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lilisettean · 4 months

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Phantom Touch | Headcanons

About: It was one thing to video call him, it was another, however, to call/answer while you were barely clothed.

Pairings: Xavier/Reader, Zayne/Reader, Rafayel/Reader

Notes: This idea came to me when Rafayel video called MC in the middle of the night (Lv 20 Random Painting). Also should I do Caleb's as well?

Warnings: 18+ only please! Enjoy :)

Xavier

It was by accident when it happened. You were trying to find your favorite hairpin after your shower but it was nowhere to be found.

You searched high and low, flipped cushions and threw your blankets onto the floor. Nothing. Goddamnit you can't afford to lose that hairpin- it was one of the gifts Grandma gave you, you just simply can't lose it.

In an act of desperation, you called Xavier on your phone, not caring whether you pressed on normal call or video call. You just needed him on because you might've left it in his place.

To say Xavier was surprised the moment you came on screen would be an understatement. He almost dropped his phone (it did slip from his hands but he was quick enough to hold onto it), and not a word you said has registered in his brain.

His eyes were fixated upon the water droplets that clung to you skin, following the trail a drop of water left behind as it slid down from your neck, to your decollete, and between your cleavage. His mind was busy tearing that insolent piece of cotton fabric into shred for daring to shield you from his gaze.

It was only when you shuffled forward and waved a hand in front of the camera did he snap out of his less than innocent daydream.

"Xaiver? What are you staring at?" "Are you aware of what you are wearing?" "...Shit-"

"No, don't." He said the moment you tried to cut the call, and instead, with much strength he could muster not to ogle at your form again, he diverted your attention.

He found your hairpin lying on his bedside table and when you were about to thank him, a mischievous smile crept up his face, and you just knew what he was about to ask.

"Can I have a reward for finding it so quickly?" Xavier asked, his gaze predatory as he flicked his eyes down to stare at the towel that was clinging onto you for dear life. With slight trepidation, you settled down on the sofa, and slowly peeled off the towel that you knew he wanted off. Now.

You squeezed your thighs together and bit your lower lip when you heard the soft Mmh over the phone. He greedily drank in the sight of you, your bare, still unmarred skin glistening under the soft lights.

A daring thought suddenly struck you. Smiling at him, you brought your hands up to your breasts, propping them up and giving them a good squeeze (which he quietly groaned your name in response), before flicking your nipples.

You knew he was hard, with how he slumped against his sofa, one of his hands nowhere to be seen. The stuttered breath he let out made you wonder whether he was palming over his hard on as you gave him this little show.

He was. He was pressing his cock against his palm, rutting against it as you played with your pert nipples. He was imagining grinding his cock against you, fucking your slick folds as he buried his face between your breasts.

In a daring move, you tilted your phone downwards and lifted your legs, showing him the effect he had on you. But before you could spread yourself further to give him a better look, he suddenly stood up, giving you an eyeful of his clothed cock that was straining against the front of his pants.

Before he abruptly cut the call, he eyes drooped to a seductive narrow, and pinned you in place as he spoke.

"Don't move. I'll be there within the minute."

Zayne

Zayne, despite his icy demeanor, was a softie and a worrywart when it comes to you. He would always tell you to call him once you were home just so he knows you made it back safely.

So when he received a text asking if he was free and alone instead of a call, his curiosity was piqued.

As soon as he said that yes, he was alone and about to be off work, he received another text. A text that he did not expect you to send.

It was a picture of you on his bed, wearing nothing but one of his white button up shirts, if he can even call it that. You didn't button it all the way, leaving your collarbone and cleavage bare for him to see.

He immediately video called you, and as expected, instead of commenting on your attire, the first thing he asked was-

"Why are you in my bed?" "I knew you'd ask that first. Really?"

You explained with a huff that you wanted to surprise him a little. It has been a while since you two have seen each other for more than 5 minutes, with you two being busy with work and all. And with his day off being tomorrow, you jumped on the chance to be with him.

After a beat of silence and you fiddling with the hem of his shirt, he sighed, his features softened at your nervous fidgeting.

"Well, go on then. What do you have to show me?" "Show you- Aren't you still at the hospital?" "It's a peaceful day and I'm alone in my office. Would you give me a preview at what's in store for me at home?"

He stared on intently as you teased your nipples, brushing over them while they were still covered. Your pert nipples poked through his shirt, the outline of them fueling his imagination.

If you were on his lap right now, he would've done that for you whilst sucking on one of your nipples through the shirt you were wearing.

You were about to unbutton the shirt but his voice stopped you. "No, don't. Leave it on... Good."

He made no move to touch himself, as anyone could walk in at any moment, but by God did he want to. His eyes flicked between your flushed face and your body, already imagining the places he would leave his mark on.

He already knew what he would do to you once he got home. He would set you down on his lap, forcing you to feel how hard you made him with your little show, and leave open mouthed kisses on your neck while slipping his hands under his?- no, yours now, with how well you wear it, shirt.

But deep down he knew that once he got home, he would have no patience for that. He would most likely push you down to the bed and use one hand to grope your breast, while the other fixed your hip in place, allowing no escape as he rutted his stiff cock against you. He doesn't care if his pants get ruined, he just wants you-

"Zayne?" Your voice brought him back from his thoughts. And with much reluctance, he motioned for you to stop. "That's enough for now sweetheart. I still have to get home first." "Should I send you more pictures while you're on your way?" "No need. Just be a good girl and wait for me."

Rafayel

Being a painter, Rafayel would sometimes work late into the night, busy with his newest piece. And while he enjoyed the peace and quiet nightfall brings, at times he would find the studio too quiet, too suffocating, especially without you around. Thus, he would call you and ask you to keep him company as he painted.

And on this night, it was no different. Save for the brush strokes against the canvas, the room was too quiet for his liking. He had expected you to pick up within a few rings and show up disheveled on call, but as soon as you answered the call, the thought of teasing you like usual quickly dissipated.

"What- What are you wearing?" He diverted his gaze elsewhere, occasionally sneaking peeks at his phone screen while you blinked the sleep away from your eyes. Instead of your usual pyjamas, you were wearing a lingerie set he had not seen before.

He had half a mind to tell you to pull up the strap that had fell off your shoulder mid sleep, but the words died in his throat the moment you shifted and the strap slipped further down, revealing more of your decollete to him.

The blush that was already on his face intensified when he noticed the hickies on your skin, the evidence of him ravaging you highlighted by the moonlight shining through the window.

"Rafayel? What is it?" You asked, still half asleep. You wondered why he was quiet until you found him staring intently at your chest and- Oh. Of course.

You had bought it because you wanted to surprise him by taking pictures of it. But it seemed that you were too tired and fell asleep in the process. "...Surprise? I wanted to show you earlier but-" "Wait. Hold that position."

You did as you were told and froze. He was studying you again, perhaps for future reference. As much as you liked being his model, you pouted at his antics. Not even a single reaction? Sighing, you broke the silence between you two.

"I could come over and wear this for you, if you want." "You would do that for me?" "Of course." "Then come." "What?" "You said you would come over, no? Then come now. But before that..."

"Would you mind showing me more before I tear it off?" And how could you say no to a request like that?

Settling your phone down, you bent forward to show him your cleavage before standing to show off the lingerie you were wearing.

"Turn. Now hold it." You fidgeted as you faced away from the camera, wondering what he was doing as he marveled your form. The faint sound of rustling clothes and a belt unbuckling floated from the speaker, and you instantly knew what he was up to.

"Do you enjoy it that much?" "And what about it? Turn again."

As expected, he was sitting on an armchair, slowly stroking the base of his cock as he watched the thin fabric flutter around you. Heat pooled within you when caught his eyes roaming all over you, his face flushed and lips parted as he touched himself.

He groaned when you parted your legs to show him more of you, his cock throbbing at the sight of your slicked folds. Precome beaded at the tip as he stroked more, with some of it sliding down his tip and to the underside of his cock.

Something within snapped the moment you dipped your fingers into your wet entrance. And with one smooth motion, he stood up, unintentionally (or perhaps intentionally) giving you an eyeful of his stiff cock, and picked up his phone.

"Enough. Come to me now." "Just don't tear it when I'm there." "No promises." "Rafayel-" "Hurry now, before I come find you instead."

#love and deepspace #love and deep space #love and deepspace xavier x reader #love and deepspace zayne x reader #love and deepspace rafayel x reader #love and deepspace headcanons #so uh yeah. i might actually write fic based on this instead of just hcs #i am so down bad can you tell lmao

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fuckyeahdindjarin · 2 months

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Voicemail

A Seams oneshot, but can be read independently of the series

{ Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: T

Summary: You find Joel's old Nokia at the back of a drawer.

Warnings: Angst, description of a panic attack, grief, comfort, no use of Y/N, reader has a nickname related to her job, reader has no physical description, definitely incorrect description of how mobile phones work, very lightly edited.

As always, Seams oneshots are set on a relaxed timeline. Voicemail can be considered to take place at an unspecified time after Part IV.

Word count: 1.8k

Notes: I don't know if anyone has written anything similar, but I've always wanted to write something about Joel's Nokia (the idea for Butter actually came from the phone scene in episode 1 - can't you tell? lol). This idea took me by surprise one night and didn't let me go.

Important note: I know voicemails don't work this way, but let's pretend that they are saved onto the mobile phone itself and can be accessed decades later, and that a Nokia can indeed survive the apocalypse.

After the outbreak, after Sarah, after missing his shot - he doesn’t remember much of those early, blurry days. Tommy barely managed to drag his catatonic ass to an abandoned house somewhere on the outskirts of town, where he had to punch him in the face to snap him out of it.

It being a cocktail of shock, grief, pain and numbness that should’ve killed him, could’ve killed any man. And for the longest time he wished that it did.

It was in the aftershock of that punch, left cheek snapped to his shoulder and his eyes downcast, that Joel saw his Nokia was still clipped to his belt, by some miracle unscathed when everything else had fallen apart.

And he keeps it all these years.

He hadn’t meant to take it with him when he packed up his meagre life to leave Boston behind. But the grubby afternoon light glanced off the screen when he was grabbing maps and hammers from under the dusty floorboards, and with a fuck it, he shrugged and shoved it into the bottom of his backpack.

If he was being honest with himself, it didn’t feel right leaving it behind.

And so the phone made it to Jackson, and survived the detour to Salt Lake City, largely forgotten. Joel was almost surprised by the sight of it when he finally unpacked his bag in the house that was now his and Ellie’s.

With a wry smile, he tossed it into a nondescript drawer in the garage, never to see the light of day again.

Until one weekend, Joel asks you to help him find some obscure screwdriver in his garage, not able to get up from where he’s on his back, stemming the flow of the perpetually leaky sink in Ellie’s bathroom.

The space is cool, the shutters down and the air dank from the lack of sun. Under the flickering fluorescent light, you go through a frankly ridiculous number of toolboxes without sighting the elusive screwdriver. With a sigh, you try the middle drawer in the workbench, which is clogged with what looks like everything under the sun.

Your lips twitch - Joel Miller is a messy man.

Digging around the random clutter, you startle when your fingers brush the long-forgotten, yet instantly familiar plastic case of the Nokia.

Wrapping your hand around the rectangular frame, you smile, in disbelief that you’re holding a mobile phone. You had a similar one that got lost in the confusion of the first days of the outbreak, and you haven’t seen one in the years since. At least not one in such good condition.

Joel’s faraway voice jolts you out of your thoughts. ‘Found it, sweetheart?’

‘Just a second!’ you call back.

Tucking the phone back where it came from, you grab the nearest screwdriver and hope for the best.

It takes you a few days of asking around town, poking around dusty storerooms and untangling twenty year-old electric cords, but you eventually find what you’re looking for, and there’s a spring in your step as you cook dinner that evening.

Joel seems to pick up on your energy, and he grins, amused, when he brings in the empty dishes after you eat.

‘You’re buzzin’ out of your skin, sweetheart,’ he teases, grabbing you by the waist. ‘What’s up with you?’

You cock your head to the side. ‘Well, I have a surprise for you.’

‘Is that so?’ he hums, then lets his voice drop an octave in playful insinuation. ‘What kind of surprise, hmm?’

‘Not that kind of surprise,’ you huff with a smile. ‘It’s - it’s hard to explain.’

‘Try me.’

Twisting out of his grip, you open a cabinet and pull out something that fits neatly in your palm. Joel frowns, confused by what looks like - a charger.

When you speak, it’s slow, as if you don’t want to startle him. ‘There’s a whole warehouse of wires and things down by the canteen. A patrol stumbled across an electronics shop in a nearby town a few years ago.’

He gives you a crooked smile. ‘And what am I s’pposed to do with it, sweetheart?’

You take a moment, making sure that his eyes are on you before the words come out. ‘I found the Nokia in your garage the other day, when I was looking for the screwdriver.’

You watch as Joel processes your words, and he goes still, stiller than you’ve ever seen him.

Then he blinks and shuffles his feet, glancing down at the charger. ‘I - I didn’t expect this.’

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. ‘I know. And you don’t have to do anything with it, really, but I just wanted you to have it.’

He nods, slowly. ‘Ok.’

Hesitating, you stutter, ‘So, um, do you - want to take it -?’

Joel holds his hand out, calloused palm quietly upturned. You half expect him to jump at the contact, but he doesn’t move a muscle when the black wire lands in his grasp, and his thick fingers curl around them.

‘I got the dishes, if you want to go first,’ you prompt softly.

Joel swallows, then nods. ‘Yeah, I think I’ll do that. If y’ don’t mind, sweetheart.’

‘Of course,’ you smile, pressing a kiss to his lips.

It’s cold outside, but he doesn’t feel it, not when the charger seems to be burning a hole in his hand. When he gets back to his house - empty, Ellie is at Lucy’s for dinner - he heads straight to the garage, and tugs open the drawer.

The Nokia stares back at him, screen blank.

Flinging the charger into the drawer without seeing where it lands, he shoves the drawer close with a snap.

Weeks pass. It hangs in the back of his mind like a spector, even though you don’t bring it up again, and he doesn’t either.

He’s not sure if he’s afraid of it, or dreading it, or worst of all - hopeful of what he would find on it.

It’s been twenty years. Electronics don’t last that long. It’s gotta be wiped clean.

One Wednesday night, Ellie is upstairs, music blaring, doing ‘homework’ or whatever she does on a weeknight (he doesn’t believe in helicopter parenting), and Joel finds his thoughts drifting to that damn drawer.

Feeling reckless, he reaches for the top shelf in the kitchen, pours himself two fingers of whiskey, and charges into the garage.

Hopping onto a workstool, he takes a big gulp of liquid courage and sets the tumbler on the work surface. Before his resolve slips completely out of touch, he yanks on the handle, and he winces when the drawer yawns open with a screech.

The Nokia feels foreign to the touch, like he’s forgotten how to hold a phone. It was, of course, glued to his ear almost all hours of the day and night once upon a time. He turns the plastic case over and the other way around again, smoothing the pad of his thumb over the buttons.

There’s no putting it off forever.

In goes the plug into the electric socket, and he looks down, phone in the left hand, the end of the charger in the other.

He thinks he’s seeing double until he realises that his hands are fucking shaking.

In one determined motion, he slots the charger into the bottom of the phone and drops it like it’s acid.

Then he downs the rest of his whiskey.

He’s not sure how long he stares, the very air around him as unmoving as himself, and he feels the alcohol spread its warm fingers through his veins.

Just when he’s about to look away, it happens.

The battery sign appears on the screen.

Joel almost chokes on a chuckle. He can’t fucking believe it. You really can’t kill a Nokia if you tried.

It doesn’t take long for the familiar home screen to pop up, the time on the top right corner, the battery in the bottom right. The bright green glare casts a cool glow in the dim. Joel picks up the phone, only to be nearly knocked backwards off the chair when the words flash across the screen.

1 NEW VOICEMAIL.

He’s sure his heart has stopped, it definitely feels like it, a deadweight in his chest sinking into his stomach. But he hears it, the relentless beat of it, pounding violently in his ears. Too fast. Gripping the edge of the work surface, he tries to breathe, mouth open, but air isn’t getting in.

It could be nothing. Could be a voicemail he missed from a client that night, or a junk call.

He’s not sure if he’s afraid of it, or dreading it, or worst of all -

He’s trembling so badly that he needs both hands to hold the phone steady, just so that his thumb presses the selection key.

He doesn’t hear the pre-recorded message, his brain skips it entirely. Then there’s five seconds of silence, and his life flashes before his eyes at the familiar beep -

Dad, are you on your way home? Please tell me you remembered the cake. Uncle Tommy bet me ten dollars that you won’t and I kinda need that lunch money tomorrow. See you soon, love you dad -

And everything goes white.

When Joel comes around, he’s on his knees, the empty tumbler in crystalline pieces around him. The phone is no longer attached to the charger, clutched so tightly in his hands that he feels the imprint of every button in his palm.

He won’t know that his face is wet with tears until you thumb the streaks off his cheeks on your doorstep minutes later, no memory of how he got there. You draw him into you, but your embrace barely contains his broad frame.

You can’t get him far in his state, whiskey on his breath and shivering all over. You drag him across the living room and onto the couch, where you curl up against him, warming him up with your body heat, cradling his head on your chest. The candlelight bounces off the phone screen, which glows green in his grasp.

It will take him weeks to get his head around what you have given him. And when he does, he will ask if you want to hear Sarah’s voice - shyly - as if you would ever say no.

Watching him watch you, Sarah’s warm, fun-loving voice in your ear, the seams of your lashes sting with tears as your heart clenches, swells, breaks for him - and then put together again by his hand finding you, fingers filling the gaps between yours.

But for now, he lies prostrate, his weight pinning you to the couch, as you comb soothing fingers through his hair, anchoring him to you.

‘I got you, Joel,’ you whisper in his ear, and his eyelids droop and his breathing evens out, as if he’s run a thousand miles. ‘I got you.’

As he drifts off to sleep - his baby girl's love you dad echoing between his ears - he knows that you do.

More notes: I don't lean too hard into angst in my fics as a rule, so this took me places I haven't been for a while, but it's ok cos Pin's got our man 🥺 Thank you for reading, as always! ❤️

#fuckyeahseams #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #joel miller oneshot #joel miller imagine #the last of us fanfiction

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ch4nb4ng · 11 months

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Give it to me Straight

Pairing: Minho x afab!reader

Genre: Best friend's forbidden older brother

Word Count: 9.1 k (yeah we got carried away once again)

Warnings: Based off of inspo (here) and (here) that is also literally porn so dont click if u dont want to see you have been warned.

Also contains: smut, worshipping, angst, mentions of alcohol and intoxication, fingering (f receiving), kissing, penetration, lots and lots of praise, semi soft smut

Notes: HEY!! this is a fic i wrote hald of last year and just forgot about it and found and decided to finish it, hope oyu enjoy !!

Summary: You had enough of your best friend brother, Minho, giving you mixed signals as you grew up, but this. This was the night that you were finally going to do something about it

The night was pretty much over, or well, it should have been. But here you were, sitting on the floor of a random person’s apartment, giggling over and over as you looked at the other 8 people also sitting down in a circle next to you. There were your friends, Sana and Hyunjin, and there were the others. Actually, quite frankly, you did not know these people until tonight. There was one person that was there, that you did know, all too well.

Minho, Lee Minho. Friend, foe? You weren’t sure what to call him, but all you knew was that you were grinding on him in the club an hour ago, hands roaming across your body, lips, teeth on your neck. It was fun, one shot after another had your mind racing, thinking about the possibilities of what could happen after you went home, with him. What wasn’t helpful was the guilt that came with such excitement.

“Fuck okay,” the stranger yelled, clapping his hands before swinging them, taking the empty vodka bottle off the kitchen bench, “let’s play a good ole fashion game of spin the bottle. Who’s in?”

“Me me me!”

The small crowd cheered in unison, but all you could do was stare at him. More guilt, more excitement, more adrenaline. The thought of kissing him did nothing but intensify the want, the need, the desire to. Wanting to hook up with your best friend’s older brother was the worst thing that you could want at this very moment.

The relationship with Minho was always strange and never straightforward. Even from the first time the two of you met. Your best friend of almost 10 years since you had been in elementary school, he was just different towards you. When you were younger, all he did was pick on you. The short scrawny boy, only a couple of years older than you. Would always chase you around the school yard, always until you fell over, or hurt yourself in some kind of way. You hated him, and had no idea why he always picked on you specifically.

It changed in middle school, however, after puberty, well, more for him. His face changed, grew taller, much more attractive in your 14 year old eyes. You denied it though, remembering how cruel he was to you. Not much changed personality wise, he was still mean. Picking on you, your grades, his sister, her grades. He was ruthless, and it made you hate him even more. Minho’s looks were easy to overlook when everything that came out of his mouth was rubbish.

It wasn’t until he left for college, and came back for summer after finishing his first year, did things change. He had grown even taller, started working out, and had joined his college’s dance team. Holy fuck did things became different. His smile beamed as soon as he walked in and you in his house, sitting at the kitchen bench.

***

“Y/n?”

You turned around, jaw dropping the moment you laid your eyes on him. He dropped everything, fast walking towards you as he picked you up, spinning you around with a large chuckle erupting from his chest. He put you down, eyes doing a quick check up and down your body before biting down on his bottom lip.

“Minho?”

“Wow, you look, really, really good.”

His stance was close, almost lingering over you, that was, until your best friend walked in, causing him to step away, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked to the fridge so nonchalantly. Your friend gave you a weird look, mouthing a ‘sorry,’ solely for his presence in the room. They never were that close.

“I forgot to tell you that he got back a few days ago and is going to be here for the summer.”

“That’s okay,” you scoffed, overexaggerated manner, “why would you need to tell me that.”

“Because I know how he can be,” she whispered, “rude, mean, very obnoxious and super, super arrogant.”

The second half of her sentence was louder, looking straight at him to make sure she knew. You just laughed, nervously, unsure how to take in the interaction.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” she sighed, “please don’t bully my only friend while I’m gone.”

The man rolled his eyes, laughing as he took a large gulp from his water bottle. He walked forward, waiting for her to leave before reassessing his position. His hands leaned against the bench, body pushing forward as he leaned towards you, a smirk appearing on his lips as he looked down at you.

“I have to go, meeting a friend at the gym, but it was really, really good to see you. We should hang out sometimes if you’re free, you know, without her?”

“We should?”

“Yes,” he smirked, biting down on his bottom lip, “definitely.”

***

“Okay,” the stranger announced to himself, “I’ll go first.”

The game felt like torture. Simply watching the bottle, casting your eyes on what seemed to be an infinite amount of times, spinning on an axis. It didn’t help you at all. If anything, it intensified how dizzy you truly were feeling. Concentration was getting harder, but you refused. Refused to give up anything. You did not want to prove Minho’s point. That you would always be this little girl that is easy to pick on.

“Oh my god,” Hyunjin nudged you, “Y/n, psst, the bottle is on you.”

His knock cloaked you out of your drunken daze, bringing some sobriety back as he pointed towards the bottle, eyes opening when you saw it land on you. You looked up, seeing the stranger was already there. He was attractive, short black hair, hazel eyes, freckles. He was really cute, and your brain melted the longer he gazed at you.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you whispered, hand in front of your mouth as you giggled at his proximity. You didn’t have to look. The feeling of a pair of eyes burning into the side of your head was more than enough to know who had their eyes on you, and who didn’t. Chan did not, already ditching the game and sloppily making out with the person next to him. Hyunjin followed in pursuit, and Jisung and Sana, well, that was another story, a long time coming. The glance was brief, not long enough to focus on anybody, but well enough to know your surroundings. Enough to see the girl, who looked very familiar, but not enough to be identified by name, whisk her fingers across his inner thigh. He stayed still, not paying any mind to her as he fixated on you. The man joined in the staring contest, noticing Minho’s obviously unimpressed glare.

He swung his head back in your direction, pushing his body weight on you in the slightest. You followed, back now adjacent to the floor as he leaned over, lips hovering over your own. You brought your index finger to his lips, curious to know more about the man before he kissed you.

“Wait.”

“Is something wrong?” His facial expression changed, unsure as to why or what made you hesitate.

“Oh, no,” you giggled, full of giddyness and intoxication, “your name. I just wanted to know your name before we, well, you know.”

The man smirked, cupping your face in adoration as he leaned closer, lips wisping across your ear as he spoke.

“Well aren’t you just the cutest?”

He pulled away, eyes back in level with your own as he spoke once more, “Felix. I’m Felix.”

That was all you needed, wrapping your arms around Felix’s neck as you pulled him in, eyes closing and mouth opening and lips attacking yours. The kiss in reality, from an outside perspective, would have looked very messy. Very sloppy as lips missed each other, teeth crashed together, and also the fact that you could feel Felix’s hips moving against your own in the slightest, already half hard member grinding against your thigh. It did feel good, you couldn’t fib to yourself. The gentle friction was delicious. It was enough to make you moan discreetly, the sound lost in Felix’s mouth as the two of you continued.

You were enjoying yourself, but you also remembered not to lose yourself in the moment. Felix was fun, but he was just part of the plan. A simple pawn in a game of chess, of course being the queen and Minho the king. Sometimes you have to make some unnecessary moves to win in the long term. Even with your eyes closed, you could still feel his own burning into the back of your head. If sober, you most likely would have been feeling some kind of guilt. It wasn’t like you to rub things in other people’s faces. But you felt like it was only fitting. Yes, you wanted Minho, but after everything, your timeline with him, having a crush on him for the longest time regardless that he made your life hard, it only felt right to drag this out as much as possible.

Your eyes fluttered open, empty lidded shooting daggers at him. Appraisal came to your mind when his daggers were returned, gaze still very much fixated on you, with Felix, making out with another man right in front of him. His blood was searing, reaching boiling point at a very rapid rate. He knew you were a lot of things. Sarcastic, blunt, ‘indifferent’ towards him as you got older, or so he thought. But he didn’t take you to be a tease. He was reaching the point of no return, and if you didn’t stop this act, this play scene just for him, he was going to do something he regretted.

“Hmm fuck,” Felix grumbled, pulling away from you, “has anyone ever told you that you’re a really good kisser?”

Your eyes flickered back to the man on top of you, quickly averting your gaze to avoid any deflections from Minho, Chan, or any of the others there that you knew.

“Hey man, what are you doing?”

You sat up immediately, looking up to see Minho’s friend, Jisung, standing over you. His tone was playful, but the adrenaline was kicking in. The several times you met Minho’s friends, they were decent enough to be nice to your face. Anytime you went over, you could hear them. Talking about how you look, always asking Minho about you. Just them teasing him about you. Maybe it was the reason as to why he had so much disdain for you. They were also protective, very protective of him, and probably the reason why they were standing over you right now.

“Oh hey man, you’re not her boyfriend are you?”

“Who, me?” Jisung laughed, hard, almost hysterically, bringing a hand to his chest to calm himself down, “no no, not me, but the guy over there might be a little mad that you’re making out with his girl.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing onto Felix’s arm, other hand tucking under his chin as you pressed another haste kiss to his lips. You gave Minho one more look, noticing his fists turned inwards, hard shaped as he watched your interactions with the new guy accelerating.

“Good,” He smirked, standing up, and reaching a hand out to you as an invitation, “Did you want to hang out in my room? It’s just down the hall.”

“Sure,” you replied bluntly as you took his invitation. You allowed Felix to guide you, taking one last look at Jisung. Before making your way, you were interrupted one more time. It made you scoff when Minho grabbed your wrist, finally able to do something himself, not his friends doing it for him.

“Y/n?”

“What do you want?”

“Where are you going?”

“What do you think?”

With a heavy grip, attempting to shake yourself out of his grip. There was no way you were giving up on this act yet.

“You just met the guy tonight?”

“Okay and? It’s not like that ever stopped you before. At least I’m not at home, forcing everyone else to hear you late at night.”

He looked down, knowing he had been beaten to the punch. You resisted once more, able to come out of his grip as you looked up and down at him once more, “Stop acting like you give a shit what I do.”

You watched him open his mouth, but missed out on whatever he was going to say. You laughed to yourself, the swift motion of the man from the other side, Felix, the one who was giving you the attention you needed right now. Without a word, he closed the door behind you, spare hand placed on your lower back as he lead you to what seemed to be his bed.You sat down first, Felix making quick work as he stood over you once more, index finger stuck on your shoulder as he effortlessly as he ‘pushed’ you over, torso hovering on top of yours, just like he did previously. You had to give it to him. This Felix guy was smooth. The way he looked down at you, raking your body with every single eye nerve, the gentle twitch when he noticed extra skin showing on your body for a slight moment. He definitely was contributing to your uprising arousal, but the thing that really turned you on was the mere possibility of Minho hearing this. Having his ear up to the door, curious to see what you would really do.

“Hey,” Felix whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, taking you out of your thoughts completely, “everything okay?”

“What? Oh, yeah, where were we?”

You brought a hand to his arm, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion as his own came back to your chin, pinching it forward, lips doting to reconnect with his. His lips were smooth, not a crack or dry spot in sight or in feeling. The kiss was a lot more connected, a lot more teamwork and passion. His tongue lazily slipped inside of your mouth, picking up with much brute and force as his hips charged, recreating the prior friction against your core. Felix had one hand on the side of your jaw, the one on your chin snaking around and cascading down, in between your cleavage, past your navel, brimming on the edge of your undergarment line. You gasped, immediately, not expecting things to move so quickly. A stifled whimper escaped your lips, enjoying the friction his fingers created around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Oh,” you groaned, slightly high pitched and confused at first, but once his fingers dived past your dress, underneath your core, right in the center of your sweet spot, you groaned again, a deeper, more gratifying noise bellowing in response.

“Does that feel good?”

“Mhm,” you whispered, looking up at him, “feels so good already.”

Your hand felt dizzy again, a lightheaded texture adding. You weren’t sure if it was his fingers or the alcohol speaking, but it most likely was the loud bang that came from the east part of the room. You jumped immediately, bumping heads with Felix as you quickly covered yourself, given no time to fix your hair as you were being dragged out, Minho’s jaw clenched as he walked you out.

“Sorry, uh Felix, it was nice to meet you,” you yelled down the hallway, pushed all the way to the front door.

“Minho what the fuck?”

“Shut up and get in the car,” he growled, not putting up with any nonsense that you were about to spew at him, “Jisung’s taking us all home, your friends included.”

“Ugh, whatever,” you scoffed, the digging of his fingers becoming slightly painful. You opened the door, seeing Hyunjin’s smirk as soon as he saw you, hand in hand with Minho. He never had to say anything, he always knew how you felt about him, even when it wasn’t clear to you.

The midnight breeze was very apparent, hitting you like a truck. The goosebumps on your skin raised in an instant, shiver running down your spine as you walked. Minho let go of your wrist, removing his jump over his head, and plopping it on top of yours. You wanted to turn, scream at him for ruining your hair, not even thinking about your makeup. But honestly, you were just tired. It was late.

***

You pushed the button down in the backseat, letting the cool breeze smack you across the face as Jisung drove down the highway. It felt nice, distracting you from the imminent pressing of your best friend’s brother inconveniently pressing up against you, too big for the middle seat. Of course he had to sit next to you. Invade your personal space, your privacy. He was still overprotective of you, even when you were by yourselves. It was annoying, and you really didn’t know why he was always like this with you after the needless torture that was gorwing up with him around.

You decided to put the window up, a sudden drowsiness coming over you as you leaned your head against the window. Your eyes were fluttering, half lidded when you felt someone whispering, right up to your ear. His lips were cold, roughly but incidentally lingering on your lobe.

“Y/n,” Minho hushed, patting your arm lightly, “y/n, baby.”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, furrowing your eyebrows, “what is it?”

“We’re here, wake up.”

“Oh,” you sighed, releasing your weight on the window. Your eyes opened, turning from the window, which was a big mistake. You caught yourself, inches away from your face. Apart from the club, it was the closest you had been ever to him. You saw him, looking down at your lips, causing you to gulp loudly. You wanted to lean in, push away all the doubt you had in your mind, and follow your heart. To have him on your lips, around your body, caressing every crevice, every curve. It was something you had fantasized about in your head several times, whether you wanted to or not. Your hand flew to his chest, truly speechless and unsure what to say.

“Minho. I-”

He licked his lips, fingers latching onto your jaw, thumb against the subtlety of your lips. He flipped, lip bouncing back as he leaned even closer. His breath had never felt so imminent, not even the first time the two of you had shared a kiss.

***

“Did you need help?”

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest, about to lose balance on the stool. The tea bags were high in the cupboard, and you weren’t the tallest person going around. Minho put his arms out, helping you adjust yourself before stepping down and back onto the ground.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, “you know me, never able to reach anything.”

“It’s okay, they’re stored pretty high up.”

Without giving you time to move, he reached over, torso pressed against your chest, half of his body weight leaning on you as he reached up to grab one for you. Your face rose in heat as he placed it on the bench behind you, keeping firm in his position.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, still not moving, “I probably shouldn’t have done that.”

“Oh, uhm no, it’s okay” you mumbled back, pushing the hair behind your ear. He beat you to the other side, lifting his fingers, watching how delicately the fibers of your hair curved along your ear lobe.

Faces inching closer, it felt like do or die, but you would rather get hit by a truck than make the first move. Minho was the type to flirt, hard. He knew he could get anyone he wanted. College really changed him. For the better though, even if it meant he became a mass fuckboy.

“You have a really, uhm, beautiful face.”

He had become nervous all of a sudden, and you couldn’t help but smile. Smile at both his nerves and slight awkwardness, as well as his proximity.

“Uhm thanks,” you mumbled again, scared that if you attempted to speak at a normal volume, it would squeak, “you have a nice face as well.”

“Shut up,” he mumbled, piercing eyes boring into yours.

“Make me.”

He hesitated for a brief moment, before bringing both hands to your face, pressing his lips to yours. It was soft at first, a series of gentle pecks you wrapped your hand palms around his neck, keeping him close. His body felt good, right when close to you.

It didn’t take long for things to heat up however, Minho’s tongue begging for access as you gave it to him willfully, a gentle hum as he simultaneously rolled his hips into yours once. A soft groan escaped your lips, causing him to pull away. The smirk on his face was priceless; you knew he was satisfied with himself. His hands snaked down to your waist, lifting you up and placing you on the kitchen bench. Minho nudged your leg with his left knee, spreading them wide, allowing himself to fit into the curve. He kept his digits across your fingertips, gently tapping as he leaned back in, skipping the innocent kisses and heading straight to a heavy, heavy makeout. The noises erupting were increasing in quantity, and it wasn’t until you heard footsteps running down the steps were you snapped back into reality. Hands on his chest, you pushed him off quickly, pushing your hair back in front of your face.

“Y/n what’s taking you so long?”

“Oh uhm, I was just trying to reach the teabags.”

“Yeah,” Minho joined in, helping you cover your ass, “I just grabbed it for her, seeing as she was already in my way to get to the glasses, annoying ass.”

“Okay whatever weirdo,” she replied to him, “stop annoying Y/n.”

***

The memory of the flashback playing in spurts, ones that your intoxicated mind was probably failing to accurately recall the event. It was, however, enough for you to pull away. Saying nothing, you turned away, opening the car door, semi-stumbling onto the ground as you jumped out the car, heading towards his front door. Luckily your best friend was out of town, away on a camping weekend with her boyfriend and her parents, because if she heard you walking in with Minho, it was game over.

“Y/n,” he whispered, tone harsh like he wanted to yell, “y/n.”

It was nothing but a faint noise in the distance. You stood there, in front of the door, impatiently waiting for it to be unlocked. It wasn’t until you could feel him. He grabbed your wrist, almost having to yank you back to stop you.

“What,” you whispered back, similar in tone, “what do you want?”

He waited. It looked like he was trying to put a thought together, knowing that he needed to say something very important. It could make or break: everything. He took a step closer, that familiar feeling of adrenaline, no, some other feeling that you couldn’t describe. Made your heart race, body sweat. You couldn’t put your finger on what it was. All you knew was that it only happened when he was around you.

“I’m, I’m sorry.”

You looked up at him, adoration at how gentle his skin glowed in the moonlight. Fuck, this was annoying. Why did he have to be so hot? It would have been the easy way out to forgive him and let him do what you craved, yearned for. But it was simply too much to do so. This man had been toying with your heart for a long time. Whether he had a crush on you for the lingering amount of time that you had, you deserved better than someone who played with you for their own amusement.

“What are you sorry for?”

Your tone was calm, yet still firmly questioning him. It was easier to just deny the night events than argue about it.

***

The music was loud, deafening as Minho, dragging you by the delicacy of your poor wrist, locked in a spot right next to the speaker right beside the DJ of the club, aka pole position. At first the dancing was innocent, a bright smile of pure joy (and intoxication) plastered across your face, holding each other’s hands as you pushed and pulled them back and forth. It wasn’t until the motions of arms were not moving in the opposite directions, somehow were both pulling in his direction, right up against his waist. The music was much too loud to allow your rational cognitions to process the sequence of events. Facing him, not facing him. Appropriate distance, very much appreciate distance. It was hard to explain how you ended up with your back pressed against Minho’s chest, somehow in the monstrosity of alcoholic beverages and shots actually moving your hips in a synchronized way with his. Maybe it was the firm grip, thumb digging into the soft flesh that was hardly hidden under that dress, making sure that this was the only place you needed to be, that he wanted you to be.

Your hands easily followed too, palms on top of this tendon illuminating the side of his hands as his lips rested on the outside of the cartilage that made up your ear. The second time you could feel the magic that was his lips. The crowd that was Minho’s friends and the new, yet very much fun strangers that would end up making the later house party were long gone at this very moment. The only thing you could remember was coming with Minho, and the last thing you wanted to do was leave with him.

“Mmmm,” was all that could be heard, well no, felt from the man behind you. The vibrations of his lips were the only indicator that he was trying to say something. His teeth soon followed. Gentle, almost kitten-like nibbles nipped at the heated flesh of the neck and shoulder, head falling limp against his own shoulder as he continued to chuckle inbetween. There seemed to be an innocence to his antics, almost like he didn’t want to hurt you. Yet knowing the downright filthy desires, things he wanted to do, for a numerous amount of time was very much ironic.

Turning around, you pulled away, eyes boring into yours and his face came closer and closer. Eyes fluttering shut like a butterfly's wings for a brief moment, desire had never been stronger.

“There he is, Jisung!”

And just like that, it was over. Reality came back and your Minho clouded fog dissipated in a matter of moments, and it must have for him. You had never seen someone take their hands of someone with such speed. The timely reaction of Minho brought you back to a realistic part of your life. The one where this was nothing but a dream, and Minho was once again out of reach, and the many barriers that were his friends, your friend being in the way, made you nothing but a pawn in his chess game.

***

You stood there in silence, the only sound that could be heard was the ringing in your ears from the loud music prior. The want for him to explain himself was one of such desperation. A sign, anything at this point. Yes, you were very much exhausted from the games but if it was all worth it for him to finally do something about it in the end, the fatigue would be easily wiped away.

“I don’t mean to be this way. So, uhm, aggressive? Or the opposite, I don’t know I-”

“Minho in the nicest way possible, I’m tired and we’ve both had a big night. We can talk about it in the morning.”

Using the spare key that your friend had so graciously given you as a symbol of how much time you truly spent at her house, his house, over the years, the door was unlocked, you ripping your shoes off and letting them laz sprawl against the living room carpet as your body heavily dragged up the stairs. Your feet automatically knew the way to her room, 4 paces straight and two to the left. To get to his it was 7 paces straight 2 to the right. The 4th step on the second floor felt unnatural at this moment, body wanting nothing more than to be pressed up against him in a deep slumber, you craved it; but you knew better at the same time.

“Y/n.”

Silence. You could feel him coming closer, but it’s honestly just too painful at this point to even wait for anything more.

“Y/n.”

Silence, again. It wasn’t until you could feel the unintentionally harsh pull at your wrist, once again pulling back and up against him.

“Y/n wait.”

“For fucks sake Minho,” you huffed, yanking your arm away from his grip, “leave me alone.”

“No, I want to talk about it now.”

Nothing but an eye roll followed, ignoring him and storming into her room. He followed in pursuit, the first time any kind of behavior like this from Minho had happened before. Sitting on the edge of the side of her bed, you turned away as you took off your jewelry, precious earring and delicate chain necklace lying on this decorative plate placed on the bedside table.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Can we please stop pretending like there isn’t something going on between us?”

He was not serious. His bold statement made you stop, turn around and face him.

“You have to be joking right now.”

“Why would I be joking?”

“Minho” you yelled, standing back up and right in front of him, “this is nothing but a fucking game to you! We don't have a problem, YOU do.”

“I don’t play games with you,” Minho scoffed, eyes wide in his own disbelief, “you play games with me.” His voice was also beginning to rise in volume.

“That’s such a fucking lie! You’ve been playing games with me for years. Three quarters of my life! I know that you hated me or couldn’t stand me for most of that but then all of a sudden you come back from college and you want to be around me and all over me?”

“That’s not true-”

“Yes it is! You couldn’t stand me!! Then the kiss in the kitchen? Tonight, you were all over me and I could tell, drunk or sober, that you were enjoying yourself. Until your friends come along and I’m nothing but a secret little game-”

“No Y/n, shut up, that's not true!”

“Explain yourself then!”

Both of your chests were heaving simultaneously, the heated exchange taking the breath out of the two of you. There was no part of you that was wrong, and you knew better than to lack confidence, especially to someone who has kicked you around for what felt like your whole life.

“I never hated you,” he whispered, once again shifting the tense atmosphere in the room. He took a step closer, that goddamn palm resting on your cheek, fingertips pushing the baby hairs sticking to your forehead as you took him in, listening deeply to his words, “I could never hate somebody like you, Y/n.”

His tonality had become the softest you had ever heard someone speak. It was empowering to keep him on his toes, gaze fixated on him, but lips refusing to move. You could see it. The dip in his own gaze below your eye line, past the tip of your nose, and right to where you wanted his lips to be: your lips. The right thing, like your previous thoughts, was to pull away, save yourself the heartbreak.

“Let me take the time to show you how false that statement really is.”

But god, was it it easier to just give him. His approach was gentle, but the texture of his lips felt like the key to everything. The light weight of his lips were equivalent to a tuft of feathers falling from a clear sky. Your lips tussled in return, wanting to kiss the man you were in love with so much passion, yet so much reservation. His lips, unlike the first time, had so much admiration for you, somehow the feeling was communicated in the way his lips touched yours, the way his tongue slipped into your mouth, colliding with your own. The world stopped spinning, and the only thing that mattered was Minho’s lingering touch.

His hands scrambled to find an appropriate spot. His palms spread across your waist, the pressure of his weight pushing you to the edge of the bed, a small shriek escaping your lips as the sudden knock of balance leaves you lying against the material of the bed. His hands left your sides, one coming to your face as he broke away, taking a moment to admire you underneath him in all your beauty. He lifted his fingers to your forehead, brushing the baby hairs on your skin before smiling and leaning back in for another kiss. Hands around his neck, you brought him closer, gasping into his mouth when you felt the roughness of his knee conveniently sitting between your inner thigh, spreading to make room for his own.

You decided to take the liberty of breaking the kiss back this time, Minho rising on his own as he pulled his shirt off in one swift motion. Even the way he moved his limbs was majestic. Eyes widening for a brief moment as the shock of Minho’s body that you had seen many times, especially post-college transformation, it still amazed you how attractive this man was. The proximity all these years amounting to this moment. All the teasing, ignoring, negative behavior came as the collateral of coming to this moment; and you would tolerate all of it again if this what it would lead to. Which is why you refused to rush things, savor the moment as much as you could.

“Minho, wait.”

“Yes?”

“Can we just,” you were hesitant to ask for what felt like a silly request, “I don’t want to rush anything. Can we just make out a little longer?”

His chuckle was one of the most adored. He nodded as he got up from the bed, sitting back down at the edge of the right side. As he turned to put his leg atop of the bed, he leant on his left elbow, patting the empty spot next to him, a very adorable invitation that you simply could not resist. You shooed over, facing Minho as he pinched your chin, bringing your lips to his again. The kisses, for the moment, stayed soft, sweet. He was allowing you to take your time because he was ready. Minho wanted you so bad, but he knew better than to rush. If anything, the anticipation made him fall for you more.

However, the heat was unconsciously beginning to turn up once bodies became involved. The subtle grind of his hips against yours was sending you into a frenzy, and the friction was something you needed to chase. At first you were holding back, only wanting the generosity of his tongue and lips, but now the selfish part of you was taking over, and there was nothing more that you wanted than to have sweet passionate sex with the man in front of you. Gently pushing his chest away, he looked up, confused as you turned away from him, standing up and undoing the zip on the back of your dress.

“Oh,” was all he could say, a smirk plastered on his face as he dragged your body back toward him, now covered in undergarments, back to the bed. His hands became a lot more adventurous, taking the signal of you undressing yourself as an acceleration of what you wanted. Still facing each other, Minho placed a gentle peck to your lips as his arms wrapped around your waist, bringing you much closer to him, and exactly where you wanted to be.

Once the lack of space was established, Minho brought the tip of his digits just above your panty line. A small gasp elicited from your lips once his fingers dipped down to your clothing covering your core. Just above the center of the folds. Minho’s lips quiver at your body relaxing underneath his touch. The more vulnerable you became, the more in love he fell with you. Each second. Your eyes fluttering almost shut, hips gently bucking underneath the pressure of his fingers had his mind screaming with adoration. His gaze was making you shy, causing you to bury your head in his naked chest. You giggled with innocence at how good his fingers felt. The other times you reminisced, romanticized what this would be like was tenfold of what you actually expected.

“You’re so beautiful” he whispered, a soft kiss to the tip of your forehead. Your head came out of his chest, a somewhat fucked out expression already coatign your face as his fingers traveled back to the top of your panties, fingers grasping the hem before asking, “Can I take this off?”

You nodded, this time without hesitance as you turned to your front, assisting Minho in letting the thin fabric subtracted from your body. Your bra soon followed, leaving you completely exposed. Minho still had his pants on which you felt to be a little unfair, but the tent that was beginning to form in his pants was a reason enough for him to keep them on longer.

Turning back to your side, you reached him in another sensual kiss, bodies now as close as they had even been. Minho’s fingers had much more to travel, left palm already reaching for a gentle squeeze of your best breast. His touch was noticeable enough to break away, a small groan at the digits brushing your nipple. Another chuckle escaped his lips as he watched your nipples get harder under his touch.

“Wow,” Minho gasped, gently pinching the soft flesh his eyes couldn’t help but be glued to, “you look amazing.”

“Do I?”

“More than I could have ever imagined.”

Your silence made him giggle, fingers snaking back down to where the two of you wanted them to be. It was almost embarrassing how easily his index and middle finger slipped between your folds, already coated in your arousal as his digits swirled around your pussy hole. It was evident that he wanted his fingers coated, so when he brought them up to his lips, tongue evidently out as he licked them clean, then slid them back down to your waist once more, spreading your folds apart and pushing on your clit like a button. Your hands grabbed onto his shoulders for support, the sudden amount of sensation in comparison to before sending you into a frenzy. Your jaw had already become slick, the gentle whines and moans spilling out sound after sound.

“Fuck,” He cursed under his breath, lips right in front of your tits, teeth grazing over the geneoristy of the skin, “you have the features of an angel.”

His shower of compliments caused a louder moan to slip from your lips. It really wasn’t something that you expected. The fantasy you had of Minho being a rough, man handling lover contrasted to the man that presented in front of you right now. But it was much better than anything you ever thought he was to be.

His fingers moved in delicate circular motions, Minho himself groaning at how pretty you looked under his fingers. He kept his curiosity peaked, fingers traveling back down to your hole before plunging them inside, tips instantly curling to bring his lips right up against his own.

“Minho oh my god,” you gasped, short breaths hinting at a rapid pace from your throat as he started to move them back and forth, “your fingers are so good.”

“Your welcome,” he smiled, wrapping his free arm around your chest to adjust for the way your torso squirmed against him. Your own hands soothing his arm that did all the work as he picked up his pace, a slight bump forming into your pussy. Minho’s pace became quickly unforgiven, a spill of curse words that made you feel extremely dirty coming from your mouth. The irony of feeling dirty from cussing and not from the two fingers being shoved into your whole was comedic.

“Lift it,” Minho grunted, attempting to fix his position so he could get a better angle to finger you from, “lift your leg and put it on my hip.”

You did as he said, a gut wrenching moan that was bubbling in your throat bursting at the seams as your maneuver allowed his finger to enter deeper, stronger, harder. The combination of skin slapping and wetness could be heard by anyone in the house if there was anyone in there, the noise echoing the room as you watch his eyebrows furrow, bitten bottom lip in concentration. All this time, Minho wanted nothing more than to see you be happy, make you feel good. It was in half disbelief that he was present in this moment that he had dreamed of several times. And his perception of you, with his fingers inside of you, moaning his name over and over exceeded expectations to say the least. The temperature that began to rise on your cheeks was spreading to your limbs, muscles slowly coiling as the pleasure continued to build at your core. Minho’s jaw clenched, increasing his effort and strength in, with much effort, fucking you with his fingers. His pace became even quicker, desperate and motivated to make you shake under his fingers.

“Minho please,” you cried, suffocating his lips with yours to muffle the continuous noise that baffled the room, “so good.”

Your sentences, if you could even call them that, were not coherent in the slightest. Yet it did not matter. All Minho could focus on was how beautiful you looked with your lips pouted, the gentle teeth marks under your bottom lip from biting down on your precious skin too hard. The condensation beginning to cover the skin of your forehead as your eyebrows scrunched together, your facial expression could have been interpreted as anger. However, Minho failed to see it that way. He saw you as nothing but an angelic woman that he had the gratitude of being allowed to share a moment of vulnerability with. There was no judgment in his eyes as he felt your tight pussy clench around his knuckles, knowing how close to what you were, and what he wanted to achieve for your sake.

“It’s okay baby,” he whispered, wiping the moisture glistening on the nose, half of your face shimmering in the moonlight as he withdrew his fingers, rubbing the sensual juices all over your swollen clit as your legs began to shake in response to the overwhelming stimulation you were experiencing.

“Can you feel it?”

“Mhhm,” you whined, suppressing your lips together as you focused on him, analyzing to him the intricate details of your body. His lips moved with vigor, leaving a string of semi wet kisses along your shoulder, kissing every little skin contusion, beauty mark, scab, wrinkle, dimple. You name it, Minho was eager to use his lips to analyze you, analyze the way your skin felt against him. The idea increased your arousal to a level you thought would not be possible.

“I’m gonna cum Minho I-”

“It’s okay baby,” Minho hushed you, wanting to relive any pressures or expectations you may think you need to fulfill “even the way you speak such vulgar things is angelic to me.”

“I’m cumming,” was all you could cry out. You know that once this was over, you would be appreciative of how gentle and warm his presence was to you during this unguarded moment, but right now all you could focus on was the tight coil in the pit of your stomach that would give out at any second. Like your foreshadowed, your body was coming undone under him, Minho unable to give up the succulent ability that was your pussy as he reinserted his two fingers back into your hole, thumb almost ghosting over your clit in an attempt to not overwhelm your body in sensation.

Minho thought you couldn’t get any more fascinating. Even the way you orgasmed was angelic. Legs spread wide open as you let him have his way. The trust you developed in him in this intricate moment was such an attraction but mainly an appreciation. He knew that he had not been the most trustworthy person to you. His mixed signals and just overall treatment of you was simply a mind of confusion.

On the contrary, every negative moment that you shared with him melted away. The part of him having his fingers inside of you, bringing you to climax was not what you were focused on. You were focused on the attention. Solely the attention, his words held so much more weight than his actions to you in this moment, and all he did was mumble sweet nothings, adoring every single part of you that you wanted Minho to love.

“Fuck baby,” Minho groaned, finally withdrawing his fingers entirely from your core as he palmed his own arousal. But he merely wasted any time on that as he stood up and discarded his pants in an instant. A half lidded gasp came from your throat as you watched his length spring free from the suffocation of his previous undergarments. Minho laid back on the bed, back against the bed as you extended a hand in which you willingly took, enjoying the sudden rapture that Minho had tangled the two of you in. His fingertips came to your face once more, brushing those delicate strands away as he took his precious time. Willingly ignoring the fact that your very slicked up pussy was creating friction against his tip, he was more focused on your face. The crinkles underneath your eyes that came up when you smiled. The way your lips turned upwards in the slightest. The longer he looked up at you, on his lips, body pressed up against his, the more he fell in love. Both of your hands now came to his face. It felt like hours upon hours that the two of you had been looking at each other. Calmness fell over the room as you leant down to kiss him again. The taste of him was simply nor enough. You needed him. On you, next to you; it did not matter. His presence was something that you truly craved. Sexually, platonically, romantically, it did not matter. Any closeness with Minho was more than adequate. Deciding to lift your hips slightly, your hands followed, gripping him as you slowly slid onto him, a deep groan leaving his lips, a soft moan leaving yours as he stretched you out. Before you could even initiate any moment, Minho grabbed your arm lifting your palm to his face as he sent kisses up your arm, almost as if he was in complete disbelief of what was happening in this moment.

“I just want to worship you my god,” he whispered, making you giggle in the slightest.

His lips traveled just under your shoulder, arms wrapping around his torso to bring you into another embrace. It was that his strength was brute enough to lift you up, and put your back down. Hisbody almost moved with vigor, wanting to make sure the experience was an equal one. A sharp whine came from you as he established a gentle pace, your whole body being used in an attempt to pleasure the both of you. Someone may have seen this as selfish, Minho controlling the pace, but really, he just couldn’t get enough of how much he wanted you. The amount of times he had thought about this moment over the years almost derailed him. But nothing could be more perfect than the moment right now.

Your arms were wrapped around his neck, then on his chest, across his face, you were too stimulated to be organized with your hand placements. It’s just what he did to you. Minho could tell that you were unsure, so instead he just put his head in your chest, almost wanting you to wrap your fingers though the bse of his scalp, the gentle texture of your fingers against his scalp could have honestly made his toes curl. Just like you, Minho craved your touch in any way shape or form, so the combined combainton of your closeness, tussling digits, and tight pussy was sending him into a headspin.

“Minho,” you hesitated, unsure, if he could hear you in the muffle of your chest, “Minho.”

You were desperate for him to hear you, yanking on his locks to pull him away from the darkness and back into your gaze. His eyes were glazed over for a moment, an innocent peaking on them as he looked up at you with intent.

“Yes my princess, my Y/n?”

“Yours?”

The skin slapping, volume of each time your ass landed on his hips was increasing, but no matter the crescendo, it was never loud enough to get in the way of the intimate looks the two of you had a silent agreement to fixate on.

“Mine,” he moaned, hands snaking back down to your hips, breaking this distance and once again guiding the speed of how fast he filled you up, “all mine.”

“You’re so gorgeous,” you mumbled, barely able to talk at this point, “I want you so bad you have no idea.”

“You have me,” he almost chanted, “you have me. I have you. Always.”

Your head rolled back, the intimacy of his words, rather than his cock, bringing you closer to the brink of pleasure. The attractiveness of finally putting his walls down, striking his fear of vulnerability was unmatchable. Even if things didn’t work out with Minho in the future, you knew that deep down, no one else could ever make you feel this way. Minho was a witch, and the spell he was casting on you was something that would be everlasting.

“I love you,” you cried, throwing your head back in somewhat embarrassment, “I love you Minho.”

“I love you too baby fuck,” he grunted, increasing the strength in which he filled your pussy. He couldn’t handle this anymore. Flipping you over, his body hovered, cock pressing your back into the mattress. On his knees, Minho trusted deeper and deeper, your eyes almost cloudy from how good he truly felt inside of you. Another sensuous kiss ensured, the combination of his deep moans and your vibrating whines slipped into each other 's, easily one of the most intimate things that could ever be done.

“Mhhm,: You whined, breaking away and placing a hand on his face, “I fucking love you.”

“I fucking love you, my Y/n.”

“Oh god,” you breathe heavily, free hand gripping on his shoulder, “I love when you call me that?”

“What? My Y/n?”

“Yes,” you hissed, piercing into his eyes, this time with vigor, “it makes me yearn for you.”

“You have me baby,” he smirked, eyebrows soon furrowing as he realized his hips were getting sloppy in motion, “I’m all yours.”

You could not stop kissing him. He was just too hard to resist. His words, actions, everything, you were so in love that your chest began to hurt. That pit was developing again, and all he had to do was say the words and you were there. Minho took your hand away from his face, pinning them on either side of you as he slid his fingers in between, allowing your hand to intertwine with yours. The affection was the icing on your cake, because as you felt the swirls of his finger prints trickle onto your palm, your hips were spasming.

“Minho I’m-”

“I know baby, it’s okay, he cooed, “I can feel your pussy clenching hard.”

A little giggle escaped your lips as your body raked itself of an orgasm. Back arching, the loudest noise you could have possibly made erupted from your mouth, the unintentionally new angle allowing Minho to plunge even deeper, keeping it slow as he allowed you to come down from the high. He pulled out right after, pumping himself a few times before finishing just above your core. He fell to your side, immediately lifting your body, wanting to feel that constant warmth as he placed your head against his chest, arms wrapped around your back as he kissed the mount of hair in front of his face. His heartbeat was warm, fast, but stil, a sense of comfort felt over your body as you listened to the organ pump in his chest. The moment was silent, yet comfortable, the both of you simultaneously soaking in that delicacy of affection that you both oh so craved, longed for.

Even after all of that, you still had the energy to do so. Minho read your mind, giving you a quick peck before quickly pacing out of the room. The ache in your heart had already reappeared at his absence. The craving would never stop. Luckily he was quick, grabbing a paper towel, cleaning you up, running back to the bin, the running back and jumping onto the bed, your body flying in the air as he caught you, snuggling up to your side with his head pressed into your chest. Your hand came to his hair, letting those fingertips frolic across his scalp. A silence fell over the room as the two of you simultaneously stared at the ceiling, the dim shine of the moonlight shining through the window, lingering across Minho’s side profile.

“I was being serious, you know.”

“About what?”

“Hating you.”

Minho turned onto his chest, wanting to make sure that you were staring at him when he said this.

“I could never hate you Y/N, my Y/N.”

He crawled up to your side, tall enough to press one more kiss, lips lingering across yours as your eyes fluttered shut from his touch. Lifting the cover, Minho invites you under after climbing in first, turning to the side to hover over your now very tired frame. Lips nudged behind your warm Minho kept mumbling, a combination of kissing you and whispering, the tiny vibrations from his voice tickling the bare skin.

“You’ll have to kill more before I ever let you go.”

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vampiretendencies · 1 year

Text

request; jj blurb idea! wearing his clothes for the first time/him seeing you in his clothes for the first time. maybe showering at the chateau but you didn’t bring anything so he gives you a tshirt! hehe literally kicking my feet under the table rn

pairing; jj x fem!reader

warnings; fluff, maybe suggestive

authors note; i was doing the same when you sent this anon in love with this idea ! (req a blurb from below w what’s left on the prompt list, or send in blurb, imagines, & fic ideas) a few more hours until season 3!

other ways to say i love you prompt list

The opportunity to wear JJ’s clothes tainted your thoughts undoubtedly.

Not only because it belonged to him but because everything about JJ’s wardrobe, is so JJ.

No problem with repping any and everything that belonged to your infamous boyfriend. Wether it be wearing his pair of boxers as shorts, a wife beater to slumber in, or a random tee shirt to go out in broad day light.

You just longed for his material to be around your figure.

Congenial and adequate, soft yet comfortable— all elements of his clothes that are alike with JJ.

They are his clothes, after all.

“JJ let go of me!”

Stood smack in the the middle of JJ’s room at the chateau. His window partially open, wind bristling from the night air, making its way through. Whilst the hard wood floors beneath the two of you tracked the imprints of your feet. Bed rolled around in, from you forcing JJ off of you then— merely to let you get up and off of the bed to shower, that you did. Since you came out though, wearing little clothing, (given that there wasn't much of your own items lying around at the Chateau) he hasn't let you be.

He encapsulates you with his sinewy arms, body swallowing you whole. Whilst you forcefully push your hands against his broad, shirtless chest— the skin mellow and thick. Indentations of your miniature hands marking his skin, like your were a rag doll; screaming for dear life.

All JJ could muster was a low, raspy chuckle.

“Say you won’t leave.”

JJ wanted to make love to you all day long.

Not sex.

But emotionally.

To emotionally make love, to have and hold. A day full of luster, every millisecond spent around or with you. To confide in and maybe even shrink you and put you in his pocket.

A keepsake.

“You know I can’t, I don’t have another change of clothes.”

Behind every ‘can’t’ JJ miraculously finds a way, opportunity at hand to see you clad in something of his.

“Lets find you something of mine?”

JJ flicks his tongue, peering down at you due to the fact that he knows he’s won and you aren’t moving a muscle. His hands maneuver themselves to the lower part of your ass, hands habitually grasp the masses with a squeeze of his hands.

“Are you gonna’ give me something to wear then or what?”

You hid your secret giddiness inside, not wanting to be the one to initiate this sentiment— things seemingly working themselves out anyway.

“Actually, baby … just fuckin’ walk around naked … s’even better.”

He acknowledges the glint in your eye, possibly even a twitch that says, ‘get me some damn clothes before I wring your neck.’

“Okay okay, whatcha’ thinkin’ a little Heywards t-shirt action … Bait Shop shirt … ?”

He let go of you distastefully, instantly salivating for the contact again. Walking over to the wooden drawers of his dresser, pulling out multiple options— signaling you to come over and pick.

“Surprise me.”

And you turn around, facing the emptiness of his room, that wasn’t his room, but nonetheless. Rummaging was heard as he hummed and mumbled minuscule things to himself.

“Turn around, pretty girl.”

An off-black brownish t-shirt is thrown into your hands. A decor in the upper left side that read ‘Sex Wax Est 2005’, font circular and embellished with stars on either end.

“Your turn-“

He was already turning around, the gentlemen that he prided on being. You grinned at the cotton beneath your digits, bringing it up to your nose— though it had been washed, his powerful musk still retained it. The silky sensation of yeasty beer and a freshly rolled blunt encompassed your senses.

“Need more time?”

“Just a second, J.”

If only he knew your fixation was obsessive beforehand.

“I’ll just be here … y’know ... missin' my girl."

Feet away, physical touch being his love language fully had a choke hold on him per usual.

After you were done with your inspection you pulled the thin material of your cropped cami past your shoulders, bra clasped tight to your back. Leaving you to remove those lacey pocketed shorts that adorned your body; his shirt lazily pulled past your head, drowning you in its bigger size, falling just to your mid thigh.

The sole way to sleep with JJ disclosed.

You felt more his than you ever had in the past; claiming his array of bib and tucker with exuberance.

His baby suffocating in him.

You cleared your throat gesturing for him to turn around, his mouth gaping open as he's awe struck; open long enough that you were impressed something didn't fly in it.

"Shit you look better than me!"

Ogle eyes whilst his mouth formed a tight-lipped smile, stomach churning and insides wavering at the woman he chose to take part in his life with him.

It may be a shirt to most, but with his person inside of it made it all the more nostalgic, heart growing tender.

"C'mere gotta get a better look at you."

Following suit you step forward to him, lips instantly connecting with your jaw with pure infatuation.

"S'perfect baby."

"Yeah? Think I can pass as the new JJ Maybank?" In the same position the two of you were in minutes ago, except grins are wider and souls aching all the more for eachother; and you mocked him.

"Pass me a beer and a J."

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supernovafics · 4 months

Text

𝐖𝐄'𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k words

summary: in which it was a drunkenly suggested idea that actually didn’t sound too bad, and it was somehow easy to turn your friendship into something a little different. the hardest part should be keeping it a secret, but instead, it’s making sure that things don’t change more than they already have

warnings: explicit language, friends with benefits, sexual tension, implied smut, a lil angst

author’s note: first time writing for eddie (finally!) this is slightly based off the song “homegirl” by king princess. specifically the line “we’re friends at the party, i’ll give you my body at home.” more eddie stuff coming soon? eventually? maybe..?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

From the beginning, you both had the same understanding of what this was.

Two friends having fun every once in a while. Two friends doing things that two people who were just friends wouldn’t do with one another. Two friends that wanted something completely and utterly not serious because they both had just gotten out of shitty relationships and weren’t in the right headspace to commit to anything.

You and Eddie agreed on it all.

And you two also agreed that you could never tell your friends about what you were doing.

You could only imagine the concerned and confused looks that would’ve been shared amongst them all if you and Eddie sat them down and told them about what had been happening for the past five months. Steve would think it was kinda weird and so random. Robin would say the same thing and also add that you two being each other’s rebounds would only mess things up within the friend group in the long run. Nancy would go on and on about how this was not the way that you two should’ve been coping with your respective break ups, etc, etc.

Neither of you wanted to hear any of it, so with hushed whispers and the linking of pinkies in the middle of the night— moments after you two had drunkenly made out in the bathroom of The Hideout and were debating on whether or not you should move things to the back of Eddie’s van that was parked right outside— this quickly became the best kept secret.

During group hangouts and other social situations, you and Eddie were just friends— nothing more, nothing less— but when you were alone, it was different.

In a way it was fucked up, and on some level you both could recognize that. Falling into each other’s beds most nights was definitely not a good way to cope and deal with everything, just like Nancy would’ve told you both, but so far it was working perfectly fine. And how easy and okay it all was— how it somehow never felt weird or wrong to flip that switch and change your friendship into what it now was— only sometimes confused you.

And just for a moment, as you and Eddie sat in his van outside of Steve’s house, you were hit with that confused feeling that also slightly surprised you. It was fleeting, as quick as it came it was washed away, and then it was forgotten.

“Come on,” You mumbled against his lips before fully pulling away. “We need to go inside before they think we got into a tragic car crash while going to get this fucking ice.”

“One more minute,” Was all Eddie said in response as his lips found your neck.

You savored the feeling for a second before your hands came up to his chest to softly push him away. “Nope, no way. Do not give me a hickey right now, Munson.”

He only laughed and you simply rolled your eyes at the sound as you opened the door and stepped out of his van. You headed to the back and Eddie followed suit, opening the doors so that you two could grab the ice that you’d been tasked with getting forty minutes earlier. You picked up one and he grabbed the other two, and then you pushed the doors back shut with your free hand.

“How you getting home tonight?” Eddie asked you. You knew what his question really meant— Are we going home together?

“Not sure yet. Might stay with Robin since it’s her birthday and she said she’s probably gonna just spend the night here. Or I’ll drive with Nance,” You answered, shoulders lifting in a small shrug.

Neither of those things would end up happening, you knew that you’d probably be leaving here with Eddie in a few hours. But it was nice to tease him right then, push his buttons a bit.

He only smiled at you, easily reading through the bullshit laced within your words, and was completely okay with playing along. “Okay, got it. I guess I don’t have to worry about bringing you home.”

“Guess not.”

You two were already standing in front of Steve’s front door, but you simply held Eddie’s gaze for a few beats longer, the smallest smile playing on your lips, before you pushed the door open and the teasing conversation immediately became drowned out by the music.

Steve waved you both over to the kitchen. “Finally, you’re back.”

“There was some traffic,” Eddie told him and Steve surprisingly didn’t question the excuse— even though there being traffic in Hawkins was an insanely far-fetched statement to make.

You handed the bag of ice in your hand over to Steve, which he put in the freezer and then he and Eddie poured the others in the coolers that sat on top of his kitchen island that had beers and sodas in them.

You were about to walk away— see if you could find Robin, maybe wish her happy birthday for the third time tonight— but Steve slung an arm around you before you could. “I need you to be my beer pong partner.”

“Y’know, Steven, I don’t think it can really be considered as a partnership if I’m the one doing all of the work to make us win,” You said, but still let him drag you to the table littered with red solo cups anyway.

Two rounds of beer pong later, both of which you and Steve— mainly you— won, you were slightly tipsy. Definitely nowhere near drunk enough to do the karaoke that was set up in the living room, like Robin, Vickie, and Nancy. Although you did enjoy their very theatrical and soulful performance of Somebody to Love by Queen.

However, you were just the right amount of tipsy to smile when you spotted Eddie through the throngs of people, smoking weed on the couch and talking to Gareth. A part of you wanted to walk over and settle yourself in his lap, but thank God your thinking was still somewhat logical and you reminded yourself that you couldn’t do that.

Instead, you settled for sitting on the arm of the couch and feet resting on the dark cushion, close enough to Eddie but not so much that it would raise a thousand alarm bells by your friends if they saw you two right then. He looked up at you for a brief second, giving you a small smile that practically melted your insides, and you were the one who had to pull your eyes away from his first.

A silent conversation played out in a matter of seconds— he held the joint out toward you in offering, not even breaking the conversation with Gareth as he did so, and you grabbed it, taking a long drag before handing it back to him.

You were only half-paying attention to what they were talking about, some new horror movie that you hadn’t gotten around to seeing yet. All you could really focus on was Eddie moving a bit and leaning against your legs.

It wasn’t something that was entirely un-innocent— you could’ve easily pictured Robin or Steve or Nancy doing the same thing— but coming from Eddie it nearly drove you insane, and you had a feeling that he knew that. It was always the simplest of touches that made you essentially fold for him, when he’d place a hand on your knee whenever you were in the passenger seat of his van or when his hand would find the small of your back whenever you were at The Hideout and surrounded by way too many people.

And it was especially easy to fold when you weren’t fully sober.

You looked down at him and noticed the smirk on his face and you had to hold back your eye roll. If he was going to tease you, you were willing to do the same back.

You abruptly got up from the couch. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

You didn’t wait for his response before you started walking away, but you hoped that he picked up on the request that was hidden beneath your words.

The first floor bathroom was luckily empty and you flicked on the light as you closed the door behind you and faced the mirror above the sink. You were only looking at yourself for a brief second before the door opened and you turned around to face Eddie.

The same fucking smirk was on his face as he pushed the door closed and locked it behind him and then immediately reached out for you. “C’mere.”

“Mm-mm.” You shook your head as you stepped back away from him. “I just wanted to talk.”

He let out a small laugh at that. “Okay, yeah, let’s talk.”

You leaned back against the sink and looked up at him. “So, what was that movie you and Gareth were talking about?”

He stepped closer to you, closing a bit of the small distance between you two. “A dumb horror movie.”

It was hard to ignore the feeling of his hands coming up to your waist, but you still did so anyway and you didn’t push him away. “Okay, so I shouldn’t go see it?”

Eddie only shook his head no in response. He started slowly rubbing your sides, his warm touch practically burning a hole in the dark high-waisted jeans you were wearing.

“Do you have any recommendations?” You asked as your arms came up to loosely circle his neck. “I wanna watch something I haven’t seen before.”

He didn’t answer your question that time around and instead leaned in to kiss you. But, you turned your head at the last second and he groaned into your neck, which only made you smile.

“We can watch any movie you want right now if you let me take you home,” He mumbled, lips humming against your neck.

“I have a feeling that we wouldn’t be watching the movie if that happened,” You said and held back your laughter at the second groan he let out. “And besides, we can’t leave yet. The cake hasn’t been cut and we haven’t even sung happy birthday. Don’t you remember how birthday parties work, Munson?”

“Your pretty face is making it really hard to remember anything, sweetheart,” He told you, pulling away and a hand came up to stroke your cheek. The cool feeling of the rings on his fingers brushing your skin was a nice contrast to the burn of your cheeks.

Things had been changing recently, a shift that neither of you wanted to acknowledge just yet; maybe because it was hard to tell what exactly was changing. And so, things kept continuing as it was.

You shook your head a little and let out a small laugh. “Always such a charmer.”

That time when he leaned in to slot his lips against yours, you didn’t turn your head away.

“Only for you,” He playfully whispered against your lips.

He pulled back before either of you could even think about making the kiss deeper and he looked at you so sweetly. You suddenly wished that the light was off and it was dark right then so that you didn’t have to see his face.

That confused feeling was back, and you finally understood what it meant. It hit you so abruptly and harshly, it almost felt like you were finally being shaken awake to what was so obvious. You liked him— more than just a friend, more than you ever let yourself think before. And you almost instantaneously came to the conclusion that this, the way you were feeling, was entirely one-sided.

When this first started, it was because both of you were essentially embracing that old saying of “if you wanna get over someone, get under someone else,” and it worked for you. And it wasn’t just the sex, it was the half-awake pillow talk moments after and listening to music in his van as you two sat outside your house when he was dropping you off that meant the most to you, that helped you actually get over your ex and his shittiness. But, you didn’t think that it was the same way for Eddie.

He loved his ex, anyone with two eyes could see that. And he still loved her, more so than he let on, and that felt like something only you could see. The longing look on his face whenever he talked about her to you, the nostalgic smile he’d get whenever he mentioned something good about how they used to be. It was obvious how he still felt.

And just like that, the spell that you’d been cast under in this moment was broken.

You let out the smallest sigh and detangled yourself from him, letting your arms fall to your sides.

He looked at you, confused. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Maybe everything. “I’m gonna get some water.”

You were pulling yourself out of his grasp and brushing past him toward the door, but Eddie’s hand found yours before you could twist the lock.

Reluctantly, you met his eyes and his voice was soft as he spoke. “You can tell me anything, remember?”

A few minutes ago that felt entirely true, now you weren’t so sure, but you still nodded anyway. “I know.”

“So, what happened in the last thirty seconds?”

A part of you wanted to say it. A part of you wanted to be honest with him.

But, you couldn’t.

Because you were convinced of what the outcome would be if you did— you could already imagine the sad and pitying look that would cross his face and essentially say it all. If you told the truth in this moment, it would fuck up your friendship and it would fuck up what you two had turned your friendship into. Therefore, you came to the quick decision that you could bury it all down for however long you needed to so that you didn’t mess anything up.

You bypassed Eddie’s question and instead closed the newfound space between you two, pushing yourself up on your toes and pressing your lips against his. The kiss was different this time around, it was no longer soft and teasing. It was deeper, more needy and desperate, and Eddie reciprocated in a matter of seconds. He turned you both around so that you were pressed up against the sink again and he immediately lifted you onto it, barely detaching from your lips in the process.

If the circumstances were different, you would’ve fully let him do whatever he wanted to do to you in this bathroom. But, things wouldn’t go farther than this in here; not in Steve’s house, not with your friends just down the hall.

When you pulled away to catch your breath, your lips brushed against his ear as you spoke. “I want you to take me home tonight.”

The smile Eddie gave you made your heart constrict in your chest. It almost made you want to blurt out how you were feeling right then because maybe just maybe he actually did feel the same.

But, of course, you didn’t say anything. You had another secret to keep and you would force yourself to be entirely okay with that.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

let me know ur thoughts<333

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things fluff

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lovings4turn · 4 months

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୭ 🗝️ ✧ ˚. 🪩 puppy love . . . (l.h.)

— the last thing that you expect to find when wandering around monaco is a lone dog also exploring the streets. your search for his owner proves far more successful than you could have imagined.

+ requested by a lovely anon! this idea was so so cute so thank you sm for sending it in, i hope you enjoy! banner from cafekitsune!

+ pure fluff, roscoe is the ultimate match maker here.

monaco was truly everything you could have dreamed it would be, and then some.

for the past few days, you and your friends had frequented the glorious larvotto beach, explored the overly lavish stores and casinos, and had even been convinced to walk the length of the famous race track that encircled the streets.

meanwhile, your nights were spent in fancy restaurants and expensive clubs, the over-priced champagne giving you a real taste of the opulent lifestyle of those who lived there.

months and months of extra shifts at work had finally paid off, and so you were determined to make the absolute most of every last minute of the trip. not a moment was to be wasted, which was exactly why you and another friend were wandering around the city whilst the rest of your group slept off an awful hangover.

it was as you lifted a hand to adjust the sunglasses that were slipping from your face that you caught sight of a flash of brown in your peripheral vision. confusion prompted your brows to furrow, a feeling that only heightened as you realised what the flash actually was.

seemingly on his own was a large bulldog, pink tongue lolling out of his mouth in a display of happiness. a brief survey of your surroundings confirmed your suspicions that the dog was unattended, and your frown deepened.

unable to leave the poor thing by himself in the middle of such a busy place, you began to walk over, taking slow, tentative steps in an effort not to startle the animal.

“hello,” you cooed, voice heading up an octave as you held out a hand in a gesture of friendship. “oh you are gorgeous, aren’t you?”

your friend stifled a laugh at the sight of you, crouched down and offering your hand for the random dog to sniff, an experiment to decide whether or not he would deem you worthy of his companionship.

“what are you doing here, hm?” you continued, more to yourself than the dog. “where’s y’parent?”

as the dog tilted his head in search of gentle pats, he had also inadvertently revealed the collar sitting around his neck, complete with a silver tag that, thankfully, appeared to be engraved.

still cooing and fussing over the animal, you gently plucked the tag between your fingers. you manipulated the metal away from the sun in order to make out the letters printed there, and sighed in relief as you read.

ROSCOE. IF FOUND, PLEASE CALL XXXXX-XXX-XXX.

bingo.

“don’t worry, roscoe,” you hummed. “gonna get you home.”

your fingers danced across the keypad of your phone. as the familiar sound of the dial tone rang out, you gnawed at your bottom lip, anxiously awaiting an answer.

not wanting to let him out of your sight, you remained in a squat position despite the burn building in your thighs. the feeling of soft fur against the palm of your hand turned out to be one hell of a motivator.

“hello?”

the voice on the other end of the line was, undoubtedly, male, and also undoubtedly breathless. a pang of sympathy struck you as you noted the worry in the stranger’s voice, as if he’d been hunting for the dog for a while before your call came through.

“hello! sorry to bother you,” you started, tongue poking out to wet your lips before you continued. “but i think i’ve got your dog with me. he’s a bulldog? roscoe?”

“oh thank god,” the stranger rushed out, a thankful chuckle rumbling through your phone’s speaker. “i’ve been all over looking for him, i was starting to get worried.”

“he’s okay, i’ve got him here and he seems… pretty happy, actually,” you assured, unable to keep a smile out of your voice as roscoe’s tail began to wag a little faster.

scanning your surroundings in an effort to find some way to mark your location, you noted a café with a name emblazoned above their doorway.

“i’m right next to a roca, the little café?” you explained. "i don't know if it would be easier for you to come to me. not sure how i'd get him to follow along with me, is all," you laughed.

"a roca," the man mumbled, an affirmative tone in his voice. "give me five minutes, i'll be there as fast as i can. thank you so much, seriously. i don't know what i would have done if you hadn't found him."

your face flushed a little at the appreciative tone and high praise, and you struggled to keep the smile out of your voice as you replied.

"it's really no problem. i'd want someone to do the same for me."

after exchanging quick goodbyes, and not before being thanked another three times, you and your friend managed to coax the dog a little closer to the café, wanting to find the quietest spot possible on such a busy street.

"he said he was coming?" your friend confirmed.

"in about two minutes."

"did he sound cute?"

"seriously?"

your friend only laughed, shrugging her shoulders in nonchalance. in her eyes, the question was fully justifiable, and you would have happily answered it if the answer had not been yes.

a few more minutes passed before a familiar voice met your ears, prompting you to look up in search of roscoe's owner.

what you weren't expecting was to meet the eyes of a man who was downright beautiful. he was practically divine, his deep, tattooed skin glowing under the sun as though it had been crafted purely to highlight his biceps.

his braids were pulled back into a ponytail, and as he smiled at you in thanks, you caught sight of the slightest gap between his bright teeth.

you'd stumbled across the dog of a fucking god.

"hi!" you greeted, hoping that your cheeks didn't look as warm as they felt.

judging by the smug look that your friend was giving you, it seemed that pure hope wasn't enough. luckily, the man was far too preoccupied in attaching a lead to the collar of his dog, enthusiastically stroking him as he gently chastised him for running off.

"thank you again, seriously. i swear this has never happened before," he said with a chuckle, hand scratching at the back of his neck.

"really, there's no need to thank me." you dismissed his praise with a wave of your hand, though your smile was practically splitting your face into two. "anyone would've done the same."

"maybe, but it was you who did, so thank you..." he trailed off as he spoke, a clear prompt for you to give your name.

"y/n, i'm y/n," you responded, cringing as you instinctively provided a small wave with your name.

"y/n," he repeated, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "i'm lewis. 's nice to meet you."

before you could say anything else, the man began digging through the pockets of his trousers, clearly hunting for something.

"i almost forgot. let me repay you, thank you, whatever you want to call it," he mumbled, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he hunted for his wallet.

"stop, really, it's okay!" you assured, not needing money for the simple act of being a decent human being. you hadn't exactly done anything heroic. just kept a cute dog company until his even cuter owner arrived to reclaim him.

"fine," the man, lewis, agreed, laughing slightly as he took his hand from his pocket. "at least let me take you out to dinner?"

if you were in a cartoon, you're sure that your jaw would've hit the floor in shock. a soft, subtle nudge from your friend was a sharp reminder that you should actually answer the man instead of simply staring in surprise.

"i'd like that," you responded, biting back the wild grin that threatened to spread across your features.

"great. tonight, maybe?"

"sounds perfect to me."

"i'm looking forward to it," lewis said, the corner of his eyes crinkling playfully. "give me a text. you already have my number."

he shot you a wink and, thankfully, decided it was time for him to depart. though you were sad to see him go so soon, it served as a blessing in disguise. you were allowed to keep your cool, as he didn't get to see the sight of you and your friend freaking out, crazed grins and loud laughs escaping you at the absurdity of the situation.

you'd gotten a date with the most gorgeous man you'd ever seen, and it was all thanks to a dog.

monaco truly was a magical place.

🏷️ : @faerieroyal @starriesworlds

add yourself to the taglist here !

#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton blurb #lewis hamilton drabble #lewis hamilton fic #lh44 #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula one x you

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igotanidea · 1 year

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Home : bat!family x bat!sister

Summary: no one gets to offend my siblings and father. No one but me. I'll make sure of it.

***

Maybe it was a bad idea to apply for that Erasmus program and leave her brothers and adoptive father alone for whole three months. Sure, studying abroad, expanding knowledge, learning language and customs was an amazing experience, but it came with the cost. The price of being in fear that her family would get themselves in trouble, pain, fight they could not recover from.

The first two weeks of her adventure was the worst, since she was waking up at most random night hours, ready to jump into fight, those vigilantes instincts and habits kicking in.

Those were the nights when she was turning and tossing in her bed unable to close an eye and in result sneaking out her dorm room and walk around the campus like the ghost. The quietness and peacefulness of her surroundings at the academy were so different from those she knew in Gotham, it was almost disturbing.

There was no denying that Y/N was the smartest in the family, even Tim admitted it once (obviously not while talking to her, but she overheard his conversation with Bernard) but at times like this she was second-guessing her choices.

Due to her specific upbringing and family background she also never managed to form any deep connection with her fellow students, preferring to stay by herself, focus on the task and putting a lot of work into expanding her knowledge and skills in technology. She never complained, but from other people’s perspective she was an eremite. Kind, polite with perfect manners when someone asked her for something or while working in group, but still highly reserved. Just like her adoptive father, whose relation to she was trying to keep a secret. And it worked up to the day when one of the lecturers accidentally called her “Miss Wayne” in front of the whole class. The second he did it the air in the auditorium froze. She might have been in different country, but for God’s sake she was studying technology, of course everyone heard about the Wayne Enterprises and the Bruce Wayne.

“You’re his daughter?” one of the boys in the lower row turned around and eyed her suspiciously

“Yes. Adoptive one.”

“Of course. He’s well known for taking kids in, right? Seems like some sort of complex or maybe even a disease” he smirked and it made the girl clench her fist. Her relationship with Bruce might have been rocky, but no one except her and her brothers were allowed to judge and offend him.”

“Care to elaborate on that?” she hissed, eyeing the guy with ice cold gaze

“Miss Y/L/N! Mister Olsen! Please calm down and sit down!” the teacher tried to make up for his mistake but it was far too late for that.

“You misspelled my name once, might as well keep calling me Wayne now.” the tone of her voice matched the gaze. She was not going to let the guy easily, but getting in trouble with the dean was not a part of her plan. “Now, can we continue with the lecture? I don’t know about anyone else in her, but speaking for myself I would love to actually learn something useful.”

***

Y/N was the middle child. Younger than Dick and Jason, older than Tim and Damian which placed her literally halfway in the family. Because of that she was a mix of responsibility and carelessness, doing her own thing, not always the right way, but still capable of getting away with a lot more than the others. Not as family oriented as Dick, feeling a bit overshadowed by Jason, highly competitive with Tim and more independent and individualistic than Damian. Still, even despite her “boss bitch” attitude, she was sandwiched between her brothers which made her the best negotiator and mediator in the family. Y/N also had a strong sense of fairness and morality and would always try her best to do the right things. Objectively, not subjectively. And making fun of her family was not one the things she could forget. However, before taking any action she had to gather intel, figure out what the guy knew and then come right at him.

***

Waiting till the end of the class was probably the greatest torture she ever had to endure, every minute stretching into infinity and when it was over the sense of relief almost made her drop the plan. Almost.

“I’m not done with you, Olsen.” she was faster to the door, stopping her potential victim from getting away.

“You want more, Wayne?”

“Please. Hit me with your best shot. What is your problem with my family, exactly?”

“Let me think” he tapped his chin. “There are so many. Like for instance, your oldest brother. What was his name again? Oh, right! Dick. Suits him quite well, doesn’t it. A prick, if you ask me. Definitely a show-off with no skills.” He scoffed “Shall I continue?”

“ Please. You got like three more people to gossip about.”

“The second in line, Jason, right? Oh, the unhinged one. Violent, mocking, thinking he is better than anyone else around, when in reality he’s just a lost, scared child. Probably a dumbass too.”

“Pretty sure he would agree with that. Now what about Tim and Damian?”

At this point Olsen was getting a bit surprised that the girl in front of him was still unfazed. Her calmness, a sign of silent inside fury making him slightly uncomfortable. Not enough to stop however.

“Drake…..” the name rolled of his tongue while the boy was wondering what words to choose “oh, he’s the gay one, right? Such a shame that the renowned Wayne family has someone like that as a member. Bet your father would never take him in, if he knew. A fairy becoming the next CEO of his renowned company. How ironic!”

“Hm.” Oh, Y/N was so much like Bruce at times and it showed in the least expected moments.

Damn that girl! How could it not make her angry?

“And …… Damian, the only biological child. Absolutely maladjusted and unaware of social norms and boundaries. Tell me, how was it like to have your youngest brother violate your boundaries and personal space?”

“It was. ….educatory. Just like it was with everything you just said. You presented yourself as someone with some serious psychological issues and possibly an unhealthy interest in my family’s life. So thank you, it truly was illuminating.”

***

“What the hell did you do Y/N?” a very alerted Dick appeared on the other side of the screen

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” The girl sighted and fell onto the cushions bringing the computer onto her lap to see her brother better

“Don’t lie to me now, sis.”

“I wouldn’t even dream of it.”

“Bruce has been on the phone for the last fifteen minutes and from what I figured it’s about something that happened on the campus.”

“The only thing happening on the campus are students who skip classes.” She mumbled “maybe except that one time when one of the boys lost some stupid bet and blew up the fountain as some sort of punishment. That was funny.”

A little grunt was heard on Dick’s side and for a second he disappeared from the screen.

“Dick?”

“Sorry, I had a little interruption.” He rubbed his forehead “Now, back onto what you did…..”

“Did you say that someone blew the fountain?” third face appeared on the screen in the corner, taking over the conversation.

“Hello, Jason.”

“Hi sis. Maybe I should have joined you in your academic career. Seems like you have a lot of fun there. Besides, I never really finished school, since you know…. I died.”

“We know.” Y/N and Dick said in unison

“Always a good opportunity to remind you, right?” he grinned “Now, sis, tell me, how was it going full rogue on fellow student? I gotta admit I’m proud of you here.”

“So that’s what this is about?” Dick’s eyes grew wider than ever “I;m gonna ask you once again, Y/N. what did you do?”

“Nothing permanent.”

“What…..?”

“Cut her some slack, Grayson.”

“Look who decided to join us.” Y/N smirked “improved your computer skills much, Damian?”

“I got tired of being left out.”

“Since when do you care about the group?”

“Leverage, sis. Knowledge is power, I thought you knew that.”

“Ok, that is enough!” Dick finally lost his patience “I’m trying to have a conversation with my little sis here. Both of you, get out of the line!”

“Mhm, keep dreamin’ Dickhead.”

“For once I agree with Todd.”

“You have no right to…..”

“Guys…..” Y/N tried to mitigate them, but deep inside she enjoyed their bantering. It was a while since she experienced it and only now realized how familiar it was.

“I was here first!” Dick yelled “And I’m the oldest”

“No one cares Grayson! You are a Bludhaven resident now. Just because you visit the manor does not mean you can keep Y/N busy using the wayne’s devices!”

“Don’t you have someone to kill in the crime alley, Jay?”

“Unlike you, I succeeded in all my latest missions.”

“Is that what you call coming back to your safe house bloodied and injured. You were on the verge of death!” Damian smirked “you were absolutely inept, that’s not a success.”

“You were what, now?!” Y/N shrieked. Her second oldest brother was sometimes too careless.

“It was not that bad, Y/N, I swear. And how the fuck do you know about it, demon?”

“I have my ways.”

“I would suspect Drake of spying on me, but you?”

“Speaking of the devil, I’m surprised Tim hasn’t already join us.” Dick muttered

“Oh, he did.” Y/N pointed out

“WHAT?” her brothers cried. Now there was another one fighting for her attention and it was not a secret that Tim was her favorite making the situation harder.

“I did.” Tim chuckled “Well, to tell the truth Y/N let me in the channel. We have our ways with technology. Something none of you could ever fully understand. “

“Of course not….”

“Cheer up, Dami. You can’t monopolize all the areas.”

“I would beg to differ.”

“Ok, everyone hold up here. I think we lost the point of the conversation. The thing was that Bruce was on the phone, probably taking to the dean about….”

“Y/N played a little prank on her classmate, is that right?” of course Tim was the one who everything best.

“He deserved it.”

“Y/n…..”

“Stop using the big brother voice on me! It’s not going to work!”

“How about we use Damian’s youngest one?” Dick teased

“I refuse to be used in this….”

“SHUT UP DAMIAN!” Dick and Jason shouted together and shared a murderous look between one another. Now they were both desperate to find out what happened since Tim would rather die than spill the bean. It was infuriating. They were the older brothers! This had to mean something.

“Ok, that’s it.” Damian stood up and the view of the empty chair in the place where his face should be was highly disturbing.

“That is not good.” Y/N said out loud something that all of them already knew. Her presumptions turned out to be right a second later when the shouting and yelling reverberated through the speakers and a blur of black and green rushed into Dick’s room.

“hey, I want to join the fight too!” Jason started up and with a speed, Wally West could be jealous of involved in the mix of limbs and screams.

“Wait! I though Dick was in Bludhaven! Tim?”

“Not today. We’re all in the manor.”

“And you idiots were talking to me through four different computers?”

“Are you actually surprised?”

“On second thought, not at all.” She sighed. It’s a good thing you are the reasonable one here…..”

“There you are, Timmy” now the situation has turned as it was Dick who appeared in the door of Tim’s bedroom “you are not getting out of this. If you want Y/n to yourself you have to fight me.”

“And me!” Jason tackled Dick to the ground with a loud thump

“Losers!” Damian jumped over their bodies and came right at Tim

Because of their actions, Y/N was the only one who noticed two men stepping from the shadows and exchanging some words. Apparently Bruce wasn’t capable of putting the boys in their places and asked Alfred to try this instead. And a single grunt from the butler did a miracle as all of them stood up and started explaining and apologizing. Funny as it was, Y/N knew that with Bruce’s arrival she was heading straight towards preaching from her father.

“Y/N.”

“Hello Bruce.”

“Did you break his arm?”

“You broke his arm?” Dick was halfway out but turned back immediately

“No.” Y/n shook her head “I broke his arm and hurt his legs.”

“Don’t forget that you also demolished his dorm room.”

“That wasn’t me. That was….”

“Did you go at him as a vigilante? Wow! Way to go, sis. Now I truly am proud of you.”

“Ok, both of you, out!” Bruce lost the rest of his patience pushing Dick and Jay away. “Now that we are alone…….” he sighed deeply closing the door tight

“I;m not sorry.”

“Oh, I know. And I’m not mad, because I’m sure you had a reason to do it. So tell me, why?”

“you…. you want to know ?”

“Of course. Look Y/n, I’m aware I won’t get a father of the year cup from you, but I care all right? Did that boy hurt you and you took retaliation? Just tell me….”

“He was talking shit about our family.”

“And you felt the urge to protect the Wayne’s honor?” Bruce smirked “this is so not like you.”

“Honor, my ass. We’ve lost that ages ago, Bruce. The only thing I was protecting was my sole privilege of mocking you. No one else is allowed to do it.”

“I’ll be sure not to tell your brothers that you miss them. “

“That would be most welcome.”

“And you have to know that we don’t miss you either, y/n.” father and daughter’s gazes met and they both nodded in silent agreement, right corners of their mouths lifting almost unnoticeable. “You coming to visit next week?”

***

Something was wrong.

Something was terribly wrong and that tingling sensation became unbearable the second she climbed the manor’s stairs and reach for the doorknob with a heartrate so fast it would send anyone else straight into cardiac arrest. Y/N however kept her cold blood, focusing on what may happened inside and considering her options and strategies for a potential fight.

She could not expect that the moment she opened the door four figures would jump out from the shadows making the noise that would bring the dead from behind the grave. It startled her and as a result she stumbled back, hitting the wardrobe and making it shake. She could not expect that on said wardrobe there would be packets and packets of paint and that those would fall down straight on her making her look like some abstractionism painting.

“I hate you all.” She muttered while her brothers run away in four different directions.

“Welcome home, miss Y/N” Alfred approached her with a tissue so she could at least wipe the paint from her eyes.

“Home.” She whispered “Yes, it definitely feels like it.”

It was good to be back.

But she was still going after them. .....

Later. When they would least expect it.

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alexsoenomel · 4 months

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Random Joel Miller Headcanons:

Joel was an early bird, always had been, so naturally he would wake up before you to make breakfast and coffee.

He liked taking care of you. He was a man of a few words; didn't say much, but his actions spoke louder than words.

He liked when you would play with his hair whenever he couldn't sleep and you liked the way his soft gray locks felt between your fingers.

He was not the one to tell you what to do, but he would sometimes get very protective, like a guard dog, to the point where he would forget you were in fact an adult. He would try to control you, tell you what you can and can't do, but it never worked with you. It would always end with you telling him to fuck off.

Joel loved teaching you how to play guitar. He loved watching you as you would get lost and bit your lower lip as you tried to play a simple note. He thought you were cute whenever you would get frustrated.

Bickering, lots and lots of bickering. He was twice your age and you enjoyed reminding him of that.

"Not bad for a man in his 70s," you told him once, panting and covered in sweat after multiple orgasms he gave you.

"I'm 56, dumbass," he told you, trying to catch his breath.

"Perv," you teased.

"Oh, fuck off."

He would wake up in the morning because of you, he would try to live and not just survive because of you. Everything he would now do, he would do it because of you.

You loved to snuggle with him, especially during winter, because that man was a walking, taking heather.

Music. He loved sharing his favorite songs with you. You loved how excited he would get, when you actually knew the song.

Showering together; the purest form of intimacy. You loved washing his hair and he loved washing yours. He loved feeling your body under his rough fingertips.

Night drives. You loved watching him drive and the silence of the night, so every once in a while you would go on a drive in the middle of the night, listening to music, eating junk food under the stars, or you would pull over to the side of the road and fuck. Handprints all over foggy windows were a regular occurrence.

Animalistic sex. He loved making you scream in pleasure to the point where you couldn't take it anymore. He loved making you his in every position, location and at any given time. Biting, sucking, scratching -- he loved everything. Age was just a number in his ID; that man fucked like he was in his 20s.

He loved hearing you whimper and fall apart under him. He loved the way you would forget everything but the sound of his name whenever he would fuck you.

Slow sensual sex. Even though he loved fucking you senseless he also loved making love to you. He loved worshipping every inch of your body, taking his sweet time, teasing you until you couldn't take it anymore. He loved the way you would look at him. He was aware how much he was loved by you, but still thought he didn't deserve it.

Kissing. That man loved to kiss. Your neck was his favorite spot. You loved to bite his lower lip, just to tease him, since he would always get hard from it. He loved the way you would play with his lip between your teeth.

"Stop biting me, we are in public."

"Make me."

The first time he told you he loved you was in the bedroom. His guard was down, he was pounding in and out of you slowly as you were digging your nails into his shoulder blades. He still had no idea why he said it, but there was something about you that day. You were completely lost in him, telling him how good he was, how handsome he looked and how he made you feel so so good. He couldn't help himself. He whispered a soft I love you into your ear before you came, moaning his name over and over. "I love you too, handsome," you told him before kissing him. He would never forget it.

Enjoy me being delulu y 'all. Still struggling to write and feeling like shit. Hopefully it will pass soon, it's quite annoying.

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xysidhequeen · 2 years

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The King and his Red Knight

DPxDC crossover fic

Part 1

Really sorry to everyone who suffered through the fact that I didn't know about the existence of readmore. I can't fix the thread now but the individual posts are better? Sorry I have like a very rough idea of how this site works 😭

Check the: The King and his Red Knight tag to find all the parts

"Go here, Danny. Go then, Danny. Go to a random cemetery in the middle of the night for no reason, Danny." A voice grumbled, accompanied by the sound of sneakers rhythmically tapping stone.

Danny Fenton, currently Phantom, sat on a gravestone, his white hair a beacon in the dark night. There were no stars in the sky for him to gaze upon, their light hidden behind swaths of smog and neon lights playing off the gray clouds.

Clockwork had dumped him here, with no explanation for why. Not that he ever really explained much when he sent Danny off on his tasks. He supposed he should be grateful, at least he was in the same when rather than being transported a thousand years into the past.

"Wait here King Phantom. You will understand in time." Danny mimicked his mentor's voice as he let himself float off the grave he'd been dumped on after Clockwork shoved him out of a portal. His body floated higher until he could flip around, his legs crossing. He sat upside down, his chin in his palm as he glared petulantly at the assembled gravestones surrounding him, his toxic green eyes glowing.

"So far all I've seen is a concerning amount of ecotplasm for a city without a ghost portal and some blob ghosts! How long am I supposed to wait here?" Danny asked the air, and the aforementioned blob ghosts who were hanging off his body, soaking in the ambient ecotoplasm he radiated at all times now.

Neither provided him with an answer to his question and Danny let out a frustrated groan as he lowered his still flipped body to look once more on the gravestone he'd been tasked with waiting on.

Jason Todd, the name read. The dates, too close together, made something in Danny squeeze painfully. He'd been young, barely older than Danny when he stepped into the portal. Only for this teenager there had been no ectoplasm to bind to his dying body and repair the damage of death and force him back into a semblance of life.

"Who were you and why did Clockwork send me to you?" Danny asked the gravestone, one clawed finger tracing the words before he pulled back with a sigh when the gravestone gave him no explanation. The dead didn't always speak, not even to their king.

Turning his body Danny looked over the rest of the cemetery. It was empty, as most usually were this time of night, of the living. There were a few shades wandering around, circling closer to him, drawn by his presence. No full ghosts though, but oddly enough there rarely were in cemeteries. This was where the dead came to rest. To remember, if they wanted to. Cemeteries were sacred spaces to the dead, much as a temple or a church would be for the living who were religious. Ghosts who still clung to life, to their obsessions, did not frequent cemeteries, did not dare trespass and disturb those who had already found their peace.

Danny himself was an oddity. He had never shied from cemeteries, enjoying the peace he found in them, the guarantee of safety offered. And perhaps, he mourned that he himself would never have a gravestone for the living to place their flowers and their tears at. Who would make a grave for someone who was both alive and dead? There would never be a body to bury for him. His human half would continue to live on so long as his ghost core remained and could fuel it.

Maybe that was why he found peace in cemeteries, for all his whining that Clockwork had dumped him here. Cemeteries were for the living and the dead, one of the only places both existed in harmony naturally. For someone who was as much dead as he was alive such a place held a certain degree of belonging for him.

Danny straightened out in the air, letting his body lie above the grave as he folded his arms behind his head and looked up at the covered sky. He complained and whined about this task, but he was secretly glad that Clockwork had given him something to do. Even if it was just 'hang out in a random cemetary'.

Ever since he'd graduated high-school, revealed himself to his parents and discovered how deep prejudice and hate could run, and he'd run away to the Infinite Realms for sanctuary while his friends moved forward with their lives, he'd felt unmoored. A ghost with no haunt. Bored was too light a word for the gaping emptiness he felt in his chest, for the loneliness clawing at him. Clockwork, Wulf, Pandora they could help chip at the ache inside of him but not banish it. Not now that his family, his friends, were spread so far apart and so distant from him.

Not that he resented their choices, their distance, in fact he'd fought for them to do just that, to get out of Amity Park, to go to college, to become more than overworked teen superheroes. Still he missed them, even if he could visit them whenever he wanted. It was becoming clear as time moved forward that the world they belonged to and the one he did were two different things.

Danny Fenton couldn't go to college when his parents had declared him dead. Danny Fenton didn't exist as far as the government was concerned. Danny Phantom couldn't return to Amity when those same parents were waiting to capture him and tear him apart 'molecule by molecule'. Danny Phantom couldn't go back when the GIW were crawling over the town like ants.

So neither Danny Fenton or Danny Phantom returned to Amity after that day. And he made sure they couldnt follow him when he ensured the portal that took his life to function never opened again. He didn't need the portal any longer to get in and out of the Infinite Realms, and it was safer for the ghosts, his subjects, if the temptation of the Fenton portal was gone.

The world of the living was not yet ready to accept that the dead didn't always stay dead. And Danny would keep his people safe until they were.

Danny jolted from his lazing state of reverie when a pulse of emotion rocked through him, the strength of it stealing his breath if he had any to take.

Fear/Trapped/Dark/Fear/Help/HELP pounded into him and Danny frantically flipped around, head swiveling, poisonous green eyes wide as he triedf to locate the source. The emotions, the plea for help, burned his core, his Obsession screamed at him.

Help/SomeonePlease/Dark/Trapped/CANTBREATHE/HELP another wave of messages, of emotions pushed themselves at Danny and this time underneath the onslaught he could hear a rhythmic thudding. Danny looked down, horror filling him when he realized the thudding was coming from under the ground. From the grave he'd been hovering over for an hour now.

Danny flew down, sending back a wave of I'mHere/HelpIsComing/I'mComing to the boy trapped in his own coffin, feeling the intense wave of relief and hope sent back before he dived into the earth as if it wasn't there. Danny paused for a moment when he passed the thick wooden coffin, seeing a boy in the dark with wide, panicked blue eyes and fingers tipped with shredded nails and fresh blood.

"Hey, I'm going to get you out of here, okay?" Danny told the boy, keeping his voice gentle, soft. The boy jolted, fixating on the only source of light, Danny's growing green eyes. Danny hoped his smile came off as calming instead of 'freaky AF' as Tucker liked to call it. He grabbed the boy, Jason, as carefully as he could and then let his intangibility wash over the terrified teen as he lifted them both out of the coffin.

When they emerged from the coffin and the ground Danny set the teen down, leaning him against the gravestone, his own gravestone, and pulled back a bit. The boy was gasping in air as if the fetid, polluted air was the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted.

Danny tilted his head as he watched the boy ground himself. Now that the emotions were leveling out and his Obsession was purring in contentment rather than growling in a frenzy, Danny could feel something off about the boy.

Disregarding the fact that he'd just come back from the dead, of course. But that wasn't the oddest thing Danny had seen in his afterlife. No the boy felt... not like a normal, living human. Not even like an Amity Park resident, who all felt more than slightly liminal. No this boy, this Jason Todd, felt closer to liminal than even Jazz, Tucker or Sam, who were three of the most liminal humans Danny had ever been around.

Jason felt almost...like a ghost. But not. Danny could feel the tickle in his throat that proceeded his ghost sense but the tell-tale mist never emerged. It was as if Jason was...like him. But Danny couldn't sense a core either. Even halfas had cores.

"Who are you?" Jason spoke, breaking Danny from his thoughts and examination. Jason was looking at him with a mix of gratitude and suspicion. Which, fair. Danny had just pulled him from his own coffin and there were so many questions that could stem from all of this, disregarding all the weirdness that was just Danny himself.

"I'm Danny, Danny Phantom. Or just Phantom. I go by either. And you're Jason, right?" Danny asked, smiling at the teen and oops, yeah that was definitely his scary smile based on the slight flinch there. It wasn't his fault his teeth were too sharp now and his lips split a bit too wide.

"How did you know that?" Jason asked, blue eyes narrowing. Danny nodded at the gravestone the boy was leaning against with a raised brow. Jason turned and almost toppled over from the movement. Danny frowned as the boy caught himself on his gravestone. His skin was still pale, too pale, and as Danny watched Jason swayed again.

"Shit. You're fading. You didn't form a core and your body isn't stabilizing." Danny cursed, moving towards the boy who scrambled back, only to be stopped by his grave.

"What the hell are you doing?" Jason asked, hands fisting as he tried to rise only to fall back to the ground when his legs refused to hold his weight.

"Saving your life. The dead aren't supposed to come back. There's always a price to pay, a balance that is struck. Currently, as you are, if I don't get enough ectoplasm in you to form your core, you'll fade and turn into a brain-dead husk." Danny told Jason, tone stern and no nonsense as he grabbed him. Jason made an effort to break free, but it was weak, and even at full strength, he wouldn’t have been able to break Danny's hold. Few in this realm could.

If they had the time, Danny would've approached this situation in a far different manner, but this close he could hear Jason's heartbeat, a weak flutter in his chest, skipping beats as it tried to fuel a body that was past saving. Jason didn't have the time for Danny to approach this gently and kindly, to coax trust out of the teen like he would a feral cat.

Jason had minutes left before his ectoplasm starved body consumed itself trying to make a core and failed because while wherever they were had more ambient ectoplasm than most places, it was far from enough to sustain the birth of a halfa. Maybe if Jason had stayed dead for another year, he'd have naturally formed a core and risen as a proper ghost. But that wasn't what happened, somehow he'd gathered enough to fix his body of whatever wounds or illness had put him in that coffin to begin with and come back to 'life' but without a core to sustain his body he'd be dead, again, in minutes. And Danny was not about to watch while a teenager, another teenager, died.

"How do I know I can trust you?" Jason hissed as Danny pushed his arms down and laid his clawed hands on Jason's chest.

"You don't. But you don't have another choice." Danny said with a shrug. "Now are you going to let me save your life or not?" Danny asked, not moving his hands. He'd save Jason either way but this would be easier if Jason worked with him.

"Fine." Jason spat and Danny smirked as his hands began to glow a toxic green that matched his eyes.

Ectoplasm pooled out of his hands and rushed into Jason, filling him until the boy glowed bright enough to rival the neon lights of the city around them. The green light flared around him like an aura, slowly shrinking but getting impossibly brighter as the glow centralized around his chest until a small glowing ball of green, like a trapped star, blazed from his chest.

Jason gasped, back arching as Danny pulled his hands away and the light vanished under Jason's skin. For a moment Jason's blue eyes burned green and his hair flashed snow white before returning to black, with one single lock of unearthly white left above his forehead. Jason collapsed back against his grave, chest heaving. Danny watched, eyes full of a sad understanding.

"What the fuck was that?" Jason panted out.

"Welcome to the world of the half alive, half dead." Danny said with a smile. "Want to get a burger and talk about it?" He asked, standing up and dusting off his hands.

"Make it a chili dog and you've got a deal."

~~~~~

Fixed some typos added some lines

Maybe I'll continue this AU. Maybe not. This scene was in my head for days and I wanted to share

#dc x dp #Clockwork:And the new Fright Knight is born #Danny said im going to adopt kids from cemetaries now its my thing #Clockwork thought Danny needed more friends so he located the teenager closest to Dannys age and most compatible to being a halfa #Dani: Does this make him my brother or an uncle or what?#Bruce isnt getting this one back #not for awhile anyways #Danny has to teach Jason the ways of the halfa #He gets Jason ghost guns and Jason is very content with that #also with all the fighting he gets to do because thats like how ghosts say hello #Jason also takes one look at Fright Knight's sword and says: I want that gimme #Fright Knight and Skulker take to Jason very quickly and enjoy training him #Jason and Skulker shootouts range half the ghost zone and Danny is just amused #Eventually Jason asks Danny if he wants to help him prank his family and Danny is 100% on board #the red hood arrives back in Gotham with 100% less heads in a dufflebag but 1000% more chaos #Jason and Danny legit haunt the mannor for a few months and convince everyone BUT Alfred theyre conventional ghosts #Danny also adopts Tim during this time because Bruce obviously cant take care of this neglected child and Danny said bet this is mine now #danny phantom #jason todd #batfam #dp x dc #danny phantom au #phantom au #danny phantom fic #The King and his Red Knight #The King and his Red Knight AU #TKAHRK AU #Red Knight AU

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fillinforlater · 4 months

Note

Hii! Could you do a smut of Minnie x Yuqi x Miyeon please? I don't really have any specific things I want in it other than scissoring and all of them just all over each other lol

Sorry im in a mood-🤪

To Glide

Minnie x Yuqi x Miyeon

Length: 2.000 words

Tags: lesbian sex, lesbian threesome, LOT'S OF LUBE, annoyed sex, fingering, clit play, scissoring, lesbian missionary, fold in half (Yuqi), pretty and submissive (Miyeon), has had fucking enough (Minnie)

(A/N: Here is a random drop to start of the new year lol. This is what happens when you send the right ideas to me. Have fun and stay healthy!)

“This is such a not-good-idea.”

Minnie sighs and pinches her forehead. To say that she has doubts about this new ‘project’ of Yuqi would be an understatement. She hates that this obnoxiously loud girl always pushes onward with her ideas without ever thinking of the consequences. Like last week, when she threw this party at Miyeon’s house—Minnie expected a handful of people—and suddenly hundreds of people turned up and trashed the whole thing. For some reason, Miyeon didn’t even care all that much.

Guess Yuqi’s tongue kept her busy all night, Minnie thinks, an envious blush on her cheeks. That’s the curse of Yuqi, she might at times be a bad friend, but in the end, she is just irresistible. In the end, Minnie can only blame herself for not rejecting Yuqi’s plans of filling a small pool with lube—in the middle of Minnie’s own living room.

Your house is the biggest, Yuqi argued, and with a few adorable blinks, she got what she wanted. And now Miyeon is already ready to dump in over ten bottles of lube into the small plastic construction, definitely not made to withstand whatever crazy games Yuqi will come up with. Minnie can still say no, still send them home, hell, they can have enough fun with each other in Yuqi’s—

“Aw, why not, Nicha?” Yuqi complains cutely and wraps a sly arm around Minnie’s waist. “It will be so much fun, don’t you think? I can’t see how it can go wrong.”

“It’ll be such a mess,” Minnie argues, but it’s fragile, because Yuqi’s magic goes beyond puppy eyes and that deadly voice: she is already fiddling with the buttons of Minnie’s jeans, easily able to pop them open and dig her hand onto Minnie’s sex. The thought alone arouses her. “I-I don’t want to clean up afterwards.”

“Then I will clean up, okay? Pinky promise?”

“O-okay.” Dammit, she couldn’t resist again. Minnie is just too weak for Yuqi.

“Perfect. Miyeon, pour in the lube! Let’s have some fun.”

“Okay, babe~” Miyeon shouts back and gleefully squeezes out bottle after bottle until the clear liquid has thoroughly covered the entire plastic surface. “Should we get our bikinis?”

“Nah, screw those. Bikinis are for public pools.” Yuqi starts to unzip her top and jumps out of her pants. “At home, with my girls, I don’t want to wear clothes!”

“Oh~” Miyeon coos and Minnie can see that horny glint in her eyes. “I love that! Let me get undressed too.”

Minnie looks at them for a second, their bodies being revealed piece by piece, bare and completely spotless. Yuqi is a perfectionist when it comes to her own nude body, but at the same time, she does not give a single fuck about other people’s short comings. She just loves nudity, and so Minnie isn’t the only one starring when Miyeon gracefully removes her tight crop-top and moves her hips in quick circles until her black shorts fall down.

“I see you came prepared,” Yuqi says in excitement, because of the lack of underwear on Miyeon’s stunning frame.

“I still have the bikini in my bag, but—

“I kinda knew you wouldn’t want to see it.”

A heat is rising up inside Minnie. No anger or annoyance can keep it down anymore; the arousal is too great, irresistible, like the sight of Miyeon and Yuqi flopping into the pool. The lube flies everywhere, most importantly on their legs, their chests, their hair, their bellies, their feet—Minnie does not notice the mess being made.

She is depraved and horny, the way she tears off her jeans and top is chaotic, unplanned. Minnie has become a mess by just looking at her friends. Luckily, Yuqi does not notice. She's too busy with Miyeon and getting her fingers all over the elder’s skin. That is until Minnie bursts in and disrupts them, putting real strain on the edges of the plastic pool.

“Hey, watch out,” both Yuqi and Miyeon laugh. “You’re about to break it.”

“I- I don’t care! You two are being too loud, I need to shut you up a bit.” Minnie’s rebuttal is weak, because Yuqi gets a hand on her hairy cunt and starts to rub all over it.

“Oh, you want to shut us up by destroying this pool? Makes sense, makes sense.” Miyeon giggles and adds. “I think our friend here is tripping a bit. Tell us, Mi~nnie~

“How do you want to make us shut up?”

Minnie has never felt this ferocious, it’s like the spirit of a savage, unchained animal has overcome her. She wraps her entire arm around Yuqi’s tiny waist and spins her around. The small woman is still laughing, but with two lube-drenched fingers straight into her tight cunt, she is now Minnie’s prisoner. A happy prisoner, who quietly moans and hums with every curl the digits in her pussy make.

“Oh my~” Miyeon gasps and intently watches on as Minnie squeezes Yuqi tightly and makes sure to never stop pumping into that wet cavern. Yuqi still thinks this is all fun and games and tries to kiss Minnie, but the Thai girl goes straight for Yuqi’s neck and marks it with a frantic bite.

“Mi-Minnie, what the—I never knew you liked—”

“How about you shut your pretty mouth up and get on all fours?

“Now.”

Yuqi twitches around Minnie’s fingers when she hears this command. After a bit of slipping and falling she finds herself in the suggested position with Minnie’s hand cupping her labia and slowly rubbing lube across it. Yuqi arches her back, eyes closed to intensely feel every touch on her folds, then inside her pussy when Minnie decides to penetrate her once more. Miyeon gasps again.

“How about you lay down too, pretty?” Minnies suggest to Miyeon who needs a few seconds to wake up from her slumber and lay down into the slippery mess. She instinctively opens up her beautiful legs when Minnie’s hand approaches her, then the girliest of moans leaves her lips when her cunt gets filled.

Minnie’s heart is pumping up to her head, knocking on her brain and she loses all her senses except for touch on her fingertips, which become drenched in arousal. Every thrust, it doesn’t matter if they are hard or soft, makes her greedy, as if this scenario wasn’t enough. She has everything a girl could ever want, but now she needs more.

Minnie needs Yuqi to ruin herself—which happens sooner than she could’ve ever dreamed of. Yuqi’s ass moves on its own, her hips slam backwards and swallow every inch of Minnie’s flicking fingers and when three of them finally pierce her pussy open, she cums. Face buried in ridiculous amounts of lube, Yuqi groans and trembles and falls over, eyes rolled into the back of her head—that’s what Minnie wanted. But her greed doesn’t stop.

She looks at Miyeon, her pout, her need for release in this slippery mess right in the middle of this living room—Yuqi will have to clean it meticulously afterwards, because Minnie plants her puffy pussy right on Miyeon’s and starts to wildly rub it over her. Minnie knows that Miyeon is quite familiar with scissoring, this is definitely no first for her, but she nonetheless reacts to it like a virgin. She desperately holds onto Minnie’s hip and through a voice broken by moans begs her to go slower.

“Should I really go slower?” Minnie teases when Miyeon starts to grab her waist and bite her lip. Her face is so eerily perfect with all the wet lube and sweat on it, the blush that isn’t faint but blunt and bright. “Don’t you want to cum with your pussy, pretty princess?”

And then Minnie just continues, her hips slam down, against those aroused folds. She also makes use of her hands, spreading lube all over Miyeon’s boobs, midriff, down to the hard nub that looks like it’s about to explode if just—

Someone would—

“Not there, not there, Mi-Minnie, I’m about to—”

Minnie plays with it, rubs the clit side to side and Miyeon bursts into a loud and wet orgasm that has the pool suddenly filled with lube and girl juice. Minnie still doesn’t stop, instead she squeezes out every last second of Miyeon’s high by squeezing her breasts and squeezing more lube over her feet, which Yuqi is already eagerly playing with, in trance at the taste of Miyeon’s soles.

“Gosh, she looks so hot,” Yuqi whispers at the sight of Miyeon, who cannot escape the overstimulation. There is just no grip on anything, it’s like the entire universe wants her to glide back to Minnie and her pervy hands. Hands that can’t stop groping her, covering her in so much lube, she feels too heavy to fight back.

“You’re one to talke,” Minnie responds and raises an eyebrow when Yuqi dares to look back at her. “She went down fairly easily, but I know I need more with you.”

Yuqi smirks and like the angelic devil on Minnie’s shoulder leans in and hums:

“Then give me more.”

It’s hard to tell if Yuqi regrets her witty remark or if this was the actual reaction she wanted. In the blink of an eye, she finds herself below Minnie, in the deepest mix of cum, sweat and lube she has ever been in. Minnie immediately goes for her limits, grabbing her ankles and folding her in half while looking absolutely unamused.

“I know you can fold like a lawn chair,” she snarks and Yuqi gasps when her heels are almost level with her eyes. “So you better keep this up, because I won’t stop.”

“Wha-what are you trying—?”

“You’ve never had it like this, huh?”

Minnie crashes her hairy cunt right on Yuqi’s perfect slit. The slap is loud, the sting is painful at first, but Yuqi gets no time to scream because Minnie just continues. She rides her fat lips all over Yuqi’s shaven crotch, spreads her arousal to add more wetness, to glide better.

Glide she does. Yuqi has to take deep breaths that quickly turn to moans every time Minnie glides over her clit. Back and forth is great, left and right is excellent, Yuqi’s mind starts to spin in the same rhythm that Minnie’s pussy spins. That is until she goes up and back down. That’s too much to handle. Yuqi’s nails dig into Minnie’s elbows and she can see the Thai girl only through tear filled orbs.

Hottest of all: Minnie shows no reaction to this athletic feat. She just leans down, lips right on Yuqi’s, but instead of kissing her, she spouts dumb, dirty bullshit that has Yuqi in an ultimate frenzy.

“You never had a girl take you missionary. I fucking know, because I always hear them moan, not you. You think you’re such a player, Yuqi, the girl that gets all the bitches—that’s over now. Now you’re my bitch and I will fuck you like it. You will cum on this hairy pussy and then I’ll make you clean it up.

“Do you understand?”

“Y-yesh, Ma’am!”

Yuqi whines, Minnie smirks.

“Good. That was easy, didn’t know you could be so submissive. I think you should get an orgasm, slut.”

As predicted, the final thrust starts of Yuqi’s climax, one that lasts for a while. While not as messy as Miyeon’s, Minnie can see how intense it was for the smaller woman below her. Yuqi is a fucked mess, messy hair, messy pussy, messy face, something that can surely be a seat in the future—nah, fuck the future. Yuqi won’t always be her bitch, might as well—

“I think you’re learning your place.” Minnie gives Yuqi some time to adjust her posture, time Minnie spends on a quick look at Miyeon, who is busy stimulating her nipples to the sight of what happened in front of her. Minnie has no clue how and if to include her; an issue for later. “Now eat me.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #idol x idol smut #gidle smut #minnie smut #yuqi smut #miyeon smut

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thehighladywrites · 5 months

Text

— “it’ll be our little secret, professor”

☀︎ - pairing: eris vanserra x reader

☀︎ - summary: you hook up with this delicious older man for one fun night to forget your scummy ex, what do you do when the same man turns out to be your new professor?

☀︎ - warnings: smut, oral (m.receiving), hint of degradation, taboo relationships, student x professor, both are obviously old enough, i just want him so bad GOD

☀︎ - amara’s note: this is going to be a series where i’ll post text threads with prof eris, headcanons, just different things. I’m planning this series to be about 10 chapters, but I literally have no structure, I just write. also i hope you like this as much as I do. and if you see any mistakes, no you don’t

In the corner of the club, everything felt a bit fuzzy. The air was thick with a mix of excitement and different scents. Dim lights created a soft atmosphere, and the distant sounds of the crowd and music blended together. It was like time slowed down, and you were in your own world, just soaking in the low-key vibe of the club corner.

The earlier shots hit you, and now you're in a blissful, relaxed state. All you could focus on were the hands exploring your body, lips locking with yours, and captivating scent surrounding you.

In the heat of the night, you ended up kissing a stranger without a second thought. The risk of being alone with someone unfamiliar did register – you just didn't care. Discovering your boyfriend's cheating after a difficult three-year relationship, marked by numerous breakups and makeups, left you feeling free from a toxic situation.

Now, free from those shackles, you embraced the chance to breathe and have some carefree fun. You had gone out with your friends, planning to originally get black out drunk but you suppose there’s better ways to cope.

Coming up with the idea of harmless fun, you and Elain came up with new identities for everyone to play out. Providing a random name, you spun a fat lie of being an up-and-coming writer, in the middle of writing your latest novel. Falsely claiming to be older, you described a beautiful house situated on the outskirts of Prythian that you owned. It was all part of a lighthearted game, with no harm intended since you believed you'd never cross paths with the guy again. It was ridiculously easy to bag the man since he didn’t tell you anything about himself, only nodding when you talked about yourself.

The attractive stranger had dark copper hair, captivating amber eyes, and stood several inches taller than you. His eyes glistened in mirth mixed with hunger. His muscular build caught your attention, and you found yourself grabbing onto his strong arms.

If his looks didn't captivate you, his mouth certainly did. His wicked tongue unleashed clever comebacks and tantalizing dirty talk that sent shivers down your spine.

The best part? He was older, more mature, more confident and much more good-looking – just so much more than your ex. Comparisons might be wrong, but if you had to choose, the man in front of you was a no-brainer.

Because he wasn't some guy; he was a man who acted like a man, who spoke like a man and touched you like a real fucking man.

The man had been touching and kissing you for what felt like an eternity. You greedily wanted more from him. You didn't want to regret not taking the chance, and almost as if he could sense it, he invited you back to his place.

You nodded, excusing yourself to let your friends know about leaving. Approaching them, you shared your decision to go with him, and Gwyn, Nesta, Em and Elain cheered you on. However, Feyre, always the protective friend, expressed her concern.

“Go get some, but I swear I’ll hunt him down if anything happens, got it? And have your location on.”

Her words, while somewhat playful, held a genuine undertone of worry.

You nodded and promised her you’d be safe before hurriedly made your way outside to the handsome man.

“Still want to come with me, sweet thing?” he asked curiously, making sure it was still something you wanted.

“Mm, yeah, still wanna go. Unless you've changed your mind?” Stepping forward, you grabbed the man's tie, pulling it gently as you looked up at him with half-lidded eyes. A playful glint clouded your gaze as you cocked your head to the side, oozing confidence.

He smirked down at you with a wicked glint, clearly showing his mind was nowhere near changed. The man stepped forward, rubbing his clothed cock against your dress, making you feel his hard on through his pants

“Does it feel like I’ve changed my mind?”

The chemistry you had was unmatched, he was so clever and witty and you wanted to know more about him as he led you to his car, a sleek, black one, indicating money.

You’d blame your forwardness on the alcohol tomorrow when you remembered how you just blurted out the question.

“Hey, you rich or something?” you giggled.

The man opened up the backseat door for you and through the side of his eye gave you an amused smirk.

“Or something.” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, grinning, as you hopped into the backseat, enjoying the warmth of his hands securing your seatbelt and closing the door.

But hold on, the backseat?

Weren't you supposed to sit upfront with him? Before you could ask, he opened the other backseat door and slid in beside you.

Maintaining eye contact, he grinned at your confusion and said, “Alden, please take us home.” A faint "yes sir" was heard, and the car started moving. Shocked, you realized he had a driver – clearly, he was quite wealthy.

You scanned the spacious car, realizing there was more than enough room for the fun activities on your mind. With a screen separating you from the driver, you unbuckled your seatbelt and moved closer, straddling his lap.

His hands instinctively found your hips, guiding your movements over him. Lips on your neck, he left dark marks as your hands ventured lower, reaching his cock, which elicited a groan from him. Your eyes widened as you felt the size of him. The man simply flashed you a subtle smile and raised his eyebrows.

You unbuckled his belt, maintaining eye contact as you carefully watched his face show pleasure as you put your hand down his pants and stroked him. You gave him a few lazy strokes, eventually shuffling off his lap and kneeling infront of him, ready to put your mouth to use.

Time became irrelevant and all that was heard were the sinful, obscene noises mixed with his hisses of pleasure as you sloppily bobbed your head up and down, swirling your tounge around the head, running your finger over the slit.

“Fuck yeah, that’s it. Could use this slutty little mouth forever.” he rasped, hips bucking as his hands went to your hair, slightly pulling on it as you let out a muffled whimper.

Pre cum and spit dripped down your chin, slowly making it’s way to your chest and floor as you pushed your head down further and further, feeling satisfied at his sounds of pleasure.

Once, twice, you grip on the shaft and slap the tip on your tongue before sucking on the sensitive head.

With a quick twitch of his cock, he cums, experiencing euphoria in his buzzed state. He gasps and moans pitifully as his lips twitch between his teeth and his hips buck into your mouth against his better judgement. You pump your hand at the base of his cock where you are unable to fit, swallowing as much of the hot, sticky ropes that coat your mouth as you can. As he pours into you, the walls of your pussy clench around nothing, so badly wishing your were sitting on the cock that was currently on your tongue.

His cum was everywhere - your hair, your face, your tits. He slumped against the seat and moved his eyes down back to you, catching you licking of the sticky residue of your fingers.

Before either of you have a chance to say something, the car slows down to a halt signaling that you’re probably at his place. He tucks himself into his pants and doesn’t buckle them before he opens the door and grabs you, throwing you over his shoulder as you laugh. Your mind forgets about the fact that you’re covered in his cum and just blanks when you take a look at his so called house, a mansion or a fucking estate is more like it.

The lengthy driveway opened up to a stunning front yard adorned with red and orange-leaved trees, an unusual scene for the end of summer. A well-lit, ornate fountain with three tiers stood proudly infront of the house, enhancing the beauty of the surroundings. The massive Victorian mansion, with its beautiful windows and overgrown vines stunned you.

He set you down and held your hand as he led you into his room, and it overmet your expectations. Instead of a dark, edgy space, it was spacious with earthy tones and bathed in soft ambient lighting. The room exuded comfort, making you wish to stay longer. His bed, adorned with a large fluffy comforter and a million pillows, looked inviting.

Various trinkets and figurines adorned the room, but what captured your attention was a massive bookcase showcasing your favorite books. Intrigued, you dropped his hand and made your way over. Your eyes widened at seeing a book from your wishlist, yet to be released. Confused, you asked how he had it, and he explained that Sellyn Drake was an old family friend and had gifted it to him.

You decided to tease him about the book, saying, “You know, I've heard great many things about this book. How about you tell me what it's about? I heard it had some... exciting scenes.”

His eyes met yours, and with a subtle smile, he stepped closer and closer, “How about I show you instead?” The air seemed to thicken with a hint of tension, leaving you curious and captivated by the possibilities that lingered in his suggestion.

——

Your legs trembled as you hastily stood up, determined to make your exit. Having been fucked stupid all night, dawn was approaching, and the new semester was starting tomorrow, leaving you with a load of preparations. You located your dress, bag, and heels, putting the clothes on carefully. Quietly, you ordered a cab to avoid startling the man still asleep. Before leaving, your eyes lingered on his bookshelf. Tiptoeing closer, you took the book you'd eyed the night before and read the teaser on the back. Glancing between him and the book, grabbed it, and silently left his room and house.

——

Feyre, Elain, Nesta, Gwyn and Em, your friends and roomates, practically pulled you across campus to grab your schedule and check out the new students filling the cafeteria. The buzz of excited chatter and the aroma of coffee and sweet pastries filled the air as you scanned the room. After a few moments, you parted ways, each heading to your respective classrooms, the anticipation of a new semester buzzing in the atmosphere.

You wandered through the literature building, searching for classroom LE4, the place where Advanced Literature with Professor Beron awaited. Memories of your first year with him being an absolute ass lingered, so you hoped he'd calmed down over the summer, giving everyone a fucking break.

You finally entered the huge lecture hall and climbed the stairs, opting for a seat at the back, hoping to fly under the radar in case Professor Beron was in a bad mood.

A few rows down, you spotted your ex, Ilias, with a new girl on his lap. His sleazy smile and wandering hands were more icky than anything ever. Reflecting on why you ever went back to him so many times, you turned around, focused on bringing out your notebook and computer from your bag. As the doors opened, the click-clack of quality shoes echoed through the hall, accompanied by girly giggles and voices creating a murmur in the background.

A jolt of surprise froze you, and your heart seemed to pause for a moment as his voice unexpectedly filled the room. All your previous movement ceased, and a sudden hush fell over the surroundings, creating an atmosphere charged with unexpected tension. The shock of hearing someone you hoped thought to see again made time momentarily stand still.

“Hello. I'm Professor Eris, and I'll be taking over this class. My father used to teach it but has passed away, so I'll be filling his shoes. I anticipate a productive year together. If you doubt your ability to keep up with the rapid pace of this advanced class, I suggest you leave now and spare yourself, as well as me, the trouble.”

Panicking, your eyes scanned the room for any possible escape route. There was just no fucking way you could be in this class when your professor had fucked you against his bookshelf, or when you had his dick shoved down your throat. Sinking in your seat, you desperately opened your computer, using it as a shield, praying he wouldn't notice you. The need to escape intensified, but the fear of drawing attention kept you frozen in your seat.

As dread crept in, he pulled out an attendance list. The sinking feeling deepened as he insisted everyone state why they chose the course. Hiding behind your computer, you debated revealing your presence or attempting to stay under the radar.

"Ilias Smith?"

"Emma Wilson?"

"Jess Lennox?"

"Amanda Gomez?"

Each one confidently declared "here" and delved into passionate remarks about Hemingway, Austen, Kerouac, all the authors that made them choose this course or whatever. Your hands started sweating as Professor Eris called your name. When you hesitated, he repeated it louder, his gaze scanning until it locked onto you.

Anticipating an intense reaction, all you saw was a slight narrowing of his eyes.

“Well? Are you here, Y/N L/N?”

You mumbled a faint "yeah," and when he asked why you were there, your words fumbled, “Uh, I suppose because I like books. A huge fan. Yes.”

Your classmates chuckled at your less-than-impressive answers, and you sunk back into your chair, just observing for the rest of the lecture. A few rows ahead, a group of girls giggled, thinking they were discreet as they whispered about Professor Eris. Their discussions about their fantasies sparked a tiny irritation within you.

Like who the hell gossips about someone, so crudely in broad daylight and during a lecture, especially when it's about a professor? It wasn't jealousy, no, no definitely not.

You just found it… super unsettling.

——

After two suffocating hours, you hastily packed your bag, eager to escape. But just as you were about to disappear, your name echoed in the room.

“Miss L/N, do you mind staying behind? There seems to be a problem with your email,” Professor Eris announced, leaning against his desk with his massive arms crossed. He bid the remaining students goodbye and waited until they all left before locking the doors.

The moment those doors clicked shut, the atmosphere in the room shifted dramatically. The tension became so thick you could practically cut it with a knife.

He turned back around and approached you, merely a few inches away, face a mix of amusement and curiosity.

“Hello there, little liar. I certainly didn’t expect to see you here.”

Your cheeks heated and nervousness filled you at the memory of the depraved moments you'd shared, causing your gaze to involuntarily drop to his chest and wander downward, reliving those sensations.

However any nervousness vanished as you remembered that he was the one who came to your university. If anyone should’ve been surprised it should’ve been you. A mischievous smile played on your lips as you toyed with the idea of making his year more challenging. Testing how good of a man he really was became a tempting game.

After all, a man like him wouldn't indulge a student, right?

This could turn into a fun little project to spice up an otherwise dull year.

Lifting your chin up, you looked him square in the eyes as your lips twitched in anticipation.

“I could say the same, Professor Eris. You definitely don’t seem like the lecturer type.”

His eyes narrowed at you, jaw clenching as his intense gaze bore into yours. The intensity made you shift a little, almost causing you to lose some of your confidence.

“Do you think you're funny? I believe you understand the situation here. You lied and now you're here of all places. As my student. Well, this is an unexpected twist. One of us will have to quit and report this,” he stated, injecting a hint of playfulness into his serious tone.

Wait, quit? No, you really didn't want him to leave. This could turn into such a nice little distraction, and there was no way you were losing it now. The thought of him leaving added a layer of urgency to the situation, making you quickly reassess the potential consequences.

“Come on, professor. It doesn't have to be like this. I won't tell anyone. And who says we have to stay away from each other? I mean, what the dean doesn't know won't hurt him, right?” you suggested, a sly smile playing on your lips as you flirted with the idea of bending the rules.

Eris looked you up and down before throwing his head back and letting out a hearty laugh. Your brows furrowed as you twisted your lips, wondering if he was laughing at you. Was he not taking you seriously? Despite the uncertainty, the desire to keep playing this game with him intensified.

Eris seemed to notice your mood turning sour and promptly clamped his lips shut.

“I promise, sweet thing, I'm not laughing at you. I’m just amazed at your boldness.” he assured you with a more serious tone, attempting to dispel any misunderstanding.

“Promise?”

He stepped forward, “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

You both knew that under no circumstances should you be doing this. If anyone caught you, there would be hell to pay. Expulsion and blacklisting from any other Ivy League universities for you, and definitely prison or some sort of pesky law thingy for him.

Yet the mere thought of engaging in something so wrong and secretive made your stomach flip, a mix of thrill and anxiety churning within you.

Looking up through your lashes, you blushed, a deep crimson hue spreading across your cheeks as you once again grabbed his tie and pulled him closer.

“I promise I won't tell anyone, professor. It'll be our little secret,”you whispered, the words laden with a taboo excitement that sent a shiver down your spine.

A wicked gleam flashed in Eris's eyes, and a subtle smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Well then, miss L/N,”he whispered, his voice low and conspiratorial. “Let's see just how well we can keep our little secret.”

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