#and um. yeah i should like shut up now. probably

[comfymoth]

sometimes the only way to deal with your job is to imagine your little blorbos doing it. and then just get way too invested in that

[shellshocklove]

lover, lover, lover | joel miller

pairing/AU: 70s!pornstar!joel miller x inexperienced!female reader

summary: after blurring the lines with your boss and pornstar joel in pismo beach, what happens when you come back home to LA?

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! reader is 23, joel is in his early 30s, accuracies and inaccuracies about the 70s and the porn industry, smoking of cigarettes (it's the 70s alright), misogyny (bc of the times™), swearing, use of pet names, oral (f+m receiving), use of sextoys, handjob, praise kink, soft!dom joel but also a hint of sub!joel, porn, degradation, no use of y/n

a/n: this is the part 2 to this fic. you should read the part 1 first or this will make no sense lmao. i know it's been months since i posted that one and i've gone back and forth a lot on if i was gonna write a second part, but here it is <3 again i wanna give a big thank you to my beloved @dustydaddyyy for encouraging me every step of the way, listening to me when i feel lost, and for reading through everything. i love you babes!!! <3

main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3

You jolted awake.

With a groan and a confusing squint, you sat up on your elbow. The back of your hand rubbed roughly at your eye as you looked around your darkened bedroom. The fan on your dresser huffed and swirled, blowing cool air in your direction with every pass – blowing away the memories of your dream.

You turned around to lay down again when you heard it. A distant sound of your phone ringing in your hallway. You let out another groan as you scooted out of bed, your nighty falling around your knees as your feet met the carpet floor. Shuffling down the hall you muttered a quiet “I’m coming, calm down,” to the phone.

You lifted the phone of the hook with a quiet, “Hello.”

“Did I wake ya, sweet girl?” the static voice answered.

“Joel, what time is it?” you sighed into the phone, your arm hitting the cool wall as you leaned against it.

“Um…” he started, probably checking his watch, “02.05.”

“Yes, you woke me up…” you told him, eyes tired and falling shut before blinking open in quiet panic, “Wait– did something happen? Why are you calling so late?” Fear squeezed around your heart, wrapping its cold hands around it as flashes of Joel getting arrested, or kidnapped… or something worse, played like a movie in your head.

“No,” he laughed, “No, sweetheart! I just couldn’t sleep.”

“So, you decided to wake me instead? You are aware we have a meeting with VCA tomorrow at 9am? I told you that didn’t I?” Two fingers pinched the bridge of your nose – trying to squeeze the sleep away.

You usually never forgot any of Joel’s meetings or commitments, and you prided yourself in staying on top of his schedule. You could swear you told him about the meeting the other day on the way back from Pismo Beach.

Pismo Beach.

You hadn’t seen him since you dropped him off. Two days had passed. Two days since… Since you’d had sex with Joel. Two days since he told you he wanted you to be his. Was Joel your boyfriend now? You couldn’t tell.

“Yeah, you did, you’re a good assistant,” he said, the smile evident in his voice.

The praise wrapped itself around your heart like a pink cloud of love – it made you smile.

“Thanks,” you whispered, your quiet voice making him chuckle down the other end.

You waited for his chuckle to die before you asked him, “Um… was there anything else?”

“You tired of me already, sweetheart?” he teased.

“No, never,” you shook your head, “it’s just late.”

“I know, I’m sorry baby,” the way he said it, he left the words hanging in the air.

A second passed in silence, and then another. You waited for him to say something else, but when the words never came you spoke, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Can I come over?” he almost cut you off, his words hanging at the end of your own like a teenager on a skateboard gripping tightly to the back of a bus.

“Tonight?” you asked, front teeth digging into your bottom lip.

“Yeah, now,” he clarified, “my car’s fixed– I can be there in probably… thirty minutes?”

“Ehm…” your head bumped against the wall. Thirty minutes? It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see Joel – you did – but it was so late, and you had to get up so early tomorrow.

“Maybe twenty if I speed,” he laughed.

“Joel,” you chided, a smiled tugged at your lips.

“Okay, thirty,” he relented.

You pushed off the wall, a finger curling around the phone cord. “If I say yes you have to be sneaky– and quiet. My landlord doesn’t allow boys to visit.”

“Good thing I ain’t a boy then, sweetheart.”

You snorted, teeth digging into your lip to kill a smile from blooming, “I’m serious, Joel! A girl got evicted last month because she got caught having her boyfriend over.”

“How’s that even legal?” his static voice wondered.

“I don’t know Joel, my landlord… she’s this old lady– super religious and she owns the whole complex– I think she inherited it from her late husband who was a developer or something. Anyway, every time I bump into her, she always questions me about if I have a boyfriend and then gives me this speech about how premarital sex is a sin, and how I’ll go to hell–”

“Shit, baby– move out,” Joel cut you off.

“I can’t,” you sighed, “It was the only place I could afford when I moved here.”

“Ain’t I payin’ you enough?” he teased, “I’ll talk to Ronald about a raise f’you want.”

You let out a chuckle, “I’m not sure it’s appropriate– or professional, to talk about this now, Joel.”

“Alright, baby– always so professional,” he playfully chided, “we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

You let out a hum, though a small knot tied itself in your stomach at the thought. You didn’t want Joel to get the wrong impression; that you wanted a raise now that you’d let him fuck you.

“See ya in 30?” he said, breaking the static silence, “I’ll be real sneaky.”

“Ok,” you said softly.

You told him your address, making him repeat your apartment number back to you before you hung up. You didn’t want him accidently knocking on the wrong door, and getting you evicted.

Padding back into your bedroom, you grabbed your silk robe hanging off the door. You twisted it around yourself while you turned on the lamp over your bedside table. The light bathed your room in a soft glow. You were starting to wake up a little now. Leaving your bedroom door ajar you walked back down your hallway with soft steps. Stepping into the kitchen, you grabbed a mug from your cupboard, busying yourself with making a cup of tea as you waited for Joel.

Thirty minutes later, you heard the buzz of your doorbell. Abandoning your cup on your kitchen table, you quickly hurried to your door, buzzing him in. Your heart hammered in your chest. The risk of getting caught so late on a Sunday night was low, but you could never be too careful. You waited for him in your doorway, your finger picking at your nail bed as you looked out for him to round the corner.

You breathed out a relieved sigh when you saw him, a smile widening across your face as he picked up his pace in a small jog. His grin was wide as well, all teeth and crinkles as he closed the space between you. With a small glance over his shoulder, he made sure he hadn’t been caught as you ushered him inside.

The light in your hallway was low, tinting everything in a warm yellow hue. His hands were on you in an instant, strong hands gliding over your waist from behind as you locked your door. In the next moment you felt his chest press against your back, locking you to his body in an engulfing hug. His nose dragged down the column of your neck, pressing sweet kisses into your skin.

“Hi,” he mumbled.

Leaning into his touch you hummed out a greeting. His grip tightened around you before he turned you around in his hands, your hands automatically wrapping themselves around his neck. God, he was handsome. Soft brown eyes shining under the soft light, you watched as they took you in, traveling down your bare face, down to your silk robe hiding your nighty. A sting of embarrassment panged in your chest under his gaze, maybe you should’ve changed into something else, something a little sexier. Then you realized what kind of sexy he was used to, sheer lingerie, stockings, garter belts and high heels, not whatever underwear you were hiding away in your drawers.

“Shit,” he whispered, eyes blown wide in the low light, “let me kiss you properly, sweetheart.”

His big palm cupped your cheek, bringing you closer before he brushed his lips over yours. He tasted like a mix of his last cigarette and beer. You didn’t realize how much you’d missed his touch, his lips against yours. Joel hummed into the kiss, nose bumping into yours as he held you close, thumb ghosting over your skin. The kiss was quick, but still tender, and when you broke apart, the embarrassment from earlier had faded.

“Missed your lips baby,” he whispered against them, emphasizing his words with another peck.

“You did?” your voice was breathless, eyes half lidded from his affection.

He didn’t answer, only catching your lips in another mind-blowing kiss. His hand not on your cheek traveled from your waist to the curve of your ass, where it squeezed. You jumped a little from his touch, breaking his kiss. Immediately Joel removed his hands, catching himself as he took a step back.

“No?” he asked, eyes searching yours.

A flood of warmth filled your chest, “No, it’s okay– it’s just… late.”

His eyes softened at your words, his palm finding your cheek again to softly rub his thumb over your skin, “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, “It’s okay…” you trailed off, your hand grabbing his other hand to intertwine your fingers, “Let’s go to bed?”

With his hand in yours Joel trailed after you down the hallway.

“The bathroom is just in here if you wanna use it?” you stopped at the end of your hallway, pointing to your closed bathroom door. Joel gave you a short nod and a smile, and let go of your hand, but not before giving it a little squeeze.

You stepped backwards to push open your bedroom door while he vanished to your bathroom. The alarm clock on your bedside table showed 3.08 in big red letters when your eyes flickered to it as you pulled at the strings of your silk robe. You twisted out of it and hung it back on the hook on your door, before you climbed back into your bed, waiting for Joel.

He walked into your room a few minutes later. You watched him from under the covers, eyes hooded with tiredness as he shed his clothes. Naked, safe for his briefs, he haphazardly folded his clothes, eyes flitting around your room for a place to put them.

“You can just leave them on the dresser,” you said, all cozy under the covers.

Sending you a small nod he sauntered over to your dresser with his clothes half-folded in his hand, where he placed them down gently. He stood there for a moment longer with his back turned, something catching his eye.

“So,” he spoke up, “what’s the review?”

“Huh?” You were confused.

You watched how his shoulders shook, grabbing something off your dresser before turning around, hiding it behind his back as he closed the space between you. You were still confused, a furrow pulling at your eyebrows.

“What d’ya prefer? This,” he started, revealing what he was hiding behind his back, “Or the real thing?”

In his hand he held the box with the dildo he’d modeled for. You’d forgotten all about it in your back seat while you were in Pismo Beach, only noticing it again as you’d parked outside your apartment. You had been meaning to give it back to Joel, didn’t take his ‘joke’ of you keeping it at face value, but then you’d forgotten all about it, leaving you with no choice other than to bring it inside.

“Joel,” you felt a flash of heat burn your cheeks.

“What? I wanna know,” he grinned, fingers fiddling with the cardboard to open it.

You gave him a chastising kick from under the covers, trying to shut the conversation down, but it only made him huff out a laugh.

“I don’t know, I haven’t tried it,” you said truthfully. The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind.

“What? Not even once,” his eyebrows knitted together, he almost looked disappointed.

You shook your head, “I was gonna give it back to you when I dropped you off on Friday, but it slipped my mind.”

“Why? I gave it to you,” he pulled the dildo out, the supposed perfect recreation of his package.

“Joel, you couldn’t have been serious about that?” you breathed out a laugh. It was hard to take him seriously with the toy in his hand.

“Well, now I’m a little disappointed, sweetheart,” he placed the box and the dildo on your bedside table, next to your alarm clock, “I really wanted to know your thoughts.”

He crept up the bed as you shifted over to make space, holding open the duvet for him to slip under.

“I’m sorry, Joel– I just didn’t think you were serious about that… and,” you trailed off when he wrapped his strong arms around your body, twisting around in his arms as he pulled you close against him.

“And, what?” he said, his breath huffing against the shell of your ear.

“I… uh, I haven’t… since,” you didn’t know how to say it.

But Joel knew, pulling you closer to rock his hips against your ass, “Haven’t what, sweetheart? Touched yourself?”

He wasn’t hard, but he wasn’t not hard – you could feel the semi he was sporting against your backside. It made you lose your trail of thought, as memories of the last time he held you against his body like this, filled your mind.

You had enough sense to shake your head, not trusting your voice to come out as words and not a strangled moan.

“No?” he teased with another rock of his hips, “Well, I have, sweetheart– touched myself thinkin’ of you.”

“Joel,” you couldn’t fight the whine from escaping as he rocked his hips against you again, his big hand slipping under your nighty.

“Touched myself thinkin’ about this beautiful fuckin’ body of yours,” his hand splayed over your tummy, traveling upwards to grab at your breast. “Thought about these pretty tits,” his voice got lower, whispering in your ear as he flicked a finger over your nipple, making you sigh. He let go of your breast, hand gliding down your body to ghost over the hem of your panties, “And this tight little pussy,” he finished.

“Joel,” you sighed, body reacting automatically to his touch. His breath in your ear sent goosebumps down the whole of your body, and a whine fell from your lips as he palmed your heat over your panties, feeling your arousal starting to soak the cotton.

“Yes, sweetheart, say my name as I touch your pussy. Tell me who’s makin’ you feel good.”

Fuck, it took all your strength to gather your thoughts, “Joel, it’s–” you let out a gasp as his fingers found your clit.

“What, baby?”

“It’s– It’s late,” you managed to breathe out.

And just like that, the spell was broken. His hand slipped from your cunt to rest over your waist. You twisted around to face him, a pang of guilt filling your chest.

“I’m s-sorry, I just–”

He cut you off by pressing his lips against yours in a quick kiss. “Don’t you apologize to me,” he said, eyes boring into yours, “If you ain’t feelin’ it, I ain’t feelin’ it, okay?”

You felt yourself nod, your chest filling with gratefulness. You wanted Joel so much, you did, you wanted him to feel good, but you didn’t want it at 3am when you had to wake up in four hours.

“Thank you,” you whispered gratefully, your forehead falling against his.

He shifted his face, cheek brushing against your forehead until you felt him press a kiss to your skin. “Nothin’ to thank me for, my sweet girl.”

You shifted closer to him, cheek boring into his naked chest, “It’s not that I don’t want to,” you told him, “I’m just so tired.”

Pulling you closer to his body, Joel wrapped his strong arms around you, “’s okay, baby, you just close your pretty eyes, okay?”

You nodded against his head before you whispered, “Good night, Joel.”

“Night, sweet girl.”

“Hey,” you felt a nudge in your side pull you from your dream, “How d’you turn off this thing?”

Then you heard it. Your alarm. The beeping was loud and obnoxious, but it did the job to wake you, usually.

With heavy limbs you sat up on your elbow, goosebumps spreading over the newly exposed skin as you leaned over Joel’s body to press the snooze button. His big hands found your waist when you leaned back, guiding you to straddle his body.

His lips found yours in a soft kiss, then another before he mumbled, “Good mornin’,” against your lips.

He didn’t give you the chance to reply as he pulled you into yet another kiss. It took you by surprise, your hand coming up to press into the pillow next to his head, to hold your weight. Under the duvet you felt his hand travel down your body, slipping under the hem of your nighty and dragging upwards, cupping your ass as he pulled the fabric with him. His touch ignited something in you, making you whimper against his lips.

“There she is,” he whispered, pulling away from your lips with a loud smack to press kisses along your jaw. It made you sigh, your body going lax in his arms as he pulled you closer, mind going blank from his loving. Then he suddenly tightened his arms around your body, his strong hand splaying over your back as he flipped you around to lay on your back beneath him. A small yelp fell from your lips at the sudden movement, the yelp turning into a giggle when he dived into the crook of your neck, his mustache tickling you as he pressed small kisses against your skin.

With a hasty hand he balled the fabric of your nighty in his hands, pushing it up your body to reveal your naked body to him. He sucked a breath through his teeth at the sight, eyes hungry with lust as they raked over your form.

“Need to fuckin’ taste you, sweetheart.” His voice was a low rasp, coated in residual sleep and arousal, “Been thinkin’ about how sweet you taste this whole weekend.”

You couldn’t hold back the whine at the back of your throat at his words, hips bucking by their own accord where he had your legs splayed open over his thighs. Arousal spread like electricity through your body, where it pooled like dripping honey in your tummy.

“Please,” you begged when his fingers found the hem of your panties, his pointer finger dipping beneath the band to run it across your skin.

“Yeah?” he coaxed, “Want me to eat your little pussy, sweet girl?” his finger stretched at the elastic, letting it slap against your skin as he pulled away. Under him you whined, frantic hands finding the back of his neck to pull him closer to you. In your hurry to kiss him, you missed his mouth, clumsily bumping your nose into his instead.

It made him breathe out a shallow chuckle, “Okay, baby, okay. I’ll take care of ya.”

He pulled back from you, your hands around his neck falling to your sides, and softly hitting your mattress. Grabbing at the soft flesh at the back of your thighs, he spread them wider, putting your covered cunt on display for him. His eyes drank in your body, studied how soft and pliant you’d gone from his touch.

You watched his face, his eyes, his lip twitching with a wicked smile when you jumped under his finger, starting to press slow circles down on your covered clit. He dipped his finger lower, caressing your folds over the fabric before he pressed two fingers into your covered hole as far as your panties allowed. You could feel how soaked you already were, your dripping cunt fluttering around nothing when he pulled back.

“Let’s get you out of these, huh?” he said, voice dripping with pity, “My sweet girl’s just beggin’ to be touched, ain’t she?”

To your own surprise you managed to peep out an answer, “Yes.” Your voice came out strangled and begging, your mind clouded over with Joel.

“Yes, that’s right, baby, you’re such a good girl, let me hear you.” He hooked his finger under the elastic, tapping your ass lightly. You lifted up off the mattress, helping him drag your soaked panties down your legs.

Under him you felt your mouth drop open slightly, watching him as he clasped your panties in his hand, his thumb rubbing at the wetness with a cocky smile tugging at the corner of his lips. With his thumb coated in you, he dropped your panties, losing them in the sheets as he brought his attention back on you.

His eyes bored into yours as he lowered himself between your legs pressing soft kisses against your inner thigh. His big hands splayed over the back of your legs, pushing them closer to your chest to putt your naked and dripping cunt back on display. You held your breath as you waited for him to finally touch you where you wanted, but then he hesitated. The air was charged with arousal, his breath fanning over your throbbing clit. A thought of how you might die if he didn’t touch you soon, crossed your mind.

With a desperate whine, your hand tangled in his hair. You didn’t know what to do, so you begged, “Please, Joel?”

His eyes found yours immediately, where he saw how much you needed him, but he needed it in words, “Y’want me to touch you, sweetheart? To eat your pussy?”

“Yes,” the words fell from your lips so fast you almost cut him off, “Please,” you added for good measure.

Your consent was all he wanted. He dipped his head to lick ever so gently at your clit, making you mewl under him, a needy desperate sound, begging for more. When he wrapped his lips around your clit, and sucked, that’s when you turned into a withering moaning mess under him, hips bucking into his mouth, chasing more of the pleasure he was giving you.

Joel hummed against you, the bass of his voice vibrating against your most sensitive spot, pulling you deeper under the blanket of pleasure.

When his hand loosened its grip around the back of your thigh to caress your folds, a moan got caught in your throat. “P-please” you stuttered, dying to have his fingers split you open and coaxing you towards your release.

But Joel removed his fingers, continuing to explore you with his tongue instead. He dipped down, tongue lapping at your folds, tasting your arousal like he told you’d he’d been dying to. With one fat lick up the length of your pussy he took your clit back in his mouth, going back to lapping and circling it just right, coaxing you closer and closer.

“Fuck.”

You were hauling quickly towards your orgasm. Your eyebrows twisted together in a tight frown, fingers gripping and tugging at his hair, your leg close to shaking with the intensity. You were right there on the edge.

Then he abruptly pulled away. The disappointing mewl escaped you on instinct, and Joel laughed. Laughed. Your heart twisted in on itself at the sound.

“W-what?” you muttered, confusion painting your features when he sat up.

Joel grinned down at you, a mischievous glint in his eye as he leaned down to your face and cupped your chin, his thumb rubbing your skin with tenderness.

“Want you to be good f’me, sweet girl, can you do that?”

Your head moved in his hand, a timid nod as you searched his face. “I–I can be good.”

His grin widened, all teeth and crinkles around his eyes. He squeezed your cheeks together lightly, a small pout forming to kiss away.

“Good girl.”

His mustache tickled your cupid’s bow, and you could taste yourself on his tongue, taste how desperate for him you were.

He left you breathless when he pulled away, your body all loose and pliant from his touch, not registering what he was doing until he was back to sitting between your legs. Your eyes raked over his body, his broad shoulders, trailing his happy trail down his torso to his waist, noticing the shape of his hard cock in his briefs, a wet spot staining them where the head was.

Fuck, you wanted him inside you.

Then you noticed his hands, and what he was in them. The dildo, of him. You shifted up the bed in surprise. Your nighty fell down over your chest as you sat up on your elbows, watching him with wide eyes.

He watched you too, turning the dildo in his hand to nudge at your entrance as he leaned forward to hover over your body, a big hand on your chest pushing you down.

“Are you gonna be good?” 

“Joel,” you gasped, feeling your hole flutter in anticipation.

“Are you?” he pressed, rubbing the silicone head slowly up and down your folds, coating it in your arousal.

“Y-yeah, y-yes,” you nodded, face heating from the obscene slick sounds of your arousal.

With a wicked grin, his eyes flicked back to your aching cunt, before he pushed the head inside slowly, feeding your more and more until the dildo was buried inside you. A broken moan fell from your lips, mouth dropping open from the pleasure of being stretched.

“There you go, sweetheart. ‘s big stretch, isn’t it? Doing so good for me, my good girl, honey, my good fuckin’ girl.”

He pushed the toy in and out in shallow thrusts, working you open around the fake cock. It wasn’t the same, but still the stretch was divine. With his eyes glued to your cunt he pulled the dildo all the way out, only the head notched at your entrance, before slowly thrusting in all the way. You whimpered when you felt him nudge at your spot inside, your hand desperately grabbing for his other arm to anchor you from falling over the edge too soon.

“Joel,” you whimpered, “P-please, t-touch m-my–”

Joel picked up his pace, fucking you faster and deeper with the dildo, the obscene squelching sounds of your cunt filled the air between your moans. His grip tightened in your hand, guiding it to hover over your clit.

“Touch your what, honey?” He teased, pressing your fingers down, guiding them in tight circles.

“Ah– fuck,” you whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as you felt the coil in your tummy tighten, and tighten, and tighten.

Then it all became too much. With a broken cry you came, squeezing hard around the fake cock. Joel continued fucking you, a small gush of liquid pouring down over the toy with each thrust, as you pulsed and squirmed around it.

Catching your breath, you came down from your high, while small jolts of pleasure crashed over you, making your legs shake like a leaf in a storm. It was like your ears were ringing, before you realized they were actually ringing.

“This fuckin’ alarm,” Joel muttered, hovering over you to turn it off.

His voice brought you back to earth, as you turned your head to look at the time. Shit, you were gonna be late!

With shaky hands you glided your hand down your cunt to grab at the base of the toy still inside you, “Joel, we’re gonna be late for your meeting,” you murmured, slipping the dildo from your cunt. Everything was sticky and messy between your legs, a big wet stain growing under your ass.

Joel pushed your hand away, like he was scolding you for touching what was his. “We can be a little late, sweetheart,” he said calmly, before ducking down to press a kiss to your clit.

You shifted up the bed, away from his touch, anxiety an endless spiral in your tummy. “No, we can’t, Joel– They told me it’s a pitch for a new movie, you’ll miss out on a big opportunity if you don’t show.”

Between your legs, Joel’s head dropped to your chest, as a pained sigh left his lungs. He went quiet for a beat as you watched the messy curls at the top of his head, then he lifted his head to look at you, “Okay, then.”

You felt bad leaving him hanging as you both got out of bed, his rock-hard cock strained desperately against the fabric of his briefs – just dying to be touched.

“Joel, I-I’m sorry,” you closed the space between you, snaking your arms around him.

“Sweetheart, ya need to stop apologizin’”, he placed a dry kiss to the top of your head, steady hands finding your waist. Your heart swelled in your chest. He made you feel so safe.

You almost muttered another ‘I’m sorry’, before catching yourself, “Okay,” you nodded against his chest. You basked in his touch for another minute, his strong arms around you, breathing in the comforting scent of him – the intoxicating mix of his faded cologne, cigarettes and sex.

“You were enjoyin’ it though, weren’t you?” Joel asked as he pulled away. You could see the cheeky smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he looked down at you, “So tell me, sweetheart... it better’n the real thing?”

“No,” you said, your own teasing smile tickling your lips as you detangled yourself from him, and turned around to head towards the bathroom, “Real thing’s better.”

Suddenly you felt his hands on your hips, and then Joel was pulling you back against him. He pressed himself against you so you could feel how hard he still was, his aching cock barely contained by his briefs.

“Attagirl,” he half-whispered, half-groaned into your ear, breath fanning over your neck and making you shiver. 

“I need a shower,” you said with a giggle, stepping away from him before turning around again, only for Joel to pull you close once more. He found your eyes, his hands barely loosening their grip on your body. You could still feel him against you, his hard cock now pressed against your stomach. “Do you… maybe,” you bit down on your bottom lip, wide eyes searching his face.

“Wanna shower with you?” he helped you with a grin, and you nodded.

Your shower was cramped, too small to fit two people, and even though you had been the one to ask, you still felt nervous under the streaming water. He looked so good; your eyes couldn’t help but trail the water droplets racing down his thick muscles. He watched you too, but more openly, his eyes not afraid to trail down your body – to glide over your tits, down your back, and over the curve of your ass.

And then there was his cock, still hard and leaking, making its presence known between you like a third person. What made it worse was that he didn’t even acknowledge it, just went about washing his body like nothing, pushing back his wet curls as he rinsed your shampoo from his hair.

Did he want you to say something? The thought fluttered in your stomach.

“Um, Joel?” your voice echoed against the tiles.

You watched as he tipped his head forward from under the showerhead, eyes blinking at you as soapsuds hit his broad shoulders and ran down his chest.

“You know– um… I can–”

Jesus Christ! Could you be less sexy.

When he didn’t say anything, you breathed out a nervous sigh, eyes flitting down to his cock, hoping he would take the hint.

And he did.

“You wanna touch my cock, sweet girl?” His whole demeanor shifted.

“Would that– would that be okay?” you said, your teeth catching on your bottom lip.

“More than okay, sweetheart,” he said, with a devilish grin.

You took a few steps closer, a shaky hand landing on his waist while the other hovered between your bodies, right above where his heavy cock twitched in anticipation.

You didn’t know what to do. Well, you did. You’d seen it enough times at work to know, but you’d never actually done it before. Another reminder of just how inexperienced you were when it came to all of this. You looked at him with uncertainty, for guidance, and without uttering a single word, Joel knew what you were asking.

He curled his fingers around your wrist, bringing it up to his face, and spat. Using that tender grip he guided your hand down between your bodies again – the back of your hand brushed against the rough hair of his happy trail – and down to the base of his aching cock.

“There ya go,” he whispered as your fingers wrapped around him, Joel’s spit smearing over his shaft as you moved upwards in an experimenting stroke, “Good girl, just like that,” he hissed through his teeth.

You tilted your head to watch his face. Watched how his eyes were so fixated on your hand wrapped around him as you began to slowly stroke his cock, familiarizing yourself with the weight and feel of him in your hand. You didn’t miss the way his breathing shifted, releasing a sound you’d never heard come from his lips before. A whimper.

“Am–am I doing okay?” you asked, your eyes following his down to your hand wrapped around him. He was so big in your hand, your fingers struggling to meet around the girth of him.

He hissed out a strained laugh. “Yeah, baby, you’re doing so good– massage the head for me a little,” Joel groaned.

You did as you were told, bringing your hand up to the tip with a tug, squeezing out a pearl of precum. It dripped down over your hand, your thumb skating over the sensitive head, and smearing it all over.

“Shit,” Joel hissed, “keep doin’ that, sweetheart, bein’ so good f’me,” he praised, encouraging you.

You’d never seen Joel like this before. So at your mercy– at anyone’s mercy – always the one to take charge. But now he was falling apart from your touch. He encouraged you further as his breath got heavier. You sped up the strokes over his cock, and his body slumped into yours, face buried in the crook of your neck, as he whispered breathy babblings of praise into your skin. A glowing feeling of pride grew in your chest as you brought him closer and closer to his release.

“I’m close, baby,” he whimpered in your ear, “don’t fuckin’ stop.”

So you didn’t.

With your hand tight around his cock, you quickened your pace, tracing your thumb over his slit just like he’d told you to do earlier. A slick noise of spit and precum echoed against your bathroom tiles. His thighs tensed, his hand grabbed at your waist to pin you to his body, and you knew he was right on the edge.

“Fuck, I’m comin’.”

With a string of praising curses, he came apart in your hand. His thighs clenched, his heavy balls tightening as cum spurted from his tip in ribbons over your hand. The bass of his voice vibrated against your skin, as you continued working him through his high, slicking up your hand and fingers even more.

You squeezed him until there was only a small dribble pearling at his tip. A white stream of cum ran down his cock and down to his balls, dripping down onto the tiles of your shower floor. And then it was too much, and Joel hissed, lifting his head from the crook of your neck to dab your hand away.

He didn’t say anything, only grabbing your face with both hands, crashing his lips against yours in a desperate kiss. With your hand messy from his release, you didn’t know where to touch him, opting to grab at his elbow with your other hand to steady yourself.

Out in the hallway, your phone rang, forcing you to breathlessly pull away. With a sorry smile, you ran your messy hand under the showerhead before quickly pulling at the shower curtain.

The phone rang loudly as you tiptoed down the hallway. Water droplets ran down your skin, leaving a trail of dark spots on the carpet. Your hand clung to the towel you’d wrapped around yourself while the other hurried to answer the phone.

“Hello?” you sang.

“Hi, sweetie, it’s your uncle,” a gruff voice answered.

“Oh, hi,” you said, leaning against the wall.

Down the hall your bathroom door opened, steam framing Joel’s body as he stepped out naked as the day he was born, with a towel resting over his shoulders. His heavy cock soft between his strong thighs– it was like a scene straight out of a porno, one he’d probably starred in. He caught your eye, and smiled, making his way towards you as he brought the towel up to dry his hair, his biceps flexing with the effort.

“What was that?” you stuttered, completely missing what your uncle had said on the other end.

“Almost hung up on ya, I said,” your uncle repeated.

“Sorry, I was just getting out of the shower.”

“I was just calling to say I’m driving a Corvette down to LA in a couple of days for a client. Was thinking I’d take you out to dinner– catch up– make sure you’re not getting up to any trouble down there,” he laughed.

His tone was lighthearted, but you couldn’t help but cringe. The trouble in question reaching his hand out to trace a drop trailing down your exposed collarbone, ducking down to place a teasing kiss to your skin.

“D-dinner sounds nice,” you managed to choke out, “Um, I know a nice Italian place down in Santa Monica.”

“Sounds great, sweetie! I’ll call ya after I’ve dropped off the car Thursday afternoon,” your uncle’s static voice replied.

“Thursday afternoon,” you repeated, “Ok, see you then!”

“So…” Joel started, his arms snaking their way around your form. “I ain’t the only man who wants a piece of ya,” he joked, after you’d hung up the phone,

“That was my uncle, Joel,” you let him know, your body melting against his touch.

“He’s takin’ you to dinner?” he queried.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “he’s driving a car down here for work, so he wanted to see me.”

Joel hummed, dropping his head to brush his lips over yours as his hand splayed over your waist slid down to the curve of your ass.

“Nonono,” you chuckled, pulling away, “Joel, we’re already late as is!”

“So what,” Joel groaned, pulling you back for another kiss, hands tightening their grip on your ass, before trailing soft kisses to the corner of your mouth, “We could stay in ya know... enjoy the real thing.”

Joel’s kisses continued along the line of your jaw, teeth grazing your skin.

“As tempting as that sounds,” you let out through a small groan as you felt his tongue tickle that spot under your jaw, “We can’t cancel this meeting.”

Joel’s lips stopped their descent towards your neck, and he took a breath, the force of it tickling your skin, before he lifted his head, lips grazing across your jaw as he kissed the corner of your mouth again.

“Later,” you promise him, eyes looking into his. Joel’s smile was wistful, another small sigh escaping through his nostrils before he brushed his lips over yours.

“Later.”

“Let’s get started? Or do we want some coffees before we start?” Ronald asked from his seat at the head of the table.

You were seated in a chair in the corner, the cigarette smoke hung low over the room. In your lap your notebook rested, cracked spine opened to a random blank page while your fingers fiddled with your pen.

All the big important men from VCA were here, eager to finally work with the infamous Joel Packer on their new big-budget project. The last couple of years had been big for Joel, multiple magazine photoshoots, longer features and obviously modeling for a sextoy, but this film would be his biggest opportunity. It would bring in a lot of money, and Ronald knew it. He couldn’t hide the dollar signs in his eyes behind his ‘friendly’ grin.

“Ey, sweetheart!” Ronald raised his voice. You lifted your gaze from your notebook, curious as to what he was yelling about.

“Yeah, you!” He looked straight at you, a hand waving you towards him. Did he forget your name? You wouldn’t put it past him.

Leaving your notebook and pen in your chair you walked over to him, hands wringing behind your back as you stood behind Joel where he sat to Ronald’s right. He looked at you with impatience, a crude finger motioning you closer.

“Why don’t you go get us all some coffees, sweetie?” he spat out the order, his sour breath hitting you in your face.

“Um, uh,” you looked to Joel for help. This wasn’t your job; this was a job for an intern. It was important for you to be here, to take notes, to know what arrangements needed to be done, and which people to call.

“Um, uh,” Ronald parroted, “just do it– isn’t it what I’m paying you for?”

It wasn’t, but now everyone was looking at you. Everyone except for Joel. His gaze bored into the teak in front of him, fingers tightly pinched around a cigarette. With no help from Joel, you held your tongue and muttered a “Yes, sir,” to Ronald before you turned on heels.

“Alright! I wanna start by introducing Cheryl here, making her film debut alongside Joel–” you heard Ronald start as you slipped through the door of the meeting room.

Outside the meeting room, you were met with a brown hallway, identical to the left and right. Wood paneling clad the walls, and you couldn’t help your eyes from peeking through the glass partition walls of other meeting rooms as you made your way down the hall. Everything looked the same. You turned a corner, and you swore you’d been there before. After walking for what felt like a small eternity, you made it to a break room with a small kitchenette.

The coffee in the pot looked old and stale, and you poured it out in the sink. As you waited for the fresh pot to brew you searched through the cupboards for a coffee carafe. The cupboards of the kitchenette were pretty empty, only filled with mugs and drinking glasses. With a sigh you kneeled to look through the cabinet below the sink.  You tried your best to be fast, not wanting to miss anything important. Finally, you found what you were looking for. With fresh coffee in one hand, and paper cups in the other, you made your way back down a hallway you hoped would bring you back to the meeting.

A couple of wrong turns later you let out a sigh of relief as you peaked Joel through the glass partition wall of the meeting room. This better be good enough for Ronald, you thought as you opened the door, not bothering to knock.

“And I think that’s about it,” one of the men opposite Joel said as you placed the coffee and paper cups on the table, “We’ll break for lunch and go ahead with the chemistry test later today.”

Did you really just miss the whole meeting?

“Sounds great,” Ronald said, pushing his chair out, and standing to his feet to shake the hands of the men from VCA. Then the rest of the room came alive as people got up from their seats and gathering their things. In front of you a chair bumped into you, pushing you a little off balance.

“Oh! Sorry– didn’t see you there.”

It was Cheryl, Joel’s new co-star. She was young, just turned twenty-one if you remembered correctly, and gorgeous. Her blonde hair, curled to perfection, cascaded down her back. Her light blue dress clung tightly to her body, accentuating her curves while the deep v-neck showed off her cleavage.

You shook your head and put on a smile, muttering an “It’s okay,” as you stepped out of her way, and shifted closer to Joel. He was busy gathering the papers spread out in front of him on the table, tapping them lightly against the teak before gathering them in his hands, turning towards you and Cheryl.

When you didn’t make a move to leave, Cheryl cleared her throat, widening her eyes at Joel as they flickered towards you. Your heart sunk in your chest. It didn’t take a genius to take her hint – you knew when you weren’t wanted.

“I’ll uh… I’ll wait for you down in the reception,” you muttered to Joel, “Let me know what you want for lunch, and I’ll get you something.” Before he could say anything, you turned around to leave, grabbing your notebook and pen.

You knew you shouldn’t have looked back as you made your way out the door, but you did. The cold stone in your chest sank lower as you watched them. Cheryl’s body curled towards Joel as they talked, her hand landing on his bicep as she let out a giggly laugh. It made your heart sting, but maybe not as much as the ache of watching Joel’s bright smile, the one he so often gave you.

Over fifteen minutes later, Joel finally walked into the reception where you waited for him. You were hard to miss where you sat on one of the couches, reading a magazine, the only person occupying the space.

“Whatcha readin’?” he asked, slumping down next to you, so close his arm brushed against yours.

You couldn’t watch his bright eyes, and the cheeky smile tugging at his lips. So, you held up one of the porn magazines you’d grabbed off the coffee table, blocking his view of your face, substituting it with the woman adorning the front and posing seductively to the camera, showing off the biggest boobs you’d ever seen.

“Industry news,” you shrugged.

You earned yourself a chuckle, “Anythin’ interestin’?”

“Not really,” you sighed, quickly shutting the magazine, and throwing it haphazardly on the table.

You could feel his warmth beside you, his broad frame, and strong arms. The same arms who’d held you so close this morning. Still, you didn’t look at him, your gaze falling to your fiddling hands in your lap. A piece of skin around your thumb had come loose, and it burned as you pulled at it.

“Um…” you started, still watching your hands, “What’s the plan for lunch? You want me to go down to that deli you like– get you a sandwich?”

Joel’s arm brushed against you as he shifted in his seat, bucking his hips slightly to fish out his pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. “Ain’t no need to do that for me, sweetheart,” he said, his voice slightly muffled by the cigarette between his lips.

“Well, it’s kinda my job,” you mumbled, your face pulling up into a slight frown as you ripped the loose skin around your thumb.

“Yeah– but,” Joel drew a breath of his cigarette.

Now you looked at him, eyebrows pulled tight in a real frown, “But what?”

He watched you, eyes dancing over your face as he took another drag, releasing the smoke out the corner of his mouth.

“Nothin’.”

You couldn’t interpret his face with the way he was looking at you, almost as he was searching for something. A silence grew between you – it was ugly and festering, like a canyon had grown between you – it was something you’d never felt with Joel before.

“A sandwich sounds nice,” he finally spoke across the silence, and you nodded.

“Um– can I borrow your car?” you asked, clearing your throat of your anxiety.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” It was like your question had woken him.

Joel had driven you both into work today, your car sitting pretty in its parking space outside your apartment complex. He rested his half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray on the table before he fished his car keys from his jeans pocket and handed them to you.

“They have me set up in a trailer out on the lot next door– I’ll wait for ya there, alright?” The hand handing you his keys locked around yours, caging them between your hands.

You squeezed his hand, the familiar weight of it in your hand, the tenderness in which he held you, made you feel a little better. Shrinking the deep canyon between you to a ravine.

“Um, why exactly?” you asked, eyes glued to your intertwined hands.

“Shit– sorry,” Joel shook his head and shifted closer to you, his knee brushing against yours, “they want me and Cheryl to have a chemistry test before they go ahead with signin’ the contracts. It’s nothin’ big or anythin’– just a blowjob.”

Just a blowjob.

You nodded slowly. It was just a blowjob, but it was a blowjob from Cheryl. Cheryl who was younger with the perfect body. Cheryl who made him smile and laugh. Cheryl who could give him a blowjob, and not some sorry excuse of a handjob.

“Oh, okay,” you peeped, loosening your grip around his hand, clasping the keys in your hand.

You got up from the couch before he could say anything more, “I’ll go get you your lunch then.”

His cigarette resting in the ashtray had burned out, like your conversation with Joel. You bent slightly to grab your purse when his hands clasped around your wrist, bringing your attention back on him.

“’s everythin’ alright?” he asked you as he got up from the couch as well, closing the space between you.

Your lips pulled into a smile, one you hoped was convincing, “Yeah! Why wouldn’t it?”

His other hand came up to cup your cheek gently, shifting your face to look at him. “’s just for work, you know,” he told you.

Your head was nodding even before he’d finished talking, your face still pulled tight in a smile, “Yeah, Joel, I know.”

“Okay,” he whispered and leaned closer. You shifted your face in his palm, his lips hitting your other cheek in a short peck before you were pulling away. His fingers like a bracelet around your wrist, fell heavy to his side.

“See you in a little bit,” you told him before pushing the door to the reception open and stepping outside.

Some forty minutes later you were knocking on a trailer door with the sign ‘Joel Packer’ hanging on the front. In your other hand you were balancing two coffees and a bag with two sandwiches. You knocked again when nothing happened, scared you’d shown up to the wrong trailer for a second, even with the sign telling you, you were in the right place.

“Joel? I have your lunch.”

“Come in,” he answered almost immediately.

You opened the trailer door and stepped inside, careful not to spill the coffees all over the carpeted floor of his trailer as you balanced everything. With the door closed you turned around, eyes scanning the cramped room for Joel.

He was laying on the couch, one hand down the front of his pants where he palmed himself over his briefs – a lazy smile resting over his features as he took you in.

“Oh! Sorry,” you quickly looked away, scurrying to place his food on the nearest table.

Behind you Joel got up from the couch, crossing the small space between you to wrap his arms around your body, and press his front against your ass. You jumped in his grasp, your hands finding his where they rested around your waist.

“Stop apologizin’” he whispered in your ear, his teeth catching on your earlobe, “was just gettin’ ready, baby,” his breath was hot against the column of your neck, and you felt his cock grow against your ass. “Ain’t gonna have any trouble gettin’ hard now though,” he chuckled.

“Joel,” you whined, the sound pathetic at the back of your throat.

“Yes, baby, let me hear ya,” you could feel the bass in his voice vibrate against your skin.

His hands spread over your body, drinking you in with his touch, grabbing at your breast while pressing tender kisses to your neck. You melted against him, body soft and pliant. In an instant you were back in your memories from this morning, and you couldn’t fight the whimper from falling from your lips. With closed eyes your memories mixed with your present. Images of how he’d kissed you, touched you, and taken care of you this morning blended with the firm press of his body against yours and his calloused hands exploring you; like how you could still see your reflection in rippling water.

“Joel,” you tried again.

“I know, my sweet girl,” he cooed.

Behind you he bucked his hips against your ass, the bulge of his hard cock splitting your cheeks. You felt your arousal wet your panties, an ache of anticipation settling in your core.

“Fuck, sweetheart– wish it was you getting on your knees for me later.” He whispered his filthy words in your ear with another buck of his hips. “Wanna feel your tight little throat around my cock as you choke on it.”

His confession made a nervousness intertwine itself with your blinding arousal. You turned around in his arms, your face nuzzled into the dip where his neck met his collarbone, “I-I’ve never done that before.” Your confession was barely a whisper, the words muffled into his skin.

His grip tightened around you, and you felt the way his body moved under your cheek, a comforting hand landed carefully at the back of your neck. His jaw and cheek bumped against the top of your head as he dipped down to your face and his breath changed like he was about to say something, but then was interrupted by a hollow knock on the trailer door.

“We’re ready for you on set in fifteen minutes, Mr. Miller,” a voice called.

With the knock the spell was broken. You untangled yourself from his embrace, a shy smile ghosting over your lips as you stepped away.

“You should eat.”

Again, you’d agreed to watch him film. Joel had convinced you on his way out the trailer door, his hand resting at the small of your back as he led you towards the set. It was a small shoot – only Joel and Cheryl, the cameraman, the sound guy, a couple people from VCA, Ronald, and you. In the time you’d worked for Joel, you couldn’t remember a set feeling this intimate (not that you usually stayed to watch– not unless he explicitly asked).

The only goal for the scene was to find out if Joel and Cheryl worked well together on camera – hence no specific storyline or roles they were supposed to act out. Joel was getting his dick sucked, but other than that they were free to take the scene whichever way they wanted.

The room buzzed with quiet conversation as the cameraman got the camera and film ready. Joel was already seated on the couch where the scene would take place. His legs were spread wide, his hard bulge on display as he leisurely smoked a cigarette. Cheryl had taken up the seat beside him, leaning her elbow on the back and resting her head in her hands. They were talking, but you couldn’t hear from where you stood in the corner. Every now and then Joel’s eyes would search for yours, meeting them for a moment as a small smile spread across his lips, before they would flick back to Cheryl, joining their conversation again.

A few minutes later, the cameraman gave the okay to start shooting, making the rest of the set settle down. Joel still smoked his cigarette, so you took it upon yourself to be a good assistant and walk over to him with an ashtray.

A smile spread across Joel’s face when he saw you approach. His arm came up to rest over the back of the couch, his body opening to you with curiosity. You gave him a small smile in return, presenting the ashtray to him with a teasing raise of your eyebrow.

“Just ‘nother drag, sweetheart,” he teased, placing his cigarette back between his lips.

“Nuh-uh,” you chuckled, stealing his cigarette from his mouth with two pinched fingers.

The rest of the smoke in his lungs came out in small chuckles, his hands gathering in his lap as he leaned slightly towards you, moony eyes watching you. He was about to say something before,

“Quiet on set,” the cameraman interrupted with a shout.

You wanted to do something. Cup his cheek, kiss him, anything to just touch him, but you couldn’t. You needed to keep it professional. Instead, you gave him another small smile before you walked back to your previous spot in the corner.

“And… action!”

With the shout of the cameraman, the film was rolling, and the shoot had started.

Leaning against the wall again, you crossed your arms over your chest as you watched Cheryl sink to her knees between Joel’s spread legs. On her lips she wore an innocent pout while her hands caressed his thighs.

“Wanna put my mouth on it,” she said in a sweet voice.

“Yeah, baby? What do you want in your pretty little mouth?” Joel’s voice was deep and coaxing, his hand cupping Cheryl’s chin where his thumb ghosted over her skin.

Cheryl tilted her face down slightly, eyes big and wide as she looked up at him through her lashes.

“Your cock, sir,” she pouted.

You still didn’t know much of the plot to the porno they were shooting, but it was clear that they were going in a specific direction. It wasn’t unusual for Joel to slip into a more dominant character in the pornos he played in, but this new element of innocence from his scene partner wasn’t something he often did.

“You want me to teach you how to suck cock like a proper whore, sweet girl?”

Sweet girl.

You watched how Cheryl’s head nodded in his palm, teeth catching on her bottom lip, and a wicked smile tugged at the corners of Joel’s mouth. It made you shift your weight, arms tightening around your body.

“Alright…” Joel’s thumb ghosted over her bottom lip, “Take my cock out,” he ordered, pulling his hand away.

Cheryl obediently did as he said, her hands messing with the buttons on his jeans. Joel wasn’t wearing anything underneath – it was easier that way, he’d told you earlier in his trailer. Cheryl gasped as Joel’s hard cock sprung free. Her eyes wide as she watched how his cock slapped against his lower stomach.

“’s big isn’t it, sweet girl?”

Again.

Your teeth caught on your bottom lip, pulling at the loose skin with a burning ache.

“So big, sir,” Cheryl agreed, nodding her head.

“Too big for your little mouth, sweetheart?” Joel teased, taking himself in his hand, pulling gentle strokes up and down.

Cheryl shook her head again, “No, sir! I can take it!”

Joel huffed out a laugh at that, his grin growing wider. “Yes, you can, slut.”

His degrading words pulled a moan from Cheryl, and not a second later her mouth was on him. Joel laughed again, another huffing chuckle leaving him as his heavy hand came to rest at the top of her head, guiding her down on him.

“That’s it, slut, suck that big cock– take it all the way down that whore throat,” he encouraged, head tipping back in pleasure. The wet sounds echoing through the room were obscene, pornographic. Sticky strings of spit clung to Cheryl’s chin and dripped down to her breasts where she’d tugged at the V of her neckline to expose them.

“Feels so good, my sweet girl– just like that,” Joel moaned, eyes squeezed shut with a look of pleasure coating his features like he’d ascended to heaven.

My sweet girl.

The room spun, and you pressed your back harder against the wall, like it would fall down over you if you didn’t press up against it. Or maybe it was you who would cave in.

That pet name. That fucking pet name.

You needed to step out if you wanted to breathe, your throat tightening up as your thoughts drifted; to this morning in your bed and then again in the shower, to the two of you in that motel bed, to Joel’s hand on your knee as he’d knelt in front of you by the pool in Pismo Beach. Burning tears pressed behind your eyelids. You couldn’t watch any more, couldn’t hear any more, you couldn’t.

As quietly as you could you stepped out of the set. Your eyes pinched together in a squint as the hot LA afternoon sun blazed down on you. The air hot and stuffy, but not as suffocating as you felt inside.

Why did you feel this way? Jealous of another woman?

Joel wasn’t your boyfriend… at least not in so many words, but after Pismo Beach and his confession, he felt like yours. Someone you can’t help but fall in love with. That’s what he’d told you.

You couldn’t keep your thoughts from spiraling. Fall in love with? How could he be in love with you? You’d only had sex twice, never been on a proper date. You didn’t know who he was outside work. His touch and his kisses felt good, but how could you know if it was more than that – more than just something physical. He’d never called you his girlfriend. Why did you have any right to be upset right now?

This was his job. You knew that before you got involved with him. It wasn’t a problem for you, you’d told him so in the job interview. You’d spoken the truth at the time, but now you weren’t so sure.

Numbed by your realization, you stepped back inside. The scene you were met with only affirmed your thoughts.

You couldn’t give him what he wanted.

They’d moved positions. Cheryl’s head hung off the armrest, perfect boobs bouncing beneath Joel as he fucked her throat. It was lewd, and dirty and plain vulgar. With every thrust of his hips Joel earned himself a quiet gag. Under him, her body was completely at his mercy. He pulled back every once in a while, to let her breath, before plunging his hard cock back down her throat. Ropes of bubbling spit escaped her mouth and ran down her face.

Joel was completely in control, using her throat purely for his own pleasure. Groans and moans spilled from his lips in between filthy praises and ‘good girl’’s. Cheryl’s body squirmed under him, her hand rubbing quickly at her clit under her dress, edging herself towards her orgasm.

This is what Joel wanted. Someone like Cheryl– someone who was confident and skilled, someone who knew what she was doing.

You watched Joel’s thrusts turn sloppy, and that now familiar pinch in his brow let you know he was about to bust his load. With a quick motion he jerked his cock back, taking his throbbing and sensitive cock in hand, fisting himself quickly. Cheryl gasped for air, before she withered with her orgasm.

Joel groaned louder than you’d ever heard him before, his eyes flicking up from Cheryl’s squirming body to find yours. A smile spread across his face then, and then he was spilling over his knuckles and painting Cheryl’s face with his release.

“Shit,” Joel panted, coming down. His hand squeezed the last few drops of his cum out of his cock and onto Cheryl’s tongue.

“Aaaand– cut,” the camera man yelled.

Joel dropped the act immediately, stepping away from a ruined Cheryl as his cock went soft in his hand.

“Shit,” Cheryl groaned, wiping some of the mix of spit and Joel’s cum from her face.

“You okay?” Joel asked, tender hands helping her sit upright.

Cheryl giggled sweetly, big smile blossoming over her features, “Okay? More than okay, Joel– fucking amazing.”

As the gentle lover you knew him to be, Joel helped Cheryl clean up her face after getting handed a towel, but not before assessing the picture he’d painted– which wasn’t much, not compared the cumshots he usually gave out.  

“If I knew I’d be filmin’ today I wouldn’t have jerked of this morning,” he laughed, wiping her face.

It wasn’t funny.

part three -> here

i hope this was okay? and that you liked this! <3 as always feedback as a comment, in the tags, as an ask or reply is very much appreciated, and they make me super happy! <3

[munson-blurbs]

Best friend!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friend gets a lot more than he bargained for when he walks in on you wearing only your Hellfire Club t-shirt.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), dry humping, thigh riding, cumming in pants

WC: 1.2k

A/N: Reader is described as wearing an oversized Hellfire t-shirt. This is her shirt, not Eddie's. There is no indication of her size whatsoever.

--

Once I had a love and it was a gas

Soon turned out had a heart of glass

Your toothbrush is clenched in your hand, but instead of cleaning your teeth, it serves as a microphone while you dance around your bedroom. The stereo is playing loudly; you can’t even hear the creaking staircase floorboards over the music. 

Seemed like the real thing, only to find

Mucho mistrust, love’s gone be—AAAAH!

Your palm flies to your chest when you see Eddie standing in your doorway, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. 

“And here I thought I was the rockstar in this friendship,” he smirks, arms folded across his chest. 

Your heart rate slowly returns back to a pace that won’t send you to an early grave. “Jesus, Eddie! What are you doing here?”

“Figured I’d stop by,” he replies nonchalantly. “Y’know, you probably shouldn’t leave your front door unlocked while your folks aren’t home. Anyone could walk in off the street.” He flops onto your bed with an exaggerated exhale, looking pointedly in your direction. “Nice pants, by the way.”

Nice pants? You’re ready to sleep; an oversized Hellfire tee serving as your pajamas. You’re not even wearing—oh. 

You tug at the hem, but even after years of wear, it doesn’t stretch below your thighs. Heat blooms in your face. “Yeah, well,” you sputter, “I wasn’t expecting visitors.”

Eddie pouts. “You mean you didn’t wear that ‘specially for little ol’ me?” He ducks as you hurl your toothbrush at his head. He opens his mouth to say something before quickly clamping it shut, but not before you notice. 

“What?”

“N-Nothing.”

You cross your arms, more firm this time. “What?!”

“When you, uh, threw the toothbrush…your shirt…” His face turns bright red as he scrambles to explain. “…it, uh, kinda rode up.” His Adam’s apple bobs nervously. 

“It’s just underwear. You’ve seen me in a swimsuit before.” You try to hide your own embarrassment, playing it off coolly, but all you can think about is the fact that Eddie Munson saw your panties. 

He nods, wiping his palms on his jeans. “Right, yeah. Totally the same thing.” He clears his throat. “Well, I should get going.” He pushes on his knees, starting to stand up, but abruptly stops. “Actually, um, maybe I’ll hang out here for a bit, if you wanna maybe put…put something else on.” Pink embarrassment blooms in his cheeks, spreading down his neck. 

“No, I’m going to bed, and you’re leaving. We can get breakfast tomorrow morning or something.” You sigh when he doesn’t move, making your way to where he’s sitting. “C’mon, time to—”

Eddie attempts to hunch himself over, but there’s no hiding the hardening bulge straining behind his zipper. 

It’s only natural, you tell yourself. He’s a twenty-year-old guy; he’ll get a boner if the wind blows the wrong way. It doesn’t mean he’s into you. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. This is super weird, and I shouldn’t have come in without knocking.” He buries his head in his hands. “Just…give me a sec, okay?”

“Okay.” Now’s your chance. If there’s any time to find out if he’s into you, it’s when he’s sporting a stiffie in your bedroom. “Or…I could help you with it?”

His head whips around so fast that his curls are a blur of brown. “Wh-What? Like, help me…?” He’s desperate for you to finish his sentence, not wanting to say something that makes the situation even more awkward. 

“I can help you get off. If you want. Or you can just use my bathroom and, I dunno, rub one out.” You cringe at the phrasing. “No pressure.”

“Um, yeah. No pressure.” His thumbs circle each other, an anxious habit he’s had for years. “So if you were gonna help me out, what would that look like?”

You shrug, a half-smile gracing your lips. “I guess I’d do this first.” You place one hand on each of his shoulders, straddling his waist with your bare thighs. “And then I’d kiss you?”

“Mhm, please.” Eddie grips your hips as you lean in, mouths finding one another in unhurried splendor. He tastes like stale Camels and spearmint gum, only breaking the connection to trail his lips down your neck. 

It’s your favorite spot to be kissed, and the way his teeth nip at your flesh, tongue gliding over the mark as though sealing it in, has you grinding down on him. 

“Christ, honey,” he breathes, “you look so goddamn perfect like this.” His fingertips dig into your asscheeks possessively before one hand snakes its way up your shirt. You expect him to lift it above your head to expose your breasts, but he doesn’t. 

“Y-You can take it off,” you stammer, feeling silly as you say it aloud. 

Eddie shakes his head in refusal. “Next time.” Next time. It’s a promise you hope he’ll keep. “I just love the way you look in this shirt.” And nothing but this shirt, he thinks to himself. 

The friction of your cotton panties on his denim pants is delectable, providing just enough pressure to your aching clit. You’re greedy in your movements but make sure to give him what he needs, too. Your pussy rubs against his clothed cock; Eddie uses the hand on your ass to help guide your hips. 

“Thassit, oh, fuck,” he grunts, teased with the beginnings of an orgasm. “Right there, baby. Ohmygod, I’m gonna cum in my fuckin’ pants.”

“S’okay,” you murmur into his ear, gently biting the lobe, “‘m close, too. So close, holy shit.”

Sweat beads along his upper lip, his groans more needy and guttural. “‘M coming, ‘m coming, ‘m coming.” He babbles pathetically as sticky, wet warmth floods his boxers. You follow his lead, finishing on his somehow still-hard cock. 

The immediate aftermath is filled with panting breaths and sporadic giggles as the pleasure high fades and reality sets in. 

“Did we just—” Eddie starts, eyes wide in disbelief. 

You laugh, resting your forehead on his shoulder. “Mhm. We sure did.”

He rakes a hand through his curls, frizzy from perspiration and activity. “So, um, what do we do now?” There are many unspoken questions woven into it. What does this mean for our friendship? Do we even have a friendship anymore? Was it as good for you as it was for me?

“Well…” You sit up a bit straighter, toying with the chain of his guitar pick necklace. “We can throw your stuff in the wash, and maybe while we’re waiting, we can get started on that next time you’d mentioned earlier?”

Eddie grins, kissing you with a fervor like you’ve never seen. “What are we waiting for?” He tugs off his pants and boxers, unashamed of the way he’s painted them with cum. When he notices you staring, he winks. “‘S a lot, isn’t it? Imagine how much it’ll be when I’m actually inside you.”

It doesn’t take long for either of you to find out.  

--

[miinatozakiii]

tutor perks

park jihyo x fem!reader ; fluff, smut ; pt. 2

synopsis: the kid you’re tutoring has a really sweet, charming hot aunt.

warnings: alcohol ; not proofread so many spelling and grammatical errors (probably) ; mmm smut ; smut; and smut ; praise ; overstimulation ; almost fucking in the fancy bathroom ; reader ruined by jihyo ; men mentioned yuck!! ; food ; jihyo is like seven years older than reader ; mmm anything else i’ve missed ; physics mentioned 😵‍💫

a/n: i need her so bad like

(um ALSO i wrote half of this on my phone (that era was...))

- 

you’re assigned to tutor a high school student, some junior boy named matthew park that’s falling behind in a couple of subjects. the lady at the front office had provided you directions to the library, but still, it took you a few wrong turns and another ask to actually get there. 

walking in, you notice the lively yet quiet ambiance filling the room. there are groups of students studying together, giggling and pushing each other around as they do so. another group seems to be much more focused than the others, all furrowing their brows while examining whatever paper is on the table. 

you scan the room and look for a guy who should be alone, and to the right, you spot just that. 

he’s hunched over a little and his eyes are glued to the phone in his right hand while he spins a pencil with the other hand. the guy has on a green crewneck sweater and the headphones he wears squish some of his dark hair, which is parted messily in the middle. you tap on his desk subtly—he looks up with raised brows and takes off his headphones. 

you shoot a friendly smile and begin to speak, “hi, are you—“ 

“matthew, yeah.” he interrupts, “matt is fine.” 

his voice is pretty low, and something about his energy and mannerisms tell you that he’s some type of athlete. he runs a hand through his hair as you sit down next to him and fixes his posture. at least he has some manners, unlike the type of athletes you had to deal with a few years ago. 

“i’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” you greet, sticking out your hand—which matt takes—and shaking his bigger, rougher one.  

you clear your throat and look at the slightly creased notes on the table accompanied by the spiral notebook and green folder. setting down your own bag on the floor, you ask, “so, what is it that you’re struggling with the most?” 

matt glances at the entrance for a brief moment then looks down at the work in front of him and clenches his jaw, crossing his arms.  

“physics and precalculus.” he simply says, his voice seeming small and ashamed. you glance over towards where he was before, catching a group of five teenagers—all seemingly athletic from the apparel they wear—and start to catch onto his sudden bashful demeanor. 

“alright, i can help you with that.” you assure, “i’ll try to make this quick and do the best i can to help, just let me know what you want me to explain.” 

matt nods, picking up the pencil and huffing. 

- 

after tutoring math and reliving your high school physics trauma, you’re headed out the entrance of the library and trying to find your way to the main doors.  

“wait!” a voice calls out, “y/n, was it?”  

turning around, you stand a few feet away from matt, whose headphones are resting around his neck comfortably. he rubs his neck and then pinches the bridge of his nose before shutting his eyes tightly. 

you tilt your head, wondering what this boy needs; was it some extra notes or help? 

“yes?” 

“i um,” he begins, tensing his jaw and shaking his head. “i don’t know if this is appropriate to ask you since you’re a tutor—and i swear i’m not hitting on you!” he catches himself, groaning after he speaks. “i just, don’t want to be seen getting tutored, it’s embarrassing because i’m… i’m not doing well academically right now.” 

“matt, it’s okay, don’t feel—” 

“stop,” he says bluntly. “look, you were probably in my place a couple of years ago or something, i don’t know. just, i don’t like being seen like this because i used to be better, but my professors and everything…” 

“i get that, we can work it out! i was actually really good at physics and i know how bad it can be, i was there and precalculus is pretty simple to me.” 

“yes and thank you, i just wanted to ask if we could change locations. somewhere that’s not where i go to school.” 

“where were you thinking matt?” you ask, quirking a brow and ignoring the little buzz from your phone that’s in your pocket. 

he sighs and repeats, “before i ask; i’m not hitting on you, i swear to god.”  

“matt if you’re insisting some type of café i’m fine with that, people study there all the-“ 

“no, i’d be recognized there too.” he mumbles. “can you just come over to my house? i’ll even have my aunt texting you to say it’s okay, i don’t know if you need that confirmation or whatever, i mean, i’m a minor and i get that it might be iffy.” 

“oh, i see.” you mutter in response. “i mean, we can do that, just have your aunt text me, yeah?” 

“okay.” he responds, “can we do this thursday? i have a physics test on friday.” 

“that’s fine, i’ll do my best to help you out matt.” 

he smiles gratefully. “thank you y/n.”  

-- 

once you’re out of your car after parking near the curb across the street, you get a real good view of matt’s house and damn, the place is nice. 

it’s pretty big and modern, but not too modern that it’s uncomfortable, it just stands out. 

you walk down the little pathway towards the door, which is illuminated by dimmed, warm lights, and tilt your neck to the side to crack it before knocking. a few moments later, you hear the locks click as they turn and the door opens, matt opens it and he’s wearing some white t-shirt, which is paired with black sweatpants. 

“thank you for coming, and again, i swear i’m not hitting on you.” 

“matt, it would be very illegal for me to do anything like that with you. i get it, seriously.” 

“just making sure.” he says, “come in, my aunt is coming home soon.” 

his aunt had sent you a text asking if you were his tutor, and she had thanked you for offering such assistance to her nephew. the lady—his aunt—seemed sweet. her tone via text and the amusing emojis she used had given you this image of some woman in her 40s or 50s, probably baking cookies and thanking you with a warm hug for helping her dear relative. you’ll meet her later; hopefully, she does end up giving you cookies. 

matt leads you to the dining area and as you make your way there, the aroma of vanilla fills the air. maybe it was the cookies that were waiting for you, or you’re just really hungry and craving something sweet. 

“i have the things i need to study, he gave us this study guide and i have some questions regarding the velocity equations.” he explains, but stops himself in his tracks and mutters an “ah,” before asking, “did you want anything to drink?” 

“no, no.” you dismiss him with a wave of your hand. “let’s get started, shall we?” 

the rhythmic ticking of the clock echoed through the room as you continued to guide matt through the complexities of his physics homework. frustrated groans and muttered curses painted a vivid picture of the challenges he was enduring—in this case, one of the most dreadful subjects ever—and you found yourself helping him whenever you could. 

as the sounds of the front door unlocking reached your ears, both you and matt instinctively turned towards the entrance. matt, eager to get a small break from the terrible page of paper in front of him, leapt up to open the door just as it swung ajar. 

"hey, auntie," he greeted, the familial connection evident in his tone. 

“hi matt, there are some groceries i need you to take in, would you mind helping me out?” 

“no not at all,” he says, then excuses himself to go help out with the groceries. 

the figure that emerged into the room drew your attention like a magnetic force. matt's aunt strode in with an air of authority that commanded immediate respect. your jaw tensed as you observed her approach, an almost instinctive reaction to the oddly powerful aura exuded from her. how crazy it was for a woman who’s just appeared to have you sit up in your seat. 

she was not what you expected—a far cry from the stereotypical image you had of aunts in their 40s or 50s, definitely not as old as you had assumed. instead, she carried an ageless poise, appearing young but undeniably mature. dressed in a black blazer that teased the line between formal and casual, ending provocatively above her knees, she was a vision that held your gaze captive. 

however, it wasn't just the flawless outfit that ensnared your attention. it was the remarkable contours of her face, the sharpness of her cheekbones that had your jaw dropping just barely as you were in your trance. her steps echoed with a strange power, and even in her approach, you couldn't help but feel a sense of intimidation just by existing within her proximity. 

as matt’s aunt neared, her gaze locked onto yours—a gaze that felt both deathly and tremendously allurin — then, she smiled, a shift in demeanor that caught you off guard. the stern, professional aura melted away, replaced by a wonderfully cute smile that seemed to rival her intimidating presence. 

you—caught in a momentary trance—couldn't help but reciprocate with a dorky smile, your hand instinctively moving to fix your hair, as if trying to match the sudden change in atmosphere. what a mess you were for someone’s aunt you’ve just laid your eyes on.  

"ah, you're y/n, matt's tutor, am i correct?" she inquired, her voice sent a ripple of warmth through the room. the cadence of her words held a subtle allure, a tone that rang with confidence and undeniable charm. her voice was a little on the deeper end, but regardless it was hot and you could for sure get used to it. 

you managed to nod, finding your voice despite the sudden whirlwind of emotions. "yes, that's me. nice to meet you, miss park." 

“no need to be so formal hon.” she chuckles, pleased. “you can call me jihyo.” she assures with a smile. jihyo stretches out her hand and you take it, her hands are soft and smaller than yours, and her nails well manicured. “you have nice hands y/n.”  

that is such a crazy statement coming from someone’s beautiful, striking aunt who you’ve met for the first time ever and just now. your cheeks flush and you laugh shyly before responding, “thank you, your hands are um, they’re nice too.” 

after realizing that you’ve been holding this woman’s hand for too long, you pull away and run a hand through your hair again. jihyo smiles at you before walking over to the desk and examining the paper, she sighs and raises her brows. 

“ah, physics, i was never good at that when i was in high school.” 

“yes it’s something a lot of people struggled with in high school, i was lucky to be able to do well in that class.” you shrug, and jihyo looks at you impressed. 

“i see, you must be smart huh? and how old are you sweetheart?” 

your knees almost give up on you after this crazy hot woman just called you sweetheart, yet you manage to respond to her without stuttering or sounding like a fool. “i’m 20.” 

“ah, pretty young huh. you’re in college?” 

“yeah. education major, actually.” 

“how cute.” she responds amusingly, “well, thank you again for teaching my nephew. i’ll be upstairs, just send a text or shout if he’s a hassle. thanks hon.” 

jihyo shoots you a grateful smile before patting you on the shoulder; you might just die right then and there. you gulp lightly and manage to choke out a response, “y-yeah, no problem.” which makes the older woman giggle softly before leaving. 

you have got to get a grip. 

-- 

the woman you’ve interacted with for no more than three minutes surely left a mark with her first impression. now you’re putting more effort into your appearance than you did for that date you had three weeks ago with the girl sarah set you up with. 

you slip into a white graphic baby tee that effortlessly molds around your figure, the perfect balance of snug and comfortable. the tee you were gifted is paired with your beloved thrifted boyfriend jeans, their wash perfectly complements your top and if you were to stretch just a little bit, jihyo would get a glimpse of the line that runs down your tummy. a hint of effortlessness fills the air as you tie up the upper half of your hair, allowing loose strands to gently caress your shoulders and frame your face. light and natural makeup enhances your best features, purposefully done to emphasize your appeal with a touch of ease.  

when you reach the front door of matt’s house, you brush a strand of hair out and pat down the black cardigan you have on before knocking on it three times. the familiar teenage boy opens it up and greets you with a smile, inviting you in.  

everything goes as usual: you situate yourself in a different room this time and matt hands you his assignments. you take your time to give them a good look, and then ask him what he needs help with. this time he needs help with precalculus, and thankfully, you’re pretty good at that too. 

you watch him work on the assignments for a bit and start to get thirsty, and then you realize you’ve forgotten your water bottle on the counter in your small apartment.  

“ah i forgot my bottle… could i get some water?” you ask him, and he nods without looking away from the paper. 

“yeah, the kitchen is down the hall to the right. there’s bottles in the fridge. could you grab me a coke zero?” 

“yeah, thanks, i’ll be quick. just work on these for the time being.” he hums in response to you and continues to write down various messy scribbles while solving some type of math problem he’s been assigned. 

you do as he says: walk down the hall and to the right to enter the familiar kitchen you were near last time and you’re met with the familiar older woman that had you all flustered before. she’s standing by the stove and cooking something up and it smells great. awkwardly, you walk over to the fridge and she turns after catching you in her peripheral. 

she smiles immediately upon meeting your presence. 

“y/n! hi honey, it’s nice to see you.” jihyo greets, “i’ve been wanting to see you again.” 

“you have?” your cheeks flush immediately, and you manage to recompose yourself, clearing your throat before responding,, “it’s nice to see you too..” 

jihyo looks you up and down, eyes pausing for two seconds on the baby tee hugging your figure before meeting your eyes again. her look does things that she wants her hands doing, but that’s for her to know. 

“did you need anything sweetheart?” she asks, raising a brow. her question doesn’t process through your head until a few moments after. you were too busy admiring her from head to toe, taking in her features, the casual outfit she has on—eyes enjoying the view of her cleavage that slightly shows in that black tank top she wears.  

you clear your throat again. 

“oh i was just getting some drinks for matt and i.” you respond, quickly darting your eyes away from her chest.  

the older woman giggles amusingly, “take whatever you’d like from there.” 

“thank you miss— i mean, jihyo. it’s fine really, just thirsty and matt wants a coke zero, haha.” 

“alright~” she says, dragging her response teasingly. “just let me know, ‘kay?”  

“yeah, thanks.” you smile sheepishly and nod, then grab the drinks you almost forgot about before walking away.  

jihyo looks you up and down as you step into the hall, smirking a bit before going back to cook the dinner she’d been preparing.  

when you get back to the room where you had been tutoring, you spot matt, who is still writing down some equation down on his paper. he looks up once he hears you, then smiles after seeing the coca-cola in your hand. 

“here’s your drink.” you smile. 

“thanks.” 

“it’s no problem, your aunt told me to grab as much as i’d like. is she always so… sweet?” 

“i mean, i guess so. she’s pretty laid back with my friends as long as we don’t do too much.” matt opens the can and shakes his head as a small laugh slips out. “she’s definitely more generous with you, i can tell. she asked me about you actually.” 

“she what?” your eyes widen and your head turns. “what did she ask?” 

“nothing too important, just when you’d be over again.” matt shrugs, then his adam’s apple moves up and down whilst his neck muscles tense and relax as he gulps down the carbonated drink. “damn this is fizzy—” he says, then coughs. “fuck.” 

matt leaves you with an awareness of jihyo’s curiousity towards your own self, and now you’re trying to focus on tutoring the kid whilst thinking of his aunt.  

“good job matt, i can see you’re already getting much better. the concepts and formulas seem to be clicking, yeah?” you praise, he nods. matt stretches his arms out and you roll your shoulders back to release some tension. 

after helping him tidy up, you make sure everything is back in your own tote bag that you had brought. matt turns towards the entrance to the room and his eyebrows raise a bit, then you turn and see the same woman. your jaw tenses—lips part slightly too. 

jihyo walks in and the sway of her hips isn’t unnoticeable. she looks at the two of you, eyes lingering on you longer than her own nephew, then beams. “matt, help me set up dinner will you?” 

“mhm, gotchu. what’s for dinner by the way?” 

“steak and pasta, go mix up the pasta would you?” 

“yes aunt hyo.” matt complies, then shoots you a grateful grin before standing up with an exaggerated, tired sigh. he walks past jihyo, leaving the two of you alone. 

your heart beats embarrassingly fast once matt is gone, it thumps so hard in your chest that you’re afraid that jihyo may hear.  

“done for the day?” jihyo questions, walking over to you. 

you gulp. “yeah, just finished actually.” 

“i see, you must be hungry.” then jihyo locks eyes with you, and you genuinely think it might be something more—or maybe you’re delusional—who knows. “stay for dinner.” 

okay maybe it’s something more, or you’re just a desperate, lovesick gay college student that’s borderline head over heels. 

“oh it’s fine, really.” you say it with uncertainty, waving your hands in the air with an awkward smile. “i don’t want to trouble you.” 

“it’d be anything but a trouble y/n.” jihyo counters, “if anything the trouble would be letting a pretty lady like you out my house with an empty stomach.” 

jihyo places her hand on your shoulder, then squeezes it lightly. her eyes have you paralyzed in place, drilling into your pupils and then finding their attention on your lips. jihyo is slightly shorter than you, yet you feel so helpless under than her. an amused smirk plays on her lips and you find yourself clutching your tote bag strap a little tighter. 

“…then i’ll take your offer, thank you.” you nod awkwardly, feeling your cheeks flush. 

jihyo nods, feeling accomplished, then pulls her hand off your shoulder. “i’ll have matt know there’s going to be an extra plate then. come on sweetheart.” 

-- 

now you’re sat at the dining table with jihyo across. she’s grinning and her eyes keep wandering all over you, but most of the time they’re focused on your face. 

matt hands you a plate with steak and alfredo pasta, then some utensils. he places a cup of water down on a coaster and pushes it towards you, then hands his aunt a glass of white wine.  

matt takes a bite of the meal and sighs, pleased with how it satisfies his hunger. jihyo laughs at him whilst he goes on to devour the plate. you follow after him and twirl some of the noodle against your spoon, then stab a piece of steak with your fork. the bite you take is filled with some saltiness, though it’s deliciously savory—just how you like it. 

jihyo smiles. “good?” 

“it’s great, thank you again jihyo.”  

“anytime, i fancy your company.” she responds before taking a bite herself. 

there’s a question brewing in your mind, but you’re second-guessing yourself because it seems a bit rude, well, maybe. jihyo swallows the steak and reaches for her glass again. 

“so it’s just you and matt?” you ask, avoiding eye contact. 

matt turns and raises a brow, then shrugs it off. jihyo simply nods her head. 

“just me and the troublemaker.” she jokes, which earns an eye roll from matt. “he moved here a few years ago, the school over here is excellent for him. great academics, extracurriculars, sports teams…” 

“i see. good for him then.”  

“what about you?” jihyo questions. you look up at her in the middle of chewing down your pasta, rushing to get a response out. 

“sorry, what?” 

“just you? no boyfriend or… significant other?”  

surprisingly, you don’t choke on your food. “oh no, not at the moment.” 

“that’s a shame, and a surprise.” she takes another bite of steak and chews on it in the right side of her cheek, puffing it out a little. “i wonder why no one has made a move, i would’ve if there were a beauty like you around.” 

matt pauses, his brows furrow and he looks at his aunt with some slight concern. “auntie?” 

“i’m only teasing silly, just complimenting,” jihyo says, laughing to ease the tension in the air (though, it doesn’t work. your heart starts racing again and the meal gets harder to finish). “it’s better than whatever you’ve said over the phone to those—”  

matt coughs, then shakes his head. “okay okay, we get it.” he rolls his eyes (again) and shrinks into his seat, making jihyo giggle. you laugh as well and matt scoffs as he pokes at the steak on his plate. 

there’s a sudden buzz that makes the table vibrate slightly. your phone sits next to your glass of water, and you reach for it hastily. due to your clumsy handling, the water topples over, spilling all over shirt—your chest. 

“shit—” you curse and stand up quickly.  

“matt, grab some napkins for y/n.” jihyo orders, quickly walking over to your side of the table. she grabs the napkins from her nephew and hands them to you, then urges you to follow her. she turns to matt and quickly says, “clean up the table, i’ll go help y/n out with her clothes.” 

matt hums in response and you follow jihyo, feeling embarassed from the small scene you’ve made. 

-- 

“i’m really sorry, and really, i could’ve cleaned up on my own—”  

“it’s fine y/n, don’t worry about it.” jihyo assures, leading you to the large master bedroom.  

there’s a king-sized bed in the middle, dimmed lights, and the room screams luxury. jihyo leads you over to the closet and grabs a small towel, then starts to pat down at your chest, making your cheeks burn.  

her hands find their way over to your shoulder to stabilize you, and then she’s shaking her head after trying to dry the spillage on your shirt. “this won’t do, let me get you a shirt. you can take off yours and leave it on the hanger over there.” she says, pointing to the hook. 

“t-thank you.” mentally, you facepalm yourself for sounding so nervous. 

“your cheeks are red,” jihyo giggles. she places her hand on your shoulder, then drags it down to your chest briefly before pulling away. “it’s alright honey, it happens. i’ll get you that shirt.” 

a few minutes later she enters the abnormally large closet again and hands you a gray sweatshirt with some college logo on it.  

“thank you jihyo, i’ll give this back to you when i—” 

“it’s fine, just keep it for pajamas or anything like that. it’s just some old shirt from when i graduated a while ago.” jihyo says. you pray that you look calm and collected, trying to mask your flustered-self with a smile. “i’ll let you change, just come out when you’re done sugar.” 

“yeah, thanks—and sorry.”  

jihyo shakes her head and waves off your apology with her hand. 

-- 

you’re back downstairs in a few minutes—minutes of jihyo (not so) subtly checking you out in her old clothes. 

matt asks if you’re okay, you answer with a nod and a smile. 

“my roommate keeps calling me, i should get going.” is muttered followed by an unnecessary peek into your tote bag, shuffling through to make sure you have everything. “thank you again for everything.” 

jihyo leads you to the door and sends matt up to get ready for school. she flattens out her own clothes, runs a hand through her hair, then watches you slip on your shoes from the front door. 

“you should stay for dinner more often y/n, i enjoyed it.” 

you chuckle awkwardly, then push a strand of hair back. “i enjoyed it too, though i’m sorry for spilling water everywhere.” 

“that’s quite alright, you could always make up for it by staying over. i like your company.”  

looking down at the ground, you smile bashfully and respond, “i’ll consider it. thank you again.”  

“drive safe pretty.” jihyo says, waving goodbye and shutting the door. 

- 

sarah sits on the opposite end of the couch and watches you closely.  

youre hugging your knees to your chest and smiling, making your roommate turn her head in confusion. “why’d you drag me to the couch.” 

“i need to tell you about today. about everything.” 

“make it quick, i have a lecture tomorrow morning for psych.” she sighs, crossing her arms and leaning against the couch. 

“so i’ve been tutoring that kid you know, the high school kid.” you start, and sarah nods as she hums. “yeah so basically i tutor him that one day at his school or whatever, then, he asks me to tutor him at his house.” 

“so he… wants you?” 

“no, absolutely not. plus, that’s like, a case.” you say with a shake of your hand, dismissing hee assumption. “but, speaking of age differences, i went to his house — his aunts house — and i was tutoring him and whatnot. then i hear someone knock on the door and he says it’s his aunt, so im unfazed or whatever because it’s probably this middle aged lady or whatever.” 

“right, so…?” 

“so i was fucking wrong.” you explain, sitting up now. “the most beautiful woman i’ve ever laid eyes on walks in. she’s dressed in work clothes or something, all black, and she looks good.”  

“oh, so you’re gay.” sarah scoffs amusingly, quirking a brow. “am i supposed to be… surprised?” 

“can you just shut the fuck up and listen to me fully for once, please.” 

sarah rolls her eyes. “fine.” 

“okay so she calls me hon, then she says my hands are sweet — and keep in mind, this is the first time i’ve talked to her in person. then she calls me sweetheart?” 

“she’s being nice i think, considering she’s probably older than you. maybe you’re just gay, delusional, and haven’t gotten laid since… months ago?” 

“just because you and your girlfriend do it every time i’m out does not mean you have to shove it down my throat.” you scoff, “anyways, yeah no i thought that too, but then her nephew — the kid in tutoring — he tells me that she’s more generous with me and asks about me. i don’t think that’s being nice.” 

“that might just be curiosity and being nice, y/n.” 

“no hear me out okay,” sarah giggles as she watches you talk all animatedly with your hands moving after every couple of words. “she invited me for dinner — literally wanted me to stay, like insisted — then said i was too pretty to not be taken? and then she was saying that if ‘there were a beauty like you around, i would’ve made a move.’” 

sarah’s eyes widen, then her mouth opens slightly in shock. she leans closer to you, now fully invested knowing that this isn’t just another stretch of your interactions with women.  

“holy shit?” 

“i know.” you say, feeling your cheeks flush just from thinking about it. “and then you called and i spilled water and whatnot, she brought me to her room and—“ 

“you guys fucked?” 

“no!” you immediately say, a little too loud for that matter. “no, no.” you reassure, “though, i’m going to be honest i kind of wish—but that’s besides the point. she helped me out and patted down my tits — well my shirt but who cares, same thing — and then gave me her old sweatshirt. im literally wearing it right now and i remember her checking me out as soon as i changed into them.” 

“oh my god?” 

“yeah, and then you called again for me to come back or whatever and she told me to stay for dinner more often. now i’m here and that’s the end of the story.” 

sarah simply stares at you with wide eyes, her hand covering her slightly opened mouth. you place your hands on your face snd grown, feeling the heat of your cheeks on the skin of your hand. 

“i cant believe someone’s aunt wants you.” 

“i know!”  

“are you going to… sleep with her?” sarah asks, tilting her head. 

you find yourself lost in thought, often drifting into a world where she consumes your every waking moment - both at work and during classes. in these vivid daydreams, your thoughts sometimes stray to a more innocent realm. you envision the possibility of going on a simple date with her, where you can unravel the layers of her personality and just get to know her on a deeper level. because jihyo’s the type of woman that you want to sit down and get to know, that’s for sure.  

but to be honest, most of the time your mind wanders to far more… provocative scenarios. your imagination conjures up images of her completely unveiled, with a tantalizing desire to feel her hands caressing your every contour, leaving you to completely submit to her; to be ruined by jihyo personally. these fantasies consume you, their allure impossible to resist.  

“well, i don’t know.” you answer, pinching the bridge of her nose. “i still have to tutor her nephew.” 

“hmm… then focus on that and then sleeping with his aunt.” sarah suggests, giggling lightly before her phone buzzes. she looks at the screen and sees a text from her girlfriend, then smiles immediately. “speaking of sleeping with people, my girlfriend is picking me up. i’ll be out for the night.” 

you groan, still wanting sarah to listen to you while losing your mind and leave her own comments here and there. it’s almost impossible to get her away from her girlfriend. you’re so jealous and sarah loves to poke at you for being single and insatiable. 

“you’re unbelievable.” 

sarah shrugs, getting up with a cheeky grin. she snickers, “and you need to get laid. good luck with your little milf situation.” 

“she’s not his mom!” 

“same difference.” 

— 

the next time you tutor matt, you never get to talk or see jihyo. matt explains that she’s out for the night, something related to a business trip that he seems to not really care about. 

but you care, and you need to know when she’s back. unfortunately, tutoring comes first and the last thing you want to do is make it obvious that you have a crush on the aunt of the kid you’re tutoring. 

(matt has a little hunch; he notices the stares the both of you give each other when you two think no one is looking. matt is looking and definitely suspicious of how nervous you get around her and how generous his aunt is to you. though, he doesn’t have time to dive deeper in that since another physics test is clouding his brain for the time being.) 

you run into jihyo the day after that session with matt, but not as his house.  

there’s a place near the campus that’s now you and your friends’ signature study and hangout spot. it’s this cozy café and restaurant that the five of you have spent countless hours at either conversing and laughing for hours or losing your mind over whatever classes you guys take. this time, you’re all getting brunch together and debating something small. 

you excuse yourself and get in line to grab a drink since you only purchased a panini, thinking that would satisfy you. you were wrong. so, you stand in line for a bit, not really minding your surroundings while you tap through various instagram stories and scroll mindlessly. a minute later, you feel a tap on your shoulder while you’re halfway through a video your friend had posted. when you turn around you’re met with the face that has you lost in a momentary trance.  

“ah y/n, it’s nice to see you.” jihyo says. 

“oh, jihyo.” you respond, trying to hide your surprise and sudden nervousness. “it’s nice to see you too.” 

oh for sure it’s nice to see her. sunglasses sit on the top of her head, loose strands fall over her face, and the dress she’s wearing under her long coat looks divine. your eyes scan her whole body for a short moment, and then you’re clearing your throat as she starts to speak again. 

“are you here alone?” she asks you, looking you up in down in the process. 

“oh i’m with friends actually, they’re over by the window—“ you point to the group of four laughing together, all invested in the conversation at hand as the afternoon light brightens their smiles. “—we were just getting together and eating brunch.” you explain. 

“i see…” jihyo mumbles, looking over to your friends. she sounds a bit dissapointed, but you could be wrong about that.  

“what are you doing here? i mean, i don’t mean that in a rude way it’s just—“ 

jihyo smiles again, putting her hand on your shoulder as she laughs. “oh honey,” one of many things she calls you that makes your breath go short, “it’s fine, i get what you mean.” she trails down to your bicep, her skin warm on yours. “i was going to grab a drink before work, this is one of my favorite cafes.” 

“what a coincidence, it’s one of mine too.” 

jihyo subtly acknowledges your presence, her gaze gracefully trailing along your figure, delicately fixating on the tantalizing hint of skin peeking through your attire. her probing eyes pause there momentarily, capturing every nuance of the tempting groove down your tummy, accentuated by your low-rise jeans and revealing crop top. the ensemble effortlessly enhances your allure, inducing an irresistible appeal that’s impossible to ignore. as her gaze eventually retreats, it effortlessly returns to meet your own.  

“i suppose we have lots in common.” jihyo notes. 

“yeah,” you breath out, “i guess so.” 

“next in line please!” one of the the cashiers yells out, snapping you out of your daze. you apologize to him and then smile at jihyo before walking over and shuffling for the wallet in your shoulder bag.  

after getting your pistachio latte, you walk back to your friends and they beam at you. setting your bag down, you listen in on the conversation. 

“—and so, as i was saying, he kept making me pay for everything on the first date.” mai scoffs, crossing her arms. she’s a friend from your intro to education, lively and always has something to say. this time, it seems to be quite interesting. “look, i am a 50-50 girl and whatnot, but he asked me out and expects me to pay? i felt like there was a whole beard on my face and my balls dropped or something after paying for him. yeah, never again.” 

you laugh loudly, covering your mouth upon hearing the entertaining story.  

again – similar to just a few minutes ago – there’s a tap on your shoulder. your friends look at the woman behind you before you can, and once you set your look on her; your heart starts to beat again, a blush settling on your cheeks. 

“hey pretty, i was about to leave for work.” jihyo says with a smile, “can we talk for a bit? alone.”  

to your left, another one of your friends raises his eyebrows subtly. just with that small gesture alone, he manages ask without speaking: who’s this woman and why is she calling you pretty? though, you can’t answer him just yet. there’s no way you’d embarrass yourself in front of jihyo. 

you clear your throat and stutter just barely in your response. “hey, hi. um, yeah, sure. excuse me guys, i um, need to talk with her.”  

after sending an apologetic smile and earning various cheeky smiles, you nod at jihyo and find a spot near the window to talk to her. alone. she brushes a strand of hair out of your face and leans back to sit upright in her seat; you try to stay calm 

“i just wanted to ask for a favor, i completely forgot about it until i got a notification from my calendar.” 

“oh, what is it?”  

she looks out the window and sips on her iced drink, then turns back to meet your eyes. “well, i have a work dinner thing, a lot of… men will be there for the most part. i was wondering if you’d accompany me? i’m afraid i’d grow tired of their dull efforts to impress me, but it’s completely fine if you can’t make it.” jihyo says, although her tone near the end suggests that she’d be pretty disappointed with an answer other than yes. “i know it’s a big ask, but i’ve grown quite fond of you. is that ridiculous?” 

quickly, you dismiss her by waving your hands a bit frantically and shaking your head. you assure her, “it’s not ridiculous at all!” unintentionally, the volume of your voice spikes. “i’m actually um, really flattered that you feel that way, seriously. it also wouldn’t be any trouble – the dinner thing – id, um, i would love to accompany you.” 

jihyo finds herself blushing, surprisingly. she sips on the drink before setting it down on the marble counter side, then places her elbows on the table and her eyes smile, then her nose scrunches a bit.  

“right, that’s wonderful.” she says, “come over to my place tomorrow at 5:30 then?” you gulp upon hearing her words – practically an order with that tone and raise of her brow – then nod. she smiles and places her hand on your shoulder again, this time terribly close to the crook of your neck, her thumb brushing against your throat. “good, see you then.” 

“yeah,” you respond, not wanting to leave yet; your friends are waiting for you and jihyo has to go to work, so you begin to stand. “i’ll see you… my friends um, they’re—” 

“oh, yes, sorry for dragging you away—” 

“no!” you shake your hands again, cringing at how loud your voice grew (again). “they’re fine with it and i don’t want you to be late for work. we weren’t doing anything important anyway, just catching up.” 

she giggles and stands up to face you, eyes angled up slightly since she’s an inch or two shorter. she takes her hand off her skin and it feels specifically frigid in that area now that the warmth radiating off her fingers isn’t there, you almost shiver. 

“right, thanks hon. i’ll see you tomorrow yeah? shoot me a text when you get there, you have my number.” 

you nod and she hands her work bag on her shoulder, then starts to walk away – but not before winking at you. you smile, feeling your heart do a flip. 

when you return to your table, your friends are already eyeing you mischievously. mai has her straw sitting on her teeth, giving you that look. your jaw tightens and you smile at them before awkwardly sitting back in the previously empty seat, mentally preparing yourself in those two silent seconds before they all start bombarding you with questions and relentless teasing. 

- 

you arrived at jihyo’s house ten minutes early, a little earlier than you’d expected since the traffic wasn’t as bad. you walk down the small path leading to the steps, then up those three steps and onto the doormat. before you can even knock, the door opens and matt nearly bumps into you. 

he apologizes immediately, then looks at you with scrunched brows. 

“were we supposed to tutor today?” he asks, scratching his head with a finger. “if we were, sorry but i’ve got plans.” he says, nudging his head forward, making you turn around to see a honda civic parked on the street across. the windows are rolled down, revealing another guy that looks around his age in the drivers seat, another in the passengers side that you can barely see, and two girls in the back.  

“oh, no. jihyo called me over actually, not for you.” 

matt raises his brows, then his body relaxes. “oh.” 

“yeah, didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“no it’s… fine.” he assures, looking at you skeptically. “have fun with… my aunt? um, whatever you two are… doing. i’m staying at a friends house tonight so…” 

“yeah, have fun.” you respond awkwardly, looking up at him as he observes you for a few seconds longer. the makeup on your face is slightly heavier than usual – not that it’s a bad thing, in fact he wouldn’t have even noticed if it weren’t for the nice dress you were wearing. quite odd, he figures, but it’s not his business. he shrugs his shoulders and forgets about it, waving at you before he leaves, running over to the black honda civic that’s playing music at a volume so loud that you can hear it from the door. 

you forget about the whole encounter for a moment, instead redirecting your attention to the opened door in front of you. stepping inside, you get a whiff of the familiar lavender scent that fills the house, then close the door behind you. the house is silent until you send jihyo a text, and she responds a few seconds later by yelling from upstairs. 

“y/n! come upstairs darling!”  

you freeze in place, suddenly feeling intimidated for no reason. nonetheless, you walk on over to the stairs, then up to jihyo’s room. 

as you enter the room, her image captivates your attention in the mirror. the black dress she has on a pulls you towards her, reciprocating the intense attraction you both feel. the attraction that’s most definitely there, but jihyo’s a tease and you’re cautious. she likes that she has you wrapped around her finger. it’s amusing how easily flustered you get around her. 

the sight of her is nothing short of exquisite, and your gaze fixates on the enticing curve of her hips, igniting a subtle pulse in between your legs hunger that has you subconsciously nibbling on your lip. glancing further upwards, you indulge in the sight of her exposed shoulders, showcased gracefully in the mirror's reflection. they exude a provoking attraction, tempting you to succumb to your countless daydreams. you want to explore the softness of her skin, want to leave indelible marks on her delicate collarbones. 

in the midst of your blatant stare, her eyes lock with yours through the mirror, catching you in the act of unabashedly admiring her. she laughs, then she turns around to face you, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips. 

“like what you see?” she teases you, making your cheeks burn.  

you clear your throat and pretend to busy yourself by looking into your bag, but manage to respond politely, “i um—sorry. matt let me in, he just left.” 

she starts to step towards you, and you feel yourself gulp unintentionally.  

“mhm, he told me about the sleepover.” she says, then stands inches away from you. using her pointer and thumb, she tilts your chin up and away from the bag hung on your shoulder, intensely gazing at you for a moment before speaking again. “you look remarkable.” 

your breath hitches as you look at her, eyes drilling into yours while you try to stay calm. “t-thank you.” 

she eyes you for a while longer before nodding, then smiles at you like she didn’t just eye fuck you. 

“let’s get going, there’s good parking if we arrive early. less of a hassle for us.” 

all you can do is hum and follow her, afraid of embarrassing yourself from how flustered and inaudible you are. 

- 

the car ride consisted of you trying to not stare at her sharp, defined features the whole time. it was very difficult to not glance here and there, a few times you had your eyes glued on her godly cheekbones and sometimes you even eyed the way her bones would pop out when she turned the wheel.  

during the car ride, you found it increasingly challenging to avert your gaze from her captivating, exquisitely sculpted features. the temptation to steal a glimpse here and there proved irresistible, as her godly cheekbones held your attention.  

at times, you couldn't help but be captivated by the protrusion of her bones as she maneuvered the steering wheel. after eyeing it for too long, jihyo caught you in her peripheral and turned to face you – the light was red anyway – then smiled cheekily. she moved her hand towards your thigh, placing it dangerously close to the dampening area in between your legs. 

“you alright lovely? you seem a little tense.” jihyo asks, rubbing your thigh with her thumb just barely. “something on your mind?” 

you fought back a low whimper before you respond, “i’m fine, thanks.” you try, voice small as she adds more pressure to your skin. you try your best to remain calm and composed, but god it’s so hard when she’s touching you there and like that. “it’s not important, i was just daydreaming.” 

(your daydreaming will be increasingly explicit from now on.) 

the light turns green and jihyo puts her hand back on the wheel as she turns away from you, redirecting her attention on the road. your jaw tenses and you shift in the seat a little, thighs closing and rubbing together. 

jihyo pretends not to notice and fights back a smirk. 

-- 

the two of you would enter the restaurant together with jihyo linking your arms and smiling at you like she didn’t just make you ten times hornier than you already are daily. 

as you enter, you are immediately mesmerized by the extraordinary interior. the lighting casts an enchanting, almost mystical ambiance, wrapping the space in an intimate aura. the arrangement of tables is meticulously planned, each one positioned with precision and attention to detail. the sheer beauty of the place is breathtaking, leaving you in awe. it’s evident that reservations at this place come with a hefty price tag, most definitely surpassing the cost of more than half of your apartment's monthly rent; maybe almost as much as what you and sarah pay together.  

jihyo leans in closer to your ear, lips brushing against your skin and it sends a shiver down your spine. “come lovely, let’s find our seats.” she says, then walks you over with her to the man with slicked back hair and an impossibly perfect posture. he gives you the table number and holds his arm out in the direction of it, then jihyo thanks him with that weirdly arousing voice she has and tugs on your arm lightly. 

there are other men that are scattered around the dining area, they all notice jihyo as soon as she steps in – who wouldn’t? 

she’s stone faced as she walks with you and towards the table, her stern expression unfazed by the stares from men that aren’t accompanied by their respective lovers. though, maybe those with their own lover took a small glimpse. 

you feel a little small, most eyes are on jihyo though a good amount also land on you. it seems that the two of you have taken the attention of the majority, which freaks you much as much as it flatters you. jihyo seems to notice the attention on you too, then subtly brings you closer to her.  

jihyo sits down first and flattens out her outfit before she fixes her hair, then pats down the seat next to her. you sit down and she brings your chair a little closer before leaning towards your ear and speaking again. 

“thank you for coming, i wouldn’t have been able to make it to the table this quickly if it weren’t for you.” 

you hum, then ask, “why is that?” 

“the men here are shameless, they hit on me dinner after dinner.” jihyo sighs, then lowers her voice when she says, “i guess they were too distracted by you. you’re a sight worth skipping dinner for.” 

you gulp, laughing off her suggestive compliment before boldly responding, “i think most would much rather… indulge in you. i get their standpoint, though.”  

as you begin to fix the delicate fabric of your dress, a subtle flicker of surprise dances within jihyo's widened eyes. with her grip on her handbag growing tighter, her gaze shifts towards you, a newfound intensity in her look. you turn to look right back in her eyes, almost challenging her with this new confidence of yours. it’s in this moment that the unspoken connection seems to deepen, the tension drawing you two closer. the allure she now feels towards you, layered with a hint of curiosity and urge to undress you, is palpable yet carefully restrained. 

three more men greet jihyo formally and she smiles forcefully at them before they take their seats and indulge in their own conversation. the menus are handed once everyone settles in and everyone glances at the options. the selection intimidates you; half the dishes incorporate foreign words that you had never heard of.  

jihyo places her hand on your thigh again, this time higher than before. she looks at you with those drilling brown eyes and squeezes a bit.  

“know what you’d like?” 

your breath shakes reluctantly, but you respond with a leveled tone. “yeah, the chicken chasseur.” there’s a ninety percent chance you butchered that pronunciation, half of the reason was because you never really paid attention in your french three class your junior year of high school, and the other half was because jihyo’s fingers started tracing patterns into the flesh of your thigh. 

“right, the chasseur,” she says teasingly, pronouncing it correctly. “that’s one of my favorites.” 

“i see, i’ll definitely like it then.” 

“mhm.”  

the waiter comes by – the same guy with the slicked back hair – he introduces himself in a deep, formal tone. it catches you off guard that his name is so simple: michael. he takes all of your orders, then collects each menu. as soon as he leaves, one of the men at the table attempt to strike up some small talk with jihyo, and she responds with blunt, uninterested answers. the men are left intimidated and out of luck, then try to succeed in initiating a meaningful conversation with you. 

“what was your name dear?” one says, his features implying that he’s not too far off from how old your parents are.  

hesitantly, you respond with a polite “y/n,” before smiling respectfully. he narrows his eyes and smirks before glancing down, it leaves you uneasy. jihyo clears her throat and sends daggers at him with her glare. 

“how are you and your wife, samuel?” she questions, quirking a brow before your waiter arrives with a bottle of white and red wine. the man who’d bee blatantly chekcing out your chest area grimaces, then fakes a smile. 

“we’re doing fine.” he says a little sternly, then halts his attempts at socializing with you. 

you send jihyo a thankful glance, she responds with a grin before swirling the white wine in her glass and giving a sip, then sips. 

“this is good, have some dear.” she says, urging you with a tilt of her head to try some of the identical wine in your own glass. “do you like wine?” 

“kind of, i mean, i never really indulge...” your response gives you a quick flashback of the various cheap selections of alcoholic drinks you’ve downed at house parties you’d attend here and there. you grab your glass and copy what jihyo does – you don’t really know how to sip on wine without it looking like you can’t even afford three sips – then raise your brows in surprise once you get a taste. it's sharp and fruity, much richer than the past drinks you’ve had. 

“good?” jihyo says amusingly, observing your expression. 

“it’s wonderful.” 

she grins at you, then gances around the table hastily. two of the men continue to glance over even as they talk withe ach other, it seems that you two just can’t escape the attention. the appetizers arrive a minute later and the two of you indulge, unable to create any small talk or anything like that with your company. jihyo decides she’s craving a different type of appetizer as soon as she sees you wipe your lip subtly. 

“come with me to the restroom, the main courses won’t be out for a little while.” jihyo insists, then looks around at the men busy with their bread, butter, and various other appetizers that sound too complicated for how they look. “besides, i'd rather be alone with you than surrounded by them for the time being.” 

once again, a tremor of anticipation seeps through you, your breath quivers with a mix of nerves and eagerness. jihyo just get’s bolder by the second. 

although it’s a simple trip to the restroom – a countless number of times you and your friends have scurried off to the comofrting ‘sanctuary’ of the girls’ room for meaningless conversations and minuscule touches of makeup – yet, with jihyo accompanying you now instead of your stupid best friends, your mind is propelled into an intricate labyrinth of scenarios, infused with explicit scenarios that jihyo stars in.  

- 

jihyo gracefully positions herself before the strangely exquisite mirror, which is not only unreasonably large and fancy, but it also manages to delicately enhance her plump lips after applying a fresh coat of lipstick. as she caresses her captivating pout, you become mesmerized by the subtle dance of her lips, gently gliding against each other like silk. she releases her pursed lips with a faint “pop” sound before she looks at you through the mirror. 

“daydreaming again?” jihyo asks. you shake your head and walk over to the sink next to her before fixing your hair for no apparent reason. a smirk tugs at her lip sbefore she turns so that her back is facing you. “zip up my dress for me? seems to have gone loose.” 

without a word, you move your hands over to deftly maneurver the zipper along the length of her dress. the entire tableau unfolds so quickly, though there’s an unexpected intamacy that lingers in the air, seeming slightly out of place but it’s also undeniably enticing. your hold your breath unknowingly. 

“you know y/n,” jihyo starts, your hands still on the zipper. “you’re so easy to rile up, it’s cute.” 

“what?” you respond with disbelief, pretending that her statement isn’t the turth. she turns around and tilts her head, eyes narrowing as she draws her attention down to your lips – now parted – then brings a thumb to graze the bottom lip. 

“c’mon baby, think i didn’t notice how you were in the car?” she chuckles, now moving her fingers down to your chin and moving and pushing down on your chin to tilt your head down just barely. “staring at my chest and all of me so clearly in my own house... darling, do you think i’m a fool?” 

you gulp, her eyes peering into yours and waiting for an answer. you’re absolutely dumbfounded, cheeks burning violently. 

“i’m sorry i didn’t mean to--” 

“oh honey, i'm not against it.” she assures, smiling at you and bringer her hand down to play with the dainty necklace around you rneck. “if anything, i want you just as much as you seem to crave me.” 

“i--” 

she cuts you off, pressing a chaste peck to your lips. when she pulls away, you subconciously lean forward to catch her lips again, whining lowly. jihyo giggles softly before putting her thumb against your lips, adding pressure to halt your eagerness. 

“gosh, you’re adorable.” jihyo says, “i could just ruin your pretty little self right here.” 

“jihyo, please” 

she laughs, pleased, raising her brows and smirking at this new, desperate y/n she’s brought to the surface.  

“tell me how much you want me and i'll let you have more, can you do that?” 

your cheeks are on fire and so are your ears. jihyo pulls away further so she can fully see your face, stroking her knuckles down the curve of your cheek. you swallow shallowly before opening your mouth to speak, but hesitate.  

“c’mon baby, use your words for me. you can do that, can’t you?” 

“yes, yeah,” you sigh, trying to keep your voice stable. jihyo smiles, then presses a haste kiss to your jaw. your breath out shakily, bringing a hand to jihyo’s forearm.  

this has to be a dream, there’s no way matt’s aunt is this close to you – and like this. jihyo's pressing kisses down your jawline and neck, nibbling softly and eliciting sharp breaths. everything feels unreal, it’s so unexpected and you don’t know what to do while she brings a knee in between your legs. 

“i’m going to stop if you don’t tell me what you want pretty girl.” 

you sigh, almost moaning at the way her voice bounces off your skin.  

“someone’s going to walk in...” you mumble, placing your hand on her waist. 

“isn’t that part of the thrill?” jihyo asks, “tell me what you want.” 

“kiss me, please jihyo.” 

“that all?” 

of course it’s not all, you want to be pushed to the point of tears and incoherent sobs – but not here, not now. you can only groan at the untimely situation, wanting jihyo to take your time with you someplace less unorthodox. 

“when we go back... i want you to... do more.” you mumble shyly, watching jihyo move away from your neck so that she’s inches away from your face. her lips curl up into a mischievous smile as she twirls your hair. 

“i’ll take it easy on you for now,” jihyo chuckles, “come here.” 

without hesitation you lean forward, messily and eagerly meeting jihyo’s lips again. the two of you get used to everything and ease into each other’s contact, jihyo leading the way. she tugs on your bottom lip gently and you gasp, which gives her the chance to slide her tongue in and explore your mouth. 

you’ve madeout with girls countless times, but it’s always been messy, rushed, and the only thing you could taste and smell was cheap aochol. your past experiences have been nothing like what’s happening right now. 

you can taste the hints of fruit and slight vanilla in that expensive white wine from earlier, it’s even better when you get to taste it off of jihyo. she tastes divine. she’s so precise and skilled with her tongue and lips, immediately adjusting to the pace of the moment and ultimately leaving your knees weak. jihyo's fucking skilled, she knows what she’s doing and everything feels so goddamn euphoric. 

she pushes you against the marble of the sink area and you moan into her mouth when she squeezes your ass, making her smirk against your lips cheekily. you’re like a puppet in her control, and she knows just the right movements and subtle touches to get you going. 

jihyo pulls away suddenly and you whine, trying to pull her back. she holds you in place firmly, lingering near your lips and chuckling against them.  

“why-- why did you stop?” you ask desperately, pathetically pinching the fabric of her dress tighter.  

“pretty girl, you’ve forgotten where we are haven’t you? the main course might be out.” 

“but jihyo--” 

“listen,” she says sternly, sending a shiver down your spine. a soft smile is displayed, which soothes your nerves after witnessing it. jihyo tucks your hair behind her ear. “let’s make a deal, how about that?” 

“okay,” 

“if you can...” she starts, twirling the hair on the nape of your neck. “...be good for me and stay patient, then i'll reward you when we get back to the house. can you be good for me pretty?” 

a lump forms in your throat, making it difficult to respond. you try your best to do so anyway. 

“mhm, i can.” 

“good. i'd love to ruin you right here, don’t get me wrong, but there’s other guests that expect me to be present.” 

fuck those other guests, you need to take her right here and right now. she can’t just rile you up like this, give you the best makeout session of your life and then end it so abruptly. regardless, she possesses an innate power - she's jihyo. you're completely enthralled and under her control anyway, whether you know it or not. 

she lets out a cold, menacing chuckle and flashes you a provocative grin. she delicately reshapes your disheveled hair and then tends to her own cascade flowing down. you can feel the lingering presnce of her own lips on yours -- slightly swollen and vividly tinted -- and although jihyo remains unfazed by the evidence of her artistry, it's clear she revels in your visible discomposure. if others were to connect the dots, she couldn't care less; if anything, she welcomes it. she's evil, and all you want is more of her. 

so you’ll have to behave for the time being, because who knows what she’s capable of. 

- 

“ah, you’re back park. the food got here ten minutes ago.” samuel says, raising a brow in suspicion.  

the men’s plates are already half eaten, and then there’s two plates that are left untouched on the table. jihyo eyes you, raising her brow before elegantly reaching for her utensils. 

she clears her throat and lies, “lady troubles.” which earns a flush on each of the men’s faces, and a brief apology from samuel. 

the remainder of the dinner becomes utterly unbearable. it’s not just the men engaging in dumb, uninteresting conversations -- which require you to perform an artificial smile, direct focus, and provide meaningless responses - but underneath the table, jihyo teases you. her delicate hand grazes your thigh intermittently. the whole thing is excruciating, causing an overwhelming surge of sexual frustration that genuinely throbs between your legs. the only thing you crave right now is her touch again; you don’t know how many more times you can utter “oh how interesting,” before exploding completely. 

an hour passes and it’s finally time for jihyo to bid her farewells, finally. 

the farewells’ had to take at least ten minutes, since jihyo’s pretty high up there in whatever she does. you never really knew, but it wasn’t your place to ask. 

jihyo unlocks her black porsche, which is remarkably eye-catching, though not as much as the driver. you get in the passenger's side and she’s already inside turning the engine on, one hand on the stick. she backs up smoothly, then gets out of the parking lot quickly. 

the car ride is almost silent for three-quarters, the only thing that pokes at the tension is jihyo’s hand on your thigh. she's driving one handed, it’s a common skill – you drive one handed here and there – but when jihyo does it, your thighs try to ease whatever is going on in between. 

“did you enjoy the meal?” jihyo asks, eyes on the road. 

“yeah, it was great.” 

“mhm,” she hums, then squeezes your flesh a bit. “how was the dessert? did it suit your tastes?” 

you let out a shallow breath, “yeah.” 

“good.” jihyo says, then smiles to herself. “we’re almost home.” 

you can only hum in response, growing impatient. 

jihyo clicks a button and the garage door opens, then drives in slowly. she has to be doing this on purpose, just to test you. you’re going to endure the aching, because at the end of the rainbow there’s always gold, and you’re her good girl. 

when you enter the house, it’s completely dark, then jihyo turns on the light and you have to fight the urge to kiss her again. 

“come,” she orders, turning to walk towards the stairs to the second floor. she's swaying her hips a little on purpose, she must be – or you’re just horny, or both. 

finally, after what seemed like centuries, you make it to her room. she closes the door behind you as you walk in. 

“sit down on the bed for me.” you do as you’re told wihtout hesitation, sitting down on the soft mattress of the king sized bed. the sheets are perfectly set on the bed, so are the blankets and pillows, but something tells you that it won’t be like that by the end of this night. “good girl.” 

she glides towards you, delicately raising your chin and fixing her gaze upon you, like an artist admiring a masterpiece. she revels in the sight of your flushed cheeks, the gentle parting of your lips, and the slight up turn of your brows, all traits that make this vulnerable rendition of you enticingly irresistible. her eyes grow dark, consumed by a yearning that she has now ardently realized; this is what she’s been wanting ever since she first laid eyes on you. 

“clothes off for me sweetheart.” immediately, you start to slip yourself out of the dress. jihyo decides to be generous, helping you out a bit since she’s quite eager herself.  

now, you find yourself perched delicately on the edge of her bed, goosebumps on your skin even as warmth envelops you. you’re nearly exposed, clad only in delicate undergarments that hold jihyo's gaze captive. a sigh escapes her lips, swiftly followed by a mischievous smirk, a telltale sign of her satisfaction.  

jihyo's going to have the meal of her life, nothing she had for dinner that night would ever compare to you. she hasn’t even gotten a taste of your arousal yet, but she already knows. 

“you’re beautiful,” she mutters before closing the distance, kissing you on the lips. you sink into all of it: the hand on your cheek, the knee shifting in between your legs, and simply her touch.  

she maneuvers your body onto the bed, positioning herself on top, ensnaring your legs with her own. with an air of urgency, she kisses you harshly, whisking away the very essence of oxygen from your lungs. she pulls away to see you all hot and heavy, watching the desperate rise and fall of your chest while your eyes meet hers in a gaze brimming with insatiable lust.  

“up,” she mutters, to which to respond by propping yourself on your elbows. she skillfully works away at the clasp of your bra, unclipping it and throwing the garment some place off the bed. “god, you’re so beautiful, you know?” jihyo says before fastening her lips on your neck, sucking violently. 

as your voice becomes stifled, attempting to form words proves worthless under jihyo's intimate touch. she delicately explores your body, her lips grazing your neck, causing shivers to cascade down your spine. the symphony of your helpless moans resonates wonderfully, she just wants every ounce of pleasure you can offer, greedy for all of you. 

“f-fuck, oh my god...” you groan helplessly, squirming under jihyo as her mouth starts to tend to your tits. your hand lands in her hair, gripping tightly as her tongue swirls around your perked up bud. her tongue was great in your mouht, but holy shit it’s ten times better when pushing you near your climax. she hasn’t even touched the ache in between in your legs and you feel like you could cum right then and there. 

jihyo gets up and looks down on you like a predator would with its prey, eyeing your vulnerable, exposed body that she’s ravenous for. there are marks along your neck and chest, jihyo’s artwork looking better than anything a museum could hold. 

she still has her dress on, though it swiftly finds the floor in a few moments. your gaze becomes fixed upon her, witnessing a new prize the further the dress drops down. in the wake of this unveiling, she stands before you, clad only in undergarments—pricey, hot looking ones. your eyes fixate upon her chest and the sight of her tits leaves you wide eyed. the alluring contours of her abdomen draw your attention next, effortlessly accentuating her absolutely unreal, fit body. she leans back slightly and her ass catches your attention, rendering you speechless. everything about her is divine and you find yourself completely engulfed in desire.  

all of this is so unreal and you figure it has to be one of those dreams that gets cut off by the alarm for your morning classes; but no, this is real, it’s especially real as jihyo slides her hand down from the top of your chest to just above your waist. her fingers tease the fabric covering your cunt, tantalizingly grazing it. 

“want me inside baby?” jihyo asks, subtly sticking her fingers under the edges of the fabric. you nod desperately, which makes jihyo laugh. “gosh you’re so wet honey, need me that badly?” she teases, and you can only respond with a weak hum. 

she slides off your panties quickly, you whimper pathetically in response her skin encounters wetness. 

her fingers glide slowly along your folds, easily moving up and down with how aroused you are. she brings her fingers back to her lips, getting a faint taste as your back subconciously arches against the mattress.  

“want me inside?” 

“please.” 

“beg harder.” jihyo chuckles, moving her fingers back to your pussy and teasing you carelessly as she lightly slides up and down the damp folds.“i won’t let you get it that easy. if you want something i want to hear you say it, sugar.” 

you whine, breathing out through your parted lips.  

“please, i need your fingers inside jihyo,” you sigh, voice all nasally and airy. “i want you to fuck me how you want, just make me cum please, you can have your way with me i don’t care. fuck, i'm all yours.” 

“perfect.” she says, then harshly pushes two fingers into your dripping cunt. your head shoots back into the pillow it’s on and your fingers grip the sheets tightly, the curse you cry out practically echoes throughout the room.  

she pounds into you with those slender fingers, maneuvering skillfully inside and out, curving at the right spots and leaving you breathless. tears form at the corners of your eyes, her other hand holds you down, pushing down on the middle of your torso to keep you from squirming so much. 

the amount of pressure she adds to your clit occasionally renders you weak, you’re a moaning, squirming hot mess and jihyo has never been this turned on in years. 

an indescribable sound escapes your lips, a melodic symphony of affirmation and inclination. jihyo's fingers plunge in and out, in and out – delving deeper into the depths of your core with each intoxicating thrust. she retreats momentarily before venturing even further, introducing a third digit into the hypnotic rhythm.  

i'm fucked. 

there was this sensation of being utterly reinvigorated, inside and out, in the most euphoric way that only your moans could describe. you've never been fucked this good, seriously, you can’t remember the last time you’ve been this turned on and goddamn submissive. it's insane how quick and easy jihyo managed to do it. 

the knot in your stomach seems tighter and you’re about to find out just how goddamn well it feels to come undone because of park fucking jihyo. matt's aunt. 

“f-fuck i'm, hnnh i'm so close--” you whimper, voice dying down in your throat, “p-please,”  

“god you’re so beautiful,” jihyo says right before hitting your clit with her palm as she pushes into you. then, with a stronger arch and near sob, you tighten around her fingers and grip the sheets tightly, clinging on for dear life as you reach your high.  

jihyo pulls her fingers out and massages your clit lightly, still stimulating you as you recover. your legs are shaking, still, and your ribs are exposed as you lay there and breathe heavily.  

“be a good girl for me, y/n, you can do that. you will.” jihyo says before slamming into you again with three digits, making you gasp from surprise and pleasure. you've barely had time to recover, and yet jihyo is torturing you yet again. 

it feels like your pussy is being torn to shreds, you can hear the “squelch” and clap with every point of contact. 

you try to say something – exactly what, jihyo doesn’t know or minds because she’s too infatueted with every jolt and twitch of your body – and then you let out another loud cry that sounds something like “fuck,” before your body goes limp, twitching every now and then.  

she pulls her hand out – dampened with your clear arousal – and gets a taste of her middle and pointer finger. she drags her fingertips up along your torso -- sending a shiver down your spine – then brings her damp fingers to your mouth. 

“open.” 

without hesitation, you comply, tasting your own arousal off her skin by swirling your tongue messily. your eyes lock with hers before you suck, going down to the base of where her fingers connect and sliding up until you get all of your arousal off. 

“good girl.” 

she slides down your body, now she’s facing your cunt directly. you shiver in anticipation, a little scared but for the most part turned on one hundred times more than ever. she presses a sweet kiss to your pussy – quite different from how ruthless she was earlier – before she indulges, making you press the back of your hand against your forehead. 

god her tongue, it’s like it’s made to leave girls like you fighting for air. she holds your thighs, pressing her fingers into your flesh as she absolutely devours you. it's not too long before you feel that same knot in your stomach, and this time to leave you screaming she simply flattens her tongue against your sensitivity and sucks on your clit harshly. 

there's tears on your cheeks now, and more start to trail down as jihyo starts to fuck you dumb again. whatever is leaving your mouth is incoherent, practically gibberish as you squirm around. she forcefully spreads your thighs apart – which says a lot about her stretngth considering how you’re getting fucked into oblivion – keeping oyu in place even as you start to turn your body and roll onto your side desperately.  

“you taste so, mmh, good.” jihyo mumbles, “fuck, this is better than the dessert we had.” 

you can barely comprehend what she’s saying because your minds so goddamn foggy and you’re literally sobbing from how overwhelming everything is. but it feels so good, if she stopped you’d be crying for a different reason rather than pleasure. 

jihyo feels your thighs shake beside her head, then feels a hand on her head gripping her hair tightly and pushing down against your cunt before the trembling stops. the cry you let out stops before it leaves your mouth, so you cum with an airy, choked out sob.  

jihyo's gaze fixates upon your pulsing, swollen cunt – dripping with your sweet arousal. she rises to her knees, gracefully straddling you, drawing her attention to the rise and fall of your chest. your disheveled hair frames your features, adorned with a rosy flush and the remnants of tears. a soft smile dances upon her lips, a testament to the mess she’s made. 

jihyo falls down to your tummy, scattering feathery kisses. she ascends to your chest, your neck, and at last, your lips. you kiss her sloppily, weakly reaching to cup her cheek while she traps your top lip between both of hers. she pulls away and fixes up your hair, then rubs her thumb along your tear stained skin. 

“you did so good for me baby,” she assures, watching you sniffle. “are you alright?” 

“yeah.” you mumble weakly, smiling softly at her. “i just, need to relax.” you chuckle softly before jihyo pecks your lips again. 

“i’ll help you clean up, stay here pretty.” jihyo says, rubbing your rib with her thumb softly. 

-- 

the two of you wake up an hour before lunch the next morning. jihyo rubs your thigh with her hand, massaging it to reduce the soreness. she insists that you two get up since matt is coming over in a few hours and it takes a while for you to get down the stairs without falling – jihyo did a great job, your legs are wobbly and aching– but nonetheless you make it downstairs to the kitchen. 

jihyo lets you set your head on your cross arms over the counter since you’re so drowsy, she laughs and presses a kiss before fetching ingredients for lunch. you watch her with tired eyes; her muscles flex and tense as she assembles the ingredients for the sandwiches, leaving you stupidly mesmerized. 

you get up and stretch your arms out, then walk over to the older woman. a short giggle leaves your lips as you wrap your hands around jihyo’s waist, she laughs wholeheartedly. 

“did you need something?” 

you kiss her head and linger before responding, “no, you just looked good from the back.” 

“i have to cook lunch, matt is coming home in an hour.” jihyo says, turning to face you, lips inches away from yours.  

as you carefully adjust the stovetop temperature to a low, your gaze lands on jihyo, prompting a mischievous smile to play upon your lips. your hands rest on her waist, you turn her body to face you, drawing her nearer with a subtle bite of your lip. jihyo rolls her eyes, a familiar exchange between you both, before your lips meet, you smile into it as you always do. 

jihyo guides you towards the kitchen island, never relenting on the heat of her kisses. an involuntary groan escapes your lips as she playfully bites your lower lip, igniting subtle throbbing sensations in you. her lips, feather-light, wander along your jawline, slowly tracing the curves of your face like a breeze meeting petals of a flower.  

mindful of your pleasure, you tilt your head back, granting her unrestricted access. her tongue traces your sensitive skin, a captivating and sensuous touch that sends shivers down your spine. jihyo has this power of leaving you breathless in seconds. in the moments between kisses, delightful giggles escape jihyo's lips. 

“you’re such a--” another kiss to your jaw, “--tease.” jihyo says unbelievably.  

“and you’re the one who’s ah- enjoying this.” 

jihyo squeezes your ass gently before kissing your lips again, backing you into the marble of the counter and placing her hands on the edge as she smiles into you. 

lost in pleasure and eagerness, the two of oyu fail to hear the sound of the door being unlocked, opened, and then closed. jihyo's hand slides just barely under your shirt, tickling your ribcage with the brush of her fingers. you wrap your arms around her neck and pull her closer, turning your head a little more to get a better taste, to get more of jihyo. 

“um, y/n?” a voice interrupts the two of you, and it’s too familiar.  

it unfolds like a movie scene; you and jihyo turn to find matt standing there, gripping a backpack strap tightly, his visage a mix of appalled and perplexed. in a rush of apprehension, both of you instinctively release each other, striving to create as much distance as possible while smoothing down stray strands of hair and meticulously adjusting wrinkled garments. 

“matt,” jihyo says, trying to recompose herself—but the blush on her cheeks doesn’t die down whatsoever. “you’re home early. i thought you were coming back at 1?” 

“yeah...” he says awkwardly, embarassed and flushed as he tries to avoid any eye contact. “i was just going to say hi and um, work on homework.” 

“alright, i was just making dinner with--” jihyo clears her throat, “y/n.” 

matt looks between the two of you, narrowing his eyes and sighing.  

“how long have you two been... doing this?” 

you and jihyo exchange a look before you decide to speak up this time, “let’s all sit down at the table and talk about this, how about that?” 

now, you’re trying to form the words to explain that you’ve fucked some kid's aunt the night before, and jihyo’s trying to do properly conjure up a sentence that explains the marks on your neck. 

[asbealthgn]

wrote this goofy thing as an expansion of this post

It’s very surprising when the door to Eddie’s trailer opens and Eddie is standing there with flowers.

It’s even more surprising when he says, “Happy one month!” with a big grin.

Steve looks back and forth between Eddie and the flowers—wildflowers by the look of them, probably picked around the edges of the trailer park. “Uh, one month of what?”

Eddie gives him an uncertain smile like he’s not sure if Steve’s being serious or not. “Of our relationship,” he says, the last syllable tilting up almost like a question.

Huh. Kind of weird, but at the start of summer Steve and Robin had an ice cream party to celebrate the year anniversary of when they started at Scoops together. So it’s not like this is completely unheard of. Except—

“You and I have been friends for longer than a month,” Steve says, “It’s been like—” he tries to count the months since spring break in his head “—at least four? Unless you don’t count when you were unconscious in the hospital, but that was only a couple weeks, so—”

“I mean one month of our relationship,” Eddie says, putting emphasis on the word. And now his eyebrows are drawn together. Face concerned. And Steve is clearly missing something here.

Did something significant happen a month ago? Some moment where they moved from friends to best friends or something? It was probably about a month or so ago the first time Steve spent the night at Eddie’s trailer, but that wasn’t a huge deal. Steve has spent the night at the Byers’ house before and it’s not like he and Jonathan are breaking out the balloons to commemorate it. 

Steve feels guilty, because clearly there’s something that Eddie thinks he should know that he doesn’t. He doesn’t like this nervous look on Eddie’s face. Steve tries to think like Nancy, tries to put the clues together. But he’s not Nancy. So he’s lost. 

“I’m sorry, dude,” Steve says, “I don’t get what you mean.”

Eddie deflates.

“I know we haven’t necessarily defined it.” His voice is wavering, eyes getting watery. Shit shit shit, what did Steve do? This is so completely out of nowhere and Steve doesn’t know how to fix it. “But I didn’t realize it was actually that insignificant to you.”

Steve shoots his arm out to stop Eddie from closing the door on him. He needs to figure out what’s going on so he can make it right, and that’s not gonna happen if Eddie shuts him out. “Eds, seriously, you’re gonna have to fill me in,” he says, “‘Cause I honestly don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Seriously?” Eddie asks, anger over taking the sadness in his voice, “You’re gonna act like you don’t know?”

“I don’t!” Steve nearly shouts, desperate. “Please, man, I’m not trying to piss you off here. Whatever it is, I wanna make it right. You just have to tell me what you mean.”

“You and I,” Eddie says. Looking at him like it should be obvious. When it’s so, so not. It makes Steve want to scream. “We’re—I thought we were together.”

“Together? Like…together how?”

Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen Eddie look this pissed off. “Use your goddamned brain, Harrington,” he spits, “Like together.”

Oh. Okay. That’s…something. It’s not that Steve would necessarily be opposed, or even that he hasn’t thought of it. It’s just not true. They’re not together. And he’s not sure why Eddie thinks they are. Yeah, they’re close, but it’s not like they’re closer than Steve and Robin. It’s not like they’re closer than Steve was to Tommy back in the day. He and Eddie haven’t done anything that feels outside the realm of friendship to him. And he definitely didn’t realize that Eddie saw it any differently.

“Um,” Steve says, aware that he’s standing like an idiot on Eddie’s doorstep and needs to answer. “Why?”

“Oh my God,” Eddie says, making as if to close the door again. Steve barely catches it in time. It makes Eddie glare at him. “There’s no way you’re being serious,” he says.

Keeping one hand on the door, Steve throws up the other one in a gesture he stole from Robin. “I really am,” he says, “You know what the kids say. I’m an idiot. You really have to lay things out for me.”

That at least makes Eddie soften a few degrees. “You’re not an idiot, Steve,” he says, “You’re just—oblivious, apparently.”

“Yeah, that too.”

Eddie sighs. “Just come in. We can talk about it.” He steps back and lets Steve come inside. The flowers are still clutched in Eddie’s hand, starting to wilt. Eddie sets them on the table before joining Steve on the couch. 

“A month ago is when you stayed over for the first time,” Eddie says. Steve nods. “And you kissed me.” Steve nods again. Eddie lifts his eyebrows significantly. “You’re not seeing the connection?”

Steve shrugs. “I mean, I guess there’s other ways you could construe that,” he says, “But I thought it was, like, a friend kiss. A goodnight kiss.”

“A friend kiss,” Eddie says flatly. “You kiss a lot of your friends?”

“Sure,” Steve says, “Well, Robin prefers forehead kisses and Jonathan’s more of a hug guy, but I used to kiss Tommy and Carol all the time.”

Disbelief is the main emotion on Eddie’s face. And a whole lot of other ones that Steve can’t quite parse out. “So—everything we’ve done,” Eddie says, slowly, like he’s trying to come to terms with it. “It’s all just…been normal friend shit to you?”

Steve thinks back over the last month, trying to think if anything stands out in his head as non-platonic. Maybe there’s been a time or two when he was kissing Eddie or cuddling up to him in bed or sitting on his lap during D&D where Steve’s felt a sort of stirring deep in his belly. But he figured that was one-sided. His body’s reaction to whatever was happening and not a manifestation of, like, feelings or something. After all, the same thing used to happen with Tommy when they’d do similar stuff. And clearly they were just friends.

After a full twenty seconds of Steve not answering, Eddie drops his head in his hands. “Holy shit,” he mutters. Then he lifts his head. “This—you—the other day. You slept over. We made out. You—you took my fucking shirt off, Steve.”

Yeah, that did happen. And Steve doesn’t have a great explanation for it. “I don’t know,” he says, “It was the heat of the moment or whatever.”

“The heat of the moment,” Eddie repeats, and Steve can’t tell if he’s on the verge of tears or the verge of laughing. Eddie puts his arm on the back of the couch and leans toward Steve. “Can you honestly say that you’re not attracted to me at all?”

Annoyingly, Steve can feel his face start to heat. “I never said that,” he mutters.

For the first time, Eddie looks triumphant. “So you are attracted to me?”

“Yeah, man,” Steve says, squirming uncomfortably. Of course he’s attracted to Eddie. What’s not to be attracted to? He’s smart, funny, hot, good with the kids, good on the guitar, good at kissing. Helped save the world. “You’re, like, it for me. I definitely think about you that way. I just didn’t think you thought about me that way.”

Eddie laughs, the sound containing more disbelief than humor, but still overall a good thing. “I can’t believe the guy who’s been sharing my bed for the past month didn’t think I was into him.”

“Hey, you’re not the only person whose bed I’ve shared.” Shit, that was a bad way to put it. “Platonically.”

Shaking his head, Eddie laughs again. “Clearly, your idea of platonic does not line up with mine,” he says. “But you mean it? You’re into me?”

“Yeah, Eds,” Steve says, “I’m into you.”

“So, does that mean you’d want to be my boyfriend?”

“Apparently I already have been for the past month,” Steve says, grinning.

Eddie grins back. “Doesn’t count if you didn’t know.”

“Then we can count from today,” Steve says, “Starting now, I’m your boyfriend.”

He hasn’t finished saying the last word before Eddie is surging forward and taking Steve’s face in his hands. He shifts onto Steve’s lap, kissing him deeply. 

And it doesn’t feel platonic at all.

[evilminji]

Oh... my god? Ghost Reporters.

Imagine it. Their office is in the Zone. They literally FEED of hunting for The Next Big Scoop! And Revealing The Truth! Every honest reporter that got silenced for getting a little too close to the facts. The bloody, beating, heart of societies underbelly.

Every Lois Lane that had no Kryptonian to stop some rich and powerful jackals putting them in the ground.

Well Death sure didn't stop THEM! They STILL want answers! But now they have co-wokers. Oh~ and SUPERPOWERS! And best part?

The newly appointed KING is going too and from the living world. That must mean it's okay now, RIGHT? Your majesty? You're not a RAGING HYPOCRITE, aaaaare you? :) 🎤

And... look. Danny knows full well what these piranhas are up too. He's not stupid. But Madeline Fenton raised a lot of things. Fool? Not one of um. That a LOT of reporters with sharp, sharp teeth and bloodlust in their eyes. He wants to half-live.

He compromises. Illusion of control and all that. Yeah, yeah, they all tooootally respect his authority etc. Give them Them Scoop! He, wisely, gets the fuck out of the way. Whoosh! Off they go!

Thats.... probably gonna be a problem. *siiiiiips his morning coffee* But it's not HIS problem. Not right now.

And? Suddenly all these politicians and business leaders are getting fucking AMBUSHED. Oh? You thought you'd get soft ball "aren't I a man of the people. Buy oil!" Bullshit questions? HA! Where were you on June 27th, 1978, at-

And "according to YOUR words, exact quote as follows-"

Just? They BEAT the leader with the STICK. "Oh but you'll lose access". They'd love to see HOW! They can go through WALLS! Answer the question, coward. "Your gonna make powerful enemies!" Oh nooooo, what are they gonna DO?

Shoot us TWICE?

Hey Mr. Family Values! How's the three mistresses your wife doesn't know about?? "No comment"? That's fine. We already have THEIRS. >:D Good luck with your upcoming election!

And like? As newspapers are shutting down and turning clickbait all across the country? This ONE(1) tiny, middle of nowhere town? Somehow has a horrid, horrid, ARMY of Satan's own Reporters. All apparently willing to die for the News. Throwing themselves at dictators and Supervillians alike.

"We see no God here but the Truth" is literally their papers MOTTO.

The damn thing is basicly a BRICK. You get a paperback of news. Entire planet AND THEN SOME. How?! How are they reporting, IN DETAIL, on the break down of talks between two planets 16 galaxies over? Hal says it's accurate. But what Earth paper would even HAVE that information?

And?? The whole town treats this as normal? There are human children, complaining about the weight of papers, because it makes their paper routes a pain in the ass. Soccer moms discussing alien celebrity drama. Farmers muttering over foreign unrest and how it will impact their corn harvest.

Fucking Lex Luthor, clearly deciding to roll with it, coming to sign himself up for a paper. Gaining a new life long Nemesis upon meeting Vladimir Master, whom he decides is both hot and unbearable. Someone is heard shouting "oh god, there's TWO OF THEM!"

And?? Look. Clark isn't MAD. Or JEALOUS. Nor is he in a secret Reporting War with Jerry from the Amity Chronicle. Because that would be petty and childish. He's just SAYING, maybe they should check the place out!

Maybe Jerry is a DICK and deserves it, is all. (Lois stop laughing.)

@hypewinter @hdgnj @ailithnight

[waitimcomingtoo]

I Can See You

pairing: Peter Parker x Happy’s daughter!reader

synopsis: You can see Peter being your addiction and Peter can see you as a secret mission

real synopsis: Happy forbids you and Peter from dating, which only makes you want to do it more

Masterlist

“Hey.” You nodded at Peter as you wandered into his room. The hair on Peters neck stood up on high alert now that a stranger was in his bedroom. He shut his laptop and swiveled in his desk chair to follow what you were doing. He watched you walk over to his Lego shelf as if you’d been in his room a hundred times and admired his Lego titanic.

“Um, hello. Can I help you?” Peter asked.

“Did you build this?” You asked in reply.

“Oh, yeah. I did. It took me almost a full month.”

“Wow. It’s huge.” You said and gently ran your hand along the side of it.

“I know. It’s kinda cramped in here, though. I want to display it in the living room.” Peter told you. His tingle was telling him you weren’t a threat so now he just saw you as a pretty girl who had wandered into his room.

“You totally should display this thing. It’s awesome. What’s stopping you?” You wondered.

“The family pictures in the way.” Peter laughed dryly.

“Psh. Who needs those?” You joked, making him smile.

“Not me.” Peter played along. “But my aunt might be just a little upset if I replaced photos of her dead brother and dead husband with my Lego titanic.”

“That’s nothing. My dad replaced my high school graduation picture with a photo of his dead best friend eating a cheeseburger. It’s not even a good picture. It’s blurry and my dads pinky is in the frame.”

“Damn, your graduation picture? That’s next level. Either he really loved his best friend or it was a really good cheeseburger.”

“Probably both.” You shrugged. “Uncle Tony knew all the best cheeseburger spots in Queens.”

“Wait, Tony? Like Tony Stark?” Peter asked and stood up from his desk chair.

“Yeah, Tony Stark. Oh, that’s right. I forgot you knew him.” You said and tapped the side of your head.

“Your dads best friend.” Peter said to himself. “Wait a second. Are you…”

“Y/n Hogan. Your aunt invited my dad and I over for dinner.” You said and you held your hand out.

“Wait, you’re Happy’s daughter? But you’re so pretty.” Peter said in disbelief as he shook your hand.

“What?” You laughed.

“I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. Your dad is a very beautiful man. I can see the resemblance.” Peter quickly followed up.

“Seeing the resemblance is impressive considering I was adopted.” You laughed again and continued looking around his room. You saw his Spiderman suit hanging in the closet and touched it with a fond smile on your face.

“Oh God. Can we start over? I feel like I failed at this conversation.”

“You didn’t. I actually think you’re doing a pretty good job talking to me considering the deep lore that runs between us and our mutual acquaintances.” You assured him.

“Oh.” He blushed. “Thanks.”

“No problem. So did this thing come with a Lego iceberg?” You asked and pointed to the Lego titanic.

“No. That would’ve been perfect. But unfortunately, Lego didn’t have a dark sense of humor.”

“But I do. Do you have any blue legos?” You asked with a devious smile.

“Yeah. What are you thinking?”

A few minutes later, you and Peter were sitting on his bedroom floor with his Lego bin between you. You led the conversation, much to Peters delight, as you added onto each others creations. Even though Peter was usually shy and awkward around strangers, he found it very easy to talk to you. Maybe it was because you were already apart of his secret world and he didn’t have to lie about anything, or maybe it was just because you got along. Whatever it was, Peter really enjoyed talking to you. You felt more like an old friend rather then a stranger. Happy came into the room after a little while and was surprised to see you already in there.

“Oh, there you are. I was looking for you. But I see you found Peter.” Happy said and gave Peter a stern look.

“You never told me you had a daughter.” Peter playfully scolded him to keep the mood light.

“That’s because I don’t disclose any personal information to teenagers in spandex.” Happy said curtly.

“Dad. Be nice.” You whispered harshly.

“What are you guys doing in here anyway?” Happy asked as he folded his arms.

“Making a Lego iceberg for Peters Lego titanic.” You explained and held up what you had built so far.

“Interesting, interesting. Peter, can I talk to you for a second?” Happy said through a fake smile.

“Yeah. Sure. Be right back.” He told you before getting up to follow Happy into the hallway.

“What’s up?” Peter asked kindly.

“Don’t even think about it.” Happy said immediately.

“Huh? Don’t think about what?”

“My daughter. Don’t even let it cross your mind. Because if it crosses your mind, I’ll know about it. And if I know about it, I’m gonna kill you.”

“Wait, you think I’m trying to date your daughter? I just met her. Relax.” Peter laughed.

“No, I won’t relax. I don’t ever want to see my daughter in your bedroom, okay? That’s gross. I don’t want you getting your horny little nerd germs on her.”

“We were just playing with legos.” Peter pointed out.

“That’s always how it starts.” Happy wagged his finger. “I know your type. You lure girls in with your boyish charm because they think you’re safe.”

“I am safe, Happy.” Peter insisted. “You know me. You know I’d never break her heart.”

“I know you won’t. Because you won’t get the chance.”

“I’m sorry, but why is it okay for you to date my aunt but not for me to date your daughter?” Peter asked and folded his arms.

“Oh, so it has crossed your mind? I knew you were thinking about dating my daughter.” Happy pointed accusingly at him. “I knew it the second I walked into your room. You’re thinking about her right now, aren’t you? Well stop. My daughter is not allowed in your head, okay? Ever. Get her out.”

“I wasn’t thinking about dating her until you put the idea into my head. But I kinda want to do it now.” Peter laughed in amusement and looked back at his room where you were.

“Don’t you even dare.” Happy whispered and took a step closer to him.

“Or what? What’ll you do?” Peter challenged him. He didn’t even care that much about it, he just wanted to antagonize Happy for his own amusement.

“Kill you.” Happy stated like it was obvious. “Like I said.”

“What if she likes me? Huh?” Peter smirked. “You can’t tell her not to date me. That’ll just drive her straight into my arms.”

“That’s not gonna be a problem because she’ll never like you. She’s too smart.”

“I’m a good guy, Happy. Tony knew that. Wouldn’t you rather her date a nice, responsible guy that you’ve known for years over some random stranger whose intentions might be impure?”

“She can date a guy I know.” Happy shrugged. “Just not you.”

“We’ll see.” Peter shrugged as well.

“What? What does that mean? We’ll see? We’re not gonna see anything because you’re not dating my daughter.” Happy declared.

“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t.” Peter shrugged again.

“No, you definitely won’t.”

“How are you gonna stop it?” Peter asked him.

“With a gun.” Happy replied. “That I use to kill you. To death.”

“I don’t think your daughter would appreciate you killing her future boyfriend.” Peter said innocently.

“You’re not her future boyfriend. You’re not her future anything. But you’re a future dead person if you keep this up.”

“Relax, Happy. I’m just messing with you. I’m not gonna date your daughter.” Peter laughed and patted Happy’s shoulder. Just then, you came out of Peters room with the Lego iceberg you had built.

“I’m gonna help May in the kitchen. Maybe I’ll accidentally knock down a few family pictures while I’m in there.” You said and winked at Peter.

“Why would you do that?” Happy asked you.

“Peter gets it.” You smiled coyly before disappearing down the hall and into the kitchen. Peter watched you walk away and felt something blossoming in his chest. That simple moment of sweet understanding between you was all he needed to fall head over heels for you.

“Happy?” Peter said without taking his eyes off where you had just been standing.

“Yeah?” Happy replied. Peter turned to face him, put his hand on Happy’s shoulder, and smiled sympathetically.

“I’m gonna date your daughter.”

Before Happy could respond, May called everyone in for dinner. Peter and Happy exchanged a look before throwing on smiles so that you and May wouldn’t suspect anything. Happy sat across from Peter with you sitting beside him, meaning that every time Peter looked at you, he got a kick under the table from Happy. Similarly, anytime you tried to ask Peter a question or start a conversation with him, Happy cut you off. Peter tried to do the same with you but was always met with a death glare from Happy. The incredibly silent and awkward dinner ended all too soon and Happy could not have taken you out of Peters apartment fast enough. You waved to Peter as Happy pulled you out the door but there was no time for an exchanging of words. What a beautiful wedding jk jk iykyk.

Peter was fully prepared to let his little crush on you go away on its own without any intention of acting on it. He knew it was a bad idea anyway to get involved with the daughter of the head of security, but that didn’t stop him from thinking about you from time to time.

“Hey Happy. I just wanted to report that I found a lost dog today. But then it ran away again after I returned to to the owner. I’m starting to think it wanted to be lost. Maybe he met a bunch of stray dogs and felt more at home with them on the streets than he ever did in his owner’s apartment. What do you think?” Peter asked over FaceTime as he gave Happy his daily report from patrolling the neighborhood.

“Kid, I don’t care. I never have. You don’t need to keep calling me with random updates of what you do on patrol.” Happy told him. In the background of Happy’s video, Peter could see you walking into the room with nothing but a towel wrapped around yourself and your wet hair hanging around your face. He perked up and felt his face heat up at the sight of you.

“Is that Peter?” You asked and walked over to where Happy was sitting.

“No. It’s not.” Happy said and tried to shut his laptop.

“Hi Peter.” You opened it back up and waved, leaving you with only one hand to hold your towel onto your body. Peter turned bright red as he stared at the screen and felt all dialogue options leave his mind.

“Oh, uh, hi.” He stammered. “I didn’t see you there. I didn’t even know you were home. How’s it going?”

“Pretty good.” You shrugged. “What kind of dog was it?”

“What?”

“The dog you found. What breed?” You asked with genuine interest. Peter smiled at you wanting to know and felt his blush deepen.

“Chihuahua. His name was Pinto.”

“Aw.” You smiled. “That’s so cute.“

“Oh, yeah. Very cute. Very, very cute.” Peters eyes glazed over as he stared at your through the screen. Happy looked back and forth between Peter and you before realizing what Peter was staring at.

“I’m hanging up now.” Happy warned.

“Wait-“

The call ended abruptly and Peter was left alone staring at a black screen. If Happy was going to stop him from seeing you, he would going to have to get creative.

A few nights later, Peter formed a new plan. If Happy was gonna date his aunt, he was going to use it to his advantage.

“Oopsie. I just accidentally ordered two pizzas instead of one. Silly me. What will we do with all this incoming pizza?” Peter asked as he dramatically scratched the top of his head to make it look like he was thinking.

“I don’t know.” May shrugged. “Eat a lot of pizza?”

“That’s a great idea, May. Or, and this is just coming to me now, what if we invite Happy over to eat some? So you guys can have a little date night. He even can bring his daughter. What was her name again? Telulah? Annabeth? Marcy?”

“Y/n?” May chuckled and raised her eyebrow.

“Right. Her.” Peter played dumb. “She probably likes pizza, right?”

“I know what you’re doing, but I’m gonna go with it anyway because there’s no way we can eat two pies and I hate wasting food.” May playfully scolded him as she dialed Happy’s number.

Much to Peters delight, you and Happy showed up a few minutes later. You were standing behind your dad with a bag behind your back.

“Hey. Thanks for the invite.” Happy said and kissed Mays cheek. You looked at Peter over your dads shoulder and waved.

“No problem.” May replied. “It was actually Peters idea.”

“Oh, was it?” Happy asked and stared daggers at Peter. Peter shrugged innocently before making eye contact with you. He discreetly nodded towards his bedroom before going to it. You followed after him once the coast was clear.

“Hey.” You smiled at him and shut his door behind you.

“Hey. Thanks for coming over. I’m glad you could make it.” Peter played it cool but was screaming on the inside over you being in his room again.

“I’m glad you invited us. I have a present for you but I didn’t have any way of getting in touch with you.”

“You wanna touch me?” Peter said in a low voice as he stared at you with his eyebrows raised.

“What was that?”

“I said you have a present for me?” He quickly corrected himself and threw on a smile.

“Uh huh. Look what I found.” You held the bag up and pulled out the Lego Super Star Destroyer, a Lego set Peter had dreamed of owning since he was a kid.

“What?! You got this for me?” He jumped out of his chair and held the box to read it.

“Yeah. You mentioned last time that you always wanted this one. I know you’re a big fan of the movies so I wanted you to have it.” You smiled sheepishly as you stared at him. His childlike excitement and wonderstruck expression made him even cuter than you typically found him. His expression changed suddenly when he realized he could never accept such a costly gift.

“This set costs a fortune. You really didn’t have to do this.” Peter looked apologetic as he looked into your eyes. You laughed a little at how bad he felt and put your hand on top of his.

“It’s okay. I wanted to do it.” You assured him. “Plus, Uncle Tony put me in his will so I’m kinda flushed with cash right now. I would’ve just spent the money on something stupid. And I know he loved you so he’d be happy I used the money to buy a Lego set for us.”

“Us?” Peter cracked a smile and felt his excitement return.

“Yeah. I thought we could build it together while my dad makes out with your aunt.” You suggested.

“Gross.” Peter grimaced. “But the part about building it together sounds fun.”

Now that he was willing to keep it, you tore the box open and dumped the pieces out. You and Peter sat next to each other with your knees touching as you built the spaceship. Peter snuck glances at you every now and then, and you caught them every time. You accidentally made eye contact at one point and he turned pink.

“You know, my dads been up my ass all week because of you.” You said with a soft laugh.

“Me? What did I do?”

“I don’t know. Did you tell him we were dating or something?” You questioned him, making him gulp.

“Actually, he told me not to date you.” Peter admitted.

“He told me the same thing. Little does he know, that just makes me want to date you even more.” You replied. Peter froze and realized that if what Happy said made you want to date him more, that meant you already wanted to date him in the first place. You realized that you had said too much at the same time Peter did and looked at him out of the corner of your eye to see if he was weirded out. To your surprise, he was staring at you with a soft expression. He quickly cleared his throat and looked away when you caught him staring.

“Doesn’t he know that the hottest thing a guy can do is be disliked by the girls dad?” Peter said like it was obvious.

“Exactly. I told him disapproving of you was just going to send me straight into your arms. And who could even blame me? They’re really nice arms.” You shrugged and gave Peter a coy smile. Peter laughed shyly and busied himself with the legos so you wouldn’t see him blushing.

“What did he say to that?” He asked you.

“That there will be a cold day in hell before he lets me go out with you.” You laughed.

“And what did you say?” Peter asked as he looked up at you and found that you were already looking at him.

“I told him that he can’t tell me who to date and if I wanted to go out with you, I will.” You said simply. Peter gulped and never broke eye contact with you and he reached for a Lego brick. Your hands accidentally touched and he saw sparks fly.

“Do you want to go out with me?” He asked quietly. You opened your mouth to answer just as May opened hers.

“Hey, kids. Pizzas here.” May said as she appeared in Peters doorway. You looked at him apologetically before getting up and following May to the kitchen. He desperately wanted to get you alone again to finish your conversation, but Happy was never gonna let that happen.

It came time for you and Happy to leave and Peter was visibly disappointed. As Happy and May said their goodbyes, you pulled Peter to the side.

“Goodnight, Peter. I had fun tonight.” You said sincerely.

“So did I. Thank you again for the legos. It’s the nicest thing anyones ever done for me.”

“I’m glad you liked them. Hopefully I’ll see you again. Hopefully soon.”

“Yeah. Totally.” Peter nodded eagerly.

You held out your hand to shake Peters, which Peter found a little strange. But when he shook your hand, he felt you slip a piece of paper into his. Peter waited until Happy was out the door before opening the paper up. Written in your handwriting was your phone number. Peter looked up in surprise and made eye contact with you.

“Call me.” You mouthed to him and made your hand like a phone just as Happy pulled you away.

And that’s exactly what Peter did. It became your nightly secret mission to sneak off and call Peter once you were sure Happy was asleep or preoccupied in front of the TV. You would talk for hours in hushed voices so no one would hear.

“Can you imagine what my dad would do if he found us out?” You asked Peter one night as you hung over the edge of your bed to talk to Peter.

“So there’s an us to find out about?” Peter asked and felt grateful you couldn’t see his blush over the phone.

“I don’t know.” You smiled timidly. “I really like talking to you, Peter.”

“Well that’s good. I’m happy to hear that. Because I like it too.” He laughed shyly.

“I think about you a lot when we’re not on the phone.” You admitted as you switched positions and rolled onto your stomach.

“You do?” Peter gulped.

“Uh huh. All the time.”

“What do you think about?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe half the things I see inside my head.” You chuckled. Peter gulped again and felt his face heat up. He cleared his throat before speaking again.

“Why don’t you explain it to me then?” He asked. Before you could answer, a loud crash sounded from his side of the phone.

“What’s all that noise?” You asked him.

“Mays looking for the pasta maker.” Peter sighed. “We have a thousand boxes of mezzi rigatoni but she wanted fettuccini.”

“Fettuccine actually sounds amazing right now. I need to get up and make some food. I just hope my dad went grocery shopping or else I’m eating sleep for dinner.”

“You should come over tonight.” Peter said before he would overthink it.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Come make pasta with us. May usually burns something and then gives up about 15 minutes into cooking so we wouldn’t have to hang out with her the whole time. We could make pasta together. Just the two of us.”

“Okay. My dads watching a movie in the den so he won’t mind if I go out. I’m in.” You smiled and started to get ready to see him.

“Awesome. Great. See you soon.” Peter grinned and hung up the phone. He quickly brushed his teeth and put on a fresh shirt before joining May in the kitchen. There was a knock on the door soon enough and Peter practically ran to open it.

“Ciao.” He said as he flung the door open.

“Ciao, bello.” You replied. “Scopiamo stasera o cosa?”

“Wait, what? I don’t actually speak Italian.” Peter sheepishly.

“That’s probably for the better.” You laughed and walked into his apartment.

“Oh, good. You’re here. And you brought wine! Even better. Come in, come in.” May kissed your cheek before taking the bottle of wine and opening it.

“Peters been dying for you to get here.” She whispered in your ear, but loud enough for Peter to hear.

“May.” Peter whined and motioned for her to zip it.

“What? I’m just being honest.” May shrugged. “Honesty is the best policy. That’s what I always say.”

“She’s right. That’s a great policy.” You said and gave Peter a look.

“Oh yeah? Does your dad know you’re here?” Peter asked you and folded his arms, already knowing the answer. Your smile dropped when you realized he was right.

“A little lie never hurt anybody.” You replied. Peter smirked, knowing he caught you.

“Come here. I’ll show you how to make the dough.” Peter said and led you to the kitchen with his hand on your back. You and Peter made the pasta dough while May chopped up some tomatoes and made a sauce. May switched the radio on to play some instrumental background music that made the apartment feel like a small cafe in Italy.

“All right. I think we’re ready. I’m gonna get the pasta maker. It should be in the attic.” May broke up the party and put the meatball back in the sauce.

“If you can’t find it, what do we do with all this dough?” You asked her.

“I don’t know. Make a shit ton of Pizza.” May shrugged and left to go find the pasta maker.

“Okay then.” You chuckled. Once you and Peter were alone, you hoped up on the counter and leg your legs swing.

“Should we try it to make sure it tastes good?” You asked as you rolled some dough between your fingers and made a snake.

“Yeah, but not that piece. You made a worm.” Peter said and pointed to your dough.

“So what? It’s just dough. Try some.” You replied and dangled the dough in his face.

“Dough way.” He laughed at his own pun and swatted the dough away.

“Oh, we’re making pasta puns now? You’re gonna pay for that.” You playfully warned him.

“But I dough not want it.” Peter pouted and leaned on the counter you were sitting on so you were caged in between his arms. You both became aware of how close you were at the same time and laughed shyly.

“Can’t think of anything other than replacing “do” with “dough” huh?” You asked and raised an eyebrow.

“Dough, I can’t.” He shamefully admitted. You gave him a look and he held up his hands in defense.

“That one was different.” He pointed out.

“All right. I’ll give it to you. Now eat the pasta worm.” You playfully demanded and dangled it in his face again.

“No. Get that thing away from me.” He laughed and smacked it away. It flew across the room and stuck to a nearby cabinet with a loud smack.

“Wow. Look at that.” Peter said, genuinely dumbfounded.

“It’s kinda beautiful.” You said as you quietly stared at the pasta in awe. Peter turned to look at you and rested his hands back on the counter.

“You’re kinda beautiful.” He said in a soft voice. You tore your eyes away from the pasta to look at him but couldn’t form a single word.

“Even with flour on your face.” He chuckled and wiped a smudge of flour off your cheek with his thumb. You gulped and discreetly picked up some flour off the counter.

“You have some flour on your face too.” You told him as you stared into his eyes.

“Where? Here?” Peter asked and touched his cheek.

“No. Here.” You smirked before throwing the handful of flour at him. Peter coughed and waved his hand to get it away from his face.

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that.” He warned and grabbed a handful of flour. He went to throw it at you but you caught him by the wrist to stop him. Peter wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him so that you couldn’t block his next attempt. But instead of feeling flour on your face, you felt Peter kissing you. You weren’t actually sure if you kissed him or he kissed you, but you didn’t really care. You wasted no time in tangling your hands on his hair and deepening the kiss. His hands slid up and down your back before finding their way up your shirt. You felt your entire body heat up as you kissed him and felt all the tension that had been building up release into the atmosphere between you. He kissed you until you felt dizzy but you didn’t stop even then. You started to unbutton his button down when the moment was interrupted.

“Found it!” May called from the hallway. You jumped apart so quickly that you fell right off the counter. You screamed on the way down as Peter watched with his hands over his mouth. He rushed to pick you up just as May came back into the kitchen. She took one look at the flour covering the two of your, most noticeably the flour handprints on either of Peters cheeks, and knew what had happened.

“Oh my God. What happened in here?” May played dumb.

“Fell.” You and Peter said in unison.

“Oh no. Are you okay?”

“Maybe?” You smiled weakly and rubbed your throbbing head. Peter touched his hands, which now felt cold from the absence of you.

“Oh my God. How did you get flour all over your back?” May laughed and turned you around to see the flour Peter had left all over your clothing.

“I’m a messy girl.” You shrugged and hoped she’d buy it.

“Look at that. The flour on Y/n’s butt looks like a perfect handprint. How funny is that?” May laughed again and pointed to the handprint Peter had left on your black leggings. He turned so red that he had to turn around so May wouldn’t see it.

“I’m gonna go potty.” You said quickly and ran to the bathroom.

“She okay?” May asked once you were gone.

“Her? What? Yeah. She’s fine. Nothing weird happened while you were gone.” Peter said a little too quickly.

“Hm. How did that piece of pasta get stuck to the cabinet?” May asked and pointed to the pasta Peter had flung.

“I’m not sure.” Peter lied.

“Are you feeling okay? Your face and neck is all red.” May asked and pressed her hand to Peters forehead. He knew she was getting suspicious and had to think of a lie to get out of there.

“I have to poop.” Peter blurted and walked out of the kitchen.

“Y/n is in there.” May called after him.

“I’ll go to the other bathroom!” He shouted back.

Peter passed the bathroom in the hallway and stopped outside of it. He pressed his ear against the door to try and hear if you were freaking out or not.

Which you 100% were.

“What the hell are you doing? You can’t just kiss him. You slut bag! You hussy! You don’t even know how he feels about you.” You whispered to the mirror. You splashed some cold water on your face to calm down before looking at your reflection.

“Woman up and get your shit together. Go out there and make pasta with your dads girlfriends nephew like a fucking normal person.” You warned yourself in the mirror.

The bathroom door suddenly opened and Peter fell inside. You gasped and pulled him the rest of the way in before shutting the door.

“I’m sorry! I wasn’t doing anything!” Peter said quickly.

“What are you doing out here?!” You whispered harshly.

“Nothing! I just wanted to talk!” He whispered back in a panic.

“So you wait outside the bathroom door? What if I was pooping?! You would’ve heard it.” You whispered even louder and angrily shook his shirt.

“But I didn’t.” He said weakly.

“I think I need to go home.” You sighed and left the bathroom.

“Wait, no. Please stay.” Peter pleaded as he followed after you. He caught you in the hallway and gently pulled your arm to get you to stop.

“I can’t. I can’t go back in there. She’s gonna know something sus happened.” You whispered to him and pointed to the kitchen.

“It wasn’t sus. But I really think we need to talk about it.” Peter said and looked at you with his big puppy dog eyes. You knew he was dying to talk about it and you felt guilty leaving him after what happened.

“Peter, look. I’m really sorry that I kissed you-“

“I’m not.” He cut you off and pushed you against the wall. The interrupted kiss was resumed and even more passionate than the last. He had you up against the wall as he kissed you as if he hadn’t seen you in years. You forgot all about the pasta and your dads warning and just got lost in his touch. You both knew it was wrong and that you could be caught any second, and that’s what made it feel so right. Peter squeezed your hip, signaling you to jump up and wrap your legs around his waist. You couldn’t feel him smiling into the kiss as he pressed you against the wall. That was the moment you knew you were never giving this boy up, no matter what your father said.

“Peter! Y/n! What happened to my sous chefs?” May shouted from the kitchen. You pulled apart and stared at each other as you caught your breath.

Peter gently set you back down on the floor but stayed in your personal space as he leaned against the wall. You never broke eye contact with him as he fixed a strand of hair that he knocked onto the wrong side of your part. You gulped and smoothed your clothing down before looking away.

“Can we talk after? Please? Don’t go home.” Peter pleased as he buttoned his shirt back up. You looked him up and down and knew you were at his mercy.

“Fine. You’ve convinced me. I’ll stay.” You agreed. Peter smiled in relief and led you back to them kitchen.

“Look who decided to join us.” May smiled proudly and stepped to the side to reveal Happy standing behind her. Peters knees buckled and he immediately fainted onto the ground. You caught him and let him lean on you as you waved your hand in front of his face to wake him up.

“Dad? What are you doing here?” You asked through a big fake smile.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He said through an even faker smile.

“I was making Peter with Pasta. I mean, pasta with Peter.” You stumbled over your words as Peter came to and nearly fell over again. You held him upright but his waist until he could stand on his own. Happy was watching the whole thing and growing more suspicious by the second.

“Hm. You didn’t mention you were going over my girlfriends house when you said you were going out. I find that a little strange. Don’t you?” Happy shrugged as he folded his arms.

“Maybe I find you a little strange.” You said out of the corner of your mouth.

“Now that Happy’s here we’re gonna need some more pasta. Honey, can you knead the rest of the dough?” May asked you.

“Sure. I can dough that.” You laughed nervously. Happy gave you a strange look and you gulped.

“I’m sorry. I kiss-poke. I mean, misspoke.” You gulped again and went over to the dough. Peter went to follow you and earned a longing glare from Happy as he did. The two of you bumped into each other and dropped things on the floor numerous times from how nervous you were now that Happy was there. Once Happy and May disappeared to the couch to drink wine, Peter knew it was safe to talk.

“Stop being weird.” He whispered to you.

“I’m about to murder-suicide us.” You said at full volume.

“Peter, can you help her? You gotta put your elbow grease into it.” May called from the couch.

“Yeah. I can dough that.” Peter replied.

“Stop making dough puns.” You hissed.

“I literally fucking can’t.” He deadpanned. You suddenly felt his arms wrap around you as he put his hands on top of yours to knead the dough.

“What are you doing?” You asked him.

“Helping you knead the dough.”

“Why wouldn’t you just stand beside me?”

“Because this is how men show women how to do things in rom coms.” Peter said very seriously.

“Okay, but we’re not in a rom com. We’re in real life in your real kitchen with my dad who has a real gun.”

“He won’t shoot me. I’m his girlfriends only nephew. I’m untouchable.”

“And so am I as long as my father is present.” You said and slipped out of his arms.

“Is everything okay over there?” Happy asked from the couch.

“Yes.” You and Peter shouted back in unison. You finished with the dough and brought it over to the pasta maker.

“You better speed run this fucking pasta before I lose my mind.” You whispered in his ear.

“I’m going as fast as I can.” Peter whispered back as he put the dough in the pasta maker as painstakingly slow as possibly. The pasta maker squeaked as he turned the handle and echoed off the walls of the silent kitchen. You could feel sweat running down your face and started to fan yourself.

“I can’t handle this. My dad is gonna know what we did.” You said and gave your hair a stressful tug.

“We haven’t done anything wrong.” He pointed out as he finished up with the pasta. You nodded in agreement and picked up the pasta he had made.

“Yet.” He added and stole a kiss against your neck. You gasped and put your hand where his lips had been.

“What are you doing? My dad is in the next room?”

“I know. That’s what makes it so exciting.” Peter said and leaned in to kiss you again.

“The water should be boiling by now. Can you start putting the pasta in?” May asked as she appeared in the kitchen. You quickly turned around and pretended to be doing something so she wouldn’t suspect anything.

“Sure.” Peter smiled calmly at her and put the pasta into the boiling water. May went back to the living room, leaving you and Peter alone once again. You picked up a wooden spoon and pushed the pasta around the pot in an attempt to look busy.

“I can see you. Stop staring at me.” You said when you felt Peters eyes on you. You looked up and sure enough, he was watching you with a soft expression.

“I’m sorry. I can’t help it.” He said as he walked over to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and pulled you into him. It felt nice for a moment but you knew it shouldn’t be happening.

“I am off limits, okay mister? You cannot be staring at me like that.” You whispered and slipped out of his arms.

“Off limits? What does that mean?” He played dumb.

“It means that we cannot happen.” You said and gestured between the two of you. “We can never, ever happen. My dad will reign hell fire on you for even thinking about it. And he’ll reign regular fire on me because I’m his daughter which will be less hot but still really bad.”

“Psh.” Peter scoffed. “I’m not scared of him.”

“You should be. He has access to all of Uncle Tony’s weapons. So unless you want to get blown up or turned inside out, you need to stop. That’s means stop staring at me, stop touching me, and definitely stop kissing me.” You whispered as you got in his face. Peter smirked now that he had you close again and put his hands on your hips. You gulped and looked anywhere but his eyes as he got close to you.

“You want me to stop kissing you?” He asked as he tilted your chin up to look in his eyes.

“Yes.” You replied, but it came out like more of a question than a statement.

“Are you sure?” He asked and moved in even closer. His lips brushed yours when he spoke and you felt your eyelids flutter shut. Right before your lips could touch, you covered your mouth and stepped back.

“No. No more. We can’t.” You said behind your hand. Peter smiled sadly and nodded his head. He looked disappointed but like he understood.

“I know we can’t happen.” He said in a soft voice. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want it to.”

“It doesn’t matter what we want.” You gently reminded him and nodded towards the living room where Happy was.

“So you want it too?” He asked innocently and tilted his head to the side. You sucked in a sharp breath and thought about the way it felt when he had you up against the wall and how badly you wanted that again.

“Peter.” You breathed out.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful I find you?” Peter asked you. Footsteps approaching made you jump apart and turn your backs to each other.

“Hey guys. How’s the pasta coming?” May asked as she walked into the kitchen.

“It’s coming.” Peter replied.

“It’s definitely pasta.” You nodded in agreement.

“Great. I’ll set the table.” May laughed at your strange behavior and grabbed some plates. Once you were alone again, you answered Peters question.

“Yes.” You told him.

“What?”

“You asked me if I’d want this to happen too. My answer is yes.” You said and looked into his eyes. Peter smiled now that he knew you felt the same but didn’t want to let you off that easy.

“Oh. But then I asked you if you knew how beautiful I found you so I thought you were answering-“

“Shut up.” You laughed as you cut him off. Peter smiled fondly at you from across the kitchen and you felt yourself smile back.

“Do you really feel the same?” He asked, all teasing in his voice gone.

“I do. But I told you, it doesn’t matter what we feel. We can’t date. Ours is a forbidden love.”

“I know. That’s what makes me want you even more.” Peter said with a wicked smile. You stopped leaning on the counter and started to walk to Peter when your dad suddenly walked into the kitchen.

“What are you guys talking about?” Happy asked suspiciously when he noticed the love struck expression on both your faces.

“Dad.” You whined. “Don’t you knock?”

“Knock on what? You’re standing in the middle of the kitchen.” He pointed out. You and Peter exchanged a look, and then you and Happy exchanged a look. Happy looked at Peter and narrowed his eyes, making Peter panic.

“Dinners ready!” Peter shouted despite 75% of the people in the apartment being right in front of him.

“Um, Peter, the pasta is still raw. It’s only been in there a few minutes.” You reminded him.

“Dinner!” Peter said again. “Let’s sit and eat.”

You shrugged and went with it to keep your dad from getting suspicious. You drained the pasta and put it in a big bowl before Peter added the sauce on top. You brought it to the dining table that May had set and put it in the center. Everyone sat down and served themselves some pasta.

“So what’s new with everyone?” Happy asked.

“Nothing.” You and Peter said at the same time. You gave him a look and he gulped nervously.

“Is anything new with you?” You asked May politely.

“Yeah.” Peter nodded. “Talk about yourselves. Tell us everything.”

“Well, um, May and I have been thinking about getting married.” Happy said sheepishly. You spit out your water as Peters jaw dropped.

“Oh.” May smiled tightly. “I didn’t realize we were telling them.”

“Wait, married?” You asked them.

“Yeah. Thinking about it.” Happy nodded as May shook her head.

“But, uh, if you guys got married, what would that mean for us exactly?” You laughed nervously and gestured between you and Peter.

“Well, I’d become Peters uncle, so you guys would technically be cousins.” Happy shrugged as May nodded in agreement. A chill ran down your spine at the use of the “c” word. Peters mouth started to heavily salivate like it usually did before he threw up.

“Cousins?” You choked out.

“Or would they be siblings?” Happy wondered.

“Oh God.” You whimpered. “Not siblings. Anything but siblings.”

“No, just cousins.” May explained. “Because I would become Y/n’s stepmom but Peter isn’t my son so they would be cousins. But you guys could consider each other siblings if you really wanted to. It might be nice to have a sister, right Peter?”

“Stop talking.” Peter said in a grave voice as he gripped the table to keep from fainting again.

“Relax guys. It won’t be too weird. You’re basically cousins already.” May said with an innocent smile.

“Oh no. Don’t say that.” You whispered and clutched your stomach.

“I’m gonna throw up.” Peter said through a gag.

“Why?” Happy asked as he narrowed his eyes at Peter.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t you want to be cousins? It’s just you and me on holidays Wouldn’t it be nice to have a bigger family?” May asked Peter.

“Don’t call us “family”, please.” Peter said and gagged again.

“Yeah, no more.” You pleaded. “Not while we’re eating.”

“Are we missing something?” May asked.

“I don’t want her to be my cousin.” Peter grimaced and shook his head.

“Peter. That’s disrespectful.” May scolded him.

“No, it’s okay. I don’t want him to be my cousin either.” You assured her as you wiped some sweat from your forehead. You looked over at Peter and he was just as distraught if you were. He was pale and sweating and extremely close to breaking. You snapped your fingers at him under the table and motioned for him to keep his mouth shut. May and Happy exchanged a suspicion look at the strange behavior in front of them.

“Is there something you guys aren’t telling us?” May asked and leaned on her hand. She stared at Peter, who looked at you in a panic. You shook your head at him, making Happy frown in confusion. He turned to stare at Peter, and that’s what made Peter break.

“I made out with my cousin.” Peter blurted before gasping for air. You groaned and put your head down on the table as May and Happy reacted.

“You what with your what?” May scrunched her nose in disgust.

“You what with my what?” Happy asked and glared Peter.

“Haha. He’s just kidding.” You laughed nervously and waved your hand.

“He better be.” Happy stated without taking his eyes off Peter. Peter was staring all around the room at everything other than Happy.

“This pasta is amazing. Let’s all eat it and stop talking.” You said and shoved some pasta into your mouth.

“It’s a little undercooked.” May commented. “How long did you guys leave it in the water for?”

“Peter?” Happy asked calmly.

“Yes, sir?” Peter answered while looking up at the ceiling.

“Look at me.”

“Yes?” Peter said and looked near Happy, but not at him.

“Peter, look me in the eyes.” Happy commanded. “Right now.”

“I am.” Peter scoffed as he stared at Happy’s ear.

“Not at my ear. My eyes.”

Peter shut his eyes and turned to face Happy head on.

“Open your eyes.” Happy said through clenched teeth. Peter slowly opened one eye, then the other. Happy was glaring at him with a face redder than the sauce May had made.

“Did you make out with my daughter?”

“Which daughter?”

“The one sitting beside you. The only one I have.”

“I don’t understand the question.”

“Let me ask it again then. Did you or did you not make out with my daughter?”

“No.”

“Okay. Good.” Happy nodded in satisfaction.

“She made out with me.” Peter clarified.

“Peter!” You shouted and looked at him.

“You’re a dead man. He’s a dead man.” Happy declared and lunged across the table at Peter.

“Wait! She kissed me! I didn’t kiss her.” Peter defended himself as he scrambled to get out of his chair and run away from Happy.

“You did the second time.” You pointed out.

“Second time? There was a second time?” Happys voice got louder as he chased Peter around the table.

“Daddy, no. Don’t hurt him!” You protested and stood between your dad and Peter.

“Move it, honey. I’m gonna fight him. I’m gonna fight him up real nice.” Happy declared and grabbed the bowl of Italian bread off the table. He started throwing pieces at Peter, but Peter dodged every one.

“Stop dodging my bread!” Happy shouted and threw his last piece.

“Ha! You’re all out of bread.” Peter pointed at the empty bowl before hiding behind you.

“I’ll just have to use my hands.” Happy said and lunged for Peter again.

“Hold on. Step away from my nephew.” May said as she stepped in front of you and held Happy back. Happy stopped trying to attack Peter and caught his breath.

“Happy, you need to calm down.” May told him. “Your daughter isn’t your property. She’s a beautiful young woman. She is allowed to make her own decisions. And that includes deciding who she wants to date.”

“I know that.” Happy sighed. “She just can’t decide on him.”

“Why not, dad?” You asked him.

“For starters, he rented a very inappropriate movie when we were in Germany. No man who respects women would rent a movie called “Grinding Nemo”. I can’t have a guy like that dating my daughter.”

“I was like 15!” Peter whined. “I just bought the first one I found!”

“Grinding Nemo?” You turned and asked Peter.

“It’s like Finding Nemo but instead of fish it was this guy looking for this girls-“

“I don’t even want to know.” You cut him off.

“Happy, you know Peter.” May reminded him. “You know he’ll stop at nothing to protect the people he cares about. She’s in good hands.”

“But why do they have to be his hands?” Happy pointed to Peter and sat back down. You squeezed Peters shoulder before going to sit down beside your dad.

“May is right. You knew I was gonna start dating eventually. And you also know that Peter is a great guy. You should be glad someone like him turned my head. He’s nice, responsible, smart, respectful, and loved by Uncle Tony. So come on, dad. Let me date my cousin.”

“But Tony asked me to look after him. And I don’t always so the best job. I try, but you know he won’t listen if he has his mind set on doing something. God forbid something had ever happened to him….” Happy trailed off and looked down at the ground.

“You’d be letting down the two most important people in your life.” May finished his sentence with a sad smile.

“Its hard for me to remember you’re not a little girl anymore. I thought I would have more time to prepare for this.” Happy admitted. “And I thought Tony would be here to help me. But you’re just growing up so fast. I can’t keep up.”

“We’re both growing up, dad. But we’re doing it together so it’s less scary.” You told him as you put your hands on his shoulders. Happy smiled fondly at you before looking over your shoulder at Peter.

“Do you really like him?” He asked you.

“I do. He listens to me. And he makes me smile.”

“Gross.” Happy gagged.

“Dad.” You whined. “Stop it.”

Happy sighed and looked up at everyone in the apartment. When his eyes landed on Peter, he got up and went over to him. Peter raised his fists in case Happy tried to attack him again, but Happy lowered them.

“Peter, you have my blessing to date my daughter.” Happy said sincerely.

“You have my blessing too.” May spoke up. “But I don’t love the whole cousin aspect.”

“Me either.” You agreed. “Please never get married so we’re never actually cousins.”

“We were never actually talking about marriage. May just said “Aw” during an allergy commercial that showed a wedding.” Happy admitted.

“So we’re good then? We can date without it being incestuous or forbidden?” Peter asked hopefully and wrapped an arm around you.

“I guess so. Just no PDA in front of me, okay? I don’t need to be reminded of this. Ever.” Happy asked and Peter immediately removed his arm.

“No problem, sir.” Peter replied.

“I’m glad that’s settled. Let’s get back to the family dinner.” You smiled and sat back in your seat. Everyone scrunched their face in disgust and you realized your mistake. Calling it a family dinner now that everyone knew you and Peter had kissed and nearly become cousins made everyone a little queasy.

“I, um, I apologize for my choice of words.”

Tag List 🏷️

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101 @peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @pandaxnienke

 @officialsimppage e @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours

@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @whereismytelephone @leilanixx

@so-very-asleep @veryholland @white-wolf1940 @firwproof-blog

@nowayhomeparker @imobsessedzs @spideyspeaches

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison  

[ravenslvt]

why does your best friend’s brother have to be so hot??

☆ suna rintarou x f!reader (pt.4) ☆

links to pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

cw: porn with feelings, major confessions, lots of fluff, oral sex both m and f receiving, face sitting, suna has feelings.

the silence of the kitchen felt deafening. you and rintarou sat on the stools of the kitchen island counter while his sister stood at the other side, staring at you two. your legs swing, dangling off the tall stool with anxiousness filling your stomach.

“so… you two… have been-“ the younger suna starts.

“ami i-“ her brother speaks first, cutting her off

“shut your ugly mouth rintarou.” she scolds him. you stay silent.

“we literally look the same??” he puts his arms up in defense.

“rin, please stop talking…” you mumble to the middle blocker next to you. he just sighs and slumps in his seat.

ami takes a few breaths before speaking.

“i’m not mad okay…” she fidgets with her manicured nails while she talks.

“i just wish you didn’t feel the need to like, hide it from me, y’know?” she sighs. you two just nod. you felt awful, you two were the people she trusted most in this world.

“you’re right-“ you finally gain the courage to speak, but immediately getting cut off.

“not done talking” she scolds, saying your name in a warning tone. you pipe down.

your best friend’s eyes go to you. for such a cute girl, she sure knew how to make you tense up just from a look. her face softens suddenly.

“so, why did you feel the need to hide it from me? we both know you’re probably the only person i’d be comfortable with even dating my brother.” ami has a sort of frown on your face. it makes you sad the fact you hurt her.

“well we aren’t really even dating…”

“we’re not?” the brown haired man looks at you.

your eyes snap to rintarou.

“no, rin, we only hooked up like four times-“

“FOUR TIMES? it’s only been two weeks?- sorry my bad.” ami puts a hand over her mouth to quiet herself.

“well, yeah, but i was hoping-“

“is this really the time to talk about this right now?” you whisper to the man. he shuts up real quick. you look back to your best friend, giving her a genuine look.

“i’m sorry i hid it from you, ami. i guess we- well i at least was just scared you’d hate me or something. i never intended to lie or hurt you, we just got kinda caught up in it.” you honestly admit. she just nods, then glares at her older brother. “and you” she seethes. his eyes widen at her sudden switch up.

he may be her brother, but he's also a guy, and you are her best friend.

“my best friend? really, rintarou?” her arms are crossed over her chest, eyes boring into her brother’s head. rin sits up straight.

“look, i apologize for not telling you, truly, but i’m not sorry that i did it.” he says, looking back over to you. you drop your face into your hands. the man you loved was such an idiot.

ami sighs and speaks again after a few moments, making your head perk back up.

“i’m not upset. plus, it would be kinda hypocritical of me to be mad at you two.” she finishes, looking at you.

oh right. the miya twin…

rin looks between the two of you.

“um, what do you mean?” he has a curious but anxious look on his face, brows furrowed.

“you wanna tell him or should i?” his sister looks to you in consolance. you point at her. “this is your business, girl. all you”

she lets out an annoyed sigh before speaking, shifting uncomftorably between her feet.

“i’ve kinda been… talking to osamu since i graduated, but you can’t be mad becuase you’re also literally fucking my best friend soo…” ami says all in one breath. rintarou has an unreadable expression on his face.

“well, obviously.” he scoffs. both of your eyes widen.

“you knew?!” she yells in a suprised tone. he just nods.

“well no shit, he’s the one who told me to invite you to the party in the first place. plus i saw your name pop up in his phone when we went to lunch last week.” her brother explains. you just sit back and watch this uncomfortable situation unfold.

he looks at you. “you knew too?” he casually asks. you nod.

“well obviously, she’s my best friend.”

“hear that rin, my best friend” ami sticks her tongue out at her brother. you smile at the shift of the room, going from all serious to a sudden playfulness, the way ami always knew how to do.

“now go to your room or something, i wanna talk to her alone.” she points at the stairs for her brother to leave. he rolls his eyes, patting your head before leaving the room.

a few seconds pass, and she takes his seat, sitting next to you. she swirls the stool around to face you, voice dropping to a hushed tone.

“so… do you love him?” she curiously asks, with genuine curiosity.

“do you love osamu?”

“shut up, i asked first.”

“i do” you say without a second of thought. she just smiles. all anger from before subsiding into genuine happiness.

“you’re still gonna hangout with me though, right?” she asks, back to fidgeting with her fingers. you roll your eyes.

“of course i am. i’m still sleeping in your room everynight till i leave-“ you start.

“oh c’mon, she doesn’t get to hog you!” rintarou yells from the stairs, eavesdropping on your conversation. you both glare at him.

“no one asked you, rin!” she yells. you both laugh at the way he storms back up the stairs.

she'd be having a talk with him later too.

you talk about everything. osamu, the party, your plans in the next week before you leave.

you were relieved, your guilty conscience completely lifted from having to keep this secret from your best friend. you never expected her to approve, but she was happy both her best friend and her brother are able to find comfort.

plus she knew he had a fat crush on you the way he was staring at you the entire party the night before. she was drunk, but not stupid. her brother was so obvious. maybe it was just a suna thing.

but the thought that you gave him all those marks weeks ago made her shiver. gross.

there was only three days left until you go back. you’ve spent your last days going on mall trips, to the movies, taking walks in the park with your best friend. (and rintarou when he refused to stay at home, saying it was for your guys’ ‘protection’)

he just wanted to spend as much time near you before you left.

“stop moving” you warn rintarou, placing the sheet face mask onto his constantly jerking head.

“it’s cold…” he complains. you just roll your eyes.

“you’re the one who wanted to do this.”

“well yeah, because you were doing it.” he pouts. you giggle at him, your own skincare face mask soaking on your face.

ami left for osamu’s about an hour before, but not before giving you guys a ‘do NOT fuck’ warning. you both just smiled and nodded your heads.

“you’re cute.” you give him a small peck on his lips, one of the only parts that the skin care mask wasn’t covering. his hand reaches for your own, lacing his fingers with yours.

“be my girlfriend.” he softly says, his eyes meeting yours. you were glad this sheet mask was covering your face, or he’d see how flustered you were.

“what?”

“do you not want to?” he asks, a hint of concern in his voice.

“well of course i do, but i-“

“be my girlfriend then. please?” he squeezes your hand. if your face wasn’t covered he’d be holding it.

it was kind of silly the seriousness of this conversation compared to the way you guys had literal sheets on your face.

“i live three hours away, rin.”

“so what? i have a car. i’ll drive down every weekend to see you, baby.” he assures you. his eyes read nothing but honesty and love.

“i couldn’t ask you to do that… you're so busy with volleyball”

“you wouldn’t. i want to. if it was up to me i’d keep you here. or even go with you." he chuckles, "i'll pay for your train rides to come to my games, i’m graduating in two years, we’ll figure it out.” you could see his small smile. his fingers gently brushing over your knuckles.

“okay” you nod.

“okay?” his eyes light up.

“yes” you laugh, he stands up from his chair, leaning down to kiss you, but you two couldn’t do much with these stupid sheet masks.

“take this shit off i wanna kiss you” he rips his own off his face making you pout.

“you’re supposed to leave them on for ten minutes”

“i don’t care, they were like a dollar each” he scoffs, gently peeling your own soft wet mask from your face. he was the one who went into the makeup store with you earlier to purchase them in the first place.

“what a money waster.” you smile up at him. the skincare residue making your and his skin shiny. he couldn’t lie, your guys’ skin looks fantastic.

he grabs your face, finally giving you a real kiss. your lips meet sweetly. you’ve kissed several times by now, but this time was different. it was full of tenderness and love instead of the usual rushed tension.

it was like you have all the time in the world.

his hand reaches in your hair, deepening the kiss. you sigh when his tongue rolls together with your own. your hands plant at his chest, you could feel his muscles through his shirt.

he snakes his free hand around your waist, bringing you to press against him.

you felt your panties dampen when his hand slides down from your waist, to your hips, to your ass.

“so…touchy” you mumble between kisses. he just smiles.

“you make me like this” he replies, gently biting your lip.

your hands go up to tangle in his own hair, tugging slightly to tease him. he just groans.

“c’mere, baby.” he sits on his bed, reaching his arms out to you. you join him, hopping onto his lap and kissing his face.

“wow, your skin is really smooth…” your hand goes to gently caress his face. he leans into your palm like a cat, making you giggle.

his eyes never leave yours, so full of sincerity and love.

“want you to touch me, rin.” you bring his hand to your lower stomach. he just chuckles.

“now who’s the needy one?” he mumbles, kissing you again before his hand slips into the waistband of your pants into your panties, his middle and index fingers finding your clit.

“this wet just from kissing?” he chuckles at you, making you pout.

“m’sorry” you whisper, stuttering when his fingers rub gently at your sensitive bud.

“don’t be sorry, pretty. it’s hot.” he smiles, pulling you back to shimmy your cute pants down your hips. you help him, throwing them on the floor of his room.

you’re left in your his oversized t shirt and your panties, moving to sit on him on the bed, but he stops you. you give him a questioning look.

“wanna try something.” he lays himself on his bed, propping himself up on his elbows to look at you.

“want you to sit on my face.” he cheekily smiles, your eyes widen, but your insides tingle at the thought of it.

“i don’t wanna hurt you…” you nervously gulp. he scoffs.

“i could lift three of you if i needed to. i’ll be fine, sweetheart.” he assures. you reluctantly climb on the bed, still a little scared you were going to suffocate him. like he reads your mind, he speaks.

“if dying by your pussy is where i’m meant to die, it’ll be an honorable death.” this makes you roll your eyes, peeling off your underwear. before you could throw them to the side, rin snatches them, tucking them in the drawer next to his bed.

“hey!” you scold him. he rolls his eyes.

“need something to remind me of you.” his smug smirk made you want to slap him, but also want to kiss him. you opted for the second option. your tongue’s swirling together in a needy messy kiss.

he pulls back, laying himself back on his bed. you let out a breath, crawling up to him and nervously straddling his face with your thighs, facing his legs.

you gasp when he pulls your hips down to seat yourself on his face, his hot tongue swiping over your slick cunt. your face screws into tight pleasure as his tongue prods into your tight hole, making you grind down into his face.

his strong hands hold your hips down as if you were hoping to escape. your eyes flutter open while his tounge switches between playing with your clit and proding into your weeping hole.

your mouth waters at the sight of his erection begging to be released through his sweatpants. poor guy was grinding up into nothing. you lean down, reaching to rub him through his pants, making him groan into your pussy.

you hurriedly push his pants down his hips, along with his boxers. he was so tall you couldn’t reach your mouth to his cock in this position, making you pout. so instead you take your hand and stroke his veiny cock, his moans being muffled by him sucking on your clit.

you pump his cock, using the slick of the precum beading at his tip to lubricate him. his hips stutter into your hands as your finger runs over his tip, the slit of his dick leaking precum over your fingers. fuck how badly you wanted to lick it up.

you moan when his tongue explores your soaking pussy, your hands continuing to tease his raging cock. the tip bright pink from all your teasing.

“feels so good, baby, fuck!” you whine, your hips instinctively rutting into his face. he moans in acknowledgment, urging you to keep touching him while he eats you out like you were his last meal. his grip on your hips never faltering.

your wrist starts to ache from the constant pumping, but the pure pleasure of him licking and sucking at you was all you could think about.

this position was so fucking good. the way he had nothing to do but eat you out until you were trying to lift yourself off of his face, the pleasure becoming too much.

he pulls you back down in an instant, your constant squirming earning you a harsh suck on your clit, making you whine.

“rinn-“ you mewl, your thighs starting to quiver around his head. you’re panting, the strokes on his cock getting quicker and messier.

“f-fuck… keep doing that and m’gonna cum, baby.” he groans into your wetness. you let go, hands gripping at his abs as you feel yourself become undone.

your hips grind uncontrollably into rintarou’s mouth, heat pooling into your lower belly as you feel yourself clench around nothing, the feeling of him suckling at your clit making you cum all over his mouth.

you let out moans of his name, panting before finally moving off of him to let him breathe.

you move yourself between his legs, looking up at him. his lower face was covered in your cum and he was breathing heavily. you licked your lips at the sight, bringing your attention back to his raging cock.

you smile up at him, giving his member small pecks, making his breath stutter.

“want you to cum in my mouth, rin.” you look up at him through your lashes, tongue delving into the slit of his head, making his hips sputter and hands grip in your hair.

you giggle, swirling your tongue around the head before taking him into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down. he lets out dirty groans and grunts, his grip in your hair only getting tighter and tighter.

he knew he was gonna cum soon, already being so worked up from you jerking him off before. that along with you cumming all over his face just a few moments before.

his hips jerk off the bed with a loud groan when you take him as deep as your throat allows you, hands gripping into his strong thighs. you moan when his salty cum shoots down your throat, practically filling your mouth. you swallow it all, only a dribble falling past your lips, swollen and wet.

once he settled, you pulled off of him with a small pop, a string of cum and spit connecting your lips and his cock. you could feel his piercing gaze on you, his grip on your hair turned into soothing strokes.

you hold back a giggle at the way he looked at you with full admiration in his eyes. like you were the most precious thing he'd ever seen. he pulls you up, immediately connecting his lips with yours. the way you both tasted each others releases made you sigh into his mouth.

you laid on his chest, kissing eachother gently. you pull back, smoothing down his hair.

he speaks first, your name coming off the tip of his tounge like a beautiful hum.

“i love you” he breathes out, his eyes searching your own. your heart quickens in your chest.

“you don’t have to say it back-“ he starts.

“no. i love you, rintarou.” you confess, leaning to kiss his cheek. he gives you an uncharacteristically loving smile. you’d never seen him in this sort of light before.

your mind completely avoiding the fact that in three days time, you’d be hours away, long gone from here.

“you guys didn’t fuck, right?” ami scolds, eyeing you two as you three ate the dinner she so graciously brought home for you.

“nope. on our best behavior.” rin responds, giving your thigh a squeeze under the table.

well, technically he wasn’t lying.

masterlist

a/n: ‘i have plans that i cannot share w you right now, because the haters will sabotage me’ wink wink. only planning one or two (maybe even three) more parts of this *cries*

☆ taglist: @jennasquishy8 @nekee-lilac02 @riiceandsoup ☆

[luveline]

Hi jade if you’re doing requests I’d love to see how prince Steve and his soulmate are doing after the wedding

prince!steve soulmate au —you’re sick from stress and Steve's adoring as always. fem, 1k

“Hello.” 

You nod dazedly from your bed. “Hello, husband.” 

Steve leans on the door, a bouquet against his chest. “Are you feeling any better? At all?” 

“Yeah.” You’re lying, but it doesn’t matter —your hoarse voice betrays you. You sound as sick as you had yesterday and the day before. It is putting a real dampener on the honeymoon. 

He puts his bouquet down on the dresser, the big white petals of its lilies drooping past the cellophane to kiss the drawers. You focus too much on that detail and startle when he sits on the bed. 

“You had everything you needed while I was gone?” he asks, hair falling into his eyes. 

You raise your hand, smiling softly as he leans forward, allowing you to fix it out of his eyes. He’s terrifying this close to you, absurdly pretty, absurdly yours, a golden ring on his finger and a furling white light turning pink braceleting his wrist. He’s very much the prince he was when you met, but now he is your prince, and that’s a strange thing to come to grips with, worse when you’re so achingly sick. 

“Hey?” he prompts. “You have everything?” 

“The serfs won’t leave me alone,” you complain worriedly. It hasn’t been nice to have them coming in and out all day. “I try to sleep and they wake me up coming inside. Sorry, I’m not– I’m complaining, I’m–” You rub your headache. “I should be grateful–”

“You’re allowed to complain about that!” he says, grinning. “God, I want you to! I’ll tell them to stop coming in, I just thought you’d probably die in your sleep while I was gone.” 

You lean back into your pillows with a wince. “You sure?” 

“Am I sure?” He holds your arm with both of his hands. “I’ve just sent the maids in to harass you for six hours when you’re sick as a dog and you’re asking if you’re allowed to be mad.” He rubs your arm with his thumbs. “I’m sorry. Do you want to sleep now? I won’t let anybody come in.” 

“No, um,” —you clear your throat— “I did– I missed you. I want you to tell me about the meeting.” 

“Yeah?” he asks softly. 

You have the feeling you’re being doted on. “Did Robin go?” 

“Let me just set us up and I’ll tell you. Okay?” 

You nod your agreement. Steve kisses the back of your hand absentmindedly and stands.

He shuts the curtains to hide the sunshine, clears away the jargon of the holoscreen against the wall, and closes the door. The room is big and the mess you’ve made since you fell ill the night of your wedding is expansive, taking ages to clean. By the time he’s done all this, you’re dozing again with the blanket pulled up to your nose. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, climbing into bed beside you. A kiss is placed on the edge of your eyelid. “You can sleep. We’ll talk about things when you’re feeling better.” 

“No, please tell me about today,” you croak. 

“Nothing really happened,” he says, up on one elbow, looking down at you lovingly. “They asked me when we’d begin our tour now we’re married.” His voice grows softer as he leans down, eyes on your lips. “I’ve asked for it to be pushed back. So they’ll wait until we’re ready.” 

“Mm. And news from the west?” 

“None.” He holds your face. “Sorry, you’re distractingly pretty today.” 

“Stop it.” 

“You are,” he says. He sounds playfully smug, or maybe he’s not playing at all. His tone is wry all the same, that slight fry that might make you pop a knee if you weren’t already wed. “I’m sorry you got so sick. I knew the wedding was going to be too much for you. I should’ve looked after you better.” 

“You didn’t make me sick.” 

“But the stress made it worse. I know it did.” 

“You shouldn’t believe everything the head doctor says. She made you eat dandelions for depression.” 

“I know, I was there,” he says, smiling down at you, eyes like dark dimes. “But she also recommended more fencing, and that did make me feel better.” 

You turn your face to the side and curl a tentative arm around him. “Can I have a hug?” you ask, and then, when he’s given you an enthusiastic yes and pulled you onto his chest, “I can nearly forget I’m sick.” 

“I can’t. You sound full of it, sweetheart.” Sweetheart said soft and quiet as a secret. Like he’s sorry and adoring at once. 

“It’s in my face.” 

“We’ll go to the sauna together later and clear you out.” 

Together? In your skivvies? If the sickness doesn’t kill you, the sauna with Steve alone certainly will. “I can’t tell if you’re being mean to me on purpose.” 

“Why would I do that? I like you. An embarrassing amount, I–” He clears his throat. 

You’re not sure what he would have said, but you like him too; you dive in to save him. “You’re like that, Steven, you mess with me.” 

“No, don’t start the Steven stuff again, I like it much more when you call me Steve. Remember when we first met, you’d only call me your prince? And you definitely wouldn’t have let me hold you.” 

“Don’t say it like that,” you plead through a nervous laugh. 

“Am I saying something wrong?”

He’s murmuring, nearly flirting —is it flirting if you’re married?— his arms threaded around you, his hair tickling your cheek as he leans down. “Not wrong…” Your eyes widen as he closes in. 

“Would a kiss make you feel any better?” 

“I’ll make you sick.” 

“Shouldn’t you? I’ve vowed to be with you in anything, haven’t I? In sickness…”

You hold your breath as his fans over your lips. 

“Just one?” he whispers.

“As many as you want,” you whisper back. “Just don’t get mad at me if you’re sick next week, Steve.”

“Never.” 

[rogueddie]

Peppermint Heartache T | 734 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is the tea he brings me without prompt when I’m sick

Eddie isn't sure the last time he was sick, but he's sure that it didn't feel like this.

"You sure you're ok, kid?" Wayne asks, hovering in his doorway.

"Yeah, 'm'kay," Eddie manages to mumble out. He struggles to raise an arm, giving him a weak thumbs up.

"Alright," Wayne relents, but Eddie can hear how little his attempt has done to reassure him. "I'll try to get home as early as I can. Make you some nice soup. Sound good?"

"Sounds great."

After he hears the door click shut behind Wayne, he's not sure how much time passes. He stays where he is, slipping in and out of a light doze.

The light knocking at the door startles him awake, though it's soft and quiet enough that it doesn't pound in his head.

He plans on ignoring them, but they knock again after waiting for a moment.

Pulling his bed sheets around him, tucking it up to his chin, he shuffles out. He squints at the light when he cracks the door open, frowning.

"Steve?"

"Hi Ed," he says, speaking softly. He raises the tupperware he's holding. "Heard you weren't feeling well so I made you some broth."

"Wayne sent you?" Eddie asks, stepping back so Steve can come inside.

"Yeah. He's really worried about you." Steve pauses, stepping closer and pressing his hand to Eddies forehead. "Do you have any, like, medicine? Some tylenol? You're too warm."

He tries to explain where it is, but he's interrupted by a yawn. He's not sure that Steve understands him for a moment, until he's being gently herded to the bathroom.

Steve quickly closes the toilet lid so Eddie can sit, before rooting through the bathroom cabinet.

"Aha!" He says, pulling out a bottle. He shakes it, frowning when only one tablet rattles inside it. "Damn. I'll need to grab you another bottle. Hopefully this one will be enough. Should I grab you a glass of-"

"No, it's fine," Eddie mutters, grabbing the tablet and swallowing it dry.

"Gross. Anyway, how are you feeling? Do you want some food now? Or, like, Wayne said you have chicken soup if you'd prefer that- I just... broth always makes me feel better when I'm sick. Or I could-"

"Steve. All I want to do is lay back down for a while. Maybe have some company, if you're not busy. Sound good?"

"Yeah, that sounds good," Steve sighs, smiling sheepishly. "Should we-"

Eddie is already up, shuffling back to his bed. He flops onto it, curling onto his side. He grumbles when Steve starts to tuck in the sheets, but makes no move to stop him.

He ends up completely cocooned, the only his face sticking out.

Steve sits on the floor, back to the wall. "Do you want me to be quiet?"

"Uh, yeah, kinda. Love the Buckley style rambling but, um... I don't know. I don't like being alone when I feel like this."

"No, I get that. I'm happy to sit here and make sure you're ok, don't worry. I'm comfortable."

"If you're sure..."

"I am."

With Steve sitting guard, it's easy to finally fall asleep. And, by the time he wakes back up, he's already starting to feel better. He feels well rested, at least.

He notices Steves absence immediately, finally crawling out his cocoon to go looking for him.

"What are you doing up?" Steve asks, when Eddie finally finds him in the kitchen. "Go, I'll be back in a moment, you need to rest."

Eddie, rolling his eyes, does what he asks. Though he does grumble complaints under his breath the whole way back.

"You couldn't wait five minutes," Steve continues, when he finally comes back to Eddies room, holding a steaming mug and bowl. "Here, I cooked your broth and made you some tea."

"Thanks."

"No problem. Wayne says hi, by the way. He's probably going to be late coming home, too, so I'm stuck here babysitting."

Eddies about to make a comment, when he finally gets a whiff of the tea. He takes a sip to confirm it.

"Is this peppermint?"

"Yeah. You said you like it."

"I didn't think you'd remember."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You can't keep doing this, Steve, I'll fall in love with you."

Steve laughs, ducking his head, cheeks flushing. When he looks up, smirking, a glint in his eyes, Eddie knows he's already doomed.

"Promise?"

[bloodmoonmuses]

stray cats, cold spaghetti | mark lee

genre: mark lee x reader, meet cute, friends to lovers (this is unedited, so forgive any typos! happy valentine's day!)

warnings: mentions of food!

summary: your cat introduces you to your new friend, mark. he's a bit more similar to an actual cat than you initially realized.

You didn’t understand the attachment people had to their pets until this stupid cat showed up. She was a stray, with mangled fur and callous eyes, who popped up some months ago. You had checked for any postings about missing pets, and even asked a few of your neighbors, but no one claimed the ratty thing. It’s not that you disliked animals entirely- you’re not a sociopath. You just aired more on the side of nonchalance. 

The cat could sense this, ever since the first time you two crossed paths. You remember that night so vividly. You couldn’t sleep. You laid on your couch, staring at the ceiling, hoping slumber would whisk you away sooner than later. Just as your eyes began to flutter shut, you heard whining. Visceral, pained whining. At first, you tried to ignore it, but when you heard a sound that suspiciously sounded like a young child, you figured it’d be better to survey the situation just in case. When you opened your door to a begging cat, you sighed. Damn the neighbors for feeding this thing. Now she thinks she owns the place. 

“I bet you’re hungry, huh.” The cat bore into you with bright green eyes, tilting its head as if to say, “Duh!”

So you re-entered your home, Googled “What human food can cats eat?”, and came back with canned tuna and half a carrot. The brat looked right past the carrot and inhaled the tuna, this being its first real meal of the day. In between scarfing down food, the gray cat looked at you inquisitively. “Any more where that came from?” her eyes said. She sidled up next to your leg, purring and rubbing her head against it. 

“That’s all I got,” you had confessed. 

You named her June, since that’s the month she came into your life. Now, you’re best friends. June is actually pretty chill. She likes watching movies with you and, strangely, likes going on walks. After getting her groomed, she’s kinda cute too. You hated to admit it, but you love June. You imagine this is how people felt about their kids- without the initial reluctance of course. June comes and goes as she pleases as if she’s still a stray, but always comes back by dinner time. 

When June isn’t back at her usual time one day in October, you get a bit nervous. She never does this. Before breaking out into a full out panic, you remember she’s got a collar and a tracker from the vet now. No biggie. Opening the app that’s connected to June’s tracker, you meander down the path you usually walk with her when it’s warmer out. When you’re a few blocks from your place, you see her, relief flooding your system. Then you realize there’s a man petting her.

“Junie! June!” You run up to her, taking her into your arms. You snuggle her into a tight embrace, planting a kiss on her head. You’re so caught up in your reunion with June that you forget about the stranger standing in front of you. Oh yeah. You should probably say something. His hair is somewhere in between auburn and brown, making his face look incredibly warm. You hold June a bit tighter.

“Cute cat,” the stranger says. His voice is a bit hoarse. “Thought she was a stray before I saw the collar.” Um, okay? June’s a little rough around the edges, but she’s clearly cared for. 

“Yeah, she’s mine. Do you, like, follow strays around in your free time?” you ask with a bite to your tone. 

“Do you let your pet wander around like a stray in your free time?” Fair, you think, but still rude.

“She’s a free spirit,” you contest. 

“So you let her wander.” 

“This is the first time she hasn’t come home for dinner. Our relationship is built mostly on my ability to provide her food- which works for me.” You’re not sure why you’re explaining your relationship with your cat. Who cares what this guy thinks?

June jumps out of your arms, back to the ground, and walks up to the stranger’s legs. He bends down to resume petting her. From his crouched stance, he looks into your eyes. The eye contact makes you shiver.  

“She’s sweet,” he says. “What’s her name?” 

“June. She’s a charmer- and incredibly manipulative. She probably thought she could swindle you out of some food.”

“Do I look easy to take advantage of?” He asks.

You assess him. Oversized hoodie, baggy pants, sneakers covered in scuffs... Maybe he’s a dancer. Or skateboards. You’d be into that, you think. Skater boys weren’t really your thing, but they could be- as long as it’s him. If anything, the guy just looks… cozy, all bundled up like this. There’s a tinge of red on the tip of his nose from the nippy air. He’s smirking to himself at his (flirtatious) question, making his cheek look plump. You want to pinch it. 

You want to make him as warm as his eyes make you feel. 

You realize you’ve probably been staring. Geez, what was his question? Oh yeah. “Yeah. Like a pushover,” you say. “In the best way, of course.”

“Ouch.”

“Only a real sap would fall victim to June’s powers. She can sense lackeys. No offense.” 

“I’m gonna choose to believe that means you think I’m a nice guy.”

“Nice enough.”

“I’ll take it.” The two of you stand in awkward silence for a few moments, June having finally grown bored of her new friend. The guy stands from his crouching position and sways a bit as he awaits your next move.

“Well, like I said, this little lady was late for dinner. So if it’s okay with you,” you pick up June, then continue your thought, “We’ll be heading out.” 

As you turn to walk back home, the stranger says, “I… didn’t catch your name, by the way.” 

Right. You introduced June, but not yourself. Go figure. “Oh. I’m ___.” 

“Cool. I’m Mark.” He looks like a ‘Mark’-boyish and chipper.

“Nice to meet you, Mark. Well, have a nice night.” You start to walk again, but Mark interjects yet again.

“The sun’s setting,” he blurts it out like he’s trying to rid his mouth of the words as quickly as possible. “Can I walk you home?” Then he amends, “I live nearby, so I know it gets kinda dark in this neighborhood. Not many street lights.”

You think about it. You’re not getting any serial killer vibes, plus he’s already passed the June test. (And if you're being honest, he's very cute.) “Um, sure. Thanks.”

The two of you walk in silence, save for June’s purring. When you make it to your apartment building, you stop. Your gut is twisting, mind fixating on the warmth radiating off Mark’s body. Your fingertips are whirring with electricity. You have a bad idea. 

“Would you maybe… wanna come in for dinner?” Mark turns to look at you.  “I never really learned how to cook for one person, so I always have a bunch of leftovers.” 

It’s a lie, but not entirely. You like to cook enough food for the entire week. Mark doesn't need to know this, you conclude.

Mark nods to himself. “Uh, sure. I could eat.”

As soon as you place June down in your apartment, she sprints to her food bowl. Silly girl. 

“Sorry about the mess. Wasn’t expecting company,” you say. “I hope you like spaghetti.”

“Love it,” Mark responds. (You’d later find out this was a lie.)

“Perfect.”

That’s how you and Mark became friends- similarly to how June came into your life. You fed him. In all honesty, he wasn’t that fond of your spaghetti. He just liked the way you smiled each time he took a bite. The two of you continued to get to know one another while making food. Neither of you are great cooks, so you usually team up. It’s become a love language of sorts, sending recipes back and forth to try. You look forward to eating with Mark more than anything these days.

You’re more than aware of your underlying feelings for Mark, but you’ve managed to temper them. You don’t want to scare him off, but the tension is relentless. You’re making tiramisu and your shoulders touch. You’re piping flowers on a cupcake while Mark pulls tendrils of hair away from your face. You’re whisking meringue into stiff peaks while Mark hums to June in the living room. It’s heart achingly domestic. 

Oftentimes you imagine Mark as your husband. In your daydreams the two of you are wearing matching aprons, flour dusting his nose. He kisses you, a fit of giggles attacking your system. You’re absolutely smitten and unabashedly so.

 In reality, today is Valentine’s Day. Mark suggests he comes over and makes pizza. You don’t think Mark realizes what day it is until you suggest making your pizzas heart shaped. He says he forgot to buy his friend Jaehyun a birthday gift.

“This is, like, kinda romantic.” If being covered in pizza sauce and flour is romantic, then yes. This was very romantic. You have a nice spread here-  fresh basil, mozzarella, alfredo sauce, vodka sauce, roma tomatoes… It smells so nice. Mark keeps sneaking chunks of cheese into his mouth. He looks like a little mouse. June is fast asleep on the couch. You’ve finally perfected the heart shape of your dough, and begin to spread alfredo sauce on your pizza. 

“Your parameters for romance are very strange, Mark Lee.”

“If you close your eyes, it’s like we’re in Italy.” When he says things like this, they only fuel your daydreams. You blame the flush of your face on the preheating oven.

“Venice, I hope.”

“Of course.”

Mark’s pizza looks more like an anatomical heart than the kind you’d doodle in a notebook. He scoffs when you tell him this, feigning offense.

“Should I remind you of how your cinnamon rolls came out a few weeks ago?” They were awful. At a certain point, you had given up and rolled them into balls. 

“My cinnamon rolls/balls were innovative and transcendent.” 

“I don’t even know how you messed them up,” Mark says as he puts the pizzas in the oven, “We bought pre-made dough.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

When the pizzas are done baking, the two of you sit at the dinner table. It’s a different feel for the two of you, seeing as you usually eat together on the couch.  You take a bite of your pizza, savoring the taste.

“Not bad. Wanna taste?” Mark nods. Instinctively, the two of you swap plates, trying each others’ creations.

“I think you’re better at making savory foods.”

“I agree.”

You and Mark continue to eat your pizzas, taking gulps of your respective drinks in between bites. Beer for Mark, white wine for you. Jazz plays softly from your shitty phone speaker, and June’s snores fill in the gaps of silence. After a bit, Mark’s face goes red from the alcohol. You liked seeing him tipsy. He gets all wavy and fluid, unconsciously swaying side to side like a daisy in the wind. Your face feels fuzzy from the wine and you find yourself biting your tongue. 

You’ve had to be more conscious of your alcohol intake around Mark lately. It felt as if at any moment, your love for him would simply become unbearable. Recently, it’s been hard to just look at him- even while sober. Tonight, apparently, you threw caution to the wind. 

“Mark?” you say.

“Hmm….”  He’s drifting away, lethargic from the food and beer. You repeat his name again, this time getting his full attention. When his glassy eyes meet yours, the force behind them knocks the wind out of you.

“Yes?” says Mark. He takes another sip of beer. 

You can’t do this, you think, backtracking entirely. The lie escapes as a garbled mess of words: “Forgot what I was gonna say.” You take a nervous gulp of your wine.

Mark slams his fist on the table, in a drunken stupor. The sound startles you, but there’s no malice behind his motion. In fact, he’s laughing to himself. “Bullshit.”

“I really did lose my train of thought. Maybe it’ll come back to me.”

“I know you’re lying. Like you lied about that cold ass spaghetti you used to lure me in!” he says, referencing the night you met. The spaghetti wasn’t that cold…

“I really did make too much spaghetti that night! Plus, you kept June safe. It was the least I could do!” 

Mark begins to gather your plates and cups, walking over to the kitchen to place them in the sink. As he stands, he says, “I won’t force you to say it, but I know you’re lying.” 

Then he moves to run the faucet. The rushing water fills the silence like TV static, buzzing and itching in your ears. Your throat is burning. You want to talk to him openly, honestly- but something’s stopping you. Mark washes the dishes wordlessly. With his back turned to you, his words hang heavy in the air. Mark never pries but simultaneously knows you so intimately. You love being known by him. You love knowing him. 

You simply love him.

“Why’d you walk me home that night?” Your voice barely pierces the air. The question practically squeaks out of you.

“What?” Mark turns off the facet and dries his hands on a towel, turning to look at you.

“The night we met. Why’d you walk me home?”

He contemplates the question for a moment, closing his eyes to visualize the night. Then he says, “Wanted to make sure you got home safely.” 

The moment is delicate and fragile. You’re scared that if not nimble enough, if not cradled with the utmost gentleness, it will shatter. You proceed with caution.

“Mark?” At the sound of his name, Mark returns to his seat at the dining table.

“I think… I love you.” Mark chuckles. “Don’t laugh!”

“You think?” he says, now breaking out into a full-bodied laugh.

“Yeah. I think so.” 

“I love you too.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “...I think.”

“Very funny, asshole.” 

Mark reaches over the table and places a chaste kiss upon your lips. “Okay, I think I’m a little more sure now,” he says.

“Need some more reassurance?” you ask. Mark nods. 

You lean in to kiss him this time, and just before your lips touch, you hear whining. You pull back to look down, seeing June curled up beneath your chair. Her timing is always impeccable. The two of you giggle, sealing the moment with a fervent kiss. You melt into his touch, the elation coursing through your veins. When you come up for air, you meet Mark’s eyes.  

“What?” he says. “I’m a better kisser than you thought?” 

“I was just wondering… you’re still gonna wash the dishes, right?”

[mypoisonedvine]

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 5.2k (including intro)

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut (18+ only), enemies to lovers, sub!neil/dom!reader, slightly dubious consent?, orgasm control/denial, praise and degradation, oral sex m receiving, come eating, riding, a touch of breeding kink, semi public sex

do NOT read this until you have read the FIRST PART or it won't make any damn sense!!

"So, whaddya say, Mr. Lewis?"

"I say… suck my dick," he returned with a smug smile.

You just laughed.  "Maybe I would if I thought you could last more than thirty seconds."

His face got a little redder as he glanced away.  "Seriously?  You think I'm that helpless?"

You shrugged.  "I think I'm that good."

He looked at your face for a moment, a certain look in his eyes— a look that made it seem like he wanted to take you up on the challenge.  “Of course you do,” he smirked, “guys probably tell you you’re funny, too.”

“Sometimes,” you agreed, “but I’m not joking now.”

He stiffened up a bit.  “I don’t have a stamina problem,” he assured.

"If you're so confident, let's bet on it," you offered.  "I’ll blow you, and if you last thirty seconds or less, I'm buying the place.  More than that, you'll never have to see me again."

“Jesus,” he sighed, avoiding your gaze for a moment.  “Is that really how you make a deal?”

“It’s one way we could make this deal,” you returned, “and it sounds like a lot more fun than all the other ways.”

“You have an unfortunate habit of overestimating yourself,” he noticed.

“Then this should be easy for you.”

He hesitated, laughing nervously, but you stared forward so he knew you were serious.  After a tense pause, in which he opened and shut his mouth a few times as if nearly saying several different things, he sighed a bit.  “O-okay, yeah,” he relented, and you had to fight back a smile— not because you were actually that excited to suck some random video store owner’s dick… but because you were pretty confident that you just bought yourself some prime real estate and that promotion you’d been gunning for.  “S-so, um, how do we—?”

You cut him off by pushing him back into his chair with a grin, already loving the slight look of desperation on his face as he looked up at you.  "Let me get a little more comfortable first," you explained as you slipped your blazer off and tossed it aside.  

Then the shirt— one button at a time, not too slowly but without any sense of urgency.  “Y-you don’t have to do all that,” he promised thinly.

“Be patient,” you encouraged with a wink, “I just can’t afford for you to… stain any of this.  I have to go back to the office today, you know.”

He nodded a little in understanding, his chest filling and sinking a little more with each breath as he watched you strip.  For something you’d managed to spin as practical, you were doing it with a bit of… flair, slowly pulling the shirt off your shoulders and dropping it to the floor as his eyes were glued to your chest.  Of course, it helped that this bra wasn’t exactly ‘practical’ either… you only let your eyes drop for a second to the growing bulge in his jeans.

You started to push your skirt down, watching his eyes follow the fabric as more skin was revealed, only to tug it back up just before you got anywhere too exciting.  "Or maybe I should leave this on," you decided, making him whine and look up at your face pleadingly.

"C-c'mon," he panted.

"Maybe if you ask nicely…" 

He hissed in a breath through his teeth.  "Please…" he whispered.

"Hm?"

"Please take it off," he sighed, and you smirked at the way his hips jumped up a bit as you pushed it down to reveal your matching panties.  “Fuck,” he choked, “you dressed up like that just to come here?”

You shook your head.  “I had other plans today,” you offered cryptically, and if he was going to ask more questions about that, he forgot them when you stepped out of the skirt and right up to where he was sitting.  “Should I leave these on?” you asked as you ran a finger along the top of your thigh-high stockings, seeing him struggle to form a thought as he looked at them and then back up at you.

“Y-yeah, maybe… maybe leave those on,” he breathed, “the floor might be cold.”

“Oh,” you cooed, “you’re such a gentleman.”

You knelt down in front of him, rubbing your hands up his thighs through the jeans as he swallowed thickly.  Each time you slid your hands over his legs, you moved a little higher, until you were just barely brushing over the bulge under his fly.  You bit your lip and looked up at him, savoring the nervous expression he was wearing.

You opened the button of his jeans, and took your time with the zipper; you giggled a bit when you felt his cock flex, even through all the layers of clothing.  

“You’ve thought about this before, haven’t you?” you teased in a soft voice.

“N-no,” he denied.  

“Really?  You never wanted me on my knees in front of you?” you pressed.

“Well, that’s sort of a different question,” he breathed, whining slightly under his breath when you got his fly open and reached in to rub him through his boxers.  “Oh, t-take it out,” he instructed, but you just laughed.

“Let me do this my way,” you replied, and he seemed to realize then that you were teasing him on purpose, to make his side of the bet all that more difficult.  It would’ve been reasonable for him to call you out on your cheating, but he was too busy reaching forward to feel your tits through the bra; he groaned a little, squeezing them eagerly.

You did take it out, of course, after barely a minute of teaching him through the fabric, and you bit your lip as you wrapped your fingers around his warm, firm length.  It was a little bigger than you bargained for, but you weren’t exactly worried— after all, you were going to make sure you didn’t have to do this for very long.

Licking your lips as you stroked it— and trying to make it look like an instinctive move rather than a deliberate choice— you watched him as he stared down at your face and then your hand, a drip of clear precum already leaking from the slit.  You hummed as you picked up your pace a little, still mostly just exploring him, but squeezing him in your palm too just to watch him squirm a bit.

You leaned in and gave it one long lick, with just the tip of your tongue, all the way from the base to the head, and he hissed a little with his next breath as he stared down at you.  You hummed at the slightly salty taste as you lapped up the thin arousal, and his chest sank with a long breath.

"Okay," you smiled, "you can start counting now."

"O-one," he choked out, voice getting thinner as you wrapped your lips around him and bobbed your head.  After all that teasing, you had to be efficient for the next thirty seconds: you sucked hard and stroked with one hand while the other slowly rubbed his balls, hoping to give him the full treatment and make this quick.  "Two, three—"

You pulled back but kept stroking him.  "Not so fast," you scolded, "look at your watch."

"Sorry, fuck, um," he groaned, glancing at his watch to try to keep the correct time.  "Two… three… four…"

Your spit was running down to smooth your hand's movements, and he groaned as he started to buck up into your mouth.  His hands held your head, fingers tangling into your hair as you kept going.

"Five, six— oh god," he moaned, head tilting back for a second… but when he looked at you again, you looked up and met his gaze.  He bit his lip, already breathing heavily as he watched you.

He never forced your head down, really, but you could feel him trying to guide you, trying to make you move a little faster and take him a little deeper.  You could do that— you moaned around him as you pretended to let him take the lead, figuring that was what he needed to feel in control right now.  But as soon as you did, he tightened his grip on your hair and tried to slow you down… and you wondered if he was already realizing this bet might have been a little out of his pay grade.

“Ten,” he choked out, groaning as you flattened your tongue more to rub along the underside of his cock.  “Ele—oh, fuck— e-eleven…”

You moaned again, one of his hands slipping down from your hair to the back of your neck, even running over your shoulder and lingering on the strap of your bra.

Speeding up slightly, you tried to subtly twist your hand while you stroked and just keep a steady pace— once you found the right thing, you just needed to stick with it, and something about the hoarseness of his voice as he moaned for you seemed like a sign you’d found the right thing.  “Baby,” he mumbled under his breath, and you had to try not to smile since it would just get in the way of things.  You would definitely not be letting him get away with calling you ‘baby’ if your mouth wasn’t full…

Even you weren’t focused on the numbers anymore, putting all your energy into this as you bobbed your head on him.

“Oh, fuck, fuck!” he yelped when his tip brushed the back of your throat.  “Twenty— oh god…”

Home stretch, just ten more seconds, you thought to yourself, if that… he sounds pretty fucked up.  And it’s not that you hated this so much, it was actually turning you on more than anything to hear him sound so desperate— but you already had your eye on the prize, and you could’ve probably attributed the wetness gathering in your panties to the mental image of telling your boss tomorrow that you finally bought out Gumshoe Video, just as much as what you were actually doing right now.

"Twenty-t-two, twenty-three," he kept going, voice getting a little deeper now, and you wondered with a hint of nervousness if he could really make it— he was flexing in your mouth already, but maybe he could hold it back.

You moved faster, pretty much as fast as you could, and shut your eyes tight as you hoped this would work— you didn’t quite realize it at the time, but you were more motivated to make him come for the sake of it, than for the consequence of owning his store as a result.

“Twenty-eight,” he gasped, and you sucked even harder as desperation started to kick in— but then he choked on a moan, and flexed in your mouth again.  "Stop, stop!" he begged suddenly, and you stilled before pulling away with a smile.

"Can't take it, huh?"

"I just need a second—"

"No, you don't get a second. I already gave you thirty," you reminded him.  “I win.”

“N-no, wait,” he panted, only to open his eyes wide when you stood up and slid into the chair with him, straddling his lap.  He looked up at you in the most adorably pathetic way, his hands shakily coming to rest on your waist.

“It won’t be so bad,” you promised, “we have fabulous benefits, you know.”

He was clearly not paying attention, whimpering as you moved forward and rubbed yourself against him through the thin lace.  “F-fuck, please,” he whispered, and you smirked.

“You wanna fuck me?” you asked, acting totally surprised by it.  “I thought you hated me.”

“Yes,” he sighed, “and yes.”

Grinning, you sat up enough to pull the panties aside and guide him to your entrance, watching him choke on nothing as you teased his head with your slick lips.  

“F-fuck, you’re wet,” he noticed, sounding more proud of himself than you intended him to be.

“I get that way when I’m about to get what I want,” you shrugged, just a moment before sinking down and taking him all in one relatively-quick motion.  He moaned loudly and held on tighter to you, but you gave him no time to rest at all as you moved right away, riding him with a contented sigh and struggling not to openly laugh at his almost-pained expression. 

Obviously, he wasn’t actually in pain, it was just a look of conflict as he realized how badly he wanted to come and how bad it would be if he came right away— but you’d brought him right to the edge, after all, and you watched physical instinct and fleeting logical reasoning battle in his eyes as his eyes watched you bouncing on top of him.

“Fuck,” you moaned softly, humming when his head rubbed right against that spot inside you— you guided your movements to hit it every time, a nice little shiver running over you.  “Fuck, Neil, it’s good…”

He was obviously affected by the praise, and you rocked your hips faster as you watched him struggle even more to hold himself together as his head tilted back against the chair.

"You'd better not come inside me, Neil," you warned sternly.  "If you do… well, let's just say as your new employer, we're proud to offer a rather generous paternity leave."

"Oh god, oh god," he choked, yet holding on tighter to your hips while you moved.

"Not gonna knock up your boss on your first day, are you?" you laughed, reveling in his panic.

"You're not my boss," he panted, "not 'til I sign the paperwork."

"Oh, honey," you purred, "I already own you."

He whined and bit his lip, shutting his eyes tight— but you couldn’t let him run away that easily, you couldn’t let him hide from what was happening to stop himself from coming too fast: so, you took his hands off your hips and guided them up to your chest, all but forcing him to feel your tits again as he moaned louder and obeyed.  “God,” he breathed, “I— I don’t know if I can take much more of this—”

You hummed with a little pout, leaning in and lifting his chin with your fingers.  “Poor thing,” you cooed just before you pressed your lips to his, kissing him hungrily while riding him even faster.

He moaned into the kiss, clearly overwhelmed but still trying to kiss you back.  When his hands moved to your hips again, trying to slow you down, you grabbed them by the wrists and pinned them down to the arms of the chair, making him groan and buck up into you.  

“Just let me use you, baby,” you breathed against his lips, making him whimper and nod.  “Y’wanna feel me come, don’t you?  You wanna make me come?”

“Yes,” he groaned, “fuck— yes, please—”

“You can take it, right?”

“God,” he winced, speaking through his teeth as you moved your kiss down to his neck.  “God, fuck— I think I can—”

“I think you can,” you agreed, “you’re gonna be good for me—”

“O-oh, fuck,” he moaned, his cock flexing inside you again when you bit playfully on his neck.  You hoped to leave a mark, thinking it would be funny to make sure he couldn’t hide what had happened— but then again, it might not be the smartest idea… not that any of your decisions in the last five minutes were based on smartness.

Your hips rocked on instinct now, pressure building and twisting inside you until you couldn’t help but drop your head back with a long sigh of pleasure.

“Please come, please come,” he begged in a weak and high-pitched whine, and as much as you were amused by his desperate attempts to get you to finish before he did, you were also pretty into it… as in, it was working.  You’d only been doing this for a few minutes, but you’d had quite a bit of fun sucking him off and, well, he looked so cute begging.

You moaned and moved a little faster, holding on tighter to his wrists.  “Fuck, I’m close,” you promised.

“Oh god, oh god,” he whined, hands tightening into fists as you held them down.  “Baby, please,” he choked, and you smiled as it hit you.  You wondered if watching you come would be enough to send him over the edge.

“Oh fuck, Neil, yes!” you shouted, hoping to give him a show so he wouldn’t be able to help himself.  “Oh my god— so good, baby, you feel so fucking good—”

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he chanted under his breath, shutting his eyes tight— but then opening one a second later and groaning at the sight of you.  

The feeling began to pass as your thighs quivered, your whole body exhausted by the motions just as much as the draining power of your orgasm.  Stilling on top of him, you let go of his wrists and sighed with relief, resting your hands on his chest.  He shuddered, and you pretended to remember that he was waiting to come.  “Oh— do you want me to—?”

“P-please,” he choked.

You pulled yourself up until he slipped out of you, both sighing for slightly different reasons.  You reached down and wrapped your hand around him, laughing softly at how swollen and reddened his tip was— it almost looked painful, and the way he winced when you gingerly stroked him almost sounded painful.

Your free hand stroked his hair as he leaned his head forward against your chest, panting with exhaustion.  “Please, please,” he whispered between breaths, over and over.

“You did good, baby,” you promised him, “you can come now—”

He groaned and did it pretty much instantly, you could feel it running down over your fingers and even getting on his shirt and pants.  You clicked your tongue pityingly as he bucked up into your hand, his face fallen slack in pleasure and weak moans falling from his full lips.

“Poor thing,” you said again, watching him go totally limp under you— and his exhausted cock starting to follow suit— as the last little drip of come ran down over your fingers.  You brought your hand up to your mouth and licked up what had gotten on you, which his sleepy eyes watched in awe.  Before you swallowed, though, you pulled him by the jaw into another kiss— slow and sloppy, feeling him shudder as he tasted his own spend.

When you figured he’d had enough, you suddenly pulled away and slipped off of his lap, putting your panties back in place and starting to pick up the clothes that had scattered on the floor.  You wondered if he would say something, though you couldn’t imagine what, but found yourself a little surprised to be dressing in silence.  Then again, when you looked over at him, he was staring forward blankly and looking absolutely drained— in every sense of the word.

After getting fully dressed— though you figured you still probably looked less composed than when you got here— you slipped back on your heels and wondered if there really was nothing else to say.  “The paperwork will come in the mail,” you informed him simply as you turned to leave, and only then did he reach out and grab your wrist.

“W-wait,” he stammered, “I— I need to know when I’ll see you again.”

You considered that for a second, eventually shrugging.  “I don’t know, I work in acquisitions— once you’re acquired, you’re not really my concern anymore.”

“Really?” he breathed, smiling but seeming sort of frustrated.  “None of what just happened seems… concerning to you?”

You laughed a little, stepping closer to him again as he finally got himself in order— and groaned a little as he realized how bad the stain was on his shirt.  “Neil, my job is pretty simple: I need to make this place profitable.  Or, I need to make you make this place profitable… that’s going to take up all of our spare time.”

“So, if we’re losing money,” he posited, raising an eyebrow, “would you need to come here and… discipline me?”

“Don’t get too excited,” you scoffed.

“Why not?  Shirt’s already ruined.”

“Listen, I know that was… great,” you sighed, “but we should still establish boundar—”

He stood up and cut you off with a kiss, sudden and needy as you sighed against him.  He reached up and held your face, before dropping his hands down your waist and pulling you closer.  You were just about to melt into it when you (mostly) came to your senses and gently pushed him back.

He was looking right into your eyes, a pleading sort of look in them, as you broke away from the kiss.  “Boundaries,” you finished in a whisper.

“Yeah— okay,” he nodded, “I can do boundaries.”

He kissed you again, both of you getting a little more desperate as your arms draped around his shoulders.  It went on for quite some time, your breathing getting heavy again and the softest moans getting muffled by his lips as his body pressed against yours.

You looked up at him expectantly when he pulled back this time, and you bit your lip a little when you realized you were down almost as bad as he was.  “I think I’m gonna like working here,” he announced with a wide smile.

[stevesjockstrap]

Off the Court On the Stage

A Steddie Valentine’s exchange gift for Robin @ghosttotheparty 💕

Rated E • read on ao3 • no UD, modern au strangers to lovers, basketball player Steve & rockstar Eddie

“Look up for me?” Steve looked up, following the medic’s finger. “Do you remember what you ate for breakfast?”

Looking back down, he half nodded. “Uhhh… a burrito, two bowls of cereal, an orange and a protein shake?

The medic’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. Okay. Well, you don’t seem to have a concussion. Take this paper back to the locker room.”

They both stood, Steve a bit unsteadily but he’d felt worse after a hard workout. It was probably nothing.

He got to the door and peered down the grey hallway where both ways looked identical. Someone had walked him here, he hadn’t paid any attention and he didn’t know where the locker room was.

“Um, how do I…?”

The medic was already typing fast into his computer and barely looked up.

“Go left, two hallways down make a right, fourth door on the right,” he rattled off. Steve blinked and took a few steps into the hall. “Your other left.”

Steve huffed and turned, trying to remember his instructions. After he’d turned down another very similar hallway, he knew he was lost.

“Make a right, he said... then fourth door…” he mumbled to himself. He wished there had been anyone to ask.

More confidently than he should’ve been, he threw open the door to his right and walked in.

In front of him, a man with long dark hair was naked, pulling his tight leather pants from a leg.

“Oh! Shit, I’m sorry!”

He continued to stand in the doorway, staring. He couldn't make himself move. The man didn’t seem bothered, looking him up and down and smirking at him.

“Well hi there, pretty. Could you close the door? Don’t need anyone else seeing the goods.”

Shocked, he complied and pushed the door shut behind him. “S-sorry, I’m- I think I’m just lost.” He rubbed at his face, shaking his head. This had not been his day.

“Well, I don’t remember ordering a basketball player, but I think you found exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, this looks like the locker room. Sorry, I’ll just get out of your hair,” he averted his eyes when he realized they’d been tracking downward, following the man’s tattoos. He turned back towards the door but the man was suddenly close to him, a hand on his arm.

“Now now, we both know that’s not where you want to go.”

The man snatched the paper out of his hand. Steve had already forgotten about it.

“You got knocked down?” The man peered at him suspiciously, looking him up and down once more.

Steve knew he was big, tall and broad shouldered, and he bristled. “I got fouled, the guy tripped me and I hit my head.” He tried to take the paper back but the man evaded him, moving to the side. Still naked, reading his paper.

He frowned, trying to follow him as he paced quickly as he looked over his paper. The man was about the same height as Steve, and lightly muscled like he got his muscles from something other than hours in a gym.

Eddie looked over at him and raised his eyebrows at his probably confused expression. He scoffed, “No signs of concussion? Who is this guy? You’re gunna come with me and I’ll have our people look you over.”

“Your people?”

“Oh. Hi, I’m Eddie Munson,” he held his hand out to shake Steve’s, and held onto it for a long moment.

“Uh. Steve. Harrington.”

Neither of them had the reaction they expected at their names, apparently. Steve started to look around now at the room to try to gain some knowledge of this person. So far all he knew was the man, Eddie, had a tattoo over his hip and onto his ass. And he wore leather pants.

And had zero issues being naked in front of a stranger.

“My band is next door, they don’t usually want to share a dressing room with me,” he then looked down and grinned. “But since I have a visitor, I guess I should put on some pants.”

Steve opened his mouth to say it was his room and he didn’t mind, but quickly closed it. He didn’t know who this guy was, or who he’d share that information with.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Eddie smirked again. “I saw you checking out the package already. You’re safe with me. I’m gunna take good care of you.”

Steve laughed, but something in his chest unclenched, a warmth rolling in his belly. He tried to ignore it.

Eddie had put on a pair of joggers and a tshirt that was mostly holes before escorting him into a different room.

After he was introduced to everyone, Gareth gave him a wide knowing smile as he looked him up and down. “Where’d you find this one, Ed?”

“Oh,” he grinned from his sprawl on the couch next to him. “He found me. Walked right into my room and saw my naked ass.”

Drew snickered from behind his fist.

Jeff choked on his sip of water. “For real? Why can’t you just keep your clothes on, dude?”

Steve tried to keep up with what was clearly an old and ongoing argument, but Eddie handed him a bottle of water and stared at him until he drank it. Then he just settled in.

It was strangely comfortable, even though he had been thrown into this situation. The easy comradery between these guys was just like being with his teammates.

He felt his eyes slipping shut and jerked his head back up when a hand settled on his arm.

“Hey pretty, I don’t think it’s a great idea for you to be sleeping. Let’s go find Argyle and get him to check you out and then we’ll go to the hotel, okay?”

Eddie’s soft voice somehow booked no argument and he found himself nodding, getting to his feet with a tiny bit of Eddie’s help. He still felt strange, off kilter in a way he couldn’t explain.

“Yo Argyle, this is Steve,” he called once they’d reached a more open area, like a big backstage set up from what Steve could figure.

“Hi Steve!” Argyle’s wide smile and friendly eyes made him relax immediately. He’d love to run his hands through his long silky looking hair, it had to be down past his waist. Argyle did the same look over that Gareth had, and turned his knowing look back at Eddie. “Snatched him up after the game, huh? Typical.”

Eddie huffed and rolled his eyes. “I’ll have you know, he actually stumbled upon me! You guys don’t have to throw this in my face every time, you know. But hey! Steve needs your help!”

“My help?” Argyle looked him over again, more scrutinizing this time. “With?”

“He got ‘cleared’ by their medical for a concussion but I’d like to make sure. He seems disoriented, and he almost just fell asleep. So,” Eddie waved his hand between them like he was doing a magic trick and Steve laughed.

Argyle smirked, looking between them. “So you wanna know if it’s safe for, like, any extracurricular activities tonight.”

“Uhh, well, I-“ Steve stammered, looking between the two of them. Eddie simply grinned at him as he felt his ears and cheeks flush.

“Come sit, Steve,” Argyle sighed.

He flicked a pen light over his eyes and asked about his head and past injuries, Steve answering to the best of his knowledge. It was hard to concentrate, especially with Eddie hovering over them and the promise in his eyes.

“If anything, a very low grade concussion. But it could be just dehydration and fatigue from the game and getting a bump to the head.” Argyle looked over his paper and handed it back to him. Then he turned to smirk at Eddie. “You gunna look after him tonight?”

“Sure am,” he grinned back.

Argyle snorted. “Well you have my number, if he starts feeling worse- nauseous, his pupils look weird or he gets a bad headache- just call me. Nothing too strenuous, Ed,” he pointed a finger at him.

Eddie held his hands up in front of him, putting on an innocent face. “Of course not!” But he winked at Steve when Argyle turned his back.

Steve felt drawn to him, in a strange way that he’d never felt before. He’d messed around with guys before, of course, but this felt different. He already felt like he’d known Eddie for years.

“Oh! Hey Argyle, can you find someone to tell that I’m stealing Harrington? He never made it back to Basketball Land after his checkup.” Eddie held his hand out for Steve and he took it, allowing the surprisingly strong arm to pull him to his feet. With his shoes on now, they stood eye to eye and Steve felt that warmth in his belly again.

Steve let himself really look at him now, noticing the big dark brown eyes and his long eyelashes, the defined Cupid’s bow above his plush lips. Eddie was stunning. He let his gaze get trapped in the dark curls that dropped down his chest.

“Okay space cadet, you’re coming with me,” Eddie huffed.

It wasn’t until he got in the car with Eddie that he realized he didn’t have any of his stuff. His clothes, his phone, nothing.

“Ed- um, this is very nice of you, but I need my stuff from the locker room.” Steve fidgeted with his hands, awkward somehow now that he was being taken back to Eddie’s hotel room. He wasn’t used to not calling the shots.

“It’s being sent over, honey. I got it all taken care of. Just relax. Usually I’m at the venue a lot longer than this, miss all the traffic. It might take us a while to get moving.”

Eddie slid his arm over Steve’s shoulders and he found himself leaning in, letting his eyes close.

“Stevie, we’re here.”

Opening his eyes at the voice, he quickly let them fall closed again and couldn’t hold back the smile at Eddie running his hand through his hair. His dried sweat hair.

“Ugh, good. I desperately need a shower,” he groaned.

Eddie chuckled, unfortunately his hands leaving him to open the car door. “That sounds like a great plan.” He winked at him as he helped him out of the car.

They took a small elevator up from the deserted lobby, Steve not paying attention to the buttons until the door opened. Directly into a large penthouse suite.

“Wha- Holy shit. This-“ He cleared his throat and shook his head. “This is all yours?”

“Yeah,” Eddie grinned. He typed something quickly into his phone and tossed it down onto a front table. “What, they don’t put you guys up in fancy places?”

“No, I was rooming with fucking Aaron ‘The Mouthbreather,’” he shook his head again, rushing over to the floor to ceiling windows looking over the city. He turned back towards Eddie. “Okay, wait. Who are you?”

Eddie looked sheepish for the first time all evening, and it settled something in him. At least the guy was human.

“I sort of liked it better when you didn’t know. But you’ll find out soon enough. You, uh, ever hear of Corroded Coffin?”

Frowning, he tried to place where he had heard that name before. “Maybe?”

“So, Gareth, Drew, Jeff and I… we’re Corroded Coffin. We hit it big last year, been sailing on some radio hits recently. Our big tour starts tomorrow, we were doing some set up and finalizing everything today.”

“Wow,” he breathed, looking around at the huge space.

“The record company had to really sell us on it, to be honest. We’re pretty much small town boys at heart… so I think this is overkill, but it is fun.” Eddie looked around with him for a moment, a goofy smile on his face.

He had a million more questions.

The door opened behind Eddie and a man stepped out with a bag. Steve’s duffle bag. He started walking over to take it but the man handed it to Eddie, quickly receiving some bills from him.

“Will you be needing anything else, Mr. Munson?” He asked politely.

“I don’t think so, thank you. Have a good night.”

“Thank you sir, you as well.”

Eddie grinned. “I plan on it.”

The man actually bowed before turning and getting back into the elevator.

“This is nuts,” Steve whispered. He’d only seen things like that in movies.

Eddie turned back to him, handing him his bag. “Everything accounted for?”

“Oh. Um.” He unzipped his duffle and located his phone and charger, hairspray, protein bars and clothes that had been in his locker. “Yeah. I didn’t have much. Mostly needed my phone.”

He unlocked his phone and quickly sent a text:

Rob, not going to be able to call tonight. Everything’s fine, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Love you

“Boyfriend?”

Steve turned to see that of course Eddie had read the text over his shoulder. He huffed a laugh. “No, girl best friend, actually. She’d be blowing me up if I didn’t check in.”

Eddie gave him a small smile, “That’s cute. Really none of my business, sorry. I just don’t need any entanglements showing up here to shoot me or anything.” He shrugged but Steve could tell he was more pleased than he was letting on.

“All good, no entanglements who would care if I, uh, entangled with anyone else,” he chuckled.

“Good,” Eddie laughed. “Well, for me at least.”

Steve was hit with the deep and sudden need to kiss him, and he felt himself leaning into him, but then the elevator opened again.

A different guy in a uniform wheeled in a low cart with bottles of water and plates covered in cloches. Steve raised an eyebrow at Eddie.

“Ordered us some stuff,” he shrugged. Again he handed some folded up bills to the man and exchanged pleasantries and Steve was well on his way to falling for him. Pay attention to how a man treats his inferiors or something. Steve was the same way, getting to know their bus drivers and the most lowly handlers they interacted with.

“Food or shower first? Then we can trade off.”

“Oh.” His stomach dropped. “I thought-“ he shook his head. Nothing to get upset about. It would be weird to want to shower with someone you literally just met. “Never mind.”

“Don’t do that.” Eddie came closer, catching his eye. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

Holding the eye contact, taking in Eddie’s accepting face, he shook his head again. It was fine. “It’s nothing. Just- I thought… maybe you wanted to shower with me.” He mumbled the last part and looked away, feeling like a teenager again.

Eddie moved closer still, stopping with a few inches between them. He cupped his jaw and tilted his head up to look into his eyes. “Is that what you want? Me to shower with you? We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” Eddie stared deeply into his eyes, probably trying to decide if Steve was taking this in. “I’m not that guy. I’m thrilled with whatever you want to do. Okay Stevie?”

He nodded and couldn’t hold back the small smile. He could tell Eddie meant it, and his genuine affection was winning him over quickly. “Okay, Eds.”

They could still blame his little stumble as he got into the shower on the light head injury, but he saw the smirk on Eddie’s face when he caught him with a hand around his waist.

“If you wanted me to touch you, pretty boy, you could’ve just asked. Don’t have to go all damsel in distress on me.”

“Already saved me, didn’t you?” Steve teased back. At Eddie’s cocked eyebrow, he continued. “Would’ve been wandering around grey hallways all night.”

“Hmmm,” Eddie hummed, nodding. “True, someone else could’ve gotten their claws into the little lost basketball player.” He brought his free hand to trace his fingers through Steve’s wet chest hair. “Good thing I scooped him up instead,” he said, low and rumbly.

His voice was doing things to him, and the way he was touching him was going straight to his dick. All the attitude he had evaporated and he was suddenly desperate.

Leaning in, trying to catch Eddie’s eye to get him on the same page, he almost whined when instead Eddie pulled back and reached for soap on the shelf.

“Oh no,” Eddie cooed. “What’s that face for? You look like someone stole your toy, baby.” He chuckled and Steve huffed a small laugh, immensely happy when he came back into his personal space again. “Hi there. Are you always this needy or is it just for me?”

Steve actually whined this time, unsure if he’d ever made such an embarrassing noise in his life. “Fuck, I think it’s just you.” He was already uncomfortably hard, his cock straining upwards between them.

“Uh uh, say it properly.” Eddie’s eyes darkened and Steve thought his knees were going to give out.

He floundered, trying to figure out what that meant. “Wha- I-“ he shook his head but couldn't take his eyes off of Eddie in front of him.

“Say you’re so needy for me,” Eddie directed. His tone and low voice zinged down his spine and his dick twitched between them. Unable to place this feeling, he chose not to question it and just followed directions.

“Holy shit,” he hissed. Then, catching Eddie’s eye, he went for broke. “I’m so needy for you, Eds. Please.”

Eddie made a low satisfied sound in his throat that made the warmth in his belly expand. He’d never felt this turned on before in his life. And they weren’t even doing anything.

“Please what, baby?” Eddie moved closer to him, a sly smile creeping across his face. “Wash your hair?” He reached up and pushed his wet hair back from his forehead. His eyes settled on his lips. “Kiss you?” Steve opened his mouth to agree, but Eddie’s gaze traveled lower. “Play with your pretty cock?”

“Yes,” Steve sighed, not sure which one he was asking for but it didn’t matter as lips crashed into his and he was pulled into Eddie’s arms.

Steve groaned and his bottom lip was sucked into Eddie’s mouth, receiving a quick bite and a soothing swipe of his tongue. If Steve hadn’t been desperately clinging to him he might have hit the floor.

Eddie pushed him against the wall of the shower, maybe knowing he was done for, or knowing he needed the stability. Calloused hands traced down his sides before wrapping around his hard length.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart.” Eddie purred at him after breaking their kiss.

Steve complied and gasped at the image in front of him, Eddie’s wet hair even darker and slicked back, sticking to his shoulders. Eddie’s eyes were deep and dark, his mouth reddened and opened slightly.

“Good boy. You doin’ okay? I don’t want to get in trouble with Argyle.” He smirked at him, somehow managing to look devious yet completely innocent as he slowly fisted his cock between them.

Steve nodded and when he didn’t get a response other than a pointed look, he thought hard about answering his question. He felt okay, other than desperately needing to come and very out of his league when it came to Eddie. But he didn’t feel any of the symptoms Argyle had told them to look out for. “I’m okay. Please don’t stop. C-can I touch you?” He ducked his head down but then was staring at Eddie’s complex tattoos and his neglected hard cock.

“Of course, gorgeous. C’mere.” Eddie arranged their limbs for him, thankfully, getting them aligned so they each had a hand on each other, before crashing their lips back together and sliding his free hand around the back of Steve’s head. He got a fistful of hair and used it to keep him right where he wanted him.

Steve tried to focus on getting Eddie off, but his body felt like it was trying to shatter apart from the slippery hand wrapped around his own dick and Eddie taking him apart with his mouth.

His hips rocked forward and their lengths slid together causing them both to groan into the kiss.

“So fuckin’ hot, Stevie,” Eddie panted into his ear before sucking and biting down his neck.

He couldn’t be sure who moved first, but their hips shifted allowing their hands to come together encircling both of their cocks. They chased their release, both shoving into their combined fingers.

Steve got a handful of curly hair and pulled their mouths back together, quickly allowing Eddie to take over the ravenous kiss.

He pulled back quickly as he realized he was- “Gunna come, ah ah!“

Eddie stared at him, tilting their foreheads together as both of their hips stuttered and they came between their bodies.

“Oh fuck,” Eddie breathed, working their lengths through their aftershocks and looking down to see the combined mess. “So glad we did this in the shower,” he snickered.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve laughed, ducking his head as he could feel the blush rise on his cheeks.

“Now he’s gunna try to be shy, huh? After he seduced me into the shower and mnph-“ Steve captured his lips again and they smiled against each other.

Somehow they managed to get washed up, dried off and tumbled into bed.

Steve was warm and comfortable, but something was nudging his subconscious awake while he tried to sink back into sleep.

Becoming slowly more aware of his immediate surroundings, the soft sheets and someone cuddling behind him, he still wasn’t sure what it was. Then something hard pushed between his cheeks and across his entrance.

He must have startled or tensed up because they quickly moved away, mumbling, “Sorry.”

Finally memories of the whirlwind of the previous day floated across his mind, and Steve pulled him closer, arching his back. “No. Please, Eds. Need you.”

He felt the groan behind him and their hips both stuttered.

“God, Stevie,” he panted into his shoulder. A hand came up to ghost across his nipple, rubbing more firmly at his gasp.

They moved together for a few moments, precome allowing Eddie to glide between his cheeks but it wasn’t enough for him.

Steve finally pushed back hard, gasping, “Fuck me, Eddie. I need it. Need more.”

The hand on his chest cupped his pec roughly before coming up to his mouth. He opened automatically and sucked two fingers into his mouth, reveling in the moan it caused behind him.

“Get those wet for me, honey.” Eddie’s rough morning voice made him moan as he licked across the calloused fingers.

Eddie pulled his fingers out and he missed them for a moment before his leg was moved, widening for-

“Oh fuck,” he breathed as the wet fingers rubbed over his entrance.

The small amount of spit wasn’t going to be enough but Steve rocked back into the fingers and hoped Eddie had lube close by. Or that he’d just push himself inside of him. He groaned and a shiver went through him.

“I know, baby. Wait one second, okay?”

Eddie’s warmth disappeared from behind him and he swore under his breath from across the room.

He heard him come closer to the bed and the familiar plastic crinkle of a condom wrapper as he moved around behind him. Without any further preamble he felt a cold slippery finger slide into him and he gasped, but rocked back into it immediately.

“Please,” he panted. Eddie shushed him and pushed another finger in, scissoring them around slowly. Adding more lube and another finger, Steve finally cried out as he rubbed across his prostate.

Eddie lined himself up behind him and rubbed the head of his cock across his hole a few times to tease him before slowly, slowly pushing in. He set a languid pace, tracing patterns on Steve’s hips and up his chest, holding him close.

He had never felt this close to someone before, his previous hookups usually meaningless and hurried. This felt like they were becoming one person, pressed close and breathing the same air. Moving together without the delirious necessity of release, just wanting to feel.

A hot mouth found his neck and he couldn’t hold back the whimper that left him.

“So sweet for me,” Eddie purred, lips never leaving his skin. Kissing down his shoulder, he twisted his hips causing his dick to drag across Steve’s prostate. He hummed into his skin and picked the pace up only slightly as Steve panted.

Unable to hold back anymore, he wrapped a hand around his own dripping cock and Eddie added his hand too, intentionally slowing down his movements.

“Eds, oh, so good. Oh my god,” he rambled, too gone to coherently express all the feelings swirling in his chest.

“Gunna come, gorgeous. Come with me.”

Steve rocked back against the thrusts, gasping as the hot mouth returned to his neck and hands tightened around his length. He was so close.

“Ah, holy shit, ah-“ he bit into his lip as he came hard over their fingers and felt Eddie’s hips stutter against him.

He felt like he’d melted into a puddle. They stayed stuck together, their breaths slowing in time. He whined as Eddie pulled out of him and got out of bed, but he couldn’t move. A wet cloth was wiped over him and he hummed an appreciative sound.

Eddie got back in behind him and snuggled into his neck, yanked the blanket over them before wrapping his arms around him. Right before he sunk into unconsciousness a hand laced their fingers together over his chest.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Eddie kissed his forehead and he smiled. “Well, afternoon, but we gotta get to the arena.”

“That’s a new one,” Steve mused.

“New what?”

“Nickname. Sunshine.”

“Yeah? It suits you.” Kissed down his jaw to his neck. “Could light up a room without even trying.” He scraped his teeth across his collarbone and Steve yelped. “Hmmm or puppy, since you’re so eager and always making these cute little noises.”

Steve should be offended but he felt the blood color his cheeks.

Eddie sat back with a grin. “You like that one, huh? C’mon then sleeping beauty, let’s get some food in you and we’ll get out of here.”

Steve whined and pulled him down for a long kiss first, soaking in this undivided attention for as long as he could. It was so honest and endearing, and somehow the names made him feel like this could be more than just a hookup. He’d never been the one taken care of or doted on before. He took care of everyone. It was a new feeling that he already felt himself getting used to.

He let the warm feeling wash over him as they quietly ate everything on last night’s snack cart and today’s brunch tray. He could really get used to this treatment.

“Eds, I don’t really have anything to wear for a concert,” he called out from the bedroom, looking down at his meager pile of clean clothes.

“There’s not really a dress code, babe,” he heard Eddie laugh from the next room. “Just put something on and we’ll find something for you.”

It wasn’t until he was dressed and shoving his dirty clothes from the night before into his duffle that he found his phone and groaned. It was dead and they needed to leave.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, you can charge it when we get there. The car is already downstairs.”

Steve simply nodded but internally knew he was in big trouble. He hadn’t checked in with anyone in more than twenty four hours and they wouldn’t have even been able to see his location on the app if his phone was dead. Sighing, he grabbed all his stuff and went down the elevator with Eddie.

Once they got back to the arena and Eddie dropped him off in the same room they’d met, he plugged his phone in and sat on the floor by the outlet watching the little red battery blink at him until it powered on.

He watched as all the missed calls and texts from Robin, Dustin and Max rolled in. Instead of reading anything he just dialed Robin. She picked up on the second ring.

“What the fuck, dingus? You better have a really good reason for falling off the face of the earth. And why was your location off?”

He groaned. “I’m sorry, Robs. My phone died.”

“What happened? You’ve never let your phone die after a game before. Dustin said you got fouled last night and never came back out from the locker room.”

He winced and rubbed his hand over his face. “Well, I never made it to the locker room, actually.”

“What does that mean?” He could imagine the speculative face he was sure she was making.

“Listen, this is weird and I need you to not freak out because it’s turned out to be the best thing ever. So. Give me forty five seconds before you start yelling, deal?”

“Maybe.”

He sighed. “That douchebag fouled me and I hit my head. They brought me to medical where they told me I didn’t have a concussion but I was still kind of out of it. The idiot medic didn’t want to bring me back to the locker room I guess, so I got lost. And I ran into,” he chuckled. Then stopped when Robin huffed at him. “Sorry. I ended up meeting someone, and I spent the night with him. But he’s amazing, Robs…” He wasn’t sure what else he could say, or how much time he had left before she was released. “He’s, um, in a band, we were all in the same place because they’re playing tonight.

There was a long pause before- “Steven Bartholomew Harrington!” He winced again and pulled the phone away from his ear. “You had us all going crazy worried about you and you were getting laid by a dickhead in a band?”

“I know. I’m sorry. He’s not a dickhead though. He saw that I was disoriented and he got me checked out by his own staff and then… took care of me last night.”

“Oh I’m sure he did,” she grumbled.

“Stop, Robin,” he huffed. “I really like him and even though it definitely started as a quick hookup I feel like it could be more. Like he’s amazing. I promise.”

“Uh huh. Let me speak to him.”

“No, Robs-“

“Yes, Steve. Or I’m sending in Max. This asshole had you forgetting you had a phone for twenty four hours? What kind of platonic soulmate would I be if I didn’t look out for you?”

“He’s not here, Robin, he’s doing-“ he didn’t actually know what he was doing.

“That’s fine. You have three minutes.”

Steve scrambled to his feet and the phone fell to the ground when he tried to walk with it still attached to the charger.

“Sorry. Dropped you. I’m going, I’m going.”

Rounding a corner in the direction he sort of remembered going the night before, he followed the sounds of echoing voices until he found the doorway to the open backstage area.

He saw Gareth first and headed to him at a jog. “Hey-“

“Hey basketball, how’s it going?” Gareth grinned at him.

“I’m okay, but I need to find Eddie, quickly.”

Steve watched as he cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled, “EDDIE! EDDIIIIEEEEEEE YOUR BOY TOY NEEDS YOU!”

Steve blinked at him and he continued grinning back.

“Stevie? You okay?” Eddie popped out of nowhere from across the room, heading over quickly. Gareth walked away like this was completely ordinary.

“Uh, yeah, sorry about that. I, um, this is really weird but I need you to talk to my friend Robin? Just real quick. She’s, uh, not happy that I let my phone die and didn’t check in with anyone today… Please?” He held the phone up between them.

“Sure, honey.” Eddie frowned at him, taking the phone from his hand. “Hello? Hiya Robin, my name is Eddie Munson.” His eyebrows went up and Steve winced. He mouthed I’m so sorry at him and Eddie stared at him with an unreadable look. “Okay, hear you loud and clear, Robin. Hope to see you in person eventually. Uh huh, have a good one.” He handed the phone back to Steve with a blank expression before grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the room.

“Wha-“ Steve got out before he was shoved against the wall in the hallway and kissed within an inch of his life. He sank into it and kissed back after a few seconds. Maybe Robin hadn’t ruined this for him after all.

Eddie broke the kiss and hummed at him, looking at him from under his eyelashes. “So, anything you wanna tell me, sweetheart?”

“Uh. That my platonic soulmate doesn’t know the word boundaries?”

Eddie laughed, but shook his head. “Well who really does, but no, that’s not what I’m talking about. She had to tell me if I hurt you they would hunt me down and hit me over the head with a shovel and no one would ever find my body.”

“I’m sor-“

“No, baby. She said because you ‘really like me’ she needed me to know that you had people looking out for you.” Eddie kissed him again quickly. “I really like you too.”

Steve stared at him a bit dumbfounded for a moment. “Th-that’s what you took from that?”

“Well yeah, your friend is terrifying, sweets, but that doesn’t really bother me because I don’t plan on hurting you. I think it’s great that you’ve found people who would threaten my life. It’s somehow endearing,” he chuckled.

“Well do I have some stories for you, then,” Steve laughed.

“Sure puppy,” he grinned at him when color flooded his cheeks. “C’mon, I could use your help, actually.” He squeezed his bicep and Steve groaned good naturedly. He was feeling much better today and could definitely carry heavy things for them.

Hours later, Steve was feeling pleasantly sore and almost giddy after soaking in all the casual touches and lingering looks from Eddie.

Now after they’d cleaned up, only getting distracted a few times in long kisses, Eddie pulled a faded shirt out of somewhere and threw it at him with a leer.

Steve figured it’d be tight, but he held eye contact with him as he pulled it down his broad chest.

“Fuck, baby. Should’ve had you in my clothes all day.” He reached forward to pull the hem straight. “Maybe not though, we wouldn’t’ve left this room.” His eyes didn’t leave his chest.

There was a loud knock on the door and Eddie sighed. “Come in!”

Jeff opened the door a crack to peek through before finally walking in and Steve laughed.

Jeff shook his head with a grimace. “Apparently sometimes he ‘forgets’ he’s naked and still says come in,” he grumbled. “Not all of us want to see your dick, you know. Anyways! We’re all set up and they need everyone to start sound checks.”

Jeff quickly left the room and Eddie pulled him into a hungry kiss. Steve gasped as a tongue swiped over his lip before teasing across his own. He clenched his hands in Eddie’s shirt but he broke the kiss before he could do anything else.

“Stay here, sunshine. One of the venue guys will come bring you to your spot, okay? Then I’ll meet you back here after.” Steve grinned and nodded and he got a forehead kiss before another quick peck on his lips.

Steve hung out in the dressing room until someone with an earpiece came to get him. But instead of being escorted down where he assumed he’d be, they went up an elevator and shown into a private box, where a lower part had a few rows of auditorium seats.

He turned to the man to ask if he was sure this was right, but he was already gone. There was a sheet of paper in the slot in the door that read ‘Guest of E.M.’ He took a selfie with it and sent it to Robin.

An opening band started a few minutes later and he clapped and cheered in support. He hadn’t really been to many concerts and never in a private box. He entertained himself by poking around the snacks and mini bar, deciding to help himself to a beer.

When the band onstage said their thanks and left the stage, he went down into the seats to wait for Corroded Coffin. He was inexplicably nervous but excited. He munched on some pretzels and a candy bar to keep his hands busy.

Then the lights came back up and he gasped loudly as he caught sight of Eddie bouncing on his toes at the front of the stage, in ripped jeans and a tight mesh shirt, hair wild and huge grin on his face. He was looking directly up at him in his box and sent him a theatric wink when he caught his eye. Steve grinned and waved.

Their music was different than he expected somehow, heavier metal and pounding bass, but it worked so well for them and their energy and the energy from the crowd was infectious. He found himself standing at the edge of his row of seats, jumping and bouncing around. Eddie would often come towards his side of the stage to blow a kiss or just stare up at him as he sang and he felt his heart and his pants tighten. He whooped and laughed and jumped up and down as Eddie thrashed around on stage. He was blown away by the band and the music, even if he hadn’t known Eddie and the guys beforehand.

When he realized the band was wrapping up their set he was momentarily disappointed but then remembered he got to go see Eddie. He groaned and tried to reposition his throbbing dick in his pants.

After making his way back down to Eddie’s dressing room after their encore, he paced around before throwing himself onto the couch. He really hoped Eddie didn’t want to wait to do anything until they were back at the hotel.

The door finally opened and Eddie rushed through it, making eye contact as he pushed it closed behind him and turned the lock.

He went to stand but Eddie shook his head and came over to straddle his lap. Steve rubbed his hands up and down his thighs and stared up at him.

“Hi puppy,” he teased, tracing his fingers down his cheeks and to his neck as he felt them redden. “Got me alI worked up watching me play, Stevie.” He kissed across his jaw and down to his shirt collar. Eddie’s shirt collar. “Watching you jump around in my Metallica shirt was something else.”

He captured his mouth in a filthy kiss and Steve could only hold on for dear life. Eddie pulled away with a nip to his lip and a dark look.

“You were so hot, Eds. It was-“ he shook his head, unable to find words to describe it.

Humming at him as he pushed himself down onto his lap to make him whine, Eddie leered at him. “Can I ride your pretty cock, baby?”

Steve nodded dumbly, mouth hanging open, and could only watch as Eddie went to rifle through his backpack across the room.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled as Eddie came back towards him with a couple small packets of lube and a condom. How had he gotten this lucky?

“Gunna be so good for me, aren’t you sunshine?” He pulled his shirt off and wiggled his pants down as he stood in front of him, hard dick already dripping. Steve automatically pulled his own shirt off and awkwardly unbuttoned his jeans to push them off his hips. They giggled at each other when they had to stop and help each other out of their shoes to get their pants off.

Eddie positioned himself back over his lap, staying up on his knees this time as he ripped open a packet of lube and reached behind himself. They both groaned as Steve watched his face, his hands coming up to grab at a hip and wrap around his hard length.

“Oh fuck, honey. You can’t do that or I’m gunna come too quick. Need to come with your cock inside me.”

Steve whined, nodding again and instead reached beside him to squirt some lube on his hand.

“Let me feel you, Eds,” he breathed and at Eddie’s groan he rubbed his fingers across his entrance, pushing the tip of his finger against the rim.

“God your hands are huge,” Eddie hissed. He rocked back into his finger as it slid further in, Steve watching his face with rapt attention as he squeezed his eyes shut and panted. “Another one. I’m not going to last much longer.”

Steve quickly added a second finger and scissored them around, grinning as he pinpointed his prostate and Eddie cried out beautifully. Eddie pushed his hand away and continued on his own, Steve taking the time to slide the condom down his leaking dick.

“Fuck, gorgeous. Can’t wait to bounce on this cock of yours. Oh, holy fuck-“ Eddie panted and finally arranged himself closer, reaching beneath him to line Steve up to his hole.

They panted against each other as Eddie sunk down his length. Their mouths crashed together and Eddie fucked their tongues against each other as he bottomed out.

“Oh my god,” Steve breathed, not pulling his mouth away. “Please move. I’m dying, babe. God you’re perfect. Please.” He had Eddie’s hips in a death grip and finally helped him raise up and down slowly.

“Jesus Christ.” He watched with a deep satisfaction as Eddie’s eyes rolled back and he planted his feet on the floor to thrust up into him. “Ah! Yes, fuck me, just like that princess.”

The name caught him off guard but made his dick twitch and he cried out, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“Yeah you like that one, huh? I know. Such a spoiled princess already. Gunna make me come so hard on your cock, oh fuck.” His hands slid into the back of his Steve’s hair as he held on for dear life, their thrusts becoming wild as they chased their climaxes.

Eddie clenched around him and came untouched between them, Steve crying out as his hips stuttered up as he came.

“God damn,” he breathed, dropping his face into Eddie’s neck as they came down. “You’re never getting rid of me.”

“Wasn’t planning on it, sweetheart,” he groaned.

The next morning, he blearily clicked on a link Robin texted him. The headline of a news site read, ‘Hot New It Couple? Corroded Coffin frontman Eddie Munson seen leaving concert with Steve Harrington of the Indiana Pacers.’ He showed the little picture of their heads huddled together to Eddie and they shrugged and snuggled back under the covers.

[j2h5b5]

There was only one thing that could have dragged Steve out of bed at two in the morning when he was nursing a booze-induced headache and an Eddie Munson-induced heartache.

“We need you,” she said.

He didn’t even bother putting on a jacket.

***

Dustin was sloppy, red-eyed and so unsteady that when Steve thunked a strong hand down on his shoulder, he almost lost his balance turning away from the group of asshats he’d taken up with to see who had grabbed him. Some of the drink in his hand sloshed over the sides of the cup and dribbled down the front of his shirt and onto the already filthy kitchen floor.

“Hey, what the—” he began, and then he dragged his gaze up to land on Steve.

There was a time, not so very long ago, when those same eyes would’ve lit up at the sight of his babysitter slash idol slash best friend. He would wrap him in a hug if it had been a day or two since he’d seen him, or sling a companionable arm around him, or punch him good-naturedly in the arm in hopes of initiating a play scuffle, which inevitably ended with him in a headlock getting his mop of curls aggressively tousled because he was just never going to have any kind of athletic edge on Steve.

But now.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” the younger boy asked in a tone so sharp and cold and so very NOT-Dustin that it made Steve’s heart squeeze painfully in his chest.

“Hey, man,” Steve said, aiming for casual if only to keep Dustin from embarrassing himself in front of his new asshat friends. “Can I talk to you? Step outside with me for a sec, okay?”

“Um, no,” Dustin bit out. “This’s my party, i'ss my house. It would be rude to leave my guests.”

“Yeah, since you brought that up … who are these people?” Steve swept his gaze over the Henderson kitchen, which was almost unrecognizable with all of the clutter, displaced furniture, and wasted teenagers. “And Dustin … where’s your mom?”

“Not here.”

“Well yeah, I kind of gathered that. Listen, Dust…”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Are the others here?”

“Oh, you mean the traitors who called and ratted me out to YOU? Who the fuck cares?” His voice lowered to what he seemed to think was a conspiratorial level but was really just an extremely loud stage whisper. “Maybe they tripped and fell and landed their buzzkill asses back in the Upside Down.”

“Okay, that’s it.”

Before Dustin could protest, the cup was plucked from his hand and tossed expertly across the room, over the heads of several unwary drunken youths and into the crusty-dish-crowded sink and he was being towed along behind Steve through the kitchen, the living room, out the front door.

“What the fuck, Harrington? Let go of me! Let go!” Dustin struggled against the vise grip on his bicep but only succeeded in ensuring he’d probably have finger-shaped bruises there tomorrow.

Steve paid him no mind until he had deposited the boy into the passenger seat of his car, slammed the door, and locked it. Then he walked around to the driver’s side, unlocked it only long enough to get in, relocked it, and turned to Dustin.

“First of all,” he began loudly, drowning out Dustin’s sputtering attempts to find the words he wanted to hurl at Steve in his outrage at being manhandled out of his own party. “First of all. Joking about the Upside Down in a room full of strangers? NOT OKAY.”

“They don’t even know what—”

“Not. Fucking. Okay. SECOND, if you ever imply again that one of ours should BE in the Upside Down, you will find yourself with my foot so far up your ass you’ll choke on my shoe, and if you think I’m joking about that, Dustin, try me.”

This time there was only an eye-roll from Dustin, because he kind of didn’t want to try Steve on that point and because he kind of felt bad about saying it.

“Third, your friends are not traitors. They care about you and they’re worried about you; they called me for help because you’re treating them like shit and shut down every attempt they make to help you. Listen, I know I’m not your favorite person right now, Dustin, but you have to let someone help you. You’re not okay, buddy. This isn’t you. And all this shit you’re doing, the drinking and the partying and the pretending not to give a damn? It isn’t going to fix anything. It … it won’t bring him back.”

“Shut up!” Dustin shouted, flinching so hard at the words that he smacked the back of his head against the side window. Steve winced at the sound of skull meeting glass and resisted the urge to reach out and check for blood, or a bump. Dustin seemed not to have noticed that he’d nearly brained himself, infusing his next words with all the venom he could muster. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Steve. Even if you were right, it’s none of your business what I do! I am none of your business.”

“Don’t say shit like that, Dustin. Of course you’re my business.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah! What are you saying?”

Dustin barked out a humorless laugh. “As much as I’d like to sit here with you and have a heart to heart right now, I have to get back to my guests.”

“No,” Steve snapped, reaching over Dustin to slap down the peg lock when the teen yanked it up. “We’re not done here. Now I can go inside and clear out your house and we can talk there, or you can drop the bullshit and talk to me right now.”

“You’re not shutting down my party.”

“Then we talk here.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Right, sure you don’t. Maybe I can give you some words, then. How about this, Dustin? How about: ‘Hey, Steve, you useless idiot loser, you promised to keep us safe and then you fucked it all up like you always do. The plan didn’t work and Max got hurt and Eddie fucking died, and you couldn’t stop it. I hate you for that, for lying and making us feel safe and telling us it was going to be okay. I can’t even look at you anymore and I hate my friends because they don’t hate you for some reason, but we know, don’t we? We know whose fault it is that we came back a man short. It’s yours, Steve. Yours.’” Steve’s voice was cracked and painful, like he’d been eating gravel and chasing it with cheap whisky and cigarettes. It hurt, that voice. “How’s that, Dust?” he finished, staring unflinching into Dustin’s shocked eyes. “Am I in the ballpark?”

Before Steve could react, Dustin unlocked his door and flung himself out of the car. He was drunk and it was dark, though, and he only made it a few yards before tripping and landing hard on the grass. Steve was on him almost instantly, hauling him up by the arms and scanning him for injuries.

He didn’t see the punch coming, wouldn’t have believed Dustin Henderson capable of such an effective hit, right in the mouth, knocking him back a couple of feet. “Jesus, Dustin!” he shouted, touching his lip and staring dumbfounded when his fingers came away wet with blood. “What the fuck, man?”

“Hit me back.”

“What? No! Dustin, what’s—”

“HIT ME BACK, STEVE! You have to!” Dustin’s voice cracked, the sudden violent burst of emotion threatening to unleash something big and scary and unforgivable. A tidal wave that had a name.

Steve grappled wildly with the boy, trying to grab his flailing arms so he could pin him, but Dustin was surprisingly swift in his current state, and he launched another punch, this one landing heavy in Steve’s gut and socking the breath right out of him.

“HIT ME, STEVE! I KNOW YOU WANT TO, JUST DO IT!”

Fueled by a burst of frustration and a sharper burst of fear (what is this?), Steve recovered enough to trap Dustin’s arms against his body, using his own weight to twist the boy around until he was trapped with his back against Steve, the hold immobilizing him so all he could do was squirm and shout out his fury. “LET ME GO FUCK YOU STEVE WHY WON’T YOU JUST FIGHT BACK YOU ASSHOLE?!”

“Dustin, stop. Stop it. Breathe, Dustin. Take a breath. No, hey, stop. You’re not going anywhere until you calm down for me. Breathe. Shhh, buddy. Breathe,” Steve’s hold was unbudging, his tone stern but soothing. Dustin’s violent struggles gradually slowed, and it took a couple of minutes for Steve to realize that the boy was shaking with silent sobs. And then the sobs became words, almost indecipherable in the wrecked, wretched voice that was rough and strained from screaming.

Every sentence Steve parsed from the stream of horrible self-accusations added another crack to his heart, which couldn’t have been more than a mess of spiderwebbing at this point.

It’s my fault.

He’s dead because of me.

I couldn’t save him.

You loved him, I know you did.

Why don’t you hate me?

Why don’t you hate me?

Why don’t you hate me?

Finally, finally, the words stopped and Dustin sagged, exhausted, in Steve’s arms. Only then did Steve ease up on his hold, but only long enough to turn the boy around and hug him properly. He bent down to bury his face in the unruly curls, his own tears falling unchecked and inconsequential.

“Dustin,” he whispered into the mop of hair. “Oh, Dustin, never.”

And when he realized he didn’t have the right words, he just stopped. He just picked Dustin up and carried him to his car, buckled him into the passenger seat, and told him he would be right back. He had a party to break up, some kids to chase away, and a boy—his boy—to mend.

“You loved him, I know you did.”

With a soul-cleansing breath that sounded more like a sob, Steve made his way back up to the Hendersons’ house.

[andypantsx3]

nooo but 7 minutes in heaven with shouto 😳

Note: Characters are adults, 18/19, in their 3rd year of UA.

"This is a closet," Shouto says, his tone both flatly observational and mystified, as a giggling Mina shuts the door behind you.

You look up at him in the dim, only a narrow strip of his face visible in the light from the crack in the door. It highlights one electric blue eye, a raised red brow, and an impossibly high cheekbone. But you don't have to see his face to understand the question he's asking.

"The term 'heaven' is artistic license," you tell him, your face going hot even though you're aware he can probably barely see you. "It's supposed to be more about, like, the activities than the space."

"What activities?" Shouto asks. The strip of light shifts, showing one strangely pretty ear, and you can tell he's glanced around for some sign of the aforementioned activities, as if someone's hidden away a Monopoly board in the janitorial closet.

You laugh despite your nerves. It figures Shouto participated in the game without knowing what he was participating in, just to spend time in the company of his classmates. He's like that, just content to be part of the group—to watch people talk, to listen closely and carefully.

You might have known he knew nothing about the game, especially when he didn't show any specific reaction to you being chosen as his partner.

"Um, well," you say, your insides hot and twisting. "We can just talk. We don't have to get into the usual logistics."

The strip of light highlights Shouto's blue eye and the side of his perfectly straight nose, and he blinks down at you curiously. He's very warm and very close in the small space, and even though you can't see much more of him, you're altogether too aware of the shape of his strong, lean body, lingering somewhere near in the dark.

"I want to play the way it's usually played," he says, his tone low and a little bit pouty at being rerouted like that. You know that about him, too, that he's a little bit of a spoiled youngest child, likes to get his way, even if he's usually patient and understanding about things.

A tiny thrill of anticipation goes up your spine, but you know he doesn't know what he's talking about. You frantically squash down your nerves, pinching the skin of your forearm to ground yourself.

"Shouto," you say, searching for the most tactful way to set him straight. You come up blank. "It's—not like, a normal game. It's...maybe with a different partner you would want to but trust me on this, we should just chat!"

The strip of light flickers, and every nerve ending in your body goes on high alert when you feel Shouto's exhalation on your cheek, realize he's leaned down to try to see you in the dim.

"Is there a reason you would not suit?" he asks, tone curious.

Yeah. The reason is that he was the most gorgeous creature on earth and you were just some general course rando on the periphery of his friend group with a creepy little crush. It would not do to take advantage of his naivety like this.

"Yes," you tell him, deciding maybe he just needed to hear it out. "Because Seven Minutes in Heaven is about kissing, Shouto."

There is a moment of silence, condemning in its length. The light strip shows only the top of Shouto's head now, soft scarlet strands raked through with the tiniest fluff of white on his right.

Then, an exhale, horribly, thrillingly close to your mouth.

"You do not want to kiss me," Shouto says, as if he's come to an understanding.

It's the absolutely shocking stupidity of this statement that causes you to blurt out what you do next.

"Are you for real? Anyone would want to kiss you, you nut," you say hotly.

There is another moment of silence, like Shouto is processing this. The force of your embarrassment hits you like a freight train, and you think it's only the saving grace that Shouto can't actually see you that stops you from self-immolating.

Then Shouto shifts, and his voice sounds even closer when he asks, "Even you?"

You can feel the heat of him now, barely inches away. A hot shiver creeps down your limbs, partly the thrill of his proximity, and partly a wild, gut-churning rush of self-consciousness.

"Yes," you say, trying not to cringe. "Even me."

And you think that will probably be the end of it, except something makes contact with your shoulder, startling you. You realize it's Shouto's hand as it slides up, warm and long-fingered, trailing across your neck as if feeling out the shape of you in the dark. He catches your chin between his fingers.

You open your mouth to ask what he thinks he's doing—

Only for Shouto to catch the words in his mouth.

It takes your brain several seconds to realize you're being kissed, though your body seems to realize it right away, thrilling with the feeling of his mouth on yours, hot and soft and utterly delicious. You hear yourself make an embarrassing noise and Shouto's mouth twitches into a tiny smile over yours, before his fingers grip you a little more firmly, pulling you deeper into his kiss.

You go willingly, your hands finding those strong shoulders in the dark, lifting up onto your toes to get closer to him. Shouto kisses you so thoroughly your head spins, his tongue careful and probing at first, then teasing.

The thought that Todoroki Shouto has his tongue in your mouth has you fighting down a little shivery whimper, as Shouto walks you back to press you against the wall, his hands finding your waist, pressing himself firmly against you.

His body is hard against yours, lean and long and carefully honed by years now of hero work. You grip him more tightly as his mouth leaves yours to follow the line of your throat. It's ticklish and thrilling, especially when he finds a spot at the base of your throat and sucks, leaving what is sure to be a hickey, an imprint of his mouth on you for you to wear for days after.

"Shouto!" you manage to gasp, gripping a handful of that silky hair, and Shouto makes a low, appreciative noise against your skin, moving over a half inch to leave another one.

The temperature in the closet is suddenly sweltering, and you can't tell if it's Shouto's quirk acting up or the heat of your own desire. All you know is you want to tear his shirt off of him, tear your shirt off of yourself, desperate to feel the press of his bare skin against yours, and—

A blinding light suddenly sears through your eyelids, and you jump about a foot in the air as Shouto reflexively clamps you against him.

"Wha—?" you garble out, your eyes blinking open to find Mina, peering into the closet smugly.

"It's about time you two stopped dancing around one another," she says, a Cheshire-catlike grin cutting across her mouth. "I accept gratitude in cash, credit, or banana milk at lunch."

Shouto lets out a huff against your skin, before turning to look at her, still gripping you tightly. "How much for an hour in heaven?" he asks, his tone politely bland.

A snort escapes you, mirroring Mina's and she tosses back her pink curls, her grin widening. She taps her chin, pretending to think for a moment before deciding.

"For you? It's on the house," she says finally, laughing, and closes the door, leaving you in the dark with Shouto once again.

You feel Shouto turn back to you, his mouth finding yours once more. "Seven minutes is not nearly enough time," he says against your lips, as you grin helplessly against his, disbelieving that this is really happening. "The inventors will want to change it. I'll write a letter."

You laugh but don't correct him, your veins singing with happiness.

You just let him kiss you again, finding your way into heaven.

[evilminji]

Okay, But, >.> Listen...

So MAYBE, just MAYBE, I am an incureable RoFan Isekai nerd. Shut up about it, maybe. What're you a cop? Mind your business. BUT! And hear me out...

W...What would actually? HAPPEN if Danny went into a Visual Novel? Some Otome game? You know, aside from being vague flustered by and then DEEPLY ALARMED by these walking Red Flag Fruitloops that girls are supposed to find "dreamy" or something?

Like we know how MMOs work for him. And probably OTHER open world games? But a visual novel? Would it be like the Christmas Episode? Would he hear narration? Be stuck in static "scenes"? Or would it be like a cut together "only the interesting parts" movie that he's somehow IN?

Like?? At SOME point his curiosity is gonna get the best of him. He's gonna want to know what different video games are LIKE on the inside? What's Pong like? Tetris? Mario? One of those Mama's cooking games? Etc etc.

He probably hits up a game sale. Buys a box or two. Figures he can always resell um or just give them away for free. Might even use them for parts. Who knows. And?

It's kinda cool!

It's even SCIENCE! See? Tucker's in charge of notes. Sam's in charge of hilarious commentary and pizza. Jazz is keeping them from drinking and doing ghost shit (terrible combination, we never speak of What Happened(tm) again). And the Dr's. Fenton got distracted by making fudge and debating what games should be counted towards which categories.

They've made an afternoon of it.

And NOW? They've reached the bottom of box one. It was "Survive The Villainess! My Rose for You!" Or... judging by Sam's climbing eyebrows and growing scowl? A DEEPLY unpleasant porn game about school girls.

You could not PAY him enough.

Yeah, he DOES realistically kinda want to know what happens.. if.. like? You know... sexy games... like would he? Or does he just WATCH or...? *awkward cough* But! That's NOT for Family Science Night! And DEFINITELY not THAT game, THANKS.

He'll find himself an ETHICALLY SOURCED smutty game full of consensual boning. For PRIVATE TIME. Those test results are gonna show up like MAGIC and we WILL NOT be talking about them! Got it? Good.

Now what the fuck is he look at here?

Jazz is surprisingly knowledgeable. They are not allowed to ask. They respect it. The main character "wakes up" inside the body of a "villainess" and must survive. Turn her terrible reputation around. Avoid "death flags". Preferably romance one of the hot guys?

Uuuuuuuh... you realize Danny's in a committed relationship, right?

Sam and Turker allow it. But they reserve the right to blast his taste in Fantasy Guy's. Chose carefully, for their roasting shall be BRUTAL. Luuuuuv yoooou~♡

He wants a divorce. They're not even MARRIED and he wants a divorce. You see how they mock him, Jazz? The cruelty he suffers? He's taking the Blobs and moving to Frightknight's. They always warned him about you living folks and your fast ways, but he didn't listen! *continued dramatics* *is smacked with a pillow*

But actually going IN? The weirdly, vaguely European over the top EVERYTHING? Giant jewels and ridiculous, fancy dresses? The walking red flag Romantic Archtype Leads? He wants to PUNCH half these guys! This is ABUSE! Are people OKAY!?

Like? I feel like he'd stay way, WAY longer then he needed too? Just out of morbid curiosity? W-where is this plot GOING? It's so dramatic. Why is my dress MORE dramatic now? Why is everything so... Sparkly.

It would be? AMAZING and baffling and I would pay real money to hear their live commentary. "Why not simply judo flip the crown prince off the balcony, then take over the country, sweetie?" "Solid plan, honey! He deserves it!" Beautiful. Flawless. Sage advice really. Too bad Danny can barely walk in his five million bows dress.

It's the BEST Au and I might be a genius. Or deeply sleep deprived. Meh. We'll 50/50 it, six of one, half a dozen of another.

@hdgnj @ailithnight @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter