#and i put the rest of the joint in a bag

[stonedasamartyr]

Guy Whose Way Too Stoned for the Rolling Papers to be Pink: oh shit these rolling papers are pink

[iheartcurlyfries]

put it in a ponytail, fuck it from behind.

dealer!abby x nerdy!reader

CW: 18+, heavy mentions of drugs, wlw, strap sucking r!giving, strap fucking r!receiving, gentle abby, lots of uses of swears, car sex, praising, hair tugging, name calling, smut with very little plot, abby calls her strap her "dick", cringe (low-key)

requests are open!!<33

ever since you were younger you always loved the idea of drugs, you used them as an escape, a way to leave the real world even if it was only for a few hours.

and of course when you went to college you found out about the school's dealer, abby anderson. obviously you were excited, you knew if you ever needed a little help she'd hook you up, and when you did, she really did give you what you needed.

for some reason she always discounted you, never making you pay fully. you never understood why, maybe because you were a nerd? no one ever expected you to be into drugs, and when you asked her for some she was genuinely surprised.

'mm, here for your usual?' she'd smile as she saw you open her car door, she'd lean back on the leather seat, one hand on the steering wheel as her head lightly turned to you.

'yes please.' you'd say, you always got the same thing, a tiny zip lock bag of a few joints packed in. she knew you too well, she'd always make sure to pack the bag full, so you had extra.

she reached into her backpack, pulling out the bag before handing it to you, the smile forming into a sly grin. 'y'know what?' she whispered, spreading her legs slightly.

'hm?' you hummed, taking the bag into your hands and setting it aside. you reached your hand into your pocket, pulling out a stack of cash, handing it to her.

she chuckled before pushing your hand away. 'no no- it's on the house.' you shook your head, trying to hand her the cash again, she swatted your hand away. 'seriously, babe, it's free.'

'n' why's that?' you said, your back pressed against the leather passenger seat, gently and slowly putting the cash down. 'because you're my best customer, silly.' she'd smile, her hands sliding down her thigh as she looked at you. you returned the smile, 'are you sure? I always buy from you.' you mumbled, she nodded.

'it's fine, princess.' she teased, a soft giggle escaping her throat. 'I don't want cash from you.' she said, you noticed she slowly checked you out.

'then what can I do for a payment?' you rested your hand on your thigh, your eyes lingering on her as you almost admired her gaze on you. your tone was serious, you genuinely wanted to give her something in return, as always.

her gaze softened, she looked at you, wondering if you were being serious, but of course you were. you never understood sarcasm or anything, you'd never usually joke around like how she would, and that's something she liked about you.

she'd lean in, taking her beauty as you felt her heavy eyes gazing all over your body. her eyes were half lidded, she mostly kept eye contact with you, only stopping to gaze down your neck. she'd lean in more, slowly, so she could whisper in your ear. 'this.' she pulled back for a second, taking a moment to look at your lips before she crashed hers onto them.

your eyes fluttered as she kissed you, a sweet sound of ecstasy escaped your throat as she pulled you closer. she wrapped an arm around you, kissing you deeply. 'c'mere angel..' she whispered against your lips as her hand slid down, gripping your left hip before tugging on it. you obeyed, letting her guide you over the glove compartment and onto her lap, she slowly adjusted herself to make sure you were comfortable.

you leaned into her, the soft sounds of love escaping both of your lips as she guided both hands to your thighs. she gently rubbed them, she pulled at your thighs, reeling you in even more.

you couldn't help but lightly moan, her touch was intoxicating and you never wanted it to stop. her hands slid up to your hips, she gripped them gently before gently pushing them against her. a sweet sound escaped from a tiny gap in between your lips, you felt something, almost like a buldge in her pants?

your eyes widened as she pressed you into it more, almost making sure you knew what you were being grinded against. she pulled away from the kiss, letting out a pant before resting her gaze on you again. 'you feel that? mm.. it's m'dick..' she whispered, a smile growing on her face as she rubbed you against it, her smile only growing when you made more of your beautiful noises.

'do you want me to fuck you?' she'd ask, but you couldn't focus, her voice was already enough for you. you'd give her a slow nod, a soft smile on your face as you let her guide your hips. your nod was a good response to her, her hands left your hips and instead creeped up your sides. 'get on your knees.' she said, it was almost like a command, you slowly backed up, slowly lowering yourself down into the bottom of the car seat. once you were down there she slipped her jeans off, guiding them down to her ankles. she smiled at you, grabbing your chin and guiding it up to her strap. 'open up, angel..' you instantly opened your lips, enough for her to guide her strap into your mouth.

she slid a hand into your hair, guiding it into a ponytail so she could tug on it. you looked up at her, only the tip of her dick being in your mouth. she gently thrusted forwards, the head of the strap sliding into your mouth, it slightly hit the back of your mouth. she gently pushed in and out, slowly throat fucking you, she made sure to get her strap wet enough for you. she tugged on your hair, you closed your eyes, lightly gagging as her strap slid in and out of the opening to your throat.

she leaned back, staring at you, taking in every detail of you as she watched you take her dick like a champ. she uttered out light praise, smiling at you as the strap hit your uvula slightly. 'good girl..' she whispered before gently pulling the strap out of your mouth, putting her thumb onto your bottom lip. she pulled her hand back, patting her lap. 'c'mon pretty girl.' you smiled, the smile was so pure. you lifted yourself up, guiding yourself back onto abby's lap.

her hands grabbed at your hips again, leaning in to give you a quick kiss before she grabbed the waistband of your pants, quickly sliding them down. 'take em' off..' she mumbled. you giggled, helping her take your pants and panties off, sliding them down your ankles.

she smirked at you, the ends of her mouth curving up into a lustful expression. her hands pulled your hips fowards, guiding you into a different position. she turned you around, making you face the steering wheel, she rubbed her hands up your sides, her fingers circling them. she began to lift you up slightly, wrapping one arm around your waist before she guided you down on her dick.

you whined at the feeling, you felt a soft pain as she stretched you out, but the pain quickly faded. she leaned in to kiss your neck, whispering an 'I'm sorry, baby..' when she heard your whine. you cooed, reassuring her it was okay. she took your hair into her hand again, taking a hair band off of her wrist and guiding your hair into it slowly, making sure it wasn't tied tightly. with a light tug on your hair she gently started to thrust into you. rubbing down your thigh in slow motions as she leaned in to kiss down the back of your neck again.

you whimpered, her arm sliding around your waist again as she lifted you up and down onto her. tugging at your ponytail once more as a soft grunt left her lips. your eyes rolled back into your head as butterflies swirled in your stomach. her arms practically cradled you, her eyes took in your curves before she let her spare hand roam them.

'mph.. abby..' you grunted, your hands struggling to try and find something to grip. she slowly sped up her gentle thrusts, rubbing her hand over your stomach as she sucked a light hickey onto the back of your shoulder. 'do you like that angel? like the feeling of my dick fuckin' you?' she lightly teased, letting out a soft giggle into your ear as she pulled at your ponytail again, biting down onto your neck, not hard, very gently, making sure not to hurt you.

you'd nod, not sure if you were able to choke out a sentence, not when abby's dick being this deep inside you. she'd tug at your hair once more, 'use your words, sweetheart..' she mumbled. you whined, taking a second as you tried to get a sentence out. 'I love it-- mmggh..' your sentence got caught up as abby hit a weak spot, you gripped the steering wheel as she hit it again, and again.

she was driving you fucking insane, her dick fucked you so effortlessly, she slid in and out of you with delicate precision. your cunt started gushing around her dick, she only pushed in deeper, using the sound as a signal that you were close. you never felt this feeling before, a intense knot in your stomach growing and growing, desperately wanting release as she bucked her hips into you.

it all felt unreal, she was sending you to heaven and you didn't want it to stop. sweet moans left your mouth, another signal for abby to keep going, she loved the sound of your voice, the way you let out the prettiest noises that were only for her to hear. she needed to please you, making it a mission. she leaned back, letting go of your hair before she put both hands on your hips, helping you ride her. she praised you, her tone as genuine as possible, she made you feel good, amazing at that. 'you got this baby, cum f'me.' she said, her grip tightened on your hips, making it feel as if she was holding you down, making sure you couldn't get away. you squirmed, choking out a whine. 'm'gonna cum, abs..'

she'd chuckle, her hands gripping at the soft fat on your thighs. 'let it out, let it all out f'me..' she said, guiding you to your orgasm. it all felt like a blur, you bit down on your bottom lip, cursing under your breath as you felt it. you came down from your high like it was a waterfall, she helped ride out your orgasm. quickly speeding up as you'd moan: 'fuuuck.. abs..!' she'd smile, gently slowing down. your eyes would roll back again, as you felt your walls gush. she pulled you back, letting you lay on her. she'd kiss down your neck, rubbing her hands up your curves again. 'did so good f'me didn't you?' she asked, looking for an answer as you panted. 'mmhhmmm..' you'd say, your voice cracking. she'd chuckle, staring at your face with a gentle gaze, guiding a hand up your arm.

'I think I'd prefer this as payment..'

'me too...'

authors note: hsgshshsjs it's finally done, I seriously was tweaking writing this like my writers block rn is insane so sorry if it starts good and gets worse towards the end, idk I'm tired but yaah.

[blockedbykei]

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐏 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐎𝐖

🏐— tsukishima kei x f!reader

— synopsis: he hates your intelligence in classrooms and you hate his cunnigness at the court. both go at great lengths to defeat each other, but how is it that both of you were the only ones that can help each other be better?

— warnings: swearing, a bit suggestive, enemies to lovers (although kind of enemies)

You slam your paper on his desk.

Tsukishima barely flinches. He removes his headphones and hangs them on his neck, unbothered by your looming presence as he stares blankly at your paper. 96

The corners of his lips tug down, seemingly unimpressed. "Eh."

"Eh? Aw, is little Tsukishima disappointed at himself?"

He looks up at you, stares deeply into your eyes. And for a moment you'd think his domineering gaze would soften as he was overawed by you. But then he smiles, that annoying little shitty, narcissistic smile.

"Actually, not at all (l/n)," his smile is bright, almost genuine, but his sarcasm is radiating. "I got a 98. Not bad, though!"

You swear steam was coming off your body.

"96 at modern Japanese." He says. "Understandable."

"Understandable?!"

"Don't beat yourself up, (l/n). Not everyone's perfect," he leans back. "Not even me. I mean, I'm just being humble. But yeah, not everyone."

"I hate you," you take your paper off his desk.

"Flattered. Really, really flattered. Thank you for hating me, actually. I feel so honored to be hated." He puts his headphones back on and places his elbows on his desk, his chin resting on his joint fists. Tsukishima smiles at you again.

God, his smile is infuriating.

Tsukishima was someone you'd go to great lengths to defeat. He never bothered for your existence when first year began. He didn't even know your name; Didn't even look at your direction. He'd only known it a month later when you were paired to be partners and he decided to be such a condescending brat when he pointed out your handwriting.

At first you ignored it, took it by heart and started organizing your writings on your notes. Then he decided to put all his self-hatred on you and started to discreetly judge you.

Maybe he wasn't even judging you. Maybe he was just staring at your paper, scoffed to himself, shook his head and laughed because you got a better score than him and he was berating himself. But no, he laughed because he thought you were a tryhard and he was a prodigy.

Obviously none of those were confirmed. But he's a man and a man hates it when a woman's happy.

When he smirks you have the urge to rip his lips to pieces.

You walk away from him and sit on your desk, which was actually beside him.

His scent follows your flaring nostrils as you carefully shove your paper between the notebooks in your bag. Tsukishima looks out the window, hiding his smirk, his foot tapping lightly but never making sound. So you put your own headphones over your ears, in hopes to drown out his deafening aura.

🏐 —

"Shit!"

Tsukishima's knees bends the wrong way and almost falls onto his back as he lands on the ground. The ball echoes across the court as it ricochets off the floor. You laugh loudly, and everyone looks at you.

"You're too advanced for the block, idiot!" You say loudly. Yamaguchi giggles.

He rolls his eyes at you as he chases for the ball. Kageyama sits beside you.

"You know he plays horribly when you're here."

"Oh?" You raise a brow. "Is he not used to a girl looking at her?"

Kageyama scratches his nose. "Probably 'cause he hates you."

You laugh lightly. "Kinda nice that I'm here. I get to see him fuck up."

Kageyama snorts. "He feels pressured 'cuz you're here."

"Oh? He said that?"

"No. But I can hear him think."

You laugh and wipe your sweat off. "I'd play with you guys, but his remarks could piss me off and I might, uh, shove that ball up his ass."

When Kageyama laughs again, quite loudly, Tsukishima's head snaps at the bench where you're sitting. Heat rises to his head, his stance losing its usual strength, his arms weakening as he watches you—

Laughing, at some joke you said or Tobio said. Laughing heartily like someone just made the best joke in the world. The way your lips almost reach the wrinkles beneath your eyes. Oh, that's so funny Tobio. You're so funny you should quit volleyball and be a stand up comedian!

He knows you're talking shit about him, too. Idiot. Brat. Showoff.

He had the right to show off. He was better than you.

He was the better thinker; the better scorer.

Tsukishima is better than you.

I'm better than you—

The ball hits the side of his face, his glasses flailing to the side.

The first thing that reaches his ears—your sickening laugh. That monstrous, sadistic guffaw. Tanaka yells from the other side of the court and dives beneath the net to take a look at his face. Nishinoya hovers, hands on his knees, laughing.

"Pay attention, dumbass!" You cuff your hands over your mouth. "Stop daydreaming! It's embarrassing."

He bends to pick his glasses up. Alive, no cracks, frame not broken. He puts it on the bridge of his nose so that he could see your face clearly.

Hideously alluring.

"Do you think of scheming as daydreaming, (l/n)?" his voice, full of disdain, though hidden through feigned sweetness. "Like a child as always. Go back to middle school?"

"Do better at volleyball?"

"I ought to kick the both of you out this court," Daichi says loudly. "Oh wait I can't speak to (l/n) like that. S-sorry!"

Tsukishima sneers, his lips frowning. He approaches the rolling ball, watching as it hits the wall and propells back towards his awaiting feet. When he picks it up, he steals another glance at you talking to Kageyama.

The King and the Brat. The most annoying combination in the entirety of Karasuno campus.

Somehow, seeing you next to Kageyama and being given the nickname as if the two of you were a pair sends a tight rope around his chest that causes it to ache a little. Tsukishima huffs it out, an unsettling in his bones.

Please don't look at me.

The ball flies into the air, and his palm raises just in time to make contact with the ball.

He sees you watch from the corner of his eye, a blurried silhouette, but your figure was familiar enough for him to recognize you. His heart beats a little louder.

🏐 —

No.

Shit. Fuck. No

God damnit. 74.

Tsukishima stares at his paper in horror. In his entire life, he has always gotten two digits on his scores. However, they had always been ninety onwards. Never in the line of sevens. He doesn't know if his horror is displayed across his face. He prays it doesn't—he would die if you saw his expression.

He leans sideways to the right, his eye darting towards the side to peak at your paper.

98.

The english language was something that was easy to learn but never easy in exams. This—despite boasting that english was the easiest subject—was his weakness.

You're too preoccupied to notice his existence. Good.

He turns around to look at the green haired boy.

"Yamaguchi." He whisper-yelled. "Tadashi."

Yamaguchi looks up. "Yes?"

This was it. Years of built up pride, intelligence, boosted ego— down the drain. As soon as he'd ask him the question, it would forever alter the image of himself towards his friend. Tsukishima was no longer the brainy four-eyes of the Karasuno Volleyball Club.

He would now be Tsukishima, the idiot four-eyes.

Maybe I'm overreacting.

He stands up and sits beside the empty chair next to Yamaguchi.

"How- What's your score?"

Yamaguchi looks puzzled as he glances at his paper. "E-eighty eight."

God, this is depressing.

"Um," Tsukishima scratches the back of his neck. "Could you help me with English?"

There it is. His face says it all.

"Don't you even—"

"You, Tsukishima Kei, asking for my help?" He laughs incredulously. "Are you sure? What's your score?"

"Don't want to talk about it."

"Aw, c'mon Tsukki." He pouts playfully like comforting a weeping baby. "I'm sure it's not that bad."

Tsukishima tells him in a low voice. He never thought he could hate Yamaguchi's laugh. But he did, right after he laughed at his score. It wasn't even a failing grade.

"You know who should tutor you though?" He puts his paper in his bag. "(l/n). She's good, y'know. I heard her speak english once. I thought she was from, uh, some foreign country or something."

"She's not even that good." Tsukishima takes off his glasses and wipes it with the corner of his uniform. "She's good with memory but she forgets it right after the quiz like a ditz."

Yamaguchi snorts. "She's the one who got the best score out of all of us."

"Yeah, no thanks. I'd never let her teach me."

"I think you're forgetting I'm right here in front of you." You turn around, placing your elbow and forearm on the back of your chair and look at Tsukishima. "I can teach you."

Tsukishima scoffs. "No thanks. I'd rather repeat freshman year."

"Are you sure?" you pout, placing your chin on the back of your hand. "I can teach you, little Tsukishima."

"I'm not little."

"Yeah but your brain is."

"Yamaguchi, help me out here."

He can't ask for your help. Never ever. Never will he ever ask for your help. Tsukishima can study this himself. He's always studied by himself. He's never needed anyone, and certainly not you. He was independent, cunning as everyone says. Tsukishima does not need tutors.

Up until now.

"Please help Tsukishima study," Yamaguchi looks at you. "He's too prideful to ask but he really needs your help."

Tsukishima stammers. "T-that's not what I meant!"

"Aw, is this true?" You're taunting him. He feels like a child.

"I can study by myself. Fuck off."

You smile at him. In a way that he can't read. It was soft, almost kind, like you wanted to help him wholeheartedly and wanted his english to improve. Then he looked into your eyes and all the kindness in your smile had been washed away by this pity in your eyes that you enjoyed. Tsukishima huffs.

"No need to be shy about asking for help, little Tsukki," you coo. "We'll study in the locker room while everyone else plays. You're skipping practice today."

Tsukishima zips his bag and stands up. He towers over you, covering the sun that blinds you through the glass window. He looks down at your eyes—teasing, condescending eyes. His lips are turned to a frown, which makes you smile even more.

"I'm not skipping practice."

"Too bad. You are. You know, if you let me help you, you'd stop having that distraught face everytime you get your english paper." You take a step closer, neck bent backwards to look up at him. "Yeah, I saw your face."

Yamaguchi nudges his arm. "C'mon, Kei. Ask for her help. You know you need it. Don't be so prideful."

Tsukishima growls. He doesn't say anything yet, all the confidence in him washed away by a score that wasn't even a failing grade. His palm rubs the space between his eyebrows and mumbles:

"Help me."

You lean in, ear towards him. "Couldn't hear that. Sorry?"

"Help me study."

"Are you commanding me or asking?"

"Please help me study."

"Don't mumble, Tsukishima."

"Damn it!" He groans. "Please help me, dearest (l/n)." His voice drips in sarcasm, peering at you through his scratched lenses. "Help me get a better grade at english. Help me stop myself from strangling you! Idiot!"

You lean back, the bottom of your spine resting on your table as your left hand props you up. Tsukishima is almost seething, his eyes widened a little as his anger seethes through his nostrils. You hum, pretend to think, then slap his right cheek twice lightly.

"How kind of you to ask, little Tsukki." You wrinkle your nose at him, slinging your bag over your shoulder. "See you at the locker room."

When you leave, his head turns to Yamaguchi who smiles innocently. Tsukishima almost strangles him instead.

🏐—

The boys are thirty minutes late to practice. Including Daichi.

"It's the sequence of the words, Tsukishima," you point your pen at his test paper. "The spelling's no problem. You're good at it. It's just with how you've formed them together."

They all sit behind the two of you, watching silently. Tsukishima is red from embarrassment as he ignores them.

"What's so wrong about this sequence? It sounds correct."

"Just because it sounds correct doesn't mean that it is correct."

Hinata snorts. Tsukishima's head snaps at it. "Don't snort, dumbass. Last time I checked you got a twenty at your exam."

"You hit a nerve there, Shoyo," Kageyama giggles.

You sigh and slap your hands at your thighs. "Sawamura-san, why are you guys even here?"

He stammers, his back straightening as he fixes his bag on his left shoulder. "Jus–Just wanted to make sure you two will be fine. Let's go guys."

When they leave, Tsukishima relaxes in relief. He stares intensely at his notebook, figuring out the correct answer. You try not to laugh at him, but the sight was entertaining; seeing him suffer brought your heart at ease.

"Figured it out, moron?" You bring your own notebook out, flipping it to the last page you'd written on. "It's really not that hard."

"Shut up, (l/n.)" he says. You make a small sound, similar to "okay!" As you begin to write down on a blank page.

And you're like that for a few hours.

Tsukishima answers the questions you've written for him, and when he asks you for help, you cordially help him without telling him the answers. Then you both go back to formidable silence, doing your own perspective works.

He almost enjoys this newfound environment created with you. Somehow, his body is more tranquil, but at the same time his mind is racing, because you're here. Tutoring him. Tsukishima has always believed that he was one step ahead of you, making sure you were unable to catch up with him. But now he's slipped from that step and you've caught up and you're deriding him.

Nonetheless, you're his only hope right now.

He looks at you.

Your hair is tucked behind your ears and your teeth are currently creating dents at the eraser of your pencil. You're concentrating, seeming like you've forgotten that he's sitting in front of you. And Tsukishima's eyes are extremely blurred, but when he looks at you through the gap between his glasses and forehead, your face was somehow clearer.

"Are you a dog?" he raises a brow. "Don't chew on your pencil."

You huff like you're being scold and place your pencil down. But the chewing didn't last a second as your bottom lip is now tucked between your teeth. Tsukishima rolls his eyes.

"Here," he flips his paper and shows it to you. "Did I do it correctly?"

You take the paper from him and read it. He hopes you're at least slightly impressed, that you're not arbitrating his answers nor think they're half-assed. When your red pen moves into a slant, the corner of his lip twitches upwards. But when you circle the number, he has this urge to shove that pen into your eye.

"Hm, not bad. But not enough." you flip the paper.

70.

Four points less.

"Damn it." You can tell he's disappointed at himself. "You suck at teaching."

"Excuse me?!" Your eyebrows furrow. "Hey, I've spent the past four hours teaching you here, stickhead. The sun's almost down!"

"Do you have to go home already?" He asks. You shrug. "Then we can stay here until they're done with practice."

"Tsukishima, I have freshly cooked doburi waiting for me at home. Do you know what donburi is? Do you know what it tastes like while it's still hot? Fucking donburi, Tsukishima." You whine. "Would you like to study at my place instead?"

You seem to not have processed what you've offered, but Tsukishima has. He's surprised at your comment, watching you look so desperate to get home and eat that "fucking donburi." He waits for a moment until you realize and you do, but it seemed like you didn't care when you lean back and raise a brow.

"Well?"

"Sure."

His quick, almost unhesitant compliance surprises you. Tsukishima adjusts his glasses and brings his headphones out as you both head out the door. You lock it behind you, with Tsukishima already walking ahead.

You pass by the gym. "Sawamura, everyone, we're heading out!"

Tsukishima appears beside you. "We're going."

"To where?" Yamaguchi approaches you both. "Are you going to eat out? Ooh, can you bring food back here?"

"We're going to her place to study." He answers. "We can't come back."

The others seem to hear what he said, because Hinata yells: "What kind of studying are you going to do, Stingyshima?"

"Something that your tiny shit-for-brains can't comprehend." He retorts. "Focus on your receives, squirt!"

You wave to everyone and catch a glimpse of Yamaguchi's smile. You roll your eyes at him and poke your tongue out.

🏐 —

The way home was quieter than you expected.

Mainly because Tsukishima had his headphones on and all you hear was your un synchronous footsteps on the stoned sidewalk. You take small looks at your peripherals to see what he's doing. And, well, he's walking... like every other normal person.

But you're walking side by side and there's this space between you that's so close but also so far away. You feel his heat touching the fabric of your shirt, his hand twitching and just barely grazing yours. Then he speaks:

"You walk like a penguin," he says. "Why are you like that?"

"Why are you so annoying?" you roll your eyes. "I don't point out how you walk."

"That's because there's nothing wrong with my walk," he puts his headphones down, hangs them around his neck. "What? Got a stick up your ass or something?"

"I'll stab you with that stick."

"Gross."

You turn a corner and he follows suit like it was normal for him to follow you around. When you stop in front of your gate and unlock it, he bore no unhestiance as he removed his shoes and entered your home.

There was no one else around. And as soon as Tsukishima entered, you disappeared in his vision. Although, he hears you yell from afar: "Set your bag wherever. Stay in the living room though!"

He assumes you're either changing your clothes, getting a bowl of donburi, or both. He obeys, sets his bag on the floor and sits cross legged on the carpet of your living room, taking his notes out. He sees the sun inching away behind the roofs of the houses near by, waiting for you patiently.

And then his eyes roam to picture frames.

Never would he think that a picture of you smiling would be so endearing. That smile of yours, painting you an angelic aura, like people would never expect that you'd be the devil's descendant. Nonetheless, you were still beautiful.

The picture was you in a ponytail, face doused in sweat; the background, although blurry and dark, looked familiar. But Tsukishima was more focused on your gleaming smile, the way your eyes are almost closed and your lips were pale and your teeth were shiny.

"Hey, douchebag," you sit beside him despite the free space on the opposite of the coffee table, setting down two bowls of donburi. And yes, you had changed your clothes into something comfier. "Let's eat and study."

He never expected that you'd get him a bowl, thought that he'd have to ask or drop hints of him wanting donburi. He takes it though, and it is freshly cooked. He now understood your eagerness to go home.

An hour passes by.

The bowls are empty and set aside. Tsukishima's notes are scattered, hair disheveled from him constantly running his fingers through them. That string of hatred between you has been put aside as you both seem to tolerate one another through this session.

"Tsukishima," you say, almost sternly, placing two cartons of strawberry milk on the table. "It's easy to determine an adverb in Japanese. It's no different in identifying it in English."

"I know that, dumbass. What are you, a consciousness?" He takes his box, taking the plastic off the straw and shoving it on the circular foil. "Gimme yours."

He takes your carton and shakes it before doing the same and handing it to you. You blush vehemently, murmuring your gratitude and wrapping your lips around the paper straw.

Tsukishima's eyes wander out of boredom, tracing every corner and every ridge of your home. Until his eyes land on the sliding door to your backyard and catch a glimpse of that familiar blue and yellow ball.

"You play volleyball?" he queries, both his eyebrows raising.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Back in middle school."

"Bet you were shit at it."

"I was a middle blocker."

Tsukishima's back straightens, staring at you in hidden surprise. "At that height?"

"I'm not that short! Asshole," you throw your pen at him. He catches it with ease, setting it beside his notebook.

"Why aren't you in the women's volleyball club, then?" his brow raises. "Too short? They didn't take you? Failed the tryouts?"

You look down at your fingers, covered in peeled up skin and charred fingernails. You feel embarrassed, avoiding his eager stare. You sense his want to know your reason, radiating off his eyes.

"Not saying," you push yourself up, now standing in front of him. Tsukishima's eyes follow you, trailing uo from your thighs up to your neck, his irises darkening until he meets your gaze. "Get up. Time to go home."

"Let's play."

You stammer. "W-what? It's late."

"And I want to see you play." Tsukishima stands, hovering over you. "It's only nine in the evening."

You purse your lips, arms going limp on either side of your tired body. Though despite being worn out, you walk towards the door and slide it open, being greeted by Miyagi's brumal air that raises the hairs on your body. Tsukishima tugs on the sleeves of his sweater, covering half of his fingers, before following you out.

Barefoot in the evening, with the moon casting a pearlescent glow on your enervated bodies, the thump of the leather ball is in sync with your beating heart; and at each thump, it seems to wake Tsukishima up more.

"Tell me why you're not in the women's volleyball club," he sets it towards your direction.

"No." Your wrists join, your right fingers placing themselves on top of your left fingers, both thumbs settled side by side as your wrist ricochet the ball towards him. "It's none of your business."

Tsukishima catches it with ease. "You're lame."

You scoff, returning the ball. "I am not."

The blue and yellow ball floats into the evening air, the bright colors darkened by the stygian sky, only luminated by the moon and the lights outside your backyard. Tsukishima sets it to you again. "Listen, I don't really care about whatever your reason is. I just want to know."

You huff. There's no harm in telling your enemy a secret of yours, right? It's not like he was popular enough to go on and tell people. And like he said, he didn't care.

The ball comes in contact with your wrists. "I got injured. Well, not seriously injured. I can still play but I'm not as good as I used to be." Tsukishima catches the ball and rests it on his hip, listening to you explain. "I actually got a surgery at my calf."

You lift your pajamas just below your knee, showing the healed scar at the back of your calf. "The bone got dislocated 'cause one of my teammates smashed onto my leg when she was trying to save the ball. She got injured too, actually."

"Obviously," he retorts, now staring at your calf. Something about Tsukishima staring at your scar seemed too intimate as it should be, staring at your bare skin. His blonde hair drapes over his forehead, glasses glinting in the moonlight. "So where do you struggle?"

"Blocking. I can't jump properly." You scratch the back of your neck. "I can set though. Just, it's not in my heart."

"It's just a club," he says. "Play whatever position you want." Tsukishima sets the ball to you again.

"Just a club, huh?" You smirk. "Why'd you fail your test?"

"Because I was thinking too much of what I was gonna do when I'm at court again."

"And it's just a club."

"What's it to you?" He snaps. "At least I'm in the Volleyball club. Have I taken your dream?"

"You're a child."

"Yeah yeah. Join the club or whatever. Don't care if you don't or you want to."

You set it back to him again. "I want to."

Tsukishima senses your melancholy longing for the sport, sees your disheartened look as you think about all the chances you've lost. His heart twinges just the slightest, holding the ball between his slender hands. He almost pities you.

"Tell you what," he sets it to you. "If I pass the retest tomorrow, I'll help you with your blocking. If not," he shrugs, catching your return, "good luck with your life."

"You sound like this is a once in a lifetime opportunity." You roll your eyes.

Tsukishima hopes he passes the retest tomorrow.

Mainly because it was import to him to ace it. Partly because he wanted to see you on court.

🏐 —

100.

You read Tsukishima's answers. In the fluorescent lights, his neat handwriting presents to you all the knowledge he's obtained from your chaotic teachings. He scoffs proudly, resting his lower back on the edge of his table.

"Not bad, nerd." You hand his paper to him. "And you beat me by two points."

"That's because you're an idiot," he sits down on his chair, though still facing you. "See you at the gym later."

Your brows furrow. "The gym's closed. Coach Ukai said today's rest day."

"But I'm not Coach Ukai," he fixes his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "It's just for today. And only today."

"Fine," you agree. You act like you're forced to say yes, but deep inside the vessels of your heart and every part of your brain, they throb with excitement.

So you meet Tsukishima outside the gym after class in a white shirt and gym shorts. He meets you there, clad in the same outfit, heat radiating off his body that warms your always cold flesh. For a moment he admires observes you, your attire unfamiliar but nevertheless appealing hideous.

When you enter, the court seemed bigger without the boys rousing around the court. It was quieter, no shoes squeaking, no balls slammed, no eager yelling. You set your bag down on the floor and see your untied shoe laces.

"Fuck," you mutter.

But before you could bend down, Tsukishima has already knelt in front of you.

His knee rests on the tip of your shoe, fingers ribboning the laces of your rubber shoes. Your eyes widen, body stiffening, and it felt like forever as he tied it (it was actually only 10 seconds).

"You're a dumbass for leaving your shoelaces untied." He makes no comment as to why he's decided to tie your laces, but you swear you see his ears turn a twinge of pink.

Tsukishima takes a ball and goes to the other side of the court. When you stand opposite from him, he rolls the ball to your direction.

"How long has it been since you've played?" he asks, loudly, voice echoing across the empty gymnasium.

"Uh, a year and a half." The ball bounces between your palm and the squeaky floor. "I'm a little rusty."

"You are rusty. Your receives were shit last night."

You growl at his tease.

"We're not gonna start with the blockings. We have to start from the beginning." Tsukishima positions himself, knees bent and apart, his hands on his knees. "Serve it."

So you do. You toss the ball into the air, your hand striking as it meets the ball, and it flies across the net. It goes outside.

"Idiot." Tsukishima laughs. "First, don't try to aim it to me. You don't want your opponents to save it. You have to aim it at an open spot inside the line. Second, don't serve too hard it goes outside."

"Okay!" You yell. And you serve again.

The ball grazes the net, but the momentum deems the ball to be inside the line. Tsukishima catches it and receives it back to your side.

Shit.

You race after the ball, joined wrists hitting it back to him. He dives, the back of his hand coming contact with the ball and it goes back to your court.

And it's high in the air, so you take the chance to bend your knees and jump, spiking it to his court.

Tsukishima blocks it.

He laughs. "You're horrible at this."

"I don't exactly have a libero to save it, don't I?" You retort.

Tsukishima smiles a little, laughing at your loss point. "Give me the ball." You roll it to his side. "I want you to try and block me."

"The net is higher than it is for girls, you know." You approach the net. "I'll have a hard time."

"The higher you jump, the better you can block the ball. And you'll even have an advantage against your enemies since you're practicing with a higher net, (y/n)." He dribbles the ball.

Tsukishima called you by your first name.

Not your surname, not some insulting nickname. Your first name.

Your knees weaken at the sound of his voice dropping the phonemes of your name.

But when he flings the ball upwards, you feel your body go rigid. And just before his incoming ball passes through the net, you jump, fingers stopping the ball.

But the ball doesn't go to his side, instead it falls down below the net, at your side. You land clumsily on your feet, ankle bending but not painfully.

"See, you got it. You just have to jump higher."

"Shut up, you stilt walking clown." Your leg throbs, shaking. "Hit it again."

"See this?" Tsukishima brings his hands in the air, his arms and hands bent inward. "You block like this. Don't straighten your arms. It sets the ball upwards and they get the point since you're last touch. Block me again."

You kick the ball to his direction. Tsukishima springs the ball into the air once more, his arm flinging back when he jumps and strikes the ball towards you.

Filled with adrenaline, you jump as high as you could, your chest as high as the edge of the net, arms and hands bent inward as you block the ball and ricochet it towards him.

He doesn't do anything and watches the ball roll outside the court. Tsukishima's eyes shoot up and look at you, the corner of his lips bent downwards in amusement.

"Not bad. Try harder though."

You snarl at him.

Hours pass and you're both drenched in sweat. His shirt sticks to his chest, his hair damp across his forehead. He's wiping his face with a towel and his glasses rest on top of his hair. You drink from your water bottle.

The sweat drips down the tip of his nose, golden eyes drowsy yet vigorous with adrenaline. His lips are parted to pant out tired breaths, his adam's apple bobbing, the veins of his arms protruding. And he's sitting at the same bench as yours.

You swallow the liquid in your mouth.

"One day of practice isn't enough to get me into the club, Tsukishima." you say, wiping your mouth. "Thanks for teaching me though."

Tsukishima sets his towel down. "It's whatever. Your receives are go-fine, anyway. And you're really not that tall enough to block. You're hopeless."

"I wish Hinata was here to say that so he could yell at you."

Hinata. Tsukishima feels something uncomfortable rise to his chest when you mention his name.

And it seems as though you have summoned that tiny tangerine devil.

"Oh, Kageyama! The lights are open, someone must be here," your head turns and see that Hinata's hair pokes out the door before his head fully goes in. His eyes roam around until they find you. "Oh! (y/l/n)-san!"

"Hinata," you smile kindly. "Why are you guys still here? There's no training today."

"Tanaka-san said we can train for as much as we want as long as we don't tell Sawamura." he hops inside, Kageyama following suit behind him, unzipping his jacket. "What are you doing here, Stingyshima?"

"None of your business." He replies, irritation dripping off his sharp tongue from the nickname. "What do you think we were doing? Playing kendama?"

"I wouldn't mind playing kendama," Hinata looks at Kageyama, who shrugs. "Can we join?"

"Hopeless child," Tsukishima rubs his face with his towel again. "It's getting late. We should go home."

His usage of plural rather than sigular denotes that his usual selfishness has been decreased due to your unwavering presence, having been spent multiple hours with you for the past two days than usual. Tsukishima has easily adapted to include you in whatever he was going to do next.

We should go home.

"Aw, well, can you leave us the keys?" Hinata asks you. Tsukishima shoves the keys in the small boy's hand. "Thank you, Stingyshima!"

Tsukishima slings his bag over his shoulder, approaching the exit. He looks at Kageyama. "Fix your sets, your Majesty. You wouldn't want to clip the wings of Karasuno now, would you?"

You can see the smirk formed in his face. Kageyama is fuming, his fists clenching. "You– I...– You piece of shi– Hnmgh– You dumbass! Hinata!"

"Why me?!"

Tsukishima walks away without waiting for you, although you follow suit behind him. And when you reach the school gates, he turns right rather than left—and his way home begins with him turning left.

Yours was to the right.

"You gonna walk me home?" You joke, finally catching up behind him. Your weary legs has made you walk slower, though enough to now keep up with Tsukishima's tired pace.

"Yes."

Tsukishima doesn't spare a glance at you. But you look at him in shock. Then you shoot him an upsidedown smile, humming.

"No longer Stingyshima, I see."

"I ought to leave you here and get kidnapped." He states bluntly, finally looking down at you through his peripherals.

"Why are you walking me home then?"

"Because I want to take a long walk."

"Yeah sure, whatever." Your hands meet behind you, hitting the top of your bottom at every step you take. "You wanted to take a long walk. Could've gone to the park, could've roamed around your street. But yeah, you're walking me home so you could have a long walk back to your home."

Tsukishima tuts, his arms crossing. "Are you implying something, (y/n)?"

Your first name. Again.

"Oh, I'm not implying anything!" Your eyebrows raise, looking fully at him. And Tsukishima turns his head and looks at you as he walks. "I'm just stating what I've observed, Tsukki."

"Don't call me that."

"Okay!" You turn to your gate. When you reach inside the small box and pull on the lever of your door, you sense that Tsukishima is still standing behind you wth his hands in his pockets, watching you intently. So you turn around when the gate unlocks. "Yes? Do you need to use my bathroom first? Want a carton of milk or something?"

"No." He says. "Get in already."

You rest your back at your gate. "Tell me the real reason why you walked me home."

"No."

"So you lied to me earlier?"

"N-no."

"So what is it?"

Tsukishima sighs. Then he takes a few steps, approaching you and bends down so that his face would be equal to yours.

His scent is sweet, like freshly picked strawberries. And his lips, though thin, was soft and pink. And the tip of his nose grazes just above yours. And his golden eyes narrow to gaze at every speck of your irises. The corner of his lip turns upwards.

"That shut you up." He says. You blush, and he seems to taunt you. "Still want to play volleyball?"

His breath is hot fanning over your cold face. You can't help but nod. You swallow thickly from the close proximity that Tsukishima has created.

"Okay. Well, I still need help with english. And you obviously still need help with volleyball. So you reap what you sow. We'll help each other."

Tsukishima says those words like they're a command. Like they're being read from sacred scriptures. An event waiting to be happened for a prophecy to be fulfilled. Tsukishima's tone was flat but his voice deemed importance.

"Okay," was all you managed to let out through a breath. "See you tomorrow?"

Tsukishima stands up, eyes you up and down. Then looks into your eyes again and you swear that his gaze softens.

"See you tomorrow."

🏐—

A few weeks pass by.

At mornings, Tsukishima has come to pick you up and you studied on the way to Karasuno. You spend your lunches together, along with Yamaguchi, as well as Hinata and Kageyama who—while also bickering like children—listen to whatever you teach Tsukishima.

After classes, you find yourself joining the boys at the volleyball club, with Tsukishima helping you practice your blocks and receives. Though you notice that the boys take their strengths down a notch, which you are somewhat grateful for — because they truly are strong, and you're not ready to catch up to their level yet.

And at nights, Tsukishima walks you home with a milk carton in hand and sharp remarks in his mouth.

There's still a thick smoke of hatred that covers the both of you, that string of annoyance wrapped around your fingers. Yet as days pass by, that smoke has been thinning at every civil interaction. Albeit that annoyance still lingered.

And until today, that smoke has turned into this very light fog, until you begin to question why you hated Tsukishima in the first place.

Your phone vibrates.

tsukishima. Where are you? 8:32am

you. almost there. forgot my bag at home. 8:33am

tsukishima. Hurry up. It's cold outside. 8:33am

you. will do. sorry :| Read at 8:34am

Tsukishima is standing outside the gates of Karasuno, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed as you quickened the pace of your walk.

"You're so slow it's annoying," his eyebrows furrow. "Why'd you forget your bag? Idiot."

"You pressure me, douchebag." You flick the bridge of his glasses. He yelps. "Hurry. I want to study already. We have a quiz at 9."

When you and Tsukishima sit on your respective seats, you quiz each other with lazily scribbled flash cards. He seems to have absorbed the passed on knowledge and had answered the questions with ease.

So after the quiz, he seemed content; confident.

"How well did you think you did, beanpole?" You zip your bag.

"Well enough to beat your ass," he replies. Then, he does something new.

He smiles at you.

It wasn't a bright smile. Not energetic, but radiates some kind of light happiness. Seemed like a smile of gratitude.

You feel your cheeks flare.

After classes, you meet outside the gym as always, both of you changed into training clothes. Then you spend hours and hours jumping and tiring your wrists out, squeaking your shoes off the floor.

By the time the sun has set, Tsukishima was waiting for you again.

"Let's study."

Your eyes widen and you look startled. Tsukishima looks bored. "I'm pretty sure you got yourself covered for the rest of the year, Tsukishima."

"And I don't think you can train by yourself in volleyball," he adjusts his bag. "Let's just study. Reap what you sow."

"You keep saying that."

He ignores you. "Let's study at my place."

"E-excuse me?"

Tsukishima begins to walk to his direction. And despite your reaction, you follow him either way. "Let's study at my place for a change. I'm sick of your living room."

He says it like he's spent years hanging out in your living room. Your feet runs on the cobblestone to catch up with him. "But- What else are we gonna study?"

"Whatever I want."

His house wasn't actually that far from the campus. When you've turned a corner, he opens the gate and lets you in. When you enter his home, it's warm and clean, so you set your shoes aside and walk in your socks.

No one's home.

Tsukishima could've led you to their living room. Instead, he goes directly to his bedroom. And when you don't move, he looks at you through the door with a raised brow, as if to say "well? why aren't you getting in?"

So you do.

You sit on the edge of his bed, watching him unzip his jacket and set it aside. You decide to stop acting so wary and let you back fall to his bed, taking your phone out.

"So when are your tryouts?"

You look at him, placing your phone on your chest. "Next week. Michimiya was nice enough to let me try this late into the school year."

"I'll be there." He sits down on the other side of his bed.

"Oh," you're stunned. "Okay. Um, what do you want to study?"

You pull yourself up until your whole body is on his bed, sitting up and resting your back at his headboard. Tsukishima brings his legs to the bed, resting them beside your socked feet.

"Chemistry." This is new. "Can you run me through it?"

And you do. You take your notebook our and run him by all the lessons discussed for the past week. Tsukishima's pretends to listen but he actually doesn't.

Instead he's staring at your scar at your leg, up and down your very exposed thigh, but mostly at your scar.

You notice this immediately. "Tsukishima, why are you staring at my scar?"

"It's Kei," he looks at you, his hand resting just beside your calf, index finger twitching to trace the ridges of your scar. "Call me Kei."

Kei.

"Okay, Kei."

Your voice, filled with dulcets, his name sounding mellifluous as it rolls of your tongue. Tsukishima's heart beats wildly, and has decided to come with the terms that he hates you— because he likes you.

"Your scar looks... cool..." his index finger finally sets on the soft skin of your healed wound. You shiver at his featherlight touch.

And he's so near you now. As near as that time he walked you home and bent down to your height. And gods, he was so handsome. Even with his scratched glasses. Your mouth gapes the slightest, shaking hands reaching to remove the spectacles off his nose.

Tsukishima lets you. You see sweetness of his stare, all that hatred you used to see seemed to have melted and dripped from his sweat. This kind of Tsukishima is new– foreign, yet seemed right. Seemed destined to happen.

"Kei," you murmur. "What are you doing?"

"Is your skull too thick to process your environment?" his laugh leaves him in a huff, smirking.

"You're so eager for me to teach you something you're already good at so you could keep training me," your brows meet in the middle the slightest, a crease on your forehead that Tsukishima wants to wipe away. "Why?"

"Because you're good, (y/n)." He declares. "Your injury isn't stopping you to perform your best. You're just scared."

"Then why not just train me without me having to tutor you?"

"Because I don't want to lose these kind of moments." he whispers. "Jesus, (y/n), I like you. It's why I brought you here, for fuck's sake."

His lips are warm compared to his cold hands.

You gasp, though eyes fluttering shut, and your eyelashes tickle his soft cheeks. Your fingers wrap around his wrist as he holds your delicate face in the palm of his hands, careful not to hurt you as his lips remain planted on yours.

When Tsukishima pulls away, he's not far from you. His lips hover over yours, breathing your air, his forehead resting just slightly on yours. Your fingers come up to tangle themselves on his silky hair.

"Lose moments like what, make out with me?" you giggle. "If you wanted to make out, Kei, just tell me."

"You never shut up, do you?"

His lips meet yours again in an open mouthed kiss, his tongue unabashed to graze your shy muscle. You hum in surprise, feeling yourself fall backwards when he gently cradles your head to rest on his sweet-scented pillow.

Somehow, you did meet up with your end of the bargain, only with something better.

Something better– like his hips slanted against yours as his mouth spreads shameless ardor across your body.

Something better– like how he whispers your name against your lips like a sacred prayer before he kisses you again carefully.

Something better– like a newfound relationship with Tsukishima Kei, someone you swore was your enemy, but now was someone you could spend your days with in his bed getting warm in ways fire couldn't.

Tsukishima looks into your eyes, tells you his secrets through his dilating pupils. His calloused fingers push your hair behind your ears, and then he kisses your forehead, followed by silk petal kisses on the plump of your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and then your lips.

His hands wander beneath your shirt, palms no longer cold as they're heated by the fervor of your body.

"You're so pretty."

"What a sap." you tease. "You're in love with me."

"I am." His nose rubs against yours lightly. "I so am. I'm in love with a dumbass. My ego has exploded."

You hit his face with a pillow.

reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated!

[formulawolff]

"just one dance" - t.w.

pairing: horner's daughter!reader x toto wolff

word count: 1.9k

warnings: toto lusting after a woman thirty years younger than him (what's new on this blog lmfao), sexual references, maybe some cursing (idrk), mentions of drug use, alcohol use, flirting, banter, yadayadayada

a/n: i played "here" by alessia cara like 20x on repeat while writing this fic. so we could say that this fic is veryyyyy loosely inspired by that song. also! this was a request by an anon! i hope y'all enjoy! <3

"come on," the words as slurred as he rolls his eyes, "come dance with us!"

bringing your hand to your mouth, you stifle a giggle, "max, for the last time, i am not joining the horny middle school grind circle you guys have going on over there."

"it's not a grind circle," he puts his hands on his hips, "i would say it's more like a mosh pit."

which, given the occasion, was not quite appropriate either.

at the moment, you were perched at one of the many elegant banquet tables, the rigid surfaced draped with a thick, cream-colored tablecloth. adorning the table were numerous vases, filled to the brim with floral arrangements, their fragrance oh so sickeningly sweet.

the plates, utensils, and other various dining ware were now cleared, only leaving numerous wine glasses, their crystalline stems glimmering in the dim light, swathed by the golden hue of the chandeliers as they sparkle above.

this was the annual fia prize gala, one of the most coveted events of the season. it was the showcasing and peacocking of sheer and utter wealth, as the drivers got to pull up to in their luxury vehicles, their keys handed off to the valets. every individual was dressed head to toe in designer clothing from nearly every brand possible, from christian dior to saint laurent.

you lost track of the amount of rolex watches, cartier jewelry, and hermès bags you noticed throughout the course of the evening.

the main event wrapped up hours ago, leaving the rest of the night for the drivers, crew members, mechanics, engineers, executives, and team principals to mingle and dance. and well, consume copious amounts of alcohol.

and well, perhaps do a few lines in the restroom. or light a joint outside. maybe even pop a few pills.

with the exuberant amounts of cash involved with events like this, there were surely some illicit affairs. ones that the fia ignored, simply turning their heads.

if they didn't see it, it didn't happen.

after all, you were in monaco. it was like las vegas in a way.

what happened in monaco, stayed in monaco.

and here max verstappen was, three-time world champion, standing before you, so drunk he could barely walk, begging for you to come join him on the dance floor.

too bad your phone was almost dead.

this would have been a prime opportunity to record what was unfolding before you. it would have fed the max girlies all over instagram and tik tok for months.

glancing over max's shoulder, you pick out lando, oscar, charles, and carlos. they were apart of the large formation, jumping up and down, barreling into one another. alexandra, rebecca, and lily linger around the group, their gowns swishing as they laugh, their cheeks dusted with a bubblegum pink glow.

a drunken mosh pit with a bunch of sweaty men? no thank you.

but gossiping with the girls? that was more your speed.

"my dad would have a stroke if he caught me with you guys," you simply shrug, sipping on your wine, "and what if something happened to my dress? we have to return this, you know."

"ugh," the dutch driver groans, "you're no fun."

"hallo, max," a new voice cuts in, thick with an accent you can't quite place your finger on, "congratulations on your accomplishment this year!"

shifting in your chair is none other than torger christian wolff, better known as toto wolff, team prinicipal of mercedes.

your heart skips a beat as your eyes drink in the sight of him, the way his crisp tuxedo fit him effortlessly. his dark brunette hair was messy, more than likely from the events of the evening. his bowtie was untied, hanging loosely around his neck. the first few buttons of the snowy white dress shirt were undone, exposing his skin.

fuck, was he a gorgeous man.

with sharp cheekbones, a chiseled jawline, and wide, beautiful coffee brown eyes, he knew that he was attractive, his aura brimmed with nothing but sexiness and dominance.

his hands land on the chair beside you, pulling it out as max rambles, the words drowning out in your ears.

you were more focused on his stature as he sits to your right, his thighs spread in the chair, a hand running through his hair.

"is there a reason why i haven't seen you on the dance floor?"

due to the excessive volume of the music, his mouth hovers by your ear. a shiver runs down your spine as his eyes lock with yours, lips forming a radiant smile, flashing his perfect pearlescent teeth.

"cat got your tongue? or are you just as intoxicated as maxie boy over there?"

"neither," you counter, straightening in your chair, "just not really interested, that's all."

"did daddy not give his precious diamond any dance lessons growing up?"

your father was none other than christian horner, team principal of red bull racing, sworn enemy of toto wolff.

quickly, your eyes scan your surroundings, in an attempt to pick out your father among the throng of people. to your dismay, you cannot find him.

which, in this case, could be a good thing.

if he saw toto speaking to you? oh fuck. it would be game over. you'd probably be grounded at your big age of twenty-four years old. could parents even do that when you were an adult?

you didn't really want to find out.

yet, you couldn't turn down a few moments with the team principal.

after all, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

why not seize it?

for most of your life, you obeyed every single one of your father's wishes. you maintained your distance from the red bull drivers, careful not to get too close. you stayed out of the spotlight, ensuring that no negative publicity ever came his way. as much as you yearned to get to know members of the mercedes team or crew, you shied away, maintaining the promise that you would never befriend a rival.

so, for this one night, you could be a little selfish.

just this once.

even if it involved your father's biggest foe. the bane of his existence. the man he spoked about so bitterly for years on end.

"i was offered dance lessons, actually," your voice is melodic, like an angel's from the heavens above, "i turned them down. opted for horseback riding instead."

"so you know how to ride?" the team principal runs a tongue along his lower lip, his brow slightly raised, "well, i have an offer for you. one dance with me, and then later you can show me how well you can ride."

"and what am i going to be riding?" you inquire, folding your arms across your chest.

the corners of his lips curl into a devious smirk, an emotion glinting within the mocha depths as he leans in, "my cock."

heat flourishes into your cheeks, seeping all throughout your body. as your mind scrambles, struggling to formulate some sort of witty response, the team principal nods, "not expecting that, were you? i like seeing you like this, all flustered. it's cute."

"y-you're ridiculous," you manage to sputter out, hands instinctively shielding your face.

"not as ridiculous as any of those fools," his head motions towards the group of rambunctious drivers, "tell me, why aren't you with any of them? i'm sure maxie boy would love to take you on a date. lando too."

"just not interested," you shrug, regaining your confidence a tad, "don't get me wrong, they've asked. but i've always just turned them down."

toto cocks his head, his voice laced with a tease, "why? scared daddy is going to ground you for dating a driver?"

"i just rather wouldn't be involved with anyone of them romantically," you wave a hand, "it'd be too awkward if things didn't end up working out. could you imagine having to spend so much time at the paddock with someone who your dad could fire at any given moment? it'd be like walking on eggshells. i'd feel bad for any poor soul who wants to court me. they'd constantly be seeking my father's approval, on and off the track."

"well it's a good thing that i already know where i stand," toto shoots you a wink, your heart thudding against your rib-cage as he offers you his hand, "come on, just one dance. that's all i ask of you, gorgeous girl. one dance and then you can come right back over here, spending the rest of your night sulking in the corner."

"i haven't been sulking," you snort, accepting the gesture, "i've just been bored."

"how about you accept the other half of my offer then?" his accent is prominent, lingering in every word, "i've just been flirting, you don't really have to ride me. unless you know, you want to-"

"are you forgetting that we're in a very public space?" you hiss, elbow interlocked with his as you make your way to the dance floor, "people can probably hear you."

"good thing we're all drunk," he responds, the casual delivery sending you spiraling, "here, place your hand on my shoulder. i'll take this hand. the other will go on your waist."

as you follow his lead, you can't help but feel the pairs of eyes fixate on the two of you, murmurs rising above the music. yet, toto's focus is honed in on you, and only you.

"don't worry about them," he takes a step forward, your feet following in suit, "they're probably just envious that i'm with the most coveted woman in all of formula one."

"you don't mean that."

"oh schatzi," a chuckle rumbles in his chest, flowing from his lips, "do you not hear the things they say about you among the paddocks?"

"enlighten me then," your heart swells as his thumb tenderly kneads into your waist, fingers interlocking with yours.

his mouth is merely centimeters away from yours now, dimples apparent as his eyes glitter like the chandeliers above, "there's whispers that you are the most breathtaking woman in the world. the drivers talk about you all of the time, debating who would look the best by your side. you're a hot commodity. a prize to be won."

"people say those things about me?"

"would i ever lie to you?" toto arched a brow, "i have no reason to."

"that is true."

there's a twinge of resentment that bubbles up in your stomach as the song ends. oh how this moment ended too soon.

way too soon.

"still no sign of your father," toto's voice is hushed, barely audible over the music, "you think i could have you for just one more song? after that, i promise i'll leave you be."

"i think so," you feel a smile form the moment he pulls you in closer, the space between you crumbling away, "careful, mr. wolff. you need to maintain some sort of distance between us, remember?"

he shakes his head, fingers squeezing your waist, "right now, i could give any fucks what your father would think. he's lucky that i have some sort of self-control."

"and why is that?" you press, blood roaring in your ears as his head lowers, situated by your ear.

"because it is taking everything within me to keep myself from getting on my knees right this instant and lifting up that gown of yours."

[orionremastered]

hi! I was wondering how the bats would be with a reader who is disabled or has prosthetics? they're all just very protective of people they care about since...everything, and how maybe that could start to feel sufacating at some point? Or something, idk dude

(also-the way you write is realy cute and sweet for all of them, makes them feel a lot less heavy when they have someone to hold them <33)

Masterlist

Batboys with a Disabled S/O

Dick Grayson [Fully Deaf]

A gentle touch on your shoulder prompts you to slowly turn around, a smile stretching across your face when you realise your boyfriend's back from work.

You pull him into your arms, threading your fingers through his hair. Pulling away reluctantly, you give him a kiss on the tip of his nose.

But he's not smiling; only a sad smile that makes you tilt your head in a silent question.

Don't worry about it, he signs. Have a good day?

You nod, though your frown remains when he moves to the kitchen, always adamant that he cooks whenever he's home. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, frowning at the caller ID and puts the phone on speaker as he begins cooking.

Dick gets more and more angry as the conversation goes on, his hands waving wildly around the small kitchen, only stopping to return to the cooking.

Finally, he hangs up. You tap him on the shoulder and he turns, watching as you sign;

Who was that?

Dick's shoulders raise and drop. A case I'm working on. I'll figure it out.

You nod slowly, satisfied with his response.

Jason Todd [Fully Blind]

Mornings with Jason always start like this. They always start with you gently running your fingers across his face, mapping it out and imagining it in your head. Over his nose, his lips, his stubble.

"Did you clean the apartment?" you ask, lying on top of him as your guide dog sits next to you on the mattress. "I almost knocked one of your guns off the counter yesterday."

"I did," he murmurs. You rest your fingers on his lips and feel that they're stretched into a smile. "I'm sorry for letting it get messy."

"That's okay," you reply quietly, "Ollie picked it up before it hit the floor."

Ollie, your guide dog, makes a huffing sound beside you, causing you both to chuckle.

"Good boy," Jason says proudly, feeling him shift underneath you, mostly likely to pat Ollie.

"You're both good. Too good, maybe."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jason asks.

"Hmm."

Tim Drake [Classical Ehlers-Danlos syndrome]

"Love? Can we go for a camping trip on the weekend with my friends?"

Tim turns his head slowly as he sits in his study chair. He taps the pen he's holding against his lips. "What happens if you get exhausted?"

"We can go back to the tent and rest."

"You can get bruises. A lot of bruises," he frowns, gesturing for you to walk to him. You comply.

"That's fine, they're just bruises," you respond, sitting on his lap. He begins gently drawing shapes on the bare skin of your thighs.

"You could dislocate something," he says to you, quieter now.

"You know how to put it back. You do it for me all the time."

Tim's brow furrows at the reminder of having to put back in dislocated joints more often than he'd like. "Fine. But if you even start to get a little tired, you tell me. Okay?"

You rest your forehead against his and murmur, "Okay."

Damian Wayne [Prosthetic Arm]

"I'll take those—"

"Damian, I love you, but I can put shopping bags into the car just fine." This and many similar conversations have been going on practically since the start of your relationship. And while you do find it endearing that he cares, sometimes you just want him to treat you like you didn't lose your right arm in an accident.

The man scowls. "But—"

"I'm not going to hurt myself, really."

He watches you warily, weighing the outcomes of the situation. "Fine. Only the lighter ones."

You suppose it's better than not being able to do any of them. Still, he watches you like a hawk as you put the lighter ones in the back of the car he bought you (you protested but that man has the most selective hearing).

He closes the trunk/boot after the bags are inside.

"Can I drive?" you ask, hoping you'll get luck there too.

"No."

"I know how."

"No."

[thecomfywriter]

List of Fidgets / Mannerisms

For all the fidgety characters or characters with specific tells, quirks, or body language. You can use this list as creatively as you please! Sometimes, people have little body language tells when they’re lying, or they’re nervous, or flirty, or sometimes just speaking in general. Also, if you’d like to support me on ko-fi, you can click the link in my pinned post, or click here to directly visit my ko-fi page :) Anyway— without further ado… the list:

┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

Biting inner cheek

Biting lip

Biting tongue

Bouncing a leg up and down

Clicking a pen repeatedly

Collarbone thrumming

Combing through hair

Cracking knuckles or other joints

Drumming fingers on a surface

Fiddling with clothes (buttons, zippers, jackets, pockets, long sleeves, even the corners of clothing)

Fiddling with hair (twirling, pulling, running fingers through it)

Finger flicking

Finger fluttering

Finger tapping / thrumming against a surface

Humming or making soft noises

Jittering extremities (fingers, hands, legs, feet)

Kissing teeth (when your tongue runs along your teeth, sometimes making a slight squealing noise)

Licking lips

Moving tongue around mouth

Nail biting

Pen tricks (around the finger, tapping, thrumming, tossing)

Picking at nails or skin

Playing with jewellery (pulling on chains / necklaces, pushing up brackets, twirling rings around fingers, removing and putting them back on, etc.)

Popping gum

Puffing out cheeks

Pulling face down with hands

Resting tongue under teeth (I personally do this one— I prefer resting my tongue in the grooves under my canines whenever I’m thinking)

Rocking back and forth

Rolling out ankles

Rolling out neck (like a little 360 of the head around the neck; a head rotation)

Rotating wrists

Rubbing chin / jaw

Rubbing collarbones

Rubbing hands / arms

Rubbing neck / nape of the neck

Rubbing temples

Scratching (head, arms, etc.)

Scrunching nose

Shaking a leg while sitting

Smiling / smirking a lot (while speaking, resting face, etc.)

Spinning objects (like a fidget spinner)

Sticking out tongue

Stretching arms upwards (can be a general stretch or a clasp around the wrist and then stretch)

Stroking hair, a beard or mustache

Swaying

Talking with only one side of the mouth (character might have an asymmetrical face if they do this, fyi)

Tapping feet

Toe tapping

Tossing, turning, or fiddling in hand (keys, paper, bags/purses, bottles, etc. I’ve picked up leaves off the ground to fiddle with them sometimes)

Twirling hair

Twisting fingers or hands together

Typing or tapping on a phone or other device

Unconsciously doodling on paper

Whistling

Wiggling eyebrows

Winking (🥲 apparently I wink a lot when I speak. It gives off the wrong message a lot of the time WHOOPS but yeah, pro tip if you have an accidentally flirty character. Speaking from experience 😔)

Wringing hands

Yawning or stretching excessively

┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

Hopefully that helps when writing fidgety characters! It’s the way I do a good 80% of the things on this list lmao. Okay anyways— cheers! Happy Writing!

[de4dlyniightshade]

꩜ LIFT YOUR EYES

꩜ pairing: spencer reid x afab!reader

꩜ rating: 18+, mdni!

꩜ word count: entirely too many. (9.3k;-;)

꩜ warnings/contains!: smut, virgin!spencer, sub!spencer, softdom!reader, loss of virginity, piv, handjob, mirror play(?), dacryphilia, slight body worship, pwp, unprotected piv(don't do that.), creampie, nervous spencer, marking, smidge of orgasm denial, praise, pet names, mention of and use of plan B, silly love confessions, no use of "y/n"!!, i think that's all

꩜ lyric: "lift those eyes, look into mine, cause i can guide you, i can guide you"

© to de4dlyniightshade. no translations/reposts!

[WARNING! - explicit sexual content! proceed at your own risk!]

꩜ A/N: this is proofread but i'm a moron and can't read so no promises🤷‍♀️ ALSO! be nice to me i haven't written a single thing in like a good few years</3

Spencer had been acting off ever since he had drunkenly revealed that he was still a virgin on one of your group nights out. Being a profiler had many benefits, and this was definitely one of them. He was more withdrawn from all of you, had been keeping to himself, and kept conversations to a minimum. He was pretty inconspicuous with the ways he did it, but you picked up on it immediately. You couldn't blame him; he had been backed into a corner by Derek and Garcia, pressing him for a sex story, but what they didn't expect was his answer to be that he didn't have any, with Spencer leaving shortly after, the whole atmosphere being unbearable for him.

You acted the same with him; of course, being a virgin was nothing to be ashamed of, and you didn't see him any differently; he was still Spencer, and honestly, it didn't surprise you; he certainly wasn't the type to sleep around or have one-night stands, and you were sure you would've heard of an ex-girlfriend by now, which you hadn't, not a single mention, so you put two and two together and just assumed the others would do the same, but unfortunately not.

If you were being entirely honest, the fact that Spencer was still a virgin only made you more attracted to him. You were already borderline infatuated with him, but this newfound information only heightened it. You didn't really know when your crush on him developed, but it developed rapidly, your small crush turning into an intense desire. You couldn't stop thinking about him, thinking about how easy he would be to render a babbling mess, how he would be so sensitive and reactive to every little touch, and how pretty he would sound moaning your name. You had to force yourself to shake your thoughts, trying to focus on what you were actually supposed to be doing, which was mundane work tasks, and it didn't help that Spencer somehow always ended up in your line of sight. 

You managed to push through the rest of the day without much more zoning out and you were packing up your things to go home for the night when Spencer approached you, stopping what you were doing to give him your attention. He seemed on edge, his body language was stiff, and he wouldn't look you in the eye. "Can I uh- , do you mind if I come over?" He spoke meekly, and honestly, if he'd been any quieter, he'd be whispering.

You just smiled, ignoring his strange behaviour, knowing there had to be a reasonable explanation that you'd soon find out. "Of course, what's the occasion?" You pulled your bag onto your shoulder, ready to leave with him without much question. You didn't want to turn him down considering the recent events, and you also just wouldn't. You loved hanging out with Spencer; he was a breath of fresh air, completely honest with you, and just great to be around.

"Oh uh no occasion, just haven't hung out in a while." He gave you that straight smile he did all the time, still avoiding your eyes for the most part. You hummed in response as you motioned for him to follow you, making your way to the elevator, Spencer following close behind, your joint footsteps echoing through the empty space, the two of you being some of the last people in the whole building, which was eerily quiet.

Spencer didn't say a word to you on the whole way down in the elevator or on the walk to your car, and still not a peep halfway through the car ride to your apartment, you decided to pry a little—not a lot, but just to see if he'd crack and spill whatever it was that was bothering him.

"what's up? You're an unusually quiet Spence." You took your eyes off the road very briefly to glance at him, seeing that he was in a world of his own, staring out of the window, your voice breaking whatever his train of thought was as he looked back at you with a dazed look on his face, taking a moment to process what you'd asked him.

"Nothing's up; why would something be up?" His tone wasn't defensive, like you were accusing him of something, which is yet another reason why you knew something was definitely up. There had never been a single time where someone had insinuated something was up with him and he didn't get defensive about it, but you just took his word; he clearly didn't want to talk about it, and you weren't going to force him to yet.

"No reason, Spence, just thought I'd ask." You flashed him a sweet smile, and he nodded, going back to completely ignoring your presence. Something was seriously going on with him; you just needed to figure out what it was. Honestly, it was eating you alive the whole way to your apartment. He had never been silent for such a long period of time in the entire time you'd known him, and it was unsettling.

Once you reached your apartment, you unlocked the door and shuffled in, switching on a light before locking your door behind you just to be safe. You hung your bag on your coatrack and shrugged off your jacket, Spencer doing the same, both of you removing your shoes in unison before you turned and made your way to your sofa. "Wanna watch a movie?" you asked as you plopped down on your designated corner of the couch, looking over at him and awaiting his response.

"Yeah, sure," Spencer smiled. Following suit to your sofa and sitting at the opposite end, you furrowed your brows at his choice of seat. He always sat in the middle when he was here. Always. As if all the other unusual behaviour wasn't evidence enough that something was going on with him. This certainly topped it off, which prompted you to begin your interrogation, ready to present your extensive evidence.

"Alright, Reid, out with it. What's going on with you?" You turned to face him, your elbow resting on the back of the sofa as you stared him down.

"Nothing's going on with me? What makes you think that there is?" His tone was defensive this time, but not in an aggressive way; more in an accused way. His sudden change from in the car only further proved your point.

"You've been nothing but weird since you came up to me; you were completely silent the whole way here, and when I asked in the car what was up, you weren't defensive, which you've never done before; you hate when people insinuate something is wrong; you also haven't looked me in the eye this whole time; and finally, you're sitting on the opposite end of the couch." You finished your rundown by flashing a smile at him and raising a brow. You knew he couldn't deny any of it because you knew he knew you were right. It was your job, after all.

"Alright, fine, you got me, but it's nothing, really." Spencer finally met your eyes, his expression unconvincing. It wasn't nothing, and you knew it, but you just couldn't work out what it was on your own. You were good, but not that good.

"stop lying! I know it's not nothing, Spence. C'mon you can tell me. Promise nothing you can say will phase me."You shuffled closer to him as you spoke, now sitting in his spot in the middle. The sudden closeness of your body to his putting him under pressure.

"I don't know how to say it," he said softly, eyes fixed on his lap as he fidgeted nervously. His behaviour only made you more desperate to hear what it was. You'd never seen him so nervous before, so you knew it had to be good whatever it was, and you knew he had to get it off his chest asap. You also didn't think you could handle him being so quiet for a minute longer.

"Ugh, c'mon, just spill it; the anticipation is killing me," you giggled, trying to make him feel at least a little more at ease so he'd just get it out already. Spencer sighed, mentally preparing himself as he mustered up the courage to say what he was thinking.

"Okay, alright, you can absolutely say no, and we'll never talk about this again. It's completely your choice, of course. I would never try to force you to do something you didn't want to do, y'know. I completely understand if you say no; I won't take it personally. I just thought I'd ask just in ca-" You cut off his rambling with a loud groan, reaching out to hold his face with your hands and forcing him to look at you.

"stop rambling. say it. right now, Spencer Reid." You both sat in silence for a moment before he took a deep breath, closing his eyes before he finally said it. His words rendered you completely speechless as it all made sense; no wonder he was a nervous wreck.

"Will you have sex with me?"

The words bounced around in your head like a ping pong ball, repeating over and over and over again as you just continued staring at him. He cracked his eyes open to see the dumbfounded expression on your face, immediately regretting ever considering asking as he moved to get up.

"I uh- forget it, I'm just gonna go," he said, making a beeline for your door as you continued to sit in silence, watching him grab his jacket before you squeezed your eyes shut, letting out a deep breath.

"I will," you said, opening your eyes again to see him completely still, back to you, so you couldn't see his face. The only reason you hesitated was because you weren't entirely sure that you were awake. You'd been daydreaming about a situation just like this one only hours prior, and when you realised that this was actually happening and Spencer Reid was actually asking if you'd have sex with him, you knew you couldn't turn him down; you'd be a fool to.

"you will?" Spencer finally turned to face you, his doe-eyes meeting yours. You smiled at his sweet expression; he looked almost excited, and you nodded. "Course I will, c'mere," you said nonchalantly as you patted the spot next to you, and he nervously padded back over, sitting next to you before you reached out to tuck his hair behind his ear, his eyes meeting yours again.

"Is this about the other night?" You kind of already knew it was, and you weren't going to take it personally if the only reason he was asking was so he wouldn't be a virgin anymore. It flattered you honestly, the fact he wanted it to be you, that he felt comfortable enough to ask you and allow you to take his virginity.

Spencer sighed, "Yeah, I mean- not entirely, partly—I just don't want to have to tell another person that I'm still a virgin, but I do think you're pretty, of course! I'm not just using you," you let him ramble, knowing he felt the need to explain himself most of the time. You couldn't help but smile at his behaviour; he was always so put together and professional, and now he was completely erratic and hardly making any sense.

"You think I'm pretty?" You teased, pulling your lip between your teeth. Spencer then realised what he'd said; unable to backtrack, he opted for scrambling to explain, "I-I mean, yeah, you're stereotypically attractive; most of the population would be objectively attracted to you just based on a visual first impression." You couldn't help but laugh at his flustered state, moving to run your hand through his hair, the physical affection making him relax slightly.

"Can I kiss you, Spence?" You mused, your fingertips stroking the hair behind his ear. You already knew the answer to your question, but you wanted him to tell you that you could, that he wanted you to, you wanted his consent through the whole experience, making sure that he knew he could tell you if there was something he didn't like or if he'd changed his mind.

Spencer let out a shaky breath, hesitating for a beat before replying. "Please," he practically whined, his voice airy, and you felt the air shift. A whole different atmosphere filled the room as you gently moved your hand to his cheek, turning his face to you. You smiled, just staring into his eyes for a moment before you slowly leaned in, placing an experimental kiss on his lips, and he immediately returned it, which was then followed by another and another before your gentle kisses became open-mouthed, sensual making out, your lips slotting perfectly into his as he tentatively placed his hand on your waist while you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and pressing your body to his, your actions causing him to moan quietly into your mouth. The sound was sweet, like music to your ears, and you wanted more.

You tugged on the hair at the nape of his neck lightly, eliciting another moan from him, the pretty sound vibrating against your lips before you ran your tongue across his plush bottom lip, and he immediately knew what you wanted, opening his mouth to allow you to slip your tongue in, the feeling of your warm tongue exploring his mouth making him let out a whimper as he allowed you to completely dominate him, the sound awakening something in you as you moaned into his mouth before you broke the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips, you quickly manoeuvred to straddle his lap, your skirt riding up your thighs, mere inches from exposing your underwear.

You began pressing open-mouthed kisses down Spencer's jaw and neck before you were stopped by the collar of his shirt. You pulled away, moving to take ahold of his tie before you hesitated, looking up at him. "Can I?" you asked, almost desperately. Spencer looked back at you, already with a lustful expression on his face, his lips swollen and red, his hair dishevelled, and his cheeks flushed pink.

He nodded eagerly as you still held his tie in your hand. "Ah, ah, words, honey." Honestly, you didn't need him to say it, but you definitely wanted him to. The idea of him having to outright tell you what he wanted or what you could do to him made your stomach flip.

"Y-yes," you saw his Adam's apple bob as he gulped, a sly smile spreading across your lips as you leaned in to place a few stray kisses on his neck, stopping just below his ear. "Good boy," your voice was sultry and teasing as you loosened his tie, his breath hitched at your words, eyes closed as he let you do whatever you pleased.

You discarded his tie on the floor, moving to unbutton his shirt, kissing lower and lower with each button before kissing your way back up to his collarbones as you started kitten licking at his skin, hesitating before biting down—not too hard, of course, as not to startle him too much. Spencer gasped at the feeling, a whimper following after. His pretty sounds were so much better when they weren't muffled, and you had to resist the urge to just unzip his pants and pull your underwear to the side then and there.

"You sound so pretty, baby." You spoke into his skin, flicking your tongue out to lick his neck, your words making him whine. "P-please," he mewled. His voice was high-pitched and whiny as he pleaded with you to do something, anything.

"Please, what, baby? Tell me what you want." You placed a few kisses on his cheek before pulling away, your hands resting on either side of his neck and your thumb stroking his skin. He was a nervous wreck, muscles tense and eyes darting around the room, looking anywhere but your eyes. You let out an airy laugh while he gulped, trying to muster up the courage to tell you what he wanted. He was adorable, and it made you want to croon at him and take care of him, doing whatever you pleased without him having a say, but you knew you couldn't. This was about him, and you wanted his first time to be memorable in a good way.

"Aw, baby, it's okay; just relax; tell me what you want; I won't say no; this is about you and making you feel good, okay?" Your tone was soft and almost motherly as you caressed his cheek, trying to ease his nerves as best you could. Spencer looked at you with puppy eyes, his lips slightly pouting as he took a shaky breath, trying to force himself to relax.

"T-touch me, please." He whined, eyes still fixed on yours; you could've melted right there. The sight of his pleading eyes, swollen lips, messy hair, flushed cheeks, and bare torso beneath was enough to make you let out a muffled moan, surging forward to lock your lips with his in a desperate kiss, Spencer returning it with equal desperation.

You trailed your hands down his body, stopping to stroke his slim waist. His skin was hot to the touch and silky smooth, and the sensation of your hands caressing his skin made him whine into your mouth. You let your hand trail lower, stopping at the clear bulge in his pants. Your touch was feather light, teasing just a little to hear him whine again. You pulled away, watching him chase your lips before you fully palmed him over his clothes. The sudden stimulation made him gasp, jutting his hips upward into your hand for more.

"God, you're so fucking pretty, you know that Spence?" You rasped out, continuing to tease him, knowing that the material separating your touch from where he wanted you would get him hot and bothered. Your words made him whine and mumble something inaudible; your curiosity piqued.

"hm? What'd you say, baby?" You spoke softly, continuing to palm Spencer over his pants. His head was tipped back, resting on the back of your couch, his eyes closed and lips parted as he let out laboured breaths.

"I'm not," Spencer's words made you stop dead, the loss of stimulation making him open his eyes to look at you, only to find you already glaring at him, "What did you just say?" Your tone was stern, and eye contact was unfaltering as Spencer began to sweat under the pressure of your eyes and demanding tone.

"I'm not pretty," he murmured, shrinking in on himself and averting your gaze. You took his chin between your fingers and tilted his head to face you again. "Don't you ever say that to me again, Spencer," you ordered, watching him swallow thickly at your sudden change in demeanour.

"W-why?" he asked meekly, a doe-eyed, innocent expression on his face. You raked your hand through his hair, leaving a silence in the room before you answered his stupid question.

"Because, Spencer, you are pretty. Let me show you." You stood up from his lap as you spoke, Spencer gaping up at you with a confused expression on his features. His confusion was quickly squashed when you extended your hand to him, placing his hand in yours without question and standing up from your sofa, allowing you to lead him through your apartment to your bedroom. Once there, you kicked the door closed behind you before trailing Spencer to the side of your bed, pushing his shoulders down for him to sit on the edge before you switched on your lamp.

You moved to press a kiss to his lips, which didn't last nearly long enough for him, making him whine as you pulled away. You just smirked, moving to the side to get onto the bed with him, revealing the mirror directly in front of him, and he was about to ask why when you moved to kneel behind him, your hands smoothing up his back and stopping at his shoulders. You placed a kiss on his covered skin before you took his shirt in your fingertips, sliding it off of him, gently kissing his exposed skin as you did. Spencer assisted you in removing it before you balled the material up and discarded it on your floor.

You continued to kiss his soft skin, kitten licking and nibbling as you went, stopping at the junction at the base of his neck, looking up through your lashes to make eye contact with him in the mirror as you marked his skin, suckling and biting harshly, the sensation of your hot mouth on him making him whimper, feeling you smile against his skin as he did.

Once you were satisfied with marking his neck and shoulder, you shifted back, spreading your legs. Spencer whined at the loss of your body heat before you tugged him back into your chest, his head against your shoulder. Spencer watched you trail your hand down his body through the mirror, stopping at his waistband and bringing your other hand around his waist, starting to slowly and teasingly unbuckle his belt. Spencer swallowed in anticipation, his breathing picking up as you unbuttoned and unzipped his pants.

You trailed your fingertip over the outline of his hard length over his boxers, watching his brows snap together as his eyes fell closed, his mouth dropping open, a moan falling from his lips, the thin material of his underwear making the feeling much stronger than before. His reactions only egged you on, fully palming him and beginning to stroke him through the material.

"A-ah-p-please" Spencer mewled, reaching back to grip your thigh. You smiled, leaning your head into his, Spencer opening his eyes to see what you were doing. His eyes glazed as they connected with yours in the mirror.

"Don't look at me, look at you," you whispered into his ear. Spencer followed your direction, his eyes gazing at his own reflection. The sight was so foreign to him; he'd never seen himself like this; it made him feel vulnerable and shy, a blush blooming on his skin.

"Good boy, now lift your hips for me, honey," you breathed, hooking your thumbs into the elastic of his waistband. Spencer swallowed, letting out a shaky breath before he complied, raising his hips enough to allow you to tug his underwear and pants down to his mid-thighs, his cock springing free and hitting his pelvis. The sight made you pull your lips between your teeth, Spencer sucking in a breath and screwing his eyes closed at the cold air hitting his hot, sensitive skin.

"God spence, look at you, so fucking pretty, even got a pretty cock," you rasped in his ear, your lewd words making him gasp and blush a deep pink. You pressed a kiss to his cheek as he cracked his eyes open, watching you run your hands up and down his sides, the sensation tickling slightly, making him squirm against you.

"Can I touch you, baby?" You asked the question as if you didn't already know the answer; it was obvious, of course, but you still wanted to hear him say it. The question made Spencer roll his hips into nothing, subconsciously nuzzling his head into yours.

"Y-yes, please," he breathed, his eyes still fixed on his own reflection, watching as your hand trailed lower, painfully close to where he needed you, but you stopped just before your hand reached his length, drawing figure eights into the smooth skin of his pelvis. Spencer whined at your teasing, jerking his hips into your touch, urging you to touch him where he needed you, but you wouldn't; instead, you just let out a breathy laugh in his ear.

"I'll give you what you want if you do one thing for me, baby, just one. Can you do that?" Your voice was silky smooth, your light touch still on his skin, and Spencer nodded eagerly, "Yes!, yeah, anything! I'll do anything!" His voice was needy and whiny as he spoke, his head tipping back onto your shoulder as his eyes fluttered closed.

"Look at yourself and tell me you're a pretty boy," you said into his ear, your lips grazing his skin as you did. A smirk spread across your face when you heard his breath hitch in his throat, eyes opening to see you already looking at him, waiting patiently.

Spencer locked his eyes on himself, breathing deeply as his tongue darted out to wet his lips, his skin heating up, a pink tint spreading from his cheeks all the way down to his chest. You could see the hesitation in his eyes. You were inching your hand just slightly closer to remind him of his reward, mumbling "go on" under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

"I-I'm a p-pretty boy," Spencer stammered, his voice cracking and shaky as he spoke, instantly tearing his eyes away from his reflection, blushing impossibly harder, and his cheeks turning cherry red. You smiled wide, kissing his hot cheek. "That's my good boy, my pretty boy," you praised, finally taking his length into your hand. Spencer immediately let out a breath that formed into a whimper, relaxing against your body as you slowly dragged your hand up his shaft. Spencer let out a moan at the slightest stimulation, making you wonder what he'd sound like when you picked up the pace and stopped teasing.

You soon found out when you began languidly stroking his cock, not too fast but definitely not as painfully slow as you had been so far. Spencer was twitching in your arms, his hips stuttering into your touch while he let out strangled moans of pure pleasure. The whole experience was completely new to him; he'd never felt this good before, and it was going to his head, making him babble incoherently.

"Feel good, pretty boy?" You mused, your thumb rubbing his slit, and Spencer's hand flying to grip yours that rested on his hip, squeezing hard as he shuddered and whined, his back arching slightly. "S-so good, feel so g-good, d-don't stop, p-please don't s-stop," Spencer's voice sounded teary as he rambled, your hand continuing to stroke his length and your pace fastening slightly, drawing more of his sweet sounds from him.

"I wasn't planning on stopping, baby, don't you worry, I wanna see you cum," you finished your sentence by circling your palm over his tip, the action pulling a choked sob from him as tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to spill over any second. Your eyes were fixated on his reflection, mesmerised by the way his body writhed against you, his hips rutting gently into your hand and his mouth agape as his head rested on your shoulder, the close proximity of your faces having him practically moaning in your ear.

"O-oh, my god! f-fuck" Spencer moaned loudly, his hips rutting into your hand more harshly as tears spilled down his pink cheeks, quiet gasps falling from his lips. You could feel the dampness pooling in your underwear as you watched Spencer fall apart in your arms. He looked irresistible as he gripped your bedsheets with one hand and your hand in the other. His entire body was shaking and twitching as he got closer and closer to cumming.

"I-I-think I-" Spencer could hardly form a sentence, at least every second word being interrupted by whimpers and sobs. You hushed him, understanding exactly what he was trying to say and opting to stroke him faster, tightening your hold just slightly. The change made Spencer arch his back into your touch, a choked moan filling the room, his hips uncontrollably rolling into your hand as he chased his release.

"F-fuck, I'm gonna c-cum, please p-please d-don't stop, s-so close." His voice was high-pitched and whiny as he lost control, his body spasming as he let out choked sobs. When you felt his cock twitch in your hand, you stopped at the base and squeezed tightly, preventing him from cumming. The sudden denial and loss made him cry out, and a non-stop stream of tears ran down his face and neck. He became a babbling mess, unable to form a sentence, just begging over and over again for you to let him cum.

"Shh, baby, shh, I'm going to let you cum Don't worry, baby, just do something for me, okay?" You slipped your hand from his to smooth his hair off his forehead, the sweat that had gathered making it stick to his skin. Spencer opened his eyes, his lip quivering and his waterline still teary. "p-please please, a-anything! j-just p-please l-let m-me, n-need it so b-bad," Spencer sobbed. The sound broke your heart, hearing your pretty baby so distressed.

"Watch yourself cum for me, baby." Your voice was low as you spoke in his ear, your hand absentmindedly stroking his hair, unknowingly soothing him slightly. Spencer nodded erratically, shifting in your hold as his gaze fixed on himself, his heart hammering in his chest. The anticipation of finally getting his release made his whole body start short-circuiting.

"Such a good boy for me, baby," you praised, releasing your hold on his shaft and drawing back to your steady pace. The abrupt stimulation had Spencer moaning almost pornographically, and the sound was music to your ears, knowing you were the only person to have ever made him sound and feel this way, only making it so much more exhilarating.

Spencer's breathing became exasperated as he tried to say something, his voice failing him completely, but you knew what he was trying to say, his cock twitching in your hand, giving it away. Spencer's eyes were trained on his reflection—something so sinfully mesmerising about watching himself and seeing himself this way—not many people have the chance to see themselves so vulnerable.

"P-please, c-can I?" Spencer mewled. You think if you said no, he might've broken down right then and would never forgive you. You weren't going to, of course. You wanted this as much as he did, and as soon as you whispered those three golden words, it was all over.

"Cum for me."

Spencer cried out as he came, his eyes rolling back into his head. His orgasm hit him harder than it ever had before, his mind going completely blank. cum painted his abdomen and your hand in spurts, the thick white liquid coating his skin as you milked him of every drop, working him through his orgasm. You only stopped when he let out a whine of protest at the overstimulation and tried to squirm away from you.

"So proud of you, baby; you did so so well, my good boy," you said sweetly as you wrapped your arms around him, hugging him close to you while nuzzling your head into his and pressing gentle kisses to his hair.

You sat in silence while Spencer came down from his high, allowing him time to get his breath back. The sound was the only thing filling the room. You placed a chaste kiss on his shoulder before you spoke, "You know we don't have to have sex tonight if you don't feel up to it, baby; we can just cuddle; I won't mind." Your chin rested on his shoulder, eyes closed, while Spencer peeled his open, turning his head to look at you fully instead of through the mirror.

"No, I want to; I wanna at least try to return the favour." His voice was raspy as he spoke, all the noise he'd been making taking a small toll. You tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear, the same strand that seemed to be perpetually out of place, your expression softening at his words, "Spence, you don't have to return any favors; I told you at the beginning that this was about you, not me." You knew Spencer was persistent and wasn't going to give in easily, or even at all, but at least you offered.

"I want to, for you...and for me," Spencer averted your eyes, shy at admitting wanting this for his own trivial needs. His conformation that he did in fact want this and he wasn't just doing it for you because he felt guilty was convincing enough for you as you pressed a kiss to his lips. The sudden action caught him slightly off guard, but he quickly recovered, kissing you back with fervour, the anticipation of what was coming making him borderline intoxicated.

You broke this kiss, tugging Spencer's bottom lip with your teeth as you did, the action making him whine and chase your lips, desperate for more, but you just giggled, pulling away from him completely as you shifted up the bed, his eyes fixed on you as you moved to begin slowly unbuttoning your shirt. Your pace was painfully slow, giving him a bit of a striptease, the way he licked his lips and scanned every inch of skin that was revealed only egging you on further.

Once you popped the last button open, you slipped the material off your body, throwing it on the floor alongside his shirt. The sight of your chest, although covered by your bra, had the blood rushing straight to Spencer's cock, his eyes too busy on your boobs to notice you clearly staring at him until you spoke.

"Wanna touch them?" It could've just as well been a rhetorical question, with the answer already blatantly obvious. Spencer nodded eagerly; his keenness was endearing, and it had you squeezing your thighs together and biting down your lip.

You furrowed your brows when Spencer sat unmoving until you realised what he was waiting for; "C'mere then, baby" Your go ahead had him closing the space between you at light speed, and your eyes trailed down to see him fully hard again. It was a lewd sight, his pants pulled down just enough to free his length, his stomach still covered with his release, and his neck, shoulder, and collarbones lined with dark red and purple bruises.

Spencer noticed your staring and whined in embarrassment, feeling exposed while you were still mostly covered. You couldn't help but chuckle lightly. "You want me to take my skirt off? Will that make you feel better, baby?" Your voice dripped with honey, and the premise of seeing you in just your bra and underwear made Spencer's brain turn to mush.

"Y-yeah, please," he rasped, his eyes scanning your body from top to bottom, watching as you moved to kneel and reached behind you to unzip your skirt, pushing it down to your thighs before you leaned back on your elbows, your eyes connecting with Spencer's as you concealed a smirk.

"Help me take it off, pretty boy." You fake pouted and fluttered your lashes. Spencer's breath hitched in his throat, letting out a shaky breath before leaning over you, taking your skirt in his hands and slowly slipping it down and off your legs, dropping it on the floor before his eyes trailed back up to your covered crotch, attempting to swallow the lump in his throat at the sight.

"Fuck c'mere pretty boy," you leaned up onto your hand, placing the other on the side of his face and surging forward, pressing your lips to his with fervour. The kiss was sloppy and desperate as you pulled Spencer down to lay on top of you, taking his hand in yours and guiding it to your chest. He moaned into your mouth at the feeling of your soft breast in his hand, starting to knead and massage gently.

"Can I- can I take it off? please?" Spencer breathed, breaking the kiss, his hair falling around his face as he looked down at you. You bit down on your lip and nodded, arching your back off the sheets to allow his hands to slip around your body, fumbling with the clasps for a moment before they clicked open, your bra going slack on your chest. You weren't even surprised that he was also good at that.

Spencer let out a breath, watching you take the straps in your fingers and slowly pull them down your arms, finally revealing your bare breasts to him, his mouth gaping at the sight, seeing your nipples harden in the cold air, perking up and practically begging for him to suck on them, so he did, taking you by surprise when he leaned down, taking your nipple into his mouth without hesitation, wasting no time with testing the waters.

"Oh, fuck baby," you mewled, placing your hand on the back of his head and running your hand through his hair as he continued to suckle on your hardened nipple, letting out muffled moans into the soft flesh while he kneaded the other. You arched your back, pushing your chest into his face as he turned his attention to the other nipple, giving equal attention to both while you let out sighs of pleasure, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Spencer released your nipple once he was satisfied before burying his face in the crook of your neck, the movement causing his cock to press into your thigh, whimpering into your skin at the feeling. "Take your pants off, baby," you rasped in his ear, kissing his hair. Spencer immediately complied, pulling away and standing up from your bed before tugging his pants and underwear down his legs and stepping out of them, leaving them crumpled on the floor.

When Spencer turned around to climb back onto the bed, he was met with you completely naked, holding your underwear out to him on your foot, your lip pulled between your teeth. You giggled at his reaction, knowing that he'd be completely awestruck, not expecting you to be bare in front of him.

"Keep 'em if you like," you said teasingly, a sly smile on your lips as Spencer took the garment, dropping it on the floor along with the rest of your clothes and watching as you slowly spread your legs, completely exposing yourself to him, watching as his mouth dropped open at the view of your glistening pussy, feeling a little boost to his ego knowing that he was the reason you were wet.

"Are you going to come and fuck me or not, pretty boy?" You purred, watching him quickly climb back onto your bed, moving to be leaning over you again.

You could hear his heavy breaths, his body tense, nerves wracking his body under the pressure. You tucked his hair behind his ear once again, smiling sweetly at him. "Don't be nervous, baby; I'll tell you if you're hurting me or doing something wrong." Your words eased him slightly as he shifted closer, kneeling between your thighs, his eyes scanning your body from your face to your chest down to your waiting entrance.

Spencer didn't notice his breathing getting out of control again until you sprung up, taking his face into your hands, a worried expression on your face. "Hey, hey, breathe, baby, just breathe. You're okay. What's going on?" You tried to calm his breathing before it became a panic attack. Your soft touch and gentle words worked enough for him to talk to you. "I-i c-can't-" Spencer stuttered, avoiding your eyes and trying to pull away, but you just secured your arms around his neck, keeping him close.

"Yes, you can Spence; if you don't want to, that's completely different, but if you're just worried about doing it wrong, then you're not going anywhere." Your words made Spencer lift his gaze to your eyes, scanning your expression to see that you were completely sincere. He hesitated for a moment before leaning in to kiss you, initiating it for the first time. His kiss was gentle and slow, and you returned the same treatment, slowing the pace down to his comfort zone before you went any further.

You were the first to break the kiss for air, both your chests heaving and Spencer's nerves seeming to have subsided. You pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his lips before looking up at him, his eyes already fixed on yours. "You ready, baby?" You smiled, your hand resting on the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I am now." With that, you lay back again, watching Spencer smooth his hands down your inner thighs, urging your legs to open wider before wrapping them around and tugging you closer to him with no effort. The action made you gasp, feeling butterflies in your stomach.

Spencer placed a hand on your hip before his head snapped up to look at you. "I don't have any protection, do you?" He had a slightly panicked expression, and you just laughed, realising that you, in fact, didn't. "Just pull and pray," you said it so nonchalantly as if it weren't completely irresponsible and unreliable.

"But that doesn't prevent you from getting pregnant, and it's stupid, are you sure? I could go to the st-" You cut him off with a loud groan, glaring up at him. "Spencer, I swear to God, please just fuck me." You weren't usually so forward, but right now you were borderline sexually frustrated with how much he was putting it off.

Spencer gulped, nodding as you sighed in relief, watching as he moved to stroke his length a few times, taking a deep breath before leaning over you, pushing his hips forward enough for his tip to meet your entrance. You gasped at the contact, rolling your hips up and causing his length to dip into your cunt. Spencer immediately pushed further in at the feeling, his jaw falling slack as your walls started surrounding him, wet and warm and perfect, his hips subconsciously rutting forward into you.

"F-fuck s-sorry," Spencer apologised, stopping his movements to make sure he hadn't hurt you. You responded by wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer until he was bottomed out. A strangled moan ripped from his throat at the feeling of your soft walls wrapped around him. "O-oh, my god," Spencer breathed, his eyes screwed shut as he tried not to move, knowing that he had to wait and let you adjust to the stretch, which you were thankful for because it definitely was a stretch, making sure to mask the pain so he wouldn't worry. You lay quietly while Spencer let out laboured breaths, the hot air fanning your skin as his head rested on your chest.

Instead of telling him he could move You rolled your hips upward, Spencer moaning into your skin as you did, pulling out slightly before pushing back in, both of you moaning in unison. Spencer lifted his head from your chest and looked up at you, silently asking for reassurance. "Keep doing that, baby; that's good," you breathed, slinging your arms around his neck.

Spencer took your waist into his hands, continuing to roll his hips into yours at a steady pace, but you could tell he was holding back, trying so hard to be gentle and slow for you. It was endearing, of course, but you needed more. "F-faster, please" you moaned out, encouraging him to just give in and fuck you how he wanted to, how you needed him to.

He fastened his pace at your plea, his hips snapping into yours as he dropped his head to the crook of your neck, moaning desperately into your skin. "F-fuck! S-so good, pretty boy," you gasped, gripping his shoulders harshly, your nails leaving crescent moons in his skin. Spencer didn't even notice the stinging; the feeling of your pussy clenching around him overwhelming his senses as he moaned and whimpered into your neck.

"O-oh god, s-so warm," Spencer whined, gripping your waist tighter as he rutted his cock into you harder, his tip brushing that perfect spot inside you, the feeling making you gasp, nails running down his back, leaving red streaks across his skin. "R-right there! F-fuck Spencer, don't stop!" you moaned wantonly, back arching off the sheets as the sound of skin against skin filled the room.

Spencer's movements were slightly clumsy and out of rhythm, but the way he filled you and moaned your name made up for it completely. You felt his hips begin to stutter slightly, knowing that he wasn't going to last much longer; it didn't bother you at all. Your expectations for how long a virgin would last weren't exactly high; you didn't even expect to finish, but when Spencer moved his hand from your waist down to tentatively rub circles on your clit, you felt a familiar knot forming.

"Fuck, baby, that's it!" You moaned loudly, Spencer's fingers working faster at your praise, reassuring him that he was doing good. You felt tears prick your eyes, the sensation of Spencer's cock dragging against your sensitive walls and his fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit making your mind go numb, clinging to him as you ground your hips up to meet his thrusts, the head of his cock brushing your g-spot over and over again.

"I-I'm gonna c-cum," Spencer warned, voice strained and whiny as his pace faltered, thrusts getting sloppy as he neared his second orgasm. "m-me too baby just a l-little more," you whined, head thrown back against your pillows as a few stray tears escaped your eyes, thighs beginning to shake against his waist, your legs still secured around him.

It didn't take much longer for you to feel Spencer's cock twitch inside you, your walls fluttering around him as you felt your orgasm dangerously close. Spencer was suddenly trying to pull away to release on your stomach, your legs instinctively constricting him harder, desperate for your own release. "I-I c-can't hold i-it; you need to l-let me-" You could hear how much he was straining in his voice, desperately trying not to cum, but your mind only had one train of thought, and that was your own release.

"I-inside! p-please just c-cum inside!" You begged, Spencer's eyes blowing wide at your words, his cock twitching at the implication of filling you with his cum, and honestly, it seemed like his only option. Your thighs clenched around his waist and hands holding him with a vice-like grip, so he gave in, hands moving to hold your hips as he let himself thrust into your warmth, both of you moaning in tandem.

Spencer gave a few more sloppy thrusts before he choked out a moan, eyes squeezing shut and head tipping back as he released into you, burying his cock as deep as it would go, cum painting your walls in spurts, the feeling of the warm liquid filling you to the brim had to toppling over the edge, your back arching as you clenched around his length, a mix of his and your cum spilling out around his cock as he gently rocked his hips into you, riding out both your highs.

Spencer let himself collapse on top of you, his arms wrapping around you as he nuzzled his head into your chest, which was rising and falling quickly with your heavy breaths. You both lay in silence as you caught your breath, only remembering that you had to get up and clean yourselves when Spencer moved slightly, feeling more of his cum seep out of you.

"You should go pee." Spencer's voice was muffled as he spoke into your chest. You laughed lightly at the fact that he knew that. I mean he of all people would know that women had to pee after sex. "Well, get out then," you joked, Spencer cringing at your choice of words but complying, lifting himself off of you and slowly pulling out his softening length, both of you sucking in a breath at the feeling.

Spencer insisted on cleaning you up, taking care to be gentle and careful as he did, knowing you would still be sensitive before he all but forced you to pee, going on a tangent about UTI's and the statistics of how many women get them after not peeing after sex, and shoving him out of the bathroom. You finally got some peace to actually use the bathroom without him making you paranoid about your vagina falling off or something.

"alright! i pissed! happy now?" You walked back into your bedroom to find Spencer digging around in your closet in just his underwear, your bedsheets strewn on your floor. "Yes, very, where are your spare sheets?" he asked, turning to face you. You just stood in silence for a moment before you smiled, padding over to him, suddenly full of emotion as you wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your head into his bare chest. Spencer was surprised at your sudden affection but returned your hug, resting his chin atop your head and enveloping you in his arms, his larger body completely engulfing yours.

"What was that for?" Spencer asked when you pulled away, and you just looked at him with your eyebrows furrowed. "We just had sex, and you're asking why I hugged you? Got your priorities  straight, I see Dr. Reid," you jokingly rolled your eyes, feigning being mad at him. Spencer had learned how to differentiate when you were joking and serious pretty early in your friendship, so he just laughed at you, shaking his head but still curious as to why you decided to hug him.

You brought out your spare sheets from the closet, looking at Spencer with a look on your face that said everything: "I swear I looked there." He tried to reason, but you just scoffed, mumbling, "Yeah, yeah" and shaking your head.

Spencer all but forced you to let him help you make the bed, quickly regretting it when it turned into you both bickering over who was doing it wrong and who was doing it right, Spencer cursing more in the ten minutes it took to make the bed than he had in your years of knowing each other, but you eventually had the bed made, both of you getting in on your designated sides. It was a good thing you both religiously slept on opposite sides, or you think you might've actually become an unsub.

You switched off your lamp before rolling over and scooting over the bed to press yourself into Spencer's back, wrapping your arm around him and nuzzling your cheek into his back. "Are you...spooning me?" Spencer sounded as if he was trying not to laugh, and you glared at him even though you couldn't see him whatsoever and he couldn't see you even if a light was on. "Oh, I see, you don't appreciate my spooning you ungrateful little ass; I'll just be over here, don't you worry," you scoffed, rolling over aggressively and letting out an overexaggerated huff as you scooched right to the very edge of the bed, as far away from him as you could get, taking all the blankets with you.

"No no! i do! I really appreciate your spooning! come back!" Spencer laughed, reaching behind him to find you, his hand accidentally landing on your ass, making you gasp and swat him away. "Pervert! You're lucky you're cute, y'know." You rolled back over and moved to slot yourself behind him again, pinching his waist as a form of punishment for grabbing your ass before you draped your duvet back over him.

You both lay listening to each other breathing as you felt sleep begin to creep up on you. You heard heavy breaths leaving Spencer's lips. You poked him lightly a few times to be sure he was asleep before you whispered quietly, "I hugged you because I'm kind of in love with you." You held your breath, praying that he was actually asleep, and when he didn't reply, you let it out, sinking into the mattress as you let your exhaustion win, everything going black.

silly little epilogue!

"Shit, shit, shit!" you practically yelled, rushing out of your apartment with Spencer in tow, still buttoning his shirt, belt undone, and hair awry as you both hurried to your car. You had both slept in for work, completely forgetting to set alarms the night before. You only woke up when Penelope called you, asking where you were, eyes bulging out of your head when you noticed how late you were, Spencer stirring beside you at the commotion, opening his mouth to say something when you slammed your hand over his lips, his eyes widening when he realised it was Penelope on the phone.

You had to lie to her when she asked if you knew where Spencer was, telling her you had no idea and that you were sure he would be there soon. Spencer took the opportunity to jump out of bed to scavenger hunt for his clothes around your apartment.

You made a pit stop on the way to the pharmacy to pick up the morning after pill, the cashier looking at you with a knowing look at your appearance; your hair was messy, your clothes were askew and untidy, and there was not a lick of makeup on your face. You only realised you didn't have anything to take it with when you got to the car, and you were not taking it dry, opting to just speed off and deal with it later.

Your car all but screeched to a stop when you reached the building, both of you swinging the doors open and slamming them behind you, almost forgetting to lock your car as you tried to discreetly run-walk to the elevator, which didn't work. Passersby giving you both weird looks.

You did your best to fix yourself in the elevator, trying to look at least presentable to minimise questions from your colleagues. You didn't even glance at Spencer; how he looked was his own problem today. The elevator dinged and the doors opened, both of you striding out in unison, making your way through the office to the conference room.

"So sorry, I'm late!" You spoke, quickly making your way to your seat. "Traffic was terrible, sorry, hotch." Spencer followed suit, taking the seat next to you as everyone's eyes turned to you, looking at you both with a strange expression that you couldn't quite put your finger on.

Hotch went back to the briefing, going over the details that you had about the case when you leaned in to whisper to Derek, who was next to you. "Can I have a sip of your water?" you asked, and Derek nodded, handing it to you without hesitation. You tried to slyly pull the pill out of your pocket and quietly remove the packaging, but you clearly weren't sly or quiet enough. Penelope was gasping from across the table.

"no way! you dirty dogs!" She practically squealed, everyone's undevided attention turning to you, some confused expressions at her outburst. "That, my friends, is the morning after pill, and those, my friends, are a whole bunch of hickeys; oh, may I remind you they came in together, by the way?" Penelope pointed as she spoke, at your hand and at Spencer, both of you blushing and trying to wrack your brains for an explanation, but there was none.

"My boy!" Derek celebrated, leaning around you to pat Spencer on the back. You turned to him with an apologetic expression, realising it was probably your fault for not checking that they were covered, too worried about your appearance.

"Why am I not surprised?" Rossi added, a few of the others agreeing with him. You could tell that everyone wanted to bombard you both with questions but knew that they couldn't because of the whole part where you were all in an important meeting, Hotch clearing his throat as a reminder, everyone's attention turning back to the case.

You took the opportunity to actually take your pill, throwing it in your mouth and taking a swig of dereks water before handing it back to him and turning your attention to Hotch, the meeting continuing as normal.

You didn't notice Spencer scooting closer to you until he gently tapped your thigh to get your attention, turning to face him before he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"I'm kind of in love with you too, by the way."

[krypticcafe]

Reader/ Y/n coming back to base covered in blood and tortured while 141 + Alejandro had no idea where reader was since they left in the morning.

Reader is "the little sibling/adopted child that we must protect all cause" to the boys

Love your writing so much ❤️

As Long as I'm Here

rating: mature

pairing(s): platonic gn!reader x 141 + alejandro

warning(s): canon-typical violence, language, drugs and drugging, torture, blood, military inaccuracies, no use of y/n, no beta read

a/n: Hope you don't mind that I decided to put this all in one long fic, kinda struggled with the writing direction with this since I had to rewrite it multiple times and I had to cut it short so I'll probably make a part two?

synopsis: it's going to take a lot more than simple torture to keep you from going back to the 141.

Part Two is now up!

"I'll be back before they know it."

Those were the last words you thought to yourself before you hopped off the helicopter. You and a team of other capable members of SpecGru and the Los Vaqueros had left before the crack of dawn for a joint operation and anticipated coming back by the afternoon if things went smoothly. And of course, they didn't.

No, you couldn't be afforded such a luxury as seen by how you were overwhelmed in battle. You wish you could've said you did your best, but god dammit you should've checked before entering that building, thinking you could lure the enemy away from the rest of your team. Compared to the hours you spent strapped to a chair with nothing but fluorescent light and a buzzing in your ears to compliment the throbbing pain in your head, you started to prefer the option of joining the rest of your teammates becoming target practice instead.

It didn't help either that the people who caught you were sick bastards. You could deal with the punches, a kick to the crotch, the hair pulling, cigar smoke, the blades, and having your body slammed around the place. It was nothing compared to practice with the 141 and prior missions you had with them. But when the metal cart of syringes came out, you knew you were beyond fucked, even when you had a swollen eye, a busted lip, broken ribs, open cuts, and burns. They took it a step further and injected experimental drugs you were supposed to investigate, homemade concoctions as they lovingly called them.

By pure shitty luck, you only escaped because one of them was stupid enough to clean up after offering you a glass of water when you woke up after passing out, dropping and shattering it in front of you, and not bothering to clean up. When your guard left to go take a piss break, you threw yourself to the floor and tried to squirm your way to the glass, using a shard to cut through your ropes. Once your guard came back, you pretended to still be bounded to your seat, coaxing him to come closer as if you wanted to confess something, and slit his throat. From there, it was easy now that you had a gun.

Or at least it was supposed to be. Maybe it was the heat of the moment or the adrenaline of finally being able to move, but the drugs hadn't fully kicked in until now. Your whole world seemed to sway, or maybe it was just you. You couldn't tell, all that mattered was that you could fight. Based on the layout of the building you were in, you were still in the same area as you were before. It took more bullets than you would've liked to admit to take down the guards that were in your way, but how was it your fault when the only two thoughts in your head were 'Where the fuck is my stuff' and 'God I'm gonna puke'.

Whoever kidnapped you really didn't think things through. Security was tight on the second floor but the bottom floor just had a single guy in the kitchen messing with a bag of crackers. You aimed your gun at him and click!

Click!

Clickclickclick!

Shit.

Well that caught his attention. You ducked down right when he reached for his gun, tossing your empty one to the side now that you'd be doing this the hard way. Waiting with bated breath, you took your window of opportunity, lunging when he had to reload. You took him by such surprise that he fumbled to put in another magazine and that allowed you to knock the weapon from his hands and tackle him to the ground. The both of you struggled on the hardwood floors for what felt like hours, but it was only a minute at most. Even in your feverish, dizzy, survival-instincts-only state, you overpowered him and stabbed him with his own knife.

Towering over the body, you gasped for breath, feeling your lungs struggling to expand and contract if you didn't force yourself to focus on the task. Great, now you're sweaty, weak, bloody, and out of breath. Based on how your hands started trembling, your symptoms were getting worse. Pacing around the area, you found your bag on a couch and fished around for the radio, yelling out your callsign before the rest of them would discover why their friends were suddenly so silent over comms.

"Sending coordinates, get a chopper over to exfil ASAP. And a damn medic."

The 141 were back from their own mission when they had heard the news of your distress call. Ghost was on the verge of strangling one of men that was on the team with you if they didn't add the fact that you made a reckless move for the sake of the team. Ghost could agree that it was something that only you would do despite his constant arguing with you and his protectiveness over you. He'd keep an eye out for you from the shadows both on base and in the field, be the one to challenge you to push your limits during your sparring matches, make sure you were well-trained so you could protect yourself. And yet you would instead protect the 141's asses countless times.

Ghost was brooding in the helicopter, well, more like sulking after a mission with you and Soap. During the crossfire, he wasn't able to keep an eye out for his flank and see the grenade flying for him. In a desperate move, you shoved him out of the blast range with all your strength, landing you with a couple burns and injuries, but nothing fatal. You knew he was going to get moody afterwards, giving a knowing glance to Soap before turning back to Ghost and nudging his leg with your boot.

"Hey, L.T, you were in the British S.A.S, right?"

"..."

"Just answer the question! C'mon Ghost, for me? Pleaaaase?"

"Affirmative."

"So back then, if you were to get bathroom duty, would they call you a Loo-tenant?"

"... negative. Was promoted after joining the 141." He turned his head away, and despite his blunt, by-the-book response, you knew he was smirking under that mask of his, especially with how Johnny and you were both snickering your asses off.

"Ghost?"

Simon snapped out of his thoughts and looked back at Soap, visibly concerned for the masked man but reading him all at the same time. Years of working together helped Soap get over the boundary of Ghost's silence and stoicism, and Ghost wasn't the only one looking out for you after all.

"You alright, L.T?"

"Solid, just need a talk with Price."

"I know what you're thinkin', and as much as I'd love to shove it to the bastards, they're going to need us when they come back. Price will come up with something, we just hafta wait 'til then." For once, Soap was the voice of reason and Ghost couldn't argue with his point.

"He's right, you know." Price stood a few feet away from the two in the hall, "Kid's capable of themselves but they're going to need a shoulder to lean on when they get here. Maybe a couple stitches, too."

Price hoped it was only going to be a few stitches. Though he knew it probably wasn't the case. Alongside Roach and Gaz, he had trained you for these situations, ensuring it would never happen and it never did thanks to his mentorship. He saw you as one of his own and ensured that you'd be able to fight tooth and nail so that it would never end up like this. But now that it has, he could only wonder what could've been done to you for you to get captured.

He didn't want to wonder.

"Bloody hell, what did they do to you?" Gaz muttered, watching as you stepped down the ramp with a soldier aiding at your side. There was an attempt to bandage you up on the way, though it only seemed to be temporary since your bandages were already stained with blood and some of it oozed out. Even the bandages around your head didn't stop the crimson liquid from spilling down the side of your face. The soldier passed you to Gaz, immediately urging that your injuries be tended to.

"Something's wrong, look." Roach helped support your other side to allow Gaz to examine you.

With a closer look, Gaz found that your pupils were disturbingly dilated, eyes glazed over in a way that made you almost look dead. You were muttering and mumbling nonsense under your breath, something about the mission and wanting to go home.

Gaz swallowed an anxious breath and nodded, "We'll get you home soon, buddy. Roach, help me take off their gear."

As soon as the other man began unclipping your vest from your body, it seemed something had pulled a trigger in you.

"No... no you're not- don't fucking touch me-!" You slurred, weakly tearing yourself from the hands of your friends. It surprised Gaz that you had the energy to punch his chest with that much force, but it broke his heart all at the same time. Roach guessed that you were so out of it that you could barely comprehend your surroundings, hell, you probably thought you were still in captivity. It hurt to imagine your perspective, and how vulnerable you felt, thinking they were your enemies.

"What's going on here?" Price's voice rose over all the noise as people tried to calm you down, Soap and Ghost following behind him along with Alejandro, who joined them with no hesitance after hearing what happened.

Roach approached them, "I don't know, the Sergent just came back like this, like they're in some kind of haze."

"They're drugged, at least, I think. I took a look at them and they don't even look like they recognize us," Gaz struggled to keep you from falling but you were insistent on getting away from him, from everyone. Thankfully, Ghost had come up from behind you without being noticed and locked you in a hold. You tried to flail even more, but with your weakened state and Ghost's strength, all you could do was yell with sloppy words for him to let go of you. It hurt them all to hear you yowl and yelp like an animal in pain, but they knew that you'd only hurt yourself more if Ghost didn't keep you like this. He forced himself to ignore your cries and clenched his jaw, focusing on keeping his temper and how he was going to let it out when given a chance.

"Steamin' Jesus, Price, I thought this was a cartel recon mission?" Soap seethed at the thought of what might've happened. Torture was one thing, but it was this whole new level of "fucked-up" that had him wanting to snap and tear at the throats of your tormentors.

"It was," Alejandro spoke up, "There was talk of a new drug on the market, released even though it was 'incomplete'. Nobody know that it was more dangerous than it was supposed to be, nobody outside of them." The words left a sour taste in his mouth. Cartels being reckless was nothing new to him, it was something he had seen time and time again. But it was the lack of awareness, the blatant disregard for safety and society, and how they betrayed their own people that made him livid. As a leader, he emphasized his loyalty and dedication to his soldiers, which was why he considered those who worked for and with him to be friends or even family, like you. So to him, if someone had messed with you, they were messing with him and his army as well.

Price glanced in the direction of you and Ghost for a moment, watching you finally begin to calm down from tiring yourself out. His gaze softened after you finally went limp, but still breathing, and he felt a pang of disappointment in himself for the briefest of moments. Maybe if he had known you'd leave so early in the day, he could've better prepared you. Maybe he should've assigned one of the others to join you so you wouldn't be in this predicament. But he didn't know. He didn't expect things would go this far south. None of them did.

"We'll finish the job first and then," Price took one last look as you were taken away on a stretcher, unconscious but writhing with a pained expression.

"We give them hell."

[littlexdeaths]

scotty doesn’t know - e.m. ii.

eddie munson x fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: all characters are 18+, some angst, no use of y/n, cheating, protective eddie, shitty boyfriend behavior, unwanted touches/advances, underage drinking/partying, grinding, fingering, light praise kink, biting, unprotected piv sex, cream pie

series masterlist

based on scotty doesn’t know by lustra

a/n: god i feel like this took me forever, so apologies for that. but i just need to thank both @undead-supernova and @xxbimbobunnyxx for helping me so much with getting this fic put back together. i love you both so so much. 🥹💕

word count: 8.3k

Out of all the places you wanted to be on a Friday night, Jason Carver’s house wasn’t one of them.

The party was in full swing, music blasting from the speakers in the living room. Red solo cups and beer cans littered every available surface, as your classmates drank without a care in the world. Between the loud, synthy pop music and the constant chattering, you felt incredibly overwhelmed.

Parties were never really your scene.

You wanted nothing more than to go home and put on a film for the night. But dating a popular basketball player brought you out of your comfort zone more often than not. While that could be seen as a good thing, it was the opposite in this case. You never got to do things that you wanted, the plans always revolving around Scott.

However, there was one good thing about the party tonight. Or rather— someone.

Eddie Munson.

He’d kept his distance of course, so as not to raise any alarm bells with anyone. Most likely using the excuse of a good sale to be there in the first place. If anyone bothered to ask him. He rested his shoulder against the living room wall, a bag of freshly rolled joints clutched in his hand.

Eddie had surrounded himself with Robin and Steve the entire night, looking like he wanted to be there even less than you did. You can’t help but steal glances at each other from across the room.

Eddie looks good—he always does. His long curls are tied back in a low bun, sporting his signature ripped jeans and a Metallica shirt that hugs his broad shoulders nicely. You’ve wanted nothing more than to jump his bones the moment you got a chance to be alone.

The idea of sneaking off with him to one of the many guest rooms became more tempting as the party raged on.

You’ve secluded yourself on the sofa in the living room, adjacent to the makeshift dance floor. Thankful that most people are having too much fun to notice you there. You’ve been slowly sipping on a now watered down mixed drink, finding yourself feeling less and less in the party mood. However, your boyfriend seems to have other plans.

Scott is plastered. Irritatingly so.

You spent most of the night hiding from him, knowing how handsy he liked to get when he was drunk.

And as much as you’ve tried to pretend that everything was fine with Scott, your ability to fake it has become much harder. Especially knowing what you could be having instead.

So for the past week you’d avoided being alone with the basketball star. Ever since that fateful phone call the weekend prior. While you had still gone to the party that night, Scott eventually noticed something was up with you. Mostly due to the fact that you hadn’t let him touch you in over a week.

That was the driving force behind his drinking rampage tonight. The male had done 3 keg stands (that you’d witnessed) since he’d been here, on top however many beers he’d consumed. You’re exactly sure, but it’s the worst you’ve ever seen him.

Part of you does feel guilty, but a bigger part of you is starting to care less and less.

Ironically, Take Me Home Tonight by Eddie Money starts playing the moment he finds you again. But going anywhere with him is by far the last thing you wanted to do. The male slurs along to the track as he plops down next to you, nearly spilling his entire drink in your lap.

You can’t hide the grimace on your face as he leans into you, his breath reeking of stale beer. You grab the cup out of his hand before it spills everywhere. Huffing in annoyance as you set it down on the side table.

You really aren’t in the mood to play babysitter.

Scott’s hands, now empty, immediately grab at your hips to pull you in closer. His lips easily find your neck, the feeling of his hot breath making your skin crawl. You gently shove him off, but he leans back into your space immediately.

Normally you’d let him wear himself out, but you really don’t feel like it tonight.

“Scott, come on stop,” you sigh, no longer able to hide the irritation in your voice.

But your boyfriend is clearly not listening, continuing to press sloppy kisses along the exposed skin of your collarbone. A muffled moan leaves him as he guides your hand onto his lap.

You’re no longer able to conceal the alarmed expression that appears on your face as you tug your hand away. “I mean it, Scott.” He just groans in annoyance, feeling his fingers hook into the loop of your jeans.

“You’re too drunk, I said knock it off,” your voice drips with malice, despite how panicked you feel.

The male would always listen if you ever told him off, but his current state of intoxication clearly overtakes any rational thought.

“Oh come on, babe. We haven’t fucked in over a week, I have needs,” he slurs.

Before you have the chance to respond, the weight of his body disappears. You quickly glance up, your eyes widening in shock. Eddie has pulled your boyfriend up by the collar of his polo shirt, and suddenly it’s like the air is sucked out of the room.

Scott is fuming, a slew of curses leaves his mouth as he attempts to shove him off. Eddie is stone faced as he releases him abruptly, causing Scott to stumble backwards. He recovers quicker than you expected, raising his fist to aim a punch at the metalhead. But Eddie’s reflexes are much faster, catching the closed fist and knocking it away.

Scott was good in a fight, but he’s too inebriated to do much damage at this point.

“She said to knock it off, Scotty. I know you’re stupid but are you deaf too?”

You quickly get up and squeeze yourself between the two males, a clear pissing contest about to ensue if you don’t intervene. Your back is pressed against your boyfriend's chest, as your eyes plead with your lover to calm down.

“She’s my girlfriend Munson, fuck off,” he sneers.

The music has suddenly been turned down to a more tolerable volume, the focus of the party now shifting onto you— much to your dismay.

You can feel Scott’s hot breath against your neck, as his hands wrap around your middle to pull you further against his chest. Eddie is furious, his jaw clenched so hard you can see the muscles straining underneath his pale skin.

If you weren’t in this current predicament, you might have found it sexy. But you’re far too anxious to focus on anything else right now.

“Doesn’t matter, she doesn’t want you to fucking touch her,” Eddie’s voice continues to raise, until he’s almost yelling over your head. “No means no, dickhead!”

You can see Jason beginning to push through the crowd, Steve hot on his heels. The last thing you wanted was for this whole situation to escalate further. But judging by the look on Jason's face, you don’t know if you can stop it.

The crowd is clearly itching for a fight to break out, the whole atmosphere of the party shifting.

“Hey, freak! Who even invited you here?”

Eddie doesn’t even flinch at Jason’s insult.

“I did, Carver,” Steve answers, inserting himself in the already strained situation.

The tension between the four males is so thick, it makes you wish the ground would open and swallow you whole. Steve glances down at you for a moment before continuing, “But it seems to me like you need to get McGuire here in line. She’s clearly uncomfortable.”

You feel multiple pairs of eyes flick back to you, your shoulders slouching in an attempt to make yourself appear smaller. You catch Jason’s gaze, knowing he can clearly see the distress flitting over your features. The blonde sighs deeply, resting a hand on Scott’s shoulder.

“Scott, come on, just let it go,” he says, beginning to tug the male away from you. “You’ve had too much to drink.”

Before your boyfriend can even begin to protest, Jason and a newly joined Patrick lead him away. While you’re quite shocked that he was willing to break this up, part of you is thankful. Normally, the pair would egg each other on to keep a fight going. But as big of a prick Jason Carver is, he knew Steve was right.

You can feel the tears welling in the corners of your eyes, the party seeming to return to normal. While Steve has also disappeared into the crowd, Eddie hasn’t moved an inch. His eyes follow the group of jocks as they filed out of the room, casually flipping them the bird.

But his focus quickly returns to you. You can see in his eyes how he so desperately wants to envelop you in his arms and kiss your tears away.

But he knows he can’t. Not here.

Those protective urges are getting harder and harder for him to fight.

He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can say anything else you’re rushing past him. Pushing through the sea of drunken teens and to the front door. Your fight or flight instincts are finally kicking in, and you know you have to leave.

Anywhere is better than here.

You’d hitched a ride to the party with Chrissy, but you’re not about to try and find her now. You need to be alone.

You run for almost three blocks before you have to stop, resting your hands on your knees as you try to catch your breath. You take a minute to let your heart rate slow to a more steady rhythm before you start walking in the direction of your house.

While Hawkins is a relatively small town, your house is still a couple miles from the party. Walking the entire way isn’t the most ideal plan, but you didn’t give yourself much of a choice. And there’s no way you were going back there now.

You can only imagine the rumors that will be floating around the school come Monday. As much as you try to put on a brave face, you care too much about what your peers thought of you. You can already hear the kind of insults that would be thrown your way.

Skank, prude, lying whore.

The possibilities of cruel words were endless. You let out a small hiccup as you continue down the dimly lit street, finally allowing the tears to roll freely down your cheeks. You don’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing you cry too.

How did you even get to this point?

Two months ago you couldn’t have foreseen yourself in this position. Falling for another guy, whilst simultaneously falling out of love with another. If you ever loved Scott to begin with. You’re not entirely convinced of that fact.

It felt like the easiest option, being with someone like Scott McGuire. He’s well-liked, a person your parents approve of. But you weren’t really happy, just going through the motions instead of chasing what you really want.

Perhaps that was what Eddie had really witnessed that night he had stumbled across you and Scott. Someone who was desperately searching for a way out. And he’d given it to you in ways you never expected.

Eddie was kind, attentive— cared about your feelings and desires.

What started off as just sex quickly snowballed into something much deeper. You had never really given much thought to your own needs. Maybe that was why his offer was too good to pass up, it let you indulge in uncharted territory.

You’d been labeled as a good girl your entire life. You never rebelled and always do exactly as you’re told. To the extent that you never felt an ounce of control over the trajectory of your own relationship. Or many other facets within your life.

It was whatever Scott or your parents thought was best for you. They’ve never taken into consideration what you had actually wanted.

But being with Eddie was like a breath of fresh air. It filled your lungs, greedily inhaling everything he has to offer. After struggling beneath the current for so long, there was no way you would let it pull you back under.

A cool breeze suddenly whips across your face, stinging your wet cheeks. You wrap your arms tighter around yourself to stop a shiver. Thankfully, you had forgone the usual skirts or dresses you adored, in favor of a sweater and jeans. Grateful for the extra layers to combat against the sudden drop in temperature.

You keep your head down as you continue to walk further down the quiet street. Only the sounds of your sneakers padding against the concrete and your soft sniffles fill the night air. It’s almost peaceful.

You make it another block before that tranquility is interrupted. You hear the loud rumble of an engine as a vehicle approaches you from behind. While not many people would be out past midnight in this sleepy town, you don’t think anything of it. You figured they would continue driving down the empty street.

That is until that same vehicle begins to idle next to you.

You glance out of your peripheral and curse softly. You would recognize that van anywhere, having found yourself in the back of it more times than you could count.

The window is cranked down as you turn away, beginning to walk a little faster. But the van keeps pace with you regardless. Eddie calls your name, but you keep your eyes trained on the ground. Tears are steadily streaming down your cheeks now, smearing your mascara.

While the brunette has seen you cry before— it was under very different circumstances. This feels different, like he’s seeing you naked for the first time all over again. Only this time you don’t feel ready for it.

You feel vulnerable and exposed.

You hate it.

Eddie proceeds to plead your name, as you continue to ignore him. He let the upper half of his torso practically hang out of the driver’s side window. The theatrical nature of it is almost enough to make you crack a smile. But you know he wasn’t going to give up until you at least tried to talk to him. With how he had stood up for you, he at least deserves that.

Having made up your mind, you suddenly stop in your tracks. The van squeaks to a halt beside you, the male flinging the driver’s side door open. You see his scuffed Reebox’s first, letting your eyes linger there for a moment. But you immediately squeeze them shut as his fingers softly grasp your chin, tilting it up.

“Sweetheart, look at me, please.” His tone is gentle, but still laced with concern. “It’s just you and me, you’re safe.” The sincerity behind those words has your heart skipping a beat.

You let out a shaky breath as your eyes begin to flutter open. His face is blurred from the tears flooding your lash line. You slowly blink them away until he finally comes into focus.

“There she is…” he declares, the indent in his cheek deepening as he smiles.

The male cups your face between his palms, letting their warmth seep into your cheeks. His thumbs swipe away any lingering tears as he presses a kiss to your temple. Eddie envelops you in his arms, letting you bury your face into his chest. You breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne, letting him hold you like that for a while.

The glow of the street lights cascades down on both of you. The night air only seems to grow colder the longer you both stand there. A shiver runs through you despite the heat radiating from his chest, something he doesn’t miss.

“Alright, time to go, doll,” he mumbles softly, “Can I drive you home?”

You are silent for a moment, mulling over your options in your head. “No,” you finally say, untangling yourself from him.

He looks a little hurt as you turn to walk towards his van, that hurt morphing into confusion as you yank open the passenger door.

“I don’t want to go home,” you explain, seeming to snap him out of his frozen stature. Eddie quickly climbs back into the van, the door barely slamming shut behind him before he pulls back onto the road.

He keeps one hand on the steering wheel, the other tangled with yours on the seat. When you left the party, you had fully intended to go home alone.

But being tangled up with him sounds like a much better option.

You had never been to Eddie’s trailer.

Whether that was intentional or not, you’re not sure. But it’s the one place that he has never taken you to.

He seems nervous as he leads you through the living room. Your eyes wander curiously around the room, taking in the large collection of coffee mugs and hats that decorate the walls. Eddie sheepishly begins picking up some discarded food wrappers, junk mail— all in an effort to tidy up a little.

“Sorry about…” He pauses, hands full as he motions around the room. “All of this." You refrain from rolling your eyes. Tossing some items into the trash, he jokes, “Goddamn maid left us high and dry last week.”

“Let me guess…she ran off with some wannabe rockstar?” You smile, watching as he leans against the kitchen counter with a matching grin.

“Something like that.”

Despite what Eddie has implied about his humble abode, you liked it the moment you crossed the threshold. It has character, a clear representation of the two men who live there. But it also feels warm and incredibly inviting, something your own home hasn’t felt like in quite a long time.

His uncle already left for the night shift, which means the two of you have the place to yourselves. Eddie shows you to the bathroom, giving you a moment alone to collect yourself. But mostly to clean up the mess your mascara had made on your cheeks.

You emerge from the bathroom a few minutes later, Eddie nowhere in sight. He didn’t tell you which room was his, but it doesn’t take you long to figure it out. The door at the end of the hall was left slightly ajar, golden light spilling out onto the shag carpet. But it’s the strum of a guitar that ends up being your guide.

You push open the door to his bedroom, unable to help the small smile that graces your features as you take it all in. The room is a little messy and cluttered— something you expected.

You let your eyes roam over the many posters splayed across the walls, Metallica, Slayer… and one handmade one. Corroded Coffin. You knew Eddie was in a band—it was the one of the things apart from DnD that he seemed extremely passionate about.

Music.

Eddie’s quiet as he sits on the edge of his unmade bed, an acoustic guitar perched on his lap. This machine slays dragons, is painted in white on the side of the instrument. You find yourself suddenly mesmerized, watching as his fingers slowly brush over the strings.

He finally notices how you’ve planted yourself in the doorway, glancing up at you from underneath his lashes.

“Make yourself at home, sweetheart,” he smiles, gesturing around him. “What’s mine is yours.”

He focuses his attention back on the instrument in his lap, testing out a few chords as you shut the door behind you. You step further into the room, letting your fingers trail along the top of his desk.

Being alone with him like this suddenly feels more intimate than any other time before. It’s like he’s letting you peek inside his mind, showing pieces of himself that not many others get to see. Only those that he trusts. And you can’t deny how it warms your insides.

You’re a little too busy exploring the rest of his room that you don’t notice when his eyes have drifted back to you. The brunette gazes at you fondly when you spot a pair of handcuffs dangling next to his mirror. His soft chuckle fills the room as you reach out to run your fingers over the cool metal.

“We can definitely put those to use, doll.” Those words have you squirming, warmth spreading through your limbs. You shy away as you take a seat in the chair next to his desk. “If you want.”

Eddie grins at your flustered expression, glancing back down at his guitar. He’s playing freely now, the chords unfamiliar to you. But they’re beautiful nonetheless.

“You’re really good at… uh,” you trail off softly, gesturing to the instrument.

You notice how the tips of his ears flush pink from your admission, although he acts unfazed by your compliment.

“What, fingering?” he teases, purposefully pressing his fingers down onto the guitar strings in a dramatic manner which makes you giggle.

The song he was playing quickly morphs into something else, something quite familiar. But you can’t quite put your finger on it. You lean forward to rest your chin in your palm.

The moment he begins to hum the lyrics is the moment when the song becomes abundantly clear.

I, I will be king… and you, you will be queen.

“Heroes,” you murmur, the word almost becoming lodged in your throat.

You had mentioned to Eddie in passing a few weeks ago that it’s your favorite Bowie song.

You never expected him to do anything with that information, or even remember it. But he kept finding ways to surprise you. This small act alone proves that he truly cares about you, that he listens to you. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible.

Your body suddenly feels too warm under the thick layers of clothing. Rising to your feet, you grip the hem of your sweater and pull it over your head. You let the soft material fall to the floor, joining a heap of his own clothing. Standing before him in only your bra and jeans.

Eddie seems to fumble over the next few notes as he takes in your newly exposed skin, averting his gaze as he clears his throat. Now it’s your turn to make him flustered.

But he can’t help but glance at you out of the corner of his eye, as you begin unbuttoning your jeans. You shimmy the denim down your legs, kicking them off to the side. You felt emboldened as you strolled over to the brunette’s dresser. His eyes boring into your back as you rummage through his drawers.

You’re in search of a particular item, a smile stretching across your face once you locate it amongst the various band tees. Reaching behind your back you unclip your bra, you let the straps slide off of your shoulders. The item quickly joins the rest of your discarded clothes on his floor.

You don’t hear how his breath hitches in his throat over the strum of his guitar.

You pull Eddie’s faded hellfire shirt from the drawer and slip it over your head. The soft fabric glides over your skin, the hem falling just past the curve of your ass. It smells like an intoxicating mixture of his cologne and laundry detergent.

You hum softly as you breathe it in, turning to face him again. His dark eyes are blown wide, the guitar now almost forgotten in his hands. Just the sight of you in his clothes is making him feel things he’d be too afraid to admit out loud.

You saunter towards him, carefully grasping the neck of the guitar and leaning it against his dresser. He seems dumbfounded as you climb into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck. You tilt your head down towards his ear, lips grazing over it. Enjoying the way he almost shudders beneath you.

“I just want to thank you properly,” you whisper, nipping at his lobe.

Your lips continue to trail across his jaw until you reach his mouth, unable to hold back any longer as you press your lips to his. The feeling of your mouth molding against his own seems to snap Eddie out of whatever trance he was in. His large hands easily find the curve of your waist, gripping the fabric of the shirt in his fists.

Eddie kisses you slowly but deeply, trying to savor the taste of your mouth on his. Your fingers slip the elastic band out of his hair, letting his curls cascade wildly over his shoulders. But the longer he kisses you, the worse the ache between your thighs becomes.

In desperate need of some friction, you grind your hips down against his crotch. Whining as you feel his hardened cock through his jeans. He’d been struggling with it ever since you took that first piece of clothing off. Initially, he was going to ignore it, but then you climbed right into his lap and he lost all sense of logic.

But as much as he wants this to continue, he knows you’re not in the right kind of headspace for more. He groans into your mouth as you continue to rub yourself against him, but his firm grip on your hips stops any further movement. Your eyes flutter open, confusion filling them.

“Slow down, sweetheart,” he pants, one of his hands lifted to carefully cup your cheek. “We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

The look he’s giving you has your heart stuttering, but his words are throwing you for a loop. The whole basis of this… arrangement was sex. The fine line between a casual hookup and a relationship have been blurred for a while. But tonight has made it crystal clear that this has evolved into something much more than that.

Even if neither of you wanted to admit it.

“Do you not want…” you trail off, unable to hide the sliver of hurt in your tone.

He shakes his head, leaning his forehead against yours with a strained sigh.

“Trust me, doll. I definitely want to.” He chuckles, shifting his hips beneath you. “But tonight was… fuck, it was intense. And you can't expect me to believe you're okay after all that. I just want you to have a clear head, is all.”

You mull over his words for a moment as the weight of what happened earlier crashes back over you. And with it, squashing any urge to finish what you had just started.

"I'm not that asshole,” he continues, unable to make out your puzzled expression. “You don't have to fuck me just to make me happy. I'm happy just being with you, like this."

You’re willing yourself not to cry again as he gently presses a tender kiss to your forehead. Eddie basks in the scent of your strawberry shampoo, feeling you start to relax against his chest.

“Now, I don’t know about you.” He yawns, nuzzling your nose with his. “But I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

You laugh quietly, nodding as you climb off his lap. Draping your body over the bed, keeping your eyes focused on him. The male stands to strip down to his boxers, in such a hurry to get back to you that he almost trips over his jeans.

“Down, boy, I’m not going anywhere.” You giggle as he slips under the covers with you.

A sheepish grin tugs at his lips as he clicks off the bedside lamp, bathing the room in darkness. You reach for him just as he does for you, your hands bumping together clumsily.

“Scoot closer.” You can almost hear the pout in his voice, eagerly moving forward until his bare chest is pressed against your clothed one.

“Much better,” he hums.

Eddie slots one of his legs between yours, snaking his arms around your waist. There’s no part of you that isn’t completely entangled in him. You can feel his clothed erection pressing into your hip, and that sense of guilt washes over you again.

Knowing you’d left not one, but two guys pent up tonight.

“I’m really sorry for everything tonight,” you whisper into the darkness, feeling his arms tighten around you.

“Hey, don’t do that. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”

You nod, but those feelings welling up inside you don’t dissipate. Not completely.

Eddie begins to rub soothing circles over your hip, continuing up your side. Your body tenses as you try to stifle a laugh. The male doesn’t realize that his touch isn’t exactly… soothing. But the further his hand creeps up your side the more you start to squirm and a small gasp leaves your lips.

That sound alone is enough to tip him off, now well aware of what he’s done. You can vaguely make out his mischievous grin in the dark, calculating his next move. Before you have time to react both of his hands are trailing up your sides, tickling you.

“Eddie!” You squeal as your body thrashes in his embrace, rolling you underneath him in the process.

The chain of his necklace dangles in your face, his fingers unrelenting as he pulls giggle after giggle out of you. This is a sound he’d vowed to hear as often as he could, his own laugh mingling with yours.

“S’not f-fair!” you squeak out between fits of laughter before he finally lets up so you can breathe. You’re panting a little, your noses brush against each other.

“I like making you laugh,” he admits, almost shyly. “It’s cute.”

You reach out for his face in the darkness, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his jaw. You can feel the warmth that’s radiating against your lips, allowing your lips to linger there for a moment.

Coming to the realization that you’d just made Eddie Munson blush brings a wide smile to your face.

“I just want to say thank you for earlier… and for letting me stay the night. I really appreciate it.”

Eddie settles back down next to you on the mattress, your palms resting against his chest. His lips search for yours in the darkness, leaving kisses all over your face in his fumbling attempt to find your lips. Another round of giggles escapes you from the tender gesture.

His ability to make you feel so safe and secure is still so new to you. You don’t want this feeling to end— you never want any of this to end. However, you know this isn’t fair. Eddie doesn’t deserve to be someone’s secret.

But as time passed and this relationship continued to progress, the more you began to realize that you didn’t want to keep him a secret anymore.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep.

You snuggle yourself further against him, limps tangling together. With your ear pressed to his chest, you can hear the steady beat of his heart. The way his breathing starts to slow and become more even.

“Goodnight, Eds,” you whisper, stifling another laugh as a soft snore answers you.

You allow your eyes to slip shut, exhaustion finally overtaking you as his heartbeat continues to lull you to sleep.

Sunlight streaming through the thin curtains is what awoke you that next morning.

A sigh falls from your lips as you attempt to stretch out your overly stiff limbs. Which is when you feel a stirring beneath you. Your eyes fly open as the events of last night trickle back in.

The party, Scott being a grade A asshole, Eddie taking care of you...

If your body wasn’t currently draped over him, you might have convinced yourself it was all a dream. That Eddie dropped you off at home, and you were snuggled beneath your floral bedspread. But to your relief, that clearly isn’t the case.

Your body stills in an attempt not to stir the sleeping metalhead beneath you. At some point during the night you must have gotten yourselves into this position. Laying on his chest, with his arms wrapped securely around your middle. But you don’t mind in the slightest.

In fact, you feel more rested than you have in quite some time. You just wish you could stay like this forever, wrapped up in him and only him. Lifting your head, you rest your chin on your hand and begin to study his sleeping features.

He looks completely at ease.

Faint freckles are scattered across his nose and cheeks, his long lashes fanning over them. His dark curls are wild from sleep, fanned out over his flannel pillowcase. Pouted lips slightly chapped, but kissable all the same. He really is beautiful.

You continue to watch him sleep for a while longer, the morning sun cascading over the tops of his cheekbones. But his breath remains even, small snores slipping out every so often. As you gaze at him, you can’t help but silently scold yourself.

You’re falling for Eddie Munson more and more each day, and you know you can’t keep this up.

You have to end things with Scott.

And as much as you want to stay snuggled up with Eddie, your body has other needs. You don’t exactly know how you’re going to get up without disturbing him, but your bladder is in desperate need of relief.

You sigh as you begin to shimmy further down his body, your legs falling on either side of his hips. A squeak of surprise leaves you as you feel his hard on pressing against your inner thigh through his boxer shorts. It shouldn’t have been that big of a shock to you—morning wood is normal, right?

But you didn’t have much experience with sleepovers of this nature. Despite dating Scott for well over a year, you’ve never spent the night with him like this. So it’s something quite new to you. While you silently ponder over this, Eddie begins to stir again.

A soft moan tumbles past his lips as you accidentally press yourself harder against his boner in an attempt to swing your leg back over the other side of his hip.

“Mm… where do you think you’re going, doll?” His voice is thick with sleep, an octave lower than normal. The gravelly nature of it makes heat shoot between your legs.

You curse softly as you glance up at him, those chocolate hues gazing back at you. Eddie’s fingers splayed across the tops of your thighs, sliding up to encircle your hips. You feel your body flush, his eyes darkening as he looks you over— straddling him, wearing nothing but his shirt.

When he lifts his hips to grind you against him, you can’t stop the whimper that escapes.

“Eds, hold on. I have to pee,” you mumble, feeling embarrassed as his hips still beneath you.

He just lets out a deep laugh as his hands release your hips. You climb over him, quick to scramble off the bed.

“Alright, I guess I’ll allow it,” he teases, the tips of fingers brushing against yours. “Just hurry back, sweetheart.”

Your heart warms at the sight of him, his brown eyes filling with adoration as they look up at you. Leaning over the bed, you press a small kiss to his mouth. A giggle leaves your own as he gives your ass a small pat before you book it to the bathroom.

You feel much better after finally relieving yourself, washing your hands as you glance into the mirror. Your eyes almost sparkle in the muted light, a dopey smile stretched across your face. Is this what it feels like to be in a healthy relationship?

You don’t dwell on it long, far too eager to return back to him. You slip out of the bathroom and tiptoe back to Eddie’s bedroom. Taking extra care to be quiet as you weren’t sure if Wayne has returned home from work yet. And frankly, you’d be mortified if you met him under these conditions—with you clad in only Eddie’s shirt and your panties.

What a great way to make a first impression.

You close his bedroom door behind you slowly, letting the lock click gently into place. You turn back around to face him and lean against the door. Eddie is in the same spot you had left him, only now he’s leaning halfway up on one elbow. That hunger hasn’t left his gaze as he beckons you over with his index finger.

Looking at his hands makes your thighs clench together, knowing all the wonderful things they were capable of. You take your bottom lip between your teeth as you approach him, stopping at the edge of the mattress. Eddie’s fingers ghost over the plush skin of your thighs, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

They continue up until they reach the elastic of your panties. He gives you a look, silently asking for permission. You guide his fingers beneath the fabric, aiding him in sliding them down your legs. As you step out of the material, your eyes glance back up to meet his.

“Come here.”

It’s spoken softly, but the command in his voice makes your breath hitch.

You move on instinct, your desire fueling your actions as you straddle his hips. There’s a fluidity in your movements as you rest your hands on his chest. Your manicured nails gently trail over his stomach, watching the lust continue to swirl behind his irises.

While this wasn’t a position you’d dabbled in up to this point, the way he’s regarding you has your confidence flourishing. He wants you, and he wants you badly.

At this point you’d give him the moon and the stars if he asked.

Once you’re settled on top of him, you can feel how his cock strains against the fabric of his boxers. Testing the waters, you glide yourself along his shaft, his hands reaching up to encircle your waist. He simply rests them there, allowing you to take the lead.

The worn cotton of his briefs provides some much needed friction against your clit. You bite down on your lip in an attempt to keep a moan from slipping out. But the male isn’t having any of that. He reaches his hand up to remove your lower lip from between your teeth.

His calloused thumb brushes over your mouth, slipping the digit past your lips.

“No need to be shy, sweetheart. I wanna hear you.”

You nod your head, humming as your tongue swirls around his thumb. You eagerly suck it deeper into your mouth, which pulls a low groan from him. But Eddie can only take so much of your teasing, removing his thumb to grip back onto your hips. Your lower lip juts out in a small pout, which causes him to chuckle.

“Now none of that, or I’ll give you something to pout about,” he quips, giving your ass a warning smack.

The hint of a threat in his tone has you whimpering, guiding your hips harder along his shaft.

You grip the hem of his shirt in between your fingers, beginning to lift it over your hips but he stops you. A brow raising as you look down at him.

“Fuck, keep it on,” he says with a groan. “Wanna see you riding me in it.”

His confession has you feeling timid, letting your hands settle back at your sides. Eddie’s fingers begin to trail over the top of your thigh, before dipping between them. His digits glide between your slick folds, brushing over your bundle of nerves. It causes your breath to hitch, eagerly grinding your hips back against his fingertips.

“Eddie, please,” you breathe.

“Use your words, pretty girl,” he hums. “Tell me what you want.”

Impatience gnawed at you as you lifted your hips, your fingers dipping past the waistband of his boxers. You tug them down to release his cock from their confines, your actions surprising you both. As much as you loved when he touched you, your body was already craving more.

Wrapping your palm around the base of his shaft, he groans. His jaw slackens as he watches you guide the tip through your drenched folds. Nudging it against your clit once…twice…a third time.

Before you finally line him up with your entrance, guiding your hips down.

“Shit, hold on doll, need a condom.”

Eddie holds you in place with one hand, as the other reaches over into his night side table. He’s blindly searching for one of the foil packets when you blurt out, “I don’t want it. Need you to fuck me raw, Ed.”

Your words stop him in his tracks, eyes widening in almost disbelief. You suddenly feel nervous, praying you didn’t just ruin everything with your admission.

“Are you sure? I-I wouldn’t want to risk…” he trails off, licking his lips as he regards you with a somewhat guarded expression.

You nod, leaning forward to whisper in his ear, “I’m on the pill. I just… I want you to be the first one to do it, Eddie.”

His groan rumbles through his chest, the implication behind your words only makes him want you more. Scott never got to do this.

This is something that would be his, and his alone.

His hand cradles the back of your neck, guiding your face towards his. Crashes his lips against yours, the desperation behind them telling you his resounding answer. But you want to hear him say it. Nipping at his lower lip, you pull away to sit back up and rest your palms on his chest.

The male is panting beneath you, his flustered expression only causes your confidence to grow. A smirk adorns your features as Eddie lifts his hips upward in an attempt to grind them into yours, but you push back against his hip to stop the movement.

“Nuh uh, handsome,” you purr, your fingertips gliding through the hair just below his navel. “Tell me what you want. Use your words.”

Eddie’s brain nearly short circuits as you use his former words against him. A slew of curses tumbles from his lips as you grasp his cock in your hand, rubbing it through your folds but not yet breaching the entrance. Awaiting his response as you continue to tease him, feeling his fingers grasping onto your ass.

“Fuck, I wanna come inside you so bad, sweetheart,” he whines.

You hum in approval, leaning back down to press a sloppy kiss to his mouth. Eddie instantly reciprocates, his tongue working its way past your lips. You teasingly suck the muscle into your mouth before pulling away. A string of saliva connects you as you sit up fully. Eddie curses again, his hands gripping onto your ass even harder.

“Fuck— come on, please.”

Hearing Eddie Munson beg is what finally breaks your resolve, slowly sinking down onto his cock.

It didn’t matter how many times you’ve had him, he always made you feel so full. This time feels…different, though. It’s as though you can feel every vein and ridge of his cock caressing your inner walls, the sensation has you gasping. Your body stills once he’s fully sheathed inside you, letting your palms splay across his chest.

“That’s it, takin’ me so good, doll,” he grunts as his head falls back against the pillow. His praise has you beaming.

You stay like that for a moment until you become familiar with the feeling of him inside you again. Beginning to lift your hips slowly, his cock nearly slipping out of you completely. As you begin to lower yourself onto him again, his face contorts in pleasure—now hiding those beautiful irises from you.

“Eddie… baby. Look at me,” you coo.

The pet name slips past your lips almost too easily, enjoying the way it sounds on your tongue. Eddie’s eyes snap back open to meet yours. His pupils are blown wide, the black nearly swallowing the brown of his irises whole. The male peers up at you in a mixture of lust and awe as you continue to take him deeper.

If he could watch you ride him all day, he would.

However, your leisurely pace is starting to drive him insane. The brunette begins to buck his hips up into yours, swift but deep thrusts that take you by surprise. A moan gets caught in your throat as he rams into your sweet spot, eyes rolling back into your head. Witnessing your visceral reaction, he continues to repeat the action as your chest starts to heave.

“Christ, you look so pretty with my cock inside you, baby,” he moans, his fingers digging harder into your hips.

Any thoughts of remaining quiet are thrown out the window the moment he speaks. A loud moan rips itself from your throat, filling the silence of his bedroom. His praise has your walls tightening around his shaft, your head falling forward as you open your eyes. A smug look adorns his features, eyes falling to where your bodies connect.

He looks so good like this— underneath you, eyes wide and his cheeks beautifully flushed.

“You like that don’t you? My pretty girl…”

The sound that leaves you is borderline pornographic, nails digging into his shoulders as you ride him faster. You can’t disguise the way your body reacts to being called his, your arousal making a slippery mess between your bodies.

You reach for him, coaxing him up until your chests are pressed together. Lips find each other instantly, tangling your fingers in his already wild locks. One of his hands travels between you, rubbing at your swollen bud.

“Fuck— Eddie,” you cry out as he massages your clit faster, simultaneously bucking his hips up into you.

You meet each of his thrusts by slamming your hips back down, thighs burning with the effort. One more brutal thrust into your cervix has you seeing stars, your head burying itself into the crook of his neck. You bite down onto the flesh of his shoulder to muffle a loud cry.

Your thighs tremble as your body slumps forward—unable to continue.

But Eddie keeps going, chasing his own end as he guides you further along his cock. He isn’t able to hold off much longer, as the constant fluttering of your walls becomes his undoing. He spills inside you with a deep grunt as you cling onto his biceps.

The male soon collapses into you, his chest heaving as he captures your lips together. You sigh into his mouth as he holds you tightly against him, breathing the air back into your lungs. You stay like that for a moment, locked together in the most intimate way possible.

Eddie carefully ushers your hips upward, coaxing you back onto the mattress. You whimper softly, already missing the feeling of him inside you. His cum has begun to drip onto the bed sheets as he kneels before you, spreading your legs so he can admire the mess he’s made.

Eddie’s eyes are still wide with lust as he takes in the sight of you, dipping his fingers between your thighs to gather some of his cum on the digits. He slowly eases them back inside your entrance in an attempt to keep anything else from spilling out. You whine his name, reaching out for him as he gently removes his fingers from your center.

The male presses multiple kisses to your shaky thighs before he crawls his way back up your body. Just as he goes to wipe his fingers on his sheets you grab onto his wrist, slipping the digits past your lips.

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart,” he mumbles, feigning hurt when you playfully nibble on his fingers. He starts to pull away, ignoring your pout as he gets off up off the bed. You’re about to protest but he hushes you with a kiss. “I’ll be right back.”

Eddie quickly fixes his boxers before he slips out of his bedroom, returning moments later with a damp washcloth. He’s back between your legs, gently cleaning up the dried arousal on your thighs. He takes his time, making sure every inch of your skin is clean before he tosses the dirty rag in his overflowing laundry basket.

Eddie helps you into a sitting position as he cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your lower lip. He smiles fondly at you, dimple indenting his cheek as a familiar look flashes through his eyes. The one you had noticed the week prior when you were draped across his chest in your bedroom. A look he seems to give you almost every time you’re together now.

You still aren’t sure what exactly it means. All you do know is that you want to see more of it.

Eddie tries to hide it as he presses a kiss to your nose, chuckling as you scrunch it beneath his lips. “You hungry? I’m not the best cook, but I can definitely whip you up a nice omelet?”

You beam at him, nodding your head as he gets up to rummage through his dresser drawers. He eventually finds a pair of shorts for you to wear, handing you the garment as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants. You glance down at the ground, attempting to look for your discarded panties, only to come up short.

“Eddie? Have you seen my panties?” You sigh, beginning to look through the clothes scattered across the floor. Hearing him chuckle you glance up, a small smirk stretching across his lips. It’s then that you notice the black lacy fabric clutched in his fist.

“These are mine now, sweetheart,” he winks, tucking them into his bedside table.

You feel a little flustered as you pull the shorts up over your legs, playfully swatting his chest as you stand. Eddie just laughs, pulling you into arms and kissing you again. He eagerly threads your fingers together, leading you out of the room.

However, once he begins to guide you through the trailer— there's only one thing on your mind.

Scotty has got to go.

— next chapter.

sdk taglist: @xxbimbobunnyxx @munsonhoneybaby @mugloversonly @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @transparentenemypenguin @calumfmu @vamp-bunny @eddiesxangel @nailbatanddungeon @deathst9r @comeonatmebruh

[distantdarlings]

PARTING THE SILENCE // t. nott

RATING: R / 2.9K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Reader Insert (no gender-specific details)

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* Theo plans a special evening for the two of you on the night of your anniversary.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! Virgin!Reader, Dom!Theo, Gender-Neutral Reader, losing virginity, language, piv - no protection, fingering (lmk if I missed any)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

HEAVEN - Isabel LaRosa

(Quick note: This is not entirely proof-read and was originally written with a fem reader before I realized the gender is not specified in the request. I tried to rewrite w/ a gender-neutral reader, but if I've missed something, please let me know! Thanks!)

---

Your foot tapped impatiently against the leg of your desk as you anxiously awaited the end of class. Your eyes glanced around aimlessly, attempting to catch a glimpse of the sun. Perhaps you’d be able to get an idea of what time it was. 

“Okay, that is the end of my lecture for today!” Professor Flitwick announced. With a flick of his wand, dozens of textbooks flew toward the students. They were small and very old with cracked bindings, but they held the class’ homework for the rest of the week. 

Once you selected yours and shoved it into your bag, you were practically already out the door. Your boyfriend, Theo Nott, had promised a romantic evening for your anniversary, and you weren’t planning on being late.

You shouldered your bag and exited the Charms classroom with your dormitory in mind. Every other student that was trying to get to the Great Hall or to Hogsmeade crossed the halls, making it near impossible for you to wiggle through each one. It was like an ocean constantly pushing against you. 

Past staircases and groups of students, you’d finally managed to get back to your house's common room. You ignored the growl in your stomach as the scent from the kitchens wafted through the hair. Surely, they’d had nothing but distraction in mind when they put the Hufflepuffs right next to the kitchens. You rolled your eyes. 

You didn’t need to eat anything right now. Theo had planned dinner just for you, and you wanted to be able to eat as much as you could if it. You didn’t want to show up to your date full. 

You spoke the password and whisked through the hallway into the common room. Its yellowed walls reflected the setting Sun outside, casting a peaceful, golden glow onto everything. It was nearly empty, but you knew that wouldn’t be the case forever. Since it was a Friday night, everybody had plans, and they’d be rushing back to their dorms soon enough.

You jogged the rest of the way to your dormitory and let the door fall shut behind you. Only a few of your dorm mates were scattered around the room, doing homework, tidying up, and whatever else. They all gave you a small wave or nod as you walked by, to which you politely returned.

You had no time to talk at the moment. You had to get ready. Due to the likely possibility that you’d be late, you’d already laid out an outfit. Theo always had the mind to plan ahead and have everything ready perfectly on top. Your issues with punctuality tended to put you both behind, though. So, today, you tried to think forward.

Dropping your things, you grabbed the outfit and headed to the joint bathroom. Though it was simple, it was fancy enough to be suited for a nice dinner and casual enough for a picnic. You could never prepare for the wild dates Theo planned. 

You slipped the clothing on and readied yourself in the bathroom mirror, splashing a bit of water on your face and messing up your hair. Though you didn’t look half as well as you wanted to, it would work for tonight. 

Turning on your heels, you made your way out of the bathroom and back through the common room as quickly as you could. The hallways of Hogwarts were closer to empty now that classes had been out for a while, making it much easier to find your way to your destination. 

The sky outside was blackening quite rapidly due to the wintry month the castle was currently submerged in. With a shudder of nerves at the thought of having to walk in the dark by yourself, you picked up your pace a bit. The air around you was chilled and swirling, urging you to wrap your jackets tighter around you. 

Theo had told you to meet him by the Black Lake on the side opposite the castle. You weren’t sure if he had planned to do something there and then go out to eat or… A deep sigh left you. You were definitely overthinking this. No matter how long you’d been with Theo, you always became extremely nervous before any of your dates. Due to your house of origin, you constantly felt as though you weren’t good enough to be with Theo. It wasn’t as though any of his friends made you feel that way. It was other people in Slytherin house and even some in Hufflepuff. It was an unnerving feeling that led you to believe they were right, even though Theo picked you. 

You came up to the edge of the Black Lake. The quickly approaching starlight above began to reflect in the dark waters. Halfway across the way, you could see a small lantern pressed up against one of the trees lining the banks. A wide smile spread across your face, urging you toward that dim glow. Swallowing your anxiety, you began to skirt the edge of the lake until you came upon Theo, who seemed to be admiring his work.

Before him was a dark green quilt, weighed down with two large, woven baskets, the lantern, and what looked like his school bag. You suppressed a smile and snuck up behind him, intending to surprise him. 

You eased up behind him, feet as quiet as possible, and sucked in a breath—

“Rah!” Theo turned and shouted, grabbing at your sides. You shrieked at the sudden shock, having no time to react before his fingers started attacking your ribs. Panicked giggles swirled throughout the air as he tickled you relentlessly, his eyes mean and teasing. 

“No, no, no! Please, stop!” you screamed through forced giggles. You kicked and wiggled to try and separate yourself from him, but his hold—as always—was much too strong for you to escape from. He used the size difference between the two of you much too often. “Theo!”

When he finally stopped tickling you, he pushed you back slightly to avoid your next move, which was all too predictable. As soon as he had separated himself from you, you began to swing your arms at him, trying to get a good hit to his arms. 

“You jerk! I’ve told you not to do that!” you shouted, smacking at his clothed arms. 

“You were trying to surprise me!” he defended himself, trying to push you away from him.

“I don’t care!” He grabbed a hold of you suddenly, pulling your body close to his, his strong arms wrapped snugly around you. The two of you attempted to contain giggles at the feeling of being so close to one another. The chilled air cooled your lungs and fanned across your chest. Despite the temperature around you, Theo’s body against yours was as warm as it needed to be. The weather barely had any effect on you when he held you. He was like your own personal heater. 

“Oh, I missed you, darling,” he groaned lovingly into your ear, his lips tickling the flesh of your neck. The vibration of his words and the feeling of his breath on you sent a shiver through your body. You gasped slightly at the sensation, clinging tighter to his arms. 

“You cold?” he asked. 

“No.”

“Why’d you shiver?”

“Because you make me a little nervous,” you giggled awkwardly. His arms loosened around you almost instantly. His eyes found yours, a deep concern shoved into them. Your nervous smile dropped slightly at his expression. Was he upset?

“I make you nervous?” he asked. “What did I do? I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Was it the way I held you?”

You nearly melted at how worried he seemed to be with your comfort. Never before had you met a boy so serious about how you felt. Being with Theo felt like always being taken care of, always being thought of, and never being forgotten. It never failed that—no matter what the issue was—Theo was there and ready to fix it. Whether it was his hands, his lips, his words… Whatever it need be, he had it waiting for you. You loved him endlessly for it. 

“No, darling,” you laughed. “You make me nervous … in, uh, a good way.” His eyebrows quirked, and a small smirk began to spread across his lips. 

“Nervous in a good way, huh? Can you explain that to me a little bit?” he asked slyly as he inched back toward you. Once he was behind you, he wrapped himself around you again, allowing his face to press back into your neck. You could feel his breath against your skin; each inhale and exhale made your heart rattle in your chest. One hand that was tightened around your stomach loosened itself and slid upwards. His fingers softly slid around your neck, never tightening, just placed there. It was so domineering, yet soft, that it had you gulping.

 “L-like when you do that,” you sighed, cursing yourself for stuttering. 

“When I do what?” he asked. His free hand moved gently against your stomach, gently tracing curves and dips, claiming your body so easily. 

“When you touch me,” you whispered. At some point, your head had begun to lean back against his strong shoulder. If not for him holding you up, you were unsure if you’d still be standing. 

The two of you had only done a few things together since you started dating. Of course, you’d kissed and petted a bit, but the two of you hadn’t gotten…there yet. The thought of it started your heart beating wildly in your chest, with no regard for your pride, as Theo’s hand was still splayed against your thorax. 

“I could touch you more if you’d like,” he suggested. The fact that he’d presented the question like an option rather than a definite made the experience feel all the more pleasurable. He so obviously cared about how you felt, and that made you want him even more. 

“Outside, Teddy?” you breathed nervously, your chest rising and falling heavily beneath the fall of his hand. Every breath and every touch against you had your mind racing.

“It’s dark, and no one else is out here,” he mumbled against the skin behind your ear. His lips caressed the shell of it every few moments.

“It’s cold…I don’t know if we should.” You wanted to. You really did, but you were trying to reason with him a bit. In his defense, your plan was to come out here and have a romantic anniversary…but now all you could think about was what lay beneath his knit sweater. 

His free hand trailed around your waist and skirted your core through the fabric of your bottoms. A shuddering gasp left your lips ever so quietly, the sound slicing through the icy silence.

“Does that feel good, baby?” he whispered against your ear. The tip of his nose traced along the line of your shoulder, traveling lower and lower until he pressed a sensual open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder. Your heart was pounding, your breaths leaving you in desperate pants. 

“Yes,” you moaned breathlessly. You could practically feel him smirk against you as he gently pulled you backward to the beautiful picnic he’d set up.

With a small shove, he’d moved the prepared baskets off of the quilt and laid you softly on the ground. The earth beneath the blanket was soft and even, and the boy above you was strong and rough. The contrast had your pupils blown wide in pleasure. 

Once above you, he hovered easily, his lips running slow, personal kisses along your jawline and neck. Your head tilted back against the ground to allow him as much access to you as possible. You didn’t want anything coming between the two of you.

“Darling, please,” he breathed against your skin, “…want you now…” 

His lips hovered just over your chest where your shirt split down the middle. They were parted and swollen and wanting as he brushed them along your flesh, impatiently waiting on your consent.

“Yes, please,” you whined out, clutching his curls within your fingers. 

It took less than a second for him to begin to undo your bottoms, his hands gentle yet swift. Once the task was completed, he did the same with himself. He removed his belt and dropped it to the ground next to him, the leather slapping against itself with a loud crack. At the sound, you could feel heat broiling in your core…you figured that was an experiment for another day, though.

Theo undid his pants and pushed himself over the top of his briefs so he was still covered from the back. At the sight of his perfectly reddened dick, you could feel your body clenching around nothing, desperate to feel him inside you. 

Theo caressed gentle fingers up and down your core with one hand while the other collected a bit of spit from his mouth. He let it fall down between your legs and trace circles around your entrance, spreading the slick all around. At the feeling, your back arched toward him. Your lips parted in a silent scream. You’d never done this before, so you were bound to be as tight as possible, but you didn’t care. The nerves of your first time with Theo were very quickly overpowered by the raging lust pushing through your body.

He found your eyes and, with a soft nod, slowly slid his finger within you. It was a stretch—one that put your fingers to shame. You grasped at anything—the dirt, the grass, Theo’s back. He was sending you into space and keeping you grounded all at the same time. His finger slowly worked you open with genuine care until he was able to add more. He was preparing you for himself, but you could barely reach the third finger. 

“Ugh, slow, baby, please,” you whined. 

“I’m sorry, darling,” he whispered. “Too much?”

You nodded pitifully, your fingers grasping at the quilt and the grass beneath. His hands slowed and eased you closer and closer to your finish before carefully removing all of his fingers from you. You groaned at the sensation and the sudden emptiness. 

“Why’d you stop, Teddy?” you moaned. You stared up at him, your bottom lip jutting out slightly in a slight pout. He clicked his tongue and placed a dominating hand on your jaw. The size of his hand dwarfed your face as his thumb traced the length of your lip. 

“Because I want to give you more, baby,” he cooed. “I want to feel you wrapped around me.” 

You sucked in a shuddering breath as he balanced himself on his knees. He agonizingly slid himself over your entrance, the tip tracing you meanly. Your lips parted at the sensation, anticipating the stretch and fullness.

“I’m gonna move, sweetheart,” he moaned, his hands gripping your bare thighs tightly. You nodded in response to his guidance and braced yourself against him.

As he pushed in, the stretch was a strong yet delicious burn. The slick around your entrance was enough to allow him to slide in quickly, yet he took his time, allowing you to grow around him. Once he’d filled you up to the base, he groaned lightly, waiting patiently for the go-ahead to move.

Once you settled around him, you nodded eagerly. His hands gripped your hips, his fingers tightening into your flesh. Your lips parted at the motion. He ever so slowly began to move in and out of you, each stroke caressing some unknown spot deep within you. 

“Fuck, Teddy,” you whispered, “I don’t know how long I can last.”

“Go as long as you can for me, baby…just want to feel you around me,” he grunted out. You glanced up through hissed lids to observe his gorgeous face and the fucked out impression painted on it.

The sweat dripped down the side of his face, trailing over his jawline and tracing his strong neck. His lips were swollen and parted delicately, with whispers of moans slipping through. His eyes were shut loosely. With every particularly deep thrust, you’d clench around him, and his eyelids would part, showcasing his sea-misted eyes rolling back as far as they’d go.

The sight of his pleasure was enough to push you over the edge into an ocean of ecstasy. You came hard around him, the last remains of your virtue spilling down between your thighs. Your back arched, your legs shook around him, your fingers gripped at nothing.

The feeling of your orgasm slammed into his chest. He cried out pitifully, a melodious whine parting the silence as the evidence of his finish coated your insides.

With a deep exhale, he eased himself out of you and collapsed beside you. You laughed breathlessly, the aftershocks of your orgasm flowing through you like a wave.

With a lazy smile on his face, he leaned forward and reached over you. He lifted the lid of one of the baskets and pulled an extra folded quilt out. You laughed aloud at his preparedness.

“Knew you were gonna get fucked, is that it?” you teased.

“Actually, I figured we’d stargaze,” he admitted, sheepishly tossing the blanket over your bodies. “I brought it in case we got cold.”

“You’re adorable, Teddy,” you giggled, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. He rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face couldn’t hide the love he was feeling for you.

He passed around the perfectly preserved food and pumpkin juice, ensuring you got a taste of each sweet and snack he’d brought along. 

He then wrapped himself around you and reminded you ten times over why you’d fallen in love with him.

*Tag List: @mypolicemanharryyy, @angelfrombeneth, @clairesjointshurt, @bunbunbl0gs, @acornacreacure, @niktwazny303, @thestarlithideout, @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw, @yhiiil (if you would like to be added to the tag list for any future works, please comment on this post, dm me or send me a message in my inbox. Thanks!)

[pinkponyclubbb3]

Casual.

summary: Y/N finds out Chris has been sleeping with other girls when she thought they were something more than a casual thing. He ends up finding her next to a waterfall drunk and high out of her mind.

warnings: toxic Chris! smoking,drinking mentioned. nudity but no smut

this is all just fiction don’t take anything serious!

I follow Chris to his room with his phone in my hand. Tears streaming down my face. “L-look at the picture she sent me, Chris!” It was a picture of Chris sleeping naked in another girl's bed with a sheet covering his waist down and his arm resting above his head. He groans and looks at the ceiling fan. “Y/n! Have I ever asked you to be my girlfriend?” My heart is beating so fast. “No but-”

“But nothing! We’re nothing, y/n! We’re just casual!” that one word was like a stab to the heart. I can’t stop my tears from streaming down my face. I look at him in disbelief. “Casual? Was it casual when you took my virginity? Was it casual when I was the first girl you’ve introduced to your parent’s?” My voice breaking with every other word that’s coming out of my mouth. He rolls his eyes and looks at me. “It’s not my fault that you were stupid enough to think this was something more than casual.” I can feel the lump in my throat trying to stop me from crying.

“Fuck you, Chris.” I’ve never cussed before, especially not at a person, but I didn’t know any other words to express my feelings. “You know what your problem is? You’re too fucking needy. It’s pathetic. Seriously.” he scoffs.

Matt comes through the door when he hears us arguing. “Okay if we’re so ‘Casual’.” I grab Matt’s shirt and kiss him. I whisper a quick sorry before I slam Chris’s door. I grab my keys from the table and wave to Nick. “See ya.”

I slam my car door and try to slow down my breathing. I look in the center console and find three joints I stole from Chris. I’ve never had a reason to smoke but i’ve always wanted to try it. I pull out the driveway and start heading towards a gas station. I put my phone on Do Not Disturb as I hear phone calls spamming me.

Before I exit my car, I look in the mirror and try to wipe off the mascara under my eyes. I put on some lip gloss to try to look presentable. I close my car door and head inside. I decide to get my comfort snacks: goldfish, takis, Oreos, and a fruit punch to drink. As I’m passing the drinks, I notice the alcohol.

I grab a drink and put it in my basket with my snacks. I pay at the front and go back to my car. I connect my phone to the car to play Billie Eilish and fill the silence. I’m not sure where I’m going, but I keep going straight. I’m trying not to think about anything until I get somewhere to avoid spiraling.

I remember a waterfall I used to go to and decided to go there. I check the time, and it’s close to midnight, so nobody should be there. I park my car, get my tote bag from the backseat, and pack all the stuff. I open the goldfish and take a handful to my mouth. I fold my blanket so it fits in my bag.

I look in the center console for a lighter and see one that’s wrapped in a picture of me in lingerie. Chris gave it to me so we can match. I stare at it for a second and feel the lump in my throat start to form again. I sigh out loud and throw the lighter in my bag. I grab my phone to use the flash and start hiking. I know this path like the back of my hand.

As I walked, I decided to check the notifications I’d gotten, and it was a mix of Matt and Nick—none from Chris. A part of me knew he wouldn’t try to call, but there was still this little piece of me that had hope. After what feels like hours i’m finally at the top where I have the perfect view of the waterfall.

I sit down under a tree and take in the view. As I hear the water splash as it hits the rocks below me. I wrap myself in my blanket and turn on some music. I turn my phone over so a dim light shines. I continue eating my goldfish and start thinking about the events earlier. ‘you were stupid enough to think this is something more than casual’

When I met his parents, their eyes lit up as if I was the first girl they’d ever seen with him. When I was having a bad day, he would come to my house with my favorite snacks, and we’d watch movies while I’d rest my head on his chest and he told me everything would be okay.

Was that all really just casual and I was delusional?

I look through my bag and find the joints. I put one in my mouth and light it up. I inhale for a few seconds and let it sit before I exhale. I started coughing. Obviously, being new to this, my lungs weren’t used to smoke. I start drinking the fruit punch and eventually recover. I open up all my snacks and lay them out so I can easily grab them. I see the bottle of liquor and just stare.

I’ve never drank before either. I say fuck it and open the bottle. The drink burns my throat as it goes down. “Ew!” I say out loud. I start laughing out loud. As I hit the joint more the snacks are tasting like i’m eating a piece of heaven. The song ‘L'AMOUR DE MA VIE’ starts playing and I take a huge swig of the liquor .

“So you found her! Now go fall in love!” I sing and wave my hand out as those lyrics are sung.

couple hours later

I can barely keep my head up. I’m so tired. I pick up my phone for the first time since I got out the car. My vision is blurry and I can’t read the messages.

Chris<3

Where the fuck are you?

a bunch of missed calls from the triplets. I’m too tired to care. I use my tote as a pillow and throw the blanket over me. I stare at the waterfall and I’ve never felt more calm in my life. It’s as if my mind let me have a break from itself. I put another Oreo in my mouth but i’m too tired to chew so it slips out and lands on the grass. “Just five minutes.” I close my eyes to fall asleep.

————————————————————————-

I feel like I’m flying. My hair is all over the place. I smile and stretch my arms out. I open my eyes, and I’m met with beautiful blue ones. He’s carrying me bridal style. “Hi, handsome.” I slur my words. My head falls back. I look up to see the night sky that’s covered in stars. “You know how dangerous this is?” Chris says with a stern voice. I laugh at him. “If you were a dwarf, you’d be grumpy.” I laugh historically, squinting my eyes.

He gets to his car, and Matt’s in the driver's seat. Chris is in the back, and he lets me lay my head on his lap. “Wait, don’t close the door-” I lean over and throw up. I try to grab all my hair, but strands are stuck to my face. I feel a hand grip my hair to get it out of my way. I wipe my mouth, and Matt hands me a water bottle. “Thanks,” I whisper. “How’d you find me?”

“I have your location.” I scoff. “And he says we’re casual,” I tell Matt. I can’t comprehend what he replied. I don’t feel like talking. I can’t think straight. It might be the drugs in my system or the alcohol. I lay in his lap silently, staring at the back of the passenger seat. I feel him playing with my hair. Tears start trickling my eyes.

I hit his hand to stop doing that. “Don’t touch me.” He scoffs. “What’s your problem?” I sit up and immediately get dizzy. I rub my eyes, smearing whatever’s left of my mascara. “Don’t do all this shit, then just call whatever this is ‘casual,’ Chris. Because I know for a fact if this was the other way around, you’d be just as hurt.”

He’s quiet, jaw clenched. “I’ll prove it to you. Matt, pull over.” I take my shirt off. “Woah woah-” Okay, maybe not the best Idea, I tell myself. “Put your shirt back on. Jesus.” Chris pulls my shirt down. I bite my lip, trying not to laugh, still feeling the effects of the weed.

We pull up to the driveway. “What about my car?” It completely slipped my mind until I felt the keys in my pocket. “I’ll pick it up tomorrow.” Matt opens the door and holds out his hand. “Thanks.” I take his hand, and he helps me down. “You’re gonna have to sleep in Chris’s room.” I wave a hand in Matt’s face. “I’ll take the couch.” I go through the front door and run to the couch, tripping over my foot. “The fuck is wrong with her?” Nick says. “She’s high,drunk, all the above.”

“Hi Nick, want an Oreo?” he sighs and holds out his hand. I take an Oreo out of my bra and give it to him. “Ew!” he throws the cookie on the floor. I start laughing so hard tears are coming out my eyes.

“Alright, come here. You need to change.” I follow Chris to his room. I sit on his bed while he looks through his closet. He throws me one of my black lace bras and a pair of shorts. “What kind of pajamas are these?” He throws sweats and a shirt at my face. “What the?” I laugh. He turns around, and I strip in front of him while holding eye contact. I throw on the sweats and T-shirt. I fall back on the bed and watch him turn on the light.

He takes off his shirt, leaving him in just his pajama pants, and gets into bed. He holds me in his arms and kisses my head. “Casual, my ass,” I mumble into his arm. “Go to sleep,y/n.”

————————————————————————

A/N : thank you for reading this was inspired by the song ‘Casual’ by chappell roan.

If you want to be tagged in future fics lmk in the comments . click my bio to send me a request of a fanfic u want or just anything ♥️

Tag list:

@mylove4lana @mattstromboli @gracielovssturniolo @taliaslutiolo @watercolorskyy @eliana-4200 @naisblogsblog

[writersblog20]

High

Pedro Pascal x (curly hair) reader

Credits to the gif maker!

Summary: After a very shitty day, your neigbour, Pedro helps you to relax in every way possible

Warnings: Smoking weed, drinking alcohol, age-gap, sexual tension, reader gets picked up, smut, p in v, no condom (please do use a condom), mention of panic and anxiety (just one sentence or so)  oral Female receiving, squirting, daddy kink, dirty talk, pet names, Pedro being called: Papi, creampie, blowjob, soft sex, soft Pedro, overstimulation, aftercare and fluff

Words: 4K

High

You angrily placed your bag on your table when you arrived home. You were beyond pissed. You were finally done with some part of the exams for now but god did your professor test your patience today. This was your final exam and you’ve been preparing very good for it but you had to give a presentation with two of your teachers and your professor tried everything he could think off to dismantle your arguments and it worked. He got right underneath your skin, pissing you off to no end. There was no winning here for you. You did well though, very well even but you and that professor always buttheads together. So you came home, pissed out of your mind and couldn’t wait to smoke a joint and drink some wine or well, anything will do if it has alcohol in it. You quickly put your oversized hoodie on before going outside.

You let out a deep, frustrated sigh, got your joint and sat down on your porch as you put some music on. You lit the candles that were on the table of the porch. It started to get dark outside and you were more than ready to forget about this day as if it never even happened.

You inhaled the smoke and let it rest in your lungs. You started to feel the tension loosen up a bit until you heard the door open from your neighbour, the one and only Pedro Pascal. The daddy of the internet, the famous actor and your neighbor. You had a crush from the moment he moved in the house next to you. Yeah it wasn’t helping your daddy issues in any way here. You panicked a little because you didn’t want him to know that you smoked weed. He walked up to your porch with a bright smile that already made you forget about your day as you smiled back. You could say by now that you and Pedro were good friends.

“Hey neighbour!” he said with a smirk. You smiled but felt your heartrate pick up. He held up a tray of corona’s and a bottle of tequila. “Want to have a beer with me? Heard you had a bad day.” He told you, awaiting your answer. “Sure why not.” You smiled. “How do you know I have a bad day?” you asked him once you realized what he said. “Your mom texted me, asking if I could check up on you. Besides, it gave me a reason to see you again.” He told you with a teasing smirk which made you feel flustered. Pedro’s charm always worked on you and made your crush grow stronger.

He sat next to you. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell her that you smoke weed.” He told you casually and your face fell from being caught but you also felt the tension leave your body “As long as you share this one with me.” he told you with the same smirk and held up his own joint. You chuckled slightly and relaxed back into your chair. “Deal.” You giggled as Pedro handed you a shot of tequila and clinked it together “Salud” Pedro said, making you repeat him. You took the shot and groaned slightly when you finished it. Pedro opened the corona bottle and handed it to you and lit the joint after.

“So… Want to talk about it?” he asked you a bit more serious now as he handed you the joint. You took a big hit and held it in your lungs for a bit. “It was my teacher. He tried to fuck me over in every way he could find.” You told him and Pedro frowned, not liking what he heard. You told him about your day and let out a deep sigh when you were done. “He sounds like a first class dick.” Pedro told you, making you nod and stare in front of you while taking another hit before passing it to Pedro.

You were finally high and relaxed, not really wanting to talk about your day anymore. You started to get more comfortable in the chair. You looked at Pedro who already looked at you with his big brown eyes. You couldn’t look away as a rush of excitement went into your tummy. You see, you weren’t used to this weed and some have a… well an effect on you. You were horny let’s just keep it on that and the hot man sitting next to you, who you had a big crush on wasn’t helping this case at all. But you weren’t even sure if he ever thought of you in that way because of the age gap.

You looked in front of you again, feeling the heat creeping up. Some curls fell in front of your face, placing them back behind your ears only for them to jump back in place so you just blew them out of your face, not noticing how mesmerized Pedro looked at you right now. You heard the familiar tune of The Weeknd with Lost in the fire and got did the air around you two tighter.

Pedro got the shot glasses and poured another shot of tequila in it, giving it to you, looking directly into your eyes. You saw something in his eyes that you haven’t seen before, it was a lustful look yet adoringly. For some reason you started to feel very confident and gave him your best flirt look. A soft smirk with siren eyes as you leaned towards him a bit. “Salud.” You told him seductively. Pedro swallowed and looked away from you, shifting in his seat a bit, making you grin. “Salud.” He cleared his voice before he spoke and looked at you again as you took the shot. His eyes scanning every feature on your face, the way your curls were bouncing a bit while his heartrate started to pick up and his pants got a bit too tight for his liking.

You heard the familiar tune of the neighbourhood with daddy issues and all of your confidence flew out of the window while you felt your whole face heat up and a bit of embarrassment flowing through your body. You felt too embarrassed to put on a different song at this point. You tried to take a sneaky look at Pedro but was met with his brown eyes. He had a smirk, feeling that your confidence passed on to Pedro. His eyes were darker and filled with lust. You quickly looked away. You were wondering if this was the effect of the weed or if he was always just like that.

Flashes of that TikTok edit came to your mind with all of the sinful thoughts you had right now. You couldn’t shake the images out of your head. You would never tell him that you watched endlessly TikTok edits of your hot older neighbor that was at least 24 years older than you. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours sweetheart?” he asked you. You realized that you were deep, very deep in thought.

You played with the label that was placed on the corona bottle. You shook your head slightly. “Nothing important.” Pedro took a sip of his bottle, keeping eye contact with you and you felt the heat moving somewhere else as you squirmed just a bit in your chair. The silent that Pedro put in the conversation was unbearable as the air thickened around the two of you. “That’s good weed.” You commented with a slight chuckle. Pedro chuckled  “Yeah definitely” he looked at you and you couldn’t get enough of his eyes as you felt butterflies. “Oh I love this song! Dance with me!” Pedro’s excitement made you chuckle as he was already standing and held his hand out for you.

You giggled and took his large hand in yours and stood up. Pedro’s smile was contagious while his arm was around your waist and the other holding your hand. You felt like you were going to black out at this point. Your heart beating against your chest and it felt like your skin was on fire where he touched you. You grew very shy and couldn’t even look at him focusing on your shoes. “Hey, look at me, I’m right here.” He told you and placed a finger underneath your chin, looking up at him. His kind brown eyes connected with yours and you felt yourself go into a trance, all mushy. He smiled adoringly at you. “There you are.” He told you softly with a smile. “use your hips more baby.” he commented “I know you got it in you.” he told you with a slight wink.

You were officially a puddle in his hands right now. Did he know about your crush? Does he like you? He must if he says these things. And the pet name? Are you kidding me?!! You were completely lost in your head but yet still very much in the moment.

You knew how to use your hips but you didn’t feel that confident yet. “I’m afraid I need more tequila for that.” You giggled slightly, embarrassed while you looked at his chest, not able to make eye contact. Pedro let go off you with one hand, the other still tightly around your waist while he grabbed the bottle. He took a sip straight from the bottle while looking at you with a grin and passed it to you after he was done. You took some good gulps, hoping that it would work soon. Pedro probably mistaken your nervousness for uncomfortable and he let go immediately off you, never wanting to make you uncomfortable. You frowned a bit and looked at him confused. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I thought…” He told you and shook his head not wanting to finish his sentence and was ready to take his stuff and leave but you stopped him by grabbing his arm and letting your other hand rest on his chest.

Pedro looked at your hand that was on his chest and back to you. “I didn’t feel uncomfortable… I felt nervous…..” you told him shyly. It was silent and you looked up at him, a bit of fear visible in your eyes and Pedro’s eyes soften at you, turning his body completely towards you. His fingers softly going over your cheek before placing a curl behind your ear (or tried at least). “Nervous for what?” Pedro almost whispered as the air started to tighten around you again while his hand covered yours on his chest, taking your hand in his. You tried to look down but his finger was underneath your chin again, pulling you up. “I…. I ehhh think you now why.” Pedro’s eyes held more lust again. “I want you to tell me.” his voice still holding that gentleness.

You looked up, goosebumps covering your body. You made eye contact with Pedro and felt a rush of confidence going over you and you quickly placed your lips again his. Pedro knew it was going to happen but was still a bit shocked. You sighed in the kiss and held his shirt in your fist. Pedro sighed in the kiss as well. His arms around your waist, pulling you against his body while his other hand found your cheek, cupping it while he deepened the kiss. His hand that was resting on your hip dug into your skin causing you to moan in the kiss.

Pedro walked backwards, his hand searching for the doorknob without breaking the kiss as you both stumbled inside your home. The kiss turned into a lot of lust while your hands went over his body as well. His hand found your ass and he tightly grabbed it and you jumped into his arms as a reaction. “Bedroom?” he broke from the kiss, his lips plump just like yours from the heated kiss. You pointed to the door while you started to attack his neck and your hands going through his soft hair.

He opened the door, letting out a shaky breath as you sucked a spot in his neck. He carefully laid you down on the bed, hanging above you. You were both out of breath while you held intense eye contact. You wanted to grab his face so you could kiss him again, it was addictive but Pedro pulled back, making you frown. “Are you sure?” he asked you, looking intently into your eyes. “Yes” was all you could say as you lips crashed against yours again.

Your hands were in his hair and your body started to move on its own, pushing your hips up so you could grind against him. You were completely intoxicated by the man above you. He attached his mouth to your neck while his hand went over the curves from your body. God this man did things to you that he had no idea of. Finally Pedro let his body go closer to you and you grinded against his still growing bulge in his pants. You whimpered slightly, you were so needy for this man and he knew it.

His hands going slowly over your clit over your pants, making you whimper. “Daddy please.” You murmured, whines evident in your voice as you begged him. He stopped sucking the sweet spot in your neck and you felt shame and panic growing in your stomach. “what did you call me Chiquita?” his eyes looked amused by your sentence. Shame and panic left your body but shyness got in their space. “Come on, repeat it baby. What did you call me?” he had a smirk on his face as you whispered out “Daddy.” Pedro’s eyes went darker again while he leaned towards your ear, his breath on your cheek. “That’s right. I’m your daddy.” You turned your head a bit so you could kiss him again.

His hand going where you needed him the most but still over your pants. “Please daddy please!” you pleaded. Pedro had a smug smile on his face, fully enjoying this. His hands roamed over your body again before his hand finally disappeared into your jeans. Your hips grinding against his hands. Pedro felt how wet you were and groaned into your ears and he could feel the reaction his moans had on you while you clenched on his finger. He smiled and softly bit your ear lobe while you whimpered. His hand coming from your jeans and showed you how wet you were. You felt the heat creeping up your cheeks. “Is this all for me Chiquita?” He whispered in your ear. Your brain was so mushy that all you could do was nod.

He smiled and kissed you passionately before Pedro took your jeans off gently. His lips on your leg slowly going up while his hand caressed your leg. When his mouth got attached to your thigh, he made eye contact with you, his hot breath against your thigh while he torturously slow went up to your core which was covered by your panty. His thumb over your panty, circling your clit. You moaned out and arched your back. You wanted him, needed him. “Tell me what you want baby girl.” He whispered his voice still laced with comfort and softness. You whimpered out almost beggingly “I want you, papi.” The moment called him: “papi” his grin grew like you’ve never seen before and he took off your panty.

He placed a delicate kiss on your clit while looking at you with mischief. You let your head fall on your pillow, moaning out. You were sure that you were dripping at this point. You felt his tongue over your whole pussy, giving it a good lick before sucking on your clit. Your hand went through his hair, holding it carefully while he held your other hand, letting it rest on your stomach while he intertwined his fingers with yours. He looked up at you with his big brown cow eyes while he ate you out was enough to make you cum.

Pedro noticed that you were close and slowly put his finger in your entrance and curled it, playing with your g-spot. You gasped out and squeezed his hand tightly, your other hand clutching on his hair, making it messy. “Daddy, I’m close, please don’t stop.” You begged him. Pedro let go of your hand and held your hips a bit up in a tight lock, making it unable for you to move while his eyes watched your expressions close and intensely. Before you knew it a rush of ecstasy washed over you as Pedro kept going, almost overstimulating you.

His grip loosened and Pedro hang above you again with an adoring look as you tried to catch your breath, looking mesmerized at Pedro, his hair all messy from your hand in it. You pulled him for a kiss. His hands roaming over your body again. You pushed Pedro softly on his back and sat on his lap, kissing him again. Pedro gently cupping your cheeks. Some of your curls fell onto his forehead and he pulled it back. You started to grind on his dick through his pants. Your orgasm left a wet spot on his pants while you kept grinding. Pedro held your hips tightly and let his head fall on your pillow, letting out a groan. “There you go mamacita. Keep doing that.” You felt your stomach flutter from the nickname. “I had some other things in mind.” You told him and got off from his lap.

Pedro looked at you while you undid his pants. “Let me take care of you now daddy.” You told him, knowing it got to him. He groaned when you pulled his cock out and didn’t waist a second before going down, slobbering all over. God this man was build differently and it made your mouth water and your pussy clench by the idea of him in you. It definitely was a sloppy blowjob and from the sounds Pedro made, he enjoyed it very much so. He cursed underneath his breath with gasps. His hand found your hair and held your curls in his hand, holding it away from your face. You made eye contact with Pedro and he let out a moan and let his head fall on the pillow from the amount of pleasure that you were giving him.

“Fuck…., Baby if you keep doing that I’m going to cum.” He told you and got you off from him, carefully laying you on your back again and Pedro above you. He kissed you passionately like he had never done before, taking your breath away as you both moaned in the kiss. “I need you Papi, please, please.” Your eyes begged him and Pedro had to control himself so he wouldn’t cum by just your begging already. “God you are something else baby girl.” You crashed your lips against his again.

You took his sweater off and he took your oversized hoodie off as well, softly undoing your bra and the moment you were completely naked in front of him, he looked mesmerized at you with a smile before laying above you again and pulling you back in a passionate kiss. Your hand slowly going over his chest, belly and towards his cock. You held his cock in your hands and Pedro gasped slightly when you guided it to your entrance. Pedro stopped kissing you while you guided him into your entrance. His thumb softly rubbing your cheek for comfort. You put the tip in and you were dripping on the sheets when you pushed him in slowly before Pedro took over.

You whimpered, your eyes tightly shut from the pain and pleasure. He was stretching you out but he did it slowly while he groaned out as well. When he was fully in he waited so you could get used to his size. “Look at me mama.” He told you and you opened your eyes carefully. You saw Pedro looking at you with all the love radiating from his eyes. “You’re going to be okay. If it hurts, you tell me okay?” you nodded and Pedro kissed your forehead, making you feel all fuzzy and clingy. “Please daddy, I want to feel you. I want you close.” You begged and Pedro slowly started to move while he kept looking at you to see if you were okay.

His cock was coated by your juices, making him moan out. You put your arms around his shoulder, pulling him closer to your body. You craved the skin to skin contact. He sat up with you still hanging on him as a koala. He sat up straight, his cock deep buried inside of you. “Ride me baby, show daddy what you can do.” He told you, your arms still wrapped around his shoulders while you started to grind on his dick. His hands on your hips, pushing you deeper on his cock. You started to grind faster, feeling the euphoric feeling coming closer. “Papi…” you whispered out, followed by moans as you clenched on his dick. Pedro placed his arms tightly around you, pushing your chest against his in a hug. You started to shake on his cock, Pedro moaning out as a reaction while you clenched on his cock. “There you go princesa” Pedro grumbled out.

He laid down on his back, you still on top of him. You kept riding him while he took in every part of your body. “My god, your angelic.” He told you and pulled you down as he cupped your cheeks and kissed you deeply before putting his arms around you again and started to pound you out. You gasped at the sudden speed and the way it hit your g-spot perfect. Pedro cursed underneath his breath when he felt your juices flowing out of you. You were squirting before you could even realize that it happened. Pedro moaned and tried to catch his breath, feeling you shake above him.

You collapsed on his chest and kissed him while you were still out of breath. His hair sticking to his forehead from sweat and you brushed them gently out of the way while

Pedro’s eyes followed you, completely intoxicated by you. His hands caressing your waist and curves. Pedro moved his hand to the back of your neck and pushed you down so he could kiss you. You heard Pedro moan in this kiss which caused you to clench around his dick again. Pedro grumbled and pushed you softly over so he could fuck you on your back.

His eyes were a bit darker, connected with yours as he pushed his cock back into you, causing you to gasp. Pedro held your legs as he pounded into you. Pedro was close to while you chased your own orgasm again. “Come in me, please come in me, daddy” Pedro grumbled out and laid on top of you, holding you close. The way he moaned in your ear, pounded you out and held you so gentle at the same time made you cum in no time again. “That’s it baby, come on papi’s dick. Clench on my cock Chiquita” You felt his own cum shooting deep inside of you. Pedro cursed in between grumbles, getting down from his own high. His head buried between your neck and shoulder until he calmed down and let it rest on your shoulder while you went with your hands through his hair, trying to catch your own breath.

Pedro rolled on his back, pulling you with him so he could hug you. You went with your fingertips over his chest, Pedro kissing your head and massaging your scalp. “So I was right? You really do have a crush on me.” Pedro said chuckling as you pushed him away as a joke and rolled your eyes but your smile said enough. Pedro pulled you back into his chest while laughing. “I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry. If it helps, I have a crush too….” Pedro whispered the last part in your ear, making you look at him. You both just watched each other for moment until you both chuckled. “Can you please stay tonight? I don’t want to be alone right now.” you told him and Pedro smiled lovingly at you. “I’ll stay as long as you want and need me to, princesa” you smiled from all the butterflies in your stomach.

Pedro held you tighter and you let him, craving his comfort. “Let’s stay here for a bit longer.” He told you, making you look up and kiss him gently. After a gentle and loving make-out session, both clinging to each other as you closed your eyes, happy that the shitty day didn’t end shitty

[the-californicationist]

Let's get you to 100, new gif addition and prompt ask!

Reader likes being controlled, even as she chafes against it, but there's only 1 person she wants to have that privilege.

You decide who, have fun writing lovely 😏

heyyy!! im backkkkkkk 😘 sorry for the wait! had to go on a bit of a hiatus, so thanks for being patient. and thank you so much for the ask!! sexy as hell babes omg. hope you like it. i went a little overboard on the word count sorry 🫣

TW: light bdsm and contol themes, rough sex

Soft Reins

His voice followed you down the wet sidewalk as you made your escape, striding in long reaching steps to put more distance between yourself and your apartment. 

“C’mon, bonnie! Ye cannae walk in this shite. It’s pissin’ down. Bonnie!”

You waved and smiled up at Soap as he hung over the balcony of your shared space, a deep frown pasted across his mouth as he tried to dodge the raindrops. 

Living with the boys, as you lovingly called them, was full of challenges. For one, they seemed to be oblivious to deep cleaning of any kind, and if you didn’t have the primary school style chore chart hanging on the fridge, your whole house would descend into chaos. The only exception was their captain, and his standards were thankfully on par with your own. 

But, even worse, they were nosey. They seemed to love to be in your business, always making excuses to join you on nights out, standing in an all-too-intimidating pack when you brought home dates from said outings. Even Price was not above casually bullying an unsuspecting potential someone. It was enough to drive a girl mad.

You never got a call back. Any bloke brave enough to follow you back to your place, flanked by your surly entourage, was only as courageous as he needed to be to get his dick wet. After that, he’d ghost you. There were plenty of eligible partners who had much less intimidating roommates. 

In the past year, the longest relationship you had was with a man who didn’t make it over to your house for nearly four months. You had gone through all sorts of trouble to keep the boys from finding out about him, and you guarded his address like it was the nuclear launch codes. You thought you were in the clear when the team had to leave for another deployment, but one morning — when you were wearing only your boyfriend’s tee shirt — they decided to come tromping back in, totally unannounced. 

It was all over, then. Back to the drawing board. 

Gaz was the worst offender by far. Once, when you had planned a spa date for yourself, you’d been treated to all sorts of services that you didn’t order. The staff kept insisting that it was complimentary, but you knew in your heart that it wasn’t. By the end of the visit, you were left fretting about the bill. But, when you walked up to the counter, you discovered that it had already been paid. 

 “Oh! Your mister called it in. Already paid.” The clerk’s smile was blinding in only the way a clerk’s smile could be.

“And who is the mister?” You smiled to yourself, not with much joy, shoving your credit card back into your wallet.

“Well, he said he was your mister. A Mr. Garrick?”

Of course. 

You had only to turn around to see his shining red Beamer revved and waiting to take you to lunch. Gaz’s sunglasses gleamed in the daylight as he grinned down at you, standing over his car, his elbows resting on the roof, smug as could be.

You met him in the parking lot, bags and bags of essential oils and spa creams, heavy in your hands.

“Kyle,” you said curtly, “What did you do?”

“Nothin’, babes. Get in. We’ve got a table at that sushi joint you like.”

You complained that Gaz was overstepping. You moaned about Soap being heavy-handed. You lost your temper when you found the fourteenth Air Tag that Ghost had sewn into the bottom of your trainers. It was too much. You hated feeling trapped, and you thrived in your independence. But, living with these men meant that your desire for freedom was directly at odds with their desire for control. 

It wasn’t their fault, really. That was who they were. They were good at their high-profile special operation world-saving careers because they were good at control. It was what made them great soldiers. 

But, one of them was far better at it than the others. 

Captain John Price didn’t follow you down the street. He didn’t chase you in his shadowy, blacked-out Evija. And he certainly didn’t need to hide trackers in your clothes. No; his control was insidious. It made your blood boil, and it had you questioning your every move. He had a way of making you think that what he wanted was what you wanted, and when you ultimately discovered his plans, you could only blame yourself. Price was the king of control, but that wasn’t the worst part. 

The worst part was that you liked it. 

You hadn’t been home for the holidays in years. Ever since lockdown, and your huge workload at your office, you just couldn’t find the time to make it back. International flights were hard to plan, expensive, and it seemed like something always came up. When you mentioned it off-handedly to Price, he’d comforted you, 

“Tha’s alright, sweetheart. I’m sure you’ll find the time this year.”

That was in June. By December, your boss had mysteriously found out that you had a full week of extra paid time off that you needed to take, and your credit card called you to let you know that your airline mileage points had doubled. It was as if everything in the universe had aligned so that you could make it back to your family. 

You’d told the boys over dinner one night, and they celebrated with you, happy for you to be able to finally live your dream. Then, Price had grabbed your phone, reading the email and going over the fine print. 

It grated on you, but you needed to learn how to pick your battles in this house. So, you waited for his approval, tight-lipped. 

“Double miles… ah, there’s a catch,” his voice rumbled in his chest, low and even. 

“What catch?” You panicked. Nothing could upset this perfect balance you’d achieved.

He pointed down to the conditions, and you read it for yourself as he told you,

“Says here they granted double miles for two tickets purchased.”

“Two? Who the fuck am I going to get to come to Saskatoon in December?” You sighed, head in your hands, trying to figure out how you were going to make it work.

“Well, the boys are heading up to check on MacTavish’s mum, but Kate’s got me on a leash. I can ask her to make me remote on this project, if you want.”

His tone wasn’t sly. It didn’t sound like he was hiding something. If anything, he sounded earnest, and it was such a kind gesture of friendship that he would be willing to join you in order to help you see your folks. 

But, that’s what wormed its way under your skin. You knew it was him. You just couldn’t prove it. Months of God knows what kind of backdoor, black-market dealing and manipulation, all orchestrated just to…

Just to what? Make you happy?

Inwardly, you struggled against your bindings, the invisible ropes he’d so carefully weaved just to have you come to him of your own free will, bent on your hands and knees, obedient and eager for your reward.

“Jonathan…” You started to resist, to rebel. Every time you started your sentence, you were stopped in your tracks by the cold, hard truth: He didn’t force you to do anything. You’d done it all of your own free will. 

That was how it had started. But, holy fuck had it escalated. 

Price was the perfect gentleman on your flight over, mysteriously charming his way into business class seats. He downloaded some of your favorite movies onto his iPad, even though you didn’t remember ever telling him that they were your favorites. He even snuck his way back to the flight attendants’ galley, laughing and joking with them, procuring you two extra desserts from the carts since you were such a fan. 

Then, he met your family, and he fit in perfectly. It was as if he was the missing member, a long lost kin, just waiting to be reunited into the fold. Your mother couldn’t figure out what had you so bothered. 

“About time you brought a good one home. Even your Uncle Billy likes him, and Billy —”

You rolled your eyes, 

“And Billy doesn’t like anyone, I know. I know.”

“Honey,” your mother looked at you with a sternness that she didn’t often muster, peering at you over her rose-rimmed glasses, “Why can’t you just let someone take care of you for a change? He’s a good man.”

A good man. 

John Price was a killer. No, he was worse. He was a CIA-funded, black ops, government-overthrowing war machine, capable of literal atrocities. You hadn’t heard much, but you’d heard enough. If any of these people knew how quickly he could turn a crowded room into an empty one, none of them would be looking so fondly at the way he snuggled with the dog or complimented your dad’s knife collection. 

But, that wasn’t why you protested, was it? If you were really being honest with yourself, the reason why you were so against letting Jonathan War Machine Price run your life was that it was yours to run. You didn’t need anyone’s help.

You didn’t need it.  

You could handle things on your own. 

You liked being able to spread your wings, fly your own path…

You were nobody’s puppet.

But, you were starting to like the way he was pulling your strings. When he would take the pressure of choice away from you, after you’d already been making a million other decisions at the end of a long day, it eased something inside of you in a way that nothing else could. It was like he was using those huge, rough palms to massage the hurt out of your head, to show you that it didn’t need to be such a battle, you didn’t need to keep fighting. He would do the fighting for you, and he was determined to show you that he was good at it. 

Even now, as you stomped through the rain, you knew what you were running from. You told yourself you were avoiding John, that you wouldn’t let him see you struggling to hold yourself together. After a much needed switch into a different position at work, the stress of your own expectations weighed heavy on you. But, you wanted them to. You wanted to know that you could still make it alone. You didn’t need John Price. 

But, you’re wearing the slicker he bought for you when yours got left in a cab.

So?

But, you smell like oud, saffron, and bergamot; the perfume oils he found for you at that local boutique you love. The same one he always compliments when he smells you wearing it. 

So?

But, you’re tired and wet and cold, and all you want is for him to tell you what you want.

So?! 

The soft, amber glow of a cigar stopped you in your tracks. A man was sitting on your bus stop bench, his arm slung over the back of the seat, his legs spread wide, taking up as much space as he liked. He was smoking slowly, enjoying every breath, savoring the flavors. Flavors you knew all too well: vanilla, licorice, sweet cedar, and whiskey. 

His sharp, blue eyes only met yours when you let out a labored sigh.

“What are you doing here, John?”

He took another drag, letting the ashes smolder, their warm glow making him look more and more like the Devil, a fallen man bathed in the light of a fire he lit all by himself. And damn proud of the blaze, too. 

“Just waitin’ for my ride,” he smiled in the way that a cat must smile at a mouse under its paw, “Do you wanna sit down, sweetheart?”

“No! I don’t wanna sit down,” you threw up your hands, “I want you to stop meddling in my life. You’re not allowed to keep making me feel like… like I need someone… some — Like I need someone’s fucking help. I don’t need anyone but me.”

His tone shifted in a sudden heat, like a flash in the pan, unexpected,

“Do you think I have any bloody help?”

Price let the question sink in before standing in front of you, his gaze never leaving your eyes. His voice was soft and gravelly, thick with smoke, and yet each and every word cut into you as sharp as a blade,

“Do you think anyone comes to help me when I’m deep in some bullshit, fuckin’ around in Rammaza? Just me, is it? By myself?”

“I don’t… no, I don’t know…” You hated how small your voice sounded in this tiny bus stop hut, the pounding rain drowning out your words. 

John looked at you as if he was waiting on you to find another answer, and then his face softened. He flung the cigar onto the pavement and crushed it out under his boot, smashing the tobacco into the cement without mercy. The object of his affection, once consumed, now snuffed out under his own power. 

His hands wrapped around your shoulders, caging you in, warm and safe from the wind blocked by his broad back. He sighed, his mouth drawing a tight line across his face, 

“Of course I need fuckin’ help. I have my men, and they have me. And I keep you here,” he jammed a finger hard into his chest, “Deep inside me, remindin’ me what I need to come home to. I’m not… meddling in your life, love. I’m trying to put you in mine. I thought…” 

He pulled away, sitting back down, looking up at you with a unique look on his face, 

“I thought that’s what you wanted. If I’m wrong,” he let out a dark, bitter chuff, “You need to tell me right now. ‘Cause all my plans have you in them.”

The rain made the plexiglass roof sound like it was shattering, over and over, the concussive slam of the storm created an oppressive din. He was waiting there, looking at you, asking for your next move. What was your plan?

“Am I wrong, sweetheart?”

You waited, trying to see how many steps ahead he was in front of you. If you said yes, if you said no; what decisions had already been made for you? Did he know what you were going to say before you did? And the real question: Why were you fighting so hard against something you wanted so badly?

You shook your head back and forth, just enough for him to see. HIs eyes lit up with hope and energy, a renewed flame.

“Then, come home with me. Quit bein’ so bloody hard on yourself. Let’s get you dry, love. C’mon.”

So, you obeyed. 

Nothing was more humbling than climbing into a squat little sports car when you were drenched to the bone. You curled yourself right into his cage, feeling silly for ever wanting to escape from it. Why were you pulling so hard against such soft reins? Couldn’t you see that he wanted to take care of you? To remove all of your barriers, to clear your path? You would be more powerful under his wing, soaring far beyond what you were capable of on your own. Why deny yourself a bite of the apple? It was ripe, the snake had promised, and sweet. 

He helped you up the stairs to your flat, walking you past his men as they gathered together in the kitchen, speechless, for once. None of them dared question their captain’s choices, and he had chosen you. More than that, it was clear that you had chosen him. 

Once you were in his room, behind a locked door, he held up a hand and stopped you in the entryway, shivering and dripping by the door. 

“Wait here.”

You waited. 

You waited some more. 

Just when you thought you would turn around and take yourself to bed, he returned dressed in a dry tee and a pair of running shorts. He carried two large, fluffy towels, and his face was set into a serious mask. All business. 

“Take off your clothes.”

You hesitated, looking at him to make sure you heard him correctly. 

He met your gaze, standing so close to you that you could feel his breath against your cheek. His chest was inches from your face, and you had to look up in order to meet his eyes.

“Take.”

He grabbed your phone out of your hand and dropped it on his entry table.

“Off.”

He rucked the jacket off of your back, peeling it down your arms and letting it fall to the ground with a wet slap.

“Your.” 

His fingers pulled the tie out of your ruined braid, letting the elastic roll onto his wrist. 

“Clothes.”

His hands went back to his side. It was up to you to do the rest. He wasn’t here to do everything for you. You were not his plaything. You had to choose to obey him. He wanted to watch you choose to follow his orders, not because you needed to, but because you wanted to.

Slowly, and a bit unsure, you began to shed your layers. You started with your shirt, almost knocking into him with your elbows since he was towering over you, standing in your space. Then, you writhed out of your jeans, peeling them off of your legs, kicking away your shoes in the process, stepping gingerly out of your socks, needing to hold onto his thick trunk for balance. 

Now, in just your bra and panties, you waited, hoping he’d hand you a towel. 

“What did I say?” He asked in a hushed tone, the timbre containing just enough warning to make your cheeks hot. 

“No, John. The boys are here in the kitchen!” You protested, whispering in a low hiss. 

This was beyond what you expected from him. You’d been keeping him at arm’s length, despite his constant pressure to be in your life. Sure, there had been moments of weakness. You’d shared a kiss, and you had let his hands wander when you watched a movie together on the sofa last weekend, but that was as far as things had gone. Stripping naked in the bright light of his apartment suite was something else entirely. Not to mention what sort of noises would seep out under his doorway if things got out of hand. 

“Stop,” he grabbed you by your face with both hands, making you look at him, “Stop fighting me. I am in this. All the way. The only time I wanna hear you tell me no is when you really mean it. If you say stop, I will immediately stop. Do I make myself clear?”

You nodded. He released you and put his hands on his hips, impatient. 

So, you slid out of your bra, slowly letting the cups pull away from your breasts, the lace cold and damp on your skin as it joined your outfit on the floor. As you rolled your panties off of your hips, stepping out of them and shoving them under your jacket with your toe, you felt more than just naked. You felt vulnerable and a little scared. 

What would he say? What did he plan to do? You realized, with a chilly shudder, that you didn’t even know his personal preferences. He’d never even given you a cursory glance into his mind, and reading his thoughts was impossible with that serious poker face. Most men wore their thoughts right across their eyes, or some (like Soap) even muttered them aloud, unconcerned about any judgment or scrutiny. If a man wanted you, you’d know. They were an open book. 

But the captain was very hard to read. 

Suddenly, as you stood back up, warring with your own mind, you were surrounded in fuzzy, comforting warmth. He was drying you off, wiping your arms and legs with reverent care, squeezing the rain out of your hair, using the corner of the cloth to wipe your face, holding you in his arms when you felt weak, off-balance, exhausted. 

It seemed as if the more you relaxed into him, the more power you gave up, the more it began to stoke his fire. While you became soft and pliant, he shifted into a fierce protector, covering you with his hands, bracing you with his heavy bones.

Price wrapped your hair into a high bun with an unexpected level of skill, and he carefully stretched your hair tie around it. When he turned to face you, you caught him staring at your body, raking his eyes over your breasts and studying the curve of your mons. It was as if he was groping you with his eyes, and each swipe of his gaze felt like a lick from his warm tongue. It was enough of an invasion that you wanted to put your hands in front of yourself, to hide out of some sort of shame.  

But when you made a move to cover yourself, the look in his eyes was enough to make you stand with your hands at your sides, allowing yourself to be on full display for him and that ravenous glare. He hadn’t even needed to chastise you. His mere desire was enough of a correction. 

Then, almost like a reward, he wrapped the towel around you, letting you hold it tight to your chest. 

“Tell me what’s goin’ on inside that pretty head,” he commanded you, his voice quiet but firm. It was just a simple question, but you knew it was loaded. So, you brushed him off, tossing out cheap bait, wrapping the towel a little tighter around yourself, hoping he’d drop it. You shrugged,

“Just cold.”

His jaw set with a click, and that soft purr became a warning growl,

“That’s one,” he held up his finger, “The next lie will cost you that towel, pretty girl.”

You stared at him blankly, trying to find a way through this labyrinth he had — apparently — custom built for you, sending you down twists and turns and dead ends as if he knew exactly how you’d try to steal back some control. But every way out seemed like a worse fate than simply allowing yourself to trust him. Nevertheless, you tried again. 

“I am cold, and I’m tired. It’s been a long day, John,” you sighed, shifting towards him, trying your best to take back the lead to his strange dance, “C’mon, don’t you wanna take me to bed?”

You reached out a hand and snaked it under the hem of his shirt, exploring untouched skin, letting your nails scrape through a dark patch of thick hair, right above his waistband. Your fingers got as far as his navel before he snapped. 

The cold absence of him ripping the towel away from you felt worse than you expected it to. In fact, you hadn’t actually taken him seriously. You protested, indignant,

“Hey! What —-“

“You think this is the same game you’ve always played,” he snarled, throwing the towel away and shoving you to your knees, his hold crushing and cruel on the nape of your neck, “You think, because those lads will eat any scraps you throw to them,” he nodded behind you, gesturing toward his men only a thin wall away, “That I’ll be satisfied with a taste, hm?”

His tone was mocking, and there was an undercurrent of darkness that lingered between each word like a warning, like the red of a poisonous berry that shouldn’t be picked and yet sagged ripe and ready on its stem. 

“You always get your way with them, don’cha? You know that a bit of skin and a little attention will keep them on you for days. And they reward you for it. They text you at all hours of the fuckin’ night, beggin’ you for just one more look, one more bite,” his mouth was right next to your ear, bending over you, casting his shadows across your face, and all you could do was kneel there, fully under his control, unable to move against his immense strength, “But, that’s not what I want.”

Your eyes dared to slant over to the growing monster that pressed its warm body against his shorts, hanging heavy and stretching the fabric, and you dared to hiss at him, even in your compromised position, using his title like a knife, aiming to scrape him with it,

“Seems like you do, Captain.”

He smirked, you could feel his smile against the sensitive skin of your earlobe, and you could see his almost infernal expression out of the corner of your eye. Even though you were trying to get under his skin, it made you feel like you were playing right into his hand yet again, helpless to his will. 

He stood up, never letting go of his grip on your neck, pinching the muscle like you were a caught rabbit, his writhing prey. Then, with a force that made your stomach drop, Price shoved your cheek into the crotch of his shorts, bringing you face to face with the outline his swelling shaft. Your nose was buried in the fabric, and you could smell the soap of his detergent as well as the musk of his sex that throbbed underneath. 

Then, he rucked down his waistband to show himself to you, pressing his length along your cheek, the softness of his skin surprising you just as much as the size of his thick, hefty prick. 

He held your neck in one hand and his cock in the other as he began to stroke himself up and down, letting your temple  and cheekbone feel the slip of his velvet foreskin. You could hear soft, wet clicking sounds as he coated himself in his own fluid, using the clear, dripping pearls as lube. 

You tried to move your jaw to taste him, eager to know if the heady, intoxicating smell of his skin matched his precome, hungry for his reaction to your mouth. But he stopped you, tightening his grip and scolding you like a naughty pet,

“My body wants your body, love. I’ll admit that,” he chuckled, not halting his lurid, jerking pulls, using your cheek for friction, “But I want more. I don’t want a taste. Or a bite. I won’t be satisfied.”

He frowned a bit, shrugging off his confession before he continued, 

“I want you to trust me. Trust that I’ll be here for you, that I’ll always be here. So,” he tugged on your flesh, forcing you to meet his fiery gaze, “Tell me what you thought.”

What were you supposed to say? That you were insecure about your looks? That you weren’t sure if he’d approve? That you were either too much or not enough and you weren’t sure which?

You turned your mouth as much as you could, trying to at least lick along the warm underbelly of his rod, aching to taste him, but he jerked you back into place, laughing at the disappointment on your face,

“Lips to yourself, love. Only good girls get fed.”

You rolled your eyes up to him, and you knew you had to make a choice. He was joking, but it was a façade. He was using it like a shield, waiting to see if you would actually relinquish your control or if you’d cut and run like you did with everyone else. 

So, you decided to trust him, giving him what he wanted, a full confessional on burning, bent knees, eyes cast up at your new master, praying for his communion, your tongue eager for his body and his blood and his love.

You made sure his eyes were locked on yours as you spoke softly, unflinching in your resolve,

“I was worried you wouldn’t like what you saw. I needed you to want me. I was afraid.”

The relief that washed over him was nearly palpable. His whole body responded to your admission, all of that tightly-wound uncertainty melting away in the heat of your submission to him. 

“That’s it. Good,” his voice was heavy with his relief, and he almost seemed like he was slipping into a trance, rubbing himself in steady, long strokes, shuddering against your cheek, “And what now, hm? You want me to let you go? Let you free? Or are you gonna let me in?”

You didn’t break your eye contact with him, but you wavered, sure of your decision but overwhelmed when you had to say it out loud. You squeezed your thighs together, feeling the slick mess he was forging between them, trying to find some comfort. You took a breath and told him,

“I’ll let you in, John.”

His throat held back a long, low groan, the pleasure of your surrender or the pleasure of his hand forcing it from his chest. You weren’t sure which. 

His grip loosened on your neck, but he didn’t let go. His voice was barely above a whisper as he told you his rules in hushed, broken phrases, holding himself back from the edge,

“You belong to me, now, sweetheart. You might be in charge at your bloody job, but everything else is mine. Do you hear me?”

You were going to answer him, you’d even planned to tack on a cheeky little yes, sir, just to show him you were playing along, but he had other plans. Always a step ahead. Before you could even breathe to speak, he pressed the tender head of his cock between your lips and deep into the warm hollow of your mouth, his wide form forcing your jaw to fall open to let him inside of you. It shocked you to be taken that way, not roughly but so certainly, with such surety, as if there was no other choice but for him to take you. You shifted, but with his knuckles tight against the base of your skull, you couldn’t retreat. Other than lolling your tongue along the body of his shaft, or swallowing against its drooling tip, you were powerless. 

His face twisted into a hungry sort of smear full of teeth and lips, grimacing at the feeling of being surrounded by you. Every inch that he drove himself deeper, his breathing would halt until at last, as he buried himself into your clenching throat, his lungs had emptied, and he was sighing with a ragged, guttural cry. 

“When you’re with me…” He continued his dark promises to you, the words choppy and broken, only threaded loosely together between panting gasps, “Even when I’m a fuckin’ world away, I promise that I will take care of you,” he pet your cheek with the softest affection, admiring you like a work of art, “All of you. You will sleep when I say. You will eat when I say. You will come when I say,” he smiled a little more cruelly at that, watching your eyes widen. And, as you began to wish for air, planting your palms against his firm, muscular thighs, ready to push away, he looked down at you with a lurid satisfaction, “You will breathe when I say.”

You were choking. You could hear yourself in the quiet of his room, your throat gurgling, full of your own viscous drool, escaping where it could along the stretched line of your mouth, running down your chin and neck. You felt the flare of panic rise up within you, and you tried to pull away in earnest, writhing against his grip, trying to escape from him and failing, turning your body in shameful futility. 

Price bent his face toward you, folding himself to whisper his lustful words, making sure your eyes met his, pressing your nose into his soft pubic hair,

“You. Breathe. When. I. Say.”

He kept himself contorted like that, keeping his face low to watch your eyes, to witness your struggle, and you felt hot tears burn down your face, the effort overcoming you. But, you wanted to show him that you could obey. You wanted to trust him, to show him that you were willing to give him your freedom, knowing that only he was worthy of such a gift. So, you swallowed deeply, watching as it made his eyes flutter, and again, and again. Over and over, you closed your throat around his steel-hard length, choking when it became too much. 

Still, he kept you there. As brave as you’d been with partners in the past, even those moments were fully eclipsed by this one. You had never even thought that you might be capable of holding your breath for so long. 

You were sobbing wholeheartedly now, your eyes reflecting your desperation, tears pooling and spilling across your face. He was watching you cry, whispering breathless nothings, soft words of encouragement,

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. You’re so fuckin’ good. My good girl.”

Just as purple and blue spots began to obscure your vision, he pulled himself out of you in a terrible, wet departure, leaving you clutching his hips, sobbing into his belly, watching his hard cock pounding, swaying at full height, swollen with blood and eager for its finish. You could feel those same soft, dark hairs matting down as your tears soaked into them. He ran his fingers through your hair, keeping the fallen strands out of your face, still holding you at your nape, but just to comfort you. 

You imagined him letting go, and you felt… sad, somehow. He would have to release you at some point, but you were in such a submissive state, just the idea of him leaving you without his guiding hand was too much to bear. 

Your cries turned to a twisted kind of grief, and when he heard your tone change, he dropped to the floor with you, holding you to his chest, rocking you back and forth, shushing you and talking to you in a hushed voice,

“Shh, baby. Tell me to stop. Tell me…”

You grasped at him wildly, uncontrolled, holding onto whatever part of him you could, shaking your head,

“No, no. Don’t — don’t let me go. Please, I can’t… I need… I need you to touch me.”

You planted one of your hands across his, covering the one that gripped your neck, pressing it like a plaster, like it was keeping a wound healed, like it was a dam in front of your frothing, vengeful river; it was a lifeline and you were adrift. 

“Sweetheart,” he sighed, “I’m not gonna let you go. I’m right here. Shh. Shh. It’s alright. I’m here. C’mon. Come with me.”

He lifted you, helping you walk on sore, shaking legs, your nerves sparking across your skin. Then, with his hand still firmly planted against your neck, he led you like a shepherd with his lamb, marching you to his bedroom. As you approached the bedframe, your thighs hit the mattress, and Price guided you forward until your body lay flat against it. The duvet was cool and smooth against your belly and breasts, and you tucked your arms into yourself, looking for warmth. 

You felt John plant gentle kisses across your back, trailing them down your spine, and after the overstimulation you had just gone through, even his lightest touch was electric. 

Your tears had stopped, but still you panted, sniffling, trembling from the shock of his careful kisses, waiting for whatever would come next. 

You felt his hips press against your exposed ass cheeks, his shorts now missing, and all you could sense was his warm, furry skin. You sighed into it, happy for the connection. 

“Spread your legs,” he commanded.

You complied immediately, all of your tortured resistance gone from you now, ready to trust him to take care of you. 

The unknown was what made your belly swarm with butterflies, and as you waited for his next move, your mind raced with possibilities. 

Would he be cruel? Would he punish you for your lying when he had first taken you in? His hand might strike your tender flesh, slapping your ass and leaving red, angry marks. 

Would he be lustful? Your mind fed you imaginary moments where he would press his cock into your pussy, skipping any foreplay, simply using you like his warm, wet toy. You thought that he wanted more, something more intimate, but if not, you would let him. You were his to use. At this point, you were so pliant, so open to his will, he could use you over and over and you would take him. It was a dark confidence you had never known until now. 

Perhaps he would simply stop. Maybe he perceived you as weak, as if you couldn’t take what he wanted to give you. He would simply comfort you, pitying you for your wrecked state. It was this thought that turned your stomach. Surely, he knew you better than that. John Price was not the pitying type. 

As the base of his cock lay nestled in the cleft of your ass, still as hard as a stone, his long shaft was shoved up against his lower abdomen, pulsing with unslaked desire. Then, as he settled himself, pleased with your spread display, John began to slip the very tips of his fingers into your pussy. He was just feeling your softness, plucking at your petals, laying them open with his hand, using your own wetness to paint your lips and the tight muscle of your hole, preparing you for more. 

His voice broke the trance that his touch had put you in, 

“It kills me when I have watch you putting yourself through hell. You are so strong, but you deserve to have everything you want. Everything you need, I’ll make sure you have it. I promise.”

He was so sincere, and his voice sounded so sure. It was like he was sharing an old memory, something he knew by heart. 

“John, please…” You whispered, feeling yourself slipping, slowly becoming untangled by his touch. You needed more, but you had no words. You could barely concentrate, and your mind was swimming in a liminal space, trapped in a loop of mounting bliss. 

“What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me.”

“I don’t know,” you felt your tears return, and although you were desperate for something, you couldn’t find the answer. 

“Shh, shh, shh. You’re alright,” John rubbed your back with his free hand, smoothing your skin with his warm touch, “Does my pretty girl need to come?”

You nodded, daring to glance over your shoulder at him as he worked on you, his finger now sinking deeper into you, gently prodding your walls in long, aching circles. His other fingers were cradling your folds, slipping between them with each undulating thrust, brushing beside the swelling body of your clit and making you throb with need. 

He felt it, and you saw a warm smile spread across his face,

“I can feel you needin’ me. So wet for me. Fightin’ me so bloody hard. Thought I’d be wantin’ you forever. Do you know how many nights I’ve dreamed of havin’ you under me like this? Fuck, I need you so badly, baby.”

You felt his grip tighten on your neck again as he pressed you deeper into the soft mattress, his prying hand picking up the pace. His thick finger finally slipped down to the knuckle of his fist. As he fucked you on his hand, you could hear your body’s slick as it softened for him, submitting to his power just as you had done, your body at peace with your mind. 

He pressed a second finger beside his first, twisting them together, curling the tips to rub you from the inside, making you feel the deep ache of your orgasm building within your belly. 

You tried to find more friction, rocking your hips against the bed, squeezing your legs together, needing more but completely helpless to his pace and pressure. 

Price stopped, pushing his fingers right into the tender flesh of your neck as a warning,

“Open,” he shoved your foot away, spreading them for you, “You keep fighting and fighting… fine. I’ll give you something to fight for, hm?”

You tried to twist your knees together again, but his legs stood apart, holding you open. Then, you felt his threat. He put the head of his heavy prick against your greedy hole, dipping it into your wetness like a seal into warm, melting wax.

“C’mon,” he squeezed your nape hard, once, just enough to get your attention, “You wanna drive? Fuckin’ drive, love. You think you can fuck yourself better than I can fuck you? Prove it.”

You narrowed your eyes, glaring at him, watching the muscles ripple and pop in his forearm that held you down, unwilling to give you full control, and yet allowing you to set the pace. You saw his other hand rub the curve of your hip, dropping lower to grope your ass, egging you on. 

Unwilling to beg, you thrust yourself down onto his shaft, gasping from his girth, only managing to fit half of him inside of you, physically unable to go any deeper on your own. But, you tried again, lifting away, sinking back, repeating your movements and reaching between your legs to rub your clit as you fucked him.

But, it wasn’t enough. You felt so close to the edge, and yet you couldn’t tumble over it, losing your rhythm, chasing it down, too weak to reach the peak you knew was right within your grasp. 

You grunted in frustration, and his cruel laugh made you turn back towards him again. 

He shrugged,

“I thought you wanted to be in charge. Does it feel good, sweetheart?”

“Fuck!” You gasped, trying to catch your pleasure and feeling it slip from you yet again, humping your hips against the bed shameless and desperate. 

“Tch,” Price gripped the inside of your ass cheek, shaking it and rolling your soft flesh in his hand, “Too bad, love. I wanted to give it to you. Shame, really.”

“John! Please,” you caved, sobbing out a short moan, begging him impatiently. 

“Please, what?” His question came just as he decided to press himself deeper into your body than you had been able to go, sinking into you like a hand into a glove, a tight, all-encompassing fit. 

You whined, rolling your fingers over your clit faster, feverish, ready for relief, 

“Please make me come.”

“You will come…” He stretched you, giving you no warning, the sharp feeling of his invasion making you catch your breath, “When I bloody tell you to.”

Then, as if to prove it to you, he stuffed his length into your pussy, never pulling back very far, choosing instead to massage you with his cock, using his base to stretch you wide before rolling away. The sensation overwhelmed you, and his size made your mind go blank. Any words that formed in your mind turned to whining cries of pleasure on your tongue.

There were no sounds of lewd pounding of flesh on flesh. All of Price’s work was deep and wet, churning inside of you like a volcanic sea, hot and untamed. He, however, made plenty of noise, praising you in every way he knew how, speaking in half-clipped phrases, losing his sentence to a groan of relief as he fed himself to you, filling your pussy like a hungry mouth. 

You felt yourself getting closer by the moment. Each grinding thrust was pushing you ever nearer to that gleaming, crackling fuse. He had lifted you, unintentionally, unable to understand the effect of his strength, and your toes could barely scrape the floor. You could feel your sacral core clenching around him like a delicate vice, grabbing for his cock, trying to hold him within your belly, some twisting grip of nature used to ensure that his creamy come ended up where it belonged, soaking into your womb.

Your clenching made him pause, which, in turn, caused you to cry out to him, wordlessly babbling, begging for him to return, to keep his pace. 

“Don’t you dare, sweetheart. Don’t you dare come,” his voice was like rattling brimstone, smoky and burning within his throat. 

“Please…” You whispered, unable to lift your raspy, keening voice. 

With shallow, teasing thrusts, Price used his cockhead to softly pop in and out of your soaked hole, swollen from being well-fucked. Just hearing a vibrator would have sent you over the edge at that point, and you fought him, trying to get any sort of power at all, rolling your body like a caught snake. 

“Stop,” he said curtly, “Stop fighting. Be still.”

You quieted yourself down, breathing heavy, sweating into his sheets, shivering like you had a fever, burning up from the inside out. 

For the first time, you felt his hand leave your neck, and his fingers twisted themselves into your hair at the base of your skull. Slowly, carefully, he lifted you by your head, forcing your back into a vicious arch, letting your breasts hang freely, your arms trying to balance you, mostly worthless since Price had full control of your torso in this position. 

His free hand slid around your front, groping you wildly, plucking your nipples and filling his palms with the meat of your breast. Then, he replaced your fingers with his own, pressing beside your sensitive clit, rolling it softly in long, firm strokes. 

You heard yourself make a new sound, one you’d never made, an animal’s grunting, something reckless and feral. 

Then, Price took up his stretching rhythm again, fully in charge of everything you were sensing. To you, he may as well have been in control of your mind. It was no use to you; you were at his mercy and it was everything you’d ever wanted. 

“Do you trust me?”

Your thoughts swam, unable to even consider anything but the truth, and amongst all of your vocalized ecstasy, you managed to reply,

“Yes.”

“Don’t come. Keep it. Just like that.”

“J-John!”

“Wait, wait, wait… good girl. Good.”

“Ohhh, fuck…”

His next words seemed barely human, snarled at you through bared teeth,

“Now. Come for me. Come f— fuck! Holy fuck.”

When you felt him spill into you, you had almost no control left over your own orgasm. Your heart felt like it had leapt into your throat, and all you could experience was your shining, explosive finish. You heard no sound, and your eyes went white, rolling back into your head. You couldn’t breathe, or scream, and if it wasn’t for John’s immense body holding you tight, you would have crashed into his bed, all used up.

His orgasm was as long as yours was, and he finished in slow, fearsome thrusts, burying his head into you as deep as he could reach, smearing your lips with your mixed fluids, caring nothing for the mess. 

“C’mere, love. Come to me,” Price held you to his chest, finally pulling himself from you, holding you as close as he could, laying beside you in a sweaty, spent tangle of arms and legs. 

You lay your head on his chest, catching your breath, only to tumble into a dreamless sleep with him, your body exhausted from your effort. 

When you woke up the next day, you could feel him all over you. He had left you alone in the bed, and yet your skin and bones kept his imprints. You could feel the ghost of his fingertips on your neck, and you were sore in places you weren’t sure how you could be. Everything was a wet mess, and just when you worried about how you’d cross the apartment without yesterday’s outfit, you saw that John had left you a note. 

Training day on base. I'll be back tonight. Dinner on me. Wear this. xx

Under the note, Price had laid out his favorite dress of yours, a blue satin slip of a thing, and (with the tags still on) you found a matching lace set of bra and panties in the same pretty color, just your size. You couldn’t see the price, but when you searched for the brand online, you couldn’t help but blush. He'd spent more than just a pretty penny on this outfit. You couldn't help but notice that the delicate lace would show through the thin fabric of the dress, making little raised ridges where your nipples would be.

Whatever you’d just agreed to when you said you’d let John Price into your life was about to get very, very interesting. 

AO3 Link

[kitashousewife]

“m’gettin sick,” osamu sniffles from his cocoon on the couch. ever since he got home he’s been quiet and sleepy, cuddling up with a blanket despite being hot to the touch.

one thing you’ve learned about osamu, is that he is never sick. ma always joked about how despite every illness that passed through the twins’ schools, teams, or even work; osamu made it out perfectly healthy. you’ve found this to be true. even when you’ve been at your worst, osamu’s immune system has never faltered.

“i can’t be sick,” osamu’s mumbled voice is stuffier than normal, and his nose is a rosy pink. “i got work in the mornin’.”

“not like this, you don’t,” you pour some water from the kettle into his cup and dip the tea bag inside. he waves you off.

“what? just close shop for a day? i can’t do that,” he snatches a few kleenex from the box on the counter, turning around when you raise an eyebrow at him.

“you can actually, and you should.” you slide the tea over to him before heading towards your shared bathroom. “just post something tonight to give everyone a heads up.”

osamu shuffles behind you, tea in one large palm with tufts of kleenex in the other. he huffs when he feels hot once again, flinging off his sweat shirt as quick as he can.

“but kita-“

“kita can deliver to our house, baby. we can bring the rice over a different day.”

you fold your arms and stand by the bath as it fills. osamu copies you, leaning against the doorframe with a pout.

despite being sick as a dog, he won’t go down without a fight. out of principle, of course.

“what about the special i was gonna run?”

“you can do it next week,” you test the water with your palm before adding some epsom salt in.

“what will the regulars do when they head to the store?” osamu puts his palms up dramatically and snorts when you roll your eyes.

“im heading into town tomorrow, i can put a sign in the door. trust me ‘samu, i think they will appreciate you being closed. who wants to eat onigiri from someone with a runny nose?”

he doesn’t say anything. for a minute, you think he’s finally rested his case. after he slips in the bath and lets out a comfortable sigh, he decides to put one last ditch effort in.

“produce gets delivered tomorrow! i have to be there for that!” he’s comically large in the small tub the two of you share, knees folded up as he tries to sink in. you shake your head and he groans.

“fine, fine. okay. i’ll close tomorrow. ya happy?”

“thrilled,” you place a towel next to the tub and sit down. “you need to rest, samu. the shop will be there when you’re better, i promise.”

he pouts again, but this time it’s genuine.

“but i’m never sick,” he splashes water on accident when he leans his head back against the wall. “i take good care of myself! i take my vitamins, drink lots of water, get good sleep,”

your lips tug into a smile.

“and that will help you beat whatever you have even faster. but for now, let’s take it slow okay? get plenty of sleep, heal your body, and stay home.”

osamu nods, and let’s his eyes close. he soaks for a few minutes, relishing in the relief his achey joints feel for the first time all day. while he gets ready for bed, he can’t help but feel his heart swell as he watches you grab extra blankets for his side, knowing he will probably be chilly tonight.

“i’m probably gonna sore with all this shit in my nose,” he sinks under the covers, propping his head up on the extra pillows you set up for him.

“you snore anyway,”

“do not! ya liar,” he smacks your bum when you snuggle up next to him. “don’t touch me, i’ll get ya sick. i’m real contagious,”

you place a big kiss on his forehead before getting back to your original spot.

“i’ll take my chances,” you listed to osamu’s steady heart while he falls asleep. osamu is always taking care of you, grabbing your favorite things from the shop because he’s thinking of you. carrying you when your feet hurt from the heels he told you not to wear, bringing you glasses of water because he knows you aren’t drinking enough, and never asks for anything in return.

“i love ya,” osamu whispers, half asleep and hums when you squeeze him closer.

“i love you too, samu. sleep well.”

[toxicanonymity]

neighbor stuff

800 words, joel x f!reader, early night walks au

WARNINGS: I8+, reefer, joel POV (smutty thots & moves), OOC wardrobe.

join the manspreading olympics (this fic only implies it)

Joel didn’t follow you to the grocery store. He was there first, and he was just about to drive off when he saw you park your car. Now he sits on a bench and lights up a joint while you shop. He stretches his arm out and looks at the sky to exhale, then closes his eyes. How'd he get so lucky that a cool chick like you, with a fine ass like yours, was walking around his neighborhood? Just waiting to be swept off her feet and into his basement. . .

His mind wanders to a highlight reel of the moment before he kissed you, when he saw the last of the uncertainty leave your eyes, overtaken completely by yearning for him. And then, your first kiss. God damn, the way you melted into him. The heat between you as your bodies came together. The way you got on top, completely giving into what you wanted so bad.

Bad girl. So bad. So fucking hot.

Blood rushes to his loins. His smoking hand flexes with the muscle memory of your plush asscheek.

He looks down at the swell in his pants. Didn’t mean for this to happen, not here at least. He shoves his free hand into his pocket to adjust himself, just in time to see you walking toward him. Shit, he mutters to himself. You’re just as hot in the daylight.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, and he takes it in stride. You may sound disinterested, but once again, your body’s saying something else: you stopped at his bench when you could’ve kept walking.

“Buyin’ shaving cream and tangerines.”

“Right,” you deadpan, looking at his lack of grocery bags, which are in his car. Your eyes linger on his pants, you naughty girl.

“Take a seat, pumpkin.” He nods to the spot next to him and offers you the joint.

“I can’t,” you respond half-heartedly, but you keep standing there. . ..

He blatantly checks you out, letting his head tilt down then back up as his eyes rove your body. He wets his lips, pinches the joint out, then puts it behind his ear.

“Least lemme walk ya to your car.” Your eyes follow his hand when he adjusts himself as he stands up, then you abruptly look away.

He reaches for a grocery bag. You don’t hand it to him, but he slips a couple of his fingers into the plastic handle anyway, brushing your hand, then you let him take it. He passes the bag to his far hand as you begin to walk side by side, and he puts his closer hand on your back.

You don’t move away, but your jaw tenses.

“What do you want?” you ask as you reach your car and open it.

He gets closer. His hand slides slowly down your back and pauses just above your ass.

He leans in and his voice drops. “Want ya to come over again.”

You let him have the briefest little squeeze, then glance over your shoulder toward the store as you twist your hips away. "I'm sure you do," you say under your breath. You take the grocery bag from him and put it in the car, then look him in the eyes. Your face sure is pretty. And those eyes. They sure do want him.

He's admiring your lips when you ask, “What?”

He shrugs then shifts on his feet. “Can I get your number?”

You laugh silently with a small shake of your head.

“You're breakin’ my heart, pumpkin,” he laughs with you. "Hey, what if I gotta tell ya somethin'? Neighbor type stuff... Could be important."

Yeah, okay. You won't give it to him this time.

Your eyes linger on his chain, then he could swear your voice takes on the slightest sultry edge when you reply, “You know where I live.” He raises his eyebrows, and you add, “Creep.”

You turn toward your car to close the trunk/hatch.

“Yeah,” he agrees, moving back into your personal space, from behind. “I know where to find ya.”

His pulse quickens at the possibilities as his body is drawn even closer to yours. You don't move an inch as he gently presses himself against your ass, and his fingers rest lightly on your hip.

He inhales your scent, his lips brush your hair, and he murmurs, “That what I should do? .... Come ‘n’ find ya?”

You don't say no.

You take a deep breath, then slightly tilt your head, just enough that he can see the hunger in your gaze. Hell yeah, of course that's what you want.

God damn, he could do it right here. But not this time.

You swallow and mutter, “I've gotta go,” then step away from him.

That's okay. He'll find you.

“I can do that,” he promises, and you ignore it.

He puts his hands in his pockets and turns to walk away. Yeah, he’ll "find you" alright.

Hell yeah, that's even better. You're perfect, you know. God damn, you're hot.

---------

Ty for reading 🖤

[ctrlchar]

thinking about high sex with johnnie😮‍💨 i love your fics btw🙏

lit up

a/n:YESSSS it would be so intimate and shit,also i wrote this high so if it’s a little off yk why😭

you and johnnie were sitting outside at his and Jake’s shared house. his lighter lied flat on the table as he took a large hit from the joint he had just lit before passing it to you.

bringing it to your lips you take in a smaller breath before breathing out the smoke, johnnie exhaling by the time you inhaled

“have you ever shotgunned before” he asks as he takes a hit from the joint between his fingers.

you shook your head no at his question sure you had seen it be done but you hadn’t tried it yourself.

he nods as he breathes the smoke out before handing the roll between his fingers to you. he tells you to take a hit and then blow the smoke into his mouth,soon after you bring the joint to your lips.

you took a hit and did as Johnnie said,you slowly exhaled into his mouth your lips barely touching.once you had pulled apart he inhaled before exhaling once again.

the two of you repeated this several times,giggling at ‘how close your lips were yet so far away’

by now the there was about quarter left and you and johnnie were already pretty fucked up and therefore decided to ash it before putting it back in a swishers bag

“m’ hungry” you say to johnnie as you stumble through the patio door that lead to the kitchen.

he follows you into the kitchen wrapping his arms around your waist from behind you while you searched the kitchen for food.

it’s not until then you feel his hard cock poking against your back side making you turn around with a giggle.

with his hands on your waist you placed your around his neck before pulling him into a passionate kiss.

the kiss grew more intense as the effects of the weed had now fully kicked in. after a couple more moments he pulled away,his lips were slightly swollen and he had a dazed look in his eyes

you had been pressed against the counter as johnnie tapped the sides of your thighs signaling for you to sit up on the counter.

you sat atop the counter before pulling johnnie into yet another kiss,this one more sensual and needy.

his lips trailed from your mouth to your neck as he began to suck gently on your sweet spot,leaving a hickey as he then slid his hands up your shirt resting them on your waist

“can i take this off baby?” he asks looking up at you to which you nod. he slides the shirt over your head,your breasts now visible to him. He groped your tits before placing small kisses down them.

you moaned softly before you softly spoken “johnnie please” you whined “i need you”

your words were enough for him to quickly rid himself of his pants as you did the same. he pulled your panties to the side,sliding his cock between your folds. coating his cock with your slick.

you let out a moan as he slowly slid into you,one of your hands holding onto the counter while the other held onto johnnie’s hair.

“feels so good” he practically whimpers into your ear as he burries his head in the crook of your neck.

the weed coursing through your veins heightened every feeling. you almost felt like you were floating as your boyfriend continued to ram his cock in and out of you.

your body began to grow limp as you told Johnnie you were close,which he could tell judging by the way you clenched around him.

it was so sloppy and you loved every second of it,you couldn’t tell if you loved him so much or if you were just really really high but johnnie looked ethereal,his hair sticking to his forehead as he kept rutting his hips in and out of you, the kitchen light behind him shadowing some of his features

within seconds you came all over Johnnie’s cock a loud moan eliciting as he came deep inside you,his cum dripping out of you and onto the surface below.

he pulled out despite you still clenching around him,his hands at your puffy cunt as he let the cum pool on his fingers before sliding it back inside of you

he then begins to pepper kisses along your thighs until he gets into his knees, his chin resting in between your legs as he looks up at you with needy eyes practically begging for you to give him just one more orgasm