#and enjoy their company and fawn over them and --

[phoenix-flamed]

Me, working on replies to things on here.

Friends in a group chat discussing Pokemon.

Me, getting distracted from writing by thinking about how I should use Lilligant as my "OOC faceclaim" thingy: .

[stevesherdaddynowlover]

indifferent [s.h.] 18+

an: heyyyy me again so yeah could not stop thinking about a pathetic steve so here we are!! enjoy and feel free to send suggestions, concepts, or just chat!!

side note i listened to i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys on a loop while writing this so do with thag what you will!

masterlist here!!

summary: you and steve are coworkers and while you try (and fail) to act like he doesn’t exist, he’s a little obsessed with you and would do anything to have your attention

(fem!reader x steve harrington)

warnings: angst, fluff, cursing, public teasing (nothing too crazy), jealous reader, dirty talk, f masturbation, fingering, biting, kissing, spit, handjob MDNI!!!!!

wc: 15.5k

When it came to Steve Harrington, you were indifferent. 

You didn’t fall in with the group of girls who fawned over him like some king, worshiping the ground he walked on and giggling at his attempts at jokes. But you didn’t fall in with the other group either. The ones that hated him, that called him names and rolled their eyes when he walked in the room with a smile on his face. 

So you fell somewhere in the middle. To you Steve Harrington was your coworker, someone you often had to pick up the slack for or cover for when he was running late. You wouldn’t call him a friend but wouldn’t say he was your enemy either. 

The arrangement the two of you had worked well for you. You’d cover for him or save his ass when needed, and in turn he’d leave you alone. Well sometimes he would. You didn’t mind him but sometimes it seemed like he could go on forever and you just…it drove you a little crazy, okay? He was good about leaving you be, making small talk for a little before the both of you quieted down and went about your shift. 

Part of this arrangement was you teasing him until his cheeks burned and his felt fuzzy, but that was neither here nor there. 

But sometimes you think he just couldn’t help it. He’d start going on about something and then it would be 45 minutes later and he’d still be going. You let him do this about once or twice a week. You didn’t mind him or his company, so if it made him happy to ramble on every once in a while you could live with that. He was a yapper and you were quiet. You would hum along to something you’d heard on the way to work and entertain his chit chat for a few minutes but that was really it. 

Did that mean you couldn’t appreciate that he was actually really pretty? Of course not! He had dimples that made him seem boyish and sweet, even when he was being a menace. His hair was perfect, especially after he’d spent the day running his hands through it a million and one times. His lips were pouty and pink and so what if you stared at them when he was droning on about something? A perfect nose that you’d admired the slope of more times than you could count when he was sitting beside you going through returns. 

He was pretty. You wouldn’t deny that. But that was it. No more, no less. It didn’t mean you liked him or wanted him or would fall to your knees for him like half of Hawkins did. Sure, you passed the time at work by teasing him and making him squirm, but it was only because you were bored and he was there, all pretty and willing. 

You were indifferent. 

              ****************************************

Steve liked you. 

If you were in the same room as him he couldn’t help but to watch you. He didn’t know if you saw him and he couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d watch the way you’d tuck your hair behind your ear once every few minutes. He’d watch you scrunch your nose when you were reading and pout your rosy lips when sorting through dvd’s. God you were just so pretty. 

He wanted your attention all the time, he craved it. He knew he looked like a little lovesick puppy the way he followed you around and hoped you’d smile at him or indulge his ramblings every now and then. 

Pathetic. That’s what he was when it came to you. Sometimes you were a little mean to him but he liked it, loved anything you’d give him. He would even show up late on purpose sometimes just to hear you scold him! 

“M’not always gonna be here to cover for you, Harrington. Be a big boy and get to work on time.”

His cheeks would be pink and he’d give you a shy smile, promising this was the last time but you both knew better than to believe that. You didn’t put up with his bullshit, you called him out when he needed it and you didn’t try and act like somebody you weren’t around him. He loved it. 

Like today, you’d barely come in the door before he was on your heels, going on about some party from the weekend before and how it was sooo lame and that he didn’t have any fun. He’s so occupied with his rambling he doesn’t realize you’ve stopped until he slams into your back, hands coming up to grip your shoulders so you don’t both fall over. 

Your hands grip the counter just in time and he expects you to turn around and gripe at him, scolding him like a toddler who’d been on your heels but you don’t. You huff a laugh and playfully shove at his shoulder, shaking your head. 

“Jesus, Harrington. Maybe I need to get you a leash, hm?” 

And maybe Steve likes that a little too much because he can feel the tips of his ears burning and blush working its way up his neck and covering his cheeks in a pink that makes him squirm. 

He watched you quirk an eyebrow at him, a knowing smirk on those lips he’s dreamed about for months and he wonders why he’s not more embarrassed, why his heart is racing and his cock is swelling in his pants. Fuck.

“On second thought, I think maybe you’d like that a little too much.” 

              *************************************

One thing you love about working with Steve is teasing him. You’ve done good to not let him get too close to you, staying neutral when it comes to his antics but you can’t help the giddiness you feel watching him blush and squirm when you’re mean to him. You’ve come to learn he likes when you embarrass him. 

You’re embarrassed to admit it makes you feel a little powerful, a little special when you make him this way. He’s not the big, bad, ‘King Steve’ he was in high school when he’s in front of you, oh no. You think he’s quite pathetic the way he’s practically attached to your hip and you relish in the way he hangs onto every word you give him, especially considering you don’t give him much. 

Like today you’re perched on a stool at the cash register, barely working oscillating fan doing little to cool you down when the ac is shitty, pushing around warm air that makes your thighs stick together and leaves a sheen of sweat on your forehead. You hate the heat, but what you don’t hate is the way Steve’s eyes are glued to your thighs, watching closely every time you readjust or a bead of sweat slides down your leg. 

“Careful, Steve, I won't be happy if you drool on my leg.” That snaps him out of it, shoulders thrown back as he whips his head up to your face and oh yep! There’s those red cheeks you’ve come to like so much. 

He opens his mouth to say something, probably nothing that would make sense but you spare him from trying to explain his wandering eyes, reaching down into your bag to pull out your next bit of entertainment for the day. 

This’ll be good.

Out of the corner of your eye you see him watching you closely and you can’t help the smirk you wear when your fingers find what you were looking for, wrapping around it and pulling it out for Steve to see. You don’t miss the way his lips part or the way he grips the counter in front of you. 

“They’re my favorite,” you wave the cherry blow pop in front of you like you’ve found gold, smirking at the way his eyes follow it through the air, “I only have the one but I can share, I guess.” 

It would be rude of you to not offer him any. You might tease and be mean, but you certainly weren’t rude!

Ripping the wrapper off you waste no time, sticking the sweet treat in your cheek, throwing away the trash and swinging your legs around so you’re face to face with Steve, knees pressed against his as your feet dangle off the stool. 

Maybe you could blame the way you make a show out of it on the lack of customers today. You’ve been here for 4 hours and only a handful of people have come in. Yeah, that’ll do. That’s why you pull it from your mouth with a pop that makes him flinch, lolling your tongue around the candy in a way that makes his eyes glaze over. You can hear him gulp when you hollow your cheeks and close your eyes, pretending like the taste of artificial cherry is what’s making your ears buzz and your heart race. 

Dragging the blow pop from your mouth you gasp, letting your tongue swipe against your bottom lip that you’re sure is shiny with spit. “Oh, where are my manners! Here ya go, Harrington, have a lick.” 

Not giving him a second to react, you surge forward, pushing the sucker against his lips before he has the chance to open, smearing the stickiness and your spit around his mouth and smiling wide at the sight of him, a tint of red around his pouty lips that suits him well. 

“Messy boy, aren’t you?” You swipe your thumb over his lips, collecting some of the mess and you can see the way his tongue peaks out and you know he’s dying to let it touch your thumb. You pull back before he can, popping your thumb in your mouth and humming around it as if it’s the blow pop itself. 

“Told you I could share!” 

You could be indifferent to him and still want to make him melt to his knees for you, right? 

             **************************************

Steve thought about the cherry blow pop incident for weeks. He was surprised he didn’t cum in his pants like a teenager when the spit soaked treat touched his lips or when he watched you suck on your thumb after it swiped across his mouth. 

That was just one example of how you tortured him, how he loved it. He’d had to go home that night and barely made it through the front door before he was pulling his cock out and picturing you on your knees in front of him, teasing him for being a “messy boy.” 

You had no idea. 

This shit would happen, these events that Steve was positive were chemically altering his brain chemistry, and he wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you? You’d do something like that, something so hot it was engraved in his mind forever and then five minutes later it would be as though it never happened. You’d smirk at him, go back to what you were doing and spend the rest of the day ignoring him or giving him one word responses while he begged at your feet for a scrap of attention. 

He really was like a puppy. 

So he was confused, beyond confused on if you were friends, if you wanted him…he just didn’t know what to make of it. He hadn’t seen you act this way with anyone else and it made him feel…special. God he was pathetic. 

The problem with all this was that he wasn’t entirely sure you didn’t hate his guts. I mean yeah, you’d tease and scold him when he was being an idiot and you were mean but never cruel or malicious. But you also never really went out of your way to start a conversation, never really cared to keep one up with him either. You rarely smiled at him, which killed him, because he saw the way you’d laugh at something Robin said or the amusement dancing in your eyes when the kids came in to raise hell. You never let him have it though, and fuck he wishes you would. All he got were teasing smirks and he wasn’t complaining about them, not one bit, but he wanted to see if he could make you all sweet and mushy like everyone else did. 

There’s been a few times he’s caught you staring but you never back down, never look embarrassed to have been watching him and he wonders if you were staring so hard to put a curse on his bloodline or something! He wouldn’t mind if you were, the feel of your eyes on him somewhat satiate the craving he has for you. 

He’s thinking about you again, just like always. In fact he’s so deep in thought, leaned forward letting his chin rest in his palm that for once he doesn’t notice you come up behind him. 

He wishes he would have noticed you because then maybe he could have prepared himself to talk you and then maybe he wouldn’t have fucked everything up the way he did. Maybe it would’ve gone differently and ended without you in tears and him feeling the world's biggest douche bag. 

“Dreamin’ about me, Harrington?” 

“Aren’t I always.” He meant for it to come out teasing—but it didn’t. Now you were staring at him and he was staring out the window, the tips of his ears burning and he wished he could swallow his own tongue. 

“Anyways, any chance you’ll cover my shift this Friday?” 

“Why? Where are you going?” Full on pouting now he finally met your gaze. You never missed a shift, in fact you were the only one that anyone could count on to pick up extra shifts. 

“Who are you, my daddy?” 

His fingers twitched on the counter in front of him and neither of you missed the way his throat bobbed. Jesus Christ you made him crazy. “If you must know, I have a date and Friday is the only day that works.” 

Wait—what? You had a date? With someone who was not him. Based on the way his heart dropped to his ass, he realized he might want far more than just your attention. His throat clogged as he looked at you, waiting as patiently as possible for his answer but fuck a date? You’d never gone on one as long as he’d known you—well that he knew of. 

“But…you don’t go on dates.” 

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

Oh he was fucked now. He’d opened his big mouth and pissed you off—not in the way he’d liked either. “Well I just, I just meant I’ve never seen anyone ask yo—I didn’t think anyone…or you…I’ve never seen you go on one so I just figured you didn’t.” His foot could not get any further down his throat. He was fucking this up royally, but he was flustered! The pretty girl he liked was going out with someone, god knows who, and his feelings were a little hurt, even if he didn’t have the right! 

“Forget it.” Any amusement you’d held towards him vanished, something else passed over you that he recognized as hurt and then anger. Lots of anger. 

“Wait! M’sorry, I didn’t mean it like tha—”

“No you wait, Harrington. I don’t care what you think or what you think you know, it’s none of your business. I didn’t ask for you to question whether it was possible someone could like me enough to take me out, I asked if you’d cover my shift. Which—by the way—is not a big ask considering I cover your ass at least two times a week! But forget it, asshole, I’m sure my date was a fluke anyways, right?” 

Before he could apologize or even blink you’d stormed away, slamming the break room door behind you. Shit he was an idiot! A huge, massive, blubbering idiot who’d made you more mad than he’d ever seen. His words got all jumbled around you anyways let alone when he was jealous over someone else getting to take you out. 

He’d fucked up big time and was just sure you were cursing his bloodline now. 

                 *********************************

Big, angry tears rolled down your cheeks in the employee bathroom you’d locked yourself in for the last twenty minutes. You were pissed, livid even, but more than that you were hurt. Which was only making you more mad, because why the hell did Steve Harrington have the power to hurt your feelings! He wasn’t anyone to you but a coworker, maybe an acquaintance, and yet here you were crying in the bathroom at work because he…what? Didn’t think you were pretty enough or cool enough or—whatever he fuckin’ thought—to date? 

Okay, sure he didn’t say that exactly, but how else were you supposed to take his blubbering. And yeah, for the most part you were quiet and reserved and didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have feelings for godsake. 

At the end of the day Steve was a guy, a cute guy that you’d admired for his beauty and wouldn’t deny that he was overall sweet and kind, and you were a girl, a girl who apparently was not meant for dates. 

And that hurts your feelings more than you’d care to admit. 

A knock on the door had you wiping at your cheeks furiously, though at this point nothing would be able to hide your red cheeks and swollen eyes. “Who is it?” You cringed at how your voice sounded cracked and whiny. 

“It’s Robin,” Oh thank god. Thank fucking god it wasn’t Steve. “Dingus is out here looking like he’s about to have a meltdown but won’t tell me what’s up, just said you were back here and that I should come check on you.” 

Taking a deep breath you pulled the door open just enough for Robin to slip in, quickly closing it back behind her and trying not to let your bottom lip tremble when she turned to look at you and gasped. You weren’t even a crier! What was going on! 

“Woa—shit I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry. Are you okay? What happened? Did they get Steve too, he seriously looks two seconds away from curling up on the floor.” Hands immediately covering your face you sigh, willing no more tears to fall until you can get out of here and into your own bed. 

“It’s not, I just—I really don’t wanna talk about it right now, okay? Do you think you could start early and cover the rest of my shift? I promise I’ll make it up to you I just…Rob I just need to go home.” 

“Of course I can, are you crazy? There’s nothing to make up. Go! I’ll tell Harrington you’re not feeling well and he’s stuck with me for the rest of the night,” giving you a reassuring squeeze as you gathered your things you’d grabbed on the way in here you gave her what you hoped came off as a thankful smile, “and when—if—you wanna talk about this, I’m here. Just so you know. I can listen sometimes despite what they all say.” 

You nodded, squeezing her hand and giving yourself one last look in the mirror, grimacing at the utter mess you saw staring back at you. Hiking your bag on your shoulder you fled the safety of the bathroom and all but ran to the door. 

Steve was with a customer, the polite smile he had on his face completely wiped off when he caught a glimpse at your puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. You didn’t spare him one look, practically running for the door without uttering a word in his direction. 

God he felt like a piece of shit. He doesn’t think he’d ever seen you upset, let alone crying. He’d fucked up bad and didn’t know how to fix it when he’s sure you wouldn’t give him the time of day now. 

He’d have to find a way to make this better, the pit in his stomach growing when he thought of you being upset—hurt—because of him. 

He stood there staring at the door until Robin came up beside him, a concerned look on her face as she studied him. “Did she say what happened?” 

“No, she didn’t. Just said she needed to go home and didn’t want to talk about it. I’ve never seen her so upset though, I’m worried.”

He was thankful she didn’t call him out for his bullshit. It was obvious whatever happened had been between the two of you and he didn’t think he couldn’t take Robin ripping into him right now, even if he deserved it.

“Yeah, me too.” And fuck he was. 

             *************************************

3 days since Steve had made you cry. The more you thought about it, the worse you felt because if you were being honest with yourself, maybe there was a small, teeny tiny part of you that grew fond of Steve. Steve with his goofy smile and bashful grin when he’d tell you stupid jokes. 

It was one thing to be hurt because he’d been a jerk, but now you were dealing with feelings you didn’t want. You’d been hurt because you liked Steve and hearing him say…well you guess he didn’t say much, just stumbled his way through some sentences that all started pretty shitty, your feelings were all twisted up that he viewed you a certain way. 

But instead of thinking too hard about these newfound feelings you had, you chose to ignore it completely. Obviously! You didn’t have the time or energy to worry about what Steve Harrington thought of you, especially when you glance at the clock on your nightstand and shit you’re gonna be late for work! 

This is your first shift in 3 days and your stomach turns because you know you’ll be working with Steve. It also happened to be Friday, the day of your date that you had canceled in a fit of hurt and anger when you got home from your last shift. But based on how that jackass you couldn’t even remember the name of took it, you’d dodged a bullet. 

You’re pulling into Family Video before you know it, dread washing over you and it doesn’t help that the humid summer heat as your bare thighs sticking to your seat, it only adds to your frustration. You make no move to actually get out, but you know you can’t afford to miss a shift or risk this job so you get it over with, pulling yourself out and walking in before you say fuck it and head back home. 

Walking through the front doors you see him immediately, standing behind the counter with worry etched between his brows and a small frown on his face. He looks like a kicked puppy, staring you down as if you’ve wronged him. 

“You’re late.” 

You stiffen, spine straightening at his words and a string of curses are on the tip of your tongue, ready to lash out at him because how dare he. But before you get the chance he’s speaking again, effectively cutting off the tyrade you had going on your head. 

“And that’s fine, totally fine! You’re just never late so I was worried, but then again I know today’s Friday so I wasn’t sure if you’d be showing up at all…I didn’t get the chance to tell you the other day I’d already told Robin I’d cover her shift today but I talked to the boss and if you need to go you can, I can manage one night by myself, I swear!” 

You didn’t answer him, walking past and heading to the break room to hang up your things and try and mentally prepare for what was sure to be the longest shift of your life. The only thing you had going for you was that it was a Friday night, so hopefully you’d be busy and not have time to stress over being stuck with Steve. 

When you come back out he’s standing in the same spot you left him, staring around like a lost little kid waiting for someone to give him direction. Well you won't be doing it tonight. Wordlessly you take a seat on the stool, trying your best to ignore his stare burning into the side of your face. You’d snap at him if you didn’t think you’d have a meltdown. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go? I know you said tonight was the only night that would work for your date and I swear to you I can handle it. The place’ll still be standing tomorrow.” 

Maybe you should go. You could go home and lay in your bed and wallow some more, eat some ice cream and try and forget the past week had ever happened. But you couldn’t. You needed the money and you certainly weren’t gonna hide from Steve when he’s the one that fucked up. So with all the courage you can muster you turn to him, doing your best to give a blank face so he can’t see the hurt brewing behind your eyes. 

“No, Harrington. I don’t go on dates, remember?” 

            **************************************

Steve watches you turn away from him and fuck, okay he deserved that. He was a major asshole who had spent the last 3 days trying and failing to figure out how to get you to forgive him. 

Then you walk in looking so pretty that for a second he forgets that you’re mad at him, that he had fucked up. But then he sees your eyes and they look sad, detached and that kills him all over again. 

If he thought you might have disliked him before then he had no idea how good he had it! He’d give anything for you to smirk at him, to call him an idiot or to roll your eyes and pretend like you didn’t care when he rambled on, even though he could tell you did care, your eyes always gave you away. 

“Can I please just—”

“No.”

“Please, I’m begging for you to just—”

“No, Steve.” 

“But—”

“Nope.”

“Goddamnit please just let me at least try and explain myself a little bit. I know I don’t deserve it but I hurt you and I never, ever wanted to do that. Please. 5 minutes, honey. Please.” 

He thinks he’s shocked you, eyes widening the tiniest bit before you shrug at him, casting a quick look his way before you turn back around and face away from him. 

“I’m listening.” 

Doing your best to ignore the fact that he just called you honey, he’s never done that, you turn to him and shrug, trying to act indifferent but on the inside you’re dying to know what he has to say. You want to know what he really thinks even though it goes against everything you’ve ever thought or stood for. 

Jesus Christ you were the pathetic one, hoping for the reassurance of King Steve. Highschool you would absolutely kick your ass if she could see you now. 

“I’m not…good at sorting my thoughts, especially around you and the shit I said the other day came out so wrong, so not how I meant it and I just—fuck I’m sorry. I never want you to be sad or hurt because of me…or anything at all,” He didn’t even know how to properly say anything without it coming out that he just liked you so much it made him a fool! “I was not trying to suggest people didn’t want to take you out, that came out all wrong. I’m sure there’s a line of people just waiting for you to give them a chance,” I would know, I’m front and center. “But I was just surprised because I hadn’t ever heard you talk about going on dates so I guess I just assumed…I don’t know. I’m an idiot who was also maybe just a little jealous and fuck it’s not even my business what you do! The point is that I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sorry that I hurt your feelings, it was never my intention.” 

It had been a few minutes with neither of you saying anything, the store empty and only the buzz of the crappy ac could be heard around you as he waited for you to say something, anything. 

“Do you want me to get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness? I’ll do it, I swear. I hate you being upset with me, it fuckin’ sucks.” He couldn’t help it, his skin was crawling the longer you stayed quiet and he thinks he’d do anything to get you to not look so sad. 

He hears a small huff from you and if he was looking he’d have seen it was a small laugh of disbelief. “I may be mean but I’m not cruel, Harrington. I wouldn’t make you get on your knees on this floor.” 

Relief flooded through him and despite the humidity swirling around in the air he swore he felt cooler, lighter than he did before. “Does this mean I’m off your shit list then?” 

Your laugh was loud this time and he felt his chest swell with pride that he had been the one to cause it, even if he hadn’t meant to. 

“What makes you so sure I have a shit list?” 

“Oh come on, you definitely do.” Things felt somewhat normal again and it eased the ache in his chest that had lived there for 3 long days. Maybe this whole thing would make you guys even closer, actually make you friends. 

“Alright, maybe I do. And you’re definitely on it, but not because of what happened,” He found himself smiling at you and if he looked close enough he swore he saw a ghost of a smile on your lips before you wiped it away with the back of your hand, “but about the other day, I…you did hurt my feelings. I know, it’s shocking I have them but every once in a while I’m reminded I’m just like the rest of you, unfortunately. Look, I’ve worked with you a while and you’re sweet, Steve. You’re a good guy and when you were saying those things…I know you didn’t mean it the way it came out, but it made me feel..fuck I hate this shit. It made me feel like you thought I wasn’t good enough or pretty enough or some shit like that and it just…it fucked with me, okay? But I know you’d never be cruel like that so I forgive you. We’ll forget this happened so I don’t have to talk about my feelings anymore and we’ll be good. We are good. Fuck I’ll even admit we’re friends if we can not talk about this ever again.” 

“You think I don’t think you’re pretty or good enough?” That was all his brain could think of. How the fuck could you think that? Had he not been obvious? He all but drooled over you every time you were in his line of sight. 

“Really, Steve? That’s all you got! I just said we were friends. I'd thought you’d be over the moon.” Your eyes were looking everywhere but him and he knew you were trying to deflect. You’d just been vulnerable with him and he should move on but he couldn’t stomach you thinking you weren’t good enough or pretty enough, let alone thinking that he thought those things! 

“Honey, I’d be lucky even if you even gave me a second glance. Good enough? You’re too good for me and every other sorry prick in this town. I fuckin’ swear it. I was caught off guard and jealous. Jealous that someone else had gotten you to give them the time of day!” You looked stunned but he kept going, “And I can give you all the dirty details about how pretty you are. How I spend all day practically getting paid to stare at you, what a job! How I’ve memorized every little detail of your pretty face, how I stare a little too long when you’re bent over in front of me. Or how I think about your cute little mouth wrapped around that blow pop and wish it was my—”

“Steve Harrington!” You’d slapped your palm over his mouth to shut him up and if he wasn’t enjoying how squirmy you suddenly were he’d nip at your palm to make you jump. It was nice seeing you all red faced and hot because of him for a change, even though he loved it when it was the other way around. 

Maybe he’d said too much, let his filter slip a little too far but he wanted—no needed for you to know how perfect you were. Not just to him but to anyone with common sense. 

Pulling your palm away he opened his mouth but you shot him a glare as he did, as if you could sense he was going to do it. He watched as you tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear and cleared your throat bringing your weary eyes to meet his. 

“Smacking me around now?” He was a little shit, he knew it but he was sure you liked it anyway. 

“You love it.” And shit, you’d got him there. He’d let you do anything you wanted to him with a smile on his face and his heart happy. But just because he’d made you feel better didn’t mean the hurt just went away and he’d do whatever it took to fix it. 

“Caught me,” He threw you a wink that you ignored, rolling your eyes at him, “but seriously, there’s not one thing wrong with you and I’m sorry that I made you feel any different. I’m a dick. I’ll tell you till I’m blue in the face how pretty you are if that’s what it takes.” 

“Oh no, I’ve heard plenty, you perv. Now I know why you’re so quiet when I’m reorganizing the bottom shelves, you’re staring at my ass!” He shrugged at you sheepishly, not being near as embarrassed as he should be for admitting that. 

“But…thank you, Steve. This was just a misunderstanding that you’ve more than cleared up. We’re good, Harrington. I’m good.” And the relief he felt was seen on his face and felt throughout his body. He could’ve used the moment to be sweet, dragging out the conversation but you still looked a little uneasy about opening up to him so he thought it better to go back to territory you were comfortable with, him annoying you. 

“Oh I know we’re good! We’re friends now, remember? Don’t think I’ll ever let you forget it.” 

              *************************************

Things between you and Steve had been…good. 

There was a bit of tension between you, the kind that made your throat dry when you looked at him and your thighs clench when he whispered something in your ear if customers were around and he didn’t want them to hear. Maybe it was from the things he admitted or maybe it was because you were suddenly much more aware of Steve. 

You’d had your talk, if you could call it that, a few weeks ago and the time you’ve spent together since then had been mostly normal. Steve, getting on your nerves, rambling about nothing for as long as you’d let him, looking at you with those pitiful puppy dog eyes when you gave him some attention. You, teasing him relentlessly, even more now than before. Covering for him less, he’d been showing up on time almost every shift you had together. Bending over in front of him more just to hear him curse and see his cheeks flush. 

And maybe kind of developing a crush on him. 

It’s not your fault, it’s his! How were you supposed to resist him after he said he’d be lucky to go out with you, after he told you he’d been jealous someone else was, after he told you how pretty you were and how he thought about your mouth wrapped around his—

Fuck—no, you were not going down that road again. Every time you thought about what he said, how genuine and needy he seemed when he talked about you, your head got all fuzzy and your knees threatened to give out. It was all you could do not to pounce on him the second the words left his mouth. 

So yeah, you had a big fat crush on Steve Harrington. 

He’d also taken your comment about being friends to heart, bringing it up every chance he got and using it as an excuse for the two of you to spend even more time together. You’d walk in Family Video and he’d flash you that smile, opening his arms for a hug you pretended to hate but in reality looked forward to every day. 

“Hello, friend.” 

“As your friend I have to tell you how pretty you look today.” 

“C’mon friend, come to this party with me. It’ll be lame without you.” 

You’d threatened to revoke his “friend” privileges and he’d gasped, clutching his chest dramatically and pretending to stumble to the floor. It took everything in you not to giggle at his antics. You were quickly becoming obsessed with Steve, and even more obsessed with how quick you could get him to turn into a puddle at your feet. 

That was how you find yourself here at the Hawkins public pool with your bag strap digging uncomfortably into your shoulder and sweat dripping down your back, wearing what you’d bet was a grimace as you walked around the scattered chairs looking for Steve. 

One thing that remained constant and strong was the mid summer heat that took your breath away and put you in a less than pleasant mood most of the time. Poor Steve got the brunt of your frustration but he never complained. And that’s why you finally agreed to come to the pool with him, because he was sweet and patient and adorable, even when he was annoying the shit out of you. 

What you didn’t account for was the added heat you’d endure from seeing Steve shirtless before you, arms crossed over his chest and pale pink swim trunks sitting on his hips. 

When did Steve Harrington get chest hair and why was your mouth watering over it? It made him look sexy, older in a way that erased all boyish features you’d come to love. He looked…fuck he looked hot. His hair was slicked back and you knew he’d already gotten in, too impatient to wait for the 10 minutes longer it had taken you to get here. He had a trail of hair on his lower belly that ran down under the band of his swim trunks and you think you might have actually let out a whimper at the sight. 

You took a step toward him and cursed yourself when your legs wobbled a little bit. If he saw it he didn’t say anything, righting yourself quickly and making your way over so you could toss your bag into his waiting arms, trying not to look at the patch of chest hair just inches from your face and failing miserably. 

“My own personal pool boy, a girl could get used to this.” 

It didn’t take long to figure out that the easiest and quickest way to get yourself together was to turn it on him, to make his hands twitch and his stomach clench and to tease him until he was panting like a puppy. 

“At your service, ma’am.” 

Grabbing your arm he tugged you to the chairs he’d saved for the two of you, a cooler sitting between them with the lunch he’d made for the both of you. It makes your heart skip a beat and your tummy flutters. Your sweet Stevie. 

He sat your bag down between the chairs, laying back so his arms were stretched back and crossed behind his head, a twinge in your stomach tightening as you watched him stretch out before you. A fucking Greek god. You needed to even the playing field and you needed to do it now. 

Grabbing the sunscreen from your bag you put on the sweetest smile you could conjure while your body screamed at you to straddle his thighs and kiss him dumb. “Stevie, can you help me out with this?” He nodded without thought, that’s just how kind he was, sitting up to grab the bottle from your hands. 

Before he could make a move to get up you knocked his legs apart, pushing yourself down and back so that you were wedged between his thighs, your back almost completely pressed against his front. 

He cursed behind you, trying to scoot back but your hands dug into his thighs to keep him there, a silent plea. You’re sure if you could see his face he’d look almost pained at the feeling of your skin pressed to his. 

You heard him flip the cap open and squeeze some sunscreen in his hand, neither of you saying anything for a moment before he leaned forward, his lips almost touching the shell of your ear when he spoke, “s’gonna be cold.” You nodded wordlessly and straightened up a little, pushing back further into him. 

“Fuck.” You didn’t mean for it to slip out and hoped you could blame it on the cold lotion hitting your back, but you knew that was a lie. Steve’s big, calloused hands on your shoulders and back had you holding back whines and moans threatening to climb up your throat. Jesus Christ this felt good, too good. 

Any composure you had left flew out the window at his next move and you were quickly falling behind in the one sided game you’d started with him. 

You felt his hands move down lower to where the string of your bikini tied in the back, your thighs clenching hard when he slid them toward the front, following the line of your top and just barely slipping under the cup of your breast to tease the skin there before he was pulling back and going to your shoulders again. 

Holy fuck. 

He tensed behind you when your fingers dug harder into his thighs, but you didn’t even mean to. It was just a knee jerk reaction to his fingers gliding over the underside of your boob for Christ's sake. It wasn’t until you leaned back just a little, totally innocent you were just readjusting, that you felt it. 

Steve was hard. His swimsuit did a shit job of concealing it. And he was pressed up against you so tightly you could feel him throb against your lower back when you gasped. This was your opportunity to one up him, to move ahead a few spaces. 

Head turning to the side just slightly so he was in your peripheral, you needed to make sure he was looking and listening. You spoke as if you weren’t dripping wet yourself, thighs sore from how hard you’d been squeezing them together. 

“Poor baby, touching my shoulders and grazing a pair of tits has you all needy, huh?” 

He whined low in his throat, leaning forward to press his forehead against your back. You could feel little puffs of air against your skin as he tried to compose himself, not that you’d let him. 

“Stop. Don’t be mean.” The words were whispered against your skin and you smiled. 

“Don’t act like you don’t like it when I’m mean. Gets you hard, doesn't it, when I tease you?” You were being mean, so mean, but if the way he subtly tried to buck up against you was indication of how he felt, he loved it. 

You kept going, basking in the feeling of his hands grilling your hips tight and his breathing against your back was getting faster the more you talked. 

“You really are like a puppy. It’s just so fucking cute how whiny you get when you’re like this.” 

Both of you stilled when a whimper slipped out a little too loud and all of a sudden you remembered where you were, a fucking public pool. Steve must have realized too because he pulled back, scooting far enough away that you weren’t touching anymore and you hated how you already missed the feel of his skin on yours. 

Clearing your throat you shuffled over to the other chair, glancing at Steve to see his mouth shut and eyes looking anywhere but you. Maybe you’d gone too far. You opened your mouth to apologize but before you could he was up and tugging you to the edge of the pool, jumping in and practically dragging you in with him. 

The cool water actually did a good job of cooling you down, physically and mentally. When you broke the surface, gasping for air, Steve was already there looking at you. You couldn’t read the look on his face, couldn’t tell if he was upset with you so you bit the bullet. 

“M’sorry if I went too far, Steve. It’s just…you were…the sunscreen—you were making me feel crazy so I wanted to even it up. I shouldn’t have done that though, especially not here. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” 

For the first time since you came up from the water he broke his stare, opting to look around you before he came closer, pulling you in so no one would hear your conversation. 

“Don’t be sorry, I’m not. I only pulled away because I was seconds from cumming in my shorts like a teenage boy and I was embarrassed.” 

Lips pulling into a smile you covered your mouth and he pouted at you, huffing like a child when he saw you trying not to laugh at him. “No need to be embarrassed, Stevie. You can’t help that you’re a needy little thing.” 

His hand swatted at yours that had come up to pinch his cheeks and you cooed at him to tease him further. “So mean.” He tried to look annoyed but failed and it made your stomach dip at how pretty he looked, drops of water falling off his lashes, lashes you and every girl in Hawkins would kill for. 

“You really are pretty, Harrington.” The tips of his ears burned bright red and he moved toward you instinctively, like he wanted to kiss you. God did you want to kiss him. But you didn’t want to do it in a public place where you wouldn’t be able to make a mess of him after so you pulled back and splashed some water in his face with a giggle. 

“C’mon big boy, let’s swim! I didn't come all this way just to stare at your cute face.” 

Although you wouldn’t mind it. 

          *******************************************

The next few weeks are quiet, work goes by painfully slow when you’re not with Steve and you hate it. Your shifts with Steve are filled with teasing touches and flushed cheeks and very little work. 

You’ve also been spending a good chunk of the time you’re not at work with Steve as well. He somehow almost always convinces you to come over to watch a movie or go with him for a late night ice cream run. You find yourself in his car or playing with his hair while you lay in your bed more often than not. 

And you love it. 

Trying to act like you weren’t obsessed with him was exhausting so you mostly gave it up. You’d smile at him more, laugh at his jokes more freely, and have become much more touchy with him. 

Neither of you could seem to keep your hands off each other if you were in the same room. He always had to have a hand on your hip or one holding your thigh and you couldn’t keep your fingers from rubbing at his neck or slipping through his hair if he was close. 

There hadn’t been a conversation about what was happening, but neither of you seemed to mind. You think that you’d become best friends who were just crazy about each other and that was enough for both of you. 

Until it wasn’t. 

If you were being fair, you knew that technically you and Steve hadn’t officially become exclusive or anything. The two of you probably weren’t even dating, even though you spent all your time together. Cuddling and teasing constantly. 

But you weren’t fair. Everyone who spent any amount of time in a public setting knew that you and Steve were, for lack of a better word, an item. If someone saw you at the grocery store or at the post office, or anywhere, it was a safe bet that Steve was two paces behind you if he wasn’t already at your hip. 

This was common knowledge. Or at least you thought it was. So it’s a surprise, a bad one at that, when you come back from your break with a smile on your face that is quickly wiped away when you see some blonde you went to school with hanging over the counter with her tits pushed at Steve, a devious smile on her face as she bats her eyelashes at him. 

All the blood rushes from your body and you’re not sure you can even keep down the sandwich you’d had for lunch. A sandwich that Steve had made for you, might you add. There’s a horrible twist in your belly and you’ve never felt such rage as you have looking at the way she toys with the collar of his shirt between her fingers and at the way he gives her a small smile and doesn’t pull away. 

You were jealous. So jealous it took the breath right out of you and made your brain go blank. One minute you’re standing there with your skin hot and heart pounding and the next you’re sliding back into your seat beside Steve with a glare so sharp it could cut glass. 

“Need help with anything or are you just gonna keep groping the staff?” If your glare was sharp your words were sharper, serious and stern and directed at the girl who was still touching Steve, your Steve. 

Both the girl and Steve’s eyes widen at your tone. She finally takes a step back and you feel like you can breathe again. You see the way Steve’s staring at you but you don’t look at him, you can’t or you might do something crazy like hit this girl, or even worse, cry. 

Once the initial embarrassment from your words wears off she straightens her back and narrows her eyes in your direction. “I think we had it handled, sweetie. Your coworker here,” You flinch at the way she emphasizes coworker and feel yourself shrink a little, “was just giving me some movie recommendations. But thanks for the offer.” 

“I’ll leave you to it then.” The words taste bitter on your tongue and you want to slap the smirk off her face so bad your palm twitches. Steve is quiet beside you and you can’t even begin to process how that adds to your fury, to the pain that’s bubbling up beneath your skin and threatening to spill out. 

You’ve taken one, maybe two steps away from the counter, ready to go back to the bathroom of shame and cry again over Steve fucking Harrington when a hand on your wrist stops you. 

The same hand, the one that belongs to the boy you’ve become enamored with, tugs you gently back to his side, hand leaving you for just a second so he can wrap his arm around your waist and tug you into his side. Your hips are touching and you feel a wave of relief wash over you, the pain and anger dissolving while his hand grips you tightly against him. 

A sick satisfaction runs through you as you watch the way her jaw clenches and her eyes dim as his arm curls around you. Coworker my ass. Steve clears his throat beside you, catching yours and her attention, “I’m afraid I’m all out of recommendations for you, but maybe my coworker here has some for you.” Before she can even think about speaking you cut her off with a faux pout, “I don’t think I do, sorry!” 

Deciding Steve isn’t worth the battle you’re more than willing to start, what an idiot, she turns around and pretends to look through the new releases for all of five seconds before she’s scurrying out of the store and leaving you both alone again. 

Steve gives one last squeeze to your hip before he moves to sit back down, the reality of your little outburst smacking you in the face. Well, this is awkward. You sit down on your stool, tapping your hands on the counter while you try and gather the courage to look at him. 

You hope he’s not upset with you and if he is well…fuck him! Just because you haven’t said it out loud doesn’t mean he’s not yours. You know for a fact if he caught you flirting with a guy he’d be pissed! All whiny and pouty and pawing at you for attention. So you were justified in being upset, totally and fully justified. 

Now you’ve worked yourself up to tell him off and give him a piece of your mind, and you turn to him to do just that when it all slips away in an instant. Because Steve isn’t upset, no, he’s staring at you with wide, bright eyes and a smirk so big and knowing you curse yourself in your head. 

Oh this is even worse! Now you’ve given him a big head, bigger than he already had! 

“So that was…interesting.” You can hear the amusement in his tone and you roll your eyes. You much prefer him all pathetic and whiny over this…cocky Steve. But really you don’t mind this either. 

“Shut it, Harrington.” You think if you weren’t so obsessed with him you’d have the decency to be even a little embarrassed at how you acted but you aren’t! You practically marked your territory in front of her and you can’t find it in you to care or regret it. 

“You were jealous. Over me! I’ll never shut up about this! I’m taking a spot in the paper for this, alerting the press as we speak!” His bottom lip between his teeth and he looked giddy like it was Christmas morning and he’d gotten the brand new shiny bicycle he’d spent all year wishing for. 

You could have denied it, but what was the point in that? Everyone already knew anyway how you felt, you weren’t exactly subtle about it. Might as well embrace it at this point. 

“And so what if I was? Figure you’re mine anyways, right?” Your cheeks tint the lightest shade of pink as you watch him take in your words, his eyes a little wide and a small shy smile on his lips. 

“I am?” 

God okay, maybe you hadn’t been as obvious as you thought the last months. 

“Well…I thought so. You take up all my time anyways, Harrington, might as well. Plus I like you—well a lot. I’m yours too, ya know. If you want I guess, I don’t know, I thought this was just unspoken between us and now you’re making me nervous!” 

His lips parted in what could either be shock or awe, you weren’t sure. He didn’t look appalled at the idea so that was a good sign, right? 

“I’m sorry I just…sometimes I’m not even sure you like me all that much so I’m just a little shocked but yes! Fuck—yes I’ll be whatever you want.” 

Maybe he was a little dumb or maybe you weren’t as good at showing your feelings as you thought but either way you’d make sure he felt wanted, needed by you. 

“Steve, if I didn’t like you I promise I would not be spending all my time with you. I’m mean sometimes because you like it and I like seeing you all messy and cute. M’kinda obsessed with you, you idiot.”

His grin widened, dimples popping out and your heart sped up at the sight. He was pretty, so pretty and despite how you acted sometimes you felt so lucky that he even wanted to spend any time with you, let alone all of it. Steve Harrington had wiggled his way deep into your heart and your brain and you think your life would be dull without him. 

“I’d ask you to pinch me but I know you’ll make it hurt,” Your hand reached out automatically towards his thigh and he swatted you away with an eye roll, “I’m obsessed with you too, have been for months. Since the first day you started actually. Want you to be my girl, wanna be yours too.” 

Leaning forward you pressed a quick peck to the corner of his mouth and you felt his head turn, trying to catch your lips. He wouldn’t get off the hook that easily, it took no effort to remember how it felt to see that girl's hands all over him. Even if it wasn’t his fault you don’t think he’d mind paying for it anyways. Add on the cocky grin he had earlier when he realized you were jealous and all of a sudden you had big plans for Steve Harrington, plans that made your thighs clench and had you pulsing around nothing. 

You cooed at him, pulling back just in time to see his brows furrowed and a cute little pout working its way on his lips. He had no idea what was coming to him and you couldn’t want to see how sorry he would be. 

“Patience is key, baby.” 

          *****************************************

It was a week later when it all clicked for Steve. 

A week of teasing touches and sneaky glances his way, even when people were looking. You’d leave a kiss on his cheek or the corner of his mouth or on the side of his neck right right under his ear. He was going crazy, body leaning forward subconsciously anytime you were near him. 

You’ve barely let him touch you and at first he was worried but you’d whisper in his ear about “payback” for making you jealous and while he was nervous, now he was just excited. And impatient, wanting and begging for you to just do it already. He couldn’t take much more teasing, his cock had been aching for what felt like forever and no matter how many times he found himself in bed, stroking himself to the thought of you, it wouldn’t ever be enough. 

He thinks you’ve finally decided to put him out of his misery, calling him earlier to ask if you could come over, that you had a special surprise that was just for him. He’d agreed without hesitation, telling you to come over whenever you wanted and that he’d be waiting for you. His parents weren’t around this weekend so he didn’t have to worry about them and he was thanking god for that. 

It had been 4 hours and 37 minutes since you called, not that he’d been counting, when he heard a knock at his door that had him all but jumping over the couch and sprinting for the front door. He practically ripped it open, grinning wide as he took you in with dreamy eyes and his stomach twisted in knots. 

You were wearing a sundress that reached about mid thigh and he had to hold himself upright with the door at the sight of your bare legs, tan and smooth and fuck he just needed to bite at the skin between your thighs. The dress had little strawberries printed all over and he’d bet money that you tasted just as sweet as the fruit. His mouth watered at the sight of your full lips all glossy with whatever you’d put on them and it took everything in him not to lean forward and suck your bottom lip into his mouth. 

He didn’t realize he had been standing there just staring until you cleared your throat, a knowing smirk on your lips as he shook his head to clear him from the daze you’d put him in. “S’pretty, you’re so pretty.” His voice was quiet and he wasn’t sure if he meant for you to hear or if he was just talking to himself. 

“Thank you, handsome. Can I come in or do I need to stand on the porch with you eye-fucking me all night?” He doesn’t think he’d ever get used to your crassness, even though he wasn’t complaining about it. He loved that you spoke your mind, no matter how dirty, and hoped what one day he’d be comfortable doing that too. 

“Right, right, yes come in,” Pulling the door open he stepped to the side so you could come in, knees wobbling when he caught a whiff of your perfume as you passed, “Are you hungry? I can…order something. I don’t have much to cool but maybe I could run to the store real quick?” 

He heard your muffled giggle as you walked through the house in front of him, hips swaying as you walked and he felt his cock twitch in his pants just looking at you. 

“Just hungry for you, Stevie.” 

You were teasing, he knew that, but he wasn’t sure you weren’t serious by the way you eyed him over your shoulder like he was your prey. And fuck did he want to be. He’d crawl around on the floor if you asked. 

By the time he followed your trail and made it through the living room you were at the foot of the stairs, lip between your teeth and hands together behind your back all innocent. You both knew better than to believe that. 

“Can I see your room?” Fuck this was happening. He nodded at you, grabbing your small hand with his and relishing in the way it felt to hold you. He led you up the stairs and was careful not to go too fast, to seem too eager. He knows you’d tease him for being so excited but based on the look in your eyes he thought that maybe you were pretty excited too. 

Pushing his door open he watched as you took in his room, eyes light as you scanned over the posters he’d hung haphazardly, some artwork the kids had drawn for him hanging above his desk. His bed was unmade and he cursed himself, as if you’d care. 

“Looks exactly how I pictured it.” 

“You pictured my room?” 

“Maybe.” 

He stood still, leaning up against the door he’d closed and locked behind him as you made your way around, lifting up papers and magazines, humming quietly to yourself. You must have been a witch or something the way he’d become so entranced with you, following your every move like he wasn’t meant to do anything else.

So when you turn around to face him quickly, he’s startled, eyes shooting up to meet yours like he’d gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar before dinner. 

“Alright then, on the bed.” 

The flurry of questions he has does little to deter him as he scrambles past you and pushes on the bed a little too quickly. He falls forward face first and hears you snicker behind him. He’s not sure where you want him so he hopes he’s right. He scoots back, flush against the wall, the headboard on his left and foot of the bed on his right. 

“You want this, Harrington? I’m not misreading anything, right?” 

He’s shaking his head furiously, eyes wide and mouth closed as he watches for your next move. 

“Oh now you have nothing to say? Months of knowing you and you’re hardly ever quiet. Use your words, big boy.” 

“Y-yes, I want this. Whatever you want.” 

The smile you reward him with makes his chest ache and the blood rush through him so fast he can hear it pounding in his ears. He thinks he wants you looking like that all the time, proud and pleased with him. 

“Good! It’s time for payback then.” 

        **********************************************

You really really hoped your nerves didn’t show on your face as you stood in front of Steve. You don’t think he’d notice even if they did, eyes glazed over as he waited for whatever you had planned. 

Now at this point you were over the whole jealousy thing from last week, really you were! But you played into it a little extra just so you could be mean to him right now. Although with the plans you had, you’d be being mean to him and yourself. 

Wordlessly you reached down, fingers toying with the hem of your dress and you watched as Steve’s eyes tracked the movement, throat bobbing slightly as you lifted it a few inches before letting it drop back down. 

This only lasted for a few minutes before you’d had enough, gripping your dress and almost ripping it over your head and letting it drop to your feet. What you hadn’t mentioned was that you had nothing underneath it, absolutely nothing. 

Steve drank you in, slack jawed with his eyes almost bugging out of his head when he moved from your face to your tits, staring at your already hard nipples that you would blame on the coolness in his room. His eyes moved down further and he groaned, a deep, guttural sound that made your clit throb under his stare. 

Was that some drool leaking down to his chin? 

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.”

“Can I?” You don’t think he even realized the words left his mouth and you fought the urge to laugh at how out of it he seemed already. 

“Not tonight, baby.” 

His hands fisted the sheets below him as the pet name slipped past your lips and you smiled sweetly at him. Pointing to the headboard you directed him with a quiet voice, “I’m gonna sit there,” moving your hand to point toward the foot of his bed he followed your finger eagerly, “and you’re gonna sit there, facing me.” 

He obeyed instantly, shuffling toward where’d you directed him while you climbed onto the bed and and situated yourself against his headboard with your legs stretched out in front of you. 

“Can I have your shirt?” It wasn’t anything special, a plain white t-shirt that hugged him beautifully, but you wanted it all the same. To have his smell surrounding you, covering you in him. He peeled it off so he was left in a pair of jeans that stuck to him in all the right places. Unsure of what to do he tossed it to you and you wasted no time in slipping it over your bare frame, pleased that it bunched at your hips just how you’d hoped.

You could see the disappointment in his face at the extra layer you’d added and you itched to lean forward and pinch his flushed cheeks in adoration. He was just so adorable it made you crazy. With everyone else he was strong and stern, the babysitter and protector and king of Hawkins.

But with you…with you he was soft and sweet, pliable in your hands like putty and you ate up every second of it. 

           ****************************************

Steve thinks he might have gone to heaven, you sitting across from him in nothing but his shirt with your thighs on display. 

His chest feels hot despite the cool air hitting his skin and he thinks if he doesn’t get his hands on you in the next three seconds something horrible might happen. You're giving him that teasing smile that makes his tummy clench and sends excitement zipping down his spine. 

He still can’t believe you like him, that you’re obsessed with him. It’s like a dream come true and he thinks he’s pinched himself at least 17 times in the last week. 

He’s pulled from his thoughts when you call his name softly, head snapping up to meet yours and he feels dizzy all over again from how pretty you look. 

“You’re gonna watch me, okay? No touching me or yourself until I say.” Wait—what? He gives you a nod and tries not to let his disappointment show in his face, and he knows he fails based on the way you smile and shake your head at him. 

But any disappointment he had is gone in a flash when you lean back and spread your legs to give him a glimpse at just how much you like him. He might black out, he’s not sure. You’re glistening for him, a little bit of slick on your thighs and suddenly he’s starved. He audibly groans at the sight of you on display for him. 

“She’s pretty—fuck so pretty.” He’s talking more to himself than you but he sees the way you twitch at him referring to your pussy as “her” and it makes him smile shyly, still not moving his eyes from where you’re dripping on his bed. 

He watches closely as your hand trails down, rubbing over your thighs for just a second before you’re taking two fingers and spreading yourself open for him, both of you too impatient to drag this out too long. Before he can stop himself he’s moving forward, going to his knees and crawling across his bed that feels far too big all of a sudden. He doesn’t realize he’s moved until your legs are closed and one foot is pressed against his bare chest, stopping him from getting any closer. 

One hand is holding him up and the other is holding onto your ankle as he pleads with his eyes for you to let him closer, just a taste, he just needs one little taste. 

“We’ve just started and you’re already breaking the rules?” The faux disappointment in your tone makes him pout, leaning down to press a small kiss against your calf and he hears you chuckle at his attempt at distracting you. 

“M’sorry, baby, you’re just so pretty, she’s so pretty. Let me have a taste, please? I’ll be good after that, I swear. Just one taste, honey.” 

He watches in anticipation, hope is swelling in his chest as you study him and he can see the contemplation in your eyes as you take him in. He’s so close he can smell you and it lights his whole body up, cock so hard pressed up against his jeans he could cry. 

“Hmm, no,” He hears the whine he makes but can’t be bothered to care, “what fun is payback if I give in before I’ve even touched myself! You can be patient, I know you can.” You have much more faith in him than he has in himself, body slumping in defeat before he’s moving back to where you directed him the first time. 

“Can I at least take these jeans off? It hurts, baby.” 

“Fine, but the boxers stay on, sneaky.” It takes him no time before he’s peeling his jeans off, sighing in relief when some of the pressure is released and he feels like he can breathe again. 

Well he can breathe until you’re spreading your legs again, fingers slipping back down to tease at your clit as your eyes stay locked on him. His chest is tightening as he watches you. Watching the way your legs spread wider when you notice him fisting the sheets beside him. Watching the way your head falls back against his headboard when you move down to circle your messy hole, a moan so lewd coming from your mouth he feels a bead of precum drip down his cock. 

Jesus Christ, he couldn’t decide if this was heaven or hell but he’s sure that either way he’d gladly spend an eternity here. 

He’s torn between watching your face or watching your fingers in your cunt, eyes flickering between the two every few seconds so he didn’t miss something important. He remembers how you compare him to a puppy and he’s sure he’s never looked more like one than he does right now. He’s practically panting across from you and you’re the treat that would be making his tail wag—if he had one. 

“Feels so good, Stevie. This is how wet I get just from thinking about you, ya know? Always have me messy and ready for you.” 

“Please let me touch you. Fuck—please, sweetheart. Need it so bad, need you so bad. I’ll be good, I swear. Never make you jealous again. God I swear I’ll do anything.” 

He knew you were getting close, thighs threatening to close on your hand and hips lifting from the bed eagerly. He could see it on your face too—you wanted to deny him, to torture him some more but he could see you giving in. 

“You beg so pretty, Harrington. Fuck, get over here. Now.” 

He didn't need to be told twice, launching himself across the bed and fitting himself between your thighs that had opened a little to accommodate his wide frame. He waited expectantly, and you smiled down at him fondly. 

“You know, you really look like a—”

“A puppy, I know. So can I have my treat then?” 

Nodding at him you swiped your fingers through your folds and held your hand out to him, fingers shiny with you and he opened his mouth quickly. His head moved forward and he took your fingers in his mouth, lapping his tongue around them greedily, determined not to waste a single drop. He hummed around them, eyes closed so he didn't see the way you were staring at him like he’d hung the moon. 

“S’good then?” You sounded breathless above him and he could only nod, not wanting to drop your fingers from his mouth just yet. God, you tasted good. He’d compare you to a nice summer treat but the truth is you’d be perfect for any season, any day. Fuck he’d stay buried between your thighs 24/7 if you’d let him. 

He finally pulled off just enough so that he could speak, “better than a blow pop.” The laugh that pulled from you made his heart warm. It was loud and genuine, shoulders shaking slightly as you grinned at him, teeth on display and everything. 

It was quiet for a few minutes, you pressing your fingers down on his tongue and even though he’d cleaned them up, the taste of you lingered and he would gladly sit here with your fingers in his mouth for hours. 

But you had other plans. 

“Need your fingers, Stevie. They’re bigger than mine and I’m already close from watching you lap at my fingers like a little greedy puppy.” His eyes fell from yours, cheeks red and ears burning as you teased him. 

“Can I use my mouth?” 

“Mhm, not today. I already gave in way too quick, you were just too cute to say no to.” He wants to pout, to protest and beg but he thinks just watching you fall apart on his fingers will be more than enough for him. 

You part your legs further as he slips down to rest his cheek against your inner thigh. His hair tickles the soft, sensitive skin there and you giggle. He moves just enough to press a quick, open mouthed kiss and dreams about the marks he hopes you’ll let him leave there one day. 

With a nod from you he moves his eyes to your cunt, swollen and dripping, and runs his fingers over your clit just to feel your thigh twitch against his cheek. He wraps the hand he’s not using around your thigh, clutching it to him tightly as he eases two of his fingers into you. They slip in easily with no resistance and the feeling of your warm, hot walls snug on his fingers makes him grind his hips down into his bed. 

“Shit—she feels good, hugging my fingers so tight.” Your hips buck up against his hand, urging him in deeper and he smiles against your leg. A groan slips out of him when your hand slips down to rub slow, loose circles on your clit, head rolling back so that all you can see is his eyes peeking up at you. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen something so hot in his entire life. He can see the little beads of sweat rolling down your forehead and how you’re panting and whining above him, especially when he curls his fingers upward and finds that spongy spot that has your mouth dropping open and eyes squeezing shut. 

“There it is, yeah? That’s the spot?” You’re nodding quickly, fingers that were circling your clit are now sliding into his hair and gripping it tightly. The burn of it makes him moan against your thigh, the sting of your grip making his eyes roll back into his head almost. 

“D-don’t you dare stop, Harrington. M’close, so so close.” He doesn’t think there is anything that could get him to stop. Not when you’re dripping down his hand and your thighs are shaking like they are. 

The final straw is when he moves his mouth down a couple of inches, teeth scraping against the skin where your thighs almost touch and he bites down, hard enough to leave a mark. He hears the thud of your head knocking against his headboard and the curse that flies out of your mouth as you clench down on him so hard you almost push his fingers out. He works you through it, licking over the mark he just left to soothe the sting and slowing down his fingers once you start to twitch and whine from the feeling. 

It’s not until you're pushing his hand away and letting your legs slump that he takes a peek at you, a lazy smile on your face and hair sticking to your forehead where you’d been sweating. He knows there’s a widening grin on his face as he looks up at you, placing one last kiss before he’s sitting himself up so his legs are under yours and his hands are resting on the tops of your thighs. 

“If that’s what you call payback then remind me to piss you off more often!” 

You roll your eyes, letting your body fall back against his headboard, “Don’t get smart with me now, Harrington. Not when I’m about to make you cum. I would hate to change my mind.” 

His ears perk up and honestly he hadn’t even thought about himself since he’d gotten between your thighs, content with watching you squirm and moan around his fingers. But he wasn’t gonna turn you down, hell no! Just the thought of you anywhere near his cock had him twitching in his boxers. 

He closed his mouth, fingers coming up to mimic zipping a zipper of his lips and tossing the non existent key far behind him. You smirked at him, hand coming close to pat his cheek, almost like you’d pet his head. 

“Good boy, now turn around and take those boxers off, please.” 

          ********************************************

Holy shit. You didn’t think you'd ever cum so hard in your life. You swear you might have actually seen stars for a minute there when he curled his fingers just right. And when he bit you? How the hell did he know you had a thing for biting. 

Keeping him at arm's length had been the hardest thing you’d ever had to do, especially when he was looking at you like you were a five course meal in front of him. He’d practically been salivating at the sight of you and it took everything in you not to give into him immediately. 

But now that you’d cum, all you could think about was him. About finally getting your hand on his cock and listening to the way he’d gasp and whine with your hand around him. Just the thought was enough to send another wave of arousal and need over you, your toes curling and fingers digging into his bed. 

He still hadn’t moved in front of you and you cocked your head at him, trying to figure out why he suddenly had that sad pout on his lips. “What’s the matter?”

His cheeks were red and he looked almost embarrassed as he tried to avoid eye contact with you and you worried you’d done something to upset him. Maybe this wasn’t as good for him, maybe he didn’t like you teasing him? 

“S’just…you haven’t kissed me and I just—I wanna kiss you so bad but I didn’t know if there was a reason you hadn’t or maybe you just didn’t want to or—”

You cut him off, gripping his shoulders and pushing your lips against his that were swollen and slick with spit. He moaned against you, sighing and relaxing in your hold. Fuck—how had you not kissed him yet? 

His tongue swiped against your bottom lip and you heard the little whine he let out when you didn’t let him in, laughing against his lips. He took the opportunity to move closer, hands moving to fist at your hair and you felt lightheaded from how good he felt, how sweet he tasted. 

When you needed to breathe you regretfully pulled back, foreheads touching and noses bumping into one another as you both took big, greedy gulps of air. His eyes almost sparkled as he looked at you, a shy smirk on both your mouths. 

“Better?”

“Perfect.” It was hard to ignore the way your heart thumped against your rib cage like it was trying to fight its way out. He was perfect. Everything about him and the way he carried himself drew you to him like a moth to a flame. Your mind was consumed with all things Steve. 

And while you wanted to be mushy and sweet with him, one glance down between you had your mouth watering and fingers twitching at your sides. There was a dark wet patch on his blue boxers and the outline of his cock was prominent. You think you know why he was so cocky in high school now, he definitely had the goods to back it up. 

“Kiss me whenever you want but if you don’t get your boxers off in the next 5 seconds I might do something crazy.” 

Your words snapped him out of his post kiss haze and you laughed softly as he scrambled off the bed to pull his boxers down his legs and practically kick them across the room. You gulped at the sight of him, of his pretty and thick cock already leaking and shiny for you. You motioned him forward, eyes kind and soft as you spread your legs for him. 

He smiled when you patted the space in front of you and he crawled back between your legs and shuffled so that he was sitting in front of you, his back pressed to your front, the material of his shirt clinging to his sweaty back. Your thighs stretched around his hips but you loved the slight burn it brought you. You laid back and brought him with you so that he was slumped against your chest, your feet hooked over his calves. 

His hands were on either one of your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh there while his arms were loose at his sides. You took the opportunity to slip your hands under his arms, hands reaching up to run over his chest, tweaking one of his nipples on your way and watching the way his cock twitched where it was resting against his lower belly. 

Steve looked like a dream, head thrown back on your shoulder, thigh thighs spread open with his pretty cock on display for you. As your hands made their way to his tummy you scratched softly, fingers sliding through the trail that started under his belly button and went down. He must have felt sensitive there because he turned his head to the side, mouth pressed against your neck as he cursed. 

“S’good, so good. Fuck, I swear anything you do feels fuckin’ perfect.” You pressed a quick kiss to his shoulder at his words, feeling the high of them as he spoke. 

Holding your hand out in front of him, palm up toward his face he hummed against you, not sure what you were wanting him to do, but willing to do just about anything if it meant your hand would be on his cock. 

“Spit.” 

All that was heard in the room was his quick intake of air, eyes fluttering as he leaned toward your hand. He looked back at you once, to double check that this was real or for confirmation that you really wanted him to spit in your hand, you’re not sure. But you nodded, throat bobbing as he turned back and spit, watching in awe. 

“Good boy.” 

Any strength he had left was gone at your words, head falling back to its place on your shoulder as you moved your hand down, taking hold of his cock and hearing him hiss at the contact. 

You think this might be the best thing that’s ever happened to you. 

His cock was hot and smooth under your touch, a mix of his spit and precum making it easy to glide your hand over his shaft, letting your thumb catch on the tip and relishing in the way he gasped in your ear. 

“Such a pretty cock for a pretty boy, hmm?” The feeling of his fingers digging into your thighs only spurred you on, hand tight around him as you stroked him quickly, loving the way his tummy would clench and he’d gasp at how slick he was, how good it felt. 

You’d never seen him so needy, so pathetic as he was right now, little whines and pleas against the shell of your ear as you gripped him. He was heavy in your hand and you wondered how he’d feel on your tongue, how he’d taste when he thrusted into your mouth. You’d add that to the list of things you needed to do immediately. 

“M’sorry, sorry fuck—you’re gonna make me cum, m’gonna cum—oh shit.” He was throbbing hard against your palm, breathing even harder against your neck and you cooed at him when his hips started thrusting up in time with your strokes. 

“Without asking? I don’t think so, Stevie. You haven’t even said please!” Your hand slowed and he moved so his hand was wrapped over yours, trying to get you to go faster but you swatted him away, scolding him with a pinch to his hip. 

Taking one look at his face that was still buried in your throat, you could tell he was out of it, so fucked out you weren’t sure he could even form words, let alone beg. But that didn’t stop you from egging him on, slowing down until he was so worked up he was on the verge of tears. 

“Oh fuck—please…baby, honey, please let me cum? I’ve been so good I just..shit I need it. You feel so good, perfect girl. O-oh my god, please. Please please please.” 

He was mumbling, a mix of curses and pleas as he left sloppy, open mouthed kisses against your throat. You think you’d give him anything he wanted right now with how pretty he sounded, all pathetic and fucked out for you. 

“Go ahead, pretty boy. Cum on my hand, yeah? Make a mess of us.” Your hand sped up on his cock, feeling yourself leak into his bed as he twitched against your fingers. You kept going, kept talking as his hips got sloppy and cock was red and begging for release. 

“Don’t know how you’ll ever fit inside me, Stevie. Gonna have to prep me for days I think.” 

“Next time you’ll have to use my mouth, yeah? I hate letting your cum go to waste.” 

“Y’look so pretty like this. My sweet boy thrusting up into my hand, gonna think about this for days.”

He thrusted up one final time, hips stilling and body going tight as his orgasm took over. His cum coated your fist that was still wrapped around him, reaching his belly and even spilling down onto his thighs. He couldn’t even see the way you pouted at how much had been wasted, cursing yourself for not letting him use your mouth. 

Slumped completely against your chest he mumbled something about his legs feeling like jelly and you giggled, cheek resting against his forehead. 

“Soooo, good then?” 

It took all the energy he could muster to squeeze your thigh, head moving to the side a fraction so he could look at you, smiling so big his cheeks had to hurt. “Are you fuckin’ kidding? I think I just saw god for a second.” 

Rolling your eyes and shoving at his shoulders, butterflies danced in your stomach at how pretty he looked. His skin was flushed and glowing, hair a mess where you’d both pulled at it, lips swollen and red from biting and kissing and holding them between his teeth. He looked phenomenal. 

As much as you’d love to stay here wrapped up in him for the rest of your life, your thighs had gone numb from being stretched around his hips and your back ached from sitting back against his headboard for so long. 

Out of the corner of your eye you could see him nodding off on your shoulder, eyes fluttering shut and little puffs of air hitting your skin. You tapped his cheeks with your clean hand, “C’mon, Stevie. Gotta clean us up and then we can go straight to bed.” 

He groaned in protest but leaned up enough so that you could slip from behind him, legs tingling when you stood on them, hobbling to the bathroom on shaky legs and flipping Steve off when you heard him chuckle from behind you. 

“Oh fuck off, Harrington.” 

          ******************************************

When Steve wakes up the next morning it’s slow and sweet, eyes blinking open and a small smile on his lips when he feels you pressed into his side. 

He looks down and tries not to laugh at your mouth hanging open, a little bit of drool on his chest from where your cheek is squished against his skin. Your hair is sticking up in every direction and he can feel your breath on him. It makes his heart grow in his chest, an overwhelming sense of joy and contentment washing over him as he stares down at you. He could get used to this, you attached to his hip and waking up to you in his bed. 

Thinking back to when you barely gave him the time of day, he smiles at your relationship now. How you’re just as needy as him, tugging on his belt loop to pull him to you if he’s not close enough for your liking, pulling his hand to your thigh in his car if he doesn’t do it first. He’s seen you use your foot to pull his chair closer to yours at work countless times, a little smile on his mouth every time. 

There’s a part of him that doesn’t know how he got so lucky. He feels that way all the time but especially when you laugh louder than you mean to, hand coming up to cover your mouth with a bashful smile. He feels it when you're humming along to a song you’d heard on the radio, head moving side to side and hips swaying to the beat in your head. He feels it when you randomly bring his hand up to your mouth, pressing a kiss to his palm and to his fingertips. 

He feels it all the time, really. 

And he loves when you're mean to him, when you tease him about staring at you too long or for getting all bashful when you do something normal like tuck your hair behind your ear or scrunch your nose. He loves that you turn him into mush. 

“Stop staring, you creep.” He’d been so lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice your eyes opening or how’d you had scooted closer to him, one leg coming up to tangle with his, wrapped together tightly. 

“That’s rich coming from you considering I’m gonna have to clean your drool off me.” You gasped, sitting up straight and smacking at this chest, appalled at the notion that you would ever—could ever—drool on him in your sleep. 

“Keep it up, Steve. Remember what happened the last time you pissed me off?”

As if he’d ever forget. Unfortunately for you, the idea of repeating last night, or anything like it, was hardly going to deter him from pressing your buttons in the way that only he knew how to do. Reaching out he tugged you back down to him, tucking you back into his side and pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head. 

“Don’t tempt me with a good time.” 

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Ego check

Word count: 803

Pairing: lando Norris x reader

Summary: At a crowded party, you challenge Lando Norris's inflated ego by advising him on how to engage genuinely

My request are open

________________________________________________________

Just as you were about to retreat to a quieter corner, a guy slid up next to you, a cocky smirk already plastered on his face. His dark brown hair was tousled in that "I didn't try, but I totally did" way, and he carried himself with an air of entitlement that you could sense from a mile away.

"You must know who I am," he said without so much as a hello.

You blinked at him, unimpressed, and took another sip of your drink. "Should I?" you replied, your voice calm but pointed.

His smile faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered. "Lando. Lando Norris. I race in Formula 1."

You shrugged, raising an eyebrow. "That's nice."

He stared at you like you had just spoken in a foreign language. "You don’t know who I am? Lando Norris? F1 driver?" He leaned in closer as if trying to figure out if you were messing with him.

You tilted your head slightly, keeping your cool. "I heard you the first time. Just not sure why I should care."

Lando blinked, clearly taken aback. His ego was massive, and you could tell he was used to people fawning over him, especially at events like this. But you weren’t interested in that kind of attitude. You liked funny, genuine people—not guys who thought their fame gave them a free pass to be arrogant.

"You know," you said, setting your drink down on the bar, "if you want people to like you, you might want to try being a little less full of yourself. The whole 'do you know who I am' thing? Not cute."

He stared at you, speechless for a moment, clearly not used to being spoken to like that. But instead of getting defensive or annoyed, something in his expression changed. It was subtle at first—his posture relaxed a little, the smirk faded, and his eyes softened as he studied you.

"Okay," he said after a beat, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "What should I say, then?"

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his sudden shift in attitude. "Well, for starters, you could try saying 'Hi, I’m Lando. What’s your name?' You know, like a normal person."

He let out a short laugh, and you could tell the arrogance was melting away. "Hi," he said, still grinning but in a way that felt more real this time. "I’m Lando. What’s your name?"

You smiled back, feeling a little bit of your initial annoyance fade. "That’s better. I’m Y/n."

The conversation shifted after that. Lando dropped the cocky attitude, and instead of talking about himself, he started asking about you—your interests, what brought you to the party, and what you liked to do for fun. He cracked a few jokes, and you found yourself laughing more than you expected to.

It was almost like you had flipped a switch in him. The arrogance that had initially repelled you had given way to something softer, more genuine. He started to talk about his passion for racing in a way that wasn’t about impressing you, but about sharing something he loved.

And as the night went on, you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes lingered on you when you spoke, how his laugh was a little louder at your jokes, how he seemed to genuinely enjoy your company.

By the time you were getting ready to leave, Lando looked at you with an intensity that hadn’t been there before.

"You know," he said, leaning against the bar, "I think you’re the first person in a long time who hasn’t cared who I am. It’s kind of refreshing."

You smiled, grabbing your bag. "That’s because I care more about who people are, not what they do."

Lando ran a hand through his hair, looking a little flustered for the first time all night. "I think I could get used to that. Would it be too forward if I asked to see you again?"

You chuckled softly, feeling a warmth in your chest as you looked at him, no longer the arrogant guy who had first approached you but someone you might actually want to get to know.

"I guess we’ll see," you said with a grin before turning to leave.

And as you walked away, you couldn’t help but notice Lando watching you, looking completely smitten.

[another-lost-mc]

Bitter jealousy simmers into something sweeter when Michael finally meets you, and he's never been good at resisting temptation.

Enlightenment | Michael x gn!Reader

Content Warnings: NSFW. Developing relationships, pining, jealousy/possessiveness, marking, sexual content. 1.8k words.

A/N: I've had this in my drafts for months, thank you so much to the anon that inspired this piece and I'm sorry you had to wait. Special thanks to @silverrings-n-prettythings for proof-reading this.

Michael is no stranger to jealousy. It’s the uncomfortable churning in his gut when he thinks about how close you are to Lucifer and his brothers. A word, a picture, a book, a story - each time he remembers them fondly, and each time it feels like he’s lost them.

It’s difficult to ignore your presence even though he might want to. Luke and Simeon both have their stories to tell and their admiration for you is obvious. There are photos and videos of you together in the Devildom (and later, the human world) and it reminds him of the happier memories he clings to when his family was whole. He misses them and sometimes the doubt and guilt are burdens that feel too heavy to bear, but he is Michael, and therefore he must endure.

Your first official meeting feels long overdue by the time he greets you outside the Celestial Halls. He welcomes you with open arms and a warm smile, exuding all the grace and power his title holds and burying down his own personal frustrations and misgivings. He can only imagine the embarrassing or silly stories you’ve been told about him and the brothers when they were together, but he wants you to leave with a favourable impression of his home, and himself.

As to be expected, you’re fawned over and admired by the other angels. You are their guest, and Michael trusts that you’ll be comfortable and entertained in their company when he’s too busy to spend time with you himself.

On those days, you see each other at mealtimes. You have a special seat in the dining hall at his side at the head of the table. He wants to hear about your day and he’s glad that you’re enjoying yourself. The kitchen prepares fine feasts of flavorful, vibrant dishes you’ve never had before and it pleases him when you seem to enjoy them; he smiles and nods when you hesitate before reaching for seconds.

You quickly learn that Michael’s fondness for sweets wasn’t exaggerated in the slightest when the dinner meal ends. Some angels reach for the fruit salad, or they’re content to sip on fragrant herbal tea. Michael reaches for two slices of cake or pie, whichever was prepared that day, and offers one to you first. He makes sure you’re served before him - it’s only polite, after all. He takes note of which desserts you like and which ones you don’t. Later, he wonders what else you might have in common. For some reason, it feels important, no matter how small or insignificant the details might seem.

Eventually, your visit comes to an end. Michael struggles to admit to himself that he’ll miss your presence as much as the other angels will. His device is filled with the memories of your visit. There’s a charming photo of Uriel showing you how to hold a sword in the training grounds, and Simeon captured a blurry photo of you when you visited one of the ancient lakes. You discarded your shoes on the shore and waded into the crystalline water while gentle waves sloshed against your legs. Even Simeon’s amateur skills with a D.D.D. managed to capture the blinding smile you gave him while your Celestial robes, made for you to wear when you arrived, floated on the breeze. When you’re gone, he looks at them fondly but doesn’t realize how wistful his smile is.

In the days since you returned the Devildom, Michael glances at the seat next to him where you used to sit and finds that he lacks his appetite for dinner and insatiable craving for dessert. He feels lonely in a way he hasn’t for a very long time. It disturbs him. It distracts him. Even when he rifles through paperwork on his desk, he can’t help but glance occasionally at his phone. He’s reached out to you in the past, so why does he hesitate now? Because he knows you now, but it’s not enough. He can only smother the impulse to contact you for so long.

Deep down, he knows he’s selfish. Craving things he shouldn’t have, taking things he wants but doesn’t need. There are truths buried inside himself that he locks away, out of sight and out of mind, but he knows the cages that hold his blasphemous urges shake and rattle when he yearns for something more. Wanting the life he used to have with Lucifer and the others by his side. Now he wants you too.

His fingers tap quickly at the screen and he hits send before he has time to consider the implications of what he’s doing. A bland thank-you message with his hopes that you’re doing well. Enough so that his interest in your well-being is sincere without the expectation of a reply. He braces himself for the subtle rejection of a polite thank-you, or perhaps the awkward dismissal of receiving no response at all, but he’s overcome with relief when the screen lights up with your thoughtful reply not long after.

A polite back-and-forth continues the rest of the day, and throughout the days and weeks after that. Words on a screen soothes the strange emptiness inside him more than anything else he’s tried since your departure: decadent desserts, the pile of books in his room he’s been meaning to read, quiet walks through the secluded part of the Celestial gardens he calls his own. It’s been so long, he forgot what it felt like to make a new friend, and he finds comfort in you. He can bear the disappointment of not being able to speak to you in person as long as he has this, because for a time, this is all he needs.

Eventually, he feels his patience start to run thin. Thoughts of you distract him when he least expects it, triggered by memories of your visit. The vast distance between you feels hostile somehow, a gaping maw he hesitates to cross. The need to be closer to you, to see you and touch you freely, fills him with impatience and longing. He wonders if you feel the same—hopes you feel the same as he does. Would it be rash to invite you back to visit again so soon? He brings it up one day as a suggestion, something for you to consider, and he prays he doesn’t seem as desperate as he feels.

It feels momentous, a long-awaited victory, when you seem as enthused by the idea as he is.

By the time you return to the Celestial Realm to see him again, he considers you much more than a friend even though he knows he shouldn’t. Fanciful thoughts of feeding you ripe berries under his favourite tree lead to more sinful temptations: the urge to pluck fruit from the vine with his own hand, to feel your breath against his fingertips when he places it against your lips. He can picture so clearly the sweet juice that sticks to the corner of your mouth before a drop rolls steadily down your chin.

Why does he feel impulsive enough to want to kiss that sticky sweetness from your mouth and collect the stray drops with his tongue?

Perhaps spending long nights talking to you about increasingly personal things - intimate things - blurred the lines of friendship he tried to draw between you. It’s as if the ground beneath his feet is sand and all it takes is a whisper of your name to make him unsteady.

The subtle changes he’s gone through in your absence feel obvious when he catches his own reflection. His gaze is heavier with something dark and tempting, something needy, so unlike the angel he knows he should be. As much as it would crush him, he wouldn’t blame you if you rejected him. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s gotten carried away by his own selfishness, but when he thinks you might draw back from him, you linger by his side even closer than before.

Perhaps this is your first true meeting after all, when he’s no longer afraid to be himself. No more secrets or half-truths or deceptions. Unspoken feelings seep into every spoken word, every innocent touch, all tainted with a hint of possessiveness so unbecoming of his calling, yet feels so incredibly good. Every time he speaks, his voice betrays how his soul is nearly full to bursting with covetousness and he can’t deny it anymore.

It starts with fleeting moments when you’re alone together, or when the other angels are too distracted to notice how you lean into the subtle ways he touches you. A hand on your back that slides down to curl around your waist, or when he leans so close to whisper hotly against your ear so that his lips brush against your neck. He leans in and breathes deeply, inhaling the tantalizing scent of blooming wildflowers, sunshine on a gentle breeze, and you.

The clothes Michael has made for you as a gift are elaborate and yet revealing, as if you belong amongst the other angels who confidently expose teasing glimpses of skin. It has the unintended side effect of flaunting your pact marks, the dark etched lines like blotted ink that fade and darken at random. He wonders what dark desires and sinful thoughts race through your mind that trigger such a reaction.

Michael recognizes the claim his fallen brothers have left on you, and his own stubborn pride demands he leave his mark on you too.

When he peels the layers of finely-weaved fabric off your body for the first time and lays you down underneath him, his eyes instantly fall to your chest. Lucifer’s mark swirls brazenly near your heart, and Michael traces it with his finger first, and then his tongue. He drags his mouth across your chest and pauses so he can suck your pebbled nipple into his mouth. Shaking hands card through his hair and breathy moans fill his head like cotton as he reclaims each and every mark for himself, one by one, with light bruises and the indentations of teeth. The last one he explores is the intricate design of Asmodeus’s pact mark on your thigh that swirls and weaves into the tantalizing gap between your legs. Surprised gasps and soft moans follow each swipe of his tongue, the soft drag of his teeth, as he kisses your plush thighs. He hides his smile when you groan in frustration as his hands hold your hips in place.

Patience might be a virtue, but there’s nothing virtuous about the way he teases you until he’s hard, heavy and aching inside the silken confines of his robe and can bear this game no more. His mouth inches up, up, up where evidence of your arousal tempts him, and when you breathe his name with sinful reverence, he claims you there too. His name spills from your lips as he drinks down the ecstasy of your release, sweeter than any prayer he’s ever heard, anything he’s ever tasted, and he won’t deny you - or himself - this pleasure ever again.

Read more: Michael Masterlist | Obey Me Masterlist

[vixialuvs]

YOU CAN BE THE BOSS !

୨୧ pairing - heeseung x reader

୨୧ cw - soft!dom hee, hee is readers boss/ceo and reader is hees secretary, daddy kink, oral (f & m rec), reader has daddy issues, praise, unprotected sex, aftercare

୨୧ summary - you’ve always gotten special treatment from your boss, what happens when he spots you at the club with another guy and gets jealous?

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

lee heeseung. a name you know all too well. he’s the ceo of the company you work under, and your boss. he’s also filthy rich and attractive. he’s the perfect man, tall, handsome and smart. every female employee fawns over him, but he just shoos them off. the only one he actually cares about is you.

when heeseung saw you on your first day on the job, he had a feeling he needed to protect you. you just seemed so sweet and delicate, like you were made of porcelain. he made it his mission to be close with you. you, being the lovely girl you are, easily became close with him even though he was your boss, to the point he knows about your daddy issues. but you keep it professional, you continuing to call him sir even though he tells you just to call him by his name.

but, he can’t deny the way blood rushes to his dick when you call him sir.

the amount of times he’d have to excuse himself from your conversations to jerk off in his, thankfully, soundproof office is downright embarrassing. you are so clueless, every time you watch him stumble over his words as he mumbles something about a call he has to take with the most innocent eyes makes it worse.

when you bounce into his office carrying papers, your soft breasts jiggling as you greet him with a sweet “hi sir!” he’s barely able to control himself. he’s just thankful his desk covers his hard-on.

however, you aren’t as pure as heeseung thought. after a long day at work, he decided to party in one of his favorite clubs with a few friends, jay, jake, and sunghoon. the last thing he was expecting to see was you swaying your hips with a couple of girls he recognized as your friends from pictures you’ve shown him, two girls named sumin and sieun. but, you weren’t just with them.

his heart practically stopped when he saw a guy all up on you, and you didn’t even seem to mind, you even looked like you were enjoying it. he could already feel the jealousy bubbling deep in his stomach, glaring at the way the guys hands were on your hips and your thighs, wandering too much for his liking.

the night goes on as heeseung sits at the bar with jay, taking shots as jake and sunghoon danced with some random girls they found, unable to take his eyes off you and that guy. your dress was also skimpy and short, barely covering your ass. it pissed him off even more.

“dude, what have you been staring at?” jay finally asks, downing another shot of vodka. he’s always been the chilliest out of all of them, keeping them in line. heeseung lets out a sigh, rubbing his temples.

“that girl over there. she’s my secretary.” he grumbles quietly, taking three shots in a row. jay raises an eyebrow, confused as to way he cares.

“so?” he says, “why do you care?”

heeseung groans loudly, finally ripping his eyes off you to look into jays eyes.

“honest to god, i don’t know man. i just, i feel so protective over her. she’s so perfect and sweet, and i fucking hate seeing that guy all up on her. she’s too lovely for that, she’s too intelligent, i just wanna punch him.”

he’s not even realizing he’s ranting until jay stops him.

“jeez dude, seems like you like her.” he clinks their glasses together, shrugging his shoulders as heeseung sighs, finally coming to a realization and accepting the fact he wants you. the tip of the iceberg is when the guy grabs your ass. he gets up, ignoring jays questioning and storms over to you.

you were having so much fun dancing with the guy, you didn’t even notice heeseung, your boss, coming over. a pair of strong, muscular arms wrap around your waist and pull you away from the man. you turn your head to see who it is, and your eyes go wide when you see its him.

“s-sir?” you stutter out, freezing up in his arms as he tugs you away. even though he’s so pissed at you he’s still so gentle with you. he picks you up bridal style and carries you out of the club, all the way to his black porsche. heeseung sets you in the passenger seat, sighing softly, but you can hear the irritation in his tone.

“what the hell were you doing all up on that guy, y/n? your supposed to be mine!” he blurts out in a angry, yet hurt tone, not realizing his confession. your eyes go wide, red covering your squishy cheeks.

“s-sir, what..?” you stutter out, extremely shy, looking at him with those sweet innocent eyes.

“you heard me angel, your supposed to be mine. don’t want to see you with those other guys little girl..” he whispers, his thumb stroking along your bottom lip.

“i know you have daddy issues baby. i want to protect you. i want to take care of you. let me spoil you rotten sweet girl. please?” he leans over the console, his lips brushing against your forehead.

his words make your face burn up. you can feel the heat pooling between your legs from his words, your thoughts going wild. all you can do is nod dumbly, your eyes fluttering shut as you lean in to kiss his soft lips, your arms wrapping around his neck. he gladly kisses you back, rubbing your neck.

“that’s it baby. such a good girl. gonna take you back to my place okay?” he mumbles, starting up the car, placing a warm hand on your inner thigh.

“yes daddy..” you unconsciously say, before realizing what you said and starting to apologize furiously but he shushes you.

“don’t worry little girl. i like when you call me that. daddy’s got you, okay?” he smiles at you as he drives, taking you back to his penthouse. when you get there he carries you inside and sets you down in the elevator, where he’s barely able to keep his hands off you, kissing at your neck sweetly. when you finally get up to the penthouse, he carries you inside and lays you down on the bed, immediately helping you out of your dress.

he pulls down your panties, a long string of your wetness connecting to them. he swears and tosses them to the side, hooking your legs over his shoulders and pressing a soft kiss to your clit. he takes your sensitive bud into his mouth, causing you to writhe and whine, he grips tightly onto your thighs, practically making out with your pussy. he moans into your cunt, slowly massaging your soft clit with his tongue.

“daddy! mngh! feels so good, you make me feel s’ good..” you whine out loudly, body jolting as you buck your hips into his mouth. he smirks against your pussy and guides you against his face, rubbing your thighs as he spits on your pussy before pressing his tongue flat against your hole. he smiles against your pussy, staring up at you.

“that’s it baby, just use daddy’s face. you’re okay. ride my face sweet thing. just keep your pretty eyes on me.” he coos, speaking directly against your pussy as he blows hot air on it. he brings you closer and closer to orgasm by the second, knowing your about to cum without you even telling him with the way your moans get high pitched. “daddy! i can’t take it! gonna cum! gonna cum!”

you squeal out, before making a complete mess on heeseungs face. he helps you ride out your high before resting his face on your shaven mound, his chin and lips glistening with your juices. he sits up along with you, tugging his shirt off as you unbuckle his belt, pulling down his slacks and palming him through his boxers.

“baby, take them off.”

he mutters, caressing your hair. you, being the good girl you are, pull off his boxers and crawl onto your knees infront of him. you kiss his tip and wrap your lips around him, immediately deepthroating him. he groans loudly, slightly tugging on your hair.

“fuck pretty, your such a naughty girl, didn’t know you were so slutty.. thought you were innocent.”

heeseung ever so gently fucks your face, unable to resist cumming down your throat so quickly, it’s slightly embarrassing, but turns him on so much more when he sees your eyes tearing up as you gag on his cock.

“thank you love.. i really need to fuck your little cunt okay? wanna feel my bulge in your belly.”

he lifts you up, resting your head back on the pillow as he lines his cock up with your entrance. he’s going to fuck you in missionary so he can see your pretty face. he pushes his cock in your pussy, groaning loudly. “your so fucking tight, i love your cute cunt.” your gummy walls are squeezing him just right, causing him to mutter curses under his breath.

he starts to fuck your warm pussy, holding onto your hips, pressing his warm hand on the bulge in your tummy. he’s watching his cock slide in and out of you, moaning.

“look at that, look how deep your daddy is inside you.. shit, i’m gonna cum.”

he’s so pussydrunk he cums in record time, twice this night. he fucks his cum into you, which drives you to orgasm aswell, he leans down and kisses your pretty lips, keeping his cock buried in your warmth for a while until he finally pulls out to run you two a bath, picking you up and setting you in the tub, washing your hair so lovingly.

“you did so good for me, baby. i love you so much. i want you to be my girl, okay? but im gonna make it official and take you out to dinner my love.”

he whispers into your wet hair, kissing the top of your head, after your bath, he carries you back to the bed since your legs are weak. you fall asleep in the comfort of your daddy’s arms, completely content.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

@vixialuvs 2024. reblogs and feedback appreciated !

[seuonji]

hi!!! im absolutely in LOVE w ur svt x idol series!!! i was wondering what do you think it’s be like if svt and reader were openly dating but were doing a live stream together or were on knowing bros together?

i was watching knowing brothers for minghao recently and i i cant w svt on it theyre so mf hilarious 😭

from aya: OMG THANKS!! i’m so happy people are liking the series and adding on their ideas to it<33 this request is so lovely!! i had this in mind cause i could def go on for hours about how a livestream/variety show between yn and a svt boy would go— so thank you so much for sending it! i hope you enjoy this.

ALSO YES MINGHAO. he is so underrated when it comes to variety shows cause he adds so much to them!! like he’s so sweet yk but also he tends to be so feisty and his comebacks—

(also sorry this took awhile i wasn’t too familiar w how knowing bros usually goes (i only watched svt—) so i had to watch a few before writing this!!)

one ๑ two ๑ three ๑ four ๑ five ๑ six ๑ seven #mlist

svt-yn currently streaming…

ong imagine how much you guys had to negotiate with your company to do a stream together. like mingyu/seungkwan fighting for their lives trying to get it to work out.

then there’s jeonghan/soonyoung/minghao who would just start a live without permission.

general idea of what a livestream would go with them;

—

๑ a sweet live where you both just talk and interact with your fans and answer some questions—seungcheol/jun/jihoon/seokmin/mingyu

throughout the live he listens to you with so much intent.

while you’re reading comments seungcheol/jun/mingyu rests his chin on your shoulder. “ah your fans are complaining, you aren’t paying attention to them!” you read from the comments and pushed his face off you to which he laughed. when he did pay attention to comments he only answered the ones which were related to you, “‘you guys are do cute’ thank you!”

jihoon/seokmin is so eager to just talk about you. they spill so many embarrassing moments + photos of you as you do the same to them.

seungcheol/seokmin holds your thigh or hand throughout the live. + playing with the ends of your clothes.

imagine seungcheol/mingyu pulling your chair with his leg so you’re closer to him.

there’s no denying he’s in love when he can barely take his eyes off you. he loves that he can do lives with you cause he’s doing the things he loves most: entertaining and being with you! also he just likes the fact that he can show you off.

—

๑ you two ordered food—jeonghan/joshua/soonyoung/wonwoo/vernon/chan

your fans fawn over the way they he takes care of you.

jeonghan/joshua/wonwoo/vernon brushes your hair back so it doesn’t touch the food you’re eating.

joshua/soonyoung/chan feeds you so you can try his meal.

you joked about the time jeonghan ate his pimple patch, “you’re so brave for doing another eating live after your previous incident.” “i’ll put a whole pack of it in your food,” he retorted.

soonyoung keeps on making you do ‘horanghae’ with him— it’s awkward when the room is dead silent tho and he just keeps going on. “sorry guys, embarrassment fears him,” you bowed your head.

fans can see how comfortable he is. he acts exactly how he would with svt when he’s with you. there’s a touch of calmness on him, fans suspect it’s your influence that keeps him grounded yet still himself.

—

๑ a live filled with banter from start to finish— jeonghan/minghao/seungkwan

jeonghan/seungkwan literally opened the live with, “i’m with yn from *groupname* so i’m sorry if this is a boring live.”

minghao out here attacking you, your fans, his fans, everyone— he read a comment, “‘i got both your albums and both the pc was of you and yn’” he laughed. “woah that’s so lucky, congrats!” you clapped. he read another comment, “‘i’m so jealous, i got neither’ just print it, it’s manufactured the same way,” he looked at the camera with a serious gaze.

jokes aside, he really enjoyed doing a live with you. fans can see a sort of softness in him when he’s with you. even if his face is relaxed he’s still smiling.

svt-yn currently on knowing bros…

considering how much seventeen have been on that show, they’d take it super lightly + they’d be the one to introduce you.

imagine their introductions…

“i brought someone today!” he announces as he walks in with you.— seungcheol/joshua/seokmin/mingyu

“someone that followed me here i think,” he gave a side eye to you.— minghao/seungkwan/chan

“this is my first time meeting them actually.”— jeonghan/jun/soonyoung/wonwoo/jihoon/vernon

the hosts are super intrigued with your relationship and instantly start asking questions.

—

“who fell first?” (super debatable)

“me?” he answered. “i liked you in 20XX,” you revealed. “eh- you fell first then.” — joshua/jun/soonyoung/seokmin/vernon

“not me.” (it was him who fell first)— jeonghan/minghao/mingyu

“probably me,” he said unsure but he’s saying it with the intention that he’s just loved you for so long it had to be him. (truth)— seungcheol/wonwoo

“them,” he said confidently (he was right)— jihoon/chan

“yn.” (he was wrong.)— seungkwan

—

when asked how you two got together,

seungcheol/joshua would explain it in full detail and he got the hosts giggling and shit with his story.

jeonghan kept on lying about your story— “they kept staring at me i felt like i had to give them a chance,” he looked at the hosts then you. you pushed him to the side and told the actual story.

funny to think about clueless jihoon/wonwoo/vernon. “to be honest, i don’t know.”

jun would be super extra while explaining your story. he gives actions and everything. he acts like he had to climb mountains to be with you but in reality he asked you out while you were walking in the hybe hallways. it was too simple which is why he exaggerates now.

—

during the games session,

๑ playing the game where you have to guess the song.

when a seventeen song played

—you named it faster than him. you danced the choreo and jeonghan/minghao was left in his seat holding a smile back.

—you and joshua/soonyoung answered it together, he took your hand and ran to the center to dance the choreo.

—seungcheol/jihoon didn’t get it- “this is your own song!” you shouted. “i’m sorry?”

when your song played

—seungcheol on his knees begging for forgiveness when he didn’t get it.

—soonyoung/seokmin/seungkwan gets it faster than you and dances the choreo without you.

๑ playing general games— miscellaneous

whenever you get something wrong minghao playfully scolds you but when he gets it wrong it’s suddenly okay to make mistakes- “you won’t grow if you don’t make mistakes.”

high-fives that turn into holding hands with joshua/wonwoo/vernon.

all i can think of is…chest bumping soonyoung/mingyu/seungkwan/chan when you get something correct.

—

general scenarios;

seungcheol/mingyu seems like he’s glued to your side. since you two walked it he hasn’t stepped away from you.

you got the hosts squealing everytime you two do something especially with the way jeonghan/mingyu tends to be touchy with you, to an extent.

whenever you do big actions like through dancing or for a trick, jun/soonyoung/minghao/chan watches you so dazed.

small details and habits of your relationship get showcased throughout this episode.

[triple-7-heaven]

ONCE AGAIN

thank you for waiting for me, readers. i do hope you enjoy it ♡ my first aespa fic, awesome! i've been going through it, thus the lack of content, but things are looking up for me. take care of yourselves, until next time :-) pairing: male reader x winter; words: 6.5k ; categories: aespa, winter, reader insert, smut, slightly storyline heavy

Back in high school, there was a girl who shone above the rest, but wasn’t necessarily popular. A girl who was a member of the math club, the photography club, and the dance team, whose evenings were filled with activities, who made many friends, but wasn’t fawned over by the student body in the way the true popular kids were. 

One evening, you were at school pretty late, tutoring in the library. You were so engrossed in your work that you didn’t notice the time passing, until the janitor came in and told you he’d be needing to clean the library up, so you’d better scram. Backpack full of books, you rushed out of the library, and quickly made your way through the dark hallway. You turned the corner and nearly collided with a small girl, who grabbed onto your arm to steady herself. 

“I-I’m so sorry,” you said, and the girl looked up at you. Oh, perfect… “Minjeong, shit, I’m sorry…” 

“Hosang, what are you doing here so late?” Minjeong asked. 

“Uh, tutoring… You know my name?” you asked incredulously. She smoothed out your sleeve, folded the collar of your shirt down, and tucked her hair behind her ear. 

“You know mine, too,” she quipped and giggled before running to catch up with her dance team friends, leaving you without room to explain yourself. To explain that no, I promise it isn’t weird, everyone knows your name, Minjeong, I’m not a crazy stalker, and I’m not here to spy on you through the gym windows while you dance. But you never got to explain yourself. To be fair, you did admire her from a distance. In the halls, at lunch, you wouldn’t deny that you looked at her with heart-shaped eyes. As pretty as you thought she was, you didn’t ever talk to her, something you would eventually regret. 

Minjeong dropped out, and you didn’t run into her again. After graduation, you headed off to Seoul to learn how to fly, and soon, you realized someone else had come, too. Billboards, advertisements, you name it. For a solid month, wherever you looked, you saw her. 

The same Kim Minjeong who you nearly sacked in the hallway that night, who, instead of yelling or being upset, straightened your clothes and wished you a good night; who knew your name when you were nobody. She was Winter, now, styled with gorgeous long, blonde hair, imposed over ethereal backgrounds and colors. You had to give it to whatever company she was running with, they made that old crush of yours flare right back up again with the way they marketed that girl. Financially stable enough under an air charter company flying small private jets, you decided you’d buy a set of the group’s albums when they debuted. Sitting on the floor of your apartment, pulling the photocards and posters out of those albums, you felt the full force of the regret from your school days: if you’d only talked to her in high school, you could have her number in your phone right this minute… But you were resigned now to being a fan, and a strongly biased one. That’s all you could be. 

-

Charter piloting has benefits. Loads, surely. You’re essentially a glorified taxi driver, charging rich business people and celebrities $20k for a one hour flight from Incheon to Jeju. It’s morally wrong to allow a sucker to keep his money, right? As good as the pay, benefits, and overall experience are, the clientele… Well. Nothing you hate more than a stuck-up diva, and it’s even worse when you’re trapped in a flying metal tube with them. But you make do; the idol sightings you get on the job make all the asshole corporates worth it. From old school stars your parents might know, to drama actors and actresses, to the newest generation of idols, you welcomed a ton of each aboard, more than you could ever remember if you didn’t write it down. Unforgettable guests come along now and then; a trio of Twice members one weekend, some big-name producers behind insurmountably popular groups for a surfing trip, and the casts of award-winning shows on celebratory benders. Unforgettable loses its meaning when your secretary hands you today’s clipboard. 

“This is mine? Thought it was… Uh…” you trail off and your eyes widen. The secretary laughs behind the desk.

“I knew it! You’re her fan, right? You always talk about Aespa. And I know you have her photocard in your wallet,” she winks at you as your face fills with an embarrassingly deep blush. 

“It’s not just that, Jihye. I knew her in high school,” you say hesitantly. 

“Oh my God, it’s like a reunion!” the girl squeals. “Wait, were you cool in high school?” she laughs. 

“Uh… I don’t-” 

“Yup, I knew it,” she says matter-of-factly. “Let me guess, the lame, nerdy guy had a crush on the cool-chick future idol?”

“No! Well, I don’t know,” you say. Your mind is too busy racing to think properly. The young secretary giggles to herself as you walk to the hangar. Preflight routines are difficult to complete when your mind’s racing faster than a Blackbird. Would she recognize you? Should you say something? Nah… You’re kicking tires pretending to be busy and the door opens. The trail end of a conversation… 

“-ng is going to be your pilot. He’s a great aviator and an even better tour guide, so I’m sure he’ll be happy to show you around the island,” Jihye says. That damn secretary. 

“Hosang? I feel like I’ve known someone with- oh, hi,” Minjeong stops abruptly when Jihye walks her around the aircraft to meet you. Long, wavy, dark hair, with bangs curled and blown out to mathematical perfection. Fair, unlined skin of a small and cute face. A simple and comfortable black sweater, a modest manicure, and plain, natural eye makeup. You bow shyly and wave. 

“All good to go?” Jihye asks with the most annoying smile in the world. 

“Yep,” you answer. Jihye departs and you welcome Minjeong to get comfortable while you finish up. A strange look occupies those perfect features as you give her a quick safety brief, then turn to enter the cockpit. Before the door closes behind you, “if you need anything, let me know.” 

Why are you cold with her? Why are you nervous? You hardly smiled at her or asked what she was traveling for… Pure white clouds roll calmly underneath you. You resolve to be nice to her, even if she doesn’t recognize you, because let’s be real, it’s not her fault for not recognizing you. She meets tons of people. You’re just some not-cool kid from high school who had a crush on the cool-chick future idol. A pilot report over the radio snaps you out of it as you enter Jeju International’s airspace. Gusting winds and vertical movement, it’ll be a bumpy ride down. You reach for the intercom. 

“Hey Minjeong, forgive me if I startled you. Looking at some rough air on the way down, but we’re about 20 minutes out. I’d sit down and belt in if you aren’t already, okay? Call if there’s any issues, and think of what you’d like for dinner.” You toggle off the intercom and wonder where the hell that came from. What, Jihye said you’d be happy to show Minjeong around the island, right? So you’ll show her. Your inner autopilot (funny…) takes over and you idly nudge the yoke for your approach phases. Wheels on the ground, hangar door shut, you stand and exit the cockpit. Minjeong looks up at you sleepily, and you sit across from her on one of the bench-style seats. 

“So… dinner ideas?” you ask. Minjeong stands up and points at you groggily, shuffling towards you until her finger pokes the center of your chest. 

“You. You went to my school, didn’t you?” she says, tiredness dripping from her voice. You nod and meet her eyes. “How come you didn’t say anything?” 

“I didn’t think you’d recognize me…” you say softly, honestly. She moves her hand to your shoulder.

“Well you’re bigger, yeah, but… I recognize you. Bigger and taller. Same face,” she says. The smile can’t be kept off your face, unfortunately, and Minjeong smiles too. 

“You sound really tired. Let’s get going,” you say. After a quick post-flight and signing off with the hangar staff, you face her and say: “Gonna change really quick, then we’ll head to dinner.” You slip into the FBO restroom and drop your duffel, then slip out of your annoyingly stiff white uniform shirt. You stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment, then pull on a plain black t-shirt before swapping your slacks for black jeans. One careful ruffle of the hair later, and you’re leaving the restroom to meet Minjeong in the hallway. 

“Alright, ready.” You carry Minjeong’s luggage and she trails behind you, much like a puppy, on the way to the parking lot. The modest rent car’s parked right where the staff told you, so you open the door for Minjeong and she shoots you a confused smirk. You smile back, and hop into the driver’s seat. 

“So what’s the occasion? Family in Jeju?” you ask. 

“Honestly, I… When I get time off, I run a secret travel blog… So I take vacations, and take pictures and stuff,” she says quietly. “I dunno, it’s kind of silly.” 

“How come it’s silly? Sounds fun to me. We’ll have to go to some really cool places so you can write a good post, huh?” you reply. “Now, dinner?” 

“Mm. I’m too tired to think,” she mumbles. Great, now the pressure’s on you to pick something perfect… 

“How about Black Pork Street? Could make for some good photos, and it’s really as good as people say it is,” you say and put the car in gear. 

“Sounds good…” she trails off. Really, really sleepy. But she makes an effort to talk to you. She makes an effort to keep the focus off of herself, and more on you; she asks you how graduation was, since she didn’t go, and you really had to reach deep into your memory for that one. She asks you about flying, about why you chose it, about your life in Seoul, and about how you never ran into each other in the city. You hold yourself back from saying ‘well no, Minjeong, we haven’t run into each other in a city of 10 million people, with about 9,999,999 of those people being more interesting than me.’ When you arrive, Minjeong is lively and excited, telling you about her camera and asking what’s next after dinner. You kick yourself when you start wishing for a specific sort of dessert. Quit being dirty-minded, idiot… 

“Let’s go! I’m hungry,” Minjeong says, dragging you out of your thoughts. She looks perfect taking photos on the street, pointing her camera at the sky, at signs, storefronts, plants, street cats. The way her eyes light up when she takes a good photo, runs over to show you, insists that you take a few of her; she’s not much different than she was back then, huh? A person with a good heart. A person whose heart you’d like to learn. 

“Is it our honeymoon? First date? Must be a first date, you look nervous,” the dorky waiter says, nodding to you. Minjeong laughs, and you blush; the difference between you. 

“Uh… J-just high school friends,” you manage to say. Minjeong jots notes and snaps photos throughout the meal, and as you’re serving up some pork belly for her, she takes a few photos.

“C’mon, make it look nice,” she whines. 

“You’re serious about this, huh?” you laugh. 

“It’s… It’s my baby. My project. My travel blog is like… I dunno, it’s a way for me to be creative, but not be Winter. It’s a way to just be Minjeong,” she slowly explains. “To have a space that’s all my own. Where I can talk about stuff I like, and not worry about press, or netizens, or fans, or anti-fans.”

“I get it. A space of your own. I should call you Minjeong then, right?” you say, nodding your head a bit too fast and a bit too much. She smiles and nods. But she nods like a regular person, not like you. 

Dinner passes without incident. If we can ignore the waiter thing. Do you look like a couple or something? Maybe you do compliment each other. Maybe you seem like high school sweethearts. Maybe you could be. 

“Hosang?” she says as she leans forward. “You in there? Let’s go to the hotel!” You snap out of it for the second time and hop up to lead the way to the rent car. The paperwork Jihye gave you had most of the information listed for Minjeong’s trip, and the hotel she’d be staying in was, of course, the Lotte City Hotel. No less grandeur for the princess. The GPS gets you there quickly, and you pull up to the front doors, leaving the car on as you grab Minjeong’s suitcase. Just as you’re rounding the front of the car and waving goodnight, she makes a confused face.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” she whines. Minjeong the kid… 

“Oh, uh, yeah. I was gonna head to the motel near the airport, that’s where my room is. Did you need something else?” you say. 

God, why do I sound like a customer service bot? ‘Did you need something else?’ Seriously? 

“I… I dunno, I guess I just wanted someone to hang out with,” she replies.

Oh. To hang out? 

“Oh, of course, Minjeong. Let me park, I’ll meet you,” you say. And she’s waiting for you in the same spot once you return to the front door; she didn’t even go inside. Her long, dark hair’s ruffled by the wind. Cute. 

NO. Not cute. Not cute or pretty or hot. She’s my client, my customer, my responsibility; not my crush, my girlfriend, or my next body. Look at the ground or something, for the love of God, Hosang. 

But looking at the ground can’t keep her legs from your peripheral view. She walks through the sliding doors and you follow behind with her suitcase in your hand, and your duffel on your shoulder. Long, slender, perfect legs, and you’re looking right at them. You snap your gaze to the windows and pretend to be looking at the skyline through the windows while Minjeong checks in. After a moment, she turns to you and smiles. 

“Do you have a swimsuit?” she asks. You shake your head. “There’s shops on the bottom floors, go and find one, okay? Meet me on the sixth floor. There’s a pool! The pictures are gonna be perfect!” 

She shoves a room key into your hand and takes the bags from you. You’re left in the lobby, dumbfounded, wondering how you should navigate this. A bellhop whistles at you.

“First night with her? Sheesh,” the young man says. “Score!”

“Weird situation, man. Weird as hell,” you trail off as you walk away, still shaking your head, more so to yourself now. Okay, shops. Swimsuit. You begin to feel insecurity nagging at you. You’re lean, sure, but not perfect. Not as perfect as… Well, nevermind. Quickly, you make your way through the shops, and find a pair of rather plain, mid-length black trunks at a duty free shop, changing into them in the restroom and leaving your shirt on. The elevator ride lasts forever. And ever. And ever. Until the robotic voice announces,

Sixth floor. 

The doors open and you walk quietly out to the open area of the pool. You see one figure in the water already. She’s facing the city, hugging the edge of the pool and gazing at the skyline. The water laps at her back, just below her shoulder blades, and the silky smooth skin of her back is laid out for you, with only thin bikini straps to cover it. Her arms and shoulders are small, toned, but soft. Fancams and jacket shoots could never do justice to the sculpted angel right in front of your face. 

“How’s the temperature?” you say. She turns around. Her top is composed of white strings and back fabric; conservative, but form-fitting to her chest, that Goldilocks chest, the perfect balance of size and shape. Her collarbones are distinct, curved, beautiful. Hell, every curve you can see is perfect, from the angle of her jaw to the base of her neck to the gentle taper of her arms. 

“It’s heated,” she giggles. “Come on!” Insecurity. Nagging. Loudly. 

“Are you sure? I can just hang out and take pictures for you up here, it’s not-”

“Come onnn,” she pleads. You turn away from her and slowly drag your shirt off, then kick your shoes and socks off near where Minjeong left hers. The water is slightly warmer than room temperature, and a welcome change from the chilly air. You sit yourself down on a ledge in the pool, and Minjeong swims to your side, sitting right next to you. Not close enough to touch. 

“See? Isn’t it nice up here?” she says.

“It is. Ever been to Jeju before?” you ask.

“Nope. I think it’s even nicer with a good tour guide.” 

“Ah, come on. I’m not all that.” 

“You’re…” she trails off and sighs. Her hair tickles your shoulder when she leans into you. “I wish I’d talked to you more back then.”

“Hmm? Don’t worry about it, that’s way past us,” you mumble.

“So… If I said I wanted to make up for lost time… What would you say?” she says and you feel her fingertips smoothly run over your leg under the water. 

“I think I’d ask where that idea came from,” you say breathlessly. She moves her hand to your waist, arm around your front. 

“I always liked you. I just didn’t think you liked me, you were always so quiet,” she says. Your hand, now, meets her waist, and your eyes meet hers. 

“Is this okay? I mean… Can you do stuff like this? Now that you’re all famous and everything,” you say, struggling to form any words at all, overwhelmed by the electric sensations of skin on skin underwater. She cups your cheek with a wet hand and nods to the camera bag. 

“Can I get some pictures for the blog? Before… Before I forget,” she finishes cautiously.

Before you forget, huh… Gonna make me take an impromptu bikini shoot of one of the most beautiful women ever. No big deal. 

Minjeong disentangles from you; she tosses you a towel and you dry your hands, then power on the camera. Eyes fixed on the camera’s display screen, you start shooting. She moves through pose after pose, and you can feel yourself hardening. How could you not? A perfect, slim, pale Minjeong, body covered with water droplets, her skin shining in the flash of the camera. 

“Would you check and see if those ones are any good?” she calls to you. You begin scrolling through the photos, and sure, they’re great. It would be hard to take a bad photo of her. 

“Yeah, these are good,” you say. 

“Let’s take a few more, then we can relax a bit,” she says. The camera display switches back to photo mode, and you look through; this time, your heart stops. The screen shows you that Minjeong has shed her top, and now, the camera focuses on her bare breasts, nipples erect in the cold air, water streaming down her chest. Her hourglass shape is all the more prominent now, and you wonder how it would feel to run your hands all over her wet body. You begin to lower the camera, but she shakes her head. “These are just for me. Please?” 

“J-just for you?” you mumble, mostly to yourself. Her poses grow more erotic. She squeezes her breasts together with her arms, grabs them with her hands, and leans over for you to capture a shot of her from the side with her back arched. Now you’re definitely hard, no question about it, but at least now there’s no way she could be mad at you for it. It’s her fault. She moves towards you, and you set the camera on the ground next to the pool. 

“How’d they turn out?” she asks. Her arms reach around the back of your neck, and yours wrap around her waist. 

“You’re evil,” you say into her neck before planting a few kisses there. 

“Oh, how could you say that? It seems like you had a good time,” she says. Her hips grind forward against your cock; she wants you to know that she knows how hard she’s gotten you. “You know, to be really honest, Hosang, you’re the first guy I ever thought about while touching myself.” 

Really? 

“Why?” 

“You’re an idiot- Oh, God,” she’s interrupted by moans as you kiss further down her neck. “I just like you, okay? 

“Well I just like you, too. Always did,” you say. 

“I hope so. Otherwise this could be kind of awkward,” she giggles. You withdraw from her neck to place a kiss on her temple, and finally, on her lips. She tastes so sweet, lips so soft, tongue so aggressive. Her hand grabs onto your hair and she forces your head to turn so she can deepen the kiss. Minjeong seems hungry, desperate. You sit back on the ledge with your high school crush in your lap, her legs around your waist. She’s got both hands on your face, and she observes you like some sort of specimen. 

“What’s, uh, what’s up?” you say, eyebrows raised.

“Your face… As different as it is, it almost looks exactly the same as the face I fell for back then. And I think I’m falling for it again,” she says. You begin to speak, but she places a finger over your lips. “I know what you’re gonna say. Just don’t think about it right now. Don’t. Think. About anything.”

Between her words, she’s taking your hands in hers, and moving them to her bare chest. You swallow. Hard. She’s right. If only for tonight, for this weekend, for a week, you have to just let it go. Her breasts are soft, and she whimpers when you squeeze them. She giggles and moans through a toothy smile when you roll her nipples between your fingers. Minjeong is clay in your hands, melting under every single touch, and it’s your job to make this trip unforgettable for her, to mold her into shapes of pleasure she’s never felt before. 

“You know there’s a sauna,” she whispers through gasps.

“Good idea,” you reply. Water falls from both of your bodies when you stand up with her still wrapped around you, clinging to you like a koala bear to a tree. A quick jog from the pool to the sauna, but the wind still manages to chill you both to the bone. The sauna, though, is comfortably warm. Minjeong in your lap again, you sit on the wooden bench and she devours your neck. Her tongue and breath are hot against your skin and the steam begins to make you sweat already. She stands and takes hold of your hand, beckoning you to follow suit; you stand close to her and she looks up to meet your eyes. Small hands make their way to your waistband. 

“Can I?” she asks softly. You help her slide the trunks down your legs, and your cock springs out, painfully hard, smacking your stomach. Her hand wraps around it immediately, and she moves in to kiss you again. She moves her tongue slowly against yours and her hand works your length all the while; her delicate fingers find the precum dripping from your tip and spread it generously. Delicately, she kneels; cautiously, she licks your cock from the base to the tip before latching onto the head and giving gentle suction. She looks up at you with her deep brown eyes and you place your hands on her head. You’re gentle with her. Your fingers make their way through her hair, and you keep your hips as still as you can, so as not to overwhelm her. You feel the back of her throat suddenly, and a moan escapes your mouth briefly, before you slap your hand over it. Minjeong backs off and strokes you with her hand.

“Don’t… I want to hear you,” she says. You feel your cock twitch, and you let out a sigh. A soft moan when her strokes speed up. “Good…” 

“What if someone-”

“If someone hears? They’ll leave. Don’t worry,” she says. She gives you a few more seconds of suction, tongue massaging your head, then stands back up. You switch places with her, only now, she casually strips her bottoms off and sits on the wooden bench. Her toned thighs spread apart slowly while you stand back to take her all in. 

After all these years, there she is; imagine telling high school Hosang what’s happening right now. Forget moaning her name while I jerk off… She’s right there. 

Beads of sweat roll down your face and body. Minjeong, too; she’s covered in dewdrops of her own. Somehow you think they must look better on her than they do on you. A deep breath, and you step towards her. Her chest rises and falls rapidly under your hands when you give her pert breasts some more attention. You’re on your knees, now, watching her face contort and listening to her voice catch in her throat. If she never wore a bra again, you’d surely be happy. Kisses planted down her body, from her sternum down her stomach, halting at her hipline. You take a moment to stroke her thighs softly with your fingertips, and they shudder. More kisses for her legs, from her ankles up her calves to her inner thighs. Her sweat is salty and sweet. How will the rest of her taste? You look at her again.

"What do you like?" you ask. 

"I… I don't know."

"When you touch yourself, how do you do it?"

"That's embarrassing…"

"When you're using your hands, imagining they're mine, what do you do?"

"..." 

"Show me, so I can do it for you." Minjeong’s eyes are half-lidded, lust-laden. When you look down at her perfect, trimmed pussy, it’s dripping; your words got to her. She takes hold of your right wrist and places your hand on her stomach, thumb on her clit. 

“Slowly,” she whispers. You oblige, and slowly make circles on her clit, spreading her wetness over the sensitive nub. Her next move brings your left hand to her mouth. She sucks on your two middle fingers, taking them deeply into her mouth. Wet enough now, she moves your hand, palm up, near her pussy, and nods. “Inside.” The walls of her pussy are so hot, so scorching hot, inch after inch engulfing your fingers. One curl of your fingers and she’s cursing, moaning, bucking her hips. Poor girl must be starving. 

“Is that good for you, Minjeong?” you say. Your voice seems like it’s dropped an octave and slowed down about half a measure. It doesn’t matter; she can’t answer you, anyway. She’s busy stuttering out your name. Temptation gets the best of you and you move your thumb away. Minjeong whines, but it’s soon replaced by a near scream when your thumb is replaced by your tongue. As expected, she tastes incredible, some remnants of salt water from the pool, but overwhelmingly sweet underneath. She clenches around your fingers a bit.

“F- Oh my fucking-” Minjeong stutters. Her eyes roll back in her head. Her delicate fingers grip your hair, not so delicately. Rapid, shuddering breaths cause her toned stomach to rise and fall quickly, her arms and legs jerk, and the salty and sweet flavor floods your tongue. Unlatched from your hair, Minjeong’s hands grab your face and yank you up towards her face; as you stand, the tip of your cock grazes over her clit. 

“Whoops,” she whispers. Her lips are warm and smooth when they lock onto yours. And you feel her hand creep down your abdomen. Your attempt to break the kiss is foiled with Minjeong’s arm around the back of your head, and her other hand moves up and down your shaft. She’s devious, smiling into the kiss as you fill her mouth with moans, tightly gripping your cock and twisting her hand with her up and down motions. 

Kim Minjeong from high school is jerking me off. Kim Winter from Aespa is jerking me off. 

It’s a mindfuck. She kneads the back of your neck and sucks on your tongue. You can’t fuck her in a public sauna… Can you? 

“Minjeong…” you whisper against her cheek. She looks at you innocently. Like someone who isn’t driving you crazy. 

“What?” she giggles. 

“How about we go to your room? Could be bad if, you know, someone sees us,” you mumble. 

“How about once here, and a few more times there?” she says with a wink. “It’s late, baby… No one will come up.” 

‘Baby.’ 

Minjeong guides you towards her pussy with the hand that had never left your cock. Her legs rest on your shoulders, and you grip her pillowy soft thighs to brace yourself for impact, for entry. Her heat begins to swallow your length, quite easily due to how wet and aroused she is, and she makes the hottest noise she’s made the whole night. And now you’re hilted in Kim Minjeong in a hotel sauna with an unlocked door. Her nails scratch at your chest and shoulders frantically. 

“God, so full…” she moans. 

“You want me to fuck you now?” you put the sultry voice back on. She nods. “When you’re using your toys, imagining they’re me…” 

“Please, Hosang, just fuck me,” she pleads. “However you want. However you need.” It’s all you need to hear, certainly. You pull out nearly all the way, and watch your cock disappear inside of her with a grunt. Your thumbs nearly touch as you wrap your hands around her small waist to pull her down around your shaft with every thrust. All inhibitions are gone, any restraints have been lifted; you’re slamming into her hard, and the both of you moan loudly enough for the reception desk to hear. Minjeong’s tight abs contract and relax under your hands, you look at her face to see her drooling with her eyes rolled back. Like, actually, really drooling. 

“Fuck, babe… You’re really enjoying this, huh?” you say gruffly. You swipe your thumb over her chin and she leans down to suck on it instead. Lustful eyes meet your gaze and your thumb pops out of her lips. 

“I’ve been waiting so long,” she says. A quick sigh to punctuate her sentence. “So many years…” 

“Well-” you try to speak, but she clenches herself around you. “Fuck. I don’t think I can wait any longer than I already have-”

“Pull out baby,” she sighs. “I want to swallow you.” 

Regretfully, you withdraw from Minjeong’s tight hole, but the steam keeps your cock rather warm while she kneels down. After a lick from the base to the tip, she takes you all the way into her throat. She takes your hands and places them on her head, looking up at you sinfully. With fistfuls of her dark hair, you pull back, and thrust in again. She gags and coughs, but she never gives up, and soon, you’re shooting rope after rope, nearly convulsing in pleasure. She strokes you into her open mouth, wringing every drop out of your spent cock. When she’s satisfied, she swallows and stands up to kiss your neck and chest. 

“How about… How about we go to the room?” she says. 

“You want me to stay with you tonight?” you ask. She laughs a bit. Her laugh is fluttering and adorable, a sharp contrast with the noises she was making moments earlier.

“Of course.” 

-

After getting dressed and gathering Minjeong’s things, you head upstairs. In the elevator, you stand behind her; she grinds back onto your groin and brings your hands to her chest. Floors fly by and the number on the small screen goes up as you massage her chest and her delicate moans get you painfully hard once again. She rushes in front of you to the room, giving you another view of those creamy, toned legs, and you do your best to catch up. Once inside, she sits on the bed in front of you and waits. Her hands travel slowly from her hips to her knees, and even slower she parts them with her hands to reveal the glistening skin peeking out from her bikini. Her breath hitches when you step forward and gaze down at her. 

“I showed you what to do last time,” Minjeong whispers. “I want to see what you’ll do on your own.” 

“No pressure, right?” you joke, and she smiles. Her thighs are soft and malleable in your hands, and her neck softer under your lips. You untie the bikini top and cast it to the side, then kiss further and further down her neck. Kisses travel down her neck, over her collarbones, down to her sternum. There’s still salt from the pool on her skin, and you lick towards her nipple before giving it a bite. Minjeong jumps slightly and closes her fists in your hair. Your mouth works on one nipple and your hand kneads the other breast, perfectly sized for your hand. After switching sides once or twice, you kiss her stomach. Her hands move to your shoulders as you kneel on the floor in front of her.

Minjeong’s legs are wide open. You slide your fingers into the waistband of the swimsuit and slowly drag the bottoms down. More kisses travel from her knees across her inner thighs and up to her hip bones. She’s still dripping for you and you drag your tongue upwards over her pussy slowly to savor her. You spit on your fingers and slip them inside of her easily. 

“Ohhh my God-” she whispers and bucks her hips. “Go faster…” 

“Mm, so impatient, Minjeong,” you reply. Your tongue returns to her clit and makes smooth circles. She tenses around your fingers when you curl them back towards you, her moans growing louder, grip on your hair growing stronger. Taking her by surprise, you withdraw your fingers and stand up. While her hands work automatically on pulling your swim trunks down, you take a moment to just gaze at her. Her ruffled, semi-wet hair, strands sticking to her forehead and swaying wildly as she kisses up your thighs. Her flushed, glistening skin, cheeks inflating and deflating with the waves of pleasure coursing up your torso as your length disappears into her mouth again. Her pretty shoulders and arms. Her nose buried in your stomach.

Fuck. 

“You’re really good at that,” you moan. With a yelp Minjeong is scooped up into your arms and tossed, more or less, onto the pristine hotel bed. She pats the bed beside her, and you get the message. You lie back and let her mount you. She guides your tip to her entrance, and once in line, she slams her hips down aggressively. You’re content to let her ride. Her body moves in mesmerizing ways as she grinds on you, seeking the best angle for your cock to rub against all the right places. Just as soon as you begin thrusting into her, your phone starts ringing. 

“Dammit, sorry, Minjeong,” you curse and remove the girl from your lap. Fucking spam call? Really? With the phone silenced, you turn around to see her lying back on the pillows. 

Like an animal, you crawl towards her; you feel like one at least, with the way your cock is throbbing. She pulls her legs up for you, and you guide your tip towards her dripping center. The warm feeling envelops you again and you sigh, eyes closed. Your hands find her waist and keep her torso still while you begin to drive into her. You almost can’t even hear her whines anymore, her voice punctuated by each thrust, curses and iterations of your name following every other sound.

“-nside me,” Minjeong’s voice fades in as your stupor breaks a bit. You lean forward and make a confused expression. “Cum inside me. I want to feel you fill me…” 

And something about the way she says it just obliterates any second thoughts you may or may not have had. Her high, airy voice, begging for such an impure action, intensifies the warm, wet pleasure surrounding your cock. It only gets warmer and wetter as your cum dumps into Minjeong, deeper and deeper inside of her, coating your shaft, dribbling out onto the sheets. Your thrusts slow down, but your dick stays inside; you’re tired. You wrap your arms around her waist, and lie down gently on top of her with your face in her neck. She administers gentle scratches to your scalp. 

“You came so much, Hosang,” she whispers. Her legs settle around your back. 

“Drained all my energy,” you laugh weakly. 

“You’re heavy. Can we switch?” she says. So you do; you roll onto your back. Your cock slips out in the meantime, and you both laugh about it. She fits in your arms like she was made for them.

For a long while you lie there. The cold air condition and the crisp sheets are a welcome contrast to your steaming hot skin and the panting, sweating furnace lying on top of you. Minjeong painstakingly brings her hand to your cheek and kisses the other with soft lips. A slow blink. A thought in your mind. 

Is this what it feels like?

“What are you thinking about?” she asks. She knows. 

“How do you feel about me?” you reply. Her expression is mixed.

“How do I feel… I feel like there’s a reason we ended up on this trip together,” she answers. Her body rises as you take a deep breath. “I mean I feel like something brought us together.” 

“What do you want to do about it?” you ask. 

“I want to find out why. There must be a reason this happened, you know?” she says. A small yawn. “Like… There must be something waiting at the end of a journey we can take together to find out. Or something.” 

Together? A journey? 

“Think it might be time for you to go to sleep,” you whisper. Her baby hairs stick to your face when you kiss her temple. The sheets are smooth and cool when you pull them up over Minjeong’s body and yours. She falls asleep quickly. You don’t. You’re thinking about IFR plans and what to say to her in the morning. Your fingers trace along the smooth skin of her hips and lower back for a while. The softness is comforting. And you fall asleep. 

Is this part gonna go in the blog post? 

[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy for the Devil ~ Part 8

A Donaka Mark x housekeeper!Reader fic, based on @discoscoob 's concept & bot! Warnings: Donaka Mark is a bad man with a soft spot for you. dark romance, possessive behavior, nonconsensual voyeurism, red flag red flag girl!🔺, psychological games, power imbalance, eventual dubcon/nsfw.

one. two. three. four. five. six. seven.

Eight. 八

After that encounter in the screening room, you are extra vigilant as you go about your days, to not get caught in a room alone with Donaka Mark. It's not that you think he will hurt you...just that you don't think you would have the strength to resist him again. But a few days later the staff is in a flurry getting ready for a dinner party to entertain some of Mr. Mark's clients and friends, and you don't have time to think about it at all.

Later, you have been conscripted to help in the kitchen. You dare ask the cook, Mrs. Wong, what tou zai yee means. She is busy prepping food, so she impatiently answers, “Rabbit. Little cute rabbit. Wash these.” She shoves a bushel of bok choy at you, and you get to work. Maybe you defy Donaka Mark on the reg, but Mrs. Wong? You aren’t crazy. 

You help the kitchen staff with serving for the party. The guests are all well heeled and glamorous, which is to be expected. But there is one woman who clearly has her sights set on Mark, laughing at his jokes and finding any and every reason to touch him, placing her manicured hand bedecked in a ruby the size of a quail's egg on his arm--who you cannot help but feel utterly spiteful towards. You keep your eyes down, praying Mr. Mark won't see it on your face.

Donaka enjoys the bustle of the party, his staff scurrying around like minions to wait on him and his guests. It makes him feel powerful, but the greatest satisfaction comes from watching you, watching her fawn over him.

She is absolutely gorgeous, undoubtedly rich, and you feel...stupid, and small as a little mouse. Donaka seems to be enjoying her attentions, and you wonder if she will stay, after all the other guests have gone. Of course he would seek the company of a woman more his equal. All you could ever be to him is a plaything to pass the time in between more glamorous assignations.

Donaka eats it up as the beautiful woman continues to touch his arm, continues to laugh and throw herself at him, clearly desperate to be close to him. His eyes dart over to where you are standing on the other side of the room, watching him between offering drinks to his guests on a tray. He decides to teach you a lesson.

You know its ridiculous, but you are green with envy, as Donaka ducks to say something in her ear, and the two of them disappear from the room. Going to the garden, maybe, or his office. Or even...his bedroom. The thought of it makes you physically ill...and knowing that you’ll have to change the sheets, tomorrow...Goddammit. You have to leave the room to compose yourself, finding that you are trying not to cry.

Donaka walks out of the room, his hand holding onto the woman’s slender arm, her laughing and giggling at his side. He leads her down the hall, not paying attention to the way she keeps talking, her hand touching his arm, her body practically pressed against his. You never see where they go. You stay in the kitchen the rest of the night, helping to clean up the mess.

It's late when everyone has finally left. You are the last one in the living room, tidying everything, cleaning up some broken glass hiding under a chair from one of the guests.

Donaka silently joins you, standing in the doorway of the sitting room when the guests are all finally gone, watching you pick up glass from a broken champagne flute, admiring your skirt riding up your thighs as you crawl on the floor. When you finally stand you gasp to find his towering dark figure there. You’d thought that he'd retired, possibly with that beautiful woman he'd had on his arm. The thought of her makes you stew inside all over again.

“You did a good job tonight,” he says, his voice low as he steps into the room.

"Thank you, sir. I think...your party was a success." Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves immensely at his expense.

Donaka hums softly at your words, closing the space between the two of you until he’s towering over you. “Mmm, yes,” he says. “Everyone had a good time. Especially me.”

The bastard just can’t restrain himself from rubbing it in. 

You exhale through your nose, practically squirming with the effort to remain professional. "I'm glad, sir." He certainly enjoyed himself with that woman. Your hand clenches involuntarily–on the broken glass you’d been cradling so carefully before. You yelp at the pain, the shard stuck in your palm, blood bright as cinnabar welling forth. "Shit," you curse, dashing for the kitchen before you can drip on his expensive silk rugs.

The kitchen is deserted as you go to the sink. The razor-sharp shard is really embedded in the meat of your palm, and you feel light headed just looking at it. You fucking little idiot, you admonish yourself. Well, you hope Donaka enjoys the reaction he got out of you. You wish you were better at shutting down your emotions. It’s a skill you could really use about now. Tears well in your eyes, and your injury is only half to blame. 

“Let me see.” His deep voice comes from somewhere behind you, and you shake your head. His help is the last thing you want right now. 

“I’m fine, Sir,” you say through gritted teeth. “Please don’t bother yourself.” 

But then the solid line of his warmth is behind you, so close, and he reaches around your smaller form with those long arms, taking charge of your injured hand in his. He clicks his tongue at the sight of it. 

Your first instinct is to shy away, but he pins you against the cabinetry with a low, warning growl. “Be still,” he commands, and for once, you obey, every cell in your body aware of this man pressed against your back. You can hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears, your breathing shallow, and not just because of his weight pressing into you. 

Maybe you will pass out. That would serve him right.

“If you’re squeamish, don’t look,” he instructs, and before you can say a thing he’s plucked the glass from your skin, and replaced it with a dish towel, holding pressure on your wound.  "You should be more careful."

You clench your jaw, biting down on your first, second, and third scathing replies. 

A good thirty seconds pass, before you’re able to offer the appropriate, “Yes, Sir.” 

For once, this meek reply does not please Donaka. 

He bends down to speak softly in your ear. “You think I fucked her?”

Furious, you struggle again, to absolutely no avail. His hips and muscular thighs brace you into the edge of the sink, his arms are around you and his hands are holding yours–you’re the one who’s fucked, and not in any nice way. 

“Answer me.” 

You’re pretty sure he can hear you grinding your teeth. 

“Yes,” you admit, sounding as small and miserable as you feel inside. 

“Why would you care, if all you do is run from me?”

Therein lies the million dollar question. You realize tears are rolling down your cheeks when you feel the moisture dripping from your chin. 

“Because I’m an idiot,” you answer, your throat suddenly raw. 

“I know you’re not stupid. Try again.” 

“You’re being cruel,” you protest, praying that somewhere, deep down, this man might possess a modicum of compassion for you. 

“I am seeking the truth, y/n. What more noble pursuit is there in life?”

You laugh, a ragged outburst of sound. You can’t tell if he’s being serious, or his usual sardonic self. Either way, it’s a spring trap set for you with big sharp teeth. 

“I think you pursue truth for the power in it, Mr. Mark. That’s hardly noble.”

You feel him chuckle behind you, more than hear it. How right you were. The security business paid well, but he made his first real fortune plying secrets gleaned from all his cameras watching the wealthy. Some of those secrets were worth more when kept,  and some, worth more sold. 

 “Touché. Fine. We’ll trade. I’ll tell you that I would sooner go to bed with a viper, than that woman tonight.” 

You are not proud of the way you relax in his hold, even if minutely, at hearing that unexpected confession.  “This is none of my business, Sir,” you try to evade.

“Nice try. Now you tell me why that information pleases you.”

“I need to bandage my hand.”

Goddammit if the first aid kit isn’t easily in reach for him. He doesn’t even have to let go of you, to take it down from the overhead cabinet and flip open the lid, carefully removing the towel to administer to your wound with an alcohol wipe and a bandage, all while still trapping you in the circle of his arms. “I’m still waiting,” he tells you, as he wraps your palm with gauze neatly. 

“I think you’ve done this before,” you deflect, floundering for anything else to talk about. 

“A few times.” 

“I guess it’s not a party until someone bleeds…” 

This earns you a huff of laughter. “You have no idea…” 

You’re not sure why his answer unsettles you. When he fastens the end of your gauze you feel a little like a mummy. This was probably overkill, but you were glad for the distraction. You fear the interim is over, when his big hand moves to hold the front of your throat, ever so lightly. It’s possessive, and titillating, and not half so off-putting as it should be. 

“Y/n?” 

“Sir.” 

“I want to hear you say it.” 

With the solid, scalding line of his body pressed against your back, you can feel his heartbeat drumming against your spine, and the bulge of his arousal against you too. It’s all so maddening that you think you might have slid to the floor on your weak knees, if not for him pinning you. You’re going to have an indent in your skin from the edge of the sink biting into your flesh. Your silence stretches on, your body trembling in his arms. You’re not sure you could form a word, even if you knew what to say. 

You have no idea how to quantify your feelings for Donaka Mark. He scares you and fascinates you. He’s so handsome it hurts, but even so, if that had been the sum total of your attraction you could have gotten over it. It’s the way he looks at you, speaks to you–challenges you. Your libido votes to climb him like a tree and fuck him, your higher brain functions insist it’s not worth the price of your soul. As much if not more than your body, this man craves your complete submission. You sense it like a coming storm.

“I’d prefer you to let go of me.”

Again, you feel him growl behind you more than hear it. 

Maybe it's the alcohol he consumed that evening, or the sight of the blood, the act of caring for you. His control is paper thin tonight, and he just can't stop himself from shifting his hold to your jaw, tilting your head up to him, and pressing his mouth to yours.

You always thought a kiss from Donaka Mark would be a soul-searing act of domination–something that bordered on pain. Brutal tongue and clashing teeth and those long fingers tangled in your hair–you can hardly believe it, when this powerful man is actually considerate of you, big hands that could snap your neck holding you with care, his plush lips and his clever tongue sliding against yours. He is not exactly gentle, releasing you only so that he can turn your body in his arms, pressing your front to his. He takes what he wants, and does not apologize for it 

Yet you also feel he is asking you a question with this kiss, and even though you have turned to jelly in his capable hands, your answer is still this: that you are a coward, and maybe a cynic too. 

You cannot believe that Donaka Mark could truly be so caring. It is the enticing glow of the angler fish’s lure, so pretty and soft–beyond lays a monster with teeth waiting to devour you. 

You’ve never wanted to chance it so badly in your life, but in the end self-preservation wins again. 

He actually lets you slide from his grasp, until the last part of you that is touching is your seeking mouths. You hold your hands behind your back, so that you do not reach out for him, the way you really want to.  

You draw back to look up at him, his pupils blown so wide his eyes are truly the jet black of a shark’s. This is the reality of your situation: he is the king of the reef–you are naught but a tasty little angelfish. You are not clever enough, fast enough, mean enough to play with the likes of this man. He would eat you alive. 

Wide eyed, it’s all you can do to shake your head, your words caught in your throat until you’ve backed away a few steps. “I’m sorry…I can’t.” Donaka watches you disbelievingly, as you flee him, yet again, on those quick little feet. 

With a fist clenched at his side, he decides this will be the last time. A seething storm roils within him, and you have no idea the beast you have unleashed in rejecting him, when Donaka Mark offered you tenderness over an iron fist. 

You are going to be sorry.

[akkaweo-akkaweo]

Taste Test

Kim Jennie x Irene/Bae Joohyun x M!reader

Tags: threesome, blindfold, facesitting, edging(?)

WC: 4.5k

—————

Working at a bistro in Gangnam-gu had two quirks that didn't need explanation: first, the money, obviously; and second, the frequency of being around Korea's rich and famous. It's even come to a point where seeing awarded drama actresses or show hosts was less interesting than seeing some more interesting figures come by: chaebol hierarchs, mid-level politicians, and the like.

Tonight, the bistro is restless; busy, but not packed. And as you wait a table of some tech company management, you're called to the front to escort another set of customers.

"Hey, Table 27. You're assigned to Ms. Kim and Ms. Bae."

Those last names may be very vague at first glance, but you were all too familiar with this duo: K-pop royalty Jennie and Irene. This was not the first time you've breathed the same aromatic-filled air as them in this space, but in those times they had patronized the joint with different sets of guests. This would be the first time you spotted them together, much less served either of them.

Quickly adjusting your collar and trying to swallow the fanboy-sized lump in your throat, you meet them at the receptionist's area.

"Good evening, Ms. Bae, Ms. Kim. Please follow me to your table," you say, as rehearsed a thousand times by now. Nothing to freak out about. The two are busy with their respective phones, but are noticeably missing their usual entourage of managers and bodyguards. And as you lead them to a more secluded and closed off portion of the bistro, you catch them putting their phones away completely. You didn't think idols could be autonomous to this degree, but you set aside the thought as you pass menus to them.

"There's no need for that, dear, thank you," Jennie said with a smile. "I'll just have an espresso please."

"Right away, miss. And how about you?"

"Do you have any teas? Just a pot of whatever you have tonight," Irene replied.

You note their orders and head to your station. The location of the console where you prepare the coffee is just close enough to catch their conversation, but a glass divider mutes it enough that the clinking of spoons on ceramic distracts you away from it. Doesn't seem like anything particularly interesting though; both just seemed to be catching up from a break in their respective tour schedules.

Upon finishing their orders, you bring them over, with the usual pleasantries to exchange. "Is there anything else I can get you, miss?," you ask.

"If you don't mind me asking," Irene chimes in, "are you new here? I don't recall your face."

"Actually, I've been working here for almost a year, miss, maybe almost two," you respond. Staff normally aren't supposed to talk to customers so casually, but you decide that it wouldn't hurt to do otherwise being out of view from the rest of the crowd.

"So why here then? You have quite the face, why not anywhere else?," Jennie asks.

You try to charm your way out of an obligatory, potentially shameful monologue, saying "Well, short answer is, I do it for the money. Don't we all?"

The two giggle, and inside you're running a football victory lap for nailing a perfectly executed quip. You leave them to it and attend to other tables, but you swear you could catch them glancing at you time to time. They call you over a second time about thirty minutes later.

"Good evening again. Did you enjoy the drinks? Anything else I can get for you?," you say.

"It was great, I don't actually think I've tried the tea here. You have good taste," Irene replied., "but yes, we would like some dessert as well."

"Alright, what would you like?"

"How about you put that taste to the test and surprise us. We trust you," Jennie butted in, with a little smirk. While you would normally be fawning over the gesture, you also felt a growing fear of embarrassing yourself. You swallow the feeling, responding with a half lie, saying "I think I have just the thing."

You walk back slowly to the counter as you ponder on what the pair would like. After a few seconds, you had an idea: Jennie might like a light cream-based pastry, and Irene would probably prefer a sorbet or anything with fruit. You find the closest approximations in your menu and bring them over. To your relief, it seems you've delighted them once again.

"Spot on with the choices, I love it," said Jennie. "How about you Joohyun, what's your verdict?" Irene, however, seemed too busy savoring the treat. "Well, I guess that speaks for itself. Three points for you."

"Thank you, miss. I do believe that's all orders complete, anything else I can do for you?"

Irene, having finished her plate, replies, "How about the bill? We have some other plans tonight."

"Certainly, miss. Just a moment."

As you leave, you can overhear them bickering and exchanging whines and banter. Probably fighting over who pays, as is custom. By now the bistro is taking its last set of customers, so the discussion isn't as hard to overhear. As you return, though, it seems an agreement had been settled; you resolved to keep this interaction short to avoid getting told off.

"Here," Irene said as she handed back the holder. "Please hand this to your manager, there's special instructions for how to use the credit card in there. He'll know how to handle it."

"Of course miss. Thank you," you replied, walking to the cashier.

A part of you felt a bit sad that your interaction with the two was coming to an end. Nonetheless, work is work, and you call your manager.

"Sajangnim, I was told to hand this payment to you."

Your manager looked puzzled at first, but opened the receipt anyway, followed by a quick furrowing of brows. Was something wrong? You try not to overthink it, considering he processes the payment in a few moments. He hands you back the receipt, with the same half-puzzled, half-concerned look, adding, "Did you talk to the customers that much? Move to the front end when you're done with this."

Uh oh. Were you in trouble, for casual conversation no less? The struggle to not overthink is getting difficult at this point, but you have no choice but to stomp it down. As you reach the table, however, you notice the pair are missing already.

Panicked, you rush to the front end to ask your colleagues, and it turns out they were just about to ride their car. You rush out and call for them, hoping to return Irene's credit card before you cause a nationwide scandal.

"Miss! Please don't forget your credit card!," you call out.

The next 10 seconds are a blur. You reach the vehicle right as Irene steps in, and before you could try and call for her attention again, a cold hand grabs your wrist and pulls you inside the van. When your brain has processed the situation, you find yourself inside the black van, facing Irene and Jennie.

"I'll be taking that," Irene said, breaking the silence and swiping the credit card you were still holding in your hand. "You've been such a wonderful server tonight."

"That's why you're here with us," Jennie added. "Don't worry, your manager already knows. The whole credit card thing was a lie."

"Hey, it wasn't a complete lie. It's still a special credit card that I absolutely cannot afford to lose," Irene interjected. "Good thing we had you, right?"

The two started teasing each other, probably hinting that they both had a role to play in what just happened. You, on the other hand, are still evidently puzzled trying to process what had just happened.

"Relax. Consider this an early clock out," Jennie reassured. "Because you've been such nice company tonight, we have one last series of tests for you."

"How exactly is kidnapping me and testing me an act of gratitude?," you blurt. The shock starts to subside and you piece some things together, but try not to assume too much nor think too highly of yourself.

"I mean, would you like us to leave you back in there? You could go back to waiting tables, that's fine with us. But," Jennie pauses, placing a hand on your shoulder and leaning in a bit closer, "where's the fun in that?"

You pause for a second, looking straight into both idols' eyes for a few seconds. They looks seem as sincere as their words.

Without hesitation, you reply, "Well, if you trusted me, I'll trust you as well. Please take care of me."

Irene claps her hands before pulling out a black cloth. "Okay," she adds, "let's start with this."

~~~~~

Blindfolded, your ears are a little more sensitive than normal. In the 15 minutes you gave up your sense of sight, you got off the car, were escorted slowly and carefully by the duo across a bunch of corridors, and brought to what sounded like a medium-sized room (on account of how much their giggles seemed to fill the space easily).

You try to ask a question to gauge your surroundings. "Any chance this blindfold is coming off soon?," you ask.

Someone put their finger over your lips, replying, "Shh. Don't think about that just yet." The voice was a bit higher in pitch, maybe that was Irene? Seemed likely.

"So, are you ready for our little game?," a deeper voice asked. That must be Jennie then. "We're not gonna stop you from saying no." The aforementioned sensitive hearing was most obvious as you felt two different breaths whistle from each side of your face.

Nervously, you try and crack a joke. "Hey, as long as neither of you are serial killers, I think I'll be fine."

"Like I said," the deeper voice chuckled, "you're way too cute to be a waiter." Suddenly, a pair of lips peck yours. Now, your sense of hearing might be a bit stronger, but trying to identify a pair of lips from a kiss? That would almost be a superpower — one you wished you had as a softer voice started to talk.

"I guess that's your first test then. If you can successfully guess which one of us is kissing you three times in a row, you get a step closer to removing the blindfold."

Before you could interject with a "But that's impossible!," another pair of lips meet yours, this time kissing you deeper than the last. After a few seconds, you're asked, "so who do you think that was?"

You took a second to try and think, but the mere shock of what happened in the past few minutes alone blinded your intuition even more than the cloth over your eyes. You take a shot in the dark. "Uhh... Irene?"

"Nope. Try again."

Another pair of lips, this time her tongue meeting yours. They feel a bit less plump this time, and after the kiss ends, you're asked the same question. "What's your guess this time?"

"No, that's Irene. I'm sure."

"Please," a different voice replied, "just call me Joohyun. And yes, that was me. Two more guesses to go."

Another pair of lips meets your cheeks, moving down your neck. The sensation shocks you too much to make a more educated guess other than "I think that was Jennie?"

"Oops, guess you're back to square one," a voice taunted. You couldn't explain it, but the two voices started to match each other, yet were somewhat distinguishable. You could tell the one who just spoke was Jennie, so maybe it was Irene that time?

The test proved to be much harder than you thought. The two alternated between light pecks all over your face and neck, deep make outs, or some mix of both. At different points, their kisses sank deep into your skin, causing you to tremble and moan. And for every instance of that or any wrong answers, a couple of giggles follow. It was never actually long enough to catch any hints right away, but about 6 tries later, you actually make it to a second correct answer: you figure that Jennie tends to be a little bit more aggressive, while Irene was softer, but still playful.

"Last chance," Irene taunted. "Ready?" You give a simple nod.

This round's pair of lips go straight for your neck, but move lower to your collarbones as your dress shitt is slowly unbuttoned off you and exposing a bit more of your upper chest, at least what wasn't covered by any undergarments. Without warning, a second pair of lips meets yours, and starts making out with you. Fuck, both of them at the same time? Did they even want to do anything else except play with you?

Both lips stop at the same time, and Jennie asks, "So, who kissed you that last time?," which threw you off guard. You tried to give it serious thought, trying to think of whose lips you felt on your chest.

With a bit of hesitation, you reply, "That was Joohyun. Jennie was the one all over me."

A short bit of silence freaked you out, before being broken by Jennie. "Finally. We thought we'd have to let you go too soon."

"How about you show us how you kiss this time?," Irene says, as she grabs one of your hands and places it on her cheek. You try to hold back, scared of shocking the delicate woman, but another hand – Jennie's – turns your head the other way. "Don't hesitate. You're good," she adds.

They take turns guiding your hands to their cheeks, to signal whose turn it was to have a taste of you. After a few turns, both of them start working your undershirt off you, taking turns on your chest and neck. You weren't the most buff, but you could feel their soft lips cover you little by little. The past however-long-it's-been of teasing has most definitely gotten you hard. A hand glides over your groin ever so slightly, which is enough confirmation for them to continue.

Jennie giggles, breaking the silence. "Looks like you're ready for the second test."

"What makes you say that?," you reply nervously, your breath still rushed.

A hand guides you to what felt like someone's shoulder, down to their chest. You feel a soft handful of skin and cloth fit into your palm; instinctively, you squeeze, and you hear a soft, low moan. That's what that was. When did they even remove their dresses?

"I see you get the idea," said Jennie. "Same thing: three consecutive tries to guess who you're touching, and this time we'll actually remove your blindfold."

"Feel free to do whatever you want to figure it out," Irene added. "You're doing great."

This time, your other hand is guided to a bigger, softer handful. You guess Jennie, and you're correct. The second time however, your hand touches something warm, and your fingers are squeezed tightly inside wherever it currently is. You try to feel around, and you hear a louder moan just as deep as the last.

"Was that still Jennie?," you try and guess.

A voice whispers in your ear, "Nope. But that was good." Irene.

Just like last time, the two take turns having you touch their breasts or through their panties. You never realized how similar their bodies were; with every guess, each groin you touch is hotter and wetter, each nipple poking into your palm more sharply than last. It takes you less tries this time to get to two in a row, about 4, and by then the room felt much hotter – or perhaps it was just you, extremely flustered by the nonstop moaning in your ears that most definitely left you a little bit wet as well.

"Okay," Jennie huffed, since she was the last one you touched. "Another twist."

You feel your pants finally come off slowly, and both of them sit on either one of your thighs, slowly rubbing themselves against your legs. Their hands make their way all over your back and your neck, and you try to respond by reaching out for both their chests to play with their tits. Their moans are a bit too similar now, both louder than before.

You try to even the playing field by trying to remove their bras, and making your way to suck on their nipples. Whoever you were doing that to, their moans got louder. You could feel Irene's more toned body and firmer breasts on your left, paired with a deeper, more throaty moans. To your right, Jennie's higher pitched moaning matched her softer features pressing on you: her thighs, her breast, her arms grasping you.

Struggling to get a word in from the overwhelming amount of pressure, you gasp, "It's... Irene... I mean Joohyun... on my left, and... Jennie on the right."

Moans turn into pleased giggles. "Fuck, you're good," Jennie said under her breath. A pair of arms wrapped around your head, and you could feel the blindfold come off.

After being glared by the single lamp in the room, you can see both idols in full view: both their dresses and bras on the floor, and a pair of frazzled heads of hair and deep lustful gazes staring back at you. You proceed to take turns making out with them again, as you try and stand up to get them off. You find a bed right behind you, and you take them there.

Jennie and Irene are now both spread out on the bed, each trying to catch their breath. "You took care of me, how about I take care of you next?," you said.

You slowly work the panties off Irene, and Jennie sits up to kiss your chest. Irene comes in with a kiss to Jennie's lips, distracting her enough from you to get her panties off next.

"Don't worry, you'll definitely get to do that for this last test," Irene replied.

"Haven't I proven myself enough, miss?," you respond sarcastically.

"Not with tongue of yours, you haven't," Jennie added. "Here's the deal: one last round of being blindfolded. Three correct answers, not consecutive this time. Just three."

"The catch?"

"Just guess who's tasting you," cooed Irene.

"And the reward?"

"I think you know that already," Jennie teased.

Any sense of inhibition has left you at this point. "Surprise me," you reply.

Jennie grabs the blindfold from the floor and places it over your eyes once more. "One last thing," she adds, "if you cum, you lose."

Once more, before you could muster a "Wait, what?", you're pushed down on the bed and a different pair of lips meet yours.

Jennie's warning makes much more sense when you feel two pairs of lips start to work on your dick. Just the sensation alone of both of them working their tongues along its length, giving it light kisses and occasional licks, was enough to get you throbbing.

The pussy on your face is warm and wet, and you feel your cheeks and chin drenched. Every entry of your tongue deeper into it brings out a moan, which while being sucked off brings more pleasure-filled vibrations down to your base. The challenge is getting the one you're licking to make a recognizable sound, but your own stimulation makes it hard to focus. You catch a lucky break however, and you hear Irene's moan with a flick of her clit. "That was Joohyun!," you rush to say, trying to get the two to give you a break.

"Good job," Irene replied. "Two to go!"

You can feel the pair getting off the bed and walking around, likely to throw you off from assuming they'd just switch places. Your face gets sat on once again, while someone rides your thigh like last time. This time, a pair of hands meet at your cock, taking turns to stroke either head or shaft. You could hear their moans, but this time it seems they were making out with each other, because they seemed to be coming from the same area. You reach ever closer to the edge, and you try to focus on the pussy you have to taste. However, you don't find anything in particular to make an educated guess, so you blurt, "Is that Jennie?"

"Nope," she replied, with a light tap to your dick, as if to mock you. "Though Joohyun here is loving all the attention."

The girls get off the bed again, and you notice the one sitting on you this time is facing the other way. No one is at your dick fortunately, but you can hear Joohyun moaning. Something does feel different however, from the taste of the fluids drenching your face to Irene's moans sound a bit too distant. You weren't sure however, so you kept going for a few minutes (to also catch your breath), and you notice Joohyun's moans didn't match your pace. You make a guess again. "This is Jennie."

She lets out a deep gasp, as if she was trying to hold everything in. "That's two," she adds.

"One last," Irene chirps. Same routine, but this time it's back to facing the other direction, while another starts grinding along the length of your dick without getting it in. This was the toughest one yet: not only were the moans muffled with them making out with each other, or simply being right up on each other's faces, but whoever was grinding you was really good at it. You feel yourself ready to burst any minute, so you try to fixate on anything: the direction of the moans, the taste of the squirt, now mixed with sweat, anything. No dice, not for the two longest minutes of your life.

Desperate to not lose, you beg, "Let me guess!," hoping to buy time.

"Go," Jennie gasped.

"Hurry... please..." Joohyun added.

The synchronicity of their moans alone was testing your resolve to the fullest. But you think you've got it, from the taste on your tongue to the way your face was ground on.

"Fuck, get off Jennie! It's Joohyun on my face!," you plead, as you feel cum start to well up inside you.

The two get off the bed, and you remove the blindfold yourself. You're all heaving and gasping for air. You check to see who's closest to you: it was Irene, and Jennie, facing you from the farther end of the bed, looks at you. She stares for a few seconds – her eyes were incredibly seductive – and gives a smirk.

"Looks like... you won. You're good," she said.

Joohyun adjusts to meet your eyes as well. "Guess I guessed right when I said you'd be great in bed," she added.

You look up, staring at the ceiling, still dumbfounded at everything that's happened in the past... hour? Two? You've lost track. But you felt the two women crawl closer to you on both sides, starting to make light, tender kisses all over your neck and chest.

"We're sorry if we went too hard on you," Joohyun said. "We don't usually last this long with anyone... and we certainly don't feel as good as with you."

"Too good to be just wait staff," Jennie repeated. "But, I guess it's time for us to serve you then."

Their hands make their way down to your dick again, stroking it at the right spots to give you chills, but light enough to not bring you too close to the edge. They seem much more experienced than you thought – probably since they were a bit older than you as well.

"You can do whatever you want with us now. No more tests," Irene whispered in your ear.

"This is the best aftercare of my life," you joke.

Jennie giggles by your other ear. "How can you still make jokes?," she sighs, before locking her lips with her yours. Irene meets both of you in the middle, and the three of you take turns kissing each other, occasionally meeting all three tongues in the middle.

The two split away from your face and make out with each other, and you sit yourself up to watch them turn their backs to you as they flash their pussies in front of you. You don't see their faces, but you feel them start to work their mouths over your dick again, slow and steady but enough to lubricate your whole length, bottom to top.

You take advantage of your position, and moving up the bed to lean on the headrest, you play with their clits, much more properly now that you can actually see what your doing. Their light moans were enough assurance you were doing the right thing, doing the same process of sending waves of pleasure all over you.

You don't hesitate to try and please them more, moving between using two fingers and going back to rubbing their clits. The moans intensify; Jennie's moans turn into high pitched screams, and Irene's turn into chest-deep heaves.

Joohyun, unsurprisingly, is the first to buckle. "Fuck! I'm gonna...," she trails off, before holding her breath letting it all out in a single squeal. You can feel her cum all over your fingers, coating it thick.

"Please," Jennie begged, "me too." You oblige, and you use a third finger to try to stimulate her. Fortunately, it was enough to send her body trembling, and a bit of her juices sprayed out and all over your arm and the bed.

Both ladies catch their breaths before turning to face you, and resume blowing you, with a last wind of effort to try and fish out an orgasm from you. They take you in their mouths all the way, and you throw your head back, inching closer to actual release.

"I'm gonna cum," you try and warn them, but the pair stare at you while they do their deed, resolved to make you finish. They clasp their hands together with your dick in between and start stroking you fast. You find yourself moaning to a backdrop of Irene and Jennie begging for your cum, and before you know it, you burst all over their hands and faces.

They seemed to have fun licking each other up right after, sucking on each others' fingers and exchanging kisses to suck up any stray strings. They have quite the bond, managing to giggle and tease even after such a tiring night, up until they lie down by your sides once more.

"So," you break the silence again. "Did I pass your tests?"

Irene puts a hand over your chest. "With flying colors."

Jennie, however, props herself up on an elbow. "Though, I think I'll be visiting that bistro more often. Just to see if you've still got it," she added with a wink.

"Is that a challenge?," you tease.

"Sure," Irene replied, "if you don't mind us upping the difficulty."

"Well," you said, thinking hard about your answer for a few seconds.

"Then what can I do for you, miss?"

—————

A/N: much longer than my usual, and honestly a bit fun to write. hope it didn't drive you crazy with the length, though i'm pretty sure there's longer here.

[messycunt]

So.. I just red your Hucow Collection on Ao3 and that alternate AU where MC is the Breeding Cow had me well.. Listening? Reading? Blushing, Screaming? Ahem. No because imagine Cow Hybrid! MC as the farms breeding Cow🗣

All the Bulls fawn over her and just want to breed her silly. Of course, crowley would make immense Profit from having his bulls mate with such a pretty little cow! Or the rivalry that would blossom between the boys! Oh and not to forget MC's best selling Milk! It just tastes so sweet that everyone wants some💕

Just wanted to share that thought with you! (feel frew to write about it)

May i take the place/role of 🎀 - Anon if it isnt taken already?<3

Eat enough and stay hydrated Lovely💋

WELCOME BOW ANON I whipped this up in like 15 mins just throwing stuff out there 

characters: Cater, Trey, Ace, Deuce, Crowly, Vil, Rook, Epel, Riddle, Idia, Kalim, Malleus, Lilia 

cw: hybrids(hucows), lactation, breeding kink, exhibitionism, three/foursome, double penetration in one hole, dumbification, afab reader

so so much can come of this like just go along w me here kay?

Ace and Deuce being too impatient to take turns with you like usual but too horny to bother properly fighting so they resort to trying to shove themselves into your dripping hole at the same time. Stretching you almost to your limit but it's ok because you'll endure it for them right?

Cater and Trey share you often as well but not in the way you'd think, usually their "shared quality time" with you involves Trey doing all the actual pussy pounding and Cater off to the side or in a corner somewhere(taking a few pics and vids for later) at his own personal insistence. He'd rather enjoy the view and Trey knows how to get you worked up better anyways in his own words.

Riddle's favorite thing about you is your breasts, especially drinking from them. It's warm and comforting and he enjoys cuddling up close to your chest and suckling from you after sex more than he does the sex itself. He would die before he would admit that to you tho.

You didn't think Crowley would let the boys have all the fun without having his own fill from time to time did you? Sure he keeps you all more than taken care of and well fed out of the goodness of his heart but it gets so tiring and stressful sometimes. Surely you wouldn't mind keeping him "company" under his desks while he works would you?

Kalim thinks you're adorable! Your eyes are so pretty and your ears are so cute and soft to the touch, well his are too but yours are special cus they're yours! He just loves touching and licking and kissing you all over.

The Pome trio oh boy. Whether it's making out with Epel as he desperately gripes at your body while you're both pounded by Rook and Vil respectively or innocently taking Rook and Vil up on their offer to service you with a full body oil massage they've always got something that they thoroughly planned beforehand ready for you.

Idia's intense infatuation[read obsession] with you is more than enough to have him act out of character from time to time. He is unexpectedly blunt with you about all the almost grossly kinky things he'd like to do with you, or what he'd have you do to him in most cases. Unsurprisingly tho he loses most of his tack in the moment, poor boy gets so deliriously pussy drunk you'd think he's the one getting their guts rearranged.

Malleus is rather possessive, shocker I know. It would be delusional of him to think he could have you to himself in the traditional sense but he at very least likes to have you to himself in the heat of the moment so sharing you is completely off the table… with one exception. Lilia finds the love Malleus has for you cute and has inclined himself to join in on your endeavors once or twice. Bringing his hands to your chest from behind you to pinch and pull at your leaking nipples while you ride Malleus like your life depends on it. Whispering cheeky things into your ear before locking eyes with the large black pelted bull and urging him to pump you full of his seed and impregnate you with his calf. 

more

[esamastation]

Shizuroth, part eighteen

Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen

-

Why hasn't he ever gone shopping with Sephiroth before? Aside from the fact that Sephiroth was socially repressed and awkward and aloof and would've never lowered himself as to be seen in public with anyone. And the fact that Genesis didn't want to even think about sharing his few precious moments of downtime with Sephiroth, of all people. And also the fact that Genesis was pretty sure, at least up until this point, that it would be an excruciating experience for everyone involved….

But it turns out that Sephiroth makes for a hilarious shopping company. The man is unexpectedly prissy and demanding - and, really, quite fussy when it comes to his looks.

While waiting for his coat to be readjusted, Sephiroth is putting on a fashion show in the tailor's very cushy dressing room.

"No, the hue is too cold - can you please get me the darker green one? Same size," Sephiroth says, making faces at his reflection, after trying out about a dozen different, almost identical, button up shirts. 

"Right away, sir," the rather flustered tailor's assistant says and scurries off.

"I never thought you'd have a favourite colour," Genesis scoffs, lounging back on a fancy armchair while watching as Sephiroth accepts the shirt from the eager tailor's assistant. There's a pile of rejected and another of accepted articles of clothing nearby, and they're all in shades between dark forest green and the lightest shade of mint green. 

No matter how much mess Sephiroth caused, the store would be making a big sale today - so much so that they'd closed early, just for Sephiroth.

But then again, there probably isn't a store in Midgar that wouldn't close for Sephiroth.

"You've never worn green before," Genesis adds, leaning back on the comfy armchair lazily and enjoying the VIP treatment - which includes coffee service and everything.

Tch. He was a VIP patron too - but they'd never closed the store for him.

"Hm," Sephiroth answers, deftly buttoning up the shirt and adjusting the cuffs, before pulling on the jacket of the suit he'd been trying on. Because that's what he's doing, trying to colour match a suit. A very light green suit.

It doesn't suit him.

"A much better match, sir," the tailor's assistant says, a little too eagerly, all but fawning over him. "You have such a keen eye."

"Is that so," Sephiroth says noncommittally, making another hilarious stink face at himself while buttoning up the suit jacket. He still doesn't look satisfied.

"It washes you out," Genesis points out the obvious and swings to his feet. "My friend, you simply don't have the colouring for such pale hues."

Sephiroth sighs unhappily, giving his own reflection a disappointed look. It's almost a Goddess damned pout. "I don't, do I?" he says in defeat. "And the green really doesn't do my complexion any favours."

"It really doesn't," Genesis grins, clapping him on his shoulders. "I'm afraid black is still your colour." 

Sephiroth sighs again and then looks at him thoughtfully. "What is that shirt you're wearing?"

"Alas, it's not high fashion. A Shinra issue," Genesis explains with a sigh. "Mass produced and utterly commonplace."

"Huh," Sephiroth looks surprised. "It… looks good?"

"Oh, spare me, I know it doesn't, but when you go through so many it's simply easier to get them in bulk," Genesis says, shaking his head. "Bullet holes simply do not come off, after all. And the SOLDIER uniform turtlenecks are just about the only good article of clothing Shinra has ever produced."

Sephiroth hums, looking him up and down and turning back to the mirror. Then he sighs. "Please get me another version of this suit," he says to the tailor's assistant. "In black this time."

"Right away, sir," the mostly useless assistant says, doing a remarkably good job at not bouncing in excitement. "And for a shirt, sir?"

Sephiroth looks at himself for a long moment. He scrunches up his nose and then mutters, "... I suppose it should be in red."

"Stealing my style, now?" Genesis asks, leaning against his shoulder. "Also what is wrong with red?"

"It's not just red, rather the combination of black and red… ah, never mind. I suppose it will bring out my eyes," Sephiroth says, like he's admitting defeat.

It will bring out his eyes? Who is this guy and what has he done to Sephiroth? Genesis snorts and claps him on the shoulder again. "If you say so."

He's right, though. Red and black look much better on Sephiroth. As does the suit. Genesis has never even imagined Sephiroth in formal wear before, but…  it's not a bad look.

"You know, one fight in those delightful clothes, and they're in very expensive shreds," Genesis points out, while idly trying on some gloves, wondering if he should invest in some formal wear.

"Why would it be in shreds?" Sephiroth asks almost resentfully, turning to select a tie. He's actually a little mad about red and black suiting him so well!

Wow.

"You…" Genesis starts and then sighs. Of course Sephiroth doesn't remember. "Fancy and very fitting," he adds, just to dig it in, "though they are, clothing of this calibre can't stand the types of battles you and I get in. That's why we wear leather. Or mass produced uniforms we don't have to pay for."

Sephiroth just sort of blinks at him, easing the tie over his head. "You've worn a uniform?" he asks, dubious. "You?"

"Yes, I have worn a uniform - I had to go through the whole two ranks to get where I am now, didn't I?" Genesis asks, testing the gloves by spreading out his fingers. They're fingerless and quite nice. "Not a fan of trousers, I admit. I never had the ass for them."

Sephiroth coughs at that, smothering a laugh, and tucks the tie into his collar. "I see," he says, looking down at himself in order to adjust the tie.

Genesis leans back to watch him. "Neither do you. Or, rather, you have too much shoulder going on. Far too top-heavy, you'd look ridiculous."

"Thanks?" Sephiroth says, amused, and then turns around to face him, a black tie firmly in place. "How do I look?"

"Like a damn Turk," Genesis scoffs. A very good looking Turk, but one nonetheless. He turns to the starry-eyed tailor's assistant. "Get him one of those great coats from the back - a black one, obviously, with red lining if you have it."

"Ah, those aren't leather, sir - mainly cotton and wool," the assistant says apologetically.

"Then get us a fancy wool one, and then go check how your master is coming along with our order."

"Y-yes, sir, right away, sir!"

"Please and thank you," Sephiroth says to the assistant, who almost trips hurrying off. "There's no need to be rude, Genesis."

"Who's rude? It's their job," Genesis huffs and folds his arms. "You rock up at Shinra tower looking like this, and they'll start making you go to functions too."

"What do you mean, functions?" Sephiroth asks warily.

"Parties, galas, meet and greets, maybe even interviews," Genesis scoffs. He's usually the one who has to go - he was more presentable than Angeal, who didn't know how to swim those waters, or Sephiroth, who had the social graces of a poisonous wallflower. "Public events of the social kind."

"Ah," Sephiroth says, fiddling with his cuff. "That's fine then."

"... That's fine? You hate those things!"

"Do I?" Sephiroth asks, giving him a bitchy face like he knows something Genesis doesn't. "Hm."

Genesis eyes him dubiously. "Well, I suppose you'll learn why very soon," he mutters. "If they make you go."

The tailor's assistant brings in the great coat, and Genesis throws it over Sephiroth's broad shoulders before the man can try putting his arms into the sleeves. Hanging over him like a cape, it ties the outfit together perfectly.

"There, you look fit to take over the world," Genesis says, motioning to the mirror.

Sephiroth hums, stepping so that he faces the mirror at an angle. "I guess it's a popular colour scheme for a reason," he murmurs, begrudgingly impressed, and flicks the hem to make the red lining flash dramatically. "Fitting, I suppose."

"Silver Elite are going to lose their little minds," Genesis agrees. "You'll take it, then?"

Sephiroth takes a moment, adjusting his collar. "I'll take it," he says finally. Then he smiles and slightly bows at the tailor's assistant. "Thank you for your efforts."

"I-it wasn't any trouble, sir!" the poor assistant gulps, looking a little wobbly at the knees. "The master is finished with your leather coat, sir. If you're ready…"

"I am," Sephiroth agrees, running a satisfied hand down his front. "I am very ready."

The planet isn't, Genesis thinks with a sense of exhilarated doom. The planet isn't ready for this at all.

-

Shizun can no longer rock Qing Jing Peak colours ☹️ The Tragedy is immeasurable.

(aka I meant to put him in Qing Jing Peak colours but then I looked up Sephiroth in a suit and 👌 black and red is really the Aesthetic here.)

(This is all Very Important To The Plot. Which Totally Exists.)

[theblack3stday]

YOUR RAREST OF FLOWERS — Marlene Mckinnon

Pairing: Marlene Mckinnon x shy!reader

Summary: You are a naturally shy girl and you usually only hang out with Remus. But, one day, you find yourself hanging out with the Marauders and being teased by Marlene.

A/N💌: Thanks for the request, I hope you like it🫶🏻🫶🏻

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: probably none

The weather was a perfect fit for the beauty of spring. The budding of the flowers, the greening of the leaves on the trees, the gentle wind blowing, and the shining sun made it all worthwhile.

As the wind passing through the open windows of the greenhouse spilled out, it also brought the scent of the flowers in the greenhouse and filled the noses of the students.

"The classes are over," said James excitedly as he sunbathed on the grass.

He turned his face to the sun and closed his eyes. In order to enjoy the heat better, he unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt, took off his tie and put it in his pocket.

"We are free and we can do whatever we want!" Sirius concluded James' words. He was sitting cross-legged next to James.

He grinned and extended his hand to his best friend, who completed his sentence as he wished. James and Sirius high-fived each other. Remus and Peter chuckled at them.

As Lily and Marlene come, boys’ attention turned to their friends.

“My flower!” he jumped from his place to give a kiss to his girlfriend. Marlene set her place next to Peter.

“Oh, fuck!” Remus cursed with realisation. “I have to meet Y/n at the library!”

Remus quickly hurried to meet up with you.

Meanwhile, James continued to fawn over Lily, who smiled with satisfaction. Marlene frowned and shouted after Remus. “Who the hell is Y/N?”

“His book buddy.” Peter answered.

Remus rushed through the hallways, desperate to make his way to the library. Once there, he found you already occupying a seat, buried in a book.

You have been Remus Lupin’s book buddy for quite some time now. Despite his quiet and sometimes brooding nature, you always enjoyed your time together spent discussing your latest books and their characters. Before you knew him, you had thought that he’s a noisy annoying idiot like his friends, but he was the opposite. He was calm, nice and understanding. You were a shy person, but when you were with him, you feel like you are with your brother.

Remus had quickly picked up on the fact that you were a shy person, even if you didn’t realize it yourselves. But he didn’t mind at all, because he knew that he was the same way. He found comfort in your quiet nature, and he enjoyed having someone who he could truly share his thoughts and feelings with. It was one of the main reasons why he enjoyed spending time with you so much.

As spotted you reading, he paused to take a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. Once he was sure he would not let his anxiety get the best of him, he approached you with a small smile. "Hey, Y/n. Sorry, I'm a bit late." he greeted you, his tone gentle and warm.

You smiled back at Remus, your face instantly warmed by his gentle demeanor.

"It's okay, I haven't been waiting for too long. Don't worry about it." you assured him, keeping your tone equally as gentle as his.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, both enjoying the feel of the other's company.

“So, what's the book you were reading?” Remus eventually asked, breaking the silence with a lighthearted, inquisitive tone.

You told Remus the title of the book you were reading, explaining that you had just started it but that it had instantly piqued your interest. Remus nodded along as he listened, his own curiosity piqued by your description.

“I can give you the book, when i finish it.” you said. Remus nodded as you offered him that “Thanks.”

“Do you want to read outside? The weather seems nice.” you asked him, closing your book.

As you and Remus walk outside, you see the Marauders lying on the grass, enjoying the sunlight and chatting amongst themselves. You recognize them as James, Sirius, Lily, Marlene and Peter, and they seem to be having a good time. They notice Remus and smile at him, but don't seem to notice you just yet. You feel a bit uncomfortable as your presence seems unnoticed by the Marauders, who continue to chat and laugh amongst themselves. Remus notices your discomfort and asks you, “Is everything alright?”

You shake your head and tell Remus, “Maybe we can read tomorrow, you know..”

Remus understands where you are coming from, and he comforts you, “We are not intruding. They are just chatting amongst themselves, and they are actually friendly people if you get to know them. Trust me, they are not that what you think.” he whispered, so only you could hear him.

“Hey, who’s this, Moony?” James noticed you first. Or you thought like that. Marlene was the one who noticed you. She noticed you before the others, and she quickly looks away, a slight smile on her face. Your shyness was so cute she thought. As you look around to see that the Marauders have noticed you, you see Marlene's gaze turn away with a slight smile on her face. You feel a bit embarrassed and shy being noticed, but you can't help but feel like Marlene's faint smile was directed at you.

“This is Y/N.” Remus said placing his hand to your shoulder. Marlene's faint smile seems to grow larger for a moment when she hears Remus mention your name. You can sense Marlene's gaze lingering on you after you've been introduced to the Marauders. She seems curious about you, and there's the faintest hint of a smile on her face.

As Remus introduced you to them, your shyness seemed to catch their attention. Particularly, Marlene appeared to gaze at you intently as you nervously looked away from her, feeling a little embarrassed by the attention. Her grin seemed to grow larger when she understands that you realised that she was interested in you. That made you blush even harder.

"I guess this is our book buddy, eh James?" Marlene added with a teasing wink, throwing you a flirtatious glance.

James laughed and agreed, "The one and only! We can't wait for you to hang out with us more often, " He joked, a playful glint of mischief in his eye.

As Marlene made the teasing comment, you felt your ears heat up with an instant blush. You could feel the Marauders' gaze on you, each of them finding your blush immensely adorable in its own way.

"Oh, I'm sure she will," Remus replied with a grin as he looked over to you, his tone playful but also reassuring.

"Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves now."

James let out a boisterous laugh as he slapped Remus' shoulder jokingly.

Remus returned a wink, as he smiled at you reassuringly. Marlene playfully rolled her eyes and shot Remus a small smirk before turning her gaze back towards you, her playful flirtatious glances now laced with curiosity.

You could sense a playful tension in the air between the four of them. You didn’t know what to say. You just stand there watching them making jokes, having fun and enjoying the day. You laughed with them, but never joined the conversations. You stood quietly in the background. Remus seemed to sense your nervousness and reluctance to join in on the conversations. He kept a close eye on you as well, and his playful tone became a little more gentle in his efforts to include you.

Meanwhile, Marlene couldn't help but watch you with growing curiosity. Her playful glances kept getting longer, she was becoming more and more intrigued by your soft shyness.

You could feel her gaze, and you found it difficult to not look at her in disbelief as she continued to flirt with you in such a subtle yet noticeable way.

As Marlene watched you, you were unaware that she had been looking at you for longer than you'd expect. She suddenly picked up a flower from near her feet, quietly and subtly.

She then reached up and handed it to you, not saying anything but hoping you'd understand the gesture.

As Marlene gracefully handed you the flower, she smiled with a slight blush filling her cheeks. The gesture was innocent yet clearly filled with romantic meaning, sending your heart fluttering in delight. You felt your ears heat up and your heart beat a bit faster as you softly smiled back at Marlene.

As you accepted the flower from Marlene, a warm feeling spread through you, and you couldn't help but return her smile. The simple gesture spoke volumes, and you felt a connection with her that went beyond words.

"Thanks," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper, but carrying a depth of gratitude.

Marlene's smile widened at your response, and she nodded gently, her eyes sparkling with understanding.

The exchange between you and Marlene didn't go unnoticed by the others. James nudged Sirius playfully, a knowing smirk on his face, while Lily observed the interaction with a fond expression. Even Peter couldn't help but glance over, his curiosity piqued by the subtle yet significant moment unfolding before them.

Remus, ever observant, caught the exchange between you and Marlene, and a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He felt a sense of warmth and happiness seeing you connect with one of his closest friends.

"So, Y/N, what's your favorite book?" James asked you. As the group turned their attention towards you, you felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness fluttering in your chest. You swallowed softly, meeting their curious gazes with a tentative smile, ready to answer any question they had for you.

“You read?” Sirius frowned. James rolled his eyes to his best mate. You chuckled to their silly little ‘argument’. "Um, well, I really love that muggle book called ‘Little Women’"

“She read it 7 times!” Remus added.

James and Sirius were surprised to hear that information. “Did I hear that right?" James turned to his best friend.

“I think so.” Sirius said. Lily playfully rolled her eyes.

“This is a classic, I really love that book too! Do you have any other hobbies besides reading?" she smiled at you gently. You knew she was a nice and calm person. Once you were a group in the potions project.

“Hmm, I like to draw and paint in my free time. It's a nice way to unwind." you said.

“Maybe you could show us some of your works sometime?” Marlene grinned. The playful banter between you two continued, as Marlene seemed intrigued by your interests.

“Sure.” you played with your hair trying to avoid the eye contact between you and her.

“Maybe sometime, we could paint together?” she suggested.

“Sure, yeah.” you replied softly, continuing to avoid the eye contact.

After that day, you began to spend more time with the Marauders. The playful banter and flirtatious tones became a frequent occurrence for you, but you didn't mind it. Remus was still your best friend, but you get along with Lily too. She was so nice and obviously she was a crazy reader like you. The boys, Sirius, James and Peter, sometimes were very noisy, but you got used to it. They were fun, and it felt as if you could truly be yourself with them. Marlene continued to play with you. She loved making you blush, especially when your cheeks turned red. When you avoided eye contact, she knew she was doing it right.

It was an another sunny day. The year was almost over. The Hogwarts hallways were bathed in the warm glow of the midday sun, casting long shadows along the stone walls. Sunlight streamed through the high windows, painting intricate patterns on the polished floors. As students bustled between classes, the air was filled with a sense of energy and excitement.

“Y/N!” Marlene spotted you in the hallway outside of class. She playfully sprinted to keep up with your pace, she run towards you She tried to synchronise to your steps. She eventually caught up, giggling innocently at the sight of her chasing you around. “Do you remember that you promised me to paint together?” she playfully asked, matching your steps and rhythm.

You rolled your eyes “That was before I learned you can’t paint.”

"Then you can teach me, huh?" she said while placing her arm on your shoulder, continuing her playful flirtatious tone.

"Maybe..." you replied, with a confused glance to Marlene, who had a playful look on her face.

The two of you continued to have a playful exchange, with Marlene still matching your pace quite expertly.

"Come on, surely I can't be that bad!" Marlene said, continuing to playfully chase you.

"I wouldn't be so sure." you replied with a smirk, before continuing to walk casually as if the chase was no big deal.

Marlene playfully let out a playful huff of frustration as she continued to try and catch up to you.

"Well, if you want to see it so badly, I guess we're just gonna have to have that painting session soon!" she playfully pouted, clearly enjoying her own pouty behavior.

"If we do, I'll be sure to judge you mercilessly." you teased back with a laugh, as Marlene replied with an apologetic grimace.

As the two of you eventually made your way to the lake where the Marauders usually hung out, Marlene playfully commented on her lack of artistic talent.

"I may not be talented in painting, but I have other skills," she said playfully, as the two of you continued to walk along the quiet path.

“Like teasing shy girls?” you felt your heart beating quickly when you asked her that. You didn’t mean it, it just came out from your mouth and there were you, standing in front of her like a tomato.

"Like teasing shy girls." Marlene replied with a playful grin, causing your ears to warm with a blush of embarrassment.

Your shyness was something Marlene had grown quite fond of, and as such, she regularly enjoyed teasing you whenever the two of you interacted. The playful tone and flirtatious banter only made her teasing more enjoyable, causing you to blush more heavily and smile softly, albeit still feeling a little bit of embarrassment.

You were still blushing profusely when Marlene suddenly leaned forward and kissed you, completely taking you off guard.

You were stunned for a moment, but the feeling of her lips against your own was electrifying and made your blush grow even brighter.

Your shock at her sudden actions soon turned into pure ecstasy, and your cheeks felt warm and fuzzy as you enjoyed the unexpected kiss.

Marlene pulled her face away from yours after the kiss, her expression one of pleasure.

"I hope the shy girl likes me teasing her?" she asked with a giggle, her flirty voice filled with playfulness.

You were still a bit taken aback from the unexpected kiss, but you managed to reply with a soft smile and a nod.

"Good," Marlene said playfully, her playful tone and flirty energy still flowing through her voice.

Marlene giggled softly as she leaned closer and kisses you again, this time leaving no doubt that she had every intention of doing so. The playful flirtatious tension between the two of you only grew stronger with the repeated act of kissing, making both sides eager for more.

As Marlene and you engaged in another series of kisses, the tension and flirttous energy between the two of you escalated intensely, as if to compensate for the shyness and awkwardness you had experienced previously.

Your kisses grew more passionate and intense, and before you knew it, the two of you were deeply involved in a heated and fiery makeout session, oblivious to the world around you. Your hearts were pounding in your throats, and your breaths were coming quickly as you both enjoyed the intimacy of the moment.

@hrts4prongs ‘s request

[official-n3va3h]

Not so sweet

« Seungmin x fem reader »

Synopsis: he always being so sweet and loving, who would’ve thought he could do the things he’d did.

Genre: fluff, smut

Warnings: use of pet names, f!ngering, cursing, begging, mirror smut yk, seungmins a lil freak.

A/N: THIS IS LIKE SO UGHHRH IDK IF ITS GOOD IM NOT THAT GOOD AT SMUT AND ITS SO MUCH DIFF FROM ME READING IT BUT I HOPE ITS GOOD😭😭😭

•———————————————————————————•

*

Seungmin was always so kind and sweet, as your boyfriend he knew how to take care of you and your needs. He made you feel amazing even when away from you. You just couldn’t help but fawn over his sweet antics.

•———————————————————————————•

Today 8:28am

Seungminni🩷: Goodmorning, wanna stop by later and watch our practice :)

•———————————————————————————•

You read the text from you boyfriend after you woke up, it was around 9:30 when you got up. You continued to lay in your bed looking out past the sunlight. You stretched and sat up your eyes still adjusting to the bright sky. You seen your bedroom door ajar, figuring so, seungmin left it open because he knows how cool it gets at night and how you hate waking up cold. What a sweet heart.

You stood up and walked towards your bathroom and began your morning routine. You washed your face, brushed your teeth and headed towards the kitchen for breakfast. As you entered you noticed a lime green sticky note sticking to your fridge.

“Made you breakfast, it’s in the fridge, enjoy it :)”

your heart gushed at the note. Here he was again making you feel like royalty even when he isn’t here. You opened the fridge and took out a plate covered with another plate, you lifted the plate and you were met with a delicious smell, you look at the plate of your favorite thick and fluffy waffles. You heated them up and devoured them pretty fast. Making your way back to the bedroom you took of your pajamas which consisted of being just Seungmins shirt. You put on your white skirt and oversized knitted sweater to match, you put your shoes grabbed your purse and phone and headed out the door then towards your car. You got inside, you started your engine and before pulling off you decided to send your loving boyfriend a text.

•———————————————————————————•

Today 10:23

Y/N: ofcc, I’m otw rn😋

Seungminni🩷: okay, btw while your out, you should pick up some lunch for meeee

Y/N: oh, was that why you asked just for me to get you food later😔😔

Seungminni🩷: maybeee👀, but I also would enjoy your company

Y/N: mmhmm, Alr I’ll let yk when I’m outside. I love you💕

Seungminni🩷: I love you too

•———————————————————————————•

You pulled off and stopped at the convenience store to pick up his favorite ramen. You eventually pulled up outside the building, you made your way inside and went up towards the dance practice rooms. You knocked on the door and poked your head in. You seen seungmin and the other members all sweaty, laying around and some still dancing in front of the mirror. They’re attention all shifted towards you.

“Hey, got your lunch” extending the bag forward.

Seungmin walked up to you grabbing the bag, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Thank you.”

The rest of the guys greeted you and you watched them dance and giggled with them throughout the day. A couple hours later they were all taking another break and Seungmin came over as you were on your phone and slouched his head on your lap. He was sweaty and panting.

“Seungmin your all sweatyyy..” you whined, but made no effort to move him.

He smiled and placed his hand on your thigh playing with the ends of your skirt. You placed your hands in his hair slowly playing with some parts twisting them around your finger. He mumbled something under his breath but it was to quiet for you to hear. You continued to play with his hair. His hand traveled from the ends of your skirt towards your upper thigh, still playing in his hair you continued to watch some of the guys practice until Chan spoke up.

“Alright let’s try again all together”

Seungmin slowly rose up from your lap and placed a kiss on your cheek but before leaving he went close to your ear.

“Your skirts pretty baby” he said softly

You were just about to thank him but he spoke again.

“so pretty it makes it hard for me to not bend you over in front of this mirror and ruin you”

Your mouth fell open and you slapped your hand across your face to cover your smile that grew across your face. He then placed another kiss on your forehead and hopped up as if nothing happened, his hair flopping around his “innocent” face. You crossed your legs feeling hot and bothered, you felt a kaleidoscope of butterflies inside your stomach, and your core was heating up.

*

After awhile of getting caught up in your own thoughts, Seungmin approached you. You didn’t even notice the members had all left and it was just you too in the room.

“Hey, we’re done”

You reverted back to reality, looking up at him, his dark brown hair sticking to his forehead, his cheeks flushed from the continuous dancing, and eyes gazing down on you.

“Oh..yeah” you responded standing up

You went to grab your jacket and bag that were leaned up against the huge mirror wall. as you stood up you seen seungmin was already behind you.

“Mm, you know I meant what I said earlier”

He took another step closer to you and wrapped his hands around your waist. He slowly slid his hands down your thighs than back up trailing under your skirt.

“Min..” your breathy voice spoke out.

“come on, let me make you feel good baby, right here” he lifted your head with one of his hands, smiling. You were already conflicted to his touch so there was no point in denying him. You slowly placed your bag on the floor, giving him the answer that your staying.

“mm, baby your so beautiful, had me struggling not to ravage you all day.” Unbuttoning your big knitted sweater, his touch was warm, yet refreshing to your body.

Looking at you in the mirror all the air in his lungs left.

“Fuck…babyy for me?” His hands roamed your bare stomach and traveled up the white lace covering your chest. Your eyes fluttered, he was so slow with every lingering touch and it was killing you, he’s gotten you riled up and now he’s taking his sweet time.

“Min…just touch me already” you whined.

“Mm, baby is that what you want me to do, want me to ruin you” so into the moment and in your own head, you didn’t realize his hands completely under your skirt tugging down your underwear. You bit your lip in anticipation, waiting for him to do something, anything. He finally slid his hands up your pantie-less skirt, massaging slow circles into you. The friction was amazing but painfully slowly it almost hurt.

“Min…faster pleasee” you begged.

You could feel his hard up against you as you called out to him.

“Minn…pleaseee”

“Mhm, you want me to go faster baby? Is that what you want?”

You nodded your head almost immediately, watching him touch you the way he was through the mirror was almost mesmerizing.

“kinda slutty hm? But since u asked so nicely”

One finger at a time, thrusting into you. He picked up the speed with his fingers, and you loved every second of it.

“F..fuck min, feels good” your voice Called out breathy and tired.

“ damn baby your sopping down here, wanna see”

He grabbed your face making you look up in the mirror

“See baby, your really feelin it hm?”

You moaned out, feeling so exposed yet still feeling good, as your orgasm was creeping up on you.

“Shit, I’m gonna-“

“Cum, come on baby cum, right here on my fingers cmon”

A little bit longer and you were at your peak, your orgasm rushing out.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuckkkk” you moaned out, as your cunt leaked your cum all over seungmins fingers.

“What a show baby, you really enjoyed yourself hm?”

You nodded, drool on the side of your cheek and cheeks flushed bright red, your legs trembling still.

“Hm, let’s put these back on, and when we get home I’ll really make you feel me yeah?”

He slipped your underwear back on you, and grabbed your hand leading you out the practice room all while giving you a sweet smile. That same innocent, sweet smile that has almost everyone’s fooled.

[crusty-chronicles]

Hi,

Can I request kurama x human reader who share his love for plants and nature which makes him fall for them?

Thanks for considering this requst

An: My man's would be gushing 💯.

Kurama With An S/O Who Loves Plants

It's inevitable he becomes smitten

Someone else who shares his love of plants? You're his.

You start out as one of his classmates.

Just another face in the crowd.

It isn't until you have a project together that he gets to know you.

You'd chosen to do it at your house. It was more convenient that way. There'd be no interruptions and you'd get to finish faster.

There was just one catch though.

“My house is kinda humid. I like to keep the temperature high. If it's too much we could always work in the library,” you explained.

The heat was something he could handle. It wouldn't bother him in the slightest. And when he stepped foot inside, it was pleasantly bearable.

What he was not expecting were the ferns littered around your living room. Along with several other types of potted plants.

They all looked to be well taken care of, too. Seems you had quite the hobby.

He followed you to your room. Fingers skimming over the leaves of a pothos as he passed it. If you saw the action, you didn't mention it.

In your room were a few more plants placed towards the window sill. One in particular caught his attention. Through the foliage he could see glimpses of red.

“An anthurium,” he mumbled out.

“Huh?” You called from your spot on the floor.

He met your confused gaze and offered you a smile.

“You're a bit of a plant enthusiast, aren't you?”

You seemed to light up at his words. Excited to talk about your favorite hobby.

“Are you kidding me? These are my babies. I'm a single mother of about 24.”

Maybe it was a little endearing to see you talk so passionately.

“In all seriousness, I think I'm gonna become a botanist when I graduate. What about you?” You asked.

What would Kurama do? He'd probably be offered a job at his stepfather's company. If something else hadn't killed him first. But he felt like that wouldn't have been a favorable answer.

“I haven't decided yet.” Was his response.

He expected you to pry further. Instead you playfully nudged his shoulder.

“You could always join me.”

Surprisingly, he was left speechless by your offer. You'd wanted him to study plants with you?

“Don't think I didn't notice how you addressed Derek by his full government name.” You gestured to the anthurium behind you.

“You really know your stuff.”

Oh you had no idea.

“You name your plants?” He questioned. You were an intriguing individual.

“Hello? I told you they were my babies. And don't you try to change the subject.” You scolded.

“I'll consider it. How about we start on our project now?”

He figured that would've been the last time he interacted with you. That couldn't have been any further than the truth.

You showed up to his desk the next morning with a small potted plant.

He looked up at you quizzically before you spoke.

“What's this?”

You were trying to test him. A part of him found it cute. You had absolutely no clue how vast his knowledge was. Of both this world and the demon one.

He took you up on your challenge without hesitation.

“Bear’s Paw succulent. Also known as the Cotyledon tomentosa.”

“Aha!” You cheered triumphantly. As if you caught him red handed on something. Whatever connection you think you just made, he'd never know.

It became a daily habit of sorts.

Every morning you'd stop by his desk with something new.

The same question of ‘what’s this?’

And he'd always answer correctly.

You were persistent in whatever endeavor you were chasing. He thought you would've gotten bored by now, yet you kept at it.

Little by little, he starts to consider you a friend. He started anticipating your presence in the morning. Enjoying how you stuck around after quizzing him now. Getting to know each other more and more.

You didn't fawn over him like the girls in your class. And you weren't jealous of him like the boys. You were just you. And somehow you wormed your way into his life for the better.

You trusted him wholeheartedly with your plants. Even going as far as to ask him to take care of one for you.

“I have to go on a family trip. Watch Cornelius for me.” You'd looked up at him with pleading eyes. Ones he found himself unable to say no to. So he (not so) begrudgingly said yes.

A cactus. You gave him a cactus to look after.

He makes it bloom for you by the time you get back.

“Some green thumb you have.” You mused once you got it back. A small feeling of pride washing over him.

Eventually Kurama starts returning the favor and bringing you plants instead.

The first time he did it, he had left a special type of rose on your desk.

“What's this?” His words mirroring yours.

You gave a smirk at the challenge.

“Easy. It's a Falstaff rose.” you answered.

“Now what's this~” you pulled what looked like a white and pink flower from behind you.

“A trick. That's an orchid mantis.”

“Damn. I almost had you.”

Every now and then he'll throw you off by growing a plant from the demon world.

“Is that a hybrid of some sort?” You asked, prodding at the rather sentient looking plant.

Did it just blink at you?

“It's cool whatever it is. How'd you get your hands on it?”

By now your guessing games had started to take place out of school and in your homes. Right now, you were at Shuichi’s because he said he ‘wanted to show you something.’

He appeared amused by your curiosity.

“I have my ways.” He responded.

“This plant is carnivorous. It produces a saliva stronger than acid.” Though he'd never let it hurt you.

And instead of being frightened by it, you were ecstatic.

“Let's feed it a bunch of things!” You suggested.

Did you hear that? That was the sound of his heart beating in overdrive. You were a very brave human.

But you also found beauty and wonder in things most would cower at.

He makes sure to bring and grow you more plants from demon world. Most of them are relatively harmless.

As long as you don't get too close that is.

It becomes a new game for you to guess what they do. What makes the flowers bloom. The conditions they thrive in.

Most of the time you end up being correct. Using your prior knowledge to make logical guesses. It's surprising how accurate you are for a human. But then again, you weren't exactly normal.

He's still not over how you fed that plant your entire backpack.

He would be lying if he said he hadn't taken an interest in you.

Not just because of your shared hobby. He liked how you made it a point to check on him everyday. How you'd let him ramble on excitedly about some new fauna. The way you explored and investigated something new without fear. The exaggerated movements of your hands when you were talking passionately.

All of it had pulled him in little by little.

He makes it a point to confess to you in a way only you two would understand.

“What do all these mean?” He asked you, presenting you with a small bouquet.

“Oooh! Going the extra mile today? You're on.”

You took the flowers from him and began mentally listing them off.

You hadn't taken in the full context until you were already speaking.

“Red carnations mean my heart aches for you. Forget me nots mean true love. Baby's breath means everlasting love. And a rose means passion…Oh.”

It hit you like a truck then, the implications of why he might've gave you this. Was this still part of your usual game?

You looked to Shuichi who didn't hide the softness in his expression.

“You're being serious? I…”

‘Say yes you idiot!!!!’ You internally screamed at yourself.

Instead you plucked one of the flowers and offered it back to him.

“Here's my answer.”

You'd given him the rose in return.

------------------

An: yeet! Google came in clutch for this one.

[atlabeth]

unacceptable - anthony lockwood

summary: you and lockwood don't shy away from your relationship, even in your line of work. apparently, it hasn't gone unnoticed by your colleagues.

a/n: i guess i have a thing for british guys named anthony because uhhhh okay anyways enjoy this short little thing i wrote in one sitting to get used to mr lockwood

wc: 1k. feels weird writing something so short after my past exploits lol

warning(s): nothing all fluff

“Oh, thank you,” you said with a sigh of relief as Anthony brought two cups of tea over. You picked yours up and sipped it, your shoulders relaxing a bit as the liquid warmed you from the inside out. “We seriously need to fix the heating in this place. I feel like I’m constantly freezing to death.” 

Lockwood chuckled and wrapped an arm around you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Is that better?” 

“It always helps,” you said with a smile. “More than your tea, I think.” 

“You’ll be happy to know I’ve already put in a call.” He rubbed your shoulder as he talked, his proximity alone helping with your chills. “It should be fixed by the time we’re done with this job at the end of the week.”

“Thank god,” you muttered as you took another sip of tea, and you leaned your head against Lockwood’s shoulder. “You’re the best.” 

He hummed. “I try.” 

“Alright,” a voice suddenly said, and your gaze moved to see George. “That’s enough.” 

Anthony raised his eyebrows. “What?” 

George said your and Lockwood’s names, his arms crossed as he stared at the two of you, “we need to talk.” 

Your brows creased for a moment as you pulled away from Lockwood, though still keeping your hands intertwined as you leaned against the counter. “What about?” 

“Your relationship is ruining this agency,” George said simply. “It’s unacceptable.” 

Lockwood went as far as to laugh, his amusement barely concealed. “How do you think?” 

“There is obvious favoritism going on here!” he exclaimed. 

“Favoritism?” you repeated, this time laughing yourself. “That’s ridiculous.” 

“No,” George said, shaking his head, “the only ridiculous thing is how unbalanced everything’s become since you two finally got together.” 

“I hope you have examples,” Anthony said. 

“Oh,” he laughed, “oh, I have examples. Starting with right now.” He gestured with his hands in the open air. “I’ve been complaining about the broken heating for almost two weeks to no avail. Your girlfriend suggests it, and suddenly it’s on its way to being fixed.” 

Lockwood shrugged. “It’s just good timing. No biases.” 

Lucy just happened to walk in at that point, her water bottle in her hand, and George’s eyes lit up. 

“Lucy!” he exclaimed, turning his attention to her; she looked back with a faint smile as she stopped. “You’re on my side, right?” 

“Your side for what?” she asked. 

“That we’re ruining the agency with our love,” you said dryly. Anthony laughed and pulled you closer, to which George gestured blatantly with his hand. 

“Right in front of us.” He shook his head dramatically. “It’s like you don’t even care about a professional environment.” 

Lucy laughed, her eyes alight with amusement as she looked over at you two. “You do take an awful lot of time getting ready in the morning because you’re too busy fawning over each other.” 

You felt the heat rush to your cheeks. “We do not.” 

“I actually timed you this morning after you were particularly lovey-dovey yesterday,” George said. “You made us ten minutes late—I’m surprised we didn’t get a ticket trying to get over there in time.” 

“Which we did, by the way,” you said. “We actually got there early. Our client praised us for our work.”

“Like you haven’t caused us to be late plenty of times,” Lockwood added. “We’re just enjoying each other’s company.” He gave George a look. “Which you encouraged us to do before we got together, if you remember.” 

He frowned. “I did not.” 

“You did,” Lucy piped in. “You told them that being around friends while you have them is especially important in this line of work.” 

“Exactly!” George exclaimed. “They’re not exactly friends anymore, are they?” 

“I’d say we’re friends,” you frowned. “Just because he’s my boyfriend doesn’t mean I don’t like him anymore.” 

“And I certainly like her beyond a girlfriend,” Lockwood contributed. 

“Alright, we are getting off-topic,” George huffed. “My second point of your obvious favoritism—” he leveled a look at Lockwood— “you always let her sit in the front seat.” 

He shrugged. “Seniority. She’s been here the longest.” 

“Oh, that is cheap,” George complained. “Just because she founded it with you means we all have to rough it in the backseat?” 

“Yes,” Lockwood said with a smile. 

“Lucy,” he said, “we need to go on more jobs with just the two of us.” 

She chuckled. “I like the sound of that. Sitting in the back with all our equipment isn’t the most fun.” 

“We all have to make sacrifices,” you said defensively.

Lucy shrugged as she looked at Anthony. “And you do always throw yourself into danger for her, Lockwood.” 

He frowned. “I throw myself into danger for all of you. It’s in the job description.” 

“Yeah, but you always do it for your girlfriend,” George said, exaggerating your title. “You’ll push Lucy out of the way or draw your rapier for me, but you go full on action-movie hero for her. It’s honestly embarrassing, Lockwood.” 

Lockwood looked down at you with visible mirth in his eyes. “Do you think I should let you die to prove I don’t hold favorites?” 

You shrugged. “It’s only fair.” 

“You even broke our biggest rule!” George snatched the container of biscuits from the kitchen counter and held it up. “You let her have two all the time.” 

Lucy raised her finger, pointing it at the two of you with a nod. “That’s true. It’s the most unfair thing you’ve done since you two started dating.” 

“So what can we do to cure this grave injustice?” you asked with mock austerity. 

“I’m not going to stop kissing my girlfriend just because you think I’m showing favoritism,” Lockwood added dryly, “so don’t push.” 

“The biscuits,” George said immediately. “She can only have one biscuit like the rest of us.” 

You chuckled. “That’s what you’re most worried about?” 

“Yes,” he said, and he glanced at Lucy. 

She nodded. “Absolutely. Back to the single biscuit rule, no matter relationship status.” 

Lockwood looked at you with a sly smile. “What do you think, love? Willing to give it up?” 

“I think I can manage,” you said, and you gave him a chaste kiss on the lips, feeling Anthony smile into it. 

“And already, I feel order being restored to Lockwood and Co,” George said with a sigh. 

“I’m glad that’s all it took,” you laughed as you looked back at him, “because I’m keeping the front seat.” 

-

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77 @simonsbluee @kwyloz @masteroperator @louderfortheback

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Stranger 6

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Destroyer!Chris

Summary: A stranger buys the farmstead nearby and disturbs your sleepy village life.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your grandmother waits for you on the porch. She has a book in hand as she sits on the wooden swing, nose scrunched beneath the wire of her glasses. She looks up as you near the bottom of the steps, the wagon rolling and rattling loudly behind Chris.

“Gramma,” you’re nearly breathless as you step up on the lowest step, “I got the groceries.”

She looks up over the frames of her glasses and closes her book. She clears her throat as she sets it beside her on the flat cushion and fixes the kinks around her ears. She stands with her slight hunch and tugs at the front of her handspun blouse.

“And who’s this?” She preens, “I wasn’t expecting company, sir.”

“Um,” you hesitate, waiting for him to answer. He doesn’t, “this is Chris?”

“Chris, ma’am,” he echoes at last, “I’m new around here. Just bought some property down the way. Wanted to come by and say thanks for that pie. Lucky me, we ran into each other in town.”

“Oh, gosh, that is so sweet,” she fawns as she comes to the top of the stairs, “I’m Sadie, I hope you enjoyed the pie. I didn’t have much left in the pantry, I know rhubarb’s not for everyone.”

“It was delicious,” he pushes the handle up and lets it stand on its own, “please, don’t trouble yourself.” He steps past you up the stairs, “very nice to meet you at last. I’ve heard a lot from your granddaughter.”

He offers his hand and she takes it gently. They shake as she smiles. “You have?”

“Please, sit,” he insists and gestures her back to the swing. 

“Oh, thank you,” she swoons, “I just had my hip done, you see? Only just back on my feet.”

“Then it’s a good thing I came by, isn’t it? Looks like you two could use a spare pair of hands.”

“Um, I’ll get the groceries inside–”

“So, you two… talk?”

“Yeah, she was nice enough to deliver that pie and I guess we just hit it off. She didn’t say?” Chris sits beside her. You watch, dumbfounded. What is he talking about?

“No, she didn’t say she was sneaking off with some handsome man,” your grandmother trills.

“You are too nice, Sadie,” he grins, “I didn’t even get a chance to ask her out… you know, I know things are real old-fashioned around here so I thought I better check with you first.”

“Me? Oh, of course, of course!” She nearly claps her hands as she clasps them together, “my granddaughter… it’s about time she went out and had some fun. The dear helps me out so much–”

You grab a bag from the wagon and keep your chin down. Really? She doesn't call it help when you're alone. She tells you you're nagging or useless or irritating.

Chris clears his throat, “so I have your blessing?”

“Oh, certainly you do,” she squeals, “oh, honey, that’s so adorable.”

You look up as you climb the steps. Your stomach is doing somersaults. You can tell she’s already hearing bells. He has her in the palm of his hand and why not? She's only ever wanted you to finish the job your mother left undone. She wants someone she can boast about to the ladies at the quilting club.

“Woah, woah,” Chris stands as he glances over, “let me get that.” He stands and strides past your grandmother’s knees, “I’ll get everything sorted and you ladies can take it easy.”

“Now, that is just too much, sir.”

“It’s not enough,” he insists as he takes the bag from you, “Sadie, please call me Chris.”

“Chris,” she repeats, “you are a sweetheart, aren’t you?”

“Well, you know, it’s why I left the city. People don’t got much manners anymore. Out here, you all are so nice,” he turns and nears the front door, “can I get you something, Sadie? Water, tea?”

“I’m just fine, honey,” she chimes, “my, my, been so long since we had a man around to help.”

He nods and lets himself in through the screen door. You chew your lip and furrow your brow as he disappears inside. Your grandmother hisses your name.

“Dear, come here,” she points you next to her, “you didn’t say he was so handsome.”

“Gramma,” you groan as you drag your feet towards her.

“Oh, don’t you spoil this,” she grabs your wrist and tugs you down, “we’re gonna fix up one of your old dresses, do your hair nice…” she starts to pick at you.

“Gramma,” you drone again, “please–”

“Don’t be embarrassed. You’re a pretty young lady and he’s…” she makes a face, “well, isn’t he a certain kind. Never saw no men in my days with a jawline like that.”

You try not to cringe, forcing a smile again, “alright.”

“Try to be a little excited, dear! It’s your first date,” she exclaims, quickly tamping down her voice as the door opens squeakily. 

She giggles and watches Chris as he goes to haul two more bags from the wagon. You watch him sheepishly and he looks over, sending you a grin that neatly hides away the sinister gleam in his eyes. You swallow and focus on your fidgeting hands as he once more passes through the front door.

“It’s not too late for you,” she pets your cheek and you flinch, “why don’t you go inside and ask him to stay for dinner.”

You stand and don’t say a word. As you go to the door, you hesitate. Your grandmother was never so happy about anything you did. No, but a complete stranger can walk up and have her singing his praises with just a ma’am and a smile.