#and I met the second person barely two years ago

[irndad]

i wish i knew you wanted me - s.r.

a/n: okay this ended up being so so long forgive me!!! i hope you like<3 summary: based loosely on 'bad habit'. spencer got asked out by reader 5 years ago, when he was recovering from his dilaudid addiction, and turned her down. now, he's in love with her, and pining for her. also, jealous!spencer. she fell first, he fell harder. wc: ~2k

She’s very pretty. It’s distracting. Right now, she’s staring intently at his hands, and he feels hot under her gaze. It’s been a while since he’s done this, the little rocket trick, but she’s visiting the office, and Garcia had mentioned he’s a magician. 

“That’s incredible!” She exclaims, a giggle in her laugh, and he feels the swoop of his stomach, the butterflies of it all, “You got them so high up!”

“It’s just physics,” he laughs, meeting her warm gaze. Her smile is one for the ages. 

She’s here dropping off a file. They’ve known eachother a really long time, actually. She was an expert witness for them, once, years ago. She spoke with ease, both on the stand and in person. Equal measure kind and measured, and Spencer had adored her on first glance. They’d met when he was just getting clean from Dilaudid, and Spencer’s been in love with her since not long after than first meeting. That’s pretty much the only thing about her he wishes he could take back. 

He still has a hard time thinking about it, the fact that he met her when he was barely himself. Still, she’d been kind, listened to him talk and let the others tell her that he was…going through something. It was on his two month sobriety date (which she’d had no way of knowing) that she’d asked him out. 

Sometimes, when he can’t sleep, he replays the memory in his head. How she works just south of their office, and how they’d meet at the café nearest, and chat for an hour before calling a cab home. 

On the other side of the veil, he can picture that night, years ago now. How she’d looked with the snow kissing her nose, dotting the edges of her faux-fur hood. She’d stuck out her tongue to catch a snowflake, and he’d almost combusted and the adorability of it. 

“You look nice,” she’d said, although at the time he’s pretty sure he looked gaunt. He’d only recently started to gain the weight back- but still, her praise felt like stardust. 

“You look nicer,” he’d said back, gently bumping her shoulder as a fond gesture. Her little grin is well-worth how awkward they both look on the street.

“Listen,” she had said, stuffing her hands into her pockets, the size of the coat causing her hands to disapear from sight entirely, “I asked JJ and Morgan, and they said you’re not seeing anyone.”

“Oh, yeah. They love reminding me of that. Not everyone can be like Morgan and have dated half the western hemsiphere.”

He felt embarrassed, her watching him. It’s nice, but sometimes feels like staring into the sun. 

Her chuckle was nervous, not fully reaching her eyes. 

“You okay? 

“Yeah,” she swallowed again, before speaking, “I was wondering, um, if you might want to grab a drink with me?”

“Sure,” he’d replied back, amenably. He couldn’t tell why she looked so nervous, “I can’t really do hard liquor, though. Maybe we can invite the team.”

“No, Spence, I was wondering if you and I could go on a um, a date.”

And he’s frozen. Because this might be the second time he’d ever been asked out, and second, this might be his dream girl. She’s gorgeous and kind and she’s in front of him, asking him out. 

“I um,” his mouth was dry. He’d be a bad boyfriend. He was a recovering drug addict who already was bad at talking to people, and she lit up a room whenever she walked in. She finds him easy to be with, easy to care for and he’s bound to fuck it up. He couldn’t imagine giving that up because he was too greedy to take what he got. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

He almost took it back with incredible speed, with that flash of disapointment on her lovely face, and the knowledge that it’s because she wanted him, before she quickly regained her speech.

“That’s totally alright! We’ll just be good friends, yeah?”

In the here and now, they are friends. Best of, really. And he made the right choice. He’d lashed out at Emily a month later in a withdrawl, and he knows that he’d have done the same to her, and now, she’s still in his life. 

The drawbacks of course, to being her friend, means she has dates. Boyfriends, as well, and he’s been a…friend, through it all. Good friend. She’s never suspeced him of anything more, of course, after he’d categorically rejected it. 

(Even though this rejection plays in his head all the fucking time, like a torturous groundhog day.)

She’s beautiful today, a blue blouse with a scarf lazily around her neck, and the way she’s leaning over his desk to see the  trick before she drops off her analysis. 

“Alright, Spence,” she says, her rose perfume wafting in the air prior to her hopping off the corner, “Did you need anything else? Today is my half-day, and Harry wanted to take me to Art Insititute.”

Harry, is the boy on rotation at the moment. Spencer has no impulse control and a super-computer expert best friend, so Spencer knows that Harry is 6’0 on his Driver’s License, and is a Financial Analyst. Spencer knows from her own mouth that this will be the third date, and that he’s a little boring but she’s attracted to the fact that he was direct and wanted to go out again. 

Low bar, but one Spencer couldn’t even clear. He doesn’t say any of that, though.

“That sounds fun,” he says, instead of saying that he’d love to walk her through the inscriptions on each art piece, love to kiss her in front of something thats’ beauty does not come close to her’s. “Are you thinking it might run long, or are we still doing the bookstore and TV at mine after?”

He’s been looking forward to this all week. He bought special marshmallows for her cocoa. He also htes to imagine her date running long. 

“Nah,” she smiles, “besides, he’s just some guy. You’re Spencer.”

Morgan doesn’t say anything when he looks down at his. paperwork, and scribbles instead of thinking, the best he can. 

________________________________

Don’t think about the fact she was on a date. Don’t think about how Harry might have got to kiss her. Just don’t bring it up. 

“How was the date?”

She shrugged, pulling at the spine of a hardcover novel. 

“It was fine. Like I said, he was kind of boring.”

“So why’d you go out with him again?”

“I dunno, Spence, I just… I want a boyfriend, you know? I want someone to want to be with me.”

She is so beautiful. She laughs with her whole chest, and she listens to his stories and chimes in with her own expertise. She has a voice that seems like it’s spun gold thread, and he’d give anything to kiss her. 

“I get that,” he says, instead of anything he’s thinking. She’s wearing brown lipstick, transfer proof. He’s in love with her. “There’s got to be guys lining up for a girl like you.”

“That’s a nice thought, Spence. Not the ones I’d like.”

___________________________

This thought haunts his evening, and when he parks and they start the walk-up to his apartment, a confession hammering at his throat, a physical urge. She’s giggling at some long physics joke he’d made, and he’s addicted to the soft bell of her laughter.

His apartment is small and lovely, and he enjoys having her in the small and dark of the night, the sun set over what he wishes were two lovers. 

“You are really pretty, you know,” he says, once she’s settled into his chest, a sick satisfaction of knowing Harry got a quick thank you text before she darted over to Spencer’s arms. 

“Thanks, Spencer. You’re a good friend.”

“Why do you always say that?”

“That you’re a good friend?”

“I’m not saying you’re pretty because I’m a good friend. I’m saying it because it’s true, and I enjoy saying true things.” 

“You don’t…I don’t know why you’re saying that, Spencer. We’re friends and I adore you and I’m here right now, but you don’t need to make it harder on me.”

She looks nervous, and a little disapointed. He wants her to know, that even if he’s missed his shot, she’s not going to be alone. He’s gonna spend the rest of his life hating whoever knew to take the best thing offered to him, but Spencer- he knows he is not going to be the last to love her. He grabs her hand without thinking, her doe eyes peering into his with some emotion he can’t pin down. 

“Hey, I’m not trying…to make anything hard for you. I don’t ever want to do that. I just… some day someone’s gonna see you and want to be with you and I’m going to watch it and know it was inevitable.” 

The words taste like barbed wire. 

Ask me again, he wants to beg, I’m ready now. I’ll do it right. 

Is that even true? Is it just that he wants her bad enough he’s willing to risk not doing it right?

“You’re so sweet,” she sobs, and oh, she’s crying. Just a little, but tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “You make it so hard to be your friend. And I know that’s my problem, that you’ve always been straight up with me. I asked you out and you said no, and I know that-“

“I know that I was too late, and freaked out about being with someone like you when I was still so fucked up.” they’re so close to eachother, he can smell her chapstick. His chest aches. “Sweetheart, that had nothing to do with you. It was all me. It’s a train I missed that I’m gonna spend the rest of my life wishing I’d caught.”

He feels uncomfortably bare, even in the oversized sweater that she’d gotten him last Christmas, and that he’d pretended had been from his lover all of that week. But it’s important that she knows.

“What do you mean, ‘too late’?”

Her voice is small, so quiet he barely hears it. She threads her nimble fingers into his slender ones, and his heart is hammering. 

“I-I was on Dilaudid, or just barely off, you know- you wouldn’t want to be with someone like me. You asked me out when you didn’t even know that.”

“I know you now. Years worth of knowing.”

“And you haven’t asked me since.” 

“Spencer,” her voice is warm, rich like silk and grainy old music, and he wants to drink this image in, her fingers stroking the side of his face like he’s holy. He wonders if he’s dreaming, with how good she feels to be so close to. 

Ask me again, he wants to beg. I’m ready, now. 

“Spencer Walter Reid,” she says, properly holding his hand, bringing her soft lips to his hand, kissing his knuckle. He feels anointed, blessed by a higher power. “Could I take you out on a date?”

“Yes,” he says, finally. Five years of waiting melts away as he kisses her, warmth and light seeping into existence, a dream brought to tangible life, to touch and reality, “Actually, wait,” he says, and finishes before her face can fall, “Would you be my girlfriend?”

It’s maybe playing his cards too much, but her wide, ear to ear splitting grin is everything he needs to see, everything he might need to see for the rest of his life. 

“Took you long enough, boy-genius.”

“All you had to do was ask again!”

If she has a complaint about that, it certainly couldn’t be heard by the many, many kisses that would follow. 

[captain-joongz]

Tits out

Pairing: best friend!Wooyoung x f!reader

Genre: bffs to ??, college au, pure smut, barely any plot, fluff, humour

Summary: When talking to your best friend about your nipple piercing during movie night backfires in the most spectacular way possible and Seonghwa's new couch gets caught in the crossfire

Word count: cca 7k

Warnings: reader is chubby, there's no discussion, they just jump into it, titty sucking, nipple and nipple piercing fixation, unprotected sex (this is pure fantasy, be careful in the real world), a little bit of body insecurity about body hair, fingering, doggy, squirting (let me know if i missed anything)

I had met Wooyoung back in the first year in uni and now four years later we were still going strong. The man that walked in confidently into a lecture hall, bee-lined straight for the empty space next to me and was sitting down before I even comprehended his question of “is this seat taken?”, who then proceeded to talk my ear off and invite himself for lunch with me, was quite easy to befriend, believe it or not. After sitting next to him a few times and going for lunch later, I’d managed to get out of my shell a little too and soon we were two merry extroverts steamrolling through university hip to hip. He’d become one of my best friends, one of my closest friends and a person that understood me almost perfectly. We knew we could count on each other completely and trusted each other blindly.

I was introduced into his friend group, and he was into mine and we often hung out together in huge groups of rowdy younglings, going dancing and spending weekends eating too much junk food and watching bad movies someone had put on, but no one really paid attention to besides the occasional joke about its stupidity. I couldn’t count how many times I’ve done something extremely stupid while hanging out with them and was heavily encouraged by both Wooyoung and San. It was the most fun I’ve had though, and that’s what really mattered.

Now I was already out of school, but Wooyoung and most of his friends were continuing with their studies. Due to this, we tried to hang out every Friday, but a lot of the time it ended up being just me and him or even just me sitting in their living room watching Netflix waiting who makes it home first. It was like my second home at this point, and no one was phased when I showed up out of the blue and sat on the couch like I owned it. Especially since Seonghwa bought the new one, that one was extremely comfortable.

Usually, Friday night was a hang out and movie night for me and Wooyoung anyway, but today I was a woman on a mission. A few months ago, I had gotten a nipple piercing. It wasn’t my first one (though it was definitely the most painful one) so I wasn’t extremely worried about it, but lately it has been acting up a little. It usually didn’t hurt but sometimes there would be this slight discomfort around it and I’ve even noticed some slight scabbing even months later. I knew realistically that it was most likely okay, but my anxious nervous little brain had managed to convince me that I’m going to lose my tit or something. That’s why I needed a second opinion. And that’s where Wooyoung came in.

Tonight, I was making my way towards their flat knowing I’m about to ask Wooyoung for the weirdest favour one ever could, but it should be okay, right? We were such close friends, it definitely wasn’t a big deal, right? You normally asked your friends to take a look at your tits and tell you whether there’s something weird about one of them, that was just a usual Friday, no?

I checked the group chat again and confirmed that it would be just me and Woo tonight and then made my way to their building’s door. They lived on the fourth floor without an elevator, which would normally be a minus, but since it was an old warehouse made into an apartment building, their flat was actually massive and housed all of them without a problem, so I graciously sacrificed myself and stomped up the stairs a few times a week to see their faces (and eat their food).

Upon arriving to the flat, I found Woo busy making something in the kitchen, humming lightly while whipping cream like a 50s housewife.

“What you up to?” I asked casually strolling into the room, making Wooyoung jump with shock. “Jesus fucking Christ, you sneak in all the time and yet I still get scared by you,” he said and put his hand over his heart. I slapped his shoulder and peeked at what he was making.

“You literally gave me the keys, Wooyoung, I’m hardly sneaking in,” I said and rolled my eyes at him. He just laughed and pushed me out of the kitchen. “Shut up and start choosing the movie or I know we’ll just end up scrolling through Netflix for hours like always,” he shouted over his shoulder and went back to whatever snack he was making.

As I sat on the couch, I was steeling myself for what I was about to ask him, trying to figure out how to bring it up. No time like the present, right. I mindlessly scrolled through the movies, but really I was waiting for Woo to join me in the living room. Then finally he came in through the door, a plate of little cheesy snacks in one hand and a bowl of popcorn in the other. I was just about to open my mouth, but he cheekily winked at me and made his way back to the kitchen. When he returned, he was holding a little tray with two cups of hot chocolate, the coke and two glasses.

He finally joined me on the couch and for a while we both just sat there, arguing about whether we want to watch a comedy or a thriller, while I was thinking how to broach the subject. But in the end, I didn’t even need to do that. In the middle of my sentence about how I’m not watching another stupid horror movie about nothing, Wooyoung suddenly turned to me and just gave me this look. And I knew I was done playing around. I stopped in the middle of talking and stared at him. He grinned.

“Okay, just spill it,” he said when I stayed silent for too long.

“What do you mean?” I attempted to stray away from the topic until I was ready, but he’d already saw through me. “Really?” he asked incredulously, “I’ve known you for years, you think I don’t recognise when you want to talk about something? Just spill the beans already.” I heaved a deep sigh and then turned on the couch to face him. He was still grinning.

“Okay, this might be really weird, but just bear with me for a while, okay?” I started. While I was slightly worried about the piercing, I also couldn’t help but fear Woo’s reaction, after all this wasn’t exactly a normal thing to ask your friend. I knew worst case scenario he’ll just say no and laugh it off, but still. He looked a little more serious for a moment, but then I continued talking. “I need you to look at my tits, okay?”

Wooyoung looked at me shocked for a moment and then bursted out laughing. I just glared at him annoyed. “Hear me out-“ I started but he cut me off. “Is this about like being insecure about them? You want me to look at them and say they’re okay? Y/N, you know your tits are amazing-“ he was going on and on, but this time it was me who cut him off.

“God, no, nothing like that,” I shut him up embarrassed. While it was true that I was slightly insecure about my plump figure, I loved my boobs, I knew they looked great. They were simply just right, it was one of the things I loved about my body. Wooyoung sensed that it must be something more serious and gestured for me to continue.

“You know I got the piercing, but lately it started to act up a little and I’m getting nervous and I just need you to look and tell me it looks fine,” I got out in one breath and he just stared at me. “Okay…? Why don’t you look into the mirror?” he asked, genuinely curious. “I have, but since I’m getting so nervous about it, I need a second opinion,” I explained, “Come on Woo, I know it’s a super weird and gross request, but help me out here.” Wooyoung laughed again and smirked at me.

“Gross and weird?” he repeated, “Not only I’ll see a nipple and a piercing, but I’ll also see a boob and a nipple with a piercing, that’s like some of the best things in this world combined together.” I slapped his shoulder again, but we both laughed this time.

“You’re the worst, god,” I said laughing, “I’m surprised you haven’t died over being such a fucking horndog all the time yet.” He laughed too and then gestured to my top.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, just shut up and pull your tits out,” he joked and made himself comfortable on one end of the couch. I wasn’t particularly shy about showing my body, so it wasn’t that hard to bare myself like this. Hell, me and Woo have probably seen each other naked a few times but just didn’t care enough.

I pulled the two straps of my top off my shoulders and bunched the fabric around my waist, then reached around to my back to take off my bra. When it hit the floor Wooyoung’s full attention was suddenly on my chest, and it flustered me a little. I fought the instinct to cover myself with my arms and instead just sat there, topless with my best friend intensely staring at my boobs.

“So?” I asked anxiously, “What do you think?” He suddenly straightened up and it brought us quite close to each other. “That you have really great tits,” he said absent-mindedly, his hands raising on instinct as if going to squish them. I flushed and swatted at them. “Yeah, I know,” I said annoyed, “that’s not what I asked though.” That seemed to break him out of it a little bit and he hunched down so his face was on level with my chest. I face-palmed and hoped no one would come home unannounced, cause this would be damn hard to explain.

“No, yeah I think it’s okay,” Woo said after a while, “I mean, the pierced one looks a little different, but that’s to be expected. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it.” I relaxed at hearing him say so and felt the tension leave me at once. But I just needed a little more to feel completely at ease.

“Can you like… touch it to see if it’s weirdly warm or if there’s some weird texture or something?” I asked embarrassed and quickly looked to the side when Woo’s head whipped up to look at me. “You want me to what now?” he questioned me flabbergasted.

“I don’t know, dude! You’re the one that gets into contact with tits, you’ll know if there’s something wrong with it!” I started hurriedly explaining myself, growing more flustered by the minute. Wooyoung stayed quiet for a moment and then sighed. I thought this was finally the line that was too far for him, but then his hand suddenly flew up and stopped just millimetres from my nipple. We both just sat there, holding our breath, not knowing where to look, when he slowly brought his fingers in contact with my skin. I gasped quietly, but in the silence it was still audible. I flushed in embarrassment and refused to look anywhere else except for the wall by the TV.

Wooyoung’s fingers messed around a little, pressing down on the nipple and gently squeezing it, also lightly touching onto the piercing. Surprisingly enough, what I felt wasn’t pain like I feared. With every soft brush of his fingers over the sensitive skin, a little bolt of pleasure shot through me and I had to fight to keep myself from gasping more or arching into his touch. I felt the blush spreading over my face and completely mortified I noticed beginnings of a scorching wet heat between my legs.

Then suddenly his hand was gone and he was clearing his throat. The silence that set between us was broken and we both started shifting around, not knowing what to do with the situation we found ourselves in.

“I think it’s totally fine,” he said, his voice somewhat hoarse, but I was so embarrassed I barely even registered it.

“Oh thank god, I was really getting nervous,” I said and laughed a little awkwardly. Wooyoung wasn’t saying anything and just sat in front of me tensely, so I assumed it was good and he just needed a moment to shake off the sudden awkward atmosphere, and turned around to find my bra. That was a rookie mistake though. The moment my eyes left Wooyoung, he striked. As I was searching the floor with my eyes, suddenly what felt like a lightning strike went through my whole body. My back arched on instinct, and I toppled backwards onto the couch with a loud moan.

Wooyoung’s mouth has attached itself onto my pierced nipple and he sucked again, another shock pulsing through me and pleasure suddenly flooding my senses. My hands flew to his shoulders, but instead of pushing him away I just pulled him closer. I myself wasn’t sure of what was happening or what we were doing, but it felt too good to dwell on it and I definitely didn’t hate it.

Wooyoung moved closer and made himself comfortable between my spread thighs, his mouth busy sucking and licking around my piercing. I was letting out tiny breathy moans, my legs instinctively pulling him closer to my core, hoping for a little friction.

“What… what are you doing?” I finally gathered my wits and asked breathlessly. I looked down to see the top of his head moving around. He peaked up to look at me and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, I’ve never been with a girl that has a nipple piercing, I couldn’t help myself,” he explained, and I rolled my eyes at him.

“You damn horndog,” I muttered, but didn’t push him away or stop him. That gave him confidence to continue, and he smirked at me, as one of his hands brushed down my front until he was slightly pushing on my clit through my clothes and I arched again. He moved to the other nipple and played with it a little, while his unoccupied hand moved to my other breast, touching it teasingly, squeezing it slightly and thumbing the piercing.

“It’s so sensitive,” he murmured and watched his hand completely fascinated. I was about to retort something, but he chose that moment to bite at my breast and move up to leave wet hot kisses on my neck and a loud moan came out instead. It’s been so long since I’ve been with someone, and I was starting to worry I might utterly embarrass myself. One of my hands sneaked down between our bodies, trying to encourage him to touch me properly instead of just gently pressing, but he caught it and pulled it up to my shoulder. Suddenly he was towering over me, smirking at me and just generally being a menace. I arched again, this time trying to push our lower halves together, but he avoided me with a laugh.

“God, please, Wooyoung just touch me,” I begged him as the desperation from the scorching heat cursing through my veins was taking over, throwing everything into the wind and fully committing to getting fucked by my best friend. He kept smirking and propped himself up over me on his elbow.

“Touch you, huh?” he said and suddenly his hand was back to teasing my clit, this time with more force. I keened and pushed up into him, suddenly embarrassedly realising just how wet I’d gotten from such small ministrations. He chuckled watching me, head diving to take my pierced nipple into his mouth again, gently playing with it with his tongue and scraping his teeth over it. I jerked and my hands flew into his hair, holding him in place so that he’d never stop, my mouth falling open on a silent moan, too overwhelmed by the sensation to properly function. He slowly moved up to my neck, peppering kisses and small bites along the way, while his fingers moved in little circles over my clothed clit.

I was so turned on I could die, I needed him to touch me properly – like stuff me full of his long beautiful fingers. And I told him as such. And he laughed at me.

“Aw, such a little desperate angel, aren’t you?” Wooyoung whispered into my skin. I whined his name, hoping it would speed him up. He scoffed at me playfully but moved away to pull my shorts off, grabbing them with one hand and pulling them down in one swoop; leaving me a little breathless and only in a bunched up top around my middle, while Wooyoung was still fully clothed. I started pulling his shirt off and he obliged, flinging it to the other side of the room eagerly.

Woo sat back on his heels between my spread thighs to take me in and I started to feel shy again, hands moving to grab onto him and pull him back onto me, but he pushed my arms back into the couch and held them there for a moment, before sitting back again.

“No, no, angel, I’m looking at your pretty pussy,” he teased me, hands grabbing at my full thighs to keep them spread wide. I looked down and suddenly an insecurity reared its head again. About two years ago I had stopped shaving in my intimate area, only trimming it a little, cause it irritated my skin too much and the last time I was about to get some, the guy called me disgusting. Wooyoung was currently watching me like a starved man in front of a feast, but still I nervously covered myself with my hands. His eyes flicked up to me, questioning, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Sorry,” was all I said, mad at myself that I couldn’t even properly get out why I was suddenly so uncomfortable, and he looked at me all confused. “What are you sorry for?” he asked, but then realisation lit up his eyes and he moved to stand up from the couch, “Did you change your mind? You know it’s okay to tell me.” I looped my legs around his waist to pull him back to me and he fell forward with an “oof”. This pressed his erect cock to my core as he held himself up with his hands right by my head and we both moaned at the contact. My legs kept encouraging him to grind into me and for a moment we both just breathlessly moved against each other, Woo releasing little moans and sighs into the heated air between us, and I watched his half-lidded eyes slowly become hazy with pleasure, utterly fascinated.

“So I guess no changing of minds,” he chuckled on a small groan as his hips started thrusting a little harsher against me, losing all rationality and just chasing pleasure. “No, nothing like that,” I whispered back and pulled him for a kiss for the first. As soon as our lips touched, we started hungrily devouring each other, moaning into each other’s mouths and our hands grabbing onto each other desperately. I ended up helplessly grabbing onto his back and most probably leaving red scratches in my wake.

After a moment Woo pulled away, sat back on his heels again and I whined and tried to pull him back, leading him to laugh at me once more; but his fingers went straight for my pussy, spreading it open and sliding through the wetness there. As if placated, I immediately stopped whining and arched my back more, begging for his touch.

“What was that about before?” he asked slightly breathless and I could see he was being serious, even though his finger started slowly circling my clit and playing around. I could barely concentrate on explaining as I was too busy drowning in the liquid pleasure spreading through my entire body.

“Just a little… hng- a little insecure about- about my hair,” I answered while writhing around, simultaneously wanting more and hoping he’d stop so that I could explain properly. His eyes immediately flicked down between my legs just as his finger slid down and slowly slipped into me. I moaned loudly, hands grabbing and squeezing the couch. His gaze was trained on my hole as he pumped his finger in a few times and then quickly slid in a second one.

“Fuck, you’re so wet..” he whispered, still watching his fingers slowly fucking into me, his other hand going to squeeze his erection still tenting his sweats. My mouth was hanging open, eyes unfocused, noises just pouring out as I was finally feeling full for the first time. But then suddenly he pulled his fingers out and focused on me again. I actually sobbed out, trying to close my legs to keep his hand from leaving, but they were still kept spread by his hips.

“Why would you be insecure about it?” Wooyoung whispered and it took me a moment to remember what we were talking about before. I propped myself up on my elbows and looked at him, sitting between my spread legs with an obvious erection in sweats stained by my wetness from our grinding before. I flushed again and tore my eyes away from his cock, only to catch his smug smirk. I schooled my expression and said: “The last guy I was with called it disgusting. Said he’s not Columbus to be exploring the rainforest.” Wooyoung scoffed.

“What a fucking asshole, who even comes up with shit like that?” he asked incredulously, “Well, clearly he’s a fucking coward, but thankfully… I’ve always liked a little bit of adventure.” He said the last bit all flirty, winking like an absolute sleaze and I just knew something awful was coming. “Besides,” he said while pressing himself into me again, “the rainforest is the perfect place for my anaconda.” I groaned, but this time from pure embarrassment at his jokes while he cackled like a madman. I pushed him away and started to turn around so that I could stand up.

“God, I changed my mind, get off of me,” I said morosely, but he just grabbed my hips and used the momentum to turn me around and get me on all fours, then pressed us together. A bolt of arousal shot through me, and my arms buckled under my weight, my face pressing into the couch while my ass stayed propped up by Wooyoung, pressed into his hips.

“Actually, this is quite a good idea,” he said grinding into me, “I always knew you’d love to be fucked like this.” He bent over me, his chest pressing into my back as he whispered straight into my ear. “Pressed down like this, taken from behind quick, rough and dirty,” he murmured, “Put nicely in your place…” I moaned unabashed, hips pushing back onto his cock on their own and lust making itself painfully known again; in response I could feel Wooyoung’s hands tightening on my skin and suddenly he pulled back to hurriedly tug his sweats down. His hands made their home on my hips, squeezing and pulling, keeping me pressed into him, his cock slotting between my thighs and sliding along my wet pussy. I keened and attempted to grind back, but he held me as his hips pulled back.

“God, please,” I begged, “Please, Wooyoung, give it to me…” He held himself with one hand and I heard him chuckle. “You want it?” he teased. I felt the head of his cock gently teasing around my hole, slightly pushing in and pulling out again. I sobbed exasperated and nodded, face mushed into the couch and hands grabbing onto the throw pillows, my whole body just fucking screaming for his cock to spear me through and through, cunt spasming and tightening around nothing.

“Yes! Yes, please!” I cried and he finally slid inside in one slow thrust. I moaned with relief and sagged into the couch a little, finally getting what I’ve been wanting this whole time. Wooyoung groaned behind me and his hands dug into the skin of my hips, pushing us impossibly together. The feeling of fullness satisfied something wild and primal in me and I found myself struggling to close my mouth, too blissed out to do anything.

He stilled for a moment to get us both accustomed to the feeling, but clearly both of us were too horny to wait even a little longer, because the second I pushed my hips back into him, he started slowly grinding in small circles and it wasn’t long before it shifted into shallow thrusts punching out little gasps out of me.

I only had to whine out “please!” once to get Wooyoung to speed up and pound into me in a much faster pace, to both of our reliefs. Woo’s cool had quickly melted away into a desperate quick pace that had tiny whiny moans spilling out of him. I wasn’t fairing much better, the slide of his cock along my walls from this angle was absolutely heavenly and within few moments had me absolutely losing my already frayed mind. With my head turned away from the cushions I found myself unable to close my mouth, moans freely slipping out and bouncing off of the walls of the living room. Embarrassingly enough I could feel a string of drool coming out of the corner of my mouth onto the couch, but I couldn’t force myself to care when Wooyoung was fucking me so good.

It quickly became obvious we were both too horny and turned on to keep any kind of decorum, so we descended into a messy filthy fucking, Woo eventually bending over me and plastering his chest to my back, mouthing and biting at my neck in between grunts and groans. Just thinking about how deliciously I was filled with his cock had me moaning loudly, Wooyoung chuckling as if he wasn’t the same, losing his mind over the tight wet heat enveloping him in a torturous hug.

I found myself quickly spiralling, the molten pleasure pumping through my body at an alarming speed. I reached back and pulled at Wooyoung’s hips, forcing him to shift his leg a little closer and putting his hips a little higher over mine, giving him perfect access to that one spot deep inside of me with every thrust. I lost all control over my body then, taken over by the all-consuming pleasure, the moans coming out higher and louder with every thrust.

“God- ah aah-“ I panted out, hands digging into the pillows looking for any kind of purchase to withstand the onslaught of sensations, “I- I’m cumming so-soon.” Wooyoung giggled breathlessly into my shoulder and his hips suddenly gained back a little more direction, aiming to hit the spot with every slam into me, slowly speeding up until he was railing me like a madman, the wet squelch of my cunt and slapping of skin on skin accompanying the cacophony of our joined pleasure. I wailed, unable to keep up with the mounting climax, almost screaming on every thrust inlaid with little gasps, groans and cut off gibberish pouring out of my mouth. It felt as if my entire body lit up, the bliss becoming a little too much for me to properly register beyond “Oh god! Oh yes!” ringing through every inch of my very being.

Then Wooyoung’s hand moved to my tit again and squeezed and pinched the pierced nipple few times, even giving it some light slaps. My whole body seized up on a lightning strike of pleasure and the orgasm hit me like an actual truck, getting thrown over the edge so unexpectedly and with such force that I gave one last wheezing cry, mind blanking out and all I could register was the white ecstasy pouring through me, out of me, as if my entire body was made out of it, every nerve screaming with it.

Distantly I registered Wooyoung’s startled cries and moans, his hips jerking against mine quickly and erratically, his hands back on my hips tightening until I could feel his nails biting into my skin and was sure I’d have a nice set of imprints for at least the rest of the day. Then he stilled over me, cock pushed as deep inside as it could go, pulsing and throbbing as the cum poured out in thick spurts. His deep groan of satisfaction reverberated through my whole body since he was still pressed into my back tightly, letting me enjoy the moment with him.

As if invisible strings were cut, we both collapsed into the couch and hazily I realised I only stayed upright because Wooyoung was holding me so he could fuck me harder. After few minutes my mind slowly started coming back, body tiredly catching up, registering the pleasurable ordeal it just went through. I could feel my pussy throbbing, hot and wet from being thoroughly fucked and filled with Woo’s release, my hips hurting from the pounding. I was almost expecting to see bruises all over me.

For a few moments only laboured breathing was heard through the room as we both recovered, the haze gradually lifting, allowing us to come to terms with what had just happened between us. Surprisingly, it didn’t feel awkward at all. It may have been because I was still lying boneless, unable to speak from the force of the orgasm with Wooyoung’s softening cock still wedged deep inside of my pussy, but I found myself quite comfortable squished into the couch, feeling his shallow breaths in the crook of my neck and his thumping heart against my back. I wondered if he could feel mine, as it was beating just as wildly.

But the comfy silence was broken by the man himself, when he whistled and said: “Wow, I had no idea you could do that.” There was a little teasing undertone to his statement, but mostly I could detect only giddy wonder and pride.

“Do what?” my words still a little slurred, because I was still recovering the functions of my brain and fighting sleep, so deeply sated I could barely hold a full thought.

“Squirt,” Woo stated matter-of-factly, his hands beginning to gently caress my sides to help me come down. “Huh?” I said eloquently and turned to look at him. He just gave me a soft grin, eyes squinting in joy as he took in my state. “I did what?” the question was more rhetorical and I wasn’t even really talking to Wooyoung, rather I started to squirm trying to look down as if my pussy held the answer. And in some way it did. When I managed to lift up my hips a little, my whole body protesting and Wooyoung behind me grunting at the jostling of his soft cock, hands digging into my hips to try and hold me still, I saw that the couch beneath us was absolutely soaked. Slight panic seized me, I didn’t even know why, it was just a natural reaction of my tired brain to the information that apparently Wooyoung, my best friend, had made me squirt for the first time in my life, all over Seonghwa’s lovely sofa. Well, at least it did explain why the orgasm had been so fucking intense, feeling as if the soul left my body and astral projected into a parallel universe.

The squirming dislodged Wooyoung from me and a splat of his cum joined the already huge stain on the furnishing. Now I winced, realising that there was no way either of us was surviving this. Unceremoniously I plopped back down into the mess and turned to Wooyoung, who was sweaty and rosy-cheeked, watching me with amusement.

“Seonghwa is going to fucking murder us,” I muttered tiredly, already back to fighting sleep off now that I was lying again. I let my eyes fall shut and only heard Wooyoung’s answering laugh, only felt him get up from the couch and gently roll me over on my back. There was shuffling, rustling of clothes and footsteps around the living room, but I couldn’t find the strength to look at what was Woo doing, letting myself drift on the high and the aftershocks that were still coursing through me.

Wooyoung was humming somewhere in the apartment and then there was a gentle touch on my hip. I whined but let him do what he needed. A warm wet towel was pressed onto my stomach lightly in lieu of warning and I slowly opened my legs again, feeling the strain and the burn that just hurt so good. Woo tenderly cleaned me up with soft unhurried strokes, then helped me sit up against the pillows to try and put some clothes back on me.

I blearily opened my eyes and blinked at him. Wooyoung was kneeling on the floor in front of me wearing only his sweats and holding his black tee. When he saw I was back in the land of living, he slowly pulled it over my head and helped my arms into the sleeves. I was feeling all warm and fuzzy from his sudden softness, thoroughly enjoying this after-care, suddenly found myself overtaken by the violent need to cuddle and sleep it off, so I was just about to suggest that, when he suddenly sprung to his feet and pulled me up with him. I let myself be man-handled with only a slight surprised yelp, but suddenly standing I realised my legs still weren’t in working order, if my shaking buckling knees were anything to go by, so I just grabbed onto his shoulders and hoped he wouldn’t let me fall.

He didn’t. Another nicely warm towel was now wiping my butt of anything I had been sitting in, his hand gently patting it before putting me back onto the couch in the area that was dry.

I wanted to sleep, but I was too amused by the picture of Wooyoung standing in front of the huge wet stain with a deep thinking expression on his face, wracking his brain for anything to do about it. When a giggle escaped me, suddenly his eyes were on me with a mischievous glint.

“You made the mess and now you laugh at me when I’m trying to save our lives?” he asked jokingly, amusement lacing his tone. I giggled again and curled around one of the pillows, fully committed to watching the comedy unfold. Wooyoung just sighed and looked at the couch as if it murdered his first-born.

“I gotta come up with something before-“ his voice was cut off by the door suddenly opening and a commotion coming in. There were three voices happily chattering something and I could recognise the guys from that. With terror I met Wooyoung’s eyes the moment we registered Seonghwa as one of the voices. Before any of us could even move a muscle, the three men walked into the room and promptly froze in their tracks.

“Holy shit!” It was San who shouted that, but we were focused on the cacophony of emotion going through Seonghwa’s face seconds before he cried out “MY COUCH!!” on the top of his lungs. There was genuine anguish and betrayal in his voice before his eyes redirected from the stain to us with pure fury.

“Okay! Time to take a shower!” Wooyoung shouted and pulled me up, but ended up supporting my entire body when my knees buckled and I was balancing on shaking legs like a new-born fawn. From this angle I could see the pure amusement and approval on San’s face right next to the disgusted traumatised Yeosang. I blushed furiously and let Wooyoung drag me off to a bathroom, where he sat me gently on the toilet.

“I’m going back out,” he whispered with determination as if he was about to walk into a battlefield, leaving his wounded comrade in the safety, knowing there was only death outside. I snickered at him and he theatrically waved at me from the door, before walking out and shutting it behind him.

I could still fairly clearly hear everything go down though, especially when only moments later Yeosang popped in to give me my clothes and stuff I left on the table and didn’t close the door fully after him. My phone was vibrating like crazy, which could only mean San was already blessing the group chat with all the piping hot tea. I unlocked it and clicked on the notifs.

Mountain man: lolol woo and y/n fucked on the couch and completely ruined it

Princess: ew fuck you wooyoung

Muscle baby: i’ll never fucking use the living room again

Brat: 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️

The situation unfolding in chat was interrupted by the scene that was going on in the living room in the real time.

“Calm down, I’ll think of something,” Wooyoung’s voice carried through, trying to console Hwa only to be followed by another shriek of “BUT MY COUCH!!”.

“Wow Wooyoung, I really thought better of you,” Sannie teased, adding oil to fire and I could clearly hear his laughs. No signs of Yeosang, but he was probably just standing there watching it all go down.

“I spent months picking it out!” the level of hysteria was steadily rising in Hwa’s voice and I really slowly started fearing for Woo’s life. “I’m gonna have it dry cleaned or something,” the said man offered only to be met with more shrieking.

“You better fucking throw that thing out, there’s no way I’m sitting on it after this,” San added very unhelpfully to the conversation, “especially since I saw the state of it.” There was a beat of silence during which I imagined Wooyoung was throwing daggers at San with his gaze for stirring more shit into it.

“I’ll buy a new one,” was his final plea and while it was met with some more grumbling and fake-crying, I could hear the situation calming down.

Captain: what the fuck is happening there when i’m not home

Mountain man: fornication

Demon angel: disgusting

M o t h e r: MY COUCH

M o t h e r: my amazing couch in the perfect shade of blue that i was looking for

M o t h e r: DEAD AND DEFILED

Puppy: i’ll help you look for a new one, hyung

Mountain man: wooyoung already agreed to buy a new one since he was the cause of the *suspiciously* large stain

Captain: no details

Captain: never any details

Captain: first rule of fight club

xoxo from hell: 🤔🤔

xoxo from hell: i think

Princess: oooh she breaks her silence

xoxo from hell: that a certain man here in this chat should rather shut up considering last week i walked in on him fucking a girl on the kitchen table

Brat: oop-

Mountain man: Y/N

Mountain man: NO

Demon angel: 🤮

Muscle baby: RIGHT WHERE WE EAT???!!!

Puppy: eat pussy apparently

Princess: nice

Captain: don’t encourage him

“MY KITCHEN TABLE?!” Seonghwa’s scream sounded through the flat just as Wooyoung slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him with a wide grin. Distantly I could hear San’s pleading and general chaos as Hwa no doubt started raining fury upon him.

“Nice save,” Wooyoung smirked at me and started ridding us of clothes so we could finally take the shower we both desperately needed. The feeling of the hot water hitting my spent and pleasantly aching body relaxed me and I sighed with content. I was basically ready to melt into a puddle right there, sleep slowly rearing its head back up, so I just went with the motion and let Woo soap us both up and rinse us, I let him dry me and put a fresh tee on me that I didn’t even notice he brought with him. I was just watching him with eyes half closed and a doped out smile on my face.

“You’re so cute like this,” Woo muttered as he led me through the hall to his room, amusement and fondness filling his voice with uncharacteristic gentle sweetness. Upon entering his room I immediately beelined for the bed and burrowed myself between the blankets and pillows. Woo rummaged around in his closet for a moment, but it was the only sound I could hear as the apartment suddenly fell almost eerily quiet.

“If I’m so cute now,” I finally mumbled out from underneath the cozy pile, “maybe you should fuck me more often then.” That had Wooyoung turning around to face me with a mischievous grin. “I fully intend to do that,” he said devilishly and jumped in with me. It took a bit of shuffling to get into a comfortable spooning position, but we were no strangers to cuddling each other, so it went rather smoothly.

Just as the sleep was claiming me and I felt myself getting pulled under, Woo suddenly perked up and said: “You don’t think the silence means hyung murdered San and now Yeosang’s helping him get rid of the body, right?” I snickered gently, but just swatted at him to lay back down.

“Well, he probably deserved it,” Woo muttered and snuggled in closer to me, letting the exhaustion finally lull us to sleep. And it was the most comfortable sleep I’ve had in a while, even if San potentially paid for it with his life.

Divider from the amazing @saradika-graphics 💜

A/N: hope you enjoyed yourself, don't be shy I'm always open to comments and asks!!

[writingouthere]

friendswithbenefits!Sukuna x reader. Your friend Yuuji sets you up on a date with his co-worker to help you get over your recent slump, not knowing that his dear older brother had ended it months ago.

cw: none really, some possessive behavior

"He's really great though, I swear!"

"What does 'really great' entail, exactly?"

"Well he's nice! Like, super nice."

You waited to see if there was any more information and when there didn't appear to be any forthcoming, pushed your friend. "Yuuji, I'm going to need a little bit more than that."

Yuuji seemed to think about this for a second and as he did you snuck some dumplings off his plate. He'd taken more than his fair share of the take out anyway.

You loved Yuuji, he was one of the most genuinely kind people you'd ever met. He just happened to have terrible taste in men, aside from his own boyfriend.

"Well, when I got lost the other day, he gave me directions and they were super helpful!"

"Wait, did you find this guy on the street? Are you setting me up with a stranger?" It wouldn't surprise you, Yuuji tended to adopt human beings the way a normal person might adopt stray cats. You couldn't complain too much since it's how the two of you had ended up being friends, but it didn't necessarily mean that whoever he'd picked up off the side of the road this time was your one true love.

"No, no, he works in the school too. He teaches like history or something. He just teaches in the upperclassmen building, so I don't see him that much."

"So he gave you directions after you got lost in your own place of work?"

Yuuji either doesn't hear your tone or he chooses to ignore it. "Yeah, really nice dude. He's also good friends with Maki, so you know he must respect women."

That was actually pretty persuasive. Maki would never put up with any man who was a piece of shit, maybe there was something here.

"Is he cute?"

Yuuji scratched his head and tried to take some dumplings off your plate while you blocked him with your chopsticks.

"I mean I guess, he always looks kind of sad but you're into that right?" You blocked his attempts at stealing your dumplings with a little more aggression than necessary at that.

"I am not!"

Yuuji hummed unimpressed, chewing on the dumpling he'd managed to snatch away while you argued. Thief.

"He's like a little taller than me, pretty eyes and he's stronger than he looks. He actually beat me in some sparring matches last year when the teachers competed." You listened even as you scowled at the way Yuuji said all this with his mouth still full of stolen food. He swallowed and gave you a mischievous smirk. "He has really nice hands too."

"Yuuji!"

"They're big and his fingers are long but not too skinny, they kind of remind me of Megumi's-"

"Who the fuck are you talking about?"

You stiffened as Yuuji's older brother walked in, scratching his bare midriff since he seemed to have once again forgot that wearing shirts was an expected human behavior. Even though he was only a few years older than you and Yuuji, he always seemed larger than life. Maybe because you had known him for so long.

"Yuuta, this guy I work with," Yuuji said, pouting when his brother stole some of the food off his plate. Served him right. "Hey! I asked you if you wanted anything before I ordered it."

"And I told you, I don't want any of this garbage. I'm just sampling," Sukuna said as he popped another piece of chicken in his mouth.

"Go eat your stupid healthy food then and leave our garbage alone," Yuuji protested pushing the plate out of Sukuna's reach. Naturally, this led to Sukuna shoving Yuuji's head into the table as he reached over and stole more food off the tray in the middle.

"So why are you talking about Yuuta's hands anyway. You and Fushiguro finally call it quits?" Sukuna's tone was casual but you had once seen him knock out a guy for groping Megumi in a club. If the day came where Yuuji and Megumi actually broke up, you think he might take turns knocking sense into both of them.

"Mnat mor me."

"Huh," Sukuna said even as he kept Yuuji's face pressed to the table. You rolled your eyes.

"He's saying that he's not the one interested, he's trying to set me up with him." You tried to push down the guilt you felt as you spoke after all you had nothing to be guilty about.

There was a flash of something in Sukuna's eyes but it was gone before you could identify it and with one last shove that had Yuuji groaning, he let him up.

"That hurt, you bastard!"

"Not an insult, I'm literally a bastard," Sukuna said and Yuuji rolled his eyes.

"Whatever, anyway, back to helping you get laid-"

"Hey!"

"-I'll let Yuuta know you'll meet him at six?"

"Can you make it eight, only old people eat at six." Yuuji nods and goes to type something in his phone. There's an awkward silence that he doesn't seem to notice and you can't help but look at Sukuna who hasn't taken his eyes off you.

"Didn't realize you were so desperate," Sukuna says and Yuuji doesn't look up from his phone before throwing a punch at him. Sukuna dodges, his eyes still on you.

"There's nothing wrong with going on a date," you say and you wonder who you're convincing. "It has been a while since a nice guy took me out."

"Ah right, I forgot you liked nice guys." His tone is too knowing and you feel yourself flush.

"Stop picking on her, Sukuna. Don't you need to be going to the gym, anyway?" Yuuji asks, finally putting down his phone. He seems to attribute the current tension for you and Sukuna's usual animosity. You wonder if that's all there is to it. Sukuna scoffs and walks back to his room. You still weren't sure why he'd even come out in the first place.

"Whatever, you two have fun planning the wedding," he says, his tone making your hackles rise.

"Say hi to Uraume for me," Yuuji calls back, oblivious. "Tell them I still want a rematch after last week."

Sukuna waves a hand before shutting the door to his room. Yuuji turns back to you and the two of you talk about other topics while your mind wanders.

You weren't doing anything wrong. Were you?

You and Yuuji decide to meet up with Megumi and Nobara for a movie before you need to get ready for your date. While Yuuji goes to his room to change, you head to the kitchen to clean up the remains of lunch.

You're putting some glasses in the sink when you feel a warm presence at your back. You can't hold back your sigh as a familiar pair of thick arms comes to wrap around your waist and a pair of lips presses gently against your neck.

"I haven't seen you in forever," Sukuna murmurs, the movement of his lips against your neck sending a familiar pulse of want to your core. You tell yourself not to let the soft gesture get to you. He never did shit like this without a purpose and his usual purpose isn't going to be fulfilled with Yuuji in the next room.

"You saw me last week, Sukuna," you remind him before leaning away from him to close the dishwasher. His hands slip down to your hips and you just know he's staring at your ass. You roll your eyes even as he pulls you back to him once you're standing. His hands pressing into the curve of your hips, putting pressure on them in that way that makes you melt.

"That's too long, princess. I was getting lonely," he teases and you feel him smirk against your cheek. "You must be lonely too."

"Actually I'm just fine," you tell him but you tilt your head so he can kiss the skin of your face, your neck, the parts of your shoulders revealed by the stretched collar of your old t-shirt. You let him lull you into a false sense of security before he reminds you why that's a bad idea.

"Really? I just assumed you felt lonely and that's why you were agreeing to go on dates with losers you've never even met."

There it was. This was why you couldn't let Sukuna get soft with you. He never did it without returning your vulnerability with malice.

"Sukuna," you say and you go to pull his arms off you but he pushes you into the counter, you wince as the cold stone presses against your body. "Let go of me." Your tone is calm even as emotions band their way across your throat.

"I would, but you seem to get lost when I let you out of my sights. I mean you're going to go on a date with some high school teacher?"

"Your brother literally has the same job?"

"Well, are you going to fuck my brother too?"

"For fuck's sake, Sukuna, get off me!"

Sukuna does let you go but only so he can turn you to face him.

Sukuna doesn't get mad the way normal people do. Usually he's just amused, maybe even mildly annoyed, but blatant rage isn't his thing. After your years of-acquaintanceship? light antagonism?-friendship, you recognized this as the stage where he was about to make his insults increasingly personal until you needed to go cry in the bathroom later.

"We are not dating," you tell him and he rolls his eyes.

"Obviously."

"Therefore, I can go on dates with other people."

"I don't give a fuck if you go on dates with other people."

"Great, because I'm going to go on this date tonight."

"Good for you."

"Yes, yes it is good for me!"

"You seem really happy with your choices," Sukuna goads in that tone of his. You hate that tone.

"I am. I don't plan on just accepting whatever scraps some loser will throw me when there are actually decent guys who want a real relationship."

Sukuna narrows his eyes at you. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I wasn't being subtle," you tell him before leaning back against the counter. Going for casual, knowing you're not quite hitting it. "Don't worry, I don't hold it against you. You can't give what you don't have, you know?"

"No, I don't know," Sukuna bites out and if he was anyone else, you would think you'd hurt his feelings but this wasn't anyone else and there was no way something you said bother him.

"You're just not a relationship person and that's-that's fine, I knew that before we started this thing. It's just, sometimes I want more." You soften your tone from earlier but it doesn't do anything to relieve the tension between the two of you.

"And this, Yuka is going to give you that?" He sounds bitter and he's not touching you. You'd been the one to tell him to back off but you couldn't remember the last time he hadn't had his hands on you in some way when it was just the two of you.

"I think his name was Yuuta," you correct before his expression tells you this is the wrong step.

"Right, okay. You know what, you go on your date and have the best time with Yuuta. I got places to be."

He brushes past you and goes back to his room just as Yuuji opens the door to his.

"Geez, what's his problem?" He asks as he makes his way over to you. You shrug your shoulders and he takes your lack of response as just your normal discontent with his brother and wraps his arm around your shoulder. "Don't let him get to you, he's just a dick."

"I know," you tell him and you do. You know Sukuna's true nature better than most.

You two make your way out of the apartment so you can make your movie and you try to ignore the guilt you feel as Yuuji talks to you.

"You know, he's actually been in a better mood the past few months. I think he might actually be seeing someone. Can you imagine who would be crazy enough to actually date that asshole?"

new series? wrote this to get the rust off so we'll see.

[katsu28]

rain, rain, (don't) go away

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: you put your trust in a handsome stranger in the midst of a bit of bizarre wet weather. what could go wrong? (4.6k)

warnings: minimal swearing

a/n: not quite the summer lando series i've been working on but the idea for this came to me in a dream a while ago lmao

It doesn’t often rain in Monaco. Especially not during the summer. 

So when you feel a drop splash against your forehead, then another, you’re wildly unprepared. You squint up at the rapidly darkening sky like it's personally wronged you, and you’re met with another raindrop, this time in your eye. 

Part of you wonders if you could try and make it home before it starts to pour. The other part knows it would be an impossible feat given your lack of a car and how far you’d have to run in such a short amount of time. Even as you ponder the thought, the occasional drops turn into a heavy drizzle. 

You barely make it under the nearest awning before it really starts to come down. All around you are people scrambling to get out of the rain and somewhere dry, caught off guard by the unexpected downpour like you are. 

“Crazy rain, huh?” You startle at the sound of a voice from next to you, gaze snapping to your left to see a man huddled under the same awning, most likely having come up with the same idea you did. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologizes, holding his hands up in surrender. “I take it you weren’t expecting rain when you left the house today either?” 

You scoff, chuckling. “Was anybody?” 

You tear your eyes away from the sky to look at him once more, and to say you’re pleasantly surprised is an understatement. 

Your awning buddy is awfully attractive, and looks to be around your age too. A form-fitting black sweater stretches across broad shoulders, paired with baggy blue jeans that might not have worked for everyone, but definitely suits him well. He’s smiling at you too, a lopsided grin that has you intrigued by him. “The one time I didn't check my weather app before I headed out.” 

“You actually check the weather app?” He chuckles, tilting his head. 

“You don’t?” 

“Can’t say that I do. Usually I just trust the vibes when I look out the window. Didn’t really work out today, though.” He holds his palm out from under the makeshift shelter, letting the rain pool in his hand before dumping it on the ground, flicking his fingers to rid them of the excess drops with a scrunched nose. “Is this your first time in Monaco?” 

You shook your head, smiling softly. “I live here. You?” He bobs his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s never rained like this though, especially this time of year.” 

“If it’s any consolation, I reckon it’ll stop soon. It’s usually pretty quick—” 

A bolt of lightning flashes through the sky right at that moment, followed by a clap of thunder not five seconds later. If it continues on like this, you might be stuck here forever. 

“Huh! Maybe not.” The man sounds amused, aiming a sympathetic smile at you. You can’t help but chuckle, and you notice it makes him perk up a bit, looking pleased with himself. “Hope you don’t have anywhere to be.” 

“Honestly? I don’t. But I’d rather not be standing under this awning til the storm lets up. Could be ages, by the looks of it.” 

A stream rushes its way down the street, carrying a sad swirl of leaves down the storm drain at the corner along with it. It seems everyone else has come to their senses and found somewhere warm and dry to wait out the sudden storm because when you look around, the two of you are the only ones still outside. 

As if the man can sense what you’re thinking, he speaks. He’s smiling hopefully at you, head tilted invitingly. “There’s a cafe down the block that was open before it started to rain. Care to join me?” 

Normally, you’d be wary about a handsome stranger inviting you to an unknown location. This seems like one of those situations you’ve been warned about, but right now you can’t find it in yourself to care. It’s about time you put yourself out there, take a chance for once. You’re pretty sure he won’t try to kidnap you. 

“I’d love to.” You reply. You peer out at the dreary grey sky again, lips twisting into a grimace. “Is it just me or does it seem to be raining harder?” 

“I say we make a break for it. Run like hell on three.” He says firmly. You nod and he does the same, holding out his hand. You slip your fingers through his without a second thought. “One, two, three—go, go, go!” 

You both take off in a wild sprint down the sidewalk, splashing through puddles on your way. He giggles the whole time, peals of laughter bouncing off the cobbled street that sound gleeful. You’re laughing too, because who would’ve ever thought you’d be running through the rain hand in hand with a guy you’ve only just met?

He tugs you along, leading the way to your destination confidently. Well, as confident as one can while being half-blinded by a torrential downpour. 

You nearly slip as you make a poor attempt at a sudden stop when he finally slows, and you probably would’ve ended up flat on your ass if he hadn’t grabbed you by your forearms, steadying you with an infectious grin that you can’t help but return. 

The bell above the door rings when the two of you stumble inside, soaked to the bone even in the very short time it took to get down the road. But you know what they say, when it rains, it pours. 

He shakes the rainwater from his hair not unlike a dog would shake out its fur, and in the process splatters you with the droplets. Normally you wouldn’t be too happy about it, but you’re already drenched and he’s very cute, so you don’t mind. 

The place is pretty much empty when you look around, save for a handful of other patrons doing their own things. It’s cute though—cozy and warm, the smell of coffee beans and something sweet floating through the air. You never noticed it before, but it’s exactly the kind of cafe that you love. 

The man seems to notice that you’re still holding hands, because his cheeks turn pink and he drops it, smiling rather bashfully. 

“Sorry. I’m Lando, by the way.” He introduces himself softly, rubbing the back of his neck. You tell him your name and he repeats it, testing it out on his tongue. You’re not ashamed to admit you like the way it sounds when he’s the one saying it. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you too.” 

“I’m gonna go order something so they don’t think we’re loitering. Preferably something hot, because I’ve got water in places water definitely shouldn’t be.” He shudders, pulling his soggy sweater away from his torso as proof. “Do you want anything?” 

You ponder for a moment before responding. “A latte sounds amazing right now. I’ll pay you back, of course.” 

Lando shakes his head, backpedaling towards the counter. “My treat. You just sit there and look pretty.” You roll your eyes playfully at him, but smile nonetheless. “Oh look, you’re doing great already!” 

That makes your cheeks grow hot. You’ve just met Lando and he’s flirting with you, and you don't mind at all. In fact, you have half a mind to flirt back. 

He finds you at a table soon after, balancing two cups and a concerningly large paper bag. You pop to your feet, carefully grabbing the bag to ease the load, and peer into it. There’s at least five different pastries inside, all of them looking absolutely mouthwatering. 

“I hope you’re hungry. Got convinced to buy a few things by the lovely old lady at the counter.” Lando says sheepishly, sliding into the seat opposite you. “Very persuasive, she is.” 

You shrug. “I could eat.” 

You’re not sure how long you sit there, chatting with each other like you're the only two in the world. It’s surprisingly easy to talk to him too. He’s funny and quick-witted and he talks very animatedly with his hands, you notice. You find it cute. 

Lando tells you about himself, asks about you and your life story, and you find yourself settling in nicely with his friendly nature. This isn’t a date by any means, but he makes it feel like one by the way he truly pays attention to you and what you're saying, nodding along closely with rapt attention. As far as listeners go, he's a fantastic one. 

You’ve also learned a lot about him. He was born and raised in the UK, but moved here a few years ago for work. What exactly did for work, he wasn’t too forthcoming with, but you don’t pay it any mind. You’ve just met, after all. You’re not expecting him to tell you his whole life story. 

But it also doesn’t feel like you’ve just met. You aren’t sure why, but Lando has this way of making you feel like you’ve known each other for ages, of making you feel comfortable and at ease with every word out of his mouth. 

Your clothes and hair have just started to dry out a bit, and you’re having a great time. Such a nice time, you don’t even notice the girl approaching your table. Lando sees her before you do, and he smiles politely. 

“Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you guys, but are you Lando Norris?” She asks hopefully. She looks young, maybe fifteen or sixteen. Her eyes flick to you, and you can tell she’s nervous, so you smile back. You’re confused to say the least, but you remember what you were like at her age. She reminds you a bit of yourself. 

Lando nods. “I am, yeah. What’s your name?” 

“Valeria. But everyone here just calls me Val. I’m the owner’s granddaughter, so I work here all the time.” 

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Val.” 

She looks positively starstruck now, hands trembling as she holds up her phone. “Would you mind if I got a photo with you? You can totally say no if I’m interrupting something, I—” 

“You’re alright, love, don’t worry.” Lando stands, moving into selfie position next to her. The poor girl’s arm shakes so much you’re positive the photo won’t turn out clear at all, so you slide out of your seat too. 

“Here, let me.” You take the phone gently, motioning the two of them to scoot closer to get them in frame with each other. 

Val looks a combination of relieved and grateful, while Lando gives off nothing but a cool, albeit reserved, confidence. The same kind of confidence a celebrity might have when approached by a fan of theirs. But certainly Lando couldn’t be famous…right? 

You shake away the idea, snapping a handful of photos before passing it back to her, figuring there can never be too many to choose from. She beams bright, hugging him quickly, then to your surprise, gives you a hug as well. 

“Thank you so much! I’ll get out of your hair now. Enjoy your food!” With that, she hurries away with a bounce in her step, disappearing into the kitchen. 

You turn to Lando with arched brows. “That was interesting.” 

“So interesting.” He echoes, but his tone makes it sound like he doesn’t quite agree. 

“What are you, famous or something?” You mean it as a light jest, but Lando looks guilty for some reason. He beckons for you to take your seat again, sliding back into his own before offering you a sheepish smile. 

“Um, there might be something I haven’t told you yet.” 

“Shit, are you actually famous?” 

“...Yeah, kinda.” You arch a curious brow, and he sighs, but not in exasperation. “I’m a Formula One racing driver. For McLaren.”

Formula One…racing…it all sounds slightly familiar, but you can’t quite place it. Then it dawns on you. 

Lando isn’t just a local celebrity—he’s literally world famous. 

You’ve heard your friends talk about the races before, a few of your relatives who keep up with the sport, but you’d never paid it any mind. It just wasn’t something you could see yourself being interested in. That really famous race that takes place here in the streets every year that makes traffic an absolute fucking nightmare the whole week, Lando drives in that race, and countless others around the world, if you recall your limited knowledge correctly. 

He’s…cool. And he’s sitting right here with you in a tiny cafe, and you had no idea who he was. 

“Oh my god, you must think I live under a rock or something! This is so embarrassing, I—” 

“No, no! I’m not—I don’t go around expecting everyone to know who I am, I swear. It’s just that most people usually do recognize me, and it saves me the whole ‘having to tell them I’m famous’ thing, which always just makes things really awkward, and…yeah.” 

“Things don’t have to be awkward.” 

“No?” 

“No. We don’t even have to talk about it.” 

“We don’t?” He sounds a tad wary, but when you nod, the tension in his posture melts away. Relief floods his features at once. “Thank you. It’s actually quite nice to meet someone who has no idea what I do. Makes me feel normal for once.” 

“Glad my lack of sports knowledge makes you feel like a regular guy,” You joke, nudging his foot with yours under the table. He gives you a light kick in return, infectious smile back in full bloom once again. You quite like it when he smiles. 

You’ve just moved on to a new topic that has nothing to do with Lando’s job when his phone buzzes, making him jolt in surprise. He digs it out of his pocket, and when he sees the name flash across the screen, his eyes go wide. 

“Sorry, hang on. I’ve gotta get this.” He says, hitting the answer button. It’s a quick phone call, and you try your best not to eavesdrop, but whoever is on the other line has Lando worked up when he hangs up. 

“Everything okay?” You ask lightly. Lando bobs his head quickly. 

“Yeah, it’s—I, uh, I’ve gotta go. I forgot about a work event, apparently. That was my press officer, wondering where the hell I am and how fast I can get there.” He sounds disappointed, smiling almost sadly. “So much for feeling normal.” 

You try your best not to let your face fall when you nod. “I should get going too. Get home before the next freak summer rainstorm.” 

It’s nice when you step outside. You tilt your face up towards the sky, feeling the sun warm your face. This is the Monaco you know and love. Though if it hadn’t rained, you would’ve never met Lando. 

He turns to face you, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Thanks for the nice afternoon. I had a good time.” 

“Me too.” 

“Maybe I’ll see you around?” 

“Maybe you will.” 

“I certainly hope so.” He says softly. You shift slightly on the balls of your feet, suddenly feeling awkward. You’re not sure how to leave things with him, and it looks like he feels the same by the way he mirrors your actions. “Um, I really should leave, so…goodbye, I guess?” The look on his face tells you that leaving is the last thing he wants to do, but he has to. 

“Bye, Lando.” 

“Bye.” He echoes, one more time before turning away from you to head down the street. 

You can only bring yourself to wait a few seconds before you call his name again. He turns around instantly despite his hurry, meeting your gaze. You want to say something to him that’ll make him remember you, because chances are you’ll never cross paths again. If you were brave enough, maybe you'd even ask him for his number. But you’re not, so you don’t. Instead, you just smile at him. 

“Thanks for the latte.” 

If he’s disappointed, he hides it well. He smiles back at you, warm and bright like the sun beginning to peek out from behind the clouds. “Of course.” 

You watch him walk away, fighting that pesky little feeling in your gut telling you that you’re making a mistake by letting him go. It’ll go away soon, and you’ll go on with your life like you’re meant to. 

-------

You find yourself going back to the same cafe often, whenever you're out and want a little treat before you go home. The pastries are always still as delicious as the first time you had them, and you’ve become well acquainted with the staff as the time goes on. 

Oh, and that feeling you had when you let Lando leave without a word? 

It never went away. It’s still here, worming its way into your thoughts every chance it can get. 

You’re a little embarrassed to admit that every time you walk into the cafe, you hope you’ll see Lando. It’s wishful thinking more than anything, hoping he’ll be there when you go. He’s probably busy doing his thing anywhere but here, busy racing around in the world to the tune of thousands of screaming fans. You’re not sure if he even remembers you, or the afternoon you’d spent together. 

Why would he? In the world of Lando Norris, world famous Formula One driver, you’re probably just a speck of dirt in his rearview mirror. 

The thought gets pushed to the back of your mind as you step up to the counter to order. Val beams at you from behind the register. 

“Hey, Val,” You greet the young girl warmly, returning her smile. You’ve become quite fond of her and her youthful energy, and she always brightens your day. “How’s business going?” 

“Oh you know, same old.” Val waves an absentminded hand in the air as she keys in your usual order with the other. Her smile turns mischievous at the same time, like she knows something you don’t, and you narrow your eyes at her, already knowing what she's going to ask. “Have you heard from Lando?” 

“No, I haven’t. How’s summer school going?” 

She makes a funky face at you, rolling her eyes. “Boring. Way to change the subject though.” Before she can press any more about Lando, someone calls her name from the kitchen. “Ugh, I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfy, wait for your order, you know the drill!” 

You chuckle to yourself, heading straight for your usual table by the window to wait for your name to be called. 

You like to sit while you enjoy your food and drink, watching the people and cars go by outside. The streets of Monaco are always busy and bustling, but being in here feels like a pocket of peace. 

“Is this seat taken?” 

Your brow crinkles at the sudden voice, because you know for a fact there are at least four or five other empty tables available other than the one you’re currently sitting at, but this person chose to to ask you. 

Pocket of peace…disrupted. 

You let out a short sigh through your nose, turning your head from the window to politely tell them to find another seat, preferably at a table that isn’t yours, and that’s when you see him. 

Lando is grinning at you when you look over, lopsided and endearing just like the first time you met him. 

“Oh fuck!” You can’t help the expletive that falls from your mouth at the sight of him, even though there’s a thousand other things you’d told yourself you’d say to Lando if you ever saw him again. He’s got his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants, and he’s rocking on the balls of his feet slightly like he’s nervous as he waits for you to do something other than curse at him. “Lando! I—you—hi.” 

“Hi,” He echoes, shoulders creeping up towards his ears. All you can do is stare at him, wide eyed in disbelief. “Mind if I sit?” 

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean, yes, you can sit.” You fumble over your words like you’re not used to speaking, feeling your cheeks flame embarrassingly hot. Lando just chuckles, sliding into the chair across from you. “Um, so how’ve you been?” 

He rubs at the back of his neck, bobbing his head. “Good! Bit busy. We had a triple header the last three weeks, so it’s just nice to be home again.” 

“Oh, I bet. I don’t think I’d be very good company if I couldn’t sleep in my own bed for three straight weeks.” 

“That’s fair. Though to be honest, I’ve gotten scarily good at falling asleep anywhere. If it’s a flat surface, I can nap.” 

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or concerned.” 

“Impressed would be mint. Otherwise I just sound like a dumbass.” 

You laugh at that, and in this moment, you realize just how much you’ve missed Lando. No matter how many times you’ve tried to convince yourself to forget about him, to convince yourself that there was no point in pining after someone you’d only spent a few hours with, it all came back to this. You missed him because you like him. 

“I need to tell you something.” He blurts suddenly, bracing his elbows on the table. 

You nod, expression turning thoughtful. Whatever thoughts you’re having about liking Lando can wait. “Sure, go ahead.” 

“This is gonna sound unbelievably weird and maybe even a little bit creepy, but I need to get it off my chest or else I think I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that Lando looked nervous. The bouncing of his leg you can feel under the table and the way he plays with his fingers supports your theory. 

You cock your head at him, reaching across the surface to steady his fidgeting with a hand over both of his. His gaze snaps down to your touching hands, and you can see him visibly gulp. 

“What’s going on? Are you okay, is something wrong?” 

He shakes his head quickly. “No, nothing’s wrong. Everything is…the opposite, really. Everything is right. Meeting you, finding my way back to you—here of all places. I don’t believe in fate or anything like that, but this sure feels like something along those lines.” 

“Lando, I—”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that afternoon. I tried everything. Nothing worked. I couldn’t get you out of my head.” He confesses. His fingers curl around yours gently, thumb stroking over the ridges of your knuckles. “If I’m being completely with myself, I think it’s because I didn’t want to get you out of my head. And I just got off the plane an hour ago, but instead of going home and passing out like I usually do, I came here, hoping that somehow, you’d be here too.” 

“Can I say something now?” You ask lightly, stifling a giggle. 

His cheeks flush an embarrassed pink, and he motions for you to go ahead. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. I talk too much when I get nervous. I’m working on it, I—fuck, sorry again. You go. I’ll shut up.” 

“I still think it’s cute.”

“Is that the only thing about me you still think is cute, or…?” 

That gets another laugh out of you. You chuckle, giving his hand a squeeze. “Not at all. I still think all of you is cute, and…I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either. We haven’t known each other long, but I really like you, Lando.”  

“I could kiss you right now.” 

“What’s stopping you?”

You don’t have time to second guess your newfound confidence before he’s leaning across the table, sliding a large hand over your jaw and pressing his lips against yours. Lando kisses you softly—gentle, like he’s worried you’ll pull away if he’s too forward with it. 

You’re fully aware that you’re smiling like a madman against his lips, but in your defense, he is too. His eyes open slowly when you pull away, almost tentatively as if he’s not quite sure what just happened actually happened. 

He leans back just enough to study you, letting his gaze flit around your face, taking in every detail he possibly can. All while he grins larger than Cheshire cat, like he’s a kid whose parents just told them they could get whatever they wanted at the candy shop, instead of kissing you for the first time. 

“I was gonna be nice and bring you your order, but it looks like you’ve already got something sweet.” Val’s voice cuts through the moment, and when you look over at her, she looks over the moon. 

“Lando, you remember Val, right?” 

“Uh huh,” Lando hums, holding out his hand for a fist bump that she happily gives him. “Thanks again for the heads up.” 

“Hold on, what? What heads up?” 

The two of them share a look, like they’re debating whether or not to tell you their secret. Then Lando sighs, giving her a go ahead nod, and she squeals, setting your food down. 

“Okay, so you know how you come in here all the time after work? Well me, being the keenly observant, brilliant young mind I am, noticed a pattern. You come on the same days, at the same time, and you never stray.” She explains excitedly, all but bouncing on the balls of her feet. You aim a questioning glance over at Lando, who just gives another amused nod.

Val continues excitedly, “So I’m expecting you today, right? But then the door opens and guess who walks in? Lando! He asks me if you’ve ever come back here after that one day and I’m like oh my god, you have no idea! So I tell him to wait a half hour for you, and now you’re both here and my matchmaking skills can be put to rest.”

“Are you being serious right now? Really, I can’t tell.” 

She tilts her head, popping a hand on her hip. For the same girl who’d been so nervous to meet Lando just weeks ago, she’s got a surprising amount of sass in his presence today. “Why would I not be serious? I’m basically a genius, and I expect to be invited to the wedding. You’re welcome, by the way.” 

“Alright, that’s enough, cheers, Val!” Lando blurts, shooting her a pointed look. 

“Can I get paddock passes for making this whole thing happen? Preferably Monaco but I could probably make it to Monza too. Imola is a little far.” 

Lando blinks at her for a few moments, probably seeing if she actually means it. When all she does is raise her eyebrows, he concedes. “Maybe. I’ll make some calls, see what I can do.” 

“Fantastic. Well, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone!” 

You both watch as she all but skips happily off, then turn back to each other. 

“She’s…definitely something,” You sigh, shaking your head. Secretly, you owe her everything. 

“Eh, I dunno. Kid’s growing on me.” He reaches across the table, lacing his fingers through yours with a fond twinkle in those pretty eyes of his. 

“How serious are you about those paddock passes?” 

“I mean…she did help me out massively. I’d have missed you if it weren’t for her.” Lando shrugs, rubbing an absentminded thumb over yours. “I hope you know I would’ve come back until I found you again. Everyday, if I had to.” 

“Me too.” 

If you’d told your past self that a bizarre summer rainstorm in sunny Monaco would’ve led you to where you are right now, you wouldn’t have believed it. But now, as you sit here with Lando, smiling at each other like complete and total idiots, you’ve never been more grateful for a bit of unexpected rain.

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[slytherinshua]

YOUR WOUNDS WRAPPED WITH MY LOVE

genre. fluff. tiny bit of angst. mafia au. warnings. descriptions of a stab wound. blood. knives and guns. some profanity. kissing. they kinda argue but very mildly. i researched a little on how to treat wounds but pls don't expect it to be too accurate 😭. pairing. fiancé!jeno x reader. wc. 1.5k. request. no. a/n. so ever since the concept trailers this jeno has been the only thing on my mind I swear 😔 and nursing trope is one of my fav tropes ever so I joined the two together and was very delulu 👍

read part 2 here !

“Again?” You asked, less than happy at the sight of the tall man who stood against the doorframe, one hand clutching his side painfully. Lee Jeno always disappeared without warning on another mission only to return, usually injured, for you to patch him up. You had urged him to hire an actual medic for the job, but he refused, saying he didn’t trust anyone but you to get that close to him. That was a few years back when the occasions for it were still rare. You were alarmed at how often he seemed to be going out, and returning with increasingly worse injuries.

Your knowledge and skill with patching up wounds— dagger wounds, bruises and scrapes from physical altercations, hell, even gunshot wounds— was a lot better than years ago. You were confident in your ability to get your fiancé back to health, but you weren’t pleased with how often you had to. No matter how much you pleaded with him to let his body rest, he would more often than not, be out again just hours after you had tended to his bleeding body.

“I’m sorry.” He grumbled out. You would have been shocked by how hoarse his voice had become if this was the first time, but you were all too used to it. Your heart still clenched painfully seeing him in that state.

He could barely walk, blood dripping a little from where his hand pressed tightly to his left side, his face scrunched in pain as laboured irregular breaths left his mouth. 

“Come here. Sit down. Tell me what happened.” You said quietly, already having gotten out the box of medical supplies. You were ready with the bottle of saline already, but it wasn’t anywhere near the top of Jeno’s worries. From the tone of your voice, he could tell you were mad at him. Or maybe it was mostly disappointment? A touch of worry, perhaps.

He made his way towards you, carefully limping towards the bed until he could gently lower himself onto it with his weight supported by the bedframe. He sat still as you gently took off his shirt, eyes assessing the dark red spot that stained the side of his stomach and up his ribcage. You glanced up to his face, and he met your eyes for half a second with a slow breath out.

“Knife. It’s not that deep, I stopped their hand before they could push it in very far.” He whispered, and then shut his eyes tightly when you dabbed a little at the wound with a soft wet cloth soaked in saline.

“Are you staying for long?” You asked, guarding your heart for what his answer would be. You loved Jeno— you loved him more than anything, and you tried to be as selfless as you could regarding him and his job. You never put up a fuss about having to patch him up, and you only ever gently tried to persuade him to be more careful. But it was hard, really hard. You couldn’t help but be hopeful that he might be able to stay for a bit longer with you. You hated how you only seemed to be seeing him to treat his wounds for the past month.

But it only reminded you of how he was by far the most selfless person you knew. 

Countless threats had always been looking for Jeno’s weakness. And you happened to be the most vital one. You were unspeakably precious to him, and unfortunately, his rivals knew that. Of course, he did everything he could to protect you. You trusted him with your life. There was no one else who you would ever trust as much as him. And he had never lost your trust. You had never even had a scratch delivered to you. But the tradeoff of the protection that Jeno made sure you had was his own life being put at risk almost every day.

Every cut, stab, or bruise that littered his fair skin were marks of how determined he was to keep you safe. The least you could do was treat his body in return with your gentle hands, wiping away the blood, wrapping the wounds carefully, and stitching them up when needed.

Jeno answered your question with only a silent nod yes. Although relief filled your body that he wouldn’t be out again immediately, you still focused on the more important task at hand. You could enjoy his company once he wasn’t bleeding.

“Are they still after you?” You rummaged around in the box for the antibiotic ointment, dabbing a bit on your finger before leaning closer to apply it. “This’ll sting.” You muttered as a warning before dabbing the wound as carefully as you could. Jeno tensed up, his fingers bunching up the sheet of the bed as he did his best to stay still.

“Talk to me. It’ll help distract you.” You told him, pausing your application of the antibiotics to rest a hand on his shoulder, providing a small bit of comfort.

“They’re… They’re after you, not me. You know that.” He whispered out as you continued to treat the wound. “They can’t take me by themselves— they’d be fucking stupid to try. I made sure that they won’t bother us for at least a month. I’ll have to talk to Renjun and Donghyuck about our next course of action.” You hummed in understanding, grabbing the roll of gauze next. 

“You need to rest your body, Jeno.” You said quietly. You could tell he was about to protest, so you interrupted quickly, “Doctor’s orders. Don’t pull anymore dumb shit.”

“It’s not dumb shit. It’s to protect you.” He argued back, clenching his jaw.

You sighed, starting to wrap the white cloth around his waist, “I know. But you said yourself that you have a month. At least for a week of that month, you need to rest and recover.” 

Your fiancé seemed unsettled at the thought of a whole week of rest; a week of letting his guard down. It was almost unheard of for him. He knew from experience that as soon as he let himself relax, something unexpected would happen. But maybe you were right. Maybe a week of rest is what he needed.

You secured the wrap tightly, and mumbled out how you were all done. Jeno just stared at you while you cleaned up, soaking up the face he hadn’t gotten a chance to study for the past month. He felt incredibly guilty for how often he had been gone, and even more so for how often he had let you see him like this. He knew you hated it, but you never complained. He didn’t deserve you.

“I love you.” He spoke suddenly, interrupting the cold silence of the room. You shut the metal drawer slowly, back still turned to him as you let a small smile grow on your face. You hadn’t heard those words from him in a while. You turned back to sit down next to him again, your eyes staring into his.

“Won’t you say it back?” He whispered, reaching for your hand; your left hand, the one that adorned that diamond ring he had given you months prior. You let him pull you closer as his right hand enclosed over your left. His fingers felt a bit rough, but they were warm and comfortable. With his left hand on the back of your neck, he gently guided you forward until his lips closed over yours.

You could just barely taste the metallicness of blood from the slight cut to his bottom lip. But you didn’t focus on it, too absorbed in the gentleness of his kiss and how perfectly his lips felt against yours even after years had passed. He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed as he caught his breath. 

You pecked his lips again, “I love you too. Always.”

He visibly relaxed at your words and dropped his head to your shoulder. You sighed, threading your fingers through the hair at the bottom of his neck, holding him closely. He shuddered quietly, and you frowned.

“Cold?” Your hand ran up and down his back slowly, feeling goosebumps rise from the chill. You traced one of the many scars that marked him, stopping at the dip of his scapula and muscle. You reached behind your back, feeling around along the mattress for a blanket. You caught hold of it and gently draped it around Jeno. 

You smiled fondly at the way he nestled his head a little closer to the crook of your neck. From his breath, you figured he was already almost asleep. You didn’t want to disturb his sleep, but you knew the position would quickly get uncomfortable, so you shifted his head down to your chest and laid back until you hit the mattress. He didn’t protest at all, but shifted into a comfortable spot in his half-asleep state. With his head on your chest, his arm around your waist, and his legs tangled with yours, you found the new position to be much more promising for getting good sleep.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead and made sure the blanket covered his body before you closed your eyes as well.

↳ nct dream taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,,

[edenesth]

TWTHH Bonus: Honeymoon Avenue

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

A/N: This picks up directly from the final part of TWTHH, and takes place before the events of Wooyoung's spinoff.

Fic Masterlist | Star of the Show

You let out a small groan as you woke up from your slumber, feeling a familiar pair of arms tightening their hold around you. Your heart skipped a beat as you remembered where you were, blinking a few times to clear your vision and take in the surroundings you recognised as Seonghwa's private quarters.

Warmth rushed to your cheeks as you felt your husband's steady breath against the bare skin of your shoulder from behind. Shyness washed over you when you realised you were both still completely bare beneath the fabric of his comforter.

Memories of the intimacy from the previous night flooded your mind, and you buried your face in the pillow. It was as if you could still feel every touch, every kiss, and every moment of pleasure he had given you. So, this was how it felt to be loved so passionately. You hoped for nothing more than for him to be your first and last.

"Good morning, my love. I see you're up," his deep voice greeted, sounding even deeper than usual as he had only just woken up. He leaned in to whisper sensually into your ear before planting a soft kiss on your cheek, "Did you sleep well?"

Turning to face him, you nodded meekly, biting your lip, "I did, Hwa. Good morning to you too," you replied, feeling your breath hitch as his gaze focused solely on your lips.

He nodded in response, "Good, so did I." Without hesitation, he cupped your cheek and pressed his lips firmly against yours.

Your eyes fluttered shut the moment his familiar lips met yours. Kissing him back as if it were second nature, you wished for this moment to last forever as his larger frame enveloped yours, the skin-to-skin contact creating an intimacy that made you feel closer than ever. His ability to make you feel vulnerable yet safe at the same time still filled you with wonder. At that moment, his presence was all-encompassing; he was all you could see and think of.

I can't believe this man is all mine.

Seonghwa, equally content, felt his heart swell with affection for you. Caressing your cheek, he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, struggling to control his breathing when you bravely reached up to run your fingers through his hair, gently tugging at it. Despite witnessing your growing boldness since his return from war, your reciprocation of his affections still stirred his heart.

I'm yours and only yours, my love.

As you finally broke the kiss to catch your breath, he grinned and murmured, "Damn, Lady Park, who would've thought you'd be such an excellent kisser." Despite the blush creeping up your cheeks, you scoffed playfully. Moving to lay your head on his chest, you traced patterns on his skin with your finger, "What do you know, General Park? You speak as though you've kissed anyone other than me."

His pride swelled as he nodded in defeat to your response. Day by day, you were increasingly embodying the essence of the general's wife with your newfound demeanour. It wasn't that you needed to change for him; rather, it was remarkable to witness your transformation into a confident woman who knew her worth, having shed the old shell crafted by your so-called family. Reflecting on his time away at war, he began to see it as a blessing in disguise. Perhaps it was necessary for you to undergo further personal growth.

Nestling into the curve of his neck, you pulled the comforter up higher to conceal your front. A shiver raced down your spine as his hand traced gentle patterns on your bare back beneath the fabric, making you feel slightly bashful at being so exposed to him. He smirked, placing a kiss on your neck and teasing, "Are you getting shy now, my wife? There's no need to cover up or hide from me; I've already seen everything."

"You can be so annoying, you know that?" Rolling your eyes, you playfully pushed at his chest, but he easily resisted, his strength overpowering your feeble attempts. With feather-light kisses dancing across your skin, he tickled you, eliciting a giggle. Chuckling, he remarked, "Oh, come on. I miss the bold Lady Park who took charge last night."

Blushing, you let out an embarrassed squeal, "Oh, quit it! Stop reminding me!" He chuckled, hugging you close against him, his voice teasing as he whispered in your ear, "Remember how badly you wanted me to undo your hanbok?"

"Shut up, Park Seonghwa, or else—"

"Or else what, my dear Lady Park?"

Your husband's smug grin only fueled your frustration. Summoning a surge of determination, you swiftly flipped him onto the bed, looming over him as you straddled his hips, "I'll make you regret it," you declared, a playful glare in your eyes.

His heart skipped a beat as he looked up at you, struck by your beauty with your long hair framing your face like a curtain.

"Go ahead, my love. Make me regret."

Unbeknownst to the two, Eunsook and the group of maids assigned to bathe the couple all exchanged sheepish glances. The head maid cleared her throat, shooting a stern look at the young maids to silence them for fear of alerting you both, ordering in a soft voice, "We'll come back later. It seems the master and mistress are not quite prepared to begin their day just yet."

Jongho was taken aback to see the elderly woman return with the maids she had brought along, supposedly to get the couple ready for the day, "Huh? Are you all finished already? That was fast."

Dismissing the maids, Eunsook offered the assistant a knowing smile, "It appears the master and mistress are, um... still occupied at the moment. We'll come back later to check on them. For now, please ensure no one disturbs them."

His ears turned red as he registered what she meant by that, nodding quickly, "Y-yes, of course! I'll make sure no one passes through."

As half a day slipped away, you and Seonghwa finally emerged from his quarters, ready to receive your baths. The maids couldn't contain their giggles as they noticed the new marks adorning your skin, evidence of the passionate night—and morning—you and the general had shared. These marks were different from your old scars—they spoke of love and affection rather than pain. You pouted at their laughter, but they only laughed harder, "Enough, you meanies."

Eunsook softened as she washed your hair, "We're just happy for you, mistress. You are happy, aren't you?"

You bit your lip, nodding, "I am happy. The happiest woman on earth, if possible."

"Then that's all that matters to us."

Their hearts warmed at the beautiful smile that graced your face, wishing for nothing more than for you to remain content for as long as possible. You, the miracle who had brought so much light into the once sombre halls of the general's estate, truly deserved all the happiness in the world.

On the other side of the room, while assisting his master with the final touches of his outfit for the day, Jongho couldn't help but notice Seonghwa's dreamy expression and the persistent little smile on his handsome face.

"You seem to be in a good mood, sir," the assistant remarked as he focused on fastening the ribbons on the general's attire. Your husband nodded, "I am. Who would've thought married life isn't half as bad as we initially believed. In fact, it's pretty damn amazing. You should try it too, Jongho."

Blinking rapidly, the younger man raised a brow, "Try what? Marriage? Sir, I have no time for that. I'd make a terrible husband."

Seonghwa sighed, "See, that's your problem. You're always too dedicated, never making time for yourself. As much as I value your dedication, I want you to find happiness too."

"I am content, sir."

"Oh, come on, that's not what I meant—"

"Your outfit is ready, sir. You're all set."

Shaking his head in resignation, the general rubbed his temples, "Wooyoung was right about you. You need to get a life."

"He said what? The audacity—"

Heaving a deep sigh, Seonghwa rubbed his eyes after going over all the reports Mingi had prepared detailing every aspect of the recent war with Ruhon—the strategies employed and areas for improvement. The documents required his stamp of approval before they were shipped off to be stored in the palace archives. The military strategist had provided such detailed explanations that they were now giving him a headache.

"Gosh, I can't decide whether I love or hate Officer Song for these long ass reports. They're thorough to the point of being exhausting," he said with a shake of his head, "Is that everything, Jongho?"

The assistant nodded, gathering the completed scrolls to be delivered to San for a final vetting, "Yes, sir. That was the last of it. You're finished for the day. If that is all, I should probably hand these over to Royal Secretary Choi immediately."

"Oh, thank god. Go ahead, Jongho."

With a respectful bow, the younger man did not waste another second making a beeline for the exit, his mind focused on nothing else but his task. The general stared after him with a defeated huff, wishing for his aide to be a little less uptight and to live a little, "I should probably find him a wife."

Speaking of wives, he was reminded of his own. Suddenly, all concerns for Jongho's love life were pushed to the back of his mind and forgotten. Excitedly rising from his seat, his heart raced with anticipation as he set off to find you. He felt bad for leaving you alone for most of the day due to his work, but now he couldn't wait to have you all to himself.

Oh, it would feel like paradise.

He frowned, his steps faltering when he found you nowhere in the House of Lotus. Hastening his pace, he headed to the garden, where you often spent time tending to the flowers with Eunsook and the maids, only to find it empty. As a last resort, he even checked Yunho's quarters, torn between relief at finding the physician alone and frustration at not finding you.

Could you be upset with him for not spending time with you all day? No, that didn't seem like you at all. You were literally the most understanding person he knew. So, where could you be hiding? The wildest scenarios began to creep into his mind when he couldn't find you. What if his enemies had somehow infiltrated the estate? What if you were kidnapped? What if—

His thoughts were interrupted by the sight of you in the living hall, seated with Hongjoong and Wooyoung, seemingly engrossed in something. The two men watched you intently, particularly the investigator, who seemed more focused on your face than whatever you were doing. With a clearing of his throat, Seonghwa crossed his arms over his chest, "What are you three up to?"

Turning to glare at him, the dressmaker hushed him, "Keep it down, you doofus! She's trying to concentrate!"

Feeling offended, your husband narrowed his eyes and stepped closer to finally see what you had been up to; you were focused on learning embroidery. It dawned on him that Hongjoong must be teaching you a bit about his craft. He softened as he observed the deeply immersed look on your face, with your tongue poking out of the corner of your lips in concentration.

Good lord, she looks adorable.

In his attempt to move closer to you, he was met with yet another warning glare, causing annoyance to bubble within him. While he was grateful for the company Hongjoong and Wooyoung provided you in his absence, a part of him couldn't shake the irritation of seeing you accompanied by other men, even if they were his friends.

At that moment, he questioned why the guys were still around. The dressmaker, physician, and investigator had only been summoned while he was away at war to watch over you. Now that he was back home, he realised their presence was no longer necessary. It was then that he made a firm decision. From now on, he was determined to spend this time after your wedding alone with you.

The general wasted no time gathering his three friends that evening as soon as your embroidery lesson came to an end. With a polite yet firm tone, he explained his desire to have some alone time with you, dismissing them from the estate. Hongjoong and Yunho exchanged knowing glances, understanding the importance of the honeymoon period for passionate newlyweds like yourselves. Although Wooyoung was reluctant to go, he ultimately knew he had no choice but to comply with Seonghwa's request.

In a matter of days, the trio officially left the estate, returning to their own lives. This left you and your husband alone at last, ready to begin this new chapter of your lives together.

True to his expectations, the weeks that followed were pure bliss. He requested time off from work, and His Majesty was happy to oblige. He spent nearly every waking hour glued to you. By this point, everyone in the estate knew better than to interrupt when the master and mistress wanted privacy, ensuring the couple had all the intimate moments they needed. There were even jokes among the staff that a little Park might be on the way soon at this rate.

And perhaps their predictions weren't so far-fetched after all. It was on a fine day when you were spending another lovely afternoon in the House of Lotus practising embroidering, or at least tried to, with your husband seated behind you, his arms encircling your frame, that you began to show signs of sickness.

Leaving kisses all over your neck, he tickled you endlessly, causing you to giggle and push him away, "Hwa, please, I can't focus when you keep—" Before you could finish your sentence, a sudden wave of nausea hit you, and you let out a small gasp, pressing a hand to your chest to contain it.

Concerned, he immediately stopped and turned you around gently, "What is it, my love? Are you alright?"

"I-I'm fine... the feeling's gone, maybe it was something I ate," you reassured him when he suggested summoning the physician. Eventually, he relented and left you alone.

The second time occurred during dinner, with the kitchen having prepared one of your favourite dishes. Instead of savouring it as you normally would, you pressed a hand to your nose, "You okay, my wife?" you nodded and attempted to eat, only to end up retching from the smell of the dish.

Once again, you insisted you were fine and refused to see the doctor. He let you be, telling himself that if anything else were to happen, he wouldn't hesitate to call Yunho over. You convinced him that you must have caught the cold or something, seemingly fine after some rest.

The breaking point came during a leisurely stroll together in the garden. He tightened his hold on you when he noticed you swaying slightly. Smiling up at him, you reassured him, "I'm fine, Hwa. You worry too much." To ease his worries, you pressed your lips against his. For a moment, it worked, and he lost himself in the sweet kiss.

However, when you pulled back, seemingly out of breath, his heart lurched in his chest as your eyes rolled back, and he didn't waste a second catching your limp form in his arms.

"Jongho! Get Physician Jung here now!"

The sense of terror hit Seonghwa like a tidal wave as he found himself cradling you, unconscious, on his bed. Seeing you like this scared him more than any war ever could. Yunho rushed in shortly after, and the general reluctantly stepped aside to let the doctor examine you. Gently, he held your wrist, reading your pulse, after ensuring you were physically alright.

A few tense moments later, the taller man turned around with a smile, and your husband held his breath, "Congratulations, General Park. Your wife is with child."

Emotions surged within your husband as he released a sigh of relief, tears gathering in his eyes. The realisation dawned on him—of course, you were pregnant. How had he not considered that sooner? Slowly, the significance of it all began to sink in. The love of his life was carrying his child.

I'm going to be a father.

Y'all, I was sleep-deprived asf writing the second half part of this bonus part HAHA I hope it didn't seem rushed or anything.

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[chelseeebe]

and they said, speak now

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of cheating. femreader!xeddie. no use of y/n!

a little second chance romance story wherein eddie is invited to your wedding, though he’s hopeful that it’ll never actually happen.

a/n: wanted to get this finished so i could start writing a follow up for too sweet (bc i love it and i love mean asshole eddie) so i hope it bridges some sort of gap while i write :p switches pov a lil bit but it’s all marked out 4 ya.

“-gettin’ married to who?” eddie spits, barreling into the living room with a mouthful of cereal.

steve looks up from the paper invite and shrugs, “mark?” mouthing a quiet i don’t know as robin looks between the two.

“and i’m invited?”

“i mean.. it says all of us so..” he looks up at eddie, “do you even want to go?” dubious at eddie’s overly keen questioning.

eddie’s bewildered that he’d even ask, “‘course we’re fucking going,” shaking his head, still gripping onto his bowl of cereal, “i didn’t even know she was datin’ anybody else.. what the fuck.”

robin shares a look with her best friend, thinking eddie hasn’t seen. he knows exactly what they’re not saying. it doesn’t exactly need to be spelled out for him.

perhaps eddie hadn’t ever really gotten over it. it being you leaving to new york for college, breaking up with him in the process.

maybe they were justified in their judgemental glances, it’d been years since you’d left. he should be over it by now. evidently, you’ve moved on. why hadn’t he?

but he wasn’t and now he’s not sure if he’ll ever be.

-

the five of them shovel into jonathan’s car, robin squished between eddie and steve in the back with their bags piled high in the trunk.

eddie stares out of the window, he had started to regret agreeing to go. his ex-girlfriend, whom he wasn’t exactly over, was getting married to some fuckhead he’d never met and now he had to go and wear a suit and pretend to be happy about it all.

“i still can’t believe she’s getting fucking married,” he grumbles into his fist.

robin grins, nudging her elbow into steve’s ribcage, “oh this going to be so much fun,” elated at his misery.

jonathan sighs quietly, throwing his head back against the seat and slyly turning the volume up so as to not hear any more of eddie’s whining.

there’d been months of it, so he’s not surprised.

-

eddie is fucking elated to reach the hotel, gawping at the grand exterior as they get out of the car, stretching their legs after the long trip.

“jeez,” robin utters, staring at the tall building with her mouth hung open, “at least she’s marrying rich, hey?” wiggling her brows at eddie’s less than excited face.

he doesn’t rise to it, ignoring her obvious attempts to get him riled up.

it’s even nicer inside, gold plated ornaments decorate the walls, outdated paintings of old people he didn’t care to know, joining them.

they’re in the process of checking in when a familiar voice comes from behind, a small, meek, “hey guys!”

it’s you.

they spin, sharing tired smiles as you stand looking horrifically awkward. like somehow you hadn’t shared years and years of history with every single person here.

everyone else gets a short, half hug, exchanging niceties while eddie waits patiently for his turn. he doesn’t think you’ll even acknowledge him.

but your eyes lock, that same sinking feeling that he felt all those years ago as he watched your car pull out of hawkins plagues his stomach.

“hey,” you nod, tense as you open your arms for a hug.

it’s more than he’d ever expected, now finding himself stuck, unable to embrace the situation. you’re exactly the same and yet he feels like he doesn’t recognise you. barely touched by the graces of age, still the same girl he was sure he still loved.

eventually he pulls himself together, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to pull you in.

fuck.

you even smell the same. the heavy vanilla scent of your shampoo wafts through the air, transporting him back in time to nights shared in his cramped room, talking about the future together and how you couldn’t wait to get out of hawkins.

it’s utterly ironic, and not to mention heartbreaking, to think about now.

“hi,” eddie musters, sounding as pathetic as he felt.

the others watch on in anticipation, expecting a screaming match only to be met with whatever the fuck this was. dancing around each other like two complete strangers.

“how.. uh, how was the drive?” you ask, fiddling with your fingers, the way you used to when you were nervous.

“long,” he smiles meekly.

there’s too much he wants to say, desperately wanting to just shake you and ask what the hell you’re doing getting married to someone who’s not him.

besides, four sets of eyes watch both of you eagerly, hoping for an argument or maybe the exact opposite.

“there you are!” a gruff voice bellows, coming out of the mouth of the most insufferable looking man eddie’s ever seen.

he walks over with his shit-eating grin, taking you away from eddie’s grasp, leaving an aching in his fingertips.

your brows shoot upward, sighing softly, “everyone, this is mark.. mark, these are my..” your eyes dip, unable to meet eddie’s gaze, “friends.”

mark’s hand extends towards eddie, grinning like a complete fool as he shakes it. “nice to meet you man! heard so much about you,” his grip tight, squeezing the tired bones in his hand.

eddie wonders if he’s asserting his dominance, if you’d told him who exactly he was. about all those years you spent as his girlfriend. about how he used to make you cum in two minutes. or perhaps all the times you swore that if you had to get married, it’d be to him.

eddie doesn’t count on it.

-

eddie waits. and he waits. and he waits.

pacing the floor of his room, contemplating if he truly had the nerve to stalk the halls to your room or if he’d have to sit here and regret it forever.

fuck it, he thinks. there’s no guarantee he’ll even knock on the door, he just needs to get out of here and at least try to.

eddie’s acutely aware that nothing he says to you will change your mind in fact, he thinks you’ll more than likely slam the door in his face.

but he’s gotta try.

- reader’s pov -

it’s a quiet knock, barely audible as you toss and turn.

you debate even answering, too caught up in your nerves to care about some bridesmaid complaining about her dress or your mother prattling on about the floral arrangements again.

but then they knock again, louder this time though it sounds more unsure, a hesitant wrap of the knuckles, pulling yourself from the comfort of your blanket to see what they wanted.

you hardly register who the person is before immediately wanting to slam the door in his face.

“what are you doing?” you hiss through the small gap in the door, noting that it was somewhere between 11 and midnight.

“i wanna talk,” eddie frowns, carefully wedging his foot between the door, as if you wouldn’t immediately notice.

“we don’t need to talk,” you refute, scowling at your batshit crazy ex.

he sighs, looking around the empty corridor, knowing he shouldn’t be here right now. “can we.. i just wanna talk.. that’s it,” his eyes wide and begging.

you take pity on him, you always did when he had that pathetic frown on his face. like a dejected puppy that needed you to cradle him.

something in your head screams out to just close the door, it’s a terrible idea and you know it.

alas, you pull it open a few more inches, giving him the chance to slide inside before it’s shut again, turning the lock immediately.

if anyone were to walk in, your relationship would be ruined, tomorrow would just be a waste of money and you’d be a social pariah in your circles.

“why didn’t you tell me that you were getting married?”

the nerve to ask that question like he deserved an explanation. you haven’t even seen the man in years and yet, he feels as if he’s owed something from you.

“i didn’t know i had to,” you shrug, standing a few feet away from him, hoping to keep the distance.

eddie scowls, brows knitted into a line across his forehead, “you don’t- i thought we were friends.. friends tell each other those things.”

“you haven’t seen me in years eddie!” raising your voice despite being surrounded by your friends and family. “what gives you the right to march in here and ask me that?” stepping closer with every word, taken aback by his sheer nerve.

his eyes harden, jaw tense, “you left me- you did that and then the next time i hear from you, it’s because you’re getting married? s’that not completely fucked up to you too?”

“i didn’t leave you! i went to college, like people our age are supposed to! it’s not my fault that you’d rather sit in jeff’s basement pretending to be a rockstar,” snarling your upper lip, hoping you’ll hit him right where it hurts.

if nothing else, it’s frustrating. eddie was always talking about his big dreams and how he was going to get out of hawkins once and for all, make something of himself and never look back.

but you got tired of waiting for that to happen. years and years of soon and i’m not ready’s had left you pretty hopeless for any kind of future with him.

he shakes his head, scoffing, “oh? so should i have followed you to new york? watched you change everything about yourself for some asshole?”

there’s a lump in your throat now and weirdly, not a speck of anger. at least not about his words for your fiancé. more so about his complete disregard of your feelings, the dreams you put on hold for him.

“i didn’t.. i didn’t change,” bottom lip trembling, “this is me eddie,” nostrils flaring as you skulk closer, “you just don’t know me anymore.”

“i know you better than he does,” he fires back, adams apple bobbing in his throat. a sincere, honest tone.

it only makes you more frustrated, the audacity to come here and act like this, the day before your wedding.

you laugh in his face, a maniacal cackle, “you’re deluded,” gathering all of your strength not to punch him in the face, “you should leave, before you embarrass yourself any more.”

he’s almost frantic now, grasping the air, “i’m not the one embarrassing myself here. the you i know would never want this.. what happened to that girl who promised to marry me? where’s she?”

“people change eddie! you clearly haven’t!” you hiss, prodding your finger into his chest, hoping you’ll somehow set him alight with your fingertip.

he grabs your hand, keeping it close to his heart as his frown sets in. “tell me- tell me that this is what you want, the big wedding and fucking mark and a coupl’a kids, tell me and i’ll leave,” downturned eyes, begging himself not to cry.

you want to scream, ferociously snatching your hand away from him before you turn away. sick to death of looking into his glossy chestnut eyes. loathing the feeling of your past flooding back into your brain.

a few years ago, you would’ve been certain that eddie was the one you were going to marry. marriage wasn’t something you were ever particularly interested in, your parents hadn’t been the best example. but if it had happened, it would’ve been nothing like this, maybe in the tiny chapel in hawkins, a couple years from now, a small, private ceremony with your friends and family. you’d be lying if you said you had never thought about it.

about what could’ve been.

somewhere, buried deep inside, you longed for it.

eddie doesn’t budge, hearing the sounds of his heavy breathing from behind. you can picture that stupid look on his face, pathetic and sullen as he waits for a fleck of hope.

you turn back, praying that you’ll have somehow found the strength to tell him to leave in the two seconds it takes to face him.

it doesn’t come, the lump in your throat dissipating only to be replaced with a fiery pit in your stomach.

and then a moment, where neither of you have the guts to speak any longer, in what feels like the most intense battle of eye contact you’d ever been a part of.

but it’s over as quickly as it started, both of you lurching forward at the same time, lips crashing together in a hungry kiss, finding the side of his head for leverage as his antsy hands grip your waist.

the rest is just a silent routine, one you two have been through a hundred times before.

your back crashes into the desk, pressed into the wood by his torso. a hand squeezing your thigh as you’re helped onto the surface.

the metal on your fourth finger aches, as if some higher power is attempting to intervene, to stop this mistake before it goes too far.

it’s dutifully ignored, spreading your legs to allow him between your soft thighs. the thin material of your shorts meant that you could feel everything. his cock jumping as it brushes against your heat, low grumbling into your mouth at the action.

his jacket slips from his shoulders and onto the floor, your soft hands running down the length of his arms, brushing against the tattoos you used to spend hours tracing.

eddie’s hands roam your body, between your thighs, tucking underneath the elastic of the shorts as your hips lift in unison, allowing him to pull them down.

his throat rumbles at your lack of underwear, rough denim pressed against your cunt, his erection demanding out of his jeans.

your fingers fumble with his jeans, hearing the low clink of his belt somewhere muddled between his grunting and your melodic pants.

the throbbing between your thighs becomes almost insatiable, finding your own release on the rough fabric of his jeans, sighing into his mouth, allowing his tongue to slip into yours instead.

cold fingers grip your thighs, lifting your legs so that they rest around his waist, clothed cock nudging against your heat, growling into your mouth.

your head jerks back, “my mom.. my mom’s next door..” you pant, fingers trailing over his lips, doing nothing to muffle his raspy groans.

“good,” eddie smirks, hurriedly tugging his boxers down beneath his balls, burying himself inside of your soaked cunt, “i never liked her.”

a strangled moan is all you manage in response, grabbing at the desk for a little leverage as his hips meet the back of your thighs. any anger you felt towards his insults towards your mother quickly float away, turning into static as he slides slowly in and out.

marvelling at the sight of your cunt once again envelopes around him. you’d missed that, his damn near infatuation with your pussy.

the wooden frame knocks against the wall, whatever shit you had compiled for the morning all comes tumbling down, clattering to the floor alongside your long mewls.

eddie near enough melts, fingers melding into one with your skin, filling your cunt to the hilt. a certain feeling that had never been replaced, only achieved by him and his undeniable love for your pussy.

your lips catch onto his, attempting to muffle his hoarse groans, hoping to to god that the walls were thick enough.

“missed you,” he murmurs, half into your mouth, the other vibrating against your chin as your lips connect in the most careless manner.

your eyes flutter shut, chest heaving, pressed to his as your fingers begin to loosen their grip on the desk. his pace unfaltering with utter desperation, an exhilaration he had chased for years, to no avail.

“fuck,” you whine, regretting the shaky word the second it slips out. one arm hooks around his neck, forehead resting against his as his hair begins to stick.

it’s so disgusting, so wracked with desire that you’re sure you’ll be thinking- feeling it for months.

eddie’s cock nudges against against the spot only he could ever find, his pubic bone catching against your clit. fuelling the inextinguishable fire in your stomach, only making it rise into your throat.

with every fervent thrust he’s grumbling something;

fuck, shit, love you, love you.

your legs tremble, exhausted as they sit around his zealous hips. naturally, they tighten, drawing him in closer, an incessant need to feel all of him all at once.

“you can’t.. not inside,” you pant, opening his eyes to meet his though they’re not on yours. staring starry eyed at the space between your bodies, watching as they collide in ways your heart had longed for.

he’s close, you can tell. choking on his breaths when you squeeze around him, signalling your own orgasm.

“fuck, i can’t-,” eddie howls, desperately pounding his cock into your quivering cunt, giving everything away for the last thirty seconds.

you cry out, toppling over the edge as your stomach all but bursts, the pleasure reaching every last nerve in your body. clinging to his neck with a white knuckle grip, clutching his clammy skin as your body turns to mush before him.

eddie just about manages to pull out, sliding between your slick folds before his stomach lurches, shooting thick ropes of cum onto your stomach, thighs and the desk.

your foreheads remain as one, gasping into the hot air that surrounds you.

finally, his eyes trail up toward yours, meeting with the most sorrowful look that a man who has just cum, could hold.

it’s as if reality sets in, untangling your legs to shove him away. harsh and untoward as he stumbles back, still reeling from his own orgasm.

“oh my god,” you mumble incoherently, “oh my god, i’m getting married tomorrow,” clenching your fist, shouting as if he were somehow unaware.

his silence is deafening, his release still clinging to your body as you jump from the wooden table, marching into the bathroom, swallowing the urge to cry.

eddie stands with his head hung low, belt still undone as you sanctimoniously barging back past him to redress yourself, muttering ferocious whispers to yourself.

“i’m getting married tomorrow,” you repeat, unwavering anger in your voice. undecided on whether you were telling him or yourself that fact.

“so you’re still gonna marry him?” eddie asks, a slight hint of optimism in his tone. he had reason to be, you suppose. anyone else would assume the same.

you swallow, “what else is there for me?”

getting married had been the next logical step. you had the job, the house, the sweet, timid guy that wouldn’t hurt a fly. why wouldn’t you marry him?

his face crumples, brows stitched together in confusion, “me?”

almost on instinct, your head shakes, smacking your palm into his shoulder, “no. not you. it’s not supposed to be you,” a certain sadness plaguing your tone, “it was never supposed to be you,” palm slapping into his chest.

eddie’s face falls, holding his jacket in his hands wishing you’d take it back, tell him you were lying and that you really did still love him.

buried somewhere under years of regret, you probably still did.

tears weep out of the corner of your eye, quickly wiped away with your trembling finger. “you need to leave,” eyes pointed to the floor, refusing to look at him any longer.

he sighs, hesitantly stepping around the mess you both had made and out of your peripheral view. slow steps, willing for your mouth to open and those three words to dance out of it.

the door clicks shut and you’re alone again. nauseous and wishing you had just let him stay, wanting nothing more than to be held in your insurmountable feelings of remorse.

-

you’ve barely slept, overwhelmed with a sense of guilt and indecision.

six years of work and making something of yourself had come horrifically crashing down in one night, one stupid, moronic mistake.

but was it really a mistake when your heart still aches and your lips still feel the traces of his.

a short knock breaks you from your trance, the noise you’d been dreading all night.

sarah. bright-eyed and stupidly excitable nature, ready for your wedding day.

“woah,” she remarks, eyes darting around the room you’re just now realising you forgot to clean, “crazy night?” she smirks, eyeing the bottles and pens that had fallen from the desk to the floor.

“oh,” you smile, bile rising in your throat, “i’m just..” clambering for an excuse, “clumsy.”

she scoffs, dumping her bag on the unmade bed, “you don’t have to lie to me,” smile growing, “if you and mark wanna.. break traditions then i’m all for it.”

her wilful innocence makes you feel all the more worse. you’re supposed best friend was none the wiser, bouncing around with a proud smile, ready for your wedding day.

- eddie’s pov -

steve notices something’s up immediately.

dark rings accompanying eddie’s eyes after he had gone missing for hours last night.

“you good?” steve’s hand thwacks against his back, assuming eddie’s manner was all to do with the fact that you were getting married and not that only a few hours ago, he was telling you that he still loved you while you were having sex.

the ride to the venue is quiet, which everyone appreciates, having prepared for a litany of complaints and whining.

the church is even more extravagant than the hotel, resembling one of those castles he’d seen in a fairytale book.

he wants that to make him feel better, that at least he wasn’t the one wasting all of this money on a stupid wedding, but it doesn’t.

because irregardless of how much money you were spending, you were still marrying someone else.

sure, it wouldn’t be a particularly honest nor holy marriage but it’d be a marriage nonetheless. something he would never have with you. no matter how hard he tried.

they file into the pew, sitting slumped against the varnished wood as everyone chatters around him.

concerned heads fly around, the groomsmen rushing up the aisle as they’re beckoned by your bridesmaids.

eddie sits up, looking around at the frantic bridesmaids who were desperately trying to get the pastor’s attention. something’s wrong. he can feel it in his bones.

he throws up a quick two with his fingers to steve before sliding out of the pew, ducking his head down the aisle as he searches for you.

slipping past the worried wedding party, opening a multitude of doors in search of you. hoping that you’d at least made it to the church, that you were okay.

he doesn’t expect to find you in here, holding onto your mouth, mascara stains dripping down your cheeks, curled into the corner with your shoulders shaking. eddie slips in, shoving the broom in between the door handle, ensuring that no one else could find the pair of you.

you spend a moment, gazing into each other’s eyes until you squeak, “what’re you doing?” the most soul crushing tone that makes his heart ache.

“i came to find you,” he says, simply.

because he would, he’d do it in every life.

your palm smears the black stains around your cheek, scoffing at his words. “you shouldn’t have.. i’m fine,” trying to convince yourself more than you were him.

“you don’t look fine.”

your bottom lip trembles, threatening to spill over again. evoking a harsh stab of guilt through his chest. eddie surges toward you, placing his palms over yours, “you don’t have to do this.. we can leave right now,” he assures, searching your eyes. he’d whisk you away in a heartbeat, you didn’t even have to ask. just give him that look.

your nostrils flare, a wail constricted to the back of your throat, trying hard not to alert the hundreds of wedding guests sat just a couple hundred meters away. the dark light of the closet does well to accentuate your tearful eyes, his heart aching with every sniffle, every quietened sob that falls from your lips.

then, you growl, rather forcefully slapping his chest, “this is your fault,” fingers grabbing onto his suit jacket, “why couldn’t you just leave me alone?” frustration seeping out of your words.

eddie doesn’t have an answer, at least not one that would make you feel better.

so he stands in silence, letting you treat him like your verbal punching bag.

“i can’t do it,” you cry, burying your face into his neck, “i can’t.. marry him.”

he nods, stood just before you in this cramped closet, “you don’t have to,” assuredly grabbing your sodden cheeks, streaks of black stain his palms, “we can go.. anywhere you want, right now.”

promising the world because really, it was all he had to offer.

he wasn’t rich, hadn’t figured out how to get the fuck out of hawkins yet but he did know that he loves you and he’d do anything to prove that.

you swallow, averting your eyes to the sparkling ring on your hand, curled into the fabric of his jacket. “okay,” flicking back to his eyes, it’s so simple and yet it knocks the breath from his lungs.

nothing really registers, eddie had planned for more bargaining, certain that regardless of his pleas, you’d still end up walking down that aisle, promising yourself to another man.

“really?” he asks, clarifying for both himself and for you. there was still time for you to pull yourself together and go get married, he wasn’t going to deny you that.

“really,” you nod frantically, “i’ll go anywhere,” tugging at the collar of his shirt, “anywhere with you.”

[teamatsumu]

kinktober 2023 -> day 21

window - suna rintarou x reader

word count: 1601

kinktober masterlist

warnings: usual smut warnings, dub-con (?), semi-public sex

“This is so nice, Rin!” You grinned in excitement, taking in the hotel room around you. The bed was king-sized, made neatly, lamps on either side tables illuminating the room. The lights in the ceiling were subtle too, giving the room an ambience you loved. Across from you were floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the city, showing you exactly how high up you were. You whistled lowly when you walked up to them, looking down at the twinkling lights. When Hinata had excitedly told you about the hotel they were staying at, you thought he was lying when he said it was the tallest building in the city. But he wasn’t. You were miles above anyone else.

Behind you, Suna placed both your luggage beside the door with a soft thud, closing the door behind him and using the key card to lock it. He hummed in approval, sharp eyes looking around until they met you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I never knew being a pro-athlete for a National Team meant you would get so many perks. If I had, I would’ve started dating you a long time ago.” You teased, making him chuckle as he unzipped his team jacket and took it off, throwing it over a chair next to the wall. You watched him stretch, eyes drawn to the little patch of skin visible under the hem of his shirt. When he caught you looking, evident by the smirk on his face, you turned back to the window abruptly, cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

You and Suna had been friends since high school, when you had managed the volleyball club for three years. With his laid back personality and almost brooding vibe, it was hard to imagine how he was friends with you, always energetic, sometimes anxious and overthinking. You were worlds apart, yet you felt that Suna was just what you needed to hold you together. He filled up any gap in your personality. He made you care less about what others thought of you, just as you made him care more, which was what he needed.

You two were perfect for each other.

It was only a matter of time before you started seeing each other in a more romantic light. And now here you were, years after high school and almost seven months of dating later, you were accompanying Suna to one of his away games for the first time. Despite knowing him for so long and dating for over half a year, you still weren’t used to the intimacy. You loved it, of course, but given your anxious, self-doubting nature, you had yet to accept it wholeheartedly.

Unbeknownst to you, Suna was enamored by your hesitancy. A sick, twisted part of him loved to push you to your limits, knowing you would let him because you trusted him completely. It was like scratching an itch, the doubt in your eyes when he suggested something a little risky, and as he watched your back now, peering out of the open window at the brightly lit city night lights, a new idea formed in his head, and the itch came back.

You almost yelped, startled when you felt Suna at your back, hands finding your waist and chin leaning against your shoulder.

“Geez, Rin, you scared m-” You gasped when his teeth nipped at the skin of your neck, body stiffening and eyes widening at the feeling on your lower back, something hard digging into you. Oh.

You giggled a bit, letting out a breathy moan when Suna grinded his pelvis against you, making his…. problem… more known. His lips were mapping out the skin of your neck, nipping playfully every few seconds and drawing a sigh out of your slightly parted lips.

Your whole body stiffened when one of Suna’s hands traveled low, hiking up the hem of your dress until his fingers had reached your panties, hastily shoving his hand into them and cupping your bare sex. You gasped and jerked, trying to push his body back, but of course, he didn’t budge. You gripped his wrist tight as he started rubbing over your folds, your body jerking forward to try and unlatch him from your back.

“Rin!” You cried, eyes so wide they felt like they would pop out of your head. “What’re you-”

All you got back was a hum from your boyfriend, bordering on a moan as his fingertip dipped teasingly through your folds. You gasped, knees buckling slightly, Suna’s other arm coming up to wrap tightly around your waist. He dug his teeth into your neck more, and you could hear him inhale deeply.

“‘M horny, babe.” He drawled, voice a few octaves lower than usual. You felt yourself clench at the sound. “Be a good girl and take it.”

Oh. He knew exactly what he was doing. Calling you a good girl. And you were too weak when it came to him. You couldn’t resist the pulls and beckons of his body, pressed so solidly and deliciously into you from behind, until you could feel every shift of his muscles. But this time, as you looked down at the busy city below you, your fears were too great.

“H-here?” Your voice trembled, half from anxiety and half from the teasing brush of Suna’s fingers, still barely touching you but doing enough to rile you up. You weighed the options in your head like a pros and cons list, feeling a thrill go through you at the thought of just doing it right here. He hummed.

“Why not?” He answered your question with a question, an annoying habit of his, whilst pushing you to take a step forward until your body was pressed to the glass in front of you. The coldness of it ran like a shock through your body, instinctively moving back from it, which Suna took as you grinding back on him, making him groan into your shoulder. The hand inside your panties pushed down then, rolling the fabric down until it rested at the tops of your thighs. You felt him shuffling around behind you until you felt the press of his bare cock between your asscheeks, gasping when the tip rubbed through your slit.

“R-Rin…” Your voice was barely there, already losing your train of thought. Your mouth dropped when he penetrated you, no prep whatsoever, causing your core to burn as it stretched to accommodate his girth, just the way you liked. You heard his deep groan behind you, sounding so satisfied, as if he had been craving this for so long, and the thought drove a whine out of you, your cheek pressed to the cold glass as you were pushed forward because of Suna’s weight.

Then he started moving, slowly at first and then picking up speed, pulling back enough to push your dress up until it rested on your lower back, your ass on display. Suna bit his lip at the sight, gripping your hips tight and pulling them back, using one hand to push your back down until you were bent to his liking, before he started furiously and speedily pounding into you. You gasped at the change in pace, pressing your hands and forearms into the window for any form of support, eyes rolling shut at the feeling of Suna’s thick cock ramming into your tight, poorly prepped hole.

“Open your eyes, princess,” one of Suna’s hands wound into your hair, tugging your head up. “Look.”

And you did, tears rolling down your face when Suna hit your sweet spot, tip grazing it over and over with every thrust. Your core was tightening, walls already spasming around him, as you watched people move around below you, almost the size of insects, unaware of what was happening some storeys above them. You felt Suna lean forward until his torso was draped over your back, pace not faltering in the slightest but the angle shifting in a way that had you crying out in pleasure.

“Think they know what’s goin’ on?” He rumbled into your ear, referring to the people outside the window. “Think they know you’re getting your pretty little cunt abused by my fucking cock? Bent over and taking it like a good little whore. Fuck. The way you're clenching around me. Dirty girl. You love this, don’t you?”

“N-no.” You whined, your tone of voice contradicting your words.

Suna chucked, racking up the pace even more as if to prove a point.

“No? Don’t lie, princess. You wouldn’t be this wet if you didn’t like it. Makin’ a mess all over me.”

“Rin, I’m cumming.” You choked out suddenly, his words tipping you forward until you were teetering over the edge, clenching desperately around him as your legs shook, whining long and loud when your orgasm hit, core pulsing and sending shockwaves down your system. You gasped and cried through it, eyes nearly crossing at the euphoric feeling, not even registering when Suna finished as well, moaning into the back of your neck and filling you up with his hot cum.

You didn’t move, frozen in place as you panted and tried to stop your vision from swimming. You felt Suna gently pull out, shuffling around a bit before he guided you to straighten up slowly, picking you up and carrying you to the bed. You sighed as you sunk into the soft sheets, cold over your heated skin.

Suna watched as you knocked out almost instantly, smiling softly and pressing a light kiss over your hairline.

His itch had been scratched.

Taglist:

@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 1 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran n @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles @argwein

A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!

[monster-disaster]

[elf] Everen

elf!Everen x human!Reader Good to know: smut

Summary: Your boss demands you to go after him into the woods.

For long seconds, the ringing of your phone seems unreal and far away. It needs time to break through your dreams, and when it does, you can't help but groan into the darkness of your room. You are disoriented and confused. Your phone doesn't stop vibrating on the nightstand next to you. The bluish light of the screen illuminates the ceiling. It blinds you for a second as you turn on your back and grab the small device. You have to force yourself to stay awake even though tears gather and escape from the corner of your eyes because of the sudden light. You can barely see the picture of your boss with his name at the bottom. You groan again.

"Mad?" His voice breaks the silence of your room. You can see him frowning on the screen. His thick, almost white brows cause a deep wrinkle between them. "It's me," you croak out. You don't even have enough energy to react to the stupid nickname he gave you years ago. Reaching out for the small lamp, you turn it on. "Did I wake you?" You glance up at the clock in the corner of your phone. It's almost one o'clock. "What do you think?" "You look like shit." "What do you want, Everen?" You ask him impatiently. Your voice is still hoarse with sleep but more steady and strict. "I need you to come here." Long seconds pass in silence before you snap. "What do you want now?" "I'm going crazy here," he says, looking around wherever he is. The only thing you can see behind him is a window with curtains. "You can't be serious," you breathe out your frustration. "You are barely there for twelve hours." "So?" You groan. "Then come home!" "I can't," he argues. "I need this." "Then why do you want me there?" You snap at him again. "You are my personal assistant, no?" He asks. "You have to do what I say." Your resignation is at the tip of your tongue, but you gulp it down at the last moment. "You are five hours away, Everen. You can't be serious." "Do I look like I'm joking?" He asks back. You don't even have to look at him to know he is not joking. You are not even sure if he can do that. "You can be here by the morning." You have to close your eyes to keep your calm. "I arrive when I arrive!" "Fine," he grunts, and you end the call.

Fucking unbelievable!

You met Everen when you finished college. He needed someone he could order around, and you needed a job to keep a roof over your head. It was a match made in hell.

The elf writes fantasy. And he is good at them. Really good. He is popular, and his books are bestsellers. Everen is lucky his personality doesn't show on the pages. He is headstrong, mean, and spoiled. Most of the time, you feel like a babysitter.

At first, he only used you to get him coffee, do his shopping, and keep in contact with his publisher, so he didn't have to. As the years went by, he asked for, or demanded, help with his stories. Read them and give them your honest opinion. Point out the mistakes and drag down his ego. Well, he didn't ask for the latter, but you like to do it nonetheless. Besides the salary, this is the only perk of your job.

After sleeping for a few hours more, you pack your things and begin your journey to Ironridge.

Everen decided to turn his back on the city when two months passed without him writing anything. The elf is sure he only needs some solitude and nature to clear his head and finish his book in time. There are two problems, though: he hates being alone, and he has no survival skills in nature, even though you know there is a town just a ride away, and he has a perfectly good cabin in the woods.

"What?" You ask him when you get out of the car, and Everen just stares at you without a word. He sits on the porch with a mug in his hands. "You are here," he states, and you freeze. "You asked me to come, remember?" Gods, if he says he wasn't serious you will kill him. Nobody knows you are here, and the forest is big enough to hide his body. Everen scoffs. "Of course, I remember!" "Good," you nod, grabbing your things to take them into the house. As you stop next to him in front of the entrance of the cabin, you notice what he wears. His boots are too new and useless for the woods, and his jeans are too tight to be comfortable. The red flannel shirt is something you never thought you would see on him. "You look ridiculous," you tell him before disappearing into the house.

The place is small. There is barely enough space for a kitchen and a living room with a couch and fireplace. The bathroom and the bedroom are next to each other at the back.

Oh, right, where are you going to sleep?

"The couch is comfortable," Everen says from behind you.

Right. Of course.

"Always a gentleman."

After putting down your things and grabbing a mug to pour yourself some coffee, you turn your attention back to the elf. "So, what did you do yesterday?" You ask him. "Did you write something or go for a walk?" He looks at you like you are crazy. "For a walk? Outside?" "Yes," you nod, and when the expression on his chiseled face doesn't change, you groan. "Why are we even here if you don't go out?" "To be close to nature." You will kill him. Nobody will know. "Next time just by a fucking plant!" "You are not really nice," he states. "Did you sleep enough?" For seconds, you just stare at him without blinking. "I wrote a few pages yesterday," he adds when he decides to change the topic for safety reasons. "Do you want to read it?" "Do you want to show them to me?" There are times when Everet is really cautious with his work, and despite your odd relationship with him, you don't want to make him do things he doesn't want to. His books and his career are really important to him, and you respect them.

Without saying anything, the elf nods at the laptop on the couch, and you sit down to read it. Long minutes pass by while you focus on the screen, and Everen walks back and forth behind you. His platinum-blonde hair is tied back with a leather stripe. The long, straight locks almost reach his slim waist.

"Holyshit," you break the silence. The elf stops and leans over the back of the couch to see the screen in your lap. The pillow behind your back sinks under his weight. "So?" He asks urgently. "What do you think?" "Since when do you write erotica?" "The publisher told me to spice things up," he explains. "He says it's popular." You frown. "Your books are popular." Everen shrugs. "Is it really that bad?" "It's so dry," you tell him. You can see he doesn't like the publisher's instructions, either, so you try to be nicer than usual. Now you understand why he got stuck with his book. "And you used "member" at least twenty times. It's not a rock band, Everen, it's a dick." You don't even have to look back at him to know he is offended. You just notice it from the way his breathing changes. "Can you do better?" "I mean…" you shrug. "I could give it a try." You are not a writer and don't want to be one, but you can clearly see what's wrong with his work. "Then be my guest," he says. "Do your best."

You spend the next few hours on the couch, adjusting and changing things you don't like in the scene. The only noise in the small cabin is the keyboard's clattering as you write. Sometimes you hear Everen do something in the house, mostly making coffee after coffee. He is lucky elves don't tend to get heart attacks.

"Are you writing a whole book?" He asks impatiently. "I didn't ask you to change the whole book." Rolling your eyes, you push the laptop onto the couch from your lap to stand up. "I'm done," you tell him. "Read it if you want."

While your boss busies himself with the book, you go out with another drink to enjoy some peace and fresh air. You feel even more tired than you arrived. You settle into the rocking chair Everen used when you arrived. The wooden floorboards feel solid beneath your feet as you rock back and forth ever so slowly. As you sip your coffee, your gaze wanders into the woods. Towering trees sway gently in the gentle summer breeze. The sunlight filters through the canopy above, casting a dappled pattern of light and shadow on the lush greenery. The air smells like pine, damp earth, and wildflowers, mixing with the coffee in your hands. Birdsong fills the quietness, a symphony of chirps and trills.

Usually, you prefer the loud business of the city, but if you have to be honest, this is good too. Your only problem is…

Everen almost bursts out of the house. His handsome face is cold and strict. Something burns in his eyes, but you don't recognize what.

"How did you do this?" He demands for an answer. You shrug, sipping from your coffee. "I have a soul." Everen's frown deepens. "I have that too!" "I don't know what to say," you reply. "Did you do that before?" "You mean writing a sex scene?" You ask. "No." "No," he shakes his head. "The scene itself." You almost laugh. "Of course I did." A light blush spreads across his cheeks, and a nagging feeling starts to eat the back of your mind. "You didn't?" His blush deepens. "Does it matter?" "I mean, no," you reply. "But it's really… vanilla." "For who?" "For me? And for a bunch of other people?" "Well," he grunts. "I want it too." You freeze. The swaying of the chair under you stops. "I'm not sure what you want me to do," you break the momentary silence after a while. The words leave your lips slowly and carefully. "I want you to sit on my face," he says. "How hard can it be?" At the word hard, your gaze falls down on the obvious bulge between his thighs. Seeing his erection trapped in his jeans, the new shine in his dark eyes suddenly makes sense. "You got horny because of…-" you point back at the cabin. Surprise shows on your face as your brows draw up in shock. "So what?" He acts like an upset kid. "I'm just surprised you feel anything besides anger," you tell him. Everen just grimaces. "You are funny." His snarky comment makes you think of his request again. Or demand. "So?" He asks impatiently. "Are you coming?" "You mean, right now?" "What do you want me to do? Take you out to pick berries?" He waves at the forest surrounding you. How many times did you imagine shutting him up since your work for him? You can't even count it. "Fine," you grunt, standing up from your seat. The chair creaks at your sudden movement.

Anything to shut him up finally.

"So, what do you want me to do?" He asks when you lead him to the bedroom. It's a mess. His clothes are all over the place, poured out of his bags, and the blanket is halfway down on the ground. "Well," you grunt, looking around. "You could clean up." He stares at you. "You are really wild in bed." "Just shut up!" "Make me!"

Fine!

"Then take off your clothes," you tell him. "Will you do it too?" He asks, staring to unbutton his shirt. You feel glad when the flannel falls off his shoulders. It really did look horrible on him. "Do you want me?" You ask him. "Naked, I mean." "How will I eat your pussy otherwise?"

Maybe this is a good step. Both of you get over the awkwardness first, so you can move on and enjoy whatever happens next. And still. You feel nothing but impatience and excitement. Your gaze rakes over Everen's naked body. Over the line of his shoulders, the light muscles on his chest and abdomen, and the V line that leads you to his cock between his thighs. He is tall and lean. His posture is confident as he stands beside the bed, watching you. His eyes burn your skin as he looks over you. Your nipples harden into small peaks under his heavy stare. "Are you still angry because you had to come here?" He breaks the silence. The elf doesn't even try to hide the fact that he can't tear his eyes away from your breasts. "Just lay down."

When he does as you say, for once, you are ready to climb up on him when a question stops you. "How do you want me?" You eye his erection. "Do you want me to suck you?" A pained grunt escapes the back of his throat. His cock jerks under your gaze. "I take it as a yes," you grin, getting into position with his hands on your thighs. Everen's long fingers squeeze your flesh, urging you to hurry up. You hover just beyond his reach. His warm breath fans over your wet center. "What did you not understand?" He asks after a few seconds. "I said, sit!" And with that, he pushes you down on his face. You don't even have a chance to keep your balance under his tight hold.

Your moans mix in the quiet room as his tongue licks over your pussy. Everen nibs and sucks on you, exploring your aching wetness. His fingers dig into your thighs, pushing you down even more. "Everen!" You cry out his name in shock. His tongue slides through your pussy, lapping at your juices. His face is already soaked. His senses are filled with your taste and scent. He breathes you in, driving himself to delirium. Your thighs shake at the sides of his head. You try to keep your balance, rocking into him and grinding your pussy against his face. You aren't even sure if the elf under you can breathe, but at this point, you don't even care. Your chase your own pleasure, and the only thing that can keep you afloat is his cock not far from you. It twitches every now and again, and pre-cum runs down on his shaft and a bluish vein under the soft, pale skin. Licking your lips, you lean over his chest. Your nipples graze his upper body.

A dissatisfied grunt vibrates over your pussy, sending shivers up your spine when you lift yourself up from his face. "I didn't tell you to move," he grunts. A breathless grin spreads across your face. "Are you sure?" Your fingers curl around his cock, smoothing up and down on his length. "Fuck!" Everen growls, pulling your back onto his lips. His hips thrust up to fuck your fist. "If I had known I could shut you up like this, I would have done it sooner," you tell him, still grinning. Your words are airy, but the snarkiness still rings clearly. Everen says something you don't understand, and the next moment, a startled cry escapes your lips as your world spins with you in the middle. He finds your entrance. He laps at the juices flowing from your pussy before his tongue plunges into your hole. Your legs quiver at the new feeling. Your muscles twitch and flex as your boss pushes you higher and higher. Your hand around his cock is sloppy. You can barely focus on anything besides his tongue in you. Your walls flutter and pulse around him as he fucks you. Both of you are soaked with your wetness and his saliva. "I'm going to cum," you cry out when you feel the first spasms in your lower abdomen. It strikes through your body, sending stars behind your eyelids as you press yourself even more firmly against his face.

You cum, and he licks up everything you have to offer. And he doesn't stop even when you try to get up. "Oh, no," he growls with a deep laugh. The rumbles shake through your sensitive, throbbing cunt. "I'm not done with this pussy yet." He doesn't let you move. He doesn't let you escape. "Oh, fuck! Everen!" You are so busy with your own body you don't even notice your grip on his cock tightening until you feel him jerk and cum in your hand. His hips push up even more, and his moans and groans shake your body. His tongue strokes into you, licking deep. He devours you with a newfound elan, and you can do nothing but grind against him until you feel your orgasm approaching again. Your breathing gets ragged, mixing with cries and screams. Your over-sensitive pussy sends you over the edge within a few minutes.

When your mind clears a bit, you are already on the bed next to Everen. His hand shamelessly gropes your tits, and his hard cock nudges your thigh. His breath is warm on the curve of your neck. "Have any other ideas for the book?"

- Masterlist Ironridge Masterlist Patreon

[shawnxstyles]

personal

DATE: JULY 24, 2023

summary: you and harry are best friends who tell each other everything. or so you thought. when harry finds out you’ve barely done anything sexual, he offers to change that. and then things get a little… personal.

song: Glitch- taylor swift (this song seems fitting)

words: 6.5k

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [rubbing, fingering, nipple play, praise kink], mirror sex, cum tasting??, dirty talk), and language.

note: i literally wrote this in a few days i think. this idea is so basic, but who doesn’t love a cliché concept? PART 2

bestfriend!fratrry x inexperienced!reader (because i literally write no one else and fratrry is the love of my life)

—

Harry had a lot of friends. People that he grew up with and some that he met along the way that just stayed. But you were his number one overall, and he told you everything. You told him everything too.

Well, almost everything.

It never really caught his attention that you guys never talked about sex. You guys have been friends for 15 years, since you were five, so you’d think it would have been brought up at least once. But now that Harry thinks about it, he can’t think of one time you’ve talked about the act.

He didn’t think it would be like this. And he didn’t think you’d answer like that.

You and Harry were casually hanging out on a free school day, just like you always do. And then you start talking about this date you went on and how the guy was great. Harry was happy for you, he really was. All he wanted was to see his best friend happier than happy. However, being the best friend he was, he was nagging and joking with you.

“Think he’s the one, eh?” Harry jokes, nudging your shoulder playfully on your couch.

“Oh, stop it. Don’t get ahead of yourself,” You roll your eyes and cross your arms. Yeah, Mike seemed like a decent guy and maybe you could have a relationship for a short time, but he was nowhere near “the one.”

You weren’t too desperate for a relationship, you liked whatever came to you. This cute guy asked you on a date a week ago and you weren’t going to say no. Because what if he was the one? He wasn’t, but what if?

“Imagine it, Doll,” Harry started. He began calling you Doll when you two were just kids. You loved to collect dolls of all sorts, but you never dared to take them out of the box. Harry thought it was silly, but also cool. “picket white fence, beautiful lake house. Kids runnin’ ‘round—”

He saw your face cringe at the word kids. He tilted his head in confusion, arm moving to rest behind you on the couch. He scoots closer to you and waits for you to respond.

“No kids for me,” You awkwardly chuckle. It seemed almost sad the way you sounded.

“What? Thought you wanted to be a mum?”

“Not anymore,” You breathed out with an awkward smile, “need a husband to do that.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout getting a husband. Shouldn’t stop you from wanting ‘em,” Harry smiled sincerely at you and you nodded while looking down.

“Plus, you could always just go out on the street and ask some good-lookin’ lad to be the father of your kids!” You socked Harry hard in the shoulder. He lets out a hearty laugh because he always ruins a sweet moment with a stupid joke. That’s just how you like it though.

“I’m not a prostitute!”

“Never said tha’.”

“Can we just watch some TV? You’re annoying me,” You roll your eyes as you reach for the remote. Harry continues to laugh as you switch the television on.

When you’re indecisive, you toss the remote to Harry and he shuffles through the stations. He lands on a random one, also indecisive. You guys were too similar sometimes.

“Look on your phone for somethin’ and then I’ll find it. I’m done searching.”

“You looked for like two seconds!” You laughed at his laziness. He shrugs with a smile, leaning into the couch. Again, you roll your eyes playfully before doing a bit of research on your phone.

Suddenly, a moan echoes throughout your living room and your whole body stiffens up. Harry notices and tears his eyes away from the screen, which was portraying the sexy noises. You don’t look at him even though you can feel his eyes burning into you.

“Alright?” he asked out of concern, peering at your rigidness. He’s only ever seen you get like that when you were anxious or scared, but nothing happened. Maybe you saw something scary on your phone?

“Uh, yeah,” You squeaked as the TV moaned again. Your face cringes and you force yourself to keep your eyes on your phone.

“Y/N, seriously,” Harry stares between you and the screen when she noisily moans again. The woman was being eaten out by the man and was being overly loud. Her back was arching and her breasts were on display. The movie was inappropriate, 18+ for sure, but it was nothing you hadn’t seen before. Right? You were both 21 years old.

“This… just makes me a tad uncomfortable is all,” You answered honestly, voice quiet as your legs tightened together. Harry’s eyebrows pursed together.

“Uncomfortable? Why?” he couldn’t help the question that slipped out of his mouth. He was too curious to know why a little movie made you stiff yet fidgety.

Unless… you were feeling something different than uncomfortable.

“No,” You shook your head and attempted to push yourself off the couch. Harry didn’t hesitate to grab your wrist and pull you back. He didn’t want you to run away and for you to feel like you couldn’t tell him something.

“Just tell me.”

“No,” You stood your ground, way too embarrassed to say something. Way too embarrassed to admit that you’ve never had sex before. Way too embarrassed to admit you’ve never done anything more than rub your own clit. Once. And it didn’t even feel that good.

Your skin was fiery and… tingly. Harry was much closer to you than he previously was because he pulled you closer to him. Your bare thighs were touching, warm on warm with a sudden spark. You didn’t know you weren’t breathing until you inhaled deeply at Harry’s hooking stare.

“Doll, you tell me everything, but you can’t tell me why a little porn makes you uncomfortable? Because I know it’s tha’.”

“Ugh,” You groaned between clenched teeth. You threw your head back until it hit the top of the couch. Harry’s grip on your wrist never left you. He squeezed it reassuringly, letting you know that he supports you in whatever you’re going to say.

Are you really about to say it?

“Y/N, just—”

“No.”

“I thought we were best friends—”

“Do not pull that card!”

“But—”

“I’ve never had sex before, okay?” You shouted over Harry’s pleading voice and the echoing moans from the television. You’d think by the time you had a whole argument they’d be done having sex, but nope.

Harry was cut off, so his mouth was slacked open. Once he realizes his jaw is on the floor, he blinks a few times to really process what you’ve said. If you had told anyone else, they would have harshly judged you. Harry wasn’t necessarily too different, but he was your best friend, and he was going to try his hardest not too. Harry was just more shocked if anything. He had a handful of different bodies, enough to give him a good amount of experience. So when he finds out you’ve done nothing, he’s beyond surprised to his core.

“But you’ve had so many dates,” Harry looks over at your face, which was looking down at your lap. Your wrist was still trapped in his hand, but you were twiddling your thumbs like you were in trouble. He starts rubbing reassuring circles with his thumb over your knuckle. Your skin was so hot, and Harry’s theory of you being turned on continued in his mind.

Did you even know what that meant? You were naive, right?

“So? That doesn’t mean anything,” Your attitude was shining through. But deep down, you were more embarrassed than anything. This was just your coping mechanism. And of course, Harry knew that.

“Surely you’ve done something else,” Harry suggests. You pin him with a knowing look and a long blink.

“I haven’t,” You answered before even hearing his question. He clearly doesn’t care about your reply because he’s asking you a series of interrogation questions.

“Have you had someone eat you out—” Harry points to the screen, but it was on a commercial break now. You got the point, but Harry clearly didn’t.

“No,” You grumbled.

“What about fingering—”

“No.”

“A toy?”

“Where would I even buy that?”

“Or—”

“No, Harry. Nothing.”

“Not even rubbing?” he asks. You stay quiet, unsure if you want to admit the one-time experiment you did.

Why does it even matter? You tried it and you realized you don’t like it, so you never have to do it again right?

“Not… really,” You hesitated. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion while your skin burned at boiling temperature.

“Humping?”

“No—I tried to…” You couldn’t get the words out. Not ever you’d think. But especially not with Harry so close to you. His body was warm, not as warm as yours, but it was eliciting something inside of you that you couldn’t comprehend. The way he nonchalantly said so many dirty things made you dizzy.

“Tried to what?” Harry was thinking of so many things you could say. He wanted to finish your sentence, just like how he wanted to finish you until you were crying his name and soaking him. But he wanted to hear you say it. He’s never thought of you in such an explicit way, but with the words and tension floating in the air it was hard not to.

“…do it myself.”

“And how did that work out, Doll?”

“Um,” You didn’t expect him to ask. Your neck and cheeks light up in small flames. Where did this come from? “I…”

“What? I thought you could tell me anything?” When your eyes flickered up to his, they were a dark, swirling green you’ve never seen on his face before. Your heart skipped a dangerous beat, frightened with anticipation.

“I know, I can. But this… it’s different.”

“How so?”

“It’s personal—”

“Best friends are personal.”

“But not like this. Best friends don’t do this,” You tried to get up again, nearly ripping yourself away from his grip. But you were in too deep now. Harry wasn’t going to let this one slide. His mind was thinking about one thing and one thing only.

You.

He yanks you back and twirls you around, releasing your wrist in the process. He grabs you by the hips and pulls you down to his lap. You couldn’t contain the slight gasp you let out at the feeling of his strong legs beneath you. Your legs were on either side of him, tempting to squeeze shut. Every movement you made Harry would feel in this position.

“Best friends can say anything. They can do anything too,” Harry’s hands caress your thighs. They’re comforting and inviting, but are also sending a field of goosebumps along your skin warning you to flee. It’s hard to focus on anything but his touch and the vibration of his words through the air. “Now, tell me, did you rub yourself?”

“Yes,” You stutter, trying to stop your hips from squirming on his lap. He notices and grips one side of your body to steady you. It only makes you want to shift more. His touch was almost overwhelming, but you wanted more of it.

Was it wrong to want more of your best friend’s touch?

“Did it feel good?”

“No,” A part inside of you was a bit disappointed that it felt so bland. You thought masturbation was this great thing, and that’s why people did it so frequently. You heard it was also a stress-reliever, but for you, it was just a stress-inducer. Harry could tell by your tone that you weren’t lying.

“Well, you probably weren’t doing it right,” Harry replies and you look up at him with a slightly startled expression and a scoff. You didn’t expect his response to be so straightforward, like he was a doctor diagnosing you with some disease.

“How could I do it wrong? Don’t I just rub…?”

“Baby, it’s much more than that,” Harry said sincerely. He’s never called you baby before, but the nickname had your heart jumping. “Were you even wet?”

“What? I—probably? I don’t remember…”

“You would remember.”

“The experience wasn’t very memorable,” You grumble with an eye roll.

“Do you want me to show you?”

His question had your head spiraling. He wanted to what? There is no way. There is no way those words just left Harry, your best friend’s, mouth.

“W-what? That’s way too personal!” Your eyes were wide and your skin was burning. You were nearly dizzy with this whole conversation and your stomach was tight. You thought you might need to lie down for a while.

Maybe you were sick. Yeah, that’s it.

“Best friends are personal, Doll. Just let me show you, yeah? And then we never have to talk about it again. If y’don’t want. Please,” Harry’s charm was convincing you. Everything about him was luring you in, completely different than ever before. The way his eyes was dark and his touch was warm made you feel wanted and needed, which was contrary to your past dates. They didn’t look at you this way, nearly beg for you this way. They didn’t show you anything. They wanted you because they wanted to get their dick wet, but they hated the idea of a virgin.

And Harry’s familiar. He’s safe. You don’t have to be afraid when you’re with him. But then why are you so nervous?

Harry was willing to teach you how to do the one thing you’ve been curious about your whole life, and you’re going to pass up the opportunity, why? Because he’s your best friend?

Isn’t that supposed to make it better?

“Okay, fine,” You inhaled as your hands gripped onto his T-shirt on his shoulders. You had convinced yourself to let the words slip out. “Show me.”

You were agreeing almost as if this wasn’t a big deal for you. But to Harry, it was. He would take your firsts, and something about that filled him with pride. A smirk slowly rides up on his lips, “Now?”

A blush cascades through your body. Of course he didn’t mean right now!

“I-I thought you meant—”

“Shh, relax, Doll. I was just makin’ sure,” he smirks again, pulling you closer to him. He loved watching you get all squirmy and flustered more than he thought. You could feel his body heat more than ever now, and you’re surprised you lasted this long on his lap without dying. “I’m going to give you a few options, okay?”

With anxiousness, you nodded and swallowed.

“When we do this, you have to talk. So use your words, Y/N,” You knew he was being serious when he said your name, so you replied with yes and then he was giving you your options.

“So, I can lay you down right here on the couch and show you how to rub your little clit,” his explicit words were making your privates ache, but it wasn’t painful. It kind of felt… good? You felt a foreign liquid dampen your underwear, and you can only assume that’s the wetness Harry was talking about. “Or, you can do it yourself on m’thigh with my help. Which one sounds like something y’want to do?”

“The first one,” You answered, painfully desperate to squeeze your legs together to stop this ache. “But how will I see what you’re doing?”

Harry thought for a moment. You made a good point. How were you supposed to learn simply from feeling? Harry knew you were a bit of a visual learner, so he wanted to make sure you saw how to pleasure yourself correctly. And he knew the perfect way to do that.

“I actually have a third option. But s’not really a choice anymore,” Harry doesn’t say anything after, he just lifts himself and you off the couch without warning. You wrap your arms and legs around his body like a koala, making sure you don’t fall. His warmth encompasses you back and you wish you could just stay there forever.

Familiar. Safe.

When your head peers up from his shoulder, you’re in his bathroom. Your eyebrows pinch together, curious as to what his third choice was.

He sets you down on the floor until your feet are planted. You unwrap your arms from him, still confused.

“Do you trust me, Y/N?” Harry’s eyes were still dark, and you wondered if they would ever go back to the strong, emerald green they used to be.

“Yes, of course,” You didn’t hesitate to answer. There was no one that you trusted more than Harry that wasn’t in your bloodline.

“Okay,” Harry breathes, “Strip f’me. Keep your bra and underwear on.”

You nearly questioned him in shock. But then you remembered what the whole goal of this was. He was going to show you how and you were going to listen, right? So you did.

Carefully, you stripped yourself of your clothes. He’s seen you in bathing suits before, and some were revealing, so this can’t be as bad, right? Harry didn’t peel his eyes away although you wanted him to. He hasn’t seen you naked since you two were little kids, and even though you weren’t naked, it felt like you were with his burning gaze. Obviously, there were some changes too. Like height, hair, breasts, ass… the whole thing. Harry doesn’t say anything until you’re in your undergarments.

A swimsuit is definitely different.

“Good. Now, c’mere,” Harry sits down on the floor, a few feet away from his full-body mirror. His body was up against the bathtub wall to keep himself steady. You slowly lowered yourself to the floor, wondering what was going on through his head.

He pulls you between his legs until you’re pressed against his body. His warmth radiated through you far better with less clothes on and your body ached some more. Your legs closed to squeeze it away.

“Nuh uh,” he declines. Harry grips your thighs with his ringed fingers and yanks them apart. You gasp at the extreme vulnerability and the coolness that waves over your privates. He throws your legs over his and bends them slightly, making you unable to move at all. “Keep them open, yeah?”

You nodded, but that’s not what he told you to do.

“Words.”

“Yes. Keep them open.”

“Good girl. You’re learning,” Harry smiled and looked towards the mirror. His eyes instantly zoomed in on the growing wet patch on the front of your cotton panties, and he couldn’t help but smirk. He saw and felt your body squirming similarly like how you were on his lap. He’s had a rock-hard cock since this conversation started, so he’s not surprised if you can feel his hard-on poking your back through his shorts.

His hands rested on your knees as you watched him in the mirror. The entirety of it all was extremely erotic, like something that would be on TV.

“If you like something, tell me. If you hate something, tell me. It’s important that you do so, okay? It helps both of us learn.”

“Okay,” You were nearly shaking with anticipation. You were so nervous, but why? It’s just Harry. It’s just Harry. “I kind of like when you say I’m doing a good job. Makes me feel… nice.”

“Yeah?” Harry tried to conceal the smirk that threatened to rise on his lips. Of course his best friend, who happened to be the most innocent person in the world, had a praise kink. It just made too much sense. “Like when I call you a good girl?”

You sighed and nodded, but Harry didn’t say anything this time. He just kept going.

One of his hands rested on your knee, tracing delicate circles. He stayed in the same spot, for god knows how long, and you wondered when he would do something. He seemed to be in a trance. He was hyper-focusing on every centimeter with those circles, and although you were getting impatient, you felt cared for.

One of his hands snakes to your chest and rubs your nipple through your bra. Just when you were about to protest, his fingers moved a tad lower. The roughness of his pads tickled your skin just right and caused your thighs to squirm. It was entertaining for Harry to watch you get all squirrely from such a simple touch.

He’s going to have fun with you.

“It… tickles,” You observe as your eyes look down at his fingers, very gradually moving closer to that ache in between your legs. You felt like a kid exploring a new world for the first time; naive and curious.

“What does?”

“Your fingers,” You stare at him in the mirror almost as if he’s stupid. What else would tickle?

“Does this tickle?” Harry’s knuckle brushes the inside of your thighs, lower than he’s been. You inhale at the subtle sensitivity.

“Not much,” You answer, and his knuckle continues to sway leisurely. Your breath picks up, rising faster at his hand’s proximity.

“What about this?” His index finger traces the hem of your panties with purpose. You gasp when he gets deep in between your legs, outlining your cunt with ease. Your legs attempt to shut with a shake, shying away from the vulnerability, but it’s impossible with his strong legs prying you open.

“A-a little.”

“And this?”

As if his touch could be anymore teasing, he finally dances along your clothed cunt, tracing your lips with curiosity of how you’d react. A mix of a sigh and a moan wavers out of you unintentionally, hips pushing closer towards his finger. Your mind blanks, light and fuzzy. Your face immediately falls to gaze at his movements, attracted to the air-headed feeling.

“Eyes on the mirror,” Harry demands while delicately caressing you. It was ironic, really. His voice was so rough and stoic while his touch was ever so gentle. With a few blinks, you're focusing in on the mirror, obeying his command. “How does this feel? Does it tickle?”

“Good, and yes,” You swallow your moan as his finger keeps petting you lightly. You were almost getting used to it, but you wanted more. “Is this what I was supposed to do?”

“Sort of. This is called foreplay. Heard of tha’?”

“I think so?” You were breathless.

“S’basically where I get you all wet and ready f’me. You like that?”

“L-love and hate relationship right now,” You pant as his finger rises away from your weeping, covered hole and travels up to your clit. You choke out a gasp as he strokes it nonchalantly.

“Oh,” Your hand drops to his thigh, gripping it strongly as your body begins to tingle. You strain your neck to keep your eyes on the mirror ahead of you, trying to watch how he does it.

His familiar smirk never fades from his face, cheeks a tad rosy from the heat waving between you two. His wrist is probably sore from the tedious, repeated movements he does. His thick fingers delicately circle your covered clit, applying generous pressure until you’re panting.

“More. I think I need more,” You suggest when his pace stays a consistent speed. You needed to feel his fingers on your bare skin. If he was going to touch you, you wanted him to just do it already.

“Y’think?” Harry’s tone was taunting yet serious. He wanted you to be firm with what you wanted. He didn’t want you to second-guess your own pleasure. If you needed more, you needed to tell him that. The best way for that to happen was for him to train you. “Beg for it.”

As your head becomes floaty with the stimulation, you don’t even hesitate to throw out pleads.

“Please, Harry. I-I need it, need more,” Your head slowly falls back onto his shoulder before his touch is gone. “Wha—”

Harry couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to see you. All of you. He needed to see what he did to you, and if you were really as desperate as you seemed. As shocking as this all may be to you, it was just as shocking to Harry. He couldn’t believe he was this turned on from his best friend’s inexperience. He’s always liked when a girl knew what she was doing and knew how to reciprocate. But something about Harry teaching you and showing you the ropes just fills him with a kind of power and pride that he can’t get from anywhere else. And he’s feasting off of it.

“M’gonna take these off, alright?”

“Everything? O-okay,” He unclipped your bra as you slowly slid down your panties. The tile beneath you was colder than before, but Harry’s warm body behind you kept you comforted.

“Have you heard of the traffic light system?” he asks, hands resting gently on your bare shoulders. He gets straight into the safety part first. It also distracts him from ogling your naked figure against him. He could feel his cock twitch in his briefs at your fluttering pussy and peaked nipples.

“I assume you don’t mean the ones used for driving?” You both chuckle and break some of the swollen tension in the room. It was a nice little reminder that it’s just Harry.

“No, Doll. The one for safety and consent,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, no, I’ve never heard of it.”

“If you say red, I’ll stop instantly and ask what made y’red. Communication is key. If y’say yellow, I’ll slow down and ask you again. And then we can either continue or stop, whatever y’want. But if your color is green, I’ll keep going. Understand, love?”

There was a lot of information, but you were able to keep up. It was actually similar to the traffic light system, which makes the name very fitting. You reply with a firm yes to note that you understand.

All while he was talking and explaining everything, you were getting used to looking at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t always confident in your body, but staring at it in between Harry’s made you feel safe and sexy somehow.

Before your mind can wander too far, Harry’s hands are falling down until they’re at your nipples. His rough fingers lightly pinch the already-hard buds until you’re pushing up into his touch. The warmth and the nakedness made you overly flushed all over. He gropes your breasts with care, slyly sliding another hand down lower.

Throughout this entire process, you’ve been soaking; in your underwear, in your shorts, and now on his bathroom tile. Your lower body has been throbbing in desire to be aided, and Harry seems to know just what you need.

His fingers hover right above your mound that’s screaming for him to go lower. Your heart rams against your chest in anticipation of his bare hands on your bare body, on your most sacred and vulnerable parts. No one has ever touched you beside yourself. A small part inside of you was glad that the first person was Harry because you knew you wouldn’t regret it.

Right?

“Stop thinking s’much,” he says, rubbing a warm palm over your belly. His face moves your head, so his lips can kiss your temple reassuringly. You slightly arch your back, so maybe he could see how desperate you are. Your legs were still spread by his, so you know he can see your wetness. If you can see it, so can he. “Just let me show you how it’s done.”

“Okay, Mr. Cocky,” You roll your eyes as he shifts your hair behind your ear, “What if I don’t even like it?”

“The name is very fitting. But that’s for a different day,” he says with a cocky smirk on his face. Now that sounds like something Harry would say. But your entire face gets warm and your head gets a little fuzzy when you actually imagine it. “and you will. Trust me.”

You take a deep breath. You weren’t sure how far you guys were going to go, but you’ve never felt more ready and more safe. With the system Harry told you about and all his reassurance, it was clear that even if he was teaching you, you were the one that had all the control.

“Now watch me.”

With those words his hand turns into just one finger and resumes on your clit. You gasp into the air as your body jolts. The roughness of his thumb paints your arousal over and over on your skin.

“This little thing is important. Don’t neglect it.”

His rhythm is slow and tedious as he circles the nub. You see and feel him dip down to collect some more of your wetness as he continues stroking you.

“How’s this? Color?” he gruffs in your ear while staring at you darkly in the mirror. You could barely understand him because you were panting embarrassingly and trying your hardest to focus on the reflecting glass in front of you.

“Good! Wait—green,” You corrected yourself as a moan elicited from you, his touch feeling even better each second.

“Good girl.”

“Fuck,” You feel yourself clench around nothing but your own wetness at his words. You both watch as the liquid quenches out of your dripping hole, making Harry groan from behind you.

“Do y’think you can handle one finger? Hm?” his voice rolls perfectly into your ear as he twists your peaked nipple. You couldn’t control your moans at the pleasure. His voice sounded just as good as the feeling of his hands.

“Yes, yes. Harry, please,” You nearly cried from how bad you needed it. You didn’t even know you needed it this bad. You thought you were going to hate this feeling, but you’re far from it.

“So submissive, so responsive,” Harry’s middle finger pushes against your hole, teasing the opening. You hold your breath as he makes you wait. “Breathe, Doll. Relax.”

Your eyes close for a moment. You breathe deep and feel your limbs lose their sudden tenseness. Before you can open them again, Harry’s finger is slotting inside of you easily. A gasp falls from your mouth as your hand grips on his meaty thigh for support.

“O-oh.” The feeling was insane. Intense. Nearly overwhelming. You clenched around his digit, consuming and caging it like it would fade away.

You’re so tight around him, he swears his finger might fall off. Harry’s cock is pulsing and pleading behind your back, but you don’t seem to notice. He’s making sure he doesn’t rut into you, but it’s so difficult when you’re all spread out and submissive for him.

He’s never thought of you like this, but fuck, now he can’t think of you any other way.

“Color, Doll?” Harry grumbles in your ear, voice low and breathy as it fans over your skin warmly.

“Green. What’s more than green? B-blue? Just–don’t stop–God,” Your squeaky voice rambled as his finger pumped in and out slowly. You can hear his smile behind your screwed eyes. The pad of his thumb rubbed delicate circles over your throbbing clit to escalate the pleasure.

Your chest was beating fast when your legs started to shake. Your hips bucked closer to his hands, needing more as you chase the glorious feeling.

“Look at you, takin’ me so well,” Harry praises, subtly curling his finger as your back arches. You know that one finger isn’t a lot, barely anything, but you were melting at the praise that Harry gave you. His constant encouragement is what made you putty in his hands. Literally.

“Harry,” You moaned into the heated air, causing Harry to groan desperately behind you. And you’re not too stupid to deflect that Harry might be turned on from the scene unfolding. If you knew more, if you knew better, you would have offered to help him after. But you were inexperienced, and you assumed he wouldn’t want someone to give him head who could possibly bite his dick off.

“Are you close, baby? Hm? Gonna come for the first time on my hand?”

“Y-yes! Please,” You begged as you climbed your high, wondering what the top would feel like if the chase was this blissful.

Your head falls restlessly on his shoulder while his right hand keeps focusing on your cunt. It was covered in your arousal as his pace picked up. The stimulation was almost too much, your body wanted to push away. But your mind was pleading to feel a release you know your body needed.

“Is it gonna h-hurt?” You groaned as your cunt clenched around him again, stomach tensing. A strong rush you assumed could only be an orgasm was approaching you all too fast.

“No, Doll. It’s gonna feel real good,” He twisted your nipple again, pushing you over the edge. You felt his thumb and index pinch your clit, causing you to scream his name against his chest. “Look in the mirror. Watch yourself fall apart f’me. Watch and make sure this time is memorable.”

You always thought Harry had a way with words. You never thought that about dirty talking though. His hands were as skillful as can be, and maybe one day you’ll be able to make yourself feel as good as he made you feel. But his words are something that you’ll never be able to treat yourself with. You don’t think you’ll ever meet another person whose voice is as fitting as Harry’s.

With his demanding tone, you came right over the edge. An overwhelming ripple of pleasure ceased through your body, shaking your legs to the max. Soundless moans and clawing nails were all you were capable of as you came on his large hand. Although you were straining, you never took your eyes off of the mirror. He told you to look at yourself as you came, but you were only staring at the glaring green eyes reflecting back at you. He rubbed all of your orgasm until you were trembling from overstimulation.

Just when you thought he was done, he raised his ringed hand to his mouth and tasted you. You thought that was something that they only did porn or movies. You swallowed intensely as his hum vibrated through you.

“Do you always… taste it?”

“If I think it’ll taste good,” he smirked as you scooted forward to grab your shirt. As you throw it over your head, you just had to ask.

“Did mine taste any good?” You slightly cringed as you asked the question. Does cum usually taste good? What does it even taste like?

His smirk widens, a hint of evilness rising, “do you want to find out?”

Your skin flushes even against the chilling tile. Your heart skips a beat at trying yourself. You hadn’t ever thought of it before. But you’ve come (literally) this far tonight, so why not just take it a little further?

“O-okay,” You slowly lift up your shirt, revealing your fucked-out cunt to him again. “So I just…?”

“May I?” he suggests.

“Yes.”

Two of Harry’s fingers swipe over your cunt, which was still covered in a mix of your arousal and cum. You jolted from the stimulation, tensing quickly before his touch was gone.

“Open,” and without thinking, you do. Your mouth falls open as his fingers lay flat on your tongue. Salty and creamy, it spreads over your tastebuds. You hummed around his fingers just like he did because it tasted good. Yeah, it was a bit odd, but once you got past that, you realized how erotic and sexy it was. “How’s it taste?”

After a bit of suckling on his digits, he puts them out way too soon for your liking. “Good, actually.” You creak from your dry throat.

“I think so too. Let’s clean you up real quick.”

Still sitting on the floor, a warm, wet towel soothes your sensitiveness as he wipes away all of your liquids. A smile broke out on his face when he finished before his hand landed on top of your head. He shook your hair like crazy until it was already wilder than it was. The action was childlike and friendly, almost as if everything between you guys never happened and you were back to square one. It was better that way, though. Right? To just go back to how everything used to be?

Harry grabs the small hand towel and exits his bathroom. You assume he went to discard it and add it to his laundry, but you just sat there in oblivion. You already missed his touch, longing for something you should’ve never even had in the first place. He was the one that offered himself to teach you, but now you’ve been taught, so where do you guys go now? Are you really supposed to just go back to the way it was?

He saw you in ways that no one else has before. You always thought that you would be intimate and have your groups of firsts with someone that you were dating, someone that you loved. Because of this, you realized that Harry was the safe option. Doing this with Harry changed your views on everything, and your body, heart, and mind couldn’t keep up with the rapid reversal.

You knew that Harry had a few notches in his belt. But were they all from relationships or just one-night stands? You didn’t know because you two rarely ever discussed the topic. Was it easy for Harry to go from girl to girl? Or did he get attached like you?

If there was one thing you always feared from sex and sexual doings, it was the intense attachment. You had heard about the infamous addiction intimacy laces within your veins that makes you crave a person. Now that you’ve been with Harry, that won’t happen to you, right?

You’ve known Harry forever, yet you’ve never craved him. He’s your best friend, and you’ve never seen him as more than that. If it was anyone else, you’d probably lose all control because you have no significant relationship with them. It would be easy to latch onto anybody because it would be easy to lose them too. Harry, on the other hand, was not easy to lose.

The last thing you want is to convince yourself of anything. You don’t want to “crave” Harry just because you saw something about an article online about “sexual chemicals fusing.” You couldn’t. No, it was too risky.

You’ve known Harry forever, so you couldn’t lose him forever too.

“I think I found a good movie to watch!” Harry’s voice echoes from his living room and all the way into the bathroom where you haven’t moved a muscle. Your overthinking was louder than it’s ever been. With a shaky breath, you rise from the tiles and stare at your disheveled appearance in the mirror. The same mirror you watched Harry finger fuck you with.

“Be out there in a second!” You shout back as your heart beats rapidly from his heartwarming voice laughing loudly at something. You clutched your chest, wondering why the fuck you were feeling the organ lurch for him in a way that wasn’t meant for him.

You knew that it was way too fucking personal.

—

thanks for reading angels 😙 part 2

taglist: @crybabyddl @tiaamberxx @alwaysclassyeagle @bisexual-desi @littlenatilda @raajali3

[lowkeyrobin]

TREVOR SPENGLER ; you make loving fun

summary ; you, Trevor's first proper non-toxic partner shows him true love, and how great it really is when you find your person

warnings ; language, mentions of making out, talk about toxic people/exes, verbal abuse, and emotional neglect

disclaimers ; Trevor is described as bisexual, reader is a garbage fan (green flag)

word count ; 1k

I'm working on reqs rn dw guys 🙏

masterlist

Trevor knew that the second he'd met you, he'd fallen head over heels.

The only thing he was worried about, after being reassured by both his mom and Pheobe, was how you'd treat him. His last ex was terrible to him, and by that point, he felt like he was an abuse magnet.

Thankfully, nothing was ever physical, he thanked whoever or whatever was looking over him for that, even fate itself.

Talking about past exes, his last ex-boyfriend first, he'd essentially treat him like shit and try to hide their relationship. He'd use him for pleasure and attention and then ignore him and act like he didn't know him. Trevor was always there for him, but he was never once available for Trevor. That shit ended quickly thanks to his mom convincing him to end things, plus moving away again made it easy.

His ex-girlfriend was slightly the same way.

For context, Trevor was never popular, but he wasn't ignored or bullied in school either. He was attractive enough to be boasted about, I guess, but he wasn't gathering hoards of girls to swoon over him either.

She used him as popularity points, as she was one of the half-popular girls who wanted brownie points for dating someone on a lower social level than herself. Trevor never saw it and had to deal with the consequences. The fighting, the way she'd scream and yell and argue with him over the simplest things. She treated him like a charity case.

So, he was fairly afraid to hurt himself again. He wanted to pursue you, he did. He was just fucking scared.

But, with enough pressure and reassurance from Pheobe, his mom, and new friend Lucky, he gathered the courage to ask you out. During that process, he rambled about how smitten he was for you and had to genuinely stop himself as he realized he'd never felt like this for anyone before. You weren't someone he just wanted to occasionally hold hands with and kiss. He wanted a genuine, healthy relationship with you. He wanted to be treated right, just this once.

But you, knowing about his past relationships, knew what he needed. And you were dedicated to showing him what actual loved looked like, what a real relationship felt like.

From dates at the roller-rink, to movie nights inside, you showed him that you could love him like how he needed to be loved. He needed to be shown that what he went through before wasn't normal and that you would never think to hurt him like people in his past did.

You made loving fun for him, he'd never smiled and had so much fun with someone, ever.

He loved making out with you in his new bedroom at the firehouse, and your soft kisses of reassurance when he was upset or stressed. He'd always find his stomach and lungs genuinely in pain from how much he laughed with you. He was infatuated with you, with holding your hand and caressing said hand with his thumb, with wrapping his arms around you to just hold you like that in silence.

His photos app is filled with pictures of you, over 500 through the past year. His lockscreen? A picture of you two at the county fair under dark blue neon lights.

He watches you sitting in the window, your body barely fitting onto the ledge. Thank God for bay windows, but christ, the people who made this building over 120 years ago needed some better architectural design here. What was the bay window for if not to sit in it?

He'd only woken up a bit ago, having been in the shower as you entered his room, awaiting his arrival. His family thankfully loved you, and would let you in no matter what.

"You look nice today," He comments, running a hand through his hair.

You turn to face him, raising an eyebrow. "Do I not usually look nice?"

"No, no, I mean, yeah! You always look nice!" He quickly sputters, "I-I like your shirt. Garbage, they're cool"

You lightly smile, reassured in his loyalty and kind-heartedness by his answer. "You're fine, Trev, I'm playing" You chuckle, "You've never even listened to Garbage"

You pull the sleeves of your undershirt down, feeling a cool wave hit your body like the wave of water at the beach. Your baggy jeans cover you perfectly as the sun peaks out from the clouds.

"You don't know that!" He exclaims, crossing his arms, "All your Spotify playlists are public, I can listen to whatever you are with a couple clicks"

"Okay, bud" You throw your hands up in a sarcastic annoyance. "Whatever you say, pal. I guess we gotta break u-" You quickly stop yourself, looking up at Trevor with slightly widened eyes. "Holy shit, I'm so sorry"

You quickly hop off the ledge of the window, your hands clenched into fists as you stand in front of him awkwardly, awaiting his reaction.

"I'm so sorry, that was uncalled for, I didn't mean to say that-"

"It's fine, Y/n/n" Trevor looks at you with a confused yet laid back expression. "Why are you apologizing?" He catches himself, finding the answer on his own, "Oh, well... it's not that big of a deal, it's okay" He shrugs, "It's fine"

"Sorry, uhm-"

Trevor quickly wraps you in a hug, resting his arms over your shoulders. "I love you, okay? I've never loved anyone so fun and amazing to me, joking about shit is fine"

You nod into his shoulder, "Sorry"

"It's okay" He chuckles, rubbing a hand over your back. "You're fine, it's alright"

"You're the fun one, by the way" You mumble.

"Hm?"

"You're the one who makes loving fun, Trev"

He silently smiles, his face flushing as he holds you a little tighter.

[themultifanshipper]

Here's a lil blurb based on this post

Warnings: ferrari!reader, disgusting levels of fluff, then a bit of oral because I couldn't help myself, very cringe, Fred is a 3rd wheel lmao

You and Charles were coming up on your three year anniversary.

You'd known him for a while, having met him when he moved to ferrari, the team for which you worked, and he was currently in the process of winning his 3rd world championship following Max's retirement.

It was bliss.

One day you'd been having a drink with Fred and Charles during the summer break, Fred had been passing through Monaco and he'd decided stopped by.

He reminisced about how much Charles had changed since the Sauber rookie he'd worked with all those years ago.

“You know, back in those days Charles was known to randomly stick his head into office doorways and say "it is I, Leclerc" and walk away laughing like a maniac...”

Fred and Charles laughed together at the memory but your jaw was on the floor.

Charles mistook the look on your face as bewilderment so he started clarifying.

“It is a reference from a show, a character named Leclerc who always-”

“I know what it's from!” You cut him off, “I'm shocked at the fact that you've even heard of ‘Allo ‘Allo at all… I've never met anyone who knows about it! Much less a French pers- sorry a Monegasque person!” you looked at him guiltily before continuing “ I was basically raised on that show… wait, we've know each other for 10 years now and been fucking married for 3 of them, how the hell have we never talked about this??”

He giggled into his champagne while Fred looked on, amused by your ranting.

“I don't know, mon amour. But if you are this worked up about it we should probably watch it together at some point”

Your eyes softened as you looked at him, melting at his rosy cheeks and bright smile.

“I'd love to, baby. That's the best idea you've ever had”

You leaned in to kiss him tenderly but he leaned back in avoidance.

“Even better than when I got the idea of marrying you?” he teased, lips staying only centimeters from yours.

You huffed, breaths smelling of champagne mingling between you.

“Okay, second best idea” you giggled and he let you finally kiss him.

Your arms went to his face as you nipped at his lip playfully, completely ignoring Fred who was sitting a meter away and trying his best to pretend you and Charles weren't there.

He sipped on his own champagne and looked over the deck at the sunset just coming over the horizon.

“Yeah” he thought to himself “These two idiots are made for each other”

**

It was a few days later and you'd completely forgotten about it, courtesy of the amount of bottles of champagne the three of you had gotten through.

You were in bed, reading your last chapter before going to sleep when Charles popped his head in the door.

“ It is I, Leclerc ” he purred smoothly.

You gasped and dropped the book as you grinned at him.

“You sure are! But you're definitely my favourite Leclerc” you slid your book onto the bedside table and patted the spot next to you.

He stalked over to you.

“Oh yeah, I'm your favourite?” he purred from the foot of the bed, leaning over it and starting to pull the covers away from your body, uncovering your bare legs.

“Well you are also my favourite Leclerc, mon coeur” he said seductively as he crawled up the bed.

“Oh shit” you gasped “I am a Leclerc”

You giggled as his hands slid up your calves to rest on your thighs, just below the hem of your oversize shirt.

“You had forgotten? This is not good… I guess I need to remind you then.” His dark eyes stayed on yours as he lay his head on one of your knees.

“Spread you legs for me and let me show you how much of a Leclerc you are…”

You blushed and a hand went to his cheek, thumb stroking it as his hands went to slide up your thighs and move your shirt upwards.

He did so and gasped, revealing your bare skin as he realised you weren't wearing anything other than the shirt.

“No underwear? Naughty girl…”

His lips trailed up the inside your thigh until he got to the sensitive skin just above where your folds were quickly dampening with need.

He slid his tongue down, over your clit, through your lips and groaned.

“God, you drive me just as crazy as the day I married you…”

And with that he dove in, using his expert tongue to bring you to the edge over and over again until you were shaking, using his intricate knowledge of your body to his advantage.

A few weeks later, when the season resumed, he was in his driver’s room getting ready for the race, putting his fireproofs on and absent mindedly humming the theme tune to ‘Allo ‘Allo.

You walked past and heard it, recognising it instantly, and it gave you an idea.

You popped your head through the door.

“It is I, Leclerc!” you said and he laughed, glancing at your frame coming through the door.

“You ready to get another win?” you hooked your arms up around his neck and he picked you up, sitting down on the sofa and settling you on his lap.

“Much better now that Madame Leclerc is here” he whispered into your ear and kissed you on the cheek “Although, I am a bit restless. I always have some energy to spare for my wife”

You both knew where this was going.

You slid onto the carpeted floor between his spread legs as Charles threw his head back with a gasp.

You'd seemingly managed to pavlov your husband into getting turned on by the use of your shared last name.

My god this couldn't end well…

[alia-schlatt]

Hard Launch || JSchlatt

♡ Summery ♡

In which your husband hard launches your relationship on your wedding day

♡ Warning ♡

SFW, Second person POV, No Y/N used

♡ Word Count ♡

Total words: 822

♡ Authors Note ♡

I don't even know where this idea came from but I hope you enjoy!!!

[Story Under Cut]

You were always a private person. You worked a remote job and barely ever went out. But one night three years ago, you had, and you just so happened to meet the love of your life.

Schlatt was everything you had ever wanted, but he was also a famous content creator. Which meant your private life wouldn't be private for long.

But when your six month anniversary came around and schlatt asked if you would like him to make a post with photos of the two of you, like you had done many times on your private Instagram account, that only your close friends followed.

You told him how you felt about being put online. You told him how you had a friend years ago who went viral and just how much it had taken a toll on her, not only mentally but physically. You told him how you didn't want to be put under a microscope by millions of people because of a relationship that was still new.

So he came up with a solution that just so happened to work well. He would pretend he was single online until your relationship was at such a point that it couldn't be kept secret anymore. And you had never been more grateful.

The fact he wanted to show you off warmed your heart, but you had never wanted to be famous.

This is why it shocked his fans all over the world when he made of the hardest launches on the internet. The fans were confused when his friends started posting Instagram stories of a wedding no one online was aware of.

Scenery and Decor, and pictures with  other guests filled Instagram stories. And the fan bases started going crazy. Until you were sitting together after your photoshoots and just sinking in the fact that you two were officially married.

He was your husband, and you were his wife.

"I know how you feel about being online, but I think I should let the fans know," He said, kissing your forehead.

"I agree." You had said before, changing into your reception dress. A baby doll design with a short puffy skirt and white vans, different from the lacy princess dress you had worn for the ceremony.

When you stood up after putting on your vans, he stared at you while lying on the bed. "You're so fucken beautiful. I'm so lucky to have met you."

You scoff pulling him off the bed, "If I hadn't met you, I'd probably still be single and watching Disney movies while sharing food with Micky," you say, referencing your manecoon.

He kisses you before you go meet the rest of the wedding party and prepare for the reception entrance. You look at Ted and your best friend, Sawyer, making jokes with each other. Best man and maid of honor, the next in line for marriage in your friend group.

It isn't until halfway through the reception that Sawyer pulls out her phone and shows you Schlatts' post.

It's a picture of you two in the hallway kissing in your wedding attire. He must've had one of the photographers send it to him prematurely. After you had told him not to bother him. You laughed to yourself before reading the caption.

"Three years ago on a night out, I met the love of my life. The strongest, funniest, and most intelligent person I've ever met. The person who can make a bad day good, with just her smile. The woman I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with. The woman I can't wait to have a family with. And the woman I can't wait to grow old with.

My love, you have made me the luckiest person in the entire world by letting me experience your love. I never knew love could be this refreshing. You're the oxygen I need to survive. The shot of Expresso I can't function without. I can't wait to prove to you day in and day out, just how much you mean to me.

I'm so lucky to call you my wife.

I love you, forever and always,"

You feel tears threaten to reapear in your eyes. You smile as you look up onto the dance floor, seeing him and Ted dancing while Ted holds a phone recording them. You laugh looking at your best friend.

"You chose a good one, I'm happy for you," your best friend says.

"How's about we go join our boys on the dance floor?" You ask, and she agrees. Getting up to walk towards the dance floor.

When you reach it, Schlatt immediately takes your hand, pulling you towards him. "Hey Mrs Schlatt," He jokes, and you smile, giving him a kiss on his cheek.

"What was that for?" He questions.

"I'm your wife, I can kiss you whenever I want now," you joke, and he smiles.

"Damn right, you can, Toots," He says before kissing you again.

[moneypriestess]

OK, se we all know ghostspeak, right? It's a language for ghosts that comes from the ghost zone, and basically only halfas and ghosts can speak it on earth, but what if it's a forgotten language on earth?

----

It existed thousands of years ago, but slowly died off until no one remembered it.....until Tim went snooping in the house of mystery and came across an ancient book written in a language he didn't recognise.

After asking cough cough blackmailing cough John for the book Tim took it home and somehow forgotten about it, for about a week.

Now, during the week the book had been sitting in his room, Tim had gotten into an argument with Bruce, then with Alfred over his sleep, or lack thereof, and forced into decaf coffee for the rest of the month. So he was pretty frustrated, annoyed, and looking for revenge.

When Tim saw the book sitting on his desk innocently, he had a brilliant idea, a magnificent wonderful show stopping idea that would get his sweet sweet revenge.

Now, remember that Tim's brain is running on decaf coffee, no sleep, and no dopamine, it would not be too far fetched for him to think that because Alfred is obviously immortal he would know this ancient language, so Tim could learn this ancient language and insult his cooking in his (maybe) mother tongue! Obviously, it's a low blow, but revenge changes a person.

Tim spent the next month studying that book, staying locked in his room like the 'good grounded boy' he was. Obviously, Bruce knew something was up, but it didn't seem like Tim was up to a mastermindfull plan that might destroy or recreate gothams crime ring, so he let mumbling studying boy be.

Tim finally shut the book with a released sigh and sat up, cracking his back of the kinks and smirking at the victory he could already practically taste on his tongue. Today was the day. He was fairly confident that he had successfully broken through the language barrier and fluently learnt the once forgotten language.

Tim swaggered (yes, I said that, don't kill me) into the dining room and took a seat next to danny, his newest kindest and most naive brother, before looking towards everyone gathered today. It was the anniversary of Danny's first adoption, and everyone was here to celebrate it, even Jason of all people, though he could understand why. Since the two met, they had a seemingly special bond, and everyone knew Jason was Danny's favroute. No matter how hard dick tried to be.

Waiting until the food had come out and danny had successfully poked and prodded his plate to his liking, a weird ritual he did "to make sure it won't attack him" danny had said the first time anyone asked, everyone began eating. Tim hid a tiny smirk behind his bowed head as he finally said the words he had been waiting for all month.

"Looks like you're losing your touch, Alfred"

A second passed, no one says anything and Tim has just a smidgen of regret, did he say it right? Did he mispronounce something and make a fool of himself?

"Sniffle"

Tim's head shoots up to Alfred's, he only wanted to shock him and insult him a little bit! He didn't want him to start crying.

Yet Alfred's eyes were dry, and instead of looking at Tim, heck, no one was looking at Tim. They were all looking to the side of Tim, where danny sa-

Oh no, danny.

Tim swivelled his head and let his jaw open in shock as he sees danny full on breaking down, tears and snot covering his face that he desperately tries to wipe away as Jason kneeled beside him and tried to comfort him, the same static noises that Tim had made just before coming from his mouth.

Yet these were different, more confident in the tone and more soft and comforting than whatever Tim had said.

"Not-kill-dare-day-dann-calm-"

Tim could barely recognise the words coming from Jason's mouth and paled as he realised what that meant. It meant that he should have spent longer learning from the book, it meant he shouldn't have tried this in front of the entire family, it meant he had said something completely different than what he meant to say, the only question now is.

'What the fuck did I say?'

[chuubian]

Midnight pearl

Tags Pirate Chuuya x gn mermaid reader, mermaid courting ritual, Chuuya is perpetually confused, hunting, trafficking (just talking about it not actually doing it), dehumanizing language, reader is kinda feminized? like there's a bunch of pearls and traditionally feminine things they wear and own, the flags are happy and alive

Summary While swimming peacefully in the ocean, you're suddenly caught in a big net. Pulled out of your reverie, you're hauled onto a big ship and stuffed into a tank that can barely fit you. The captain of this uncivilized group of pirates is Chuuya. He had first planned to sell you, but over time his heart softened until one day he realizes he's fallen for you.

A/N this is the last part of this mini series. if im ever inspired to add onto it i might but for the most part this is where the plot ends :)

Part 1 Part 2

An overwhelming warmth was surrounding your body. It was like being stuck in quicksand. Quicksand that  was super cozy and… hairy..? When your eyes finally snapped open you were met with a mountain of copper-toned hair, covering Chuuya's face who is, of course, snoring loudly. His head is resting on your chest, leaning into the comforting heat radiating from your skin. Your heart jumps into your throat. Breathing is a laboured effort- all the air has been stolen from your lungs at the sight of him.

Shifting, you look around the room, trying to free his arms from around your waist but his grip is too strong, so you resign to your fate. The room is luxurious, filled with intricate woodwork, white silk drapes around the windows, and expensive jewelry hung up on display. To others, the bed would probably be the most eye catching thing in the room- with its beautiful burgundy canopy and fluffy, no doubt expensive, snow white covers. It screams ‘I'm rich!’ But the thing that drew your eyes was not the extravagant decorations. It was Chuuya.

It's like he can feel your eyes on him, because when your eyes glance over him- taking in his soft pink lips, the slight flush high on his cheekbones, the little bit of drool dripping down his chin- he wakes up. His eyes meet yours. They're such a deep blue. They remind you of the sea. Of the dark abyss that used to be your home. It's comforting in a way. He definitely wasn't the best person, but he held you so sweetly just a few hours ago. Maybe at the bottom of his heart he was a good person. He just did what he had to, to survive.

“Hey.”

If you couldn't tell Chuuya had just woken up from the creases on his face and his disheveled appearance, his low raspy voice would give it away. Still half-asleep, he pulls you closer, unconsciously leaning into the warmth, chest pressed against yours. Suddenly, a realization comes over him, face reddening, he scoots away, attempting to separate the two of you despite the thin sheen of sweat gluing your skin together. Eventually, he manages to free himself, settling on the other side of the bed.

“Sorry… I was just cold.”

“Really? You look sweaty.”

He scowls, turning even more red.

“No I don't!”

He mumbles to himself for a few seconds, chewing on his nails, eyebrows furrowed deep in thought. It made you smile to see him so thrown off balance, especially when he's usually in control of every situation.

"Whatever, It's almost dinner time we need to go eat."

Chuuya threw the covers off himself and climbed off the bed. He walked over to your side of the bed, floors creaking painfully.

"Do you want your tank or are you okay sitting with us?"

The question made you stop. Staying in the container would mean being in water, but it would also mean being isolated. Again. you had grown used to being around Chuuya. It was a bit fast- yet something drew you to him. He was the kind of person that's utterly captivating. Where one meeting with him, by chance, would keep you thinking about him ten years later. On the other hand, you've been on solid land for almost the entire day. You were starting to miss the moisture on your skin and the full feeling in your lungs from familiar ocean water.

Chuuya’s eyebrows furrow, noticing how serious you've gotten. He puts a hand on your shoulder, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Hey, you okay?"

Nodding, you glance up into his blue eyes. it's easy to make your decision when he looks at you like that.

"I'll eat with you."

His lips quirk up into a pleased grin.

"Good, I was hoping you'd say that."

He reaches down to rip the toasty covers off you, exposing you to the horrible freezing environment. Whining, you lean into his touch. It's a welcome respite from the world outside.

"It's so cold."

He chuckles, low and deep. The vibrations reverberate through your chest, making your heart beat faster.

“I know, I know. Let's go.”

His strong arms slip under your back and tail, picking you up bridal style. It's a wonder how a man so short and small is so well built. The room was near the top deck of the boat, making it much easier to follow the hallways that had confused you so much a few hours prior. The wooden floors and walls here have less mold growing on them than the floors lower down. It's been cleaned thoroughly but they still couldn't seem to get all the fungus off. It was practically a permanent fixture of the ship. Destined to be there forever.

Once outside, you watch the sun start to hide, tucking itself under the horizon. It paints the sky with gorgeous yellows and purples, staining everything in its path with a golden filter. The sun is no longer searing your skin, instead it's moderate. More reserved than it would be at noon. The bright red ball of fire is starting to give way to the moon, concealing itself, letting another celestial body have its time to shine. Unselfishly.

Chuuya bounces as he walks with you to the top floor, setting you down next to him at the table. His arm is still wrapped around your waist, pulling you close until your tail and his thigh are pressed together. When you turn to look at him, you see he's already got his gaze focused on you. Chuuyas arm tightens around you slightly, his other hand coming up to play with the collar of his linen shirt nervously. He glances back down to the arm wrapped around you.

“I-its so you don't fall…”

You nod, accepting his answer and turning back to the table. The crew starts pouring in, fighting over seating and making comments about you. The same woman that smells nice from a few hours ago sits on the other side of you. She doesn't seem to like it when her kimono brushes up against your skin, scooting away.

“You're going to make my clothes smell like fish.”

Before you can speak up, Chuuya cuts in.

“Be nice.”

She huffs, head held up high, not even having the decency to look at you instead of the space across from her at the table.

“I'm just saying. I don't want my clothes dirtied.”

“Then why did you sit here?”

You finally speak up. She turns to look at you, eyes narrowed in discontent.

“None of your business. You should learn to keep your mouth shut, you have no use here other than to be sold.”

Chuuya chips in.

“Ane- san, there's no need for so much hostility. They're here now and they'll be here for a while. And Aren't you the one always telling me not to start fights for no reason?”

She glances over at him, lips pursing together.

“You've gotten too soft, Chuuya.”

After that, they both stay silent. The awkwardness is heavy in the air. Looming over you and sinking into your bones, making your muscles feel restless. Time moves slowly, oozing like sluggish drops of foul slime. Sticking to everything and everyone in the vicinity, ruining the festive atmosphere that had once filled the dining area- staining it with a somber, dreadful aura.

When the food comes, people start muttering softly among themselves, not wanting to face Chuuya or the woman's wrath. The meal itself didn't seem bad, their plates were full of dried fruits, chicken, cheese and bread that was well-seasoned. Probably to mask the flavor and smell of decomposing meat. For you, the only thing served was more clams, mussels, oysters, and seaweed. Thankfully they looked fresh unlike most of the crew's food. As you started eating- breaking open the shells, and scraping out the soft inside- you felt something hard. It was round and smooth, like a rock. Without thinking, you spit it out onto your hand and are met with a precious little white pearl. The people all around fall into silence once again, staring and the jewel in the palm of your hand.

“WHAT?!?”

Albatross’s shout pierces the quietude resonating in the air, breaking people out of their stupor. The unruly group of pirates swarm towards you, blocking all exits and your line of sight. You hold the pearl closer to yourself, hand clenched around it tightly, scowling.

“Alright! Alright everyone! Settle down! They found it, it's theirs to decide what to do with it!”

The air you had been unconsciously trapping in your lungs was finally let out, tension leaving your body as the crowd cleared out. The crew was still talking excitedly, expecting you to give them the jewel or at least sell it for money. Albatross was eagerly trying to convince you to hand it to him.

“I just wanna look, I swear! I'll give it back! I promise!”

Chuuya sighs, exasperated at his friend's weak attempts to trick you.

“They're not stupid… give up.”

“Aww come on Chuuya! You can't seriously be on its side!”

“Their.”

The blonde man's face sours- somehow more than when he ate the nearly rotten meal a few seconds ago.

“Huh?”

“Their. They're not an object. Speak properly next time.”

Albatross crosses his arms, eyes narrowed.

“I thought it didn't matter, weren't we gonna get rid of them anyways?”

He spits it out, stressing it like there's something inherently wrong or dirty about the word. He doesn't even treat his moldy meat this way. somehow treating you like a human being was one of the most vile, disgusting things he could do.

“It doesn't matter. I'm your boss aren't i? do what i say or else.”

At Chuuya’s biting words, Albatross backs off, mumbling under his breath, eating quietly for the rest of the meal. His head is hanging low, like a humiliated dog. It's uncharacteristic of him, he's usually so rowdy and loud. Chuuya's words seemed to be taken as gospel in this place. It was odd how much power he held over everyone.

The big pile of clams and kelp on your plate slowly disappear, leaving behind empty shells and a small pile of little multi-colored pearls. It's a miracle you found so many. Not all of them are perfectly round. Some have little blemishes and spots- or pieces that stick out, almost like a little tail. Despite not being flawless little gems, they glow just as brightly as the rest of them. Catching the attention of anyone who passes by- tempting them to swipe it off your plate and hold them hostage, away from you, for themselves.

After you've finished your food, you hold the little pearls in your palm, swirling them around and admiring the sparkle they give off. It's hypnotizing- the way they bounce off one another and clink together, glittering under the soft light. When you hold one up, next to the moon, you could almost confuse them for each other. Both creamy and comforting, reflecting the light off something much bigger than itself, but still enchanting in their own way.

"You really like them huh?'

Nodding, you look over at Chuuya, he's smiling down at you, eyes filled with warmth. The passion in his gaze wraps around you like a blanket- Protecting you from the harsh environment outside of your little bond. You lean closer, for some reason an overwhelming urge comes over you to feel his skin on yours. It's so smooth and well taken care of. Nothing like yours, which still isn't used to being in fresh air instead of salty sea water. His breath catches in his throat, grip tightening around your hips.

"You can have them."

You hold out the small handful of pearls for him. He blinks, shocked.

"Why? They’re precious, you should keep them."

Shrugging you pry his arm off from around you, forcing him to take the jewels. When his hand brushes against your lightly a tingling sensation travels from the tips of your fingers to your heart, causing it to speed up, and butterflies to form in your stomach. Chuuya seems to feel it too, gasping softly, hand clenching around the tiny pile of gemstones.

"Well...if you want me to. I'll take good care of them for you."

Chuuya admires the pearls in his hand for a few seconds.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?"

Albatross shouts from across the table, furious that he didn't get his 'fair share.'

"Why not me!?"

He starts fake sobbing, rolling around on the floor, and pulling on his hair dramatically. Groaning, Chuuya rolls his eyes.

"Did you seriously think they would ever give you these?"

"No but... I wanted them."

Albatross sticks his bottom lip out, pouting and trying to seem as cute as possible. It's fooling no one.

"Sorry for him boss, he's just being a little... theatrical."

The handsome man with blonde hair and blue eyes who was sitting next to Albatross speaks up. Chuuya grunts quietly, agitated.

"That's one way of putting it."

The man grabbed Albatross’ meager braid, dragging him away as he continues writhing around. He keeps a gentle smile on his face despite Albatross hurling insults at him and shouting.

"Lippmann! This is humiliating! Let me go! You can't do this to me!"

You can hear the man's voice get fainter and fainter as he's forced to rub against the floor- hauled across the decaying wood, getting small splinters along the way to the crew's quarters.

Chuuya relaxes once he's gone, tension leaving his shoulders, unfazed by what just happened. He quickly moves on, holding up one of the pink pearls with a little section that sticks out like a tail.

"This one looks like you."

You grin, his comment makes a weird sensation pool in your stomach. Settling heavy in your gut and spreading all around the forgotten recesses of your mind. Taking over your body completely.

"Does it?"

He nods.

"Yeah, it even has a little tail, see?"

You chuckle, looking down at the rest of the pile.

"And this one is you."

You hold up a little black pearl with a small extrusion coming out of the top.

"It looks like your hat."

He chuckles, putting the jewels in a compact pouch.

"I'll cherish these forever."

He glances up at the sky, breathing in deeply. You do the same. Strangely, you don't feel as suffocated by dry air anymore. You've become used to the bare feeling on your skin and the empty sensation in your lungs. The sea was cold and lonely, unlike being on land here with Chuuya. A peaceful quietness settles over the two of you, steadily tugging at you, pulling you closer. He breaks the silence.

"Uhm... can we talk in private?"

He looks around the dining table. People are still hanging around, talking and drinking, being tumultuous and causing chaos all around them.

"Yeah we probably should."

Chuuya stands up, strong arms picking you up once again.

"I'm sorry you have to keep carrying me around."

He shakes his head, finding it silly.

"I don't mind, I'm strong. Plus it'd be stupid if I was upset with you for trapping you here."

He walks with you in his arms toward the edge of the ship, seating you down on the chair he had left here a few hours ago when he was letting you look over the sea. Sitting down across from you, he crosses his legs. You find yourself missing the sensation of his skin against yours. It's far too frigid without him near you.

"What did you want to talk to me about?"

He looks up at you, expression serious.

"I wanted to let you go."

You feel your heart jump into your throat, blood running cold.

"... What..?"

This is what you had been waiting for, a chance to leave this place behind. To go back home. The man who had ripped you away from your habitat was offering you the chance to do the thing you'd been longing for. But somehow you found yourself dreading the idea. Would the water hug you as tightly as Chuuya did? Would the environment be as welcoming? You didn't have friends or family anymore. There was no reason to go back to the freezing sea. Chuuya had treated you kindly, defending and sympathizing with you. He wasn't even as bad of a person as he seemed at first. His willingness to let you leave proved that.

"You can go back home."

You tense up, looking out at the ocean. It's glittering beautifully. The water at night is such a familiar sight, it's hard to not miss it. The waves crash against the side of the rickety old boat, soothing your ringing ears. An ache in your heart longs to be back there, in a place you can move freely, but the dry air feels much more freeing than the pressure of water all around you. Especially when you get to be around someone.

“I… don't want to.”

His eyebrows furrow, baffled.

“Huh??? Why not?”

In spite of his questioning, a seed of hope is planted in his heart. blossoming under your attention. Blooming at the warmth and care radiating off you. He would do anything to keep you here, but at this point, keeping you hostage is too far. He doesn't want to trap you, he wants you to be happy.

“I just dont… I have no one to go back to and… I like being here.”

“On land?”

“Yeah, it's not so bad here.”

He pauses, reading your expression. He cant find any signs of lying, only a sincere look on your face.

“Well… if you want to you could stay in my room.”

“In the bed?”

He raises an eyebrow, lips quirking up smugly.

“You want to stay in my bed?”

Your cheeks turn hot. Humiliated at the implication that you enjoy being in the same bed in that way. Even if it was a little bit true.

“It's cozy!”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

He looks back out over the ledge.

“Are you positive you don't want to go back?”

“I'm completely sure.”

He smiles softly, pleased with your answer.

“Let's go then.”

Chuuya gets up, gathering you in his arms once again and leading you back down to his chambers. There's a fuzzy feeling developing in your brain at the feeling of his muscles against you. He's so firm in all the right places. His footsteps are heavy, banging against the weakened wooden planks as he makes his way through the hallways.

The door to his room creaks open, swinging onto the wall beside it. The view of his quarters once again steals your breath away. It's pure luxury like you'd never seen. Chuuya sets you down on the edge of his bed before walking towards one of his cabinets, taking a few tools out and sitting beside you.

“What's that for?”

“I'm making something.”

He takes out the bag he had put the pearls you gifted him in, methodically drilling small holes in each one. There weren't many pearls to begin with but he took his time with each one, making sure it was perfect. Once that was done, he started weaving silk cord between each one, fingers deftly creating knots between each one to ensure that  they stay safe. The process takes a long time but watching him work with the concentrated glower on his face makes everything more enjoyable. Neither of you speak during the process, enjoying the comfortable silence that descends over the room- only the sound of pearls clinking together and the drill permeate the air.

Once he's done, he holds up the necklace. It's full of disfigured pearls. The pattern is inconsistent with pink, white, and black pearls littered throughout. It's chaotic. But Chuuya made it with his own hands. From the gift you gave him. The imperfections only make it more eye-catching. Why would you ever want a boring white pearl chain when Chuuya created this?

“I put ours together, look.”

He holds up the bottom of the necklace so you can see easier. At the center, the one you said looked like his hat, is next to the one he said looked like your tail. Your eyes are stinging, gasping for air, you reach over to grab the necklace from his hands.

“Are you okay?”

He looks so concerned- eyebrows pinched together, his hand comes to rest on your shoulder reassuringly.

“Yes… I love it.”

You try to catch your breath but it's been punched out of your lungs painfully. Your chest was struggling to expand, not used to the great deal of emotions you had been put through recently. Has Chuuya ever been so sentimental? It's such a sickeningly sweet moment that you can feel your stomach churning- struggling to process everything that's happened.

“Here, let me put it on for you.”

He gently takes it from your hands. As he clasps on the string of pearls, his calloused fingers brush against the back of your neck, sending a jolt of electricity down your back. Your heart is racing once again, adrenaline pumping through your veins until Chuuya starts scooching away.

“It looks lovely on you.”

Your cheeks burn under his attention. Chuuya is like the sun as a person- bright and warm, he helps those around him to grow and become better people. But he can also scorch everything in his path, annihilating everything that gets in his way. Around you, he tends to be more nurturing, you bring out a side in him that's softer. You wouldn't judge him for being tenderhearted. Instead, you indulge him. Letting him express his emotions freely.

“Thank you.”

He doesn't bother changing out of his clothing for the night. Deciding that he's too tired, he puts the tools he used away in his cabinet, before crawling back into the lavish sheets. He helps you adjust your position to a more comfortable one where his arms are wrapped around you. He tucks his head over your shoulder, breath fanning over your skin. Your nerves were alight, tremors traveling throughout your body. How was Chuuya so calm under these situations?

As the hours passed by, Chuuya fell asleep but you were still wide awake, thinking of what to do for him next. While your mind is wandering, the rocking of the ship against the splashing sea and sound of waves crashing is enough to lull you into a peaceful slumber. Slowly, the sounds and sensations take over your mind, surrounding it in a snug blanket of serene fuzziness.

When your eyes open again, bright sunlight is pouring into the room. Chuuya is still pressed against you. His hair is tickling your face, you try to move around but it only makes him hold on tighter. You put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake.

“Chuuya.”

He groans, rolling around, his mind is refusing to let him awaken. You only shake harder.

“Chuuya! Wake up, there's a fire on the ship!”

This makes his eyes spring open, immediately getting up in a panic.

“WHERE!”

“Nowhere.”

You snicker at him, amused at his immediate response to fake danger. He doesn't seem to find it as funny.

“You really shouldn't joke about that, you know.”

His hands are on his hips. You're still smiling at him, it was too fun to mess with him. He made it too easy.

“Fine, fine, I'll never joke about that again.”

You're lying.

“Can you help me up to the deck? I wanted to do something.”

He sighs, picking you up easily and carrying you through the hallways. They aren't as confusing as before, the layout of the boat was becoming more and more familiar as a concept- no longer the mysterious phenomenon that it used to be. The hot sun hits your eyes and skin as you reach the top floor, rays beaming down in brutal beacons, burning everything in its way. Chuuya sets you down on the ledge.

“Why did you want to come here?”

“I wanted to go back in the ocean, but only for a little bit, i just need to do something okay?”

Chuuya nods.

“I'll anchor down then.”

He turns to the rest of his crew that's bustling around, instructing them on what to do. Before he can get back to you, you've already dived back in. The water is freezing, seizing your muscles and shocking your system. How could this possibly be the way you had lived before? All the colorful corals underwater were washed out by a blue hue. It was so empty. Almost no life for miles. Nothing compared to the rambunctious crowd on the ship. The quiet stillness was unsettling now. It used to ease your nerves, relax you, but now it's not enough. It's eerie.

You ignore the dreadful feeling in your stomach, swimming around- you gather various things like sea pickles, red shells, pretty pieces of seaweed, an urchin, and some sea stars for good measure. Your tail was finally moving again, it was starting to get restless after spending so much time inactive. When you come back up to the surface of the water, you look up at the deck. Chuuya is watching you. Your heart jumps into your throat, making it hard to breathe. Or is it just the fresh air again?

The crowd of pirates helps you get back up to the ship, much more gently than last time, helping you sit on a chair again. When Chuuya sees what you have, he raises an eyebrow.

“This is the important thing you needed help with?”

“Yes.”

You hold up the red shell to his hair.

“See? this matches. It's for you.”

You hand it to him, going through a similar process of explaining each item and why it fits him well before handing it to him.

“So… why are you giving me these?”

You tilt your head, staring at him incredulously.

“For our wedding.”

Everyone surrounding you two bursts into chaos, filling the air with boisterous chatter and gossip. Chuuya's cheeks redden, he tries hiding his face with his hand but it does nothing to conceal the embarrassment.

“WHAT?!?”

“Our wedding. I gave you the gifts I needed to, we have to have our wedding soon.”

Chuuya is sputtering in shock. Albatross in the background is crying real tears. The woman in the silk kimono whose name you never learned is stunned.

“That doesn't mean we're married!”

“Yes it does. We even slept together last night.”

Everyone's eyes widened, silence falling over the room. It's like the calm before the storm.

“CHUUYA?!?”

Someone shouts out to him before everyone joins in, gossiping and making jokes loudly. They start crowding closer, surrounding the both of you.

“WAIT! WAIT! GUYS IT'S NOT WHAT YOU THINK!”

It's futile, Chuuya knows it is, but he tries to defend himself. Unfortunately, no one believes him at all. Albatross instead starts chewing his hair, berating him for being a ‘nasty, nasty little man.’ Chuuya tries to push him off but everyone else starts mocking him too, it's a never ending cycle. one person backs off, here comes another. Once everyone finally calmed down, Chuuya feels like he can breathe again, turning to face you.

“Look… just because your kind does it that way, doesn't mean that we do too.”

“But I like you… I thought you liked me too…”

Chuuya flushes, redness spreading down to his neck. He looks around the ship nervously.

“Can you guys stop staring!?! Get back to work!”

Everyone scatters, going off and pretending that they aren't watching intently.

“I-i do like you but… we can't get married just yet, it's too soon.”

Your nose scrunches, face twisting.

“Fine, we don't have to. But I really meant it. I've never felt like this about anyone before.”

“I know, me too. But we have to take it slower… Okay?”

You nod, discontented that you can't get married just yet.

“Okay.”

He wraps his arms around your waist, sitting you down on his lap. You can feel the tension settling between you. Your muscles are heavy, weighed down by the pressure filling the air. For a moment, everything went completely still and quiet. The sensation in the pit of your tummy only got worse, like bees were trying to break out through the stomach lining and skin. Chuuya's eyes were on your the whole time, only glancing down for a second to your lips before looking back up again. Before you notice it, you've started leaning closer- breath brushing across his face, lips barely inches apart.

He leans in the rest of the way, catching your lips in a passionate kiss. Chuuya’s hand comes up, cradling your jaw, pulling you impossibly closer. His tongue is hot against yours, brushing against your bottom lip, deepening the kiss. Your fingers curl in the fabric of his shirt, holding on for dear life. During these few seconds, the outside world seems to melt away, becoming a forgotten past. When you pull away, you're both panting. You stay close by, ready to dive back in before he holds you back with a hand on the shoulder.

"Are you sure about this? You don't have to stay forever."

"I'm sure."

He appears to be thinking, contemplating if he really believes your words.

"What about when I retire and can't be on the ship anymore? When it breaks down, and I have to live on land. Permanently."

"Then you better get me a bigger tank."

[nanaminsmoon]

babydaddy!connie x blackfem!reader

a/n: this one made my heart ache a little icl. but i had to put this song because it goes so well😭

pt.2

cw: pnv, unprotected sex, infidelity (reader cheats), connie calls reader; 'ma', 'hermosa', ”es bueno, ma?” ("is it good, ma?"), "quieres otro hijo, hm? you want a boy or a girl? dime, and i’ll give it to you” ("you want another kid, hm? [...] tell me, and i'll give it to you"),

wc: 3380

“why’s my daughter telling me you got a boyfriend?”, booming from where its owner was stood at the door, connie’s voice abruptly entered your ear canals to bring your attention to him. after hugging your daughter, you had kept your front door open for connie to come in if he wanted to. and, when he followed you both inside, you had just assumed he was bringing in your daughter’s belongings. even as he stuck around after having placed her bags in her bedroom, his presence was dashed to the back of your mind. now, as your child sat in the garden eating with her aunt, he was demanding your attention as he leant against the doorframe.

“because i do”, your eyes were trained on the soapy dishes in front of you, and they wouldn’t divert as you spoke. meaning you didn’t see the incredulous expression on your ex-boyfriend’s face, as his features scrunched at your straight forward response.

“the fuck you need a boyfriend for?”, he asked. confusion was laced through every word in that sentence to hold it together so it could leave his mouth. barely.

“because we can't fuck as friends forever, connie. at some point we both need to move on, and i have”, you answered, frankly. the decision to coparent came after you and connie decided to break up four years ago. and four long years had been hastened by sunday sunsets spent behind closed bedroom doors when he returned your daughter back to you. meaning that suspicions did rise when the emotions sprawled on your face, at the end of every week, had become more impassive—the lustful glimmer in your irises, dimming to a seemingly more platonic one. yet, connie never said anything, he just assumed you wanted space. that’s not to say that it didn’t bother him, but he knew that he couldn’t beg you to come back to him. as much as he did want to.

because, contrary to popular belief, connie had changed since you two broke up. having heard the news of you having a boyfriend, old connie would’ve had a video of some girl throwing ass on him seared into the back of your eyelids by sundown. but old connie had never developed an understanding of how important his family was, and new connie would lose his life before he lost his girls. yet, these two different versions of the same man still shared one similarity; their love for antagonising you.

“so you're just bringing randoms into the place my daughter sleeps?”, connie exaggerated as he always did, irritation audible in his tone. and you’d roll your eyes at him.

“first off, he's not a random, he's my boyfriend. and second, this is my house, i can bring in whoever i want”, you said, wiping a pan. that term, ’my boyfriend’, was an anvil that sunk connie’s intestines to his feet in a way he had never felt before. it was hard to put a finger on what exact feeling it induced, but he did know that it pressed his dreams, of getting his family back, into grains of sand that would escape his grasp through the growing gaps in his fingers.

“has she met him?”, he asked, cautiously, looking at his sock covered feet in the slippers you had always kept for him. in the past, that had been a gesture that made him feel at home with you; something that made him feel like you still cared for him the way he did you. but now, the slippers felt uncomfortable. like they were growing in size, and the only person capable of wearing them was someone he could never be—like he couldn’t fill them anymore, and you knew that so you had gotten someone else to do it.

“yeah, he came over and cooked us dinner and she loved it.”, you said, tone coming out more braggy than you had hoped. and that hurt connie more than it angered him, but the latter was the only thing he was capable of expressing.

“so what, you gonna marry him?”, those words were abrupt, even surprising connie’s ears. but they’d be met with a scoff from your glossed lips as annoyance built inside you. your love life was none of his concern, and he knew that, so his entitlement infuriated you beyond belief.

“i don't know, connie”, you said, vexed, as you waved him off, “even if i was, why’s that any of your business?”,

“’cause you're the mother of my child. as long as she's here, your business is my business”, the truth in that statement rested in what connie didn’t say. that being, you were the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with so, whether you liked it or not, his heart had already staked its claim on you. and he needed to know who to fend off, to keep you by his side.

no thoughts spawned in your mind at that statement, so you’d just remain silent as you continued what you were doing. that gave connie enough time to search for straws to clutch at to get you back. but he could only ever draw one. that was the one that placed a small smile on his face as his tongue swiped across his bottom lip; if connie couldn’t win your mind over, he’d try his luck at the one thing that refused to obey the former.

”so we’re done? not even one more time for the road?”, connie’s shoulder pushed his body off the doorframe, before he started making his way toward you. a stutter in your mind would replay that phrase, ’one more time for the road’, until it finally clicked.

“we're not fucking, no”, you said, avoiding eye contact.

“just quickly, ma. i know you miss it.”, connie’s smirk would only widen when his statement received no rebuttal. and it’d stay that way as he walked to stand right behind you—he’d place a hand on either side of you, pushing you right against the counter. all you could muster was a harsh swallow as connie moved closer to you, and his breath would be touching your neck as he spoke, voice lowered.

"you used to call me all the time telling me you ain't never had dick like this. and i know he ain't fucking you good enough for you to forget about me", connie’s lips brushed past your ear. a brief shudder would intensify to wring out any suppressed longing you held for him, producing a moist patch at the front of your underwear. and that was before you could even feel his desperation, to keep you his, pressing into your lower back. once that’d register, you’d have to breathe deeply to release the temptation building within you.

"i'm not cheating on my man, connie", you said, voice shaking. a sigh would fall from connie’s lips, hitting the spot on your neck they planned to cover, before transfiguring into a tingle that explored your back. one of connie’s favourite things about you was your loyalty, so that answer was expected. but he’d still kiss his teeth at the knowledge that it was now being directed toward someone else.

"then leave him", he’d say, an inch away from your neck, before his plump lips would attach to the skin there. a proprietorial mark would be etched onto your skin when connie heard you sigh out in pleasure. the erasure of all his doubts would arrive when you tilted your head to give him better access. and those doubts would then be quashed completely when your hand rose to run your fingers through his buzzcut.

a few more kisses to the neck, combined with connie’s hand venturing into the front of your leggings to rub away all loyalties to your man, affirmed connie’s statements about you missing him. but once you were in the privacy of your bedroom, he could actually feel how much you missed him; your need for him was prominent in the way you tightened around his length like you feared letting him go. this was the first time where fucking you was a welcomed struggle, pulling out of you being a necessity he wanted to avoid. mainly due to the connection of your foreheads, connie couldn’t see anything but you; the noises you made, your scent, the look he could discern in your eyes when they weren’t exploring their sockets, all of it warmed his heart in an infuriatingly delightful way. and there was no way you hadn’t missed him, and the way he knew your body inside out. the way he knew where to kiss as your legs rested over his shoulders, a pillow sat underneath your hips as your nails painted stripes onto the skin on his back. five years ago, connie fucked you in every position he could think of, but separation birthed the need for closeness. so now, whenever you two fucked, it was always in a position that allowed for his eyes to be locked with yours as his tip poked that spot that had made you nut twice already.

”es bueno, ma?”, he asked and you’d nod a reply, pulling a smile from the man above you. you were all he could see, and perhaps that’s why he saw love in everything that surrounded him.

prior to this point in his life, connie’s need to build a family with you had never been a focal point for him. but now it was all he could see; he saw it in the envy that followed him around at the sight of families happily laughing together, he saw it in the ducks dutifully trailing their mother at the pond near your house, and he felt it when the merging of you and your daughter’s giggles made his heart feel swollen in a way he could never soothe. if he had it his way, you’d both be married with four kids living in some mansion somewhere. but when push came to shove, his ideals only ever amounted to short-lived ‘conversations’ when you two were fucking,

”quieres otro hijo, hm? you want a boy or a girl? dime, and i’ll give it to you”, a fucked out mutter would always fall from your lips, and that’s the only answer he could ever get from you. because the answer you gave him any other time, tore his heart into a million pieces he had yet to locate. your boyfriend posed a new challenge for him, so connie would have to tell you how he felt before he lost you forever. feverish kisses would be placed on any skin connie would reach, as his hips sped up. pleasured mumbles would mean nothing to him, because he could feel your body warning him of your release.

”i’m yours, hermosa, just—fuck—nut on it”, he’d instruct, and your body would obey. this man was fucking you so good, you could’ve sworn you felt your soul leave its vessel, to watch you coating connie and the bed underneath you, in your arousal. and connie wouldn’t be far behind—hips losing their rhythm, and low ’fuck’s leaving his mouth before he started kissing you again.

”ifuckingloveyou”, he messily kissed onto your lips and surprise struck you so hard, you didn’t even register your own mouth speaking back to him,

”mmloveyoutoo”, those words would be enough to trigger a twitching in connie’s balls that would empty them, until he was leaking out of you.

the kiss you two shared was bittersweet, both literally and figuratively. not just due to the lingering taste of the results of your aching throat, mixing with the reason why you could still feel his lips wrapping around your clit, but also because connie felt like he was flirting with a dream that could never be realised. but that wouldn’t stop you two from losing yourself in each other and making out for a few minutes. until you’d hear a knock. all movements would be halted, and there’d be silence from behind the door. then winces, and small hisses of discomfort, would fill the space as connie pulled out of you before getting up to put his boxers on. he’d step off the bed, walking over to the door to tend to, who he thought was, his daughter.

”princesa, we’ll be out in a second, okay?”, connie shouted to the other side of the door, but the voice he heard was not the one he was expecting.

“the fuck’s going on?!”, connie’s eyes would dart back to your wide ones, before a smirk would quickly grace his face. it was clear to see that he was trying his very hardest to not burst into laughter, despite your panic being written all over you. disorientation clouded you to the point that you didn’t even realise that the shirt you decided to put on your body was connie’s. but he would. and he wouldn’t say anything, even as you walked to the door to talk to your boyfriend.

”i can explain”, is all you’d manage to get out to your man, before he’d open the door further to find connie sitting himself on the bed, covering himself with the sheets he’d just put on his lower half. the lower half of his face remained smug, but the upper half of it was focused as he watched the scene unfolding in front of him; desperate hands grappling to hold your boyfriend’s arms or hands, as he paced the room, trying to digest what he was seeing. connie’s enjoyment would be short-lived, ending when he heard the angry words your boyfriend was throwing at you.

”shoulda fucked her better, then i wouldna had to do it”, he said, still laid on the bed. the room would fall still once again, and you’d look at him in pleading. he’d shrug, but acquiesce, not saying anything after that comment. that seemed to be the final straw for your boyfriend, because he’d say something about needing to go outside before walking out.

the blustering of infuriated footsteps would fade out as you followed your boyfriend down the hallway to the front door. connie would sit in waiting, leaning against the headboard, as he contemplated what this meant for the both of you, but those thoughts would be cut short at your return. alone. it turns out, no amount of apologies or promises that this will never happen again could convince your boyfriend to stay. and, though that elated connie more than he cared to admit, he couldn’t help the lump forming in his throat at the sight of your slumped posture as you sandwiched your lip between your teeth, swallowing pained tears. that lump would block any sly comments he planned to make. in fact, he wouldn’t even speak as he got up to walk to you, hands reaching to pull you closer to him. even as you pushed him away,

”leave me alone”, you chided, quietly. but, no matter how hard you pushed, connie would overpower you to pull you into the warmest hug you’d had in months. its warmth would invite your arms to wrap around him, sobs spilling into his bare chest the second your cheek touched it. not once letting go, connie would pull you back into bed, wrap you in the sheets, before comforting you. relief drowned a certain of him as it knew that he had a chance of getting you back. but the part of him that still had its head above water wrestled with guilt; there’s nothing this man wanted for you than happiness, and seeing his hands be the ones to take it away from you pained him.

the commotion of everything numbed you to your environment, so it would be only a few moments before your distraught sobs would reach the ears of the person you wanted to hear them least. small knocks would bring yours and connie’s attention to the half-open door, and you’d try to get yourself together, but there was only so much you could do to hide the shadows of sorrow reddening your eyes, and creating darkened splotches on connie’s shirt. as soon as you saw your daughter reach up to comfort you, you’d climb off the bed and hug her, feeling your heart start to glue back together when she wiped a tear off your face. both you and connie would instruct her to wait for you in the living room and you’d begin getting dressed properly once you’d hear her run off excitedly.

the both of you would get dressed, and walk down the stairs, in silence. the most connie would provide would be an arm around your shoulder, and a kiss to your temple, which you accepted happily. and, as soon as you were within an earshot of the living room, you’d hear ’the little mermaid’ playing for the nth time, accompanied by the usual harmonisations provided by your daughter’s jovial singing. you’d be admiring the blankets, cushions, and snacks she had set up before you’d be distracted by the rustling of connie putting his shoes and coat on. every fibre of your being would beg you to stop him, but you’d try and convince yourself that he probably had somewhere to be. however, such considerations meant nothing to your hand that was already reaching to grab at his own,

”stay.”, you asked quietly, and his eyes would widen at the request. of course he wanted to stay, but he didn’t think you’d want to spend another minute around the man who had just ruined your relationship. but then once your daughter ran up to him, pouting while asking,

”please~”, his decision would be made for him.

as you watched the movie, you’d notice connie’s eyes fixated on you. at first you thought he was watching your daughter wave her little mermaid doll around but, when you’d turn to check, you’d be met with direct eye contact. his lips would fall agape only to meet again, before they’d open to allow their owner to mouth a belated apology,

”i’m sorry”, his swollen lips would trace out, and a forgiving ”it’s okay” would be mouthed by your own lips. there’d a second where you’d just be staring at each other in mutual love and understanding. it was obvious that this chapter wasn’t finished, not when the authors holding the pens had changed immensely since the day the first page of the book had been written. but small hands would rise to push your faces to face the screen, and connie’s own inability to forgive himself for his actions would shift his eyes to the floor. that’s when they’d narrow in on the slippers that did nothing but breed insecurity. a small voice in his head would ask him if they still felt hard to fill, and admittedly, they still did. yet, looking at them again, he didn’t mind that. though the future still held uncertainties, the feeling of you and your daughter leaning on him, as his arm reached around to embrace you both, filled the gaps of himself he had lost confidence in. because this was all he had ever wanted; to become a person that could be leant on by the people he cared for most. both of you. for as long as his lungs held breath, and for as long as the image of you and your child falling asleep on him every night, was the only one his subconscious could conjure up when his head met his pillow at the end of every day.

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