#damn you for this i've been giggling for ages.

[sweetrainbowcandy]

part 2 to my logan x chubby!reader fic which you can find here <3

a/n: I'm sorry this took so long! i've been really busy recently getting ready to move into uni, so my minds been on other things :( this was super fun to write, tho!

tags: 18+, MDNI, smut, chubby!reader, worst wolverine!logan, wade and logan are neighbors with reader, age gap, some angst (maybe?), logan gets jealous, daddy kink, logan makes you squirt

wc: ~4k

“So, Peanut, you gonna tell me about your rendezvous with little-miss-gumdrop across the hall?”

Logan pauses, setting down the weight he was curling and slowly turning to look at Wade. It had been a day since Logan went over to help fix your sink, and unfortunately his self proclaimed ‘wingman’ had been giving him an overly knowing look ever since.

“Nothin’ to tell,” he turns back around, his bicep flexing as he curls the weight, “Fixed her sink ‘n left.”

“Thats it?” Wade asked, taken aback, “You didn’t even hit her with the ol, ‘How bout you let me get up in your pipes next, bub?’” Wade’s voice drops to a deep rumble as he imitates Logan, and he drops the weight with a thud,

“Do you ever shut your damn trap?” Logan snaps, whipping around and shoving a finger at Wade’s chest. Wade gasps in mock offense, daintily slapping away Logan’s hand and placing the back of his hand over his forehead,

“I knew it, you are seeing her!” He says, forcing out a choked sob, “And I thought what we had was special, honey badger!” Logan rolls his eyes, walking over to the door and slipping on his jacket, boots brushing against the doormat.

“I’m going for a smoke,” he growls, grabbing a cigar out of the container on the stand next to the door, feeling around for the zippo in his pocket.

“Oh yeah, storm out the second you know you’re in the wrong!” Wade calls, holding up Mary Puppins and hugging her to his chest, “At least remember to pay child support!” Wade manages to shove in before the door shuts behind Logan. He ran a hand down his face and shook his head. Wade was insufferable, but he was a good guy. Sometimes.

“Oh, Logan!” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, blinking as he turned to face you. You were just stepping out of your apartment, hair and makeup done immaculately, adorned in a skimpy silk dress that showed off each delectably pudgy curve. You smiled up at him shyly, fidgeting with the strap of your purse slung over your shoulder.

Fuck.

Logan gulped, his fists clenching in the pockets of his leather jacket, “Hey,” he greets with a nod, quickly looking you up and down before clearing his throat and nodding to your outfit, “You, uh,” he pauses, his mouth feeling dry, “You goin’ out?”

You giggled softly, nodding and reaching down to tug at the scandalously short hem of your dress. Shit, what Logan wouldn’t give to tear through it with his claws, leave it in shreds on the floor and take you right here in the hall for everyone to hear—

“Yeah! I’ve, uhm, just got a little date to go to,” you said, struggling to keep eye contact with the large, intimidating man.

A what?

Logan felt hot anger flare up inside of him, his jaw clenching as his brow furrowed, “A date?” He growls, his voice sounding more predatory then he intended. Your eyelashes fluttered against your chubby cheeks in confusion, a bit surprised by his reaction.

“Y-Yeah, a date,” you stammer, shrinking a bit in on yourself. You couldn’t read his expression beyond the frustration, and a small part of you wondered if he was… jealous. But that wouldn’t make sense, right? You barely knew each other!

But Logan was irrationally upset, and he wasn’t known for his self soothing. What the fuck did some chump have that he couldn’t give you? He bet it was some geeky dude who weighed less than one-fifty with twig arms and a pimple-scarred face. Some fucking dweeb who didn’t know how to handle a woman like you.

But Logan didn’t have any claim over you. Just because he fixed your sink didn’t give him the right to be possessive. He was just acting like an animal again.

“…That’s… nice,” Logan grunts, turning towards the stairs, shooting you another look over his shoulder and nodding, “Good luck. Make sure he treats you right,” he says, before retreating down the stairs. He was oblivious to the way that you watched him leave, the way you gulped and looked down at your feet as you considered following him. But you didn’t. You took a deep breath and turned to head down the opposite stairwell. You had a date to meet.

It was later when the door to Logan and Wade’s apartment slammed shut, Logan’s leather jacket meeting the floor as he stormed into the kitchen.

“Woah there, Koolaid Man! Come through the fucking wall next time, why don’t you?” Wade calls from the living room, his words muffled by the sandwich he was macking on.

“Shut your fucking trap,” Logan snaps, rifling through the fridge before pulling out a beer, unsheathing his claws and using one to pop off the cap. Wade raises his free hand in self defense,

“Jesus Christ, did your cigar finally bite back? What the hell crawled up your tight bubble butt and died? Because I’ll tell you, whatever it was, I’m jealous,” Wade says, pointing to Logan before taking another bite of his sandwich.

Logan tilted back the beer, his throat bobbing with each gulp. He heard Wade whistle as he watched him down the whole bottle before throwing it to the ground and reaching to grab another, not even bothering with the shattered glass. His jaw clenched as he struggled to open the next bottle, before he let out a snarl and hit the cap off of the edge of the counter, causing it to fly off. His hand shook as he threw back the next beer.

Wade watched with a raised eyebrow, lowering the sandwich to where Mary Puppins was sitting next to him on the floor, her little nose twitching as she sniffed at it before awkwardly shoving it in her mouth, “…Did you run into gumdrop?” Wade asks, taking a shot in the dark why his roommate would be so pissed.

Logan braced his hands against the counter, shoulder’s rising and falling with each ragged breath. Before he knew what he was doing, he lowered his head and nodded, “Yeah,” he says, swallowing before speaking up again, his voice a deep rumble that barely reached Wade’s ears, “She said she had a date.”

Wade’s nonexistent eyebrows raised, and for once, he was quiet for a second. He thought about Vanessa, how he’d felt when she said she started seeing a guy from work. Sure, him and Vanessa had known each other for much longer than Logan had known you, but Wade knew how strongly Logan felt emotions.

Wade snaps his fingers and lets out an ‘ah-hah!’, moving to stand up and walk into the kitchen, “I’ve got it— you find the guy, challenge him to a gladiator-style naked mud wrestling match, invite her to watch, spear him from his tip to his gooch, then rip out his testicles and feed them to her like grapes. See the way you won her over? Very mindful, very demure.”

Logan’s brow just furrows, and he shoots Wade a frustrated and confused look, “Jesus Christ, you little shit, could you not run your mouth for one second?” He says through clenched teeth, turning to throw back more of his drink as Wade just shrugs,

“Okay, honey-b, I’m just trying to help,” he says, turning to walk back to the living room, “But if you wanna be the pussy who’s standing here drinking his frustrations away instead of confessing to the girl he’s obviously interested before she’s taken away, be my guest,” Wade says as he gestures dismissively at him.

Logan paused, moving to place his beer back on the counter with a click. As much as he hated to admit it, Wade had a point. What kind of pathetic loser just sat and drank his jealousy and sadness away instead of proving himself to her that he was better?

Wade flinched as he heard the sound of another bottle breaking against the floor, sitting up and watching as Logan stormed towards the door, “Fuck, another one? You’re cleaning this up when you get back, young man!” Wade calls as Logan tugs on his jacket before opening the door, slamming it behind him. Wade sighs, leaning back into the couch, “Go get ‘em, peanut.”

Logan’s at your door in a second. His large fist slamming against the heavy wood a good four—five times before he steps back, silently cursing that he didn’t check his appearance before he stepped out of the apartment.

Shit, what was he doing? You were too young and sweet for him, too much of a little angel to want anything to do with some old jaded fuck like him. He should just turn around, go back and have Wade rub it in his face how—

“Logan?”

And there it was again, you catching him off-guard by calling his name. You stood there, dressed in just a nightgown with your hair down around your shoulders, and fuck, you smelt good. It must be that same vanilla body butter he smelt when he was last this close to you. It was only now Logan realized how fucking late it was.

“Sorry, I—“ he began, cutting himself off and gulping, “…I can come back later if it’s too late,” he says, his voice deep and uncharacteristically soft. To his surprise, you smile, shaking your head and gesturing inside after stepping back.

“Not at all,” you say as you shut the door behind him. The lights in your apartment are dim, and Logan tries not to think about how fucking intimate it is, how too big and lumbering he feels in your space. “So what’s up?”

Logan blinks, snapping himself out of his thoughts as he realizes he didn’t just come into your apartment to awkwardly stand around. Shit, he didn’t prepare for this part.

“…How’s your sink?”

You’re both quiet before you let out a snort, round cheeks tinting as you giggle, placing a hand over your mouth. Logan feels a rare but hot flush of selfconsciousness spread down his neck, looking off to the side and nervously shifting his weight between his feet,

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer between giggles, shaking your head and sighing, “I just— you looked so serious, I thought something was wrong,” you say as you pad over to your fridge, pulling it open and taking out a water bottle, “Drink?”

“…’M alright,” Logan watches as you nod, uncapping it and tilting it back to take a sip. He watches how your throat bobs with each gulp, his cock twitching in his jeans. Shit, he wasn’t ready for this. But he didn’t have a choice— he had to.

You place the bottle down on the sink, smiling as you recap it, “It’s working just fine thanks to you,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Logan nods, feigning a leisurely look around to try and come off as more casual.

“How was your date?” Logan asks after a second, and you pause, your smile faltering. Logan feels himself begin to panic— shit, was he crossing a line? His lips part, no words coming out for a minute before he chokes out, “If you don’t wanna talk about it-“

“No, no,” you cut him off gently, forcing a small smile as you cross your soft arms under your chest, almost hugging yourself. You just shook your head, sighing before speaking, “He just… we didn’t really get along.”

Logan felt bad for the fireworks that went off inside of him, quickly shoving down the celebratory thoughts and clearing his throat, nodding apologetically, “‘M sorry to hear that,” he says, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets.

You shake your head, forcing a soft laugh, “It’s alright, can’t expect every guy to have what I’m looking for, you know?” You say, which catches Logan’s attention. You watch the muscles in his jaw shift,

“…And what are you looking for?” He asks, taking a step forward, and you feel the energy between you shift. Your breath catches, and your hand comes up to rest against your chest,

“Uhm,” you stammer out softly, biting your bottom lip. Fuck, it drives Logan insane. Wanting to replace your teeth with his, tug that lip between his teeth while he envelopes your mouth with his, “Someone… reliable,” you begin, watching as he steps closer to you. Your breath catches, but you force yourself to keep talking even as your voice began to wobble, “strong…” you blink up at him, long lashes fluttering against your cheeks, “…older.”

Logan sucks in a sharp breath, the both of you practically standing toe-to-toe now. You have to crane your neck to look up at him, his hand raising to gently cradle your face. You shakily exhale as his thumb runs over your bottom lip, and you can’t stop yourself as your tongue pokes out to coax the finger into your mouth.

“Fuck,” Logan growls, letting you suck on his thumb before he presses and slides it against your tongue, “You need someone to take care of you, ain’t that right, doll?” You whimper around his thumb, and he softly clicks his tongue, “You gotta ask me properly, bub.”

You pull your lips off his thumb with a soft ‘pop’, slightly panting as your glazed over eyes lock with his fiercer ones, “Please take care of me, Logan,” you plead, your voice a breathy whine. Logan’s gaze darkens,

“I will, pretty girl,” his knuckles caress the side of your face, his other hand moving to splay out on your lower back, “Let me give you what these little boys can’t.”

He leans in, and before you know it, his rough lips are on yours. He immediately groans at the feeling of just how soft your lips are, evidently just like the rest of you. His hand moves from your face to tangle in the hair at the base of your scalp, tugging slightly and causing you to whimper. The sound just makes his cock twitch, his inhibitions already escaping him.

He curses against your lips, pushing you back against the counter, tongue probing into your mouth and dancing with your own. The wet, slick noises of your mouths moving against each other echo in the kitchen of your apartment, complimented by his feral growls and your whimpers. He pulls back, his lip pulled back slightly in a snarl,

“I’m gonna treat you right, doll,” he says as his hands trail down to grope at your fat ass over your nightgown, causing you to gasp and whine softly, arching back into his touch,

“Logan,” you whimper needily, looking back up at him and squirming in his hold. He curses, reaching down to pick you up, your eyes widening, “Wait, Logan, I’m too—!“ you cut yourself off with a gasp as he effortlessly lifts you, walking over to the couch in your living room and laying you down on it.

“Shut up,” he growls as he leans back down to connect your lips again, his big, rough hands sliding down your body as your back lifts off the cushions below you. He pulls back, shifting to lean his weight onto one arm as the other goes lower until he’s hiking up the skirt of your nightgown, causing you to gasp.

“Can fuckin’ smell you,” he says against your ear, his tongue poking out to lick his lips, “Cunt’s all nice and wet for me, huh?” You nod eagerly, spreading your chubby thighs and hearing Logan groan at the sight of the wet spot spreading on your lacy panties. He sits back on his haunches, reaching down to grab the crotch of your panties and tearing them, the fabric ripping like tissue paper under his grip. You gasp, watching him discard them off the side of the couch.

“Perfect fuckin’ pussy,” his hands lower, gaze hungry and dark as his thumbs part your lips. Your stuttered breaths cause your tits to jiggle, and Logan pulls his hands away from your cunt to grab the neckline of your nightgown. He tugs it down, tucking it under your tits which spill out into the cool air of your apartment.

You yelp and whimper as he slaps and gropes one, his other hand returning to your cunt. He looks down and groans as his thumb finds the hood of your clit, pulling it back over the little nub and smirking, “There she is,” he whispers, “Don’t even need to spit or anything, huh? Pussy’s already so fuckin’ messy,” he says as he begins to roll his thumb in tight circles over your clit.

You let out a cry as your hips buck into his hand, his bigger one shooting down from your breast to pin down your chubby stomach and keep you from moving, “Take it,” he snarls, and you can do nothing but kick your trembling legs and whimper as you claw at his arm, tears welling in your eyes. He shifts his weight, sliding his fingers down before slipping two of them inside of you.

He covers your mouth with his as you squeal, swallowing your cries and moans as he begins to jerk his thick, rough, long fingers up and down against the anterior walls of your pussy, hammering right up against that sensitive, spongy spot inside you. Your vision begins to go hazy, drool spilling out from between your lips and down your chin as you whimper. Your thighs quiver and he pulls back, lips pressed right up against your ear,

“Come on, bub, know you wanna cum real nice all over my fuckin’ hand,” he whispers, nipping your earlobe and secretly praying that your neighbors can hear the wavering cries escaping from your glistening lips as he pummels your pussy with his fingers. You sob, choking out his name, and before you know it you’re squirting and spraying all over his hand. He groans, “That’s it, just like that,” he coaxes, fingering you through it until you’re laid back and gasping for air like it’s a commodity.

He sits up, lifting your plump legs over his hips as he reaches to slide your nightgown up and off your body, dropping it carelessly next to your torn panties on the floor. He finds his hands softly running down your plump body, admiring that glazed over and drunken look in your eyes. He leans down, pressing a surprisingly soft kiss against your cheek,

“This alright?” He asks, and you can feel the bass of his voice against your chest as yours and his pressed together. Your cheeks warm up at the sentiment, that he still cared to check in despite the heat of the moment. You nod, reaching up to softly run your fingers through his hair,

“Yeah,” you whisper, not realizing just how whiny and high-pitched your voice had gotten, “Please,” your hands trail down from his hair to gently claw down his back, legs locking behind his hips. He grunts, hovering over you and reaching down to unbuckle his belt, sliding it off and barely registering it clattering against the floor.

“Say it again, baby,” he growls as he shucks off his jacket and tank top, his chest glistening with sweat. You watched as he reached to unbutton and tug down his jeans, reaching down and fishing his cock out of his boxers. You gasp at the sheer size and thickness of it, not to mention his heavy, fat balls that hung below it. He must have been pent up.

“Please,” you repeat, this time more desperately. Your hand reaches down shakily for his cock, breath speeding up as he doesn’t move to stop you. Your soft fingers wrap around him and he groans, bucking into your touch, “Shit,” you curse, “your cock is so fucking big.”

“Yeah?” He asks, and you can hear the subtle cocky smirk in his voice, “Bigger than whatever asshole you went on a date with, I bet.” And there it was, the admission of jealousy.

But you can only nod eagerly, fingers tracing the veins running along his length, “Yes,” you whimper as you angle his cock down towards your pussy, shivering and biting your lip as he takes himself in his own hand and slides the tip through your puffy, fat pussy lips, “Please, daddy?”

Holy shit.

Logan didn’t even know what came over him. One second he was grinding his cock through your slit, then you called him that, and now he was thrusting balls deep into your cunt. You practically screamed, crying out and clawing at his arms as his split you open, legs quivering around his hips as he thrust into you like a man possessed.

“Say it again,” Logan demanded, his voice hot against your ear as he reached down, grabbing you by the rolls of your stomach for leverage as he pounded your cunt, his heavy balls slapping against your ass.

“Daddy!” You cried out again, moaning through your sobs as hot tears streamed down your pudgy cheeks. You mewled as Logan leaned down to lick them up, his lips reconnecting with yours as the sound of your kissing and the couch thumping against the floor echoed around the both of you.

His forehead pressed against yours, the two of you looking into each others eyes as you struggled to keep yours on him, “Keep those eyes on daddy, baby,” he grunts, reaching around to lift your hips and fuck you back into his thrusts, causing you to fight the urge to throw your head back in pleasure.

“I-It’s too much, daddy!” You whimpered through your cries, sniffling and hiccuping as your body jerked up and down the couch. Logan shifted so he was sitting back against it, maneuvering you onto his lap and reaching down under your thighs so he was holding you before beginning to buck up into you. You squealed, hitting at his chest with your fists softly as you sobbed, the pounding too much for you to handle. His hand flew down once again to find your clit, thumb flicking roughly over it.

“You can take it, bub,” He reassures, watching as your face warps as your orgasm begins to wash over you. You begin to babble nonsense, and he wraps his arms around you and holds you close to his chest as he increases his speed, feeling your cunt flutter around his cock. It’s not long before you’re cumming all over his lap, crying out his name as you claw down his shoulders. He follows not far behind you, leaning in to bite down hard on your shoulder before releasing inside of you.

He pulls back, the both of you panting as you try to catch your breaths. You let out a tired giggle, resting your forehead against his shoulder, his hands running slowly up and down your back,

“And to think I was gonna break my sink again to get you to come over,” You slur tiredly against him, causing him to freeze. You broke your sink the first time on purpose? He sighs, shaking his head and holding back a soft chuckle,

“Brat.”

[barleyo]

BARELYYYYY write another daddy Leon fic, AND MY LIFE WILL BE YOURSSS

867-5309.

Real Dad! Leon Kennedy X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: this fic is shitty and short, sorry ^_^ i literally have no drive or desire to write anymore, idk what's going on with me. probably some type of brain worm! but i thought i should at least try to get something written :3 (ily whoever knows what song the title is referencing)

Tags: incest (daddy-daughter), phone sex, age gap (21 and 50-ish), mutual masturbation, no actual sex, idk dude i'm not sure what i was going for with this

Wordcount: 719

!!! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT/DARK CONTENT !!!

"Little note wasn't lying," Leon said into his phone, sitting in his car near the back of the bar's mostly empty parking lot. "What's this about a good time, doll?"

It was too late for him to be out like this. Too late for him to be this far from sober. Too late for him to be calling some random number that was stuck to the urinal partition. And, of course, it was much too late for him to be this horny.

"Depends," a voice, your voice, spoke on the line. "What kinda night is it, mister?"

Thank god he was drunk, or else he would've heard right through your overly sensual, fake tone. Thank god you were stupid, or else you would've known it was him right from the sleazy nicknames he used.

"Tonight?" 

Dirty fucking man. His hands were practically already in his pants. Roughly palming at himself over his tented jeans to the sound of some mystery broad's voice. 

"It's a real good night, babydoll. I think you could make it better though." He pulled his zipper down, cock pulsating desperately. 

You giggled on the other line, absolutely drowning in the sudden flush of attention. That's why you slipped the damn sticky note with your burner's number into the men's room all those nights ago, hoping some horned up man old enough to be your dad would ring your line and validate you. Little did you know, that man would truly be your dad. 

"Sounds like you could use it. I don't mind 'chatting' for a bit," you said, hand finding its way all over your body. "Tell me, y'touching yourself already?"

"To a voice like yours? Of course I am."

Leon freed himself from the confines of his pants, eyes shifting anxiously as he looked around the sparse parking lot. He was a grown man, he'd jerked off to hotlines and voices on the phone all the time. In public, though? New territory completely. 

He squeezed his shaft, feeling it pulse in his hand. Thing had a heartbeat of its own at that point as it practically begging to catch some friction and relief. 

"Glad you called," you said, sliding your panties off while you spoke. You tossed them in the corner of your room mindlessly. "I've been waiting for someone to find that little note."

Leon opened his mouth to respond when he heard a soft moan escape your mouth. That was enough for him to start. He wanted to take it slow, to enjoy himself, but who was he kidding? He was a needy fucker and he wanted to cum ASAP. 

"What'cha doing right now?" he was finally able to ask, swallowing thickly as he pumped his length. "Using those cute fingers, doll?"

You hummed through an over exaggerated moan, dramatizing and putting on a show for your 'mystery man.' 

"Sure am," you said, finger curled, reaching your g-spot the best you could with the limited length it had. "But it's not as good as the real thing."

He could practically hear the pout in your voice, and it drove him crazy. You sounded like a bratty little baby, just his type. 

"Awh, aren't you a poor thing? Bet some older cock would do you good, huh?" 

He heard the squelch of your cunt through the phone speaker. It picked up the sound of your palm hitting your clit, and the little gasps of air you let out each time you slammed your fingers in.

"Guess so." You bit your bottom lip, holding back an excited squeal at his words. "You offering?" 

Leon chuckled dryly, watching the tip of his cock weep with pre as he stroked himself. "Oh, someone's eager. Sure," he said, amused smirk on his face as he started to near his climax, hand still working furiously over his cock. "I'm offering. I could use a cute thing like you, anyway. It'll be much better than just hearing ya through the phone."

"We'll see about that," you teased, phone clicking off of the line just as he started to cum. 

(XXX)-867-5309: *sent location* 

(XXX)-867-5309: pull up ;)

Wait, that address? That was his house...

"Fuck."

Leon's head fell back on the car seat headrest, brain going a mile a minute. Hand still covered in stray spurts of cum.

"Fuck!"

[luniarix]

*⁀➷ 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙤 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜

sypnosis: basically in which toji and you are having sex for the first time after a 3 year long distance relationship <3

NOTE: WHY DID I TAKE HALF A YEAR TO FINISH THIS BRU. feeling like cory rn LMAAOOO— no but frfr school has been in the way and some personal problems have made it hard to write but im getting back on track i promise. i tried to make this longer than i originally wanted! more fics are otw i defff have plenty of ideas while i've been gone.

CW: fem!reader, virgin!reader, chubby reader!!, possessive!toji, domestic!toji, shy!y/n, whipped!toji, whipped!reader, age gap, established relationship, mentions of sexting, dry humping, unprotected!sex(wrap it before u tap it), mating press, marking, scratching, slight hair pulling, dirty talk, handjob if u squint, fingering, cunnilingus, after care, toji bein an absolute sweetheart cause i’m a sucker for affection, vv domestic moments bc im a romantic at heart, pet names such as; baby, sweetheart, mama(s), etc

majority of people say that long distance relationships were bound to fall apart one day.

not yours and toji’s tho!! of course not, even with all the stigma surrounding online relationships and with the added on fact that it’s “taboo” for toji to be years older than you, didn’t mean you two wouldn’t work out. duhh, you guys are safe from all that.

and so here you were, sat nervously on his couch in his house waiting for him to finish coming back from the convenience store. you guys had decided on your first ever actual date to be a more domestic one— so a movie night with snacks was the go to move. the click of the front door opening has you springing up and walking over to toji who has multiple bags with all kinds of treats.

“give me some. let me help you, kay?”

you mutter, taking a few bags from him before he could protest and setting them down onto the kitchen table. you go into the cabinets to pull out a few big bowls, and start pouring the food into them. all while you were doing this, toji unexpectedly comes up behind you and wraps his strong arms around your waist.

“have i told you how pretty you look baby?”

he presses a few kisses to your neck as he rubs circles on your soft hips, and you turn away from him to hide the way you’re becoming flustered.

“you’ve only been saying it since you’ve picked me up at the airport.”

toji spins you around to face him, and you begin biting your lip at the way he’s eyeing you down. good lord he was so sexy. but looking at him for too long would put you into cardiac arrest with how his green eyes pierced through your own. damn, since when did it get so hot in here?

“i’ll keep on saying it sweetheart, cause i like the way you squirm underneath my gaze.”

you swallow and give a shy giggle in return. you were so glad that toji was your first ever real long term relationship, because him being your first everything? the idea always had you squealing like a middle school girl. but your train of thought had dissipated when toji begun to gently squeeze your ass.

“toji… i- i needa set the bowls down onto the living room table.”

oh wow, now you’re stuttering? you felt a bit embarrassed considering how assertive you were between your texts and calls. yet here you were, getting shy at every gesture he made. obviously during your relationship you two had always been lovey dovey, but you never actually believed that toji himself was clingy. you aren’t complaining tho!! you adored that he was like this with you.

“that can wait, just let me kiss for a bit.”

and who were you to say no to his request? with the way he was holding onto your waist as he pulled you into a sweet kiss was when you knew this was worth waiting for. the soft sounds of your lips parting and connecting once more had your head spinning— your knees becoming weaker from every caress he gave.

“you taste so good mama.”

the signature nickname he gave you since the start of your relationship slips out, and you moan in satisfaction. you grip onto his black wife beater shirt, then smooth your hands up to grab onto his shoulders, jabbing your nails into his skin from how jittery you were getting. he softly bit your bottom lip, and that made you part your lips enough for him to slip his tongue in.

your vision grows hazy and your eyes close shut before pulling away in a gasping manner. toji gazes at you in desire as you begin to act like that didn’t phase you— when in fact you were trying your best not to start jumping around and doing jumping jacks. good god, you really did win the lottery with him. you push your hair back from your face and grab the bowls before walking right past him and setting them down on the living room table.

toji follows right behind you, pulling you back into him as he sits down on the couch. you squeal as you fall right into his lap, chest right against his. you flutter your lashes at him as he licks his lips and leisurely glides his hand down from your neck all the way down to your ass once again. it made your body twitch in delight, and you grind against his crotch in response to his tease.

“oh? ‘you finally gonna stop bein’ shy with me mama?”

toji rubs his hand up towards your waist and pinches your hip dip. you have your own hands massaging his shoulders as you begin to mutter in embarrassment,

“you keep trying to provoke me, asshole.”

toji gives you a sly grin before you impulsively decide to pull him in by the straps of his wife beater shirt, kissing him once again. you gasp desperately and he soon had his tongue dancing with yours. you nibble on his bottom lip and pull back just a little to tease him, which has his eyes widening in shock. your confidence boosts at that reaction and you begin to go down to his jaw, peppering soft kisses towards his neck and that’s when you begin to suck.

you give wet kisses to his adams apple and switch from sucking on his skin to kissing over the markings that began to fold. you do the same all over his neck and you then trail down to his collar bones. you moan in surprise when you could start to feel toji’s boner pressing against you through his sweats. wearing biker shorts wasn’t helping either because you could clearly feel the imprint.

you whine and grind against him, trying to create more friction as your arousal begins to stain your panties and possibly through your shorts. toji groans and grips onto your hips, both of you moving in a messy rhythm. your thighs began to tremble as your clit became more and more sensitive with each reaching second. soon enough you’d orgasm, all while being clothed.

this idea makes toji stop grinding against you, gripping onto your hips to stop you. you’re dazed out expression contorts into a frustrated one as you pout. why wasn’t he letting you orgasm? you knew toji was the type of man to put your pleasure over his own and yet he was stopping you from reaching your high.

toji only chuckles and brushes a thumb over your soft lips, nudging his finger in a bit to coat a bit of saliva on it. meanwhile, he’s rubbing your hips and thighs.

“i know you’re frustrated baby, but it’s our first time together, and you deserve to orgasm in a much better way than just dry humping.”

your lashes flutter against your skin as you melt against his touch. gosh, he was always thinking about you first and you loved it so much. you were so entranced that you could only nod in response, a dreamy expression on your face. after all, this was the first out of many that you guys could get intimate with each other face to face. toji smiles lazily, admiring how beautiful his baby looked. he’s then quick to take off your shirt and helps you slip off your shorts, only leaving you in your undergarments.

he squeezes at your pudge, loving how soft you were— grinning at how you twitched and tried to hold in your giggles. he loved every part of your body, and he was going to make sure to cherish all of you. you deserved to be loved right. toji leans forward to rest his head against your tits, reaching his hands behind your back to smoothly unhook your bra. you gasp in surprise as the straps begin to slip off your shoulders.

he pulls back to have your bra fall off, pretty tits now being exposed to him. toji sucks in a sharp breath as he internally groans at how big your tits were, bringing his hands up to cup them. you softly moan and your already perked nipples hardened even more. he fans his breath against one, and gently pulls on the other. your soft sighs is what brings him to hurriedly put his lips around your nipple, licking and kissing the bud.

you sharply inhale and squeeze his shoulders. you felt like a mess, because you couldn’t think straight and the only thing your mind could focus on was the way toji’s boner was right against you and neither of you were fully naked yet. you just wanted him to fuck you so good— to make up for all the years you two missed out on each other’s bodies.

toji kisses the nipple he was teasing his fingers with, and then begins to suck on it as he then swirls his tongue around your areola. you bite your lip and shutter in satisfaction, as you feel him begin to toy with your other nipple. toji makes sure to leave marks all over your chest before actually gently laying you on the couch, and taking his own shirt off. you’ve seen it all the time through pictures and videos when he would be sending you gym videos, or when you would facetime when he would be at the gym or when it was late at night, but it still came as a surprise to you on how well sculpted he was.

“ya like what ya see baby?”

he’s grinning at you, and you realize that you’ve been staring at him for too long. you roll your eyes and smile back at him. there wasn’t any point in denying at how in awe you were with how sexy your man was.

“i do. you look so handsome.”

toji’s eyes become hooded, pools of emerald green darkening at your compliment. he licks his lips before pulling at your panties, ripping them in the process of quickly having them be thrown somewhere on the floor. wow, he must’ve really liked that comment.

you prop your elbows up against the couch and watch with wide-blown eyes as he pulls down his sweats and boxers, also discarding the clothing somewhere on the floor. his cock was— big and oh so girthy. you were definitely turning into puddy by the next morning.

you gasp when he pushes your legs apart and he’s sloppily pumping himself as his gaze latches onto yours, and blood rushes to your face from how self-aware you were. he was jacking himself off to you right in front of you. and dirty enough, you liked it. you liked having him look so desperate right above you, as he gets himself prepared to fuck you.

god, was that whole length seriously going to go inside you? toji would always speak about how big he was in a cocky tone and when you saw it on camera for the first time, you knew not to doubt him. but seeing it in actuality made it sink in on just how big he really was.

your breaths get heavier the more his pre dripped onto your lower abdomen, and as he was beginning to groan more. you were quick to put a hand around the top of his length, teasing his tip. toji’s body jolts for a second before he’s quick to relax once again and his pace becomes faster.

you draw circles around his tip, making sure to gently squeeze him every few seconds. you could tell how bad toji wanted to cum with the way he started to buck his hips and the lewd squelching noises got sloppier.

“fuck, i can’t take this any longer.”

toji abruptly pulls away from you, backing up to then grab your thigh and slide his hands up to your knees, lifting your legs off the couch to have you be folded against him, legs now hooked over his shoulders. your eyes widen when his nose is pressing against your pubic area, and he’s looking up at you with devilish eyes.

“been waiting to do this for a while..”

he murmurs, licking his lips feverishly. he’s quick to press his mouth right against your cunt, giving leisure licks to your clit. you cry out in surprise, thighs quickly beginning to tremble. you try to silence your moans by biting your lip and having a hand cover your mouth. but toji looks up at you and furrows his brows.

he pulls you closer and pushes your hips upward, your ass slightly lifting off the couch cushion as he gropes your asscheeks. he’s eating you faster, tongue swirling against your clit and then feverishly leaving sloppy kisses— and repeat. your eyes roll back as your body jolts in utter pleasure.

you try to push his head back from how flustered you were— but instead, your fingers tangle themselves into his hair as you pull on it, tears prickling at the brims of your eyelids. you mewl pathetically, trying to move your hips in a rhythmic pace against his tongue. you could feel the knot in your stomach beginning to form.

“oh god! toji! m’gonna— gonna cum!”

you shriek, thighs closing around his head as your body shakes in such a way that has toji holding onto your hips to steady you a bit. you try to hide your moans with your hands again but he’s quick to grab your wrist with his free hand and pin it down to the bed.

when he feels like you’re wet enough, he slowly inserts one thick finger into your twitching hole. your pupils dilate and your mouth turns into an “o” as you desperately gasp for air. his relentless pace becomes too much to bare when he’s inserting another finger, and you squeal with pleasure. your own fingers couldn’t compare to how good his own were stretching you, working you to a release.

his mouth goes back down again, gently sucking on your clit, as his fingers roughly fucked you. your eyes are practically crossing and toji could almost see stars swirling in your pupils as you succumbed to the immense feeling that was beginning to build up. you were whispering his name, chanting it over and over again like a prayer and it made him want to reach down to his cock and pump himself to your moans.

“oh! oh, tojiii! please! please let me—”

a sly grin forms on his swollen lips, and he curls his fingers at that spot that has you almost screaming, back arching off the couch as you grip onto his hair for dear life, pulling on it as your body quivers in delight. he was so good at this you feared that you’d end up closing your thighs around his head without thinking and suffocate him on accident.

and when he gently takes your clit in between his lips and sucks all while hitting that sweet spot inside, you come undone. toji could barely hear the "m'cumming!" you squealed out before you're creaming against his face, juices flowing down to his chin as he laps up your overstimulated cunt, moaning in satisfaction at how addicting your taste was.

"god you taste so fuckin' good, sweetheart."

you whine in response, hardly registering what he said over the loud drumming of your heartbeat, a dazed expression painting your face which made toji chuckle. but he didn't want you to get tired just yet. and so, he's quick to swipe his tongue over his lips, fingers taking the dripping cum on his chin into his mouth all while looking directly into your eyes. he's then towering over you once more, green eyes shining once more through the illuminated moonlight peaking through the curtains of his home, streaks of dark raven hair being outlined by said light.

"I love you, to'."

the words slip out so easily, so naturally, that it almost surprised you. but it didn't, not as much as the faint sharp inhale you heard from the man above you. it wasn't that you guys hadn't really used the words between you two, but more so it felt more real, more raw, now that you could actually say it to each other face to face. not that it hadn't already meant a lot during the time that you were long-distance but cmon, who couldn't say that this was so much better?

he lines himself up against your folds, bending down to kiss you on the lips. he didn't say anything. but he didn't need to, not with the way he brought his free hand up to intertwine with yours, giving an affectionate squeeze. and certainly not with the way he had begun peppering kisses all over your face, from your forehead down to your chin. rather than saying it back, he's showing you. showing you that this? this was going to be you two from now on.

"you ready, baby?"

after seeing his dick for the first time? since forever.

but you only smile against his lips, nodding in response. he nuzzles your noses together, tip slowly pushing into you. you moan, back slightly arching off the couch once again. toji then gently puts your legs over his shoulders anew as he finally wedges the tip inside, stopping every now and then so you can begin to stretch out and accommodate his girth and length without much struggle.

"oh fuck, you're so fuckin' tight."

toji moans as he bucks against you slightly, pushing another inch further in. you throw your head back against the soft cushions behind your head and gasp. he was so big, you already felt so full. he inches in slowly, and you could feel yourself loosening up more and more. your thighs are visibly trembling, and you could feel every trace of his vein that trails down his entire length. at one point, you felt like you could feel him in your stomach. toji finally goes in to the hilt, and your mind went blank.

it felt like forever for him to fully stuff himself into your pussy but when he had, you could feel his tip kiss your cervix and your body was tingling all over, tears forming at the brims of your eyelids as a reaction of pleasure. your bodies were finally connected and you were thrilled, so much so that you began squeezing around him—tighter.

"shit baby, you're sucking me in."

toji whispers huskily, thick black bangs of hair stuck onto his forehead from sweat as his beefy arms are caging your head. you moan in response, wrapping your arms around his neck and fingernails pressing on his back, scratching him. he grunts, lifting up to position himself to squat on top of you. oh my god, toji had put you in mating press.

his hips move back and slam back into you and you force down a scream when you feel him go so deep. your tits circle as you shake in desperation, and your cunt spasms at the feeling of the way his cock twitches. toji laughs, voice so deep and raspy that it made you wetter than you already were. he was amused at your reaction.

but you were getting impatient. finally getting used to his size meant that he didn’t have to hold back, and you didn’t want him to. you wanted him to have you not feeling your legs by tomorrow morning, and screaming until the entire neighborhood knew his name.

“please to’… want you to fuck me hard.”

being so close to him meant that you could not only see his reactions, but feel them too. so when he shudders from your words, it has you whining. his hips slowly begin to move, and your hands squeeze his shoulders in utter delight as you repeatedly gasp with each soft thrust.

and when he grabs your disheveled hair to tilt your head back, aligns his lip right against your ear? it has you quivering around his cock as he whispers to you,

"y’want me to fuck ya until you’re cumming all over my cock hm? want me to fuck ya ‘till you’re seeing nothin but stars?”

your toes curl as you tighten around him, the delicious feeling has him sighing in ecstasy. you then nod frantically, raking your nails against his biceps. you couldn’t even give him any other response besides a pitiful whimper. toji chuckles darkly, before fixing his positioning on top of you.

he pulls out just enough so only the tip and an inch or so are wedged in, and then snaps his hips back into you with full force as you jolt while screaming out his name. and then he starts fucking into you, almost at a feral pace. you grip onto his shoulders like your life depended on it, jaw slacked and the most erotic moans spewing out of your glossed lips.

“oh- oh my god! toji! please! ffucckk!”

you never knew you could moan so loudly, and god was it embarrassing. not in the shameful way, but more so… the fact that you couldn’t ever imagine yourself moaning like this until toji made it possible. your thought process is shortly cut off when toji begins to groan— and, was that a whine that you just heard?

you feel his hand trail down to your twitching clit, and your lips form an “o” shape as he begins to ever so softly pinch it. you wail as you frantically claw at his back, bright red scratch marks appearing that were sure to last for a while. toji grunts, he wouldn’t admit it just yet but the pain from your nails mixed with the sheer pleasure your pussy was bringing him was making his balls swell much faster than he expected.

and the way your tight gummy walls were sucking his fat cock in— it was like you were begging to be filled up with his thick cum. but maybe that was just him speaking for himself. the idea of cumming in you was enticing; one that consumes his sexual desires. but not just yet. toji looks down to see a white ring begin to form at the base of his dick, and he licks his lips as he glances back up at you.

you looked so pretty, fucked out on his cock like this. your tits were jiggling in rhythm with his animalistic thrusts, and your nipples were rubbing against his chest. and he was even more enamored with the sound his balls slapping against your ass were making. fuck, he was bound to cum soon. but you looked like you were on the brink of shattering more so than he was.

that specific feeling of your stomach clenching and your body tensing up has you knowing that you were going to reach your release any minute. and so when toji begins to messily rub his fingers against your clit to overstimulate you all while he’s rutting into you with one goal in mind— you break.

your thighs are quaking against his body, as your cunt gushes out milky white cum, coating toji’s cock and his inner thighs. you whine when toji pulls out and releases on your stomach and tits, feeling empty without him inside anymore. with your eyes rolled back, lights swirling behind your eyelids as you were trying to form coherent thoughts, with you trying to control your ragged breathing; you almost didn’t register toji’s “you okay mamas?”.

you look at him through half-lidded eyes, and exhale out a velvet “mhm”, a lazy smile spreading across your lips to reassure him even more. he laughs softly and then slowly pulls back from you to have your legs lay on his sides, as he begins to slowly and gently massage from your thighs down to your ankles. you moan with relief as you hadn’t even taken notice to the slight pain within some parts of your legs that toji was rubbing on.

“you did so well baby.”

he mumbles, bringing one leg up to kiss from your calf to your ankle, then the other. you practically melt from his touches— he was so good at making you feel loved in all kinds of ways and it made you go crazy.

“thank you for this amazing first time experience, to’.”

you reach for his free hand, pulling him down so you can give him sweet kisses on his lips and cheeks. he kisses you back, squeezing your hand affectionately. you both pull away and you slowly sit up, leaning against him for support.

“only the best for you, sweetheart. i’ll be right back with a wash cloth for ya, ‘kay?”

you nod and watch as he gets up and goes back into the bathroom across the room to get a wash cloth, and he comes back in a few seconds. you sigh at the feeling of the warmth of the water on the cloth, and toji cleans the sticky mess he left before going down to in between your thighs to clean, then the couch. he jogs back into the bathroom to leave the cloth and wash his hands, and maybe his dick, and comes back to you once more.

he sits next to you and brings an arm around you, rubbing your shoulder with his hand. he then tosses a blanket that was laying on the side over you two— and you realized how bad you’ve always wanted this. gosh, you couldn’t wait for more moments like this.

and then you look in front of you, and you remember what you two were actually meant to be doing.

“baby, what about the movie we were supposed to be watching?”

toji’s eyes widen, almost like that never crossed his mind, and you can’t help but giggle at how fast he grabs the remote to put on Netflix and swipe through movies you two could watch.

“we still can mama, jus’ don’t fall asleep on me.”

“you’ve already tired me out, so no promises.”

you grin at the way he playfully rolls his eyes and gives you a cheeky laugh. so when he pulls you in to peck your forehead, and for just the sake of being closer?

you know that this is where you were meant to be.

P.S: wow!! this was so much fun from start to finish. writers block is a real pain in the ass but more is to come, at a less-half year disappearance-rate LMAO. def going to write more abt this trope, i loved it sm.

feel free to leave ideas in my inbox or a comment ♡ if i made any grammar mistakes that i missed, lmk！and thank u so much for reading (●´ω｀●)

[mariclerc]

Iclawnic couple | cl16

Summary: your dream of dressing up as a Monster High character with your bestie comes true.

Warnings: none. mixed feelings and a bunch of fluff.

a/n: I've had this idea for a while, I hope you like it!! let me know if you want another part!

You and Charles have been best friends for as long as you can remember, you've been there for each other through thick and thin and you've gone to every event possible with him. And even his exes felt quite jealous that you were his friend, and you don't blame them, since between you and him there is a certain closeness and chemistry that everyone notices... Everyone except you two, of course.

So now you find yourself getting ready to go to a costume party with Charles wearing complementary Frankie Stein and Jackson Jekyll costumes, you are very excited because you have always wanted to dress up as a Monster High character and he has always loved the idea, so here you are... Frantically searching for the monster boots you had bought specifically for that costume.

“Charles! Have you seen my boots? You know, the monster ones! The ones with the big ass platform.” you say a little panicked, since you can't find your boots.

Charles, dressed in his Jackson Jekyll costume, but with a mischievous glint in his eyes, emerges from the living room to the bedroom.

“Oh my god, Frankie Stein please, calm down. We have all night, and I'm pretty sure those boots are eating their way out of the closet.” he says with a smirk on his face.

You glare at him playfully. “Haha, very funny. You know how important this is to me, this is my childhood dream!” you say and you stomp your foot, a cute and exaggerated gesture.

Charles chuckled. “I know, I know, my little monster. You're going to be the scariest Frankie Stein ever.” he walks over to you and helps you search for the boots, they were hiding behind a big box.

“You're the best!” you say softly.

There's a brief moment of silence, a charged atmosphere.

Then, Charles breaks the silence. “So, ready to scare some people tonight, eh?” he smiles as he look at you finishing getting ready.

“Oh, you bet! Especially those stupid costumes people come up with.” you say while grinning, you finish fixing some details of your costume.

He whistle. “Damn girl, you're going to kill everyone tonight!” he grins. “Although it doesn't matter if you go and eat their brains.”

You look at him, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “Oh, shut up you dumbass.” you say trying to play it cool.

You two laugh and leave the apartment to go to the party and see what the night has in store for you.

***

A crowded, noisy room filled with people in costumes, the music is blasting through the walls. You and Charles, in your costumes, are surrounded by a sea of people.

“You look so amazing!” he whispers in your ear.

Your heart skips a beat, you try to hide your blush. “Thank you charlie! You don't look too bad yourself, Jackson.” you say whispering back.

You two laugh while you approach a group of people in which there were several of the drivers and their girlfriends.

“Whoa guys, you two look so sick! Definitely the best costume of the night!” says Daniel raising his glass.

Logan's girlfriend nods. “Yeah, you two nailed it!” she says and you smile at her. “I like your Frankie costume, it looks so freaking good!”

Charles puts his hand on your waist, instinctively, as if his hand belonged there.

You smiled again. “Thanks! We've been planning this for ages!” you giggled. “It was like a dream for us.”

You feel a rush of emotions... His touch, the compliments, the attention. It's overwhelming, but in a good way.

“Yeah, it’s been a long time coming.” he says grinning.

You glance at him, your eyes meeting his. There's a silent understanding between you two, a connection that’s always been there but feels much stronger now.

Lewis speaks up. “Seriously, you two look good together.” he says and your cheeks flush again. Charles squeezes your waist gently.

“We’ve known each other forever.” says Charles smiling while you nod, unable to form words.

The conversation continues, but your mind is racing. You can’t stop thinking about the way Charles is looking at you, the way his hand feels on your waist.

The night wears on, filled with laughter, dancing, and more compliments. Every touch, every glance between you two is electric and, somehow, it feels right.

Suddenly, you start to feel a little bit overwhelmed by the amount of people dancing around you, you carefully signal to Charles, he was having a drink but was a little distracted.

“Charlie! I feel like I can't breathe!” you say while you fan yourself with your hands, your eyes wide with a mixture of excitement and overwhelm.

He smiles softly. “It's okay princess, we better go to a quieter place, okay?” he says and you nod.

He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch your arm. You shiver slightly at his touch and you started walking through the sea of people until you reached a quieter place... That is, the kitchen.

A beat of silence passes between you. Charles’s eyes hold yours, a deep intensity in his gaze as you get to the desolated kitchen.

“It's just... It was a lot of people and I was getting so anxious.” you say softly as you get a glass of water. “And, well, you look... really good tonight.” you say in a whisper.

Charles smiled. “You look incredible too.” he says softly.

His hand slides down your arm to your hand, intertwining your fingers, you feel a surge of electricity between you two.

“I've wanted to be Frankie Stein since I was a kid.” you say smiling while you look down at your costume, a comforting familiarity washing over you.

He chuckled. “I know honey, and you're perfect.” he pulls you closer, until you’re almost touching, the scent of his cologne fills your senses.

“Thank you Charlie.” you say in a whisper.

Your heart pounds in your chest, you can feel the warmth of his breath on your face.

He takes a deep breath. “I’ve known you for what feels like forever, we’ve been through everything together... And I’ve always been there for you, haven’t I?” he says seriously.

You nod, your eyes locked on his.

“But there’s something more I want to be for you... Something more I want to give you.” his voice is low, filled with a vulnerability you’ve never heard before.

“What is it, Charles?” you ask him softly with a trembling voice.

“I’ve cared about you for as long as I can remember, but it’s more than that now. It’s something... bigger growing inside of me.” he says while looking you straight in the eyes, his hand moves to cup your face, his thumb gently brushing your lower lip.

You swallow hard. “Charles...” you say in a soft whisper, you can feel your heart racing.

He leans closer. “I'm in love with you.” his breath is warm on your lips. You close your eyes, feeling a mix of fear and exhilaration.

Slowly, you lean in and press your lips to his in a soft, gentle kiss. It’s a brief moment, but it feels like forever, as if it was destined to be this way for a very long time.

You pull away slightly, looking into his green eyes. He smiles, a mixture of relief and joy on his face.

“I love you too.” you say in a whisper while smiling and he smiled again, showing off his dimples.

***

Now you returned to Charles' apartment, you stand in front of the bathroom mirror, the harsh fluorescent light revealing the remnants of your Frankie makeup. A small, tired smile plays on your lips as you gently remove the false eyelashes.

“I can't believe we actually pulled that off.” you say muttering to yourself, you glance at your reflection, the Frankie Stein look slowly fading and a sense of peace washes over you.

Charles emerges from the bedroom, a lazy smile on his face, he holds one of his t-shirts and places it on the sink. “You look beautiful, even without the monster stuff.”

You blush, turning to face him. There’s a comfortable silence between you as you continue to remove your makeup.

“Well, you don't look too bad yourself, Jackson.” you giggle.

He laughs, a husky deep sound. “Oh, You don't know how grateful I am that you're here.”

He wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. The warmth of his body against yours sends a shiver down your spine.

You turned to face him. “Me too, it feels... Right, being with you.” you look into his eyes, your heart pounding. There’s an undeniable connection between you two.

Charles leans in, his breath warm on your skin. You close your eyes, anticipating his kiss.

Suddenly, a wave of self-consciousness washes over you. You're still in the costume, a little bit vulnerable and exposed, you pull away slightly.

You laughed nervously. “I should probably... get changed.” you turn back to the mirror, your cheeks flushed.

Charles smiles. “Oh, of course, princess, just let me close my eyes.” he said and covered his eyes, you giggled as you took off your costume and put on the shirt he had left in the sink.

“Now you can open your eyes dummy.” you say giggling. “Oh god, you're such a dork... but a cute one.”

Suddenly you start to feel a little tired and sleepy, the exhaustion of the day begins to take its toll on you, Charles notices this and carries you in his arms.

“Hey, put me down, silly!” you say to him, he laughs.

“Never baby!” he starts walking towards the room.

He lays you down on his bed and you lie in his big arms, your head resting on his chest.

“God, I’m so tired.” you say, letting out a yawn. “Wearing those boots was painful, I looked cute, but my feet hurt.”

“Well, you did have a pretty long day chérie.” he says while smirking. “And those boots looked painful, honey, I'm not going to lie to you.” he giggled (darling)

He kisses the top of your head and you giggled.

“Yeah, but it was worth it.” you smile sleepily while you snuggle closer to him, feeling safe and content.

“The prettiest Frankie Stein I've ever seen.” he whispers.

“And you are the most athletic and silliest Jackson I have ever seen.” you say while and you both laugh softly.

“Oh, my little monster.” he says while he tickles your side.

“Charles, please! Stop it!” you laugh breathlessly.

He continues to tickle you until you're giggling uncontrollably. “Alright, alright baby. I’ll stop.” He says huffing with a smile on his face.

He pulls you closer, holding you tightly. You close your eyes, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you.

“Oh, I love you, Charlie!” you say sleepily.

“I love you too, y/n.” he says while smiling. “My pretty girl.”

You fall silent, your breathing becomes slow. Charles strokes your hair gently, his touch soothing and comforting.

A few minutes later, you feel him shift. He carefully moves you to the pillow, tucking you in.

“Sleep well, my little monster.” he whispers.

“Sweet dreams Jackson.” you muttered.

You drift off to sleep, the sound of Charles' heartbeat a comforting rhythm in your ears, giving you calm by sleeping next to him, something you had done before at sleepovers, but now it has a much stronger meaning. All of this was meant to happen, it's like it was written somewhere, but it doesn't bother you at all.

[freelancearsonist]

Whole

Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

Rated MA for the most long-winded poetic smut i've ever written jfc 🤦‍♀️ slow burn fluff with a couple sprinkles of angst for flavor, reader uses fem pronouns and is described as having female parts, it's dirty y'all but at least they use protection

7,470 Words

A/N: you all know my mo by now i disappear for a year and then come back and lay down some god damned PORN. this fic is no exception to the rule. @shakespeareanwannabe requested this back in july and she literally just asked for a cute moment between steve and dustin, sorry you got 6k words more than you bargained for 😂 but also thank you for betaing and the constant validation you're the best ily 🖤

Steve’s not sure how it even worked.

He can still remember the look on Robin’s face when you agreed, how she was speechless for almost ten minutes because she couldn’t process what had just happened.

Steve’s reaction was about the same as hers, in all honesty. He’s gotten so used to striking out that asking people out has become something of a game to him. He knows he’ll get a no, and he knows Robin will laugh her ass off at him. But what can he say? He likes putting a smile on his best friend’s face.

Needless to say, you’ve shaken him. In the best possible way. Because your answer was three letters instead of two.

And now, he's a little bit in over his head.

Or, to be more accurate, a lot in over his head.

It seems like it’s been ages since he’s gone on a date, even though it’s only been a few months at most. He feels lost, like he’s completely unlearned everything he ever knew about girls.

He hates it, despises it with every fiber of his own being, but he also knows it’s true; he needs advice. And although he’ll never admit it to the little shithead’s face, there’s no one better he can think of going to than his very own protege. Who better to remind him of his own prowess than the person who learned everything they know from him?

One look at Dustin’s smug little face and Steve almost regrets it. Almost.

“Just can’t stay away, can you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes and gives the younger boy a little shove, camouflaging it with an affectionate pat on the back. “This is strictly business, Henderson.”

“Oh, is it now?” The younger boy’s voice takes on a smug tone as he folds his fingers together and leans back in his chair. “Well then, why don’t you have a seat? Step into my office.”

Steve rolls his eyes and slides into the booth, shooting a smile and a “thank you” to the kind waitress who delivers two milkshakes to their table.

Dustin takes his time and makes a meal of unwrapping his straw, feeding off of Steve’s clear impatience Steve’s fingers tap against the table, reminding himself that patience is necessary when you come to someone for a favor. It’s just that it’s Dustin, and Dustin knows exactly how to get under the older boy’s skin in the most annoying-yet-oddly-endearing fashion.

“So…” Dustin finally says after a lengthy sip of strawberry milkshake. “What brings you so humbly to me?”

“I’ve got a date.”

And Dustin, the little bastard–he laughs. A deep, rumbling belly laugh, so pure and unfiltered that the three other occupied tables in the diner pause their conversations to get a look at the boy clutching his sides.

Steve’s a little embarrassed by the attention, but even more embarrassed that Dustin’s reaction is so genuine. The fact that the idea of him having a date is so laughable is a bit of a punch to the gut. It hasn’t really been that long, has it?

When Dustin’s laughter finally dies down he realizes Steve’s face is completely serious, and it makes him giggle even more.

“Wait, you’re actually serious? Who on earth did you manage to pull?”

Steve’s nearly bashful as he says your name, and even more bashful when Dustin’s jaw visibly drops.

“No fucking way. I’d believe anyone else, but her? She’s like… hotter than Phoebe Cates. There’s no way you wouldn’t strike out with her.”

Steve’s immediately on the defensive. Is it really so hard to believe that he, former king of Hawkins High, could pull the most gorgeous girl in town?

But that’s just it. There’s really no one like you, not in his eyes. He’s admired you since freshman year and never once even tried with you because he knew he wasn’t worthy. You were always in the background–a beautiful, kind, smart, funny girl just out of his reach. Part of the reason he even asked you out was because he was so sure he would strike out. In the end, losing his confidence was exactly what he needed to pull the girl of his dreams.

And that’s why there’s so much riding on this. You’ve always been his biggest “what if”, the girl he wonders about when thinking that maybe not trying has been holding him back. And apparently, it has.

“Look, I don’t even know how it happened, okay? But she said yes, and… and I really don’t want to blow it.”

“Well duh. You’ll have to leave town if you blow it with her, you know that, right? If she doesn’t think you’re worth it, no one else in this town ever will again.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” Steve groans, slouching down so far in the booth that Dustin can just barely see his poor, overwhelmed face.

“Steve, listen…” Dustin’s voice takes on an almost fatherly quality, an omniscient tone that gives off the illusion of great hidden knowledge. He gets like this sometimes, and Steve’s not always sure that it is just an illusion. “Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re, like, one of the coolest guys I know. If she doesn’t like you… that’s her problem, not yours. Okay?”

Steve straightens in his seat, a little shocked to hear such kind words from a friend that he’s used to being mercilessly teased by.

“No, no, no, it’s going to your head. I take it all back. Forget I said anything.” Dustin’s hearty giggle makes Steve smile as he sets a wad of bills on the table and slides out of the booth.

“You’re not so bad Henderson, you know that?” He gives the younger boy’s full head of curls an affectionate ruffle. “Thanks, kid. I’ll radio later.”

Not that Steve didn’t have total faith in his young protege, but it’s still a relief that the pep talk turned out to be exactly what he needed to hear. Dustin’s right, after all. Steve’s worked hard to become the man he’s always wanted to be. He may not be dripping charisma or sex appeal the way he used to, but he’s much more comfortable in his own skin. That’s what counts, right?

And you really are his dream girl. The opportunity to take you out tonight, even if it ends up being your first and only date together, is an honor. He’s much less focused now on all the ways he could screw up, hyper-fixated on putting the effort in to make this the best night of your life.

That effort comes out in the carefully selected suit jacket he dons over his white button-up, the extra spritz of cologne, the careful touch-up shave to vanquish his five o’clock shadow, the extra ten minutes using the perfect amount of product in his hair so that it stays in place yet is still soft to the touch.

By the time he gets to Enzo’s (half an hour early, mind), he’s practically vibrating with nerves and anticipation. He’s never been much of an overthinker, but he sure is tonight. Is this place too much for the first date? Would you rather do something lowkey, like catch a movie or go for a walk in the park? He has to remind himself a couple of times that you agreed to this, that you wouldn’t have said yes if you weren’t interested in the arrangement.

To say he’s prepared for this is putting it lightly. He’s run through every possible scenario in his mind, gone over conversation starters and questions he wants to ask you over and over again until he knows exactly how he wants to phrase each thing.

And still, nothing could prepare him for when you walk through the door.

He has to physically restrain his jaw from dropping because in the moment he sees you, every well-planned thought and all etiquette is flushed down the proverbial pipes. You’re nothing short of breathtaking in a dress that hugs all the right curves and shows just enough cleavage to have him imagining what else there might be to see. Your hair is pinned back out of your face, eyes framed by just the slightest bit of makeup to make the color of your irises pop. He swears he’s never seen a shade quite like them. It’s like you move in slow motion as you approach him–he sees the entrance of the smoking hot love interest in every romantic comedy, complete with smoke and fireworks, as you move towards the table.

And then some sense of decorum returns to his addled brain, and he quickly shoots up so he can pull out your chair for you like a proper gentleman. He catches just the slightest whiff of your perfume, and he’s a goner. He’s ready to sign his life away to you, to yank his own heart out of his chest to offer to your careful hands.

He has to give his head a shake to compose himself before he goes any further off the deep end. No one’s ever thoroughly shaken him the way you have, and it’s been a matter of thirty seconds. It’s almost intimidating, the effect you have on him.

“You look… incredible,” he fumbles as he takes his seat across from you. “I mean, you always do, but… wow.”

The shy giggle you emit tugs at a heartstring he didn’t even know he had.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a genuine smile. “You clean up very well yourself.”

“I do like to put in some effort every once in a while.” He flashes the most charming smile he can muster, and just like that he’s back. His resolve to impress you is reinforced tenfold. You’ve shaken him, and it’s such an unfamiliar feeling that he’s practically bumbling. He wants to shake you just as badly.

The food’s delicious, and the conversation’s even better. He has a track record for taking out a more–for lack of a better term–bimbo-y type, and that’s definitely not you. You’re smart, you’re witty, but you don’t make him feel like an idiot. He’s so taken with you that he doesn’t even notice that three hours have passed until he looks around the room and notices that every table is now empty and bussed.

The waiter delivers the check, and Steve notices you gnawing on your lip.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, trying not to be too prying.

“I don’t want this to be over yet.”

Steve smiles. He’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. He’s never been so sure of anything, and that surprises him. He’s used to dates who are easy to read and even easier to take home, and those aren’t the impressions you’ve been giving him. To know that you’re feeling exactly what he’s feeling is a huge confidence boost.

“I don’t either.”

Your hand is so small compared to his. That’s all he can think about as he strolls next to you, his fingers intertwined with yours. He’s always considered hand-holding to be child’s play, it’s never excited him before the way it does in this moment with you.

It’s pitch black in the park and he can hear the overlapping chirping of summer cicadas and grasshoppers, the perfect background noise now that the conversation has died down. It’s less about getting to know each other at this point and more just basking in each other’s presence, prolonging the inevitable because neither one of you can bear to call it a night when it’s been such a good few hours.

You’re shocked, to say the very least. Steve certainly has a reputation, and it’s not for being a romantic. Yet everything tonight has flown in the face of all the rumors you’ve been hearing since junior high. You figured he’d be a fun fling, and probably only one night at that–you’d made your peace with the idea. To find that he’s kind, considerate, funny, and can match your intellect and quick wit… it’s a very pleasant surprise. And that’s what has you out well past a decent hour, giddy over simply holding his hand like you’re a damned school girl all over again.

“I should probably let you go home,” Steve sighs wistfully. He hates to be the one to bring it up, but you’re on your fifth lap around the park and about to circle back to where your car is parked so now seems the best time.

You’re chewing your lip again, a thoughtful habit that makes his heart pound just a little bit harder.

Here’s the thing: you’re really not the bold type. You act confident, sure, but in practice it’s a lot more difficult for you. So no one’s more surprised than you are when you say, “You could come home with me. If you want.”

Steve’s definitely shocked, too. Less shocked at your proposition and more at the fact that he’s tempted to decline. Because no matter how much he’s been running through the back of his mind what you might look like under that gorgeous dress, he doesn’t want this to end there. For the first time in his life, he wants to find more meaning than sex out of a relationship. He doesn’t want to take you home and never see you again. He wants to take you out again, and again, and again, and again after that. He sees a future, for once, that doesn’t look dim and hopeless. That fact alone scares the shit out of him.

He realizes he’s waited way too long to reply and fumbles for an answer. “Of course I want to. I’d be an idiot not to. But…”

You chew that cursed bottom lip of yours again, and Steve has to focus on the obvious cue you’re giving him rather than the fact that he wants to be the next set of teeth around that lip.

He stops in his tracks, gently pulling on your hand to face him so he can take your other hand in his free one. “It’s not a bad but. I mean, I’m going to go home kicking myself for saying no because I really honestly do want to… well, y’know. But… I want to do this right with you. I want to take you out again. I want to get to know you and see where this goes. I can’t… I don’t want this to end tonight.”

He’s eternally grateful for how dark it is as he feels a flush consume his face. He can’t remember a time he’s been so honest and open, especially on a first date; but the look on your face tells him he’s done something right.

“Okay,” you tell him, squeezing his hands in yours. “You… honestly have no clue how nice it is to hear that.”

“Of course,” he continues, “if you just want me for my body, no hard feelings.”

You laugh at that, genuinely laugh, and Steve thinks it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

“No,” you reassure him. “No, I… I wanna see where this goes, too.”

You’re stopped only a few paces from your car, and Steve knows with a twist of his gut that this is the end of the night. It makes his gut turn with disappointment, but also with anticipation of when he’ll see you next. Already, his mind is flooding with ideas of where he can take you and what you’ll do together.

You drop one of his hands so you can walk but keep a tight grip on the other until you get to your driver’s side door, hesitating outside because you’re still not ready for this to be over. It takes every ounce of restraint he has not to kiss you, unsure of if that would be moving too fast.

Thankfully, you make the call yourself. Leaning up on your toes, hands against his chest for balance, you press your lips against his and he has to summon every mite of strength not to moan. No one’s ever tasted so sweet, molded against him so perfectly. His hands drift from your shoulders down your arms, coming to rest on your waist as he pulls you just a little bit closer. It’s a fight of will not to overstep, to break off the kiss before it can become too heated. His mind is spinning by the time you break away. He’s aching for more, and he hopes you are too. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

Your sweet voice replays in his mind all night, long after you’ve gotten into your car and driven away, long after he’s returned to his own vehicle and pulled the radio out from under the driver’s seat to check in with Dustin, long after he arrives home and soaks in a cold shower for longer than he probably should. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get your voice out of his head, and he couldn’t be any less upset about it.

He practically counts down the minutes until he sees you again. This time, he has a little less restraint. He greets you with a kiss–a sweet peck and a hand on your waist that leaves you aching for even more.

It’s a movie this time, a chance to enjoy each other’s company on a night you’re both too tired from working to engage in heavy conversation and getting to know each other further.

It starts with sharing popcorn, then holding hands, then somewhere along the way the film is completely forgotten in favor of your lips meeting his. His breath grows heavy as his hands hold your face, committing you to memory while resisting the urge to explore further. Your hands, meanwhile, are firmly on his thighs, gripping tightly to keep yourself steady as you do everything you can to keep yourself from crawling into his lap.

He whispers your name, and your grip on him tightens.

“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, then gives up on the futile attempt at finishing his sentence so that he can pull you even deeper into the kiss as his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip.

It takes everything in him not to moan when your lips eagerly part to accept him.

Needless to say, once the credits start rolling you’re both more than a little hot under the collar.

“Let me buy you dinner,” Steve suggests as he woefully unwinds himself from you. Declining doesn’t even flicker through your mind as a possibility.

It’s not Enzo’s this time, but it doesn’t have to be. He could set a soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich in front of you at this point and you’d still thank him for it. This time around, you’re not really as interested in the cuisine as you are just simply getting through this meal to what’s next. Because what’s next is all you’ve been thinking about since you walked through the doors the night of that very first date and saw Steve Harrington wearing a blazer for you. It’s a level of effort he’s definitely not known for–in fact, he’s built a reputation for putting in so little effort that it nearly made your jaw drop to see him trying. And it certainly made your heart skip a beat.

But then again, the Steve before you carelessly wolfing down his bacon cheeseburger seems very different from the Steve you knew in high school, even if you didn’t know that iteration as intimately as this one. That one was cool, collected, snarky and pompous and maddeningly desirable.

This Steve, your Steve, is nearly an exact foil. Much less cocky, a little less confident but more self-assured in the ways that actually hold meaning, less worried about what the people around him are observing of him than what you’re observing of him. He seems happier, more carefree, more eager to please others than simply himself. He’s grown so much in such a short amount of time, and you feel proud just for having the honor to witness it. Significantly more proud to be on the receiving end of his affections now that they hold the kind of value you’ve always wished they would.

He looks up and notices you staring at him while lost in thought, a small smile spreading across his lips as your eyes quickly dart away.

“What’s on your mind?” He questions as he licks a stray bit of ketchup from his thumb.

“Just… happy I’m here. With you.” It brings heat to your cheeks to admit it, but you don’t want him to go unappreciated in this moment.

It’s the right thing to say, because his smile grows even wider. “I’m happy too,” he admits. “I… I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while. Could never work up the courage, I guess.”

“Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington was intimidated by me?” You say it with a mock gasp, but your shock is more genuine than you give off. Never in a million years would you have thought that he, the man who could have whoever he wanted, would be worried over you saying no to him. It’s almost comical, especially considering the way you practically threw yourself at him on your first date. Of course then, you had no clue how much he’d developed as a person. You’re almost ashamed of your behavior now, as if you might’ve inadvertently been taking advantage of the new and improved Steve who isn’t just into you for a hookup.

He shrugs, nearly bashful at your teasing. “Never figured I was good enough for you. So I didn’t bother to try.”

You’re genuinely curious now, leaning in a little closer and brushing your fingers against his hand resting atop the diner counter. “What made you change your mind?”

“Honestly? I was so sure you’d say no that I asked just to give Robin a chuckle. She loves watching me get shot down.”

That makes you frown, and he’s quick to backtrack. “I wanted to! I just… I’ve had a bad track record lately. And you’re… you’re you. You’re the last person I should be worthy of.”

His eyes are quick to avert from your gaze, bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he contemplates whether he’s said too much.

“Steve…” you properly grab his hand now in the hopes that it’ll bring his eyes back to you, and it works. “You’re the only person I’ve deemed worthy in a long time, honestly.”

Steve Harrington is scaldingly warm. It’s one of many sensations forcing your mind into overdrive as he lays you delicately across the backseat of his beemer, one hand cushioning the back of your head while simultaneously deepening the already heated kiss and the other balancing his weight to lean over you in the cramped space without completely crushing you.

Your fingers tangle themselves into his soft brown locks, tugging ever-so-slightly as his tongue slips between your parted lips. He’s an eager explorer and you’re more than happy to let him take the lead, to show you all the skill you’ve heard so many whispers about.

You let out an involuntary moan as he wedges himself even closer to you, his body heat soaking through all the layers of clothing between the two of you and warming you all the way to your very bones.

You’re practically aching, ready to beg, and he knows it the second you wrap your legs around his waist in an attempt to get him even closer. If there’s one thing Steve Harrington’s good at, it’s assessing your needs. He pulls away just the slightest bit to adjust his position so he can get closer, wedging a knee between your legs to press right against your core, and it makes you jolt back against the car door at the same time his head hits the roof just a bit too hard.

You both pause for a moment, the reality of your situation hitting you simultaneously, and then you’re laughing. It’s light and edged with unresolved want, but it’s enough to fracture the tension of the moment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Shouldn’t have gotten so carried away. This isn’t how I want to do this.”

“No?”

“No. You deserve way better than this old beater,” he chuckles, then leans down to kiss you. This kiss is lighter, no longer edged with tension and lust. He kisses you just to kiss you–there’s no end goal to it this time.

“What could be better than a BMW?” You tease lightly, trying to reassure him that you’re less disappointed than you really feel.

“You know. Something romantic. A proper bed, rose petals, maybe a few candles…”

“I don’t need all that,” you try to tell him.

“I think I do,” he admits. And that’s enough to pull you back, to remind you that you need to be patient and grateful that he values you so much as to want to do this whole thing properly. That his affection is something to be cherished, not taken for granted.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to be pushy.”

“Please don’t apologize.” He hesitates to untangle himself from you, even though he knows he needs to. “I want this just as bad. I just… I need it to be right.”

“As long as I have you, it’ll be right,” you reassure. “I hope you know that.”

He presses his lips to yours again, a slow and passionate kiss that he hopes communicates every bit of adoration he feels for you in this moment.

“It’ll be perfect. I swear,” he vows. You’ve never believed anything more whole-heartedly than you do this promise. 

~~~

“Wait, you’re telling me that you literally had her under you and you stopped?” Robin’s halfway through chewing a mouthful of popcorn and the absolute carnage inside her agape mouth makes Steve give her a light shove.

“It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full, y’know.”

“It’s not polite to blue-ball either!” She shoots back in utter disbelief.

“How do you think I felt? I was this close,” he holds his thumb and index finger barely millimeters apart, “to sealing the deal.”

She just shakes her head. “You, Steve Harrington, are a genuine, bonafide idiot.”

She’s not telling him anything he doesn’t know. It’s been three days since the aborted fling in the backseat of his car, and he’s barely thought of anything else. Especially since you’ve been away from home both of the past nights when he’s called. He’s starting to worry you’ve gotten the wrong impression, that he’s not interested or that he’s toying with you. It’s the exact opposite. He wants nothing more than to know you in the most intimate way he can know you. But he needs it to be flawless. He needs it to be well thought-out and precisely planned, the most romantic event in the history of copulation. He won’t settle for anything less, not with you. You deserve perfection, and he won’t give you anything less.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he tries to explain. “I want to more than anything. But if you’re gonna go to town on a goddess, you need to do some worshiping, y’know? I don’t feel like I’ve done enough.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear this admission. You weren’t sure what to expect–worried that maybe visiting him at work was an overstep–but hearing him call you a goddess certainly wasn’t on your radar.

“You’ve done more than enough, Steve.”

The sound of your voice makes Steve jump and whirl around, oblivious to Robin’s sly smirk and mumbled excuse of needing to attend to something in the back room.

“H-hey!” He squeaks, then clears his throat in an attempt to get his tone back to its normal octave. “What… what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, just came to pick up a tape,” you tease. “But mostly I came to see you.”

“Me?” He takes a moment to ground himself, loosening his too-tight grip on the counter. “I mean… I tried to call you last night. And the night before?”

Your brow furrows. “Really? I didn’t get your message.”

Because he didn’t leave one. He clears his throat and says, “I just figured you were busy.”

“Oh, well, I volunteer at the animal shelter on Wednesdays, and last night was my friend’s 21st birthday. I’m sorry I missed you, though.”

He can tell that you’re really remorseful, and it makes his heart squeeze in his chest a little bit. He plays it off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No, it’s fine, it’s… are you free tonight?”

You giggle at the abrupt redirect, but he’s played directly into your hand.

“Yeah, actually. I was hoping maybe you could help me pick out something for us to watch tonight? If you’re free too, that is.”

His dark eyes blink slowly, wondering if you’re aware of the implication behind your completely innocent words. You. Him. A movie. Alone. It’s enough to make his head spin. 

“I’ve never been freer.”

Conveniently, you’ve come in close enough to the end of his shift that by the time you’re done combing through Family Video’s vast selection for the perfect film to use as background noise, Steve’s ready to clock out. And since you walked over after finishing your own shift at the local dollar store up the street, it works out perfectly that he can give you a ride straight to his place.

You only glance in the backseat once, but it’s enough to get your mind churning. Remembering the feeling of him, of what could’ve been. Anticipating what will be.

“Parents home?” You ask as he pulls into his driveway and parks, trying to sound casual and utterly failing.

“Nope,” he answers easily. “Took a detour to Cabo on their way home from Hawaii.”

“Sounds glamorous. You opted out?”

“I’d rather be here in Hawkins with you than on a beach alone anyday.”

He must know the effect his words have on you. Surely he can hear the way your heart picks up pace as he looks at you with those dark, affectionate eyes.

“So… this is home.” He waves a hand around the entrance hall like it’s a shabby nightmare, not the grandest house you’ve ever been in.

“I’m starting to understand why they used to call you King Steve.”

He’s almost embarrassed at the mention of that old high school nickname. “Trust me, this isn’t why.”

“Well, a palace does befit you,” you tell him with a smirk.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush.” The wink he shoots you makes your gut erupt with butterflies, a sensation that would normally make you a little uncomfortable. With Steve, you’d take the butterflies all day long.

He gives you a cursory and oversimplified tour of the ground floor before leading you upstairs, and suddenly he’s sheepish. It’s been a few moons since he shared his room with a girl, so the nerves are justified. But that’s too simple an explanation. You’re not a girl. You’re his dream, his muse, his–to re-quote himself–goddess. No one he’s ever cared about more has stood where you’re standing, and it terrifies him.

He hides it well, though, busying himself with making a comfortable nest for you in his bed before setting up the television set on the dresser against the far wall. If ever there was a time to regain his confidence, it’s now. He curses whatever god there is that he feels like a fumbling virgin in this moment when nothing is even happening, when just the anticipation is enough to make his hands tremble.

There’s no more stalling once you’re comfortable and the tape is set to play. His heart pounds to the steady and frantic rhythm of one of those heavy rock songs Dustin listens to now as he sits next to you, hands itching to take a hold of you but also eager not to move too fast.

Almost as if you can sense his hesitation, you reach over and take his hand. “Steve?��

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

And so he does, and the second his lips slot to yours all the worry and anxiety is gone. He’s Steve Harrington, and he knows what he’s doing. You’re you, and he’s wanted this for so long. After years of being lost, he deserves to finally find the love he’s been looking for. He’s never been so sure of anything as he is, in this moment of initial clarity, that he’s in love with you.

He can’t say it, not yet. He’s sure it’s too soon, and the last thing he wants is to scare you off. But he’s determined to prove it to you, and the only way besides words is action.

He can handle action.

There’s no more restraint or hesitation behind his touch. This is it, this is what you’ve both been waiting for. There’s no way in hell he’s not going to deliver now. He’s desperate for you, and it shows in the heavy way his hands drag along your curves whilst committing you to memory; the way his tongue languidly swipes across your bottom lip; the way he shifts effortlessly to hover over you even while deepening the kiss.

He’s overwhelming every single sense of yours in such a sudden fashion, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Especially not when his hips meet yours in a deliciously slow grind and you finally get your first little taste of what’s to come.

He keens at the little breathless whimpers that leave your mouth, reading every single signal you provide him with and accommodating each. Moaning? He continues what he’s doing, intensifying if deemed necessary. Whining? He adds something, because he knows it’s hard to use your words when you’re wanting so badly. Squirming? He pays attention to the direction of your movement and pulls away or presses closer depending on necessity. It’s down to science for him; he only really cared about extracurriculars in school anyway, and this was certainly his favorite.

But then he comes to his senses–while he doesn’t pull away completely, he needs to clear his mind and he does so by letting up a bit, allowing the kiss to become languid and the heat to extinguish a bit. It only makes you whine more, and Steve curses his damned formula. You shouldn’t be part of an equation. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, and every aspect of your relationship so far has been a new experience for him. He needs this particular activity to be different too. No formulas or calculations. Just you and him and whatever happens naturally.

Clearly you can hear the cogs in his mind turning. You pull away with a concerned look on your face and ask, “what’s on your mind?”

Now’s not the time to hide anything from you, he reasons with himself. He wants to be authentic with you, and part of that means telling the truth, even if it’s not something particularly comfortable.

“I’m… falling into a routine. And I don’t want to,” he admits. He sighs and leans back, one hand dragging through his shaggy and disheveled hair, sure that he’s going to ruin the mood if he carries on like this. But he refuses to back away from the truth now. “This… it’s always been like…. Like a series of checkpoints. Boxes to check, y’know? Kiss you, take your clothes off, make you come, fuck you, say goodnight. And I don’t want… I can’t let it be like that with you. I need this to be… real. Not just some list to cross shit off of. I don’t–”

Steve takes a long, shaky breath before he can ramble on anymore. Never has someone so thoroughly gotten under his skin. He’s never felt so insecure, so unsure. It’s terrifying. The most terrifying part of it all, though, is that he likes it. He loves the feeling of the unfamiliarity, of doing this right. In a way, it’s almost like he’s doing all of this for the first time all over again. You’re his first date, first kiss, first time. All because he’s changed so drastically, because he’s not even remotely the same person he was just a year or two ago.

Your hands are so gentle as you cup his face, tenderly forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Steve… we don’t have to do this, not if you’re not ready. I want to be with you, not just for this, but for everything. Everything that comes with you… that’s what I want. There’s no pressure. I would wait a hundred years for you to be ready so long as I could still have you.”

Steve’s breath shakes a little as he comprehends the gravity of your words. There’s nothing he can say that can properly convey the gratitude he holds for your words, so he says nothing at all.

In his silence, you continue. “You’re more than a body, you know that, right? You’re funny, and kind, and smart. Yes, smart, don’t look at me like that. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted to be close to. I just… I want to spend time with you. I want to watch stupid movies and eat diner food until we get sick and laugh at your stupid jokes… and maybe make love with you, sure, but that’s pretty low on the list as long as I just get to be with you.”

He doesn’t notice the tears until it’s too late–by the time you’re wiping them from the apples of his cheeks it’s far too late to take them back or hide them. With anyone else, he would be angry; at himself, for allowing himself to be so vulnerable. For allowing himself to be so emotional. With you, though… with you, his emotions make him feel strong. 

For the first time since you walked into his life, he’s not scared of losing you.

“I love you,” he tells you. His voice is firm, as fierce as the kiss he presses to your mouth, as powerful as the waves of emotion vibrating through his very soul. “I love you so much.”

He barely gives you a chance to reply, as keen as he is on physically proving his love to you through myriad passionate kisses that leave you breathless. But when you finally get the chance to use your voice after a barrage of kisses that start to trail down your neck, you whisper, “I love you too.”

Four words, and they’re all he needs to quell every worry or fear he’s had over doing this relationship properly with you. Why should he have to worry, after all, when he’s already succeeded? 

“I love you,” he whispers as he trails down your neck and to your chest, leaving tender love bites on the tops of your breasts once he’s properly liberated you from your shirt.

“I love you,” he mumbles through sucking a mark a few inches north of your navel.

“I love you,” he murmurs when his lips meet your waistband. His fingers make quick work of your pants as he scatters kisses over your stomach, unable to part his mouth from your skin for even a moment.

“I love you,” he affirms as his mouth meets your hot and waiting core.

There’s no more checklist. Because this isn’t simply sex, as it always has been for him in the past. This is love-making: the kind of sappy shit they talk about in all those Hallmark movies that he rolls his eyes at the sight of. It’s like losing his virginity all over again.

He understands the old adage of “the other half” now. You’ve ripped him to shreds and sewed him back together with strands of yourself. The end result is better than the original ever could’ve even dreamed to be. He’s sure he couldn’t possibly live without you now, that losing you would be like ripping out fresh and unhealed stitches.

You’re not sure how long he camps out between your trembling thighs, but it’s long enough for you to lose count of the number of times he pulls you apart–first with his languid tongue; then his long, curved fingers; then a combination of the two. It’s like he loses himself completely in your pleasure, not a single thought in his head except what he can do to bring you to the edge again, and again, and again.

You’re trembling with oversensitivity by the time his own needs overtakes his desperation to unravel you. So out of it that you feel drunk, like Steve’s laced you with absolute bliss so pure you can barely stand it.

You’re hardly present enough to appreciate the adonis before you when he finally undoes his own jeans, and that’s a damned shame because he’s so damned pretty. Long and thick, flushed at the girthy tip from his hitherto unacknowledged arousal. His lean thighs are pure muscle, and the dark thatch of hair that trails south from his navel makes your mouth water. He’s everything you dreamed he’d be and so much more.

“Steve…” You don’t know what else you can possibly say. All you can do is vainly hope that one whine of his name can convey all of the heat, frustration, tension, and above all longing, swirling through your head in the moment.

He breaks from his lustful reverie for a moment to smile as he leans in for another heated kiss; you think it’s safe to say you’ve gotten your point across.

He slows from his mania for a few moments, lips tender as they explore against yours once more. These kisses are languid, slow, yet no less heated. Even now, he’s trying to prove his love to you. As if you could somehow not believe him after everything that’s happened, every small moment you’ve spent with him witnessing how hard he’s trying for you.

Somewhere in between kisses he manages to wrestle a condom out of his nightstand, miraculously without ever breaking from your lips.

Now is where you cut in, finally fading out of your over-pleasured fugue and back to reality. You take the little foil packet from his hands and tear it open, eager for this small chance to finally get a hand or two on him.

He lets out the most gorgeous noise you’ve ever heard as you roll the rubber down his length; a deep, earthy, diaphragmatic moan just from the simple touch of your hand. You want to touch him even more, to wrest out more of those sounds from him; to see what other undiscovered responses you can pull from him as you pleasure him. But you know that now, he needs to set the pace. He believes he has something to prove, and you’re more than happy to let him prove it. There will be plenty of other opportunities to have him completely at your mercy, anyway.

There’s no way to describe the feeling as he slides into you. It’s more than bliss, more than euphoria, more than earth-shattering toe-curling mind-altering pleasure. It’s nothing more than feeling whole. Of never knowing you were missing a part of yourself until it’s suddenly returned to you. Of never knowing what home felt like until this exact moment.

Maybe it’s overdramatic. Maybe it’s outlandish and outrageous and a million other adjectives to feel something so overpowering and overwhelming from such a seemingly simple physical act. But in this moment, you know you’ve never felt anything as right as being connected to Steve in this way.

His lips hardly leave yours while he rolls his hips against you, easily finding the perfect angle to make your breath hitch and your hands scrabble for purpose.

It admittedly doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t have to. Once you start to tighten and pulse around him, he’s a goner–deep purposeful thrusts turning to hard, arrhythmic plunges in desperate search of release.

You’re still shaking from your high when he slowly pulls out of you. He keeps you close, arms linked around your waist and dragging you to lay on his chest as he flops back against the pillows. 

You’re not sure how long you lay like that, with Steve whispering sweet nothings into your hair and pressing absentminded kisses to your face. All you can really focus on is one all-consuming, life-changing fact.

“I love you, Steve Harrington.”

“I love you too,” he whispers back. He kisses you again, just a simple peck on your lips, and you know that he’s telling the truth. It’s an eternal truth: one that can’t be changed or altered in any way. Steve Harrington loves you with every fibre of his being, and he will for the rest of his life–even if you’re both blissfully unaware of it for now.

THE END

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[just-jordie-things]

ik you literally JUST reblogged this but i was online so 😭 kiss prompt 52 w megumi 🫣🫣 -🌿

YES and ur not the only one it appears i've opened the floodgates for smooches

52: Accidentally Witnessed Kiss

**aged up characters!!** ___

you and megumi are good at hiding your relationship. very good, in fact, you're quite surprised that your nosey friends haven't caught on yet. just last week nobara tried to set you up with a salesman at a boutique you frequented. sure, megumi was a little annoyed by the notion, but you claimed it was only a testament to how well you'd kept your relationship hidden.

and of course hiding it was the right thing to do. your friends, and your sensei, were a pestering group, and you both agreed you didn't need any added stressors in your life. your relationship was yours, and it was meant to be a form of relaxation. after taxing assignments and grueling training sessions, it was comforting to know you could sneak into each other's rooms and hide away in each other's presence, forgetting about the rest of the world as you enjoyed being wrapped up in each other's arms.

it had been nearly six months of this. the sneaking around, the hidden gifts and love letters, the subtle brushes of his knuckles against the back of your hand as you walked side by side but at a safe, platonic distance from one another. you often didn't even sit by one another during movie nights, or shared lunches. you were so damn good at hiding your development out of friendship that your friends didn't even know how well you got along, if at all.

they didn't know that the sound of megumi's giggles when you asked him if he'd love you if you were a worm was the cutest sound in the world to you. they didn't know that megumi had your favorite drink memorized to order it for you. they didn't know you kept a special necklace around your neck at all times, tucked under the collar of your uniform. it's closer to my heart that way, you'd said cheerily when megumi had put it on for you for the first time. they didn't know you were each other's first love, and you very much intended for it to be your only love.

but everything comes to an end at some point, and the secrecy among such a close group of individuals could only last so long.

you were sitting on the counter in the small kitchenette that was a shared space in the hall of dormitories. your laughter was stifled behind your hand as megumi dumped out the leftovers he'd planned on eating for a late night snack. he wasn't as amused as you were, grumbling as he reached into the cabinet to eat cup noodles, yet again.

"i told you that they wouldn't stay good for that long," you scold, although your voice is soft and your eyes hold nothing but adoration. "you should've had them yesterday"

"yesterday was the only day we could go on a proper date with no one wondering where we were," megumi reminds you.

it had been a rare occasion, yuuji and nobara were partnered up for an assignment for the evening, giving you both just enough time to go to dinner and rush back before anyone could notice your absence.

"would you have rathered we stay here instead?" megumi asks, expecting you to pout and admit that going out was worth it.

instead you sit up a little straighter, reaching your arms around his neck to draw him closer to you. sitting on the counter gave you enough of a height advantage that you could be eye to eye with him.

"maybe," you muse thoughtfully, still tugging him close until he's slotted in the space between your legs.

his palms are warm as they rest on your thighs, and he too slides you closer to the edge of the counter in an attempt to draw you near enough that there wasn't a centimeter of space between you both. you smile at the action, nudging your nose against his.

"i do quite like staying in, with you" you hum, lashes fluttering as your eyes travel from his lips up to his own hooded gaze. he's smiling rather lazily at you, amused by the sudden affection.

normally he'd banter with you a bit more, just enough to tease and annoy you, before giving into what you so obviously really wanted.

but it was almost two in the morning now, there was no chance of anyone being around at this hour, and your hands were just so warm at the nape of his neck that he craved the rest of your warmth.

so his executive decision to give in completely, closing the small space left between your lips and sealing them with a kiss that had you humming in delight. he could feel you smiling in your victory.

the microwave is beeping with his finished noodles, but you're both far too melted into one another to care about the ringing sound by that point. your hands are too busy messing up his hair, carding through the soft locks until their nearly falling flat from how much you teased them. his own hands are having a hard time staying firmly on your hips, as the hem of your shirt moves and your warm skin is literally right at his finger tips. his movements are calculated as he carefully works his palms over your skin. somehow his hands are hot to the touch and yet leave goosebumps in their wake as they slide from your hips, to the small of your back, to your hips again. his fingers are splayed out wide, wanting to feel as much of you as he could.

you're lost in time, lost in him, you have no idea how long it's been since he'd started kissing you, and you don't know how long it'll be until one of you realize you should probably stop, but you push the thought away. why you'd ever stop kissing megumi, you don't know.

but the answer provides itself in the sound of plastic clattering to the linoleum floor.

your lips are off each other with an exaggerated smack, but no other noise fills the room as you and megumi turn your heads to the sound, only to find yuuji standing in the entryway of the kitchenette. his eyes are unblinking, and wide, and there's a plastic spider-man cup rolling on the ground at his feet.

unfortunately, your shared shock leaves you so frozen, that there's no chance of explaining yourselves to the pink haired boy. megumi's hands are still clearly under your shirt, while your hands are in loose fists in his hair. both of your mouths are swollen, hanging open slightly, both to say something that wasn't coming to mind, and also to pant for air seeing as you'd been rather... occupied.

would he believe you if you said friends just make out sometimes? probably not.

"you- you're-" yuuji raises a shaky, pointing at you both to gesture to what he didn't know how to explain.

he felt like he just walked in on santa claus placing gifts under the christmas tree. or seen bigfoot dash between trees. or caught nobara's roots growing in. this was such an unbelievable sight, his brain was hardly processing.

"you're kissing!" it finally comes out, so loud it stirs you and megumi out of your compromising position.

he quickly removes his hands from under your shirt, tugging down the hem for good measure, and you're scooting back on the countertop to put as much space between you both as you could. anxiously, megumi's running his hands through his hair to make it look as untouched as possible. it was all in vain, your nervous movements to make it seem like yuuji hadn't caught anything, because he most certainly had.

"we- we were just-" you start, but look to megumi for help.

"yeah- we- i mean- nothing- well-" he tries to help you finish an excuse but you're both gaping at each other and shaking your heads, not knowing what you could say to make yuuji forget what he saw.

megumi sighs.

you give your friend a wince of a smile.

"any chance you won't tell everyone?"

yuuji simply shakes his head, his expression unwavering.

didn't think so, you thought.

"no one will believe you" megumi tries, but yuuji shrugs.

"i dunno. you have a hickey" yuuji replies, calmly, as though in a state of shock.

megumi's hand smacks over his neck before he's turning to glare at you. however, realizing there was no coming back from this, you burst into a fit of giggles, much to his dismay.

"a hickey?" he hisses in annoyance. "what are you, fifteen?"

"what!? you liked it!" you say through your giggles.

with your mini argument taking place, yuuji had plenty of time to race off towards the dorms to wake up nobara first. then they would certainly call their sensei to deliver the news. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

[serialkilluh1996]

✆𝐌𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐇𝐋𝐄𝐑✆

Older-Crush-König x Younger-female-reader pt.1

You have an unhealthy infatuation with König. But where there is obsession, there are dilemmas. He's 35, you're 21. He's your colonel, you're just an assistant. But most importantly, he can't fucking stand you.

Warnings: reader has specifically the personality i wrote, use of ☆☆☆ in place of reader's name, age gap (14 years), König is kinda of an ass, contact me if I need to add more.

Proshippers, Comshippers DNI

¹ 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ➛

It's been almost a year since you fell in love with this man.

You were 20, looking for a reasonably paying job to live a reasonably affordable life, and Kortac had just the position.

A base level assistant. All you had to do was make sure everyone was in check, keep track of everyone's time sheets, and make sure all important files, including inventory, were safely stowed away in your computer supplied by the company. Who could turn down such an easy job? You didn't even have to do any field work.

Your life was going pretty damn smooth, if it wasn't for him. Him being König, your colonel and angel. He's a gorgeous man. Bright blue eyes, a firm muscular body, imposing height, his flattering accent. You were instantly in love with him, and he fucking hated it.

It started off small, with him politely hinting you away, but you were persistent. Bothersome. You absolutely wouldn't let him go, and that very fact would be the death of you.

König taps his pen against his desk, unmotivated to write his paperwork that was long past due. It wasn't anything serious, just a list of yes/no, if/and, where/when questions he didn't feel like reading through. Tap tap tap tap, the pen knocks against the table, abruptly stopping once König noticed you standing in the doorway.

He sighs, his entire mood shifting from unmotivated to irritated. "...why are you here, ☆☆☆..." he asks, sounding like more of a statement than a question due to his heavy accent and rough tone. Your name sounded like a curse coming from his mouth; a slur, even.

"I've done all my tasks." You explain to him, hands clasped together as you lean against the threshold.

"Und? Did ya want a cookie or something?" He teases. "I–I–" you stutter out, not sure how to respond to his sarcasm. "Don't worry about it." He fans his hand, looking back down at the paper.

He would've wrather been writing than dealing with you right now. You were so genuinely in love, enamored by him and his....qualities. but to König, this was all just some dumb hormonal puppy crush. He wanted a mature woman, not some silly girl like you.

"I...wanted to know if you'd go to the bar with me." You force out, your stomach churning with anxiety as you finally got the words out. "I'm not gonna be able to sneak you, Liebling, if that's what you're implying." He chuckles softly, beginning to scribble away at the paper.

"Sneak me in? I'm old enough to go to a bar, thank you very much." You look offended. It's almost humorous to him. Your anger is probably the only thing about you that made him smile, how funny and easy it was to piss you off. The younger ones typically did have a shorter temper.

"Oh, und how old are ya? 16? 17?" "...21." You said firmly, visibly irritated. You somehow managed to be the youngest in every group, so you were no stranger to being tease about your age.

"Oh...just old enough to drink. So, you want me to come and babysit you while you get drunk off your ass by some alcohol you're probably not even strong enough to handle?" "Why are you acting like this?" You folded your arms, frowning.

"What?" "I'm not inviting you as a chaperone, I'm inviting you as a date." You tilt your head slightly.

"...A date?" König almost bursts into laughter, stifling his chuckles with coughs as he covered his mouth. You could feel your confidence dropping with every hearty giggle.

"You're asking me out? Seriously?" "...yes." You mumble, no longer wanting to talk. "Why don't you ask Avery, hm? He's MUCH closer to your age." You frown at his words.

Avery was one his soldiers. A very kind young man, no older than 25, messy blonde hair. You loved having Avery around and he always made your moments memorable, but...he was practically a brother to you. You didn't see Avery as a potential love interest, you saw him as a silly best friend who had your back when you needed it.

"I don't want to go with him. I don't like him." You pouted.

"Well, that's too bad, Liebling. I'm far too old to be going out with someone like you. You're too young, und frankly, quite annoying. I want a woman. Not a puppy. Go ask someone else," he clicks his pen, leaning back in his chair.

"You're a very beautiful young lady and I'm sure there's plenty of men your age willing to kill to be with you." "I don't care what tuey want, I care what I want." You try to sound demanding, like you're standing your ground, but it comes out like a spoiled child whining, frustrating you further.

"Don't throw a fit, now." "I'm not!" You shout, now angry with yourself for being so openly bothered by his rejection. He couldn't help but exhale, looking at the sight of you. Your face was hot with agitation, eyes squinted with frustration as you stared into his eyes. He couldn't help but smile at your clenched hands. You were awful at hiding your emotions. It was almost precious to him

He felt himself becoming more tense, having to look down at the desk and put a hand to his forehead. "What am I gonna do with you..." he shakes his head. This wasn't the first time he'd rejected your advances; you've asked a myriad of times, being slowly but surely denied with more force each time.

"... I'll consider it." He offers, scratching his forehead, and you almost instantly rejoice at the idea. You suppressed a squeal as you bit your lip, trying not to make yourself look dumber.

"But not as a date." He interrupts, and you become nervous again.

"I don't want any unnecessary rumors about us spreading around. I'm not dating you and I don't want people to have the impression that I am. I'll invite a few others to go along with us and you will behave like a proper young lady. Understood?" "....Understood."

You can support me by liking, commenting, reblogging, and/or cashapping me @fundsbrownie. Donations are optional, but much appreciated. Have fun! And remember, take care of yourself.

[yeonboy]

𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ♡ choi yeonjun.

If you had known that a fun night out eating junk food with your best friend that you have always harbored a crush on would turn this sour because he misunderstood your words, you would have kept your mouth shut. Now Yeonjun has gone radio silent on you and if you want to salvage your friendship, you will have to get over your feelings first because he will never forgive you if he finds out. Right?

❧ choi yeonjun x f. reader | 16+ | college!au ♡ best friends to lovers!au ♡ angst ♡ humor ♡ fluff

❧ 7 k words

❧ warnings! inaccuracies wrt college sports/scouting/ice hockey, profanity, suggestive language, suggestive scenes, discussion and exhibition of puck bunny behavior, mentions of slut-shaming, misunderstandings, miscommunication, jealousy, some pining, yeonjun is stooooopiiiid, yn is also stooooopiiiid, one (1) singular heavy makeout sesh that gets a little out of hand hehe (:

❧ note! hi, world! this is a sideblog i created v v recently, but you won’t find links to my main anywhere bec i’ve decided to be a catfish on this one (: LOL jk, i just wanted a fresh start. i will be cutting back on the hoeing around i used to indulge in w my writing on that blog, and keep this place as sfw as i can - we’ll focus on tummy-aching angst instead! w a happy ending ofc bec ya girl is a softie 😔

leave me feedback if you like this! follow for more! (:

❧ masterlist | inbox ⁘

"Dude, this has gone so fucking soggy, it's like chewing leather. Please stop eating it."

Your words of disgust and grimace of distaste were, unsurprisingly, nothing to deter your best friend from munching on the cold fries he'd left for the last when he'd been too busy gobbling down his burgers. Stuffing a handful into his mouth like an actual ape, he in fact wiggles his eyebrows at you in a challenge.

"I feel like I've seen an orangutan eat exactly the way you just did, Choi Yeonjun. Please stop."

That makes him giggle and clear his mouth, finally raising his hands in surrender. "Kay, I give up. They do taste like leather."

"Not even gonna ask how you know that… But this is why you're supposed to have your fries with the burgers and not after it."

"But they mess up my palate!"

When he pouts like that, it's so hard for you to believe that he's the university’s senior ice hockey team’s ace, their Center, their captain, and that he’s looking to get scouted professionally, this year. When he pouts like that, he takes you back to the time you first met him on the first day of your high school, both clueless freshmen with wide, innocent eyes full of huge dreams about your future.

Dreams that you're both very, very close to making a reality, now – him as a professional hockey player, and you interning at the law firm of your dreams.

Damn. Time sure flies fast.

“What? Is there something on my face?” Yeonjun tilts his head and you blink away from your thoughts, averting your gaze from his to instead stare at his shitty, soggy fries.

“Yeah. Stupid. A lot of it.”

Yeonjun rolls his eyes and rips a tissue out of the dispenser on the table to dab around his mouth just in case, and that gives you room to breathe in and out and try to will away the heat you can feel in your cheeks.

See, now, the thing is – you don’t necessarily have romantic feelings for your platonic best friend of eight years. That’d just be absurd and kind of creepy. But you sure as heck have always harbored a crush on him.

It’s just impossible not to! 

Guy has always been literally the most gorgeous human being you’ve ever seen, even at the universally ugly age of fourteen. He’s a gentleman, always kind to every single person in his life, would probably cut a limb off for a friend in need, and ever since your sophomore year of college, he’s gotten into manically coloring his hair, which…is seriously injurious to the onlookers’ health because dear God, the dirty blonde of his hair with the dark roots peeking through from his middle part? Makes your heart literally pound.

And he isn’t even doing anything! Other than being gross with a tissue paper and inedible fries, which should absolutely turn you off from ever liking anything about him, but it does the opposite.

That is another thing about him – he’s too freaking smooth and sexy about every damn thing in his life. The day his hair turned from black to blue, nearly two years back, he developed all these flirty charms on top of his kind ones. Now he isn’t just an insanely handsome dude who’d hold your hand to help you cross the road, but he’d also freaking wink at you when you thank him for his kindness.

You as in a person, not – not you. He’d never wink at you, you're too friendzoned for that. And it's kind of a blessing because you’d probably run the risk of jumping back into oncoming traffic if he did.

Wow.

You can’t count on one hand the number of times you have had to tug on the reins of your heart when it’s tried to take a flight, jumping off the cliff of your very inconvenient crush and into the bottomless abyss of having actual romantic feelings for him. Because that would be catastrophic. And not just because you fear he'd reject you and you’d lose the one person who means the most to you in the world.

“Should I get more burgers?”

Your gaze snaps to him in surprise. He’s pouting again, this time looking at the greasy fingerprints laden menu card kept on your table. The anxiety that had started to churn in your stomach at the prospect of your very concerning crush turning into something more, suddenly leaves and you huff out a small laugh.

“You’ve had six in the past hour, Jjun. I’d say stop for the night, maybe?”

“Hey, I have a big appetite!” He scowls at you. “And it’s close to midnight, already! You know I begin my diet for the season from tomorrow!”

You groan. “Well, then, why did you ask?”

“To be encouraged, of course! To be comforted.” He widens his eyes and blinks at you. “Or did you forget I’m also supposed to be nursing a broken heart?”

The groan you release at that is loud, drawn out and filled with a year’s worth of exasperation. This is the other reason why you catching romantic feelings for him would be catastrophic. His emotional quotient is seriously questionable when it comes to the matters of heart. If he could love a partner half as much as he loves dogs, maybe he wouldn’t be ‘nursing a heartbreak’ because of the fifth person that has dumped him since your final year began. And you aren’t even done with your mid-sems yet.

But you don't tell him that, instead patting on his leather jacket clad forearm with a fake sympathetic expression. “Ah, yes, poor you. My deepest condolences to your heart.”

He knows you and your bullshit and you know he does, so the attack that his hands launch at your throat in the next two seconds doesn't surprise you, and your defensively raised shoulders don't surprise him.

You're both dissolving into giggles, then, having nothing short of a wrestling match across the small cafe table. "I really liked Lea, okay?"

"Oh yeah? You didn't even—oof, that tickles! You didn't even know she was Kai's sister!"

At that he lets go of you and slumps back in his seat with a scowl. "Please don't remind me. I still worry he's gonna stab me in my sleep someday…"

You place a palm over your mouth to stifle your laugh. "To be fair, Lea shouldn't have been indulging in puck bunny behavior if she didn't want to be treated like one."

"Don't say that wo~rd," Yeonjun whines with his whole head thrown back. "She's Kai's sister! And she's younger than me!"

"Just by four months! Stop being dramatic, Jjun. She's a junior at college – she knew what she was doing."

Yeonjun doesn't look convinced. "I mean… I don't think she was with me only because I'm hockey captain. She knows all of HK's friends personally."

You wonder why he is defending her. Did he actually, genuinely like the girl? Romantically? What are the odds of Yeonjun finally making an attempt to open his heart up to someone and them ending up dumping him? He doesn't really look that dumped, though, so you figure that this must be out of some misplaced protectiveness he feels for one of his best friend's sisters.

Man should've thought of that before he dated her. Sigh.

"Yeah, which makes it worse." You wince when he frowns. "Come on, Jjun. She's known you since middle school but decides to make a move now? Only to break it off in three weeks because others are 'slut-shaming' her”—you make air-quotes around the term, rolling your eyes—“when they call her out for wearing another guy's jersey in preseason when she's supposed to be dating you. Can't tell me that's not manipulative and experienced puck bunny behavior."

Yeonjun’s eyes are wide when you finish speaking. “What…?”

“She didn't have feelings for you, Jjun! I mean, you obviously didn't have any for her either, but I hope you keep it that way with these girls. I highly doubt Lea even tried to get to know you at all, given how busy she was posting pictures of y'all on all her socials." His expressions haven't changed much, so you try to conclude your point quickly. “All I'm saying is, it is actually a good thing you’ve never taken these relationships too seriously. There’s more business than emotion with these clout chasers, Jjun.”

Yeonjun is gaping at you now and you're a little confused as to how to take it. Is he surprised at the revelation about Lea? You doubt that to be the case when the entire tale of their romance had been broadcasted all over the campus this past week.

So then…is he surprised at your opinion of things? You sure hope he isn't about to pick a fight with you because you're in no mood to concede. Not about this. Not when you've died multiple deaths every minute that Lea has spent being a pick-me by your best friend's side.

"I… She did have feelings for me, Y/N. They—the girls that I date all have some feelings for me, come on." He gives a small chuckle that is so wry, it makes you fidget in discomfort. “I haven’t taken these relationships that casually. I'm – I’m not some vain playboy, sleeping my way around the college.”

Okay, hold on – what?

What?

How did he take that away from your rant? He's really defending himself when you never even attacked him? When you never would attack him?

"Yeonjun, no… That's not what I'm trying—"

"Let's – let's just drop this." He looks distressed, and the frown on his lips makes your heart hurt. More so because you are the one who put it there. "You won't get it, anyways."

Now that – gives you a pause. "I won't…get it?"

He gets up, unbothered and unabashed, and walks with his tray of empty wrappers and inedible fries to dump it into the trash can near the exit of the cafe. You wordlessly follow, tilting your head in an attempt to catch his eye, but Yeonjun's got some 5 inches on you so you can't really force him to look at you when he doesn't want to.

And now he's walking out of the cafeteria.

"Jjun?"

He sighs and stops, looking over his shoulder, straight into your eyes with a bored stare. "What?"

"What? You're, like, not even gonna explain that last sentence?" 

This time you're the one with the wry chuckle while Yeonjun fidgets in discomfort. 

"What won't I get, Yeonjun?"

"Look, it's… well. You’ve always subtly looked down upon all the girls I’ve dated in college, and that was fine. You’re my best friend, you’re allowed to be a critic.” He shrugs with a nonchalant look in his eyes, but his lips are still twisted sourly. “But… I never realized you thought I was the problem. Someone so vapid that my only appeal is the fame hockey gets me.”

No… literally when did you insinuate that?

You're rendered mute, taken aback by how badly Yeonjun seems to have interpreted your words. He exhales and it sounds very loaded. You don't miss the way he keeps avoiding your gaze; nor the disappointed frown that decorates his forehead.

“You won’t get it because you don’t want me, you’ve never wanted me – and that is absolutely cool! But just because you like to have me as a comedic relief character in your life doesn’t mean that no one sees any depth in me.”

“A… comedic relief character?” your voice comes out low and hoarse and almost tattered, a little shrilly from disbelief. You're not even gonna touch on his 'never wanted him' claim because the rest of his speech has your brain actually spinning. “What the hell are you talking about? This isn’t about you – it’s about these girls… You’re my best friend, Yeonjun!”

“And yet you can’t find one reason why these girls would like me beyond using me for clout.” He gives a shrug and finally meets your eyes again. But his stare is absolutely vacant and unreadable. “You don’t use me for clout, though, and yet you keep me around. You obviously don’t care about my opinions, or you wouldn't have exchanged numbers with Changbin when I told you he was bad news. What else is there to our friendship other than laughing together, then?”

His words are like death blows – each syllable laced with a different kind of poison. Every inhale you take from the air his words have contaminated seems to sear a painful path through your lungs. Breathing hurts. Looking at him hurts. Your eyes are filling up and your tummy is aching.

There’s so much wrong with everything he just said, so much misinterpretation, so many actual blatant untruths, that you don’t even know how to begin correcting them. 

How did you even get here?

You’d only been trying to warn him about girls that might use him. You were only trying to protect his heart.

How did that turn into him thinking you don’t value your friendship with him? That you don’t value him?

“Oh, and by the way,” he continues, pushing both hands into his leather jacket and looking into the distance, “Changbin’s probably gonna ask you to cheer for him this season, which is kind of a big deal because… you know, this out final session and there will be professional scouts present and all. So if you decide to say yes…” He pauses and turns to look at you again, gaze tired and eyes lidded. “If you say yes, I hope you know it’ll mean a lot more.”

Why is he bringing up Changbin again? You’d only exchanged numbers to get that guy's incessant ass off your back – you haven’t even responded to a single text he’s sent you in the past two months. Cheering for him? In a season as important to their careers as this one? 

Absolutely out of the question.

Does Yeonjun not know you at all?

You’re about to tell him that, when he suddenly pulls his phone out with a sigh. “I’m planning to hand my jersey over to Chaeyoung – you know, running for senior cheer captain? Thought I’d ask for your opinion, but… You’ve already made that pretty clear tonight.”

Angry tears blur your vision and your heart hurts as if it’s dying a slow death in your chest.

Chaeyoung, really? So he’s skipping seamlessly from Lea to Chaeyoung. 

Of course. 

Why did you even bother worrying about his heart when he clearly doesn’t even have one. How could you forget.

Maybe it’s a good thing you never let yourself fall for Yeonjun beyond a crush.

“For what it’s worth,” you finally manage to mutter, brows furrowed and gaze focused on your worn out sneakers, “I’m sorry. I was trying to look out for you, not – not hurt you. You’re the most important person in my life, Yeonjun. I could never hurt you.”

You don’t wanna wait around to hear his response, so you just wordlessly walk away. Your dorms are hardly half a mile from here; you can shut yourself in your room and sob into your pillow in less than twenty minutes from now.

The fact comforts you enough to make you walk faster.

And also helps you ignore the pain that runs across your entire body when Yeonjun doesn’t even attempt to stop you.

You haven’t checked your phone in a while now but it has to have been over six am currently because you can hear your roommate moving around. Stealthily, you pull the comforter down from your face to peer into the dark room, only to hear a loud sigh echo around the place.

“You’re seriously still up?” Yuqi’s disappointed voice calls out. “The crying sounds stopped sometime after four so I reckoned you fell asleep.”

You wince in guilt. “Fuck, Yuqi, I’m so sorry I kept you awake—”

“Woah, what?”

She turns the lights on, suddenly brightening the room. Your roommate’s dressed in her cheer outfit, probably on her way to early morning practice. She is running for captain as well and the voting concludes in five days.

Cheer captain… Chaeyoung…

You can feel another bout of tears coming on, the back of your raw eyes stinging anew. Your head is pounding like someone’s cracked your skull open, but it still doesn't hold a candle to the ache that originates from your heart and makes your entire chest cave in on itself.

“Oh my God, babe, you look worse than you sound!”

You click your tongue and rub at your eyes. “I… Ugh, it’s been a weird night, Yuqi.”

She kneels beside you on the floor, face drawn in concern. “Are you okay?”

“I will be.” You try to sit up with her help. “I guess?”

“Oh, babe…” Yuqi sits next to you and draws you in an embrace. “What happened?”

“Y–Yeonjun,” you can barely articulate his name before your throat closes up again.

“Ah, man. What’d the idiot do this time?”

Yuqi has been your roommate and your closest friend since freshman year. Needless to say, she knows all about your friendship with Yeonjun and more than a little about your crush on him. She believes he’s too oblivious and doesn’t particularly like him for that reason. More often than not, you’re batting for his defense against Yuqi.

Right now, though, you feel like you’re gonna agree with every colorful word she uses for the guy.

So you tell her exactly what happened – give her a play by play of all the words said and reactions given, receiving hisses and grunts of annoyance in response, until you mention what he said about Changbin and Yuqi breaks your narration with a gasp.

“What the fuck?”

You just sigh and shrug a shoulder. “And he’s picking Chaeyoung to to wear his jersey for the most important season of his life, so I guess it’s whatever.”

“You know, it seemed to me like he was upset and acted out defensively… which would have been okay to a certain point, a misunderstanding that could be cleared out – had he not pulled that Changbin card. Why would he ask you to go after a teammate?” Yuqi tugs at the end of her ponytail in frustration. “And Chaeyoung? Literally the enemy? Now he's just an asshole.”

That last bit makes a small chuckle tumble out of you. “How… how is she, though? As a person?”

It’s so stupid of you to still attempt to look out for Yeonjun when he just dismissed your whole friendship. But you cannot help it.

“She’s… not a bad person, to be honest. As much as it pains me to admit.” Yuqi sighs. “She’s friends with the entire cheer team, friendly with the players, never been a bully to anybody. Hence why she’s running for captain alongside me.”

Should that comfort you? You believe it should. You warned your best friend about girls that might try to use him – and Chaeyoung sounds like she might not be that kind of a person. That’s good news, right?

So why does your heart seem to ache even more?

“Everything just...hurts, Yuqi. So much.” You tip your head against her shoulder. “What do I do?”

“Admit to yourself that you don’t just have aa crush on Yeonjun, for starters?”

You turn to look at her with surprised wide eyes. “What?”

Yuqi just rolls her eyes. “Come on, Y/N. You can’t move on if you don’t admit to it first, can you?”

Move on…?

Is that what you have to do now? Maybe. 

If you want to attempt to salvage any bit of your bond with Yeonjun, it’s best if you at least get rid of the affection that permeates the boundaries of platonic friendship.

“And then maybe text Changbin back,” Yuqi continues. “He’s their goalie. I’ve talked to him a couple of times, he’s nice. Kinda cute? If nothing else, he'll help take your mind off of Yeonjun and Chaeyoung.

You just exhale a deep breath. “Maybe.”

16:37 | changbin (: congratulations to yuqi! tell her i knew she would make it :D

↪ Haha thanks! Will do!

soooo our first match’s three days away kinda wanted to ask u something before that meet me at the lockers after practice today lol?

↪ Oh it’s Monday already right? ↪ I’ll see you at the lockers, sure! ↪ How does around 7 sound?

perfect~~ just like your eyes >.<

“Ew, man, ewww…”

You press your phone to your chest with a gasp, turning to glare at Yuqi. “Hey! It’s rude to read over someone’s shoulder!”

“No, what’s ruder is you not telling me how cringey this guy is!” Yuqi is very close to rolling on the floor, and you really can’t blame her. 

You’ve been texting back and forth with this Changbin guy for over a week now. He’s definitely nice and definitely more than a little cute, Yuqi didn’t lie to you. 

But – the way this dude flirts? Good God. 

Cringe must be an understatement. You have permanent goosebumps at this point because of how often you experience full body shivers out of the absolute secondhand embarrassment he has made you live through, every single day.

On the other hand, there's been radio silence between you and… him. Your best friend. His name sends a painful pang through your chest, so you've been avoiding even thinking about him. And Changbin's been a great distraction on that front.

That is not to say it has helped any feelings to blossom in your heart for the guy. His sweet but cringey self is a friend, at best. Your heart…is obviously elsewhere.

Things became so much clearer once you let yourself think everything over without any pressure and pretense, and admit to what you feel for your best friend, like Yuqi suggested.

Turns out you were wrong, after all. You really haven't succeeded at managing to stop yourself from falling further than a harmless crush for Yeonjun, because this constant hurt that has made home in your chest ever since he stopped talking to you? The wave of gloom that overtakes you whenever you so much as think about him? Surely a lot more harmful than what a crush warrants and surely surpassing best friend territory; by a leap.

The next step was attempting to move on with the help of Changbin, but that clearly fell flat on its face.

Exhaling a tired breath, you send a blushing emoticon back to the guy, and wonder why you're responding to his flirting when you know you've already failed and this is gonna end in tragedy.

“He sends you congratulations for making captain, by the way," you inform Yuqi when she's finally stopped giggling.

“Aw, did he say that was cool? As cool as your hair, maybe?”

You just groan and roll your eyes. “I’m gonna go see him tonight. He’ll probably offer me his jersey…”

That sobers Yuqi up. “Oh. So it’s time, huh? What’re you gonna tell him?”

You give her a wry smile. “What do you think?”

Understanding flashes across her face as Yuqi pats your shoulder in comfort with a sympathetic smile. “Well… At least you tried, yeah?”

Yeah… and failed spectacularly.

And are now hopelessly in love and helplessly heartbroken.

The locker rooms are nearly empty when you get there by seven. According to Changbin's text, he'll be there in the next five minutes and you are to wait by the rows immediately opposite the entrance to the bathrooms.

For a men's locker, the place is fairly clean and pleasant smelling. 

You're in the middle of inhaling a chest full of some citrusy fragrance when the pitter-patter of a feet reaches you – and then abruptly stops. The small gasp that meets your ears before you've even fully turned around is enough for you to recognise him. 

Why're you bumping into him here of all places?

He's been a ghost around the campus, as absent from your shared classes and the cafeteria as he is from your inbox – your life. 

But here he shows up – to catch you waiting for a guy he's always warned you against and only told you to accept when he was mad at you.

You're beginning to regret this whole thing you began with Changbin even though you're here to end it tonight.

Swallowing, you swerve on your heels to come face to face with a freshly showered Yeonjun, dressed in a fluffy hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. Your heart hammers against your ribcage, head filling up with thoughts of burying yourself in his embrace. His hair isn't fully dried yet, with some of it sticking to his forehead, but…what draws your attention is how gaunt and tired his face looks. 

There are large purple bags beneath his eyes and permanent frown lines around his lips. You're willing to bet this is not all due to the season's stress, because the last time you saw Yeonjun with dark circles was when you came down with a bad flu in high school and were bedridden for a week. He stayed by your side the whole time, despite both your mothers warning him about catching the infection, and barely slept.

You know it's a little unfair of you to think this way when you're the one that hurt him first, even if unintentionally, but you can't help wondering whether Yeonjun would still care if you caught a flu now. Would he even bother checking up on you, now that he's made it clear that he believes you don't think much of him and your friendship.

Does he still value you and your bond, despite the conclusions he's drawn about your feelings?

"What are you… oh."

Those are his first words to you in over a week, and the absolute disappointment on his face kinda makes up for the lack of verbal cues.

Your fists tighten on your sides, hating the way his eyes fill up with nonchalance and the way his lips purse. Why's he acting like he doesn't care? He should care!

But at the same time, you don't want him to think of you even worse than he has been. So you clear your throat and try to explain, "I've… I'm gonna clear things out with Changbin. Tell him I'm not interested so that he doesn't – he doesn't hope for anything more."

Yeonjun raises an eyebrow up, setting his jaw and lowering his eyelids. "You're good at that, aren't you? Ensuring that people aren't living with false hopes?"

Hearing his voice after so long fills your heart up with an emotion you're probably too inarticulate to explain. But his words, as snidely delivered as they are, confuse you. "What…?"

Rolling his eyes as if explaining himself to you is a waste of time for him, Yeonjun waves a hand in dismissal. "Nothing at all. He'll be heartbroken, though. Was really counting on you cheering for him. Are you absolutely sure you're not interested?"

His patronizing tone is a little too much for you, and even the lower pitch of voice he's using – one that you have always secretly fawned over – isn't able to curb your frustration. "Yes, Yeonjun, I'm sure. He'll live, he'll find someone else." And because you're beginning to feel irritated and jealous, you add, "If his second choice isn't Chaeyoung, that is."

You see the way a vein pops in his forehead and a sense of satisfaction runs through you at having struck a nerve. "Oh, so you've got words to say about Chaeyoung too, then? I thought you'd let her pass because she's famous enough by herself. Cheer vice captain, and all."

He's throwing you bait to rile you up, you know that – but you can't help the fiery fury that overtakes your senses either way.

Stalking up to him, you push a finger against Yeonjun's chest and glare into his wide, surprised eyes. "If you really think she's interested in you for you, go ahead and date her. Don't goad me into giving an opinion when you won't even care about it."

He brings a large hand up to wrap around yours, holding it tight in obvious anger. "Like you care about mine?"

"I'm literally here to say no to Changbin, Jjun! What the hell is your problem?" you yell out, pushing at his chest with your free hand – but to no avail because he holds your other wrist with his other hand as well.

"My problem is that you're saying no because you think this is beneath you!" he yells back, leaning from his towering form to bring his face to the same level as yours. "You think my girlfriends, my lifestyle – everything's beneath you!"

Your mouth falls open in utter shock because once again – this was never about him! "Yeonjun – no! For the last time, no, I don't think that! I don't think you're vain or unlikable, or that anything you do is beneath me, I just – I just fear someone will break your heart if you're not careful!"

"Is that so? You're not judgemental of the girls I date? Didn't you call Lea a – a puck bunny?"

"I didn't mean it like that!" you scream back and lean towards him, leaving barely inches between both of your fuming, frowning faces. "I was just getting metaphorical and, hell, maybe I was jealous because you've never asked me to cheer for—fuck…"

Panicked, you pull away from Yeonjun's loosened grasp, looking away from his raised eyebrows and open mouth.

You did not mean to say that. Not like this, not now… maybe never.

Face heating up like a damn furnace, you stumble away from your frozen best friend in a hurry. If he thought you were sabotaging your friendship before, he's going to absolutely hate you for harboring feelings for him. It's a blatant breach of his trust.

Shit, you should've begun to distance yourself when you first felt the tender tendrils of affection for the cutest fourteen year old guy you'd ever seen. You shouldn't have let those feelings fester – you shouldn't have let them grown into this beast that now stands to swallow your years' long friendship.

Tears prick your eyes, but there's no time to mourn right now – you need to get back to your dorm and bury yourself beneath a pillow before that.

But you've barely made it to the gates to the locker room when a firm hand grips your upper arm from behind and twirls you around. Back pressing into the wall, a gasp is torn from your chest when Yeonjun's huge, twinkling eyes cage you in. His arms resting on the wall next to you are completely unnecessary; you'd stand still through an apocalypse if he pinned you with this gaze of his.

"What…what do you mean you were jealous I never asked you?" he breathlessly questions, literal stars sparkling through his dark irises at you.

Now. If you were not adept at reading your best friend like a book, maybe you would have wondered if coming clean right now would make his eyes brighter or dim them instead. Maybe you would have debated whether lying your way out of this situation and apologizing later would be a good idea. Maybe you would have ducked from under his arms and made a run for it.

But because you have known this boy for more than seven years now, have observed every single expression of happiness and excitement that his face is capable of producing, have admired how adorable hope and anticipation looks on him – because you've loved him since the time you could barely even understand what love meant…you have no reason to doubt.

"I mean I wanted you to ask me, Jjunie. I wanted to be the one that'd be by your side, wearing your jersey and cheering from the stands for you," your voice comes out as a hoarse whisper, but Yeonjun clings onto every single word, given the stutters you can hear in his breathing. "I… I wanted you to look at me when you scored, point at me and tell everyone around us that…"

Your gaze flickers down his face, running across his nose to land on his parted, plump pair of lips. They spread a little to allow an airy chuckle to pass, and then form a wispy, questioning: "That?"

He's moved incredibly close to you, nearly touching your foreheads together and leaving an inch of space between your mouths. You look up into his eyes and they are hooded, spilling happiness, adoration but also something sincere.

"That," you rasp quietly, slowly in the small space between you, "that I'm your girl."

Yeonjun's exhale of minty toothpaste breath washes over your face, forehead tipping over yours and nose sliding against yours. When he speaks next, his lips brush the corner of your mouth and your body grows taut like a bowstring, ready to snap at the barest flick of his hands.

"Are you my girl?"

His voice has gotten incredibly lower and guttural and you just bring your hands up to clench into the fabric of his hoodie to ground yourself. Your eyes slide shut against the intensity of his own, breaths coming shorter and faster.

"I'd – I'd like to be. If…you'd have me?"

"Of fuck, baby, don't you know you've always owned me?"

You barely get a moment to process the term of endearment and the acceptance, let alone the actual depth and true implication of his words, when the softest pairs of lips you have ever felt brush against yours. Tentatively, so lightly that they almost tickle. Gasping in an exhale, you part your eyelids to find Yeonjun looking at you through a similarly shuttered gaze.

"Can I kiss you?" 

Oh God, oh God, oh God—

“Yes, please.”

The words have barely exited you before Yeonjun is erasing any remaining space between you completely by pressing his mouth fully against yours. His lips feel even more softer than they look, molding against yours like a pair of clouds. Combined exhales of relief leave the two of you, breathing just as in sync as your bodies are. Your hands move from his jacket to run across his broad shoulders and your fingers wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

As if waiting for you to do just that, Yeojun guides both his hands to your waist, bringing you closer to him, before one of them detours to run past your waist and down your thigh to hook around your knee. His mouth opens against yours, then, teeth biting into the flesh of your bottom lip. With a shuddering gasp, you hold onto him tighter and allow him to lick into your mouth, lost in the taste and feel of him.

His hand grips onto your leg to lift it from the ground and wrap it around his thigh, allowing him to slot his hips against yours perfectly. You can feel yourself spiraling, unable to form coherent thoughts beyond the heady rush of electricity that zaps through you with every pull of Yeonjun's lips. When you begin to grow breathless, his lips detach from yours to slip down your chin and press against your throat.

A mixture of gasp and whine escapes you, making his grip on you tighten and his lips turn bolder in their exploration of your neck. You feel his teeth scraping over your collarbone and shivers run through you, causing your back to arch and press further into his body. He groans against your skin and runs his hand up your leg to caress the delicate skin of your thigh.

You realise this is getting kind of out of hand because you've just confessed your feelings and you're still in the damn locker room, but your eyes can't help but clench shut as your fingers tug on his silky soft hair, silently asking him to keep going. 

But Yeonjun is far more in control of the situation than you are, given the way he turns his kisses from hungry to chaste, slowly. Pressing a closed mouth peck to your cheek, he rearranges his grip on you to pick you up with his hands beneath your thighs, and carries you to a bench. He sits down and drapes your legs over his own to make you straddle him, holding you firmly but softly in place.

He plants a soft, sweet kiss to your lips and rests his forehead against yours. Your eyelids part to the blurry sight of his shining eyes. It takes you a moment to realise you have tears in your eyes – and that he does as well.

With the softest smile that you have ever seen on him, Yeonjun brings a thumb up to your face and flicks at the corner of your eye.

"I've liked you ever since high school, you know?"

Your lashes flutter in fascination. "Really? But you never… you always…"

His cheeks grow pink when you scrunch your nose up instead of finishing the sentence, and he shuts his eyes. "You just never really showed any interest… You never looked jealous or bothered by my love life."

"I was being a good friend!" You chuckle when he rolls his eyes. "Besides, I had plenty to say about the girls you dated?"

He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear, still looking at you with a soft gaze, but his lips have twitched into a devastating smirk. "But you never said I could date you instead."

A blast of heat flushes your entire face at his words. Remember when you said he never flirted with you and you were grateful for that? Yeah, you still stand by that. Your heart's racing so fast, it's a wonder it hasn't malfunctioned yet. Yeonjun reads your face, too, and pecks your nose with a giggle .

"I'm so sorry it took me so long to figure it out, baby," he then whispers to you, sounding so forlorn that the sound of his voice, especially with that pet name, makes you wanna cry again. "I should've realized you were jealous…"

"I'm sorry, too, Jjun," you whisper back, hands coming up to play with the drawstrings of his hoodie that your eyes focus on as well, suddenly hesitant to meet his open gaze. "I wasn't careful about my words and hurt you. I was a bad friend."

He chuckles at that, which draws your eyes back to his own again. "To be honest, I was more hurt because your words made me conclude that you would never like me back. So you literally don't have to apologize at all."

A smile blooms on your face. "Can I kiss it better, then?"

"Oh, you can always kiss it better, baby." Teeth flashing and eyes squinting, Yeonjun nuzzles into your neck, full of giggles that you mirror as well.

Right then, a call of your name resounds across the locker rooms.

Wait…

Fuck.

Changbin!

Yeonjun's wide eyes look at you with questions. You just sigh and shrug your shoulders.

"Back here, Bin!"

"Bin?" Yeonjun raises an eyebrow with his eyes narrowed, making you stifle a giggle.

"Should I try Binnie, then?" 

He gasps in outrage, threatening to bite into your cheek, while you lean away to escape him, still suppressing your laughter.

Footsteps echo across the hall before a gasp is heard at the end of the aisle you're seated next to. Changbin stands rooted to his place, mouth agape and eyes wide. You've corrected yourself in your seat, but – your seat's still kinda Yeonjun's lap.

"I… um?"

You purse your lips in apology. "I'm sorry, Bin. I can't accept your jersey."

"I… can see that, I guess…"

To his credit, Changbin doesn't look a lot upset. Just very confused. You decide to try and help him.

"I can, however, get you Song Yuqi's number if you want?"

Instant fireworks explode in his eyes. "What? The – the cheer captain, Song Yuqi?"

"Mm hm. Cheer captain, my friend, my roommate. You know, the one."

"Wow, Y/N, that'd be so cool, man! Thank you!"

And then Changbin's hopping his way out of there without another word. Yeonjun breaks into laughter the moment he's out of sight.

"Poor guy kept asking me if it was okay to approach you and I kept saying we're just friends. He must be so confused, right now…"

You look at the boy who's still cradling you in his lap. "So. We're not just friends anymore, I hope."

He tightens his grip around your waist, eyes doing that thing where they switch from being rounded to suddenly narrowed and intense. "That depends. Do you kiss your just friends like that?"

You nudge his nose with your own, heart thumping at the intensity of his dark eyes and the reality of your changing dynamics with him. "Only the ones I intend to do more with."

Yeonjun's eyes widen in surprise and then narrow further with mischief. "Is that so, baby? Well, how about I take you to a nice dinner date tonight and then we can discuss what more can happen later, hm?"

"I'd like that very, very much." Swallowing past the lump of emotions that suddenly lodges in your throat, you bite your bottom lip and smile. 

He smiles back, but then brings a thumb up to tug your lip free. "Don't bite your lip, baby. You've got me to do that for you, now."

And then he kisses you again.

© yeonboy 2023 // do not steal, copy or repost. respect your local content creators, kaythanks.

[lanadelnegan]

Tattoo

Pre-apocalypse!Negan x Reader (Negan is y/n's art teacher & also owns a tattoo shop).

Warnings: THIS IS THE FILTHIEST THING I'VE WRITTEN SO FAR and it's just going to get filthier from here on. smut, forbidden love, age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 38), angst, oral (female receiving), lots of sexual tension, slow burnnnn.(there's an actual plot this time), vaginal sex, public sex, breeding, slight daddy kink

Summary: After graduating and leaving behind the man she fell for but couldn't have, y/n decides to get a tattoo that reminds her of him. And he gives it to her.

A/n: ugh, this had me in my feels. A "hard to get" teacher Negan. basically you're negan's former student and he gives you a tattoo and things.. well - just read it.

"Well damn. I don't mean to be sentimental, but I have seriously enjoyed teaching you little shits. I hope you can take what you've learned and apply it to something. Be creative. Oh, and.. don't think about hitting me up on Instagram after this because I don't do social media. That shit is toxic. Remember that, kids."

The bell cuts Negan off before he can finish his inspirational speech. He's always had such a way with words.. should have been an English teacher instead.

Most of the students rush out like the room is on fire, with the exception of a few annoying girls that think he'll jump their bones now that school is out.

"So, Mr. Smith, since you don't have social media, can I get your number at least?" I cringe as she twirls her hair around her finger and her friends giggle obnoxiously behind her.

"Girls. Behave for once. A tip for college? Don't flirt with your professors." He warns while motioning them out the door.

I suddenly realize that my ass has been glued to my seat this entire time and I'm the only one still here. I quickly get up and throw my backpack over one shoulder. He stares at me from the doorway but I just look down as I walk towards him.

"Bye Mr. Smith."

"Nice try. Sit down." He shuts his door and walks back into the room pointing towards my chair for me to sit.

"Mr. Smith, y/n?" He mocks. "Seriously?"

I never call him that. He's always been Negan to me.

I've known him for 4 years now. He's the only art teacher at Alexandria High, and even though I have no interest in art, I've taken his class every year because I do have an interest.. in him.

What he doesn't know is that I've been making mental notes everyday for the past four years about all his interests, personal life, hobbies, you name it.

He loves the color red - because it's the only color expo marker he writes in.

His favorite lunch is two cigarettes and coke zero. I hate that he smokes.

He stopped coaching baseball last year because he said he didn't have time anymore. But I think it's actually because he's never cared for it to begin with.

He had a wife, but she passed away. Some kind of cancer. She's still his computer wallpaper, which tells me he still hasn't moved on even though it was six years ago. My heart hurts for him.

He wasn't lying - he doesn't have social media....I would have found it.

He sits at another student's desk right next to mine with his body facing me.

"You gonna tell me why the hell you look like your best fucking friend just died?"

I stare at the floor next to his shoes and try to think about anything other than fact that I'm never going to see him again.

"Look at me."

I slowly lift my eyes to his and can't stop the tear that escapes the second I see his face.

"Ah, shit." His expression turns serious when he notices my tears. "Look, kid. I -"

"Stop calling me kid." I snap.

He chuckles. "Hate to break it to ya y/n, but you are very much a kid in my eyes, which is why this thing -" he motions his hand towards me. "this.. crush you have on me - has to end today."

My eyes widen as I stare at him speechless. He seriously did not just assume I have a crush on him.

"Did you jus - You seriously think just because a few stupid girls want to get in your pants, it means everyone does?" I scoff. "Unbelievable. You're my teacher. I don't have a crush on you."

He laughs as if we both know I'm lying - which I am.

"Alright, I'm sorry I called you a kid. Now, you wanna tell me what's wrong?"

"It's just I - I'm gonna miss you." I instantly regret saying it.

He nods and looks at the floor, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"I'm sorry. I - I'm just gonna go." I get up to leave, leaving my heart with him. My stomach twists in a knot when I realize he isn't getting up to stop me.

Why would he?

Once I'm in the hall, I turn to take one last look at him. He's bent over with his hands through his hair as if his best friend just died.

Negan's POV: That fucking girl. In my twelve years of teaching, I've never cared about a student like I do her. I care about all of my students, but goddamn it, she's had me wrapped around her finger for longer than I'm comfortable to admit - And I never will. She fucking sucks at hiding her feelings. I knew from the first day she walked into my class that she wanted to jump on my dick. Hell, every girl does. But other girls bat their fake eyelashes at me and tell me how they feel. Y/n.. she's.. obsessed with me. She thinks I didn't notice her doodling my name in her notebook with little hearts. Or that I don't hear her whispering to her friends about the dreams she has about me. Or how she stares at me during lectures like she's on a different planet. And if that's not enough, the girl hates art. Yet she's chosen it as her elective every single year. She has straight A's in every class, but doesn't even try in mine. And yet.. my dumb ass still passed her with an A. Maybe because I'm obsessed with her too.

Back to Y/n's POV:

I cried on the way home that day.

While everyone else celebrated school ending with a party, I stayed in my room and cried while looking at his photo in the yearbook.

While everyone walked across the stage at graduation, my diploma came in the mail and I stayed home holding Negan's lucky baseball bat that he gave me last year.

My last day of junior year, I stayed after school to help Negan clean out his classroom so he could move into a bigger art room. That was the year he quit coaching. I replay the memory in my head more often than I should..

"Why do you have this bat just sitting in the corner?" "It brings me good luck. I hit a home run every game my senior year with that bat." "Your senior year? This bat is that old?!" "Watch it, kid." He rolls his eyes and throws some folders in a bin. "Hmm." I study the bat. "I could use some luck." "Keep it." I look at him confused. "But... it's your-" "I want you to have it." He cuts me off. "Are - Are you sure?" He sighs frustrated. "Do you not want it?" "Well, I mean, I do but -" "Then stop being stubborn and take it."

Ever since that day, his bat has been leaned up against the wall by my bed as a constant reminder of the man I want but can never have.

After a few weeks of feeling sorry for myself, my best friend tried convincing me to do something for myself since my birthday was coming up.

"Y/n, you should.. get your nails done, go buy some new clothes, do.. something. But you need to get out of that room. It's... depressing."

"I think I want a tattoo."

"Oh, okay, yeah. That's a good idea. What are you wanting to get?" She asks from the other end of the phone.

"I dunno." My eyes drift towards the bat. "Something meaningful."

The next day...

Lucille's

The tattoo shop sign reads. I swing the door open, excited for the first time in a month. The sound of tattoo guns and rock music fills the lobby.

"Hey, welcome to Lucille's. Do you have an idea of what you'd like or do you want to see some of our work?" The woman on the other side of the counter pulls out a binder.

"Oh, no, I think I know what I want already." I smile and pull up the picture on my phone before showing her.

"Okay, we can do that. Shouldn't take too long either. An hour tops. I can actually take you now in room 3." The so-called "rooms" aren't actually rooms, but rather closed off sections with tall walls on each side. From where I'm standing, I can't see the people in the tattoo chair, but I can see the top of the tattoo artists' heads if I stand on my tippy-toes.

She leads me to room 3 and I sit in the chair while she gets out the instruments.

"This your first tattoo?"

"Yeah, kinda nervous."

She smiles. "I'd tell you not to worry, but, sorry babe. It's gonna hurt."

I appreciate her honesty and just smile back at her.

"So, where do we want it?" she holds the printed off picture off of the tattoo I want.

I lean back in the chair, putting my legs up, so I'm laying down. I lift my shirt up right above my belly button and slightly pull my shorts down, revealing my pubic bone. "Right here." I point to the left side of where my panty line would be but lower.

After I confirm the placement, she presses the needle to my skin and I bite my bottom lip at the sudden pain that radiates throughout my hip.

"Breathe, babe. You got this."

After a couple seconds, she turns in her chair to load more ink into the gun.

"Y/n?" I hear from the entrance behind me.

I know that voice without turning to look. My eyes widen and the girl tattooing me looks at him.

"Hey boss, you two know each other?" She looks between the two of us.

I look back at him and see him nod at her. "I'll finish her up, Ruby. Thanks." He takes the tattoo gun from her and sits in her chair when she gets up to leave. The scent of leather and cigarettes fills the small room and I realize how much I missed it.

He pauses when he looks down at my skin and I can't tell if he's staring because of my tattoo of choice or because I'm almost completely exposed. If I didn't just shave, half of my pubic hair would be on display to him.

The way he's looking at my skin wakes the butterflies in my stomach and I have to mentally tell myself not to clench my legs together. He looks up at me through heavy eyelids and for the first time in four years, I'm unable to read him. I can't tell if he's disappointed, mad... or turned on...?

He looks back at the tattoo and shakes his head, sighing.

Okay, it's definitely a look of disappointment.

"You realize I have to finish this now that she's already started it, right?" He studies the lines already permanently marked in my skin. The faint purple lines of where the sticker was placed give away the complete outline of what the tattoo will be. "There's still time to change it though."

"What? What do you mean.. change it? I want this one."

"No." Is all he says and my eyes widen in shock at him.

"You can't tell me what to do Negan. I'm an adult, and I'm getting it."

"Why?" He snaps, frustration dripping from his tone.

He looks into my eyes for the first time since he's been in the room and the butterflies in my stomach have now gone wild.

"Because I... I want a piece of you with me always."

He closes his eyes and drops his head. My eyes start to water but I hold them back the best I can.

"Y/n." He shakes his head but to my surprise, he hesitantly places his left hand on my thigh, his fingers dangerously close to the spot I've imagined him touching a million times. The feel of his rough fingers on my bare skin ignites a flame in me I didn't know existed and all I do is stare at his hand.

"Relax." He rolls his eyes and starts the gun. He leans down closer and begins tattooing me.

I have to bite back the moan threatening to escape my lips. With Ruby.. it hurt. But with Negan, it.. almost feels good.

He glances up at me as if he can hear my thoughts and then goes back to gliding a straight line of ink across my skin.

The next few moments are spent in silence, with nothing but the sounds of the tattoo gun and music playing in the distance.

"Fuck, y/n. I'm gonna need these off so I can get to you better." He gestures at my shorts.

My eyes widen but I nod and slide them off, barely breathing now that I'm laying in front of Negan in just my underwear. The way his jaw ticks when he sees that I'm wearing red lace panties doesn't go unnoticed. His favorite color.

He places his hand back on my leg, this time with his fingers completely against my inner thigh. I slightly part my legs without thinking and he pauses to glance at me before continuing with the tattoo.

If he moved his finger half an inch upwards, he would be touching me.

"I never knew you worked at a tattoo shop." I break the silence, hoping to get my mind off his hand.

He chuckles. "I own it, darlin'. And there's a lot you don't know about me."

Another long pause happens before he speaks first this time.

"Why did you take art, y/n?"

"Uh.. I dunno, because I liked it."

He huffs out a laugh. "You liked it... or me?"

I shrug. "Both."

His face turns serious again and he stops the tattoo gun. "All done."

He backs away and motions for me to stand up and look in the mirror in the corner. I stand in front of it, but don't even notice my tattoo because my eyes catch Negan in the mirror staring at my ass. These panties don't leave much to the imagination and my cheeks redden at how much I'm exposed to him.

He suddenly looks up and makes eye contact with me in the mirror. His eyes are darker than usual and filled with lust.

"Come here." He demands and I obey, walking towards him.

Once I'm standing in front of him, he lifts his hands to grab my hips. My belly button is eye level to him and I look down, watching him intensely. His thumbs dig into my hips and he looks at the tattoo.

"Do you like it?" I ask him.

He ignores me and it makes my heart break a little more. "Lay back down, y/n." He gets up to pull the curtain over the entrance of the room.

I do as he says and he comes back, placing a clear tape bandage over the fresh tattoo.

He looks as if he's deep in thought before suddenly sliding his hands underneath my thighs and pulling me closer to him. He pushes my leg aside and rests my other foot in his lap until my legs are completely spread apart in front of him.

"You want me to touch you, y/n? Is that what you want?"

"Yes.."

"Tell me what you want, baby."

"Your mouth."

He chuckles darkly and kisses the inside of my thigh before sliding his fingers under my panties and ripping them apart.

He shoves them in the back of his jean pocket and wraps his arms around my thighs, holding my stomach down with his hands and leaning his head down closer.

"Look at this pretty pussy, baby. So wet for me you're glistening."

His eyes look up at me right before he licks me and my head falls back with pleasure.

He stops suddenly. "Eyes on me, darlin'. How many times have you imagined me between your legs? You're going to watch me eat this pussy, y/n."

I nod, looking at him and he continues. The sound of other people talking in the distance makes my senses even more heightened.

He licks me again, pressing his tongue into me harder this time. He moans as he stops at my clit and gently sucks it into his mouth. I moan and watch him as he looks like he's eating the best meal he's ever had.

"You taste even better than I imagined, baby."

"You.. imagined it?"

"Baby. You aren't the only one who daydreams in class." He says before dipping his tongue deep inside me.

He switches back and forth between licking me and sucking me until my moans get louder and faster.

"Negan, I'm gonna.."

"I know baby, give it to me." He rubs me with his tongue faster until I'm coming apart. His hand quickly covers my mouth and I cry out into his hand.

"Fuck, doll." He groans and adjusts himself through his jeans. "This pussy is about to make me cum in my pants like I'm a fucking teenager again."

"Negan.." I say out of breath. "I wanna touch you. Please."

He stands and picks up my shorts, but not before I see the huge bulge in his pants. He helps me put my shorts on and I look at him confused when he doesn't say anything.

"Nega-"

"No, y/n."

My eyes water with tears as I stand to finish pulling my shorts up. "I - I don't understand."

"This can't happen, baby. I shouldn't have touched you."

I nod. "So that's it, Negan? You get what you want and that's it.. you're just.. done with me?"

"Are you fucking serious? You think I got what I wanted? I'm standing here with a hard-on that's gonna give me a giant case of blue balls. Any other man would throw you on this table and take you right here."

"Then why don't you?!"

"Because I fucking.. I care about you. You happy now? I fucking CARE ABOUT YOU, y/n. And I'm not going to break your heart."

I wipe a tear that runs down my cheek. "You already did." I grab my purse and rush out of the room, stopping in front of Ruby on the way out and pulling out some cash.

"I'm sorry hun." She says empathetically as if she heard everything that just happened.

I cry harder and lay the cash down before leaving and walking to my car. Before I can open my car door, Negan is grabbing my arm and turning me around to face him.

"Goddamn it, listen to me!"

I don't fight him, I just stare at him, noting the hurt in his eyes. My heart hurts and I suddenly feel guilty for making him feel any ounce of pain.

"Y/n.. look.."

"No." I cut him off. "Negan, I'm sorry. This is my fault.. I put you in this situation because I was selfish.. and delusional. I'm so sorry. I'll leave, and you won't have to hear from me or see me again."

He scoffs. "You think that's what I want? I guess you don't know me the way I thought you did."

Before I can say anything else, he crashes his lips to mine and kisses me so hard and but so softly at the same time. His fingers slip through my hair and his hand rests on the back of my neck as he deepens our kiss.

"You're gonna be the death of me, kid."

I bite his lip hard when he calls me kid and our kiss goes from passionate to animalistic. He presses himself flat against me with my back against my car and I feel his hard cock straining against his jeans. His lips travel to my neck and he bites me hard, right before kissing and sucking the sensitive spot.

That's definitely going to leave a mark.

"You have no clue what you do to me, baby." He says in between kisses. His voice is raspier and deeper than usual. "Do you have any idea how many times I've left work and had to rub one out at the thought of you? Hell, sometimes even at work."

I look around the parking lot. It's nighttime but we're still clearly visible in the lights.

"Look at me, y/n. Forget where we are and just focus on me baby." His hand slips into my shorts and it takes him no time to find my soaked entrance since my panties are currently in his back pocket.

"Negan.." I breathe.

He smiles against my lips. "Baby.. You sure this is what you want? Because once I've had you, you're mine."

I nod and he puts his mouth next to my ear.

"Take your shorts off. Now." He pulls his hand from my shorts and sucks my juices off his fingers.

"But, Negan, we're-"

"I said, now y/n. You want me so bad, you're gonna get me wherever and however I say. Now, take your fucking shorts off before I rip them too."

I hesitantly slide my shorts off while looking around again. There aren't any other cars in the parking lot other than a couple of his employees. All the customers left. There's a main road up ahead but we're far enough away where they wouldn't see us unless they we're staring really hard.

"Good girl. Now take my cock out, baby."

He leans his hands against my car on either side of me, trapping me in. I waste no time reaching for the button on his jeans and unzipping him before pulling out his hard, huge cock. It's bigger than I imagined.. a lot bigger. I don't know how that thing is going to even fit in me. He's so hard that the veins in his cock look like they are about to erupt and his tip is already dripping with precum.

I can't help but run my thumb over the tip to collect some and bring it to my mouth to taste him. His eyes darken with lust at the sight of me sucking his precum off my finger.

"Taste good, doll?"

I nod and he chuckles. "There's a lot more where that came from."

He grips the back of my thigh with his hand and pulls my right leg around his waist.

The feeling of his dick rubbing against my wet pussy is enough to make my knees weak. Literally. I almost collapse at the sensation of him rubbing the head against my opening, teasing me. He presses his body closer to me in attempt to hold me up.

"Fuck, look at this dripping pussy." He looks down between us, admiring the view of his cock teasing my wet slit. "It's about to be dripping with my cum in a few minutes.. You ready for me, baby?"

"Yes, please. I need you."

He enters me completely in one swift motion, not giving me anytime to adjust. My walls are stretched further than they've ever been and it feels like the tip of him is buried up to my stomach.

He doesn't move for a moment, but instead looks into my eyes with his cock all the way inside of me. "There you go, baby. Finally getting what you wanted after all these years and taking my dick like a champ."

"Negan.." I moan. "Please.. just fuck me."

He pulls out of me almost completely before slowly pushing himself back in, agonizingly slow. Our bodies are flush against each other and he kisses me again.

"Fuck, baby." He growls. "You. Feel. So. Fucking GOOD." He says between thrusts as my mouth falls open.

I wrap my arms around his neck to hold myself up and lean against him with my lips pressed against his neck. I take the opportunity to mark him back, grabbing his skin between my teeth and sucking hard. He moans so loud that I glance around to make sure no one heard him, but we're still alone.

His thrusts get harder and faster and the sounds coming from his sexy mouth are enough alone to make me cum.

"Look at me, y/n. I want to see your face when you cum all over my cock."

His hand that was on the car behind me slides between us, instantly finding my clit. He begins rubbing circles on it with his middle finger while thrusting his hips into me faster.

I look into his eyes while my arms are still wrapped around his shoulders tightly, keeping me in place. My fingers run through his dark hair and my breathing goes erratic as I feel myself come undone around him.

"You want me to fill you up, baby? You want daddy's cum?"

I nod quickly as tears run down my cheeks from the most intense orgasm I've ever had.

"FUCK, baby." He groans and slams his mouth against mine. I kiss him back as he rides out his orgasm.

He pulls out of me slowly and softly kisses my lips one more time. I go to put my shorts on and he stops me.

"Not so fast, doll." He gets down on his knees in front of me, pushing my legs apart in front of him. "Push daddy's cum out baby. Let me see it drip out of you."

I do as he says and the feeling of his warm seed running down my legs is almost enough to send me over the edge again.

"Look. At. THAT." He swipes up some of his cum from my leg onto his finger and stands back up but not before gently kissing my new tattoo.

I think I love this man.

He rubs his finger along my lips until my mouth opens for him. I suck his fingers clean and moan at the taste of him.

"Y/n." He pushes my hair behind my ear and looks at me seriously. "I meant it when I said I care about you."

"You care about all your students."

"Yeah, but I don't go sticking my dick in them." He smirks and takes my hand, leading me back into the shop.

The others must have already left when - when.. oh.. shit.

"Negan, do you think they saw us?!"

"Well darlin', I was fucking your brains out right next to the door, so I think it's probably safe to assume so." He grins and my eyes widen with horror.

"Do you not care?"

"What can they do, doll? Fire me?" He laughs and leads me to the back where his office is.

"What are we doing in here?"

"Getting matching tattoos, of course."

I stare at him, trying to register what he just said. "You're.. going to give yourself a tattoo?"

He chuckles and hands me a tattoo gun before taking off his shirt and sitting on the couch in the corner.

"No, doll, you are."

Part 2 here

[red-viewe]

general lilia x reader thoughts 🔫 (part three 👌)

COLORED LETTERS IS FAE LANGUAGE, (tw swearing)

Part 2 part 1

"Please pay attention to me, your grace~" a young lady says as she touches Lilia seductively, before he pushes her away and walks away, rolling his eyes.

'Ew.'

"C'mon, Duke! Look alive! You're the famous general, you should enjoy the fame!" A soldier playfuly shouts, as the party gets louder and louder.

The war has finally ended after 3 years, peace taking over both sides of the war. The borders are open, and many expected years of prosperity and peace.

'3 years since I've seen them, 3 years since I've felt their warmth.' Lilia sighs, massaging his temples.

'Just a few more days until i see them.

Just a few more days....'

----

"Y/n, my love and life, please take this ring and marry m-"

"Absolutely not." You slam the door, annoyed. It's been 3 years since Lilia left, and the war ended, meaning that men and women are coming back home to see their families, some looking to start one. As a hot asf, unmarried, somewhat financially stable person, you were expected to be popular among the marriage market in both women and men.

'Dude, i did not know i had this much game.' You thought, peeking out the window to see a line of people waiting at your door. 'WTF I DON'T KNOW HALF THESE PEOPLE. IT'S LITERALLY 3 IN THE MORNING. '

Sighing, you quickly pulled out a peice of paper, writing in bold, thick letters, 'NOT ACCEPTING MARRIAGE PROPOSALS' and stuck it onto the window.

'What if he forgot about me? Should i just give up on waiting?' Fuck no. Why would you do that to lilia?

'Genuinely fuck this shit.' You sighed, going back to sleep.

-----

'Knock knock knock'

'Ugh, dude i swear, if it's another suitor I'm moving.'

You slowly walk to the door, opening the door.

"I said no more suitors! Read the god damn sign!" You say, annoyed, looking up to see a man with long, black hair with red highlights. You slam the door, and go to walk back to your room.

'Wait.' You pause to think. (For once)

Long black hair with red- OMG YOU JUST SLAMED THE DOOR ON LILIA.

You rush back to the door, now fully awake and quickly open the door.

"LIlia!" You jump to hug the fae, his eyes widened at the sudden embrace.

"Beastie! I thought you forgot who i was. How mean of you to slam the door on your love." He hugs you back, pouting and nuzzling his face into your neck with warm cheeks.

"W-we don't talk about that..." You look away, embarrassed.

"Pft, it's quite alright, my love." He pulls you in for a soft, deep kiss. "So I hear you had many suitors, hmm? Planning to marry someone who's not me?" Lilia smirks, pulling away to cup your cheek.

"I swear i can explain-"

-----

"And thats how me and your mother/father met snd fell in love." Lilia giggles at the memory, "Ahh, young love." A young silver haired boy looks at his father, now filled with questions.

"But father, but isn't y/n a human? How can they live so l"ong? Also, what happened to all the suitors? And the bar?"

"Hmm, now now, silver, that's too complicated for your young mind to understand. I shall tell you when you are of age." Lilia smiles, as he rocks the boy to sleep.

"Everytime you tell that story, Silver always ends uo falling asleep." You walk in, taking Silver from Lilia's arms to transfer him to his spiderbat bed.

"It's our love story dear, I'll tell it again and again untill the whole world knows how we fell in love."

"You're lucky I love you, you cheeky bat." You pout, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

"I love you too, beastie."

----

Authors notes :D

I THOUGHT I PUBLISHED THIS BEFORE GOING CAMPING IM SO SRRY

Also this is probably the end of the general lilia x read thoughts series, but I'll definitely be making more stories on other characters and lilia.

Also if you guys want side stories on this series lmk(Requests r always open btw GIMMIE UR IDEAS)

(Taggies: (SRRY IF UR TAG DIDNT WORK) @rainingdandelion @rincommittedarsin

@ayachansan @sugarkitty839 @oogly-oogly @rainbowcake1212 @kitsune25 @ninjalizards

@thi3u @nico707 @mistuna @otomyoli @syndyj @ftyaftya @secret-potion @cottage-clockwork @raaawwwr

[sighed-the-snake]

At what age does it become intolerable to participate in online fandom?

At what age do you start telling people they're too old to be in a public fandom space because it skews young?

I have been online since the literal beginning of the internet. I've been in chatrooms in one form or another for my entire life, without issue, without anyone telling me I don't belong there. It has been my primary mode of socialization since I was 14. Some of the most important people in my life are people I met online.

But then I turned 40 and suddenly, my presence in a chatroom is creepy.

It wasn't creepy when I was 35 and I was the admin for a huge Discord server full of mostly teens and 20-somethings. Nobody complained when I was 35. They called me their server mom.

But 40 is apparently the limit. I tried to join a few public Discord servers last year and was politely shooed away each time because I was honest about my age.

The obvious solution would be to find spaces with people my own age, right? Except those don't really exist. If it's a fandom space, the overwhelming majority of people are going to be teens, 20-somethings, and a small population of younger 30-somethings. Those are the people who are talking about the things I also would like to talk about.

Even the people I follow here on Tumblr are mostly in their 20s.

There is not much of an online peer group for older Millennials and Gen X. I found and tried some non-fandom, general servers, and they were desolate and stale. A lot of us grew up without computers at home, barely even had computers at school, so the internet never really became a big part of our lives beyond things like Facebook, or Twitter, or discussion boards. Things you spend a few minutes looking over before bed.

But I don't want those things. Tumblr has been great, the Good Omens fandom has been amazing, but I don't want to check throughout the day if someone has replied to something I said hours or days or weeks ago, I want to talk to people, but those places are populated by an age group who tells me it's not appropriate for me to be there anymore.

It's so damn frustrating and lonely. I didn't do anything wrong. I'm not doing anything wrong. I just got older.

I'm just a married gay woman with a kid in school who wants to giggle over an angel and a demon and how in love and stupid they are. I feel like it shouldn't be this hard.

[queenshelby]

An Illicit Affair

Part 48: A Proper Proposal

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (47) x Reader (24)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

Please comment and engage it means a lot to me and keeps me motivated 😇

Almost eight weeks later, the evening before Cillian's birthday, and at your new and still somewhat empty house in one of London's suburbs, Cillian did exactly that. He proposed to you, properly and in a traditional sense.

Cillian had it all planned and when you arrived at home after stressful day at work, you were surprised when you saw your living room  fully decorated with candles, flowers, and an elaborate dinner setting.

At the end of the room, right in front of the fireplace, Cillian had prepared a pathway made out of red rose petals, his way of guiding you towards him.

The sight alone took your breath away and you couldn't help but put a hand on your slightly rounding belly as you took it all in.

Walking slowly towards him, you couldn't help but feel your eyes welling up with tears. This was so cliche, but also so God damn beautiful and you knew what was coming next. 

"What on earth is all this?" you giggled, blushing slightly as you looked into Cillian's affectionate gaze.

"Well, you said you wanted a real fucking proposal, so here it is," he chuckled softly, causing you to blush even more. 

"But this is so over the top, Cills," you chuckled yourself, shaking your head at him.

Cillian grinned, "I know. I may have gone a little overboard. But it's worth it, just to see that look on your face," he replied, gesturing to your slightly teary eyes.

You swooned a little as he pulled you towards him and dropped onto one knee, holding a small black box in one of his hands. 

"Y/N, I've loved you since the first moment I saw you standing in my doorway in Dublin. I've known that you've been 'the one' for me almost since then and I can't imagine my life without you.  I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Y/N. I want to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep with you every night. I want to experience all of life's joys and sorrows with you by my side. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

You felt tears streaming down your cheeks as you nodded your head, unable to speak for a moment. Cillian looked up at you with a mixture of hope and love, and when you finally found your voice, it came out in a soft and trembling whisper.

"Yes, Cillian. A thousand times yes."

With those words, a silent cheer exploded within your chest, as your eyes welled up with tears. Cillian's expression immediately softened, and he let out a sigh of relief before carefully opening the black box in his hand. There it was, a pear-shaped princess cut diamond ring with six smaller diamonds on either side. The ring was absolutely stunning, and you couldn't help but gasp as Cillian slipped it onto your finger.

It fit perfectly, like it was meant to be there all along.

"Oh, Cillian, it's beautiful," you murmured, your voice thick with emotion as you looked at him. He smiled up at you, his eyes shining with love and happiness.

"I'm glad you like it," he replied, rising to his feet and pulling you into a warm embrace.

"You make me so happy, Y/N," he whispered against your ear, causing you to shiver with delight.

You hugged him back tightly, feeling like you had finally found your forever home in his arms. "I love you, Cillian," you murmured, your voice tinged with emotion.

He gently leaned back, his hands cradling your face as he looked deeply into your eyes. 

"I love you too,"  he replied, before capturing your lips in a soft and tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with love, hope, and promise for the future.

Cillian then pulled away slightly and looked down on you, marveling at your round belly , smiling lovingly.

"You look more and more beautiful each day," Cillian whispered, leaning down, planting soft kisses on your stomach.

"Stop Cillian. I am still wearing my scrubs," you chuckled, seeing how you had been working all day.

"I know, I should save that for later," he agreed before raising to his feet again and placing a chaste kiss on your forehead, which was as comforting and as loving as any intimate moment shared between the two of you.

Cillian then leaned back, and looked into your eyes affectionately. "Why don't you go have a shower, freshen up while I finish cooking dinner?" he suggested warmly.

You nodded and kissed him lightly on the lips before making your way upstairs to the bathroom. 

Inside the shower, you marveled about how you got here, to this stage of your life, so soon and with a man who was not only significantly older than you but who was also your ex's father.

You were happy, even if the circumstances of your relationship were less than ideal. You and Cillian loved each other deeply, and you were going to spend the rest of your lives together.

And yet, you were worried about how his son Max would take all this. The pregnancy and the engagement would likely be devastating to him and whilst Cillian had many attempts to meet up with him and tell him about the fact that he would become a big brother soon, Max refused to see his father.

As such, you were already thirty weeks along and he did not know yet. But you also knew that time was running out. You knew that, with you showing, he would learn about your pregnancy sooner rather than later and you worried what this might do to him, and to Cillian and his already strained relationship with his son.  Thirty weeks had gone by fast and you could feel your belly growing more and more round each day. It was now obvious for all to see whenever you ventured out in public.

You smiled as you thought of the little life inside you. This was Cillian's and your child, and the thought of finally holding it in your arms excited you.

You knew that Max might not be happy about all of this, but hopefully he would come around eventually.

You hoped that your pregnancy would be the catalyst that would help the father and son reconnect, but deep down you feared the opposite.

You sighed and pushed those thoughts away, focusing instead on the joy that this little one brought into your life. As you finished up your shower and got dressed in a warm, cozy sweater and leggings, you marveled at the fact that you were creating a life within you. A life that would be half Cillian, half yours.

You made your way back downstairs, your nose picking up the scent of freshly cooked pasta.

"Smells delicious," you remarked as you entered the kitchen, your eyes meeting Cillian's warm and affectionate gaze.

He grinned at you and gestured towards the table, which was beautifully set with candles and flowers. "I hope you like it. I made your favorite spaghetti," he said, watching as you took your seat.

You beamed at him, feeling the warmth in your chest spreading throughout your entire body. "This looks amazing," you enthused, your voice filled with excitement. "I've been craving this all day."

Cillian chuckled and took a seat beside you. "I'm glad you like it. I know how much you love carbs these days."

You laughed, your eyes sparkling with mirth. It was true, since you became pregnant, even unknowingly so, all you wanted to eat was pasta, bread and cake. "I can't help it Cills. I am eating for two after all," you  teased as you took a bite of the pasta, your eyes meeting Cillian's as you savored the taste.

Cillian chuckled as he walked past and leaned towards you, kissing your neck lightly as his hand wandered down until it rested on your rounded belly. "I love you, Y/N," he murmured, causing you to sigh in happiness.

You leaned against him, closing your eyes for a moment and feeling the warmth of his love wash over you. It was moments like these that reminded you why you fell in love with Cillian in the first place.

"O love you too, Cills. And I love your cooking!"  you replied, as you continued to eat while Cillian got himself a glass of wine.

Just as you both ate peacefully though there was a knock on the door, and you were curious as to who this may be. You were not expecting anyone but decided to get the door anyway.

"I will get it," you told Cillian who was still finishing his plate at the table.

"Okay," Cillian replied as he took a sip from his wine glass.

You walked towards the door, opening it curiously and standing there was a familiar face.

"Max?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, not expecting him at all.

"Hi Y/N," he said dryly. "I just wanted to drop off a birthday present for dad, because I am flying to Dublin tomorrow morning," he told you, not having taken in your appearance just yet. 

"Do you want to come in?" you asked, opening the door a bit further but, just as you did, Max's jaw dropped.

His eyes widened in shock as he took in your appearance, his gaze first landing on your belly and then on your face.

"You're pregnant," he said, his voice barely above a whisper and you nodded nervously, awaiting his reaction. 

"Oh my god you are fucking kidding, right?" he asked, his voice wavering as he seemed to struggle to comprehend the situation.

"Max," you simply stammered, feeling the tension rising in your chest as you faced his confusion, but he quickly shook his head.

Max's eyes went wide, and his mouth opened, but no words seemed to come out. He stood there frozen for a moment, as if waiting for the whole thing to be a huge joke.

"I can't believe this," he spat angrily then as if his trance had been broken , Max's face twisted into a mask of frustration and hurt.

With great difficulty, he moved toward you, his eyes dodging away as he tried to avoid looking too closely at your swollen belly just as Cillian emerged from the kitchen to greet his son. 

"You are a fucking gold digger after all, aren't you?" Max spat out angrily, causing you to recoil at the harshness of his words.

Cillian, who had just entered the room, froze in his tracks at the sight of his son standing in front of you. "Max, that's enough. You are out of line," Cillian said, his voice filled with anger and hurt. His eyes locked onto Max's, and you could feel the tension radiating between them.

"I am out of line dad? Seriously?" Max countered. "You are the one who knocked up my ex, and she probably fucking planned it too, but you are too blind to see it," he  continued, his voice filled with anger and resentment towards both Cillian and yourself.

Cillian's eyes narrowed, and his whole body tensed up as he took a step closer to his son. "I said, that's enough and I need you to leave if you can't calm down," Cillian snapped back, his Irish accent stronger than ever when he was angry.

"Hell yeah I am leaving. This is fucking disgusting. The both of you. I mean honestly. You both should be ashamed of yourself,"  Max finished, sneering at the two of you.

His words were like a punch to the gut, and you could feel tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to find the right words to say in response.

But Cillian beat you to it. "Get out of my house, Max," he growled, his voice low and full of anger. "We'll continue this conversation when you've calmed down and are ready to have a proper discussion." Max scoffed, but didn't say another word.

He simply turned around, leaving the room without so much as another glance at either of you. You could hear the door slamming shut behind him as he left the house, leaving you and Cillian in stunned silence.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

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[halsteadlover]

Under Fire

*Gif not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Paramedic!Reader.

• Requested by anon: Hey! Could you write an imagine where the reader is a paramedic and one day a person starts shooting at the ambo and Jay is called? Then he would be worried when he sees the reader there.

• Warnings: mention of sex, blood, gunshot, bad writing (yes it’s gonna be a warning from now on).

• Word count: 4289.

• A/N: this is by far one of the ugliest fics ever and honestly I’m even ashamed I posted it. It didn’t turn the way I wanted but I was too lazy and had no time to write it all again so here it is 💀 Sorry for the ppl who expected a good worried!Jay fic 😭 I’m sorry for any mistake too and of course I know all the ‘medical’ staff was probably inaccurate so pls bear with me lol

“Baby, breakfast is ready!”.

Jay's voice muffled to your ears from the kitchen as you hurriedly got ready for work, super late. You tied your hair into a ponytail, not wanting to waste any more time trying to fix it before running to the kitchen where Jay had just set breakfast on the table.

“I'm late honey I can't eat,” you said frantically, leaning closer to him and kissing him on the lips before stealing a waffle which you popped into your mouth and began to eat as you looked for your car keys.

“Babe you can't go to work without having breakfast,” Jay retorted as he drank his cup of coffee and watched you amused.

“Yeah? And whose fault is it that I’m late?” you asked ironically “Have you seen my keys baby? Damn it… I can't find them anywhere.”

Jay chuckled and there was no need to say he found them as soon as he started to search for them. He was about to hand them to you but suddenly put his hands behind his back. “I want a kiss first.”

You giggled like a little girl and placed your free hand on his face, kissing him passionately, as if it was the first time you'd seen him in ages. No matter how much time passed, Jay managed to have on you the same effect as the first day, and for a moment, lost in your senses, you almost forgot you had to run away to work.

“Mmmh,” he murmured into the kiss, intensifying it as his arm went around your waist, pressing your body further against his.

“Stop…” you muttered between kisses as you giggled “No,” one kiss “That’s not…” another kiss “Fair…” and yet another one. “You’ve already made me late this morning.”

“Baby it's not my fault you're so stunning. You know I can't keep my hands to myself,” he kept kissing you, taking the opportunity to shamelessly squeeze your ass. “You were naked in our bed, you really expected me not to fuck the shit out of you?”.

“Stop, you're making me hot again,” you placed your hands on his chest to push him away, receiving a frown from him. In a moment of distraction you grabbed the keys from his hand and took your bag, before giving him one last sweet kiss and go to the door “See you tonight baby, I love you. Be careful okay?”.

“I love you too princess, text me when you can and be careful too. Don't you even dare come back with even a scratch!”.

But unfortunately, things don’t always go the way we want them to.

Your morning was going well, you were on shift with Sylvie who wasted no time teasing you, between calls, about being late that morning.

“If you're jealous because I'm having hot sex and you're not, just say it blondie,” you retorted laughing, getting from your co-worker a little slap on the back of your head as she kept her eyes on the road while driving the ambo.

“You’re really a bitch you know that? Of course I'm jealous! Do you know how long it's been since I've been with someone? I don't even know what a penis looks like anymore.”

You giggled. “If after every shift you literally fly home to go to sleep, don't complain if you can't find anyone. You need to go out Sylvie, Molly's is always crowded, you'll find someone who can't wait to rail you.”

She burst out laughing. “Rail me? Where did this come from?”.

“I mean… You know… I didn't know the meaning of these words before I met my boyfriend…” you answered and Sylvie let out a fake gag while you dreamily recalled your intense sexual life with Jay.

“You are disgusting,” the blonde replied even though she laughed. Before she could add anything though, there was a call of a shooting with victim and the joyful and playful air disappeared almost instantly.

You were about to text Jay, updating him on the progress of your shift but you mentally cursed as you noticed your cell phone was dead and that’s when you remembered you didn't charge it last night.

You put it back in your pocket, mental noting you’d charge it as soon as you got back to the station.

When you and Sylvie arrived with sirens blaring at the scene where the shooting had taken place, you couldn't help but notice the amount of people there looking on curiously and trying to figure out what was going on. That neighborhood was not the most idyllic and safe, given the unfortunate presence of criminals and drug addicts, and you mentally prayed you could finish as soon as possible since you didn't feel at all calm in that place.

A man in his fifties came running towards you, cell phone in hand and a terrified expression on his face.

“What happened sir? Where’s the victim?” Sylvie asked as you fetched the first aid kit bags.

“This way. There's been a shooting… There's a young man… I don't know if he's still alive.”

The man pointed to a person lying on the ground, immersed in his own blood and at a rough guess he didn't seem to be more than 16 years old. He was just a little boy.

“We'll take care of it from now sir. Thank you for calling us. Now go back in your house and stay safe,” you said and he nodded before storming off and locking himself inside his house along with his family.

You put on your gloves and leaned over the victim. You checked his carotid pulse and breathing. “He’s breathing and there is still a pulse. But it's too weak.”

Sylvie lifted the victim's shirt, revealing the shotgun at stomach level, and spun him on his side for a moment. “There is an exit wound.”

“I'm putting an IV,” you stated before taking the necessary kit while Sylvie controlled the bleeding by dabbing the wound with clean gauze which was soaked in blood in no time. After placing the tourniquet, it was difficult to find an accessible vein due to the copious blood loss but eventually you succeeded.

As you continued to do everything in your power to keep the still unconscious patient alive, you didn't realize all passers-by had left and that a suspicious car was approaching until the sound of a shot broke the silence.

Your heart stopped for an instant.

It all happened so fast and in just few seconds that you didn't even realize what was happening.

It was all so fast but so slow at the same time.

Everything seemed to stop around you, the world started spinning fast and slow at the same time which you didn't even believe was possible. The seconds seemed to have turned into minutes, hours, and in you kept wondering when it would end.

You and Sylvie threw yourselves to cover the victim, but not before a bullet went through your arm causing you to scream in pain. “Fuck!” you exclaimed as an excruciating pain made you bend to the ground for an instant.

“Y/N! Oh my god!” exclaimed Sylvie, rushing towards you regardless of the danger. Your hand covered your wound from where blood gushed and you tried to take a few breaths to try to regain control of yourself. You hadn't been shot at before by now, but damn it hurt like hell.

“I'm fine,” you murmured and when you opened your eyes you saw a woman lying on the ground not far from you. “Shit… Sylvie, go to that woman…”

Sylvie glanced between you and the poor woman lying on the asphalt, not sure what to do. “I am fine. Go! I'll take care of it here!”.

She nodded and grabbed a first aid bag before running to the woman, leaving you with the still unconscious victim. You checked him to make sure he wasn't hit and breathed a sigh of relief when you saw he wasn't.

You called for help on your radio before getting up with no small effort, dragging the victim behind a car, thus keeping you sheltered.

Your heart was pounding and you didn't know what to do, the fear they'd come back to kill you paralyzed you. You leaned against the car, bringing your eyes to the wound on your arm and noticing you were losing more blood than you would’ve expected.

“Shit,” you winched in pain even if the adrenaline rushed through your veins. You decided not to think about it and just treat the patient until help arrived, after all you weren't going to die from a shot in an arm.

You got up from the car and approached the patient, noticing the movement of his chest was no longer regular and that he was struggling to breathe. You took your stethoscope and listened to his chest, hearing crackles and a muffled sound in the right lung.

“Damn it,” you whispered to yourself, taking deep breaths as the pain became more intense and trying to focus solely on the victim and not on the excruciating pain you were feeling. The victim had a pneumothorax and you knew if you didn't treat it right away, you ran the risk of losing him before help even arrived.

You took all the kit needed to aspirate the air from his lung but your hand was shaking too much to be able to proceed. “Come on. You can do it,” you kept telling yourself and breathing deeply. With no little effort you managed to make a small incision and insert the small catheter to allow the air to escape. You listened to his lungs again after a bit with the stethoscope and breathed a sigh of relief when you realized the pulmonary sound was good and he was breathing properly. You fixed the catheter to his chest with a plaster and continued to treat the wound on the abdomen.

He was losing too much blood and if he hadn't gone to the hospital immediately he would’ve died there in front of you.

Your forehead was drenched in sweat, your arms and body were giving up as you noticed in the distance Sylvie giving a CPR to the woman who had presumably also been shot.

You heard the sound of sirens of the police and of another ambulance in the distance and for the first time in the last half hour your heart started properly beating again.

Jay, meanwhile, didn't have a clue what was going on, that you'd been shot, rushed to the hospital, or he’d completely lose his mind.

His day, unlike yours, was going on normally and no new cases had turned up so he spent the morning sorting through paperwork and old reports that were still incomplete.

He checked his cell phone to see if you'd answered him but still nothing. The last time he knew about you was when he saw you walk out the door of the apartment you shared and he couldn't stop the veil of anxiety that had passed through him. He knew he was exaggerating, as you were most likely having a busy morning and for this reason you hadn’t reached out to him.

He tried to keep his mind at bay, to stay calm and tell himself everything would be fine, that you were okay and he’d hear from you soon.

But when he saw Sylvie's name on the screen as his cell phone rang, he knew immediately that something wasn’t right and the slight feeling of anxiety was replaced by a real vice in his stomach.

“Sylvie? What happened? Is my girlfriend okay?” he asked as soon as he answered the call, without even giving her time to say anything. He knew something was up and didn’t want to waist time.

“Jay…” she breathed out, her voice clearly shaking but Jay couldn't care less.

“Sylvie tell me immediately what the hell happened. Where’s Y/N? Is she okay?” he ordered in a harsh and hostile tone, more than he ever wanted to.

“We are at Med's and…”

That was all it took for him to go crazy and not understand anything anymore.

Before she could finish her sentence he had already hung up the phone and, without even notifying his boss, he exited the unit at lightning speed, under the gaze of his worried and astonished teammates.

His mind kept repeating the last words spoken by Sylvie and never as in that moment did he feel like the world completely collapsed on him. He hadn't even asked what happened, whether you were okay or not, and as he drove like a madman through the streets of Chicago, he kept praying, praying and praying.

“God please let her be okay,” he kept muttering to himself, his heart pounding so hard in his chest he felt like it was going to stop at any moment. He tried to call you several times but each time it directed him to your voicemail. “Fuck!” he had exclaimed hitting the steering wheel in frustration and after throwing the cell phone on the passenger seat, without caring whether it broke or not.

You had to be okay, it couldn't have been otherwise. You had to be okay because you had to spend the rest of your life with him, he had to marry you, start a family with you, raise your children, maybe have pets, and to do that you had to feel good.

Jay knew that your job, as well as his, could be dangerous, but that didn't make the anxiety any less oppressive, the fear of losing you any less crippling.

It might seem like an exaggeration but he couldn't live without you, he couldn't imagine a life in which you weren't there, he couldn't imagine coming home and not finding you there preparing dinner with so much care and love, he couldn't imagine coming home and not finding you walking barefoot, the music blasting while you danced and sang as you cleaned the house, he couldn't imagine waking up in the morning and not feeling your body against his, the scent of your hair entering his nostrils, your arms holding him preventing him from getting up to go to work when you weren't on shift.

“No, no, no, no, no,” he babbled not wanting to even think about this possibility as he darted through the streets without even bothering to stop at red lights and risking causing accidents at least a couple of times.

When he got to the hospital he immediately ran towards the nurses' station, failing even to realize that Maggie was already talking to a patient.

“Maggie where is Y/N? Is she fine?” he asked frantically getting a glare from the gentleman who was previously talking to Maggie. She shot an apologetic look at the man and nodded to the room you were in before giving her attention back to the patient.

Jay ran towards the room and without even thinking twice pulled the curtain away, an expression of pure fear and concern on his face. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw you were lying on the crib, alive.

“Jay!” you exclaimed, not expecting to find your boyfriend in front of you in the hospital, lifting yourself up as if to reach him.

“Y/N stay still,” Connor admonished you, who was tending your wound.

“Oh thank God,” Jay finally managed to calm down and finally breathe again. He walked over to you and gently grabbed your face with his still trembling hands, leaving a kiss on your forehead. It lasted longer than it should’ve but Jay didn't care, he just wanted to savor the moment, smell the scent of your hair, your skin, and realize you were really there in front of him, that you hadn't left him.

“Halstead, you shouldn't be here,” Connor commented without looking up from the bullet hole in your arm.

“Shut up Rhodes, just focus about treating her,” Jay retorted and the serious tone in which he said it caused both you and Connor to chuckle but as soon as you looked at him you stopped immediately, noticing the expression of pain and concern with which he was looking at you.

“What happened baby? My God…” he stroked your face, your hair, “Why didn't you call me? What did they do to you?”. His eyes moved from your features to your arm and he immediately knew it was a bullet hole. He had assumed that you’d been pushed, maybe fallen somewhere, but he hadn't thought it was a shot at all.

Anxiety and worry were quickly replaced by anger and rage and in that precise moment he promised himself he’d make the bastard who had done this to you, who had dared to hurt you, pay.

“I told Sylvie not to call you…” you started talking, not answering Jay's questions but he cut you off, “Y/N please… I'm mad enough you didn't call me and I had to hear from your colleague you ended up in the hospital, don’t even think about making jokes right now.”

“Sorry Jay, it's just… You were at work and I didn't want to worry you. I'm fine as you can see and Connor will fix me.”

“You're not fine,” Connor intervened, glancing at you before continuing to treat the wound “If you hadn't continued to treat the victim your arm wouldn't be in so bad shape, the bullet had gone too deep. But luckily I'm very good at my job.”

If looks could kill, you should’ve been petrified after Jay's glare.

“Connor, you really don't know when to shut your mouth, do you?”.

“Y/N,” Jay spoke up “I'm not playing and I'm about to lose my mind. Tell me what the hell happened.”

You sighed, looking down at your belly as you recalled those moments of terror that seemed to have happened not long ago but at the same time, so long ago.

Jay noticed the way your free hand was shaking slightly and he felt guilty for raising his voice after the traumatic event you had suffered earlier that morning. “Sorry baby,” he said, caressing your cheeks and then giving you another soft kiss on your forehead. He held you as best he could, your head level with his stomach as he continued to stroke your hair, your cheeks, trying to calm you down. It was his way of saying he was there, that you were safe and never like then did you mentally thank Sylvie for calling him.

“It’s okay, I’m here now. Everything will be okay baby.”

God only knew how terrified you were, how afraid you were of dying, never seeing the love of your life again, never hugging him again and feeling him holding you, cradling and caressing you… Shit, this was one of the best feelings you ever had the pleasure of trying in your life.

You kept thinking over and over of those scary moments, the sound of those gunshots you knew would echo in your mind for far too long. No manual, no course would’ve ever prepared you for all this, you knew that being a paramedic would’ve taken you to places where danger was around the corner, but the adrenaline, the fear, that terror… No one would’ve ever been able to preparing for this.

You didn't even realize Connor had finished bandaging your wound until you saw with the corner of your eye he was getting up and collecting all the dirty gauze and other tools he had used. “I can't stress enough about the fact you don't have to exert yourself. You have to rest for at least a week, after that you can do some office work, but no work on the field until you’ll be able to move your arm.”

“Trust me she won’t. Thanks Rhodes,” Jay replied and Connor gave him a smile, then patted him on the shoulder with an ungloved hand.

“I'll leave you two alone.”

You tried to move you arm a bit but it was still numb from the local anesthetic. Jay sat on the edge of the bed, taking your free hand and intertwining his fingers with yours as his thumb stroked your back.

“You made me worry to death you know? I think I've died and risen a thousand times in the last hour.” He was the one who spoke first, but his tone was soft and reassuring. His free hand stroked your face, tucking a strand of hair that had escaped your ponytail, behind your ear.

“I'm so sorry Jay,” you mumbled back, feeling awfully guilty to see him like this, features contracted up with concern, eyes shining.

“You don't have to apologize, I'm just so happy you're okay,” he hugged you and you returned that hug, with your free arm. “God Y/N, I wouldn't have known what to do without you. I've never been so scared as today...” he kept talking “Don't ever do this to me again.”

“I was so scared Jay… I…” you stammered, trying to swallow the lump in your throat “I thought I'd never see you again…”

“Shh, it's okay. I'm here now and you're safe, I won't let anyone hurt you anymore,” he tried to calm you down even if he was feeling a storm inside. He was angry, furious, because he wasn't there to protect you, because if he had the person responsible in his hands he would’ve killed them with his bare hands, because he hated seeing you like that, scared, trembling in his arms. And he wanted to cry, cry so hard, because the fear he'd had of losing you was paralyzing.

Jay had never been in a situation where he’d even think you weren't next to him. To him it was like you were a superhero, immortal, that one way or another you'd always come back to him and he had taking all of this for granted. Reality had hit him full blown and left him breathless, making him lose the ground under his feet, the world collapsing around him and made him understand it wasn't like this, that fate was sometimes a bastard and that only event made him realize how important you were to him. Maybe even more than he could have ever imagined.

How much he loved you, for goodness sake, it was overwhelming. You were his whole world, and however absurd, ridiculous, cheesy, or over the top that might seem, Jay really couldn't live without you. It was a phrase he had told you so many times but in that particular absurd event it took on an even deeper and more real meaning and he really, really couldn't exist in a world where you weren't by his side.

And he didn't care how cheesy any of that sounded, it was the plain, simple, unequivocal truth.

“Baby you're choking me,” you muttered as he began to hold you so tight it literally blocked your breath. Your voice brought him back to reality, “Shit. Sorry, baby I didn't realize it,” he said giving you a kiss on the lips and you smiled at him, “It's okay.”

“Are you okay? Do you need something?”.

You shook your head, your lids suddenly feeling heavy. “No, just some rest.”

Jay smiled sweetly, looking at you with so much love and affection. “I know baby, I know. As soon as they prepare the discharge documents, I'll take you home and you can rest as long as you want.”

You nodded and the tender expression on your face made his heart explode. Had he already said how much he fucking loved you? “You'll stay with me right? I need you.”

“Do you really think I would’ve left you alone knowing what you've been through? I'll take the rest of the day off and, since I have a lot of accumulated vacation days, I’ll take the next few weeks as well.”

You smiled faintly. You didn’t want him to not go to work and felt selfish but God, you needed him so badly so you didn’t even complain. “Thank you love.”

“Do you feel like telling me what happened?” Jay asked, now impatient. You told him everything from how you were treating the victim, to the shooting and until help arrived. It goes without saying how furious Jay was when you finished speaking and how he looked ready to smash something against the walls.

“It's over baby, I'm really fine now, luckily they hit me on the arm and not elsewhere where it could’ve been so much worse. I'll get better soon, you know how these things go,” you tried to reassure him, placing your hand on his face and stroking his skin, a gesture that made him relax a little. “Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad Y/N, I’m furious. You are the most precious thing in my life and I’d kill anyone for even touch a strand of your hair in the wrong way. Knowing you were there alone, that you couldn't defend yourself, someone dared to hurt you… I can’t even explain the rage I’m feeling right now,” he replied, the tone of low voice as your words kept echoing in his mind. “I'm so sorry my baby,” he caressed your face “My precious princess. I’m so sorry for not being there and failing to protect you. It shouldn't have happened, especially not to you. If something…”

“No love no,” you interrupted him, not letting him finish that sentence “Let's not think about that. I'm here now, you're here with me and that's all that matters, okay?”.

“I know, I know,” he replied. But they’ll still have to pay for what they did to you.

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[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ｃａｋｅ ♡

♡ I got a Big Matthew request ya'll! I love this man so much and never met someone else who loves him so, like, yay ♡

♡ Pairing: idol!boyfriend!bm x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Summary: You've been feeling insecure dating your idol boyfriend but a weekend away quiets your worries

♡ Genre: fluff/smut

♡ Word Count: 1.3kish

♡ Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, & that's all babes

When your boyfriend suggested that you rent a house by the shore for the weekend, complete with your own private stretch of beach, you thought it was kind of excessive given the price. Even still, Matt insisted that nothing could ever cost too much when it came to his girl and you were on your way to the beach house in a matter of days. Now, as you sit along the white sandy beach on your striped towel reading that one book you’ve been putting off reading for ages, you’re happy that he convinced you to come.

Nothing in recent memory has been as soothing as the clear blue water crashing to shore. Birds fly above singing the sort of song that could lull you off to sleep in minutes. The bright rays of the sun are softened by the few clouds that surround it. You smile to yourself thinking of how hesitant you were to come only to find yourself dreading the thought of ever leaving. “Baby!” You hear Matt’s voice booming in the distance.

You peek over your shoulder to glimpse his muscular 6 '1 frame waving to you from the balcony of the beach house, not too far from where you are. In nothing more than a pair of gray sweatpants, your mind can’t help but drift off to the filthiest place possible at the sight of him. “Hey you!” you shout back, smiling sweetly despite your recent thoughts. Matt smiles back, his phone casually held up in your direction, “Say ‘hello’ to the people!”

“To the people?” you ask, eyes squinting as you notice the phone in his hand, “What people?” “I’m on Instagram live, baby. Get up. Come on!” In an instant, your heart’s in your stomach. Instagram? Live? You jump to your feet, wrapping the towel around your sheer black bikini. “Matt, you’re joking right?” you laugh, praying you’re right, “You can’t do that can you?” A part of dating an idol that you never questioned was the secrecy with which you had to navigate your relationship. No one besides his inner circle could know, especially not his fans.

It was honestly a relief for you. Not because you were afraid of how his fans would react but because you were nervous it might be weird for him if everyone knew he was with a plus sized woman. Matt has never made you feel anything short of beautiful yet somewhere inside of you there still exists this fear of how things might change if you went public. How he might change. You feel every single one of these thoughts flooding your brain at once. And, like the little hermit crab scurrying past your discarded book, all you want to do is hide. 

But you won't have to because he’s not embarrassed. From the moment he flipped the camera onto you, you’d officially gone public and the only thing he’s done is look out at you with stars in his eyes. “She is cute, isn’t she?” he says in response to a commenter, “Oh! Baby! Baby! Show them the bathing suit I got you! Her body in this? Oh my god!” “Stop it. You’re just saying that” you blush, softening in the presence of his adoration.

“I’m not. I swear you look so good, Y/N. Your body’s everything.” Matt’s excitement rubs off on you, even from a distance. Before you can second guess yourself you’ve dropped the towel, standing there feeling shyer than you ever have but somehow…liberated? “Yeah! Come on, girl! 360! 360!” he chants and you roll your eyes, offering him a graceful pageant spin. 

“Damn, I love you girl!”

“I love you too!”

You break into a fit of giggles, covering your face with your hands. Matt switches the camera back on himself, throwing up a peace sign. “You guys, I've gotta go. I’m…kinda in a mood now so take care of yourselves, okay?” Hanging up the phone, he leans over the railing, biceps flexing as he grips the ornate metal. “Meet me downstairs” he says in a voice…the voice…that lets you know exactly what he’s thinking. He winks at you, disappearing into the house, and you’re running to meet him like it’s Christmas morning.

Your bodies collide in the luxuriously decorated living room. Matt scoops you into his arms, kissing along your neck as you adjust your legs around his waist. The air conditioning’s off but you still get chills when his lips gently run along your collarbone. “You sure you should’ve done that?” you ask, playing with his short neon green hair. He looks up at you, his expression serious enough that you can’t question a word he says next.

“I know what you were worried about. It could never be that with us. I’m so proud to have you.” You almost tilt your head down, flustered beyond words, but he kisses you before you can. Having his lips against yours, his tongue exploring parts of your mouth only he’s ever been able to reach, is getting you wet already. “So beautiful” he whispers, long fingers slipping between your thighs to stroke your slit. Your bikini might be moisture wicking but there’s no denying how wet you are.

Pushing the material to the side, he presses two fingers into you. You gasp into his mouth, palming the thick bulge in his pants. “You want it?” he teases. “Mmm” you hum, nibbling at his bottom lip, “Just shut up and give it to me.” You’re rarely this bold but it drives him crazy when you are. In the blink of an eye he has you against the wall, a breadcrumb trail of clothes behind you. Your hands ride smoothly across his sculpted body as he caresses the softness of yours, guiding his head to your quivering entrance.

When he raises his hips, pushing into you, you whine and all he can do is groan at how pretty you sound. The way it feels to have him inside of you…it’s like electricity prickling at the tips of your fingers. It’s the waves of his movements washing against your shore, giving and taking from you all at once. He holds you so effortlessly, makes you feel so light, that the only thing you have to focus on is the pleasure that reverberates through your core when he grinds into you.

“Oh…fuck. Just like that” you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders when he hits a particularly sensitive spot. Matt slams into you harder, hitting your sweet spot every time, “Like this?” “Yes…mmph…I’m gonna…” You lay your head on his shoulder and he strokes your hair, his other arm keeping you steady for him. “It’s okay, baby” he coos, kissing your shoulder, “Come.” You’re shaking, doing your best not to scratch him but you can’t help it, when you finally come apart, gushing around him.

You press your face into him, muffling your moans. Matt tugs your hair, gently tilting your head back, “I wanna hear you.” So you let him, filling his ear with every noise you can make. Some you didn’t even know you could. When your body collapses, your muscles reduced to jello, he carries you over to the couch and lays you on your back. “You good?” he asks, caressing your soft belly before resting his head on it. “Are you good? You’re kinda big for this couch aren’t you?” you tease, legs wrapping around him once again.

“Shut up!” he shoots back, lifting his head to kiss your stomach. Nuzzling against you, taking deep breaths of your scent, he stares up at you the way he did on the balcony. “Mine” he sighs, “Now everyone knows it…” And for once the thought of that isn’t scary. In fact, you’ve never been happier ♡

[thewritersaddictions]

Drabble: Call Of Duty- Body Talk

How might they react to finding out you don't like a part of your body?

John Price Bravo

"Do you think I'm pretty anymore?" You ask your husband of ten years. Price nearly scoffs at you, but when he looks up through your standing mirror, the look on your gives it all away. He can see the sadness behind your eyes and how you look at yourself with disgust in the mirror. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, love." He says, standing up to around the bedroom and standing behind you.

There's a bit more pudgness on your thighs, tummy, and even your arms, but you forget you've had two kids, and that comes with it. It also happens with simply aging. "But I don't feel pretty anymore, John. I feel disgusting, and I hate the way my body has become, and no amount of working out or eating right seems to fix it." Your voice is cracking, and Price knows the tears are coming. "Love, you're beautiful. Every day I look at you and wonder how the fuck I managed to be so damn lucky. I don't care about anything other than loving you and our kids." He says it, and he means it with all of his heart.

You let go of a large, heavy sigh. He wraps his arms around you. Your skin is cold in contrast to his warm hands and arms. "Anyways, it gives me more to hold to when I'm makin' love to you, baby," he says with a kiss on your cheek. You giggle finally, the happy noise filtering through the room. "You come here, and let me show you how much I love your body for you?" Price asks, looking at you through the mirror. You'll never be able to deny him.

Simon Riley Ghost

You never break, not in front of your teammates. Never show your true feelings until you are behind closed doors. This time, it had just been too much. In the field, you had been trying to get a family out of Hassan's territory. They had nothing to do with the bullshit going on. Your heart broke when the little girl walked out without her parents or siblings. You had picked her up in a fell swoop and taken her with you. You aren't sure how the hell she managed to escape the fire and collapsing house with nothing less than a mark on her face. She had held onto you for the entire ride back, and it wasn't until you got back to the hideout that you had to give her off to the medic.

Ghost had been watching you the entire time. Your sniffes didn't go unheard by him, so he watched longer. How you nearly ran off to bunks when you had to give the poor girl off to the medic. That's where he found you, in the bunk room, crying your heart out. The knock was not heard, and neither were his footsteps. "Athena," Your sniffles stopped, "yeah, how's the girl?" You ask, "That girl is fine, but how are you?" He asked. The worry was in his voice, and it was directed towards you. "I'm okay." You say, stuffing your emotions back in your chest. "You don't seem like it, love. You seem like you're falling apart." He countered. "I'm just, there's only so much I can do, but the weight is sometimes too much to bear. That girl has no family now. None at all because we… I wasn't able to get there in time." You say your hands on your head.

The silence is hard to tell, but then Ghost speaks. "Here's what you don't know: that girl is alive. Yes, she might not have parents, and she'll go into foster care, but she's alive. All because you grabbed her and pulled her from the fire. That counts for something, Athena." Ghost said as he sat down next to you. "you're allowed to break down; this is a physically and mentally-wearing job, so I'm offering you something. A shoulder to lean on. To cry on, to laugh on, to forget on. Whatever you need." "Thank you, Ghost." You say, "Call me Simon, now let's go check up on that kid, yeah?" He says, reaching out his gloved hand to take

John McTavish Soap

You had literally searched all over the internet about how to get rid of pregnancy stretch marks. The marks at the bottom of your belly where killing you to look at. Not the mention all the other shit you were now dealing with after your pregnancy. The milk pump sometimes worked, and other times it just didn't, which caused you significant discomfort, and then the massive fucking put-together pad you had to wear for the next two weeks. You just felt disgusting, so this added thing was just not needed.

The knock on the bathroom door made you shriek. "Shit, love, I didn't mean to scare you. Just wanted to tell you that baby girl is down." Johnny says as he enters the bathroom. Your hair is wet, and you only wear a pair of panties and a sports bra. Staring at yourself in the mirror. "Love, where are you at right?" The concern is clear in his words. "You can't help but crumble at your husband's soft Scottish accent. "I'm not… my body…" "What about your body?" He asks, obviously worried about you. "I don't like it anymore." His brows furrow together. "What do you mean?" "I'm ugly now, and these fucking stretch marks, and let's not add the other shit on top of it." "Hang on a minute now, sweetness." He says, moving to look in the mirror with you but you look away.

"You grew a whole human being in your body for the last nine months. You grew a fuckin' life. You are the most wonderful thing that happened to me, along with baby girl. I know you're not liking your body right now, but I'm telling you right now, you're still just as beautiful as you were the day I met you as you are now." "But…" "But nothing. You are the mother to our daughter, and I won't have you thinking poorly of yourself." Johnny smiles as he takes your hands together and rubs your ring with his thumb. "Together?" He asks, "Together," You responded.

Köing

"Fuck Liebling, you might be the death of me," Köing says as he shifts on the bed, making room for you to lie down next to him. You were up, grabbing two glasses of water for the both of you. Padding around in a pair of Köings boxers from the drawers and his t-shirt. Nothing was more a beautiful site than you right now in front of him. "Here you go." You stand, handing the glass of water off to him. The afterglow of sex sticking to your body still. He takes it graciously from your hand and rests it on his side table before pulling back the covers and waiting for your return to the bed.

It's hours later; while he's rubbing random shapes into your thighs, he feels something. At first, it doesn't concern him, but then he realizes what they are. Straight-cut lines work themselves up your thigh. How he had never noticed before blew his mind and the thoughts of what the small lines meant. You aren't asleep. Instead, you are catching up on your most recently purchased book. Köing couldn't help himself. "what are these?" He asks. "What is love?" You request not understanding where this line of questioning is going. "These marks on your leg. I can feel them." He says, rubbing gently.

You aren't shy about it. You've had them for years. You ensured they weren't in a spot where someone like your parents could see them. So your thigh was the best place. You bookmark your book before setting it down and pulling the covers off your legs. Köing moves his hand, and you start to explain. "I had really, like, horrible depression when I was a teenager. My family didn't really believe in medication or anything like that, so I didn't know what else to do. Sounds shitty now that I say it out loud since it was so long ago. But that was self-harm because I had no other outlet." You tell Köing, who's eagerly listening to you. "And you haven't done it since?" His words hold concern. "Don't worry about me, baby; I've got my meds, therapist, and you. I'm all good now." You say, trying to push away the sad thoughts that are trailing through your boyfriend's head.

"Don't worry, Schatz, I'll fuck the depression right out of you the next time. No need to cut up this beautiful skin." Köing words make you laugh.

Completed on: 11/16/23

Posted on: 11/20/23

COD-

[sissylittlefeather]

We Can Make the Morning

(or Angel Take 7)

A one-shot

A/N: I've had this idea for a while and just decided to go ahead and write it the other day while I was watching Elvis On Tour. I hope y'all enjoy this 1972 Elvis x fem!reader one-shot!

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, handjob, ejaculation, oral sex (f receiving), possible concussion

Word count: ~3.7k

Greensboro, North Carolina. You've lived here your whole life. And you've been an Elvis fan since you heard his first record at the tender age of fifteen. Now you're in your early thirties and you finally find yourself at one of his shows. You've never managed to go to one before and something about this feels like destiny. Still, the best you could afford is a seat at the front of the balcony, but you're next to where he'll walk into and out of the arena. If you push, you might be able to get a pretty good glimpse of him, and that's all you've ever really wanted. You dream of more, but you know better than to think he's going to notice you or anything.

April 14th, 1972 is show day, finally. You get dressed and try to ignore your nerves as you fix your hair and swipe on your makeup. You opt for your favorite bell bottoms and a cropped peasant blouse. It's not the dressiest outfit you own, but it flatters you and shows off all your best assets. Not that it matters much. He'll never see you.

At the arena, you make your way to your seat and try to survey whether you'll be able to get to a place where you can really see him up close. Eventually the lights go down and the music starts up. You head over to the railing, but there's a hundred girls between you and the tunnel. There's no way you can fight through them this time. You'll have to try again at the end of the concert. You head back to your seat with a new determination.

The show is incredible.

He's wearing a dark blue jumpsuit with a belt that has an owl on it, as he points out during one of the songs. Even as far away as you are, you can tell he looks amazing. His voice is on point and his performance is unmatched. You sit in silence with your lips parted slightly and your eyes wide. It's like he's made of stardust. And you're not going to let him pass by without seeing him up close.

He ends the show with Can't Help Falling In Love and then bows with his arms held out holding the silver cape. You know he's going to move fast through the tunnel, so you run to the railing and push your way through all the women gathered there. It's hot and hard to breathe and your heart is pounding. You're pressed up against the railing where it hits you just below the waist. Your position on your platform boots is precarious but you lean over anyway, just in case he reaches up. You feel yourself getting lightheaded from the excitement, but you're not going to miss this for anything, no matter how you feel. Just then, you see him headed for the tunnel. Your ears start ringing and the edges of your vision go dark. You can't believe it's really him. As the blackness envelops you, someone behind you pushes on your back and you feel yourself falling...

******

On stage, Elvis knows he's putting on a hell of a show. The energy from the crowd is electric and the camera crew seems excited by the footage they're collecting. In truth, he's ready to be done with this damn movie. Ready to be done with this damn tour. He enjoys the stage portion but everything in between is grueling. And honestly, the loneliness has been setting in pretty hard for him, especially in the middle of the night. Sometimes he picks up a girl at a show, but most of his encounters are empty. And even if he does find someone he likes, the conversation is lacking or she's so starstruck she can't do much more than giggle or try way too hard to impress him in bed. He longs for a real connection.

On stage, though, he lives his dream every night. This show in North Carolina is particularly satisfying for some reason and he comes off the stage with a smile on his face. He makes his way quickly to the car, heading for the tunnel lined with screaming fans. Looking up briefly, something strange captures his eye.

He reacts quickly without thinking, throwing his arms out to catch you just before you hit the ground. Somehow, you fall perfectly into his grasp and he holds you like a baby. He's stopped running, so his entourage encircles him to urge him forward.

"You can't stop here, man!"

"Put her down; let's go!" He looks down at you in his arms and realizes you're out cold.

"I can't! She's out, guys!"

"You're gonna have to drop her!" He shakes his head vigorously.

"No. I'm bringin' her with me." The guys make eye contact across him. They know when he's like this there's no arguing with him. He starts moving forward again with you in his arms.

At the car, the guys try again to get him to drop you with a security guard, but he refuses.

"It's my fault she's like this! I'm not leavin' her!" He gets into the backseat of his car, holding you on his lap. The other guys roll their eyes and squeeze in with him. It was a tight fit even before you were there, so now it's almost impossible for them to smash into the car. He wraps his arms around you tighter and holds you to him while the guys pile in. Sweat from the show slides down his face and he looks at you in his arms. The gentle lines of your features are intriguing and he wonders what your name is. For a moment, he forgets where he is and does something a little strange. He pulls your face to his and presses his lips to your forehead. That's when your eyelids flutter and you stir.

******

You sit up quickly and look around, trying to figure out where you are. You're in a car of some kind with a bunch of men you don't recognize. You try desperately to remember how you got here.

"Hey, honey. Are you alright?" When you hear his voice, you whip your head around.

"Oh." You answer breathlessly. "It's you."

He chuckles softly and his smile almost causes you to pass out again.

"It's me. I'm sorry, honey, I just didn't want to leave you there in that state."

"State?"

"Do you remember falling over the wall?" You cover your face in embarrassment.

"Oh my god..." He laughs softly again.

"Honey, it's okay. It happens."

"This has happened before?!"

"Well, not exactly..." One of the guys cuts in and you realize you're sitting on Elvis's lap with his arms around you. You fight to keep your composure.

"We're here, boss." The door opens and the guys climb out of the car until it's just you and Elvis.

"I'd like you to stay, so I can keep an eye on you. Is that okay?"

"I'm not sure it's necessary..."

"I say it is. Come on." You're not going to argue with him. He pats your bottom and you climb out of the car, followed closely by him.

On the sidewalk, you stumble a little, still woozy from passing out. He wraps his arm around your waist and steadies you.

"Do I need to carry you, honey?" The concern on his face is so endearing you almost melt into the ground.

"N-no, I think I'm okay."

"Alright. I'm gonna keep a hold of ya, though." You nod and he smiles genially. Then, the two of you make your way into the hotel surrounded by his bodyguards. At the elevator, he tries to dismiss them, and they refuse to leave him alone, but when he speaks sternly and insists that he'd like to be left alone, they listen and watch as he gets on the elevator with just you. Once the doors slide shut, he turns to you and puts both hands on your hips.

"What's your name, honey?"

"Oh! I'm y/n. I'm really sorry about this."

"Don't be." He waves his hand to dismiss your apology. "I just want to make sure you're okay. Do you remember if you hit your head on the way down?"

"I don't. I think I might've been out before I fell."

"You still might've hit your head." The elevator dings and the doors open. He keeps one arm around your waist and ushers you down the hallway to his room. You look at him in his jumpsuit and wonder where he might possibly have a key stashed. He bends down and pulls it out of his boot, standing and unlocking the door. You stumble a little walking across the threshold and he steadies you again, watching you with even more concern. Once you're in the room with the door shut behind you, he seats you next to him on the couch. You yawn and blink slowly. Somehow, you're exhausted.

"Are you sleepy?"

"Mhmm." You answer, yawning again.

"Okay. We need to keep you awake. If you hit your head, you shouldn't go to sleep."

"I don't feel like I hit my head." He reaches out and puts his hand on your cheek.

"I'm not willing to take any chances, honey." You nod slowly and notice that his eyes flick down to your lips. He clears his throat and pulls his hand back. You're a little surprised that he almost seems shy.

"You're sure I can't just lay down?"

"No, baby, you gotta stay awake." He looks down at himself and then to the bathroom. "I need to shower, though. But I hate to leave you alone."

"I really think I'm okay." He looks at skeptically as you yawn yet again.

"No. You're comin' with me. You can wear your underwear in the shower. I won't touch you. C'mon." He makes you stand up off of the couch and takes your hand, walking you to the bathroom. You want to tell him that you'd happily get in the shower with him naked, but you don't. He puts you in first, facing the back of the shower and then you hear him undress and get in behind you. You're dying to peek and see what he looks like without his jumpsuit, but he's being so kind that you can't violate his privacy like that. Still, the knowledge that Elvis Presley is naked behind you in the shower makes you a little crazy. Just when you think it can't get much more endearing, he starts humming. Your heart melts when his humming turns to quiet singing and you're dying to turn around and wrap him in your arms. He's so much more precious in person than you ever dreamed he could be.

You're lost in a reverie when the shower turns off and you feel him turn to face you. You can tell he's looking at you and you want to turn around so badly. Everything inside you is screaming at you to just turn around. But it's like you're frozen where you stand. When he kisses your shoulder, though, your head rolls to the side and you're desperate for him to touch you. He doesn't though. Instead, he whispers.

"You stay here, baby. I'll get you a towel." He gets out of the shower and hands you a towel. "There's a robe hanging on the door. I'm right outside."

You dry off and slip out of your wet undergarments, wrapping the fluffy robe around yourself. When you open the door, he's sitting on the couch with a towel around his waist. He looks up at you in the robe and swallows deeply. You sit on the edge of the bed and smile awkwardly. He returns your smile.

"I'm going to get dressed. Stay here and don't go to sleep."

"Yes, sir." He chuckles softly and moves back to the bathroom. You settle against the pillows and hastily break your promise to stay awake. The warmth of rest washes over you and your eyes close.

******

Elvis puts you in the shower in your underwear facing away from him. It's impossible for him not to notice your figure, though. The curve of your ass in your white panties about drives him crazy. He strips naked and turns the shower on. Through the whole shower, he tells himself not to get aroused just at your proximity. Once he's finished, he pulls the handle to make the water stop and then turns to face you. Your hair and your body are wet from the shower and he wants to touch you so badly that it almost hurts. Without thinking, he leans down and presses his lips to your shoulder. It's an indulgence he should have resisted, but something about you is intoxicating. He breathes deeply and pulls himself away to get you a towel. Once he does, he walks out into the room and sits on the couch. What is it about you that has him so out of sorts?

When you come out in the robe, it takes all of his self control to keep from ripping it off of you. But he wants more from this. He wants to know you, not just fuck you and move on.

"I'm going to get dressed. Stay here and don't go to sleep." You give him a salute and he chuckles, making his way back to the bathroom. After about thirty seconds, though, he has a bad feeling. He doesn't even get his pants on and walks back into the room still in his towel.

He was right. You're asleep.

He moves to the bed quickly and sits next to you, shaking you gently.

"Hey, baby, wake up." You don't stir and he starts to panic. He thinks back to how he woke you up in the car and leans in and kisses your forehead. Still, you stay asleep. He kisses your cheek and then finally, he presses his lips to yours. Finally, your eyes flutter open and he smiles. "You're back."

******

"I am. You kissed me."

"I'm sorry; I was getting desperate." He looks into your eyes and your smiles fade.

"Do it again." You whisper and he nods, pulling your face back into his. He crashes his lips into yours and the kiss moves to a fever pitch as he parts your lips with his and slips his tongue into your mouth. He puts both hands on your cheeks and you sit up on your knees, ready to crawl into his lap. Thats when he notices his erection under the towel. It's impossible to hide and he pulls away, looking down, and trying to push his cock down to make it less obvious.

"Oh, god, I'm sorry, honey."

"Don't be. It's okay." He shakes his head.

"No. It's not. I brought you up here just to keep an eye on you and now this." He's ashamed at his reaction to you. He feels your finger under his chin and you pull his face to looking into yours.

"Elvis, I've loved you for as long as I can remember. Meeting you? Knowing you? It just confirms everything I've ever believed to be true about you." He melts at your words and pulls you in close to him, kissing you deeply. But he pulls away again.

"I don't want to hurt you. I don't know if you should do... this..."

"Then maybe I can do this..." You reach your hand forward and run it down his chest to the top of the towel. Then, he inhales sharply as you move further down to where his cock is erect underneath it. You slide your hand under the towel carefully and take him in your palm. He moans softly as you begin to stroke him, moving his foreskin back and forth gently.

"God, baby, that feels so good. You don't have to-"

"Shhh. You've been taking care of me all night. Let me take care of you." His hips buck into your hand as you continue to pump him. He grunts and leans his head back as you move your hand a little faster.

"Mmm, baby..." He moans as you push his foreskin back and collect a bead of precum that's gathered there, running your thumb across his sensitive head. He leans back and lets you move the towel out of the way to free his cock and stroke it in the open. You pump him a little faster and he groans again. "It's so good, baby."

He feels your lips on his cheek as you move your hand on him and turns to kiss you. He looks into your eyes and puts his hand on your cheek, leaning in to capture your lips again. Then, he presses his forehead to yours and whispers.

"Thank you..." You smile and continue moving your hand up and down on him gently. He throws his head back and his hips buck again. "Fuck, baby, I'm gonna-"

A guttural groan rises from his throat as he cums, hard, and shoots his climax all over your hand. You pump him through his release and he shudders into your palm. He uses the towel to wipe your hand clean and then lays back on the bed.

You giggle a little and lay back with him. He turns and looks at you.

"I haven't been that satisfied with a handjob in years."

"I haven't given one in years." You smile. He rolls over and smothers you in kisses, forgetting for a second that you might be hurt. He pulls back and looks into your eyes, reaching down to undo the tie on your robe. His hand runs underneath it onto your stomach and down to your hip.

"Can I make you feel good too, honey?" You nod frantically and he laughs out loud. Then he stops and looks at you seriously. "Alright, just don't move around too much. I'll never forgive myself if this hurts you."

"I really think I'm fine." He sinks to the floor between your knees and pulls you to the edge of the bed. He spreads your legs, kissing the inside of each of your thighs gently. You moan softly as he leans forward and drags his tongue up your slit to the bundle of nerves at the top.

"Oh, god, Elvis!" You whimper as he continues to move his mouth on you. He swirls his tongue over and around your clit in tantalizing circles. The sensation drives you wild and your pussy clenches around nothing as he licks you. He dips down and pushes his tongue into your slit several times before slipping one of his long fingers inside you. You whine and arch your back as he pumps his finger in and out and goes back to dragging his tongue over your clit. The pressure of your orgasm builds as he works and you know you won't last too much longer. He pulls back a little and flicks your sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue, teasing your orgasm out of you.

"Cum for me, baby." He whispers, pressing his whole mouth to you and moving his tongue on you hard.

"Oh, yes! Yes!" You cry out as your orgasm crashes into you, pumping through your veins like electric shockwaves. He continues working his mouth on you as you ride out your high, your hand in his hair.

When you finally come back down and stop shuddering, he pulls back, wiping his face with his hand and laying next to you on the bed.

"Wow." He chuckles and looks over at you. "No, seriously, I've never had a man...get me there."

"Really?"

"I mean, they've tried, but never successfully. It's like I was waiting for you."

"Honey, I feel like I've been waiting for you too." He rolls over and put his hand on your cheek.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't explain it. Something about being here with you, feels like I was meant to catch you."

"It feels like I was meant to fall." He presses his lips to yours, kissing you deeply. You shimmy out of the robe and get under the covers with him. He holds your naked body close to his own, running his hands over you gently as you talk.

You spend the rest of the night in conversation and soft touches. He tells you stories about his life and listens attentively when you share yours. The connection between you strengthens with each passing hour and each soft caress and each sweet kiss.

When the sun peeks through the curtains of your hotel room, he pushes a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

"I think you're okay, baby. You haven't had any other symptoms and it's probably been long enough now that you would have."

"Should I leave?"

"Not unless you want to."

"I don't."

"Then stay. We made it to the morning. We can rest now." You nod and he settles on your chest. You're both asleep within minutes, wrapped around each other.

Eventually, there's a harsh knock on the door and someone calls to him from the other side of it.

"Hey, boss, we gotta be wheels up in twenty."

"Okay." He hollers back, groaning and stretching.

"I'm sorry I kept you up all night." You whisper.

"Don't be, honey, that's the best night I've had in years." You both get up and start to get dressed. When you're fully put back together, he grabs you and pulls you into a warm embrace.

"I hate that you're leaving." You mumble into his chest.

"Come with me."

"What? No, I can't."

"Why not?" You wrack your brain for a reason, but there's nothing keeping you here. Nothing that's more important than him.

"Okay." You look up into his face, your arms still wrapped around each other.

"Really?"

"Yes. Can we swing by my apartment and let me grab a few things?"

"Baby, I'm Elvis Presley, we can do whatever we want." He leans in and kisses you softly again. "You know somethin'?"

"Hmm?"

"I know I caught you when you fell, but I think you're the one who saved me tonight." He takes your hand to lead you out of the room and into your future. "My own little angel fell right out of the sky. I'm so glad you did."

******

The End

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