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#with your whining and whatnot
idkimnotreal · 2 years
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reasons to hate croatia nt: (yes i’m serious)
- they took out japan, a promising young team with interesting attack tactics, on penalties;
- they prevented a brazil vs. japan match, which wouldn’t really be a technical match, but would be interesting because both teams are offensive (and i was supporting japan after brazil);
- they eliminated brazil on penalties, the most talented team in this world cup, which deserved to at least see the semi-finals;
- they robbed us of argentina vs. brazil;
- they play ugly, they never win on normal time (well, they did against morocco, i guess they hate africans), football isn’t penalties, they didn’t deserve to go to the finals against france in 2018 and didn’t deserve to even reach the knockouts this year;
- they prevented morocco from getting 3rd place, the only possible redeeming thing about their loss against france, even though they’ve already been 2nd in 2018. i mean, good job on being the villain;
- weird flag, looks like tablecloth, fails to be iconic. coat of arms is also weird and lacks stars above it. (brazil has 5)
nothing personal. but to me croatia is a rival for the rest of my life. i couldn’t cheer with them today. i appreciate that they comforted our players (brazil) after we lost, but as a team, no, i don’t like croatia and i never will after this.
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andreawritesit · 2 months
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It frustrates me to no end that Jace won Rhaenyra important allies through diplomacy and is trying his utter best to be helpful and yet she time and again sets him aside. And then she cries "my own son doesn't believe in me bla bla" Like TF? He's literally trying his best! I hate show Rhaenyra this season sm
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floral-hex · 6 months
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RAT WARS preorder arrived. This is pretty much the only album I’ve been listening to since December. Every time I try to shift to another album or band, I just end up coming back to this beast.
#sorry this isn’t like a professional pic or anything 🤷🏻‍♂️#I know I personally like when people post in depth photos of their cool records but I just don’t got those skills or patience baby squirrel#I’m not exaggerating about only listening to this. I’m so bad about listening to music that I find one band I like and that’s it.#’I’m tired of this album’ I’ve been saying constantly for months and yet it’s 99% of what I listen to#it’s just… so good.#I WILL SAY… I miss their noisier roots. I miss the wild drums.#I wish it was heavier too. or chuggier. or something I don’t know. I love it but I want MORE of everything#also.. one last baby complaint. this took FOREVER to arrive#I completely understand tho. they sold a ton of copies and it takes awhile to finish production and shipping and whatnot.#but it waaaas a little disconcerting when everyone started getting preorders & copies from stores weeks before mine arrived#but that’s just whining. good things are worth the wait.#this is THE album that makes me want to make music. one of those albums where youre like ‘I bet this would be fun to emulate.’ Respectfully#I got the smoky gray one because it seemed to fit the monochrome theme but I’ll be honest. all those red copies made me envious#color coordination is a curse#I think this is also the first CD I’ve bought in years. needed it for redundancy. ya know. car rides. uploading to computer. etc.#anyway. none of this is important.#…this is a good album!#okay I love you goodbye forever#rat wars#mine
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seraphicsentences · 4 months
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HEY! i knwo your on a break but just incase your bored could you write reader sending spicy texts2 streamer!ellie while shes on like a boss level, and then after ‘raging’ at reader for making her lose, she comes back as if the chat isnt questioning the sounds coming from the other room (silly girl forgot to mute)
hi. tumblr j deleted all my edits to this. i’m rage quitting and j posting this version i banged out in the span of 15 minutes 😀 anyways.
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FUCK i’m sorry i know this took fucking forever and now i’m delivering mediocrity. loved this req either way this was smf to write. hope you enjoy sweet girl ;)
me when i disappear for a month and come back only to deliver pure dog shit. 🤪🤪
“-KID JUST GOT FUCKING DESTROYED, FUCKING BITCH.”
it was a late friday night, which meant ellie was streaming in her room, and you were supposed to be studying.
this week ellie was hosting a special in celebration of hitting 10k subscribers, and was grinding away to finally defeat Resident Evil’s final boss.
you could hear the chat dinging away with message after message, no doubt blasting ellie with compliments on her play, and the occasional comment thirsting over her hands or whatnot. it was nothing new— you’d seen the countless edits of her on your own social media page, and even had a folder of your own favorites saved away on a burner account.
“let me suck your fing- WHAT?! that is a crazy thing to say,” you could hear ellie’s shocked voice. “either way, chat, i’m married…”
“where’s my ring? UP YOUR ASS. c’mon, leave me be, guys,” ellie jokingly whined, bantering with her obsessive fanbase.
you held back a smile of your own, hand pressed to your mouth as she continued to scold the chat for their outrageously filthy messages. what a dork.
“alright alright, im muting the chat. love you guys but i gotta focus now! this is serious shit and i’m low on ammo now, hah-ha,” ellie spoke to the screen, words slightly muffled through the thin wall.
in the living room papers lay strewn across the floor, couch littered with eraser shavings and crumpled post-it notes, yourself splayed atop it all.
studying was a long-forgotten task you abandoned to instead sweep lazily through your camera roll, attempting to clear up some much needed storage.
you stopped abruptly at the thumbnail of an old video, in which depicted a downright sinful image of ellie’s bared neck for you as she arched back in pleasure.
you quite literally salivated at the veins that adorned her sweat-glistened skin, naked chest that was just covered by the play button in the center, goading you to click it.
quiet sounds of ellie’s desperate moans picked up, her head coming up look just above the camera and deliver the most pathetically fucked-out look.
“ple-ease can i cum, mommy?” she whined, voice breaking with every thrust of your fingers, wet squelching in the background a sign of her neediness.
“let me hear you, baby,” you heard yourself coo through the screen, the video becoming shaky as you picked up your pace— before suddenly ending on accident right as ellie let out a strangled whimper.
you met it with one of your own, frustrated with being left on an unfinished high, the throbbing at your core impossible to ignore.
your thighs shifted against one another, wetness pooling in your underwear as you replayed ellie’s final sound in your head over and over again.
your trance was broken by the sound of a frustrated groan coming from behind ellie’s door.
“fuck, i got it this time, i got it, swear,” she cursed as the game’s recognizable ‘revive’ audio cue played.
she could just do this again next week, right?
without a second longer of thinking, you quickly screen-shotted a clear frame from the video, shooting it ellie’s way and sending a quick text to follow.
~~
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ellie choked on her own spit as she clicked the blur away. cough- “fuck-“ wheeze- “shit-“ hack- “sorry, guys, j choked on my own saliva.”
what the fuck? what games were you trying to play?
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you groaned, hearing the firing of guns continue on alongside ellie’s commentary.
sliding your panties aside, you spread your legs to display the mess between them, snapping a quick picture.
you shot back another text.
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“just one more hit, one more one more one m- i- fuck,” you hear ellie stutter. “oh fuck, yep… and i’m dead, ‘kay, sorry guys just give me like 5 i’ll be back. gotta take care of something.”
you heard the slam of her headphones hitting the table and a screech of her chair sliding back against the hardwood floors.
the door swung open, the look in ellie’s eyes making your heart race with anticipation.
“hey els, good game?” you asked innocently from your position on the couch, legs crossed with your arm resting over the back.
“good game? yeah, great game actually,” she replies sarcastically, sauntering her way over to you. “you didn’t happen to need something, did you?” she asks, hopping onto the couch and quirking an eyebrow up.
“me? no…” you trail off as she leans in to brush a kiss across your lips.
“no?” she tucks your hair aside, before leaning in to whisper, “you mind spreading those pretty legs for me then, baby? i just want a look.”
“els,” you whine, attempting to catch her mouth in a kiss.
she avoids it, dipping down instead to rasp words against your racing pulse, “show me.”
you uncross your legs slowly, a damp patch darkening the very center of your shorts.
ellie grabs the leg closest to her, swiveling your body in one swift move to face her direction, placing that leg over the back of the couch as she runs her other hand up your opposing leg.
“fuck, els, i need you,” you say breathlessly, hips bucking into the air.
“let’s get these off,” she replies with a squeeze, tugging at your waistband. “wanna tell me what’s got you texting me like a slut in the middle of my stream? was it the video? my video?”
she dips her thumb into your leaking hole, swiping your arousal up in a messy circle over your aching clit.
“ah- shit! yes, fuck, y’sounded s-so pretty in it, els,” you moaned, nerves overly sensitive from the wait. “please,” you cried out, unsure of what exactly you were begging for, but you needed more.
“so fuckin’ needy,” ellie laughs under her breath, relishing in the loud groan that escapes your lips when she replaces her hand with her mouth, tongue flicking rhythmically against your swollen clit to draw out more of those pretty sounds.
“oh-oh, god, right there, so good- mmph,” you rock your hips up, hand scrambling to tug ellie’s mouth even closer to you, if possible.
mmhm she moans into your pussy, the vibrations making you jerk up as your legs clamp tightly around her head. ellie’s hands dash up immediately to shove them apart, pressing them wide open with an iron grip as she practically growls, “you asked for this. so fucking take it.”
two of her fingers slide easily into you with the next pull on your clit, and you’re arching up in a manner almost identical to ellie’s in the video, whining nonsensically.
“you’re dripping, baby,” ellie tuts, “just couldn’t wait for me, huh?”
she continues to pump her fingers deep into you, curling them on every outstroke to slide against the spot that makes you see stars.
“c’mon, cum all over my fingers,” she teases, whispering sweet praises between kitten licks to your sensitive clit.
with your head thrown back, you couldn’t help but moan her name like a fucking prayer as your walls started to tighten, legs trembling under her grasp as she worked you through your high.
“that’s it, soak my fucking fingers.”
~
iluvgirls_moms: THAT WAS 1000% A MOAN
elliesleftarm33: guys what the fuck is happening 😀 ellie babes, i think you forgot to mute.
ewilliamsismy_wife: did anyone else j hear ellie’s name. are the voices getting to me?
elliewsjizzfr6996: how to be ellie’s gf no glue no borax? 🥲🥲
1toesuckersslurper: NAH ITS BEEN WELL OVER 10 MIN IM OUTTA HERE
yeahhh… looks like ellie owes her subscribers a real big 10k special next week. and an apology.
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arieslost · 6 months
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little spoon | ln4
summary: lando is the little spoon for the first time.
word count: 835
masterlist — join my tag list here!
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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you’re half asleep when lando finally gets into bed.
you don’t mean to fall asleep, fully intending to stay awake, but the jet lag is really getting to you. you were hellbent on staying up in order to spend some extra time alone with your boyfriend after such a tumultuous day, especially because your flight to jeddah had been delayed.
you had only caught a glimpse of him before he had to get in the car, so you couldn’t do your pre-race ritual. instead, lando had sprinted to where you stood at the side of the track, hoping to at least give him an encouraging thumbs up, and kissed you so quickly that you barely even felt it before he was running back to his car.
so yeah, a little private time to decompress together sounded really nice. you’ve been trying everything you could, but you’re fighting a losing battle with your heavy eyelids.
the dip of the mattress has you blinking your eyes open, rubbing a hand over your face as lando slips under the covers. you give him a soft smile, and he returns it.
“hey, sleepy,” he whispers.
“hey,” you whisper back. “y’okay?”
“yeah. tired. still kinda pissed off.” he admits.
the race had gone so well, for a little while, at least. the rush of adrenaline you felt when your boyfriend led the race was like nothing you’d ever experienced before, and then he crossed the finish line in p8. you’re still learning the ins and outs of race strategy and whatnot, but you know that something had gotten lost when it came to lando’s strategy.
“sorry, baby,” you reach out and brush your fingers through his curls, still damp from the shower. “things will be better next race.”
“at least one of us is optimistic.” he grumbles, pressing himself further into your hand when you move it from his hair to caress his cheek.
“it will be,” you insist. “and i will be there, ready to say ‘i told you so.’”
he rolls his eyes playfully, and you push his face away in return. “you are so rude.”
“but you looove me,” he coos, grabbing your waist and pulling you into him.
“lucky you,” you make a face at him.
he laughs, sliding a hand to the back of your neck to pull you in for a long kiss.
you hum happily, appreciating how warm his body is and how good he smells. you want nothing more than to cuddle him close to you, pet his head, kiss his shoulder and his neck…
the lightbulb goes off in your head, and you break the kiss, causing lando to whine in dissatisfaction.
“baby…”
“you’re never the little spoon.” you say, like that explains why you’d want to stop kissing him.
“yeah,” he shrugs, pressing another kiss to your lips. “so?”
“so,” you begin, giggling when he goes in for yet another kiss, “maybe tonight you can be.”
“really?” he furrows his eyebrows. “you want to do that?”
“mhmm,” you affirm against his lips when he kisses you again before you can answer. “wanna hold you. you had a long day.”
“i did have a long day.” he agrees, sighing dramatically. “fine. one more kiss?”
“if you insist,” its your turn to playfully roll your eyes as he kisses you, smiling all the while and making an obnoxious mwah sound before he shifts onto his side away from you.
you scooch closer to him and a little further up the bed in order to get one of your arms between his neck and the pillow. the other goes under his own arm and rests against his bare chest.
“this okay?” you ask.
he nods, kissing your forearm.
“good,” you smile against his shoulder. “i love you, lan.”
“love you so much, my baby.” he murmurs, tangling your fingers together.
your heart beats a little faster at his use of my. for as long as you’ve been with him, you’ve never quite gotten used to that lovestruck feeling you get whenever he refers to you as his. you leave little kisses across his shoulder and his neck until his breathing evens out and your eyes fall shut.
when you wake in the morning, you’re sprawled out on your back with one lando norris still fast asleep and attached to your side like a koala. your left arm is still around his shoulders, but his face is snuggled into your neck, his arm is looped around your waist, and one of his legs is in between both of yours. you’re a little chilly courtesy of the blankets being stuck between your bodies, so you slowly move onto your side to face him so you can wrap your other arm around him and pull him closer.
he never says anything about it, to preserve his “macho-ness,” as he likes to put it, but every time he gets into bed and rolls onto his side after that night, you always know exactly what he’s asking for.
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note: i warned y’all this would happen and here i am. also i’m still exhausted from going to a concert and then staying up for quali so if there’s any mistakes that i missed pls tell me otherwise i will die of embarrassment 💪🏼💪🏼
my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!
reblogs are greatly appreciated <33
dividers by @/saradika
tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever
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jyoongim · 8 months
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Can you do like pastor gets jealous over y/n before a demon guy friend approached her and when they get to the hotel he fucks her hard but with a lovely aftercare?? Tysm🙏❤️
hehehe Alastor would definitely not like some other male around his darling. Friend or not.
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themes: jealous Alastor, rough sex, possessive, darling just being nice, aftercare, slight fluff
You and Alastor were out on an outing doing a little shopping and whatnot, when an old friend approached you. You smiled “Oh! Its been a age my friend how have you been?” The two of you chatted, completely unaware of the red demon approaching. 
Alastor had noticed that you were no longer by his side and turned his head to see a demon fellow talking to you. He felt his eye twitch when the male wrapped his arm around you and let out a laugh at whatever you had said.
it was when the demon grabbed your hand and kissed it, when Alastor made his presence known.
”Darling who is this?”
You turned to him smiling “Ah Alastor you remember f/n? i was just telling him about the hotel”
Alastor’s smile turned sharp “Aaaaah yeeesss pleasure to see you again”
the demon gulped and gave a nervous laugh.
Alastor wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against him, sneering at the sinner as the poor soul told you of his latest ventures.
”Dear we should head back. Now” Alastor said motioning gently for you to get a move on.
you nodded and bidded your friend a goodbye, hugging him and telling him you hoped to see him again soon.
As you walked way, you failed to notice Alastor turn his head around and morph slightly into his demon form scaring the poor demon to death.
Back at the hotel, Alastor swiftly led you to your shared bedroom.
Once inside, you were just chatting away happily about your friend while taking your shoes off; completely unaware of Alastor’s growing irritation.
”Oh how nice it was to see him! It has been so long. I do hope he come by so I can show him around, he seemed intrigued about our work here”
You were halfway undressed when sharp claws dug into your shoulder, turning you around to see a very fed up Alastor.
his eyes were glowing dials and his antlers had grew.
”Alastor?” You tilted your head in question, wondering what could have set off the lanky demon.
”no more talk of that riff raft dear. It is quite irritating”
you blinked surprised “Alastor don’t tell me youre jealous?”
he let out a laugh as he twirled a piece of your hair
”ooh no dear but…”  you were tossed on the bed and with a bounce he caught your ankle, snatching you to be under him.
he made quick work of you panties and inserted a finger inside of you.
You let out a soft moan and gagged when a claw pressed on your tongue.
Alastor’s smile widened “ it seems my little darling need a reminder that she is mine”
With a sound of his zipper, you let out a whine as he thrusted into you.
bottoming out immediately.
”A-Alastor!” He didn’t give you anytime to adjust as he set a hard pace.
you panted as he rutted into your heat.
Pushing your thighs to your chest, he leaned his weight onto you and grunted as he continued to punish your insides.
”tu es à moi, ma chérie. ce misérable ne pourra jamais vous faire ressentir cela ! est-ce que tu comprends? hmmm?
cette chatte n'est qu'à moi et ne l'oublie pas.”
~you are mine dearest. that wretch will never be able to make you feel this way! do you understand? hmmm?
this cunt is only mine and dont you forget it.~
You nodded moaning loudly as you felt your orgasm rip through you.
”I’m yours alastor, no one else can have me, only you OOH Fuck!”
his thrusts turned erratic and with a growl he emptied his cum into you.
you whined as he gave a few soft thrusts and finally pulled out, smile returning as he watched his cum leak out of you.
Trying to catch your breathe you watch Alastor compose himself and hum and he snapped his fingers and a tub appeared with bubbles.
He lifted you off and bed and placed you in the soothing water.
You sighed as he gently washed you off and smiled softly as he peppered kissed up your exposed shoulders in apology.
”Mmm Al I’m sleepy” you sighed sinking into the tub relaxing.
he finished cleaning you up and dried you off.
bring you back into bed he purred as you cuddled into him, wrapping your limbs around him.
Letting the soft music he played lull you to sleep, you felt him tighten his hold around you.
Alastor mumbled begrudgingly “I might have been a tad jealous”
you giggled in his chest
”knew it”
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satosugusandwich · 9 months
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His Angel and His Brat
Part 1!!! Part 2
Hard!Dom!Geto x Brat!Gojo x obedient!afab!reader
(I also try to write my fics to be racially ambiguous! No mention of skin tone or hair type!)
Summary: Gojo is a mega-brat to y/n and Suguru and likes to push buttons cuz he can so Suguru decides to overstimulate Gojo until he thinks he’s broken. (Key word: thinks.) To add to Gojo’s humiliation, he ensures that the reader is getting princess treatment while watching Gojo suffer endlessly. But, of course, things don’t always go as planned with Satoru Gojo.
CW and whatnots: Overstimulation, vibrators, cuffs, finger sucking, condescending!geto, usage of the word “cock”, gojo’s boundless stamina and cocky attitude, anal play, cum licking (off the floor and gojos pp) praise, cocksucking, angel ass reader that ends up in trouble cuz gojo can’t shut his mouth, geto is actually so mean to gojo but so soft cuz he’s actually a teddy bear dw. Use of “brat, princess, angel.” There will be aftercare in future parts cuz imagine leaving pathetic satoru a cum drenched mess. Poor baby. :(((
There will be additional tags in future parts. This is how I cope with ch 236.
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Suguru runs his thumb along your bottom lip, licking his own lips while you whimper. Your pretty eyes fixated on his blushing face and half-lidded eyes. He looks at you with so much lust and is so gentle with you, just so in love with how much you please him and how willing you are to do what he wants. You eagerly await him and his orders, always ready to obey.
But.
“Suguru!”
Satoru’s cry makes his face go from pure admiration to utterly sadistic. “Satoru.” He says, looking at the man to the right of you, the same man that’s panting and whining as the vibrator in his tight hole runs relentlessly. “Jealously doesn’t look very good on you.” He grins and hits a button on the small remote he holds in his hand that isn’t occupied with your mouth.
“Fuck—FUCK!” Satoru’s eyes clench shut, the whirring sound coming from his bottom getting faster and bit more high pitched. You’re grateful you aren’t in his position, you don’t know if you could handle Suguru having full control of how much pleasure you get to feel. Especially if that pleasure is ongoing… and nonstop.
Satoru looked unusually pathetic and… weak. It’s insane to think that the so called strongest sorcerer, the cocky, the arrogant, the man on top, bends to the will of his pretty best friend. Suguru’s change in character comes as a shock too. The sweet, soft-spoken, gentle, and empathetic sorcerer is now grinning down at his partner, showing no mercy, no kindness, and is only sending Satoru into deeper throes of overwhelming pleasure. You almost didn’t want to look at Satoru, what if Suguru surmised you wanted the same treatment. Would he show you mercy?
“Now, now,” Suguru muses, “if you can beg me properly, I’ll stop your torment. And of course you’ll need to apologize to Y/n and I for being such an impatient little shit.” He chuckles softly and withdraws his thumb from your mouth. “She’s being so well-behaved while you whine and whine and cry and cry about how much it is.” He mocks him, furrowing his eyebrows together in a false pity. “I suppose I should expect it, after all, you’ve cum how many times? That pressure against—“ Suguru crouches as he speaks “—your prostate—“ he runs the tip of his fingers up Satoru’s base “—it’s been nonstop for 30 minutes now.”
You can’t help but watch as Suguru’s hand starts to stroke Satoru now, giving expert attention to his neglected yet tortured cock. Suguru notices how you eyeball his actions and can’t help but smile wider.
“Ah, do you feel left out?” His false pity changes back to his gentle expression. “It’s alright, princess, why don’t you show Satoru how impressed you are with his stamina. Give him a little reward?”
Suguru is evil.
“I don’t think he could take it, Sugu.” You answer honestly.
He looks a bit disappointed but he relents his ministrations. “I suppose you’re right. But he still owes us an apology before his punishment ends.”
You nod and meet Satoru’s eyes. He can barely speak as his next orgasm approaches. “I-I’m so—“ his body is shaking. “I’m so sorry! I’ve been so—Suguru—so impatient! Please, I’m so so soo!!! So sorry!” He’s almost in tears now, you can tell Suguru is even beginning to feel pity for his best friend and his brat.
“Ahh… cum one more time and I’ll take it out. Show me you deserve mercy by pleading. Plead for mercy.” Suguru’s fingers tug at your nipples now, clearly losing interest in Satoru’s torment. You know that you aren’t being punished, but seeing Suguru like this… makes you a little weary.
“Please please!” Satoru repeats the word over and over. “I’m so sorry! Please, mercy!” He keeps prattling on, thrusting into the air as he struggles to keep together.
“Y/n.” Suguru looks to you. “Clean up his next mess for me. Lick his cock clean and then it’ll be your turn.”
Satoru starts to mumble and moan out different variations of thank yous and Suguru’s name as he reaches his final high. And when he cums, It’s a mess. Semen spills from his cock and your immediately there to catch it. Suguru’s eyes widen, absolutely loving your eagerness to take his cum down your throat.
“Good boy, good girl.” He pets your head and clicks the toy off, causing Satoru’s to collapse completely, his body weight bearing into the now standing legs of Suguru. He catches his breath, still whimpering as Suguru pets his head. Satoru looks you in the eyes, his beauty keeping your gaze fixated on his body. His six eyes are a little red, probably from the tears that he held back, and his body is flushed beautifully, his pretty cock slowly going soft as he does his best to calm down.
Satoru relaxes back on his knees while Suguru goes behind him to remove the toy from his ass and undo Satoru’s hand cuffs. You breathe a sigh of relief for him, always impressed by Satoru’s unwavering stamina and attitude. You wondered how Satoru enjoyed pissing Geto off so much, does he really enjoy these punishments that much? Suguru seemingly loves the after effects of a good punishment, his adoration of Satoru is evident in the way he kisses his head and gently rubs his back while Satoru regains his strength.
As much as you love watching, you are wondering why Suguru invited you to observe Satoru’s punishment. You’re not really complaining and it definitely isn’t the first time you’ve seen it, but, all you’ve had is a thumb in your mouth and a little bit of cocksucking. After all, Suguru can’t ever stay entirely focused on Satoru, he needs some pleasure himself.
Satoru seems to be wondering the same thing. “So, baby, why did you bring her in to watch?” He asks, rising from his knees to give them a break.
Suguru looks down at you. “Just on a whim.” He strokes your face before looking back toward his brat. “And I’ve noticed you get more worked up with an arousing audience.”
“Well, wouldn’t you if she was licking your cum from the floor?” Satoru grumbled, sitting on the bed.
Suguru turns his attention back toward you. “She does love cum in her mouth.” He strokes himself slowly, catching your attention.
“I want yours next.” You tell him, shifting your weight and sending him a smile.
Satoru watches as you lean forward to lick Suguru’s cock, taking his precum on your tongue. He doubt he could handle anymore cumming, but he certainly loves to see you take cock down your throat. If he had more energy, he’d love to stuff his down as well. “Like it that much, y/n?” He chuckles.
Suguru’s eyes shoot to Satoru. “Jealous again, Satoru?? Well, the question is are you jealous cuz my cock is down her throat or are you jealous cuz it’s not down your throat?”
Satoru sucks his teeth. “I want to watch her take me balls deep.”
Uh oh.
Suguru removes his cock from your mouth. “Satoru,” you start, “I don’t think you have enough energy to keep that attitude up.” Indeed, his stamina is incredible.
Suguru waits to see his reaction.
And of course, the other man grins and only adds fuel to the fire. “Think she’d look better with my cock in her mouth. She’s been paying more attention to me than you anyways.”
“Satoru…” you sigh and in seconds Suguru has him pressed back into the bed and is beckoning for you to get on with him.
Satoru laughs. “Aw, did I bruise your ego, baby? What are you gonna do about it?”
Suguru points to his mouth. “Sit on him to shut him up and I’ll give him a nice view of my cock in your mouth.”
Fuck, that sounds hot. Satoru just grins and motions for you to ride his face, pointing at his eager tongue that’s already out and waiting.
“Y/n, make sure he stays quiet I don’t want to hear him make a single peep. And since he likes being punished so much, I’ll punish you instead if he speaks.”
What?
You blink. Undeniably aroused but a bit scared of his now very evident sadism. “You know he’s going to try to speak now on purpose?” Mercy isn’t exactly his thing right now but you’ll pry at it for sure.
Suguru gives you an evil grin as you lower your weeping pussy onto Satoru’s face. “Then keep his mouth shut.”
2K notes · View notes
wonysugar · 4 months
Note
wintersera sent me
but thigh riding w aeri!?
(92’fjfk;&2’
see i said it in vc as a joke but you ACTUALLY CAME HERE??? hello anon and thank you @wintersera! i will take care of your anon :]
NOW,,, let’s talk essentials. THIGH RIDING WITH AERI?? oh i have many thoughts about this you see!! the second picture HER THIGHS NEED TO BE RIDED(??) ON IDC IDC
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MONSTROUS THIGHS I FEAR!!
see, i imagine her being that one really chill and unfiltered girl friend that you can just tell anythinggkenfj naturally, being as close as you two are, you two have conversations about basically anything, sex isn’t an exception! the next time you discuss kinks and whatnot, you’re telling her about how much you want to ride on thighs at least once in your life and she’s just staring at you, knowingly and is like “right.. right.”
now the thing is you’d bring it up so MUCH that at the 10th time she just interrupts you mid sentence and is all like “girl if you want to ride thighs this bad, just ride mine...” and at first you take it as a joke and laugh it off… that’s until you see her looking at you with a smug expression.
oh her ass wasn’t joking at all dawg—
and oh boy does she know that you like the idea, not like you blushing and hiding your face at the mere thought of you riding her thighs could go unnoticed, anyway. “cmonn, it’ll be funnn.” she tried persuading you, telling you how she was already wearing shorts etc. you quickly wave your hand around in response, saying that it would be crazy since you two are friends blah blah you know it goes. the worst part? you’re genuinely considering it on second thought?? it’s actually so bad for you rn YOU NEED TO LOCK IN! you don’t want to though, obviously. i mean cmon riding aeri’s thighs? girl yes AS CRAZY AS IT IS TO RIDE YOUR FRIEND’S THIGH OUT OF NOWHERE— GIRL YES
after lots, lots of convincing, sure enough, you caved in, both in her desires and your own.
the actual thigh riding? crazy. CRAZY I TELL YOU! you personally think it’s embarrassing that you’re already dripping and leaving a small puddle of your slick on her soft thigh,,, she thinks it’s cute though, she even teases you about it ahehehehhfjdn
would i be insane in thinking that she’d talk you through it?? like WALK WITH ME her hands are on your hips and she’s gently pushing you back and forth on her thigh, helping you find the rhythm of your grinding… interlocking her eyes with yours and watching how your breaths become heavy pants, maybe even slight whimpers:(((
she’ll whisper you things like “does it feel good, y/n?” just so she can watch you whine and nod in a keen manner in responsefksmcjd she surprisingly loves seeing you lose control on her :(( STRADDLING HER LAP IS TURNING HER ON MUCH MORE THAN SHE THOUGHT IT WOULD! plus you sounded and looked too good, gasping and moaning all up in her ear once you were close to climax, hence why…
she’d look at your lips and kiss you when you end up cumming on her because fuck everyone i don’t make the rules… and you wouldn’t even expect it either because uhm hello y’all are simply friends you didn’t know she got down like that! though you still kiss her back ofc,, her lips passionately dancing with yours whilst you’re getting yourself off on her OUH
thank you anon this was very liberating
555 notes · View notes
multiverse-menagerie · 4 months
Note
Perchance… could I request the bg3 companions with a Tav who has a bleeding heart? They’ll do what they need to do, kill who they need to, etc. but they still are easily tricked by just basic human kindness and often feel guilty for killing folk and whatnot. They’re ridiculously caring towards the party as well, often putting their needs above their own.
Karlach
Karlach gets it. She really does. But she’s been through (literal) Hell and has learned to be a bit more cautious
But she adores how much you love and trust people
I almost see her as someone who would go behind after you to set people straight if they conned you or anything like that
Something about it is so heartwarming ;) to Karlach, watching you take care of everyone - herself included. She wants you to look after her forever while she does the same for you
Shadowheart
almost disgusted by your altruism, in the beginning. She sees no point in it and points it out readily to you
Deep down though, even in the beginning, she likes it and almost envies you for it. She feels bad for speaking down to you especially after she’s had time by your side
Shadowheart enjoys being doted on and care for. She enjoys that you treat your friends like family and that you’re all carving out a little place for y’all
She’ll pout if you’re fussing over someone more than her, though she tries to deny it
Lae’zel
Similarly to Shadowheart, I think at first Lae’zel would find your actions unnecessary and dragging. She’s on a time crunch and knows where she needs to go, and helping all these people isn’t helping y’all
I’m not sure Lae’zel would ever truly warm up to being so willing to lend a helping hand. But I think she would appreciate and commend (and come to respect) you for being able to care so deeply for others (she’s not so certain she’s capable of that magnitude)
Forces you to take care of yourself and won’t hear shit about it; no she didn’t cook this meal just for you to ignore it bc Shadowheart needs to traumadump some more, eat you doofus
Gale
Gale finds it endearing, if a little worrisome. He’s happy to let you fawn over your camp mates but he’s draws the line at being so easily swayed by strangers
He tries to be diplomatic when he’s urging you away from suspicious individuals bc he really doesn’t want to hurt your feelings or make you feel like you need to change, he’s just trying to protect you to his best ability
Gale’s not particularly used to being doted on, but it’s almost…relieving, in a way. Refreshing?
He does work very hard to make sure you’re taken care of as well, cooking good meals and forcing coercing you to bed at a reasonable time
Wyll
heart eyes
Wyll himself sees (or wants to see) the world through rose colored glasses so he’s enamored that you do
He’s also probably one of the only ones to really understand your guilt over killing, even when necessary. He’s happy to talk you through your emotions over it and never hesitates to reassure you that you’re doing the right thing
flusters when your attention turns to him, but doubles it back in repayment to you
Astarion
Astarion seethes at first. He hates your tender-heartedness, hates how kind and soft you are, how loving you are with everyone, it’s just grinds against him
As he sorts through his trauma (and comes to appreciate your care, towards him and your friends at least) he stops whining about it…as much
He will absolutely shut someone down if they’re trying to use, manipulate, or fool you. Astarion only refrains from more…permanent silencing solutions because he knows you wouldn’t like it
He does, however, preen under your attention. True, no-strings-attached care? It takes him a long time to comfortable with it but he cherishes it
Halsin
While he certainly adores your tenderness, he tries to caution you over being too willing to blindly believe someone
Halsin is happy to comfort you through any remorse or guilt of course, but is quick to remind you that this is simply the way the world works
Watching you take care of your little band of misfits makes him melt. You care for them and then he cares for you when you come to him at the end of the day
Halsin would carry your burdens for you if he could, instead he’ll travel by your side and help you help others (while giving you looks that make you swoon let’s be real)
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bonny-kookoo · 10 months
Text
Jungkook
𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Christmas
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Feelings become warmer as the weather outside gets colder.
Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Jungkook's ex wife, fluff, flirty Jungkook, fluff!!, smut, Mutual masturbation, my heart is so full
Length: 4k words (oops)
There is no taglist for this fic.
-> Masterlist
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If you ask Jungkook what he’d like for Christmas, won’t the surprise be ruined?
Then again, what if he genuinely doesn’t want anything from you for such an intimate occasion? You’re not really the textbook definition of a couple after all, the dreaded ‘L’ word having never been spoken, so maybe that’s moving too quickly too soon.
Maybe just some sweets? But he seems rather conscious about his physique, maybe he won’t eat it because it doesn’t fit his diet or something. Wait, does he even diet? How come you never thought about that?
You whine loudly in your apartment, letting your head fall into your arms on the table as your laptop offers you no advice on what to do these days. Every question that’s similar to you always includes the mention of a sugar daddy situation or whatnot, or their partners are more than twenty years apart in age, and that’s just not your problem. Jungkook isn’t.. really your sugar daddy or anything. Sure he's been paying your rent, but he’s been doing that because he wants to- you’re offering him nothing in return, and neither does he ask for something.
What are you two, really?
Is he getting you something for Christmas? He seems awfully busy these days after having returned to work from his accident, despite doctor's advice to rest a few days longer. You’re not sure why he was so eager, but you guess that that’s just who he is.
You could ask Taehyung, but that guy could never keep a secret even if held at gunpoint. One stern look from his friend and he’d spill your plan, you’re sure of it- so who else could you ask?
You wonder if Evelyn ever got him anything for Christmas. You’d love to know just to have at least some sort of measurement to go for- but then again, maybe that’s not the best idea to get inspiration from his ex wife.
Something’s heard from your bathroom. You frown.
The moment you open it, water greets you- old washing machine having given up for real now this time, as it’s got just about half an hour left of the current program running, water seeping out from the side of the door. You quickly shut it off, ripping the plug out from the socket on the wall to at least not make an even worse mess, socks soaking up the soapy smelling water.
Great.
At least your mind’s been taken off of your earlier predicament by that.
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Jungkook sighs as he leans back in his office chair, reading over the schedules and meetings again and again. He needs to make sure everything’s alright before he announces his plans to the rest of the company, not wanting to cause trouble for the new year just because of his own selfish reasons.
His secretary brings in a few signed documents, smiling kindly. “everyone’s on board with the dates.” She offers, and Jungkook nods, taking the documents to check the signatures.
“Thank you. Could you file them for me?” he asks, and she nods as always, taking them back.
“and, your uhm.. Miss Evelyn is in the lobby again, asking for you.” She cringes out a smile, making Jungkook groan in dramatized pain as he throws his head back, flinching a bit from the sudden move.
“What the hell does she want?” He whines, making his secretary send him a shrug.
“she refused to tell, as always.” She sighs. “demanded to see you.”
“And I’m about to demand a restraining order..” he mumbles to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. “send her up. We both know she’s not going to leave on her own accord.” He waves off, and his secretary bows politely before she disappears out of his office.
The second Evelyn enters, he’s feeling odd again. Like he’s just even more agitated to see her than normal.
“Why did you change the pass code on our apartment?” she demands to know, and Jungkook frowns harshly at that.
“Because you no longer live there, nor have any right to enter.” He explains. “what were you doing there in the first place?”
“You said I could have my Christmas party there?” she huffs, crossing her arms.
“I said that last year, because I was not in the country anyways. “ He sighs.
“so?” she wonders, caught off guard.
“so?” He parrots. “this year I’m spending Christmas home. And I no longer need the apartment- its been up for sale since June.”
“But I need it? And you shouldn’t be alone on Christmas anyways, you could’ve attended the party.” She says, walking closer now. “I know we no longer-“
“Who said I’m spending it alone?” He asks, arms crossed to block her off, leaving back in his office chair. “Evelyn, I’ve moved on. You should do the same.”
“You can’t be serious with that kid.” She scoffs. “Jungkook do you know how ridiculous you look? They’re talking about you, you know?” she complains.
“who? Your friends?” He asks. “as if they didn’t talk about me before.”
“That’s different.” She shakes her head. “You’re in your late thirties, Jungkook. She’s what, twenty? Is she even legal?” she laughs, but Jungkook doesn’t bite the bait.
She’s got no business with you.
“I can assure you that our relationship is that of two consenting adults.” He makes sure to pronounce. “and what I do or who I’m doing what with, is none of your business, and it hasn’t been since we divorced. A choice that you happily agreed to, might I add.” He says, hitting a sore spot for her. “I ask you to leave me alone one last time, Evelyn.”
“or what.” She sneers, leaning on his table now.
“the next time you overstep a boundary, no matter which, I will be speaking to you through legal means.” He simply answers. “if I can’t get through you, maybe my lawyer can.” He shrugs off.
“Jungkook I know we ended on not so great terms, but this is stupid.” She begs. “I told you we could try again-“
“Evelyn I’m in a relationship with this woman because I want to, not because I’m in some strange crisis over the loss of you.” He hisses. “not everything is always about you, get it through your head.” He shakes his head, before he gets up to open the door of his office. “and now leave. Or I will have someone help you with that.”
It's quiet, even some of the staff outside looking anxiously as to what’s about to happen, when Evelyn walks into the doorframe.
“I hope you come to your senses soon.” She sighs, disappointed. “before you hurt another woman.” She says, before she leaves, heels loud on the floor as they disappear along with her, leaving him to close his office, and sit back down.
He's not hurting you. He’d never.
He knows he’s been very lenient with Evelyn even long after they divorced, but that was because he truly didn’t care anymore. It didn’t matter, but these days, it does. He doesn’t want her in his life anymore, because that spot she was taking up is now filled with you-
And you fit it so much better than her.
He takes his phone out to call you- a strange urgency inside of him to hear your voice right now as the call is sent out, waiting to be picked up by you. When you do, you sound out of breath. “Hey.” You say, and he chuckles.
“You sound busy.” He greets. “is it a bad time?” He asks, and you don’t answer for a second.
“A little? Not really.” You sigh. “honestly I could use the distraction.” You laugh.
“What’s wrong?” He wonders, signing out of his work laptop.
“my washing machine broke. There’s soap everywhere!” You whine. “my apartment smells like a laundry service.” You complain.
“Is it bad?” He asks, shutting the lid of his laptop. “I can come over in like, half an hour and help you clean up. Did you turn it off?” He worries, getting up to walk over and turn off the AC.
“Yeah I.. pulled the plug in a panic.” You answer. “and no, it’s not… that bad, just my bathroom flooded, it’s already draining.” You sigh. “don’t worry.”
“Hm, too late.” He teases. “I’ll come over as soon as I get out of here, okay?” He asks.
“Alright, but I’m not letting you do much anyways.” You say. “I’m still upset you went to work already.”
“I know.” He agrees, looking out the tall windows for a moment. “thank you for worrying about me.”
It’s quiet for a moment, and he’s wondering if you hung up- when you answer, softly.
“of course.” You say. “that’s what.. you know.. people like us do.” You say.
“people like us?” He wonders.
“Yeah. People who.. like each other.” You tell him.
“I think our feelings extend that of.. liking a little, don’t you think?” He chuckles.
“Maybe?” You ask. “I’m not sure. Like, I feel.. a lot more than just like I like you, but, you know..”
“I’ve not been very clear, haven’t I.” He sighs. “I’m sorry. I’m.. a bit out of practice you could say.” He apologizes.
“No, no its fine.” You wave him off. “just… we’ll figure it out, I’m sure.” You encourage- both of you, in a way.
“I’m sure of that too.” He agrees. “text me what you’d like to eat later. I’ll pick up some food on the way over to you.” He offers.
“Will you stay over?” You wonder.
“Do you want me to?” He asks.
“…yes.” You answer, for the first time actually requesting something from him. “I want you to stay.” You say, and he can feel his heart beat faster, louder.
“Then I’ll stay.” He answers.
Unaware that after you end the call, you’re squealing into your hands like a teenage girl, while he hides his face behind his own hand, a little overwhelmed by it all.
This truly feels like love.
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“The sealing around the door has become loose.” Jungkook mentions as he inspects the old machine for what might’ve caused the soapy disaster, sleeves of his white button up rolled up to his elbows as he finds the issue. “You can just buy a new one, but to be honest, I’d rather you have an entirely new machine.” He shakes his head, leaning back on his heels where he sits on the bathroom floor. “this thing is over ten years old.”
“But they’re expensive..” you huff. “and it’s still working though?” You wonder.
“Sure, but it’s not efficient. It’s too costly to run it.” He shrugs. “what you’re saving in not getting a new one, you basically throw out every time you use it.” He explains. “I’ll buy you a new one, it’s really no big deal.” Jungkook offers as he gets up, moving to dry his hands with a towel. “For now you can wash your stuff at my house. I don’t mind at all.”
You wonder. Does he really not mind?
You’ve only spent a little less than a week at his house, but it felt a little strange. Like he was a guest in his own home the entire time. He didn’t know where certain things were, other stuff like cooking utensils seemed way too new to be used.
“What’re you thinking about?” He wonders, walking up to you to move your hands, lifting them onto his shoulders in a request to have you hug him. His own palms find their resting place on your waist, swaying you a little to the slow beat of the TV playing a Christmas commercial.
“Nothing.” You deny, hands moving to play with the short hairs on his neck.
“liar.” He accuses. “What’s on your mind?”
“Christmas?” You burst out, before you shake your head, Jungkook looking at you a bit confused. “I- I mean, do you want to.. maybe spend, you know, a day of Christmas with me?” You ask, meekly so, averting eye contact. “we could I don’t know.. bake something or..” fuck, you think. Baking?! How childish is that-
“I’d love to.” He answers, an oddly shy grin on his face as he looks at you with eyes sparkling. “I’ve never done that before.” He admits.
“never?” You ask, and he shakes his head. “what do you.. how do you usually spend Christmas?” You ask, and he shrugs.
“I don’t.”
What?
“Evelyn held her Christmas parties, but I’m not a very social guy. So I usually worked during the holidays to escape the whole trouble.” He chuckles.
“Oh.” You simply say, unsure now. You didn’t really think about the possibility of him not wanting to celebrate Christmas at all.
“But, I’d like to have a.. quiet Christmas.” He says suddenly, stepping closer to you. “with you.”
“Oh?” You wonder, finding his gaze again.
“If you’ll have me, that is.” He shrugs. “I’m not upset if you say it’s.. too fast too soon.”
Your lips part-
Before you laugh, tearfully, hiding in his chest as you begin to cry a little. He’s not sure what’s wrong, all he can offer a hand in your back as he lets you calm down.
“I’m sorry- I don’t know why I’m crying.” You laugh, wiping your eyes. “its just- I was.. I was thinking the same. The whole week.” You confess, tired of keeping it all in. “I was stressing- I want to, I want to do so many things now because I feel like I finally have a person to do them with, but I’m worried I might be doing too much now and-“
“Hey.” He says, helping you breathe for a second as he holds your face, cheeks in his palms. “Thank you so much.” He answers.
“..what?” You wonder, sniffling.
“For telling me. For.. trusting me.” He simply answers, wiping your tears. “I thought christmas presents are meant to be given on the 24th?” He chuckles, and you laugh along.
“I was actually wondering what to get you.. if you even want anything..” you shrug, looking down now.
“it really doesn’t matter.” He confesses. “You can simply.. spend that day with me, and I’m happy.”
“But, can I give you a present?” you ask, and he nods.
“if you want to, of course.” He accepts. “I.. actually have a bit of a confession of my own.” He laughs a bit shy now, sitting down on the couch with you. “I’ve worked a bit overtime. To.. do something special, not just for us, but the company as well.” He shrugs. “and you’re the main reason for it.
“Huh?” You wonder, as he opens his phone, showing some of his emails coming in.
All of them are replies to a Company schedule he’s sent out- and all of the preview texts are a variation of gratitude towards it.
“I’ve given most of the company the option to take the holidays off.” He says. “it’s not much- just the last two weeks of December, but.. it felt right.”
“How am I the reason for that?” You wonder.
“You made me realize that there’s.. things more important than work sometimes.” He shrugs, locking his phone to put it on the small coffee table. “I have so many fathers and mothers in my company. Just because I didn’t have children, or a family or just a single person to spend those days with, I never thought about them potentially needing those days off.” He shakes his head. "and if I take those days off to be with.. my own family, why not give them the option as well?” He offers. “it’s only Fair.”
“Do you never visit your parents?” You ask, unsure.
“not really. I didn’t want them to.. ask questions.” He chuckles. “when are the grandkids coming, why is your wife never here, all that.” He laughs. “Eve.. never visited my family much.”
“That sounds like she never really cared much about the holidays.” You mumble.
“She did.” Jungkook denies. “she just didn’t care about me.”
For a moment, you’re quiet- before you jump over your shadow, boldly leaning over to peck his lips, making him almost chase after you a little.
“Well, I care about you.” You confess-
And at that, he truly can’t help but lean over to kiss you properly, eagerly, to make up for the lack of words he’s able to find.
Whatever this is, he no longer cares. He just wants to keep it close, never lose it, bind you to him and have you sheltered in his own home to never have to face any bad things the world seems to throw your way ever again.
“I care about you too.” He breathes against your lips, keeping you close, hands on your waist happily welcoming you onto his lap. It’s the first time he’s seemingly demanding now- taking the upper hand as he encourages the movements of your hips grinding on him with a bit of hesitance.
He'd love to take you, right now, right here- but he also doesn’t have any protection with him.
Maybe he should always have one on hand when meeting you. His hunger is starting to grow with each time he has you, after all. “we don’t.. “ you breathlessly try and argue, as he leans hisnhead into the crook of your neck, kissing the skin. “I have no-“
“Figured.” He chuckles. “Do you want to stop?” He asks, leaning back to look at you.
“I mean.. we have to..” you shrug, and he can see the slight disappointment in your face as you try and adjust yourself.
“Not really.” He shrugs. “There’s more to sex than.. just that, after all.” He suggests, and you look at him, before your eyes can’t help but travel a bit, unsure. Of course he’d be more experienced than you- he’s got a lot more time to have been fooling around after all, and you’re not at all upset at that-
You’re just a bit.. pressured now. What if he thinks you’re boring if he realizes that your past sexual experiences have been.. standard at best?
“don’t feel like you have to.” He makes sure to tell you, and you nod.
“I do want to.” You confess, and even thought you can’t look at him, he still thinks it’s a huge step for you to even reveal this. “I just.. it’s like the Christmas situation, you know?” You shrug. “I want to do so much but, I also worry I might be overwhelming, or that I screw things up and then you got excited for nothing-“
“Hey.” He chuckles, holding your face in his hands again, pecking your lips. “let’s agree that we will probably not get everything right all the time.” He tells you. “we’ll both screw up. I’ll do something that going to make you upset, you’ll do something that’ll make me upset. That’s called living together.” He laughs. “But I’m convinced that we’ll figure it out.”
“Why?” You ask, looking at him- surprised to see his eyes swimming with emotions, not used to seeing him so vulnerable.
“Because I want to believe.” He answers, voice barely anything above a whisper.
And it makes you realize that it’s not just you who got attached. He’s obviously just as invested in you as you are in him, and maybe, just maybe, you’ve never really thought about that. About his worries, what he might fear, what he struggles with. For you, he’s always been that person who has full control over everything.
But can you control who you fall in love with?
“Then..” you adjust your position a little, before you start to play with the buttons of his shirt. “I’ll believe in it, too.”
The kiss you’re offering is gentle, it’s a promise given, and also something more than that. You’re giving yourself to him with this, trusting him to both care for you- but also accepting his trust to handle him with just as much care. You feel sorry for not understanding his situation sooner, but you do now- and it makes a lot of things look a lot less scary.
Living together means making mistakes. And loving each other means working through those mistakes.
You’re moved by his hands to sit on his thigh instead, hips moving over the muscles beneath his pants, while your hands have undone his shirt by now, causing him to shiver a bit, both from the cool touch of your fingers, but also from the gentle manner in which you treat him.
He feels valued. Cherished.
Loved.
The moment your hand undoes his belt to gain access to what’s beneath, his kisses grow more heated, needy almost, his own hands guiding your hips over his leg. But he needs more, moves your legs again to straddle him once more, one of his hands easily slipping into your underwear to find you more than just a little affected.
There’s frustration in him. A need.
He really needs to start carrying a condom around for situations like this.
And it’s obvious this stress is shared by you, if the expression you have and the way you shamelessly run into his fingers are anything to go by. But it’ll have to do, he doesn’t want to risk things, and considering that he’ll spend Christmas with you anyways, it’s not like this is the last time he’ll ever see you.
And he can’t deny that your hands make him feel good enough already.
Mostly because it’s yours that touch him- the emotional connection you both have established at this point making him feel even more sensitive to every form of affection you offer. He feels comfortable and frankly safe enough to let himself fall into your arms freely- trusting you enough that you’ll catch him, just as much as he’d always catch you.
Your hands aren’t even on him- his underwear still between your fingers and his very obvious election, and yet he’s sure he could cum from this alone. You’re clearly chasing your own high as well by now, head leaned on his shoulder, soft whines beneath your heavy breaths causing him to twitch in your hands.
It's when two fingers slip inside you that you become restless, hands on him moving with more urgency as he plays your body like an instrument he’s been professionally trained in. Thumb flicking over your sensitive bud, slick making an almost obscene sound, but it oddly adds to the intimacy of it all.
This is your moment. No one can take this from you.
Your hands stutter a bit in their movements as you reach your peak, but you push though nonetheless to push him over the edge as well- a very particular movement as your fingers trace his outline making him spill, seed staining the fabric of his underwear a darker shade of its grey color.
It's quiet as you catch your breaths, his hand lazily wiping itself on your cotton shorts.
“You want to come to my place for tonight?” He whispers, slowly calming down again.
“Cause you need to change?” You tease, and he chuckles.
“That too.” He admits. “but mostly because I don’t want to sleep without you tonight.” He tells you, leaning over to kiss your cheek. “we could.. uhm. You know, the stores are still open.” He mumbles a bit more hesitant now, as you open your eyes to look at him. “if you.. want to help decorate the house with me.” He tells you almost incoherently.
Just for you to grin brightly, giggling happily into the crook of his neck.
“I’d love to.”
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1K notes · View notes
nanaarchy · 10 months
Text
cant stop thinking about fear gas being the equivalent of ghost nip.
The batfam is rushing through the streets trying to find anyone still inside that thick cloud. They hear screaming and crying from several directions, so they split up.
One of the bats, maybe Red Hood for the funzies, finds a small 14-ish year old who just looked so adoptable. He's sitting on a bench literally Right Next to Scarecrow and they're just... chatting.
Scarecrow looks very annoyed and the kid will just not shut up with Grayson-level terrible puns. And they're saying Very concerning things. Did Scarecrow get a sidekick, or what?
After a very well-deserved beatdown - one that the kid gave him pointerns on, telling him where to swing and judging his stance - the fight is over and batfam gets together again.
Everyone is very confused about the teenage boy just holding on to Hood like a toddler. He's laughing at nothing and very much out if it, which is, you know, not your typical response to fear gas. They ask for the kid's name and where his parents are, but "Danny" says he's alone. (Could be a dimension jump, could be reveal gone wrong, you pick!)
When they try to take him to some sort of police station or whatnot, he starts whining and laughing like, "Nooooo don't take me away from yall you guys are stinkeyyy I wanna help the sickie" and they're like ??????????
1K notes · View notes
pirateprincessblog · 1 year
Text
Strawberry Mocha
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𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: your favorite café has a new barista, and he seems oddly familiar, especially when you see his hands move when he prepares your favourite beverage 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jung wooyoung x reader, ft yunho 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 24.7k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: barista!wooyoung, student!reader, camboy!wooyoung, virgin!reader, hopelesslyinlove!yunho 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: masturbation, mutual masturbation, sexting, public oral, public fingering, blindfold, slight bondage, toys, edging
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, v-card loss, angst on yunho's side 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: pussy drunk wooyo idk man also i imagine wooyo as bouncy wooyo here with that hot ass hair purr but make it oreo like he had it in aotm
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫s 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.
nsfw link(s): one
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anastasya wants to chat! click here to see one new message.
"hello, gorgeous. want to see my pussy?" - tina, less than 10 km away.
luciano is more than ready to show you the 8th world wonder.
"close. close. close." your words are synchronized with the clicking of your mouse. with each minute passing, each click is getting more aggressive.
sick and tired of all the sex ads interrupting your studying over an illegally found textbook, you bury your head into your pillow. your back hurts from laying on your stomach for hours, but it is the only position that helps you with period cramps. the laptop makes a noise again, one you've heard enough of for the last few hours.
"i really don't want to fuck you, nick." you whine, clicking at the x in the corner of the new ad. when it opens three new tabs, all you can do is groan and close the laptop. you have an exam tomorrow, today is your first day of the period, which means tomorrow it's going to be worse, and to make things better, you are bombarded with photos of nude men and women, with attached locations, chat boxes and quotes. you feel sick.
yet again, you have just a little more of this lesson left, and if you could manage to spend so many hours fighting the virus bots, you can do it for ten more minutes. all out of motivation and will to live, you turn the laptop back on. the screen brightness almost blinds you, you forget how dark it has become and how bright your screen is. your eyes skim over the words, your brain so focused on focusing, that you forget to focus. you are frustrated, in pain, your hair is so greasy you could model it like clay, and your are nails half bitten off.
three minutes until your sleeping schedule starts, and five more long paragraphs to read. taking a deep breath, you click the arrow to scroll. as if the laptop is mocking you, it delivers you another message.
wooyoung (23), offers both mental and physical relief. check it out!
the ad flashes across the whole screen, the x not even visible on this one. you don't feel anything anymore. you've gone completely numb. accepted your fate. this will be your reminder to not study the last day ever again. you stare at the pink letters, then the picture on the side of it. it shows a young man, and oddly enough, not all oiled up and naked on it. it is a selfie, and in it he lays on the bed in the same position as you. how odd, to put a normal and clothed person on a sex ad.
"fuck it."
you drag the arrow over the highlighted letters, sighing. months, maybe even a whole year spent without a sexual contact. you didn't crave it. nothing in real life turned you on. maybe you didn't pay enough attention. maybe you've overgrown simple flirting and poor tries of having one night stands at parties. maybe all those young adult fantasy books on your shelves have raised your standards. looking back at the things that used to get you going makes you cringe. you've evolved from poorly acted out porn videos, to pages full of dark haired morally grey characters, blindfolds, leather gloves, candle wax, and whatnot.
you have yet to try out anything other than poor rubbings over the jeans you've received, not even orgasming. one night, three whole minutes of a drunk guy almost irritating your skin from harsh rubs, and a fake moan later, you start to wonder if you're the problem. proposing the idea of anything other than missionary and oral would make you the weird one, especially since you're a virgin. men here are shallow, and would rather jerk off to an amateur movie than try to match your standards and make the whole thing actually enjoyable.
the link you've clicked on doesn't open multiple tabs like the previous ones did. instead, it opens a single site, which first asks you to register and confirm your age. eager to see if the man in the picture was really the one offering such services, you log in with your google account, which unknowingly to you, used your picture and real name to set up the new account. your notes and pens are discarded on the floor, and your focus is on the man currently showing off his rings.
his hands are veiny, that is the first thing you notice. decorated with silver rings, nails neatly trimmed, with the pinky one painted black, and fingers oddly satisfying to look at. he brushes those same fingers through his hair, making it change colour for a split second. you notice that he is half blonde, which just makes you realize that sleep is not an option tonight. at least not yet.
"anyone want to open today's topic before i start?" he offers, scrolling through the comments.
you watch as people comment various topics and requests, the main one being for him to start touching himself already. for a sex cam, he does quite a lot of talking. maybe that's why you haven't left the site yet, but are staring at the way his teeth are biting his lip while his eyes focus on the bright screen.
"your friends are shaming you for having a threesome?" he reads out loud, then sighs. "they're probably virgins. or inexperienced girls who got fucked once then dumped. only they shame people for their sexual desires. they have no creativity at all. i can't imagine jerking off with just my hand anymore. feels bland. don't worry about them."
your fingers are quicker than your brain, and before you even register it, you hit send.
a soft laugh travels to your ears, and you just know it's because of your comment.
"you beg to differ?" he says, brushing his hair back again. he takes a moment to think. his rings shine under the dimmed lights, and you can't help but wonder how it would be to feel that cool sensation on your body.
you'd love to have him feel you up and down with this rings on, a cold contrast on your hot skin. you wouldn't budge if he were to put that hand against your neck, giving it light squeezes just enough to give you a thrill. you'd even let him do it in front of that camera of his, make all of these thirsty girls jealous because you're the one moaning his name. shit, you're really into him. or rather this whole situation. and he hasn't done a single sexual gesture.
"a virgin on my page. interesting." the young man hums, his eyebrows scrunched. "isn't life boring as a virgin? i mean, what do you do?"
i study, you're quick to reply again.
"i meant sexually, love." he laughs, somewhat fondly.
was it that obvious that you're a virgin? your cheeks feel hot, and you now wish to exit the page. but by doing that, you'll just prove him right. he'll make fun of you too, just like he did to those friends. you sigh. he doesn't know who you are, so it doesn't matter. you'll be honest, and maybe he'll give you a solution.
using hands isn't that boring
"ever tried a toy? or a person?"
tried a person. got disappointed.
"ah, what a shame. let me guess, gave you blisters from rubbing?"
oh just how did you know?
"poor thing," he coos, "if you had come to the right person, i would've given you just what you need."
the words come out raspy, and there's a sudden change on his face. you wonder if you said anything wrong. if he was thinking about banning you. but instead, a notification pops up in the corner of your screen.
wooyoung has sent you a message request!
oh.
oh.
"anyways, let's move on. am i in a hotel? ah, no. i recently moved houses, this will be my new filming room now. not as special as the previous one, but i need time to decorate it."
he keeps talking, eyes glancing at his phone every now and then, as if expecting you to answer right away. you are shaking, your head feels dizzy, and you find it hard to swallow. was he going to tell you privately to fuck off of his site? how embarrassing that would be. you wouldn't ever recover.
wooyoung has sent you a message request!
two of them now, yet you're still debating whether or not to exit and delete your browsing history. it won't hurt to look. you don't have to reply. you can just take a peek, leave him on read, and fuck out of there. it's not like he will see you on the street tomorrow. he could be on a whole different continent, and yet, he could be five houses away from you. either way, you're feeling vulnerable. those messages are either humiliation, or something entirely different. both of those make you feel uneasy.
then again, this is the only thing that sparked something inside you in these few months of feeling burnt out from reading all that erotica. the only difference is, this is happening. really happening. a whole man is in your chat, while he has an ongoing sex stream with more than five thousand people watching and commenting. and so when you say fuck it, you mean it.
wooyoung: ever tried an innocent soft little pillow?
wooyoung: guaranteed, feels better than a horny teenage boy.
your breathing is shallow, and you fear that you might collapse. his next message contains a phone number, and then, you watch him drop the phone on his bed. his focus is now on the camera, and the way his eyes stare into the lens, makes you feel as if they're searching for you. deciding to further test the waters, and see if he is just trying to have a little fun, or if he really has taken an ounce of interest in an inexperienced watcher, you send a text back.
he stops mid sentence, glancing at his phone. he fails to hide a smirk, and you're not sure whether it is the one of amusement or mocking.
am I, a boring old virgin, good enough for a pillow?
being a virgin doesn't mean you're all that innocent. quite the opposite, in your friend group, you are the one who leaves them all shocked when you speak of your desires. yet, who guarantees that this guy can accomplish what you want? they all want to "rock your world", show you how "good" it can be, until the make-out session is over and they come in their pants from simple dry humping. and you? who cares about if you came. your job is done the moment they come to their senses, and you are left to your growing disappointment in young men your age again.
wooyoung: does the boring old virgin know how to use one? perhaps some assistance is needed?
you swallow. you've never used anything other than your hand before. for someone with such a creative mind, you were quite a bore when it comes to pleasing yourself. you were used to your own touch, and you desperately needed someone else to fill the spot.
you glance at the screen. he is now holding something in his hand. it's clear, and long, and you're not sure if you've seen that before. your mind doesn't get enough time to form a thought, because he sticks two fingers in his mouth. he swirls the tongue around them, coating them until they're shimmering like the rings. sensually slow, he takes them out, making sure to give the camera a dreamy gaze. he turns the gadget towards the camera, and just when you figure out what it is, he brings his wet fingers to the hole in the toy. he circles the entrance, causing your tights to squeeze. you are so mesmerized by the way he slowly inserts his fingers into the toy, that you don't realize you are almost panting.
"need to prepare her for me."  he says, giving it a few slow pumps.
you can almost feel his fingers on your cunt, he is just that good at this. each pump of his fingers sends a wave of butterflies straight to your abdomen. it's so painful, to be horny on your period. otherwise you would've came twice by now.
"think I've prepared her enough?"
comments are flooded with positive feedback, and the young man smirks. he readjusts the camera, and sits with his back against the bed frame. he wears short sweatpants, perfectly showing off his not so humble size. he takes his sweet time to undo the knot on them, driving the watchers (including you) insane. he laughs at the comments, and decides it's enough teasing.
"for all the virgins here tonight," he says, then glances at his phone.
finally, he pulls his sweats down. his cock find its place in his hand, not allowing you to take a better look. wooyoung gives himself a few slow strokes, head falling against the headboard as he does so. he hums, licking his fingers and pressing them against his cock. you have stopped breathing. his gaze is fixed on the lens, eyelids half closed, and breathing shallow. your eyes watch his movements, carefully documenting and engraving them in your brain so you can replay them for the next few weeks. he takes the toy, sliding it on his cock. your mouth drops when you see the absolute relief on his face, followed by an eyeroll and a deep moan. you figure that the toy serves him as a fake pussy. why a fake one, when he can have anyone he likes? his watchers must get jealous. you would be too, if you saw someone so hot that gives you such attention fuck someone else.
a few strokes in, and he is already bucking his hips upwards and moaning. wet noises travel to your ears, paired with multiple curses and sighs. suddenly, he sits up, grabbing two pillows from behind his back. he places a pillow on the mattress, the toy, then another pillow on top of all that. you almost gasp when you see him spit on his fingers, rubbing his cock, then slowly insert it into the toy. he grabs the pillows, then plunges his hips into it. he groans, and stays inside for a moment. then, he starts off with slow thrusts.
you've read so much about rough sex, that you didn't even think about the sensual side of it. how good it must be to savour every caress, every lick and every stroke. to actually take your time, like he is taking it with a simple toy. to be at his mercy for hours, what you'd give. helpless, deprived of senses, only him and you. you feel your heartbeat slow down as he stares into the lens, hips moving with such pace that has your stomach almost exploding.
overwhelmed by the situation unfolding in front of you, you shut your laptop down. you see your face on the black screen; cheeks puffed, pupils dilated, and mouth dry. fuck, what was that? did you just watch live porn? and did you interact with the person doing it? you check the time, and with a loud groan, you place the laptop on the floor and roll over. you have so little time to get some quality sleep, yet you're wide awake. your studying is nowhere near done, and you just know that a prayer won't save you tomorrow. from the exam, nor from the cramps.
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surprisingly, you passed the exam. everything you've read last night managed to stick to your brain, despite the crazy situation that had interrupted you. you have already forgotten about it. when you woke up, it all seemed like a part of your dream. a very real dream. today, you didn't have time to think about it. your hair is a greasy mess, and an oversized hoodie hangs from your shoulders, covering your bloated stomach. you've dreamed about a cup of your favorite pink beverage all morning, and when the clock finally showed a sweet number four, you were the first one to run out of the building. your phone lays forgotten at the bottom of your backpack, mind too cluttered with the upcoming projects and cramps.
the coffee shop isn't as busy for a monday morning, and the timing is just right. you cannot stand anymore, so when you get next in line, you are relieved. you take a good look at the menu above the counter, happy that you've made it through such a tough morning.
"good day, how can i help you?"
your smile fades as quick as it arrives. you feel like all the blood in your body has pooled down in your feet, making it hard to move.
"oh, do you need to sit down? you look very..." the voice pauses, and you can feel an intense gaze on your face, before he continues "...pale."
you drop your gaze, slowly, feeling like the person is going to catch on if you do it in normal pace. right in front of you, stands the man who you watched fuck a pillow last night. he is very much real, not a fruit of your imagination combined with exhaust. he smiles sweetly, showing you towards a chair. you don't move. instead, you blink, and let your mouth run.
"i'll have the strawberry mocha please."
he scrunches his eyebrows, but begins to tap on his screen anyway.
"whipp-?"
"with whipped cream, thanks. just, uh, extra syrup. and pearl sprinkles."
he raises an eyebrow, looking at you suspiciously. you can't tell if it's because of your relation to his odd interaction last night, or simply because you are acting weird.
"that'll be-"
you interrupt again, pressing your credit card to the gadget near the cash register, eyes not leaving the wooden surface. with behaviour like this, he will soon figure out why you are acting this way. you must stop, before you embarrass yourself more.
"name?"
"anna," you blurt out, just in case.
"right," you think you hear him scoff, and if it weren't for your brain slowing down with each second, you would've asked what's so funny.
once he types in everything he needs, he points towards an empty section, gesturing you to take a seat. sitting on that chair has never been more uncomfortable for you. you feel like you sat on thorns, and no matter how you adjust, you are just making annoying creaking noises.
you glance at the man behind the counter. a lump forms in your throat as your eyes scan his hand movements. he is invested in the shaker, fingers skillfully moving it in the air. your concentration gets stolen by his face, loose strands falling on it eyes focused on the drink, and eyebrows scrunched. even if he was a aware of you staring, (you doubt he didn't notice), he doesn't spare you a glance. he pours the drink into the iced cup, spilling a little on his fingers and on the counter. you follow his hand, which takes a straw and drops it into the cup, and then moves towards his mouth. your breath stops in your throat, and your eyes almost drop on the floor.
he sticks the two wet fingers in his mouth, slowly, and looks up right at you. he catches you red handed, or better said, red cheeked. you're flustered by his hot, unprofessional, but hot move. and as if that wasn't enough, he has the audacity to maintain eyecontact as he brings you your beverage, a slight smirk dancing on his lips.
"your drink, anna."
"thank you, woo-" you freeze.
idiot. fucking idiot.
"ah, you managed to read my name tag."
he saves you, perhaps unknowingly. the amount of attention that his hands are gaining from you should be concerning, yet you still can't stop admiring those strangely attractive veins peeking from under his rolled up sleeve, going all the way to the fingers which are fixing the name tag.
"wooyoung, your shift ended ten minutes ago!" the voice behind the counter calls.
"oops." he snickers, then makes his way towards the counter, allowing you to take a look at his back too.
the thin white shirt is a little tight on his body, just enough to show off quite a few lines on his back. funnily enough, even though you've seen him naked, something about those clothes giving you a teaser is much more of a button pusher for you. the anticipation and buildup were always more interesting to you than the actual thing they lead to.
you laugh at yourself. as if any of that is going to happen to you any time soon. deciding you've spent enough time out of your comfy apartment today, you decide to put a lid on your coffee and leave the shop. at the door, someone tries to get out before you, but once they realize it's a bit tight for both, two hands gently find their way on your waist. a strong scent of jasmine washes over your senses, warm and firm body pressed against your back.
"oh, watch it, love."
and with that, you stand on the entrance, watching the familiar man run off to his car, the barista apron resting over his shoulder.
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wooyoung: disconnected mid show?
wooyoung: was it too overwhelming for your first time?
wooyoung: shame, i put my all into that orgasm, only to see you disconnected long ago
you are rolling in your bed, listening to the messages that are being read out loud by your very best friend. disbelief evident in his voice, he reads, over and over. you haven't yet replied, and having an actual encounter with him today didn't make it easier for you to do so.
"he's, like, a hundred percent real?"
"he very much is."
"are you sure? because ai is getting very scary these days-"
"yunho." you sit up, face inches away from him. "i stood this close to him."
the tips of his ears turn red, and you manage to catch a single glance he sends towards your lips. you ignore it, trying to convince yourself that if you do not notice, it will not happen. his behaviour will stop.
"he is very much real."
"o-okay," he stutters, turning his head sideways as to avoid being caught staring again, "so what now?"
"i don't know. what is there to do? he's just some porn guy, and i was just an accidental watcher. nothing is going to happen."
"and-"
your phone pings, as if knowing what yunho was about to ask.
"-the messages?"
"i'll just..." you stall, glancing at the phone and trying to see the notification, "...delete it all."
the man in front of you scoffs, believing in your words as much as you. he gets off your bed, picking up his jacket along the way.
"i'll see you in class tomorrow."
you only nod, feeling guilt pooling up at the bottom of your stomach. yet, as soon as you hear the door shut, you grab your phone. indeed, messages from wooyoung are taking up your phone screen.
wooyoung: out of curiosity, you didn't happen to try the pillow thing?
wooyoung: need to borrow mine?
you bite your lip, and your eyes fall on the pile of pillows yunho used to make himself comfortable.
i haven't tried it. and no, i have four of them.
wooyoung: shame. bet they'd love to be suffocated between your legs.
you choke on your spit, eyes skimming over the message multiple times.
that one of your fetishes? being suffocated with female tights?
wooyoung: you have no idea.
a few minutes pass,and you are thinking of various replies to send to him. do you keep talking to him? do you start flirting? is this considered flirting? if yes, are you doing a good job? a few more minutes pass before your phone dings again, wooyoung interrupting your thinking process.
wooyoung: well, i see that you're extremely disinterested in my tries of communication, so i shall just leave you be. hope my actions and i weren't overwhelming for you. if that's the case, my sincere apologies. you're always welcome to my lives though.
wooyoung: oh, and good luck studying!
"no, no," you whisper, seeing the online tag under his name disappear. your lack of communication with actual confident men and your awkwardness in general made him back off. it all felt too real to be true, but it was real. and you let it slip away. your only chance at gaining experience and living out your fantasies.
i'm not disinterested!
shit, you shouldn't have sent that exclamation mark. he will think you are desperate now. he doesn't reply, nor does the tag under his name reappear. you wait, minutes, half an hour, just rolling on the bed and switching between apps, trying to see if he at least went online. maybe he only read it from his notifications, and that wasn't enough to make him come back. you pick up the last few ounces of desperation you have left, and grab a pillow. you sit on it, crushing it between your legs, and pull your oversized hoodie just enough to cover your bottom and expose your thighs. you have discarded the pants the moment you entered the house, already used to walking around in yunho's old comfy boxers. you snap a picture, once, then twice, until you are satisfied with the angle and all the details that he may not even notice; like your chipped nail polish or the messy notes from yunho's studying.
instantly, wooyoung comes back online. he begins typing, then stops. he types again, and stops once more. you are biting your nails, regretting already. now that he knows how desperate you are, he will lose interest in you. you would too if you were him. you zoom into the picture, trying to figure out if anything is wrong with it.
wooyoung saved the picture in the chat!
oh.
wooyoung: fuck, that's
wooyoung: wow
wooyoung: those are the smoothest and softest thighs i've ever seen in my life
wooyoung: you know when you look at something and you know the texture of it? i bet i could just sink between them just like that pillow
wooyoung: could you ride that for me, angel?
the nickname sends arrows to your core, and you gulp. he knows his way with words, and you are so here for it. you can feel yourself dripping, and not from what you're supposed to drip from. your horny levels hit the sky on your period, and oh, how convenient that all of this is happening on the second day of it. he doesn't have to know, you could keep him hooked, until your period is done. but then what? what guarantees that he will not lose interest once he has a little fun with you with all the dirty talk?
your hands work against your brain, and soon enough, you are grinding on the soft material, one hand holding the phone and the other one covering your mouth so that no noises come out of it. if it feels good with so many layers on you, how good can it feel with your bare clit rubbing against it?
wooyoung: atta girl
wooyoung: feel good?
you only moan at the praise he delivers you, hips speeding up the pace.
yes, you manage to quickly type in.
wooyoung: can you type and work it? is it hard for my good girl to multitask?
you set the phone aside, focusing entirely on the object between your legs. you roll your hips, dedicated to chasing the sweet pleasure that has abandoned you for so long. at the memory of his skilled hips last night, the orgasm washes over you so quickly. his choice of words significantly sped up the process, and you aren't to complain. you take your time to calm your breathing, before taking the phone in your hands again. it was new, and different, but most importantly, fucking good.
the euphoria doesn't last long, the look of horror replacing the one of pure bliss on your face. right under wooyoung's message stood yours.
voice message sent.
it is you shamelessly whimpering and grunting, mere four seconds of it, yet enough to make wooyoung save it in the chat.
wooyoung: is it christmas already?
wooyoung: i keep getting present after present. what did i do to deserve it?
wooyoung: i better go fix the problem you've created.
wooyoung has sent a picture! tap to view.
the picture is dark, but there is just enough lighting for you to see his defined v-line and the bulge in his sweatpants. you bite the inside of your cheek, suppressing a smile. you made someone horny. not just anyone, but wooyoung, a porn creator. he has surely seen lots of things, how come a fully clothed picture and a four second audio could get him in the mood?
you have saved the picture in the chat!
in the next few days, you ask yunho to pick up the beverage from the coffee shop while you grab something to eat. he is happy that you started including breakfast in your day, and isn't yet aware that you are only avoiding the man he also knew about. perhaps wooyoung worked different shifts, and they didn't have an encounter yet? it's a bit cruel towards yunho, but you can't make yourself go in there. not until you've grown some dignity.
today, yunho isn't here. he has only answered to your message, saying that he has a flu, and that he will be resting for a day or two. which leaves you to getting the coffee on your own. you run from the rain, your umbrella broken and swimming away somewhere down the road. you would've picked it up and threw it away, really, if that lighting wasn't so close to you and you started running for your life. you are soaked, the hoodie stuck to your skin and the shorts uncomfortable and heavy. you hurriedly enter the coffee shop and exhale, the warmth of the place caressing your cold cheeks. you notice the place is empty, and the chairs are neatly tucked under the tables. the surfaces have been freshly wiped, and no menus or decorations were on them.
you approach the counter, ready to grab your beverage and leave before you make a bigger mess. nobody is there, the syrups and coffee cans are neatly placed on the shelves, not a drop of water visible on the counters. your eyes notice a little board, with pink letters on it.
due to sudden illness of two out of three workers, we are forced to work short hours this week. thank you for understanding!
underneath, you see that they work until four in the afternoon. you check the time, and upon noticing that it is just two minutes before four, you sigh. you turn around, ready to leave and rid the poor worker of trouble after they already prepared the place for closing.
"oh, i'm terribly sorry, i didn't notice you!"
the voice makes your blood run cold, and once again, you find yourself frozen in spot. only this time, you are all alone with him. no people surrounding you. just him, you, and the crazy weather outside.
"please, feel free to order. you have a minute and a half to place it!"
you turn around, eyes locking with brown ones. he is smiling sweetly, pointing towards the menu above his head.
"i don't want to bother you. you've cleaned the whole place and-" your eyes drop on the see through shirt hugging his body "-you've already taken your apron off."
"luckily, my boss is sick too so she can't give me crap about it. i can make your drink without it."
you make your way towards the counter again, eyes skimming over the menu, knowing damn well what you're going to order. you just have to buy yourself time so you can calm down. the scent of jasmine is taking over your senses, creeping into your mind and bringing back memories you wish so hard to forget so you can move on with your life. he is tugging you into the void, and you have nothing to get you out of there. you haven't heard from him since the day you rode the pillow for him, and you didn't have time to watch any of his lives.
"well, then. i'll have a strawberry mocha."
"ah, so it's your usual then."
"yes. extra syrup. and the pearl sprinkles, please."
"and whipped cream, yes", he types in the order, then looks behind. "you know, we have some strawberry cupcakes that didn't sell today due to the weather. would you like one? on the house!"
you hesitate, not wanting to waste his time. he could be home by now, doing something important. like filming himself. or texting you after you've left him on seen. or better said, saved.
"i really don't want to waste your time."
"you're not wasting my time, trust me. besides, i'd rather stay here a little more until my phone finishes charging. i don't want to get stuck in that weather outside with no battery."
he sees you hesitate and eye up the pink pastries, desire obvious in your eyes. he chuckles, then brings the whole tray on the counter.
"tell you what," he grabs the items needed for your beverage, not breaking eye contact with you, "i'll make us two strawberry mochas, and we'll eat those cupcakes so they don't get wasted until the weather calms down. sound good?"
you gulp. the look on your face is a complete opposite of him, as well as your body language. he is relaxed, beaming with confidence, and has a smile on his lips. meanwhile, you are stiff, your face is blank, maybe even scared at the fact that you're gonna be alone with the man who made you cum without touching you. but when thunder echoes through the place, you agree.
it doesn't take him long to make them and bring them to your booth in the corner of the shop. the smell of strawberries is the only thing keeping you sane at the moment. he sits across from you, shirt half unbuttoned, as if it's the warmest day of the spring outside. he doesn't have a care in the world. he silently enjoys the cupcake, occasionally glancing at you. you are slow with yours, careful not to stain your clothes with the pink icing.
"want to try?"
you look over at him. he brings his glass closer towards you, and aligns the straw with your lips.
"isn't it the same?"
"well, no." he laughs awkwardly. "try it, trust me."
you try taking the glass from him, but he is persistent in holding it for you. you wrap your lips around the straw, eyes locked with his dark ones.
"atta girl." he hums.
you swear you could orgasm right there on the spot. you pull at the liquid, cheeks hollowing and creating a perfect scene for him. he is dead serious, the smirks and chuckles long left behind the counter. the moment your tongue tastes alcohol, you push the drink away from you, creamy liquid dripping from your lips.
"fuck, is that whiskey?"
you wipe your top off with your sleeve, not yet realizing wooyoung's intense gaze on your lips.
"yes." he replies, as if it's the most normal thing in the world.
"god, why?" you finally lick the cream off your lips, ridding wooyoung of more fantasies forming in his head.
"it's good. why, don't like alcohol?"
you never really did. sure, you drank some tequilas, and a little gin of course, but not to the point to get drunk or actually go for a full round or two.
"i'm actually quite a virgin when it comes to alcohol."
the words are left hanging in the air, silence wrapping you both up. one might think that you knew exactly what you were doing with the choice of words, but you were plain dense. and wooyoung was here for it. he was whipped for all the innocent sides you were unknowingly showing him, but lord forbid he tells you anything. otherwise, you might stop talking at all.
"you can come over for classes if you want..." he brings the glass back in front of him, a smirk dancing on his lips, "...anna."
"yeah, i don't want any alcohol after my real classes, thank you."
the conversation stops, the only sound being quiet chewing and the rain pouring. wooyoung takes his time to think, and so do you.
"that yunho guy-"
"what do you do in your free time-"
you start at the same time. yunho? how does he know his name?
"you go first," you offer, unwrapping another cupcake.
"that yunho guy, he orders a single strawberry mocha with extra syrup and pearl sprinkles every day when you don't come. whipped cream too, of course. for you, assuming?"
you nod, poking those same sprinkles with your straw. yunho has been a little more absent in your life since this whole thing has started, and you feel bad to admit that you didn't really miss him. you weren't using him for coffee or homework, of course. you still like to occasionally chat with him, just not like before. especially since his feelings are coming more to the surface.
"yes, for me."
wooyoung hums, not asking further questions.
"so uh, wooyoung, right? you're new here?" you opt for a different question, seeing that he didn't remind you to finish the previous one.
"jung wooyoung, yes. i moved from los angeles recently, didn't find my luck there."
"ah, what do you do?"
"porn."
and just like that, the conversation stops. at least from your side. your head hangs low over your paper cup, fingers now playing with the cupcake wrap as you feel his gaze on you.
"are we going to act like you don't know what that is?"
"i know what it is," you stutter, fingers ripping the wrap apart and playing with bits from nervousness, "i just don't quite, you know, fit in that area."
"you sure fit in that night."
you choke on your spit, eyes shooting up to look at him. his elbow rests on the desk, supporting his head, while his other one plays with the empty cup. his finger grazes the corners, slowly circling it, as if trying to help you remember that night and the way the did it to the toy. your mouth goes dry, and you feel at his complete mercy.
"how-" you clear your throat, the roughness of it a dead giveaway that he caught you, "-how did you, uh, know?"
"you're telling me you saw nothing wrong with entering the coffee shop with that hoodie on, knowing full well i work here?"
you look down at the hoodie you're wearing. how fucking ironic, that it's the same hoodie you posed in for him. you really are that dense.
"i should get going."
"i can drive you home. you're not thinking of walking in this weather?"
him and you? in such a small space? for such a long time? what if you blurt out more stupid things, as if you haven't embarrassed yourself enough today? you wouldn't blame him if he left you on the side of the road.
the train of thoughts is interrupted by your name rolling off his lips so sweetly, dripping milk and honey. your actual name, not the fake one you gave him.
"yes?"
"i'm not camboy wooyoung now. i'm just wooyoung, your friendly barista. and when i say i can and want to drive you home, i mean it. no funny business. the last thing i want to do is make a loyal costumer uncomfortable."
it doesn't take long for him to clean up the table and grab his phone from the charging station. you patiently wait by the door, ears and cheeks warm from the unfamiliar situation you've found yourself in. you follow his commands, such as coming behind the counter and slipping through the staff door so that the cameras don't catch you. you squeeze into the pantry, waiting for him to lock the doors one by one.
"so, that yunho guy didn't take your virginity yet?" he blurts out, as if it is the most normal question he could ask.
"what?"
"well," he turns around, facing you, "he is your boyfriend after all, isn't he?"
"that's not quite- oh-" you are pressed into the corner, with wooyoung blocking the way out. he puts his hands on the wall, trapping you between his arms and forcing you to look at him.
"does your boyfriend know that you watch filth and film yourself for another man?"
"he isn't-"
"does he know that his innocent little girlfriend is alone with that same man inside an empty coffee shop, away from everyone?"
you fail to answer, instead opting for silence. your eyes fall on his exposed chest, fingers yearning to touch. you feel a hand under your chin, gently lifting your head up so that you can look at him again. you see pure desire in his eyes, and now you know exactly what the authors mean when they say that his eyes darkened with lust. you are witnessing it first hand, and now that you are finally here, you are not acting the way you did in your mind.
he brings his face close to yours, his loose hair strands tickling your cheeks. his breathing is shallow, much like yours, and when he slowly presses his lips against yours, you breathing stops completely. he holds your chin in his hand, thumb gently rubbing your cheek, while his other hand finds its place on your hip. he pulls your body into his, and ever so gently bites down on your bottom lip.
your first normal kiss ever. with the man you watched masturbate on a crucial studying night. he pulls away, just enough to move your hair out of the way.
"am i making you uncomfortable?" he asks, concern taking over his features.
"no," you whisper, not trusting your voice.
"you sure?"
"please keep kissing me." you look up at him, and wooyoung swears that he has never seen such big pleading eyes in his entire life. just how can he deny you such a thing, when you asked him so sweetly and innocently?
wooyoung loses control, and lets his heart take over. his hands grab your waist, picking you up and seating you on a nearby surface, knocking some cups and cutlery over in the process. his lips are pressed against yours again, moving slowly until you get used to it. your hands hesitantly wrap around his neck, fingers playing with the hair on it. wooyoung exhales into your lips, absolutely whipped for your little gestures.
you are soaking wet. you hope he doesn't feel it, considering he has your legs wrapped around his waist and your cunt pressed against his firm torso. with each kiss he so generously delivers you, a new batch of butterflies gets released in your stomach, making you feel all giggly and excited. he smells absolutely heavenly, and the way his tongue is grazing your lips is driving you mad. his fingers press into your thigh, feeling the flesh and lightly squeezing it. so he really does have a thigh fetish.
you whine when he pulls away from you, only to attach his lips to your neck. he drags his tongue down the side of your neck, to your collarbone. his hands sneak under your hoodie, lingering on your bare skin for a moment. you realize he is waiting for a sign to keep going, so you help him raise your hoodie right under your chest.
"should i stop?"
you didn't quite picture him as a man who would ask for consent multiple times. but then again, he is a man. not a boy. and just like he said: right now, he isn't camboy wooyoung. he is your friendly barista wooyoung. a particularly touchy friendly barista wooyoung. not that you're complaining.
"angel?"
absolutely lost in the way he is looking at you, you fail to answer. you feel so small in his arms, and so inexperienced when it comes to simple kissing. god, what if he wants something more right away?
"i need to know you're comfortable. i won't do anything if-"
you stop him by taking his hand and placing it on your breast. he gulps, gently squeezing the soft flesh. why does he seem so nervous? doesn't he fuck multiple people in a span of a month?
he rubs your tense buds, sending little shockwaves to your core. as soon as you lift the hoodie to your collarbones, wooyoung is quick to take your bud into his mouth. he teases with the tip of his tongue, making you twitch and yelp in his grip. you aren't used to this type of pleasure. it's new, and intensive. you love it.
his other hand keeps up the pace his tongue has set, rubbing slow circles on the sensitive buds. you struggle with breathing, and your hands are reaching out to grab anything; the counter, his shoulders, his hair, the counter again, and so on. your head falls back, and the feeling of pure bliss pools in your stomach. you feel like you could orgasm any moment, yet it never happens. wooyoung switches between each bud, treating them both equally. a particularly breathy moan leaves your mouth, making wooyoung hum. he is pleased with the way you're responding to him, so jumpy and whiny while he feasts on your body.
when he pulls away, you see a string of saliva connecting his lips with your breast. you moan at the sight, feeling adrenaline running through your veins and waiting to explode somewhere in your body. wooyoung drops down on his knees, fingers hooked in the elastic band of your shorts.
"if i don't get crushed between your thighs right now, i don't think i'll live to see another day."
even from that position, he is emitting insane dominant energy, and you are just a marionette in his hands.
"please."
you raise your hips just enough to help him pull the shorts down, along with the panties. you are thankful that they are the new ones you had discovered this morning since buying them a month ago. though, they were ruined with your arousal anyway and wooyoung probably couldn't care less. but instead of tossing them aside, he raises them in front of his eyes, admiring them.
"that's so fucking adorable."
they are plain pastel panties, with a small row of lace on the top of it. you figure he is used to strings and thongs, and how new a normal set of panties must seem to him. wooyoung folds the panties, and stuffs them in his pocket. too taken aback by his action, you do not have time to react when he places your legs over his shoulders.
"you don't have to cum. i just want to show you how good it can be."
you mean you want to leave me yearning for your touch as if i am not desperate enough?
"is that alright? can i lick you until you pass out?"
he knows exactly which words drive you insane. as if he was living in your head since you discovered the first young adult fantasy book. you nod, then breathe in. the sudden lighting outside makes you aware of where you are. you are about to have your cunt devoured by none other than the new barista everyone around you is crushing on, in one of the staff rooms. soft café music is heard in the distance now that the rain has calmed down, and it is only adding up to the rather odd, but once in a lifetime situation you are in.
a flat, wet muscle presses against your folds, softly licking up your arousal and stopping at your clit. you try to close your legs at the new feeling of pleasure, but wooyoung is quick to grab your thighs and keep them apart just enough so he can get you used to the feeling. your legs shake as the tip of his tongue massages the tip of your clit, pure pleasure taking over your body and completely shutting your brain off. you are a whining mess, shaking in his arms, pulling at his hair, and whatnot. his eyes never leave your face, memorizing every eyebrow scrunch, every eyeroll, every moan and every hand movement. he is entirely mesmerized by your existence. he has never seen anyone let their guard down like this and put themselves at his complete mercy.
he switches between techniques, not yet allowing you to work up your orgasm. he figures you like circles with the tip of his tongue best, they have you being more vocal and squirmy in his hold. wooyoung then snakes his hands under your bottom, gently lifting your lower body so that your head and shoulders lay comfortably on the wooden surface. your hips are in the air, and your legs hang off his shoulders. you are confused by the position he has you in, until he dives into your cunt once more. you moan, fingers reaching to pull at his soft hair. this time he doesn't separate your thighs, but instead presses his face further into your arousal and squishes your flesh against his cheeks, licking every drop you have to offer him.
"wooyoung-" you whine, hips subconsciously grinding against his face.
"good, good girl." he hums, lips closing around your bud and sucking on it.
you clench, body tensing up upon feeling the orgasm approaching.
"fuck- fuck-" you whine, hands gripping the shelves above your head.
wooyoung slows his movements to the max, carefully sliding his tongue up and down your clit, driving you insane with the orgasm delay. you want to cum so bad, but everything feels too much, you are sweating so bad, and the position you are in is making you more vulnerable and sensitive.
"please, please, please, pretty please" you beg, voice already betraying you and cracking at the end.
wooyoung groans against your cunt, then moves away. you gasp with surprise. all the pleasure leaves your body, and you are now laying on the surface again. you support yourself on your elbows, enough to look at him and ask just why he stopped.
"prettiest cunt i've ever seen in my life." he caresses your skin above it.
"why-" you breathe out, "- why did you stop? i was so, so close-"
"i had to, angel. i don't want you cumming in a pantry on an uncomfortable surface."
you watch him lick his lips, disbelief evident on your face. he chuckles, picking your shorts up from the floor.
"panties?"
"i'll get you new ones."
were the panties really that interesting to him? wooyoung reaches for something above your head, pressing his lips on your forehead before grabbing paper towels. you are sensitive to his touch, feeling overstimulated and irritated even though you didn't orgasm. he patiently wipes you, then pulls your shorts up, not forgetting to caress your thighs along the way.
"come here." he instructs.
you sit up, feet swinging from the counter. the man in front of you pulls you in for a kiss, this time a short one.
"you did very good. i hope you get your real orgasm somewhere comfy."
he hopes? was this a farewell? he had his little fun with you, and now he is no longer interested?
"come on, the weather is calmer now. i'll still drive you home though."
and just like that, he proceeds outside, leaving you with thoughts for a few moments. you feel a little humiliated, and very vulnerable and exposed. still, you follow him outside, and get into his car. it is a neat car, that you notice. it smells like an ocean breeze, and he has a camera above his steering wheel.
"not for porn," he interrupts your thoughs.
you have forgotten about that side of him. in the moment, it seemed like he was just a normal guy who hooked up with you because he thinks you are cute. in reality, he is probably bored of all those skilled partners and wants something new, so he used you as a little project. you feel hurt, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes as you look out the window. you haven't spared him a single glance, scared that he might be pitiful towards you. that's the last thing you need.
"right, then left?" he asks, steering the wheel with one hand.
"yeah."
it doesn't take long before the car stops in front of a familiar building. you don't see yunho's car, and just then remember that he is sick and resting at home. wooyoung has clouded your mind so much that you don't have any other thoughts, only ones about him.
"thank you for sharing the cupcakes with me." he winks, then unlocks the door.
you aren't ready to say goodbye just yet. if you leave the car, will everything be back the way it was? him acting like he doesn't know you, and vice versa? are you supposed to go in there and order your strawberry mocha from him like it doesn't associate you with today's event?
"wooyoung?"
"yes, angel?"
you play with your fingers in your lap, deciding which words would be the best to make him stay in your life just a little longer.
"can you teach me?"
"teach you?"
"yes. you are so experienced, and i am just a dumb virgin with a big imagination."
he stops to think. he bites the inside of his cheek, and you mimic him.
"i'd destroy you."
you clench around nothing, hearing his raspy voice say such words to you. you know he means them, you saw him mean them. but you are up for it. anything, just to get another taste of him.
"i don't mind."
he sighs, smile still dancing on his lips. "just what are you?"
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since the day you had your first orgasm denial, you have heard from him only once, and only because you sent the message first.
i'm not seeing those panties again, right?
wooyoung: nope.
okay
okay? okay??? you could at least put some effort into flirting. you are only pushing him away, instead of inching towards another meeting, this one preferably ending with an orgasm. the notifications about his lives were now regulars on your phone screen, and though you never quite watched them, you like to think he does it for you. slight jealousy has appeared, and you have to stop it before it spreads. but after all, you are the one that has gained his attention.
you decide to visit yunho. he has been sick for quite some time, and has been rarely answering your messages. you have prepared him his favourite soup, and bought his favorite chocolate bar.
"yunnie, you're alive!"
you jump into his arms, forgetting that he might still be weak from being sick. but he catches you effortlessly, a fond smile on his lips as he keeps your body close to him.
"feeling better?"
"almost." he replies, gently setting you down on the floor. "how have you been?"
"bored, honestly. i miss gossiping with you and getting yelled at by other students. oh, turns out mark did cheat on jenna!"
"knew it."
yunho makes his way to the kitchen to grab you a drink and put away the food you brought him, and you can't help but notice how buff he has gotten since the last time you saw him. he was probably well built before too, but you've never seen that man in anything other than oversized t-shirts and hoodies. right now, he is wearing one of those compressive exercise sleeveless tops, every bump and curve visible on his toned body. you notice how big his arms are, and just how tall he is.
you feel familiar warmth between your legs, and you have to sit down to stop any funny business. he is speaking, but all you can do is stare at the way his hands are handling the drinks. his hands are much bigger in comparison to wooyoung, and his physique overall is making you melt right there on his couch.
"so? sound good?"
you look up, pupils dilated and cheeks warm and red. he is confused by your sudden change in expression, before he realizes that you weren't even listening. he sighs, giving up on the weekend trip proposal.
"what is it with you?" the man hands you a glass of apple juice, along with a granola bar he knows you love to steal from his cupboard.
"nothing, why?" you reply too quickly.
he laughs, mixed confusion and amusement. he sits next to you, leaving a little space in between. the way he drops his head back on the backrest and manspreads isn't helping your situation. wooyoung has opened a door that cannot be closed anymore.
fuck, wooyoung.
"you know, i thought i was gonna die. my headache was so bad i heard thumping inside it."
"does it hurt now?"
"not really, no. but i do think i still have a little fever. can you check?"
you lean over on your knees, fingers gently moving his hair out of the way. upon reaching over for the thermometer from the coffee table, you slip between the couch cushions, making yunho jolt and grab your waist. you have to close your eyes for a moment, sensory overload getting the worst of you. your clothes suddenly feel so tight and itchy, his breathing is loud and right there in your ears, and his hands are burning on your skin over the fabric of your top.
"watch it, little one," he says.
you know he means the nickname as a sign of fondness towards you, but in the situation where you're acting like an animal in heat, it is doing wonders to you. knowing that he is big, much bigger than you, and calling you that is making your stomach boil.
you want to make a move. no matter how wrong it would be. you want to lean in and kiss him, make him feel you up and down, make him touch you right here on the couch, where you cuddled and watched movies since knowing each other.
"why are you looking at me like that?" his voice is suddenly raspy.
"like what?" you whisper, afraid of your infamous cracking tone.
"like you want to fuck me."
not far from truth. not exactly fuck, rather just have a little fun to get some heat out of you. his hands never leave your waist, instead pulling your body into his lap. you've been in this position many times, mainly being tickled and begging for mercy. now? you're ready to beg for his tongue on you.
"i-"
a familiar ringtone interrupts you, and you feel him tense up underneath.
"pick it up." he says, lazily looking at you through half closed eyelids.
"uh, yes," you stutter, reaching towards the table to grab your phone.
you almost faint seeing the name on your screen. you don't want to pick up. not now. any other time, yes. but right now? not quite convenient.
"go on, answer it." yunho encourages, not knowing the consequences of his action.
but you do it anyway. what is there to lose? lose yunho, gain wooyoung. and vice versa. how fucking evil of you. acting like a bitch in heat, listening to your pussy instead of your morals.
"yes?" you answer, breath hitching when yunho starts caressing your sides.
"hi, angel."
yunho's touching stops. he is now focused on the male voice coming from your phone, the name of the contact not visible from your hair.
"let me see you tonight? i'll take you out for a ride and a dinner."
"tonight?"
"yes. unless you have plans? i just got my motorcycle back from the auto mechanic, thought i'd show you there's thrilling stuff other than an orgasm denial in a public space."
yunho removes his hands completely from you, but lets you sit on his lap. you witness his face morph from flirty to mixed anger and disappointment, though he is trying very hard to hide it. the red tips of his ears are a dead giveaway, and you wish you could feel guilty.
"i have no plans. the ride sounds nice."
"good girl. i'll pick you up same place i dropped you off the other day, six o'clock?"
"sound good."
"good. i'll see you in around two hours then?"
"yes."
"chatty as usual, i see. i'll get you to talk tonight, no worries."
and with that, he hangs up. it is only then that yunho sits you on the couch next to him, while he stands up. you are numb to his reaction, excitement boiling in your veins in anticipation for tonight.
"do you enjoy hurting me?"
he shoots the first arrow through your heart.
"do you love seeing me suffer? do you enjoy bringing me to tears almost every time we meet?"
you have just uncovered something that has been cooking for a long time, and you know you are at fault. you just fail to feel wrong for it.
"it was fine at the beginning, you showed no signs of interest whatsoever. but now? the last month or two? you are driving me fucking insane."
when yunho starts swearing, you now it is bad.
"and to think that i'd actually have a chance. that you'd open yourself up for me so i can prove to you how well i can treat you. i deserve a global idiot award."
you don't speak. you let him rant, knowing that he would only get worked up more if you spoke. none of the things you had to say were comforting, so being silent was the better option.
"get the fuck out of my house."
it is the first time you see him so angry and aggressive. with full right. so you silently take your belongings, turning your back on him without a proper goodbye.
"and take this with you. i don't need anything from you." he shoves the box you had brought him into your hands.
he looks at you, teary eyed, fighting hard to keep them from spilling. you've never seen yunho cry. ever. of joy? yes. but almost shaking while holding back tears and biting his lips to keep them from quivering? perhaps it's just anger and frustration. either way, you fucked him up. and there's nothing you can do, other than leave him be.
"i hate you."
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six o'clock rolls around quite quickly. you stand in front of a motorcycle, quite bigger than you imagined. wooyoung takes his helmet off, then steps off the motorcycle. he examines you, from head to toe, a little puzzled.
"skirt? odd choice, considering that i told you we were using a motorcycle."
wooyoung then pushes your hair back, removing it from your face and letting it fall on your back. he puts the helmet on you, a slight smile on his lips as he secures it.
"you're so fucking cute it hurts. look at you in your skirt and ballerinas."
your cheeks burn from his compliments, your thighs rubbing under the delicate material. wooyoung plays with the ends of the skirt, then slips his hands on your bare skin.
"want to sit at front?" he purrs, gaze gentle and lips turned into a fond smile.
"i actually never... well, this is my first time seeing it up so close."
"so i'm your first motorcycle too? i feel honoured."
"I don't really know how to... you know, anything."
whenever you're around him, your vocabulary becomes very limited and poor. for someone who reads so much, you're struggling quite good with putting together simple sentences.
"your only job is to sit still and be pretty for me. got it?" he cups your face with one hand and gently caresses your jaw with his thumb.
you nod, not trusting yourself with speaking while he touches you in such ways.
"come on now. hop on."
you are sat in front of him, hands trapped under his while gripping the handles. you are stiff, and even if he notices, he doesn't react. he starts off slow, enough to not scare you off immediately. at one point, right at the last traffic light before exiting the city centre, he speeds up, the front of the motorcycle hanging in the air for a split second, but enough to make you gasp and fall back against his chest. you hear him chuckle near your helmet, his hand coming to rest on your hip enough to comfort you.
"i got you," he says, squeezing your hip.
you now lay comfortably against him, enjoying the smooth ride on the highway. you are alone on the road, the opposite direction crowded due to people returning home from work. you haven't felt such thrill ever. the way wooyoung controls the vehicle and smoothly changes lanes, to the way he speeds up and does the wheelie again, this time a little higher, is making you see stars. you scream, but the playful way. adrenaline rushes through your veins, and you are laughing, having the most fun of your life. he isn't saying much, and even if he was, you don't hear him. you feel comfortable in his embrace, trusting him with your life on this silent road lit by neon lights on the fences.
you gasp when you feel his cold fingers on your thigh, the texture odd. you look down, only to see that his other hand has a leather glove on, and is slowly dipping between your legs. he slows down, enough to pay more attention to you without any danger nearby. the cold leather touches your folds near your panties that have slightly moved from the reckless driving. he realises the advantage, and proceeds to rip apart the fabric. you moan at the action, remembering all those worn out pages of your books describing men ripping women's bras and panties. and now, you're a character in that page, hopefully about to have an orgasm of your lifetime.
the cold leather touches you once again, a single finger toying with your soft bud, just enough to have you panting. your head falls on his shoulder, searching for support. he circles your clit, playing with the soft flesh and checking just how wet you are getting.
"want me to stop?" he asks, and when you shake your head, he dips his fingers below your clit.
you flinch at the unfamiliar feeling, not feeling the pleasure anymore. he notices, but tries to enter once again, this time more gentle and slow. you flinch again, your head no longer resting on his shoulder. he removes his hand, gripping the handle again as he slows the vehicle. he stops at the nearby platform, the neon fence lights shining on the stone table and two benches. he gets off the motorcycle, then helps you off too. your ripped panties hit the floor, your folds caressed by the highway breeze. he takes his helmet off, hanging it on one of the handles, then helps you with yours.
you are suddenly hyperaware of the situation you are in. far from the city and people, alone in the dark with still a complete stranger, with nothing but a top and a skirt on. nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. nobody to call.
"shit, hey." wooyoung cups your face, seeing sudden anxiety on it. "do you want me to drive you back?"
you take a moment to think. if he really meant evil, wouldn't he do something by now? he wouldn't comfort you, right? wouldn't offer you a ride back? or is this just a little foreplay for him before he does something to you and leaves you to rot here?
"i mean it," the man caresses your cheeks with his thumbs.
"no, i'm good. i think."
"i am not doing anything until i am sure of it."
"no, no, i really am. i just..." you trail, looking around, "...i am very new to all of this, that's all."
wooyoung takes both of your hands, guiding you towards the stone benches and table. he sits you on the table, and he sits on the bench in front of you. he doesn't break eye-contact with you as he rubs your thighs, slightly squishing the flesh for your comfort and for his pleasure. he doesn't go further though. he gives you time to relax, until your feet start slightly swinging off the table from boredom.
"tell me about yourself."
"like what?"
"anything. just talk. i want to hear you speak. you don't do much of it, and you have such a pretty voice, especially when you make those little moans."
your cheeks are burning, and you can only look down at your hands playing with the hem of your skirt.
"come on, tell me. what do you do except studying and riding pillows these days?"
you want to say that you don't ride pillows, but the playful smile on his lips is too sweet to ruin it.
"i read, like, a lot."
"what genre is your favorite?" the man's voice is now low and raspy, his hands now slowly sliding underneath your knees.
"take a wild guess?"
"erotica?" he laughs.
you laugh with him, not yet aware of his little plan and the reason he brought you to a place far from people.
"well, tell me. what did you learn from it?"
it's like a switch was found on you. wooyoung is taking in every word you are so excitedly giving him, every expression you make as you remember various paragraphs that had you touching yourself late at night, or sometimes in the middle of the day at most random places.
"no way, you touched yourself in your college bathroom?" he is in disbelief.
"believe it or not, it becomes stronger than me. so, yes. multiple times, actually."
"what exactly did you do?" wooyoung asks, genuinely interested.
you have passed the shame barrier. the way he is caressing your skin and so comfortably talking to you about these things have you finally dropping your walls down. not even your friends have made it this far into the conversation without a smart remark or a grimace.
"just, rubbing myself, i guess? ah, i once used a water bottle to do it. it was so hot that day, and my bottle was wet and cold, and my brain just clicked."
wooyoung seems impressed, nodding his head with approval.
"i might have touched myself a little in the last row of the classroom."
"oh?" he is intrigued, mind already picturing you hidden in the last row behind your studying laptop, faking the writing while your other hand played with his new favorite thing in the world. "like this?"
the sudden contact with your clit makes you jolt, a gasp escaping your lips. he spins it in slow circles, much like you in that boring class. you breathe slowly, mouth already running dry from the sight in front of you. wooyoung stares deep into your eyes, tongue wetting his lips, and his hair messy from the highway wind. he looks incredibly good in his leather jacket and the chain necklace. you can hear yourself becoming wet, noises making both of you breathe shallow and feeding your lust drive. you feel exposed under the neon lights, under wooyoung's stare, on the side of the road. yet the pleasure is overpowering everything, and you find yourself shamelessly grinding your hips against his thumb. his confidence is affecting yours, and seeing him not give a single fuck about the location or the passerbies, it is unleashing something inside of you.
"fuck, angel, even your cunt sounds so cute."
you give yourself a moment of bravery, fingers hooking under his chain necklace and pulling his body towards you. your lips touch his, warm plush making your thighs clench. he chuckles against you, then leaves a few pecks on your bottom lip. he tugs it between his teeth, gently biting it and swiping his tongue on it. you give yourself to him, completely at his control, and only follow what he does.
he removes his hand from you, resulting in a whine leaving your mouth. he laughs again, pulling away for a moment.
"patience, baby. you're doing very good."
he kisses you again, his hands snaking around your waist and under your top. he feels your skin, the lace of your bra, plays with the hook, but doesn't undo it yet. he grazes your spine with his trimmed nails, giving you goosebumps. you shiver in his hands, wanting nothing more but to relax in his hands and have him do that to you all night long.
his tongue is restless against yours, gently rubbing against it, teeth accidentally clashing from the passion getting the most out of him. he wants all of you, right here, right now. but he can't have you just yet. like he said, he would destroy you. he can't hold back that much. he almost melts when he feels your fingers gently tug at his hair, your other hand subconsciously resting on his chest. he thinks it's cute how you are at a position above him and higher than him, yet he still has all the control over you. he also thinks it's cute how your legs are still swinging from the stone table, while you kiss him back and try to keep up with him. your kisses are short, your tongue soft, and your hair is tickling his cheeks, a complete opposite of his deep and long kisses, with an occasional teasing bite.
"wooyoung," you mumble, pulling away.
he hums, waiting for you to respond. you rest your forehead against his, taking a moment to breathe normally again.
"i want to cum on your tongue, please?" you ask so sweetly, big eyes staring into his.
"i had something else in mind, though. but i'll see what i can do, since you asked me so nicely."
he isn't sure how he can feel so soft and so hard for someone. you are the first one that is actually taking his time with him and listening to him to make it all more enjoyable. the rest of them wanted it quick, and frequent. he prefers it this way now, with more lust building up, and he knows the result will pay off. maybe you are growing impatient, maybe you'd just smack him right there on the spot, but he is very fixed on his idea, and he loves that you are listening him so patiently.
"lay down for me."
you lay on the cold surface, elbows digging into the uneven stone while they support your upper body so you can look at him. your breath hitches when his hand slides up your body, between your breasts, and up to your lips.
"open up."
and you do, taking his two fingers into your mouth. you swirl your tongue around them, slow, maintaining eye-contact with him. you are pretty sure you're dripping all over the table now, if not all over his pants too. he toys with your tongue for a while, too immersed in the way you're licking him up.
fuck, how good you'd take his cock. he'd push so slow between your glossy lips, which he would coat with his precum, and he would gently test your limits and have you gagging around him. wooyoung stops the train of thoughts before it was too late, and pulls his fingers out of your mouth. he then runs them up and down your slit, toying with the folds more than the clit. you want to groan from frustration, but you have to be patient, just like he said.
he spreads your folds, tongue diving right into the tip of your clit. your fingers reach into his hair, pulling at the dark strands and burying his head deeper into your cunt. he is loving every bit of it, willingly pushing himself deeper between your thighs and squishing them around his head. you hear him suck and lick, setting your heart on fire, and making your blood boil.
"wooyoung-" you gasp, clit abused by his restless muscle.
he only hums against you, lips sucking you slowly but with power. you don't know how loud you are, nor do you care. you let your voice loose, calling out his name, whining, bucking your hips into his mouth, moaning and chasing the orgasm that has already started to pool at the bottom of your stomach.
his fingers let go of your folds, instead focusing on a new place. he toys with your entrance, sending weird sensations through your body. ever so slowly, he pushes one finger inside, making you hold your breath at the uncomfortable feeling.
"that hurts-" you whine, all the pleasure gone.
"you can take it, right? for me?"
you look down at his eyes, the neon lights shining inside them.
"watch," he mumbles, nodding his head towards your drenched pussy.
you do as told, watching as his finger disappears into you, each pump a little less uncomfortable. he curls his finger upwards, unlocking a whole new sensation for you. you moan, more at the sight than the feeling. something about his veiny hand working on you and disappearing so smoothly inside of you is more arousing to you than a whole movie sex scene.
"i'm adding another one, alright?"
you gulp, then nod. you watch him carefully insert two fingers, slowly stretching you out. inch by inch, he fully inserts them, all the way to the knuckles, and stays there for a while.
"atta girl." he says, tone low and raspy, dripping with desire.
"it's too much," you whine, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes.
"just a little more, angel. i promise, it'll feel good." he coos, cupping your jaw with his other hand and caressing your cheek. "can you do that for me?"
you nod, fighting hard to push the tears back. the last thing you want is to turn out a coward, after all those erotica books you've told him about. reading about all that monster porn, fairy porn, and whatnot, yet you can't take two human fingers. pathetic.
"look at you, taking me so well." he praises, moving his fingers at a faster pace now.
you feel your hole stretching for the first time, and you are not sure if the sensation you are feeling is enough to make you cum. you stay still, watching him work on you, and focusing on relaxing your muscles around him. he curls his fingers up again, and another moan escapes your lips. he leans in, just enough to feel you breathe into his mouth. proper moans finally leave your mouth, and you leave all the gasps and shallow breathing behind. you shamelessly moan into his mouth, hands gripping anything they can; from his clothes and chain, to his hair and shoulders. you rock your hips along with his pumps, finally finding a path towards the sweet release. but wooyoung shows no intention of speeding up, even though you tried taking the matter into your own hands. you feel like spilling over any moment now, but the way he switches between slow and slower is driving you crazy.
"shit," he curses, suddenly pulling your body into his lap.
you moan when you sit on his fingers, knuckles trapped deep in your hole. you don't have time to process what is happening, a bright light shining into wooyoung's eyes and your back.
another motorcycle stops beside his, two people your age getting off of it.
"hey, what's up?" the stranger greets, politely waving.
the girl doesn't spare you a glance, but instead opts to stare at wooyoung.
"we're just gonna take a five minute break, sorry to bother you guys." the young man explains.
"that's fine," wooyoung smiles back.
the stranger then leaves behind one of the trees, and the girl takes a seat on the opposite of you two.
"aren't you, like, jung wooyoung?" her voice is pure torture, squeaky and fake.
"uh, yes."
"you have an enormous dick, babe. fuck, i masturbate to you almost every night."
your heart clenches, but apparently, so does your pussy, because wooyoung is quick to give you another stretch of his fingers inside you. you bite your lip, head falling on his shoulder. your back is turned towards the girl, so you cannot see if she is doing anything to get wooyoung's attention away from you. you don't like it.
"glad you enjoy my content," he replies calmly, as if he gets that every day.
maybe he does. and just then, you remember what wooyoung is. he is a cam boy, a porn star. he isn't a guy who took you on a date outside of the city. he is just someone who got tired of fucking experienced people and wants to try something new. you bite the inside of your cheek, tears gathering in your eyes now for a whole different reason.
it's his fault that he's so nice to you. didn't he say he would destroy you? you have developed a crush on him, and you didn't even realize. you need to back off, as soon as possible, before you become one of his toys for views. and with his sweet talk, it could happen without you even processing it first.
"do you do those live fuck invites anymore? i'd love to be your guest sometimes. maybe you know me, i was at top five performers last month?"
"ah, rosiedesires?" he is quick to answer.
his fingers slowly move, and you have to bury your head into his neck to keep yourself from making any noise. he smells heavenly, the scent of musk making you a little dizzy. you don't realize you are panting and whining, until he leans down to your ear.
"be good." he whispers with a little stern tone, nuzzling his nose into your cheek and leaving a quick peck there. if his fingers weren't up your pussy right now, you would've felt butterflies.
you don't know if he is mad at you, or if it's just a part of his play. either way, as bad as you are feeling, you don't want him to stop. you want him to make you cum, so that you can leave and cut all communication with him. you'll manage on your own without him, and there's still yunho. well, was. but knowing his feelings for you, he'll be quick to make up with you.
"friday night sound good?"
"yes, of course. perfect! can't wait, our followers are gonna be so excited."
did he just make a dick appointment while his fingers are deep inside of you? while you are holding back tears on his shoulder? while you are almost biting off the inside of your cheek?
"but wait, i don't do taken people. is that your partner or something?"
"ah no, that's just my coworker. he drives me home every night, we live in the same building. and uh, that..." she trails, probably pointing at you, "...is not your girlfriend?"
"no, no, of course not. she's also someone i've met on the site."
someone i've met on the site.
of course, what else did you think? that he was also falling in love with you? how stupid. now you know how yunho felt. you know exactly how he felt, when you made him feel dumb for having a one sided love. though, this isn't love yet, but still.
"shy, i see. hello, do you speak?"
the way she is talking to you is making you feel humiliated and small. as if you're an alien, asking if you speak.
"whore." you mumble.
"what?" she asks, confusion evident in her voice.
you finally raise your head, cheeks puffed and eyes red. wooyoung finally sees how bad he fucked up, and his heart breaks a little at the sight.
maybe it was just the sexual frustration. maybe it was the anger. maybe the disappointment. or maybe just the way she chewed that gum and looked at you like you were a piece of shit on the side of the road. whatever it was, it gave you enough of confidence to repeat yourself.
"whore."
"you stupid bitch," she scoffs, and you almost laugh when you see red lipstick smeared on her teeth as she calls you more names.
"openly talking about fucking a random guy and then getting offended by a single word? fucking weirdo." the words are quicker than your mind, and you feel wooyoung's fingers leaving you and instead gripping your waist.
"listen here, you fucking prude, i will fuck you up-"
"alright, let's take you home." wooyoung interrupts. "rosie, i'll reach out to you these days."
"sure thing, baby."
not so gentle anymore, wooyoung hands you the helmet. the change in his behaviour in front of a different woman is baffling to you. you feel like throwing up, and dropping right there in the middle of the road. anger is building up inside of you, enough for you to push the helmet back into his hands.
"put that on." he orders, brows knitted.
"no." you spit out.
"i will not repeat myself." his tone lowers, yet his gaze darkens.
"you don't have to." you strike back, not aware of the consequences building up.
"do you want to fucking hurt yourself? put this on right now, before i put it on for you."
fear creeps into your body, slow, and grows more with each second that passes and his gaze stays on you. you gulp, suddenly finding yourself in a mental conflict. you do not want to go with him. you want to stay here, curl up under the table and cry until morning, and mourn that little hope you had left and that he crushed. yet he is your only way home. but it is such a long drive, and you don't have the energy to be near him.
so you turn your back, and start walking towards the city lights.
"and just what do you think you are doing?" wooyoung grabs your elbow, pulling your body against his.
"leave me be."
"i asked, what do you think you are doing?" he asks again, gaze not softening.
"i am going home."
"you're-"
"jung wooyoung," you say through gritted teeth," i. am. going. home."
and with that, you start your way to the distant skyscrapers. it hurts you that only two minutes after, two motorcycles pass by you, one of them very familiar. he only spares you a glance through the mirror, then speeds up and disappears.
finally, you cry. loud sobs, chest heavy and body shaking. you drag your legs for what seems like hours, yet the buildings remained the same. you pull out your phone, searching through contacts. nobody is close enough with you for you to call them and pick you up. except your only fast dial, yunho.
what is there to lose? you've reached the bottom anyways.
it takes only two rings for him to pick up, and you fail to greet him. instead, a sob leaves your mouth.
"tiny?" he calls, voice concerned.
"can you please come get me?"
to say that yunho was furious would be an understatement. you haven't told him anything yet, but it was enough to find you sitting alone on a bench outside of the city, on a road where prostitutes and dealers often met, with ripped panties laying on the floor.
his heart is tight, and he feels his throat closing as he approaches you. dark lines decorate your puffed cheeks, the makeup you always so happily put on now a fluid disaster. you run into yunho's arms, finally warm and secure. he buries his noise into your hair, leaving kisses on top of your head as he rubs your back. he knows what to do when you're upset, and you are grateful for that. you need silent support, no questions, no getting you to talk, just someone's presence and comfort. you finally look into his eyes, and just when you thought you cried it all out, you start sobbing again.
"it's okay." he assures you, cupping your face.
"can i stay-" you hiccup, your lungs having a hard time to balance breathing and speaking, "can i-"
you sob again, frustrated because you can't form a sentence. you feel like ripping your hair out because of your stupidity.
"you can stay at my place," yunho understands, gently guiding you towards his car and opening the back door for you.
"no, no-"
"there's more space for you to lay down. trust me, you'll be comfortable."
"i want the front."
"but-"
"please."
yunho doesn't immediately drive to his place. he drives past the highway exits for the city, and you are too tired to question it. you fight to stay awake, but the burning sensation of your eyes is making it quite difficult. every now and then, yunho glances at you, making sure you're alright and comfortable. you have your seat pushed back, and your body turned towards him. it makes you feel safer when you open your eyes and see him in front of you.
the lights are fading, allowing the moonlight to take over and illuminate yunho's face. has he always been this pretty?
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you're skipping classes, opting to stay in yunho's bed instead. you're rotting in his room, only watching him come and go. he has a job, and classes to attend, and by the time he finally gets home, you are fast asleep. the food he so carefully prepares you stays cold on the counter, flies getting to it before you do. it is making him sad, seeing you in such a state. you didn't speak of that night, and he didn't want to ask in case you go further into your shell.
today was no different. you are awoken by his alarm, then him tossing and turning on his side. he is careful to leave a distance between you two, even when he is asleep. you feel the warmth leave the space behind your back, then hear footsteps. you hear shuffling, and you open your eyes to see what he is wearing today.
he wears a plain white t-shirt, black ripped jeans, and a leather jacket. the weather is still confusing, and you are glad you don't have to tell him to bring a jacket with him. he also wears his signature boots, sitting on your side of the bed as he puts them on.
"yuyu?" you call.
"yes, sweetheart?"
"when are you coming home today?"
he stays silent. you think he doesn't hear you, so you repeat. yunho sighs.
"i don't have classes today. and i have a day off."
"oh," is all you can say. you aren't sure if it's a sound of disappointment or surprise. either way, you are not thrilled.
"i'll be back in a few hours."
he doesn't look at you. instead, he stands up, picking up his bag and house keys. you finally sit up straight, blanket still wrapped around you.
"where-" you clear your throat, voice coming out raspy and cracking, "-where are you going?"
"a date."
yunho finally spares you a glance, one enough to let you know that he grew tired of you playing with his emotions, and is tired catering to you when all of his efforts have gone to waste.
"there's food in the fridge if you get hungry. i'm having breakfast outside."
then there you are, again in the dark room, alone with your thoughts. you think about both of them. yunho, who has been by your side for so long, and has respected your boundaries despite his strong feelings. and wooyoung, who is there just a few weeks, yet has such a strong impact on you. you feel discarded by both sides. yunho? justified. wooyoung? not as much.
yes, he is just a porn star. yes, you may be delusional. and yes, he might fuck other people. but the urge in you to feel him just one more time, to let him teach you so you can be good enough for someone you truly care about, is burning inside of you.
bullshit. you want to be good enough for him. you have always been way more intrigued by things you cannot have. wooyoung is an unattainable goal, something you can only dream of having. then again, what do you actually want with him? you only know him sexually, you know nothing about him as a person. you only crave him physically, while you crave yunho emotionally.
but you can't have both, and the way the tables have turned, you are left with neither.
the day is slow, and the sun is going down with the tiktoks on your phone screen. when you feel your stomach tighten and growl, you finally glance at the room around you. it is dark, it smells like old clothes, and the lack of fresh air starts suffocating you. yunho's washed, unironed work clothes sit on his gaming chair, waiting to be ironed by him. it would have been done long time ago, if you didn't take up his whole room.
you switch between the apps, from tiktoks to reels, to youtube shorts, then back to reels. you've seen every video possible, not a single one funny anymore. you feel numb. your stomach is giving you signals, which you so successfully ignore. much like your bladder. it is hitting your ovaries, causing indescribable pain, yet you choose to lay there and mourn over your will to live. you return to the instagram homepage, and when you see yunho's icon in the stories, you just have to click it. when you do, you see him posing with a young woman your age, at the breakfast place you used to visit the first year of college. he has ordered his usual, you notice. and she has ordered yours.
he looks genuinely happy, his smile wide, and his eyes squinted. his arm is wrapped around her shoulders, and the other one holds the phone taking the picture. she is busy holding his face in her hand, lightly squishing his cheeks, just like you like to do.
"fuck me." you groan, then shut your phone off.
as if a switch has clicked inside of you, you run to the bathroom, eager to end your suffering. it takes you less than half an hour to take a shower, put on clean clothes, and do the basic skin care you have ignored for a few days now. you use yunho's expensive products, of course. he won't mind as long as he doesn't know you used them.
by the time the sun sets, the room looks brand new. you have put on new sheets, dusted the shelves, vacuumed the floor, and even ironed his clothes and neatly put them in the closet. the messy notes on his desk were now waiting for him in the drawer, with an attached pink note from you of the solution to the math problem he has been trying to solve on four pages now.
in the kitchen, you fish for ingredients. you decide to make his favorite for when he comes home, to at least thank him somehow for giving you comfort and support these days.
what time do you think you are coming?
yunho: around half an hour to an hour, i think. why?
i am making dinner, i didn't want to start early so it doesn't get cold.
you see the three dots on his screen popping up a few times, then disappearing. you set the phone aside, focusing on the garlic and onion in the pan so they don't get burnt. he loves your pasta bolognese, and won't eat it anywhere but from you. special flavor, he says. you don't have the heart to tell him that you just add in one more spice that the restaurants don't. you don't want to break the little tradition of you making pasta late at night for the two of you.
your phone pings, twice.
wooyoung has started a live! tap to watch.
yunho: i'm not coming for dinner. sorry x
and it's all it takes. really, that's all.
it takes less than five minutes for you to shut off the stove, then settle in the freshly made bed, yunho's boxers already pooling at your ankles. you realize how pathetic you look, getting ready to touch yourself to a guy that left you on the side of the road, in your best friend's bed. but to be fair, you were stubborn too. maybe you just didn't expect him to let you go so easily. maybe you expected him to stay back and comfort you, say sorry because of his harsh actions. or at least reach out to you afterwards. but no, jung wooyoung kept his distance. you checked the messages, regularly. not even an online tag from him. nothing.
until now.
wooyoung has started a live with rosiedairies! tap to watch.
your stomach tightens. is it friday already? time for that dick appointment. your finger hovers over the notificaton, mind working hard to figure out whether or not you can handle looking at something like that. you convince yourself that you can. it's just sex. it's not like you've never seen it before.
your finger taps the notification, and your screen take up two naked bodies, already going at it. it isn't hot at all. you could swear that all your arousal has dried up within two seconds.
wooyoung has the camera showing her face as she stays in doggy position and only his lower body is visible behind her, hips snapping harshly into hers. it doesn't look real. it look so staged and fake, ugly and raw. but she seems to love it, judging by the way her eyes roll to the back of her head and the noises overpowering the ones of skin clapping. wooyoung pulls her hair, and even though you've fantasized about that too, it isn't quite like this. all that hair pulling in your fanfics and books was indeed harsh, but still with a note of passion and love. this? this was pure pain.
"harder, harder-" she chokes, seductively looking at the camera.
what she asks, wooyoung delivers. the grip on her waist makes her skin white, likely to leave bruises afterwards. he picks up the camera, angling it on her bottom and his pelvis. the sight isn't a turn on for you, but you notice the condom, the bruises on her skin, and the scratch marks on his body. the people in the comment section are going feral, giving him orders on what to do to her, on what they'd like to do to him, and sending lots of money. you're grossed out, and just when you are about to exit the site, you hear the front door shut.
you pull the boxers up, jumping out of the bed and making it. you lock your phone, throwing it on the nightstand, before rushing to the bathroom and shutting the door. you hear footsteps, and not double ones like you expected. you fix your hair in the mirror, trying for that i woke up like this look.
"it's me," he announces while entering the room.
"back already?"
"wow."
you fail to hide the smile because of his reaction. he was probably expecting to find you laying under a blanket with your phone on full volume, like he did for the past few days. you didn't even take care of yourself, let alone help him with chores. you wanted to redeem yourself, at least a little bit.
you exit the bathroom as nonchalantly as you can, as if you didn't just do a 180° in the time he was out. he looks even more dashing than when he left. his hair is messy and skin glowing, and his lips have that red tint that suits him so well.
"how was your date?"
"it was great," he avoids your gaze while scratching his neck, "we're going on a second one sunday evening. making it fancy this time."
"that's so awesome! i'm happy for you."
your acting is so convincing, it has yunho feeling disappointed with your behaviour. sure, you wouldn't be jealous. but wouldn't you be bothered at least a little bit? a random girl entering your lives and taking up his free time instead of you, and you are happy?
"what do you say we go out for breakfast tomorrow, and i'll tell you everything?" he tests the grounds.
"sounds wonderful." you don't drop your guard.
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you forget that yunho doesn't know the actual situation with wooyoung. so when he stops in front of the coffee shop the next morning and holds the door open for you, you rather enter than make a fuss out of it. you slide into your usual seat, letting yunho take the orders. the familiar man exits the pantry, smile dropping when he sees his next costumer. he immediately searches for your figure in the seating area, and upon finding you, he fails to hide a smile. you, on the other hand, don't. you stand your ground, poker face on and emotions on standby. for now.
"iced americano and a strawberry mocha?"
"yes," yunho confirms, "extra-"
"extra syrup, whipped cream, pearls. got it."
yunho looks annoyed, but doesn't say anything. he almost throws the money at wooyoung, tells him to keep the change, then joins you at the table.
you finally take a good look at him. each day, he is getting more attractive in your eyes. did he always dress this handsomely? was he always this tall?
"you like my coat?" he laughs, noticing your stare.
"well, yes. suits you. the turtleneck too. when did you get a fashion sense?"
"i've got to attract the ladies somehow." yunho jokes, then becomes serious once he sees wooyoung approaching with the beverages.
the cup is placed in front of you, and right away, you see a difference. knowing that you'll let it slide, yunho decides to speak for you.
"pearl sprinkles. not this rainbow puke."
"i only have rainbow puke." wooyoung scoffs, throwing the paper straws on the table. "drink it, or don't. i don't care."
"you should've told me that when i ordered." yunho keeps pushing, and the tension between the two is making you squirm in the chair.
"well guess what?" wooyoung leans in, one hand on the table, the other on the back of your chair. his face is inches away from yours, eyes fixed on your widened ones.
"get away from her, that's highly unprofessional."
"if she minded, she would've said something," the barista looks over at yunho for a split second, then returns his gaze on you, "but she doesn't mind, do you, darling?"
stuck between not wanting to hurt yunho, and wanting to subconsciously submit to wooyoung, you remain silent. wooyoung stays in the position for what seemed like hours, even though it was mere three seconds of it, then finally takes his position behind the counter.
"right, forgot he's your new boyfriend," the man on your opposite scoffs and takes a sip of his beverage.
"he's not-"
"kiyomi will be here any minute, by the way. can't wait for you to meet her."
"woah, is she okay with meeting me so soon? i mean, your first date was yesterday?"
he shrugs, glancing at his phone, "i don't see why not. you're just a friend. it's not like you're a relative or someone closer."
ouch.
"right," you clear your throat.
as promised, she arrives, breaking the silence and interrupting yunho's twitter scrolling. she's pretty, just like on the picture. the moment she sits next to him and starts talking, you see she is obsessed with him. she is joyful, talkative, optimistic, everything that you currently aren't. you notice wooyoung looking over multiple times, but what you don't notice is the way yunho is examining your face, looking for any clues of jealousy or discomfort.
you seem unaffected, and it makes his heart ache. just what does he have to do to get to you? getting a girl just to experiment didn't work, and now he has to either let the poor girl go or keep fueling her hopes and leave her later, until he gets a reaction from you. yumho hates himself for doing that. but yunho hates you too, as much as he loves you. you break his heart every day, but every time you look at him, you put it back together so easily. he wants to kiss you, as much as he wants to push you away from himself. he is lost in his own emotions, and doesn't know what he wants anymore.
"excuse me, i'll be right back."
"where are you going?" yunho betrays himself, asking you too quickly.
"toilet. wanna come?" you try to lighten the situation with a joke, seeing his date tense up at his reaction.
"ah no, thanks. gross. you go enjoy yourself. don't fall in." he joins in the joke, also taking notice of his partner's body language.
you enter the toilet, ignoring the cash register where wooyoung has busied himself with typing something on the screen. the you in the mirror looks like she is mocking you, your clothes and your behaviour. you've put on the newest dress you had, and you don't even know for who. both of them? you like yunho's soft lingering gaze on you, yet you enjoy the way wooyoung looks a second away from devouring you on that table. it's a simple long sleeved dress, really, paired with knee-high boots yunho had bought you for christmas.
the door swings open, bumping into you and pushing you against the wall. you only catch a glimpse of the familiar apron, before the man cups your face and presses his lips on yours. you are taken aback, body frozen against the cold tiles. wooyoung holds your face gently, lips moving slow as to not scare you off more.
"i'm sorry, i'm so fucking sorry," he whispers against your lips, pecking them a few times before apologizing again.
"wooyoung-"
"please, let me make it up to you. i don't care what that cunt outside says, i don't believe him anyway, just let me make it up to you."
you're having a hard time thinking rationally. do you really trust him enough to not hurt you again? fuck, but his lips feel so good. but oh, how yunho's hugs feel like home.
but nobody has ever shown desire the way wooyoung does.
yet nobody has more patience for you than yunho.
"you're thinking too much. let me fix that."
your lips are trapped by his once again, this time more rhythmic. you give into the touch, erasing the man outside completely from your mind.
"you're so sweet."
you hum against his lips, hands tugging at his white ironed shirt, the first two buttons separated as always.
"so cute." kiss. "so pretty." kiss. "so adorable." kiss. "so perfect."
you're not sure where it is going, but you do not complain. you do not complain when he lifts you on the counter near the sink either, flipping your dress up and ripping your panties again. you feel your core tighten, and you think you'll just never get enough of the picture of him ripping your clothes apart.
"let me make you melt on my tongue. please, god, I need it. i so desperately need you, all of you."
"here?" you ask, glancing at the door.
"here, out there, in the pantry, at your place, my place, everywhere. i'd take you to the roof if you told me to."
"anyone could walk in-"
you gasp mid sentence, cold metal pressing against your clit. wooyoung intentionally rubs your folds with his knuckles, giving you the cold sensation of his rings. your head rests against the mirror, hips already grinding into his hand.
loosing his patience, wooyoung sinks to his knees, your legs resting over his shoulders. he dives in, like it's his last meal. he licks hot stripes up your clit, pointy part of his tongue flicking the tip of it. you moan each time he does so, feeling your bud already becoming abused.
while he usually takes his time with you, today he is quick to separate your legs and go feral on you. his tongue is quick, so quick that it has you shaking uncontrollably against his mouth. you're shuddering, begging, pulling at his hair, all at once. a blabbering mess, as he eats you like there's no tomorrow. he dips his tongue into your arousal, letting out a moan of satisfaction.
"can i please cum?" you ask, knowing that he never lets you. why would today be different?
"no, no. not yet." he moves away, standing up and getting back to your face. "it needs to be special."
"it's just an orgasm, how special can it be?"
"mine always are, believe me. i want to be your first real one. i want you to remember it." wooyoung says as he continues to caress your cheeks with his thumbs.
the action is affectionate, as if he just confessed to having a crush on you and didn't just eat you out. funny how every time you meet him, you end up getting absolutely devoured by him in ways that you didn't even read about. he is passionate about it, to the point that it makes you think that he does it for his own pleasure.
"come over to my place."
"what?" your voice comes out louder than you wanted it.
"my place. i'll take good care of you. give you what you deserve."
you don't have time to reply, he is pulling you off the sink and disappearing into a stall. a quick glance in the mirror is enough to make your hands shoot up to your hair, straightening it and fixing the smeared mascara on the corner of your eyes.
"hey?"
yunho's head peeks inside, scanning the room. he sees you alone, and immediately feels at ease.
"yes, yunho?"
"i just got worried, you've been here for a while." he admits.
"so you left your date alone?" you can't bear to look him in the eyes, not when you just finished messing with the person he saved you from the other night.
"to be truthful, i saw that shitass barista disappear somewhere, and i thought he came after you. i'd hate to think that something happened to you and i was sitting just outside."
you appreciate his truthfulness, and don't have the heart to tell him just how weak to your instincts you are.
"don't worry, i'm good. let's go."
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wooyoung: it's been almost a week
wooyoung: you don't think about me at all?
wooyoung: my offer, i mean. not me.
you don't know if you're being delusional, but you feel like the tables have turned. which is why you have reached out to another friend, one that doesn't have feelings for you and won't try to sabotage, well, whatever this is.
"honestly, from all these messages, you have unknowingly made him chase you. notice how you don't say much and he comes back texting you multiple times?" choi san is quick to explain, using his own flirting skills to decipher the conversation.
he lays on his stomach on your bed, pillow under it and legs swinging in the air. his freshly dyed blonde hair is a dry mess, struggling to hold onto his scalp. you wonder why his job requires him to ruin himself this much.
"now what do i do?"
"well, luckily for you, your lack of communication is what got you an advantage here. let's face it, you're dry as fuck."
"thanks."
"welcome. anyways, in your case, that's good. see? instead of giving up and leaving, he keeps coming back to you. and eating your pussy every time you two meet? are you kidding me? that man is obsessed with you."
at the mention of him eating you, your thighs clench, almost feeling his tongue down there. it is driving you crazy, having so much pleasure yet not reaching the peak. he is torturing you, on purpose.
wooyoung: i'll make you cum so hard you'll never wish for anyone but me
wooyoung: and that's a promise.
two new messages light up your phone, san grabbing it before you can. he covers his mouth, eyes wide as he reads the messages over and over. he unlocks the phone, and begins typing.
"no!"
"i'm doing you a favor!" he exclaims, running around the room and still typing.
you hear the sending sound, and your face heats up. he throws the phone on your bed, and sits right next to you.
"what have you done?"
"see for yourself. that, my dear, is called not being dry."
bold of you to think that i'll only wish for you
"that doesn't sound like me at all! you blew it!"
you are quick to bury your face in a pillow, already mourning all this time you've spent and regretting inviting san to help. but when another notification decorates your screen, you almost jump.
wooyoung: why don't you come over for a demostration?
"you do realize that if you go, you might lose your v-card?"
"i know."
"and you're sure that's the person you want to do it with?"
"yes."
he believes you as much as you believe yourself. you always thought your first time would be somewhere romantic, pre-planned, with the person you love and loves you back. not in the apartment of a porn star. and not with someone that only knows your name.
"you know, my heart really hurts for yunho."
"i invited you to avoid him. why are you bringing him up?" your fierce tone takes him aback, and it takes you aback too, you just manage to not show it.
"wow." san exhales.
"sorry, just- it's none of your business."
"how is it none of my business? i mean, i tried to not get involved, even came here to help you hook up with a complete stranger and help you throw away the best thing that can and will happen to you. i introduced you to yunho, knowing full well on his harmless little crush on you, and knowing full well that you were perfect for him. only to have you-"
"wait a minute, you can't guilt trip me into liking him."
the man in front of you is baffled with your reply, and you feel like you're not looking at one of your close friends anymore. now, you are looking at yunho's best friend, almost his younger brother. you forgot that before you, there was the two of them.
"someone seriously needs to fuck that attitude right out of you. you're acting like an animal in heat."
"well i'm fucking trying to!"
"well you're trying the wrong fucking way!"
"do not tell me who and how to fuck!"
the phone is pinging on your bed, not helping the situation at all. san is looking more disappointed than angry, his eyes becoming scarily dark.
"the fuck do you even know about fucking?"
"i know enough." you don't drop your guard.
san takes a step towards you, examining your face. then another, and another, until you are pushed in the corner of your room with him towering over you. there is nothing attractive about it in this situation, and you wish
"you may know about fucking, but you don't know shit about loving."
"shut up," is the only thing you manage to say, biting back tears.
"i am not guilt tripping you to like or love anyone, but the least you could do is let him down gently and stop playing push and pull with him. giving him hope, then shattering him right after it? not quite moral in my book."
"look, i'm in a difficult situation. i just- i like them both."
choi san laughs, sarcastically. he doesn't find it funny. he just doesn't know how to respond anymore.
"you don't like them both. you like wooyoung, and want to keep yunho as a backup."
"excuse-?"
"save it. i don't even know why i came here, helping you hurt my friend. you have started thinking with your pussy more than your brain, and you're losing people because of it. if you're horny, watch fucking porn."
with that, he grabs his leather jacket off your bed, and storms outside. you are feeling frustrated, angry, and sad. he is right, you know it. but you don't want to admit it. because somehow, in your head, if you don't admit it, it isn't like that. ignoring a problem makes it go away. simple as that.
you want to keep yunho, and his love, and his affection, but you want a taste of wooyoung so bad. so bad that your clit aches when you open his messages, yearning for his cold fingers and hot tongue.
wooyoung: do you like movies?
wooyoung: i thought we could watch the live adaptation of that book you like reading
wooyoung: what was it again?
wooyoung: if you want to, of course
wooyoung has sent a picture! tap to view.
you stop breathing for a moment, thinking of all the things you could expect in that image. you breathe out when you open it, seeing a pullout sofa and a blanket on it, along with snacks and two bottles of soda.
wooyoung: i'd be happy if you joined me :)
why, rosie unavailable?
wooyoung: i'm gonna go ahead and ignore that, for the sake of both of us
whatever that means
why are you the one sabotaging yourself now? yunho isn't here, and san has left too. then why?
wooyoung: it means that i don't like it when people mock what i do
wooyoung: and when people mock me, i become angry
wooyoung: and angry and horny don't go well together
wooyoung: unless you want to put it to test?
wooyoung angry fucking you? you grimace. would it be the kind of sex he did in his last live with that rosie girl? if yes, you are feeling very turned off right now. he must've sensed the lack of replying on your side, and is quick to respond again.
wooyoung: can't help it, sorry
wooyoung: just come over and we can hang?
your phone pings, sending you a message with a different name on top.
choi san: bet his new live will bring him a fortune. who else has taken someone's virginity live on a porn site?
what the fuck are you on about? there's no live.
choi san: that's what you think
choi san: or that's what he'll make you think
choi san: unless he convinces you to willingly do it
he wouldn't. would he? wooyoung who has asked you before each contact whether you're sure, or whether you're feeling nervous. wooyoung who already had his hands on your tits, and still wanted to ask if you're sure. he wouldn't secretly film you. he wouldn't.
what do you consider a hang? and why?
wooyoung: just hang? watch that movie and talk?
wooyoung: because
wooyoung: idk
wooyoung: you're so stiff and awkward yet i wanna know more about you and see you
wooyoung: i guess i want to be the one to unstiff you?
wooyoung: NOT LIKE THAT
wooyoung: i dropped my cool guy vibe just like that
wooyoung: look at me texting you multiple times in a row
wooyoung: i've never ever done that in my life for anyone
wooyoung: so...?
so san was right. you did unintentionally make him chase you. played hard to catch without even knowing it. you have a whole porn star folding for you, and offering you all you ever wanted. or at least you think you wanted.
ping!
yunho: hey just wanted to ask if everything is alright?
yunho: sorry if i somehow hurt you
yunho: you seem a little distant, and i know it might be because of the kiyomi situation, but i promise i care about you so much
yunho: if you want you can come over and we can make that pasta together?
yunho: i also want to talk to you
yunho: properly
it's now or never.
you gonna pick me up or?
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you sit in the familiar car, the smell of it relaxing you. he knows how to make scents work and not make them literally bite your nose. you take a good look at him. he wears a simple short sleeved black t-shirt, along with grey ripped jeans and black boots. his hair is a little messy, but it only adds up to his look. every time you see him, you forget just how good he looks.
"angel?"
"wooyoung?"
he laughs, eyes not moving off the road.
"are you okay?"
"yes." you simply reply, shifting your attention to the surrounding houses.
you don't speak the rest of the way, just enjoying his humming and wheel tapping. it isn't uncomfortable silence. at least not for you. you can also hear faint vibrations coming from your phone in your bag, and you know exactly who they belong to.
"whoever that is, they sure are persistent." wooyoung comments.
"sorry. i'll shut it off."
"oh, no. please. i was just noticing."
you finally take the phone out, screen bombarded with his notifications. just when you wanted to clear the notification tab, he calls, and you click the green phone.
"shit."
"hello?"
wooyoung glances at your phone, eyebrows furrowed. he keeps driving, not saying a word.
"hey, yunho, now is not a good time-"
"it never is lately anyway. listen, i will just say what i wanted to like this."
"yunho, no-"
"i love you. i don't even think about the words like or crush anymore, i know, i'm sure, that i love you. and i know you're slipping away from me, and i know there's no way to stop it."
you stare at wooyoung, who is carefully listening to the voice coming from your device. you are shaking, thoughts running wild. you are becoming more aware of your feelings towards yunho, and aware about the situation you are putting yourself in. you are on your way to shatter everything you've ever had with him, and everything you could've had with him. for just a taste of what seemed to only exist in your mind.
"i won't blame you if you go with him. i'm just afraid of you getting hurt, maybe worse than that night. and this time i might not be around to fix it. i do not have the energy anymore. i'm sorry."
san was right about this too, and you hate him for it. all this time you subconsciously kept yunho as a backup. you've convinced yourself that he isn't your type, and you did so good at it. until now.
"i'm not saying you should respond to any of my feelings, but it would've been nice if you came to me and said something along the lines of "sorry yunho, i don't think we will ever be what you want us to be" instead of luring me in and pushing me around. calling me when you need it, then ignore me when you get what you want. i hate that i love you, and i hate that i have to humiliate myself like this every damn time. but i promised myself this would be my last. unless you really wish to discuss all of this properly, and whether or not you want our friendship to continue despite all this. tonight is your last chance. i am speaking to you as a friend now. i want to know where i stand."
you are speechless. he has touched the darkest spot in your heart. that dusty corner reserved for love. the kind of love san accused you of not knowing. how are you supposed to respond when there is a whole man next to you, a man who has also asked you to hang and talk tonight?
"i'll wait until midnight. if you don't show up, that will also help me know where i stand. but then, know that you might not hear from me anymore."
the phone call ends just in time when wooyoung pulls up in his parking spot. he silently exits, opening the door for you. still overwhelmed by the one sided conversation that just happened, you remain seated.
"if you're going to be sulky like that, i will just drive you to him." wooyoung offers, annoyance clear in his tone.
you feel a little irritated for his lack of empathy. but who would empathize with such an awful person like yourself? wooyoung sighs, then crouches in front of the open door on your side.
"you can't sit on two stools at a time, angel. i understand that emotions are hard, and love is complicated. right now, i am offering you something simple, and something harmless. i am not looking for love, i think. i just want to help you discover, and i want to discover you."
not looking for love, that you know. but it feels different hearing it out loud. the i think part right after it went right over your head, only adding to the you really are dense agenda.
"yunho is offering you commitment. real love. something i'm not quite capable of giving you, or anyone. i think with my dick, and he thinks with his heart. that creates a problem for you, because you want to be loved, but you also want a dick to make you stop thinking."
you aren't sure if he is dirty talking, or if this is just the way he speaks about these things. you finally look at him. his hand reaches for yours, gently guiding you out of the car.
"you can sit down and think inside."
but there was not much thinking. you were quick to lay on top of wooyoung, entirely relaxed in his arms as his nails grazed the skin of your thighs. non sexually. just innocent pleasure and the movie playing in the back. but you can't relax all the way, because you know where tonight will lead. you squirming under wooyoung's touch, the only emotions present being lust and yeaerning. you liked yunho. you really did. but the way wooyoung handles you is not like any other. you need to have it, at least one more time.
"you're not watching the movie."
"i know."
"then what are you doing?"
"thinking."
wooyoung sighs. his hands halt on your waist, then help you sit up on his lower stomach as he stays laying down.
"be honest with me. what exactly do you want? i won't judge you."
"i don't know." you lie.
"let me try a different approach. what do you want with me? be completely raw, so we can both know where we stand."
and you do just that. tell him all about your desires, about the feeling of lust which you've mistaken as a crush towards him, about loving how desirable you are feeling when it comes to him, and everything that comes to your mind. he listens, slowly nodding his head as you speak.
"i guess i want to have a little fun with no commitment before the, you know, actual commitment."
"i understand. now, what do you want with yunho?"
"everything."
you do want everything with him. from the kisses he is dying to offer you to whatever kinkery he has hidden behind those shiny eyes. yunho is a man every girl wants, including you, yet he only has heart eyes for you. and you'd be stupid to let that go.
"then go for it."
"see, the thing is- i already got a taste of you. and i want closure. i want to finally get that orgasm you've been delaying for so long."
wooyoung nods, eyebrows a little scrunched. he is focused on putting a stray hair behind your ear, and when that hair refuses to obey him over and over again, he huffs, and finally gives your sentence attention.
"we need to discuss first. what kind of orgasm are we talking?"
"what do you mean?"
"well, now that you've finally come to terms with your feelings towards that yunho dude, taking your v-card is off the table?"
"yeah, i guess." you shrug, as if it was just a hug you were talking about.
"just to warn you, it hurts like hell."
"that i know. thanks."
"he can reach out to me for some tips if he wants. just saying."
"got it."
he smiles, then proceeds.
"filming is off the table?"
"uh-"
"just asking, not forcing. if we are going to do simple oral and, or, fingering, then you know... i'd maybe like some footage. at least for me to enjoy sometimes."
come to think of it, it is risky, and it is something that you wouldn't do ever again when or if you become yunho's partner. this is maybe a once in a lifetime opportunity, and you don't want to waste it.
"i'll give you back by midnight, baby." he winks.
"okay." you agree.
you feel your heart beat faster, and louder. you have just agreed to be filmed, in a stranger's house, touched by that same stranger, and the video will be up for so many people to see. so what? you'll ask him to blur or cut the face out of the frame. simple as that.
"come on then."
the young man stands up, giving you his open hand. little do you know that the gaze you're giving him from below him on that couch is making his pants feel very tight.
you accept his hand, and allow him to lead you to his room. your eyes land on the bed. the very same bed and pillows where he filmed that live, and many other lives after that. wooyoung then gently pushes you towards the bed, hands grazing your waist while his eyes admire your outfit. it looks so easy to take off.
he carefully pushes you on the bed, and you swear you've never felt a mattress so soft. he climbs on the bed, hovering over you and giving you one more head to toe scan.
"so pretty." he whispers.
"thank you." you say, not knowing what else to do.
he laughs, then leans in to give you a kiss sweeter than those cake pops you used to eat throughout your whole high school. he kisses you again, again and again, until you start yearning for more. you reach for his shoulders, hair, neck, anything to make him deepen the kiss and give you one of his passionate ones. he takes his time, playing with your bottom lip and tugging it between his teeth.
"patience." he instructs, then untangles your hands from his hair.
he reaches towards the nightstand. the same nightstand from which he pulled that clear toy out that night you discovered him. instead of something crazy, he pulls a single piece of long fabric. the fabric is shiny and pink, with lace decorating it.
"you trust me?"
"completely."
"that's a good girl." he kisses your forehead before putting the silk over your eyes. "raise your head for me a little bit."
you do as told, enough so he can tie it up behind your head. he adjusts your hair, letting it fall over your shoulders, then traces his finger down your neck and to your collarbones. you almost shiver at his touch. he continues his journey to your shoulders, gently pulling down the sleeves of your dress, then does the same to the other. you feel like everything is ten times more intense, since you can't see anything anymore.
he pulls his hand back, then shuffles on top of you for a while. you hear something hit the floor, and then feel the mattress dip between your legs. wooyoung takes your hand, guiding it towards a  source of warmth. you breathe out when you touch his warm skin, nails yearning to dig into it. he helps you trace his abs, his formed chest, and all the way down to his defined v-line. you feel a few veins leading to a place of heaven, or hell, and you have to bite your lip to keep you from smiling.
this is exactly what you want.
"can i see?" you ask nicely.
"no. just feel." he declines, and you hear him smile as he says that.
"okay." you comply, using the opportunity to touch a little more
he then gets off the bed again, and you hear slight rattling. he must be setting up the camera. it doesn't take long for him to come back, placing an object next to you at a certain position.
"i'm only going to be filming myself and your lower body, alright? something like your point of view? you okay with that?"
"yes."
"you sure?"
"yes." you breathe out, feeling his hands caressing your hips.
"we need a safe word, angel."
"god, i don't know, just touch me already. please." you beg like a pathetic slut.
"i know you're impatient, but i really need you to think of a word."
"i don't know." you're becoming annoyed with him.
"how about..." he hums, then kisses your jawline, "mocha?"
"y-yes, that sounds good." you stutter as he plants kisses along your jawline, going down your neck and stopping at collarbones.
"so when you say mocha, i'm stopping everything i'm doing. got it?"
"yes."
"good. i'm turning it on now."
you hear a click, then a short sound. he waits a little, probably for people to join.
"hi, my favorite people. i would do some talking, but to be honest, i can't wait to dive into today's special."
you don' t have time to process his words, he is shuffling through the drawers again. wooyoung then takes your clothes off, and you help him by raising your hips, pulling your arms out your sleeves, all to make him satisfied. he plants a kiss on your knuckles, thumb grazing over them before he sets your hand back down. his lips hover above your skin, blowing cool air along the line of the lingerie bra you wore.
"i like you more in those pastels." he admits.
the man cups your breasts, slowly massaging them and letting his thumbs graze your tense buds over the thin black lace. you squirm under his touch, feeling the pleasure pool in your lower stomach. you swear you could cum from only nipple touching if he did it long enough. you could try that once.
"she's awfully quiet, isn't she? what should i do to her?" he speaks to the camera.
he then takes a few seconds to read the written suggestions, and then chuckles.
"take off the bra? oh, but i quite like it like this. it makes the situation sexier and more intimate. doesn't look like that raw porn you can find on pornhub, right?"
he is right. you got all dolled up for him, would be a shame if he took everything off so soon. you feel a warm wet muscle trace around your areola, building anticipation. his other hand plays with it too, not once touching the nerve ending that is angrily sticking out and demanding attention. he finally gives in, closing his lips around the tense bud and ever so lightly grazes it with the tip of his tongue.
you gasp, arching your back from the mattress. his hand is quick to find its place on your stomach, pushing  your body back down and caressing your skin along the way.
"atta girl." he praises, seeing just how obedient you are for him.
his teeth graze your nipple, then gently tug at it. you twitch, hands flying towards him in hopes to grab his hair. he is quick to grab your wrists, pinning your hands above your head.
"i'm the one doing the exploring, angel. you lay there for me like the patient pretty doll you are."
you nod, immediately becoming still. his fingers find a path down your stomach, to the line of your panties. he caresses the skin right above your clit, circling it, grazing the inside of your thighs, your folds, all while ignoring the burning place right in the middle of all that. your hips almost buck into his hand, but you remember to be good. he pushes the panties aside, revealing you to himself and the camera.
"oh, so pretty." he exhales.
you hear him put his fingers in his mouth, coating them in saliva, then dip between your folds. you whine when he touches the tip of your clit, spinning it in circles and making you gasp for air. your hands are still pinned above your head, and his knee is fast to hold your legs open by pressing the inside of your thigh into the mattress. he then dips his fingers below, first one, then two. the feeling of strange and a little uncomfortable is back, but when he starts pumping in and out at a slow pace, occasionally curling his fingers up, you are a moaning mess. you can hear just how wet you are for him, and each time he buries his fingers deep inside of you, you have to fight the urge to moan louder.
"wish you could see just how well you're taking me."
you remember how absolutely hot it looked that night, seeing his fingers disappear inside of you.
"good, good girl. one more? think you can handle?"
there is two already, but you still nod. he adds another finger, deliciously stretching you out and giving you trouble breathing. it seems like hours have passed, and wooyoung is still content with fingering you at a pace that is too slow even for you. he is enjoying the sounds and view you are offering him, and is too mesmerized by the way he is so smoothly disappearing inside of you, all while you breathe heavily and buck your hips into his hand.
you feel your wrists become free. sore, but free. wooyoung then grabs something from the nightstand, and shuffles with it for a few moments. you hear light buzzing, and your heart jumps a little. fuck, he is doing everything just right. as if he entered your mind and stole all your wishes.
he brings it to your nipple, circling it just like his tongue is circling your clit. you are overwhelmed, struggling to keep still like he instructed.
"wooyoung-" you whine.
"i know, baby. feels so good, doesn't it?" he coos, sending shivers up your spine.
"yeah," you whine again, not quite capable of doing anything else.
"yeah," he hums. "you're doing a very good job, angel. hold on tight for me. don't let go just yet."
he is taking his sweet time, acting like this is only the beginning of a very long movie. you feel like cumming, and you don't want to do that just yet. you're having too much fun, and the buildup is much more pleasurable than the orgasm itself. at least you think so. his voice is soothing, low and raspy, and that alone is enough to make you feel like you came ten times already.
his tongue dives between your folds again, adding the third source of pleasure and shooting arrows to your core. you tremble under his passionate licks, thighs struggling to stay open. he hums into your clit, vibrations matching the ones on your nipple. he spins the gadget around your buds, slowly, then teases the areola again. you hear yourself become louder and louder, and he doesn't seem to mind. it's killing you that you can't see him. he must surely look gorgeous between your legs, working his tongue on you like it's his last feast.
his plush lips close around the tip of your clit, gently tugging it, tongue spinning it in slow circles just how you like it. but today, it all seems a little too slow. you are eager to see just how he will make you cum. maybe you can take two?
"how much longer?" you ask, feeling a bit stupid.
"oh, so much longer. i'm not letting go of you just yet."
the time is slow, and pleasure still bearable. you don't know how much longer you can hold. luckily, he pulls away from you, just in time. you feel his wet digits trail your bottom lip, as if asking permission to enter. you open your mouth, taking in the arousal that exists just for him. you taste yourself on his fingers, working your tongue around them so that you don't just lay completely useless. he hums, watching you swirl around them, and letting them go with a little suck at the end.
"i'm going to make you feel so good, princess. give you the best treatment you'll ever get."
you feel all fluttery and fidgety from his words. you could listen to him forever.
"come here."
you feel him sit behind you, back resting against the wall, and his hands pull you into his lap. your bare back rests against his built chest, and you can't help but hum at the sensation. he chuckles, loving every bit of reaction you have to give him.
"face reveal?" he reads a comment, and you become tense in his hands. "no."
the firm no has you grabbing his thighs, legs automatically spreading for him to continue abusing your clit and hole. his fingers move your hair out of the way of your chest, and gently tuck it behind your ears.
"so pretty." he coos again, leaving a kiss on top of your head.
you melt into his arms at his never ending praises, and you can't get enough. you wish to be called pretty all day long. you wish to be kissed like that for the rest of your life. you love how desired he makes you feel.
"are you real?" you mumble, lost in the soft vibrations that are circling your entrance.
he laughs, then kisses your shoulder. "very much, sweetheart."
"it feels too good. you feel too good."
"i know, baby. i know."
the gadget on your cunt is small, and still at a low speed. he uses his other hand to spread your folds, enough to start inserting the small vibrator inside. you yelp a little, the stretch wider than his fingers.
"easy," he whispers, "just like that..."
he fully inserts it, and you feel so full and in pain.
"i'm not going all the way, don't be afraid."
he pumps the toy in and out of you, enough to get you used to the new stretch. his other hand toys with your clit and tricks your brain into focusing on the pleasure rather than pain.
"wooyoung?"
"yes, love?"
"i thought you said you'd destroy me."
his movements stop. you bite your lip, trying to keep the smirk spreading on your lips. a gasp leaves your lips as his hand grabs your jaw, pulling your head back so that he can look at your face. he gets close, so close that your lips almost touch.
"is that what you want?"
his hot breath is so inviting, but when you reach to kiss him, he moves away, and grabs your jaw firmer.
"you want your tight little cunt to be destroyed? you want me to throw you around and use you like that toy you watched me fuck? you want me to fuck the feeling for the other guy out of you? so that you don't see nobody else but me? so that your pussy only fits on my cock? so that your body only responds to me?"
you are breathless as he spills all his intentions out, with each sentence sending goosebumps all over your body.
"that what you want? for me to fuck you dumb?"
"yes." you simply say.
you expected him to push you down on the bed. you expected him to pull your hair. you expected him to degrade you, spank you, and whatnot. but what you did not expect was the gentle tug of the blindfold, and a caress of your cheek as his grip on your jaw softened. you open your eyes, and meet his dark ones.
"are you sure?" he asks quietly.
"what?" you act dumb.
"you want me to...?"
"i want you to fuck me." you finally say it.
it seems like he has stopped breathing for a moment. he takes a few seconds to examine your face, looking for any signs of hesitation. when he sees none, he places the silk on your hands, tying them up and placing them in your lap.
"i meant what i said," he speaks to you and only you now, back turned towards the camera. "i am going to take a good care of you. remember your safety word?"
"mocha."
"good girl." he places a kiss on your forehead, then pushes you to lay down.
you watch him unbutton his pants, finally seeing more of that v-line you are suddenly very obsessed with. he throws them on the floor, along with the boxers, letting his cock free from the grip of the fabric. your jaw drops at the size. not enormous, but still too big for your virgin self. this is going to hurt like hell.
"can i suck you off?" you ask, subconsciously doing the big eyes thing he so much loves.
"are you sure? i wanted this to be about you."
"i'm sure." you say, eager to get a taste of him. "just, uh... guide me?"
"with pleasure."
he lays on the bed, elbow holding his upper body up as his other hand brings your face close to his cock. you didn't think it would look this clean and... pretty. you stick your tongue out, finally getting a taste of him. he hums, throwing his head back. you lick up from the base to the tip, immediately taking him in your mouth. he gasps, not expecting it so soon. he fills your mouth deliciously, resting against your tongue as his precum spills down your throat. he feels smooth, and very hot.
"god, so good," he groans, hand reaching for your hair to guide you up and down.
you bob your head up and down, too impatient to go slow like he did. you want to hear him more, knowing that you are the reason for those sounds and words.
"even your mouth is so tight, i might cum if you continue." he pulls your head away.
"you're so mean," you whine.
"i know," he coos for the third time today, knowing just what it does to you. "let me take care of you."
you try to lay down, but he holds you in place. you are confused. does he want to jump to some insane positions right away?
"missionary hurts. we will try something else. that good?"
you nod, and he sits against the wall again. he pulls you towards him, finally kissing you again. he showers you with soft kisses, and even though he promised whatnot, you are still experiencing a very soft and gentle version of him. you like it, but the thought of all the things he has listed for you is making your blood boil with excitement.
his hands cup your ass, raising your body and slowly bringing it towards his cock. you look down, noticing that a condom is already sitting on it. when did he manage to do that?
"slow," he whispers, guiding your hips so that you slowly start to sit on him, "just like that. good job."
you yelp at the uncomfortable stretch, and knowing that the pain is yet to come, you put your still tied hands around his neck and rest your head on his shoulder. inch by inch, he disappears inside of you, leaving no space empty. you feel so full and uncomfortable, your teeth sink into his shoulder to stop the loud moans of pain.
"hold onto me, love. it'll be better."
you forget the camera. you forget yunho. you forget san. you forget your feelings towards the other man. you will enjoy this, even if it was your last.
"can i move?"
"yes."
he keeps you close to him, lifting your hips slowly up and down. you hear the comment section flooding, and glance over at the laptop on the nightstand. each money donation makes a sound, and right now, there is tons of them. you enjoy all the praises written in the comments, talking about how well you are taking him, how obedient you are, and how innocent you look. you like it all a little too much.
wooyoung speeds up the pace, hips finally colliding with yours with a bigger force. you don't let go of his shoulder just yet, still focusing on the pleasure and trying to ignore the pain. he is a groaning mess, and little did you know that he has to use every ounce of self control in him to not just slam you on the bed and fuck you open for him. he grips your hips, sure to leave bruises afterwards, and keeps the same pace for a while.
"feeling okay?"
"yeah," you stutter between little gasps and moans.
"can i speed up?"
"yes, please."
the man finally lets himself loose, picking up your body by your waist and moving his own hips instead in a fast pace. your jaw drops, and your eyes roll back from the newfound point of pleasure. you are completely lost in his touch, scent and voice. he is grunting with each push, reaching deep inside of you and touching a particularly sensitive spot you didn't know you had.
"fuck, you're so wet." he hisses. “look how well you take me.”
having enough of the position, he finally throws you against the mattress, yet his gaze still has a hint of worry for you. when you smile, it's his sign to dive into your gardens again. the new position feels odd, and good in a new way. he reaches for a pillow, putting it under your hips for easier access, and finally fulfills his promise.
his hips dive into yours, colliding with force and awaking the orgasm inside of you. the pace isn't fast, it is just right. you have enough time to savour every delicious pump he delivers you.
"i want to cum so bad, please." you beg, feeling a bit overstimulated.
"just a little longer, hm?"
he speeds up the pace, grabbing your waist and practically slamming you against his cock, while his hips stay resting. you feel like that toy, being used like this. you can't help but develop a secret size kink, seeing how easily he is handling you and throwing your body around how he likes it. your eyes catch the gadget near him on the bed, and you grab it. his eyes are focused on the place you're connecting, admiring the view with scrunched eyebrows. he is so into it, that he doesn't even see you put the vibrating gadget on your clit. it is the sudden flood of comments again that makes him look away.
"chasing that orgasm like a thirsty little cumslut?"
you nod eagerly, focusing on the pool of pleasure threatening to spill over. a volcano waiting to erupt. a bottle of champagne waiting to pop.
"wooyoung-"
"go on, baby. i've tortured you enough."
you moan, grabbing his hand for support as you slowly reach the peak.
"cum on my cock like it's your last." he grunts.
it takes you over the edge. a river spilling over the highest cliffs, hitting hard against the pond and creating waves all the way to the shore. it is ripping through your body, and you swear you feel in in the ends of your hair and the tips of your toes. your back arches from the mattress, shaking as shock waves continue to exhaust your body. you are a moaning and whining mess, grabbing anything you can, from his arms and hair, to the mattress and pillows above your head.
"fuck, angel, i'm close too." he warns.
"use me," you whine, still in a hazy state. "use me like that fuck toy."
hearing you speak that way sends him over the edge too, fingers digging into the skin of your waist, and eyes rolling back as he moans and groans. his hips become sloppy, and you feel something warm spill inside of you. it takes a few more pumps for him to come down from his high, and when he is done, he lets himself fall on top of you.
he doesn't speak. doesn't move. just breathes and holds you in his embrace. you lay there for a while, trying to calm your breathing and come back to your senses. with a single tap on the keyboard, he shuts the live off, not even looking at it. he does it that often, he doesn't need to look.
his head finds peace in the space between your shoulder and neck, and his arms caress the place that is full of red marks from his hands. his breathing slows, and when you look down, you realize he has dozed off. you do too, holding him against your chest and replaying everything that just happened.
when you wake up, you see that the sky has gotten darker. you reach for the phone, checking the time so that you won't be late to your arrangement with yunho. but then, you see a notification just underneath the digits showing a young night.
a single message, with an attached screenshot of a very familiar room and familiar nude people.
yunho: i think i'm ready to let go. you've made it so much easier. goodbye.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
@minimoniac @miriamxsworld @kodzukein @woomyteez @mulletdaddyjayjo @bae4choi @haatohwa @marvelahsobx @jxhnnyfav
1K notes · View notes
kinopio-writes · 8 months
Note
Hello! Could you write platonic Dad!Adam headcanons? Thank you,
A/N: Lol. Don’t expect too much out of this guy because…it’s Adam. Heavily focused on him rather than the reader, sorry. Also, I might have gone a little overboard with this one because, uh, this was supposed to be only headcanons as you said, and the not-requested ‘drabble’ ended up being a few scenarios with a one-on-one convo with Adam and Sera at the end. 3rd POV and the reader is referred to as they/it, btw. Enjoy.
Holy sh!t I reread your request again and I don’t know if you meant that the reader is supposed to be the child or fuuuuuuuu—tell me if that’s not what you wanted, I had fun writing this nonetheless.
Words: 727 (not including the bullet points, edited)
Warnings: Very vulgar language, Sex is mentioned, Adam being Adam
———
How Adam would be as a Father (Reader is the child)
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• first things first, the only way I can see Adam become a dad was because he accidentally impregnated a chick when she fucking swore that, oh, no, Adam, I’m on birth control. Oh, don’t worry, Adam, you don’t have to finish in my mouth. Oh, no need, Adam, I’ve got it covered. Oh, it’s okay, Adam—yes, this is Adam mocking her
• so imagine his surprise when he found a fucking child at his doorstep crying like a little bitch
• “What the fuck?” was his first reaction
• he’d find a note that said something-something about oh who gives a fuck about her and her sob story about having to leave the child in his care?
• what mattered was—“THAT FUCKING BITCH LIED TO ME!”
• after that whole ordeal, he would sit in his gigantic ass living room, slumping on his couch with arms crossed and grumbling complaints as if he was the child
• the first few weeks he would really just let someone else take care of the kid
• Lute would be the caretaker most of the time since she’s around Adam a lot
• the problem was that she’s an exterminator
• her purpose was to kill sinners and she certainly didn’t have babysitting on her list of skills
• so eventually, the responsibilities would fall back on Adam
• of course, he had attempted to get in contact with the woman
• he came back with nothing
• wait, nothing? Holy shit, he left the baby—
• and, if you’re wondering, I don’t think Heaven has adoption centers or whatnot because everyone is responsible when they’re thinking of having a child
• but, hey, how hard would looking after a child would be?
• probably accidentally dropped the kid once before
• will get mad that he can’t do his guitar solos because they would start to cry even louder
• has probably nearly suffocated it by leaving a pillow in their crib
• doesn’t know how to hold it properly
• eventually got it right by observing some of Heaven’s residents
• thinks he’s the best dad because of it
• speaking of residents, they most likely don’t know that the first man has a child
• dude, you really think he’d be caught dead with a kid?
• nuh-uh
• sometimes forgets he has a kid
• have left it in his—I headcanon—condominium completely unattended sometimes
• so, uh, yeah…not looking good for Adam here
let’s get on with the scenarios, shall we?
———
Adam covered his ears with his silk pillows, trying to muffle the sounds of that brat’s whining.
“Ugh! Shut up, Shut up!” Of course, it didn’t shut up.
He banged his head on the pillow repeatedly, swearing he was going to fucking throw this fucking child off the fuCKING BALCONY IF IT DOESN’T SHUT UP—
He had enough and went over to the crib in the corner of his bedroom, snarling. “Y’know, since your mommy was such a quiet whore you’d expect the brat to act the same. She should’ve been honored that she even got my dick. Mine. And this is how she fucking repays me?” The child in question looked up at their father, their cries coming to an eventual stop as he rambled on and on. “Finally.”
The moment he left their sight, however, they started to cry once more.
“OH MY GOD—”
———
Adam arrived home tired as shit balls.
“Not fucking now, bitch,” he dismissed when they reached for him from their place in the crib as he flopped himself on his king-sized bed. At least it wasn’t crying. Rather, it was babbling and flailing its hands and feet. While it was a nice change, it was still annoying to listen to.
Eventually, he decided to shut it up and lazily dragged himself over to the crib, picking it up in his hands and setting it near his shoulder.
“Ugh, there there. Or whatever.” He idly patted the child’s back, plopping back on his bed.
Surprisingly, the kid soon fell asleep without further complaints, nuzzling into their father’s comfortable robe.
Ugh, rude. It fell asleep before he could bitch about his day as he usually did. Instead, he grumbled his own day to himself, his eyelids growing heavy as time passed by.
Adam later dozed off with the baby in his arms, snoring loudly as his wings wrapped around him and the child in his seldom peaceful slumber.
———
The living room was dark. Heaven’s natural light poured through his open windows and the TV played a movie that was most definitely not suited for young audiences. At least it wasn’t anything sexual. Heaven forbid.
In the midst of the oddly serene environment that is Adam’s residence, holy light flashed from beside his couch and the tall figure of Sera appeared. Adam instantly turned the TV off.
“Adam, pardon my intrusion. You still haven’t submitted your forms and they were due yesterday—” Sera interrupted herself when her eyes landed on the baby next to the first man.
“Sera, what gives? Can’t you see I’m busy? Where’s your sense of privacy? Jeez.”
“Adam, is that a child?” she asked rather accusatorily.
“Ugh, yeah, so what?”
“I didn’t think you would—where’s your wife?” She brushed her hair back behind her shoulder, her brows furrowed. “Um, I figured that after Lilith and Eve—”
“Pshh, you’d think this guy would settle down for anyone? Puh-lease. Imagine a world where you can’t fuck the original dick. Worse than any nightmare you could ever dream of.” Adam averted his gaze as his shoulders tensed up.
“So you care for this child alone? By yourself?” Sera looked more worried than ever, which Adam instantly latched on to.
“Are you doubting me? I started humankind—I know what I’m doing.” He settled his arms on the headrest, legs raising to rest on the coffee table as he gave a lazy shrug.
“How long have you kept this child?”
“What’s with all the questions? Uh, I dunno, more than two months, I guess?”
“What is its name?”
“Oh, uh…” Shit. He didn’t really think about that. He only kept calling it ‘kid’ or ‘brat’. “Adam Jr!” he blurted out the first thing that went through his mind. “Yeah, that’s right, everyone would immediately know that this kid is from me, Adam.”
Sera only narrowed her eyes. “Very well. I’m surprised you managed to keep this hidden from me. The child—”
“Adam Jr.”
“…Adam Jr. seems to be doing fine in your hands. But raising a child is no easy feat, Adam.” She took a deep breath in and closed her eyes momentarily. “We will have our discussion regarding your work tomorrow. Have a good night.”
As the seraphim was engulfed with holy light once more, vanishing as quickly as she came, Adam was left to think if the hassle was really worth this brat.
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thatgrlnany · 9 months
Note
Lol simon would send u some texts and then when u call him back this mf be like “talk to me, mama😊”
OMG YES THAT’S SO TRUE! I picture his texts smt like this:
“Mama answer the phone.” “Mama pick up.”
“Mama?”
And then when you eventually call him back, you hear faint rustling in the background and heavy breathing. “Simon?” A low groan and a “Talk to me mama, how was your day?”
You’re still suspicious but still proceed to yap about your day and whatnot. Soon enough you feel like your talking a bit too much for your liking, “Si? You still there?” you mumble softly waiting for a response but all you get is a moan in return. “Fuck, mama. Got me so damn hard. Need your tight fucking cunt around my fat cock.” And you whine, his voice sending shivers down your spine.
“Fuck mama, can’t wait to get home and fuck dumb.”
“Gonna fill you up so good with my load. You’ll have all my babies, won’t you, mama?”
“Gonna knock you up so good, mama.”
Let’s just say that was by far the most interesting sex call conversation you’ve had with him this month.
-Nany 🩷
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belokhvostikova · 7 months
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𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | With the seed planted, Operation Eddie Munson Must Die falls into plan, as—despite your dismay—a double date is secured with Winnie Ambrose, and Small-Town-Hottie Steve Harrington.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, tiniest mention of drugs, alcohol consumption, bits of arguing, insults, overall disrespectfulness, brief moment of a creep, mentions of past bullying, mentions of STDs, and explicit sexual content: oral (male receiving), cum eating, and protected vaginal sex.
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Apologies in advance, I found that as I wrote it just kept getting shittier, and shittier. So if it's bad, I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm doing. Also desperately wanting to make Reader the villain, and have Eddie end up with a girlfriend... who knows :) Big thanks to these lovely anons (you, you, and you) for the plotline suggestions!
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 16.2K
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 | One. Two.
𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.
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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨: 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐓𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲
“God, I told you- I told you just how much of an asshole he was!” The front door shut with a slam, as Winnie’s handbag went flying to the couch in an adrenaline rage. 
Your bottom plopped alongside the discarded purse, where you made the rash endeavor to release your ankles from the tight imprisonment of strappy heels that left your feet sore beyond repair. “C’mon, Winnie, I knew since the first time he left you crying that he was an asshole.” 
With your fingers attempting to mitigate the soles of your feet, your tired eyes had a hard time keeping up with Winnie’s rampant pacing, as the concoction of a martini plus Eddie Munson had her on a buzzing thrill. 
“And you!” Her finger projected to you, tight hands coming to clutch onto your shoulders. “You were incredible! Waving him off, and whatnot! Truly, if it was me, I would have been in his bed by now!” Winnie violently shook your shoulders. “God, he was so desperate, a-and crazy- god, Y/N, you made Eddie Munson crazy!”
“Oh, please, c’mon, Win, Eddie’s not stupid.” You shoved her hands off. “You even said he does this to every girl-”
“Not chase them!” Winnie urged. “For the love of God, he ran into traffic! Eddie Munson doesn’t chase, we chase- I, embarrassingly enough, chased him! That’s his whole game, but you- he went after you!”
You exhaustedly sighed, shoving your fingertips into the skin of your temple. No matter how enthusiastic Winnie’s words came out, your rationale merely vindicated his motives as nothing but self-indulgent and the furthest thing from interest. “Winnie, what kind of girl doesn’t swoon over a big, really stupid gesture? Like I said, Eddie isn’t stupid.”
With a pop, Winnie sunk to her knees, reaching eye level, as her’s unsettlingly burned into yours. “Y/N, believe me, I know Eddie more than you do,” but you knew his type more than she did, “he wanted you. Hell, he’s probably thinking about you right now!”
“Oh, fuck, baby, feels so fucking good, pussy feels so fucking good.” Eddie Munson clinched his eyes closed, as his hips punctured each thrust with a sticky slap of wet skin. 
“Mm! Eddie! Please, don’t stop, ple-”
“Sh! Don’t talk, don’t fucking talk.” His voice grunted, as his heavy hand muffled Santina Rodrigo’s whines into the pillows of his bed. “Just let me fuck you- fuck this pretty pussy until you can’t speak.” The words rolled off his tongue like a studied script. 
If you weren’t going to be in his bed tonight, someone else surely was.
His thrust became harsher. Bumping into the ripple of her ass, as her back curved to the gluttony of her body that just wanted more, and more. Pounding breaths were ripping through his flared nostrils, with pellets of salty sweat bleeding into his mouth, as a firm bite to his lip kept his moans at bay. 
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby. Eddie, I’m gonna-”
“Cream on my fucking cock, show me how good I’m fucking you. Scream it, sweetheart.” His stomach cramped with each fervent squelch of his dick ramming into her cunt.
You blinked. “You really think he’s thinking about me?” A shy smile unwarrantedly invaded your face. 
Winnie jumped with joy. “Yes! He totally is!” She squealed. “But don’t you dare let that get to your head.” Her hand suddenly came in contact with your forehead. 
“Ow!”
“That’s like strapping steak on your chest, and going into the lion’s den. If you’re not ready to fully face the charming wrath of Eddie Munson, you need to tell me now!” Christ, that accusatory finger was degrading you again with its vicious point. “Okay, you can’t fall for his shit!”
“I- no, n-no, I’m ready, like, so, totally ready.” Your face became stern under her glare. “Yeah, um, very much ready.” Your voice quieted. 
“Remember Y/N, it’s guys like Eddie that get girls to think they’re so datable.” Her eyes dragged to the back of her head. “Okay, all this ‘oh, you’re so special, I’m obsessed with you, I’d do anything for you’ is a little bullshit game that gets girls to fawn over him.” She mocked with such a guttural voice. 
“Fuck, you’re so perfect! Perfect just for me! Cum, baby, cum all over my fucking cock.” Eddie’s voice cracked through gritted teeth, as his hands painfully molded to the fat of her ass, squeezing until her skin was tender. 
“Yeah, baby? Fuck, I’m cumming! I’m- aughhh!” Santina mewled into the rumpled sheets that soaked with her perspiration. 
Eddie didn’t give her a minute to spare, as her scalp suddenly burned with the brutal grip of her hair in his hand. Her body nearly collapsed, as she trudged through the attempt of supporting herself on trembling legs, when Eddie forced her face to his body. The stretching of rubber slapped off his cock, as he haphazardly discarded the condom onto the expanse of the bedroom floor. 
“C’mon, baby, open up, lemme cum down that fucking throat.” Her head could barely confirm his request with a nod, before Eddie shoved his length down her airway, with a thick gag to harshly pair with his deep groans. 
Spit slung down the curve of her chin, doubling the stains that had previously bled themselves into his dirty sheets from a week of late night endeavors catered to different women, but always ended the same. 
And Santina Rodrigo was no fool, she was fully capable of grasping the reality of Eddie Munson. 
Which is why this night would end differently. 
“Yeah, I know, which is totally why this date isn’t happening.” You proclaimed. 
But Winnie Ambrose has other plans. “Oh, no, it totally is.”
“What?” You jumped from the couch. “What happened to the, y’know, ‘Eddie wants what he can’t have,’ going on a date with him is giving him exactly what he can’t have?”
Winnie sighed, a shake of disappointment came with the sympathetic look she burdened you with. “Oh, you poor, innocent thing.” Her manicured hand patronizingly caressed your head with pets. “Y/N…” her breath deepened, “…this is all a part of the plan!” She exclaimed. “Remember, you give and you take. Leading Eddie on will only grow his feelings, but never fully giving in will leave him wanting more! This is the basic principle of dating!”
“I don’t like this kind of dating.” 
“Well, it’s what’s gonna work! We have to take him down!” Her hands harshly dug into your shoulders, bulging eyes of crazy staring into your soul. “And we will not back down! Say it with me! We will not back down!”
“Our neighbors are going to think we’re crazy, Winnie.”
“C’mon!” She incited you. “We will not back down! Eddie Munson will come down!” Winnie Ambrose truly had to be drill sergeant in her past life. “We will not back down! Eddie Munson will come down-”
“-Your throat. F-Fuck, gonna cum down your throat. Just keep gaggin’ on my cock, baby.” Eddie held a tight grip to Santina’s head, her hair now in an irreparable state of dishevelment from his unyielding grip that gave him the leverage to pummel his cock down her constricting throat. 
With his balls tensing under the thick globs of spit that squelched his cock towards that buzzing bliss, Eddie suffocated Santina’s nose with the curls of his pubes, as his heavy grunts announced his orgasm, with streams of salty spurts invading her mouth. 
“Mm, fuck, yeah, better swallow that shit down, fuck.” He slowed his movements, until his cock pulled from between her raw lips, as her tongue lapped up the strings of saliva that clung to his dick. 
And here it came. Like clockwork.
“You okay, baby?” A caressing hand; pivotal for the illusion of caring. With his thumb gently stroking the breadth of her cheek, softly swiping the remanments of a blowjob from her lips, Santina Rodrigo melted into his touch. Next, words of affirmation. “Did so good for me, baby. Fuck, that was incredible.” Eddie Munson smiled. “Was that okay for you? Not too hard? You can tell me, sweetheart, want you comfortable, beautiful.” Something to flutter the heart, every person likes being cared for. And with a tired mouth too exhausted to confirm her contentment, Eddie went in for the kill. As Santina peered up at him with the roundest eyes to appeal to him, Eddie cemented this act of love with an intimate kiss on her gleaming forehead. 
It was quite profound, actually. 
Something about his large build hovering over, so easily chalked up to the roughness of man actually being vulnerable enough to express affection. It would have any girl swooning. 
Eddie Munson knew that, but more importantly, Santina Rodrigo knew that. 
So, as his back laid against the cushion of his pillows, his fingers reached for a cigarette to ease his mind of the inevitable downpour of cries that were about to be spewed his way. But the sudden movement beside him had his eyes connecting with hers, Santina. “Listen, sweetheart-”
“I’m off work Saturday.” With his sheets covering her once exposed breasts, she sat with her head held high, eyes unfaltering. 
“I-”
“I understand you put on the theatrics for your gain, but I don’t want it, unless you mean it.” Santina smiled. “Really mean it.” 
Eddie’s brows cinched to the center of his forehead, where his mind blanked at the unheard of bluntness from his—what was supposed to be—one night stand. “What are you getting at here, sweetheart?”
“I want a date on Saturday.” She asserted. “C’mon, you really think I would just let you fuck me, and move one?” Eddie’s face twisted with the laughter that smacked his face. “Grow up, Eddie. This act can’t last you forever.”
His thoughts were invaded with the tumultuous mix of unwanted astonishment that—as much as it pissed him off—sparked a little curiosity in his dazed mind. A laugh scoffed past his lips. “A date? Okay.” If it meant another easy fuck, who was he to give that up over a simple date. 
“And no bullshit, Eddie.” Santina affirmed. “If I’m going to be allowing you to fuck me, it’s just going to be me.”
Eddie laughed. “Hold on now, baby, this,” his finger maneuvered against the space between them, “has only been a one night thing, you can’t, um, you can’t expect me to just stick to one pretty girl, now, c’mon, sweetheart.” He proffered a sly smirk that had her rolling her eyes. 
“None of which will be as good as me.” Her confident stature had Eddie sucking in breath through his teeth-bitten lips. “And you’ll realize that quite quickly, but far too late for me to ever care for. So, Eddie, I suggest you clean yourself up nicely for this date. I don’t like anything cheap.” Stunned, he watched her naked body emerge from his sheets, as she quietly gathered her clothes. Her hand found itself wrapped around Eddie’s chin, nails digging into his skin to keep him face-to-face. “If I were you, I’d reconsider this whole ‘noncommittal’ act you like to screw girls over with.” She smiled, soft breaths against his lips. “I’m different Eddie, and you’re going to respect that. Goodbye.” Santina brandished her lip gloss to his lips with a wet kiss, before her heels clicked their way out of his apartment. 
Eddie Munson blinked, screwing his eyes closed, as he scoffed in disbelief. “What the fuck?” 
“Alright, alright, we’ll take Eddie Munson down.” You shoved your hand over Winnie’s mouth to quiet her voice, only for her muffled squeals of excitement to bleed through. 
“Okay, okay!” She jumped with adrenaline, a bright smile to pair. “We have to be methodical, Y/N. Simply going on the date with Eddie isn’t going to cut it. We have to make sure you’re the only one dating Eddie. He’s never gonna take this seriously, if he’s still seeing other women. We have to cut off the source.”
“The source?”
“The source that makes Eddie Munson so dateable!” She huffed so obviously. “We have to make Eddie undateable.”
“Right, make the tall guy with nice hair, who plays lead guitar of his own band, and just so happens to be known as the man who can make any girl finish undateable. Yeah, that seems totally plausible.” You deadpanned.
Winnie Ambrose sighed. “When will you learn to never underestimate me?”
Next day by brunch, on a sunny Sunday afternoon, Winnie found herself sipping on one too many mimosas, and with the boredom of her lonesome company and the once baby blue polish that was mindlessly chipped to nothing, her endeavors brought her the social setting of Marie Ann’s Nail and Spa. “He gave you what now?!” Suddenly, the nail tech was hesitant to touch Winnie’s fingers.
“Mhm.” Winnie solemnly nodded, as the other women amongst her gasped. “At first, I thought it was just regular discharge, but then it just got worse, and worse!” She dramatically exclaimed. “And then suddenly, I was in pain, it hurt to pee, and I was getting these awful fevers.” Her acting twisted the faces of the fellow patrons to concern. “So, I did what any girl would do, and I went to the doctor, and what do you know it: the clap!”
“And Eddie Munson gave it to you?” Shirley Brinkle, with her toes soaking in the warm water of her chair, massage setting on, interrogated with her manicured hand clutching her necklace. 
“Yup! I mean, he was the only one I’ve ever been with.” Quite the act. “And it checks out, y’know, with all the girls he’s been with, and whatnot.” Winnie fought to hold back a smile, as the ladies around her nodded in agreement. “So, I’m warning you. Do not get with Eddie Munson. He’s, like, a total walking biohazard.”
And it had worked… for some time. With how notorious the playboy had been, word spread quickly through groups of girlfriends who once gossiped about the sheer size of his cock, now having hushed conversations to stay clear of said cock. So, that evening, when Eddie had found himself in flirtations with the lady at the gym, who just looked too good in her gymwear to pass up, his confidence faltered at her sudden departure, when her friend stared him in his eyes, and whispered to her friends. Like, so motion, Eddie heard the quiet word slip from her mouth, “gonorrhea.” Panic.
But rule number one in warfare: never underestimate your opponent.
That Monday to come, Winnie dragged herself through the streets of Indianapolis to clock in her hours at work, though when passing the empty bar that saw its busiest attendance on the particular Saturday nights Corroded Coffin would perform, her body halted. Retaking her steps back, her sunglasses raised, eyes squinting to see if she was really seeing what she was seeing.
Posted on the window, “END THE STIGMA: Let’s talk about gonorrhea.” Eddie and his stupid face plastered on a poster was enough to make Winnie scoff. “Saturday night STD fundraiser! Live show included, here at The Albatross!”
“That conniving, little bitch!” And, of course…
“While an advocate, I, Eddie Munson, do not have gonorrhea or any sexually transmitted diseases.”
And just to rub some salt into the wound, “So sweet, isn’t he?” A stranger—a pretty one at it, too—voiced her admiration to Winnie, as they gazed upon the poster. “He’s, like, the only guy I know who would care about a cause.” 
Damn it, the bar was in hell.
But while Eddie Munson may have gotten the upper hand in this round, he and his confidence in his system of juggling girls could not anticipate the events of Black Tuesday.
-
On Tuesdays like such, customers found little time to meander in the relaxation of the coffeehouse, as midweek work obligations called for the swift in-and-out transaction. 
You quite like Tuesdays like such. 
When little visitors frequented, your boss would tune up the small radio that allowed soft music to linger about, where it once would be drowned under the cacophony of shouting patrons, who took to vividly expressing their lives in conversations.
Spurt. Spurt. You hummed to the voice of Billy Joel, as the fragranced cleaner invaded your noise with lemony pinewood, providing that sleek gloss to the wooden table tops, as your damp rag smeared across the perimeter. Too ingrained with mimicking the tunes of “Vienna,” you hadn’t paid much mind to the chime of the door bell, simply throwing out the usual, “I’ll be with you in a minute,” as you continued the task of swiping away leftover crumbs of pastries that accompanied the light splatters of spilled coffee. 
But turning on your feet to reach the register fell short, when you were suddenly face-to-face with Eddie Munson. “You’re quite hard to get a hold of… Y/N.” Ever so slightly, the sardonic tone of his voice curled his lips upward. 
With a lump caught in your throat, you made the rash decision to merely walk away to the counter, screwing your eyes shut at the sound of following footsteps that stomped behind you. You cleared your throat. “What can I get you?” 
“A date.” He nonchalantly nodded. “As you agreed.” 
“Uh, no, I di-”
“Y’know, after asking you out, I came by Sunday to make plans for our date.” He interjected, as your eyebrows shot into the creases of your forehead. 
“Didn’t work Sunday.” You blunted provided.
Eddie hissed, shaking his head. “Yeah, much to my disappointment.” His hand came up scratching the shavened skin of his cheek. “Though, also kinda lucky.” He laughed off, leaning in close. “Had some mess to deal with, all fixed now, so if you hear otherwise, it’s a lie.”
Oh, Winnie.
You suppressed the bulging of your eyes, and waved off his attempt at a conversation. “What do you want, Eddie?”
“I already told you: my date.” 
“Can’t. Busy.” You turned your back to wipe off the counters that you had already cleaned before his arrival, though luckily, he didn’t know that. 
“Alright, so I’ll accommodate. When do you get off?” With his forearms against the counter, his biceps bulged against his constricting arm sleeves, and maybe, just maybe, Eddie tensed his arms to let those veins pop, as you faced him again.
Annoyance was beginning to bubble in your chest. With what few customers did visit, all seemed to have a stick up their ass with their disrespectful attitude towards you, and you weren’t exactly keen to play into Eddie’s games. “Look, you forcing me to say yes to date, because you did something absolutely stupid is not me actually wanting you, okay? So, unless you’re going to order something, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”
Eddie propped to his extended height. “Hey, alright, look, you’re right, I’m sorry.” His ringed hands landed on his chest. “That was real stupid of me, but I meant what I said Saturday, I do have this funny, little feeling that you’re special, so can you really blame a guy?” You wanted to slap that smile off his face. You probably wouldn’t even be able to count how many times that one liner was used on other women, and your face showed it with the scowl that took over. “Alright, so you can blame me.” He laughed. 
“Get out.”
“Hey, no, I’d like a latte, please. My usual, c’mon, Y/N, you know my usual.” Ugh, you did know his usual. 
“It’ll be $5.” 
A scoff chuckled out from his mouth. “What? It’s usually $3.10.”
“Not today.” 
Eddie laughed in disbelief, as he reached for his wallet, slapping two $5 bills onto the counter, and sliding them over. “The extra five is for you, feeling generous.” He cockily shrugged. Degrading and patronizing? To hell with it, you were a service worker, of course, you took the tip. You once again turned, given another distraction of actually concocting his order to find reason not to entertain him. “Think the universe is in my favor, no? Came in Sunday, you weren’t here. Came in Monday… you weren’t here. Why was that anyway?”
“Had class. Got the night shift.” 
“Ah, so you go to university. See, look at us, we could be getting to know each other just like this, but on a date.” You despised the soft laughter that echoed through your nose, something Eddie surely had picked up on with the large smile that took over his face. “But then y’know what? Came in on this fine Tuesday, and what d'ya know? Third times a charm, here you are.” 
“Unfortunately.”
Eddie laughed. “Oh, you’re funny.” Oh, Christ, you were smiling. Thank god your back was turned. “You like the movies, got a favorite film.”
“Hate them, actually.”
“Alright, well, what about dinner?” Eddie proffered. “Got a nice restaurant in mind, could order you some nice steak, ooh, the lobster is always incredible. 
“Don’t eat meat. It’s disgusting.” You lied.
Eddie rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Y/N, sweetheart, you gotta work with me here.”
“I quite literally don’t.” You slid over the plastic cup of coffee. Winnie would be so proud of you. 
“Ooh,” he hissed, “I actually wanted this for here.” Eddie matched your movement, sliding back the latte, as his eyes never left yours. 
You sighed, shrugging your shoulders to match his considerably cool apathy, when in reality you were ready to hurl your guts over the mortifying experience of having to talk to a guy like him. “Well, you should have specified that. Too late now.” You shoved the cup back. 
Eddie smiled that sickly grin, leaning in close enough to have you cowering below him. But your eyes stayed staunch to the confidence you were trying to exude, never forfeiting the staring contest he forced you into. “C’mon, just tell me what I gotta do to get you on a little date with me. What’s it gonna take?” His head tilted with that devious smirk. 
“Well, maybe…” you sincerely sighed, “...if you would just leave.” You round eyes peered up at him.
A guttural laugh bubbled in his chest, as he blushed down with a suppressed smile. “I’m being serious.”
“And who says I’m not?” You smiled back. 
“Alright, look, it’ll all be on your terms. Your wish is my command. Anything you want.” Eddie laid his cards out flat on the table. 
You swallowed thickly, regulating yourself through the heavy breathing of a long sigh that escaped from you. Realistically, being one-on-one with someone like Eddie was a set up for disaster. As embarrassing as it is to admit, you’d only survive this far with the words of Winnie Ambrose playing into your ear, coaching you through the complexity that is Eddie Munson. You give and you take, and so far, the easiest thing was taking away, and even that had your stomach twisting with the gruesomeness of anxiety that left your mind on overdrive with intrusive thoughts. 
What did Eddie Munson think of you? How much of an embarrassment would you make out of yourself suddenly falling into his trap? No, you were better than that. This wasn’t going to be another Dalton Barron moment- ugh, Christ, you don’t even want to think about him. Okay, so you learned from your mistake, it won’t happen again, just don’t trust Eddie Munson. Yeah, don’t trust Eddie Munson. Surely, anyone would agree with you on that one. But what if not trusting him puts him off? What if that’s what drives him away, and Winnie’s plan ultimately fails, because of yo-
“C’mon, Y/N, I think you’re gettin’ a little too into your head here.” He swayed in his stance. Your face frowned, clearly not appreciative of how easily he read that. 
“I don’t- I just don’t want to go on a date with you.” You softly answered, watching his head drop in defeat. “At least, not alone.” He slowly peered back up in interest. 
Eddie nodded to your suggestion. Was it ideal? Definitely not, it’d be quite difficult making the moves on you with people around. But if it meant getting you out with him… “I got a friend.” His fingers snapped at the sudden revelation that hit him. 
“A friend?”
“Yup.” His lips popped with emphasis. “Pretty good looking guy, y’know, nice hair n’ all. Family’s loaded, too, he’s working at the law firm his dad owns back in my hometown.”
“You’re not from here?” You questioned.
Eddie smiled. “See, you’re totally interested in gettin’ to know me.” He teased an eye roll out of you. “But, no, to answer your question, I’m not. Hawkins, in fact. Pretty small town about forty minutes out north west from Indy. A little shitty- well, actually, a lot shitty,” Eddie chuckled, “but it’s quiet at night, which I’ve always liked. So, if it’ll make you a bit more comfortable,” he leaned over, “why don’t you and that roommate of yours come out to Hawkins to hang out with me and my buddy.”
Your eyes softened at the request, as your heartbeat slowly dissipated to the calm rhythm it once was pumping at, before Eddie ruined that for you. “You- you’d be okay with Winnie coming?”
“No.” He laughed. “In fact, I think bringing an old hookup—who just so happens to hate my guts—to a double date sounds absolutely miserable, but I’m willing to be miserable if it means getting to be with you.” No salacious smirk this time, spoken matter-a-factly even, which somehow felt more unsettling. “Hopefully Steve can entertain your friend enough for me.” Eddie shrugged. 
“Steve?”
“Harrington.” He finished off for you. “Quite the ladies man, in fact, so I’m sure he’ll have no problem agreeing to this.” Then, Eddie whispered close. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t steal you off of me.” He winked, before grabbing his drink to take a couple steps back. “You get off by, I don’t know, five?” You couldn’t even fathom words at the moment, only meeting him with a small nod that mindlessly controlled itself. “Perfect, then let’s say about eight. Real casual, nothing too crazy. The Hideout, it’s a little bar. In Hawkins. My treat.” He smiled. “Have a nice day… Y/N.”
Eddie Munson had become quite obsessed with saying your name. 
-
“Steve Harrington? Sounds like some boy-next-door sitcom name.” Winnie laughed, as her mouth crunched down on the handful of chips that stuffed themselves down her mouth. 
“Eddie said he was really good looking, though.” You sat by her propped feet on the coffee table. “And- and, he’s in the whole lawyer business thing.” You offered. 
“He’s a lawyer?” Winnie’s interest piqued at the sudden monetary value of Steve Harrington. 
“Well, Eddie said he worked at a law firm, not entirely sure what he does, but you could totally find out if you go, please, pretty please.” You begged. “Don’t let me go by myself, you know I won’t be able to handle it, I’ll probably panic and say something stupid, and this whole plan will come crashing-”
“Okay, okay.” Winnie gave in, folding over the plastic of her chip bag, as she rid herself the crumbs that stuck around her mouth. “You know what? You’re right, we have to get this date going.” She urgently stood. “We have to go all out. What are we thinking? Skirt? Maybe a dress? Ooh, I’ve been meaning to bust out my new Vivienne Westwoods-”
“Wait, no, Eddie said this was supposed to be casual.” You stopped her. “Just some bar, I think by the sounds of it, in his hometown.”
“Eddie’s bringing you to his hometown?!” Winnie halted, face contorting into the dozen creases of dumbfoundedness. “What the hell?! The first time I got with him, I asked for his last name, and he told me not to push it. Had to hear it from some other girl he was screwing. Holy shit, Eddie Munson’s whipped for you!”
“What? N-No, he’s not.” You tried appeasing her shock. “It’s just like a convenience thing, y’know? For his friend, I assume.”
Winnie laughed in disbelief, shaking her head to dispute your claims. “Oh, this plan is so going to work!” She cheered. “C’mon, we have a first date to ruin!”
By 5:45 P.M, your bathroom steamed with the hotness of condensation, as the aromas of scented body washes and lotions clung to your body. Unlike the preparations of Saturday night, ‘dressing casually’ proved difficult for Winnie, who opted to rummage through your closet. “Ugh, don’t you have anything lacey?”
“Is lacey really casual?” You wondered, as you hopped into your shorts with a shimmy to get them from around your ass.
“It is to me.” Winnie whined, flinging articles of clothing you knew she’d never clean up. 
“What about my maxi skirt right there?” You proffered.
Winnie examined the layered sheer material. It was a sage green. She quite liked green with her auburn hair. “It’s not too hot for this?” She hesitantly questioned.
“Totally not! Enough flow for some airway.” You sold. “Plus, pretty easy to slip off for Mr. Lawyer.” You teased, at least something funny enough to get her to smile.
“Oh, I shouldn’t- well…” You laughed at her contemplation, as you both fell comfortably in the pile of clothes in your disorganized bedroom. “Maybe if he’s, like, really hot. Like, River Phoenix hot. Ooh, that means I should definitely wear my push-up bra, wherever the hell it went.” You dug for a thin sweater to throw on. “No, but wait, would that make a slut?” You laughed at her question. “Like, royal slut for sleeping with two friends?
“Who cares, Win. Have your fun.” You offered in return, watching her shoulders relax. “Eddie’s doing it, anyway. Why can’t you?”
Winnie gasped. “You would sleep with Eddie Munson?!”
Your mouth fell open. “W-What? No, I didn’t say that, like, a-at all. I just- I meant dating.”
“Okay, but would you?” Winnie teased, poking at your belly to rile you up.
Your mind blanked, mouth falling dry through your stutters. “N-No, I don’t even like him like that. You- it’s you making me do this, remember?” You defended. “I wouldn’t have even talked to him if it wasn’t for this idea.” It’d be best if Winnie Ambrose never learned the identity of your mysterious coffeehouse crush that was discovered to be Eddie Munson. Even then, all those barely there, absolutely not deep, totally juvenile feelings vanished when learned that not only had he been sleeping with your best friend, but apparently all of Indianapolis. 
“Well,” Winnie sighed, trusting your word, “you’re stronger than most. Which honestly, is the only thing keeping this plan working, because let’s be honest here, Eddie is going to try to sleep with you sooner or later.” Your stomach churned. “But, remember we can’t let that happen. Best way to go about it is to be, y’know, calm and collected. Brush him off effortlessly.”
“Okay, calm and collected. Like I don’t care. Just be indifferent.” You detail your understanding. 
“Exactly, but don’t totally wave him off! The only thing reeling him in is your slight interest.” You felt like your head was about to explode. “So, just take notes and remember to be caring and passionate. He’s gotta know you’re feeling something, y’know?” No, you don’t know. “But then,” oh, Christ, “you gotta learn when to hit back, okay? Eddie’s an asshole. You know that, I know that, everyone knows that. And that filthy mouth of his is bound to say something gross to get a reaction out of you. So, stand your ground, be proud and aggressive. He’ll easily walk all over you if you’re meek.”
“Okay, well, I rejected him, now I’m going on a date with him, so he thinks I’m “interested,” I just don’t know what to do next.” You frowned in frustration. “This is all a lot, y’know?”
“C’mon, you’ve dated before-”
“Yeah. Though, it was only one, singular, y’know… Dalton.” You groaned, pressing the heels of your palms into your eye sockets to suppress the memories that were trying to hash out that anger for the closure you never got. 
“Exactly!” Winnie snapped with emphasis. “You’ve been down this road before, you know what to expect. And people like Eddie and Dalton need to pay up for what they’ve done! So, don’t strike yourself out, we are women! We are feminists! This is for feminism!”
You huffed out a sardonic chuckle. “I don’t think that’s what feminism means, Winnie.”
“Okay, well, we’re both young women, who are hot as shit, and are not going to let some gross dudes ruin us!” She declared. “So, when you go on this date, you play it aloof. Don’t give him everything, but give him enough.”
“Like what?”
“Like, if he compliments you, don’t shy away, you take it!” She explained. “Oh, and the three seconds rule! You wait three seconds to answer him when you’re talking.”
“Doesn’t that seem a little redundant?” You brows cinched in question. 
“No, it totally works for me!” She protested.
“Winnie,” you sympathetically sighed, “you don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Ugh, look, if I wanted to keep them around, I would, because that three seconds rule works! Makes me look cool, Y/N.” Winnie sassed in protest. Before you could retaliate a teasing comment to her skewed views of dating, a knock at the front door had cut your conversation short. “I’ll get it.” Winnie huffed, throwing your maxi skirt in the mountaining pile of clothes, before heading out. While you could, your shirt had shimmied itself off your body to find comfort in a sweater that would suffice for the whole ‘I don’t care’ look you hoped to exude with this forced upon date. Suddenly, Winnie’s feet could be heard shuffling as quickly as possible back to your room. “Fucking flowers?!”
“What?” You questioned, as you fixed your hair from the mess that de-clothing caused. 
In the crinkle of brown tissue paper and twine, a dozen stems of pastel tulips stood lively in Winnie’s hands. “He went full Netherlands on you!”
“Eddie?!” Your brows jumped in perplexion. 
Winnie scoffed in disbelief. “Who else would be E. Munson?!” She pulled out the small envelope that propped itself within the tangle of flowers. You stood from the floor, grabbing the pretty bouquet, as Winnie shuffled to slide the card from the paper encasing. “Ugh, ugh,” she cleared her throat. “To ease your mind, something as pretty as you, Y/N. Let me do things properly, give me a call to pick you up: three, one, seven, blah, blah, blah. Gag.” Winnie rolled her eyes. “Sending you flowers, while taking you to some dingy bar, how chivalrous.” 
“W-Wait a minute,” you snatched the card from her hand, “what? Am I supposed to ride with him now?” Your finger skimmed over the felt-tip pen that bled Eddie’s number to the cardstock of the note.
“No.” Winnie snatched the card, ripping it in half.
“Uh- Winnie! This was actually a little sweet, c’mon.”
“Remember, we’re playing this cool!” She urged. “You already agreed to this date, you can’t feed him more. You’re not accepting any of this- well, keep the flowers, they’d look quite nice on our mantel. But don’t call him, okay? We can drive ourselves. And, like, what the hell? Did he just expect me to tow behind? He, like, totally didn’t think of me at all.” Your brow slowly lifted at her. “Alright, alright, I’ll shut up about myself.”
-
Through the static voices of Skid Row over the radio, you turned about the creased map every which way, trying to read the barely eligible highways with their too tiny of a font names. “Oh, okay, it’s Exit 13A.”
“How far away is it?” Winnie held the steering wheel under a tight grip.
“Um,” you peered up. “it’s right there! Winnie, right lane! Go to the-”
“I’m trying! This slow bastard isn’t moving!” She screamed.
You reached over the console. “Your blinkers!” A quick flip to the handle clicked on the indicators. “They won’t know unless your blinkers are on!”
Meanwhile, Eddie’s foot had anxiously tapped to the ticks of the clock, as his thumb nail was facing the repercussion of his nervous gnawing. 
Where the hell were you? It was nearing a quarter to eight, and your expected phone call hadn’t come by. No bounce of his knee, no hand through his hair, no pacing around could ease the nerves that pissed him off, because he so ardently waited for your call. He stood from his couch, quickly making his way to the phone, but no matter how desperate that itch was telling him to call instead, it all fell into a lost cause, as Eddie didn’t know your number. Eddie didn't know Winnie’s number. Hell, Eddie didn’t know any woman’s number. They called. Not him. Never him. Well, he could go over to your apartment- no, that was on another level of desperation that Eddie felt was too pathetic to ever let his pride commit to. 
“Augh,” he groaned in annoyance, as those anxious nerves were beginning to be taken over by anger. “What a bitc- mm.” He restrained himself with a gruff. “What am I- what am I doing waiting around? Fuck this, I’ll get someone else.” Eddie raged under his breath, as he snatched his jacket, and stomped his way out of the apartment. 
Your eyes followed along the passing trees, as the prussian blue of nighttime was beginning to feed into the amber glow of the leaving sunset. Hawkins had been nothing but a straight highway of nonbeing, as Eddie’s words came into existence: it was quiet at night. Rocks skipped under the fast turning wheels of the car, as you approached the faded sign welcoming you into the solitude of Hawkins, Indiana. When rows of woodlands finally ended, you were met with the expanse of cornfields. 
“So…” Winnie dragged out. “How exactly are we supposed to find this bar?” She questioned, as her eyes fell on the long road ahead. “Maybe we should have taken up Eddie’s offer.” You shot her a look of disbelief. “Okay, I’m kidding, I’m kidding, but seriously.”
“Eddie said it was a small town, so I’m sure it won’t take too long. Just look out for bar, preferably with any sign at says ‘The Hideout.’” 
“The Hideout… The Hideout.” She ticked, as she drove wherever the roads guided her. 
Through the unintentional exploration of the suburbs and downtown areas, your destination was found through the environs north front of abandoned diners, lonesome laundromats, and a dilapidated trailer park where rusted car parts littered the dead grass against man made driveways. 
The neon sign buzzed through its draining power. “Some first date.” Winnie groaned, taking in the foundation of stained bricks. 
You shrugged with the bit of optimism you were clawing to hold on to. “M-Maybe it’s quaint.”
“Yeah, for a bunch of hillbilly, old dudes with beer bellies.” She grouched, as her legs dragged her out of the car. You swiftly followed, choosing to subtly cower behind her, as you both loitered the makeshift parking lot of what was just tire tracks and haphazard parking. “These guys better be here already.” Winnie rolled her eyes. Nothing but the running engine of a burgundy Bimmer buzzed through the chilled atmosphere.
And it hadn’t been until the engine was keyed off, with a figure slamming the door shut, that it finally caught your attention. “Hey, hey, wait, you think that’s Steve?” Your hand repeatedly smacked against Winnie’s arms.
Winnie squinted her eyes through the dark. Well, he did have the hair. Great hair, in fact. Totally walked like he could be some wannabe lawyer, especially with the white button-up he adorned; too fancy for a place like such. Could definitely see him being casted as the boy-next-door. And woah, was he pretty. Like, ridiculously pretty. “It better be Steve, fuck me.” Her glossed lips fell open. 
“O-Okay, so, we just, like, ask him-”
“Ayo, Steve!” Winnie’s deepened voice boomed to the likeness of a man, before harshly turning around to avoid being caught. 
“Oh, my god.” You quietly sighed to yourself in embarrassment, as Winnie’s efforts clearly fell short of subtlety, and the now identified Steve Harrington was looking right over. 
Winnie stood stiff, as if to appear invisible. “Well, did he look up?” 
“Yes, he looked up.” You deadpanned. “And right at us, in fact, because that was awful.” An incredulous chuckle scoffed out of you. 
“Aw, great, he probably thinks I sound like a chain smoker now.” She groaned, as you both awkwardly shuffled to his direction. 
He proffered such a boyish smile with a small wave to greet you both, before his arms crossed over his chest, hands tucking under his armpits. “Hey, uh, sorry, this is a bit confusing, you’re here to hang out with Ed and I?” He questioned with a small smile.
“Yeah, yeah.” You softly answered. “I’m Y/N.” You introduced yourself. 
Steve flashed you a warm smile, before pointing a curious finger beside you. “Ah, so you’re mine tonight?” He asked for clarification to Winnie, who blushed under his suaveness. 
“Oh, yeah, I’ll be yours any night.” She mindlessly responded, luckily rifting that first-meet-up awkward tension that now dissipated into sincere laughter.   
“Alright then,” Steve’s cheeks plumped under his growing smile. “Wendy, right?”
Winnie rolled her eyes. “That bastard, it’s Winnie.” She beamed.
“Winnie, got it, I apologize.” Steve offered, as she shyly waved him off, truly enamored through her school girl-like crush. “Well, uh, like I was saying, I am a bit confused, ‘cause Eddie had kinda told me you guys bailed on us.”
“What?” You mused over his words in confusion. 
Steve shook his head. “Yeah, I’m not sure, something about you not calling, or just basically canceling, I guess.” You and Winnie slowly looked at one another. “I don’t know, he called me before I clocked off work, but after a shift with my dad,” an airy laugh breathed out of him, “figured I could still go for a drink. So, sorry if I’m a little overdressed.” His hands panned over his suited body. “Yeah, so, I’m assuming some lines of communication got lost. You guys definitely didn’t cancel, right?” 
“No, we were trying to be feminists.” You sarcastically lilted. 
“Right, right.” Steve laughed along. “Well, uh, since this double date is definitely not canceled, why don’t we all head inside? I’ll call up Eddie, see if he picks up, and if not… well, I surely don’t mind taking out two pretty girls, so my treat.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m definitely keeping him.” Winnie whispered into your ear.
Where mandatory I.D checks made up The Albatross, it surely lacked at The Hideout, as nothing but spotted glass door—dirtied by a litter of sticky fingerprints—had fallen easily open to welcome any patron who chose to drown their stress with a bitter bottle of beer. Whatever Top 100 Hits Winnie had been used to listening to during her bar endeavors had been switched to bare the brunt of country rock, as older men and women spaced themselves accordingly, rather than the practical dry humping The Albatross was regularly accustomed to. 
Steve Harrington, the soon to be discovered paralegal, had situated you both to a lonesome table surrounded by four stools, where you received the chance to gaze about the rustic decor of American flags and sports jerseys that complimented the dusty deer head that hung against the dark wood. “Hey, so, you guys have any drink preferences?” His head gestured to the bar. 
“Two beers will be fine.” Winnie’s chipper voice answered, as you nodded in agreement. 
“Perfect, I’ll head up to get our drinks, and see if I can give Eddie a call.” Winnie froze under his innocent hand that landed on her shoulder, before Steve sauntered off. 
“Oh, Christ, I’m gonna marry him.” Winnie groaned into her hands. 
You giggled at her unease. “It’s barely been five minutes.”
“But it’s been a good five minutes.” She protested in defense. 
“Okay, so, um, while you get to enjoy your time with Steve, I mean, what should I do about Eddie?” You talked in hushed whispers, as subtle glances to the bar showed Steve in casual conversation with the bartender. “Like, what if he does come, y’know, he’s gonna be pissed? O-Or, uh, if he doesn’t show, does that mean he’s no longer interested?”
“Okay, shh.” Winnie interrupted your panicked speech. “Look, alright, we kinda did screw over Eddie, but, I mean, who were we to know he thought that was us canceling. If anything, we deserve the right to piss him off, especially me.” She scoffed. “That ‘Wendy’ bullcrap. What, do I look like some freckled, red-head child with braids slapped on some burger wrapper?”
You peered back at the revelation. “Oh, my god, wait, with your hair, you do kinda look like-”
“Shh, lalala, I’m hearing it, that wasn’t the point!” You wiped off the spit that flung from her harsh whispers. “Circling back,” her lips emphasized, “Eddie’s going to come, okay? He’s like every other dude, alright, they can’t take rejection, always have to bother you as to why you don’t want them. So, he’s going to come, and when he does, you have to stand your ground. Alright, no apologizing, no feeling bad, no ‘oh, let me make it up to you.’” She mocked her damsel-in-distress voice. “You better give him the cold shoulder. Anger is still very much an emotion, and if he’s angry that means he cares. It means he has feelings, feelings which you hurt! Like. A. Bad. Ass.”
You chuckled incredulously. “Don’t really think being mean makes me a badass-”
“It does in the case of Eddie Munson, alright?” Winnie cemented. “Clearly, people haven’t been mean enough to him.”
Steve Harrington had given Roger, the bartender, the grace to prioritize the other patrons on their refills, after opening his tab to the orders of you, Winnie, and him—alongside an additional order of generic greasy food—as a phone call to Eddie Munson was surely to last a bit more than a quick ‘hello.’ After gaining permission to use the establishment’s phone, Steve had propped himself against the wall of the back storage room, with the ringing, red phone against his ear.
Perhaps Eddie Munson was trying to overcompensate for the bruised ego caused by your rejection, as he resulted in swallowing the mouth of Jenny Albridge in the center of his living room couch. And I mean really swallowing. Their lips smacked hungrily with too much saliva, forcing Eddie to endure it if it mean fucking his frustrations out. 
And poor Jenny, while she’s heard of the eighth wonder Eddie had added to the world from underneath his pants, she hadn’t actually been with him. It just so happened to be faith that their shoulders collided, while she left her evening pilates class. And hell, after an intense, sweaty workout, she wanted another—albeit slightly different—intense, sweaty workout, especially after the numerous five star ratings. 
Though, maybe she’d just caught him on a bad day. Like, a really, really bad day. But maybe she was supposed to like it? The whole aggressive, teeth clashing, tongue invading, spit drenching make out that would hopefully finally lead to the good part. There was going to be a good part, right?
Ring, ring, ring, ring…
Oh, thank god, Eddie thought, as he finally had an excuse to detach from her lips, giving Jenny the go ahead to catch her breath with a deep gasp of air. He shifted quickly from the couch, walking to the phone, pulling it abruptly to stop the incessant shrilling. “Hello?”
“Ed, man.” Steve stood straight. “Hope you know the girls are here.” He snickered into the phone. 
“Girls?” Eddie wiped the spit from his lips. “What gi-” The revelation backhanded him in the face, as his mouth stooped low with confusion. “What? No, they canceled!”
“I think that’s what they had you thinking, but really they just drove themselves. And now, I’ve just ordered them beers and some food, so unless you’re giving me the grace to talk up your girl and her friend, I’d suggest you come down here as quick as possible.” Steve laughed. 
While he may have lived a couple towns over from the big city, Steve Harrington was no stranger to the name Eddie had given himself in Indianapolis, as periodic visits would consist of his friend recounting the newfound experience he gained with women, to eventually being one another’s wingman. 
In fact, Steve regularly joked about Eddie ‘decrowning’ him as king, as he now flaunted the hookup culture he, so very actively, participated in, thanks to the “bell bottom hippies, who were so desperately horny, they made it a movement.” His words, definitely not any history books’ words. 
“They’re fucking there?! Are you- ugh!” His fingers shoved into his eyes in frustration. “I fucking sent her flowers with the number, and everyth-”
“Woah, you sent her flowers?” Steve interrupted with shock. “Since when do you ever send flowers?”
“I don’t know! This girl is pissing me off, I- I’ll be there, alright!” Jenny Albridge scrunched her face in heavy judgment. “J-Just make sure she doesn’t- I mean, them. Make sure they don't leave!”
Steve chuckled at the stutter of his voice. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep them entertained.” He laughed. 
Eddie scoffed. “I’m serious, Harrington, no funny business! She already thinks I’m some asshole, and her friend is probably feeding her some more bullshit about how terrible I am.”
Steve playfully rolled his eyes, as he recalled the panicked phone call that transpired a couple hours prior, with Eddie imploring him to agree to a blind double date. Something about fucking some girl, but now wanting said girl’s friend, but said girl’s friend doesn’t want him, because said girl told her friend about him fucking other girls. Whatever it was, it was a big, jumbled mess, and Steve wondered why Eddie ever involved himself in the first place. Though, apparently, it was important enough if Eddie had to send you flowers. “Well, you did kinda screw over Winnie-” 
“Okay, that's not the point!” Eddie spat out in a rush. Maybe it was how alike Winnie Ambrose and Eddie Munson had been that repelled them so harshly from one another. Jenny Albridge was quietly shuffling on her shoes. “Look, I-” He took a deep breath, regulating himself. “I’ll be there. While I’m not going to force you to do anything, it would be greatly appreciated if you helped a friend out, and talked me up.”
“Alright, alright.” Steve agreed. “Just hurry up, I highly doubt you cruising around is gonna better any impression this girl’s already got for you.” With that, Steve cut off any response Eddie had prepared with the buzzing of a dead line, as he hung up the phone. 
Eddie sighed, running his hand through his hair. Turning around, he flinched at the sight of an awkwardly smiling Jenny, as he’d genuinely forgotten about her presence amidst the phone call. Both blinked back-in-forth to one another; a mutual consensus silently understood.
“Yeah, you need to leave.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”
-
A basket of chicken tenders and fries had interrupted your conversation short, as they were placed against the table, with Steve arriving with his hand clinging to the necks of three beer bottles, each tucked between the space of his fingers. “Sorry, I know it’s not Michelin Star-esque, but it’s the best this bar’s got, so hopefully it’s enough to satiate any hunger.” He smiled. Steve was hit with an influx of ‘thank you’s’ from the both of you, as the stationary centerpiece of condiments were beginning to fill up the tiny containers that came with the meal. “Oh, and Ed’s on his way, as well.”
“He’s coming?” You questioned.
“Yeah, yeah, told him to come as quick as possible.” Steve answered, as he took his seat next to Winnie. 
Winnie squirted an aggressive amount of ketchup onto her tray, leaving Steve to smile at her antics. “Wait, did he sound mad over the phone?”
“Uh, I mean, he was a little worked up, y’know, in his usual dramatic self.” His answer came with the hesitation of wondering how to play the best wingman to people who clearly hadn’t established the best opinion of him. “But, he’s coming, dropped everything and is on his way.”
“See, I told you.” Winnie nudged your shoulder. 
Steve popped a ranch covered fry into his mouth. “Told her what?” 
“That Eddie being angry means he’s totally into her.” Winnie proudly beamed. 
He laughed. “Oh, yeah, I heard about the whole flowers thing.”
You fervently shook your head. “I’m not exactly trusting anything Eddie does to be in good faith.” You proffered a delicate smile. “I mean, I know what he’s like, so not really trusting him to be this great person.”
Steve’s eyebrows furrowed. “So, then, can I ask why you agreed to date him? Like, especially after what he did to you.” 
Both you and Winnie took a second to stare at one another, before she leaned in close. “I know he’s your friend, but you promise not to say anything? Y’know, to him?” Now piqued with interest, Steve stood straight, nodding in agreement. “Okay…” Winnie sighed, “we’re basically trying to take him down.”
Steve laughed, quite amused, and very happy with accepting the request to go on this blind double date. “Wow, okay. A feminist thing?” He chuckled, “How’s that going?”
“Well, we’re only in the beginning stages, but it’s working great so far!” Winnie gloated. “I mean, he was literally begging her to go out on this date! I am a genius!”
“So, then what’s the follow up?”
“Well, I’m sure you know how Eddie is.” Steve confirmed it with a shake of his head. “We are just trying to make him feel how we, as women who have fallen victim to him, feel.” Winnie held her head high. “So, if all things run smoothly, then hopefully he’ll learn to not be such a douchebag.”
“Yeah,” Steve sighed, “I mean, he’s a good guy.” Winnie raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Well, at least, he used to be.” He clarified. “I think moving to the city was very much a way of letting go of his old life here, which, y’know, I’m proud of, though, I’m sure he’s probably not making the best decisions most of the time.”
“What was he letting go of?” You curiously asked, leaning against the table.
“Well, Eddie hasn’t always exactly been a ladies man.” He breathily chuckled. “Uh, in fact, probably not the most liked guy in town. By girls, or people in general. Just unfortunately got tied to a bad reputation, because of how close-minded Hawkins can be. Y’know, the whole metalhead gig isn’t exactly what the church goers of our town prefer.”
Concern etched across your face. “It got that bad that he wanted to leave?”
Steve nodded. “I mean, people are assholes, gave him grief just to take the piss out of him. I know he didn’t exactly want to leave- or, actually, leave the people in his life behind. He’s got an uncle over here, me and our other friends, his old band members, his little DnD club.” Eddie Munson, the cocky lead singer, played Dungeons and Dragons? You softly laughed, truly believing Eddie was an enigma; such juxtaposition within himself. “But, y’know, he had to do what he had to do. For himself.”
“And now he really does just do everything for himself.” Winnie playfully scoffed. 
“Well, I’m sure he’ll have a change of heart if he continues “seeing” you.” Steve smiled. “I mean, think the last I ever heard of Eddie giving anyone flowers was for this cheerleader he had some crush on, before her boyfriend got wind of it. It turned into this big blow out, Eddie, of course, had already gotten into his fair share of fights before, so pretty easy to say this kid got beat up, until his basketball buddies joined in. That only worsened his image, and pretty much humiliated him, so…”
“Yeah, no wonder he turned into such an asshole.” Winnie inferred, as a deep pit of sorrow buried in your belly for Eddie. Something you severely tried to ignore, given his background had garnered no justification for his current actions. 
“But maybe he’ll turn a new leaf.” His friend felt optimistic. Or, at least, hoped. “He still working down at that tattoo parlor, right?” 
Was he? Despite how much Winnie fed you, you actually knew nothing of him. “Probably.” Winnie’s face stuffed with the crunch of a juicy tender. “What about you, though? Eddie mentioned something about a lawyer?” She sweetly smiled.
Christ. Perhaps bailing on Eddie’s chauffeuring offer only forced you to become a third wheel for the time being. “Oh, definitely not a lawyer, just a paralegal for my dad who is one.”
“Still impressive, though.” She batted her lashes. “I’m sure you’re great at it.” Truthfully, Winnie Ambrose had no clue as to what a paralegal was, but if it made him flash his smile, then she’d gladly continue. 
“What about you two? You guys work?”
“Yeah, just as a barista, while I finish up college.” You concisely answered. 
“Oh, and I finished cosmetology school not too long ago, started working as a hairstylist, so I could totally do your hair, which by the way, you have great hair.” Her fingers delicately played with the few strands that framed his head. 
You hadn���t seen yourself suddenly wishing for Eddie Munson to appear sooner. It was on the sixth chicken tender that you were beginning to lose patience. While Steve Harrington had been the farthest from rude and included you in conversation, you weren’t socially inept to understand that his preferences laid in speaking with the girl he blindly agreed to date. But on the upside, you’d been surprised as to how entertaining it was to dip from between ketchup and ranch to please your taste buds. And washing it down with a cool beer? Surely, this was heaven-
“What happened to you not eating meat?” You felt his hot breath against your ear. 
Your nose nearly bumped his, as your head spun to meet his squinted eyes that scrutinized you through his glare. You had no other choice than to smile, and pop the last bit of the chicken tender into your mouth with a glorious crunch and moan that pissed him off with a smile searing onto his face. 
“Hey, man, you made it.” Steve Harrington had brandished Eddie Munson’s hand with the typical boyish handshake, before Eddie’s jacket met the table, and he took his seat next to you. 
Eddie incredulously chuckled. “Well, y’know, would’ve come sooner, but…” his glare twisted to you, “...apparently reading is a little hard to comprehend for some.”
Gobsmacked, you were ready to smack that smirk off his face, but Winnie had chimed in. “Actually, we did read it, we just didn’t care.” She placed a fry into her mouth. 
“‘We?’” Eddie laughed. “C’mon, Wendy, don’t you know by now no guy would ever give you flowers? That note was for Y/N.” Eddie hadn’t even cared to notice the look of offense that stunned her face, only focusing on whispering into your ear. “And I thought I told you by now to have a mind of your own?”
Your stomach became agitated by his words, and suddenly those six chicken tenders and fries felt like a bad idea. “God, you see how much of an asshole your friend is?” Winnie’s voice felt so distant in your hazed mind. 
“Hey, Ed, c’mon, knock it off.” Steve mediated. “Look, let’s just all start on a clean slate, alright? No more bickering.”
“Alright, then.” He sighed, switching his full attention to you with a sly grin. “It’s nice to see you again, Y/N.”
The most you could mobilize out of your mouth was a simple, “hi,” in return.
Eddie’s tongue lolled around the inside of his mouth. It was clear you were going to be short with him. “So, uh, new to Hawkins, huh? How’re ya liking it?” Winnie’s words of advice were burdening your overthinking head. Three seconds. One… two- “Uh, okay, I’m glad you could make it. Glad that you agreed most of all. Even if you got here without me.” You gulped. One… two… thr- “Can I get you another drink?” You blinked down at the half filled beer bottle you’ve been nursing. One… two… t- “Okay, don’t answer.” Eddie gave up with an exasperated sigh. 
“Hey, if you two would like another round, I can grab it for you?” Steve proffered, and you watched Winnie subtly nod her head to you in secrecy.
You stuttered back quickly. “Oh, yeah, t-that’d be great. Thank you, Steve.”
Eddie glowered in disbelief, watching as Steve whisked himself away towards the bar. “Y’know, if flowers weren’t your thing, you could’ve ringed me up to let me know?” He suddenly shoved himself in your face. 
“Oh, they are.” Winnie punctuated. “Just not from you.”
Eddie ignored her. He knew what she was doing, and he wasn’t falling under any trap that would subscribe him to that asshole attitude he surely acquired.
So, Eddie Munson’s eyes glued to yours. “Was it the type? Not your favorite? What is? Or, are you into those weird fruit bouquet things? I can get you those if you are? Hell, chocolate even-”
“No, Eddie.” You stopped his questionnaire. “I just- I just felt more comfortable riding with Winnie, s’all. Thought it’d be best. For me.”
For you. Was that enough to, at the very least, show him you did, in fact, totally, very much have a mind of your own…?
“Alright, then.” Eddie sat back, actually accepting your words. “Fair enough.”
“Plus, she just didn’t want to be stuck in a car with some pervy jackass.” Winnie smiled, mindlessly dipping her food into the condiments. 
Eddie chuckled. “Y’know what? I think we kinda got off on the wrong foot here.” He smiled, as she rolled her eyes. “So, I’m here to say I’m sorry. There it is. My formal apology. See? Growth.” Eddie winked over to you. 
“Oh, you’re sorry?” Winnie incredulously laughed. “For what is it exactly, Eddie, that you’re sorry for? For being an asshole? For lying? For leading me on? For having sex with me, then ditching me?”
Eddie pretended to ponder on that thought. “Yeah, sure.” He shrugged, as Winnie scoffed in disgust. “All of the above.” 
“Ugh, you little, piece of shi-” Steve set the bottles of beer down.
“Hey, everything alright here?” He hurriedly intervened. 
Winnie took a deep breath. “Fine, then. Apology accepted.” She ardently sat up straight. “So, how do you guys know each other?” She looked between both men. 
Eddie had been quite quick to answer. “High school.” Bluntly so, too.
“Oh, you mean back when you were a loser?” Winnie smiled.
Eddie’s face dropped. “You told them?!”
Steve exhaustedly sighed, running a stressed hand through his hair. “Dude, I didn’t mean- look, it just came up in conversation, I was just trying to explain things.”
Eddie fell back with a look of unease, shaking his head in disbelief. His expression had vividly written the discontent he had with Winnie bringing up his past, it clearly being something he hadn’t wished to be disclosed to people he barely knew. “Hey, okay, look, we don't have to talk about that.” You interrupted, watching Eddie preoccupy his discomfort by mindlessly picking at a napkin. “Um, Steve said that you worked at a tattoo parlor, is that right?” You softly pried, but your endeavors fell short with his blatant choice to ignore you. “Hey, Eddie, you said you wanted us to get to know each other better, right? Well, now, we’re on a date, so we can.” Your genuine smile was enough to have him slowly eye you. Throwing his words right back into his face, he hated it. 
Eddie slowly began sitting up, even choosing to discard the napkin. “Um, yeah. Alchemy Ink.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s the one down the-”
“-Street from the coffeehouse, yeah.” Eddie finished for you. “It’s, uh, why I go down there for my breaks.” He tried to shrug off.
“Oh, that notebook- the one you, uh, drew those cute, little bats in- the really good ones, is that where you draw, like, your tattoo ideas?” Damn it, you were making it really hard to stay angry with your sweet conversation. His lips twisted inward to suppress his fighting smile. 
You just had to fucking remember those damn bats, huh?
“Uh, yeah, t-the beginning sketches. Just, y’know, to get some ideas flowing, get a feel of what I can work with.” God, with you staring at him, Eddie really wished he had a beer to drown his stupid thoughts. But with how much you hated him, the rational part of his brain crossed off any idea of becoming a drunken asshole on a first date. 
“That’s really cool.” Fuck you for flashing that smile, Eddie thought. “You should tattoo some law scale on Steve.” You joked.
Eddie chuckled. “Already poked ‘KING’ into his ass.”
With Steve shaking his head in disbelief, Winnie gasped, as the act of hiding his face within his hands confirmed Eddie’s words. “You got the word ‘king’ tattooed on your ass?!” She laughed. 
Fair play to Eddie. “Hey, hey, in my defense, we were drunk high schoolers, and it was just some shitty stick-and-poke.” He laughed. “Plus, you have no room to talk, given ‘FREAK’ is permanently on your ass!”
“Freak? Why that of all things?” You questioned through your fits of giggles. 
Eddie flashed you that devilish smile that had you instantly regretting your words. “I can show you more than I can explain it to you.” And his winked was merely met with the annoyed roll of your eye. 
“No, no,” Steve laughed, “it was just some bullshit high school thing.” 
Luckily, any tension of hostility was able to dissolve through the bubbling laughter that naturally came around. Through the round of beers, the stories of which Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson held were animatedly shared in strides to get their dates to laugh. And to their credit, they surely did accomplish such task with recounting the juvenile trouble they encountered during their teenage years, while not stepping too deep into the territory at which Eddie was still visibly uncomfortable with. A part of you had been curious to understand the complexity as to why Eddie hated his past to such a degree. But your mouth stayed quiet, apart from minimal conversation, as you, too, would feel uneasy if anyone had brought up your past.
Which is why you grew stiff when the topic of conversation switched to how you befriended Winnie Ambrose. 
“Much like Harrington and I, you guys seem quite different.” Eddie interrogated. “So, how is it exactly you guys became friends?”
“Um,” Your brain went numb with the racking thoughts that were trying to spew out of your mouth to find anything, literally anything, to not mention him, Dalton…
“Same like you, y’know, high school.” Winnie briefed concisely enough to save you. “Nothing too crazy, really. Definitely not by some third-party freshman.” She joked to derail the conversation.
But ever the curious one, Eddie hadn’t stopped with the prodding, as he became quite serious with his task of getting to know you. Especially given the circumstance that he couldn’t thoroughly do so to his preferred degree, with two people hijacking this supposed date. “So, what? Through a class? A club? Were you in any clubs, Y/N?” You hated how ardent he’d become with eye contact. 
“Uh, n-no, never really was.” You stuttered out. “We just kinda met through friends, I guess. We, uh, knew the same perso- people.” 
“What person?” Eddie had clocked it, and his interest had skyrocketed. 
“Uh…” You swallowed thickly. “Just some ex-boyfriend s’all.” You adamantly tried to brush off with a giant swig of the beer in hand. 
But, of course, with the mention of an ex-partner, Eddie was never going to let it go. “‘Ex-boyfriend?’” He smiled sickly. “Someone I’m gonna need to fight to get to you, huh?” Eddie teased. “What was that relationship like?” He relished in the invasive nature that had your squirming in your seat. 
“Uh, I-I don’t, um-”
“Jeez, they broke up, and moved on. He’s irrelevant.” Winnie interrupted for your sake, as Eddie quietly scoffed to himself. “Are you currently seeing anyone else, Steve?” She turned the focus away. 
“Oh, uh, no, not seriously.” Steve answered. “Just a couple’a first dates the last few weeks, but most of which we’ve agreed to just keep it as such, no second.” 
Winnie flashed an overly bright smile. “See, it’s so attractive when guys actually communicate, and don’t blow off girls.” She couldn’t have been more obvious. “Right, Y/N?”
“Huh?” Suddenly, her elbow was connecting to your rib. “Ugh-um, right, right, so attractive.” You powered through the pain. 
“Respectable job, communicates, respectful, and has incredible hair,” Winnie gushed, “you’re really just, like, the perfect man, right?” She turned to you. 
“Mhm.” You sweetly smiled, choosing to turn your back to Eddie Munson to gaze your full attention to Steve. “Very perfect.”
Had Steve not been notified of this so-called ‘Take Eddie Munson Down’ operation, he surely would have cocked an eyebrow at the weird behavior you both were beginning to show. But the man was merely left blushing behind his hand, with a smile that held back amused laughter.
Because while Steve smiled, Eddie had scowled at your unexpected response.
It became quite evident he hadn’t been all too keen on sharing this night with others. While he understood he suggested the invitation of a stupid double date, it was only spoken as a last resort to finally get with you. And even then, it didn’t mean he had to like it. Especially, when all of sudden, any chance of a potential romance was abruptly shot down with Winnie Ambrose’s interjection to somehow turn the conversation to Steve Harrington, who you suddenly took a liking to?!
If it was the weather, suddenly you both were drooling over how Steve would “totally be, like, the hot weatherman you’d turn on the news for just to gawk over.”
If it was your studies, suddenly you’d exclaim about how Steve “looked just like that one sexy professor in the psychology department.”
If it was Eddie’s job, suddenly both of your attention was turning to Steve to detail “how hot he’d look with tattoos.”
I have tattoos, Eddie screamed in his head. His nostrils were flaring with deep breaths, as he felt his body boiling over the sight of you leaning over the table just to speak to him. By 10:02 P.M, the date had irreparably turned into some flirt fest starring Steve Harrington, and any attempts at having a one-on-one conversation with you had pissed him off to no avail, as you casually shrugged him off as some old pal. 
Eddie’s knee was bouncing by the second, eyes jumping from person to person, as the conversation carried on without him. Had any of you even noticed that he hadn’t spoken a word in five minutes?
“Well, I spent most of my time working with a close buddy of mine at a movie store, just a couple blocks…” Eddie didn’t even try to listen to Steve’s backstory, he couldn't even if he wanted to. His eyes had trained themselves to your side profile, the one that hadn’t looked at him in six minutes and twenty-three seconds in counting—crazy, he knows, but that wasn’t the topic of conversation—as you were too entranced with listening to Steve’s boring story. Eddie Munson had had enough. “...But my father was really hammerin’ on me to pursue something-” The grating noise of chair legs scraping across the floor had interrupted his speaking, as Eddie made the rash decision to pull you closer. 
With the close proximity, his hand secured itself around the back of neck to pull your head close, as his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. “Finish your food, I’m taking you somewhere else.”
You froze, as Eddie cleared his throat as though nothing happened. “What’s up?” Winnie worriedly questioned. 
“Nothing.” Eddie shrugged, finishing the last bit of his food. “Just taking Y/N somewhere, so we’re,” he gestured to the both of you, “wrapping this up. You lovebirds do as please.” As everyone was slowly accepting the abrupt ending of the double date, Eddie was casually reaching for his wallet to slap the table with a couple of bills. “I asked, so I’ll cover it, Harrington.”
Oh, shit. Winnie hadn’t prepared you for alone time with Eddie Munson. It’s when he strikes best!
“Yeah, thanks, man.” Steve offered in return, before turning to Winnie. “Um, would you be okay with wrapping up as well? You got quite some ride back to Indy, don’t you?”
“Oh, yeah.” Winnie solemnly agreed to, as she mentally cursed Eddie for ruining the only good date she’s been on in the last few weeks. 
You stood from your chair, finishing the last swig of your beer that you had left, before Eddie’s hand circled around your waist. “Hey,” he came in close, “It’s been a minute, so I’m just gonna say hello to Rog, and the couple’a people I haven’t seen in a while.” You nodded along, as you took into account the stories he recounted about his days of being a barback. “Here,” his keys dangled before you, “just make yourself comfortable, okay? I won't be long. It’s just the van out front.”
With two pats on the small of your back, all you could muster was a soft, “okay,” before you shuffled to Winnie.
Watching Eddie walk away, you clutched to her arm. “He told me to go to his car, I’m internally panicking right now!” You aggressively whispered.
“Okay, just calm down and go, alright? I’ll meet you out there in a second.”
With Winnie’s words, your legs worked fast to drag you out of the bar, where the gentle breeze slapped you with the needed composure to locate the large van parked a couple feet away. Unlocked, and strapped in, you took a deep breath in the passenger seat of Eddie’s car.
Though, that deep breath was unwarrantedly invaded by the pungent smell of weed and cigarettes, and while you were sure that may have come as a speedy remedy for stress, you weren’t too pleased to be suddenly struck with it at this moment. 
You jammed the key into the ignition, revving the van to life to hopefully clear the smell with the much needed air conditioning, but all you got in return was the thrashing clash of some metal band screaming into your ear from the abrasive volume Eddie chose to listen to his music. 
Jumping to turn it down, you finally settled back against the car seat with a heaving chest. But like clockwork, your nerves were shot with the adrenaline of being horrified from Winnie suddenly opening the car door.
“God, Winnie, you scared me half to death!” You screeched, as she clambered into the front seat. 
“Look, we have to make this quick, Steve’s using the bathroom, and who knows when Eddie’s coming back.” She underlined. “We gotta prepare you, okay? Being alone with Eddie is nothing like being on a double date with Eddie! This- this means he’s really into you!”
“O-Okay, so what now? I wait four seconds to respond?”
“‘Four seconds?’” Winnie looked at you as if you were crazy. “There’s no four seconds, you’re practically seeing Eddie Munson now! This is basically dating!”
“I don’t want to be dating, though!” You implored through round eyes. 
“Well, you’re just gonna have to suck it up!” Winnie set you straight. “Just remember, confidence is key, alright? Don’t let him walk all over you!” She coached. “You be straightforward with your responses, don’t let him intimidate you.”
The panic was beginning to settle too deep. “W-Well, what if he tries to make a move? Is he going to make a move?!”
“Look, just whatever he does, keep it to a minimum. Nothing more than a kiss, alright?” You nodded in agreement. “Are you a good kisser?”
Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Well, I-I don’t know, h-how does anyone know if they’re a good kisser?”
Winnie dramatically sighed. “Well, do you guys tell you you’re a good kisser?”
The sudden revelation hit you like a truck. “Oh, my god, I’m a bad kisser!”
“Sh! Sh!” Winnie tried to calm your trepidation. “Y/N, look, it’s really simple, okay?” She mounted over the center console to set your head straight. “It’s just effortless movements. Light touches, okay? Light.” Her hand gripped to your jaw. “Just lock onto him, nothing too crazy. Grab onto that gorgeous head of hair, but no passion just yet, you have to build it up.” Her face came closer. “Be in control, hold his gaze, it just has to be the temptation,” her breath fanned across your features, as you felt weary as to where this was heading, “just a light brush to leave him wanting more.” Suddenly, Winnie’s lips were planted against yours, and you made your truest effort to follow her guidance, until-
“Holy hell, kiss her again. Do it!”
You and Winnie instantly pulled apart to witness the gross man who stood watching in amusement in front of Eddie’s parked van. “Get out of here, you perv!” You flipped on the headlights to scare the man, who quickly scurried off, when suddenly the beaming headlights showed Eddie coming over. “Oh, shit, Eddie’s coming!”
Winnie freaked, suddenly choosing to scale over the front seats to scramble her way into the messy den that was the back area of Eddie’s car. You sat abnormally stiff once Eddie stepped foot into his van. “Hey, you okay?” He asked, as he settled himself in. 
“Mhm.” You hummed out. 
He took a second. “Um, look, I know it’s probably not the most ideal situation, but I promise it won’t be anything terrible.” You slowly peered at Eddie, who sat cautiously in his seat. “I-I just,” he sighed, “I just want to, at the very least, get a chance to actually speak to you. W-Without Harrington or your friend. Just you.”
“Okay.” You softly nodded to his request, which eased a deep breath from chest. “That’s okay.”
A small smile etched upon Eddie's face, and you hadn’t decided whether to take it innocently or sinisterly. With Eddie Munson, it was almost always the latter. With your approval, Eddie pulled out of the parking lot—unbeknownst to him, with Winnie in tow—to head along the long stretch of highways that traveled along the breadth of Hawkins, Indiana. 
Though, unfortunately, forgotten within the walls of The Hideout, Steve Harrington was flinging his hands dry from water due to the lack of paper towels that were never refilled within the men’s restroom, as he sought his way outside to a dead parking lot. “Win- Winnie?” He turned about. “Eddie? Anyone?”
Eddie’s fingers slowly turned the volume up of his radio. “Did you have a good time, at least?” He asked. 
“Oh, yeah, I quite liked the bar; a lot less crowded, which made it more enjoyable than the one from Saturday night.” 
“Yeah?” He lilted. “Not really into that scene, huh?”
“No.” You chuckled. “Definitely not, but it is yours, no?” You interrogated back, almost accusatory in Eddie’s eyes. “You go there a lot, I’m assuming?” Spoken as if to find a definitive reason to not let this “date” prolong any further than tonight. 
“I, well, um, wouldn’t say a lot.” He searched his way around the words. “Just when needed. For the band.” 
“Huh, okay.” Eddie thought you relented. “Not the best reputation with that band though, right?” You smiled so sickly, Eddie was scoffing out a laugh. 
He hadn’t seen such feistiness from you yet, he was honestly relishing in it. “We just- we just like to have fun, s’all. Don’t you? Unless you’re, like, some total buzzkill.” He smirked back. 
“No, not a buzzkill.” You protested. “Just have self-discipline, you know? Or, wait, do you not know?”
Eddie kissed his teeth with a dimpling grin that was becoming permanent on his face with. “Oh, no, I know.” His finger aggressively tapped against his steering wheel. Because, truthfully, if he hadn’t known, he would have immediately pulled the car over, and shut you up the way he knew best… and, well, did best. “Just, y’know, like to live my life to the fullest with everything accomplished.”
“And everyone apparently, huh?” 
Eddie’s knuckles were fusing white with the tight grip he clutched. “You’re walking on thin fucking ice here, Y/N.” He huffed a laugh from his buzzing body. 
“Why?” You feigned. “I thought you liked having fun?”
Oh, Eddie Munson was so fucked. 
Winnie Ambrose couldn’t have been more proud with the dedication shown by you, as she pushed through the pain of holding back her laughter that threatened to spill with every bump Eddie carelessly passed. She wrestled around the displayed blankets that she felt icky even touching, wondering what unfortunate crusted stains she may have been laying upon. Winnie shifted uncomfortably, as she reached beneath her to wedge out a bra that slung from under. Winnie silently gasped. “That dog.” She mouthed, until her nimble fingers suddenly felt the cushion of thick padding that invaded the bra.
Oh, great… it was her’s, she shamefully tucked the bra under her arm. 
Lover’s Lake had been nothing but a ten minute drive for you and Eddie Munson, but somehow, the tension you both left untouched with silence seemed to make it last an eternity, as you both suffocated in the teasing friction that consumed the air between you two. 
You peered out the window, watching worriedly as Eddie took a turn into a wooded path that left you viewing nothing but dark trees. “It won’t be anything terrible, huh?” You hid your anxiety through forced giggles. 
“Yup.” Eddie did little to denote any further. “There’ll be a time when you’ll finally trust me.” 
You head slumped against the cold glass. “Yeah, doubt it.” You whispered to yourself, unaware of the smile that ate at his face, as he quietly heard your words. 
Much to your dismay, Eddie Munson proved you wrong—though proving your right could have left your name attached to some true crime murder case—as his van parked along the clearing that showcased such a scenic view of a sparkling lake that reflected the crystal tranquility of the moon and stars. Too enthralled, you hadn’t taken notice of Eddie leaving the car, until he approached your side to guide you out. “Is this too terrible for you?” You shook your head. “Perfect, then. One of my favorite places, in fact, so it would have pissed me off if it was.” With the slam of the car door, Winnie peeked up from her hiding place, watching as you and Eddie began walking down west. 
“Do you come here often?” You pondered, taking in the scenery, as your shoes sunk into the mush of muddy grass and moss.
“When I lived here, yeah.” Eddie hopped over strewn branches. “For being so shitty, I gotta admit, this place sure does have some nice hiding spots. 
“You gonna take me to see all your secret hideouts?” You peered up at him. 
Eddie smiled. “When we get there, absolutely.”
“If.” You insisted. 
“When.” He retaliated. 
You rolled your eyes at the tongue-in-cheek attitude he liked to flaunt around, where he found nothing but mirth with every irk he managed to tick out of you. Silence settled through your stroll, until Eddie decided to break it with his unheard of vacillated voice. “So, uh, hey, you said you enjoyed tonight.” You nodded along. “Was that because of Harrington? Did you, like, I don’t know, like Steve?” 
His hands balled behind his back, as his peripheral glued to your face intently. “Oh, yeah, I liked Steve, he was really nice!” You sincerely spoke, as his teeth began sinking into the cracked despair of his bottom lip. 
“Oh,” was all he could proffer in return.
“I feel like it’s my duty to now push Winnie to continue seeing him.” You had no clue how much your giggles eased his mind. “He seems like he could be really nice to her, very sweet he is.”
Eddie huffed out a heavy sigh. “Y-Yeah, it’s nice those guys could hit it off… like us.” He smiled up close to your face, which had you stopping in your tracks.
“Are we hitting it off, Eddie?”
Standing before you, Eddie kissed his teeth with a grin. “I’d say we are, no? Got you out on a date, actually speaking to me, conversing well.”
“Okay.” You simply noted, continuing your walk, as he scurried to follow.
“‘Okay?’” Eddie repeated with the need of elaboration. “I don’t like that I don’t know what you’re thinking, Y/N.”
“Oh, maybe we are hitting it off, I feel the exact same way about you.” You joked through your soft laughter. 
“No, no, I say what I’m thinking.” Eddie maintained his stance. 
You incredulously laughed in return. “But Eddie, everything you say has quite the history of being a lie.” Your reprisal disseminated over any argument he was willing to divulge to support himself. Eddie Munson could only laugh at himself. How stupid of him to believe he could weasel some smooth talking to a girl, who quite literally witnessed him being kicked out of her apartment for being an asshole. “Kinda got my proof with Winnie-”
“Y’know,” he immediately interjected, “I think… you rely too much on her opinion.”
“And I think you’re a jackass.” You defensively snapped back. You hadn’t even expected it to come out so rash. 
Eddie mockingly laughed in your face. “Oh, yeah? You think I’m a jackass? Alright, I’ll be a jackass. What’s up with that ex-boyfriend of yours you got so weird about? He a jackass, too? Hurt you real bad? Did something to make you lose some bullshit trust, so now you rely on your friend to help you through everything? 
You loathed Eddie Munson. “Screw this.” You scoffed back, choosing to turn away from him, and make your steady way back to the van. 
But he had taken a hold of your hand, forcing you back to his vicinity. “Hey! We’re not done here.”
“Okay, fine! What’s up with your past here? You got really worked up over Winnie bringing that up. And I tried to be nice, and not talk about it, but since you’re such an asshole, I truly don’t care anymore.” You retorted. “Steve mentioned how much people hated you here, and honestly I can see why! You are so conceited, and full of yourself. You’re not considerate of anyone’s feelings, and god, you just say the meanest things. I’m pretty sure most people are happy you left this town, since it meant never having to be near you again.”
No longer was this the banter of any light teasing. Eddie had flung your hand from his, as he stared you down. “You don’t have a single fucking clue as to what you’re talking about.” His heavy breathing had to be manually controlled by his self-control, as his aggressive breath blew into your face.
“Oh, what, but you do?!” You derided so scornfully right back at him. 
Nothing but both of your heavy breathing could be heard against the empty lake front. With such intense eye contact that neither of you ever planned on breaking, Eddie was suddenly drawn in with temptation, and inched his head close against yours, as you lured yourself in…
Until your hands slapped against his chest. “What the hell are you doing?” You shoved him away. 
Your push had snapped some sense into Eddie, and his mouth had fallen open with the words that couldn’t be found, as he held his chest with a sincere hand. And it only worsened his case for a cocky grin to creep upon his face towards you. “You so wanted to kiss me.” 
Your mouth dropped at the absurdity of his ridiculing laughter. “Are you insane?! No, I didn’t!” You’d rather drown in Lover’s Lake than ever let him think so. “Christ, would you just get off your high horse for two seconds, and learn that not everyone wants you?”
You stomped on your heel, walking away from him once more. “I don’t have a fucking horse!” God, you could slap the stupidity out of him. “Hey, alright, c’mon, I shouldn’t have done that! Y/N!” His hand latched back onto yours. “Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Eddie turned you around. “My dad was some absent crook, who ruined my life with his schemes, and everyone in this shit town fucking took it out on me, alright? So, sorry, but it pissed me when you fucking said that shit.” Your brows furrowed at the sudden dump of information he expelled onto you. All while Eddie simply waited. “Well, go on.”
“What?” You questioned. 
“Your turn.” He made it seem so obvious. “You go, say something about that little boyfriend of yours.”
“W-Wha- no, I’m not gonna-”
Eddie dragged his hands over his face. “Oh, my god, just do it!”
“Fine!” You exasperated. “Yes, Eddie, he was a jackass. After two years, he just laid it all out that he never loved me like I love-” Your mouth clamped shut, as your face hid away with humiliation. “Look, I really don’t want to get into this.” You tried to get away, but Eddie had held back your movements. 
“Alright, so we won’t get into this.” He proclaimed. “What’s your favorite color?” 
“What? What are you doing?” You tried to walk around him.
But Eddie was there to keep his pace with you, only to fervently reiterate, “Just like you said, not getting into this. What’s your favorite color?”
You abruptly stopped with a defeated sigh. “Green.”
“Cool, mine’s black. Surprising, huh?” He sardonically smiled. You shook your head, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a tiny chuckle. “Alright, let’s see what else… oh! What’s your favorite food? And I already know you eat meat, so don’t fuck with me with that.” 
That, unfortunately, had you quietly giggling, but only at your own humor. “Um, I don’t know, uh, pesto pasta.”
“Ooh.” Eddie snapped his fingers. “I love buttered noodles, close enough, huh?” Christ, that got a laugh from you. “Hell, I’ll even make us some for our second date.”
“We are not going on a second date.” You chuckled, as you began walking away. 
Eddie was quick to follow along your steps. “Sure we are. How else am I gonna find out your favorite hobby?” You had to give him credit, it was quite the perfect invitation for a conversation. 
“I like puzzles.”
Eddie snorted. “Okay, grandma, I can get down with that.” He smiled. 
“Oh, shut up.” You rolled your eyes. “I know your favorite hobby.” You spoke matter-of-factly. 
“Oh, yeah?” Eddie grinned. “And what’s that, Y/N?”
“Dungeons and Dragons, you nerd.” You laughed, as Eddie shook his head in disbelief. It wasn’t exactly the number one thing he wanted women of his interest to know; not exactly the greatest chick magnet out there. 
Eddie feigned anger. “Fucking Harrington. The mouth on that one.” 
Though, with complete transparency, if airing out his so-called embarrassing secrets was needed in order to keep you happy, he was ready to dish out the time his uncle found a number of women’s underwear when visiting his apartment in Indianapolis. Even sat him down with a heart-to-heart to remind Eddie that he’d love him no matter who he was. 
It was cripplingly mortifying to notify his uncle that he, Eddie Munson, was, in fact, just a whore. 
-
Winnie Ambrose had mindlessly pulled apart all the split ends she managed to find in her head of hair, before she exasperatedly sighed with a heavy fall against the van floor. 
It felt like an eternity waiting for you to return. She’d only hoped you’d come with your dignity, and not as another notch on Eddie’s belt. It was only when her entertainment was finally being satisfied through her nosy curiosity of ruffling through Eddie’s belongings did the passenger door finally open.
Winnie laid so stiffly, as she heard you mutter a “thank you” to Eddie’s chivalry. Your eyes briefly connected for the couple seconds it took for Eddie to reach the driver side, with you nodding to the consensus of the thrown up thumbs up Winnie proffered. 
“Ready to head home?” Eddie asked. 
“Mhm, yeah.” You politely answered. 
The forty minute drive to Indianapolis was thus embarked upon, with Winnie having to endure the detailed lore behind Eddie the Head, when one- one, singular Iron Maiden song played. Where Winnie rolled her eyes, you were quite taken aback with how much information he was ready to elaborate upon, just because it was “totally sick that we share the same name!” In the wise words of Eddie Munson. 
Apparently his only motivation to learn anything. 
Rolling into the parking lot of your apartment complex, the sky thundered with the trudging storm the spring season had welcomed. 
Eddie had turned off the rumbling ignition of his car. “Um, w-would you mind just, like, walking with me?” 
Desperately wanting to jump over to your good side, Eddie had no issue with quickly agreeing to your request. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” 
Winnie slowly moved to the back double doors that would become her escape route. With Eddie whisking you away, you subtly peered back to catch glimpses of Winnie inching her legs out of the car, holding her breath, as every movement caused the old thing to creak from the rust. 
“Okay, um, I know things weren’t necessarily ideal, but I still really enjoyed being with you, and um, I’m just really glad you endured staying with me for this long.” He sniffed out a laugh that you followed along with. 
“Y-Yeah, um, I think everything managed to work out okay in the end.” You softly smiled.
Eddie’s hand found its way to the back of his neck, a classic move that not only let him appear nervous for your sympathy, but tactfully allowed his muscle to bulge for your pleasure. “I’ve gotten quite the understanding that you’re not exactly the type of girl to kiss on the first date… much to my dismay.” He dramatically sighed to make you laugh. “So, Y/N,” your name rolled off his tongue so languidly, “actually give me a call, because I’m not above tracking you down for a second date. But I mean it, have a great night, darling.” 
Slamming the door behind her, Winnie’s breath hitched at sudden cause that halted her escape plan. The heavy door closed on the damn maxi skirt you suggested she wear! “Oh, no. No, no, no, no!” She pulled against the threads that refused to stretch any longer. 
Watching her struggle, you panicked with how quickly Eddie was about to turn away, and your mind unanticipatedly resulted to your hand turning his face towards your own.
Nose bumping, breath fanning, you stared into his eyes. “Um,” your throat went dry. Eddie took your unwarranted invitation with his lips coming down slowly to ever so gently graze against yours. 
“C’mon,” yank! “Let,” yank! “Go,” rip! 
Winnie’s skirt clung from Eddie’s back doors, as she quickly scrambled to cover her exposed self. Seeing her scurry into the gated pool area of the complex, you suddenly diverged from the kiss, planting the tiniest peck to the corner of his mouth so quickly. “Okay, um, thanks for tonight, Eddie!” You hurriedly began walking away. “Have a good rest of your night!” You waved, while Eddie stood stunned. 
Utterly frozen. 
“Wasn’t even my date, and he still managed to get me out of my skirt.” Winnie cursed herself. 
A fluttering smile flushed on his face with heat, as his fingers graced on the phantom touch of your lips still lingering on your face. 
His confidence strides led him back to his van, as he felt on top of the world. There wasn’t any girl Eddie Munson couldn’t get, and his ego was relishing in the extra boost from your kiss. But with it came the frightening reality that he wanted more than what you were giving. 
He wanted you.
Revving up his engine, there wasn’t anything stopping in the way of Eddie Munson. Not even Winnie Ambrose’s skirt that slapped along the asphalt of the road with each foot Eddie drove up.
Your mind refused to focus on anything, but your apartment door, as one thought about Eddie was going to make your head spiral out of control. You wielded yourself to swallow away those nauseating butterflies that were exploding in your tummy. 
This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. You hated Eddie Munson. 
“And my car is still stuck at some dingy bar. Ugh, I hate Eddie Munson!” Winnie exclaimed. 
There was only one thing for certain: Eddie Munson must die!
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staycait · 7 months
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scaramouche x f!reader
. . . mentions of :
fingering , overstimulation , orgasm denial , & meanie scara :( !
MR. BRAT TAMER !
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YOU ARCH YOUR BACK AS SCARAMOUCHE
flawlessly and effortlessly pumps his fingers in and out of your seeping wet cunt.
you could feel tears prickling your eyes, his fingers curling into your sweet spot, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit.
you had been a brat throughout the entire day—whining about this and that and whatnot. scaramouche had gotten a serious headache from your constant whining and begging and crying, so he had thought that he’d make you whine, beg, and cry in a different and more erotic way that he’d obviously enjoy.
you whimpered, your moans getting more high pitched as you felt your orgasm coming close, your walls clenching around scaramouches fingers, the same fingers that are currently assaulting your poor little pussy.
scaramouche earns a protested moan as he removes his fingers from your hole, still rubbing slow circles on your red and sensitive nub, he brings his gaze from your puffy little cunt to your face.
“s-scara please..-“ hiccup. “n-need your cock.. so b-badly..!”
the look on your face and the way you begged always drives scaramouche to the edge. how could he say no when you looked so desperate and pathetic? but he still tried ignored the temptation and your pleas, after all, this was punishment. he couldn’t just simply give in to your cute little begging.
“good girls receive rewards, and bad girls receive punishment, which one are you currently receiving?”
you gulped, grinding against scaramouches hard bulge. you felt a tear run down your cheek as you answered his question.
“p-punishment…”
scaramouche grasped your hip more tightly when he feels your eagerness to have his cock buried deep inside you, he holds you down to stop you from grinding against him.
“will you be a brat and give me a headache next time we go out?”
you shook your head, scaramouche smiles at your response and he plunges three of his fingers inside your entrance. he knew your bratty behaviour would repeat again, but he also knows how to keep you in check. his fingers curl back into your sweet spot, a loud and pleasure-filled moan escapes from your throat.
scaramouche unzips his pants and takes his cock out as he fucks his fingers into you. he could read right through you—all you wanted was his cock. so you just nodded and shook your head to every word that goes past his lips to have his cock bruising your cervix.
however, scaramouche had other plans. he was going to fuck your cervix, not to pleasure you, but to teach you a lesson. and he promised himself that he wouldn’t stop until your legs would start to shake uncontrollably.
he takes away his hand and aligns his flushed tip to your entrance, he brings your body down, your body shocked with the intrusion yet it still welcomed it.
you had thought this was going to be your reward for listening, not until he started to pump his cock deep into you. you had no other choice—all you could do now is brace yourself for hours upon hours of assault on your overstimulated cunt.
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