#Calahan Skogman smut

[ashbrat488]

Ashbrat488 Fanfic Masterlist

Chris Evans

Ransom Drysdale - State of Grace - Complete

Grace Carson was friends with Ransom Drysdale throughout school. Best friends actually, but only in private, their friendship breaking apart after graduation. She went to college, coming back to Boston to work at Harlan's publishing company as an editor. But when Harlan dies, she's thrown back into Ransom's life at the bequest of Harlan himself. Will they be able to get along well enough to carry out Harlan's wishes or will their differences just be too much, leaving Ransom without his inheritance.

Henry Cavill

Henry Cavill AU - Foul Play - Complete

Millicent "Milly" Bailey loses her mother just before her high school graduation and decides to move to England with her newly found father, Darren, she didn't know about until she turned 16. Now she's an American from a small town in Iowa, thrown into a new country and a new culture at one of the most prestigious colleges in the world. She's quiet and mostly likes to keep to herself until she catches the eye of a handsome rugby player, Henry Cavill. Henry thinks it's funny to tease Milly, bullying her with the help of his friends. That is until his last year of school where he really needs to buckle down and obtain the proper grades if he wants to be scouted for the England Rugby Team. Neither of them are happy when the dean, Milly's father, puts them together in their last year for Milly to help him graduate. Can they learn to see eye to eye and get along or will everything fall apart before graduation?

Captain Syverson - Flower In The Desert - Complete

Violet Becker is the daughter of the Major General, and despite her ranking, she refuses special treatment when she gets sent to the middle east in the midst of war. Constantly underestimated her whole life, she finishes medical school and is itching to put her new skills to work. She is left under the command of Edward Syverson who has sworn to her father to protect her. Can he keep his promise or is having to take care of a woman in the middle of a warzone too much for even him?

August Walker - Candy - Ongoing

August Walker, the CEO of a renowned Security Firm located in the bustling streets of Washington DC. His life is a constant juggling act, burdened by the weight of stressful responsibilities. The strain on his marriage is palpable, with his relationship barely holding itself together. However, he remains tethered to his wife primarily for the sake of their son, whom he adores dearly. To find solace amidst the chaos, August forms a unique bond with an escort who goes by the name "Candy." Their clandestine meetings become a refuge for him, an escape from the pressures of his daily existence. For over nine months, their encounters grow in frequency, and August finds himself becoming increasingly possessive of Candy's time, although he strives to keep their interactions as casual as she desires. However, their relationship takes an unexpected turn when August accidentally discovers Candy's true identity. Intrigued by this revelation, he begins to interfere in her life and even meddles in the affairs of her boyfriend, who coincidentally works for him. As August's feelings deepen, he wrestles with the idea of whether he can make Candy choose him over her current life.

Drabbles

Calahan Skogman (Baseball AU) - Sliding Into Home

Sebastian Stan AU - Hope In Love

Bucky Barnes - Torn Pages

Cole Turner (Chris Evans) - Codename: Turtledove

Ransom Drysdale - Speak Now

Steve Rogers - Happy Birthday Captain

Jake Jensen - Dessert

Ari Levinson/Steve Rogers MFM - Pure Smut

Lloyd Hansen/August Walker MFM - Pure Smut

Sherlock (Henry Cavill) - Sherlock And His Cane

Ewan McGregor - Better Than Revenge

Author's Note: I only write for readers over 18. I write a lot of smut. Please do not engage or read if you are under 18. I *do* take requests... I also have a lot more stories on Wattpad (including a lot of Chris Evans) if you would like to check them out there.

Also, all my female characters are always original. No, I do not write y/n or reader stories. I prefer to create actual characters. Just my preference

[wesper-ao3feed]

A love letter to the crows 2024

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Nk8zGPn by A_Sleep_Deprived_Darklina_Author (A_Sleep_Deprived_Author) My version of SOC a love letter to the crows challenge February 8th: firsts - Kanej February 9th: confessions/letters - Helnik February 10th: meet-cute - Helnik February 11th: Flower language - Wesper February 12th: proposals/weddings - Kanej February 13th: will you be my valentine - Helnik February 14th: free prompt (a thank you to the crows) - no ship Words: 581, Chapters: 1/6, Language: English Fandoms: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Categories: F/M, M/M Characters: Matthias Helvar, Nina Zenik, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck, Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Marya Hendriks, Jack Wolfe (Actor), Kit Young, Amita Suman, Freddy Carter, Danielle Galligan, Calahan Skogman Relationships: Matthias Helvar/Nina Zenik, Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck, Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa, Jesper Fahey & Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker & Jesper Fahey Additional Tags: Angst, Spoilers, Hurt/Comfort, Shadow and bone and six of crows spoilers, Book Spoilers, and TV spoilers, Mostly Cannon Compliant, But not always, Blood and Injury, Missions Gone Wrong, Idiots in Love, Denial, Kazzle Dazzle being a simp, Jesper third wheeling, Prison, Implied Sex Trafficking, but no smut, Letters, Love Letters, abuse of inmates, Love Confessions, failed confessions, Hurt Matthias Helvar, Matthias Helvar Lives, Wait no he doesn’t, did I mention denial?, A love letter to the crows, Kidnapping, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Falling In Love, Implied/Referenced Torture, Starving, Threats, unjust law systems, Drüskelle (Six of Crows), because they need their own tag, Flowers, Jesper Fahey Loves Wylan Van Eck, Wylan Van Eck Loves Jesper Fahey, Merchling is a term of endearment, Fluff, failed proposals, Kaz Brekker Loves Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker Needs a Hug, but he’d stab me if I tried, One-Sided Attraction, but not really, thank you letter, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Hurt No Comfort, Nina Zenik needs a hug, Crying, valentine’s angst, Character Death, I swear this was supposed to be happy but oh well, No beta we die like Matthias read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Nk8zGPn

[george-mackay-macfine]

Let's play a game

A/N - Who remembers the snippet I posted ages ago with the bad boy / good girl. Well, I finally did something with it.

Please enjoy, Chapter one.

The warmth of the sun was the first thing I felt when I woke up, coating me in a blanket of warmth. It was too much warmth, and I was rapidly becoming uncomfortably hot. The second was the throbbing in my head, undoubtedly brought on by all the alcohol I had consumed the night before. And the third was the heavyweight of an arm across my torso. Who did the arm belong to? Well, to be honest, I wasn’t quite sure.

“Shit,” I whispered, cautiously turning on the plush bed, careful to not startle the owner of the arm that lay all too casually around my waist. “Shit, shit.” I moved the arm carefully off my waist, putting it beside its owner.

The owner of the arm was none other than Jude Hastings, the boy I’d known since I was eight, and the boy who’d mercilessly teased me throughout school and somewhat into our adult lives.

People, primarily our parents, often called it teasing— a bit of harmless flirting between an adolescent boy and a dorky adolescent girl, so they said. I, on the other hand, referred to it as warfare.

Which would lead to a lifelong war between Jude Hastings and me.

“Fuck,” I stood from the bed and looked down at what was covering my body… It wasn’t much. All I had on was what I’m assuming was Hastings’ button-down shirt, and that was it. No bra, no pants… And I had no clue where my underwear had gotten to. “Pull yourself together, Darcy,” I whispered to myself. “Just find your shit and get out.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, taking five deep breaths. My mother always told me it was a way to destress, but guess what, mom, I am still stressed. “Okay. Pull it together.” I had seven things I had to find in this apartment, and hopefully, it was all contained to this one room. Anything I couldn’t uncover would just have to be left as a sacrifice to the apartment demon.

My pants and top were the easiest to find, laying at the end of the bed a dead giveaway of where Hastings and I had ended our night standing, or at least standing for the most part. I vaguely recall him pulling me off the bed just to bend me over the desk he had pushed against the wall… I guess that counts as sort of standing.

“Jacket…” I crept around the room, trying to find where my favourite corduroy jacket had landed in the thralls of passion I had shared with the still sleeping demon. “Gotcha,” I pulled on the sleeve bringing it out from behind the chair that sat pushed into the corner. Another memory of Hastings and I making out on the very chair flashed through my mind bringing a blush hot enough to make the top of my ears burn. “Shoes, bra and underwear,” I sat on the floor, pulling my jacket over my arms looking around for a sign of any of the missing clothing. I quickly spotted my bra hanging over the bedpost at the top end of the bed. “Ahha.” I pushed up from the floor and padded across the carpet, keeping a keen eye on Hastings to make sure he didn’t suddenly wake up and catch me in the shameful morning after clothes collection. If I was lucky, I’d leave with all my belongings and whatever scraps of dignity I had left. “Four down, three left.” I scooped the bra off the bedpost and shoved it in my pocket. Watching Hastings, I dropped to my knees and looked underneath the bed in hopes of finding at least one of the remaining items, if not all of them. “Shoes.” I gripped the heel on one of my boots and pulled it towards me, half an item down… The second boot was more brutal to get to. I had to crawl at least halfway under the bed to reach it, somehow it had landed so far underneath the bed last night, but at least now I had shoes to wear for my solemn journey home.

Was underwear really that necessary for a journey home? Could I just leave without them? And my purse, I mean, I’m sure any decent human being with any dignity would give it back to someone who’d left it at their house. Still, then again, this was Jude Alexander Hastings we were talking about. He wasn’t known to me for being a decent human being. Besides, cancelling all my credit cards and getting a new I.D sounded a lot more appealing than risking Hastings waking up with me still inside his apartment with minimal clothing.

“Fuck it.” I army crawled backwards out from under the bed, careful not to get any carpet burns on any delicate parts. Trust me, one time of having sex on some carpet, and you know the pain well enough to not do it again. Once I emerged from the pits of the bed, I took a final look around, trying to find the elusive underwear or purse. “Note to self, cancel the credit card.” I stood up and walked to the pile of items I’d begun to form at the end of the bed: pants, top, bra, shoes and jacket. Five out of seven ain’t bad in the grand scheme of things. I mean, was it my favourite purse? Yes, and were they my favourite pair of lucky underwear? Yes. Could I buy more to avoid any further interactions with Jude Hastings? Fuck yes.

“Missing something?” The husky voice that haunted my alcohol-soaked brain startled me into dropping my pants to the floor. I spun on the ball of my feet and looked at him, lazily lying in his bed. The sheet hanging from his waist was the demon man himself. Since when did he have abs? - No, not the point, Darcy.

“Two things actually,” I felt the rush of heat blossoming on my cheeks as I finally allowed myself to look over his bare chest.

“Would these be one of them?” His hand rose, hooked around his pointer finger was my black lace thong, the one I’d been crawling around this whole fucking room looking for. Bastard. “They sure look like yours.” He held the up higher, squinting with one eye.

“If they’re not mine, perhaps they’re yours,” I smirked in self-satisfaction as the smirk on his face faltered. One Edwards.

“Well, if you’re sure they’re not yours.” He bunched them up, leaning over to his bedside table. “I think I’ll keep them then.”

“Wait.” I yelped, springing onto the bed. “Give them to me,” I reached for them. Holding my hand out, waiting for the lace scrap to be returned to me. “I need them to get home.”

“No, I don’t think so.” He dropped them into his bedside table. “You said they were mine.” One Hastings.

“God, I hate you,” My eyes turned to slits as the smirk came back to his face more prominent than the one I’d managed to make him lose moments ago. He shut the drawer and returned to his previous position, his whisky coloured eyes running over my form.

“Not what you were saying last night.”

“Was that before the double shots of tequila? Or was it before the fishbowl margarita?” I moved back, standing at the end of the bed, pulling my pants up over my hips. Usually, I’d feel self-conscious dressing and undressing in front of someone I’d just had sex with. Still, by this point in our lives, Hastings had already made numerous comments about how ‘plump’ I was, as he liked to call it. I didn’t have time to dwell on the idea that I gave him a front-row pass to see how correct his childish name-calling was. “Or maybe it was before the game of beer pong?”

“Yeah,” He dropped his head and laughed. “It started about there.”

“Hastings, you know as well as I do that I don’t remember a thing about last night, right?”

“Would you like me to give you a play-by-play?” I unbuttoned his shirt with nimble fingers. For once, my skill of unbuttoning button-downs came in use.

“No, thanks. I think I can surmise what’s happened from the lack of underwear.” And the memories of him pushing me up against his front door helped with the overall picture.

“It was your idea,” I stole a look at the bedside table where the same old alarm clock I was sure he’d had since middle school sat. Nine-thirty. Shit. Fuck. Shit.

“Was it now?” I didn’t really have time to hear how this interaction was my fault, but I was curious. Even if I was supposed to be meeting my parents for brunch in half an hour, and by the looks of it, I was going to have to suffer through without underwear.

“Oh yeah.” He fell back onto the bed. “The boys and I were at the bar, and you came up to me… You know I was expecting to have another verbal sparring match with you, one I’d ultimately win.”

“Doubtful,”

“When you began to flirt with me.” I could hear the smirk in his voice even with my back facing him.

“Is that so.” I sat on the edge of the bed and picked up one of my boots, unzipping the side.

“Oh yeah,” I heard the shuffle of sheets on the bed behind me and then felt the warmth of his chest pressing onto my covered back, heat radiating from where his skin touched me. “Never expected this from you, Edwards.” He moved my hair to the side, his fingers leaving goosebumps on my neck as he trailed a fingertip along the skin. “Really, I never did.” His lips touched the skin now, ghosting the same pattern his fingertips had traced.

“Alright,” I stood up, balancing on one foot as I tried to shove my foot into the boot. “I don’t know what this.” I wiggled a finger between our bodies. “Is, but last night was all there was. There will be no encore, M’kay.” I knelt down, zipping up the boot before shoving my foot into the second.

“If you’re sure you can live without one.” He moved back to the top of the bed, leaning back on one arm, watching me scamper to make myself presentable. “You know you’re still wearing my shirt.”

“Thank you, Captain obvious.”

“I’d like it back. It’s one of my favourites.”

“And those.” I jutted a finger at the bedside table where my underwear remained captive. “Were my favourite pair of underwear.” I smiled sweetly at him. “So we’ll call it even,” I brushed my hair with my fingers, trying to make some sort of progress with it so it didn’t look like I’d just been to pound town… which apparently from the ache in my legs I had been.

“You know that’s not helping,”

“What isn’t.”

“Trying to make yourself look like you haven’t just had one of the best nights of your life.”

“Bold of you to assume that,”

“Not an assumption. You told me so much yourself last night.”

Fucking Hastings. That’s it, fuck it. I was getting my underwear back. Even if it meant a small game of seduction.

“Look, Jude.” I let my voice drop into a whisper as I walked towards where he lay comfortably. I flung my legs over his body, straddling his waist. I couldn’t help but internally melt when his hands clinging to my waist, pressing me down onto him. I’m human. What can I say? The thin sheet gave everything away, and I had to admit, Hastings was packing more than I thought. Self-satisfaction flowed through me as I saw his eyes widen slightly, his pupils dilating as his fingers moving in circles on my waist. “I want you to know something about last night.” His eyes locked with mine as my right hand held onto his chin, keeping our eyes locked, my left going to the bedside table quietly pulling it open.

“Yeah?” His Adam’s apple bopped as he swallowed.

“Last night was,” I moved his head, so he was looking away from the drawer as my hand began to search for the fabric. “Was something that I…” My fingertips grazed the lace. BINGO! “I’m going to pretend doesn’t exist.”

“Oh really?” His hand quickly left my hip and grabbed around my waist. “Because I’m going to remember every little detail.” The lace slipped from between my fingertips as he flipped us. “Especially every time I open this draw.” I heard the draw slam shut and all hopes I had of leaving with my underwear gone.

“Get off me.” His right hand pulled my leg up and wrapped it around his waist. Oh god… he was good.

“Oh no, you started this.” He laughed, his chest pressing into mine with each exhaled laugh. “I’m just finishing it.”

“I need you to get off me so I can leave Hastings.”

“I dunno, I’m quite comfortable.” His hand pushed the fabric of his shirt up, revealing a tiny slither of my skin. “I like how you look in my bed, a forbidden fruit who doesn’t belong.” I let out a snort. If this was his attempt at flirting, he had a lot of work to do. “But here you are,”

“You are right. I certainly don’t look like the type of girl you’d waste your time on, so how about you let me up, and we pretend this didn’t happen.”

��No, I don’t think I like that idea,” His voice came out in a soft whisper.

“Why?”

“I was always told girls like you,” I felt a rush of enjoyment as his eyes ran over my body, a rush I didn’t want to feel. “The good girls who their parents think their perfect when really they’re the worst of the worst are the best,” It was beginning to be a struggle to concentrate as his fingertips brushed the hair away from my forehead. “And from what I’ve been told, you’re the best of them… So I want to find out myself.”

“Oh really?”

“Really. Why did you come up to me last night?” Why did I go up to him last night because I was lonely? Because I was sick of April talking about her fiancé? Because as much as I don’t want to admit it, verbally sparring with Hastings was a highlight.

“I heard that the reformed bad boys are the best,” His finger dragged along my jawline. “And I heard you’re one of the best.” I countered with a smirk.

“Oh really?” He mimicked.

“You tell me,” His fingertip tapped against my lips. Impulsively I nipped on the tip.

“Let’s play a game.”

“I’m listening.”

“The game to end all of our little games for good… No more practice jokes, no more telling my parents I got some random girl pregnant.” He chuckled.

“Then you can’t egg my car anymore or let down my tyres.”

“Fine.” He conceded. “Then let’s sweet talk,” His lips went to my neck, placing sweet kisses along the skin. “Let’s play fight, talk twenty-four-seven,”

“I’m no good at sweet-talking, and I don’t think I could stand talking to your for so long.” My voice came out breathy as my senses zero’d in on the feeling of his lips.

“Let’s wish each other good morning, and good night every day… We’ll take walks together.”

“I’d prefer a ride on your motorbike.” He let out a chuckle, the skin under his lips practically vibrating from the motion.

“I’ll give you a nickname,” His lips were on my jaw now, my hands we on his back, nails digging into the skin, I’m sure leaving moon-shaped indents. “Let’s hang out with each other’s friends.”

“Your friends are dicks.” His lips dropped close to mine, a chaste kiss being left on the right side.

“We’ll go on dates, talk all night on the phone… I’ll hold you, kiss you.” His lips moved to the other side. “We’ll make love, bang, fuck whatever you want to call it.”

“I’m waiting for the game part, Hastings. Right now, it sounds like you just want me to be your girlfriend. I mean, I know last night was good, but really this good?”

“The game is, Whoever falls in love first, loses.” He finally pulled away, his right hand still rubbing circles on my hip bone.

“Doesn’t seem like much of a game.”

“Then why do you seem so scared?”

Was this asshole serious? I was never scared, especially not when it came to challenging him, beating him.

“I’m not.”

“Then what do you say?”

“So you want to pretend we’re a thing to all of our friends, all of our family, just to make one of us fall in love with the other first for what? Bragging rights and heartbreak?”

“Tell me something.” His lips hovered inches from mine. I could feel the warmth of his breath, and how the hell did he not have morning breath? “How good would it feel to know you conned me into loving you, then breaking my heart,”

He had a point. After all the years of heartache and teasing he’d caused me, it would be fun to break his heart into a million tiny shattered pieces.

“What would we tell everyone?” His body moved against mine as he shrugged.

“That we’ve reconnected or connected whatever you want to say.”

“You really want to do this?” My brow raised in suspicion.

“Make you fall in love with me.” I nodded my head. “Oh hell yeah,”

“Fine.” I smirked. “Let’s play a game.”

[george-mackay-macfine]

Let's Play A Game. CH.5

A/N: I'm so sorry this took so long, but enjoy the smut.

@neocil @cjand10 @queen-bunnyears

He’d watched me all night, every move I made, from moving the fork from the container of chow mien to bringing it to my lips, his eyes never left me. As the red wine I’d drunk spilled out the side of my mouth and ran down my neck, he watched me.

“Something wrong?” I finally asked him when he’d groaned for the sixth time in the last hour as I reached up above me into the cupboard to return the dishes to their home after I’d spent the last fifteen minutes meticulously washing them.

“You.” He said simply.

“I’m wrong?” I grabbed another plate moving to my tippy-toes to put it back. As I reached I heard the chair scratch against the floor as he stood up. “I didn’t think I’d done anything wrong.”

“Really.” He was behind me now, his front pressing into my back as he took the plate from between my fingers and put it on the upper shelf. “Because from where I’m standing,” His hand dropped to my shoulder, running down until his fingers clasped around my wrist. “I can see how you are moving now, and all I can see is how you were moving last night.” Game, set, match.

“Oh,” I shrugged. “Is that all.” I moved my body, shuffling around in the small space he’d left me. “I thought you had some serious mental illness that was making you verbally react to every tiny thing I’d done throughout dinner.” I looked up at him a bright smile on my face. “I’m glad to know you’re all there,” I tapped a finger on the side of his head, just below his temple. “Well,” I shrugged. “As far as we know.” I drug my finger drown the side of his jaw.

“Cheeky,”

“Honest.” I slipped out under his arm and walked towards my bedroom. “I’m going to bed, can you please turn off the lights before you sleep on the couch.”

“Honeybird, I won’t be sleeping on the couch,” I snorted pushing the door open, as I turned back to look at him.

“If that’s what you really think,” I walked to the bed and slipped under the covers laying in the centre of the bed. I turned on the small radio by my bed to distract myself as my heart began beating erratically as I heard him shuffle about in the kitchen. The tink of the wine glass against the counter top. The muffle of his jacket as he stripped it off and threw it over the chairs. Then the sound of his feet tapping against the floor as he walked towards my bedroom.

“Move over Honeybird. You’re hogging the bed.”

“This isn’t the couch.”

“I know.” The cool air nipped at my skin as he lifted my quilt. “Don’t wanna move,” I felt the bed dip as he slid in beside me. “Look’s like we’re snuggling then,” His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me into his chest.

I hated how his hand on the bare skin on my hip made my heart beat faster.

“Hastings,” I wiggled trying to push his body off mine. “You need to leave me alone and get to the couch,”

“There’s no way to treat your boyfriend, is it?”

“I don’t know, let me go get one and I’ll let you know.”

“Are you saying I’m not your boyfriend.”

“I can’t believe this is how my night is ending.” I groaned from my spot on the bed. Long gone was the warmth the wine had provided me, now I was beginning to feel the cool chill of the night that had begun to settle, and I wasn’t sure if it was the remnants of the wine or if it were Hasting’s words that were beginning to make my cheeks flush against the chill of the room.

“I love this song,” Five hundred miles by the Proclaimers cut through the air. “When I wake up, well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who wakes up next to you.” Hastings sung softly his fingers drawing on my skin. “But I would walk five-hundred miles, and I would walk five-hundred more.” I let a laugh slip out, beyond entertained by the man in my bed, not that I’d ever tell him that. “See a good song.” He pushed some of my hair behind my ear as he continued to sing. “I remember when Johnny D’aleno broke your heart in eight grade and every time I saw you for two months after you were singing this song.”

“I was,” I nodded my head knowing where this story was heading.

“Until me,”

“Until you.” I reluctantly agreed. Praying for my brain to not relive the memories.

“You still mad at him?”

“Who Johnny?” He nodded his head. “Can I even be?” I was fourteen at the time and Johnny was the cutest boy in my grade, but of course every girl wanted him. “Should I be? I knew it would never happen, even at that age.”

“Even if you know it’s coming, you’re never prepared for it, and that.” Hastings let out a soft low whistle. “Your first heart break…” He shook his head. “I know how it feels,”

“What girl would be stupid enough to hurt the Jude Hastings?” His finger dragged over my hip again, slipping his finger underneath the waist band of my panties. “Hastings?”

“Bianca Phillips.” He conceded. “We dated,”

“I remember.” They’d dated for two years until they suddenly broke up, shocking most of our class. “But no one ever knew why,”

“I found her making out in the art room with my best-friend.”

“Jason?” I gasped.

“No, Leah.”

“Leah! What a total dick she was.” Hastings laughed, nodding his head.

“She couldn’t help it, neither of them could.”

“So she was… They both…”

“Yeah.”

“And she never thought to tell you?”

“What? That she was interested in pussy?”

“Well, I wouldn’t have put it quiet like that.”

“I would.”

“Would Hastings from sophomore year put it that way, or would current working professional Jude Hastings put it another way?”

“We both would.” I grabbed onto his hand, stopping it’s movements against my skin.

“Well, sophomore Hastings, I’m sorry that happened to you.” The song began to change as he shrugged his shoulders, the sheet covering his torso slipping down.

“Dance with me.” He whispered as the intro to Ed Sheeran’s Give me love began to play through the small radio.

“What?” Hastings sat up, pulling himself up and chucking his legs over the side of my bed.

“Dance with me.”

“Hastings, I’m tired, and wine drunk I need to sleep.”

“Dance with me, Darcy,” I looked between his outstretched hand and where he stood. “C’mon Darcy, it’s just one dance.”

“What if it isn’t?” I whispered, worried to speak any louder, incase I’d break whatever spell Jude Hastings was trying to put on me.

“And what if it is?” He flashed another of his heartbreaking grins, the kind that would have made sophomore Darcy crash and burn harder than Johnny had. “Be brave, Ali.” The use of the old nickname he’d bestowed upon me in our early childhood made my heart flutter so much that I found myself offering him my hand and allowing him to pull me out of the bed and up to my feet. He pulled me into his bare chest, his left hand holding onto my right, the other wrapping around my waist. My free hand wound itself around his neck, holding on tightly, I knew I was afraid to let go…

It’s the wine, Darcy. Not Jude Hastings.

It is the fucking wine.

We swayed back and forth, my head finding it’s own way to rest on his shoulder, allowing the exposed skin on my neck to his outwards breaths.

“No, I just wanna hold ya.” Hastings sung quietly as we swayed back and forth to the music.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuck.

What was happening? I, Darcy Alice Edwards cannot be feeling anything. If anything this is just my brain malfunctioning because this is what every single rom-com has told me I need, what I want a man to do for me, but this was Jude Hastings, and I couldn’t want this… I did not want this.

But why did it have to be so nice?

Fuck a duck.

I couldn’t deny it, that dancing with Jude Hastings wasn’t making me feel all types of tingles wherever he was touching, and elsewhere in other place he wasn’t touching anymore, and maybe I did want to see where this night was going to go, where this fucking bet was going to go, but the other side of me, who knew what actual heartbreak, not Johnny breaking my heart in eighth grade heartbreak, but real heartbreak felt like. On the other hand, this was fun, as much as I would never admit it to him I always enjoyed our battle of the wits and I’d always found Jude handsome, I mean I’d be blind if I didn’t… but dancing with him in my bedroom wearing nothing more than his dress shirt… there was just something else happening and I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

Shit-balls, is this what a stroke feels like?

Am I meant to be smelling toast?

My heartbeat spiked, I’m sure if I could concentrate I could hear the thump, thump, thump nearly as loudly as I could hear the song through the room. Hastings had noticed I’d stopped swaying, and was now watching me, his hands remaining in their previous position. My breathing was hitching, becoming a varied mess of deep calming exhales and jagged short intakes. Adrenaline started to pump wildly through my body as my brain tried to focus on a silent prayer, praying that I don’t fuck this up, that I don’t fuck up such a perfect moment.

“Darcy.” It was so soft, I’d have missed it if I wasn’t so focused, so consumed by him. He lent down a little, bending at his knee’s so our eyes were level, his hands moved from my waist, each holding onto a side of my face keeping me looking at him. “Darcy,”

“Jude?” Then he was kissing me, a quick peck of soft lips, testing the boundaries, When I didn’t resist the peck was immediately followed by a hungry open mouthed kiss, one I’d only seen in movies like Gone with the wind, and anything by John Hughs. It was wet, and hot and everything teenage me always imagined kissing Jude Hastings would be. My hands traveled his body as his moved around mine, gripping lightly onto his shirt, encouraging to come closer, needing him closer…

Like it were possible for us to be any closer than we were.

His hands left my face, one going to my shoulders, the other around my back as he tried to pull me closer to him and I was at a total surrender, he had me. All of me as I titled my head up we were still kissing like the world was going to end at any moment, his tongue slipped into my mouth, gentle but demanding, controlling the passion of the kiss. My fingers gripped his hair pulling at it as I nibbled on his bottom lip, pulling it between my teeth.

I had never wanted anyone like I want Jude Hastings, ever.

Remember, Darcy. This is all a game. This is all part of his game plane.

“Jude,” I whispered, half torn between him and his lips, and wanting to go open the door to show him the way out so I didn’t fall for his trick any longer. “This isn’t part of the bet, I’m not falling for it.”

“Darcy, you should be kissed often.” His hand came up to my check, the other resting on my hip his shirt pushed up. “By someone who really likes you. Not in a stupid game.”

“Then what’s this? Isn’t it your game?” Just shut your eyes, Darcy. Close them tight… It’ll be over soon and Jude Hastings kissing you will all just be a distant memory, a memory you can use when you’re lonely because you kept telling him to fuck off and one day he did it.

“No?” He shook his head. “All I know is that when someone mentions you. I light up, and the idea of being around you, being consumed by you, and your time… Our stupid pranks” I put my hands against his chest and pushed. He countered my move and held onto my hands.

“You don’t mean that.” Hastings smiled. A happy carefree smile. I used to love those smiles once upon a time. “I can’t think right now, there’s too much in my head.” Too much wine in my system.

“Let me distract you.” He sat down on the bed and pulled me to stand before him. I averted my eyes to the ceiling, if I looked at him right now, I’d lose it. “Let me touch you the way only I can touch you. I know what you need,” His hand went to the waist band of my panties. “I know what you like Darcy, even after one night.” His hand returned to my shirt, his shirt pushing the material upwards. The cold air hit my skin. I felt his lips next. Kissing along the exposed skin. “Tell me you want it,” He whispered against my skin. I nodded, biting my lip, hands going to his shoulders. “I need you to tell me.”

“Please.” I whispered, head finally tilting down from the ceiling. Jude’s hands were on my thighs, slowly pushing my, his, shirt up. His lips still attached to the skin on my stomach, the kissed below my belli button, pulling the waistband of my panties out of the way ever so slightly. God I’ve died and found heaven. He looked up, his lips leaving my skin. Jude’s fingertips hooking onto my underwear. Thank God I was wearing one of my nicer pairs today… Not that Jude would pay much attention to them I’m sure, “Hastings.” I whispered as he pulled my underwear down my legs, dropping them when they got to my knees. He pulled me towards him, I fell onto his lap. My hands still holding onto his shoulders.

“Do you know before last night it’d been three years since I kissed you last?” He leaned in, hands going to the buttons on the shirt.

This was really fucking happening again.

“You remember.” His fingertips ran up and down my spine.

“It’s never left my mind.” My hands left his shoulders and went to his cheeks. “Another stupid game that brought us together.”

“We need to stop playing games together…” I lent down and pressed my lips against his. When I pulled away, his hands wound in my hair pulling my lips back to his.

“God.” He whispered in a moment of separation between us. His tongue traced across my bottom lip gently, but with an urgency and neediness that sent shivers down my spine. I pulled away, his bottom lip was between mine, a trick I’d learned from him, three years prior, now reused on him. “Fucking christ.” His lips moved to my neck, greedily leaving kisses all over.

“Hastings.” He pulled back, grabbing my hand with his dragging it down his chest, he stopped when our hands reached the bulge in his pants.

“Look what you do to me. You feel it?” I nod and move back in, running my fingers through his hair as I kiss him again. Jude’s hands went back to my shirt, moving it so he had more access to my back. Fingertips pushing roughly into my skin. It should have hurt, but instead it made me want more.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” I whispered. Ignoring my own warning as my hands left his hair and went between us to his belt. “Such a bad idea…” I whispered agains as I undid his belt. What are we even doing? My mind is so muddled by the feeling of his hands running along my back tugging at my hair. The way his teeth nip at my bottom lip as he pulls away, he puts some distance between our lips, looking down at where my hands are working on the buttons on his jeans.

“Then why are you unzipping my jeans.” He grabbed onto my face, holding so gently as if he were worried I would break. “I want you Darcy,” Taking his words as encouragement I reached for his jeans again. Running my fingers along the skin above, fingers playing with the hair leading down from his belly-button.

“Are you sure this is a good idea.” I whispered, looking up from where my hands play to look at Jude. He lowered his head to mine, a hand moving from my back, tickling it’s way up to the back of my neck tilting my head up, until his lips met mine. His lips brushed mine, softly as if he was waiting to see my reaction, when I pushed forward a little he gave me a real kiss, soft and slow. His hand left my neck, going back around my waist, pulling me onto his lap even more, I could feel him underneath me, hard. Ready and waiting. Jude pulled away first, his eyes stared into mine as he watched me move my hand slowly down his bare chest. Dragging it once more down, before leading it into his boxers.

Now, this wasn’t the first time I’d seen a penis. I wasn’t seventeen anymore, I wasn’t a virgin, But this was Jude, and this was Jude’s penis, and while I wasn’t a virgin anymore, I wasn’t a veteran in the penis riding rodeo,

“You look surprised.” He whispered. I couldn’t help but giggle.

“Just thinking about how the high school rumour mill was true for once.” I whispered, I could feel the hard bulge under my fingers and I squeezed it a little, teasing a hiss from him. I took that as a good sign, running my hand up and down the outline of him. I looked down at my hand, watching as it palmed him through his boxers.

“God, Darcy,” He hissed. I looked up his face. His eyes were closed, mouth parted slightly. This was Jude Hastings. Suddenly his eyelashes fluttered open, his eyes meeting mine and he winked at me, biting his lips when his hips rolled pushing himself into my hand, “Jesus.” He whispered, and the tent in the boxers was now bigger, feeling heavier in my hands. He pulled my hand away, kissing me fully and hungrily, my hands roaming his back, while his were firmly planted on my jaw. My hips rolling out of instinct, a soft moan ripping from his throat.

“I need you.” I whispered against his skin, His lips going to my neck.

“You’ve got me.” His hand left my jaw, going back to my shirt, pulling it from my body. He watched me, shirtless, nothing but my silk skirt left, on his lap. His eyes filled thickly with lust. “Take what you want.” I didn’t need any more, My hand went to his pants again, pulling the boxers down. I stared at him he was definitely bigger, longer, thicker than my last, well my last before him. My hand already around his length, my thumb swiping over his tip to collect the liquid that had gathered there.

It was now or never. Now was the time I was going to have sex with Jude Hastings, sober… Or mostly sober, the boy I’d fallen so helplessly in love with during my childhood. My best-friend till we started middle school, and now my… friend?

It was fine though, He was now only a friend to me too… We were friends? Enemies? Frienamies. Frienamies who were about to have sex… Sex Frienamies…

“Darcy… You gotta do something honeybird,” He whispered, pulling my lips to his. I knew he was right, and before I knew it I was lifting up a little, hovering over him. It was as if Jude could sense how nervous I was, about what was going to happen as he placed his hands on my hips, encouraging me, lowering me down on him. Jesus, fuck… This hurt. “Darcy.” But hearing Jude Hastings moan my name did something to me. Elicited something primal in me, something I didn’t know existed… Suddenly I didn’t care about the pain anymore, All I was sure about was I wanted to hear Jude moan my name again. My hands gripped onto his shoulders digging in as I began to roll my hips into his, Feeling him inside, hitting me in all the places no one else ever had… No one else could like him.

“Hastings.” I whimpered. He looked up from where our bodies met, his hands holding tightly onto my hips. He moaned loudly, God I don’t think I’d ever heard anything more attractive. His fingertips dug into my hips as he began to thrust his own hips upwards. “Jude.” Another strained whimper. “I need…” I closed my eyes, I couldn’t keep this up. It was too much. “I can’t.”

“I know.” He whispered. Lips meeting mine as I fell forward into him. Jude lifted us, rolling us over so I was under him now. His jeans had fallen down his legs and pooled at his ankles. “God, you feel incredible.” He whispered, pushing my hair away from my face as his hips rolled into me. “Even better than last night.” It was slow this time, both of us leaving feathery touches on the other’s body and kissing as if it was the last day we had on earth, and this was how we wanted to go out.

To be fair, if I was going to go out… This would be the way I’d want to spend my last day.

“Oh god.” I moaned loudly when he started going faster, One of my legs hooking around his waist the other bent at the knee, as he hit harder, deeper. One of my arms hooked around his shoulder, pressing his body to mine in a desperate attempt to have him as close as possible. I started to suck a mark on his shoulder, wanting to drown the moans that threatened to come out.

“Don’t think about it.” He demanded already seeming to know where my mind was drifting too, “Just think about right now, think about me.” He whispered lips attaching to my neck, his hips moving harder and making me forget everything I had in my mind, every fear I had about what would come next. What would happen once this was over. The only thing I could think about after was him, his name falling from my lips. “Just think about how good this feels, how right this feels.” He moaned when I started clenching around him, nails scratching his back roughly. “Let go.” I couldn’t stop or command my body to stop doing it, all it could manage to do was shake and quiver as a billion and one small bubbles of pleasure burst inside of me. I kissed him eagerly, the low grunt and the curse he let go when he reached his high, enough to make me want him all over again. “Fuck.” He whispered his body slowing. Jude tossed his head back, moaning once more as he came down from his high, his hand clinched at my hip until he relaxed, falling down on top of me his lips going to my forehead in a splatter of kisses.