#this book made me feel so fucking much dude

[blujayonthewing]

reading this book on urban exploration and also stumbling onto a youtuber who is doing (and explaining!) literal ancient alchemy is doing something to my brain chemistry (positive)

[angeltrapz]

hi I am back!!!! camping was. uh. a bit of a shitshow admittedly but we're all doing okay now (my sister had fun and that's what's most important to me tbh <3)

[murdrdocs]

masturbation mention; handjobs; college!art; fem!reader; no spoilers MDNI 18+ w/ ART DOANLDSON

when art donaldson gets a boner, it's nearly impossible for it to go down. he's tried everything in the book. well, everything in patrick's book—taking a cold shower, thinking about his grandmother in her underwear, changing his position. but nothing has ever worked, leaving him to excuse himself at inconvenient times so he could fist his cock until he was satisfied.

but being here with you, art can't do that. he's already flaked on your study sessions one too many times and he really, really doesn't want to have to flake again. for a reason as trivial and embarrassing as a boner at that.

he really didn't mean for it to happen. but he just happens to be in your space, surrounded by your trinkets, watching you move around in a pair of shorts that reminded him of the pair tashi wore that night. which got him thinking about the situation he was in just a year ago. which made him imagine you and him in a situation similar, perhaps even with tashi and patrick there.

you're speaking to him. your hands are moving in patterns that art should recognize, and you're lips are moving, too. but he's distant. distracted.

he blinks twice, shaking the overgrown blond curls out of his face as he fixes his gaze on you again.

"'m ... i'm sorry. what were you saying?"

you drop your hands and place them in your lap. you look disappointed.

"dude. i'm really trying to pass this midterm."

art drops his head. he initially does it in an act of shame, but then he notices your hands resting along your glistening skin and he's suddenly made aware of his boner once more. he groans, resting his elbows into the decorative pillow covering his lap as he covers his face with his hands.

"i know, i know. i'm really, really sorry." he sniffs, straightens up, and focuses all of his attention on studying with you. but now it's you who's distracted.

you tilt your head and eye him up and down. art, worrying that you might have fucking x-ray vision or something, adjusts the way he’s sitting. he thinks he's being casual, but then he clears his throat and looks off to the side and he can hear your small 'oh'.

“haven’t tried thinking about your grandmother?”

art, embarrassed at having been caught, says nothing.

“want me to help you out?” you offer. you say it like a joke, so art laughs. but then you don’t laugh, too.

you’re staring at him, a small smile on your lips as you push your weight into your hands behind you. the twin XL bed can only allow so much room, so even as you’re leaning away from him art feels like you’re right there.

“you’re joking, right?”

you take a second, and then you shake your head.

and that’s how art ends up digging his hands into your sheets as he watches your hand glide over his cock through heavy eyes.

you’re sitting with your feet tucked under your butt, one hand scratching through art’s hair and the other working on his cock.

art’s free hand is pressing into the line of skin between your top and shorts.

you’re doing so well, making him feel so good, but you still ask for confirmation through a low voice.

“does this feel good?”

and your face is so much closer to him than he thought. your voice is right next to his ear. it travels down through him, making even more blood rush to his cock if even possible.

art nods, tearing his eyes away from your hand wrapped around his cock to look at you. but you’re already looking at him, your hand pulling on a loose curl of his while you smile. art smiles back, just before you pull him closer and press your lips to his.

kissing distracts you, so art takes over. he shifts his cock up into your hand, doing the work for you. he circles his hand around your back and pulls you closer until he can feel your breasts pushing against his arm through your shirt. whatever bra you’re wearing must be thin, because art can feel your nipples poking him.

he means to warn you. he wants to let you know before it happens. but you regain some of your focus and your thumb presses into his tip, and he’s thinking about how you told him he had a pretty dick, and he can feel your tits and suddenly his hips are lifting and cock is twitching and he’s cumming all over your hand and his thighs.

[yutasbellybuttonpiercing]

slowly, i'm going down

access full masterlist here!

pairing: song mingi x reader (no pronouns mentioned, reader has female anatomy)

au/genre: college!au, tutor!reader, mingi does not give a shit about studying, smut

word count: 4816 words

warnings: voice kink (AHHHHH), oral and fingering (reader receiving), reader is a little mean, kitchen sex, anime references, cringe, a joke about adhd, dirty talk... um..., oh right Mingi has a big dick (wbk), everyone's a little silly, unprotected sex (boo ‼️👎🏻), premature ejaculation almost, creampie, cum eating... (not reader...), i think that's it. NOT PROOF READ YET!!

synopsis: mingi hates studying, but what he hates way more than that is being perceived as stupid. what mingi loves on the other hand, are pretty people getting flustered about his voice

or

mingi shows you exactly what he hates and loves.

a/n: i was almost ready when i saw this tiktok and it completely blocked my mind because it's SO FUNNY, but at the same time, it's men being dudes, dudes being bros, and that kind of made it hard for me to continue. i apologize for the 24h delay 😞

taglist: @byuntrash101 @goquokka @ashwoodforest @choisansnotsolegalwife

Mingi is not one to sit there and look at books. Or papers. Or anything that doesn't move and feed his brain with bright colors and his ears with noises, really. He prefers to vibe, and studying is definitely not the vibe. Sadly, studying is a part of his life as a university student. Yes, he chose this path for himself and yes, he was aware that it would involve studying. Still, now that it's really happening and is not just an obstacle to overcome in the far, far future, Mingi kind of wishes he'd chosen something else to do with his life. It's just exhausting, why would he waste the precious time he has left on planet earth on something that doesn't get the serotonin floating? He's pretty sure he has some undiagnosed ADHD simmering up there, but who is he to judge that? He's certainly not studying to become a doctor or whatever.

Anyway, given the fact that Mingi doesn't like to study, he's not had much experience with it in the first place. He's barely gotten his way through school, but uni is a different level. Hence, he needs someone to 1) teach him how to study and 2) make him study, or rather: have a judging eye on him while he is supposed to study, so the fear of being called out on it may light a fire under his ass and force him to bury his nose between the stinky pages of an old library book (on that note: he also needed someone to show him how to check out books from the library).

And that's why you are here, every Thursday afternoon, sitting at the sad excuse of a kitchen counter slash dining table in Mingi's scandalously expensive apartment given its size, growling next to him every time you catch him analyzing the bumps on his wallpapers instead of the letters on the pages.

Mingi generally likes you, even though you are a bit scary, he has to admit, or maybe that's the appeal. You are polite, but you have a way of looking at him that makes him feel like he's getting mansplained by your eyes. Your taunting gaze on him makes him feel small, and he doesn't like that at all. It makes him feel like all these years of drinking milk to make him stand at the 1.84m he is at today were in vain. You always have that one expression on your face, and maybe that's just Mingi's subconsciousness telling him to STUDY HARD FOR GOD'S SAKE, but in the way your eyebrows would scrunch together just the tiniest bit, he reads: God, he is fucking stupid.

He doesn't know which (since he did not pay attention in biology class, nor is he even sure they teach that in biology class) chemical in his brain suffers an allergic reaction every time you look at him like that, but there has to be one. There is nothing that Mingi hates more than being called stupid. Well, except for studying, maybe.

Call him lazy, call him a scalawag, call him witty for being able to get through all of school without reading a single one of the set books if you must, but do not call him stupid.

The only problem is that you haven't, well, called him stupid per se. It's just how Mingi interprets your stares. Also, he desperately needs you because he doubts there will be many other contestants that are okay with getting paid as little as you are (which is all Mingi has left by the end of a month full of Pokémon trading cards). So Mingi just has to sit back and relax and simply take it because, apparently, that's what he gets for not studying his entire life.

A loud ringing wakes Mingi from his peaceful afternoon nap - one that he has really earned this time around, he managed to look through his study notes for a full 20 minutes during his lunch break!

Disoriented, Mingi raises his head to make out his location and what year he is in. It rings again. Slowly, Mingi recognizes the shrill sound as his door bell. He slowly gets up, a quick glance in the mirror tells him that his hair is an absolute mess (which is really a crowning achievement given his buzz cut length) and he has imprint marks from his blanket all over his right cheek, but his sleepy mind doesn't even take it in. Mingi furrows his brows and shakes his head. Who would dare to disturb his peaceful slumber at this ungodly hour (4pm)?

The answer, of course, stands right in front of his door. With your arms crossed and the tip of your shoe drumming a dent into Mingi's "come in if you're a silly baka"-door mat, you raise an unimpressed brow at the sleepy shell of Mingi that blinks one eye after the other.

A few seconds pass until Mingi finally realizes who you are, and his mouth forms an 'o'-shape. Immediately after, he furrows his brows once again, his body slumping forward a bit because: why on God's green earth are you here? Then, it hits him like a truck, the aftermath of the collision blowing the remaining sleep out of his eyes: it's Thursday afternoon!

"Sorry," he says and sheepishly scratches the back of his head, then steps aside to let you enter.

"It's fine, it's only freezing cold outside," you stare at him before stepping in, shudder as you kick your shoes off, slip into Mingi's guest slippers and hurry inside. Mingi's brain does not register the sarcasm drenching your words.

"Let's get to it, shall we?" You ask as Mingi finally manages to follow you into the kitchen. You sit, take out a few sheets of paper from your backpack, then look over questioningly as Mingi has not even moved a millimeter, but instead started yawning like his life depends on it. Your eyes drift down his body. "Or maybe after you've put on some pants?"

Mingi freezes, looks down to confirm that, indeed, he's not wearing pants, but Naruto boxer shorts, then covers his crotch with his hands and buzzes off into his room.

Minutes later, Mingi reenters the kitchen, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips that, yes, he checked twice if he's wearing them the right way around. As mentioned, he is generally unable to properly focus on his studies, but today, it's exceptionally bad. Of course, you'd notice.

"Mingi, are you okay?" There's worry in your eyes – a sight Mingi has not seen. Ever.

"I'm fine, just tired," he mumbles, eyes unfocusing as he stares ahead.

"Yeah, you are? Why?" Mingi's tired mind cannot question why you suddenly seem so interested in his well-being. He also doesn't put any meaning into why you're scooting closer to him, your forearm accidentally touching his.

"I studied during my lunch break," Mingi informs you, a little, proud smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Something tingles inside his chest as you carefully place your hand on his arm. As he looks over at you, you smile at him, and he notices your gaze flickering down to his lips for a second.

Hold on. Mingi's mind suddenly snaps out of its hazy state and works on overdrive. He might be the type to vibe, the type to just let things play out, but he'd be damned if he didn't notice when someone likes him like that. He suddenly notices the way you started creating skin-on-skin contact with him, the way you want to be closer to him, eyeing him even more than you ever did before. Just... why? Is it because you saw him in his Anime panties?

A few moments pass, and you sit back, then pat your pencil against the book to remind him of the reason why you're actually here. Mingi groans, admittedly a little dramatically and unreasonably erotic, brushing a hand through his hair to flex his biceps right in front of your face. You seem unimpressed.

"Well, fuck me," he chuckles deeply, the rasp in his voice more evident than usual due to his nap. It's then when you tense, he notices from the corner of his eye. Oh. Okay. So it's the voice?

"I'm really glad you're tutoring me, you know?" He purrs, throwing in a little praise to get you extra bothered, and you simply breathe out nervously.

"Heh, no worries," you brush him off. Mingi decides that, for now, he's made you suffer enough and keeps quiet. Instead, he focusses on his studies, although he's already planning his next step to terrorize you with the sultry rasp his vocal cords are gifted with.

"Mingi, focus-"

"No, I get what I have to do, the contents just won't stay in my head." Mingi reasons, his voice unusually, but not by chance, high pitched, eyebrows scrunched as to why the hell he has to do this before doing that only to do whatever next when it wasn't like this for the other exercise he had to do minutes prior. He is not stupid (!), he does understand how this works. It's just that it doesn't make sense, and that is surely not his fault.

"Are you stup-" you start, but shut your mouth before you're even able to call him the dumbest fucker you've ever crossed paths with. Mingi inhales sharply. Oh, oh, you're lucky he is patient, and you're lucky he knows that as soon as he growled a few dirty words into your ear, you'd slam your upper body on the counter without regards of caution, pushing your panties down under your skirt and begging him to take you right there - or at least, that's what he imagines.

Yes, Mingi is super patient, that's just what comes with the entire vibe-personality package, so he does not dump your cute sorry ass on his baka-door mat, but simply closes his pen, lays it on the table and looks at you. A fabulous idea plops into his mind.

"God," he groans as deeply as he can, stretching his arms over his head, "I guess I'm just a little" - he throws in a little moany sigh - "a little distracted today."

"A-are you?" You nod, biting your lip subconsciously. Mingi looks at you without moving his head. "Why?"

"Well, just stuff, you know?" Mingi enjoys how the rumble in his voice makes his throat and - obviously - you feel. "There's just a lot, going on. Like big... big stuff. Stuff that just keeps coming and coming, in and out, just like that. Ugh, I wish I could just let all this frustration out you know, all this pent up stuff." He watches for your reaction.

Unmistakably, your hand holding your own pen in a relaxed manner mere seconds ago now desperately grasps the poor objects until your knuckles turn white, your breathing is uneven and loud as if you'd just ran the entire way from Mingi's place to the next convenience store (seriously, why the fuck is he paying so much for this godforsaken apartment?). And - Mingi's favorite reaction to him ever: you're pressing your thighs together.

Oh, how Mingi loves himself a good reaction like this.

"Big stuff, huh?" Your voice trembles as your nervous eyes search for his. "H-how big?"

"Oh, really big. Just really fucking big," Mingi confirms with a slight smirk. He loves how you just fold easily like that. One second, you're over there feeling superior on your little throne of knowledge that Mingi lacks, and the next, you're making a little mess in your panties just because Mingi so much as spoke. Absolutely incredible. People should start calling him "the rizzler".

"I think-" you clear your throat, "I think I should head home then?"

Mingi smiles to himself as soon as you turn away to pack your stuff into your backpack. His hands automatically reach out to play with his pen, his long, slender fingers toying with the object, inevitably drawing your attention to the movements. "Already?"

"Mhm." You stare a second too long, gulp, then hastily stuff your belongings into the big compartment of the backpack, Mingi listens to the sweet melody of stressed breathing and papers crunching.

As amused as he is, he decides that it is time for the big reveal.

"Keep it in your pants, baby" he looks over, his eyebrow halfway raised, and stops rocking back and forth and fiddling with the pencil as you freeze in your tracks and stop packing. "What?"

Slowly, you turn your head to look at him. "So you know?" You manage to squeak.

Mingi smugly pushes his tongue into his cheek. He loves how you're basically vibrating out of nervousness. "Oh, I know."

You sigh, hands finally letting go of your stuff and motioning defeat. He wonders what's going on in your mind right now. Are you afraid he's going to call you out? That he's going to make fun of you? That he's going to call you a needy slut and send you home? Or are you wondering if he's going to give you what you want? Mingi loves this game.

That's why he decides to make your situation a little more miserable.

"I also know that you think I'm stupid," he explains calmly, trying his best to no longer show any excitement, smugness, or any emotion whatsoever on his sharp facial features to really confuse you. Well, that's what you're getting for (almost) calling The Song Mingi stupid. Just a little payback, is all. He's not going to go so far and make you cry. No, no, Mingi can't handle when people cry, much less so if it's because of him.

Nevertheless, your breath hitches. Oh, you're fully aware that he didn't like you calling him that at all. Oh, how the gears are turning behind your forehead as you're trying to figure out what's going on, and what's going to go on in the next minutes.

"Thought so," Mingi deadpans. Yeah, that's right. Look how smart he is now! Super smart! He's got you all figured out. He knows exactly what to say and how to act to make you feel - and, fuck, does this feel like redemption - stupid.

"I'm sorry-" you start, back facing Mingi's form, but Mingi is not here for it. Mingi has gotten what Mingi wants. Mingi feels as powerful as he imagines a lion to feel, like, every day.

"Dumb fucks good," he simply states, just putting it out there, throwing it into the room for you to do with that statement whatever you like. Mingi's mind is already satisfied, his ego stroked because he's just proven that he isn't dumb. Although... he wouldn't mind a little diddling because, if he's being honest, you're hot as fuck and seeing you react to him in this way- well, he's also just a man!

"What?" You probably think you must've terribly misheard him as you whip your head around to face the confident Mingi smugly leaned back in his chair. Your eyes meet his, and he is sure that you now realize that, no, you definitely did not mishear him. That was exactly what he said.

In the blink of an eye, Mingi feels your presence on his lap, a last final look into his eyes before he feels your lips against his, desperately chewing away the remaining air separating his spit from yours. It's messy, lips colliding, too much teeth and tongue, but it's all raw and desperate. Mingi gets the vibes that you may have had some pent up want for him, but that's honestly the last clear thought he can muster before you grind your hips against his.

A deep groan escapes Mingi's lips, inevitably echoing against your own quiet gasps that just turn louder with every movement of your hips, your hands frantically trying to touch him everywhere at once to the point where he has to grab your arms and pull you back. Your eyes, wide. And confused, but somehow lidded and hazy at the same time struggle to take in Mingi in front of you. Yes, Mingi is aware of the effect of his siren eyes.

For another moment, he simply enjoys seeing how destroyed you look already, but honestly, there is just one thing on his mind.

"I'm gonna eat you out," he informs, waiting for you to nod frantically, whine and scramble off his lap for him to keep his promise. And you do, allowing Mingi to grab your waist with his large hands and lift you onto the counter. Of course, he can't resist getting another taste of your lips, almost losing himself in the soft pillows that frame your pretty mouth, but the hardness creating a tent in his sweatpants reminds him that he should possible attend a little lower.

Hence, he kisses his way over your cheek towards your jaw, then over your neck and down your collarbones. Mingi is not sure what your opinions on love bites are, so he just hopes you can remember him being right here and here and here even without visual proof, he can save that for next time.

Okay, Mingi admittedly was not able to hold himself back completely, his teeth only gently nipping at your skin on his way down. He simply hopes for the best, but your sounds seem to imply that you do not mind him one bit. Instead, you sound as if you wouldn't mind him taking a few bites more.

Impatient as you are, you assist Mingi in pushing your shirt out of the way, the straps of your bra automatically falling down your shoulders to reveal more of you to his hungry eyes.

And as much as Mingi would like to spend hours playing with your chest, he keeps it down to a minimum, kissing the soft flesh while gently pushing the remaining material out of the way for better access. His lips wrap around a nipple, his hands meanwhile busy with massaging the other and carefully holding your waist. God, Mingi loves boobs. But he might love the way your fingers comb through his hair and gently pull on it a bit more even.

Finally, the time has come, and Mingi kneels down on the floor. Pushing your skirt up, hands caressing your thighs, he creates eye contact with your eyes glazed over by lust and want. It doesn't even faze him that he hasn't cleaned these floors in weeks, honestly, he is in so deep he probably wouldn't even realize if the stove was on, lighting his study notes on fire.

He wants to tease you more, make you wait, maybe make you beg even, but he just feels too hungry to keep waiting. His fingers hook into the hem of your panties, pulling them down your legs as quickly as possible before spreading your legs and groaning in anticipation.

Throwing your thighs over his shoulders, he pulls you forward a little further, chuckling as you almost lose balance and smile at him. Okay, maybe Mingi feels a little tingle, and maybe that is not a horny tingle, but that's something to worry about later, if ever. Right now, he has a mission: dive in.

So that's what he does, obviously, planting a careful kiss right on your clit to wait for your reaction. And you do not disappoint, gasping slightly at the first sensation before getting louder and bolder the more Mingi tastes you.

His tongue gently parts your folds, getting a first taste of your juices. You basically cry out as his tongue prods at your hole, carefully easing its way inside to caress your walls.

Automatically, your hands fly to his hair, gently pulling at the roots to find a way to ground yourself, the feeling assumingely overwhelming, Mingi thinks, not to brag, but-

Mingi's eyes roll back at a particularly hard tug at his hair, paired with the way your hips grind closer until you're basically riding his face. Fuck, how are you so hot? Mingi's fingers grab hard at your thighs, loving the way the soft flesh feels in his hands.

To experiment a little more and, first and foremost, to get more rewarding reactions out of you, Mingi lets his mouth wander back up to your clit, gently sucking the nub between his lips, his tongue carefully flicking as not to overwhelm you. At the same time, a fingers sneaks its way over to circle your entrance.

Your throat coughs out a broken moan at this, your eyes switching between looking at Mingi's eyes and his mouth, and closing completely. Mingi loves taking in the pleasure written all over your face. He might not admit it, but he loves this kind of praise much more than verbal praise because your body really can't lie. He can literally taste how good he is at this.

He finally pushes his finger inside, loving how the wetness and muscle contractions are basically pulling him deeper and deeper until past his second knuckle. He feels around a little, trying to find the spots that seem to appeal to you the most, watching carefully how you react to each and every flick of his wrist.

Although, he feels that one finger is not enough to prepare you for the rest of him, so he adds another, massaging them into the spot that seems to be making you see stars with the way you grip his hair even tighter and mutter something he interprets as a warning that you're about to cum.

Keeping his pace, he successfully sends you over the edge, letting you ride out your high on his tongue before removing his lips, only getting his fingers massage the last clenches out of you.

Looking up he realizes you look, respectfully, wrecked, with your chest heaving, your hair a little messy and your eyes hazy and glossy, parted lips asking for his. And who is he to deny them, as he leans in to allow you to taste yourself. You seem to like it.

Pulling back after a while, he looks at you. You look so happy and relaxed like he's never seen before. For some reason, it reminds him of the weight in his pants that he suddenly feels the need to inform you about.

"You make me so hard," Mingi says lowly, carefully taking your hand to prove it to you, "feel." It's more your hand guiding his with how fast you reach down to feel him, eager to touch the outline of him through the sweatpants. And as if you're getting paid to stroke Mingi's ego even more, you gasp at his size.

Mingi can't help but smirk, of course, who wouldn't?

"Big stuff, huh?" You repeat your words from earlier, but this time no longer nervous, but cheeky as you bite your lip playfully. Oh, how Mingi would love to make you choke on his dick right now, just a little, and in a loving matter, but he's honestly waited long enough and he really just needs to be in you right now. And besides, Mingi is more in his giving > receiving era.

Instead, he grins. And he feels like there is something more.

Impatiently, you tug at his pants, successfully moving them a millimeter. Mingi helps you push his pants further down until it pools around his ankles. You giggle.

Damnit, Mingi. Why couldn't you've changed your underwear? Mingi mentally scolds himself, a good amount of his previously earned smugness flying out the window. Instead, he gives you kind of a sheepish look.

"I don't mind," you assure, tugging at his anime boxers next, "it's actually relieving to be reminded that you're still the cute, dorky Mingi and are not possessed by a sex demon."

"Incubus," Mingi points out.

"I don't fucking care. Just get this hideous thing off and have sex with me!"

Mingi does not need to be told twice, although he makes a mental note to scold you later for calling the one and only Naruto printed on a piece of fabric shielding his balls from the outside world hideous.

"God, fuck," you let out, and Mingi chuckles at your reaction to his naked lower half, "come here. Please."

You pull him closer, wrap your legs around him and beg him with your eyes. Mingi wastes not another second, aligning himself with your hole and slowly pushing forwards. Your eyes roll back as he enters you, causing you to hold onto him for dear life as he inches inside, filling you completely.

God, must your walls hug him so perfectly? Must you be so unbelievably wet just for him? Must you make these sounds? Mingi feels like he doesn't want to be inside anyone else ever again.

"I feel like I don't want to inside anything else ever again."

How did that get out there?

You chuckle, and have the nerve to pinch his cheek, as if he wasn't balls deep buried inside you right now. "You're so cute."

Cute?!

Mingi will show you cute. He grabs your jaw, admittedly still gently, and makes you look at him as he pulls almost all the way out until his tip catches at your entrance. "Cute?" And he pushes in all the way all at once. You moan, the feeling too much, too intense for you to still keep your eyes open. Helplessly, you cling to Mingi's body as he repeats the action 4 more times before setting a steady rhythm, angling his hips in a way that should stimulate the spot you liked so much earlier.

With your mouth hanging open and your eyebrows scrunched, you look like the prettiest thing Mingi's ever seen. He wants to see you drool, watch you completely lose your mind over nothing else but his cock. At the same time, he is surprised how good it feels. Well, not surprised that it feels good, but that it feels abnormally good, like he's about to nut in the next minute or so. Hopefully, he's able to coax another high out of you before that.

"What was it that riled you up so much earlier? My voice?" He growls, and you as much as whimper in return. "Yeah, like it that my voice is so deep?" You nod pathetically. "Cute."

"Mingi- 's so good."

"Yeah, am I fucking you good?" Mingi grins and you nod weakly, struggling to keep your eyes open. Mingi really shouldn't be the one talking big because honestly, he feels like if u moan one more time, if ur walls clench around him one more time, he is going to lose it. Something about this entire situation is just super surreal to him, or maybe it's simply you that is the reason for his premature high that is coming for him with fast steps.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, kissing your cheek before whispering, "can I please cum inside?"

"Shit, y-yes," you confirm, nodding quickly as you fight your hardest battle to keep your eyes open, focused and on the man that's currently grinding his tip into your sweet spot. Mingi feels like he loves you.

Mingi also feels like he's loosing his grip on reality, which is why he grabs your hips harder than before, using his strength to really slam his hips into yours with force, drowning his thoughts with the sounds of your moans. There is nothing on his mind except for you, you, you, and the primal need to make you his.

"Please," he groans, not quite sure what he's begging for, but it doesn't really matter in the end, does it? All that matters is that Mingi's ears catch the way you're begging him to cum for you, to fill you up, to please, please finish inside. He is not going to deny you that wish.

His hips stutter, his mind goes numb as he feels his muscles tighten and contract, releasing deep inside you. The feeling spreads in his body, feeling high and happy with such a forceful orgasm like this one.

Everything after is just a blur in his mind, he just remembers realizing that you didn't cum a second time, and he wouldn't be Mingi if he kept it that way. That's why he found himself back on his knees seconds after pulling out, sucking your clit back into his mouth, tasting his own release that's threatening to drip out if it wasn't for his fast fingers pumping in and out of you to push you over the edge.

It doesn't take long until you do, orgasm fueled by the lewd action of Mingi eating his own cum out of you, he assumes. Somehow, you two end up in his bed after, mostly because Mingi is a cuddler, partly because Mingi is not able to let you go yet. Or ever. Who knows.

© 2023 YUTASBELLYBUTTONPIERCING all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works.

[ronwestbreeze]

ROLE MODEL

pairing: rockstar!hobie brown x drummer!reader

summary: i just like the song lol

word count: 1k (drabble)

author's note: the rockstar!hobie brown idea was inspired by @murdrdocs drabbles. go check them out!

It’s crazy cuz’ he noticed you before you ever set your eyes on him.

The first time was the night before his gig. Hobie just happened to be pub hopping when he saw you smashing it on the drums. You were just so into it, so entranced by the music—him so entranced by you. Hobie just knew by then he had to find some way to talk to you. You were just something he could not see only just once and leave it at that.

No. Once wasn’t enough.

You saw him during one of his gigs. The way the purple and pink lights flashed upon his umber skin, his hair—god you loved the dreads—the piercings, the devilish smirk that just made your heart jump, and the way his hands expertly moved on the strings of his guitar, creating such an amazing sound that you loved so much. The guitar was your favorite instrument, unfortunately you found yourself best at the drums but someday you’d love to give the guitar a try. And look just as cool as this guy.

 Oh yeah, you were totally crushing on him the moment you first saw him. You wanted to talk to him—really you did—even your friend was trying to push you toward him after the show. You were confident on the drums, not asking dudes out.

All you knew was that you wouldn’t forget him or that night. You just weren’t sure if you would ever see him again.

Fuck, you blew your chance…

After that night, you found yourself now obsessed with his band’s music, sometimes catching hints of his singing voice here and there. God you were such a dork about it. Your friends liked to laugh about your little crush, but you were feeling absolutely stupid about it. Knowing that it probably wouldn’t ever happen.

Turns out the two of you lived in the same city. Hobie found you during one of his quick runs to the coffee shop. There he spotted you hunched over a table with a book of music notes and headphones on your ears. He thought about approaching you, introducing himself and all that, but unfortunately he was in a rush and could do nothing but briskly walk past you. Only to stop short when he heard a familiar song coming from your headphones. Just when Hobie was about to leave, you looked up at him.

Smooth as all can be, Hobie pointed to his ears, causing you to move part of your headphones so you could hear him say, “I like that song. You’ve got taste, yeah?”

Your smile made him smile just a bit, “I wouldn’t say all that. If you see my playlist you might change your mind.”

“Naah, I’ll show you mine and you show me yours.”

A chuckle left your lips, “Sure, sounds great.”

Hobie smirked, “I’m—”

“Hobie Brown. Yea, I saw you at one of your shows.”

Huh, you knew who he was. Hobie shouldn’t have been so giddy about this the way he was at that moment.

“You gonna tell me your name then?”

“Y/N.”

God your name was even prettier than he imagined.

You saw him again during a show near your old neighborhood. He even spotted you out in the crowd this time. Honestly, you couldn’t believe you had ran into him that day in the coffee shop, much less that he now knew your name. You pinched yourself multiple times just to make sure you hadn’t been dreaming about that interaction. And when the bruises appeared on your skin, your heart fluttered for hours. A giggly mess as embarrassing as it sounded.

When the show was over, you managed to leave out the side door of the venue only to find Hobie leaning against a wall with a cigarette in his mouth and black headphones around his neck. He looked up, a grin stretching his lips when he saw you.

“Thought I saw you in ‘ere.”

He stepped toward you as you grinned, “You were killer on that guitar you know, I’m almost envious.”

“Naah, I know you ain’t shit talkin’ when I saw you slammin’ it on em’ drums.” Hobie smirked when you grew visibly flustered. You didn’t know he had seen you play before. “Best drummer I’ve seen, I’ll tell ya.”

“Shut up, there’s way better.” You playfully rolled your eyes as you leaned on the brick wall next to him. You gestured to the headphones, “Got that playlist for me?”

Hobie smirked and placed them on your head, “This first song is why I picked up the strings in the first place.”

When the song played, when you heard the guitar, you immediately was engrossed into the song. Closing your eyes, listening closely to every instrument and every voice. For a second you had almost forgotten that Hobie was there watching you, his hand on the wall next to you and leaning on it.

You pointed to the headphones, “You’ve gotta show me how to play like this. Like you one day.”

“Yeah?” Hobie glanced from your lips and then back to your eyes, “What, d’you want private lessons? Cuz’ I think there’s room in me schedule. If ya ready for it.”

Instead of replying, you took your own headphones out and placed them on his head. “Here, you're gonna like this one.” When you played the song from your phone, Hobie didn’t close his eyes and get into the music like you had done. Instead he never broke eye contact with you and his head began bopping slightly.

You stepped forward and Hobie leaned closer. It was perfect how your lips easily fitted each other. How the smell of both cigarettes and cologne filled your nose, leaving you wanting more of it. How the softness of your lips only confirmed that he wouldn’t let you go so easily.

Both hands were on the wall and on either side of your head as he leaned further into the kiss. The music pounded in both of your ears, the night was loud and yet quiet at the same time.

There was a certain high that came from his touch. And there was a certain drug that he craved when it came to kissing you.

When the two of you broke apart to catch your breaths, he grinned down at you.

“It’s a date then.”

[c4qwp]

felix catton x fem!reader

| he falls hard for you

📎 tags : fluff, female reader, felix being older than you by a year, fanon of felix bc i’m such a bad writer guys, bad orthography, (my first post…), felix being a fucking cutie patootie, (y/n) not mentioned

📎 words count : oof idk but not a lot 💀🔥🔥🔥😜😜😜

📎 author's note : this is my first post (so first story), don’t hesitate to comment to help me to progress! english isn’t my first language, idk if felix is fanon but i tried my best to write him like i how i see him

felix was a charming, flirty, wealthy and captivating man. everyone loved him. everyone wanted to be around him. it exhausted him. people just wouldn't leave him alone. especially the girls. but he didn’t care about them, you were the exception.

you've only known felix for 6 months, but that hasn't stopped you from liking each other's personalities —and physiques. you're a new student from california studying at oxford, and the handsome british guy hasn't stopped coming to see you to find out more about you.

it all started with a laugh he heard in the hallway. a cute one he thought. and that's how he first saw you.

"hello?" you called loudly when you noticed eyes on you.

the sunlight illuminated felix perfectly as he met your gaze. you were just too cute. your doe eyes watching him while scanning him up and down due to his height.

"hey sorry- ive never seen you here before, are you new?" he asked.

as you were telling your friend to wait for you, an other guy appeared besides the stranger.

"felix where the fuck have you been mate??" a man with curly hair said.

"dude i’m busy let’s talk later" felix replied.

"hey sor-"

and you were gone.

felix didn’t even catch your name and it disappointed him. he likes to meet new people, even more when they’re cute like you.

a month passed after this rather short meeting. as you were revising in the library, a voice called out to you.

"oh hey arent you the new student?"

felix. you heard about him, only good thingd though. you’ve met him but his — pretty face, made you speechless. you felt shy in front of him. now there you are, sitting like an idiot and saying nothing. gosh.

"oh — uhmm hey!" you relied a bit nervously.

"hey! sorry i think we'd met before but hadn't talked more" he said.

"yes i remember." you introduced yourself and smiled.

"i’m felix catton nice to meet you as well" he smiled in turn.

"yeahh i heard about you, felix" you smirked and closed your book.

"oh yeah? i hope you've heard good things about me haha" he said.

"mmhh who knows?" you teased him.

while there was a small blank, he glimpsed your book.

"wait aint no way you’re reading harry potter?!" he said, trying to whisper as much as possible so as not to disturb the other students.

"way. i really like reading books. they're better than movies. and this is not the first time that i’m reading it." you replied.

"it’s my favorite book and it feels good to meet someone who thinks the same about it." he said with a big smile on his face.

it was getting late and you had to get back to your dorm to phone your best friend, who unfortunately wasn't at the same university as you. you exchanged phone numbers and then left.

one day.

one fucking day.

you two were apart for only a day. he sent you the first message and you answered them. he couldn't stop thinking about your smile, your eyes and your voice. it was the same for you.

even though you'd only been messaging each other for 2 weeks, he asked you if you wanted to go out somewhere. of course, you agreed and offered to go for a coffee to take a break from studying.

you put on a beautiful white summer dress that showed off your body.

‘i hope i’m not overdoing it...’ you thought.

03:17PM

"i’m so sorry for being late—…" you whispered to the man with a glass of soda against his lips, letting him know you were tired and done with the conversation. your eyes sparkling with joy, your lips curling up into a gleeful smile when you locked eyes with the person you had been craving to see all evening. he hadn't missed one night, not a single one. he was right on time. right there to stay with you, make you feel comfortable, talk to you all night.

you'd laugh, he'd watch.

he'd talk, you'd listen.

"no no don’t wo—" as he turned to answer you, he was stunned by your beauty.

his eyes wandered up and down your face. you noticed him and smiled at him.

‘i hate the way you make me feel — my chest begin to tighten when my eyes lock onto yours, yet i find it merely impossible to look away.’

[the-great-knight-gay]

Percy had a crush on Luke in TLT, in this essay I will-

No this is not a joke.

I am aware the Percy Jackson's Greek Heroes has alluded to Percy being heterosexual but I find that not being able to describe attractive men is not enough to be straight.

However, looking at the subtext between Luke and Percy's relationship in TLT, it shows clear signs of Percy basically hero worshipping the guy, in the same way Nico did with Percy. Main thing here is, Nico canonically had a crush on Percy that ran so deep that Cupid, the fucking god of love, literally described Percy as the person Nico cared for the most.

Now this does not instantly mean that Percy must have had a crush on Luke the same way but here is my evidence.

Percy (at that point) was starved of common decency from anyone but his mother

Look at the character relations in TLT.

From Book 1, other than his mother, Percy relations all had incredibly negative undertones.

Annabeth outright admitted to only joining him on the quest to get out of camp. They may have made up but that immediately put me off their entire relationship initially. I was a seriously anti-percabeth dude until Titan's Curse and this was one of the reasons.

Grover may have genuinely been Percy's friend but from the start, Percy found out that the only reason Grover was there was because of a job and not because they were friends. That eventually changed but at the beginning, it had to have been rocky.

Next up we have Chiron. Now while it was somewhat okay, albeit with manipulative undertones and an overall bluntness from Chiron, this was a purely teacher-student relationship.

Now we'll look at Percy in general. Percy was incredibly starved of affection from anyone but his mother. Coupled with an abusive stepfather, any act of kindness is amplified for him.

This is literally confirmed when Luke steals him toiletries. He feels that's the nicest thing anyone had done for him at that point.

Not only that, Luke personally taught Percy when everyone else was ignoring him like he was the plague.

Luke was literally Percy's only real friend for the majority of TLT. He literally recounted his entire quest to him during the Iris Message scene, a privilege he didn't even give to his mother. Plus, he was confirmed to blush around Luke almost as much as Annabeth and we all know how Annabeth used to think of Luke: 'Lose a love worse than death'

I personally think that there was no real reason for him to react so badly to Luke's betrayal other than this.

Okay, when I researched this by constantly rereading every Lukercy and Luke interaction or mention in TLT, I also came across another revelation.

This was one of the reasons why Percy was so determined not to fail Nico during TTC and BotL. He may have not known about Nico's crush on him but he definitely didn't want to be to Nico was Luke was to him.

[mae-gi-writes]

rile you up | lee Minho (xo kitty)

You’re Minho’s latest form of entertainment and he cannot just get enough of riling you up.

Genre: romcom, slice of life, school!au, minho is a little dick

———

“Fuck you, Minho.”

“What a ray of sunshine you are on this fine day.”

You grit your teeth together, almost grind them to nothing, and repeat the words with even more conviction, “I said fuck you.”

”Watch that tongue sunshine, might fall out if you’re not careful,” Minho’s grin just widens at the way your eyes have narrowed into slights. If looks could kill, he would’ve been shot int he head twice, revived, and shot once again. But thankfully for him, your narrow-eyed stare is nothing scarier than a cute kitten ready to take her claws out.

It’s a boring, rainy and muddy Wednesday afternoon and you really don’t want to be here, in English Lit, listening to professor Lau drone on and on about love and friendship in the verses of Lord Byron’s poems and how, if you read in-between the lines and analyze the intonations, the words, the onomatopieas, you’ll find a much deeper definition of Lord Byron’s feelings.

And Minho sitting right beside you is not making it much easier.

“You’ve got a pimple growing on your left cheek,” Minho squints at your face as you turn away, cupping your face with your hands as your eyes find the lock tick, tick, ticking at the far end of the classroom. Thirty more minutes of this torture.

“Can you just stop hyper-analyzing me like I’m some kind of lab rat?I’m really not in the mood for this right now.” You snap back.

“Woah,” Minho sighs before he shakes his head, “you really did wake up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

“And you, my friend, need to mind your own business.”

“Minho and Y/N.”

Professor Lau’s voice causes both of them to wince, physically, before looking up to see the said old man with bespectacled glasses, the book of poems in his hand and his eyebrows raised as though he expected better.

If you’re being honest, you really do enjoy Professor Lau’s classes, normally. Normally.

But not today. Today, you’re having a completely off day. You woke up late, you couldn’t sleep at all last night, and all the coffee had run out by the time you’d made it to campus. Your grades are suffering and you’re currently trying to ploughing through all the assignments without drowning.

And the worst of it all, you miss home.

You miss your mom. You miss your family, your brother with whom you would fight with at every occasion and play Mario kart with. You missed your grandma, your aunts, the food they cooked, the shared laughter, the smiles…

You’re in so deep in your thought process that you haven’t even registered that Professor Lau is telling you off until he calls for your name that brings you back to attention.

“—yes?” Your eyes flit up to Professor Lau’s and a wave of emotion suddenly takes its toll on you. You try hard to blink back the sudden burn of tears at the corner of your eyes, crawling up your throat.

“I was expecting better of your behaviour, miss Y/N,” he says, pointedly looking between you and Minho with pursed lips, “in my office after class. You’re up for cleaning duty.”

Great. That’s exactly what you need. After everything.

Fucking. Great.

———

“These pretty hands cannot clean,” these are Minho’s first words as the rest of the class files out to leave you two alone on cleaning duty and as you had predicted, there are papers all over the place, test papers and pens and pencils, “I’ve taken care of my hands all these years. I am not ruining it just to clean a classroom.”

“You are so freaking dramatic,” you roll your eyes, standing up to find the cleaning supplies that are stacked at the back of the class, in the storage closet, “let’s just get this over with and we can both move on with our lives and I won’t have to see you again for the rest of this week.”

“What’s up your arse, dude?” Minho follows you, one hand leaning on the doorframe as you start pulling out the duster, the cleaning rags and the shiny new broom that Professor Lau is currently obsessed with, “you’ve been acting really weird.”

“What?” You scoff, proceeding to hand him the broom because you know he’s never going to be the one on his hands and knees cleaning the floors, “I’m not. I’m just tired.”

“No, you’ve been acting off all week. You’re all snappy, your dark circles are so prominent you look like a walking zombie and you keep asking me to go fuck myself,” Minho rolls his eyes, “also, how do you use this?”

“Jesus chri—“ you make a move towards him, grabbing the hand holding the broom while struggling to circle his back and grabbing the other, “you keep that thing steady, then you brush the dirt from this one—“ you grip his hand and shuffle it over the floor in a sweeping motion, “until it goes into the pan. Got it?”

It's only then you realize the warmth emanating from Minho's back. If you move a little closer, you could press your cheek against him. He smells like something citrus and fresh mint and man.

Somehow, it makes goosebumps explode all over your skin. You step back abruptly, noting the heat searing through your palms where you had touched him just as he turns to face you, "you seem to be a natural at this. Why don't you do it?"

"I'm gonna take care of the floors," you're glad for the distraction that comes in the form of the rag, for there's a knot of heat in the middle of your chest and you're not quite sure how to deal with it, "let's just get this over with."

There's a long moment of silence as both of you focus on your tasks, which helps to calm down your nerves. Somehow, the sound of Minho's brush is conforting to hear.

Until he speaks up, "so you're gonna tell me what's wrong?"

"Why should I tell you, of all people?"

"Because there's nobody else around and seeing you all mopey makes me actually feel bad for you."

You wipe off the dusty corner by the teacher's desk, "Do you have any ounce of decency in you somewhere?"

"Not when you're involved," Minho snickers.

You whip around, throw the balled-up rag at him and smirk in satiafaction when it hits him square in the head, "ow--what the fuck, Y/N?!"

Glad that you managed to piss him off, you turn and continue, "oops sorry. My hand slipped."

It's not ultimately Minho's fault that you're more anxious, more easily irritated than usual. So you can't really take it out on him. But he doesn't make it any easier either.

Thankfully, the rest of the cleanup goes smoothly as butter and he parts ways with the excuse that he needs to go find his aupposed lunch date, to which you merely rolles your eyes and headed for the dining hall alone.

It doesn't normally bother you to be alone. On the contrary, you relish in those silent moments of freedom without having to hear an earful from Kitty and Q, or having Yuri complain about yet another one of her life's family miseries.

But as you find a vacant seat by the door, you can't help but suddenly feel a little small in a room full of people who seem to be right where they should be. And something in your heart constricts and clenches so hard it causes a soft sob to die at the back of your throat.

You grip your spoon a little tighter and bite down so hard on your lip that you feel the tangy taste of blood.

It feels lonely.

------

You're kind of sick.

Not physically sick.

Just sick of hearing christmas carols ringing all over campus. Sick of smelling hot chocolate in the air, sick of seeing luggages being dragged on vacation.

Sick of being here.

For an international student, returning home for Christmas was never an option. The airplane ticket is too expensive for your familt to afford, and you wouldn't ever impose that on them. But if you had to admit to that selfish part of you; you wished you were privileged enough to get to fly out at every chance you got.

Alas, that is not the kind of life that you live.

So when the doorbell rings at seven-thirty in the morning on Christmas Eve, you're more than surprised to find none other than Minho standing by your door with his hands in his pockets.

"Wh--Yeah? What do you want?" You frown upon noticing the lack of luggage behind him. Knowing Minho, he packed like a diva.

He hums and peeks inside your flat, causing you to shuffle into his peripheral vision, "what do you want Minho?"

"You're not packed."

"Wise observation, smartass."

He brushes past you and strides inside, taking his shoes off casually by the door, "why not?"

"None of your business."

He throws you an exasperated look, "you gonna keep being like this?"

"I don't know, are you gonna keep annoying the hell out of me?"

He can't help the grin that spreads over his face at that, "you're fun to mess around with."

"Well for your information, it's not fun. Not for me," you don't hesitate to walk over before grabbing onto his arm and tugging over to the door, "really. I'm fine. Now leave."

"I'm surprised you're not going home for Christmas," he continues as you're pushing him out of the door.

It stings, "why?"

"International kids usually do," he folds his arms, proceeds to lean into the open doorway and you got another whiff of his scent, "what? Daddy didn't want to pay for you this time?"

"My dad died. Two years ago."

There's surprise first, that flashes through his eyes. Then realization slowly dawns.

There’s some kind of weight in your chest. Like your heart has just broke.

"What?" You laugh but it's dry and twisted, "cat got your tongue? Too shocked to speak? Poor little Y/N, who doesn't have a father to pay off her credit card bills, right?"

"I didn't know--"

"Of course you didn't. You never asked."

"I'm--" he swallows, looks away, "—sorry."

You scoff, "don't. It's okay. I've been over it for the past two years."

It's not what he says but rather the way he looks at you that makes your insides shrivel up with dread and fear and the idea that he'll never look at you the same way ever again.

Because the thing is, no matter how much Mjnjo teases you, bullies you into oblivion, you do enjoy the attention, the banter. It's almost as if it's better than just being ignored altogether.

And amidst all his teasing and his annoying personaity, there are bite and smidges of Minho's kindness smattered in-between, flecks of tenderness that makes your heart soar, your brrath

To have such a man look down at you, pity you, makes you want to be sick.

"Y/N--" you cut him off before he can even try to make it up to you, "it's fine, Minho. Just drop it--"

"Wha--I said I was sorry, don't give me that look--"

"I said drop it!" You swerve around on him, anger bubbling from deep within your chest as blood pulses through, rushes through you, "for one goddamn second, can you just leave me alone?! I don’t need this—this constant bullying of your part! It’s tiring and it’s just so goddamn frustrating and humiliating so will you just stop?!”

The shocked silence that follows your sudden outburst is heavy. If the tension had been thick before, it’s now so hard you can barely cut it with a knife. You try to regulate your staccato breaths, try not to let your body take over your mind as you focus on breathing in, breathing out, breathing in. Breathing out. Just like that.

Calm. Like water. Like you’re a river that never stops.

“Just go, Minho,” your words are bitter. You can barely look his way, an overwhelming surge of irritation, guilt and hurt swimming through you.

Thankfully, the young man seems just as surprised as you are and leaves without even a backward glance. That’s when you finally cave in and allow your legs to crumble to your floor. Pressing your head against the door, your body instantly gives into the sadness that crumbles through you like used up tissue, soaking in all the tears that are suddenly cascading down your cheeks without restraint.

You cry yourself to sleep that night.

———

“Minho, I’m really sorry about my behaviour.”

You stare.

Your reflection stares back.

Shit. This doesn’t feel right. You close your eyes, exhale a soft breath, and open them once more only to find a set of familiar brown eyes gazing back at you.

It’s just the day after Christmas and though the majority of your friends were still off campus, you’re well aware that a certain Korean young man has decidedly stayed back because of his mother’s offshoot shooting commercial.

However, you still hadn’t gotten the guts to go back and ask him for a formal apology yet. Did you even need one when he’d been the one prodding you with a stick like he would with a nest of aggressive bees?

Oh well. You decided you’d be the bigger person and make the first move. As always.

So you look back to your reflection with renewed determination, take a deep breath before forcing the words out, “I am really sorry for my shitty behaviour, Minho, I should’ve—no,” you shake your head, start again and clasp your hands together for good measure, “I’m really sorry if I offended you in any way, I was hurt—no. God. I sound so pathetic.” You can’t help but curse at the mirror.

Inhale. Exhale. Deep breath. And you try once more, this time adding a small smile.

“I’m really sorry for everything that I said. I was being a bit insensitive and wasn’t in the right headspace—“ you break off with a frustrated snarl, “god! Why is it so hard to apologize to the dude?!”

“The dude’s standing right here.”

Shocked, you swivel around only to find none other than the said question in person leaning against your doorway, eyebrows raised and a semblance of a smirk lining his lips.

“M—Minho,” you feel like slapping yourself for sounding like a stuttering goldfish. Quickly, your hands smooth down your sweater, hiding them in the big bell sleeves as your eyes find everything — anything, to get off his face, “what—what are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you, actually.”

“Why?”

You’re still not looking, deciding that the faint crack in your dorm room is much more interesting.

Minho’s footsteps approach as he strides close, close enough that you get a whiff of his expensive cologne and restrain yourself from sighing out loud.

The bastard smells too good, you feel like crying.

“Why?” He scoffs, “isn’t it obvious?”

“Not really.”

“Alright. Fine,” you’re still not looking at him, which is why you almost jump out of your skin the moment you feel the gentlest graze of his fingertips at your jaw.

“Wha—“ you stutter, eyes flashing up to his on instinct.

Dark brown meets swirls of maroon. You almost lose your breath.

In the mid-morning light with sunshine falling over half of his face, Minho looks like he’d just walked out of some fashion magazine.

“What are you…doing?” You manage to murmur out. Barely.

It’s hard to concentrate when he’s right there, in your personal space, looking a little too dashing for his own good.

“You’re right. I was being a selfish dick to you two days ago,” his grip on your chin is firm, his dark eyes even firmer, “so I’m sorry if you took it the wrong way.”

You laugh, “wait—is Minho actually apologizing? To me?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“But this is a legendary moment,” you fake a mocking gasp at him, “I should record this right now.”

“Don’t make me regret it, Y/N.”

Chuckling, your eyes crinkle up as you allow yourself to roam over his features, “okay okay, I’ll stop.”

Minho fidgets and doesn’t say anything back. Weird, considering that he has a comeback for everything. You feel his hand drop from your chin as he takes a step back, lips pressed together and face looking like he’s uncomfortable being here.

Do you make him uncomfortable? It’s not a sight you’re used to seeing. Something tugs at your heartstrings but you try and ignore it.

“What is it?” You ask instead.

“There is…” his eyes dart away, “something I need to tell you.”

“About?”

His hand drops. Instantly, cold swoops in.

“About me. And you.”

You squint, “Minho I swear, if this is one of your stupid jokes again—“

“I like you.”

You blink.

He gazes back. His eyes. They’re gazing straight at you. Focused. Intense. Hot.

So hot it causes a flame to burst in your chest.

Wait…your mind backtracks, what?

“You—“ your mouth opens. Closes. Opens once more, "I'm sorry--what?"

His eyes answer in his stead. Dark orbs swirling with a depth that makes your skin explode in goosebumps. You realize, all too soon, how close you are, how -- if you want -- you can diminish the space between just with one single step forward.

"I like you," he says it honestly. Somehow, you relish in the way he says it. Clear and transparent. No inside games, no beating around the bush, "maybe more than a little."

You sense a but. "And?"

He rolls his eyes, "and maybe I just don't know how to show it."

"You mean, acting like a five year old boy who bullies his crush for fun because he likes her?"

"Something like that."

"Okay," you drag out the word in hopes that it will hide the way your heart suddenly skips a beat, the way your legs feel weaker at the knees, "so what--what now?"

"Well, that's the part where you tell me you like me back--" Minho catches himself upon seeing you raise a brow at him, "--or not. Your choice, your rules, doll."

Doll? You can feel the flame bursting through your chest and squeezing your heart. It aches so much it hurts, though it seems that your smile can't help tugging at the corners of your lips as you watch him and despite his seeming nonchalance about the whole matter, there's the slightest sheen of pink that gives him away.

Cute. Your brain chants.

"Well," you tilt your chin up in what you hope is a confident manner, "you normally take a girl out to dinner first."

"Is that a yes?" Minho smirks.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, yes I heard alright. Fine," he sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, "tomorrow night. Dinner. Be ready by six. I'll pick you up."

"Tomorrow? But wait I--"

"You better be there, doll."

And with that, he swivels on his feet and walk away while whistling a soft tune, leaving your heart flooded with a tide of mixed emotions that erupt through your chest and butterflies running along your skin.

---

Minho: I'll come pick you up by six. Be ready then. Wear something cute but casual. Nothing fancy.

Y/N: i like how you're telling me how to dress up when you're the one who's supposes to be wooing me.

Minho: oh you don't have to worry about that.

The way he replies so smoothly has goosebumps running along the back of your neck and you squeeze your hands into fists. You're still sitting on your bed, trying to digest all this new information as another flurry of messages burst through your phone, probably fron Kitty's latest reaction your news.

Kitty: what?! Minho?! And you?! He asked you out?!!! Omg how did I not see this coming!!!

Y/N: i thought you were a matchmaker.

Kitty: well YEAH before he went and ruined it!!! Anyway, what are you WEARING?!

Y/N: i have absolutely no idea. He said something cute but casual, so I'm guessing there's not gonna be any fancy dinners or anything.

Kitty: omg!! Minho and casual doesn't sound right. Maybe he really is trying to woo you!!

Y/N: should I wear shorts? Pants? A skirt?

Kitty: definitely no pants. Maybe that cute skater skirt you wore to Yuri's party last semester?

So you do. The skirt's baby blue colour contrasts well with the simple white tshirt you decided to wear with it, and throwing on a beige cardigan and some white sneakers complete the look. You add a small blue bow into your hair to match, and take one last look at yourself in hopes that you're looking exactly how Minho wants you to--

No. That's the wrong way to go about it. Minho likes you. Yes. You. Not the girls he's always so uses to seeing. You don't have to impress him.

That’s how you meet him right outside your door, with your newly-found resolve as you catch the simple white tee and ripped jeans, hair styled just the way he likes it, just enough to make every woman’s heart swoon.

His eyes do a once-over, “not bad, Y/N. You clean up nice.”

“Not bad?” You scoff, “I’m sure there are much better adjectives to use.”

He grins, “we’ll see.”

Minho brings you over to the Han river by electric scooter, with you standing in front and holding on to the handlebars as he guides you across the street even though it’s technically illegal for people to do such a thing. But with the wind in your hair and Minho’s warmth at your back, you don’t find yourself complaining.

“Han river?” You raise a brow at him as he parks and pays for his e-scooter ride, “really? So cliche.”

“The Han River is a classic,” he looks at you pointedly, “and I’ll have you know, I’ve never brought anyone here before.”

“Ooh, does that mean anything?” You wriggle your brows and he scoffs, looks away, “shut up.”

You weren’t expecting him, of all people, to be a fan of romantic gestures such as this. But when he parks his scooter in favor of walking alongside you by the trail — even with his multiple complaints about the dirt being too dirty and people needing to revisit their wardrobe fashion — you can’t help but wonder how much effort he’s putting into just being with you. Because knowing Minho, walking on crushed grass and having his shoes in dirt is quite a big deal.

“Look, do you want to be swooned or not?” He replies when you ask him the question, even looks offended that you’d dared ask such a thing, “I thought girls loved it when boys brought them here.”

“Yes I know that,” your grin is so wide that you’re surprised it hasn’t broken your face in two yet, “and don’t get me wrong. I love it, but I never thought you—of all people — would bring me here, of all places. It’s just not…”

“Not what?” He scowls.

“Just not you,” you confess, and then, seeing that his frown seems to take a permanent fixture on his face, you quickly add, “so the fact that you’re doing it…thanks. It means…something. You know?”

Heat springs through your cheeks at the sudden confession and you quickly look away, anywhere, but not before glancing at Minho to see that he has a faint smile dancing across his lips.

As the evening wears on, you get to talk about everything and anything; from worries about your future and the rigorous routine of adult life, about which game box is better and which restaurant serves the best korean noodles, which Minho argues does not exist, considering that every single noodle joint in Seoul is a pro in making them.

"We're the city of noodles and gimbap, obviously there's more than one good noodle stop."

"You speak like someone who hasn't tasted Uncle Cha's food yet. You know, the snack from across the road to campus."

Minho's nose wrinkles, "nah I'm good--"

"Oh no you don't," you grab onto his arm before he has a chance to run away, "nu-uh. Let's go get them right now, actually."

Surprisingly awed by Cha's cuisine, Minho has no other choice than to grumble out a faint agreement. It's no secret that it makes your day.

"But the environment--" Minho shudders, "I think I saw a cockcroach scuttling about in there."

“Oh yeah,” you let your eyes follow the wall and trail back up to him, pointing at his face, “there’s one.”

Shoving you playfully, he pulls out his tongue in such a childish manner you can’t help but burst out laughing.

You decide to take the walk back along the Han River even if it makes a detour, stopping by a coffee shop to grab some hot chocolate. The city lights now illuminate the city like stars scraping the earth’s surface and you can’t help but feel amazed by how beautiful the scenery is, with the wind trickling through your hair and soft music from busking sessions in the background.

“I’ve never actually walked along the Han River before,” you confess to him as you gaze down at the black waters sloshing against the river edge, “thanks, Minho.”

He has the look of a satisfied five year old child who got a gold star for his best behaviour, “you’re welcome.”

“Who knew you’d be the one to bring me here?” You jostle his shoulder playfully before taking a sip of your hot chocolate.

“What’s that you’re implying?” He frowns.

“That you’ve surprised me and my expectations.”

“And that’s supposed to be a compliment?” He looks horrified and dramatic, “you’re harsh, Y/N. I’ll have you know, I haven’t—“ he stops himself just in time for you to swoop in and push, “yeah? You haven’t what?”

“Nevermind,” he sips his own drink and you notice the way his ears have turned red.

You giggle, “tell me, have you gone on dates before?”

“Wha—of course I have! What kind of question is that?!” You keep on laughing and laughing at his face, shaking your head as you try and muffle your chuckles the best you can, “oh god—oh my god, you never have. It’s written all over your face—“

“You talk too much,” he mutters into his drink and turns away from you, ears as red as a fire engine.

You nudge him, smiling, loving that side of him that he’s never really shown anyone before. Because you all know the cool, confident Minho. But this, this side of Minho is uncharted territory.

And you’re all here for it.

“Why not, though?”

His eyes narrow as he looks back at you, “what?”

“Why haven’t you brought anyone out before?’ You fidget with your cup, glad that it’s warming your hands so you can busy yourself with something, “because I’ve seen you, with different types of girls. All the time—“

“Yeah that didn’t mean anything.”

“But you still went out with them.”

“Is that jealousy I hear in your voice?”

“What?” Heat flushes through you, “no, I just—“

That’s when you feel it. His hand, fluttering up to yours. He pries your hold from your cup gently before bringing it down between you, fingers entangling with yours like they’re meant to be there in the first place.

And when your eyes flutter to lock onto his, there’s liquid warmth in those pools of brown, a tenderness you’ve seldom seen before.

“This is new too,” he murmurs then, “all of this.”

Your heart skips a beat. There are no words to be said.

You swallow thickly, look away, and don’t miss the soft chuckle that falls from his lips as he keeps swinging your hands back and forth between you, his smile a permanent fixture on his face. One that your lips mirror faintly as you keep walking back towards your dorms in comforting silence.

———

“Was that romantic enough for you?”

Minho’s question is met with a chuckle from your part as you finally reach your dormitory. A few stray students are still studying deep into the night, some already asleep on the deep blue couches in the common room as you make your way through, hands still entertained from earlier.

Your heart has been skipping and rollerblading into ecstasy ever since.

“Hmm,” you hum, even tilting your head in thought, “guess so. Though if I had any complaints—“

“You wouldn’t tell me, because there aren’t any,” Minho finishes for you, “right?”

“Oh i have plenty, but I’ll keep it for another time,” you flash him a mischievous smile. You’ve reached your corridor by that time, your words causing Minho to shoot you a suggestive look.

“another time?” He repeats with a cock of his brow.

You bite your lip and look away to avoid the fact that there’s a faint, yet growing smile on your face, “yeah. Maybe.”

The said young man’s lips pulls into a small smile, “I can work with that.” He murmurs, and something warm pools in the middle of your chest.

It’s hard to control yourself around Minho especially when he’s not being a little shit. Because the fact is; he’s very enticingly charming and likable.

“Well, that’s me,” you’ve reached your door then, glad that for once your dorm room is free of activity since both your roommates have gone home for the Christmas season, and turn towards Minho.

“Thanks you, for tonight,” your cheeks are warm with heat but you can’t resist grinning up at him, “I had more fun than expected.”

Minho sucks in a dramatic breath, “wow. I think i finally got a compliment out of your mouth.”

“Trust me, that’s me being nice.”

“I know,” he flashes a grin at you and before you know it, his arm has gone up to press against the doorway, caging you in and suddenly making you feel smaller than you are already. His body heat rolls into you in waves, the scent of his boyish cologne making you dizzy as your body leans into him unconsciously.

“So,” he breathes. He’s so close, so close that if you move just a little, your noses would brush, “since I’ve taken you out on a date, do I get to kiss you now?”

Air stills in your lungs. Your teeth find your lower lip.

“It depends,” your whisper is so soft he barely catches it, too enthralled by the way your mouth curves and moves with the words, “will you take me out again?”

“If her highness wishes,” Minho chuckles, tilting his head so that your noses brush. Electricity zaps through your body, goosebumps raising at the back of your neck, “I’ll take you wherever you want.”

Your eyes lock. There’s warmth, want. Desire swimming through his own pools of brown.

“Sounds like a promise,” you breathe, “so when will that—“

“Y/N.”

The way he says your name has a knot tightening in your stomach. Your body tenses in anticipation.

He’s gazing at you as if he’s only just seeing you. His lips are so close, you can feel his breaths on your lips. Hot against cold. He smells divine.

You’re so lost in your own daydream that you respond a few seconds late, “y-yeah?”

“Do me a favor?”

One hand cradles your cheek. You freeze.

“Hm?”

“Stop talking.”

And before you can do anything else, his mouth presses against yours.

Fireworks explode. Behind your eyelids. Through your body. Blood races and your brain goes fuzzy with want and desire as Minho’s other hand wraps around your waist to tug you in, his other hand clasping your jaw firmly as he kisses you. Once. Twice. He’s a good kisser, yet so gentle and tentative.

You’re taken by surprise for a few seconds, before you finally melt into him and kiss him back. A sigh escapes you as your hands go up to wrap around his neck, and the groan of satisfaction he lets out makes your entire nerves buzz with delight.

Tilting his head to the side to kiss you deeper, longer, you let out a gasp against his mouth as he pulls you even closer still, as if he can’t get enough of you. You haven’t realized you’re pressed to the door until your back meets the hard wood underneath and you yelp softly at the way his tongue swipes over your bottom lip to ask for entrance.

He kisses you softly, yet so firmly as if you’re the only thing keeping him alive, satiated. His hand at your hip moves up, tracing the back of your spine, the side of your rib cage before brushing against the corner of your bra and making you squirm while your hands curl into his hair. You tug, causing a grumble to echo out of Minho’s chest. His tongue darts in and you part for him like melted butter so that he can kiss you and ravage you without restraint.

Everything falls away, with only Minho being your anchor. You smell him, feel him against you, and want nothing else other than the dizzying rush that makes your stomach erupt with fireflies.

Your mouths part with a pop and he takes this chance to nip at your jaw, littering kisses down your neck before suckling on a soft patch of skin. Your body reacts instantly, curving into him as your lips part in a soft, minuscule moan. That’s enough to snap him back to attention.

He gazes up at you, chest heaving and all heavy breaths. His lips are swollen and red and just so beautiful. Hair tousled like he’s just tumbled out of bed and you quickly decide that’s the look you love best on him.

The curfew bell sounds and he curses.

“Minho,” you murmur when he leans in, noses brushing to capture your lips into his once more. You sigh, eyes falling shut as he takes your next set of words away.

It’s almost as if he’s drunk on you, as if he just can’t get enough.

The thought makes you shiver. Your heart swells with emotion.

“Minho,” you murmur once more against his lips. He groans, pulls away onto to bury his face into your neck and humming, “yeah?”

“Curfew’s in two minutes.”

“I know,” he’s pressing open-mouthed kisses over your collarbone and you can’t help but whimper and cradling his head closer to you despite trying to make sense of your thoughts.

“Y—You should go,” you stutter out but it’s almost like you’re talking to yourself. He’s clearly in his own world, suckling onto your skin and leaving purple marks to claim you as his. He pulls away, groaning appreciatively at the sight you make.

“Do I really have to go?” His dark eyes — darker than you’ve ever seen them — flickers over your features. There’s a kind of hunger to them that makes you shiver.

“Yes,” you stammer out, heart almost bursting out of your chest when the boy merely tugs you close before he rests his head atop yours. He holds you, breaths you in, and your eyes close on their own accord, taking in the moment like it’s the last.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” his whisper grazes the shell of your ear and you shiver. He pulls back and there’s the kind of crooked smile that makes your heart tighten, “goodnight, Y/N.”

“Good night, Minho,” you murmur and dropping a last kiss atop your temple, you watch him walk away, raising a salute with his hand as he does so.

———

A/N: GAHHH IDK WHAT I WROTE AND I GAVE UP AT THE END I HOPE IT’S ALRIGHT BUT ANYWAY I’VE BEEN OBSSESSED WITH MINHO THESE DAYS.

[makncheese12]

Top Shelf

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Jenna Ortega x fem!reader

Masterlist

Summary: being the kid of a well-known book store owner was easy, so was running into famous people. But being book smart doesn’t make everyone people smart.

Warnings: my writing, language(bad words😯), my attempt at being funny, mention of gun shots and head shots, mentions of my favorite book(literally love Ruta Sepetys sm omg.

A/N: part 2? I am going to make you all suffer through the most oblivious slow burn. R if going to be so dumb/oblivious it’ll hurt you all🫶🏻

Word count - 3.6k

Credits: @novmoth (my friend from school who feeds into my delusions and gives me more ideas for this story🫶🏻)

(bare with me English is not my first language🥲 I’m getting help from my friend to edit it)

You were born to it.

The books. The films. The music and video games.

It was your life, literally. With your parents being owners of the infamous establishment called ‘top shelf’, you had no choice but to.

And you wouldn’t ever change.

Books upon books, movie after movie, games old and new and music that could last you weeks. Who would want to change such a life?

Your father was the first to start it.

He was poor man in Washington but had just enough money to buy it from the man who owned the small movie shop before he retired. He slowly started added book shelves and video games to the mix. Getting few customers but enough to survive day to day during the time of his early years

Your mother was a wealthy run away. Wanting something different and new in her life when she met your father. The man was playing on his game boy behind the counter before he saw her.

The poor boy and his run away wife, a classic really.

The rest after that is history.

As soon as they found out your mother was pregnant with you, they used the rest of her money they saved and went to New York where they bought the huge abandoned apartment complex.

They broke all the insides down and built what you now know as your second home. Hundreds of video games, films and music in one section and thousands of books in another.

Thus, Top Shelf was born only two weeks after you.

You met many friends there in the comfort section where students and business people worked as you all goofed off.

Your had also met your small friend group during your younger years, the four of you all never letting your father have the peace he wanted and dragging him all over New York.

With the thousands of books and hundreds of video games and films your parents sold, you had money. Lots of it.

But your mother made sure you never let that get the best of you, never. It went against everything she went for when she ran away.

She would make sure you would work for and earn everything you got, always.

She never let you have too much online activity, in case her family found you and made sure you were both street smart and book smart.

Your neighbors made sure you were street smart more than anything but you still gave her credit for trying.

Though, the book store was beautiful in every season. Winter was a favorite and when it was busiest. It was too your favorite.

Your father lighting the public fire place, your mother setting soft seasonal music, hell even the cheesy Christmas cartoons on the TV’s set the mood for the perfect bookstore vibe.

The lights dim just enough to where it almost felt like dark academy yet the plants that grew down the upstairs railing made the entire place feel more alive.

————

“Bullshit!” You yell out as you throw your head back onto the head rest of your chair, groaning loudly as the photo sound of your death snapped in your ears.

“Man, he’s fucking using cheats!” Dru calls out through the mic before his name pops up above to yours in dark red on the screen as you respawn.

“Of course he is, he’s a pussy.” Mj says, as her name, too, pops up on the screen.

“Oh come on, guys!” Lyle says through his staticky mic. “You all just suck.” He laughs

“Now I know your cheating, dude. Your mic is acting up again, just like last time!” Dru says, the sound of his voice booming louder than needed and you roll my eyes.

“DD, just because you like to replay games without using cheats doesn’t mean the rest of us do.” Lyle says in a matter-of-fact tone.

“It’s multiplayer, stupid! It’s meant to be fair for everyone!” Dru says making you snort. “Says the guy who chases around little kids and steals their horses making them cry.” Mj says making Dru blow into his mic making loud, unnecessary noises.

“Quit that!” You say taking one head phone off your ear. “Tsk tsk tsk,” Lyle starts. “Such a sore loser.”

“I’ll show you sore loser, get on Elden ring and we’ll test your irritation.” Dru says, mic now muffled by his own spit.

“Your tank build is not enough to stop me, comet azur will always save the day.” He says in a sing-song voice.

“And you call me a try hard, yet you’re the one always using a broken spell.” Dru complains. “Theres nothing I have to try hard at when I can just hold a simple button.” The sound of Dru’s groans become louder as his spit clears out from his Mic. “Same thing!”

You laugh once again before picking up your phone and looking at the time.

“Shit!” Your eyes go wide at the sight, 8:48 AM.

You quickly throw the head set off and push yourself out of the chair, opening your closet grabbing a quick pair of jeans and a hoodie before rushing to put it all on.

Your cat skids across the floor, startled by your sudden movements before a crashing in the your pile of books and out the door.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mumble as you jump up and down to put on your shoes, failing at not falling and race toward the door. “Sorry!” You call to your cat who yells at you next to his food bowl.

You grab your keys and rush out the door before slamming it shut and locking it.

“Ay, y/n!” Your neighbor, Rosa, shouts from beside her door. “Quiet will you! I just put Nona to sleep!” She yells raising her news paper tapping your head with it.

“Sorry! sorry, Señora Rosa.” You whisper yell as you try to push her weaponized hand away. “I’m just a little late.”

“And I just got a moment of peace! Quiet!” She says giving you one last wack making you try and shrink away from her as you rush toward the stairs.

“You got your pepper spray, right?” She calls and you raise your key chain to show her the attached small can. “¡Buena niña!”

You rush down the stairs and push passed the glass door, almost slipping on the ice before running down the street.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket making you quickly take it out.

“Hello?” You ask without knowing who it was.

“Arthur Morgan would be very disappointed at your sudden disappearance from an important mission.” Lyle says before sighing.

“It’s multiplayer, there are no main missions.” You say, trying to avoid the ice on the ground before stopping at the red hand across the street. “Plus, we were in the middle of four way 1v1. He’d be more upset that we were going against each other.”

“Loyalty is everything in such a game,” he says, sarcasm in his voice and you imagine him shaking his head. “Of course he would be upset at my bullet in DD’s head.”

“Why’d you call me exactly?” You ask watching the hand turn into a green man walking before taking off again.

“Well, you just yelled ‘shit!’ Before disappearing on us, had to make sure someone didn’t break in and kill you.” He replies casually as if he knew that weren’t the case. “But after hearing you continue on your ‘shit’ rant and the door slam I figured it was okay, just had to call and make sure, y’know?”

“Ever heard of a text, loser?” You ask, barley missing a man walking and looking down at his phone. “Gross,” he says before making a gagging noise. “why waste such time typing when I can simply just hit one button?”

“You’re so lazy.” You laugh out loud as you run across another street. “Work smarter not harder, Y/N. You should know this with that big brain of yours.”

“What if I want to work both smarter and harder?” You ask, running up to the glass window to see the books lined up. “Well, then your just weird.” You roll your eyes.

“Just kidding. I guess you can do both, I just personally prefer the alternative.” He says as the sound of guns shooting fills the phone. “Yeah, also sorry about leaving.” You say pushing into the store being greeting with the familiar smell of books and the warm smile of my mother.

“I forgot I had to get ready for work.”

“You’re at top shelf?” He ask and you reply with a ‘mhm’. “I might stop by later to say hello actually, I need a new game anyway.” He laughs as the sound of Dru yelling in the back ground becomes more prominent.

“Sounds good, see you loser” You say as you take your sweat shirt off, leaving you in your tank top you hand before leaving. “Later,” you hear him say before hanging up.

“Good morning,” you hear your mother say as you pull the staff sweat shirt over your head and pull up your sleeves. “Mornin’,” you reply before kissing her cheek.

“Wheres dad?” You ask looking around before your eyes setting on the woman stack a pile of books into one pile.

“He’s going to be out of town for a few days,” she says carrying the pile to the check back station. “A vacation, I insisted as I continue your training.” She says making you smile.

“We both know he needs it, he’s getting older.” She says and your smile fades as you nod. “So are you.” You mumble and she, too, nods.

“You know him getting old is different from me getting old.” She states, sighing quietly.

“What’s todays task?” You ask, quickly changing the subject at the sight of her sad frown. She looks at you for a moment before smiling once again.

She moves to storage closet and unlocks it, allowing you to see the boxes upon boxes along with stacks of different other things.

“To be a good store owner, you have to know your customers.” She says returning with a large box that you quickly take from her.

“Just put it on that table — and to know your customers, you must socialize and help them throughout the store.” She finishes as you take the box to the table noticing the label romance written across it.

“That also means having to work while helping the customers, so you’ll be on stock duty as well.” She says with a smile.

Yes.

You mentally say to yourself. Stock duty required work of you finding the places of different books, movies and games which also meant finding new things you didn’t know about before.

“One more thing,” you mother says as she walks behind the counter to finish opening up the store. “No head phones.” Your eyes go wide.

“But ma!” You call out to the lady who switches the sign from closed to open. “What else am I supposed to do when I stock!” You call, holding onto the white cords and swinging them around.

“Help the customers and socialize.” She laughs out making you frown. “I should call CPS.” You mumble carrying the box to the sorted area before hearing the woman’s laugh.

“Sure, call ahead but don’t be disappointed when they decline a twenty year old.”

You roll your eyes before continuing down the aisle.

“And after you sort those, get the others out of the storage closet!” You huff quietly as you glance back with a small playful glare on your face.

“If I wanted to work out, I would have gone to the gym.” You say and she rolls her eyes. “You’ll be just as sore in the morning, trust me.”

————

Hours hand passed, since you last seen the romance box having moved on to the horror section of the films.

You search through their placement areas, looking at all the old cinematic master pieces, the many Dracula films placed neatly next to each other, in order of both year and name.

Horror was one of the favorites when coming here, your father being a collected through his years he had many people couldn’t get their hands on.

Sure you could watch it online now but where’s the fun in that when you have a real copy with the static noises and written voices on screen. Some people still had some class left in them.

You hear a book hit the floor making the library echo as heads turned toward the cause of the sudden interruption of their silence.

“Shit—” You hear someone say quietly, making you roll your eyes as you place the rest of the CD’s in their rightful places before making your way toward the aisle the noise came from.

You subtly make your way toward the aisle while acting like your checking the books before taking a peek around the corner.

You see a rather short girl — shorter than the third shelf — craning her neck to look up at all the books in front of her.

Just to your luck, your mother placed a box for that genre next to the end of the shelf and you picked it up.

You make your way down the aisle and set the box toward the middle before looking up the girl who was already staring, and boy was she something.

Freckles littered across her tan skin, strands of her short hair fell from her half up half down style, her eyes — damn her eyes — they were the prettiest brown you’ve ever seen.

You smile lightly before picking up the first book and reading both the authors name and the title while trying to slow down your racing heart.

Who was this girl? Matter of fact, what was she? She wasn’t a regular, that’s for sure but you always get random people coming in so it didn’t exactly matter.

After putting away a few books, you glance up to see the girl a few feet away and on her tippy toes, reaching for a book on the fifth or sixth shelf.

You snorted quietly catching the girls attention making you quickly look away to keep yourself from laughing.

“You think this is funny?” She asks and you begin shaking in quiet laughter.

After a few moments, you compose yourself and stand shaking your head.

“No, not at all. Would you like some help?” You ask taking step toward her. She narrows her eyes. “Are you making fun of me right now?” She asks, both amusement and annoyance in her voice.

“Why would I do that? It’s poor customer service.” You say with a smile before watching her own smile grow.

“It’s poor customer service to laugh at a customer.” She mumbles before stepping back. “Please.” You walk up and grab the book.

“Look how easy that was.” She says, taking the book you held out for her. “Being six-foot-two does have its perks.” She says looking over the back of the book.

You roll your eyes but your smile only grows. Looking down at the book you nod and raise your eye brows, “that’s a good one, read it a few years back.” You say, making your way back to box of books.

“I’d hope so, for all the work I had to do to try and get it.” She mumbles making you smile and shake your head. “Anything else good?” She asks, looking down to you.

“You’re asking me if there’s anything else good in here when there’s just by the look of it thousands of books here?” You ask, smirking at her when she rubs the back of her neck.

“Yes, there is, I’ve read more than I can count. My recommendation board is up by the front desk if you want to check it out.” You say before placing crave by Tracy Wolff into the slot.

“You must have come here a lot before working then? If you’ve read so many books from here.” She asks, following hot on your trail with the book tucked between her arm. “Oh, for sure,” you say nodding. “The owners and I are real close, we were together a whole nine months before I was born.”

Her eyes widen slightly at the information. “You’re parents own this place?” She asks, gesturing to the entire book store and you nod, smiling.

It felt like you were a teenage boy, flaunting his muscles to a girl he finds attractive.

“Wow,” she says looking around once again. Book still tucked tightly into her arm as she did so. “Just wow. Your parents have taste.”

“More like their people pleasers.” You say shaking your head. The real other reason why horror is so popular in the movie section is because of their request.

Every week they check their request list and buy everything people ask for. New books, new movies, new music and games, there’s always something new. You’re surprised there’s still room, then again the place would be as big you supposed.

“They like having their customers choice their number one priority. It’s good business.” You say looking up to the girl who had a look of wonder in her eyes as she stared down at you but there was also something else. Something you couldn’t quite place.

She stares at you for another moment before speaking again, “do you.. know who I am?” She asks and your furrow your eye brows in question.

“Should I?” You ask tilting your head. She stares for another moment again, eyes scanning your face and it’s features as if searching for something.

Her smile then grows, as she shakes her head. “You shouldn’t, or rather shouldn’t have to. It’s just a surprise.” She says, tucking her hair behind her ear.

You knit your eye brows together in confusion.

She walks out of the aisle and you catch the light smile on her face as she does.

What the hell? You wonder to yourself as you place the last few books away.

You were pretty sure that was the last section, unless your mother put out some more stuff you didn’t notice. You’d just check out the to-do list.

Your mother and father always had one for both you and their own sake. Adding things so no one would forget.

As you made your way to check out, you see the girl walking in the general distraction as well.

“All set?” You ask, placing the box inside the others, moving past the small door attached to the low counter.

“Yep,” she says once again staring at you.

You take the book you got for her earlier along with another you recognize almost immediately. “Between shades of gray?” You ask, looking at her as if she were serious.

“Your description seemed trust worthy enough to make me interested.” You glance over to see your board clearly flipped through before nodding.

You scan both books. “Careful, it’s sad, dark and traumatic. It’s one of my favorites though.” You say looking up at her, she pauses for a moment, staring at you once again and just smiles and shakes her head.

“I think I can deal with a few of those.”

“Bartering or buying?” You ask. “Bartering,” she replies and you nod. “Good, I need to get a review on what you think.” You say with a smirk and you see a glint of something in her eyes.

“Name?” You ask and she looks at you a little confused. “We have to know whose using our books, how else do you think we send emails threatening to charge or get them back?” You snort.

“Oh, your totally right.” she says quietly before taking out her credit card.

“Jenna Ortega..” she says and you nod, typing in the name before reaching for the credit. Her grip on the card tightens at your lack of response.

You pull the card gently but her grip is to hard for you to take.

“Can I… get the card?” You ask, looking around slightly uncomfortably with the stone like stare she was giving you.

“Are you sure you don’t know who I am?” She asks letting go allowing you to swipe the card.

“Again, should I?”

You both stare at each other, both confused and entrapped by the other.

You find is strange how she thinks you know who she is or why you don’t know her.

Maybe she was some big deal somewhere off and you still have yet to hear about her.

Her name did ring a bell but you weren’t sure. Was she a person you knew from your child hood? An old friend trying to reconnect? Maybe some relative on your moms sent by the older ones to investigate if it was really you.

“Miss Ortega?” You’re both broken out of your thoughts as two large men stand behind her. “Time to go.” he says gesturing to a few people who were standing and staring in your general direction.

One grabs the bag off the counter before quickly walking towards the door.

“Looks like I gotta go,” she says, smile now suddenly shy with others watching. “Don’t worry, I’ll return your book Y/N.” She says before walking toward the door, one of the men right behind her.

“Yeah, you bet-“ you pause after the the realization hits you. “Wait, how’d you-?” You begin to ask before watching her gesture to her chest.

You knit your eyebrows together, you look down to see the name tag right under the library symbol.

She was strange.. cute.. but strange

Read next sort here!

A/N : Some parts once again rushed🧍🏽‍♀️This is just an introduction I suppose, the details will get better I tried my hardest🥲

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | explicit | 7.1k | tags: Modern AU, Sex Worker Steve, Virgin Eddie, PWP, Sub Eddie/Soft Dom Steve | written for @subeddieweek | AO3 or complete fic under the cut)

As Steve waited in an impersonal hotel room for his new client to arrive, things began to feel a little off.

In truth, the term "client" there was somewhat unconventional. Three guys had hired him to surprise their friend Eddie on his birthday.

Just moments ago, Steve had received a text message from the guys telling him that they were about to bring Eddie to this very room under the guise of getting his present. What Eddie didn't know was that Steve was going to be that present.

One of the trio, a younger man named Garrett or Gareth, had only half-jokingly suggested that Steve should greet Eddie wearing nothing but a bow around his dick. Thankfully, the others had vetoed the idea, calling it cheesy and lame and saying it would only scare Eddie off. Steve couldn't help but feel a little offended by that because the last time his dick had frightened someone away had been in high school. He had been her first and she had been too intimidated by his size. Other than that, he had never had any complaints, thank you very much.

He hadn't talked to them directly when they had asked for his services; that was Robin's domain. She handled the initial negotiations, background checks, and vetting of potential clients before Steve even learned of their existence. Trusting Robin's judgment, he assumed these men were legitimate. Yet, there was something off about the whole situation.

Their lack of experience with this kind of thing was evident, demonstrated by their inquiry about kissing etiquette like this was Pretty Woman ("you have to tell Eddie if kissing is not okay dude") and their less-than-tactful remarks. When Steve had entered the hotel room, one of them, whom they had referred to as Freak, had made a comment about Steve certainly not being Eddie’s type, prompting Garrett/Gareth to reply "Nah, he secretly likes those pretty frat boy types, he'd just never admit it".

But it had been the quiet, earnest demeanor of Jeff, the third man, that had given Steve pause. Jeff had pulled him aside with a solemn plea to be careful with Eddie.

"Hey, man, you seem like a nice guy, and your manager Robin assured us that you'd take good care of Eddie. Just. Be gentle with him. He acts tough sometimes, but he deserves someone to be sweet to him, okay?"

Steve had just nodded dumbly, thrown by the unusual request. Most of the time his clients booked him directly, and while some had asked him to fuck them soft and slow, Jeff's request had sounded different to him. As if there was something they weren’t telling him about this Eddie.

Perhaps the guy had been hurt before, scarred by a past relationship, and now he approached any kind of intimacy with trepidation. Steve had had a few women hire him to help them get over something like that, so it wasn’t totally unheard of. No men had, but then again, he had only been offering his services to men for a few months, so maybe Eddie was just the first of his male clients with these kind of issues.

If Eddie was indeed struggling with past hurts, then Steve was determined to make him feel cherished and desired once again.

Lost in his thoughts, he almost missed the sound of voices growing louder outside.

Fuck, Steve thought startled. Even though he had been waiting for them, it still came as a surprise that they were already there. One for which he felt completely unprepared, because it was only then that he began to think about how to position himself.

"I don't know why you couldn't just give it to me later or tomorrow, guys," someone said with amusement just outside the door. That must have been Eddie, he thought, and found that he liked his voice.

The next voice was Garrett/Gareth's. "Believe us, Eds, you want it now. Come on, hurry up."

"Okay, okay, fine. Since when are you more excited about me getting presents than I am?"

Steve opted for simplicity and decided to sit on the bed, leaning back with his hands behind him. It was casual and easy, but also showed off the long line of his body.

The sound of someone inserting their key card into the slot was followed by the handle being pushed down. Then the door to the room opened, revealing the lucky guy who would have him for the next two hours.

He’s pretty, was the first thing that came to Steve’s mind. Tall and slender, with a small waist and very nice arms decorated in black ink. Most stunning, however, was his face. The pale skin was a tantalizing contrast to his pink lips, dark hair framing high cheekbones and deep brown eyes that looked at him like a deer in the headlights.

Then, the door closed with a bang.

“Guys? There’s some dude sitting on my bed, you might wanna call security. I’ll hold down the door but you gotta hurry.” Eddie’s voice trembled slightly and Steve was torn between worry and amusement.

Faintly he heard the other men laughing and Eddie's indignant squeak. "What the hell are you laughing at? There`s a crazy stalker in my room! Probably armed and dangerous!"

"Oh yeah, I bet he has a big gun," Garrett/Gareth snorted, and Steve rolled his eyes at the very obvious, very bad joke. The guy probably thought he was really funny.

Eddie seemed to agree with Steve, even if unknowingly. "Har-bloody-har. Jeff, c'mon, tell me you at least take this seriously!"

This was one of those nights when Steve wished he had been smart enough, or at least ambitious enough to go to college, so he wouldn't have had to make money on the side dealing with shit like this. At least most of his clients were easier to deal with, if not as easy on the eyes as this Eddie.

"Eddie, trust me, you can open the door. He's harmless."

"How do you know?"

"Because he's your birthday present!" Freak interrupted, clearly losing patience. "Gareth's right, we should have just made him put a bow on his dick and be done with it. At least then we wouldn't be standing here arguing."

Steve wondered if they knew he could hear every word they were saying. Like everyone else in the surrounding rooms, because they weren’t exactly quiet. He just hoped nobody called the cops.

"He's... What the fuck? You can't just give someone a person, that's human trafficking!"

Obviously tired of making a scene outside a hotel room, Jeff just opened the door and pulled Eddie inside, trusting the others to follow. They did, closing the door behind them, and then they all looked at Steve, who was still sitting on the bed, regretting all his life choices that had led him there.

He gave a little wave with his fingers. "Surprise."

Eddie blinked at him, speechless, his mouth slightly ajar. Despite the situation, he remained unfairly attractive, his wide eyes stirring something in Steve that he hesitated to explore further. Steve's knowledge of Eddie was limited to his questionable choice of friends, yet he felt an inexplicable urge to shield him from the world, to keep him safe. The urge was unexpected in itself, but even more so in the intensity with which it hit him.

"This is Steve," Gareth introduced, stumbling over his words. "And, uh, well, he... yeah. Guys?" Gareth glanced around, hoping for support from the others, but they remained silent.

With the air of someone who didn’t expect any different, Steve rose from his spot on the bed and approached Eddie. As he stood before him, Steve was enveloped in a mixture of clean body spray, shampoo, and a faint whiff of cigarette smoke. Eddie's eyes, even larger up close, held a warm hue that was quite captivating.

Steve flashed a smile, aiming for a blend of reassurance and flirtation.

"I'm Steve, and for the next two hours, I can be whatever you need," he declared, though technically, twenty minutes had already elapsed. Nevertheless, for Eddie, Steve was willing to make an exception.

Eddie, inexplicably, horrifyingly, burst out laughing before slapping a hand over his own mouth, his eyes even wider than before as they looked at Steve in abject horror.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry. I wasn't laughing at you, it's just this whole situation is so... and then that sounded like... I feel like I stumbled into a porn plot."

Eddie looked embarrassed by his reaction, but Steve had to agree. It all felt a little ridiculous all of a sudden and he thought he could use that to his advantage, to make Eddie feel more comfortable.

"I guess you're not wrong," Steve laughed playfully, rubbing a hand across his neck. "That was a line that could have come out of a bad porno. Let me try again." He took Eddie's hand in his own and gave him a smile, a real one this time. "Hi, I'm Steve, and your friends hired me to be your birthday present. What that means is that I'm here to make sure you have a good time, a great one even. Just tell me what you'd like to do, as long as it's nothing crazy, I'm in. I don't do pain play, nothing that leaves bruises or cuts, no breath play, no hard kink of any kind and no barebacking."

"Oh my God, you are here as a sex gift," Eddie exclaimed way too loudly as Steve finished listing the things he wouldn't do, turning even paler. Steve was so focused on Eddie that he hadn’t even noticed the other men leaving the room, but upon seeing Eddie's shocked reaction, he realized they were already gone.

"I can't believe they hired a sex worker to deflower me. I told them to leave it the fuck alone. God, this is so fucking embarrassing," Eddie whined, burying his face in his hands with a long and anguished groan.

It tugged at Steve's heartstrings, the way Eddie pulled away from him, clearly embarrassed. His first instinct was to pull him into his arms and tell him it was okay, that Steve got him. But Eddie's words continued to ring in his ears as the puzzle pieces began to fall into place. Deflower me. As in, he was supposed to take Eddie's virginity. That's why the others had been so weird about it, and why Eddie had been so shocked and clueless when he found him in his room.

Jeff's words came back to him, "be gentle with him" and "he deserves someone to be sweet to him". It wasn't that Eddie was necessarily recovering from past hurts, but that there were no past experiences. Or maybe there had been, and that was why he had never gone all the way. Because looking at him, Steve had a hard time understanding how anyone could not want to sleep with Eddie.

"Eddie," Steve tried gently, "are you...have you ever had sex with anyone?"

Peering at Steve through his fingers, Eddie shook his head.

"Did you, I mean, have you done things like handjobs, blowjobs, anything like that?"

Another anguished groan as Eddie shook his head again.

"Making out? Kissing?" Steve had to know what he was working with here, because the last thing he wanted was to do something Eddie wasn't ready for.

This at least made Eddie lower his hands so that Steve could see the expression on his face. He looked even more embarrassed, his flushed cheeks red, but there was some indignation in his eyes. "I've kissed before. And made out with someone. Well, above the waist. And fully clothed. But it still counts!"

Eddie's voice sounded almost pleading and it left Steve aching for him. He had no idea why someone as gorgeous as Eddie hadn't had sex yet, but he knew he shouldn't act like there was something wrong with him because of it.

"Hey, man, it's okay. Really, I'm not judging you," Steve tried to reassure him. He was tempted to reach out and offer some physical comfort as well, but he wasn't sure how welcome that would be as Eddie laughed bitterly at his words.

"Oh, please. I'm judging me! I'm turning 30 today and no one's even touched my dick. I'm pathetic."

Steve did reach out to him then, placing a comforting hand on Eddie's shoulder. "Hey, come on now. There's nothing pathetic about it. Everyone's journey is different, and there's no rush."

Eddie sighed, his shoulders slumping under Steve's touch. "Easy for you to say. You've probably had more action than you can count."

Steve chuckled softly. "Maybe, but that doesn’t mean anything. Quality over quantity, right?"

Eddie gave him a weak smile, but the tension in his expression remained. "I just feel like I missed out on something, you know? I grew up in a small and even more small-minded town in Indiana where it was impossible to find another gay kid without risking getting beaten up or worse. They had it out for me anyway because...well, it doesn't matter. By the time I finally left and moved to Chicago, I was 21 and hadn't even kissed anyone except Lisa Green in eighth grade, which only confirmed what I already suspected. I made out with a few guys in clubs and bars here, but it always felt... wrong. I didn't need to be romanced or anything, but I just... I wanted to feel some kind of connection, y'know? But anyone who wanted to date me, I was too scared to tell them that I had no experience whatsoever, too in my head about it. And before I know it, I'm 30 years old and my friends are hiring an incredibly hot guy to pity-fuck me."

Steve nodded sympathetically. "It's not a pity fuck, Eddie. But I get it. Just, believe me, sex isn't everything. And it's definitely not a measure of your worth."

Eddie let out a bitter laugh. "Tell that to my libido."

Steve couldn't help but laugh along with him. "Fair point. But seriously, Eddie, there's nothing wrong with taking your time. When the right moment comes along, you'll know.”

With an expression of utter defeat, Eddie mumbled. “Figured not even someone getting paid for it would want to sleep with me.” Then, he turned around and walked over to the door. “I’m sorry I wasted your time, Steve. Thank you for being so nice.”

“Whoa, wait a second. I never said I don’t wanna sleep with you. I just assumed, y’know, that you’d want to wait for the right guy.”

Eddie looked like a kicked puppy. “It’s fine Steve, I understand. There’s nothing sexy about a 30 year old virgin, you don’t have to lie.” Then, hanging his head, he pulled his shoulders up to his ears and put his hands in his pockets, making himself as small as humanly possible while still standing.

Steve couldn't stand to see Eddie so down on himself any longer, so he decided to show him exactly how much he wanted to sleep with him by simply pulling his shirt over his head, leaving him naked from the waist up. Then he reached down, unzipped his pants and stepped out of them as well, so that he was standing in front of Eddie in nothing but his underwear. He hoped to make himself at least a quarter as vulnerable as Eddie must have felt at that moment.

"Eddie, please look at me." When Eddie did, his eyes roamed over Steve's body as if he couldn't help himself, and Steve felt their gaze like a physical touch. He was accustomed to people looking at him with hunger and desire, and while Eddie's face showed signs of both, there was something else in his expression—a hint of longing, if Steve were pressed to put a name to it.

As the seconds ticked by, Steve wondered if Eddie would ever grow tired of drinking him in, since he showed no signs of being done anytime soon. But Steve began to suspect that maybe Eddie wasn't doing anything else because he didn't know what or how, so Steve had to take the lead here.

Closing the distance between them, he took Eddie's hands again, but this time he didn't hold them; he placed them on his hips. "You can touch me, Eddie. I want you to. I want you. So if you want me too, all you have to do is tell me." When Eddie continued to look at him wide-eyed, Steve asked him in his softest, most encouraging voice, "What do you want, Eddie?"

"I don't know." Eddie's hands on his hips trembled slightly, but his grip tightened, thumbs running up and down Steve's flanks. "You. Whatever you want."

Well, that was easy. "I want to make you feel good. Can I?"

"Please."

No one had ever looked at Steve the way Eddie did at that moment. It was as if Steve was the last drop of water in the desert—not like he wanted Steve, but like he needed him.

Steve cupped his face in his hands and pulled him close, whispering in the infinitesimal space between them, "I got you, baby," before sealing their lips in a tender kiss.

True to his words, Eddie kissed him back as if he had kissed people before, even if not very often. His lips still moved a little awkwardly against Steve's, but what he lacked in experience he made up for in feeling. Not even his actual girlfriends had ever kissed him the way Eddie was kissing him right now - like he couldn't believe he was allowed to do it, wavering between greedy hunger and grateful adoration that made Steve's head spin.

As they kissed, Steve felt a rush of warmth flood through him, a sensation he hadn't experienced in a long time. It was more than just physical attraction; there were the first stirrings of an emotional connection forming between them, one that felt utterly inappropriate within the confines of their current situation.

On the other hand, Steve reasoned with himself, Eddie deserved someone who would be sweet to him, as Jeff had put it. Given how he was starting to feel about Eddie, that wasn't going to be a challenge at all.

Breaking the kiss reluctantly, Steve rested his forehead against Eddie's, their breaths mingling in the space between them. "You're amazing, Eddie," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Eddie's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink and he smiled shyly. "Thank you. You're not so bad yourself."

Steve chuckled softly, a warmth spreading in his chest at Eddie's response. "What do you say we take this to the bed?"

Eddie nodded eagerly, his eyes shining with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Good," Steve said, taking Eddie by the hips as well and beginning to slowly walk them backwards, their eyes never leaving each other's.

As they made their way to the bed, Steve's heart pounded with anticipation. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was a pivotal moment, one that could change everything for him.

Once they reached the bed, Steve gently guided Eddie to sit down, their knees touching as they faced each other. The air between them crackled with tension, charged with the promise of what was to come.

Steve took Eddie's hands in his own, his touch gentle yet firm. "Eddie, I want you to know that we don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with," he said softly, wanting to reassure him.

Eddie met his gaze with a mixture of gratitude and desire. "I trust you, Steve," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity. Steve had no idea how Eddie could trust him so easily after just meeting him, but he vowed to do right by him and not betray the trust placed in him.

With a gentle smile, Steve leaned in to kiss Eddie again, his lips meeting Eddie's with a tender urgency. This time Steve took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue into the wet heat of Eddie's mouth, gently coaxing Eddie to join him in exploring each other.

The first tentative touch of Eddie's tongue to his own sent sparks of electricity through him and he would have been embarrassed by the moan that fell from his lips had it not been for the almost violent shudder that went through Eddie at the simple touch. When their lips parted, Steve glanced at the other man and found him looking tense, his hands clenched into fists on his thighs, and suddenly his reaction made sense.

"Baby, you can touch me. Don't hold back, I want you to show me how good I make you feel."

Closing his eyes with a pained expression, Eddie sighed deeply, defeated. "I feel like I don't know how. I don't want to mess it up. I mean, you must be used to incredible sex and then there's me, probably accidentally pinching you or something."

"Eddie," Steve said, wrapping his own hands around Eddie's clenched ones, "I'm sorry to break it to you, but you'll never learn if you don't try. It's like riding a bike. You can't learn it in theory, you have to get on it and ride it." And because Steve worried that might have been a little harsh, he added: "I'm your training wheels, and after tonight you can upgrade to a bike without them." Uncurling Eddie's hands and intertwining their fingers, Steve nudged their shoulders together. "Soooo. Wanna go for a ride?"

Eddie's lips twitched into a small smile at Steve's analogy, and some of the tension seemed to ease from his shoulders. "Okay, maybe I can give it a try," he said, his voice uncertain but determined.

Steve couldn't help but admire Eddie's bravery in the face of his own insecurities. He leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Eddie's forehead, offering silent encouragement.

With a deep breath, Eddie tentatively began to explore Steve's body, his touch hesitant yet eager. Steve guided him with soft murmurs of encouragement, reassuring him every step of the way.

At some point, Steve shifted back onto the bed and lay down on the sheets, offering more of himself to Eddie's curious hands. They were especially drawn to his chest, scratching the thick hair, and when Steve made an appreciative sound, Eddie let them wander to Steve's nipples.

"Start slow, run your thumb over them." Eddie did as Steve told him, and Steve noticed how every encouragement from him seemed to hit Eddie with another wave of arousal. His eyes darkened even more after Steve told him, "Just like that, baby. You're doing so good, learning so fast. Now try adding some spit so your thumb glides easier."

Eddie had been eagerly and obediently following his instructions the whole time, so Steve wasn't surprised when he immediately went to put Steve's latest order into action. What he didn't expect, however, was that Eddie would simply put his mouth on his nipple instead of wetting his thumb with it.

"Fuck," he moaned, his hands digging into Eddie's hair without his conscious decision, desperately trying to keep his mouth on his chest. "So good for me, such a good boy, just like that."

His words only spurred Eddie on, who moaned needily at his words, and as his confidence grew, so did his boldness. Steve felt the first tentative touch of teeth against his skin, setting his nerves on fire, and he encouraged Eddie to keep going by tugging at his curls. "Harder, baby."

Being the wonderful, beautiful, good boy that he was, Eddie went harder, his teeth making sure to leave marks on his chest. It was an intoxicating feeling to be laid out here, almost naked, while Eddie was still fully clothed, and yet it was Steve who was in control.

So far he had been able to ignore his cock, hard and heavy and leaking into his trunks. But it was getting harder and harder, pun intended, to keep his need for relief in check. It wasn't often that a client made him feel like he was about to lose his mind with lust, but Eddie was shaping up to be his exception in so many ways.

"Baby, you're incredible. I'm so hard for you, I need you to touch me or I'll lose my goddamn mind."

That finally gave Eddie pause. Pulling back from his mission to cover every inch of Steve's chest in bruises and bite marks, he lifted his head and looked down at where Steve's hard cock was obscenely tenting his trunks.

Watching Eddie wet his lips with his tongue, Steve decided to take a chance. "Can you take them off for me, darling? They're getting awfully uncomfortable."

That startled Eddie out of his silent reverie, his big brown eyes, which had captivated Steve from the start, turning to him. "You mean..."

"Only if you want to. We're not doing anything you're not ready for," Steve made sure to reassure him once again that while Steve was taking the lead here, Eddie was the one calling the shots. If he told him to stop, Steve would, no questions asked. "But if you're afraid of getting it wrong, I want you to know that nothing has ever felt as right as your hands and mouth on me. You couldn't get it wrong if you tried, baby."

It seemed to be just the right thing to say because Eddie leaned down to capture Steve's lips in another kiss, his weight balanced on his forearm next to Steve's head. His hand, still resting on Steve's chest, began to move again, fingertips dancing across his ribs and down his stomach until they reached their destination just above his waistband.

Eddie had moved to lie more comfortably next to Steve when he had let his hands and mouth map Steve's body, but now he positioned himself next to Steve's knees.

He looked up at Steve as his fingers curled around the waistband of his trunks, and tougher men than Steve would have had a hard time not falling in love with him right then and there. His lips, still slick with spit from their kiss, were slightly parted while his bottomless eyes looked at Steve with something akin to worship. Steve's fingers had done a great job of making his dark curls look even messier, and he was almost as proud of that as he was of the red flush that adorned Eddie's throat and cheeks.

"Do it," he order-pleaded, and Eddie listened as he had all night, pulling down Steve’s last piece of clothing and throwing it on the floor next to the bed.

The expression on his face was almost comical, breaking the thick tension in the room for a moment. Steve knew he wasn't exactly small. Not even average, but it had been a while since anyone had stared at his dick like it was a venomous snake.

"It won't bite you, I promise," he joked as the silence between them stretched on.

That at least got a snort out of Eddie, even if his eyes were still glued to his hard and leaking cock, which didn't seem to mind being stared at with a mixture of apprehension and wonder.

"I know that. It's just..." Eddie began before trailing off.

A thought occurred to Steve. "You've seen a dick before, right?"

In retrospect it might have been a bit insulting and a lot stupid to ask, but then again this wasn't exactly his area of expertise.

"Yes, Steve. Besides my own, I've seen dicks. Just not... y'know... a monster dick like that. I mean, fuck. Are you sure this thing will even fit?"

His first reaction was to laugh, because Eddie was funny and adorable in his incredulity, but the laughter died rather quickly as the rest of his words registered with Steve.

"Fit? As in - do you want me to fuck you?"

That finally made Eddie blink up at him, tilting his head like a confused puppy. "Um, yeah? I thought that was the plan all along."

It wasn't. Steve thought he'd show Eddie the ropes, how to handle another body, so he could experience his first time with someone he genuinely cared about. Not that Steve had that when he lost his virginity, but he thought Eddie deserved it.

But if Eddie was sure, Steve was more than happy to oblige. "Just checking in. And don't worry. It'll fit. It always has, it just takes a little patience and a lot of lube." When Eddie still looked a little doubtful, he added, "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." No hesitation, and that made the dangerous feeling in his chest glow brighter.

"Good, that makes it even easier. You need to be comfortable, relaxed. The more you can let go, the easier it will be."

Eddie nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "Okay, Steve. You're the expert. I trust you. Just. Remember, I have no idea what I'm doing, okay?"

Steve sat up and cupped Eddie's cheek in his hand. "I know, and I'll take good care of you, I promise," Steve promised, sealing it with a kiss.

After they parted, he tugged at Eddie's shirt. "You're awfully overdressed, sweetheart. Mind if I help you get out of these?"

With Eddie's consent, Steve undresses him, slowly, reverently. He removed each piece of clothing with the same care as he would handle a precious gem, his hands gentle, making sure to appreciate every inch of skin that was revealed to him. And after his hands have had their fill, his mouth follows, his lips branding his ownership in invisible writing all over Eddie's body.

He paid special attention to Eddie's tattoos, and when he found the nipple piercings, Steve's brain short-circuited. He only stopped playing with them when Eddie was writhing and whimpering from the stimulation, his arousal clear in the way sweat slicked his skin and the outline of his hard cock was visible through his skin-tight jeans.

"Steve, please," he begged, and Steve was pretty sure Eddie didn't even know for what.

"Shh, I got you, baby," Steve had cooed in reply before continuing his mission to get Eddie naked and under him.

Soon the positions were reversed and Eddie was spread out on the bed, naked and wanting, while Steve was kneeling beside him, his hand stroking Eddie's thigh soothingly as he drank him in.

"Fuck, Eddie, I wish you could see yourself right now. You're so fucking beautiful, the prettiest thing I've ever seen. I can't believe you let me have you."

Eddie squirmed, clearly turned on but still self-conscious. Steve vowed to make the latter go away and replace it with nothing but mindless pleasure, helping Eddie let go and float on all the good feelings Steve would make him feel.

He had gotten the lube and a condom out of his bag while Eddie had made himself comfortable, placing them both next to them on the bed. Now he spread some lube on his fingers and warmed it up as he moved to climb between Eddie's legs. His own cock had gone back to half hard, but showed some renewed interest when Eddie immediately spread his legs wider to make room for him.

"Such a good boy, you're just perfect, you know that?"

Then Steve rewarded his good boy with the first finger in his virgin whole. He didn't want it to matter, and it didn't, not in the way Eddie thought it would. But the thought that he was the first to see Eddie like that, to feel him clench around the foreign intrusion before slowly, gradually relaxing as Steve continued to stroke the inside of his thigh with his other hand? It all made more heat pool in his groin, his cock full and heavy again between his own legs.

"That's it," Steve encouraged him as his finger sank in to his knuckle, " taking it so well. How does it feel, baby?"

"Weird," Eddie said truthfully, before wriggling his hips. "Full. Not bad, just. Weird."

Steve took that as all the encouragement he needed to start pumping the finger in and out in imitation of what he planned to do to Eddie with his cock. It went easily and soon Eddie was matching his thrusts with his hips. "That's right, take what you need. You look so good fucking yourself on my finger, sweetheart. You'll look even better on my cock."

Judging that Eddie was ready for a second finger, he leaned forward and softly called for Eddie to look at him. When he did, lifting his head from where he had pressed it into the pillow, Steve caught his eyes and held them as he slowly closed his lips around Eddie's hard cock, taking it into his mouth inch by delicious inch.

It worked like a charm as Eddie was too busy throwing his head back with a broken moan to even notice Steve adding another finger. It was only when he started pumping both fingers in and out while still licking and sucking on Eddie's cock like his favorite ice cream that Eddie seemed to notice, tightening around him for a moment before relaxing again.

Steve rewarded him with a clever swirl of his tongue and a well-aimed crook of his fingers that made Eddie scream.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, what the fuck was that," Eddie gasped as Steve pulled off of him with an obscenely wet sound.

With a third finger prodding at Eddie's slick hole, Steve grinned up at him. "Your prostate."

"I thought that was a myth."

"Nope, not a myth. Just hard to reach by yourself."

He took Eddie back into his mouth, his finger persistently nudging at his entrance until it finally slipped in alongside his other two fingers. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Eddie balling the sheets in his clenched fists, trying not to thrash around too much. The thought of feeling that around his cock was almost too much, as Eddie was incredibly responsive and Steve had to think of something unpleasant for a second to calm himself.

Steve continued to blow and finger Eddie until he could feel Eddie's cock hardening even more in his mouth, signaling his impending orgasm. His three fingers sank into him like a warm knife into butter, no resistance whatsoever, so Steve considered Eddie ready to try and take his 'monster dick' as he had so eloquently put it earlier.

Eddie's whimper as he pulled his fingers out of his body sounded desperate, and when Steve also pulled off his dick, Eddie was right back to begging.

"Please, Steve, I was so close, so fucking close, I need you, please," he babbled, exactly in that mindless place where only his own pleasure mattered instead of his own insecurities.

In a true display of multi-tasking, Steve managed to stroke Eddie's thigh soothingly while simultaneously ripping the condom wrapper open with his teeth. It was almost a shame that Eddie was so far gone that he didn't even notice.

Next time, Steve thought, immediately chastising himself for getting ahead of himself. There was no guarantee that Eddie would want to go out with the guy his friends had paid to deflower him.

"Shh, baby, almost there, just getting ready to make you feel really good. I can't wait to be inside you, Eddie, you have no idea."

Slicking his condom-covered cock, Steve took a pillow from the bed and placed it under Eddie's hips before wrapping Eddie's right leg around his waist as he positioned himself. Eddie looked up at him with dazed eyes, like he was still floating somewhere, not quite here. And even though Steve wanted him to remain there, he needed Eddie's attention right now.

"Sweetheart, I need you to listen to me, can you do that?" He could tell it was a struggle, but shaking his head like he was clearing cowebs, Eddie came back to him. "Thanks, baby, you're still so good for me, aren't you?" Eddie nodded eagerly and Steve continued. "I need you to be a good boy and do what I tell you. When I push in, I need you to press down on it as if you were trying to push me out. Can you try that?" Another nod, this one firm, determined. "And breathe, baby, deep breaths. I got you, we'll take it as slow as you need."

And with that, Steve began to push in, trusting Eddie to work with him. And he did, beautifully, doing exactly what Steve told him to do. Still, it was clear that it was a lot to take, his cock even thicker and longer than his three fingers. It was slow going, every inch fought for, and by the time Steve was halfway in they were both covered in sweat, so Steve decided to take a short break.

Eddie was having none of it, though, and looked up at him pleadingly. "Steve? Please don't stop. I want you inside."

"But I am already inside," Steve reminded him, as if Eddie had forgotten how he was being impaled on Steve's cock right now.

"More." Reaching out for Steve with his hand, Eddie replied with only one word, but it was enough to make Steve fall forward, inadvertently sinking a little further.

He didn't try to stop again.

Then, finally, blessedly, Steve sank all the way in, Eddie's muscles relaxing enough to let him in entirely. It wasn't his first time, far from it, but it could very well have been from the way it made him feel to be enveloped in Eddie's tight heat. Steve couldn't tell who was looking more starry-eyed, Eddie or him, as they stared at each other in wonder.

"You feel," Steve began, suddenly at a loss for words. "Like nothing I've ever felt before."

"Move," Eddie pleaded in reply, his eyes traitorously bright. "Please, Steve."

Steve could never deny him, not when he begged like that, so he simply kissed Eddie's cheek, his nose, and then his lips as his hips withdrew before sinking back in. Picking up a slow and easy rhythm, Steve began to move and soon Eddie was meeting him thrust for thrust.

They moved together in a slow, sensual dance, each touch and caress igniting a fire within them. Each thrust tore another sound from their throats, muffled by each other's lips, because try as he might, he couldn't stop kissing Eddie. And as they lost themselves in the heat of the moment, Steve knew he wouldn't come back from it unchanged. He already felt a sense of connection unlike anything he had ever experienced before. It was as if they were two pieces of a puzzle finally coming together, fitting perfectly.

He just hoped that Eddie felt the same, that it wasn't just the magic of firsts that made him gasp and beg and say things that made Steve's heart soar as much as his cock twitch.

"Steve, Steve, Steve," he cried, his voice cracking, "oh God, I never thought...fuck," another moan as Steve hit his prostate once more. "How do people do anything but this?" Eddie marveled as he tightened around Steve, desperately wanting him to press against that wonderful spot inside him. "I never want to leave this bed again, just let you fuck me all day long."

Oh, how much Steve would love that too. To stop himself from saying something crazy like 'yes, please move in with me so we can fuck as often as possible', he reached for Eddie's hand on his hip and intertwined their fingers next to Eddie's head, squeezing his hand instead of spilling all his messy feelings.

The new position had him sinking further down on Eddie, Eddie's hard cock trapped between their bellies and the added friction had him gasping and panting. "Fuck, Steve, I'm so close."

"Yeah, me too, baby. Can you be a good boy and hold on a little longer for me?"

Unable to form any more words, Eddie just nodded. Steve rewarded him with another deep kiss as his hips picked up speed, his thrusting becoming more powerful as he finally allowed himself to chase his own pleasure. He wanted, needed them to come together, and judging by the copious amount of pre-cum smeared against their bellies and the way Eddie's cock kept twitching, Eddie was really close.

As he felt the telltale signs of his own orgasm spreading through him, his balls tightening and the feeling of a coil in his groin being pulled tight enough to snap at any moment, he lowered his face to Eddie's ear, took the lobe between his teeth and tugged at it to get his attention. Then, putting every ounce of heat, lust and desire he felt right now into his voice, he rasped, "Come for me, baby."

Without a hand on him, Eddie came with a sound that burned itself into Steve's memory and would surely haunt his dreams for weeks and months to come.

Overwhelmed by Eddie's sounds as he lost himself in his own pleasure, his hips bucking and grinding, Steve couldn't help but follow him over the edge. When he finally came, it was almost painful in its intensity and he could barely keep himself upright.

It took him an embarrassingly long time to catch his breath, and even longer to pull himself away from Eddie long enough to get rid of the condom and fetch a washcloth from the bathroom to clean the cum from their bellies and chests.

Then he turned off the light, crawled back into bed with Eddie and pulled the covers over them before drawing Eddie into his arms, who went willingly, still suspiciously quiet. Steve would have been more concerned had it not been for the dazed smile on his face, so he decided to let him be for the moment, basking in the afterglow as he continued to stroke Eddie's back.

What felt like hours later, as they lay tangled in each other's arms, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window, Steve pressed a gentle kiss to Eddie's temple, feeling a surge of affection and contentment wash over him.

"I'm glad you decided to go for that ride," he whispered, warmth coloring his voice.

Eddie snuggled closer, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Me too," he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of happiness and wonder.

And as they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's embrace, Steve knew he had found something truly special in Eddie. Tomorrow he would tell Robin to give the guys their money back because Eddie hadn't been a client from the start. It was way too soon to even think about it, but deep down he hoped that theirs would be the kind of love that was as beautiful and enduring as the stars in the night sky.

[ladymirdan]

I have always been on the fence about Female Space Marines, and that is mostly because I'm not happy with my own assigned gender (and the fact I like submissive men and dominant women and space marines are extremely sub almost all of them, fight me about it)

But like, seeing the outrage over female Custodes. I'm urging, no begging, GW to release them.

I want every crying, “lore expert” who never read a single book, but just binged some loretuber who read straight off a wiki that never held canon info in the first place, (man im heavily dyslexic and I have no spare time to speak off, but even I at least get the audiobooks), I want these dudes to just burn their armies in rage. (and leave the hobby, dont forgett that very important part)

“Dont make Warhammer political”, get the fuck out of here. 40k was created by a bunch of nerds so angry at Margaret Thatcher they created a satire so heavily influenced by Monthy Python that I'm convinced John Cleese got paid off in cool minis to keep him from suing them.

Warhammer didnt go woke, it was always made by the left. We look at the older stuff and forget that it was created in a different(worse) time, and they have consistently tried to do better.

Look at old Forum posts about Graham McNeill. “Wäääh, why is he always writing about women, communist cuck McNeill” (not those exact words but general sentiment)

Like, I give McNeill so much shit today for how all women he writes about face horrible fates (but to be fair, what men doesn't have a terrible fate too). But I have even forgotten that some of this stuff is about 25 years old.

Seeing Warhammers official page block people who acts out in the comments about this, seeing them double down on the fact thar Custodes can have any gender. Seeing authors of the franchise, new and old back all of this. Im feeling Vindicated.

Gods, I wish this is the last straw for the alt-rights too stupid to realise they are being satirized.

And in the famous words of Games Workshop:

[hawkinsbnbg]

Eddie asked Steve to help with his oral fixation, and Steve agreed.

tags: rimming, a dash of daddy kink & breeding kink

"You want me what?" Steve turned away from the TV to squint at his roommate.

"I have this thing call oral fixation," Eddie explained easily. "Which means I need to get my mouth busy all the time."

Steve hummed noncommittally and nodded in understanding. "I see, we can buy lollipops–"

Eddie cut him off with a chaste kiss that turned heated quickly.

"I think you're already sweet enough for me, angel." Eddie whispered once they parted with a transparent thread connecting their lips.

Blushing, he laughed weakly and pushed Eddie away. "Alright, I'm gonna help you, dude. Don't need to butter me up like that."

"I know you're my favorite for a reason, Stevie," Eddie grinned, all sunshine and rainbow again when he wasn't trying to shove his tongue down Steve's throat.

And Steve was too eager to help that it never crossed his mind friends didn't made out with each other and called it a day.

Since then, Eddie would just sidle up behind him every time he was in the middle of something, bend him over any surface that was available at the moment, tugged his shorts down, and eat him out.

Once Eddie was done, he would clean Steve up nicely, tucked him in, and walked away as if nothing had ever happened.

Leaving Steve staring in bewilderment and arousal.

They never talked about it. They just treated it as this special thing between them, their little secret.

It also helped that they lived together. More convenient for Eddie whenever his craving decided to act up.

Gradually, it became their routine, they could be watching TV on the couch and Eddie would flip him over, burying his face into Steve's ass before digging into it.

Steve never thought having someone rim him would be cozy.

But Eddie always managed to surprise him most days, and this was no exception either.

Sometimes, he'd get so comfortable that he just dozed off and then woke up feeling floaty with Eddie's fingers combing through his hair gently.

Or occasionally, he'd simply read a book while Eddie lapped at his hole for hours.

It felt almost domestic if he dared to say.

Things remained like that until one day, when Eddie kept licking at that bundle of nerves, Steve didn't even have time to react before he came.

His moan was loud and high-pitched, and Steve blushed terribly once he realized what just happened.

"Did I just...?" He glanced back at Eddie, wide eyed and disbelieved.

"You just did, baby boy," Eddie grinned at him like a shark, red tongue tracing the pearly canines that always painted reds and purples on Steve's cheeks and thighs.

Steve didn't know what to do. He had grown to enjoy the feeling of Eddie's tongue fucking him so much that he just had an orgasm due to it.

It should give him shame and

embarrassment, but all he felt was a burning need to fill the hollowness inside him.

He wanted to be full.

"Can I ask you something?" Steve licked his lips nervously.

"Yeah? What is it?" Eddie stroked his lower back soothingly, but those eyes were dark and heavy as they pinned him in place.

"Can you give me more?" Steve breathed slowly, the air was so charged that it was almost suffocating.

"More what?" Eddie raised a curious brow while petting his hole temptingly.

"More than your tongue," Steve bit out, muscles pulled taut and heart racing.

He couldn't help but arch his ass toward those calloused fingers, seeking and craving for more.

Without warning, Eddie slipped a finger inside him and proceeded to pull out and push in slowly.

"Like this?"

Steve gasped and tried to clench down on the thick and long digit.

Granted, he had fingered himself multiple times, but when Eddie did it, it just hit different.

Surreal, thrilling, and exciting were all he could sum up.

"Eddie," he moaned, breathless and needy.

"Yeah, baby?" Eddie added another slicked finger and if Steve wasn't too horny to care, he'd definitely remember that they didn't stash lube anywhere nearby.

"Fuck me," he rolled his eyes back as Eddie stroked that spot again. "Bet y– your cock would reach deeper, feel better."

"Jesus," Eddie let out an amused huff. "When did you become such a slut, hm?" He crooked his fingers, making Steve see the fucking Milky Way. "What did you do to my good boy who'd blush prettily every time I teased him?"

"Your good boy is asking you to fuck him," Steve whined and undulated his hips to chase after that toes-curling pleasure.

"Is that so?" Eddie chuckled and retreated his fingers.

Before Steve could complain, he felt something hot and thick slowly breached his loose hole.

By the time Eddie was seated fully inside him, he was drooling and cross eyed, being stuffed full and stretched to the seams.

"Still good?" Hot lips brushed against the shell of his ear.

"Y– Yeah," he slurred. "Sooo good."

Eddie was nothing he imagined. Somehow, Eddie was better than tongue and fingers could ever be.

"Gonna fuck you til you cry," Eddie murmured huskily, full of promise and hunger. "Gonna ruin you for good."

Steve couldn't say anything, mouth agape as the source of heat inside him started moving, dragging every little noise and breathy moan out of him.

He felt drunk, high, and stupid. If only he didn't chicken out every time he was about to confess to Eddie, then they could've had this sooner.

He'd have been railed to his heart's content, would've been allowed to taste Eddie's cock, would've had Eddie in his bed instead of having to jerk himself off roughly in his room after being eaten out by Eddie every time.

He had wasted so much time, missed so many chances.

"Love you," he mewled into his folded arms. "Love you so much, Eddie. Love your stupid cock, love your stupid tongue, love your stupid smiles."

Eddie cursed quietly and stopped moving. The lack of motions got Steve whine his complaint loudly.

"Did you mean it?" Eddie nipped the tip of his ear, voice so low and raspy that it almost sounded like a growl.

When Steve took too long to answer, Eddie snapped his hips and punched out a chocked-off moan out of him.

"Did you mean it, Steve?"

"I m– meant it," he nodded blindly.

Eddie pulled out and carefully flipped him on his back. "Say it again."

Now, they were face to face, Steve suddenly felt shy. He made grabby hands at Eddie, needing close contact to soothe his nerves.

Eddie's features softened visibly as he gathered Steve into his lap.

He cupped Steve's face gently and placed tender kisses on it.

Meanwhile, Steve couldn't stand the emptiness inside him any longer, so he grabbed Eddie's cock and impelled himself on it once more.

The new angle knocked his breath away, making him dizzy and delirious.

"I love you," he sighed softly, feeling more settled when he was full.

"Love you too, sweetheart," Eddie held him securely and kissed him fondly. "My pretty cock slut, aren't you?"

"Mhm," he wrapped his arms around broad shoulders and met those brown eyes, so sweet and loving. "All yours, daddy."

That was the last coherent thing he uttered.

Because as soon as he let the title slip, Eddie had railed him within an inch of his life until he forgot his own name.

At some point, he had convinced Eddie to take off the condom.

"Don't you want to knock me up, daddy?"

Apparently, Eddie was a huge perv and more than on board with Steve's baby fever.

Needless to say, they had had spent a long time in the shower later to help Steve wash out the cum.

But in Steve's opinion, it was worth all the trouble when Eddie got on his knees and ate him out until he cried and squirted messily on the tiled floor.

Afterward, once they both left the bathroom in fresh clothes and climbed into bed together, they had talked and kissed and giggled before drifting off in each other's arms.

Who would've thought helping out your friend would lead you to your happiness?

Definitely not Steve.

Not that he would complain when it led him to Eddie, though.

———

Anyway, I live for free use!Steve who's only available for Eddie.

Steve: *simply exists*

Eddie: Oh my god, all of this goodness just for me?

[wordsbyrian]

Surgeries and Surprises - Alex Morgan x Reader

Summary: "Skater!R gets injured", "Skater!R skates in XGames", "IDK but more Skater!R"

A/n: Look, I finally wrote a thing you guys! From multiple request for more Skater!R

Despite popular belief, skateboarding is an incredibly multifaceted activity.

There are so many different disciplines: street, vert, park, freestyle, downhill (and its variation street luge), and cruising.

For the first four, there are different competitions that skaters can compete in if they are so inclined. And in all honesty, you are usually not inclined to compete, preferring the unpredictable nature of actual street skating to the polished finish of comps like Street League, XGames, and Dew Tour.

But the chance to be one of the first skateboarders to compete in the Olympics.

Well, that’s not really something you can pass up on.

Which is why you’re skating in your 5th comp of the summer.

Not the worst schedule but you’re an idiot and made the choice to also try and get clips for your next video parts in your very limited free time.

Free time, that was only made more limited by the way you were constantly flying back and forth to France to support your wife in the World Cup.

All of this is to say that your body is currently going through it.

And, unluckily, it’ll keep going through it because XGames comps are not set up in a way that plays to your strengths, with only three 45 seconds runs to string together a line and show the judges what you can do.

Luckily, on the other hand, your flight out of Minneapolis is booked for immediately after the contest ends.

Your first two timed runs went pretty well but you know you can do better which is why you saved your best stuff for your final run.

And for the most part, your final run goes pretty well until you get to your last trick with 10 seconds remaining.

You had planned it out perfectly so that you had enough time to take a breath before giving it a go. A necessary precaution for a trick you're familiar with but not a master at, a frontside flip noseslide to fakie, especially since you’re trying it down the biggest obstacle, the 4-block rail.

A little homage to Reynolds, something you’ve been doing throughout the contest season.

Except there are a couple of problems.

The first is that, unlike Reynolds, you are not a master of the frontside flip.

The other is that after a long day of being skated by just about everyone, the rail had picked up the wax from everyone’s boards, making it slicker than you need it to be for your noseslide.

Which is why you aren’t very surprised when you hit the ground. The only surprising thing is how much it hurts.

You immediately roll over and begin to stand up and take a few steps, only to drop to one knee after barely making it anywhere.

As you try to gather the strength to stand again, you’re stopped by someone placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Stay down, Y/N/N.” It’s Reynolds. “You just used your head as a basketball and your arm is fucked. They’re bringing out a stretcher.”

“I’m fine,” you say, trying to get up again. “I don’t need a stretcher.”

His hand gets firmer and you feel him pushing you to sit down properly.

“I’m serious, Y/N, I’m serious,” he says. “I’m telling you this as your friend, not as your boss. You need to go to the hospital, your shit is fucked.”

It’s at this moment that you realize how quiet the arena is.

It’s almost as if you can hear the individualized breaths of everyone in the building and honestly, it's making your head pound in a way that you wish you weren’t familiar with.

Then you see the EmTs rolling the stretcher towards you.

“Fuck dude,” you groan, resigning yourself to your fate. “Just don’t call Alex, man, she’s gonna freak out.”

“It’s too late, she already texted me she’s trying to get on the next flight out.”

“Shit.”

The entire process of letting the EMTs do their jobs is a hassle because it’s painfully obvious that they don’t deal with skateboarders often. And it takes a lot of convincing for you to even let them strap you to the backboard.

Your memory blurs out a bit after that.

The only thing you really remember besides waking up in the hospital is telling Reynolds to make sure that they don’t give you anything stronger than a Tylenol (that didn’t happen).

When you regain consciousness it’s to the sound of voices, two you recognize and one you don’t.

“She should be coming out of the anesthesia soon,” the recognizable voice says, a doctor maybe. “In addition to her mild concussion, there were some moderate tears to her deltoid that were repaired in surgery. Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do about the fractures to the humeral head as we can’t cast the area.”

“She’s not going to like the sound of that,” you hear Alex say, “Not going to like that at all.”

“Unfortunately, whether she likes it or not doesn’t really matter. She needs to be in the sling for a few weeks at least,” the doctor says.

“Alright, thanks doc,” Reynolds' loud voice makes the headache you forgot you had worse. “Don’t worry Alex, she’s been through worse. Besides, the medal will make her feel better.”

“Not now Andrew.”

The door to your room opens a tiny bit and through squinted eyes, you watch as both your wife and mentor slip through the crack, closing the door behind them.

When they get close enough that you can make out the details on their faces, you stick your hand out to Alex and attempt to pull her into the hospital bed with you.

She doesn’t let you though and instead releases your hand to pull the only chair closer to the bed.

“Not so fast, hotshot,” she says, keeping her voice low.

“I told Andrew to tell you that you didn’t need to come all the way out here. You should be at home resting,” you tell her.

“And I told him that I was already on my way to the airport.”

“And I told you,” Reynolds says, frowning at you, “that I wasn’t going to risk having your wife mad at me.”

You roll your eyes at him.

“Now here’s your medal, silver’s not too bad considering you knocked yourself out,” he says, placing the item on the edge of the bed. “I’ll see you around bro.”

Both you and Alex watch as he quickly exits the room, moving sort of like his ass is on fire, and leaving the two of you alone.

The second the door fully shuts behind him you turn back to Alex and see more than her sigh deeply.

“How do you feel…”

“Why weren’t you…”

You both try to speak at the same time.

“No, you go ahead,” you tell her.

“Well, first of all, were you just about to ask how I’m feeling while you are literally laying in a hospital bed,” she asks.

You shrug somewhat sheepishly and say, “I mean you just flew halfway across the country and I know you haven’t been feeling the best lately.”

“Y/N/N, you’re ridiculous.”

“Anyway,” she says, rolling her eyes at you, “Why weren’t you wearing a helmet? You can only smash your head so many times before the damage is irreversible and I don’t like constantly being called to hospitals wondering if this time is the one.”

You take a second to let her words sink in.

She’s right.

Ever since the two of you reconnected and subsequently got together roughly 4 years ago, you’ve been injured quite a bit.

This is your 3rd concussion and 4th broken. You’ve also ruptured your achilles, cracked a few ribs, had one of your lungs collapse, and gotten over 50 stitches from various gashes gained from getting cut open skating some sketchy spots.

That’s not even counting the smaller ones that you haven’t told her about, like when you sprained your ankle visiting her during the Rio Olympics.

But admitting that Alex is right has never been something you’re great at.

So instead you just scoot over in the bed and ask her to lay down with you again.

It takes a bit of pleading but you do get her to join you and when she does, you’re quick to wiggle around into a position that's comfortable but still allows you to hold her.

With the knowledge that your current position makes it impossible for her to see your face, you can’t help but crack a joke.

“C'mon, babe, you know that helmets are for hills and hills only,” you say, finally answering her question, only to immediately recoil as she pinches you. “Okay, I’m sorry. I know I really freaked you out today and I hate that I keep forcing you to come see me in hospitals. And I…” she cuts you off.

“You’re not forcing me to do anything,” she protests, keeping her voice light. “I love you even though you seem dead set on destroying your body.”

“It’s not really on purpose,” you say, pulling her impossibly closer. “I don’t know how to explain it but sometimes when I skate it’s like an out-of-body experience. Nothing matters except how good it’s gonna feel when I roll away. I can barely even think straight when I’m on my board but that obviously means I don’t think about how my choices affect others and that’s not fair to you.”

When you finish speaking, the first thing you hear from your wife is a sigh that can only be described as annoyed.

“What,” you ask.

“You’re an idiot,” she says.”

“Babe,” your voice is indignant, and too loud even to your own ears.

“I’m sorry but you’re so dumb,” she says. “I’m not concerned because of how it affects me, I care about how it affects you. You’ve been acting strangely all summer and I don’t really want to see where this path takes you.”

Once again Alex is right.

And her pointing out your recent odd behavior, something you hadn’t noticed yourself, is like a bucket of ice water over your head.

Taking a deep breath, you nod even though she can’t see you and say, “I think I need to call my sponsor.”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

Unfortunately, between your concussion and having to travel back to Orlando, the call to your sponsor had to wait a few days.

And in those few days, you begin to really notice the behaviors Alex had mentioned.

Even before your injury, you were stressed and anxious but you had ignored it, believing it was tied to the comps and upcoming deadlines.

But now with those things mostly out of the way, the intensity of these feelings is familiar and you aren’t very fond of the places you ended up the last few times you felt like this.

And the isolation of being trapped at home, unable to do much more than stare at the walls and wait for Alex to get back from training, only made those feelings stronger.

When you’re finally able to make that call and the first words finally come out of your mouth, it’s as though the weight of the world comes off your shoulders.

Recovery isn’t an instant process but you do instantly feel a little better as you explain your recent behaviors that you now recognize as somewhat erratic.

And when the call ends, you have a list of dates, times, and locations so you can go to a meeting whenever you need to.

The only thing that's really left for you to do is talk to your wife when she gets home but that might be the hardest part.

So you wait, completing as many boring household tasks as you can to make the time pass more quickly.

It doesn’t really work that well because you only have one arm to work with. And you're just unlucky enough that it's your dominant hand out of commission.

You’re in the middle of unloading the dishwasher when you hear the front door open and shut.

It doesn’t take long for Alex to find you and in the back of your mind, you know that the only reason she didn’t shout your name across the house like she normally does is because of your lingering headache.

“Hey babe,” you hear her greet as you bend over to place a pot in its designated cabinet.

“Hi,” you respond, standing back up and turning to face her, only to see that she’s already taken a seat at the island. “Oh, that’s the serious conversation chair,” you note, going to lean on the counter opposite her.

“I mean it is serious but it’s nothing bad.”

“If it’s nothing bad, do you mind if I go first,” you ask, “Mine isn’t bad either but I finally got around to giving Noah a call.”

When you say that it's almost as though you can feel the energy in the room shift.

“How did that go?”

“It definitely went.”

“Are you going to elaborate or…”

Sighing deeply, you shuffle your feet, focusing on the way your socks slip over the tile.

“Apparently, when you’re really stressed and overly tired your brain chemistry changes,” you tell her, now looking up at the ceiling. “Which makes people look for things to relieve the stress, which can be a bad thing for addicts. And between the video parts, qualifiers, and flying all over the place, I haven’t actually had a chance to sit down and think, much less attend a meeting. But now, when I would’ve had a chance to, I can barely be in a room with lights on for more than 15 minutes.”

There’s a moment of silence before Alex responds and as it passes, you can feel your heart sink further and further into your stomach. This is the moment that she finally decides that being with you is far more work than it's worth.

Your downward spiral is broken by the sound of her voice.

“I guess that means that we have to come up with ways for you to handle stress when you're busy,” Alex says, “because you’re only about to get busier.”

“What? No, I’m not, the next two competitions are at the end of the month and I literally can’t skate for the next month and a half.”

“3 months,” she shoots back, “and yes you will.”

“You’re not making any sense Alex.”

Alex gets up from her seat and makes her way toward you. Before you know it, she’s reaching out for your good hand, which to this point has had a death grip on the counter behind you, not that you’ve noticed.

With a confused look on your face, you watch as she pulls your hand to rest against her stomach before covering it with both of her own.

Still confused, it takes you longer than you’d like to admit to figure out why she would do that.

It’s only when you remember the seemingly never-ending nausea Alex has been dealing with that you connect the dots.

“Oh shit.”

[bluecollarmcandtf]

"Dude, I took over your dad's body.."

"...and goddamn is there a lot of him to work with! I've been a ghost for years now, but I've never been inside a 6' 3" ex-linebacker! I've been checking him out all afternoon, and let me tell you that this man is big and hairy all over," he punctuates his comment with a wink.

Your dad, the man you've looked up to your entire life, is saying things you don't want to think about while casually laying on the couch in nothing but a robe and booty shorts. The urge to puke is suppressed, but you know that Jimmy has crossed a line here. Your deceased friend has possessed bullies, professors, and more, but he's never had the balls to take over your own family. What was he thinking?

"I jumped into him while he was at work. I think his coworkers probably found it strange when I picked up his briefcase and waddled his ass out the door," Jimmy chuckles at the memory, "But don't worry. Your old man had plenty of sick days he wasn't gonna use."

It doesn't take long for you to burst out in anger at the spirit controlling your father. Your face is hot, and you can't stand to watch your dad get puppetted around like a fool!

"Calm the fuck down!" he swears uncharacteristically, "Give this big guy a hug. Come here. Daddy needs some love..."

The thought of hugging your father while he's being forced to act like this feels wrong, but you relent. A part of you is glad for the embrace. It might not actually be your dad, but paternal comfort is exactly what you need right now, and your real dad isn't the type to give his child a hug.

"That's it, son," Jimmy pets your head with your father's thick hands, "Let daddy take care of you. Let your dumb old fart-of-a-father give you some much-needed attention."

You can't help but chuckle at the self-deprecating joke. Your real dad was too proud to laugh at himself, and he'd never made an effort to be anything other than distant and formal with you. In fact, there was a lot your real dad would never do; he'd never leave the office in the middle of the day, he'd never lay around the house like a lazy bum, and he'd certainly never let his hairy chest and thick legs be on full display in front of his disappointing gay son.

Suddenly, while still embraced, you realize there's something poking into your waist.

"Sorry, dude," your father whispers in your ear, "I guess your dad is just happy to see you."

You push him away, insisting that Jimmy needs to stay out of family members' bodies because this just feels so wrong! You search the pair of unnaturally blank eyes for any sign that Jimmy might be listening to you.

"You need to relax, bro," your dad (Jimmy) groans in annoyance. He looks disappointed, but then he sparks up and gives you a new look of excitement. "Son," he says with exaggerated machismo, "Take a page from my book and learn to chill out. It doesn't matter what the world thinks about you or me. I'll prove it to you..."

With a placid grin and blank gaze, your father lumbers past and marches straight out the front door of the house. You're almost too stunned to follow. Was Jimmy really going to parade your dad's body around the neighborhood in nothing but his robe?

"Afternoon, neighbor," your father's rumbling tone bellows across the street, "Lovely weather, today. My son thought I should take my fat hairy gut for a little stroll in the sun. You know us dads have got to keep our boys happy. Am I right?"

Mr. Jones stares at your father from his porch, just as shocked as you are. He often drank beers with this man and every other neighborhood dad at backyard barbecues and living room game watches. This was not how he normally interacted with the man, and it obviously struck him as weird.

"You alright, Bob?" he asks hesitantly.

"Right as rain, neighbor!" Jimmy answers with a tone that's too goofy to pass as my dad's, "If that's how you're staring at me now, I wonder what'll happen if I take this robe off..."

Before Mr. Jones can process the flirtation in your father's voice, you shuffle your dad further down the street and away from the whole interaction. That may have been hilarious, but Jimmy was going to destroy any reputation and respect your father had around here!

You demand to know where Jimmy is going with this body. It's not like you have any ability to even slow the ghost down when he's got the weight and strength of your 200 lb father.

"I'm thinking the park. Your dad could use some cardio," he smirks, an unfamiliar expression on the grown man's face, "Or maybe the public bathroom on the north end. You know, it has that hole in the stall..."

No amount of reasoning or arguments can change Jimmy's mind. Apparently he's set on wearing your father to the city's most notorious gay hookup spot.

"Don't look at me like that," his gravelly voice sounds amused by your frustration, "With me in charge, your dad will be the dirtiest slut that bathroom's ever seen. Don't you think it'll be funny to see such a massive, manly bear serving man after man in there?"

You sigh in disbelief.

"Or...maybe I don't have to rent out your dad's body to a bunch of strangers..."

You wonder where he's going with this. It sounds like an ultimatum is coming, and you don't like the idea of your crazy dead friend giving you an ultimatum.

"...your dad could hold off on bottoming for strangers...if...you let him be your submissive little bitch."

The choice is an annoying one, but you're pretty sure you can't let your dad have unprotected sex with strangers in a public place. This is what he'd want right?

"That's what I thought," the grin on your father's face twists maniacally. He tussles your hair like he's the proudest dad in the world, "Let's head on back home, buddy. Daddy's gonna lick every inch of sweat off that body of yours. He's got years of emotional absence to make up for."

One of his beefy arms cradles your back and turns you around. You're relieved to no longer be headed towards the public bathroom, but you're still a little nervous about what awaits you at home. How does Jimmy expect you to enjoy any of this when it's your dad doing all these things to you?

"Daddy's gonna treat you to a night that's all about you," he goes on, "Cooking you dinner, rubbing your feet, cuddling on the couch, and so much more. I want you to think of some humiliating things daddy can do for you while we walk back. Make sure they're extra degrading or your dad will just have to step out of the house and degrade himself where the entire city can see..."

The last comment gives you butterflies in your stomach, but it also gives you a bit of a hard-on. Maybe Jimmy playing with your dad wasn't so scary of an idea after all. With him possessed, anything was on the table: personal affirmations, some much needed bonding, roleplay, revenge, humiliation. Heck, you could even give your father a golden shower and Jimmy would have him smiling through it!

Walking home, you steal glances at your dad, towering over you as his rotund gut leads the way. Home can't come fast enough!

[koliejeon]

Tainted by You - JJK

╰┈➤ 𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: nerd yandere jk x queen bee reader!

╰┈➤ 𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: who would have thought that being tainted by the nerd Jeon Jungkook would feel this good.

╰┈➤ 𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 3.3k+

╰┈➤ 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: manipulation, gaslighting, dumbification cock riding, fingering, dom jk, sub! reader, cream pie, squirting, size kink, blackmailing, yandere jk, slightly mean jk, degradation.

You're considered the queen bee of your university, the one who's always seen as the epitome of perfection, with everyone admiring how much of a pretty face and a smart student you are. Being looked up to by everyone on this kind of level really boosts your ego, so it's a shame if anyone would know how much of a  moaning bitch you are while riding the cock of the biggest nerd in school, Jeon Jungkook. 

But It's not your fault that he just fucks you too good... 

He’s just too good at it that you can’t help youself coming back for more, even if you fully knew that this would taint your reputation as a queen bee. I mean, everyone’s expecting you to date someone who’s on your level, and not just a nerd dude with a messy curly black hair and thick glasses that just covers his features. 

But to your defense, he’s not what everyone is thinking of him of. That boy who’s always shy around people, and just keeps himself accompanied with his books has a totally different persona when it’s just the two of you alone. He’s not shy, he’s actually arrogant, mean, manipulative and hot…

Yeah, hot… like how hot the depts of hell could feel like.

It all started last month when your stupid history professor decided to paired you up with him for a project. You didn’t have a problem with it, you thought that with this project, he might open up with you and to others instead of being that awkward nerd guy that everyone hates.

╰┈➤ 𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙝

The bell rang as a sign that the class discussion has already ended and that it’s now time for lunch. “You may now leave the class, don’t forget to communicate with your partners and discuss the project” Mr. Lim, your History professor, reminded to everyone as they started packing their things to leave the class. Some replied a simple “yes” to him, while some didn’t bother and just hurriedly leave the room before the canteen seats would run out.

“Y/N, hurry up, let’s go now!” Jennie, who’s one of your friends said to you as she’s waiting for you near the classroom’s door. You smiled at here and was about to say something along the lines of “Yeah, i’m coming,” but you got distracted when you saw the boy in one of the backseats, he looks so lonely in there packing his things ever so slowly – probably taking his time since no one is inviting him anyway to go for a lunch, and for some reason you felt pity for him. “Actually, just go ahead first, I remember I have something to do this time” you lied to her, and she simply just agreed to what you said as she quickly tag along with her other friends.

Now it’s just the two of you alone in the classroom, you awkwardly approach him… unsure of how to start a conversation with him. “Uhm… Jungkook right?” you asked even know the answer is already obvious.  He looked up at you and stared at you for atleast 5 seconds before responding “Y-yeah that’s me” he managed to mutter that out with a little stutter. You thought he was just shy, and you hate it. This is literally the reason why he’s being made fun of by those bullies. You brushed off that thought as you brightly smiled at him, “Great! I’m Y/N, Mr. Lim paired us up for the project. I suggest if we start doing it as early as possible” 

“I’m okay with that” he simply replied.

“I’m free later, are you okay with that? I just don’t know where we can do the project though, My apartment is not that great since it’s small and I’m sharing it with Jennie” You stated, already feeling comfortable in conversing with him even though he’s not literally replying anything and just looking at you. You  guess he’s more of a listener rather than a talker. “Aha! How about we do the project at your place?”  you suggested out of nowhere. The project has to do with arts and crafts, so coffee shops are not the best place to do the project. 

Jungkook eyes seemed to widen from being shock with what you’ve said. He can't even believe it. You want to go to his house??? This is something straight out from his dreams.

“Y-yeah…sure, why not” he was really glad and euphoric that you’ve said that, but his reply came like he was just forced to say yes.  “Great! You can send me your address” you said, and he frowned but not enough for you to notice, what do you mean by that? You don’t wanna go with him together at his house later? “Uhm… lets just go together later” he suggested, and you nervously chuckled, no way your gonna go with him after class, people might see you and probably make fun of you for hanging out with a weird guy like him.

“But-”

“It’s kind of far away from here and you might get lost” he explained without stuttering, while straightly looking in your eyes. Those thick glasses might have cover his intense gaze, but definitely not the tension that’s starting to form in the room.

There’s this something from his aura, it’s like a sudden change that you could clearly figure out, but it surely made you nervous as you gulped. You wanted to say something but you were unable to get the right word out of your mouth, so instead you simply just agreed with him “...m’kay” you said while looking at the ground like a child who got declined by your parents to buy the toy that you wanted in the store. 

Yeah, you wanted to somehow talk to him, but not like this!  You were sulking with the idea and Jungkook found it cute that he smirk at your behavior. He broke the silence by saying good bye to you for now, “So I guess were already settled? I’ll see you at the parking lot” 

╰┈➤ 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙥𝙨 - 𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙤𝙩

It’s already 6 PM when I headed in the parking lot as I try to spot where Jungkook might be. Classes are already finished at 5:30 PM but I made sure to be late so that no one familiar would spot me getting onto Jungkook’s vehicle. This almost feels like I’m doing some sort of a crime, even though I am not. After a few minutes of searching he spots me and raised his hand to get my attention. I immediately went into his direction and damn… I just don’t know how to feel.

He’s leaning in a black sedan that I suppose is his with his left hand in his pocket and the other hand holding a cigarette. This is the only time that I’ve noticed he has veiny hands. Just what the actual fuck! It feels like I’m looking at the same person from an hour ago! He’s definitely not the typical nerd you get to see everyday. I mean, a nerd with a sedan who’s looking hot as ever while smoking?! I was basically gawking at the new sight, and I only got out from my delusions when he cleared his throat.

“Let’s go?” He said as he throw the cigarette on the ground and stomped on it. “Yeah” is the only thing I was able to mutter as I went to the passenger side of his car. I buckled my seatbelt on, and he started driving. He was wearing a ripped jeans and a grey Calvin Clien hoodie that he later on re-adjusted, exposing his left arm that is covered with tattoos. Do I even fully know this guy??? It seems like all those school gossips about him are just pure lies.

He was not lying, his house was really a bit far from the University, not to mention the slight traffic on the way. His house was located somewhere inside of an expensive looking village.

“You live here?” You asked after getting out of his car. The house was big, and looks expensive with a modern touch to its’ architecture. “Yeah, my parents gifted it to me last year” he replied like it was nothing as he guided you through the main entrance of his house. What kind of parents would gift their child an expensive house?! For fucks sake he didn’t even graduated yet or is about to get married. His parents must be crazy rich like those in the movies.

“I already have the needed materials, is it okay for you to wait here? I just needed to freshen up”

“Ugh… yeah sure. I’ll just play some music in my phone” I said, and he simply chuckled before opening the television for me without saying anything. I feel poor being here., well yeah my parents are also well-off, but not on this level!  Waiting for him for at least 25 minutes was boring so I just made myself at home as I watched the movie playing in the television. 

“You should take a picture” he suddenly said which caught me off guard

“I- what?”

“You’re looking at me a little too much”

“No I wasn’t!” I tried to deny it even though it was already obvious as my face became as red as a tomato from being so embarrassed, that I choosed to look on the floor, being shy to even look at him” Inside of my head, I was scolding myself for acting that way, he must have now think of me as a pervert!

He started approaching me, and before I knew it, he lifted up my chin as he cupped my face with both of his hands so that I would look at him. We we’re both looking at each other’s eyes, and then everything just happened so fast, I didn’t even know why I let It happen, but we we’re now passionately kissing as both of our tongues fought for dominance in which he obviously won. We were now in his bedroom but before things could  get even more heated, I tap his shoulder thrice as a sign that I want it to stop. Gladly, he accepted my request and pulled back, “This is wrong” I simply told him, and a that made him ‘tsk’ as his face contorted an annoyed look.

“Wrong? Tell me what’s wrong about this Y/N?!” He answered back, he’s clearly not liking what I’ve told him but him. I can’t just answer him by saying that I don’t want to be associated with someone like him, people would make fun of me, and my reputation as a queen bee who’s always been perfect would be tainted. I don’t want them to think that choosing Jungkook was a bad decision, and that I’ve made a wrong decision. But I just can’t also tell that to Jungkook, I don’t want him to feel bad himself even though those are the true reason. I remained silent without moving a single inch of my body, my hand are still in his shoulder while he’s arms are wrapped on my waist. We were standing in the middle of the room, but even though were close enough, I didn’t had the urge to look in his eyes even though I know that he’s  looking at me with burning gaze.

“What? You don’t know how to answer now? Cat got your tongue? Or  you’re stupid little mind can’t just comprehend simple things?!” All his words hurt like hell, I didn’t even realize he could say such mean things to me, when all I knew is that we was that shy nerd boy at the back of the class who doesn’t even know how to fight back from his bullies. “Stupid Y/N, can’t even explain herself” he continued belittling me and it was all to much that I burst out and cry myself in his chest. He was shocked for a while but then embraced me in his arms as he let me cry all my worries while shushing me down “Shhh it’s okay darling, I know you’re little brain hurts from thinking too much, you don’t have to think, that’s my job, and you only have to follow what I say, right? It’s true, my mind was clouded and it hurts, so I just let him embrace me while drawing circles on my back.

It stayed like that for a while but then Jungkook drop the bomb, “I know you think it’s wrong because it would taint your reputation. Their poor queen bee Lee Y/N dating the nerd Jeon Jungkook? Doesn’t sound good to them right?” I look up at him, unable to say anything, and that just made me tear up more. “I’m sorry” I muttered to him as I buried myself in his bare chest, the citrus scent of his body wash engulfing my nostrils.

“Shhh… it’s okay baby, I know how much you love the attention the campus is giving you, it makes your dumb ego grow right? But the thing is, you ONLY need my attention”

“I’m sorry - Y/N’s really sorry” I said, already at my worst point as I continued to cry. I feel like a bad person based on what’s he’s telling me, but that’s the truth, I’m too self-concious of what people will say to me, I’m someone who starved attention, and I just feel bad that Jungkook has to know that side of me, and I’m now thinking that I hurted his feelings because I was too selfish. So I kept on apologizing “Gguk, Y/N’s sorry, please forgive her”

Jungkook smirked in victory, he knew he fully had you in control, oh just how easy it is to manipulate you. To break you into pieces so that he can fix you again, and then make feel like he’s the only one who can fix and save you from yourself.

“Shh… I was really hurt, darling. What you did was wrong, how come you think of me as a person that would taint your reputation when all I do is love you from a far?” that made me feel guilty more…

“But I would forgive you if…

“If what? Please tell me, Gguk, I will make it up to you, I promise!” I said, feeling determined to fix my mistake.

“If you make love with me. Prove me that you love me, that you need me, and that you’re not afraid to be tainted by me” and so, without much thought, I kissed him deeply, I opened my mouth, inviting him to intertwine his tongue in my hot cavern, as he lifted my shirt and carry me on his bed. I am now laying on my back, the tension from both us rising as I hurriedly removed my pants, leaving me in my underwear. The sight infront of me, him hovering above me as he continued kissing me while exploring every inch of my body had me whimpering in his bed. He started attacking my neck, making sure to leave as many hickies he could so that everyone knows I’m his.

His right hand started massaging my breast while the one started licking and sucking my nipple. The pleasure was just too good to be true, and after a seconds, my buds now sensitive and hardened as I continued moaning shamelessly. The pleasure that he’s giving me was just too god that I started unconciously buckling my hips to his hardened dick.  “Too impatients aren’t you?” he teased, and I just whimpered. He took off my panties, looking at my dripping core, already wet for him. “Please hurry,”  “Easy there, princess we have to to adjust your pretty little pussy first so it woudn’t hurt that much, okay?” he’s talking to me as if I’m some dumb kid, it was embarrasing but it makes me more turned on. Two fingers were pushed in my hole, I was shocked at the sudden intrusion but he soothed it by drawing circles on clit. “See? My fingers are even too much for you, how can you properly take my cock if you’re like that?” I wanted to disagree with him but I coudn’t utter a single word as he started fastly moving his digits inside me. “One more,  please” he only chuckled after hearing that, and I’ve never felt so pathetic in my entire life. He must’ve known that I’m  being dumbly determined just to impress him, but I later regret that when he fulfilled my wish. 

“As you wish, darling” the third finger definitely burned my inside like hell, he’s fingers are not just long but also thick. After some time, my moans got louder and louder as I trembled in his fingers, and before I knew it, I squirted a lot, but he didn’t stop from fingering me, until I was begging him to stop “Ggukie…. To-too much please” and with that he removed his fingers on me...

“You haven’t even got the real thing yet. Plus you promised me, you would make it up for me, right?  I was really hurt you know?”

“Sorry, I forgot” I embarrassedly admitted with a pout  and he only chuckled at me “I know, it’s okay, I’m always here to remind you”

“Have you tried riding a cock before?” his question caught me off guard, 

“What??? No I’ve never! Plus… you’re actually my first”

“Good, cause I will make sure that that person would die, if someone comes first on you before me. How about you become a good girl and right my dick, yeah? Prove me that you’re really sorry” I blushed at his statement but I didn’t bother to disagree with his request, I was at fault and I should make it up.

He’s leaning on the headboard right now, and Ii’m straddling his lap, while he lined up his cock in my entrance. I started moving down ever so slowly, but Jungkook was patient enough. But you know what they say, patience can also grew out easily, “What if it hurts?” I dumbly asked him, knowing that it would hurt more after seeing his size. He’s length is around 7 inch and it’s very thick, “It’s supposed to hurt, Darling” and with that, both of his hands pushed me down on his length, it hurt at first, but after a few seconds of adjusting, it felt like a bliss of heaven. I continued to bounce up and down on his length while moaning loudly as he played with my boobs, “Touch your clit, love” I did as what I was told and it was the best feeling I could ever imagine. Later on, I grew tired and cummed on his dick, but he didn’t stop there, instead he controlled my hip movement as he buckled is hips to reach his high and cum deep inside me. I was already pliant as black out after the session.

You may have not seen it, but Jungkook had the biggest grin of victory on his face, as he removed his now soften length inside your pussy. You’re already passed out, so Jungkook took the time to clean both of you as he covered your body with clean sheets. Little did you know, everything was recorded, from the moment the two of you step in his room. Jungkook would surely play the video sometime to jerk on you, and maybe use it for blackmail if you started acting up. But for now, you don’t have to know anything, what the two of you have, the thing that he made you believe, is already enough for him, cause he succesfully tainted you.

[f1smutwriter]

Hello I saw you write for pierre could you write one where they had a fight and fem reader is giving him the silent treatment

After going out with charles and alex, pierre finds out some hot tea he comes into the bedroom asks to pause their fight si he can share the tea which is something they always do together without fail.

Maybe gossiping is how they met like idk they sat at bar together and he overheard her gossip on her phone about her date. So he listened in lol

I saw a picture of Charles showing pierre something on his phone and it looked like juicy drama.

Feel free to make up the gossip or use actual f1 gossip I'm just getting into it so I don't know a lot of lore.

Thank you xo

|𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐞𝐚 (𝐩𝐠𝟏𝟎)

|𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary: they get into an agreement but the tea is too good not to tell.

Warnings: nothing, a bit of cussing that’s pretty much it

Notes: I loved writing this and I’m so sorry for not posting I’ve been trying to keep up with the writing from these and my books so I’m sorry. Girl I hope you enjoy!

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

“Really the silent treatment, it was one word it didn’t mean anything” Pierre tried to tell me but I didn’t give him any of it. He just shakes his head before saying the word that made this whole argument. “I called you dramatic because you said I didn’t love you because I forgot your chocolate, which is extremely dramatic” He told me making my jaw drop as he called me dramatic again. I just roll my eyes and flip him off going to the kitchen.

“Oh come on mon ange you’re really mad at me” he says following me to the kitchen. I don’t say anything to him I just go to the fridge and take out some pineapple to cut for myself. “Baby please I need you to not ignore me I hate when you ignore me” he told me making me roll my eyes from his begging voice.

“Fine I’ll just ignore you then” he grumbled going to his game room to join the simulator with his friends. A few hours later he comes in the room and hopes in the shower. He comes out in his towel and his gold chain around his neck making me just stare at him in awe but quickly look away when he looks at me.

“I’m going out with Charles and Alex for a bit I made you dinner already so don’t worry about starving to death” He shouted from the closet when he was changing. I just sigh hating being alone in the house but I continued to go on my phone (secretly watching edits of him). He comes out in baggy light washed jeans, a green hoodie and a jacket to layer it with his chain and his ring that I gifted him. I basically drool over him but I try to ignore him.

He blow dries his hair making it the perfect amount of fluffy, once’s he’s finished getting ready he comes to me and grabs my jaw softly kissing me making me kiss back like a first instinct.

We kiss for a couple of minutes before he lets go and kisses forehead softly before whispering. “I’ll see you in a bit mon ange. Je t’aime” he whispered to me before giving my neck a peck before leaving the room. I just sit in my room waiting for him to come home already missing him even though he just left.

Charles, Alex, and Pierre are all playing poker with some other friends they grew up with. “Dude did you hear the shit that was happening” Charles asked Pierre who was looking at his cards. “No what shit” He asked fixing his cards so he didn’t lose.

“So something happened with Max and Nando and I think their like arguing for a redbull seat, but redbull is obviously gonna stick with Max and Nando is pissed so he’s like talking a lot of shit about max” Charles said while putting his chips in the middle. “And want is max saying” Pierre asked now just listening to the story.

"He's pissed calling Nando immature, and how he's taking it out of proportion" Charles says while taking a swig of his drink. "That's fucking crazy man" Pierre chuckled while placing down his cars showing the boys he won another round. "Fucking hell man how do you always win" Alex says throwing his card on the table.

"You just suck at poker mate" Pierre laughed while taking all the chips. "Well mates I got to go lily wants me home for dinner and I don't want to be broke" Alex chuckled while packing up his things. "Yeah I got to go to Y/n me hope at a certain so l got to go" Pierre said before taking one more sip of his drink before grabbing his keys and going to the car.

Once he gets home he speed walks to the room seeing me on my phone watching some videos. "Baby" he says softly to me making me roll my eyes. "I know you're mad at me, but I have drama that needs to be told” Pierre said dramatically sitting on the edge of the bed. "So pause the fight because it is too good" Pierre says making me smile before wanting to hear.

“So apparently the girls are fighting, Max and Fernando are arguing about a redbull seat, and obvi redbull is gonna stick to their starboy so Nando got pissed and started talking nonsense about it. Saying how max doesn't deserve the seat and how it should be his, and max is like he's being ridiculous and immature" Pierre says spilling the tea to me without taking a single breath.

"No fucking way, I thought Nando was loving it at Aston Martin" I say confused on the whole topic. "Apparently not because he's not getting as much attention as Lance is because he's a ne-" I cut him off before he finished the sentence. "Be respectful" I warned him with the look that makes him be nice

"Sorry Mon ange, but yeah that's why the girls are fighting over a stupid seat" Pierre laughed which makes me laugh. "Please tell me you're not mad anymore" he asked me with his puppy dog eyes and pout. "No baby I'm not mad anymore" I say lovingly while running my fingers through his hair. "Since when did we start spilling tea to each other because now it's just normal" | asked while feeling his hair through my finger tips.

“The first day we met, heard you talking about that dick head that stood you up so I got the courage and talked to you” he says softly to me while his head is in my lap and he’s rubbing thigh. “You were listening” I laughed while scratching his scalp a bit just like he liked it. “When I heard ‘you’ll never guess what happened I was all ears” he laughed against me making me laugh with him.

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3 years ago

“Dude you’ll never guess what happened” was the one word that Pierre heard to make him start listening to my conversation without me knowing. The asshole stood me up said he was with another girl who’s ten times prettier” I said absolutely pissed while talking to my friend.

Pierre just takes a sip of his drink shocked that a guy can say that to someone as gorgeous as you. “I bet you his dick was tiny” I say making fun of the guy making Pierre almost snort out in laughter.

After the call ended I feel a tap on my shoulder. When I turned around to see who it was I see then most handsome guy I’ve seen. “Hi I’m sorry to bother you but I just wanted to say that you’re beautiful” Pierre said making me smile softly and feeling my cheeks get hot.

“That you so are you” I stuttered, “I-i mean handsome you’re very handsome” I stuttered pretty bad making him smile softly at me seeing his pearly white teeth. “I’m sorry I’m never really like this” I tell him trying to save myself from embarrassment. “No it’s okay I think it’s pretty cute” he told me making me blush ten times more almost looking like a tomato.

“May I have your name” he asked me softly his French accent making it so much better when he talks. “Hailey my names Hailey” I say softly still blushing for the life of me. “My names Pierre nice to meet your Hailey” He smiled softly now it being my favorite thing he does even though we just met.

“Can I take you out sometime” he asked me making me look happy. “Yeah heres my number” I say giving him mmhmm number on a napkin. “Are you free right now” he asked me feeling surprised that he asked. “Yeah I am actually why” I asked confused on the question.

“Can I take you out right now” he wondered making me blush more and more probably looking ruby red. “I would love to” i mumbled feeling embarrassed from the blush on my face. “Let’s go I have a place in mind” He says softly holding my hand to take me outside.

“Is this the part where you kidnap me” I joked softly while taking his hand. “I don’t know do you want to get kidnapped by me” he chuckled making me giggle with him. “Maybe but seriously where are we going” I asked softly letting him lead the way to this random place.

“Welcome to the pretty pond that I found” he says softly showing me the pond that was glowing from the moonlight. I see fireflies everywhere admire the beautiful view. “You have no idea how much I need this, thank you” I say hugging him making him wrap his arms around my waist hugging me back. “Of course Mon ange” he whispered softly and smoothly in my ear.

“What does that mean” I asked him about the sudden nick name. “You’ll find out soon” smiled softly brushing my messy hair behind my ear making me blush more.

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Present

“I remember that day, I love it so much” I said softly scratching his head as he kissed my thighs a bit. “Talking to you was the best decision of my life. I don’t regret one thing about it” he mumbled against my thigh making me giggle. “Even when I’m being dramatic about chocolate” I said making him chuckle softly. “Even then I will never regret talking to you baby I love you” he said softly to me before leaning up to his me.

“I love you too baby” I say kissing him back softly making him grab my neck like he always did. He squeezed my neck still kissing me with such love and care like I was fragile and he was scared to break me. “Gosh Mon ange you’re so precious, it’s truly captivating” he whispered before going back to kiss me making me whimper softly. “Let’s go eat some dinner” he says before giving my neck one last squeeze.

He goes to the pantry and sees a familiar bag in the corner. “Mon ange” he called out making me hum. “What did you say you wanted from the store” he asked softly making me look confused. “Chocolate why” I asked while placing the plates on the island. “There’s chocolates right here” he said back with a funny look making me look at him with a guilty face.

… “Oops”

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Notes: tell me why I’m trying my hardest to get these 5 post out. Yes you read right FIVE. Anyways if you requested something don’t worry it’s coming out soon. And yes more smut is coming out real soon. Let’s just say it’s another threesome. Hope you enjoy!