Hey, Jealously

overhear ; Kim Namjoon

pairing: kim namjoon x female reader

words: 1,470

genre: angst, fluff??

summary: you accidentally hear namjoon call you clingy.

a/n: i missed writing again. yooo im so mad bec i had to write this twice bec my laptop suddenly shut down, its so annoying bec i liked the first version better :<

masterlist

(gif not mine)

You pushed open the front door to the boys’ apartment. Hoping to visit your boyfriend, Namjoon, who you haven’t seen in about a week. Voices echoed throughout the house, confirming that the boys were indeed home. You clutched the bags of food in your hands, figuring that they were probably hungry so you bought some on your way here. As you neared the living room, where they were all staying, you heard Namjoon’s voice. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop but his voice was booming loud.

“I’m so sick and tired of her!” Namjoon’s voice yelled out, making you halt and frown. “I can’t go through an hour without Y/N spamming me with texts and calls. She uses my clothes all the time as if she doesn’t have her own. It’s starting to annoy me,” You almost dropped the bags you were holding but you stopped yourself before anyone would notice you were standing just outside of the room they are in, “I just want my own space and time but she’s just so clingy. I wished she would just stop.” You heard him mumble the last part. Your eyes brimmed up with tears upon hearing his statement. You had no idea he felt this way.

You heard enough so you decided to creep into the kitchen and leave the food atop of the counter, leaving a small note saying to enjoy the meal. You left the dorm without further notice.

You made your way home, shutting yourself into your bedroom before letting your held back tears fall down. You had no idea Namjoon felt this way about your affection. You thought back about the days where you would question him how he was doing or if he was getting enough sleep and rest. You grabbed your phone, deciding to read all the texts you’ve been sending for the past week. Frowning, finally seeing why he called you clingy. You sighed, calming down, deciding to switch things up.

You stood up, heading to your closet, removing all of Namjoon’s article of clothing from your cabinet. Folding each and one neatly before returning it back to his closet. You tucked your phone away, not wanting to be tempted to message him once more today.

Namjoon came home later that night, dead tired from all the practicing he was required to do. The house was quiet and dark which was very unusual but he decided to shrug it off, thinking that maybe you were in the shower or sleeping. He silently made his way towards your shared bedroom, in case you were indeed sleeping, he didn’t want to bother you. Pushing the door open to the bedroom he saw your figured hunched up at your side of  the bed completely. Scared that you would almost fall off if you moved one inch, he dropped his bag on the floor before approaching your frame. Namjoon wrapped his arms around your body, fixating you so that you would be able to get proper slumber by having a better posture. His actions caused you to jerk awake, eyes fluttering open.

“What are you doing?” You mumbled, letting out a small yawn. Namjoon smiled at your sleepy state, pressing a light kiss on top of your head.

“You were almost falling, baby.” He informed you, letting go of your body to change his clothes into much comfortable ones. As he opened his closet, he saw how his clothes were neatly folded and piled upon each other, he thought of it as you just clearing out his clothing so he let it go. Once Namjoon was done preparing for bed, he saw you trying to fumble away from his side of the bed which made him confused so he walked towards the bed, sliding in. Expecting for you to climb in his arms, but you didn’t which was odd. “Are you okay?” He asked, worriedly.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You said so quietly that he almost didn’t catch it. Namjoon once again shrugged it off, grabbing onto you before pulling you close to his chest. His movements made you let out a tiny yelp at the suddenness. His words earlier once again echoed through your mind, “Uh, Joon, can you let me go? I-it’s too hot for me.” You excused.

“What?” Namjoon frowned at your words.

“Please.” You whispered, trying not to be too loud because you knew he had a tiring day. He listened to your command, letting you go of his arms. Once he did, you moved further away from him, clutching your pillow instead, “Goodnight.” Your back facing him.

Namjoon didn’t reply, instead he watched as your back greeted him instead of seeing your lovely face like always.

A week has gone by and you were astounded with how well you were on being less clingy. You had work almost everyday so it helped on being a distraction. Sending Namjoon a simple ‘good morning’ text when you saw that he left for work in the morning. Greeting him with a kiss on the cheek when he arrived home and preparing a small meal for him to consume before disappearing into the bedroom to give him enough space and time for himself.

Namjoon was starting to notice the sudden change of your behavior. He sometimes caught himself staring at his phone, waiting for your affectionate texts as usual. Staring at the studio door, hoping for you to walk right in. His expectations got his hopes up and only to be left disappointed when you weren’t appearing. Once Namjoon arrives home at your apartment, he expected for you to bounce right at him to engulf him with a hug and pamper him with kisses like how you usually do, but instead he was greeted by silence and cold air.

“Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?” Namjoon finally piped out once you left a meal on the table and was about to head out, to leave him alone again. You froze on your spot, thinking of the right words to say.

You let out a small laugh, back still facing him, “Of course not.” You shrugged before continuing to walk once again but you were pulled back by his hand on your arm making you jump at the sudden contact.

“Stop that.” You studied his face, noticing how he had a stressed look plastered on.

“Stop what?” You questioned.

“Stop leaving me alone!” Namjoon’s hands went up to his hair, gripping on it lightly. “I miss you so much and I know something has changed. You barely speak to me anymore, you don’t cuddle with me when we’re about to sleep. You don’t even tell me you love me anymore.” He mumbled the last part, arms falling down to reach for you, encasing you with his arms. “Please tell me what I did wrong, Y/N. I want to fix everything.”

Tears started forming in your eyes at his words, “I-I overheard you telling the boys how clingy and annoying I was,” You started, “so I decided that maybe I should lessen my affection so I could give you the space you needed.” You felt a tear slip down your face. “I, uh, also stopped wearing your clothes as you were complaining that I wore them all the time.” You let out a shaky breathe, “I’m sorry if I smothered you too much.”

“No! No no no.” Namjoon lets out rapidly, “That was so fucking stupid of me to say. I was so stressed and I know that shouldn’t be an excuse for me to speak of you that way. I’m so sorry Y/N.” His hands reached up to caress your back softly. “I love your constant affection, it makes me feel so special and loved. I love seeing you pass by the studio just to make sure we all have proper meals, and I absolutely love seeing you wearing my clothes, you look adorable in them. Please don’t take my words from that day so seriously. I’m sorry I hurt you, my queen, I promise to never hurt your feelings ever again. I love you so fucking much.”

You both agreed to head to bed after the small talk you had. As you were getting ready, Namjoon handed you his hoodie that had his all familiar scent on it, “Wear it, you look lovely.” Was all he said before he returned the bathroom to do his nightly routine. You did what he told you to, slipping the hoodie on your body before climbing into the bed.

Namjoon shortly slipped beside you and you let him hold you in his arms once again, “I missed this, I missed you.” You heard him mutter quietly.

“I missed you too.” You admitted, snuggling closer to him. “I love you, Joonie.”

“I love you so much more than you imagine, Y/N.”

Nightly routine

Bts Yoongi!Hybrid x reader fluff

Addicting. That’s what Yoongi would call your scent. He couldn’t get enough of how you smelt. He would walk up to you purring. His soft black cat ears twitching as he hugged you, his tail swaying softly and he took in deep breaths. It was funny,

He loved the way you smelt when you had just come home from work and smelt sweaty. He said it showed how womanly you were and how healthy you were.

But his favourite smell of all, was when you just finished having a shower before bed. So much so that one day he asked if he could stay in the bathroom while you showered. Curious of how you smelt so delicious after. He sat there on the floor. Tail wrapped around his waist as he watched with fascination. It wasn’t a sexual vibe. It was loving, appreciative, passionate. He watched as you slowly lathered your hands with a special pre wash conditioner you used to stop your hair from being frizzy the next day and massages it into your scalp leaving it to set in for a few minutes while you washed your feet and lower body with your rose body wash.

The smell of the pre wash conditioner and the rose body wash Yoongi was beginning to recognise these from your scent and he purred lightly causing you to smile widely at him blowing him a kiss before rincing you hair. You used your shampoo and washed your upper body. Then after rincing it all out you used your conditioner. The smell to Yoongi was nothing short of euphoric. He lifted his nose higher into the air sniffing wildly. You stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel when Yoongi jumped up and started licking your neck and shoulders in order to taste your scent a bit clearer. He normally did this when you’re both in bed. It shows how much he cares for you.

“Yoongles,” you chuckle as he wrapped the towel around your body.

Once you’re both in bed he cuddles up to your back like always and lays your hair out behind you shoving his face into your hair and pulling you flush against his body he falls asleep to the smell of your hair, the steady beating of your heart mixed with the sounds of your breathing. The feeling of you laying in his arms. You both sleep soundly.

Being awoken with licks and kisses on your neck is a normal way to wake. He calls it scenting you. So if you pass any other hybrids they know. You belong to someone. You belong to him.

I Would Walk 10,000 Miles To You

Summary: The first thing you notice about Jake "Hangman" Seresin when he rings your doorbell at 1:30 in the morning is that no matter the time of day, he is devastatingly handsome. The second thing you notice is that he is absolutely smashed drunk. You know your hands will be full dealing with your brother's friend tonight. Well, you suppose he might be your friend too.

Pairings: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick 

Word count: 5.8k

Warnings: Falling in love with Brother's Best Friend (kinda), strangers to friends to lovers, pinning, Deployment, love confessions, Praise kink (if you squint), light angst, happy ending, Slight AirForce slander, drinking.

A/N: No use of Y/N this time. The readers' brother is also a pilot, call sign FreightTrain. I've been fiddling with this for a while, but I finally just decided to post it. I hope you enjoy it. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts and tags are always appreciated as well! I love reading through them.

You and Jake had become unlikely friends. Jake was one of your brother's college friends, having graduated from the Naval Academy the same year and then continuing to flight school together. You had met him once or twice over the years back then. You had always thought he was attractive, but you were just his friend's little sister. So, you never put much thought into him outside the occasional brief times your paths would overlap.

Then a few years later, when talking to your brother on the phone, you found out that Jake was on deployment, having a rough go of things. His dad couldn't be bothered or couldn't figure out how to send Jake any care packages, and his mom hadn't been in the picture for a long time, according to your brother.

Less than a week later, you had a care package on the way to him. You filled it with some generic snacks and items that your family had asked for over the years on their own deployments. You also sent a card with well wishes and signed it from your whole family.

At the last minute at the post office, you had thrown in a note to him asking that if he had any specific requests for items to please let you know, and then attached your phone number.

The thank you text message you received a few weeks later when he got the package was short, genuine, and sweet. You hadn't thought much more about it or him after that. Your goal had been accomplished of helping out your brother's friend and a serviceman.

Then a month or so later, you received a text from Jake again. It had been extremely tentative. He asked if you could send some specific sunscreen he liked, which didn't irritate his skin and a few other products. He also included that he would pay you for it and emphasized that if it was in any way an inconvenience, you didn't have to. Repeating at least twice to feel no obligation to fulfill the request.

What were you going to do, though? Leave this man alone without necessities that worked for him? Absolutely not. So you put together another care package with things he liked and started a new note on your phone titled Hangman's likes.

This time you signed the ‘thinking of you’ card from yourself. Hangman thanked you again once he got the package, asking to PayPal you the money, but you refused. Jake didn't like that, and it led to you having a playful argument. It was the first time he had actually called you on a deployment. You had answered the call, unsure, having forgotten what his voice had even sounded like after the years since you had a conversation with the man. Those long past meetings had been minimal interactions to start with.

"Hello?" You asked hesitantly, not sure the call wasn't a butt dial.

"Hello there. How are you?" His voice was quiet and deeper than you had remembered it. There was a slight crackle to the line, something not uncommon over long-distance wifi calls like this.

"Hi, Hangman. I am well. How are you doing? Holding up, I hope?"

"Yeah, I'm doing okay over here. A lot better now that you sent me all the good stuff."

"Well, my family and I want to help support you in any way we can. I promise it's not an inconvenience at all. I understand how hard it is what you're going through." You trailed off, not entirely sure what else to say.

"I really appreciate it, but I know how much everything costs. So, you need to let me pay you back." His voice was still kind but had a stern undertone like he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"Absolutely not."

"I will get info from your brother," he all but growled the threat.

"I will tell him to not give it to you," You quickly reply. He huffed in frustration hearing that made you laugh.

"That's not very fair," Jake complained to you.

"Sorry, I'm not big on fairness when someone needs something," you told him kindly. You ended up talking for fifteen more minutes, asking about other things he might like in a care package, with him trying to evade your questions.

You told him you had to go, and he thanked you once again for being willing to support and help him out. He also threatened that he would find a way to pay you back once again. You found it hard to stop grinning after the conversation.

Knowing products only last so long, you set up a regular schedule to send Jake some items. Like clockwork, you would get thank you calls from him and harassment on how he could pay you back. Jake would also ask about your life, seeming genuinely interested. The conversations started to vary the more you talked. Your cards in each of his care packages became more personalized, beginning to fill with inside jokes.

At the end of that deployment, you felt an odd mixture of sadness and happiness. Of course, you were glad Jake would be back stateside and on regular duty, but it also seemed like the most obvious natural conclusion of this odd friendship that had developed.

For Jake's last care package, you filled it with stuff that would be most useful for traveling back to the United States. It was also the first care package you hadn't gotten a thank you call for since the initial one. 

Hangman minding his manners, had at least sent you an appreciative text.  It felt like a nail in a coffin moment. You had to fight off an abysmal mood for the rest of the week, reminding yourself that you were only helping your brother's friend out. It was never any more than that, and it never would be. Telling yourself that only helped so much, though.

You call Jake for the first time, upset almost two months later. You had opened your mail to find a letter with crisp blocky lettering giving your name and address. The return address was one Jake Seresin, with a US address you didn't recognize. Inside was a beautiful thank you card filled with Jake's same neat handwriting. It had a heartfelt thank you for what a difference you made on his deployment. It made your heart flutter.

What did not make your heart flutter and instead actually made your blood boil was the amount of money that had been stuffed into the card. Inside the card were way too many hundred dollar bills lined up and, on top of that, a visa gift card.

You were clicking the call button on his contact before you even made it back inside the house. The phone rang and rang. When he did pick up, his voice was crisp and business-like. It was almost unnerving to hear him so clearly, after being used to crackly spotty calls.

"This is Lieutenant Seresin."

"Tell me, did you always have this much audacity, or did you learn it in the academy?" You asked him, voice dripping with sarcasm. There was a long pause from him before he started chuckling.

"Well, hello to you too, Darlin. I haven't heard from you in a while."

Your stomach did not flip at the nickname; there was no possible way. You almost had to pinch yourself to focus back on the conversation.

"That isn't an answer, Hangman. You know it is not safe to send this much money in the mail. Plus, you know I didn't want to be paid back!"

"I knew if I wrote a check, you wouldn't cash or deposit it," he says. His voice is still teasing, and he is clearly enjoying one-upping you."

"I am sending this back to you."

"Absolutely not." The teasing in his voice was less present now. "If you don't want to see it as paying you back, fine. Then just look at it as a thank you for being one of the only things keeping me sane during deployment."

You sighed heavily into the phone, but your anger waned at his claim that you helped him. The silence stretches a little, and you feel acceptance slowly filling you.

"I am just not comfortable with it. You know there are other ways to say thank you. I would have been delighted with just a card." You told him.

"Oh really?" Jake asked, that amused tone coming back again. "What would some acceptable forms be then?"

"It's too late; you chose money."

"I'll brainstorm some other ideas then."

"No, you can't do anything else now."

He doesn't say anything to that, only hums into the phone.

"I'm so sorry to call you out of the blue like this. Are you busy?"

"No, not busy. I just got home from work,” he tells you.

"How is being back in the States?"

"Weird," Jake says honestly.

Before you know it, you two talk for another hour, and Jake feels like your friend again. You two talk every once in a while, and you finally start to think you might actually be real friends.

During his next deployment, you don't even hesitate to start sending him care packages again. Jake is just as thankful; each time he gets your care package, flowers are delivered to your door within a day or two. Then written thank you cards come at a much more delayed pace, postage from the other side of the world accompanied by Jake's clean handwriting and sweet messages. You much prefer it over the money he sent the first time.

The pattern continues through the whole deployment and two TAD also. This time your friendship never waned, only growing stronger. You still get flutters when talking to him sometimes. It never ventures beyond that, though, and you eventually give up trying to be flirty or hopeful something would develop between you two. Jake never seems interested in you that way, and sometimes it feels more like he sees you as a little sister than even a friend, which is a low blow.

However, it really starts to reach a breaking point when Jake excitedly tells you that he is getting restationed to a naval base in your area. The concept of being an in-person friend with Jake is foreign. At first, you aren't sure you can even handle it. Seeing his handsome face, wanting him, knowing what the products you have bought for him over the last two years smell like on his skin. Seeing how his eyes crinkle when he smiles and matching up his facial expression to different tones of voice you are familiar with, it is just as difficult as you imagined it would be.

You had tried to distance yourself initially, rationalizing that you were too busy to fit a new friend in your life. However, this never worked with him; he would go above and beyond to accommodate whatever weird schedules you would throw at him. This is how he became more of a best friend to you. The whole situation really came to a boil on a Friday night in August.

The first thing you notice about Jake "Hangman" Seresin when he rings your doorbell at 1:30 in the morning is that no matter the time of day, he is devastatingly handsome. The second thing you notice is that he is absolutely smashed drunk.

"Jake?" You ask him like he might disappear and this is just a dream.

"Hello, Darlin," His accent is three times as thick after drinking, and he sways a little where he is standing. His hair was messy, and his eyes had a glassy glazed-over look to them.

You quickly look around, trying to figure out how he got here. There wasn't a car in sight, though, which was somewhat of a relief. At least you knew that he hadn't driven by the lack of his truck.

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted," he starts to say but then abruptly snaps his mouth closed. His face scrunches like he is trying really hard to concentrate. He closes his eyes for a moment, and when they open again, he looks a bit like a lost puppy. "I don't know."

You sigh and wrap your arms around yourself, throwing open the door and ushering him into the house. "How about you come in?"

A grin instantly split his face, and he walked through your door, brushing extremely close to you, ignoring the ample space you left for him to go through the door. He went to your kitchen and slumped into one of the bar stools at the breakfast bar. You closed the front door, locking it before following after him.

"How did you get here?" You asked.

"I walked."

"You walked from where?" You were wracking your brain, trying to think of anywhere close by he could have been and gotten this drunk.

"Was at Red Brick Rhythm," he tells you, his face propped up on one of his hands, his elbow planted firmly on the counter. Jake doesn't stop looking at you either, his eyes following your every move.

You fill up a glass of water and pour in some liquid IV before handing it to him, trying to place the club in your mind. Then you gasp, suddenly remembering where it is. "Jake, that's like five miles away."

He hummed noncommittally and took a big gulp of the water. He set it down half full now and was looking at you like he was waiting for some sort of prize at his effort. You are half tempted to tell him he is a good Lieutenant, but instead, you try to escape his gaze by looking in your fridge.

"Are you hungry?"

“I'm always ravenous, sweetheart," he tells you and winks. Jake makes you laugh, and you start to examine the contents of your fridge.

"What do you want then? I'm not sure I have much."

He didn't answer you, so you turned to find him staring at you again. Jake responds in a dead serious voice, ”I'll take anything you give me."

You sighed since that didn't help you but watched him fight to keep his eyes open and decided to throw some tater tots in the Airfryer real quick.

"No complaining with what you get then."

"Yes, ma'am," he responded, nodding his head slowly. The action made him close his eyes and take a deep breath.

You parked yourself against the counter, leaning back against it to examine him. "How are you feeling? Okay, do you need anything?"

His eyes open, and he slowly blinks at you a few times, and a severe frown suddenly mars his features. You want to run your fingers over the crease in his eyebrows and the shape of his lips until he smiles again. You almost have to physically shake your head to dislodge the thought from your brain.

"Did you have a date tonight?" He blurts out as if he finally noticed the makeup on your face and your hair that is still styled. He had caught you before you were ready to wash off the night. You hesitate for a moment, not sure you actually want to talk about it, but decide to tell him. You don't want Jake to think you couldn't find anything better to do on a Friday night than stay home.

"Yeah, I did."

"How was it?"

"It was good," you lied. It had actually been terrible.

The man you met from Hinge had shown up late and ditched the bill on you, unwilling to split it as you requested. On top of that, he had asked you three whole questions before he went on a rant for the rest of the date about what he thought women should and shouldn't be doing.

The lie you told Jake didn't ease the frown on his face, though, or the darkness in his eyes. His free hand drums against your countertop in a light staccato, drawing your eyes towards them and his academy graduation ring. "Couldn't be too good if you answered the door, and you're here alone."

"Who says I'm here alone?" You ask, raising an eyebrow. "There could be a satisfied man in my bed right now. Or maybe we did the deed, and he is already on his way home."

"You wouldn't have answered the door," Jake says slowly. You can see his drunk mind doing mental gymnastics at the possibility you presented to him. However, the severe look on his face eases significantly after that. "And you don't look satisfied, Darlin."

"I don't look satisfied?" you question him. This line of conversation was quickly entering a place you two had never gone before. "And you would know what that looks like, Hangman?" You tease him.

"I could make you very satisfied. No sane man would let you out of bed once he had you there, let alone this early at night. With your pretty little mouth still looking in perfect shape, I bet you didn't even make it to second base."

His damn fingers hadn't stopped their drumming on the counter, and suddenly they were the only thing filling your thoughts about how they would feel against you, in you. He also looks distracted, though, staring at you again. You bite your lip, trying hard to clear your mind to figure out how to redirect this conversation.

"Are you doubting my capabilities to satisfy you?" He questioned your words catching up with him. He stood up from the stool he had been sitting on, looking much steadier on his feet than when he showed up at your door.

"Don't think I could ruin that pretty makeup, tangle your hair, eat you out until you cried? Make you beg for me? You doubt I could make you forget your own name? Then put you back together again?" Every fiber of your being knew he could probably do every one of those things and not even put in much effort.

"No, I don't doubt your capabilities. Just…" you finally choked out and trailed off, feeling like there suddenly wasn't enough oxygen in the room.

"Just what?" He asked you, and his voice was sinfully deep.

"Just that you don't know when I look like that." You supply, the words were stilted and awkward.

"What if we found out together then? Me what you look like. And you, what it feels like."

He made to move closer to you, but you instinctually held up one of your hands, and he stopped freezing in place. You finally averted your gaze from him to the Airfryer dinging. You grabbed a plate and threw the tater tots on it, collecting some condiments from the fridge so Jake would have options.

He was still standing in the same spot and hadn't moved any closer in the process it took you to get the food. Jake’s bright eyes burning into your back.

You can't quite quell the heat simmering in you from the line of conversation. The sinful tone of Jake's voice. Of course, those were all things you wanted from him, things you imagined. But that wasn't realistic, and he was drunk. You were his friend's little sister, probably his most robust support system during deployments, his close friend and confidant. One drunken tumble in the sheets wasn't worth risking that.

You sigh heavily, setting the plate down on the counter where he had been sitting. "Sit down, Jake, and eat."

He follows orders well because, of course, he does. He dips a tater tot in some of the homemade BBQ sauce he had given you a few months ago and shoves it into his mouth. Jake has that same look he did with the water, which he is once again sipping, like he is looking for praise. However, under that, he looks a little defeated, his shoulders hunched slightly.

"Listen," you start slowly, trying to craftily pick your words so no more damage can be done. "You are drunk, and I was just teasing. It's nothing, Jake."

"I'm not too drunk," he defends himself, munching on another tot.

"You're sloshed," you say, pointing a finger.

"I am not sloshed, sweetheart. I walked all the way here. I drank water. My words aren't slurring." All of these were valid points, and his drunk mannerisms were improving by the minute. However, he was still inebriated. He had been drinking tonight, and you could use that as a defense.

"Doesn't change that you have been drinking, Jake."

He then dropped a tater tot that was halfway to his mouth and glared at you. He had never glared at you before. You weren't sure how to handle this situation. Instinctively you flinched a little at the harsh look, which lasted for a minute longer before he dropped his head low and stared at the plate.

"Am I just your pity, friend?" He asked you quietly.

"What? No, of course not!"

"I know I'm not the only one of Freight's friends you have sent care packets." He said using your brother's call sign, which made your eyebrows raise. Jake had known your brother, FreightTrain, since well before that was his call sign and they went to flight school together.

"Of course, I help support some of them when y'all are deployed. I am literally in the American Legion Auxiliary, you know," you said, shrugging like it wasn't a big deal.

"You send Bradshaw care packages," Jake said, the bitterness in his voice unmistakable. "He told me about it. "

You glared at him then, not about to put up with him being jealous over something like that.

"And so what if I do? Rooster is my brother's friend, just like you. And the man is an orphan. Who else is going to send him packages?"

"He is a grown man who can take care of himself."

"The same can be said about you, Jake."

He huffed, and that annoying crease in-between his eyebrows deepened along with his frown. His bottom lip caught in-between his teeth, biting it a few times in frustration before letting go.

"Do you want a list of all the people I send them to? I don't understand your issue here."

"The issue is," Jake clenched his fist and jaw before growling out the rest of his sentence, "I'm not just Freight's friend to you! We are more than that."

"Are we?" You ask him quietly, not knowing that was actually true.

Silence hung in the air between you while you waited to see if he would fill it. Waiting for Jake to reassure you that no, of course, y'all were more. That he cared about you as much as you cared about him. That you weren't just a convenient and useful person in his life. That you could have your beautiful friendship and so much more. However, instead of giving you those reassurances, Jake decided to finish his water and stand up again.

"I'm sorry for bothering you tonight, Ma'am. It won't happen again."

"Jake, no," you said softly, being the one who moved towards him now. "Stop. Where are you going to go? It's the middle of the night. You can stay here and finish eating."

"I can't impose more than I already have, Ma'am."

"Stop calling me Ma'am," You snap at him, already feeling the hurt of this encounter ringing through your veins.

"I can't stay here," Jake told you, and you were just thankful he didn't attach Ma'am to the clipped sentence this time.

"Well, this is me temporarily waiving my third amendment rights. Okay?" you say gently, pleading with your eyes. You were reeling from this interaction. Part of you still felt charged by his suggestive words of what he could do to you. Part of you was desperately worried you had somehow messed up your friendship. Then there was part of you that was confused about this jealous problem he seems to have with you sending care packages to other people.

"No, not okay."

"Not okay?" You parrot back.

"Do you know why I walked all the way here?" He asked you, his tone dead serious, and the glaze that had been there in his eyes when you first opened the door was almost entirely gone.

"Because you couldn't remember anywhere else to go?"

"No," he said calmly. "I came here tonight because I was drunk, and the only person I wanted to see was you. I always want to see you. No matter how far away you are, my feet are begging me to walk towards you: from down the road, the other side of the country, the middle of the ocean. You are my soul's compass point now.

"Normally, I can resist. I can act like I'm just your friend or your brother's friend. That I was just assigned this base randomly, without any subtle and insistent requests to my superiors for reassignment here. I can pretend that I don't have every single one of your cards saved. I have so much control all the time, but I am so tired. And tonight I was drinking, then I just couldn't stop my feet anymore from walking here, to you."

Every possible thought in your brain suddenly ran to the exit. The only thing occupying your mind was the look of pure sincerity on Jake "Hangman" Seresin's face while he poured his heart out.

"Jake," you whispered, taking a few steps toward him. This time, however, he was the one who stopped you, holding up his hand.

"I've never felt like I wasn't good enough before. Maybe a bit when I was younger, but not since I got over all my childhood bullshit and went to USNA. Definitely not since I figured out I'm actually the best at something as a pilot in flight school. But now I can't escape the feeling. I run the numbers all the time. I try and figure out if I have interpreted the signs wrong. I just can't wrap my mind around why I'm not good enough for you."

Jake might as well have taken a knife out of the block sitting by your stove and stabbed you. That would have hurt less than the tight feeling in your chest hearing him admit he felt insufficient. Jake's posture, the way he shrunk into himself, was wrong. He refused to meet your eyes now. It was all wrong, so incompatible with the man you knew Jake Seresin to be. He looked like he was about to keep going, but you didn't think your heart, which had just ripped itself into pieces, could handle hearing anything else.

"Enough," you growl out, slapping your hand down on the counter. "I won't hear another word of this." That just seemed to make Jake shrink more into himself, and he looked seconds away from hightailing it out of the door.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves and make a fully conscious effort so that your voice came out kind and caring. "You are worthy, Jake. I am ashamed if, for some reason, I have contributed to making you feel like you aren't."

"That's not enough to make you love me," he whispered, still not looking at you.

"Look at me," You begged. His eyes remained on the abandoned plate, so you repeated your request just as softly. Finally, when those sea glass eyes poured into yours, they were filled with hurt and panic. You tried to find the words to adequately say how you felt, the words that could make him understand the situation you were in.

"I love you too much to love you, Jake." You immediately wanted to stick your foot in your mouth hearing the words out loud.

"What does that mean?" He asked, which, to be fair, was a valid question.

"It means I care about you too much. It means you are too special to me. You are too good of a friend to try and fuck it up by adding more. I have to have you in my life. I won't lose us just because we decide to have sex or try something else, and it doesn't work out. It could never be worth it enough to even entertain losing you."

"Well, I love you too much to keep being your friend. I can't hear about your dates or watch you care about someone else. I can't be your friend anymore, pretending I'm not in love with you. It would never be genuine, and you deserve more than that."

Tears spring up in your eyes at his words, and your hands clench into fists. The only thing that stops you from sobbing is the steady breaths you are reminding yourself to take. "Then I guess we are at an impasse."

"This is the end then," Jake's voice breaks when he says end. You can't hold back the tears anymore; all it takes is two blinks, then they slide down your cheeks in fat drops.

"Don't say that," you beg him.

"I don't know what else to say."

"Take it back, say that you are drunk. That you don't love me. That I'm your friend's annoying little sister, who you promised to keep an eye on. Tell me you aren't leaving me. Tell me something that will fix this between us."

Silence stenches between the both of you again. Tears keep falling down your face, your eyes were begging Jake for comfort, but they only meet the steady resignation in his.

"I hate seeing you cry." He finally utters, which just makes you cry harder.

"Please," you didn't know what you were asking him for, though. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to self-soothe and find some form of comfort. Jake continued staring at you. He made a micromovement like he was going to come comfort you at least twice but stopped himself each time.

"I'm going to go." He gave you one final look and spun on his heel towards your front door.

You only let him get to the hallway, where he originally kicked off his shoes and was starting to shove them back on his feet. You caught his arm, wrapping your hand around it, stopping his movements.

"Don't do this. I love you."

"You're breaking my heart," he whispers, covering your hand with his own. Jake's USNA ring felt cool against your flushed skin.

"If I let you have me, will you stay?"

"No, not now that I know you don't want me."

"I never said I didn't want you," you retort, squeezing his arm a little.

“No. I could have bared simply not being enough or that you found me unattractive. What you told me was worse."

"I can't lose you over this. Not over drunken words and feelings."

"I'm not drunk," he growled out with a steel edge to his voice. "I'm not even a lick beyond stone-cold sober anymore. So stop implying my words and feelings are anything beyond genuine. I ain't asking you for tonight, sweetheart. I was here asking you for forever."

God, you knew that was what he was asking for, but that only made it so much scarier. His hand started to slip from where it covering yours. You twisted your hand to catch his fingers in yours. Ever so slowly, you brought it closer to you and brushed your lips over his knuckles. Jake's eyes were tracing your actions watching intently. When your lips touched his skin, he audibly gasped. The intake of breath was so minimal you wouldn't have heard it if you hadn't been standing so close.

"My date was terrible," you whispered to him, not letting go of his hand and holding it close to yourself. Jake raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything, so you just continued on. "They always are bad, even when they should be good, because they are never with you. And I also have kept all of your thank you cards. I've dried every bouquet of flowers you sent to me, so I wouldn't ever have to throw them out.

"I dream about you and think about you all the time. I didn't even want to be friends when you first moved here, because I was already more than in love with you from texts and phone calls. The first time I smelled your aftershave, which I had bought you, on your actual skin, I wanted to jump your bones. You didn't make it easier for me, Jake, looking like you were crafted from marble by an artist. And then I found out you tip servers well. I learned you are just as funny and kind in person as you were on the phone. An accomplished, decorated Naval officer, giving me any time of day even as a friend still seems ludicrous. You are too good to be true and certainly too damn good for me, Jake Seresin."

His pupils were blown wide, and his mouth open just the tiniest bit. He leans forward, you are fully expecting him to kiss you now, but instead, his forehead presses into yours. It's a grounding feeling, the weight of skull against yours, your breath mingling. It reminds both of you that this is real. His free hand comes to cup your cheek pushing away the stray tears still clinging to your cheeks. Your eyes pouring into each other, hardly even blinking.

"I can be yours then?" he asked when your breathing had evened out.

"You already are mine. You've been mine for a long time, haven't you?" You reassured him and asked him in the same breath.

"Yes. I've been yours. Always yours," Jake muttered lowly.

"Good. You are so good. Too good." You praised him, and his face split into a grin, and you were tempted to break the moment you were having and kiss him silly.

"Will you let me love you then?" He asked you a moment later.

"Yes, but it won't be easy," you warn him.

"If I wanted anything easy in life, I would have joined the Air Force." Before the joke even fully settles, or you have a moment to defend the Air Forces' honor, Jake's lips press against yours. The way his mouth feels against yours is even better than you had imagined.

You invite him to your bed, but he refuses to sleep with you, even if it is just sharing a bed, before at least one proper date. You try to fight him on it, but Jake says he can't be anything but a proper gentleman. You make up the couch for him, taking too long to tuck the blanket around him because you keep getting distracted by kissing every inch of his face. Finally,  you go to bed when you can't stop yawning, realizing it is past three am.

In the morning, you wake up sure the night before had been a dream. However, you are proven wrong when you make your way out of your room. There you find Jake shirtless in the kitchen humming to the music he has playing on his phone, flipping pancakes and bacon. The sight and scents combined literally make your mouth water.

"Can this count as our first date?" You ask him before even saying good morning. The laugh it prompts in him is warm and fills the whole room before settling your chest. You know it's a sound you never want to stop hearing.

Polar Opposites

Summary: You and Jasper are so different yet you work so well

Warnings: fluff, craziness, chaos, fire

Reader: Gender Neutral

Pairings: Jasper Hale x Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 883

A/n: Requested by Anon: What about a Jasper Hale x fem reader where she’s like a chaotic pyromaniac? I feel like it’d be funny to read about someone so calm like Jasper to be with someone so chaotic… Ok, so this turned out to be really short but I hope you like it, I struggled more than I thought I would but I think it’s still good! ALSO I wrote this with the reader as a female in mind but there’s no pronouns so 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Masterlist

You found it poetic that the thing you loved most in the world ended up being the thing that caused your end. It wasn’t a person that captured your heart or a cause that your life was devoted to. It was fire. Literally a burning flame.

When you were little you remember sitting by the fireplace that was used to keep your home warm. You’d sit in front of the flames and stare at them for hours. You’d watch the wood turn to ash and the light flicker off the walls. You thought it was more beautiful than the sunset and more powerful than the winds that demolished your village.

You became obsessed with the flame. It was beautiful and it consumed everything within it’s reach. One day you just so happened to be it’s victim. Only instead of being consumed you survived.

Keep reading

That's My Girl

SYNOPSIS: Being Steve's ex was not easy, especially now that you are with "freak Eddie". Steve regrets how he treated you and wants you back.

GENRE: angst, fluff

"Max, I haven't been to a party since I broke up with Steve. What if I forget how to... I don't know, be human?" The redhead snorts and rolls her eyes at you. You sigh and look back in the mirror, holding two dresses up to yourself.

"Go with the black." she says in reference to the tight black dress you've held up.

"Yeah?"

"Wear it with your leather jacket." She suggests, nodding her head to the coat rack. You nodded and slipped on the dress.

"What if Steve is there?" You ask worryingly, making eye contact through the mirror.

"Just be normal, he'll be normal too." You bit your lip. Would he? He didn't take the breakup very well at first.

-

You stand near the hallway, bored out of your mind. You never realized how much you relied on Steve to be social. He's been sneaking glances at you all night. It turns into genuine staring, and just as you're about to leave from being so uncomfortable, a certain someone burst through the door. Eddie "the freak" Munson. You didn't think this was his scene, in fact you knew it wasn't.

He enters with his arms fully out, stepping in theatrically.

"Well well well, all of Hawkins finest all in one place! I must be so lucky to have been invited." He says making eye contact with one of the cheerleaders who had clearly invited him as a joke. A few people shout out insults that seem to bounce right off of him. He chuckles and starts to walk past, but catches a look at you and hangs behind.

"Y/n? Didn't think this was your scene." he says with a sly look. You had a few classes with Eddie last year, you got along quite well.

"Could say the same about you, Munson." You say, taking a sip from your red solo cup. You look over and catch Steve staring. He looks away quickly, but not quick enough to miss Eddie's gaze. You shut your eyes a sigh. He notices you displeased reaction and takes a gamble.

"You know, I never thought he was the right guy for you." He says, looking at the teen and his great hair.

"Yeah, well. I certainly am not the right girl for him." You take another drink. Your relationship with Steve was great when it started. You had great chemistry and cared about each other. But soon, he became distracted. He missed phone calls, bailed out of dates and seemed disinterested in you overall. All because he never got over Nancy. Once the initial attraction to you wore off all he was left with was his love for Nancy. You weren't stupid, so you realized and dumped him. He was clearly still in denial of it himself, insisting he didn't love her. But you knew it was true.

"If it's any consolation, you've always been my dream girl." He confesses with a chuckle. Your eyes widen and blush creeps its way to your face.

"No way, really?" You questions with an incredulous look. He nodded with a smile.

"Had a huge crush on you last year." He looks relieved but nervous about his sudden confession and he fakes a cough.

"Me too." You return his feeling. He steps closer to you.

"I was going to ask you out, but then you got together with the hair." You pursed your lips and frowned a bit, looking down to your feet.

"how about we get you a drink?" You offer.

"I'd rather share yours." He says, gently taking you cup from your hands and taking a sip. You smile wide.

That was the start of your relationship with Eddie. Soon enough you moved in together and were having the time of your lives together, falling deeper in love with one another each day. He made you feel like the only girl in the world.

-

"When I saw her at that party, I don't know something inside of me just fell into place. And I knew I had to get her back." Steve says with a sigh as Robin hoists herself atop the counter.

"So? Get her back then."

"She's with Eddie now." He whines rubbing his face.

"No shit, Eddie Munson?" He nods and slides down the counter. Robin raises her eyebrows and shakes her head.

"I don't know what to do. Something about her Robin, I just can't let her go. I can't believe how stupid I was." Robin turns to him, curious.

"Stupid?" He nods again.

"Stupid. She gave me everything and I mean, I was still in love with Nancy. And she totally knew it so she dumped me. Didn't realize what I had til' it was gone." Robin gives a sympathetic look to him.

The door rings as two people step in; you and Eddie. You give a smile to robin and a little wave, meanwhile Eddie gives a polite and tight lipped grin to Steve. Steve doesn't miss the way Eddie's grip on your waist tightens when he sees him.

Steve cannot keep his eyes off of you. The way you giggle when Eddie seemingly suggests a stupid movie, the way you hit his shoulder playfully when he teases you. That should be him. He misses you.

Eddie settles behind you with his chin leaning on your forehead, arms wrapped around you while you browse the horror collection. The jealousy hit's Steve's heart hard, and Eddie notices. Eddie looks over to see Steve staring and he doesn't hesitate to send a glare back. Normally Eddie would be very civil with his partner's ex, but after knowing how Steve treated you and made you feel he couldn't play nice, especially not when he looked at you the way he did.

Steve looks away and to Robin who was looking very uncomfortable with the tension, tension you were entirely unaware of. Steve gets frustrated from seeing you looking utterly in love with each other and leaves to the back.

-

You tried to convince Eddie to go to your friend's birthday party but to no avail. As much as he loved you he really didn't feel like listening to the name calling today. You understood, of course, and decided to just go without him. He helped you pick out your outfit (not without him feeling you up) and you drove off, looking forward to seeing the friends you hadn't seen since graduation. You knew Steve would be there but it didnt bother you very much. You were sure he wouldn't say much more than a greeting.

The staring begun again, and Steve couldn't stand to see you without him. So without warning, he pulls you to the side.

"Oh. Hey Steve."

"I can't stand it anymore."You cock your head to the side and raise an eyebrow questioningly.

"Please Y/n, just hear me out. I just need you to hear what I have to say." You rub your arm, feeling on the spot. You nod at him to continue.

"I know I fucked up, trust me I know. But I just don't want to be without you anymore. Just let me show you I love you." He pleads, looking straight into you.

"Steve, stop being ridiculous. I have a boyfriend." You scoff, turning to walk away before you are stopped by Steve blocking your path.

"I know. And I don't-" He sighs and pinches his nosebridge.

"I don't care. Just one night, that's all I ask. Just one night to let me show you how much I love you. I need you in my arms again." His voice breaks to a whisper. You couldn't believe the disrespect Steve just showed your relationship. To think he could ask you to cheat on Eddie and just switch back to him was frankly insulting. So your face morphs to a genuine frown and your eyebrows furrow before your hand swiftly slaps the the side of Steve's face, harder than you meant to.

"Fuck you Steve." You spit, turning around to exit the now silent party. He tries to stop you from leaving, grabbing your arm and telling you,

"It was never Nancy, Y/n. It's always been you." His sudden confession has you feeling feelings you had when you were with Steve. Feelings of always being the second choice. Feeling like your own partner didn't love you. You couldn't help but let the tears of frustration for your younger self spill and you slammed the door in Steve's face.

-

"Hey, princess. How'd it go?" You just sigh and hug him, starting to feel your eyes well up again. Once he heard your sniffling his eyes widened and hugged you tighter, holding your head in his chest.

"What happened baby?" His low voice soothes you. You take a deep breath.

"Steve was there." Eddie leans back, wanting to see your face. His heart hurts at the sight of your red eyes.

"What the hell did he do?" He can't help but start to get heated, his desire to protect you taking over.

"He- I don't know. It doesn't matter, it was stupid." He can tell you're holding back. He doesn't have to say anything more, only looking at you with the softest of looks until you tell him.

"He asked me to cheat on you, with him. Something about showing me his love." Eddie is furious, but more than that, frustrated and sad for you.

"Are you being serious, I swear to fuck I'll-"

"I took care of it." You assure him. He couldn't help but smile. How could he think even for a second you wouldn't?

"I slapped him, harder than I thought and I think I made it pretty clear I wasn't interested." You say with stern tone. He grins wide and proud, pulling you into his arms.

"That's my girl."

Hi hi! I’m sure you’re being flooded, but I’d love a little something about younger (20 or older though!) reader babysitting for dad! Steve. Smutty if you feel so inclined. Can be single or not, dealer’s choice!

I went wayyyy overboard with this, oops, but it was so sexy omfg

word count: 2k

warnings: huge age gap (45+ vs 20), unprotected sex, breeding kink, oral m receiving, sliiiightly mean dom steve, size kink, stomach bulge kink, daddy kink

You'd been crushing on Mr. Harrington for years, actually... even before the divorce.

It wasn't just that he was good-looking, although that was obviously part of it. It was the way he acted with you, it made you feel all girly and little and dumb; it was the way he played with his kids which made your uterus sob in envy; it was the way he wore reflective shades to the pool and you had to wonder if he was looking at you and seeing how much you'd grown.

For the longest, much to your dismay, nothing happened between you. You'd been trying to make conversation after he came back each night to finish your babysitting shift, but it never really worked. Nothing worked, actually, not even the skimpy outfits or the strategic bending over or the casual touches to his arm or knee.

Nothing worked until last night.

It started mostly normal, except that he was obviously in a worse mood than usual. You asked how his date went; he dodged the question. You pressed again, and he shook his head as he sat down on the couch, running his hands over his hair.

"It's starting to feel futile," he explained, speaking quietly knowing his kids were asleep down the hall.

"What is?"

"All of it," he breathed. "Dating, work, all of it."

You sat next to him, pulling your knees up on the sofa and tilting your head sympathetically. "Tell me about it," you offered.

Amazingly, he did. He told you about how each woman he went out with was worse than the last, and he didn't trust any of them with his kids. That made your heart skip; I'm his babysitter, he trusts me with his kids.

He told you about how rough the divorce had been, and then the custody arrangements. Apparently he was still dealing with that even though Mrs. Harrington had moved out probably almost two years ago now.

He told you about how hard his job was, how the hours killed him, how he could barely find time to spend with his family because he was putting out everyone else's fires at the office.

"That all sounds really stressful, Mr. Harrington," you cooed when he finished his rant. "You need to relax."

He chuckled a little. "Easier said than done."

"Maybe I can help you."

He raised an eyebrow in confusion, but his eyes went wide as he watched you get on your knees on the ground.

"Let me help you relax, Mr. Harrington," you pleaded, running your hands over his legs gently as they stayed slightly spread on the couch.

"Oh, uh— I— sweetie, we can't—"

You reached up to his belt, and even if his words were hesitant, he lifted his hips slightly to make it easier for you to unbuckle it.

"Are you— fuck— are you really—? Baby..."

It made your hips wiggle against the carpet hearing him talk like that. You got his fly open next, and started to rub his cock through his boxers underneath. His eyes followed your every move in disbelief.

He was just starting to get hard when you took him out, but he was already so big... your mouth was watering. You couldn't wait any longer: you looked up at him for just a second before you leaned forward and took his fat head into your mouth.

Groaning and tilting his head back, his hands found purchase in your hair instantly.

"Fuuuck," he breathed, "you're... you're so bad, sweetie, you know you shouldn't... oh my god."

You bobbed your head eagerly, feeling him swell and harden against your tongue until your mouth was stretched to its limit by his size. You hummed around him joyfully, revelling in the softly salty taste on your tongue. Stroking with your hand what your lips couldn't reach, you took a break after a few minutes to look up at him for approval.

"Where'd a sweet girl like you learn how to do that?" he asked with a long sigh. "Fuck, keep sucking... look up at me, baby."

You did as you were told, and he adjusted his hips slightly so it was easier for you to keep eye contact with him while you suckled at his throbbing head.

"Good," he praised, stroking your cheek as you worked. "Such pretty eyes... and that pretty mouth too, god. Take it deeper, sweetie, you can choke a little."

His hand helped push you down until his dick hit the end of your throat, and you gagged helplessly. He moaned loudest at that, eyes falling shut for a moment.

"Too big for your little mouth, huh?" he noticed. "Poor baby. Choke on me again."

You did as he said and noticed his hips rocking up to push his cock even deeper and gag you even harder. Tears welled in your eyes but he purred in satisfaction.

"Mm, good job," he praised, "you're so good for me, sweetie."

Needing a break for your throat, you pulled back and stroked him slowly as you made conversation. "How long has it been since somebody sucked your cock, Mr. Harrington?" you asked sweetly.

"Fuck, I don't even know— years? Before Allie was born, probably. She didn't... she never did it, really," he mumbled, and you tried not to bite your lip. Of course his bitch ex-wife never did this to him, he was probably so starved for affection for ages.

"That's such a shame," you pouted, "it tastes so good. I'd never be able to stop tasting you, Mr. Harrington."

"Then don't stop," he encouraged, pushing your head down again. You got back into the pattern, only taking breaks to lathe the shaft in long licks from base to tip; he seemed to like those a lot.

Sometimes you felt his cock throb and you hoped it meant he would come soon: you couldn't wait. You went on for a while longer, though, and started to get desperate for it. When his heavy breathing made you pretty sure he was close, you broke the pattern one more time to encourage him. "I want you to come in my mouth," you informed him. "M'gonna swallow it, sir, I promise."

"No, fuck no," he interrupted, surprising you. "No, I want that pussy. Fuck, I need your pussy, get up here."

You climbed onto the couch eagerly, straddling his lap as he started to pull your skirt up right away. He snapped your panties off like it was nothing, instantly groaning at the sight of your mound beneath; you felt so exposed in the best way, you worried you were going to drip right down onto his khakis with him looking at you like that.

"Fuck, sweetie, you're so gorgeous," he sighed, "such a gorgeous little pussy. C'mere..."

He held your thighs, petting them as he guided you down to his cock. He stopped looking at it once he was just barely pushing inside, instead starting to watch your face as you sank down onto his length with a moan. "Fuck!" you whimpered. "Fuck, too big, you're too—"

"Shh, shh," he soothed, "gotta be quiet, baby, the kids are asleep."

Your gut burned from how stupidly hot that was, and you bit your lip to try to keep it down. His cock reached the end of you and you jolted, trying to move back up, but he shook his head and kept guiding you down.

"No, sweetie, you need to take all of me," he scolded gently. "You're gonna take all of me, fuck, so good..."

Finally, somehow, he managed to get it all inside until your thighs were flush with his. You were shaking, it was so deep you were shaking; there was a slight bulge in your tummy where his cock filled you. "Mr. Harrington, it's too deep..."

He growled, actually growled, and held your hips tightly. "No, baby, it's just the right amount. You're taking me so good... all of my cock is in you, sweetie, you're doing so fucking good. Now just ride me."

Shaking and whimpering, you started to rock your hips on top of his; he sighed and watched you, looking wrecked in the best way.

"Yeah, fuck," he encouraged, "fuck, you know how long it's been since I had pussy like this? Tight, wet, young pussy like yours? You feel so fucking good..."

"You too," you moaned, "you feel so good, Mr. Harrington..."

He smirked a bit. "I think we're on a first name basis by now... but I want you to keep calling me that anyways. It's so fucking cute."

Pulling you a little closer, he whispered right by your ear.

"Maybe," he suggested, "you could even call me daddy."

"Oh, daddy," you pounced on the opportunity immediately, and he groaned in satisfaction. "Daddy, it feels really really good..."

"Yeah? Well then why don't you cream for me, huh? Let that cute little pussy come on my cock—"

You didn't even let him finish. You'd been worked up since he got here and it hit you all at once. He watched you proudly, thin laughter ringing in your ears.

"God, you're so sensitive," he groaned, "it's gonna take me a while, baby, I'm not as young as you... takes me all night sometimes."

You shuddered; "I don't have anywhere to be..."

"Yeah you do," he corrected, starting to guide your hips as your motions faltered from the exhaustion of coming. "Your parents are probably worried about you, sweetie. They don't know what a slut you are, do they?"

You shook your head. "N-no, daddy..."

"Fuck," he breathed, "you're so cute... show daddy your tits, sweetie— lift up your shirt for me and show me your tits."

He was more than capable of doing it himself, but he preferred to watch you roll up your tank top and let him see your tits, hardened from being so turned on by all this. You'd stopped wearing a bra around him months ago, and it was all worth it as he reached up and palmed one of your breasts.

"Mm," he hummed, "you've got great tits, baby— you show them off too much, though."

He slid his hand across your chest to touch the other gently. "I only did that for you, Mr. Harrington," you promised, "I just wanted your attention... wanted you to see how grown up I am..."

He smirked. "You got my fucking attention, sweetie."

With renewed energy, you started to take control again, riding him in earnest. "Really?" you confirmed hopefully. "Did you think about me, daddy? Did you ever jerk off and think about my tits?"

He delayed his answer by hissing a little, looking down at where your pussy slid up and down on him before tilting his head back again. "Yes," he admitted, "yeah, I thought about you. I would've done it a lot more if I knew you wanted me to."

"Of course I wanted you to," you giggled, "I have such a big crush on you, Mr. Harrington, I have for so long..."

"A crush, huh?" he laughed.

You nodded eagerly, whining when he held onto you tighter and started to thrust up into you off the couch.

"You know I'm more than twice your age, right?" he reminded you with a purr, and you nodded. "You know I'm older than your dad, right?"

Your head was spinning, but you nodded again.

"And you know I could get you pregnant... right?"

You moaned, head falling back, and he laughed.

"I knew it," he gloated, "I knew that was what you wanted— knew you needed some babies fucked into you, sweet girl. Daddy's gonna knock you up, s'that what you want?"

"Yes, yes!" you sobbed.

You weren't moving at all now, you were limp and useless as he thrust up into you hard and fast, making you cry and moan so loudly he had to cover your mouth. "I'll come, fuck, nice and deep," he promised, "and give you a baby, yeah? Get you so full and pregnant, just how you want it."

You were begging him for it, but it was all muffled into nonsense under his hand as he fucked up into you rough and fast. It ended with a groan, his head falling back and his body going limp under you as he came. You collapsed onto him, both of you sinking into the couch as you caught your breath.

His hands rested on your thighs still, sometimes petting them or moving up to your waist; you shyly hid your face in the crook of his neck, hardly believing that this really happened— and terrified you would wake up and realize it was all a wonderful dream. "Think I'm gonna need you to babysit for me again tomorrow night," he broke the silence suddenly. "I'll pay double for the short notice."

"I'll do it for free," you replied.

M.List

-Bang Chan-

To Sub or Not To Sub (role reversal!Au) ft. Felix

To Sub or Not To Sub 2 ft. Felix

The Box (Free Rent 3) ft. Minho

-Lee Know-

Punishment (hard dom!Minho)

Fever (bestfriend!Au, college!Au, roommates!Au) 

His Kitten (dom!Minho, hybrid!reader)

Pool Party (jealous!Minho)

Soft Blurb 

The Box (Free Rent 3) ft. Chan

-Changbin-

Under The Table (exhibitionism)

-Hyunjin-

Icecream (suggestive)

A French Morning (morning sex)

MoonStorm (superhero!reader, supervillain!Hyunjin)

-Han-

Moaning In Your Sleep 

-Felix-

To Sub or Not To Sub (role reversal!Au) ft. Chan

To Sub or Not To Sub 2 ft. Chan

-Seungmin-

coming soon

-I.N-

coming soon

-Multiple Members-

Free Rent 1 (all members)

Free Rent 2 (all members)

To Sub or Not To Sub (Chanlix)

To Sub or Not To Sub 2 (Chanlix)

The Box (Free Rent 3) (Minchan)

e. munson || ‘shut up.’ ‘make me.’

A/N: ok here's the smut fic i promised i'd write,, thanks to everyone who suggested songs !! rlly set the mood for me nyehehe >:D

warnings: enemies to lovers, smut!!!, fem! reader, p in v intercourse, cunnulingus, spanking, degradation, mean dom!eddie

You were the perfect student any teacher could ever ask for.

You were consistent in your studies, submitted all your assignments on time, and even did extra credit work to further boost your grades.

You were a straight A student with a report card that gleamed so brightly it made any nerd within the vicinity jealous.

However, it wasn’t because you wanted to be a teacher’s pet. You were focused on your academics because all you wanted to do was to succeed in life; get into one of the top colleges, graduate not only with honors but as summa cum laude, apply for the best, highest paying job you could get, and continue on your life as the ultimate career woman.

Nothing and no once could stand in your way.

Except for a certain leader of the Hellfire club.

Eddie Munson May not have known this, but you had regarded him as your sworn enemy, not because he had did irrevocably terrible damage to you in the past, but because he was simply a nuisance who kept you stressed out as you had to constantly be the one to do the assignment all by yourself whenever you had any group projects with him.

Granted, none of the others ever really helped you either, but you couldn’t shake the disdain you had for him.

Maybe it was his character, how carefree he was, his utter lack of concern for his own academic standing pissed you off to no end. You didn’t know why it bothered you so much, but you couldn’t stand the thought of someone caring so little about their own future that they would even smile whenever they got so much as a D minus.

So you could imagine the annoyance that made the vein on your forehead feel as if it were about to pop when your teacher just so happened to partner you up with none other but the metalhead himself.

After class, you had begged and pleaded with her to reassign you a new partner, going so far as to even writing her an actual letter of reconsideration.

Still, despite all your efforts of avoiding the brunet, your teacher had declined.

“You’d be a good influence in him, (y/n),” She said, placing a hand in your shoulder. “Maybe you could even tutor him with the parts of the lesson he’s having difficulty in.”

Tutor your ass, hell would have to freeze over if you ever even considered spending more time than you needed with him.

Through the interactions the two of you had in class, with your cold disposition towards him along with your curt, blunt words, Eddie caught on pretty quickly that you wanted nothing to do with him. He had figured it was because you thought he was a ‘freak’, an outcast, that you had regarded him as lowly as the other kids at school did. He put his guard up around you, matched your cold energy towards him, until the two of you barely even spoke during class when you were supposed to be doing the project together.

The deadline had started to draw ever nearer, causing you to panic inwardly as you had realized you did a part wrong, having to restart the entire project.

With the deadline only being two days away, your teacher had made it very clear that she wouldn’t be giving any late projects special considerations.

You rushed to her as soon as the bell rang.

“Ms. Warren, please reconsider, it’s just, I had to restart an entire part of the project just as I thought I was almost done with it and—“

“That’s why you should be working with your partner, (last name).” She replied sternly.

“But he hasn’t even been helping!” You exclaimed, making wild gestures with your hands.

She raises her eyebrows at Eddie. “Is that true, Munson?”

He scoffs. “I would, if she only let me.”

“That’s because you’re completely inept at anything that involves—“

“Don’t pin this on me! I’d help you if you actually even talked to me about what it is you needed help with—!”

As the two of your argue over each other, Ms. Warren pinches the bridge of her nose, sighing.

“That’s enough! Both of you.”

You both close your mouths at her scolding, darting your eyes to the side guiltily.

“Look, I will allow you both to submit your assignments up until 4 p.m. on the day that it is due, otherwise, you will both receive an F. Is that clear?”

You nod your head while Eddie mutters in agreement.

“Good. Now, please just learn to sort out your differences and try to get along, for the sake of your grades at least.”

As soon as the two of you walk out of the classroom and into the hallway, you continue arguing.

“This is all your fault.” You grumble.

“My fault? You won’t even let me look at whatever it is that you’re doing! You don’t even so much as talk to me.”

“And neither do you!”

Eddie sighs, scratching his chin in frustration. “Okay, y’know what, fine, I’ll compromise. How about we continue the project today, after school, yeah?”

You inhale deeply before exhaling slowly, calming yourself down.

“Fine.”

“So where do you live?”

“We can’t do it at my place, my parents are going to be having a party with their friends.”

“I mean, my trailer isn’t really a mansion, but..”

“It’s fine, we’ll do the assignment at your place, just stay out of my way.”

“Sounds to me like you’re getting in your own way.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Fuck you, Munson.”

He glared at you. “Well fuck you, too.”

You mutter more curses under your breath as you stomp your way over to your friends.

…

Somehow, you manage to bike your way over to his place, backpack in hand as he welcomes you in.

“We can uh, do it in my room. Sorry for the mess, the maid took the week off.”

“It’s fine.” You mutter, trying your best not to giggle at his joke. As much as you hated his guts, you couldn’t deny that he had a good sense of humor, no matter how self deprecating it may be.

You lay out the assignment on the floor, scribbling onto your notebook as Eddie sits in front of you. The room had been entirely silent the moment you came in. Being that he didn’t know what was going on because you wouldn’t tell him shit, Eddie doodles on a piece of paper.

Guilty for not being much help to you, he opens his mouth to speak. “Is there anything you need me to do, or?”

You sigh. “Just let me do the assignment, okay? I won’t rat you out if you don’t do anything, just need to keep my grades in check.”

He frowns, furrowing his eyebrows at your statement. “Why do you care so much about your grades?”

You huff, dragging your hand across your face as you paused from working. “Why do you ask so many questions?”

He scoffed as he folded his arms. “Why are you such a priss?”

“And why are you such an ass?” You fired back.

Eddie massages his temples. “Look, Ms. Warren literally just told us to sort out our differences for the sake of the assignment, just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

You rolled your eyes at him, standing up. “I don’t need your help.”

“Uh,” he starts, standing up as well. “Clearly, you do, you’ve been struggling with that for the past hour and your stress is totally bringing down my buzz.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him, shooting him a glare. “Buzz? Are you high right now?”

He shakes his head as he looks at you incredulously. “The hell is that supposed to mean? And for your information, no I am not. God, do you really think that lowly of me?”

You slam your notebook closed, dropping it to the floor as anger courses through your veins. “And what if I do? You literally spend most of your days not even attending class, so it’s not my fault that you don’t get anything.”

“It’s not that I don’t get anything, it’s just that you aren’t giving me any tasks to do— and in case you didn’t know, I’m actually a pretty smart guy.”

You snort at his words. “Could’ve fooled me.”

He scratches his neck, annoyed. “You know what, I’ve had enough of your pretentious bullshit, why don’t you get your head out of your own ass for one second and stop acting all high and mighty just ‘cause you’ve got perfect grades.”

You glowered at him, face contorting into one of disdain. “At least I’ve got good grades, at least I’m not going to wind up as some burnout without any direction in his life!”

“You don’t even fucking know me—god! Are you hearing yourself right now? You wanna know something about you that I’ve noticed because I actually have a brain? Yeah, you’re so caught up in your grades and your studies,” he flaps his fingers around, mimicking you talking as if his hand were a puppet. “That you don’t even have a fucking life.”

“Yeah, well at least I’ll actually have a life outside of Hawkins thanks to all the A’s on my report card, while you’ll be stuck at a dead end job that you’ll hate for the rest of your life.”

“There it is, folks! The high and mighty queen (y/n) has blessed us with her wise words!” He leans towards you. “Just kidding, this girl’s just a stuck up clown with a stick up her ass.”

“And you’re nothing but a lazy, good for nothing piece of shit!”

Eddie runs his hand through his hair in frustration, his eyes glaring directly into yours.

“God, can you just shut the fuck up?”

You walk closer to him, face just inches away, facial features stained with a scowl as you stare up at him defiantly. The tension between the two of you so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“Fucking make me.” You spat.

His body moves without thinking, you had pushed him as far as he could go and he lets go of any inhibitions that held him back in the past, crashing his lips onto yours.

The kiss is anything but sweet, teeth clashing as he he grabbed you by your hair to hold you in your place. Any sense of sanity leaves your brain as you return the gesture just as roughly, raking your nails on his clothed chest that were sure to leave marks the next day.

He groans against your mouth at your action, his other hand gripped your hip firmly. As he breaks away from you, a string of saliva connecting your mouths, you realize you’re panting, the mind numbing passion—no, that wasn’t the right word, this wasn’t passion, it was anger and frustration and white hot lust, all the worst things you could ever feel for a person mixed into a noxious cocktail of sorts. You couldn’t help the wetness that pooled between your legs as he looked at you with nothing but pure loathing.

Your gaze shares the same hostility, ignoring his blown out pupils that were dilated from pure lust.

Before you can even react, he pulls you by your hair, exposing your neck.

He’s quick to litter your neck with kisses, not the soft, butterfly ones you had felt on the rare occasion you ever had the chance to be with someone else, these kisses involved too much teeth, biting at your skin brashly, sucking hard enough to leave red marks along your throat.

You let out a breathy moan as he sucks on your collarbone, knees buckling as you crash onto his bed.

His hands find their way to your breasts, kneading them through your shirt as his knee settles right below your core. You buck your lips towards him, desperately.

Sensing your eagerness, he smirks agains your skin.

“You enjoying this more than you thought you would, princess?”

“Fuck you.” You breathe out.

His thumb and forefinger grips your chin as he tilts your head to look at him properly.

“Oh, you’re about to.” The arrogance in his voice somehow turns you on more than you were right now.

He glanced at you, your body, still fully clothed, silently undressing you with his eyes. A wave of confidence washes over you, and you take this chance to to slip your shirt off of yourself, exposing your lacy bra.

His eyes go wide at the sight of you, his tongue darting from his mouth to lick his lips, further boosting your ego, and for the first time since the two of you had kissed, the odds had turned to your favor.

“Like what you see, Munson?” You say, looking up at him with half lidded eyes that reminded him all too well of a siren’s stare, luring him into the depths of the sea only to drown him.

And fuck, was he ready to dive in head first.

His fingers trace your bra strap, pulling at it so that it snapped back onto your skin, making you bite your lip at him.

“Think I’d like you better down on your knees for me, darling.”

“Then why don’t you make me?” You say, mimicking the words you had uttered earlier that started it all.

He smirks at you. “As much as I’d love to have those pretty lips of yours wrapped around my cock, I’d rather make you scream my name.”

The image of him having you down on your hands and knees as he fucks you senselessly causes you to clench your thighs.

“That’s what I thought.” He nods slightly, your silence along with your flushed cheeks said it all.

He leans his head towards you once more, kissing you on your lips with the same passion, less roughly than the first time, but firm nonetheless, to show you exactly who was in control.

He kisses his way from your neck down to your chest, licking and sucking at the flesh your bra couldn’t cover. Desperate for more, you bring your hand to your back, unclasping your bra with your fingers, pulling it off of you in a hurry before throwing it to god knows where.

He smiles against your skin, loving the desperation that was written all over your face, proud of himself that somehow he had turned you into this flushed mess.

Eddie immediately got to work on your left tit, wrapping his lips around your nipple as he sucked at it roughly, his other hand had his fingers toying and flicking at your right mound.

You bit your lip to prevent any sounds from erupting from your throat. Eddie notices this immediately, giving your nipple one last suck before he released it with a loud pop.

“Don’t hold back, (y/n), wanna hear you make those pretty sounds.”

As if regaining your senses, you glare at him, tightening your lips into a thin line, no way in hell were you giving him anymore satisfaction. In truth, all you wanted was to see what he would do if you didn’t follow his orders.

He exhaled at your defiance. Fine, he thought, two can play it that game.

He grinds his jean-clad knee onto your clothed cunt rather roughly, earning a soft moan from you.

“You gonna do what I say or am I gonna have to make you?”

You smirk at him, eyes darkening. “What do you think?” You challenged.

He sucks at his teeth before twisting you around so that you laid on your stomach, your cheek hitting the mattress while he pulled you so that your legs were strewn across his lap as he sat on the edge of his bed. He flipped your skirt up so that your ass was exposed, causing your face to feel warm.

He brings his hand down onto your plush cheek, causing you to yelp. You could feel his rings as he did so, sure that they’d make a mark.

“Since you wanna act like a fucking brat, I’m gonna treat you like one, yeah? Count.”

He spanks you, causing you to jolt forward at the intensity of his blow. He snakes his arm around your waist, holding you firmly in place.

“I said count.” Came his stern voice, snapping you out of your daze, reminding you of your punishment.

“O-one.” You manage to say, meekly.

“What’s that? Didn’t quite hear you there, sweetheart. Start from the top.”

He lands yet another blow to you ass cheek, a whimper making its way out of your lips as he did so.

“One.” You say, more firmly this time.

“Atta girl.” He says, voice laced with pride as he rubs your ass. He pinched your panties so that it exposed more of your ass, causing you to let out a breath as you felt your underwear strain at your core, the bunched up cloth hitting your clit.

He continues to give you a spanking, each one harsher than the last, until your ass is red with his hand marks.

“F-fifteen.” You say as he shimmies his way out from under your legs, moving you so that you laid on your back again.

“Now,” he says, tugging his shirt off to reveal his inked skin, your eyes tracing over each of his tattoos. “You gonna be a good girl for me?”

You could only nod your head frantically at his words, too hot and bothered to care.

He smiles at you as he gets onto his knees, spreading your legs apart with his rough hands, relishing the way your plush thighs felt against his fingers.

He practically rips your skirt off of you as he slides it down to your legs, you kick it off once it reaches your ankles, and you sigh as you feel him sloppily kiss your inner thighs.

Suddenly, he presses his thumb to you clit, rubbing it through your underwear, a gasp leaving your mouth as your fingers twitched in pleasure.

“So fucking wet for me already and I barely even touched you. Did all that spanking from earlier turn you on, princess?”

You gulp, not knowing what to say as your eyes darted to the side.

He laughs at you condescendingly, giving you a light slap to your thighs.

“‘Course you did, dirty little thing.” Before you know it, his fingers are tucked into the sides of your panties, hurriedly sliding them off of your legs.

You can’t help but feel somewhat shy as you realize how utterly exposed you were. You clenched your thighs as you held your legs together, bringing your thumb to your lips to bite it nervously.

Seeing your sudden timidness, Eddie smiles up at you, genuinely, taking your hand in his while his other hand rubbed circles on your knee.

“Don’t go acting shy on me now, sweetheart,” he leans forward and trails kisses from just below your navel up until your pelvis. “You’re fucking breathtaking, y’know that?”

At the sound of his reassuring words, you slowly peel your legs apart, cunt now fully exposed for him.

“Absolutely fucking perfect, all for me, right, Angel?” He looks up at you as his fingers run up and down your slit, causing you to let out a breathy moan. “Say it, baby, I need to hear it from you.”

“All for you, Eddie.” You whimper.

“That’s right,” he says, tugging your hips towards him as he buries himself between your legs, hot breath fanning your core. “All for me, and only me.” The possessiveness in his tone makes you shudder with delight.

As soon as he utters those words he’s licking up and down at your cunt, flicking his tongue against your clit, causing yet another moan to erupt from your mouth. He wraps his lips around your sensitive bud, sucking at it so harshly it makes you see stars.

His tongue makes its way towards your entrance, lapping up your juices in delight, savoring the taste of you on his tongue as he groans at how delicious you taste.

Your hand makes its way to his hair, tugging at it from the roots, causing him to groan once more.

“You’re gonna be the fucking death of me, baby.” He mutters against your cunt before he shoves his tongue into your entrance, nodding his head as he fucks you with his tongue.

“Oh my fucking god—Eddie!” You moan loudly, panting at his actions.

He continues his ministrations against your cunt, eating you out like a starved man would his last meal on earth. Sucking, lightly nipping at your clit and running his tongue over it repeatedly like the rough rhythm to one of his metal songs. He slips one of his digits into you, then two, then three, before he pushes a fourth one in, stretching you out so deliciously that you throw your head back in pleasure. His mouth never leaves your clit as he continues to furiously fuck you with his fingers.

You arch your back as you feel the knot in your stomach start to uncurl.

“F-fuck, Eddie, Eddie, I’m close, so fucking close, wanna cum—!”

“Cum for me, pretty girl, wanna taste you.”

With his permission, you did as you were told, your pussy tightening around his fingers as your cum gushed out of you.

Eddie’s jaw goes slack as he opens his mouth, intent on slurping up all your juices until he’s swallowed it all.

Your chest heaves up and down, breathing raggedly as you slowly come down from your high.

You watch as Eddie unbuckles his belt, licking your lips as his fingers made its way to unzip his jeans. As soon as his pants fall onto the floor, he teasingly snaps the waistband of his boxers, relishing the attention he received under your hungry gaze as he slowly slips his boxers down to his thighs, his cock slapping against his stomach. He smirked as he saw drool drip from past your lips, your mouth agape at his size. You wanted nothing more than to have his cock in your mouth, thrusting deep into your throat as your spit coated his length.

But that was for another time.

He looks to you as if asking for your permission, to which you give him a small nod. He spreads your legs open even wider than before as he kneels on the bed, you shuffle backwards to allow him enough room.

He runs his tip along your folds, already red and leaking with precum. You notice the two veins that ran along the sides of his cock, and you couldn’t help but think about how it would feel for him to be inside of you already.

He continues to tease you, rubbing his tip against your sensitive clit, to which you groan in frustration at.

“I—fuck! Eddie, just fuck me already, will you?” You say, borderline screaming out at him as your frustration, your want for him builds up. It only seemed to him that you had forgotten your place, and it was his job to remind you of where you belonged.

His large hand grabs both of your cheeks easily, calloused skin against your smooth one, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“Forgetting your manners now, are we? Remember who the fuck you’re talking to.” He growls.

You swallow, a shiver crawling up your spine at his domineering tone, something entirely different from the goofy kid at the back of your class that you thought you had all figured out.

As much as your pride yelled at you to give him some sort of snide remark, to bite back with your words, you can’t help but feel small under his dominant gaze that was enough to force you into submission.

“Please,” you say hesitantly, softly. “Eddie—“

He licks his canines, the smile he directed towards you was anything but warm, almost mocking.

“Come on, baby, you can do better than that, use your big girl words and beg for me, beg for me to stuff you full with my cock.”

You whimper at his words and he senses your hesitation. Okay, he thought, your pride would be your downfall.

He put his fingers to your clit, circling it so roughly and harshly that it made your hips snap up involuntarily at his touch.

“Fucking beg for it or you don’t get to cum and I leave you here to do the job yourself. Think your fingers could ever match up to how nicely I could stretch you out, hmm, princess?”

You let out a guttural sob as he continued his ministrations on your already hypersensitive clit, and any pride you had that prevented you from losing any of your dignity dissipates as you throw all caution to the wind.

“Please Eddie, please please please, I need you, need you inside me so bad, wanna feel you, wanna feel all of you—“

He takes his hand away from your clit, and you almost cry at the loss of his touch before he patted you on your cheek.

“That’s a good girl, doing exactly what I tell her to.” And with that, he slides into you with ease given how soaked you were, your own essence acting as a natural lubricant for him.

Your eyes practically roll to back of your head as he finally bottoms out inside of you, hissing at how tightly your cunt gripped his cock.

“So fucking tight for me, baby. Such a good fucking slut.”

He thrusts into you, slowly, testing out the waters first before he hears you groan yet again.

“Please, fuck me faster, Eddie. Want you, wanna cum all over your cock.”

After enduring his punishment and all his teasing, taking it all like a champ, who was he to refuse his good little girl?

His hips meet yours as he picks up his pace, throwing both your legs over his shoulders, still spread out nicely for him, letting him gain more access to your cunt as he fucked into you even deeper. Soon enough, you were a moaning mess under him. You reach up to rake your fingers across his now bare chest just like you did earlier, digging your nails into his skin as you did so. He lets out a groan as the sting from your nails mixes with the pleasure of your cunt that clenched around him.

He chuckles darkly as his hand wraps around your throat, you shiver at the coldness of the silver rings he wore around his fingers. “Yeah, that’s right, fucking take it like the good girl you are,” he snaps his hips towards yours once more, hitting that soft, spongy spot inside you that made your toes curl and a loud moan involuntarily make its way out of your mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry, turns out you aren’t the good girl you make yourself out to be, huh? Nothing but a filthy little slut with her legs spread wide open all for me.”

You can’t help but let out an even louder moan at his words, your mind filled with nothing but thoughts about him, how good he was making you feel.

The pleasure had started to overwhelm you, especially when his fingers found their way towards your clit, rubbing it in circles once more and you cry out in pleasure.

“Yeah, fuck—yes, good fucking girl, taking me so well.” His praise directed towards you, despite how condescending it sounded, made you mewl as your mind went blank with the immense pleasure he was giving you.

Noticing the fucked out expression on your face, Eddie props his hand against the head board.

“You getting all fucked out now, hmm? How you feeling baby? Y’like getting fucked stupid by my cock?”

“Feels so good,” you pant, barely even able to put your words together. “So fucking big, Eddie, love your thick cock so much, stretching me out so fucking good.”

He smirks at you, grabbing one of your tits in his hand, fingers flicking and pinching your hardened nipple.

“That’s fucking right, my fat cock stretching that pussy out so—shit, so fucking good for ya. Fucking you like how you want because you’ve been a good girl, yeah? My good fucking girl.”

All you do is hum and nod at his words as you look at him with half lidded eyes, smiling at his praise.

“Open up that pretty mouth of yours, baby.” He commands, and you do so obediently, lips spread apart for him to spit into, a glob of saliva landing on your tongue. You swallow, without even him telling you to, and his chest swells with pride as he realized what he had turned you into: a slut, a whore for his cock, for him and only him.

As he continues his brutal pace, pounding into you so deeply, continually hitting that spot within yourself that made you see stars, you could feel your orgasm approaching.

“So close, Eds, so fucking close, a-ah! Please, please, make me cum, Eddie, wanna cum for you so bad, wanna be your good girl, Eddie. Please please please—“

You didn’t even know what you were saying anymore as you babbled mindlessly, desperate for a release. Eddie continues to play with your clit, his thrusts becoming erratic now, intent on making you cum, making you feel the greatest pleasure you had ever felt in your entire life.

"Yeah, that's it baby, let go for me. Cum for me."

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck, Eddie! Eddie, Eddie—“ you continue to chant his name like a prayer despite all the unholy things the two of you were doing, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull, tongue lolling out of your mouth as you finally let go, juices gushing from your cunt and making a mess on the bed.

You shuddered as your high began its slow descent, regaining somewhat of your consciousness as you looked up at Eddie, his eyes glued to where you and him met.

You cups his cheeks, causing his gaze to fall upon you, your eyes soft and lips slightly ajar, his once domineering gaze softened at the sight of you below him.

He groaned, sensing that he was close.

“I—fuck, come on, princess, where do you want it?”

You smile softly as you stroke his cheek with your thumb. “Inside me.”

He looks at you, somewhat surprised, his thrusts slowly become more sloppy by the minute.

“You sure about that, (y/n)?”

You nod at him, hands never leaving his face as you brought him closer to you, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I’m on the pill, it’s okay.”

God fucking bless the feminist movement.

“Come on, Eddie, cum for me, want you to fill me up, wanna feel how warm your cum would be inside me.”

With your words of encouragement, Eddie’s entire body tenses as he let out a low groan, releasing inside of you, thick ropes of cum spilling deep inside your cunt. As he pulled out, he couldn’t help but stare as your hole clenched around nothing, his white, sticky cum leaking from your pussy.

Exhausted, he falls down onto the bed beside you, snaking an arm around your waist as you lean into his touch, you shift so you laid on your side, resting your head atop his bicep as you trace patterns onto his chest.

Eddie exhales, brushing your hair from your sweaty forehead, his fingers making their way down your face to trace your jawline.

As the two of you lay there, utterly exhausted from fucking like rabbits, you can’t help but stare up at him with affection, his warm brown eyes staring you with the same care. You lean your head towards him, and he does the same, until your lips meet in a kiss.

This time, the kiss you two shared was soft, gentle, loving even. You pull away from him, breathless.

“There goes the line of straight A’s on my report card.” You huff.

Eddie rubs your shoulder affectionately. “Don’t worry, we’ll work on it tomorrow, we have time.”

Any of the past anxieties you had over your grades ceases as you lay in his arms, safe and comfortable, all your troubles far away.

“I’m sorry,” you say, earnestly. “For all the things I said to you earlier, you were right, I can be a bit of a control freak sometimes.”

“A bit?”

You flick his forehead.

“Ow! Joking, kidding, I’m joking,” he says with a smile as you tuck your head into the spot his neck and shoulder met. “I’m sorry too, for calling you all sorts of mean things.”

“Before or after sex?”

He pinched your nose, earning a laugh from you as you push his hand away.

“See? I can joke around too, I’m not stuck up.”

He intertwines his fingers with yours, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

“Yeah, you’re not.”

A moment of tender silence passes by the both of you as you gaze at each other affectionately.

“You know,” Eddie says, scratching his chin. “I’ve had a crush on you since like, freshman year.”

You furrow your eyebrows as you cringe at his words. “Seriously? That was the awkwardest year of my life, how did you ever manage to form a crush on me then?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, smiling at you. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad. I found you cute, braces, nerdiness, and all.”

You chuckle, nudging him gently. “Well, y’know, can’t deny that I found you cute myself, right when you walked into class.”

He laughs at your admission. “What? Lil ol’ me with my band t-shirts and ripped jeans?”

You peck him on the lips. “Exactly you with your wild hair and pretty doe eyes.”

He can’t help the affection that seemed to overflow from his chest as he kissed you all over your face, from your forehead to your nose to both your cheeks to the corners of your mouth to your jaw to your neck. You giggle as he showers you with affection.

As much as you could stay in his arms forever, you can’t.

You prop yourself up on your elbows before you stand, stumbling a bit as you do, to which Eddie responds by swiftly holding out his hand to steady you, still on the bed.

“Where are you going?”

You smile at him, kissing his knuckles.

“Need to pee.” You reply before slowly hobbling your way out his room, gripping whatever you could to keep yourself from falling.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Munson, what did you do to me?”

He laughs heartily, the sound causes your heart to flutter.

“Nothing that you didn’t want, princess.” He winks.

Piss Off Your Parents

Piss Off Your Parents Ship: BadBoy!Jungkook | RichGirl!Reader Description: Roommates!AU | BadBoy!AU | FakeDating!AU | In an effort to piss off your parents you move in with their worst nightmare- a boy with tattoos, a rock band, and an irresistible charm. Warnings: Dom!JK, Daddy Kink, D/S Themes, Spanking, Pussy Spanking, Intercourse, Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Creampie, Fingering, Oral, Multiple Orgasms, Squirting, Size Kink, Hair Pulling, Praise Kink, Lots of Pet Names, Angst, Fluff, Drug Use (it’s just weed) Word Count: 16,411 A/N: Based on the song 18 by Anarbor! This ends my hiatus! I’ve been writing this for literal months so I hope you guys like it. Happy Early 3rd Year Anniversary!

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john, johnny seo (m)

Pulling his legs up on the couch, he wraps himself up in a ball, chin resting atop his knees. There’s a cool breeze passing through the living room from the balcony where Mark and Haechan jump around, helping you put up washing. You always call on them at times like these, their energy tenfold that of their hyungs and most importantly, their willingness to help. He hears you yelp as Haechan drops a white pillow case, quickly warning him about playing around with Taeyong’s linens and he apologises just as fast. Mark sniggers just out of your view, Haechan sticks out his tongue. Then you’re all laughing again, the two of them handing you sheets then running back inside as you slide the balcony door shut.

Your gaze doesn’t even pass Johnny’s as you sit, wedged between the couch’s arm and Jaehyun, shifting as you make room for Jungwoo, who rushes to sit on the ground between your legs. He practically purs at your touch, the back of his head resting on your knee as you scratch his scalp, sending him to sleep in mere seconds. Jaehyun just leans into you, his freshly washed hair flicking cold drops on you when you push him off, he flinches at the obvious threat in your eye. When he pouts in apology, your lips purse, holding back a grin as he offers you one, pushing his hair back before you finally let him relax into you again.

A few moments pass before you ask Doyoung to explain the plot of the drama he’s watching, unfamiliar with it though interested. Usually annoyed by interruptions, Johnny suspects he’ll refuse. But to his surprise, Doyoung pauses it, divulging everything he can conjure from his memory alone before rewinding through the current episode to give you context, names, settings. Johnny loves how engrossed you are in what Doyoung’s saying. How your hands never cease scratching Jungwoo’s scalp, how you keep the motion steady as your jaw drops, giving small nods as you follow his narrative, the drama astounding you.

You ask if you can watch too, and this is when Yuta interrupts, talking about football starting soon and Doyoung having already hogged the television this week. A fight for the controller breaks out. Nothing too crazy but you’re mindful of a sleeping Taeyong, his balled up figure not far from where Johnny sits. A hush falls over the room when you silence them, their eyes journeying to his dozing frame before they give up, offering you the remote. With a tilt of your head, you gesture towards Taeil, who just hovers behind the couch, unbothered.

This was a regular non-work day in the 127 household. The world spinning, life continuing. There’s so much domesticity here, and that makes life all the more enjoyable. Johnny thinks you have had something to do with that. How you dote on Haechan yet still see through his charm. How you care for Mark, and praise him constantly. How you pamper Jungwoo, your gentle touch settling him. How you challenge Jaehyun yet soothe him with your words. How Doyoung can confide in you, his every thought yours for the taking. How Yuta crumbles for you and gives you your way. How Taeyong finds peace in you and safety in your nurturing. How Taeil has an ally in you, a companion, a friend.

And Johnny?

He didn’t really know. You cared for him deeply. He knew that. Not the way you did everyone else, just in the way you trusted him. To step up when he had to. Whether it be caring for the youngest or shouldering responsibility for the eldest. You’d begun to rely on Johnny how you didn’t anyone else. But that didn’t mean he didn’t need you like they did. Sure, Johnny could take care of himself and everyone else. He found joy in being someone they needed, in being their support. But, there are days where he too craves your soft touch and praise. Where he wants to lay his head on the soft skin of your thighs and feel your hands in his hair, a song filling the air as you stroke the expanse of his cheeks, a finger trailing the highest points of them before you leave a soft kiss.

Johnny wants your attention. He craves it. Like the rest do but so much more. He wants you to look for him in a room of people and go to him. He wants you to be his refuge. He wants you.

“John?” But for starters, he wants you to call him Johnny. “Hey, are you okay?”

It’s nearing midnight and he’s standing in the center of your room, while you hover at your door. When he doesn’t say anything, you approach him, closing the door behind you. He slept in here when you were off on a schedule and he forgot his charger. He’s holding it in one hand while his other inspects a photo, it’s of the members - minus him.

“Noona, why don’t you like me?”

You don’t think you hear him right—no. You definitely didn’t. So you walk around him to find he’s crestfallen, a frown you can’t stand the sight of taking his face. “What do you mean?”

“Like the others. You don’t treat me like them.”

You look at the picture and immediately return to that day. You’d all been walking the streets of LA, the sun was high but so were your spirits. You remember his camera never once left his hand, always snapping shots of you all. He’d been the one to take the photo. That’s why you loved it. He captured you all so well, his eye for lighting and skilful focus. Johnny did everything so well. It was hard to believe you were his senior. He had always been just that bit better than you in every way and yet, it’s only now you’re seeing what that is doing to him.

“You treat the members like you love them more than me.” The idea he felt less loved by you made your breath shake, his eyes still not meeting yours. “Do you not care about me?”

“How can you say that?” He looks up then, the hurt on your face making him regret it instantly.

“You don’t talk to me like you talk to them. You don’t even call me Johnny. You don’t play with me or hang out with me. You never ask me to do anything or want my help at home. It’s like I don’t even exist.” He doesn’t realise this all upsets him until now. Now he sees a version of the group without him. A version that you might see in your mind. “Am I just your colleague?”

“Johnny.” He doesn’t think you’ve ever scolded him. Not once. He hates it. “Don’t. Don’t ever say that.” He’s hot under your gaze. The way your brows crease, the anger in your eyes. He doesn’t know at what. At him, yourself. But he can’t lie, the attention is nice. “Of course you aren’t. You’re so much more than that.”

“Then why?” It’s barely even a whisper, but you hear him, the want. The need. “Do you think I don’t need you like they do? That I don’t need you to hold me when I’m sad? To t-touch me?”

This isn’t Johnny. Not the one you’re used to. The loud, boisterous Johnny who, and though now you think you’re wrong, is immovable. Independent Johnny, who you wished and prayed to be more like than anyone. Johnny who you envied for his resilience and his drive. Johnny who intimidated you for so long. He saw the good in literally everything. It drove you a little insane, the idea you’d never meet his standard. That there existed someone so impenetrable, you would always be lesser.

But then, maybe that was never Johnny. That was the Johnny you made him out to be. The Johnny you unknowingly pushed him to be. The Johnny he thought you needed. That was John.

This is is Johnny.

Johnny’s eyes bore into yours. They’re pained and so frighteningly lonely yet so breathtaking. As if there’s been so much behind them and your forced image and expectation of him kept it there. If you dwell on it too much, it might crush you beyond repair. So you rid yourself of it. The idea this was a man who could carry the weight of the world because he merely acted like he could. You forget what you thought. You just accept what you see.

Johnny needs you.

You raise a careful hand to his cheek, shocked by how quickly he responds. He nuzzles into your open palm, shuddering breaths leaving him as he sinks into your touch. It’s a sight to behold. The skin that smooths between his brow, the slight lift of the corners of his mouth. You feel like you’re like this for hours, your arm grows tired. Your heart constricts when you pull it away and he whimpers, his hands twitching at his sides as if he wanted to stop you.

“It’s okay.” You whisper, his eyes following you as you move to your bed. “Can we sit down?” He just follows you, the bed dipping on your left as you watch him sit. “Johnny?” He turns, his eyes following as you lay down. “Do you want to cuddle?”

He nods then, embarrassment filtering in at the idea. Had you really never done this with him? You shake your head, happy to have it happen at long last. You pull his head to your chest, his arms loop around your middle so naturally you wonder if you’d been mistaken. Until his legs do the same, winding with yours. The feeling is unfamiliar though welcomed. How thick his thighs feel between your own, how long his limbs are. He is undoubtedly huge yet he fits so perfectly around you, you can’t help but think you were made to be his comfort. He squeezes you tighter as you shift, your giggles filling the air as he nuzzles himself further into your breasts. This isn’t new for you. It was awkward in the early days, but it’s far from that now.

Running your fingers through his hair, you giggle as he groans, the deep rumbles are again, nothing new.

You offer a slight tug for his attention, thinking it might be about time to talk. To acknowledge your mistakes.

It’s now you realise how new this is for him. How his cheeks flush against your chest and hands on your hips are brand new sensations for him. Your dull nails scratching along his scalp and gentle snag on the ends. They all make his eyes hooded, his breaths a bit ragged as he gulps, looking up at you. “Sorry.” You immediately know what he’s sorry for. It’s pressing on your thigh. It’s firm and painfully obvious. You just smile, stroking a thumb along his cheek and staring into his eyes.

“It’s okay, Johnny.” He thinks you might be an angel. How gentle you are, how understanding. But he thinks you might be fallen when you ask him, “Do you want me to take care of it?”

He should say no. You’d done everything he needed and more. He hadn’t meant he needs you for this. This is more of a want. This isn’t something he needs but it’s what he’s always wanted. And he knows it’s stupid, he knows you just feel bad and he knows it’s desperate. He knows he’ll hate himself. That blurring the lines between you any further won’t satisfy him. But you’re here, waiting, with kind eyes that hold him captive. Your fingers still card through his hair, moving it out the way for you to get a better look at him. No. You’re not just looking at him. You’re seeing him. It’s all he ever wanted. He decides he likes getting what he wants.

His nod is ever so slight, you only see it because of how attentive you are to him. You feel it in your hands, the small shift in his neck. You hear it in the sheets, the fabric moving with him. He watches you smile at him, your offer no longer hanging in the air though the insinuation does. He’s scared he missed your point, frightened he’d messed this up. But then your eyes drift. And you’re not just watching him, but staring. At his lips. The small part in them, where he draws small, careful breaths. And you’re moving, bringing yours to his in a kiss so soft, he can’t help but flinch. At how fragile you think him to be. How differently you see him now.

“I won’t break you know.” He teases with a small laugh, his hands gripping your hips a tiny bit harder, as if showing you the force he could handle. “I can take it.”

“Johnny,” his smile falls slightly, noting the hints of sadness in your eyes. “I’m sorry I put so much pressure on you. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you.” He doesn’t want to cry. He isn’t broken. He’s just lonely. But then your voice cracks and he thinks he just might. “I want to show you I’m sorry. I-I want to be what you need.”

That’s all he wants. But he can’t help feel overwhelmed by the affection. The intimacy he’s wanted for so long, pouring out of you like a faucet. He trusts you though. That you’ll take good care of him. That you’d know what he wants. That he’d be in the safest hands. So he nods as he leans in, his hunger cloaked by desperation as his lips mould with yours, your hands cupping his cheeks, fingers scratching his nape. A groan rumbles in him, pouring into your mouth as you press your thigh to his crotch, pulling back to watch his jaw clench. He watches your eyes fall to the space between you, his hips circling into your thigh as he watches you intently, his lip caught painfully between his teeth. He’s surprised when you moan at his actions, his pace slowly building before you stop him.

“Use me.” He’s lost because that’s already what he’s doing. “Use me, Johnny. Fuck me.” He doesn’t believe you. Not until you’re practically begging. “I-I want to help you. I want to be what you need. Fuck me. Please.” You press your forehead to his, fingers still digging into his hips, you’re so close his eyes cross. He sees the lust in your gaze though, it’s almost lethal. “You can use me. Please use me.”

Not a single part of him is torn. He’s practically trembling in anticipation at the thought, his hands scramble to free you of your shorts, stripping you in one swift motion, freeing himself nearly as quickly. He pauses as he sees holiness if your gaze, a reverence reflected back in your eyes. You nearly quiver, the once omnipotent being bared out for you. His hooded eyes and flushed cheeks. His leaking tip, twitching as you reach out to stroke your fingers along his abdomen. He nearly giggles at your touch, earning a soft one from you.

“You’ve always been so good for me, John.” He frowns, scared that is no longer the case. “Let me be good for you now.”

He leans down then, a hand balancing him beside your head, the other pumping him a few times. The feeling of your fingers on his skin is heavenly. How you squeeze his shoulders and stroke down his arms. Never a misplaced pressure. Your touch is planned yet free, your hands passing over the expanse of his back, enjoying the feel of him beneath your palms.

“You feel so good,” you whisper, his breath hitching. “You’re so good to me, Johnny. Thank you,” He presses his forehead to yours again, his nose rubbing against yours as you gaze up at him. “My perfect Johnny.” He kisses you to hide his blush, though the heat beneath your hands is a give away. “My perfect boy.”

He’s beaming. It’s the prettiest sight you’ve ever seen and you want to scream because you could’ve seen this all along. You could’ve made Johnny so happy and saved him the pain of—

“Don’t do that,” he says, seeing the regret in your eyes. “Forget about it. You know now.”

You do. And it dulls the pain for a moment, and his kiss numbs it but his cock sliding into you, wrapped snuggly in your slick walls, banishes it. You can think of nothing else. Nothing but the delicious sounds he fills your ears with. The grunts that pour out of him as you clamp around him. The kisses he peppers your lips with, his mind full of you.

“Can I ask you something?” He asks anyway, lips now concentrating on yours, his hips still. You nod, eager to please. “Where should I come?”

“Wherever you want.”

He’s in love. He ignores the brief thought as he tucks his arms under yours, craddling your head so he can rest his body on you, your chest heavy though your vision fills with him. His hips roll without warning. He moves them in small circles, his lips moving in time with yours, tongues tangle together. He deepens the kiss every time you whimper, the sound urging on his thrusts, the intimate winds of his hips abandoned as you scratched down his back, your hands squeezing his ass, pulling him further into you. Your lips slack as his thrusts increase in speed, the sound of skin slapping skin fills the room along with your whines. He isn’t muffling them anymore, he’s watching you. How your jaw hangs open, letting your whimpers pour out. With a small change in his angle, your eyes screw shut, making it harder for you to take his thrusts. He rises to lean on his hands, snapping his hips rapidly into you, his tip hitting the spot that has you crying out for him, all other sounds erased from his memory at the sound of that. John falls from your lips as you struggle to hold on. John trapped behind a moan as his thumb circles around your clit. John crawls its way up your throat before you open your eyes at his request, only to see him.

Johnny.

Who snaps into you for the final time as he lets go, his seed spilling into you. He fills you completely as you milk him, the walls of your cunt coated in your mingling arousal as you clamp around him, refusing to let him go. Not that he wants out. So you both just stay like this, his wet forehead pressed against yours, the air in the room cold on your damp skin.

You blink away the fatigue so you can see him, sighing contentedly when he beams down at you. You’ve seen him smile like this, but never at you. You want to see it always. “You okay?” He asks, wiping your forehead dry.

Nodding, you do the same, finding your palms just as wet. But yes, you are okay. And so is he.