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flowercrowngods · 1 year

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it’s steddie yearning hours

🤍 also on ao3

It’s a little fucked up, maybe, the way Eddie can’t seem to tear his eyes away from Steve‘s sleeping form. He’s a sight to behold — curled up on his side, making himself as small as he can; his hair is a mess, hiding his face from the world but not from Eddie, not quite. The room is dark except for the light of the lamps outside that comes in through the blinds, landing right on Steve, and Eddie thinks how fitting it is that Steve would be found by the light even in total darkness. He would be found and unaware of it.

And Eddie Munson is left to lean against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of his chest like that would save his heart, keep it where it is, keep it for himself. He shouldn’t be looking at Steve like that. Not when they’re hardly even friends, not when what they have is only remnant of a world ending. A world saved. A world forever changed.

He sighs, leaning his whole weight against the frame, clenching his fists in his t-shirt, doing everything to stop himself from stepping closer to the bed, running fingers through Steve‘s mess of hair, brushing lips to his forehead and climbing in bed with him.

The doorframe holds his weight, his sanity, his heart, and Eddie slides down with another heart sigh that the poets would have called wistful. Yearning. Longing and belonging.

He hits the ground and hopes that it would break the haze. But nothing can. There’s a heaviness inside him that makes it hard to breathe and leaves him wishing that Steve weren’t in his bed, in his heart, in his life. Not like this.

He wants to be friends with Steve. Real, actual friends. People who don’t have to hold each other through nightmares, people who go to the arcade together and make fun of each other. Who exchange their favourite tapes and go on trips together.

He doesn’t want to be bonded to him by trauma and horrors unimaginable alone. He wants to fall in love slowly, gently, wants the secret smiles and the fluttering inside his chest that he overheard the girls at school talking about.

He wants another chance with Steve. Another try. Without monsters, without death and dying, without saving and being saved. He wants Steve Harrington to choose Eddie Munson for who he is, not for what they went through.

He wants Steve to choose. To have a choice.

Breathing through a lump in his throat has become second nature to him lately, and he finally looks away from this boy that has yet to drop the other shoe on Eddie.

After who knows how long, Steve stirs, stretching with an adorable little groan until he stills, his eyes on Eddie. He can feel them. He doesn’t look up to meet them, can’t be responsible for whatever Steve would find in his eyes.

“Hey,” he hears, Steve’s voice incredibly soft despite the rasp of disuse that’s marking it.

Eddie shivers a little and finally looks up. “Hi.” A beat. You’re beautiful. “Sleep well?”

“Mm-hmm,” Steve nods, yawns again, then curls up some more on his side, scooting over to the edge of the bed so he can better see Eddie. “How long was I out for?”

Two hours, forty-eight minutes. “‘Bout two and a half hours,” Eddie says, smiling when Steve’s eyes widen. “There’s dinner. If you’re hungry.”

He’s holding his breath, shallow as it is, because his lungs cannot be trusted around Steve anymore. Not with the way he smiles every time Eddie makes dinner. Not with the way he hides said smile behind the blanket a little bit, like he doesn’t want Eddie to see, like he can’t believe he’s smiling in the first place.

Eddie wants to get up and hold him. Trace that smile with his fingers. Make it stay.

What are we doing, Steve? What are you still doing in my life? Why did you make yourself a home like it’s worth staying here?

Slowly, still a little clumsy from his prolonged nap, Steve gets up with the blanket in his hands and drops it on Eddie’s lap. Must have mistaken his shivers for being cold. Then Steve steps over him, ruffles his hair as he does, and Eddie wants to cry a little bit at the way Steve snickers at it. He’s ridiculous. Eddie is ridiculously gone for him. It hurts more than it should.

“You hungry, too?” Steve asks, fingers finding Eddie’s hair to comb through the curls he just messed up. Eddie doesn’t have it in himself to move his head, to put a distance between them, to confront Steve about what this is, what they’re doing, what it all means.

All he does is nod — slowly, so Steve’s fingers stay where they are. They do. Eddie pinches his own fingers to stop from reaching out and snatching Steve’s hand, bringing it to his lips, making him stay. Stay here. Stay in his life forever. Stay and never realise that there’s no reason for him to do that.

He meets Steve’s eyes even though that’s dangerous business. “Starving.“

Steve’s face does this thing again. That thing where he softens so visibly, his eyes shining a little, his lips twitching into both a smile and a frown. It’s mortifying. It’s liberating. It’s being seen by Steve.

“You didn’t have to wait, Eddie.” His voice is soft. Chiding and grateful all at once, and Eddie’s heart flutters.

“I know,” he shrugs, and that’s that because he bites his tongue. I wanted to. I’ll wait. I’ll always wait.

Steve huffs and then he’s gone, rummaging around in the kitchen before he reappears with two plates of lasagna in his hands. Instead of asking Eddie to come join him at the table or settling back in bed, Steve hands one plate to Eddie and then slides down the other side of the doorframe so they’re face to face, their thighs pressed together. It’s a tight fit, but their bodies are angled just so, making this as comfortable as it gets.

It’s one of the first things they figured out together, sitting in the door like this. Wayne comes home sometimes to find them like this, even joined them on some occasions. Just to talk, just to be there.

Steve reaches over to grab the blanket again, draping it over both their laps, and Eddie shoves a large forkful of lasagna into his mouth to stop himself from saying something stupid.

What are we doing? When does it end? When is the last time I get to sit with you, share my blanket with you, get you to eat my lasagna? Tell me; just tell me so I can prepare. Tell me you won’t stay so I can stop dreaming.

They eat in silence and Steve’s eyes are on him for most of it, but Eddie doesn’t look up. It’s heavier tonight, heavier than usual. Heavier because Steve’s cheeks are streaked with the imprint of Eddie’s pillow, heavier because his hair is a wild mess, heavier because Eddie wants to breathe him in and hold him forever.

But Steve is awake, and they only hold each other when they have a nightmare. Because that’s why they are in each other’s lives. There is no room for feelings, for romance, for yearning when their smiles only exist to keep each other alive.

“Are you okay, Eddie?” Steve whispers, his plate empty while Eddie barely touched his own, too busy not looking at Steve that he forgot to be a person in the process. It’s nothing new, really, but he’s gotta get a grip.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

See, that’s the thing about Steve. He always gives you two chances to say something. The first try for all those impulse answers, the things you wish for yourself, the hand wave of dismissal. And then the second chance without judgment.

And Eddie loves him. Can’t lie to him again, so he just shrugs. His second chance not yet taken. Steve bumps their knees and Eddie’s eyes water. He eats his lasagna with stinging eyes and slightly shaking hands, because Steve can’t know. But Eddie might explode if he doesn’t.

“Wanna go for a walk?”

And, see, that’s another thing about Steve Harrington and the way he sees you. He knows Eddie hates being still, can’t talk when he’s sitting down. Can’t talk about anything meaningful when the world is quiet and dark and still.

Steve knows what Eddie needs. And it’s a little fucked up, maybe, but Eddie knows that Steve secretly needs it, too.

And he should say no. Should swallow his emotions, his thoughts, his fears, his aching and yearning and longing and belonging, should swallow it all and smile it away, bump his knee into Steve’s and propose they watch a movie together.

But he doesn’t. He can’t swallow tonight, not when there’s a lump in his throat, not when Steve is so warm against him, not when—

“Okay,” Steve smiles, climbing to his feet. “Let me go get ready, you finish your lasagna. Can I, uh. Can I borrow a sweater?”

“You know you don’t gotta ask.”

Another smile and he ruffles Eddie’s hair again. It makes his heart jump. “Thanks, man.”

“Of course,” Eddie whispers, barely audible, and not for Steve’s ears, just for his own need to say something. Anything. To make this real.

Ten minutes later, Eddie closes and locks the trailer door beside him and they start walking. The night is quiet even though it’s only just past eleven, and it’s a tad colder than Eddie expected. Beside him, Steve sticks his hands into the pockets of his jacket, fluffing up the hood of Eddie’s sweater so it covers his neck from the light breeze. Feeling Eddie’s eyes on him, Steve smiles and cocks his head down the street.

“Shall we?”

Eddie only hums but sets the pace. They’re both looking down at the ground, neither of them really caring where it is they’re going. It’s not about getting anywhere, it’s just about moving. Walking. Talking without looking at each other, finding excuses and answers in the night sky and the swaying treetops.

They walk in silence for a good half hour before Eddie finds his courage, his words, his peace with the possible answers. The night can cover for him and convince the daylight of little white lies that sound a lot like, I’ll be fine.

“You know you don’t have to do all this, right?”

Beside him, Steve’s steps falter a little. Maybe he didn’t expect Eddie to talk after all. “Do what?”

“This, I don’t know,” Eddie sighs, opening his arms to indicate the entirety of his life, really. “Sticking around. Staying.”

Steve frowns a little but he keeps his steps in sync with Eddie’s. That’s the whole point of their little nightly walks. No stopping, no looking, no seeing.

“Do you not want me to?”

God, how he wants Steve to stay! But also… Not like this. Not like he thinks Eddie might break if he leaves. Which Eddie will. But it shouldn’t be what makes Steve stay.

And there’s no way to say that. So all he does is shrug.

There’s a little pained noise from Steve, and Eddie scrambles for words that evade him, truths that make him too vulnerable, too real, too much.

“Okay,” Steve says after a while, and he sounds so small when he does. Eddie looks over and sees him pinching the bridge of his nose, nodding slowly, his mouth opening and closing with words unsaid. “Do you… Should I go home?”

Maybe you should, Eddie thinks. Get back to people you can be friends with; real friends.

“Maybe,” he says, slowing to a stop, looking away from Steve. “But I don’t want you to.”

“I… Okay? I don’t—“ Steve sighs and stops as well. “If it bothers you that we’re friends, then you can just—“

“Are we?” Eddie interrupts him, wincing at the way his own voice sounds. “Are we?” he repeats, quieter this time, opening up the question to honesty and vulnerability rather than disbelief and challenge.

Steve frowns again, confused, and Eddie remembers why they don’t do this in the quiet of his room; why they don’t do this while looking at each other. He can’t look at Steve and ask these questions. It’s too much.

So he turns and keeps walking, following the familiar road they’re on. Steve follows, a bit behind, and it leaves Eddie feeling horribly alone.

“You know,” Steve says after a while, scoffing, sighing, breathing until he tries again. Eddie waits. Here comes the other shoe. It’s finally there. “You know, I should be used to it by now, but it doesn’t really stop hurting when people keep questioning your intentions. With the kids, I kinda get it. There’s, like, years separating us. I get it when they’re hesitant to call me their friend.

“And with Robin, you know, she spent weeks after Starcourt just waiting for me to drop her. To be like, ‘Alright, thanks, it was good while it lasted but you’re an actual nerd and I don’t care for that shit at all.’”

Steve laughs and Eddie frowns, No laugh should sound so hollow.

“I had no idea she was so obsessed with the idea of me leaving her. She didn’t trust that I would stick around, that I actually loved her, that she’s my best friend and— God, she… I just, I don’t get it, y’know?”

Steve turns around because Eddie’s steps had slowed while Steve sped up, and Steve is walking backwards with his hands in his pocket, looking at Eddie with a hurt, confused expression.

“And now you’re telling me you don’t want me to stay and that I should go home, but that you don’t want me to do that either? You’re asking me if we’re friends, Eddie? What the hell else would we be? I’m…” He shakes his head and spreads his arms. “What do I have to do for anyone to believe me I just wanna spend time with them because they’re cool and I feel really fucking good being around them?”

Eddie doesn’t wanna look at Steve, but he can’t look away either. They’ve stopped again, a few feet apart, and Steve looks so open, ready for Eddie to answer, to tell him, to talk, when all Eddie wants to do is run away. Run to him. And he can’t do either. Can’t tell him.

“It’s not that,” he says lamely.

He gets to watch as Steve’s face scrunches up, crumbles, and then falls until there’s nothing left. His expression empty.

“I’m going home now, Eddie.”

“Why?”

Steve shakes his head and swallows. “Because I’m hurt. And confused. And I don’t wanna talk anymore, not when you don’t.”

And with that, Steve turns around. Walks down the road, disappearing into darkness until the next street light catches him. Attracting light even in darkness.

And Eddie breaks finally. He runs down the street, halfway catching up with Steve until he’s close enough to make sure the other boy can hear him.

“I’m terrified,” he says, making Steve stop. He doesn’t turn around yet, but it’s enough for Eddie to keep going. “I’m so fucking terrified that you only think you have to be my friend because we nearly died together. Terrified that you’ll leave because this thing between us is so heavy, loaded with trauma and memories. I’m terrified that you won’t come over anymore one day, that you’ll be done, that you’ll find friends that are not bonded to you like I am. Or like the kids and Robin and the rest are. I’m… Stevie.”

His voice breaks a little and he approaches Steve’s form, the light catching in his hair, making Eddie feel like a moth on his way to the flame.

“I wonder if we’re friends not because I doubt you. It’s because I know I have nothing to offer you. Nothing but, like, an open ear for your memories or open arms for your nightmares. Nothing but shared memories, which I know are only a fraction of what you’ve been through. That’s not how friendship works, Stevie, that’s not what will be enough in the long run.”

He sighs, rounding Steve until he’s in front of him, but Steve’s looking down at the pavement.

“I want to be your friend, Stevie. But I have this gnawing feeling that that ship has sailed.”

Steve shakes his head when Eddie is done. Says something he can’t quite catch.

“What was that?” Eddie asks, his voice tender, his eyes watery, his breath heaving. He hates being so vulnerable, but he hates even more the thought that Steve would just leave and think Eddie never cared for him.

“You make me dinner,” Steve says then.

He sniffles. Reaches for Eddie’s hand until he seems to think better of it. Eddie feels the emptiness, the cold air on his skin, and longs to be brave enough to take Steve’s hand now. He isn’t. But he thinks about it. He thinks about it all the time.

“You make me dinner and let me sleep in your bed. You make me smile and when I’m at work, I think about you sometimes, just to think nice thoughts. I don’t… There’s nothing you have to do, Eddie. You don’t have to do or be anything to be my friend. And I don’t want you around me just because you know what it’s like to drift off in your head, or just because you don’t question it when I can’t talk. I want you around because you make me laugh and you make me happy and if I could get paid for spending my days with you and with Robin, I would do nothing else in life. Because you, Eddie Munson, are good. And you’re enough. You’re a dork and a nerd and a fucking menace, and you’re kind and good with the kids and you’re a great friend. A great friend, Eddie, fuck!”

Steve is crying, but that’s okay because so is Eddie. Sincerity is scary, scarier than facing down the demo-bats, scarier than telling Wayne he’s queer, scarier than just about anything he’s ever done. But it also allows him to take Steve’s hand and pull him against his chest.

It makes him laugh when Steve sounds so frustrated when he says, “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

It makes him pull back and wipe away the tears from Steve’s cheeks, ignoring the ones on his own.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.”

He hums in surprise when that makes Steve lean in again, hiding his face in Eddie’s neck.

“I’m… I don’t know what to say,” he whispers into Steve’s hair.

“‘S okay,” Steve says. “That was, uh, a lot.”

Eddie laughs, feeling light and elated and a little hazy, the words still catching up with him, his limbs tingling with sensation just thinking about Steve thinking about him at work.

It does nothing to dissuade him from yearning and aching and longing to brush a kiss to Steve’s hair that is so close to him now. His hand comes up to the back of Steve’s neck, and the world slows down. Steve’s breath hitches, and Eddie’s heart jumps.

“I’m… I’m gonna say something, too, okay? Gonna try, at least. Stop me whenever, okay?”

Steve doesn’t react, but his hands begin to move in slow, minute movements along Eddie’s back. It gives him courage. Makes him dream.

He closes his eyes and draws in a deep breath. “I make you dinner because I like to take care of you. I let you sleep in my bed because… because it’s gonna smell like you. I like the way you smell. I make you smile because that makes me stupidly happy. Stupid, really. You make me a little stupid sometimes, Stevie. Because I want to be your friend more than anything in the world, but lately I also… I wanna climb into bed with you and hold you even when there’s not a nightmare. Just to hold you. I wanna tuck that rebellious strand of hair behind your ear just to touch you. I wanna touch you all the time, Steve. It’s a little crazy. Drives me crazy.“

He sighs and goes for the kill because they’re in too deep now, he can’t stop. Steve knows anyway, Eddie is sure, but he wants Steve to hear, too. He wants to say it. Wants to make it real.

“I wanna kiss you,” he breathes, and it’s too real for even the night to disguise it later. “All the time. And you should know that. You should know that maybe we can’t be friends after all.“

The words leave his mouth and he’s ready for Steve to push him away, to let him down gently with regret in his face and repeat his words from earlier, let go and go home like that would solve Eddie’s predicament.

But Steve doesn’t move from the tight embrace. Or, the doesn’t move away.

His hands on Eddie‘s back begin to wander more, leaving goosebumps along the way from his shoulder blades to his hips. His face where it’s tucked against Eddie‘s neck turns slightly until his nose connects with his collarbone. Steve straightens and his nose is replaced by his lips, connecting with Eddie‘s throat, his neck, his jaw.

And then Steve pulls back. Looks at Eddie with hooded eyes, hands moving from his shoulders to his jaw. Cradling Eddie‘s face like he’s something precious.

Eddie is holding his breath, tracking Steve’s every motion, not daring to move or even breathe too deeply lest he scares him off, breaks the spell, bursts the bubble.

Steve swallows and looks down at Eddie‘s lips. “What if I told you that I wanna kiss you all the time, too?”

“Then I would call you crazy.”

Steve smiles and leans in to rest his forehead against Eddie’s, breathing into the night, “Call me crazy, then.”

“You’re crazy.”

It’s the last thing Eddie says for a while before he tilts his head forward to capture Steve’s lips with his own. Steve hums and smiles into the kiss, opening his mouth to let Eddie in deeper, holding him so close there’s no room for doubts or regrets.

#steddie #steddie fic #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #idk what this is i was in the mood for yearning and a little bit of pain that comes with learning to be vulnerable #dio words #this is so long omg shut up dio

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muwapsturniolo · 3 months

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✯FreshLove For The Fit✯

pt1 pt2

Summary: an influencer party takes a turn for Chris and Y/N

Warnings: sex with no condom, fingering, kissing

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

"I want to fuck you while you wear FreshLove."

This is the proposition that was made two weeks ago.

Y/N has been thinking about it since then. She usually doesn't do meet-ups or let random dudes have sex with her, but she was tempted to bend that rule for Chris.

Her favorite influencer wants to have sex with her? It's like her Wattpad dreams come true!

Not wanting to look too thirsty, she told him she would think about it.

She thought bout it when they got off the phone, she thought about it when they started texting, and she was thinking about it as she was getting ready for a party.

Her friend started talking to some influencer guy, and he invited them to a party so here they are. She's standing in the corner watching her friend dance on this guy, bored out of her mind.

The party is in full swing, but she's not really having a good time. Guys who recognize her keep flirting and she is aggressively turning them down, the drinks are shit, and it's hot.

With an annoyed face, she makes her way to the bathroom...or tried to, it took her like five minutes to actually find it. She slams the door and sighs out in frustration.

She wishes she was at home in her bed, possibly talking to Chris.

After 10 minutes of trying to let her frustration go, she exits the bathroom only to bump into someone. They spill their drink and Y/N wants to scream at the top of her lungs. "Watch where the fuck you're going!" she barks.

"Damn Y/N I'm sorry." She snaps her head up in shock hearing Chris's voice.

"Chris?" to say she's shocked is an understatement. She wasn't expecting to see him tonight.

"Y/N" He has a smirk on his face as he looks her up and down. She's dressed in a pink mesh dress that isn't modest at all.

Her boobs look amazing and he has a clear view of her pierced nipples.

He licks his lips and grabs her waist, pushing her back into the bathroom. He shuts the door and presses her against it. Y/N looks at him with wide eyes. "You look good, I love the dress." He allows his fingers to play with the thin material. "Thanks, you look good too."

That's a lie, Chris looked good as fuck.

Black cargos, black shirt, silver chain, and black air forces. Y/N was ready to drop to her knees.

"So why are you at an influencer party?" Chris asks letting her go. He backs up and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a vape. The only sound being the muffled version of some King Von song. Y/N stares at him silently before snapping out of it and speaking. " My friend dragged me here because she started talking to one of these lil ass boys. Now i'm stuck at this dumbass party when I could be at home." She wets a paper towel and begins to wipe at her exposed skin to get the liquid Chris spilled off.

"I'm assuming you aren't having a good time?" He hits his vape, watching as she wipes in between the valley of her boobs. "Definitely not, all these boys think because they dance with their shirts off on a app, and because I have a big dildo collection, I want to fuck them! shits aggravating!"

Chris can't help but make a comment. "I may be biased but I really like the pink sparkly dildo... The orange jelly one is a close second" Y/N stops what she's doing and gives him an amused look through the mirror. She goes back to wiping herself off and Chris can’t help but stare at her.

The dress she’s wearing is doing nothing to cover her up. The mesh material sits right under her ass and he can see the pink thong she’s wearing. The front of the dress shows off her boobs and her pierced belly button.

“If I knew you were going to be here I would have worn something else.” She flirts softly.

“Like what? Because this dress, if you could call it that, is perfect.”

She throws the napkin in the trash and turns to Chris.

“My pink Freshlove shirt.”

He takes a deep breath and stands up straight. She giggles seeing him get so worked up over simple words. "You think you're funny?"

"Hilarious actually." He rolls his eyes and walks towards her. Seeing him get close, she backs up a bit but runs into the door. He hums to himself as he grabs her waist.

"I won't lie, even though this dress is doing things to me, I think that pink shirt would have me bricked up."

"All I'm hearing is you're not bricked up right now." He moves closer, pressing himself against her so she can feel how hard he is. "No, i definitely am."

She looks down at their connected bodies, eyeing the evident boner. his hand moves in between them, trailing down to her belly button. He leans down and whispers in her ear, "I bet you're wet too." He reaches under the dress, snapping her pink thong against her waist. She sucks in a sharp breath at the action.

He fiddles with the material before letting his hand trail lower. He's going slow on purpose. Mainly because he's waiting for her to back out, but also for teasing purposes. She bucks against him, urging him to go ahead. He smiles and pushes her down against the counter, rubbing his bludge against her ass. "You gonna let me fuck you?"

"Ye-mm" Her eyes flutter shut when he pushes her thong to the side and shoves two fingers into her. She's moaning softly as he begins to thrust his fingers, wishing he would add more. Her eyes fly open when he removes them, "why did you-fuck!" she grips the faucet and the edge of the counter when he unexpectedly pushes himself into her.

He could bust right now. He's been thinking about what she would feel like, and she's just as he imagined.

Warm, soft, and made just for him.

He wastes no time and begins to aggressively plow his hips against her ass, watching as the soft brown skin ripples.

Y/N can't help but let out loud moans and whimpers. She didn't expect him to feel this good or this big. He's stretching her out just like her favorite dildo. He lifts her leg up onto the counter and immediately hits that special spot inside of her. She lets out a scream and Chris is quick to lean forward and cover her mouth. "You gotta be quiet, Do wanna get caught right?" He groans into her ear. She reaches behind and tries to slow him down but he swats her arm away. "Stop trying to run and answer me Ma, or I'm going to stop." She quickly nods her head and Chris removes his hand, returning them to her waist.

She does her best to stay quiet but it's hard when he's hitting her in all the right places. The only noises being the lewd squelches coming from their bodies, and the soft whines and pants. Chris looks down and groans seeing the white cream pooling at the base of his dick. He's never seen anything like it, he's only had sex with a couple of girls but he knows from this single experience, he only wants to have sex with Y/N from now on.

She feels a familiar hot sensation in her stomach and her eyes widen, "chr--nmph wait!" She tries to push him away once again, but he grabs both of her arms and holds them against her back. He drills into her even faster, her eyes rolling back. "You're close, I can feel you squeezing me, fuck, come on baby. Let go for me." She feels like the wind has been knocked out of her lungs, tears forming in her eyes as the pressure builds.

He can tell she's holding it in. He cant figure out why, but he's determined to make her reach her high. He snakes his hand around her waist and starts swiping over her clit. Her legs begin to shake and she lets out a loud moan mixed with a scream, her head dropping against the counter.

Chris watches in amazement as her juices splash on the counter, his pants, and onto the floor. He quickly pulls out and cums all over her ass, groaning as he watches her body convulse against the marble.

When she stops shaking, he grabs a napkin and wipes her ass off, wishing he could take a picture. "Are you good?" He asks softly. She has yet to get up and he gets concerned. "This is embarrassing." She mutters.

"What is? nothing about that is embarrassing." Did she regret what they just did? She slowly pushes herself up and looks in the mirror.

Her makeup is fucked.

Her eyeliner and mascara are running down her face, and her lashes are almost off.

"I didn't mean to squirt...."

It's clear she's embarrassed. She always knew she could squirt, she just hid it from everyone (everyone being her subs and the guys she has sex with.) "Why were you holding it back?" He begins to wipe his dick off and fix his pants. "Some guys find it gross so I never do it." She turns around and attempts to fix her makeup. it's beyond repair so she wipes it off using the remover on the counter.

"gross?" She throws the wipe in the trash and turns so she's looking at him once again, "Leave, I have to pee." He smirks and shakes his head. "literally just watched you squirt all over my dick, I don't care about hearing you pee."

She huffs and sits down on the toilet. She kicks her thongs off seeing that it's drenched in both of their fluids. Chris gets to work on cleaning up their mess, sneakily stealing her thong and shoving it in his pocket.

She finishes peeing and washing her hands, "put this on."Chris demands, slipping off his hoodie. She looks at the hoodie and gives him a look, "FreshLove, really?"

"You can give it back when I make you squirt again, but there's no point since I'm keeping your thong," he smirks as he opens the bathroom door. At the mention of her thong, she looks around the bathroom in confusion.

she looks back at Chris in just enough time to see the pink material hanging out of his pocket as he walks through the corridor.

"Fucking perv," she has a smile on her face as she slips on his hoodie.

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AHHHH!!! its finally done and idk if i like it😔 i feel like yall were so excited and i rote so badly. i hope yall like it tho.

BTW THIS IS THE LAST PART!!

TAGLIST🍑

@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush

@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision

@ivonchetooo1239

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redstarwriting · 11 months

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bestie | hobie’s version

black cat!fem! reader becoming besties with Hobie

request?: yes LMAO

request: continuation of my original fic “bestie”

requested by: literally everyone omg

word count: 2.8k

genre: platonic and chaotic

warnings: language, stealing, monarchy slander, mentions of homelessness, knives, a sword

a/n: ok y’all, i thought of a way to continue this post as a series. maybe i’ll make a ‘bestie’ masterlist?

───────────────────────────────────

The friendship between you and Hobie formed fast. So fast. Faster than Miguel expected, even. You and Hobie literally became best friends immediately. He fucked with your attitude, which you knew already, but when he learned what you do? Best friends. “So, let me get this right, mate, you’re a global superstar—”

“Yep.”

“But you steal from the rich—”

“Mhm.”

“And you give to the poor—”

“Right.”

“Like some kinda famous Robin Hood?”

“Precisely,” you nod and he raises an eyebrow at you. The two of you are chilling in your penthouse apartment in a building that you own. He’s mindlessly strumming on his guitar, looking out at Nueva York from your balcony/rooftop, and questioning you. He thinks you’re cool, but he can’t help but be weary of sitting in such an expensive place. “Love the sentiment, really do, but ain’t bein’ a superstar… counteractive to all ‘at?” you shrug. “The majority of my money goes back to charities. I keep some of it, obviously, but I prefer giving back.” You lean back against a chair. “Besides. I grew up with nothing and basically no one. Feels kinda nice having a place like this.” “I guess, but donthca think buyin’ the ‘ole buildin’ was a bit overkill?” “No, actually. I pay for everything in this building and let homeless kids and teens in need, like me at that age, live in the rest of it free of charge,” you explain, taking a sip of your water. He stops strumming his guitar. “‘Scuse me?” you look over at him to see him staring at you with a look of disbelief in his eyes. You chuckle. “Don’t look so shocked. I like giving back, that’s the least I could do. Besides, I have a soft spot for kids being on the streets like that. No child deserves to suffer like that,” you explain and he shakes his head. As someone who was homeless as a child and well into his teenage years, hearing you say that actually makes him respect you loads more. “You should talk to some of the rich assholes in my world. Talk some sense into ‘em,” he mumbles, and you shake your head. “Rich people are inherently assholes.”

“You’re rich.”

“And I’m inherently an asshole. Self-awareness is key, Hobart,” you say and he rolls his eyes. “Not like ‘em assholes, though. They parade ‘round their wealth, pretendin’ the citizens in the city ain’t dyin’, starvin’… always stickin’ the pigs on us like we ain’t worth nothin’,” he mumbles, and you frown. “They’re lucky they have someone like you to stand up to them,” you say, and he nods. “Bloody right. ’s what I do. But there’s always a new person who gets in the way after I take down the first one,” he sighs, beginning to pick at the strings of his guitar again. You hum in agreeance. “Heard you bashed Norman Osborn’s head in with that guitar.”

“I did. It was bloody brilliant. But ‘en, after ‘im, these new Nazis showed up. Don’t even get me started on the new fuckin’ PM now,” he groans, and you shake your head. “Governments are ass. And I come from a non-monarchy. Can’t even imagine what yours is like,” you mumble and he frowns. “After I got rid of Norman, the new Prime Minister stepped in. Got rid a’ one evil and gave another one a open invitation.”

“At least you got rid of one of them. You’ll get the other one in time.”

“As much as I want ‘at to be true, I got the crown to worry ‘bout. Spewin’ all their rubbish to everyone, distractin’ ‘em all from the real issues goin’ on with their fancy jewels and blood money,” he stopped playing again, using his hands to show his disgust to you. “Jewels, you say? Money?” you smirk, and he rolls his eyes. “Is ‘at all ya got from ‘at, ya bloody klepto,” he asks, and you shrug. “Not all. Large portion. What do you say we fuck with them?” you suggest, and he raises an eyebrow at you. “And ‘ow d’you reckon we do ‘at?”

“Well, I, for one, am partial to the jewels and money you mentioned,” you grin at him, and he cocks his head to the side. “You wanna steal the crown jewels? Mate, I ‘ate to break it to ya but it’s not just one jewel. Or money. It’s a collection of shit.”

“And? You act like I’m a beginner at this shit,” you say, snorting and finishing your water. He smirks. “Serious?”

“Would I ever joke about making rich assholes panic?” you grin, taking your sweatshirt off to reveal your catsuit. You slip on your gloves and wink at him. “Let’s go, mate,” you imitate his accent and he jumps up, opening the portal to his world. “You got a plan?” he asks as the two of you enter, and you shrug. “Not necessarily, but they won’t even know I’m there.”

“Cocky, ain’t we?” Hobie teases and you giggle, shrugging. “I’m good at what I do.” “The jewels are protected. And on display. Dunno ‘ow you plan to get ‘em, but I’m excited to see it ‘appen,” he says as you step foot in his flat. You grin. “I have my ways. I say we hit it when it’s like 2am. Which luckily for us is in… right now, actually.”

“Ain’t this late gonna be expected?”

“Yes. I love a challenge,” you smirk and he shakes his head. “You’re mental.”

“But you like it.”

“Love it. No one ever actually wants to do shit like this with me,” he says and you shake your head. “Can’t imagine why. This is about to be so fun,” you smirk, and he nods, giving you a fist bump. “So just ‘ow are wee expectin’ this to go down? Am I meant to come inside with ya?,” he asks and you shrug. “Didn’t expect you to, honestly. Figured you’d be distracting the cops so I can get in there anyways,” you explain and he nods. “I can do ‘at. If I’m lurkin’ round the guards’ll ‘ave a fit.”

“Your accent gets thicker when you’re home, how is that even possible?” you say your thoughts out loud, and he rolls his eyes. “What is it with all of you and my accent. ’s just the way I talk,” he grumbles, and you laugh. “Because you get so annoyed by it. At least that’s why I do it,” you say, and he shakes his head. “No wonder Miguel ‘ates you.”

“Hey! He doesn’t hate me! He just strongly disapproves of all of my life choices and urges me not to speak to him most of the time,” you feign offense, and Hobie holds his hands up in surrender. “Now, where are these jewels held?” you ask looking out at the city through his window. He looks out, pulling his mask on. “Tower of New London. They moved the most important pieces overseas so the new Queen could ‘ave a second coronation over ‘ere. ‘ave ‘em on display for the public to see. Make money off it,” he explains and you scoff. “That’s fucking stupid. Are you sure they’re real?”

“Oh, yeah. No doubt. Like I said, they love flauntin’ their wealth,” he says, and you grimace. “Gross. Can’t wait to take them,” you say with a smirk. “Need a lift, love?” he asks, holding his arm out for you to grab onto him. “Would love one, mate, thanks for offering.” You wrap your arms around his neck, and he grips onto you. He jumps out of his window, webbing to the New Tower of London which looks a bit out of place in the cityscape belonging to New London, but you can see why they hold the jewels here. “It’s like a small castle,” you mumble, and Hobie nods. “Fuckin’ annoyin’ ‘ow everythin’ ‘as to be so over the top,” he says as the two of you land in an alleyway across the street, hidden in the shadows. You scope out the place. “You weren’t kidding. Guards are everywhere,” you mumble and he nods. You point to a part of the castle that isn’t well-lit, a wall on the side of one of the watch towers. “We can climb that,” you say, and he nods. “Time to go make the wankers freak,” he says, and the two of you sneak over. The two of you scale the wall of the walkway surrounding the main part of the tower undetected, making your way to the wall you pointed out earlier. You use your claws to climb up while Hobie uses his spider powers.

You hoist yourself up onto one of the platforms, ducking down and hiding behind a wall to figure out what your next move is. Hobie was right beside you. “I think… this might be where we part,” you whisper, and he nods. “Don’t die, yeah? Lotta paperwork I don’t feel like doin’,” he says before swinging away to distract the guards. You scoff. You watch as guards run off in the direction he was spotted in and make your move. You run to the wall of the next building, climbing it and hiding from the guards on the top of the roof. You quickly sneak to the other side of the roof, only to see that the middle of the castle is connected to nothing. “So that’s why they call it a fucking tower,” you mumble, scaling down the side of the wall and into the grassy lawn.

You assess the situation. You know there are guards in those watchtowers, but that would probably be the easiest and most efficient way for you to get in. You just need them to be distracted enough for you to run across the lawn and over to one of them. As if on cue, you hear Hobie play a chord. Loudly. You smile to yourself. Perfect.

You sprint across the lawn, being sure to stay as shrouded by shadow as you can, and luckily for you multiple guards are on edge and running to wear the guitar noise came from. You hear them calling Hobie some… choice words and chuckle. He’ll be so happy to know they hate him so much. You quickly start to scale up the watchtower, looking out just in case a guard might see you.

You were in the clear.

You reach the top, quietly peering into the tower, and see a guard looking out of the opposite window. You climb through the window you’re in front of, not making a sound, before sneaking past the guard. You quietly hurry down the stairs, and peer through a large archway. You search for cameras, pulling out your small throwing knives to break them if needed. You spot two, hitting them with deadly correct aim. You scoff, sneaking out and making your way to some large double doors. They’re locked, of course, so you use your claws. You pick the lock, quietly pushing it open and slipping through. Sure enough, your intuition was right, and now you’re in the room with probably billions or trillions of dollars. You glance around to see if there are any guards inside the room. None. Strange. “Come to mama,” you mumble, taking out a vial of chalk dust and blowing it. Yep. Lasers. That’s fine.

You start crawling, flipping, and sliding your way through the lasers, collecting a few gemstones, a staff, an all-gold orb with a crown on it, a giant fucking diamond, and finally, a purple crown endowed with gold and jewels. You collect them one by one, placing them in a bag you have laying where the lasers start. You shake your head. Relying on lasers is never a good idea for people trying to protect their things. For you? Amazing. You sneak back out, closing the door and glancing around. You hear the faint noise of screams and an electric guitar. Hobie’s still got them distracted. Good.

You run up the way you came. This was almost too easy, but then again, you are skilled at what you do. Too bad your dumbass forgot there was a guard up here. “Oi!”

“Oh! Hi, there. If you don’t mind, I’ll just be on my way,” you say, slinking towards a window. Unluckily for you, he pulls out a sword. Though he does have a gun, so… guess it could be worse? “I’m like, totally not telling you that I’d prefer the bullets… but why a sword when you have that?” you say as he takes a swipe at you and you dodge it. He doesn’t respond, and you frown. “I heard you speak earlier, bro. I know you can,” you backflip away from him, tossing the jewels to the side and getting ready to fight. “Seems a little… redundant, you know? Like why even carry a gun if you’re not gonna use it.”

“Pipe down, cow,” he growls as you continue dodging his attacks. “Well, now, that just wasn’t very nice. Clearly, no one has ever raised you to treat women with respect,” you say, using your claws to catch the sword in your hands. His eyes widen as you yank the sword away from him. You kick him in the side of the head, disorienting him before swiping his legs out from underneath him. He falls down, hard, and you stick a loose part of his uniform with his sword into the bricks below him. “Would love to stick around and chat, but I have some jewels to sell.” You wave, picking up your bag and leaping out of the window, using your claws to slide down the wall. You sprint across the lawn, being careful to stay in the shadows, and make your way back out to the wall you and Hobie climbed earlier. You lay low, hoping that Hobie can deduct you’re done and give you a quick getaway, but it’s never that easy. You slide down the wall again, hearing the commotion of the guards starting to race around and search the perimeter, so you stay hidden. You make your way back across the street and into the alley that you and Hobie were in earlier. You send him a quick message on your watch before climbing up one of the buildings.

You watch as across the street chaos ensues. And you smirk to yourself knowing that you have the riches of a family that never deserved them. You hear a familiar voice screaming, “What?! Ya didn’t like the show! I played jus’ for you bloody lot, ’n ‘is is ‘ow ‘m repaid?!”

You shake your head as Hobie lands next to you, pulling you behind the door that leads into the building the two of you are on top of. “We should definitely run,” you say, waving the bag towards him and he nods. “Right,” he says, pulling you into him and webbing away again. You lose the guards, and he quickly ducks into his flat. You roll into the room whereas he lands perfectly, and there’s a silence that falls between the two of you. You turn your head to look at him and give him a big smile. “Think I can return any of this shit to the original owners?”

“What ‘ave you got?” he asks, dumping out the bag. He pulls his mask off, genuine shock on his face. “You got it all?!”

“I told you. I’m good at what I do,” you say, picking up the giant diamond. You gasp. “No fucking way. This is—”

“The Koh-I-Noor,” Hobie laughs, picking up the crown and inspecting it. “Bloody tosser wore this on ‘er ‘ead the other day. Now it’s in my ‘ands,” he smiles, tossing it to the side with no regard for caring for it. You hear the heavy gold thump on the ground and shake your head. “How much you think all this’ll go for?”

“Mate, this shit is priceless. I can’t wait to see the look on Pavitr’s face when we show ‘im you got the Kah-I-Noor,” Hobie shakes his head, and you grin. “Well, let’s get it back to my place, yeah? I can display it and the best part is these assholes here will never find any of it.”

“Lead the way, love.”

You enter through a portal into your home, typing a code into a painting that opens like a door. You allow Hobie to see your treasure room. He’s honestly kind of stunned. You have so many priceless artifacts in here. It’s impressive. “Mate. You are cool as fuck. Jus’ thought ya should know ‘at,” he mumbles, picking up an emerald the size of his head. You chuckle. “I know, Hobie. Now, let’s get this diamond to Pav, shall we?”

As soon as Miguel got the notification that there was disrupt in Hobie’s universe due to someone stealing the Crown Jewels, he had to take a walk.

He was stressed.

───────────────────────────────────

『 tag list 』

@noelsilly* @yunonaneko

*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #spiderpunk x reader #spiderverse x reader #hobie brown #spiderpunk #spiderverse #atsv

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hiiie · 6 months

Text

𓆩♡𓆪 warnings - exhibitionism, creampie, fingering, pussy spanking filthyyyy MINORS DNI!!!

Ughhhh can’t stop thinkin bout..

Electric guitarist!Childe who fucks you up behind the stage before and after the performance as if it’s a ritual, his fans question why he’s always all sweaty when performing on stage, most likely because he caught a glance of a trail of his cum running down your thighs

Electric guitarist!Childe who prefers fucking you in risky places, enjoying the thrill of having to keep quiet or else someone will accidentally stumble upon the both of you, you wouldn’t want to be actually caught by someone do you? Don’t worry, he’s kind enough to shove his fingers in your mouth to muffle your pathetic moans

Electric guitarist!Childe who sticks his dainty fingers in your mouth to muffle out the noises, having you choke and suck on them, wiping it on your tear stained face after

Electric guitarist!Childe who knows how to use his fingers well, going at the right speed and applying the right pressure to your poor clit, he’s the kind to always make your eyes roll back and get a glimpse of heaven, then leaves you begging for more

Electric guitarist!Childe who is teasingly mean to you, always pulling his fingers out when you say you’re about to cum then laughs at you when you whine and complain

Electric guitarist!Childe who looovesss it when you act like a brat, he’ll give your sobbing funny a good spanking session taking his sweet time to tame you and be an obedient slut for him, don’t worry— he’ll reward you by fucking your brains out later on

Electric guitarist!Childe who fantasises about fucking like animals in heat on stage, letting the audience hear how good he treats you, he’s already spurting globes of cum inside you just thinking about it

Electric guitarist!Childe who collects the cum that drips out from your pussy with his fingers and pushes it back in after a good fucking, he does not wanna see them go to waste, oh well he wouldn’t mind dumping another fat load into you later on

Electric guitarist!Childe who never lets you leave without having both of your holes plugged full with his cum, pulling your cute panties up to make sure that it doesn’t leak out

#≡ !! works #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #childe smut #genshin childe #childe x reader #childe #tartaglia smut #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #ajax smut #ajax x reader

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kinq-sleazee · 1 year

Text

MDNI 18+| bimbo!reader , chubby/thicc reader, fantasizing , mean boy meg , JJK frat house !

♔♕♚♛

I can’t stop thinkin’ bout Megumi’s obsession with Yuji’s chunky little bimbo gf.

Hate is a strong word, too strong a word to describe Megumi’s feelings for you. He refuses to give anyone that much energy, especially someone like you.

You’d probably fall within the category of “strongly disliked” when it comes to raven haired man.

It wasn’t anything you did to him, per se— he just found your general existence inconvenient.

Yuji is his fondest associate . Some may even consider them friends. They’d crossed the burning sands together, becoming members of the hallowed house JJK—that kind of thing binds people.

More often than not, they’d spend time together , fuck around, and their rooms were even right next to each others.

This wouldn’t have been a problem if you hadn’t entered their lives.

Megumi considers himself a level headed and loyal guy, but all of that fades once you walk in the room.

Have you no sense of decency ?

That thing that you call a skirt barely pulls over your full hips that sway with each sensual step, making your thighs and ass jiggle in a tantalizing fashion. All he can think about is how good it would look pushed up to your waist while he pounded you from behind.

He’s sure it’d be like a wave every time he bottomed out in your little hole. Probably would use both hands to jiggle and spread your cheeks as he watches you cream around his cock.

Plus, you were always wearing some skimpy little crop top that had all of your fluffy bits on display. Big, juicy tits presented so nicely through the deep v of your top. If he was lucky , you wouldn’t be wearing a bra that day and he could see your nipples pebbling through the fabric.

To have his lips wrapped around those puffy brown mounds would be heavenly. Swirling his tongue softly around the peak just to bite down harshly when you least expected it. He figured that you’re probably a squirmer so he’d have to use one hand to hold you down by your soft tummy. His eyes would probably roll to the back of his head feeling your flesh spill through his fingers while he toyed with your tits.

And god— your perfect fucking mouth. He has spent so many nights fucking his fist to the thought of you swallowing around his cock. Looking all dumb and pretty with teary eyes, gloss stained cheeks and drool on your chin. Megumi likes it sloppy— he’d wrap his hand around your neck for leverage and plunge into your throat until ropes of cum mixed with foamy saliva fell down your torso.

He really disliked you.

You make it so hard to be a good friend.

Like right now you’re standing at the door waiting to be let in. Nobody’s here, won’t be for another hour or so. It would be too easy to invite you in to wait on your precious “Yuu”. He’d even offer to keep you company on his friend’s bed. It wouldn’t be too hard to pretend to listen to whatever bullshit you were babbling about. You’re so dumb and slutty that you don’t even question it when he says that he’s only rubbing your thighs because his hands are cold. Megumi would have to bite his tongue to keep from laughing when he accuses you of getting turned on and you actually start apologizing.

“I don’t care if you didn’t mean it. You got my fingers all wet and m’hard now. It’s your responsibility to fix it”.

That’s all it would take to have you bouncing on his cock, head thrown back while he sucks on one nipple and pinches the other.

Yuuji wouldn’t mind right ?

#♛♚|the king speaks #jujutsu megumi #megumi x reader #megumi smut #megumi x black reader #jjk x black reader #jjk smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro x reader

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judeswhore · 1 year

Text

dreaming ‘bout you; jude bellingham

summary: jude cant help but find your over active imagination adorable even if it does leave him in your bad books

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader

requested: yes

notes: you can find my masterlist here.

you poked your finger into jude's ribs, once lightly and the second time a little harder, glaring down at his sleeping form. his arm had slipped around your waist when you'd twisted and sat up, settled now in your lap and you pushed it off you with a soft huff. again your finger pushed into the bare skin of his side and he finally squirmed, his dark brows drawing together in a harsh frown, face contorting into a tired grimace.

"jude." you hissed his name with another jab and he wriggled away, threw one arm over his eyes while he swatted you away with the other.

"stop it."

"wake up."

"what're you-" he grumbled when you tugged his pillow out from under his head and he fell flat on to the mattress. "babe, seriously what the fuck?" he finally managed to pry his eyes open, narrowed them in your direction before pushing up on to his elbows. he glanced at his watch, left on the bedside table before groaning again, pulling his pillow back from you only to smush it over his face. "have you seen the time?"

"you cheated on me." your words were muttered low in the dark room but you knew jude had heard you when his entire body went stiff. he was silent for a second before poking his head out from behind the pillow, complete confusion and bewilderment mixed with his sleepy expression. usually the half asleep look and the groggy voice would have you melting, pushing into his body so he could wrap his arms around you and kiss your head. but not now, not when the images of those same arms wrapped around someone else were so fresh in your mind.

"i did what?"

"you cheated on me."

"what?" your words had rattled the sleep completely from him and you watched as he pushed into a sitting position, the pillow falling back into place. his eyes tracked your face as though something in your expression would give any indication that you were joking. "what are you talking about? i haven't cheated on you." jude rubbed the heel of his palm into his eye as your frown slowly slipped into an over dramatic pout.

"in my dream. you were away and i kept getting all these messages and-"

"your dream?" he cut you off with a shake of his head, his chin dropping down a little as he stared at you in bewilderment. it was a little after four a.m, the sky still dark out, not a single sound coming in from the street below and here you were, prodding him awake because he'd cheated in your dream.

"yes. everyone kept sending me pictures and videos of you with some girl in a club. she was all over you and you kept grabbing at her. you kissed her forehead!" jude raised his eyebrows and rolled his lips inward in an attempt to keep the laughter bay but his amusement was quickly overriding his previous confusion. the betrayal in your voice over the forehead kiss admittedly caused a slight pull in his chest because forehead kisses were your thing, he kissed you there constantly, left his lips lingering for moments at a time as his silent way of saying he loved you. he understood why that might have annoyed you most. but still it was a dream and he couldn't quite believe you were actually upset with him.

"i did this in your dream?"

"yes."

"and you're annoyed at me? because of something i did in your dream?"

"yes, keep up.” you were still half glaring at him, the slight upward curve of his lips adding to your momentary annoyance. of course it was ridiculous, you had no reason to actually be upset with jude because he hadn’t actually cheated but you couldn’t help what your brain made you think about in your sleep. you also couldn’t help the nauseous twist in your stomach and the tug in your chest that wouldn’t go away every time you thought about jude’s hands on someone else.

“but i didn’t actually do anything. you can’t be mad at me for something dream me did. what if i got mad at dream you for stealing the last of my cookies?” he was trying to joke but it only pulled a bigger pout from you, your fingers prodding into his side again.

“that’s different. you were practically fucking her in front of everyone.” jude groaned low in his throat and flopped back on the bed, his arm once again falling over his face. he kicked your leg with his foot beneath the duvet.

“i wasn’t! i can’t believe you’re pouting over this.”

“m’not pouting.” he threw you a glance and lifted his hand to poke at your lips, his fingers playfully shoving your cheek.

“that right there is a pout, sweetheart. and you’re glaring at me like you’re tryna explode my head. it wasn’t real.” with a grimace you shoved his hand out of the way and jude gave a little grin, his attempt at hiding his amusement futile. his fingers wrapped around your wrist and he tugged, pulled your body towards his. “stop giving me that look and c’mere.”

despite the lingering jealousy that was still settled inside of you you let him draw you into him, pulling until you were settled into his side, your arm against his chest to keep you propped up. jude was leant back against his pillow, his own body half propped up and he pressed one hand against your lower back, his other resting on his elbow so he could cup your cheek. he brushed a soothing thumb beneath your eye.

“if you keep glaring at me like that your face will get stuck.”

“i can’t believe you kissed her forehead.”

“i can’t believe you’ve got your knickers in a twist over a dream.” jude was smirking, his lips tilting further and further into a grin, nose scrunching when he gave a light laugh. he lifted to press a kiss to your mouth. “you’re an idiot.”

“it’s not funny!”

“you’re cute when you’re angry and being ridiculous.”

“it could definitely happen. y’know how many girls would throw themselves at you if you were in a club?”

“i dunno? a lot.” you narrowed your eyes, flicked beneath his chin but he only laughed, a tired sort of giggle that managed to make your tummy flutter. he took ahold of your hand and held it firmly against his chest to avoid any more of your quick jabs. “why’s it matter? i never even think about entertaining other girls whether they throw themselves at me or not. and i didn’t actually cheat why are you being mean?”

“because i’m mad.” you let your head drop, face pressed flat into against jude’s chest so you could hide away from his gaze. he was warm and still smelled of soap and his body shifted against yours, his hand slipping a little further up your back, fingers teasing as they inched your top up higher. “forehead kisses are my thing. how am i supposed to let you kiss me now without thinking of her?”

“i forget my dreams all the time, maybe if you’d gone back to sleep instead of trying to beat me up you would have forgotten about it by tomorrow.”

“god, i’m gonna feel sick whenever you’re near me.”

“you’re so fuckin’ dramatic y’know that? it’s a shock to me that you weren’t a drama kid.” jude tugged lightly on your earlobe, tickled his fingers over your side until you squirmed against him.

“least i’m not a cheater.”

“ridiculous, you’re honestly ridiculous.” he was mumbling under his breath and with quick movements he’d flipped the two of you, your back landing on the mattress as he hovered over you. “have a guess how many weird dreams i’ve had about you, i don’t start accusing you of anything.” soft lips found the tender skin of your throat, hot and teasing as they skirted your pulse, teeth nipping lightly. “what am i gonna have to do to say sorry that dream me is a whore?”

“you can stop making fun of me.”

“awe baby,” jude kissed over your jaw, bumped his nose against yours with that heartbreaking grin. he pecked your mouth. “s’not my fault my girl is all jealous and dramatic.”

“my jealously is reasonable.”

“you’re jealous over someone you made up, doesn’t sound very reasonable to me.” with both elbows settled by your head he was pressed completely against your body, warm and heavy and comforting and you didn’t miss the subtle press of his hips to yours. he pressed another fleeting kiss to your lips and urged one of your legs up and around his waist. “i promise not to sleep with any girls in clubs or give them forehead kisses.” the tilt to his mouth and the lilt in his voice was a clear indication he was still teasing you and in response you rolled your eyes, turned your head to avoid his next kiss.

“you’re not funny.”

“i’m a little funny. maybe that’s why i was so popular in your dream, you made me too perfect.”

“are you seriously defending your slutty self right now?”

“you know i would never.” jude rolled his hips forward again, eyes sparking with mischief, growing just slightly darker when the sound of your hitched breath met his ears. “why don’t you let me say sorry hmm? remind you that i’m all yours?” he kissed you soft and slow, his mouth hot and sinful, just desperate enough to tug a low moan from your chest. “gonna give that brain of yours something new to dream about.”

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham fluff

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techs-goggles9902 · 2 months

Note

Soft!Crosshair and fem!reader please

Maybe with something about his hand tremors?

Why did you wait for me? - Soft!Cross x fem!reader

REQUESTS OPEN FOR ALL LISTED FANDOMS. READ TERMS BEFORE REQUESTING ON MY MASTERLIST

Word count: 767

Warnings: none? Lmk if I missed something

A/N: Hey, I really wanna know who these anons are or if they’re the same person so I can thank you for these requests!!!! Sorry if this feels rushed or anything. I will happily rewrite it next week if requested. I’ve been sick since Sunday and I feel like trash :P

Ever since he came back, he’s been… off. His calloused fingers, his eyes, his voice, all once so familiar, now somewhat foreign.

But he’s your Crosshair, he always comes around. You’re his girl. This is no different. Right? And, he always comes back. It’s only been a few hours since the Marauder landed on Padu’s upper level, your home, at the crack of dawn. You were roused by that familiar chime on your comlink.

What the hell, Hunter, you thought when you woke. Couldn’t he wait a few more hours until your alarm went off?

He couldn’t, which you now know.

You met the batch while they were on leave a few years back, fell in love with that tall, lanky sniper of theirs. Once Order 66 happened, Hunter advised you to come with them since Crosshair wasn’t the man you met anymore.

You found Pabu, where you settled down while the boys didn’t. Could you blame them, though?

“Stop staring at me like that, Cross,” you say as you cook him breakfast in your warm kitchen, feeling his gaze dig holes in the back of your head as he sits at the island.

“I’m sorry… I just can’t…” he pauses, swallowing. “I can’t believe you actually waited for me.”

“How could I not? You’re you. No matter what Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum say,” You turn, about to scrape the eggs onto his plate when you see his watery eyes. Those dark irises that usually pierce into people’s souls now desperately gaze into your own.

“I… I did a lot of bad things. Why do you still love me?” He whispers as you slowly put down the pan of eggs. You step around the island to embrace the sniper, his face buried into your sternum.

“Shhh… You didn’t have a choice, back at Tantiss.” His shaky hands lock around the fabric of your shirt. He doesn’t make any sound, just lets the tears stream down his narrow face, catching on his stubble.

“That doesn’t answer my question, love.”

You sigh, cupping his tear stained face in your soft palms. “I loved you during the war, loved you when you left on missions, I loved you when you joined the Empire. This is no different. You’re mine, I’m yours.”

His eyes widen ever so slightly as he gazes up at you, for once.

“How ‘bout we get some food, real food, in you and then we’ll talk?” You softly ask, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“Yeah… Yeah, okay.” He nods and you let him go to slide the eggs onto his plate. Watching him eat, you see the muscles working in his jaw as he chews, his temporalis bulging with each bite.

You haven’t seen him since… Kamino. You begged, pleaded for him to join the batch. You remember how he declined and begged for you to join the Empire, they’ll understand, he said.

He finishes eating and you scoop up his plate, turning away to put it in the sink. When you turn around, he’s gone off to your bedroom. You follow, thinking, I bet he hasn’t slept in a while. I mean, really slept.

He stops in the doorway of your room, turning back to you. He quietly asks, “Can I…”

“You don’t need to ask me for anything. What’s mine is yours.”

You sit against your headboard, his head in your lap. Before, you used to card your hands through his silver curls. Now… You make due with caressing his growing follicles, careful of his lumpy, dented scar.

His hands tremble as they lie against your knee. You tap his fingertip.

“Are you scared?” You ask.

“What? No, why?”

“Your hands.”

“Oh… It just came one day.”

“Tell me… What happened?” You tenderly take his shaking hand in your own and you run your fingers over his too-short nails. Hemlock must’ve had them cut so he wouldn’t claw someone’s eyes out.

Poor Cross… Hemlock’s dying for this.

“You remember the shadows?”

“Mmhmm. The clone assassins.”

“He… Hemlock tried to recondition me into one… I was tested…” He doesn’t have to finish his explanation.

You’re quiet for a beat before you say, “I’m sorry, Cross…”

“Don’t be. You couldn’t do anything.”

“You know, a friend of mine has tremors, too. We can try exercises to… help cope, if you’d like,” you say, pressing your thumb pad down onto his knuckles for a gentle massage.

“I’ll give it a shot, love,” Crosshair says, rolling onto his back to look up at you.

“I love you, Crosshair.”

“I love you too, riduur. You’re my girl.”

Riduur = spouse in Mando’a

Taglist: @will-is-silly @fionajames @sevdidntdie @dangraccoon @skellymom @hellhound5925 LMK IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED OR TAKEN OFF TAGLIST

Dividers by @ saradika

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1d1195 · 3 months

Text

My Friend's Toyota I

🎶 here she is! Based on the song of the same name, by Asiris 💕 I wanted to write this before spring arrived. It's just a few parts (I'm thinking 4 right now) only because the first part got so long 🤭

~8k words

Warnings: college!Harry but otherwise none really. Just wanted to write a cute romantic story. Maybe the tiniest bit of angst (but maybe not in this part just yet). This part is a little ramble-y but I promise it'll come together quick.

But this... angel he had bumped into...

She was going to star in all his fantasies now.

Can’t believe September’s already over / Looked for stars and I found a supernova / praying to God that I can hold her close / ‘Cause I know she’s worried ‘bout the snow / She said “Darling, should I bring a coat?”

Harry thought he was more excited to go to university than anyone had ever been. “For drinking right?” his friends from school asked with a laugh. They chatted about it all the time during the summer before they all left their hometown in favor of the new chapter of their lives. Harry liked drinking, sure. It was fun but he enjoyed hanging out with his friends more. At least when they were in university they wouldn’t be drinking illegally anymore.

But Harry was a bit of a hopeless romantic.

He believed university was the surefire way to meet the love of his life. The person who would knock him off his feet, make his heart grow three sizes too big for his chest, and simply just... feel like he was right where he was supposed to be.

The first semester of university came and went.

Harry didn’t meet the love of his life.

He had Mitch. His roommate and one of his best friends from home. But Mitch was in love with their friend Sarah and unfortunately, he didn’t feel the same way about Mitch as Sarah felt about him. But that was okay. He still had lots of time to find the person that would make his stomach flutter.

But spring semester came and went too.

Harry tried to find her. He went on dates with several women he met in classes and at parties. He heard the whispers and rumors about him. It made him a little sad that some of the women he went out with never corrected the rumors. His longest relationships were no more than a month, but Harry couldn’t help it that he didn’t feel the spark he was looking for and ended things before they really got going.

It was supposed to be all-encompassing. Make him breathless. Knock him to his knees. Maybe he was being ridiculous. At the age of almost twenty he was being unrealistic to want something like that. He was young. There was plenty of time for love.

But was it so bad that he wanted it now?

His dorm room with Mitch was a suite and they each had their own rooms. They decorated the main room with the help of Sarah to make it homey (and also stopped them before they used empty vodka bottles as décor). Their dorm was one of the “party” dorms, but they rarely hosted. Harry and Mitch wanted their place to be a safe place. It rarely saw more than ten people—and that was only when he and Mitch were pre-gaming with other friends to go to a party off campus. Sometimes Harry brought his friends back if they had too much to drink. It made him feel better knowing they were in a safe place. Sarah even brought back a girl that was too drunk to make any good decisions of her own accord. Harry minded over her with worry because the poor thing was all but sobbing as she threw up most of the night and whined about how sad she was.

Harry actually dated her for about a month after—some kind of savior complex that he should have known doomed their relationship from the start.

So, he kept waiting to find the love of his life. But he couldn’t help but feel discouraged as he complained to his mum and Gemma over the summer that he didn’t find her that first year.

“Honey bunny, it’s too early to think like that,” Anne smirked. “You’re so young.”

He shrugged. “I guess. M’jus’... Mitch has Sarah,” he reminded them.

“I know, but...” Gemma smiled sadly at him. “You’re not Mitch. It’ll happen when it’s supposed to happen.”

Well Harry didn’t meet her the following year either. Twenty came and went. He continued hearing rumors about his body count. The only ones ready to defend him ever was Mitch and Sarah but he simply didn’t care. The girls he met at parties, bars, in class, they all continued to flirt with him and when Harry felt the hope of a spark, he chose to pursue it—not because of the rumors, not because he felt like he had to in order to find the love of his life, simply because he was young and enjoying his life.

But September of his third year.

Oh.

Harry was appalled that as a third-year student, any of his major professors deigned to have an eight-AM class. It felt like death as he walked with the throng of people headed to the correct buildings when the sun was barely high in the sky. His eyes felt droopy, and he was certain he yawned the entire walk from dorm room to classroom.

His backpack was slung over his shoulders. He shouldn’t have gone out last night. He wasn’t hungover, but he was just so tired. The chance of meeting the love of his life could have been at that party. That wasn’t an opportunity he was willing to miss.

“I told you,” Mitch muttered to him liking eight-AMs more than the average college student. Get it out of the way. He stuck his foot out causing Mitch to stumble a bit and he smirked with a low chuckle. “Idiot,” Mitch grumbled.

Harry didn’t know what he wanted to do with his degree yet. Another component of divine intervention he was hoping would appear in front of him. Love and career. He hoped the universe would help him figure both out sooner rather than later.

Mitch veered off to his own building and Harry counted down the minutes until he could trek back to his dorm room. Harry was yawning—again—and shook his head trying to perk himself up as he made it to the building where his classroom resided on his schedule.

Harry chose a seat in the back of the room. Put his head on the desk and tried not to think about how his bed might be his real soulmate.

Harry was much more awake now that his professor had re-sparked his interest in microeconomics. All his classes were econ-based this year and he was honestly super excited to look at different facets of his major and maybe that was divine intervention. He had four required economic electives: sports, law, history, and statistics. Additionally, he would be taking a math class that was a pre-requisite to the class he needed for next semester. He tried not to think about it too much.

With a pep in his step, he no longer felt like going back to his dorm and sleeping as he told Mitch he would be doing instead of joining him for breakfast. He wanted to go to his next class or the bookstore. He wanted to geek out over the intro lecture he just heard to someone that would care and wouldn’t brush off his nerdiness. What he really wanted was someone to kiss at the end of the day and tell him all about their classes and ask what he wanted to do for dinner—whether it was dining hall food or a date in town.

“Hi Harry,” someone called as he fantasized about his little dream life. He didn’t even see who it was, so he turned to catch a glimpse.

“Hi—” he started to call politely. If it was someone he knew, he didn’t want to be rude. As he turned, he must have shifted into the path of someone else’s walk to class. He bumped into someone with about half of his body. He knocked her phone out of her hand. Also made her stumble off the sidewalk a bit. “Oh, sorry, love,” he said bending for her phone before she could. The water bottle she had tucked in her bag also fell to the ground. “Are you alright?” He was hopeful he didn’t hurt her, but who knows, she could have tweaked her ankle on the edge of the walk and Harry would have felt horrendous for the whole rest of the day.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” her voice was a bit rushed. “I just transferred here this semester, and I’m all turned around and I’m going to be late—”

Harry glanced up at her having gathered her belongings from the dewy grass and finally caught her gaze. She stopped speaking when Harry looked at her. He swore his heart stopped. They were off the sidewalk, now. People were walking quickly to and from their classes. Harry could feel the gaze of people who knew him as he walked by. Trying to figure out who the girl was he was talking to.

Harry knew he hadn’t found the love of his life yet due to lack of connection. They liked Harry well enough, and he honestly was fortunate to have had a few girlfriends who were kind, intelligent, and pretty. Those he had dated the past two years simply didn’t scratch that itch for the fantasy he had: asking about his day, telling him about hers, and what did they want to do for dinner.

But this... angel he had bumped into...

She was going to star in all his fantasies now.

They hadn’t spoken in thirty seconds while Harry dreamed of happily ever after with her. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Where are y’headed?” He asked quietly.

She shook her head rapidly and pulled her phone from his hands. Harry tried to memorize everything about this moment. The concentrated expression on her face while she scanned her phone screen. “Umm... Livingston 210,” she sighed. “Am I going the complete wrong way?” She asked nervously. “God this is so embarrassing. I spent all day yesterday walking around trying to map out my paths and I had to park in a different lot, and I am the worst with maps and directions,” she rambled.

“No, no,” Harry shook his head. “S’this way. Let me walk you,” he offered. “You’re fine,” he promised glancing at his own watch. “You’ll... you’ll be early,” he reassured her.

She blew out a relieved breath. “Really? Don’t you have a class to get to?” She asked. “I don’t want to put you out—”

He shook his head quickly. “No, not... not at all, love,” he murmured. “M’happy t’do it. Got a break before m’next class.”

Her face took on this gorgeous smile that Harry wasn’t sure he would ever be able to forget. The relief was palpable. It seemed almost excessive, like he was a doctor and told her that she wasn’t ill and not that her class was only about a three-minute walk. But Harry adored that smile. The way her eyes lit up along with the curve of her lips. “Thank you, so so much. I’m so nervous and know absolutely no one—except my roommate. But she doesn’t have class until noon. Plus, my transfer credits went in late last week so the schedule I had planned is all different than the one I made in June. I really almost considered just leaving and transferring back—”

He chuckled at her little ramble. He liked it a lot. Way more than he probably should have for having met her only ninety seconds prior. He wondered if she always did that. The need to find out was nearly unbearable. How could he prolong the conversation? How could he get her number in the next two minutes it took her to walk to her class? “C’mon,” he tilted his head toward the direction he had come from.

Was he being ridiculous? Maybe.

But this was what he wanted. The way his heart stopped. He couldn’t ignore that. Was he holding his breath? Was she feeling the same warm tension that was covering his entire body with the need to look at her? This was it. She hadto be it. The love of his life. The first day of third year. His heart felt... whole.

“Oh good, this is familiar,” she sighed with relief. Chuckling, Harry held the building door open for her to pass through. “Do you like candy?” She asked as she entered.

Blinking curiously, Harry wondered if she had some conversation in her head that he wasn’t privy to that resulted in such a question. “M’sorry?”

“Candy?”

“Uh, yeah. Of course,” he smiled at her curiously.

“Okay, I’ll get you candy as a thank you for walking me, then,” she promised with an assured nod of her head.

Harry was floored by her kindness to a stranger. It made him feel so overwhelmed that he ignored how ridiculous it all seemed for him to act like this. So that meant she wanted to see him again. He chuckled. “Y’don’t have t’do that, love. S’not out of m’way,” he reminded her.

“I know... but you don’t know me, and you look important.”

“Look important?” He repeated dumbly and gestured to the stairwell for her to ascend. He followed beside her hoping he didn’t look as creepy as he felt feeling so overwhelmed with how he already felt about her.

“I don’t know, everyone was staring at you while we walked over,” she shrugged.

He smirked. But he was surprised he missed that. Usually, he noticed when people called out to him. “Everyone?”

She nodded. “I think a few people even did a double take,” she explained. “So, you must be important.”

He rolled his eyes with another little laugh from his lips. “Uh...I don’t think m’important,” he admitted. They stood a few feet away from the door labeled 210. “S’really no trouble. I jus’ left m’eight AM from here,” he promised. “Was jus’ going t’get breakfast. M’happy t’help.”

“Well, thank you. I really appreciate it. I promise I’ll get you candy,” she said glancing at her watch and then the classroom door. “I like to get a good seat for the lecture. I’ll... see you around...?” She waited for him to fill in the missing information.

“Harry,” he said wiping his hand on his leg before holding it out for her to take. The first time he would touch who he was certain was the love of his life.

“Harry,” she repeated, placing her hand in his while introducing herself as well. “I’ll see you around.”

His heart was aching with something that had to be a cross between infatuation and undeniable love. Her hand felt so nice in his and it was just a handshake. Imagining their fingers twined together made him ache with want. “Wait,” he said right as her hand touched the doorknob. “Where’s y’next class?” He asked. She pulled her phone from her pocket and opened her schedule. “Uh... Sawyer,” she said reading off her phone. Harry’s heart leapt. “312.”

He felt tingles all through his body. From fingertip to his stomach, to the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. “Yeah?” He asked rhetorically. The question was more for the universe; it’s way of telling Harry she was here. “I’ll walk you,” he promised. “We’re in the same class.”

She turned her face briefly from him—maybe an effort to hide the blush that was covering her cheeks and making Harry fall even harder for her. “Yeah?” She wondered.

He nodded. “I’ll meet y’at the front of the building when class gets out, yeah?”

She smiled. “Okay, thanks, Harry,” she sighed with relief heading through the doorway. “Enjoy your break,” she called over her shoulder.

Harry floated back down the steps. Honestly, he wanted to wait outside her classroom, but he just met her, and he wanted—no needed—this to work. Wanted it to work more than anything. The smile plastered on his face had his cheeks hurting but he couldn’t stop. He nearly sprinted to the closest dining hall where he told Mitch he would meet him for breakfast.

“Sorry, m’late. I jus’ met the woman m’going t’marry,” his voice was all airy, falling into a seat beside Mitch with a dreamy look on his face.

“Whoa,” Mitch chuckled. “You look sick.”

“I feel sick,” he laid down onto a second chair. Backpack still on. He looked like an idiot, but he couldn’t help it. He was in love.

“Glad you met her, Harry. Finally, right? Can you act like an adult?” Mitch muttered cutting up the waffle he had on his plate. Sitting up he smiled at his friend.

“We have class together next.”

“Isn’t that your math class?” He wondered. He thought about the schedule Harry was insistent about putting on the fridge so they could find each other if needed while at home. For emergencies. But Mitch didn’t understand why the schedule needed to be on the fridge if Harry made him commit it to memory anyway.

“Yeah, so?”

“You hate math.”

“No one likes math,” he grumbled.

“Maybe she does. Maybe she’s not your soulmate.”

“Shut up,” he dropped his bag in his seat and headed to get food. Upon returning with his tray, about three other people said hello to him. One girl stopped him asking if he was coming to her party this weekend and one of the guys that he knew from his pickup soccer games asked if he was available tomorrow night for a game at the rec field. “If she likes math then... jus’ mean she completes me. Still m’soulmate,” he shrugged.

“You got an answer for everything,” Mitch laughed.

Harry found her sitting on the barrier wall to the mini garden outside the building. One of her legs stretched along the length of the cement ledge and the other dangled off the side. With the need to get her to class on time, Harry didn’t have time to ogle her at all. But now, as he approached her, he noted she was wearing a pair of jeans and a pair of trainers. Obviously, her worry about being late to class must have meant she considered sprinting if it got late enough. Her T-shirt was this light orange-pink color. Like she was modeling a sunset. She had a book propped on her thigh and she leaned over reading, like she was simultaneously doing yoga while reading.

“Hey,” he called. Her head perked up and she smiled, putting a bookmark in between the pages and swinging her leg over to say hi.

“Hi!” She chirped excitedly. “I was afraid I missed you when I ran back inside.”

Back inside? He frowned. “Did y’class end early?”

“Yeah... almost a half hour ago,” she shrugged hopping off the ledge. “Syllabus and all. Doesn’t happen that often to me—I’m majoring in accounting and finance, so all my classes just jump right into the lectures and lessons. But this is a sociology class that my other school didn’t offer but I have to take here to graduate,” she explained with an eyeroll. “They were insistent.”

“M’sorry y’had to wait,” he frowned.

“Don’t be sorry,” she smiled. “I got to read a bit and—oh!” She twisted her backpack around her body and into the zip pocket. She retrieved whatever item she was looking for and held it out for him to take. “For walking me,” her voice was so sweet.

Harry felt his jaw fall open just a bit as she placed the Twix bar in his hand. “Twix is my favorite, but I got Starbursts too if that’s more your vibe. Reese’s if you like peanut butter. I wanted a variety just in case and it won’t go to waste regardless—”

“Twix is m’favorite, too,” he said turning the bar over in his hands. He looked up at her as if she really was placed right in his path. Fate. Out of nowhere. Like a star exploding out in the universe and dropping this angel in its spot.

She smiled. “Excellent,” she said. “Where’s Sawyer, then?” She asked while zipping her bag again and heading toward the walkway when he walked her to the building earlier. “I want a good seat,” she reminded him. Since she got him his favorite candy bar—and simply because she existed and was without a doubt going to be his favorite, period—he wanted to make sure she got the seat she wanted.

He wanted to make sure she got whatever she wanted.

Was it normal to want to hold someone’s hand like this? Harry’s immediate thought was no. It wasn’t normal. Wanting to hold hands with someone the way he was craving to hold her hand had to be the most abnormal thing in existence. Every Tuesday and Thursday for the next three weeks, he waited outside Livingston, watching her descend the front staircase to the main floor. They chatted the entire ten-minute walk to Sawyer where they shared a math class. She insisted on sitting closer to the front than Harry would ever consider but he was immediately enamored with how sweet she was and there was no way he could let someone else sit beside her.

Tuesdays and Thursdays were slowly becoming his favorite days of the week. They were his weekend even with a packed schedule on the two days. Talking to her was everything he had been longing for the last two years of school.

On Sunday, he slept until almost ten-thirty. He was lying in bed while scrolling through his array of social media and other correspondences. He heard the shower running, so either Sarah or Mitch must have been well after a night of drinking.

Three weeks. After three weeks of pining and walking her to and from class, he got an email on a Sunday.

The subject line read: Be-Twix you and me I’m glad we’re friends. He threw himself out of his bed and paced the main room trying to figure out if it was Mitch or Sarah in the shower. He knocked. “Sarah!”

“Sorry, Harry. She’s sleeping,” Mitch called.

He opened the door anyway. “She emailed me.”

“How 2002 of her,” he snorted.

“You’re useless,” Harry grumbled closing the door shut. He truly considered barging into Mitch’s room and waking Sarah for a girl’s opinion but after doing the very same and seeing way more than he was supposed to of his two friends, he opted for figuring it out himself. He vaguely wondered if there was a way to open an email faster. He must have read it a thousand times and it was only four sentences long.

Hi Harry!

I was wondering if you would want to study for our exam together? I like having someone to study with, but if that’s not your vibe I understand :) Let me know either way! This is my number if you would prefer texting.

Harry thought there were no prettier ten numbers than the ones that formed her phone number. He was immediately ready to text her but luckily had the wherewithal of checking the time stamp of the email to see if he was looking desperate but struggling to care. Fortunately, the email was from a little after seven-thirty.

He could have chatted with her for three hours longer if he hadn’t slept so late.

Hi, it’s Harry 😊

Hi! Glad my email didn’t scare you off. My roommate said that my Twix pun was horrendous.

It’s adorable. Thank you for emailing. I’d love to study. I work until five... I can meet you somewhere?

Do you like coffee?

I love coffee 😊

Do you think it will be cold around five? I’m still getting used to the weather around here. I want to bring a coat.

Harry made a mental note to pack an extra sweatshirt in case she got too cold. Can’t hurt to bring one. You never know what the weather will do around here.

Forty minutes a week.

Forty blissful, perfect minutes in the month of September had been spent chatting with the stranger that bumped into her on the first day of the fall semester. The sun was warm despite the breeze chilling her skin. It wasn’t nearly enough time but she somehow managed to fall incredibly hard for him anyway.

It was a bit ridiculous.

Her roommate—and only friend—was also a transfer student. However, Allie was much more outgoing than she was. That wasn’t to say she didn’t have fun; it was just different than how Allie enjoyed herself. Allie made friends everywhere she went. Their off-campus but university-owned apartment was always in flux of visitors from her classes, her club tennis team, or just someone she met while eating lunch in the dining hall between classes.

Allie was a good judge of character though, so she never worried about someone of bad rapport traipsing through their place. Also, Allie was always sure to keep everyone away from her room, of course.

But Allie had no problem flopping on her bed around ten in the morning and nosily glancing over her shoulder. She had left her email open anxiously waiting for a reply from the most handsome guy she had ever had the pleasure of meeting. “Be-Twix?! Sweetie, that’s atrocious,” she rolled her eyes. She groaned in response.

“I... I don’t know,” her face felt hot with shame. She really liked Harry. “It seemed like a good idea at the time... maybe that’s why he’s not answering me,” she frowned.

“Maybe he just sleeps like a normal college student and doesn’t wake up at the ass-crack of dawn,” she said knowingly patting her knee reassuringly.

“Have you seen the leaves?” She whispered almost in awe. “I went for a walk to get a bagel and—”

“I’ve seen them,” Allie smiled with a shake of her head at her silly friend. The adoration she had for little things was admirable, sweet, and just... if Harry Styles broke her heart, she would break his face. “I lived here my whole life, remember?”

But she didn’t live here her whole life. So, she was in awe—her first true fall since she was a toddler that she didn’t even remember. There were pictures of her jumping into a pile of leaves with her mom that her dad had just painstakingly raked. The south didn’t have pretty leaves like this in the fall. Palm leaves didn’t change color other than wilting brown when it was too hot. She intended to spend every minute looking at the beautiful hues of orange, red, and yellow so as not to miss the pretty season she hadn’t gotten to enjoy for most of her life.

After another agonizing thirty minutes of waiting for him to respond (and breathing with sweet relief that he did want to see her later) she told Harry that she was worried about it being cold later in the evening. She had grown up closer to the Tropic of Cancer which was now roughly 15 degrees south of her current latitude. She hated the heat; it made her skin feel dirty and oily with sweat all summer long. Her hair was too thick, her skin naturally too warm. Just thinking about her thighs sticking to her leather car seat in July was horrific.

But her parents had grown up and met here on this pretty autumn-picturesque campus. Somewhere not quite freezing (at least not yet, so she had been told) but not quite suffocating with heat like home. They left here when she was two to situate themselves in Hell’s sauna room. After taking the general requirement classes at a state school, she wanted to transfer up north to the university where her parents fell in love. Call her a hopeless romantic, but if she hadn’t found the love of her life amongst the bathing suit, half-clad guys on the beach during the last two spring breaks, then he probably wasn’t in the south. Instead, she hoped she might find him around the ski slopes.

She hadn’t anticipated finding Harry before her first class started.

Forty minutes.

That was how much time Harry generously gave her outside their shared class combined on Tuesday and Thursday each week.

She wanted more. Greedy with want and didn’t know how to do it without tying it to school. Part of her worried because what if he just pitied her and now didn’t know how to get away from her? They had class together; he couldn’t be rude. Even if he didn’t like her the way she was already falling for him, it was very obvious that Harry was a good person.

“Just be careful,” Allie warned lightly. “Harry has a bit of a reputation I hear.”

She frowned and shrugged. She knew what Allie meant. People around her weren’t exactly subtle and while she listened to music in the dining hall while she ate, or studied in the library, or even just read her book. Those around her whispered. They had seen the pair of them walking to class. Apparently, Harry never looked like that before. The whispers included Harry having plenty of girlfriends. Sometimes two or even three at a time. That just seemed ridiculous, and she felt so sad others talked about him behind his back. There were even quiet bets about how long she would last in the list of Styles’ conquests.

So, she understood that Allie was just trying to look out for her. “Well... I like him. He doesn’t have a reputation around me,” she shrugged. Allie frowned for a moment. She was so sweet.

“Just be careful with your heart,” Allie looked at her with a bit of worry in her eye. But her smile was encouraging. “It’s too good for university guys.”

She had only known Allie about three months longer than she had known Harry. They both moved in at the start of the summer, working off campus and getting to know one another as well as the area (not that it helped her directionally illiterate mind). Allie was lovely and all the things she wanted in a college-best-friend that she never really got from commuting to the local college when she lived down south. “I think you would like him.”

“I can like him and still want someone better for you,” she shrugged leaning in the doorway. She didn’t want to taint the image of perfect Harry. But the stories she heard weren’t easy to ignore. She had seen him at parties since her best friend met him on her way to her sociology class. It was hard to miss him. It was like he was the star of every party.

He drank with his friends and girls obsessed over him. To her friend’s nearly naïve point of view, however, Allie hadn’t seen Harry flirt back. He was helpful and kind to those that drank too much; guiding them outside and gently pulling a girl’s hair back for when she threw up in the shrubs. It was endearing in a lot of ways. But she would still kill him if the rumors of a string of girls was true. If her new best friend was just another notch in his belt, Harry was dead. “You are so sweet to believe in the good in everyone. I just don’t want you to be heartbroken if he isn’t as lovely as you think.”

She smirked looking at the emojis and rapid influx of messages Harry was sending her trying to coordinate timing and picking her up, so she didn’t have to walk. “I won’t,” she promised. But she didn’t say that she thought he was better.

Harry was fifteen minutes late. He blamed the table he was waiting on before he left. They were overbearing and wanted their meal comped—that much was obvious. Looking for the smallest hiccups to rebuke him. Harry begged his manager to seat them in another section. Having waited on them before, but no dice. His heart was in his throat wishing he had time to go home and change but he couldn’t. If he was a moment later, he was sure he was ruining everything.

Unaware of Harry’s worry, she waited patiently on the bench outside the apartment building the university had taken as more dorm suites. She continued reading her book trying not to think about how maybe Harry had better things to do than study for a math class on a Sunday. Especially after work. But he had texted her he was running late, and he was on his way.

She was glad she decided on a coat, it wasn’t freezing, but her thick skin ill-suited for hot weather was already thawing and feeling the chill of the early October weather. She spent an embarrassingly long time sorting through her athleisure wear trying to decide. Something suitable for studying at a coffee shop that wasn’t overstated but not quite sweatpants.

Right when she thought about calling Harry, he appeared in front of the bench. Parking and getting out of his car quickly and hurrying to the passenger side. “I am so sorry,” he said hurriedly dragging a hand through his curls. She admired the motion; enjoying how mussing them didn’t matter much and they fell right back into place. She cleared her throat and shook herself out of her own staring at him.

“For what?”

“M’so late, love. S’rude. M’sorry,” he repeated.

“Oh...it’s...it’s really okay. I was already out here—”

“S’cold,” he frowned eyeing her sweatshirt and the coat at her side.

“I’m okay!” She promised. “Is everything alright?” She asked and stepped toward him putting her hand on his forearm. He thought he might explode at the feeling of her skin on his. It was more intimate than their handshake, and she got the feeling she wanted to twine their fingers together again.

Harry seemed to breathe with a sigh of relief, and he looked at her with this stunned expression. She couldn’t figure out why. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Jus’ felt bad being late.”

“Oh,” she blinked. “That’s okay. I wasn’t in a rush or anything—”

“No, love,” he shook his head. “M’sorry because I wanted t’see you so bad,” he sighed. He ran his hand through his hair again making her heart take off at a speed that had to be unsafe for her health. Almost immediately she felt light-headed. He wanted to see her. He just told her that. There was no hiding it. She could feel that emotion thick in his voice.

“Oh,” she repeated, completely stunned and confused. “Really?” She asked in complete shock.

“Yes, very, very much,” he sighed dreamily.

Her cheeks warmed hotly under his gaze. The pair of them stood there. Staring at one another as if they were statues destined to look at one another for all eternity, frozen in time to capture a moment like theirs. The October air was rapidly cooling, but she couldn’t feel anything but heat. Like she had stepped out of the airport terminal back in the south except this heat was not suffocating. It was so welcoming.

For a few moments they just stood there, her hand touching his forearm, gazing at one another. Part of her thought it would be nice to be a statue on the street. At least if Harry was beside her. Eventually, he shook his head ever so slightly and smirked. “So...coffee?”

She cleared her throat, smiling brightly. “Please.”

Just one week later, she was chatting with a friend from her sociology class. The moment he saw Harry, he knew Harry was there waiting for her, just as he had been since they met a month earlier. Harry recognized him from attending many parties that his frat hosted at one of the houses someone had off campus. His eyes seemed a bit surprised to see Harry waiting at the bottom of the steps, doing a double take at him waiting for the girl he was walking with down the steps.

“Hey Harry,” the guy said quietly.

“Hi!” She chirped gleefully. Her excited smile felt like too much on her face, but she had no way of knowing. She also didn’t notice the turmoil the guy felt seeing the competition between himself and Harry. (If she did know, she would flat out tell him there was no competition—other than school, Allie, and work, her mind was all about Harry.)

“Hi,” he said politely with a smile and turned toward the person he actually cared about talking to. “Y’ready for math, love?” He asked gently.

“Always,” she started for the main door. “See you around!” she called sweetly over her shoulder.

On Saturday, Allie asked if she wanted to go to a party with her. She was more than happy to stay in and read her book. But she teased her. “Harry might be there,” she winked knowingly.

As much as she didn’t pay any attention to the rumors about Harry, it was hard to fully ignore them the way she wanted to. It wasn’t that she distrusted Harry. No, if anything, she believed in him more than anyone else. But it did sound like Harry had a different party persona. She was not a party person. Honestly, she wanted him to have fun they way he wanted to. Going to a party just because he was there...

“That’s alright, I think—”

“Oh, come on!” She smiled sweetly. “I’ll help you get all dolled up and we’ll just have a couple drinks, and we can leave if you hate it. But if Harry is as smitten as you say he is, I bet he won’t let you leave,” she giggled.

Her face warmed at her friend’s assumption and she tried to picture a scenario in which someone as attractive as Harry would worry about little ole her like that. “Isn’t it cold out?”

“So wear another sweater!” Allie rolled her eyes.

“That’s not very college party of me.”

“Well, I would suggest an alcohol blanket, but I feel like getting you drunk before you even see Harry would be bad.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’ll make me look pretty?” She asked quietly at her friend in the doorway.

“Prettier,” Allie nodded assuredly.

“Alright,” she sighed. “Let’s go to a party.”

Allie’s arm was looped through hers. It was freezing out. But honestly it felt nice. She was just a bit shivery. “I thought you said I could wear another sweater.”

“Sweetie, hiding your assets at a party would be criminal.”

She rolled her eyes with a smirk. They entered the door, dodging the guy standing at the door to keep people in and out very quickly. “Hey Allie,” he said.

She waved in response and headed right inside. She thought maybe it was a good thing Allie told her to skip the sweater. The heat inside the house was nearly as warm and humid as the airport terminal. The air was thick with the sour smell of alcohol, weed, and sweat. “I don’t know how people want to hook up with anybody around here. I can’t think of very many places that are less of an aphrodisiac.”

Allie smirked and pushed the pair of them through a throng of bodies toward the kitchen. She grabbed two red cups from the sleeve of them off the counter and asked the makeshift bartender—surely some poor freshmen pledge—to pour them drinks. Her gut felt a little off about the gesture. “I don’t know, Al,” she whispered softly.

“I’ve had them here before,” Allie promised reassuringly. She still wasn’t thrilled with the idea as she took the cup from her friend.

“Hey Allie!” Someone called. Allie turned, looking over her shoulder as she called back over the pounding music. Meanwhile she looked at the liquid sloshing along with the ice. She thought maybe she should have taken her chances with the jungle juice—no one would be stupid enough to touch that, even if it would end with her throwing it all back up at the end of the night.

The pair of them circled around the house, briefly stopping to watch the end of a rousing game of beer pong. The winning person slammed his beer back, dripping along the sides of his mouth triumphantly which made her smile. Allie rolled her eyes and tugged her out back. A bon fire was in the middle of the yard. Another sober freshman pledge, undoubtedly in charge of standing guard. The music was still loud but way less aggressive outside. There were other large groups of people outside as well chattering and drinking away. Allie worked quick; left her alone by the fire—which she was grateful for since it was warm. When Allie returned, she was already sipping her second drink, holding a third, and dropping her empty cup in the trash bin right near the house. Oof, her head was going to kill tomorrow.

“Harry’s here,” Allie whispered to her as she got close to her again. There was a twinge in her knees, like she might fall at the mere thought of him. It took all her self-restraint to not whip around to catch a glimpse of him. She wasn’t playing hard to get, but this was very much not her scene. She didn’t want to intrude on whatever fun he was having. “You should go say hi,” Allie nudged her.

She smirked, wanting to take a sip of her drink but still feeling hesitant so she just put the cup to her lips, like she was pretending to sip it. “Uh...maybe later. I don’t want to interrupt,” she responded directly in Allie’s ear. The good news was she managed to peek over her shoulder to see him standing a little ways away from the fire. It was too dark to make out any specific features or defining muscles but just the way he stood was hot. She felt insane for thinking such a thing, but it was impossible not to. He was so cute. He had one hand in his front pocket, a drink in the other hand, and just a plaid flannel layered over another plaid flannel. His eyes and smile were lost in the dark, but she could picture it. The light evergreen color that was simply her new favorite color along with the pinkest most adorable lips curling across his face and making dimples in his cheeks that would make the Grand Canyon jealous of their depth.

“I think he would probably die if you interrupted,” she snickered.

Briefly, she entertained the idea. She could ask how Harry was doing on his homework, but that wasn’t the best party talk in the world (even if she did want to know). But she was still a little nervous, especially outside class, their walk, and even their study not-quite date to chat with him about anything. A party was more than likely his element. She could see why. Girls were surrounding him ogling very much the same things that she probably ogled on her way to math class. He was easy to talk to, sweet, and of course very handsome.

She shook her head. “Do they have s’mores?” She asked suddenly.

Allie spit her drink back into her cup and laughed. “Jesus Christ,” Allie rolled her eyes. “No; college-students don’t have s’mores at a party.”

She frowned. “I feel like this party would be a lot better if it did,” she grumbled.

Allie wrapped her arm over her shoulder. “Don’t ever change, please,” she kissed her cheek. She laughed lightly.

“If we had a party with a fire, I promise there would be s’mores,” she was very decisive. “It seems sinful to not have them.”

“Hey, love.”

She felt her whole body stiffen and somehow soften at the same time. They both turned to his voice and now she could see in the firelight, that the red colors of his flannel contrasted so sharply with his eyes. The green seemed to amplify—even in the dark. “Hi, Harry,” she smiled sweetly.

“Didn’t know y’would be here.”

“Yeah...uh... this is my best friend and roommate Allie,” she gestured to the girl beside her. “She invited me,” she explained.

“Hi, Harry,” Allie held her hand out. “Heard lots about you. And seen you around a lot,” she said knowingly.

“Hi, Allie,” he said sweetly shaking her hand politely. “Thanks for bringing her,” he grinned winking at her flirtatiously. “Can I steal her from you?” he asked. “If s’alright with you,” he turned back to her, looking into her eyes so deeply she swore he was reading her mind. Not that there were any other thoughts than Harry, Harry, Harry.

“Listen Harry,” Allie said squaring her shoulders.

“Oh my God, Al,” she shoved her back a bit. “Don’t.”

Harry took a step away and looked back at Allie nervously. “This is my best friend,” Allie said with the third drink doing most of the talking.

“Allie!” She hissed.

“I love her so much,” tipsy-Allie was very loving and adoring. A bit flighty too. If she didn’t have a rush of alcohol spinning her blood quickly through her, she might have been a little less aggressive.

“I see,” Harry smiled. “I will take really good care of her Allie. I promise. Y’have nothing t’worry ‘bout,” he shoved a hand back in his pocket. He looked at her shyly, knowing that Harry was also talking directly to her and not just her tipsy best friend. “I should have asked though,” he said with a smile. “D’you...want t’hang out a bit?” He asked.

She smiled and nodded. “Yes, please.”

“How polite,” Allie snickered. Her smile faded rapidly as she glared back at Harry. If she wasn’t so focused on him, she might have missed the way he gulped nervously. “Don’t break her heart, Harry,” she pointed accusingly at him.

“Allie, enough!” She pressed a hand over her face.

“Don’t leave without me, either. I’ll be with my friends,” she said and flitted away as if there was nothing abnormal about her behavior.

“I’m so sorry about her,” she whispered still with a hand over her face. Harry chuckled and shook his head.

“No, s’okay. S’good she cares ‘bout you so much,” he nodded. “I agree completely,” he assured her. “M’really glad t’see you. I was so surprised and distracted...I wasn’t thinking clearly. I should have asked first t’steal y’away...” he glanced at her full cup. “Don’t like your drink?” He asked.

“Um...no, well. Kind of. I’m a little wary of accepting it from someone I don’t know.”

Harry didn’t try to talk her out of how she felt which made her heart flutter more. “S’a good point...d’you want t’walk to the bar down the road?” He asked.

“I’d have to leave Allie,” she smirked. “Not sure I want to put that on someone else.”

“Hold on,” he said and rushed off to the house. It was only a couple minutes, if that. But he reappeared with a can in his hand. “I pulled it out of the fridge when the kid was turned,” he smirked.

She giggled. “My hero,” she laughed and sipped it without fear.

“So... d’you want t’go...find some place quieter t’talk?”

She glanced at the house. “Is there somewhere to talk?” She asked.

“Yeah... m’friend Niall and his friends are hosting. He’s got a keypad lock on his door, and I know the code t’his bedroom.”

“You always try to get girls into your friend’s room?” She asked quirking an eyebrow at him while sipping her drink. He chuckled and shook his head.

“No, s’nothing like that, love. Jus’ want some privacy.”

“Well, that’s fine by me, even by the fire, it’s chilly out here.”

“You’re cold? Here,” he pulled off the top flannel and draped it on her shoulders then put a hand on her lower back to guide her back toward the house. She could feel the stares of others on them as they meandered back. “S’not even winter yet. S’gonna be tough on your southern blood,” he smiled.

She smiled. “My parents are from here. I think there’s some northerner in me yet. Just got to get it out of hibernation.”

Harry chuckled. “You’ll still need a coat, love,” he promised.

If Harry was going to offer his own clothing to her, she wasn’t sure she’d want to bring her own coat at all.

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chrollohearttags · 27 days

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Requests open? You don't know what you unleashed

It's that time of the month and I've been craving reiner like a mf (side note is it just me or do you crave human touch sm but at the same time the idea of any male rats Ik irl touching me, repulses me)

Anywhooooo if you don't mind the idea of reiner being such a simp for you, showing you sm love and affection stretch marks and all after a rare (inwardly not so rare) day of feeling like shit 🥹

Or reiner throwing you around and slapping you in the face with his dick, I'm easy

(Side side note: I also been having this viral thought of Reiner having a girl And he cheats on her with you constantly, sometimes practically in front of her face, telling you how your better and he will leave her and she can't satisfy him like you can, if you don't like that kind of stuff ignore 🤠)

frennn, omg why are we just alike?! 😭 ovaries be jiggling like a mf, begging to be scrambled but I wouldn’t dream of letting those creatures near me. but ask and you shall receive! 🫶🏾 I literally love allllll of these so much, I have no idea which one to choose. I can’t stop thinking about, him more so than usual slsksks 😫😭 so ykw, we bout to combine all three LMAO! (mainly bc I love the idea of Reiner being a scumbag)

themes + such: infidelity, slight angst, rei is an asshole (not to you! 😭)body worship, pussy eating, reader has stretch marks/slight dysmorphia, body shaming, soft to rough sex, full nelson, daddy’s used, he picks reader up

WHEN SHE’S NOT AROUND

“Rei…wait, we can’t do this..”

“And why not? Who’s going to stop us?”

“No one and that’s the problem..”

the constant back and forth between two lovers, ensued among the fray of dishevelment and lust..lust that had driven you both to the point of no return. Truth be told, you had no good reason to be together. Nothing good would come of this in the long run and yet, here you were…lying in the bed of another woman, with her man’s hands roaming your body. His lips latched onto your nipples and his fingers plunged deep into your aching center. Riding them to bliss as you cried out his name; echoing the walls of her home..it was a disgrace and yet, you couldn’t pull away. You couldn’t let him go..and he felt the same.

“Please..don’t try to pretend like you actually give a shit about her..” His voice seemingly mocking you..it certainly wasn’t his normal demeanor but the one thing you had come to accept about Reiner is that he was not perfect. Not by a long shot…he was certainly not some perfect gentleman that checked all of the boxes. He was handsome, successful, alluring, one hell of a lover but he wasn’t yours!..not even close. That much signified by the silver band on his right ring finger. Married to the girl you despised more than anything. You’d never hated anyone in your entire life but that snooty little blonde bitch was a shoe in for the first spot. Make no mistake, you weren’t afraid of her; more so she was intimidated by you and the thought of fucking her husband unbeknownst gave you a thrill like none other. But your conscious was heavy with thoughts of karma..how things would play out for you guys in the long run..what if he decided that one day he no longer wanted you and by some weird circumstance, decides to make it work with his wife? You’d be out and no one could feel an ounce of pity. You were the adulterer, the harlot, the side chick, mistress..but you were the only one he wanted.

“..because I don’t. Matter of fact, I hope she walks in here right now. I wanna see her face while I’m fucking you..” the deep tone in his voice rattling off into a laugh. Suddenly, he’d tug those thick digits out and shove them between your lips. Allowing you to pacify and taste yourself…watching you become so salacious for him never grew old and it wasn’t something he was ready to let go of. Not now and not ever!..meanwhile, he’d kneel to the floor, caressing your thick thighs in an attempt to quell you. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look today? Hmm?…I feel like you should know that..” that deep southern drawl feeding you those sweet nothings, curling your toes at the sound. He could stay here forever, with you and no one else. Staring into the warmth of those beautiful brown eyes...the truth was, you hadn’t been feeling your best. You worked in the same building as his girl and as one of the lead makeup artists, for the brand that she and many other modeled for, it was difficult seeing women that looked nothing like you garner all of the attention and praise. Not to mention, hearing their snide remarks on the slick about your body type..about how you and others were not a fit for the pieces; literally and figuratively. You were used to it..working in the upper echelon came with discrimination on at least five different levels. But you let it roll off of your back. However, you were having a rather off day. Honestly, the last thing you wanted to do was to be weighed down with the tension of knowing you were sleeping with someone else’s man. That was until you were gifted an anonymous bouquet of flowers..you had no question who the sender was and when he sent you a text message asking to see you, you were glad to accept. Now here you were being spoiled in more ways than one. “You know I love you too, right? You’re my everything..” “Yes, Rei..I love you too..”

Currently, his lips were latching onto your clit, hands firmly planted on your thighs and clawing into them. He needed to taste you..consume your scent and flavor until he was full. That’s the way it was with Reiner..he was a selfish man. Downright gluttonous and he’d have his cake and devour it too! “Good…because I don’t want you to take it personal when I fuck you like a whore tonight.” Smirking up at you and causing you to chew at your lip with a wide smile. Just then, he’d toss your leg across his shoulder and begin the rapid ascent into feasting on your cunt. It wasn’t long before those juices were trickling down his chin and you were trembling. You could’ve jumped from your own flesh at any minute. The way his tongue lapped at your bud, delicately navigated your folds..prodded your entrance..no one treated you better. Hence why his wife would simply have to share. “Oh fuck!…yes, Rei..right there..”

he knew that you were exactly where he wanted you..and there was no way he was letting you go until he got what he desired….suddenly, he’d pull away with his mouth only to quickly substitute your pleasure with his fingers whilst he spoke to you. Feeding you every positive affirmation he could think of…complimenting your beautiful smile down to your legs; rubbing them gently. He didn’t just admire you, he practically worshipped you. Leaving kisses on those stretch marks displayed across your pudgy tummy. He loved all of it and thought that you should do the same. He was adamant in letting you know there was nothing for you to be ashamed of. “You’re so fucking sexy. Trust me..she’s not even half the woman you are. Never could be, baby. The next time she says something, just think about the fact that you have the one thing she doesn’t..” he’d declare, proceeding to spit onto your folds and continue licking. Not once did he break eye contact because he wanted to see all of the expressions that came across your face..he was right. She’d brag and boast about her husband who loved her so much to anyone who’d listen. That was at least in the public eye..however, behind the closed doors of a dressing room, crying into the arms of her best friend, she’d confess that he hadn’t touched her in months. That he seemed distant and cold and she was worried about an affair. Your kind nature couldn’t bear harboring such a secret but the side of you that wanted revenge for watching that bully’s abuse to other girls; bragging about her appearance, wealth and everything else she could flaunt as an adolescent, up into adult hood…you were enjoying this. You wanted the bitch to suffer and quite frankly, see her man getting fucked by the very type of woman she swore she was superior to!

“Lay back f’r me, sweetheart and put those fucking legs up..”

By this point, Reiner’s entire demeanor had seemed to shift. He was still very much hungry for that delicious nectar but he was done with the sweet, charming, innocent demeanor. Quite frankly, it couldn’t come soon enough. You needed him to take what was his! To be dominant, aggressive and pound every single ounce of tension from your body. You were sopping wet with a linear trail of slick, seeping down your slit and he had just the plan to add to the mess. Quickly standing to his feet, he’d take the place of your palms and squeeze the supple flesh of your thighs..he’d already previously undressed so when he came up, that erect cock did along with it as well. He was aching for you..so much so, the only way he’d be able to gain relief was to bury himself inside of you. That’s when you’d feel him lob a trail of spit onto your folds before rubbing that tip against you…you couldn’t handle another moment of being teased so luckily…

“You’re about to get all of this dick, I hope you know that..”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing…take this pussy. Fuck me..”

..he didn’t make you wait long! A moment later, you’d feel that tip split open your folds and enter your warmth. It felt damn near divine being inside of you. He practically trembled; cursing aloud when he was met with the sensation of your walls constricting around him. This was all he wanted, all he needed and he’d be content as long as he could have you. “This pussy’s so fucking tight…goddamn, she never feels this good.” Chuckling to himself because he couldn’t believe just how starkly different his experience was with you and his wife. Oftentimes, he found himself bored or not even remotely aroused. She’d complain that it was too much or that she couldn’t fit it all the way. She didn’t like to do any of the nasty things you preferred and when it came to giving him oral sex, she downright refused. Just recently, he stopped trying altogether and always claimed he was too exhausted for sex. Meanwhile, he was buried balls deep inside of you every chance he got!

“Mmmmph, take it, baby. Keep fucking me, just like that..”

Whimpering as you rubbed your clit..stroking that bud slowly..your gaze was fixated on his, a smile on both of your faces as he nestled every inch into you. His strokes were consistent, deep and a little fast. He couldn’t be vexed to take it slow tonight. He needed to give it to you the way you deserved. “Who’s pussy is this, baby? Huh? Tell me..” questioning as he grasped for your ankles, placing gentle kisses along your instep and growling into your skin. He wasn’t letting up for anything. Not until he was damn well satisfied..

“Y-yours, daddy. Oh my gosh..”

crying out with a frail whimper as his pace sped up. Chewing at your bottom lip, you’d push at his abs to feign him off but that only did more to fuel his desire to wreck you. Instead, you found yourself hoisted up mid air and cradled in his huge arms. Being propelled up and down on his cock as he slammed you down onto it. Reiner was a brick house of a man, courtesy of all the years he spent playing football. With the bank account to match. By all accounts, he lived the dream life that so many sought after…millions in his account, large, picturesque home and a model wife but the one thing that alluded him…the one person he desired most was right here.

“Fuck….it should’ve been you, baby. It was always supposed to be you. You’re the one that should be wearing that ring, my last name..you should have her life.”

his words becoming far more enunciated, filled with much more passion and aggression..he craved you so badly he could feel it every fiber of his soul. He’d do anything to keep you around..no matter the cost. Clawing into his back, (y/n) cried out his name and let him know that you mirrored his sentiments and that regardless of titles, rings or legalities, he belonged to you! The only one who’d truly ever love him..

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise..”

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