#they’re in a closet and the closet is glass

[quietblueriver]

fingers crossed for your writing! prompt for you: mask

Hi!! Thank you so much for the prompt and the crossed fingers. Very happy to be writing Avatrice again. Here’s a short, soft thing and a play on both mask and masc that’s hopefully not too far off the mark. 💜💜💜

Ava leans against the doorway and watches as Beatrice stares at a black t-shirt that she assumes came from the basket of clean clothes beside the bed, lips pulled down at the corners, a few locks of newly shorn hair falling over her forehead with the angle. Ava wants to tuck it back, run her own thumbs over the buzzed sides in that way that makes Beatrice close her eyes and breathe a little deeper.

“Hey,” she says more quietly than she normally would, smiling gently as Bea’s attention snaps to her, body visibly tightening in the moment it takes for her to assess Ava’s threat level. Once a soldier and all that.

“Sorry to surprise you.” She sticks out a socked foot and wiggles it, thick pink and purple stripes on display. “Got a comfy assist with my stealth game. Camila was not joking with this yarn.”

The tension leaves Bea’s body as she lifts her left leg from where it hangs over the side of the bed to wiggle back with her own pair, a more muted blue and gray sticking out from the bottom of gray sweatpants. She doesn’t say anything, but she puts the shirt down and shifts on the bed, tucking socked feet criss-cross underneath her knees and creating a space that Ava fills happily, crossing her own legs so that their thighs are pressed together.

“You good?”

“Yes,” Beatrice offers quickly before she catches herself, shrugging a shoulder at Ava with a small smile. “Mostly,” she amends, and Ava indulges her earlier impulse and presses Bea’s hair back from her forehead before running her thumb over the clipped hair just above her ear. As she’d hoped, she gets fluttering eyes and a content sigh.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Brown eyes blink open and she runs a hand through her hair before turning her head to face the mirror that hangs from their closet door. Ava’s eyes follow, and they meet in the glass, Ava leaning over to rest her chin on Bea’s shoulder.

“‘Sup, handsome?” Her breath tickles Bea’s cheek and she rolls her eyes even as she smiles that smile she saves for Ava, a little bit of pink in her cheeks.

Her eyes drift and Ava presses a kiss to her cheek before settling back and giving her some space.

“I look like my uncle.”

Ava stops fiddling with their duvet, brings her eyes slowly back to Beatrice in the mirror. She’s waiting for her, lips turned up just slightly and eyes soft, and she dips her head a little to let Ava know it’s okay to keep looking, to keep checking.

And she does, eyes tracking the movement of Bea’s chest and the twitch of her toes where they’re pressed under her knee, a flash of soft blue wool.

“Jacob. His name was Jacob. He was…” The shift in her expression as she searches for the words she needs brings her lips to a pout, but her tone isn’t sad or angry when she finds what she’s looking for. “I wanted very badly to be like him, when I was small. He laughed a lot, and he was very smart but he didn’t…he didn’t use it to make me feel small. He was silly with me, in a very intentional way. Always sought me out and asked me questions and told me jokes that…well, you would have liked them.” Ava sticks her tongue out at her and Bea looks a little proud and a lot fond. “Exactly. I didn’t know what to do with that, but I liked it.” She pulls at the silver chain around her neck, the ghost of a prayer. “He died when I was eight. A car accident. I think…looking back on his funeral and the people who were there, I think maybe he was…like me.” Her jaw clenches, determined, and Ava loves her as she says, voice firm, “Gay. I think he was gay.”

Ava moves a hand to the small of Bea’s back, and Bea puts a hand on her knee, skin warm through the fabric of Ava’s leggings.

“It…as far as I know it was a surprise to my father. Uncle Jacob always brought dates to the big Christmas party and to all of the family events, beautiful women that were funny like he was and talked to me like they cared what I had to say but also like I was still a child, like I was only expected to be a child. One of them snuck me extra cake when my mother wasn’t looking, but when she winked at me, suddenly I couldn’t eat anything else.”

She’s blushing a little, and Ava presses her lips to the cotton covering her shoulder, smiling into it.

“Uh-huh.”

The blush deepens, and Ava smothers the rest of her grin against Bea, grasping and squeezing at her forearm to encourage her to keep talking.

She does, smile dimming a little as she says, “They were there at the service, those women, but so were a lot of other people I’d never seen before, all in a big group together.” Her fingers move against the fabric of her sweats, tug at her black tee, the twin to the one discarded a few minutes ago. “They were in the back of the line to greet us, at the wake, and my father was so…” Fingers run with agitation through already mussed hair. “He was so rude to them, Ava. Gritting his teeth and saying nothing when they offered condolences and shaking hands hard enough that he made people wince. I went to the bathroom and heard two of them talking about how it wasn’t any wonder ‘Jay’ lived like he did. I’d never heard anyone call him Jay before, and I didn’t know what they meant, but I knew better than to ask my parents.”

She swallows and Ava covers the hand on her knee with her own, quiet because she’s not sure if Bea is finished and she is trying her very best these days to give Bea the same space that Bea gives her to say what she wants to say. Even if it makes Ava squirm with the desire to comfort, to fill the silence.

“We left the wake as soon as we could without it being socially unacceptable to the people my parents cared about. My father was so angry on the ride home that my mom was afraid to talk to him, and…” The shaky breath makes Ava so fiercely protective that the halo starts humming under her skin. “After he pulled me into the car, I made myself as small as I could. He went into his study and slammed the door when we got home. They never talked about Uncle Jacob again. It was like he died twice.”

“Bea.” Her hand moves to rest between shoulder blades, presses in in comfort. “I’m so sorry.”

Beatrice smiles at her in the mirror before breaking their connection to turn and kiss her. The angle is a little awkward, their bodies having twisted over the course of the conversation, so she moves to fix it, adjusting so her knees are pressed to Bea’s thigh and making her hands at home on the sides of her neck. When Beatrice pulls back, she backs herself against the headboard and lifts an arm, and Ava’s chest is tight with affection as she moves into the space and settles, hand gripping the front of Bea’s shirt a little possessively. They’ve had this now for months, this bed and this apartment and this time together without world-ending bullshit, but she’s still not used to the luxury of it, of open, unapologetic affection, of Bea’s heartbeat steady under her ear, of time stretching out instead of bearing down.

“It surprised me, when I looked into the mirror and saw him.” Her voice is quieter like this, and Ava feels her words as she says them, cheek pressed against her chest. “In a good way.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” Fingers run through her hair and Ava lets her eyes close. “I wish I could have known him. I wish he could have known me.”

Ava nods against her. “Me too. He sounds way better than the rest of your family, not that that’s a high bar.” The words slip out thoughtlessly but she doesn’t want to retract them. They’re past pretending Ava wouldn’t halo blast Bea’s parents into the nearest body of water on sight and mostly past Bea feeling guilty for wanting her to. “I’m sorry you didn’t have him for longer.”

“Mmm.” It’s a little absent. A beat. “I used to be a nun.”

Ava opens her eyes at that, pushes up a little to raise an eyebrow at Beatrice.

“Oh yeah? I didn’t know.”

Beatrice pokes her in the ribs and she giggles as she settles back down.

“Yes, thank you.” Her voice softens, quiets. “I understand him. Or I think I do. Why Uncle Jay lived the way that he did.”

Ava splays her hand across Bea’s ribs.

“You used to be a nun.”

“Yes.” Lips touch her hairline. “I am glad that I’m not anymore.”

Ava presses her own lips against the body underneath her. “Me too.” She traces a pattern on Bea’s ribs. “I think he would be proud of you. Of who you are. Of how brave you are.”

Her body moves with Beatrice’s exhale. “I think he would have liked you.”

Ava pulls her chin up to rest against Bea’s sternum and grins her best roguish grin. “Well, I’m very charming.”

Her stomach swoops at the look Bea gives her, adoration undisguised and voice earnest. “Yes. You are. You’re wonderful.”

The kiss is short but sure, leaving Ava a little breathless. Affection thrums in her veins, and she pulls and pushes at Bea’s body until they’re reversed, Bea’s head pillowed on her chest and Ava’s fingers running through short hair, scratching at the nape of her neck. She runs her fingers under the silver chain and turns her head to watch their reflection. Bea’s eyes are closed, her breath slowing, and Ava takes the opportunity to look at her, sees for a moment Sister Beatrice as she was when Ava met her, ashamed and hiding so much of herself, desperately trying to be what everyone wanted and needed her to be.

Her heart breaks a little, for little Beatrice who became Sister Beatrice and for a man she never met. She blinks away the specters in the mirror and sees Bea again, soft and sleepy and brave, and presses a kiss of gratitude to her head.

[marssthings]

At first I was like oooo throuple… as a joke… but bro.. I don’t think it’s a joke anymore😟

[half-an-hour-hence]

I apologise for Malcolm’s face but JAMIE YOU’VE GOT TO STOP LOOKING AT HIM LIKE THAT.

[the-meme-monarch]

now how would a red horn headband end up in a supply closet.

kr/alsei shippers go away 👍

[flowershaveeyes]

isn’t he so bbg — from a painter named painter . . . # !

xxx

[mars-ipan]

dungeons and dragons is so fun bc right now i’m in 2 campaigns and i play them back-to-back on fridays.

in the first campaign i play this mangy little level 5 goblin spores druid named pellet. she is silly and i love her to death. also she will bite your ankles and it will fucking Hurt. the entire party she’s a part of is very well balanced and- despite their sometimes clashing personalities- they’re very competent in combat which leads to thrilling high-stakes battles

in the second campaign i play a level 4 half-elf goolock named cal. we’re all playing villains in a cyberpunk and we work for a villain organization. cal is NOT built for this whole high-stakes job thing, nor is the rest of his team. this party consists of a bunch of glass cannons and one glass nuclear bomb (our wizard). today’s session was the first time cal has been in combat and not passed out or been downed- we did not finish this encounter, though, so there’s still time for him to get bodied

[worstlovesong]

Of course Byul said “maybe even more than best friends” with her whole chest

[cynical-cemeteries]

@fes-vivy and i have come to the conclusion that aureole & fortuna are gay gay homosexual gay and they’re definitely in love with each other

THEY HAVE SO MANY VOICELINES ABOUT EACH OTHER??? they’ve been close friends since childhood,, they currently live together at fortuna’s place,, fortuna reads aureole’s fortune every morning,, aureole always thought fortuna was cool & admires her confidence…like HELLO???

[magdalenas]

setting up rosemary around the room and in the closet to repel the spiders

[shotmrmiller]

I'm your only situationship.

A/N : yall i stayed up til 324 am writing this. I felt like if i went to bed still only having it as a thought and not on 'paper' thats unacceptable. If i gotta think about this then so do yall! it was also supposed to be a small one shot but it got wildly out of hand im not sorry.

18+ MDNI

TW: typical smut, EXPLICIT mmkay im talkin clutch ur pearls explicit.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Simon had finally come home from a grueling 6-month mission. All he wanted was some Kentucky bourbon with you at your favorite seedy bar. 

Once he was home, Simon cleaned up, put on a black clinical mask, and sent a text to you to meet him there. As he finished his first glass of the night, a rather attractive young woman approached him, asking if she could buy him a drink. 

“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around, lovie?”

“Not at all. This is after all the 21st century. I’m simply asking— wouldn’t want any missus at home getting upset.”

“There’s no one at home for me, lass.”

“Well then, how about you get yourself another glass, my treat, and we’ll see where this night takes us?” 

He slightly nodded —he’d never say no to a free drink— and as she left to order a drink, he took his phone out to text you again.

“C’mon, pet. I’ll cover the tab. Too good f’me, now?”

His phone vibrated a minute later.

“I can’t today, Si.”

“Why not? I know you don’t go out on Sundays.”

As the young woman came back, drinks in hand, he lifted the screen to read your response.

“I’ve got a dick appointment~ It’s been a year and then some and I’m gonna claw at my walls if I don’t get a fix ASAP.”

Simon goes tense— soft blues hardening to a silver and he’s gripping his phone so hard it might crack. He pulls up your contact and calls you within seconds.

“Hiya, Si!” 

“What the fuck is a dick appointment?”

“Oh,” you giggle. “I forget you older folk don’t know ‘bout that. It’s just a one-night fling. No commitments or nothin'.’ Exactly what I need right now.” You don’t tell him that the reason you’ve practically regrown your hymen is that when you’re best friends with Simon, every other male in existence pales in comparison. 

“Anyway Si-, he’s getting here in like an hour-”

“No.” And hangs up. 

The young woman who’s casually rubbing his bicep and shoulder gets practically flung off of him, as he gets up off the bar stool so fast it’s falling back with a loud clang, and he’s yanking his leather jacket on and pulling on his leather gloves so hard they’re about to become fingerless—

“Hey! I thought you didn’t have a girlfriend?!”

One gloved hand gripping the front door, he turns his head slightly to her and says, “Pet, with how good I’m gonna fuck her, she won’t even have to ask to know she’s mine.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You’re standing in the bathroom with your liquid eyeliner in one hand and phone in the other, staring at the ended call screen. ‘Weird,’ you think, then shrug and put the phone down. ‘Maybe the call got dropped.’

You finally complete the look with your false lashes when there’s a very hard knock on your door. You frown as you look at your phone screen. ‘7:14 pm’. You know the guy said at 8 and you’re in one of Simon’s big shirts he always forgets and your hair is still tied up in an oversized pink and white polka dot scrunchie— The pink leopard print booty shorts you’ve got on will suffice. 

The second time there’s a knock it’s even louder. 

“Jesus Christ, I’m coming!” 

You open the door and say, “I’m sorry I took so long, I—”

Simon flies past you, with a rough shoulder bump and you turn to look at him and he’s almost sprinting to the bedroom, slamming the door open—

“Simon, what the fuck? What’re you doin—”

“Where is he?”, he snarls.

“Who?! Are you talking about my date? He’s not getting here til 8! And why’re you slamming doors in my apartment like you pay my rent?!”

You see Simon deflate immediately at the important part of your answer and chooses to ignore the rest as he takes off his jacket and walks to your hall closet to hang it. Closing your door and locking it, you growl out,

“You need to leave. I haven’t even finished getting ready. I promise I’ll—”

“No, pet.”

“Will you quit interrupting me! Simon, I swear—”

“Pet.” 

You’re holding a scream behind your teeth, about to rip the hair out of your scalp when you see Simon take one loop of his mask off from around his ear and then the other. You gape. You’ve seen Simon without his mask— that isn’t the reason you can no longer find your voice. It’s the way he put his gloved middle finger in between his teeth and pulled it off so sensually. You can feel your cheeks and ears radiate heat from just seeing the tip of his pink tongue. Christ, you’re down horrendously.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract yourself from the fact that you’re getting wet over an interaction so chaste when Simon is touching your ass, giving it a hard squeeze, before moving down to the back of your thighs and lifting you up. You startle at the movement and throw your arms around his neck out of habit, hoping he won’t drop you in the move to your bedroom.

He presses you against the wall with his hips, then grabs both of your ankles from behind his lower back and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. Simon noses your jaw and starts grinding his clothed erection deliciously hard over the definitely wet spot on your shorts and growls out, 

“If you think,” grind “that I’m gonna allow My,” grind “Girl,”  grind—and you whimper in his ear,  “get fucked by some little cock two pump chump,” he gives a forced chuckle, “you must be daft, pet. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, eh? Trying to get my attention? Well, you’ve got it now. “ 

He moves his face to hover his lips over yours— you can lightly smell the bourbon he drank earlier— and he whispers, “You ever like this and I’m around, you come to me. And if I’m away, you wait for me like a good girl and when I come back I’ll give this,” he taps your pussy over your shorts, “greedy little cunt all the cock it can take.”

With a shaky breath, you nod before he kisses you, his bourbon-flavored tongue curling against yours, and you’re moaning into it because you’ve wanted this for too long and he’s finally touching you. Curling your fingers into his ash-brown hair, you move your mouth to his neck, to the right of his adam’s apple, took a bit of skin between your teeth and sucked. 

Simon hisses, dips his fingertips into your flesh hard enough to bruise, and all but yanks you off the wall to toss you onto your bed. 

You yelp as you bounce from the force of his throw— you’re still bouncing on the bed when Simon grabs the waistband of your shorts and knickers to pull right off, which you’re grateful for because the grey knickers you got on aren’t what anyone would wear for a first, second nor third impression.

Simon grabs both of the back of your knees with one hand,  goddamn bear paws, you think, before you feel his tongue in between your lips— so warm and wet and fuck, you needed this, needed him— and he flicks his tongue up and down on your clit. He sticks his long middle finger into you and it goes in without resistance, you’re slippery, drooling over his wrist and finger that’s curled up into the rough patch of nerves against your gummy walls, that he’s pressing into, over and over. God you’re about to come, your legs shake in his one-handed hold and you’ve got a white knuckle grip on the forearm you’re sinking your nails into—

Simon pulls away. You were so close, your eyes start watering because he can’t possibly be this mean to you but then you see him shove his tongue in between his middle and ring finger, eating up your nectar when he says, “The first time I’m gonna make you come, it’ll be on my cock. I want to see the frothy white cream you're gonna leave at the base.” 

You’re nodding hysterically at this point, anything for him to make you come, anything for him.  With a twirl of his index, he’s telling you to get on all fours. Scrambling, you turn over and arch your back— resting your head on your forearms— and you feel his calloused palms run down from your spine to your ass cheeks before he gives it a spank. 

“You have a condom?” 

You shake your head and you mewl out, “No, but I’m clean.”

“Good. I don’t want anything between us.”

You arch your back further, pressing your ass further into his hips when you hear his belt buckle clank and zipper open. Simon brings his palm to your other cheek, reddening it. 

“Fuckin’ hell, pet. Look at you spread out for me.” 

You feel warm velvet over steel over your slit before he slowly pushes inside, not all the way but about a little over half of his length, remembering that your g-spot is a little closer to the front. Fast, relatively shallow thrusts hitting your spot with almost clinical precision have you reeling, your orgasm about to break you, mind and body. Hands tightening painfully, you shatter— loud, high-pitched whines, ringing in your ears and pussy pulsing around Simon’s thick girth— and god, Simon doesn’t stop thrusting. He keeps the same smooth rhythm and you’d think he’s unaffected by the tight vice your pussy has him in— but you hear him, low, deep groans and a tighter grip on your hips telling you otherwise. 

He pulls out to bend over your back, completely covering it, and he murmurs in your ear, “I hope you didn’t think we were done. My girl wanted a fuckin’, now she’s gonna get it.” 

He takes off your pink, silly scrunchy and you see it around his tattooed wrist before he grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and is leaning back up and forcing your back to arch under his pull. You feel his leg at the height of your hips— propped up, foot flat on the bed and knee bent and the other straight on the floor and all you can think of is how this man is gonna kill you with his cock. 

Simon snaps his hips forward, fist full of hair pulling back,  stretching and filling in one strong thrust, bottoming out. He gives you no reprieve, no time to get used to how fucking deep he is, and sets an intense, firm pace that has you feeling a pinch below the navel every time his hip bones slap against your ass, balls to the clit and you love it. Every pinch in your lower belly has your pussy making a squelching sound and you can’t help yourself— you reach underneath your body to feel how split open you are with two fingers, encasing his cock and feeling the skin drag with them as he pulls out.

That has him hissing air between his teeth, he’s about to come but doesn't want it to be over so he pulls out, and opens your cheeks to spit in your furled hole, before pressing in with the pad of his thumb, and you’re almost screaming. He moves back a bit further to spit in your pussy, not that you need it— you’re drenching the sheets underneath you— and now he’s spearing you with his tongue before curling it, getting your juices pooled on it before coming back up, lips smacking, and he grabs your hair in his ponytail and now he uses his other hand to curls his fingers and palm over the front of your throat and that's all it takes for your vision to darken and arms go limp but he’s again, fucking you through your orgasm and this time you leave a creamy white ring at the base of his length. 

“Oh, fuckin hell.” He groans out and it sounds desperate and you know he’s close.

“Come in me, Simon. Please fill me up, I promise I’ll keep it all in.”

He gives a strained chuckle and says, “Pet, I can barely pull out of a driveway much less this tight little cunt.” He squeezes your throat hard, strands of hair popping out of your scalp and his cock feels massive, the pinch in your stomach feels like a cramp from how deep he is and he lets out a low drawn out moan that lasts 3 thrusts— and then there’s warmth filling you up, so much so it leaks from the sides of where you two are connected. Simon lets go of your hair and you fall face-first onto the bed, exhausted. Defeated. Back properly broken. You officially know what it’s like to get fucked within an inch of your life and you love it. 

He pulls out slowly, with a hiss from both of you and with one hand on your left cheek, he spreads you to look at your stuffed hole.

“Fuck. I love seeing me drip out of you.” 

You’re about to tell him to sod off when the doorbell rings and the both of you stiffen and lock eyes. With a mean snarl, Simon grabs a towel from your bathroom and his mask before stomping his way to answer the door, pink obnoxious scrunchy still on his wrist.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

[chelseeebe]

seven minutes in heaven.

a/n: pure self indulgent smut here i really have no other way to describe this lmfao. i wrote this all in about three hours so please excuse any mistakes bc i had to get the idea out while it was still fresh in the mind. don’t get me wrong i love dominant eddie but let’s be real he’s just not, is he? he’s a fumbling little virgin and i love that

18+. smut. alcohol. sex with someone in the room (don’t do this. this is fiction.) eddie is so pathetically down bad for reader and also a virgin! they’re in college rather than hs bc i’m too old to be writing about teenagers here

‎♡‧₊˚

eddie’s insanely nervous when the bottle starts spinning, anticipating the dread of having to get in that tiny closet with well.. literally anyone.

he wasn’t exactly well versed when it came to sexual encounters. he’d barely just kissed a girl for the first time last year and had been successful in avoiding any and all games of this nature. it’s not like he didn’t want to, he just didn’t want to embarrass himself nor disappoint whichever poor soul had to stuff themselves into that closet with him.

it spins and spins until it lands on chrissy and some dude he’d just met tonight. breathing a silent sigh of relief as he now gets a further seven minutes to think up some excuse as to why he couldn’t kiss his match.

his ringed finger circles the top of the glass bottle, clinking against it in some unrecognisable beat. maybe he could run to the bathroom as soon as they came out? at least he’d have to miss another go, be free of the embarrassment a little while longer.

eddie’s eyes glide around the circle, eyeing up the potential matches. there’s robin, who absolutely not interested in him and especially not anyone of his gender. nancy, she’s cute but one hundred percent not his type and he’s sure that the fact both of her exes are sat in the room would mean they could get out of kissing. a few other girls that he’s sure would kiss him but they wouldn’t be thrilled about it. then there’s you. sat with your legs crossed, skirt riding up your supple thighs and a shirt that hung low enough that you shouldn’t have even bothered wearing one.

he only notices that he’s staring when steve makes some lewd comment about the noises coming from the closet. tearing his eyes off of your chest and onto the rowdy man.

oh shit, what if it lands on a guy? at least maybe they could just shuffle off and pretend to make kissy noises, see that’d be easy.

before he’s able to jump up and run off, chrissy and the unnamed guy stumble out of the closet, giggling with their cheeks flushed.

oh god oh god oh god.

‘ya have fun in there?’ steve bellows, clearly intoxicated and obviously way too eager to have his turn. why couldn’t he just be more like him, eddie thinks.

steve spins the bottle again. going round and round and round until it stops, the lipped edge facing you.

please no. please literally anyone other than him.

if he was clueless with the other girls he wouldn’t have a fucking clue what to do with you.

‘oh shiiit,’ steve hisses as he sends the bottle flying again.

it slows down just before him, thinking he’d escaped once again until the glass stops. pointing right at his gormless face. he blinks at the bottle, trying with all his might to send it flying again through some undiscovered telekinetic energy or some shit.

it doesn’t. obviously. because he’s not fucking superman.

‘come on,’ you speak, stood before him with your hand extended. oh fuck. he’s not sure he can even take your hand. it’s far too clammy and he’d expose his super-virgin status.

he groans getting up from the floor, gingerly taking your hand and following you through the corridor to the closet. his heart in his throat the entire time. he thinks he might just throw up. unsure of if it’s from the anticipation or just sheer terror of having to try and kiss you.

with your fucking tiny skirt and your perfect tits pressed against him. there’s no way he won’t pop a fucking boner. oh god, what if-

‘you okay?’ you ask, shuffling into the small space opposite with the tiny flecks of light shining on your smile. he hadn’t even noticed you’d shut the door, too caught up in his own head to realise that this was now and he was going to have to do something before you ran out of there laughing.

‘yeah- yeah,’ nodding frantically as he attempts to collect himself. maybe you didn’t wanna kiss him? you’d make some polite excuse about having a boyfriend or something and then you could stand and make small talk for the excruciatingly long seven minutes.

‘good,’ you mumble before closing the already tiny gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a haste.

eddie’s head is empty. absolutely nothing going on inside. frozen in time as your lips move against his. he should do something. he just doesn’t know what.

‘what? you never kissed a girl before?’ you scoff, pulling away slightly. are you mocking him? or is this flirting? fuck, why don’t they make books for this kinda shit?

‘y-yeah i have..’ he mumbles, arms still limply hung around his sides. if you could see his face right now, he’d be comparable to a ripe beetroot.

‘so kiss me back then?’ you giggle, connecting your lips once again, soft hand coming to caress his warm cheek.

okay, yeah. just.. kiss back.

he does what he thinks is right, eyes fluttering shut as his lips move with yours. this is good, he thinks. it feels right.

your other hand reaches out to grab his wrist, moving his hand to rest on your waist. giggling into his mouth, your breath tasting like alcohol and a hint of mint. it’s sweet, addicting almost as he chases the taste with his mouth.

adrenaline racing through his veins when your hand leaves his wrist and tangles into his hair, fingernails tracing along his sensitive scalp. he has to restrain himself from moaning into your mouth. it’s an entirely new sensation for him, makes his cock twitch in his tight jeans. he can’t stop thinking about how much he wants you to just tug it, pull his head back with your delicate fingers.

your knee slides between his legs, thick thigh nudging the growing bulge in his pants. letting out the most embarrassing noise into your mouth. before he even has time to curse himself for it your tongue slips into his mouth, using the opportunity to push your chest further into his.

deciding now to be brave, his hand shakily meets your shoulder, holding you in that exact position. he could stay here forever, he wouldn’t need anything else in life. ever.

your lips pull back slightly and he whimpers. literally whimpers in response to the sudden lack of attention. feeling your smile grow against his now swollen lips. who the fuck whimpers? if he hadn’t already established his virgin-ness, he definitely had now.

‘is that good, yeah?’ you breathe, the words almost sending him into cardiac arrest. they sound as if they’re dipped in honey coming from your sweet lips.

he nods quickly, unable to form a coherent response without looking like an utter fool. opening his eyes just enough to see you staring up at him through your lashes. if he weren’t leant against the wall, he’s sure he’d collapse into a puddle of goo.

‘what if i do.. this?’ palm sliding down over his neck and heaving chest before stopping at his belt buckle, waiting for a sign to continue.

his adams apple bobs as he swallows and you take it as a compliment and sliding your hand on top of his very obvious boner.

he’s a goner.

grip tightening on your shoulder as his breath stutters. willing himself not to cum in his pants right then and there. he would never ever live that down. not with that meathead harrington who would definitely pull him up on it the second you left.

‘oh yeah?’ you remark, smirking in the darkness at his pathetic stature. slowly moving your fingers as you palm him through his jeans. your hardened nipples brushing against his chest because of fucking course you weren’t wearing a bra.

there’s no way he’s making it out of this cupboard alive.

‘h-holy shit,’ he chokes out, eyelids fluttering as he fights off fainting. his head is fuzzy, sorta like how he felt when he got high and jerked off except so so much better.

‘maybe we could.. continue this later?’ muttering quietly so as to avoid anyone outside hearing.

he’s well aware that you only have at most a minute or so left before someone rips open that door and reveals the pitiful mess he is. the sentence doesn’t register for a few seconds until he realises what you meant.

‘y-yes,’ he finally responds, overly eager, ‘please,’ ashamed at how desperate he sounded. he’s sure that he’d kill someone for just one extra minute in here with you. not entirely sure how he would be able to hold on until later.

you don’t reply with words, mashing your lips together one last time before someone hammers on the door, signalling that his seven minutes in actual heaven were over.

‘get out you horny fucks, i want a turn!’ steve jokes from the other side, making you spring apart before he comes crashing into the room.

you smile at him again, seemingly so innocent when he knows you’re anything but.

the bright light of the hallway makes him blink before you bound off back to whoever’s room you were playing him. leaving him with the worlds most awkward stiffy and absolutely no way to hide it from the prying eyes of the fellow players.

‘god damn munson, are you alright?’ steve laughs at his outwardly flustered appearance. eddie is so fucking grateful that the boy is too invested in getting his turn to pay full attention to the obvious tent in his jeans.

sliding into his spot, discreetly moving one of the cushions to his lap. he doesn’t give a shit about the game, too busy wondering just when later would be.

it goes on and on.

robin and nancy head off to the closet, receiving a few woos from the gaggle of people.

then it lands on argyle and jonathan, the larger man having to drag jonathan into the closet with an excited wiggle of his brows.

steve’s fuming at every turn that isn’t his, throwing his hands into the air when it lands on anyone other than him.

and then the bottle goes spinning again, stopping on you. eddie’s not sure if it’s jealousy that it could land on anybody else or desperate hope that it lands on him again.

it doesn’t, goes flying right past him and ends up stopping right in front of steve who jumps up, absolutely ecstatic that he finally gets to go into that damn closet.

eddie’s eyes meet yours, ducking his head slightly and hoping that the searing envy wasn’t so apparent on his features. you give him a little shrug and that same damning smile before getting off the floor.

‘c’mon then big boy,’ rolling your eyes as steve pulls you into the closet.

eddie’s seething with jealousy and he’s not even sure why. you weren’t his like, this wasn’t an exclusive contract that meant you could only play the game with him. near enough drawing blood as his teeth dig into his bottom lip. it’s the thought of it. of steve and his big hands and his exuding levels of confidence. infuriating him to no end.

‘you good bro?’ jonathan nudges his elbow, completely unaware that he had been glaring at the same stain on the carpet for what must have been minutes.

‘me? yeah.. i’m good,’ standing to grab himself another beer. thank fuck the boner had subsided. at one point he had seriously considered disappearing to the bathroom to relieve himself but a few thoughts of his sixth grade math teacher naked had killed it completely.

he pops the top off with his ring, taking a long hard swig of the beer, counting the seconds until you’d reappear from the hallway. this would be the perfect time to grow some goddamn balls and show you how he felt. he could slide right into the spot next to you, maybe even extend an arm around your shoulder. you know, really hammer it home.

‘it’s been seven minutes,’ he blurts out instead, appearing more as a jealous weirdo than the cool, outgoing guy he so wished to be. stupid. internally cussing himself out.

‘you were in there for eight minutes, dude,’ robin laughs, shoulders shaking at his eagerness. great, now everyone in the room knew he was a possessive, jealous freak.

‘hah.. yeah right,’ shuffling back to his spot with the worst attempt at playing at cool that he’d ever seen. swallowing the gigantic lump in his throat and watching the doorway like a fucking hawk.

‘seven minutes stevie.. that’s it,’ your voice echoes and you finally reappear, pulling at the strap of your shirt, readjusting it to its rightful position on your shoulder.

‘holy shit,’ steve remarks, his stupidly perfect hair all messed up, red cheeks to match. eddie longs to grab his collar and pummel his fist into his face. he doesn’t of course, that’d make him look really normal.

instead he chooses to read the label of the beer bottle rather intently, ignoring the feeling of your eyes boring into him. perhaps later would never arrive and he’d just have to move on with his life.

the party dies down and eventually the game gets abandoned, party goers slinking off home or to the bedrooms or as argyle had, passing out on the couch. now would be the perfect time to scarper off to his dorm, not like anyone would notice he was gone. you certainly wouldn’t. not with steve hanging around your feet like a lost puppy.

when the music cuts out, he knows it’s time to go. later was quite clearly not coming. and neither was he. well, he would. just when he got home.

‘well, i’m going to bed,’ you announce, pushing yourself from the couch, staring directly at him. is that a hint? is this later? god, he doesn’t know.

hesitating just a moment too long as steve interjects first, ‘me too.. you don’t mind if i crash here, do you?’

your eyebrows raise slightly, still staring him down. waiting for a response well, for anything from eddie.

‘i-i’ll take the couch, if that’s okay?’ thinking that maybe your lack of response was also a hint? it’s really not clear and he just wishes that you’d directly tell him what to do.

‘sure.. knock yourself out,’ you shrug, a tinge of disappointment in your voice. so it was a hint. you wanted eddie to volunteer to stay in your room, he gets it now! now that it’s way too late.

‘great! well, i guess we’re roomies,’ steve smirks, gazing over at you. disgustingly smug in the way his hand lingers on the small of your back. that should be him. if only he wasn’t such a bumbling idiot he might’ve been the one leading you up the stairs. fingers sprawled out on your back and a mischievous grin to match.

he takes his spot on the couch, shuffling out of the denim jacket that had clung to him all night. he’s sure he can hear a distant banging, some muffled moans and a squeaky mattress. or maybe it’s his subconscious playing cruel, horrid tricks on him. whatever it is, he hates that it’s got him excited. it’s incredibly disgusting and perverted but he can’t help it. he’d sported a slight chub for most of the night which was definitely not helping right now.

tossing on the uncomfortable couch until his head is buried in the cushion and he can’t hear it anymore. certainly rock solid as his eyes squeeze shut. oh fuck. the bathroom seemed like a perfectly valid idea now, that wasn’t weird right?

just before he can convince himself to get up and go the stairs creak and he can hear a soft padding of feet climbing down. freezing in his spot, hips pressed into the soft cushion so as to not give away his precarious position. it’s just someone getting water, at least he hopes.

‘are you a fuckin’ idiot?’ your voice whispers harshly from the doorway, muttering curses under your breath as you stumble across the room to the couch.

‘w-what?’ he speaks, turning his head but leaving his body flat against the back of the sofa. now he definitely didn’t want you to see that.

‘you were supposed to- fuck, where are you?’ groaning as your toe collides with the coffee table, still blindly feeling your way to the couch.

‘here,’ he calls, holding his arm out for you to find.

using his voice to finally find the stupid couch, fumbling around as your leg slings over his sideways turned thighs, ‘why are you lying like that? move,’ speaking in hushed voices, trying not to wake the gentle giant on the opposite sofa.

your bossiness certainly doesn’t make matters any better, his dick straining against the denim as he reshuffles, lying flat on his back. he’s grateful that you’d straddled his thighs and not his raging boner.

‘you were supposed to say that you were staying with me, you idiot,’ sitting tall atop his legs.

his hands are suspended in the air, hesitant to touch you. or touch the wrong part of you even. eddie’s brain reboots when you shuffle upwards, mouth running dry as the cogs turn ever so slowly to formulate a reply.

‘i- wha? i thought.. you and steve.. uh, in the closet?’ his eyes somewhat adjusting to the darkness, just about making out your figure and your furrowed brows. oh god it’s so hot- you’re so hot when you’re mad. his mind flashing back to that dingy closet and how fucking good your hand felt in his hair.

‘no,’ you grimace, ‘i don’t want to fuck steve, i want to fuck you.. are you stupid?’ coming to place your hands on his chest. sure that you could feel his heart pounding through his shirt. ‘he just touched my tits a little and besides, i hid in the bathroom until he passed out.. you are stupid.’

his mouth opens and subsequently shuts again without any words forming. there weren’t any. yes. yes he was stupid. quite clearly. most people probably would’ve gathered what was going on when you’d fondled his balls and very obviously stated that you wanted to fuck him later. well, eddie wasn’t most people.

‘you do?’ is all that he manages to squeeze out, sounding like a small child. eyes shining bright in the little light leaking through the curtains.

‘oh my god,’ you complain, leaning down to connect your lips, wanting to shut him up if nothing else.

even now, he’s still taken aback but he’s not completely brain dead yet as his hands find your hips. see? didn’t even need your guidance this time.

your hips grind down against his, pyjama shorts riding up as you move. eddie’s positively gutted that he can’t see them in this light, he knows they’re soft, can feel that at least. he’s more confident now, a new air about him that just wasn’t there mere hours ago. he thinks that maybe it’s because there isn’t a room full of his friends listening to your every move outside.

that or the sheer level of arousal coursing his veins.

but his tongue is the one to slip into your mouth, noting that you’d definitely brushed your teeth and he wished he’d done the same. your fingers walk the length of his chest, coming between your bodies to his belt buckle.

this is it. he’s going to lose his virginity. and to you no less. oh fuck.

you pull away, tapping on his chest with your other hand, ‘sit up,’ forefinger hooked into one of his belt loops.

he obliges immediately, shifting to sit back against the arm rest. making sure to hold onto your waist as he does. you feel so soft, his fingers melding into your skin perfectly. the cold metal of his rings leaving tiny indentations as his grip tightens. he’d do anything you asked him to, especially if you were poised above him like this.

your hand goes back to working his belt off, unbuttoning his jeans and working them down his thighs. brushing against his length with your fingers. he’s almost panting, head lolling back instinctively, stifling the ungodly moan that had found itself in the back of his throat.

‘look at me,’ you whisper, still tracing the veiny cock beneath you.

his head shoots up, looking back into your eyes. desperate to please you, abiding by any and all instructions that you barked just incase he fucked this up. he would have to pack his bags and flee the country if he did. not sure that he would be able to live with himself.

‘are you a virgin?’ you ask quietly and he feels his cheeks flush immediately.

was it that obvious? the fact that he’d popped a boner the second you’d kissed him was probably a dead giveaway, actually. you don’t seem to care.. he has no reason to lie. unless this is all one big prank and you’re actually about to climb off of him and start laughing.

it’s totally shameful but actually that’d probably still get him off.

‘yeah..’

you nod, taking your eyes off of his to look down at his cock. there’s a tiny wet patch which had actually most likely been there for hours when he thinks about it.

‘you want to, don’t you? we don’t have to.. could suck you off or something?’

‘n-no no, i want to.. trust me, i want to,’ sounding as desperate as humanly possible. over his dead body would he would fuck this up. now he’s not sure how long he’ll last but he’s sure it won’t be long.

‘okay.. good,’ you smirk, bringing the waistband of his boxers down. his cock springs up to his stomach and his eyes flit shut. was his dick small? is that something you cared about? he didn’t have much to go off here except from porn and even he knew that wasn’t exactly realistic.

he can hear you spit into your hand and he’s back to full attention, watching as it drops into your palm and trying his hardest not to cum right now. with your chin shining and your lips wet, it’s all too much.

and when your tender hand covered in your spit wraps around the base of his cock, he chokes on nothing. fingernails leaving crescent moon shapes in your hips, certain that he’s probably hurting you but unable to let go without busting a nut.

you pump your hand a few times, watching intently as he struggles to stay with it. it’s heaven. no no, it’s better than heaven. better than anything he’d ever experienced in his entire life. and the man had gotten creative with some of his masturbation sessions to say the least.

a snore rips through the room and it’s then that he’s reminded of the other man passed out on the other side of the room, ‘shit.. sh-should we carry on?’ nervously taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

‘just be quiet, he won’t wake up,’ ignoring the drunkard and continuing to pump your hand.

eddie’s unsure if it’s you or if he’s feeling things but he can feel a something wet on his thigh. not brave enough to take his hand down there to find out.

‘you sure you want to?’ leaving your hand at the base of his cock to move yourself upwards.

‘y-yes.. please,’ nodding like a maniac.

that’s all the confirmation you need to shift your shorts out of the way, sitting straighter on your knees and positioning his tip at your sopping entrance.

he’s not prepared one bit for how intense it feels. the sensation sends shockwaves through his entire body, sending his head spinning.

lowering yourself down onto him with a soft sigh, hands now finding his shoulders for leverage. eddie’s about to start levitating. you’re so warm, enveloping him inside just right. the second you move, he’ll probably start crying.

his eyes struggle to stay open, rolling to the back of his head. moaning far too loudly when your hips move forward causing your hand to clamp right over his mouth. as if that wouldn’t make him cum ten times faster.

‘shh,’ you hiss, working your hips at a steady rhythm. soft squeaks leaving your own mouth with every bounce but keeping your eyes steady on him. enjoying the sight of him coming completely undone underneath your body.

your hand leaves his shoulder for a second, manoeuvring his hand onto your chest, ‘touch me,’ mewling when he gets the gist and starts palming your tit. the feel of your hardened nipples underneath his palm only sending him hurtling faster towards his already fast approaching orgasm.

he’s one second away from blurting out that he’s in love with you. which he doesn’t think is far off of the truth to be honest.

you trust him enough to not start babbling and take your hand from his mouth, grabbing onto his shoulder again to quicken your pace. clit catching against the patch of pubes he wishes he had time to tame. it was driving him fucking insane, knowing that he was the reason you were panting and cursing under your breath.

there it is. that familiar sensation of something tightening in his stomach, except a hundred times more intense than anything he’d ever felt before. quickly shaking his head to give you some forewarning though it’s pretty useless.

‘f-fuck, oh fuck,’ lifting his hips from the couch to empty himself into you. eddie could’ve never imagined that this is what you would feel like. pure ecstasy vibrating through his limbs, spurts of white hot pleasure exploding behind his eyelids.

his thighs shaking as he collapses back into the couch, still mumbling a bunch of sorries as he attempts to float back down to planet earth. he’d lasted a measly few minutes and for that, he wanted to curl up and die. if it weren’t for the fact that you were so fucking sexy and so warm and so perfect- he probably would’ve lasted at least a couple minutes more.

eddie’s eyes stay closed as you climb off of him, readjusting your shorts as you settle on his thighs once again, ‘you back in the room yet?’ chuckling quickly, leering down at him.

a strangled laugh falls out of his lips, daring to look at you. ashamed even though he knows it’s not that bad. sure he’d lasted longer than at least one other person out there.

‘sorry.. i swear, gimme like.. like ten minutes..’ doing everything in his power to convince you not to leave. because truthfully if you stayed like this, he probably would be hard again in a matter of minutes.

‘hey.. it’s okay,’ you lean down, chest flat against his, ‘don’t worry ‘bout it,’ head perfectly tilted to gaze up into his eyes. maybe he wouldn’t need ten minutes at all. not with the way you’re looking at him like that, doe eyed and whispering sweet words of encouragement into his ear.

‘wanna.. uh,’ the words stick in his throat, ‘wanna get you off,’ blushing despite the fact his dick had literally just been buried inside of you. it’s ridiculous really.

‘you can.. don’t worry,’ pressing your lips to the stubble beneath his chin.

his cock twitches at the sensation and he truly realises how completely pathetic he was. fully at your mercy but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[tasteracha]

sweet venom

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

warnings: afab!reader, possessive behavior, unprotected sex, smut - MINORS DNI.

synopsis: request from my baby @astraystayyh who asked for grinding and lipstick and i kind of didn’t follow much of either but they’re there!!!!! 1.8k.

you can hear hyunjin doing his live in the next room - he made you swear to not click into it, saying that he’d be much too nervous if he saw you there. you listened, you’d do anything for him if he asked, but you held back the fact that the walls were thin and it was like you were there anyways. he didn’t need to know that. 

you were usually fine with it. you were usually happy to hear him giggling along with his fans, ecstatic that he had so many people who loved him and wanted to spend time with him. it was just one of those things that came with being in a relationship with an idol that you just got used to. but right now, you were in an unusual mindset of wanting to be the only one that loved him, wanting to be the single person that he was spending time with. you didn’t want to share him, and while that might be selfish you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

it took thirty minutes of you seething in bed to come up with your half-baked plan. you walk over to your spare closet, keeping your steps light as you dig through it for a small paper bag hidden in the corner. you’d been keeping it for a special occasion, something you could wear as a treat for hyunjin, but this seemed like a better opportunity. you loved catching him off guard, as rare of an occurrence as it is. 

you weave through the flimsy tissue paper in the bag and pull out a set of delicate lace, stark red against your skin. it was a beautiful lingerie set, something you had splurged on quite a bit, beautiful patterns of fabric complimented by thin bows and mesh paneling. you knew it would drive hyunjin crazy. 

you swipe on some matching red lipstick and a few coats of mascara before pulling on the fabric, shivering a bit at the cold air hitting your exposed body. you weren’t one to show off this much skin typically, but it was worth it for this. you push away your discomfort as you step into the hallway, feet feather-light on the hardwood until you reach the door.

you press your ear to it, hearing his voice as clear as if it was right in your ear. him giggling at someone’s comment, him making jokes that weren’t meant for you, him flirting with them like you weren’t in the same apartment as him. 

you push the door open abruptly and falter, your plan standing on shaky ground as you take him in. his hair is pushed back, a pair of metal rimmed glasses framing his face perfectly, and he’s spread out like a whore. he’s sprawled into the headboard of the bed, your bed, legs open and you see red. his head perks up like an animal, eyebrows raised in surprise. 

“oh,” you can see the blood rush to his face as he twitches a bit, eyes flickering back and forth between you and the camera. “um. something came up, i have to go. bye!”

he turns the live off, and you already know that he’s going to be trending on twitter in a matter of minutes, but you don’t care. twitter can talk about him all they want, but he’s living and breathing in front of you and suddenly there’s too much space between you to bear. 

“you think you can show off like this for other people?” you crawl onto the bed and stop in front of him, kneeling between his legs, setting your hands on his upper thighs. “you think you’re allowed to show them my property? you’re mine-“

he cuts you off with a huff, pulling you into him by the waist, leaving you sprawled into his lap. your hands brace onto his chest to keep yourself from crashing into him, and you can feel his heart beating under them, light and fragile like a hummingbird’s wings. 

“you talk too much, did you know that?” he teases, leaning back to take in your body, eyes roaming up and down. it’s a testament to how much you trust him that you don’t want to hide from his gaze, that you preen under his attention instead. 

“hmm,” you swing your legs over his, fully straddling him. “i don’t think that i talk enough, actually.”

you grind down on him, satisfaction thrumming through you when his mouth drops open in a surprised moan, and you take the chance to kiss him. his lips immediately surrender to yours, letting you lead him as you rake your nails down his chest, the thin material of his t-shirt doing nothing to stop the sensation. his hands, still on your hips, pull you into him again, making small circles that are in tune with the way his heart is threatening to beat out of his chest. 

you trail your lips down his neck, leaving red lipstick stains in your path downwards. you bring your teeth into the equation, complimenting every rose-shaped pucker with a sharp thorny bite. the whines he lets out are sweeter than any melody that has ever hit your ears - you’d never let anyone tell you that you weren’t a musician when you could play his body this well. 

“not-,” he cuts off with a groan when you bear down into his lap, kissing his collarbone to soothe him. “not where people can see, love.”

“i’ll do whatever i want,” you growl, meeting eyes with him as you suck a mark right under his jaw. “you don’t get to tell me what to do.” 

it’s a little ridiculous that a live has gotten you this worked up, but with the way his breath is picking up and his chest is heaving under you, you’re pretty sure he’s right there with you. you lean back to appreciate your artwork, pausing your hips and grinning at the way your lipstick stains have dotted his neck and smeared around his lips. they’re physical marks of your claim on him.  

“okay, sorry,” he whines, voice thin. “i won’t do it again, i was close, why did you stop -”

you shush him with another kiss, cradling his face in your hands. you pluck his glasses off his face, throwing them at the foot of the bed without care - it’s not like he needs them to see, anyways. they were getting in the way. 

“you’re close already? baby, if you’re going to come today, it’ll be inside me or not at all,” you murmur against his lips, pressing a few pecks there before pulling back again. he shudders, a fully body thing that sends your own body into a delightful hum. you’ll never get used to the effect that you have on him, you’ll never understand how it was you that he picked. 

you help him pull down his sweatpants and boxers, holding back a smirk at how hard he is. you barely have time to push your panties aside before he’s pulling you back into him again, a hard grip on your hips for the countless time; you hope he leaves hand-shaped bruises on you that last for days. 

you raise up and ease him into you, the wetness that’s been building up since you walked in making the slide almost too easy. when he bottoms out you pause for a moment, settling in his lap and letting yourself get used to the feeling of him inside you. he fills you up so perfectly, nestled within you like he was carved specially just for you. the streak of possession comes back full force, something nasty and dark curling up in you at the thought of no one else getting to experience this ever. you were going to keep him forever, he is yours. 

he swipes his thumb across your lips, smearing the lipstick everywhere before he pushes it into your mouth. you can taste the sticky sweetness of the makeup as you swirl your tongue around him, and his eyes are so dark on you that you almost can’t see his irises anymore.

you lift up and drop back down, once, twice, over and over god it feels so damn good. the angle you’re at makes him drive into that spot inside you that burns in pleasure, and soon enough your knees give out, unable to keep yourself upright. 

he takes it as permission to flip you over onto your back, the weightlessness making your stomach flip before your back hits the mattress. he cradles the back of your head in his hand, keeping it from hitting the headboard as he looms over you, lining himself back up and pushing back inside you in one go. 

his hair falls into his face, swinging along with his body as he rocks into you. the headboard squeaks but it’s nothing compared to the symphony your combined breaths create. 

your hands reach up to cup his neck, thumbs sliding against the droplets of sweat rolling down his temples. you pull him in for another kiss, nastier than the others, full of gnashing teeth and dirty licks into each other’s mouths until you can’t tell where you end and he begins. his hand trails down your side, fingers pressing into your ribcage before going further down, down, down. 

he parts your folds with his fingers, expert motions locating your clit easily. he rubs small circles into it, in time with his quickening thrusts, and you have to screw your eyes closed because it’s too much. 

you feel your orgasm approaching faster than you thought it would, something about his near feral motions hitting parts of you that you hadn’t discovered yet. your entire body tightens with it, wave after wave of what seems like never ending pleasure wracking your body, going from your core all the way to your toes and the tols of your fingers. 

he comes inside you with a growl, burying his head in your neck as you milk him through your own aftershocks. you can feel his heavy breaths on your skin, his entire body enveloping yours as you float through the haze he’s put you in. 

you come back to yourself when he pulls out, letting out a pitiful whine at the loss of contact. he runs a hand through your hair, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before dashing away, coming back just as quickly with a water bottle and a warm washcloth to clean you up with. 

he goes to unhook your bra, knowing that you hate sleeping in them, but you pause his hand with a weak grip. 

“you like it?” you ask, asking for the verbal validation that he did even though you know. 

“do i like it?” he asks, incredulous, raising a brow at you. “you look divine. i’m going to paint you in this one day.”

“good,” you sigh in content, letting him undress you fully. he makes quick work of his own clothes, sticky with sweat, and he goes to retrieve his phone. 

“my love?” he calls out, timid, his eyes wide as he looks down at the screen. “would you kill me if i told you i never turned off the live?”

“what?” you hiss, fully awake now. “please tell me you’re joking.”

“i am,” he giggles, showing you the black screen he was looking at. “that was revenge for interrupting my live, you jealous baby.”

“i’ll show you revenge, hwang hyunjin!”

[moonstruckme]

Hey love!

Was wondering if you could write a poly!maurader x fem!reader fic where (boys being boys) they had a bet who could go longer without sex and about a week reader decided to tease them a lil bit where she would flirt or like bend over to pick up smtg.

Thanks for requesting lovely!

cw: mature themes

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

It’s so boy of them to discount you like this. Like, the bet had been funny at first, each of your boyfriends doing whatever they could to put the others in hot and heavy situations with you and each other, but after you and Sirius had gotten locked in a closet for the better part of an afternoon, they’d decided to take things down a notch. And as far as you’re concerned, that was when the fun part came to an end. 

The thing is, they’re guys. While they’re having their little stint of celibacy, they can at least still get themselves off. Multiple times a day, if they feel like it. It’s not that easy for you. So for you to not even have been involved in the bet, and yet be the one feeling its consequences most acutely…well, it’s beginning to grate on your nerves.

So you decide to make it fun again. 

“Oh, shit.” You say, getting James’ attention from where he’s going through the closet, trying to find a pair of pants to wear. “I dropped my wand under the bed.” 

He moves towards you. “I’ll get it for you, lovie.” 

“No, no, that’s alright.” You say, getting down on your hands and knees. “I’ve got it.” 

James falls silent as you arch your back under the pretense of reaching under the bed, letting your short skirt slip up to show the pretty, barely-there panties you’d picked out this morning. You linger for a bit longer than necessary, letting James take in the view from where he stands across from the bed. 

“Got it.” You emerge with the wand, sitting back on your legs and turning to James with a smile. 

His mouth is slightly open. He blinks, eyes dazed and pupils blown behind his lenses. “That’s, uh…” He blinks a few more times, faster. “That’s great, sweetheart. Glad you found it.” 

♡ ♡ ♡

“Gods.” Sirius nearly chokes when he sees you in the kitchen. “You’re looking nice today, angel.” 

You almost roll your eyes. You’re only wearing a tank top and underwear, but apparently that’s all it takes when your boyfriend’s been so long without any of you. Instead, you plaster on a coy smile.

“Thanks,” you say, as though you hadn’t noticed. “You look nice, too.” 

Sirius is making eyes at you as he leans his elbows on the counter. Like you’re the one who needs to worry. “Whatcha making, sweet thing?”

“Chocolate mousse. I’m just working on melting the chocolate right now.” You dip your forefinger into the warm, gooey liquid, bringing it to your mouth and sucking the chocolate off. You keep your eyes on Sirius’, so you can see the exact moment when his darken. “Mmm, want to try?” 

Sirius swallows. “Huh?”

You don’t bother looking innocuous, letting your eyes go droopy and suggestive in the way you know how. “I said, do you want some?” 

He’s silent for so long you think he might ask you to repeat yourself again, but then he clears his throat and stammers, “Uh, no—no thanks, doll. I’m good.” 

You pout. “It’s really good, though. Here, have a taste.” You cross the few steps between you and kiss him. 

Sirius takes a second to kiss you back, but when he does it’s so wanting that you don’t even have to be sneaky about winding one of your hands into his hair while using the other to bring his to your ass. He squeezes, and you moan into his mouth, grinding your hips into his just slightly. 

Sirius gasps, breaking away. He takes one step back, then another, putting distance between you as he tries to blink the glaze from his eyes. “Minx,” he whispers accusingly, and flees the kitchen. 

♡ ♡ ♡

“Thanks, baby.” You bat your eyelashes up at Remus as he brings you a glass of water from the kitchen. 

He lets out a low chuckle. “I know what you’re doing.” 

“No idea what you’re talking about,” you hum. 

Remus gives you a deadpan look, but there’s a glint of amusement in his amber eyes. “Earlier this morning, I went into our bedroom to find James, pantsless, with a hard-on.” It takes every ounce of control you have not to grin, but Remus quirks a brow like you have anyway. “And then a little while ago, Sirius came running out of the kitchen like something was chasing him, and he could barely speak. You didn’t have anything to do with that, dovey?” 

You let your eyes go wide and innocent as you shake your head. “Maybe they’re just getting sick of your competition.” 

“Mm, unlikely,” Remus hums, and his surety of his own willpower only worsens your determination to make him falter. “But if that’s the story you want to stick with, that’s fine.” 

You frown at him, the glass of water slippery with condensation in your palm. “Well, I—oh, damn!” you tip the glass of water into Remus’ lap, soaking his pants. He freezes, gasping at the cold. “I’m so sorry, honey. Here, let me help.” Luckily for you, you’d (completely coincidentally, of course) left a tea towel nearby earlier. You take it, blotting at Remus’ crotch with touches that start urgent but become lingering as you go on. After a minute, there’s really nothing left to sop up, and Remus hands are laid flat on the couch, every inch of him tense as you dab at his bulge with slow, tantalizing touches. 

When he speaks, his voice is low, gravelly. “You’re a lot more conniving than we give you credit for, you know that?”

You let your lips curl into a smile, leaving your hand to rest on his crotch. “I know.” 

Remus tips his head back, letting his eyes slip closed as he takes a slow, deep breath. “Fuck it.” 

You blink. “Huh?”

In the next second, Remus is gripping your hips and hoisting you up against him, your chest pressed to his. You inhale sharply as he stands, wrapping your legs around his waist, and he’s kissing at your throat, master of multitasking while he carries you into the bedroom. 

He nips at your jaw, and you giggle deliriously. “I won?” you ask, hardly believing it. Of all your boyfriends, you thought Remus had the least chance of breaking down before the others. 

His chuckle reverberates through you, and warmth flares in your core in response. “Sure you did, sweetheart. Though I think by the time we’re done here, who exactly won will be a bit more debatable.”

[neptxn3]

Astrology Observations II

｡:ﾟ૮ ˶ˆ ﻌ ˆ˶ ა ﾟ:｡

Disclaimer, these are observations I have made through personal experience and thorough research, observations also vary depending on other natal placements involved

doesn’t resonate ≠ untrue 

♅ Virgos tend to represent the trad wife far more than people assume taurus does, and that’s because Virgos ability to uphold their life (at least on the outside) tend to attract men who want a wife that can keep them on track

Some Virgo women tend to also attract gay men unfortunately 😭, again I think Virgos just seem like the perfect trad Wife and it will attract closeted men like flies. This isn’t to say all your partners will be closeted but the ones who are overly aggressive on your role in the relationship might be.

♅ Gemini moon children develop QUICKLY. These are usually the kids who weird you out with their extensive knowledge and self awareness that seemingly comes out of nowhere. The mercury influence allows them to digest many topics which in turn has Gemini moon children mentally developing at a faster pace than their peers

I’ve also observed Gemini moons are those annoying kids in your class that are a lot smarter and a bit condescending to others intelligence, not because that’s just the way they are, but their mercurial moon needs constant stimulation, and with a combination of their rapid growth you’ll see them climbing academic ranks which in turn can make them dislike school if they are not progressing at a speed they like. 

♅ Scorpio moons have a tendency to see the worst in every situation/person which can be a nasty habit, but this isn’t out of judgment, rather they don’t like to give people the benefit of the doubt. They don’t like to be screwed over and their best bet is to think of the worst scenario possible. 

♅ Aquarius Venus who are flaky in relationships and constantly cheat will eventually have karma handed back to them, usually in the form of being in their mid 40’s still single.

Aquarius Venus flaky reputation does stem from the fact that it is a Saturn influenced placement, as well as being fixed. It’s not that they hate any type of restriction to their freedom but rather to what extent you restrict them to. They can and will jump quickly into relationships but if they see any glimpse of possessive or controlling attributes they will leave. Again because it’s fixed and Saturn influenced Aquarius Venus knows once it settles down that’s it, they’re not going anywhere, that’s why they’re so scattered to find the right person who fits their criteria. 

♅ Moon/Sun harshly aspecting Neptune is the embodiment of “I hate my Mom/Dad, but I love her/him too”. Neptune harshly aspecting these planets can cause a huge wall of misunderstanding between parent and child, but Neptune blurs the lines so deep that the individual sees them “through rose colored glasses” and if incapable of harboring hate. I would even say there could be nights where these people will look back and remember their past relationships (Neptune = Dreams)

♅ 10h placements can sometimes struggle maintaining relationships due to the very contradicting nature of the Midheaven and ascendant. Usually people will perceive them to be very different from who they actually are.

This is also why they struggle with their self esteem (the natural square to the ascendant). Sometimes they feel like they need to keep up an image to satisfy others and that isn’t someone who they truly are 🥲

In synastry this also points to partners trying to change who they are/make choices for them because they think it’s “for the best” or “what’s good for them”. 

♅ Every Virgo rising I’ve met always gives me a small lesson on why astrology isn’t real but follow up with a “but can you read my chart I want to see if it’s true 👀”. I truly believe it’s the 12h Leo which makes them secretly a little self centered (hence the interest for things like astrology to attempt and figure themselves out) but the mercurial ascendant will always make them skeptical 😭

♅ Saturn conjunct Jupiter natives is a dangerous fire sometimes. I’ve noticed if they haven’t learned to balance this aspect in their chart, the people around them can suffer their warm and cold attitude. It’s almost as if one second you could be hysterically laughing in class together, and the next second they immediately stop and ask you to be serious and finish your work. WHERE DID THE VIBE GOOO?? The key here is moderation in whichever sign/house this is in

♅ Whoever said Neptune in hard aspect to Venus needs to practice saying positive affirmations (especially to Venus related topics) to themselves in the mirror was SO correct. Neptune indeed does reflect lies to you and reaffirming yourself in the mirror breaks that spell. I don’t think I’ve felt so beautiful since I started doing this. 

[zegrasdrysdale]

Could you write some thigh riding smut with Ethan Edwards? Reader and Ethan are just friends when it happens so maybe they’re hanging out and it somehow leads to sex. Bonus points if there’s jealousy and dirty talk lol

[ that way ] e. edwards

paring : Ethan Edwards x fem!reader

summary : jealousy gets the best of Ethan's best friend when she comes into town to watch him play some hockey

warning(s) : smut ! spoilers for "my best friend's wedding" (1997 movie), jealousy, dirty talk, thigh riding, multiple orgasms, p in v penetrative sex, protected sex

author’s note : you asked, i rewrote multiple times bc i wasn't happy w it, it deleted itself once, then i delivered (i hope). enjoy <3

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The puck finds the back of the net. The lamp lights up and the horn goes off. Everyone that’s wearing a yellow and blue jersey in Yost Arena is on their feet immediately. (Y/N) celebrates with the crowd in her borrowed jersey. She smiles and cheers while all the Michigan boys come out onto the ice to celebrate their overtime win right in front of her.

Ethan looks up into the stands right at his best friend. He points at her with a smile on his face even though she’s about six rows off the glass. She waves at him before he goes back to celebrating with his team. He gives helmet taps and he gets helmet taps.

He looks good in full gear on the ice. She may have to come to Michigan more often to come watch him play. It's very rare that she gets to come out to watch Ethan play for Michigan. It's not like she hasn’t been watching him play their entire lives. Even when she wasn’t allowed to go out and watch him play.

One time when she was grounded at 13, she snuck out of the house to go watch him play despite knowing both of Ethan’s parents were at the game. They didn’t snitch on her though. She was thankful because she got to watch him score two goals and get an assist on the game winner. She's been like a daughter to them since she and Ethan met in preschool.

Slowly, the players make their way off the ice and she finds her way to the hallway with the door that leads to the locker rooms. She leans against the wall outside the door because she doesn’t want to see something that would scar her for life.

She shoots Ethan a text so he knows she’s waiting for him. He doesn’t respond so she assumes he’s either talking to his coach or taking his postgame shower.

To keep busy, she scrolls through her social media and likes a few posts. She tweets pictures of Ethan on the ice when he was warming up and when he scored a goal in the second period. They quickly begin to circulate on Twitter and Instagram.

The door opens and some of Ethan’s teammates begin to start walking out with their wet hair and casual clothes on. Some of them say hi and that it's nice to see her as they walk past. Rutger tells her that Ethan is coming out “soon”. Soon for Ethan Edwards is either five minutes or a half an hour.

“Soon” this time means ten minutes. Ethan comes out in a button up, his letter jacket, nice dress pants, and a Michigan beanie. “Hey,” he says. “Glad you could make it. Sorry I didn’t get to see you before the game started.”

She smiles and gives him a side hug. One of his arms drapes over her shoulders and her arm wraps around his waist. “I’m here for a few days so you can make it up to me,” she tells him. “What do you think of the jersey? Stole it from your closet after Seamus let me into the house.”

Ethan backs away and looks at (Y/N) in his jersey. She turns in a slow circle so he can get a good look at her in the jersey. “Looks better on you than it does on me,” he admits. “Good to know that you still rock my name and number on your back.”

(Y/N) laughs but she wishes she could rock his name in another way. “So what’s the plan for tonight?” she asks. “Just hang out? Watch a movie? Show me around Ann Arbor?”

Before he can respond, a girl comes running up from behind Ethan and jumps on his back. She wraps herself around him. “That was a sexy goal you scored tonight, Eddy,” she says into his ear. “Looked good doing it too.”

Ethan smiles and turns his head to look at the girl in the Michigan hockey hoodie. “You think so?”

“Know so,” she giggles. “You’re so hot when you put the puck in the back of the net.” The girl begins pressing kisses against his jaw. He laughs and (Y/N) bites her bottom lip so she doesn’t say anything. It takes everything not to say some snarky comment.

She knows girls constantly throw themselves at him. Ethan isn't afraid to call her after one of his one night stands. He is one of the most attractive guys she knows, he’s super smart, and one of the most talented hockey players that she's ever seen play. He knows it too and doesn't shy away from the attention.

It isn’t a secret that girls on this campus want to hook up with him or be with him.

What is a secret is her feelings for her best friend. She is no better than the girls that throw themselves at Ethan. If she could then she would, but they’re friends and that would be crossing a line that shouldn’t be crossed. There's no going back if that line gets crossed.

And she's terrified of crossing that line. It doesn't mean she doesn't get jealous of other girls that tell Ethan how sexy he is and how good he looks when he scores goals without crossing that line. She wishes she could be one of those girls that gets to throw herself at him.

"You and your teammates should come to the party that happening at the house tonight," she suggests. "I think it would be super fun to hang out with the hockey team. To hang out with you. You can even bring your little friend here. She looks like she could use a good party." The girl looks her up and down in Ethan's jersey.

That last comment really pisses her off though. She completely loses her filter, and she's not even sorry.

"Who do you think you're talking to?" she asks, eyes boring into the girl on Ethan's back. "You can hop right off my boy's back now and find someone else to fuck tonight because I promise you that he isn't interested in fucking you. Bye bye." She waves goodbye to put some emphasis on her words.

The girl lowers herself back to the ground with a roll of her eyes. Ethan looks between the nameless girl and (Y/N) as the nameless girl shoulder tackles her. She resists every urge to punch this girl in the face despite the pain in her shoulder as she walks away.

She looks back at Ethan when the nameless girl leaves the arena. She follows her outside so they can go home after a minute. He blinks at her when they get in his car before he says, "I don't think I have ever seen you get like that."

"Like what?"

"So possessive," Ethan tells her as he starts his car. He pulls out of the parking spot and heads toward the house he lives in with Dylan, Tyler, and Luca. "Almost like you were jealous of her."

Her head snaps in his direction to look at him. "I wasn't jealous of her," she lies. "I was protecting you. The amount of calls I've gotten at two in the morning because you're upset that another girl left you in your bed is a little ridiculous."

"You're not wrong about that," he comments. "I guess it is ridiculous."

Every time Ethan's girl of the night leaves him after a party or bringing a girl back after a game, he calls his best friend and she gets to hear all about the sex or how he thought she was the one that wasn't going to leave him.

She's gotten very tired of it so she's taking a stand for him.

"So, you never told me what the plan was for the night since it's my first night in Ann Arbor," she says as Ethan turns out of the parking lot. "We could go to that party she was talking about if you want, or I'm perfectly okay with staying in tonight since you have another game tomorrow."

Ethan glances at her as she drives. "Is there something you'd like to do?" he asks. "You're here for a week so I'm also okay if you don't want to go out tonight. There will be parties during the week we can go to if you're okay with snacks and a movie or two. I'm pretty sure my roommates are going out tonight anyway so we'll have the house to ourselves to catch up."

Ideas flow through her head. She wants to do a lot in the next seven days that she's in Michigan before she heads back to Alberta.

Tonight though, she just wants to spend time with Ethan without worrying about which girl is going to throw herself at him next.

"Movie night with snacks sounds really nice," she eventually tells him.

He smiles and makes a turn. "You can look through my Netflix when we get back to the house," he tell her. "I need to take a longer shower when we get back so while I'm in the bathroom, you can find a movie that we can watch."

She nods and scrolls through her phone while Ethan drives. It's not a long drive from Yost to the house he shares with three of his closest friends and teammates. It's maybe ten minutes before Ethan pulls into the driveway. There are no other cars in the driveway so he was right about them having the house to themselves tonight.

A very excited (Y/N) gets out of the car and Ethan is quick to follow her. She has an idea of what movie she wants to watch but she has to check to make sure it's on Netflix before she gets too excited about it.

Ethan disappears into the bathroom that's attached to his bedroom. She disappears into the kitchen to gather some snacks for them to eat while they have their movie night.

She makes some popcorn but also puts together a candy bowl filled with M&Ms, Reese's Cups, mini Twix, and Hershey Kisses. Sweet and savory choices for them. She even grabs two cans of soda that are in the fridge so they have something to drink.

When she walks into Ethan's room with the bowls of snacks and cans of soda, he is walking out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. She has to look away before she stares at the water droplets rolling down his chest.

"Jesus, E," she gasps. She almost drops the snacks and drinks so she can cover her eyes. Ethan uses his hands to cover his crotch like she can see through the towel around his waist. "You couldn't have brought clothes into the bathroom with you?"

"I did," Ethan replies. "I forgot underwear. I opened the door so see if you were in here and you weren't so I wrapped a towel around myself. You were in here when I came out to put on underwear."

She glances at Ethan as he pulls up the pair of boxers over his waist. His back is to her so she admires him from behind for a second. His thighs are insane and every single back muscle works as he dresses himself. He turns his head to look at her as soon as he's wearing a shirt again. She quickly looks at the snacks in her hands to act like she wasn't watching him get dressed.

"Warn a girl before you walk into a room with nothing but a towel on, Ethan," she tells him as she sets the bowls and cans down on the table next to his bed. She crawls onto the mattress and grabs the TV remote.

"It's not like you haven't seen me naked before," he says.

"It has been literally like fifteen years since I saw you naked," she retorts. "It's your fault we were even in that situation because you decided to cover both of us in mud. Your mother decided that it would be funny to bathe us together."

Ethan laughs and crawls onto his bed next to her. "My bad," he says. "Anyway. Did you find a movie to watch or are we winging it?"

She loads his Netflix account and replies, "I think I know what I want to watch but I have to make sure it's still on here. If it's not then we'll wing it."

"Okay," he slowly says. "What movie?"

As soon as he asks, My Best Friend's Wedding pops up when she goes into the romance movies section. Ethan raises his eyebrows and looks over at her when she clicks it. "Seriously?"

"What?" she asks. "It's a romcom. I know you don't watch many of those so I thought we could watch one of my favorite ones." Ethan frowns. "Come on, E. You'll love it. I promise."

He sighs as the movie begins to play. “If I hate it then we are going to watch Miracle or Mighty Ducks,” he tells her. Sounds like a plan to her so she nods in agreement.

She hands Ethan his soda and he cracks it open.

Picking My Best Friend's Wedding was kind of a hint in a way since Julia Roberts' character is in love with her best friend, who is marrying someone else. She didn't lie when she said it's one of her favorite romcoms though. She adores this movie and loves Julia Roberts.

He seems very into the movie though. Not once does he complain about how stupid it is. It's throwing her off a little bit.

Ethan reaches over her to grab one of the snack bowls around what she thinks is the halfway point of the movie. "I could've given it to you, asshole," she tells him. "You didn't have to reach over me when I'm trying to watch the movie."

"I just wanted some candy," he replies with a mouthful of chocolate. "I need to munch while watching the movie, (Y/N)."

She laughs and looks over at him as he stuffs a Reese's Cup in his mouth. She steals one of the Hershey Kisses out of the bowl and tosses it into her mouth. Ethan smiles and does the same. She shakes her head and goes back to watching the movie.

As she watches one of her favorite scenes toward the end of the movie, she's slightly on edge. She's very still the entire time. It's the scene where Julia Roberts' character Jules tells her best friend Michael, played by Dermot Mulroney, that she is in love with him and they share a kiss.

When she quickly glances beside her at Ethan, she finds him already looking at her. She quickly turns her head and looks away from him. Her cheeks begin to heat up like she’s embarrassed that he caught her looking at him.

He catches her chin and turns her head back so she’s looking at him again before she’s fulling facing the movie.

“Eth-”

“Please don’t say anything or else I won’t be able to do this,” he says to interrupt her.

She raises her eyebrows in confusion as Ethan’s thumb brushes over her bottom lip. His eyes flicker down to her lips before moving back up to her eyes. The eye contact they’re holding makes her entire body shake with excitement and anticipation.

Ethan doesn’t make any moves. His eyes float and study every part of her face, taking in every detail that he can see in the mostly dark room.

Very hesitantly, she throws a leg over one of his thighs and she straddles his leg. Ethan pushes her hair behind her ear and cups her jaw.

The entire time, they hold each other’s eyes. The tips of their noses touch every time Ethan moves in then backs away like he’s unsure.

“Do something,” she whispers, desperate. Her hands rest on his chest. “Ethan. Kiss me.”

He wastes no time.

Ethan sits up and wraps his arms around her waist to pull her closer to him. He crashes his lips to hers like he’s done holding back. She leans into him and deepens the kiss, pushing him back until he’s sitting up against the headboard.

The movie is soon forgotten about behind her. All she can hear is her own heart pounding in her ears. She no longer had any idea of what is going on behind her because she’s so focused on what’s in front of her.

She feels Ethan’s hands slither up the back of the jersey she’s still wearing. She never took it off and switched to a pair of black Lululemon shorts after she took off her leggings. A smile forms on Ethan’s lips when he realizes that she still has on his jersey.

Ethan’s fingers run up and down her back at the same time hers find their way under Ethan’s Michigan hockey t-shirt. She presses her fingers into his abs and sighs. All she has wanted to do since Ethan built up the muscles he has now is touch them.

Now she can.

“Take it off,” Ethan mumbles into a kiss as he pulls at the jersey. “I love seeing you in it but it needs to come off right now."

She reaches down between them and pulls the jersey over her head, breaking the kiss in the process. When she gets the jersey off, she sees Ethan’s eyes are on her body. She bites her bottom lip and grabs the bottom of Ethan’s shirt.

Might as well get it off now before they get distracted again.

Ethan gets the cue and sits up. She pulls the thin fabric off of him and tosses it to the floor with the jersey. Her eyes meet his and she finds a hunger in them that she's never seen before.

Friends definitely don't look at friends that way so something is changing between them. Goosebumps form on her exposed skin as she realizes that this could be the beginning of something new. Their whole relationship is changing with every second and every touch.

He cups her jaw with both his hands and runs his thumbs over her cheekbones.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted you like this," Ethan softly confesses, looking between her eyes.

"I think I have an idea," she whispers as she leans in to connect their lips again.

Their lips make contact with each other and she presses her chest flush against his. In the process, she rolls her hips and grinds her clothed core on his thigh. She gasps at the pressure and Ethan's hands fly to her waist.

She tries it again and lets out a soft whine. She's surprised at how good it feels. Ethan smiles into the kiss as she begins to use his thigh to get off.

It makes sense to her that she would like this. She was just thinking about his thighs earlier when he was getting dressed.

The kiss breaks and she rests her forehead against Ethan's. Soft pants pass her swollen lips and Ethan smiles. "Gonna use my thigh to come?" he asks. "You gonna get off using my thigh, baby?"

"Mhm," she hums. "Feels good. Kind of in love with your thighs, E."

He laughs and helps her move her hips.

She can feel how muscular his thighs are through her shorts and his sweatpants. Just like she thought earlier - his thighs are insane.

A knot already forms in the pit of her belly. Her breathing has gotten very labored and she claws at Ethan's chest, definitely leaving behind some scratch marks he'll get teased for later by his teammates.

"Ethan," she breathes out. "Fuck."

He presses kisses to her jaw. "I got you," he tells her. "Go ahead. Come."

Almost like she was waiting for his permission, she comes with a cry. She ruins her panties and probably her shorts at the same time. Her fingers find Ethan's hair and she lightly grips his locks because she needs something to hold onto.

Ethan peppers her jaw and cheek with light kisses as she lays her head on his shoulder while she comes down from her high. He lightly brushes her hair out of her face and she hums a little "thank you".

"Feel better?" he asks. "Got it out of your system?"

She rolls her eyes and lifts her head as soon as she has enough strength to. "For now," she retorts. "Right now though, I need you to get inside of me because it's all I've been thinking about for years."

He smiles and quickly rolls them over so she's on her back. "Your wish is my command," he says as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of her ruined shorts and panties. "Hope you don't need to walk in the morning."

Her eyes widen as he pulls off the shorts and panties in one go. She lifts her hips off the bed to help him out. She's completely exposed to him now since she went without a bra under the jersey. She crosses her arms over her chest.

Ethan is quick to grab her hands and uncover her body. "Don't hide from me, baby," he tells her. "You're beautiful. I've always thought you were beautiful. You never have to hide from me."

She nods and Ethan gets on his knees between her legs. She watches as he pushes off his boxers and sweats. His dick pops out of his boxers and she bites her bottom lip.

Yeah, she’s not going to be able to walk in the morning. It really is a good thing she doesn’t have to go anywhere.

He leans over and reaches into his bedside table. He had a tiny silver package between his fingers when he comes back to hover over her.

“I need to make sure you are absolutely okay with this,” he says. “You aren’t going to regret this or anything like that. I don’t want you to think that I’m pressuring you-”

“Ethan, if you don’t fuck me in the next two seconds, I am going to get up and go find someone who will,” she interrupts.

His eyes darken when he makes the comment about going to find someone that will fuck her. “Oh hell no,” he mumbles before he tears the condom package open with his teeth. She smiles as he slides the condom onto himself.

Her fingers find a home in Ethan’s hair when he leans over her. She holds his locks from falling into his face since he does have longer hair. He lines himself up with her and meets her eyes. “I trust you, E,” she tells him. “I have always trusted you.” I love you.

With her reassurance, Ethan slowly pushes into her. She gasps and bites her lip. “Fuck, (Y/N),” he breathes out. “So tight. God.”

Being tired of hearing him talk, she leans up and presses her lips to his. She wraps her arms around his neck as he bottoms out in her. Ethan presses his hands into the pillows on either side of her head so he doesn’t crush her.

She rolls her hips so she feels Ethan move inside of her. A soft sigh passes her lips into the kiss. Ethan leans into her and deepens the kiss. Her fingers drag down his back as he finally begins to roll his hips so he moves in and out of her.

The sound of soft whines and moans fill the room until the sound of the bed creaking follows when Ethan speeds up his movements. She breaks the kiss and arches her back off the bed and Ethan kisses her chest.

“Such a good girl for me,” Ethan pants. “Making these pretty noises. Does my cock feel good inside you, baby?”

“S’ good,” she breathes out. “Feels so good, E. You make me feel so good. Fuck.”

He smiles against her skin. He pushes one of her legs up and lets it hook around his arm, and he’s able to move even deeper inside of her. She cries out in pleasure and her head begins to spin.

It’s been years since she realized that she was in love with her best friend. He is all she has wanted since they went to prom together in their senior year of high school.

Even if he doesn’t love her, the fact that he is on top of her means that he has to feel something for her.

Right?

This is a welcomed change in their relationship. Going from friends to this is welcomed.

Her legs begin to shake as her second orgasm of the night starts to build in her belly. Ethan changes his pace every so often but continuously moves deep into her so he’s completely inside of her.

She’s pretty sure her breasts are marked up because of the way Ethan keeps nipping and sucking at the skin. It doesn’t bother her.

Getting marked by Ethan is never going to bother her.

Ethan pulls out then slams into her. “Holy fuck,” she cries out. “Shit, E.”

“Just wanna make my girl feel good,” Ethan pants.

He does it again and she clenches around him. She comes without warning and with Ethan’s name on her lips. Her entire body shakes and her vision goes white.

It’s probably the hardest she has ever come in her life. No one has made her feel as good as Ethan has.

It must be a minute before she comes to because he has a cloth in his hand and is cleaning her up. Her breathing is extremely labored and her entire body feels heavy. He tosses the cloth to the floor with their clothes and she looks at the TV.

‘Are you still watching’ lights up the screen and she can’t help but smile at the realization of what just happened.

Ethan pulls the blankets over their naked bodies and asks, “What’s with the smile?”

She looks up at him and says, “I really liked it. I liked being able to touch and kiss you.”

“So, what I’m hearing is that you wouldn’t mind doing it again?” he questions.

“Absolutely not.”

A loud knock rings out throughout the room and Luca is on the other side as he says, “Walls are thin! I don’t feel like buying ear plugs so please keep it down! Also, it’s about damn time.”

She covers her mouth and laughs. Ethan rolls his eyes and gets comfortable. “I need to move out and get my own place.”

“I second that.”

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[halfvalid]

Hey! Since your requests are open, may I request opla!Zoro x reader (established relationship) where the reader has a lot of self doubt (not only in their looks, but their abilities and their place in the crew) since it’s, unfortunately, been shoved done their throat by pretty much eveyone they knew, even their parents, that they would never be good enough? Maybe Zoro figures out that they have sort of been spiralling lately and they have a talk about the readers past and the problems they’re facing and he comforts them? Maybe it ends sort of spicy or turns out full on spicy, if you’re comfortable with that!

daybreak

ABOUT

alternate title: some fluffy established relationship hurt/comfort to save my soul

rating: teen & up

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k (short; sorry!)

description: zoro notices you've been seeming off recently, and you confide in him your insecure feelings of self-worth. he comforts you.

tags: strawhat!reader, established relationship, fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, kissing, no use of ‘y/n’, soft zoro, ridiculously stupidly absolutely horrifyingly fluffy. 

author’s note: thank you so much for the very lovely request! i hope i did your prompt justice; i ended up not writing any spice at the end (just slightly suggestive) since i didn't think it fit the story but i hope you like it anyway ^^

it feels slightly ooc, but i also wrote it in the span of two hours at 1:00 am so can you really blame me. 

It was morning on the Going Merry, and you were cleaning up the wreckage that had been scattered along the deck in your last battle. The crew had gone up against some other pirates; it’d been late at night, and the attack had come suddenly, what you’d thought would be a peaceful docking turning combative quickly. 

You barely remembered the fight. One moment, the warning bell had sounded, and the next Zoro was rolling out of bed beside you, grabbing his swords and darting out of your bedroom before you could even register what was happening. The fight had gone in the Straw Hats’ favor, thankfully; Zoro, Luffy, and Sanji had fended off most of the threat, and you were back on the open sea, safe from enemies for at least a little while now. 

You let out a sigh as you swept shattered glass into a dustpan, shaking out the collected trash into a nearby empty barrel. None of the men usually bothered to start cleaning up—typical—so you’d pulled yourself out of bed as early as possible to get the ship looking a little more like normal. 

Zoro had left some corpses on the deck for you to deal with, and you’d had to toss them overboard, a grimace tugging at your lips as blood stained the white of your blouse. No matter. You’d finished sweeping, at least; all you had left to do was mop, right as everyone else was waking up. 

You filled a bucket with warm water and soap, and were just grabbing the mop from the closet when you heard footsteps. You glanced up, surprised to see Zoro heading towards you, one hand grasped loosely around his sword handle as always. “You’re up early,” he said, casual as ever. “Woke up and you were gone.” 

“Figured I should get a head start on cleaning,” you answered quickly, not meeting Zoro’s eyes as you dunked the mop into the bucket. His brows creased as he watched you start mopping, pushing the handle along the deck to wipe it clear of bloodstains. 

“How long have you been doing this?” Zoro asked, after a few seconds of delayed silence. You shrugged, dunking your mop again before going for another few swipes. “We can help clean too, you know.” 

“It’s the least I can do,” you protested. You moved past him, trying very hard not to meet his eyes—but Zoro didn’t let you pass, one hand going out to grab the mop rod and stopping you in your tracks. “What?” 

“What do you mean, least you could do?” Zoro asked blankly. 

“I mean—” you shrugged, muscles limp like your entire body was sagging you down. “You and the others were the ones to deal with the pirates, so I figured I could at least—”

Zoro still looked confused, brows pulled together, forehead taut with a frown. “I distinctly recall you throwing a pirate twice your size overboard. Unless I was imagining things.” 

You sighed. “Not what I meant.” You tried to push past Zoro again, but he didn’t let you, hand still tightly grasped around your mop handle. 

“Okay, what did you mean, then?” 

“Nothing. Will you just let me finish cleaning so there aren't blood stains all over Luffy’s ship?” You sighed again, even as you attempted to keep the sound inside—but you couldn’t help it. It was like there was an anchor stuck inside of you, pulling everything from your feelings to your body down, the weight of gravity tugging at your features. 

“Luffy’s ship?” 

You shrugged. “The Straw Hats’ ship. Whatever.” 

“Our ship,” Zoro said. There was a certain twinge of something in his words; still blankness, but laced with a dawning realization that you weren’t sure you liked. “You’re upset.” 

“Nope.” This time you really did manage to get free of Zoro’s grasp, yanking your mop out of his grip and starting back on cleaning the deck. The acrid smell of iron hit your nose as you scrubbed the dried blood off—you’d have to go back in later with a sponge to get all the cracks and crevices, but for now this would be okay. 

Zoro followed you, unceasing with his interrogation. “Yes, you are. I know when you’re upset, and you’re upset. What happened.” It was more of a statement than a question—Zoro didn’t often doubt himself, really, which was one of the many things that’d helped make you stumble into falling for him. “Was it about last night? You know the cook's just making fun when he keeps a counter, right? It doesn’t matter if he brought two or five more men down than you.” 

“It’s not about that,” you insisted. 

“So you admit you are upset.” 

You groaned, finally turning to look Zoro in the eye. He’d stopped walking, the dawning sun glinting hazey gold onto his skin in the early hour. There was still an overcast of blue from the night in the sky, and it made the heavens look ethereal, watery and glittering. 

“Come on,” he urged. “Just tell me what’s wrong.” 

“It’s really nothing you need to be concerned about,” you attempted, but your voice was weak now. Zoro stepped closer to you, gently pulling the mop out of your hands. Your fingers let go easily. “It’s silly.” 

Zoro gave you a look. “Out with it.” 

“I don’t know, I just—” your fingers clenched, like your hand was trying to find something to do now that Zoro had rid you of your mop. “Comparatively I just don’t do much. So I want to help out as much as possible.” 

“Who said you don’t do much?” 

“What?” 

“I don’t think I need to repeat myself,” Zoro said. He let the mop fall to the ground, arms crossing over his chest as he watched you. “Who said you don’t do much?”

“I mean, nobody. It’s just true.” You shrugged, distinctly uncomfortable with the way Zoro was looking at you—all attentive, like he was trying to strip you raw with his eyes, uncover whatever secrets might be hiding in the pores of your skin and the gaps of your teeth. “Luffy’s the captain, we wouldn’t be able to do anything without Nami, you and Sanji are the fighters, and Usopp’s everyone’s favorite. I’m just kind of… filler?” 

The more you spoke, the worse your words got, your tone turning more desperate as the sentences fumbled out of your mouth. Zoro’s eyebrows raised higher as you went on, and you flushed, red prickling all over your skin. 

“First of all,” he started, “Usopp is not my favorite. That’d be you. And—where are you getting this from?” 

You shook your head, trying to backtrack. “Nothing. Nowhere. It’s not that import—”

“Yes, it is, and we’re talking about it.” Zoro pulled a nearby barrel by the side of the ship, plopping himself down atop it and gesturing for you to sit. You didn’t, but you did move over to the railing, hands curling around the painted wood. “Speak.” 

“I have nothing to say,” you tried. Zoro just shot you an unimpressed look, and you squirmed. “Fine. I don’t know. I joined last, so I just figured… you were all kind of already set without me, right?” 

Zoro shook his head. “We’re a crew,” he said, voice strong but somehow still gentle. “You’re part of us for a reason. What, this entire time did you think you were—expendable?” 

You fidgeted uncomfortably, weight shifting from one leg to the other. “No.” 

“Don’t lie.” 

“Yes. No. I don’t know. Last night—I only got, like what, two guys? And you reacted way faster to the situation than I did,” you started, words flailing around on your tongue as they rushed out. It was indelicate, for certain, and you yourself couldn’t make sense of most of the words—but once you started, you couldn’t stop, even as they slurred together. “I was still getting out of bed and grabbing my weapon when you’d already dealt with half the enemy crew.” 

“Don’t compare yourself to me,” Zoro said with a shake of his head. “That’s not fair. I’ve been training since I was eight. It’s different.” 

You huffed out an exasperated breath, trying not to let your frustration get the best of you. “I can't help it sometimes. It’s a bad habit.” You loosened your grip on the ship railing, staring out at the golden clouds hovering over the sky.  “Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize,” Zoro answered. He didn’t say anything after that—giving you a space to talk, you supposed, in case you wanted to. But his hand did reach up to press against yours, pinky brushing against your finger as he held onto the railing beside you. 

“I guess I just always had these standards back at the village,” you managed out eventually. Your island had always been one of the more traditional places in the East Blue, and there were plenty rules and guidelines abound. One of the many reasons you’d left the place in favor for Luffy and the Going Merry, really. “So I just… always want to do more. It’s not that bad.” 

“Right.” Zoro’s pinky looped around your finger, now, holding it close in a soft kiss of the hands. You sighed. 

“My parents were kind of rough on me, I guess,” you tried, sneaking a glance over at Zoro’s face to see if it satiated his curiosity at all. His expression remained as steel as ever, so you just continued. “They wanted me to be the best I could. But their standards were too high, even when I was little.” You found yourself rubbing circles into the back of Zoro’s hand with your finger, more so to comfort yourself than for any other reason. “Just normal stuff, like being upset about my school grades or my combat training levels being too low. Nothing that terrible.” 

“But…?” Zoro asked, tilting his head up to look at you. You smiled, but the action didn’t reach your eyes—it was all mouth and jaw, cheeks lifting but eyes glinting with the same glazed stare. 

“It just affected me a lot, I suppose,” you answered. “Always trying to get better. Never satisfied. And I guess now—I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll ever be good enough.” 

“For?” Zoro asked. His voice was low, soft, all hollow and empty inside. There was a tinge of roughness lacing it, like he’d forgotten to clear his throat, and the scratch of his vocal chords had surfaced up along with the words. 

“Myself. My parents. Luffy. You.” Your lips tightened into a line. Vaguely, you could feel the warm pinpricks of tears starting at your waterline, and you tried to will them back, letting out a little laugh. “Everyone, I guess.” 

Zoro’s hand had come to hold yours fully, fingers woven in between yours, thumb pressed firmly against the joint of your thumb. Somehow, that one motion managed to force the last of the words out of you—all wet and soft, eyes glued fiercely to the horizon in fear of seeing what was etched on Zoro’s face. 

“We do arranged marriages back at home,” you started, trying very hard to keep your voice from trembling. it worked only marginally—there was a tiny quaver in your tone, but it was soft, not noticeable unless you were really listening hard. “And my mom used to tell me I’d die alone. Because I wasn’t pretty enough, or smart enough, or anything enough for any of the boys there.” 

“Oh,” Zoro said. It was quiet; barely a whisper. You tried for a wry smile. 

“I like helping, though. I don’t mind cleaning up or whatever. It makes me feel more useful.” You tried to tug your hand out of Zoro’s grip, but his fingers tightened, keeping you in place. A nervous laugh escaped your throat. “And I know I’m part of the crew and all of this is just silly. So it’s really fine—”

Zoro tugged your intertwined hands to his chest, causing you to stumble and glance down at him in surprise. His expression was nearly unreadable. It’d darkened, and there was a contemplative gaze in his eyes, lips parted with invisible words perched on his tongue. “Don’t do that,” he whispered, and your stomach dropped, the nervousness that had gathered inside during the conversation tightening up into a hall. “Don’t say it’s okay or that it’s not important. If it’s making you upset, then it matters.” 

“I guess,” you tried, and Zoro’s gaze lifted to fix you with a glare. “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay, I just…” Zoro shook his head. “Look, whatever your parents used to tell you, whatever you have ingrained in your head—it’s not true. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting to do more, but… you don’t have to do it. You’re enough already.” 

Your gaze softened, lips falling open to say something, but Zoro wasn’t finished yet. “You shouldn’t come out here and force yourself to clean up just to make up for your—waste of space, or something. You’re not a servant. And you’re not wasting up any space. I think everyone would agree that you’re a very important and vital part of the crew.” 

“Thanks,” you whispered. Zoro’s hand was warm around yours, and you felt the threatening droplets of tears start to rise up at your waterline, ready to fall at any moment now. Zoro just nodded. 

“You’re a great fighter, and way smarter than what you give yourself credit for,” he said firmly. He raised your hand to his mouth, then, leaning over to press a feather-light kiss to your knuckles. “And the boys on your island have to be blind, because you’re pretty enough. You’re more than pretty enough.”

He whispered the last words, all soft and sacred on his tongue. “You’re beautiful.” 

That was enough to drive your tears over the edge. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to stop the flow as the warm sensation of liquid streaking down your cheeks began. Droplets caught in the crevice of your lips, and at the hinge of your jaw—Zoro brought a hand up to wipe them away. “Are you okay?” he whispered. 

“Yeah, I just, um.” You shook your head, sniffing. “Thank you. That… helped. I think.” 

Zoro bummed out his response. “Of course,” he said easily. “You’re my girl. It’s my job to cheer you up.” He kissed your knuckles again. “And you can talk to any of us. I’m not really the best at this, but everyone else…” he shrugged. 

“You’re doing just fine,” you assured him. Zoro nodded, tugging you down until you finally took a seat on a crate beside him. “I think it’s just been worse lately.” 

“If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re better than the waiter,” Zoro said. You just laughed. 

“I think you’re biased, but thank you,” you said. “Here, I, um, I promise I’ll let you know if I’m feeling down, I guess. If you don’t mind.” 

“Definitely don’t mind,” Zoro answered. This time he placed a gentle kiss on your neck, somewhere at the bottom near the back. “Leave the mopping for someone else. You’ve already done a lot.” 

“Okay,” you whispered, eyes fluttering closed as Zoro kissed the rest of the way up the back of your neck. He placed a final one right below your earlobe. With that, Zoro stood up, sweeping one arm under your legs and hoisting you up. You cracked open an eye to regard him with a blank look. “What are you doing?” 

“Bringing you back to my room,” Zoro answered. “You didn’t get much sleep tonight. And I doubt anyone wants to watch me kissing you on the main deck anyway.” 

That was fair enough reasoning, so you didn’t complain, letting him carry you all the way to his cabin and gently lay you down onto his bed. He leaned over to press a gentle kiss to your lips—you could still taste the saltwater from your tears from before. “Want me to stay?” Zoro asked. 

“You don’t have to,” you said automatically, and Zoro raised both his eyebrows. You let out a sigh. “Okay, I get it. Yes. Please stay.” 

“All you had to say,” Zoro said, shedding himself of his shoes and swords before leaning over the bed to watch you. He didn’t slip under the covers or anything, just propped an arm up on the mattress, kneeling beside the bed. There was tender silence for a few moments before Zoro spoke again. 

“I love you,” he said abruptly, voice rough but somehow still soft. Your heart beat too fast in your chest, ribcage squeezing in on the organ and making it skip. His hand slid along the mattress to find yours, and you took the offer, fingers clasping around his palm. 

“I love you too,” you whispered back. Zoe leaned over, then, the hand not intertwined with yours tilting your jaw over just so to allow him better access to your mouth. He kissed you full-on, tender but firm, mouth working against yours in a way that unraveled you entirely. Your grip on his hand tightened as he deepened the kiss, a soft sound emitting from low in your throat. Finally you broke apart, heaving for breath, exhales mixing together midair. An exchange of souls, you’d heard once, somewhere. 

“Come on,” you murmured, tugging Zoro closer to the bed so he got the hint. He slipped beside you onto it, turning your head again to meet you in another kiss. His hand drifted down to your waist, holding you securely in place.  

“I don’t think anyone should need us for a few more hours, right?” Zoro asked, and you laughed. He swallowed up the sounds with his mouth, tongue licking languidly into you as he rubbed delicate circles into the skin of your waist. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and then he was kissing you again. 

You let him siphon the soul out of your lungs, knowing you were getting his right back. 

© halfvalid 2023