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lovebugism · 7 months

Note

fictober idea (if ure up for smut): eddie & reader go to a haunted house. eddie, obviously, gets a boner bc hes a weirdo. reader notices & begs to touch him right here, right now even tho theyve never done anything in public before. so, eddie finds a place to *kinda* hide & reader gets him off, but ofc, eddie cant let reader go without cumming as well.

thanks for requesting :D — eddie gets turned on protecting you at a haunted house, and you obv have to reward him for it (smut 18+, 1.5k)

fictober leftovers (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie’s been called a freak his whole life. He knew he was different since he could understand what being different meant, and if that made him a weirdo, then so be it. But now he thinks everyone might’ve been right about him. He’s a complete, utter, and total freak.

He walks with you through a haunted house, surrounded by creepy masks and fake blood and your screams, and he’s hard. His dick’s as stiff as a rock and throbbing with a distant ache when most people are scared out of their minds.

It’s all your fault, honestly. You’re clinging to him with an ironclad grip and using him as a shield every time something jumps out at you. Eddie can’t even be scared with you because all he can think about is how masculine he feels protecting you like this. Metalhead freaks like him never get to feel this way — all manly and muscly and brave.

And even though it’s hard to walk while adjusting his pants every five steps, Eddie thinks he’s hiding it pretty well. Well, he was, anyway. Until your ass brushes against his lap, and you clock him immediately.

Trapped in a secluded area of the haunted house, lit up red and blaring the Halloween theme song, you spin around to face him. “Are you hard?” you ask him over the music, face twisted in confusion. You’re not weirded out by it exactly, just genuinely puzzled.

Eddie freezes, chocolate eyes wide. He plays coy despite being caught red-handed. “No.”

You shoot him a deadpanned look, brows raised as you peer at him through your lashes.

He caves. “…Yes.”

“Does scary shit turn you on?” you wonder, laughing softly.

“No!” he responds with a dramatic drawl, sounding more offended than he should be. He is standing rock-hard in the middle of a haunted house, after all. He shifts his weight on his feet and stammers for an answer. “I just… I like being able to protect you and… everything.”

“Aw…” you hum, melting into a puddle at his feet. “That’s kinda sweet, actually.”

Eddie’s visibly surprised by your response. He was prepared to get made fun of at best — slapped and dumped entirely at worst. But here you are, all but admiring how much of a freak your boyfriend is.

“Wait, really?”

You shrug. “Yeah. Especially considering last Halloween, the guy I was dating left me behind at a haunted house.”

“Pussy…” Eddie grumbles under his breath.

“Exactly,” you giggle. “So this is definitely an upgrade.”

Your palms smooth up his chest and over his shoulders. Your fingers entwine behind his neck, halfway embracing him in the middle of the haunt. His hands settle warm and wide on your sides. He squeezes you gently there and lets out a sigh of relief.

“I’m just glad you don’t think I’m a total freak,” he confesses with a forced chuckle.

“Oh, I definitely think you’re a freak,” you retort in a monotone, then flash him a sickly sweet smile. “I’m just too obsessed with you to care.”

Eddie nods and tries not to smile too wide when you lean in to kiss him. “Noted,” he murmurs.

You do a whole lot more than just kiss him, though. You open his mouth with your own and lick inside with a confident tongue. You take the breath from his lungs with little effort, leaving him more breathless than he has been all night.

“Wanna suck you off,” you murmur, slurred and muffled against his mouth.

He jerks away from you on instinct. He couldn’t hide his shock if he tried. “Huh?” he wonders in a tone that borders on cartoonish. His soft features twist in confusion.

“I need your cock in my mouth like I need to breathe,” you confess with an unabashed groan.

Maybe he wasn’t the freak after all. Maybe this whole time, it was you.

“Well, that’sa tad bit dramatic, but—” You cut off his teasing by fussing with the buckle of his belt. His eyes widen in shock, but he doesn’t try to stop you. “Whoa. Okay. This is… This is great and everything, babe, but there’s— there’s people around. Someone could walk in.”

You look to your left, then to your right. There’s no one here but you and Eddie in this small square room, filled with a fiery red like the warmth swirling in your belly. You blink at him with doe eyes and shrug innocently. “I don’t see anyone.”

Eddie breathes out a laugh, one mixed with amusement and disbelief. “I just don’t wanna us to get caught, babe,” he tells you, smoothing wide palms up and down your arms. “Don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Do you want a blowjob or not?”

“Well, yeah, but I—”

“Good,” you hum with a smile before sinking to your knees in front of him.

Eddie’s too stunned to stop you. He doesn’t want to stop you.

Bathed in a sinful neon red, you unbutton his pants and free his half-hard cock from the confines of his jeans. You tug at the hem of his underwear until his heavy balls hang over the plaid fabric.

“Shit,” he mutters when you press a sweet kiss to his weeping tip. He bites back a moan when you swirl your tongue around the bulbous strawberry head. “Shit— you’re so fucking hot.”

You worship his cock like it’s not just some random Tuesday in the middle of a haunted house. You don’t mean to, really, but he’s making such pretty noises for you — little puffs of tiny breaths and small whines he tries desperately to hide from you.

His thighs twitch every time you run your tongue over the veins on the underside of him, going slow to feel the rapid pulse there. His fingers crawl in your hair, palms settling on your temples — not pushing you or pulling you away, just holding you as you suck gently at his aching cock.

His pink lips are parted, airing out little moans of ecstasy. His chocolate eyes are dark and glazed over in a honeyed look. His hair hangs over his face, wild and desperate to be pulled.

You let his tip linger in your mouth, drool pooling around him and soaking his twitching cock. The feeling makes him moan — a deep, hearty sound that stems from his chest.

When his lolling head drops back, you take him in your fist. You don’t bother to work him up to a rapid pace. Using the lubrication of your spit, you jerk him with an expert hand and lick away the pearly beads of pre-cum he leaks for you.

“Ah, shit,” he groans, eyes rolled back before he squeezes them shut. “Oh, fuck, babe—”

You’re already opening your mouth for his cum before he can warn you it’s coming. You know him too well. You notice all the telltale signs before you think he does — the whimpers, the shaking thighs, the rambled moans, the way his balls draw slightly upward. You’re ready to accept his warm, salty loads the second he gives them to you.

Eddie cups your warm cheek with a ringed hand. He tries to tell you he’s cumming, but his whines get in the way. He grunts quietly, tilting his head backward and holding tightly to you as cum pulses weakly from his slit.

The tang dribbles over your tongue and mouth. You take it all with ease. You make a big show of it, too — lolling your tongue out of your mouth and letting his cum drip onto the softening pudge of his head. Eddie’s whole body twitches when you take his sensitive cock in your mouth again to swallow it down, like a goddamn lightning strike up his spine.

“How’d I—” His voice is hoarse, so he has to stop and clear his throat. You smile, lips swollen and spit-slick, as you tuck his soft cock back into his jeans and button them again. His eyes are half-lidded and darkened when you rise to full height. “How’d I get so fucking lucky with you, huh?”

You make a vague I don’t know sound and shrug your shoulders with an innocent grin. You lean into his palm when he puts his ringed hands on your jaw.

“Jesus fucking christ— you’re so pretty, baby— fuck.”

He’s just rambling now, still a bit dazed from his orgasm. He kisses you harder than anyone’s ever been kissed before, stealing the air from your lungs with ease. It’s like he’s amazed by his own adoration for you — the sheer intensity of it — the way it makes him stupid enough to let you suck his cock in a poorly hidden spot of a haunted house.

You don’t get caught, though.

Not really, anyway.

There’s a security camera in front of the door you leave from. You make sure to give it a little wave on your way out.

Eddie holds your hand the entire way back to his van, opening the door for you like a total gentleman. It’s not the passenger side door, though, but rather the one in the very back.

“What are you doing?” you wonder, all innocent like you still don’t have the taste of his cum in your mouth.

Eddie just grins at you, lopsided and pink and boyish. “Gotta return the favor, don’t I?”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti #event: fictober!

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cherry-leclerc · 6 months

Text

close call ☆ cs55

genre: smut, humor, established relationship

word count: 1.8k

After a tough season, you and Carlos want nothing more than to unwind. Though, what you have in mind is known for not always having the best outcome.

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+... shower sex, fingering

req!... sorry that it took me so long to post! school sucks :(

“Glad that shit show is finally over.”

Charles lets out a loud laugh as he throws his head back, shooting out a quick goodbye. Your boyfriend clumsily swings his arm over your shoulder as you both slowly make your way over to his car. Post-season testing was officially over and now came what you were both looking forward to.

Doing absolutely nothing.

“What should we do now?”

Tapping a finger against your glossy lips, you look up at the sky, trying to come up with an idea. Abu Dhabi was beautiful; there had to be a lot to do. Shimming away from his embrace, you turn to face Carlos. “We should go jet skiing!” His smile drops.

“No way.”

You stick your tongue out as you smack his toned chest. “But it was so much fun last time we went! Oh! Don’t you remember, Carlos?” The way your eyes shine with the memory makes him almost fall for it. But alas, he stood his ground.

“You flew right off the jet and almost died. That was fun to you?” He opens the passenger door. “Because it wasn’t for me.” Slamming it shut, he walks around the car, leaving you to slump into the Ferrari seat.

“I almost touched the clouds,” you try as he clicks his tongue, large hands maneuvering the wheel to reverse out of the parking lot. More like you almost met God. You groan as you turn your music up and roll the window down. You know how much he hated not being able to hear you and talk to you. Or how he hated not being able to see your pretty face when the wind makes your hair fly all over the place. Can you please stop? Bobbing your head up and down to the beat, you look out at the scenery.

“You’re being a brat-”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean - you’re being an angel!” He pulls his phone out before handing it over to you carefully, as if you would bite his head off at any moment. “Go ahead and pull up the directions, preciosa.”

As soon as he parks on the beach, you hop out, giddy with excitement. His hands flies up to fix his sunglasses that were beginning to slide down his nose. He squints at the bright sun. We don’t have the proper attire. Silently, you grab the keys from him as you open the trunk. Neatly, inside a tote bag, is your bikini and his swim trunks. He chews the inside of his cheek. Of course, he mutters as you take his hand and drag him along.

“I know you!” With a firm smile, the Spaniard waves at the older lady. Hello. Rushing past him, she waddles her way over to you. Despite being confused, you still let out a bright smile. Scanning you up and down, she nods excitedly. “I knew it was you!”

Growing a bit protective over this weird encounter, Carlos stands in front of you and forces a polite grin. And it’s almost as if you have no idea over the concept of danger because you just run around him and start introducing yourself. He shakes his head in disapproval, floppy brown hair following.

“I’m Tori! I was your instructor last time you were here! I could never forget someone so pretty.” She turns her attention over to the tall Spaniard. “She almost died on my watch, too. I thought you were about to throw a lawsuit on me.”

“I would have-”

“He’s kidding!” You lean in to hug her as if you're a long lost sister. He makes sure to hold onto the back of your skirt, ready to fling you back. Just in case. “What do you say we just forget about any of that, Tori? I wanna get on the jet ski.”

“Long forgotten! Let’s go.”

Carlos is left with his jaw on the floor as he glares at you both skipping away together.

“Nos vamos a morir.”

“I’m breaking up with you.”

“No. You’re not.”

You narrow your eyes at Carlos as you cross your arms in frustration. He doesn’t even bat an eye at your actions; let alone your words. “I will if you continue threatening me.” Turning to face Tori, who stands next to the white jet ski, you raise your hands up in alarm. “He’s threatening me, Victoria.”

“Por favor…” He rolls his brown eyes. “I’m only doing this because I love you. And because I want us to live a long and happy life together. Have a kid or two?”

“This won’t be the end of the world! I just want to drive it.”

Pressing a quick peck on your pink lips, he shakes his head. “Not this time.”

With a grumpy attitude and a deep frown, you eventually oblige. Taking you by the hand, he helps you take a seat behind him as he reaches out for the keys. Tori smiles. Just ignite it and off you go! Enjoy the ride.

“Mierda,” he gasps as he resurfaces from the water. Treading to keep afloat, he turns his head with urgency to find you. His heavy pants are the only thing being heard as he slowly loses his mind. Feeling something tickle his lower calf, he yelps as he lets out a strong kick against the tides. Poking your head out from underneath the blue waves, you choke on salt water.

“Asshole! You kicked my face!”

“I didn’t know that was you!”

Brushing long strands of wet hair off your eyes, you muster a dirty look. A large smile hugs his lips. “And you said I drive bad…What happened to being an F1 driver?”

Regardless of you pouting over his shoulder, you had eventually found yourself enjoying gliding through the waves. You could’ve sworn you saw a mermaid, too. Though, you can’t exactly pinpoint the moment your boyfriend lost control and sent you two flying.

He gapes before rubbing his hand against his jaw . You shudder. “I drive cars for a living, not jet skis…” You let out a teasing smile. Whatever you say, mi amor.

After your rescue from Tori and the crew, you both agreed to call it a day and just head back to your hotel. Except now, you wouldn’t let the story die.

“He was like, ‘I’ll keep you safe, baby. Don’t you worry, baby.’ He didn’t even last 5 minutes!” Folding over, you twirl all over the bed as you laugh; a frowning Spaniard holding the phone out. Lando cackles loudly from the other side of the FaceTime call.

“And he said you’re the bad driver.”

Jumping up, you nod profusely. “My fucking point!” The brunette briskly ends the call before tossing the phone onto the counter. I think that’s enough, don’t you think? You bite back a much needed smile as you shrug. “I’m gonna go take a quick shower, old man.”

Carlos would like to say that his ego wasn’t hurt, but that would be a complete lie. Maybe it was just a tiny bit bruised. Your words circle his mind as he grows more annoyed. He knows he shouldn’t be because he knows you meant it all as a joke, but now he feels like he has a point to make.

He still had some control.

Humming to yourself, you calmly finish rinsing your hair, making sure to get all the shampoo out. You’re about to turn around to grab your vanilla body wash, when a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist. You scream as you push away, slipping and falling on your butt.

“Oh shit.” Aiming a harsh look at the 29 year old, you throw your head back as you let out a deep sigh. Why, Carlos, why? Hurrying to help you stand up, he kisses you all over your collarbones. “I’m sorry! I just wanted to surprise you!”

“Consider me surprised.”

His long fingers brush down your waist and in between your thighs. You let out a small whimper. “Forgive me? For almost killing you twice in one day. It wasn’t my intention.” He slips in a large finger. “You know it wasn’t my intention.” Your eyes have fluttered shut as you nod. I know it wasn’t. He smiles as he starts circling his finger inside your velvety walls. Letting out a moan, you rest your forehead against his chest.

The temperature of the warm water and the sounds you’re releasing are enough for him to become a tad bit too needy. Pulling his fingers out, he licks them before looking down at your confused expression. Without a single warning, he lifts you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his torso. You shake your head; eyes wide with worry.

“We’re gonna die if we do this.”

He shrugs, a long strand of hair pressed down against his face from how wet it’s become due to the running water. “What’s one more close call?” You’re about to protest, but that quickly goes out the window when you feel him thrust inside of you. Moaning in unison, you tug on his brown hair.

“You’re insufferable.”

“I don’t care.”

Not a single time during your entire relationship have you done anything like this, so, it came as a complete surprise for him to be so good at not dropping you and being able to keep his dirty rhythm. Mewling against his lips, you clench around him harder when he keeps brushing against your g-spot.

“Oh-”

Pressing his lips deeper against yours, he groans. “Stop fucking talking.” But you’re too fucked in the head to register his words. Oh God, Carlos. Shit, shit, shit. You run your nails against his broad shoulders. Just like t-that. Fuck- He slaps a large hand over your mouth as he flickers his dark gaze to you. You can physically feel your soul leave your body. “I said to shut up.” He thrust harder as your eyes squeezed shut. “Shut up or I’m seriously going to lose my mind and I will drop you.” Blinking fast, you nod as you bite down on your bottom lip.

You would do anything in order for him to keep going.

It doesn’t take long for you both to finish together; ropes of white cum painting your insides. Letting out a shaky breath, you lean your head against the wall. He smiles as he sucks down on your neck. Giggling, you pull away as you grin ear to ear. “Where’d you learn how to do that?”

“I had this one girlfriend-” You pinch his ear with all your might as he lets out a squeak in pain. “¡Era broma!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t find your joke funny.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. It wasn’t right for me to say that.” Craning his head down to make you look at him, he lets out a weak smile. “There’s only you, for me. That’s it. No one else matters.”

Climbing down, you kneel down in front of him, taking in his large figure and delicate hand wrapping around his hard cock.

“Best believe there’s no one else.”

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manjjiros · 4 months

Text

TRICKED YOU!

ran haitani / rindou haitani / sanzu haruchiyo x gn!reader (separate)

cws: suggestive but fluffy, like actually kind of tooth rotting, little white lies, established relationship (ran), situationships (rindou, sanzu), discussions of drug usage (sanzu), bonten timeline, ask to tag

from the ASM: tricking the trio into getting some rest isn’t exactly easy. but the probability of getting it to work is not exactly zero, either.

over the loudspeaker: @sin-and-punishment

— RAN HAITANI.

“raaaan,” you whined into the receiver, rolling over in your sheets and letting them rustle against your phone.

you heard your poor boyfriend let out a breath on the other end of the line. “what’s the matter, angel? i’m a little tied up at the moment.”

you knew he was, obviously, or you wouldn’t be calling. you knew his schedule inside and out by now, when he had meetings, when he ran off on sudden jobs to handle important business you had no interest in knowing about.

it was always a little more fun to be able to pull him from some boring, dreadful meeting than when he was free to join you.

“come home,” you breathed, and you heard the way he hummed in the back of his throat.

“i can’t, come on. you know this. don’t make me feel bad.”

“but the bed’s cold, ran. aren’t you gonna come make it warm again?”

there was a brief pause and some speaking in the background. clearly he was in a meeting, which you had expected.

“warm up yourself, angel-“

“no, come home. i just want you.”

ran grunted into the phone, and you heard him pull the device from his ear and shout towards the voices in the background. it was muffled and broke up a bit; the reception in abandoned warehouses typically wasn’t the best.

“ran?”

“i’m here. just- stay put. ‘m coming. you gonna be good f’ me?”

“yeah.”

“fine. see you soon.” he hung up, and you smiled to yourself, successful in your endeavor.

you’d left the door open for him and left a set of sleep clothes at the edge of the bed for him. he hadn’t been sleeping, you knew that; the circles under his eyes and the way he forced himself out of bed in the mornings gave it away. something must have happened, or maybe something resurfaced — he hadn’t told you yet, but you could make an educated guess.

ran arrived at your place within the half hour, the heels of his slick shoes clicking along the floorboards as he made his way towards your room where you waited for him, cuddled up in your duvet with the lamp light casting everything in a warm yellow.

he nudged the door open with a huff, smiling briefly before pausing. “i have to admit, this isn’t what i was expecting.”

“what, don’t wanna just nap?”

“i thought you were calling for a hookup.”

“dirty mind! i never said that,” you giggled at his exasperated face before pulling back the covers to give him space. “come on, baby. you look exhausted. you’ve got bags under your eyes.”

“don’t say that shit, my eyes are fine.”

“because you steal my eye cream!” you pouted then, folding your arms at his pushback.

he grumbled at you but ultimately eyed up the empty space next to you in the bed, letting out a loud sigh.

“cant believe i left the meeting to come take a nap. what is this, high school? i used to do this shit as a kid. play hooky and sleep in weird places.” he yawned as he spoke, undressing his three-piece suit in exchange for the t-shirt and shorts you left out for him. you just nodded along and patted the space next to you for him to climb into.

he joined you, eventually, long limbs grabbing onto you to pull you in close and bury his face in your chest. you smiled as the scent of his cologne floated up around you, the smell of his hair gel right under your nose.

it felt like it was barely two minutes before your talkative boyfriend was knocked out against your chest, your fingers combing through his hair.

— RINDOU HAITANI.

to: annoying prick

me: come over.

annoying prick: how about a please?

me: come over Now. miss you.

annoying prick: i screenshotted that for evidence.

me: i hope you crash on your way here.

annoying prick: i didn’t say i was coming? smfh.

you rolled your eyes at your phone as you fussed with the string of his hoodie around your finger. rindou never listened when you invited him over, always giving you a hard time despite expecting you to bend to his will whenever he wanted to see you.

oftentimes things happened on his terms, not yours. which normally isn’t a problem, except for this one time when you wanted to fuck with him.

your finger hovered over the call button before you opted for another direction, opening up your camera and taking a quick photo of his hoodie string between your teeth, cute and suggestive and alluring. you made sure to get most of your upper body in the shot, laid back against your pillows.

me: [1 image]

me: come over? now?

annoying prick: is that my

annoying prick: cheap shot. stay there. don’t even think about touching.

you laughed at how quickly his tone changed, shaking your head at his ridiculousness. he was a grown man, sure, but he was rude and mean and often thought with his dick rather than his head.

you heard the revv of his bike engine before you saw it through his window, clicking your tongue when you spotted him without a helmet. you understood that he was some sort of criminal, but you kind of liked him, sort of, and didn’t actually want him to crash and die.

you watched him park the bike illegally in front of your place and hop off of it quickly, straightening out the front of his suit jacket as he walked up towards the door.

you heard him grumble when the door was locked, fucking around for the spare key before finally getting inside your home and beelining towards your room.

you broke into giggles as he shoved your door open and undid the front two buttons of his suit jacket, trying to clamber over your body on the bed. “tease, calling me home from bein’ busy just to fuck around, what are you-“

“aht,” you stopped him with a finger to his chest, shaking your head, “not what i invited you here for.”

he stared back at you, hesitating and hovering over your form. “excuse me?”

you chose that exact moment to whip out the puppy eyes, jutting out your bottom lip and laying back on your pillows, “my bed was cold, rin! just wanted you to come over and take a nap with me.”

he gawked at you before sitting up on his knees and running a hand through his hair. “are you being fucking serious?”

“yes.”

“you invited me over. to nap?”

“mhm. and now you’re here. so let’s take one.”

“what the-“

“please?” you cocked your head and tried the puppy eyes again, to which he made a face, but didn’t necessarily move away.

“i don’t have-“

“you leave clothes here all the time. i have some set out in the bathroom.”

“fuck you.”

“maybe next time.” you broke into laughter as he succumbed to his fate, getting out of your bed to disappear down the hall into your bathroom. he returned within five minutes, having changed into a pair of pajama pants and forgetting his shirt, standing at the side of your bed awkwardly.

“well? come in, i’m exhausted.”

“this is weird.”

“no it’s not. just lay down, asshole.” you huffed and pulled back the covers for him. he squinted at you, having taken his contacts out, before reluctantly crawling into the bed next to you. you snuggled up against his side, to which he tensed, but ultimately ended up wrapping an arm around you anyway.

he fell asleep before you did, mouth open and drooling all over your pillow. you took a photo, not because you liked him or anything… well…

— SANZU HARUCHIYO.

convincing sanzu to listen to you at all was like trying to train a poodle. it was very, very difficult because he was very, very defiant.

you knew he hadn’t been sleeping well. you knew it well, unfortunately; his work was catching up to him and drugs weren’t your favorite solution to the problem.

you told him time and time again that he needed rest, that it was because you cared that you were nagging at him, and yet he always bit right back at you like a dog nipping its owner’s hand.

you had had enough. so you decided to play the game.

you sat in his car waiting for him to finish some job in some remote part of the red light district, in a back alley with no prying eyes or lights, really.

you sat in wait until finally sanzu reappeared in the faded yellow light of the nearest street lamp, wiping his hands on a handkerchief and kicking a lead pipe against the wall. you chose not to question his line of work.

he grinned when he saw you in the passenger’s seat, as if he had forgotten you were there, and hurried around to the driver’s seat to get in and lean into your space.

“all done now, baby.” he pressed kisses to the corners of your lips, making you giggle before he caught your mouth with his own.

you hummed against his lips, lifting a hand to curl your fingers around his tie. “haru,” you breathed, tugging lightly on the fabric, “can we please get home? wanna get into bed with you…”

he pulled back slightly to meet your gaze with his own crazed one, eyes studying you almost clinically as a grin spread across his face. “oh yeah? baby wants to get home?”

“mhm.”

“hell yeah, i’ll get you fuckin’ home.” he pulled back from you to start the car, and you gripped the oh-shit handle because you knew he was just going to peel out of the alleyway.

and that he did, whipping down side streets and revving the engine, one hand on the wheel and the other gripping your thigh.

you giggled to yourself as you watched the veins in his arm, shaking your head. he just had no idea how easy he was to fool.

it took far shorter of a time than it should have to get back to your place, and he parked before hurrying out of the car and getting the passenger door for you.

you got out and led him to the door, feeling him stalk your every movement, only ever one step behind you. you unlocked your door and kicked your shoes off with a laugh as he tried to pin you against the nearest wall, freeing yourself from his grasp and making your way towards your room.

he grunted as he followed you, muttering something about you being a tease.

you turned on your heel once you got to your room and took a seat on the bed. “much better. i’m so tired, haru.”

“huh?”

“let’s just go to bed, how about it?” you started to get undressed as he stood in your doorway, scarred lips twitching with confusion.

“what are you talking about?”

“haru, let’s go to bed. i know you’re tired too.”

“no, this is-“

“no buts.” you stood to shimmy out of the rest of your clothing and tug your pajamas on. “strip and cuddle with me.”

haru wasn’t a cuddler, not by a long shot. but, with you…

he felt like he blinked, and suddenly he was on his back in your bed with you at his side in the dark. you snuggled up closer to him and ran your fingers through his hair.

soon enough, his breathing evened out, and you smiled to yourself as his grip on you grew tighter in his sleep.

#ran haitani x reader #rindou haitani x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #tr x reader #♧ — ran haitani #♧ — rindou haitani #♧ — sanzu

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choiyawnzjun · 5 months

Text

next part

pairing ; nerdychurchboy!jake x afab!reader

sypnosis ; the nerd at church isn’t quite as innocent as you think.

genre ; smut

wc ; 1110

warnings ; making out, dry humping, orgasm denial, oral ( f receiving ), fingering ( lemme know if i missed anything )

you always thought that you would never talk to the new boy that had come to your school just a few months ago. he always hung out with that school clique nobody really cared about. however, he did go to that church your parents would force you to go to with them every sunday but you guys still never talked. that was until you both became partners in physics. after that, you guys would talk every so often. even in church.

he was friendly but.. he was such a neek. you hated it so much because he was always talking about these science things to you that you would never understand. you thought that he would always stay a silly virgin if he was just going to talk about science the whole time with people. you never told him that, of course. but… one day you got carried away.

“gosh, you know electrolysis just-..” you cut him off, you guys were in the church attic together, you decided to skip the mass today and just chill upstairs, you were going to be alone but jake decided to tag along. at first, you were hesitant to let him go with you since you knew he would just talk about science the whole time but you thought that maybe he wouldn’t this time. however, you were wrong.

“oh my god, jake!” you whisper-shouted, throwing your head into your hands, getting frustrated about hearing him ramble like this all the time.

“do you ever talk about anything else other than science? like, at first i was fine with it until i got sick of it. i’m not even sick of it anymore i’m just worried about you now.” you rambled on, not looking at him even once.

“why worried?” he asked, perplexed by the sudden comments you were making now. he hadn’t realised he’d been talking about science so much.

“how are you going to even get girls if you’re just gonna talk about science all day long? like, that’s no fun is it now?” you scoffed, you looked up to see his blank face turn into a cocky smirk as he slowly walked over to you and knelt down on one knee to face you.

“what do you mean? of course i’m fun. i just haven’t shown you it yet.” you were the one confused now as he just stared at you, waiting for your response.

“what do you mean ‘you just haven’t shown me yet’ like, shown me what?” your voice being soaked in absolute confusion and curiousness, you stared back at him, observing every single detail on his face.

“well, i didn’t really wanna be doing things you weren’t okay with.” he shrugged, now sitting down next to you. you stayed silent for a few moments, not having a clue on what to say next. you didn’t really know what he was talking about.

you were so immersed inside your own world that you hadn’t realised he had gotten closer to you, gazing at you with his dark brown eyes.

“what?” you awkwardly laughed, trying to avoid eye contact with him.

“can i kiss you?” he casually asked, cheekily smiling at you. you were hesitant at first by the sudden question but you didn’t really mind. it was just going to be one innocent kiss, right?

you leaned closer to him and your lips moulded together like two perfectly puzzle pieces that matched. his lips were pillowy which you loved and the only thing that surprised you was that he was a very good kisser. like very good.

he slipped his tongue into your mouth when you slightly gasped for breath and he pulled you onto his lap. you both pulled away from each other for a few seconds, his glasses were foggy and his eyes looked hazy and were half-closed. he tugged on your shirt, asking for permission to unbutton it which you gave. he impatiently unbuttoned your shirt as you were both giving each other sloppy kisses. the wetness you were getting down there grew and grew that you started to grind onto him.

“shit, i can feel your pussy throbbing on me.” he groaned, rubbing your thighs with his hands.

“i wanna feel you so bad, jake.” you complained, fiddling with his belt, wanting it to magically come off him. this adorable action made jake chuckle a bit.

“be patient, don’t be a little brat, hm?” he smiled, leaning towards you and peppering you with kisses. he hiked up the dress you were wearing that complimented you a lot which turned jake on even more. he gazed down at your panties and was greeted with a wet spot on them.

“jesus christ, why are you so wet already? I’ve barely done anything. are you that desperate to get dicked down?” your face heat up from his remark but you could care less because what he said was true anyway. you haven’t had sex in a while so…

“can i?” he made you lie down on your back and he hooked your panties off with two fingers after you nodded. his face was now in contact with your slick-covered folds that were glistening in front of him.

“fuck..” he muttered underneath his breath which fanned against your clit. he slowly delve into your pussy, sucking and licking on your clit as if he hadn’t eaten in god knows how long. he inserted a finger into you and all you could do was cover your mouth to muffle the moans and whines that were begging to be thrown out into the air.

“why are you so good at this, jake?” you managed to let out, your legs fidgeting around until jake had to hold them down to keep you still. after what you said, he sucked onto your clit harder as if there was no tomorrow. he inserted another finger into you after your sudden comment.

the moans you were trying so hard to cover could not be covered anymore, your hands naturally grabbed jake’s hair as you bucked your hips against his face while he lapped against you.

“fuck! jake! i’m gonna cu-..” the tightening knot that was burning in your stomach slowly vanished as jake pulled away from you, your juices all over his chin and lips.

“sim jaeyun, why would you do that?” you cried, frustrated because you haven’t felt that good in so long.

“i still haven’t shown you how fun i am yet.” he shrugged, getting up and dusting himself off even though there was really nothing on him.

“maybe i’ll show you later when you’re begging for it.” he winked, leaving the attic.

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st6rrrs · 3 months

Text

TRAITOR || rafe cameron x fem reader

summary: the pogues find out yn's secret

warnings: cursing, arguing, soft rafe!!!, fluff?

a/n: idk if i should keep this into to a one shot or make a story!!!!

Part 2

˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗

you and rafe were in his bed talking when you realized what time it was, 5:29pm

"Shit rafe i gotta go" you said

you jumped off of the bed and quickly put your clothes on

"where are you going?" he asked getting off the bed also

"i gotta go to the chateau to meet up with the pogues"

he groaned.

you grab your backpack and head to the door but before you could open it rafe got in front of you.

"do you have to leave" rafe whines

"yes rafe, i'll be back in a couple of hours" you say

"fine" he groans again but louder this time, he walks back to the bed laying on it getting his phone out, you roll your eyes and exit the room.

˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗

you get on your bike and start pedaling towards the cut.

you and rafe have been dating for a couple of months now but you guys haven't told anyone yet. if the pogues find out that you and rafe have been dating they would be PISSED

thats one of the reasons you dont wanna go public, rafe honestly doesn't give a shit if anyone finds out because he will still love you and you would still love him.

you arrive at the chateau and you see the pogues on the front porch, Sarah was sitting next to john b? why was Sarah here?

kie disliked Sarah for as long as you can remember. When kie and Sarah were friends Sarah threw this party without inviting kie and kie got mad and called the cops.

"you know we were all extremely comfortable until you brought her."

you hear kie say as you approach them

"stop talking about me like im not here" Sarah says

"then leave."

"umm whats happening?" you mouth to pope and jj passing kie, Sarah, and john b them to busy arguing to notice you. You walk over to sit in between jj and pope.

"john b is banging Sarah" jj says while laughing

"WHAT" you almost yell

"oh look y/n is here, why dont we ask her opinion is on this" kie says

"please don't" you whine "but if im being honest i dont think its a good idea"

Sarah's scoffs

"oh you can talk" she says looking at you

"what?" you laugh

"like you aren't fucking my brother" she says rolling her eyes and looking away

you immediately go pale.

"is that true y/n?" kie ask you in disbelief

you don't answer her

jj gets up from beside you and just looks at you in disbelief. you look over at pope his hand on his forehead and he's shaking his head disappointed.

"you cant be fucking serious!" jj yells at you "he beat up pope with a golf club and then jumped us with topper and kelce"

jj has had a crush on you ever since you guys were 14 but you didn't feel the same way. Everyone always shipped you guys together but you wouldn't force yourself to date someone you didn't like You only liked jj as a friend but he never really listened to you.

"i-i-im sorry!! but he's different with me" you try to explain to them

"hes just gonna use you like he does every other girl on this island" Sarah says

"no he-" but before you could finish your sentence pope interrupted you

"just leave y/n." he said annoyed not looking at you

"g-guys please!"

"JUST FUCKING LEAVE JEEZ!" jj yells at you, you have never seen him this angry in the whole 7 years you knew him.

tears rolled down your cheeks as you looked at him. He had no remorse for what he said he was very angry and you could understand why but none of them even gave you a chance to explain yourself. You quickly grabbed your bag pack and left without looking back.

"AND DONT BOTHER COMING BACK EITHER! HAVE FUN WITH YOUR KOOKY BOYFRIEND" jj yelled before you could leave

˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ' -

you open the front door to the camerons household, rafe gave you the key when you guys started dating. the house was so quite and cold, you walk up the stairs to rafe room still sobbing.

you open his room door and hes sleep on his bed, it was sometime pass 7 you didn't want to wake him and you were exhausted yourself so you just laid next to him and got under the covers still sobbing quietly. you couldn't believe that jj would ever say that too you, it wasn't like him

you hear rafe groan awake

"y/n is that you" he says in his sleepy voice

"yea"

"are you crying?"

"im fine go back to sleep rafe."

"no.,whats wrong come here" he gestured so you could lay on his chest

you gave in and sobbed in his chest for a while until you fell asleep.

part 2?

this might be bad but i tried 😪 👍🏻

taglist:

@bbsxsaa @xxbutdaddyilovehimxx @drewstarkeyslut @stvrkey. @blondbrat @sevenwivesofrafecameron @tracymbcm

#rafe cameron #drew starkey x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks #jj mayback x reader #this is bad

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phas3d · 3 months

Text

Celebrity Crush Opposite || Slytherin Boys

type :: angst

tw/cw :: body image, insecurities

contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire

summary :: you freak out over your celebrity crush only for him to look completely opposite from them. this is a different version of THIS post i made a long time ago, sorry it's so late! - I love this idea so much omggg the angst?? the hurt?? insecurities??? GIVE IT TO MEEEE

DRACO MALFOY (enemies)

He's always mocked you for stupid reasons, like how you write your "a"s or how you hold your spoon

Once again, he was making his way to your typical spot at lunch to make fun of you

As he scanned your table, searching for something to mock you form, he made contact with a photocard in your hands

"GOD I WANNA GET HIM PREGNANTTTTT!!!" You shouted loudly as you sobbed into your hands

Your friends, oddly enough, nodded along with you and respected your comment

Draco thought it was outlandish but he shrugged it off, his mind was too busy staring into the soulless piece of paper you were holding

One thing about Draco is that he's always been popular with girls in school, even if they thought he was ugly, he knew they would find him cute or at least his asshole personality would let people think they could "fix him"

But for some reason, this simple piece of paper put a knot in his throat as he felt a pang of insecurity strike in him

Surprisingly, he broke his streak of daily mocking as he sat at his table, disappointed and hurt

What hurt even hurt was the fact that you didn't even notice that he didn't mock you today

How could you not tell he's flirting with you!!! (he literally spat in your food one time and call you a fat pig)

As he went to bed that night, he stared at the ceiling, getting flashbacks of the photocard like he was a war veteran

The cute Asian man with dark hair was drastically different from Draco in every way

Race, hair color, eye color, body shape, everything!

He couldn't help but feel insecure in himself, after all you're one of his longest ever crushes

Genuinely thinks of dying his hair black until Lorenzo and Blaise beg him not to

TOM RIDDLE (friends)

You were one of the only people to understand Tom and his weird antics making you two become friends

In return for accepting his weird habits, he was forced to deal with yours whether he likes it or not

He skipped one of his classes in order to stay behind and work with Professor Slughorn on a new potion they were learning

You gave him your notes from class, a very common thing between you two except normally Tom was the one sharing notes

As he looked at your shit handwriting, he started to see a theme in it

All over your notebook were drawings of some random actor?

Tom doesn't know pop culture very well so he asked you who it was in your books

"Who??? WHO??!? HOW THE FUCK DO YOU NOT KNOW MICHEAL B. JORDAN???" You said as your jaw hit the floor "HE'S THE FINEST MAN ON EARTH?!?!?!"

"Never heard of him."

"You're gonna hear me scream his name once I get my rose toy"

Tom has never been a big fan of anything popular since he strives to be different from everyone in every possible way

But for some reason, this interest of your in Micheal B. Jordan made him want to research him further

When you left, Tom instantly started to research Micheal B. Jordan until 3 A.M

For some reason, Tom felt upset? (He's jealous but doesn't even know he likes you)

He feels possessive, as if he should steal your notebook and rip out all your drawings of him and burn them

Actually... he might do that,

But, he can't help but compare himself to Micheal

In his head, he thinks it's because you said he the most handsome man ever,

But anyone with common sense could tell it was from him liking you

Tom doesn't change himself after this news though, he's not a pussy and knows he's fine already

But, he does hope that one day you can call him the finest man on Earth

MATTHEO RIDDLE (classmates)

Although he didn't know much about you, he's always wanted to

So when he heard you shout at the top of your lungs when you saw something on your phone, he was quickly interested

He's tried to get close to you multiple times by befriending your friends, going to your usual spots, and more

But for some reason, you two couldn't line up

So he decides to just walk up to you and ask you straight up what you're looking at and spark a converstation

He walks towards you as you spam your fist against the table

You begin to make gorilla sounds and bang your chest, "OO OO AHH AHHH OOOO AHHH!!!!!"

(inspo by my queen brittany broski)

Andddd he begins to take a step away.... He can't just walk back to his desk now since it will be awkward

So he continues to walk past you, slightly scared and weirded out by your behavior

He looks at your phone only to see a random singer with dark skin and locs

Mattheo didn't even need to check himself to know that he had no similarities to the celebretry that you love so much

And instantly, he's bummed to an extreme level

He's so used to being every girls ideal type that he can't stand the thought of the one girl that he ACTUALLY likes have the complete opposite taste of who he is

But that doesn't matter to him too much, since he's fully confident that he can get you to like him with some time

He's the only guy who I think would understand that it's just a celebrity crush and that it's not the end of the world

Because he knows he's hot

THEODORE NOTT (classmates)

Although he's a massive fuck boy, he still gets crushes every now and then, and you were his biggest crush yet

He's tried to flirt with you in the past, but he either stumbled his words or you just didn't understand what he was implying

So when he heard you across the room freaking out over some random actor, he was quick to run over and look

He got up so fast, doing his best to act natural as he pasts by your table

"For my birthday I want him to be oiled up with a bow on top"

Your crude humor was funny to him, he loved that you were unserious

As he passes by, he sees an older man with a fully grown beard and some wrinkles

He wouldn't be surprised if the man had children of his own that could ever be your own age

Although his face doesn't express much emotion, he couldn't hide how his eyes widened at that

He goes to his dorm and researches him to no end, finding out everything possible about the man only to get confused as to why you like him so much

It was a fully grown man with a wife and two kids, what appeal did he have?

Theodore is so lost and confused, he's not sure how to make you like him

He was hoping it would be Harry Styles, Chris Hemsworth, fuck it even Sam Smith - Because at least they were younger and looked attractive

But this was a fully grown man...

Theo feels so sad, thinking that he has no chance with you and sulks for the rest of the day

But his friends comfort him, reassuring him that he still has a chance with you since Theo could grow to be an old man with you

And that statement did make him blush a lil heehee

LORENZO BERKSHIRE (best friends)

Freaking out over hot people was something that he was used to girls in your grade doing

He never understood why people liked those different guys so much, but he didn't care since he basically looked like all of those celebrities in some way

But when he heard you playing the same edit audio over and over again, he needed to know who it was

And as he looked, he saw some random tan buff dude with a mysterious aura to him

You were basically drooling all over your phone

"I wanna stuff my face inbetween his man titties and suckle it like a starving baby"

Lorezno's brain was instantly able to picture that exact sentence, and he didn't like that at all

On instinct he cringes at your statement but laughs it off

As the day ends, he starts to overthink and compare himself to the guy you like so much

He was so much buffer, had a different skin ton, and even had a different hair color

Lorenzo has always been a bit insecure about his body since he was pretty lanky and lean which was the opposite of his friend group of Mattheo and Theo

He looks in the mirror whilst holding up a photo of of the random guy you like so much, picking himself apart

Once he finds out everything he needs to change, he breaks down first. but then gets to work

Pushing himself to fit your perfect type just so he can even have a sliver of a chance of being with you

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore x reader #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo x reader

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aridiary · 5 months

Text

HEAVEN AND BACK

(en- masterlist)

This is a new Masterlist!

This will be a masterlist of stories with each member of Enhypen based on some of Chase Atlantic's songs

some of the stories may be smut, anyway you will have the warnings in the respective story, and according to my rules I will NOT write smut for Sunoo and Riki.

Enhypen x f!reader (each y/n will be different for each member)

1. LEE HEESEUNG ; Meddle About

pairing : biker!hee x f!reader

genre : strangers to lover, smut

synopsis : Motorcycle racing was never your thing, much less when it was illegal but you were only going to see your dear brother, who stops being so loved when he leaves you for another girl while the police arrive at the place you were and you're forced to get on a stranger's motorcycle.

"Girl, just scream it out, tell me what you're thinking. No, I wanna see you undress now, i wanna hear you confess now."

release date : ???

2. PARK JEONSEONG ; Slow Down

pairing : CEO!jay x heiress!reader

genre : business connections, smut

synopsis : How could Jay be calm if now because of his father's kindness he would not only take charge of an entire company but also prepare you, the daughter of his deceased best friend, to become CEO? He was upset and refused completely, but after his father insisted so much he agreed. On the other hand, you're a little excited but a little nervous about spending time with Jay, since he was known for being a bit moody, but you had a charm that you bet yourself would make him be nice to you... or more than good.

"I'm burning up, yeah, all I see is red. She said, 'Fuck me like I'm famous', I said, 'Okay' "

release date : ???

3. SIM JAEYUN ; OHMAMI

pairing : rich!jake x famous daughter!reader

genre : enemies in public lovers in private, smut

synopsis : There is nothing worse than dealing with conceited and rich boys, especially when it was the son from the CEO of the most expensive car brand, Sim Jaeyun. Of course, you are also rich because your parents are actors, but you are different from him and you hate when they compare you to him or mention him when they are with you, because you hate him, you hate the way he shows off his money, you hate how he makes fun of you, you hate his smile when he looks at you... or maybe you don't.

"The foreign girls showing me love, telling your friends that you hate me, but I know that you can't get enough."

release date : ???

4. PARK SUNGHOON ; Friends

pairing : jealous!hoon x f!reader

genre : friends with benefits, smut

synopsis : What simply started out as fun and casual sex with your brother's friend is now getting way too complicated. You both swore that whatever happened between you two wasn't going to be anything serious, but what happened when things got out of control?

"And what the hell are we? tell me weren't just friends, this doesn't make much sense, no."

release date : ???

5. KIM SUNOO ; Right Here

pairing : neighbor!sunoo x f!reader

genre : boy next door, fluff

synopsis : Since you left your family as soon as you graduated from high school, some things got better and others got worse. You still try to open up to your friends about how you feel, but lately a lot of people talk about it to get attention and they think you're just another one. You were scared to go to the psychologist alone so you thought there was no one to support you, until you met him.

"Well, I don't give a fuck about your friends, i'm right here. Oh, baby, take a look around, i'm the only one that hasn't walked out."

release date : ???

6. YANG JUNGWON ; Moonlight

pairing : college student!jungwon x cafe employee f!reader

genre : he fell first but she fell harder, fluff, incorrect love

synopsis : You had been in a relationship with your boyfriend for 3 years and everything was going perfectly well until fate crossed you with that university student who went regularly and everything went to shit. Now everything was confusing, how could a boy that you saw for just an hour a day attract you so much?

"You tell me you're all out again, we're running in the moonlight. Could you show me the way again?"

release date : ???

7. NISHIMURA RIKI ; Slide

pairing : teenager bf!riki x teenager f!reader

genre : right person wrong time, sad, fluff

synopsis : You and Riki were very close, you had a lot of appreciation for him since he unconsciously made you smile whenever you were together and without knowing it he helped you with your anxieties. you started out as best friends and then you fell in love, you were just teenagers today who had fun and lived your youth to the fullest, what could go wrong?

"i can see the pain in your eyes, i don't wanna say that im god but, i'll take you to heaven if you die."

release date : ???

Taglist : . . .

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imrllytootiredforthis · 1 year

Text

something new

pairing: Minho x reader

summary: Minho’s trying subbing for the first time but doesn’t want to admit that perhaps he likes it just a little bit more than he lets on

warnings: dom (switch) reader, sub (switch) minho, lots of bdsm mentions, rimming, anal fingering, nipple play, minho gets called kitten a lot, praise kink, throat-fucking (with fingers), sensitive thighs!minho, some communication issues, jealousy, glasses minho for like 2 seconds (yes, that needs a warning)

word count: 8.1k (holy shit i'm so sorry)

a/n: thanks everyone for being so patient for how long it took to get this out. the beginning is a bit different than it is in the teaser but it's still the same concept

A soothing hand trails over his hipbone.

It’s coaxing, lulling, making his head turn fuzzy, thoughts becoming a jumbled mess...

But he can’t.

He wants to...or does he?

No time to think, no time to process the thought even. Not before your dark laugh is in his ears, low and slightly raspy, filling his body with a kind of heat he'd never had the pleasurable (?) experience of hearing before.

“You ready?”

He shivers involuntary to his traitorous body, biting back a heavy moan at the feeling of your lubed up fingers slick against his hole.

“Yeah, yeah, just hurry up.” He impatiently pushes, sounding annoyed, almost agitated.

It throws you off a bit, nearly makes you pause.

But you can tell. From years of knowing him, from years of him being the closest person in your life.

You can read his expressions like a book, his body language like it's your own. His body, each and every sensitive little spot, like his thighs and that spot on his jaw right beneath his ear, you know it like the back your hand.

And it's easy to tell with the way his eyes are slightly glazed over-by the way his hips grind down onto your fingers.

Desperation and a tinge of something unfamiliar fills his words as he scrambles to keep his composure. “Let’s just get this over with. I wanna have my fun with you ne-” His voice cracks, cutting off mid-word, voice turning hoarse and weak.

A “Fuck!” that's immediately followed up by a gasp.

Your hand stays on his hip before trailing a bit higher in an effort to get him to relax a bit. "Doing so good for me, such a good boy."

He hisses in reply, biting down on his bottom lip so hard he's almost sure it'll burst, all in a silly attempt at trying to hold back the moan on the tip of his tongue.

The feeling of your fingers is awkward-not painful-just...odd.

He's never done this so it's understandable. Never let anyone else, or even himself for that matter, touch there. It's the feeling foreign object being forced inside a new space but slowly, ever so fucking slowly that he feels as if he's beginning to lose his mind, you start to move. Crooning into his ear, messaging his gummy walls, a hooded look taking over at the sight of him.

"How does it feel?" Hands clench the sheets so hard his knuckles turn white and his eyes squeeze shut. "Tell me...kitten."

Jesus. The word sounds so good rolling off your tongue. So completely and utterly intoxicating that he almost, almost allows himself to let go.

But he catches himself just in time.

"Do you like it?"

Because fuck, fuck, he doesn’t want to admit it.

Admit that maybe, just maybe he feels good under your control. That maybe he’s been craving for longer than he's suggested.

"Nngh,"

The sound is so soft you nearly miss it, but not quite. And you can feel your own body getting hotter and hotter from just this. From him. From his reactions, the way his body moves in small twitches and his eyes struggle to stay focused.

And the thing is, he tries so, so hard the control the noises he lets out that the lower half of his body moves on instinct, thighs tensing before falling slack and finally apart, spreading wide open for you and desperately, needily moving.

You barely have to do any of the work as he begins to fuck himself on your fingers, movements quick and sharp, hitting deep inside of him in a nearly violent way, warm walls clamped down hard around the two fingers.

“God, you’re so fucking tight baby.” You coo, watching in lustful fascination,

“F-fuck, don’t say that type of shit. I-i swear when I-m do-ne with y-you-“ He cuts off into a broken moan and despite the way his mouth clamps shut, it comes all the same.

Fingers clench the bedsheets, hard enough to make his knuckles turn white, teeth gritting down so hard he’s almost convinced they’ll shatter.

“Loosen up a bit baby, it’s okay, let me take care of you.” Your voice fucking purrs into his ear, an involuntary shudder ripping through his demeanour, body nearly shaking, goosebumps breaking across his skin.

A mewl crawls up his throat and he swallows thickly, trying to hold it back, trying to keep composure, trying to stay-

“Does it feel nice...” The teasing tone already has him spiralling, but what’s just a little bit further? What’s just a little bit more? You smirk lightly, tongue gliding over to wet your lips in a sinfully teasing way.

His heart pounds wildly in his chest. “C’mon, you’ll be a good little kitty? Won’t you?”

He can feel it. Your tongue, warm and wet around the shell of his ear. Your whisper, your words deposited straight into his head, engraving into his innermost desires.

“All you gotta do is jus’ tell me what you want, tell me how you want it.” You growl. "Faster?" He nearly chokes on his own spit as you do exactly that, fingertips catching on the rim as you move quickly in and out of him.

"Harder?" Stars swim in his vision when your fingers meet his prostate for the very first time, abusing the oh-so sensitive spot, hitting it over and over and...

Fuck.

He squirms underneath your weight on top of him.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

And then you stop and he can't help the anguished cry that falls from his red and bitten and puffy lips that you wanna taste so, so badly.

Heat raises in his cheeks, up his neck and his face, tinting him up to the very tip of his ears such an endearing shade of pink. So cute, so delectable.

God, you could just eat him alive.

You blatantly ignore his greedy movements, quiet, needy, high-pitched noises coming from deep in his throat as your hand trails up his body to cup his cheek. "Just tell me pretty kitty~"

It gives him a second to think.

A second to recollect himself.

A second to doubt all of this.

And...

Silence.

And more silence.

Just as quick as that adorably compliant look had appeared, it was gone and despite the bright colouring still smattered across his features, a hardness fills his eyes.

“No.” His breathe his shaky. "Stop."

The words hit a little bit harder than you’d like to admit. You know he can see though, the way your smile drops and your shoulders droop ever so slightly.

Remorse shines brightly in his eyes, chest heaving in an attempt to catch his breath but he holds his ground. Screws his mouth up and simply returns your gaze as you falter and look away, doubt crossing filling your expression.

You knew that he was new to this…the submitting aspect of things. Knew that Minho wasn't the type to just lay down and take it. But when you had brought up the idea of it, he’d said he was down to try.

In fact, you weren't even the one to bring it up. It was all him. All because he’d been helping you pack up your things.

Minho had asked you to move in with him a few weeks ago and you were elated, obviously agreeing to this next big step in your relationship.

Problem: your current place was a mess of junk with sentimental value and stuff you didn’t really need but insisted on keeping.

Honestly, it was almost like one of the tamer episodes of Hoarders.

You remember, you’d been packing up your closet and clothes, folding things and putting them in boxes and Minho had been in your room, clearing out whatever junk you kept in your nightstands and under your bed.

“Y/N?”

You hummed in reply, “What is it baby?”

The sound of shuffling reached your ears and when he spoke again it was much closer. “What is this?”

You twisted your body, straining your neck to see what he could possibly be talking about and…

Oh,

Oh.

In his hand, pinched between two fingers was a simple leather collar, black in colour with a silver buckle. A tag attached to the front ring, slightly swinging from his movements.

Minho himself had an unreadable expression. Blank in his await for a response.

Your lips pursed, unsure how to quite formulate one.

You avoided his gaze and he walked closer, taking your undivided attention. “What is this?” He repeated.

Now it was no surprise that you were kinky. Both you and Minho were, your relationship definitely being more on the adventurous side but, well you’d always let him take the lead on things, letting him take up a more dominant role in that area.

And it was quite obvious from the tag, shimmering in the artificial lighting in the room, the tiny letters engraved into it reading ‘pretty boy’.

One could assume that you weren’t the one wearing but administering it from that…

“What does it look like?”

His eyes flickered to the thing as if maybe taking a second look would prove to answer all his questions.

“Well I know it’s a collar,” he replied, almost snootily. “I’m not dumb, I’m just not so sure why ‘pretty boy’ is on it and why you’ve got it…is there something you need to tell me?”

Truth be told, you definitely could’ve told him sooner.

About your past relationships where you stood in the role that he did. That this was one of your first times not being the dominant one in a relationship.

You could’ve told him but really, you’d kind of given up on it already.

Ever since you were discussing everything; the things you guys were open to, the things you weren’t, limits, safe words, etc, you had tried to hint it to him.

Suggest kinks and offhanded comments that would allude to it but it was the first time you’d seen your very smart and normally able to read between the lines boyfriend so inept, unable to put the pieces together.

Plus, he was very intent on domming, and when you told him you were fairly new to subbing he was ecstatic to show you everything.

“Well? Is there?”

Your mouth opened, a response ready on the tip of your tongue...but nothing. Your mouth shut and so instead you put down everything you were doing and sat on the floor, patting on the space in front of you. “Sit.”

He seemed to contemplate it for a second before following your lead, the thing still grasped in his hand. You sighed. “Just put the collar down.”

Again, he listened.

And, stupidly, but not regrettably, your brain formulated a response without your conscious deciding to.

“Good boy.”

Minho froze and your mouth clamped shut. “Sorry,” flew out in a rush and he nodded like he understood but you knew he didn’t, not really. Not with the way his body turned tense, falling rigid in place, cheeks a brilliant hue of pink.

The silence filled the room and the tag of the collar in the light caught your eye. You stared at it, counting the seconds in your head, recalling the memories that came flooding back with such a familiar object.

“I should’ve told you earlier, I know...it’s just...” Lamely, almost cringing at your own words, you trailed off, downturned eyes flitting up to read him.

His face is entirely blank, devoid of emotion, giving zero indication of how he feels.

It bugs you. That despite how well you know Minho that you can't read him. You've always been able to, especially with how long you've known him-long enough to move in with him-oh god was that still happening? Did you just ruin everything? Did he hate you now? Was he going to break up with you?

The thought process is broken with a single nod, his head bobbing down, eyes averted from yours. "It's...okay."

And...

You wait for him to continue but he says nothing more, gaze averted to look down at his hands which are fiddling around on his lap.

So you take a deep breath, hoping for the best. “Do you wanna say anything else?”

“Try it on me.”

“I know, it’s-wait, what?”

“Try it on me.”

That had been the last thing you would've expected to come out of your partner's mouth, obviously not an unwelcome answer, in fact you were elated but...it was surprising to say the least.

After that you'd talked for a bit.

You'd asked him to elaborate a bit, tell you exactly what that entailed and what he wanted from it, what he expected from it.

It was his first time and he wanted to go slow.

Nothing big like those 10 inch monster strap-ons seen in those hard-core femdom porns or too rough like any kind of impact play, but-somewhat shyly, in a completely out of character Minho fashion-he admitted that awhile ago he'd come across something about rimming that caught his interest.

And with the way he turned all red and embarrassed on you as he explained it, well, long story short, even the idea of it was more than enough to get you on-board.

----

“No.”

"Stop."

That's all it takes. That's all you had discussed it would take.

Eyes flash up at his face while gently pulling your fingers out of him, trying to be tender and not do anymore damage that you might've already done.

"Shit. 'M so sorry-did I go too far?"

His body squirms in a futile protest, clenching around you, his eyes screwing shut as he lets out a breathless groan, followed by a weak whine.

In pain? Maybe?

Trying to soothe him, you hush him, whispering small praises that just seem to agitate him more, "No. No...what're you doing?" he reaches for you, trying to grab at your arms and whining again.

His body laid tense, you raise up on your haunches, easily brushing his pawing hands away from your body.

"I think that this is enough for tonight Minho." Your voice is gentle, hands soft as you brush the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead. It does nothing to soothe his panicked, inarticulate protests.

"No!" His legs wrap around your hips, pulling your body close against his, his lips beginning to pepper soft kisses down your neck and collarbone.

What does he want? What is he trying to do? After telling you to stop and now doing this.

You push him away again by the shoulders this time with a sense of finality. Your warm hands made contact with his skin making him shiver.

You eyes are calculating as you try to read him, face serious. That's all there is for a second before you sigh and move to the edge of the bed, putting some space between the two of you.

"Look Minho," He did, intently staring at you. "You need to tell me what you want. I need to know that you're completely on board with all this." You wince, looking for the best words. "Because, I don't know, you tell me to stop and then act like that, I-i don't understand. And that kinda makes me feel like you're just doing this because I want to?"

He opens his mouth to speak but is cut before he can say anything. "And I don't want that. I want you to be enjoying this too and feeling good and safe. So...if you could just tell me what you're feeling?"

Minho looked at you and you looked back, completely wordless.

There were a million things racing through his mind, so many things he wanted to say.

But his throat couldn't work. Was his pride too high? Was he scared?

He had never had anything he felt like he couldn't share with you before. He never felt like you would judge him or scrutinize him. Especially when you wanted this too.

Why couldn't he say them?

When he wanted this too?

So all you got in reply was an animated nod. And you tried to smile back but it was weak. "Okay. So what do you need? Do you wanna take a shower? I could make you some lunch if you want and we can eat it together in bed...or we can always order food, there's that place you really liked last time?"

He looks anywhere but at you, fingers playing with a loose thread on the sheets. "Could you maybe...could you maybe just hold me?" The words came out quiet but seemed like a scream in your ears. "I mean-you don't have to-I just-"

"-Of course baby." You crawled over to him and wrapped your arms around his body, hugging him close, pulling the sheets up to cover you.

He went rigid for a second before relaxing with a contented sigh, shutting his eyes and curling into you. "Thank you."

"There's nothing to thank me for."

The silence followed wasn't awkward but Minho couldn't help but feel that way, listening close to your chest as your breathing slowed and eventually he knew you were asleep.

He knew he should be soon to follow. Warm and comfortable and close to you, and any other night he would've already been asleep too.

But he couldn't.

And it wasn't just because he was undeniably still very hard, his body still hot and aching for some kind of touch of release.

It was also because he couldn't stop thinking. Couldn't stop looking down at you, asleep, and feel like there was more he could've said. More he definitely should've said.

But didn't.

----

Nothing had been said about it since. Not a single word from you or from him for that matter.

You acted as if it never happened. Not in an angry or silent treatmenty kind of way but in a way that you were acting the exact same as before, no changes in anything, not hostile or bitter.

It confused him just as much as it frustrated him because it would've been amazing if he actually wanted to forget about it. If he hadn't stayed up all of that night coming up with what he was gonna say when you brought it up the next day.

And he waited for you to because it wasn't like he could.

But you didn't.

You stayed firmly in your place as if you actually forgot it ever happened. Nothing out of the ordinary. God, it was infuriating.

He meant to try to bring it up. Many times. When you sat at the table, eating dinner together. Or when he glanced over at you before bed, on your phone.

The words would tingle on his lips, ready to pour out, but then you'd catch his stare, smile gently in that way that made his heartbeat quicken and ask him what he was thinking about.

And then he'd chicken out.

It's been a week now and you haven't had sex since, not necessarily odd since he'd normally be the one to initiate it.

How was he supposed to though?

When all he wants is for you to shove him down and mess him up so entirely he won't be able to remember his own name.

When, when he takes a shower now, his fingers begin to touch places they never have, venturing down, trying to replicate the feeling that your's did.

Closing his eyes and imagining that they're yours. His mind trying to vividly remember the way that your voice sounded, raspy and commanding, whispering into his ears.

'Let me take care of you.'

'You'll be a good kitty? Won't you?'

'Just tell me what you want, tell me where you want me to touch you.'

Reliving the moment over and over in his head, arm covering his mouth to keep from whimpering as he falls apart on his own fingers, wishing that they were yours.

Trying to keep from being too loud because you're right outside the bathroom, pretending that nothing fucking happened.

Because he couldn't let you know like that. Couldn't let you know that even just imagining what you did to him makes him feel all fuzzy and floaty and high that it became new jerk-off material for him.

No, he couldn't let you know like that.

There was no way, it needed to be more special...well not necessarily more special...but definitely smoother.

So what better time than when you were your happiest of all?

Because as well as you knew him, he knew you just as well and knew everything that made you tick, knew what made you happy and what made you really happy.

And what made you really happy was days like this.

Days when you were both off from work and you'd wake up to something that smelt so good, your nose leading you to the kitchen where your beautiful boyfriend would be, hair still messy and, if you were lucky, glasses pushed up his nose as he made something that smelled absolutely heavenly.

Today in particular you must've been lucky because perched on his nose, making his look so absolutely delectable were his glasses.

Lucky or something along the lines of your boyfriend knowing you a touch too well.

Your arms wrapped around his torso, face buried into the back of his neck, making your voice some out slightly muffled. "Hey beautiful."

He smelled so good, like that specific brand of perfume he always wears, like warmth and comfort and a little bit of something that made you feel just a touch insane.

"You look good, what's the occasion?"

He sighed, ignoring the way his body reacted to the gravelly tone of your voice. "My glasses?"

You hummed in reply, warm breath fanning over his neck. "You know what they do to me. M' such a whore for you in glasses." You groaned, hands resting on his hips. "They just make you look so..." you trailed off without the right words to properly describe how good he looked in them.

The burner shut off and he moved the pan off the heat, turning around to face you. "Really? A whore you say?" He took your wrists in his hands, pulling them off of his hips and pushed you back against the counter.

You smiled teasingly at him. "Mhmm, they really just do something to me...you know that."

This was normally the point of your morning when he'd set you on top of the counter, or turn you around against it, sometimes back to the bedroom if either of you had enough patience for that-whatever available surface he could find to fuck you on.

He didn't though.

He frowned slightly and pulled your wrists down, pressing them under his shirt and letting go.

You obliged, watching in fascination as he held his breath, your hands, one planting on his hip, the other moving up, warm in travelling the expanse of his stomach and up toward his chest and pecs.

His body curled around yours, gripping the counter so hard his hands were near white, resting his chin of your shoulder, a breathy moan escaping as you brushed over his nipple.

"Y/N," He breathed, followed by something high and needy. It sounded so much like a plea, making something familiar begin to stir in your gut.

Was he...?

Did he want..."

You began to pull away but he stopped you, holding your wrists again to keep your hands where they were. "Don't." His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "Please...please don't."

He pulled back just enough to hold your gaze. Pulling you into a trance you couldn't seem to break out of.

And slowly he began to move your hands for you, not breaking eye contact all the while.

Letting the one still on his hip to come up, cupping his pec.

Taking the other out from under his shirt and right back up, until it was loosely pressed against his throat.

Your breath hitched, feeling his pulse thrum under your fingers.

Searching his eyes and trying-failing to read him. Trying-failing to find the words.

"Y/N." He whispered you name again. In that tone. In that wanton, desperate way. "I-i need-"

Words were cut off, trance broken, moment ruined as a knock at the door sliced through the tension like a knife.

Your head snapped toward the door but he clung desperately to your arms. "No, j-just ignore i-" Minho was once again cut off as the knock came again, accompanied with words this time.

"Y/N! I know you're home! I know when your days off are, you can't fool me!"

You groaned loudly, whispering an apology to your boyfriend before pulling away, talking your warmth with you but leaving a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach behind.

"The fuck you want Hyunjin?" You yelled, heading toward the door, opening it wide to find the blond boy mid-knock.

Hyunjin looked at you, the only slightly more annoyed than usual expression on your face than when you normally looked at him then to Minho, shirt rumpled, hands clenching the countertop, face red.

Then he smirked and walked in.

----

"I swear to god, I hate living with them!" Hyunjin groaned loudly. "The food, oh my god, I don't think it could get any worse, it's 24/7 protein powder and energy drinks, I don't think I've had a decent, edible meal in weeks-and oh, don't even get me started on the smells they bring in!"

You scoffed out a laugh. "What? Not into the gym bro stink?"

Why the hell was he even here?

Minho found himself wondering that over and over throughout the day, sometimes in his head, silently to himself, and sometimes out loud with a pointed look toward the 'he' in question.

What was Hwang Hyunjin doing in his house all day with you, when it was Minho who supposed to be spending your time with?

You two were friends-best friends-ever since you'd met, years ago, before you'd even known Minho. Hyunjin had actually been the one to introduce him to you.

It was nothing irregular for him to come home at the end of the day to see you hanging out or you mentioning that you were going out to hang out with him as you were heading out the door.

And Minho had never had a problem with that before today.

Before your best friend had cock-blocked and ruined his perfectly planned chance to finally tell you how he felt, a talk that would hopefully lead to more than talking.

Before nearly six hours had passed since he'd arrived, clearly overstaying his welcome in Minho's eyes.

And on the specific day he had finally built up whatever it took to actually act on his feelings.

On his day off. When he had nothing else to do but watch you two talk about whatever, bring up inside jokes and continue conversations, gossip about things that you'd never even mentioned to Minho before.

You guys were clearly close.

A lot closer than Minho had originally imagined. Was this normal?

The way that you were throwing your head back and laughing, the way you hit his arm, almost roughly while wiping tears of laughter from your eyes.

The way Hyunjin seemed to listen intently when you spoke, the way he nodded along and didn't try to talk over you like the other boys did.

He was probably reading into things. But those were both things that you did to him. That he did to you.

Did Hyunjin like you?

Hyunjin shared his feelings. Hyunjin told people exactly the way he felt-he wouldn't hesitate to tell you anything.

Did you like that?

Did you like Hyunjin? That he could share and talk about the things that Minho wouldn't?

No. No, he was just being paranoid. He was jumping to conclusions.

He needed to get out of here for a bit, distract his mind. So he pulled out his phone, sending out a quick text.

"Hey guys, imma head over to hang out with Han and Felix for a bit." You leaned up with a smile, closed your eyes as he pecked you on the forehead. " Love you."

Unsatisfied with just that you took him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him down and kissing him full on the lips. "Love you more, have fun!"

"Tell them I said hi!" Hyunjin called over as Minho slipped his shoes on.

"Mhm."

"Oh! And remember to put on a coat, it's getting colder out. Don't want your pretty face to freeze."

He scoffs in reply, biting back a smile. "Glad to know you just care about my pretty face."

"You know it." You wink back.

Hyunjin fake gags in disgust. "You guys are weirdly wholesome and I don't like it."

You stick out your tongue, shoving him with your foot. "You're just jealous-Bye baby!" You call as he pulls the door shut, feeling paranoid once again.

----

"And then he said 'No. Stop.', so I did y'know, but then afterward he seemed kinda upset, I don't know, I love him so much, I really just wish he wasn't so hard to read sometimes." You groan.

Hyunjin laughs, "sounds like someone else I know."

You scowl in reply. "Fuck you, my communication skills have gotten much better and we both know that."

He holds his hands up in surrender, nodding for you to continue.

A heavy sigh makes its way past your lips. "Like, I don't even know what to do anymore. Because, right before you came in he was putting my hands up his shirt and saying my name all...desperate and god, it was hot. But he was looking at me with those eyes, y'know?"

Hyunjin listened carefully. You remember the very first time you'd brought up relationship stuff to him, asking for advice years ago, thinking it was so embarrassing. If only then you'd know the type of relationship stuff you'd be sharing with him now.

"Well, I for one think you need to stop avoiding the subject. Tell him."

"But what do I tell him?" You deadpan.

"Tell him everything you just told me. Tell him how you feel."

You huffed, crossing your arms, not hearing the door slowly creak open. "Then why can't he say anything? I'm here grasping at straws-trying to help him! He said stop so I'm trying to make it easier for him by not bringing it up! If he wants it, he should just fucking tell me!"

The door slammed shut and your eyes widened, looking toward the sound to see Minho standing in the doorway. And unreadable expression laid across his face but the hurt in his eyes evident.

Hyunjin looked from you to him and then back at you. "Y'know, I think I gotta go to the bathroom, leave you guys to figure everything out."

"Hyunjin," you try to grasp at him for help but he's up and going already, leaving the room quickly with a quick awkward wave. You look helplessly toward he disappeared with a groan. Asshole.

Then you look back at Minho.

He kicks of his shoes and takes off his jacket. Why was he even back so soon? He left, you glance at the time on your phone, he only left like twenty minutes ago.

The question must be evident on your face because he shrugs. "They weren't doing anything interesting, so I came back."

You look back toward where Hyunjin left and then before you know it Minho's in front of you.

"Please." He looks down at his feet taking your hand in his. "Please don't look at him," he begs, helplessly?

Hopefully?

You're not entirely sure, with nothing here familiar, a new territory that he's crossing into. You have no idea but something inside you is lit.

And then he's looking up at you again with a kind of determination in his eyes. "Look at me instead."

His fingers dig into the flesh of your arm, almost painfully, almost.

But then your boyfriend. Lee Minho. The man that you have given your heart utterly and completely to is falling to his knees in front of you, eyes wide and body slouched, hand at his side in a tight fist while the other still holds, pleadingly, desperately onto you.

"I'm sorry if I can't open up to you. I'm sorry I'm cold and I'm distant but I promise I'll try, I promis-"

"-Minho." You cut off. "I should be the one apologizing. I shouldn't have said that and-"

"-I want you to take over me." He breathes, heart beating quicker as your eyes widen in lust or surprise or both. "I want you to tell me what to do...Tell me-tell me I'm yours. Tell me I'm the only one that's yours, tell me that he isn't."

Your fingers squeeze the arm of the couch.

"-Do whatever you want to me. Please. I need you to do whatever you want to me." He pulls your hand into his hair, sighing into the motion of your fingers, reluctantly, running through the strands with a slight tug, forcing his posture straight.

You're surprised by the sudden change in mindset. In the way his words come flowing out like they've been stuck there for so long that they have no choice but to.

A muffled moan comes as he bites his lip. "No more of that." Your thumb guides his mouth open, a pointed look urging him to continue. "Go on. You're so pretty when you beg."

He hesitates, but only for a second. "Control me. Mark me. Make me yours."

His head is tugged back by the fingers knotted in his hair, leaving the smooth expanse of his neck on display.

You lean down in front of him, lips at his ear. "Are you sure?"

"Please~"

An awkward cough breaks through the moment. You both look and there's Hyunjin.

He averts his eyes, staring at his feet, pointing to the door behind him. "I-i'm just gonna-gonna leave, yeah?"

You nod incredulously, making a shooing motion with your free hand, Minho straight up glaring at getting cock-blocked for the second time today by him.

Hyunjin quickly makes his way out, leaving with a supportive thumbs up to you before shutting the door behind him.

"Finally." Minho groans.

Slapping his shoulder, with a pointed look, he looks back almost offendedly. "Be nice." You warn.

He presses his head further into your touch, nudging against your fingers in his hair with an appreciative hum and a bratty smirk. "I could be nice...or maybe I could be bad...and you could..." he presses himself closer, wedging his body between your thighs. "punish me."

Your eyes nearly bug out and you almost choke on your own spit. "Minho," Thank fuck, you wore shorts today.

Because his lips are brushing over your thighs. His eyes still locked on yours as he slowly licks up your skin, then begins leaving open-mouthed kisses everywhere he can find purchase.

Goosebumps rise all over your skin, a drawn out moan gracing his ears and your fingers tighten in his hair, almost painfully, but he can't bring himself to care.

"Minho," you gulp and he's quick to reply with nothing but a moan of his own.

But this isn't what he asked for.

This isn't what he asked you to do.

So you pull him away by his hair, sighing at the loss. He whines, trying to pull back but you don't let him.

"Minho." He ignores you, sticking his tongue out in a vain attempt. "Kitten."

That has his attention. Body freezing and breath stopping for all but a second before a shudder rips through him.

You smirk. "Go to our room and lay down on the bed for me." You glance over him. "Take off your clothes too."

He's scrambling up as soon as you're letting go, hurrying to follow your order.

This is gonna be fun.

You try to give him some time, a few minutes for him to carry out what you told him to and a few more just to torture him a little but anticipation eats away at your will-power, making it near-impossible to wait long before you stand up off the couch.

A million ways to fulfill his wishes run through your mind. But as soon as you're in the doorway it all goes blank.

He's gorgeous and that's all you can think about. More than gorgeous, fucking ethereal sitting there on the bed all 'innocently', on his knees, hands clenching and unclenching with nerves in his lap.

Completely and utterly bare.

It takes all of you to not pounce on him and ravish him where he sits but instead click your tongue disapprovingly. "Kitty," he shivers. "So messy," you lean down to pick up his clothes, thrown messily around the floor.

He turns a pretty shade of pink. "I'm sorry, was just so...excited."

Your gaze shifts down. "Well that's obvious. But that's no excuse."

"'M sorry."

You push his chin up, calmly watching the way his pupils dilate. "Oh, it's okay sweet thing, I can think of a few ways you can make it up to me."

His eyes light up, sparkling as you chuckle. "And that can start off by getting on your hands and knees."

He hesitates, but only for a second. "Can I have a kiss first?"

"Well, since you asked so nicely, kitty." You pull his face closer, cupping it in your hands as he whines, so close yet so far.

You smile at the noise and finally he received a kiss, rising up onto his knees, trying to get closer to you. Lips soft and eager as they seek out yours, purring out as your hands caress his body, going lax against you at the feeling.

It's a bit odd for him at first, the way that you take the lead in the kiss, teeth nipping at his lips, your hands groping his body. He gets used to it quickly though, his arms wrapping around your shoulders, trying to pull you closer before you pinch him in the side and he lets with a yelp.

"Just relax." You whisper against his lips, kneading at the skin above his hips, "Just let me take care of you." He mewls wantonly, pulling away and burying his head into your chest.

You give him a minute, continuing to rub your thumb over the dip in his pelvis. "You okay?"

He nods, taking a deep breath before looking back up at you, eyes glossy. "Yeah. J-just needed a sec."

He catches your lips with his again then, pure need in control of his movements now. Clutching you and letting his eyes slip shut, and when you bite down of his lip and he lets out a gasp, you take the moment to let your tongue to slip past the seal of his lips, fogging up his mind, a high needy moan escaping him swallowed by you.

Your hand comes up to the back of his head, deepening the kiss, letting out a groan in reply.

Nothing but pure horniness controls Lee Minho anymore. Nothing but the want to please and to listen and to feel good.

When you finally pull away, eyes flickering from one of his eyes to the other, breathing heavy, he lays back.

Teasing at first, landing on his back and spreading his thighs and groping at his inner thighs before flipping over to fulfill your request.

Prettily getting on his hands and knees, facing away from you and wiggling his hips enticingly, letting his back fall into a pretty little slope.

"Oh god, Minho."

Your hands attach to his skin like a magnet to metal, immediately gripping his skin, urged on by the sounds of his moans when you do.

Cupping his ass, squeezing the flesh in your hands like your own personal stress toy. You lean over his back all the while, pressing your weight against to whisper in his ear. "Do you wanna face me kitten or stay like this?"

He clears his throat, trying to focus his thoughts, try to ignore the fact that your fingers are already pressing against his hole, teasing at the entrance.

"C-can I, could I face you? Wanna see you, w-want you to see me."

So you roll him over.

His cheeks are flushed, looking so out of character, so shy, so adorable. "Want me to see you get ruined baby? Want me to watch as I make a mess out of you?"

He nods helplessly with a mewl, letting his legs fall open. "C-could you eat me out?"

The smile that blooms across your face should scare him but only makes him hornier, only makes him remember only just a week ago when you'd almost gotten to this.

Makes him remember the time spent in the shower, getting off to those thoughts.

Earlier today in the kitchen, the shock and then lust replacing that, giving into his silent wish.

Before fucking Hyunjin ruined it all.

That stupid cock-block, getting in his wa-

Minho's so absorbed in his thoughts, too in his head that he barely even realizes where you've gone, what you're doing.

Cutting him off mid-thought.

“Oh my god, f-fuck!” he cries out when you finally insert your tongue inside his ass. He grasps at your hair, cupping your head in his hand and tangling his fingers through the strands like a lifeline. "S-shit!"

You smirk against his skin and the feeling of it has him shuddering. "F-faster. G-go faster."

Immediately he feels the loss and nearly cries from it, trying to push your head back down. You only tsk at him in reply, like he's a misbehaving dog and not a beautiful man nearly crying from being denied once again. "Did you forget who's in charge here Minnie?"

Fingers dig into the skin of his thighs, skimming lower and lower, closer to where he needs you most until his pretty little head is turning into mush from need.

"N-no." But the words are meek.

Your hand mercifully squeezes around his cock all red and leaking with pre cum. You smile, thumbing over the slit, ripping a gasp from his lungs. "Then how about you rephrase that for me?"

God, he can barely think with your touching him like this, barely even comprehend what you're saying as your hand moves smoothly up and down him.

But you don't like that, stopping when you notice how far he is from you. "How about you use please for me Minnie?" You supply.

"Please!" He whimpers, trying to roll his hips down, back onto your tongue, trying to thrust back up into your hand. "P-please! I-i...I need you so, so, so bad! Need you in me, need you touching me, need you 't make me-nngh!"

Your tongue finally-finally presses past the tight ring of muscles once again, burying deep inside and Minho swears he can see stars, thighs trembling, body quaking as his eyes roll into the back of his skull.

You glance up at him, lips curling up at how he seems to have lost all composure. Pulling out and then thrusting back in, he keens, thrusting back down onto you.

The muscles in his abdomen clench, ghosting your fingertips over his inner thighs again, feeling them shake under your touch, tensing and then snapping shut, squeezing together as he moans and trying not to stop breathing.

You're quick to shove his legs back apart, pressing them onto the bed on either side, tracing your nails down his legs, making him shiver and whimper before settling a pinch on one, a little yelp escaping that lets into an adorable mewl.

His walls clamp down around your tongue, his hand tugging uselessly in your hair until it's almost painful. With a pained hiss, you're brushing his hand away easily.

"Keep your hands to yourself." You warn. "Or I'll stop and leave you here like this."

You wouldn't. You don't even think that you could even if you wanted to.

But he doesn't know that, nodding helplessly, words coming out in a hoarse but whiney whisper. "Need more, please, 'm so so close. N-need more."

You make a sound, giving a vibration that feels fucking amazing before licking a long strip from his hole all the way to the tip of his cock, pumping the base a few times, just enough to make him whine before you stop and pout up at him. "Is what I'm giving you not enough kitty?"

His body squirms, trying to say yes but not willing to, not willing to tell the truth. You smile and take two fingers, reaching up to bring them to his lips. "Suck on them for me."

Already too fucked out to care, or possibly because he's so desperate to get your touch back on him, he listens. Cute bunny teeth revealed as he opens up.

And then they're pressing against his tongue, roughly pushing to fuck his throat and all he can think of is you.

You, you, you.

As he can feel your mouth back on him, leaving teasing kisses all down his thighs and cock and hole and, his gaze, hooded and dazed meets yours as you do and fuck he feels like he's gonna burst.

"Good kitty." You murmur, pulling your fingers out to see the drool that drips down his chin before pushing back in. "Such a good kitty for me Minnie, aren't you?"

That feeling inside him swells because yes, yes he's a good kitty for you-just for you. He can't quite verbalize it but god he hopes you can tell from the garbled moans and the way he tries to clutch helplessly at you can convey that.

You keep talking but he can't hear it over the ringing in his ears, and the feeling of your hold on his jaw, so deliciously firm, heat pools deep inside him. You hand, you're groping his thighs, teasing and soft and mean and everything that could drive him utterly insane.

"Such a good kitty for me Minnie." He somehow hears over everything and that's it.

That's all his body can take before he convulses, before his body is trying to curl into itself on instinct, your firm hand keeping him in place. He loses track of time, loses track of everything.

The only thing he can do is let out the loudest scream.

And you swear, he's the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen.

Back arching up off the bed, mouth falling open, nearly shaking under your touch as delectably sinful noises fall from red puffy lips. Ropey streaks of cum spill over his stomach, his orgasm washing over him.

Or hitting him head on like a fucking truck.

Hiccupy gasps wrack him and you try to soothe him, moving quickly to grab a damp towel and gently clean him up.

He whines when you move but he's barely conscious, hand reaching out in an attempt to grab you that results in a quick kiss on his forehead. "Gimme a sec baby, I'll give you cuddles in a second, just let me clean you up."

He keeps that up nonetheless, shivering with sensitivity when you touch him, moaning brokenly and thrusting up at the slight overstimulation.

"M-more," He whispers brokenly, barely conscious.

Into overstimulation, you note, brushing his hair back sweetly. "Not right now, maybe later on but I'm so sleepy, I just wanna cuddle with you."

"Okay," his eyes close, "only if that's what you want." He reluctantly lets you go, so you can throw the towel into the hamper and strip down to lay next to him.

He practically molds to you once you do, curling himself into your arms, being uncharacteristically cuddly that you can't help but swoon at, lacing your fingers together.

You pull the blanket up and turn the light off, letting him fall into a sleep.

And you think he's asleep, exhausted until he speaks, "I don't know why we didn't try this sooner." He whispers tiredly. "That was so good...I don't think I've ever came that hard in my entire life."

You laugh softly, "You know, I'm sorry," Minho tenses but you continue. "a-about before. It is frustrating for me, I won't lie but I know it's hard for you and I should've talked to you instead of ranting to Hyunjin instead."

He nods. "And I'm sorry. I know I should communicate more. I was just so s-I was scared. I don't know why but I was."

You press him closer to you, hugging him so tightly you'd be worried if he weren't clinging to you with the same intensity. "Well, we can talk about it more tomorrow. Let's just go to sleep for now."

----

a/n: i hope everyone enjoyed it and i was thankful for how patient everyone was for the long time it took to get this out

but yeah,

my taglist is here, and here are the people that wanted to be tagged:

@hobihearteu, @imsolovelylovely, @d7dream, @lino-jagiyaa, @lemonhongjoong, @fangirlnation @honeymooncrz, @xcookiemonsteer, @blankdyean, @freckleboilix, @karatttttt, @jdopes-recorder, @maru-matt, @aliferousminho, @aeruiian, @iadorethemskz, i'm pretty sure that's it, sorry if you asked to be tagged and you didn't get to be, i just went off of who asked to be on the teaser

#minho x reader #sub minho #minho smut #sub lee know #lee know x reader #lee know smut #sub!minho #sub!lee know #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #sub kpop #sub!skz #sub stray kids #sub skz #dom!reader #dom reader

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futureman · 1 year

Text

the way we fight

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: you and joel love taking your frustrations out on each other—in more ways than one

warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, drug use, canon-typical violence, slight spoilers for minor tlou 2 cutscene, jackson era, enemies to lovers, undefined age gap, sloooow buildup, smut, grinding, rough oral (male & female receiving)

word count: 6.7k

a/n: no idea how this got so long, but here we are! generally my fics are based on song lyrics, so this one goes out to my girl ari and social house. this honestly took a while to wrap my brain around and idk how the end got so filthy but alas, i really hope y'all enjoy! as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated 💕

It’s always an argument with him. He’s just so stubborn. Actually, Joel Miller might be the most stubborn man you’ve ever met. There’s never any room for disagreement or discussion with him—it’s his way or the highway. Half the time, you don’t even know what you’re fighting about, hurling callous, empty words at each other as if they don’t hurt. Immensely.

Maybe you really do genuinely hate each other. Or maybe it’s just for the fun of it.

It’s been like this for as long as you’ve known him, which, in hindsight, hasn’t even been that long. Probably a year? Year and a half? In all that time, you’ve never managed to crack his tough exterior and, as far as you know, no one else has, either.

The only things anyone knows for sure are that he’s Tommy Miller’s older brother and he’s got a daughter named Ellie. He hasn’t made a lot of friends here and it’s not hard to see why. He’s mean in a surly old man kind of way and rarely has anything nice to say to anyone—if he says anything at all.

Yet, somehow you still find yourself spending the majority of your time with him. It’s not something you do by choice. It’s a forced proximity thing.

You can’t tell if Tommy schedules you for patrols together because you’re the only one who hasn’t kicked up a stink about it or if he just thinks it’s funny to watch you both squirm. Most of the town thinks it’s hilarious, so you can only guess it’s the latter.

During your first few outings together, Joel wouldn’t talk to you unless it was absolutely necessary, and, even then, all you’d get was a grunt or some grumbled instructions. The silence got old pretty quickly. It wasn’t until you made your first mistake out in the field that he finally started communicating. Maybe a little louder than you’d hoped.

Now, Joel will pick a fight anywhere, usually over the dumbest shit. But his bark is worse than his bite—most of the time, at least.

On his worst days, his anger is explosive and it seems like he takes it out exclusively on you. It’s honestly a little ridiculous that you haven’t just asked Tommy to take you off his patrols already, but there’s a part of you that’ll never admit you actually kind of like your dynamic.

Not a lot happens in Jackson—it’s well-protected and even the community drama gets a little stale. Joel might be a dick, but he keeps things interesting, keeps you on your toes.

And it’s hard to ignore the fire in his eyes that makes you think he likes it just as much as you do.

It’s fucking freezing out and you haven’t even left for patrol yet before Joel’s muttering something condescending under his breath. Surprise, surprise—he’s in a bad mood and about to make it your problem. You throw him an unimpressed look over your shoulder, the best you can muster this early in the morning, and continue to saddle your horse.

“You wanna say that a little louder, Miller?”

He looks tired and annoyed and, god, you haven’t been awake nearly long enough for this shit. Today’s going to be trying enough as it is. You were assigned one of the longer routes and the clouds are already dark with the promise of rain or worse.

There are a few other patrol groups nearby gearing up to leave and their preparations suddenly slow, eyes darting between the two of you as if they can sense the impending argument. You barely notice their loitering, the small crowd inching forward to not-so-subtly eavesdrop.

“No, really, I’d love to hear to hear what you have to say,” you taunt him, hands settling on your hips. “Y’know, it’s really not like you to keep things to yourself. You sure you’re feeling alright today, old man?”

“Feelin’ just fine, sweetheart,” he grits through his teeth, rolling his eyes. “Just hurry your ass up so we can get this over and done with. I’m not tryin’ to spend any more time with ya than I have to.”

You quirk an eyebrow. Sweetheart? That’s a new one. It sounded sarcastic as hell and a little patronizing but, still, that’s not something Joel’s ever called you before. Useless and annoying, sure, but never sweetheart.

Your stomach swoops, but you force yourself to ignore it; that’s not even remotely something you want to analyze today.

“Uh, yeah…whatever,” you eye him strangely, and he abruptly looks away, shifting his focus back to checking his saddlebags. It’s like he’s purposefully avoiding your gaze, and it’s weird. He’s acting so fucking weird today.

Sparing him one last glance, you throw a leg over your horse and start toward the gate at a slow trot. You don’t bother waiting for him to catch up.

“What’s our first checkpoint?” you call over your shoulder, but he’s somehow already right behind you, his horse falling in line with yours.

“You should already know that,” Joel sighs, brow furrowed in what you can only assume is irritation. Oh, here it comes—the inevitable lecture. He does this every single time you're on patrol, whether you’ve done something wrong or not. You must’ve really pissed him off if you’re hearing it this early.

Except—he’s not berating you. Instead, he pulls a map out of his backpack. “Alright, look,” he says, leaning in closer so you can see. “This is us right here, and—,” his index finger traces a route from Jackson, winding along a road that passes through a small neighborhood, and lands on your first stop, located a few side streets off a main road, “—we should end up here in about an hour if the weather holds up.”

Nodding, you look up at him. You hadn't realized how close his face had gotten to yours, and your lips part around an involuntary gasp. His eyes drop to your mouth for a second too long before he pulls away, folding up his map and tucking it back into his pack.

You try to convince yourself that you imagined it, that Joel Miller would never intentionally look at your lips like he wants to kiss you, but you can still feel his warm breath on your skin and it’s affecting you more than you want to admit.

This is…not at all like your normal dynamic and it’s throwing you off. Joel hasn’t raised his voice once today and, at most, he’s only made a few snide remarks that weren’t nearly as bad as they usually are.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” you breathe out, creating a tiny puff of condensation in the air. “It doesn’t even feel like it's cold enough to snow, anyway. The worst we’ll probably get is some rain and we’ve ridden in way worse than that.”

All you get in response is a low grunt, and then he’s lifting the reins, leading his horse in the direction of your first checkpoint. You sigh. Guess you’re back to square one. You never thought you’d miss your spats, and can’t help but wonder what the hell happened to make him change his behavior so radically.

“Seriously, though, are you okay? You’re, like, really quiet today,” you prod, and his whole body tenses. He turns to you, expression angry, and it sends a shiver down your spine. There he is.

“Didn’t I already fuckin’ tell you I’m fine? What, you suddenly lose the ability to hear or somethin’?” He shakes his head in annoyance, and you’re glad he’s not looking at you anymore because you can’t suppress the grin that spreads across your face.

“This girl, I swear,” you hear him mutter as he trots away.

You don’t say anything to each other for the rest of the ride to the checkpoint. The crumbling attorney's office is basically the same as you remember from the last time you were here. It’s old, obviously, and musty, but it’s stocked with random provisions, like food and ammo, so patrol crews can replenish their supplies before heading out to their next destination.

There’s also a killer view of Jackson from one of the windows, and you get distracted looking out at the lights and mountains in the distance. It’s starting to flurry, so you drop your backpack on the floor and stick both hands out to catch some of the snowflakes in your palms. So much for rain.

“You dilly dallyin’ again? Just sign the logbook already so we can move the fuck on,” Joel’s voice startles you out of your reverie. Huffing, you turn away from the window, looking for the pen that’s supposed to be next to the notebook, but it’s nowhere to be found.

“You know what, asshole, you could’ve just as easily signed the damn thing yourself. You were there too, or are you getting forgetful in your old age?” you shoot back as you hunch down, getting on your hands and knees to search under the desk. You hear him scoff behind you.

You spot the pen towards the back, because of course it rolled that far, and bend down so you can reach out a little farther. Your fingers brush one end and then you’ve got it, sitting back up with your prize in hand. Looking over your shoulder, you just barely catch Joel’s eyes darting away from where you were a moment ago, basically puppy-posing on the floor. That’s…suspicious.

“The fuck? Were you just staring at my ass?” you ask incredulously. There’s no goddamn way. He snorts, arms crossed with an uncharacteristic smirk on his face, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“You wish, sweetheart,” he says condescendingly, and there it is again. That fucking word. So, he’s calling you pet names and staring at your ass now? There’s something seriously off about him today and you want to know what his deal is.

“You wanna tell me why you keep calling me that? You’ve been acting weird as fuck all day and it’s giving me whiplash,” you glower at him, taking a seat at the edge of the desk and forgetting all about the logbook. He shrugs.

“Dunno what you’re talkin’ about,” he says simply, and you squint at him.

“Seriously, Joel? You've called me sweetheart twice today and now you’re checking me out,” you hop off the desk and walk over to where he’s leaning against the wall. “If I didn’t know any better…,” you glance down at his lips, moving closer, “I’d say you were flirting with me."

Well, that made him angry. "Fuck you,” he growls in your face, and his lips are soft where they accidentally graze your cupid's bow. He’s trembling now, fists clenched at his sides, and you think he’s about to push you away when he grabs you by the hips and shoves you against the wall. Your head lolls back and you laugh cruelly.

“Yeah, Joel,” you roll your hips into his and he grits his teeth, tightening his grip. “I think that’s exactly what you wanna do.”

But before you can go any further, there’s a crash just outside the door accompanied by a familiar sound that turns your blood to ice.

It’s unmistakable. The clicking, guttural and stuttered, is followed by a high-pitched shriek that echoes throughout the small space, and you both freeze. You look up at Joel, terrified, and he raises a finger to his lips, eyes telling you to be quiet or else.

There’s no way either of you can unholster your guns—and reload, in your case—without alerting it to your position. Joel reaches for the hunting knife strapped to his thigh, and you move to do the same, only to realize it isn't there.

Fuck, it has to be somewhere. Probably in one of the dozen random holsters you have attached to you right now.

Frantic, you pat at your sides and legs—anywhere it could be—as your panicked intakes of breath gradually increase in volume. A hand slaps over your mouth, and suddenly Joel is crushing your body against the wall, halting your movements.

"Quit," he whispers harshly, lips brushing the shell of your ear, and you nod quickly.

The creature abruptly changes course, jerking toward the open window, and that’s when you notice something familiar by its feet. It's—fuck, it's your backpack. And your knife is gleaming from where it sits, nestled in one of the side pockets.

Stupid, that was so stupid. If, by some miracle, this thing doesn't kill you, there’s no doubt Joel will once he realizes your mistake. His hand drops from your mouth and he glances back over his shoulder at the clicker, gripping his knife a little tighter.

He looks resolute, and it dawns on you that he’s about to make a move. It takes everything you’ve got not to grab onto his coat and pull him back to you as he slowly shifts away, but then something else stops him in his tracks.

Another screech rings out from the other side of the room, and now you know you’re fucked. There’s only one option left now. Either you run, or you get torn apart. He reaches down to take your hand in his, warring emotions of anger and fear in his eyes as he looks into yours, and squeezes; it’s now or never.

The path to the doorway you came through is somehow miraculously clear, and Joel takes off at a sprint, dragging you with him but, to his horror, you decide to do yet another stupid thing.

For reasons you can’t explain, you find yourself ripping your hand out of his, swerving to snatch your backpack from where it lies just a few feet from the clicker.

Joel is yelling, or at least you think he is, and you vaguely feel his blunt nails scratch the back of your hand as he reaches out to stop you, but he can’t. You’re moving on autopilot, can barely register your body moving at all, until your fingertips skim the strap of your pack and the clicker is shrieking in your face.

You don’t think you’ve ever been this close to one before, even dead, and it’s worse than you could’ve ever imagined. The world freezes for a moment and you freeze with it, unable to move or look away from the fungus erupting from its skull, teeth gnashing inches away from your throat.

And then you feel warmth—warm, strong arms wrap around your waist and tug harder and harder until you’re back out in the cold. Joel spots his horse a short distance away, likely spooked by the commotion, but you can’t see much farther than that. What was a gentle flurry less than a half hour ago has become a violent blizzard, and you’re both getting pelted by ice that burns as it scrapes across your skin.

There’s one horse—just Joel’s horse—but there’s no time to think about the fate of your own before his hands are on your hips, lifting you up and into the saddle, and he’s climbing on in front of you.

He urges his horse forward and you’re off without so much as a glance behind you, galloping away from danger and down a street that you realize you actually recognize.

“Joel,” you squeeze his waist and he ignores you. He’s shaking and it’s definitely not just from the cold. You can feel the anger radiating off of him in waves and it’s warranted. You fucked up big time. “Joel, turn right,” you say a little louder, and he’s still not listening. “Turn right! There’s a library up ahead, you have to turn now!”

He growls, and you think he’s purposely going to miss the turn until he’s yanking the reins to the right, nearly throwing you both off the horse.

“You better know what the fuck you’re doin’,” he all but shouts back, and you wrap your arms around his waist a little tighter.

“It’s safe!” you yell, struggling to speak loud enough for him to hear you over the wind. “Ellie’s been there before, loads of times, and she says it’s safe. “

And that’s all it takes to convince him.

The library’s completely boarded up and, with the wind howling against your backs, it takes more than a few hard tugs to yank enough of them off to get inside the lobby with Joel’s horse.

He hands you the reins before moving into the next room, crouching along the rows of aging books and knocked-over bookcases, and you peek in, watching him anxiously. Cracked bricks litter the ground, and he steps over a few as he crouches into place behind a broken book cart.

He picks one up and then shoots you a look, eyebrows lifting pointedly, and you realize he wants you to get back into the lobby, out of sight. You duck behind the wall, placing a soothing hand on his horse right as you hear the sound of the brick shattering against the ground, and wait. A few agonizing seconds pass before you hear him throw one more a little farther out, just to be sure.

When nothing startles or jumps out, Joel whistles and you know that’s your cue to come out from your hiding spot. Normally, that would piss you off immensely, him whistling for you like you’re a fucking animal, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now.

You’re exhausted now that the adrenaline’s wearing off, and the only thing you want to do is curl up into one of the torn-up chairs in the corner and pass out until morning. But that’s not what Joel has in mind.

“Y’think you’re off the hook for the shit you pulled earlier?”

You sigh, head tipping back and thumping against the bookcase behind you. “Do we have to do this right now? Joel, I’m tired and hungry, and fucking cold, and I really don’t have the energy.”

“Seriously? Sure looked like ya had the energy when you were runnin’ straight into that clicker’s mouth,” he scowls, reaching down to grab something next to the book cart and throwing it at your feet. “Thought ya might want this back since you apparently decided it was worth more than your life.”

You inhale sharply through your nose, eyebrows pinching together. Joel…he—

It's your backpack.

You were so sure it got left behind when he saved you from that clicker and yet, there it is. You lean over to pick it up, but Joel kicks it out of reach before you get the chance. He looks livid and now, you realize, you’re about to get that lecture you dodged earlier tenfold.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Me? I'm not the one having an identity crisis! You’ve been nothing but distracting all damn day,” you scoff bitterly. “None of this would've happened if you hadn't had a complete personality makeover overnight.”

You can’t believe he…is he serious? There’s no way you’re taking the fall for this, not all of it. Yeah, you fucked up with the backpack, but Joel isn't entirely blameless, either. If you hadn’t been fighting again, you would’ve just signed the stupid logbook and moved on like you were supposed to.

"Yeah, alright, sweetheart. It's my fault you almost got us both killed. Maybe you’re forgettin’ I saved your goddamn life back there, somethin' I wouldn't have had to do if you hadn't gone and done something so fuckin’ stupid."

Sweetheart.

"Stop calling me that! I…fuck, Joel, I just don't get you. I get it—I know I fucked up, but…,” your voice cracks and you can feel your lower lip wobbling, but you can’t let yourself cry. That would only prove to Joel what he already knows—you’re weak. “I’m sorry, okay? What more do you want from me?”

He chuckles mirthlessly. “You really wanna know what I want from ya?” He crowds your space, leaning in slightly. His head tilts like he's going to kiss you, and your breath hitches. “I want ya to get your shit together and stop makin’ unnecessary mistakes,” he says cruelly instead.

Your jaw drops.

"No, you know what? Fuck this,” you seethe. “When we get back to Jackson, I’m telling Tommy to never put me on your patrols again. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Think I give a shit about that? Go ahead, you’d be doin’ me a favor!” he yells at your back as you storm away, and you flip him off over your shoulder. Behind you, he sighs heavily, sounding as worn out and frustrated as you feel.

What a load of bullshit. You don't deserve to be treated like this. There's a stark difference between the inconsequential arguments you normally have and whatever the hell that was.

And the worst part? It hurts so much more than you expected it to. Leave it to you to get attached to the asshole whose personal mission it is to make you miserable. This whole thing was fun while it lasted, but you meant what you said. You and Joel, it’s over.

You exhale wetly, tears still threatening to fall as you leave him behind in what the yellowing signs tell you is the romance section. Well, isn’t that ironic.

You quickly realize navigating the library in the dark is more difficult than you anticipated, even with your flashlight. Not even ten steps away from where you started, you trip over something protruding from the ground and almost land flat on your face.

Joel comes running over as you let out a frustrated noise and push yourself up onto your knees. His knife is at the ready like he was expecting danger but, no, it’s just you humiliating yourself even further. He lets out a relieved sigh, holstering his knife, but then just stands there glaring down at you.

“I’m fine, by the way,” you wave a hand from the ground. He shakes his head, reaching down to help you up, and his hand feels so nice in yours—big, strong, and calloused.

You curse yourself for still thinking about him like that, like anything at all, but you can't help it. And when his hand drops yours, it feels distinctly cold and empty.

Shaking it off, you aim your flashlight at the offending spot on the floor. “What is that, anyway?” you ask Joel as he crouches down to brush away some of the dirt and debris.

“A handle,” he mumbles, pulling out his knife again and digging it into a crack in the floor, tracing around what looks like…a door?

“Is that a trapdoor?” You lean over his shoulder to get a better look. He looks back at you and nods, looking a little less angry and a lot more concerned. “Well, should we check it out?”

Instead of answering you, he wrenches the door open and shines his flashlight into the opening. There’s a ladder leading down and you can hear something rumbling below that sounds like a generator.

“Stay here,” he eyes you sternly as he begins his descent down the ladder.

“Uh, yeah, that’s not happening,” you scoff, following him. The ladder’s longer than you expected, and once your feet touch the ground, you reach out to run your hands along the wall, searching for a light switch.

A few moments later, your fingers come across something vaguely switch-like and you flip it, a warm glow filling the room, emanating from about a dozen heat lamps hanging from the ceiling. Your eyes adjust and—

“No fucking way.”

Joel is silent beside you, and you glance over, his expression just as stunned as yours is. You step closer. “Is that…?”

“Weed,” he breathes out.

You didn’t mean to get this high. Really, you didn’t. But you're in a fucking grow room hidden beneath a library in some tiny, backwater town, and you almost just died. So really, what reason was there not to?

The blizzard’s still going strong outside and, at the very least, it’s nice and warm down here. There's also the added bonus of something fun to do while you wait it out.

…Yeahhh, so you might’ve found a mason jar full of already rolled joints between some couch cushions, literally just sitting there for the taking. What were you supposed to do? Not smoke them?

But what surprises you even more than the pot itself is that Joel is smoking it, too.

It’s cute how he coughs after every drag, eyes watering as you pass a joint back and forth. The air is thick with smoke and a strange tension that neither of you can really describe, but you’re not fighting anymore. Not yet, at least.

The couch you're sitting on is cozy and less tattered than the chairs upstairs, so you settle there for the night, sitting closer than you ever willingly have before. Enough time has passed that you’re beginning to realize neither of you plans on moving, either. That you’re actually enjoying each other’s company.

The warmth of him seeps pleasantly through your clothes, and he feels so solid and real against you. Unconsciously, you melt into his side, your fuzzy brain chemicals urging you to feel more, more of him, and he tenses only for a moment before lifting an arm to rest behind you on the back of the couch.

It's strange how readily he's accepting your touch now. With each drag, you feel a little braver and press more of your body into his, draping your legs across his lap and nesting your head in the crook of his neck. He goes boneless when you mouth damply at the skin just below his jaw, his throat rumbling under your lips as he lets out a ragged breath.

You’ve both loosened up so much since earlier. It’s an easy, comfortable sort of peace you’ve found down here, even after the horrors you experienced earlier in the day. Part of you wishes it could always be like this with Joel but, then again, that just wouldn’t be you and Joel.

Your relationship thrives on the way you fight, almost like you can’t exist together without the promise of battle. So, when the high wears off and the world feels less lazy and more dire, you’ll both remember with sharp clarity that you hate each other. The memories will fade away and the war will continue. That’s just how it is.

It’s a little sad when you think about it, but for at least a little while longer, you’ll still have this version of you and Joel. You’ll enjoy the way he feels pressed up against your body; the way he feels pliant and suggestible under your lips.

And you’ll ask the question that’s been eating away at you all day because right now, you’re positive your lips can convince him to do anything.

“Tell me why you keep calling me sweetheart,” you murmur against his skin. He freezes, clearly not expecting you to bring it up again. You lift the blunt to his lips and encourage him to inhale to calm his nerves. The smoke plumes from his nose like a dragon as he exhales, and you're enraptured by the way it swirls through the air before dissipating. He braces a hand on your thigh before responding.

"Well, I…uh—," he mumbles, his cheeks turning a deep shade of burgundy, and you can’t resist reaching out to stroke the heated skin with your fingertips. He breathes shakily as he continues, "I—had a dream about ya last night, and…you, uh—you were…"

He cuts himself off, and your mind goes fuzzy for a moment as you let that little bit of information sink in. So, Joel was dreaming about you last night…and now, he’s treating you so much differently. Calling you pet names, eyeing you up, touching you. It all makes sense—but now you need him to tell you everything.

"What was I doing in your dream, Joel?"

He meets your gaze, looking flustered and a little ashamed, and it's a far cry from the man who was yelling at you not even an hour or two ago.

"You, uh," he clears his throat, still hesitating. You bite your bottom lip in anticipation, sucking it wetly into your mouth, and his eyes darken. He lifts a thumb to your mouth, tugging your lip down just slightly, and you can see the moment his apprehension disappears. "You were on your knees for me," he murmurs. "Doin' such a good job, too, workin' that pretty mouth of yours."

You inhale sharply and his thumb drops, but his eyes never leave your lips. Gingerly, you pluck the joint still burning between his fingers and take one last deep drag before flicking the rest to the side and crashing your lips onto his.

God, they feel exactly like you thought they would, soft and a little chapped from the cold, but so fucking eager against yours. You hold his face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs along the roughness of his beard, and he groans as you exhale into his mouth, tasting the smoke on your tongue.

Sighing, you lean back slowly, heavy-lidded eyes roving over his face to take in his kiss-swollen lips and that beautiful burgundy flush. He's so pretty, and you can’t help but run your fingers through his thick, graying hair as he pants heavily below you.

You need to feel more of him, all of him, so you climb into his lap, straddling his hips and grinding down against where he's already straining in his pants. He grips you tighter in response, working you steadily across his hardening cock.

"Keep going,” you moan breathily. You're already so wet, and heat blooms in your belly every time your clit grazes the seam of his jeans. It's a foggy, hazy pleasure, what you feel when he speaks, and you're addicted to it. “Keep telling me about your dream—a-about my mouth…I wanna hear more.“

You feel rather than hear him growl low in his throat as he ducks his head down to your neck, sucking and biting bruises into your skin.

“Your mouth…so fuckin’ wet—s-soft and tight around my cock,” he sucks hard under your jaw, and you gasp. “Takin’ me all the way down, like I always knew you could.”

Your breath hitches, eyes rolling back. The thought of him dreaming about his cock down your throat makes your cunt pulse, and now you're positive you're soaking through his pants.

You bet he thinks about it when you're on patrol together, too—that when you're fighting like you've both got something to prove, he's thinking about shutting you up with his cock. Fucking your mouth to show you that what he says goes.

"M-more, Joel…ngh, fuck, I need more," you reach down to shove his shirt up so you can feel him, his stomach flexing and unflexing under your palms. He starts to buck into your clothed pussy faster, like he's fucking you through the fabric, and you whine pathetically as he tugs hard on your hair, yanking your head to the side.

"S’alright, n-needy girl, 'm gonna tell you exactly how I was fuckin' that sweet mouth of yours last night…h-how you were—," he groans raggedly in your ear, voice cracking, and you swear you can feel his heartbeat racing between your legs. "…c-chokin' and gaggin' around my cock while I was cummin' down your throat…"

He keeps giving you what you asked for, tells you all the filthy shit he wants to do to your mouth, and his hips start to stutter like he's bringing himself closer to orgasm with his own words. It would make a lot of sense—Joel's always loved the sound of his own voice, especially when it's directed at you.

But you can’t hear much of anything anymore aside from the sound of your own stuttered moaning, suddenly so, so close to hurtling over the edge with him. You’re sliding so easily over his cock now and you brace your hands on his shoulders as your thighs start to quake around his waist. He digs his fingers into the plush curve of your ass, pulling you down harder, but you squeeze his shoulders roughly to get his attention.

“Y-you—Joel, you can’t cum,” you whine into his neck, and he all but snarls in response. “No…no, no, no. Want you t-to fuck my mouth—you have to cum in my mouth—”

He abruptly yanks you off his lap, shoving you back onto the couch and wrenching your jeans and underwear down in two hard tugs.

You barely have time to let out a squeal before he buries his face in your cunt, honing in on your clit and sucking wetly. He flattens his tongue, circling once, twice, three times, and then you’re cumming with a loud exhale, gushing as you grind into his face.

Your pussy’s still pulsing, locking down around nothing, as you tug him off of you by his hair.

“Joel—jeans..o-off…now.” You help him push them down just enough to free his cock, and then your mouth is on him, sucking him down to the hilt.

His hips buck off the couch of their own accord and he groans pathetically as you gag around him. He’s petting your head and saying something raggedly above you, likely apologizing for hurting you, but it’s drowned out by the blood rushing in your ears.

Instead of pulling off to reassure him that you very much want him to keep gagging you, you guide his hands to bury themselves in your hair and squeeze his thigh, praying he gets the hint. His fingers tense against your scalp as he holds you in place and, yeah, he absolutely gets it.

Your head feels like it’s disconnecting from the rest of your body as he starts fucking into your mouth the way he was probably dreaming about last night. He’s just so fucking big, and you feel a weird sort of pride bloom in your chest at being able to take him like this.

Tears are streaming down your face from the effort and you’re drooling all over his lap but, fuck, if he wants to do this every time you patrol together, you’ll let him. You take back everything you said before—if Tommy ever takes you off Joel’s patrols, you’ll kill him.

His fingers start to tug harder, painfully at your hair and you can hear him moaning something above you, his words slurred and desperate.

“S-so fuckin’ good, sweetheart, you’re…ngh—fuckin’ perfect,” he grits through his teeth, breath hitching as you wrap your lips tighter around him, flattening your tongue along the underside of his length. “‘m gonna cum…fuck, fuck—need you t-to swallow it all, sweetheart… know you can do it…so goddamn good.”

Humming and swallowing around him, you reach up to cup his balls and he erupts, pumping thick cum into your mouth and down your throat. Deep groans are punched out of his chest with every spurt and you can feel his cock pulsing against your tongue.

There’s so much of it. You try your best to do what he asked, to be good and swallow everything, but it’s starting to leak out the corners of your mouth and down his cock. Slurping up as much as you can, you pull off with an audible pop and lick off the rest of the salty, white streaks remaining on his skin.

When your watery eyes finally meet his, he’s looking at you like maybe he really has been dreaming this whole time. He’s still a little dazed, from both the weed and the intense orgasm, and he reaches out to cradle your face in his hands almost as if to prove to himself that you’re real. It’s a surprisingly tender gesture that kind of makes your heart ache.

Your lips quirk up as you lean into his touch, aching to prolong the moment, and he leans forward to press a sweet kiss to them, mouth coaxing yours open to taste himself on your tongue. You whine softly as his tongue runs along your bottom lip, and then he pulls back, hauling you into his arms to lie back on the couch.

Those heat lamps feel unbearable now. You're both hot and sweating, chests heaving from exertion, but you still refuse to separate from each other. Your brain’s feeling a lot less foggy, so you’re probably coming down from your high, which means Joel is, too. The realization sends a pang of worry through your chest like you expect him to suddenly come to and push you away, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he pulls your back to his chest, positioning your bodies more comfortably before murmuring fondly in your ear, "You’re somethin’ else, y’know that?”

You breathe out a sigh of relief. Maybe you’ll get to keep this after all—and without sacrificing everything that makes you and Joel, well…you and Joel. You twist around to shoot him an unimpressed look, but the burgeoning grin on your face betrays you.

“What, you’re just figuring that out? Took you long enough.”

He scoffs. “Listen, sweetheart—“ But you gasp, cutting him off before he can finish his sentence. No, way. How are you just putting two and two together now?

“Wait…oh my god, wait—is this why you keep calling me sweetheart? Because it's what you called me when I was blowing you in your sex dream?” You’re grinning so hard it hurts. How the fuck didn't you notice that earlier?

There was plenty of time to work it out when you were all but fucking on the couch for the past hour. But then…he didn’t actually start calling you sweetheart until he was cumming, and the realization makes your cunt throb. You file that information away for now, but make a mental note to come back to it later—hopefully back in Jackson with Joel.

…who’s still mumbling irritatedly into your shoulder. You tilt your head back to press your lips under his jaw, and you're quickly learning that kissing that particular spot turns him to jelly.

“You can keep calling me sweetheart,” you start, thinking over your next words carefully. “But I’ve got conditions.”

“Oh, she’s got demands now,” you can hear the dramatic eye roll in his voice. You suck a bruise into his skin to stop the back sass and it works spectacularly.

“Oh, shut up. It benefits you too, asshole,” you glare up at him before continuing. “I want your dick in my mouth every time we patrol from now on. And next time, you have to fuck me.”

His fingers dig into your sides, and you’re pretty sure you just felt his cock twitch against your ass.

“…Y-yeah, I, uh. I can do that,” he stutters, suddenly demure, and it dawns on you how much you like seeing all these different sides of Joel. He’s been mean and angry, shy and tender, and so fucking sexy all in the span of a single day. It's not something you ever would've expected from him.

You used to think he was just some grumpy old man and that his one personality trait was being an obnoxious jerk, but tonight you were proven very, very wrong.

You pull his arms tighter around you, let yourself get lost in the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your back, and hum contently. You’ll have to thank Ellie and her weed-grower friend later.

“Y’know, I almost thought you were gonna say no more fighting,” he says after a few seconds of silence. You look up at him incredulously, and he chuckles.

“Nah, where’s the fun in that?”

thanks so much for reading! 🥰

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller

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austinsastrology8991 · 1 year

Text

> SUN IN THA HOUSE < and whY yoU Be like dat

Sun is our focal point, its our brightest star > you force others to look at you and look at themselves by your star quality <

Sun in the First - Everyone knows them, and they make it a fact that if you don't see them then your the one who is blind. They have a confident swagger, but arrogance to them that begs for the attention of all around them, and everyone is locked in on how or why they have such a powerful presence. Their smiles are contagious too. Also somehow always in the perfect place to say some funny ass shit and keep their style points that they been racking up over the years "You know. You all know exactly who I am. Say my name" - W.W 'breaking bad'

Sun in the Second - Did I stutter? Im talking about what I need not what I want. These guys are possessed by themselves and everyone loves it. So focused so self contained, they don't want nothing to do with you if you can't help them achieve their goals, and that attitude is sticky and everyone wanna be glued to em because they are destined for success. So they are constantly deciding who they want to share their gifts with, because they know they got it, what you got? "Money, money, money, money, money ain't the motive, What's your name again? Nobody knows it, Don't speak to me n***a, you not important, Im focused" - Tyler, the creator 'smuckers'

Sun in the Third - The whizz kid who didn't study, but stole the test papers and told everyone the wrong answers and kept all the right ones to himself. They are smart and they dont need you to tell them this they just want some more god damn answers. And thats what frustrates everyone, because they know so much already, why they still searching? Well thats how they got so smart dummy "That's why they put my lyrics up under this microscope Searching with a fine tooth comb, it's like this rope Waiting to choke, tightening around my throat Watching me while I write this, like, "I don't like this note" - Eminem 'white america'

Sun in the Fourth - The sentimental cry baby that everyone loves to cuddle. Emotional but people find it adorable. They are the rock you can cry on if you want a rock to cry on. Nah but if you need a safe place to cry, you can cry to them, they'll protect you from the harsh waves of others emotional projections, because they get it, even when everyone else refuses to. But don't use em because that'll force them to block you out, and this decision will cause a emotional rollercoaster for the both of you and they'll blame you for it even if it was their decision "And I am done changing words, Just so my songs sound prettier, I just don't care if it hurts, 'Cause it hurts me too" - Faye Webster 'hurts me too'

Sun in the Fifth - The walking confetti explosion, always turnt up and if you trynna lower the volume then they'll oblige ya just so when the volume inevitably goes up again, they'll make it a point that its always more fun with the party up then down. Charming chameleons that are cheesin about the colours they managed to pull off. Watch em dance, watch em sing, watch em do a funny, they can do it all and laugh while doing it, the vibe is them and they are so good at inviting people in on the little big party they got going on "Man I just wanna go flex, Gold on my teeth and on my neck, And I'm stone cold with the flex, With my squad and I'm smokin' up a check" - Post Malone 'go flex'

Sun in the Sixth - Typeracer.com - nah but seriously they always working on themselves and comparing themselves just to make sure their progress is more than what they expected and way more than what others expected of them. Because they here for a reason, and they will never let a opportunity slip, because if they do, they'll stay awake over it for years, and they done wasting their good years. Basically Peggy Olsen "And when your album sales wasn't doing too good, Who's the Doctor they told you to go see? Y'all better listen up closely, All you n***s that said that I turned pop, Or The Firm flopped. Y'all are the reason that Dre ain't been getting no sleep" - Dr Dre 'forgot about dre'

Sun in the Seventh - I gotchu what you need? true homies always putting others before them, and i know this gets a bad rap these days but if you ever get one of these friends. Do yourself a favour and stop telling them to stand up for themselves, because they still standing with the weight of everyone else on they shoulders. This way they show others the power of communication. And they still sticking it to everyone who tell em otherwise, so please tell me how they not standing up for themselves? They the loyalist, you got no idea how many people rely on em and thats their pride "Every step I take, every move I make (ohh, I'll miss you), Every single day, every time I pray, I'll be missing you (yeah, yeah, yeah), Thinkin' of the day, when you went away, What a life to take, what a bond to break, I'll be missing you" - Diddy 'missing you'

Sun in the Eighth - Who went to hell and back? Well they went to a version of it. And they are done hearing whatever you done, because what they did beats your hell tenfold. They don't even wanna put you in your place because they don't wanna hear your attempts to disapprove of them because they've overcome more than some bullshit shit talking. Just put some respect on their name thats all they want. And if not it's easy pickens because think they worse than you, and if you done worse, they don't mind going badder, so be careful, they'll do it. They careful about not being careful so be careful "No I don't worry, I tell you, I'm a man who believes that I died twenty years ago, And I live like a man who is dead already, I have no fear whatsoever of anybody or anything" - Skepta 'no security'

Sun in the Ninth - I WOKE UP IN NEW BUGgATTI is how they live their lives, except miss the bugatti but keep the caps lock on. They live by a set of moral philosophies to help them get by and to find excitement/ enjoyment outta life, because they refuse to be a follower, they've seen how sad everyone else is and they just trynna make sure it don't work out that way for them. Educated idiots; making up the rules as they learn the rules to live by their own rules. They lead their own life and it rubs off on everyone on how you should live your own life > teetering the edge of danger and fortune. Also someone who'll give it to you the realest despite being the biggest clown "Black kid get shot, white man get tazed, Media spread lies, politicians get paid, Doctors wanna drug you up so you can reach an early grave, Prisons wanna lock you up so they can fill up every cage Make fifty cents an hour, they gon' work you like a slave, Government gon' play dumb but they know everythin' " - Meechy Darko 'kill us all'

Sun in the Tenth - "Who speaking about me? oh. he ain't shit" - they acting better than everyone, and its fake until it isnt. No one knows when they made it because they always acted like they did. They dont brag they let the audience speak their volumes, hum their symphonies, play their drums, tickle their balls, and they just the orchestrator of it all. Because they doin the most, and they know everyone gonna talk about it so no need to even speak on it. Classy about it too. They on the top and they don't wanna leave so they acting humble but everyone know they really feelin themselves, but hey who wouldn't "I might be too strung out on compliments, Overdosed on confidence, Started not to give a fuck and stopped fearing the consequence, Drinkin' every night because we drink to my accomplishments" - Drake 'headlights'

Sun in the Eleventh - Trend setters who leave their shit stains on every social setting they enter. They got this influence about them thats hard not to notice, because they have at least three people fawning over em, and they not doing shit. Always trying to spread their influence, so if you want someone to back you its them, because their word is worth more due to their connections. And the easiest way to connect is technology and they all up in the software and getting a hard drive about it. They say some outta pocket shit, but thats where the influenza comes from I guess. They somehow everywhere and no where at the same damn time "It's ironic you talk jail time, But you ain't never seen no central booking (yeah) It's ironic you hang with a n***a that beat women And have the nerve to call yourself "Girl Pusher" Wow! You ain't real, I'm gonna show you how I really feel - JPEGMAFIA 'baby im bleeding'

Sun in the Twelfth - Lonely introspective dreamy creative types. Is what you could say if you wanna sum them up. But there is much more to them, but they are so afraid of letting anyone in because they are so sensitive. Their empathy and ability to look at things from different perspectives is what sets them apart, and they want to be set apart, because they feel alone, and don't wanna pretend they your friend if they ain't. They are extremely creative to a fault, and a lot of people would rather make fun of their works then celebrate how special it is. Until it is widely acknowledged how gifted they are, then everyone will switch up around them. But they will never forget who said what, because they above the whats; aint got time for someone who thought they were just a what "'Cause I'm out there, Tried to tell you that I'm out here on my own, I told you I was out there, Tried to tell you that I'm out here on my own,I fell down to Earth, From a hundred miles away and somehow I still make it work, But it's overrated and somehow played out" - Oliver Tree 'alien boy'

#sun in the houses #astrology #astrology blog #astrology observations #astrology placements #astro community #astrology notes #house placements #astrology houses

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lovebugism · 7 months

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hi angel! I have a little fictober request … can I pls get holding hands for the first time from the prompt list with steve harrington and shy!reader? maybe they’re in a busy place and steve doesn’t want to lose r so he grabs her hand, not realising how ridiculously flustered she gets <3333

ty for requesting angel :D this can be read as a part two to this fic!

summary: steve takes you to a mall in the city in a desperate attempt to spend time with you, fending off freaks, douchebags, and your anxious tendencies alike (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers cw for mentions of anxiety, 3.5k)

fictober leftovers (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Steve idles between the X-rated horror and thriller sections for several long minutes until he works up the courage to talk to you. You’re a pretty little thing behind the counter, hand in your palm as you scribble into the journal Keith threatened to confiscate from you earlier that morning.

He’s never been this nervous to talk to you. Things are different now. Post-first date, and Steve’s still toeing that wretched line between friends and something more. The puppy love is so painfully mutual, but it’s equally hard to navigate. He can’t come on too strong — not with someone as soft as you — but he’s still got some King Steve left in him. He’s still learning how to be gentle.

With sweaty hands, he walks up to the counter and tries to be subtle about the whole thing. Stealthy, like a ninja. He leans on his folded-up arms and blurts before he means to, “So you’re, like, totally coming tomorrow, right?”

You lift your chin and blink at him with wide eyes. You hadn’t heard him come over, too busy doodling a bunch of nothingness in your notebook. Your stomach whirls at the sight of him. It takes you a moment too long to answer.

“Coming… where?”

“To the mall,” he reminds, then corrects himself with a shrug. “The one in the city— not the shithole we have here.”

“Oh. Uh, I don’t— I don’t know,” you stammer. Steve invited you earlier that week, and you promised to think about it. You did. And you want so desperately to go, but your brain’s too mean, and it just won’t let you.

The disappointment that flashes on his face is fleeting, but you don’t miss it. The hurt softens his features in an unbearable way. It makes your chest ache.

“C’mon,” Steve presses in a gentle lilt. He leans closer to you, eyes twinkling and lips curling. “It could be fun, you know? I mean, everyone’s gonna be there.”

He’s trying his best to persuade you. He has no idea that that’s exactly what’s keeping you from going. Crowds are always stress-inducing, even those of the familiar kind.

“Everyone as in…?”

“Robin, obviously. Dustin, too,” Steve answers, counting on his fingers as he goes. “Max is coming, but Lucas has a basketball thing, so he can’t. And the rest of the little shits are in California, so that’s definitely a plus.”

It’s a dumb joke, but it makes you laugh anyway — a quiet giggle of a thing that makes him grin.

“Uh… Eddie’s coming, too, I think— but don’t let that dissuade you, alright? I promise I’ll protect you from that freak. You don’t have to worry about him.”

You smile because you know he’s joking. You’ve met Eddie a couple times now. He’s always been really sweet to you. Him and Steve just have a strange complex that forces them to be assholes to each other.

“And also, I’m gonna be there. Obviously. So…” he trails off with a wavering smile. So if you don’t wanna come for them, maybe you can come for me, is what he’s really trying to tell you.

“I don’t know,” you repeat, quieter now as you shrink into yourself. You try and fail to meet Steve’s honeyed gaze. “I just feel like I’ll make everything all weird.”

His bushy brows pinch, almost in offense that you’d think you’re anything less than totally perfect. “Why would you think that?”

“‘Cause… I don’t know,” you murmur in a quiet sigh. You don’t want to lie to him, but telling the truth feels so much harder. “They don’t really know me, you know? And I feel like… like I’ll just ruin everything if I’m there…”

It takes Steve a couple of seconds to answer you. He doesn’t know how you could say something that — like you don’t light up every room you’re in. “Well, that’s… that’s just not true,” he argues with a shrug. “They like you. They love you, actually— they just wanna get to know you. And the only way they’re gonna get to know you is if you come hang out every once in a while.”

Your heart flutters. You want to believe him. It’s hard for you to comprehend that anyone could care so much about your presence, so you just nod and don’t say anything further.

Steve is quick to comfort you, almost like he can read your mind. “But if you think it’s gonna be too much, you could always just stick with me. I’ll fend off the freaks for you, no problem.”

His cinnamon eyes glimmer with honey. He looks at you far too fondly to say no.

—————

There’s six of you crammed into Steve’s 733i. It’s already a tight fit, but it’s more suffocating when it’s full of a million different conversations. Almost all of them are pointed your way. Steve tries to bat everyone off of you, but it’s hard to yell at everyone and drive at the same time.

You’re being a pretty good sport about it despite how anxiously helpless you feel.

You wring your clammy hands in your lap and try to regulate your bated breaths, nodding to whatever Max is telling you. It’s hard to hear her because Eddie’s talking to you, too. You’re too scared he’ll think you’re mean if you stop him.

You watch Robin reach for the radio, complaining about all the yelling as she turns up the volume. The cheesy pop song is all you can hear. The conversations around you become a monotone buzzing. You feel like you could just about explode.

“Jesus, you guys are acting like you’ve never seen another person before,” Steve shouts over it all, the only definite thing you can understand. “Let her breathe before she thinks we’re all a bunch of lunatics, alright?”

He’s met with a bunch of muffled complaints, but the noise quietens nonetheless.

Steve glances at you in the rearview, a quick check to make sure you’re still okay. You catch him doing it and try your best to give him a smile. It looks more like a wince.

“Well, it’s your fault for finally bringing someone cool around,” Max argues with all her practiced teenaged ambiguity. “I have to spend all day surrounded by freaks— at least now there’s someone halfway normal to talk to.”

“I’m normal!” Steve insists, face twisted in offense.

“You’re a jock.”

“Hey. C’mon, Red,” Eddie scolds, so obviously playful. “Let’s not go throwing the j-word around—”

The brunette boy huffs. “Thank you!”

“—Jock would imply that Steve’s still cool,” the wild-haired boy continues. “Which he isn’t.”

Poorly hidden laughter fills the small car. Steve nods and mutters beneath it all, “Yeah. Okay. Thanks for the clarification, Munson.”

He glances at you again and finds you cracking a halfway sincere smile. He shoots you a light-hearted glare. “Don’t laugh! You’re just encouraging him!”

“Sorry,” you apologize, hiding your giggle behind your fist. “’M sorry.”

Steve smiles at you, silently tells you he doesn’t really mean it. He’d let Musnon make fun of him all day if he thought it meant he’d get to hear you laugh like that again.

—————

You take your first good breath in an hour when you step out of the car.

Steve shuts it off and gravitates towards you on instinct. His honey eyes are wide as they dart across your flustered features. You see his hands reach towards you, to grab your elbows maybe, but he decides against it.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, quicker than you mean to. “I’m good.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I really tried to—”

“I know,” you cut him off with a sweet, still quiet smile. “It’s still okay.”

He sighs heavy, like a deep breath of relief. “Okay. Good,” he hums, almost to himself, nodding with a pink grin you could stare at all day. He would’ve let you, but neither of you get the chance.

Your friends start messing around, and the chaos melts into the buzzing crowd surrounding you, and you realize the two of you aren’t the only people on earth. Bummer.

You gather around the large map at the entrance of the bustling mall. “Where should we go first?” Dustin chirps from the front of the crowd. His eyes are as wide as his smile. “Game Player? Sam Goody? Oh, look— they have a RadioShack! I’ve been looking for a new supercomm. It’s on the other side of the building, though, but we can just work our way around, I guess—”

“Jesus, Dusty-Bun,” Robin interjects with a gritty laugh. She stands on the outside of the group, arms crossed over her chest, effortlessly too cool for it all. “Take a breath, buddy.”

“Don’t call me that!” the boy gripes over his right shoulder.

Steve shrugs. “Go wherever you want to. I don’t care.”

Dustin looks to his left, shooting the older boy a glare. “Aren’t you supposed to be the babysitter?”

“You’re fourteen!”

“Well, what if I get kidnapped?”

“No one’s kidnapping you, alright? Trust me,” Steve jokes, only smiling when he sees you trying to hide yours. He puts his hands on his waist and cocks his hip to the side. “They’ll send you right back where you came from. You have nothing to worry about.”

Dustin squints. “Rude.”

“We’ll just meet back at the food court in, like, two hours. And if you don’t get yourself killed, you’ll be fine,” Steve reasons with a nonchalant shrug and a jutted-out lip.

“Oh. Wow. Thanks, Steve. What would I ever do without you?”

He rolls his cinnamon eyes at the boy’s monotone. “Alright, smartass.”

When the rest of the group dissipates, he leans over to nudge your shoulder. It knocks you from your stupor — so deep in your own head you were practically drowning. You blink at him with wide, glassy eyes. “Hm?”

“Do you wanna go anywhere?” he asks with a wavering smile. His laugh is equally forced. “You’re kinda staring a hole into the map there…”

“Oh. No. I was just…” you trail off with a shake of your head. You’re not entirely sure what to tell him, how to make him understand your easily overstimulated mind. “I was just distracted. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. No big deal.”

“Where did everyone else go?” you wonder with a furrow to your brow, noticing the lack of familiar chaos around you.

“Eddie and Dustin went to some movie store, and I think Robin and Max are on the hunt for cassettes.”

“Okay...” you nod with a tremble in your voice.

You’re still not totally used to being alone with Steve. Your friends are usually good distractions. They fill your awkward silences with something funnier and talk loud when you get too quiet. When they’re not around it’s just… awkward silences and quiet air.

You get too in your own head, so eager to impress the pretty boy beside you, that you end up putting your foot in your mouth.

Steve doesn’t seem nearly as apprehensive. Instead, he’s beaming at the fact that he’s finally got you alone. He doesn’t have to worry about quieting Dustin when he gets too loud or shoving Eddie away when he forgets what personal space is. It’s quieter with just the two of you — warmer, cozier, easier.

“Wanna go down to the food court?” he wonders, honey eyes sparkling when he looks your way. “I know you haven’t eaten anything yet, so…”

Your eyes narrow, accusing and playful. “How would you know that?”

“Uh, ‘cause I know you,” the boy scoffs like it’s obvious. “I basically have to force you to eat every morning.”

“That’s not true!”

“It so is!” Steve giggles and it’s heaven to your ears, the exact sound of honey. “That’s why I hate not opening with you. ‘Cause if I’m not around to force you to eat the other half of my Poptart, I’m just, like, worrying if you’re withering away or not.”

Your face burns hot. Your heart swells with a similar warmth that borders on painful. You didn’t think he cared so much about you — or that he ever thought about you outside of work or the occasional hangout.

“Fine,” you concede with your arms crossed over your chest, trying not to seem as flustered as you feel. “Let’s go to the food court.”

Steve grins. He follows you in stride when you start to head that way. “Cool. We can go get one of those disgustingly good burgers or something.”

“For breakfast?” you wonder with a light-hearted laugh.

“Yeah! Like, one of those crazy huge ones, you know? The patties are, like, the size of your fist— make a fist.”

You do. You ball your fingers and hold them up between you. Steve holds onto your wrist for further inspection, fingers long and warm and soft. You swallow.

“Bigger than your fist,” he corrects with a laugh. The sweet sound is drowned out by the swell of yelling teenagers. They talk so loudly and over one another that their conversations become a meaningless drones.

Two in particular shove at one another, laughing loud like it’s fun. One of them almost barrels into you — long blonde hair, tight shirt, tighter jeans, and cologne so potent it stings your nose. He just narrowly misses you, mostly because Steve’s there to yank you out of the way.

The boy’s gentle grip on you tightens. He pulls you close until you’re stumbling into his side. With a strong arm wrapped around you, he shouts at the roughhousing teens — “Watch where you’re going, assholes!”

The scrawny boys walk on ahead of you. They seem apologetic, halfway scared at first. When they realize Steve’s not rushing to beat their asses, they chuckle about the whole thing and keep punching each other.

You’re still frozen in shock — not so much of fear anymore, but of how tightly Steve’s holding onto you. It’s an embrace of the firmer kind, a touch so solid you feel immediately safer inside it. You don’t think you’ve ever been this close before. The teenage girl in your heart starts to spin.

“You okay?” Steve asks when the anger ebbs.

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing tightly and forcing an awkward laugh. “You don’t have to keep asking me that, you know?”

He nods rapidly, then notices how close he’s holding you. Fearful that he’s made you uncomfortable, he uncurls his arm from around you and takes a small step back. “No, I know! I just wanna— I just wanna make sure, you know? ‘Cause I know you don’t like… all this.”

He waves his hands vaguely out beside him.

You’re immediately cold without him holding you. You wrap your arms around yourself to compensate for the lack of him.

“Yeah, but… It’s not the rest of the world’s fault that I’m scared of everything,” you say with another forced laugh, shifting your weight on your feet. If you could melt into your oversized sweater, you would. “It’s mine. So I can deal with it. I have to deal with it.”

Steve nods, slower this time and with a silent sense of understanding. He steps closer to you and shrugs. “I think the least I can do is make it a little easier on you… And I feel like I’ve been doing the exact opposite of that all day.”

“That’s not true,” you argue with the shake of your head.

His chocolate eyes widen. You’re rarely so assertive. “No?”

“No,” you answer, softer this time as you grow sheepish all over again. Your unsure gaze darts from your dirty sneakers to his twinkling eyes until it makes you dizzy. “You’re actually making it more bearable for me, so…”

“Oh. Okay. Good,” he nods with a smile, breathless because his chest is swelling with pride. He knows the world can be a little much for someone as soft as you. It’s good to know that he’s the exception to all that.

He gets lost in the way you look at him for a moment too long. He clears his throat and stammers, “Uh, do you still wanna go get food?” he asks, pointing off beside him. “We can find somewhere quiet to eat so we don’t have to deal with teenage douchebags the entire time.”

Your heart lurches into your throat. It’s practically your love language — spending time alone in a quiet space, with no overt need for conversation or people to fill the void.

You nod, trying and failing to hide the beam on your face. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

—————

The quiet place in question is a photo booth on the halfway vacant, furthest end of the mall. Closed curtains, small spaces, and entwined breaths. It smells like his deep cologne, your perfume, and a freshly cooked meal. It’s too easy to forget that there’s a whole world outside of here.

You sit twisted on the bench, facing Steve with your burger trays in front of you. You pluck salty fries from the plate with a trembling hand, distantly fearful that you’re not supposed to be eating here. You think being so close to Steve is worth the risk.

“Is this the day you were expecting to have?” Steve asks with a lopsided grin. He takes a big bite of his burger right after and gets mustard on the corner of his mouth.

“No,” you answer, giggling as he swipes the stain away with his tongue. “But not because it’s bad.”

“Hm?” he hums to egg you on. He’s got too much of a mouthful for anything else.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, equally nonverbal as you chew on a handful of fry crumbs. You swipe your palms together to dispel the grains of salt. “I’m having more fun than I thought I would, actually.”

Steve scoffs in disbelief. “Spending time with me? Alone in a photo booth? That’s a good time to you?”

His tone makes you self-conscious. You feel a little shameful, like a child, because you don’t need much to be entertained. You get all warm with embarrassment, too. Being alone with Steve has always felt like climbing mountains — something short of an adrenaline rush that makes you think you could conquer the world. Maybe you’re too small in comparison to do the same for him.

“Yeah,” you shrug in an inaudible murmur. “I don’t know— I just… I like spending time with you, you know? I don’t really care what we’re doing.”

Steve’s chest swells. From a girl who too often keeps to herself, inherently nervous and incessantly frightened of being a burden, it’s more of a proclamation of love than he ever thought he’d get from you.

“Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he confesses with a crooked pink grin, internally praying his cheeks aren’t as red hot as they feel.

He holds his half-eaten burger out towards you. You knock yours with his, clinking them together like champagne glasses. He takes another too big bite. You go to do the same but get a whiff of the sleeve of your sweater before you can.

“God, I smell like a teenage boy,” you groan, only half-playful. The nose-burning musk from the kid from before has seemingly stuck itself onto you. Like fruit and sage and wood and vanilla, every scent ever made combined.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything, but you definitely smell like bodyspray,” Steve affirms, scruffy cheeks jutted out from the burger in his mouth.

“I think I’ve been tainted,” you giggle, a quieter sound compared to his boyish laughter. “Thanks for saving me, by the way.”

You’re saying it to be nice, but you watch him get all shy about it when you take a bite of your sandwich. He shifts on the bench, like he suddenly can’t get comfortable. When he rubs his palms on his thighs, you can’t tell if it’s because of the salty fries or because they’re clammy.

“Yeah— I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to grab you like that,” he stammers with an apologetic twinkle in his eye and a gaze that can’t quite meet yours. “Just so you know. I was just trying to—”

“Save me?” you interject.

Steve smiles when he sees how softly you’re looking at him. He shrugs. “Well, I was gonna say ‘pull you from the line of fire,’ but sure.”

“It’s okay,” you repeat for perhaps the thousandth time that day. “I didn’t mind. It felt nice, actually— you have really warm hands.”

“That’s ‘cause yours are always ice cold.”

“Well, maybe that’s because you’re not holding them,” you blurt before you mean to.

You freeze mid-bite, eyes wide in distant horror as your blood runs cold. In a desperate attempt to break away from the awkwardness you caused, you muster a trembling smile. “I’m kidding,” you murmur, halfway hidden behind your burger.

You weren’t.

Steve knows this, too, so he smiles.

He’d been thinking about it all day, in truth — how he was gonna get to hold your hand without having to stick his foot in his mouth to ask you. Turns out, a series of unfortunate events and an impromptu date in a photo booth was all it took. And he’s grateful. For all of it.

“No, you weren’t,” he teases, fingers as warm as his smile when he wraps them around yours. He holds gently onto your hand — even though it makes eating a little harder, even though your fingers are cold, even though you tremble.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: fictober!

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frenchkisstheabyss · 4 months

Text

୨୧ tell me a secret ୨୧

୨୧ Pairing: roommate!hyunjin x chubby!fem!reader x roommate!yeji

୨୧ Genre: fluff/smut

୨୧ Summary: Stuck in the house with nothing to do on a Friday night, you and your roommates decide to play a game called Tell Me A Secret. Similar to Truth or Dare, the rules are simple. Do the dare or spill your secrets. It's just an innocent, fun way to pass the time. Well, maybe not so innocent.

୨୧ Word Count: 2.3kish

୨୧ Warnings: ✨ first and foremost, if you don't wanna be with a girl I humbly thank you for stopping by but the exit is to your left ✨ fingering, oral sex (f receiving & you're the one giving), a lil nipple play, a lil roughness, finger sucking, unprotected sex, creampie, brief mention of masturbation (m & f), hyunjin has listened to you masturbate btw, yeji's a lil jealous, threesome (obviously, babes), the hwangs share you but don't hook up w/ each other, spanking, pet names (pretty girl, baby), low key soft dom vibes, heavy make out sesh.

୨୧ A/N: I received this as a request from a darling anon so here we are. I think it's super sweet that I got this request because I never get them for girl groups so yas kween. Anyway, I hope you love it my sweet anon and everyone else too!

“Aaaah! No way! Ew! I can’t watch this!” Yeji shrieks, covering her eyes with the blanket.

Standing at the side of your bed, Hyunjin swishes a raw egg around in a glass. The three of you had every intention of going to a party tonight but an unexpected storm had other plans. So here you all are, lounging around in your pajamas daring each other to drink raw eggs.

“You won’t do it!” you taunt, fiddling with the ears of the teddy bear in your lap, “Just tell us a secret.” Yeji stretches out across the bed, resting her head on your thigh. “Yeah, tell us. Did you actually hook up with that girl who works at the cafe?” she asks, scrunching her nose up, “The girl who smells like ketchup.”

You seize the opportunity to double down on poor Hyunjin. It’s one of the many unspoken rules of the apartment. “She does smell like ketchup. They don’t even have ketchup there.” “Shut up!” Hyunjin huffs, placing a hand on his hip. He stares down at the raw egg, his stomach turning the longer he drags out the inevitable.

Tilting his head back, he brings the cup to his lips and—

“Shit, I can’t do it.”

“I knew it” Yeji gloats, slyly moving her head further onto your lap. She turns to give you the cutest pouty face. The one that you just know means she wants you to play in her hair. You give in without thinking, that’s what you always do with Yeji. How could you ever say no to a girl like her?

Twirling her silken strands around your fingertips, you try to remind yourself that this is your best friend. Your roommate. Yes she’s been cozying up to you a lot more lately but it’s nothing. Just like the thumping in your chest whenever she takes your hand or kisses your cheek. It’s nothing.

“Okay, so, uh, I didn’t hook up with the ketchup girl but…” Hyunjin sets the glass down on the dresser and pauses for dramatic effect, “Seungmin did. That’s a secret right?” You and Yeji gasp in unison, the shock of Hyunjin’s betrayal rocking you to your core.

“You did not just—you’re a terrible!” you laugh, shaking your head. “You should be ashamed” Yeji agrees, reveling in the regret on Hyunjin’s face. Hyunjin flips you the middle finger, “Fine then. Fuck you guys, I’m going to bed.” He isn’t really mad, both of you know it, and he isn’t really going anywhere but you entrain his tantrum anyway.

“Jinnie, come on. We were just joking. Stay” you beg, catching him by the wrist as he goes to grab his phone. Yeji’s pouty face may have the power to bring anyone to their knees but so does yours and Hyunjin’s nowhere near immune to it. He doesn’t want to be.

He forces you to suffer for a few more seconds, a scowl fixed on his face, before giving in. “Fine but it’s your turn now” he says, hopping onto the bed, “Tell us a secret or do the dare.” “Well you have to tell me what the dare is first.” Yeji and Hyunjin turn to each other, striking up a silent conversation only they can understand.

As close as the three of you are, the connection they have is near telepathic and has meant trouble for you since the day you moved in. Yeji sits up, her strawberry gloss tinted lips mere inches from your face, “Kiss us.”

Suddenly your internal temperature skyrockets, making the room unbearably hot. “K-kiss you?” you stutter, “On the cheek you mean?” Hyunjin cracks a devious smile, “Not quite.” You look to Yeji and back to Hyunjin. Back to Yeji. Back to Hyunjin. This is obviously a joke. “Right, ha ha ha. So funny. You got your joke in, Jinnie. I’m sorry I teased you, okay?”

“He’s not joking” Yeji persists, petting your cheek to bring your focus back to her, “We’ve all thought about it. Don’t lie and say you haven’t.” You could say you haven’t but she’s right, it’d be a lie. One of the biggest lies you’d ever tell in your life. The fantasies you’ve had of being with them, separately and together, are filthy enough to make a porn star blush.

How they look at you, it’s like they know how often you’ve wondered what it’d be like to feel their lips…hands…bodies…on yours. It dawns on you that maybe they can read your mind too. Shit.

“So,” Hyunjin hums, moving in close enough to pin you between the two of them, “What’s it gonna be then?”

So, what’s it gonna be then?

The kiss.

The tiniest nervous peck on the lips. One for each of them. But you kissed Hyunjin for a split second longer than you did Yeji, she swears it. So one more for her, this one much deeper than the last, her arm coming around your waist to caress the softness of your hips. But Yeji’s gotten too greedy, the excitement of finally having you right where she wants you making it hard to let you go.

So one more for Hyunjin who doesn’t let you catch your breath for more than a moment before he captures you in another kiss, his hands slipping beneath your thin tank top to delight in the fullness of your figure. Yeji plants kisses down your shoulder, pulling your shorts aside just enough to get a peek at the lace panties beneath.

She remembers when you bought those. You were out shopping together and you asked which pair you should get to wear for some guy you were dating at the time. What a waste, she’d thought, that an asshole like that got to have you. You feel her smile as her hands dip into your shorts. It’s her turn to have you now.

“You want more, baby?” Hyunjin asks, breathlessly, running his thumb across the hardened bud that pokes through the material of your bra. “Mmm, yes. More” you whine, your entire body reacting to his touch. He grins at how sensitive you are, closing two fingers around the bud to pinch it until he’s swallowing your needy moans.

He hears them when you think you’re home alone, the low hum of your vibrator audible through your bedroom door. Standing in that hallway, his cock throbbing in his hand, precum pooling in his palm, all he wanted was to taste those moans as they left your lips. Now that he has, he’s positive he’ll get addicted. They’re far more delicious than he ever imagined.

“Open up for me” Yeji whispers, tickling your inner thigh, “Let me feel how wet you are for us.” You do exactly as you’re told, spreading your legs to grant her fingers access to the juices soaking their way through your panties. “Aww, baby, you’re such a mess” she coos, tucking your panties to the side to stroke your slit, “Jinnie, come here. You’ve gotta feel this.”

With one hand still toying with your nipple, he brings the other between your legs. Yeji drags hers upward, coating your clit in your own arousal as Hyunjin sinks a finger into your warmth. Your back arches, lust coursing through your veins, and any remnants of your former shyness falls away. Your mouth is at Yeji’s again, your tongues sloppily entangled in one another's.

It’s almost rhythmic, the rapid rise and fall of her chest as your hand ventures under her shirt to caress her breasts. Yeji hates bras, she thinks they’re an old world torture device, and her refusal to wear them has always made you happy. Especially now. They’re so plush and tender, fitting perfectly into your palms as if they were meant to be there.

You reach back to trace the outline of the bulge forming in Hyunjin’s sweatpants. He groans when you apply pressure, your fingers wrapping around as much of him as you can. You descend into a sea of moans, ravenously reaching for any part of each other you can. Clothing’s shed between kisses, between glossy eyed cries of ecstasy, until the three of you are completely naked, bodies intertwined.

Yeji lays back on the bed, her head nestled comfortably on your pillow, and watches Hyunjin play with you. He has you positioned on your knees facing her as he kneels behind you, one arm tucked beneath your tits and the other around your waist. He holds you close to his chest, fingering you at a merciless pace. “Jinnie, oh, fuck. So good” you moan, rocking your hips to feel him deeper.

Hyunjin leans into your ear, his breath tickling the tiny hairs on your neck. “Is it good, baby? Hmm? I make you feel good?” His voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard, his need for you bringing out an aggression that has you clenching even tighter than you already were. Yeji licks her lips, catching a glimpse of the way your juices glisten on Hyunjin’s fingers.

“Can I taste?” she asks, parting her legs to run her expensively manicured fingers through her folds. What’s between her thighs is nothing short of a work of art. She has the prettiest pussy you’ve ever seen and it’s dripping all over your sheets. You’ll never wash them again. Hyunjin eases his fingers out of your core, raising them to your lips. You take them into your mouth, sucking them clean before leaning down to kiss Yeji.

“Mmm, such a tasty little cunt” she hums, her knuckles bumping your clit as she rubs her own. Snatching her by the wrist, you bring her fingers to your lips and run your tongue over them. She tastes amazing. Good enough to eat. “I’m not the only one who’s tasty” you smile, this new side of you making her blush.

Hyunjin grabs you by the hips, pulling you towards him so that your ass rests in his lap and your face hovers just above Yeji’s core. He slaps your ass one cheek at a time, far too in love with the way it jiggles. “Hyunjin!” you giggle, jumping a bit at the sting of his slaps, “Cut it out. I’m trying to eat here.” He aligns himself with your entrance, stretching you with his thick tip before stopping to watch you squirm.

Yeji snakes her fingers through your hair, her clit twitching in anticipation. You waste no time plunging your tongue into her, your face buried between her legs. She tastes even better this way, walls fluttering around your tongue. Hyunjin thrusts into you and your knees almost give out. “No, no, no. None of that” he scolds, slapping your ass harder this time, “Stay up for me so I can fuck you the way you deserve.”

Another thrust and you’re squealing into Yeji’s pussy. The vibrations are heavenly, heightening the feeling of your tongue flicking at her g spot. Your bodies sync together effortlessly. Every snap of Hyunjin’s hips. Every light suck of Yeji’s clit. Every tug of your hair and moan she sends flowing through the air. Everything builds into the next, taking the three of you beyond your limits.

“Look at me” Yeji mewls, cupping your cheeks to lift your face up. She wishes she could take a picture of you like this, kitten licking her slit with those bright beautiful eyes of yours fixed on her. “I-I…cum…gonna—” You purse your lips around her clit, circling it with the tip of your tongue while you suck it harder the closer she gets.

Hyunjin kisses up your back, pressing so deep into you that you begin to tremble. Your gaze remains locked on Yeji and hers on you. You see her body tense, a fleeting look of shock washing over her face before her body’s spasming. She rides your face, eyes rolling back as she floods your tongue with her cum.

No matter which direction she twists in you try to follow her but it’s hell when every ridge of Hyunjin’s cock is flush against your walls. He throws his head back, finding it difficult to wrap his mind around how good you feel. It’s almost too much. The fullness in your lower stomach grows the deeper he strokes and you just know you can’t hold out any longer. Yeji knows too, holding your hands as she floats down from her high.

“Cum for us pretty girl.”

“Fuck, yes, let me feel you.”

The sound of their voices melded together is sexier than it has any right being. In an instant you lose control of your limbs, your eyes falling shut as you’re overwhelmbed with pleasure. Hyunjin pulls back a little, sliding you up and down to see how completely coated in you he is. Watching himself disappear into you, your cream decorating his cock, pushes him over the edge.

Just as the fullness inside of you begins to calm down, he’s pumping more than enough cum into you to bring it back twice as strong as before. But you couldn’t handle another orgasm if you wanted to. You’re ready to collapse. Hyunjin rubs your back, comforting your weakened form before his own body gives out on him. You roll over onto your backs, staring up at the ceiling in disbelief of what just happened.

What does this mean for your friendship? Will this change things between you? Or will you just wake up tomorrow and pretend it never happened? As your collective gasps for air quiet, a sense of peace falls across the room. Yeji scoots in closer to you, throwing a leg across your waist and Hyunjin snuggles up to your belly.

“You know…” Hyunjin mumbles, his eyes barely open, “You never actually chose.” Filing through the haze in your brain, you realize that he’s right.

“Uh, hmm, I’ll tell you a secret then I guess.”

“Oh, sweetie” Yeji sighs, playfully pinching your cheek, “I think we already know.”

#hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #yeji x reader #yeji x you #hyunjin smut #yeji smut #stray kids x reader #itzy x reader #chubby reader

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