#and these two just exist together so beautifully | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strawberri-blonde · 10 months

Text

Spoiling the Prince - Neteyam

Photo credits to the talented @cinetrix

Summary: You treat Neteyam to a picnic and something else😏

Warning: Smuttt just Neteyam getting the blowjob he deserves.

Masterlist

Happiness filled every bit of your body as giggles escaped your heart-shaped lips while tugging an excited Neteyam along. Your four-fingered hand intertwined with the Olo’eyktan’s oldest son, and you pulled him eagerly along the forest floor. "Yawne, calm down." As Neteyam’s voice rang through your ears, you didn’t pay him much mind as you were looking for the landmark that you carved into a tree to guide the both of you towards the little surprise that you had set up just hours ago. "Where are we going?" This time, you stopped in your tracks once you saw the tree.

Turning around, you grabbed Neteyam's other hand with your own and pulled it up towards your lips, littering his palms with kisses. Of course, his once-blue cheeks turned a slight purple from your affection. "Nete…" You pulled his hands into your chest and looked up to his golden eyes with so much love that it had the boy purring. "I know how much your training takes up your time." Hearing those words, Neteyam's ears flattened, feeling guilty that the two of you haven't had that much time together. Seeing this expression, you let go of his hands to cup his face into your grasp. Standing on your tiptoes, you pressed your lips against his.

Neteyam couldn't resist pulling you closer to his strong, lean body. This week had been tough because his dad had been pushing him hard during training, especially since he's next in line to be clan leader. But right now, as Neteyam deepened the kiss by parting his lips and running his tongue across your bottom lip, it took everything in you to pull away. "I have something planned for us," you trailed off to caress his face one more time before dropping your hands to your waist, where his hands were drawing small, intimate circles. "I really set this all up for you." This made Neteyam's tail sway back and forth with curiosity.

The young man didn’t protest as you pulled him towards the tree that grew near a rock wall. “Just trust me.”

"Always Y/n," Neteyam said with a smile, which made you smile too, as you both climbed up the tree with ease. His movements were confident and fluid, as if he had climbed the tree before, even though you both knew he hadn't. As you reached the last thick branch, you held Neteyam's hand while you both walked down it, feeling the rough bark against the souls of your feet. The branch was secure against the flat top of the rocks, which had been smoothed over time by the elements. You both jumped onto the tall wall of rocks, which had molded together over the years, forming a natural barrier. As you walked across the moss-covered boulder, feeling the softness of the moss under your feet, you still held Neteyam's hand, feeling safe and secure with him by your side.

“It's this way," you said, approaching what looked like a bed of leaves, but it was actually a covering you'd woven together to hide the large opening of the rock. Neteyam barely saw the bottom of the hideaway from the darkness. "I wanted to keep it a secret," you said, holding onto the blanket and motioning for Neteyam to venture through the cave.

The young man gazed at his mate, and seeing the excitement on every part of your face, Neteyam didn't second-guess his trust for you. He carefully squeezed through the narrow opening and used the existing rocks that resembled steps to enter the dark cave. Leaf litter, along with broken twigs and moss, covered the cave's floor. Surprisingly, a sliver of light hit the rock walls, giving the boy a nice view of you covering the opening with the disguise you had crafted so beautifully. Noticing the wet leaves that he somehow managed to avoid while entering the cave, he sprang over to you, gripping your elbow to help guide you down. This, however, had you swooning. "Ma Neteyam, I've been here before." Both of your laughs echoed in the cave as the boy watched you carefully as you hopped down from the last step, pulling him closer to you.

“Obviously.” His mocking tone had you giggling before mimicking him back.

“Obviously.” Pressing your face into his warm chest, you both took an inhale of each others scents that meshed so well together; tree bark and grass.

Neteyam inhaled your wonderful scent before pressing kisses onto your hairline. “I can’t believe you found this place.” This cause another giggle to escape your lips.

"Oh, you don't think this is it, do you?" you ask, making the boy look down at you with confusion. You smile widely as you pull back but still hold onto his hands. You love holding Neteyam's hands. They are so strong but so gentle with you. "Where do you think the light is coming from?" This has Neteyam tilt his head, making a huge grin appear on his handsome face, exposing his teeth.

"Yawne-" you turn around, reaching your hand behind you, not bothering to look back, knowing that he'll grab onto you. As his soft but calloused hand grabs you just beyond your elbow, you reach the end of the cave and press a hand on the dewy surface. Neteyam's hand caresses your skin as it slides down to your hand, entangling your fingers together, making it so your palms are touching.

"Look," you say, gesturing upward towards the corner of the rocky wall where a faint light illuminates his handsome features. “It looks like it's a hole by the way the light shines..." You pull the boy to your side as you begin to walk sideways with your front still facing the back wall. "But really," you both reach the end, and you squeeze through a small opening from where the wall doesn't meet the existing rock. With his tall height, Neteyam ducks through the oval-shaped hole, letting you lead him through. "It's just trying to hide this treasure." Neteyam's eyes first hit yours before trailing along the grove. His golden eyes widen in awe, and his thin lips stretch out in a small gap, causing you to immediately fill up with pride.

“Ma Y/n,” as you step in front of the boy and tugged him towards the beautiful pond, that’s when his words began to stumble. “Where did you find this?” He laughed in disbelief as he saw a woven mat that clearly had to be made out of razor palm leaves; near the sandy bank. Nestled on top of the beautiful woven art piece was a lovely picnic, set up with a vibrant color scheme with delicious, fresh fruits. The blanket is covered in flower petals arranged in the shape of a heart, creating a beautiful and romantic atmosphere. The fruits are arranged in a colorful display, with juicy yovo fruit, ripe lionberry seeds, and sweet spartan. The colors of the fruits pop against the green mat, and the sweet aroma of the fruits and flowers fills the air. The set up was quite beautiful and only adds to the magic of the moment. “And what is this about. I didn’t forget anything did I?”

You toyed with his fingers that were still intertwined with yours. With a playful shake of your head, you spoke, "No, my prince, this is for you like I said earlier." Your doe eyes caused the boy to visibly melt. "I wanted to surprise you and let you know how much I love and appreciate you." Your soft, velvety voice made its way through Neteyam's ears, rendering him speechless. Without hesitation, he brought your hands to his chest while keeping a strong hold on them. He kissed you with all the passion he could muster up.

Your brain short-circuited as you felt his soft lips against your own. When his tongue poked at your entrance, you slowly opened your mouth and lightly bit down on the muscular organ that made its way into your warm, wet mouth. Neteyam's hands dropped down to your waist, squeezing them in need, while his rough fingers slipped along the thin fabric of your loincloth. "Teyam," you moaned out, frustrated with yourself as you pushed him away, not allowing him to ravish you where he stood. This was about him.

"Ma'Y/n." His tone was teasing, but the desperation could be heard clearly. You nudged your nose against his, pressing tender kisses on his face out of your own selflessness. He had the best face to kiss.

“Ma’teyam let me feed you.” Neteyam’s cock hardened at your innocent words being turned into the dirtiest thoughts.

"Yawne, let me have my meal." You grab onto his strong jaw in your hands as he leans down to press an open-mouthed kiss on your neck, right in that spot that makes you lose control. Feeling your loincloth get damp, you shook your head, pulling yourself together.

After you said, "Neteyam, I'm serious," he mumbled a 'me too' that had you giggling like a young Na'vi chasing after a beautiful-winged insect. You pulled him towards the woven mat and immediately sat down on the bright purple evanescence flowers that were soft to the touch. You helped guide him down by criss-crossing his legs. Then, you stood on your knees to shimmy closer to him before plopping down, basically leaning all over his body.

Neteyam wrapped his left arm around your waist as you pulled away from him for a moment to grab the end-grain wood cutting board that shows all the beautiful tree-rings. The wooden tray displayed the various fruits, making Neteyam's mouth water for more than one reason. "It's all your favorites, yawne." You picked up the cut-up piece of spartan fruit, letting its sweet sticky juices run down your fingertips. "I gathered them all for you, even this spartan fruit. It was hard to find-"

"Since it's been too hot and the fruits have been drying up before they even ripe," he cut you off, with pure happiness and joy shining through his amber eyes. You smiled proudly as you pressed the purple and blue fruit to his lips, allowing him to open his mouth and consume the sticky sweet fruit. As his teeth sank into the juicy spartan, the nectar dripped down his chin. The sweetness of the fruit was almost overwhelming, and the stickiness of the juice made Neteyam's desire for you grow. Since you both mated just over a year ago, spartan had been his favorite fruit. Each bite was a burst of flavor that left him yearning for the nectar that resided between your legs.

"I looked for hours," you mumbled as you licked away the juices from his chin, only to place another piece of fruit into his mouth. This time, he licked your fingers clean, making your heat throb and clench around nothing but need. "Only the best for my big, strong mate," you said, and the growl that rumbled in his chest caused goosebumps to scatter across your blue skin.

After Neteyam said, "Yawne, you can't say such words and not expect me to kiss you," he pulled you into a kiss. Your lips moved freely against one another, but you eventually pulled away after lifting up a lionberry seed to bring it to his mouth.

"Patience Teyam, we have all day, even into the evening," you said. This caused the Omitikaya warrior to lift an eyebrow, letting you continue to feed him. "Lo'ak is entertaining your father while Kiri is with your mother."

“Yeah but-” you pushed another lionberry seed into his mouth shutting him up.

Speaking with nothing of pride you admitted, "I even bribed Tuk." Neteyam's eyes widened, and he let out a laugh.

“Not my little sister.” You let out a chuckle yourself, watching as Neteyam grabbed another piece of spartan then reached for the yovo fruit.

"All it took was agreeing to a sleepover next week, and I have to make another wooden Ikran, specifically a purple and turquoise one," you said while setting the wooden circular tray on the mat to grab Neteyam's hand, licking off the juices finger by finger. "But it was worth it," you added, looking into his eyes. Neteyam groaned in response, and you giggled, feeling a rush of affection for him. You leaned in and gave him a quick peck on his velvet lips, "because my prince needs to be pampered and a little spoiled."

Neteyam was overcome with desire as your words filled the air like a fog. His heart pounded wildly, and he felt an animalistic instinct surge through him. He wanted you, and he could feel his body responding to his desire. Without hesitation, he pulled you into his lap, pressing his hard, toned body against yours. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he held you tightly as he kissed you passionately. Your breathing became heavy as you circled your hips to meet his greedy thrusts, and you felt his tongue explore your mouth. Gripping his shoulders for support, you felt a sense of pleasure as he pulled away from your lips to leave open-mouthed kisses on your neck.

As he placed soft kisses on your neck, you let out gentle moans, feeling the pleasure of his touch. You yearned for more, but the reality of the moment reminded you that you both couldn't continue here. You wished to take care of him as he takes care of you every day, despite his busy schedule training to become the next clan leader. To him, making you his wife was the easiest job on the planet, and you felt grateful for his love and devotion. “Teyam.”

As you pulled away from the passionate moment, you felt a deep connection between you and him. You slid your hands from his shoulders down to his chest, and let out a soft moan. You looked into his eyes and said, "Come on." Gently pushing his chest, you took his hands in yours and led him towards the blue waters of the hidden cove.

"You're killing me, yawne," Neteyam said with a smile as you guided him to sit on the large, smooth rocks covered in soft moss that you had put in place to provide a worthy throne for the next in line.

"Who would have known that the mighty warrior is such an impatient child?" you asked. Neteyam's face heated up at your words, and his ears flattened against his head as he continued to settle into the soft, lime-green moss.

"Only for you, my mate," Neteyam whispered sweetly. His words made your heart soar, and your body throbbed with need. You pushed him back gently, as his legs were sprawled out with the water barely reaching halfway up his thick thighs. Without hesitation, you kissed his entire right thigh, loving the sound of his low grunts. "Thata girl," Neteyam said, using an English phrase that he must have learned from his father. Strangely enough, he never let it escape his lips until it was something intimate like this, and you loved it. If you weren't already a slave to his manly charms, you would have fallen under his spell like a woman in heat.

You pulled away from his legs and cupped his handsome face in your hands, giving his mouth sensual, open-mouthed kisses. "I'm gonna be your good girl," you whispered, the desperation and rawness of your voice making Neteyam's cock throb with desire. Kissing him again, you nibbled on his bottom lip and pushed into his chest, gliding down his body until your bottom half was covered in the warm water. "I'm going to be the prince's good girl, his most loyal servant," you said, your voice full of promise.

Neteyam's gaze was so intense that it felt like a bolt of electricity, sending shivers down your spine and making every nerve in your body tingle with desire. You were already on your knees for him, but his lustful look had you feeling like you could collapse at any moment. The intensity of his desire and need was almost overwhelming, and your body couldn't help but react with a surge of pleasure. The warmth of his gaze spread like a wildfire. You could feel your once blue skin turning a soft lavender hue. As your breathing became heavy and mind clouded with his fog, you felt myself melting into his embrace, completely consumed by his passion.

"I thank the Great Mother for you every morning," Neteyam rasped, his voice pulling you out of the fog of desire, but only for a moment. Gripping his thighs, you offered your mate a sweet smile before kissing, licking, and even sucking onto his skin that rested on his lower abdomen. You went so low that your chin was becoming irritated from the material of his loincloth. "Every evening," Neteyam moaned as his hips thrust forward, trying to find some kind of release, but you just kept going. "Every waking moment, my love," he continued, his confessions filling your heart with emotion.

"Teyam," you moaned against his warm skin, pulling away to capture his lips in yours once more. "Help me untie you." Without question, Neteyam leaned forward to begin untying his loincloth. As he did so, the pond's water began to form ripples which then softly turned to little waves that only managed to make the both of you wetter. Neteyam almost had his cock on display, but before he could reveal it to you, you pushed him back with one last kiss to the lips. As you returned to eye level with his crotch, Neteyam snuck in a sensual forehead kiss. "You're such a strong, loving mate who provides," you whispered, and the truth was that the boy felt like he could just cum from your words alone. You made sure to take your time as you kissed the junction of his legs that met his groin, trailing your act of love towards his abdomen. Meanwhile, your right hand couldn't help but stroke his covered member ever so slowly. "I just want to thank you," you said, lifting the material slightly and offering Neteyam your innocent doe-eyes. "Can I do that, Teyam? Can I make you feel good like you make me feel everyday?"

"Fuck," the Omatikaya warrior fell apart just like that. "You really are some angel, aren't you?" You didn't respond; you just pressed an open-mouthed kiss along his clothed cock. "Y/n, please," he begged. You squeezed his massive cock in your hands, pressing the still-covered tip to your lips. "Please, Y/n, touch me."

"That's my prince," you whispered, finally pulling away the soaked garnet that somehow managed to hide his massive size. "Soo big," you moaned, throwing the material on the dry side of the bank, then collecting his cock in your hands, making them look small. "I’m so lucky," you kissed the tip, wanting to have his taste in your mouth. However, this made the man jerk his hips from the sensation sending water droplets splashing your face. "Don't worry, Teyam." Twisting your hands in opposite directions around his pulsing member you pulled away to hold him in your right hand, then applied open-mouthed kisses along the whole length. "I promised, I'd take care of you."

You licked a straight line up from the base of his balls to the tip, making sure to give it the attention it so desperately needed. “Fuck.” You pulled back with a pop, only to go right back to work licking up and down his cock loving the taste of his pre-cum. Your hands scratched down his thighs while you took him in your mouth fully. Neteyam’s breathing became louder and more passionate making you want to hear more. So, you cupped his balls in your left hand, giving them a good squeeze, then jerked his cock in a steady motion. You opened your mouth, tapping his purple tip on your tongue a few times before taking him as far as you could until his thick cock touched the back of your throat. “Yawne, you’re so good at this.” You let out a hum, sending vibrations along his member, making Neteyam drop his head back, letting out low and throaty moans. “Great Mother.”

Humming again you pulled away with a load gasp but quickly covered it up with your words. “Praying for me Teyam?” You continued to jerk him off then leaned down to lick his balls. “Praying for this tight pussy.” Neteyam couldn’t help but reach forward to grabbed onto your braids, bring your face more towards him. You opened your mouth wider, swallowing around the soft but hard round skin.

You fumbled them only for a brief minute before licking up his shafted again to take his tip in your mouth sucking on it hard. ‘Oh yeahs,’ left his swollen lips as you took him as far as you could. “Thata girl.” Hearing those words, you stayed put swallowing around him, to only pull away in a gagging fit. Giving yourself a brief moment to recover you gave his cock long and hard tugs. You loved how wet his cock was from your salvia although some might say the pond water also played a big part in that factor.

Returning to work, you began to kitten lip his tip, then started to bob your head up and down his member. You felt the tightness of his grip in your hair and the way his legs were struggling to stay still, which would always have you thinking of this moment when you hear any kind of water splashing. He was enjoying himself, and if your bottom half wasn't in a pool of water, you're sure that your loincloth would've been soaked with your own juices. With hollow lips, you could taste his precum on your tongue, which sent your pussy clenching around nothing. "It tastes oh so good," you mumbled, taking him deep in your mouth again, making the Prince thrust into you a few times, then held you in place, letting you pull back with a gasp. "Fuck my throat so good, yawne."

“Do I?” This had Neteyam hold you down with both hands gripping your head as his eyes roll back at the feeling of you chocking on his dick. “Fuck, yawne you’re gonna make me cum.” Breathing through your nose, you could feel tears swell in your eyes but you didn’t care.

You pulled back with a choked moan and wrapped both hands around his throbbing member, twisting them nice and firm. "Give it to me," you said in a sultry tone, which made Neteyam tighten his fist and let out loud grunts that sounded like music to your ears. "I need your cum, Neteyam. It's so good." You kissed the tip of his cock one last time before taking him into your mouth, loving the way he bruised the back of your throat.

"That's right, baby," Neteyam moaned, feeling nothing but pure ecstasy as he was surrounded by the water of the pond. He could feel the tightness of your throat and the way your hands felt on the rest of his shaft and balls. "Don't stop," he panted out, feeling you moan around him, encouraging him to continue. "Right," he moaned, feeling the familiar tightness in his abdomen. "There." The strained, raw tone in his face had you still your movements, letting the blue man fuck in your mouth. And with just a few more thrusts, Neteyam had his goodness shooting down your throat, the passion of the moment almost too much to bear.

You didn't move a muscle until you knew your mate was done riding out his high. You popped off him with a satisfying moan, opening your mouth for your prince to show him the mess he made. "So good, Teyam," you said, jerking his sensitive cock, making him squirm. "Tastes like my favorite treat. Puffball tree leaves, salty," you licked him clean, making the boy caress the side of your cheek. "But sweet."

"Give me a taste." Without waiting for your response, Neteyam wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you up out of the water until you were sitting on his lap, then he pulled you into a deep kiss. A cold breeze danced its way across your warm bodies, making the atmosphere humid. Through the tense and hot air, the boy let his hands roam your body, while yours remained on his jawline, closer to his neck. Neteyam slipped his tongue into your warm mouth, exploring the taste of himself on your tongue. Moaning at the taste, you felt vibrations shiver down your spine. "It's not as good as you," you moaned as his confession causing you to slowly starting to grind on his semi-hard cock. "Let me show you." Feeling him pull away to kiss down your neck, you almost let yourself be swept away in him, but you weren't done with your surprises. This was about him.

“Nete,” you let out a high pitch moan as he moved your decorative chest pieces out the way to suck on your tit. Why was he making this so hard?

“That feel good, yawne?” Your mouth opened wider not even being able to breathe properly.

"Wait, Neteyam," you moaned, slipping your fingers into the back of his head, pulling him slightly to signal him to look up. "I'm not done."

He smirked up at you. "Yeah, me neither." Then, his hot mouth moved over to the other nipple, making you squirm in his lap.

"But this is about you. I wanted to spear a fish to cook for you, to feed you, my prince." The man's desire was clear as he bit down on your mound, sucking firmly, then pulled off to press it an open-mouthed kiss. He felt lucky to have someone like you, who only wanted to take care of him, but he was hungry for something else.

"Y/n, you know what would make your prince happy?" Your breathing became irregular as Neteyam lifted you up with ease, then set you gently down onto the soft moss. He kissed down your neck, kissing your nipples again before continuing. "You not denying me for the second time on devouring my favorite meal." And who were you to deny the future Olo'eyktan of the Omaticaya clan?

Hoped you guys liked it!

~ Caroline

#neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x you #neteyam imagine #neteyam #na’vi avatar #na’vi smut #neteyam smut #na’vi avatar imagine #na

1K notes · View notes

prettyboyeddiemunson · 2 years

Text

when i think about you, i touch myself

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you & eddie have been friends forever. when he arrives early to your house one day to hang out, he encounters something unexpected. part 1 of 2.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: smut, obviously. basically reader touches herself and eddie watches, unbeknownst to her.

a/n: i don’t know if anything like this has been done yet, so i’m sorry if it has! i have no time to read or see every single fic out there. if you want added to the taglist, let me know! also, this should go without saying, but minors DNI.

_________________________________

Hanging out with y/n had always been a major highlight for Eddie. The two had been friends since her arrival in Hawkins during Eddie’s second senior year, when she herself had entered her first & only senior cycle. She chose to remain in Hawkins after she graduated, a fact that left Eddie completely baffled. She was smart, she was driven, she could grab the world by the ass if she wanted, so why stay in a shitty town like Hawkins? In any case, though, Eddie was glad that she was still there; it gave him something to look forward to, aside from Hellfire Club and shows with his band.

Weekends belonged mostly to them, unless they had other obligations. She also never missed one of his Tuesday shows, and they always hung out together afterward. They would go to one of their homes–usually hers–where they listened to music, smoked weed, drank beer, and just enjoyed each other’s company. Not only did they have fun every time they were together, but they were each other’s rock. Eddie didn’t have a best friend–hell, he barely had a handful of real friends–but y/n was as close as it got for him. When something good happened, she was the first he went to so they could celebrate together. When he needed to vent, or was angry, or frustrated, she was the first he came to so that she could calm him down; it was something she was damn good at doing. They knew everything about each other–or at least, almost everything. Eddie had a secret, one that he would never dare speak aloud.

He was in love with her.

He could even pinpoint the exact moment it happened. It was close to the end of the 1984-85 school year, and that particular day had been terribly rainy. Neither of them had an umbrella or raincoat, and by the time Eddie had driven them to her place, it was coming down like a damn waterfall. Both had become soaked in the short distance from Eddie’s van to her front door, and they had to change into drier clothes right away. She’d put on a long shirt with shorts beneath, and she gave him some oversized clothes that she believed would fit until his own were dry. Once they were toweled off and changed, they sat on the couch to watch a movie before her parents got home. Eddie didn’t even know what the film was, nor could he tell anyone if he tried to remember. y/n had taken to lying against him, cuddling close as he held her in turn. The warmth of her body, the sound of her laughter at the film, feeling her just existing against him as her focus remained on the television…it had been the most beautifully simple thing in the world. It had opened an absolute Pandora’s box of emotions for him, and he fell fucking hard for her.

He could never tell her, though. He knew that someone as beautiful as y/n would never love him in return, nor would she ever want to. How could she, when she was a goddess and he was Eddie Munson? He was a freak, an outcast who drank too much, did too many drugs and dealt even more, was a high school senior at the age of twenty, and played D&D with a group of teenagers. Not only that, but she was always dating someone–in school and out–or gushed over this person or that person, so the feelings were likely unreciprocated. Eddie felt as if he deserved an award for not losing his shit and revealing his true feelings in the process, every damn time someone new entered her picture.

But, little did he know, things would soon change with the most unexpected turn of events.

***

One day, when Eddie and y/n were set to hang out, Eddie was supposed to practice with his band first. To his equal delight and dismay, however, the session was moved to the following day, due to another obligation of a bandmate. So, instead of waiting several hours to go see y/n, he decided to go over a little early and surprise her. He had a pack of beer and a bag of weed with their names written all over it, and was ready to unwind with her. Metallica blasted from the van’s speakers, jazzing him up as he drummed on the steering wheel and sang along. He was having a blast, and by the time he reached y/n’s, he was bursting at the seams with excitement. He wanted to get stoned off his ass, kick his feet up with a beer, and find ways to make her laugh. To him, her laughter was the best music, and he was so happy that he could bring it out of her the way he did.

Eddie pulled in behind her vehicle, killing the engine and getting out with his goods. He discovered that the front door was locked, and found the key in the hiding spot she’d once shown him. He let himself in, looking around at the empty place upon entering. It was eerily quiet, which was confusing to him. She had to be home; her vehicle was parked outside, but it appeared as if no one were there. Worry soon stole over him, and he hastily placed the beer & weed on the nearest surface before frantically searching for her. He was paranoid that something could be terribly wrong, and he knew that he would never relax until he was certain that she was alright.

He found out where she was soon enough. As he was turning a corner to walk into another room, he heard moaning coming from upstairs. It wasn’t a painful, distressed sound; it was pleasurable, and loud enough that he heard it downstairs. Eddie stopped in his tracks, listening closely to see if he’d been correct. It was silent for what seemed like forever, and Eddie began to doubt what he heard. But then it came again, a little louder than before, and he knew that he was right in the first place. He assumed that the sound was coming from her bedroom, and Eddie couldn’t help but feel jealous at the thought of her with someone else. She wasn’t even his girlfriend, but goddammit, he was desperately in love with the girl. How much longer could he endure seeing her with other people, before it finally broke him or drove him to confess his feelings? The universe was always playing some kind of sick joke on him, but dangling y/n in front of him & then yanking her away had to be the cruelest, by far.

Eddie listened again, inching up the stairs to get closer to her room. He heard no other voices, and no sounds that indicated she was having sex with someone. He was perplexed, but kept moving, being careful not to make any noise that would alert her. He wanted to see what was going on, and whether she was with someone else or not; he wouldn’t be able to let it go until he knew. He was aware that, while his curiosity would eat him alive if he didn’t investigate, he may not like the answer that he received. He needed it, anyway, and mentally prepared himself for what he could potentially find.

Eddie followed the sounds of her moans to her bedroom door, already feeling like a creep. Her door was open a sizable crack, and he could see through it well enough without having to open it any further and possibly giving himself away. He was relieved to see no one else in the room with her, but y/n was still moaning as she lay upon her bed. A thin blanket covered her lower half, one arm thrown above her head as the other was hidden by the covering. It clicked for Eddie what was going on, and he swallowed thickly as he watched her hand moving under the blanket. She had a shirt on, but no bra, because he could see her nipples clearly poking through the fabric as they hardened.

While Eddie was completely stunned by the sight, he knew that it was wrong to stay. To do so would not only be such a perverted move, but it would be a complete invasion of her privacy. He reluctantly forced himself to look away, feeling flustered as he turned to leave. He would just have to come back later, at the original time he was supposed to; a few hours wasn’t too bad to wait. But damn, did he really want to stay and watch her, no matter where the hands on his morality compass sat. He had an obligation as a good friend and a decent human being to leave her to her own devices, but seeing her like that? The very girl that he’d thought about in the same way, many times, was touching herself right in front of him; to say that he was torn was a serious understatement.

Eddie cursed under his breath, and took two steps toward the stairs. That was as far as he got, because he’d frozen dead in his tracks by what he heard next. His big brown eyes only widened, and if he’d still had hold of the stuff he brought with him, it would have dropped to the floor. The same sound came again, and Eddie swivelled on the spot to assure that it wasn’t wishful thinking. But no; it had been clear as day that second time, and then it came a third.

“Eddie!”

His name, coming in the form of a hot moan from inside of her bedroom. The first time, he’d wondered if she had seen him before he had walked away and was simply calling for him. He was in utter disbelief that she would be fantasizing over him to begin with, because why on Earth would she? Eddie did ponder the notion that it could be another Eddie, but did she even know anyone else with that name? His mind turned over every conceivable reason, but y/n did not stop saying the name. Eddie forced himself to walk back to her door, peeking in to see what she was doing. What he saw caused his breath to catch in his throat, and his gaze was immediately glued only to her.

The blanket was down a little further, barely covering y/n’s lower half. Her fingers were working faster, and Eddie could tell from the placement of her hand that she was most likely rubbing her clit with her middle finger. The arm that was previously above her head was now grabbing at her throat, rubbing her neck before dipping inside of her shirt to grab her breast. Her back arched and her eyes squeezed shut, and she cried out as she began pulling on her nipple. The hand below the blanket slid down further as she toyed with her breast, and she gasped loudly at the sensation. A filthy string of moans escaped her, and Eddie could only assume that she was fingering herself at this point due to her new hand placement.

Eddie could feel blood rushing to his cock, and he stood rooted in place as he continued to watch. He felt like some sort of disgusting creep, and he didn’t know how he could look her in the eye ever again. At the moment, however, the most rational part of his brain had gone out the window. His jeans were growing tighter by the second due to everything she was doing to herself in there, and his mind was now clouded with lustful judgment. Every stroke of her fingers, every pinch of her nipple, every sound she made, it was driving him absolutely wild. He didn’t think he could ever be more attracted to her, but this whole situation was proving him completely wrong.

“Eddie,” she breathed, her eyes still closed as she massaged her breast. Eddie could see her rolling the hardened bud of her nipple between her fingers, and her head snapped back as she fucked herself even deeper and more rapidly. Her breath quickened, and a lazy smile formed on her lips as she mewled. “Eddie, fuck…”

y/n’s hand shifted to the opposite breast, and he noticed the hitch of her breath when she made contact. Her legs were shaking under the blanket, and her back lifted slightly from the mattress once more. Her hand moved upward after a few minutes, rubbing quick circles on her clit as she began to grow louder & more desperate in volume. It was the hottest fucking thing that Eddie had ever seen, and he felt so dirty for even thinking it. He wasn’t even supposed to be here, and yet there he stood, spying on his best friend while she had a personal moment. It felt like such a violation, but his goddamn never-ending curiosity had forced him to remain there. Not only did he want to watch her masturbate to him, but he had a nagging desire to know what she was thinking. What had gotten her so worked up in the first place? What was she fantasizing about at the moment that had turned her on so much, that she had to get herself off to it? The line he was walking with the whole circumstances was a fine, risky one, but the painful erection he had was demanding he stay until she finished. After that, maybe he could–

No. No, he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t make himself known and tell her that he’d heard everything. Jesus jumping Christ, what was wrong with him? If he wanted to potentially damage the friendship beyond repair, then of course he could go in there and reveal what he’d done. While the only remaining shred of sense he had was telling him that it was a stupid idea, the horny part of him needed it to happen the other way. Fuck, he wanted her so badly that he ached, and if she rejected him or never spoke to him again, then he would absolutely deserve it. But she was moaning his name; something told him that, while she may be surprised, she would most likely welcome him. Either way, he was prepared, and with a shaky sigh, he turned his full attention back to her.

“Mmm,” she hummed, her mewls turning more heated as her breathing grew heavier. Her hands worked fast, the quickest that Eddie had seen them so far. “Shit, you feel so fucking good.”

Eddie was unable to stop the grin that formed on his face. He could tell that she was close, and sure enough, it didn’t take her long to cum. The sounds she made as she reached her orgasm were like music to Eddie’s ears, and his cock throbbed in his pants because of it. His name fell repeatedly from her lips, her face twisted in ecstasy as she arched her back, her legs pushing the thin covering further down to expose her mound. Eddie bit the corner of his lip, unzipping his fly to alleviate some of the pressure on his erection. He watched as she came down from her high, blissed out with sweat shining on her skin, her nipples still erect beneath her shirt. Her hands came into view from where they’d been, and Eddie could see the fingers that she’d used on her pussy were glistening. Eddie knew, right then and there, that he was beyond fucked. How could he not go in there, after seeing that? He was ready for anything–rejection, acceptance, anger, surprise, whatever may come. If he didn’t work up the nerve now, after everything that he’d just seen, then he never would. He knew himself well enough to know that much.

Taking a deep breath and shelving his nerves, Eddie gave y/n a few minutes to regain herself, and then stepped inside of her room.

________________________

itty bitty taglist: @littledemondani @korescomaactuallyaactually @rriverrgrace @dumpsterfireoflove

#im nervous about this one OOP #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine

8K notes · View notes

elsweetheart · 1 year

Text

jealous girl — basketball!abby anderson au

synopsis: when the other girls on your cheer squad relentlessly show interest in your girlfriend, the captain of the basketball team — you feel the undying urge to claim her as yours and yours only.

♪ jealous girl — lana del rey (unreleased) ♪

cw: reader is a cheerleader / athletic, girl drama, alcohol, reader gets very possessive, jealousy and insecurity for no reason tbh, angst??? reader cries a bunch what’s new, smut, use of strap on, housewife kink, dom top abby, sub bottom reader, a little bit of overstim if you squint? fem reader, lmk if i missed anything!

an: omg hi! i’m so nervous to post this omg. i hope you like the route i took this down! reader can be kind of annoying but stick with it. minors you are not welcome here so don’t interact and ageless blogs you will be blocked. also please don’t ask for a part two! there will not be one! anyways hope you enjoy it bbs ! likes and reblogs welcome ♡

Winner. Scholar. First place.

And that was just the first shelf of Abby’s trophy cabinet. She’d been given the premier student accommodation. You know, the apartments they reserve for their most promising students. Sleek grey cabinets and polished floors, a kitchen to die for — it was no wonder you were barely ever at your own shitty little dorm. Every tri coloured ribbon that hung proudly beside her winnings wore a gleaming gold pendant on the end — just another display of her success. Walking around her sleek scholar apartment was so familiar to you that the glimmering display cabinet barely caught your eye anymore, but each time it did it welcomed a blossom of pride in your chest for your girlfriend, Abby Anderson.

Abby — casual rugby player, frequent at the boxing society, known for wooing her professors into raising her grades by showing up with her own engraved golf club to their country club and wowing them with her swing. But she was known for one thing and one thing only around campus, and that was being the captain of the basketball team.

She was ruthless, six feet and two inches of pure muscle and willpower on the court. The blonde braid, her trademark, swishing against her toned back — and if you’re seeing it, it’s because she’s already passed you with the ball that you had just bounced. You were no stranger to the sound of the orange ball thudding against laminate floors, and the squeaking of sneakers. Infact, it’s what brought the two of you together. No, you were not on the basketball team. You, were a cheerleader.

Not the captain, although that would have been beautifully cliche; the basketball ball team captain dating the captain of the cheerleading squad — take a shot every time you read the word captain, no seriously, quickest way to get wasted. You were happy that way, however. When you weren’t dancing, you were shy by nature. The change in your demeanour was a shock to the system every time — countless frat douches and friendly party goers stepping away wide eyed when they’d approach you, hoping for cheerleader charm and instead being met with a flustered squeak. It took a while for Abby to get through to you infact, as you can imagine — being a campus celebrity and all — approaching the shy girl was a mission she was willing to try again and again at, warming you up until you were eating right out of her big coarse palm.

The memory of your first meeting was still something that made her chuckle. She’d been crushing on you for a while before even saying a word — stealing heated glances at you whilst you were dancing or being tossed in the air — whilst you of course were convinced you had hallucinated The Abby Anderson acknowledging your existence. She was tired of stiffening up at your demure glances and flustered smiles directed at her, so all but marched over to you after winning a huge game. Pumped full of adrenaline, chest heaving as she chased her breath — you in her laser vision. You noticed the hair stuck to her forehead before she even spoke, the shape of an S.

“Hi—”

“I’m Abby.” She breathed out, like a total loser — she’d add.

“I… I know. I’m—”

“I know. Let me take you out. Please?” Don’t beg, Abby. “I asked your roommate if you liked girls.” You did not have to tell her that, jheez. Creep much?

“Oh…?” You couldn’t seem to close your mouth, trying to process what was happening and happening fast. For a moment you questioned whether you’d taken a tumble on that last cartwheel, currently blacked out on the floor in a concussion-hazed dream. Ooh, maybe Abby is carrying you to the infirmary.

“You can say no.” She rambled. She looked nervous for a moment and when you started to smile, so did she. “But… don’t.”

So you didn’t.

Abby was a dream. After you’d said yes, her confidence was slammed back into her and she was busying herself with planning ways to make you hers. She was confident and naturally dominant (Opening regular doors for you, opening car doors for you, hand on your lower back when you walked together…) without being arrogant. Humble, whilst holding herself with a presence that commanded nothing short of respect. She’d taken you for milkshakes for your first date, and you’d clicked instantly. Abby did everything right, which made your face hot and stomach clench up in nerves at the idea of doing something wrong infront of her. But that feeling melted away, the only two people in the small but admirable diner — Abby carrying the conversation for long enough until your shyness melted away, catching yourself in giggle fuelled rambles and debates.

You’d kissed her on the cheek at the end of the first date. So innocent, so sweet — she remembers thinking. She let you have that, didn’t try and go in for a kiss on the lips, stood outside your building. She was happy with her decision when you pulled back and just looked so fucking proud of yourself for taking such a leap. You exchanged some kind words, some gratitude with the small and humble bouquet Abby had showed up at your door with tucked under your arm — before you were flouncing away in your little sundress. Abby touched her hot cheek when she walked away, smiling ear to ear. Her fingertips grazed over a slightly sticky outline, and she picked up her pace to get home so that she could look in the mirror and catch the sight of your lipstick print on her face.

Current day, and you’re puffing out your cheeks — stepping into the sweaty auditorium. The humidity is a little stifling and you frown in disapproval, wondering when they’re going to be getting the fans fixed like they said they would. This time, tucked beneath your arm is Abby’s white water bottle, college logo printed along the side, that she’d left in your dorm when she’d dropped by the night before. Your eyes searched the room to spot her, and it didn’t take long as she pretty much towered over everyone — you stopped for a moment at the edge of the sports floor, chest inflamed by the sight of your squad members surrounding her, giggling.

You hate to say it, but whatever stereotype or rumour you’d heard about cheerleaders is true. Especially at your college, there was something so criminally But, I’m a Cheerleader (1999) about your squad in particular. You didn’t like to get involved in the drama, but sapphic drama was not unfamiliar to you. It was bizarre, everyone was friends — but their sporty girlfriends from outside of the team were getting passed around like peas. Abby had always been an object of their affection, but before you had started dating her she seemed out of reach — due to the fact the blonde quite literally never even glanced their way, too focused on the game, and whispers of ‘Abby doesn’t date sports team girls’ around campus. Since the two of you had been together, what — 10 months now? It seems to have refilled their confidence in being able to win her over, regardless of how you felt about it.

It was never direct. To anyone else, the group of you seemed like great friends — and you were the number one flyer, needing you as the centre piece for every dance. You were happy to get chucked in the air so long as they caught you, so as you can imagine; that element mixed with your shyness forced you into not confronting them all for flirting with Abby.

"No but if I had arms like this? Whew, no one would be safe. I'd be a slut... I mean I already am..." The cheer captain, Liv spoke, the other dancers squealing in agreement. Abby looked uncomfortable to say the least, forcing a polite smile and trying to wedge herself out the small hyena circle they had formed around her. A blossom of pride filled your chest when you saw the sheer relief in her eyes, her gaze landing on you. You surged forward into the light, smiling awkwardly at your peers as you approached your girlfriend. She bounced the orange ball on the ground once before tucking it under her arm, other bulging arm bringing you in for a quick hug. "Hi, baby." She chirped, happy to see you.

You wanted to enjoy the moment, but couldn't ignore the disapproving gazes from behind Abby's back, their faux-friendly smiles turning to not so subtle glances and snickers toward each other. Just ignore them. Abby didn't pay them any mind so why should you?

"Hi Abs." You lowered your voice, like you were hoping they'd get the hint and give you two privacy. They stuck around like flies, much to your disappointment. "You left your bottle at my dorm. Didn't want you to get dehydrated agai—"

"Awwww, you guys are so cute!" The bleach blonde base leader appeared beside your girlfriend, obnoxiously butting in and making a point to rest her hand on Abby's bicep. "I want what you have." She pout, but you couldn't help but feel that comment was directed more toward you.

"Oh—thanks." You chuckle, not quite meeting her eye. Abby took the bottle from you, shooting you a subtle ‘wtf?’ look which made you wanna giggle.

"Oh you refilled it, nice. Was so fuckin' thirsty." She smoothed a hand over your head gratefully as she brought the bottle to her lips and chugged, stepping away to address her team, their practice ending for the day, giving the cheerleaders the space to rehearse for tomorrow. "Alright team, circle up I got a few pointers." You heard her command, smiling as you watched her team members gather around her obediently. You snapped your eyes away toward the girl still stood by you, eyes slightly narrowed as she observed you. She looked away when you noticed her intense gaze.

As much as you hated to see Abby leave without you, it always brought you some kind of relief — knowing that your squad could actually focus on what you were there for, cheerleading — instead of fawning over your girlfriend, giggling, bending over in her direction to 'tie their laces'. You knew dating Abby would bring a lot of attention, and you knew that there must have been plenty of girls that were after her — but this whole thing with your own squad was getting pretty old. Sometimes you wished you weren't so shy, so you could give them a real stern talking to. You didn't wanna put it all on Abby, it wasn't fair, she didn't ask for this and plus it was your problem. You didn't wanna be that jealous and possessive girlfriend, did you?

The next day, Friday rolled around fast.

It took a lot to shake Abby’s confidence. She knew she was good at what she did, otherwise she wouldn’t be on such a prestigious scholarship, or have acquired the team captain title so fast — but she was nervous. The impending game was a big one, there was no room for fuck up’s. There had been talk of scouters for top women’s basketball leagues joining the audience, and Abby knew that if things went well it could really put her on the map, no — it was guaranteed.

Your eyes were fluttering closed, heavy after the long day you’d had perfecting your routine with the team. You were in your shabby little dorm, practically a hole in comparison to Abby’s sleek apartment. More times than not you’d stay with your girlfriend, calm eachothers nerves before a big game — but you had mutually decided that you’d both needed to ensure a perfect night’s sleep. Your phone laid beside your head on your pillow, the glow of Abby’s contact picture lighting up the small space around it. She was breathing slow and calm on the other line, clearly tired herself.

“And then you can come and stay at mine tomorrow after the game, and stuff.” She hummed, the sound of her shifting positions, her bedsheets rustling taking over the audio for just a moment.

“Mhm. ‘Can celebrate your win.” You smile, eyes now closed as you picture it all, nervous butterflies batting their wings against your stomach.

“Or mourn my loss.” She chides. “You can still come over either way.” Abby chuckles but it’s dry and humourless. She always got this way before a game, just a little pessimistic — doubting herself subtly through sly jokes and quiet comments. To anyone else, she’d still appear just as confident and carefree — but you knew Abby.

“Abs, don’t say that. Y’gonna win. Simple as.” You exhale, feeling your body sink further and further into the pillow. She was silent for a moment, considering it — probably doubting everything that had just come out your mouth, this time in her head.

“Hm.” You listened to her breathing, and it made you sleepier. “You’re tired baby. Let’s go to bed, yeah?” You wanted to protest, be there for her and soothe her nerves for a little longer until she felt ready to sleep but her voice was lulling you into a dozed state.

“You sure? I can… stay…” You could barely finish your sentence, making her chuckle tiredly.

“Yes, pretty girl. Gotta get your rest for tomorrow. Need you cheering me on up there, helps me play better.” She was smiling, you could hear it. Your heart swelled and you made a happy humming sound to after.

“Night Abby, seeyoutomorrowloveyou.” You sigh out in one breath.

“Night baby. Get some rest. I love you.”

The opening intro to Fergie’s — Fergalicious blared through the auditorium, your squad occupying half the court as you danced for the screaming crowd. Hips, hips, split jump, cartwheel — behind your bright smile you were counting steps, keeping your arms tight and straight, flickering your eyes towards the scoreboard. You looked properly as you stood on top of the pyramid, ankle by your head — burst of adrenaline and relief when your eyes landed on the numbers in glowing red, signifying that Abby’s team was still in the lead. You gracefully flipped, and were caught back on the ground, heart thundering in your chest as you continued on with the dance.

As rehearsed, the college mascot had run on, joining in on the dance. A ridiculous looking wolf with a brightly coloured t-shirt and cap on its furry head. He danced beside you, comedically shaking it’s hips in time with you. You glanced over at Abby, happy to see her looking eased, a slight smile on her face as she jogged away from the net, watching you dance. A few strands of her hair stuck to her face from sweating and it reminded you of the day she asked you out.

63-63 with three minutes to spare.

Your squad tried not to show that they were itching from the sidelines, eyes glued to the players as you were lined up by the benches, waving pom poms now and shouting your usual chants, trying not to get drowned out by the passionate yelling of the audience.

Be aggressive! B-E aggressive! I said be aggressive B-E aggressive! B-E A G G - R E S S I V E! Whooping the house down show ‘em who’s the leader — bring ya’ baby down down, go cheerleader!

You tried to keep your grin as you chant, moving your hips in time with your claps and arm movements as you watched Abby’s team mate miss the net, ball rebounding off the backboard. You caught a glimpse of the frustrated expression on Abby’s face, jogging around players and yelling directions over the crowd that seemed deafening at this point. You watched her eyes rake through the audience, looking for a talent scout shaking her head and drawing a big red cross on her clipboard or something. Her eyes then found you, a inkling of panic that was calmed by the tide that was your face staring right back at her, smile still plastered as you repeat your chants with your group. The sight of you surged something through her, she had to do it for you.

63-63 with two minutes to spare.

“Don’t worry guys, Abby’s got this.” Liv twinkled proudly, like the blonde captain even knew her name and you felt sick. Sick with nerves, sick with possessiveness, sick with irritation. You stomped your feet that little bit louder whilst you cheered, wanting to dash your pompoms at her head. You felt sweat trickling down your spine, head starting to pound from all the tension and noise. Was the crowd getting even louder? Where did you put your water bottle?

63-63 with one minute to spare, and there was no time to drink.

Even the chants stopped, the squad trailing off just to watch in awe. The sound barrier practically broke when the ball came to a thudding halt, caught mid pass by none other than Abby Anderson, basketball hero. This other team were good, frighteningly so — but they were no match for her. She dribbled with precision in and out of players until she met a wall of her opposition, closing in on her fast to snatch the ball. She turned left, turned right, looking for someone on her team she could rely on to get the ball in the net. The coach yelled from the side, the cheerleaders gripped eachother, the audience stood on their feet. Abby’s knees bent, arms extending. Everything went slow motion, like it always did as you watched with wide eyes. The ball didn’t circle round the hoop, it didn’t slide down from the backboard, it slammed straight through the net so hard you thought when it landed it might leave a dent in the ground.

63-64— and the crowd fucking exploded.

You were immediately jostled to the side by your squad jumping up and down, grabbing eachother with screams. You stumbled, jaw agape trying to catch sight of her. Where are you Abby? Let me see you.

She was suddenly there, expression mirroring yours. The world still moved slow, spotting eachother now. She took off toward you, dodging the grasp of a celebratory cheerleader, skidding past a team member that tried to pull her in, straight toward you. You met her half way, feet in control now and leapt, Abby getting the same idea and thrusting her arms around your waist, swinging you round in a circle. Then, you could both smile, and it didn’t stop growing, not even when you smashed your lips together. There was no sound anymore, no screaming crowd or cheering squad members — just your own delighted giggle against her, the sound of your heart pounding in your ears, the back of her hot, sweaty neck in your palm, your teeth clashing together at the force of the kiss.

You pulled away to breathe and the sound returned like you’d just come back up from underwater, the yells, the cheers, the chanting of her name. “I did it I fucking— do you know what this— baby, i did it.” She was panting, forehead pressed to yours and hell, you couldn’t care less that it seemed the world was watching such an intimate moment.

“Your life’s gonna change Abby, i’m so proud of you.” You breathed, and before she could reply — expression of awe, and utter love struck, she was setting you down and her team was tearing her away, lifting her above their head, passing her another big golden trophy to add to her shelf. She held it in the air, and then came the flashing of cameras, the barrage of students running to celebrate with her. A cheerleader from the other team roughly brushed your shoulder as she passed you with a glare and you didn’t even stop to acknowledge her, just watching on with pride — hands clasped beneath your chin. Your Abby had won, and nothing else in that moment mattered.

8:04PM

“Is it braggy if I wear the jersey on top?” She was smirking a little, stood in front of you in all her glory in her apartment. You spun around at the vanity, eyes taking her in as you pulled your little pink dress further down your thighs.

Your girlfriend was showered, and dressed — donning her bright blue jersey over her grey hoodie and jeans. You grinned, standing up. She looked good, but she always looked good. You had to stand on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around her neck. “Don’t you think you deserve to brag, a little?” You flutter your eyelashes, tilting your head with a grin.

After every game that was won, a party was thrown at the house of one of the sports captains. It was tradition, and almost always it was in Abby’s honour, because she was almost always the star of every game. The one to think of a genius formation that would throw off the other team, the one to make changes last minute that would be the saving grace, the one to make the winning shot. Today was like no other, and you knew everyone was willing to go extra hard this time — after that win, Abby was like a fucking celebrity.

You felt like you were hit with a shockwave of noise as soon as you walked in. The bass from the speaker was all but vibrating the floorboards, the sticky…wet (?) floorboards. You blinked, accustoming yourself to the low lights, clinging onto Abby’s thick bicep as a swarm of people coming to greet her approached. Sometimes parties felt like survival, Abby being that buoy in a storm that you’d cling to until the tide had cleared. The music was loud as usual, familiar, what was the song playing? You recognised the familiar tune to Blame It by Jamie Foxx and T-Pain and nodded your head with a false confidence. Drink, I need a drink — you thought, detaching yourself from Abby to beeline to the makeshift bar once you’d spotted it. Not the punch, you weren’t stupid — you had no clue what people had put in there. Vodka… vodka where are you? You grabbed the clear bottle with the red lid and poured yourself a generous amount into your cup before filling the rest up with… what were your options— cranberry juice. Nice. This will get you by. You needed social skills tonight, Abby had won a huge game and you didn’t wanna drag her down with your shyness. You sipped, no — downed some of your drink with a wince, some liquid spilling down your chin. Alter ego activate, shyness be gone.

You found Abby again, and when she spotted you awkwardly trying to wedge yourself through a gap to get to her she slotted her arm through, parting the sea of people like Moses himself to pull you right up beside her, torso to her ribs. You could stay like this, right up on her— you wanted to stay like this, but you’ll be damned if your girlfriend wasn’t social.

It’s an hour later, you’re drunk, laughing at something dumb Manny had come up with, social for once — and you hear them before you see them. The gaggle. The malicious giggles, pitched just a little higher than their real laugh in an attempt to turn heads. It works, you turn, there stand your cheerleader friends. ‘Friends’.

You can tell they went hard with the pregaming because they’re clinging onto eachother, forcing their way through the party crowd like a cluster of germs. That’s mean, you think to yourself, shaking off that feeling — the ugly feeling rising in your stomach like scalding bile. Insecurity, the feeling immovable even when you’re drunk and joyous, lodged into you seemingly forever, an arrow with spikes. You push it down, push it down, push it down as they squeal and come towards you. It flares up with immense force when you catch their outfits. They’re all wearing ‘Anderson’ jerseys. Did they fucking buy personalised jerseys?

It’s like you step out of yourself for a moment because you reach out and take a hold of the jersey across the cheer captains chest, turning her around and pulling the material taut as you see ‘Anderson’ in crisp white font across her back, mocking you. Your mouth is agape, unfocused and she steadies herself, turning back around and grabbing you.

“You like ‘em?” She whoops and all the girls join her, fondling their jerseys proudly and looking around for more eyes.

“Personalised jerseys?” Is all you manage to let out, just a simple observation. Liv falters for a second, something mischievous twinkling in her eye, lip curling up ever so slightly.

“Baaabe, the manufacturer f’ed up our order, and we fell one short. But we figured you’d have your own one right?” She eyes you obviously. Her malice is hardly hidden anymore. “Abby didn’t give you her jersey?” She tilts her head, as if it were an innocent question. You bitc—

“Abby!” The copper haired girl behind her squeals and you don’t have to turn around to know your girlfriend has unknowingly made her presence clear and accessible. The troupe practically rush you, shoving past to circle Abby once more. The uncomfortable look the blonde had yesterday in the court was gone, the one drink she’d been harbouring all night loosening her up a little — which made that insecure, jealous feeling nestle itself back beneath your ribcage.

“Heeeey— ohhh, awesome!” She smiles in a friendly way when she notices their jerseys. The same friendly expression she’d give to anyone, not flirty or lusty in the slightest — but they’re grabbing at her and batting their lashes up at her like they want to jump on her there and then and you feel yourself trying to crush the red solo cup in your palm. You’re broken out of your enraged trance because your sweet, thoughtful girlfriend is pulling you through the crowd they made, grinning without a care in the world. “You see this babe? Ah, should have given you my one to wear huh?” She laughs, and they laugh, but for different reasons.

The girls leave her alone for a while, but God they’re always fucking watching. Finding ways to subtly interact with your girlfriend. Accidentally bumping into her, which she barely notices until they start profusely apologising. Dance moves becoming inherently more sexy when she turns in their direction — not even looking at them but oh do they try. You finish your drink, because you need to finish your drink— and succumb to the urge to be that girlfriend. Who gives a fuck? Maybe you are that girlfriend.

It didn’t feel like you when you impatiently tugged her away from Nora, another basketball player, mid conversation, hands clasped in Abby’s silky jersey, pulling yourself to her chest, your own tits squishing against her.

“Aaabs.” You whine, and it’s giddy, lustful because she just looks so good. She smirks down at you, letting you tug at her, letting you move her. She looks so into you in that moment and it just… somethings not enough. You’re glancing for your cheer team, and that hideous feeling of shame briefly twinges inside you. Are they watching this? Seeing me touch you? Do they know you’re mine?

“Baby.” She’s returning your giddy smile, and you have to pull away from a moment so that you could back up a little… a little more into the clearing… give them a perfect view.

“Y’look so good.” Is all you can say because it’s true, and you’re pretty sure your eyes completely glazed over— pupils shooting out wide when she grabs a handful of your ass, a little rough but in a loving way, just like the Abby you’re used to — using her grip to pull you back into her hard, a small ‘hmph!’ whimper forced out of you when you all but slam into her strong chest. You love it when she got like this. Grabby. Forgetting her own strength and manhandling you. You’d usually be giggling and shoving her away in public, but you craved the eyes now. You wanted viewers, jealous gazes, realisations — Abby is locked in.

“Oh it’s like that huh?” She’s chuckling at your expression. Forever her needy girl.

You sucked in your lower lip, eyes melting into that doe eyed expression that made her want to fuck it off your face, and she squeezes your ass a little harder. Your knees practically buckle, face burning hot because you feel your pussy spread open under your dress — as if she’s opening the floodgates by hand, wetness pouring out into your underwear. You hoped and prayed they were watching. Screw your little Anderson jerseys, she’s gonna be knuckle deep inside me in five minutes if the two of you kept this up.

“Cant wait to— mm—” You turn your head. Liv is snickering, whispering, but her expression says it all. Jealousy. You feel victorious. Abby curls a finger around your chin and your distracted gaze is back on her.

“Cant wait to what?” She glances in the direction of what you were staring at and your heart skips a beat.

“Can’t wait for you to remind me what a winner feels like.” You breathe out quickly and she’s back, smirking hard like she can’t control it. If she was packing, she’d be tilting her hips forward by now, digging her strap into the mound of your cunt through your thin dress where you stood — and it makes her wish she did pull the harness up her thick thighs beneath her jeans before the two of you left for the party.

“Yeah?” Her voice is breathy, low. “Forgotten already?” She chuckles, and she’s kind of right to— she was always winning, it wasn’t easy to forget.

“Mhm. Oops.” You shrug and you both giggle this time, her hands sliding around your waist. Each time her hands find a new spot on her you can’t help yourself from glancing over at the eyes. At Liv. At the whispers. Get a good fucking look.

Abby leans in, hot breath on your cheek and you turn back to her nearly knocking noses. Her brows are frowned a little and her cheeks rosy, lips parted in a way that made you wanna shove your tongue between them. “Give me… a little while longer to bask in this.” She chuckles, humble like she always was. She steals a kiss from your parted lips. “Can’t leave a party thrown for me so soon… just a little longer and I’ll take you home and give you a reminder, pretty girl.” her blunt finger nails rake behind your ear, scraping whatever hair was there backwards, pecking you again. Your eyes fluttered at the feeling, hot and lethargic. You wanted to be obedient but something still negged at you, buzzed in your ear like a fly to ‘stay focused’.

You gripped her strong arms. An attempt at control.

“Don’t have to leave. Can just go upstairs. Right here right now.” You whined in an impatient way this time, fingers curling around her hoodie peeking from beneath her jersey. She blinked a few times and you knew she wasn’t a huge fan— Abby never liked quickies, especially not on a celebration. She wanted each time she fucked you to be memorable, like a performance — she was a love maker, and to her public quickies were usually just a little… euck.

Her soft smile remained, because the request only told her that you were desperate to have her. All the more reason to make you wait, she thought. Get you real worked up. Yeah, she could have fun with this.

“Not happening, babe. Wanna take my time on you, don’t you wanna have it out with me all night?” She tilted her head, persuading, blowing hot air over your mouth and God — yes, on one hand you wanted that badly but there you go again… eyes trailing off to the right… over to your cheer group. Show them. Drag me up the stairs Abby. Make me walk out the bathroom limping. Show them what they can’t have.

So you said “No!” and you were one quick movement from actually stomping your foot like a child. Abby looked taken aback, but she still chuckled. Not in a mean way, but was it ever? She leant back from you, trying to gauge just what was going on.

“No?”

“I need you here. You… stop denying me they’ll — they’ll see— it’s embarrassing—” The shovels in your hand and you’re digging that hole, deeper, deeper…

“Who will see? See what? Babe what’s with you?” The smile melts off and she’s frowning now. Ohhh, boy. You’ve fucked it up. You blink, like you’re trying to wake up from your petty possession. You look once more and they’re intrigued now, gossiping. Are they fighting? Will Abby be single by the end of the night? This enrages you more, but you don’t have time to react because Abby sees it now. See’s that envious look in your eye, but it’s not really envy — because Abby has never in her life given you a reason to be jealous. It’s uncharacteristic and Abby’s stomach twists a little. “Oh.” She steps back, no no no.

“Sorry.” You splutter out. “Sorry, sorry— I’m sorry Abby I don’t know what that was. I just freaked. I want you to bask in this, people are here to celebrate and you deserve that. Sorry. I don’t… know what I was thinking there.” You try and force out a chuckle at the end to lighten things but it doesn’t come out quite right. Abby watches you for a moment, a little tense and worried. Eventually she gives you a small smile, coming close to you again, a hand on your shoulder.

“S’okay. No more drinks yeah?” She’s gentle and you’re embarrassed, of everything really. This is meant to be the greatest night of Abby’s college career and you’re… doing this. Making it about you. Your shoulders slump a little before you shake yourself off physically.

“Yeah, no. Good call. Whew.” You smile and she smiles back. It’s all okay. You’re okay.

Except it’s not, and she knows that. Things are a little weird now, you’re distracted and trying too hard to please her. Eyes snapping towards her guiltily every time she catches your gaze wandering off, as if scared she’ll see you looking at those girls again fearfully. You stay right by her side, shyness creeping back in. You’re smiling in a polite, forced way, and she can tell you’re not really enjoying yourself anymore. Not after that weird moment. It gets a little later, and the party isn’t in as full of swing as it was before but still pretty lively. She can’t enjoy herself if you’re not, so why bother?

You watch her watch you, her shoulders dropping slightly when she sees how tense you look. Truthfully you were worried, you’d tried to show off — let your possessive urges control you — and now, insecurities at the surface you’d seem to make things worse. You didn’t know why you’d let this pick at you, get under your skin the way it has but the fact they’d all seen you have that weird moment? It was eating you alive. They were probably so smug, probably thought they stood a chance with Abby now. Your Abby.

“Babe let’s just go.” Your attention snaps back towards her, suddenly stood in front of you— her braid resting on her shoulder.

“What?”

“Yeah, no it’s— I can’t enjoy myself if you’re not. I’m not mad, baby I just don’t wanna force you to be here.” You feel so fucking bad.

“Abby, it’s not — I am enjoying myself. This is your party.” You express, coming close to her. Most of the alcohol had worn off by now, and you just felt sick from embarrassment— and this conversation was even more sobering. She shrugs, and looks around. It no longer seems to interest her.

“I know but… I’d rather you just be… not in this mood.” She speaks quietly but you hear her and your face falls. Did you really show yourself up that badly?

“Alright.” You match her pitch, and her back is to you again — saying goodbyes. You can’t look up, can’t look and see their disappointed faces. You wish you could close your ears, to not hear the choruses of ‘Already?’s and ‘Cmon Abby this is your party!’s. But you couldn’t keep your forlorn gaze glued to the ground for long, because you knew people would look at you, see your expression and know it’s your fault she’s leaving prematurely. You cursed yourself for caring too much about what people thought that night, and smiled politely in departure.

Abby took your hand, fingers locked into yours as she walked you toward the door, saying bye to people as she continued moving. You made the mistake of sparing your cheer team a departing look, and they were watching once more — glancing at each other curiously. Liv wiggled her eyebrows playfully as you passed her. “Ooo, someone’s in trouble.” She snickered, and your breath caught in your throat.

You didn’t start crying until the car was half way down the street. You’d tried to keep it silent at first. But the car was already silent, the radio not turned on and Abby not saying anything. You didn’t know what the silence meant, you just knew you didn’t like it. Maybe she was reconsidering things. You’d ruined her night, the night that was supposed to be all hers and you took it from her — all because of your petty, jealous, insecurities. That wasn’t the kind of girlfriend she deserved, you were supposed to put all your focus into supporting her. Exist for her. She’d never given you a reason to worry about other girls but for fucks sake — those girls. You let them walk all over you every single day and now they were all talking. All coming up with schemes to take Abby from you, thinking your relationship was on the rocks and maybe it would work. After how you acted tonight, maybe it would fucking work.

You covered your face when the tears started really coming down hard, a quiet sob shuddering out of you. Abby glanced at you, jaw tensing a little. Not because she was angry, just because she was so confused about how you’d gotten here. She’d never seen you like this before and just… what had she done to get you so fucked up like this? She spoke your name, calmly — full of authority and a little detached, not cooing it gently like she would when she’s seen you cry in the past. Her tone made another sob hiccup out, and she spoke it again. “Look at me.”

You did, and you had to wipe the snot from beneath your nose so that it didn’t stick to your hands when you pulled them away. Your makeup was ruined, eyes sore and red and she glanced over you, her main focus on the road.

“Just… breathe and calm down. We are gonna talk about this when we get home.” She shakes her head a little, eyes on the road. Your heart aches and soothes a little at her calling her student apartment ‘home’ like it belonged to the both of you. You don’t have time to indulge the fantasy. “I don’t… understand this… tantrum babe.” She mutters like she’s too mature for it all and she is, which makes you all the more embarrassed. She doesn’t speak for the rest of the journey home, tear drops on her expensive leather seats. Well — she doesn’t speak if you don’t include the occasional “Breathe.” and such when she’d hear your breathing start to pick up, upsetting yourself all over again.

She walked you up to her apartment and you hugged yourself as you stood behind her, watching her unlock her door. She held the door open for you, but didn’t look at you when you walked through — unsurely looking around like you’d never been there before. You wasn’t sure what to do or where to go. Did she want to talk now?

You stood in the hallway and her warm hands gently came down onto your shoulders.

“Go sit down on the couch.”

When Abby tells you what to do, you do it. And not because she’s scary, or intimidating or aggressive. She just carries this… air to her. One that makes you want to respect her, no matter how worked up or pissed off or upset you are. It would be the same way every single time, she’ll calmly make a demand and you fucking do it. Of course, minus the mini ‘tantrum’, as she so kindly put it, you had.

She didn’t follow you, infact — she walked the other way to her bedroom, hearing the door click shut when you made your way into her living room area. The leather couch that was usually home to so much love and affection now cold against your skin when you sit down on it, the sleek material frigid from not being touched for hours on end. You bring your knees together shivering a little, and a few minutes later Abby returns. She wields a makeup wipe, and presses it into your palm silently when she lowers herself into the arm chair opposite you. You want to cry out like a baby and reach for her, ask her why she’s sitting so far away but you have to be good. You have to fix everything.

Abby’s thighs spread as she leans forward, staring you down analytically with her elbows on her knees, long fingers wringing her wrists before she looks down at them, puffing out her cheeks with a long exhale. You wait for her to speak, wiping the gooey eye makeup up from your cheeks and eyes.

“Tell me… what this is all about.” Her voice holds a quiet kindness this time, despite the line that appears between her brows as her expression becomes a little exasperated.

You suck in a quick breath, eager to explain yourself and beg for forgiveness — “Nothing I was just being —”

“The truth.” She raised her hand to speak which silenced you instantly. You press your lips together, letting two fat residual tears race down your cheeks either side, the left tear winning victoriously when it surpassed your jaw and streamed lazily along your neck. Abby watched it move.

You thought this time. No more covering it up. No more being immature. Be truthful. What was this all about again?

“I think…” You gulped, willing yourself to be brave. You knew Abby might not see you as a ‘chill’ girlfriend anymore— exposing your insecurities and jealousy — but she wanted the truth and being a liar was objectively worse. “The girls on my cheer team are… I think they’re picking on me.” You admit quietly and her brows jump up, intrigued. Not quite what she was expecting. She stays quiet and you carry on. “I’m not… I don’t wanna be toxic and jealous. I let it get the better of me tonight. They’re always… flirting with you, talkin’ about you, showing off to you, trying to get your attention and at first I didn’t care because, I have you, you know? And you’ve never given me any reason to believe your eyes have wandered but fuck it’s so hard when they’re just… relentless. And beautiful and confident and I’m… I know what people think Abby. I know I’m shy and people wonder how…” You trail off, and you’re not sure you wanna admit any more. Not after that explosive rant.

“People wonder how what?” She pushes, and she’s scooched so far onto the edge of her seat that her long legs are bunched up and she’s barely perched on it.

“Wonder how… I got you. Why you stay with me.”

The confusion just melts off her face.

She blinks a couple of times, feeling like someone just placed her heart in a panini press hearing your sad and small tone of voice. So small, and she can tell you really believe what you’re saying and it just kills her. She wants to reach out then and there and hold you and kiss you and cry for you but you’re talking again.

“And I know you’re not a trophy and I don’t see you that way, please don’t think I ever—”

“No, no no no.” Abby cuts you off as a correction, eyes shut as she scrubs a hand down her face. She gets it now. The jealousy. Clearly, you hadn’t noticed the wandering eyes of her basketball team players, smirking over at you when your little cheer skirt that was too short for everyone’s good would flip up, shaking your hips in your adorable little routines. How if she didn’t keep you on her arm at every party, frat boys would start to circle you like crows, waiting to pounce until they realise, holy shit that’s Abby’s girl, and back off. If anyone got it, it was her. “You don’t need to explain anymore I’m… sorry. Come here, please.” Her pained expression relieves you and also devastates you because now she’s blaming herself.

You listen, again, because it’s Abby and you push off the couch to stand in front of her on the arm chair. She pulls you to sit sideways on her leg, thick arms wrapping around your waist protectively. She looks up at you, brows furrowed.

“You are beautiful. I don’t… want anyone else. Ever. I love you, baby. You know I love you? You know I don’t give a fuck about any of those other girls. They’re not you they’re not… c’mon.” That gentle cooing voice has broken through and more tears slide down your raw cheeks. She’s wiping them away this time, coarse thumb swiping the moisture until it absorbs into her skin, becoming apart of her.

You sniffle, overwhelmed. “I’m sorry. This is your night and you’re comforting me. I promise I’m happy for you.” You hiccup into her neck when she pulls you in, and you feel her shake her head because her braid tickles your arm.

“I don’t care.” She chuckles honestly and cups your face to pull you back, make you look at her. She’s so beautiful you want to cry some more. “I don’t. It could be my birthday and I’d still look after you. You’re my girl, yeah? You over everything.” She exaggerates, moving her head slightly to meet your eyes when you try to shamefully drift them away.

“Kay. Love you, Abby. M’so lucky.” She feels you sigh in relief and your body relaxes just a little bit. Her hands slide around your back and press into the muscle, massaging and rubbing — trying to get you to just melt and become one with her when you cuddle her.

“I’m lucky.” She speaks into your temple, pressing kisses there. She manages to gently manoeuvre you until her lips are pressing the same quick succession of kisses onto your swollen pouty lips. She hums in satisfaction and you feel something stir in your tummy. The hum was almost primal, one that said ‘this is mine.’ You wanted to hear the noise again. Without too much thought behind it, you turn to sit on her lap fully, facing her now. You pull yourself closer with your arms around her neck and your kisses begin to dot along her jawline. Come on Abby, make the pretty noise.

She sighs, tilting her head for your access and thinks. Thinks over everything that had just happened. Maybe she hadn’t done enough, her brain had been so focused on winning the game that perhaps she’d forgotten to reassure you when you needed it, and she knew how important reassurance was in a relationship. An urge spread through her body, starting in her stomach like an icy cold lake and travelling up to her chest like molten lava. The urge to just… give you everything. Everything you wanted and needed. Everything you couldn’t ask for and everything she should have given you. Abby had always harboured a ‘spoiling’ side, and in that moment it had kicked in hard.

She pulled the strap of your dress off your shoulder, letting your head tip back this time as she sucked and nipped at the soft skin there. She loved how opposite you were to her, when she was sweaty and rough around the edges after a game you were still impossibly soft everywhere, still smelled sweet and clean and like you, like she was a wild lion coming to lay her cheek in your gentle hand after slaughtering a deer.

You squirmed on her lap and Abby jumped between your lips and your skin, feeling that beautifully familiar warmth begin to spread through your underwear again. Starting with your clit starting to throb when she’d gently buck her thighs below you — all the way to your hole that started to ache and crave the feeling of her inside. Her tongue lapped up your own, sucking obscenely as her hands pushed your lower back, bringing you higher on her lap and— oh?

You were now sitting atop a bulge. One that wasn’t there at the party. You thought back to her disappearing into her room as you sat down on the couch when you’d arrived back at the apartment and smiled at the feeling against her lips. So calculated, Abby — and she smiled back because she knew. Knew she was gonna have to fuck the attitude out of you after your talk, she just didn’t expect you to fold so easily. For it to take such an emotional direction. She could just tease you for being a cry baby, but where’s the fun in that?

You start to grind like you just can’t help yourself, your shared saliva pooling beneath your pouty bottom lip as the kisses became more sloppy and intense. You swore you could never get over how good it felt to hump against her jeans in just your panties, the combination of materials and the writhing of your hips always leaving you gasping. Abby too, the way the strap was positioned would press snugly against her clit making her breath stutter against your lips. She refocused herself, fingers tugging your dress up to your waist. Enough had been about her tonight she’d decided, now she wanted to make it all about you.

You detached for a moment to pull your dress over your head, lips meeting once more as she tossed it aside. Next came the unclasping of your bra, and then she was sliding your thong down your legs. When she balled it up to chuck aside she felt the wetness in her palm.

You stood over her now, the one time you weren’t shy — stark naked. She’d made you so comfortable over the ten months you’d been together it wasn’t even something you’d take a second worrying about anymore, Abby knowing the map of your body like the back of her hand. She made you feel so safe with her gentle-ness. Abby, big scary Abigail Anderson, Abby ‘i’ll beat your fucking face in if you step up to me outside the basketball court, no seriously repeat what the fuck you just said’ Anderson. And you’ve reduced her to this gentle, loving giant. Someone who was rubbing her big hand up your tummy as her thighs caged you in where you stood. Reaching for your breast and just rolling her thumb over your nipple making your legs quiver a little. All her stoicism that everyone else knew her for had melted away, her eyes soft and loving as she gazed at you, touching you.

She reached up and began tugging her jersey off over her head, leaving her in the grey hoodie. Where you expected her to toss it aside with the heap that was your pink dress and underwear, she brought her attention to it, bunching it up and opening up the head hole of the shirt. “C’mere.” She muttered, standing up over you, your neck suddenly craning to meet her eye. “Put it on. Fuck those other girls cheap ass jerseys. My girl gets the real deal.” She’s speaking so quietly that you feel like she’s talking to herself, that you shouldn’t intrude her stream of thoughts — even if the words made you literally clench your hole so tight you could crush a fucking walnut in there.

She slipped it over your head and pulled your arms through the arm holes, stepping back with her hands on your shoulders so she could look at you. Look down at you. See the way you stared up at her tall frame, her jersey swamping you and resting beneath the swell of the plump under-cup of your ass cheeks. “Looking good babe.” She smiles, holding you back to carry on looking at you even when you try and lurch forward, hands loose-fisted and grabby as you try and climb all up on her again where she stood. She subdued you by taking your hand, walking away and practically dragging you along behind her. “C’mon, this way. Not fucking you on the couch.” Though it wouldn’t be the first time.

She had you on her lap again in no time, her feet planted heavily on the floor as you press into her cloaked strap, legs stretched over her thighs making you ache in that delicious way that said nothing more than ‘my girlfriend is fucking huge, the gym fears her’. Impatient, you’re tugging her hand that was cupping your throat, pushing it down, down between your thighs. She pulls away, a little breathless with her mouth all red when she slides her fingers through your cunt, eyes on your hard nipples creating little mountain peaks against her jersey as you breathe heavy in her face. “Soaked, baby. Have you been needing me like this all night?” She’s whispering before her lips are on yours again, stroking your little bundle of nerves head on, making your legs flatten out and tense in the air with a quiet yelp. “I know.” She hums, and that’s all it takes to soothe you. Yes, she knows. She always knows. It was Abby for gods sake, if anyone knew exactly what you needed… well.

After torturous stroking, Abby’s middle finger curls down right to where your hole is, pressing and massaging and teasing. She knows you want her inside, you want more than her fingers, fuck — if you could you’d just consume her whole but this will definitely do the trick. “I want you,” she starts, slurred by the open mouth kiss she’s pressing to your shoulder now. “To ask me nicely. Not like you did earlier. Show me my good girl.” She whispered, like it was one last attempt at being strict before she just gave in and spoiled you. It fooled you, anyways— your mouth falling open with a whine as her thumb pressed up against your clit.

“Please Abby— ‘ll be a good girl now okay? Wanna be your good girl.” You’re blabbering against her cheek and she doesn’t fight you on it, pushing inside you and basking in the way you give her a welcoming squeeze upon entry.

“How are you still so tight? After I’ve abused that pretty pussy so many times?” She sighs, tone suggesting that she’s actually pondering it at a moment like this. You don’t have the strength to respond, fucking against her fingers. You loved foreplay with Abby, don’t ever doubt that for a second — but tonight there was something different, it just felt like preparation. The two of you knew that tonight of all nights you needed to get fucked with her cock, and that would be the main event. She could barely wait, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t loosen you up around her callous digits first so she can slip right inside of you easily.

She slips another finger inside you and you black out a little bit, like you always do. Maybe it was all the emotions finally catching up with you, but you just go limp in her lap, letting her finger fuck you the way you need. “Prettiest girl ever. Don’t know what the fuck you were worried about. Gonna fuck it out your brain tonight, yeah?” She’s cooing again and she knows that’s your sweet spot, that tone of voice doing it for you every damn time. If anything was gonna make you cum quick, it’s gonna be the sympathetic drag of her voice as she ensures you that you don’t have to think anymore.

“Yeah Abby, please! Yeah!” You sound pornagraphic and your spine flushes hot at the idea of the surrounding students in her neighbouring apartments hearing any of this — though it wouldn’t be the first time (as told by the passive aggressive post-it note left on her door reading ‘Keep it down we don’t all need to hear your girl busting a nut.’ that one time. You didn’t live down the humiliation for a week, and Abby of course only took it as a challenge to make you moan louder despite your pleas of ‘Abby! You’re going to get kicked out of your building!’ whilst her head was in your crotch. Anyway—)

She was practically vibrating her hand at this point, fingers squelching in and out of you with sounds so mortifying that if you weren’t experiencing such euphoria perhaps you’d bury your face into her cuss her out for embarrassing you. You, were slurring a made up language made of her name, curse words and just down-right vulgarity as you felt your stomach lock up in that scaldingly familiarly way. Abby chuckled, smug at your babbling, responding with “Yeah?” and “Uh-huh?” until you were clenching hard around her fingers halting their movement slightly, which gave her the green light to move onto “Thats it baby, cum for me. Just getting started with you tonight. Give it to me, pretty girl.”

You went numb, pretty much everywhere but your cunt — something high pitched and feral deafening you through the impending white noise of your orgasm — wait, was that you? You could hardly breathe, and when some feeling returned to you, you felt stickiness all along the inner sides of your thighs and seeping into the rough denim of Abby’s lap below you. Jesus… did she make you—?

“Shit babe, fucking… baptised me there.” She pants, like she was the one that just received an earth shattering orgasm and you collapse against the strong muscle of her shoulder, trying to self soothe— trying to ground yourself. You twitched, her fingers stilling within you at the tell-tale sign of overstimulation. She pulled them out, rubbing her thumb on your bare hip as she pressed her chin to her chest looking down between your bodies, admiring the gooey mess you’d left on her. “Already got a little fountain going on down there baby, we haven’t even been going at it for that long.” She teases with a grin in a way you know is meant to be praise because as soon as you lift your head she’s attacking your hot cheeks with kisses.

“S’embarrassing.” You whimper, despite your small giddy smile and she tsks a little, hand creeping up to your throat, holding your sturdily there.

“If you’re still finding things embarrassing, it’s because I haven’t fucked all those bad thoughts from today out that pretty little head yet. You still want it?” She’s speaking against your lips now, effortlessly pushing her hips up beneath you and rolling her strap into your sensitive cunt again. Is that even a question?

“Still— still want it—”

You weren’t finished speaking, and Abby is moving at the speed of light. She cups your beneath your ass with one hand, still using your delicate neck as her main grabbing point— she twists the two of you, so suddenly you’re on your back and she’s hovering over you, all in one quick succession that makes your head spin. Your back bounces against the bed, bounces you into her and her thumb soothes over your throat. “Hands still working baby?” She kisses the corner of your mouth. You flex your fingers out of her vision, testing.

“Yes.”

“Undo my belt then, pretty.” It’s clear she still needs both of her hands to caress you, so you get to work, shakily reaching for the leather tucked within the denim waistband of her jeans. It’s smooth and feels expensive beneath your fingers, and the sound of the buckle clinking makes you squeeze out more of the residual arousal you’d spewed out only minutes prior. It’s like she can tell it does something for you, because her tough pads of her fingers come and rest on your sensitive clit again, just rubbing slow lethargic circles making it harder to pull the belt out of the loops. “Thats my girl.” She helps you, taking the belt and placing it aside.

She does the rest, because you just weren’t moving efficiently enough for her liking, one hand sliding up your soft arm until she’s pinning your wrist gently to the bed, fingers intertwining with yours, and the other hand deftly unpopping the button of her jeans and sliding the zipper down. She pulls the familiar plastic cock out, adjusting her hips and resting the shaft along your tummy, tip grazing just below your belly button. “Think you’re ready for me now?” She leans forward, nudging your chin with her own to get your lips where she needed to capture them, sucking on your bottom lip barely allowing you to sigh out a pleasured “Uh-huh.” against her.

She sits up, pulling her hoodie off leaving her in just a fitted black wifebeater and the pace of everything changes all of a sudden. It’s less desperate and more purposeful, coming into her dominance and remaining control like she always did. She leant over you, reaching for the lube in the bedside drawer and leant back, drizzling it over the shaft. You reached forward without thinking and massaged it around for her, looking up at her with those big needy puppy dog eyes. She groaned, like you were actually jerking her off — greedily yanking her jersey up to sit above your plush tits for her viewing pleasure.

“Fuck… so pretty… Alright baby, deep breath in for me.”

She looked so good like this, hair stuck to her face and neck, jeans pulled just below her peachy ass being cupped by the ropey black harness. The royal blue plastic glistening as she slides it up and down your willing cunt. Her biceps bulging from holding herself up above you, making you just want to sink your teeth into her. Abby was a work of fucking art.

You follow her instructions, Abby kissing away your strained whimpers at the stretch. It only made sense that Abby Anderson, home to all BDE — was weighed down by a fucking monster of a strap, 7 and a half inches, thick and dark blue with added detail of veins and a fat tip. When you first slept together, after one very successful date, sitting on her lap in that little innocent floral dress that rode up your doughy thighs just right — she thought about calling the whole thing off until she could get her hands on a strap a little smaller and less threatening. Until, of course — your wide and blameless eyes were staring up at her, hand barely wrapping around it as you thickly muttered out a ‘I can take it Abby. Let me take you’, and the rest is obviously history.

She sighed out once she was fully seated in you, like it was a relief, like one day you might not be able to take her fully and she’d have to practise even more self restraint by thrusting in halfsies. You tensed up, suddenly aware of the situation again. A spike of sickly anxiety washed through your stomach. Did you deserve this? After the havoc you caused today? “Pretty girl. Let me in that head.” She whispers and it hypnotises you as she thrusts slowly, just grinding her hips against yours.

“Don’t — mmphm— don’t deserve this.” Your voice is high and a little panicked, and Abby’s eyes open to pin you down with her grounding gaze. She knocks your chin up gently toward her as if to say ‘look at me.’ and she rests her hand over your chest, feeling the hammering of your heart as you very suddenly become overwhelmed.

“Hey.” She drags calmly, raising her eyebrows. You try and relax, copying her breathing because you knew she was about to tell you to do that anyway. “Sweet girl.” She thumbs your cheek. “You deserve every last inch of this fucking cock.” She’s whispering again and you cry, hard. She picks up on what you need, and she presses up deeper into you, making your legs flail before wrapping tightly around her ass, your tits bouncing obscenely to the rhythm of her thrusts. “My perfect girl. Don’t have to worry about anything ever again. Yeah? Gonna fucking… go pro ball, make you my pretty little courtside wife. How’s that sound?” She starts to thrust a bit harder and you’re stunned out of your freak out session, distracted by her words and overcome by pleasure as you just listen. Interested to see where this fantasy will go.

“Yes.” Is all you manage and it’s barely audible but she hears it, and carries on.

“Gonna make it to WNBA for you baby. Not for me. So I can spoil you for the rest of my fucking life.” She grits her teeth, her big rough hands sliding around your back so she can cradle you, use your body to fuck you on and off her cock. You whine, barely aware of the fresh tears rolling down your cheeks. “You wanna give me that baby? Let me buy you every pair of shoes and stupidly priced handbags so you can look pretty for me at every game? Yeah?” Her voice is higher pitched and you think she might cum at some point, but she’s too determined to fuck your lights out completely for any of that.

“W—want that Abs, want you— I want —”

She’s interrupting, not finished with stuffing this fantasy into your brain until there’s nothing there but the manifestation of those thoughts. “You won’t even remember those girls on your cheer squad. They’ll be nobodies. You think I’d ever fucking look at anyone else but you, hm? My pretty little wife?”

Just when you think things can’t get more intense, she’s decided that she’s not physically deep enough — and pushes your thighs up to your chest, knees squishing against your tits as she stretched you, grunting out a “Fuck”, a sign of her losing control for a second. “N’then after every game. Can take you.. fuck, can take you shopping, fly you out wherever you want. Slut you out, just like this. You want that life baby don’t you? You wanna give me that life?” Your brain is muddled, and you can’t tell if you’re begging her or she’s begging you. Your mouth is open, but the air is punched from you and you’re just squeaking like a dog toy and she pounds your little cunt.

She reaches for what seems to be your on button, shoving her thumb between your lifted legs and grinding your abused clit again. “Wanna— wanna be your wife Abby. Want — I wanna—” You’re rambling, and then you’re cumming, harder than you’ve cum in your life. Your throat is raw, nails clawing for something, some kind of life support as she fucks you through your orgasm, breathless and determined. You vaguely feel yourself marking up her skin with your nails, but you’re never fully aware of yourself doing it — always just as shocked and guilty when you see the red streaks across her freckled skin the next morning whilst she’s brushing her teeth in the bathroom with a towel around her waist.

“Good girl. My good fucking girl you take it all. Take what I’m giving you.”

And you do, because when she goes to slow down you’re whining and bucking against her strap— fuck drunk and obsessive, finally getting to that dumb place she needs you to be able to rid of all those negative ideas you had about yourself earlier. She lets you breathe as she thinks about it, thinks about the way you misbehaved and the way you wouldn’t use your words. Maybe there was still more in you, more room for some reinforcement.

That’s why approximately five minutes later you had your cheek to the pillow having been pressed there by the basketball captain herself, Abby’s foot up on the bed and your ass in the hair as she drilled into your weeping pussy.

She pushes your back down, against the protests and your cries and your “Can’t Abs, so deep!” muttering for you to “Just fucking take it, sweet girl. I’m not asking.”

You give in and let her, already feeling yourself close to another animalistic style orgasm which only leaves your heart aching for your peeved neighbours that were probably just trying to sleep.

“You gonna listen next time, huh?” You don’t know how she has the endurance to keep slamming into you like this, wife beater pulled up above her sweat-gleaming abs now to not obstruct her vision of her creamy strap pounding in and out your soft flushed pussy. “You tell me when you fucking need me, yeah? You tell me when you’re feeling a type of way and you need me to reassure you from now on.” She waits a beat, and you wail. “Say yes.” She adds in command.

“Yeees!” You cry.

“Say yes Abby.”

“Yes Abby!”

You’re pretty much on autopilot at this point, brain so empty that all it knows is to do exactly what Abby says at all times, chasing that lingering tight coil in your stomach that whispered ‘cum one more time for her’ in your ear in a saccharine sweet voice that just about convinced you. Adding onto the persuasion, Abby’s weight dropped a little more onto you, hot torso against your back and hips grinding feverishly into you still. “Give me one more then. One more and that’s it baby. Keep being good for me.”

So you do, again, and this one is different from the rest — it’s your last drop, your last spot of energy. You’re weeping and grabbing and you feel it ooze out of you around the punishing blue plastic, and when you’ve done it Abby gets softer, kissing your spine and pulling out, so much praise your brain can’t even register it through your submissive fog.

“Did so good baby. So perfect, angel. Love you so much, my girl.”

She was cleaning you up before you could blink with a cold wet wipe from her bed side draw, practically scooping out endless amounts of your creamy arousal as you whimper at the sensitivity.

“Cold” You whisper, and you’re not sure if it was by choice seeing as you didn’t think you had a voice at that point.

“I know.” She chuckled, voice low and hands gentle— stroking the backs of your thighs as you stay on your front, legs trembling now as the adrenaline dwindles in your body. “Did so good for me. Let’s roll you over.”

She’s kicked off her jeans and her harness, now just in her boxers and wife beater— eyes flickering to your hands tugging at the jersey.

“Want it off. Wanna feel you.” You mumble sleepily once you’re on your back, desperately craving your skin on hers. She cradles your neck as she obliges, slipping the material up and over your head and pulling you into her.

You knew she carried on doting on you after you’d fallen asleep, and truthfully you don’t remember when you fell asleep — somewhere between her wiping you down and peppering kisses across your whole body — but like usual, her strap had knocked you the fuck out, and before you knew it you were waking up, disorientated by the morning sun flooding in through the blinds. Your senses start to arrive back to your body and you note them off like a checklist in your foggy brain. Touch, Abby’s arms locked around your waist. Sight, the blinding laser beam of sun attacking your eyeballs. Smell, Abby. Hearing, Abby. And the birds tweeting.

You roll, twisting in her arms so that your head was tucking beneath her chin against her chest, breathing her in and relishing in the way her skin stayed warm through the night like an electric blanket, unlike your own — cold to the touch from kicking off your side of the duvet.

She’s still fast asleep, always the heavy sleeper and after the game and the party you decide that big girl needs her rest, even if you’re now wide awake and staring at her. She looked like a painting, pouty lips swollen from a night of kissing, honeyed hair still in its braid but totally messed up now, pale blonde baby hairs sticking up and around her face. Her dark lashes kissed beneath her eyes and her chest moved up and down like the slow rocking of a small boat on a calm tide. You smiled when the sun slid further into the sky and created a beam across her eyes, making her scrunch them in her sleep and bury her face into the pillow.

You remember peeing last night now, before you’d fallen asleep — Abby carrying your warm, dazed body to the bathroom and sitting you on the toilet, letting you lean your cheek against her tummy to hold you up as you pee’d, gently shushing your complaints about removing you from the bed.

“S’not good for you to hold your pee after sex, babe.”

“M’sleepy. ‘Don’t care if I get a UFO.”

“UTI. And I care.”

You slowly slide out the bed careful not to wake your girlfriend, on a hunt for your phone. You pull Abby’s jersey back over your head for coverage and tiptoe out the room. Where did you put your bag again? You find it tossed on the couch haphazardly where you left it and fished through it, leaning on the back of her leather couch as you scrolled through. Your thumb tapped the Instagram logo and loaded it up, automatically gravitating towards Abby’s story, displayed at the top of the screen. You pressed it, expecting to see some kind of victory shot of her holding the trophy or a picture with her team, but instead were met with a photo of you that she’d taken when you’d fallen asleep last night— your head turned the other way on the pillow, arms tucked beneath it. Bare back glowing in the dim light of the room, bed covers resting at your waist. The caption reads: ‘Future WNBA wife.’ followed by your @.

Any other day you might gasp, due to the nature of the picture being that — well — it’s clear even to the untrained eye that you’d just been fucked within an inch of your life. But you grin, glowing from the inside out. She was showing you off, indirectly reassuring you even more because she knows you need it. You press a heart on the story, stepping in the direction of the bedroom to attack her sleepy face with kisses— but your eyes catch on the kitchen instead.

The perks of dating someone with such a buff body, was that they always would be stocked up on plenty of food. Not like your dorm, thinking back to the microwave meals and tins of soup stocked up in your kitchen made you grimace. You swung open her refrigerator door, gathering ingredients to whip her up a winners breakfast.

Having made everything from scratch, by the time the breakfast was nearly ready you’d heard Abby stir and climb out of bed, disturbed by the accidental clattering of pots and pans. The water ran for a while, and as you turned off the stove — removing her frying pan of eggs, you’d heard her heavy feet plodding into the room.

You nearly burnt yourself at the sight of her, sweatpants pulled up low on her waist, no shirt, red scratches from your overexcited claws the night before wrapping around her bicep and over her left shoulder, assumably trailing down onto her back, and her hair down — a little damp, falling messily across her small chest. You offered her a small smile as she took in the scene, looking very serious about it too you might add. Turning around back to the chopping board to prepare some turkey bacon for her you felt her crowd you. A shadow casted over you. You were suddenly smaller.

“Makin’ me breakfast? Was I that good?” She rasped, huge hands sliding around your waist — instantly dwarfing you some more.

“Mhm. Breakfast for a winner.” You chirped quietly, too early to be excitable.

“Really leaning into this whole housewife thing aren’t you baby?” She chuckles and your face heats up. Is it that obvious? She presses kisses to the side of your neck, hands grabbing you all over. Involuntarily, you arch your back— pressing your ass into her crotch and she winces.

You freeze up, knife clattering out of your hand onto the wooden chopping board and brows furrowing at the way her fingers tighten around your waist, lips by your temple now. You’re practically pinned to the counter, hands flexed wide on the smooth surface when you grind back against her again experimentally.

She’d never admit it, but last night had left her wanting, which she expected was selfishness considering she vowed to make it all about you. She pulled you back against her, your plush ass beneath just her jersey thumping against her clit again — nothing but that and the material of her sweatpants brushing up against her swollen button. You whimpered a little, not making it better for anyone and found your rhythm, rubbing and humping back on her, feeling her exposed tits against your back. “Like this?” You whine, and tug up the jersey so your bare ass is on display now, just a vessel for Abby to get off on.

“Just like that, pretty.”

The sight makes her push into you a little harder, bending you over the counter when there’s nowhere else to go. She continues humping you, leaning over you and kissing you, curling her toes against the tiles until she explodes into quiet, low gasps and groans— leaking into the grey material as you help her along with encouraging noises.

“Fuck babe, fuckprettygirl— my god.” She pants, leaning over you and pressing a kiss onto your back before tugging your jersey back down with a chuckle after a minute of panting and coming down. “Gonna put me back to sleep.” She gives your ass a loving slap, grabbing the flesh of it in her meaty hand before walking around you to lean against the counter top tiredly. You giggle, shaky hands getting back to food prep as she watches you with fond eyes. “How you feeling? All good?” She analyses, mind still on your series of mini freak out’s the night before.

Your eyes are on the turkey as you continue slicing shyly. “Sore. But all good.”

“Sorry baby.” Her thumb rubs your arm sympathetically.

“No I— I like it. Like feeling you the next day.” You don’t look at her, you can’t, but you know she’s grinning.

“Good.”

She disappears for a minute and reappears with her phone, scrolling, checking notifications. You begin to plate up her breakfast, feeling her hands wrap around your waist again, her phone held by your chest as her chin rests on your shoulder, leaning over you. “Your little friends saw my story of you. Think by now they get the message.” She smirks and you giggle, turning your head to kiss her on the cheek.

“I think so too.”

“If not, I’ll just have to make it clearer, yeah? ‘ll fuck you infront of ‘em if that’s what it takes.”

Your eyes widen as she backs off, going to help you plate up the big breakfast you’d made. You didn’t think that would be necessary anymore, feeling much more secure now but your achey, abused core twitched at the idea anyway— not totally against it.

You’ll pocket that for later.

#abby anderson x reader #basketball!abby #abby anderson smut #abby anderson au #modern!abby #jock!abby

3K notes · View notes

mo0nfairy · 1 year

Note

Ughhhh I neeeeeed part 3 of our guard puppy leon😭😭😭

That was so so good.

Like are you an angel??? How can you write so beautifully??

part 1. part 2. part 4.

tw :: re4 spoilers, obsessive!leon, yandere!leon, guns, explosions, being knocked out, parasites, some obsessive!ashley too.

⸺ eeeek !! ur too sweet! i've been having lots and lots of thoughts about this batshit-insane puppy dog. so, ask and you shall receive ~~

through trial and error (and leon's incessant suggestions to just go home together. you disagree with his suggestion and he can never say no to you, after all), you find ashley hiding in the church. and the immediate liking she takes to you is bridging on the cusp of creepy. what's even creepier is your guard-dog's reaction to such. you appreciate the sweetness the two have for you and how it helps keep you afloat in this absolute hellhole, but something still stalks in the back of your head...

you can't trust leon. you have no idea why, but with every ledge he helps you over or with every drop he catches you from, there is that looming shadow that lurks within you. it's a sense of dread that hangs heavy in your stomach, almost like hanging over the hill of a rollercoaster. there's alarms that blare whenever he gets too close, all that seem to be warning you to get as far away from this man as you can. and for why, you cannot tell. he is kind-hearted, brave, and has saved you from practically every abomination known on planet earth. so, why don't you trust him?

maybe it's the look in his eye. how his gaze for you is practically seeping with sunshine, but whenever he looks at the squeaky mouse on your hip, there's an uncanny shift towards something much darker. (ashley breathes within a mile radius of you and leon literally becomes the gif ^^). his perceptible distaste towards her goes further than his expressive eyes, unfortunately. it's "accidentally" dropping her when she jumps from the ledge, stifling a laugh at her pain only to immediately go red with rage when you help her from the ground. "falling over" and nearly knocking ashley head-first off a ledge; tending to a splinter you got while she tries to avoid being kidnapped by literally 73 los ganados.

ashley's dislike towards the man her father sent to retrieve her is perceptible, too. and her liking to you is even more evident. she'll cower in your embrace when leon shoots his gun a little too close to her ear, smirking at him over your shoulder when she sees how enraged it makes him. she'll interlock your fingers with hers due to being “afraid,” outright refusing to let go from thereon out; she'll ramble about her awesome life as the president's daughter, how astonishing she finds you to be, and how many riches she has (and how she can provide for you *cough, cough*). it's all so bewildering — you have all somehow managed to survive countless near-death experiences and yet, both of them are nothing but daisies and rainbows when your attention is on them.

most importantly, it is so fucking overwhelming. you wonder if their suffocating clinginess is the worst thing you'll actually face in this hellhole.

you're so caught up in avoiding the affections of these two and surviving in the process, you almost completely forget about your memory loss. you have history with this man, whomever he may be. and during trips to the merchant and the shooting range, you think he'll enlighten you on these forgotten pieces while you take a second to breathe. but, he never does. he either glares daggers into the girl at your hip or thoroughly checks your body for wounds you fruitlessly assure him don't exist. so, you guess you only have yourself and your goldfish-like memory to rely on.

all you can remember is his sweet soul, baby-face, and, rather, unconventional displays of affection. and you assume that this is how far the iceberg goes. just you and this lovesick boy in raccoon city. together. but oh, how wrong you were.

the three of you later find yourselves in the amber storeroom. you trace your fingers upon the crevices of the large hunk of amber in front of you, watching in disgust as the parasites within squirm like dying cockroaches. the topic of escaping this nightmare soon arose. you want to make it to luis' laboratory for the purpose of curing ashley of her infection, despite having to separate for a short period of time to retrieve the proper materials. leon just wants to get himself and you out of here, to where you'll live happily ever after in each other's arms.

"it's not too to turn back, you know. if we make it to the lab, we can save ashley, leon. we'll only have to seperate for a second, it's no biggie!" your suggestion falls on deaf ears, much to your dismay.

"not a chance. you're stuck with me to the end." you feel your heart drop at leon's response. the saying unlocks something within you, something you knew you never wanted to come out. it hits you like a train; dread permeates your entire being. you're stuck with me to the end.

an unfamiliar voice then fills the room. before you even have a picosecond to process the additional presence and leon's previous statement, you feel his hand on your arm, to where you're then swung behind him. you see the saddler from your stance over leon's shoulder, giving his whole villain monologue. you managed to derive only one piece on information from the cloaked creature before you: we are all fucked.

black veins travel up the neck of the blonde in front of you. he then falls to his knees, gun clattering onto the floor. ink-black strings spread upon ashley's face, the white of her eyes morphing into a sinister red. the color stiffly frames the green hue of her irises. sobs rack through her body; you hear a whimper of your name escape her mouth. an unseen force causes her to bend down and grasp hold of the gun, the atmosphere overwhelmingly intense. and as if she were a doll, the force pushes each foot in front of the other. closer to you.

you take a cautious step away from her, only to feel your back hit a surface. you turn to meet the chest of someone adorned head-to-toe in white cloth, ragged ropes tied around their waist and neck. their purple, ghastly hand the clutches onto your wrist like a lifeline, the pain causing you to hiss in response. you try and pull away with all of your might, but their inhuman abilities overpower your own. before your bones can crack beneath the sheer force of their strength, a gunshot permeates. your ears ring, thus using your eyes to identify the sudden intrusion of sound. the figure before you is now adorned in blood as it cascades down their once-white cloak. ashley persevered and fought through the infection seeping through her veins to save your life, but you’re too busy staring at the scene before you to realize.

"no... please! please, don't make me!" the force of the saddler returns, however. and the devastated voice of ashley only comes out in a quiet hum, with your hearing still disoriented from the gunshot.

this leaves you here, where you never thought you'd be. while you're gaze is locked on the body ashley brutalized, you're taken by surprise when you feel your body whipped around completely. her arm snakes around your neck as if you were prey, the other pressing the cold surface of the gun's barrel to your temple. you thrash and fight, but your efforts are merely pathetic in comparison to her newly supernatural power.

"we don't need another foolish lamb in our way. sweet child, do not resist!" his voice feels like a chill traveling up your spine. faint and ghostly, but all-too terrifying in the same breath.

you can feel ashley cry in your ear, begging the monster in front of you to let you both go. closing your eyes, you pray to whatever almighty being truly exists that you'll soon wake up back in your bed. then, you'll enjoy your breakfast and pantomime to your cat about the insane dream you just had. but, ashley's hyperventilated breaths still fan against your face and her grasp on you is still air-tight. as much as you wish it wasn't, this is your reality. and, inevitably, you will most likely die in the embrace of the girl you fought tooth-and-nail to save.

leon still clenches his body in agony; his gaze remaining locked to the ground beneath him. his attempts to fight against the pain with every sliver of strength in his body were futile. but, in a flare of clarity, leon is fortunately able to overcome the immense pain momentarily. his blue eyes, wide as dinner plates, frantically search around for you. and the scene he finds behind him causes his heart to sink into oblivion.

"no!" the sheer anguish in his cry is enough to grasp the attention of every presence in the room. 6 years. 6 years. he has been waiting over 2,190 miserable days to be with you. and as i stated before, like hell will he let you slip from his grasp again.

leon scrambles to his feet. but, before he can bring you into his tenacious embrace, kill everything that moves, and vow to never ever let anything like this happen to you ever again, that same force stops him within his stance. his hands halt inches from your face, so, so close, as he desperately reaches out to you. leon fights and resists, despite the agony swimming in his black-colored veins from doing such. he must get to you, no matter how much pain and suffering he must endure.

you are everything he could ever need; you are the very definition of his existence. his sobs rival those of someone overcome with grief and he is terrified of the fact that it may be him momentarily. so close to happiness, but now all alone. once again and forevermore. you can only watch in trepidation as he shakes with pure terror, muffled cries of "take me instead" and "please, anyone but them!" escaping through clenched teeth.

with the faint click of ashley's dainty finger, she pulls on the trigger. there is nothing.

silence hits the room like a tsunami. you're alive, but you don't dare let yourself hope. waiting for the other shoe to drop, it never falls. ashley's grip on you relaxes, to where you rip her arms off of you and practically throw yourself across the room. anywhere far from the insanity caused by this horrid infection. the two people you survived hell with are still under the trance, however. miserable cries protruding through the quiet; bodies shivering like someone who has been thrown into a winter lake. their eyes peer to their side, desperate to move their heads to look at you and ensure your safety.

you're still attempting to process what had just occured when you suddenly hear rumbling echoing in the distance. something soars through the sky, landing right at the feet of the saddler and his minions. chaos pervades as an explosion waves through the room, causing every piece of matter to ascend into the air, including yourself. you’re flung into the wind, where you then land harshly against the unforgiving ground. you cough into your arm in an attempt to rid your body of the smoke satiating your lungs.

"sorry, bad traffic! one combat chopper, compliments of hunnigan!" you hear the eccentric voice, the mention of hunnigan, the whirring of a helicopter and finally smile to yourself for the first time in what feels like years. help! it’s finally here!

a substance trickles down your forehead and down the expanse of your face. you bring your fingers to your skin, only to find the digits to be adorned with warm blood. following the trace, you soon realize during the pandemonium of the eruption, something had hit you square in the skull. fuck.

you hear a shout of your name before everything goes dark.

#resident evil 4 #re4 #re4 remake #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #yandere leon kennedy #ashley graham #ashley graham x reader #ashley graham imagine #yandere ashley graham #yandere resident evil #yandere #gn reader #gender neutral reader #venus’ brain #moonfairy

1K notes · View notes

heexseung · 6 months

Text

꒰ 🌧 ꒱ ┄ ❛ dark academia ；caeruleum ❜

* pairing: vampire!heeseung x afab!reader

* tags: smut, fluff, romantic, human!reader, degradation (m. receiving), praise (m. receiving), mentions of free use, handjob (m. receiving), overstimulation (m. receiving), bratty!heeseung / switchy!heeseung if you squint, cunnilingus, body worship [kinda] (f. receiving)

* summary: because you two were loud last time, rumours have been spreading around about you two, causing you to receive a lot of unwanted attention from your peers.

* word count: 10k

* a/n: hello babes !! omg i almost forgor about this- but i DIDNT SAUR ENJOY THIS REPOST <3333 tysm for all ur support i wish u the loveliest days ahead c: and if you wish to come drop by my twitch streams, you can dm me and ill gib u my link ehheeheheheh ok thanks baiii

Even on weekends, you'd typically spend all of your free time cooped up in your tiny dorm, studying. Your timetable consists of waking up, getting ready, going to classes, studying and sleeping. You don't really do anything else and you don't really go outside much either.

It's not that you're in love with learning, although you do like learning — it's just that you don't really have anything else to do. Nothing interests you and oftentimes, you'd get so bored that you just end up thinking, well, the books are right there. Might as well do some studying. At least it'll give me something to do.

You thought about going outside and seeing the world; the world that is so unknown to you and many other humans out there, the world that any human would be extremely lucky to see… yet you can't bring yourself to step outside of your dorm unless it's for classes. You wish you had more courage to do so but after your first day here, you decided that it's best to lay low and not bring any attention to yourself. After all, your existence here is already controversial enough.

Thus, you live your life like this. It's boring and repetitive… but it's not like you're doing anything to actually change it. Plus, being here is something that you've always wanted to do ever since you were a kid, so it's not all bad and despite the less than ideal treatment you've got during your time here, there's still nowhere else you'd rather be at.

Besides, the isolation, gossip and rumours don't bother you much anyway. It'll never be as bad as the first week and you're thankful that everyone here usually lets you be — that is, usually.

Lately, you've come to notice that people are gossiping about you again but you're not sure why. You can't really hear what they're saying nor can you really ask someone about it… but you doubt it's because you're human, they've already gossiped about that on your first week here.

Maybe it has something to do with your lab partner, Heeseung. After all, the gossip did start right after the day you hooked up with him. But you doubt it.

Speaking of your lab partner, you wonder where he's been all this time. It's been a couple of days since you last saw him, he didn't even come to class two days ago. You hope he's okay.

You don't think you'll see him today either. After all, you both only share one class together, Intermediate Alchemy, and you don't have that class today. Even so, for some reason, there's a part of you that hopes to see him today anyway, maybe because he's the only person who's actually kind to you here. Everyone else would just ignore you.

As you walk down the hallway to go back to your dorm, the faint sound of an unfamiliar melody stops you in your tracks. You do a double-take, is what you're hearing what you think you're hearing?

It is.

It's the piano.

Someone's playing the piano, and beautifully so. Such beautiful and delicate melodies played with such grace, you can't help but think to yourself, a complex piece like this must take days to learn how to play. Who's playing it? And what piece is this?

Thus, you follow the faint sound of the grand piano, hoping to find the talented person playing it. Besides, you're in no rush anyway.

After a few seconds of walking, you find yourself standing in front of a closed classroom door. The sound of the piano is still a bit hard to hear properly but you don't want to open the door and disturb the person playing so you press your ear against the door, trying to listen to the piano piece as discretely as you can.

Thank God the hallway is empty or else there'd be more weird rumours about me, you can't help but think to yourself while silently chuckling.

But all too quickly, like less than a minute or so, the melodies stop playing. You wait for a few seconds to see if they'd continue but instead, you hear the faint sound of footsteps coming closer to you. You barely have enough time to detach yourself from the door and look unsuspicious before the door suddenly opens and an annoyed looking Heeseung peeks out.

However, his expression quickly changes to a surprised one as he sees you standing there like a deer caught in headlights. Now with his eyes wide and his eyebrows raised, he opens the door a bit more as he looks at you. A moment of silence passes by until you awkwardly clear your throat to break the silence.

"Um, hi," you say to him, hoping that he's not annoyed at you for listening in on him.

"Ah… hi…" he shyly says. His left hand scratches the back of his head as his eyes move away from you, but only for a moment. "Sorry, I, uh… I thought you were... one of those people."

His tone is sharp and annoyed and he rolls his eyes as he says the last two words but then he looks at you again and gives you a smile that reaches his eyes.

You reply, "No, no. I'm sorry I… kinda listened in on you."

"Kinda?" He asks with a teasing tone, his smirk is evident.

You laugh in response. It's short but the lightheartedness of the laugh still manages to dissipate the awkwardness between you two. Heeseung leans against the door frame with a smile and softly says, "It's okay."

And then he pauses. It feels as if some words are meant to be spoken here, right at this moment, but there's only silence as he stares at you. A couple of seconds later, he continues, "Um… do you wanna come in?"

Hell yeah. You've never seen this room and you're curious.

It seems that your facial expressions tell him your answer loud and clear. He gives you a bigger smile, the kind of smile that one can't stop from appearing even if they tried, and takes your hand in his to pull you into the room with him. His hand feels slightly warmer than yours and something that surprises you is the fact that his hand feels like it fits you more than your own. It makes you feel strange... knowing that even your own hands, hands that were created to fit perfectly into each other…

All your life, you've always thought that there's no way someone else's hands would ever fit into yours as perfectly as yours do but as his hand holds yours, guiding you to take a seat in front of the grand piano, you think to yourself, maybe I was wrong.

Brushing your weird thoughts away, you pull your hand away from his and look around the room. It's a bit dark in here because the curtains are closed but you can still make out what's inside the medium shaped room; some bookcases at the wall, a whiteboard at the front, some musical instruments at the left side and this grand piano at the right. Other than that, it's pretty empty which makes it appear more spacious than it actually is.

After putting your sling bag down on the floor beside you, Heeseung, now sitting next to you, starts playing a different tune than before and you watch as his pretty hands gracefully move from one key to another, you listen to the unfamiliar yet beautiful piece of composition.

Soon, the music grows in pace and intensity, you can feel the composer's passion as it goes on. Then it slows down to a soft and romantic pace, somehow reminding you of the beauty of nature despite being in a dark room with none, and then a moment later, it grows again until it eventually comes to a really slow and soft tune that reminds you of the gentleness of a mother bird singing to its nestlings. As you listen to him play, you feel like you're being kept at the edge of your seat, following the music as if you're a leaf in a stream of water. It's exhilarating, really. You didn't know music could do such a thing.

By the time he finishes playing, you're in awe of his talent in playing the piano, fully knowing that playing such beautiful composition takes a lot of time and effort. Before you could compliment him, he's already speaking, "Do you like it? It's called Dreams of Love by Franz Liszt."

"Yeah," you say, a bit breathlessly, just now realising that you've been holding your breath. "Wow, you're so talented."

His laugh is soft in your ears. "Thank you."

Turning to him, you look him in the eyes and say, "I didn't know you could play piano so beautifully."

Your words make him blush a bit; a soft shade of pink dusts his ears and cheeks — it reminds you a bit of the intimate moment you shared with him a couple of days before. As he murmurs a shy thank you, it becomes a bit awkward between you two again. Heeseung starts fiddling with his fingers and he opens his mouth as if to speak but he closes it back after a second or two.

Eventually, he does speak but his voice is devoid of all lightheartedness from before and his face shows a sorrowful expression. "Look," he sighs and turns to look at you. "I should apologise for the… uh… well, the last time, um, you know." He then gives a frustrated groan, burying his face in his hands at his failed attempt to communicate his thoughts to you. "I'm sorry, I- We… we shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry."

You can only stare at him in disbelief. "What?" You say, your tone sounding a bit too harsh for both of your likings.

Truthfully, his words hurt you, more much than you'd like to admit. In a way, you kind of gave him a part of you, you showed him your vulnerability and you let him touch you in ways you'd never let strangers or even regular friends do... and now he tells you he regrets it. It hurts and you feel a bit embarrassed. You enjoyed your time with him but unfortunately, you guess he doesn't feel the same.

Suddenly, Heeseung realises that what he just said is probably the worst thing he could ever say to you. He quickly tries to take it back, "Wait- nonono, I meant-"

But you're already standing up to leave, not really wanting to hear whatever else he has to say. As you move, he gets up with you, his tone starting to sound desperate as he calls out to you. "No wait, please, please don't leave. I don't think you understand me."

And to think that I thought we could actually be friends.

You might sound a bit dramatic but you can't help what you feel. Now your relationship with him feels weird and awkward. You just want to quickly leave.

Right as you're in front of the door, he grabs your arm as a last attempt to stop you. Calling your name again, he pleads with you, "Please listen to me, it's not what you think. I-"

With wide eyes, his breath hitches as he stops himself from continuing, a bit mortified at what he almost blurt out. You only give him a confused look with an eyebrow raised. After a moment of just staring at each other in silence, he finally breathes out a worried sigh and surprisingly rests his head on your shoulder while intertwining his hand with yours. But what's more surprising is the fact that you don't have the heart to push him away.

What a weird person, you think. First he tells me he regrets having sex with me and now he does this.

"I'm sorry. I'm a mess when I'm with you," he murmurs, his face heating up at the confession.

As much as your heart beats faster at his words, you can't help but ask yourself, why? You're just a human. Heeseung can't possibly like you, could he? He has many other suitors that would be more than elated to be with him. Maybe he means that you just make him nervous — you wouldn't be surprised if you do since you make many people here nervous by just breathing.

Just as you're about to say something, you hear footsteps coming near you both, along with the sound of people talking... surprisingly about you. Although you're not new to people gossiping and spreading rumours about you, it does pique your curiosity; you've always wondered what people say about you behind your back.

On the first week, you heard people saying that you came from a rich family that had relations with the university's administrative staff or that a supernatural family adopted you or that you're not really human. Those were only the light rumours. Sometimes, when walking to class, you'd hear people say that you're working undercover for the human government, that you're only here to destroy the supernatural space and that everyone should be wary of you.

It makes you a bit sad, to be honest, because those words couldn't be further from the truth. However, you don't particularly blame them; humans haven't exactly been nice to the supernaturals, so you try to not take offence.

This time, however, the rumours are something else and it seems to involve not just you but someone else too.

"There's no way that happened," someone irritatedly says. If you could see them right now, there's no doubt in your mind that they'd be rolling their eyes.

"I'm just saying what everyone else is saying," another person says, their tone more nonchalant than the other’s.

"God, I swear, rumours are so dumb, like Heeseung and Y/N fucking in the dorms, really?" Your eyes go wide at the revelation, is that what everyone's talking about? But how did they know? And why is it a huge deal if I get laid? It doesn't make sense to you.

The same person continues, their voice growing louder as they walk closer to where you're standing, "This sounds as ridiculous as the time when everyone was saying that Jake fucked 100 people."

"Ah, but this one could actually be true," the other person thoughtfully says.

"What? Don't tell me you actually believe-"

"There are people who said they heard them," they say as a matter-of-factly, their voice now growing fainter as they pass by you but you can still hear the change of tone in their voice, now sounding more intrigued, "They say she edged him a couple of times and he wouldn't stop begging her to fuck him." Chuckling, they continue, "Must be a fun time."

Heeseung buries his head deeper into your shoulder as they say that, his hair tickles your neck a bit but you don't mind. Plus, you're more focused on their conversation, so much that you almost don't feel his hand tightening his hold on yours.

At the same time, you hear the former laugh and say, "You're so fucking weird."

Their conversation doesn't stop there but that's all you're able to hear, they're too far for you now. However, you're pretty sure Heeseung can still hear them — after all, his hearing is better than yours could ever be. But now that you know what everyone's talking about, you understand why he said what he said. He's surely not fond of the gossip about you two. You feel a bit sorry about it and despite knowing that it's not really your fault that people gossip about you, it doesn't really make you feel better.

A while later, Heeseung finally speaks again but he still doesn't move away from you and his voice sounds grim, a contrast to his usual demeanour, at least from what you've seen. "Sorry. It's my fault. I should've been more careful."

You try to look at him, a bit confused at what he's saying but he's hiding his face from you so you instead simply ask him, "Huh?"

He takes a deep breath as if trying to gather his confidence. Then, he pulls away from you and you're now able to see his face clearly. Ah, so that's why he was hiding.

With an obvious blushing face, he says, "It's not that I regret it, of course not, it's just that I think we should've done it elsewhere because obviously, people could hear and it was so stupid of me for not thinking about that." He gives out a frustrated sigh and continues, his voice soft and sad, "I guess I got carried away... I'm sorry."

Another moment of awkward silence as you try to make sense of what's going on. When you finally do, you can't help but question him, your voice almost as soft as his, "Why are you apologising?"

Giving you a surprised look, he pauses for a moment as he contemplates his answer. "D-doesn't the gossip bother you?"

He looks so sad that you just can't help but tenderly hold his face, making him look at you as you reassure him, "Heeseung, people always talk about me. It's nothing new. If anything, I should apologise since you got dragged into it."

Quickly objecting, he blurts out, "No, it's my fault! If I would've been more careful- if I haven't been thinking with my dick instead of my brain, this wouldn't have happened and you wouldn't have hated me and everything would've been fine and-"

You've never seen him look so distraught before. Seeing him being so uncharacteristically talkative worries you because despite knowing little of him, you do know one thing; he's not the type to word vomit, he always thinks things through before he speaks his mind and when he speaks, his words are fully thought-out. He may stutter here and there but they'd still seem thought-out and planned. Now, seeing him not able to do so and just desperately speaking, trying to convince you that he's at fault... it just doesn't sit right with you. How long had this issue been on his mind? And to what extent does he blame himself?

"Heeseung, calm down."

But he doesn't. He seems to be fully inside his mind, blurting out words as much as he can as if he's blurting out days' worth of worries. You're not sure what to do to calm him down but in a state of panic and with your hands already on his face, you pull him close and kiss him, hoping that the shock would be enough to stop him from overthinking.

Fortunately, it works. He gives a soft muffled sound as your lips touch his and then everything gets quiet. Still, he doesn't kiss you back, most likely too shocked at your actions. The kiss itself isn't long, you don't let it nor need it to be — you pull back a few seconds later. Looking into his almost teary eyes, you apologise for the sudden kiss, "Sorry, I didn't know-"

You're pretty sure he wasn't listening to you because now the tables have turned; now, he's kissing you and the kiss he gives you is way different than your attempt to get him to calm down — it's intense, messy, desperate and so intoxicating that you almost forgot to kiss him back.

When you do kiss him back, his actions only become more desperate. His hands constantly move; first from his sides to your shoulder, then to hold your face, then to your arm as he pushes you against the door, then to your waist, almost as if he's trying to make sure that you're really here. His lips never stop moving to press open-mouthed kisses to yours and as he does so, a small part of you can't help but feel like he's offering every part of him to you through the kiss, stealing your breath away in the process.

Eventually, you both pull away, needing to breathe. For a while, you both stare into each other's eyes. Heeseung rests his forehead against yours, his lips a bit swollen as he pants and his breath feels hot against your lips.

After a moment of intense silence, he speaks, his voice sounding a bit hoarse and it's as if he's talking to himself rather than to you. "You don't hate me."

You reply, "Of course not. How could I?" Gently caressing his cheek with your thumb, you whisper, "You're the only person here who's been kind to me."

Something in his eyes changes — you're unable to pinpoint exactly what it is but you don't ask either. He gulps, still breathing heavily, still looking into your eyes and then asks you with a soft wavering voice, "Why did you kiss me?"

It isn't his question that catches you by surprise but the look in his eyes that make him seem like he's expecting or hoping for a certain answer. If you were to look away, you could answer him honestly; "it was to help calm you down" but you can't look away, not when he's staring at you so intensely, not when he looks like he's begging you to say something specific as he waits for your answer. Your breath hitches as you think, unsure of what to say to him.

But it seems that you were silent for way too long. Breaking eye contact with you to look at the ground, Heeseung takes a step back and his hand rubs the back of his neck for a short moment.

"Did you only kiss me to shut me up?" He chuckles after he says that but the slight bitterness in his voice is evident.

"I'm sorry, I panicked. I was trying to calm you down," you eventually say.

He simply stares at you as if you just said the most absurd thing ever; eyes wide, eyebrows raised, mouth slightly open. After realising that you're actually serious, he grabs your hand and slowly brings it to rest on his chest, giving you the chance to pull your hand away at any moment if you wish. "Can you feel it?" He softly asks.

You know what he's talking about — his heartbeat right underneath your fingertips... but you can't feel it nor hear it. Thus, you replace your hand with your ear, resting your head on his chest as you try to at least hear his heartbeat.

Thump thump, thump thump, thump thump.

It's faint but you can hear it... and it's beating quite fast for a vampire. You've heard that vampires have a slower heart rate than everyone else's and right now, you'd say his heart is beating pretty fast, just slightly above an average human's. You can feel his breathing too, it's a bit laboured.

When you pull away to look back up at him, you're greeted by a blushing Heeseung who asks you with a small smile, "Get it?"

Is he trying to say that you make him nervous?

Shaking your head no at him, you're still a bit confused as to what he's trying to convey. At your response, he sighs, runs his hand through his hair and then whispers to you, "How am I supposed to calm down when you're kissing me?"

That's when the realisation hits you. "Oh..." you whisper, now getting it.

"Yeah..." he whispers back then lightly chuckles. Placing his hand on the door behind you a moment later, he leans into you and continues in a low voice, "You wanna know how you can calm me down?"

That low voice makes you feel weird things, you just can't resist entertaining him when he speaks like that. "What?" You ask, your voice also low.

"You can hug me." Raising an eyebrow at him, you hum for him to continue, a bit surprised at the answer. "I like hugs," he continues with a boyish smile.

"You want a hug?"

With the same smile, he softly says, "Yeah."

"If you say please, I'll give you one."

He wastes no time. "Please," he says with a bright smile and hopeful eyes.

How could you say no to him when he looks so cute? So you hug him, wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your head on his shoulder. He immediately hugs you back, his grip on you a bit tight but you don't mind, not when he feels so warm and comforting.

After a long moment of just hugging each other, you can't help but playfully ask, "Are you calm now?"

"I don't know," he starts. "Maybe you can check my pulse to find out?"

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he says that. You're not sure what he's hoping to get out of it — maybe he just wants your hands on his neck... or maybe he just likes to tease you. Whatever it is, you can't help but roll your eyes.

Suddenly, a fun idea pops up inside your head and you nonchalantly reply, "Okay."

Grabbing his face with both of your hands, you pull his head back to look at his neck. As your hands move to make him look up, your eyes take in every millimetre of his neck, specifically the spaces underneath his jawline, trying to find a pulse. Fortunately, it doesn't take you a long time.

"W-wait wait wait wait-" He gasps as your tongue probes at his pulse, his hands now moving to grip your shoulders. You only did it to tease him — you like it when he's flustered, but surprisingly, you can actually feel his pulse underneath your tongue. Intrigued, you pause your actions to count his heart rate, as weird and funny as that sounds.

You're not really surprised when you feel it beating rapidly. After a few seconds, he gives out a shaky exhale and says, "Is this a normal thing humans do?"

You chuckle at his words and then quickly bite down on the spot. He gives out a choked moan in response and further tightens his grip on your shoulder. "Aw, is baby flustered?" You tease him, unable to help yourself.

He can only whine your name as your tongue starts swirling around the same spot.

"You're so responsive... I love it," you whisper to him, your voice making him shiver. "And to think, I'm only playing with your neck. Is it that sensitive?"

As you start sucking on the small bit of skin in between your teeth, his jaw moves in an attempt to answer you but you don't hear his voice at all — he doesn't speak, not even when you're done giving him a hickey, not even when you're done giving him three. Pulling back, you take a moment to admire the small bruises on his neck but as time goes by and nothing changes, you begin to realise something.

"Why aren't they disappearing?" You comment, a bit alarmed.

However, Heeseung doesn't seem that concerned. He shrugs it off and replies with half-lidded eyes, "Ah, it's fine, it'll go away eventually."

"Is that normal?" You ask, still a bit hesitant.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry."

Deciding to take his word for it, you continue leaving hickeys on his neck. He hums in approval, his breathing hot and heavy and you eventually lose count of how many you actually gave him. When you pull back to look at his neck again, it's already half-covered with small bruises; all of them still bright red.

Just the sight of it makes something inside you snap and you can't help but ask him, "You don't mind me touching you right, Hee baby?"

With his head a bit dizzy, Heeseung struggles a bit to speak, "N-no, you can... you can touch me all you want."

"I can touch you anywhere?" You smirk, already knowing what you're going to do to him.

"Anywhere you want," he softly replies.

At his words, your hands waste no time moving to his torso, touching every part of it from his shoulders, then to his collarbones, then to his chest. His breath hitches when your hands move across his nipples but you don't stop to play with them — you continue moving your hands down to his abdomen. As you do so, you ask him, "I can touch you here?"

"Mhmm." His eyes automatically close as he says that, wanting to focus on your hands touching his body.

Seeing him relaxed and full of anticipation at the same time only spurs you on and so, you move one of your hands to squeeze his ass. He gasps and jumps in response, not expecting that to happen.

"What about here?" Your teasing tone only seems to make him melt.

"Y-yeah," he breathlessly says as he rests his head on your shoulder, his hands now gripping your waist.

Further teasing him, you slowly move your hand from his ass to grip his dick through his pants. "Even here?" You ask him with a raised eyebrow.

He can't stop himself from moaning and pushing back into your hand at the contact. But before he could reply, you're already talking while feeling him up, "Wow, you're already kinda hard. Does this turn you on, hm? Being groped like a whore?"

Giving out another moan, he starts grinding into your hand as if to show you how turned on he is. He doesn't say anything but you can practically guess what he's thinking right inside his head; feel it, feel how hard you make me. You push your hand against his dick harder and he hisses in response. "You like that? Being my whore? Letting me play with your dick however I want, whenever I want?"

"Yes," he moans. "Just use me."

"Now, now. Where are your manners?" You ask as your other hand starts playing with his left nipple through his shirt.

At first, he stays quiet for a while, not wanting to answer you but as your fingers pinch his nipple, he jumps and squeaks out, "Please!"

"Please what?" You can feel his dick getting harder through his pants and just to tease him further, you play with his tip, pressing and swirling your thumb against it over and over again.

With a groan, he relents surprisingly quickly, "Please use me how-however you want. I really need your hands on me, please."

"I'm already touching you though?"

"No..." He trails off with a hiss. "Can I please take off my pants?"

As you feign thinking, he hurriedly continues, "Please, I need to feel your hands on my dick, please? I'll do whatever you want, I'm your whore. Just please touch me, it feels really good. I need it so much. Please."

"Needy today, huh?" It's a bit surprising, honestly, you were expecting him to give more of a fight based on the last time you hooked up, but nevertheless, he's still cute. Plus, it makes your job easier.

In response, he just hums, simply agreeing with whatever you're saying without a second thought. Satisfied with his pleas and answers, you tell him that he can take his pants off and he quickly does so, his movements hurried and sloppy, desperate to get it off as quick as he can. Once his pants are discarded on the floor like a metre away, you pull him into you by gripping his hips and then you pin him to the door right behind you.

Immediately, he leans against it and his hands go to grip your waist again but you quickly grab his wrists and pin them right beside his head. Leaning closer to his ear, you sternly tell him, "Keep your hands there, got it?"

He gulps and nods at your authoritative tone. You then take a good look at his dick since you didn't really get to last time — you notice that it's lanky, average girth, with a slight curve to the left and circumcised. It's also hard but that's already obvious. In a way, it suits him and you think it's pretty, just like him.

When you look back up at him, you can't help but smile at the shy expression he gives you. Whispering into his ear, you say, "You have such a pretty dick... but do you know how to use it?"

Biting his lip, he slowly shakes his head no. As your right hand go to unbutton his shirt, you continue, unable to mask the excitement in your voice, "Well that doesn't matter. I can always teach you how." You let your fingers brush along his shaft, your touch barely there as you continue, "And when you do learn, I might let you fuck me one day." The response he gives you is cute; he quickly nods his head and pleads with you. "Would you like that?"

"Yes," he gasps, trying his best to not buck his hips. "Please."

"Alright, baby." Finally deciding to give him what he wants and put him out of his misery, you spit on your hand and start stroking his dick. Your spit makes your hand move easily and after a few moments of stroking, he gives out a loud moan, throwing his head back when you suddenly squeeze his dick — hard.

"You want people to hear us again?" You teasingly comment.

He nods and replies, "Yes... wanna... let them know... how... good you make me... feel."

"How dirty." You can't stop your smile of fondness from appearing or the chuckle that comes right after.

"I'm... your whore... remember?" Despite being paired with gasps and moans, his remark still manages to come out playful.

"Go ahead then, baby." He whimpers as your hand starts stimulating his tip. "Let everyone know who's making you feel so good. Your voice is too pretty for you to be quiet anyway."

Your right hand finally finishes unbuttoning his shirt. Without wasting any second, you touch his bare skin, running your hand all over his torso. His body's response intrigues you; everywhere your fingers go, his skin beneath you twitches and you're just using your hands. Imagine using your mouth — luckily, you don't need to imagine since he's right there.

The sound of his moan is so loud this time that it almost echoes across the room if it weren't for the room having many carpets. And to think that all you did was lick his chest. Granted, you did pinch his nipple while tightly squeezing his balls as you do so but who cares? He's so fun to play with, you just want to keep him like this for hours... but unfortunately, you're pretty sure that class is about to start soon, which means many people walking through the hallways.

Thus, you pick up the pace, trying to get him to quickly reach his high. Your left hand quickly moves up and down his shaft, your right hand goes to fondle his balls and your mouth starts sucking on one of his nipples — you doubt he's going to last long since his body is so sensitive. And based on his constant moaning and twitching, you can tell that you're right.

As you continue, he suddenly speaks, "I... I can't get our first time out of my head. I-it's like- it's like you're... haunting me." He moans when you lightly bite down on his nipple, his hips accidentally bucking into your hand. "Every time I close my eyes... I remember it again... I see it vividly... and I... I want to do it again with you... Did you... put a love spell on me... or something?"

As he continues to talk, a small uneasy feeling makes itself known to you — the kind of feeling that makes you feel as if something is wrong. It makes you furrow your eyebrows in suspicion as to what it could possibly be... but as you look at the man in front of you, you quickly understand. Just one look at him and you can tell that he's not in his right state of mind and you're pretty sure that he's just blurting out whatever's coming to his mind at this time. You can't shake away the thought that whatever he's saying right now is too private. You don't believe you should hear this, at least, not right now.

Worrying that he might end up regretting whatever he's saying, you tell him, "Heeseung, I don't want to hear anything else come out of your mouth except those pretty sounds you make, okay?"

And just to be safe, you insert two of your fingers into his mouth. As your fingers press against his tongue, he hums in response, closing his mouth and then he starts sucking on them. His tongue swirls around your fingers as he looks at you with half-lidded eyes.

Your hand goes to abuse his tip, your thumb swirling the precum around and pressing down on it again and again while your other hand continues to keep his mouth busy. His body shakes at your actions and suddenly, he quickly pulls your hand away from his mouth to say something.

"I'm gonna cum, what if-"

"You can cum, Hee baby. Go on, cum for me. You can do that for me, right?" Your voice sounds so sweet that he just wants to do whatever you say.

"But it- it's gonna get messy..." he whines and trails off. Despite his worries, his hips start bucking uncontrollably into your hand, trying to catch his high anyway — he doesn't want to stop but a small part of his conscious brain still worries about how he'll clean up his mess.

"Don't worry, baby. We can clean it up," you reassure him. "Go on, be a good boy and cum for me. And keep your hands back up."

"Okay- I..." He puts his hands back up and sucks in a deep breath as he feels himself reaching his high. That conscious part of him from earlier disappears and now, he's almost chanting, "Thank you. Thank you thank you thank-"

The moment you start harshly sucking on his neck again, he's gone; with a loud and long moan, his hips thrust into your hand and streams of cum messily come out of him, getting all over your hand, onto your pants and even onto the floor. His body is shuddering and his eyes are rolled to the back of his head as your hand starts milking him for all he's got.

You coo at him, "Good boy, baby. Such a good boy for me."

"Please-" He squeaks, head thrown back against the door. You don't stop touching him though, not even when his streaks of cum stop coming out, not even when he starts uncontrollably trembling at every touch of your hand. One of your hands continues to quickly stroke his dick while the other fondles his balls, alternating from left and right. As you squeeze them, he gasps and whimpers your name.

"You're being such a good boy, baby... just taking whatever I give you." You start licking his chest, from his navel to his nipple. Heeseung shuts his eyes tight as his body continues to tremble against his will, his hands now in fists beside his head. As you play with his nipple, sucking on it and swirling your tongue around it, his back arches and he can't stop himself from thrusting in and out of your hand.

"You can cum for me one more time, right?"

He groans in response, nodding. "A-a... any... thiiing... f-for... y-you."

Letting go of his nipple to whisper in his ear, you say, "Right, you did say that you're my whore."

"Y-yes, yes, yes." He gasps.

So you continue touching and stimulating him until he cums again. Throughout it, he doesn't speak at all, only making pretty noises while his body trembles. It doesn't take long before he cums again. This time, it comes as a surprise — he didn't tell you that he's close. Perhaps he, himself didn't know that he was or maybe he wasn't paying attention, too busy being lost in his own bliss. Either way, based on his reaction, it seems that he's also surprised; he cums with a scream, his voice echoes throughout the room, his eyes tightly closed, and his hips stop moving but he's still trembling all over as another shot of his cum comes out of him.

So gorgeous.

You slow down your movements, not wanting to push him too much, until you eventually stop. Heeseung pants in front of you, looking helpless and blissed out.

"See, I knew you had it in you." As you slowly coax him back to reality, you slowly become aware of how uncomfortably wet your panties are. But you push that aside for now.

It takes him a moment to come back to reality and when he does, he still feels a bit dizzy. His hands go to grip your shoulder and waist for support and you hug him to soothe and comfort him, rubbing your hand on his back — the hand that's cleaner than the other. A moment later, he breathes out a soft thank you, feeling a bit spent.

"I'll... clean everything up," he breathlessly says while hugging you. You pat his head while his arms wrap themselves tightly around you.

"That's okay, baby. I have tissues in my bag. We'll clean it up together, yeah?"

He doesn't answer you and instead, asks for a kiss. Of course, you give it to him. How could you ever say no to this man? The kiss is unsurprisingly hot, heavy and messy, your tongues intertwine together just like your breaths. He moans into it and then pulls back to kiss your neck.

"Your turn?" He whispers into your neck, his breath hot against it. You close your eyes as he starts kissing and licking your neck, his tongue hot and wet swirling on a certain spot. You grab his shoulder as he continues, and then, a moment later, you feel his sharp fangs graze against your neck but before you could make sense of what's happening, he quickly pulls away, stopping himself.

"Sorry, can I-" He gives out a shaky breath. "I wanna... make you cum." He whispers out the last part. It was so soft that you almost didn’t hear it.

"You wanna make me cum?" You whisper back, your eyes still closed, now fully aware of the tension in between your legs.

"Yeah." His hands tenderly touch your body as he says that, going down from your shoulder to your breast and finally coming to rest on your waist.

"Sure."

He kisses you again but compared to your last few kisses, this one's short. Pulling away from you, he says, "We should- uh... change positions? Would it be easier for you?"

"Ah, yeah, okay." Despite your voice sounding nonchalant, your pussy throbs at the anticipation of finally getting the attention it craves. After you both change positions, with you now leaning against the wall and him in front of you, his hands go to unbutton your shirt and unhook your bra as he kisses you.

Gripping his hair, you pull him away from you — which earns you a moan. "Go fast, I think it's almost time for class."

"There's still tons of time," he reassures you. "Barely anyone has class in this building anyway. Don't worry."

Trying to reassure you, he gives you a smile and goes back to tenderly kissing your neck. It seems that there's a clash of wants — you just want to cum while he probably just wants to take his time with you. You're about to protest but his hands and mouth on your body make you change your mind, at least for now. With his hands kneading your breasts and his mouth slowly moving from your neck to your breasts, you give out a defeated sigh.

"Fine."

With a triumphant smile, he mumbles a thank you into your skin. His mouth is now sucking your left breast, his tongue swirling around your areola and the nub, making your pussy wetter by the second. The urge to touch your pussy grows as he continues his actions. One of his hands plays with your right breast while the other goes to unbutton your pants.

All of a sudden, he lightly bites down on your breast and you jump in response, unable to stop your moan from coming out. "Fuck, your mouth feels so good."

He moans too but his moan comes out muffled against your breast. After a while, your hand grips his hair and he hisses as you move his mouth to your other breast. "Keep going baby, you're doing so good. Such a good boy for me, aren't you?"

The praise only spurs him on, his movements now getting bolder. Wasting no time, he begins to kiss it and then lick it, until finally, he takes it into his mouth, harshly sucking on the mound. You hiss and arch your back in response. With your pants now on the ground, your legs start to feel cold but your core is still hot and wet, demanding attention.

Eventually, he finally moves on, leaving your breasts to kiss down to your navel. Every kiss he leaves you is tender yet hot against your skin, just like his hands on your body. Once he reaches your navel, he kneels down and as you let him put one of your legs over his shoulder, his face is now very close to your crotch. Even so, he still doesn't give your pussy any attention yet. Instead, he starts at your inner thighs, specifically the one on his shoulder, slowly licking up closer and closer to your heat as his hands continuously move up and down your thighs. He stops where your thigh meets your groin and starts taking a small bit of your skin into his mouth to suck and bite on it.

You let him leave a hickey there — it's not like you can't hide it anyway. After he's done, he pulls away to admire his mark on you with a small satisfied smile but just as you thought he'd finally start eating you out, he starts the same thing over again, except this time, on your other thigh. You groan, beginning to get frustrated.

He seems to find it amusing, given by the fact that you can feel him softly chuckling into your thigh as he kisses it. "Heeseung." Your stern yet breathless voice only makes him smirk.

"Hmm?"

"You're being a brat," you hiss at him.

Pulling away from your thigh, he looks up at you with a defiant smirk and coyly says, "I'm only taking my time."

But as he moves to continue his actions, your authoritative voice makes him pause and shiver. "Heeseung, I will literally slap you." You're in no mood to take things slow, you just want to cum. That's all you want — to finally release all this built-up tension in your pussy.

"Kinky," he mumbles with a pout. It's not because he doesn't like being slapped — it's actually something he's willing to try especially during sex as long as you like it, but he's just pouting because he didn't get to-

Giving a frustrated sigh, you say to him, "You can leave a hickey there after I cum, damn it."

His face lights up as you say that and his hand grips your thigh. "Promise?"

"Yes!" You hiss. "Now be a good boy and make me cum."

Wasting no time, he hums and nods at your command, moving his mouth to your clothed pussy. He buries his nose and mouth in your heat, you can't stop a moan from escaping at the contact. His mouth starts kissing you, over and over again as his nose bumps against your clit.

"Fuck," you mutter, your hands gripping his hair tighter as he starts licking a long strip. It's relieving honestly — your pussy finally getting the attention it so craves... but it's not enough. You want his mouth on you, without anything else in the way. Thus, you tell him to take it off and he hums, acknowledging your command... but after a while, your panties are still on and he hasn't made a move to remove it, he just keeps on slowly eating you out with a smirk. When you finally realise that he's doing this deliberately, you snap.

"Heeseung!" Your voice is louder than you expected. "Take them off, for fuck's sake." Then, as if your mouth is on auto-pilot, you continue, "Do you want me to fucking slap you, huh? Is that what you want? You want me to fucking snap, don't you? Want me to pin you down and fuck you till your brain doesn't work anymore?"

At your words, Heeseung feels a bit intimidated but he can't help but also feel turned on at the same time. He moans into you and as he pulls away to pull down your panties, you continue, "Finally starting to take me seriously, huh? You're such a fucking brat, I swear to God, Heeseung. You just want to get punished, don't you?"

"God, you're so wet," he moans into you when he finally buries his face into your pussy again, without your panties this time.

Finally feeling his mouth on your heat, you moan in relief, pushing his head closer to your pussy while leaning against the door. His tongue starts licking up all your juices while his nose continuously bumps against your clit. Then, he starts sucking it, causing you to arch your back. "Fuck. That's right baby, keep going," you say, your tone now way calmer than before.

He hums into you as he continues to eat you out just the way you like, swirling and pressing his tongue against your pussy, sucking it, slurping up all of your juices. Your free hand now goes to play with your breast, massaging it while stimulating your nipple at the same time. His cums smears on your breasts as you do so but you couldn't care less about being clean right now.

When he inserts his tongue into your core, you loudly moan, your hand squeezing your breast tightly. And as he continues, sliding his tongue in and out of you, your pussy starts tightening around it and you gasp, "Fuck, I'm getting close. Don't you dare stop, you little brat, you hear me? I know you're thinking about it."

Gripping his hair tightly, you grind his face into your pussy, using him like a toy as you keep up a steady rhythm. He doesn't mind, of course he doesn't. He did say that you can use him however you want. And to help you reach your high, his hand moves to stimulate your clit, rubbing it in circles.

Here it comes, the release you've been seeking; there's that familiar knot in your stomach and with the help of his mouth and hand, you finally reach your climax with a moan, cumming all over his face as you bask in your release. Heeseung continues eating you out throughout it, taking in all of your juices in his mouth, not letting a single drop escape. His movements grow slower as time goes by until he eventually stops and pulls away, only to leave that hickey he so wanted on your thigh.

By the time he's done, you've gained your consciousness back. Still breathing heavily, you caress his head and softly say, "Thanks."

He licks your thigh one last time and then gets up to kiss you, wrapping his arms around you in a hug while doing so. You let him, not really bothered by the taste of you in his mouth. But the kiss doesn't last long since you're still breathing heavily.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you," you say after pulling away from him.

"It's okay," he says, resting his forehead against yours, his breathing also still heavy. Your hands move to cup his face and with a swipe of your thumb, you collect your cum on his face and feed it back to him. His lips part when your thumb touches them, and he obediently sucks it without protest.

"Good boy," you praise.

You pull your thumb away from his mouth. As his arms unwrap themselves from you, you lean against the door and give out a heavy sigh. Looking back at him, you say, "We should clean ourselves up and get dressed."

With a nod, he agrees, going to get the tissues from your bag that was by the piano. When he comes back with it, you both clean up the mess you both made; first, you both clean yourselves — although Heeseung prefers to clean you more with his mouth than with the tissues, then, you clean the floor and the door that still had streaks of his cum on them, and finally, you clean your clothes.

It's when he buttons up his shirt, you notice something strange.

"The hickeys are still there," you mention, now alarmed again.

Heeseung also gets alarmed, quickly taking out his phone to see himself but then chuckles a second later when he sees how he looks through the screen. "Damn, I looked fucked up," he mumbles.

His hand grazes the still bright red bruises on his neck and his eyebrows furrow at them when he doesn't see them healing. He turns to you and asks, "Did you drink something?"

"What?" You question as your hands are buttoning your shirt.

"Did you drink a potion or something today?" He asks, still looking at himself through the screen, his eyes looking slightly dark.

You pause your actions as you try to remember.

Potion...

Oh!

You remember now. It was during Tuesday's alchemy class where Heeseung unfortunately wasn't there. You remember that your lecturer taught the class about a new potion. Apparently, it's a consumption potion which means it only works if you consume it and he so kindly let you drink some of it after he finished explaining its properties. The colour of it was a very rich shade of blue and it smelled like the ocean... but the taste was... unpleasant, to say the least.

His voice rings across your mind, "So what it does is that it drastically slows down someone's regeneration ability, not yours but anyone you touch. Use with caution, alright. Don't be killing anyone. That's against the law."

"Oh... yeah, yeah I did. During alchemy class yesterday," you say, continuing to get dressed.

"Was it blue?" He puts his phone back in his pocket and continues buttoning his shirt.

"Yeah."

"Ah... no wonder."

You expect him to continue speaking but instead, he keeps quiet and simply tries to smooth out the wrinkles on his shirt. Eventually, you ask him a question that's on your mind, hoping that he's not annoyed or angry at you for leaving too many obvious hickeys on his neck. "But what are you gonna do?"

Please don't be angry at me.

"Oh, for these?" He shows you his neck, tapping the bruises on it. Then, with a smirk, he continues, "I'll keep them. Thanks."

"Are you sure?" You stare at him, surprised at his response.

Nodding, he reassures you, "Yeah, It's no problem. It'll go away eventually."

For the second time today, you decide to take his word for it. However, you can't help but wonder how long the potion's effect will last — maybe a couple of days? Hopefully not.

When you both finally finish making yourselves look presentable again, the comfortable silence you both share suddenly turns tense and awkward. You're unsure why but the reason makes itself known to you as you make your way to grab your bag.

Heeseung calls out your name. He sounds a bit nervous as he softly asks you, "What are we?"

Grabbing your bag, you think about it for a couple of seconds. "Hm, I guess... friends with benefits?"

"Oh..." He slowly nods, looking down at the floor.

"Unless you don't want that. This can be a one-time thing if you want."

"Nono, I-" He quickly says. "I just..." Taking a deep breath, he brings his head up to make eye contact with you and continues, his voice soft and a bit unsure, "I want something more..."

You look at him as soon as you hear that; he stands there, still near the door, with his posture straight and his face serious as he looks at you. "What?" You can't help but say.

Gathering all his courage, he nods to himself and continues, "I want to date you."

Surprise is the only word that describes how you feel right now. Never in a million years would you ever think that someone here actually likes you, much less want to date you. You've never even thought about dating a supernatural before either. And although you do like Heeseung... you're still unsure if you like him more than just a friend or not. Unsure of how to reply to his sudden confession, you end up just staring at him.

At your lack of response, his cheeks begin to turn pink again and says in a shaky voice, "If that's... a bit too much then it's alright." He gives you a reassuring smile, hoping that you don't feel pressured to reciprocate his feelings. "I don't mind just being friends with you."

"Heeseung, I'm sorry, I'm not too sure," you begin. "I mean, you're the only person who's been kind to me here. I'm not sure if I like you that way... and I wouldn't want you to fall in love with me, only for me to realise later that I never really liked you more than a friend in the first place."

Silence fills the air again as he takes in your words.

"Would you... give me a chance, at least?" He finally says. "Like at least let me take you on a date? Please?" As he looks at you with such cute and innocent eyes, you find yourself smiling at him. "I can show you the world if you want..." and ever so softly, he says his next sentence, "If you promise to show me yours."

His voice sounds melodious as he says that — you could hear the genuineness and hopefulness in his voice. And as you both stand there, just staring at each other, you begin to think to yourself; why not?

"Where would you take me?"

His face immediately lights up as you say that and you can't help but laugh at his cuteness.

"Anywhere you want," he replies with a bright smile, the kind of smile that could make the whole world stop and stare.

"Okay," you softly say, walking closer to him and giving him your hand.

For the first time in your life, you find yourself feeling excited about leaving your dorm, you find yourself anticipating to explore the world that you were so hesitant to get to know. It's as if your worries about laying low suddenly don't exist. And even though you're not really dating, you still can't stop the wide smile on your face as he meets you halfway, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together.

"Thank you," he whispers, bringing your hand to his lips to place a soft kiss on it.

"Thank you," you reply.

"For what?" He looks at you with a smile, slightly confused at your words.

Many things — for being kind to you, for being your friend, for not judging you just because you're human, and honestly, many more. But what comes out of your mouth is a simple, "Not every human has the honour of having a potential vampire boyfriend."

His laugh is bright and rich, music to your ears. His eyes crinkle as he laughs and his smile is wide. Just the sight of him laughing wholeheartedly makes your heart feel full. When he finishes laughing, his demeanour changes a bit to a playful one, leaning closer to whisper in your ear with that low voice and that signature boyish smile, "I can be much more than a vampire boyfriend."

"I have no doubt about it," you say to him as you try to calm down your beating heart.

Grabbing your bag from you with his other hand, he says, "Let me walk you to your dorm."

"Okay."

As you both reach the door, you take a look back and scan the room, just to make sure that everything's as it should be. You look back at him when you're done; he has his hand on the door as he asks you, "Ready?"

Nodding at him, you let him open the door and walk you to your dorm, your hands entwine together the whole walk.

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #supernatural au #college au #enhypen hyung line #vampire #dom!reader #sub!enhypen #sub!idol #vampire!heeseung #heeseung smut #enha smut #heeseung hard hours #kpop smut

537 notes · View notes

predestinatos · 6 months

Text

inside me | CL16 ִ ۫ ּ 𓂅⋆ 🗝️.♡

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

pairing: charles leclerc × fem!reader

summary: feelings aren't something charles and you talk about. especially not when you're tipsy in a club bathroom. chapter 3 of an ongoing series.

tags: enemies to lovers, more jealous!charles, i never get tired of writing it, smut, sexual content, cursing, some progress in vulnerability sort of? not much, angsty-ish but soft? ending.

word count: 5.4k

📎⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ minors dni !! warnings & note underneath

warnings: smut, oral sex (male receiving), sort of rough sex, sexting, this is soo filthy, unprotected sex, creampie.

note: okay so! i got a bit carried away while writing this, clearly being so much bigger than usual, but it's to compensate for my 4-day absence which will surely delay the next chapter a bit!! thank you again so so so so!!!!! much for the good comments and support, it genuinely makes me very very happy. hope you like this one!

“Two more tequila shots, please” Oscar shouted to the bartender, the music muffling his voice and your thoughts.

The two glasses appeared before you, its content calling to your dizzy mind. Dropping the salt in your hand, you prepared for the countdown. Oscar looked flushed and giddy, already a bit tipsy, just like you. His cheeks were a soft pink and his eyes were constantly in a smiling expression, which spread itself to you. “A toast to a very good friendship” he said, laughing, as you clinked your cups against each other, licked the salt off of your hands, chugged the drink and placed lemon in your mouths.

Oscar and you had kept going out. You enjoyed each other’s company, talking to each other and overall just existing together. Of course, one of those nights you two had to have the talk you dreaded to have. Curiously, it was Oscar who started, his words spilling very fast and messily, although they could be condensed to a simple “I think we’re just friends.” You were totally okay with that. It simplified your life, and Oscar’s following proposal just made it even better. “That doesn’t mean we can’t… have fun together, though. If you’d like to.” And that was your relationship with him – purely a fun one, a jokingly flirtatious game where none of you had your hearts broken because there was nothing to break apart from a few glasses.

So, after many shots and funny faces at the taste were exchanged, here you were, dancing with him enthusiastically, your bodies jumping and touching and having fun.

You were surrounded by people you loved – Oscar, your friends, everybody at that club – and that loved each other in that moment. Your friends got along beautifully with Oscar, and you even saw some potential for deeper relationships with this one girl, so you were happy, insanely so. Except for one thing: the pair of eyes looking at you from you and your friends’ tables.

As much as you tried moving further away, enjoy yourself and drink away the burning hot sensation on the back of your head, you couldn’t. Charles’ gaze wouldn’t leave your body, filled with rhythm and loose, but contrastingly so tense from his eyes.

You knew Charles was coming. But you thought he would be calm about things, take them lightly and not care much, given the fact that you and him were in very weird territory. It was now hard to hide from your friends that something was going on – the snarky remarks had turned more like innuendos and inside jokes that made you blush, and there were only so many nights where, for some reason, only the two of you couldn’t make it. Apart from those two instances, your relationship with Charles hadn’t been physical again. Some texts were exchanged, sure, but neither of you knew what you were doing; you were ice skating on very thin grounds, which threatened to break at any given moment. It was a matter of who was going to take the hardest step.

“I’m pretty sure Leclerc is into you” Oscar started, laughing at something that wasn’t particularly funny were it not for the alcohol in your system. You laughed back, throwing your hands around his neck and letting your mind run through all the thoughts compressed in your head, all the sounds and sensations surrounding you. “You’re friends, why don’t you ask him?” you replied in his ear, hoping he would hear you, or maybe even guess what you were saying. Pulling away to look into his eyes, you saw him shaking his head in a negative motion, the tipsy smile in his pink lips “he would murder me if I even got remotely close to him.” You both bursted out laughing again, shrugging carelessly at the ridiculousness of it all. “No it’s just… he hasn’t stopped staring at us and I doubt it’s because he finds me attractive” the Australian continued, nodding his head towards where Charles was sitting. Unapologetically, you two stared at him, who also unapologetically refused to break eye contact. Holding a beer in his right hand, eyebrows furrowed and shirt sleever pulled up, he looked angry. Yet, he also looked attractive, his gaze dark and possessive, his left hand tense and his jeans hugging his legs perfectly. He raised his bottle towards the both of you as in a friendly excuse of a toast, or even recognition of your existence as something other than 2 nuisances. You nodded again in recognition, a peace treaty that was sure to be broken sooner than later.

As you turned around to keep dancing, you saw Oscar’s eyes widen in shock, amazement and amusement all at once. “What?” you asked, nervous. Before he could even answer, Charles was behind you, half yelling, half whispering, not to you, but to Oscar. “Can I borrow her for a second?”

In his drunkenness, but also his own enjoyment, he merely nodded gleefully, winking at you as Charles gripped your arm softly as if to assure you you were fine, or as fine as you could be in that moment.

The bathroom was tight. Very tight. Or maybe it was spacious but simply felt like it, when Charles was so close to you, his grip on your arm tight but not angry in the slightest. It also felt hot, burning and scalding, like being too close to the sun, yet you knew for sure they had AC and it was on. Releasing your arm, Charles pulled away from you only to lock the door of the bathroom.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, laughing drunkenly at the stupidity of it all. “You’re gonna drive a lot of people mad by doing that” you tell him while fixing your hair as best as you could. You notice his body stiffening at your words and how they mockingly leave your lips, and even though he is currently not close to you at all, you still feel him on every inch of your skin when he lowers his voice and says “you’re driving me mad.”

Perhaps because you were drunk, you giggled ironically. Not only was the situation frustrating to the point of laughing, it was clear you had the upper hand in this case, with Charles’ voice and expression finally showcasing more vulnerability than usual. “And why is that, Charlie?” you ask, keeping the mocking tone that was getting to him even more this time. With the question, you dared to walk closer to him slowly, not taking your eyes off of his face. His jaw tightened and he looked away, his brain seemingly as loud as the muffled music outside. For a few seconds, you remained like that, in silence, your defiance and his stubbornness fighting quietly. Upon his clear refusal to answer, all you could do was shrug, “that’s what I thought.” You start walking towards the door, but his tall frame stops you before you can get to it. You are, again, so close to him, feeling his scent, alcohol and expensive perfume, but not his touch, for his hands remain by his side. “I’m not going to stop you from leaving if you want,” he started, his jaw tense as he licked his lips. “Then answer me” you demanded.

It wasn’t even that big of a question, you just wanted to hear him admit that he was jealous, even though he had no right to be. You wanted to see where this conversation would go, if you could finally put an end to this game you two were playing, as painful as it was for you to end it. You knew deep down the reason why he didn’t answer was because that meant exactly that – it meant talking about feelings, about rules, about labels. And neither of you were ready to do that. You realized then that you were placing on him the weight of it, cowardice filling you even in drunkenness.

Running a hand through his hair frustratedly, he moved his feet to let you move towards the door, unblocking your passage. You suddenly felt cold, his frame not hovering yours anymore, and that gesture held more vulnerability than any other he had ever done in the past. So, because you were slightly drunk, or maybe in spite of it, you pulled him towards you and kissed him.

His whole body relaxed against you, letting out a frustrated and hungry breath. By now, his hands and lips felt familiar yet new all at once. Your heart raced as if it was all novelty, yet you knew it wasn’t, for you had been craving them for so long. The way he was kissing was new, however. It always seemed to be, every time you two met again, for he seemed to place more and more feeling and less and less thought into his kiss, his lips moving against yours in a needy, almost desperate way, much different from the previous arrogance he possessed.

He let out a breathy whimper against your lips, and you realized then how completely yours he was. You pulled even closer against you, his shirt collar feeling hard contrasting with his soft hands on your body, wrapping your legs around his waist as he placed you on the sink. The coldness of the sink causes you to hiss and then laugh to yourself amidst the kiss, to which he too lets out a soft chuckle.

“I’m serious, you do drive me mad” he suddenly said, bringing both of your thoughts back to that which you were trying to avoid. You looked down at the already visible bulge in his jeans, and your eyebrows raised before looking back up at him – “I can tell.”

Charles suddenly looked shy, not expecting your bluntness, and he looked away to compose himself. Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, he took a deep breath and placed his hand on your leg softly, to which you responded by biting your bottom lip and closing your eyes at the feeling. “You really want to talk about that?” he replied to your previous comment, his cockiness coming back as fast as it had disappeared upon realizing how turned on he made you feel by simple touches.

Feeling brave, playful, or overall crazy, you grabbed his other hand and brought it to your lips. You kissed each of his fingers carefully, not hiding your pleasured face as you felt his gaze darken at the sight of you. His grip on your thigh suddenly intensified, this time as an attempt to calm himself down, though it was clear he couldn’t do so successfully. Charles was already going absolutely insane over the view he had, but then you brought his hand to your cheek and placed his thumb on your open mouth. He inhaled sharply, in lustful anticipation, before you closed your lips around him and sucked his finger while looking up at him. “F-fuck… don’t do this to me” he breathed, his head cocked to the side, both desperate and demanding. You took his finger off of your mouth to reply, leaving your mouth smeared with saliva that he spread across your lips as you muttered “why not?”

With the question, he grabbed you by the waist and turned you around, your back pressed hard against him, feeling his heartbeat racing and his cock against you. His hand flew to your hair, pulling it so you could see yourself in the mirror, as the other went back to the position it was before, thumb pushing forcefully inside your mouth. “Look at yourself. You look so fucking hot. You can’t do this to me, not when I’m so so mad at you” he whispered in your ear, his breath sending shivers down your body, as he pushed himself against you harder, causing a moan to leave your lips. “What?” he mockingly asked, his eyes pierced on yours through the mirror, a dark smile spreading across his expression.

Everything Charles did hit you with a force a thousand times higher than anyone else. It was the years of accumulated tension that culminated in this incessant need for each other – and it didn’t seem to be fulfilled any time soon. So when Charles released his grip on your hair and removed his hand from your lips, you felt betrayed and disappointed, your underwear soaking wet but unsatisfied. “We’ve had enough fun for a night, you’re drunk” he said, tapping your shoulder carefully as if you were a child.

This sudden change in behavior managed to not only anger you, but also hurt you deeply. It felt like treason, of the highest sort – the way he suddenly seemed to care about your state actually, paradoxically, seemed like the meanest thing one could do in that situation.

“I was drunk the night in my house, too” you replied, your anger coming out of your voice and suffocating any attempts of the hurt from being noticeable. Charles merely closed him eyes softly, taking a deep breath. “We were both drunk. We were both impulsive” he said, opening his eyes and looking straight at you.

His words hit you like a punch in the stomach, making the music stop, at least in your ears, in your mind, in your body. You raised your eyebrows at him, and you wanted to scream, to yell at him, to hurt him back. And you knew the only way to do so was by doing the total opposite of what you felt like doing – “okay” – was the only word that escaped your lips as you made your way out of the bathroom, back into the noise, the drinks, the distractions.

You went home afterwards, your mind spinning and your body too exhausted to keep going. Oscar had dropped you off at home, already sober enough to drive (at least way more than you were), but not before listening to the whole story of What Is Going On Between You and Leclerc, his mouth hanging open during the whole journey. His goodbye was said through a kiss on the cheek and a “don’t show up to races with me anymore, I have to win!”, which made you laugh despite it all.

You now laid in bed, comfortable pyjamas on and too tired to take your makeup off despite the constant warnings from everyone that you should do so. You tried convincing yourself you’d do it later, knowing fully well the most probable scenario was you falling asleep just like that, but it didn’t matter. Your TV was on, something was playing in the background but you weren’t particularly watching it, for your head was still spinning.

The attention you weren’t paying at all was interrupted by your screen lighting up, which normally you would ignore, were it not for its content, and, more specifically, who had sent it.

Charles (Asshole): whre are you (3:12am) Charles (Asshole): cna we talk??? (3:12am)

You shouldn’t answer, in fact, you were tempted not to. However, his texts clearly revealed he was not sober in the slightest, and as much as you hated to admit it, you cared about him. Upon some minutes with your fingers hovering the keyboard on your screen, you replied.

You: home. pls call an uber (3:14am) Charles (Asshole): on my wya. i did. im not taht stupod (3:15am)

The wait seemed hours long. You sat there, before deciding to get some water for yourself, and also for him, who definitely needed it more than you did at this point. You checked how decent you looked in the mirror, and despite frowning a bit at the messy aspect of your comfortability, you decided it did not really matter given the state Charles appeared to be in.

Those suspicions were confirmed after a very badly typed “I’m outside” text, which you decoded well enough to open the door. You were greeted with Charles wearing a giddy smile, his eyes partly glossy and his cheeks red. He seemed unbelievably content, more than usual, and you knew it was because of the alcohol in his veins, his thoughts, his whole body. You stood aside to let him in, and without ceremony, he sprawled across your sofa. “Good memories in here” he started, his voice dragging, stumbling across some words, and finishing with silly giggles.

You merely rolled your eyes at him, despite how endearing he now appeared before you. Sitting next to him on the couch, you felt his head resting on your lap, which, surprisingly, did not ignite your need to protest. Instead, you instinctively caressed his hair, soothing him and yourself at the same time. He let soft murmurs escape his lips, and tried closing his eyes for brief moments. However, he quickly opened them, “God, it spins even more with my eyes closed” he said, bringing his hand to his brow.

“You should drink some water” you said, attentively. Charles looked up at you, his eyes shining with intoxicated passion, and his hand caressed your face softly. “You’re so pretty” was all he could say in reply to your suggestion, a reply which further confirmed the need for him to fulfill that task.

You carefully urged him to sit upright, which he did despite some protests, and brought the glass of water to his lips softly. You watched him gulp the liquid as it dribbled a bit from his chin towards his neck, and you shamefully looked away, images of other much different nights surfacing in your head.

You allowed yourself to look back upon hearing his satisfied “ah” and feeling the weight of the cup decreasing to its minimum. With this, you noticed his shirt unbuttoned, more than usual, and as he sat back, his chest almost fully exposed to you. Your eyebrows furrowed for a few seconds, and you bit hard, holding back whatever feeling was going through you, which you refused to name despite it all. He was drunk, you were not sober, you two had nothing, it was not the time.

You couldn’t help but make a comment though, “I see you didn’t let me ruin your fun” – you tried to joke, but it sounded more petty than you had intended. He looked towards his shirt, then back up at you, before letting out a loud laugh and running his hands through his hair. “Yeah, well, I wanted to take you off my mind. Clearly it didn’t work.”

There it was. The thin line you both didn’t want to cross. Frustratingly, the only times you were close to doing so had to be under the influence of alcohol, making it impossible to discern what is meant and what is blurted out. Because of this, you merely shrugged off a laugh, and remained in silence, looking down.

You felt and heard his body shifting closer to yours from behind, his hands making his way towards your shoulders and neck, massaging them softly. You let him, enjoying the feeling, needing it way more than you thought – either the massage itself or the simple feel of his touch, you couldn’t say. At first, his touch was light, almost hard to feel, like a soft breeze on your bare skin. However, slowly, his hands started applying more pressure, getting more greedy with their movements, as if consuming all of you.

His warm breath hit your neck and ears, the sensation causing your vision to completely blur. It impressed you, how despite being drunk, he seemed to know exactly what to do to push you to the edge. You turned your head back towards his and as is gaze fell on your lips, your heartbeat increased, signals travelling throughout your whole body.

Once again that night, you were aware of how you were the one who pulled Charles towards you, relieving him of the need he had for you like this – not merely with touches, but with a ravenous control and hunger, completely at his display. However, you pulled away, your mind stable enough to know what you were doing – if he already thought you drove him mad, he had no clue what was coming.

His confused expression met your suppressed smirk, and before he could protest, or at least question you, you spoke. “You’re drunk. Don’t want to be impulsive,” and with that, you got up and quickly went to your room, coming back with a sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants, which you threw on the sofa. “You can sleep here. Those are Oscar’s,” you were aware you didn’t have to say that, but at that point you realized there were no rules to this game anymore – everything counted. “Goodnight”

You turned away, leaving Charles processing what had happened in those minutes, how things shifted so fast. You felt satisfied with the control you had over him, the payback for what he had done, yet you couldn’t deny the frustration only increased as well. It took so much of you to pull away, to not give yourself up completely to him, especially when you knew how good he felt and how much he wanted you.

You sat in bed and turned on the TV once again, trying to drown the pulsating feeling in your core. It was hard to concentrate, knowing Charles was one door away, his warm body so ready to take you. The images running through your mind left you desperate, and you decided to take matters into your own hands – literally.

You slipped a hand down your stomach, inside your shorts, and touched yourself lightly through your underwear. You were embarrassingly wet, and so sensitive that as soon as your hand found its way between your legs, you left out a small moan. You knew it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear, yet you brought the other hand to your mouth impulsively and timidly.

As if guessing, your phone lit up once again, with a couple of texts that left you speechless.

Charles (Asshole): im tryign my best not to go there adn ruin you (4:02am) Charles (Asshole): but youre making it so hard fro me (4:02am)

You couldn’t move – at least, not anything but your hand, drowned between your legs, frantically moving in unconscious and needy desire. You simply stared at the text, biting your lip to prevent any noise from coming out of. As you stared at it, you saw the three dots that told you he was typing more. Your eyes flew to the door, as if you could see through it towards the living room, where Charles was lying, typing these messages to you. The thought of him behind that door got you lightheaded, feeling utterly drunk again.

Charles (Asshole): i know youore reading these (4:04am) Charles (Asshole): if you want me to, ill sotp (4:04am)

Upon that last text, which wasn’t a threat in the slightest but which you interpreted as such, given the urgency in which you needed him to continue, your hand flew to your phone, immediately typing a response.

You: dont stop (4:05am)

It was hard, typing with only one hand, the other occupied trying to replicate Charles’ own touch, and to make matters worse, you couldn’t think straight. Typing those simple words took more time than you cared to admit or wanted, and you knew he wasn’t dumb to not have realized that. That simple request you made boosted his confidence to reply in a manner that immediately hinted that he knew what to do, that he now felt like he had free reign.

Charles (Asshole): why not? (4:05am)

You couldn’t see him, yet you knew this question wasn’t innocent, you knew he was on the other side completely pleased with himself, a smile sprawled across his pink lips.

Charles (Asshole): asnwer me princess (4:06am)

The nickname, even when used to get under your skin – or maybe because of it – set you over the edge completely. You had been holding your composure for so long that this simple word made you whimper, this time loud enough to know he had heard it.

Charles (Asshole): fuck that was so hot (4:06am) Charles (Asshole): i want you so bad (4:07am)

You were now filled with ecstasy, your walls begging for him to fill you, your head swimming in overwhelming arousal. So, you decided to do what you were meant to do since you first placed your lips on his: keep playing.

You: prove it (4:08am) You: i dare you (4:08am)

That text was all it took for Charles to completely unleash himself, getting up from the sofa and moving towards your bedroom, opening the door with urgency, finding your body outlined by the television lights.

He had changed, somewhere in between your trip to your room and his first text, but only partially – he stood, shirtless, before you, standing at the feet of the bed as you looked up at him, your face leveling his waist area.

You licked your lips instinctively, and for a moment time stood still between him and you, his chest rising and falling deeply, his muscles tense with need. Charles broke that spell by placing his index finger carefully on your chin, raising your gaze towards his and stilling it there. You swallowed dry, lustfully. “Show me what you were doing before I came in” he demanded, roughly this time. In fact, his hand remained there, forbidding you from breaking eye contact, as you lifted your arm and brough it downward, back between your legs. “Were you thinking about me?” he asked, voice growing deeper, more imperious. You nodded, as best as you could with the pressure of his hand on your face, now carelessly holding all of you in it. “Use your words” Charles continued, his erection visible, directly in front of you, so desperate, so conflicting with how he seemed so composed and dominant. “Yes” you replied. Yet, this did not satisfy him in the slightest. His grip on you tightened, and a tsk escaped his lips as he shook his head negatively.

Your hand started moving faster, one finger now dipping inside you, which Charles did not fail to notice, but pretended to be unaffected by. Without warning, he pulled down his sweatpants, followed by his boxers, just enough to expose his erection fully to you. Letting go of your face with violent affection, he now gripped your hair as he held his cock in front of you. “Let’s give those pretty lips some other use since you don’t want to talk” he whispered, his tip now caressing your lips. “Open, princess” his tone was commanding, completely new yet so dangerously arousing. You promptly obeyed, shocked yet completely vulnerable before his own desire.

At first, Charles merely played with you, frustrating your desire to have him in his mouth, despite the fact that it frustrated him in the process as well. His grip on your hair got tighter and tighter, as this teasing game was clearly driving him insane. In a swift and quick movement, he placed himself fully inside your mouth, the warmth and wetness causing his body to shudder completely. You swallowed around him, feeling his desperate push to take more of him in. As you removed your hand from in between your legs to hold yourself on his thighs for support, he grabbed it, bringing it back to where it was. “Don’t fucking stop” he growled, almost incoherently. Having him fully inside your mouth, your nose so close to his navel, and hearing his authoritarian tone, caused a cry to escape your lips. You could barely think, let alone speak, now two fingers buried inside your wetness.

Charles movements were rough as he fucked your mouth relentlessly, your name leaving his lips as if in a chant, as you kept holding his gaze. “Tu es tellement doué pour ça, putain” French once again escaping his lips, giving away his lack of self control, as he unleashed himself completely to his desire. You couldn’t help but moan, your eyes teary with the pleasurable strength he was using with you, and you felt yourself close to coming.

Charles himself was close, but did not allow himself – nor you – to continue. Pulling out of you quickly, leaving saliva all over your now darkened and swollen lips, he did not hesitate to push you down on your bed, climbing on top of your body.

Impatiently, he pulled your pajama shorts and underwear off, whilst you pulled your shirt above your head, completely bared to him. Harshly and lusciously, Charles slammed two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out to prepare you for him. “So ready for me, fuck” he whispered, more to himself than for you, yet not caring if you heard it.

His already sweaty body shone in the near darkness of the room, satisfaction spread across his focused expression as he saw how your body yearned for his. Removing his fingers from inside you and placing himself between your legs, he pushed in inside you, his hardness filling you up completely. Your back arched instantly with bliss as your legs wrapped around him in an attempt to feel him even closer, as if such was possible. You were trembling from his scent, his breath and the sounds of your bodies on each other. His movements were fervorous and electric, a fast pace which burnt your vision and set your body aflame.

“Charles” your voice begged, as he continued his movements. Your voice worked on him as a reminder of how mad he was when it came to you, how much he needed to take his desire out on you, his jealousy released with each thrust. “Does anyone fuck you as good as me?” he asked, eyes closing slowly from the amount of pleasure he was feeling. You let out a crying “no” as he grunted, his face now buried in your neck, biting it hard.

A crazy thought crossed his mind, one which was more common than he could admit, one that he thought about frequently in the darkness of his room or even when he was trying to distract himself with anyone else – the thought of filling you up, claiming you as his. This was enough for him to be close, as your moans filled the thick air, and he felt so good inside you, enough to feel intoxicated by it.

“You’re mine” Charles let out, incapable of containing himself. His words caused your whole body to convulse with shockwaves of pleasure as you repeated “I’m yours” into his lips, his neck, your nails drawing patterns on his back. His hisses of pain and pleasure revealed how close he was himself, and he positioned himself in order to be able to look at your satisfied and sensitive expression of complete bliss. Charles erupted inside you with a final thrust that made you see fireworks, as the thickness of the air reached an all time high.

After a few seconds of chests rising and falling, breaths being caught and thoughts becoming clearer, Charles pulled himself out of you and laid next to you in your bed, grabbing the remote as he caressed your arm softly.

That movement, the familiarity and comfort of it, how different it was from the uncertainty of what you two were, to the nature of your ‘relationship’, to you still filled with his cum, suddenly made you want to cry.

You wished he would leave, complete the final act so you can repeat it soon, so things didn’t get complicated, complex and hard for you to do anything about. The frustration was enough for you to get up with a “I’m going to take a bath” in a tone he recognized – somehow – as unlike you.

Getting up from his seat, he followed you into the bathroom, where you stepped into the shower and turned the water on, ignoring his presence completely. You kept focusing on the water running down your body, how it resembled his own touch but not as fulfilling, as pleasurable. The sound of the water running incessantly calmed your thoughts, enough so that you could barely hear him come in the shower himself, turning you around so you could face him.

His expression was tender but nervous, aware of something floating along with the vapor of the warm water, fogging the mirror. Yet, he pulled him to you in an embrace in which you two remained for long, longer than maybe it was supposed to, longer than for it to be considered normal. Pulling away, his lips fell onto yours gently, in a kiss that possessed more words than both of you cared to admit.

You knew, then, that was all he could give you in that moment. And you did not know how to feel about that.

@cmleitora @marialovesf1 @champagneholland

#charles leclerc #formula 1 #f1 fandom #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1blr #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader

588 notes · View notes

sink-me-in-your-ocean · 2 months

Text

The Light Over the Darkness

Lucifer Morningstar x Lilith!fem!reader

WC: ~5300

A/N: @endhisbloodlineinmyesophagus thank you for reading this first. And no thank you for getting me obsessed with a new fictional idiot.

Content warnings: fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, praise kink (if you squint and tilt your head). 18+ only. Minors DNI.

NSFW below the cut.

It is a gorgeous day in the Garden. Though, every day is a gorgeous day. Every single day is perfect beyond comparison. It would be even better if your companion did not exist.

You went off on your own again, wholly unwilling to submit to Adam’s irritating daily routine of assigning uninspiring names to all of the things and creatures. Or - even worse - the non-routine version of simply lounging about lazily. This was your only course of action. You wandered far off into the Garden, and just as daylight began to break over the horizon, a sound caressed your ear in the lightest touch.

In the distance, you heard a voice. It sang a melancholy tune so far from the triumphant trumpet sound of heavenly melody you’d heard before. It was like a dream.

No, not a dream. This was a voice emitting an enticing tune you couldn’t resist. It called to you, pulled your very heartstrings. Your brows knit together in concern.

You must find this beautifully tragic voice.

You strolled further through the Garden, clinging close to an idle river. As the voice drew closer, you stepped along a fallen tree that cast itself as a bridge over the river. You made it across and walked into the line of trees posing as guard to what lies beyond. Past several rows of thick trees there was a clearing, open and spacious, and filled with wildflowers.

Wildflowers and the most beautiful creature you had ever seen.

Lucifer was lonely, although not any more lonely than he had felt in Heaven. His brothers and sisters never accepted his way of thinking and there was no chance of him and his Father ever seeing eye to eye.

He had purposefully gone to a most remote corner of the Garden, knowing his father would do something drastic again if he found him interacting with his two perfect human pets.

Lucifer sighed, closing his eyes and singing how he felt. The agony in his chest flowed out and he felt slightly better. He figured that was as good as it would ever get.

Until he turned over his shoulder upon hearing a snap of a twig, and he saw her.

The being attached to the - now silent - voice turned towards you and your breath caught in your chest. His face was beautiful, pale as the brightest cloud in the sky, with eyes that shone golden like the sun. His hair was the color of the very light itself, gorgeous and silken.

He wore strange, white billowing coverings, and something nagged in the back of your head at the lack of your own cover.

“Are you alright?” You chastised yourself for the tremor in your voice, but you couldn’t help it, your communication skills were lacking. Adam wasn’t a conversationalist in the slightest and the times you did speak to him left much to be desired.

“No, no I-I’m not.”

“What happened?” Your gaze snagged on the red pigment on his back, his covering gaped open - torn and bloody. You started approaching him before realizing you were moving, then you stalled out of apprehension.

“I was evicted from my place in Heaven. I am… I was… an angel. Now I’m here in the Garden, though I surmise I’ll do something to get myself kicked out of here before long too.” You had never known someone to sound so utterly defeated and broken.

You walked further towards the angel. “The blood. You’re hurt.” You shook your head, realizing you were quite literally just stating the obvious.

“Oh, this?” He gestured to his back and you nodded, continuing to draw nearer. “He took my wings. I can’t ever go home without them.” His eyes met yours, and concern colored his expression, “But don’t worry about me, the bleeding stopped, and it doesn’t hurt anymore. Well, at least not physically.”

The pity you felt for the creature grabbed your heart, wrenching it tightly within its grasp. You were about a handful of steps away from him now, and you stopped, leaving him his space as you changed the subject. Continuing to ask him personal questions felt too intimate and wrong. “Your song, it sounded beautiful.”

The sigh he let out was almost musical, “I was simply expelling the ache from my chest.”

“I see.” Your expression softened. “If you ever sang when you were joyful, I suppose it could move the very mountains.”

His demeanor changed, he tried to hide it by looking down, but you saw the smile on his face. He shook his head and raised a brow at you, “Aren’t you supposed to be, I don’t know, with a certain someone?”

“Who, Adam?” Your accompanying laugh was breathy and uncomfortable, “No, he, uh,” your tongue temporarily tangled itself, “he’s the worst.” The last three words were an admission of guilt, coming out like a tiny whisper.

His eyes widened exponentially. “He’s the worst?” He began to cross the last bit of distance between the two of you, ending up a step away.

“The worst.” You reply, feeling a weight lifting off your chest with the confession.

“Hm.” There was a glint in his eye, something was inside him waiting to get out, you could sense it. “Would you like to spend your time with me today?”

The question left you temporarily silent, then you composed yourself.

“With a fallen angel?” You paused in faux contemplation, he watched you closely, his eyes begging for an answer, “Yes.”

Relief covered his face, “Take my hand.”

“Okay.”

He led you through the flower field and back to the edge of the river you had crossed. He walked with you at a leisurely pace as the river carried along beside you, flowing downstream.

The water rushed louder and louder as you continued down its serpentine path, and soon there was a drop off. Mist curled up from the edge and you followed the flow of water with your gaze.

A glorious waterfall cascaded down the cliff side. Luscious greenery and florals edged the water - a soft border contrasting the roaring of water.

The spray of water made a strange coloring appear seemingly out of thin air.

“A rainbow.” He offered in explanation, following your line of sight.

You looked at him, the happiness that filled your soul at that very moment overshadowed anything you had previously felt in your life thus far. Even the day you discovered the taste of ripe peaches.

His smile was brighter than the morning sun cresting the horizon. It was warmer than the sun too, you felt it skin deep.

The rest of the day continued in a similar fashion, with him guiding you to new sights and sounds and life. It excited you, enticed you. It made you feel almost like light itself, like you were glowing in his presence.

You returned to Adam that night, for no other reason than you felt that was what you were supposed to do. As Adam fell asleep nearby, your thoughts were on Lucifer. His beauty, his ethereal grace. He captivated you with a mere look and you were helpless to resist his complete charm.

When he had spoken of the heavens, you were left with one question: Why?

Why would his brothers and sisters not stand by his side?

One final realization permeated your thoughts and settled in an ache within your heart as you succumbed to rest: How lonely it must be for him. A former angel. Now cursed to walk in the Garden without anyone like him. Doomed to be without his family for… forever.

A single tear slid silently down the side of your face as you stared up at the stars from your place on the cool ground. You didn’t know how long it took you to fall asleep that night, but once it took you, you were deep under.

You heard his voice in your dreams that night.

The next day you rose before dawn as you always did, though this time with a fuel hurtling you along you had never felt before. A giddiness tingled in your fingers and toes with every step as you retraced your steps from yesterday.

Days, then weeks passed in a manner just as your first day of meeting the fallen angel, sans the melancholy of his newly fallen status as he accustomed to life in the Garden.

His life with you.

He never brought up Adam again, not since your first meeting. In consideration, you didn't bring up his Father to him. It was an unspoken truce.

Lucifer took you everywhere you had not seen before, and he frequently hummed and fabricated sweet, alluring songs throughout the days. New creatures, new flowers and fruits of the trees. New feelings as well. Though that you figured was caused only by yourself, and you pushed it down, listening to him tell you about creation.

“He said, ‘Let there be light’ and I was here.” He paused, “Well, not here in the Garden here, but here. Alive. Existing.”

“So, you just floated up there somewhere?”

“Yes and no. It’s hard to explain. It feels impossible, actually.”

“If anyone can think of the words so eloquent as to describe something, it’s you, Lucifer.”

A pink color tinged his cheeks, and he looked down at the grass tangled beneath his feet. “You’ve got to stop saying things like that.”

“Have I made an offense? Oh, Lucifer, I only meant that you would be the most capable person to describe something so beautiful. You’re so beautiful so it must come easily to you to describe the beauty around you.”

His gaze timidly met yours. “You… you think I’m… beautiful?”

You felt compelled to say more than just a ‘yes’. “Of course. Lucifer, you’re the most beautiful thing that I have ever seen, or could ever dream of imagining.”

His cheeks reddened more. His golden eyes softened in a way that told you he had been waiting to hear those words for an eternity.

“Lucifer?” You took a shy step towards him.

“Yes?” He finally met your eyes fully, but took a step back until he was firmly against the bark of a willow tree.

You continued forward, propelled by a pull within your chest, until you were toe to toe with him. “Can I…” You searched his face. His soft, sweet face. “Can I do something?”

A slight smile lit up his face, brightening the space even under the dimmed canopy of the willow. His voice came out as a whisper. “Anything.”

Your hand brushed the light hair that had fallen between his eyes to the side. Your other hand touched his jaw, tracing along to the underside of his chin and tilting his face up. You angled your face slightly downward, eyes still locked on his, and leaned in. Then, you closed your eyes, letting your instinct guide you the last bit further.

Your lips met in a gentle kiss.

His apprehension and yours melted into the softness of the touch you shared. You pulled back for just a second, searching his face for reassurance. He responded by kissing you back, over and over and over again. His hands went to your face, as though he didn’t want to be apart from you for even a moment.

Your fingers entwined themselves in his silken hair and he did the same with yours.

The two of you didn’t part from each other’s hold until the sun had almost slipped away completely.

You barely had time to bathe in the stream before night fell around you. You missed his light.

The rest of the evening, even feeling the comfort of the fire made by Adam, you closed your eyes and your thoughts belonged to Lucifer. You watched Adam pass out unceremoniously and touched your fingers to your lips. The memory held there still tingled.

You felt something powerful surge within your middle. It was a deep hunger. An ache as sharp as a burr or a thorn. It dug into you, pulling and twisting within you. A thirst that could not be quenched by even the coldest stream water.

An urge within you begged to return to Lucifer tonight, but you knew you couldn’t. You needed to wait.

Wait and see.

See if he felt the same way when the sun gleamed upon you tomorrow.

The instant you saw Lucifer the next day, warmth traveled from your head to your toes.

You smiled at him and he beamed at you, holding out his hand for you to take. Your fingers intermingled with his and you let him lead you to a part of the Garden you hadn’t been to yet. The grass began to fade into dirt and small pebbles, as though this part of the world had been forgotten by the green.

“Where are you taking me?”

Lucifer reassured you with a grin, “To see something I discovered last night. It’s not much further.”

He led you to a cave entrance. It greeted you with open jaws, its mouth stretching far and wide, ingesting the light with a neverending pitch darkness.

You froze, your feet rooting themselves to the ground. You dropped his hand, placing your palm over your heart. “Lucifer, it’s dark in there. We’re not going inside, are we?”

He gave you one of those brighter-than-the-sun smiles again. “Don’t worry, we won’t be going far. It’ll be much lighter inside, I promise.”

You couldn’t so easily wipe the unsure expression from your face. He noticed.

“Take my hand. Please?” Lucifer extended his left hand to you. As you took it, the air around you cooled, bringing goosebumps to your arms, and you had a feeling that something was about to change.

You allowed him to lead you inside. The nervousness you had felt seemed to melt away with his soft hand enveloping yours. Once you were past the cave mouth, the darkness swallowed him and then you. You grounded yourself in the sounds of his feet and yours along the cave floor, which was covered with soft dirt and devoid of any sharp rocks.

“Lucifer?” The trepidation came flooding back as soon as his hand left yours. You quavered and the darkness drowned out your voice. “Lucifer?”

“This way, my dear.” His voice offered you a beacon of hope in the black void of the space. You thought you heard him lightly chuckle, the sound beckoning you, guiding you onward without form or shape.

Suddenly you saw a blue-green light. You approached it just as it faded out, leaving you in complete darkness again.

Your foot nudged something soft, then your other foot stepped into a puddle that glowed around your toes as the water rippled. You squinted and the color faded away once more.

A bright light made you wince, almost uncomfortably. Your hand covered your face to act as a shield.

“Here.” You heard Lucifer speak close by, and as your eyes adjusted, you realized he held a ball of warm, yellow light in his hand. You also realized that the soft thing laying next to your foot was his rumpled white covering.

Your mouth went dry at the sight of him. A tension wound its way into your chest. His pale shoulders, his trim waist, his…

“Watch this.” He said, lifting his palm up and the ball of light suspended itself in the air. Lucifer created another ball of light, then another, warming the cavern with soft light. When he was finished, he grinned at you, “Are you ready to see what I found?”

“Wait, that wasn’t what you wanted to show me? That was - I, I have no words, you just - you just made light with your hands.” The startlingly impressive feat had you staggering between words.

That satisfied smirk of his was enough to silence the entire world and every question in your mind. He shook his head from side to side. You could barely believe it, he had even more to show you. There was nothing left to say, so you answered his question with a resounding, “Yes.”

“Watch me.”

As if you could do anything else. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, you were entranced as you watched him step into the pool of water which you realized, connected to the puddle you were standing with one foot in already. It was shallow at this end and he waded further out.

A light blueish-greenish color swished with his every movement in the water. Lucifer paused, waist deep in the water. A sharp exhale ghosted between your lips as you tried not to focus on the small of his back. The color went away when he stood still, but came back when he dipped his hand in, bringing it under the water and then to the surface, letting the water drip down from his fingers and open palm.

You didn’t know if it was intrigue or the allure of Lucifer that guided you further forward, to be ankle-deep in the water, but you divert your attention to watching the color grow and fade around your feet. “Lucifer, what is that?”

“It’s bioluminescence.” He replied, and sunk down into the pool, his body now mostly shielded underneath the water.

“What is bioluminescence?”

He turned towards you with a look that said ‘I’m so glad you asked’, and explained in great detail what it is.

Your eyes were wide as you listened to him speak. Sure as it did before, the water sparkled to life within the ripple you made, with blue shimmering below your feet as you stepped in, the water encircling your ankles. You couldn’t help the contented smile that made its way onto your face. You also couldn't help but move closer to him, going back and forth between watching the colors fan out from around your calves, then knees, then thighs, and watching his mesmerizing expression as he shared his knowledge with you.

You stood next to him, where he sat with his head and shoulders well above the water, and you couldn’t resist touching him. Gingerly, your fingers brushed through his hair, bringing it out of his golden eyes again. He looked up at you as you spoke, “Lucifer, thank you for bringing me here. For sharing this with me.”

Even in the dim light, you could see his face turn the color of a rose, his expression becoming timid suddenly. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because you’re divine when you teach me new things.” You answered honestly, you didn’t know any better.

His eyes softened. “Will you join me? Please?”

“Yes.” You took his offered hand. The gesture was innocent - he was bracing you as you fully got in the water - but it made you feel a way that you couldn't name yet.

His hold on your hand tightened slightly and his other hand slid up your thigh as you lowered yourself in.

The two of you settled in the water, the blue fading out at the surface which sat at about mid-chest level.

You slowly moved your hands through the glowing water, when you broke the surface tension the glow ran in rivulets down your fingers and forearms. You repeated the action, mesmerized by the incredible color. Then, you flicked the surface of the water, sending a splash in Lucifer’s direction.

“Hey!” He exclaimed, returning fire by sending a tiny splash your way. “You’ll get my hair wet!”

“Oh sweet and wondrous Lucifer, I’d hate to ruin your majestic hair.” Your tone was saccharinely sardonic. You sent another splash of water his way.

“Stop that.” His gaze changed as he spoke. Something dark hid beneath his surface, and you wanted to find out what it was.

“Why?” You playfully splashed at him again, your body succumbing finally to the warm temperature of the water, relaxing in its embrace.

“When you do things like that, it makes me want to kiss you again.” His gaze drifted downward.

“When I do what, exactly?” You crawled towards him, to the shallower area. “Tease you? Or when I tell you how perfect you are?”

He just nodded, biting his lower lip. You knew it was in response to your praise. “May I kiss you again?” His words were soft, contrasted by the heat of his stare. He looked at your lips with a hunger that dwarfed the pangs you felt before a meal. This was a predatory gaze, but you gave in nonetheless.

Absolute certainly colored your voice. “Yes.”

With your permission, he leaned in, brushing a strand of hair away from your face with a gentleness that rivaled a feather’s touch. You stayed stock still as he closed his eyes and pressed his lips ever so softly to yours.

Lucifer pulled back slightly, and upon seeing your eyes still open, a question formed in his expression. He didn’t get to ask it before your lips were back on his.

You kissed him like you needed him more than breath in your lungs. Your whole body felt ignited by the action. You kissed him over and over, planting close-mouthed to open-mouthed kisses to his soft lips.

The kiss continued to deepen from there, and soon you were tasting him with your tongue. Your tongue led an exploration inside his mouth that made your head feel light and airy. His taste was intoxicating. And he was just as committed to discovering your mouth with his tongue in an even give and take.

Lucifer was the forbidden fruit, and you were too weak a woman to resist.

You were temptation incarnate, and he was too prideful to concede. Not when he had come this far. Not when he had already lost so much. He needed you more than anything.

You opened your eyes to be greeted by a comfortable darkness surrounding the two of you. “Lucifer? Your lights, they’re not glowing anymore.” Though this time, you were no longer afraid. The blueish shimmering in the water was brighter without the yellow lights. It was enough for you to see the shape of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the sparkle in his devilish eyes.

“I’m sorry, I guess I forgot about them when I was kissing you.” A tremulous breath left his lungs. “I could forget about the entire universe when I kiss you.”

“Then kiss me again.” The demand spoke itself before you could even think.

With the way he responded, you would have assumed he never intended to ask your permission. His kiss stole the breath from you, stole the thoughts from your mind. Every press of his lips to yours, every stroke of his tongue to yours, was shatteringly delicious. You could think of nothing except him. Him and a previously unknown need rapidly surfacing.

“Lucifer.” You felt a change happening in your body, a fire that started from the kindling of his kiss. Almost weightless in the water, your hands clung to his shoulders as you crawled into his lap and he sat back to welcome you. Your legs were bent on either side of him, your knees resting in the soft silt of the shallow pool.

You lowered yourself down to sit in his lap and almost moved back, jolted by his body’s reaction to yours. Something hard and thick pressed against your middle.

He pulled back, breaking a particularly heady kiss to offer an explanation you didn’t ask for. “This is how you make me feel.”

You understood. In that moment, your base instincts took over. His feeling was evident on the outside, while yours was purely internal.

At least, you thought your reaction to him was all internal, until he moved his hand from your waist. His hand moved slowly around the swell of your bottom to where your leg met your center.

“Lucifer,” you jerked slightly, nibbling his bottom lip, “that tickles.”

“I mean to please, not to tickle you, my sweet.”

You were about to ask him what he meant when his long fingers swiped along your center. A sound escaped your lips that sounded animalistic, almost a whine.

“I truly mean to please you.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “Tell me if you want me to stop at any time.”

You shifted in his hold, seeking his delectable fingers again. When you spoke your voice was low and demanding, “You’ve already stopped, and I want to feel that again.”

“Yes, my lady.” He nodded his head in reverence to you and his fingers found your center again. He parted your folds, rubbing the length of his fingers along your slit before brushing them against a part of you that sent a shockwave to your spine.

You jolted this time slightly, your eyebrows pulling upward in surprise at the foreign feeling.

He noted your reaction. “If you need me to slow down I will.”

“Don’t you dare.” Your lips found his again, the blueish glow of the water sloshing up between the two of you as you sought to be closer to him. You slightly rose back up on your knees to give him better access to your intimate flesh.

Lucifer continued his ministrations. He was only too happy to take advantage of your position. His fingers caressing your sex made you whine again. Then, he pressed one finger inside of you and you inhaled in a ragged gasp.

“Is this okay?” You barely registered his words as he languidly pumped his finger inside of you.

You nodded, delighting in the sensation his finger was providing, and delighting in him. Once you were used to the feeling you whispered, “More.”

He pressed a second finger inside you. Your body temporarily shuddered as it adapted to the intrusion.

You felt an ache eclipse your body, deep inside you, and your instincts told you you needed to be closer to him. In a way that two people could be joined together. His fingers continued to stroke you and he kissed you deeply again, tasting you, cherishing you.

“Lucifer,” you pulled back, lightheaded, a pleasurable feeling was building in your middle, but you needed more. “I -”

Your words failed you as he removed his fingers. You were about to protest when you felt his hardness between your legs. Your center was throbbing with need, and you felt fevered and frenzied without him. Your body craved him.

“I need you inside me, Lucifer.” You wiggled your hips, sloppily kissing his neck and up to his earlobe.

“Are you sure?” His voice was so dark and low.

“Yes.” Holding to his shoulders, you dragged your wet center along his length to punctuate your answer.

“How could I possibly resist you?” Lucifer’s expression was that of a man starved, and you were certain he meant to devour you. “Eyes on me, I want to see those beautiful eyes of yours as we do this.”

You obey him as you feel his hand reach between the two of you. Then you felt the tip of him. Right there. Right against your core. Just the tiniest movement and he would be inside you.

Greedily, you shifted your hips down slightly, never taking your eyes from his gaze. Unable to stop yourself from the all-consuming closeness you felt to Lucifer. Watching him, wanting him; all the while knowing there is no going back now. And yet, not wanting to miss a single moment. The sensations below and Lucifer - curse his name - drove you to this madness, this ecstasy. He pulled you down, his fingers digging into your waist.

There was a sharp pain as you felt yourself stretch to accommodate his length. A burning sensation that made you want to move in the opposite direction. Then, as soon as it came on, the pain subsided. It was replaced by a delicious, honeyed heat that speared through your middle as he gave you more and more. He moved slowly, holding you as delicately as he could.

You watched his lips change from a thin line of steely determination to an open-mouthed pant, a groan escaping from his throat. The two of you were finally hip to hip, as close as you could possibly be, with him hot and heavy and incredible inside you.

You couldn’t tell if it was you that was trembling or him. Maybe it was both. His grip on your hips tightened, drawing you up, your sensitive spot grazing the plane of his pelvis in a torturous motion.

“Open your eyes, my sweet, indulge me.” You didn’t realize you had closed them.

You obeyed his ask, “Oh, Lucifer.”

“How does it feel?”

“You feel - ah - better than anything,” you cried out as he snapped his hips to you, “What are you doing to me?”

“I’m acting on our desires, my sweet.” His breath stuttered, as though he was fighting something internally. “No one else will ever have you like this.”

“I’m yours, Lucifer, all yours.” Your sensitive spot grazed his pelvis again, making you gasp. “You’re perfect.” Your fingers tangled in his soft hair as you kissed him deeply, fervently.

He responded by groaning into your mouth, and when you broke the kiss to lay siege to the skin of his neck, he moaned breathily in your ear.

You were a quick learner. “Darling Lucifer, do you like it when I tell you that I’m yours?”

“Yes -” He hissed. His breath was rapid now, and he picked up his movements, meeting every thrust and guiding you with his hands on your hips.

You felt a buildup starting again in your center, picking up from where his fingers had left off earlier. The friction was driving you to a point of no return. A moan tore its way through your chest, reverberating off the cavern walls.

“Lucifer, I’m yours, all yours.” You cried out his name as he slipped one hand between the two of you, using his finger to gently apply pressure to that spot that made the edges of your vision cloud over.

His name was a litany of prayer as he thrust into you over and over while his finger sated your clit. You clung to him with your remaining strength as you felt your body collapsing under waves of pleasure. The sensation was enough to drown you, to pull you under, but his continued motions kept you afloat.

You gasped, whined, moaned for him, telling him with and without words how you felt. Your legs shook and your hands trembled as they went from his shoulders to around his neck, pulling him in so you were chest to chest. Your entire body felt like it was falling apart and being made whole simultaneously. Your release crashed over you in a multitude of waves.

“I’m yours, Lucifer.” You felt him still inside you, thrusting as deep as he could as he breathed raggedly, filling you with a deep, pulsating heat, a broken sound leaving his lips. He held you like that for a while, the two of you clinging to one another tightly. The rising and falling of your chests and shared breaths returning back to normal.

How could anything return back to normal after this?

With one hand you caressed his cheek, opening your eyes and seeing the weight of his expression, “Luci-”

“You meant that, didn’t you?” His eyes searched your face, looking for hints.

You didn’t need to confirm what he was asking. You knew. He knew the answer as well, but he sought reassurance. “I do. I’m yours.”

He sighed heavily, resting his forehead to yours.

You kissed him, savoring the feel of his lips against yours. “And you’re mine.”

#hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin lucifer #hazbin lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #lucifer smut #lucifer x reader #for ducks sake

209 notes · View notes