#like even though i was wearing a skirt on our date it was with a t shirt

[steampunkedparm]

"of course you have carabiner's."

yeah??? how else am i supposed to hold my keys?????

[whoreforlarrystuff]

I have a date in 20 minutes at the beach, and I’ve never been more nervous 😬

[slutspinks]

obsessed — logan howlet

synopsis what started as a normal crush, developed into sweet obsession.

this fic contains: stalking, obsessive!logan, usual shit from wade but he is a bit serious here, fem!reader, stealing, home breaking?, foul language, m masturbation. logan acts like a a real perv.

author's note: sometimes, I wonder what’s wrong with me. I can’t believe I wrote a whole fic of logan jerking off to your panties. this is just a quick one shot, I think, not a whole fic. basically I resumed what could’ve been a 5k word story to less than 1K word— maybe I’ll write a second part where you fuck.

Lately, Logan has been thinking.

Thinking about you, Wade’s sweet childhood friend who lives next door.

And thinking about the way your footsteps echoed down the hall whenever you were off to work— your heels clicking with a slow pace and sometimes a bit more rushed because you were running late. His eyes would linger in the humidity spot in the living room ceiling, trying to conceive a picture of what were you wearing that day, even though he knew the answer already. Every day, you wore the same pencil skirt with a satin white shirt— except for Friday’s, that day you always wore dark grey pants. He knew because he followed you to work and back home, taking care of you.

He also could remember the way you’d look at him whenever Wade invited you over, you considered him your friend, even if everything you knew was a mask he put on so you wouldn’t notice what was really happening to him.

He wasn’t soft, not even a bit. But since the first time he met you, he decided he didn’t want you to see him with his usual brooding and grumpy self.

And that’s why he would help carry your groceries inside home, checking up on your pet cat and also watering your plants whenever you were away at your grandmas house for the weekend. He wanted to seem good and kind. That’s why he didn’t complain when you’d drag him and Wade to some rerun of your favorite movies— even if he didn’t like being around Wade in closed spaces.

His roommate’s footsteps distracted him from his train of thought about you, his usual witty remarks weren’t funny anymore and instead caused Logan’s head to throb at every word.

“… And then the asshole turned around and said, I’m gonna take her on a date! How dares he?- I mean sweet (y/n) definitely wouldn’t date that horrible imitation of Nick Cage”, Wade said, his hands taking a spoon and a bowl, opening the cupboard and taking out the cereal box and milk. Logan’s ears perked up to that, Who wanted to date you? After a few minutes later, he dared to ask.

“W-what did you just say?”, he asked, his hands lifting the spare blanket off his body. Wade’s non-existent eyebrow raised, “That I haven’t gone to the bathroom all week?”.

“No, idiot. You say somethin’ about a date and (y/n)?”, he grunted.

Wade smiled, milk spilling from the corners of his mouth, “Oh, pretty (y/n) is a heartbreaker, she’s rejected all the guys at work. They’re all assholes, but hear me out, that Nick Cage low-budget-imitation dude sure wants to get in her pants— or should I say skirt?— Don’t care, he just wants a taste of our sweet (y/n)”.

Logan groaned and got up, walking to the cupboard of the kitchen and taking a bourbon bottle, drinking a big gulp. Wade whistled, eyes wide and a teasing smirk on his lips, “You sure are a thirsty honey badger”.

“Fuck off”, Logan said.

Wade gave a sigh, leaving the spoon rest in his bowl, “Peanut, I know you like my sweet girl— just admit it. Carrying groceries, watering plants, taking care of her fucking cat!- Hell, you even fixed her plumbing. You don’t do shit here, but you’re trying to get on her good side aren’t ya?”.

Logan couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit ashamed, yes he wanted to get on your good side by doing charity work and Wade wasn’t dumb. If he was that good deciphering, then he surely knew about the missing things from your apartment were his doing— misplaced underwear, cups and shirts.

Wade sighed, giving Logan a serious glare “Look, I know you want to get laid and I understand— you’re like two-hundred years old and probably haven’t fucked in decades, but don’t hurt her, she’s my only friend”.

Logan chuckled bitterly, shaking his head, “She’s not even interested in me, bub”.

Wade rolled his eyes, “You’re so fucking dumb— she comes every Friday night to eat pizza and watch cringey rom-coms with us, she usually never came around much because she was always tired with work so I crashed at her place, but all of a sudden she wants to be here every. fucking. Friday. Explain that, idiot”.

He tastes Wade’s words cautiously, all this time he’s been harboring a crush he thought wasn’t reciprocal— he just knew you could not fall for an old man like him, you were young and very intelligent, so his little fantasies had to be just that, fantasies.

But Wade was igniting something he shouldn’t, he was giving Logan hope that maybe, a sweet girl like you, could fall for him.

It all got worse.

Logan spent more time snooping around your apartment than on his own— or well shared one— he just couldn’t help it anymore.

His dark hoodie covered the imminent guilt slowly creeping through him, a thin silk pink pantie around his fingers and your apartment’s key heavy on his jeans front pocket. Breaking into your apartment was an easy task, you weren’t home and you asked him to come and check on things as usual saying how much you loved your plants and cat but weren’t able to take them with you, so he acted good.

He promised to take care of them.

When you weren’t here, he’d invite himself in with the copy of your key— trying to get rid of the guilt feeling on his bones whenever you’d look at him with sparkling eyes, extending your own keys with eagerness every Saturday.

Hopefully, that guy at the office already got over you, if the multiple threats Logan made worked.

Today was Thursday, just another day until you crashed at Wade’s and Logan could finally see you. Another day where he’d lie about his whereabouts, saying something about taking Laura to swimming lessons on Wednesdays and his new fake job at this repair shop taking too much time any other day of the week.

“Where have you been, Peanut?”, Wade asks the moment Logan steps through the door, his hands resting inside his hoodie pocket.

“Watering plants”, he shortly responds, moving across the room to the kitchen, his eyes falling on yours and then to the bowls filled with popcorn and candies.

“Hey, Lo”, you greeted with a smile, his heart skipping a beat.

“What are you doing here? ‘S not Friday yet”, he asked, his clammy fingers rubbing against the fabric hidden in his pocket.

“Oh I know! But Wade was insisting I should come and check this rom-com with Nicholas Cage— Are you taking care of other apartments?”, you asked, your eyes traveling across his rigid form and parted lips.

“Uhm no”, he let out. You furrowed your brows but nodded, deciding to not say anything.

“Oh, if it’s difficult for you to check on mine’s alright, I can always ask Wade or Mr. Johnson”, your sweet voice reassured, a tent forming in his jeans. He quickly shook his head no, “Don’t worry, yours is the only one”.

After changing his clothes and hiding your panties deep inside his jeans back pocket, he finally relaxed and watched the movie— his arms stayed the whole time on the couch’s rest, hands playing with your soft hair every now and then. When you left, he waited until Wade stopped his usual rambling before going to his spot on the couch. Listening to Wade’s snores through the walls after a few minutes.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you, his body was restless, changing positions every three seconds. Then he finally stopped, his eyes glueing to the ceiling his jeans constricting his aching erection.

Freeing it from its confinement, his hand took it in a tight grip, squeezing and thumb moving to the head, wiping the precum drop that gathered there. It felt hard as steel, his hand squeezing a bit tighter moving up and down slowly. He didn’t think he’d last, he’s been horny since a few weeks ago, but these last few days, he felt he could explode just by looking at you. All the blood running south the moment his eyes stopped on your work attire, your ass shaped perfectly.

He could almost imagine the softness of your skin under his hands, the way your chest would heave up and down with every touch— he wasn’t even a bit ashamed.

He also couldn’t feel ashamed of the way his nostrils inhaled your scent— your stolen panties on his left hand while his right one jerked his dick off.

He was close, so close…

At the same time, his mind conjured a sweet illusion. Your finger working on your clit and pretty tits moving up and down at the same time your breath came out ragged.

Moving the blanket out of the way, the air hit his hot shaft, making a shiver creep but disappearing as soon as he came.

With your panties in hand, he cleaned all the mess.

[ellabscrush]

— play with my pussy, not my heart.

a/n; this has been an idea in my head for awhile but kept scrapping it, hopefully this is alr. btw my requests are opennn.

𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫!𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

cw; smut, mdni, fingering, reader has a nervous habit that might triggering, dom!reader, flirting, language, slap kink once, arguing, abby is a dick here lol, trust issues, angst?? lmk if i missed any!!

sypnosis; your well known girlfriend who has a reputation of being a player finally decides to settle into a serious relationship with you. aware of your girlfriend’s past, abby’s project partner comes to intervene with your thoughts & worries. back and forth arguing isn’t going anywhere, you had to show her other ways on who not to mess with.

— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —

“it’s just a small study sesh baby, nat even agreed to do it at our apartment!” abby walks towards you as she hovers over, “so no need to worry, ‘kay?”

she caresses your face and pecked your lips.

nat, aka natasha ferreira, is apart of western university’s dance team. you’ve seen her around before wearing white flowy skirts and layered jewelry. you once heard her talking about how her parents got a brand new bmw for her quinceañera.

i guess there was nothing to hate about her, other than the fact she is gorgeous and very talented with her dancing. this was just another one of your stupid overthinking.. right?

“okay abs.. thank you,” you gave her a soft smile.

“that’s my best girl.”

besides, trust was the thing you both had been working on these past months. dating abby was going to be a challenge. you knew it and your friends knew it. though they weren’t too supportive with her intentions at first, you were convinced abby could change her acts if she reallyy tried.

three knocks suddenly interrupted your little conversation. abby sprinted to the door and opens it to find a joyful figure in front of her.

nat gasps, “abby! this is my first time seeing you outside of uni,” she smiles with excitement.

abby smiled back and leaned for a hug, leaving you to stare at them with a lump of jealousy in your throat.

— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —

one minute you were next to abby, and then the second the brunette is touching forearms besides her with those stupid doe eyes, glossed lips, and weirdly seductive black platform heels. god she’s annoying.

“your handwriting is shit!” the brunette teased, giggling as she leans to abby.

“yeah?” your girlfriend chuckles, “this is what you get for choosing me as your partner.”

nat shrugs, “well then i can deal with it.”

you tried so hard to not be bitter. really you did. but each time you glance at the two across the kitchen island, you swore the both of them were doing this shit on purpose.

sudden eye contacts with you everytime they laughed together, unrelated conversations, and some flirty remarks. oh, and not to mention the obvious footsies that was happening under the table. like you can literally see it.

“fuck me..” you muttered.

“what’s that princess?” abby asks you, the nickname made nat changed her demeanor quickly.

you turned back to meet nat’s eyes, then to abby, and back to nat.

“nothin’ love,” you put a convincing smile.

three hours long night full of giggling and jokes you didn’t even get later on.. you find yourself yelling back and forth in your shared bedroom with abby who literally couldn’t understand where you were coming from.

abby groans, “goddamnit we talked about this!”

“i never did anything to her, you were literally infront of us,” she raised her voice.

“abs, she deadass rubbed her foot on your leg multiple times and leaned to you everytime you both laughed..”you went on, getting more frustrated by the minute.

“well.. we’re just having a little fun, is that romantic to you?” abby asks with her hand crossed to her chest, her facial expression screams ‘you’re being crazy.’

you were exhausted trying to find ways to communicate without bringing up abby’s past, like you both agreed to. however, your concerns shouldn’t supposed to end in argument. you shook your head, letting out a long sigh and sat on the edge of the bed.

“i- i don’t know abby,” you stammered, “i guess it is romantic when they do the things i do to you.. since i am yours.”

you gazed down at your feet with teary eyes while unaware as you were digging your nails into your thighs. this was a nervous habit of yours in which you don’t realize you have been doing it for so long. your girlfriend, however, does.

she slowly walks closer to the edge of the bed and kneeled down to your eye level.

“you are mine.” her voice sounding more reassuring and softer like you could faint at that moment.

“i thought you could’ve been better for me..” you sniffled

abby panicks once she realizes you were crying, “baby no.. fuck i’m trying..”

“trying?” you looked up.

the blonde sighs, “will. i will be better.”

she moved your hands from your thighs with one hand, while other pushes your head closer to hers for a deep kiss. more so, a sloppy one. she wipes your cheeks and the kisses started from sweet, to mean in a heartbeat. abby stroked you waist, making you clench you thighs together.

abby smirks, “you turned on princess?” she asks and you just whimpered in response, “fuck.. i gotta wake up early tomorrow.”

knowing your girlfriend has plans tomorrow morning, this sparked an idea in your head. abby can become a submissive mess when you’re in charge. so you decide to show her other ways who not to play with, and whose pussy she can only play with!

“so?” you replied in between kisses, “don’t want me to scream your name tonight?”

.. besides, making her miss out a big free brunch with her friends the next day will be an added punishment you thought.

the blonde smiles and throws you to the middle of the bed, causing you to squeal from the unexpected move. abby aggressively pulls down your shorts and underwear. your wet slick was ready for her.

“look at you all ready for me,” she circles her thumb on your lips slowly, “gotta fuck that jealousy out quick or else i’ll be late tomorrow, princess.”

you smiled maliciously in response as you bite your lip. abby then shoves her two fingers inside your mouth, “open.”

she pumps her ring and middle finger in and out. being all soaked in your drool making it wet enough to fit in your pussy. the sounds of your whimpers made her go crazy. you shut your eyes feeling abby’s cold, drenched fingers sliding inside.

your body shuttered, “s-shit baby..”

the sounds of your wet pussy is practically making abby drool.

“feels so fuckin’ good, keep going,” you ordered keeping a strong eye contact with the blonde, “just like that..”

“that fucking pussy,” abby whispers, you licked your lips looking down at her fat fingers going in and out, “you needy whore,” she degrades.

her words were like fire and heaven at the same time. you wouldn’t be so pissed off at her if she hadn’t let nat be all over her for three hours straight. now it’s your job to remind her whose pussy she can fuck. and the only one.

you let out an airy laugh, “i’m the whore hm? atleast i wasn’t flirting with another bitch,” she looks up at your face. you were trying to keep your composure while being mercilessly fucked.

you sat yourself up with elbows on the mattress, “you proud of yourself huh?” just inches away from her stupid smirk.

“faster,” you demanded.

she curled her fingers inside of you, hitting your g spot like a pro. you can help but let out a moan and rocked your hips in rhythm. that smirk of hets turned to an amazed expression once she hears your juices sloshing around.

“fuck baby,” abby was practically drenched under her pjs wanting to taste you, “p-please need to taste you.”

“nuh uh, you’re being mean all day. you don’t, f-fuck, deserve me.”

abby was desperate just by hearing you speak like this. you’re such an angel around her normally, like when she first met you, you were different than the other girls she had met before. she fell for you. but damn that mouth of yours was killer in bed.

the rare times you controlled her was only when you were pissed off at your girlfriend for the amount of disrespectful flirting that was happening in front of you, or not giving you updates on what she’s doing with her girl friends. however, you can’t blame yourself for having mixed trust issues knowing how many girlfriends abby has had.

maybe you’ve been too patient with her? letting shit go so easily?

“shit- c’mere” you groaned and kissed her viciously at the thought of her fucking another girl. one hand around her neck while the other grips her loose hair.

“mmm, keep going..” you moaned in her mouth.

abby rubs your clit, feeling your juices squirting all over her thighs, “p-please baby.. lemme clean you up” she begs to lick your folds but you resisted.

you slapped her cheek, her needy face turning red.

“shut up,” you growled, “better stop messing around.. i deserve fuckin’ better.”

abby whimpers, putting her head back in frustration. she then looks down to see you, a dripping pussy drunk mess. her fingers were sticky and all tired. however, she’s not stopping until she screams your name.

“atleast say my name when you cum,” she pleaded, “please.”

her voice made you feel every type of way. your thighs starting to heat up, a familiar feeling as you have had fucked yourself with the thought of her in the past. pounding noises as you thrust your hips on to her fingers harder puts many heated scenes in your head.

“abby.. oh my god- m’ fucking cumming..”

“that’s my girl, ride daddy’s dick,” she encourages you.

an orgasm was washing over you, “abby you’re mine. fuck- ah-“ you burried your face in the crooks of her neck.

“all yours baby, i’m sorry.” she kissed all over your shoulder, genuinely feeling bad that she didn’t give you the reassurance you wanted earlier.

“abs- fuckfuckfuck,” you screamed out, screaming her name loud enough the apartment below could hear you, “i hate you so much..”

“i love you princess.. love it when i make you cum..” she admits. your legs shaking like crazy, feeling overstimulated.

you know how that goes..

once you orgasmed, you let abby suck her fingers, tasting every bit of yourself. and just like that, you were laying down with a fast pounding in your chest. she caresses your stomach and kissed all over your body, still needing to feel you more. but knew you needed her the most.

“hey, you okay?” she asked softly, looking at your sleepy eyes. she just wanted the both of you to be good. “i’m fine.. just a little tired. i feel like you don’t know how badly it hurts me to see you purposely being all over people like that.”

abby sighs, knowing she fucked up. she didn’t want to be that person anymore. she loved you, really, but her actions just aren’t the thinkable. you both sleep skin to skin while she stays up to watch you fall deep in your sleep.

“i love you, angel.” she whispers. feeling all the guilt in her chest, your girlfriend pulls you in closer.

of course, she had to make it up to you the next day so she cancelled all plans. it’s not like she got up in time anyway.

well now you both know she won’t ever be doing that shit again.

— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —

[rainydayathogwarts]

Can I get a obsessed Jennifer check smut? Possibly with a strap she uses the female reader maybe some tribbing?

I took this idea and just made it next level, I hope you still like what I did with it.

wc: 2.7k

Warnings: mentality that being popular is important, smut, naked photos, strap-on, toxic Jennifer (obvi)

It wasn't your fault that Jennifer was attracted to you. And if you were being completely honest, you had no idea that she was in the first place. You thought the gentle shoulder touches in the hallway and friendly fashion tips were just that. Friendly.

You thought you were finally getting the high school upgrade you deserved, and were close to becoming in the top most important girls in the school. It wasn't that you weren't, it was just for different reasons than you thought.

Jennifer, on the other hand, was desperately trying, day by day, to not scare you away by finding out that she was obsessed with you. That she had a mind as perverted as every single other teenage boy in the school. She imagined what your bare tits would look like, and if you'd let her take a photo of them if she asked nicely. She dreamt of having you sit nicely between her legs in bed while she played with your pretty pussy, and wondered if you'd try to keep your focus on the movie playing or if you'd completely forget about it and beg her to fuck you harder.

At night, she wrote in her diary while kicking her feet at the thought of being with you, and how amazing it'd be if you liked her back. And if you didn't, blackmail was always easy.

In her free period, she tried guessing the combination to your locker, and whenever she was over at yours and you were in a different room, she snooped around to see if you had a diary too.

Sometimes, if you were taking a shower, she even went to the lengths of going through your underwear drawer, and stared with an open jaw at how much bigger your bras were than hers. She started to play a little game by herself, see when you'd notice; she'd put a pair of her underwear in your drawer, and take one of yours. She liked to wear your stolen underwear when she touched herself to the thought of you, or take pretty photos of herself in them.

There was another, unhealthier side of this obsession with you though, she got jealous. Upon becoming closer friends with Jennifer, you dated a lot less guys, who she claimed all 'probably had a small dick' or were 'too ugly for you'.

She was also mean to some of your old girl friends, scoffing at them and telling you things like "I can't imagine you were friends with them." So ultimately, you were unmotivated to hang out with them at all anymore. Not that you were to complain about it, because that meant you became just as popular as Jennifer. Some mean cheerleaders never dared to look your way, and you always got your way with people now. Someone's in your seat? Give them a look and it's yours again. Don't have any lunch money? Someone will always volunteer to buy you some.

Since you were a cheerleader along with Jennifer, you always drove home with her after practice for your usual girl's night, though she always invited Needy to come over way later than when you got to her's. Jennifer claimed it was because the changing rooms were too dirty and you'd both just have to shower at her's.

Whenever you were in the shower, she went through your phone, saw who you were texting, and one night, she came up with a plan.

"Hey you." Said Jennifer, opening her arms wide for a hug. You jogged over to her, hugging her tightly. When you separated, Jennifer's hands still lingered on your waist, and she wrapped one arm around you to walk into the changing rooms together. You both changed into your cheer uniform, Jennifer staring at every exposed area of your skin possible. You were wearing a purple thong with a matching purple bra, her favourite colour. "You see, it matches with our uniform." You spoke, holding up your skirt.

Jennifer giggled, coming closer to you. How had she changed so quickly? She put her hands on your waist, pressing her front into your back, and taking the skirt from your hands. "Get dressed, I can't be late." You rolled your eyes at her jokingly. "Oh right, cheer captain are you? I just always forget." Jennifer raises her brows at you and you both start giggling. Once you're finally dressed, you open your mouth to make another joke, but a harsh slap on your ass has you closing your mouth. "Ouch!"

Jennifer winks at you, cocking her head towards the door, and you obediently follow her out onto the pitch, where conveniently enough, the football team starts warming up too. "We both have practice today?" You ask, eyes stuck on a certain uniformed boy. "Mhmm" Hums Jennifer, eyeing you.

Her plan was already starting to work.

"You were distracted at practice today." You look up at her from where you're sitting on her bed, fresh out of the shower, and you immediately blush. "Mhm what-" "Y/n don't try to be ditzy with me, I basically taught you that." You shut your mouth, trying to find an escape. "Look, this is your next lesson for girlhood. What I do sometimes, I take some nice photos of myself and give it to him with a little note." "But I already have nice photos." You complain, and it's only when you see the look on her face that your jaw drops. "Oh... Do you think - maybe you could help me with that?"

Jennifer grins, immediately making her way over to where you sat on her bed. She straddles your hips, her hands immediately coming up to the zipper of your Juicy jacket, which she pulls down half-way, so your breasts are almost fully exposed in your bra. She places her hands on your boobs, squeezing them together slightly, before climbing off you and grabbing her camera, not taking notice to the way your face flushes a dark red.

"So we take the photos, print them, choose one, write a note on the back, and give it to him." She climbs back on your laps and snaps her camera for the first time that night. "How many do we need to take?" You ask "Well we need to have a variety." Jen says, her hands unzipping your jacket all the way down, before tugging it down your arms.

You let her.

You look down at your tits, a hand going up to adjust them in your lacy bra, but Jennifer beats you to it, cupping one in her hand to make it look perkier in your bra before doing the same with your other one. Your nipples harden and you blush, but Jennifer seemingly pays no attention to it, instead brushing some hair over your shoulder before she snaps a few more photos. "Do you want to take your shorts off for me?" She says, looking at the photos on the camera.

You gulp, shimmying out of your matching pink shorts. Jennifer looks up at you, shaking her head. "Let's find a pair of underwear to match your bra." You follow her to her closet, where she kneels on the floor, looking over her shoulder as she rummages through the options. "What about those?" You ask, pointing at a pair of white lacy underwear that looks strangely like an old pair you can't seem to find. Jennifer freezes for a moment before taking them out, shaking her head to herself.

She turns to you, still kneeling, and taps your leg a couple of times. "Come on then, take it off." You freeze. "What, here?" Jennifer raises her eyebrows at you. "We're both girls y/n, I know what a pussy looks like." You blush, nodding and push your panties down your legs, waiting for Jennifer to give you the other pair. You look away, not thinking much of anything, unaware of the fact that Jennifer is staring at your cunt, wishing she could taste it in that moment.

When she realises she's staring, she pretends she's been trying to get your attention for a while. "Helloo? Y/n." When you look back at her, she is holding the panties in a way that you can just step into them. "Oops, sorry." She pulls them up your legs, snapping the elastic against your skin, before grabbing your hips and turning you around. "Okay, let's see." You feel yourself blush harder as Jennifer stares at your ass and pulls the panties higher so that it wedges itself between your cheeks.

"Perf." She says, dragging you back to her bed. "Right, so sit like this-" She kneels on the bed, her legs spread, and arms pushing her tits up. "Can you do that for me?" You nod, getting into that position, and in that moment you wonder where Needy is and if you really want to give a guy a half naked photo of you. Jennifer walks up to you, looking as though she wants to fix your hair, but she pinches your nipples, causing you bite back a moan, and you watch her as she waits for your nipples to harden even more.

You let her take the photos, for the fun of it. What best friends haven't taken naked photos of each other? You love photo shoots anyway so there was no harm. "Do you think we should have one from the back?" You ask "Guys like that." Jen grins, nodding at you, and you get on your forearms and knees, arching your back.

"Yes, just like that." Says Jennifer, a single hand caressing your backside. You feel the bed dip beside you, where she put the camera down, and you feel her second hand come up to squeeze your ass. "You know what I think?" Jen starts, and you hum in acknowledgement. "You might not like it, but I think it's worth a try." She continues.

"You know I'd do anything for you Jen." You only half joke.

When you hear her idea your jaw drops, and you need a moment to process it. Of course, you agree, stripping down until you're stood naked in your best friend's bedroom. You're thankful her curtains are closed and Needy didn't show up to girl's night. You look at Jennifer, tightening her strap-on on top of her panties, but you can't help but be disappointed she doesn't take her jacket off. You kneel on the floor as Jennifer walks towards you, and you pray that you don't start to drip on her carpet.

Jennifer stands right in front of you, her purple strap-on right in front of you. "I-won't this get in the way of the photo?" You ask, tugging on her jacket. "What are you trying to get me naked or something?" Jennifer jokes, she takes it off nonetheless, handing you the camera. You swear she can hear your heart beating louder. She's not wearing a bra underneath.

"Okay, let's do this baby." She encourages, taking the camera back from you. You flip your hair over your shoulder, leaning in closer to take the strap in your mouth, sucking like you normally would. Jennifer starts to thrust her hips along with your movement and you gag, tears starting to form. That's when the camera goes off. She takes a few photos, then throws the camera onto her bed, her hand gathering your hair into a ponytail, and she pulls you off the strap.

"Okay, now how about you get on the bed?" Jennifer says, testing these new waters with you. You start to get up, and she helps you up, before pushing you harshly so you land on you bed. She follows you as you crawl up her bed, watching your dripping cunt, and she grabs your hips before turning you around, so you lay flat on your back.

She throws a leg over one of your thighs and immediately slams her lips onto yours. You moan loudly, hands reaching up the grab anything, landing on her hips. She pulls away, kissing and biting your neck instead, enjoying the sound of your whimpers. She continues to kiss down your body, playing with your tits, pinching your nipples and pushing them together as she licks around them.

She takes one of your nipples in her mouth and she starts to suck, her hips beginning to grind against your thigh. Why didn't you do this sooner? Once Jennifer reaches your pussy, she pulls away, just staring at you all laid out for her. She spreads your folds with two fingers, watching as your juices drip onto her sheets. She runs a finger up from your hole to your clit and brings it up to her mouth, humming loudly.

You whine, bucking your hips up, and Jennifer's gaze goes back to your face. "What do we say when we want something?" She asks, a finger tracing shapes on your thigh. "Please! Please Jen." You beg. She grins, one handing coming down to slap your clit and you cry out, trying to close your legs, but Jennifer keeps them open around her.

She holds the strap-on, cruelly teasing your entrance with it, before she sinks it in your core. You moan loudly and Jennifer smirks, immediately setting an unforgiving pace. "Yes, let me hear you baby. Come on." You whine at her demand, trying to reach up to her, but give up. She grins from her place on the bed, moving her grip over from your hips so that she can put each of her hands next to your head, so she can now hover over you while slamming her hips into you. You can't control your moans, head digging into the pillow behind you, barely keeping your eyes open.

Jennifer's tits jiggle above you as she thrusts into you over and over again, and you grab one of them, pinching her nipple in return and she moans loudly. She comes down to kiss you, now leaning on her forearms, and slowing down so she can grind the strap into you instead, hitting a new spot from that angle. Her tongue forces itself into your mouth and one of her hands grabs your jaw so she can dominate every aspect of the kiss.

Jennifer grabs one of your thighs, pushing it as far to the side as she can so she can hit a new spot inside you, grinding her hips into yours quickly, so the base of the strap rubs against your clit. "Fuck! Jen! I need to-" You sob, trying to buck your hips into Jennifer against her hold, but it's impossible. She removes her hand from your thigh so she can play with your tits, and the second she pinches your nipple again, you're crying her name out as you orgasm, back arching against her.

She doesn't let you ride out your orgasm because she's pulling out and flipping you onto your stomach so she can pound into you from the back, watching as your ass jiggles from the force of each thrust. Jennifer moans, one hand smacking your backside again before both her hands plant themselves on the bed to help her quicken her speed. Your legs are trembling at the prologued orgasm - or a second one, it feels so good you can't tell which it is. "Please, I can't- I can't"

Jennifer slows down, admiring the red marks on your ass from where her hips were pounding against you until she comes to a stop. She sits back on her knees, lets you catch your breath, and stop crying. Both her hands come up to massage your ass, and she leans down to press a kiss to it.

When she finally pulls out, she moves the sit next to you, helping to flip you on your back, grinning at the way your legs still tremble. She helps you sit up, your back leaning against her front while she continues to play with your tits. "How was that babe?" She asks and you nod, beginning to giggle at the situation. Jennifer leans in to kiss you and you put a hand on her jaw, trying to deepen the kiss, but she pulls away.

"If you give anyone a single one of these photos, I will destroy you." She threatens in a loving tone, before kissing you again, this time letting you deepen the kiss for however long you wish.

The next time you come over to Jennifer's house, there's a new scrapbook next to her bed that reads "Y/N"

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter six ⭐︎ Secrets I have held in my heart

Warnings: weed consumption, mentions of death, mentions of sex, allusions to smut. this is mostly written from reader's pov, Steve's pov is only at the ending

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You step into a new territory and test the waters that Steve had already been dragged into.

Word count: 5k

Author's note: @hellfire--cult I know you're sick of me constantly saying this BUT thanks for working on this series with me hehe

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next chapter

♡

The lights that hang above the shelves in the living room illuminate the darkened room, casting a soft yellow glow on everything. The TV screen lights up brightly as the killer in the movie shows up dramatically again. The sound is low and no one is paying attention to the horror movie that you have all seen multiple times already. The rain paddles against the windows and the lightning crashes through the sky every few seconds or so, though no thunder has rumbled yet, making you feel relieved. The room smells like takeout and weed, dirty plates litter the coffee table but no one cares about that yet. 

A big cloud of smoke lingers in the room as Eddie and Robin pass the joint back and forth, the latter talking his ear off about the date she had gone on with Vickie the night before, while your eyes are stuck on Michael Myers on the screen, taking the joint from Eddie when he offers it to you, you place it between your lips, squinting your eyes as you take a drag and inhale it deeply. 

You can feel his eyes on you, you can feel them everywhere, on your face, on your upper body, on your bare legs, they’re burning into your skin and you’re now not as blind as you were days back when you thought that you were imagining things, that every slightest glance and touch from his were feeding you lies – that his touches were accidental and his glances meant nothing. But you were wrong, so very wrong. 

For days, your mind has been plaguing you with thoughts about him, and it’s nothing new, really, but it was different than usual. Because before the dinner at Joyce’s and Hopper’s place, he had never given you anything to overthink about, to make yourself feel delusional over. Steve had never touched you before, at least not like that. He had never placed his hand on your waist, he had never brushed his knuckles against yours, he had never looked at you the way he did that night and he certainly never commented on the clothes you wear. 

It drove you crazy, and it made you believe that he somehow figured you out, that he found out about your feelings and decided to torture you by teasing you with touches that he knew you wished had a deeper meaning. But he wouldn’t do that, especially not after your conversation weeks ago, not when he was doing everything to keep the peace. He wouldn’t do that – maybe King Steve would’ve done something like this, but not this Steve – not even when he still holds hatred for you. 

Steve teased you, not accidentally, not unintended. He did it openly, because he wanted to for whatever reason and you only realized it today, when you walked through his front door behind Eddie who held the bags of takeout, you were met with the same teasing look in Steve’s eyes you saw that night. He licked his lips and let his eyes run up and down your body so shamelessly that it almost threw you off because where was this all coming from? 

When did he go from hating your guts, from arguing every chance he got to whatever this is. 

Not only did he look at you like he was ready to flirt, he also placed his hand on your lower back when he led you into the living room earlier – and as though that wasn’t enough to make you crumble, he also leaned in to whisper ‘cute skirt, Blondie.’ 

Cute skirt!? His husky voice and those words kept repeating themselves like a broken record ever since they fell from his lips, they made you think so hard that you dissociated while eating the fries that you’ve been craving all day, missing the conversation between your friends and half of the movie that you watched before Eddie put on Halloween. Only the touch of Steve’s hand pulled you back into reality, you almost jumped from your seat when you felt his hand on your knee when he very obviously pretended to reach over you to grab the bottle of ketchup with a smirk on his face. That was evidence enough for you to realize that all his touches were intended and he did want to tease you, but not for the reason you thought. 

Why? You still don’t know. 

You’re pretty sure that he isn’t attracted to you, at least not in the way you are to him. 

But if he wants to play this game, then you certainly won’t pass up on the opportunity to tease him back a little, though testing the waters first – because you absolutely won’t make a fool of yourself in front of him. 

You have to take it slow until you’re completely sure that he is doing what you think he’s doing. 

You glance at Eddie, his eyes are rimmed with redness, a lazy smile plays on his lips, his eyes are stuck on the screen but he is so far gone in his mind, he is not paying attention to anything anymore, not Robin’s rambling, not the movie and certainly not to you and Steve. 

Robin’s hair is sprawled across the pillow, she looks up at the ceiling, the joint now back between her lips but she’s still rambling. 

They won’t notice anything. 

You take a sip of your drink, eying Steve from the side, and he is already looking at you, he is looking at you in a way that would drive your teenage self up the wall – you’d be a blushing and giddy mess thinking about it for the rest of the day, daydreaming about things that would never even happen. But you’re not a teenager anymore, his glances and touches still make you blush – but you’re not stupid and you certainly don’t daydream about things that aren’t even there. 

You still don’t know why is he looking at you that way but the little sweet voice in your head is telling you that he might have harbored a tiny little crush after seeing you in a stupid dress while the other voice is telling you that Steve Harrington wants to fuck you. These voices might belong to the ghosts of Chrissy and Billy because in no way would you ever think that Steve could ever feel anything more than hatred for you. 

How will he react if you tease him back a little? 

You don’t even have to make it obvious, you can play it off, you can play anything off. 

“Do you guys want something sweet?” Steve asks, “I got ice cream in the freezer.” 

“What else do you have?” Eddie slurs, something that makes Robin giggle.

“Uh, M&M’s, Reese’s, Sour gummies,” Steve mumbles, scratching the back of his neck as he looks up, thinking of what else he got in his cabinet, “I got some chips too.”

Eddie looks at Steve, pointing at him with his ringed finger, “I want it all.” 

Steve snorts at him and at the dazed look on his face, “alright. I’m just gonna clean this up first,” he points to the mess on the table. 

Perfect.

“I’ll help.” 

His eyes meet yours, a slight smirk tugs at his lips, “you sure you wanna get your hands dirty, Blondie?” 

“Oh, I don’t mind getting my hands dirty,” you smirk and break eye contact, rising up from the seat and swallowing down the nervousness. 

The space between the coffee table and the couch isn’t exactly big, and it gives you the perfect opportunity to make the first little step. With an innocent look on your face, you glance at him one more time, before you turn your back to him, bending over in front of him to pick up the dirty plates. Your heart is pounding and your cheeks are already burning but you pay no mind to that. 

Steve sucks in a sharp breath, you can hear it.

Should you even be surprised? His eyes almost bulged out of his skull when your skirt rode up after you just sat down earlier, his eyes were glued on your bare thighs the whole goddamn time and you saw it and yet your heart skips a beat at his reaction just now. 

You’re aware of how short your skirt is and that all it takes is for you to bend down a slight bit more for him to see more than just your thighs, a little further down and he will be able to see your ass and your panties. 

You bite back the smirk as you stack up the dirty plates, taking your sweet time with it. You can feel his eyes on your body and it takes everything in you not to turn around to look at his face but your little plan backfires when you suddenly feel his hands on your hips and his breath on your shoulder. You freeze. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into your ear, “it’s so tight in here.”

Blood rushes to your face and your stomach fills with butterflies. His touch and his voice sending shivers down your spine. 

This is bad. This is so very bad. 

You heard the mischief in his voice and his touch still lingers, he doesn’t need to take that long to squeeze past you. 

You don’t know what’s gotten into him or you, it might be the weed in your system or just the spur of the moment but as you pick up all the plates, you take a step back and press yourself against him, only for a one… or two seconds but long enough for you to feel the warmth of his body against yours, long enough to feel his hand squeezing your hip for a single second, long enough to hear him sucking in another sharp breath. 

And then, you step away from him like nothing happened, with innocence in your eyes, you look over your shoulder, “you’re right, it is really tight.” 

You see the way his lips part a little, the way his eyes darken and the way he clenches his jaw. He is angry that you are not falling for his teasing, that you are doing the same to him that he does to you. 

You walk into the kitchen and carrying the dishes over to the sink, you put them down and place your hands on the counter, taking a deep breath as you close your eyes, only now noticing how fast your heart is beating and how clammy your hands are, you give yourself a moment to calm down before you reach for the dish soap and the sponge after you turn on the water.

Flirting is nothing new to you and you’re certainly not shy about it, not anymore. 

Billy was your best friend, and if there’s something he was good at, then it was flirting and taking home girls. He taught you how to be more confident, how to embrace your sensuality and he taught you how to flirt. 

Losing your best friend took a toll on you and you couldn’t stand to be in Hawkins when every place you had gone to, reminded you of him, so you left for a little while. You spent two months in Indianapolis and stayed with your sister. You started going out, parties your sister had dragged you to, clubs and downtown bars and you had fun. For the first time in your life, you were approached by men, they flirted with you and that felt… good. You let your guard down when you were with them, you didn’t feel the need to hide yourself from them, they wouldn’t stay in your life for longer than a night, you didn’t have to fear them leaving or hurting you, there was no attachment, no connection or anything deeper between you than lust, you could be yourself in those few hours you spend with them. 

They made you feel something other than grief, sadness and heartbreak. They were nothing but strangers to you but you felt something in those nights you spent in their beds, their touches brought you back to life… even if only temporarily. 

You are used to flirting, you are used to teasing, it’s an easy game to you… with strangers. But Steve Harrington? He makes you nervous, he makes your heart race like crazy, he burns you with only his glances, and his touches make you feel like you have been kissed by something out of this world. He is different, he is no meaningless man in your life, he is not someone you would kick out of your bed after taking from him what you wanted, he is not someone you could easily leave behind and never look back to again. No, Steve holds your heart in the palm of his hand, he left a tear in your soul, he is the someone you would do anything for and that changes everything. You can’t treat him like you treated them because he is special, every little interaction with him, sets your heart on fire. 

“Jesus, Blondie!” Steve’s voice sounds through the kitchen, making you flinch in surprise, “use less dish soap, one drop is enough!” 

With furrowed brows you look down at all the foam in the sink. It’s not even bad. 

You turn around, glaring at the man and the tone in his voice. 

He shakes his head at you, crossing his arms over his chest as he walks towards you. 

“Are you washing the dishes or me!?” You growl at him, ignoring the tension that still lingers between the two of you. 

Steve chuckles as he stops beside you, raising his hands up in surrender, “you didn’t have to do it, don’t blame it on me.”

You turn back to the plate you were washing, scraping the sponge against it harshly as you try not to look at him, which turns out to be just another challenge – he inches closer to you, breathing down your neck and staring at you. You throw the sponge down and reach for the lever, not noticing the way his eyes widen a little or how he reaches his hand out. 

“Wait careful with t–” he gets cut off by the water that starts streaming from the broken lever. 

“Fuck!” You curse loudly, followed by a gasp when the cold water sprinkles all over your neck and your chest, you throw the plate into the sink and reach for the lever again but Steve grabs your hand, not letting you turn it off the way you want to, he is trying to move to it into a different direction, it only confuses you even more and his touch doesn’t help either.

“Hold still!” Steve snaps at you. 

Your whole chest is already wet from all the water you have been hit with and his angry voice irritates you. 

“Why don’t you get drenched huh!?” 

With a loud sigh, he lets go and you almost start raging. You lean forward, grabbing the lever with both hands when you suddenly feel him behind you, his chest against your back, his whole body pressed against yours as he reaches his arms around you, placing his both hands on top of yours, the water now getting all over the both of you as his now wet fingers handle the broken lever. 

You hear his groan as the water hits him in the face when he leans over your shoulder and he grips your hand tighter. 

And then, the water stops sprinkling and the only sound that continues to fill the room is the rain that still rolls down the windows and your heavy breathing. 

Your chest is rising up and down heavily and so is his, you can feel it against your back, and you can feel his breath on your neck and your shoulder, and you now feel it all by tenfold, thanks to your wet skin, it sends chills all over. You can still feel his hands on top of yours, his much bigger hands that cover yours fully. Your eyes are glued on them and the way their fingers trace your own for a very short moment. 

Your heart is beating so wildly in your chest that you fear that he might hear it. 

You can feel the water dripping down your shoulder, not the one from your hair but the water from his face. 

Despite the nervousness in your chest, you slowly pull your hands away and turn around to face him, only for a gasp threatening to fall from your lips when you notice how close he actually is, how close he had never been before, not even in Joyce’s kitchen, last week. Your chest is almost pressed against his, his face only inches away, lips so close that you can feel his breath on yours. You’re surprised when he doesn’t move his hands away, letting them fall on the counter and your sides. 

His hazel eyes stare into yours so intensely that it almost knocks the breath out of you, the look in them making you feel hot all over your body that you don’t even feel the cold water seeping through your white shirt any longer. 

Strands of his hair hang in front of his eyes, water dripping from them and rolling down his cheek, your eyes follow the drops that lead to his lips, making you gulp when you catch yourself wondering what it would feel like to kiss him or even just to touch his lips with your fingers – you dig your nails into your wet palms.

You don’t even notice how Steve grips the edges of the counter so tightly to the point that his knuckles turn white, but you notice the way his eyes move down to your chest and to your now see-through shirt, the lacy black bra being on full display now… almost. 

You are both breathing heavily, still, whether it’s because of the shock or something else now – you feel the tension, it’s so heavy, heavier than before and it’s making your insides churn in a way that weakens you. 

Neither of you say anything, you are too busy staring at each other, you are too busy wanting him more and more. 

This is not enough. 

How could this ever be enough? 

You have always wanted this, to be this close, to feel his touch, to find out what it’s like to kiss him, to feel him. 

This isn’t fair… This isn’t fair to you. Because this is only making things so much harder for you.

You know you have to snap out of it, even when he makes no move to pull away, to stop staring, to let go of the counter and step away from your body. 

You have to snap out of it or else you will do something that you will regret for the rest of your life. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, you ignore the beating of your heart, you ignore the shakiness in your hands and you blink as you tilt your head up, looking back into his eyes again.

“Lego head,” you whisper shakily, “the water stopped.”

He snaps out of his stupor, blinking and clearing his throat as he averts his gaze. 

He steps away and you make a move to escape this, to escape him but neither of you have noticed just how messy the situation has actually gotten – the water didn’t just sprinkle all over the both of you, it soaked the ground beneath your feet, making the tiles slippery enough for you to lose control and almost take the fall. Almost. 

A gasp tears from your lips when Steve’s hand grabs at your waist and the other reaches for the counter behind you again. Out of instinct, you lift your hand and grab his arm to hold onto him, steadying him as well as he slipped too. He lets go of your waist, gripping the counter with both hands just like he did seconds ago, caging you in completely. He isn’t only close anymore, he is pressed against you completely – his chest flush against yours, his nose bumping into yours causing you to let out another soft gasp. 

And then, you both freeze again. 

You blink. He blinks. Neither of you make a move. 

He looks down at your lips, causing your heart to skip so strongly that you feel it in your whole chest and even your throat. 

“Shit, Blondie.” 

His voice is so low and deep that it makes you shudder, your blood rushing to more than just your face now. 

“I didn’t know you were such a clutz,” he murmurs, shakily as his eyes get stuck on your chest again. 

He is nervous, just like you are, you can tell by the sound of his voice. 

You stare at him, struggling to find your words.

How can you when he looks at you that way? 

As you stand there, caged in by his strong arms, staring up at the man that is much taller and bigger than you, something that makes him all the more attractive, you feel yourself not only longing for his heart but also his body… on top of yours. His much bigger hands on your bare body, his lips on your skin, him inside of you… You are fucked. You are so utterly and completely fucked. 

Steve Harrington could do anything with you, and he is not even aware of the powers he holds over you. 

Footsteps echo through the hallway, causing yours and his eyes to widen and he quickly pulls away from you, careful not to slip again. You pull your hands back, now holding onto the counter yourself. 

Eddie and Robin come rushing into the room just as Steve steps far enough away from you. 

They both halt in their tracks, gasping at the sight of the two of you all soaked from the water. They stare with wide eyes before they turn to look at each other, holding back only for two seconds before they burst into laughter. 

You’re not sure if the sight is really that funny or if they’re just high enough to laugh about anything. 

Eddie bends over, holding his stomach as he continues laughing while pointing between the two of you, Robin holding onto his shoulder as her giggles sound through the kitchen. 

You press your lips together and clench your jaw as you look over at Steve, who nods at the both of them with an annoyed look on his face. 

“What the hell happened!?” Eddie asks through his laughter. 

His voice snaps you out from the daze you were just in… and thank god. 

With a glare, you keep your eyes on Steve, “this fucker didn’t tell me that his sink was jammed and that a little bit of a force can break the lever.”

Steve groans, though not looking at you, he wipes his face as he steps away, “right, blame it on me for your sudden force.” 

He walks out of the kitchen, brushing past Eddie and Robin who stop laughing when he gives them a deadly glare, the one you’re throwing at his back as he leaves to go upstairs, probably to get changed while you stand there with your soaked shirt. 

You carefully step away from the puddle of water in front of you, making your way over to the kitchen island to grab some of the napkins. You dry your face off first, not even bothering with your shirt. 

Despite their amused faces, your friends walk over to you, wanting to help. 

“Damn,” Eddie mumbles as he grabs a napkin, he gives you a smirk, “who got you this wet, Sweetheart?” 

You raise your head up, glaring at your best friend who starts chuckling again. 

“This is porn material right there,” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at you as he points at your white shirt, but he is not even looking, even though your bra is very visible through the material now – what a gentleman. 

Robin chuckles, “should’ve kept the bra off, babe.” 

Your jaw drops as you stare at them with a stunned expression on your face, “pervs!” 

Robin keeps on chuckling as she walks over the cabinets, searching for clean kitchen towels. Eddie steps closer to you, patting your face dry with the napkins, which only makes you giggle when his brows knit together in concentration. 

Eddie’s eyes flash with amusement as he keeps pressing the napkin against your cheek, shaking his head at your laughter. 

“What’s so funny, smiley?” 

You snort at the nickname, and open your mouth to reply when Steve walks back into the room, his face now dry, hair still wet but no longer dripping. He’s wearing a different shirt now and he holds towels and a sweater in his hands, halting in his tracks, he looks between you and Eddie – his eyes flash with something that you can’t read, his face hardens and he clenches his jaw, you don’t know why but the expression causes your laughter to die down.

“Here,” Steve mumbles, tearing his gaze away from the both of you, he looks at the ground as he makes his way over to you, “those napkins won’t do much.” 

He hands you the towels and then his sweater. 

“And take your shirt off, Blondie,” he orders, “you can wear my sweater.” 

Your chest warms at his words and your heart flutters, and it only makes you feel irritated – this means nothing, this isn’t special, you aren’t special. He’d give his sweater to anyone under these circumstances. 

“Thanks,” you mumble as you put the sweater on the counter, using the soft white towel to dry yourself off first. 

Eddie steps away from you, throwing the napkin into the trash before he makes his way over to Steve’s snack drawer, completely ignoring the puddle of water. 

“Dude, you could clean this up,” Robin mumbles, pointing at the mess on the floor. 

Eddie scrunches his nose up, “why don’t you clean it up?” 

Steve rolls his eyes at them, “I got this, I’ll clean it up.” 

Eddie starts rummaging through the drawer, picking out snacks as Robin turns around to look at you, and at Steve who stares at you with his hands on his hips. 

The shirt sticks to your body uncomfortably, goosebumps litter your skin from the cold water that seeps through the thin material, you want it off immediately. 

You take the sweater, still holding the towel close against your chest, you look up at Steve, “I’m gonna go change…” 

He nods, “yeah, you can uh… use the bathroom downstairs or mine, whatever you want.” 

You ignore the burning in your cheeks, the pounding in your heart as you brush past him and leave the kitchen, making your way into the bathroom. Your friend’s chatter fades away as you close the door behind you, locking it, a shaky sigh falls from your lips as you press your back against it. You close your eyes, giving yourself a moment to just breathe. 

What the hell just happened? 

With shaky legs, you walk towards the sink, dropping the towel and the sweater on the counter before you finally take a look in the mirror, only to gasp when you see just how much you can actually see through your shirt. You grow flustered knowing that Steve could see you like this. 

You groan in embarrassment, reaching for the hem of your shirt, you peel it off your body, replacing it with his sweater – something that fills you with warmth the moment the soft material touches your skin, your heart skips a beat when you look back at your reflection, taking in the sight of his sweater on your body.

You swallow the lump in your throat, distracting yourself by fixing your hair – you won’t let your mind go there, you won’t let yourself think too deeply about anything. This is just a sweater. And yet, your heart won’t stop racing and you can’t deny how such a small thing can make you feel so… comforted. 

When you return into the kitchen, you find it empty, the water puddle on the floor already gone but the dirty plates are still in the sink – you surely won’t risk getting wet again. You turn around and make your way over into the living room, where Eddie and Robin are back in their previous positions, snacking on Doritos. 

Steve is lying on the couch with his arm behind his back, the remote in his hand as he flips through the channels. 

You tug at the sleeves of his sweater, suddenly feeling shy as you walk into the room, wearing something of his. 

You don’t look at him as you walk past him, you also don’t look at him as you sit down on the couch, all that you’re focused on is the pounding in your heart and the nervousness that you still feel after everything that happened minutes ago.

You don’t notice the way he freezes when he takes a look at you, the way he stops flipping through the channels, the way his cheeks flush red when he looks at the sweater on your body – he knows that the only thing underneath the blue sweater of his, is a black, lacy bra and it makes him feel… flustered.

He sees the way you tug at the hem of his sweater when it rides up, pulling your short skirt along, he sees the way you bite down on your lip, he sees the way you glance at him nervously and suddenly Steve feels his blood rushing south. 

He swore to himself that he would never do what he did last week, and he really tried to resist you.

But how can he? 

How can he resist when you so clearly are doing it too now? 

Or is he reading the signs wrong? 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @munsonlore

[43qh]

your writing is so lovely, I’m a writer myself but don’t think i’m that good but i wanna see you write quinn dating a very girly reader like one who loves pinks & purples, dresses, being dolled up sometimes, has an interest in vintage designer items or even has hints of pinks all around in her apartment. i could not stop thinking about what he would gift her if he would spot stuff in window shops on one of his days off that screams you all over it. like him buying it with a nice stain pink ribbon for your anniversary ugh i’m in awe thinking about it this past week 😩

quinn hughes x fem!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 641 (sorry it’s so short !)

warnings: none! just quinn thinking of reader and being sweet

quinn observes you, looking at the pink skirt that dangles off your waist that is perfectly paired with a white shirt. you looked gorgeous. he felt out of place as he sat on the edge of your bed, wearing all black. quinn knew you liked bright colors, wore them often and your room was decorated like a fairytale.

he hums to himself as he watches you finish up your look, making you turn around at the sound. “do you like it?”

quinn smiles softly, “yeah, of course i do.”

you feel your body heat up at the genuine compliment, trying your best not to look nervous in front of him. he urges you to come towards him with a nod of his head. you follow, walking and standing between his legs. his hands trace along your bare thighs, looking up at you with love. you shiver at the touch, smiling down at him.

“i got you something,” he mumbles, looking at you with a sparkle in his eyes.

you pout, “you didn’t have to.”

he shakes his head, “wanted to.”

you watch as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a delicate box. you frown, seeing a designer name on it. he knew you loved things like this, but you knew it had to have been expensive. it wasn’t like quinn cared, though. as long as you were happy. spoiled and happy.

“open it,” he encourages, handing you the box.

you slowly open it, eyeing him for just a few moments before seeing what was inside. it’s a gorgeous heart necklace, a beautiful pink as it shines brightly in your room. your gasp and the smile on your face makes it all worth it to quinn. he had window shopped for hours before coming upon that gift. he always likes getting you something nice, something you can remember him by.

“put it on me?” you smile, turning around. quinn stands from his sitting position, taking the necklace out of your hands and clasping it together.

you reach a hand up, feeling the jewelry between your fingers and sighing. “thank you, quinn. i love it so much.”

quinn kisses you softly, “i’m glad you do, sweetheart. you look gorgeous in it.” he eyes the necklace around your neck, proud of his own gift as it matches the outfit you currently wear.

quinn never thought he would end up with someone who dressed the opposite to him, had an aura the opposite to him. but he did, and he didn’t find any flaws about it. you were his girl. the girl who loved to dress up, wear all these pretty clothes, show it off for him.

and damn, did he feel lucky.

quinn pulls one last thing out of his pocket, surprising you again. it’s another box. you eye him suspiciously, but don’t hesitate to open it. it’s a gorgeous satin ribbon, one for your hair. it’s a light pink, making you smile and bite your bottom lip.

“why am i being spoiled?” you ask, wrapping your arms around him. “i know it’s our anniversary but you didn’t need to-”

“because i love you.” he blurts out, looking you in the eye and putting a pause on your sentence, “i love you so much, and every time i’m out, i think of you. i think about the things you would and wouldn’t like. i think about putting these things on you and watching you flaunt.”

you smile up at him, tears starting to form quietly, “i love you so much, quinn.”

he dips down for a kiss, feeling how soft and pillowy your lips are. and it’s nothing short of sweet, nothing you aren’t familiar with but something you can’t get used to. it causes your knees to almost buckle below you, feeling him smile against your lips.

you were quinn’s gorgeous girl.

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (iv) - pt 1 pt 2 p3

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : maybe the only way matt and y/n can stand being around each other is to fuck each other

warnings : weed, alcohol/drinking, smut (slightly rough but not very?? pretty filthy tho), profanity

mickey speaks : rlly hate how the smut turned out but maybe its jus me being a perfectionist + i changed a lot of shit ab UCLA (mostly grad dates) to fit into my narrative okay, i knowwww. only sorta proofread bc ive been busy, enjoy <3

THIS IS PART FOUR GO READ THE FIRST THREE PARTS DUHH

"FUCK!"

the turn of spring to summer in LA is typically the most eventful time of year. more parties are thrown than ever before in celebration of the season change, the boom of tourism begins, and of course school years are ending.

you celebrated your college graduation from UCLA only a week ago, with a large dinner at your favorite seafood restaurant and your friends all excitedly in attendance. matt was also there but you let it be known you invited him only so you wouldn’t feel bad (though he claims he wouldn’t have cared if you did or not).

you also shared an excruciating breakfast that same morning with your parents (both suffocating you with their traditional views that reminded you exactly why you moved hours away from them to attend school). you were cautious to wear items of clothing that would hide your tattoo and kept any conversations on the topic of your schooling rather than outside interests (not that they even care to ask) out of fear you may expose your routine of going out to party most weekends.

your brother was also at breakfast and you could tell he was trying his hardest to keep a positive attitude for you. you immediately noticed his wet face when you gave him a full hug after your ceremony, which made you cry, mostly out of missing him and love.

"it's not that bad!" andrea looks at you in the mirror as she continues to give herself soft curls.

“how the fuck did i manage to make this one downturned and this one up,” you reply in frustration while you point to either wing of eyeliner on your grimaced face.

andrea giggles and aims the stick of the curling iron at makeup remover lying in the sink, “just get a q-tip and fix it, cariño.” (“honey”)

you move around her to grab a q-tip from a small jar in the medicine cabinet before following her instructions, getting extra close to the mirror.

remi barges in the bathroom dressed in a mini skirt and a detailed patterned top, “hi nick!” she exclaims to her phone screen, placing it down on the counter while untwisting her lipgloss.

you can see nick’s awkward face as he sits in the car (making his camera jump at any dip or bump in the road), “sooo…this better be erin’s bathroom ceiling im staring at.”

“and if i say it’s not?” remi giggles to herself before rubbing her lips together to spread the gloss further.

“i’d say what the fuck are you guys still doing at home?! y/n’s our mutual friend that even got us into this bitch and i’m not just walking into some sorority house acting like i know any of these fucking people.”

“and we didn’t go to college!” chris exclaims to add to the point.

“yeah, we didn’t go to fuckin’ college!” nicks adds before his face falters, “the fuck does that have to do with it?”

chris’ voice is low as he explains himself, “you know…like, obviously we aren’t gonna know shit about some delta kappa omega?”

nick comedically pauses and the three of you watch the screen to see him staring at chris with no facial expression, “…okay chris. anyway, get your asses over here ASAP. we need you.”

“okay, we don’t need them. you’re being dramatic just chill out,” matt huffs from the driver’s seat.

“hey, we’re leaving soon i promise, nick.” andrea assures and remi picks her phone off of the counter to show the girl.

"thanks, but we'll be fine. erin told me where to find her, let's not get ridiculous." matt continues dismissing the conversation he finds so unnecessary.

you hold yourself back from saying anything but you can’t help but wonder just how close erin has got to matt. and how she managed to hold any conversations without pissing him off (no way a little lap dance dismissed matt’s entire personality). she hasn’t been too explicit about anything happening between them, only cluing you all in through her frequent mentions of him.

chris’ loud voice beams, “yeah, you ladies take your time! nick gimme the phone-” chris’ smiley face takes up remi’s screen now that the phone has shifted, “you know, who the fuck are we to tell any of you to rush?!” he sees andrea in view (with a form fitting dress and warm toned makeup) and can’t help the rush of words that decide to spill from his mouth, “andreayoulookfineasshitbytheway- and i just think, uh,” he giggles at his poor recovery and at andrea shaking her head and biting the side of her mouth (her very andrea way of blushing). “um, yeah, fuck, what was i sayin’?” he turns to matt.

nick laughs from the backseat at chris’ comment (he thinks it’s generally embarrassing opposed to andrea who finds herself embarrassingly flattered by him).

“nothing important, say your goodbyes now, we just pulled up.” matt gives his short advice and takes the phone. “see you, bye,” he hangs up and chris punches his arm immediately.

“dudeee!” chris groans. matt doesn’t give any reaction besides handing nick his phone back without looking at him.

“we’ll see them in less than an hour, get your shit.” matt tilts his head out the door as he opens it and exits the car.

“he’s so annoying.” chris huffs and turns to nick as he unbuckles his seatbelt.

“i don’t know him, he’s your fuckin’ brother.” nick shrugs and acts clueless. chris laughs into his seat and nick knows making chris laugh makes him feel way better than just shitting on matt would’ve.

matt opens his door again, “get your gigglin’ asses out here!”

౨ৎ

matt's suprised he's lasted this long at this party without a fucking drink.

he's seen just about every partygoer trope there is - drunk guys and "you need to sober up" girlfriends, overly excited drunks far too impressed by each new song that plays, the loner type who strictly speak within their circle even when wasted, et cetera - and has managed to lose everyone he knows in this crowd, leaving him alone with DD responsibilities in a sorority house bouncing with excitement in honor of their “graduating senior sisters.”

speaking of, he’s only spoken to erin once all night. he did see you with your friends briefly, early in the night before you were swooped away with nick to be introduced to some guy he just met.

so like all times matt is bitchless and bored, he decides to smoke. he reaches in his jacket pocket for the joint he rolled before the party, in case of emergency.

but just as he raises the lighter towards his mouth he's interrupted by an airy, high pitched voice, “um, excuse me!” matt looks over, “yeah, you. sorry, you can't have drugs in the house.” the blonde frowns.

“it’s weed…” matt clarifies, taking the joint from between his lips.

“uh huh! and that is prohibited, outside please,” she guides her hand, drink in tow, towards a sliding door behind her.

he's not gonna nitpick with some chick about the umbrella term of 'drugs' or debate whether the alcohol she's drinking lies under it, so he just nods his head “cool,” and removes himself from his spot against the wall to walk around her and out of the door.

౨ৎ

you slump against a nearby couch as you recover from a hour of dancing alongside your best friends. remi sits next to you and leans her head on your shoulder as you both look around at the room full of people (a shade of deep fuchsia covers the room from multiple LED lights around the large house).

when you feel your own blinks become slower you shrug your shoulder and look at remi's profile, "we should probably get up rem, or else we'll fall asleep. this couch is way too comfy." you sigh.

"mmm... yeah. kinda want another drink but," she turns to look behind you both, "the kitchen's all the way over there..."

"now i know you two aren't tapping out of my party already?!"

you both look over to see erin dressed in a small glittered party dress, making her shine as she walks closer. "erin, where the fuck have you been?!" you excitedly rise from the couch and give her a hug.

"it's actually so fucking hard to host a graduation party, especially with my sorority sisters- they've had me doing all these traditions and shit, i haven't had time to talk to like anyone!" she explains to both you and remi.

"well, at least you look good, bitch!" remi adds and holds erins hand to make her twirl in her dress.

"thank you," she blushes and looks down then back to you two, "have either of you seen the triplets?"

"i think nick's off with some dude and chris is 'teaching' drea how to play beer pong..." you trail off and look to remi, "have you seen matt at all...?"

"not recently, i don't think so?" she looks over to erin.

"oh okay, that's fine. just wanna make sure they're having funnn." she draws her words out as she plays with the ends of her hair and smiles. you and remi can both tell she something bothers her more than she's leading on.

"e, come with us to grab drinks," you hold both remi and erin's hands and guide them with you to the kitchen.

౨ৎ

matt hadn't realized how hard he was staring at you dancing until chris came up to him with wild eyes and a loud laugh, making him snap away from whatever trance he was in.

"you okay, matt? your brain's not buzzkillin' right?"

matt straightens himself to no longer lean on the wall, "no."

"you sure?"

"yes?"

"maybe you should say fuck DD and have a drink or two, might give you somethin' to smileee aboutttt!" chris laughs.

"don't be stupid, chris. 'm not driving drunk."

"obviously we'd get an uber, matt." he emphasizes with a 'duh' attitude. "i get funnier when drunk, not stupid."

"right," matt offers a light laugh.

he throws a hand over matt's shoulder as they both face the crowd of dancing people, "god damn andrea's fucking hot- swear she's been feelin' me all night," chris hypes himself up then brings his red solo cup towards his mouth.

matt's eyes shift from you to andrea, who's limbs move just as freely and smile is just as wide. "that's good, that's good," matt nods. "she's nice."

"she's everything, bro." chris shakes his head in awe, "but, uh, do you have any cash on you?" matt turns his head, eyes showing his annoyance. "i'll pay you back, you know that matt. just like $20 to get me in the poker game outside."

"chris-"

"please, matt," he begs.

matt lets a heavy sigh out through his nose as he rustles in his pocket for his wallet. "you're my favorite now," chris kisses matt's hand quickly before he's heading off with a crumpled twenty in hand.

matt's eyes follow him until he's fully gone, then he's turning to look for you again. only this time it's not a challenge at all, you're already on your way.

you pull at the bottom of your little black dress (which rode up some due to your eccentric dancing) as you approach. "hi, matttt," you sing. it's known to most of your friends that when you're drunk your emotions are ten times stronger, and right now you're feeling extra carefree.

matt can tell you've definitely had a few drinks, so he tries to keep the conversation civil. "hey," he cracks a smile.

"are you not having fun?" you ask. you've wondered ever since you recognized him across the room.

"sure, i'm having fun." he shrugs, keeping eye contact with you.

you notice his all black outfit and blue jean jacket, "we kinda match," you look down at yourself then towards him, "i had a jean jacket too...it's um, in a closet somewhere i think."

"then you must have great style," matt jokes.

"oh i think that was clear before i happened to match you," you joke making use of your hands while speaking.

"mhm, sure..."

"so, do you wanna dance with us?" you smile in question.

"absolutely not," matt laughs and brings a fist to his mouth.

your smile drops, "right, you watch us dance but laugh at the thought of participating...?" you move your eyes to each side, "'cause that makes sense, matthew."

"no, it's not like that. you go have fun, i'm just not one to make myself look stupid for fun." he shrugs.

"so we...look stupid?" you squint your eyes in amusement knowing matt is trying to be such a hard ass for no reason.

"you said it," he laughs.

now you're a bit annoyed. "so you go back to being a loser all alone right here in this corner, and i'll go back to this stupid party and enjoy myself."

"alright," he rolls his eyes, "go ahead and be dramatic about it."

"will do," you sigh and begin to walk over to your friends, presenting matt with the gift of your middle finger directed towards him behind your back.

and matt thinks he just might take chris' advice on having a drink or two.

౨ৎ

you hate that matt is still on your mind.

and it irritates the fuck out of you that you're now giddy seeing him for a third time tonight. but to give yourself the benefit of the doubt, you've gotten to the point where you're so buzzed you've become horny.

you came outside on the hunt for remi, who told you she was looking for erin, and ended up finding all three triplets at a makeshift poker table full of rowdy men.

and as some wise person must have said: when horny, find someone to fuck.

"y/n!! whatcha doin'?" nick notices you and gives you a wide grin offering you a chair near the table.

"hey, nick. 'm sorry i can't really stay i just, um, need to borrow matt."

matt. who isn't paying much attention to anything around him now that the four shots he took settled. with his phone in one hand and a beer resting in his other, he's bound to be startled when you come behind him and whisper in his ear, "heyyy, sorry to bother but can we talk?"

he blinks and looks behind him, "y/n?!"

"come," you motion with your fingers and begin to walk away as he rubs his fingers over his eyes and starts to stand up.

"yeah?" he asks getting closer to you.

you wordlessly bring him back into the heated house and navigate until you find a mostly empty hallway (all while he keeps annoying you by repeatedly asking what you want).

his back falls against the wall, "way to confuse the fuck outta me. what's good?" the hand you were once holding dives into his front pocket out of habit and the other continues to hold his beer.

"i just need you to take me home."

"y/n, i'm no longer driving myself home, let alone you," he shakes his head.

"right, i figured, smartass."

"glad those comprehension skills still work. grab your phone and order an uber, 'm sure you dont need my help."

"matt. i want you to come home with me." you sigh in defeat.

"oh shit." matt dead pans. "ohhh shit." his eyes widen before a a laugh breaks through his closed mouth, "sunshine...you're tryna' fuck?" he looks up at you from his spot against the wall.

you scramble a lie to make yourself look less pathetic, "you're a last resort trust me," you roll your eyes. this was way better in your drunken mind than reality.

"still made the list though!" matt jokes, "wow. who knew you were so romantic? bringing me all the way over here just to tell me you wanna fuck. and at your place? how sweet," he can't help but poke fun.

"fuck you," you say under your breath.

"well only because you asked so kindly!" he goes to wrap his arms around you before you push him back against the wall.

"are you done?"

"i guess." he shrugs.

"so will you or not," you try to keep your confidence and not allow matt's comments to embarrass you. "it's fine if not, just-"

"yeah," matt's smirk slowly grows. "meet me out front, i'll have to go lie to my brothers but i can be quick."

౨ৎ

"why am i shocked you're actually here?" you ask as you shut the car door and look over to matt, phone screen reflected on his face.

the car begins to speed out of the neighborhood as he turns off his phone and shoves it in his jacket pocket, "let's be serious for one second," he reaches over and pulls at the end of your dress, "you wear this and look like that and you think i'd say no? i'd be crazy. i mean, yeah, your fuckin' mouth can irritate me to pieces but-"

"actually just shut up, matt" you remove your head from leaning against the window and move across the middle seat to kiss him. you pull apart fairly quickly though, "how are you less mean yet extra annoying when drunk? i shoulda went with my last last resort." you shake your head.

matt grumbles before leaning to kiss you again.

౨ৎ

after a car ride full of teasing and rushed kisses, you both made it to your apartment complex.

you fumble with your purse as you search for your house keys, distracted by matt’s lips moving over your neck. you pinch your eyes shut in frustration, “mattt, give me a second,” you nudge your shoulder into him to get him off of you.

“let me see it,” he grumbles grabbing your purse and finding your keys with ease, moving his arms around you and unlocking the door.

“you make it look so easy,” you breathe and open the door with your body pressed against it.

matt lets go of you and follows you inside.

you lean a hand on the wall next to the door to quickly remove your heeled shoes and matt watches you with dopey eyes and glossy, excessively bitten lips before deciding to take his shoes off as well.

you walk closer to him once he’s done, your dress riding up your legs and barely covering your ass at this point. you look up to him and softly ask, “do you need anything to drink?”

he brings his right hand up to hold your face and moves close to your lips, “you know i don’t want a fucking drink.”

“you don’t?" your pout is genuine even though you're teasing him. he knows you're sweet enough to really get him a drink if he desired. he draws his thumb across your slumped lip before you speak again, "well…what do you want, matt?” you move your hands to the waist of his jeans, tracing the outer seam.

he pinches his eyes shut and moves his head to lean on your shoulder, he’s not gonna be the one to say he wants to fuck you. you want to fuck him, that's why he's here. so he’s definitely not begging you to touch him.

“hmm…?” you hum as your hands go to either side of his face, bringing him back to look at you. he looks into your eyes as he drops his hand from your jaw. you notice the pink splotches that still linger on his face, recovering from the heat of the party atmosphere and now the heat of this moment.

matt looks down at your lips, “you know what i want, and you want it too.” his hands travel down and push the front of your mini dress up as he feels over your underwear.

you mouth hangs open and you move your hips against him softly. begging him with your actions rather than your words. and those tend to speak the loudest.

"so what do you want, y/n?" he asks quietly without breaking eye contact.

"matt-" you breathe, wanting him to do anything more than a juvenile rub over your underwear.

he licks and sucks your neck as your hands capture his hair. “where do you want me?” he sounds out of breath when he asks so close to your ear. he finally moves his fingers past the waistband of your panties to nudge your clit as he taunts, “hmm…? you want me right here?”

you whine, “we can’t right here."

"why not?" he breathes against you, annoyed.

"i can't have you fuck me in the foyer i share with my best friend,” you just know andrea would be pissed if either of your body’s fluids made it onto the freshly vacuumed carpet.

he retracts his hand, “then why are we just standing around? show me to your room,” his voice is rough.

“why don’t you try to guess which is my room is mine?” you smile with your faces far too close together.

“why don’t you be a good host and give me a tour?” he retorts.

“that’s not fun,” you push.

he growls and lifts you up, walking past the living room and into a hallway that splits in two (all while you incessantly kiss his jaw and upper neck). he huffs at his ridiculous situation and reaches for the first door he sees. a toilet sits at the end of the room and a cluttered counter to the left.

“bathroom,” you mutter with a giggle.

matt responds with a snipped tone, “mhm yeah i’ve seen one before.”

his grip on your waist grows harsher as he opens and closes a multitude of doors with you commentating over.

he finally makes it to your room with you mocking him in a cheer of celebration as you climb off of him and turn on the dim light near your bedside.

matt would normally take in the room around him but his headspace is far too sexually frustrated to give a shit about how you decorate your room.

he opts to stand near the door and eye you from afar, wanting nothing more than to pounce on you.

you notice this (as well as the fact that matt hasn’t listened to a word you’ve said about minding the mess of clothes piled in the corner from your struggle to pick an outfit earlier) and slowly walk back towards him. the soft yellow light blurs behind you and highlights the edges of your figure in a mouthwateringly pretty way that makes matt antsy.

when you’re close enough matt somehow pulls you closer. his nose nudges against yours messily before capturing your mouth in a heated kiss. your hands feel for the end of his shirt and move underneath it to touch his warm lower stomach. you can feel how his body expands and curls as he breathes through your unwavering kiss.

despite wanting to keep the tension high, you break apart from matt to tease a bit, “can i touch you?” his face is scrunched absentmindedly from his desire and his lower lip finds its place tucked behind his front teeth when he rushes a nod to you in encouragement.

you push him away from you softly, “take your jacket off.” you move to your bed and after the sound of a jacket hitting the floor, you find him right on your feet, chasing your kiss and heat.

he leans over you and immediately finds your lips once more. now that he’s on top of you he finds himself wanting to get you to say how bad you want him.

his hands meet your thighs and move your dress as they run up to your rib cage before moving back down to squeeze your thighs.

matt’s surprised when you’re the one to involve your tongue in the mix, making the kiss sloppy yet intimate. your hand then crawls into his hair to keep him close.

but he doesn’t let you hold him for long, taking your hand from his hair and laying it against the bed, raising himself above you. “what do you want sweetheart?” he lowers his other hand towards your stomach, grazing your tattooed hip gently before feeling your underwear.

“you,” you respond in defeat and desperation.

“oh? and you want me to…?”

“matt. touch me,” you take your free hand and guide his own under the waistband of your underwear.

“but i thought you wanted to touch me? now you’re just bein’ selfish.” he keeps his hand close to your pussy, running his index finger across your lips kindly.

you look at him with droopy eyes, “please."

so matt lets you be selfish. he selfishly wants to taste you after all. he lowers himself to your face and captures your bottom lip once more, sucking then biting down slightly before moving his face further down your body slowly. your dress maintains its rippled shape in a bunch right where your tits lie.

he makes his way to your tattooed lower hip, still a little impressed with his execution of the cartoon (as it's not his typical style) and showing this with a kiss, then a light lick (making you shudder the tiniest bit). as he furthers, he finds the space on the bed is not enough, opting for the plush, carpeted floor.

matt sits on the back of his calves to watch how your body reacts when he pulls your panties down, only he misses the satisfied smile curling onto your face when you move your head to the the side.

he shifts your pliable legs to give him a better view of your heat's entirety, spreading your folds gently as he gathers spit in his mouth and spills it onto your clit. his eyes flicker from your face (choking on a moan) to the bead of saliva mixing with your natural slick that has him on edge. “that feel good?” he asks and moves his fingers up and down your pussy slowly, bumping your clit but not lingering long enough.

“yes...so good, matt,” you encourage in a broken whimper.

he hums, placing his mouth over your clit and sucking hard. you moan out lowly and you can't help but close your legs around matt's head. he normally would lay them flat again and tease you but he finds the pressure and dizziness turns him on so much more. his hands rest at your hips, moving up and down and your legs cradle his head as he works his mouth and tongue on you.

"mm fuck," you reach above your head to grip the soft colored comforter in your manicured hands. matt never falters, his licks only become needier when he adds two of his fingers to curl inside of you.

he continues his restless actions until the moment right before you have registered you were about to cum. then, he's immediately removing himself and standing up, wiping his face with one hand as the other hurries to unbuckle his chunky black belt.

you grumble and fix yourself to sit up and look at him, now discarding the belt into his own growing pile of clothes on your floor. he begins to unbutton his pants when he hears you whine and pull at his ego to get him to come back. “how fucking typical. should’ve known i'd barely get one orgasm, let alone two out if this.”

matt immediately stops unzipping his jeans and comes closer to stand above you, his face clearly annoyed. he gives your pussy a light slap, making you whimper. “keep talking shit, brat.” he grits through his teeth and slaps it again making a filthily wet sound that has you moaning.

he doesn't stop at that; he begins to harshly rub your clit back and forth without mercy, keeping eye contact as his face hovers your own, before moving his fingers inside of you while his thumb continues to work your clit. continuous loud moans crowd your room before you eventually meet your high with rolled eyes and shaking legs.

matt quickly pulls his fingers out and wipes them against your thigh leaving it sticky and shiny like golden honey. finally able to unzip and remove his jeans and boxers, allowing his needy cock to be free from the tightness. you move to the edge of your bed when you hear the small clap against his stomach, eager to find matt as ready for you as you are for him.

he watches from above as you admire his length while your fingers ghost over his sensitive dick. you then bring your mouth closer, dribbling spit over his tip and wrapping a fist around him. you look up into his hooded eyes for approval then take him in your mouth and jerk the rest of him with your hand.

he groans and bites his pink and undoubtedly swollen bottom lip as you suck and hollow your cheeks around him, even taking him all the way at some points. and though this feels fucking amazing, he wants nothing more than to be inside of you right now.

he holds the base of your neck then squeezes lightly to get you to pull away, spit erotically traveling with your lips. “can i fuck you now?” his voice is perfectly hushed yet demanding in tone.

you nod and matt wipes your lips, “good, take that dress off.” he removes his own shirt and reaches for a spare condom he’d put in his pocket before leaving the house (for no particular reason). he turns back to you, with your breasts now on display for him, ripping the package with his teeth.

you motion for him to give it to you and he complies. somehow even when you’re literally putting a condom over his dick, you’re a sweetheart about it: kissing it once he’s fully covered and turning yourself over onto all fours without him having to ask. because you understand yourself and have the confidence to choose the position you’d like to be fucked in. and matt would be lying if he said that isn't so fucking attractive.

he smirks as he adjusts himself on the bed, feeling out every inch of your full ass before moving his hands to squeeze your waist. you lay your head against the plush comforter, arching yourself further in anticipation. “matt,” you blubber out a whine.

he takes the base of his cock and guides it through your folds, “mhm…i know.” he sees your face twist in amusement, “oh, you like that, huh?”

you lick your lips and nod your head before matt finally pushes himself fully inside of you. his hips start in slow, rhythmic patterns before becoming uncontrolled and incomplete- and the same goes for your moans.

matt's almost hypnotized by the way your ass moves in reaction to his thrusts (slowing himself down just to watch in detail and only speeding up when you start to get really antsy over it).

as you both get sloppier and chase your highs, matt decides to flip you over and tuck your legs into your chest for a different angle. there's something especially needy in the way he rubs at your clit and makes a mess of your tits with his mouth that drives you insane with pleasure.

"my- shit!" you moan harshly under matt.

"hold it," he huffs.

"can't," you whimper, "just-"

"shhh," matt captures your lips as he quickens his pace, feeling his own climax approaching. after a few moments you're breaking the kiss to roll your head away, exposing your neck as you uncontrollably cum around matt.

"fuck," he moans, stilling his movements to maximize his release.

he takes a moment to breathe before removing himself from you, immediately fucking his fingers into you while rubbing your weak clit (just to be annoying) until you push him away and tell him to fuck off.

he lets out a chuckle as he removes the condom and discards it appropriately. when he comes back over to you you're on your side with your own arm wrapped around your waist in comfort.

matt sits next to you, "that good for you?"

you just nod and bite back a smile.

matt hums in pride, running a hand over your exposed ass before leaning down to kiss and suck a dark hickey into the skin.

"c'mere," you tug his hand.

he complies and you turn to open your legs for him once more, grinding a bit once the two of you begin to kiss again.

you reach between the two of you, taking matt's half-hard dick in your hand and stroking. as you pick up your pace he whines and begins to thrust into your hand in need.

until you hear your front door open. to which you push matt off of you and on to the floor, hearing him groan as you snap at him to get in your closet.

you crawl under your comforter while matt hurries to gather his things from your floor and get into your closet.

you hear andrea stumble a little making her way through the house and you catch your breath just as she knocks on your door and cracks it to check if you're sleeping.

"y/n, you awake?" she slurs a whisper.

"yes. hi drea, how'd you get home?"

she opens the door a little further but continues to lean on the door frame, "how did you get home? was lookin' all over like 'where's my girl?' everyone was usless though," she sighs.

"sorry, i took an uber," you giggle, "i got sleepy, i guess."

"mhm...you and me both." she yawns expectedly.

"you should get some sleep, we can talk in the morning, okay?" you smile from your bed.

andrea nods, "'kay, love you." she leaves with a sleepy smile.

"love you," you reply as she shuts the door again.

you let out a relieved breath, glad she hadn't suggested a sleepover like you'd both normally do when drunk.

matt walks out of your closet, almost fully clothed, buckling his belt again, "gave me fucking rug burn, thanks."

you move a hand over your face, "sorry- i just don't need anyone seeing you here."

"'s fine," he shrugs and takes a seat on your bed, "how long is it gonna take her to sleep so i can leave?"

"less than five minutes," you pick at one of your acrylic nails, seeing matt place his jacket on your bed makes you almost laugh to yourself, "shit, i left my jacket at erin's."

matt grins to himself and adds, "shit, i left my car at erin's," with a shake of his head.

you both laugh softly before it fizzles.

matt's back is towards you as he opens his phone to order another uber home. and now the silence brings you back into reality and suddenly you're feeling sick to your stomach about erin.

it takes you a little but you eventually mumble towards his back, "matt you didn’t fuck erin, right?"

"no," his voice sounds distracted and like he wouldn't care even if he did.

you focus on a loose thread in your comforter that you pick at, "...kay. not that it matters 'cause this was only for tonight. but i know i would probably die from guilt knowing i fucked with you after she did."

he turns to see you genuinely out of it and seeming to shelter yourself under your blanket. he leans towards you and rubs your arm softly before whispering, "don't make it a big fucking deal, nothing's different." his stare actually makes you feel far worse but you nod as if you agree anyway.

he stands up and puts his jacket on, “you sleep well okay, sunny?”

"shut the fuck up, you don't care about how i sleep," you whisper.

he breathes a laugh and reaches for your door.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

tag list (ily):

@rootbeerworshiper

[respectthepetty]

The Loyal Pin - Episode 6

The first reason I loved this episode was the fact that this episode began with the girls not only switching patterns (floral vs. lines) but also switching positions.

The second reason I loved this episode was Prik being extra by making noises and motions just to let Pin know that she knew what the lesbians were doing, and it wasn't sleeping.

And the third reason I loved this episode was THE SEX!

Pin and Anin kissing each other wherever and whenever is the kind of romantic storytelling I want to see!

And Pin and Anin having sex wherever and whenever is the kind of historical GL storytelling I want to see.

But as happy as I am that Pink Person Pin wore purple to combine her and Blue Beauty Anin's color,

And that they went on a a little date that paralleled the date that they had before Anin left for England the first time,

There are still color-coded forces (unintentionally) standing between them.

So even though these color-coded girls are in love

And having great sex about it,

Other people will continue to be whole ass problems for them!

(Not Pranot though. He sits at the same table with Prik since they are the only two people who seem to already support queer rights and wrongs!)

Because Anin's color-coded brother is being a big problem!

Anon has been consistently red color-coded, but Anin's oldest brother, Anantawut, who was once blue like her, stayed entirely brown this episode.

Which could be an issue if it means he'll become more traditional, conservative, and predictable.

And although I don't think Pin's mom ever means any harm, she is the epitome of femininity and womanhood.

She can cook. She can clean. She can manage an entire compound of servants all while looking docile, so as much as I love that Pin received the ruby set from Anin's mom for her birthday,

It feels like the jewelry is the first real step into chaining down Pin into a traditional role of womanhood like her mother since this came after the conversation about Pin and Anin needing to get married sooner rather than later.

Normally, red would be passion and heart, which is nice that Anin decided to put red berries on Pin's cake to show her she loved Pin.

But Pin lost her color a bit this episode when she became depressed that Anin was leaving again. Only the tiniest bit of pink lingered at the edge of her dress.

So I think her mother will be even more adamant that Pin get married so she will be too preoccupied with her husband and (new color) to dwell on her best friend being gone, but I think there is an ally in our royal midst!

Anantawut's new wife also seems like the epitome of femininity and womanhood because she can cook, clean, and take care of her prince.

But when I look closer, she is wearing pink AND blue.

And at the lunch where marriage is discussed, she is, once again, wearing pink and blue with a purple skirt (pictured above)

So even though Blue Beauty Anin doesn't have control of her circumstances now.

And neither does Pink Person Pin (who did not deserve to be left without a goodbye!)

I have faith that someone in this family will be able to support the girls when the times come because Prik can't be the only person in this house I respect.

Right?

[marzipanandminutiae]

Hi, this is a bit of a shot in the dark on my end, but I have a fashion inquiry (and I apologize if I sound ridiculous at all; I’m a bit at my wit’s end).

Is there a good way to research forms of casual Victorian garb? I feel like I’m going a bad route by inserting the word ‘Victorian’ into any search because it results in rather fancy things (or modern twists on such that are purchasable). Would it be wiser to site dates in search? Is this going to fruitless?

Sorry for taking up any time if this is out of wheelhouse. But if you do answer, I really appreciate it.

I'll do my best! Focusing on womenswear, because...well, that's what I know best. But if anyone wants to chime in about the gentlemen, please do so!

So, casual Victorian doesn't always read as Casual to us nowadays. Standards of casual clothing- that is, clothing one wears for everyday life when nothing special is going on -were rather higher than we have today.

This is an illustration of matchstick-makers in London's East End c. 1871, done by one Herbert Johnson. The women have their sleeves rolled up and aprons on, but when they leave the factory (rolling their sleeves down, adding hats to go outside- which most of them would have done; it was part of looking Respectable) they might be indistinguishable to us from any other women of the same era wearing not particularly bustle-y skirts. Some of them probably have on the commonplace Matching Skirt And Bodice dress format of the era; others have on blouses made from the same patterns as those worn by middle- and upper-class women.

Also note that they have on ribbons, chokers, earrings...they're just like us. They like wearing things that make them feel Put Together, even though they're doing one of the lowest-valued, most dangerous jobs open to women at the time. Because people have always been people, regardless of time or social class.

And for middle-class women and up, Casual might be even harder to distinguish from "fancy" to us today.

This is a mid-late 1880s day dress with a skirt length suitable for lots of walking, from Augusta Auctions. Could not tell you the social status of the woman who owned it, genuinely. Probably not the absolute poorest of the poor, but beyond that...this is a dress you could potentially wear to run errands. Even to go to work, if your job wasn't especially physical. Because. I don't know. It's a Day Dress. You wear it for day things. It's not especially formal, because then it would be made of a more delicate material and probably have a longer skirt (unless it was a Serious Dancing ball gown). Possibly also a lower neckline and puffed sleeves, if it was exclusively for the most formal events.

The idea that a dress was "fancy" just because it had ornamentation wasn't really in their cultural vocabulary.

Here is a group of women playing croquet in what looks like the early-mid 1870s. They're just hanging out! Having a good time! They're probably middle or upper class, but that's what they wear to chill outside with friends- to play a lowkey sport, even.

So yeah, it can be hard to map Victorian everyday clothing onto our "jeans and t-shirt" understanding of what makes an outfit casual. They had skirts and blouses for most relevant decades, but even those outfits often end up looking formal to us nowadays because of what I call Ballgownification- the idea that, since we only wear clothes that look even vaguely like what they had for extremely dressy occasions, we assume everything we see of their clothing was dressy.

(Someone please ask for my rant about Ballgownification)

Searching for "day dress," "walking dress," "blouse," "blouse waist," and "shirtwaist" (the last for the late 19th-early 20th century when that term became commonplace) might help. Best of luck!

[lolahasmoxie]

Conversations at 3 AM (E.M.)

PAIRING: Eddie Munson x Reader

WORD: 1.3k

WARNING: nudity, language, casual intimacy, established relationship, friends to lovers, mentions of getting pregnant, mentions of sexy times, heart-to-heart talks (Eddie & reader are 25)

CONCEPT: You and Eddie aren't used to people sticking around.

DIVIDER FROM @firefly-graphics

Even though you were born at 6 a.m. on the dot, you were a night owl through and through.

During high school and college, summer meant you became a nocturnal creature, much to the annoyance of your family. There was one person it never annoyed, though.

You had met Eddie in elementary school after he moved into the trailer across from yours. From the day you met, you had been thick as thieves. For years, your friends watched as you skirted the line of will they won't they, watching the other traverse dating and relationships with an envious eye. It wasn't until a year ago, when Eddie kissed you during the middle of a movie night, that you had finally become more.

Tonight, you'd had dinner at Steve's house with the whole gang, seeing as Mike, Dustin, and Lucas were all in town for a long weekend from college. The boys had planned a one-off campaign at your shared apartment the following night, and by midnight, you and Eddie were in your home.

Side by side, you brushed your teeth, trying not to laugh as Eddie made faces at you in the mirror. Once in your Queen bed, Eddie's hands began mapping your body, and in a practiced routine that felt like breathing, you let him love you until sleep came for you both.

However, this time, sleep only came for Eddie.

You had tried everything to fall back asleep: counting sheep, listing Metallica songs followed by Black Sabbath, breathing in time with Eddie. Nothing worked. So, as carefully as you could, you crawled out of his hold, placing your pillow closer to Eddie when he started to stir. As his gangly arms wound around the object, you entered your kitchen.

You had been at the table for a while when you heard soft footsteps coming down the hallway. Turning your head, you watch as your tall metalhead boy walks into the kitchen naked as a jaybird, cock dangling freely as his hands wipe at his eyes like a little boy.

"What time issit." he mumbles as Eddie comes up behind you. He wraps his arms around you, placing a kiss on your hairline. "Why are you still up?"

"Almost 3 a.m. and I tried to go to sleep, but no dice," you say. He nods in understanding before sitting next to you at the table.

"I was having this great dream; you were wearing that black number you wore to our last show at the Hideout? Anyway, you were letting me drag you to the bathroom to do unspeakable things to you when I woke up, and instead of rubbing against my pretty girlfriend, I was humping your pillow. By the way, I'm pretty sure there's a stain, and I'm sorry in advance." You can't help but smile as you dip a carrot into the hummus.

"Didn't want to wake you up. You know how I toss and turn when I can't sleep."

"So there's no reason you're up at almost 3 a.m. eating," he paused as he reached for the container of hummus. "Jalapeno hummus? Holy fuck, you're not pregnant, are you?"

"No, you asshole," you playfully slap Eddie's arm as he tries to play off his terrified expression. "Nice to know how you feel about the topic, though."

"I'm just warning you, we could be on a babymaking schedule to get knocked up; I will still probably freak the fuck out when it does happen, so just a heads up for when we get there."

"Duly noted." you chuckle. Eddie laces his hand into yours and brings them to his lips. You can feel his eyes on you; you know Eddie will give you your space to work out whatever is going on in your brain. But he's also a persistent asshole who won't stop until he finds out why you left him alone in bed. "Does this ever feel too good, Eds?"

"What do you mean?"

"Us. I mean, we disagree on things, but we never really fight. Being together with you has always just felt scarily easy; I've never had that with other boyfriends." You sigh as you look at your joined hands. "Feels like I'm waiting for something, but I don't know for what."

"Easy, I know what it is," Eddie says as he gives your hand a squeeze. "You're waiting for the other shoe to drop." When you meet his gaze, those cow-brown eyes study you, looking at you with more love than you think you can handle.

"Elaborate, please."

"You and I have always been alike," he begins. "our dating histories are littered with people telling us we were too much. Too loud, too needy, or too whatever. But here's the good part, babe. You will never be too much for me. Ever."

"You mean it?" You're impressed that he could sum up your feelings so succinctly. He grins at you, a beautiful smile spreading from ear to ear.

"Of course I mean it. I had to watch you date assholes for ten years; you really think I'm gonna let you go now that I'm lucky enough to call you mine? Not a chance, sweetheart." You reach out a hand and cup his cheek, and you can't help but smile when Eddie leans into your touch.

"Thank you, Eddie."

"No problem; you know, I had resigned myself to loving you from afar a long time ago. Sometimes, when I wake up next to you, I feel like I gotta pinch myself to make sure it's real."

"You're such a cheeseball," you tease. "Why don't you head back to bed? I'm gonna clean up and join you in a minute." You stand from your chair, but Eddie stops you with a tug of your hand. In a flash, you're on his lap. Your hands hold onto his shoulders, although you're in no danger of falling. Edde's grip is secure as he gives you a look you are all too familiar with. You speak his name, and he raises a hand to push the hair from your face.

"You know, it was very mean to leave me in that big bed all by myself," he begins, his hand cupping your cheek. You feel your body warm as his thumb caresses your cheek. "Why don't you let me take you back to bed and help quiet that big brain of yours. Sound good, sweetheart?"

You lean in to kiss your man, his arms wrapping tight around you as he fists your shirt in his hands. When his tongue runs along the seam of your lips, you happily grant him access, tangling your hands in his hair while you slowly start to grind against him. When you feel him hard and warm underneath you, you think you may never want to sleep again.

You both enjoy the kiss, neither of you rushing things. You pull back when you need air, and while Eddie's face is happy, there's something else. You raise an eyebrow as he licks his lips.

"You taste like salsa." You can't help but laugh as you lean forward and bury your nose in his neck. He pulls you closer, hands caressing your back like you're the most precious being in his universe. You can feel his chuckle as your chests press together.

You stay still for a moment to enjoy being surrounded by him. One of the things you loved about being nocturnal was how quiet the world was at almost 3 a.m. You hum contentedly when you feel Eddie's lips against your hair. You close your eyes, wanting to commit this moment, this feeling to memory.

"Alright," Eddie taps you on the ass and breaks the silence. "Let me take you back to bed, alright?" You climb out of his lap and softly kiss the corner of his mouth.

"I'll go brush my teeth. Why don't you go make sure the bed is warm." Eddie hops up, cock bobbing comically as he begins to do a naked run back to your room.

"I'll keep the home fires burning! If I fall asleep, wake me up with head!"

BONUS: THE NEXT DAY

Dustin: I'm just gonna have a seat here, and we can get started.

Eddie: fair warning, my naked ass has been on that chair.

Dustin: 😳

Dustin: like, recently naked?

Eddie: last night.

Dustin: you're a fucking animal.

Eddie: 😁

[starkwlkr]

Could you please do a ruby/baby leclerc imagine where she's a bit older and Charles being the overprotective dad, tells her she can't wear that and she has to change, and they fall out and then make up again

teen angst | charles leclerc

give my girl ruby a break, charles!! and for this, ruby is aged up to 18 and mathéo is 14 so double the teen angst for charles 😳 also sorry charles, you’re sticking with ferrari in this one until idk

Charles was looking for his family. He had even called Y/n, but she didn’t answer. He was getting frustrated, but all his worries left when he saw his wife of many years walk into the Ferrari garage with their two kids by her side. Even after all this time, he felt like a teenager in love with her.

“I was beginning to think you forgot about me.” Charles teased, giving his wife a kiss on the lips to greet her.

“I would never.” Y/n smiled at her husband. “We’re going to go see Pierre for a bit before the race begins. Ruby wants to wish him good luck.”

“Where is my good luck— wait, what are you wearing, Ruby Jules?” Charles looked at his daughter’s outfit. She had a black skirt and a cropped shirt.

“I found it in maman’s closet. She said she wore it on a first date.” Ruby said.

“No, I remember what she wore on our first date and it wasn’t that. We went to her favorite restaurant and she wore a black dress.” Charles confirmed.

“I said she wore it for a first date, papa, i didn’t mean yours.” Ruby teased and kissed her father’s cheek. “Bye, I’m going to see uncle Pierre. Good luck, old man.” Then she left in search of the Frenchman.

“Can I go see uncle Daniel?” Mathéo eagerly asked.

“In a second, baby. Your papa looks like he’s about to faint. What’s wrong, Charles?” Y/n asked.

“Y/n, did you not tell her to change?” Charles sighed. “I have a jacket in my drivers room, let me go get it.”

Before Charles could leave, Y/n stopped him. “Charles, it’s hot today and you’re going to make her wear a jacket? She looks nice.”

“I think she still looks ugly.” Mathéo added.

“Théo, what did i tell you about making fun of your sister?”

“She’s not here so it doesn’t count!”

Charles shook his head. “What if I give her a Ferrari shirt? I think I have one—“

“No one is changing. Charles, just accept that our little girl is growing up and her style is changing. She’s not going to wear shirts with rainbows on them anymore.” Y/n tried to get her husband to understand, but he still wasn’t convinced.

“I’m still not happy about it.” He mumbled.

“I know.”

As the Monaco national anthem played while Charles stood on the podium, he kept a close eye on his little girl, even if she was considered an adult in most countries. Ruby could tell he was mad about the outfit, but she didn’t see any problem with it. If her mother wore it years ago, why couldn’t she?

“I’ll be in dad’s driver’s room. Maybe he can actually celebrate without babysitting me from the podium.” Ruby rolled her eyes. She kissed her mother’s cheek and excused herself from the people around her.

Charles’ eyes still followed her until she was out of sight. He then mumbled a ‘what?’ to his wife wondering why Ruby had left even though the ceremony wasn’t done yet. His wife just shook her head.

Shit he thought to himself.

After the ceremony, he only had one person on his mind. His Ruby Jules.

“Go talk to her, she’s upset. She’s in your drivers room. Y/n said.

“Now can we go see uncle Daniel?” Mathéo asked for the millionth time.

Charles made his way to his drivers room, occasionally thanking people who congratulated him on his win. When he stood infront of the door to his room, he knocked them waited a couple seconds.

“Mon chéri? It’s papa. Can I come in?”

“It’s your room, dad.” Ruby said softly.

Charles turned the doorknob and opened the door. He found Ruby seated on the tiny sofa on her phone. “I saw you left before the could spray you with the champagne.” He tried to lighten up the mood.

“I’ve seen you do it many times.” Ruby mumbled.

Charles stayed silent for a bit since he didn’t really know how to even speak to her without making her upset. He didn’t remember himself being this difficult to talk to when he was a teen, or was he? He was definitely going to ask him mother about it later.

“I know you don’t like my outfit. But I like it and maman likes it too. These are hers after all.” Ruby spoke, breaking the silence between them.

“Your maman and I had a talk and I have to accept that you’re growing up. But you’re my Ruby Jules, my little girl. You know when you were small, you would always ask for ice cream at every race. . . Do you still want to get ice cream?” Charles asked the teen.

Ruby cracked a smile. Of course she remembered always asking for ice cream. That was her thing. “I do. But are you really mad about my outfit?”

“Furious? No, but you are growing up and you’re not going to wear rainbow shirts or princess fairy dresses anymore so if you like to dress like this then I say you look pretty.” Charles nodded.

“Princess fairy dresses,” Ruby chuckled. “For my nineteenth birthday, I say we bring back the princess fairy theme. I miss it.”

[heeseungwifey]

Does Layla need a mom?

pairing: jake x y/n

warning: contains smut!

It’s a chilly night so I’ve decided to go for some thighs with my mini skirt. I wish I could just ignore the cold for my Tinder date tonight but I should put my health first. I’m meeting a new guy called Jake, by his profile I know he’s 21, has gorgeous lips and a dog. That’s all I’m looking for in a man these days, someone I can have fun with. 

I order an Uber and go down the stairs, already kinda late for the reservation at the fancy Italian restaurant where we’re having our date. He made the reservation a week ago, he swears it’s the best food I’ll try in town. I get in the Uber and send him a message.

“Sorry, I'll be a few minutes late, traffic!” I sent it as the Uber driver was waiting on a red light. 

“No worries, I’m already here. I hope you do show up and not leave me stranded haha” Jake sends a smiley emoji and I get he’s nervous about this date too. We’ve been talking for a few weeks, friendly but also quite flirty, some texts getting borderline sexting. I’ve been trying not to overthink about how this night could end, but the thought of getting into this man’s bed has kept me zoning out since he asked me out. 

“Here it is lady, have a good night!” I get out of the car and thank the Uber driver, getting into the restaurant as fast as I can so I don’t ruin my hair in the rain. when I walk in, I scan the room to look for Jake, quickly spotting him at the end of the restaurant. He’s wearing a leather jacket, his hair pushed back and a neck chain, looking so good I almost got embarrassed to approach him. It would have been too late to escape since he already saw me, getting up and shaking his hand in the air so I could see him. 

“Hello! Wow you look gorgeous y/n” Jake kisses me on the cheek and I get to smell his perfume, manly and sexy. I sit down and take a sweet time to appreciate how he looks, admire his tan skin, his big nose, his beautiful smile and his hands, wishing that those would be touching me in a couple of hours. He’s doing the same as me, scanning me from head to toe with a sultry stare.

“You look really good too Jake, I’m kind of surprised you’re just not wearing basketball shorts or a striped shirt” I joke since in all his pictures on Instagram he’s wearing one of these two clothing pieces, even both of the same time sometimes. He looks ridiculously gorgeous tonight. 

“Well I have to show off for tonight, need to make a good impression”

“Sure you are”

Dinner was fantastic, everything was delicious and we talked all the time we were sitting there as if we had known each other since forever. Jake had come with his car so he offered to take me home. I felt uncomfortable asking to go to his house even though I really wanted to, so I made an excuse to be with him for a little bit more. 

“I know a cool bar right around here, would you like to go? Let’s not end the date just yet” I looked up on Google Maps a bar next to his house just to hang out there for a bit, have a drink and see where the night took us. The next thing I know is that each of us has drunk at least 3 cocktails and it’s almost 2 a.m.

“My house is quite close to this bar, if you want to crash, I know I said I would take you home but I don’t think I can drive right now, a uber right now is gonna be impossible to find” Jake has his arm around my shoulders, his hair messy and he had to take his jacket off because of how hot he was. His house is a 15-minute walk away, which helps us get refreshed as we get to his door. 

“Here we are, welcome to my house!” Jake opens the door and a modern and minimalist decor fills my sight. it’s obvious it’s a single man’s house by the posters and figurines he has but it’s done with good taste, giving a personal touch.

“Omg is this Layla? you’re so pretty and fluffy!” Jake’s dog approaches me right as I walk in, excitedly shaking her tail and giving little jumps. He has previously talked about her dog at the restaurant, showing me pictures of her as a puppy and all. 

“She seems to like you, I don’t often see her this excited” Jake closes the door and takes his jacket off, hanging it on the entrance coat rack. He gets behind me and grabs my bag and my coat, hanging it as well. 

“It’s kinda crazy that I’m staying at your house, I don’t know what you’re gonna think of me” I say as a joke but deep down I do want to give him a good impression and as much as I would love to rip his clothes off right now, 

“It's kind of stupid If I thought anything bad about you y/n. I hope you know I’m very excited that you’re here right now. Just knowing we get to be a few more minutes together is already giving me a rush”

I look at him and he’s standing there, looking so handsome in this light, the air feeling heavy. I move to the sofa, sitting there first as he follows me around inside his own house. He turns on the TV and we’re sitting there like dummies, watching whatever is on. I am nervous, the expectation growing more and more each second. 

“what the hell are we doing?” Jake says as he’s getting closer to me, facing me as I’m resting my back on the couch. When he’s just inches away from my lips, Layla jumps on the sofa, right in between us. 

“Layla! you scared me, fuck” Jake moves to the other side of the sofa, being attacked by Layla’s kisses. I laugh from the other side, the view so endearing I almost forgot he’s just a Tinder date and this will end soon.

“Do you want me to lend you some clothes to sleep in? A T-shirt and some shorts perhaps?” Jake is standing right in front of me, waiting for my answer, looking for an excuse to get out of Layla’s insistence. 

“yes, thank you! where’s the bathroom by the way? I need to take my make-up off” I get up fast as he walks to his bedroom to pick up the clothes. 

“It’s here, hold on… let me give you the clothes so you can change. I also have make-up remover in the cabinet” Jake rumbles around his closet and comes back with a white t-shirt with a logo on it and some Nike shorts, handing them to me. 

When I finished changing and getting my make-up off I glanced at myself in the mirror. I look so bare in this look, just how I would look at the solitude of my own house. It’s kinda crazy that this is how I choose to show myself in front of my date, who I have known for just a few hours. I guess Jake has something that just makes me blindly trust him. 

As I’m coming out of the bathroom I hear the TV, the volume turned down so it’s low. When I walk into the living room, Jake is lying on the couch with a tight t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Layla lies right next to him, looking adorable with her fluffy fur. He looks a bit sleepy but as I walk into his sight, he opens his eyes and gets up. 

“Do you want to watch a movie or something? I don’t sleep too much so I always stay up late watching TV. Right now there’s this 50’s romantic movie, I don’t know if you would like it” Jake looks at me as I’m standing there, his eyes trying not to look at my nipples, visible through the t-shirt he gave me. I’m also quite careful not to get caught looking at his bulge, way too noticeable in those sweats.

“I don’t care really, it’s just background noise to me” I say as I’m sitting next to him, he grabs my hands and pulls me in between his legs. His big hands hold mine as he looks at me in the eyes, the TV light illuminating his face in a beautiful blue. He looks mesmerizing, so much so that I can’t hold myself any longer and I kiss him. His sweet, plump lips capture mine with the same intensity as mine, gasping for air every time we separate. 

Jake grabs the back of my thighs and sits me on his lap, his hands groping my ass and massaging it. I feel an overwhelming heat on my cheeks, all the pent-up neediness flowing out from us. He wanted this as much as I did. It’s surreal a man like this would want me so bad. 

“Baby, let’s go to the bedroom” Jake says in between kisses as he picks me up from his lap and takes me to his bedroom. I’m not thinking about anything else right now but his lips, his hands and the burning pain I’m feeling in my groin, growing worse each second I feel no relief. 

When we get to the bedroom, Jake throws me onto the bed, closing the door behind him. The bedroom is nicely decorated, filled with blue and wood. Seeing the details of how he chooses to decorate his house gives me more knowledge about him, filling in the gaps of the missing info I have about him. As I’m laying there, he moves swiftly to the side of the bed, where he turns on a bedside lamp. Lights on tonight I guess. 

“Tell me what you like baby, I’m all ears” Jake is standing right at the feet of the bed, in front of me lying in his bed. Many dirty thoughts go through my head, and I could ask for many favours. I don’t have words to describe how bothered I am by his presence, getting hornier with every second he spends waiting for me to voice my desires. 

“take your t-shirt off, slowly. And then take mine” I ask, not much but just enough for now. Jake doesn’t say a word, he just follows. Grabs the hem of his t-shirt and peels it off, showing his defined abs and honey skin. His hair is messy now and his eyes are fixed on the t-shirt he lent me, planning on taking it off as soon as possible. From where he stands he grabs my ankles and pulls me to the edge of the bed, my feet touching the floor and sitting there like a doll. His hands are placed on my waist under the t-shirt, caressing my body as he pushes it up, arms up and for a second I get struck when I get to see his face again, both of us semi-naked and getting more and more desperate for what’s about to happen. 

“Tell me, princess, what else do you want me to do?” Jake is almost touching my lips with his, the kiss from before hitting my mind and leaving me desperate for another one. I pull him by his neck onto my lips, clashing hard as we lay on the bed, him on top of me. As we are kissing, his hand snakes up to the pants that I’m wearing, pulling them slowly, leaving me completely naked. I waste no time and do the same to him, unsuccessfully though. He stops me and breaks the kiss, taking them off himself. My sight is indescribable, his naked body bathed by the warm light of the lamp and desire burning in his eyes. 

My hands travel from his shoulders to his hip bone, feeling the softness of his skin and his body heat. I touch his member, now hard and red, and Jake hisses at the feeling. I give it slow strokes, enjoying how his eyebrows stitch up and his mouth can only moan and whimper just cause of my touch. As I start going faster, he falls on his back on the bed, giving me full access to now suck him off. I get on top of him and slowly start with my tongue, tiny licks to the top and getting my saliva all around it. When it’s covered I put it all in my mouth, bottom it thanks to Jake pushing my head all the way down. He’s grabbing the back of my head, trying to regain some control over the situation but he’s very obviously gone. When he starts whining and whimpering I know he’s right there, going faster. He tries to stop me but fails miserably, cumming all in my mouth and face. 

“wow, you’re going strong y/n, I don’t know if I can keep up with you” he lays there breathing heavily as I’m cleaning my face, his sight lost on the ceiling. “Well the ball’s on your court now, how are you gonna pay me for the best blowjob you’ve received in your entire life?” I say cockily as I get close to his face. His eyes look at me, foggy and lost in lust and suddenly I see a spark in them, knowing instantly he has gotten an idea on how he’s gonna pay me. 

“Sit on my face, you’ve won it” Jake grabs my leg and gets it on the other side of his body, now I’m straddling his ribcage. His hands push me by my hips closer to his head, my hands grabbing the headboard so I don’t fall. I can feel Jake’s warm breath on my pussy, his plump lips just inches away from my heat. I feel his wet tongue first, circling around my clit and giving kitten licks as I’m desperately trying to not sit down on his head and choke him. When he starts using his tongue, lapping my folds with hunger I can’t control my sounds any longer and start moaning like I’m possessed. His lips feeling so good and skillfully mixing his mouth with two fingers I come fast on his face, losing all my strength and falling back onto the bed with his head still between my legs. A few minutes pass and I feel Jake getting up and moving my body by my ankles, placing me in the middle of the bed. 

“Did that feel good baby? I’ve never seen anyone react like that… it was so hot I also came with you, twice tonight already. And I haven’t even been inside you yet” Jake’s hair looks messy and sexy, especially knowing it’s because of our recent activities. His lips are even plumper if possible and a layer of sweat covers his chest and abs. I sit up and touch his body instinctively, caressing his hip bone and looking at him in the eyes. 

“Bend over baby” his strong arms flip me over, getting me on all fours. His eyes went straight to my drenched and pulsating pussy, placing himself right on my entrance. “Mhmm, it felt so good Jake…fuck I can’t take it any longer, please… just fuck me already”

He moves slowly, for a second unsure if he should be doing this, but when he stretches me so good that I moan loudly, his movements go crazy, railing me like an animal, his hair all stuck to his forehead and his eyes shut, trying to keep up with the pace. He bites his fist but is to no avail as moans just escape from his mouth, his movements going erratic and losing focus. I feel the bed move like it’s gonna break, my moans have become screams at this point and I’m lost in the feeling, my hair all over my face and sweat sticking the sheets onto my body. 

“Jake, Jake, I’m going to… I can’t hold it anymore… I’m gonna…” can’t even say a whole sentence, the feeling not letting me think properly as all I feel like the heat in my tummy is gonna explode at any second. 

“Do it, c’mon baby, I want to see you come on my dick, let it go…” Jake takes one of his hands to my clit, massaging it and making me come in seconds. I lose sight for a second, everything is blurry as I hear Jake moan loudly, coming inside me and falling on top of me. His head on my chest, I hug his head as we both recover our breaths, the moment feeling so intimate I can’t stop myself from giving him a kiss on the forehead.

I’m pretty sure we fell asleep like that for like fifteen minutes, hugging each other as all we had was each other’s body heat to keep warm. I wake up by the sound of scratching on the bedroom door, obviously being Leyla waiting for his owner to give her food. Jake gets up from top of me and walks to the door, closing it behind him as soon as Leyla starts jumping excitedly. I’m left there quite sad, missing how close we were just a few seconds ago. 

“Hey, sorry, I forgot to put water in Leyla’s bowl before and she was quite thirsty. But hey, I just turned the water on, do you want to take a bath? It’s probably hot by now” Jake is sitting on the border of the bed, caressing my tummy as I’m still too tired to get up. I look at him and feel a sense of dreadness, I don’t wanna lose whatever we have right now between each other. Leaving his house today could mean this is over, that we’re just a one-night stand for each other and that’s it.

I take his hand and he lifts me up from the bed, lending me a bathrobe so I don’t get cold on the way to the bathroom. when we get there, there’s a few candles lighten up and the whole room smells like lavender, calming and cozy. 

“Get in the bathtub, I’ll prepare some towels for when we get out” I step inside the bathtub, the warm water soothing my body from the intense workout. Jake gets into the bathtub and we’re sitting there looking at each other, just like we were at the restaurant earlier. I almost feel like crying, so I close my eyes and push my head back to rest on the wall.

“Are you good? you look super tired” Jake asks, but I don’t feel like answering right now or my voice will break. So he sits there, reaching for my hand and worried I’m actually in pain. But the pain it’s not physical, and I wish he had just let me go to my house by taxi today. I feel like shit right now, enjoying the last minutes of the most beautiful date I’ve ever been on. 

“Did I do something wrong? Are you hurt anywhere?” His tone was serious and worried, his eyes fixated on my face. I open my eyes and it’s obvious that I’m on the verge of tears, my eyes watery and red. 

“It’s okay, I’m just a bit tired, today has been a long day for me” 

“I don’t believe you, I don’t think that’s what’s happening. You looked so happy a few minutes ago coming on my dick, and now you’re tired? Do you think I’m gonna believe that? Please tell me what’s going on”

Jake sounds mad at me, scared that now everything’s done I’m acting so cold towards him. I can’t tell him the truth, it is so embarrassing and delusional that I might scare him off. 

“It’s okay Jake, I just need to go home and sleep a little bit. I had fun don’t be mistaken, but I think is time I go back to my bed and keep on going with my life” I come off as a bitch, looking for a way out of this conversation that was gonna end by me ridiculizing myself in front of the hottest man I know. If I give him the idea that I’m always up for something casual I might get to see him again. 

“I don’t know what the fuck has happened for you to say this, but if you want to sleep here I have no issue with it if that’s what you’re worried about. I thought we had a great time tonight, maybe I’ve been a bit rough or you didn’t feel comfortable with me… I don’t know if you’re under the impression that I have used you to have sex but you couldn’t be more mistaken”

There’s an uncomfortable silence, the only sounds being the distant sound of the TV in the living room and Leyla walking around the house outside the bathroom door. I look at him and his eyes are lost, a hundred thoughts going through his head, trying to find where it went wrong tonight.

“It’s not that I didn’t like it, I actually hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. I guess I’m a bit sensitive since it was a bit too… intimate. Like, this is just a hookup, I shouldn’t be feeling this way about what we have done but… I wish It had meant more for the both of us”

“Listen y/n, it’s been a long time since I’ve gone on a date. I was very excited to go with you tonight since I thought we had great chemistry on our back-and-forth texts. I do feel different about you than I have felt about any other woman I have talked to on that damn app…”

I look at him and his arms are resting on each side of the bathtub, his skin glistening and a perfect view of his chest. It makes me crave for a hug in the comfort of his embrace. 

“I like you more than I thought I would so early into knowing each other. I have enjoyed this night with you so much that’s gonna screw me up forever, being honest” I confess, my head turned to the wall so I don’t see his reaction to such a statement. 

I don’t have to look at him, his arms grabbing mine and getting me closer to him. His lips on mine, so fierce and hungry, I’ve lost control of the situation and now I’m just being french kissed as water splashes everywhere, my legs on each side of his lap.

“Me too…  I felt like a dumbass, being so intense… I don’t wanna let you go, ever” his kisses move to my neck and chest, and my hands can’t do much but hold his hair on my fist as I try not to moan too loudly at 4 a.m.

The next morning I lay there, on his bed. The sheets are everywhere, victims of our last night endeavours. A subtle smell of coffee and toasted bread comes into the bedroom, getting me up instantly and wandering to the kitchen. 

There he is, early morning with wet hair from the shower and a clean black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Layla runs around the kitchen, excited about her breakfast just as I am. When I walk into his vision, Jake looks at me with the brightest smile and comes to hug me, kissing my head and caressing my back. 

“Good morning baby, did you rest well?” his warmth irradiating through his t-shirt and feeling incredibly comforting.

“Yeah I did, I haven’t slept this well in a long time” I snuggle on his chest, his arms reaching for the frypan and moving it aside, so the scrambled eggs don’t burn. 

When we’re done with the breakfast, a long silence between us arises. It’s comfortable but at the same time, it scares me that it'll make us talk about our feelings. Thankfully Layla jumps on my lap, wanting to play with me. If this ends I’m also gonna miss her and I just met her. 

“Damn, Layla has never acted like this with anyone before, it’s crazy… She likes you a lot. It's just like she has accepted you’re her mom or something haha” Jake says, fascinated by how his dog is acting towards a total stranger to her, like she has known me since forever.  

“So… does Layla need a mom?”

“Yeah, her dad needs a mom too” Jake looks at me and we start laughing, filling the house with the sound of our laughter, the smell of toast and a happy Layla, who gets to have a mom from that day on.

[pupyuj]

I came here to ask for some Yujin thoughts bestie❤ So how about soccer player G!P Yujin (Because cock yes) being a massive pervert and having the biggest crush on popular girl reader. Reader is dating someone on Yujin's team that Yujin isn't close with and she just can't help but jerk off and then fucking the reader.

ah, it's my favorite fellow casual yujin enjoyer 🥺

it's really not yujin's fault that you're gorgeous, okay??? the first time you visited the soccer field to visit your boo, you were wearing an outfit that accentuated your curves so good that yujin had to run to the locker rooms bcs she got a terrible boner🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️ever since then, she has had this massive crush on you and no matter what she did, she couldn't get over it! not with how you smiled at her in the hallways, or how you would sometimes wave at her during practices and games, or how you discreetly send her a wink or two from time to time 😵‍💫 it was dangerous, it was wrong, and it was not like yujin at all but.. really though, nobody can blame her 🤭🤭

as horny as she was for you, yujin would never let anybody catch her jacking off to you in school! she would be in the safety of her own home, in her room, where she sat on her bed and furiously pumped her hand in and our of her cock,, the memory of your thighs and the slightest bit of your ass cheeks that showed due to the short skirt you were wearing that day stuck in her pervy little head,, she would look so cute too... she just finished studying and wanted to tuck in for night so ofc she would wear her favorite hoodie but fuck she just had to remember you and now here she was, in her loser fit jerking off to her team member's girlfriend 😩

she even moans your name sometimes... and it's probably one of the many things you have that she thinks is pretty! likes to imagine you sucking her off messily, or taking her thick cock in your ass to push herself over the edge 😵‍💫 baby grabbing the sheets and coming all over her blankets :((( probably gets wet dreams of you too!! wakes up all hard in the morning and jacks off once again in the showers.. she's very much obsessed 🥺💕

yujinnie nearly getting a heart attack when she sees you in the locker rooms after practice, half bent over the sink while you touched up your makeup,, fuck she was getting hard at the sight of your skirt bunching up a bit while you leaned over,, "hi, yuj. think you can help me here? i have a date." and ofc yujin doesn't hesitate and immediately comes to your aid... and she looked so cute! hair up, a bit sweaty from practice so her shirt stuck to her skin and showed you the faint outline of her abs, and fuck... that tent in her pants... that huge fucking dick she could never hide even when she tried 😋😋

holding your hair up and asking yujin to kindly assist you in putting it around your neck 🥺 her shaky hands working around you to successfully lock the beautiful necklace behind you. yujinnie making sure the pendant lays on your collarbone and accidentally brushes her hand against your boob, which of course got you smirking bcs god.. how adorable. "do i look pretty, yujin?" to which of course yujin pathetically nodded her head to bcs what else was she going to say?

taking her hands and putting them on your boobs,, you were surprised at how she didn't even hesitate to fight her urges bcs she immediately squeezed and pressed her hard cock against you, even lifting your skirt up just to see how perfect your ass looks on her dick... slipping one of her hands inside your panties and moaning at the feeling of your wet folds?? so pathetic, you could feel her precum leaking through her shorts 😵‍💫 "what're you waiting for, yujin? fuck me. i have a date." you said again and yujin doesn't wait another second before she spins you around,, as much as you'd love to make out with yujin until her head was spinning, you didn't want to mess up your makeup and risk getting found out..

instead, you grabbed yujin shirt and started kissing up her neck, leaving lipstick marks, hickeys, driving her insane once you found all the spots that only made her dick harder.. licking up her sweat, making sure your tongue runs along her jawline.. feeling her sticky abs underneath her shirt—god she was so hot.. how you fucking wished she could pound you every night 😵‍💫😵‍💫

yujinnie lifting you you up, your lower back against the sink, arms on top of the counter to support yourself while she raised your legs over her shoulders and fucked your tight cunt 😩 both of you having the hardest time not to make any sounds just in case anybody was lingering nearby but yujin was too fast, too deep inside, and feels too fucking good that you didn't even bother anymore after a few minutes... her being so turned on at the sight of her big cock disappearing inside your little pussy, somehow managing to sneak a hand between your legs and rub your swollen clit, practically making you scream and lock your legs around her neck...

"mhm.. bet you're such a fucking perv that y-you've thought about this exact situation a lot, huh? a-ah, fuck...! t-that's—shit—that's okay... you're so fucking cute."

"such a bad teammate... fucking one of your buddies' girlfriend.. what would they say if they knew, hm? y-you—"

"please, shut up." yujin gripping your thighs harder and somehow quickening her pace. moans freely escaping her lips, she just couldn't help it :((( pushing her cock deep inside you as she came, rope after rope of cum spilling inside your wills and filling you up like your partner never could?? you fucking knew cheating was worth it, especially if it was for someone as good as yujin 🫣🤨

yujinnie letting her cock sit inside you for a while bcs it just fit so perfectly in there :((( plus, you felt warm, and she liked the way you brushed your fingers through her hair,, "next time, you're taking me home." you whispered, almost laughing when you felt her cock get hard again bcs the thought truly had her mind reeling 😩

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

pretty boy | jeonghan

I can't help myself from writing enemies to lovers Jeonghan, because he provides the source material himself. Also big thanks to Hani @vanillacheol for letting me use her name and likeness to a) provide our MC with a bestie and b) provide Seungcheol with a girlfriend. Anyway, here are the details: Word count: 8.3k Summary: After a complicated first date, you swear to hate Jeonghan forever, but fate has other plans >:) Genre: E2L, academic rivals to lovers, royalty au kind of, college au kind of Warnings: reader is referred to using feminine pronouns and other identifiers, reader is mentioned to be wearing a skirt and a gown on separate instances, Jeonghan calls reader "princess" a lot (because she is), there are pranks mentioned, pressure to choose someone to marry is mentioned, lots of name-calling, a couple of arguments, lots of kissing, some suggestive language, some brief actual bullying (not between Jeonghan and MC), long-hair Jeonghan (def needs a warning), and Jeonghan is an absolute menace as per usual.

“Are you listening to me?” your friend Hani asks, bringing you back down to earth.

The truth is, you hadn’t been listening to her at all. You’d been miles away in your mind, daydreaming of home. “I’m sorry,” you say sheepishly. “Would you mind repeating?”

Hani rolls her eyes. “I was asking,” she says pointedly, “if you’ve got a flight for my birthday ball yet.”

“Of course,” you reply. “Why?”

She fidgets nervously — a telltale sign she’s hiding something. “Oh, no reason,” she says, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. 

Your grin drops. “He’s coming,” you realize. “Jeonghan is coming to your birthday ball after all.”

“I know what you’re going to say, and I need you to be rational about it. Jeonghan is Seungcheol’s best friend, and I couldn’t just not invite him.” Hani plays with her pearl bracelet, a gift from her boyfriend, and avoids eye contact with you. She’s gotten more assertive since she started her relationship with Seungcheol, the prince of a nearby country, who’d fallen in love with your friend at freshman orientation at your posh private college. They’d been together for a year and a half, and six months ago she never would’ve said any of that to you, carefully concealing her real feelings behind a placid smile. 

It’s for this reason you’re grateful for Seungcheol. He’s helped your friend feel confident and strong, and you can tell how much he loves her. He’s also kind and thoughtful and genuine and funny, very down-to-earth despite being a prince, and full of good advice when you need it. Becoming his friend has been a huge perk of the relationship he has with Hani. 

The one major downside? Yoon Jeonghan. He’s Seungcheol’s best friend from home, the son of a high-ranking military leader in Seungcheol’s home country, and apparently they were raised like brothers. Unlike sweet and harmless Seungcheol, though, Jeonghan is a devil in disguise. Blessed with the face of a fairy prince, with intellect to match, he was confident to the point of arrogance and seemed to always get exactly what he wanted. He could sweet-talk even the strictest professors into extending deadlines just for him, and had a penchant for connecting especially accommodating students and teachers to job opportunities and networking events and even really nice favors — once he paid for one of the school secretaries to fly to a tropical island with her new husband just because she straightened out an attendance issue for him. 

You had butt heads with Jeonghan almost upon first sight, which had coincidentally been on a date that Hani insisted you go on. “You’ll love him,” she had oozed. 

“Are you sure you’re not just trying to fulfill your lifelong dream of us dating brothers?” you’d grumbled, trying to avoid showing how nervous you’d been.

“They’re not really brothers,” Hani had reminded you, “but of course I would love it if you dated Jeonghan for real. He’s perfect for you, trust me.”

She’d had to eat her words when you came home from the date soaked to the bone, a murderous glare in your eyes. “He is without a doubt the most bull-headed, self-important, cocky, absolutely despicable human being I’ve ever met. I never want to see him again,” you’d fumed. 

“What happened?” Hani had exclaimed, rushing to grab you a towel. She listened sympathetically as you recounted how it had all gone down.

It had actually started off well. Jeonghan struck you as the kind of person who could make a brick wall feel clever and important, and he was a perfect gentleman at first. He’d even addressed you as “my lady”, a reference to your position as eldest princess of a small island country, until you begged him to relax, but the level of decorum he’d approached you with had bolstered your confidence a bit.

“So...princess,” he’d said cautiously after you’d insisted he call you by your name, and you’d rolled your eyes at this. “How’s the island these days?”

“Are you asking me about foreign policy on our date?” you had asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No, I’m asking you about your home,” he’d countered. “What’s it like there? It’s one of the few places I’ve never been.”

“Oh, really?” Your eyes lit up. “Well, it’s much warmer than it is here.”

“Naturally,” Jeonghan had said. “Do you miss that?”

“More than anything,” you’d said, frowning at the snow falling in soft piles outside. “Near the palace is this one stretch of beach -- you sort of have to hike through a small jungle to get there, but nothing too bad, you know -- and when it snows like this I have to remind myself that it still exists and I can go back there one day.”

Jeonghan grinned. “What does it look like?”

“Well, there’s a thick treeline since it’s just past the woods, but that means it’s very private. It’s got the most beautiful sand -- it’s pink!”

“Pink sand?” Jeonghan had repeated, his head propped up by one hand as he gazed at you, rambling on excitedly. 

“Yeah, it’s from a micro-organism that lives in the coral reefs that grow around the island. There are a few different pink beaches on our island, but this one is special. Hardly anyone knows about it. Seokmin -- my cousin, you know, the theater major -- found it first, and I’ve been going there ever since.” You caught sight of him watching you and felt your face heat up. “Uh, sorry. I got carried away.”

“No, no, it was cute,” he reassured you, which made you feel even more embarrassed. 

“What about you?” you had asked, and you’d listened with rapt attention as Jeonghan had described the mountainous region he hailed from, with so many clever little asides that made you laugh. You were generally more of a “black cat” type personality, but Jeonghan was bringing out an eager, girlish side of you that almost no one got to see. He made you feel like your blood had become carbonated -- like little tiny bubbles were flowing all over your body, all tingly and excited.

The conversation had lasted hours, covering everything from your families (yours was close, his was rather distant) to your favorite foods (seafood for you, fried chicken for him) to the most unusual kinds of music you liked (film scores for you, musical theater songs for him). Finally, with all your food eaten and the drinks all but drained from their fancy bottles, it had come time to talk about education. “If you weren’t a princess, what would you be studying?” Jeonghan had asked. 

“I think I would still want to learn about public policy, especially as it relates to nonprofits,” you had replied. “At my core, I want to use what I know to help others, and there’s almost no easier way to do that than improve the legal conditions for charity work.”

Jeonghan nodded thoughtfully. “You might be the biggest nerd I’ve ever met,” he finally said with a grin.

You had gasped, pretending to be scandalized. “Even bigger than you, Mr. Political Science?” 

He shook his head. “Imagine how cool I’d have to actually be to be studying poli-sci and still be considered cool.”

“Oh, are you considered cool?” you’d teased. “I hadn’t heard that.” (Which was a lie. When a girl in your dorm had found out who you were going on the date with, she’d almost keyed your car out of jealousy. Jeonghan was notoriously cool.)

He clapped a hand over his chest. “Please don’t wound me like this. My reputation is all I have.”

You looked him up and down in the way that tabloid articles had called your “man-eater move.” “Just your reputation, pretty boy?” you questioned lightly. “How disappointing.”

Jeonghan’s eyes got wide, but he recovered quickly. “I actually have one more thing. Way more important than my reputation.” He said it so seriously that you leaned forward in interest.

“What is it?” you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

He leaned forward to match you and whispered in your ear softly, “A fully completed Death Star Lego set.” 

And you had burst into laughter. People were generally easy for you to read, but Jeonghan took you by surprise every time. The rest of the meal was full of giggles and simmering tension. More than once you caught yourself staring at him and wondering what it’d be like to kiss the smirk right off his gorgeous face.

Which is how you found yourself in the custodian closet at that very restaurant twenty minutes later doing exactly that.

He had begun it -- suggesting a quick bathroom break that you somehow understood with your eyes, and on your way in he’d pulled you right into that tiny closet and pressed his mouth to yours like it might be the last thing he ever did. You were surprised at how strong this lithe boy was as his arms wrapped around your waist, his hands tightening into fists around the fabric of your skirt at your hips as he pressed you up against one of the shelves, knocking several bottles of cleaning wipes onto the floor. You had gasped and pulled away, just enough that you could look at him. “Careful, pretty boy,” you’d hummed breathlessly as you pulled him back for more, and he’d groaned.

“Call me that one more time, princess, I dare you,” he’d murmured against your lips.

“Is that a threat?” you’d whispered back, knotting your fingers into his long hair, perfectly content to let him do whatever it was he’d had in mind.

But then his cellphone, which had somehow slipped out of his pocket onto the floor, rang. Loudly. You both dived for it, worried that someone would hear, and you reached it first. After silencing it, you saw a familiar notification pop up on Jeonghan’s phone.

“No way!” you’d exclaimed quietly. “Are you in Exploration of Debate?” It was an online class you were taking as a general, where you posted anonymously on an online debate forum. The person with the highest number of won debates was the person with the highest grade, and to your chagrin, you were in second place after a devastating loss to “TwinkleToes17”. In fact, so ruthless was TwinkleToes that they’d gained a reputation outside the class as someone who was a pure psychopath, willing and ready to twist every word to their advantage. It seemed like everyone on campus had heard of this person.

Which is why you’d burst out of the closet two minutes after. “I can’t believe this,” you’d yelled, not caring that the other restaurant patrons and the wait staff were staring at you. You’d ripped your coat off your chair, grabbed your bag, and ran out into the wet, snowy evening, Jeonghan hot on your trail. 

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset. It’s a class,” he’d insisted, jogging to keep up with your dramatic pace, a laugh in his voice that only made your anger more overwhelming.

“Okay, firstly, even outside the class everyone knows you’re a monster,” you’d said. “And secondly, you manipulated me and twisted every word that I said to win that debate.” The third thing, which you hadn’t said, is that you couldn’t bear looking stupid in front of anyone, even if no one knew it was you. Mistaken, fine. Naive, sure. But never stupid.

And Jeonghan had made you look really stupid.

So you’d ignored his repeated calls after you, until he’d finally got frustrated and stopped following you. You’d walked the entire five kilometers home in the snow, arriving soaked and cold and grumpier than you’d possibly ever been. Worse was when you shared classes with Jeonghan for the next two semesters, unraveling your plan to never see him again.

When recounting this story to Hani, you left out the part about the short-lived makeout session in the closet and the undeniable chemistry between the two of you. You, instead, focused on the massive betrayal of learning about his online activities, Hani had scolded you for being too stubborn, prideful, and competitive, and that had been the end of it.

But the true rivalry had begun six months ago. You had had to go over to Seungcheol’s apartment to take care of Hani while he was away. Hani usually stayed at his place when she was sick, mainly because Seungcheol was the world’s biggest worrywart and called her constantly when he couldn’t be there while she wasn’t feeling her best.

So you had driven to his place, to hopefully ease some of her suffering (and Seungcheol’s), completely forgetting who he lived with. To your shock, it was Jeonghan who answered the door. “Ah, princess,” he’d exclaimed. “Welcome.”

The way he’d beamed when he saw you was infuriating. Peeking around his shoulder, you made venomous eye contact with Hani, who was sitting in a heap on the couch, her eyes red and watery with her illness. “How are you?” you asked, pointedly stepping around Jeonghan to go to her.

“I’m suffering,” she said. “But Jeonghan has been taking really good care of me.”

“Has he, now,” you’d said in a deadpan voice. 

“Well, now that you’re here, I need to run some errands,” Jeonghan had said, quickly excusing himself to go to the grocery store. You had tended to Hani while he left, not turning when he’d called a goodbye over his shoulder as he stepped out into the night.

Watching Hani was mostly uneventful. You brought her water when she finished her glass and watched TV together until Seungcheol came back. As you’d stood up to leave Hani and Seungcheol, who were snuggled together on the couch, Hani asked if you would grab the ibuprofen out of Jeonghan’s bathroom.

You had been surprised (and a little annoyed) at how clean it was inside, but he had left his toothbrush out on the counter, which immediately made you think of the fluorescent blue dye you had in your bag that you had needed for a recent experiment in your geology class. The dye, coincidentally, was colorless until it reacted to saliva, and stained everything around it a shocking shade of blue for several hours before fading completely. You had tried to be good, you really had -- you’d almost left the bathroom without doing anything to the toothbrush -- but there was a petty streak in you that desperately wanted Jeonghan to feel even one bit as foolish as he’d made you feel. Plus, when were you ever going to get an opportunity like this again?

This had been the beginning of the prank war between you and Jeonghan. The following week, you’d come home to a flock of confused pigeons trapped in your apartment. “Where did he even get a flock of pigeons?” you had muttered as you mopped your hardwood floors free of all the lingering gifts that the birds had left for you. 

“Beats me,” Hani said, spraying your tabletop with cleanser. “But I think this is a good learning experience for you. Jeonghan is really sweet, but he’s competitive, and he’ll do anything to win.”

“Oh, but I’m the exact same way,” you’d told her with a grim determination. 

And so, it had continued. One week you were swapping out Jeonghan’s bar of soap for one that was almost identical but had a particularly itchy ingredient, the next week Jeonghan rearranged the letters on your keyboard and made it nearly impossible for you to finish your assignments in time, the week following you stole his textbooks and replaced them with poorly written erotic novels. 

The pranks had only escalated the academic rivalry you’d had, especially as the two of you had striven to derail the other. When the exam results came out, you were elated to learn that despite Jeonghan’s efforts, you had come out of the semester at the top of the class — with Jeonghan just below you at number 2, by .02 points. Now, as you were about to fly to Hani’s birthday ball during spring break, your elation has been crushed. “Are you still going to come?” Hani asks, giving you her big sad eyes that you can’t say no to.

And because this is Hani, who knows you better than anyone and has always been there for you, you already know what you have to say. “Of course I’m going to come,” you reassure her. “It’s your birthday. I suppose I knew he’d probably end up deciding to come. But I’ll be darned if I let a man get between us.” You can’t suppress an eye roll. “Especially not that man.”

“You’re the best!” Hani exclaims. “Do you have a dress yet?”

“I have a few options,” you say. “I’ll take them with me so we can try things on together and you can help me choose.” You grin at her squeal of delight and try not to think about all the strategizing you’re going to have to do to avoid Jeonghan at the ball.

******

“You’ve got to be kidding,” you groan.

Jeonghan grins from the seat beside yours. “What? Did you want the window seat?” he asks, pointing out the small window of the airplane. It’s one of those huge jets with two stories, built for a seventeen-hour flight across the world, and yet, of all the seats you could be sitting in, of course Jeonghan is sitting in the next one over. 

You huff as you sit down. “Why didn’t you fly with Cheol?”

“He flew with Hani,” Jeonghan replies. “I didn’t want to third-wheel for that many hours in a row.”

That’s honestly pretty fair, but you can’t let him see you agree, so you roll your eyes. “Well, this is actually good. I needed to talk to you.”

“About?”

“The ball. We have to call a truce on our war.”

“Our war?” Jeonghan repeats with a raised eyebrow.

You clear your throat. “Our...rivalry.”

“I would call it a ‘friendly competition’,” he tells you.

“It’s really not that friendly,” you snap, and rifle in your bag for your headphones. “And it doesn’t matter what you call it, we just need to be well-behaved and civil during the ball because I will not have you or anyone else ruining Hani’s birthday party.”

“Well, I can’t promise to be well-behaved, but I promise I won’t ruin Hani’s party,” he comforts. 

You shake your head. “I guess that’s the best I could really hope for,” you grumble. Unable to locate your headphones, you toss your bag under your seat in frustration.

“What did that poor bag ever do to you?” Jeonghan asks.

“I can’t find my headphones,” you hiss. 

“I brought an extra pair.”

You stare at him. “You did not.”

“I truly, truly did,” he says. “Would you like to use them?”

“What will it cost me?”

“Nothing,” he says, grinning. “Let’s call it a mark of our truce.” He pulls them out of his bag and hands them to you, and you accept them, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Do they zap your ears when you put them in?” you ask nervously.

“No,” he says, taking one bud and putting it in his own ear. “Just regular old headphones.”

So you put one of them in, bracing yourself. Nothing happens, but the way Jeonghan is watching you is making you worried. “Forgive me if I’m a little wary after the pen incident.” (You were, of course, referring to a prank Jeonghan had pulled where he had replaced your pen with one that shocked you at random intervals.)

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “I’m not trying to make your life miserable, princess. Actually, right now, I’m trying to make your life easier.” He leans back against his seat’s headrest and closes his eyes. “It’s not going to kill you to trust me a little.”

You shoot him a dubious look before acquiescing, slipping the other bud into your ear. No shock. You decide he’s probably telling the truth, and you listen to an audiobook while you wait for the plane to take off.

Hours later, after you’ve watched the sunset fade to black outside Jeonghan’s window, and after watching two movies and dozing off during a third, you jolt awake to a sudden dip of the plane. Blinking rapidly, you try to make sense of your surroundings, and the first thing you register is a hand clasping your own. 

You look over, mortified, to see Jeonghan staring at you. But instead of the sneer you expected, his expression is serious and kind. “Are you okay?” he asks, squeezing your hand comfortingly.

“I’m fine,” you say, although your voice is shaking and you can’t bring yourself to let go of his hand even though it’s embarrassing.

“You’re scared of flying?” he asks you quietly.

“Not enough to not do it,” you reply. Maybe it’s the look in his eyes that makes you think that you’ve stepped outside the incessant teasing that has been the hallmark of your relationship with this man, but you find yourself saying, “I feel like I should be used to it already.” Immediately you begin to worry about how Jeonghan might use this weakness against you, but he just looks at you.

“Well, if it makes any difference,” he finally says, “you’re handling it pretty well.” He gives your hand a squeeze.

This is just too weird. The weirdest part is, it doesn’t feel weird at all -- not talking with him, not holding his hand, not even the way he looks at you. For a second, you remember how intently Jeonghan had listened to you speak at that dinner all those months ago. This seems much more like the person you thought he was before you’d found out he’d destroyed you in an anonymous online debate. And, terrifyingly, this was a person you could see yourself falling deeply into, with no hope of escape.

The plane lurches again, and you close your eyes and breathe deeply through your nose. A low chuckle from Jeonghan makes you shoot him an annoyed look.

He shrugs. “Sorry,” he says. “I don’t mean to laugh at you, I’m just surprised.”

“Why?” you ask through gritted teeth.

“Because,” he says, as though choosing his words very carefully. “You don’t strike me as the kind of person who’s scared of anything.”

His tone is -- dare you say it? -- respectful, almost awed, full of admiration.

“Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” you remind him, swallowing nervously.

He purses his lips. “Sad, but true.”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

He leans back in his seat again, closing his eyes. “Figure it out, princess,” he whispers, before falling asleep with your hand clenched around his.

******

The night before the ball, you’re on a video chat with your little sister when your dad enters the frame.

“How’s my girl doing?” the king asks, and you have to smile. Your dad is really an amazing leader, and an even better dad.

“I’m good,” you say. “Just three more days before I’m home!”

“We’re so excited to have you back,” your sister chimes in, and your dad nods enthusiastically. 

“Can I have a word with your sister?” your dad asks her, and she skips away with a quick “bye!”

“What’s up?” you ask.

“There’s been a little bit of tension on the mainland lately,” your dad confesses. “Nothing too concerning, but we want to nip it in the bud. I think it’s time for you to think about your future.”

You know when he says “future” he means “marriage”, and your heart sinks. As the eldest child, you will inherit the crown once your father retires. His hair and beard are grayer every time you see him, and you’ve known for awhile that he’s feeling a bit exhausted. “I am thinking about it,” you admit. “I’ve been going on dates.”

“Anything promising?” your dad asks hopefully.

You fiddle with your shirt hem, hesitating before you answer. The truth is, only one date you’ve been on since college is memorable at all. You try not to think about Jeonghan’s smirk and the way he’d made you laugh and holding his hand on basically the entire seventeen-hour flight over and most importantly his lips against yours in that dusty custodian’s closet before shaking your head. “Not really,” you confess. “Most politicians are really boring.”

Your dad scoffs. “Tell me about it.” He sighs. “Well, I’m not trying to force you into anything, but maybe the ball can be a good networking event for you. I heard that Prince Chan will be there.”

Prince Chan was internationally famous for being a real-life “Prince Charming” -- the perfect gentleman, always smiling, handsome as a fairytale prince. Your country was off his country’s southern coast, so his home was close to yours. “That might be a good political move.”

“And Prince Seungcheol will be there, and the general’s son, I forget his name...” Your dad trails off, but you know who he means, and you rush to put an end to those thoughts.

“Seungcheol is dating Hani,” you remind your dad quickly. “And Jeonghan -- the general’s son -- is...not an option either.”

“Okay,” your dad says, not catching the unspoken information in your tone. “Well, you’ll have boots on the ground, so just try, okay? And we can talk about it when you get back.”

You finish your talk and hang up, looking up at the vaulted ceiling of your guest bedroom in Hani’s parents’ palace. It was a curse to be the heir to the throne sometimes. The weight of your mantle was often so heavy it felt crushing. Your country was a small one, inhabited by gentle people. Military power, the nuances of war, conquest — none of these things were built into your culture. You weren’t sure what you’d do if things went south. 

Sighing, you head to the bathroom to start getting ready for bed. When you emerge from your shower and as you’re brushing your hair, the wind starts to pick up from outside. By the time you get into bed, a storm is raging outside. This, coupled with the thoughts swirling relentlessly around you head, has you thoroughly wound up and incapable of sleeping. 

So you wrap yourself in a dressing gown and head up the corridor toward the spiral staircase that leads to the library. One thing that always helps you sleep is a familiar book. You wander between the dim shelves, only lit by a few strategically placed lamps, as the thunder gets louder and louder. Finally, you’re able to locate a copy of Frances Hodgson Burnett’s Secret Garden, which you take from the shelf, cozying up in a large armchair to read by one of the lamps. 

A few pages in, you’re nearly startled to death by a voice from behind you. “What are you doing awake?”

You jump out of the chair and whirl around. “Jeonghan!” you whisper-shout. “For the love of all that is holy, you scared me.”

He gives a small smile. “Sorry, princess.” He’s also in his PJs, his shoulder-length hair still wet from a shower, and there are dark circles under his eyes that make him look more gaunt and melancholy than usual — a vampire rather than his standard fairy. It’s especially pronounced in the low lamplight. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he says simply. 

“Why not?”

“‘Cause you couldn’t sleep. I sensed you coming in here.”

You scoff. “What nonsense,” you say. 

“I’m serious. We’re soulmates.” Jeonghan’s grin has turned sly.

“Don’t be difficult,” you snap. “Was there a real reason you wanted to share, or — ?”

But then a bolt of lightning briefly illuminates the library in bright white light. The following clap of thunder is so loud it seems to shake the library. Jeonghan cringes and claps his hands to his ears before eyeing you warily.

You point a finger at him. “You’re scared of thunderstorms?” you guess.

He blushes. “Scared is a strong word.”

He cowers as the lightning flashes again, plugging his ears preemptively to avoid the massive clap of thunder. “You’re totally terrified,” you say when he finally takes his fingers out of his ears. “Well, this is just perfect.”

“That seems like a strong word, too,” he grumbles, coming to sit in the chair next to yours. “Perfect, how?”

“Now I know your weakness, and you know mine,” you explain, turning your attention back to your book. “We’re even.”

You couldn’t be more shocked when Jeonghan snakes a cold hand onto your wrist. When you gape at him, he looks at you with wide, innocent eyes. “I held your hand during the turbulence,” he reminds you. “So this is actually how you get even.”

This is hard to argue with, so you just keep reading with his fingers wrapped around your hand. “Do what you need to do, pretty boy,” you sigh. 

His sharp intake of air makes you look up from your book. “What?”

“You need to stop calling me that,” Jeonghan says quietly. 

“Or what?” you say, shutting your book with a snap.

“Or I’ll lose my mind,” he says in a strained tone. His jaw is clenched, his cheeks are flushed, and his palm on your wrist has become clammy with sweat. “I thought it would be easier to be close to you, but you insist on making my life harder, don’t you?”

This hits you like a punch in the gut. Glaring, you wrench your hand from Jeonghan’s grasp. “You don’t have to talk to me, Jeonghan. It’s perfectly alright for you to ignore me if it’s that hard for you to stand interacting with me.” Suddenly the library doesn’t feel big enough for you and Jeonghan to occupy the space at the same time -- as if all the air has been sucked out of the room. You jump from the armchair and turn on your heel, your robe blowing out behind you. 

But Jeonghan is following you again -- and it’s so reminiscent of that first night that you almost laugh. “I don’t understand how you’re not as tortured as I am,” he calls after you. “That’s part of what makes me so insane.”

“Who says I’m not? You’re absolutely agonizing to be around,” you shoot back over your shoulder.

“No, you don’t understand,” he says, and he catches you by the arm, whirling you around so that you face him. You try to shake free, but his grip is iron-strong. “It’s like you’re barely affected by my presence. You don’t feel this constant draw -- this constant need to --

“To what, Jeonghan?” you ask, taking a step forward. “Finish the sentence. To what?”

Your faces are inches apart, the tension between you so thick you could cut it with a knife, and Jeonghan flexes his jaw and swallows hard before his gaze flicks down to your lips. You’re breathing too hard, your pulse too quick, your face hot. He inches closer -- the tips of your noses nearly touching, and when he whispers, it’s in a husky tone that sends chills down your spine. “It’s impossible for me to understand how you don’t seem to think about what happened between us. For you, it’s like it never happened. For me...I think about it every day.”

He’s so close you can smell the peppermint toothpaste on his breath. So close that if you even slightly moved forward, your lips would meet.

And then lightning strikes again. Jeonghan lets go of your arm, takes a step back, nods to you like he would an acquaintance from class, and leaves you alone in the library, where you lean, trembling, against a bookshelf just as the more distant clap of thunder rings out. You have to place a hand over your chest to soothe the frantic beating of your heart. The rest of the night is sleepless -- you toss and turn, wondering what on earth has just happened between you and Jeonghan. 

******

“Is Hani ready?” Seungcheol asks, meeting you halfway up the stairs. 

“Almost,” you say, adjusting your pearl necklace so the clasp is in the back. “And she gave me explicit instructions that you are to stay at the bottom of the stairs. She wants that movie moment. And you are going to give it to her, because it’s her birthday.”

Seungcheol follows you back down the stairs. “So, Jeonghan’s been weird today,” he says, a question in his tone.

“He’s always weird,” you say shortly.

“Weirder than usual. You look great, by the way,” he tells you, gesturing at the glittering white dress you’re wearing. It hugs your frame with a corseted top, cascading like sea foam down your hips and ending in a train. Hani had picked it out, saying that it matched your small pearl-encrusted crown the best, but you also suspected that she knew it was your most devastating look.

“Thanks,” you say to Seungcheol. “Wait until you see Hani.”

He’s so down bad he even smiles just at the sound of her name. “I can’t wait.” 

“And about Jeonghan,” you continue. “Did he tell you -- anything?”

Seungcheol gives you a stern look. “Should he have? Did anything happen last night?”

“There was a thunderstorm,” you say quickly.

“Ah,” Seungcheol says, his gaze a little too understanding. “Jeonghan is scared of thunderstorms.”

You nod, refusing to answer the question he isn’t asking. Luckily, you’re saved by the arrival of Hani at the top of the stairs, looking absolutely stunning in the prettiest blue dress. Seungcheol’s whole face transforms into a picture of joy. “Wow,” he breathes.

You can see her beaming from here. You decide to let them have their moment by themselves, and instead push through the magnificent double doors into the ballroom. As your eyes scan the crowd, you try to believe that you’re not looking for Jeonghan, but there has been a knot in your chest since last night, and you somehow sense he is the only person who can do anything about it. Before landing on Jeonghan, though, your eyes land on Prince Chan. You remember your dad’s request and plaster on your most winning smile as you approach him. 

“Hello, Prince Chan,” you say, curtsying low to him. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

He’s just as handsome as everyone has said, and he’s smiling just as kindly as you’d expect. “It’s a beautiful party,” he says. “The hostess is your best friend, right?”

“She is,” you confirm. “Princess Hani is wonderful. Have you ever met her?”

“Only a handful of times. We were kids,” he explains. “But everyone speaks highly of her.”

You nod. “So, how are things on the mainland?” you ask, changing the subject.

You pass a few pleasant minutes discussing his interests, the state of his country’s affairs, and you. After awhile, a very territorial woman comes to stand between you and Prince Chan, interrupting your conversation. He shoots you an apologetic look over her shoulder, and you wave him off with a small smile and a bow, backing away. 

“Already causing problems, I see,” says a familiar voice. 

You turn to see him -- Jeonghan, in his decorated military uniform, looking far more handsome and ethereal than he had any right to. You stick up your chin. “Well, it wasn’t my intention,” you say. “He was standing alone.”

“What a kind soul you are,” Jeonghan says drily as Hani makes her grand entrance.

You pause in your bickering to applaud her, beaming and embracing her as she comes to greet you. “Do you feel beautiful?” you ask her.

“Yes, I do,” she tells you. “Thank you for always being here.”

After she walks away to greet her other guests, you turn back to Jeonghan. “So, do you have anything else to say to me? Or do you have more pigeons to sedate and put in my bedroom?”

He grins. “As tempting as that is, I have plenty more to say to you.”

Just then, the music starts, and before Jeonghan can offer you his arm to escort you onto the floor, you are turning to the nearest passing gentleman and asking him to dance. Jeonghan follows suit, escorting a pretty redhead in a yellow dress into the space right beside you. As you begin the steps of the dance, you make polite conversation with your partner, whose name you have already forgotten. Jeonghan seems to be vaguely paying attention to his own partner as she rambles on good-naturedly, but his eyes never leave you. His scorching looks from across the dance column have heat rising in your cheeks and the back of your neck, and a funny swooping feeling in your stomach, almost like you’ve done a massive drop on a roller coaster. 

At the end of the dance, you politely bow to your partner and are just about to scurry away when Jeonghan catches your hand. “One dance,” he begs. “Please.”

And his eyes are searing with some barely-concealed passion, his skin unnecessarily flushed and his jaw set in a hard line, and you open your mouth — to refuse him, you remind yourself — but nothing comes out, leaving Jeonghan free to pull you back into the dance floor and into his arms for the waltz. 

You have done a simple waltz a thousand times — maybe hundreds of thousands at this point. Your feet are familiar with the steps and the turns. It’s simple enough to do. But waltzing with Jeonghan is like trying to speak a language you’ve never heard before. Pressed against his body, his hand burning into the small of your back through your dress, you find yourself unable to meet his eyes as he leads you through the steps. Something about him holding you like this is reminding you forcefully of that distant janitor’s closet, and this is making it impossible for you to look at him for fear of what it might do to you. So, with your heart pounding in your ears, you fixate on the top button of Jeonghan’s uniform and let him whirl you around, until it feels like everything else has faded away but the music and his arms around you. You can feel the weight of his gaze, but you don’t look up until the very last strains of the song are fading away.

And as you do, Jeonghan’s angelic face breaks into a smile that could make the devil repent. He’s so unbearably beautiful that you actually feel your breath hiss out of you, stolen by his smile. You realize that it doesn’t matter how much you pranked him or ignored him or rejected him or lied to yourself — there was absolutely nothing that could have kept you from falling in love with him.

Just at this moment of revelation, someone taps Jeonghan’s shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt,” Prince Chan says. 

“It’s no trouble,” Jeonghan says. He’s still partially holding you in his arms, and you are still struggling to remember how to breathe, but Prince Chan seems not to notice or care. 

“Would you mind if I had the next dance?” he asks, looking between the two of you.

You find it impossible to speak, so you just nod in assent. Jeonghan gives your hand to Chan, looking mildly crestfallen, and you try to get your crap together before the music starts.

You successfully collect yourself enough to look Prince Chan in the face. He’s smiling at you, but his eyes are a little too understanding. “Jeonghan’s great, huh?” he asks.

You try to laugh, but it comes out choked and awkward. “He’s a bit too charming for his own good,” is all you’re willing to admit. 

Chan nods in agreement. “He’s interesting. Most people like to show their very best selves to others, and you find out the bad stuff the more you get to know them. But Jeonghan kind of does the opposite.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he’ll be crafty and cunning up front, but he’s actually very kind. And you only get to see that if you get close to him.”

“How do you know?” you ask.

Chan glances over at Jeonghan. “I actually stayed with his family for a month while my mother was sick,” he explains. “Jeonghan had gone through something similar, and he was a big help to me. Of course he still drove me crazy sometimes,” he adds with a laugh, “but he’s solid gold all the way through. You just have to crack him open a bit to see it.”

You’re silent, chewing on this information, when all of a sudden, someone tosses the contents of their wine glass at you, coating your gown in a deep red stain. You gasp and look over to see Jeonghan with his current dance partner -- who is holding her empty wine glass and grinning wickedly at you. You recognize her as the one who interrupted your earlier conversation with Chan. “Oops,” she says.

Your eyes bounce between Jeonghan and the girl. “I need to go change,” you say to Chan. “Please excuse me.”

Chan’s glaring at the girl, and he nods to acknowledge he heard you. You immediately turn away from Jeonghan’s wide-eyed stare, hugging your arms to your chest and heading straight for Hani and Seungcheol. “Some psycho threw her wine on me,” you whisper to her. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” she asks with concern. 

You muster a weak smile. “No, you stay and enjoy your party.”

“I’m going to go escort the psycho out of here,” Seungcheol says, his eyes focused behind you on where you’ve left Chan and the girl and Jeonghan. You look over your shoulder to see Jeonghan leaning in close to the girl and whispering something in her ear, and this is the final straw. A part of you wonders if he planned it himself -- even after you asked him not to ruin things. So you turn on your heel and flee from the ballroom, running up the stairs and heading toward the library. 

The tears start the minute you cross the threshold. You hate crying, and hate being a cliche damsel in distress, but the lack of sleep, the confusion about your own feelings, and the blatant bullying you’ve experienced have overwhelmed you, and it’s hard to stop yourself from collapsing into full-blown sobs. You only have a few seconds to cry by yourself between the bookshelves, however, before you hear someone’s footsteps sprinting into the library.

“Princess?”

Oh, no.

You try not to make any noise so that he won’t find you, but Jeonghan still rounds the corner and finds you. You immediately turn your back to him, wiping your eyes as you face the bookshelf. You can hear him approaching you slowly. “Princess?” he repeats.

You slowly turn over your shoulder to face him, looking him in the eye. You know you probably look ridiculous, but you still have to ask. “Was that your idea of a prank?” you say in a hard voice.

“Not at all,” he replies, his voice equally sharp. “Seungcheol and I threw her out ourselves.”

“You did?” you squeak.

He gives you a sad smile. “Of course. She’s never going to be within fifty miles of you ever again if I can help it.”

You nod, looking at your feet. “Well, that’s good. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Jeonghan hesitates, then takes another step forward. “I need to talk to you,” he says.

You avoid his gaze and back up a little, right into the bookshelf. “I don’t see what we have left to talk about,” you hedge.

“Are we back to the bickering?” he asks, sounding frustrated. He steps forward again, nearly toe-to-toe with you, and brings a hand up to your chin, tugging on it gently. “Need you to look at me, princess.”

You lift your eyes to him and are once again overwhelmed by his closeness. You can’t help the deep breath you take at the sight of him. “Why do you keep pretending you hate me?” Jeonghan asks you quietly. 

“What do you mean?” you reply.

“I know you don’t really hate me,” he explains. “I’ve known it for months. But I just don’t know why you can’t admit it to yourself. I wish you’d just let it go.” When you don’t reply, he sighs. “I’ve never met anyone as stubborn as you. You truly have no equal.”

Your emotions are so overwhelming and close to the surface that this light barb stings a lot more than Jeonghan probably intended. And this sends you over the edge. You bat his hand away and whisper-yell, “Well, you’re selfish, and conceited, and self-important, and conniving, and I don’t know why I --”

But you stop yourself before you give yourself away. Jeonghan impulsively brings his hands to both sides of your face, trapping you in. “Finish the sentence,” he demands. “You don’t know why you...what?”

But the answer won’t come, stuck between your heart and your voicebox, your stubborn mind trying fruitlessly to bar Jeonghan from knowing the truth. But, as is always the case in all the love stories you’ve ever read, the heart is too strong for the mind, and for a moment, it overcomes all rational thought and takes control over your hands. You grab Jeonghan by the collar and pull his lips to yours. 

No amount of shock could keep Jeonghan from responding to your kiss. Ever quick on his feet, he brings a hand to the back of your neck so that he can move you in just the way he wants to, and you, for the first time in forever, let go of your need to sort through all your feelings and make them make sense, and give in to your heart entirely. You don't have to think with Jeonghan -- he takes charge in a way that makes your knees feel weak, and you cling to him desperately to avoid toppling over. Jeonghan kisses with even more passion than he had in that closet, with enough fire that you think you both might combust. His lips are searing and insistent, and you melt into his arms. Instinctively, you tangle your fingers in his hair, and he gives a throaty chuckle. “Careful, princess,” he whispers between kisses, and you hum against his lips in bliss. 

Eventually, his kisses turn soft and sweet, slowing down to a pace where you can both catch your breath. And then he pulls away. The sight of him with his hair ruffled from your hands and his cheeks flushed and his eyes bright makes you giggle, and he beams at you, his gaze flicking to your lips again. “Wait,” you say before he can kiss you again. “I like you.”

“Duh,” he says with a laugh in his voice.

You swat his arm. “I mean it. I don’t understand how, or why, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the night we met. And compared to you, everyone seems so...dull.” He’s smirking now, and you swat at him again. “Stop it! I’m trying to be sincere.”

“I can’t help it,” he complains, and he’s looking at you so fondly that it’s dangerous. “You’re so cute. And I love to listen to you speak, but when you speak you move your mouth, and suddenly that’s just become so incredibly distracting for me.”

“My lips are distracting?” you repeat, wrinkling your nose in disgust at how corny it is.

“Well, they always were,” Jeonghan admits. “But right now...” He leans in, gives you a peck, and then runs a hand through his disheveled hair and groans. “Oh, it’s nearly too much.”

You giggle again. “You’re truly obsessed with me, aren’t you?”

“Embarrassingly so,” he says proudly. “Why else do you think I bribed the person who would’ve sat next to you on the plane to take my seat on Seungcheol and Hani’s flight?”

“You switched flights to travel with me?” Yesterday, this would’ve been annoying to learn -- but now, it’s a little endearing.

He nods. “And I switched classes so that I could take them with you. I’m still going to do that until we graduate, mind you, so if you could please avoid the eight o’clock classes, I would appreciate that so much.”

You tsk in fond exasperation at him. “And all of this time, you didn’t think to tell me that you’re --”

“Head over heels for you? Well, I sort of felt like it probably wouldn’t have gone over well. So I bided my time. And it was worth the wait,” he says, clasping one of your hands to his chest. “There’s absolutely no one like you, princess. You’re the best person I’ve ever met.”

You shake your head, although on the inside you feel like angels are singing. “What an end to our war,” you say, snaking your arms around Jeonghan’s shoulders.

“War is such a strong word,” Jeonghan complains. “It was barely a scuffle.”

“You filled my room with pigeons.”

“And that was low-hanging fruit for me.”

“You’re shameless.”

“Entirely,” he agrees. “Which is why I have no plans to return to that ball anytime soon.” He gives you a mischievous smile and once again looks at your lips.

“I can’t miss my best friend’s entire birthday party,” you remind him, playing with a lock of his hair shyly.

“Hmm,” he says thoughtfully. “That is a predicament. Might I suggest a compromise?”

“Indubitably,” you say, playing along with his posh tone.

He scoffs. “We go back in an hour. We stay to watch her open her gifts. And then we meet back here.”

“To do what?” you ask him, giving him your own dangerous grin.

“What an excellent question, princess,” he says, leaning in and kissing you deeply and slowly before pulling away just slightly and brushing a stray hair from your face. “I guess we’ll have to play it by ear,” he finally tells you in a low voice. “How does that sound?”

“It sounds perfect,” you sigh, and then you smirk at him. “Pretty boy,” you add as an afterthought.

His eyes darken. “I’m going to make you regret that,” he threatens. And as he kisses you into oblivion once again, you seriously doubt it.

[odyssean-flower]

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 14 - The Art of Pretending

Masterpost

Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: You and Neuvillette prepare for the meeting with F

Note: If you want to be on the taglist for this fic, please make a reply to this post, send a message or send a private ask

Have a pic of Neuvillette standing on ichor

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By the next day, your ankle was mostly healed, although it still felt a little tender when you placed too much pressure on it. You spent most of the day sitting at home, brooding over the impending meeting.

One big issue kept popping up over and over again: the very likely possibility that Furina would see your marriage for the sham it was.

Neuvillette had assured you that it would be quite difficult for her to force a divorce, but you doubted that she would be pleased either way. Suppose she decides to reveal our marriage to the whole world…I don’t think I can handle that.

You were not one to take interest in celebrity gossip, but whenever a scandal occurred, even you found it difficult to avoid the bold headlines on the front pages and the endless discussions around you. You could only imagine how much worse it would get when the news came out that the aloof Chief Justice was in a secret marriage.

You tried not to think of such things, but these pessimistic thoughts kept buzzing around your head like annoying mosquitoes. You found yourself slowly counting down the hours until Neuvillette returned. You needed his calming presence right about now.

And, there was another reason why you were eagerly waiting for him...

“So, how do I look?”

You stood before Neuvillette in the new outfit you were going to wear for tomorrow’s meeting. He was once again sitting in your room, his legs crossed and his hands clasped in his lap. He had seemed oddly enthusiastic when you asked him to come to your room so you could model the outfit for him, but there was no trace of that excitement now as he surveyed you from top to bottom.

When he didn’t say anything after a few moments, you began to get nervous. It occurred to you just then that you ought to have done a twirl or something, but your legs seemed to be transfixed in place by his scrutinizing gaze. You could almost feel his gaze physically, like a gentle breeze, as it traveled from the delicate lace at your collar to the white sash that encircled your waist to the flared lavender skirt that reached all the way to your knees. The dress had caught your eye as soon as you entered the shop, and the others immediately agreed that it looked perfect on you (though they also seemed under the impression that you had chosen it because the color was the same shade as Neuvillette’s eyes, which had only occurred to you as a fleeting thought, no more than that). It was the kind of dress you’d wear to a tea party—not too formal, but nothing overly casual either.

Oh…does he not like it? You inspected his expression, but detected no trace of dislike there. At least, you didn’t think there was. You had lived with Neuvillette for a few months now and thought you were becoming quite adept at reading his face, but it was still difficult at times. Maybe I should change into something else…no, wait. Why does it matter if he likes it or not? It’s a meeting, not a date or anything like that. And even if it was a date, why should I care if he doesn’t like my dress? Gah…

Oblivious to your internal turmoil and your sweaty palms, Neuvillette crossed his legs again and tilted his head to the side. His gaze was now resting on your face. You felt heat creep up your neck and willed it to stay out of your cheeks.

“My apologies for not saying anything right away. I was simply caught off guard by how different you look. Not in a bad way, I assure you. Far from it.” he added the last part quickly, and then smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. It lit up his whole face and made him look different somehow. More approachable…more human. It sent a nervous flutter through your stomach. But it was nothing compared to what his next words did to you. “You look like a Pluie Lotus come to life.”

Now you definitely felt the heat in your face, and you awkwardly looked down to hide it. Your hair hid him from view, but you could have sworn you heard a sharp exhale from him, sounding almost like a laugh. You quickly looked up, ready to glare at him, but his face was as impassive as ever, except for the mirthful light dancing in his eyes. Hmph. He’s quick.

“…Pluie Lotuses, huh. They’re very pretty flowers,” you said.

“Indeed they are. As are you.”

You stared at him, and he looked back at you with a steady gaze. Your fingers twitched a little.

“Thank you. That’s very kind of you,” you said at last, because you weren’t sure what to say or do. It was rare for you to get compliments on your appearance. You decided to stare at the wall behind Neuvillette.

“Why thank me? It is the truth. Besides, I am only reciprocating your words to me back on our date.”

“Oh…that.” Thinking back on it now, you could only cringe at your behavior from that time. Something must have been in the air on that boat ride. “I suppose we’re even, then.”

Neuvillette simply made a “Hmm” sound and sipped from his cup, his eyes lingering on you over the rim of his cup. Do I really look that different? You wondered.

You sat down on the chair facing Neuvillette, ready to get down to business. “Neuvillette, we should think of what to say to Lady Furina tomorrow. Has she given you any hints as to what she will ask us?”

Perhaps you should have prepared a notebook or flashcards.

“No, she has not.”

“What about for your past relationships, then? What did she ask before?”

Neuvillette blinked at you in confusion. “What do you mean, Madame?”

“Haven’t you ever brought your past lovers to meet her?”

As Neuvillette continued to stare at you as though you had just spoken an incomprehensible language, you began to wonder if you had overstepped your bounds. You probably had. But just as you opened your mouth to tell him to forget about it, he spoke.

“I have not. You’re the first person I’ve done this with,” he said flatly.

Now it was your turn to blink in surprise. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Huh…” you were taken aback, but thinking about it a bit more, why would Neuvillette bring his past paramours to meet the Archon? It wasn’t as though he needed her permission to date anyone, and a lover was on a different level than a spouse. “I see,” you nodded to yourself, convinced and completely oblivious to the frown tugging at the corners of Neuvillette’s lips.

“Are you worried about tomorrow? There is no need to be. As I’ve said before, there is very little Furina can do to interfere with our marriage, and besides,” he paused here and glanced down at your hands, which you only realized just then were tightly clenched into fists. He reached out and covered them with his own hands, his fingers gently prying yours loose. “You will not be alone. I will be with you. Furina may seem intimidating in front of a large crowd, but you’ll find that she is quite different in more intimate settings.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re used to dealing with her,” you muttered, but you did feel your heart lighten a little bit by the steady weight of Neuvillette’s hands. It was difficult to feel too worried when you were with him. All the troubles in the world seemed to dissipate in his presence. “But still…”

“What is it, Madame? Tell me your worries.”

“It’s just…wouldn’t Lady Furina take issue with the fact that you got married so quickly and secretly, and to someone like me who’s barely known in society? You aren’t exactly known for making hasty decisions like that. She might have questions about that.”

It was possible that Furina didn’t know you and Neuvillette had only known each other for a month before marrying, but it was better to not assume.

“I am under the impression that it is not unusual for people to marry after a short period of courting. That is what I observed, at least. And you may not know this, Madame, but secret marriages are not as uncommon as you might think, particularly among the nobility.”

“Mm, I suppose you do have a point…” Maybe you were overthinking this. A marriage was a marriage, no matter how suddenly occurred. Neuvillette was asked to find a spouse, which he had properly accomplished. Furina might have her complaints about the way it happened, but she couldn’t deny the legitimacy of the marriage.

“It is not something for you to worry about. Leave all the explanations to me. After all, it was I who proposed to you. I was the one who dragged you into this situation in the first place.” Neuvillette’s hands did not leave yours, and you made no move to pull your hands away. “I do not believe it would be a long meeting, so we should have ample time for shopping afterward.”

“Mm…I hope you’re right,” you fidgeted a little in your chair. Everything Neuvillette said was logical and correct. You couldn’t find any holes in his argument. But then there was the elephant in the room…

“There is something else bothering you.” Neuvillette’s tone wasn’t a questioning one. “Tell me.”

“Would we not have to…pretend to be in love in front of Lady Furina?”

Neuvillette stared at you for a long moment. Oh, so it hasn’t occurred to him at all.

“Could you…elaborate on that?” he said at last.

“Well…” you inwardly cursed yourself for bringing it up. “Lady Furina knows that we’re married, so she probably expects us to have some degree of romantic feelings for each other. And also, it is generally believed that people who have a quick wedding in secret have, um, an excess of such feelings, so I was thinking that it would be more convincing if we displayed affection for each other.”

“I do not understand why we must convince anyone of our marriage. It was officially registered, witnessed, and known to everyone who needed to know. In my opinion, that is enough, is it not?”

“On paper, yes, but if we act too distant, it would raise suspicion and lead to more prying into our lives. Maybe…maybe she would even assume something scandalous occurred.”

You realized how ridiculous the idea was as soon as it left your lips. Neuvillette being forced to marry someone because he got them pregnant. It had about as much likelihood of happening as all the water draining out of Fontaine.

Neuvillette blinked rapidly at your words. He seemed to understand what you were implying. He took a sip of water, looked at you, then raised his cup to his lips again. No doubt he was insulted by the mere suggestion of it. You had to apologize. But he spoke before you could.

“Affection… yes, I haven’t considered that. Perhaps that is why she…” he murmured, almost to himself, then shook his head as though clearing whatever thoughts occupied it. He then raised his gaze to you. “How shall we display it, then?”

“You’re asking me?” you were stunned. Shouldn’t Neuvillette, with his doubtless abundant experience in such things, know? Or maybe he found it too dishonest to feign affection for a woman he had no feelings for. “I’m not sure either. You know I’m woefully inexperienced when it comes to romance.”

“So am I.” Neuvillette said. “Perhaps we could follow the examples of others.”

You resisted the urge to gape at him. Does that mean his relationships were all… No, wait, I shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Maybe he just means that he acts very reserved with his partners. Yes, that must be it.

“That’s a good idea,” you quickly said, then racked your brain for examples. Your parents came up first in your mind, but you quickly dismissed them. Theirs was an arranged marriage, and even as a child you noticed the difference between how they acted with each other and how your friends’ parents acted. At the very least, they never cheated on each other and got along quite well. I don’t think I should emulate them in this case, though.

You then thought of your friend Anne, who recently got married and gave birth. Her husband was a port official who worked at Lumidouce Harbor, so she moved there about a year ago, but still exchanged letters with you regularly. You never met her husband, but he seemed to be a kind, loving man judging from Anne’s letters. I’ve never seen their interactions, so copying them is also out of the question.

You scoured your mind for all the couples you’ve seen in your life. The elderly couples in your hometown, the young lovers walking hand-in-hand on the city streets, even the fictional romances you read in novels—you analyzed them all. There were a few things they had in common: physical contact, fond smiles, petnames.

You told all of this to Neuvillette, who stroked his chin in thought. Then, he stood up. “Madame, let me try something,” he held out his hand to you, and you took it. He drew you out of your chair and, without warning, wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his chest. You were frozen, unsure of what to do. His other hand moved to your chin, tilting it up. You realized then that you were holding your breath and standing on your tiptoes, your face so close to his that you could see every detail in his face in sharp focus. His slitted violet eyes, fringed by long lashes; his high cheekbones; the white locks brushing against his cheeks; his full mouth, slightly parted—

You hastily put a stop to those thoughts. I have to calm down and focus! Focus on…um…what do I need to focus on again? You were sure that Neuvillette could feel your heart pounding under your clothes. He was staring at you so intently. You couldn’t look away even if you wanted to, for he still had your chin between his fingers.

“My precious little dove,” he whispered, lowering his face to yours. A silver lock brushed against your cheek, and the crisp smell of his cologne assailed your nostrils. As if by instinct, your arms rose to encircle his body. “Won’t you seek solace in my arms?”

If only you had the calmness of mind or wit to respond with something equally passionate! Unfortunately, the first thing that came out of your mouth was, “Didn’t that line come from The Lochknight’s Passion?”

The Lochknight’s Passion was a historical romance novel popular for its compelling combination of the flowery writing characteristic of historical novels and almost embarrassingly direct love scenes. What you didn’t mention was that the line in question was said by the titular Lochknight right before he “fell into the throes of passion” with his lady love, to put it politely. Neuvillette’s tastes in literature are quite unexpected… the romance novels in his study came to mind.

You saw a pale flush bloom across his cheeks and his jaw tightening as he pursed his lips. He let go of you and stepped back. Shades of embarrassment and shock flickered in his eyes. “Y-Yes. I mean, indeed, that is where the line came from.” There was a stutter in his words, which was quite rare.

Oh no, I ruined the moment and embarrassed him! You had to fix this somehow.

You cleared your throat and closed the space between you two, then stepped on your tiptoes and twined your arms around his neck, then cupped his cheek in your hand. You heard his breath catch his throat. “Take me in your embrace, my shining knight,” you recited the words of the Lochknight’s lady in that same scene. “And let our enflamed souls mingle as one!”

The words fell with a thud in your silent room, which suddenly felt too small and stifling.

A polite “ahem” came from the direction of the door. The two of you jumped away from each other as though you were on fire.

“Pardon me, Monsieur and Madame, but I’ve brought snacks,” Marie was standing at the door with a bowl of blueberries. Her eyebrows were raised, and the corners of her lips were twitching. “But if I’m interrupting something, I can come back later.”

You fervently wished a hole opened up beneath you right then and there. You could hear fabric rustling behind you and imagined that Neuvillette felt similarly mortified.

“We were practicing displaying affection, Marie. I apologize if we caused any misunderstandings,” he explained in a composed tone. You were impressed; you couldn’t even manage so much as a squeak right now. He’s the Chief Justice for a reason. I should learn from him.

“Practicing affection?” Marie’s eyebrows remained raised, so Neuvillette explained the situation. As he spoke, rationality made its belated return to your mind. What were the two of you thinking? Showing affection didn’t mean embracing passionately in front of Furina!

You were quite proud of yourself for not burying your head in a pillow and screaming your lungs out.

“Ah, I understand the problem you’re dealing with now,” Marie nodded after Neuvillette finished his explanation. To her credit, she managed to keep a straight face despite being confronted with the absurdity of her employers. “Then, may I give my opinion as a woman who has been married for four decades?”

Gah, we should have done that from the start!

Neuvillette nodded, and Marie went on ahead. “Firstly, Monsieur and Madame, I’m unsure as to why you feel the need to pretend affection in the first place. To my eyes, you two look quite close.”

“Yes, but is it a ‘married couple’ kind of ‘close’?” you said.

“I’ve known plenty of couples, and I’d say the two of you show more fondness and respect for each other than most of them, even the ones who’ve been married for decades. You simply need to act as you always do.”

“But it’s more like the fondness between friends,” you insisted. “Would a stranger think we’re married if they saw us together?”

“Hmm…” Marie tilted her head in thought. “Well, Madame, if you’re so worried, then how about wearing matching accessories with Monsieur? It lends an impression of closeness, I’d say.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” you looked at Neuvillette. “How about it?”

“A visual indicator… yes, it does seem like a good idea,” he nodded. Then, his face suddenly brightened. “I have something in my mind. Come with me, Madame, to my room. And thank you, Marie, for your good suggestion.”

“Yes, thank you, Marie,” you echoed. “Also, sorry again for asking something so odd. And, um, about what you just saw...”

“No need to worry, Madame, you will hear no mention of tonight from me. And don’t apologize for asking questions. There’s a first time for everything.” Marie said, her eyes twinkling.

As you followed Neuvillette to the double doors at the other wing of the house, you were overcome with embarrassment all over again, so you decided to concentrate your eyes on the swaying bow at the end of his white locks. My goodness, how does he maintain all that hair? There’s so much of it…

Neuvillette opened the wooden doors of his room and gestured for you to enter. You had never been in his room before and felt sparks of nervous anticipation in your stomach. Was this what adventurers felt when they were about to step foot into an undiscovered ruin?

His bedroom wasn’t as exciting as all that. It was twice as large as your room. A large canopied bed dominated the room (you tried not to stare at it), and thick blue curtains hung over the windows. A white stone fireplace, unlit, occupied another wall, with a stuffed armchair in front of it. Even with the lights turned on, it was rather dim in the room.

There were two other doors, and you supposed the one Neuvillette led you towards was his dressing room. Your feet sank into the soft carpet as you followed him.

The dressing room was spacious, with floor-length mirrors and a cushioned bench in the middle of the room. Everywhere you looked, you were met with blue, black, and white. You could almost imagine that you were standing at the bottom of the sea. Neuvillette is nothing if not a stickler to a theme, you thought in amusement.

Neuvillette pulled out a drawer. It contained brooches of all shapes and sizes nestled within white silk. They glittered like sea glass on a white sandy beach.

“Madame, please pick one for me,” he said. It wasn���t until that moment that you realized he hadn’t said anything since you left your room. He gestured towards the drawer and proceeded to sit on the bench. Though you could still feel his gaze on your back.

You, for your part, busied yourself with the brooches. They came in all shapes and sizes, all colors and makes. Even you, who had long outgrown your fascination with shiny gems, found yourself enthralled by each brooch you came across. These are all so beautiful! Why doesn’t Neuvillette wear them more often?

At last, your eye alighted on a purple gem tucked all the way in the back of the drawer. You took it out and held it up to the light. It was oval-shaped and appeared more of a pale lilac in the light than deep purple. It was the exact color of Neuvillette’s eyes.

I wonder if this was a gift from a lover? It didn’t seem like the kind of thing you would buy for yourself.

You turned to Neuvillette and held it out to him. “I think this one will do. It matches your eyes and my dress.”

He took the brooch from you and examined it. “It does. I hardly remembered that I had this brooch in the first place,” he turned a weak smile towards you. “You have a good eye, Madame.”

“Try it on,” you urged, and he complied, inspecting himself in the mirror. You stood beside him and looked as well. Marie had a point about the matching. Somehow, you and Neuvillette now looked like you had something to do with each other, rather than just a man and woman standing together.

“I’ll wear a black ribbon like yours in my hair tomorrow as well,” you whispered without knowing why. It wasn’t as though wearing more matching accessories would make the two of you look more like a couple.

“I think you would look lovely in anything you choose,” he murmured back, his eyes fixed on the mirror. You had the feeling that he was staring at your reflection instead of himself.

You turned to look at him. His profile was sharp and defined, his right eye obscured by his bangs so you couldn’t glean his expression. But even so, you could tell…

“Neuvillette, is something wrong? Is it about what happened earlier? There’s no shame in reading racy romance novels, you know. I think shaming someone for reading is an awful thing to do. Someone who only reads serious literature isn’t better than someone who only reads Inazuman light novels in any way. In fact, people should be encouraged to read a wide variety—”

“Madame, I appreciate the sentiment, but that is not what is preoccupying my mind right now,” Neuvillette interrupted. Melancholy continued to emanate from him in waves.

“Oh. Then, what is it?” you moved to sit on the bench and patted the seat next to you. He sat down and glanced at you. “Please tell me.”

“I do not wish to burden you with even more stress.”

“Haven’t we been over this already? We promised to stop keeping our worries from each other, particularly when it involves one of us, remember?”

“We have, but…” Neuvillette hesitated. “I am not sure how to verbalize these feelings in my heart.”

“I see.” You nodded. Your mind raced as you thought of a way to help him open up. An idea came to mind. It was a method used with the students back in your hometown when they had trouble expressing their feelings. Words came out much easier when your hands were occupied with an activity. You could adapt it to this situation. “Neuvillette, I’m going to go get my hairbrush. I’ll be right back.”

“Your hairbrush?” he repeated, confused, as you ran to your room to fetch the brush. The bowl of blueberries was there, and you took it along with you on a whim.

“Neuvillette, brush my hair for me,” you said when you returned to the dressing room and handed him your hairbrush. “Take your time to put together what you want to say.”

“Are…are you sure?” he looked at your hair brush dubiously.

“I am. I brush my hair right before I go to bed every night anyways, so you’re doing me a favor either way.”

“…If you insist, Madame. I shall do my best.” He brought the bristles of the brush to the top of your scalp and gently ran them down the strands of your hair. You popped a few blueberries in your mouth as he did so. After a while, the sensation of the brush carefully being worked through your hair became hypnotic, almost lulling you to sleep. You felt your eyelids drooping down when Neuvillette finally spoke.

“I want to apologize to you first, Madame. What happened in your room should never have occurred in the first place. It was untoward. I do not know what came over me when I did so.”

“We were both trying to find a way to show affection. I did the same to you as well.” You have already resolved to completely bury that memory and never let it see the light of day ever again.

“But it was only in response to my actions.” A pause. “I felt your heart beating rapidly, and you tensed up under my arms. You were scared of me in that moment.”

“I was certainly taken by surprise…” you recalled your emotions back then. “But, um, I didn’t, ah, dislike it.” You stuffed a handful of blueberries into your mouth.

You felt the brushing pause for a second before it restarted with renewed vigor. “…I see.” Neuvillette’s tone was unreadable. “I’m very glad to hear that, although I wouldn’t like to catch you by surprise. I will inform you beforehand and ask for your permission when I do such things from now on.”

“Oh? Does that mean you’re going to take me into your arms again in the future?”

“I try not to make promises that I am unsure I’ll be able to keep.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that, so you stuffed another handful of blueberries into your mouth, focusing on their juicy sweetness.

“There is another thing I want to apologize for.” Neuvillette said after another minute of silence. “I am ashamed that even though I was the one who involved you into this situation in the first place, I find myself completely clueless as to what to do. I should be the one guiding you, and yet…our positions always seem to be reversed. It seems that I am always following your lead.”

“Neuvillette, remember what I said before? We’re partners—we’re a team. We should be walking together side by side, instead of one leading the other. If one of us is lacking in something, the other one should make up for it, and if we both can’t come up with a solution, we’ll consult a third party.”

There was a pause, and then you heard an exhale. It sounded like a mix of a sigh and a laugh. “I find myself envious of your levelheadedness sometimes,” he said. “You’re rarely swayed by emotion.”

I wouldn’t say that, you thought to yourself. “That’s high praise coming from the ever-impartial and reasonable Iudex. I would say I’m the one who has much to learn from you in that aspect.”

“No. You should not emulate me, Madame.” You nearly looked back in surprise at his suddenly clipped tone. He said nothing more afterward, and for a while the room was filled only with the sounds of breathing and the quiet rustling of hair being brushed. It felt like the calm before the storm, somehow.

“Sometimes, I feel as though I’m trying to navigate a maze without a map.” His breath ruffled the little hairs near your temple. You shivered unconsciously. “It’s quite frustrating.”

“I feel the same way,” you tried to sound as reassuring as you could. “This kind of relationship is new for the both of us. You’re not alone in this.”

“Is that so…” Neuvillette trailed off. You stole a glance at the mirror and saw a muscle twitching in his jaw. “I do not believe we are talking about the same thing.”

“Then, what do you mean?”

Neuvillette was silent for a moment before letting out a sigh. “My apologies, Madame, but I cannot quite describe it. I should not have vented such matters before our meeting tomorrow.”

“No, don’t apologize for that,” you turned to face Neuvillette. “Venting is good. It’s much better than bottling it all in. It’s a bad habit of mine as well, you know.”

“I can tell,” he murmured, causing you to raise your eyebrows at him. He cleared his throat and looked away. “I meant no offense by that, Madame.”

“I’m not offended. I’m actually surprised. You’re one of the rare people who can see through me. You should feel honored, you know.”

You tried to sound lighthearted, but Neuvillette just continued to fix you with a grave look. Maybe I should work on this more.

“Neuvillette, don’t worry. You’ve always been nothing but kind and considerate—I can’t imagine you doing anything malicious on purpose. You should just keep being yourself.”

“…I suppose you’re right, Madame,” he said at long last, but the heavy air around him didn’t dissipate. You held in a sigh. I’m terrible at this.

It was getting late. You needed to wake up early tomorrow to get ready, so you excused yourself and returned to your room.

As you laid in bed and stared up at your dark ceiling, you heard the gentle murmuring of rain outside. You hoped that signified good luck for tomorrow.

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