#except it's not a t-shirt but a club | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bunnys-kisses · 2 months

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Omg I am GREEDY could I please request for max banana bread and a croissant with a side of coffee hard lemonade?! Just imagining max getting jealous with a rival Mercedes driver who is Toto’s daughter or something when he sees her flirting with someone else 😌😌😌 spicy please sir 🙏

the bakery menu

still many sweet treats on the menu and orders are still available! feel free to place an order! also to the anon who requested this, i love your beautiful mind for this! i was somewhat expecting someone to request the reader be either horner or toto's daughter, but combined with the other prompts, i rather enjoy your devilish mind! please enjoy!

in addition, this will probably be the largest bakery request, this sort of got away from me!

banana bread ("i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name.") + croissant ("i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me.") + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour) served to you by max verstappen (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, driver!reader, driver!max, rough sex, degrading language, rivals au, hate fucking, teasing, max & reader hate each other and their fathers, possessive behaviour/jealousy, mentions of marriage and kids

you were good, and that pissed max off. it wasn't because you were a woman, that didn't matter. anyone of any gender who was better than him left a chill down his back.

you were good, so therefore he had to be better.

"are you upset that you lost, princess."

the hateful nickname people gave you in formula one, you were the daughter of toto wolff and drove for the team he basically owned. your father was technically your boss and most thought that you were incapable of being good. that everything was handed to you by your father.

your jaw tensed, you were number two in the season. marginally behind max verstappen who was looking at you with a smugness.

"so what will be your reward, oh dear lord verstappen. how can i a humble peasant in the world of formula one be so thankful that you beat me." your tone was laced with poison.

"motor home at the end of the lot. the one right beside the one your father's team owns." he was almost cocky and it made you want to go at his throat.

but rules were rules and as much as you wanted to whip your helmet at him. this sick little cat and mouse would just have to continue, except this time max was the cat.

you were pressed up against the door of the motor-home hours later after interviews, max had you by the shoulders as he pulled you into a searing kiss. he had taken home the trophy and you were a seething little rabbit.

being rivals sometimes meant ending up in compromising positions. and you and max made quite a pair. you heard the conversations online about the idea of you two being a couple.

a few photos from your early days of racing had made the rounds off of a private facebook page that a former friend had and onto the likes of instagram and tiktok.

you thought that the photos were before the "arrangement" you had but you could see in the shit quality of the photo the prominent hicket on max's hip in one of the photos where he had his arms raised above his head and the t-shirt he wore had rolled up.

the most incriminating was one that was a tad blurrier than the others. it was you and max at a club somewhere in either mexico or brazil and max had his arm slung around you, and your nose was in the crook of his shoulder and you looked like you were half asleep. max looked drunk as hell. but it wasn't the position you were in, but rather the trail of deep red lipstick across his cheek and down his neck. you were both out of it, very drunk but it was obvious that you were kissing all over the other driver's neck. you tried to explain online that it was just a wicked bruise on his face! but when was the last time a bruise looked like lips?

if those were bad enough, if someone found the both of you in the position you were in now, the media would latch onto it for the next decade. until you two eventually got married and had the next heir to the verstappen racing legacy.

he pulled at your racing shirt, the logo of mercedes was starting to piss him off. he didn't want to see it stretched around your tits, he'd rather have the flesh in his lands and covering it in dark hickies.

his hat was on the ground soon after and you two kept a close distance as you made your way through the motor home, trailing clothes behind. until you got to the upstairs portion where if left you in just your mismatched socks and him in his tight briefs and red bull polo shirt.

"you look good."

"you act like you've never seen me naked before." you approached him and pressed yourself up against him and linked fingers with him, "we've been doing this since what, 2016?"

he looked down at you, "and yes you only get more beautiful, i keep wondering why you can never find a boyfriend. are they scared?"

you clenched his hand and said, "max verstappen, anytime a man with any kind of clout follows me on instagram, they always seem to unfollow me right after. i have my guesses on why that is happening, but i feel like you'd have a better idea." then flashed him a smile before you pushed him onto the bed.

max looked up and smiled at you. not the one who put on for the cameras, but rather a true genuine smile. he responded as he took his shirt off, "princess, i honestly don't know. could be your overbearing father for all you know. he would only want the best for you after all."

you straddled his clothed cock and placed your hands across his chest, "well, then i guess it wouldn't bother you if i said that two weekends ago i had a little post-race rendezvous with leclerc."

max's attention piqued. the green-eyed monster that lived in the driver reared its ugly head. he said, "you went somewhere with charles?"

you nodded and cupped his face. you smiled and replied, "oh yeah. nice big boat, lots of wine. he let me put the ferrari hat on when i rode him. but you're not bothered by that, right?"

max grabbed you by the back of the head and pulled you into a hot kiss. you could feel the tension in his body, the jealousy taking root. when you pulled away, he looked sternly into your eyes, he held your head and said, "you're a little liar. how would you father feel if he found out that you were a dirty fucking liar."

a sick little game. this what this all was. losing your career and favour with your father was not worth it, so the games continued until you both got bored. but it's been almost ten years and there was very little boredom.

"really, go ask him next time." you pushed further. you could feel his clothed erection up against your pussy. fucking freak.

max replied, "yeah, yeah. i'll ask him, and then i'll invite him over next time. he doesn't live that far away, princess. and i will show him how to actually fuck you. because i know if you did sleep with him, you were faking your orgasms."

you nodded a little and said, "yeah, verstappen. why don't we bring up the time you called me because you thought you got some girl in italy pregnant." you pressed your forehead against his. the sharp words were replaced with hot kisses.

max's briefs were soon off, followed by your socks. you two hated each other, it was a sickening affair. fueled by lust, hate and wanting some kind of release. you were your fathers' pet projects, a mutually assured destruction was the only way out of it. and it took the form and max's hands gripping your hips as he wrestled you onto your elbows and knees.

"i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name." he said, "maybe if you're lucky, it'll be your name in a few years." he rubbed his cock up against your slick pussy.

you wanted to reach behind you and hit him, but instead your muttered out, "yeah well your son will have the wolff last name then."

he yanked your hair and said, "not if i have anything to do about it. i'd rather our sons have strong a last name and good dutch first names." his voice was honey in your ear, you hated how that strong of words soaked your to your core. he chuckled in your ear as he slid in his cock into you. with both hands on your hips, "we can invite your father to our wedding, i think it would be a little rude for me not to. watch him hand over his only daughter."

"i'm going to kill you verstappen." you snapped and he pushed your face further into the bed. the light streamed through the large windows, asshole didn't even close the curtains. who knew what paparazzi was lingering around still.

"don't be mad, princess, it's not a bad thing that the only way you'll ever be close to the championship is to have my last name."

"i'm going to win this entire thing and i'm going to ruin you, max."

"not if i ruin you first." he rocked you against his cock. he hand you by the hips and drilled his cock into you.

you hated that you loved it, you hated how easily it was for him to get you into his bad. you hated that he was your biggest rival and the other fucker on the grid who could make you finish. you've heard the horror stories from former girlfriends.

max on the other hand took a sick pleasure in making your cum over and over and over again, until your voice was raw from the amount of times you said his name like worship.

you wanted him dead, but you also wanted him between your legs.

the sex between you two was hot, it was like touching a hot handle on the stove. you clawed at the soft white covers and let max thrust into you. you knew he was going to finish in you, after you told him you were on the pill, he took full advantage of that.

you thought it was a weird ownership over you. the thought of it made you frown against the covers. max kept you pinned as he fucked you.

the tumble of pleasure in the motor-home coursed through you. you felt hot all over, his breath in your ear and the weight of him on top of you. he kept you pinned between him and the bed.

"you're a sick fuck, verstappen."

"not as much as you, wolff." he said between heavy pants.

you had trained each other for sex to be a quick thing in stranger areas. there was no time for passion and romance. you rubbed your forehead against the covers and panted heavily. you felt close to your orgasm with your heart hammering.

"i'm gonna cum." you panted, you arched your back and looked up at him. he leaned over you for a hot kiss on your lips, his pace became more sporadic, and with that it sent you over the edge.

he broke the kiss and gave it a few more hearty thrusts before he finished inside of you. orgasm gripped him tightly and he let out a hard pant as he came to a stop.

"fuck."

"shit."

"max."

"i know."

he kept one of his large hands on your lower back as you panted heavily against the bed. you reached for him and ended up tucked into his side. he held you, it was almost tender.

"verstappen."

"wolff."

it felt good being next to him, even if he was your rival. while the sex was amazing, you knew that there would be a part two to his reward for beating you.

but for a moment you let yourself come down from the intense high of climax, slightly pissed that max verstappen was the one who was able to make you feel good.

fuckin' asshole.

"this is stupid, max." you said as you tried to adjust the shirt on your body. it was a little too big, but it would stroke max's ego.

max was seated at the edge of the bed, the shirt you were wearing was once on him. he said to you with a smile, "i think that you look rather good. i think you'd be better on red bull's team."

you looked over your shoulder, "or i could make you come to mercedes? we'd know how to take care of you." you giggled before you went over to him.

the shirt on you was one of many red bull polos that max owned, it was what he wanted on top of having sex with you. you got in his lap and spread your hands across his bare chest.

"i guess i can live with wearing these terrible colours, once." you tapped him on the nose and added, "but don't get used to it, verstappen. i'll make sure to get you a pretty thong with the mercedes logo on it when i win."

he took you by the back of the neck and pulled you into a searing kiss and said, "right, right. maybe next time i win, you can go to the paddock with my cock on your breath and the red bull logo across those pretty tits of yours." he held you closer and licked his lips, "now, schat. i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me."

you cupped his face and said, "you have twenty minutes verstappen, either you get another orgasm out of me or i'm leaving."

he laughed and cupped your breasts through your shirt. he said ina voice so painfully sweet, "of course, ms. wolff, would hate to get the best driver in all of mercedes waiting. i know you're all an impatient bunch." then was pulled into a hot kiss before you two ended up back fully on the bed. <3

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jarofstyles · 2 months

Text

The Favor 9

Hey... Sorry it took me a minute. I've decided this is definitely not the only club scene for them because there's a lot I want t explore with them. Part of me wants to apologize for adding so much in but I hope you guys love them as much as I do!!! They are one of my all time favorite pairings to write.

Also don't worry Im working on getting rid of Danny lol

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WC- 10.2k

Warnings- dom/sub dynamic, BD/SM, Exhibitionism, voyeurism, degrading, choking, sir/daddy kink, pet/puppy nicknames, name calling, slight Mean Dom H mixed with soft Dom tbh, tiny bit of humiliation kink, aftercare is in the next part I promiseeeee

Y/N was buzzing in her own skin.

So much was happening in her brain that it felt borderline overwhelming. She stood in Harry’s bathroom looking into the mirror with her hands on her face, just to confirm that she was, in fact, a real person.

The night prior had been intense. A lot, but in a good way. Something had shifted between them, as she suspected, but neither of them were truly ready to talk about it. Harry was instead, a lot more affectionate which… to be honest, she hadn’t expected. It was a glorious change, feeling his hands or eyes on her whenever she was in a room with him. He’d had her sit on his lap while he proof read something on his laptop, his hand stroking over her stomach and underneath one of his shirts that he’d put on her after their bath the night before. There was no urgency to talk, Y/N leaning her head on his shoulder and relaxing into the warm, fresh smell of the man she was so connected to whilst scrolling on her phone. He’d made them breakfast and ordered them lunch, but she had noticed a distinct lack of kissing.

It made her wonder if she pushed a bit last night, asking for one. Somehow she doubted it considering he had been the one giving her kisses the last few weekends together, but there was a weird seed of dread in her stomach that reminded her that at some point the weekend would be over and the warm place she had in the pool of Harry’s warmth would dry up and she’d need to come back up for air. To go through the week without seeing him, except maybe for a lunch, when she had grown so needy for his mere presence. He was attentive even when they weren’t physically around, more than the man she had called her boyfriend, but it still didn’t feel like enough. As weird and freaky as it sounded, she wanted to crawl under his skin somehow. Get as close as possible.

Tonight they’d be going to the sex club. Something she was both excited and nervous about, the weird feeling in her chest making her wonder which one outweighed the other. Harry had communicated very clearly that this first visit was going to be rather tame- or, as tame as a sex club visit could be. They’d watch a scene he had pre chosen, a voyer couple in a room open to exhibitionists. Before that, they’d mingle and he would introduce her to some of his friends he had there.

One thing she wasn’t too sure about though, was getting too close to anyone he had played with before. Y/N, while not historically jealous, found her skin crawling with ants at the idea of having to be around someone else who knew how he tasted, how he looked when he came. Sure, he wasn’t officially hers, but it felt like it more than she cared to admit. That had added on to her anxiety but it wasn’t something she wanted to openly admit to him yet, so she kept it under wraps for the time being.

He’d done something nice for her and got her a dress. A cute little thing, lacy and white. A sweetheart neckline and strapless, she was hoping the strapless bra was going to do its job- but then again, she kind of hoped maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe he had chosen the dress for ease of access. The idea of him slipping down the top and playing with her in front of other people had her wet the moment she thought about it.

Her panties, though, were noticeably missing in the ensemble. When she asked about them, his smirk had rose on his lips. “Who said you were getting any?”

So all in all, she was a complete and utter wreck of hormones and anxiety.

Freshly showered, she had fixed her hair and sat staring at herself with her makeup half done. Another of the dominant’s shirts hung off her shoulders. He had a vanity that was cleared of anything but her stuff, which was nice, but another flare of jealousy had worked its way through her. Who else had used this vanity for this exact thing? Who else had been getting ready for him to take them to the club to play with them in the way that was so uniquely Harry?

It was no right of hers to be jealous or possessive when she was still in a relationship, though it was one she was having her doubts about. Her phone remained empty of any texts from him. The longer he put it off, the less she cared about what he had to say. Anger wasn’t really there considering Harry had been giving her plenty of attention, but still. Her brain was craving the quiet only the Dominant had managed to give her.

“Alright?” His sudden appearance made her squeal, jumping in her chair. Clutching her ever beating heart, she looked at him wide eyed in the reflection. Where the fuck had he come from and how long had he been there?

“Fucks sake, H.” She wheezed. “You need some sort of bell or something. How long have you been standing there?” Where she expected a laugh, she got none. His brows furrowed and his lips pursed, he turned the chair towards him and lifted a hand to tilt her head up. “For a minute or two. I was waiting for you to notice but…” Eyes scrutinized her face. “You’re nervous.”

There wasn’t much she could hide from him. To be fair, she hadn’t planned on it, but it was still annoying, borderline unsettling on how he could read her like an open book. “A little. It’s not a big deal though.”

“We don’t have to go yet, if you aren’t ready. We don’t have to go at all.” His voice was soft as he kept his face placid, clearly trying not to sway her either way. It was yet another confirmation to her that he actually did give a fuck about her well being.

The idea of not going at all, though, made her shake her head rapidly. Wouldn’t that mean they would cut off their arrangement? As selfish as it was, she couldn’t give him up yet. She couldn’t give up the orgasms and the kisses and the praise, just as much as she didn’t want to give up the daily texts and jokes and pictures of Buttons when she was back at her own place. “No! It’s just, it’s a little intimidating. That’s all.” She sighed, leaning into his hand. That seemed to soften him a bit, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip as he tried to gage her.

“What about it has got you intimidated?”

It felt oddly good having him standing over her, petting at her. His gaze soft, looking down at her as he tried to make her feel comfortable but undeniably in control of the situation. Of her.

“You know people there, mostly. But the whole thing. I know we’ve gone over what we’re doing but it feels bigger the closer we get there. Y’know?” She puckered her lips over the pad of his thumb, watching as his smile tipped the corner of his lips. These tiny acts of intimacy were going to be the ones that ruined her. “I’m very excited. It’s what I’ve wanted, you know? And I kinda think that makes me put more pressure on the expectation.”

Harry hummed in his throat, nodding along to her observations. It made logical sense and she knew it, but seeing him agree made her feel a little better. Maybe she wasn’t overreacting after all.

“It is intimidating. It's taboo, in a way. Something that’s going to shock your system. You don’t go many places with people being so open sexually around you. It isn’t so blatant until the shows start, but even then. It’s the sort of stuff you're used to fantasizing about, and to see it right in front of you can be a lot to take in. Seeing people on leashes, or full body spandex, masks, all of that. It’s new to you, so I expect it to be intimidating to you. But may I offer you a few pieces of advice?”

Y/N would lick his shoes if he asked in the right tone of voice, so she nodded. She wondered if she would get away with it, and his eyes did narrow, but he chose to let it go.

“The only person I’m going to be focusing on when we go is you. I have some friends, yes, and I’d like you to meet them and their submissives, but I’m not expecting you to make best friends at the first meeting.” He started, ever so slowly pushing his thumb into her mouth. Testing the waters. Like second nature, she began to suck lightly on the tip of it as he continued talking, the tip of her tongue brushing the pad of his finger. “But the real advice I have is to let go. Let me control the night. I’ve got you, I��ve got everything you need to do up in my head. All you’ve got to do is follow directions. If I tell you to say hello? Say hello. If I don’t, you don’t. If I tell you to sit on my lap, you sit there. Tell you to get on your knees, you do it. If I tell you to suck my cock, you do it. Because everyone else there is doing the same thing, if not, they’re there to watch it happen. There’s nothing you need to worry that pretty little head about.” His eyes darkened slightly as she took his thumb a little further into her mouth, blinking up at him. “Okay? Daddy’s got you.”

Somehow it worked. Some of that anxiety melted away, realizing he was fully serious. All she needed to do was listen to him. That was the backbone of all of this.

“You’re in control. You’ve got the power to color out, you’ve got the boundaries and I’m just there to make sure you’re tended to properly. Remember what I said, hm? Me being in control is only because you allow me to be.”

That had been something she learned more and more as the time passed by with him. As incredible as it felt to have him be in charge, she had the ultimate say so. She could color out at any moment. There was no reason not to trust him because he had never given her a reason not to.

“Your safe word isn’t just for sex, either. Anything you want to stop tonight, you tell me. I know you’ll be good and remember that, but I just need to remind you before you hand yourself over to me. I will never be disappointed or angry because you need a break, or you don’t want to do something. I care about you a lot more than I care about nutting off or showing off to people.”

In truth, Harry would never forgive himself if something happened and she ever felt unsafe with him. It was a team effort, yeah, but he did think he was good enough at reading her that he would be extremely upset if he didn’t predict something like that. Y/N did run a bit anxious sometimes. He’d been able to get her to a point where she completely let go for him, and he wanted to repeat that pattern over and over until the weight that she felt on her shoulders lessened. As strong as the woman was, he wanted to help take some of it on his own back.

His thumb pulled from her mouth with a soft ‘pop’, the dominant ignoring the whimper and smearing the sweetness of her saliva over her chin. It was the world’s highest honor to see her eyes round out for him, to watch her track his every moment like the eager pet she had proven to be for him. Knowing she wanted to please him made him feel more powerful, more fulfilled, than he had been in a very long time. Showing her off was something he had been more than looking forward to doing, but there wouldn’t have been any use in doing it if she wouldn’t feel equal enjoyment. “Are we okay, Sweets?”

“Yeah.” She sighed, the sigh exhaling against his damp finger. “I gotta finish getting ready though. You have my outfit picked out on the bed?”

“I do.” He nodded, lightly fingering a loose tendril of hair that brushed her cheek. “And you’ll be wearing that black peacoat over it. Should keep you nice and warm.” Tilting her chin up, he placed one of the first kisses of the evening on her pouty lips before smoothing his thumb back over her mouth. “You’ve got time, darling. Don’t worry.”

—--

Y/N felt marginally better as she held on to his hand, clinging for dear life on his wrist with the other as they waited at the front entrance.

There had been quite a lot she expected from a club dedicated to kink. Karma was as sensual and mysterious as ever, but the front of a closed hair salon letting them in had been a shock to the system. If she hadn’t known any better, she would have thought Harry had lost his mind until he opened the back room door and exposed an entirely different aesthetic. A black and gold elevator, black marble floor and red curtained walls. That had to be a bitch to dust.

With a key card, he placed it on the gold plated button pad and it opened for them to step inside. Now that she was in the elevator she could hear some music, some people, but nothing she could have ever expected from the street view. Privacy was very important to them, as she could tell. “They’re going to put our phones and my keys into the locker and we’ll get them on the way out. It’s for everyone’s privacy, but there are staff in there to ensure you have an out if you need it.” Unwinding their fingers, his grip changed to her jaw to tilt it up to look at him. The casual dominance had her knees weak. How did he manage to do it so seamlessly? “We’re gonna check out coats, and then we’ll go in. You are safe with me, Pet.” His tone was gentle, reminding her again how he had been the best thing to wander into her life. There was no saying shit just to say it. The man wanted to assure her, drill it into her brain, that he was completely here for her and everything they did was because she wanted to do it.

As intimidating as it was, she swallowed the lump around her throat and gave him a nod before allowing him to take her coat off. Standing in front of a hostess and the man who worked the coat check in her little outfit had made her a little stiff at first, but the moment she heard the quiet curse under his breath, their opinions didn’t matter.

He had chosen a maroon babydoll for her to wear tonight. Satin cups clung over her breasts while it transferred to a tight knit mesh-like material that flowed over her body and hit her upper thighs. The panties had been a bit of a different choice, rather simple silk ones with lace trim. She’d expected lace, a g string, something else but they were really nice. It wasn’t overtly sexual, but it made her feel sexy as she had tugged them up her thighs and settled the waistband on her hips. The outfit had surprised her a little considering she had thought maybe he’d want her to wear something completely form fitting or restrictive, like spandex or leather, but instead he’d gone with something more flowy and light. Maybe he was starting them soft for the first time, but it was the sexiest she had felt so far in her life.

“You look incredible.” He mumbled, placing the coat numbers on the counter with their phones and his keys. “Fuck me.” Lithe fingers traced over the straps, the feather light touch stopping at the necklace he’d chosen for her tonight. A simple gold chain with a heart. At first she had thought he would give her one of those collars, but she wasn’t sure how that worked.

“I was going to give you the one with my first initial, but I was saving that.” The admission made her eyebrows raise. Why hadn’t he done that? “I wanted to ease you into it, and for some reason you’ve been turnin’ me into a possessive son of a bitch. Wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep composure if it was on there like that… But I don’t think that matters too much now, anyway.”

Harry had always known he was attracted to Y/N in otherworldly, almost inappropriately intense ways. While he could be a jealous man, he hadn’t felt it to this degree. Irritated that she didn’t have his name on her neck or a traditional sign of ownership. He was a weak man when it came to her, but he didn’t mind when he could see her preen slightly over his words. The one thing that was soothing his inner caveman was the fact that she had marks from him on her body. Love bites blooming from the swell of her left breast and one he’d sucked on the right side of her neck, a few little bruises from his fingers digging into her hips… They were little badges of honor.

He’d caught her this morning, admiring them in the foggy mirror. He’d come to bring a fresh towel before she got into the shower and watched quietly as she ran her fingers over the marked skin, the tiniest little smile on her lips that made his cock twitch. If they hadn’t had plans to come here tonight he would have bent her over the counter and gave her more. That silent appreciation at the tiniest hints of ownership meant more than she would ever know.

“I can wear it next time.” She peeped, meeting his eyes. “I like this one too, but… I like the other idea.”

The silence was loud for a moment as he observed her, the admission making her look a little flustered. Every day it seemed they were slipping into something far more serious than they’d set out to, but the unspoken words lingered under their tongues. It wasn’t the right time to discuss. “Noted.” Thumbing over her chin, he nodded at her before tucking the tickets from the coat check into the pocket of his pants. “Come on then, Pet. Let’s have a look.”

—-

Y/N’s eyes were wide as they took in the vast room around her.

Holy fuck. Harry hadn’t been kidding about it shocking her system.

His hand held the back of her neck as she was guided towards the bar, where she was warned didn’t sell any actual alcohol for safety reasons. It matched and exceeded her expectations upon first glance.

The stage was set up with some sort of bench, but it was obvious they’d come before the show had begun. People milled about, laughing and talking as if nothing abnormal was happening- like the woman in her all spandex dress chatting to the bartender, drink in one hand and chain in the other. Connected to the other end of the chain was a man on his knees for her, leather mask covering everything but his eyes and mouth. Not far from her in a booth across the way, a man had a woman on his lap with his hand down her top, playing with her tits and keeping a conversation.

It wasn’t extreme, no, but it had her a bit spooked. Even more so when she looked to the side and saw a girl on her knees and her face buried under another woman’s dress. So he hadn’t been kidding- it really did happen anywhere.

Heat flushed over her chest as she averted her gaze, blinking rapidly as she tried to calm her heart. It wasn’t a bad thing, she didn’t think, because she could feel herself becoming excited. Just a walk through and she was warm in her tummy, feeling that anticipation climbing all the way up her throat. She had to wonder what Harry was going to surprise her with tonight.

“Alright?” He mumbled, turning to face her as they approached the bar. The promise of a sweet, sugary mocktail had been enticing but now her curiosity was wanting to take over. “It’s not too bad, is it?”

“No, Sir.” She shook her head, meeting his eyes. The hand on the back of her neck gave a subtle squeeze, pulling her a little closer. “It’s… I’m curious to see what else goes on, but I think it’s interesting.”

“A lot of things are happening in the rooms. The main stage show isn’t anything too extreme, but the rooms are different theaters on this level, and playrooms on the top level.” The split level was apparent to her now, reminding her a bit of a hotel lobby she’d stayed at once on holiday. Rooms surrounding the top with a walkway that looked down while the bottom was an open concept until it split into four hallways. The place was truly beautiful, albeit a bit intimidating. “What did you want to drink?”

Y/N looked over the menu with curious eyes, smiling lightly when she saw someone had made a plethora of fruity and sweet concoctions modeled after bubblegum, blue raspberry, cherry, all sorts of stuff. There were more tame things, pina colada and mint julep, but considering she was experimenting tonight she chose something she normally wouldn’t. “Can I have the cotton candy one, Sir?”

“You may, yes.” The subtle correction had her face flushing for a moment, but she could see he was teasing a little from the dimple threatening to break on his face. God, he was so gorgeous.

It was always apparent that Harry was handsome, but seeing him like this was a whole different experience. His shoulders were bigger, back straighter, a more controlled and poised version of him was at the helm. Was this his best self? Being a dominant, taking and guiding her? He’d said multiple times he liked taking care of people, liked being in charge, so it must feel really good to have her eyes on him at all times.

When she’d brought up that she’d read a lot about people in her books had dominants that preferred them to avert their eyes, but he’d scoffed at it. In opposition, he’d told her to keep her eyes on him at most times. Joked about it soothing a bit of his ego, but she wasn’t sure how much of it was really a joke at this point. Either way, there would be no complaints about that when the man looked as good as him. Sharp jaw and nose, dark lips, eyelashes that pissed her off because they were so pretty… The man had a way about him that reminded her of classical art.

When the bartender came over he was greeted with a smile, which he reciprocated with a small one of his own before ordering her the drink she wanted and himself some sort of iced tea thing. She had no clue, considering she was a little busy zoning out. His hand had started to subtly massage the back of her neck and her eyes had glazed over a bit, being pressed into his side making the scent of him increasingly soothing. Perhaps he was doing it for that exact reason, but that was why he was in charge. He knew what to do to calm her nerves.

As soon as the bartender walked away, he turned back towards her. “And how are you feeling?” Eyes dipping over her body, Y/N swallowed as she knew exactly what he was talking about- and why he looked so damn smug.

He’d helped her put a plug in before they left. The smallest one, but it had still worked her up a significant amount. There had been something weirdly erotic knowing that he would know why she was shifting around. Trying anal for the first time the night prior had been a mind meltingly good experience, making her even more eager to try new things. It had always been a fantasy of hers, but she hadn’t realized just how good it would feel. How full and connected she would be with it- but again, that was possibly just a Harry thing. He had made the simplest thing far more pleasurable.

“Good.” She nodded, watching his eyes linger on her breasts. He’d spent time after their sex last night kissing on them in appreciation, letting his lips hover over the marks before he lotioned over her body. Physical touch had to be his top love language, she had deduced. “I, um… It feels weird when I walk. But not bad, Sir.”

“Mmm, I know. You’re walking a bit differently, but you’ll grow used to it. Even more so, I think you’re going to learn to love it.” Adjusting the strap that seemed to be slipping down her shoulder continuously, he let his touch linger. “You’re going to be my good girl and let everyone see how perfect you are, aren’t you?” The tone of his voice dropped into a deeper one, her body reacting to it as she leaned into his touch. “I can’t decide if I want you perched on my lap all night, or if I want you on your knees in front of me.” Clicking his tongue, he shook his head. “Decisions, decisions.”

“Whatever you’d like me to do, Sir.” She replied, though there was no true preference. Y/N was aiming to please tonight, subconsciously feeling the pressure to prove she could be a good submissive for him.

“Oh, I know, pet. You don’t have a choice in that.” He laughed under his breath. “Precious girl. Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll tell you to sit and speak like my good Pup, alright? You just stick to me.”

Y/N a few months ago would probably try to fight his words and the condescending tone because that was what was expected of her. Y/N a few months ago would ignore her body when it reacted to those words. Y/N now, though, let her eyes widen and simply agreed, because deep down that’s what she’s been wanting to do.

When the drinks arrived, her eyes widened at how pretty it was. A soft pink with some sort of glittery shimmer in the drink, the movement of the liquid catching the light. It was by far the most beautiful drink she’d ever seen in her life, and she didn’t want to waste a drop. Holding it in her hand, she let Harry wrap up with the bartender before turning back to her with a new look on his face. “C’mon, it’s time t’say hi to some people. Best behavior.” With a slight pinch to her chin, he led her off.

Harry’s familiarity was evident in how easily he navigated the club. Winding through people with polite nods and greetings, he radiated the now familiar air of power. It was a little different here, though. While he always held the power in the bedroom, there was something that had snapped on his face when they walked in the room that had her ever curious about his past experiences here. Experiences she wouldn’t ask about for her own sake of delicate feelings, but things that he must have done, said, experienced in this secret cove of underground pleasures.

Yes, it was a bit whips and chains-y, but there was a classy layer to it that she liked here. The weird feeling of belonging settled in her gut as his hand squeezed the back of her neck, keeping her close as they approached a slightly elevated section. Her mind was going a million miles a minute, taking in every bare tit, every collar, every hand wrapped in hair and laugh in the room as he led her up towards their destination that she had almost missed it completely.

Thankfully she caught herself as Harry gently urged them to a stop right in front of a booth full of people. Semi circular, the tabletop was a bit far from the booth itself- but it was clear why as she looked down at the people.

There were two people on their knees of their perspective dominants. A brunette with her cheek resting on a blonde woman’s knee, fingers brushing through her dark hair and sparkling nails catching the light as she did so had particularly caught her eye. Instead of a tight outfit like the domme at the bar, she had on a powersuit. Her eyes didn’t look down towards her submissive though giving her physical attention, sharp hazel eyes looking over Y/N like a examination.

“Isn’t she delicious, Styles?” She purred, cat like grin painting her red lips. “Who is she? I know you’ve been gone for a bit… is she why?” The woman seemed pleased at the prospect of Harry having a new submissive, even if she looked at her like she could eat her for lunch. Her face felt hot as she looked up at Harry, the ghost of a smirk on his face.

“She is.” The confirmation had the people at the table grinning which caught her a bit off guard. They didn’t know she was temporary and he seemed in no rush to tell them- and neither was she. Maybe they could play pretend here, like she was really his and he wanted to keep her for good. The first of many times they’d come together for as long as they felt so inclined. “This is Y/N. She’s been a wonderful little pet for me. My favorite.” A hand fondly ran over her hair, a little smile on his lips now as he was happy to show her off. “She’s a little new to this, but very eager to learn. So tread lightly, yeah?”

For some reason the information being told didn’t offend her. Maybe if someone else here seemed like it was funny to them, if they’d scoffed, did anything but look understanding she would feel that shame, but they didn’t. They simply nodded, letting Harry slip into the end of the booth. “On my lap for now, Pet.” He patted his thigh, holding his ringed hand out for her to take.

Y/N could feel eyes on her as she nodded, a quiet ‘yes sir’ leaving her lips as she was adjusted over his lap, legs over his thighs as he wound his arm around her waist to keep her body steady. “Say hello.” The words weren’t disguised as a request. It was clearly an order. Why did she find it so hot?

“Hello. It’s nice to meet you all.” She peeped, leaning into Harry’s touch as he gave her a squeeze of reassurance. It was pretty clear on who was a dominant at the table, versus the submissive. Two were on their knees, two sitting under their dominant’s arms, and one in a similar position to Y/N.

“Is it your first time here?” A man asked this time. His voice was softer spoken but there was an edge to him that screamed that he was in charge. It was a little similar to Harry in which he looked kind, but anyone with sense would know not to question their particular brand of authority.

“It is, yes. H-Sir was helping me adjust before I came here. He is the best teacher.” Throwing in a bit of praise for the dominant had the desired affect, lips brushing her cheek in a chaste kiss.

“What are your thoughts? It’s intimidating, isn’t it?” The woman from before asked curiously, though the hungry spark didn’t leave her eye until Harry spoke to her.

“I’m not sharing her, Cara.” He said lowly, his hold tightening on her. “She’s not on the menu. Look but don’t touch.” There was a slight edge to his voice though it wasn’t hostile quite yet. Secretly, Y/N let herself preen over the possessive nature being shone through. Knowing he had no desire to let anyone else have a taste of her was beyond comforting- which, she knew was entirely ironic considering the context in which they met.

“Oh, boo.” She sighed. “You’re very beautiful. Harry’s not fond of sharing his chips either so I should have known, but there’s no harm in trying.” The demeanor shifted slightly to something lighter. “My girl likes to have playmates sometimes, but we’re a little picky.”

Y/N could only imagine. If Harry expressed desire to add someone in for a scene she wouldn’t be too fond of letting just anyone in… but then again, she didn’t want to share in at all in the first place. It wasn’t a closed minded thing, more so the idea of someone else taking his attention away from her making her stomach ache.

“It’s good to be picky.” Harry nodded. “But my girl isn’t up for shared scenes. I don’t think I’ll ever want to share her.” Fingers brushed over her cheek, still cool from his drink. “I don’t think anyone can blame me for being selfish with a beauty like this.”

Heat flooded her body, a shy smile on her lips as she looked at him and watched his eyes darken. His pupils dilate. There was no question in her mind that there was truth to his words in this way she had just witnessed them, but it still felt unreal. “You wouldn’t want to share me either, would you?” The words had been softened just for her consumption, the moment being looked over by the others who began talking amongst themselves. For them, though, they were in their own little bubble.

“No, sir.” The whisper matched his own volume, but the answer made him pleased. She could tell by the look on his face, lightening her own mood just by that alone. Y/N never knew how much she would truly enjoy this sort of thing, never understood how much Harry would change her life, but she was here now and it felt far more intense than one could imagine.

“Then we’re settled, yeah? They can watch us, but m’not gonna let them touch you. Nor me.” The addition made her giggle, though it was cut off when he caught her lips in a soft kiss. Gentle pressings over her mouth, she counted three before he pulled back and rubbed over her chin. A wistful look followed, his eyes full of contemplation as he looked her over. Back and forth, his thumb swiped the remnants of the kiss before he let himself out of the mindset, leaning back into the booth. “Since you’ve had your greetings, I want you on your knees for me.” Reaching behind him he got a little cushion, dropping it on the floor. Spreading his legs out, he motioned for her to get between them. At least he was thoughtful with her poor knees.

Y/N was weirdly excited for it. Slowly sinking down and settling with her heels touching her bum, she looked up at him expectantly as he watched her get settled in her new position. It felt… right, being here. Like this. Looking up at him as he spread his legs and looked down at her with a practiced patience on his face. “Sit quietly like a good girl. We’re going to go watch that show in a room in 20 minutes. If you can behave here, I’ll make sure you cum tonight.”

Y/N knew what he meant. Not to provoke him and get him hard. As much as she wanted to do that, wanted to mouth at his cock and be a brat so he’d force it in her mouth,’or her over his lap to redden her ass, she wasn’t quite that brave yet. Tonight was to prove she could be a good girl for him, the best she could be. Maybe if she was good enough, he’d tell her that he was keeping her.

Listening to his order, she rested her cheek on his thigh and closed her eyes as she found herself in the situation the other woman had been when they’d arrived at the table. His fingers sprawled through her hair as he talked quietly amongst friends, twirling tendrils between his digits as he got to the ends of it. Every so often the submissive could feel his eyes look down at her, which had her opening her eyes and smiling up at him. The pleased expression he had each and every time had her wondering if he knew what went through her mind.

If he told her to break up with Danny? She probably would. If he confessed that he had feelings for her, that he wanted her as his real partner, submissive or not, she would release herself from the other relationship she was having major doubts about anyways and go to him. Belong to him seriously.

Even being on her goddamn knees in front of him at a kink club, she felt more appreciated than she ever had. Even when he called her a dirty bitch, a nasty whore, a cockslut, she felt more worshiped and heard and ultimately cared for than she ever had. Harry listened to her. There was never a singular time since they’d started this arrangement that he hadn’t thought about her wants or safety in great detail. He hand fed her fruit he sliced by hand after scenes, brought up juice to her mouth and whispered to her to have sips after he was finished ruining her body. He broke her apart, yeah, but he built her back up again. Even better than he had first found her, if she was being honest.

Never in her life has she felt as heard, scene, and adored as she did when Harry gave her aftercare. When he texted her through the week to make sure she had a good day. When he asked her her favorite color the first day they met and made sure she had light pink straws in her drinks each and every time. Harry paid attention to her. Not just in scenes, where he seemed to pick apart her every reaction and know just how much she could handle, but last night too. He could feel her upset, did what he could to fix it. Proved yet again that he was the better option of the two.

What was stopping her?

Fear. Not of Harry, not of Danny, but fear of losing this feeling. She’d end up alone again, wistful for this exact scenario where she knew she couldn’t get it again. No one else would be able to make her feel the way Harry felt in her body and her mind and that was fucking terrifying. Admitting that only to potentially be rejected was worse than staying in a bad relationship. Maybe she was a coward- she knew she was- but she needed his promise. His words. Too many times in her life she had been let down, let her heart hurt and chip and bruise. A rejection from him would shatter her heart and all the work she had put into mending it and the wall she had tried to build up to make her softness toughen up a bit would be inconceivably damaged.

Times like tonight, meeting his eye and watching him tuck her hair behind her ear as she rubbed her face against his knee, she swore she could see the golden flecks of longing in his eyes too. When they were in bed after their scenes and his arms wrapped around her so he could haul her back into his body, she could feel inklings of something more under her skin. Even when he’d greeted her last night with a kiss in his driveway, a kiss she knew would lead to nothing sexual and just a genuine token of affection, she had felt that something was more with him. And yet she was frozen with fear every time she went to ask him how he felt about her. Terrified that he would reject her and their entire dynamic would be screwed.

Little did she know, he had the same dilemma.

Watching her nuzzled into him, sitting so fucking perfect and pretty and meeting his eye with those gorgeous fucking smiles, she looked so content with him. Like she was made to be in this exact scenario. He’d never felt more proud of having someone on his arm, and yet she wasn’t actually his. He just wasn’t sure how much longer he could last without spilling those feelings towards her.

His holdback was the fact that she was the one in a relationship. She’d tried to mend things with Danny, but part of his confusion was knowing if she did it because she wanted to or if he had stupidly pushed that by trying to do the right thing about it when she expressed her resentment towards him. All he wanted to do was make the girl happy. It was only a few months of knowing her. He shouldn’t feel this much, so soon.

Realistically he knew that it was likely because they shared such intimate parts of themselves with one another. This dynamic, lived in even if only on the weekends, was intense and serious and Y/N leaned into every bit of it with an eagerness only matching her nicknames sake. A puppy. So fucking sweet, she’d roll over and show belly if he asked her to right now, but instead she was content with her face on his leg and his hand in her hair.

His mind wandered to what it could be like if she left the other man. If she walked away and went into his arms, let him show her how he could treat her so much better. What she didn’t know as well was he was still holding back a bit. Emotionally, more so.

His heart felt like it was in his throat when he grazed his fingers past her cheek, watching her lashes lift off her cheek so she could give him her eyes. “You’re bein’ perfect for me, Pet.” He murmured, watching as she preened. His words always seemed to have a significant effect on her but the girl was slipping into a more submissive state with him here. It was his job to take care of her, to show her the things she’d been missing out on and desperate to experience. “Are you ready to go and watch?”

“Yes, Sir.” She lifted her cheek from his knee and angled her head back, allowing him to tap his fingers over her chin and get a smile from her. Everything felt more loaded than they could talk about right now, but she was doing exactly what she needed to do. Falling into line so perfectly that Harry really didn’t have much he needed to correct. Pride filled his chest as he let himself smile back at her, nudging her to stand up.

“Lets go then. Stay with me.”

—-

Y/N wasn’t sure what she expected in this scenario, but she knew there was nothing that would be realistic in her mind that could have prepared her for this night. Walking into the room where the scene had already begun, Harry held the back of her neck and led her towards a loveseat in the back. The throple on stage weren't paying anyone much mind, the room half full as the sounds of a masculine groan filled the air. The stage was lit with two doms and a sub, all beautiful in their own right.

She stayed quiet as she waited for directions from Harry, eyes on him as he settled himself on the seat. He didn’t speak, instead grabbing her waist and turning her around to sit on his lap. Back against his chest, he spread his legs and hooked one each of her thighs over his own to sprawl her out. The position left her rather exposed too, but the thrill of it caught in her chest as she felt the thick of his cock against her ass and his arm wrapping around her waist.

“Look at them.” He mumbled, keeping his tone quiet. “Watch.” With his chin against her shoulder, he slid his fingers over her thighs. Up and down, the touch slightly distracted her from the performance going on up the stage. It was becoming very apparent that her devotion to the Dominant was deeper rooted than she’d thought. All this time she’d been anticipating this, but all she could do was think about him and his hands on her.

“How does it make you feel?” His lips grazed the shell of her ear as he looked towards the show himself. “They make a nice little show, don’t they? Is that something you’ve thought of?” In front of the girl on her knees stood the Domme and other Dominant. The Domme’s hands held a leather leash connected to the collar of the girl, wrapped around her fist as the other hand gripped the submissive’s ponytail to bob her head on the man’s cock. Y/N did her best to pay attention to the performance in front of her, the wet heat between her thighs getting more intense as his fingertips brushed up and down the exposed, vulnerable flesh of her inner thigh. Images of it being them flooded her brain, the barriers breaking as his lips nestled right underneath her ear, puckering just so.

In her vision, there would be no Domme. The scene would include just him and her, his hand wrapped around the leash tight as a show of ownership. Her collar would be prettier, something more suited to her personally. Maybe a pink leather or more of a chain with a heart charm like she’d seen on one of the other subs at the table, but it would be one he picked out special for her. His fist would have her locks wrapped around it like a secondary leash, using her mouth and showing off just how much she could take. Ideally, it would be after she trained a bit more to take him deeper. She loved the idea of people being able to watch her, to see her take him down her throat. Being able to see how well Harry handled her, how she listened to him, the dynamic between them. Maybe at some point she’d be able to be a bit more bratty and get punished for it- having him fuck her throat as a punishment, or use his hand against her ass.

“Hm? I asked you a question. Answer me.” He muttered, nipping the delicate skin of her neck. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head. Can almost hear it from here.”

Y/N swallowed, leaning further back into him as she tried to unfurl her tongue to tell him. “I-I like it. I’m thinking about us up there, Sir.” Keeping her voice quiet to be respectful to the throuple, she tried to be loud enough for him to hear. It was hard with how shaky her voice felt, his fingers trailing over the edge of her humid panties. It was hard to think straight with him touching her, his scent all over and his mouth on her neck and the sound of the praises from the Domme, the submissive choking slightly on the Dominant’s cock.

“You are?” He sounded intrigued. “Hm. I think you’d look pretty up there. What part of it is making your poor cunt wet like this?” Fingers tapped against the damp gusset of her panties, teasing with the light touch. It wasn’t enough to make her feel much relief, but the knowledge his hand was there was enough to make her swallow back a whimper. “I know you love my attention, but I’m starting to think you’re a bit more of an attention whore than I thought.”

The light degrading made her dizzy, the arm around her waist lifting to grip her throat lightly. “Keep talking, Puppy. Quietly.”

It was hard to keep talking but she tried her best. It was a little unnerving to realize just how much mental power he had over her, but she knew she was safe. Maybe she felt a little pathetic that such light touches had her in a tizzy, but this whole night had been edging, hadn’t it? This was the main event, watching people indulge in the taboo pleasures like it was a theater show while her own Dominant teased her over her panties. “I-I like that she has the collar n’stuff, and people are watching her choke on it.” She whispered out, breathing getting a little harder as he nudged her clit lightly with his thumb. Rhythmic back and forth, just a tiny hint of his touch but it was enough to make her want to buck into it. Harry was making her feel insane, but the entire thing was playing into it.

Watching them on the stage, knowing other people were around that could see her being spread open and touched like this, the way Harry was hard under her ass, it all had her tummy hot and head fuzzy. “And I like that they’re bein’ a little mean to her. Makin’ fun of her, Sir.” Her tongue felt a bit too big for her mouth as she admitted to those things. The condescending teasing of the Domme to the Submissive each time she failed to take the full length down her throat had sent a zing to her cunt, imagining Harry calling her those names and giving the mean encouragement to get her to do her very best in front of all the other people.

“Christ, you’re a whore.” Harry laughed incredulously into her neck. “You want to be degraded like that in front of other people? Because… I know for a fact you can’t take all of my dick into that throat. S’a bit too big and as cockhungry as you are, I think you’d be a little embarrassed about not being able to do what you should be able to.” The twinge of shame melted into arousal, his thumb nudging her clit a little harder. Was it a reward? She didn’t know, but she didn’t want it to stop.“As for the collar…” Fingers uncurled from her waist , moving up to collar her throat. “I think a better one would be better suited for such a slutty puppy. Jus’ didn’t realize you needed to be leashed too.”

His smallest finger went underneath the necklace that served as a collar for the night, tugging lightly at it. “You’d need to belong t’me properly for that. I don’t collar up just anyone, baby. Is that something you really want?” It was probably not the correct time to dip his toes into the question of a more serious arrangement, but he wanted to hear her answer.

“Uh-huh. I want it so bad, Daddy. I can be so good for it, I’d love it.” Her whine was a little too loud, a coo leaving his lips as he lightly applied pressure at the sides of her throat to shut her up. The answer, the fucking eagerness of it had his cock twitching against her ass and his heart pumping a bit harder. Maybe it was just a heat of the moment thing, but the vulnerability of the moment had him doubting it was some sort of illusion.

“Mm. We can discuss that when you’re not so worked up and soaking the pretty panties I got you. You need to keep your voice down, be respectful.” The warning was twofold. He had to table that conversion or he’d get his hopes up far too soon. The slip up of honorifics, though, had been intriguing. “I’m Daddy right now, hm?”

“Mhm.” She attempted to nod as his fingers lightened their pressure. “Touch me, please. I’m achy.” Squirming slightly in his arms, another squeeze to her throat had her freezing in place before his other hand decided to ease down the waistband of her panties.

“I don’t know how I feel about you making demands, Pet, but you’re making quite a fucking mess.” His voice dropped, feeling her pulse in his fingertips. “God, you’re gonna cum so fuckin’ quickly. I can feel it.” Y/N was drenched, his thumb finding her slippery clit to rub in light circles. “It’s a little too much for your filthy whore mind, isn’t it? Sitting at my knees, acting like the perfect little submissive for me… Seeing all those pretty people playing, dressed up so nice. And now Daddy’s brought you to a nice little show. You paying attention?” He urged her attention towards the show. “He’s gonna cum on her face, just like I’ve been dying t’do. Or are you more aroused at the knowledge that anyone can look over and see your pussy being pet like a desperate slut?”

Yes, yes, yes. All of the above, check all the boxes. Y/N would beg more if she could find it in her brain to talk, but it felt so good. The light grip at her throat making it slightly harder to breathe, how he was talking hushed into her ear and the vibrations made her feel even more squirmy, his fingers on her cunt, she just felt like she was dreaming. Like this was some sort of high before the ultimate one, looking to the side and catching a few eyes on her. She’d made a tiny bit of noise before, surely making people aware that she wasn’t behaving, but it felt all too real now.

“And now you’ve gone dumb for me. I need an answer from you, Angel. Need a color before I make you cum.” He nudged her face to the side, lips resting against the corner of her own. “Color?”

“Green. I’m so good, I-I…” She panted, eyes glazed but looking into his own. They were hooded, dark, and it was obvious in all ways that he was aroused too. He showed more restraint than she did, but he wasn’t unaffected by it all. “Sir…” With little thought to consequences, her own hand came up to the back of his head and pulled him closer so she could press his lips against his.

Harry didn’t usually kiss in the club. He didn’t like them being seen in that way most of the time, feeling that those were supposed to be shared for more private and intimate moments- but Y/N had a way of making him throw a lot of his prior rules and regulations out the window. Didn’t she? He groaned quietly, licking into her mouth, trying to ignore the hot spark of arousal in his cock her hands tugging his hair closer to her had given him. For a moment, he gave in and enjoyed the taste of her tongue and the uncoordinated mess that was their kiss. He took the moment to slip two fingers into her cunt, curling them into her slick hole to get her to gasp. Hot and tight, he held back another moan at the feeling of her cunt fluttering around the intrusion. It was one of his favorite feelings, her breathing picking up against his mouth.

The broad hand around her throat tightened again, making her eyes peel open again. Wet mouth illuminated by the red lights around the room, he panted against her open lips. “Remember your fucking place. You want a kiss? You ask. You aren’t in charge. I am.” He growled, trying to keep his voice down as he fucked his fingers into her. “I’m the one in charge. Not you. I choose if you cum or not, I choose if you get kissed or fuck. Your body is mine to play with. You’d do well to remember that, or you’ll be the next one on that stage.” He grinned maliciously. “And I’ve got a reputation to uphold. I won’t be as nice as I’ve been before.”

Letting up on the grip, he swallowed her gasp with another kiss.

It was moments like this that Y/N could see it. She could see this being her life, this being her night out with him. Instead of dingy bars with sports games she didn’t give a singular fuck about, she could be here watching shows and learning, she could have Harry’s fingers deep inside of her, his cock inside of her, whatever he chose, giving her pleasure that was immeasurable to what she’d ever known before. A literal wet dream came true.

Y/N couldn’t respond, nodding lazily as the slick sound of her cunt being fucked with his fingers slicked up by her arousal became slightly audible. The throuple on stage was the loudest sound in the room, but underneath it all she could hear exactly what he was doing to her. It was humiliating to be this wet, to be this close to orgasm from a few minutes of his fingers thrusting in and out of her, a bit of choking, his whispers against her ear, a few people peering over at them and she loved it. His hand around her throat, keeping her tight to his body, and she felt the most free she’d ever been.

There was an attempt to warn him, his fingers prodding right at her spot and her legs beginning to tremble as she squirmed slightly on his lap, but he could tell she wouldn’t be able to be quiet. He’d have to force her to be. “Let go. Make a mess on my fingers and be fucking quiet.” The dominant let her take another deep inhale before he returned his fingers to the sides of her neck, applying pressure exactly where she needed it to steal the rest of her breath.

Y/N could see spots in her vision as she came. If he wasn’t stopping it, she probably would have sobbed out as she shook in his arms. Cumming hard and fast, hips bucking into his hand, his words cooed softly against her ear and brought up chills against her skin as the vibrations added to the sensations that tossed her over the edge.

“There you go, stay nice and quiet. Cum all over my fingers, you perfect fuckin’ girl.” He coaxed, pressing them against that spot over and over again whilst his thumb rubbed her throbbing clit. She could feel the contractions of her walls around him, a deep breath being taken as he eased up on her throat to make sure she recovered, but he didn’t stop his prodding. “Work through it. People just saw that, yeah? Saw how good you are, amazing and how quiet you can be. Saw how beautiful you are when you cum for me. Such a precious angel.” Little kisses were pressed to her sticky skin, her mind pleasantly fuzzy and a little empty as his words soothed the orgasm that rocked through her body. “There we go, sweet girl. Y’did perfectly. Took your reward so well, yeah? You were made for this.” His praise added another layer of warm, fluffy comfort to the pleasant feeling that coated her body, the words echoing in her brain. All she could think about was how good she had been, how good it had felt. Good, good, good. She was a good girl and Harry was proud of her. “Gonna take you home in a few, baby. Just let you get a good cuddle in first, clean you up and sneak out of here. We’ll come back and you can see our new friends again.”

This whole thing had pleasured her. Not just the orgasm, but the entire place. Her head had felt calm since she’d settled at Harry’s feet, quickly getting over nerves and settling into that feeling of correctness. Ease. It felt like she belonged here, even with the underlying anxiety. With anyone else but Harry she wasn’t sure if she would have felt that, but it had just been another experience he had made positive for her. Of course he did. He was perfect.

He’d walked her through it, held her hand, helped her know what to expect but- She’d known she would like this sort of thing. Y/n had always thought about it, but actually experiencing it was a whole other beast. One she wanted to experience again, and again, and again- If Harry would let her.

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igotanidea · 1 year

Text

My eleven : Jason Todd x fem!reader

Request: Can you do a Jason Todd x reader where the reader doesn’t think she has a chance with Jason because “he’s a 10” and the reader has low self esteem.

Warining: all the typical that comes with Jay: swearing, teasing, bickering, slight innuendo in one sentence

***

„How the hell did I even get here?!”

“Are you having fun, Y/N?!” Steph yelled to her from the other side of the dancefloor. It was Brown’s birthday party and of course all of her friends and family were invited. Poor, shy, introverted Y/N being no exception to that even though she was trying her hardest to come up with any pathetic excuse that ever existed.

But Stephanie was not known for letting people off easily.

And that is how Y/N got here.

Here being the middle of the crowded club, filled with people, most of whom she did not even know. It was like suffocating, but she just put a thumb up and smiled at Stephanie, cause was else was left to do? She was practically dragged here to have fun and enjoy Friday night, damn it.

And more to that, she was forced to wear a dress.

A dress for God’s sake! Most of the time she felt insecure in pants and simple T-shirt so getting dolled up was just too much. Very much too much.

She had to get out. To find just a little bit of peace and air to breathe, being it in the bathroom or outside or wherever else far from the people.

It took a lot of effort to squeeze between the moving bodies, unnoticed by any of the family members, but Y/N was fast, flexible and extremely sneaky when situation called for so she made it out to the door safely, nearly tripping over her own feet at the very end.

“Damn it!” she hissed exhaling deeply and letting all the frustration out.

“I take it you don’t like it here either?” a deep male voice, seasoned with mockery came from the right side and at first she almost expired, but quickly realized it was just Jason.

Just Jason.

Not that she was having a massive crush on him, for months now.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack you idiot!?”

“Is it working?” he raised an eyebrow at her puffing on the cigarette.

Oh damn it’s working. My heart is definitely beating faster than it’s supposed to.

“NO!” she scoffed

“Whatever you say, princess“ Jason smirked “but I don’t think you were expecting to see me here”

‘You mean outside or at Steph b-day party?”

“Let’s say both”

“Well, I never took you for a party animal Jace, so….”

“I’ll tell you a secret” he pushed himself off the wall and came closer to Y/N. too close! “I didn’t really come for Brown…..” his gaze focused on her , eyeing her from head to toe and ended flickering between her lips and eyes making the girl choke down. “That;s a really nice outfit, princess….” He muttered and she was suddenly extremely aware of every nerve ending in her body “I guess I’ll see you inside” before she could gasp a single word Jason trampled the butt, smirked at her and disappeared inside.

What the hell just happened?!

Her head was spinning, heart jumping out of her chest, breath becoming uneven

Jason fucking Todd.

Of course he was just making fun of her. There was not a chance he meant what he said as a complement. Not an option that he was interested in her. He was a freaking edgelord, trained at intimidating people and bickering.

So why were her cheeks burning like that? Why was there a smile lingering on her lips, wondering that maybe…. Maybe …..

“Hey you!” this time it was female voice throwing her back to reality

“Me?”

“Yes, you.” a tall girl stepped into the light and Y/N could see her face. The other girl was just beautiful. Her every step showed the confidence and determination. Oh, that one knew what she wanted and how to get it. And y/n had a feeling why she took interest in her. “How do you know the 10”

“the 10?”

“That guy you were talking to. Don’t you know the scale?”

“Oh, no, please” Y/N whined “why do people feel the urge to judge each other like this? This is just …. Humiliating and freaking objectifying!”

“sorry to break it to you, sunshine, but that’s how the world works. People judge each other. How else would they get together? There are some rules to maintain, and social status is the barrier. Simple as it. Your… friend is a total 10. And so am I.”

“Right…..” as if Y/N didn’t know that. Of course she knew that was how it worked. She was actually painfully aware of that. And familiar with the fact that Jace was most definitely a 10. His ripped body was speaking for itself, and the little scars on his face, including that hated J was only adding to the flame. He was perfect image of a bad boy and it’s no news that most of the girls fall for that. To add to that, Jason was also a perfect mix of many different traits. Rough and sarcastic, but deeply caring. Harsh and violent when it came to enemies, but loving and longing for the one that were close to him. He was keeping his walls up and was wary, but once you gained his trust you get to know him on so many different levels. Y/N knew all that. And it was not easy to see herself in comparison. Boring, average, ordinary girl. She didn’t stand a chance.

“Listen, pidgeon. “ the blonde said, running fingers through her hair, fixing them to look sexier “I’m just saving you heartbreak. Stay in your line. Go back home, change into sweatpants and chat with someone online. That’s more of a place for someone like you. Do you understand me?’

“Oh, fuck you.” y/n muttered

“Mhm. Someone definitely will do that tonight….” The girl grinned like a predator and followed Jason inside.

Y/N had enough. No matter how much this would break Steph heart, no matter how much of a cowardly behavior it was, she was going home. But that meant getting back to the club, grabbing her coat and perhaps seeing something her poor heart could not take.

“Oh fuck it!” she hissed to herself again. “just get yourself together, girl. You knew that one day, sooner or later, he was going to get a hot girl. Just get that shit inside your brain and keep smiling for him. If anyone deserve happiness it definitely Jace.”

If only that little pep talk worked. But no matter how much Y/n tried, her emotions were stronger than her brain. And unfortunately she saw exactly what she was fearing so much. The blonde had already approached Jason, smiling at him innocently, fluttering her eyelashes and talking, talking and talking while he was just listening. After a couple minutes of that show, his face expression changed from curiosity through amusement and then to taunting. And then he laughed at her face.

He laughed at the hot girl.

And then he turned around spotting Y/N with tears in her eyes and became concerned in a blink of an eye, ditching the blonde and rushing towards his friend.

“Let’s get the hell out of here” he mumbled grabbing her small hand, enveloping it in his and simply leading her out.

Y/N should not have felt so good having his attention and care. She shouldn’t have let him do all that. She shouldn't have enjoyed his warm hand holding her and sending heat waves all over her. She should have told him to stay and relax and have fun, to forget about her, but she just couldn’t do any of that. She wanted him. She needed him to ease her pain and soothe her and hold her and to be with her and never, never, never let go. Stupid, selfish silly girl.

“Y/N.” Jason grabbed her chin and forced her to look up at him the second they were back outside.

“Please, don’t ask me who hurt me. Please, don’t use that words ‘cause I will break under the weight of your care.” She thought “care that is not mine for the taking….”

“Who hurt you?” he asked exactly what she was fearing. And then she truly could not hold it back any longer as her body started shaking and she found herself in his warm, calming, protective embrace, sobbing desperately, unable to form any coherent words, just crying into his chest. “Shhhh. Just tell me. I will make it right, I promise.”

“No….” she sobbed and it made him pull away and look at her.

“What do you mean ‘no’? Y/n/n? What is going on? Whoever made you sad does not deserve to breathe.”

“Jason, please just let go off me. Please, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t let you do this anymore.”

“Do what, love?”

“Stop calling me that” she struggled against him, but he was too strong and kept her close. “Why can’t you see? You’re a 10! I don’t even reach within the scale! You should find yourself the girl in your league! Why can’t you just stick to the rules!”

‘You’re unbelievable.” He chuckled shaking his head “truly unbelievable.”

“Stop making fun out of me! You shouldn’t…. You can’t …..” she hiccupped

“That is really bold of you to start a sentence like this. Telling me what do. But go on, I'm listening carefully.”

“I’m not good enough for you! I’m no one! And you…. you’re you! We’re not supposed to even be seen together! It will ruin your reputation and ….”

“My reputation….” He almost laughed “dammit, love. Are you done?” he locked his hands on her waist and it made her eyes grow wide. Something was terribly wrong here.

“No, I ….”

“Too bad.” He interrupted her, pulling her closer and she immediately put hands on his toned chest to separate their bodies. Grave mistake since feeling all that muscles only made her want him more. Again. “Cause now I will speak and you will listen, baby.”

“Baby?”

“You’re gullible. Self-conscious. Oblivious as fuck. Why? Why can’t you see that I don’t give a damn about should, could, must or mustn’t. I do what I want. Screw the rules, which are fucking stupid by the way. Me being a 10, shit!” now he laughed for real and that wonderful, rare sound made her close her eyes, indulging in this. “Like I care!”

“But you are! For me!’ it just slipped through her mouth without her thinking “shit, did I say that out loud?”

“I’m glad you did.” He leaned forward a bit, testing the waters, and when she did not pull he back just put his lips onto hers, his grip on her tightening, her hands tangling in his hair. She was making out with him. In front of a public premise. Where everyone could see.

“No…” she pulled back upon realizing what was happening “this is wrong….”

“Stop being stubborn” he muttered resuming kissing her, this time harder, more intensely, that sudden craving of her taking over him. He finally had her without all her inhibitions and doubts. He had her in his arms.

“Jace….?” She asked hesitantly when he cut the kiss and leaned his forehead on hers.

“You’re right y/n. You don’t fit the scale. Cause sure as fuck you are my 11.”

“But….”

“Oh, no, baby, forget it. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you, but I’m not letting you go away from me now that I have you.”

“Is this real?” she mumbled.

“Let’s see about that.” He smirked and kissed her again. And again. And again. Proving that this was not just a crazy dream of a delusional girl, but deep honest feelings on his part.

He loved her.

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guitarstringed-scars · 3 months

Text

how to lose a guy in 10 days- t. oikawa

masterlist

day zero

you sit in the paper room, editing every last one of your pages for this weeks paper. your pages are filled with advice. “what to do if i caught my boyfriend cheating on me, and he doesn’t know i know?”, “how to make new friends in college?”, “what can i do if my best friend from back home is ghosting me?”. as you read over them, you feel a slight sense of pride about how many people you’ve helped with your advice. i mean, the reviews are glowing. you cant walk on campus without someone coming up to you and commending you on your column, but you also feel a slight sense of embarrassment.

you wish you were out like your roommate, koushi, writing about the actual news around the school, or your other roommate, tetsuro, covering sports events.

your thoughts are interrupted when your fourth and final roommate, yui michimiya, slams open the door to the room. she's crying, you notice quickly, due to her loud sobs. she quickly crosses the room to her designated seat next to you and throws herself into it as the other club members rush around her.

“whats wrong yui?” you ask, helping her unpack her computer from her bag.

“he dumped me!” she exclaims before her sobs grow louder. you shoot a look to hitoka as yui buries her head in your shoulder.

“what’d he say?” tetsuro asks, making himself comfortable in the seat next to her. that guy loves gossip so it’s no surprise he’s there as soon as he hears a snippet of it.

“he said it wasn’t working!” she burrows deeper into your shirt, you can feel her damp tears, and hopefully not snot, hit your shoulder.

“and what did you say?” keiji asks, not even looking up from his computer. you’ve all heard this story from yui plenty of times before.

“w-well, i dropped to my knees and begged him to stay! i said, honey-muffin, please you cant do this to me! please please please-”

you cut her off, as the other present club members sigh, most of them returning to their work, except for tetsuro.

“and you were dating for how long?” you ask.

“um…. about 2 and a half weeks.”

you stare at her, with a disappointed look.

“oh y/n i didn't even think i was ugly until i got to college and now i just keep getting back to back dumped because of it!”

“i don’t think its cause of your looks yui.” tetsuro answers, before turning back to his work.

“hes right, its defientely not because of your looks. and i mean this in the sweetest way, but i think it may be the way you act.” you look at her with a nervous grin.

she cocks her head at you, “what?”

“i mean, don’t you think maybe… just maybe its because of how clingy you might be? i mean especially after 2 weeks…” you trail off, careful not to upset your best friend.

surprisingly she answers cheerfully, “no, that cant be it!”

you let out yet another sigh before it hits you. maybe you could help out yui with an article.

“how bout this, i’ll write a column for you, to prove its not because of your looks.” you stand up and approach shimizu and keiji as they talk over their pages.

“hello bosses!” you greet, they don’t turn to you. “i was thinking of doing a how to, on how to lose a guy in 10 days. thoughts? it’ll help people know what NOT to do in a relationship!” you give them your cheesiest grin, and they dismiss you with a simple “sure, do that.”

with that lackluster approval, you head back to your seat, pulling out a notebook. in big letters at the top, HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS. below that, THE PLAN!

step one: find a guy

step two: get him interested

step three: be the worst

step four: he breaks up with me in less than 10 days

yui looks over your shoulder as you write. “well lets go find a guy tonight, we should do roommate party night anyway! i need to get over my breakup…”

you smile, “great plan!”

toru oikawa is standing in the middle of the bar, surronded by the rest of his volleyball team, give or take a few.

“i mean between oikawa and me, im defienitely easier to fall in love with.” atsumu miya protests.

“yeah right, i could make any girl fall in love with me.” toru retorts back

“you wanna bet on it?” daichi throws out.

“sure. lets add some stakes. i could make any girl fall in love with me in less than 10 days.” toru smirks after saying this. as he leans on the counter, he spots a girl from across the bar. shes beautiful, he thinks. “her. i’ll make her fall in love with me in less than 10 days.” he points her out in the crowd.

“her?” koutaro exclaims, “she’s wayyy too pretty for you!” the boys all burst out laughing.

toru simply rolls his eyes. “watch and see!” with that he waltz over to her. to you.

“toru oikawa.” he smiles, putting out his hand to be shaken.

“i know who you are, i’m y/n l/n” you smile, shaking his hand.

“oh really?” he says, leaning in closer to hear you, ears ringing from the loud music playing.

“yeah, you play volleyball.” you laugh, “thats where my knowledge of you ends though.”

toru laughs with you. “don’t worry, you can have the chance to learn more at any time.”

“was that a pickup line?” you quirk your eyebrow at him.

“possibly.”

“how bout you walk me home tonight, and then tomorrow you can start using those pick up lines?”

"works for me.”

a/n: first chapter woohooo!!! theres a lot of writing in this, but more smau in future chapters, just gotta get the basis down! also taglist will be in the replies because it is NOT working for some reason.

#haikyuu #haikyuu smau #haikyuu x reader #hq #hq x reader #tooru oikawa #haikyuu oikawa #hq oikawa #oikawa toru #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #toru oikawa x reader #oikawa toru x reader #tooru oikawa x reader #haikyuu x you

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siribaes · 8 months

Text

FEELIN’ IT

KOFI SIRIBOE X blackfem!reader

SUGGESTED TUNES 💿: Drank In My Cup by Kirko Bangz, Drunk in Love by Beyoncé, Refill by Elle Varner

WARNING: 18+, SMUT, Henny D*ck from Kofi lol, praise kink, semi-rough s*x, unprotected pinv (wrap it up kids)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: beware of typos & mistakes lol, and this one is for my petite girlies (*cough* self-insert) / GIF CREDIT: @tishrivers

Low rumbles of movement awoke Y/N from her sleep. Y/N stirred for a moment as the movements continued, shifting slight in her spot. She cracked one eye room, immediately welcomed by the pitch blackness of the room except the silver of neon light from a side table clock.

2:16 AM.

He’s home.

Y/N yawned as she sat up from her bed. Stretching her arms and legs she flipped the blanket off her, getting up from the bed. Y/N softly padded out of the bedroom and downstairs to the source of the noise.

She could see a shadow stretch from the kitchen and into the hallway. Smiling slightly to herself, Y/N tip toed her way to the kitchen. Her smile grew wider as she saw the culprit behind the noise.

He stood with the fridge partially open, the light illuminating his beautiful angular features. His brows were furrowed, as his coca-cola brown, yet borderline blood shot red eyes scanned the shelves of the refrigerator. Y/N chuckled softly at his expression while he had spoon held in his mouth. Y/N’s eyes traveled to the island where a large bowl filled with ice cream sat. Immediately she knew what he was searching for.

“Kofi,” Y/N spoke aloud. Immediately Kofi turned to her, taking the spoon out of his mouth. A slow syrupy smile grew from his lips.

“Yeah?”

“Bottom left drawer.”

It took a second for the information to sink in, for Kofi in his buzzed haze. It did though, Kofi’s eyes lit up, his smile grew even wider, as he turned back to the fridge. He bent down opening the drawer and pulling out a brown bottle of chocolate sauce.

“You the G.O.A.T., baby,” he murmured as he closed the fridge.

Y/N walked to the island, watching Kofi pour a generous amount of chocolate sauce onto his ice cream. He took a huge spoonful and shoved into his mouth. A groan erupted from him, a dangerous one that should’ve not sent tingles through Y/N body, but did anyway. He had that effect on her always.

“It’s good?” Y/N asked. She lifted herself up and sat on the island counter next to Kofi. She caught huge whiff of the Hennessey he must've been sipping on from earlier on.

“I fucks with this Vegan ice cream heavy,” Kofi proclaimed, pointing his spoon at the bowl.

He took another spoonful as his gaze dipped towards Y/N’s bare legs, it fully registering her sleep attire, a huge Destiny’s Child band t-shirt and short shorts. His eyes traveled back upwards to Y/N’s gaze, a bit more heated than previously.

“You taste better tho,”

“Kofi, don’t start,” Y/N chuckled, playfully swatting his arm. He jokingly cowered and continued to devour his dessert. “How was the club? Y’all have fun?”

He nodded slowly, setting the spoon to the side, and scratched at his beard.

“Yeah. Good vibes. Good music too...Tre was in better spirits since the split," Kofi mused, his eyes slightly danced as he absentmindedly scratched at his beard. He turned towards Y/N peering down at her. Large, calloused hands found themselves at the soft flesh of her legs, the pads of his thumbs rubbed on the tops of her thighs. A warmth bloomed underneath Y/N's skin, while butterflies flew around in her stomach, and dampness pooled in her panties. "You should've been there with me."

A soft moan threatened to escape Y/N's lips, she choked it back before she spoke.

"M-Me? Be responsible for interrupting boys' night, I dunno about that, baby."

Kofi tipped his head to the side, a sly grin bloomed across his lips. A flicker of mischief appeared in his eyes. He stopped rubbing at Y/N's thighs and instead gave them gentle squeeze. Y/N whimpered slightly, causing Kofi's grin to grow even more.

"Maybe it was a good thing, I was bricked up thinkin' about you, anyway," Y/N's eyes slowly trail down, seeing the large print behind his black jeans. Kofi palmed himself and groaned. "You gon' help me, pretty girl."

Y/N nodded quickly, immediately bringing Kofi down to her, crashing her lips against his. Initially, a kiss that was heated and messy, turned slow, and passionate. Kofi's tongue swirled around in her mouth, she tastes the sweetness of the vanilla ice cream and chocolate, with the slight bitterness from the Hennessey. He kissed her so softly and sweetly, that it put Y/N a daze. It was all mere distraction, as Kofi slid his right hand down her shorts curling two fingers inside of Y/N.

"Kofi," Y/N whimpered as Kofi's fingers began to slowly pump in and out of her. "Fuck, baby!"

Kofi peppered kisses on the side of her face, nibbling on the outer shell of her ear.

"I feel you tightin' up, let me see ya pretty ass cum, baby," Kofi drawled, his LA-New Orleans accent slipping through, spurred Y/N even more.

The pleasure began to pulse through her as she felt herself clenching around Kofi's thick fingers.

"I'm-I'm gonna cum baby, fuck!" Y/N mewled.

"Let go, baby. I gotchu," Kofi rasps.

Her orgasm pooled out of her, flooding Kofi's fingers. He thrusted his fingers a few more times before he pulled his fingers out of her. Y/N slightly pouted at the lost of Kofi's touch. He chuckled softly before he sucked on his two fingers, swirling his pink tongue around them.

"Turn around for me," Y/N happily obliged, she quickly discarded her shorts and panties, flinging them to the side. She turned and faced the counter. Y/N stood on her tippy toes, excitement rushed through her as she heard the sounds of Kofi undoing his pants. Y/N almost crumbled as Kofi's rubbed the head of his dick between her soft, wet folds.

"Don't play, Kofi. I need you," Y/N whined, attempting to draw him further inside of her.

Kofi's hand came crashing down on Y/N's ass, it echoed throughout the kitchen. She yelped, slapping her own hands against the marble counter.

"Relax, Y/N" Kofi groaned has he continued to rub himself in her folds. "So fuckin' hard-headed, gimme a minute baby,"

"Sorry, "Y/N moaned quietly.

After a few more seconds of teasing, Y/N's prayers were answered as Kofi finally plunged into her warmth, completely bottoming out before he began to drill into her.

“You feel too good baby," He's deep inside now, with his large hands gripping at Y/N's waist, Kofi continues to grind his dick into her, with rough, sloppy strokes. "Fuck you so tight, all this shit for me?"

Y/N could feel herself gushing at just the tone of his voice. A sweetness managed to cut through all of the hoarseness and lust. It always drove her crazy when he did shit like that. The familiar thrumming of her orgasm, hurdled towards the surface, she squeezed and tightened around him. Kofi moaned at Y/N gripping him.

"You close?" Kofi asked, already knowing the answer to his question.

"Yes baby, I'm gonna," Y/N's orgasm shot through her before she could finish. She whined and moaned as Kofi continued to fuck her through it.

"You still with me pretty girl?" Kofi rasped in her ear.

“Mhmmm, Kofi, shit!” Y/N babbled, her mind only zeroed in the pleasure between her legs. It was too much trying to keep with Kofi too.

Kofi grabbed a fistful Y/N’s coils bringing her upwards, not all the way, but far enough that she couldn’t use the counter to support herself.

“I said, you still with me pretty girl, hm?”

Y/N nodded. A sharp slap on her ass caused her to whine, a small punishment for not responding. Whether he liked to admit or not, Kofi was a words kinda guy. He loved to hear how he made you feel, even if it was garble of incoherent nonsense, he needed to know that you were there with him, present for it all. Still, the words choked on her tongue. Another slap, harder than the last, had Y/N squirming underneath Kofi. Another slap was soon to follow, but Y/N responded before he could.

“Yessss, baby I’m with you! Fuck meeee!"

"Fuck, I'm about to nut. You gon' take this shit like a good girl, huh?"

"I will baby, fuck, give it to me please!"

Kofi went into overdrive, fucking Y/N wildly. She felt him swell inside of her. His bulbous hammered at her spot, sending her into throws of pleasure, so much so she felt tears prickle in her eyes.

"You so pretty takin' me, fuck I'm cumin'," Kofi groaned as he spilled inside of Y/N. They both shook and moaned together, as Kofi slowly fucked his cum inside of her. He slowly slipped out of her, his breath on Y/N's sweat-slicked skin. Kofi tapped his finger Y/N's waist, signaling her to face him. She turned around only to be greeted by his glistening, cum-dripped, shaft. It was still hard.

"I wanna see that pretty ass face when I cum inside you," He proclaimed, slipping right back inside Y/N, ready for round 2.

#siribaesfics #kofi siriboe fanfic #kofi siriboe x blackfem!reader #kofi siriboe x black!reader #kofi siriboe smut #black fanfiction

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rae-writes · 2 years

Text

Such a Wh*re (I love it)

Mephisto x reader

wc : 1.k

warnings : nsfw, name calling [whore], mc is accused of fooling around with the brothers and other four dateables [however it’s neither confirmed nor denied for reader interpretation]

synopsis : Mephisto would rather die than admit jealously over some human so you’ll just have to make him choke on his words instead

“What a whore.”

You slam your D.D.D down a little too hard on the desk, eyes cutting dangerously at the purple haired noble, “I beg your fucking pardon?”

Mephisto doesn’t back down. Typical. “Don’t act like it’s not true, Mc, we all see how you interact with the seven brothers, Solomon, Simeon, Barbatos, and even our Prince. I just don’t see how Lord Diavolo thinks it savory to meddle with someone such as yourself on any other basis except for being an exchange student.”

While a bit dumbfounded that he was talking to you like this, you still find it in yourself to give him an irritable smirk, “Oh? Are you jealous, Mephistopheles?”

“As if. I just thought you should know how you look, flaunting yourself around like that.”

With your hues darkening mischievously, you make your way towards him, “So you admit to watching me?” Using his surprise at your closeness, you take the opportunity to grip his tie.

“I never said— h-hold on, w-what do you t-think you’re d-doing?!”

You huffed out a ‘cute’, grin getting impossibly sharper at his sudden stuttering. Swiftly, you undo the knot and yank the accessory off, using it to tie his hands behind his back.

Trying to choke out a proper sentence, Mephisto gapes at you, eyes widening when you mutter a spell to make the tie inescapable. “Mc! I-I demand you answer me!”

“What’s it look like, pretty boy? ‘M being the whore you seem to so desperately want me to be— and I’m not even going to charge you for the front row seat you’re in.”

His breath quickens as you shove him back into a chair, eyes darting from you to the door that’s only half closed; anyone could walk in here- it was the newspaper club’s office room.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head.” With a wave of your hand, the door slams shut and locks itself. “No one’s gonna see you all embarrassed and humiliated but me today.”

“N-no one h-humiliates me.”

You lick a stripe up his neck, working on undoing his school shirt buttons after opening his blazer, “Watch me.”

It takes less than a minute- to expose his chest and tug his pants down just enough to free his leaking cock. Mephisto can’t decide whether it’s because you’ve had practice or because in this position, he’s more pliant than he’s ever been. He chooses the former to save face.

“You know, for having such an ugly mouth, you sure are pretty. Pretty eyes, pretty hair, pretty body…” your eyes flit downward with an amused twinkle, “Pretty dick.”

Mephisto swallows the gasp that wants to escape at your words, instead choosing to screw his eyes shut and tilt his head back. Wrong move.

Because now you're attacking it with sucks and bites, leaving no patch of skin untouched by your lips, and he can feel the bruises forming, feel the sharp bloom of pleasure when you bite down harder and it makes him keen.

And you know he’s given up his facade when he doesn’t even acknowledge the sounds he’s making, especially when his hips jerk as you grip the base of his cock.

“C’mon, ‘phisto.” Your free hand grips his jaw and yanks his head down so brilliant green hues are staring back into yours; one eye still holds your own color while the other is a mix of blue, pink, and yellow. “Don’t you think ‘m pretty too?”

Yes his brain supplies, but nothing comes out of his mouth other than a strangled groan. And when you pout at his lack-luster response, he feels the need to get on his knees and praise you until you’re smiling again.

Moving down his tensed up figure, you come to a stop in front of his legs and wrench them apart so you can fit in the middle. “Maybe I need to go ask someone else? Maybe…Lucifer?”

Hearing his rival's name while you’re inches away from his cock makes Mephisto strain against the bindings keeping his arms in place, eyes glaring down at you heatedly.

“No?” You hum in mock thought, swirling your tongue around the tip of his cock absentmindedly, “Then tell me I’m pretty.”

“F-fuck, you’re pretty, you’re so fucking pretty, Mc.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes!” The noble groans, “Especially when you’re looking at me.” He doesn’t even care about his pride on the line here as long as he keeps your—

“Attention, hm? That’s what gets you going, is my attention? Why didn’t you just say so, silly demon.” You wrap your lips around him, taking his cock all the way down so casually he almost thinks he’s dreaming.

“S-shit! Oh, fuck, f-fuck!” Mephisto feels you laugh freely, sending his back arching at the vibrations. He knows his cheeks are ablaze, embarrassingly so, but- “P-please, please don’t stop!”

Laughing again, you come off his cock with a pop, using your hand instead so you could coo at him, “Look at you, Mephisto. Whining, begging, and trembling because of me.”

He tries to shake his head to deny it, but it only adds to his thrashing as he feels himself getting closer and closer to that delicious edge.

“I think…” You dig your tongue harshly into his slit, making him cry out so loud it bounces off the walls, “I think you’re the whore.”

At that, Mephisto just falls apart in your hands, toes curling in his shoes while his body shakes so much he’s almost afraid he’s gonna fall off the chair he’s on.

It’s a gorgeous sight. Purple hair all mussed up, cheeks a pretty dark pink, eyes half lidded, and tongue lolling out just the slightest amount. His chest, framed by the wrinkled uniform, is streaked with white, as are his blazer and pants. It’s such a sight that you can’t help but…

The sound of a shutter going off brings Mephisto back to reality, weakly opening his eyes to see what the noise was. What should be a cold wash of dread is instead a shock of heat forming in the pit of his stomach as he watches you hold up his camera.

You take your time connecting said camera up with your D.D.D, successfully transferring the picture over. It’s only when you place the electronics down does he finally speak.

“So what? You gonna leak that to everyone now that you’ve done your part at humiliating me?” Although he can’t help but find the predicament he’s landed himself in very hot, he still has a sliver of nervousness in his tone.

“Course not.” Walking back over to him, you lick some of the cum off his chest, “Looking like this? You’re all mine.” You savor the taste a bit more theatrically than you should, but the whimper that escapes Mephisto is all too worth it.

“M-Mc—“ he’s cut off by your lips crashing onto his and he doesn’t waste a single second in kissing you back, bullying his tongue into your mouth impatiently.

You moan at him in return, tangling your tongue with his before you pull back, a little breathless from the encounter, “Pretty, pretty, Mephistopheles…” Capturing him in another kiss, you make sure this one is slow and sensual to keep his attention on you.

It works. He doesn’t even realize you’ve undone your spell or that you’ve begun untying his restraints. All he’s focused on is your taste mixed with the faintness of his own and the warmth of your breath when you break away for a quick moment, just to come right back. It was intoxicating and he loved it. Craved it.

Pulling away one last time, you gaze at him thoughtfully, “I wonder if your mark is as pretty as you…maybe you’ll let me find out someday, hm?” And then you’re grabbing your phone, waving at him, and exiting the room, taking a piece of his pride with you.

But Mephisto doesn’t mind, not really. Even when he scrambles around to clean himself off and make himself presentable again to go meet up with his prince because he’ll sear his pact into you, no matter who says otherwise. You asked for it and he’s ever so glad to deliver.

#obey me x reader #om x reader #obey me smut #om smut #mephisto x reader #mephistopheles x reader #obey me mephistopheles #obey me mephisto #mephisto smut #obey me imagine

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harmonicakai · 6 months

Text

The Only Exception

Part 1 of the "Anyone Else But You" series

Pairing: Huening Kai x Reader

Summary: It's starting to feel like you're the only person in the world that Huening Kai isn't best friends with, and you're determined to figure out why.

Tropes: enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, fluff, angst

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex (mdni), reader has an inferiority complex

“I never had a doubt that You would come through I always adored you I always ignored you” —The Prince of the Hanging Gardens, Beatenberg

If there were any reason for Huening Kai to dislike you, you had no clue as to what it was. The two of you would get along perfectly fine on paper, but despite you and Yeonjun being best friends for over a year now, his roommate has never warmed up to you.

He isn’t like this with anyone else. Kai bounces from stranger to stranger, laughing and chatting away as if he’s known them for years. With you, he won’t even look you in the eye or mutter more than a few words.

For Yeonjun’s birthday party last month, you baked him a cake from scratch. It was a smash hit with the guests, but when Kai sang praises and asked around for who made it, you could tell he was disappointed that it had been you.

“Oh, Y/N. It was good,” he said, offering a weak thumbs up and declining to say anything else. You’d been watching him in deep conversation with every other person at the party, his obnoxiously loud laugh interrupting some of your own chats every so often. So why did he never have anything to say to you?

It’s not a big deal that he doesn’t like you. Really. He almost never comes out of his room when you’re around, so there’s not many opportunities for things to be awkward. At least until this morning.

You’ve got breakfast plans with Yeonjun at Seoul’s hottest new café, and even he can’t get a reservation. So, that means lining up with the rest of the city before the sun’s even risen.

You tiptoe around the apartment so you don’t somehow wake up Kai. The last thing you need is for another reason to hate you to be added to his list.

Sitting at the kitchen table to drink your first coffee of the day, you can hear the soft sound of the shower running. Great, you think to yourself. Yeonjun’s barely started getting ready and you’ll most definitely be last in line now.

While you’re scrolling on your phone to find less popular alternatives, a creak in the floorboards catches your attention. You look up to see a barefoot girl with messy hair and a short dress attempting to sneak out.

When you catch her eye, she looks like a deer in the headlights. No doubt one of Yeonjun’s many conquests from his latest excursion to the club, this doesn’t faze you.

That’s what you think until Kai pops his head out of his bedroom.

“Hey, wait,” Kai’s hushed voice calls. He steps out in his boxers and a t-shirt, the girl still too stunned to speak. In his hands are a small wad of lacy fabric—her underwear. “Don’t forget these.”

He flashes a perfect, pearly-white smile at her before pulling her in for a much-too-long kiss. The crazed look in her eyes afterward tells him that something is wrong.

When he glances over to the kitchen table and meets your gaze, his smile drops.

“Get out,” he tells her, his mood shifting somewhere between embarrassment and anger.

“Are we still on for Saturday night?” she asks, making you think that Kai must’ve really liked her to make plans to see her again.

“No. Get out,” he says again through clenched teeth, refusing to look away from you. She scrambles out the front door without another word.

Kai’s mouth twitches, as if he’s finally going to lay into you, but instead he presses his lips together and turns away. His bedroom door slams behind him.

Half of you is used to Kai treating you like this. The other half wonders if maybe you were as pretty as she was, he would be nicer. Suddenly, you don’t feel like getting breakfast anymore.

By the time Kai comes back out of his room, fully dressed and finally calm, you’ve already left.

He sits down, your coffee abandoned on the table, nearly full with lipstick smudged across the lid. He lifts the paper cup, inhaling the coffee’s sweet aroma, and takes a sip. It’s cold now.

—————-

It was your job on the styling team at HYBE that introduced you to the boys. You had just graduated college and moved to Seoul, and fashion was the only way you could really express yourself.

Instantly, Yeonjun noticed how shy you were and took it upon himself to bring you out of your shell. Now, the two of you are inseparable.

“Where the hell were you the other day?” he asks as you organize clothing onto racks. You’re not even dressing him today, but he’s hunted you down in the building like a bloodhound. A hairstylist trails him and attempts to put his bangs in a roller. “I woke up at the crack of dawn for nothing.”

“Um,” you start, looking over your shoulder. You lock eyes with him and then gesture towards the hairstylist, now clipping in lime green extensions.

“Hey, could you give us some privacy?” he asks, although it’s clearly more of a command. They nod and walk away, leaving Yeonjun with a half-done head of hair.

“You look ridiculous.”

“And you’re acting ridiculous. Since when do you stand me up?” Yeonjun pouts.

“Stand you up? You’re not my boyfriend,” you scoff.

“You wish I were,” he quips back. You roll your eyes. Not in a million years would you be each other’s ideal types.

“Shut up, Jun,” you say, walking towards the storage closet to grab a steamer. He follows.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll stop busting your balls. Just tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s Huening Kai. I sort of… walked in on him… with a girl.” Yeonjun’s eyes go wide.

“Holy shit. Like they were in the act? Please tell me this wasn’t on the couch or in the kitchen or—”

“No, ew. She was just on her way out.” Now he’s rolling his eyes at you.

“Come on, Y/N! Why’s that such a big deal? He has girls over all the time.” The last statement makes Yeonjun stop himself and regroup. “Well, I mean, every once in a while. Look, what I’m trying to say is that Huening isn’t a virgin, okay?”

“This is the first I’ve seen or heard of any of this,” you state. The only Huening Kai that you really knew was the innocent maknae role that he played up for the cameras. Plus, you figured with how often you were over, you would’ve noticed another girl at least once.

“Well, we try to not talk about our sex lives around you too much.” That’s a lie. Yeonjun loves talking about his sex life.

“Thanks, I guess? Is that because I’m a girl?”

“No,” he replies. “It’s because Hyuka asked us not to.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And why would he do that?”

“I don’t know. I don’t care. So what was so bad about seeing him with some girl?”

You don’t really know how to put your feelings into words. Your hesitation makes a sly grin spread across Yeonjun’s face.

“Y/N… you’re not jealous, are you?”

“Oh my god, no! I’m just… confused, I guess. I kind of figured that he wasn’t very good with girls, considering that he never wants to have a conversation with me.”

“Trust me, Huening is very different when he’s had a few drinks. You’d know that if you ever went out with us.”

“You know clubs aren’t really my thing.”

“They could be. Come on, we’re going out tomorrow night. Why don’t you wear this?”

He pulls a sparkly black dress from the rack, a rejected look that you pulled for one of Le Sserafim's performances. Its straps criss cross over an open back, showing way more skin than you’re comfortable with.

“You know I can’t take anything from here. Besides, what’s wrong with my own clothes?”

Yeonjun looks you up and down. Today, you’re wearing a maxi skirt, button down, sweater vest, and your glasses. Okay, maybe it’s serving grandma-chic, but you like it.

“Y/N, you are so adorable. Really, just the cutest. But at the club, the goal is to be sexy. I’m sure under all of those layers, you’re super hot. Hot enough for Huening to bring home next.”

He says the last sentence with a wink and your ears suddenly feel hot. You get the feeling he’s not going to take no for an answer.

“I’ll think about it,” you say, snatching the dress out of his hands. “But if I go, it’ll only be for an hour, tops. And it has nothing to do with Kai, okay?��

“Whatever. Just don’t forget to make me the best man when the two of you get married, alright?”

“I hate you.”

“I know,” he muses, planting a kiss on your cheek and strutting away.

—————-

At the end of the work day, your feet ache and all you want is to get home and take a nice bubble bath.

A sudden change in concept meant that you had spent several hours past when you were scheduled to leave, calling designers in order to secure samples for NewJeans to wear in an upcoming music video.

Trudging into the elevator, you let your eyes drift shut as you lean against the wall.

“Hey, wait!” someone’s voice calls, sounding eerily familiar. Your eyes shoot open. A hand shoves itself in between the closing doors, opening them back up.

Huening Kai slips in, sweaty and out of breath. Despite seeing him just a few days ago, his hair has changed from jet black to a dirty blond.

You glance at your watch. Is this really the hour that idols tend to go home?

He checks to see that the ground floor button has been pressed and stands facing the doors. Either he hasn’t noticed you or is choosing to ignore you.

“Hi, Kai,” you say, contempt in your voice. If he won’t acknowledge you on his own, you’ll make him.

Kai turns around slowly to face you, his expression completely blank. “Oh, hi, Y/N. I didn’t know it was you.”

Sure, he didn’t. There’s still twelve floors to go, and it’s going to be a long way down.

It’s silent until floor seven, in which Hana from makeup steps in. Her hands are full of Olen’s latest release. How many colored contacts does one group need?

“Hi, Hana! Long time no see,” Kai says, bowing his head slightly. Hana’s much older than the two of you, so it’s hard to gauge whether that makes her easier to talk to or he just happens to have a thing for age gaps. For your sanity, you decide it’s the former.

“Hi, Kai! And Y/N, I almost didn’t see you there!” Go figure. You’re invisible to everyone. “Are you two headed somewhere?”

“No, we just happened to get in at the same time. Nice coincidence, though, right?” he says, much happier now than when it was just the two of you. “It’s so great that we ran into each other! Are you done for the day, too?”

“Oh, no! I still have lots of work to do, but you two have fun with your night. You’re both so young,” she laughs, stepping out onto the fourth floor. “And by the way, you would look very good together.”

When the doors shut, it’s silent again. You’re so close to the lobby now.

Except the numbers stop counting down. Kai looks up from picking at his cuticles and shoots you a knowing look. It’s stuck at three.

“That’s not good,” he says, although he doesn’t seem as worried as you. How can he stay so calm right now?

You press the emergency button and the line buzzes before connecting. The sound is muffled.

“Can anybody hear me?” you say into the mic. More incoherent noises reply back. “Hello? We’re stuck in an elevator in HYBE’s east wing. Please, send help!”

The line goes dead. You’re going to cry. You’re trapped in an elevator with the person who dislikes you most and now you’re going to cry in front of him.

You clench your fists and squeeze your eyes shut as hot tears begin to stream down your face.

“Y/N,” Kai asks, his voice soft. You’re too busy trying to steady your breathing to hear him. He places a hand on your shoulder. “Y/N, are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay! I just want to go home!” you snap at him, your voice trembling. “I’m tired and it’s been a long day and now I’m stuck here with you and I—I just can’t believe this!”

Kai takes a step back. Even through your tears, you can see that you’ve hurt his feelings. He stares at his feet. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to be upset.”

His words make you choke up even more, like you’re somehow the villain. You crouch down to hug your knees. He kneels next to you and places a hand on your back.

Maybe you’re overreacting. Maybe he doesn’t hate you. Or, maybe, he just feels really bad for you this one time and has decided to be nice.

“Y/N,” he says again. You raise your head and look at him with puffy eyes. The sight of his face, so full of worry, makes you cry even harder. What the hell is going on? Who is this guy and what has he done with the Huening Kai who can’t stand to even be in the same room as you?

Kai’s hands find yours and bring you to your feet. Before you can say anything, he’s wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a hug. You bury your face in his chest as one of his hands smooths your hair.

His body is warm, his heartbeat strong and steady. Yours slowly begins to match its pace. As you breathe in and out, you notice that he smells like freshly brewed black tea and ripe peaches in the summertime.

You’re so relaxed now that you don’t notice that the elevator has started to descend again. A ding attempts to tell you that you’ve reached the lobby, but it’s too late.

“Holy shit,” Yeonjun laughs from the other side of the doorway. Has he been waiting here the whole time? “Y/N? Kai? I fucking knew it!”

Kai immediately pulls away from you and exits, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he speedwalks towards the building’s front doors without so much as a goodbye.

Yeonjun does a double take, eyeing your red eyes and smudged mascara. He sits you down on a bench and places a hand on your shoulder. “What happened?”

“Ask him,” you mutter, crossing your arms. “You guys live together.”

“Will do,” he concedes. “Do you want me to walk you home?”

“I’m fine,” you say, although that’s debatable. “Really, you’re good to go.”

Yeonjun sighs, knowing that something’s clearly bothering you, but he’s already learned his lesson when it comes to pressing you on certain matters.

“Well, goodnight, then.” He pulls you into a hug and ruffles your hair before getting up. “I love you. Call me on your walk if you need to, or at least text me whenever you get home.”

And just like that, he’s gone and you’re left all alone. Tomorrow is sure going to be something, you think to yourself.

—————-

Taglist: @orangesodafoam

P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist!

#hueningkai x reader #hueningkai #huening txt #txt #tomorrow x together #txt imagines #txt fic #txt hyuka #hyuka x reader #txt x reader #txt fluff #txt angst #hueningkai fluff #hueningkai angst #hueningkai imagines

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solarmorrigan · 10 months

Note

For the dialogue prompt, how about “What happened doesn’t change anything” for either Steddie or Newmann?

Thank you!

Hello hello hello I finally have something for you! I chose Steddie for this one, since I was on a roll. I hope this suits!

[post-S2 Steddie AU; CW: Outing, transphobia, some internalized transphobia; soft ending guaranteed, though]

When he sees Hagan meandering over towards them in the parking lot after school, his queen bee tagalong, Perkins, in tow, Eddie knows nothing good is going to follow. The way he feels Steve shift beside him says that he suspects much the same. The rest of the Hellfire guys, all gathered around Eddie’s van, talking and joking before heading home, have fallen silent.

It’s a small consolation that Hagan isn’t trailing Hargrove; since putting Steve in the hospital (briefly, Steve always interjects) last November, Hargrove has mostly given him—and the members of the Hellfire Club, once Steve had been taken into their fold—a fairly wide berth. Hagan, however, has had no compunctions about hassling Steve whenever he gets a bug up his ass about something, and he’s only become nastier since he started toadying for Hargrove.

So Eddie expects trouble, but he hadn’t expected–

Hagan starts small, crowing about how Steve has finally found his rightful place: among the freaks. Steve doesn’t give anything away, no displeasure, no anger, just bored indifference – the same mask he’s always hidden behind (the one Eddie had learned pretty quickly to see past, once he knew what to look for). But Hagan pushes.

“I guess the freaks already have a king,” Hagan snipes, cutting a glance at Eddie, “but I’m sure he needs a lady to rule by his side, right, Stevie?”

It seems like an unoriginal sort of dig—calling Steve a girl, how creative—except Steve goes pale. The mask slips, showing wide and frightened eyes for just a moment, but for Hagan, who’s known Steve for years, it’s long enough. He knows he’s hit something good.

“Do all your new little friends know, Stevie-boy? What makes you fit right in with them?” Hagan glances around the group, apparently enjoying the fact that if looks could kill, he’d be dead four times over. Then he leans in and practically spits at Steve, “Do they know that they got into your pants, you’d be less of a King Steve and more of a Queen Stacy?”

And that does it – shatters Steve’s mask so thoroughly that he actually takes a step back, staring at Hagan with a kind of disbelieving betrayal frozen on his face.

The full meaning of the words hits Eddie about three seconds before Hagan hits the side of the van, one of Eddie’s hands fisted in the front of his t-shirt and the other held firm at the base of his throat – not hurting, exactly, but heavily implying that he could.

Eddie doesn’t even have to reach for one of the many theatrical voices he uses to rile people up or cow them into submission; he’s so thoroughly taken by a type of rage he hasn’t let himself give into in a long time that his tone comes out perfectly threatening all on its own.

“If you ever repeat what you just said to another person, I will find out, and I will make your life a living hell,” he hisses.

Somewhere behind him, someone—it might be Jeff, though Eddie isn’t sure—clears their throat, and when Eddie tosses a glance over his shoulder, he finds the rest of Hellfire standing firm at his back (even tiny underclassman Gareth, with his arms crossed and the meanest look on his face the poor kid can muster).

“Ah, my apologies,” Eddie says as he faces front again, flashing a manic little grin, “we will find out. And we’ll ruin your life, Hagan. Same goes for your girlfriend.”

Perkins, who had been standing off to the side as the snickering peanut gallery right up until Eddie had pinned Hagan to the side of the van, makes a choked noise of offense that goes entirely ignored.

“Tell me you understand, Tommy-boy.” Eddie punctuates the command with a flex of his fingers near Hagan’s throat, until Hagan reluctantly nods, and Eddie releases him. “Glad we’re in agreement.”

Hagan and Perkins hightail it the other side of the parking lot, leaving them be with nothing more than a nasty look from Perkins, but no one is much in the mood to chat after that. No one really knows what to say – except Steve, who offers a quiet thanks to the rest of the guys and, having caught a ride in with Eddie that morning, then asks to be taken home.

Even with the radio playing quietly as Eddie drives, the atmosphere in the van feels silent and stifling.

Asking Steve if he’s alright feels like kind of a ridiculous move. Eddie wouldn’t be alright if he was in Steve’s position – hell, Eddie’s not alright. He’s pissed. But from the way Steve is sitting rigidly in the passenger seat, staring out the window like Eddie is driving him to his execution, Eddie’s anger—even on his behalf—isn’t what he needs right now.

Slowly, Eddie forces himself to let it go (for now, at least for now) and follow the familiar roads home.

It feels perfectly natural to simply head back to his place, where they’d been planning to go before that shitshow of a confrontation, though the surprise on Steve’s face when they pull up to the trailer says that he’d thought otherwise.

“You could’ve just taken me back to my house. I wouldn’t– I’d get it,” he says, and Eddie frowns at him.

“Did you want to go back to your house? We can hang out there if you want, I just figured…” Eddie tilts his head regarding him carefully. “You seem more comfortable here.”

Steve stares at him for a long moment, blank and uncertain, before he breaks back into motion with a shrug. “Okay,” he says, moving to get out of the van.

They head inside and nod a quick hello to Wayne, who looks like he’s just woken up in preparation for his shift, and then they go straight back to Eddie’s room. Eddie’s bag goes on the desk, but Steve’s goes by the door. Eddie sits down on the bed (admittedly one of the few places to sit, but also an invitation for Steve to come sit next to him) but Steve – Steve hesitates before leaning up against the wall, by the door with his bag, arms crossed and gaze cast towards the floor.

He looks ready to run at any moment, and Eddie sighs. This thing between them is new – so new that they’ve been afraid to put a label to it, dancing around each other uncertainly for months before sharing their first kiss barely a month ago. They’ve spent almost every available moment since with their hands on each other in some way or another, though Steve has been a bit skittish about moving past making out (Eddie had thought that maybe it was the unfamiliarity of being with another guy, but he thinks he might have a better understanding of the picture now).

Eddie doesn’t want to break things by pushing too hard, but somehow, he thinks leaving it unaddressed would be worse.

“Look, we don’t have to talk about it,” he says, watching Steve, though Steve still isn’t looking back, “but if you want to…”

Steve shrugs. “I wasn’t hiding it from you,” he says, finally glancing up at Eddie. “I mean, I was, but not– I was going to tell you.”

“You don’t owe me any kind of explanation,” Eddie says.

“You would’ve found out eventually, either way.” Steve lets out a sound that suggests he may have been trying to laugh. “But it was – I should’ve been the one to tell you. That was – that was mine to tell.”

A little bit of Eddie breaks as Steve’s voice does. He’s almost vibrating with the desire to hold and to reassure, to go over to where Steve is standing, still propped against the wall, practically curling in on himself (trying to make himself smaller), but he’s not sure how well it would be received. He tries words, instead.

“Steve, I’m so sorry–”

“That was the one thing,” Steve snaps, anger tearing across his tone, “the one thing Tommy would never touch, the one thing that was off limits, even he knew– and he just–” As quickly as it had come, the anger goes, taking Steve’s energy with it. He presses the heels of his palms into his eyes and lets his hands slide down to cover his face; when he speaks again, he sounds small. “I wasn’t ready.”

Eddie couldn’t keep himself from crossing the room if he’d tried – though isn’t trying, after that. He’s up off the bed and into Steve’s space before he’s even realized, and it’s probably only his proximity that allows him to hear what Steve says next.

“I’m not ready for things to change between us.”

“Steve,” Eddie says, low and careful, “what happened doesn’t change anything.”

Steve pulls his hands away from his face with a derisive little huff of a laugh. His cheeks are red and his eyes are bright; he’s not crying, but it looks like a near thing.

“It’s – like, I get it. You’re fully into guys, and I’m…” He waves his hands down at himself, sharp and frustrated. “Most people wouldn’t call me a real guy, if they knew.”

“Since when am I most people?” Eddie asks. “You say you’re a guy, you’re a real guy, fucking end of. Anyone who thinks otherwise can fuck off.”

Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes, clearly trying to hold back a much more emotional reaction, and Eddie chances resting his hands on Steve’s shoulders. Steve doesn’t move away, even eases a little into the touch when Eddie starts circling his thumbs at the skin right where his shirt collar ends.

“You don’t have to believe me right now,” Eddie says softly. “But I like you, Steve. I like you, andI’m gonna stick around and prove it to you.”

Something about the declaration makes Steve’s eyes snap right to Eddie’s, searching, anxious and cautiously hopeful, and Eddie lets him look. Whatever he’s after, maybe he finds it, because he uncurls from himself a little after that, just enough to lean in for a hesitant kiss that becomes much more certain when Eddie himself doesn’t hold back.

Eddie pulls Steve back over to the bed after that, poking and prodding him around until they’re both settled, Eddie’s back to the pillows and Steve’s back to Eddie’s chest (Steve’s never said as much, but Eddie’s gathered that this is one of his favorite positions to cuddle in; he doubts if Steve’s spent much time being the little spoon).

“Tell me something else,” Eddie says, once he’s got his arms wrapped securely around Steve’s waist.

“What?” Steve asks.

“Tell me something that you want me to know.” Eddie leans forward to press a kiss to Steve’s temple. “Anything.”

For a moment, Steve is quiet, thinking as he traces absent patterns over Eddie’s forearms. “I could tell you why I picked Steve,” he says finally.

“If you want to, I’d love to hear it,” Eddie says.

“It wasn’t because it was sort of close to my… old name. That was actually kind of a coincidence.” Steve lets his head fall back against Eddie’s shoulder, the tension that’s been wound through him for the last hour finally starting to ease. “Steven was my grandad’s name.”

“Yeah?” Eddie prompts softly.

“Yeah. My mom’s dad. I used to spend a lot of time over at his house when I was a kid. Before he died. I kind of got the feeling he liked me more than my parents did.” Eddie gives Steve a squeeze around the middle. “But he used to tell me all these stories about fighting in World War II. Probably not very age-appropriate, now that I think about it, but at the time I really ate it up.

“He didn’t really, like… glorify it, I don’t think? He just kind of told me what happened, good or bad, and whatever the story was, I always thought he sounded, y’know – strong and brave. And when I wanted to pick a new name…” Steve shrugs against Eddie. “I kind of hoped he wouldn’t mind sharing his with me.”

“Bet he’d be honored,” Eddie says, giving Steve another little squeeze.

“Some days I’m not so sure,” Steve says quietly.

“Well I am. I’ll just have to stick around and prove that to you, too,” Eddie says decisively.

Briefly, Steve’s hands tighten where they rest on Eddie’s arms. “I like the sound of that,” he says, and Eddie turns so he can press another kiss to the side of Steve’s head.

“Good,” he says. “Me too.”

#221expressions #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #transmasc steve harrington #stranger things #does this make a whole lot of sense? probably not!#is it some really soft hurt/comfort though? yes.#tw outing #tw transphobia #solar wrote #answers from solar #this is the last fic for this round of prompts but I'll have a few more soon I hope?

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chelseachilly · 3 months

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so high school

pairing: reader x ben chilwell summary: you and ben have been friends for years, but you haven't seen him much since you left chelsea for another job opportunity. all it takes is an engagement party, a bit of alcohol and a drinking game to bring the feelings you've been harbouring for years to the surface... warnings: hints of smut, alcohol use word count: 5k

author’s note: this fic has been SUCH a long time coming! it started as an idea from a request i got like a year ago asking for a friends to lovers fic involving spin the bottle, and then i got re-inspired to finish when 'so high school' by taylor swift came out. please note this takes place last summer since that's when i started writing it lol, and hope you enjoy!

You didn’t really know what to expect when you arrived at Kai and Sophia’s place, but you figured it would be a somewhat classy evening.

You’ve had your fair share of wild nights with this group of friends - the night in Porto after the Champions League win comes to mind - but you’re all a little older now and you are celebrating Kai and Sophia’s engagement, after all. You thought it would be a relaxed, grown-up party.

Evidently, you thought wrong.

Kai is already clearly drunk when he greets you at the door with a massive hug, and you can hear Sophia squeal as she comes running to hug you too.

“Congratulations, you two!” you exclaim, hugging Sophia back. It’s the first time you’ve seen them since the engagement, and you’re over the moon for them.

“Thank you!” Sophia grins, proudly showing off her ring when she pulls away, beaming at Kai. “Now come on, everyone’s already here and they’re excited to see you!”

You knew you were running a bit late, but you don’t realize how late until you walk into a living room filled with drunk footballers. You know most of them, except for a couple of Kai’s new Arsenal teammates you haven’t had the chance to meet before. Reece is here, Timo, Kepa, even Mason is in town for the night.

And, of course, on the couch next to Mason is Ben, whose face lights up when he sees you.

When you got a job on Chelsea’s media team in 2019, you were pleasantly surprised by how quickly you became friends with many of the players. During your very first week, Mason invited you to a party at his house, and from that point forward you’ve been close with a lot of the boys and their partners.

They’re now like family to you, regardless of if they’re still playing for Chelsea. Many of the boys have now gone in different directions, and you yourself left the club for an incredible job opportunity at Sky Sports a few months ago, but you wouldn’t miss an important occasion like this one for the world.

Even if that means you have to see the one person who has always made your legs weak and your brain turn to mush. The one you’ve missed significantly more than all the rest of the guys since your departure.

The one that you’re pretty sure you fell for the day he signed for Chelsea and you bumped into him in a hallway at Cobham.

Ben Chilwell.

“Y/N!” Ben exclaims, jumping up to hug you. As usual, he looks unfairly hot in just a white t-shirt and black shorts. “You’re finally here!”

You sink into his embrace, breathing in his familiar scent before the hug is over - which is far too quickly for your liking.

“Yeah, can someone get me a drink or did you lot finish off the bar already?” you joke, pulling back to meet Ben’s gaze.

“On it,” Mason offers before Ben can say anything, giving you a quick peck on the cheek on his way over to the bar.

As Mason makes you a strong drink so you can catch up to everyone else’s level, you turn back to Ben and find him still looking at you with those bright blue-green eyes and the warm smile that captivated you from the start.

“How’s your summer been?” you ask quickly, trying to ignore the butterflies erupting in your stomach from just being in his presence.

It’s been a couple of months now since you’ve seen him, but you’ve seen on his Instagram that he’s spent his summer at F1 races and on yachts while you’ve been stuck working in London.

“Good, it’s been way too long since I’ve seen you, though,” Ben says sincerely. “How’s life as a hotshot producer for Sky?”

“Busy,” you reply, trying not to blush at his previous comment. “I’m liking it, but I do miss Chelsea. You know, the atmosphere at the club, all the familiar faces.”

“The club misses you too, trust me,” Ben says without missing a beat.

You don’t have time to respond before Mason is thrusting a drink into your hand and Sophia is tugging you away to discuss early wedding plans.

After an hour or so, you’ve quickly relaxed back into a familiar state of comfort with your friends. Even if you don’t see each other as much as you would like these days, and it’s only going to get harder to make time when the season starts, these people still mean the world to you.

At some point, after you’re a few drinks deep - you’ve definitely toasted to Kai and Sophia’s engagement with at least 3 different bottles of champagne at this point - and have made the rounds to talk to everyone, you feel someone grab your hand and tug you down onto the couch.

You let out a surprised squeak, and your heart rate doesn’t settle down at all once you realize who grabbed you - who you’re now sitting so close to that your legs are touching.

The entire time you’ve been here, you’ve been trying to resist going back over to chat with Ben, even though you’ve felt a magnetic pull in his direction from the moment you laid eyes on him. You’ve been sneaking glances at him whenever you can, admiring the way his eyes light up when he talks or the way he runs his fingers through his hair when he’s thinking about something, but you haven’t had a moment alone since he greeted you.

“What’s up, Chilly?” you ask, chuckling at his content expression. “You pretty drunk?”

“Just buzzed,” Ben smiles. “You know, last hurrah before the season starts.”

“You didn’t have enough fun frolicking around the Mediterranean for a month?”

The question leaves your mouth before you can think about what you’re saying, and you see the way his eyebrows immediately raise and a slightly smug look appears on his face.

“Someone’s been stalking my Insta,” he smirks. “You miss me or something, Y/N?”

You take a small sip of your drink, staring down at your lap before answering him. Some combination of the buzz and the party and just him makes you briefly emboldened to tell the truth.

“Yeah, maybe I did.”

When you look up, Ben’s eyes immediately lock with yours, and you suddenly feel your cheeks growing hotter and your stomach in knots.

There’s always been some unexplored tension lingering beneath your friendship.

Nothing has ever actually happened between the two of you, although there are a few times it probably could have (and one time it almost did) if you weren’t trying to be professional and not hook up with one of the players at the club you worked for.

A club you no longer work for, you realize.

“I missed you too, Y/N,” he says in a slightly lower voice that sends a shiver up your spine.

You continue to look into each other’s eyes, the tension seeming to build with each second, until Sophia plops down beside you and interrupts the moment.

“Alright, we’re playing a drinking game,” she declares, setting a deck of cards on the table in front of you.

“Is that really necessary at this point?” you joke, gesturing to the fairly inebriated group of people around you.

“No, but it will be fun,” Sophia grins. “And I’m the bride-to-be, so I’m in charge.”

It’s a simple game to follow, thankfully. It’s essentially a version of truth or dare where the questions and challenges are pre-written on the cards. You go around the circle a few times, and thankfully you get some fairly easy ones, like revealing the name of your first crush (who nobody here knows) and taking a shot of the alcohol of your choice.

It’s entertaining watching the boys complete some pretty outlandish dares, and you’re excited to see what crazy task Ben ends up with when you see him draw a dare card from his spot next to you.

“Alright,” Ben says before reading his card aloud to the group. “Kiss the person…to your left.”

Even in your slightly inebriated state, it doesn’t take you long to realize that you’re the person to his left, meaning Ben has to kiss you.

The room goes silent as the implication of this settles in. You’re certain at least half of the people here have had some kind of wager at some point over when you and Ben would get together, but you always brushed it off and joked that it would never happen.

Nothing has ever technically happened between you, other than flirtation and the occasional touches. You’ve never kissed him, despite how many times you’ve wanted to.

There was one time you almost let your desire get the better of you, right after the Club World Cup win in Abu Dhabi.

You were both caught up in the excitement of the win, and you’d been spending a lot of time together outside of work lately as Ben was recovering from his ACL injury and you wanted to support him as much as possible.

You knew it was hard for him not to be a part of the win that day, to have to watch from the sidelines as his team emerged victorious. So, you spent basically the entire day with him, sitting with him during the game and staying close by during the celebrations afterward.

Toward the end of the night, you ended up alone with him in a corner booth of the restaurant the club had rented out for the party. Nobody was paying much attention to the two of you, everyone still caught up in the excitement and dancing the night away.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Ben said, gazing at you intently as he set down his drink, which wasn’t his first of the night (or third or fourth).

“For what?” you asked a bit shyly. “I haven’t done anything.”

“You’ve done everything,” he corrected quickly. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”

You weren’t sure if he meant physically there in Abu Dhabi, as you were the one that had encouraged him to come, or where he was mentally in his recovery at the moment. You’d done everything you could to help him through it, but there was only so much you could do. You weren’t a doctor, or a time-traveller that could magically stop the injury from happening, or even his girlfriend. You were just a friend with no medical knowledge, trying to help without overstepping any boundaries.

You were just a girl who was head over heels for one of her best friends.

“Ben, I haven’t…I’m just being a friend,” you said softly. “You’re the one who’s faced this setback head-on, never complaining or giving up. And you’re almost there. I’m so proud of you.”

For a moment, you saw a look in his eyes you didn’t recognize, one that made your heart flutter uncontrollably. The next moment, Ben began to lean in, his eyes flickering to your lips, and you had never wanted anything so badly in your life as you wanted to kiss him.

But you knew you couldn’t. Not when he was drunk and vulnerable and had been relying on you for emotional support for months. He was sad and confused and you knew he would regret it in the morning, and you would regret letting yourself feel something that wasn’t real.

“I, um…” you muttered quickly, pulling away from him. “We should go to bed. Early flight home tomorrow.”

Ben just stared blankly at you for a moment. “Y/N, I’m sorry, I-I’ve just had too much to drink and-“

“Don’t worry about it, Chilly, seriously,” you said, reverting back to the nickname you’ve used for most of your friendship, worried that the if you spoke his first name right now, the pure adoration you harbour for him would come through in the way it left your tongue. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

You quickly squeezed his shoulder as you got up from the table, making your way to the exit as stealthily as possible to avoid having to talk to anyone else.

The moment you got back to your hotel room, you cried over Ben Chilwell for the first time. You cried in a way you hadn’t even after breakups.

You cried because you knew he would never be yours, and you had to accept that.

That night was over a year ago now, and you and Ben never spoke a word about what nearly happened between you. There were certainly moments since where he looked at you with that same glint in his eye, and you allowed your mind to wander as to whether he was feeling some deeper for you, but these hopes were always quickly dashed when he went home with some model or bid you goodnight without acknowledging the tension between you.

You took the job at Sky, and started seeing him much less often, which wasn’t exactly intentional but wasn’t totally an accident, either. It certainly made your life easier not having to suppress your feelings for him at work everyday.

Until now.

Now, when he’s looking right at you with those eyes and you’ve never wanted anything more than to kiss him.

“Uh…” Ben looks at you and scratches the back of his neck. “It’s up to you-“

“Just do it, Chilly,” you say with a sudden burst of confidence and a bit of recklessness, turning on the couch to face him properly.

Something flashes in Ben’s eyes for a moment - maybe surprise, maybe pure elation - but he doesn’t take long to act on your instruction.

He grabs your face with both hands and leans in to kiss you firmly. He tastes a bit like beer, but he’s so warm and his lips are softer than you imagined - and you imagined them a lot.

Everyone cheers and hollers at the kiss, but you can hardly hear them while you’re so singularly focused on the feeling of Ben’s lips on yours.

It’s over before you can properly enjoy it, making you wish desperately that there weren’t so many people here and you could grab him and kiss him over and over again.

“That’s gonna be tough to beat,” Mason jokes from across the table as you and Ben are silently reeling from the kiss you just shared. “I think we should call the game, Soph.”

Everyone else murmurs in agreement, and they begin to get up to get more drinks or continue to chat. But you remain frozen in place, only able to move enough to glance over at Ben, who is still looking at you.

“Y/N,” Ben breathes your name. “I…”

“I should go,” you say quickly.

You immediately have deja vu to the night he nearly kissed you, how quickly you ran off, but this time is different - now that you know how good it feels to kiss him, there’s no way you can stay another moment in his presence without doing it again.

“Wait, please,” Ben says, gripping your hand before you can stand up. “Can I give you a lift home?”

“You’re driving?” you ask in confusion, knowing that even if he’s not fully drunk, he’s certainly not sober enough to drive a car.

“No, no, I’ll just get an Uber and have it drop you off first,” he insists. “Make sure you get home okay.”

You know it doesn’t really make sense logistically, as you live much farther away than he does, but you can’t resist the temptation of his soft voice or the way his thumb is caressing the back of your hand.

“Okay, sure.”

Ben gives you a small smile before pulling out his phone to call the car.

Once he’s ordered it, you both quickly grab your things and say your goodbyes, ignoring the curious looks and knowing smirks you get when you say you’re sharing an Uber.

Within five minutes, Ben is opening the door for you to climb into the back of a fancy black SUV, and then sliding in tantalizingly close to you.

You feel like you’re going to explode with desire for him.

“You alright?” Ben asks you after another minute has passed, and the look on his face gives you the sense that he’s been working up the courage to say something to you.

You nod, holding his gaze and trying to keep your heartbeat under control.

“Do you remember that night in Abu Dhabi, when we…”

You can feel your cheeks growing hotter as you nod, trying to process the fact that Ben not only remembers that moment between you but is choosing right now to bring it up.

“You were drunk,” you remind him.

“Yeah, but I still - I still meant it. And I still remember how gorgeous you looked that night. You always do, really, but-“

“Ben,” you cut him off, unable to hear another word from him if this is going to end the same way it did last time. “I think you’re drunk now, too.”

“I’m really not,” he says in a steady enough voice that you’re inclined to believe him. And, now that you think about it, you don’t think you saw him have more than a few beers all night. “Are you?”

You shake your head, managing only a small gulp in response as you meet Ben’s intense gaze.

“Y/N…” he says, barely above a whisper as he leans in closer. “Can I…”

“Your place,” you reply without a beat. Your brain is fogged by how much you want to kiss him again, but clear enough to know that once you start, you aren’t going to want to stop. “It’s closer than mine.”

Ben stares at you for another moment, just processing your words, before he nods and turns to the driver, asking him to skip the first address and go straight to his.

It’s only a ten minute drive from there, but you’re so full of nervous anticipation for what’s to come that it feels like hours.

By the time you pull up to his house and get out of the car, you still can’t quite believe what’s happening. Ben quickly unlocks the door and holds it open for you to enter his house. You haven’t been here in a while, but it’s as big as you remember it from all the times you’ve been here for a party or movie night.

It shouldn’t be awkward being here, except for the fact that you haven’t really been alone since the night of your almost-kiss. And the fact that your first actual kiss was less than an hour ago.

“Can I, erm-do you want some water?” Ben offers, gesturing to the kitchen.

You nod with a small, nervous smile and follow him into the next room.

The kitchen is dimly lit, the only light source coming from the hallway and the stove light as Ben grabs two glasses and fills them both with water. He passes one to you, and you thank him quietly before taking a sip.

“Been a while since you’ve been here,” he remarks, perhaps reliving all the same memories you have been since you walked through the door.

“I know,” you say, setting your glass down and taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry I’ve been a bit distant since I left Chelsea. It was just…easier.”

“I’m sorry if I fucked our friendship by trying to kiss you at the totally wrong time,” Ben says sincerely. “But honestly, I’m more sorry for not trying again since.”

That’s all it takes for you to take the few steps between you and crash your lips to his, immediately throwing your arms around his neck to steady yourself.

Ben stumbles in shock for a moment before his hands find your waist and he kisses you back with equal passion, backing you up against the kitchen island.

You moan slightly as he parts your lips with his tongue, tangling your fingers in his hair. Kissing him like this, with no restraint, is something you’ve craved for so long that you can hardly wrap your head around the fact that it’s happening.

You let out a small squeal of surprise as Ben’s hands move to your thighs and he hoists you up onto the counter, never breaking contact with your lips. Your legs subconsciously tighten around him, and the friction makes Ben groan into your mouth.

Kissing Ben is everything you dreamt it would be and more. No guy has ever made you feel a fraction of the way he is right now, and all you can think about is how good it would feel to have him inside you.

You know how badly you want him, and it’s pretty clear that he wants you just the same, but you have just enough sanity left to know that you can’t just be another one of the girls he’s slept with. You’ve liked him too much, and for too long, to be just another notch in his bedpost. This has to mean more to him, too.

“Ben,” you sigh, reluctantly breaking the kiss and feeling your heart palpitating as you open your eyes and see his swollen lips and dilated pupils. “I…I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

“Me too, baby,” he smiles, and the new pet name alone is almost enough to make you cave on the spot and kiss him again.

“I don’t just mean like this,” you say, hoping he understands what you mean. “I mean I want more with you. Something real.”

It’s the most terrifying moment of your life as you wait for him to respond, not sure what to expect. But when a wide grin breaks out on his face and he lets go of your waist to gently cup your face in both hands, your heart flutters uncontrollably.

“I want that too, Y/N,” he says softly. “I’ve wanted it from the moment I first saw you, in the hallway at Cobham my first time there. You were wearing that flowy white dress, and I was so nervous being there, but you just smiled at me and introduced yourself and I felt so…safe.”

“You remember what I was wearing?” you ask in astonishment, thinking back to your first encounter with him. You have a similar memory of thinking he was the fittest guy you’d ever seen and how you could get lost in his eyes for hours.

“Of course,” Ben smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, those same eyes sparkling. “And I remember thinking I couldn’t believe my luck that I signed for my dream club and met my dream girl on the same day.”

You let out a shaky breath, your eyes beginning to water from the heightened emotions you’re experiencing.

“I-I never knew you felt the same,” you breathe. “Why did you never…”

“At first, I didn’t want to ask you out because I thought it might be frowned upon at the club and I didn’t want to break any rules or do anything inappropriate,” Ben explains. “And then we became such good friends, I didn’t think you would feel that way about me. When I tried to kiss you in Abu Dhabi and you turned me down, I took that as your answer.”

“God, no, Ben, I wanted to let you kiss me so badly,” you sigh. “I just couldn’t take advantage of you. You were drunk and emotional about the injury and…”

“I know, I know, it’s okay,” Ben assures you, pecking your nose quickly. “Now we both know how we feel, right?”

You nod, resting your forehead against his for a moment and just taking this all in. You’ve wanted to be close to him like this for years, and to have it finally be a reality is almost too much to take.

“Kiss me again?” you ask quietly.

All you see is another quick flash of Ben’s grin before he leans in and presses his lips to yours.

It only takes a moment to escalate back to the same passion you were both displaying before, and Ben’s hands move back to your thighs to pull you closer to him again.

You can feel your desperation for him growing by the second as his tongue explores your mouth and his hands roam your body. You reach for the hem of his t-shirt and pull it upward without breaking the kiss, making Ben chuckle as he helps you in your effort to remove it and tosses it on the floor.

You immediately move your hands to his sides, feeling the toned muscles you’ve admired from afar all these years.

The sundress you’re wearing gives him easy access to where you need him most, and his hand is tantalizing close as it rests on your upper thigh.

“Ben, please,” you groan. “I want…can you-"

You’re interrupted by your own gasp of surprise as Ben tugs you closer and lifts you up off the counter. Your legs tighten around him reflexively, and the friction created makes you gasp again, this time in sheer pleasure.

“Been waiting too long for this to not do it properly,” Ben says, punctuating his sentence with another, softer kiss. “You wanna go upstairs?”

You just nod and shift slightly to try to get down, but Ben only tightens his grip on your thighs and begins to walk toward the stairs. You continue to exchange sloppy kisses as he ascends the staircase, and you’re turned on even more by the strength and ease with which he carries you up to his room.

He kicks open the door and gently lays you down on the bed before reaching over to flick on the lamp. You take a moment to take in your surroundings. Of all the times you’ve been in his house, you’ve never been in his bedroom. It’s cleaner than you expected, and a bit cozier and more lived-in than the rest of the house. There’s a book on his nightstand that you can’t quite make out the title of, and a photo of him and his family next to it.

It feels like Ben, and you feel completely at home.

Ben climbs over you and begins to kiss you again, and your hands immediately fly to his shorts to help take them off. Once they’re discarded and he’s in nothing but his boxers, you can feel how hard he is pressed up against you.

“Are you sure?” Ben asks softly, though you can see him biting his lip in anticipation as you lightly stroke him over the thin material.

You nod, maintaining eye contact as you quickly pull off your own underwear and toss them aside.

“I’m sure.”

Ben leans in to kiss you again, and you let out a sigh of pleasure as you let yourself surrender completely to the ecstasy of being with him.

“I can’t believe we waited this long to do this,” you sigh dreamily.

You’re curled up in Ben’s arms, lying with your head on his chest and an arm and a leg draped over him. You’re both still catching your breath a bit after the most perfect, mind-blowing sex you’ve ever had in your life. You always knew he would be good in bed, or at least you thought he would be, but he truly surpassed all of your expectations.

“I know,” Ben murmurs, pressing a reverent kiss to your temple. “I wish I had the courage to tell you sooner, but you’re so important to me. And a part of me also thought I would never have a shot with you.”

You prop your chin up on his chest to look him in the eye, furrowing your eyebrows. “You thought that you, a super fit, gorgeous footballer would never have a shot with me? Are you being serious?”

Ben nods shyly, as if he didn’t just go down on you until you were seeing stars and screaming his name in pleasure less than 30 minutes ago.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N, and you’re the smartest person I know,” he says, almost certainly making your cheeks redden. “You’re definitely out of my league.”

“Please, Ben, you spent the whole summer with Instagram models with perfect bodies,” you remind him, a bit ashamed of how insecure it made you seeing him all over social media with so many women you know you look nothing like.

He laughs softly before shaking his head and pressing a soft kiss to your nose. “No, my mates spent time with those girls who don’t compare to you at all while I sat around feeling sorry for myself and missing you.”

You can’t resist leaning in to kiss him firmly on the lips, your hand tangling in his messy hair. Your heart is so full of affection for this boy already that you know it’s only a matter of time before you fall even deeper for him than you already have.

“You know, maybe it’s a good thing we waited,” you say when you break apart, your fingers still threaded through his hair. “We’re both a little older and more mature now, and we don’t work together anymore. If we’re going to do this, we should do it properly, right?”

Ben smiles sheepishly. “Does that mean you’re my girl now?”

You stiffen, a little surprised by his question even if it’s far from the biggest surprise you’ve gotten tonight.

“I, um-well, if you want-“

“You already know what I want, babe,” Ben says with a soft expression on his face. “I meant it when I said you’re my dream girl. I want everything with you, Y/N.”

“Alright,” you reply, a wide smile breaking out on your face as well. “Then I’m all yours, Chilwell.”

You both lean in for a kiss at the same time, giggling softly against each other’s lips. You’re so giddy that it’s actually a challenge to kiss him properly, soft moans mixed with the glorious sound of his laughter.

You don’t think you could ever get enough of this.

And as you drift off in Ben’s arms a bit later that night, after going another round and exchanging a few more soft goodnight kisses and tender words, you make a mental note to buy Sophia and Kai a really nice wedding present. You certainly owe them one.

a/n: please let me know what you thought of this, it makes my day getting feedback 💓 thank you for reading!

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell x y/n #chelsea fc imagine #my fics

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withacapitalp · 2 years

Text

On the first day of school, Eddie had stood on their table in the cafeteria and declared that this was going to be his year.

Well, ‘86 was going to be his year. Technically it was still ‘85 for three more months, but semantics semantics. The rest of the club was confused, not exactly sure why he felt like this year was going to be different to the years of torture and mayhem that had proceeded it, but they appreciated Eddie’s insane amounts of optimism.

Then two weeks later, Eddie spotted a group of lost little freshmen sheep. The one wearing a Weird Al t-shirt introduced himself as Dustin Henderson when Eddie came over to offer them refuge amongst the freaks of the school, and there was no doubt in the world that Eddie had been right.

‘86 was going to be his year.

Because it wasn’t like Dustin was a super rare name, but Eddie had never met a Dustin in Hawkins before that day. Meeting Dustin Henderson wasn’t just a fantastic coincidence, it was fate in action.

Because Dustin Henderson was going to be the reason Eddie met his soulmate.

Eddie had never shown anyone but Wayne his words. They had always been something sacred, special, no one else needed to know. There were people who showed everyone in the world, always looking for the person that might be the one to complete them, the one who would have words that matched their own. Eddie wasn’t one of those people.

Even Gareth didn’t know.

But, every night before bed, Eddie would carefully unwrap the bandage he always kept wound around his upper arm, looking down at the words and carefully tracing them with a single fingertip.

Yeah. On Dust-Dustin’s mother.

Dustin’s mother. They were so distinctive, so unique. It wasn’t the thing everyone dreaded- ‘How are you?’, ‘How can I help you?’, or even the worst, ‘Hi’. Eddie’s words were special, and that meant his soulmate was special too.

Eddie had no idea what to expect from that first conversation, but he knew it was going to be wild. Probably some long winded crazy debate with laughter and sharp quips, and finally those words pushed out between giggles, which was the reason they would be shuttered.

What Eddie never would have expected was to hear those words come out of Steve’s Harrington’s mouth.

He never even thought that the words might be stuttered in fear, not laughter. Fear because of Eddie. Fear because of the broken bottle being held against his neck by his own damn soulmate.

Except no. No it couldn’t be him. Steve Harrington was not his soulmate. Steve Harrington was a jock douchebag, the kind of person Eddie had spent his entire life campaigning against. Steve Harrington was the epitome of everything Eddie wasn’t, and there was no way the universe or fate or god meant for them to be together.

There had to be someone else in the room, someone he hadn’t seen who was going to appear out of the darkness and repeat exactly what Steve said.

“Did you just say the words Dustin’s fucking mother to me?” Eddie growled out, desperate to be wrong, watching as Steve’s face grew impossibly whiter. There was a sharp burn on his upper arm, and he shakily dropped the bottle, hearing it shatter on the ground between the two of them.

No doubt about it. Steve Harrington was his fucking soulmate.

“Oh my god,” Robin Buckley said faintly from the background, but Eddie didn’t turn to face her. He couldn’t turn away from Steve, who was staring at him with the widest, most beautiful set of brown eyes Eddie had ever seen.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” Steve offered, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Eddie stumbled backward, the back of his thighs hitting up against the boat he had been hiding in. He roughly jerked at the right sleeve of his shirt, pulling it upward until the deep black words were visible, standing out against his pale skin.

Steve fell back against the side of the boat house with a shaking sigh, slowly pulling off his jacket and peeling back one side of his stupid button down polo. He had left the top three buttons undone which made it easy for Steve to expose his soulmark to the rest of them.

And there, sitting right over Steve’s heart, were the words he had just said.

Did you just say the words Dustin's fucking mother to me?

The first words Eddie Munson had ever directly said to Steve Harrington.

#Steve harrington #Eddie munson #steddie #steddie au #Steve and eddie #soulmate au #soulmark au #steddie soulmate au #stranger things #st #st au #st 4 #stranger things au #Liam speaks up #Writing(withacapitalW)

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burrcapts · 4 months

Text

Puffing Past Your Prime

Oh man, Zach just loved whenever this happened! Ever since their social media app took off and reached top 5 most downloaded in the whole country people started inviting him to spots like this all the time. Was this one some posh restaurant? Cafe? Gentleman's club? Honestly, he had no idea, he simply received an email the other day from one of their investors that the people here asked about him and would like him to become a regular member.

Naturally Zach had zero real interest in bougie crap like that, but usually he actually found it kind of funny to see the reactions of all those stuck up old men in suits whenever they saw him strutting into their elite clubs wearing nothing other than a t-shirt and a pair of old jeans with holes in them. More than once some of those pricks even tried to have him kicked out. But the staff at establishments like this seemed to be quite good at keeping tabs on the guests’ net worth so often they ended up sucking up to him rather than the old farts.

The waiters here were giving off a somewhat different vibe though… If Zach hadn't noticed that those few men who were always on the move, carrying trays around were wearing bow ties rather than neckties, he definitely wouldn't have been able to tell them apart from the regular guests! Places like this often looked kind of samey with everyone being old and wearing boring suits, but this was like a whole next level!

Zach had only just realized, but holy crap, there hasn't been a single person in the entire room who didn't have a ridiculously huge beard! He hadn't shaved since last week so technically maybe he was included in this, but his definitely wasn't as grey or white as theirs! The shades of their beards, the levels of baldness and the colors of their suits was pretty much the only thing that differentiated each one of them!

But one other interesting thing was that they were all smoking pipes! Even the waiters were having a puff while moving around and chatting with the guests. Did Mike forget to mention that this was some super exclusive spot for pipe smokers? Whatever… honestly, the thing that Zach found the most annoying was how nobody seemed to be paying much attention to him here. He purposely tried to be as loud and obnoxious as possible, unmuting his phone and playing that dumb farming video game that was right ahead of them in most app stores. Yet even then, the best reaction he got was some of them briefly looking at him with amused faces for a moment before returning to their previous activities and conversations.

“Good day, I sincerely apologize for the delay in attending to you Mr Bennett. My name is Theodore and I am the director of hospitality at our establishment. We are so delighted that you could pay us a visit today. I assure you that our staff will do everything in our power to make your induction to the club a truly exceptional experience!”

Just when Zach was starting to consider bailing out of here those two guys appeared right in front of him seemingly out of nowhere! The one speaking in an eloquent and surprisingly resonant voice was ridiculously huge, tall as hell, with a colossal belly like pretty much all of them. While somewhat shorter yet definitely still quite decently overweight one, standing a few steps behind him must have been a subordinate of his.

Zach began to explain that this was a misunderstanding because he had no interest whatsoever in joining their club or anything, but despite the very hospitable and eloquent welcome neither of them seemed to be paying much attention to whatever he said as they talked between each other.

“Shall I fetch one of the pipes, Sir?”

“Oh, naturally Sebastian, forthwith!”

“What kind, Sir?”

“Mmm… I surmise that one of the sluttier variety might be the most suitable for Mr Bennett, then he will naturally feel inclined to introduce numerous new, virile members to our association so they could fuck his slutty hole on the regular. Oh… one moment… yes, while I would certainly prefer him on the heavyset side so that ass of his grows truly colossal, why don't we also make him into a bit of a cum guzzling cock whore while we’re at it? Let's ensure that he always has either the stem of a pipe or a huge, turgid fuckstick between his lips! Do you think you can find a suitable one Sebastian?”

“Certainly Sir, I will return with one promptly!”

Hearing this guy say all those perverted, ridiculous things in the exact, same cultivated and graceful Männer as if he was some kind of a sommelier talking about an expensive bottle of wine would have been quite hilarious if his body language didn't make it immediately obvious that he wasn't planning on letting Zach leave until the other waiter was back. It was only now that all those old farts who were sitting all around were finally turning their heads towards him, watching the scene with utmost fascination.

Zach shouted at them to get the security because this guy was totally crazy but nobody budged at all. Rather than being concerned they seemed to find him freaking out so much more endearing than anything. When it became clear that they were all in on it too, Zach pulled out his phone and warned that huge guy that if he didn't let him go, he would call the cops.

Only then, something that temporarily broke Zach's brain proceeded to take place. Theodore took a deep puff from his pipe and then exhaled a tiny cloud of smoke towards Zach's hand that was holding the phone. It was just small enough to completely obscure it and even though Zach knew it was merely just smoke he instinctively tried to clutch the phone tighter within his fingers, only to find them clenching into fist! What the hell?! He waved the smoke away but his hand was completely empty!!!

“What the fuck?! How did you do that?!”

“Please Mr Bennett, turning a cellphone into a puff of smoke is merely a small parlor trick. Very soon you will have a chance to witness a far more impressive metamorphosis… Oh, would you look at that, Sebastian is already approaching with your pipe right on time!”

At that moment Zach remembered thinking it was kind of strange how this guy phrased it as ‘his pipe’ but as he caught a glimpse of what the other waiter was carrying on a tray, he understood straight away. It stood there, right on top of a highly adorned, golden stand, his pipe! It was like love at first sight. He never even thought about smoking one before but now they were going to be, no, they already were, completely inseparable! Its stem was placed between his teeth first thing in the morning and only left its rightful spot when he was ready to fall asleep!

A jovial, cheerful laughter spread across the room at the immediate change in Zach's demeanor as though all those men were now recalling some very fond memory of their own. On some level he understood that what was going on right now was totally crazy, but as if under some kind of a magical spell, he couldn't help himself when Theodore offered the pipe to him.

Even thanking the man when he offered him a lit match so he could puff the pipe to life. Which Zach proceeded to do without a slightest hitch like a seasoned smoker. That also surprised him, but there wasn't much of a chance to ask himself why he knew how to do it so expertly because as soon as it was lit, he found himself greedily sucking on the stem and moaning in blissful pleasure.

Oh gosh, he knew that this was his first time ever, but he felt like a drug addict getting his fix. It was just delightful, such a rich flavor! Sebastian always picked out only the finest tobacco! Zach moaned again, he was in heaven, his head was swimming as he started feeling warm and so… profoundly turned on! If he hadn't been in public, he would have already been reaching for his cock, but then again, so many of the men sitting around them already had theirs out and were merrily stroking while laying back in their big, leather armchairs and puffing along.

Sebastian was pitching a huge tent in his slacks and even Theodore was fondling himself with a satisfied smile. Zach noticed that, the first thought that popped into his head was how much he hoped they would pull them out soon so he could suck them both dry the moment he was finished with this bowl. Mmm, he just loved sucking off the other sexy gents at the club, he was such a cum guzzling cock whore and absolutely proud of it!

Zach was just about to ask them to stop teasing him and whip them out next when he suddenly realized that he'd heard those words before. ‘Cum guzzling cock whore', that's what Theodore had said when he was instructing Sebastian what pipe he should fetch! Holy shit!

Now that the shivers started running down his spine at the terrifying, unbelievable implications of all of this and the abrupt shock partially outweighed the still persisting horniness flooding his head. Zach had the chance to take notice of just how uncomfortably tight his clothes were feeling right now. He'd managed to peel his eyes away from the bearded waiters’ sizable bulges, only to immediately regret it as he discovered a massive gut sticking out from underneath his shirt.

Not only was it extremely hirsute, but all of the body fur was completely white! It made him look like some ridiculously fat grandpa! His shirt was rolling up so much that it could be mistaken for the top half of a bikini, which seemed awfully suitable because Zach could see it stretching over a pair of absolutely enormous man boobs!

As his eyes grew wide in disbelief, he instinctively took a deep puff from the pipe to calm his nerves, only to find the belly instantaneously swelling even further in size. The shirt splitting at the front and letting his huge, chubby tits to flop down on it like on top of a wide, spacious shelf. God… he was so fucking hot! Those were the first words that appeared in Zach's head, and for the life of him, he couldn't bring himself to deny them.

Somehow in mere moments since putting this pipe in his mouth, an old, fat, bearded man became his absolute ideal of beauty. Zach saw how wonderfully chubby his fingers were now and after admiring the soft, white hairs growing on each knuckle, brought them closer to his mouth. Much to his delight he discovered it surrounded by copious amounts of silky, delicate facial fur. He took a deep inhale and then began gently blowing the smoke into his palm, as if trying to catch it and massage it into his beard. Loving the feeling of it growing longer and more luxuriant between his fingers. Oh god… what was happening to him?! Why couldn't he stop?!

“What the fuck have you done to me?!”

Zach cried out before inevitably returning to exploring his growing and expanding body practically right away. One hand caressing his belly while the other reached for his swollen cock, completely overcome by pleasure.

“Nothing that any of us hadn't experienced when we were first initiated into the club, Mr Bennett. It is quite an honor, while our plans are to ideally connect all men worldwide to their destined pipes one day, understandably we first needed to prioritize those with the means to help us achieve that goal…”

He instantly understood why those bastards had invited him here. It was about his social media site! They wanted to use it to spread this shit… and make more sexy, pipe smoking gents… Zach felt a sinking feeling in his stomach when he realized that he was already thinking of all the different features they could implement in the future to spark an interest in their pipes in every single man who had ever registered. And he knew that once they had their first puff, it would then remain as their habit forever.

No… he couldn’t… and yet he was tugging on his cock even faster now, taking deeper and deeper puffs of smoke, finding it so marvelous how those big, hazy plumes were slowly escaping from between his lips whenever he parted them. He was sure that his users were going to find it just as enchanting too once he tweaks the algorithm a little and makes sure that their feeds are filled with nothing but videos and pictures of sexy, bearded gents having a puff as they play with their meat.

The temptation to join them soon becoming truly irresistible, but for that they will of course need a pipe of their own. Zachary moaned in profound arousal, knowing full well that even if a few were to, by some miracle manage to keep themselves from outright ordering one free of charge from their special internet store, they still had collected enough metadata on all of them to ensure that one would be waiting at their doorstep the following day anyway.

Mmm… Zachary couldn’t take this… he began picturing all those mesmerizing, big bellied, bearded gentlemen with their pipes! First filling the feeds of his website, then the streets of the cities all around the globe… introducing everyone they knew into this lovely habit… the biggest cloud of smoke yet had erupted from his mouth as he moaned deeply, his stubby cock twitching and spraying his massive, hairy thighs with creamy, white seed. And he simply could not wait to suck them all off one by one!

***

Zachary was quite amused to find himself back right in his personal office. Of course nobody from among his colleagues had recognized him, but when he suddenly stepped out of the elevator wearing this expensive looking, extravagant suit and holding a heavy suitcase, they must have assumed he was an important investor and asked him to wait for someone right here since, as he very well knew, that one room was still by far the most presentable part of the entire workplace that hadn’t changed much from the days when they were only a small start up.

Naturally nobody could get ahold of ‘Zach’ as his cell phone had vanished and all calls were going straight to voicemail, so the honor of entertaining him fell on Aaron, their CTO. Zachary was actually quite impressed by just how quickly his friend had managed to catch on to everything after he began recounting the events of the previous day. But fortunately Zachary had a chance to personally assist Sebastian and Theodore with picking out just the perfect pipe for him. Even though Aaron knew just what was coming, he couldn't possibly resist his invitation to have a small puff together. Or for that matter to later allow Zachary to wrap his lips around his engorged, stubby cock as they pondered about this exciting new direction for their company, and even more importantly, the best way to introduce their colleagues to all those pipes waiting for them in his suitcase.

If you liked the story and would like to read more bear themed transformation fiction, consider subscribing to my Patreon! I post captions like this and longer stories there regularly!

I have also set up two extra accounts on twitter and bluesky for caption purposes! https://x.com/burrcapts https://burrcapts.bsky.social/

#transformation #male tf #male transformation #pipe #daddification #weight gain #beard growth #bearification #hair growth #age progression

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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months

Text

i'm coming out

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'pride'

rated t | 880 words | no cw | tags: coming out, bisexual king gareth, side steddie

🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

Gareth hated to admit it, but he was jealous.

He was jealous of Steve still being able to hide under the radar enough that he could go to gay clubs and pride events without anyone batting an eye. He was jealous of Eddie being out publicly, not having to keep any part of his life a secret except for what he truly wanted to. And he was jealous of his own boyfriend, Sam, for not even having to worry about how the public would react if they knew he was gay.

"I just think it sounds like you want to come out," he said over the phone. "If Eddie can, why can't you?"

"It's not that easy!" Gareth argued, though he wasn't really sure how to back that argument up. It was that easy. Nobody in the band would care if he decided to come out, and most of the fans would be fine with it if they went off their reaction to Eddie coming out.

"Why not?" Sam asked, calm in Gareth's chaos.

"Because if people don't like Eddie, it can be for any number of reasons. He's loud, or a nerd, or too hyper. If they don't like me, it's definitely just because I like men." Gareth had never actually acknowledged that thought before, but here he was, saying it out loud on the phone to his boyfriend. "I don't want people to hate me."

"Baby..." Sam started. He sighed. "It's your choice. You know I would never pressure you to do anything you aren't ready for. But it does sound like the only person who is holding you back is you."

Gareth didn't feel like talking about it more, but Sam let him change the subject and the rest of the conversation went fine.

"Think about it, Gare," Sam said as they hung up.

That's all he did for days. He saw countless posts about pride events in the cities they were stopping in on the tour, Eddie even made an appearance at a drag brunch and left VIP tickets for the performers to come to Corroded Coffin's show that night. He thought about being able to be a part of the community in the way he knew he could be.

"Ed?" He asked right before they all went to bed.

"Yeah?" Eddie was typing out a text on his phone, probably some long and romantic and disgusting ode to Steve.

"You're going to the parade in Boston right?"

Eddie looked up from his phone, brows furrowing. "Yeah, why?"

"Mind if I come with you?"

"You're always welcome, you know that." Eddie smiled. "You coming as an ally or as the 'B' in LGBTQIA+?"

"I think I'm gonna come as me."

****

He didn't tell Sam what he was doing, figured he would have time between getting back to the tour bus and when news started hitting.

He forgot that Sam tracked alerts on Twitter for him.

His phone started ringing the moment he hit the end of the parade route.

"Hey, love," Gareth couldn't stop smiling. He'd never felt like he belonged here quite like he did today. "All okay?"

"I'm so fuckin' proud of you." Sam's smile was evident in his voice. "You could've given me a little warning though. Seeing 20 notifications pop up at once is a bit terrifying."

"Sorry. Wanted to surprise you. Did you like my shirt?" Gareth looked down at the shirt he was wearing.

"You mean the "ask me about my boyfriend" with a bi pride flag shirt? Yeah, I'd like a matching one as soon as possible."

"Yeah?"

They both laughed as Gareth found a small corner of the alley they'd stopped in to be alone.

"I can't wait to kiss you. This is the hottest thing you've ever done."

"What about that time I fucked you against my drum set?" Gareth asked with a smirk.

"Okay. The second hottest thing you've ever done. Still don't know how you had the strength to hold most of my weight for that long," Sam sounded like his thoughts were drifting to the memory of that day. "Anyway! I don't wanna keep you from having fun. But call me later."

"Okay, babe. Wish you were here," Gareth said softly. "Miss you."

"Miss you too. But only three weeks until you're home."

"Feels like forever."

"Dramatic." Sam laughed. "I love you, baby."

"I love you, too. If you see me getting drunk in a gay bar later, no you don't."

"I'd buy you a drink if I was there."

"Three weeks."

"21 days."

"You two are disgusting." Eddie yelled from a few feet away.

Sam laughed and said goodbye as Gareth walked over to Eddie.

"Not any more disgusting than you and Steve," he grumbled. "At least Steve comes with you for most of the tour."

"Can you imagine if he didn't? The world would end."

Gareth rolled his eyes. "Uh huh. Drinks?"

"Drinks!" Eddie threw his arms up and started running down the block, ignoring the yells of people recognizing him as he made his way to the bar they'd already chosen.

Gareth followed, unable to wipe the smile from his face. He was out, and maybe he'd have to do it more officially later on, but for now, this was enough.

#corroded coffin #corrodedcoffinfest #gareth stranger things #eddie munson #coming out

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hxltic · 9 months

Text

Imagine being the anonymous girl Suna gets absolutely infatuated with at a friend’s party.

🎶 BLAME IT (CLUB MIX)- JAMIE FOXX (FEAT. T-PAIN)

🎶 NEW FLAME- CHRIS BROWN (FEAT. USHER & RICK ROSS)

YOU

He’s sitting comfortably on the couch amongst a group of other guys when you walk in. He doesn’t spot you yet since you direct yourself to the kitchen. Once you return with a drink in your hand, something light and fruity, it’s easy to locate who the coordinator of the party is, considering the entire living room revolves around their friend group and whatever game was on the TV.

Yeah the rest of them were attractive, you observe, but they clearly knew it, talking all loud and sending not-so-subtle flirts to the slightly tipsy girls around them.

Except him. He sat with his arm thrown over the back pillows, other hand grasping the solo cup as the music blares.

His dark brown hair falls over his low eyes, and it looks like he hasn’t said a single word— only sending small nods and lifting his lip the slightest bit into a smile every now and then.

Your thigh-high boots imperceptibly clack on the wood floor with your entrance, but the man’s eyes tell you he hears it. He’s sharp to his senses, making no question there isn’t alcohol in his system.

•———•

SUNA

His friends aren’t discussing anything in particular, just enjoying themselves, some even too much. Nobody was really watching the game anyway.

“Sunarin, ‘yer quiet today,” Atsumu turns to check up on him. He’s not as drunk as he usually gets around this time of night, so his intentions are good.

Aran retorts, “He’s always quiet,” shooting a quick message and taking another swig of his drink.

“Not really. He gets worse than me sometimes.”

This causes Suna to lift his back from the cushion of the couch to defend himself, inducing a hearty laugh from Atsumu (that would laugh at anything this intoxicated).

“Woah woah, let’s not go that far; I’ve seen you butt-ass naked on several unwarranted occasions.”

Atsumu shrugs and Suna rests his case, returning to his previous position, shaking his head at the audacity of the accusation, and bringing the cup to his lips. He resumes what he does best: watching.

It was a good sized party, and usually he knows who will show up, but when he heard you and felt the unknown presence, he knew he hadn’t ever seen you before. If he had, he wouldn’t have to stare as long as he did.

The boots accentuated your legs, stopping at your mid thigh and leaving about two inches of space between that and your tight leather skirt. The material was clinging to your skin in a desperate attempt to cover what it’s supposed to.

Your thighs were big even under the ruched fabric as well. Were you an athlete? Why hadn’t he seen you on campus?

Suna went to take another sip, but this time, the cup lingered at his mouth for a larger amount of time. As he trailed his eyes up your body, admiring the dip of your breasts into the low-cut, long sleeve shirt that was perfect for the cooler seasons in comparison to the bras and single strands of clothes he’s seen, all he’s thinking about is the best way to throw those long legs over his shoulders and which way to flick his tongue to make your hips twist. In fact, they sway back and forth when you walk.

Your plush lips reach the cup in your own hand as you sit on the smaller accent couch to the left of him. The thighs he loves must multiply when you cross your legs one over the other and they smash together, but Suna never even knew legs were a turn-on until he saw you.

Little did he know, the most sober of his friends followed his eyes.

He leans in close, “Fuck, look at that. An absolute dime if I’ve ever seen one.”

Suna ignores him, humming half-assedly in response— but if he had known he would take it as encouragement, he wouldn’t have done anything at all.

“Hold on.”

He rises from his seat, stalking over to you. The brunette watches the whole thing unfold. A classic.

He holds a hand out in hopes you’ll take it. You do.

He uses the opportunity to take a seat and ask you about your day or where you’re from. You answer.

He brushes your hair behind your ear, because it usually works.

Of course the irritation bubbles in his stomach, but it dies down as quickly as it came. Because he notices things his friend doesn’t.

Your shoulders are tense. Your smile doesn’t even reach the one you walked in with. The leg underneath the top one bounces. And the whole time, you were looking directly at Suna.

A shameless, intrigued stare the two of you shared. The conversation with the man beside you couldn’t have been interesting enough to engage in, but you probably would have felt bad, so you giggle fakely at him every now and then and nod your head. He raises your hand (that he never let go) and brings it to his lips.

Suna’s pride swells when you don’t acknowledge it. Instead, you gaze through eyes that haven’t fell from you since you walked in. With one last sip of his drink, Suna tests you, placing the empty cup on the coffee table in front of him while simultaneously grabbing his phone off it. This darts your eyes away and they trail along his movements, negating any doubts he possessed.

Suna smiles one last time and comes to his feet. If you were feeling anything like he was, you would follow behind him.

•———•

YOU

“Hey, where’s the bathroom?” You smile at the man before you sweetly. Poor thing, you don’t even remember his name.

Coincidently, he points the direction the mysterious guy went, asking if he needed to lead you there. Your hand pats lightly on his as you tell him it’s okay.

You clench the bag between your fingers and dodge through the crowd of people, only barely being able to keep the head of brown hair in your view. He didn’t even look back.

Finally, he opens the sliding door to the backyard and turns the corner. Of course, you follow.

It’s a little chilly even with only a few inches of your body out when you push the glass to the right, then turn around and close it behind yourself. You observe your surroundings: surprisingly taken care of grass with fallen leaves scattered around, a grill on the pavement, a fence going around the area. The only thing it’s missing are some lounge chairs.

“If I didn’t know any better,” you turn your head to the voice in the dark of night as he approaches you leisurely, “I’d say you were following me.”

His lip lifts upwards once reveals himself under the patio light. He doesn’t stop until he’s less than a foot from you, taller than you’d imagine him sitting down and even more overwhelming when you’re alone.

You retort, making sure to cross your arms and tilt your head just as he did his, “Oh come on. You mean to tell me you didn’t plan this?”

His eyes flicker to your arms, then your chest.

You remind him, “My eyes are up here.”

This catches his attention, eventually morphing his smile into a downturned one. Then he’s moving again, pushing his arms back, shrugging the jacket off, and reaching around your body to throw it over your shoulders.

It was then you realized. You had falsely accused him of thinking about something he shouldn’t have been thinking about.

•———•

SUNA

He was definitely thinking about something he shouldn’t have been thinking about.

He should have never looked down.

The hanging gold jewelry rested just before the divot of your breasts. It was then he noticed the bumps prickling at your skin that signify your temperature, but even though there was good intent, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about other things that would rest perfectly between them. His hand, the growing tent in his black jeans, perhaps.

Your cheeks flush red at the gesture, and the embarrassment reveals itself in the lightness of your voice when you tell him thank you. You press your arms through the jacket and leave it unzipped.

“You can’t get embarrassed on me now.” Suna brings his finger to pinch under your chin. He brushes away the hair in your face from the cool breeze, making you close your eyes as a reflex, then stuffs the hand in his pocket. “Saw the way you were looking.”

And maybe he should have kept the hair there. And maybe he should have stayed in his seat. Because now when your eyes flutter open as he looks down at you, closer, willfully giving him control, he sinks in orbs that could easily end a man. They swam with want, still managing to be big and deer-like even with the desire lurking behind them. The only way he knew it was there was by the way you wouldn’t look back at his own eyes, but his lips.

“You were too.” Your voice floats through his ears, and you finally catch his gaze, but you can’t pick an eye to look in. His thumb comes to prod at your fluffy lip.

“You walk in like that and expect me not to? Look at you.”

He taps your hip with a finger, then nudges you around so your back is to his front. Your fingers gather the hair between you two and pull it to the side.

He presses up close, making sure his breath fans on your neck and his hands are gliding up your body. From this high angle he could really admire all of your chest that was on display for him, even as he was pressing light kisses just under your ear. They were warmth in the cold.

His fingers roll over your shoulders that are covered by his jacket. “In this dark, green shirt that matches your skin perfectly.”

“Yeah?” You smile. The last thing you thought he’d say is something you were contemplating while getting dressed. You’re quite glad you didn’t pick the baby blue dress.

“Yeah.” He sighs back. His touch creeps downwards, to your upper back, then under your arms and to the side of both your mounds. He doesn’t squeeze them together, but gently rolls his hands around the front. “Paired with your great posture, so your tits sit pretty.”

You release a satisfied humming sound that stills in the air. When he’s done feeling there, he slides down to your hips, rubbing circles into your back with his thumb using one hand, and the other lining the waistband of the leather skirt.

“And this little skirt that leaves little to imagination.” His voice gets impossibly lower when he says this one, reverberating through your core.

Before you can fall too deep into his complements, you quickly turn yourself around and rebut in the best way you know how to. Aggression.

“Is that all? Or do you want to flatter me some more?” You giggle, gripping onto his hands giddily. You have to stand on tiptoes to reach his lips.

“I can go all day.”

You try to ignore the innuendo and instead focus on the softness of his touch. The cold reddens his cheeks, softening his otherwise sharp features.

“What happened to ‘hello?’ Or ‘My name is?’”

He chuckles, and it’s a more than fulfilling sound. “I think you forget the part where you followed me out here. What if I was a murderer?”

“You wanted me to.”

“I did.”

“And you aren’t a murderer.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You would have killed me by now!”

He shakes his head, “Nah, I would’ve kept you around. Too pretty to die like that.”

You shine a bright smile at him and it’s like his world stops. Your face is all red from the complements or the cold, he doesn’t know, but even just holding onto you while you joke outside is enough for him.

“Hello, my name is Suna. Rintarō.”

“Suna.” You parrot. He tightens his grip on your hands. “What?”

“It sounds better when you say it.”

You decide to try and press his buttons like he’s done you so far. “It’ll sound even better if I’m screaming it, Rintarō.”

You almost trip with how suddenly he tugs you to his body by your hands, making sure to catch you as he was sure you’d stumble. One hand is firm on your waist while the other is at your nape to crane your neck up to him. Like a switch flips.

“I can arrange that,” he groans into your lips, then he passionately connects them while pulling your waist closer to his.

(He never got your number and only did once he attended every party after that)

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manicpixiefelix · 8 months

Text

at the other end of the leash

{ One-Shot for head, heart, hand. }

@vannyangelxoxo asked: can you write Felix beating someone’s ass for reader? Summary: You convince Felix to go with you to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in one of the last weeks of Summer before you begin your first year at Oxford University. While out on the town during the Festival, Felix finds himself enchanted with one of the performers, an avant-guarde acrobat named Magnus. The perfect night quickly goes south, however, as Felix discovers someone trying to take advantage of you, and he immediately steps in. Of course.

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons. Set at the end of Summer before Felix and Reader start their first year of university at Oxford. Established Bi Felix.

Warnings: heavy themes; reader is slipped a roofie at a club and a stranger attempts to take them home, and it's heavily implied that he plans to assault them. felix gets there in time, which leads to the second warning of VIOLENCE. felix beats that motherfucker to a bloody mess. it doesn't get super gorey/explicit but there is a lot of blood. also there is discussions of nudity, non explicit sex, and recreational drug use in the club.

A/N: 6053 words. well, would you look at that. another request that got outrageously out of hand. this is also a personal homage to Edinbugh Fringe Festival, my beloved, my home for 6 weeks of the year. id also like to state that it's a wonderful place to be; the roofie plot is 100% fictionalised. the rest of it is a pastiche of real things that i have actually experienced. i cannot stress enough the raw animal attraction of a man named magnus who can and will flirt with anyone and everyone while getting drinks after his shows, who performs several times a week with his dick out, wearing eyeliner, heavily tattooed, who smokes and has pretty eyes. that's all i have to say about that.

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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"Come on Fi, it's the last weeks of Summer before we start uni," you'd been rather desperately imploring, as if Felix had ever known how to refuse you when you actually wanted something, "you know Monty Python started there before they were even Monty Python," you told him knowingly, which was certainly interesting, though not particularly relevant. Finally you sighed, splaying yourself out over the sofa you'd been sitting, looking up at him from as he entered the room. Now you were spread out foolishly, childishly, looking up at him with imploring eyes, "Fi we've spent a month lazing around the house and I know your parents have no other events planned before we go back, except for the party on the second last night; we'll be back before then, I promise! I want to spend time watching strange show, meeting people I'd never imagine, and drinking cocktails named after famous poets from rustic bars!"

It had been your suggestion to go to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival for a few days, and despite the exhaustingly long train ride and the hotel prices that would probably cripple anyone less well off than you - Felix had agreed. Of course he'd agreed; you sounded so hopeful.

Which is how you'd found yourself in an underground club on a Friday night, dancefloor packed with more bodies than sense, and a twenty minute line for drinks. Tonight he'd been feeling especially bold, forgoing a jacket altogether, spending time in the mirror with you before heading out to see the show you'd chosen for the evening - a compelling one-man show about being gay in Australia, in a less compelling, cramped venue. So now here he was, in one of his more fetching dark, silk, button-down t-shirts, eyeliner on his waterline, mascara even though he claimed to not need it, a touch of glitter by his temples, and his favourite brown lipstick that he'd agonised over.

Not long after you'd come out, you'd tried wearing eyeliner with the male, private school uniform - I can- I should be allowed to do whatever I want, right? - and the minute after Felix had gotten out of suspension for smacking a kid who called you a slur, he went out and bought his own eyeliner. His collection had only grown from there. It really was a shame that people seemed to think it was reserved for femininity. Well, as it turned out, people who weren't part of things like Fringe Festivals.

Felix fit right in tonight.

It's a little thrilling; these people, in neon underwear and wigs and makeup that would forever outshine his own efforts, they look at him differently. Drugs passed around him - oh darling, would you like some? But once he'd ask what they were and the kind soul goes to check, they're pulled away by some other shiny thing to focus on. Always too close, tits out with nipple pasties being sweated off, he's sure he saw someone's dick out on the dance floor, the most beautiful, feminine, sculpted faces on the hairiest male bodies sporting only a gold speedo. Confusing and foreign and everyone smiling at him.

Felix wasn't quite sure where you'd gotten too, especially not since he'd found himself caught in the blue-eyed gaze of a stocky punk with a face tattoo and carefully loose hair pulled back into a low bun. Nose piercings and ears with stretched holes that Felix could see all the way through, black silicone bordering the void almost like it was intended to match the black makeup around his eyes, though it looks worn, half sweated through. Still, Felix can't help but be enchanted by the way it made his blue eyes peak so brightly through. Felix didn't think he had much of a type when it came to guys, but he'd always found something very charming about dark hair and blue, mischievous eyes.

"Magnus," he'd introduced himself as with much confidence and yelling over the music, and when Felix introduced himself, asked if he was here for the festival, Magnus smiles wider. Felix thinks very distinctly of biting. "Actually here blowing off steam after a show," a performer then, "part of an avant guarde acrobatics troupe," a very flexible performer.

"How... long have you been doing that?"

"About three years now," Magnus squints into the distance as he tried to recall, "since I was nineteen."

"Oh," Felix brightens up, adding without thinking, "I'm nineteen." And immediately hangs his head with embarrassment. Thankfully, instead of calling him a kid - despite only being twenty-two; everyone in their twenties seemed to like calling him a baby, even if they'd turned twenty yesterday - and laughs.

"Oh thank god," he claps Felix on the shoulder, "because I was definitely going to ask."

"It's a pub," Felix points out, as if no-one underage has ever snuck into a pub ever. Magnus gives him a sidelong smile.

"With no security in sight, mate," he snorted. Felix had noticed that drugs were being passed around like candy, but he hadn't really considered it beyond that. Magnus, however, points to a couple that have been grinding on each other on a bar stool several feet away, "he's been fucking her like that for the past fifteen minutes." Felix's brows shot up.

"Really?!" He gasped; Magnus grinned like the Cheshire cat, mentioning in a far too offhand way that they were also friends of his, "should we move?"

"It's the furthest you're going to be from some kind of sex act unless you want to go outside," he gave a loud, pleased sigh at the environment, seeming entirely at home. Felix is struck with the immediate and vivid image of Magnus in his beautiful leather jacket pressing him up against this very wall, hand slipping beneath the waistband of Felix's pants; the freedom of everyone seeing and nobody caring and -

"What's avant guarde about it-" Felix clears his throat awkwardly, "the acrobatics, I mean, if I may ask?" Felix tries to remain polite while he knows he's blushing all over. All he hopes is that this man beside him that he's just met can't tell how loudly he's thinking holy shit have I met someone who could throw me around the room with ease? Is that something I want? He's never really thought about it before -

"You ever seen three people stand on each other's shoulders all at once in the full monty?" As if that's a real question Felix is supposed to have a real answer to, but Magnus stood just a little taller, just a little prouder, "I'm the lad at the bottom, holding us all secure, cock out for the world to see." What a fucking mental image.

Magnus also informs Felix that the tattoo on his face, the delicate dagger, has its match somewhere else on his body. It's with a staggering amount of confidence that immediately flusters Felix that Magnus tells him he can either buy a ticket to the show, or buy him a drink if he'd like to see it. He's pretty sure he's never been so directly and effectively hit on before in his entire life. Yes, counting the trips you, he, Farleigh, and Venetia took to France that Summer in high school.

Standing in line, thinking about beautiful, punk, acrobat Magnus and what Felix can only assume is his tattooed cock, it takes him a long while to realise that he's nearing the bar and has been staring at some guy's drinks for a full minute. Something colourful and fizzing, something with vodka he's pretty sure. It takes another moment to register something falling into one of the drinks from between the man's fingers as he goes to take them away -

"Hey!" It could have been an accident, it could have been nothing, but Felix wouldn't be able to forgive himself if it wasn't, "dude, hey!" He tries to snatch at the guy's denim jacket, but he slips into the crowd. Trying to jam himself up to the bar, despite everyone else's annoyance, he tries to tell the bartender, but the man's already disappeared too far.

Vaguely distressed, but mostly dejected, he steps back to his place, and waiting another few long moments for his turn at the bar. Even as his gaze roams the crowd for the potential bastard, he can't seem to see him. But he looses track of his thoughts on the matter when he gets back to Magnus, leaning against the wall with half a cigarette tucked behind his ear, and those gorgeous blue eyes drinking in Felix as he approaches.

"Was almost worried I'd lost you there," he slings an arm around Felix's waist, drawing him in close, accepting the drink with a grin, and all Felix can think about is how warm he is, how he smells sweet and like rich herbs and smoke. He asks what Felix does, and Felix tries his very best not to sound as young as he suddenly feels -

"Remains to be seen," he leans into speak into Magnus's ear, musting the confidence he knows he usually has in spades, wrapping his own arm around Magnus's shoulders, "about to start at Oxford in a few days -"

"Oxford!" Felix isn't sure if Magnus is teasing him or not. He's also not sure that he minds, he kind of wants the man to keep looking at him- keep smiling at him like that.

He's so enraptured by the company he's found for himself that it almost startles him when you come stumbling out of the crowd, off of the dance floor, beaming and sweating, holding a half-finished drink.

"Fi, there you are- oh my, hi, hello!" You're already giving Magnus a million watt smile, clearly quite drunk. Felix catches you with his free hand, having finished his own drink not too long ago.

"Hello, sweetheart," Magnus greets you warmly, but with an unmistakable hint of reservation, gaze momentarily flicking between yourself and Felix, trying to reassess the situation in the blink of an eye. You don't seem to notice that, however, simply standing a little taller, subtly preening at the pet name.

"Y/N is my best mate," Felix leans in close to Magnus to explain, voice fond in his ear, "the reason I'm here at all." And there's that smile again, all warm and amused and Magnus' eyes shining in a way that makes Felix want to let him do terrible, unspeakable things to him.

"Lucky for us both then, that you have such a darling friend."

Performers are a different fucking breed of people, Felix can't help but think to himself, even as Magnus turns - arm never leaving it's place around Felix - to properly introduce himself to you. He thinks it again watching Magnus charm you just as easily, even if he wasn't trying to outright hit on you the way he had been with Felix.

"I was just- I was just-" you stumble over your words, taking another sip of your drink - something colourful and fizzing, vodka something, you'd said with an offhand frown, a lovely guy I've been dancing with bought it for me - while you take Magnus' offered free hand to steady yourself, "I was thinking of heading back to the hotel pretty shortly, I'm a bit -" you make a vague hand gesture. Before you can even finish the sentiment, however, the next song begins and you light up. Finishing your drink, you grab Felix's free hand with your own, tugging them both towards the dance floor, begging them for one dance.

"How could I say no to a face like that?" Magnus teases, letting himself be dragged onto the dancefloor, Felix adding with a fond smile.

"Trust me, I wouldn't know."

Glad for the company, you gleefully let loose amongst the crush of bodies, and there's something both endearing, and endlessly attractive, about how happy Magnus seems to match your energy. The three of you jumping around to The Sex Pistols, Magnus shouting along with all of the lyrics and seemingly impressed that you and Felix at the very least seem to know some of them.

After the song, however, you seem to slip back into the crowd on the dancefloor, as if once more transfixed by the lights and movement and heat of the night. Magnus, however, leans in and asks if Felix smokes.

Outside it's far easier to breathe. It's cooler too. Still, Magnus pulls off his leather jacket, ties it around his hips, leaving him in a tight, white t-shirt. Felix has known in a roundabout way that he wasn't straight for quite some time, but damn did reminders like this not feel like being hit by a truck. Covered in tattoos and with the kind of arms and shoulders the Greeks could model statues of gods from, Felix knows he's staring but quite literally does not know how to stop.

Except then Magnus is pulling out an actual, metal cigarette deck, offering it to Felix for him to take one, and Felix is pretty sure this is the coolest person he's ever met in his life.

"I love these," Magnus takes Felix's hand in his free one, clicking the cigarette deck closed and sliding it smoothly back into his pocket, "these are cute," he's looking at the silly, little collection of stars tattooed on his hand. They look like nothing compared to the ink all over Magnus, but he seems genuine in his interest.

"Surprise gift for my sister," Felix hears himself say, cigarette between his lips as he fumbles in his pockets for a lighter.

"For your sister?"

"Well it was a surprise to me too," Felix chuckles at the memory, "Y/N and I organised for me and Venetia to get matching tattoos of her choice for her birthday."

"You... didn't know?" Magnus snorts, dropping Felix's hand to take the half-cigarette out from behind his ear, holding it out for Felix to light.

"Well I'm not opposed, I've got a couple of tattoos - nothing like yours," he grins, and Magnus's gaze meets his, flashing with that same amusement and attraction as in the club that had so captivated Felix in the first place, "but I'm kind of surprised that that's what Y/N gifted her?"

"Did your sister not like it?"

"No, that's the thing, I've actually never seen Ven react like that to a gift before," Felix muses; smiling at the memory, "of course she was a menace about it at first; I was worried she'd been given too much power," he snorted, tipping his head to look at Magnus, only to see those blue eyes gazing back, as if hanging on Felix's every word, "do you know how close I came to having a tramp stamp?"

"As if you wouldn't look fantastic with a tramp stamp," Magnus snorted.

However before the story can even be finished, the door to the club opens and both turn at the sound of your voice.

"No, I need some water first -" you sound very wrong. The person beside you, a man who looks vaguely familiar, though Felix is sure it's not his face, is setting almost too brisk of a pace.

"Come on, there's water back at my place, remember?"

"I need to go back to the hotel," you tried to insist, "and water- 'm gonna throw up in the taxi."

"You'll be fine, I promise, I've got you." The man's hailing at taxi, while you're swaying on your feet, looking even more out of it than you had when they'd last seen you.

Felix is moving on instinct, without hesitation, without even thinking.

"The fuck are you doing?" His voice raises, and the man turns right as a taxi is pulling up, looking at Felix with blatant irritation, not appearing to be intimidated in the slightest.

"Back off man, my friend isn't feeling well-" the bastard lies through his teeth, even as you of course recognise Felix, and take his arm, mumbling that you felt sick, "see?" He actually tries to pry you away from Felix, "I'm taking care of them, no need to worry -" but Felix puts his hand on yours, secure. Just as well, since you start to list and lean and lose your balance.

"Fi," you mutter weakly, pitifully, "help."

And that's when Felix realises what he recognises about the man; the jacket that slipped through his fingers at the bar. The man he'd seen dose your drink, as it turned out.

Felix has never seen red in his life the way he has in this moment.

Fury simmers white-hot just beneath his skin, though he keeps himself calm and collected as he gently walks you over to the wall of the club, easing you into a sitting position. All the while the bastard that was with you is berating him, saying you just needed to get somewhere to lie down. Magnus, however, seems to understand what's happening, and sits himself down beside you at the wall, quietly asking one of the many onlooker to go inside and grab some water for you.

"Fine, sit 'em on the filthy fucking pavement in the middle of the city instead of letting them lie down in a bed to sleep it off; you feel good? You feel like a hero for not letting me take my friend home -?"

There is an audible crack when Felix's fist makes impact with the bastard's nose. He knows once his adrenaline wears off it's going to hurt like a motherfucker, but it's worth it. More blood splatters across them both than Felix was anticipating from his wonky uppercut, but he doesn't care. The man half recovers, unsteady, but he gets a hit on Felix's cheeks with a fist full of rings, but he seems almost disorientated. Felix goes for the throat this time, satisfaction being the sound of the man choking on his gurgle of pain.

Felix isn't quite sure what it was that sent the bastard crashing to the ground, but he does know that he's tearing through that man's coat pockets like a feral beast before he finds the bottle of pills like the one he saw fall into your drink.

It's like the entire world stops for this one second.

His knuckles ache, covered in blood that isn't his own, clutching the same roofies that were now coursing through your blood, making you weak and vulnerable and prey to bastards like this. His head spins, fury spitting in his veins, blood singing to tear this man apart. There were on lookers, a gasping crowd, but for some reason no bouncer in sight, no-one stopping this.

And you, sitting against the wall of the pub, tucked up against Magnus who had a protective arm around you and was looking at the man beneath you with something cold in his eyes. His other hand was balancing a glass of water on his leg next to you, for you, but you didn't move, just looked at your hands, helpless. Magnus's cold gaze slides to meet Felix's, and there's something approving in his eyes. He gives the faintest nod.

Felix kind of blacks out after that.

The next thing he remembers is being shoved into a taxi rather frantically, hearing Magnus shout - well get him on his side so he doesn't choke on his blood before the ambulance arrives. You're already in, leaning against the window seat, gazing vacantly out of it. Felix gently touches your shoulder once the door shuts behind him- fuck that seems like a lot of blood? When did that happen? You make a vague hum of acknowledgement, so Felix shuffles over to the middle seat and coaxes you to rest against him.

"Fi?"

"Of course," he cradles you against him.

"Fi," your voice is weak, he can hear you beginning to sniffle. Your words come out awkwardly, slurred terribly, "feels wrong, c'nt.. m've."

"I know, I'm sorry," Felix feels the tears in his own eyes, "you'll be okay, I'm here, you'll be okay." He can't believe he let this happen. The front door opens, and Magnus's voice greets the driver.

"Sorry about the state of them in the back -"

"'s Friday, laddie," the terribly aged, terribly Scottish taxi driver says blithely, "where shall I be takin' yas?"

Magnus looks over the back to you both, expression concerned, but genuine, and asks for the address of your hotel. Felix takes a moment to compose himself, but finally gives it, and the drive commences in silence.

It seems only natural for Magnus to also get out once you've all arrived, easily sliding into step with Felix as they both wrapped one of your arms around their shoulders and helped get you back through the hotel and up to your room.

"Thank you, Magnus," Felix says softly as he fishes the key from his pocket, "I'm so sorry about how the night turned out." Magnus actually laughed at that, and Felix opened the door.

"Felix, if the context weren't so dramatically, disgustingly awful, this would be the most fun night I've had all Fringe." And you all shuffle inside, Felix guiding you all towards the bedroom to lay you down, "nice room by the way," Magnus looks around as he passes through, "who's cock did you have to suck to afford it in the middle of the Fringe?"

"I..." Felix hesitates, "don't know if that's a first meeting kind of question."

"Well played, Oxford boy," Magnus says, but there's no malice behind the nickname, "I have my theories, though." Part of Felix is glad Magnus is there, to help lighten the load, lighten the mood, even a little.

They lay you gently on the bed, and Felix is just glad that you seemed to finally have fully passed out. He can't begin to imagine the horrors that were going on inside your head. Then it's just the two of them. And the built in wardrobe across the room with it's floor to ceiling mirror.

And all that blood on Felix.

"I look the fucking American Psycho," it's fucking horrific! What did he do? Magnus, sitting on the end of the bed with one knee crossed over the other gives an amused smile.

"You actually kind of do."

"It's not good!" Felix approaches the mirror like he's in a damn horror movie, scrubbing at his cheeks with little success, but with a surprising amount of sharp pain, "the fuck did I do? Is this all his?" Magnus, in the mirror, is looking at him curiously, "Magnus, seriously, the fuck did I do?"

"You were fucking beautiful, Felix," Magnus says, sounding almost awed. Felix stopped; there was nothing flirty, nothing about it that wasn't genuine. Wait holy shit, Felix realises, are these fucking butterflies in his chest? Now of all times?

Then, in the next moment, Magnus blinks, clearing his throat loudly, like he hadn't meant to say that. For the first time all night he looks genuinely flustered, dropping his gaze.

"You hospitalised a fucking rapist, is what you did," he said matter-of-factly with a nod - he'd nodded before, it's the last thing Felix really remembers - "proved your point to everyone there finding those fucking pills; that was a good move. I mean, I had to explain what the fuck was happening to our little audience while I was dragging you off him - didn't think you wanted to kill him."

"Thanks," Felix says weakly. Then, softly, looking down at his shaking hands, "should I go to the police?"

"For doing a public service?" Magnus snorts, shaking his head, "no, there's at least a dozen girls who will attest to him acting threatening, and to Y/N's behaviour - who was thankfully taken away by an actual kind friend - and that he admitted in a fit of rage to spiking the drinks. He'll be the one in jail if anything." It's so... easy. So nonchalant.

When Felix asks, confusion, disbelief, innocence in his voice, Magnus just smiles like the easiest thing in the world, and says he's an actor, it's his job.

"You don't have to be doing all of this," Felix covers the room in a few short steps, knowing he'll never have the words to thank this stranger for all he's done tonight.

"Are you kidding me? I'm going to be telling this story for the rest of my life," Magnus grins brightly, and his eyes shine just like that had hours ago, before everything went to hell. He leans in conspiratorially, "you broke his fucking ribs."

"I think I broke more than his ribs," Felix says with a tentatively proud smile. Magnus nodded in absolute agreement. Then, after a moment.

"Have a shower, Felix," he said, "I'm going to go downstairs to the petrol station, see what they have there, and be back in a bit; is it okay with you if I crash on the sofa -?"

"You don't have to do all this, seriously, it's late, please go home," Felix implores, taking Magnus's face in his hands. Magnus, however, looks at him like he's a fool.

"I'm going to make sure you're both okay," he pets Felix's hand on his cheek, smiling so sincerely, "and besides, if I'm down getting stuff, that way you can have a shower and know I'm not using that time to be a creep towards Y/N while you're busy."

After a moment of deliberation, Felix pulls Magnus in to press several kisses to his forehead, calling him an absolute Godsend, while Magnus laughs to hide how flustered it makes him.

The shower is where the adrenaline really starts to wear off and the ache of the fight sets into his muscles and bones. The mirror mists over and the droplets still cling where he wipes his hand over. His knuckles are bruised, as is his face, scratches and split lip and gashes where the rings had punctures his cheek. The makeup and eyeliner that he didn't think to properly remove before his shower probably makes it look a little worse than it is.

There's scratches on his throat, his collar, shallower on his chest where the bastard had tried to get him through his shirt while he was trapped beneath Felix on the ground. Scratches up his arms as the man fought a losing battle.

He takes one of the makeup wipes from the pack and cleans up his face as best he can as the first step. It helps, but not by a lot. Back in the bedroom, once he's dry, he searches his suitcase for pyjamas, getting himself dressed.

In there, there is a long few moments where he watches you sleep, watches the steady rise and fall of your breathing and sees the dried tear tracks on your cheeks.

"Fi, help."

God, he's tearing up at the memory. He should have stopped that cunt at the bar when he'd had the chance, when he first saw it happen. Never in his life has he heard you sound genuinely weak until tonight; his hands shake.

Before he gets you cleaned up, however, he feels like he needs to check... Magnus really didn't have to come back. Yeah, sure, he said he would, but if he got tired, if he needed to call it a night, Felix would not blame him in the slightest. He really was surprisingly lovely, and part of Felix would probably regret not getting his number, but it was understandable -

Magnus is sitting cross-legged in the hall, across from his door, eating a slice of white bread from a grocery bag by his side. In his other hand, he's texting.

"Give us a second, just letting the troupe know I'm fine."

Felix blinks at him. Felix waits. Magnus's thumb works the digits of the Nokia he's focusing on, before he must hit send, satisfied. Then, tucking the phone back into one of the inner pockets of his jacket, he looks up, eyes still that same, bright blue. He looks genuinely pleased to see Felix. Felix, for his part, is genuinely pleased to see him too. Surprised as well, if he was being honest, but pleased.

"You look much better," Magnus comments, and pushes himself to his feet. Bag looped in his arm, Felix sees it's a few basic supplies, bread, maybe some spread, something he can't identify, and something bright red. He offers to pay; Magnus tries to shrug it off, but Felix finally gives a self deprecating smile, gesturing around to the rather luxury hotel room they were in. Magnus gives himself a moment to take it all in again, and finally sighs, smiles, gives in.

He does, however, insist on making them both food.

Grilled cheese; all he could find on short notice since it was getting to the early hours of the morning. Felix watches for a few long moments, the way Magnus moves around the kitchenette with practiced ease, like a man used to these spaces, to life on the road. Felix finds he enjoys just watching Magnus; perhaps this is how people have often felt about him. Magnus doesn't watch him, he feels rather free.

"Do you want to take off your makeup," Felix pipes up just as Magnus reaches for the stove. Magnus freezes, "if you're staying, and being so kind as to make me food, the least I can offer is for you to make yourself comfortable."

"Should have suspected you'd be a good host," Magnus grins over his shoulder, and gently puts the pan down, leaving the stove off for the time being. So Felix directs him to the bathroom and tells him to take all the time he needs, and himself heads to the bedroom. Fishing his wallet from the jeans he'd discarded for the night, he pulls out two fifty pound notes. It's far more than the contents of the grocery bag, but Felix definitely doesn't care. It's so little for how kind he's been.

Opening the bedroom door, however, and he almost runs into Magnus, startling the both of them. Even with the remnants of his makeup still clinging around his eyes, the faintest traces of stubborn eyeliner and mascara, he looks fresh-faced and beautiful. Startled, both by the abruptness, and the fact that he might be even more taken with this man without his makeup on, all Felix can do is hold out the money. Magnus seems to thaw first, chuckles, shakes his head, and calls Felix incredibly generous. Unsurprisingly, Felix insists that it's not generous, it's simply fair compensation for his kindness.

After a moment, Magnus peers around Felix, asking how you were. Felix finally relaxes, assures him that for now you're fine. Magnus's expression is understanding, but still very knowing, as his gaze flicks between Felix and you.

"You take care of them, I'll take care of food," he insists gently. Before Felix can even ask how Magnus knew what that he still wanted to make sure you were comfortable, Magnus pats his chest fondly, "you beat a man half to death for them, I assume you want them to sleep in comfort."

Yeah. Fair. Good assessment of the night, and of Felix.

So Felix smiles, thanks him, and trusts him in the kitchen.

Felix treats you with such reverence in these moments, wiping off your makeup with such care, changing you into your pyjamas while he made sure there were no bruises, no scratches, no sign of this bastard anywhere on you. But no, thankfully not. He could have killed that bastard. Sounds like he almost did.

You frown in your sleep. Felix's heart hurts. But there's nothing more to be done for now.

Magnus is humming softly in the kitchen, a gentle sound amid the comforting sizzle of butter in a pan. Felix watches from the doorway for a long moment, the gentle, neutral expression, the focus on the food, the way he's retied his hair to catch all the hair that had so casually been hanging around his face back at the bar. There's something else different about him, however, and it's not the lack of leather jacket or makeup, it's something Felix can't put his finger on for a good few moments.

"Did you get shorter?"

Magnus stops humming. His gaze slides to Felix out of the corner of his eyes, expression unreadable. Then his gaze drops to the ground, and Felix follows; Magnus is wearing Christmas socks on the cold tiles. After a beat, Felix puts two and two together, and Magnus gives a vaguely sheepish laugh the minute he stalks around the kitchen island to the door. There's a pair of gigantic, black boots sitting primly by the door.

The absurdity of this, on top of everything else, finally has Felix laughing, collapsing against the kitchen island, face in his hands, as Magnus cackles quietly by the stove.

"What even is this night?" Felix groans through his fingers.

"One to remember," Magnus responds sagely as he served the first of the grilled cheeses onto a waiting plate, "the good parts, at least, and the good in the bad," immediately he puts another blob of butter in the pan, "and when you look back, you won't see the rage or the fear," he puts the second set of bread and cheese in the pan before picking up the plate with the first, finished dish, "you'll simply recall the love that inspired it all."

"You're so wise," Felix sighs fingers curling down so he could rest his chin on his fists, glad for the man he'd met by chance just a few hours before, "how'd you get so wise doing backflips in your birthday suit, Magnus?" He can feel himself growing tired, finally, as a yawn hits him, "is that something I should try?" Magnus laughs once again, putting the plate of food in front of Felix. He settles across from him, mirroring with his chin on his hand over the kitchen island.

"I take chances on people who intrigue me."

Somehow this terrible night has come full circle; you're comfortable and safe, there's nothing to worry about, and Felix desperately wants to kiss this damn acrobat who's in his hotel room making him grilled cheese at three in the morning.

"Magnus?"

"Yes, Felix," he murmurs back, smiling softly.

"Is that why you're still here, being so... lovely?"

But there's something in Magnus's eyes that dims at the question, just a little. Taking a deep, hesitant breath, his smile turns a touch awkward as he pushes off of the counter to check on the stove. Felix follows him with his eyes, confused, unsure of what he could have said that was wrong.

"I suppose that could be the short answer," Magnus offers, idly. Felix is quiet, crosses his arms on the bench and sinks down to rest his head there, almost childishly, waiting, "don't know if this is a first-meeting discussion either." Magnus finally comes to, though his tone is thankfully lighter.

Silence. Slowly, Felix sits himself back up and starts on the grilled cheese in front of him, quietly thanking Magnus who once again assures him it's no trouble. They sit and eat in silence together; it's not awkward, but Felix is growing more tired with each moment that passes.

"I'm five-seven," Magnus offers without prompting, halfway through the impromptu meal. Felix snorts so hard he starts almost choking on a lump of cheese. Magnus claps him on the back, snickering to himself. Felix, while trying to blink away the way his eyes are watering, peers over to the boots by the door once more, "six inch platforms."

"Fucking hell, how do you walk around in them?" Felix says between thankfully clearing coughs, "you don't perform in them, do you?"

"Fuck no," Magnus grins, "it's not that hard -"

"They'd make me near about seven foot!" Felix crows.

"Maybe next time you can try them on."

Next time.

Even as Magnus spends the next half hour tending to Felix's wounds, advising on how to take care of his muscles, Felix can't stop grinning to himself. Then Magnus says it again, wearing a grin of his own;

"I'm not kidding, I'm going to make sure you're taking care of yourself next time I see you."

"You promise?" Felix wears a wide, goofy grin, clearly giddy at the prospect, enough so that Magnus can't help but finally pull him in for a kiss.

"Promise, Felix."

#felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #felix catton x reader x oliver quick #head heart hand fic #manic writer

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