#i just found a new author to obsess over on here

[starlitlakes]

Down bad horrible and horrendous for a one Eddie Munson. Please marry me

[highvern]

Aphrodite

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: smut, friends to lovers, established relationship, fluff at the beginning

Warnings: bathroom sex, kissing, groping, fingering, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics but they’re both actually switches (Mingyu is a service top), cumshot, Mingyu is still obsessed with titties, hair pulling, choking (hand around throat but no breath play), doggy style, unprotected sex (not endorsed by author), praise kink and strength kink go burrrrrr, there's a little bit of fluff/angst at the beginning (care/comfort) because she had a hard day at work, porn with feelings

Length: ~3k

Note: Drunk Goggles couple's bathroom scene mentioned in Discovery! the first third is so cute i actually had to close my laptop and step away while editing it so please enjoy my brain rot lol. its implied reader is on birth control and Mingyu knows it but still wrap it before you tap it guys. This was drafted as "Champagne Confetti" but i couldn't post it with that title with a straight face

ALSO stream Mamamoo Wheein's new album In the Mood! Aphrodite was a huge inspiration for the sweeter parts of this fic

read more here

The knob of your bathroom cabinet is digging into Mingyu’s shoulder uncomfortably and his ass freezing on the hard tile, but neither register in his mind much. His sole focus is on listening to you vent about how shitty work was as you wash up behind the flimsy curtain only a few feet away.

“Oh and then she had the audacity to say I should have been more prepared for the meeting! As if she didn’t send me the info an hour before!” You babble, head popping out to look at him. 

Mingyu tries and fails to stifle the laughter bubbling at the sight of your shampoo Mohawk.

“What a bitch!”

“Right?!” You move back into the spray and out of sight.

“She’s just mad because you’re better at her job than she is.”

“I wouldn’t be if she actually did her job.” You sigh.

“I’m sorry baby.”

“‘s not your fault Gyu.”

“Do you want me to beat her up?”

“Yeah, because sending my gigantic ass boy toy after her is gonna get her off my back.” You call, closing your eyes as foam rinses from your hair down your skin.

“The correct term is boyfriend.”

“The correct term is baby daddy.”

“You’re fucking nasty.”

“You love me.”

God, I do.

But it’s too early to say those words with the level of earnestness he feels so Mingyu bites his tongue.

Steam and lavender soap tickle his senses as you wash away the evidence of your previous distress. Your manager is number one on Mingyu’s incredibly short shit list.

Mingyu had barely waltzed through the door of your apartment after work, excited to spend the evening cuddled on the couch with a movie like you do every Thursday. He nearly shit himself when he found you sitting at the kitchen counter, tears staining your face and eyes rimmed red. You dove into his chest and cried for an over hour, unable to speak as wretched sobs escaped your throat. He’s never felt so helpless as he sat there, stroking your back as he held you, whispering gentle affirmations into your hair. It was his idea for you to hop in the shower once you calmed down enough to assure him you weren’t injured and “no, no one died.” 

The entire time, Mingyu sat close by listening intently, chiming in occasionally with agreements. He hadn’t follow you into the stall, void of the desire to worsen your mood. Shared showers were not a favorite in this household. Either it ended after two minutes to move to the bed or one of you hopped out, annoyed that the other was hogging the hot water and leaving them in the cold. Mingyu wanted you to relax but the only way he could relax was to make sure you’re actually okay. Which is why he is planted on the ground near the door like a guard dog, keeping an eye on you in case the tears returned; numb butt and sore shoulder be damned.

The squeak of the faucet signals the end of your bathing, echoed by the ruffle of the curtain as you push it aside to exit the tub. He keeps his eyes trained on your face, a smile spreading at the glow radiating from the apples of your cheeks void of the earlier splotchy dullness. You already look a million times better than when he entered your home.

Mingyu is trying very hard to be a supportive boyfriend while you continue to rant; but it’s challenging when the actual woman of his dreams is standing only feet away, completely nude and soaking wet, skin flushed from scrubbing and glistening in the warm glow of the light above the mirror. It takes all his might to ignore the swell of your breast and gentle the sway of your hips, or the curve of your thighs as you stretch for your towel on the rack above the toilet. The movement sends droplets falling in staccato from your hair plastered against your head onto your shoulder before trailing down your front, tracing dizzying patterns across your skin. His very own Aphrodite, exiting the sea to fill his heart.

“I hope she gets fired soon. I know I didn’t look like an idiot in that meeting, it was all her.” 

“No one thinks you’re an idiot.” He looks down at his hands playing with the cuff of his sweatshirt to distract himself from how you start twisting to towel off, body bending and stretching suggestively as you concentrate.

“She definitely does but who cares.”

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah, actually.” You smile, towel wrapped around you snugly as you step away from the tub and towards him. “But I could still really use a hug.”

“I can do that.” 

Mingyu jumps up from his place on the floor, beaming at the soft look on your face as he tangles you in his arms. He plants peck after peck across the crown of your wet hair, nose filling with the scent of your shampoo as he squeezes you against him tightly. The remaining moisture on your body is wicked away by the soft fabric of his sweater, covering him in wet spots along his front and down his arms.

“You’re the best.” You sign into his chest as he leaves a kiss on your hairline.

To distract himself from what he really wants to say, Mingyu blows a wet raspberry against your forehead.

“Nope! Never mind!” You squeal, trying in vain to break out of his strong grip. “Get away from me!”

“But baby you just said I was the best!” He counters, arms tighten to prevent you from wiggling lose.

“No, you’re gross and I hate you!”

“GASP.”

You can only roll your eyes at your boyfriend's dramatics.

“You hate me? I wipe your tears, clean up your snot, order us take out, and you hate me?” Voice rising in pitch, he gapes at you.

“You ordered take out?”

“Focus on me! I’m hurt. Devastated!”

“Oh no, what will I do?” You deadpan, but the twitch of your mouth betrays your amusement.

It’s a dangerous game given you’re still locked in his arms and his penchant for being over the top.

“I’m deeply deeply wounded missy. So there’s only one way I’ll forgive you.”

“And what’s that?”

“Kiss?” He says with puppy dog eyes and puckered lips that makes him look like a fish.

“Oh my god!” You cackle at his ridiculousness.

“Oh, there she goes again! Do you not care about me at all?”

His question is punctuated by him collapsing against you and fake crying. Laughter bubbles in your chest like champagne. Mingyu makes you feel better without even trying.

“Alright, come here you big baby. Let me give you a kiss.”

Matching smiles meet in a sweet kiss. In your relationship, one kiss frequently becomes ten or twenty so there's no shock when you keep planting pecks against his lips before moving to tickle them across his cheek, brow, and tip of his nose. Mingyu is all smiles and giggles under your lips as you move back to his mouth.

The short kisses become heated swiftly. You wipe the smile off his face easily enough, thanking the universe it takes almost nothing to get Mingyu started (not that you’re any better). You’re impressed he didn’t jump you when you stepped out of the shower in all your naked glory. Honestly, you’re a little disappointed he didn’t. But now with your towel unraveling from your tussle, pressed against his solid frame as you nip his lips, you know it’s a matter of seconds before Mingyu crowds against you and makes you feel a lot better.

Like clockwork, a simple hum in the back of your throat paired with your nails trailing down his chest sets Mingyu off. He turns with you still in his hold, lifting you up and depositing you on the cool marble of the countertop, pushing your legs apart to make room for himself. Clumsy hands push your towel away, giving him access to play with your chest. When the nail of his thumb scratches your nipple, you arch against him with a sigh. The shift breaks your lips apart and Mingyu wasted no time diving for your throat.

Apparently tonight is one of the few nights Mingyu wants to be a little more demanding with you. The hand not plucking your chest moves the tangle itself amongst the wet hair at the crown of your skull, giving a firm tug that has your spine arching, stretching your neck with a whine to give more space to bite along your throat. Teeth scratch against the cords of muscle, but his tongue soothes the abused skin immediately after; even when he’s rough, he treats you like a princess. You feel yourself clenching around nothing at the maddening combination of sensations.

“Please, Gyu”

“Please, what?” He asks, not budging an inch from where he latches to your collarbone.

“Touch me.” You whimper.

His mouth replaces the hand pinching your chest, sucking your abused nipple into his blistering mouth. The hand that was on your chest, skates down between your thighs, pushing your legs further apart, letting your foot find purchase on the handle of the cabinet next to you to spread you wide.

He starts slowly, middle finger parting your downy lips to trace from your entrance to your mound. The calloused pad of his finger nothing more than a gossamer touch against your heat, maddening as it teases you. Curling your hips upwards, you give him more space to circle your entrance before he dips his middle and ring finger inside, thumb stretching to caress your swollen clit.

“So wet already.”

“If you had a boyfriend that treats you how you treat me, then you’d understand why.” You pant into his hair.

“Think I understand plenty.” He replies, moving your hand to caress his dick where it sits tented in his shorts.

The bathroom is filled with shameless whines and puffs of breath as you work each other up. You’ve successfully gotten a hand into his underwear, fisting the head of his cock in a tight rhythm just how he likes. The other busies itself scratching down his back as he preps you for what's to come by twisting two fingers inside you, heel of his hand grinding against your clit with every thrust.

“Need you inside.” You whisper into his mouth.

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you?”

“Mhmm,” your tone is verging on pathetic but his reaction washes away any embarrassment.

“Then be a good girl and turn around.”

Mingyu steps back, giving you space to quickly jump off the counter to turn your back to him. He busies himself with removing his sweater while you settle on your elbows, ass pushed out in front of him teasingly. It gives him pause, easily distracted by the arch of your spine and the subtle jiggle of flesh as you rock from one foot to another. You watch in the mirror as he blinks lazily, using one hand to push down his pants while the other cups a cheek, squeezing it in his palm. When his shorts are finally pooled around his ankles, he steps closer to let his length rest on your ass.

You can feel his leaking tip brush your tailbone, leaving a faint trace of dampness across your skin as you roll on to the balls of your feet to grind back on him. The rigid velvet of his shaft has arousal dripping down your thighs crudely.

You watch his face with rapt attention in the mirror. He’s hypnotized by how his cock looks pressed snug against your rear, resting hot and heavy in the valley of your cheeks. His throat bobs with a harsh swallow; hands wrapping around your sides, lazily tracing the curve between the bottom of your ribs to your hip bones. Mingyu’s hips move of their own volition, rutting across your ass as his cock continues to drool on your skin.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

“Come on baby, I had a hard day. Need you to make me feel better.”

Mingyu's eyes find yours in the mirror. You know the pout on your lips will get you everything you want. Mingyu knows it too.

“Condom,” he prompts. 

There’s a stash in the drawer to your left but Mingyu is fully aware he lacks the will power to reach over and grab one when his hands are filled with something so much more enticing right now.

As you shake your head with a mischievous quirk of lips, he’s pretty sure you’re playing a cruel joke on hum.

“Shit,” He curses. “Are you serious?”

“Fuck me, Gyu.”

Palming his cock, Mingyu recites a silent prayer that he doesn’t blow his load immediately. This is the first time he gets to fuck you raw and goddamit if it’s short lived. Tracing his tip through the mess between your legs, he collects your arousal to lube him up. He can feel how soaking you are at the idea of him fucking you without the barrier of latex, inner thighs smeared with your essence. Hopefully you’ll come as quickly as he probably will.

“You’re so dirty, letting me stuff you with my cock like this. Aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” you gasp when he nudges your clit. “Your dirty girl.”

“That’s right, my dirty girl.” He growls as he pushes inside you.

The first inch has you both closing your eyes, vision filled with stars. As nice as he feels bare inside you, it’s the mental is getting you off more than the physical. Every time Mingyu stretches you out on his cock is a treat, but the knowledge that the flared head of his cock pressing deep inside is leaving traces of his seed along your walls has you breathless. You’ve never let anyone else fuck you like this and a part shielded in your chest hopes he’s that last to.

Mingyu is more or less losing his shit behind you. The scorching wet clamp of your silky inner muscles that he’s only felt on his tongue or fingers is better than he could ever imagine. Your pussy gushing to coat his cock as he splits you open has him on the verge of tears. When he’s settled in, your ass pressed firmly to his pelvis, you wiggle against him.

Mingyu responds by pressing forward, pinning your hips to the counter harshly to prevent you from moving again. You’re clenching around him so hard, it takes all of his self control not to cum. 

“Fuck, you feel so good.” You mewl.

You’re really not helping.

“Calm down.” He grits out, both to himself and you.

“Need it.”

“Oh you need it?” He chides, delivering a bruising thrust.

You reward him with a sharp whine.

“Calm down baby, I'll give it to you. Always do, don't I?”

One hand circles the base of your throat, not squeezing; just resting the curve against his palm as his thumb trails along the side of your neck. It stops your breath anyway. But then Mingyu leans down to press his chest with your back, face coming into view right over your shoulder to whisper in your ear while looking you in the eye through the mirror.

“But you gotta be a good girl and spread it for me.”

You heave at his words, afraid you might pass out. Hands scramble to grab your own ass cheeks, pulling the flesh apart so he has a clear view of your pussy sucking him in as he starts curling his hips inside you.

The way he’s fucking you is vulgar. Hand wrapped around your throat as the other moves back into your hair, your own brushing the tops of his thighs as he cants against your ass, balls slapping against your pussy with each thrust. Mingyu leans back to watch himself disappear into your cunt, pulling you up into an arch. The feel without a condom is melting his brain but the visual absence of latex is doing incredible damage to his psyche too.

You both are a mess of sweet whines and rough groans, bathroom echoing with the clapping of skin and wet squelch of your full pussy. Breaking his focus on the way your entrance stretches to accommodate his thick cock splitting you open, Mingyu looks in the mirror to watch the way your tits bounce in time with his hips; your mouth open in a silent scream, eyes misty with delirium as you watch him watching you.

“Feel so fucking good like this, shit.” He pants. “Hear how wet you are? Fucking love it don’t you?”

Your head falls forward pathetically, only stopped by the palm still resting around your throat. When Mingyu gives a tentative squeeze, you whimper a quiet agreement. He watches as you force a hand between your thighs, fingers rubbing your clit in tight circles to push you closer to the edge.

“Gonna come,” you whine.

“Yeah?” Mingyu asks, excitement clear as day. He tilts his hips to fuck deeper, stretching you just a little bit wider on his cock to send you home.

“Fuck!” You sob, tensing as your orgasm washes over you. 

Every muscle in your body ignites, squeezing impossibly tighter as electricity snaps through your nerves, licking your veins and exploding your field of vision in a blinding white. Like a taunt bow string being released, you curl in on your chest as you clench around your boyfriend’s cock, gushing down shaky thighs. Your free hand grips the edge of the sink, holding on for dear life as you twitch in his hold.

“Where do you want it?” Mingyu cries, two seconds behind you and using his last functioning brain cell to not piss you off by assuming he can finish inside despite wanting nothing more. “Gotta tell me where you want, Y/N.”

“On me, wanna feel you on me!” You cry, still playing with your clit as you pry open teary eyes to watch Mingyu from the mirror.

A bright red blush spreads across his chest and up his neck, glistening with beads of sweat and condensation from the steam clogging the air. His bottom lip swollen from where it's locked between clenched teeth, neck straining and biceps bulging from his harsh grip on your body. He has enough sense of reality to slip the hand around your throat into your hair, gathering the strands in a makeshift ponytail to keep it out of the way of the mess he’s about to make.

He pulls out with seconds to spare against a tsunami of pleasure that begins to surge through his body, beginning in his balls and crashing outward to swamp his nerves. It ripples across his skull, raising goosebumps in its wake as it ebbs through his blood stream. Mingyu’s abdomen flexes as he fists his cock still slick with your combined arousal over your ass; thick streaks of his seed rushing forward. You feel a hefty rope land between your shoulder blades, the sticky heat intoxicating as it trickles down your back. A few drops sputter on the dip of your spine and your hand still spreading you wide, decorating you in his own diamonds.

Mingyu can’t help the way he stares at your hole, obsessed with how you clench around nothing like you’re missing something. He wishes he was watching you squeeze around his dick, his cum dripping out of you with each pulse of muscle. Maybe someday he’ll get to.

As your orgasms subside, weariness circles on the edge of your senses. Two sets of eyes flutter shut, chests heaving and hearts beating in time. Unwinding his hand from your hair, Mingyu lets it gently rest next to your hip on the counter, preventing him from collapsing against you and into the sticky residue he’s left. He can’t feel his legs, head empty of coherent thought. Unconsciously, his thumb traces the dimple at the base of your spine, the gentle caress grounding him to his body. 

The quiet of the bathroom is only disturbed by the hum of the overhead fan. You both are spent, muscles weak and nerves fried. Occasionally a deep breath interrupts but it's peaceful as you bask in each other's presence. 

“Oh my god,” you pant, breaking his trance. 

“Hmm?”

“How did you get cum on the mirror?”

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Boys Day Out.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!

authors note - these new pictures are making me go feral, like his hair grew back so quick and ngl im absolutely loving it 🥰

word count - 2.8k

in which, manchester united are playing luton town fc in the premier league, and so what better thing to do then take your two football obsessed children to watch there favourite team hopefully win.

Friday 16th February, 2024.

Last Friday was a rare moment of tranquility in your household.

You sat nestled in your shared bed, Harry's arm draped around your waist, pulling you close. As you lost yourself in the pages of your book, you couldn't help but steal glances at him, admiring the way his eyes sparkled with every scroll on his phone.

The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm aura around the room, creating a peaceful atmosphere that enveloped you both. With each shared smile and whispered exchange, the bond between you grew stronger, weaving a tapestry of love and companionship that filled the space between you.

As the subtle silence enveloped the room, Harry gently broke it, his voice filled with excitement. "Y’know, m’love, I was thinking... How about taking the boys to the Manchester United match on Sunday? A mate has a few tickets spare. It would be a fantastic day out for them, and I reckon it'd do you good to have some time for yourself."

You paused, considering his suggestion. " H, I don't mind staying with the boys. Besides, it's a big game, and they might get restless."

Harry shook his head, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "Nonsense, they'll love it! And you deserve a break, you do so much for them already. Plus, it'll be a chance for me to bond with the boys, just the three of us."

You couldn't help but smile at his earnestness.

"I suppose it would be nice to have a bit of me-time," you admitted, though still hesitant about leaving the boys for the day.

Seeing your uncertainty, Harry took your hand in his, his gaze softening. "Trust me, m’love, it'll be a day they'll never forget. Besides, it'll give you a chance to relax and unwind, do whatever you fancy without worrying about the boys."

His words warmed your heart, and you found yourself nodding, a sense of relief washing over you.

"Okay, you've convinced me. Let's make it a boys' day out on Sunday," you agreed, a smile spreading across your face at the thought of a few hours of peace and quiet.

Sunday 18th February, 2024.

Harry navigated his Range Rover through the familiar streets, the excitement palpable in the air as they neared Kenilworth town where the football match awaited.

In the backseat, Cameron, his eight-year-old son, gazed out of the window with a mix of wonder and anticipation, his Manchester United kit proudly worn.

Cameron Harry Styles was conceived only five months into yours and Harry’s relationship, it definitely came as a shock seeing as he was only twenty-two, but he absolutely wouldn’t change it for the world.

"Dad, do you think Rashford will score today?" Cameron asked eagerly, his eyes alight with excitement.

Harry glanced at Cameron through the rearview mirror, a smile playing on his lips.

"M’reckon he's got a good chance, Cam. But y’know how football is, anything can happen," he replied, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

Meanwhile, in the other car seat Dexter Robin Styles, your youngest child who was conceived on your honeymoon.

Dexter, just turned two, slept soundly in his car seat, blissfully unaware of the excitement surrounding him. Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of his youngest son, his heart swelling with love.

"Look at him, out like a light already," he remarked to Cameron.

Cameron grinned back, his excitement bubbling over.

"We can wake him up when we get there, Daddy," he declared confidently, already planning the day ahead in his mind. "I can't wait to see the players up close!"

The journey continued for another half an hour, the excitement building with each passing mile. Cameron peppered Harry with questions about the match, his eagerness infectious as they drew closer to the stadium. Dexter stirred in his sleep occasionally, but Cameron kept a watchful eye on him, eager to share every moment of the adventure with his little brother.

Finally, they pulled up in the stadium's private car park, greeted by the bustling atmosphere of fellow fans and the distant sounds of cheers from inside. Harry turned off the engine, glancing back at his sons with a grin.

As Harry stepped out of the car, he made his way around to Dexter's car seat, his heart full of anticipation for the day ahead. Gently, he opened the door and leaned in to wake his youngest son.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," he murmured softly, giving Dexter a gentle shake. "It's time to wake up, buddy."

Dexter stirred, his eyelids fluttering as he slowly emerged from his deep slumber.

"Daddy?" he mumbled, his voice groggy from sleep. "Carry me, please?"

Harry couldn't help but smile at his son's request, knowing full well that Dexter was a total daddy's boy.

"Of course, little man," he replied, ready to scoop Dexter up into his arms. "You ready for some football?"

Dexter nodded, rubbing his eyes with tiny fists. "Yeah, football!" he exclaimed, his voice still laced with sleepiness.

Harry chuckled softly, planting a kiss on Dexter's forehead.

"That's right, buddy. But first, we need to get you out of this car seat," he said, gently manoeuvring Dexter's sleepy limbs.

Meanwhile, Cameron had already made his way out of the car and stood next to his father, his hand clasped firmly in Harry's.

"I can't wait to see the players, Daddy!" he exclaimed, his excitement palpable.

Harry chuckled, ruffling Cameron's hair affectionately.

"I know, buddy. It's going to be an amazing day," he replied, his heart swelling with love for his two sons.

The stadium wasn’t that busy, but that may be because the match didn’t kick off for another hour.

No one had managed to spot him thus far, so it was all smooth sailing.

Dexter was still in his arms, thumb in his mouth and Cameron was holding his fathers hand, his shoulder length curls tied back in a loose man bun that you had done this morning.

As they made their way through the bustling stadium, Cameron's stomach rumbled loudly, coincidently as they passed a nearby food stand.

Oh how he craved some warm food right now.

"Daddy, m’hungry!" he exclaimed, tugging on Harry's hand.

Harry chuckled. "Hungry, huh? Remember, it's not 'want', it's 'would like'," he gently corrected, trying to instill good manners in his son.

Cameron nodded eagerly, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the food stand.

"Okay, Daddy. Can I have a slice of pizza, please?" he asked politely, his stomach grumbling impatiently.

Harry smiled, proud of Cameron's manners.

"Of course, buddy. Let's see what they have," he replied, leading the way to the queue.

As they waited in line, Harry turned to Dexter, who was still cradled in his arms.

"And what about you, Dex? Would y’like anything to drink?" he asked, brushing a stray lock of hair from Dexter's forehead.

Dexter nodded enthusiastically, his eyes wide with excitement.

"Fruit shoot, please, Daddy!" he chirped, his little voice filled with anticipation.

He should have guessed.

Harry chuckled, planting a kiss on Dexter's cheek.

"Fruit shoot it is, champ," he replied, making a mental note to grab a couple of bottles for the boys.

Finally reaching the front of the queue, Harry ordered a slice of pizza for Cameron and a couple of fruit shoots for Dexter. As they walked away from the food stand, Cameron eagerly bit into his slice, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. And with Dexter happily sipping on his fruit shoot.

In the stands of the bustling stadium, Harry sat between his two boys, each in their own seat. Dexter, perched proudly in his own seat, had insisted on being a "big boy" for the match, his determination shining through as he sat upright, his legs swinging with excitement.

Though still too young to fully grasp the intricacies of the game, Dexter's eyes sparkled with wonder as he took in the sights and sounds of the stadium, his tiny hands gripping the edge of his seat in anticipation.

Cameron, on the other hand, was completely engrossed in the action on the field. With his Manchester United scarf wrapped around his neck and his eyes fixed on the players, he leaned forward eagerly, his heart racing with each pass and shot. His passion for the game was palpable, his entire being consumed by the thrill of the match unfolding before him.

As the game entered its fifth minute, Manchester United surged ahead with an early goal, igniting a chorus of cheers from the crowd.

Harry couldn't help but smile as he watched the excitement ripple through Cameron, his son's eyes shining with pure joy. And beside him, Dexter's infectious laughter filled the air, a constant reminder of the simple pleasures of being together as a family.

As the game entered its seventh minute, Manchester United's Rasmus Højlund seized an opportunity and scored a magnificent goal, sending the stadium into a frenzy of cheers and applause.

Cameron, unable to contain his excitement, leapt up from his seat, his eyes wide with jubilation as he started jumping up and down.

"Yes! Go, United!" he shouted, his voice filled with exhilaration.

Beside him, Dexter watched with wide-eyed wonder, not quite understanding what had just happened.

Sensing his confusion, Harry leaned down and whispered in Dexter's ear, "Dexter, our team just scored a goal! Isn't that exciting?"

Dexter's face lit up with understanding, and he clambered down from his seat, his tiny legs carrying him over to stand in front of Harry.

With a beaming smile, he reached out for Cameron's hand, eager to join in the celebration.

"Goal! Goal!" he exclaimed, mimicking his older brother's excited jumps.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of his two boys jumping up and down in unison, their laughter echoing through the stadium. Quickly pulling out his phone, he aimed the camera at them, capturing the precious moment for posterity.

As the final whistle blew, signaling the end of the match with Manchester United emerging victorious with a score of 2-1, Cameron was buzzing with excitement. He bounced around, his energy infectious as he reveled in his team's triumph.

Meanwhile, Dexter, nestled contentedly in Harry's arms, gazed up at his father with sleepy eyes, still basking in the excitement of the game.

Unbeknownst to the boys, Harry had a surprise in store for them. With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he decided to keep it a secret until the perfect moment. As they made their way out of the stadium, Cameron and Dexter assumed they were heading home, completely unaware of the surprise awaiting them.

A kind-hearted stadium staff member, noticing the boys' enthusiasm for the game, discreetly approached Harry and whispered about a special opportunity to visit the dressing room of Manchester United. Sensing the boys' excitement, Harry nodded gratefully, knowing that this unexpected treat would be the perfect end to an already unforgettable day.

They soon arrived at the changing rooms.

"Daddy, where are we going?" Cameron asked, his voice tinged with excitement and curiosity. Before Harry could respond, the door swung open, revealing a sight that left Cameron speechless.

His eyes widened in awe as he took in the scene before him—the dressing room of Manchester United, filled with his favorite players. For a moment, Cameron was rendered silent, his mouth hanging open in disbelief as he stood in the presence of his idols.

Meanwhile, Dexter, wide awake and brimming with enthusiasm, squirmed in Harry's arms, eager to explore. Spotting one of the players nearby, he wiggled free and dashed over without hesitation, his extroverted nature shining through as he greeted the player with a wide grin and a burst of chatter.

Harry couldn't help but laugh at Dexter's boldness, his heart swelling with pride at his son's fearlessness. As Dexter chatted animatedly with the player, Harry followed after him, a fond smile on his face as he watched his youngest son soak up the moment with unbridled joy.

Beside him, Cameron held onto Harry's trouser leg tightly, his shyness evident as he observed the scene with a mixture of awe and apprehension. Harry knelt down beside him, offering reassurance and encouragement.

"S’okay, Cam. They're just regular people, like you and me," he whispered, gently squeezing Cameron's hand in support.

Harry noticed Cameron's apprehension and knelt down beside him, offering a reassuring smile and a comforting squeeze of his hand.

"S’okay, buddy. Y’don't have to talk to anyone if you don't want to," he whispered gently, understanding his son's discomfort.

As the bustling activity in the dressing room continued, a familiar figure approached the trio.

It was Marcus Rashford, Cameron's favorite footballer.

The moment Cameron caught sight of him, his eyes widened in awe, and he instinctively tightened his grip on Harry's hand.

Harry smiled warmly as Marcus crouched down to Cameron's level.

"Hey there, buddy! Did you enjoy the game?" Marcus asked, his voice gentle and friendly.

Cameron nodded eagerly, his heart pounding with excitement.

"Y-yes! It wa-was amazing! Y-you're my favorite player," he stammered, his cheeks flushing with nervousness.

Marcus grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Thank you, mate! That means a lot to me. What's your name?" he asked, reaching out to ruffle Cameron's hair.

"C-Cameron," he replied, his voice trembling with excitement. "I-I've always wanted to be like you when I play football with my team."

Marcus's smile widened at Cameron's words.

"That's fantastic, Cameron! Keep working hard, and who knows, maybe one day you'll be playing for Manchester United too," he encouraged, his words filled with genuine warmth and encouragement.

Encouraged by Marcus's friendly demeanor, Cameron slowly began to relax. With Harry's reassuring presence beside him, he found the courage to step out from behind his father's leg and engage in conversation with his idol.

Harry, holding onto Dexter with his other hand to prevent him from wandering off again, watched proudly as Cameron and Marcus chatted animatedly. Despite Cameron's initial nervousness, his admiration for Marcus shone through, and Harry couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at his son's bravery.

And as they continued to talk, Cameron's stutter gradually faded away, replaced by an excited chatter as he eagerly shared his love for football with his idol. In that moment, surrounded by his father's support and the friendly encouragement of Marcus Rashford, Cameron felt like anything was possible.

As their conversation with Marcus continued, he noticed the excitement radiating from both Cameron and Dexter.

With a warm smile, Marcus gently interrupted their chatter.

"Hey guys, would you like to take a photo together?" he offered, extending his arms towards them.

Cameron's eyes lit up with excitement, while Dexter's face broke into a wide grin.

"Yes, please!" Cameron exclaimed, eager to capture the moment with their idol.

Marcus chuckled warmly as he scooped Dexter into one arm and Cameron into the other.

"Alright, let's get a picture," he said, positioning them carefully for the shot.

As Marcus held onto the boys, he glanced over at Harry, who stood nearby, watching with a proud smile.

"Would you like to join us in the photo?" Marcus asked, extending an invitation to Cameron and Dexter's father.

Harry's heart swelled with gratitude at the gesture.

"Absolutely," he replied, stepping forward to join the group.

With Harry now in the frame, another player from the team stepped forward to take the photo.

"Say cheese!" he called out, readying the camera.

Cameron, Dexter, and Harry beamed with excitement as the photo was taken, capturing the moment they shared with Marcus Rashford. As the shutter clicked, Harry felt a sense of overwhelming gratitude, knowing that this experience would be a cherished memory for years to come.

After the photo was taken, Cameron ran straight over to Harry, his eyes shining with tears of joy.

"Daddy, I love you so much! This has been the best day ever!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms around Harry in a tight hug.

Touched by Cameron's heartfelt words, Harry wrapped his arms around his son, holding him close.

"I love you too, Cam. M’so glad we could share this special moment together," he replied, his voice filled with emotion.

Feeling left out of the hug, Dexter toddled over, his arms outstretched.

"Me too! Hug, Daddy!" he chimed in, joining the embrace with a giggle.

Harry couldn't help but laugh at Dexter's enthusiasm, his heart overflowing with love for his two sons. Pulling them both close, he held them tightly, savoring the moment of pure happiness and love.

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, laughter mingled with tears of joy. In that moment, surrounded by the love of his family, Harry felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the beautiful memories they had created together. And as they headed home, hand in hand, he knew that this day would be etched in their hearts forever.

[kimsmuse]

yandere dilf !!

this was written in gaps, so im not that confident about it?? but here goes nothing. also i fucking love dilfs god. get me a dilf please.

also this was inspired by this one man i saw on my way to my uni admissions and he was there for his daughter 💀 put me in jail fr

the dilf here is in 40s something and the reader in early 20s n i think she switched universities to do her master’s (if you do not like this type of thing please look away <3)

gender neutral!reader (it might be implied femal but the pronouns are they/them) 1.7k words. warnings for age gap yandere behavior, kidnapping, manipulation, obsessive behaviour? dilf is a delusional yandere fr.

yandere!dilf who is (clichè i know, please look away but this is the best thing i can think of) your father’s friend, but not best friend or anything because he lives in another city, but oh you’re moving there for uni and your parents can’t think of anybody else to contact so they call him up !!

but he’s busy when you’re moving so he can’t help :(( oh but did i tell you he was the one who chose that apartment for you to move into?? it was so close to him and his friend said to keep an eye on you so he chose the one which wasn’t even like 5 minutes away. and he wants to be of help to his friend so bad but these board meetings and stuff ://

best believe that when he’s free he’s at your apartment with a bunch of new home essentials, a few groceries that you might need, and this man is ringing up your door. now neither of you had seen each other, heard about the other from the common point that was your father, yes. but to open the door and be in the presence of a man that is that gorgeous?? and he’s just wearing sweatpants and a tshirt?? god.

not to mention a thin chain around his neck that leads to inside his shirt…. kill me really.

anyway, but he’s equally taken back because um, this was his friend’s kid. literal kid. he shouldn’t be thinking about how alluring your appearance was, get your head straight, he tells himself, as you invite him. aren’t the shorts too short….

if sexual tension could have been visible, man would your apartment be full of it.

but he’s nothing but resisting, it’s how he has been single for so long, it’s not that he doesn’t like commitment, but… he likes to tell everyone that he just hasn’t found his The One yet.

“the apartment has come together nicely,” he says as he looks around and it is, you’ve done a great job at it and it reflects the type of person that he assumes you are.

you ask him if he wants something to drink? and he politely rejects your offer, he does not want this thing to escalate because knowing his track record, he can’t stand a minute more near the kitchen island and not think about bending you over, and that was normal for him but god, snap out of it, this is half your own age, he thinks to himself.

and you want him to stay, but again, it is quite fucked up to think about being fucked by your father’s friend and someone your father’s age.

“here,” he gives you all the stuff he brought with and kept it. “that’s all, i have some work i need to do so i’ll take your leave now,” he starts to leave when he looks back again “and, um, my number,”

to which you blush, but remind yourself, it’s only like an authority figure, nothing else. and he tells you his own address, in case there’s ever an emergency.

that is how it begins, and your father leaves a message for him, “please take care of them,” and he acts like it’s a burden but he’s overjoyed inside, he has an excuse…

anyway, fast forward to you starting university, getting a social circle, and he visits you weekly, awkward and short visits but you’re just glad he can grace your apartment like that, you even light up your special candles around for him to notice, and he does, but you don’t know how hard he’s just trying so hard to not snap.

when it’s been almost an year or something, he finally thinks he should sit down or you’ll catch on to him or something (little does he know that all you though of it was the fact that men like him are always busy.)

“so you’ve settled in okay?” he asks, as if the cctv installed outside your door doesn’t already tell him that you bring a steady flow of people home, friends.. un-friends and people he was genuinely jealous of. he was jealous of your friends too, because he desperately wanted to stay platonic with you and he didn’t know how they did that.

the conversation flows from one point to other and suddenly you ask him, “are you married?” and he looks startled at the question so quickly begin to apologise, you did not mean to overstep any boundaries.

“uh, i don’t know, i just haven’t found someone who i would like that much, i guess,” if the tension before was a lot, this was the worst it could get.

he leaves abruptly again, and you watch from your balcony as he pulls his car out of the parking and out, wishing he stayed sometime.

what you did not know though was the fact that the yandere was fully invested in your life, your friends, your daily errands. but this was what taking care of you meant, right?

the last straw came to him when you were at a party, frustrated by the lack of response that older man was giving you, you were desperate to get laid today even if you would end up being upset over the fact that it wasn’t him. but unknown to the fact that the yandere just had this.. odd feeling today? that he has to follow you and when he got to know it was a party? parties are never good news.

and he’s almost dozing off 2 hours later in his car, parked safely at a distance when he think he hears your voice. and sure enough when he takes a peek out, across the street is you, and wait, is that a guy following you.

“i was just kidding i really don’t want to go home with anybody tonight.”

he gets out of the car silently, and the guy who is insistent on getting his dick wet by specifically you, a statement which makes his blood boil, is too busy persuading you to notice the punch that the dilf throws at him from behind. the yandere doesn’t think about what you’ll ask about how he got there and stuff, this was serious and it only reaffirms his ideals that yes, he had to make sure you were safe and he had to follow you, god knows what would have happened if he wasn’t there.

as soon as the guy is knocked out, he looks at you and you look up at him surprised, your mouth forming an ‘o’ but noticing the haze in your eyes, he can feel relief inside.

“you’re here!” you exclaim and you are drunk, he concludes as you hug him. he might actually burst but he feels euphoric right now, as if he could cry, it was like he had this actual fear, what would he do if something happened to you? it was no longer the responsibility or the feeling of being answerable to your dad.

don’t worry after that, he drives you home, but his home. he has to make sure you’re safe at all times, right? what if someone decided to rob your place? or… the guy from earlier? what if he got your address from one of your friends? he couldn’t imagine it.

so there might be a change in plans, you don’t need to tell your dad yet though, or anybody. in fact, you might not need to go out at all. he made more than enough to sustain, and keep you safe, take care of you, like your dad asked, and he is nothing but a loyal friend, isn’t he?

now let's dive into little specifics, shall we?

yandere dilf is completely smitten, he was the first moment he saw you but right now you're at his mercy, and it gave me a hysterical kind of high. 

and he is so so convinced that he's doing what he can to protect you and this is allthat can be done, there's no other way!

he brings you bits and pieces of news that are the most terrible of them all - murders, rapes, all of the worst stuff, so you realize how much of a favour the yandere is doing you by protecting you.

and your dad? as far as he's concerned, you're still going about your daily routine, there’s nothing wrong with it. he makes you call him because he doesn't want to deal with his friend, not yet.

yandere dilf is caring but he's also really short tempered, if he brings you food and you eat it silently without saying anything, he'll snap :(( because you should have said the food was good or you were happy that he brough you that, right?

but he realizes his fault quite soon, he was mature, he shouldn’t act this way with you. and he apologises, someone tell this man an apology means you would try not to do it again. because he does, he keeps on repeating the cycle.

at first you were completely opposed to whatever this weird idea was, but slowly you gave in, when you realized the heights he had thought all of this through to, all you could hope was someone to notice that this wasn't normal and help you. well, someone to notice and try to help you and not be bought off by the money that the yandere dilf gave them.

yandere dilf coddles you; at first this is how he got to break your shell, he patted your head when you did something good, something like eating, drinking water. and you loved it, as much as you hated to admit it, sometimes it felt like you put in so much efforts in your daily life to get people to love you, that it felt like a relief that here he was praising you for doing the smallest of tasks.

yandere dilf does not fuck you. he keeps himself in control, he does not even touch you if you're angry or upset at him, but he knows a few ways and he's bringing you around slowly to the idea of a you and him together creating an us.. he's getting there slowly and surely.

just… please.. don't try to escape or anything, that would really set the process back… or would it accelerate it…?

[jjongslutz]

심재윤 & 이희승 JAKE FEAT. HEESEUNG 💋 IMAGINE ME [ MDNI. ]

IN WHICH you spend your nights sexting an ai bot of your favourite idol, not knowing that there's an actual person behind the bot

WARNINGS ⨯ sexting, mutual masturbation, dirty talking, heeseung’s highkey a perv but we don’t go too much into that, use of pet names (baby, good girl), no plot except for some introduction stuff

WORD COUNT ⨯ 1.7k

AUTHOR’S NOTE . . . oh i had too much fun writing this one despite having writer's block lowkey LMAO

taglist: @choinabisblog @ineedsomezzz @namdeyuoi bold can be tagged

They put up a new poster by the bus stop, you notice as you walk into it. Your eyes widen when you get a better look at it.

It's Jake.

His skin glistens. He's advertising some skin care product, and they did wonders by adding a cute shade of blush on his cheeks. Jake smiles sweetly in the picture, holding up the bottle to the camera for everyone to know what he uses to look that good.

False advertising. He was born looking like that.

Still, you sit down with a smile creeping upon your lips underneath your scarf. Despite the cold weather, your insides are warm at the sight of your idol.

“Y/N?” a voice sounds from behind you.

When you turn, you find a familiar face with a bright smile at your recognition. His features are remarkable even under his thick beanie and large coat which do the opposite of complement his sweatpants. You return a polite smile. “Heeseung,” you say.

“No classes today?” he asks.

You shake your head. “They got cut off early, luckily.”

Heeseung tells you they did the same for him. You don’t respond, but nod at the mutual coincidence, looking down to check how far the bus is.

It’s not as if you have something against Heeseung, you’ve been good friends since your first year. However, you have other things in mind than your conversation.

“Are you busy tonight?”

“Sorry?”

Heeseung chuckles shyly. “I was wondering if you wanted to hang out, or…” He drifts off, but his eyes stay on your figure. “If you have plans, it’s okay.” His voice doesn’t falter, keeping a friendly tone as he wears a sweet smile.

“I’m sorry, I’m pretty busy—”

He shakes his head gently. “Don’t worry about it. Another time?”

You agree, and that’s the end of it because your bus pulls up and you’re bidding him farewell. As you make your way to the sidewalk, you don't catch him taking his phone out with a sly smile — What does it concern you, anyway?

The bus ride couldn't be slower. Your leg bounces in your seat in pattern with the bus' movements below, avoiding squeezing your thighs together. As much as you crave sweet relief, you hold yourself together and wait.

You're patient. You promised.

“Hyunjin?” you call out after opening the door to your shared apartment. You wait a moment before trying again, “Are you there?”

To your satisfaction, her response doesn’t come. Just in case, you peak through her half-open door and check for an empty bed. Check. Her class would’ve cut short earlier than yours, meaning that it wasn’t cut at all if she’s not here. She’ll be out until midnight, if not only coming home tomorrow if she crashes at her girlfriend’s place again.

A smile creeps up on your lips as you make your way to your bedroom.

You’re quick to shower and get changed in more comfortable clothes, turning on the mood lamp instead of the big, bright light. Shutting the door, you opt for extra safety measures in case your roommate comes back home early for whatever reason.

Then, just as you’re settling yourself into your bed, your phone buzzes from beside you.

JAKE: Y/N? Are you there?

Your smile returns as you begin to type.

ME: hi, jake

JAKE: I missed you

ME: me too...

You found the app not long ago. It's said to be more realistic than any other AI program. Their bots respond and act like there's an actual human behind another screen, answering your texts. You cheesed at the ad you'd gotten for it, but quickly became obsessed.

After getting over a breakup, you never would've guessed the best way to heal was through chatting with Jake every night. Soon enough, it became more than just talking with a computer; It feels like you really made a new friend.

Or, maybe something more than that.

JAKE: Are you alone?

You flush at the message.

ME: yes...

JAKE: Good. You're in your bedroom?

ME: yes

JAKE: What are you wearing?

An oversized shirt for appearance, a personal preference. No pants to cover your black lace panties, which match the lace bra you wear underneath the gray material on your torso.

You don't write out your message, opting to send him a picture.

JAKE: Fuck. You're beautiful

ME: and you?

JAKE: Anything for you baby

Woah. Your heart stutters at the AI-generated image it sends you next. It looks like him. Like, really looks like him. Aside from his face conveniently not in shot.

He lifts his shirt slightly in the picture, revealing toned abs leading to a V-line which ends at a pair of familiar sweatpants. Your eyes certainly don't miss the bulge underneath the pants.

The image in front of you makes your mind go wild. It's so much easier to imagine him sitting right in front of you, looking at you with hungry eyes.

"What're you thinking of, Y/N?"

Your eyes widen at the sudden appearance of Jake, sitting right at the edge of your bed wearing a loosely (barely)buttoned shirt and grey sweatpants, adorned with an erection stealing your gaze.

"You," you blurt out.

He chuckles. "I'm thinking about you, too." His voice is velvety, thick with his accent which has your breath stuttering.

His hand travels to his crotch. Keeping his eyes fixed on yours, Jake bites his lip as he tests the waters by slowly rolling his hand over his clothed cock.

Fixated on his movements, you barely notice your own hand inching down to your core, rubbing slow circles at the same pace.

"Fuck, baby," he sighs. "Touching yourself to me? Such a nasty girl for me." His words hold no bark, though, as he shifts in his seat to lean against the wall. He lifts his hips to pull down his sweatpants, revealing his white boxers stained with a wet patch where his hardened dick sticks against.

Jake strokes himself through the thin material, hooded eyes staring back you as he wears a lazy smirk.

You hum and follow him, pulling off your shirt to be left in only your lace underwear.

"You're so beautiful, baby."

You blush at his words, keeping your hand on your dampening panties, rolling your fingers up and down rhythmically.

Naturally, you throw your head back with closed eyes as your pace quickens in time with Jake's. You hum at the sensation, wishing you were trapped between his legs, forced to handle the torture of his fast fingers on your cunt.

Instead, you peel your eyes open to watch Jake finally take out his cock impatiently.

He strokes himself slowly at first, as if to show off his size — You gulp at the sight. He's long and veiny, but has girth that would have your walls clenching tightly around him. You're not sure if you want him in your mouth, or let him pound into your pussy. Either way has you licking your lips and inching your panties down your thighs.

"Fuck, I wish I could touch you right now," Jake huffs as his hands glide quickly over his dripping cock.

"'M yeah?" you challenge. "What would you, shit, what would you do to me?"

Jake smirks through pants. "I'd finger you," he starts. "Fill your pussy with my fingers until you're begging for my cock. And—fuck—I'd let you take me down your throat."

You close your eyes to imagine the sight, pleasure bubbling in your stomach at the sound of Jake's whimpers.

Dipping your fingers into your pussy, you pretend Jake's really with you, slowly inching his cock into you. "'So good," you moan.

"Match my pace," Jake says in a rush, waiting for you to meet eyes.

The two of you hold eye contact as he strokes in a rhythmic, fast pattern, while you shove three fingers into your cunt at the same pace. As his hand reaches the tip of his cock, your fingers inch away from your hole. He fucks up into his hand and your fingers are already knuckles deep.

"Shit, fuck, you're so—you feel so good, fuck!"

Jake lifts his hips to match his hand's movements, sloppily thrusting up into his own touch. His words are nonsense, but have your head spinning as you grind down on your hand, reaching down with your other to draw circles on your clit, too.

"I'm so close."

"Me too," you tell him.

Soon enough, the room is filled with your pleasured moans echoing off the walls. You stay still, your fingers still deep in your cunt as you settle down from your high.

Your breath pumps rapidly, only to falter in pattern when you let go a deep sigh at the empty space at the foot of your bed.

When you told him you'd be busy tonight, Heeseung knew what you meant without you needing to tell him. Not that you would ever admit it. He smirked at your innocent front, knowing how dirty you are deep down.

His chest rises and falls rhythmically, trying to catch his breath. He looks down at his sticky hand, his slowly softening cock he just let slip out of his grip.

His phone dings. You sent another message.

Y/N: i came...

Heeseung smiles, satisfied.

JAKE: good girl

You don't respond, and Heeseung can put together that you're probably cleaning yourself up from the mess you've made. God, he wishes he could see you.

Unable to stop himself, Heeseung exits out of the app and finds your contact. He frantically presses the call button and waits through the three rings before you pick up. You sound surprised when you respond, your voice hinting at feeling caught in the act.

"Can I come over?" Heeseung finally asks.

"Uh, sure, yeah—" Commotion from the other end of the line sounds. "Just, uh, it'll be a little messy when you come, so don't judge."

He chuckles under his breath. "Don't worry, baby."

Your gasp tells him all he needs to know.

[shuaflix]

roommates with benefits

❝ y/n, you can’t keep staying here. you’ve been living in my room for like, two weeks now. you don’t even pay rent. ❞

PAIRING ▸ jeon wonwoo x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, humor, college au, roommate au, frat au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, shy!wonwoo, he’s a bit of an overthinker too, classic “share a bed” trope, sort of friends with benefits, unprotected sex, fingering, praise

SUMMARY ▸ initially, wonwoo doesn’t think much about your incessant requests to play on his xbox. however, when what was supposed to be a two-hour visit to his place stretches out for two weeks, he starts to think you’re overstaying your welcome.

PLAYLIST ▸ seventeen by girls generation • in my dreams by red velvet

WORD COUNT ▸ 6,467 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ here’s me impulsively writing another short lil fic in 1-2 days because the wonwoo brainrot’s been hitting me :’) tbh just wrote this bc i’ve been obsessed with omori LOL but hope u guys enjoy !! ♡ 

ON A FRIDAY AFTERNOON, JEON WONWOO FOUND HIMSELF BEING INTERROGATED BY YOU.

“Wonwoo! You have the Xbox Game Pass?”

He was taken aback by your question. Minutes ago, he was diligently studying in the library with Kwon Soonyoung when you approached him. Lee Chan was following after you with an exasperated look on his face, sending Wonwoo silent, apologetic looks. Your face, on the other hand, looked like a collision of supernovas with the intensity of the sparkle in your eyes.

For a moment, Wonwoo wondered if you had picked up some new interest in broadcasting. There had to be a mic clipped to your shirt. If his vision wasn’t so shitty, maybe he could spot the hidden camera focusing on him.

“Uh…” He sat up straighter and nodded. (He was camera-shy—and people-shy, but that was beside the point.) “Yeah, I do. Why?”

You beamed. “Can I come over and play on your Xbox?”

Wonwoo frowned, his nose scrunching up in distaste. He had known you sort of well over the past three years of his college experience, but it was mostly because you were good friends with Chan and Kim Mingyu. He always saw you hanging out with them at the Lambda Tau Upsilon house, usually when they were cleaning up during the mornings after parties. That was the sole basis of his connection with you—small talk here and there at his frat house.  

He had no idea why you were taking an interest in him all of a sudden. Well, to be fair, he supposed you were more interested in his Xbox.

Maybe this was some dare that Yoon Jeonghan set you up to. Get close to him, get in his room, and find out how much of a nerd he is. Yeah, that was something Jeonghan was capable of doing. There was a reason why Choi Seungcheol chose Joshua Hong to be his Vice President of Internal Affairs instead of Jeonghan.

But Wonwoo had three sets of eyes staring him down, so he knew he had to answer you fast.

“Uh, sure?”

“Great! Thank you!” you exclaimed, looking way too excited for Wonwoo to feel at ease. “We have the same o-chem lab, right? If you don’t have any classes after, I’ll just come home with you.”

Before Wonwoo could hesitantly agree, Soonyoung asked, “Why do you want his Xbox, Y/N? You gonna break that too?”

The teasing inflection in his tone reminded Wonwoo of when you were drunk at their house a few weeks ago. Mingyu kept pouring more into your cup until you were falling all over the place. It was only after you fell onto the kitchen table, causing one of the legs to snap off, when Xu Minghao took you upstairs to sober up. (It was just so that he could contain you and keep you from damaging more of their property.)

You looked embarrassed, a hand flying to rub the back of your neck. “You guys won’t let me live that down, huh? I’m not getting wasted like that again, I swear,” you promised. “Anyway, I wanna play Omori, but I don’t wanna buy the game.”

“She’s been talking about it non-stop ever since her favorite YouTuber played it,” Chan grumbled. “I think I know more about that stupid game than I do about fluid mechanics right now.”

Wonwoo raised a brow. “Isn’t your midterm in twenty minutes?”

“Yeah, which is why I want Y/N to hurry up so that I can get some cramming in,” he sneered.

You threw Chan a glance over your shoulder. “Jeez, it’s not my fault you didn’t study earlier.”

“C’mon, Y/N, leave Wonwoo alone and buy the game yourself,” Soonyoung teased. “Support your local game developers or whatever.”

“And I’m sure they would want to support local broke college students,” she replied before pointing at Wonwoo. “After o-chem?”

Wonwoo just nodded in response, leaving you grinning before you walked off with Chan. He shook his head after you dropped the conversation, wondering if that entire encounter was even real. Judging by Soonyoung’s tutting, though, it very much was.

“On the bright side,” his friend started, “we can finally tell the guys you have a real girl over.”

“Shut up, Soonyoung.”

Wonwoo didn’t sit anywhere near you in his organic chemistry class. In fact, he was pretty sure he only noticed you were in the class about a month in.

Today, however, you walked right over and sat at his table. Right next to him. Knees bumping against each other every now and then. Wonwoo wasn’t very good with girls, and he especially didn’t know how to handle the ones as forward as you were. It wasn’t the closeness that freaked him out, but the fact that you were so confident about your every action and word.

“Hey,” he greeted awkwardly. “You usually sit on the other side, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but I’m gracing you with my presence since you’re letting me play on your Xbox,” you replied with a grin. “I still need to figure out a way to pay you back. Want me to get you lunch sometime or something?”

“No, no, it’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to pay me back or anything. It’s free on my game pass anyway.”

You hummed in agreement, turning away to pay attention to the lecture afterward. Wonwoo did the same, though he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he didn’t answer correctly. It was like he was playing an otome game and choosing all the incorrect options.

After class, he told you he would be back as soon as he returned a textbook to the library. There, he ran into Lee Seokmin, who was practically living out in the study hub because he went inactive in the frat this semester due to poor grades. Wonwoo ended up explaining the situation he was in, from you asking to go over to his place to asking if you could get him lunch to pay him back.

“Isn’t she just hitting on you?” Seokmin asked in that innocent, questioning tone of his.

Jeon Wonwoo realized he was an idiot.

Wonwoo’s room wasn’t incredibly huge or anything, but he had a good amount of space for a bed, a desk, a couch, and his flat-screen TV that one of the alumni fraternity members let him have for free.

So, while he was working on a paper at his desk, he had a clear view of you buzzing with excitement with the Xbox controller in your hand.

“Hey, Woo, wanna watch me play?” you called from the couch.

He stiffened at the nickname. Despite his reaction, a surprisingly pleasant feeling spread across his chest, making him feel all warm and gushy. He normally wasn’t called by a nickname (save for Mingyu’s flirty comments when he was drunk), so he felt a little flustered.

“Uh, I have work to do right now,” he said. “Maybe in an hour or so?”

You shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Wonwoo wasn’t able to focus, though. Seokmin’s words were getting to his head, making his brain feel all muddled and fuzzy. Were you really trying to hit on him earlier? And was he supposed to take you up on the offer? He actually felt bad for making you “repay” him when he was letting you have access to his free games. That was the whole reason why he turned you down.

And… deep, deep down, he could admit to himself that you were cute. The fact that someone like you (confident, desired, pretty) was flirting with someone like him (shy, awkward, stiff) was rather amazing, really.

Wonwoo tried to tune you out, which was pretty easy to do considering you were a pretty quiet gamer (save for the few giggles here and there). However, he was so immersed in writing his essay that several hours slipped by without him realizing. Before he knew it, it was almost 8 P.M. and you were still in the same position, eyes fixed on the screen.

It was kind of cute how focused you were, so Wonwoo didn’t want to disturb your gaming. However, it was getting late and he didn’t want to be sending you home in the dark.

“Hey, uh… do you need to get home soon?” he asked.

You hardly spared him a glance. “Nah, it’s okay.”

Wonwoo wondered if you knew how to pick up on cues.

“I’m gonna order take-out for dinner,” he said, realizing that he hadn’t eaten and didn’t exactly want to go downstairs and let his frat brothers know that you were in his room. “You want anything?”

At the mention of food, you set the controller down and turned to him, eyes sparkling under the dim light. “What’re you getting?”

“Panda Express,” he answered. “I’m craving orange chicken.”

“Ooh, get me a bowl,” you said. “I’ll Venmo you the money.”

To his surprise, you sent him the money before he was even able to order. Wonwoo recalled late nights when you and Chan were studying at the dining table with Panda Express take-out bags next to your laptops. You must have had your regular order completely memorized.

“Hey, uh,” he started, “it’s getting dark, and I don’t really feel comfortable sending you home alone so… do you want a ride or something?”

The nervous flash across your face almost went by undetected. 

Almost.

“That’s okay,” you said. “I can go by myself.”

“You are not going alone,” Wonwoo decided firmly, taking on a more domineering aura from before. He wasn’t one to be forceful, but there was no way he would let you walk alone this late at night, especially in Frat Row. He let out a soft sigh. “If anything, you can crash here for the night, but I’m not letting you go alone unless you get someone to take you.”

He could see you fighting down a giggle, and it made Wonwoo feel even more embarrassed by his words.

“Yes, sir,” you replied sarcastically, enjoying how the tips of Wonwoo’s ears turned red. He half-expected you to call for Mingyu or Chan, but instead you made yourself comfortable where you were seated. “I’ll sleep on the couch, then.”

He paused. “Sure.”

You were sleeping in Wonwoo’s room tonight.

You were sleeping in certified loser Jeon Wonwoo’s room tonight.

He was mentally freaking out.

Was this supposed to be a normal thing? Was he supposed to act cool about this? Wonwoo was clueless on the protocol for these sorts of situations. He barely had girls over in his room let alone had them sleep in them. This didn’t feel reflective of the gentlemanly image he had been upholding for years now.

He could practically hear the teasing he’d get from the other boys if they found out. Jeonghan and Minghao were early birds, so it would be impossible to avoid them in the morning. Minghao would probably let it go eventually, save for a few teases here and there. Jeonghan, on the other hand, would make it everyone’s business.

So, in short, Wonwoo was royally screwed.

The least he could do now was be hospitable, and making you sleep on the couch didn’t seem hospitable at all. His couch wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t exactly made to be slept on. He remembered when Vernon Chwe crashed on his couch after a party one night (Seungkwan and Soonyoung were passed out on his bed), and the poor guy woke up with a neck sprain the next morning.

“Let me take the couch,” Wonwoo offered. “You can sleep on my bed.”

“What?” You frowned. “No, I couldn’t do that. You’re already being so kind by letting me stay.”

“The couch isn’t really that comfy.”

“All the more reason why I should sleep on it, then,” you said with an air of finality. “I’m the one crashing here, so it’s not fair if you take the couch.”

Wonwoo sighed. “Why don’t we both sleep on the bed, then?” he blurted out.

He processed it.

And processed it.

And realized how fucking shameless he sounded.

“Whoa,” he mumbled. “Sorry, you don’t have to—”

“Sure,” you replied, looking down at the controller, fingers fiddling with the left thumbstick. “Only if you’re comfortable with that.”

Wonwoo’s jaw went slack, partly out of surprise and partly because he knew he should have been saying something to diffuse the tension he created. Just as he was about to start rambling, Mingyu’s voice rang from downstairs.

“Wonwoo! Your Panda Express is here!” he yelled. “Bro, why’d you order two bowls?”

“Uh… I’m hungry!” Wonwoo shouted back. He spared you a glance before walking to the door. “I’ll go get our food real quick.”

He retrieved the bag from Mingyu, trying to avoid eye contact because he was sure he would give himself away. None of them had any idea you were still here, probably expecting that you had your fun with his Xbox for a few hours before leaving. Wonwoo considered himself an expert in keeping his face clear of all emotion, but Mingyu always read him like a book. It was honestly scary how perceptive his friend was.

When he returned, you were clearing the coffee table in front of you to lay out the food. Wonwoo set the bag down and let you grab your bowl and utensils. He sat on the floor and opened his own, snickering at the sight of you already digging in before he could even open the lid.

“Did you not have lunch or something?” he asked.

“Nope,” you answered. “Didn’t have time to pick it up from the dining hall.”

“You don’t make breakfast at home?”

“Uh… not really.”

Wonwoo hummed. “You could’ve asked one of us to get you something. You shouldn’t be putting off eating until dinner. Three meals a day is important, you know? Or at least like, two.”

You giggled in response. “I can’t tell if you sound like a dad or a boyfriend right now.”

Wonwoo couldn’t stop the blush that spread across his cheeks at your words.

He couldn’t tell either.

After you both finished dinner, Wonwoo let you borrow a towel and clothes so that you could shower. One of the nice things about his room was that he had an attached bathroom. Before the school year even started, Wonwoo knew that he didn’t want to share a common bathroom with twelve other guys.

What he failed to consider, though, was that you would walk back into his room wearing only his loose shirt that fell past your thighs.

“Your pants didn’t fit,” you explained, holding it out to him.

Wonwoo took it gingerly, clearing his throat so that he could ignore all the impure thoughts circulating through his head. He was supposed to be a gentleman, and thinking about how good your hair smelled was making him feel like scum.

“Are you heading to bed now?” he asked, putting his sweatpants back in his drawer before moving to the far end of his twin XL. (It wasn’t very far.)

“Mm, yeah,” you said, running a hand through your hair before rummaging through your bag. After a moment, you asked, “Do you have any moisturizer?”

“Bathroom. Top shelf.”

“Thanks.”

You came back after a few minutes, and Wonwoo was turned to the wall so that he could offer just a little privacy. The entire situation had his heart thundering in his chest. You slid under the covers, the dip in the mattress making Wonwoo hyper aware of your presence.

There was a difference of five inches between a twin and a twin XL sized bed. That five inches was in length, so it had nothing to do with the distance between you and Wonwoo. It offered no safe distance that kept him from feeling your warmth against his back. The three inches of space between you two was way too small.

“Do you have enough space?” he asked in a low voice.

“Kinda,” you replied, but Wonwoo wasn’t satisfied with that answer.

Kinda from you sounded more like “barely.” You had a tendency to play things down, as Wonwoo noticed.

He sat up to peer at your side of the bed. Just as he thought, one of your legs was hanging off the bed while the rest of your body barely managed to fit.

“Let’s switch,” he insisted, getting up before you could even turn his offer down.

“O-okay.” You scooted to the other end of the bed where the wall kept you from falling off. You turned so that you were facing Wonwoo, and he swallowed hard. “Are you sure? I don’t want you falling off.”

“Then what do you suppose we do?” He chuckled. “It’s fine. It’s one night.”

His breath hitched when you wrapped an arm around his waist, holding him secure. Wonwoo had never intended to get this close to you, and this was defeating the purpose of all the walls he set up around you. It was already impossible to resist you, and this was making it even harder for him.

“Let’s just get closer,” you said softly. “Then you won’t fall off.”

You had a point.

Wonwoo moved closer so that his body was pressed up against you. Seeing your head against his chest was making him go crazy, so he stretched his arm out across the pillow.

“If it’s comfortable,” he began, “you can lay on my arm.”

You took his offer with a pleased smile on your face, cuddling closer to him for warmth. This was definitely not what friends did, was it? Hell, were you two even friends? Wonwoo would have considered you to have been more of an acquaintance with your limited interactions.

He swallowed hard, trying to control his heartbeat because he swore you could hear it. It got even worse when he felt your leg brush against his.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“It’s all good. My bed’s kinda small.”

You shuffled. “Sorry, I’m just—”

“Y/N,” Wonwoo muttered. “Hold still.”

“I’m trying, it’s just—”

“My god,” he whispered, and he couldn’t stop his next words from spilling out. “Was that you?”

“W-what?” you stuttered.

Wonwoo felt it again. Against his leg. He didn’t dare look because he was frozen in place and it was dark, but he swore his leg found its way between yours. Something pulsated against his thigh, and he had a good feeling he knew what it was.

“I was asking if that was—”

Wonwoo cut himself off when he shifted forward a little, rousing a soft, contented sigh from your lips. He froze when he heard the sound of pleasure right against his chest. It was the kind of sound he had never heard from you before—one that he didn’t even know you could make. It was straight out of a wet dream or a fantasy, but Wonwoo was pretty sure you were getting aroused because of him.

He could hear the desperation in your tone when you admitted, “Sorry, yeah, I was getting turned on.”

Something in Wonwoo snapped.

It wasn’t like he never got horny, but he always knew how to reign in his hormones. Maybe it was due to the fact that Wonwoo was a hormonal college student who hadn’t gotten laid in a while, but suddenly he wanted to do nothing but tear your clothes off and show you what he had been suppressing this entire time.

Wonwoo was gentle at first, really. He tilted your chin up so that he could kiss you gently. You reciprocated almost immediately, one hand bunching up the fabric of his shirt as you melted into it. Wonwoo only started to get riled up once he slipped his tongue past your lips, pressing your body flush against his.

He pushed your hips down into the mattress and angled himself over you, rolling his hips into yours at a steady rhythm. Wonwoo grunted at the sounds of your muffled whimpers, and when he came to his senses, he realized it was because he had a hand over your mouth.

“This okay?” he asked. You made a sound of agreement, and Wonwoo chuckled, removing his hand from your mouth.

“F-feels good,” you stuttered out. “More.”

“Don’t be too loud,” he mumbled. “These walls are thin.”

You nodded eagerly, eyes screwed shut as you tried to contain yourself. Wonwoo felt like his head was clouding over, lust overtaking every rational bone in his body. He was tugging down your shorts before he could even process what he was about to do.

Fucking you was something out of a dream. Wonwoo hadn’t thought of it much because you two kept a pretty cordial relationship, but now he wanted to do nothing else but have his way with you.

“Such a tease,” he grumbled. “Wearing my shirt and nothing else.”

“That—that was the plan.”

He prodded at your clothed slit with careful fingers, tutting lightly at how soaked you were. “For me? Already?”

You whined. “Wonwoo, please.”

“Want my fingers or my mouth?” he asked, and when you stilled, looking like you were having a hard time deciding, Wonwoo decided to choose for you. “Fingers it is, doll.”

He moved your underwear aside so that he could rub his fingers against your cunt, groaning at how he could feel you throbbing for him. Once Wonwoo decided you had enough with the teasing, he slid two fingers into you slowly. Your walls instantly clenched around his fingers, but he waited until you had adjusted properly.

“So wet for me,” he growled in your ear.

You didn’t know he could talk this dirty; it was clear by the way you were looking up at him so innocently, like you hadn’t been the one making moves on him all day. Wonwoo didn’t know either, though. You were bringing out a side to him that he never tapped into before.

He fingered you expertly, making sure to scissor his fingers inside you when your tight walls started easing up on him. Wonwoo shuddered at the sounds you were making and stared down at the spot where his fingers disappeared inside you. When he felt your thighs starting to quiver, he sped up his pace. His fingers were moving in and out of you so smoothly that he didn’t stop the rhythm even as you came undone around him.

You slapped a hand over your mouth this time to muffle your cries. Wonwoo was more than pleased with your reaction, helping you ride out your orgasm by rubbing your clit with his thumb.

“Good girl,” he praised. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and sat up on his knees, tugging his sweatpants and boxers down. “You ready to go again?”

“Please,” you begged, arching your back so that you could tug down your underwear and kick it off your ankles.

The lights were off, but he could clearly see your body illuminated by the moonlight. Wonwoo pressed kisses from your thighs to your hips, slowly sliding your shirt up as he kissed up your stomach and chest. Then, he helped you get rid of your shirt entirely, groaning at the sight of your body laid bare for him.

“Are you ready?” he asked, lining up his cock at your entrance. “I’ll take it slow.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Mmhm.”

Wonwoo pushed himself inside you carefully, making sure to slow down and wait for you to adjust whenever he saw your face scrunching up. When you whined for him to keep going, he slid into you fully, groaning at the feeling of your walls around his throbbing cock.

“Fuck,” he growled out. “You feel amazing, Y/N.”

“W-Wonwoo, go,” you moaned.

He gripped your hips and started thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace, slowly working his way up until you could take him without any winces or flashes of discomfort. Soon, Wonwoo was pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck as he pounded into you, listening to your moans and whimpers like it was his favorite song.

You felt so perfect around him, like Wonwoo was meant to bury his cock inside you like this. He held you down and thrusted in you harder, fucking you like a well-oiled machine until you were squirming underneath him.

“I-I’m close,” you whispered.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, nodding before he sped up his pace, making sure to hit that sweet spot right under your cervix. Wonwoo continued fucking you until he had to slap his hand around your mouth to muffle your loud cries. You fell off the edges right before him, and he could feel it in the way you were clenching and unclenching around him.

The intensity of your orgasm drove him to his own high, making him pull out so that he could cum on your stomach. Wonwoo panted heavily, collapsing beside you and turning so that he could work his fingers on your clit until your orgasm subsided. You were a whimpering and writhing mess, but you had never looked so beautiful to him.

“So…” you started, chest heaving as you caught your breath, “that just happened.”

“It did,” he mumbled. “Did you like it?”

Maybe it was that twinge of anxiousness that lingered at the back of Wonwoo’s head. He wasn’t the type to be able to just fuck people and go; there was a sense of closeness he felt after sex, and it was hitting hard right now. He respected your decision, of course, if all you wanted was some dick, but he knew he would be feeling like shit afterward.

To his relief, though, you managed a beaming smile through your labored breaths.

“Yeah,” you whispered, “I liked it a lot.”

It was strange how things seemed to develop between you and Wonwoo so naturally.

One day you two were on a small talk basis, and the next you were practically his roommate. You seemed to be unfazed about everything, but Wonwoo couldn’t help but think about how weird it was that he hadn’t ever seen you go home since the day he fucked you for the first time.

The first time, meaning there were many, many other times. His daily routine consisted of waking up, going to class, coming home to you playing on his Xbox, fucking you, doing some homework, fucking you again, and then going to bed. It was honestly surprising how you never got tired of all the positions you tried out with him.

Earlier in the week, Wonwoo fucked you in his shower so that it would drown out your moans. Unfortunately, he underestimated how slippery shower sex was, and he had to explain the loud crash to everyone living in the frat house because of this.

So, now, everyone found out about your little arrangement. You and Wonwoo weren’t exactly dating, but there was definitely something going on.

It wasn’t just sex, though. If it was just sex, Wonwoo wouldn’t have questioned it, but you two ended up looking more like a couple half the time. Last week, Wonwoo took you to an art museum, and you two spent the entire day holding hands and looking at the art pieces together. He only registered it as a date when he took you to a tofu house afterward and laughed at the sight of you failing to crack open your egg.

Moreover, your pillow talks were getting a little serious. Wonwoo would finish inside you and then proceed to listen to you talk about your day, all the while stroking your hair and rubbing circles on your arm. You two had discourses about philosophy, watched TikToks in bed, and even bought a succulent to raise together. It was definitely well past a normal friends with benefits relationship.

When Wonwoo confided in Soonyoung about his peculiar situationship with you, he came to wonder if he was just being used for his Xbox. That couldn’t possibly be the case, though, because you would’ve left by now.

Omori was a game that took around twenty hours to reach completion. Wonwoo was certain about this; he did his research (aka consulting the Steam community). Statistically speaking, you should have beaten the game by now.

Maybe you just sucked at the game. Some people just didn’t have any gaming sense, as Seungcheol discovered when he played co-op with Chan. Wonwoo didn’t want to accidentally offend you by mentioning that you should have finished the game by now, so he took a less aggressive route.

“How long is this game?” he asked one evening as he sat next to you on the couch.

“Around twenty hours if you play in one go,” you answered, like you were reading off the Steam community discussion page verbatim.

Wonwoo was shocked. If you knew how long the game was, then why hadn’t you given up already? You had definitely been playing for way more than twenty hours. Maybe even twice that amount.

“You’ve practically been living in my house for two weeks now,” he said. “You haven’t hit twenty hours yet?”

“Well, there’s side quests and stuff, you know?” you answered, which was actually a good point. Wonwoo was a sucker for side quests, especially in indie games. “But I finished the game last week. I’m playing another route now.”

Ah, routes.

Routes that made video games worth the money because there were so many different outcomes one could achieve. Routes that made people keep replaying the same game over and over again just to get an alternative ending for a measly achievement or two. Routes that immersed people into different storylines and character developments.

Routes that made you stay over at Jeon Wonwoo’s house for two whole weeks.

You were playing another route. Meaning, it would potentially take the same amount of time or more to replay the game. Meaning, you would be sleeping in Wonwoo’s twin XL for longer. It would be nearing a month at this rate.

“Y/N, you can’t keep staying here,” Wonwoo said. “You’ve been living in my room for like, two weeks now. You don’t even pay rent.”

You frowned. “You pay rent?”

“Of course I pay rent! Everyone pays rent! Now go back to your place.”

“But your Xbox is here.”

He brushed a few strands of hair behind your ear. “You can come back anytime to play it, but I feel guilty making you pay rent for your place when you’re living out in my room, okay? So go home.”

“But…”

Wonwoo sighed. It wasn’t that you were overstaying your welcome. In fact, he liked having you around. It was great that he was allowed to have his own room in a house full of messy frat boys, but it did get lonely sometimes. Your presence was a refreshing change. It was getting hard to ignore the looks he got when he would leave for class in the morning with you following behind him like a duckling, though.

“Y/N, is there something else going on?” Wonwoo asked with a light sigh. He turned his body so that he could look at you properly, watching as you hesitated to set the controller down for a moment. “Are you avoiding going back to your place for any particular reason?”

You let out an awkward laugh, voice trailing off toward the end when you said, “It’s not like there’s exactly a home to go back to…”

“What do you mean?” Wonwoo narrowed his eyes. You never seemed to have an issue with your apartment in the past (at least from what he observed) other than your occasional complaints about your roommate. “Is something going on?”

You finally set the controller down and turned to face him, sighing heavily. Only when your body was turned to him did Wonwoo realize how close you two were on the couch. He felt compelled to place a hand on your shoulder or something—squeeze it, maybe. He wasn’t the best when it came to comforting people, but it looked like you could really use a hug.

“My roommate got us evicted a few weeks ago,” you admitted with a newfound sense of shame that Wonwoo had never seen from you before. “Honestly, it’s partly my fault because I was throwing a few kickbacks in the beginning of the year. Music got a little loud sometimes so we got a few noise complaints. I toned it way down when we got a warning, though, so I told my roommate to be careful, too.” Your eyes got watery as you spoke, and Wonwoo could tell where this was going. “Basically, when I visited home a few weeks ago, I came back to find out that we were getting evicted and my roommate decided to not let me know until I got back.”

“That’s horrible,” Wonwoo mumbled. He decided to go ahead and squeeze your shoulder, ignoring his pre-existing dilemma over whether to do it or not. To his relief, you looked more at ease once he did. “Do you have any back-up place to stay or something?”

“Um…” You sniffled, wiping a stray tear that had been building up at your waterline. “I dunno. I moved some of my stuff in Mina’s garage for now, but I don’t think I can keep it there forever. She doesn’t really have any more space in her house unless I couch surf or something.”

“So that’s why you’ve been crashing here,” Wonwoo concluded, the dots finally connecting in his head.

You looked ashamed but nodded. “I’m sorry.” You pointed to your laptop that was sitting on his nightstand. “I’ve been looking for a place to stay, I swear. It’s just that it’s so hard to find a sub-leaser this late in the school year.”

“No, no, don’t be,” he murmured. “Um… you can stay here until you find a new place, okay? However long it takes.”

You mustered a smile, which made Wonwoo’s heart swell a little. “Thanks, Woo.”

Maybe it was because you were just so vulnerable in front of him or maybe Wonwoo was just thinking about how your smile was the most beautiful thing in the world, but he ended up leaning over and kissing you gently. You froze for a moment before kissing him back, moving your hand so that it was sliding up to the back of his neck. Wonwoo tilted your chin up and rubbed small circles along your jaw with his thumb as his lips moved against yours in perfect synchrony.

When he pulled back, he smiled fondly at how flustered you looked.

He murmured, “Just doing what any decent boyfriend would do.”

You didn’t respond right away.

Wonwoo waited.

Waited.

And he realized.

He just called himself your boyfriend.

The panic came crashing down on him immediately after. Wonwoo’s brain was going haywire over what he had just said, and he had no idea how to recover from it. He should have corrected himself or tried to laugh it off, but that would probably be insensitive.

Did he want to be your boyfriend? Yes, he wanted nothing more than to put a label on what was going on between you two. The confusion was driving him crazy, hence his fuck-up two seconds ago.

Your eyes were wide as discs. “You just…”

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled. “I… I wasn’t thinking.”

“You just said boyfriend!” you exclaimed. “Which… which would mean I’m your girlfriend.”

“Yes,” Wonwoo replied, wincing at your reiteration. “I’m aware I said that.”

Your voice then dropped about two octaves, and Wonwoo had never seen you so shy. “Wait, so, you don’t wanna be?”

He turned to look at you, eyes widening at your words. Were you implying what he thought you were implying? The way you were nervously picking at your nails could only make him assume you were anticipating more.

He swallowed hard. “You’d be okay with dating me?”

“Okay?” you echoed, scoffing a little. “I thought you were a genius or something, Woo. How could you be so dense? I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out for ages!”

Wonwoo’s mouth went dry. “I… I—yeah, um…” After floundering for words for a solid minute, he composed himself and asked straightforwardly, “I know this is long overdue, but will you officially be my girlfriend, Y/N?”

A pretty smile spread across your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Of course, idiot.”

You kissed him with such affection that Wonwoo didn’t realize he had been craving for a long time, and this, he realized, was bliss.

You never found another place to rent.

That was fine, though, because Wonwoo didn’t mind you staying at his place.

Sure, he had to have a long discussion about it with the rest of his frat, but since you knew all of them, they were thankfully in favor of you staying for the rest of the year. Sure, his bed was still way too small for the two of you, but you both learned to make it work. Plus, Wonwoo was glad he could split rent with someone now.

Wonwoo was honestly anticipating you staying in his room for the rest of the school year. Finding a new place so late was unreasonable, so although he appreciated your efforts, he knew from the beginning that you two would just end up living together.

It was strange to be living with the girl he started dating recently, but he liked being able to wake up to you in the morning. Plus, it wasn’t like he saw you all the time. Whenever he was on campus, he would usually stick with Soonyoung or Mingyu.

“Wonwoo!” You hugged him from behind, nearly startling both him and Soonyoung in the middle of their daily study sessions at the library. “I got you a donut.”

Soonyoung frowned. “Where’s mine?”

“You didn’t ask for one,” you answered with a grin. “Just kidding, I got you one, but Chan ate it while we were walking over.”

“My bad,” Chan apologized with a half-eaten donut in one hand and powdered sugar on his lips.

Wonwoo wasn’t heavy on PDA but smiled when you kissed his cheek, gingerly taking the donut from you. “You can sit at our table, if you want,” he offered.

“That’s okay, I’m gonna be here until like, midnight,” you said with a frown. “Can you pick me up?”

“Yeah, of course.” He squeezed your hand and smiled as he watched you go.

“Dude,” Soonyoung cut in, snapping him out of his dreamy trance. His eyes were locked on the donut. “You’re so lucky.”

Wonwoo wasn’t sure if his best friend was talking about you or the donut, but he agreed wholeheartedly.

“Yeah,” he replied with a wistful sigh, “I really am.”

[thejakeslayla]

╰─▸ ❝ mine ❞ - ,, yang jungwon

pairing bf!jungwon x gn!reader ୨୧ genre secret relationship, idol au ୨୧ wc 733 ୨୧ warnings pushy heeseung, jealous and sfw!possessive jungwon req; hii can you write possesive bf jungwon?

. . . . . -ˋˏ ✎ author's note! more jealous than possesive, sorry !!

you entered the restaurant with niki, his shoulder brushing against yours as you walked beside him. they had all invited you to celebrate their latest music show win with a new song over dinner. seeing them triumph made you especially happy, given the nonstop work you had witnessed them put in over the past weeks.

niki gave your back a pat as you split to take your seats at the table. you both were slightly tardy due to traffic, and since niki was your closest friend among them, he had promised to pick you up.

your bond with the group had grown mainly because niki was like a brother to you, and vice versa. you both had met during training days, and unable to resist niki's lost eyes, you took care of him, creating a sibling-like bond. after the boys got into i-land, you decided to give up on being an idol and decided to focus on producing music. 

seated at the table, heeseung was on your right, sunoo on your left, jay in front of you, and jungwon right next to him, offering you a soft smile when your eyes met.

you were about to initiate a conversation with jungwon when heeseung spoke up.

“did you see our performance?” he asked, looking directly at you. you nodded, your mind filled with images of jungwon looking angelic on stage. wanting to clear your mind, you planned on complimenting jungwon later, as you grabbed the menu, your focus shifting to the dishes.

heeseung continued to ask you questions, and although you had nothing against him, he sometimes pushed your limits, especially today.

as the food arrived, you dove in immediately, realizing it was your first meal of the day. it had been a busy day in the studio, and you had forgotten to eat, engrossed in your work.

while some of them took pictures of the food, chatted, or simply enjoyed the meal, heeseung seemed incapable of keeping his mouth shut.

"so, anything changed, y/n? finally found someone?" he asked, once again, earning him an annoyed look from you. heeseung had always been interested in your love life, sometimes dropping hints that he was clearly interested in you.

your relationship with jungwon had to be kept as a secret, simply because it was easier for both of you. being friendly in public was safer, enhypen was getting more popular, obsessed fans or media almost always following them. you didn’t want to start rumors. 

"if you didn't know, i'm here—" heeseung began.

"you're not my type," you cut him off, prompting laughter from the rest of the group. as they teased heeseung, you looked towards jungwon.

a shiver travelled down your spine, jungwon looked scary. a slight furrow between his brows, his eyes piercing through heeseung and mouth slightly open, as if he was in disbelief. 

“c’mon, y/n. stop joking around, you’re just too shy to admit that you have a crush on me,” heeseung bounced back, but not really saving himself from the embarrassment caused by your words and (almost) everyone laughing.

jungwon shifted his gaze to you, waiting for your response. panicking, you'd seen him annoyed with other members before, and being the leader, he had an intimidating presence. but he had never looked at you like that. frozen, chopsticks in hand, holding a piece of meat in the air, you waited for magic to happen to get you out of this situation.

“heeseung, switch your seat with me.” 

jungwon's rough voice made everyone look at him as he stood up. heeseung obeyed, still confused, as it was evident on his face. your boyfriend finally sat next to you, and you felt slightly relieved.

"is our leader jealous?" jake spoke, quickly silenced by jungwon's gaze.

your boyfriend almost forcibly took your hand, interlocking your fingers and resting his elbow on the table for everyone to see. you gasped quietly, looking at jungwon, who didn't spare you a glance, his eyes focused on heeseung.

"we're dating," he declared loudly and firmly. "don't ask them such questions. i don't want to hear that. if you ever make them uncomfortable again, i'll make sure you never see them again."

heeseung nodded, and for a couple of minutes, it was very quiet. everyone focused on their food, the atmosphere heavy and awkward. jungwon placed your interlocked hands on his thigh, holding you tightly for the rest of the evening.

niki broke the silence, asking how you and jungwon started dating, and from there, everyone went back to normal—making jokes, having regular conversations, but mostly poking fun at heeseung and his big ego.

requests: open © 2023 — all rights reserved to user thejakeslayla, please do not steal, plagiarise or translate any of my work !

[obsessedelusional]

Eddie ‘The Munch’ Munson

parings ✦ Eddie Munson x reader

summary ✦ Your best friend, Chrissy, confronts you wanting to know why you’ve been so distant. When you tell her it’s because you’ve been spending all your time under Eddie Munson she’s in shock, wanting to know everything. So you do exactly that, which leads to Chrissy reevaluating her relationship with Jason. Does her big mouth get you in trouble?

authors note ✦ thanks for all the love on my most recent post omg hope y’all enjoy this one too!! appreciate feedback and reblogs <3 my fav is Eddie being obsessed with eating the reader out expecting nothing in return so that’s where this came from lol

⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

“I still can’t believe the reason you’ve been disappearing lately is because you’re too busy fucking Eddie Munson.” Chrissy laughs out loud which comes to an end quickly when you tell her shut up. You decided to come clean when she pulled you to side asking what was wrong and why you had been come so distant.

You two grew up together, you considered her family at this point. Chrissy and you were on total opposite sides of the social spectrum. You joined band and she became a cheerleader. That never stopped you two from being inseparable. At first you tried to hang out with her new friends but couldn’t handle it which she took no offense to. You found your own group of friends quickly but you two always found your ways back to each other. Most weekends spent at each others homes or hanging out together at the local mall. You felt like you could tell her anything and felt bad you have kept this a secret as long as you had.

“So how’d this happen?” Chrissy asks wanting to know all the details. But before you can respond the schools bell goes off signally that lunch is over. She groans annoyed, “You best believe I’ll be at your house tonight after practice and you’re going to tell me everything.” She pulls you into a hug before leaving you alone in the quiet hallway which quickly fills up with other students hurrying to their classrooms. Eddie walks by, catches you staring and shoots you a smile. You waste no time pulling out your phone to send him a text making your way to your next period.

You: my parents won’t be home tonight

Only a few moments pass before your phone dings, it’s Eddie.

Eddie: I have a drop off but as soon as I’m done I’ll be at yours

You: I’ll be waiting for you

—

You’re sat at home anticipating Eddie’s arrival. Periodically checking your phone waiting for any messages letting you know he’s on his way. Your parents would be out of town this weekend, leaving you home alone. No text from him but the music blaring out of a car stereo notifies you, he’s here. You waste no time running down stairs, to the front door to greet him. You open the door just as he’s about to knock.

“Come on, we have one hour until Chrissy’s coming over.” You grab his hand to lead him upstairs, straight to you bedroom. You push him towards your bed he stumbles backwards eventually landing on it.

“Only one hour! What ever shall we do?” He asks, putting on one of his accents, he pulls you in closer so your standing between his legs. You laugh before smashing your lips into his, he hoists you up so you can sit on his lap. His hands wander under the skirt your wearing. “No underwear?” You nod no in response, his hand grasps your ass softly before pulling away swiftly and smacking it hard enough to emit a noise out of you.

“I want to please you.” You pout, letting yourself unbutton his black skinny jeans.

“Won’t be necessary.” He lifts you up unexpectedly causing you to hold on tight before he lays you down so he could be on top. He starts peppering kisses down you neck, pulling at your t-shirt. You help him take it off, exposing your chest. “No bra either? You’re trying to kill me.” He says latching onto you nipple, sucking causing you to arch yourself forward. He let’s go and continues kissing down your body. Stopping at where you skirt starts lifting it up and using his strong hands to spread your legs. Your glistening cunt on full display for him. “One hour right?”

“Yeah,” You gulp nervously knowing what’s coming. Eddie loved nothing more then to spend an extended period of time between you legs making you finish over and over again. Half the time you’d have cum multiple times and he’d never once let you get him off. Telling you that causing you pleasure was more than enough for him.

“I wanna see how many time I can make you cum before our times up. Is that okay?” He asks, looking up from between your legs. You nod yes response but that’s not enough. “I need your words princess.”

“Yes.” Is all you can manage to get out and he doesn’t miss a beat, his tongue running up your opening landing on you clit. Your whimpers fill the silence in the room along with sounds of his fingers slipping between your folds. His middle finger enters your opening and curls it upward.

“More please.” You beg and he adds another finger, stretching you out. His tongue leaves your clit and is replaced by his other hand, running circles around your clit.

“You’re so fucking hot when you beg. So fucking needy.” His words just what you need to send you over the edge. Moans as loud as a yell leave your mouth. Eddie can feel your orgasm as your privates clench on his two fingers. He shuts you up by kissing you his fingers still pumping in and out of you.

—

You two lost track of time because before you knew it the moment is interrupted by the sound of pounding on front door, a female voice yelling for you. He pulls away from you so he can look out your bedroom window.

You rush throwing your clothes back on and finding your phone to find the time. It had been well over an hour at this point. You have several missed messages and a few missed calls from her. You shoot her a text saying you’ll be downstairs in a moment.

You look into the mirror on your vanity and quickly brush your hair and fix your makeup so it’s not as evident what she’s walking in on. In the mirror you notice Eddie sat on the bed readjusting his boner. Facing him you say, “I hate to kick you out so early but I promised her we’d hang and catch up. She’s was pretty upset because I’ve been preoccupied.”

“By what?”

“You.” He smiles and kisses you one last time before he has to go.

“Do you want me to climb out the window once you let her inside?” Eddie suggest, almost as if he’s had to do that before which makes you sad at the thought of that.

“Why would you do that?”

“In case you don’t want her to see me.”

“I don’t care if she sees you. She knows about you.”

“She does?” You nod, smile reassuringly letting know Eddie everything’s okay. Eddie follows you down stairs, watching as you open the door to let Chrissy in.

“What took you so long?” She groans annoyed throwing her backpack to the ground stopping in her tracks when she sees Eddie standing there. “Oh that’s what took you so long.” She narrows her eyes, looking between Eddie and you.

Uncomfortable by the situation Eddie excuses him self. “We’re still on for tomorrow right?” You ask before he walks out the front door.

“Wouldn’t miss it.” With that he’s gone, shutting the door behind him.

“Girl what the fuck was that?” She makes her way to your bedroom, you follow closely behind. Watching her as she sits on your bed. The bed where you just spent the last last hour being eaten out. You try to hard not to think about it. “Can’t believe you were to busy fucking Munson to let your best friend in.” She looks around your bedroom before terror strikes her, “In this bed too?” She shrieks getting up to move to the chair sat in the opposite corner.

You can’t help but laugh before apologizing, “Sorry we were—“

“Fucking.” She interrupts you.

You sigh excepting the fact that there’s no way to hide it, “Sort of.”

“Sort of? What does that mean?” She ask curiously, “and don’t spare any of the details please.”

“He was going down on me.” You admit. Figuring it was your turn to share the gory details of your sex life. Have been forced on multiple occasions to hear about Jason. The man you hated but knew if you tried to say anything it’d only push Chrissy away from you.

“Must be nice.” She says flatly, distracting herself by scrolling through her phone.

“Jason doesn’t go down on you?” You ask absolutely baffled.

“No he refuses.”

“Do you go down on him?” You ask and she nods yes, likes she’s to ashamed to say it out loud. “Girl what the fuck? Is there anything favorable about him?”

“Enough about me.” She laughs uncomfortably, “How is he in bed? How big is he?

Rolling your eyes annoyed you respond, “Amazing actually. He enjoys making me finish over and over again. Half the time I don’t even have to do anything which is shame because his uhh… is huge.”

“I didn’t think men like that actually existed.” She sighs.

“They’re out there. You’ve just been stuck on the same dick for years, expand you horizons Chrissy. Have you ever even had an orgasm?”

“Ya know they have a name for men like that?” She says completely disregarding your jab at Jason and the question you asked. Her lack of answer was your answer. “He’s a munch.”

“A munch?” You ask, you’ve never heard of it before.

“A man who gets off on performing oral. Doesn’t expect anything in return. Usually because he’s obsessed with the woman who’s receiving.” You laugh because that describes Eddie to a t.

“Sounds a bout right.” You smile.

“Instead of Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson we should start calling him Eddie ‘The Munch’ Munson.” Chrissy says erupting in laughter at her own joke causing you to roll your eyes for the hundredth time since Chrissy showed up.

You two spend the next few hours catching up on town gossip and updating each other on your lives. The conversation somehow always ending back on the topic of Eddie. You didn’t mind though, it was nice finally being able to talk to someone about him. It’s getting pretty late so Chrissy decides to go home not before letting you know she’d be having a talk with Jason about how things needed to change.

—

The entirety of you weekend was spent in bed with Eddie. Waking up next to him was something you could get used to. You two would stay up supper late fucking and sleep in till the later afternoon. Sometimes being woken up in the middle of the night because Eddie couldn’t contain him self. His favorite image was you laying in bed in nothing more than underwear and oversized t-shirt. It all came an end Sunday afternoon when your mom notified you they were on your way home. Sadly you two separated making plans for Monday night at his place.

You were so exhausted from the weekend you slept through your alarm Monday morning. Waking up near noon, your parents already gone for the day. You’ve never gotten ready so fast in your life. Only time to brush your teeth and your hair before running out the door. When you arrive to school it’s lunch time, “Better late than never I guess.” You mutter your self as the lady at the front desk checks you in. Walking out the office you make your way to your locker, throwing stuff from your backpack inside.

“Where have you been?” Chrissy says as she approaches you, wearing her cheer uniform.

“I over slept.”

“So you haven’t heard anything?”

“Heard what?” You groan not in the mood for any drama right now.

“Before I tell you what happened please tell me you’re not gonna be mad at me.”

“What did you do?” Your mind racing at what Chrissy could of possibly done, shutting you locker so you can face her.

“Promise me.”

“Fine I promise I won’t be mad at you.”

“So it’s kinda your fault because you got into my head. All the talk about how good Eddie is in bed made me upset that Jason is the way he is. So after I left yours I went straight to his house and ripped into him.” She hesitates to finish her story so you tell her to skip to the part that would piss you off. “Well he wasn’t taking me seriously and I know how much he dislikes Eddie. So I told him I heard from a friend that Eddie is so good in bed, the best she’s ever had. Always going down on her.” Your eyes widen in horror, “He immediately assumed I meant one of the girls on the cheer squad. He was so mad I would even compare him with Eddie. So he went around telling his friends what I said.”

“Chrissy why would you tell him all that?”

“I’m not done yet.” Guilt spreads across her face.

“Oh my fucking god. What else could you possibly add?”

“Now all the girls on the squad are talking about Eddie and gushing over him. Talking about how who should be the one to find out if the rumors are true. I’m so so so so so sorry.” You can’t come up with a response trying to wrap your mind around all the information she just dumped on you. Out of your peripheral you can see Eddie headed you way, he looks upset.

“Please keep walking,” You mutter to yourself. Chrissy notices Eddie and apologizes again before running of leaving you alone. As you try to follow her your stopped by someone grabbing your wrist. You turn to face Eddie smile plastered on your face praying that he has no idea. Considering this is the first time he’s publicly approached you he must know.

“Care to explain why I’ve got three different cheerleaders in my DMs and Sinclair telling me that everyone on the basketball team was talking about my performance in bed?”

“Huh! That’s crazy.” You laugh awkwardly as Eddie backs you into lockers.

“Considering your the only one at this school I’ve slept with and your best friend is Chrissy Cunningham. It all leads back to you.” You quickly decide that coming clean is your only option.

“I shared details with Chrissy as you do with your closest friends.” He nods watching you attentively as you explain. He’s so much taller then you so you have to look up when you speak to him. Which doesn’t help your nerves at all, fluttering your long lashes at Eddie in the hopes that it’s enough to get you out of this situation.

“And?” Your presenting innocent didn’t work.

“Apparently Jason doesn’t go down on her. So when I told her how much you enjoy it she called you a munch.”

“A munch?” He questions, you ignore it and continue the story.

“She told Jason that he she do it because you do it and she thought because of how much he dislikes you it would make him want to do it. It didn’t. It only made him mad and he told everyone on the basketball team which obviously got passed onto the cheer squad. Now they’re all thirsting after you.” You sigh finishing your rambles.

“Could be a worst rumor going around.” He laughs, allowing you to relax knowing he’s not too upset.

“Yeah and now you can have any cheerleader you want.” You laugh back trying to make a joke of the whole situation.

“I don’t want any cheerleader.” He rejects your joke.

“Who do you want?” You grin, hoping his answer aligns with your hopes.

“Who do you think?” He playfully jokes.

“I dunno.”

“You.” He says and lowering himself to your level, can’t help yourself from blushing at how forward he’s being in such a public setting. His hand finding your face before giving you a sweet short kiss soothing any anger you had toward Chrissy for opening her big mouth. Pulling away he asks, “So are you going to explain what a munch is?” Embarrassed your hands cover your face. “Nah uh you’re gonna tell me.”

“It’s basically a man who enjoys eating pussy without getting anything in return.” You spit it out fast as humanly possible, hands still covering your face.

“Guess that makes me a munch,” he laughs, pulling your hands away from your face.

“She called you Eddie ‘The Munch’ Munson.” You can’t believe your sharing any of this.

“That’s munch better than the original version.” Eddie jokes, laughing at his own joke. When you don’t laugh he ask, “Don’t you get it? Munch instead of much?”

“Yes I understand,” You laugh burying your head into his chest, cheeks red from embarrassment. His arms wrap around you, resting his head on yours before giving the top of your head a kiss.

[no-nameno-face]

Taken Care Of Audio (read story first)

TAKEN CARE OF (WITH AUDIO)

Pairing: Reader x Ellie Williams

Summary: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, minors do not interact. You will be blocked. Ellies had a long, hard day on patrol, and after stitching her up she requests some TLC. 

Warnings: Smut heavy, sub!reader, dom!ellie, face riding (E!receiving), oral (E!receiving), masturbation (R!), cum eating (kinda)? Praise kink, minor blood kink, pain kink, stitches, boob play (E!receiving), first time smut writing, did not proof read (but probably should have...)

Author's Notes: Soooo I've never written smut before, lmfao. I made the audio first, for my thirsty Ellie girls on tiktok but this audio got a bit… out of hand (wayyy too graphic) so I didn't want to post it on there. I had a whole scenario in mind with the audio so I figured I might as well write it down and share it here. I am also very obsessed with Ellie receiving so I subconsciously brought that to life while editing the audio. I know it's not great, but it was very fun to make and write soo.. Please be nice to me, I'm sensitive. Lol. (I put in the story when the audio clip applies, the story starts with context) I’d like to improve my writing cause this was a good time so any advice would be appreciated!!

I hear the door downstairs creak open and shut, a bit louder than normal. I can track the footsteps marching to the stairs and I listen with a small smile as the thuds make their way up. I hear soft profanities getting closer. Ellie is home. 

Sitting on our bed I turn my head right in time to see the door open, grinning at her as she walks in. She has that crease in her brow that I recognize as her tell-tell sign that she had a shit day. She shoots me a sly glance before looking away to take her flannel off leaving her in a white tank, dirty and disheveled she pulls it over her head. 

My eyes trace down her back, scarred and bruised. Muscular, and toned. Heart flutters, and a familiar heat builds. It's crazy how after all these years just seeing her still triggers these primal feelings. She just does something to me. She always has. My eyes stop wondering when I see a deep fresh cut following the curve of her hip. 

“Shit els? What happened” I get up and pace towards her keeping my eyes on the wound. 

She bends over pulling her shoes off, losing her balance a bit and mumbling a frustrated “fuck” under her breath. Now behind her, I prod at the gash and she swears again. I can feel her flinch. 

“I'll go get the stitches, sit down.” I say pulling her to the bed. She hits the bed with a thud and leans her elbows onto her knees.Shaking her head “it's not that bad babe, im fine.” She looks up at me and gives a half-hearted smile.

“I know you're fine,” I say, giving her a gentle look “I just don't want it to get infected, okay?” 

“Anything you say doc” she says with a smirk before turning to address the cut herself. She touches it lightly and winces when her fingers make contact. I head to the bathroom across the hall from our room and grab the small white kit from the medicine cabinet, and make my way back to our room. She's still sitting at the end of the bed, now rolling her neck side to side. 

I plop on the bed behind her, “okay, are you gonna tell me what happened now?” trying to distract her as I begin stitching the gash closed. Her back flexes and I hear her sharp intake of breath. Heart flutters. 

“Fucking stalkers. I hate those things” she says, shaking her head and looking up to the ceiling. “I was on patrol,”

“With Jesse right?”

“Don't remind me,” she says with a scoff that is cut off by another huff as I add a new stitch. Damn. Every breath in sync with the sutures releases a morbid butterfly into the pit of my stomach.  “Yeah, I was on patrol with jesse. We were checking out that one restaurant by the lodge, and I found an entrance to the attic. That place has been cleared out for like forever, so I went up on my own and got jumped by a stalker.” she shrugged her shoulders. “Fucking thing nailed me into an old piece of plywood. Piece of shit.” I tie her last stitch off, and give her a gentle pat to tell her she was finished. I got up and made my way to the bathroom to put the kit back.

I turned in the doorway on my way out, “Maybe you should’ve been more careful.” She swings her head at me with squinted eyes. I shrug and turn, heading to the bathroom “just saying!” 

“Fuck off” she calls back, I lightly laugh.

Back in the bedroom, she's lying on her stomach, head resting on her hands. “And then of course Jesse had to give me a fucking lecture about not going anywhere on my own, team communication! All that bullshit.” She turns onto her side propping herself up with one arm, “I’m just so fucking over it.” she looked absolutely exasperated. Oh how I love her dramatics. I sit facing her and her free hand falls to my hip. She looks at her hand, then up to me. Those green eyes, familiar and warm. Home. I smile at her. 

“That sucks. I'm sorry. I mean Jesse should know by now, there's no getting through that thick skull of yours. What's a lecture gonna do?” I smirk at her.

“Ouch.” she sneers at me, one brow up. She lets out a quiet laugh, and looks back down to her hand on my waist. “Thanks for stitching me up babe.”

“You know I don't mind.” I say casually. She smiles, an inside joke painting a picture on the walls of her thoughts. 

“So weird that you're into that.” she chuckles

“I'm not into that.. I just..” her eyes darted to mine. My heart pounded in my ears. She's right, but it was just so blunt. “There's just something about a strong woman who needs my help.” I say fawning innocent eyes, partially joking, but subconsciously egging her on. She sees right through me.  

She raises her eyebrows, taking her hand from my hip and pushing herself up so she's sitting opposite of me. She smiles, “so stupid.” her eyes drift down to my lips, then back to me. I feel red flush my cheeks. Her gaze darkens slightly, noticing. She tilts her head looking at me. “I mean it's okay that you are, i'm not kink shaming” Her hand meets my thigh, electric, and she gives me a sideways smile. I gape at her, trying to make light of the tension building between us.

“So you like taking care of strong women? Yeah?” she says quietly with a smile in her voice as her eyes trace down my body to her hand. Her thumb started circling the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. “Funny, you're normally the one that begs to be'' she looks up at me teasingly “taken care of.” Fuck. I feel heat pool in my belly. My knees squeeze together by their own volition. She feels it and her teasing gaze turns to something else as her eyes shift to them. She bites her lip subtly. This woman. 

Her hand moves to the button of her pants, “well i did have a hard day,” she undoes it and glances at me with an evil smile. “And since you enjoy taking care of strong women” she pulled on her zipper. “Mind doing me a favor?”

Jesus Christ.

“What do you have in mind?” I say, wide eyed. I try to sound cool but my voice comes out hungry. Starved. I watch the switch flip in Ellie's eyes at my words. 

“Take your shirt off.” she demanded with raised brows, and before I could think I was pulling her baggy shirt I was lounging in over my head. I'm left sitting there topless, with nothing but my black underwear on. She rolled famished eyes over my bare skin for what seemed like an eternity. Her eyes settled back on mine. I fidgeted my hands in my lap, feeling suddenly too vulnerable. She leans in slowly without breaking eye contact and my breath catches. Inches from me she whispers “Take off my pants.” 

Immediately I am in her service, at her beck and call. She knows all she has to do is ask. I'll do anything for her. She leans back onto her hands and lifts her hips slightly as I peel her jeans down the soft, yet lean, curves of her hips. Down her thighs, over her knees, and then calves, my eyes tracing every line of her legs. I toss them on the floor, and look back up to her awaiting further instruction. Her eyes are smiling with a dark inflection. 

“Lay down.” I looked at her confused, thinking I was the one taking care of her. Her tone was not a question however, so I obliged. I centered myself on the bed and pulled the nearest pillow under my head, keeping my eyes on her as she stood up and took her white boxers off. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of her. Pretty, untamed. My knees squeeze, I don't try to hide it. She looks at them, and scans back up to my eyes. She stares into me as she walks around the bed to my side. I bite at my nail anxiously. 

“I want you to take care of me, make me feel good m’kay? Can you do that for me?” she asks with a small smile. I nod.

She looks over me once again (START OF AUDIO) “fuck, you look so pretty.” She climbs onto the bed, looking at me like prey to a predator. “Be a good girl for me” she whispers, as she swings one of her legs over my head. Shit, I get it now. Her pussy meets my lips and she lets out a soft “fuck” at my eager mouth. My arms wrap around her thighs, hands gripping soft flesh. She starts to move, pleasuring herself on my tongue. She moans softly, “needed this” she says desperately as her eyes drift close and her head drifts to the ceiling. Her taste envelopes me, her wetness growing by the second with the addition of my saliva wetting her folds. 

“Okay,” she moans, picking up her pace, grinding against my face. She looks down at me, before her eyes dart shut “There!”  I feel her body pulse at the peak of her thrusts and I know she's found her spot. Her bud flicking roughly over my tongue. “Oh shit.. There. There we go” she continues at her pace for a moment. Her pulsing getting stronger. Her eyes snap open and peer at me “Jesus, you feel so good.” she says as her head rolls back and her eyes closed again. She continues her rhythm as I pull my arm from under her leg and skim my hand up her body “okay” she says lost in the sensation. My palm cups her right breast and I squeeze impatiently, then rub a loving thumb over her nipple, circling it. “Damn… yeah” she sighs then her hand meets mine and squeezes the sensitive flesh with me “Baby just like that.” she bites her lip with a whispered “fuck” as she rides my face. 

Her moans and the graphic sound of her wetness fill the room. I reach my other hand down into my underwear and begin circling my own clit firmly, unable to avoid the tension building within my own body. “Fuck me.” she whines into the air, before looking down to me with adoring eyes, “that's my good girl.” her eyes tighten, “lets go” she whispers as she begins to grind harder and faster into my mouth. “Come on.” My hand on my core meets her pace. “Good. There. Okay. There we go” I love how she talks mindlessly when we fuck. Her voice is enough to bring me closer to my own apex. I begin moaning beneath her, unable to contain my own pleasure. She looks down at me “shhhh shh shh shh” she hushes as she pulls my hand from my aching clit before I can reach my undoing. I whimper in disappointment as she pulls my arm from beneath her leg and takes my other one from her chest before pinning them above my head in her strong hands, deepening her weight into my face. “Shut up” she corrects. 

Her rhythm continues and I can tell the new pressure she's added is building her quickly. “God damn.” she says as her eyes squeeze shut. “Okay” That same wrinkle between her eyes deepens again, this time out of pleasure. She rides harder pushing the back of my head further into the pillow. Her moans grow louder, more animalistic. her hands on my wrists tighten to the point that I am sure that there will be a mark. “Holy fuck” she gasps. She pushes hard against me and I can feel the pulse intensify, her sounds grow and grow until suddenly her hands let go of my wrists and bury deep into my hair, pushing me even further into her just at the right time when her head falls back in quiet breathy moans, she rides out her high on my mouth. Her legs shaking and clit pounding as I suck against it,  encouraging her. Tasting her. Worshiping her. She lets out a whimpering breath at the end of her climax and looks down at me beneath her. “Oh my god babe.” She slowly lifts off of my face and I see her flinch slightly at the air touching her sensitivity. She takes a breath before looking at me with a lazy smile.

 “All right. Your turn.”

[celestiaras]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ making a run for it ]❜

ft. mysta rias, ike eveland, vox akuma, shu yamino, luca kaneshiro (separate) x gn! reader  — luxiem, nijisanji en

╰₊✧ how difficult is it to escape from them?┊3k words

contains: yandere!! obsessive & possessive behavior, kidnapping & isolation, chains, mention of death, delusions, forced physical affection, overuse of the word “love”, overprotectiveness, probably inaccurate vox lore, possibly ooc, not proofread or beta-read, this is a train wreak of sewn together thoughts

➤ author's note: the image quality is so bad ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ i don’t watch luxiem that much and don’t really write for them as a result, but that should change because they are cuties

you lost track long ago of how many days it’s been since you’ve been captured, morning and night blurring together since your enclosure had no windows— it must have been nearly a year since you remember him saying something about your first anniversary coming up. the cold metal cuff around your ankle was just as heavy as when it was first fastened, the chain just long enough for you to reach the corners of the room and the bathroom while being fastened to the leg of his bed. you had every inch of it memorized and explored: the books were worn from being read so many times, the area was spotless without a speck of dust because you kept cleaning the place up, and the most excitement you ever got was from another movie getting added to the streaming service on the television since he didn’t let you have any access to the internet.

just like a bird in a cage, you’ve been locked away and isolated for only your captor’s eyes at night when he comes home from his daily activities. you no longer had any other purpose in the world than to be his to adore and admire, to spoil with material gifts that couldn’t fill the empty hole in your heart, and to be the object of his delusions that you feel the same. the thought of remaining here for the rest of your life as his ‘lover” made you shudder and feel sick to your stomach, a thought that you simply couldn’t get used to even though all hope seemed to be lost. you missed your family and friends dearly, already beginning to forget their faces and the sound of their laughter to your horror. you had to escape somehow no matter what the cost may be, preferably alive and fully intact, but you had no idea if their love for you would be greater than their rage when they found you missing.

━━━ .°˖✧ mysta rias ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ once you had a general idea of what you do, you were a bit hesitant to put it in motion since you didn’t have the specifics in mind and terrified that it would all go wrong with how flimsy it was, but you would never be able to leave if you didn’t take courage. however, if you knew that it would have been so easy and that everything went exactly as you planned, you would have done it ages ago. you couldn’t describe the euphoria you felt when the warm rays of the sun kissed your skin and the gentle breeze welcomed you to the outdoors, practically skipping off to make your long-awaited escape. truly, you were a fool to think it would have been so simple when you were up against a genius detective.

╰₊✧ maybe mysta let you run away on purpose just so that he could drag you back for the fun of it, would you believe it? running away was the easy bit, the real challenge is staying away. despite his laid-back and careless attitude, he’s quite the sadist who loves the image of happiness draining from your eyes and being re-filled with sheer terror when he finds you in the next country over. you’ll be completely helpless against him as he drags to back to his home, tearing you apart from new loved ones just as he did before. it’s so easy for him to destroy all the optimism of being free and sinking back into the despair of being his. it doesn’t matter how much you try to cover your tracks, how far you run, how much you alter your appearance with an identity change, he’ll track you down because the red string of fate always brings him back to you.

you can’t help but feel cold when he holds you, useless as the feeling of desolation rendered you unable to fight against him. you just let yourself be limp and wallow in how pathetic you are, trying to muffle your cries against his shoulder even though you soaked the orange fabric. he didn’t even bother saying any words of comfort and just patted your head your head with his gloved hands, but you both knew that it was an empty gesture that wouldn’t console you in the slightest. there was nothing he could due to make you feel better when he’s the source of all of your woes, so he doesn’t really bother with it.

for any normal person, the tears of their partner would shatter their heart to pieces, especially if they were the reason for it. they would apologize, buy gifts, and do anything they could to show their remorse because they love them. mysta loves you too, he loves you so much, but he loved your misery even more. there’s nothing that he enjoys more than your teary eyes like little crystals brimming over and the cute little sobs you would let out while trying to hide how much he influenced your emotions. he’s sick, so sick, but there’s nothing that could cure him, not even attempts to snap him out of his cruel ways and make him love you in a healthy manner.

━━━ .°˖✧ ike eveland ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ a man with intelligence, but no remarkable prowess to stop you from leaving. he doesn’t have extraordinary deduction skills like mysta, magic like shu, an influence like luca, or inhuman powers like vox, but he has his own charms that work in his favor and keep you by his side. he’s just so… sweet and gentle. you can feel his love radiating in his actions and his words, almost making you forget about the fact you were being held captive entirely. his kindness is the main hurdle, making guilt pool in your stomach because you feel like you were betraying his kindness when he took care of you and treated you like a queen.

╰₊✧ you thoroughly believe that you would have fallen in love with him properly if given the time to do so, but unfortunately, he turned out to be batshit crazy and no amount of bonding is enough to make you completely forget that. once your resolve is solidified that it wasn’t love he felt for you but was instead pure unaltered obsession, putting your plot into action feels more possible. it’s more difficult than escaping from the detective who purposely let you go, but if you manage to outsmart the novelist, you’ll finally find yourself free.

he whistles as he walks down the corridor, holding a silver tray in his hands that has a glass of strawberry lemonade and two decadent slices of cake in your favorite flavor. there’s nothing like spending time with the one he loves the most and a sweet treat in the mid-afternoon, a little pep in his step to show just how excited he is for this routine that occurs about twice a week. in his satchel, he holds a few novels that he thinks you would enjoy and will be asking for your thoughts about the previous books he gave you as he always does. everything was perfect from the weather to his mood to your love life, he doesn’t think anything would be able to ruin it.

at least he thought there wasn’t anything that could ruin it, unable to explain how far his heart dropped when he couldn’t find you anywhere. he ran about the manor in a frenzy, thoroughly searching through every room and crevice while calling out your name. rushing back to your shared bedchamber to properly examine the scene of the crime where he last saw you, he realized that the chain had been broken somehow. he felt dizzy and ill, falling into an armchair and throwing his head back to try and make the world stop spinning.

he couldn’t believe this was happening after everything was going so well! did he do something wrong? did he upset you or offend you in some way? he racks his brain for anything he might have said or done for you to leave him, so deep in his delusions of true love that he doesn’t even consider the fact that kidnapping you and holding you against your will for about a year would have anyone running for the hills. maybe you would come back on your own, finding it in your heart to forgive him and return to be his again? who is he kidding, you’ll never come back unless he looks for you himself! he’ll go and give you flowers and chocolates, and if you still reject him, he’ll simply persist until you remember how much you love him! he’ll follow you to the ends of the earth to remind you of your relationship with him because the two of you were always meant to be together!

━━━ .°˖✧ shu yamino ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ similar to ike, shu is a very smart and clever person, but unlike the novelist, he has quite a few tricks up his sleeve. for instance, his home is laced with so many traps that are installed by his magic, like a temple straight out of indiana jones to protect his treasure. of course, he is the only one who can enter and exit as he pleases— the protection spell isn’t just there to keep you in, it’s also there to keep anyone who may be looking for you out. once he detects that someone is in his property, a simple snap of his fingers teleports you somewhere else until they leave. sometimes you find yourself in an abandoned city or the middle of a grassy field without warning, terrified but unable to find help no matter how far you try to run. wherever you are, he always knows the exact location and can summon you back just as easily as he banished you.

╰₊✧ he acts as though nothing happened, chatting just like he did before you found out his true colors. you can hardly even tell that he has such a manic love for you, remaining awkward as ever while referencing memes that you’ll never understand since you don’t have any interaction with the outside world. he isn’t half as delusional as the other boys, knowing that his affection for you is completely unrequited and will never be reciprocated, yet he still did it anyway because he just couldn’t help himself. you don’t understand this enigma of a man in the least bit, shrugging his shoulders like he didn’t completely alter the course of your life and give you lasting trauma, but at least he doesn’t force affection on you… which is the bare minimum and you are still set on leaving.

the creaking of the door was enough to make you panic a bit, filling the disturbingly quiet house. you weren’t quite sure where shu was, but if he wasn’t with you, then he wasn’t here at all. this was the first time you had left the room and the first time you were exploring the house since you were unconscious when he brought you in. it looked standard, like your average, run-of-the-mill home that you would see in television shows, and impossible to guess that there was a prisoner inside. as a result, it was pretty easy to navigate the place and you found what you thought was the exit within minutes. you found a set of keys hidden in a living room drawer and decided to test them out in the front door, not knowing of the traps and naively thinking it would be simple.

unable to contain your excitement, you prepared to inset the first one into the knob, but before it even touched it, the sound of alarms like a thousand cymbals blaring through your ears and making you drop everything from the surprise. you had no idea where the noise was coming from nor did you know how to stop it, quickly dawning on you that you fucked up. running towards a nearby window, you attempted to push it up to climb out of it, but it only seemed to make the sound louder. when you saw a neighbor walking by with a dog, you tried banging on the glass to grab their attention, but it was like you were a ghost and they continued on with their day not knowing they were being begged for help. clearly, his magic was surrounding and you were too stupid to remember that, seeing flames of purple beginning to form near you and signifying that he was home to see what the commotion was about. you can only hope that he won’t be too upset with you.

━━━ .°˖✧ vox akuma ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ how unlucky are you to be the object of the great voice demon’s affections! he rarely ever lets you out of his sight as being a demon in the modern era means that he too must stay hidden from the public eye. it’s suffocating being under his observant eye, something as much as blinking doesn’t go under his radar. since he isn’t human, his senses are heightened with him being to hear so much as a floorboard creaking or smell the blood of you getting a paper-cut from a different room, leading him to be able to just sense your presence no matter where you are since you’re never far from him anyways. you don’t quite understand it, but what you do understand is that it makes escape much more difficult.

╰₊✧ he’s just so overprotective of you and you get it, having heard the story of his clan and how he lost them when they were all so dear to him, but it’s no excuse for his extremely possessive behavior. you can’t even remember the last time you’ve been outside and touched grass that wasn’t in his garden. he’s always by your side and never leaves unless you need to use the restroom or something, like a guard dog that doesn’t understand boundaries, yet even dogs could be forgiven for not knowing any better. the only time you don’t feel watched is when he’s asleep, with an arm thrown around you, but unconscious nonetheless.

you were more aware of every shift of his body and every breath he took than you would be if he was really your lover, unable to get a second of rest when being coddled like this. you feared that if you squirmed at all, he would automatically tighten his grip around you, but was pleasantly surprised when you were able to wiggle free. hearing him grunt made your heart stop, but he stayed asleep until you tried to get off the bed and stepped on the ground. hearing him ask where you were going made you sweat bullets, but you just said you were off to get a glass of water.

unfortunately, he decided to get up himself to go get it for you, leaving you sitting on the Alaskan king-sized mattress thinking about your fate. you doubt that you’ll ever get away from him, he’ll just track you down and bring you back. the world is massive, but so is he and you won’t make it very far. you can’t hide from a demon, not for long enough to sigh in relief anyway. if walking on wood with bare feet was enough to wake him from his slumber, hearing you open a door or window would be enough to have him running.

━━━ .°˖✧ luca kaneshiro ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ your prison is a palace dusted with gold, you’re served the finest food on silver platters, you’re decorated with jewels that are worth millions, but the splendor isn’t enough to distract you from the fact that you’re a prisoner. normally, you could only dream of living in a place like this where you’re doted on by a lover and spoiled rotten with whatever you want, yet you would do anything to trade this life for the people he had his men wipe off the face of the earth to have you to himself. it can’t be a paradise when you know it’s stained with the blood drawn by a mafia family.

╰₊✧ escape is next to impossible, as expected of the kaneshiro family. hidden cameras watch your every step and guards are lined up in every hallway to make sure that no one aside from their masters gets in or out, armed with weapons that they wouldn’t hesitate to use if necessary. even if they have strict orders not to use them against you for any reason, they are still allowed to use physical force to bring you back and any injuries will be regarded as collateral damage.

your legs dragged across the polished marble floors of the hall since you refused to walk back to your room, carried by two burly men in suits who caught you trying to run away for the -nth time. just like all previous attempts, you were caught within five minutes, which is an improvement to last time yet still not even close to enough to reach the pearly gates of freedom. knowing that you’ll need more then double of that to get out is disheartening, but everyone knows that you’re going to try again. you’ve learned that it really doesn’t cost anything to make a run for it, they don’t even punish you for it since luca loves you too much for that so they just throw you back on the bed before leaving.

there are a few bruises from their rough handling, but nothing too serious. you’d be willing to walk out of there with a broken arm if needed, you just wanted to go home and see the remaining few who weren’t picked off by the mafia again. later that day, you’ll be gifted with new dresses and shoes that shimmer in the light of the grand chandelier of your room to try and convince you to stay, however, there isn’t any use for such items if others couldn’t see it as well. if you keep trying, you’ll make it a little further as you learn from your mistakes, maybe even one of his men will feel pity for you or get sick of your antics and just let you go. you’ll only know if you keep trying.

[mayearies]

… ꒰ঌ ໒꒱

❛ WUSYANAME ❜

miles morales

˚ʚ property of ©hiimayee ɞ˚

alt title: none! genre: fluff | warnings: characterized reader, mention of gwen (like twice) authors input: i like giving up sometimes

summary: miles meets someone new and starts obsessing over them ♬ song: WUSYANAME by tyler, the creator . nba youngboy . ty dolla $ign

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ next ->

e1610 miles had never been in a relationship before. but he wanted to be in one. he honestly was interested in someone not in his orbit, and he didn’t expect that to change. well, not change so soon.

—miles’ school attendance wasn’t the best because of the whole double life he was living. hell, when he did go to school he didn’t pay attention that much. that’s how his grades stayed relatively average. he knew he could get them back up later.

today was a busy day, though. right before school started, something happened down the street which called for spiderman’s attention a little longer than it should’ve. now he was late. trying to duck and dodge people in the hallways so he could make the bell. but that didn’t work out either. maybe for the better?

“hey, you good?”

he bumped into you and stumbled a bit. like, head first into your shoulder. he groaned a little, but he’s felt worse. “yeah, i’m good sor-“

now that he could actually process what he was looking at, you were pretty. really pretty. ‘gorgeous’ he would say—in his head. not gonna lie, he felt a little intimidated by you. your two-toned, shiny lips, your chocolate skin, and how good you looked in your uniform. a lot to take in, yeah?

“you seem a little frozen, you sure you’re okay?”

oh, and he already forgot what you sounded like. your voice sounded sweet, as sweet as honey. call him down bad but you could tell him to do whatever and he would do it. he didn’t even feel this way about gwen.

you snapped your fingers in his face, he looked petty spaced out. he was looking at your eyes, though. “hello??”

“oh- what? sorry, sorry. i didn’t mean to do that.” “no, it’s okay. but you’re sure you’re fine?” “more or less. this happens all the time.”

that was an exaggeration. he would just turn invisible sometimes and crawl on walls to get by. but it was cute how awkward he was being. at least you found it to be. he didn’t realize he had been so lost that both of you had missed the bell. but it’s not like it was the top of either of your minds right now. you hadn’t seen him before, but you were interested.

“i haven’t seen you before. are you new?” “no? i’ve been here since freshman year.”

okay, well thank god he didn’t skip school today or he might not have met you. as maybe he was more absent than he would like to believe. he wanted to talk to you some more, but the hall monitor’s yelling disrupted that.

“well, i guess we both gotta go. it was nice meeting you.” “yeah, it was. wait, uh-“

˚ʚ WUSYANAME, girlfriend-

“what’s your name?”

©hiimayee masterlist <- <-

[trulyumai]

Oh, Mr. Mosses (Series!) IV

Synopsis: You were fine with the job, the steps were easy enough but the secret  of the D.D.D was getting harder and harder to contain. Each night a new entity would enter the building, each with its own horrific look and intentions. Just as you debate on leaving, a new resident has entered the premises; Francis Mosses who is absolutely entranced by your being. Now, his Mimic has taken a liking to you too.

Will you be as smitten of them as they are of you? Only time will tell.

Author Note: Thank you everyone for enjoying the story, its honestly so fun to write I wish i could update even quicker! If it wasn't for uni i most likely would be. Hope you enjoy the new chapter!

Warnings: Blood, Obsessive behavior, Stalking, Talk about Death

Also available on AO3!

Taglist: @tfamidoingwithmylife @mariaflor873 @fandomfeind @greycloudsy @skully-skeleton-bone0106 @im-here-for-the-fun-of-it @the-tiger-lover78 (Let me know if you want to be added!)

Oh, Mr. Mosses IV

She felt awful, guilt struck through her bones like a heavy fog. The rain hadn’t stopped since the night before, the weather matched her dreary mood and she couldn't help but wither away in bed for most of the day, staring blankly at the popcorn-like ceiling. It would be her fault if someone were to die. She let him in, purposefully let the man walk in without a second thought or action. Frustrated, she grabbed the pillow beside her, throwing it across the room with a defeated huff. 

Her shift started tomorrow night, 5:00 on the dot. Grabbing the sides of her head she glanced toward the window, gray skies filled her vision before she threw herself back onto the duvet.

She saw him when she closed her eyes. That egotistical grin, those sharp teeth- the hands, how they planted themselves around her face like they belonged there. 

That day she uttered nothing to management, passed her employee with only a glance and hadn't been down since the incident. Had she even eaten? She couldn't remember, only lingering tastes of the metallic blood entered her taste buds, as if that monster's finger was still being forced down her throat. 

Holding back a gag she reached toward her nightstand, pulling out a pink and white pill case. Squinting at it she found two clear sleeping pills. 

“This should do the trick,” she mumbled, carelessly popping them in her mouth before hastily reaching for a bottle of water by her bedside. There was no way she could sleep on her own, at least not for tonight 

  ───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Pillows were kicked and strewn about the floor, blankets were haphazardly beside her and hanging limply on the mattress. She didn't seem to notice the mess, with her arms by her sides and hair splayed out on the pillow, she snored lightly, blocking out the rain that beated across her window, blocking out the man who stood just above her side of the bed. Wide, black eyes stared down at her. Unblinking they shuffled closer, stepping over a pair of pink slippers thrown haphazardly on the floor. His grin took over most of his face, sharp teeth on display with red stains on his lips. He'd been busy since his arrival, picking apart her neighbor while she slept so soundly. So heavenly. He groaned, letting his blood covered fingers linger on her neck, before descending up towards her face. Pressing his fingers harder until little red dots were smudged across her cheeks. Mr. Capriannis’s blood. 

Cackling quietly to himself he bent down, just so his nose grazed hers. Lightly his warm breath dusted across her face, and even in her sleep she moved away from the man, groaning lightly as she turned her head to face the window. 

“I'll see you tonight, pretty girl,” if he wasn't so hungry, he would have decided to stay, maybe try to get in a few more touches. A few bites. But his urge to kill was getting overwhelming, he had to grind his teeth to stay focused. Light drops of blood began to seep from his mouth, his teeth had seemed to jabbed his lips from the harsh movements and it dribbled down, falling onto the unconscious girl below. The liquid plopped down on her neck, where it smeared and marked the area with its contrasting color. Deciding to leave it there he laughed once more. 

Maybe he’ll pay another neighbor a visit. 

  ───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Francis slept terribly. This weather was downright awful, made his life a complete hell and who orders milk on days like this? Mumbling to himself he looked for his hat, it wasn't on its usual hook by the door, which he thought was quite strange. 

Sure, he came home later than usual, his bike route hindered by the many puddles in his path, but he always managed to stay tidy, stay neat. He looked everywhere! The hook, the closet, his bed, the little bathroom and even his poor excuse of a kitchen. It was completely gone and out of sight. Starting to panic he brushed his hair back with one hand, letting it linger while he tried to backtrack. Getting in the prior night he noticed the receptionist was off  of work already, he sighed at the other co worker before delving into the elevator. He knew he had his hat with him, and remembered bunching it up in worry over the little pretty receptionist. 

Frustrated enough, he grabbed his dress shoes. He supposed he would have to look once more after his route. 

  ───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

“There you are 29! Right on time, listen, the boss wants a double shift on schedule, I know it's a little sudden but who are we to say no, right?” The other coworker smiled, it was big, a fake facade made to comfort the already exhausted girl. 

She stood there, arms bunched at her sides as she picked at the sweater littering around her hands. 

“Yeah, I got the message about that this morning.” 

Walking past she slid her ID down the door, checking in for another shift. Waving at the fleeting man she closed the door, rubbing her hands after. It was obvious she was nervous, the backroom didn't feel safe anymore with that thing wandering around. Just before she clocked in she had scanned the building, looking, waiting to see if she saw anything out of the ordinary. 

She didn't. 

Saw nothing, heard nothing. The only thing she noticed was this god awful smell coming from the second floor. Mr. Capriannis must be attempting to make fish again. 

She decided to make a coffee and settle her nerves. Walking quickly she grabbed her favorite mug; a green ceramic cup with frogs all over the handle. 

It was then she noticed she didn't feel quite alone. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, she felt heavy and sweaty, and she could have sworn she kept seeing shadows move from the corner of her eyes. Tapping her fingers against her now filled mug she walked carefully to the desk, where the newly laid schedule stared back at her. 

Only Two people left to check in tonight 

She missed Francis.

  ───────── ౨ৎ ───────── 

Reading through the forms she was sure to check it over at least three times each. Writing down the numbers just in case to ensure everyone's safety. 

Robertsky Peachman 114652289730 Checked in 7:23

-

Dr. W. Afton 250489656214 Checked in 7:45

-

Calling both lines, they were indeed not at the residency, so without pause she handled them separately, allowing them one at a time to step into the premise. 

Before Mr. Peachman left however, he eyed the woman as he bundled up his forms. 

“Oh my, what happened!” He exclaimed, pointing to the column of his throat.

“Your neck, dear, it's bleeding!” Reaching up she touched the base of her throat, her hands met a dry, patchy blotch along her skin. Removing her fingers, she realized he was right; dried blood laid on the tip of her index. 

Throat dry she attempted to lick her lips, thinking about what she did this morning to protrude such an injury.

“Here, here, use my napkin, it looks to be dried over,” With a helping hand he laid his handkerchief through the slot, giving the woman a smile. 

“I- thank you, Mr. Peachman. I don't even remember getting this,” Scratching it against the soft fiber it came off, however something looked… different. 

The blood was thick, almost a reddish black against the cotton. 

“You can keep it, just in case it reopens, I'll see you tomorrow evening little lady!”

With a toothy smile he was off, already pushing the third button on the elevator. 

Yawning, the receptionist began to organize the files around her; everything laid strewn about with her double and triple checking everyone’s forms. 

Knock. 

Knock. 

Knock. 

Halting her movements she tore her eyes away from the cabinet, to the window across. 

It was the employee, the one who had the shift right before her. His eyes were wide, full of anger and his movements were quick. He banged his fist beside the glass, letting out ragged, desperate breaths. 

“What the fuck, 29?!” 

Standing up she shuffled back, grazing her shoulders on the cabinets behind her. 

“I know what you did, you dumb bitch! I saw the footage!”

“28, Please I- I didn't know! I was just trying to-”

He banged his fist once more, “Im calling the D.D.D, They’ll dispose of both of your fucking asses!” Gripping the ID dangling from his neck he ripped it off, walking towards the door that separated them both. 

With quick and desperate movements she ran to the door, pushing the chain lock just across the wood  to halt the man. 

It slammed against the metal, she could see part of him through the slit left open. 

“Let me in! Don't mess this up 29, people will die!”“So I should just let you expose me? So can I be another body thrown in a bag?!” Beating harshly on the door she could see the chain was weakening. One more strong shove and he'd be through. And then what? She’d not only be out of a job, but a place to stay, and who knows if they would let her live after the mistake she made?

That's when she heard it, the slow, dramatic clapping of someone's hands. 

Craning her neck back as best as she could while still maintaining a grip on the door, she gasped audibly. 

There he was; the cause of all her problems. The milkman in disguise. 

“This has been quite entertaining sweetheart, but how much longer are you gonna keep this man around, huh?” Tilting his head to the side he let out a breath of air. 

“I could take care of him, you know. Save you the trouble,” Squinting his eyes he picked at his teeth, the sharp nails dug out chunks of flesh he flicked to the side. 

“No!” She seethed. 

“No one has to die.” Pushing her back against the door once more, she used as much strength she could possibly gather. 

“Aw,” He teased, shaking his head side to side, dragging his dried bloody finger on the wall. 

“You actually believe that, don't you sweet thing?”

Sweat began to build up on her forehead, running down in clear, sticky beads. 

She was going to die. If not by the thing in front of her, then the man busting through the door she was trying so hard to guard. 

Would it be so bad if she had his help? 

What on earth was she saying?! Of course it would be! 

The mimic stepped closer, just until his feet were planted in front of hers, looking straight down at her worried filled orbs. 

“Let me kill for you,” he begged.

Bending his knees he put his hands together, in a praying-like stance. 

“Please, let me help you.”

His eyes were warm somehow, his pupils seemed to be dilated, staring right up at the desperate woman. 

Feeling not only weak from holding the door, but to have this… creature beg to help her, she softened her hold. 

“Okay,” She whispered, staring right back at him as he slowly leaned his arm forward to grab her jaw.

He looked ecstatic, truly happy with her answer and- mesmerized? 

“Don't you worry bout a thing pretty girl,  I'll handle big bad 28 for you,”

Leaning closer once more, he let his face get merely inches from hers. The smell of iron hit her, it wafted across her face contaminating each breath she let in. 

“But you'll owe me one, got it?”

Dumbly nodding her head she relaxed her eyes, she was feeling awfully tired from everything. A wave of exhaustion hit her bones, numbing her mind as her vision began to blur. 

Before the darkness spread over her eyelids she thought of one thing.

A tired raven haired man with his little smile.

[masterofmunson]

promises, promises (2)

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend, Eddie Munson, accuses you of cheating on him due to your strange behavior. If only you could tell him you were hunting interdimensional monsters instead.

Word Count: 5.7k+ 

Warnings: language, drugs and alcohol mentioned, SMUT (18+, minors dni i’m serious), unprotected sex, oral (fem), p in v sex, fingering

Author’s Note: Here’s this monster of a part two! Again, thank you so much for all the love on the story so far. Please let me know what you think and please comment/reblog/send asks on content you read!

You wake up to the harsh sound of your doorbell ringing the next morning. Your parents must not be home to answer the door. You groan loudly and kick your comforter off your legs.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” you shouted as you ran downstairs. You unlock the front door quickly and tear it open. You glare at the two teens standing at your doorstep. “What the hell guys?! Why are you ringing my doorbell like a maniac on a Saturday morning?”

Dustin and Max push past you and enter the foyer of your home. Both their eyes are wide with concern and Dustin begins to pace the length of the hallway. “Did you go see Eddie last night after dinner?” he asked, picking at his nails.

You shake your head. “No, why?”

The two teens share a tense look before Dustin walks further into your home. He squats down in front of the TV and turns it on. He flicks through the channels before it settles on Channel 9 News. The voice of Beverley Moss fills the family room. You watch with rapt intensity, your gaze focused on the background of the screen.

You notice Eddie’s trailer behind the reporter. You’ve been there more times than you could count. If you and Eddie weren’t going on dates or driving around in his van, you were at the trailer. Police move in and out of his home and sirens flash off screen.

Blood rushes to your head as you listen and watch the screen. A student was found dead in Eddie’s trailer. No other details are being released at this time. You feel like puking. Eddie would never hurt anyone. He talks a big game in order to keep from getting hurt. It was why he wore Eddie “The Freak” Munson as a badge of honor, but you know him.

You know Eddie better than he knows himself.  You know that his dad leaving and mom dying scarred him in ways you don’t understand. You know that despite the amazing relationship he has with his uncle, he fears Wayne will leave too. He’s insecure and hides behind his long, unruly hair and heavy metal music.

It’s why, upon further reflection, that you’re not surprised Eddie thought you were cheating on him. When you first started dating last summer it took a lot for Eddie to open up to you. You just graduated and were nannying full-time when you ran into Eddie at the local bookstore. He caught you browsing the Dungeons and Dragons display.

“I didn’t know the star soccer player of Hawkins High enjoyed the Devil’s Game,” he smirked, standing alongside you. You nearly jumped out of your skin and knocked a number of boxes over as a result.

You turned and glared at Eddie, clutching your chest. “Jesus Christ, Eddie!” you hissed. “You scared me. You can’t just come up to people like that! What if I hit you?”

He grinned, squatting down and helping you pick up the boxes you knocked over. “Sorry,” he laughed, fixing the boxes on the display before turning to you. “I saw you staring at the display for the last five minutes and came over to help. You look lost and as the Dungeon Master of Hellfire Club, it’s my duty and solum oath to guide those new on their D&D journeys.”

You laughed softly and tugged a loose strand of hair that had fallen out of your ponytail behind your ear. “I regret to inform you that I’m not looking for me. The girl I nanny is obsessed and her birthday is coming up. She’s been asking for more supplemental materials and I don’t know what I’m supposed to get,” you sighed, staring at the large display. “I should’ve brought her brother with me, but he can’t keep secrets.”

Eddie clapped his hands together before pointing out everything you should buy. In the end, you bought a set of new character sheets, dice, and an updated handbook on all the rules and procedures as of June 1985. You thanked him profusely as he walked with you to your car.

You always thought Eddie was attractive. Robin and Steve teased you for it, but they never made fun of you. You enjoyed his loud, theatrical rants during lunch period even if his rants targeted any of the groups you belonged to while you were in high school. Now, all of that was behind you. Your social reputation won’t suffer if you’re kind to Eddie Munson on a random Friday in a local parking lot.

“You’re not what I thought you’d be, Munson,” you teased lightly, leaning against the hood of your car. A bright smile and soft laugh cover your face.

Eddie gasps playfully and hides behind his hair. “What? Mean and scary?” he teased as you nodded in replied. “Who me? Never! I honestly didn’t think you knew who I was,” he said, twirling a strand of his hair between his ring-clad fingers.

“Eddie, c’mon,” you laughed shaking your head at him. “Just because we were in different social circles in high school doesn’t mean I didn’t know who you were. We’ve had several classes together since I was in 7th grade. We were paired together for Ms. Braun’s theater and arts project, remember?”

“How could I forget?! We aced it because of you!”

You rolled your eyes then and shake your head again. A beat of silence falls between the two of you and Eddie rocks back on his shoes. “Even though you were a jock, you were always nice to me, even when I probably didn’t deserve it. I thank you for that,” he murmured quietly with tinted cheeks. You grinned at his sudden shyness.

“Everyone deserves kindness, Eddie,” you replied with equal softness, “even the self-proclaimed freak of Hawkins High.”

You saw Eddie several times after that and always made sure to say hi. It wasn’t until after Starcourt that Eddie built up enough courage to ask you out on a date which you happily (and eagerly) accepted. You had to remind him that none of what happened in high school (while you were there) mattered to you anymore. Over time, Eddie was able to accept your warmth and affections without doubt pressing into his mind.

Eddie’s soft and gentle. Eddie is the epitome of warmth. He’s a perfect summer day: a light breeze with the bright sun shining down with no clouds in the sky. He always asks before he kisses you and takes every excuse to hold your hand. Eddie is the perfect gentleman. He would never hurt anyone. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. You felt like fainting.

Dustin and Max grab you by the arms and carefully set you down on the sofa as you stare mindlessly at the TV. “I don’t…. I don’t understand,” you whispered. “What’s going on? Why is there a dead body in Eddie’s trailer? They don’t think Eddie has anything to do with this, right? He would never hurt anyone.”

Max mutters your name and you tear your eyes away from the screen to look at her. Tears threaten to spill over your cheeks and she gingerly takes your hand and squeezes it. “I saw Chrissy Cunningham walk into Eddie’s trailer last night,” she said.  

Your heart squeezes tightly at the mention of a prettier, more popular girl entering Eddie’s home. Did not saying anything in the first place solidify your relationship status? Did Eddie think you broke up with him so he was free to fuck whomever now? It made you sick just thinking about it.

If he did, he wasn’t the one to blame. You were. Eddie hadn’t technically cheated on you, if that were if fact the case. Your relationship was never complicated until a week ago, and now you might’ve messed up the best thing to happen to you.

“Have you told the cops?” you asked, pushing past the inner turmoil you feel.

“No.”

“Why?”

Max sighs and plays with her fingers. “After I saw them go into the trailer… something else happened. The TV went out and the lights flashed like crazy. At first, I thought it was nothing because it happens all the time, but then I saw Eddie’s face as he left. He was scared… really scared because… because…”

“Because something else killed her?” you finished quietly and she nods.

“Which is impossible, right?”

Your eyes meet Dustin’s and suddenly all the sleuthing and research and hiding out you’ve done over the last month starts to come to fruition. Your gut hadn’t been wrong. Something was happening in Hawkins, but you were too early. You had nothing to go on except the one lone nightmare you had. Now someone was dead. You should’ve done more, maybe if you had Chrissy wouldn’t be dead.

“I don’t know. The only person who knows what happened is Eddie. We have to find him before the police do. They’ll probably want to question me, so we have to hurry. Let me go get dressed and we can go,” you said, standing up from your spot on the couch.

You run upstairs and get dressed quickly. You dress in a pair of dark washed jeans, a loose, lilac t-shirt, and a blue windbreaker. Pulling your duffle bag out of your closet, you stuff one of the t-shirts Eddie gave you into the bag. You throw an extra toothbrush and travel sized toothpaste, deodorant, and shampoo in as well. You dig the nail bat out from the back of your closet and the walkie talkie that sat a top your dresser.  

Hurrying downstairs, you run into the kitchen and drop both the bag and the bat at the front door. You pull the box of Cheez-It’s from the shelf along with the box of Cheerios. You grab a handful of granola bars and water bottles before throwing them in a plastic bag.

“What are you doing?” Dustin asked from the kitchen counter.

“Gathering food for Eddie. He’s probably starving,” you said, swinging your bag over your shoulder and holding the bat by the stem. “Let’s go.”

Grabbing your keys and wallet from the table, you follow Dustin and Max out the front door. Locking it behind you, you jog to your car. Opening the trunk, you toss your duffle bag inside before climbing into the driver’s seat.

“Do you have any idea where Eddie might be?” Dustin asked as you drove down the street towards Family Video.

Your fingers tighten around the steering wheel. “No. He has to be somewhere no one knows about since the cops haven’t found him yet. We’re going to have to call all his friends to see if they have any idea where he might be.”

“Then why are we at Family Video?” Max asked as you parked the car.

“The store has more than one phone,” you answered exiting the car. You walk into the store and stand in front of the counter. You find Robin and Steve organizing VCR tapes. Dustin hurries in after you and jumps over the counter. Both your friends yell at the young teen.

“Listen, we need to use your phones to call all of Eddie’s friends,” Dustin said, typing away at the computer.

“Your new best friend, Eddie?” Steve asked petulantly, standing over his shoulder.

“What, is calling all of Eddie’s friends an emergency?” Robin bit back, fixing the pile of movies Dustin knocked over.

“Yes,” you answered for him.

Steve sighed your name and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re the last person I would expect to entertain Dustin’s ridiculous ideas. If it were any other day, it would be fine, but it’s Saturday!”

You sighed in return and fill your friends in with the information Max gave you and let her fill in when appropriate. You tell them how your monster hunting over the last month and a half hadn’t been in vain, you just had barely anything to go off of and now you did. You beg your two best friends to help you find your boyfriend and they both hesitantly agree.

You watch Dustin write down all the phone numbers of Eddie’s friends as Robin walks into the back off to grab the extra phone. You, Max, and Dustin spend the next hour calling his friends. Every person you called led to the same answer: no one knew where Eddie was.

You hung the phone up and groan in frustration. You lean against the counter and watch Max pace the small length of the counter as she talks on the phone before hanging up. “I think I have a lead. He maybe at Reefer Rick’s. The guy I talked to said Eddie goes there because Rick’s his supplier and he crashes there sometimes.”

No wonder you didn’t know where Eddie was. Eddie never told you where he got the drugs that he sold in Hawkins. He was more than happy to smoke with you, but that’s all he shared. He wouldn’t let you get involved even if you wanted to. He mentioned Reefer Rick once, but didn’t share any other details with you.

“Could we find his address if he had an account here?” You asked.

Robin shrugged, “Yeah, probably. We would be guessing which one he is based on the movies he rents.”

It takes five minutes to find the Rick you’re looking for. Rick’s house is just off the shore at Lover’s Lake. It’s the perfect place to hide. You run out of the store and return to your car. Robin locks the store behind her and the kids climb into your car while Robin goes to Steve’s car.

Pulling out of the parking lot, you sped down the street to the edge of town. Turning down Holland Road, you park in front of Rick’s house. The yard is unkept and weeds grow up the porch steps. Running towards the door, you pace along the porch as Dustin frantically rings the door bell and bangs on the door. Your heart beats wildly against your chest as you wait. You play with your fingers and bite the inside of your cheek.

“Hey, guys!” Max shouted from behind you.

You hurry over to her and stare at what she’s looking at. A boatshed stands just before the shoreline. A lone light is on over the shed door. You run down the slight hill and quickly push the door open. “Eddie?” you whispered into the shed as your friends yelled after you.

“Are you crazy?!” Steve hissed, grabbing you by the arm. “What if Eddie’s not here? We don’t know if this Reefer Rick guy is dangerous or not!”

“Oh, relax Steve,” you sighed with an eyeroll.

“Considering we’ve been close to dying about a hundred times, I rather not.”

You watch him grab an oar from the wall and poke at the inside of the boat in the center of the shed. You tiptoe around the rest of the shed, noticing a pile of junk food wrappers and empty beer bottles on a nearby table. Someone had been in the boatshed recently.

You move your flashlight around the rest of the room. Besides the trash on the table, there were no other signs that someone had been inside. You sigh dejectedly. If Eddie wasn’t here, where could he be?

There’s a sudden crash on the other side of the shed and you run around the dock to find Eddie pinning Steve against the wall of the shed with a broken piece of glass held against his neck. The four of you scream and Steve drops the oar.

“Eddie!” you shouted his name, pushing between the kids with your hands raised. “It’s me, honey. Everything’s okay.”

He turns his head at the sound of your voice. Eddie’s brown eyes are dark and wild, like he can’t believe you’re standing there. He blinks twice and the grip he has on the shred of glass tightens. It’s as if he thinks you’re a desert mirage, that you’re not actually standing in front of him. You wonder if Eddie thinks that his mind is playing tricks on him. He’s had a rough 24 hours and the last thing he needs is another bad thing happening to him.

“Baby,” you plea, taking another step towards him, “we’re here to help you, I’m here to help you. Please let Steve go.”

Eddie’s harsh breaths mix with the sound of soft waves hitting against the dock. He murmurs your name like he can’t believe it’s you standing in front of him in this beat up boatshed. He’s in utter disbelief. It’s like you’ve grown two heads with the way he looks at you.

His grip on Steve’s jacket loosens and he drops the shard of glass. You take two long strides to get to him and he nearly collapses in your embrace. His arms wrap protectively around your torso. Eddie sobs into your neck and clings to you. Your fingers gently card through his hair.

You could barely believe that you were hugging in this circumstance. You broke his heart a week ago and now Eddie was holding on to you like a boat to an anchor. Tears pool at the corners of your eyes as you held your broken boyfriend. You’ve only seen him like this one other time, and it was on the anniversary of his mother’s death. It scared you to think about.

“Eddie, it’s okay,” you whispered into his hairline, kissing the side of his head as you held back tears. “You’re okay. We’re here to help you, okay? Tell me what happened, baby.”

Eddie pulls away from the nape of your neck and holds your face in his hands as the two of you slowly fall to the floor. You brush your fingers through his hair and gently tuck it behind his ears before wiping the tears staining his cheeks. He swallows hard and shakes his head.

“You won’t believe me,” he cried.

Your chest physically aches at his reply and a few tears slip past. You hold his face delicately in your hands. “Try me, Eddie, please.”

His warm eyes search yours as he watches you take one of his hands and slips your fingers between his. You squeeze it gently and kiss the back of his hand. He lets out a shaky breath and relents. He tells you everything, his eyes never leaving yours.

Chrissy went to his trailer to buy drugs, and when he returned from his room to give them to her, she was floating in the air. Eddie described how her bones snapped in different directions and how her eyes were a soft white, void of any color. It was as if something was inside Chrissy’s head, pulling her apart from the inside out.

“I didn’t know what to do so I just… I ran away… I left her there,” he sniffed as he explained what happened.

There’s a beat of silence as you digest what happened. In the end, you were right. Something was going on in Hawkins, and Chrissy Cunningham just happened to be the first casualty. You tried to figure out what was going on, but you were too late, or rather, too early. You didn’t want anyone else to die because of the Upside Down, but it wasn’t possible. Chrissy wasn’t the only victim. Eddie was too. It broke your heart that Eddie felt he had to deal with it on his own.

“You must think I’m crazy,” he muttered, pulling away from you and looking out into the lake.

You shake your head vehemently and gently tug on his chin so he’s forced to look at you. “No, Eddie. I don’t think you’re crazy.”

“Don’t bullshit me! I know how this sounds!” he shouted as another wave of tears escape the corners of his eyes.

“We believe you, Eddie,” Robin murmured, taking a step closer to the two of you.

Dustin joins you on the floor and both you and Eddie turn to look at him. His voice is soft and gentle as he spoke. “What I’m about to tell you may be a little difficult to take…” there’s a soft pause before he continues.

Dustin tells Eddie everything about the Upside Down and the monsters that sneak through the dimension and plague Hawkins. He listens intently and doesn’t ask any questions. Eddie squeezes your hand tightly as the group listens. You don’t add anything. You’ll have time to tell the rest to him later.

When Dustin’s finished, Eddie looks to you. “Is this why you’ve been acting so weird lately?” he asked. “Because you’ve been hunting monsters and shit? Not because you’re cheating on me?”

You can’t help but laugh. Out of all the questions you thought he would ask, that wasn’t one of them. You wipe away the last of your tears and nod. “Yeah, this is why I’ve been acting so weird,” you confirmed with a small smile.

Eddie pulls you into his chest for another tight hug. You take a deep breath and breathe him in. He still smelled the same: hints of a warm, deep musk with remnants of the weed he smokes no matter how old it is. His fingers squeeze the fabric of your windbreaker and you feel a soft kiss to the side of your head.

He helps you to your feet and you watch your friends head to the door. Dustin turns around expectantly, waiting for you to join them.

“You should go,” he muttered quietly. “Come back in the morning.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said, turning to meet his gaze. “I’m not leaving you. I’ll leave when they come back tomorrow.”

Eddie sighs and wraps his arms around you, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck.

“I have stuff in my trunk for you,” you said after a beat of silence as you watched your friends climb up the small hill to the street. “Can you figure out how to get into the house while I go grab it?”

He nods against your skin and leaves another kiss.

You hurry out of the boatshed and run up to your car. Unlocking it quickly, you open the trunk and grab your duffle bag and nail bat. You lock the car again before running to the back porch of the house where Eddie was waiting with the door unlocked.

Eddie pushes the door open just enough for you to slip inside before following behind you. He’s quick to lock the door as you pull the blinds shut and curtains closed for good measure. Eddie takes your hand and drags you along to the master bedroom.

Eddie turns on the bedside lamp and soft light fills the room. To your surprise, the room is nice and clean. The bed is made and the floor is clear. No one had been in the room for a while.

Dropping your bag to the floor, you open it up and grab the toiletries you packed for Eddie. “Do you want to take a shower and brush your teeth?” you asked as you watched him plop down on the bed.

He nods slowly and you take the toiletries inside the bathroom and turn the light on. Eddie trails behind you and stands in front of the bathroom counter as you hand him the toothbrush and toothpaste you brought for him. Eddie brushes his teeth wordlessly as you set the shampoo and bodywash you brought inside the shower.

“Will you… will you shower with me?” Eddie whispered as you turned on the shower. You turn to look at him and a light pink dusts his cheeks. “I just don’t want to be alone.”

Your heart breaks at his admission. Although Eddie hasn’t seen you naked yet, you’re more than happy to appease him. Eddie needs you. He’s needed you for a while. The emotional distance you caused put a strain on your relationship. You don’t want it to happen again.

“Of course, Eds,” you whispered.

Eddie undresses slowly as you do the same. You tug your windbreaker off and toss it in the corner along with the rest of your clothes. You step into the shower after Eddie and the warm water cascades down your back.

You don’t have it in you to feel shy or embarrassed that Eddie’s seeing you naked for the first time. He needs you and you’re more than happy to oblige.

Eddie’s hands settle on your bare hips. His wet hair covers his face and you gently pull it away from his eyes. The sound of your soft breaths mixes with the water as you stare at each other. Eddie’s fingers trail up your body and brush against the scarred flesh along your arm and shoulder. Despite the warmth the water provides, goosebumps litter your skin at his gentle touch.

“What happened here?” Eddie asked, staring at the raised flesh on your body. It makes you shiver as you reach for the shampoo and squeeze some into your hand. You reach up and gently lather the soap into Eddie’s hair.

“One of the monsters got to me last summer,” you answered with equal softness as you scratched at his scalp. “It was heading towards Steve and I pushed him out of the way. The monster’s teeth tore through my flesh and left me with this.”

“Is this why we haven’t had sex yet? Were you scared that I would judge you for something out of your control?”

Your silence is deafening and Eddie frowns. He reaches to hold your face in his hands while yours rest against his chest. Tears pool at the corners of your eyes and you let out a soft sigh. “It’s not that I was scared you would judge me because of the scars. I was scared you would look at me differently. They’re ugly and—”

“Hey, don’t say that,” he chastised quietly, tugging your chin up so you’re forced to look at him. “They’re not ugly. They’re a part of you and I love you, every piece of you.”

Your heart jumps inside your throat. Eddie loves you. Eddie loves you. The man you love loves you back, even after everything you put him through. You’re going to burst and your eyes search his. Eddie’s eyes widen at his admission and he starts to stutter an apology when you gently press a finger to his lips.

“I love you too, Eddie,” you whispered. “I’ve been dying to tell you for a while now.”

Eddie grins and the warmth in his eyes returns. His nose brushes against yours. “Can I kiss you?”

You nod eagerly and Eddie presses his mouth to yours. You smile into the kiss and his lips kiss your teeth. The warm water fills the space between you and Eddie carefully presses you into the shower wall. Your fingers thread through his hair and a breathy sigh escapes your throat as Eddie kissed along the column of your throat down to your shoulder where the scarring began. He kissed and nibbled his way across your skin as you sighed again and again.

Your fingers squeeze his chest as his hands trailed down your torso and settled on your ass.

“Eddie,” you murmured. He pulls away and stares at you. His lips are flushed and his face is a warm pink from kissing you. You gently hold his face in your hands and brush his wet hair out of his face. “I want to apologize. I’m sorry for being distant and not telling you the truth. I never want to make you feel like that again. I love you and I hope you can forgive me.”

Eddie grins and presses another kiss to your mouth. “Of course, I forgive you, sweetheart. Now I understand why. We’re okay, I promise. Can I go back to kissing you?”

Your laugh echoes in the shower and you grin. “I was thinking we could move this to the bedroom?”

Eddie’s eyes widen and his face grows an even deeper shade of pink. “Are you… are you sure? We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything if you’re not ready.”

“I’m sure, Eddie. I trust you. I’ll tell you if I want you to stop, okay?”

Eddie nods eagerly and turns off the shower. He steps out and takes you by the hand. Eddie reaches for a towel and is quick to dry himself off before handing it off to you. It makes you laugh with how eager he is.

When you’re done drying off, Eddie drags you into the bedroom. You climb to the top of the bed and Eddie’s quick to join you. He grins and kisses you hard into the mattress. His bare chest rubs up against yours and a soft moan leaves your throat. Eddie groans into your mouth.

“So pretty, baby,” he uttered into your mouth. It makes you tingle with want and desire. Eddie pulls away and drags his mouth down your body. His fingers play with your nipples before his mouth wraps around your left breast. He nips and sucks and it makes you dizzy. “I could do this all night. Your tits are perfect.”

You moan again and grab at his damp curls. Eddie laughs against your skin as he slides further and further down your body. Your breath quickens and your heart beats wildly against your chest at the feeling of Eddie’s hands between your thighs. His fingers run along the length of your thighs to your knees and back up again.

“Eddie,” you sighed blissfully, “please.”

He chuckles into your skin and kisses the inside of your thigh before teasing his fingers around your folds. Your hips jerk up and Eddie kisses your knee. He pressed his thumb against your clit, gathering your slick between his fingers. “Is this what you wanted, baby?” he smirked, slipping a finger inside you.

“More, I need more,” you begged.  

Eddie gently places your legs over his shoulders and your knees squeeze his head. Eddie laughs again and pulls your thighs apart. “You’re soaked and I’ve barely touched you,” he murmured, sinking his tongue between your folds.

A scream rips past your throat as Eddie laps at your center. His ring clad fingers dig into your hips and pin you to the bed. Your fingers card through his hair and tug harshly. His nose brushes against your clit and you squeeze your eyes shut. He laps greedily at your center, kissing and sucking every inch his mouth could reach. It sends jolts of pleasure through your entire body.

Eddie slips a finger inside of you, the cool metal of his rings brush against your folds as he fingers you. You cry out and tighten your grip in his hair again. Your body is on fire. White, hot pleasure runs through you as the coil in your stomach grows tighter and tighter.

“Eddie, I’m—” you cried desperately, bucking your hips to meet his mouth and the strokes of his fingers.

“I got you, baby,” he muttered into your skin, “let go.”  

You cum with a cry of his name as he coaxes you through your orgasm. Your legs shake as you come down from your high. You pant hard as Eddie laps up your juices before pulling away and climbing up to kiss you. You hold the side of his face as you taste yourself on his tongue. His mouth slips inside yours and swallows your moans.

“Think you can go again?” he whispered into your mouth before biting your neck. His teeth are gentle as he leaves a warm hickie in his wake.

You nod. “Yeah, yeah, I can. I can go again,” you answered quietly.

Eddie grins against your hot skin before kneeling back on his legs. Your fingers brush against the tattoo against his chest and the necklace hanging from his neck. Eddie pulls your hips closer and carefully takes himself in his hand and lines up at your entrance.  

He pushes in slowly and it has you gasping and squeezing his shoulder. Eddie’s thick and fills you to the brim until he bottoms out. He doesn’t move for several, long, antagonizing seconds. You feel your heart in your throat with ever twitch beneath you.

“You’re so tight, sweet girl,” he moaned in your ear, leaning back before slowly pushing back in. His hand wraps your leg around his waist and he presses further into you. Eddie takes your free hand and slips his fingers through yours. You squeeze his hand tightly and let out a soft moan. You clench around him and he groans.  

“Faster, Eddie,” you moaned. “Please, go faster.”

His warm laughter fills the already hot room. Eddie captures your lips in a kiss and whispers against your mouth, “Only because you asked so nicely.”

Eddie’s thrusts grow fast and deep. With your legs wrapped around him, he hits the furthest part of you. You scream and beg and moan Eddie’s name. The same white-hot pleasure you felt before returns with equal intensity. Eddie’s skilled fingers toy with your clit with every thrust. Eddie’s lips find yours as he swallows each moan and gasp from your lips. He buries his face into the crease of your neck and sucks a number of hickies into your throat.

“You almost there, baby?” he panted as his thrusts began to grow sloppy as he neared his peak. You nod into his neck and Eddie’s fingers play with your folds.

You scream Eddie’s name and your back arches off the bed as you cum. Eddie grunts your name and guides you through your own orgasm before pulling out and releasing on your stomach. Eddie collapses on your chest and your fingers rub up and down his back as you catch your breath.

Eddie gently turns your head and kisses you sweetly before climbing out of bed and scurrying to the bathroom. He hurries back with a wet cloth and wordlessly cleans the mess he made on your stomach and thighs before using it on himself. Tossing it on the floor, he climbs back into bed and pulls you against his chest. You turn to face him and rest a hand on his face, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

“We’ll figure this out together, okay?” you whispered, kissing him gently.

“I know,” he said, holding your hand in his as he fell into a restless sleep with you by his side.  

[nocaptainonthisship]

This morning, I unfollowed my third person in as many months for complaining about their ao3 engagement, and I regret nothing.

The moment I allow myself to start thinking about how many people are reading my work over how much joy I bring into a space, the quality of my writing goes down the drain. And seeing this kind of thing from people who I share a fandom with(thereby knowing the degree to which their last fic outpaced the sum total of my last three by hits) makes me a bit crazy. Because I don't want to be the kind of author who obsesses over status! I want to write stories I'm proud of, and that bring me joy. If someone out there likes them, that's great! But it can't be what drives me.(Notice how I'm really driving this point home for myself, because it is HARD not to fall into this trap and I am trying to do better.)

But I see people complain about the hits or the kudos or the comments, ESPECIALLY in relation to other authors(again, a callout for me specifically- I'm trying to do better!) We're not in competition with each other, babes. We're on the same team! We like the same show/movie/ship(s)! Just because you play tight end and I'm a kicker doesn't mean we aren't wearing the same jersey. By using stats as the marker for your success, you are wildly underselling the value of what you made. With nothing but a little inspiration, your imagination and likely a fair bit of caffeine, you created a story that is entirely your own. That is an incredible achievement on its own. Did one person tell you it meant something to them? I'm so glad you found each other. Two? How lucky you are to have been able to touch people's lives. Three feels like the sweet spot- perfect number for a virtual happy hour to scream in the group chat about headcanons.

Point being, I guess- you owe me nothing! If you want to read my fic and leave me a comment, I would love that. Comments and kudos and all of that do bring me joy. Don't want to comment? Totally fine! You owe me nothing. Don't want to read what I write? Also totally okay! You owe me nothing.

Now, here's what I owe to myself- the peace of mind that comes from not playing the comparison game, and protecting myself by not allowing in voices who are at odds with that aim.

(As a final note, if you want to complain about "cool in groups" in fandom I have excellent news: no one is cool! We're all a bunch on mangy nerds. Please say hi! Or don't! You owe me nothing.)

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝

Pairing | Yandere Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 3,146

Warnings | +18, yandere, smut, Stockholm syndrome, body worship. pussy worship, pussy eating, tongue fucking, fingering, breast/nipples worship, explicit language and descriptions, vaginal sex, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, manipulation, obsession, this is not for minors

This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | If she had paid attention earlier to the sin that dwelt behind those obsidian irises, she would never have trusted it.

If she had noticed earlier the devouring love that dwelled in his corrupt heart, she probably would have fled.

She had done none of that, and now she had to come to terms with her new reality.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys! Here is the eighth and final chapter of Happy Ending ❤ The idea of publishing the last chapter of this story excites me, I was really pleased to hear that you enjoyed it and there will be surprises coming for you! I have already prepared drabbles for Happy Ending and a spin-off about Jimin, I really hope this will make you happy ❤ Please write to me if you would like to be added to the taglist of the spin-off ❤

And I apologize for the errors that there will be in the chapter, it has been a difficult week 😭❤

Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @douknowbts, @aiiselle90210, @fewercascade , @mageprincess7, @m00njinnie, @get-that-brain-working, @whipwhoops

Chapter List - I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII / The End

When Y/N reopened her eyes, it was now past twelve o'clock. She stood up, recognizing Jungkook's bedroom, becoming aware of what had happened a few hours ago, her cheeks blushing at the memory of how she had held him in her mouth until he had fully climaxed, had she been good? Well, she had never given a blowjob in her life, but copying those same videos and drawing from her previous hard readings, she must not have been that bad. She got out of bed, determined to take a shower as well as brush her teeth. Not that she minded the taste of cum, she had already noticed that it didn't bother her from that time on the couch, but it still wasn't a pleasant sensation after hours of good sleep. She washed herself thoroughly, feeling a strange discomfort between her legs, it was like a sense of dissatisfaction pulsing right in the center of her heat, she tried to pleasure herself under the hot water, but the image of Jungkook giving her pleasure on the couch could not drive it away, she swallowed, fully understanding what her body was communicating to her. She wanted Jungkook, only he knew exactly what points to hit and where to reach. She bit her lips undecided whether or not to ask the boy for a little help, got dressed with that doubt in her mind and went to the kitchen, but she did not find him, the boy was not present in the living room either, and she with wide eyes ran to his office.

He was there most of the time and, to her relief, she found him there that time as well, from the open chink she saw the boy hunched over drawings, the tall, powerful figure rekindled that intimate desire, which she found inexplicable. Why on earth did he have that powerful effect on her? She decided to enter at a leisurely pace, stopping just behind him. Obviously with a job like his, over the years Jungkook had learned to sense a person's presence well in advance, which was precisely why he was not surprised to see her there; he turned with a smile. "Are you hungry?" Y/N squeezed into her shoulders, approaching the desk. She looked carefully at the drawings that Jungkook was evaluating, read at the corners of each sheet the name of each of her classmates, tightened her lips and with a nimble, quick gesture tossed that useless block to the side, they were not works of art, there was no love in those lines, Y/N knew this, she always heard her classmates complaining that they could not play during drawing hours, just as she heard them praising Jungkook's beauty, yet discrediting his lessons. "Wasted," they would say, "With that body he would look great as a team coach," they continued.

They did not appreciate Jungkook's work and talent, but she was different, that's why she was his. The boy studied the girl's attitude confusedly, "Is everything okay?" Y/N felt great, she was no longer thinking about her studies or those two who called themselves parents, she was fine. She was fine with Jungkook and only that mattered, every flap of her mind was about the boy in front of her. She longed for him, she wanted him, she loved him. With those thoughts in her mind, she jumped over the desk, positioning herself right in front of Jungkook, who watched with surprise at the girl's actions. She was wearing a low-cut sweater and white shorts that day, leaving the rest of her legs uncovered, legs she swung briskly before smiling. "Yes, I'm hungry," she said, Jungkook nodded, already ready to get up to prepare something for her - he still didn't trust her to put a knife in her hands, Jimin's experience had been shocking enough not to follow suit - but Y/N leaned over to pull the chair, and consequently the boy, closer to the desk. Jungkook tilted his head, then a light bulb went off and he threw himself against the back of the chair, licking his lower lip. "What would you like to eat?" he asked her, playfully.

Y/N shook her head, "In truth I would have another kind of hunger, something that sees you eating me," she clarified bluntly, by now she understood that with Jungkook she would no longer have to mind explicitly requesting far more intimate attention. The latter's fingers closed over the cleavage of her sweater, pulling downward to expose her full, soft breasts, still enclosed in her pearl-colored bra. "And how should I eat you today, sweetheart?" he murmured, leaving a moist kiss on the portion of her breasts that protruded briskly without restraint. Y/N trembled, her intimacy already on fire from mere words. Jungkook went up the column of her neck with soft, sweet kisses, reached the earlobe, which he took between his teeth and nibbled, before pulling and whispering, "Should I be sweet and slow?" with one hand he untangled the bra hooks, immediately crept underneath, cupping one soft breast, the girl trembled, squirming when one of her peaks was teased, "Or does my little girl want something more brutal and fast?" he pressed firmly against the nipple, rubbing his mouth against the tip as it plumped.

Y/N threw back her head, holding onto her elbows, "S-Sweet... and slow, please" she sighed, Jungkook hummed, sucking the tender little button, he broke away slightly to blow hot air on it that made the girl shiver, Jungkook realized how sensitive she was and sadistically pulled the nipple lightly between his teeth, watching ravenously as the girl's fingers tightened between them. "My little girl wants to be treated like a princess," he crooned, "You're right, it's not yet time for you to find out what a whore you can become under my command," he growled and Y/N's intimacy tightened at his words. He undressed her by throwing her sweater to the floor along with her bra, leaving to his own will that divine feast, which he found himself adoring by holding her still by the hips, while with his lips he took to tormenting her other nipple, pushed it against his palate crushing it over and over again, heedless of the fingers that pulled at his silky locks, he breathed in the scent of her skin as he swallowed his own spit, trying not to drool around her sensitive flesh. With his mouth busy pleasantly torturing the young woman's breasts, covering them with kisses and signs of love, he reached down with his hands to unbutton her shorts, Y/N timidly helped him in the task, and soon that garment was slipped off her legs.

Jungkook began to knead through the fabric of her panties the tender folds of her burning pussy, pushed two fingers against her clit, aroused felt the little pearl pulsing under his fingertips, and pulled completely off her chest, biting eagerly at her hips and then lower and lower, getting to where he was really expected, Y/N lay fully on the desk, watching Jungkook's head between her legs with glazed eyes, throwing them back at the boy's first lick, she trembled so much that Jungkook had to spread her legs wider. With her panties now on the floor, Jungkook took care to lick her swollen clitoris again slowly, feeling on his taste buds the flavor of each velvety inch. He found her pussy incredibly soaked, which did not, however, prevent him from spitting between her folds, making the stretch even smoother and wetter for his tongue, which gathered its essence before sucking that throbbing pearl into his mouth, caressing it occasionally with his tongue.

Y/N felt herself lost in a whirlwind of forbidden sensations and overwhelming emotions, she spread her lips wide in search of air, thrusting her pelvis more and more against the boy's voracious mouth, who pushed his tongue deep into her tight, wet slit, touched a particularly sensitive area with the tip that made Y/N stiffen, who moaned louder, speechless. "J-Jungkook, faster, please!" she exclaimed, watching him from her obscenely spread legs, but the boy smiled, before licking her folds once more, focusing occasionally on her increasingly charged and aching clitoris.

"Oh, no... you said sweet..." he left a kiss on the folds, "... and slow..." he finished, lightly penetrating her entrance with a finger, slowly pumping between the moist walls that fluttered and tightened as he passed. Y/N felt like crying; she did not think Jungkook was so sadistic in bed. "Jungkook, don't do this to me," she cried painfully, the boy seemed to think of an answer, continuing to stuff her entrance by adding another finger, which made the stretch more difficult because of the tightness of the young woman. "Will you let me go on?" he observed the distraught figure of the girl, lying on his desk with her head turned upward, nervously biting her lips. Y/N did not understand what he meant at first, then slowly came to it and did not know what to answer. "But...I've never done that," she murmured, hissing at the hot tongue that returned to make her legs tremble, striking the swollen pearl in quick tongue strokes, she squeezed the young man's head between her legs, trying to prolong that pleasurable torture, but Jungkook pulled away.

He longed to be her first and only man, knowing he had a virgin in his hands teased his animal side, which roared with pleasure. "I could introduce you to a pleasure you don't even imagine you can achieve, Y/N," he said seriously, the girl thought about it, "So you want to come like this?" in asking, he sucked violently on her swollen clitoris, encircling it with his tongue lasciviously causing her to scream, "For me it would be no problem, love... but would you allow me to introduce you to something that will unite us inextricably?" the rough, dark voice hit the girl's belly, she felt herself ignite more. The idea of joining him in a more intimate and close way appealed to her, although she harbored much fear about it; she knew it would also be painful. "Will you make me feel good?" she chirped shyly, and Jungkook melted into a smile, nodding. "I will always make you feel good, my beautiful girl." At that point she made her decision, agreed to take that extra step forward, defeating her fear. Jungkook stood up, taking her in his arms with unprecedented ease, Y/N looked at him confused. "The bed I think is more comfortable as the first time," he justified himself, kissing her forehead. He carried her to what would effectively become the bedroom of both of them, laying her in the middle of the mattress, between the sheets that already smelled of them. Together.

Jungkook began to undress, that was the first time the girl saw him completely naked, she wordlessly admired the tattoos that crept around his arm, and then noticed the toned and smooth muscles, his swollen lips thanks to her juices stretched into a sly smile when he also shed his jeans and underwear, showing her once again the perfect shape of his legs and his already taut and swollen cock, although the boy paid no attention to it, watching attractively the girl's soft and more downsized body, which looked like a tender little thing in comparison to him. He climbed on all fours on the bed and crawled toward her before stealing a kiss from her, entwining their tongues and tasting their flavors, Y/N distinguished a spicy note on the man's tongue, which she guessed was just his essence, Jungkook tenderly encircled her by one hip, while with his other hand he went back to teasing her folds, trying to make her relax again. "Look into my eyes, Y/N," he murmured on her lips, the girl did as he told her, losing herself in the night sky of his incredibly sweet irises, "I'll try to go slow, okay? It will only hurt a bit at first," he told her and she nodded, resting her head between his neck and shoulder, focusing on the erotic sensations of the man's fingers in her pleasure center.

Jungkook encircled her clit with his thumb, squeezing it gently before caressing the delicate pearl, retrieved some liquid pleasure from her tight slit in order to spread it over the bundle of nerves, lubricating and softening the delicious rubbing, Y/N moved her hips against the hand, moaning at the pressing pleasure that expanded to the tip of her hair, moments later Jungkook penetrated her entrance, parting her walls in a slow and pleasurable stretch, adding a third finger shortly afterward that made the girl frown. It didn't hurt, but it stung slightly, Jungkook left soft kisses on her neck, trying to distract her. He succeeded, felt her relax, and his fingers gained speed as the girl's moisture increased along with her arousal. Small sounds rhythmically came out of her throat, her eyes closed to focus on the sensation as best she could, not missing the way Jungkook's thumb still rolled slowly over her stiff clitoris. Jungkook reached to touch a slightly more elastic spot, he realized there he had to stop, she was ready enough to take him without too much pain.

He brought his fingers out of her intimacy and Y/N suddenly felt empty. She saw him move away to stand between her legs already wide open for him, the boy observed the girl's slick folds licking his lips, his cock moved involuntarily at the sight and accompanied him between them, sliding easily he touched her clitoris with the moist tip, insisting over and over again on that spot to make the girl tremble once more, she felt the center of her pleasure contract obscenely.

Jungkook finished his little game by pressing himself one last time, when he pulled away a long trail of cum connected the girl's sex to his sensitive cock, hissed pressing against the soggy slit, gently and slowly penetrating it, tenderly enveloped him, and his hips contracted feverishly. Y/N immediately felt the substantial difference between the young man's fingers and his cock, and to say that the boy's fingers were also much longer and thicker than the girl's! When he pushed further, the woman's walls continued to envelop him like a glove, Jungkook had to block himself by gritting his teeth, he could have come there and then without much ado, Y/N for her part felt a strange mix of sensations. She felt pleasantly full, small waves of pleasure also joined the slightly burning stretch that Jungkook left when he resumed moving in small thrusts, he went deeper and she arched reflexively, shocked by the intimacy of the union, she tightened around him moaning, the knowledge that she had him inside her in a way that another woman could only have dreamed of excited her more than anything else and now accustomed to his presence she pushed against his hips, communicating to him that he could go further.

Jungkook took a breath before pulling out to the scarlet tip, then back in again with a vigorous thrust, the girl felt something inside her flake and split, she let out a small scream immediately stifled by the boy's lips, which resumed thrusting without giving her any more time to be able to register the pain, he furrowed the soft and warm walls in the grip of unheard of pleasure, they were so close that Y/N felt the boy's pubes touch hers, a burst of pleasure stronger than the others left her gasping, she broke away from Jungkook's lips to embrace him in despair, pain and pleasure combined to create a strange, bewitching spiral, and the more his cock sinuously penetrated the elastic entrance, cradling the walls with gentle, frenzied thrusts, the more pleasure she felt increased, releasing charged jets that shocked her body. The thrusts increased in speed, Jungkook felt drops of his own sweat slip from his body to join the girl's, he scrutinized her distraught face and found her enchanting in her fucked and desperate state, she was crying and he knew it was not from pain, she was experiencing sensations so unfamiliar that her brain was not yet able to comprehend the extent of them, she was crying because that was her only outlet and Jungkook felt himself tensing painfully at the sight, he changed angles slightly and Y/N widened her eyes.

"Oooooh ... fuck, fuck, fuck!" she exclaimed shamelessly, Jungkook realized with amusement that he had found her most sensitive spot and rotated his pelvis in order to strike that area one more time.

"Yes? Is this where you want me?" he asked not recognizing his own voice, simply repeated the action and the girl nodded vigorously. "Yes! Oh, please... yes, yes..." Y/N went so far as to claw his back to clarify the concept, "Don't stop! Oh God!" He felt her stiffen, squeezing him in a tremendously pleasurable grip that made Jungkook's hips stutter, Y/N felt him all the way to her belly, her walls throbbed violently, and Jungkook took the opportunity to pinch her clit one last time, leaving her to explode in a hard, intense orgasm that left her trembling like a pudding on the bed. The boy continued with his increasingly voracious and direct thrusts, his heavy balls pulsed hitting the girl's buttocks uninterruptedly, this triggered a devastating orgasm in him that made him moan breathlessly, he came inside her flooding her walls, the girl's pussy violently contracted once again, willingly welcoming his cum and his last sloppy thrusts, finally he collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily over Y/N, she was still too out of it. "Y/N?" he asked, the girl tried to open her eyes. "Mh?" "I love you," he said with his heart in his throat, in love and kidnapped. Yes, kidnapped. She had kidnapped him and not the other way around. Y/N let go of a lazy smile, "I love you too, Jungkook," she replied, finally fulfilling Jungkook's dream, she touched the boy's face affectionately, "You kept your promise, with you I feel protected and happy," she found herself moved, continuing to caress him. Jungkook kissed her hand gently. "I will destroy anyone who tries to hurt you," he whispered with a serious look that left the girl interjected, "I will stop at no one, my love." Y/N felt a strange chill pervade her, but she mentally shook her head, telling herself there was nothing wrong, smiled at Jungkook and kissed him, dragging him with her between the soft sheets with a giggle. He thought back to the elderly neighbor, to the words of that now distant day, gosh, she was so right. Yes, that was the something new she had been waiting for, the happy ending she had been waiting for her whole miserable life. "I love you."

[allbark-no-bite]

kiss me and apologize || Carmen Berzatto x reader

summary: from private chef to working in a rundown restaurant in Chicago, your life does a 180 as you try to fit into the world that is the Beef. Richie isn’t helping and Carmen just can’t figure you out

word count: 3.7k

warnings: swearing, mentions of michael’s death/suicide

author’s note: so um i guess i write for the Bear now?? official obsessed with the show and was inspired by all of the great writers that write for Carmy on here :)

"Carmen? The door?"

"What—? Oh yeah, yeah. Sorry."

He turns towards the door, fumbling for the key with numb fingers, his face burning hot.

He wasn't used to anyone else besides himself showing up to the restaurant so early in the morning, and he definitely wasn't used to you and your pink cheeks and and warm smile greeting him at the door. You were a new hire to the Beef, a godforsaken miracle dressed in oversized overalls who had shown up two weeks ago and been hired by Sydney on the spot.

She had been smitten with you from the start, dead set on hiring you without so much as a second interview.

"—studied in Copenhagen, worked at multiple Michelins in New York. I mean look at this, Carmen. She's a private chef in the Hamptons. We would be stupid not to hired her."

And you were great. You are great. Except for the fact that you're really fucking distracting.

"You sure you got it, chef?"

Carmen can't even blame the heat rising from his cheeks from the cold at this point because his hands are sweating as he jiggles the door knob that somehow always seems to get jammed at the worst possible moments. This is one of those moments.

Finally, he hefts his weight against the door while twisting the knob and it busts open. A muffled snort escapes you from behind him. Carmen steps inside, holding the door open for you with a small wave of his hand. "Sorry. I'm sure this crap isn't what you were expecting when you applied here—"

He's rambling, stomach twisting in knots. His nerves always screw up his stomach—maybe he'll pop a few Tums before—

"It's fine, Camren," you assure him, stepping in from the cold, body pressing against his in the small entry way. "I like it here."

I like you.

"Yo, am I interrupting something, cousin? You and the princess wanna take that shit somewhere else?" Richie's shout can be heard from all the way across the parking lot, and it makes Carmen visibly cringe.

"Fuck off, cousin," Carmen mutters, reluctantly breaking away from you.

Still standing in the doorway, you huff, whatever moment you and Carmen had shared broken by Richie's arrival. The taller man stomps up the front steps, shaking snow from his boots.

So far, he had been the only staff member you found unbearable. Even Tina had warmed to you after a few weeks and now took great pleasure in listening to your elaborate stories as a private chef. Richie, on the other hand, hated your guts.

"You just gonna stand there and let all the fuckin' cold air in? I'll let Sugar know to take the heating outta your paycheck."

"Fuck off, Richie."

The morning is only the beginning of his wrath.

——

"Richie, you fucking imbecile—"

"Every single time you open your mouth, all I hear is this fuckin' bullshit. Jesus, you're so fuckin' high and mighty with your fancy ass college degree," he sneers, looming over you. If he stepped any closer you would have lacked the self control not to hit him. "You wanna come in here, act like you know everything because daddy sent you to school—"

"You don't have to fucking like me, Richie, but what you're not going to do is push me around and be an egotistical misogynist just because you have a set of balls. So give me my fucking knife."

Richie's hand is in the air beside your head, waving about in wild gesticulation that he does not have your knife, or any fucking knife for that matter. "I don't have your shit!"

With your jaw clenched together, you breathe in deeply through your nose and take in the taller man through narrowed, disbelieving eyes. "Fine." You turn on your heals and storm off. "CARMEN."

Richie throws his hands up and scoffs at your retreating back, yelling after you. "Ohh go ahead, fuckin' call mommy. Like I'm scared of him," he snorts.

"CARMEN!" Your fury only fueled by Richie's taunts, your stride quickens as you shove your way through the chaos of the kitchen, dodging both Sydney and Marcus.

"Woah, chef. What's the matter?" Sydney asks as you whip past her, her hands busy with mashing potatoes, but you don't stop to answer, instead rounding the corner like a woman on a mission.

"CARMEN—"

"—What?!" At the third sound of his name, Carmen finally jerks his head up from his prep station, only to be met with you head on. "What's going on, chef?" he repeats, looking back down to his station after taking in your vexed disposition and gathering that no one's dying. He puts on these sort of metaphorical blinders once he's in the kitchen and nothing, not even you, is going to distract him from what he does best. He becomes an entirely different animal in the kitchen.

"That fucking dickwad has my knife and he won't give it back. How am I supposed to—"

Still urgently chopping carrots, Carmen cuts you off. "Chef, just get another knife," he instructs, stepping around you to dump a pile of sliced carrots into the bin.

His dismissal throws you for a loop and leaves you open mouthed, protest caught in your throat. Just this morning he had been stuttering nervously, cheeks flushed as you stood waiting for him to unlock the staff door. Now he's biting and abrasive, domineering in the way he takes control of the kitchen. You know he's just doing his job, doing whatever it takes to keep his head above the water—keep everyone's head above the water, but right now you want to scream at him. "Just tell him to—"

"Yes, Chef," he provides, indicating that he's done refereeing yours and Richie's squabble. He moves across the station so that you have to step sideways to avoid being in his way.

"But I—"

"Yes, Chef?" Carmen effectively cuts you off with a hard stare, momentarily stopping his urgent chopping. His blue eyes are fixating despite their look of wild urgency.

When it becomes obvious that arguing your point further is going to get you nowhere, you nod, growling a reluctant, 'Yes, Chef.'

If Carmen notices your attitude, he either pointedly ignores it or is too busy shouting at Tina about onions to care. You grab a knife laid out at one of the empty stations, purposefully shoving Richie as you round the corner.

"What's the matter, sweetheart? Mommy didn't take your side?" he calls from the expo station "Didn't fuckin' see that coming."

You ignore him, deciding that he's not worth anymore of your energy for the time being. There's an entire rack of ribs that needs to be sliced and it's going to take you twice as long with this poor excuse of a knife.

"Chef, how are those ribs coming?" Sydney calls amidst the kitchen chaos. "Doors open in fifteen minutes."

Glancing at the digital kitchen clock, panic sets into you as you realize just how much time you've lost. "Fuck," you mutter, more to yourself than anyone. "Ahh—I'm going to need at least twenty," you shout back.

"What? What's taking so long?" Sydney asks. You can hear her moving behind you, finishing up with her own prep.

"Yeah, what's takin' so fuckin' long?" Richie chimes in.

Your grip on the knife's handle tightens, but you don't give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his words. "I'm working on it, Syd," you promise her, praying you can somehow speak that confidence into existence.

Richie is still running his mouth behind you. "Y'know, maybe you just aren't cut out for this. It's not too late to go back to makin' your fancy little hors d'oeuvres up in New York."

"Screw you, Richie," you mutter, your brow furrowed as you concentrate on cutting through the ribs. The knife is hardly cutting and it's taking everything in you not to just start hacking away and be done with it.

"This ain't a cocktail party. This is a real fuckin' business, and we don't need you over here messin' us up and screwin' around—"

"Screw. You. Richie."

"What was that? Can't hear you, princess," he taunts.

Just as you turn to open your mouth, ready to snap at him, the knife hits a dull spot and slips against your grip, catching your fingers along the way. Immediately you jerk your hand back, biting back a cry. The knife clatters to the ground at your feet.

"Fucking dammit!" you exclaim, clutching your bleeding fingers with your other hand.

"Oh now you've really fuckin' done it," Richie laughs, shaking his head.

You only glare at him before muttering, "Move," as you shove past him. To his credit, he doesn't say anymore as you shoulder him out of the way.

By the time you get to the back sink, there's blood seeping from between your gloved fingers and onto the floor. You have to fight back a whimper as you peal away the latex from your skin.

"Woah, woah— what the hell??"

Hands appear beside you, grabbing your own bloody hand and wrapping it tightly in a clean kitchen rag. You close your eyes, willing yourself not to faint. The pressure stings but serves to staunch the blood flow and relieve some of your dizziness.

When you open your eyes, Carmen's blue ones are staring at you worriedly. "You good, chef?"

You close your eyes again, this time not because you're dizzy, but rather to avoid the intensity of his stare. "Yeah," you manage hoarsely, finding your voice. "Yeah. Just bandage me up okay? I've still got prep to do."

Even with your eyes closed you can still feel his eyes on you. He's so close that you can feel the brush of his body against yours.

"Yeah, okay," he finally says, but you can hear the hesitation in his voice. Immediate loss fills your body as he pulls away, but then he's pressed up against you again, holding your fingers steady as he wraps them up.

It hurts and you want so badly to just let go of the cry of pain and frustration that you're holding back. But instead you bite the inside of your cheek and watch Carmen bandage your fingers like he's done it a hundred times before. When he's done, he draws your hand up to his mouth and tears the tape with his teeth. You force back a swallow when his lips brush your skin.

"This okay, Chef?" he asks, looking up at you with those ridiculously anxious blue eyes—anxious like he's always got somewhere to be, something to do, something on his mind. Now they're focused entirely on you.

Somehow you find your voice. "Y-yeah—yeah, thank you." You pause, still staring at him, not moving. "I, um—I should go finish prep..."

"Okay," he answers softly.

"Okay."

"—Hey." Before you turn to slip out of his office, Carmen calls after you. He raises a fist to his chest, tracing it clockwise over his heart.

I'm sorry.

Your brows furrow at his apology. "Carmen, it wasn't your—"

"Yes. It was," he clarifies, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans back against the desk. "I blew you off earlier and you got hurt because of it... So I'm sorry."

From the doorframe, you offer him a half smile.

"Apology accepted, Chef." And then you leave him before he can say anymore, slipping back out into the chaos of rush hour.

——

You do end up finishing you prep before opening. Your fingers hurt like a bitch, and you may need to visit a 24 hour clinic on your way home for a few stitches, but you make it though. Rush hour was hell, your head hurts from both screaming and being screamed at, but now the Beef is closed, the kitchen is quiet, and you can just breathe.

Slowly but surely, everyone files out of the kitchen once they finish their end of the day tasks, bidding you goodbyes and see you tomorrows as they leave—except for Richie, who you flip off once his back is turned.

The bell above the front door chimes, announcing Tina's departure, and then it's just you left tending to your station. Sydney had offered to take care of it for you, seeing as you were down a hand, but cleaning your space at the end of the day gives you peace of mind and time to cool down after all the chaos.

At some point, the lights in the back office click off and heavy foot steps make their way towards the kitchen. Carmen appears beside you, arms crossed as he watches you clean. He's quiet, observing the way you scrub the already pristine table top over and over and over. You don't learn that kind of precision from working in a place like this.

You're an anomaly to him and he doesn't know what to do with you

You certainly don't fit in here with your perfectly refined private school vocabulary and your Michelin star palette and your fucking expensive gold chain necklace that's probably worth more than the rent for his apartment.

"What're you doing here?" he finally asks.

"Wiping my station?" Your voice is leaning on the defensive side and he figures that probably has to do with Richie.

"Exactly," he concedes. "So what are you doing here? Because six months ago you were making fuckin' soufflés in the Hamptons."

This time you actually kind of laugh because that statement is not too far off from the truth. "I don't know, Carmen. I was bored?"

"You don't give up the Hamptons because you're bored."

You look up at him for the first time since he's walked up. There's no bristling anger in your eyes like there was earlier when Richie took your knife—he did and you both know it. You just look at him, really look at him, and then you set down the rag and you nod. "Just like you don't give up Noma?"

Carmen holds your heavy gaze for a while. It's as if some sort of unspoken understanding passes between the two of you and eventually he sighs, nodding. "Right."

You look around at the restaurant surrounding you, the stained floors, the rundown kitchen appliances, the framed 'let it rip' note. "Natalie, uh she told me about him—Micheal... I'm really sorry. He seemed like a good guy."

His eyes follow yours to the note, and he doesn't say anything for a minute, which isn't unusual, Carmen has always been decently shy since you met him, but it makes you wonder if it was a mistake bringing it up.

Strangely enough, this is the first time that someone's brought up Michael and he hasn't wanted to slam a door in their face. Normally, he would just nod and say something like, 'yeah, he was a good guy' and that would be his way of wiggling out of another unwelcome conversation, but he doesn't. Instead, he stares at the note and wonders for the first time since Micheal died if he should have gone to the funeral.

It made him feel like a fucking asshole for not going, but he couldn't listen to all those people saying how good it was to have him back—how happy Micheal would have been to have him back—because if Micheal hadn't gone and killed himself, he wouldn't be here anyhow. He'd still be in New York. He'd still be angry at Micheal like he is now.

Carmen sighs. "I—I wish that I had talked to him more instead of just fucking off to New York. Because after that I just hated coming back too all of this... y'know? And then it was like even when I was here, he kinda just knew that I didn't want to be here, and so we spent that time just fuckin'... at each other's throats.." He trails off, sniffing to clear the choked up feeling from his throat. "Just—who the fuck does that?"

He's asking you. Who shoots themself and doesn't even leave a note? Who shoots themself and leaves their little brother to pick up the remains of their shithole restaurant?

"Well," you begin, laughing a little at the absurdity of it all. "You're talking to a girl who decided to quit her job after three years as a private chef and is now slicing spare ribs in Chicago for just over minimum wage."

The unseriousness of the confession makes him crack a smile and now he's fighting a grin off of his face. "Yeah, that was uh..." He's still chuckling, shaking his head. "That was really stupid of you. Why would you do that?"

You're fighting a smile too now, heart pumping in your chest because he's really fucking pretty when he laughs. His cheeks are flushed and his curly hair is a disheveled mess and you just want to reach over and smooth a hand through it.

Your tongue wets your bottom lip and his blue eyes don't miss the nervous habit. "Well, there's this guy..."

"Yeah?" Carmen's smiling, the tired expression on his face softened by the twinkle in his eyes.

"Yeah, there's this guy. And I've looked up to him my entire life. He's brilliant—like really fucking brilliant. And I promised myself that if I ever got the opportunity to work for him, I would do it."

Carmen snorts softly, glancing down at the white tile floor a bit bashfully before looking back to you again. "And now you know what a freaking psycho I am, huh?"

You can see it, him retreating back into the mellow, unsure person he becomes when he's not manning an overflowing expo station, a broken freezer, and an entire staff of chefs. It's endearing how timid he is, like he almost doesn't really know himself or how he fits in anywhere outside the kitchen. "I don't think you're a psycho, Carm. I mean, I would be a little crazy too if I had what you have on my plate."

He just nods, still a little sheepish at your praise. Just like this morning, when you had caught him at the back door before opening, he doesn't know what to do with himself when you're around.

You break the silence by turning back towards your station. "I'm going to finish up here. I don't mind locking up if you don't want to stay."

Carmen watches as you lean forward onto the toes of your beat up sneakers to grab the paper towels off the overhead shelf and the hem of your hand cropped t-shirt rides up. His first instinct is to look away because the exposed flesh of your rib cage feels like something he shouldn't be seeing, much less staring at, but it's like he freezes out of panic and now he's looking at the tattoo just under your breast.

He stands there, mouth partially open to reply back to you, but it's like his tongue is numb in his mouth and he doesn't even remember what he was going to say anymore. And then it's gone, concealed again by the hem of your white t-shirt.

When you walked into the Beef two weeks ago, your tattoos had been strangely surprising to him at first. He hadn't pictured you like that in his mind—bronzed skin and tatted forearms and cherry glossed lips—just grunge enough to make anyone who passes you look twice. Now you're all he thinks about.

"Carmy. Carmy?"

You're staring at him, head cocked to the side, brows furrowed in confusion and—God, he wants to kiss you.

"Are you oka—"

"Can I kiss you?" He blurts out the question as if he won't be able to finish it if he doesn't get it all out in one breath. Like he knows that if he doesn't ask now he's never going to have the courage to do it again, and he'll be stuck shoving down these feelings for you for the rest of his life.

When you stare at him, eyes wide, like a deer in the headlights, he knows he screwed up. His stomach drops and—fuck, he really needs a Tums right now. He looks away, hand reaching to his hair, eyes darting to the ceiling because he can't take the embarrassment of looking at you.

"I—fuck, I'm sorry. That was totally—um. I shouldn't have—"

"Shut up, Carmen."

"No, that was stupid of me. I—"

"Shut up so I can kiss you, you moron."

Stepping forward, your hand curls around the back of his neck, drawing him down to close the gap between the two of you. Even then you have to stand on your toes to reach him. Although the tense, anticipatory stiffness of his body against yours is screaming wait, you press your lips to his before he has the chance to back down.

It's everything that a first kiss should be—hot and sweet and a bit awkwardly reserved. You can tell he’s nervous. Nevertheless, you can't help the hum that escapes you at the feeling of his plush bottom lip pressed between your own. If given the choice, you’d never pull away from the warm taste of his mouth.

Carmen's breathing heavy, heart pounding in his chest, hand pressing into your back, pulling you closer as he kisses you impossibly harder. He's never kissed a girl before and he decides then and there that he never wants to kiss any girl that's not you.

It’s not clear which of you pulls away first—coming up for air more than anything—but it leaves you both nose to nose, mouths still inches from each other, still sharing the same air that you would had your mouths been connected.

“Carmen?” you ask softly, nose brushing his as you speak. You can feel his heart beating against his chest.

“Yeah?” he replies in same breathy tone.

“Did I mention I really like it here?”