windows were fogged and Steve was so fucking good at this or because you were embarassed by how turned on you were from his next words. 
“Please, I gotta,” he slipped a finger under the fabric and you shuddered as it ran down your slick and back up, “I gotta taste you. I need to put my mouth on you. Let me make you feel good, yeah?”
You were on your back, Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat, with Steve crouched between your thighs not even a minute later. 
Thick fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt from his spot, blown out pupils taking over his stare up at you. One of your converse pushed to the other side of the car against the door as your fingers curled around the base of the sweating window above you. 
Steve kissed your knee, and made his way higher between your legs slowly, until he was flipping your skirt up and swallowing as he stared at the space like it was a fucking artwork. 
You giggled, nervously under the intense awestruck stare, squeezing your eyes shut as he strained to get out, “Fuck, honey, you’re trying to kill me.”
He was mesmerized, the way you clenched around nothing, his thumbs spreading you so he could see just how wet you were for him. 
He was really not gonna last much longer. Straining in his jeans painfully like a teenager. 
And that was before you whimpered, before you said:
“Steve, please.”
“Only,” he swallowed, leaning down so his breath hit your cunt in a way that had your hips wiggling, and him closing his eyes, “Only cause you asked so nicely.”
His thumbs held you open, massaging the sides as his tongue licked once, slow and broad, following the path of his nose up to your clit. He did it again, and again, and again. Until his fingers were slipping inside of you, pumping in and out of walls that held him tightly and his mouth sucked at your clit. Then you tugged, forcefully at the curls at the back of his head and practically screamed his name. Like it was full of only the best letters. Like it was yours. 
Your stomach burned, the butterflies angry and in your chest now too, on fire, but happy about it. Steve’s fingers inside of you and mouth on your clit better than any orgasm you’d ever had, and you couldn’t help it when you came without warning, toes curling inside of your converse that kicked at the door and his thigh, while your fingers slipped on the window and your chest ached for a breath as it yelled his name in a way that the whole world would have to know how you felt when they heard it. 
He didn’t pull away until you were gasping and your thighs were shaking and your fingers loosened in his hair. His cheek pressed to your thigh as he stared up at you and gasped out a proud, smug, “I’d like to see Bender of Brian do that.”
You laughed, tired, but happy, and he crawled up your body, kissing any part of it he could find while he ignored the uncomfortable wet patch in the front of his Levi’s. 
Except you noticed and raised your eyebrows at it, a little smug yourself as you said, “Bet Claire couldn’t do that.”
Steve rolled his eyes, but then you were both flinching as a loud smack of something hit the back window. He glanced up and cursed under his breath, rolling down the window slightly as he called out from on top of you, “Hey, Hop.”
There was a loud, deep, sigh from outside as you both sat up with apologetic faces and Steve rolled down the window further. 
Hopper’s cigarette smoke wafted in as he looked at the pair of you with a touch of surprise when he saw it was you next to Steve in the fogged up beemer. He shook his head, frown under the mustache forced.  “It’s past eleven. On a weeknight. Have some decency and do this at home in front of a movie like normal people next time, yeah?”
You both nodded, your teeth pulling at your lip in a terrible attempt at not smiling. 
He walked away, and you and Steve slapped hands over each other’s laughs and snorts, but you still managed to catch the quiet, “Bout damn time.” 
And when Steve dropped you off at home, with a kiss to seal it all and a promise of a real date tomorrow that he’d pick you up for, you shoved the bunched up Calvin’s in his front pocket with your own promise, whispering in his ear the words “Sincerely, yours” before you left him with his mouth open on the front steps, watching you walk away. 
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chiscaralight · 1 month
Text
me and my roomie!
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your roommate is obsessed with you! but you're hiding your own dirty little secret.
includes: nsfw! scara, tartaglia and bonus character separately, weird roommate behavior, use of their real names, weird reader behavior, tartaglia's is pretty long, fingering, begging, somno(?), pillow humping, missed tags. the bonus isn't as long as the other ones!
a/n: this was so much fun to write ! suzu helped me decide who to write for so the bonus at the end is dedicated to @hitomisuzuya !!
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scaramouche!
"hey, i can't find one of my shirts can I go check your room for it?"
you give him a thumbs up as he makes his way to your door. now, he wasn't entirely lying, he was actually missing a couple of shirts! but, he knows you do all your laundry over the weekend, so your basket should be overflowing with dirty clothes by now. he does a quick check of the hall once more before shutting the door to your room. he's beelining straight for your pile of laundry. he starts rummaging through the trash like a raccoon but finally finds what he's searching for.
the cute panties you wear! the pair he'd stolen a week prior had lost your scent a while ago and it was starting to drive him crazy. he raises the newly acquired pair to his nose and he's twitching in his pants. but this isn't the place for that! it would be kinda hard to explain what was going on if you saw him bent over your laundry with a raging hard-on. so he quickly throws the old pair in and covers it up with the rest of your clothes. he shoves the new pair deep in his pocket before walking back to the living room, loosely announcing he didn't find it and heading for the kitchen.
the house is quiet when scara comes back. too quiet. his last class had been canceled, but you were free the entire day. so where were you? the house is usually filled with sounds of you doing something to keep yourself occupied.
it's the sounds that catch him first. they're..moans? they sound hushed, but they're definitely coming from his room. he peers through the crack in the door and the sight is truly one to behold.
there you are, small fingers tugging at your nipples as you roll your hips against the pillow, his pillow. that shirt he went to "search for" in your room? bunched up between your pretty lips as you try to stifle your whines. he's drinking up the scene, trying to etch this beautiful moment into his mind as hard as possible before clearing his throat.
his arms are folded and he's leaning against the doorpost. the corner of his lips twitch up as your eyes meet his. you're like a deer caught in headlights and his smile only gets bigger as you open your mouth to speak and nothing comes out.
"well, i see where my shirt went."
"open," he commands as his hand grips your jaw. the heavy drop of saliva hits your lolled-out tongue before you swallow. he hums as he's sliding his leaking cock back into your warmth. eye rolling back into your head, you're gripping onto the sheets tightly as he starts ramming into you.
"you slut, fuck, riding my pillow like that, hm?"
the only response he gets is the soft cry of his name. every whine, every cry, and every moan just fuels him further as his hips connect with yours. his hands are pressing your knees to your chest so he can have the best view of your cunt.
"the minute my head hit the pillow, i would've known. you know why?"
you weakly motion toward his bedside table. specifically the drawer where he keeps his... mementos of you. it should've set him off how quickly you knew what he was talking about, but all you could feel was the way he twitched against your most sensitive spots. you're even going through his stuff now? it's just so fun to think about. how you'd peek over your shoulder at the door to make sure he wasn't coming; how your eyes widened when you spotted the contents of the drawer. did you run away right then? or did you press your thighs together because you finally know what he really is.
but you've done such a good job so far of keeping it quiet! so good. that he's going to breed you as a reward for how nasty you are! you're drooling so much at the thought! your hands are dragging one of his towards your throat as you beg him to fill you up.
"kuni, please-, wanna feel you so bad. wanna feel all of you!"
and it's those words that send him over the edge, spilling deep into you as he groans deep into your skin. that action sends you over, as you cum around his still sheathed cock. both of you are panting and burnt out, but he still finds the energy to trap you in a heavy kiss. you whine into his lips in pure contentment.
tartaglia!
ajax is the best roommate! he's funny, caring, and knows how to take care of the house really well. hell, he's paying for all the groceries and at some point he even started paying your portion of the rent!
to top it all off, hes so so sweet! he's planning movie nights, finding games for you two to play and helping you out in the kitchen as you make dinner. his big arms wrap around you as you doze off against his body while you favorite sitcom is playing in the background.
it's too bad it's all just a front though, because in all reality he's waiting for the perfect time to pin you down and fuck you so hard like he's been dreaming of all these months! he can't count how many times he's pressed his ear to the thin wall that divides your room as he pumps his cock to the sound of your voice as you talk to your friend over the phone. the actual conversation is none of his concern; just the way you speak, the way your voice drips out is tugging his orgasm out of him at full speed.
or the way you tempt him without even knowing it. those shorts you wear around the house that just barely cover the curve of your ass? he has to physically restrain himself from pressing you onto his crotch. with your nipples poking through the lightly colored tank top on your body. he's practically gawking at you shamelessly until you turn your attention back to him and he's giving you that almost genuine smile one more time.
he's scrolling through all the pictures he'd taken of you sleeping when the knock at the door whips him out of his trance. the sound had scared him so hard he squeezed his eyes shut! of course it was you. who else would be at his door at this hour? he refuses to answer as you call out his name through the wood. the door slowly opens anyways. he's asleep, you think to yourself as you pad across the floor towards the bed.
it's not new for you to crawl between his sheets like this. on the nights when you're feeling not the best, he always opens his arms (and blankets) to you! so it should be no different now that he's 'asleep'. he can feel your back press against his chest as you try your best not to wake him. he pretends to groan and does his own shifting around until his nose is nestled in your neck and one of his hands is around your waist while the other is laid on your hip.
everything is still for a bit. he savors the warmth emitting from your body and the scent of the shampoo you use overcomes his senses. until you start shifting around. you're probably just trying to get comfortable, but it's been going on for minutes and he's starting to get a little riled up. it seems almost calculated as you push back against him. he's not sure what to make of the sigh that leaves you.
your hand lightly clasps his and you guide it downwards. this can't be real. his body is so stiff right now, but he doesn't want to move in case you stop! with just a little bit of struggling, you managed to get his hand into your underwear. your hand finds the top of his as you move his fingers slightly further down. you're soaking wet, using the pads of his fingers to brush against your clit a few times.
your fingers are moving down softly once again as you push them into your hole. your breath hitches and you feel so good, so soft around his fingers. you're moving them in and out now, teeth sinking into the plush of your bottom lip. but you can only get them in so far before your own fingers are getting in the way.
this is short-lived as tartaglia harshly curls his fingers into you. you're gasping out an airy "ajax!" as he draws you farther into his body with his other arm.
"if you wanted my help, you could've just asked, cutie."
the way his voice is low in your ear makes you clamp around his digits as he finger fucks you. his lips are on your neck now, dutifully marking you up as you squirm against his body. he's grinding into you from the back as he finds that spot that has you arching and moaning out even louder. he's prodding at that spot now and your body starts to shake. the sensation of feeling you cum all over his hand has him spiraling and cumming into his own shorts. you're starting to relax against his chest once more, but he's turning you onto your front with his hard cock pressing against your ass. you gasp at how hard he is, and he takes the opportunity to slip the fingers the fingers that were in you into your mouth. he smiles as you start to suck on them. he's going to have so much fun with you tonight.
BONUS: aventurine!
another nightmare has him sitting up in his bed. he's reaching over to grab his water bottle because of how dry his throat is, but it's empty. he groans as he throws the covers off of him. his eyes widen as he hits the bottom of the staircase. there you are, fingers rubbing messy circles on your clit as your legs are spread across the back of the living room couch. you purr his name, his real name out so beautifully as your eyes are squeezed shut, lost in your chase for pleasure.
"enjoying yourself, doll?"
the voice has you shooting up from the chair. there aventurine stood, one hand on his hip, bottle in the other as he smiled slyly at you. his messy hair signified that he'd just woken up, but he still looked as beautiful as ever. he raises his hands up.
"don't let me stop your fun! keep going."
is all he says as he starts to make his way towards the kitchen. you meekly call out his name and he stops in his tracks, craning his head to the side to peer at you once more.
"help, please?"
his mouth may have been dry, but yours definitely wasn't. you're slobbering all over his length, the nasty sounds coming from you causing him to moan. as much as he loves the warmth of your mouth, he'd much rather experience your cunt. so he's pulling you off of him and signaling you to straddle him.
the stretch is ungodly as you slide fully down onto him. you're bending over to catch his lips in a wet kiss as his hands find the fat of your hips. you're rolling them now, nails raking over the exposed expanse of his chest as he fucks up into you slowly.
he's always hated his nightmares with a fiery passion, but he's willing to let this one go just for tonight.
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harlowhockeystick · 1 year
Note
OOOH EXCITING!
Can I please have “you’re giving me those fuck me eyes again” for Travis Kelce please??? <3
contains: fem!reader, established relationship, cuss words, 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI | travis kelce x reader
travis gives me major extrovert x introvert vibes.
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travis loved these events. as a classic extrovert, he got to do his thing and talk to anyone and everyone, striking up conversations about anything and everything. he loved talking to guys he hadn't seen in a while, friends across the league, it was always a good evening when he got to catch up.
on the other hand, you couldn't wait to get home soon enough. all you wanted to do was be there for travis, take the pretty pictures, and go home. nothing more and nothing less. you didn't enjoy being in a scene with new people coming up to you, asking a bunch of senseless questions, but alas, travis had some marketing to do.
but, you always knew a way out of these situations.
catching his eye from across the room you made your intentions very clear. you sat in such a way that made your chest stick out a bit further, the neckline of your dress just daring to expose you in front of all these people. he almost wants you to, but he pushes that thought out. not in front of all these cameras.
making eye contact, your eyes with his icy blue ones, you give him a long look up and down. you undress him with your eyes, having an exact picture in your mind of his naked chest above yours, of that face, that grin he makes right when he slides inside you and sits there for a second before he begins to bruise your hips just a little more than the night before.
he knows what you're doing, and he's a sucker for it every fucking time. he excuses himself out of the conversation and he keeps his eye contact with you as he makes his way toward your table, empty table thank god. he weaves his way in and out of the people and sits down next to you.
"you're giving me those fuck me eyes again, babygirl." he puts a hand on your thigh dangerously close to your core. you feel his fingers grip your soft muscle, rubbing against your soft skin lightly.
"mmm, that's cause i know it works," you hummed, leaning over and placing a light kiss to his cheek, careful to not get too much lip gloss on his skin. "you know i don't like these things trav."
"i know, i just gotta go up, make the speech and then we'll bounce, 'kay?" you sighed nodding your head. "believe me i'd much rather be at home with you, taking that dress off of you and getting on my knees for you."
you took a sharp inhale, "oh trav," you sighed out, "with the way you look i wanna be on my knees for you tonight." you took his hand off your thigh and brought it up to your lips for a kiss, "all night."
his mouth dropped open a little bit. the lights dimmed and soon it was time for travis to go up and make his speech, "hurry up so i can go suck you off in the car."
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arminsumi · 1 year
Note
can i get an eager, inexperienced gojo? he is probably so silly and loving during sexy time but he still acts like a horndog, not sure where to touch, kinda nerv but tryna cover it up bc he’s the strongest sorcerer, ofc he’s been with so many ladies before!!!! (he hasn’t but he doesn’t want YOU to know that)
love your works as always stay safe💗💗💗
AIN'T NEVER DID THIS BEFORE, NO.
𝐆. 𝐒����𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟
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NOTE: this made me think of that j. cole song so i looped it while writing all 2.3k of this fic 🥴 i hope u like what i did!! mwaaa smooches!! hope ur well &lt;3
🔞 mdni / 18+ content
SUMMARY — Gojo's saved up his virginity ever since he met you, savoring every wet dream through the years until he finally got the real thing in a hotel room in Okinawa.
WARNINGS — fem reader, n.sfw content, profanity, pre-established relationship
SMUT WARNINGS — virginity loss, light dirty talk, nicknames (good girl, sweet girl, daddy), Gojo's so nervous and inexperienced wheee😩💗, protected sex/condoms used, multiple rounds (2), kitty eating, giving him head, fluffy ending scene, lmk if i have missed smth and pls overlook errors i'm slepy asf it's 2am
Wordcount ≈ 2.3k
Playme ♪ wet dreamz
🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !
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You can’t miss the way his Addam’s apple shifts up and down when he swallows, or the way he gawks when you wiggle out of your clothes and toss them off the side of the hotel bed.
Where are my hands supposed to go?
He’s thinking that while haphazardly squeezing a large handful of your hips and hotly kissing your neck.
This has been his long-anticipated dream come true… see, Gojo Satoru met you in high school. And the first thing he thought to himself was I want her to take my virginity. So, he had promised himself that one day, when he was older, he was gonna give it to you.
All his cheeky flirting and dirty jokes got him here, in this room of some dreadfully expensive hotel in Okinawa. Yes, he’s cheesy, as cheesy as he was when he used to lean over his desk during high school to whisper dumb pickup lines into your ear; he requested rose petals and wine. He had the lights dimmed. He laid you down with kisses right on top of those strewn petals.
Crazed, feverish, eager, overwhelmed; he was bursting with a bunch of feelings – predominantly horniness. He’s always had that horny twang about him, he was unashamed about it around you – it’s what got you hot for him in the first place, the fact that he was so bold with his dirty jokes and naughty hints.
But now he’s struggling to find his words. Now that smart mouth is sparsely throwing out witty remarks. Now he was heavily relying on comedy to ease his nervousness and mask his inexperienced movements.
He let you roll on top and savored each kiss that you pressed down his chest – heaving, he was heaving and hot already and all the two of you had done so far was romantic French kissing and tentative touches across each other’s bare skin.
The heat of your flushed cheeks seared his lower abdomen.
How low is she gonna go – oh my god what do I do – play it cool – oh my god is she actually – wow this is really happening.
Such a mess of goofy thoughts passed through his mind when you pressed a testing kiss to his glistening cockhead. Giving the slit a lick made his shoulders scrunch up, and his voice shook a bit, “Shit, baby, you don’t have to do that if you don’t w – want to… oh fuck…”
“But I’ve wanted to suck it so bad, I’ve thought about it so much.” You batted your eyes at him.
His stomach flipped.
“O-okay… ” he breathed. In the back of his mind, he was self-conscious about sounding like a virgin… because he totally was. And he wasn’t masking it very well when you started kissing and licking on his cock.
Feling your tongue swirl circles around his bulbous head, then swiping the underside, nearly made him bust right there. It took every bit of this strong boy’s strength to hold it in. And there was a lot to hold in.
“Oh that’s so fucking good.” He moaned.
You lowered your lips down his slickened cock, the warmth and texture of it delighting your tongue. Taking in his scent, his taste, his sounds – when you hollowed out your cheeks and suctioned your lips around him, he let out an uneasy moan. He was really gonna bust right there in your mouth if he didn’t tell you to ease up.
“B-baby, you’re so good at that – but – but fuckkk – slow down f’me…” he pleaded, big hand coming to the back of your head as you slid off his cock – that also almost made him bust. Oh god, you unknowingly edged him. Maybe you knew that, because you giggled at the way his cock jumped and visibly twitched after popping your lips off of it.
“Sorry, you good?” you asked him sweetly. He looked at you through lust-glazed eyes, his lower lip glistening with a bit of drool.
“ ‘m okay – fuck come here and get on your back. ‘Wanna do that to you too.” He commanded you, eagerly shuffling positions.
He lowered his face between your legs, marvelling at the shiny wet sheen smeared across your inner thigh. A thin web of juice connected from your hole.
“Sorry, I know it’s rude to stare.” He chuckled, joking to lighten his nerves. But earning a laugh from you made his heart flutter before he dove right into it – now here’s where you realized something.
He was inexperienced. Totally. Sweetly so. His tongue flicked and darted around, swiping along your slit, gathering your juices like he was thirsty. The way he licked you up felt like he was some college boy giving his crush head in a lucid dream.
But if there’s one thing you know about Gojo Satoru, it’s that he can do anything he tries. You started out giggling and squirming on his face, and ended up squealing his name and arching your back. Switching between suckling at your clit and lapping at your folds and slipping his buttery tongue into your hole – he was having fun figuring it out.
And my god, he had the biggest, smuggest, most smackable grin on his face when he made you cum.
“W-wipe that grin off your face.” You panted, half-dazed from your orgasm.
His grin only grew wider. Now he was feeling a bit cocky, a little high on a sugar rush of confidence because he just made the girl of his dreams cum from a little amateur tongue-fucking.
“You musta really wanted it bad, huh?” he teased, crawling up to meet your face and pressing a few wet, sloppy kisses to your awaiting lips. You could taste yourself, and he was conscious of that – and it made him almost bust on your tummy. You felt his cock jumping and twitching and throbbing against your skin.
“Don’t get all smug now…” you muttered.
His plumped, flushed lips hovered over your face. “Thanks for the meal.” He whispered jokingly, wiping your juice off his cheek with his thumb and suckling it off.
“Hahaha what!” you broke out laughing. “You’re ridiculous!”
He ran his tongue over his lips to tease you, “Tasted better than in my dreams.”
Now that made you flush hotter underneath him. Because for some reason, it hadn’t occurred to you that he had wet dreams of you. But he did. And he was too embarrassed to admit the number – it was big. He dreamed of you a lot. Especially taking you from the back… so naturally
“Turn around f’me, please?” he asked, “I wanna see you from the back.”
Your lack of hesitation to switch positions for him made his heart thump.
“Good girl…” he muttered under his breath, unsure of how you’d take the nickname. But hearing your giggly hum and seeing your hips wiggle up to his pelvis reassured him that you liked it.
So he engulfed you from behind, “You like that?” he whispered into your ear, big hand smoothing over the curves of your body to get a good feel of it. “Want me to call you a good girl?”
You nodded into the plush pillow, “Yes please. I like it.” You mumbled into the fabric.
“Can’t hear you, speak up.” He smiled against the shell of your ear teasingly. “Daddy’s hard of hearing.” He joked.
You rolled your eyes at his dumb goofiness. For some reason you thought it would switch off in the bedroom, but no – he was just as much as a dumb good in and out of bed.
“ ‘call me your good girl, please. I like it.”
His cock twitched. He’d started rubbing and pressing his cock into you from the back. The way your thighs and plush little pussy hugged him was better than any dream – lucid or not. And he’s had a lot of lucid wet dreams of you. Of this, specifically; taking you from behind. In his dreams, he’s pounding into you so good that you cream and cream and cream all over him. He just hopes he can actually achieve that in reality.
When he lowers his hands and fists his cock a bit before running the head between your folds, a pang of nervousness strikes his chest. That feeling came over him – that realization that oh, I’m gonna have my first time.
“So pretty…” he compliments, one hand soothingly caressing around your pussy.
To you, it almost feels like he might have done this before – you’re not sure – with the way he lightly smacks his cock on your hole, and the way he tests your smallness by slipping his tip in and out, you think he’s probably got at least a bit of experience under his belt.
But no. No, not at all. Not even a little bit. In fact, before you, he only kissed two people – and the first didn’t count to him because he hated it, and the second also didn’t count apparently because he was just practicing with Suguru in anticipation of kissing you one day.
“Fuck me…” he hissed through his gritted teeth when he finally sunk more than his tip through your hole.
“Fucking didn’t expect it to feel this good…” he thought out loud. “Might bust right here… fuck.” He blurted, then proceeded to boyishly blush.
Little hole squeezing on his virgin cock, hips wiggling back to meet his pelvis and take him deeper, you pawed behind you to feel him. “Baby, I-I gotta tell you something.” He begins embarrassedly, the nervous twang in his voice is so unfamiliar that you look back at him. “I’ve never done this before…” after he said that he sucked in a breath through his teeth at the feeling of your hole tightening and untightening.
You blink at him, and he’s worried for a split second before you smile sheepishly and tell him that he’s your first, too. Well, that little fun fact is what made him snap his hips against your ass and start fucking into you like he was some sort of crazed animal. He felt dizzied with the rush of pleasure, so stirred by the feeling of your pussy sucking his cock – there was no comparable thing in the world to him right then. He was definitely gonna become a sex-crazed fiend after this night, he thought. Absolutely. How could he not?
“S’toruuu – right there right there!” you cried out his name with such a pretty, strained voice that it made him want to tell you he loves you.
“Here? You like it here?” he hit that spot harder and harder, the squelching sound so dirty that you almost felt ashamed for a second. “My good girl gonna cum like this? Yeah? F-fuck t-t-tell me when you’re close ‘cause I’m close – really fucking close – fuck fuck fuck ahhh ‘gonna cum!”
He’s driving into that sweet spot while he cums, spilling a warm creamy mess into the condom – completely falling to pieces. Gojo’s always been inclined to obsessing over things, and he knows right then – when he cums with your quivering pussy sucking him in – that he’s gonna be obsessing over sex with you after this.
“Keep goinggg ‘m gonna cum too, please!” you whimpered from underneath him. He heard you, he was attentive even though he was panting and dazed. His thrusts got sloppy and he weighted on your body more heavily, you could feel his heartbeat.
“Good girl – g-good girl, rub your pretty clit. Want me to do it for you? M’kay sweet thing, lemme get you there – ah yeah? That feel good? You like daddy’s fingers toying with this pretty pussy? Oh fuck you’re gonna cum aren’t you?” he breathed all that into your ear and it absolutely destroyed you, especially with how those intense blue eyes piercingly stared down at you from behind.
“Get that relief, pretty girl – cum all over me. Fuck, there we go – oh wow…” he hit another sweet spot, feeling you gush and writhe under his imposing frame got him close again. “Fuck, baby – just a second, j-just a second ‘m gonna get ‘nother condom, n-need to fucking cum in that pussy again.” He pulled out quick, fingers struggling to free his cock of his already filled lil’ rubber. Squeezing into another one was one of the fastest yet most frustrating things he’s done in a while – oh, you just know that he’s gonna ditch the condoms as soon as you give him the green light to do so. Patience, he thought. He’s gonna need patience and a lot of rubbers.
“Ah fuck me! Satoru!” you arched your back when he re-entered.
“ ‘m gonna cum again, baby – fuck – s-sorry is it too much?” he breathed into your neck. Sweat beaded down his torso, down his thighs – both your bodies pricked with just enough sweat to make it erotically uncomfortable.
You barely managed to tell him that it wasn’t too much because of the way he was sloppily hitting his cockhead into your pussy. Feverish, dazed, pussy-drunk and love-drunk, you felt his hot lips nibbling at your shoulder, then he unexpectedly sank his teeth into your skin. It wasn’t sore, but those canines were a bit sharp.
Muffled moans on your skin sent a shiver down your back, one that travelled to your ass and thighs.
Rolling off to the side, panting and laying exhausted and unmoving.
“Fuck.” He muttered as if to say that was mind-blowing.
“Fuck.” You agreed.
“And ya didn’t even tell me you were a virgin!”
“You didn’t tell me, either!” you giggled, rolling into his embrace.
“But it’s hot if the girl is a virgin!”
You laughed with him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.
He stayed silent for a little while, pulling you closer and caressing your shoulder. The two of you stared up at the ceiling.
“It’s embarrassing.” He admitted. “There was a time I wanted to lose my virginity just so that when I finally got to you, I’d be able to please you better. But I’m glad I waited…”
“Mmm really?” you hummed, he felt your smile print on his chest.
“…yeah.” You could hear his little smile in his voice. “I’m glad I gave it to you.”
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daisynik7 · 1 year
Text
test drive
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Pairing: ex-boyfriend!Eren x f!reader
Word Count: ~4.9k
cw: exes-to-lovers, a breakup scene (flashback) established past relationship, fluff, some angst, smut - car sex (cowgirl), blowjob, cunnilingus, face-riding, 69 position, sex with no condom, multiple orgasms, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, princess, baby)
Summary: You’re moving back to your hometown of Paradis after completing two long years of grad school in Marley. In desperate need of a car, you’re surprised to hear from your ex-boyfriend Eren, who graciously offers you one.  Author’s Note: Had this in my head for a while, brain is a little fried at the moment, but I just had to get this out! Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are always appreciated! Header image found on Pinterest, mdni divider by @/mikeykuns.
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“Eren, do you think we should break up?”
The two of you are in your bedroom, finished packing the last of your luggage before you fly out to Marley tomorrow morning. It’s near midnight on the last day of summer. The windows are open, and the chirping of crickets is loud amidst the silence of the night air. He zips your suitcase closed, peering at you, confused. “What?”
It’s been the lingering question on your mind the past couple of weeks, but you were too afraid to mention it. Maybe you were hoping that the thought would go away on its own. You didn’t really want to break up. You love him. The idea of being apart scares you, though. The uncertainty, the unknown. Two years isn’t very long in the grand scheme of life, but who’s to say you don’t end up deciding to remain in Marley for good? Eren has already made it clear that he has no intentions of leaving Paradis. Would staying together be a waste of time when the future is so unpredictable?
You bite your lip, nervous to elaborate, voice timid. “I’ve heard that long distance is really hard.”
He stands up, crossing his arms over his chest. “So? We’ll get through it.”
“Will we, though? I’m going to be busy with school, and you’re starting your new job. Plus, Marley is so far away. When are we ever going to see each other?” 
He stares at you as if you’re sputtering nonsense. “We’ll make it work,” he answers, definitive. 
“It’s not going to be easy.”
He scratches his scalp, frustrated. “I don’t understand. Do you want to break up?”
You stay quiet, contemplating. When you don’t respond right away, he says, “You do, don’t you?” He sounds like he’s been betrayed, which in retrospect, he has been. By you, of all people. The person who’s supposed to love him. 
Breathing staggered, tears welling in your eyes, you murmur, “I just don’t know if we can do it.”
He begins pacing the floor, voice increasing in volume, rightfully upset. “You don’t know if you can do it. Me? I’m all in. You’re already giving up before we try.”
“I just don’t want either of us to get hurt!” you cry.
“What do you call this, then?!” he yells, tears rolling down his cheeks. “This fucking hurts! Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way sooner?”
“I don’t know! I wasn’t sure! I was scared.” You sob into your hands. “I’m sorry, Eren.”
He’s shaking his head erratically, fists bunched in his hair. “I can’t believe you’re doing this right now. After all we’ve been through. You don’t even want to give it a shot.”
You swallow hard, wiping snot from your nose. “We can try it out. Let’s try it out,” you plead with him, regretting it. 
“No. It’s too late now. You already set us up for failure. Since you’re not confident about us, then maybe this isn’t going to work out after all.” He sounds spiteful. Daggers piercing through your heart in the form of harsh words. And while you struggle for breath, drenching the fabric of your t-shirt, you can’t blame him for reacting this way. You spent an amazing summer together, and the night before you leave, you drop a grenade like this. What were you thinking?
“Eren,” you beg, sniffling
“I gotta go,” he mutters, grabbing his keys, avoiding your gaze. 
“Eren, wait!” you shout, following him out the room. Down the stairs. Through the front door. In front of his car. “Eren! I’m sorry! I take it back!”
“Have a nice life in Marley,” he spits out, getting into his car, slamming it shut, and reversing out of the driveway without another word. Headlights reflect off the shimmer in your eyes, watching him leave.
That’s the last time you saw Eren. The next day, you boarded your flight to Marley and moved into your new home. You tried to call him, text him, even pestered friends and family to urge him to reach out to you. He never did. And all the while, you still don’t blame him for reacting the way he did. 
The two of you were happy. You loved each other. And when an inkling of hardship reared its ugly head, you ran for it instead of facing it. There’s no way you could have predicted that your relationship would fall apart. In fact, there’s many times that you’ve considered how much stronger the two of you would have gotten if you did stay together. Distance makes the heart grow fonder. If you had believed that sooner, you wouldn’t be living with this remorse. 
It's been over two years since that day. Life continued, though it was tough not having Eren around anymore. He was always your biggest supporter, the anchor that kept you afloat. Grad school wouldn’t have been as stressful if you had him by your side, but you managed to scrape by. You made new friends along the way while maintaining your relationships from home. Mikasa and you would chat regularly, and on occasion, she would mention Eren’s name in passing. You received little footnotes of his life through her, but overall, he’s a stranger to you now. 
That being said, you’re shocked to finally hear from him after that fateful night two years ago. 
Following graduation, you secured a job in Paradis nearby your hometown. For now, the plan is to move in with your family until you save enough money to move out. Unfortunately, you don’t have car. So, in an unexpected turn of events, you sit in the rear of a taxi, on your way to Eren’s. 
Eren: Heard you’re home and you need a car.
Those were his first words to you after two whole years of radio silence. After telling you to have a nice life in Marley. Of course, you were stunned when his name popped up on your screen in the first place, even more so to see his offer to help you. Most likely he was informed about your current situation by Mikasa. Nevertheless, it shocks you that he wants anything to do with you. 
You actually want to meet with him. It may be no more than a business transaction, but to see him in the flesh will be nice. Will it fix what happened? Probably not. It’s worth a shot, though, for some peace of mind. Maybe this is his own way of telling you that he’s over it, and that the two of you can finally put this to bed. 
So, you arrange a time to meet at his place. He gives you an unfamiliar address; it seems he moved out of his parent’s house not long after he started working. Mikasa had mentioned that before. What she’s never disclosed with you is if he’s been dating. On your way to him, your belly begins to fill with dread. Could you handle seeing Eren with another woman? Living together, happily in love? You want him to be happy, but with someone else? Deep down, you still love him. You never dated anyone seriously during your time in Marley. No one even came close to him. He’ll never get back together with you, not after what happened. In fact, you’re positive he’s already found someone, a person who will appreciate him and love him for all he is. Someone who isn’t afraid. It’s better he’s with someone else; you actually hope you see that today, so that you can finally move on. 
The trip takes over half an hour. You recognize the route being taken; the same one you would take on the way to Paradis University, where you and Eren met for the first time. During freshman year, Mikasa, your roommate at the time, introduced you to him. The two of you became fast friends, even faster lovers. The spark was there the moment you shook his hand, the moment he gazed into your eyes, flashing that charming smile at you. It was casual at first, no labels, no strings attached. Two horny college kids fulfilling their sexual desires exclusively with one another. Kisses and sex soon became something more, something special. By the time you were sophomores, it was official: he was yours and you were his. 
The driver enters a quaint neighborhood, pulling up to the front of a modern apartment complex. Once you pay the fare, you step out, inspecting the building. Eren lives on the third floor; each unit has a balcony overlooking the neighborhood, the nearby cityscape in the near distance. It’s a beautiful location and your curiosity gets the best of you. Who is he currently sharing his life with? Do they watch sunrises together from their grand view, sipping their morning coffee in domestic bliss? Should it be you instead? 
Before you get carried away with your imagination, you retrieve your phone from your bag, texting him that you have arrived and are waiting outside. There’s no reason for you to head up into his apartment, right? You’re here to check out his car; that’s it. You can’t help thinking that it would be fun to check out. For research purposes, of course.
He replies quickly, mentioning how he’ll head down to you. You take a few deep breaths, mentally preparing yourself to see him for the first time ever since your bitter goodbye. Do you hug him? Keep your distance? Should you say anything personal or keep it strictly professional? All of these conflicting feelings are fighting with each other in your head. There’s so much you want to tell him: your life the last two years, how sorry you are for the way it ended, how much you miss him. At the same time, you want a clean slate, almost as if you’re strangers meeting for the first time. 
As he steps out from the lobby, you freeze on the spot, dazzled by his presence. What strikes you initially is how long his hair has gotten; it’s enough to put up into a small bun, with a few stray strands scattered around his face. His eyes are as brilliant as ever, barely visible dark circles underneath from age or stress, most likely the lather; it hasn’t been that long. There’s still that youthful charm about him, though. That will never fade.
He's dressed in a plain white t-shirt and black sweats pants, an outfit reminiscent of his college years, laid-back and casual. You’ve always liked this look on him, always found it sexy. Too many memories of you stripping this exact attire off him, hasty to make love in the twin bed of his dormitory. You try to shake these thoughts away as he approaches you with a rigid disposition, hesitant and a bit awkward. He clears his throat before saying, “Hey.” His hands are in his pockets as he greets you. 
You respond with a gentle smile. “Hi.”
This is going to be harder than you thought. 
~~~
Two years. That’s how long it’s been since they broke up, since he last saw her. Two whole fucking years. 
Eren didn’t want to break up. The thought never even crossed his mind. He was determined to be with her the rest of his life, of their lives. That’s why he got so upset when she suggested it. They spent an entire summer together, perfect in every possible way, and she had the nerve to ask that question the night before the big move? Do you think we should break up? He couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. They were supposed to love each other forever. 
It doesn’t excuse the way he behaved to her afterwards. Instead of discussing it like a mature adult, he exploded, too caught up in the storm of emotions raging in his head. His ego was hurt, pride shot down, heart betrayed. Following that night, Eren was too ashamed by the whole ordeal; he thought it’d be easier to ignore it and move on. 
Move on. Yeah right.
He replays those scenes constantly. Her pleas of We can try it out. Let’s try it out. I’m sorry! I take it back! ringing in his ears like a broken record, reminding him that if they talked about it, if he had just turned around to work it out, maybe they’d still be together. They’d be happy. It’s the biggest regret of his life; not fighting for her and letting her slip away. A fleeting moment of weakness and fear leading to their ultimate demise. A tragic ending to such a beautiful story. Can they ever get the happy ending they wanted? 
He tried to date other women; it never amounted to anything serious. Eventually, Eren gave up on the dating scene all together, focusing his energy on other priorities like his career and friendships. He was hoping that one day, he’d magically be over her.
When Mikasa informs him about her move back to Paradis, he knows immediately he needs to meet with her. Seeing her one last time might be the key to moving on once and for all. So, he finally decides to be mature and contact her, under the guise of giving her one of his cars. In his defense, he’s been meaning to sell it anyways. He never could quite let it go, though, considering it’s the car he drove all throughout college, with her. Late night drives to Maria’s Point, holding hands and kissing beneath the stars. Fast food runs at their favorite drive-thru, her feeding French fries to him from the passenger side, cruising through the empty streets with their favorite music blaring through the radio speakers. Even the backseat has seen plenty of action during those years, the foreground to many naughty trysts away from campus. Every corner of it carries a memory of her; that’s why he’s been so reluctant to let it go. He still loves her. But that’s all in the past. This car will be the final peace offering that will allow him to move on. He’s got it all planned out. 
What he’s not prepared for is the rush of emotions that flood his chest upon seeing her. This is definitely not part of the plan. 
When he greets her, she smiles at him, the same radiant smile he’s yearned for the two years of her absence. One that instantly warms his soul. He does his best to maintain his composure. Keep it together, he thinks to himself, stuffing his hands in his pockets while he clenches his fists, bursting at the seams. This isn’t part of the plan. 
He kicks the ground with his heels, fidgeting. “So…it’s been a minute, huh?” He does a mental eye roll to himself. Did he really say that? Idiot, idiot, idiot. 
She giggles, and he nearly combusts. How is it that a simple laugh can ignite every fiber of his being? He’s a fool for assuming he could get through this unscathed. “Yeah. It has. How are you?” Her expression is sincere; he always loved that about her, how intently she listens, how much she cares. Even after their harsh breakup, that sincerity remains. She’s making this much more difficult than he expected. 
He shrugs, nonchalant. “I’m okay. You?”
She mimics him, raising her shoulders. “I’m alright.”
He chews his lip nervously before asking, “Well, do you want to check out the car?” Stick to the plan. Stick to the plan, he reminds himself. 
She nods, following him to the parking garage to his designated spot. Her eyes widen when she sees it. “You want to sell me this?”
“Yup.”
She inspects it, mouth parted, surprised. “Wow. The Titan.”
He busts out in laughter, amused that she remembers the silly nickname they came up with freshman year. “I can’t believe you remember that.”
She turns to look at him, eyes twinkling, lips curled into a warm smile. “How could I forget?”
He swallows hard, saliva thick on his tongue. Fluttering in his core, tingling through his fingers. The question stumbles out quickly. “Want to take it out for a spin? A test drive?” 
Eren’s aware that this is dangerous territory. The two of them, enclosed in the small space of his car, memories in every crevice of the interior. It’s his chance to properly apologize for what happened. That’s how he justifies it, at least. Part of him also wants to recreate their past together. Riding in his car, fingers laced together on the center console, singing their favorite songs with the windows rolled down, wind blowing on their smiling faces. It’s infeasible; he doesn’t even know if she feels the same way. There’s that tiny portion of him that holds out hope; she did agree to meet him. That means something, right?
She contemplates for a moment. “Sure. Can you drive, though?”
“Still the passenger princess, I see.” 
“Some things never change, right?” She gives him a wink before stepping to the side of the car, waiting for him to unlock the doors. 
He gulps, thrilled and jittery at whatever adventure they’re about to embark on. In the corner of his mind, all he can think is 
Fuck the plan. 
~~~
You weren’t supposed to get in it with him. The idea was to meet him and do the exchange, simple as that. When you recognize the car, all the memories you shared flood into your mind. You let your emotions get the best of you; you want one more special moment with Eren. It’s only fair to your relationship to end it on a good note, right? You weren’t expecting anything more than closure, which was what the both of you needed. 
He doesn’t tell you where he’s driving to, but he doesn’t have to. By the time you’re on the highway, you watch the sun set in the distance from the rearview mirror. You pass by multiple signs, indicating Maria’s Point in x number of miles, the amount decreasing the closer you approach it. The two of you chat, condensing all from the past two years into a half hour car ride. You describe your experience in grad school, he talks about his full-time job. It’s cordial, like two old friends catching up after a while being apart. Except the both of you are fully aware of the elephant squished in the backseat of The Titan. Neither of you mention anything about it.
He drives up the familiar hill leading up to the panorama at the top of the cliff. This spot of Maria’s Point is often secluded, which was perfect for you and Eren back in the day. He parks away from the edge, the last rays of orange and pink hovering on the skyline. With a twist of his keys, he shuts off the ignition and it’s silent. Suddenly, after effortless conversation, you’re shy, unable to speak. 
Luckily, he does. “I actually want to talk to you about something important.”
You snap your seatbelt off, adjusting to give him your full attention. His hands remain on the steering wheel, drumming his fingers nervously. “I’m sorry for the way I acted that night.” He doesn’t need to elaborate; you know exactly what he’s referring to. You’re caught off guard from the apology, so you keep quiet, waiting for him to continue. 
After a deep breath, he explains, “I blew up, and I shouldn’t have. I got upset because I thought you had given up before we even tried. But I know you were scared; I was too. Regardless, it wasn’t right and I’m sorry. For that and for avoiding you after.” He slides his hands around the wheel, dropping them to his lap. His eyes are forward, avoiding you. 
When he doesn’t have more to add, you respond. “Thank you. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have blindsided you. I should have told you how I was feeling instead of ignoring it until the last minute. Like you said, I was scared, so I ran away from it without even giving it a shot. It wasn’t fair to you, and it wasn’t fair to us.” He’s focuses on you now, listening carefully as you talk. “Just so you know, I never blamed you for how you reacted. I deserved it.”
He shifts his body towards you, shaking his head. “No, you didn’t deserve that. I didn’t even say goodbye.”
You blink away the oncoming tears from your eyes. “It’s okay, Eren. We can do that now.”
The stillness that follows is concerning. He studies you with an unreadable expression, contemplating. Then, he leans closer to you, elbow resting on the center console, his breath tickling your cheeks, whispering, “I don’t want to say goodbye.”
You gravitate towards him, lessening the space between you, gazing at his lips. “You don’t?”
“I never wanted to in the first place.”
Drifting forward, you rest your forehead to his, the skin-to-skin contact rekindling the spark that burned so brightly not too long ago. “Eren.”
“I miss you,” he confesses. “Every fucking day.” 
His lips graze yours, eyes watching you, waiting. Unable to hold back any longer, you kiss him, melting into him seamlessly. The two years of remorse vanish in an instant, and you’re transported in time, as if you were never apart. You touch your palm on his chest, his racing heartbeat thumping against your fingertips. He slides his hand around the nape of your neck, cradling you gently, deepening the kiss. His lips are soft on yours, prudent and delicate, careful not to overbear you. 
You pull off to catch your breath, clutching at his t-shirt so that’s it’s bunched into your fist. “I missed you, Eren.”
He swallows loudly, eyes half-lidded in a daze. “I missed you so fucking much,” he mutters, driving his tongue inside your mouth, kissing you desperately now. He drinks you up like he’s dying of thirst, the only cure to his drought. You match him, opening wider, swirling your tongue with his. His lips trail to your neck, sucking on the pulse point beneath your chin.  
“Eren,” you moan, running your fingers through his hair. 
“I love hearing you say my name. Fuck,” he swears, licking at the spot. He marks you on the other side, nibbling lightly at your skin with his teeth. “Did you ever think about me?”
“Every day,” you admit, eyes closed as he moves to your ear, pinching your lobe between his lips. “And you?”
“All the time,” he answers. He breaks away, cupping your cheek tenderly in his palm. “I’m still in love with you. I love you.”
Your breath hitches, throat tight with emotion, though you manage to utter, “I love you too.”
He beams at you before suggesting, “Should we get out of here? Go to my place?”
Tugging at his collar, you shake your head with a smirk. “I can’t wait that long.”
Understanding what you’re implying, he suggests, “Backseat?”
You give him a wet smooch and a nod. He chuckles, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Are you that needy for me, baby? Can’t even wait to go home?”
Glancing at his lap, the evident bulge protruding from his sweats, you scoff at him playfully. “Don’t act like you aren’t either. Look how big you are already.”
He grins, exiting the driver’s side and quickly sliding into the backseat, spreading his legs wide, hoisting his shirt off to reveal his chiseled torso. “You’re right. I’ve been waiting two years, please don’t make me wait any longer.”
You follow him to the rear, shrugging your blouse and pants off hastily until you’re down to your underwear. He marvels at your bare figure, licking his lips while you kneel beside him. “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispers, scanning you up and down, almost in disbelief. “Would you think about me whenever you touched yourself?”
Nestled to his lap, ass sticking out, you nod, rubbing your face on the erection straining against the fabric. “I only thought about you, Eren.”
“Fuck,” he groans, mesmerized. He pets you, brushing his thumb across your cheeks. “Me too, sweetie. No one makes me come the way you do.” He lifts his hips to slide his bottoms and boxers down his legs, exposing his hard cock standing stiff and pretty, glistening with precum leaking from the tip. 
You’re salivating, spit coating your entire mouth, hungry for his cock. Without wasting another second, you swallow him, surrounding him in your wet heat until he hits the back of your throat. He bucks up slightly, thighs trembling beneath you. “Fuck,” he swears, trailing your spine, gliding to your ass. “Always so good to me.” He slips beneath your panties, teasing your entrance. “Can I fuck you with these fingers? Please?”
You nod with his cock in your mouth, slurping the drool trickling on his shaft, bobbing on him. He slides one in, then another, pumping them in and out of you as you moan around his dick. He wriggles inside you, stimulating your sweet spot, gushing on his digits with your first orgasm. His follows immediately after, his load spurting onto your tongue, guzzling every last drop of him. 
You release him, turning over so your head is resting on his lap, peering up at his face. His hand is between your legs, rubbing the soft plush of your thighs, smiling down at you. He teases your clit, flicking his wet fingers on it, causing you to whine. 
“You still like it when I play with you like this,” he purrs, watching you twitch from the pleasure. “My good girl always comes so much for me.” He caresses your forehead gently, toying with your swollen bud. “Can you give me another one, princess?” Too many times do you remember him pleasuring you, sitting in the passenger seat, you gripping to his wrist, directing his hand to your pussy. Tonight is no different; he’s just as relentless, tapping away at you until your creaming for him once more. 
“I need to fucking taste you,” he growls, slipping his fingers past his lips, licking them. “Sit up, sweetie. Ride me while you make me hard again.”
It’s clumsy maneuvering in the cramped space, but eventually, you get into position. He’s below you, slurping at your sopping pussy as you’re bent over his cock, licking the head as you stroke him off. The windows begin fogging up, the air sweltering and humid. Your knee digs uncomfortably into the cushion, the other hangs off the edge of the seat, foot planted to the floor. Eren manages to fit his impressive stature, one leg angled and stretched towards the driver’s side, the other laid across the backseat, enough space for you to blow him while you ride his face. 
“I missed this sloppy cunt,” he muffles, spreading his tongue on you. He spits, smearing his frothy saliva across your clit, puckered around it, sucking. 
Once he’s hard again, you beg, “Fuck me, Eren.” You’re close to another climax and you’re desperate to come with him in you this time. “Please.”
He laughs, lifting you off, his face glossy with your slick, covering his nose, mouth, and chin. “Whatever you want, princess.” He sits up against the seat, legs splayed like a throne for you to sit pretty on. You straddle his lap, rubbing your pussy on his cock before guiding it into your entrance. 
You both drawl out, “Fuck,” kissing messily, arms wrapped around each other in a snug embrace. You ride him feverishly as he fucks up into you, gripping onto your hips tightly, bouncing you on his dick. You’re both sweating immensely, the temperature in the car sweltering, but neither of you mind it, too concentrated on each other’s orgasms, too addicted to the high you’re chasing together. 
“Fuck, baby. I’m so close,” he groans, picking up the pace, his thighs slapping lewdly against your ass.
“Come inside me, Eren. Fill me up,” you whimper, pushing the hair away from his sweaty forehead. 
“Yeah? You want it? Take it then. Take it sweetheart.” His eyes are shut tight as he shoots his load, thick cock pulsing inside you. You ride out your orgasm with him, scattering delicate kisses on his face. He grins, gazing at you with a hazy expression. 
“What’s that look for?” you ask, booping his nose. 
“Nothing,” he replies, cheeks rounded into a bigger smile. He squeezes your face between his palms. “I’m just happy. So unbelievably happy right now.”
You place your hands over his, leaning into his touch. “Me too.”
You stay comfortably like this for a few minutes, Eren cracking the windows open to let out some steam. You joke, “So, are you still going to sell me this car?”
He chuckles. “How about I give it to you. I was going to anyways.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. It was supposed to be a peace offering. But I like this outcome way better.”
“Me too. But I’m not going to just take it from you. Let me pay you for it.”
He tips your chin to look at you, grinning wide. “How about you move in with me instead?”
“What?” you giggle, unable to contain your smile, thrilled by the suggestion.
“Move in with me,” he repeats, nuzzling his nose to yours. 
“Isn’t this is a little too soon, considering we just got back together?”
He stretches his arms out, relaxing into the seat, smirking at you. “We already wasted two years without each other, I’m not wasting any more time.”
You scoot closer to him, kissing his cheek, then his lips. “Okay, you’ve got a deal.”
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hannieween · 8 months
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killer | heartbreaker series | c.sc
Choi Seungcheol is a strategist to his core. And he thought it would be simple to steal princess from her castle. Well, he thought wrong.
✧ pairing: choi seungcheol x female reader ✧ genre: angst, fluff, smut (18+) ✧ aus: gambler seungcheol, boyfriend seungcheol ✧ word count: 18.3k
↣ previous chapters – other fics – buy me coffee? ᨐฅ
₊🎧: heartbreak – minho | winterfall – dpr ian | flower-ed – i.m
₊ nsfw tags under the cut
✧ warnings: flashback chapter, this chapter is really long pls bear w me, smut with plot, reader has an abusive family, cheol is a bit possessive, a whole lot of drama i warned you, first times, corruption kink, oral sex (f), pussy stretching, body worshipping, multiple unprotected sex scenes, pull out method, a whole lot of exhibitionism: sex in public spaces; mentions of alcohol, couch sex, creampie, daddy kink, dom seungcheol, sub reader, big dick seungcheol, monsta x i.m makes an appearance (i love that man, let me be), pet names: love, baby, beautiful, angel (hers), daddy, babe (his)
✧ a/n: this is loosely proofread.
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✧ disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.
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part iii
six years before – (first year together)
The first time Seungcheol saw you, he swore he had never laid eyes on someone so beautiful. You were strolling around the party wearing a literal tiara on your head and a sparkly dress that played with his eyesight when you walked past him. 
The place was so packed with people but still, you had managed to drive the attention of nearby eyes to you only. When you danced with your girlfriends all in a group and started drinking out of a strawberry vodka, straight from the bottle.
"Birthday girl gets to drink first!" one of your friends chanted over the loud music. That was how Seungcheol knew that it was your birthday. 
Probably that explained the tiara on your head, he thought.
Although Seungcheol had found at last something interesting to hold his attention to, he couldn't help but think that it was a weird place for someone like you to be in. 
He sat at a round foldable table, a ragged green cloth covered it. Completely cluttered with red plastic cups, ashtrays, a lonely tequila bottle and packs of cards. 
Seungcheol had thought that the reunion for tonight would only be for the game. But upon arriving he immediately thought that the crowd was mixed, since on one corner you and your friends were getting blasted, another corner was occupied by the table he was sitting at. And between them, a lot of people who he didn't recognize.
One of your friends laughed loudly when you tilted your head back, mouth wide open while the other poured alcohol down your throat. But you closed your mouth too soon, spilling vodka on your chin and down your neck. 
"What the fuck?" Changkyun muttered under his breath, flicking the bud of the cigarette he was taking to his mouth to give it a long draw, winking one eye as he looked over his shoulder to your friend group. 
"Honey's girlfriend invited them," Seungcheol explained briefly, after being informed of the situation. "It's someone's birthday, I think."
"Mm," he nodded his head and exhaled the smoke slowly. "That would explain all the squealing." 
There was indeed a lot of laughter and squealing coming from your friend group. He noticed that you were probably just here for a pre-drinking session because it was a tad bit too early to be downing shots like that, unless you were planning to go elsewhere. 
You twirled around for one of your friends who apparently wanted to see your sparkly dress and when you did, you elicited a bunch of 'aws' and compliments from your girlfriends, making you blush and cover your face with your hands. 
Seungcheol smiled. Pretty. He threw his head back as he downed the last sip of soju from the bottle. Mind reeling, split in two between the game and the start of his new plan. 
When the game came to an end, Seungcheol collected his prize from the table and pocketed it with a nonchalant expression on his face. 
Changkyun clicked his tongue. "I'll get you next time, Coups." 
Seungcheol rolled his eyes when he heard his friend use his old nickname. "Sure you will, Kyun." 
He rose from the chair and followed his friend out the tiny apartment and onto the open halls of the building complex for a smoke. 
Seungcheol shook his head when offered the blunt. "I'm driving back home," he muttered and bent on the rails to prop his elbows over it. 
Changkyun sucked in a breath and blew the smoke slowly. It was quiet outside, the night had only begun and he could sense that the interesting part was just about to begin. 
"Hiii," a small chirpy voice broke the silence. Seungcheol looked over his shoulder and his friend did too. 
A girl, who Seungcheol vaguely recognized, waved her hand at the pair of unsuspecting men. 
"Hi," Changkyun replied first, the velvet lacing his voice almost made Seungcheol huff in utter embarrassment. 
"Me and my friends are going to this club and we'd like you guys to come with us," she breathed in some of her nervousness. "If you wanna come, obviously." 
Seungcheol remained silent and turned so that he wasn't giving his back to the girl. 
"We'd love to," Changkyun replied first, making Seungcheol arch an eyebrow inquisitively. 
"Great!" the girl replied with a small jolt and turned to run towards your friend group, who watched the whole interaction from afar. "Oh, we're leaving in ten!" 
Seungcheol sent his friend a glare. 
"Wha?" Changkyun squeaked and huffed. "You need to go out more, man. Meet people, girls, dunno." 
"I don't wanna babysit." 
His friend clicked his mouth. "Ayy, you're such a prissy ass," he reprimanded. "Nobody said you'll be babysitting. Have fun for once. Real fun."  
The smell of burnt weed had started to affect him, surely, because Seungcheol only shook his head and said: "Fine. But I can't stay long, okay? I have a game tomorrow morning." 
"I have a game tomorrow morning," Changkyun parroted, doing a poor imitation of Seungcheol's tone and then huffed again before tucking the blunt on his lips one final time. "Nerd." 
"Asshole," he retorted and rolled his eyes.
Seungcheol's friend was a bit of a player, as long as he had known him, he had never settled with one partner for longer than three months. Which, to Seungcheol's point of view, was whatever.
But to his friend, Seungcheol was a total loner.
"It doesn't hurt to do something different once in a while," he encouraged with a small smile. "You're in your head way too much."
"Mm," Seungcheol nodded and made no comment about it.
The only times he has been in these kinds of situations, had been solely because of his friends. He's not one to go out clubbing, if he wants to get drunk, he does it at home, which in this case would mean, his friends' homes, not at his parents.
So as soon as he followed Changkyun, and a group of girls down the packed, steamy, grimy club, he immediately wanted to turn around and leave.
But he felt dragged by his friend, who was eyeing him warning and knowing looks, making Seungcheol feel like a dick, because he totally was already planning an excuse to go home.
And for once, Seungcheol decided to relax. He didn't have any excuses to go home, and in reality, he did need to go out more, he did need to meet people, rather than staying secluded in his own little bubble.
Changkyun immediately found a place to sit, and to manspread, Seungcheol noted silently. His friend knew what he was doing, because as soon as they found a place to watch your pretty friends reunite around a table and dance, they slowly started flocking around him.
Seungcheol snorted and rolled his eyes when a girl sat between him and his friend in the small seat. It was inevitable, Changkyun always had that quiet alluring aura about him. Whereas Seungcheol was more closed off, which, to him, was alright.
He watched under the neon lights the group of girls progressively get drunker, sloppier, happier until the night reached its high and the energy started to decline rapidly.
He stopped paying attention the minute his friend started snogging the girl that made the invitation for them to come, and feeling like he had a window of opportunity to leave, he rose from the seat and snuck out of the club.
Once outside, Seungcheol exhaled the fresh air of the night and looked up at the dark, moonless night. Torn between going back and telling his friend that he was going home or simply pulling a disappearing act and going home.
"Watch your head, oh no, careful–," he heard someone let out a silly chortle. "Oh my god, your dad is going to kill us."
Seungcheol turned and saw you trying to get one of your friends in the backseat of a car. You had your friend wrapped in one arm and managed to get the door open with the other.
"Get in there," you laughed again when your friend started to put in some resistance, not wanting to leave for home. "Oh my god, this looks so bad, Chae please get in there."
Your friend laughed with you, giving up the fight and you closed the car door, waving your friend back as the car drove away. You exhaled tiredly, and drunkenly and slowly turned.
"Oh, hi there," you gasped, a bit startled by his presence. "Did you see all that?"
Seungcheol nodded silently.
"That was my friend's dad," you put in quickly. "Please don't think that I was aiding a kidnapping."
He couldn't bring himself to reply. He obviously saw the situation as it was and didn't interpret it in a wrongful way.
But he also saw in your eyes that you were quite drunk, the rosy colored cheeks and glistening eyes. You were trying to make him laugh, and he totally didn't get it.
"Are you–," you breathed and looked nervous again. "A friend of Kyun's?"
Seungcheol didn't reply again, not as quickly as you wanted.
"One of my friends has a stupid crush on him," you explained and brushed off with a hand. "I was just wondering because... well, I've seen you around campus."
He felt an eyebrow immediately quirk up before he could control himself. "You have?"
You put your hands on your waist and staggered a little bit. Seungcheol noted that you looked tired and, probably from wearing really high heels, and being drunk didn't help much with your balance either.
"Yeah, you're part of the soccer team, right? And you... you're always at the library too," your tone faltered a little by the end of your sentence and you looked away, clearly embarrassed.
Seungcheol couldn't help but grin a little when he noticed you were flustered. "I'd never seen you around," he admitted, enjoying the blush that intensified on your face. "You've been to my games?"
"I've watched you train... once," you stuttered, raising your drunken gaze back at him.
Were you... flirting with him? Probably. Seungcheol noticed that you looked nervous right away, but you were also drunk and that made you brutally honest.
That made him smile for the first time, your big starry eyes zeroed on his lips when he did that. "And... the library?"
"I'm always there too," you mumbled, bringing a hand to brush some hairs off your face.
The cold wind ruffled his hair too, and your hands held onto the sparkly fabric of your pretty dress when it threatened to blow your skirt. You giggled in utter embarrassment but he just thought you were cute.
And apparently, from your reaction and from your drunken comments, you thought the same about him too.
Seungcheol was the cute library crush you always found caught up on schoolwork at the library desks.
At first you thought it was nice that the sportsy, popular guy would mostly be found buried in essays, but once you saw that his popularity was something he didn't even remotely desired, you found him quite alluring.
And from the moment you noticed him, you saw him everywhere around campus. At the gym, the library, the café. Being that he was of the older generations, a lot of girls found him cute too.
"I probably should go back," you slurred after a brief moment of silence and pointed a thumb back to the club's entrance.
Seungcheol thought of anything to keep you there, but at the same time, he had nothing to say yet, he was just enjoying the dazed look on your face, the pinkish cheeks and the sloppy way you licked your lips.
"Happy birthday," he muttered with an honest smile.
You stopped in your tracks, looking completely flustered, you showed him a small frown, a question written in your eyes.
"Thank you."
You smiled sheepishly and he gave you a polite nod before you went back to your friends.
But that was the moment he solidified his plan.
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The campus library was always cold. The windows were high in the ceiling, so what little sunlight they let in didn't help alleviate the morning chill either.
Seungcheol sat at one of the most secluded desks, buried in his thesis work. At the moment he was just reading and gathering sources, but he was aching to start writing it so he could just be done with getting his degree.
But it was undeniable that he was brilliant. Top of his class, excelling in his sports scholarship too. He kind of hated it too, he was eager to abandon this place once and for all.
But that morning was different. As soon as he settled in his usual spot, he kept alert to any signs of you, he wondered how you noticed him first and he never did you.
Until you came down to the library, an hour and a half later. You were unsuspecting of his watchful eye and that made him curious.
You wore a fluffy sweater and had put your hair in a ponytail, which swayed and bounced a little with your walk, which he noticed was delicate. Almost as if you didn't want to draw any attention towards you, didn't want to make a sound.
Did you know he was watching you? He couldn't tell, but honestly, he felt it was fair game now that he knew you had watched him more than once.
You sat at the far extreme, and it seemed like that was your spot too. As soon as you settled the book beside your laptop, you raised your gaze to his direction, much as if that was a bit of a habit of yours.
As soon as your gazes connected, you lowered your head, pretending to bury your nose in the book sprawled open in your desk.
Seungcheol couldn't help but stifle a smile when you noticed him and made a weak attempt to pretend you weren't looking his way. But he noticed.
The next hours went down that way, exchanging meek glaces at each other that slowly progressed to more knowing, subtle looks. But it ended too soon, when you checked your phone and realized you were late for a class, gathered your things silently, but swiftly and ran from the library.
The following morning, he decided to sit closer to your table. His usual spot was occupied that day so he saw it as an opportunity to sit on the table next to yours.
Sitting across from you, diagonally, he had a clear view from your flustered face upon entering the study section of the library and finding him closer to your spot in the tables.
But you sat in your usual seat anyway. Silently setting down your stuff, your laptop and notebooks and your obnoxious amounts of post-its and highlighters and got to work.
Ten minutes later you got up to find a book on the shelves. Seungcheol couldn't help but to steal a glance at you, but you appeared to be expecting it. Your gazes crossed again and now it was his turn to look away, completely embarrassed.
He looked down at his laptop's keyboard and pretended to type something while on the inside he was deeply and utterly flustered by you.
When you came back to your seat, Seungcheol didn't dare to look your way, not immediately, he thought it would only make his case way too obvious and scare you away.
But then, in his line of vision, he saw your pretty hand slipping a piece of paper on his table with your handwriting in it.
› hi there •ᴗ•
Seungcheol finally looked up, but you were looking down to your open book, very evidently pretending to be immersed in a page. He scrambled on his backpack for a pencil or a pen, anything, just so he could return the note to you.
› hi
He slid the piece of paper back to your table, but you made no move towards it yet, so he returned to his laptop.
Some minutes later, you slipped a new piece of paper. Now, insead of a written down note, you had drawn a three-by-three grid, a single cross on the top right corner. It was a game of tic-tac-toe.
In disbelief, he raised his eyes back to your still pretentious self and smiled. Drawing his zero on the top left corner and return the game to you.
Seungcheol suspected that you didn't want to make your game evident to respect the silence in the library and the students around you. So some thirty seconds later, you returned the piece of paper and copying you, he returned it thirty seconds later as well.
The game took about three minutes. It ended with you winning when you returned the piece of paper with your three crosses aligned and a smiley face.
› that was an easy win; you said in your pretty handwriting.
Seungcheol exhaled a smile softly.
› i let you win
› sore loser?
› or a gentleman...
You snorted quietly as soon as you read that, making Seungcheol smile embarrassedly.
› i appreciate the gesture, but i prefer fair play
His eyebrow twitched slightly.
› i won't go easy on you next round, then.
› bring it on.
You watched his hand twirl the pencil around his fingers a couple of times before writing down his response. The two of you had forgotten to stay discreet, exchanging looks as you passed each other the piece of paper.
› i will on one condition.
› which is?
› that if i win, you go out on a date with me.
› and if i win?
› you choose your prize.
You slipped a new piece of paper with a clean three-by-three grid, with your cross slotted in the middle.
And either you got sloppy or let him win because the game ended too soon with him winning. Did you want him to win? He wondered.
But soon you both hit it off effortlessly. Seungcheol would soon learn that you were kindhearted, sweet and really smart. One of the reasons why you were always at the library was to keep yourself top of the class, too.
He discovered that one of your aspirations was to dedicate your life to your studies, writing, researching and unraveling the mysteries of past lives, authors and their intentions. And he thought it was great that you were determined in your career.
After a number of dates of just you two going out to grab lunch after course hours, Seungcheol made up his mind. And that was that he really liked you, and wanted something more serious.
"Careful with that," one of his friends warned one night.
It was a big university, but word got around fast that the very popular Seungcheol had his eye set on you.
"Why?" he asked slowly.
"She's kind of royalty," his friend explained, which Seungcheol only replied by pushing his eyebrows up. "I mean, look her family name up, you'll see."
Reluctantly, Seungcheol did what his friend said with a snort. Only to find that indeed, your family was kind of royalty in the city.
Owners of one of the biggest enterprises in the country, your parents appeared to be two powerful entrepreneurs with a significant influence in the country.
There were a bunch of photos of them and you posing by their side, hiding your face from the cameras. Cold, distant to you, but oddly enough dubbed by the media as philanthropists.
And before Seungcheol scrolled for more, he stopped himself.
"I don't see why this should mean anything," Seungcheol finalized, rising from the bench inside the locker rooms.
And it didn't. Not at first, at least.
One night, after much preamble of sweet glances and shy touches, Seungcheol offered you a ride home.
As you slid on the passenger seat in his brother's car, you suddenly felt a very unfamiliar heat warm up your body. You hadn't been this close to Seungcheol in private. So far, your interactions had been kept public, and you hadn't so much as touched his shoulder.
So now that you were beside him, you took a moment to calm yourself. But your anxiety was almost palpable, you became quiet, and tried to avert your gaze from him as best as you could.
But it didn't help that Seungcheol was wearing a navy polo shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. And god, he was wearing those jeans today too. His meaty thighs stretched the blue and thick fabric.
Seungcheol noticed your wandering gaze, but made no comment about it.
"Um, pull over here," you signaled him nervously.
"Do you live here?" he asked as he pulled over and leaned over his seat to look up at the tall building at the center of the city.
"Yeah, wi-with my parents," you put in nervously and fidgeted for the door handle and pulled it, opening the door to scramble out of the car.
Seungcheol tilted his head inquisitively and got out of the car as well, following you to the sidewalk. It was already dark outside, so he wondered if your parents gave you some kind of curfew.
"Hold on," he said, stopping you before you could run off to the interior of the building.
"Sorry, I just–," you breathed out nervously and mustered up some courage to look up at his big puppy eyes. "I've never, ever, done this before."
"Done what?" Seungcheol asked slowly, feeling a small smile creeping on his face.
"This, d-dates, dating," you stuttered a bit, which caused you to smile shyly. "I might have some moments of boldness around you but—I really like you, Seungcheol."
Seungcheol looked at you, the sweet girl that hadn't left his mind since that moment he met you, the pretty girl he already had concocted plans to win over, you were toying with the dainty necklace with your fingers anxiously and smiled.
"Call me Cheol," he corrected softly, offering a sliver of familiarity before he added. "I like you too. A lot."
You blinked at him, your fingers stopped fidgeting and your mouth parted a little. "Cheol," you nodded, smiling at him shyly.
"We can take it slow," he offered and pressed his lips into a smile.
His dimples showed on his cheeks and your heart twisted, making your breath hitch ever so slightly.
"But... that's the thing," you crossed your arms over your chest now, and he guessed it was to keep yourself from fidgeting any more. "I don't want to... take it slow."
Seungcheol arched an eyebrow. "Please elaborate," he mumbled with a goofy chuckle.
"I mean, we've gone out five times already and you haven't even kissed me," you babbled and he could see that you were beginning to be flustered.
Seungcheol pondered for a second. Why hasn't he kissed you yet? Well, it wasn't his indecision, really. He would've done it the first time you both went out together. But the truth was, he wanted to do things right with you.
"I didn't want you to think that I'm going too fast," he mumbled hesitantly, bringing a hand up to scratch a fake itch on his nape.
"Oh," you uttered and frowned. "In that case..." you trailed off, unable to find what words to say.
Your previous words you said hung in his mind, giving out the reason why you were almost jittery whenever he even so much dared to press the palm of his hand between your shoulder blades.
You've never had a boyfriend before. Not by choice, you've had a few crushes before, but nothing that ever went farther than just simple, innocent kisses.
But Seungcheol had awakened something in you. Something so unfamiliar that unnerved you to your bones. It was a warmth that made you feel hot under your clothes, it made your blood rush to your cheeks and twist your heart.
"Come here," Seungcheol said, opening his strong arms and pulling you in a comforting hug.
It wasn't a friendly hug, the purpose of it was to try and calm down your anxieties, to make you realize that he wanted to be more serious with you.
You stiffened under his embrace at first, but quickly wrapped your arms around his torso and rested your head on his shoulder, breathing in his manly scent, the cologne in his clothes.
The warmth feeling invaded you again when you felt his heartbeat against your own chest, when he appeared to be pressing his lips slowly on the crown of your head. Oh my god, you thought over and over.
When you felt like the hug had went over for minutes, you peeled off his body slowly and reluctantly, but suddenly stopped short
"Oh–," you gasped.
"What–," he muttered and looked down.
Your gold necklace had tangled in one of the buttons of his polo shirt, making you giggle shyly and brought a hand up to attempt to untangle the mess.
Seungcheol seized your hand, your eyes snapping to his nervously as his other hand came to cup your chin gingerly. Your eyes read his face, widening slightly when you saw it in his gaze—he wanted to kiss you.
His half-lidded puppy eyes swam over the features of your face, on your eyes, your lips and then back up. And you wondered what the look on your face might have been, because it made him smile softly.
You, in turn, looked flustered. And Seungcheol knew that you wanted this because your lips had parted in desire, your breath hitched at his touch. And your eyes, so telling of your own intentions.
Slowly, Seungcheol dipped his head to meet your lips with his own, keeping his hand on your chin to keep you in place. You swallowed hard the second you felt his wet lips on yours, pressing tenderly once, twice, until they locked slowly, moving against each other seamlessly.
Your eyes had fluttered close, as you let the man you've been crushing for months dominate the kiss, and that he did gingerly, almost lovingly. The hand that had seized yours slowly pressed his palm against your own, and you took the liberty to lace your fingers with his.
When the kiss ended he parted to look at your pretty eyes, moving the hand from your chin to brush the softness of your cheek and you leaned in to his touch, almost instinctively.
"Seungcheol," you muttered then, "Cheol, I have something to tell you."
You pressed your hand against the one that was cupping your cheek. And Seungcheol pushed his eyebrows up slightly, encouraging you to speak.
"I don't know how much you know about me, about my family, but it has scared some people off my life before and... I don't want that to be you," you muttered with a tinge of nervousness quivering your tone.
"I'm not going anywhere," he reassured, leaning to press a kiss to your forehead. "Don't think that for a second."
That was the start to your relationship with Choi Seungcheol.
And for all his plans of taking it slow, you both sure flew into first, second, third base pretty fast. Seungcheol was careful with you every step of the way, but sometimes he found you so hard to resist.
And it didn't help that your sex drive was just as high as his, or even higher.
The making out session had started innocently. Seungcheol had driven almost aimlessly out of the city until he found a perfect spot to park in a secluded area.
By this point, you were a month into dating. So you were pretty much still new to all things relating to intimacy. But at the same time, you were so eager for more. To go past brief touches and short make out sessions.
But there was something different about you tonight. Maybe it was that you were far from the city and the car was practically hidden from view and upcoming cars, deep into some trail in the woods.
Maybe it was that you thought he looked extra hot that night. Wearing a tight black long sleeve t-shirt. But you found Seungcheol hot, no matter what he did or wore.
You were pressed against the steering wheel of the car, straddling him in a very lewd manner. You've never gone this far, but it was exciting, it was taunting.
"Baby," he muttered against your lips, one of his hands was cupping your face while the other was kneading anxiously at the curve of your waist.
"Mm?" you hummed softly in his mouth, not wanting to pull away, you felt as though you were unable to.
"Is this okay?" he asked with a strangled tone. It had been some minutes since either of you had spoken. He cleared his throat and added: "We're not going too far?"
You had never gotten this close to anyone before. Your heart was beating so hard against your chest that you could feel your pulse at your throat.
"This is okay," you breathed, capturing his lower lip between yours and he groaned. "I want this."
"Want what?" he moved a hand from the side of your face to your lower back, eliciting a small moan from you. "Fuck," he breathed when he heard you.
"I want you," you whispered, pressing your lips on his jawline, then down his neck, daring to lick his skin.
His fingers clenched on your flesh, over your clothes and hissed loudly. "Baby, don't do that," he groaned.
"Don't like it?" you asked and finally peeled off him.
The look on your face was something Seungcheol couldn't get enough of. You looked flustered, hot and horny. Your lips were swollen from all the kissing, and the steamy conditions from the inside of the car made your skin dewy, making your hair stick to your neck.
"I do, I like it," he chuckled, feeling embarrassed. "I like it too much."
Your features took on a bolder look. "How much?" you asked with a playful tone, smiling a bit.
Seungcheol rolled his eyes at your playful question, feeling like he might explode soon.
But he only took your hand and guided it to the huge bulge pressing against his jeans, wordlessly telling you just how much he was driven insane by you.
It was a bold move, he knew it. Your eyes widened and a shudder invaded you, along with that warmth that begged you to move farther, to get more from this interaction.
You swallowed thickly. "You're..." you trailed off.
Seungcheol mimicked you and swallowed hard too. He removed your hand from his hard crotch and kissed your knuckles.
"Do you want to... do something about it?" you asked shyly and smiled to yourself.
"Like what?" he asked, now being playful with you.
"Do you want me to touch you?" you asked with a tiny voice, your shifty eyes averting from his.
"No," he replied, drawing your eyes back at him with a question written in them. "I don't want you to do that now, baby."
"Doesn't it... hurt?" you asked meekly and turned your gaze yet again from him.
Seungcheol smiled. "Not right now, but it will later," he replied simply, shrugging as if this wasn't the first time he's gotten blue-balled by you.
"Why does it sound like it's normal for you?" you caught right on, an eyebrow jumping up.
He pinched your chin with his index and thumb. "You drive me crazy, baby. You always leave me a little needy," he explained, but then realizing how he sounded, he added: "But it's okay, I'm not pressuring you to do anything you don't want to do."
"But I want to, Cheol," you repositioned yourself on his lap, scooting your crotch closer to his.
That made his hands snap to your hips, just when he felt a little bit of friction on his hard and clothed cock.
He stifled a moan. "What do you want, baby?"
You swore you went a little crazy every time he called you that. You bit your lip, looking at his big and dark eyes.
His hand cupped your chin again, motioning you closer so that he could kiss you on your lips.
"Mm? What do you want?" he egged you on, his voice low and pouring into your ears.
"Take me," you whispered between kisses.
A groan bubbled in his chest and deepened the kiss by swiping a line with the tip of his tongue on your lower lip. You moaned softly in his mouth too, and the sound might have sent him into a frenzy too.
"No," he groaned with a low guttural tone.
"Please?" you asked before he could even explain himself.
"Not here, baby," he started and pressed his body back on his seat, thus parting away from your lips. "You're not having your first time in my brother's car."
You blinked, looking a bit startled and searched his eyes.
"Don't you want to have your first time in a bed?" he asked, his eyebrows knitting at his question.
That seemed to cool you down from your frenzy moment and appeared to be considering it.
You nodded quietly. "With you," you replied with a certain tone of plea.
He blinked slowly, realizing that you had thought he was rejecting your advances. "Of course, baby," he replied with a warm smile.
You pressed your lips in a cute pout, and then you hit him with puppy eyes. "Can we... continue where we left off?"
"What do you want?" he asked again, his hands parked on your hips.
You fidgeted with the collar of his black t-shirt, shyly glancing at his eyes, then back to your hands. "Can you touch me?"
Seungcheol pressed his hands on the curve of your waist and nodded. "Where, baby?"
Your breath hitched audibly but neither of you made note about it. Borrowing a page from his book, you took his hands from your waist, and guided them to your breasts, indicating where you wanted his hands.
Your blood rushed to your face in utter embarrassment from how wet you felt already, your panties were pooling with your arousal and the second you motioned his hands on your breasts, over your clothes, you swallowed back a moan.
Seungcheol applied pressure to your tits, kneading at them softly, over the fabric of your blouse and bra. You knew that wasn't enough, you needed to feel him directly.
You dropped your forehead on his and breathed out your nervousness. "God, I'm so wet," you whispered and let out an embarrassed laugh.
Seungcheol groaned louder this time and closed his eyes fiercely. His hands flew from your tits and pressed you down on his cock by your hips.
"Fuck," he breathed, anxiously tightening his grip on your sides. "Can I feel you?"
You nodded desperately. "Yes, please?" you sighed a moan.
His hand sneaked beneath your skirt, realizing that you might've come prepared for this because you were also wearing a lace thong, as soon he would discover when the pads of his fingers grazed your clothed pussy.
"Baby," he called, making you pull back and lock eyes with him. "You can stop me if you feel uncomfortable, okay?"
You nodded and bit your lip in anticipation, looking down where his hand had disappeared beneath your skirt.
But a hand grabbed your chin gently to lift your gaze back at his. "I need to hear it."
"Okay," you replied.
He then searched for the hem of your thong and moved it aside to uncover your cunt to his fingers, where he ran the pads of his fingers, shuddering slightly when he felt the softness covered with your arousal.
"So wet," he whispered and swallowed back a groan. "You're dripping, baby."
You nodded and bit back a moan when his fingers exploring your cunt found your clit almost effortlessly.
"There?" he asked and you nodded. "Tell me how you're feeling."
"Good," you breathed immediately when the pads of his middle fingers rubbed your clit back and forth, pressing on the nub just the right amount to make you moan.
"You sound so sweet," he mumbled almost entrancingly, enjoying the look on your face when your eyelids fluttered shut and your lips parted a little, allowing a sigh to escape between them.
Your hands slid from his shoulders down to his chest and you leaned back on the steering wheel to give him ample space to continue pleasuring you.
Seungcheol put his free hand to use by hiking your skirt up, uncovering your lush thighs to his view. Under the weak moonlight, he could also see your pretty cunt, and he pushed your panties aside further so he could see just how wet you were.
"God, baby," he looked up, his darkened eyes finding yours. "You're perfect."
You were still biting your lip, unable to make a coherent response because his touch was nearly driving you crazy.
Seungcheol threw you a cautious glance, before dipping one finger inside your entrance, his mouth parted at the same time yours did.
"Cheol," you mewled when his finger slid in completely exploring your warm and wet walls.
"Is that okay?" he asked, dragging his finger out to then push it back in.
You nodded and then replied. "Yeah, okay," you babbled.
"More?" he asked, but it sounded like he was testing you.
"Yes, yes more, please," you whimpered desperately trying to get more so you could finally get the pleasure you seeked.
Seungcheol pushed another digit in, feeling your walls contract and that made him gasp. But wasted no time and started exploring your gummy walls, every ridge, every slippery fold.
You held onto one of his buff biceps, your fingers digging on his muscle quite harshly but not enough to hurt him.
"Relax, baby," he whispered. But there was no denying that he was loving every second of you getting off by just a couple of fingers. And not only that, him being the first to be doing this was also giving him a rush.
"It feels good," you gasped and looked at his eyes.
"Yeah? Do you like it if I do this?" he asked before curling his fingers inside you, the pointy tips of his fingers pressing on your walls in a very sensitive spot.
"God! Yes, that feels good," you gasped, your hips buckled on top of him just as he started to move his hand repeatedly, teasing that glorious spot inside you.
"Like that?" he asked with a strangled tone, feeling like he might come in his pants from just seeing you and feeling you with his fingers.
"Yes, yes, yes," you whimpered. "Don't stop—please? Please, Cheol, it feels so good."
Seungcheol felt the corner of his mouth twitch up in a smirk. "I'm not stopping, baby," he replied.
Your breath had started to hitch and the hand holding onto his bicep clenched hard and then went lax. You were close, but it was quite difficult to get to your much desperately needed release.
"Do you want to rub your clit?" Seungcheol asked when he noticed and you nodded. "Show me how you do it, baby," he instructed, not stopping his hand on your cunt, but only moving it to give more access to your fingers.
You lifted your hips a little, giving him the full view to your cunt as you reached your clit with your fingers and started rubbing. You mewled instantly at the motion of both your fingers and his inside you, making you cry out in pleasure.
"Are you close, angel?" he asked, when he saw the features of your face relax, moaning sweetly and looking almost angelical.
"Yeah," you gasped, a rush of bliss taking over you when he used that new nickname on you. "Mm so close," you moaned.
"God, you look so good like this," he whispered in complete awe.
"Cheol," you mewled. "I'm there, god, g–ah," your eyebrows knitted and your mouth opened, breathing in sharply as you came hard on his fingers, the orgasm was nearly mind-numbing, not only from how good it felt, but from how long you had been aching for this.
"So good, so good," you whimpered over and over as you came, eyes closed, enjoying every second of it.
Seungcheol also enjoyed the look on your face, the sounds you made, how tightly you squeezed his fingers with your warm walls.
By the end of your orgasm, you were panting, thighs trembling a little, and you leaned forward a little to get some support. Seungcheol used his free hand to cup your cheek, motioning you over to his lips.
You kissed him softly, still breathing erratically.
"You did so good, baby," he whispered on your lips. "Are you okay?"
"I'm okay," you frowned. "Perfect, actually."
Seungcheol laughed and pressed his lips on your forehead.
You shuddered slightly when he pulled out his fingers from your walls and brought his hand up to his mouth to lick your arousal from his fingers, looking at your eyes as he got his first taste of you.
"Seu—Cheol? What are you doing?" you sounded alarmed as you watched him groan in approval and as if he were testing you, he pulled you for a kiss.
You tasted yourself in his tongue, the act so lewd that it had you whimpering again.
"You're so perfect baby," he muttered with a low tone.
He fixed your panties back in place and then your skirt, his fascinated eyes reveling at the sight of you on top of him.
You looked around for the first time in what seemed like hours, and realized that the windows had become obscured with a light layer of condensation.
The sight made you smile a little—it seemed just like in movies. And you were so, so in love with Seungcheol. It seemed fast, but you were also young and so willing to discover things about yourself at his side that time seemed to be unimportant to you.
You brought up a finger and started scribbling on the window of the car.
"I love you," your little message read.
Seungcheol felt something so strong in his chest that it almost robbed him of air. You shyly looked back at him, expecting a response, reading his face for any signs of rejection.
"I love you too," he answered vocally, cupping your face with his hands to kiss you passionately.
Some weeks later, after more taunting each other with heavy make out sessions. You found yourself pressed against the mattress of his twin bed. Nearly naked, only your matching bra and thong were covering your body.
Seungcheol had wished for an opportunity like this. Somehow he was struck by a miracle when his parents told him they would be out of town, so he knew that was his chance to prompt this proposition to you.
Which, of course, you agreed to.
Seungcheol was bare from the waist up, his body hovering on top of you as he slowly worshiped your body, both with kisses and with his sweet words.
You were nervous, utterly embarrassed as you pressed your thighs together, your breathing had turned erratic, pathetically loud to your ears as you watched your boyfriend kneel on the bed before your body.
"Spread your legs for me, baby," he instructed with a soft tone, running a hand on your knee, caressing your bare skin.
You pushed your knees up and parted your thighs slowly for him to slot his body between them. And before he could press his chest to yours, you snaked a hand beneath you to unclasp your bra and removed the straps swiftly.
"Slow down," he chuckled and leaned down to press his lips against yours. "We have time, don't worry."
"I'm nervous," you admitted with a sigh.
"I know," he replied and smiled sweetly at you. "I'm nervous too," he confessed but he didn't look nearly as nervous as you.
Though he was.
"But you've done this before," you countered, blinking at him confusedly.
"It's the first time I do it with you, angel," he replied, pressing his lips on your face, then littering your throat with more kisses.
"I want you to like it," you muttered with a tiny voice.
"Why wouldn't I?" he asked, breaking away from your neck to look at your eyes. "Baby, I'm going to like it no matter what. Relax, I got you."
Seungcheol waited until you gave him a nod with your head and continued loving your skin with his lips. You tried to ease your head into his pillows and you tried to do the same with your limbs, relaxing into the duvet of his twin bed, which you noticed, smelled like his clothes usually do.
"Don't worry about me," he muttered into your ear, making you shudder slightly. "I want you to focus on what you're feeling. Tell me what you like and what you don't, okay?"
"Okay," you whispered.
"You can close your eyes if you want to," he offered before pressing his lips on your cheek.
You decided to keep looking at Seungcheol as he moved your bra aside with delicate fingers, uncovering your breasts to his eyes and he let out a soft sigh that landed on your skin, making it prickle.
You suppressed a sigh, your hands instantly reaching out to hold onto his shoulders and neck when he pressed his lips against your chest, just above your heart, smirking to himself when he heard you swallow back a whimper.
You flinched quite dramatically when his mouth reached down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, loving the taste of your skin, the smell of your perfume with a pleased groan.
Your hand traveled up from his neck and toyed anxiously at the short hair on the back of his head as he moved to kiss and lick your other nipple.
"Baby," he reminded you gently.
"Good," you croaked. "That feels good."
"Do you want to undress me?" he asked, pulling back to his knees on his bed.
You nodded and sat up, getting his belt and undoing the button and zipper of his jeans. He stood up from the bed and you sloppily undressed him, chuckling embarrassedly at yourself throughout the process.
You looked up at the growing bulge beneath his black boxers and instinctively reached for the elastic band and pulled the last piece of clothing on his body.
You bit your lip harder than before when you saw your boyfriend wholly naked and standing in front of you. He was fully hard for you already, the pinkish red tip of his cock was glistening with precum at his slit.
All the times you imagined him naked weren't compared to the real beauty Seungcheol was. Your eyes roamed from his broad shoulders, his lean chest, to the soft hairs trailing down from his belly button and joining his pubic hair.
Seungcheol was big, but you had figured that out already. But seeing him fully bare was something else. He enjoyed the look in your eyes when you couldn't help but to reach out and touch his milky white skin.
The muscles of his abdomen tightened slightly when you ran your fingertips over the soft lines marking it and down his meaty thighs. Darting a look up at him, you trailed a fingertip down the shaft of his cock, his breath hitching slightly at the feeling. You gingerly ran the pad of your finger over the soft ridges below his cockhead and swallowed thickly.
Seungcheol moved decisively towards you, pressing a knee on the bed then the other, making you crawl backwards on the bed and lie back down on his pillows.
His fingers hooked on the band of your lace thong you bought solely for the occasion and slid them down your legs slowly and you lifted your feet from the mattress for him to get rid of the thong and finally have you completely bare and exposed to him.
"You're so, so beautiful, baby," he said with a sigh, his big expressive eyes marveling at your figure on his bed.
"Thank you, Cheol," you whispered bashfully.
You averted your gaze when he dipped his head and started grazing kisses along your tummy and tried to focus on the sensations, your skin prickling, heating up, the arousal shooting like a bolt of lightning inside you with each kiss.
The blinds on Seungcheol's room were slightly parted, blowing in with the wind that filtered through the open window. It was a quiet, windy night, and the soft glow of the moonlight gave you the opportunity to explore his bedroom with your eyes.
Until his lips reached below your belly button, making you jolt slightly under him.
"Your skin smells so sweet," he pointed with a low hum and raised his head to show you a smile. "Did you do that on purpose?"
You nodded. "It's raspberry lotion," you explained meekly.
Seungcheol smiled, circling a hand on your hip and slid down your skin and pressed his lips on the inner side of your thigh, making you jump slightly again.
"Easy," he breathed, littering your skin with more kisses as if wanting you to get accustomed to the feeling.
"That feels good," you slurred, closing your eyes when a shudder ran from your legs to your face.
Then he pressed his tongue on your inner thigh, really close to your pussy.
"God," you gasped, opening your eyes wide and propped your weight on your elbows.
"Tell me if it's too much," he mumbled, trailing more open mouthed kisses until his lips reached your mound.
Your breath hitched and nodded. "Okay," you whispered, reaching out to graze his scalp with the pads of your fingers, eliciting a low groan from the man who was between your legs, the first person to ever be this intimate with you.
"Oh my god," you breathed when he gently and so, so slowly pushed his tongue between your pussy lips, parting your slippery folds with a generous stroke with his tongue.
His hands came to angle your thighs open for him when your first instinct was to try and close them. He pressed his mouth to your cunt, licking your arousal from your entrance with a groan that you felt on your soft flesh.
"Cheol, babe," you gasped, watching him ravage your cunt slowly, making the most loud wet sounds when his pointed tongue glided between your folds and swirled around your clit.
"Babe, don't stop," you whimpered, your hips buckling against his face when his tongue started flicking your swollen bud. He blinked and raised his eyes to find yours.
And he didn't stop, not to speak, not to rest and even though his mouth was starting to feel tired, he was determined to make you come first like this.
"God—Cheol," you mewled, feeling a tingling wave rushing through your body, intensifying by the second. "Babe, I'm there, 'm–"
You sucked in a sharp breath, shuddering violently on his bed as your orgasm flooded your body in hot waves. Overwhelming sensations invaded you as you cried out, your voice sounding raw and lewd. You felt it everywhere, not just between your thighs.
He pressed his lips on your clit and on your mound as he removed his hands from your thighs, using them to support his body by placing them at your sides.
"Good?" he muttered as he lowered the lower half of his body between your legs, without pressing his full weight on you.
His lips looked slick and swollen, and when you reached out to capture them with yours, you tasted your arousal on his tongue, making you moan at how lewd the act felt.
"Great," you breathed.
Your eyes had a post-sex glaze look on them, still breathing heavy, you looked heavenly this way. And Seungcheol loved that he was the reason why you looked like that.
"God, you're so beautiful, baby," he whispered, pressing his lips on yours between each word.
"Cheol?" you whispered, dragging his gaze back to yours.
"Mm?"
"I want you now," you mumbled with a sweet tone.
Seungcheol read your eyes briefly, looking for any signs of uncertainty, before he leaned his weight on one forearm at your side, his free hand grabbed his fully hard cock and guided it to your core.
You sucked in a breath again, when Seungcheol glided his cockhead down your wet folds with a low groan before nuzzling at your entrance.
Then he slowly eased himself into you, the fiery discomfort at your entrance was immediate, making your muscles contract and the scrunch on your face made him pause.
"Talk to me baby," he instructed softly.
"I'm okay," you breathed. "Keep going, please, Cheol."
He mouthed a 'okay' and pushed inside you slowly, his hand came up to cup your cheek to hold your gaze, your eyebrows knitted and your mouth parted, and he felt himself mimic your expression as he sheathed himself completely inside your warm, fluttery walls.
Seungcheol watched your beautiful features as he dragged his cock out and pushed in again, slowly, making your walls ease around him, adjusting to his size, letting him fuck you slowly.
Small moans spilled from your lips as the discomfort dissipated and soon turned into a warm, sweet pleasure, making your eyes flutter close and sigh blissfully.
Each drag of his cock in and out of you felt deliriously good. Seungcheol was slowly driving himself mad with your moans, with the feeling of your warm throbbing walls around him, taking him so good he was sure that you were made for him only.
It also made him a little crazy to think that it was your first time feeling something like this, to have him claiming you before anyone else. He shuddered and dropped his head on the crook of your neck, failing to control himself.
"I need to put a condom on, baby," he groaned against you, lifting his head to look at you.
"No, please. Just a little bit longer?" you immediately whined.
"I might not last long," he admitted shyly. "You feel so fucking good."
"You-you feel good too," you blurted.
Your arms were encircling him by his shoulders, your wrists locked behind his nape. You hummed a sigh when his hips pressed against you, driving his cockhead into a spot that felt just too good. Your walls clenched and he immediately pulled out with a low groan.
"I'm putting it on," he murmured, kissing you chastely before pulling his body up and reaching for a condom on his nightstand. He opened it with his experienced fingers and slid the condom down to his hilt.
Seungcheol slid inside you again, the contact of the latex inside you created a noise when he started delivering precise thrusts against you again. Undeniable, it felt different with protection, but it still felt good.
So good in fact that when his thrusts picked up pace, you moaned against the crook of his neck, the feeling of being so close, open and vulnerable with him so intense that you were sure you were losing what little sanity you had left.
"I love you," you breathed against his lips.
Seungcheol stifled a moan and his hand cupped your cheek again. "I love you too baby," he responded, lips grazing against yours.
He came not a second after you with soft moans and calling your name as he pressed his hips sloppily against you until he was rendered breathless on top of you, head resting on your shoulder as he blinked back to reality.
Seungcheol was in love.
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Time flew by and soon it was your first anniversary with him. Still in love, still making puppy eyes at each other. Your relationship moved almost seamlessly without any issues.
You both loved spending time together, whether it was going out together or just chilling at home. Seungcheol had moved out of his parents house and started renting a small one bedroom apartment. Freshly graduated, he wasted no time and started working, which was something he was aching to do.
There were little disagreements, but you always found a way to talk and work things out. It was like you were a team, facing every single challenge together.
On your anniversary, Seungcheol prepared a dinner to celebrate the year you had spent together. He placed candles on the table and seemed nervous before he led you inside his tiny apartment, covering your eyes with his hands, chuckling all the way as you stretched your arms out in case you stumbled and fell.
"Ready?" he mumbled in your ear.
"Ready," you replied and he uncovered your eyes.
There was a flower bouquet on a vase sitting on top of the table, which you noticed were your favorite flowers.
"This is beautiful, Cheol," you started and turned around to face him.
Only to find him on one knee, a small blue velvet box in his hand. The glint in his puppy eyes as he looked up at you with such adoring eyes as your heart clenched.
"No, stop!" you whined. "You're joking," you laughed as your eyes brimmed with tears that spilled onto your cheeks when he laughed with you when you told on his prank.
He opened the box, revealing his gift to you, which was a pretty dainty gold necklace with a heart locket.
"Happy anniversary," he said with his goofy laugh and rose just as you cupped his cheeks to kiss him lovingly.
The laughter and the sparkle in your eyes made it an unforgettable night for him.
A memory he would cherish for a long time.
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second year
It was your twenty second birthday.
And soon it will be your second anniversary with Seungcheol. And it seemed hard to believe how fast time had passed you by, and how fast Seungcheol became the center of your whole world.
He was your partner through a world of self-discovery. Did you want to try new kinks? He was all in. Did you want to try weed or shrooms for the first time? He'd take care of you—or do it together in a safe space.
You had so much fun together that he wasn't only the love of your life, he was your best friend. And you were still so in love with him, it seemed like a dream, almost.
As the second anniversary rolled around, Seungcheol made it a little tradition to get on one knee to present you with jewelry. The second time he did it, your heart jumped again but you knew what his plan was, which was to get that joyful look on your face.
This time, you knew that if he presented you with a ring, you would've said yes.
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third year
Choi Seungcheol is a strategist to his core.
At least, that's what a lot of people say about him. He doesn't like to think too much of himself, but sometimes, when he pays attention to what the people around him say, they say things akin to him being thoughtful, always scheming, always analyzing.
Seungcheol was a hundred percent sure about you. From the first anniversary together, he started planning the day he would get down on one knee and ask you to marry him seriously.
At this point you had been together for three years, and not one single day he doubted himself with you. There were some setbacks, money being one of them, but he could manage. The only problem was dealing with your overbearing parents.
Steal princess from the castle, that was the name of his little plan.
In fact, as your twenty fourth birthday drew near, he thought of the way he would carry out this plan. One day, when you were away with your parents' for a whole weekend, he knew this was his chance.
He pressed the phone to his ear and waited for the line to be picked up. Chewing on his lower lip, sitting on his sofa with one leg crossed.
"Hi mom," he smiled when he heard his mother's voice greet him. Then he started picking on the hem of his clothes with his free hand as he said. "I need your help with something."
"Are you alright, baby?" his mother queried immediately.
Seungcheol noticed how nervous he sounded, added to his sudden ask for help and put in quickly. "Oh! Yes, yes, yes, I'm fine mom. Don't worry," he chuckled awkwardly. "I was thinking of picking you up later this evening for coffee and... I want you to help me choose a ring."
Silently, Seungcheol looked at the ceiling.
"An engagement ring?" his mother asked, a tinge of emotion twisting her words.
"Yes, mom," he breathed in. "I'm proposing," he nodded and gulped hard, trying to swallow down the emotions that coiled in his throat.
His mother didn't need to ask if he was sure, or if it was too soon. Because everyone knew how much he loved you.
Everyone knew you were end game.
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fourth year
Every relationship has its ups and downs. But everything with Seungcheol seemed to be so good that it made you think that saying was just a fabricated thing to persuade people to stay in their relationships.
That was until you got in for a master's degree in a prestigious university abroad. It was a really big thing for you, a dream come true, really. But sadly you didn't get the necessary support to accept the offer.
Of course you wouldn't get the funding. Your family name was related to wealth, so why should anyone give you the funding when you could afford it yourself?
However, your parents stepped in, offering their help to you under one condition. Their condition was that you had to break up your relationship with Seungcheol, and once you finished your master's degree you'd have to marry someone they approve of. They'd cover all the expenses, the tuition, everything.
You just had to break up with your boyfriend. Marry someone worthy of you. They said,
You declined.
"What happened, baby?" Seungcheol had spent the past hour holding you as you cried and sobbed uncontrollably in his shoulder.
You had tried to tell him what had happened, but every time you opened your mouth a sob would have you breaking down in tears all over again.
"Baby, you're scaring me," he warned for the nth time, but he waited patiently for you, he rocked your body in his arm gently and kneaded your back with his hands attempting to soothe you.
The two of you were standing on the sidewalk outside the building where you lived with your family. Seungcheol had waited so long for you to speak that he was now leaning against his old car.
When he saw your figure hurriedly come out of the building, he supposed that you probably were running to him thinking you were late; however as soon as he saw your crushed face he immediately got out of his car to hold you, knowing that you were about to break down in tears.
He initially assumed the worst, his mind went to any possible scenario that could have you in such a state, and he voiced his concerns while rubbing your back.
"Has someone passed away? Is someone sick?"
Or perhaps,
"You've been cut off again?"
Maybe, maybe,
"Are you pregnant, baby? Is that it?"
The last two were issues he knew he could help you figure out.
He'd done it before, once your mom got sick of threatening you with cutting you off the will and allowances, she kicked you out of her house. Seungcheol would let you crash in his apartment, whenever you needed it. And he'd secretly wanted you to move in.
And if in one in a million chance he got you pregnant, well... He was all in with you. Whatever you decided, he was all in.
"I g-got accepted," you sobbed, but most of your words got muffled in the crook of his neck.
"What was that?" he asked softly and you sensed him lowering his face to look at your head in his shoulder.
"I got accepted," you told him more clearly, swallowing your sobs.
"Baby, that's great. That's your top choice, right?," his soft voice was a bit closer now. "Why are you crying?"
Seungcheol was well aware of all the post-graduate applications you did the previous year, and you had some letters of acceptance but you were waiting for the letter of acceptance and it had finally arrived.
He didn't really care if you went to another country; he wanted you to fulfill your dreams. He could wait for you, that was the initial plan, to wait for you while you achieved your milestone abroad.
"I didn't get the funding," you replied. "I didn't get it for any of the applications."
Oh. Seungcheol knew that you needed the funding, otherwise you were pretty much at a loss. Even though you had many other options, it would be really hard for you if you wanted to break away from your family's nasty hooks once and for all.
"And my mom told me they can give me all the funding, everything," you continued, now speaking fast as if you wanted to get the words out before breaking in tears again. "But they'll do it only if I break up with you and marry someone else when I get the degree. They weren't even pleased that I got accepted, it's like they were planning this."
Seungcheol just listened, but he couldn't help but feel a mixture of rage and anguish at what he was witnessing. How could they do that to you? You were their daughter, why would they try to sabotage you at any chance they had?
He knew your parents didn't hate him. Hate was earned. He just wasn't what they thought was 'good enough' for you. They were just waiting for what they called your 'little fling' to end, hoping that you would move on to what they considered a more serious relationship with someone they thought was more 'suitable'.
And by that they meant, filthy rich.
Granted, Seungcheol didn't make one small fraction of the money your parents made, probably never will. But he took care of you, he loved you. Wasn't that enough?
But he couldn't give you what your parents were offering. He knew that. He wasn't ready for that.
"You should accept," he said suddenly, he even felt like he was betraying himself.
You stiffened, finally looking up from his shoulder. "W-what?" you sniffed. "Cheol, are you listening? We'd have to split-"
"Not really," he muttered, seeing you so broken made him want to cry too. "We can still be together. Your parents don't have to know."
You smiled bitterly through your tears. "I'd be married off to someone else, and then what? They told me they already talked with some other family. They can arrange a marriage 'cause they're crazy like that."
Seungcheol knew just how crazy your family was. They were the kind of family that would whip out a binding contract on you if you agreed to marry someone else. They made the kind of money to hire a PI to follow you around because they didn't actually know who their daughter was.
Your parents didn't like what they found, obviously. And they could pretty much pinpoint the exact moment in your life when you started to feel more free. Such things they mostly thought were 'acts of rebellion'. And Seungcheol was your partner in crime.
He nodded and looked heavenward. "I can't give you what they can. I just don't make the money."
"I'm not saying that, babe. Besides, I already declined my mom's offer," you mumbled through your tears and whiny sobs. "I'm not breaking up with you."
"So you're not following your dream because of how I'd feel?" he looked at you again. "Baby, this is not what I want for you. You know that."
Studying abroad has been your dream since you could remember. You made it your whole life besides being with Seungcheol, if there was anything you could ever do for your whole life, it'd be reading, writing. You were always buried in books.
He cupped your flushed face in his hands. "This is your future. This is yours long before I was. I can't be the reason why you don't follow through. I just can't."
Your eyes met his and knew he was being dead serious.
"I won't break up with you. That's my final decision."
He sighed, but not out of relief. He hated arguing with you. Having arguments with you happened rarely, but you were just as stubborn as he was—perhaps even more so, and often pushed arguments for hours until he was the one who eventually gave in.
"Can we at least consider what I'm saying?" he proposed in a gentle tone, trying to convince you.
"I'm not keeping us a secret either!" you countered. "That's crazy, Seungcheol. Are you serious?!"
He visibly flinched when he heard you call him by his full name. "It's not crazy, it's a possibility, a plan."
You inhaled deeply, feeling the chill in the air as your fingers brushed his dark hair. He recently had it trimmed short on the sides, so he looked boyish and younger, even. He looked just like when you met him.
You loved him. Your love for him wouldn't be kept a secret.
"We'll think of something else," that was your final say about it.
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It is true that Seungcheol had grown a bit disdainful of himself ever since your parents had let on their thoughts of him. You didn't have to tell him anything directly, he could sense it. The cold shoulder, the glares, the offhanded comments.
They didn't have to be straightforward with him. Seungcheol also noticed it in the way your parents treated you; the constant threats, warnings, always cutting you off, the blackmail.
It was easy, from the minute he witnessed your parents talk down to you he knew he would never like them.
Well, the feeling was mutual.
That grew into dark thoughts in his mind, a sneaky internal voice that would feed into his insecurities, every dark thought inside him and these would get stronger each time he doubted himself with you.
Not feeling enough can be suffocating.
"Babe, you split your lip," you told him, offering him a tissue he could wipe the blood that was now mixing with his drool on his lips.
He had been biting off the skin of his lips. He did that absentmindedly as his thoughts took him to a dark path.
"Thanks," he muttered.
The tissue broke in his lip and stuck to the slit in his lower lip but he didn't seem to notice. That made you smile softly and reach for him to remove the bit of tissue from his broken lip with your fingers.
"Here," you whispered, and noticed Seungcheol's big dark eyes lost on your face.
He had been doing this for weeks now. Losing focus every now and then, he'd lose sleep and forget things. He did these things whenever he needed to say something but didn't know just how to get there, he always needed some prompting from you.
But you just couldn't bring yourself to initiate this time.
It was almost a month ago that you told him the news about the offer for you to study abroad. And about the offer your parents had made. You declined your mom's offer, but ever since then, Seungcheol had been acting off.
Your hand rested on his cheek, and he closed his eyes briefly to kiss your palm with his bloody lip.
"I love you," he mouthed, almost as if he couldn't bring his voice to enact itself.
"I love you too, babe," you replied, seeing his face contorted in pain and frustration was eating you up on the inside.
You had taken a job as a teacher's assistant at a school near Seungcheol's apartment. It was so near that you always visited his apartment after you were done with your shift.
So you practically lived with him in his one bedroom apartment. You had a bunch of clothes stored in the closet of his bedroom, a toothbrush, the books piling up in a corner were yours too. You occupied a large chunk of the desk with your computer, piles of papers from your job and pink headset sitting next to his.
The reason why you had taken up the teaching job was to start making some money for yourself, and possibly to make Seungcheol see that you could manage without the help from your parents, maybe then he'd ask you to move in with him.
Why hasn't Seungcheol just asked to move in with him? You hadn't asked him, but it would probably have something to do with your parents.
You knew he felt a certain kind of insecurity when it came to the lavish lifestyle your parents raised you with. But you couldn't care less in reality. You had him, that was all you needed.
So now your focus was that, your job and Seungcheol. You tried to forget about your MA acceptance letters. When you got the final letter of acceptance from all the applications you made, you were aware that you had a limited timespan to return one letter in agreement, but you haven't made a reply yet.
Seungcheol knew that, he was also well aware that you had only a few weeks to make your final choice and it was driving him crazy that you haven't made one.
It was like he was the one deciding on your future and he hated it.
He hated when your parents wanted to puppeteer everything in your life, they made choices for you most of the time and he hated watching that.
So now that you were choosing him over the biggest opportunity of your life, it killed him.
"Babe, stop thinking about it," you muttered, your heart palpitating hard at the mention of 'it'.
He blinked slowly and found your face, his brow furrowing slightly. "I can't."
"We have tonight," you smiled softly at him. "We can take our minds off for now, can you do that?"
He pressed your hand against his cheek briefly before grabbing it to lock your fingers with his.
"I will but only if you do something for me," he smiled slowly–a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
You knew that look. It was the look of someone desperately trying to feel something other than worry and finally coming face to face with their remedy.
You pushed your eyebrows up, and you knew what was coming. "No."
"Please baby, for me?" his eyebrows knitted and his bloody lip hung out in a cute little pout.
"I am not doing it!" you yanked your hand from his and stood from the couch of the living room of his apartment.
"Baby, you love it, every time!" he laughed as you walked off to his bedroom to get ready for the friendly reunion he was hosting that night.
"You are such a child, Cheol!" you bit back, rolling your eyes.
He was soon delivering kisses on your nape, hugging you from behind. "Please, baby. Please, you don't have to do anything, just sit."
"I'm not sitting on your face," you snorted as you sorted the clothes that you had brought to his apartment over months ago.
"Mmm baby, you didn't seem to hate it this much last time," he said, kissing the crook of your neck. "In fact, you sounded like you loved it."
"It was hard to relax," you confessed, your hands slacking on your sides when you felt his lips touch that spot on your neck. "I kept thinking that I was suffocating you."
"Angel, you know if that happens I'd die happy," he giggled. "Please? Before we go."
That was also something he'd been doing: drowning his worries with sex. So suffice to say, he's been fucking you almost everyday, at any chance he can get.
"We're late already babe," you muttered, his lips kissing your shoulder, ignoring the strap of your tank top.
"Jeonghan can manage if we're late, don't worry," he mumbled, while his hands dipped beneath your tank top, pulling it up to caress your skin at your waist.
When you made no reply, because you were too busy thinking that he'd been fucking you a lot these days, probably to quiet the voices in his head—you heard him sigh softly, and you turned your head to see him smile.
"We can do something else if you want to," he suggested in a soft tone.
"We're going to be late," you repeated but as soon as his hand slid from your waist and under your panties, you knew it was game over.
You dropped your head back on his shoulder when his fingers dipped on your sopping core. You heard him smile, and your head was now angled back so his lips found more skin on your neck he hadn't kissed.
"But you're so wet baby. You're dripping on my fingers. You planned to arrive at the party with your pussy all wet? What then?"
"I'd just wait for you to drag me to any corner where you can fuck me in," you replied, knowing that would elicit a chuckle out of him.
"Mm, but maybe I've spoiled you too much—giving you my cock whenever you want it, letting you come when you want to," his voice was low, like honey pouring onto your ear.
You shuddered against his body when his fingers circled your clit expertly. He knew you so well, knew every inch of your body, where you liked to be touched, how you liked to be fucked.
You moaned softly when he pinched your slick covered clit between his index and middle finger.
"I want you now. Do you want it baby?" he asked in a feigned sweet tone.
"I always want you to fuck me, Cheol," you whimpered, his fingers pressed on your clit and started rubbing circles on it.
"Will you be a good girl for daddy?" his other hand had already busied itself too, sliding from your waist under your tank top to find one of your already hardened nipples.
Your mouth parted a bit, feeling a bit lost on the swirls of his fingers on your swollen clit, and his other set of fingers teasing your nipples.
Seungcheol might be drowning his worries with sex. But so were you.
"Mmm yeah, I can be good," you decided.
I mean, you could be late for a bit. Han would manage.
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They say hurt people hurt people. But how can you hurt each other and bring comfort at the same time?
You never saw that you were hurting, but in retrospect, it couldn't have been more obvious. And Seungcheol was hurting, too. Pushing troubles away with sex and alcohol, you brought comfort to each other to ease the pain that was looming close.
What was the purpose of this party? You didn't know exactly, and you didn't ask. But lately you've been visiting Jeonghan's apartment every at least twice a week, for a different party.
Now, what prompts Jeonghan to throw parties? You suspected that he was fully aware of Seungcheol's need for a distraction, and the reason why. So like the best friend Jeonghan was, he made a pathetic excuse to throw a party at his house.
Seungcheol introduced you to his best friend a month into your relationship. It was the first time he introduced you to one of his closest friends and he was so excited, as he said he just knew you were going to get along with his best friend.
And that you did. You met him and you instantly clicked with him. As the years went by, he turned into something close to a brother for you. He even called you his little sister in an endearing way.
"What took you so long?" Jeonghan asked as he opened the door to his apartment. "Wait. Spare me the details," he chuckled as he embraced you tightly. "Happy anniversary!"
"Anniversary? Is that what he's saying now?" you asked, and looked over your shoulder to see Seungcheol already being stolen away by his friends.
Although your fourth anniversary drew closer, you knew that Seungcheol might be putting that as an excuse now. Even if your birthday was before the anniversary, you were suspecting he wouldn't dare use it as a real excuse.
Jeonghan shrugged carelessly. "I don't fucking know anymore," he laughed, looking at your boyfriend in the distance. "It's a new excuse every week, is it?"
"Yeah, I'm beginning to think it is," you muttered, resisting the thought that it was getting serious.
Seungcheol had a desperate need to avert his worries lately, which had turned into party after party every week. But now he was just saying anything to bring his friends over to Jeonghan's.
"Listen, I wanted to be patient and wait for him to tell me what's going on but, I'm getting worried now," Jeonghan announced, sucking in a long breath as he crossed his arms over his chest.
"He's fine, Hannie," you said reluctantly. "He's going to be alright, he just needs to let it out of his system."
And by that, the way Seungcheol chose to let it out was by turning to his vices: sex, gambling, drinking.
He was usually a fun drunk. Loud, energetic, happy. He was quick to organize a party around so he wasted no time and had already sat at a table with his friends to play drinking games.
"Are you sure that this has nothing to do with you not taking the degree offer?" he asked in a soft tone as you walked to his kitchen where he was picking on his food prior to your arrival.
"Han," you whined, darting a look to your unbeknownst boyfriend. "I told you I don't want to talk about it."
Jeonghan had turned into something like your confidant as well. Almost everything that Seungcheol knew about you, Han knew as well. Almost everything.
His brow furrowed a little, and two of his lithe fingers pushed a strand of deep red hair back and tucked it behind his ear.
"Neither of you want to talk about it," he rolled his eyes with a goofy giggle. "I guess I'll just wait until none of you sorry asses can't hang on any longer."
You laughed. "I suppose so, too. We don't deserve you, Hannie," you mumbled, giving him a squeeze on his shoulder before walking to your boyfriend.
He was sitting on a foldable table in Jeonghan's living room. The table was covered in cans of coke and bottles of soju, but in the center of it was a pile of bills.
A small sigh escaped your mouth. You felt tired already and haven't been to your 'anniversary party' for more than two hours now.
Seungcheol had already downed almost two bottles of soju when he lifted his head and found you standing before him.
"Hi beautiful," he murmured with a content smile, his lazy eyes scanned you from top to bottom once and with his free hand he took yours, pulling you gently.
You understood what he wanted and moved to sit on his lap in front of his friends. His hand gripped you by the waist and continued to pay attention to the game of poker he was playing with his friends.
Your cheeks grew hot at the very public display of affection and dominance but deep down you knew that you liked it.
Four years ago when you started dating Seungcheol, you slowly got a grip of just how possessive he was and you found out that you liked it.
He'd let everyone and anyone with eyes know that you were off limits. You liked that he made hickeys on your neck and chest so whenever someone darted a look at your cleavage, they'd see the marks from him.
And with the red strapless dress you were wearing, everyone glanced your way. It didn't show a lot of cleavage but it made your tits look so good that it drove everyone's eyes to take a peak.
So when you sat on his lap in the middle of their poker game, you couldn't help but notice the glancing eyes from his friends. Seungcheol couldn't care less that people looked, that was something he knew he had no control over.
No one would dare to do something more than just look.
Your boyfriend always encouraged you to dress however you felt like. And you did, every time you felt you were dressing too revealing or too provocative he would reassure you that nothing would happen to you around him.
You wondered if his friends even knew they had taken the bait. You knew you'd create a distraction the moment you sat on his lap, your lush thighs crossed, a bored look on your face.
Poker was a game that deeply bored you. You knew how to play, and you always thought it was not a game for you. It took time, money and strategy.
By the end of the game, Seungcheol gathered the money from the center of the table, and with a chaste kiss on your mouth he patted your backside gently.
"You won, baby," he muttered in your ear, placing a soft kiss on your earlobe.
You frowned in confusion. "No, I didn't. You did," you countered.
"The game turned in my favor when you appeared," he chuckled, looking up at you with a glint in his eye. "You give me luck."
"I do? And what do I get?" you asked playfully.
He offered you the roll of bills that was still in his grasp. But then a knowing smirk appeared on his cherry lips. You could tell that his eyes were glazed, a sign he was a bit drunk.
"You know I'm not talking about money, Cheol," you quipped, playing with his soft dark hair with your fingers.
"Oh, angel. You are greedy," he laughed and slowly reached for your lips. And then he muttered: "Let's go home."
As soon as you crossed his apartment door, he was already turning you around using one hand to yank you by your arm. You yelped as your chest hit his frame, quickly being shushed by the drunk kisses that landed on your face.
You made no attempt to slow him down, his hands pushed you to the nearest surface he could lay your body in. Your back hit the soft cushions of the small couch as you scooted your body across it with a squeal in pure excitement.
Seungcheol pulled your dress down by the hem of the chest area, yanking it down made it tear open a bit and the smile that appeared on his face made you think that he'd been wanting to do that all night.
He pulled back with a pleased sigh, his large hands taking both ends of the tear made in your dress and pulled harshly. Another yelp came out from you when Seungcheol tore the fabric on your chest in two.
"Babe! That's the second dress that you destroy," you tried to chastise him, but you couldn't help but smile. You kind of liked to see him so needy for you that he had to tear the clothes off of you.
But being so that your strapless dress was padded around the chest area, your bare tits sprung out when he tore it open. His smile grew bigger as he dipped his head to lick your nipples.
He didn't give you a reply, he just placed open mouthed kisses on the underside of your breast while a hand wrapped the other one and gave it a squeeze, making you squirm and moan when he started sucking your nipple.
Your hands searched the hem of his black t-shirt, pinching at the fabric to pull it over. He didn't resist, being a bit drunk made him forget about staying in the domspace for a bit so he pulled back and with one movement of his arms he got rid of his t-shirt, scrunching it into a ball and chucking it across the room.
"You're so hot," you sighed, letting out a chuckle at seeing your drunk boyfriend on his knees and between your legs.
The corner of his mouth stretched a bit into a grin. "You are too, angel. So fucking hot," he bent down to kiss you, two fingers grabbing your chin as his tongue dragged across your lip, then he paused. "Everyone looked at my baby tonight, I bet they wondered what was under that little dress."
You chuckled, returning the soft drunken kisses he planted on your lips.
"But only I get to look, right baby? Only I get to kiss you," he muttered, and to make his point across he trapped your lower lip to suck on it, and then he whispered: "Only I get to fuck you."
"Yes, daddy," you smiled, watching him continue to practically make out with your tits. You let out a small moan when he turned to suck your nipples again. "I'm all yours."
He stopped and smiled, lifting his head to give you a sly look. "That's right, angel. You're mine," he muttered, his hands gathering the sides of the torn dress to break the bit that was still sown together, tearing it completely.
He got rid of your red thong quickly and threw it over his shoulder where you couldn't see them anymore. At least he didn't destroy them this time.
"You will always be mine," he muttered with a fond look in his eye as he dipped his head between your legs, holding one of your legs over his shoulder and the other in his hand, angling it open for him.
He ran his tongue all over your cunt, making you scream in pleasure and grab his head with your hands. The strands of his brown hair tangled in your fingers.
Whenever he got tipsy, he would do this. He'd eat you out until he got drunk in your sweet juices instead. So he would run his tongue across your wet folds and your pussy lips, dipping his tongue on your entrance to get a taste of you, humming, moaning with you.
"Fuck, daddy!" you cried out, squirming involuntarily under his body. You arched your back, trying with everything you had not to push your hips against his mouth.
But you just couldn't help it. You swayed your hips forward ever so slightly, your pelvic bone bumping his forehead a bit.
"Behave," he warned, throwing you a look before darting the tip of his tongue around your clit.
You sucked in a breath, feeling the pointed tip of his tongue start to flick your clit expertly, knowing that would throw you over your climax soon.
"I'm–f-fuck," you stuttered, your body already twitching. "Daddy, I'm close. Let me come, please?"
You heard him lick his lips and you glanced down to see him. "You can come all over my mouth, baby," he granted before dipping his head to tease your clit some more with his tongue.
None of you cared how loud you were. Seungcheol loved the lewd sounds he got out of you, especially when all he did was make out with your pussy. You felt your walls clench erratically as you came on his mouth, your fingers clenching around the strands of his dark brown hair.
You blinked at him as he rose from the couch, undoing his belt with one hand and you sat up to get the button of his jeans and zipper with hasty fingers.
A hand came up to cup your chin, his fingers grazing your skin softly, commanding your eyes to his. Your heart twisted when you saw his adoring eyes looking at you as you got him out of his jeans and boxers.
He had been doing that lately. His eyes would briefly linger on yours during moments of intimacy. It made your heart ache as if clenched in a tight fist.
Seungcheol undid the strap of his wrist watch and let it drop to the pile of clothes on the floor. He sat on the couch as you moved to straddle him.
The following movements were precise, too familiar. You knew each other so well that there was no need for pause. So you simply angled his cock for you to sink yourself into it with a blissful moan and started riding him slowly at first.
You looked down at his eyes.
Seungcheol got caught up on the features of your face again, almost as if committing himself to memorize every expression, the way your eyebrows knit together, the way your mouth parts, the glint in your eye when your gazes connect.
"You're beautiful," Seungcheol whispered.
A sharp feeling in your chest robbed you of words, swallowing hard you dipped your head to kiss him softly.
Your hands grabbed at his wrists when he started kneading at your thighs, caressing the curve of your waist as you rolled your hips on his cock.
He loved the sight of you, the steady sway of your hips on his cock, your tits bouncing on his face, getting tired and more aroused by the second, the sweet moans you made for him.
"So perfect," you heard him whisper.
You swallowed back a moan when you felt his hot mouth on the swell of your breasts, then suckling at your nipple and teasing the other with his fingers.
"Daddy," you mewled, fingers sinking on his soft hair. "Fuck, that feels good."
His free hand caressed your back and secured a spot on your butt, cupping your flesh gently as you seemed to be getting tired, your breath had hitched and he could see that you were almost about to tap out.
"Do you want daddy to help you come, baby?" he asked with a sweet smile on his face.
"Yeah," you breathed and bit your lip in anticipation.
Seungcheol repositioned your body so your back was now pressed down the couch, your knees hoisted up his shoulders as he sheathed his cock inside you with a moan from both parts, and he immediately started slamming his hips against you.
Soon the tiny living room would flood with the sound of your lewd gasps and the slapping of his skin against yours as he fucked you into his couch. He knew your body so well that it didn't take him long to find the sweet spot inside you that drove you a little mad.
"God, daddy! So deep," you groaned through gritted teeth.
His eyes were lost on you, he knitted his eyebrows when you did as you moaned sweetly, pleading for him to not stop, your teary eyes glazing over his face as you neared your sweet, sweet release.
"Daddy, I'm cumming," you whimpered with a high-keen moan. "Fuck-k, daddy!"
Your eyes spilled some tears when you screwed them shut, sucking in a breath and your walls tightened around him. Seungcheol came so mind-numbingly hard that he groaned loudly, fucking his cum deep into you, his eyes still lost on your face.
Mind spinning, he eased your legs down from his shoulders to press his chest against yours as he attempted to regain focus. He felt your heart beating against his, your soft breaths, his cock still wedged inside your fluttering walls.
He didn't lower his full weight on you, but he knew that if he didn't recover soon, he would fall asleep on top of you.
When you felt like he might be falling asleep, you tried to budge under him. "Let's go to bed," you muttered softly.
He hummed. "Shower first, baby. Y'know the rules."
He peeled away from your body and stood up from the couch, promptly hooking his arms beneath your body and lifting you up.
You let out a groan in protest, but didn't complain any further because he had a point. The wet sensation making its trail down from your core was enough to make you go along with him.
He started the shower while you were in the middle of the bathroom, which was more cluttered with your stuff than his.
"Come on," he muttered lazily as he extended a hand to you, stepping on the shower with him.
He cupped his hands to gather water and he poured it on your shoulders. "Is it too hot?"
You shook your head and he proceeded to clean your body.
Seungcheol looked focused as he gently covered you in soap. You practically beamed at him, no matter how many times he did this, you always found it endearing whenever he washed your hair and body because he did it with a lot of care.
"You're okay?" he asked, taking one of your hands to rub your arm with soap.
"I'm fine, Cheol," you cooed and lifted your other hand for him to repeat the same process.
He hummed and nodded with his head briefly, his eyes inspecting your whole body as he covered every inch in soap.
"Turn around for me, baby," he instructed and you turned your back on him, the gentle stream of warm water landing on your face as he washed your back.
His wet dark hair was sticking to his forehead as the gentle stream from the showerhead above you warmed your body. He hugged you from behind and pressed his lips against your cheek.
"I love you so much," he whispered, pressing his lips repeatedly on yours. "Go to bed. I'll be there in five."
"I love you too, babe," you muttered before stepping out of the shower to dry your whole body with a towel and prepared for bed.
You practically slumped on the bed, where you had a designated side, marked by the small pile of books on one of the nightstands.
Five minutes later, you felt the bed sink behind your body on the weight of Seungcheol's body. He quickly grabbed your body in his arms and hugged you tightly, pressing kisses on your naked shoulder.
You thanked the warmth emanating from his body as he cuddled you beneath the bedsheets and bed covers.
A moment of silence happened between you. It should've been normal, but something in you sensed that Seungcheol was trying to get something out of his chest as his lips pressed long kisses on your skin.
"Love? Are you asleep already?" he muttered softly.
You turned beneath the bed sheets to face him.
His eyes wandered from yours, and into the distance behind your back. His brow furrowed ever so slightly and you saw how he choked on his own words before he could even utter a single one.
"Let's sleep, okay?," you suggested, your heart dropping at the sight of him being so troubled.
He nodded, blinking sleepily at you.
You smiled and cupped his cheek with one hand, which made his brow relax and his hand came up to yours, pressing his cheek against your hand.
"I love you," he whispered.
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The next morning, you woke up to the sound of your phone buzzing below your pillow.
You had but one message from your mother, detailing that her and your father were just coming back from their trip overseas and that they had just sent a driver to come pick you up because they were eager to see you.
You huffed. That was pretty much an euphemism for: 'We know you haven't been home since we left and we're not happy about it.'
That was pretty much like a routine for you, so you left your phone aside, just as a heavy arm circled your frame and pulled you closer to his.
"It'll be my birthday soon," you pointed with a small voice. "I'm turning twenty-four."
"I know, baby," he replied with a small frown, trying to egg you to get to your point.
"Maybe... I think it would be nice for us to start planning to get together–," you took a deep breath. "I wanna move in, with you."
Seungcheol allowed your words to sink in for a moment, not just for him but for you too, as if giving you a chance to elaborate.
"Would you like that?" you asked, shifting slightly on the pillow. "I mean, I practically live here already. And I'm making money, I'm sure we can manage..."
You could see the gears in his brain turning, his dark eyes reading your face over and over. His silence was unsettling and as the seconds went by, you started to feel nervous.
"What about your graduate acceptance?" he finally asked, his voice sounded almost like a croak, and you weren't sure if it was the raw emotion of finally touching the subject or the fact that you both had just woken up.
You shrugged slightly. "What about it?" your voice quivered slightly. "I can try next year, it's no big deal."
"No big deal, really?" he repeated slowly. "Baby, what are you even saying?"
"I can try again next year, maybe they'll give me the funding for the research next time," you fretted slightly beneath the sheets, an instant giveaway that you weren't sure of your own words.
"Why are you doing this?" he blurted, and the words sounded as if he wanted to ask for a whole month.
"Do what?" you frowned slightly.
"You're turning down this opportunity, your dream opportunity, why?" he asked.
"I just think that it might not be the best moment for me to take it," you mumbled, again, that tinge of uncertainty lacing your words.
"What?" he cringed. "You're joking, right?"
You paused, unable to give him a reply. Not because you didn't want to, but you didn't know what to say.
When you didn't say anything at all, Seungcheol sat up on the bed with a sigh. He rubbed his face and then brushed his hair through his fingers, a clear sign that he was getting heated.
"Cheol," you started, trying to get him to look at you. "If I go away right now, we're losing time together and I don't want that."
"You're telling me that you're turning down a once in a lifetime opportunity for us?" he asked, and you saw him shake his head slightly, but he was still not looking at you. "Can't we do long distance? Can't we take it up when you get back?"
The questions he was asking were honest and valid. But in your perspective, it was time lost.
"In a year and a half?" you pressed. "And you know we won't be able to do long distance, it will be nearly impossible."
"It will be better than you missing out on the opportunity to build and achieve your goals," he countered sternly. "I can't believe you're turning this down."
At that, he rose from the bed, throwing the duvet and sheets aside and opened his drawer to fish out his underwear and put it on silently as your mind reeled.
You sat up on the bed as he slid a pair of black sweatpants and turned to your direction.
"Say something," he urged.
"What do you want me to say, Cheol?" you started and shrugged again. "I've made up my mind. Why can't you just accept that?"
You rose from the bed too and copied his actions by finding your underwear and putting it on silently.
"I just want what's best for you," he said, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.
"At the cost of what we have?" you asked, knowing that you were threading on a dangerous path.
"Why does it have to be that way?" he asked, and you could sense the desperation in him just by hearing his voice. "Baby, this is your future and you're putting it on the line, for what?"
"For you, Seungcheol! For us!" you turned, your voice rang hoarse. You knew that it was wrong to raise your voice, it wasn't needed.
But you were in pain.
And he knew that.
"I don't want this," he muttered through gritted teeth.
"You don't want me?" you asked, your chest had started to heave in remorse and tears welled in your eyes.
He rolled his eyes in utter annoyance. "I want you to choose what's best for you and maybe right now the best for you is to follow your dream."
"What if what I want is to be with you?" you asked despite the feeling that maybe you were stepping on a line. "What if I tell you that I want to start a life with you?"
He ran his hands over his hair and his eyes rolled back again, but this time he just looked straight at the ceiling. "Since we know each other you wanted this," he shook his head slightly. "I can't believe that you just changed your mind in the span of a couple of weeks."
"But what if I have?" you sniffed loudly as tears ran down your cheeks. "What if I choose you? You don't want that?"
"I want you to choose yourself for the first fucking time in your life!" his words hung in the air between you two, but as soon as he uttered them, he looked like he wanted to take them back immediately.
But it was too late.
He was right.
But you couldn't give him that, you just couldn't see it at that moment.
He was right, but so were you.
You stood there, frozen. Feeling like an idiot. For four fucking years, all you did was choose him over everything. Half of your life was in that apartment; your wishes to move in with him and finally start your life far away from your family.
But now, you felt pushed away.
Seungcheol looked scared for a second, his mouth agape and widened eyes, as if waiting for your next move.
"Baby, I'm-,"
"I'm leaving," you declared, scrambling to get your clothes from your drawer in his bedroom. Hot tears blurred your vision as you tried your best to dress up quickly.
"Baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that, just-"
"No, Seungcheol. Don't baby me."
"We need to have this talk," he insisted, chasing you all over the bedroom as you dressed up.
"There is nothing to talk about. I'm done. I'm taking my mom's offer."
"What? Just like that? I say one wrong thing and that's it?" he asked, his voice strung in pain and confusion.
This can't be happening, he thought over and over.
You scrambled desperately for your pants, anything to put on.
"No, you're right," you told him. "You're always right. I should choose myself. I am so fucking dumb for thinking I was doing the right thing by choosing you."
You didn't dare to look at his face, but you knew that it hurt. It hurt saying it and Seungcheol stopped chasing you in his room as you found a top to put on.
"Don't do this," he said as he tried to take your arm, which you yanked from his grip.
"Do what?!" you snapped, finally looking at his face as you finished dressing up. "Do what, Seungcheol? You are leaving me with no choice. So, do what, exactly?"
Your voice rang with rage and despair. And when you faced him, you probably conveyed those emotions in your eyes because Seungcheol's expression just broke.
"This! Not talking it out, trying to hurt me," he gritted. "We need to talk about this. Or else, you're going to leave to another fucking continent and where does that leave us, me?"
Your steps were determined as you walked away from him, creating a physical and emotional distance between the two of you. He stood there, a mixture of frustration and despair written on his face.
"I can't tell you that, Seungcheol," you uttered through a broken voice. "That's something you'll have to sort out alone."
His eyes narrowed and tilted his head to the side just slightly, shoulders slumping down in defeat.
"What are you saying?" he asked, his eyes searching your face frantically and in sheer disbelief.
"Maybe we're not ready for this, Seungcheol," you told him despite the crippling pain in your heart. "Maybe I need to figure things out by myself."
This was happening. Despite all Seungcheol's planning, scheming, despite all his love, you chose this. You chose yourself.
So he had to make his choice.
"So this is it?" he asked, his eyes dead.
Your head nodded, chest heaving. "This is it."
The silence between you grew heavy, so heavy that Seungcheol felt nearing a breaking point.
"I never thought we would end like this," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Neither did I," you replied.
A broken sigh fell from his lips, choking up from the sheer pain invading his chest. "Is this what you truly want?"
"It is," you whispered.
You watched him swallow hard and then he nodded, balling his hands into fists, gritting his teeth as he accepted your choice, thus finalizing his.
Everything inside him screamed in pain, pleading with him to fight harder, to make you see what he saw but he just nodded.
He was letting you go.
The reality was, you and Seungcheol had given up.
It didn't feel real. The air was almost sickening, it made you dizzy.
With a last look, you walked away, leaving behind a piece of your heart and the remains of your first love, your first everything.
You left his apartment, slamming the door on your way out, tears blurring your vision as you hurried down the stairs. Your head was buzzing, and your chest hurt so much that you never noticed that Seungcheol changed his mind and followed you out the building.
But as soon as he saw you get in a black car, tinted windows and drove away, he knew he had lost you, you were gone.
And that you were, for two years.
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✧ a/n: hiiiii ᨐฅ
i cried while writing this, and that's a first for me.
i hope this flashback chapter wasn't confusing haha. if it was, feel free to comment or send me an ask!
› so who do you think was in the wrong/right here? reader or seungcheol? i wanna know your opinions ‹(•⩊•)› i'd say they were both dumb and thought themselves to be undeserving of each other and threw it all away at the slightest bit of conflict haha
once again, this was loosely proofread, am sorry
if you liked reading this, please let me know? i'd appreciate a comment, reblog, like or even an ask! my ask box is always open and i love to know your thoughts on anything ૮₍。´ᴖ ˔ ᴖ`。₎ა
↣ i want to dedicate this chapter to @cvntrlseecvntrlvee, who kept the seungcheol brain rot alive and kicking, 💟
✧ READ PART 4 ✧ | JOIN MY TAGLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTERS
toodles
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© RIGHTS RESERVED TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.
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middlepartmatt · 5 months
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after party. . . 𖥔 ݁ ᥫ᭡
❝ so i love when you call unexpected, 'cause i hate when the moment's expected. so i'ma care for you, you, you ❞ — earned it, the weeknd
you and chris have been best friends since childhood, and nothing more. that is, until one night you are the last two people awake after a party and you're both in the mood for something more.
WARNINGS: smut, switch!chris, player!chris, switch!reader, oral (m & f receiving), grinding, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (fem!oc is on the pill)
it's currently 4:30 am, and the party has long since died down. everybody left about two hours ago when the police showed up and kicked out all of the guests because of noise complaints, but the group had decided to stay awake and talk for an hour until nick complained he was tired, and everybody else mumbled in agreement. they're all asleep now, besides you and chris, the only two left downstairs.
you're bored out of your mind, sitting and staring mindlessly at the wall while chris scrolls on his phone. your eyes unwillingly drift over to him, your gaze comfortably settling on him on the other side of the couch. he's wearing grey sweatpants and a basic white tee, his hair messy and covering his eyes slightly where it's hanging over his forehead. you hate the feeling you get deep in youe stomach as you look at him, illuminated only by a few candles and the light from his phone screen. 
like he can feel your eyes on him, chris then puts down his phone and turns to look at you. his blue eyes seem muted and sleepy, though there's a glint in them you can't seem to ignore.
"wanna watch a movie?" he suggests, and you just nod. he picks up the remote and begins scrolling through netflix. despite yourself, you study him closely as he looks through the plethora of movies available for the two of you to watch. you suddenly feel the room getting warmer and push the fluffy blanket off of yourself.
chris settles on a movie, not bothering to ask you if you even want to watch it on before the opening credits begin playing. you lean back against the couch, occasionally finding yourself glancing over at chris to see his reaction to the movie. Though his face remains the same, barely even showing any signs of amusement. it's almost like his mind is completely elsewhere.
so is yours, clearly, as he's all you can focus on.
you roll your eyes at yourself and decide to start actually watching the movie. it's a stupid comedy with a bunch of dumb scenes and even worse jokes, though you find yourself amused all the same. 
"this movie is so dumb," you chuckle, and chris turns around to see you, a smile on his face. 
"can't be that bad if you're laughing," he replies quickly, and you kiss your teeth. his eyes remain locked with yours and you suddenly feel nervous, so you decide to look away. you pick up your glass and take a sip of water, before leaning back with the glass still in your hand.
"well anyway, you must be disappointed about tonight," you say to chris, who raises an eyebrow. 
"what do you mean?" he asks quietly. 
"come on, chris," you says, rolling your eyes. "i think tonight's the first time you've been at a party and not had your tongue down some girl's throat at least once." 
he furrows his eyebrows and presses his lips together.
"maybe i didn't want to," he says quietly, like he's contemplating something. it irks you though, because you realize it's the first time you've struggled to figure him out. as his best friend, you can always tell what he's thinking, but tonight has been impossible. 
"or maybe all of the girls at school have finally realized how ugly you are," you say, your voice laced with sarcasm. chris scoffs loudly, like it's the most outrageous thing he's ever heard. 
but then, all of a sudden, he twists in your direction and places his hands on your waist, pulling you onto his lap. chris' grip tightens, fingers brushing against your skin as he sits you down onto his crotch. your smile falls, and chris grins as he leans closer and whispers into your ear: "maybe this is what i was waiting for."
you tense, barely able to move or even think as you register what is currently happening.
"that's funny," you reply, your words coming out weaker and quieter than you wanted.
"almost as funny as you trying to convince yourself you don't want this," chris replies instantly, as if without a thought.
the movie continues playing in the background, but neither of you are paying it any attention whatsoever. chris is just looking at you, his hands still firmly planted on your waist. every single word has left your mind.
"if you hate this, you can always leave," he shrugs, leaning back but keeping his hands exactly where they are. you could slap him for saying something like that when you're literally sitting on his lap and can barely even think because of it.
when you doesn't speak again, chris just continues: "last chance, baby," he says softly.
you don't want to leave. heat rises to your cheeks, and his eyes darken as he looks down at you.
"i'm not going anywhere," you whisper, and chris immediately grins before leaning forward to kiss you. he's needy with it, as if he's wanted this for a long while.
he kisses you slowly, deeply, his lips pressing hard against yours as he reaches around your waist to pull you closer to him. you return the gesture, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him even closer to you, to which chris responds by smiling against your lips. 
from there, your hands move to his neck, your skin burning hot against his as you moves further upwards, running your fingers through his hair. as you do so, chris pulls away slightly, his chest moving up and down as he breathes heavily. 
"fuck, you can't-" he pants, but you cuts him off. 
"can't what?" you grin, and he presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek, almost in disbelief at your words. his hands then trail upwards from your waist to rest on your neck, right as he leans forward to kiss you again. 
you kiss him back, your lips moving in sync with each other. your mind swirls with a million thoughts; you're now realizing how badly you want this and the fact that you've wanted it for a long while.
chris leans back against the couch again, you leaning forward to deepen the kiss, your breath hitching slightly as he puts his hands on your waist once more. throughout the kiss, he fiddles with the hem of your tank top, his fingers brushing lightly against you skin, making your heart beat even faster. 
you decide that enough is enough and if he's going to mess with you like this, then you're allowed to do the same. his hands are still on your hips as you brings your hands back up to run through his hair, feeling the softness of it against your fingers. 
chris uses his hands to pull you closer, and you can feel your body responding to his actions as you kiss him harder. you practically melt into him as your hands now find their place on his neck by his collarbone. unable to stop yourself, you tug his bottom lip between your teeth before kissing him again. chris chuckles mid-kiss, and you're struggling to believe that this is actually currently happening. 
your thoughts immediately disappear when you feels his erection pressing against your core, and you can't help the grin that forms on your lips. you press herself against him, rubbing your body against his, feeling his cock throbbing against your skin.
chris groans in response and bites your lip. you feel his hands slide down to cup your ass, squeezing gently. then he lifts you slightly so that he can sit up straighter, with you still straddling his lap.
you rub your pussy along his cock through his pants, and he whimpers softly. you slip your hand inside his pants and finds his hard cock, stroking it slowly.
"fuck," chris grits out, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. 
"yeah?" you hum in response, reeling in the way he throws his head back against the couch cushion just at the sound of your voice. "you like that?"
he nods and arches his hips upward, grinding against your hand. "love it," he breathes, and you laugh softly and kiss him again, still stroking him.
you pull away from the kiss and slide off of him. chris sits up and reaches for you, but you shake your head. you first pulls his shirt off over his head, tossing it to the side before leaning forward and kissing him again.
chris moans into your mouth, his hands sliding down your sides to your hips. he lifts you slightly so that he can pull your shirt up and off of your torso.
you shiver as his fingers brush against your bare stomach. you gasp softly as he kisses your neck, his tongue darting out to taste your skin.
before he can do anything else, you quickly move away and bend down, your eye level the same as his knees. his hard cock is bulging out of his boxers, and chris looks down at you longingly.
"touch me, love, please," he begs. you grab his boxers by the waistband and pull them down, revealing his throbbing cock. you smile at him wickedly and drop to your knees, taking him into your warm mouth.
"fuck," chris repeats, looking up at the ceiling. "oh god, yes."
he moans loudly and closes his eyes, enjoying the feel of your plump lips wrapped around him. you begin to move your head back and forth, tongue swirling around his dick. you moan softly as you suck him, your hand moving up and down his length. you glance up at him and see him watching you, his hands gripping the couch cushions tightly.
you use your hand to stroke him gently while you suck his dick. you love the sounds he makes, and you moan softly every time you take him into your mouth. chris groans at the vibrations and runs his fingers through your hair, pushing you closer to him. you moan and take him deeper into your throat, your nose pressed against his stomach. he lets out a shaky breath and pushes your head further onto him. you let out a surprised sound when you feels him hit the back of your throat.
you gag slightly and pull back a little bit, but chris holds your head there, his fingers tangling in your hair. he moans loudly and continues to fuck your face, his fingers digging into your scalp. you moan, other hand gripping his thigh as you try not to gag. throughout all of this, you feel yourself getting wetter with each thrust of his cock into your mouth, desperate for some sort of relief.
you whimper, loving how he makes you feel. chris moans and leans back, his cock twitching as he cums into your mouth. you swallow it all, before your eyes widen in surprise as he pulls you up off of him. chris smiles and pulls you close, kissing you hard.
he pulls away before grinning: "your turn, beautiful."
chris pushes you back against the couch, so that you're laying down before him.
he kneels between your legs and pulls your skirt up, revealing your white lace panties. chris smiles and slides his hand into your panties, feeling your wetness.
"so wet," he muses. "and it's all for me."
"all for you, asshole," you reply breathlessly, barely able to think straight. he moans softly at you being his, and slides his fingers along your slit, teasing you. he pulls your panties to the side and finally slides his fingers inside you, finding your clit instantly.
he rubs it slowly, smirking as you moan softly. he slides two fingers into your tight pussy and starts pumping in and out. you release a short whimper and bite your lip, closing your eyes. chris smirks and slides a third finger inside you, making you moan louder this time. he continues to finger you and rub your clit, and your body starts to shake.
"woah, calm down, baby," he murmurs. "i've only just got started with you." his words alone make you even wetter, if that's even possible. your legs spread wider for him and he moans as he slides a fourth finger inside you, stretching you wide open. you cry out, thighs clenching together.
chris then pulls his fingers out of you and licks them clean, before leaning down and sliding his tongue along your slit. you moan and now spread your legs wider, so desperate for his touch. he sucks on your clit gently, and you writhe, unable to control yourself. 
"chris, stop," you manage. "if you keep going, i'm gonna-"
chris suddenly stops then, and stands up, pulling your panties back over your wet pussy. your eyes widen as you're left lying there, longing for his touch. 
"chris," you plead. "c'mon, please."
he grins at your desperate state, a cocky smile playing on his lips. 
"what was that?" he teases. "say it again, baby, i couldn't hear you."
"fuck you, chris," you say, your voice strained as you press your legs together for any sort of friction.
"i thought you'd never ask," chris grins, grabbing your arms and pinning them above your head. he kisses you hard, then slides his tongue into your mouth, tasting you. you moan into his mouth and try to pull away from him, but he holds you tight, pressing himself against you. 
his tip grazes you soaking pussy softly, and you spread your legs wider for him, looking up at him pleadingly. you moan and push your hips towards him, begging him to enter you. he smiles and eases his cock into you, making you gasp. he groans and slowly slides his cock further into your tight pussy, filling you up completely.
"you're so fucking hot," chris whispers, grinning. moans leave his mouth as he begins thrusting in and out of you, fucking you hard. you groan and grind against him, your pussy throbbing. you arch your back, needing even more of him.
your body trembles as his thrusts get faster, more out of control. you bite your lip to stop yourself from crying out. 
"i like it when you're noisy," chris tells you then.
"chris," you whimper, unable to comprehend any other words, though he moans as you say his name. with his every thrust you get closer to tipping over the edge, your groans growing louder with every movement.
your body shakes, your pussy pulsing around his cock. chris doesn't stop though, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to your lips. 
"cum for me, baby."
you do as he says, letting out a moan as his cock hits the back of you one last time. you hold him tightly, your nails dragging sharply down his back, though chris doesn't mind. he loves seeing you unravel like this in front of him, knowing it's all his doing.
"good girl," he whispers into your ear.
"your turn," you whisper back, suddenly grabbing his hips and thrusting yourself onto him one more time. chris throws his head back, groaning as he finishes. 
he pulls out of you, looking down at you, his best friend, with a smile on his face.
"bet no one else has ever made you moan like that before, huh?" he grins smugly. you bite your lip, shaking you head. "thought so."
"shut up," you reply, getting up from the couch and reaching out for his hand. "we should get cleaned up," you tell him.
"if you wanna have shower sex, you can just say so," chris shrugs, and despite yourself, blush forms on your cheeks.
"i'll take that as a yes," he continues, taking your hand and leading you to the bathroom.
AUTHOR'S NOTE. . . i am a y/n hater for life you will never catch me using that lol
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pickingupmymercedes · 19 days
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Ways they show they love each other pt. 2 - Lewis Hamilton
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Other 5 snippets of fluff (part 1 here)
Also there's a bunch more just like these ones if you like them - Ways to say I love you p1 / p2 ; All these little things - p1 / p2 ; Small firsts
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
wordcount: +4k
a/n: Hope you guys like the other 5❤️
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
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A shared laugh
The garage hummed with its usual controlled chaos—engineers calling out last-minute adjustments, mechanics moving with practiced precision, and the soft hiss of machinery setting the stage for another session of free practice.
It was the kind of environment where every second mattered. And yet, in the corner, just a little off to the side of it all, there was a pocket of something entirely different.
Y/n leaned against the side of a counter, arms folded across her chest, a teasing smile playing at her lips. She was watching him as he stood in front of her, half-dressed in his race suit, the top half still hanging loose around his waist.
His arms were bare as he put on his fireproofs, and his face seemed relaxed—a quiet playfulness reserved only for moments like this, where no one was looking too closely.
Except, of course, someone always was.
And now the video was on every Mercedes’s social account for everyone to watch too.
“You’re actually serious right now?” Y/n voice could be heard, tinged with disbelief as she raised an eyebrow at him.
Lewis grinned, his eyes gleaming mischievously. “I’m telling you, it’s true.”
“No way” she replied, shaking her head. “You can’t honestly believe that.”
“I’m not making it up!” He insisted, stepping closer, his hands animated as he tried to explain whatever ridiculous story he’d just finished telling her. “I’m not the only one who thinks that a burrito is technically a sandwich.”
Y/n burst out laughing, unable to contain herself any longer. “A burrito?” she managed between giggles, wiping at her eyes. “Lewis, I swear, this is the dumbest debate I’ve ever had with you.”
Lewis was laughing too now, the deep, contagious sound of it filling the space around them.
It was the kind of laugh that made anyone within earshot want to smile, even if they didn’t know what the joke was. And right now, the joke didn’t matter—it was the shared absurdity of the moment that had them both in stitches, doubling over in the midst of all the seriousness around them.
One of the engineers glanced up from his workstation, catching sight of the scene. He looked confused and amused by the way Lewis looked at Y/n, the way they bounced off each other’s energy so effortlessly.
They were in their own bubble, and it was hard not to notice how much lighter the air felt around them.
“Okay, okay,” Y/n said, holding up a hand as if to stop herself from laughing any further. “You win. Burritos are sandwiches now. You’ve officially lost your mind, but fine.”
Lewis chuckled, leaning against the car beside her, still catching his breath. “Took you long enough to come around” he teased, nudging her gently with his elbow.
She rolled her eyes, but there was no hiding the fondness in her expression.
Just then, the race engineer called out to Lewis, signaling that it was time to get back to business. The moment was over, but the laughter still lingered between them, a spark of something light and easy in the middle of an otherwise intense environment.
Lewis straightened up, pulling his race suit fully over his shoulders and zipping it up. The smile was still on his face, though, and Y/n noticed how it softened as he glanced her way again before putting on his helmet.
“Good luck out there, burrito boy,” she called after him, her tone teasing but warm.
He paused, helmet in hand, and shot her one last look over his shoulder. “Sandwich,” he corrected, his grin unmistakable.
A comforting touch
The morning air could be felt as Lewis stepped out of his hotel, greeted by the familiar sight of eager fans gathered just at the entrance.
Their energy was something for 8 in the morning, a mixture of excitement and admiration that seemed to surge towards him in waves.
Y/n stood a few steps behind, her presence almost unnoticed by those who didn’t know where to look.
As always, Lewis paused at the threshold, scanning the crowd. It was a ritual of sorts—a moment to gauge the atmosphere, to read the room, even if the room was the open air of a city street.
His expression was calm, composed, but Y/n could see the weight of the day ahead in the slight tension in his shoulders. She knew this routine, knew how the spotlight both invigorated and drained him.
Y/n caught his eye, offering a small, reassuring smile. It was a silent nudge, a gentle encouragement, and she tilted her head slightly towards the fans as if to say, Go on, they’re waiting for you.
Lewis hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded, stepping forward to engage with the crowd. His smile widening as he reached the fans, his demeanor the charismatic champion they all adored.
Y/n watched as he moved from person to person, signing caps, taking photos, exchanging a few words that would become cherished memories for those lucky enough to be there.
She could have stayed back, let him handle it alone—he was used to this.
But instead of going for the waiting, she found herself pulled towards the crowd, her own steps unhurried.
There was no grand gesture, no need to make her presence known. She simply started gathering the items people held out as if she was her assistant —caps, shirts, posters—creating a small pile for Lewis to sign as he worked his way down the line.
As she turned to pass the cap to Lewis, their hands brushed—just a fleeting touch, barely there, but enough to draw his attention.
He glanced at her, a question in his eyes, and she responded with a soft squeeze of his hand, a silent affirmation that she was there with him, sharing the moment, supporting him somehow.
To anyone watching, it was just a brief interaction, lost in the flurry of excitement. But to those who knew it was a glimpse into something that had been kept a secret for a while.
There was a rhythm to it, a dance of sorts, as they navigated the crowd together. She would hand him a cap or a poster, and he would sign it, occasionally looking her way with a subtle smile that only she could read.
It was in these moments, these quiet exchanges amid the chaos, that the depth of their connection became visible, not just to each other but to those around them.
One of the fans, a woman in her mid-thirties, watched them with a curious expression. She wasn’t there for Y/n—she was there for Lewis, like everyone else—but she couldn’t help noticing the way they interacted.
There was something so natural, so effortless, in the way they moved together. It was like watching a well-rehearsed play, each knowing their role without needing to speak their lines.
Lewis finished signing the last few items, Y/n handed back the cap to a young girl, who beamed as if she had just received a priceless treasure. Lewis watched the exchange, his eyes softening as he saw the way Y/n knelt to speak to a young girl, making sure she felt seen, valued.
When Y/n stood up again, Lewis was there, closer than before.
He placed a hand on the small of her back, a gesture so subtle it might have gone unnoticed if not for the way she instinctively leaned into it. They didn’t need to say anything; the touch was enough, a grounding force amidst the buzz of the crowd.
And for those who caught that, it was clear: this was love, not in the grand declarations or the flashy displays, but in the small, comforting touches that passed between them, the ones that said, I’m here, I’m with you, we’re in this together.
A supportive gesture
The stretch of road at kilometer 30 was lined with spectators, their cheers echoing off the buildings as runners powered past in the late stages of the marathon. Signs of encouragement waved in the breeze, cowbells chimed, and the occasional horn blared from the sidelines.
Among the crowd, faces blurred together, but one figure stood out—though he tried his best not to.
Lewis disguised in a plain black hoodie and sunglasses, stood at the edge of the barriers, holding a bottle of hydrolites and a couple of gels in his hands.
To most people, he was just another supporter, cheering on the runners like any other fan. But to the few who managed to catch a glimpse, a double-take revealed the truth.
The F1 superstar, one of the most recognizable faces in the world, was standing quietly, trying to blend into the crowd.
He wasn’t there for the attention though. This wasn’t about him. Today was about Y/n.
She had been training for months, putting in the hours and the sweat. And Lewis had been right there with her every step of the way, in the background, supporting her as she chased down a goal that had nothing to do with racing or Formula 1.
Today, she was the one in the spotlight.
As the runners passed by, his eyes scanned the crowd, searching for her familiar figure. She usually held a strong pace in the early stages, and he knew this was where the race got tough.
Kilometer 30 was her hardest wall, where fatigue set in, muscles burned, and the mental battle began.
He shifted his weight from foot to foot, his grip tightening on the bottle, his heart pounding in rhythm with the runners' footsteps.
He’d been tracking her progress the whole way, checking his phone for updates on her pacing and timing it perfectly so he’d be waiting when she rounded the corner.
And then she came into view. Her face set in that expression Lewis knew so well. The one that said she wasn’t giving up, no matter how tough it got.
Without a word, Lewis stepped forward, arm outstretched with the bottle and gels. Y/n’s eyes flickered up as she passed, and for a second, their gazes met. She didn’t say anything—she didn’t need to.
She just grabbed the bottle, took the gels, and in one smooth motion, continued her pace.
It was a split-second exchange, a tiny moment in the grand scheme of her marathon. But it was more than enough.
“I’ll be waiting at the finish line!” Lewis blurted out, his voice louder than intended as she disappeared into the sea of runners ahead.
Y/n turned around slightly, not breaking her stride, flashing him the briefest hint of a smile curl at the edge of her lips.
He couldn’t help but smile back, the fans behind him snapping pictures, likely posting online about how they had seen Lewis waiting at the side of her marathon.
The moment didn’t even last a minute. It wasn’t grand, it wasn’t flashy, but it was his way of showing up for her.
But what they didn’t see—what no one but Y/n could truly understand—was that this wasn’t the guy they knew. This wasn’t the F1 superstar, the champion, or the media personality.
This was just Lewis. Her boyfriend, the guy who would stand on the side of roads with a bottle of Hydrolite and gels. To make sure she gave her best.
The fans only caught glimpses of it—the way he waited patiently just for her. The way he smiled and encouraged her. The way he leaned in close to make sure she knew that he was here for her and her alone.
A few people around him had started to whisper, some with wide eyes realizing who he was, but he didn’t care. Not today. Today, he was just a guy standing at the 30-kilometer mark, cheering on his girl, making sure she had what she needed to keep going.
As he melted back into the crowd, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt up a little tighter, a couple of fans tried to approach, cameras raised in anticipation. But Lewis gave them a polite nod and quietly slipped away before they could ask for anything more.
He wasn’t here to be the F1 star today. He was here for her.
And he had to reach that final gate.
Because no matter what, he knew one thing for sure: he’d be waiting for her at the finish line, just like he promised.
A helping hand
The car door swung open to noise and flashes, cameras popping off in the crisp evening air. Fans lined the walkway outside the event, eager to catch a glimpse of Lewis Hamilton and Y/n as they arrived.
Y/n smoothed the fabric of her dress, taking a steadying breath as she prepared to step out of the car. She was a pro at these types of events, but it’d be the first they would attend a fashion week as a couple and the attention always came with its own blend of nerves and excitement.
She reached for her purse, but before her hand could graze the leather strap, Lewis had already scooped it up, holding it casually in his free hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
He did it without thought, without hesitation—like it was instinct.
Outside the car, he stood tall, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, his confidence and poise effortless, as always.
He extended his hand to her, the gesture so simple yet filled with quiet care. Y/n placed her hands in his, feeling the warmth of his palms as he helped her step out, guiding her gently. His touch steady, reassuring—a message that said, I’m here. I’ve got you.
As they began to walk toward the entrance, cameras continued to capture every step, but it was Lewis’ small, subtle actions that seemed to draw the most attention.
Y/n could hear whispers from the crowd, murmurs of admiration at how Lewis wasn’t afraid to carry her things, how comfortable they seemed in each other’s presence.
A fan shouted something playful about how lucky Lewis was, and Y/n couldn’t help but laugh under her breath, stealing a glance at him as they walked.
“You know, you’re going to set unrealistic standards for these guys” she teased lightly, her voice low so only he could hear.
He glanced at her a playful grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “They can keep up.”
But it wasn’t just the purse. As they neared the door, Lewis held onto her hand a beat longer, squeezing gently before letting go, just enough to remind her that he was by her side, not just as a partner but as someone who always had her back.
The way his fingers lingered on hers, the way his touch communicated support without the need for grand gestures—it was the kind of thing only those paying attention would notice.
It wasn’t until later, when they were inside the venue, mingling with the crowd and the night was in full swing, that Y/n realized just how much attention that small gesture had garnered.
Her phone buzzed in her purse—now safely back in her possession—and she saw her social media lighting up.
Photos of them stepping out of the car, Lewis holding her purse and helping her out, had spread like wildfire.
It was funny, really, how such a small, everyday act could spark so much conversation. But that was the beauty of it.
It was the quiet moments of care, the ones that others caught glimpses of, that truly showed the depth of their love.
And maybe the world had taken notice only tonight, but for Y/n, it was just another reminder of the kind of love they shared—the kind that lived in the small, supportive gestures that made all the difference.
A shared secret
The video started with the usual buzz of the garage during race weekend—mechanics working on the cars, team members hurrying around, and the faint hum of engines in the background.
The camera panning over the scene, capturing the lively chaos as the reporter filming moved between the crowd, searching for any interesting snippets.
And then Lewis and Y/n were spotted.
Standing close, slightly out of the way, their heads leaned in towards each other.
From the angle, it was clear that whatever they’re talking about was private.
An undeniable tension in the air around them. Didn’t look like an argument but something that made the space between them feel intense.
The reporter’s camera zoomed in. Their faces a bit blurred, but the body language spoke volumes.
Y/n’s arms were crossed loosely in front of her, and Lewis had one hand resting on the back of his neck, his expression serious as he listened.
Their conversation was low, and while the reporter couldn’t hear what they’re saying, it was clear they were focused entirely on each other.
The camera caught Y/n leaning in a little closer, saying something under her breath that made Lewis nod in response. It was one of those moments that looked important, but it was impossible to know exactly what was being said.
There was a flicker of understanding that passed between them, the kind of shared look that only comes when two people are on the same wavelength.
For a while they didn’t even notice the camera. But then, like a switch flipping, Y/n’s eyes dart toward the camera.
She spotted it first, her body tensing just slightly before she looked back at Lewis, who followed her gaze.
Lewis glanced over his shoulder, locking eyes with the camera for a split second. He said something quickly to Y/n, and the shift was palpable.
Whatever secret they were sharing, whatever private moment they were having, it was clear they didn’t want anyone else intruding on it.
Without any other word, they turned, Y/n subtly tugging at the sleeve of Lewis’s race suit as they moved towards the inside of the garage.
The camera followed them for as long as they could zoom, capturing how closely they walked side by side, their hands intertwining as they turned a corner.
The air between them was thick, and it was clear whatever they were discussing wasn’t over yet—it was just being moved somewhere out of sight.
As they disappeared into the garage, the camera lingered for a moment, catching some of the engineers also looking at them leave.
And before the screen cut to black a whisper could be heard on the video  “What was that about?”
______________________________________________________________
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watchmegetobsessed · 1 year
Text
NO MORE GAMES
A/N: so this concept might be familiar for some of you bc i posted about it earlier before i started working on it but now its officially here! and this is my thank you gift for all of you for reaching 15k followers!!! it's insane, thank you so much and hope to bring you even more stories soon!!!
WORD COUNT: 7.9k
WARNING: sexual content
SUMMARY: Your friend forces you to give Tinder a try. Surprisingly you fetch a date with the handsome and a little bit older Harry. But he stands you up and you lose hope in dating. However it's a real plot twist when you run into him at your dad's barbeque and he is introduced to you as the future CEO of your father's company.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
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“This has got to be the lowest point of desperation.”
“Don’t be so dramatic!”
“I’m not, this is truly the end.”
Dani rolls her eyes and just keeps tapping away on your phone’s screen, setting up your Tinder profile.
You. On Tinder. The app you swore you’d never use. How did this happen?
Well, it happened because your boyfriend of two years decided to dump you in a McDonald’s parking lot, only to post about his engagement to another woman on Facebook three weeks later. 
Disgusting pig, you’re convinced you were blind and deaf in those two years, that’s how you could put up with him for so long.
You’ve been wallowing in your self-pity for the past three months and Dani, your best friend had enough and said that you need to get on a dating app, hook up with some fine ass men and forget about Cruz.
“Alright, it’s all set, want to have a look?” Dani smirks, obviously pleased with herself as she hands you over the phone.
It’s a decent profile, she chose some good pictures of you, your profile was never your concern, it’s others on the app that makes you crawl out of your skin.
“Perfect,” you flash her a forced smile, she grabs the phone and then starts swiping vigorously. “Hey! Don’t swipe right on everyone!”
“Not everyone! Just the hot guys!”
“You’re not even reading their bio!”
“Because I don’t care, we’re looking for a hookup, not your husband here, duh!”
You sit, feeling helpless as you watch your best friend decide who is worthy of you in the virtual meat market. This is really not your scene and you’re more than skeptical anything good will turn out from it.
Dani keeps swiping for a while before you finally talk her out of it and you settle watching a movie instead, forgetting about the profile that is now available for every single man in your area. 
To be honest, it completely slips your mind until you’re getting ready for bed and unlock your phone to set an alarm and see all the notifications from Tinder.
“Fuck,” you breathe out, falling into bed as you unwillingly, but tap on one of the notifications and the app opens.
It’s been only a few hours, but you got twenty-seven matches and five out of those even messaged you. You instantly skip the first three because one straight up asks for nudes, one just sends you a bunch of emojis and the third one sent the worst pick up line you’ve ever heard. 
The fourth one is okay, but it’s kind of… well, it’s a simple “Hi, how are you?” and you’re not sure how to reply to that, so then only one’s left.
Harry.
The age next to his name reads 36, that’s not that big of an age gap, only eight years, you’ve seen worse. Besides, he looks younger, almost your age according to the pictures. He has a couple, but not too many. He’s smiling on his profile picture, the t-shirt displays his many tattoos on one of his arms, his hair is slightly curly and mostly a mess, but it’s the good kind.
He is definitely your type. 
He opened with referring to something that’s written in your bio which feels nice, knowing that he actually read it instead of just swiping right based on your pictures. Your thumbs hover over the screen for a bit before you finally give in and type him an answer.
He replies right away. And so the conversation starts.
One message follows the other, you’re jumping from one topic to the next and at one point it feels like you’re talking to an old friend and not a guy you’ve never actually met. The next thing you realize that it’s three am and you’re still talking. 
Y/N: We’ve been talking for hours and you still haven’t asked for my number, should I take it as a bad sign?
HARRY: Didn’t want to seem too pushy, but I wanted to ask for it the moment I saw your profile. 
You smile like a little girl as you type your answer.
Y/N: That would have been too soon, you’re right. But now would be a good time.
HARRY: Hey, crazy idea! Can I maybe have your number?
You laugh. You genuinely laugh at the screen and that probably never happened before.
You give him your number. 
You didn’t think it would go this far, this whole Tinder ordeal Dani forced you into. You were kind of set that it won’t work so why should you even try? 
Now it’s a surprising outcome that you’re on your way to meet Harry at a bar, only three days after texting nonstop. And you’re kinda nervous about it.
You haven’t been on a first date in a long time and it’s giving you the jitters as you get ready. Your experience getting to know Harry in the past few days has been incredibly positive, you wonder if it will be the same when you physically meet.
You arrive at the bar a little early and take a seat at the table he reserved on his name. To ease your nerves you order a vodka soda that you drink quickly, the alcohol mixing in your veins pretty fast, but you’re still nervous to meet him in real life. 
As you wait, a guy comes up to you who seems to be more interested in your cleavage than you while he tries to chat you up, but you quickly reject him, your gaze keeps returning to the entrance, expecting Harry to walk in at any moment.
Minutes pass by and then seven o’clock rolls around, the time when you were supposed to meet, but you see no sign of him, which makes your stomach twist and turn. You double check the time, the date and the place to make sure you’re where you need to be.
“You seem awfully lonely,” a voice speaks up behind you and for a split second you think that it’s Harry, you just missed when he walked in, but when you turn around you see a totally different man, holding two drinks in his hands, clearly offering one to you. You make no effort to accept it.
“I’m not,” is all you say, turning your eyes back ahead. He doesn’t get the hint.
“If you’re waiting for someone I’m happy to be your company until they arrive.” He rounds the table and stands in front of you, blocking your view of the entrance entirely. Exhaling irritatedly, you finally look up at him, your face making an obvious statement that you’re not open to the chit-chat.
“I’m fine, thanks.”
“You definitely seem like you could use some cheering up, let me be the–”
“Oh my God, are you really this dumb? It’s a no, I don’t want to talk to you, now leave the table!”
“Jesus, what a bitch,” he mutters under his breath as he walks away. Normally, you’d definitely call him out, but right now, you’re just staring at the entrance, almost like a maniac as the minutes pass by and there’s still no sign of Harry.
You check your phone, praying there’s gonna be a text at least, saying that he is just late, that he will be here soon, but nothing. It’s dead silent. 
“Fuck,” you breathe out, your feet jumping underneath the table. It’s already twelve past seven. This is not just being fashionably late now.
You wait some more, hoping for a miracle, but it never comes. So does Harry.
When it’s been over thirty minutes you chug down the rest of your cocktail you ordered to make you seem less like a loser and call it a night. On your way out of the bar you pull up your messages with Harry and send him one last text.
Y/N: Thanks for nothing.
And then you block his number, throwing the experience to the very back of your head while you delete Tinder off your phone.
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The annual barbeque is here. Once a year your dad’s home turns into one big fair, he invites most of his employees, investors and partners, throwing a feast in his backyard. It means about five hundred people invade your previous home, where you still spend a lot of your time even though you have your own apartment now. 
You always come as well, because one, your dad loves to show you off and introduce to everyone and two, you usually use this occasion to network a bit. You’ve just opened your own gallery and what’s a better place to promote your art than a backyard full of wealthy investors? Selling your art can seem like an impossible task sometimes, or to be more precise, most of the time. Until your work is not known you make no profit, you need that first purchase that will bring in the rest and get the business rolling. Unfortunately you have not had that one first customer.
Yet.
It’s a sunny Saturday, as if your dad ordered the weather especially for the occasion. There has never been a barbeque with rain or cold before, your dad seems to have control over this as well. There’s endless food and drinks, several activities for children, since it’s a family friendly event and everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, mixing and mingling.
You’re nursing a mojito you mixed yourself, so it’s generous in the alcohol department. Wearing a white sundress you’re trying to have a word with everyone you know and everyone you want to know. 
“Sweetheart!” You hear your father calling out and you spot him a few feet away, waving at you. “Come over here, I want to introduce someone to you!”
Excusing yourself from the conversation you slalom between the guests and reach your father under the oak tree that’s near the tiny pond in the middle of the backyard. Yes, your father has a pond in his backyard, as well as two pools, a jacuzzi and a whole ass greenhouse. He is just that extra.
“Hi daddy,” you smile, joining him as he places a hand to your back and gestures towards a man who is currently turned away.
“Y/N, let me introduce you to the man who will take my place in the future, my successor, if you’d like. This is Harry Styles. Harry, this is my only daughter, Y/N.”
Your body makes the realization faster than your mind. The man turns towards you, but by that moment you’ve already recognized the tattoos you’ve looked at in pictures more than you’d like to admit. Then you see his face and your stomach drops before your brain processes who you’re facing.
Harry stood you up on your first date two weeks ago and you thought you’d never see him, but fate decided to make a joke out of it, because now he is here, in the flesh, looking at you with a just as shocked expression as yours.
You both are quick to gain control back over your faces and Harry is the first one to break the silence.
“Hi, it’s, um… It’s nice to meet you,” he clears his throat as he holds a hand out for you. For a short moment you think of just turning around and walking away, but you don’t want to cause a scene and have your father question your behavior, so instead, you shake his hand, the touch of his skin sending tingles down your spine as you let go of it in a bit of a hurry.
“Yeah, it’s really nice to meet you,” you nod, but can’t hold back the spite in your voice. Luckily, your dad seems to be oblivious to the scene happening in front of him. 
“Remember that awfully long procedure we had to find the perfect person to take over after me? Harry was the only one to survive it and I knew we found our guy.”
Your dad pats him on the shoulder proudly and Harry smiles back at him, but you notice how tense he appears to be, most likely because of your presence. 
“Ah, he seems like a decent, reliable guy,” you add with a forced smile and you know he understands the meaning behind your words.
“He is!” you dad beams. “And Harry, this is my wonderful daughter, she graduated from CalArts, top of her class, she is an exceptional artist, you should see her work!”
He has seen your work. Well, virtually. Naturally, you talked about what you do and he asked you to send pictures and you did.
He loved them. Or at least that’s what he said. Now you question everything he wrote in his messages. 
“I’m sure she is… fantastic.”
The torture continues for a few more minutes before others join the three of you and you have a chance to slip away, which you grab without hesitation. 
It feels like all your blood is pumping in your head, you can’t tell if you’re shocked, angry or disappointed, most likely all of these together. Part of you wants to chug something strong to forget about it all, but then another part wants to read everything on him and tell him to fuck himself.
A tequila shot and some internal raging later you’re inside the house, it’s quiet, everyone is enjoying the weather outside, so you have a chance to settle your thoughts. With another mean cocktail in your hands you’re pacing back and forth in the spacious living room, your racing thoughts making it impossible to calm yourself. 
“Can I at least try to explain myself?”
The voice coming from the sliding door that leads out to the backyard makes you jump and when you turn around you spot Harry standing there, looking awfully good, but you’re way too angry at him to acknowledge it. 
“I don’t think I want to hear it.”
Out of frustration you can’t do anything else than drinking and avoiding to look at him, hoping he might disappear if you ignored him. Unfortunately, it’s not the case, he moves closer.
“Y/N, I’m really sorry about standing you up. It was unacceptable, I know. I had a… um, I had a family situation and I didn’t have a chance to let you know I wouldn’t make it.”
“What situation?” you ask right away, and when he hesitates you know it’s all made up. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I don’t need your apology, you didn’t think it was necessary to tell me you wouldn’t come then, now you’re only apologizing because you were forced to meet me.”
“Y/N, it’s not… it’s not what you think.”
“Oh, I think it’s very much what I think it is,” you let out a bitter laugh. “It’s fine, but I thought you were mature enough to tell me you’re not interested in me anymore. I’m a big girl, I can take the rejection.”
“But I was interested, I still–” He cuts himself off, not sure if it’s fine to say that he is still into you in the situation you found yourself in. “Y/N, I didn’t want to hurt you. This… It’s not how I planned it. I’m sorry.”
You want to stay mad. You want to stand your ground and unleash all your rage at him, but… you can’t. He might have been bullshitting you about why he stood you up, but he truly seems like he feels bad. 
And he really looks way too good.
“Alright. Apology accepted.”
He looks visibly relieved, his shoulders ease and even a tiny smile appears on his lips.
“Thank you. Really. So… Do you want to have a drink now?” he chuckles, but the devilish smirk you flash at him scares him instantly.
“Oh, I said apology accepted. That doesn’t mean we’re fine and back at where we were.”
Before he could say anything or question what you said you walk away, leaving him in a blur. 
You only see him from afar a few times until the end of the barbeque, you catch him staring quite a few times as well and his looks reflect hunger, so you assume your looks definitely live up to his expectations after all. You miss when he leaves at the end, but you know it won’t be the last time you see each other. 
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A plan is formed in your mind about how to teach him a lesson for standing you up. A little game, to be exact. 
Two days after the barbeque you have to meet your dad in his office and you definitely don’t want to miss the opportunity to mess with Harry. You go out of your way to change before heading to the office, wearing a tight, extra short black dress that will surely catch his attention.
With a stack of documents under your arm you stroll into the building as if you owned it. Well, for a while you were set to inherit the business, but when your father realized you’re more into art, he ditched his plans and started looking for his successor. You remember how nervous you were before sitting down with him and telling him you wouldn’t take over the company like he wanted you to. To your surprise, he took it well and you realized he just wants you to be happy, doing whatever your heart desires. 
As a side hustle, you still get involved in some part of the business, just to learn the basic ropes and gain skills you can use in other fields as well, so every once in a while you can be found in the office. Today is one of those days.
The girls behind the front desk smile at you warmly and let you pass by, heading straight up to your dad’s office on the top. Standing in the elevator you check your outfit, making sure it’s not too revealing, but will do the purpose you wore it for. It doesn’t look like you’re going clubbing, but the amount of leg you’re showing will definitely earn you Harry’s attention, just how you planned.
It’s like fate is playing on your side, when you’re approaching the office you spot Harry in there with your dad, a devilish smirk tugging on your lips as you finally reach the glass door, knocking on it gently. They both lift their head up, but the expressions they make are very different. 
While your dad seems happy to see you, gesturing for you to come in, Harry on the other hand seems… shocked to say the least. Most likely not because he is seeing you, but because of how you look. You catch his gaze wandering down your legs right away, his chest rising with a deep breath as you walk inside.
“Hi, sorry to interrupt. I brought the documents you asked for.”
“You’re not interrupting anything, come in!” your dad waves around, rounding his desk to greet you with two kisses on your cheeks.
“Hi Harry, it’s so nice to see you again,” you smile at him charmingly, angling yourself so your legs are perfectly in his view. 
“It’s uh, it’s nice to see you as well, Y/N.” 
The blush on his cheeks is proof that your plan worked pretty well. While chatting with your dad, you keep an eye on Harry and see him practically devouring you with his eyes, his jaw clenches every time you move your weight to one leg and pop your hip out to the side. It’s safe to say he is a fan of your outfit.
“Alright, I better get going,” you sigh and start to pack your stuff when you drop your pen on purpose. The plan was to lean down and tease him even more, but he jumps to your rescue instantly, picking it up for you, but it gets his face to the same level as your thighs and he straightens up faster than the speed of light.
“Here,” he hands you the pen, obviously avoiding looking at you. This is probably the most fun you’ve had in a long time.
“Thank you,” you smile at him, making sure to brush your fingers against his hand as you take the pen from him. “Have a nice day.”
And with that, you stroll out of the office. 
Y/N one, Harry zero.
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You don’t give him much time to recover from your appearance at the office. A few days later, on Friday, you decide to take advantage of your dad’s pool, which is one of the reasons you spend so much time at his. 
And of course because you love him. 
Today however, you have a different reason to parade in his backyard in the tiniest bikini you own. 
Your dad’s office has floor to ceiling windows watching over the glistening pool. Most of the time you try to avoid having a pool day when you know your dad is working from home, but Harry is here today, so that changes everything. 
You saw him arrive a few hours ago from your room’s window and they are still working, so when you’re done with your own business calls you decide it’s time to go for a swim. The neon pink bikini you chose was worn last time in Miami on spring break when you were still in college, a wild weekend you’ll never forget, but you’ve changed since then and it’s not really your style, but it will serve the purpose the best. To help your success you ‘ve also covered your body in tanning oil, making you glisten in the sun.
Putting on your sunglasses you grab a towel and tanning oil and head outside. 
It’s hot outside and you’re already planning to lie in the sun after a swim, the water glistening on your body. Putting on your best poker face you finally walk out and approach the pool. You know this place like the back of your hand, so you know exactly when you come into view from the office. Squaring your shoulders you keep your head high and walk up to one of the sunbeds, dropping your stuff down before striking a not too obvious pose as you put your hair up. Angling yourself just right, you catch a glimpse of what’s going inside and you need everything in you not to start grinning when you spot Harry not far from the window, staring at you like he is about to burst. Your dad is somewhere in the back on the phone, oblivious to the scene that’s happening so close to him. 
The second act starts when you grab the tanning oil and start applying it, rubbing it into your skin, making a show out of it. Oh, how you wish you could see Harry’s face up close, but you have a good guess what’s happening in his mind and it’s very pleasing.
First, you lie down to tan some, normally you cover your head with a towel because of the heat and not care about how you look, but this time you try your best to look as if you just jumped out of a Sports Illustrated catalog. 
Not long later it’s time to jump in the pool. You swim a few laps before emerging from the cold water and returning to your sunbed, all while imagining what could Harry be thinking right now. 
You’re still chilling in the sun when you hear the sliding door open and spot your dad walking out. For a moment you freeze, afraid he might tell you off for using the pool when he is working with someone in his office, but he seems delighted.
“Hey, I have to head out for a quick meeting, I’ll pick up lunch on my way home, want me to grab you something?”
“That would be great, thank you,” you smile at him peeking over the rim of your sunglasses.
“Harry is here, so don’t be surprised if you run into him. He’ll probably stay in the office.”
“Alright.”
With that he turns around and disappears in the garage. You hear the engine start and then he drives away, leaving you and Harry as the only people in the house. Not to make it obvious, you turn to look inside the office, but you’re surprised to see that Harry is not there anymore. Has he left the house as well? Did your plan not work after all?
It’s starting to get too hot outside and you didn’t bring anything to drink so you decide to give up and go inside. Heading into the kitchen all you can think about is a glass of cold lemonade.
Rummaging through the fridge you grab the bowl of fruit salad you made yesterday and brought over and as you’re balancing everything in your hands and pushing the fridge’s door closed with your hips, it scares you when you see Harry standing behind you by the kitchen island.
“Jesus, are you a fucking ninja? I didn’t hear you.”
Walking closer you set everything down to the island and pretend like your pulse is not over the roof. Not just because of the scare, but because he looks incredibly good. FItted pants and simple white shirt, the top few buttons are undone, showing a glimpse of his chest, the sleeves are rolled up, allowing you to check out his tattoos as well. God, if you weren’t trying to teach him a lesson you would be all over him already.
It makes you feel better though that he is definitely checking you out as well. He is not trying to mask it too much, his eyes keep wandering down your body that’s still only covered at the most crucial parts by your tiny swimwear.
“Having a day off?” he leisurely asks, hiding his hands in his pockets as he leans against the island next to you.
“Nope, my work is pretty flexible. I’m mostly my own boss.”
You see him nod from the corner of your eyes as you dig into the fruit salad, trying to act casual and ignore the fact that you’re in a hot pink bikini while he is dressed for work. 
“So how long are we going to play this?” he then asks out of the blue. 
You know exactly what he is talking about, but you won’t give in that easily. With your hands on your hips you turn to face him with an innocent look on your face and you don’t miss how his eyes snap down to your chest, then to your lips before they move back to your eyes.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
A tiny little smile tugs on the corner of his lips as he looks away, out to the terrace where the pool’s glistening surface is probably reminding him of the show you gave him not long ago.
“Is this supposed to be punishment?”
“Did you do something you deserve punishment for?” you tilt your head to the side. 
He opens his mouth to reply, but then decides against it, just stares back at you and you wish you could read his mind. He pushes himself away from the island and starts to walk away, you take it as your wind or this round, so you turn back to your snack, but then suddenly he moves back and cages you between his arms, his hands gripping the counter on either side of you. He is behind you now, not even touching you anywhere, but still, it’s as if he was everywhere on your body. Your breath hitches in your throat when you hear his low voice in your ear.
“If you want to play, I’m happy to play along. But be careful, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”
This should be the perfect moment for a clever remark, but your mind is so fogged up you can’t articulate one solid thought. He moves back and you feel his presence disappear from behind you before you see him walking back towards the office, but before he could disappear he shoots one last comment at you.
“Pink looks good on you!”
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He did not joke when he said he would play along.
So far, only you’ve been playing this game, but since your little pool side performance, Harry has definitely turned it up on his side as well. 
He has been pretty subtle so far. The bastard has noticed that his tattoos make you droop, that you love to check out his backside whenever he is wearing fitted pants and those smirks… they make you weak in the knees every damn time. And he takes every opportunity to use these against you whenever you run into each other. 
You’ve been dropping by your dad’s office a lot more often than usually in hopes of seeing Harry and he’s been a frequent guest at your dad’s house as well. Stolen looks, tiny touches and never ending teasing have become your usual lately and you’ve been enjoying it way too much probably. 
It’s been pretty long since you had a crush and it’s an exciting change to have this little thing going on with Harry, whatever it really is. 
The major change is that you’ve started to text again. A few days after your encounter in your dad’s kitchen the flow started again and you’ve been talking ever since. It’s like before the failed date. 
Two weeks pass by and you realize it’s been only small little games, nothing extreme since your show at the pool. You’ve been trying to come up with a move that will leave him defeated and a shopping spree with Dani is what gives you the idea. 
She always makes you go lingerie shopping, she likes to surprise her boyfriend with new sets and while looking around you find one that catches your eyes and you end up buying it with the pure intention of making it part of your game. 
You’ve never been that big of a fan of fancy lingerie sets, but you do know it’s what you need to spice the game up. 
When you’re finally home you put on the quite revealing black set, fix your hair and even look up what poses are the best if you want to send racy pictures to your partner. Well, Harry is not your romantic partner, but definitely your partner in this game. 
You take quite a few pictures, some in the mirror, some with a timer, your camera roll turns into the newest issue of PlayBoy and it takes even more time for you to choose just one. When you finally settle on one it’s time for the fun part. Opening up the text threat with Harry, you send the photo and a few moments later a text.
Y/N: Sorry, meant to send it to someone else.
And then you just wait. 
For an hour your message stays unread, but then the status changes and your heart jumps into your throat. He saw the message eleven minutes ago, but there’s no response and it sends you down the rabbit hole.
Did your plan work? Is he fighting a major hard-on at the office? Or does he think your attempt to seduce him was ridiculous? Is he gonna lecture you about sending nudes? Why is he not responding???
Minutes turn into an hour and you’re losing hair at this point, regretting you even thought about sending him a spicy picture and you’re about to block his number, getting yourself ready to never see him again when your phone finally chimes with a message and Harry’s name appears in the notification.
HARRY: No. Shit like this can only be meant for me. I’m serious.
You gasp. Almost moan reading his words. And suddenly you forget about the madness you went through in the past hour. It was worth it, it was all worth it because this one message has lit you on fire. 
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His message stunned you so much you didn’t even reply. What could be said after that? 
Got it, sir.
Or maybe…
Don’t tell me what to do.
Oh yeah, that would have really messed with him, but you chose silence and he didn’t double text you either. It stopped the flow of regular messages too and in the next three days you realize how much you miss him when you’re not talking. 
You’re falling for him and you hate that beside the little games, he is not taking the step you want him to. 
A few days after the picture was sent an old friend of yours comes to visit his family in the city and the two of you agree to catch up over dinner. Salim was your study buddy through college, he was always up to spend the entire day in the library whenever you had a theoretical exam to take. Art school wasn’t just painting and creating all the time, unfortunately. After graduation he moved to France with his boyfriend and has been living there for the past years, but he often comes home to visit his loved ones and he always makes time for you as well. You’ve been keeping in touch, but not as regularly as you used to and it’s great to talk when you’re not only in the same time zone but also in the same room. 
“Look at you! You’re glowing!” he greets you when you get out of the Uber and he wraps you in a tight hug. 
“Not as much as you! I see Claude is taking good care of you!” you chuckle, squeezing him back before letting go of each other. He looks stylish as always and you notice he’s starting to dress more and more like Claude, whose style is excellent, by the way. They fit each other really well.
You walk into the restaurant, it’s one of your favorite places and the host shows you your table. You order appetizers and drinks and dig into everything you haven’t discussed over the phone in the past couple of months. 
“Now, tell me about that Tinder guy you last mentioned,” Salim smirks at you over the table and you realize you never told him the whole story, just that you were going on a date with Harry. 
A lot has happened since then.
You update him about the failed date and the meeting at the barbeque and how you’ve been messing with each other since then. 
“You did what?” He almost chokes on his wine.
“I sent him a nude picture,” you repeat yourself with a coy smile. 
“You’re really brave, I would have never had the balls,” he snorts. 
“I needed to step my game up. But we’ve been stuck since then.”
“He’s too busy jerking off to your photo,” he chuckles.
“No,” you smile. “Maybe he is… here.”
Your eyes grow wide when you spot the all too familiar form of Harry by the bar and he is staring at you with a bewildered look that does things to you that you can’t exactly explain. 
“What?” Salim’s face forms a confused frown. 
“He is… literally here. At the bar and don’t turn around, but he is looking straight at us.”
Your body is reacting as if you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to, but nothing like that is happening, so you’re not sure why your reaction is so intense. Luckily, discretion is no problem for Salim, so he turns to see Harry in a way that’s not too obvious. When he looks back at you his eyes are just as wide as yours.
“Holy shit, he really is hot!”
“I know!” you whisper, not sure what to do, because Harry is still very much staring at you. “Fuck, should I say hi?”
“No, let him come to you if he wants to!”
Nodding, you try your best to focus on the food and your friend in front of you, but it’s almost impossible when you can clearly see Harry over Salim’s shoulder. Either he keeps staring at you or you always catch him looking, doesn’t matter, because it makes your stomach drop every time your gaze meets his. 
Then your phone lights up with a text from him.
HARRY: I hope it’s not a date.
“Oh my God, he thinks we are on a date,” you whisper to Salim upon reading the text while keeping your face as straight as humanly possible. 
“Is he jealous?”
“Most likely,” you nod, typing your response.
Y/N: And what if it is?
His reply comes before you could even lock the phone.
HARRY: It better not be.
Y/N: So bossy. Unfortunately, you have no right to hold me back from dating.
“I think I stood my ground, but I feel like I’m gonna have a heart attack.”
Placing the phone back to the table with screen down you’re determined to focus on Salim from now on, but it’s just impossible to move on from those texts. At some point however, Harry disappears from your view and you fight the urge to check your phone to see if he had any response.
While Salim is trying to decide if he wants some dessert or just another cocktail you excuse yourself to the restroom. It’s definitely been an emotional rollercoaster, not just your usual friendly catch-up, you’ll surely be thinking about it for a while. 
Just as you’re about to close the door behind you a foot sticks in and stops you and then everything happens so fast.
The door is forced open and you gasp as you take a step back and watch Harry walk in, close the door behind him and lock it as well. His eyes are burning as he looks at you and you’re just a speechless ragdoll as he pushes you against the cold, tiled wall, caging you between his arms, his hips pressing against yours.
“Who is he?” he hisses at you, his pupils dilated and wild and you’ve never seen him from this close, you’re basically breathing the same air.
“He’s…” You can’t speak or form any words, the air is pushed out of your lungs every time you try to fill them enough to give you the strength to speak up. Fuck, you’ve never seen him like this, but it’s making your pussy throb for sure.
“Answer me or I’ll go out and make a scene to find out.”
“He’s just a friend,” you manage to breathe out. 
“Are you fucking him?”
“No.” You want to tell him that you couldn’t even if you wanted to, because Salim would be more interested in fucking him than you, but the words die on your tongue when he exhales sharply at your answer.
“Fuck your little games, Y/N,” he then says, almost growls as he shakes his head in defeat. 
“Fuck me instead,” you hear yourself saying, but it’s as if it wasn’t you who spoke, yet you still said exactly what you had in your mind. 
HIs eyes are throwing flames again when one of his hands moves to the side of your neck, his thumb moving under your chin to tilt your head upwards, angling your head, but still just teasing you.
“No more games.”
“No,” you shake your head desperately. Your hands have found their way to his waist and you fist his shirt, fighting the urge to rip it off him.
“I mean it, Y/N. It’s all in or nothing. I want you to be mine.”
“I’m already yours.”
His kiss comes so fast your head goes dizzy for a second before you recover and return it just as eagerly as it came. It’s been the longest foreplay, weeks worth of teasing and yearning after each other end now as Harry’s body presses you against the wall with so much force it’s almost too much, but you want him as close as possible. 
Even though you’re certain you’ve lost your mind, your consciousness still knows you’re in a public bathroom and you have limited time. Harry knows too and he wastes no time moving you over to the counter, he hoists you up and sits you on top of the granite next to the sink. You gladly wrap your legs around his waist and lock him against you while his mouth is now exploring the curve of your neck and shoulders, desperately pushing the straps of your dress to the side to reach more of your skin. Your body is reacting instantly to him, your hips roll against him and you feel his bulge between your legs, a tortured moan slipping out of your mouth. 
“Harry!” you beg him, when his hand slips under your dress and into your underwear, his skilled fingers teasing you just right, but you need him fast and hard, this is not the time and place to play games.
“I wish I could take my time with you,” he grunts before playfully biting the soft skin on your neck while unbuckling his belt. “But I’m gonna fuck you fast and you’ll take it like the good little slut you are.”
All you can do is whine and force your legs further apart, watching him push his pants and underwear down in one motion, his cock springing free, ready to ruin you. Harry pushes your dress up your torso and hooks a finger into your panties, pushing the fabric to the side to reveal your drenched pussy. 
“Have you thought about me while touching yourself?” he asks, his other hand going to his cock, lazily tugging on it, precum dripping from the tip.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He jerks on his cock a few more times before spitting on it and pushing inside you without warning. A scream dies in your throat, because you bite into your own hand not to make too much noise, but he is definitely bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with, his erection is filling you up, stretching you like nothing and no one before.
“Don’t whine, I know you can take it,” he pants, his eyes rapidly switching between your face and his cock buried balls deep inside you. 
All you can do is nod before he starts moving. He gives you a few slow thrusts to adjust, but then he picks his pace up and starts slamming into you ruthlessly.
And you love every moment of it.
It’s so animalistic, so intoxicating, your head feels dizzy again and you need everything inside you not to start screaming his name. Normally you need more stimulation and time to feel your orgasm building up in the pit of your stomach, but it’s different with Harry. You can already feel your climax nearing.
“So fucking good, you take me so well,” he preaches you, his hands holding onto your thighs to keep you in place and you curl an arm around his neck to pull yourself closer to him, pressing your lips to his in a messy kiss.
“I wanted to fuck you the moment I saw you in that bar.”
His words reach your brain and you process what he said, but you can’t reply at that moment, because you’re already on the verge of your orgasm.
It doesn’t take long for the both of you to reach your climax, he is the first one but you chase after him just seconds later. It lasts long and he keeps thrusting into you even when it’s dying down. His face is buried in your neck when he finally stops and you both are panting heavily.
When he lifts his head he’s looking at you with hazy eyes, but the smile that tugs on the corners of his lips is something you’ll remember for the rest of your life.
“You said you wanted to fuck me the moment you saw me at the bar,” you repeat his words from earlier now that you can actually form words. Judging from the look on his face he knows why you’re questioning him.
You never met at the bar, he stood you up that night.
“I went there,” he admits. “I saw that other guy flirting with you and… I didn’t think I stood a chance with you. So I left.”
You’re staring back at him in disbelief. All this time you thought he didn’t come because you weren’t good enough for him, but it was the opposite. He was there. He came and wanted to meet you, but lost his confidence because of that random guy.
“You’re the only person who ever stood a chance with me,” you softly say as you reach up to take his face in your hands.
“I thought I was too old for you.”
“But I knew you were older all along,” you chuckle. “It was never an issue for me.”
“I know,” he admits with a sigh. “I fucked up, I’m sorry.” He kisses you softly and it’s mind-blowing how he was fucking you hard just moments ago and now he is treating you so gently.
“I need to go back, Salim will get suspicious,” you sigh as you slip off the counter, trying to fix yourself.
“Oh, your date is waiting for you,” he teases you, pulling his pants back up.
“He is gay, Harry,” you chuckle and watch his expression change.
“Okay, I approve.”
You laugh and pull him down for another kiss.
“Should we talk about this after?”
“I can come over when you get home.”
“I’m afraid we won’t do much talking if you do that,” you grin at him, arching an eyebrow.
“Promise, I’ll be a gentleman for at least thirty minutes. That should be enough for all the talking.”
“Uhuh, alright. See you at mine then,” you nod before slipping out of the bathroom.
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The plates are empty, dinner is now officially nearing its end but you still haven’t broken the news to your dad. 
The news that you and Harry are together.
He is sitting across from you at the table, his hesitant eyes finding your gaze every other minute. He is shitting his pants, you know that, even though you told him your dad will probably take it well. He is not one to stress about such things, but Harry didn’t believe you, he thinks he’ll throw him out of the company and tell you to never see him again.
Absurd. 
Clearing your throat you decide it’s time for the announcement.
“Dad, I want to tell you something,” you speak up and panic flashes through Harry’s face for a moment, but he’s quick to mask it. 
“Alright, I’m listening,” he smiles at you.
“Okay, I’ll just… Um, I want you to know that I’ve been dating someone. It’s kind of… serious,” you add, your eyes finding Harry over the table and you don’t miss the blush on his cheeks. 
“That’s amazing! Do I know this person?” your dad enthuses.
“Well, you know him very well. He is actually sitting here at the table.”
You watch as realization washes over his face, he looks over at Harry and then back at you, while you both wait for his reaction.
Then a tiny smile appears on his face and you know you were right, there was nothing to worry about.
“That’s great news, I’m happy for you.”
Harry exhales in relief and you can’t help but laugh.
“See? I told you,” you smirk at him with a shrug.
“Are you sure you’re alright with it?” Harry asks, still a bit doubtful, but your dad just smiles at him warmly. 
“I’m more than sure, son. Why would I not be alright with it? I trust you with my company, I trust you with my daughter too. Easy as it is.”
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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mayaree-darling · 9 months
Note
Hi i've been binging some of your fics recently and im in love! I saw that you had requests open so I was wondering if you could do scaramouche x fem reader but where reader dresses in jojifuku or other known as cutecore and scaramouche dresses in a baggy 'cool' way and reader gets made fun of for dressing differently?
of scary dog privileges & matcha lattes // scaramouche (modern au)
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pairing: Scaramouche x Cutecore!Reader
synopsis: look, you may be a cute ball of pastels that can test scaramouche's patience, but you're HIS cute pastel lover. but if anyone messes with you, it's okay - his hands were made to be thrown.
from aree: for @amia-69: thanks for requesting and i hope this was satisfactory. i had too much fun with this so i hope you don't mind if it's a tad long with more scenes than you requested. i also made this a bit more feel-good by being a little silly but it’s still mostly serious, i hope you don't mind!
content: slight stalking and bullying scenario (be warned if triggering); very annoyed Scara means swearing; i'm in silly writer mode rn so this is a mix of crack and serious writing; slightly unhinged reader but hey so is scaramouche; praying this ain't OOC; fully accepted this is cringe; fem reader
fic length: 4k~ (unedited)
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Scaramouche isn't dumb. He can tell anyone who sees him is asking it in their head.
How the fuck did you two end up together?
There was nothing soft looking about him besides the hair he inherited from his mother. He was his mother but with sharper lines, edges, and words. His eyes were almost a permanent glare if he didn't look bored or annoyed at everyone and everything. He always seemed to wear dark clothing, accompanied by the right amount of chains or belts here and there to complete the look, but they suited him nicely. If anything, he wore them best than most. If he wore anything less than clothes that didn't hang off his body  he looked uncomfortable. Didn't mean he didn't hear enough older people talking about his choice of clothes though.
So when he first stood next to you on the fruits and vegetables aisle at the grocery store, he realized how you two stood at different ends of the fashion spectrum. He was there with his mother for their weekly food restock and ended up getting left behind when he went to check something on his phone (typical. How may times had this happened?) When he blinked, gone was his mom, and there beside him stood you, looking at a bunch of melons.
"This shit's overpriced, the hell." you grumble it under your breath, but Scaramouche heard it loud and clear. The snort he lets out isn't unnoticed by you and you turn to him, eyebrows raised. You look at him up and down before your eyes land back to his, and he frowns.
Goddamn it, here we go. He's heard his mom talk his ear off about the clothes this morning and he wasn't gonna hear it from anyone else. He opens his mouth, ready to cuss you to next Tuesday, but you beat him to it.
"I like the eyeliner," Scaramouche stares at you incredulously, and almost as a final nail into the coffin that he heard you right, you nod in approval. You tilt your head to the side. "I gotta say though. I think eyeshadow would look a lot better. Maybe... red? Just a bit at the corners. It would look a lot nice with your eye color and would make them pop considering you wear a lot of dark shades."
Scaramouche gapes at you. He's used to getting cussed out or getting the occasional talking to about his choices in life, but fashion advice was the last thing he expected to get from some stranger in the fruits aisle.
"Thanks..." he eventually lets out. He finally takes a moment to look you up and down and wonders how the hell did he not notice you sooner when you stood out from everything like a sore thumb.
Scaramouche didn't know there were so many shades of pink in the world. Or maybe he never noticed since he never wore clothes like that, and if he was honest, he spent time with people who didn't wear that color at all. Seeing it now was like a jumpscare, just a lot softer considering it's not like you posed any actual threat but slightly still as surprising considering people randomly approaching him first was so rare. If you weren't wearing a shade of pink, you were wearing some pastel shade of another color. Pastel blue, pastel purple, white lace here and there. The skirt you wore was so frilly you looked like you were walking around with a pink cloud. You looked... soft. That was the best summary Scaramouche could put together in the amount of time he gave you a once over.
You looked like everything he was not.
"I like... the frills," he inwardly cringed the moment he said it, but he ended up just frowning at you. It was your damn fault for putting him in this position in the first place so why the hell was he the one suffering. It's not his fault he wasn't good at giving other people compliments.
You laugh, and Scaramouche wasn't sure whether he should be glad you didn't take it to heart or be offended that he actually tried his best to give you a compliment only to be shot down. "It's okay. You don't have to force yourself."
Scaramouche just frowned deeper. Now it feels like you're saying he can't give out a compliment at all. He looks you up and down again and just says what comes to his head on the spot. "You look like the cotton candy sold at the fair across the street. Actually, I think you're a lot more pink than that stuff, but still lighter? Can't tell accurately with how many shades you got going on."
He must've said something good enough for you because you're grinning at him the next second. "That's one of the nicer ones people have said to me."
Scaramouche looks at you in disbelief. "How is that even remotely nice?"
"Well, for one, I know you mean that sincerely. Second, I'll have you know I worked hard to get pretty vibrant pinks that weren't too hard on the eyes, so thanks for confirming that!"
"You made that?" You nod, and Scaramouche nods back slowly in approval, actually impressed. "Not bad."
Your eyes land on his watch and you jolt, looking at the time on your phone. You pick a random melon even when he sees you scowl at the price tag and put it into your basket. Nodding once more to him, you turn around and leave. But as he watches you round the corner, you're running back to his side once more before he can even turn away. The sudden look of alarm on your face, so different from the grin and laughter you had on earlier, immediately has him on edge.
"Please help me," you whisper, but there was no one else in the aisle besides a mother and her baby at the far end. He frowns and looks to the side.
"Do I look like I help people." it came out harsher than he intended, but didn't he give you more than he was already willing to give any other stranger? Now you were just taking advantage of him.
"I need a scary dog right now," you said it so casually and seriously he wasn't sure he heard you right. But your voice echoed correctly in his head and he actually takes a step away from you, face incredulous.
"What the fuck did you just call me?" he scoffs, not sure if he was supposed to be offended or it was a compliment from you in some weird way. "The pet shop is right next door. Go get a dog there."
"Please. You know what I mean." you look at him pleadingly and he looks away. No, no, he was not gonna break first. This wasn't his business to deal with. He's done enough for people for the day. Nope.
"Again, go look for that somewhere else. Don't you have a boyfriend to help with this kinda thing?"
You roll your eyes and Scaramouche has half a mind to smack you silly. "If I did, you think I'd be going up to strangers for help?"
"So this is a regular thing, huh?" he takes a step back and you take a step towards him.
"Of course not, you expect this kinda thing to happen sometimes. But I don't want to hide away just ‘cause some people couldn't stay away and mind their own damn business," you shuffle from one foot to another. You cast a hesitant look behind you. His eyes follow.
"What are you even-" he stops. In the corner where he last saw you turn, a hooded man hovered over the bread aisle. For a shelf that only had five pieces of loaves left he was taking his time picking, so that only meant one thing. Scaramouche watched as the man glanced over once in your direction before seemingly turning back to the bread with fake focus.
"I thought I was imagining it. But he’s giving me the evil eyes," your voice is a whisper again.
That's unpleasant. Scaramouche straightened his posture and looked at you directly. If it's a scary dog you needed then so be it.
"What are you waiting for, then?" his voice was loud, not enough to be too distracting, but enough to carry over to the asshole who decided to be a creep for the day. Scaramouche kept his eyes on you. "You need anything else? I got the car running. Let's go if you're ready."
You look up at him like he was a fucking hero and Scaramouche all but does his best to not look as pompous as he felt. He sees the guy step back a little from his view, most likely thinking twice about following you when you're suddenly with company. He all but stares the fucker down until he leaves his line of sight.
Scaramouche breathes a short sigh of relief and he sees you do the same. He wanted to leave it at that, but if the guy was planning to follow you around the mall, he'd probably stick around a bit more. So fucking annoying. Not you, though. Although you were a bit annoying, you've probably been through more today than he had. He takes your wrist lightly.
"Where to next? I have family waiting outside."
You smile, relaxed and familiar. He holds your wrist, but you guide him around the store for a few other things before heading to the counter. When you leave the shop, plastic bags in hand, he motions for you to head to the parking lot and you follow albeit hesitantly, only visibly relaxing when you see a woman standing by a car who looks eerily similar to your rescuer.
"Oh? You have a friend." Scaramouche bites back the retort that almost slips past his lips. What did she mean by that? Of course he had friends. He'd never introduce them to her and her to them but he preferred keeping those two sides of his life away from each other.
"She had a bit of a problem and needed some help," she looks at you once and back to him. She gives him a knowing look but Scaramouche could swear on his grave that what she was thinking was vastly different from what was really going on.
"I see. Will your friend be joining us for dinner?" she looks at you with a soft smile and you return it. Scaramouche has half a mind to facepalm himself, he thanks what shred of patience he has left that he doesn't because you give him a glance.
"Thank you for the offer, but I should really be heading home," you turn to him fully and take the plastic bags from him. "Thanks for... helping me."
He opens his mouth but before he can say anything, you give him a knowing nod before quickly walking away. He watches you walk a few paces before he hears his mom clear her throat. He looks to her, already scowling.
"Don't tell me you're just gonna let her go like that?"
"What do you want me to do?"
Ei sighs. "At least make sure she gets a ride? If you walked her all the way over here, I can guess you wanted to give her a ride home. But that's out of the question now."
"Why are you so invested in this anyway? I just met her today."
"Oh, really? I thought you already knew each other." Ei hums as she rummages her purse for the keys. "You look like a pair. Not quite sure what kind, but definitely a pair of something. I think she’s rather cute."
He curses silently before jogging to catch up to you. He finds you standing by the bus stop. When you turn to him, you smile.
"Thanks for helping me again."
"You know I was planning on dropping you off at your place, right? Thought that was kinda clear with what I said at the grocery."
"Nah. I'd bothered you enough. Don't wanna bother your sister either." you grin at him, shuffling from foot to foot again, now with a pep in your step.
"First off, that was my mom, not my sister." you repeat the word 'mom' silently before looking at him with barely suppressed admiration, and Scaramouche barely holds himself back from groaning. "Second, it's fine. You're not scared that guy's gonna follow you home?"
"I'll be in a bus full of people. If he tries anything I'll scream my head off." you laugh. Scaramouche can hear a shred of doubt in your voice, but he doesn't say anything else. There's a pause of silence before you look at him from the corner of your eye and hum. "Y'know. I don't know how to properly thank you."
He waves you off. "Forget about it."
"How about I treat you?" you turn to him fully, like he just didn't brush you off. "I know a cafe by the train station that makes really good matcha lattes."
"What makes you think I even like matcha?" he sighs, but he thinks about it for a second. And then another second. Scaramouche blinks before he turns to you with a deadpan face. "You're just trying to take advantage of my scary dog privilege or whatever you call it."
"Maybe? Who knows?"you grin mischievously. "I'm serious about treating you to a meal, though. I owe you one. If you want you can just take the meal and forget about ever seeing me again."
Scaramouche sighs. Surely, it wouldn't hurt...?
"Alright then. When's our date?" You blink at him in surprise before laughing.
When people ask him how you two got together, he says you treated him to matcha for saving your life and you just hit it off. When they ask you to confirm, you excitedly show a picture of the two of you in the cafe of your first date. Should anyone try to mention the foam of milk from the matcha latte gathered around the top of his lips or the cat ears you had graciously edited onto the top of his head, Scaramouche is quick to silence them with a murderous look, almost the very same one he has on in the picture.
Some might think why doesn’t he just ask you to stop showing the photo to people? It’s enough for you to confirm that you got together over drinks, end of story. But as he watches and listens to you recount how you met again, the smile on your lips and the laughter that slips past and the grin as you show all the pictures - he can’t imagine saying no.
Why would he make you stop when you’re so happy?
That’s what he thinks now, as he sees the frown on your face.
He thought people already understood. He let you tell the story over and over even though it got on his nerves time and time again because it made you happy, yes, but also so people saw who they were messing with if they ever even thought of messing with you. This city was a small one - if people didn’t know him from his mother, they surely have heard of him and his friends. This city was the kind where word travelled fast if you were even in any social circle. If not for that, they would have surely seen him walking around with you with all the places you wanted to see.
He underestimated how dumb people could be.
matcha | are you close? Scary Dog <3 | give me a couple of minutes. Just got out the bus matcha | ok | um not to pressure u | can you hurry | just a bit | sorry
Scaramouche rolled his eyes before frowning. He pocketed his phone and all but jogged to the park. From a distance, he could see two guys in front of the bench he was sure was where you were supposed to meet. It was the bench he and you stopped at to exchange numbers, so it became a place that meant a lot to you. When he was close, the group of guys looked at his direction, snickering, before heading to the next bench over. Finally, he has a perfect view of you, your head down, holding on to your drink and phone like a lifeline. His drink almost lay forgotten beside you.
He quickly grabbed the drink from your side and sat beside you. From the corner of his eye, he can see the group of guys stealing glances at the both of you, not even trying to hide their laughter and sneers. He’s gripping his drink almost as hard as you were.
“You’re here,” you smile at him, but as quickly as it’s on your face it drops back to a wobbly frown and you look away. “Sorry if I made you hurry, I-”
“What happened? Did they do anything to you?” his voice comes out in a rush but it’s soft, as comforting as he can muster with the situation at hand. He can feel his blood boiling, his senses on high alert.
“No, no, they were just being mean and annoying and I-” you shakily pocket your phone and hold on to his hand. He can feel you shaking and he grit his teeth.
“What did they do? What the fuck did they say?” he was gripping onto the cup so tight he would’ve been surprised that it hadn’t broken yet if he wasn’t so focused on you.
“Nothing important.” he squeezes your hand, not enough to hurt, but to make sure you know that he’s here now. You didn’t need to hide anything from him. You just need to tell him. You look up at him and purse your lips. “They just said-”
He hears laughter and immediately whips his head towards the two guys, feeling absolutely feral. The closest one sitting on the edge of the bench flinches for a second, before he meets his glare with a sneer.
“I was wondering what kind of parents would leave their little princess walking around alone like that,” the guy smirks and Scaramouche can feel you flinch under his touch. “But another kid just showed up to pick them up. Where are your parents, kiddies?”
The two guys laugh and Scaramouche can feel his teeth crack with how hard he was biting down. He stands up but you hold on to his hand.
“Just let it go. Let’s just get out of here.” you mumble to him, but the guys heard perfectly.
“Let’s just get out of here~” the other guy copies your voice, all high pitched and mocking and everything that Scaramouche knew you were very much not. “She dresses like a little princess and sounds like one. Aren’t you too old for that?”
They howl with laughter and slowly, Scaramouche feels you let go of him. He looks to you, concerned, but you meet his eyes, your face blank but he knows that look.
Go for it.
With quick strides he’s right beside their bench. They stop for a moment to look at him.
He looks at the matcha latte in his hand and sighs.
What a waste of a drink. You got it for him, too.
“What are you- ARGH!” Scaramouche shakes the cup empty of all it’s content, making sure that each of the guys’ heads had at least a bit of the matcha drink. But Scaramouche was sure he got them both - it was a large drink, after all.
“Pick on someone your own size, you lil’-” the man closest to him goes to stand, but just as he does, Scaramouche raises his own leg and drives a kick right on his knees.
*CRACK*
The man screams in pain, forced to his knees and tending to his newly acquired wound. The other guy stands to try and help, but his form quickly falters as Scaramouche takes one step towards him, eyes blazing. The man doesn’t move, too frightened, as Scaramouche leans down to the man on the ground.
“There you go. Now we’re the same height.”
Scaramouche feels a pull on the back of his shirt and he’s ready to throw his arm back to punch when he sees you. He lets you pull him and you make a break for it as he hears the man crying in pain behind him.
Trees turn to buildings around you both as you leave the park and head to the city center, stopping only when you’re sure the coast is clear. You both take in large breaths of air after running for so long, but even the silence does nothing to make him realize the gravity of what just happened. That’s not the case for you, though.
“Oh, God, I didn’t think you’d do that. The drink, yeah, but...” you say between breaths. You take a shaky laugh and rub the back of your neck. “Was the kick really necessary, though?”
Was that necessary? Scaramouche knew the answer for himself. He walks closer to you.
Why would he let anyone destroy whatever you two had going on? You came as a pair.
"Scara, what are you-" he stops in his tracks and looks you in the eyes. There's a pause before he lifts his hand and flicks your forehead.
"Talk smack, get whacked."
"I didn't even say anything! And why are you hitting me?!"
There’s a pause as he runs his teeth over his lower lip.
“Hey… you.”
“Wow, I thought by now you knew my name,” you sneer at him. “You telling me you still don’t know it?”
He inhales before he says your name softly. You gape at him, suddenly aware of how serious he’s gotten. “You’re happy with… yourself, right…?”
“Of course I am. That’s not even worth asking about,” there’s a doubtful look on your face, but not because of your answer. Your apprehension stems from where this conversation was going.
“Keep being happy, then.” Scaramouche rubs the knuckles of your hand with his thumb before pressing a kiss to your palm. He smirks at you. “If anyone else says otherwise, a drink over their head and broken kneecaps are the least of their concerns.”
“Now, come on,” he doesn’t let go of your hand and you make no mention of it. “We still gotta stop by Nahida’s, right?”
==✿==|✧••❀••✧|==✿==  
❀BONUS❀
“Your mom’s gonna kill us when she finds out what you did.”
“Nah. She’d be fine with it.” Scaramouche scoffs.
“Find out what?” Ei appears by the kitchen doorway and looks at you both expectantly. You turn to Scaramouche, eyes wide with fear, but he doesn’t flinch or even stop chopping the melon.
“I poured a drink over some guy who said Matcha was acting too much like a kid,” Scaramouche answers easily, passing you a melon slice. “Also might have broken their knee, but we didn’t get to see.”
“I’m really sorry, Ms. Ei-”
“That’s it?” Ei leans on the kitchen counter and to your surprise, looks at Scaramouche with disappointment. “You should’ve broken a bone or two more.”
You blink as they continue talking about how best to have handled the situation; all their solutions involved hurting someone.
Well, you guess Scaramouche must have had to got it from someone in the family.
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✨ Masterlist ✨
Taglist: 💛@wonpielle 💜@shikanosn
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.
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phantom-0-writer · 1 year
Text
I actually thought of this prompt like forever ago and i rly wanted to write a whole story for it but i couldn't think of a plot that would stick to it and make sense without adding too many outside elements and in my opinion over saturating the story. BUT i do have a bunch of scenes of danny and damian in my head about this also also some danny and other batfam members.
So anyways your order has been delivered...
original prompt: Gotham Academy's Mentorship Program
scene two: tim's arch nemesis
table of contents
-------------
scene 01: damian's not-so-very-bad day
“Father, you wanted to speak with me.” Damian said, trugging into his Father’s study late into the afternoon per Pennyworth’s behest. 
Father looked up from his work at Damian’s arrival, Drake gave him a look of annoyance that Damian returned with a sneer. “Damian.” Father greeted as he reached Father’s work station. “I spoke with your principal earlier today.” Damian huffed and crossed his arms in defiance at whatever accusation he was about to be handed, “Put your frown away, you're not in trouble.” Father chuckled lightly. 
Damian frowned. He was not a child, he did not need to be treated like one. 
“There’s a mentorship program at your school.” Father started, Damian raised an intrigued brow at him. 
Perhaps Father had succeeded in seeing his potential, “Well I suppose I wouldn’t mind mentoring one of the many underlings at the so-called academy.” Damian sighed, letting his arms fall to his side, as he looked up at his Father. 
Father blinked at him, processing what he had said, then glanced at Drake who looked like a fraying rope length away from bursting into laughter. “The mentorship program… it’s for you.” Father tried hesitantly. 
“Yes.” Damian nodded in understanding. 
There was an uncomfortable silence from Father.
“He means that you're the one getting mentored.” Drake laughed at him, shoulders shaking. 
Damian turned to Father. But the denial never came. “What!” Damian couldn’t help scream in outrage. “You want me to get mentored by some hillbilly civilian who can't tell a katana from a wakizashi?” He slammed his hands on Father’s table. 
Father looked at him with disapproval, but said nothing, not caring enough to discipline Damian. 
“Hillbilly civilian.” Drake croaked from the corner of the room, draping himself dramatically over one of the side sofas. 
“You’re to meet him first thing tomorrow when you get to school. Here’s his student profile, if you're interested.” Father handed him a singular paper. 
“Father I do not need-” 
“It’s already been arranged Damian, atleast give it a try.” Father said with a sigh, picking up his files again in a silent dismissal of Damian. 
The paper crumpled slightly as Damian stormed to his room.  
Daniel James Fenton. 
“Let’s see how long you last.” Damian eyed the picture of the smiling teen. 
---
“Have a good day at school Masters Tim, Thomas, and Damian.” Pennyworth bid, as they all got out of the car. 
“Later, Alfred.” Thomas waved at the butler as he drove off. 
They all walked in the same direction to enter their classrooms, when Drake stopped him in his path. “Ohoho, and where do you think you’re going Damian?” he asked cheekily.
“Tsk.” He was hoping to be able to make it to his class before the others noticed, then continue to evade the principal and other faculty if need be required. To be foiled so early into his plan, furthermore by Drake, was humiliating. 
“Aren’t you supposed to be in the principal’s office?” Drake continued to smother his victory over Damian. 
“I was just on my way.” He huffed, turning around annoyed. Drake and Thomas snickered as he retreated. 
Damian knocked on the familiar oak doors. “Come in.” Mr. Carson called from the other side. Damian entered, and plopped down on the same chair he sat in every time he had been sent here. “Ah Damian. Goodmorning.” He waited for a reply, but when he realized he wouldn’t be getting one he continued on, “Mr. Fenton should be here any minute, but I’m glad you were able to come here on your own accord.” Mr. Carson talked as he hung up his jacket and took a seat at his chair. 
Damian could only watch the seconds tick by as he sat in that office. He wondered absentmindedly if Fenton didn’t show up would he be free. The knock at the door decimated all hopes Damian had for that. 
“Ah, that must be Mr. Fenton.” Mr. Carson mused out loud, “Come in.” 
Fenton entered the room hesitantly, greeting Mr. Carson with a small smile. Fenton was a scholarship student and held reasonable grades so his intellect was not to be underestimated, though often simply being able to score well on tests did not translate to having adequate life skills. Fenton was taller than Drake, but still average, dark hair, tanned skin, gray-blue eyes. When Damian’s supposed mentor looked at Damian for the first time since he had entered the room, Damian couldn’t help but feel like he was caught in a stare off with a beast. 
The way Fenton examined his surroundings reminded Damian of the League of Assassins. Careful, analytical and tactical. All things Damian had excelled in. But there was something different about Fenton than what Damian had often seen in the League. His eyes were softer than those that had trained Damian. Damian couldn’t understand why his eyes looked like that. 
Fenton smiled at him in a way that was likely meant to be kind, “Hi, you must be Damian. I’m Danny.” He stuck out his hand for Damian to shake. 
Damian did not take the hand, instead he turned to principal Carson, “When can I leave?” He asked board, subtly eying Fenton’s reaction in his peripheral vision. 
“We have to iron out the finer details and the both of you will be free to go until we see each other for our weekly check in every Friday.” Principal Carson started, “Mr. Fenton why don’t you take a seat. 
Undeterred by Damian’s lack of interest, Fenton took a seat. Mr. Carson explained to Fenton his responsibilities as a mentor and what would be expected of him, Fenton in turn nodded along attentively. After his long explanation of the whole program the both of them were free from his office, and excused from classes until lunch to “get to know each other better”.
Damian translated that to having until lunch to show Fenton that he was out of his depth and have him running with his tail between his legs. 
“So…” Fenton drawled trying to buy time to think of something adequate to say no doubt, “How about we go to the library to hang out?” Fenton offered. 
Damian simply huffed in agreement as they made their way to a pair of sofas tucked between the many rows of books. 
“So, Damian, uh, what do you like to do after school?” Fenton asked unoriginally. 
Damian turned so he could meet Fenton eye-to-eye. “Train.” He said honestly. If he plans on scaring him off then leaning into the superficial things he learned in the League would do him well. 
“Oh, you do sports?” Fenton asked inquisitively. Damian was momentarily thrown off by his show of genuine interest in his personal life, but Damian quickly collected himself. Fenton was merely putting on an act to get him to open up, Damian would be a fool to fall for it. 
“No.” He scoffed at the thought of sports, “I train for battle,” He made sure to put as much confidence as he could in his voice. Oftentimes in the past when he had told his peers of his activities they had brushed him off and laughed at him, Damian wondered if Fenton would have a similar reaction. 
“Hardcore.” Fenton nodded in awe.
Damian blinked, “You believe me?” He found himself whispering. 
“Well, yeah.” Fenton responded as if it were the most obvious thing, in fact, he seemed confused as Damian’s bafflement. 
Damian quickly collected himself, “Well of course you should believe me it’s the truth, I’m a highly skilled blade user.” He nodded to himself. 
“Blade user, huh? Do you prefer katanas or wakizashi? Or a classic long sword maybe.” Fenton asked eying Damian as if it would help him find the correct answer. 
“Katanas obviously.” Damian scoffed, “They’re incredibly balanced, strong, and give you incredible control over your attacks. Wakizashi are also a good option if you prefer close combat and if you’re fighting in an area with a lot of obstacles.” Fenton hummed and nodded at his explanation, and Damian found himself continuing, “Long swords are originally from the Bavaria and Switzerland regions during the medieval times-”
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