#and you know what!! she was right!! I should keep printing!!! this was so fun

[dogcollarpunk]

ALSO had a print workshop today with stencil printing and uhhhhh it fucked

[rafeandonlyrafe]

reserved chair

words: 10.9k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, college au, past car crash, anxiety/ptsd, shy!reader, virgin!reader, soft!rafe, fingering, female recieving oral, p in v sex, protected sex

you take a deep breath before pulling open the door, eyes scanning the lecture hall. despite being ten minutes early to class, most of the seats are already taken. you turn quickly towards the stairs, climbing them slower than your feet want to, desiring to speed up the stairs to stop being able to see everyone's eyes and just the back of their head.

you let out a second deep breath when you get to the top, only a few students in the back row. you walk until you're as far away as possible from any other students, sinking into your chair the second you're sat down. you allow yourself a moment to breathe before working on getting your stuff out, placing your head down to just focus on lessing your anxiety.

upon picking up your head, you swear everyone's eyes are on you. you glance around towards your fellow classmates, but they've almost all turned to stare at the back row, not even trying to hide looking at you.

“wh-what is it?” you whisper to the girl in front of you, the one closest who thankfully looks nice.

“that's rafe camerons seat.”

“who is rafe cameron?” you question. it's the first week of classes, how could he have already claimed a seat? 

the doors open before she can respond, and despite other students entering without anyone caring, everyone's attention shifts, his energy and presence entering the room before he does.

you instantly know that he must be rafe cameron. his eyes land on you before you can scurry to a different seat, trapping you in place, a slight smirk on his face as he casually makes his way up the stairs, and then down the aisle until he is hovering over you.

“is-is this your seat?” you manage to mumble out. “ill move.”

“nah, pretty girl, you stay right there.” rafe grabs the chair next to you, pulling it closer than the allotted distance between work areas before sitting down, so close you can practically feel his leg hovering close to yours, making you shrink even more in your seat.

you can feel his eyes staring at you, paying no mind to anyone else in the classroom, even as the professor enters.

“do you need a pencil?” you ask, reaching down to place your bag on your lap, knowing your voice just came out pathetically timid and weak.

“nope.” he hums, placing a laptop on the desk from a bag you didn't even realize he was carrying onto the table. you should have known he was the type to write notes on a laptop. you wish you had that kind of funds, but you have to head to the library every time you need to use a computer, already struggling just from the tuition alone.

you nod, keeping your head turned down as you get out your notebook, favorite mechanical pencil, and the syllabus you pre-printed out and highlighted.

“what's this?” rafe questions, reaching over to tap your finger, making your eyes widen at the touch, even though he just taps the bandaids around three of your fingers.

“oh! um…” you move quickly to hide your hand. “i write a lot. i get sores on my hand from holding my pencil if i don't bandage them.”

“shit.” rafe laughs. “that's intense.”

you're not sure if he's making fun of you, if he's mocking or sincere. “yeah.” you just whisper.

“what's your name?” he questions, head tilting to the side out of curiosity.

“y/n.” you mutter out. he's probably the first person you've introduced yourself to at college, even going as far as to manage the extra money to get a single dorm, knowing you'd need the privacy and silence to recover from the social interactions.

“im rafe. rafe cameron. where you from y/n?”

“norfolk.” you whisper your answer, your professor starting to introduce himself, but rafe keeps talking as if he isn't going over the syllabus, and for some reason the professor ignores him.

“ah, nice. im from the outer banks.” rafe nods. “you must be pretty smart to get into duke.”

“i guess.” you shrug. you know your test scores are impressive, and you had plenty of time to start dual enrollment since you were homeschooled for high school. it's why you're technically a freshmen in a class full of sophomores and juniors.

“whats your major?”

“general literature.” you shrug. at least thats your major for now, you are considering changing to research psychology, knowing you have to figure it out soon.

“good class for you then.” rafe chuckles, looking at the screen on the wall, words blown up large to show the name of the class LIT 290: SPECIAL TOPICS IN INTERNATIONAL LITERATURE AND CULTURE.

“what's your major?” you question, whispering while rafe talks at a normal volume. you wait for the professor to scold him, occasionally giving him angry glances, brows furrowed together, but the shushing never comes.

rafe shrugs. “just kinda taking classes for now. i guess im technically in government. gonna take over my dad's development company once i graduate and he retires.”

“oh, like real estate development?” you quirk your head to the side, half listening to him, half listening to the professor as you scribble down notes.

“yup. you've probably heard of the company.”

your brows furrow as you think, not sure why he's so confident about having heard of it before, it's not like you can really name any real estate- oh.

“rafe cameron. cameron enterprises.” you mumble, eyes widening.

“exactly right.” he smirks. “you stay in one of our dorms?”

you nod, you do in fact. there's several cameron sponsored dorms around campus, you're in east campus: cameron.

“i guess that explains a lot.” you take a deep sigh. no wonder everyone was staring at him, why the professor refuses to say anything to him, his family's company practically sponsors the entire school.

“ill let you focus now.” rafe sits forward, hands coming to his keyboard as the professor begins the actual lecture.

you furiously write, nervous to miss any information, not wanting to waste the scholarship money allowing you to take this class.

“y/n.” rafe says, making you jump slightly, forgetting he was next to you, so focused in paying attention to the professor.

“yeah?” you hum, putting your notebook into your bag as the professor ends class, reminding everyone to review the syllabus and get their reading done.

“sit there next week.” he says, tapping the table in front of you before standing, striding out of the class without a care in the world, people stopping in their tracks to let him pass.

--

you can hear their whispers and footsteps, breaking the silence of the evening as you sit on front of your window, desk pushed up close as you take notes, textbook opened up, the lamp on your desk switched on as the setting sun turns the sky a warm orange with hints of pink, making the fall colors in the campus trees looking even more red.

there's a knock on your door, making you jump as the pencil clatters to the floor. you expected the whispers and footsteps to pass. certainly they must be at the wrong room.

you consider staying silent, but want them to go away, not try to knock again thinking that their friend just didn't hear them.

“hi.” you smile as you open the door. “i think you have the wrong room.”

“no, we've got the right one.” you recognize one of the three girls as the girl in front of you in lit 209, the one who told you whose seat you were in.

“im angie. this is chelsea and veronica.” she gestures to the girls behind her. “we saw you talking to rafe. i… kinda overheard some of your conversation. chelsea is also from norfolk and im also studying literature. i thought we'd invite you out to join us at the dining hall.”

it takes you a second to realize what she's asking you. finding commonalities, inviting you out, basically asking you to be friends without the direct words.

“yeah.” you nod. “let me just grab my bag.” you step into your dorm to grab your bag off the book, double checking that your student id is inside to get into the dining hall. you shove your phone into your back pocket before stepping out, not letting your anxiety stop you from making friends, you need at least one person to confide in and hang out with.

“so, where did you graduate from?” chelsea asks, the one also from norfolk.

“oh, i was homeschooled.” you hate having to explain it, but the reason why you had to drop out of public school is the same reason your heart beat is skyrocketing as you head towards the elevator, palms sweating and nervously swallowing.

“oh, nice!” chelsea smiles. “i graduated from maury high.”

you're thankful it's not the high school you pulled out of, there's no way that she would have heard about you, about your intense anxiety after you were in a car crash, then sudden disappearance from school.

the conversation shifts to the other girls high schools, veronica telling a funny story from her graduation. you occasionally chime in, but the girls seem happy to keep the conversation flowing between each other as you head out of the dorm room and through the walkways to the dining hall.

the conversation doesn't shift until you until you're sitting down at a booth.

“so, rafe, huh?” chelsea asks.

“i don't know him.” you shake your head. “i just sat next to him and offered him a pencil, really, that's it.”

“you do know who his dad is right?”

you glance around the cafeteria, even that has signs of cameron enterprises sponsorship. “oh, i know.”

“that's why he goes here.” angie says. “he wouldn't have gotten in if it wasn't for his dad.”

“he's so hot, right?” veronica giggles before taking a bite of her pizza.

“yeah, is he even better up close?” chelsea turns to ask you.

you shrug. “i mean, i wasn't really paying attention.” it's a half truth. you absolutely were aware of how attractive rafe was, but you spent all of the lecture and most of the conversation trying to avoid looking at him for fear of eye contact.

“i heard he's such a bad boy. apparently he broke like five girls hearts last year because he was sleeping with them all at the same time.”

“oh, jeez.” you cringe. you should have guessed rafe was a player, but you also don't know the truth behind the rumors.

the conversation shifts from rafe to about other boys at the school, allowing you a moment to breathe and center yourself, calming down slightly. the girls make you feel comfortable enough that you finish dinner and bid them goodbye without a major anxiety attack, but the second you get back in your dorm, you collapse into the bed and pass out.

--

you stare at the seats, wondering if you really should sit in the same one. angie looks back at you with a gentle smile, mouthing a quick “sorry.” as there's already people sitting on either side of her.

you shake your head. it's fine, you tell yourself, and pull out the chair and sit down, right in the same spot you were at last week.

rafe walks in moments later, a real smile on his face when he sees you. you glance at him quickly before looking down, fiddling with your pencil and writing random gibberish until he's sat next to you.

“so i didn't scare you off?” rafe questions, setting his laptop down and fishing out his cord to charge it. you notice the outlet inset into the table is directly in front of you, rafe having to lean over into your personal space to plug it in.

“we can switch spots.” you blurt out, despite the cord being plenty long enough to reach.

“nah.” rafe shakes his head. “you look pretty in my seat.”

you're not sure how you looking pretty relates, and how you would look any different sitting in the opposite chair, but your face blushes and you stammer something intelligible, making rafe smirk.

“you're real cute, you know that right?”

“oh, i um- noooo.” you chuckle awkwardly.

“even cuter when i make your face all red like that.”

you don't say anything in response, not sure you can even form words as you reach to press your fingers over your cheeks, willing them to cool down.

“i got something for you.” rafe reaches into his bag. he pulls out his computer and then a second laptop, making your brows furrow as he sets it in front of you, along with a charger and bluetooth mouse.

“what is this?” you question. you’ve heard of loaner laptops through the school, but this brand is way too nice to be the one they’re handing out to dumb college kids to give back at the end of your semester.

“a laptop. for you.” rafe says, like it’s obvious.

“i-i can’t!” you shake your head as the professor begins his lecture. for once, you don’t even bother to pay attention as you pick up the laptop and move it back towards rafe. “i can’t afford it.” “it’s already paid for.” rafe places it back in front of you, opening it up. “the password is my name.” he smirks as the screen turns on, illuminating your face. 

“its too expensive, i really can’t accept this.” your hands go to the keyboard despite your words, typing in his name rafecameron. you click enter, the computer unlocking for you to a clean home screen.

“its pennies to me, really. i want you to have it.” he glances at your still bandaged fingers. “so you can stop wrapping your fingers.”

“i-i don’t know how to thank you.” you shake your head.

“oh,” rafe reaches back into his backpack. “i got this for you. its touchscreen.” he sets the pen for the computer next to the mouse. “in case you prefer to write over type, but please, try typing for the sake of your fingers.”

“thank you.” you smile at him, opening up a browser and logging into your email, quickly opening up google docs to take notes, attention turning only half to the professor, the other half of your mind stays focused on rafe smiling at you.

--

“how did i know i’d find you here?” the voice makes you jump. it’s strange to hear rafes voice outside of the lecture hall, even as the weeks have gone by and you’ve hung out occasionally with angie and the few friends you’ve made, you’ve never seen rafe outside of class.

“no one is ever here.” you look around the empty room. it’s a study room, technically met for literature majors, but you’re sure no one would say a word about rafe being inside.

“thats how i knew you’d be here.” he plops down on the seat across from you. 

“do you need help with your homework or something?” you ask. your professor assigned you an essay, maybe rafe is seeking out your help.

rafe lets out a scoff, looking at you with an exasperated expression. of course. you should have known he didn’t need to really try on his homework to get straight a’s.

“i want to take you on a date, come on.” rafe cocks his head toward the door.

“oh!” your eyebrows rise in surprise. sure, rafe has always been flirty before and after class, but you thought it was mostly out of teasing you, riling you up, not serious enough to actually ask you on a date.

“your choice. now or in two hours.” rafe glances at the clock on the wall.

“now is fine.” you also look at the clock. you don’t want to stay out too late, needing to get back in your dorm and work, and you also don’t want to end up at a party, it’s probably your worst nightmare to be surrounded by drunk college kids shouting and dancing.

“perfect.” rafe picks up your bag when you put your stuff away, slinging it over his shoulder as you follow behind him, having to pick your pace up to keep up with his long strides.

“taking you to dinner off campus.” rafe says, leading you out of the building and towards the parking lot. you freeze ups, eyes widening. rafe doesn’t realize you’ve stopped following him, stuck in place on the sidewalk, until he’s feet away from you.

“hey…” rafe says softly, approaching you carefully. “you alright?” “i-i-” you hate how much you’re stuttering, you can’t help it when the nerves take over and your hands start to shake. “i don’t like- um. i don’t like being a passenger.” just uttering the words make that night come back to you, you trusting your friend, getting into their car, only for them to roll it repeatedly, somehow all walking away, but the scars inside of you are mental ones.

“you can drive then.” rafe holds his keys up like an offering. “or we can eat dinner here, whatever you want.”

“im okay driving.” you trust only yourself. maybe someday you’ll learn to feel safe with someone driving you, but it took you weeks to get behind the wheel with even your mom, having to use calming techniques every time you’re on the road.

“perfect.” rafe stays pretty quiet, only making small comments about how to turn on his car (you’ve never been in a push to start before) and how to get to the restaurant. he doesn’t even turn on the radio, seeing how nervous you are, letting you concentrate fully on driving. you do feel better when you’re in control of the vehicle, but the fear of a rogue driver hitting you is always there.

“i want to tell you something, rafe.” you say shyly, now sat at your table at a nice restaurant, wishing you would have changed into something fancier, but rafe doesn’t seem to care, so you don’t either.

“okay.” he nods.

“i was in a car accident in high school. that’s why i don’t like being a passenger. thats why i have…” you take a deep breath. “so much anxiety.”

“hey.” he says softly, reaching across the table. “its okay. you don’t have to explain yourself to me. i like you just how you are.”

the comments angie and chelsea come to the front of your mind. “why do you even like me? everyone says you’re some sort of bad boy.” you don’t have to point out that rafe has only ever been nice to you, ridiculously kind and generous.

“when i walked into the classroom that first day and saw you sitting in my seat, looking at me like that…” rafe shakes his head. “you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen. i love that you’re shy. it’s cute, i swear.” “you like my anxiety?” you giggle, sure that no man could actually mean that.

“well, no.” rafe shakes his head, his eyes bright. “i like that you’re like a puzzle, waiting for me to solve.” “i-i don’t know what to say. im not mysterious or anything.” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“maybe not, but i want to figure out what makes you tick. how you like to be kissed, held…” rafe raises an eyebrow and you don't need him to say the next word as you're suddenly very interested in staring at your food.

“there's that blush i love so much.” rafe smiles. “you're so gorgeous.”

“there's like, way prettier girls than me at the college. i don't get your interest in me at all. awkward and… shy.” you shrug.

“don't sell yourself short.” rafe reaches across the table, squeezing your hand in his. “you're beautiful. plus, half the girls just want me for my dad's money, and the other half hate me for sleeping around last year.”

“yeah, i kinda heard about that.” you admit, trying to concentrate on your palm to keep it from getting sweaty. “angie told me you were sleeping with five girls at the same time.”

“they were all just hookups.” rafe shakes his head. “never went farther than that with any of them. it isn't like that with you.”

“well… it's nice to know you're serious about me.”

--

“hold your hand out.” rafe says, still sat in the same classroom, the rest of the students long gone, and with no other classes scheduled for the rest of the day, you feel like you could stay here with rafe all night.

you cup your hand and wait for whatever surprise, unsure how anything could beat the laptop he gifted you.

rafe unclips his gold chain from around his neck and drops it into your palm. “for you to wear. if you want of course.”

“is this the college equivalent of giving me your letterman jacket?” you giggle, perception of high school skewed towards idealized versions in books and movies since you missed out on most of the personal experience.

“i would love to call you my girl.” rafe smiles softly, so genuine it makes you almost want to lean forward and plant your lips on his.

“like… exclusively?” you wiggle the chain in your hand, feeling the weight shift around. certainly real gold.

“of course. i told you, im serious about you. i want you and only you, but im willing to move at your pace. if you're not ready yet, ill wait.”

you take a moment to think about it. weighing the pros and cons. con, you're inexperienced. pro, you really like rafe. con, rafe could get bored with you after a week. pro, you really like rafe. con, a boyfriend would distract from your schoolwork. pro, you really like rafe.

you hand the necklace back to rafe, watching the way his face falls, thinking it's a rejection, before you pull your hair up. “put it on for me?”

rafes smile is brighter than the sun as he strings the necklace around you, fingers gently teasing your skin, grazing against you anytime he can while he does the clip.

you smile back at rafe as you turn back towards him, feeling giddy. “so, what now?”

“what do you mean what now?” rafe chuckles. “now i kiss you.”

rafe leans in as your eyes widen, heartbeat skyrocketing as you suddenly shout out. “im a virgin!”

rafe sits back in surprise and confusion.

“im a virgin, ive never had a real boyfriend and ive never had a first kiss unless you count one that happened in second grade with a boy named lincoln on the playground-” you know you're rambling, so you're thankful when rafe cuts you off.

“that's okay.” rafe says. “i like that you're untouched. just means i need to do things right for all your firsts.”

you nod, not really understanding what he means, but knowing that you like the sound of it.

“as much as id love to lay you out on this table and wreck you-” your eyes widen at that very image. “your first time will not be in an empty classroom, and your first kiss definitely won't be either. are you free tomorrow night?”

“im… kinda free whenever.” you admit. you only have homework and studying, but you're willing to move those around for dates with rafe, as long as your grades don't slip.

“well, im about to make sure you are a very busy lady.”

--

rafe doesn't try to kiss you the following night. or the date a day later. or at your next class when you end up staying after again. you expect it to be that moment every time, but rafe keeps it slow, almost too slow.

he started with holding your hand. then wrapping his arm around his shoulder. he finally advanced to kissing you on the cheek, and while you appreciate his thoughtfulness, you're starting to go crazy.

“you're lost in thought.” rafe says, making you shake your head and refocus on him. “i just hope it's about me and not about your upcoming assignments.”

“it's always about you.” you smile. your grades are still perfect, you just spend all your study time working hard to complete everything perfectly and quickly to get back to rafe.

“just what i like to hear.” rafe is sat on the end of your dorm bed, twinkling fairy lights above your head as you just relax, both in casual clothes.

“do you think you could stay the night?” you blurt out before quickly going to explain yourself. “not to… have sex. but just to sleep in the same bed.”

“are you sure? you don't have to-”

“rafe!” you squeal. “i want this! i want you!”

rafes eyes widen at your outburst, probably the loudest he's ever heard your voice, before he dissolves into laughter. “ive been taking this too slow, haven't it?” rafe asks as you pout and nod.

“jesus, ive been trying so hard to hold back and not fuck it up, i ended up just fucking up in the other direction. im not used to caring about girls, or anyone, this much. im sorry, y/n. you dictate the pace, not me.”

“i want you to kiss me. tonight. and i want you to stay over and cuddle and hold me.” you allow the sudden rush of boldness to loosen your tongue.

“then that's what we will do.” rafe nods.

he doesn't kiss you immediately, he waits for the perfect moment. the lights are still on, now set to slowly fade in and out.

rafe is laying facing you, not touching you at all, but you can feel the presence, practically itching to reach out.

you're nervous, but you're not letting it stops you. as the lights dim again, your hear the movement on the bed, and then feel rafe move closer.

the second the lights begin to turn back on, rafe is on you, his lips pressed against yours. he doesn't let your first kiss be a simple peck as an arm rounds your back and pulls you into him. he leads the kiss, leaving you just to follow his movements and not stress about being perfect.

rafe slows the kiss down gradually until he pulls away, both of you taking a deep breath.

“that… was amazing.” you giggle, watching the way rafes eyes light up as you laugh. “oh my god! how have i been missing out on that?”

“wanna do it again?” 

“yes!”

rafe kisses you until you start to feel dizzy, having to remind yourself to breathe as he holds you close, but it's still not enough.

you sling a leg over his hips, attempting to pull your bodies flush together when rafe suddenly turns onto his back.

“i don't think you want to do that, baby.” 

“why- oh!” you're about to question the sudden change of attitude when you look down rafes body and see how your kissing has affected one particular part of his body.

“i can't help that you're really sexy, but we aren't doing this tonight in your college dorm. i need to lay you out and make you cum many times in a place where you can be as loud as you want.”

“should i… put on a tv show until it's gone then we can cuddle and sleep?” you offer, trying to ignore his words despite knowing your face is now beet red.

“i don't know if ill ever be fully soft when laying in bed with you, but that will definitely help.”

--

“you have to tell me everything.” angie says, a plate of fries pushed between you to share.

“oh my god he's just… such a gentleman, which i never expected just based off-” you wave your hands around. “everything.”

“that's good because i don't care who his dad is or how rich he is, if he was treating you bad id kick his ass.”

you let out a soft giggle. “i don't think he's gonna mess this up but if he does, ill remember that.”

you both groan as you glance at the clock. you can only spend so much time talking with your new friend when you're supposed to be studying.

“alright.” you pull out your textbook along with the laptop rafe gave you. rafecameron. you didn't even think about changing the password.

“how many words is this essay supposed to be again?” angie hums, also powering on her laptop.

“2,000.” you roll your eyes. “which is just so ridiculous you know the professor isn't reading everyone's.”

“he probably puts them into some ai grader shit.” angie agrees. you both quickly get to work, even getting a refill of fries. you've found that when you have a friend with you you prefer working in the dining area.

“hey baby, i figured you were down here.” rafe slides into the seat next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “how's the essay?”

“actually im pretty much done.” you shrug. you know you have a talent for writing, but its when the topic genuinely interests you. “just don't really know how to end it.”

“can i help?” rafe asks. you nod and angle the screen towards him, letting him read over the words.

“oh my god.” angie mouths to you, glancing between you and rafe.

you blush and duck your head, resting your shoulder against rafes as he reads, watching as he types out a couple sentences to finish off your conclusion paragraph.

“wait, shit, thats perfect.” you pull the laptop back close, checking the word count quickly to confirm you've hit your minimum amount.

“jeez, can you help me with mine too?” angie asks, her eyebrows furrowing together.

“ill read over it.” rafe shrugs. “afterall,” he looks to you. “y/ns friends are my friends.”

--

you gasp when you get back from your shower to find rafe laying in your bed. he immediately tosses aside his phone that he was mindlessly scrolling on.

“missed you.” rafe tugs on your hips as you step closer. your mouth presses against him, the kisses calming your anxiety rather than spiking it like you originally worried it would.

rafes hands stay on your hips as he pulls you down onto the bed, allowing you to fall forward against him, bouncing softly on the springy mattress.

“you're gonna end up missing me a lot over break.” you chuckle softly, knowing a week off is coming up soon.

“about that…” rafe flips so you're both on your sides, facing each other. “what's your plans? driving home to norfolk?”

“actually, i was just gonna stay here.” you shrug. “the college let's out of state kids stay in their dorms during the holiday breaks and i applied for special permission.”

“well, you won't need that.” rafe says. “that is, if you want to come to the outer banks with me.”

“oh- oh my god! yes.” you nod quickly. despite not living far away, you've never actually been to the area before, and you've grown used to rafes constant presence. you're not sure what a week would be like without him.

“my family is out of town until friday anyways, so we will have the place to ourselves for most of the time…” rafes hand moves to your lower back, tugging you in close to him. you understand the implication and despite everything, you only feel excitement and anticipation.

--

“here ya go.” rafe hands you his car keys. you never had to reiterate your need to be in control of any vehicle, rafe just went along with it without pushing.

“actually…” you swallow harshly. “you can drive.”

“baby.” a smile breaks out on rafes face as he talks softly, carefully helping you into the passenger seat, making sure to keep everything slow and relaxed.

“i trust you.” you tell rafe, pulling him in for a quick kiss. “just… don't speed.”

“i wouldn't even think about that.” rafe says, kissing your forehead. “ive got special cargo.”

you giggle and roll your eyes, surprised how corny rafe has become as you both fall further.

rafe seems to have a sense of when your anxiety spikes. he moves to the drivers seat and just stays there for a moment while you breathe, not even turning the car on until you give him a slight nod.

you can tell he's going the long way, turning around a couple side streets to avoid getting onto the highway home too soon.

“ill go this speed the whole way if that's what you need.” rafe says when he pauses at a stop sign.

“just a little more around the neighborhood and ill be fine.” you assure him. you reach over and lay a hand on rafes arm as he drives, the physical connection allowing you to take a deep breath.

when rafe eventually pulls onto the highway, you find yourself breathing regularly, mind racing through all the coping mechanisms the therapist who saw you after the car crash taught you.

“im… im actually doing okay.” you admit to rafe, leaning forward to turn the radio on but keeping the music turned downed low. “thank you.”

“im just glad you trust me.” rafe reaches over and squeezes your thigh before quickly putting both his hands back on the wheel. “it's a long drive for you to do solo.”

in truth it's not much longer than the drive from duke to norfolk, but you're glad that you can relax as the hour passes. 

everytime your mind wanders, or worry strikes about a crazed driver hitting you, you just look to rafe and allow yourself to breathe.

you even manage to lay your car seat back. 

rafe smiles over at you as he watches your eyes blinking slowly, recognizing the sure signs of sleep as you end up napping the rest of the way to his house.

“darling…” rafe says softly, rubbing his hand over your thigh.

you wake up with a start, gasping and sitting up, looking around rapidly.

“hey, hey.” rafe says softly, pulling you into a somewhat awkward hug over the center console. “it's okay. you're safe. we're at my home.”

you press your face into rafes chest and inhale his familiar scent. he doesn't bring up the anxiety spike as he gets out of the car.

you're about to step out when you look at your surroundings, jaw dropping at the stunning house in front of you.

“rafe- this. this place is beautiful.” you allow rafe to help you stand, stretching your legs out. your bags can come in later, you need a tour immediately.

“welcome to tanneyhill.”

--

“we'll have to go out on the boat tomorrow.” rafe twirls a strand of your hair around his finger. “what do you want to eat? we can make something or we can order in…”

you let out a yawn, the nap on the drive just making you more tired now that the excitement of seeing rafes home has worn off somewhat.

“pizza is fine.” you hum, snuggling closer to rafe on the expansive couch. “your house is very pretty.”

“but…”

“but what?” you look up at rafe. “i mean it's… it's so grand.”

“but impersonal, right?” rafe reads you so well. “it's just not my families style. no pictures of us kids on the wall or sports medals hung up. it's gotta be kept perfect.”

“that's not how i want our house to be one day.” you frown, eyes widening when you realize what you just said.

“relax, princess.” rafe says when he feels you stiffen up. “i imagine what it'll be like to live together some day too. in fact, i think for next semester you can ditch your little dorm and stay with me.”

“move from east campus: cameron to cameron hall?” you giggle at how everything is named after his family.

“exactly.” rafe hums. “because just the walk to the east side of campus is too far from me.”

“you're… too damn sweet.” you press a kiss to rafes lips, groaning when your phone buzzing distracts you from deepening it.

“who is it?” rafe asks, confident it's probably angie or veronica.

“my… my friend from high school.” you quickly sit the phone face down on the coffee table.

“the friend?”

“yes.” you say bitterly, knowing it's not rafe you're really snapping back up but rather the “friend” who still has the audacity to message you even after causing the car wreck that ruined your life.

“it's the anniversary coming up and… i know she's said sorry a million times already, but i just don't want to hear it. i just want to put everything behind me.” you let the words out in a rush.

“maybe what your friend needs for her to heal is to know you've heard it.”

you look at rafe, blinking at him as your mind works. “what are you doing being so wise?”

rafe breaks the tension with a laugh. “honestly, im just quoting back shit my dad has said and hoping it works.”

“can't wait to meet your dad then if he's anything like you.” you smile, trying to keep up the light attitude when rafes face drops slightly. there's such a small difference you barely even pick up on it. 

“rafe?”

“my dad… isnt my biggest fan.”

“but he's your father.” you question, laying back down, slotting your arms around rafe instead of the usual other way around.

“yeah, and therefore anytime i differ slightly from him, it's a huge disappointment.”

“well… then fuck him.”

rafes eyebrows raise up at your bold words, not used to sharing you cuss often and definitely not against someone.

“you're the best and if he doesn't see that, then that's his loss. if he doesn't completely love you, he's out of his mind because he's known you all your life and ive only known for a couple months and i love you.”

rafe launches forward, lips pressing harshly against yours, a mix of tongue and lips sliding over each other's as you kiss. the passion rafe is putting in is unlike any other time, and you know what you want.

“take me upstairs, rafe.” you nod as he looks at you for confirmation.

rafe picks you up, carrying you effortlessly up the stairs until he's in his bedroom and placing you gently down on the soft sheets.

“are you sure?” rafe asks, hovering over top of you.

“im sure. i love you. i want this.”

rafe nods, then gulps. “why am i the one nervous now.” he ducks his head, and you swear you see the slightest tinge of pink on his cheeks. “i love you too. ive never said that to anyone before but… i love you. i am in love with you. i want you and only you.”

“oh, rafe.” you coo out, sitting up to kiss him. you intend for it to be a soft kiss, a gentle caress but it quickly turns fiery.

“god, you've turned me soft.” rafe says, making you laugh.

“not all of you…” you can feel a certain part pressing against you that is not soft at all.

“yeah, but he'll have to wait. not his turn yet. first…” rafe smirks at you. “i need to worship you with my hands. then my mouth. and then ill take you properly.”

rafe gives you no time to complain as his hands delve under your shirt, stroking the soft skin of your stomach, eyes staying on your face in case even a flicker of doubt comes across it.

his hands slowly move up until he's cupping your chest over your bra, keeping everything concealed by your shirt as you get used to the feeling of his large palms engulfing your breast.

“take my shirt off.” you tell rafe. “im okay.” 

rafe nods, but his movements are still slow as he peels your top away. “you're a lot better than okay, baby.”

you can feel rafes eyes on your chest, but it just makes you happy, wanting to share this with him and only him. you make the next move, reaching behind your back to unclip your bra.

“shh, slow down.” rafes hands cover yours. “i know you want this, but let me just… appreciate you.”

rafe nudges your legs apart and lowers himself in between, pressing kisses against your stomach. his movements are so soft, covering your entire belly before moving up.

rafe kisses over the swell of your breast that's pressing against your bra cup, tongue occasionally flicking out to tease underneath the fabric.

rafe picks his head up to ask if you're still doing okay, but upon seeing your face, he knows he doesn't need to. 

your eyes are already glazed over, blissed out and mouth ajar as you slowly blink down at rafe. “more.”

rafe smiles and tugs your bra away, mouth dropping over your nipple with his fingers find the other side, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the bud as his tongue does the same.

his movements continue until your nipples harden. he pulls away only to quickly switch to the other side.

“feels good.” you whimper, hands finding the back of rafes head, holding him to your chest.

“not as good as it feels to have my mouth on you.” rafe moans against your skin, tongue flicking out to press against your breast like he can't get enough of it.

“you can… you can touch me um…” you're about to say down there which just sounds stupid, but rafe thankfully understands you, his hand reaching down to graze his fingertips over your thighs.

he continues teasing, sweeping every time closer to your center until he delves between, finger rubbing against your covered clit as you gasp, back arching off the bed.

“does that feel good?” rafe asks, a smirk gracing his cheeks.

“y-yeah.” you nod quickly, spreading your legs slightly, ignoring the urge to clench them together and trap rafes hand there.

“can i get these leggings out of the way then?”

“take your shirt off first.” you giggle, looking between your exposed body and rafe still completely clothed.

“yes ma’am.” rafe jokes, making you roll your eyes.

you've seen rafe shirtless before, but this is the first time you've been able to unashamedly check him out as your eyes take in every inch of him, every line of muscle and smattering of hair.

rafe is well aware of your eyes on him, subtly flexing his muscles to make them appear bigger as he peels your leggings off your body. you let out a sigh of relief.

rafe presses himself onto the mattress on your side, partly leaned over you so he can continue to play with your chest.

you allow your eyes to close as his hand rubs against your underwear, swirling over the growing wet patch before moving up to your clit, tapping against it before rubbing.

you let out a soft moan, unable to hold back as a high builds inside of you. rafe suddenly presses forward, his hips thrusting against thigh, needing some sort of relief for his hard cock.

“you… you can fuck me now.” you tell rafe, not wanting to have him suffer in waiting.

“two orgasms first.” rafe says, focusing back on rubbing your clit, determined to get you there once before diving between your legs, even though he could drool right now just from the thought.

“i- ohhh.” whatever you were going to say in protest is forgotten as rafe adds a second finger, working them in sync around and over your clit.

“come on baby.” rafe says, breath hot against your neck as he moves up, pressing kisses and nipping gently at your sensitive skin. “i need you to cum for me.”

rafes mouth connects with yours, swallowing your moans as your arms wrap around his shoulders. it only takes a few more moments of his intense rubbing for you to feel something break. your high rushes over you as you cum loudly, squealing and hiding your face in rafes neck as your entire body shakes, surprised by how intense the feeling is.

“i got you.” rafe says softly, his fingers slowing to take you through your high, not stopping until your body slumps against the mattress.

“god, that was beautiful baby.” rafe kisses your forehead, not caring that there's the slightest sheen of sweat covering it. “if you need to stop now…”

“no!” you say quickly, eyes shooting open. “absolutely not, i need you.”

“gonna take your panties off then, yeah?” rafe makes sure you nod before moving lower, sighing with happiness as he pulls the last barrier away. 

you don't even hesitate for a second before spreading your legs wide, letting rafe see every single part of you.

rafe looks up at you, a sense of seriousness in his eyes and tone. “you're beautiful. you're absolutely beautiful.”

rafe leans forward, and all it takes is a quick lick through your wetness to have you screaming out in pleasure.

“delicious.” rafe mumbles, pushing his hips into the bed for some relief as his tongue explores your pussy, purposely avoiding your clit knowing you're still coming down from your high.

“i- oh my god.” you squeeze your eyes shut as your hands grip onto the sheets. “i never thought it could feel so good.”

“only because you're with me baby.” rafe presses kisses to your open thighs. “no other man could make you feel this good.”

you chuckle and shake your head. “relax rafe, im not thinking about anyone else, trust me.”

“just making sure.” rafe grins up at you.

his attention quickly returns to your cunt as his tongue makes broad stripes through your folds, flicking over your clit every time he reaches it.

you're almost sure that you can't cum again so soon, that your body surely isn't able to, but your high builds steadily with every swipe of rafes tongue.

despite pressing his hips forward into the bed, rafe barely pays attention to himself, too wrapped up in swirling his tongue to taste every inch of you, wondering how he managed to hold off so long when he's spent so many nights in the same bed as you.

rafe refocuses on your clit, lips suctioning around it as his eyes flicker up to you, watching the surprise and pleasure across your face.

rafe knows he can't let you cum too soon as he raises his hand to prod a finger against your entrance. rafe can tell by how wet you are that opening you up should be easy and painless, and he couldn't probably enter you right now with no issue, but he won't risk it.

rafe keeps his eyes on your face as one long finger pushes inside of you, feeling your gummy walls clench around him at the sudden intrusion, but your face doesn't change from the consistent moans.

rafe begins to pump the finger as his tongue surges forward to press against your clit, tapping the bundle of nerves in the same rhythm as his finger entering you.

“oh- oh my god im close!” you squeal, only spurred closer when rafe fits a second finger inside, your slick making it easy and seamless.

rafe picks up the speed, occasionally scissoring his fingers and feeling your walls give way to his movements.

you thighs attempt to close, the pressure suddenly sending you over the edge, but rafe lays a hand against your leg and keeps them open as your high hits, body shaking as you scream out, clenching repeatedly around rafes fingers.

“mmm.” rafe hums against your clit, pulling away only to press a kiss to your core. “can't wait to feel you squeezing ‘round my cock like that.”

rafe kneels between your legs, watching your chest rise and fall, your nipples perky and pink from his attention. your body is completely slack from the intensity of the two orgasms as rafe undoes the buttons on his pants.

“do you want me to… do anything?” you ask.

“no.” rafe shakes his head. “this is all about you baby. ill teach you exactly how i like to be touched some other time.”

“okay.” you nod, glad that you can just relax and let rafe do all the work, especially knowing he's far more experienced than you are.

“you can touch me if you want though.” rafe offers, tugging his pants down so just his underwear is covering his cock, tight against his thighs and clearly bulging against the material.

“i- yeah.” you sit up, forcing your tired body through with the excitement and adrenaline of finally doing this with rafe.

your hand pets over his thigh, moving closer and closer until his cock twitches like it's calling out for you to touch him.

you place your hand firmly over his length, squeezing gently as rafes jaw drops open. such a simple motion but he's surprised how much better it feels having it be you touching him rather than a random girl he has no feelings for.

“god, baby.” rafe groans as you open your palm and stroke it over his length from base to tip. “you're already making me feel so good.”

“want me to keep going?”

rafe is so lost in the feeling he doesn't even realize you've asked him a question until a minute later when his hand rests over yours, stopping you. “no, in fact, i need you to stop before this ends way too soon.”

you can't help but giggle, wrapping your hand around rafes neck and giving him a kiss. “how do you want me?”

“you can lay on your back, or hands and knees, however you want. you can be on top too.” rafe offers as he reaches to his nightstand, digging out a condom.

“um… ill just stay like this.” you say, laying back, knowing you can change your mind later if you need to.

“perfect.” rafe smiles at you, leaning over to press a kiss to your tummy. “you're so perfect.”

you're about to respond when rafe pulls his underwear down and all other thoughts leave your mind.

“like what you see?” rafe smirks, his cock hard and seeming even bigger now that its not hidden by any fabric.

you squeeze your thighs together, and it's the only cue rafe needs to see to understand how much you want this. he wastes no time rolling the condom over his cock, sheathing himself in the latex. it's a non negotiable for your first time, not wanting to overwhelm you with worry about getting pregnant or not liking the feeling of his cum inside you.

rafe is excited for the day when he doesn't need a barrier, but he can wait for you.

“just relax.” rafe says, laying himself down over you. “it'll be better if you don't tighten your muscles. if it does hurt at all-”

you interrupt rafe with a kiss. “ill tell you. i know.”

rafe smiles at you, his cheeks stretching even further when his cock pushes forward and rubs through your folds, covering the condom in your slick.

rafe reaches down to line his cock up with your entrance, pushing in very slowly just in case you change your mind at any minute. he pauses when he feels your hips rise up and body tighten, only for you to take a deep breath and relax a moment later.

“feel so good, baby.” rafe says earnestly, pausing fully pushed inside of you, letting himself enjoy your warmth.

“i- just give me one second.” rafe pushing against your walls feels good, but you need a moment to adjust, hips moving up and down then side to side. “okay.” you nod. “you can move now.”

rafe presses a kiss to your lips as he begins to move, the make out turning into open mouthed moans as his hips swing back and forth, fucking into you with a steady rhythm.

“ohhhh!” you moan out as rafe speeds up slightly, your hands coming to hold onto his biceps, bulging as he keeps himself held up above you.

“that's it, baby.” rafe praises you as your thighs spread further apart, opening your pussy further for him. 

“i really like it.” you whine, back arching as rafe digs his cock in deeper, pausing every couple thrusts to circle his hips and grind into you.

“i like it too.” rafe hums. “best ive ever had.”

you roll your eyes, certain any of his other hookups are more experienced and a better time than you, but rafe won't let your doubts slide.

“im serious, baby.” rafe says, not pausing his thrusts as he speaks. “it's because i am completely in love with you.”

“come here.” you pull rafe into a kiss, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close.

“you're so good i don't know how long ill last.” rafe admits.

“i-i already think i could too.” you giggle. “if you just touch me down there.”

“im gonna hold off as long as possible though.” rafe vows. “wanna give you the best time.”

“you already have.” you kiss rafe deeply, obsessed with the taste of his lips, the way they slide against yours and his tongue pokes out to enter your mouth, exploring every inch he can.

rafe picks up his pace and depth of his thrusts, knowing now that you've had plenty of time to get used to the feeling. despite wanting to give you the best experience and focus just on the pleasure of being together, he has to put his mind elsewhere to not cum too soon.

“so wet.” rafe groans, head tipping back as the sounds of your wetness gushing with his every thrust, the sound invading his ears along with the slapping of skin.

“ive never felt like this before.” you admit shyly.

“you're gonna feel this a lot more often.” rafe laughs softly, swallowing thickly when he realizes just seeing your smile and the light in your eyes pushes him closer to the edge.

“gonna touch you now, baby.” rafe shifts his weight slightly to one side, hand ghosting down your stomach before he places the pad of his thumb directly over your clit.

“oh, oh!” you squeal. “rafe!”

rafe keeps pumping into you as you moan, your high suddenly bursting forward, unable to hold back even a second longer as your legs wrap around rafes hips and pull him in.

rafe let's out a sigh of relief as he cums as deep inside of you as he can, bodies pressed flush together.

--

“do you have sunscreen?” you ask. “i know it's autumn and we aren't going to be swimming but it's still pretty bright out.”

“yeah, already got some in the bag.” rafe had woken up early and stayed cuddling you in bed for as long as he could before knowing he needed to get the day started.

while he let your body recover from last night activities, he prepared every single boat anchored on the dock so you could choose any one you wanted, as well as prepared a bag and cooler for the day.

by the time rafe crawled back into bed, you were blinking your eyes open.

“perfect.” you smile and give rafe a quick peck, taking the bag from his hands so he can carry the cooler. you shot down his protest with a quick look.

“fine.” rafe grumbles. “you can carry this one thing.”

“considering i don't even have to lift a finger when you're around, i really don't mind.” you chuckle, following rafe out the back door and across the patio to the long expansive dock stretching deep into the water.

“so…” rafe begins. “there's a smaller speedboat, a pontoon and then obviously the yacht.”

“is it okay if we take the pontoon?” you ask.

“anything you want.” rafe nods. “we got the pontoon for wheezie and her friends, but it's a nice smooth ride and a lot of space. when it gets warmer out im absolutely taking you for a swim.”

“that actually sounds really fun.” you admit. you swam in the ocean a lot in norfolk, always going to virginia beach to be alone with the sand and the calming waves whenever your anxiety levels got too high.

“mhm.” rafe nods. “fun for me too, get you out in a tiny little bikini, away from all other people…”

“oh my god.” you roll your eyes as you laugh. “we had sex once and you're already fantasizing!”

“i was fantasizing about you since the moment i saw you in my seat.” rafe takes the cooler and sets it on the pontoon before taking the bag from you. “i was just gentlemanly enough to keep it to myself.”

“sure.” you roll your eyes again, but it's all in jest, rafe knows you find him hilarious and love his silly jokes. rafe, to prove his gentleman status, reaches a hand down to help you up onto the boat.

“so…” rafe gives you a quick tour, showing you where towels are stored, even though you're not planning on swimming, and lifejackets, just in case.

“but seriously, it's basically impossible to sink a pontoon. you're very safe.” rafe stresses.

“it's okay.” you say. “i trust you, really.”

“my girl.” rafe pulls you onto his lap as he sits down in the captains seat.

rafe navigates easily through the waters, pointing out different landmarks along the coast. “thank you for showing me your home.” you tell rafe, pressing your back into his chest as you round a cove and the wind picks up slightly. “ill show you norfolk one day but it's not as pretty as here.”

“i can't wait to raise kids here.” rafe says. “teach them how to fish and golf and drive the boats.”

“you think about kids?” you turn on rafes thigh to look at him rather than the scenery.

“our kids.” rafe winks at you, causing you to giggle and press your face into his neck, but he really means it, especially bringing you back to his home. he could imagine toddlers footsteps running around tanneyhill.

“you're sweet.” you kiss his cheek.

“don't let that get around.” rafe squeezes your hip as he steers with one hand. “it'll ruin my reputation around here.”

“oh yeah?” you raise your eyebrows. “tell me more about this reputation…”

you happily listen to rafe talk until your stomach starts to growl. he picks up on it quickly, moving the boat further out so you can float down the coast while you eat.

you continue to talk all through lunch, snacking on what rafe had packed.

“there's a million things i want to show you around the island, which means you'll have to start spending all your breaks here if you're not going home.”

“let's see how your family likes me first…” you mutter, giving rafe a look.

“relax. they'll love you. my dad will just be happy i found someone serious. that was the main point of him sending me to duke, was to get my shit together. and i look at you… and i want to be perfect for you. i love you so much.”

--

“this movie is boring.” you groan. “how can you make a movie about sharks and have it be boring as hell?”

“we can change it.” rafe offers, going to grab the remote when you stop him.

“no, im too deep into it now. i just want to complain.” rafe nods at your explanation and cuddles back into the couch, pulling you in tight to him.

“well…” he whispers in your ear, breath causing you to shiver. “since you're bored, how about i entertain you?”

you're not sure what rafe means until his hand pushes between your thighs, three fingers pressing against your core and rubbing.

“ohhh.” you moan out softly, eyes fluttering closed. 

“sorry, love.” rafe says. “i couldn't wait until we got up into bed, not with my family getting home tomorrow. i need you too bad.”

“in… in my pants, please.” you take rafes hand, moving quicker for him to slip it below the hem and into your pajama pants, where rafe is pleased to find you aren't wearing any underwear.

his fingers stroke through your folds, feeling your wetness steadily growing before his finger prods against your entrance, slipping in with ease.

rafe watches as your eyes open to watch a scene playing out on the television before they close again when another boring part comes on, another monologue when you expected action.

“feel good?” rafe asks, glad that you aggressively nod. 

“don't you dare stop.” you spread your thighs a little wider, having to lift a leg over his to give him even more room to press into you, hand pressing in so his palm can rub against your clit.

“as soon as this stupid movie is done im taking you upstairs and fucking you so hard.” rafe growls the last words, putting all the effort he can into fingering you and massaging your clit that he possibly can.

his eyes light up when your back arches, mouth opening as small moans fall from your lips before you turn into a shaking mess as your high breaks, reaching down to stop rafes hand as you immediately become oversensitive.

“yum.” rafe says, pulling his hand away to lick your wetness off his fingers.

“ill just read the synopsis later, come on.” you tell rafe, standing up off the couch and pulling him up the stairs.

--

“please, call me ward.” rafes father says, graciously giving you a hug.

“well, it's nice to meet all of you.” you say with a wide smile on your face to hide your nerves, looking between rafes step mom rose and his littlest sister wheezie who looks genuinely excited to meet you. “and thank you so much for letting me stay in your beautiful home.”

“we were so glad when rafe told us he met someone.” rose lays a hand over her chest. “and my goodness, you're just even better than we imagined.

“she's a keeper for sure.” rafe places an arm around your waist, smiling down at you as you tuck your head down, cheeks tinging pink.

“so, you've got to tell us all about yourself.” ward sweeps his arm towards the living room, and soon you're all chatting on the couch that rafe fingered you on the night before. you push the memory to the back of your mind as you answer all of wards questions (and occasionally a few from wheezie).

“im a duke alumni myself.” ward says.

“oh, im well aware.” you chuckle. “your name is plastered all over the school. i think it's amazing that you invest in your alma mater.”

hours go by, rose insisting you all eat dinner together, before rafe finally has you alone in his room.

“god, they love you.” rafe says, watching you while you changing into pajamas, making him promise he wouldn't try anything with his parents under the same roof.

“i was trying to say all the right things.” you giggle. “i really like wheezie though, she's sweet.”

“im sure she won't argue if you want to take her out shopping tomorrow.” rafe offers.

“id actually love that. maybe ill invite sarah too so i can actually meet her.” sarah had ward drop her off at her boyfriend's house before they even came back home from their vacation, but you can't blame her for being a teen in love.

“ill give you my card then.” rafe says. you roll your eyes. rafe pays for everything, not that it even makes a dent in what you know he's being given as an allowance from ward and cameron enterprises.

“thanks babe.” you climb into bed, snuggling under the covers as rafe sets an alarm on his phone and makes sure both of yours are plugged in and charging.

“come here.” rafe opens up his arms once he's also under the covers, and you're glad to snuggle into his chest, heart rate instantly slowing and breathing deepening just from your cheek being pressed against his tshirt.

--

“rafe.” you hum, placing a hand on his thigh as he starts up the car.

“yeah baby?” rafe is fully prepared for you to ask to drive, or tell him you're not ready to go yet. he's willing to make whatever concessions needed to get you back to duke.

“can we make a stop in rahleigh? that's where my… friend from high school lives now, and id like to stop by quickly and just tell her im okay and that i accept her apologies.”

rafe nods, blinking away a few tears as he reaches over to give you a tight hug. “im so proud of you baby.”

you press your face into rafes neck, knowing you can do this when you have rafe by your side.

-- four years later --

“are you nervous?” rafe asks, watching you adjust the cap on your head.

“actually, no.” you admit honestly. “and if i do get nervous,” you turn away to face rafe. “ill just look at you.”

“oh god, come here.” rafe pulls you in tight, kissing the top of your head. 

“alright, come on.” you step out of the hug before it can go any further. “i dont wanna be late to my own graduation.”

“ah, you know i can delay it all with one phone call.” rafe tugs on your hand, tempting you back towards the bed.

“show off.” you roll your eyes, allowing rafe to pull you back to the mattress.

[john-get-the-salt]

Packed Lunch (w/spencer reid)

Imagine: One morning Spence is in a rush to leave for work and forgets his lunch. You know he gets cranky when he gets hungry, so that only leaves one option.

Contains: secret relationship becoming not so secret anymore, funny Rossi, cute domestic Reid

It'd been exactly 39 minutes since Spencer left for work and you hadn't moved a muscle, standing and glaring at the bag sitting on the counter. It wasn't that the bag itself had offended you, as it was in fact just a harmless brown paper bag. What did offend you, was that it wasn't with Spencer like it should be. The packed lunch was no good if Spencer didn't pack it with him to work.

He'd been in such a rush leaving that morning that he zipped out the door without it. Whenever he stayed the night at your place you made sure to pack him a lunch, knowing that he wasn’t always the best at caring for himself.

Forgetting to bring lunch wasn't usually a big deal for most people. You knew that the federal building where he worked had a cafeteria.

But this was Spencer Reid you were talking about. And Spence hated the cafeteria food. On the occasion he forgot his lunch he'd just go the entire day living off coffee and whatever snacks were hidden in his desk. Then he’d go back to either his apartment or yours, starving and with a nasty headache.

This meant without his lunch he would most likely not be eating today. And as you thought about how stressed and overworked he'd been lately, that did not sit well with you.

So it was decided. You would drop his food off.

He was just in the office for the day as far as you knew, so you were moderately sure you could just leave it with the front desk or something and have them take it up to him.

The two of you had been dating for several months but agreed to keep it secret from his coworkers for now. Spencer was adamant that in his line of work he could never have any secrets, and for once he wanted to have something all to himself. You couldn't even begin to understand how he did what he did, so that was an easy request to grant.

You had since then discussed telling his co-workers about your relationship as you two became more serious, but the right time hadn't come up yet. Plus it made you giggle when he told you the tales of his co-workers trying to set him up or making fun of his lack of romantic life.

This all meant you couldn't just stroll into the building and announce to everyone that you were dropping food off for your boyfriend, Spencer Reid. You would need to quickly and discretely drop the food off and then be gone without a trace.

No harm in that at all. Right?

You quickly got dressed and grabbed the lunch. Living within walking distance of the BAU headquarters was extremely handy, especially today. It was a nice day and you enjoyed the weather as you walked.

It only took about 15 minutes before you were pulling the doors to the government building open, immediately being hit with a rush of cool air. The inside was full of people who looked like they really meant business in their fancy suits and stern faces. You sudden felt self conscious in your normal ‘civilian’ attire, and scurried up to the front desk to get this over with.

The lady at the front desk seemed disinterested, and barely looked up when you stopped in front of her.

"Can I help you?"

"Hi, yes. I was hoping I could drop off this food for my boyfriend. He works here and forgot it this morning and he always gets cranky when he's hungry and-"

"Ma'am we don't deliver food."

"I know I just-he's going to be hungry and I can tell you what department he works for and maybe someone could run it up to him real quick."

She pulled open a binder from her desk, sighing heavily. "Can I get his name and your name?"

"Oh, um, his name is Spencer Reid, and mine is but I don't work here I'm-"

"Here. You're already a registered visitor."

She handed you a clip on badge with Visitor printed on it in big bold letters. "Give that to security, then elevators are to the left and there's a directory on the wall. Have a good day."

Before you could even argue she was dismissing you and addressing the person in line behind you. So you forced your feet to move and head towards security. You felt like a fraud walking amongst agents and other government workers, and you kept your gaze down to avoid eye contact. After your purse got checked and your visitor badge got scanned you shuffled to the elevators.

You paused in front of the directory on the wall, squinting at the dozens of names listed. Where the fuck was the BAU?

You must've looked as confused as you felt, as someone stopped beside you.

“Ma'am? Do you need help finding something?"

You turned towards the voice, coming face to face with a kind-looking older man.

"Oh! I do actually, if you wouldn't mind."

"Of course, what department are you looking for?"

"Um, the BAU?"

"Well I can definitely help you there."

He pressed the elevator button and the two of you waited for a moment before the doors opened and the elevator emptied. He gestured forward and you gave him an appreciative smile before stepping in. He followed along with a few other people. It remained quiet as the elevator rose and stopped at occasional floors, people getting in and out.

Eventually it stopped at floor 6 (totally making this up idk) and the man announced this was the stop.

You followed him off the elevator and onto a floor that was still busy, but nearly as much as the lobby. Straight ahead, down a little hall, were a set of glass doors with BAU printed on the front. You chewed on your lip as you stared the door down, contemplating.

How were you going to casually drop Spence's lunch off without creating suspicion? You couldn't exactly just walk right in and hand it to him without people questioning who you were.

"Can I help you find anyone in particular?"

"Oh no that's okay, you've helped plenty. I don't want to keep you from your business."

"Please, what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't help?"

This was so not the plan. But what other option did you have? You hadn't accounted for this scenario, you were positive you wouldn't make it past the front desk. But now here you were, and you needed to make sure this food got to Spence. Plus it probably wasn't smart to aimlessly wander around an FBI building. With your luck someone would think you were a terrorist or something. And you were not a terrorist.

"I didn't think you were, but my confidence in that is now wavering."

Oh my god. You said that last part out loud. To an FBI agent.

“Oh god I’m so sorry, I did not mean to say that out loud. I swear I’m not a terrorist. I have this terrible habit of saying dumb things when I’m nervous.”

Could this get any worse? All you wanted to do was drop your boyfriends lunch off and now you were talking about terrorism with an FBI agent.

To your relief, the man just chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, I’ve heard plenty worse. Now who are you looking for?”

At this point you were ready for the earth to just swallow you whole and you were deeply regretting ever leaving the apartment.

“Spencer Reid,” you said simply as you held up the bag in hand. “I have his lunch.”

“Spencer? He’s just through these glass doors, follow me.”

At this point, you didn’t care who saw you. You didn’t care that it sounded like this man knew Spence, and may or may not think you are a terrorist.

You just wanted fo give Spence his lunch and get the fuck out of dodge.

Following the stranger through the glass doors, you found yourself in a much quieter area. The entrance led out onto a catwalk from where you could see clusters of desks below you and a little coffee bar against the wall.

"I'll just set the lunch over here-"

"(Y/N)?"

You looked up at the voice and found your boyfriend standing below you at a desk, a concerned look on his face. He left the group of people he was standing with and jogged up the steps towards you.

"Hey, is everything ok? Did something happen? Are you ok?" His eyes were wide with concern, words coming out fast as he glanced over you. His hands automatically reached for yours, something the two of you did without thought.

"I'm fine, my love. You just forgot your lunch," you held up the paper bag. "I tried to drop it off at the front desk but the lady just gave me this pass and told me to bring it up. Then I almost got lost but this nice guy stopped and helped but I was so nervous I accidentally said something about terrorism and I know I shouldn't drop by unannounced but I also know how cranky you get when you're hungry and I-"

"(Y/n)," he cut your anxious rambling off, smiling in relief that everything was ok. "Thank you."

You smiled back up at him, relieved he wasn’t upset. "You're quite welcome. And I must say I feel so official with my badge even though I absolutely do not belong here."

He laughed. "I think you fit right in."

"Well I-"

"Reid?"

You both froze and became suddenly re-aware of the current setting. You looked up at your boyfriend with wide, worried eyes.

Spencer sighed, though that dopey smile of his remained on his face. "I think our secret is out."

He intertwined his hand in yours and together you turned towards the voice. Standing with varying looks of confusion and smugness were a group of people you recognized as his co-workers.

"Who's this?"

Spencer cleared his throat. "Um, guys this is… my girlfriend."

You gave a hesitant wave, trying not to shrink under the intimidating gazes. The office was quiet for a moment, before someone else burst into the room

"Did Reid just say girlfriend?!"

"That's correct, babygirl," one of them spoke up. "Pretty boys got himself a girlfriend."

The blonde gasped, before rushing forward and grabbing you into a hug.

"It is SO nice to meet you!"

You laughed as you hugged her back.

“It's lovely to meet you too, Penelope. All of you.”

She released you and you turned towards the rest of the team.

“Spence is always showing me pictures and talking about you guys, I hope you understand us wanting to keep it quiet for a while. But I've been really looking forward to meeting you."

A man with a stern look in his eye stepped forward, holding out a hand. "Aaron Hotchner," his eyes seemed to soften as you shook his hand. "Nice to finally meet you."

That broke the rest of the team out of this trance and they all gathered forward to formally introduce themselves. You shook everyone's hands and giggled as they ogled at the fact that Spencer had caught himself a girlfriend.

You learned, with a laugh, that the man who'd helped you find your way was in fact David Rossi, one of Spence's coworkers. I’m your anxious mess you hadn’t recognized the man.

You explain to everyone that you were just dropping off Spencer's lunch, but you weren't getting away that easily.

Penelope and JJ convinced you to stay, and you all spent the lunch break sitting around a conference table chatting. Hearing stories about Spence on the job had you cry laughing and you happily indulged his friends in some stories of your own.

The entire time Spencer kept a tight hold of your hand, smile never wavering as he watched his favorite people laugh together.

His family.

[stylesloveclub]

sunshine (making out blurb)

first blurb for grumpyrry x sunshine virgin y/n!!!

sunshine masterlist

+++

Y/n’s math homework is always a little less horrible when she’s doing it with Harry.

When it’s just her doing calculus by herself, it’s miserable. She gets stressed out as soon as she gets a problem wrong, overwhelmed by all the weird symbols and shortcuts that she doesn’t know. Calculus is just so stupidly hard! She usually has to spend an hour just reading the textbook and finding videos to help her understand whatever they just learned in class… until she eventually gives up and goes to bed. 

It’s different with Harry though. There’s something about the way he explains things to her that just makes it make sense. She’s told him time and time again that he should be the one up there teaching the class instead of her stupid professor. He makes math easy. A big part of it might be because he’s right there to catch her mistakes and answer her questions if she gets stuck, but also he’s just a really good teacher. He breaks concepts down for her in a way that isn’t all complicated and math-y, but like a fun little puzzle. And if she doesn’t get it, he’ll do the problem right in front of her, explaining every step and pausing to make sure she gets it. He’s patient and motivating, and pushes her to solve problems by herself, even if she’s scared that she’ll do it wrong. 

Plus, he gives her a nice little kiss as a reward every time she solves a question right, so you best believe she’s not giving up until she gets every damn question in that textbook right! 

“Good job sunshine,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. 

They’re sitting thigh to thigh on her bed, y/n’s ipad in her lap and her textbook right in front of her criss-crossed legs. She’s in a cutsie little pajama set, matching white pj shorts and a tiny tank top with little roses printed all over it. Harry sits with his legs spread out in front of him, with one of his hands gently resting on her back as he leans over her shoulder and checks her work. She smiles cutely, the apples of her cheeks rounding out as Harry’s pink lips pucker against her cheek as a reward. Not only does she feel proud of herself for getting the math right, but she also feels her heart do a backflip every time Harry gives her a kiss. Who knew doing her math homework could be so fun! 

She flips her pencil around in her fingers, turning her head to the side so she can get a proper reward. Kisses on the cheek are good motivation for when she’s struggling and she needs a little something to keep her going through a hard problem… but she got this one right. Her eyes meet his bright green ones, which are glimmering softly. He’s already smiling at her, his thumb tracing soft little circles on her back, and he doesn’t deny her when she leans in for a soft, sweet, and innocent kiss on the lips. In fact, when she tries to pull away from her soft little peck, he follows her forward, refusing to disconnect their lips until he gets a few more kisses in. 

It makes her giggle against his lips, pushing on his shoulders. “I only have one more,” she says, not wanting to get distracted when she’s so close to being done.

The dimple in his cheek deepens, and he stares at her softly. His eyes are so intense, as if he’s looking straight into her heart, as if he’s trying to see into the depth of her soul so he can really understand her. They flicker back and forth between hers, filled with just pure adoration. “If you get this last one right, I have a surprise for you,” he whispers mischievously.

Y/n’s eyes widen, a flash of excitement flickering over her irises. “What?” she asks eagerly, her hands landing on his thigh.

His lips twist in an impish smile, and he nods towards her homework. “Do it and you’ll see.”

She gets it right in one try, zero questions asked. It seems like kisses and little surprises are really all it takes to teach y/n math. She’s looking back at him with giddy eyes, basking as he gives her one last kiss for doing her homework correctly. “Go look in my bag,” he mumbles against her lips, one of his hands coming up to tuck her hair behind her ear. She pulls away from him, giving him a suspicious look with squinted eyes and pursed lips, but he just smiles and nods his chin towards his bag.

She gets up and cautiously approaches, peeking back at him nervously. All he does is smile, leaning back onto her pillows and putting his hands behind his back. She unzips his bag, and inside of it… 

“Oh,” y/n’s eyes round out as soon as she sees it. “Harry,” she whimpers, turning around to face him with a pout. Inside of his bag is the cutest pink stuffed elephant, with a little elephant nose that makes y/n want to cry. The elephant has animated eyes and big floppy ears, and it’s soft and fuzzy and just makes her heart melt because it’s so her and it’s so Girl and her grumpy boyfriend just knows her so well!!! She picks up the elephant and runs over to her bed with it and she gets extra excited when she sees how perfectly her new friend fits in with the rest of her pink stuffies and pillows. She climbs straight on top of Harry, putting the elephant next to her worn out stuffed bunny, and throws her arms around his shoulders. 

“Thank you, I love it, it’s so cute,” she babbles, burying her face in his neck. She’s almost getting emotional because there’s absolutely no occasion for him to be getting her gifts, her voice getting a little high pitched and wobbly. Harry smiles like it’s no big deal, his hand petting her hair softly as he chuckles softly. “What’s it for?” she asks, pulling away and looking at him with big round eyes.

He shrugs. “Saw it when I was out last night. Thought you would like it.” 

She stares at him with that endearing little pout, not knowing what to do except to lean in and kiss him. She puts her hands on his face, her fingers cupping his and his smiling cheeks pressed against her palms, and pulls him forward so she can press her lips against his. 

His lips struggle to kiss her back with how big he’s smiling, so in awe of her and how cute she is, but he manages to rest a hand on her hip and pucker his lips against hers. Her hands slide down to hold onto his shoulders, and her fingers twist in his shirt as their lips fold over each other. She loves kissing him, she really does. Whenever she flutters her eyes shut and presses her lips against his, all her worries melt away. Her shoulders relax and her mind goes blank. Harry brings up a hand to cup her jaw, and his thumb traces over her cheekbone softly, just feeling her delicate skin. 

They haven’t gone any further than these innocent kisses so far, except for that first time in his room, when he’d turned what should have been her romantic first kiss into an impromptu makeout sesh. He felt horrible when he found out that he’d tried to casually hook up with her when she hadn’t even had her first kiss! And absolutely sick to his stomach when he realized he’d been her first kiss, and that he had fucked it all up! 

A sweet little sunshine girl like her deserved to have the first kiss of her dreams, he mourned. At a moonlit picnic or in a garden of roses. And he’d given her the worst first kiss. He literally made her cry. 

Since then, there have been plenty of better, sweeter, more romantic kisses, to make up for that teensy little blip of a first kiss – kisses on her front doorstep after the most magical first date, kisses at the park underneath the cherry blossom trees, goodnight kisses in her bed before he tucks her in and heads home for the night. But nothing more than that.

Tonight though… he’s tempted to try a little something more. 

He kisses her lips one final time before pulling away with a soft click, his hand still gently cupping her jaw. His eyes slowly open, and he finds his sunshine already looking right back at him, her eyes wide and moony. Her lips are parted, so soft and delicate and kissable, and she blinks innocently. She’s so cute, so reactive and eager. She’s staring at him like he just gave her the world with that little kiss. 

His fingers trace down from her cheek to her lips, and then to her jawline. With the softest nudge he tilts her head to the side, then brushes her hair off to the side to expose her neck. When his lips skim the sensitive skin right above her pulse point, her breath catches in her throat. Her grip on his shirt tightens, and her thighs tense from where she’s sitting atop him, straddling his hips. 

His lips press against her neck so softly, the most delicate kiss he’s ever pressed against her skin. His eyes flutter shut and he just lingers there, inhaling deeply. She smells like vanilla and sugar cookies. She makes his heart pound and his head spin. His hand on her hip holds on tighter, his fingers dimpling her soft skin as he starts to press more kisses up her neck and around her jawline. 

Y/n’s eyes flutter shut and she tries to regulate her breathing, but her breaths are short and shaky and she can’t think straight. Harry’s breathing sends shivers down her spine, tickling her ear every time he exhales. His cotton candy lips tickle her throat and press down in hot, slow, gentle kisses. She swallows thickly and tries to hold down all the noises that want to escape her, but somehow a breathy moan leaves her lips. She feels herself grow hot and she’s not sure if it’s embarrassment at how weak she sounds, or if she’s just getting all hot from how Harry’s tongue just darted out to lightly tease her neck. 

Harry smiles to himself lightly, deciding to test the waters and suck a little bit at her neck. He forgets, sometimes, just how innocent and inexperienced his angel of a girlfriend is. She gets worked up easily and is so responsive to his touch. Even the lightest of kisses against her throat have her whimpering and floating in another world. He loves it. He can sense how antsy she’s getting now, how she’s shuffling around on his lap and fisting at his shirt. She hopes he can’t tell how sweaty her palms have gotten, and she’d actually die if she knew that he could feel her clenching around nothing through her tiny sleep shorts.

He doesn’t spend too much time on her neck, not wanting to leave any marks without her permission, instead sliding his fingers into her hair and tilting her head down again so it’s no longer thrown back. She lets him maneuver her easily, opening her eyes, her chest rising and falling heavily. Her eyebrows pinch together as she briefly looks down at his lips, longingly. She tries to get ahold of herself, but just a few seconds of him loving on her neck have sent her into a spiral. She’s so sensitive, so reactive – she jumps when his hand migrates to her thigh, goosebumps rising as he rubs up and down her bare leg. 

Harry’s eyes are warm and fond as he just stares at her– her pretty eyes and her delicate eyelashes, her lips, her cheeks, her smile. He tries not to linger too much on how cute she looks in her pajamas, how the low neckline accentuates her neck and her collarbones or how the thin material fails to conceal her peaked nipples. If he thinks about it too hard, he’ll get hard. And he doesn’t want that yet, doesn’t want to overwhelm his sweet, pure, innocent sunshine with his horny thoughts. 

He kisses her again as a distraction, slotting their lips together, and it’s sweet and simple and calming. Kissing her is comforting, her lips a safe haven. She could be an angel, for all he knows, with a halo and wings and everything.

“Sunshine,” he murmurs between kisses, “do something for me?”

“Hm?” she hums, hazy and half-paying attention. She stutters a bit when Harry’s tongue flicks at her bottom lip, and then at the seam of her lips. He gives a reassuring kiss.

“Open up f’me a bit.” His hand cups her jaw and he soothingly pets her face, as if coaxing her to part her lips. “Wanna– wanna taste you.”

She can’t help but pause, pulling back from the kiss for just a second to process what he’s said, but she’s nodding yes before any insecurity can fill her mind. “Okay,” she says softly, swallowing nervously. “Um–” she tries to ask this without embarrassing herself, “What do I do with my tongue?”

He continues pressing kisses to the corner of her mouth, “Jus’– um – lick against mine, sunshine.” He pulls away for just a second, eyes half-hooded and not at all fazed about having to explain this to her. “Dunno how to really explain it. You’ll get the hang of it, though.” 

She nods once more, insecurely, and flutters her eyes shut as Harry leans back in to continue kissing her. His fingers scratch deliciously against her scalp as he licks against her lips again – this time, she opens. His tongue dips in slowly, like soft honey, warm and wet. It’s unfamiliar, sure, but it doesn’t bother her. She tries to mimic the way his jaw falls slack, and how his tongue dips forward and back softly, opening up for him more and more as he continues to gently kiss her. He licks into her again, brushing his tongue against hers and she finds herself not even thinking as she brushes back. Her eyebrows pinch together and her nails start to dig into his back as she unconsciously leans closer to him. 

Their lips move against each other slowly, a sultry dance that’s all brand new to y/n… but god is it hot to have his tongue in her mouth. He’s warm and wet and playful, using his tongue to tease her lower lip while they kiss, flicking against her tongue flirtatiously. A whimper crawls up her throat, needy and desperate for more. He’s showing her things that she’s never experienced before, and all the pent up sexual desire she’s had is bubbling up in her tummy, begging to be released. 

She’s started to move her hips against him in soft rolls, grinding herself down as subtly as she can, and Harry’s hands on her hip seems to be encouraging her, gripping her tightly and pulling her closer and closer. Her arms unravel from around his shoulders and sneak their way down to the hem of his shirt, fingers finding the firm, warm skin of his abdomen. Her hands skim upwards to feel the lines of muscle that line his tummy, and she can’t believe that this green eyed adonis is literally her boyfriend. She lightly tugs on the shirt signaling that she wants it off, and starts whining while her hips move against his and Harry lets out a deep, low groan. 

He gently grabs her hands that are toying with the edge of his shirt and guides them back around his neck. “Not yet, baby,” he mumbles, giving a couple of soft, more tame pecks while his hand slows down her hips. He gives her one firm kiss to her lips to leave her breathless, then traces some more down her neck while she pants up towards the ceiling. Her throat bobs as she swallows thickly, and for the first time, her eyes are filled with lust, arousal, and need. Harry looks just as bad as her, his eyes dark, pupils blown out, lips pink and swollen. 

“Need t’take it slow,” he rasps, sounding more like he’s trying to convince himself rather than y/n. 

She takes a deep breath, and nods her head, understanding. He’s doing this for her, saving her firsts so that they can be comfortable and memorable and special special… but god, sometimes she wishes he would just rip her clothes off and stuff his cock inside of her the way Rhysand does in the book she’s reading right now. Virginity is overrated anyway, who cares how she loses it! (she does)

But she agrees nonetheless, rolling off of him with a heavy sigh and wiping her lips with the back of her hand. She feels sticky in between her thighs and her heart has not beat at a normal pace for the past ten minutes of kissing Harry. But, whatever. She picks up her new stuffed elephant, petting its floppy ears softly, and thankfully doesn’t notice the way Harry has to subtly adjust his plumped up cocked. 

She just flops down next to him, elephant in hand, kicking her feet in the air behind her, and asks, “What do you think we should name her?”

+++

It’s become a sort of routine for Harry and y/n to hang out after class on Friday nights. 

Monday and Wednesday nights, y/n is usually at the library studying, and on Tuesday/Thursdays, Harry has a math lecture from 6-7:20. Of course, Harry will oftentimes sit at the library with her, maybe do some homework (or usually take a nap) while she reads her biology textbook and takes color coded notes. And on the nights that Harry has his late night lectures, she’ll stay on campus a little later so that they could get dinner together before class. 

But Friday nights are when they really get to see each other. Sunshine is usually too burnt-out by the end of the week to even think about studying, and Harry is more than content to sit at his apartment and play video games while she reads a book in his bed.

It’s their favorite way to hang out after a long week. No loud parties, no stinky rooms, no distractions. Just them, together. 

Blake’s gone back to visit his hometown for the weekend, so Harry and y/n have his apartment all to themselves. That means that instead of hiding out in his room like usual, they’ve migrated out to his living room. Harry’s playing some video game on the TV, filled with blood and war and gory stuff, but he’s turned down the volume so that the gross sounds don’t bother sunshine while she’s reading. She’s got a big hardcover book in her hands (Happy Place by Emily Henry), a book that she’d gotten when they went to Barnes and Noble together last Friday. She’s only just had the chance to start it, though, since she had a big bio midterm earlier today. 

Harry sits shirtless on the couch, his eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched in a serious way that looks insanely hot from where y/n is sitting. Her back is resting against the other arm of the couch, facing Harry with her feet up and crossed at the ankle, her pink fuzzy socks almost brushing against his elbows. He’s shirtless, only wearing a pair of gray sweats (!!!), and his arms just look so… big and yummy. She can see the small freckles and bumps on his tanned back as he hunches over his controller, and can’t tear her eyes away from the shadows of muscles along his back and shoulders. And his heart shaped lips… so pink and plump and kissable…

An amused smirk gradually spreads on Harry’s face, signature dimple denting his cheek as he feels y/n’s hungry eyes feasting on him from the other end of the couch. From the corner of his vision, he can see the way she’s chewing on the inside of her cheek, how her eyes are captivated by his bare torso with such fascination. 

He doesn’t think she even realizes how long she’s been staring at him.

He gives her a quick glance, eyes glimmering teasingly, and she realizes that she’s been embarrassingly caught. Quickly, she averts her eyes back down to her book, pretending like nothing happened.

Harry chuckles. “Whatcha starin’ at, sunshine?”

“Nothing,” she hums casually, despite her burning hot cheeks.

He pauses his game, putting the controller down onto the little coffee table next to him, and turns towards her. She refuses to meet his gaze this time, continuing to stare down at the page even though she’s processing about 0% of the words that she reads. No, her brain is exceedingly preoccupied with how her very attractive and very shirtless boyfriend is staring at her right now, with that teasing look in his eye. And that stupid, smug smirk. He’s like a snake about to attack a tiny little garden bunny. 

“Baby…” he goads, but she continues to pretend-read her book. Only when he lightly tickles her sock-covered foot does she pay any attention to him, yelping out and jolting her feet away. He snorts out a laugh as she folds both her feet underneath herself, clumsily protecting herself from Harry’s devilish fingers. It wouldn’t be hard for him to tackle her right now, hold her down on the couch while his fingers dig into her ribs and under her armpits until she's cry-laughing. He’s done it plenty of times before, and has found it to be the most effective way to get her attention… so she puts the book down obediently and looks up at him with a shy smile.

“Hi,” she says innocently, pretending like she hadn’t been ogling him for five minutes straight while he’d been playing his game. She just sits there with her hands in her lap, as if she’s an angel. 

He smiles knowingly. Her longing stares and hungry eyes are her silent indication that she wants a kiss. The type of kiss where he pulls her into his lap, licks into her mouth, and palms at her ass. A real, proper make out. 

She probably doesn’t know that she’s so obvious about it, he thinks – staring at his lips with puppy dog eyes and drooling over his bare chest. She’s trying to play it casual, but he can see the needy glimmer in her eyes. It seems like making out with her that first time in her bedroom opened the floodgates, unleashing something in y/n that had been so innocently contained by her angelic, virginal facade. Ever since then, she’s been giving him these eyes, begging for more. 

He shakes his head to himself, still smirking, before leaning forward to kiss her. This is exactly what she wants, and Harry knows it. Her longing stares and hungry eyes were just her silent way of asking for a kiss, since she’s a little too shy to ask for it straight up.

Their lips fold over each other, a slow kiss, gentle and meant only to subdue y/n. The only sound in the room is the soft smacking of their lips against each other, the little click that comes every time his lips slide off hers and then reattach milliseconds later. He leads the kiss (he always does), so every time he tilts her head, sunshine tilts the other way. When he slides his fingers into her hair, she stretches her neck upwards. When his teeth nip at her bottom lip teasingly, she whines with furrowed brows, pressing herself against his lips harder. And when he licks at the seam of her lips, she opens up for him, just like he taught her. 

He can feel his cock stirring, and forces himself to pull away. It’s a kiss deep enough to satisfy most of sunshine’s needs – to quiet her racing mind and get her focused on just him and nothing else – but it’s also nothing too intense to overwhelm her. And, it’s tame enough for Harry to be able to show some restraint. 

He has to take a second, hovering in front of her with his eyes still closed. His hand is still cupping her jaw, just reveling in the taste of her chapstick that lingers on his lips… he takes a deep, calming breath. Breathe in, hold for seven seconds, then out. He’s strong. 

But… when he opens his eyes, she’s looking up at him with disappointed and longing irises, her bottom lip jutting out sadly. She wants more, her eyes clearly say, and she’s needy for him, her pouted lips tease.

Okay maybe he’s not that strong. 

He’s barely kissed her, and yet her pupils are blown out with desire, breath already catching in her throat. He wonders how disheveled she’d look if he really kissed her. How she’d whimper out little noises if he licked into her mouth, or how her chest would rise and fall while she tries to catch her breath. She’d probably grip onto his shirt, wrap her arms around his neck and twist her fingers into his hair, tugging on it desperately.  And he’d grip her hips, grind her down onto his cock, bite on her bottom lip and suck on her tongue… god, his dick twitches at the thought of it. 

If he were strong, he’d shut his eyes and get a hold of himself – but he’s not. Instead he stares at her pretty lips, slicked and swollen just from that little bit of kissing. His thumb softly brushes against the apple of her cheek, while her eyes only grow wider and more pleading. If he likes her lips so much, then why doesn’t he just get back to kissing her! 

His thumb comes down to tug on her pouty lip so he can watch it bounce back into place. His eyes darken, his nose flares, and his eyebrows furrow, and then he hears her whimper, literally whimper because of how pent up and needy she’s feeling. His resolve crumbles.

If she wants more, he’ll give her more.

He kisses her again, still soft and gentle, but somehow it’s hotter. Needier. Their lips fold over each other over and over again, an eager, spit-slicked exchange. The only sound in the room is the soft smacking of their lips against each other, the little click that comes every time his lips slide off hers and then reattach milliseconds later. 

Y/n is unconsciously lifting herself up to be closer to him, nearly sitting on her knees now, pressing herself upwards and upwards. At this point he should just pull her on top of her, he thinks, so he puts a hand on her hip and coaxes her onto his lap. 

She’s clumsy as she climbs onto him, too concentrated on not messing up their kiss to successfully untangle her own legs (she’s still new to all this), but Harry doesn’t mind it. It’s endearing, how her foot gets stuck underneath her butt as she presses herself closer to him, or how her knee knocks against his hip as she tries to straddle him. His hands gently guide her thighs as she maneuvers herself onto his lap, hands encasing her ribs and steadying her uncoordinated movements.

His thighs spread open in a natural manspread, and he slouches down enough on the couch so that y/n’s a head above him. She has to lean down to keep their lips connected, her hair falling into his face, and her hands tentatively find their way to his shoulders so that she can keep her balance and not fall on top of him. Harry’s fingers gently brush the hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear, then linger on her face, tracing over her cheekbone and cupping her jaw. He loves holding her face when he kisses her, especially because she unconsciously leans into his touch, sighing happily the way a kitten being pet would purr. 

She never knew the simple act of kissing could be this hot… but there’s something about having his warm mouth against hers, feeling the slick of his spit as he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth… even just feeling his heavy breaths against the side of her cheek. Soft sighs and little moans escape her in a way she can’t control, and her brows pinch together in the cutest, most desperate way when his hands migrate over her bum and start palming her.

She just wants to kiss him over and over and over again! No breaks, not even to breathe. She wants to feel his lips against hers until she passes out.

She reciprocates his every move eagerly, like a little puppy learning how to do tricks. She’ll move her head whichever way his nose nudges her, slot her lips against his at whatever pace he decides on. When he breathes, she breathes, and when he slides his fingers into her hair, she stretches her neck upwards. He’s constantly tilting his head to the left and then to the right, switching between suckling on her top and bottom lip, alternating between open mouth and closed mouth kisses – just teaching her as he kisses her. 

Harry pulls away softly, pressing his forehead to hers and petting the apple of her cheek with his thumb, giving her a break to catch her breath. “Alright?” he asks a bit breathlessly. She nods, eager but apprehensive. Harry calms her with a simple peck, soft and familiar. “Y’doing so good, sunshine,” he murmurs reassuringly. 

He’s kissing her again three seconds later, slower and more deliberately this time. She parts her lips once more, more sure of herself this time, and when his tongue flicks against her bottom lip softly she experimentally licks back. It immediately illicits a deep groan from Harry. He slides his tongue past her lips, tasting her, licking into her. His teeth nip at her bottom lip teasingly, and she whines with furrowed brows, pressing herself against his lips harder. He’s obsessed with her. Her lips are so soft, her body so pliant, he could kiss her for hours on end. 

She’s growing more and more desperate as their kiss grows hotter and hotter. Her hands on his shoulders start to wander, grazing over his tattooed chest, and she shuffles around on his lap, trying to wriggle closer to him. She’s getting that tingly feeling in her center that she only gets when she’s reading one of those books, and unconsciously, she starts grinding her center down on his lap. 

Harry lets out a strained groan, his hands immediately shooting down to hold her hips still. “Fuck,” he rasps, throwing his head back.

“Hm?” Y/n is out of it, chasing after his lips as he pulls away, completely unaware of Harry’s discomfort. She pouts at how his fingers are digging into her hips, preventing her from wriggling any closer to him when it’d felt so good! “What’s wrong?”

She threads her fingers through his hair, her nails scratching against his scalp, and tries to pull him back for a kiss – but he turns his head to the side, refusing. The abruptness leaves y/n disgruntled and confused. She’s panting, a bit breathless from how his tongue had been licking in her mouth, the electricity that had been flowing through her veins slowly fizzling away. Her lips are swollen, nearly bruised, and furrows her brows at the abrupt end to this >very nice kiss. 

"Need–" he licks his lips, "need t'take a second."

"Why?" she whines, staring down at his mouth. 

"M'bout to cum in my pants, sunshine. Gimme a bit." 

Her eyes widen. She looks down and sure enough… there’s the outline of his hard cock, a prominent bulge in his sweatpants. She’s never actually seen one in person and– gosh the size of it makes her tremble a little bit. Is that normal or is he just really big? He looks thick, and the tip of his cock is a significant length down his thigh. Why is her mouth watering? She swallows thickly and looks back up at him, like a deer caught in headlights.

She tries to give him some space, moving her hips back so that she’s not brushing against his erection… but even that small movement is painful for Harry, making him throw his head back with a loud groan. “I need to go to the bathroom,” Harry pants, hands on her hips, already lifting her off his lap. 

“What– oh!” she squeals as she’s suddenly thrown onto the couch.

She blinks. The bathroom door shuts. 

She’s never been more aroused in her life. 

+++

Harry has his hand down his sweatpants before he can even lock the door, fishing out his cock and palming himself with a deep groan. His pants slide down to midthigh as he spreads his own precum over his shaft, his fingers wrapped around himself in a tight fist. He pumps quickly, making sure to rub a thumb over his tip every once in a while, as that's one of the easiest ways to make himself cum. He wants this to be quick – he’s not in the bathroom jerking off because he wants an insane orgasm… he just wants his cock to stop hurting while he’s kissing his girlfriend! 

He throws his head back against the wall and thrusts his hips into his own hand, conjuring up all the images in his head – y/n’s pretty lips, slicked and swollen with his spit. Her disheveled hair, mussed up from his fingers. Her wide, moony eyes, her dreamy sighs and whimpers. Her cute bum in her tiny shorts, that had fit so nicely in the palm of his hand, that had jiggled so prettily when he lifted her onto his lap. His toes curl as he lets his thoughts get more explicit – how pretty would she look if she were the one jerking him off right now? If she was down on her knees with her tiny hand wrapped around his cock, pumping him and looking at his prick with those bambi eyes. What if she took him into her mouth? Laved her tongue around his tip the way his thumb is doing now? His biceps bulge as he jerks himself off, harder and faster, more cum leaking from his tip and making the glide smoother. If only he could fill up her mouth, cover her pretty lips with his cum…

His entire body shivers, long white streaks bursting from his cock and all over his fist. He bites his lip, refusing to let any sound escape the bathroom for y/n to hear. She’s not ready for… this. 

He looks at himself in the mirror– his cheeks are flushed, his hair is a mess, and his cock looks worn out. He washes his hands in the sink with soap, shamefully washing away the mess he made on his own hand, then splashes his face with water. His prick is still sensitive and he winces as he tucks himself back into his sweatpants. It’s barely been five minutes since he first entered the bathroom, meaning that he lasted a whopping… three minutes. 

She says nothing when he comes back, already back to reading her book. He lets out a sigh of relief. 

He stays firmly on his side of the couch for the rest of the night. 

+++

“Harry,” y/n moans.

Her hair is splayed out on Harry’s pillow underneath her head, Harry hovering right above her. He has one hand pressed on the bed to keep him above her, and the other on her hip, roaming up and down her body. One minute he’ll be cradling her ribcage delicately, and the next he’ll be gripping her thigh and hoisting it up and around his waist so that he can fit his hips in between hers.

Her hands are similarly roaming up and down his chest and his back, holding onto his shoulders and grabbing his biceps as he kisses her. Her back arches as his hand squeezes her bum, and a broken whimper filters between their lips. His tongue slips into her mouth when she whines, gliding against hers smoothly. And when he pulls off from the kiss, he lightly bites at her lower lip, tugging on it playfully before letting it bounce back into place. 

He buries his face in her neck, kissing down to her shoulder and over her collarbones, sucking lightly and then smoothing his tongue over the abused spots soothingly. His teeth nip and graze the thin skin of her throat, and his chest rumbles when she throws her head back to grant him more access. 

This is torture for him. 

It had started off so innocently, just the two of them watching Netflix together. His head was laying on her chest while they watched their movie, her fingers brushing through his hair (he loves it when she plays with his hair). But then – god, he’d been so stupid!!! He looked up at her, and saw her pretty face and her pretty eyes and her pretty lips… and he just wanted to kiss her so bad. One kiss wouldn’t hurt, he told himself!!!

He lifted his head from where his ear had been pressed against her breast, and leaned up to just press one sweet, innocent kiss to her lips. But then, one kiss turned into two, and two turned into three. He hated how she had to strain her neck and lean down to reach his lips, so he twisted around to make it easier for her. But then his neck started to hurt, so he pushed himself up so he was hovering above her. And now his dick is hard, and he’s grinding it down into her most intimate area.

He’s mentally bashing himself while kissing her – he should’ve had more self-control, he should pull away and go to the bathroom to sort himself…  but also he can’t stop kissing her. 

Y/n has zero complaints either, practically egging him on, begging him to go further. She threaded her fingers through his hair while they kissed, and wrapped her arms around him so that he wouldn’t pull away. She whimpered and whined prettily, fluttered her eyes when he kissed down her throat, arched her back into him and lifted her hips so that she could press herself into the area where he was obviously very hard.

He’s literally just a guy. How is he supposed to pull away when his soft and sweet girlfriend is pressing herself against her cock and moaning against his lips?

“Fuck,” his voice is strained and there’s a vein bulging in his neck as he takes a second to breathe. Y/n has learned well, and starts trailing kisses along his jaw while he catches his breath. She tries her hand at sucking marks on his neck, but finds herself too impatient to focus all her energy on one spot when she just wants to kiss all over his neck and cheeks! Her lips skim the corner of his mouth, pressing soft, teasing kisses. 

He breathes heavily, shutting his eyes and trying really, really hard to not cum in his pants.

Y/n makes it practically impossible though, whining “kiss me,” as her nails scratch deliciously at his scalp. Fire rushes through his veins at the sound of her voice and he nearly collapses on top of her.

“Baby…” he says, half warning and half pleading. She’s literal heaven on Earth. Her lips are like magnets, and when she skims her lips over his he can’t help but pucker to connect them in a kiss. She bites down on his lip, teasing him, and licks into his mouth, desperately wanting to feel his tongue gliding against hers again. 

She’s a riled up little thing, concupiscent and needy, eager to kiss for hours at a time. He’s had to invest in a jumbo sized vaseline to keep his lips hydrated with how overworked his lips are. And she’s naughty under her good girl, studious, bookworm persona. She tugs on his hair and leaves scratches on his back when they kiss, wraps her legs around him and lifts her hips to grind her softest areas against his hardness. She moans and whimpers and tells him how good he feels, presses her breasts up to his chest… god he can only imagine how she’ll act when he actually gets to touch her. 

His hand slides up her side, over her ribs and to her breast, palming it over her t-shirt. She loves being groped, apparently, always leaning into his touch whenever his hands pinch her tits teasingly or cup her ass. It makes her even needier for him, makes her more desperate to get rid of the clothes and jump straight in. Neither of them know how they’ve managed to go this long with only make outs and groping, when they’re just so obsessed with touching and feeling the other. It’s mostly only Harry’s romantic heart that has managed to keep them strong, who is absolutely adamant on giving y/n sweet and cherishable firsts. These hot makeouts are just a loophole around his rules.

Harry loses himself in her, lets her fill up all his senses. She’s all he can hear, all he can smell, all he can taste, and all he can touch. His mind is void of anything except for getting closer to sunshine, kissing her more and touching her more. Her tits are soft and warm, her bum is round and biteable, and her cute little tummy jumps whenever his fingers skim over it. He unconsciously grinds his hips into her center, the tip of his cock rubbing against her clit, from what he can feel through her thin shorts. His jaw goes slack every time he grinds himself against her, the pressure in his pants growing tighter and tighter– until he groans loudly above her, hiding his face in her chest as his entire body shudders and his arms grow weak. 

Y/n freezes, knowing that this particular grind of his hips was different from the rest. Instead of rolling his hips forward and backward, the way he’d been doing before, he presses his hips firmly against her and ruts forward in short jolts, hips twitching and abdomen clenching. A raspy groan leaves him, his cheeks red as cherries and his eyes hooded with pleasure. Y/n feels herself gushing at the thought of what just happened, and replays it in her head over and over and over again. Her voice cracks around a moan as he gives one final thrust against her, his hand squeezing around her tit firmly and erotically brushing against her nipple.

Their eyes meet, hers wide and blown out with a mix of innocent shock and filthy thoughts, while his are clear as the morning sky after a night of cleansing rain. He radiates post-orgasmic bliss.  

His cheeks are red like cherries and his eyes are lust-filled and hazy, hooded with pleasure. He radiates post-orgasmic bliss.

“Well, shit,” he chuckles at himself. He’s kind of embarrassed that he literally came in his pants by making out with his girlfriend, but for the most part he is just relieved that his balls aren’t bursting anymore. “Sorry, sunshine. I couldn’t– um, I couldn’t really control it.” He pushes himself up, feeling his own cum slowly against his thigh. “Are you okay?”

She nods, almost as if she’s in a trance. “I… want to do that again,” she whispers bashfully.

“Y’want to make me cum in m’pants again?” he asks with a soft, confused laugh.

“I-I just want to watch you… cum, again,” she hesitates around the word, feeling dirty and shy, despite how true the statement is. “Next time… next time, can I help?” she asks hopefully.

HIs eyes roll to the back of his head and he leans back down for a kiss.

“Y’gonna kill me, sunshine.”

+++

HOPE U LOVED IT!!!! :-) CHECK OUT MY PATREON FOR OTHER SNEAKIES AND BLURBS

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Idea for part 2 to lingerie or maybe a separate fic but luke convinces reader to let him take pictures of her in some of the lingerie so she can see how pretty she looks from his pov ☺️

ℒ𝒾𝓃𝑔ℯ𝓇𝒾ℯ 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝓉𝓌ℴ

PART 1, PART 3

Warnings- LOSER!LUKE AGENDA!! 18+, mdni! they are so couple goals.

“Ok, this one I saw, and I had to have it.” You said as you smiled, you stood in front of him and twirled around once again. It was a lot more scandalous, showing more skin and your cleavage barely covered.

His mouth was watering at this point, he just so desperately wanted to kiss you- touch you- anything really.

“It looks.. amazing. Probably the best one.” He nodded, reminding himself to keep eye contact and not let his eyes wander. He tried to keep his responses short and quick.

“Agreed.”

He felt embarrassed thinking about it. Would you think he was weird? Would you be creeped out and never talk to him again?

Fuck it.

You smiled and went to go change before he said your name. You turned around and looked at him, confused.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think… I could, take a picture…?”

Your eyes widened at that. The air grew thick with tension, and his voice cut through the silence after a little.

“Just- so that you can see how great you look from my point of view, you- you know?” He stuttered, anxious as he looked at you.

“Oh… okay. Sure. Why not?” You gave him another grin, and he smiled back. And you knew he had other intentions with the pictures, but it was Luke Castellan. The man you’ve had a crush on since you both were kids, the guy you were best friends with.

He took out his camera quickly, it's as if he had been waiting for this moment his whole life. He had been.

You stood, with a small smile on your face for the first one. It was mostly innocent. Then, he swears he would die when the poses got less innocent.

He swallowed, shaking the polaroids as they printed. Once they did, you sat right next to him, your bare thigh touching the denim of his jeans. He handed you them and you flipped through them.

"They're great. Ugh, I'm so glad I got you to do this. You're the best," You gave him another kiss on the cheek, his cheeks were tinted pink.

"Is that it?" he asked nervously. You nodded and you picked out a pair of pajamas, which was just a baggy shirt with some pajama pants.

"Could you... turn around? I don't feel like going in the bathroom." You were teasing him at this point, you wanted him to make a move already, plus it was fun seeing him flustered.

"Yeah... Of course." It was your cabin after all, he turned around, his hands on his knees as he fought against the urge to turn around.

While he was turned around, you quickly grabbed his bag, stuffing three of the best pictures he took into it. You quickly shoved it back in place and got dressed.

You sat back on the bed with him, talking for a while before the rest of the aphrodite cabin started pouring in.

"What's he doing in here?" One of your sisters asked.

"We were just talking." You said, he nodded and gave them each a small smile as they looked at him. He grew uncomfortable soon, however.

"I should probably get going, I'll see you tomorrow." He said, standing up quickly, leaving the cabin. You furrowed an eyebrow and followed after him.

"Wait, Luke!" You called his name; he turned around and looked at you, his bag slung on his shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Goodnight." You said, but he felt like there was more you wanted to say.

"You got out here, in the cold, to tell me goodnight?" He cocked his head to the side. You swallowed now and walked closer to him.

You both stared at each other for a moment, and he gazed into your eyes with such love, how could you resist him anymore?

As his hand reached for your face, your heart started racing. You both leaned in closer and closer until your lips met. It felt like a dream come true, but this was real. Your mind was blown away by the softness of his lips as you traced your finger over his scar. The moment was electric, and you couldn't believe this was actually happening.

"Is this real?" you asked shakily once your lips left his. He chuckled and nodded.

"Goodnight," he said, giving you one last kiss on your forehead before leaving.

As soon as you entered the Aphrodite cabin again, the girls around you looked at you, all expecting an explanation.

"I kissed him!" you squealed, screams erupt, and Luke could hear it as he was walking towards his own cabin, small smirk on his face.

And when he opened up his bag, reaching for his book, 3 polaroids were on top. He had a smile on his face as he looked through them.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Code of Conduct 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss has a difficult time keeping his personal life from bleeding into his work. 

Characters: Steve Rogers, this reader is known as Rosie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

“Are you sure you want to keep working?” You ask Mr. Rogers as you bring in the printed report he requested. 

“Yeah, can’t really go home...” he mutters as he takes the report with a brittle smile. 

“I guess, but you could... take some time for yourself. I can call your one o’clock,” you offer. 

“Rosie, you’re wonderful. But I need the distraction.” 

“Okay, I—can I get you anything? A tea? When I feel down, I have this lavender chamomile in my desk that helps me feel better.” 

He looks at you, his blue eyes sparkling. You really can’t handle him crying. His eyes are already pink and puffy from the tears he hid in his closed office. 

“You’re so sweet,” he sniffs. 

“Look that over and I’ll steep the tea,” you insist. 

You leave him before your ingrained sympathy can have you joining his pity party. You feel awful for him but lost too. You’re not sure how to handle all this. Relationships have always been a bit of a mystery to you. You have lot of friends but never found anyone to be more than. 

You take your time in the break room. You smell like vinaigrette. It’s another reminder of the chaotic morning. The kettle pops and you pour the water over the tea bag. You bob it up and down with the string and make your way back to Mr. Roger’s office. 

He thanks you as you set it down and warn him it’s hot. He runs his thumb up and down the edge of a page then looks up at you.  

“Anything else, sir?” 

“You... you said you feel down sometimes?” He asks. 

“Oh, well, yeah, but everyone does.” 

“But... about what? Why would you feel down?” He lowers the stapled papers onto the desk. 

“Just... things, sir. Nothing big. It’s just the way people are.” 

“You-- you have everything, Rosie. You’re so bright and bubbly. What could make you sad?” He pivots his chair towards you. “Who do I gotta give a talking to around here?” 

“No one, sir. Really. I guess I just need a pick-me-up from time to time.” 

He nods and looks down. You hover on the other side of his desk. You should get back to work but you don’t know if you should leave him. 

“I get lonely too.” He lifts his chin up. “Even when Peggy’s right next to me. I get it.” 

“Sir?” 

“You said you’re not married, right? I—I'm sorry if I assumed--” he cringes. “Wow, I’m so embarrassing.” 

“It’s... it’s fine. I have friends and we have lots of fun. My friend Missie, she’s really cool. She lies to tie-dye. We do that sometimes. And you,” you perk up, “you have Mr. Barnes, right? He told me that you twohave known each other forever.” 

“He told you that?” Rogers tilts his head. 

“Well, sure, he’s a bit chatty when he stops by.” 

“He is?” A brow arches curiously and ripples his forehead. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re so easy to talk to. Even with someone like him.” 

“Erm, I guess. I just try to see the positive. You know. Um, I don’t mean to presume because I can’t begin to know but I know Peggy loves you. And you have a good job and you can fix this, Mr. Rogers. You could try counselling or I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t know much,” you shrug. 

“We did counselling,” he picks up the mug and blows the steam away, inhaling the scent. “She stormed out of that too. We’ve tried a lot of things. A second honeymoon, a vow renewal, everything.” He looks down and his shoulders slump. He looks tiny even though he’s a big man. 

“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to overstep.” 

“You didn’t,” he inhales and pushes his shoulders straight. “You’re right, I can do something. I can put myself first. I think... I think I need to look into leaving.” 

You blink. You’re speechless. It feels like too much. Not his suggestion, just that he’s saying it to you. You’re fine getting him coffee and sorting his schedule but you haven’t been trained for this. 

“You should do what’s best for you, sir.” 

He nods and tastes the tea. “It’s good, Rose,” He sets the cup down. “Thanks. You’re... you’re too good to me.” 

“It’s just tea. I’ll let you enjoy it in peace and I gotta get back to it.” You smile. “Let me know if you need anything else.” 

“Will do,” he utters glumly. 

You slowly turn away and stride out. You feel a tugging in your stomach. Like guilt. You feel bad leaving him like that. Yet, you don’t know what else you can do for him. Missie would know. She always knows how to make things better. Maybe you could ask her but it’s a long story. 

Hm. 

You take out your phone and open up the conversation. You giggle at the kitten pictures she sent you last night. It takes several attempts to get it right; ‘hey, Miss, what would you do for someone going through a break-up? Tryna do something nice. Thx <3’ 

You’re sure she’ll come up with something, even without all the details. You tuck your phone away and turn back to your screen. As you do, an email pings into Mr. Rogers’ inbox.  

You click on it and open the attachment. The legal letterhead has your blood cold. Before you can react, you hear Mr. Rogers exclaim.

Oh no, he’s already seen it. Divorce papers. 

[satoruhour]

LEGIT JUST DASHED HERE FKJAKJLASDFKJL

TA! Nanami won't leave my brain so pleaseeee 🥺just him assisting you with lab reports by eating you out

❄️

(ANYTHING BUT) LAB HELP

a/n: icy you got me thinkin about my own TA and the failures in which i am too scared to cop him 😭😭😭 / this was purely fuelled by my own carnal need for nanami after last week’s episode because WHEEEEEWWW !

wc: 5.5k

warnings: fem!reader, TA!nanami, reader is a big simp for nanami but vice versa too, reader has long hair in this, slight age gap? since nanami is a TA (27 / 22), m! masturbation, fantasising, semi-public masturbation, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, fingering, hair pulling, little praise, degradation, use of ‘slut’, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, implied multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut

the first time your TA walked in, your jaw drops. with a face and body like that, he should rightfully be in the modelling industry, not teaching you about dissecting and suturing mice and looking at atoms under a microscope.

all you know is that nanami kento was just like every teaching assistant — attending lectures just like the rest of the students, taking down notes for his tutorial and lab sessions, answering curious emails from everyone — but every interaction you had with this man was anything but normal, or at least that’s what you felt.

you’ve never viewed someone in such a deranged and filthy way before: pulling on his blonde hair and taking off that hideous cheetah print tie and telling him to his face that wearing a full suit while teaching makes him insanely older than he actually is; and also maybe after that, to push him right down to your cunt where he’d eat you out like you deserve.

“i just don’t get why he needs to use a suit at twenty seven years old just to teach — you’re doing your masters, like calm down a little.” you mumble more to yourself than your friend, but she likes every juicy detail you have about this attractive TA you keep talking about even if you sound like you hate him with how much you talk about the damn suit all the time.

but your friend only knows that if you could get his trousers, suit jacket, tie and shirt off of him, you would in a blink of an eye.

“maybe he wants to impress.”

your mouth twists, “who? only person he should be impressing is me.”

it’s all in good fun, with the way you’re talking — in reality, you don’t know what you’d do if the opportunity really presented itself to you. gossip, your legacy (or shame) carried by mouth, expulsion from the university, there were countless of unfortunate things if you do decide to go for the teaching assistant meant purely to help students in better understanding the material.

but it wasn’t one-sided. all those glances you thought nanami was sending you weren’t imagined, nor was it because you thought he was squinting due to bad eyesight. he remembers your name from the first tutorial he taught you, caught you lingering around the lecture hall, helps you a little too much during lab sessions and every time, he’s inexplicably drawn to you and your aura.

“good afternoon, ladies,” the familiar deep and collected voice snaps you out of the conversation, heart beating a hundred miles. you were in no way prepared for this, but you’re grateful for even one meeting out of class. your friend is insufferable though — from your peripheral you can see her giving the two of you a sick grin, “any chance i could ask for directions to this particular room?”

that was another thing; nanami wasn’t from this university. having completed his degree in another, he took his masters in the one you’re attending, wanting a breath of fresh air from the four years of his time in kyoto. that’s what you remember from his introduction, amongst many other things: he liked neutral colours, he’s interested in the philosophy of aesthetics, and he loved bread.

“babe, i’m going to head off for a class,” lies. she had no classes today at all, “see you tomorrow!” she bows briefly to nanami who only shoots her a tender smile and you turn to the side to bite your fist. you’ve become good at containing your reactions, though.

“oh! nanami-san, of course. headed there for a class?”

what kind of stupid question is that? of course he w—

“i’m heading there for a seminar, actually, starts in about,” he checks his watch, “10 minutes. the uni invited an external professor to give a talk that merges both the philosophical aspects of questioning life alongside the functions of the body, sparking thoughts of science and philosophy. thought it’d be interesting.”

you swallow and you swear you can feel your core pulsing. hot, intelligent and always pushing the boundaries and capacity of learning? you could only thank the gods that it was a cooler day, not being able to do anything if you actually do melt into a puddle.

“y-yeah! yeah, i know where it is.” you don’t, but the rooms are usually lined up pretty nicely, and you know you would be able to guide him successfully without much trouble; but when you’re checking the seminar room, you realise that they may have changed venues.

“crap . . five minutes. nanami-san, do you think maybe they sent a follow-up email with the change in location?” you’re more on edge than nanami is because you usually don’t like to be late for anything, recalling the jumble of numbers and letters he showed you earlier and lining them with the label plates outside the room.

“uh— oh, shit. yeah, i might’ve shown you the wrong email.” your jaw drops when you see the new venue.

“that’s . . on the other side of campus, nanami-san.”

“how long will it take?”

you wince at the disappointment on his face, “if you take the campus bus, at least fifteen minutes.”

nanami’s understandably mad at himself for his own mistake, knowing he’d miss a good chunk of the talk whilst travelling there, but he’s distracted from his self-loathing — taken aback at the quickness in which you offer to drive him.

“uh . . it’s probably maybe eight minutes there by car. my car’s parked close by if you want a lift—”

and nanami thinks it’s simultaneously the perfect and terrible day to send his car to the mechanics and settle for public transport. perfect because he might accept your offer to be close to you, terrible because he would much rather you sit in the passenger sit of his car rather than the other way around.

nanami forgets to be modest in your presence, so he accepts it without a second beat and follows you in a jog to the parking lot. there are scattered vehicles, possibly belonging to professors and maybe students, and the both of you come to an everyday looking corolla.

“okay! unlocked. i’ll try to speed and get you there in four minutes.” nanami can only manage a soft thank you, touched by your generosity and even more drawn by the determination in your face. with a turn of the ignition key, the man clutches onto the seatbelt as you lurch forward with the acceleration, and then you’re taking off.

you’re not the best driver, driving past yellow lights and terrible at changing lanes, but you get the job done. coming to rest in front of the humanities block, you’re arriving with the seminar starting just two minutes ago, and nanami looks at you like you just moved the moon and stars for him.

“thank you, (y/n)-san, truly,” he’s out of breath, maybe a little shaken up from the drive but it’s nothing he isn’t used to (gojo sucks too), “how can i repay you?”

you shake your hand, “a-ah, no it’s nothing. it was just an eight minute drive compressed into four.”

“no, really, let me pay back the favour.”

you bit your lip — you can’t possibly say the thing that’s on your mind. he would report you, you would have to be kicked out, your future crumbling before your eyes — you go for the tamer request.

“lunch, one day, then.”

nanami smiles at you and you feel like it’s cupid shooting his shot straight into your heart. you hardly see the man, smile, ever, so to have a genuine one directed at you made you squeeze your thighs together. there’s hope bubbling in nanami’s heart when he sees the effect of his smile: a glint in your eye and the quickened breaths, he may have thought your thighs move, too, but he didn’t have the balls to glance down to the one place he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.

“how ’bout right after the seminar?” fuck. you’re grinning now and you see a little of nanami’s teeth in an amused smile.

“sure, nanami-san,” adrenaline sends you reeling, eyes boring so tirelessly into his that you wish he’d understand all the things you want him to do to you. he peeks a quick glimpse of your lips as they lick it before unbuckling his seatbelt, popping open the passenger door to head out. your hand instinctively goes up to stop him, “or should i say . . passenger princess.”

that prompts a full grin out of your TA, who lets out an attractive chuckle before leaving from your car, “sure, whatever you want to call me.”

you’re driving away happily, kicking your feet once you’re parked in another car park and giggling to yourself. unbeknownst to you of the small little thing nanami says after, “although i’d like it if you call me yours.”

the spiral starts from there. it was approximately two hours — you have two hours of going back to the dorms to choose something you knew you looked good in while continuing to text your friend in excitement. it was chaos between the hours of eleven to one pm, rummaging through your closet to find something suitable. you went through many rounds of outfits and with each photo to your friend you were losing hope.

“‘let’s just stick with the first’?” you scoff loudly after reading out her feedback, typing out a reply to your friend. it sounded a little agitated but you can’t help but heart the message wishing you a good luck.

before you know it, you’re hearing a knock on the window, greeted with the very nice sight of his suit jacket now removed and his blue shirt rolled up at the sleeves. it’s like he’s heard your thoughts too because even his ugly tie is bundled up in his hand.

“the AC wasn’t working.” he simply explains, once he’s in the car and he appreciates your gesture of turning yours to the max. you let your eyes rake over his figure, the pull of his shirt that looks too tight for him and the lines of his forearms, before he finally gets settled in and begs your eye contact.

“bummer,” you click your tongue, “but well, any places you have in mind?”

you start the car, pulling out of the lobby and nanami playfully hums, “not going to listen to your passenger princess’ struggles? do you hate women perhaps?”

“nah, i’m a toxic man who doesn’t care about his girl’s life.” that draws a laugh out of nanami, who sinks more into the seat. he’s more relaxed here than in class, than in lectures and it’s a nice sight to behold.

he echoes your sentiment with a small smile, “bummer.”

you both settle on an eatery pretty easily, with nanami keeping his promise of paying for your lunch (you made sure to pay back just a little with some bread, though, because how does a simple car lift equate to a whole lunch?). he was everything you thought him out to be: insanely insightful and smart; on a more physical level, jacked with such a pretty voice to the point you let him ramble about the seminar. it was the most animated you’ve seen him act.

since then, he’s become more open to accepting food items and hangouts with his students, although they never really hit like the first lunch he’s had with you. it was detrimental to his teaching, really, even now where he glares at your lab partner who you’re laughing with. it makes his stomach turn with jealousy, even as you exchange nudges while completing your worksheets.

he figures he can’t do anything but wait for you to initiate, mind muddled with thoughts of you and the possibility you were just being a nice person from what you did before, until you’re interrupting him from his rage-fuelled cleaning of the lab with a tap to his shoulder.

“nanami-san?” the students have filed out by now, a shell of what used to be a lab full of students groaning at the innards of the rats they were cutting open and the whispers of confusion at how to sew them back up.

“what is it?” he turns around too fast, almost knowing over a beaker by accident and when his hand goes over to catch it, you stabilise it as well. your hand encases his, the both of you resisting the urge to smile while you try to remember the question you so desperately tried to think of; anything to just talk to him.

“this is about um . . last week’s experiment about gas chromatography.”

“yeah?” nanami leans against the table, arms crossed and all and suddenly looking too buff that you feel a little lightheaded. his eyes skim over your body, a tight fitting shirt that accentuates your tits whilst you have some yoga pants on and if he bent you over, he’s confident he can see your pussy lips from behind the fabric. he knows it’s because you had a yoga class this morning, because he’s too invested in your life and you willingly give him what he wants.

“if the two mixtures contained the same alcohols but filled up to different amounts, do you know a method via the gas chromatogram to distinguish between the two mixtures?”

“uhm—”

nanami looks collected but he is sweating, approached at such a random time that he doesn’t have time to prepare except stutter through his answer. you don’t notice how you’ve been stepping closer and closer to him, either, until you’re an inch from one another.

“oh! alright, that makes sense.”

“anything else?” your TA looks down at you, hands just itching to bring you in. the lab is so quiet, now, save for the shuffling feet of the students outside but thankfully the windows are opaque. you could probably hear a pin drop if it wasn’t for your hearts pounding so loudly in your chests. your finger twitches with your incomplete lab report.

“right— well, yes, i was asking if you c—”

“babe!” the lab door slides open at the same time your friend calls out to you and you cough in embarrassment. nanami only clears his throat as the two of you step away and your cheeks burn, and he has to loosen the tie around his neck just for a bit.

“you told me to wait for you outside, right? well you were taking too long and . .” the other only continues his ‘task’ of cleaning up, looking anywhere but your direction as she continues to ramble, but he doesn’t miss the look of recognition on your friend’s face.

she mouths to you— i’m so sorry for interrupting, before she has half a mind to say something out loud and you’re clasping your hand over her mouth and ushering her outside hurriedly.

“shush— okay, thanks mr. nanami-san!”

he only waves a hand in farewell, but as soon as the door closes he collapses onto the seat. with head in hands, his mind wanders to the proximity in which the two of you were engaged in and the very, very uncomfortable boner in his pants. he’s so big that everyone can probably see it, frozen in place as he gets a sick idea.

“yeah, i told you to wait for me but not to barge in like that— oh my god! you should go on the records for having the worst timing ever.” you aren’t entirely disappointed, but it did seem like a good opportunity. you’re partly glad, too, because your mind now feeds you countless scenarios of nanami’s expressions turning into disgust and shock.

“dang, i’m sorry, but we do have to get going if we want to make it in time for that cafe event.”

your mouth twists, “yeah, i guess so.”

“if it makes you feel better, maybe he’ll want you more after this interruption.” she winks and you shove her playfully.

“now, you’re just trying to justify your bad timing!”

in that short time, you’re unaware that nanami has unzipped his pants and pulled out his hard-on through the hole of his boxers, insanely hard and body burning with regret. “lord, forgive me.”

he imagines you propped up on the (clean) lab tables, feet on his shoulders as he eats you out from below, or even hitting it from the back as he “helps” you with your lab report in the dorm, knowing damn well you won’t get anything done, or maybe even your mouth full of his throbbing cock sucking him off as he teaches.

nanami strokes his length in the empty lab room, knowing there wasn’t any classes any time soon from how often he’s looked at the timetables. there, he simply pumps himself under the table, biting at his shirt sleeves to muffle his grunts that he drools. it drops to the table, but he’s caring not one bit, because the feel of his hands just feel too good against him and the images of you only get lewder and lewder.

“s-shit . .” nanami swears quietly, hoping the slickness of his pre-cum doesn’t give him away, squeezing and moving his hands faster along his cock. his tip’s so sensitive — what would your mouth or pussy feel like? would you have let him rip your tights and fuck you silly just now? his hips are bucking into his hands, now, thinking of turning your sweet, sweet smile into something of pure sex, and before he knows it, he’s shooting his load onto the floor with a loud groan, thumbing his tip shakily. nanami’s breaths are ragged, guilt burning him alive while he washes his hand at the sink beside the tables and crouches to the floor, cleaning up after himself — nanami definitely wouldn’t be able to face you after this.

he was right. his mind was flooded with you in obscene positions and your saccharine voice twisted into moans and whines, he wonders if you taste as good as the pineapple juice he had the other day. even in tutorials, the students were wondering why the AC was turned up so high, because one glance from you made him hot and bothered. he liked to book it straight out of class, too, directing all questions to his email which he highlights very clearly in his slides, muttering something about being on a tight deadline with his thesis for his masters, but it’s never that serious — he’s usually heading back to quell the uncomfortable boner in his pants.

“prof? nanami-san?” you knew you’d find him in here in the professor’s office, probably going over lesson plans. your professor only shoots you a friendly greeting as nanami turns in his chair, he’s always happy to see his students while nanami swallows when you’re back in your yoga getup. it’s been a week, already?

“need anything, (y/n)?”

“oh, i need more of nanami-san, since it’s relating to my lab reports.” your professor usually conducted lab sessions, but nanami was the one to help with the reports, conveying the information of what to write and whatnot; well, it was also easier to talk someone who isn’t so intimidating and cool as your professor.

“kento, help me lock up after you’re done, alright?” your professor throws him the keys and you stifle a laugh at the way he stumbles out the door, “going home early to the wife, ahah . . guess i’m falling for her over again.”

that draws a laugh from both of you, bidding him goodbye with a smile on your faces before the mood turns tense again, and nanami looks up at you from his chair. you take him in: the manspread, the head tilt, the intentional (but you don’t know that) deep voice.

“yes, (y/n)?”

you gulp, remembering what your friend said — keep eye contact, slowly walk up to him, keep your voice nonchalant — it was easier said than done.

“cat got your tongue?”

you sputter and exclaim, “no— no i’m okay. i just wanted to ask about the alcohols used in the experiment last week.”

“ah, you’re still on that?”

his tone is laced with a slight disdain, possibly from how much he hates how you make him feel, coming in here to ask about your stupid lab report when he know you’re a bright student who hardly needs any help, coming in here like the two of you don’t want each other.

“y-yes, nanami-san.”

he stands and easily towers over you. from here, you can see his broad shoulders take up his shirt as he walks you back, buttons unbuttoned to reveal a bit of skin. you feel like prey being cornered, but nanami still has some sense of chivalry when he wraps an arm around your waist to prevent you from hitting the frosted glass door.

“mind telling me why your lab report from over two weeks ago is taking so long to be completed?”

reality seeps in for just a moment and his hand removes itself, hovering just over your body, “we still . . have a week to finish it up, nanami-san . .”

your TA takes a deep breath and you think that maybe that was the wrong answer, but all nanami does is step even closer to you and your hands have no choice but to rest on his toned chest. he can only hope no one can see your figure when you’re pressed flat against the frosted glass, but he knows this part of the uni is a little deserted this late in the afternoon.

“that’s not wrong . .” his voice is down to a whisper, closing his eyes for a moment when your hands travel over his chest. when he opens them again, they’re more than just the pretty, hazel ones you like to fantasise about, stained with a darker sort of lust that involves taking you, even if it meant doing it in the professor’s office. “but you’re always submitting it pretty early on, aren’t you? what changed, hm?”

you can feel his breath on your lips, wishing he would just take the first step because frankly, your pussy is throbbing and your body is already leaning into him even without his hand on your back. it feels natural like that.

“i got distracted.”

nanami’s breath moves from your lips to your neck, and you cheer in your head as he plants a gentle kiss there, but it’s not quite what you want. he hums into the crook of your neck, torturing you with wet kisses and sucking lightly.

“by what? your friend? or perhaps it’s some external commitment that’s taking up a lot of your time?” nanami already knows the answer but he enjoys the way you squirm. “what is it?”

by now, your hands are trailing up his body, wrapping around his neck and playing with his undercut. his skin is so soft and he smells so damn good, and he sighs at your hands.

“by someone, actually.” you bite the bullet, forcibly removing him from your neck which is definitely starting to show the obvious blue black on the skin there. his hands this whole time have been placed against the door behind you, but the carnal need is too prominent that he wraps that same arm around your middle. the other, on your nape; the sheer size of his hand makes you whine and nanami smiles at that.

“mind telling me who is it? maybe i could give them a good talk, tell them to stop tormenting my smart girl.”

that draws out a visceral reaction from you, melting into his arms at the simple praise. nanami helps you a little, leaning in with an expression as needy as yours.

“you’re gonna talk to yourself?” a laugh is the last thing you hear before he crashes his lips against yours, a hand smartly going to the door to flip the lock before he pulls you flush against him. you moan softly when you feel his hard-on, against your front, manhandled easy by nanami’s arms as he whips you around to walk you to your professor’s desk.

“do you think he’ll sue us?” nanami kisses down your neck with him between your legs, hands fondling every inch of your body while you grind up against his pelvis. with such thin material such as your yoga tights between you, it feels so damn good.

“at most he’ll remove me as TA . .” as he speaks, you can feel the vibrations along your skin, legs instinctively bringing him closer. he doesn’t let you, instead pulling away from your body and goes to his knees, seeing just how soaked you are. he thanks god you weren’t wearing black, because there’s a wet patch that leaks too much — it’s clear you didn’t bother to wear underwear at all. “but that is if he finds out about this, right?”

you smile, feet pushing at his back towards your dripping cunt and you moan softly when he licks at your pussy through the fabric.

“yeah— yeah i guess so,” you’re then expecting his hands to pull at your waistband and you lift your hips knowingly, but you hear a stark riiip! that echoes throughout the office and you gasp, too focused on his pretty face to notice he’s dug his fingers into the yoga tights to tear it at your centre. the action turns you on, entirely sure you felt your pussy flutter at the sheer strength that he had.

“i’ll buy you new ones, baby,” nanami presses a gentle kiss against your clit and you shiver at the contact, hot breath threatening your demise by his hand, “they’re of terrible quality, by the way.”

you huff, “yeah, you kinda ripped it, nanami-san. plus, what’s terrible — not in quality but in looks — is your tie.”

nanami chuckles, caressing your inner thighs with gentle fingers, blowing lightly on your cunt, “personal vendetta against cheetahs?”

that sends shivers along your whole body, “n-no, just don’t really like the look of it.”

nanami hums, “i’m wounded.”

“you’ll live.”

he only laughs again, “okay, enough talking. i’m starving.” and starving he was — he latches his mouth onto your clit like a vice, sucking and flicking his tongue relentlessly you have no choice but to cry out his name. “taste so fucking sweet,” the sudden swear catches you off-guard, paired with the rasped voice and your hips willingly hump his mouth, “pussy made for me.”

“don’t say shit like that . .” you whine, embarrassed at the filthiness of his words and yet you’re sat here on a desk, pushing your sex more and more into his lips. “it’s embarrassin’.”

nanami clicks his tongue, “you’re still here.”

“yeah, shut up.” you push him further into your cunt to silence him, a loud moan leaving your lips as nanami slobbers over you — you’re so wet, spilling onto the floor. without warning, nanami slips a finger into you, easing it in and the sheer thickness of it prompts more mewls from you.

“k—kento . .” you hear nanami groan at the first name basis, shoving his finger deeper into you. he pumps it as his tongue works overtime, the slickness of which your pussy sounds out echoing throughout the room. “i’m c-clos—”

that seems to fuel nanami further, memorising how your body feels under him. you clench repeatedly around his finger, thighs twitching against him while your whimpers increase in volume, just like your incoherent babbles.

“i’m g’nna— kento, i’m c—” your back arches when you gush all over his face, juices squirting and making a mess out of his hair. nanami groans into your sopping pussy, slurping up your arousal shamelessly as you continue to give him everything of you. you’re shaking around him, moans slowly dwindling due to shame. by now, you’ve soaked through the bottom of your tights, letting him rip the seams for a little more access.

“wanna hear you, baby.” he easily multitasks, turning you around while removing his underwear, looking back at him while you shimmy your ass back into him. with a low moan, nanami drags his tip over your folds, collecting your cum and pushing it in with it. the stretch makes your jaw drop and legs tremble, pussy still sensitive from the previous orgasm.

you hold on to the wooden desk to the best of your ability but your iron grip makes the wood creak a little; it isn’t long before nanami starts moving.

“f-fuck . . you’re so tight,” the lewdness of the situation, your ruined tights, your ass moving with the force of his hips has him gripping your hips harsher than intended. his cock is just so fat, hitting your spots effortlessly as he rams into you from behind, “will this be enough motivation for you to finish that lab report, hm?” your perked up ass is receiving all the abuse from his pelvis, rutted into with pure primal need as the slaps of his balls against you gets louder and louder, just like your moans.

“g-gonna need more than this, kento—!” you’re whining as he reaches around to rub at your clit, messy and fast, surely drawing marks down the once flawless wooden desk. he just hopes there’s no one who requires the professor’s assistance because there was a clear indication that the office was open with the shining ceiling light but he was in no condition to answer any questions without panting.

nanami pushes down your lower back, cockhead hitting your spots over and over, “need more? of course you do, fuckin’ slut.” it’s a total 180 from the gentle way he’s kissed you earlier — a choked whine and a clench of your pussy tells him you like it . “oh . . she’s cock drunk already, huh?”

“yesyesyes! mmff— kento, please . .” he pulls on your hair from behind, made easy by the ponytail you had it in and you moan at the mixture of pain and pleasure. he takes it a little easier, resting his large palm at your neck and pulling, together with your hair. nanami sucks at the same spot as earlier, and the overwhelming sensations has you both arching your back and fucking yourself back onto him.

“pretty arch you got here, darling,” he pants out, fucking so hard into you with his support that your hands don’t even need to rest on the table. nanami knows you’re already close by the way you’re unresponsive, mindless babbling leaving your mouth while you let him use your limp body. “is it all for m-me?”

“mhmh— it is, it is—” you’re fucked senseless, letting him turn your head to meet him in a sloppy kiss. by now your pussy juices are spurting all over the place, staining the floor and table, dripping down his balls where with every slam of his cock you can here the wet pap! pap! pap!’s of it.

“y—yeah i know it is; that’s all you are, aren‘t you? a little cocksleeve for me.” nanami groans out, letting go entirely before wrapping his arms around you and trapping you between his front and the table. he’s flush against your back, thrusts faltering with each plunge into your warm, tight pussy as he feels you clench tirelessly and you don’t even to say it before you’re jolting in his hold.

“cumming, i’m cumming . . fuuuck . .” your body is so sensitive, shaking around his cock that continues to move into you. you cum all over him, listening to the dirty whispers he’s dumping into your ears.

“oh . .” nanami groans, “that’s a good little slut, s-shit—” your hips continue to move even though your brain tells you to stop, hands making terrible effort at reaching for him.

“wan’ you to cum in me, kentoo—” your grip on his forearm is tight, pleading with your doe eyes and small voice that has nanami grunting out in a dilemma, but your pussy’s too warm that he cums suddenly. his voice reaches a higher register, stuttering pelvis rutting into you with the intent of breeding you; he pumps you full of his seed, ropes upon ropes of white filling your womb. it’s so thick that you shiver again, yelping softly when he pulls out.

“look at that . .” nanami marvels at the amount of cum he’s dumped into you, using a finger to scoop it up before pushing it back in that you jump from the coldness of his finger. “a smart girl turned so dumb just from cock.” you give him an intoxicated smile, lazy and hooded as you lay limp on the table.

“only for your cock, nanami-san . .” you lick a stripe up the palm of your hand and he indulges you by stepping closer. he moans softly as your hand makes contact with his shaft, “or should i say . . sir?”

nanami ended up driving you back to your dorm, helping you to your room from how sore you were after that.

[retrocesosdestacion]

ALCOHOLIC LIES. | keira walsh

keira walsh x williamson!reader

genre: minor funny fluff, surprised love.

warnings: leah being made a fool, reader leah's younger sister, without many touches, not a romance-focused fic, drunk r.

notes: finally started writing again, i really wanted to write keira and r totally in love but i didn't have a better idea, soo i just made leah and r fight + defending her girlfriend. request

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: It's okay to date your sister's friend, right? Just keep it a secret... If you can.

“Every day I fall in love with you more and more. Except yesterday, yesterday you were pretty annoying.”

Earl E. Bird

❝ Hey, enough of that now, [reader]. ❞ Keira said as she removed the glass of alcohol from your fingers.

Reddened cheeks, sore expressive marks from the smile printed for so long and of course, the smell of the classic beer between the lips.

❝ Just one more round, please. ❞ The sly tone came out deliberately from your mouth, while you firmly grabbed one of the english's arms.

❝ Leave the child. It's been a while since she touched a bottle of alcohol. ❞ Stanway said between chuckles, also drinking.

❝ No?! Leah will kill me if she sees that I let her drink so much. ❞ It was very clear how desperate she was. ❝ And well… You know. ❞

❝ About the fact that she's going to go crazy not just because of this? ❞ The other english asked.

❝ Exactly. ❞

❝ I already said that Leah doesn't have to interfere in my life. ❞ You grumbled at your girlfriend’s negligence.

❝ Don't say it like that... ❞ Walsh was practically defending the english defender's side.

In fact, you were a little to blame for this whole situation and Keira was right. You should have told your sister from the first day you started dating.

And that's been five months.

It could even be a record, you could never keep a secret for that long. One day or another, Leah will find out.

❝ What the fuck are you whispering my name now? ❞ A mature and feminine voice rose from the beginning of the division between the living room and the kitchen.

❝ Nothing of your interest. ❞ You shout louder than usual.

Georgia and Keira burst into giggles at your sudden cheer.

The four of you were in Stanway's apartment, which was one of the main meeting points for drinks almost every weekend.

Leah and you were the famous dynamic duo of sisters, while the blonde english has a very strong personality, you are the complete opposite.

Seriously, it was actually a shock to Stanway when you took on Keira; You had gotten a girlfriend even before your older sister.

You two were also mostly known for fighting a lot; not just on the pitch. The defender is a completely protective woman when it comes to you.

Maybe because of her protective parental instinct; the fear of being hurt or even for reasons that Leah never told you.

And currently, Leah knowing about you and Keira would probably be the worst thing in the world. First, you lied to her and second, you're dating one of her friends.

❝ Gossiping about others is bad, you know? ❞ The older english made fun of your whispering to the girls, while bringing another bowl of snacks and placing it on top of the central table.

❝ I thought you said you didn’t care about other people’s opinions? ❞ You replied back.

❝ Shut up. ❞ Despite everything, Leah sometimes had a typical stupid attitude. ❝ Didn't you say you had already stopped drinking for today? ❞

Leah looked at Keira across the table, indirectly expecting some answer. After all, she was the one in charge of taking care of you.

❝ I tried. ❞ Walsh defended herself.

❝ Can you stop being like this? ❞ Your lips gestured in a sullen tone.

❝ There are two people older than you here and neither can take a drink from you. ❞ Leah was at least right.

❝ She's not seventeen anymore, Leah. ❞ Stanway opined. ❝ And theoretically it is you who should do this. ❞

Keira turned her eyes to you, eyes that conveyed the only understandable message: begging to stop drinking in Leah's company.

Pout with the lower lips, gradually turning into a short smile. Walsh's concern and advocacy was incredibly adorable.

It's a shame you can't give her a kiss in return.

❝ Okay, do whatever you want, then. ❞ The older blonde clearly didn't want to stress about the whole situation. The responsibility is yours from now on.

❝ Sheesh, you are worse than mom. ❞ You bantered.

❝ Fuck you? ❞ Leah grumbled, snacking on a snack from the bowl.

❝ You go. ❞ You countered.

It slowly turned into an exchange of insults, Walsh and Stanway just watched.

❝ You get ridiculously boring when you drink. ❞

❝ And you don't even have to touch alcohol to know that about you. ❞ That clearly must have hurt Leah inside. Mainly because of her open-mouthed expression.

Georgia tried to put an end to this. ❝ Can you two stop— ❞

❝ Get someone to be your personal babysitter before you say anything. ❞ The English defender spoke louder.

❝ I already have it. ❞ You said without thinking twice.

A regretful silence fell in the living room. And within seconds, you realized the shit you had said; your eyes almost explained.

It was very clear the reductive fear and surprise that hit Keira, especially because her face slowly turned towards you, in disbelief at what you said.

Everything went down the drain.

Stanway was different, she giggled. Because she knew exactly what was coming. ❝ Oh, shit. ❞ She murmured between giggles.

❝ Huh? ❞ It was a pretty loud noise, to be realistic. Eyebrows raised, lips half-open, Leah gradually seemed to squint, trying to understand. ❝ How is that? ❞

It took you exactly seven seconds to formulate some justification. ❝ I meant… ❞

❝ …You. ❞ You cleared your throat before saying that.

And Leah clearly didn't buy it.

❝ Shut up, liar. ❞ Williamson slowly came back to reality. ❝ Who? ❞

❝ Who what? ❞ Don't look to Keira, don't look to Keira, don't look to Keira. Play dumb.

❝ Don't act stupid. ❞ Leah replied.

Walsh kept contact with the glass on the table, touching her index finger to the rim of the glass as she begged you not to say anything. The last thing Keira would want was to die in Stanway's messy apartment.

Leah looked at Georgia. What no one told you is that Stanway can't keep secrets in front of Williamson. ❝ Did you know that? ❞

❝ Yes…? ❞ She replied.

And the defender looked at you again. Now worse, you told everyone in your social circle except Leah.

❝ You too? ❞ Referencing Walsh.

Anyone could confirm that she was very nervous. She avoided contact at first instance, and as Keira was at your side; her free fingers played with yours, anxiously under the table.

She just nodded in agreement.

❝ Why didn't you fucking tell me? ❞ Leah grumbled in her own way.

❝ Because you would be harassing me my whole life. ❞ You answered for Keira. In the first few weeks from now on, Williamson will make fun of you a lot. ❝ And you are very threatening. ❞

❝ No, I'm not. ❞ She defends herself. You were turning Leah into a children's story villain.

You looked back at Keira. The alcohol was like a river in your body, alcohol was so effective that it made you the most shameless person in the world. And you must do this.

❝ It's Keira. ❞ You gestured your lips without any fear.

Eyes wide, eyebrows raised and so scared that she seemed to have heard the worst thing in the world; what it actually had been. ❝ What?! ❞

It had been so sudden that Walsh didn't believe it the first time. You crossed your arm around her neck, bringing her closer to you.

If Leah had the onset of a heart attack, you can be sure she would have had an attack right then and there. It wasn't like she didn't like you dating, in fact, Williamson was just afraid of the consequences.

But the fact that Walsh's name was mentioned instead of someone stupid or unknown relieved Leah.

The english defender knew her, which meant she also had knowledge of her previous relationships. And to be honest, Keira Walsh was the best person to date.

However, at the moment, this information was not very useful. Especially when your field of vision only had Leah in shock.

❝ Are you fucking my sister? ❞ Williamson desperately released the words from his lips.

❝ Fucking is a very bad word. ❞ Keira murmured back.

Again, silence remained in the middle of the table. Stanway just blatantly watched the three of you argue, you hugged Walsh with one arm and Leah seemed to think about her words.

❝ Fine. ❞ Leah said with an understandable intonation.

❝ Fine? ❞ You questioned back, after all, such an attitude from your sister was the least expected.

❝ It could be worse, for example, if it were Geo. ❞ This caused Stanway to choke on her own drink, forcing the glass onto the table.

❝ Hey! ❞

Leah stretched her arms and laid her back completely on the floor, grunting, probably tired from all this.

You looked first at Stanway, who still seemed affected by the blonde's comment, wiping her mouth; your eyes moved to Keira's face, giving her a victorious smile.

Your arm used to pull your girlfriend away, slowly moving towards Walsh's long fingers and intertwining them. ❝ You was the only one who didn't know, but now everything is great. ❞ You reported it.

❝ What? Was I the last to know? Why always me?! ❞ Leah stood up so quickly that her knees hit the bottom of the table.

❝ To be honest, I was going to tell you once, but you never have patience. ❞ Keira replied. ❝ And you would probably hit me with a chair for dating [reader]. ❞ The english bantered, but there was a little truth in her speech.

❝ No, never! I just think it's funny that you started dating before me. ❞ Leah said pointing at you. ❝ Anyway, I hope you don't do anything bad. ❞ Williamson spoke in a not-so-enthusiastic tone indirectly to you know who.

Walsh was finally able to rest her face on the side of your neck, crossing one of her arms over yours for support. ❝ You've known me for years! It feels bad to say something like that to me. ❞ She murmured.

The three of them laughed, it was the typical humor of long-time friendships that you weren't used to yet.

Leah coming to terms with your relationship was a huge relief. You placed a peck on the top of Keira's head before hugging her. ❝ We should celebrate Leah not killing us… You know. ❞ You sounded like a drunk.

❝ This is just an excuse to drink more, right? ❞ Yes, exactly. Stanway was right.

Williamson rolled her eyes before pushing the last bottle of beer onto the table. ❝ Ask your babysitter for permission. ❞

❝ Leah! ❞

❝ What? ❞ The defender said between laughs.

❝She's not my babysitter. ❞

Of course, Keira Walsh no longer needed to hide behind the playful nicknames that Leah always gives. After all, she was now your girlfriend; no more secrets.

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | August 12th-18th 2024

Little bit late, but I hope you enjoy it!

Complete

Right Here, Right Meow by carpediaz/ @sofa-king-lame (Getting Together | 1,7K | General): The one where Buck gets a cat and ropes Eddie into looking after her. Not that Eddie needs much convincing, he'd do pretty much anything for Buck at this point.

plugged in by PretentiousSwanQueen/ @hotcinnamonsunset (Secret Buddie, PWP | 2,5K | Explicit): or: Buck and Eddie are secretly together and grabbing drinks with the team and decide to have a little fun with butt plugs along the way.

prove it by PretentiousSwanQueen/ @hotcinnamonsunset (Getting Together, Post-S7 | 3K | Explicit): or: when enough is enough, Eddie and Buck watch When Harry Met Sally because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible. And you know. Blow jobs to follow.

🔥 Perfect Fit by Inell/ @inell (Post-S7, Friends to Fiances | 3K | Teen): Buck drops by to talk to Eddie after his break up with Tommy ends up with an unexpected offer. Eddie realizes that it’s time for him to finally make his move before it’s too late.

First Date Nerves by Inell/ @inell (First Date, PWP | 5K | Explicit): Buck and Eddie are on their first date, both nervous about taking their friendship to the next level. Neither one wants the date to end, though, so they continue it at Eddie’s house.

the cost of doing business by PretentiousSwanQueen/ @hotcinnamonsunset (Ravi POV, Secret Buddie | 5K | Teen): It happens like this: he had been this close! like, minutes away from printing out a new tenant lease! when the prospective renter in question calls the leasing office and mentions that she won’t be needing the 1 bed, 1 bath walk up in Faircrest Heights any more because she snagged a 2 bath loft downtown that seemed like a once in a lifetime opportunity.

🔥 I'll Make This Feel Like Home by cairparavels (Post-S4 to S6 | 5K | Not Rated): Buck keeps calling Eddie's house home, and its making Eddie rethink a lot about his life. (Five times Buck refers to Eddie's house as his home plus one time Eddie does.)

🔥 Where You Go (I Go) by blueberrytwoberry/ @blueberrytwoberry (Post-S7, Getting Together | 7K | Explicit): Eddie stood before an open cupboard. He had a big cardboard box on the counter beside him. As Buck stood there, feeling as though he’d been turned to stone, Eddie put a stack of plates into the box. A stack of identical cardboard boxes sat by the kitchen table. Buck looked across all of it, his heart lurching painfully in his chest, and managed to ask, “What are - Eddie, what are you doing?” OR: Eddie's decided to change his living arrangements; Buck takes it poorly.

🔥 Vibrant by blueberrytwoberry/ @blueberrytwoberry (Soulmates AU | 8K | Teen): Color flooded into Buck’s world between one jump and the next in the middle of the tight, pressing crowd of a concert when he was twenty and making a pit stop from running somewhere - anywhere - away from where he’d been. He wished like hell, afterwards, that it had happened anywhere else at any other time. OR, Buck meets his soulmate, misses them, and tries to deal with that.

Right. Down. Medical. by blueberrytwoberry/ @blueberrytwoberry (Post-S7, Canon Typical Catastrophe, Getting Together | 8K | Teen): Buck hadn’t expected to end up in a disastrous accident when he boarded a train - the Pacific Surfliner - for what should have been a relaxing trip down the coast to enjoy some beautiful scenery and just relax, but if he had - and maybe he should have, considering the way bad luck and trouble seemed to follow him - he’d have expected something normal, you know, like a derailment. OR: Buck has some realizations about his life after an accident on a train.

like a vision reaching down to you by blueberrytwoberry/ @blueberrytwoberry (Post-S7, Crack | 8K | Teen): “You ever notice how a lot of the calls we go on seem kind of, I don’t know, predictive?” Buck asked, when the game they were watching cut over to a commercial, his voice an anchor dropped right in the middle of the spiral of Eddie’s thoughts, dispelling it. OR: The crew at the 118 realizes that the universe is, possibly, trying to tell them something via their jobs.

I never meant to fall for you but I was buried underneath by smilingbuckley/ @smilingbuckley (Canon Divergent Probie Buck | 9K | Teen):  Buck is the new probie at the 118 and Eddie.exe stops functioning.

🔥an inch away from more than just friends by allyasavedtheday/ @littlespoonevan (Post-S7, Getting Together | 10K | Teen): In which Buck has a clipboard and a list and is about to romance the hell out of Eddie Diaz. (Part 2 of Eddie vs Romance)

🔥From the Ground Up by blueberrytwoberry/ @blueberrytwoberry (S3, Animal Transformation | 17K | Mature): Eddie’s life had gone to shit in roughly every possible way. He felt about two seconds away from breaking every hour of every day, like someone had stepped up in front of him, shoved him down, smashed the life he’d been working on, and left him to rebuild from the ground up. And so, really, the last thing he needed when he got home at the end of a long shift was to find a massive, weird-ass dog curled up on his front porch. And yet, there it was.

Lost 'Til I Found You by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (911/MCU Crossover, S3 | 20K | Teen): A 9-1-1 x Marvel crossover where Buck is a genetic son of Steve Rogers because the doctors the Buckley's used to make their saviour baby were also experimenting with the super soldier serum.

WIP

🔥Where there's smoke by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (Multiverses | 18/31 | 22K | Teen): His eyelids are heavy. His lungs ache. The smoke is dense and thick, slowly suffocating him. Eddie feels himself drift as Buck’s voice penetrates the smoke, cuts through the fog in his brain. “Eddie, stay with me. Stay with me, Eds.” Eddie wants to stay. He wants to open his eyes and see Buck. He doesn’t want to leave. But he’s so tired, and sleep is calling him. Maybe it will be okay. Maybe his dreams will be sweet. Maybe there’ll be peace, there. And maybe, if he just rests for a little while, he’ll be able to find his way back.

Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 1/? | 6K | Explicit): In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path.

go and kill, go and die by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Zombie Apocalypse AU | 3/14 | 12K | Mature): The 118 are a group of survivors in a small California town in the wake of a zombie apocalypse. For months they've been isolated and safe. But the arrival of some new players, the search for some missing loved ones, will shake everything up and put their little team in jeopardy.

🔥 Long Death by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S7, Vampire AU | 13/15 | 62K | Explicit): In the summer of 2024, a never before seen form of vampirism breaks out in Los Angeles. Just as Eddie is about to get his son back. Six months later, Buck's life is permanently changed.

Podfic

🔥 [podfic] to hurt, to heal, to hope by be_brave13/ @djemsowhat // fic by brewrosemilk/ @gayhoediaz (Post-S7, Getting Together | 10-20min | Teen): "I'd love to be more of a gentleman about this, and I mean this in the most abstract and metaphorical, and least possessive way possible, but in the spirit of not wasting any more time than we already have, Buck..." the words follow each other quickly through a single, whispered breath. "...you're fucking crazy if you think I'm letting you go on that date." "Eddie, you think I'm going anywhere, you're fucking crazy."

🔥[podfic] Advice Wanted by be_brave13/ @djemsowhat // fic by cairparavels (Social Media Fic | 45-60min | Teen): Eddie Diaz takes to Reddit to figure out why he hates his best friend’s new boyfriend so much.

[daisynik7]

you’re killing me with all this angst!! 😭 any possible unrequited but happy ending with Eren when you have the time and will? Or just anything fluffy really, just to put a dinosaur print bandaid on all the broken hearts 😭

🎶 You've got my heart bursting at the seams, maybe you're the boy of my dreams. 🎶

Title: Dream Boy

Pairing: jock!Eren x shy!reader

Word Count: ~3.5k

cw: unrequited crush, fluff, college au

Summary: You’ve had a crush on Eren Jaeger for a while now. He’s the captain of your university’s swim team who also happens to be a fellow engineering major, like you. For months, you’ve admired from afar, letting yourself daydream about being his girlfriend. But that’s all it is: fantasy. Until one day, when you’re invited to a beach outing with friends, and he happens to be there too. 

Author’s Notes: Thanks for the request, anon! Going with a common trope here, hope you don’t mind! I’ve always been a sucker for popular jock x shy nerd, so I hope you like this one! Also, fair warning, I have never surfed in my life, and I had to do some research on this, so major apologies if I got any of these details wrong, please don’t be mean to me LOL. Title is inspired by the song "Dream Boy" by Beach Bunny! Listen if you want to set the mood right. Divider credit to @/saradika.

With the weather getting warmer and the sun shining brighter, a trip to the beach sounds like the perfect idea to get away. Midterms just ended and finals are fast approaching in a few weeks. This is the only weekend when it makes sense to relax before you have to start the grind once more.  

It’s your roommate, Sasha, who originally plans this little weekend getaway. When you’re not too busy studying, you’re hanging out with her. She’s become your closest friend since you first lived with her freshman year, always friendly and making the effort to include you in all her social affairs, even when you decline so often. Through her, you met Mikasa and Annie, who have been nothing but kind to you, despite having strong personalities. You’re excited to get to know them even better by going on this trip with them.

With Annie’s car packed with all of your belongings, the four of you set out on the hour-long journey. Mikasa offered her parent’s beach house to stay at which works out perfectly for broke college students. Using your meal plans, you collectively purchased enough snacks and beverages to last the next two nights. So far, everything is working out swimmingly. 

You arrive to your destination, stoked to be spending the weekend with the beach as your backyard. Mikasa points out the other car parked in the driveway, groaning. “Oh no. Eren’s here. And he probably brought the rest of the boys.”

Sasha turns to face her. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“That’s his car. And those are their surfboards on the rack. They’re definitely here.”

Your roommate directs her question at you. “Are you okay with this?”

You smile, a little taken aback that you’ll be sharing a home with a few strangers, but fine overall. “Yeah, should be fun. By the way, who’s Eren?”

“Eren Jaeger, my brother.”

Upon hearing his full name, you do your best to swallow the strangled noise in your throat, playing it cool. Eren Jaeger? Captain of the school’s swim team? Fellow engineering student and your classmate for two of your current courses, three last semester? The guy you’ve had the hugest crush on since you first laid eyes on him freshmen year, when you used to live a floor above him? That Eren Jaeger? 

“Oh, cool,” you say, totally not meaning it. Still, you have to keep your composure. Knowing this information has you feeling self-conscious. You didn’t pack your best clothes, under the impression this was just a girl’s trip. And you realize that he might see you in your swimsuit, which you’re horrified about. Internally, you’re freaking out, unprepared for this recent development. You contemplate calling a taxi, faking an illness to avoid any possible embarrassment you’ll display in front of him. Before you can, Sasha drags you into the house, both your bags in hand, announcing your arrival. “Eren! We know you’re in here!”

Mikasa and Annie follow, carrying the rest of the luggage with them, inspecting the house. “Hey, Jaeger. Get out here,” Annie demands.

He strolls in from one of the hallways, hair down, in a white t-shirt and basketball shorts, slides on his feet. Looking as cool and attractive as ever. You hide behind Sasha, cheeks already hot. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks Mikasa, placing a hair tie between his lips, fingers running through his hair to put it up in a ponytail. 

“Carla and Grisha said I could use the house for the weekend. What are you doing here?”

“Brought the boys to surf and chill. I guess I should have asked Mom and Dad first.” He shrugs, unfazed.

Mikasa rolls her eyes. “You should have told me you were coming. I have guests.”

He glances at the rest of you. “So? It’s just Sasha and Annie. What’s the big deal?”

“My roommate’s here too!” Sasha mentions, stepping aside to reveal you. “And it’s weird sharing a house with boys!” 

You give him a small wave, a weak grin on your face. “Hello.”

He steps towards you, squinting as if he’s studying you carefully. “Hey! It’s you!”

You blurt out a confused, “Huh?”

He says your full name, shocking you further, before he continues. “You’re in my class. Physics and Materials Science, right?”

You’re surprised that he recognizes you, that he even knows your name. Up until this point, you were convinced that you were invisible to him. You nod, momentarily speechless when he smiles at you. “I’m sorry for showing up like this. We can leave if you want us to.”

“Yeah, maybe you should,” Annie comments, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Before anyone else can speak, you say, “It’s okay. You don’t have to leave.” If you’re going to grow up and move on from this crush, you can’t chicken out on things like this. And besides, you don’t want to be the one person who ruins all the fun. 

“Are you sure? It’s not a big deal. It’s just an hour drive. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine. The more the merrier, right?”

He grins. “As long as you’re okay with this.”

Mikasa, on the other hand, says, “Well, what if I’m not okay with this.”

“Fine. Then you be the one to kick out Jean. He was really looking forward to surfing today.” At the mention of that name, Mikasa blushes, not responding. The rest of you girls have an idea about Mikasa’s crush on Jean, so it’s not surprising when she doesn’t pester Eren anymore. Even Annie’s eyes light up when Armin comes out of one of the rooms, greeting you. 

After settling in, everyone gathers in the living room, planning what to do next. Collectively, you agree to head outside to relax on the beach while the boys surf. You try to contain your excitement at seeing Eren in a skin-tight body suit, holding onto the giant board, hair tied in a messy bun like a male model for Billabong. 

You lay towels and blankets all around the sand, setting up umbrellas to block out the blistering sun. Annie dumps all the snacks in the middle, while the four of you stretch out comfortably. You hide yourself under a towel, self-conscious about in a bathing suit in front of Eren, who probably doesn’t notice anyways. 

Sasha plays music on her Bluetooth speaker while you and Mikasa open your books, reading. Annie watches a movie on her phone, headphones plugged in. An hour later, Eren comes running up from the shore, dripping with ocean water, hair matted, still gorgeous. He glances at you first, flashing his brilliant smile. “Hey, do you want to try?” He knocks his fist against the surfboard, waiting for your answer.

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll be good at it. In fact, I think I’ll be very, very bad at it,” you admit.

“It’s okay. I can just show you how to sit on it. We won’t actually ride the big waves. You know how to swim, right?”

You nod, placing your book in your bag. This is too good of an opportunity to pass up, especially since it means quality time with him. However, you can’t help but feel nervous, expecting to make a fool of yourself. Sasha encourages you. “You should go try it! It’ll be fun.”

Mikasa adds, “Yeah, Eren is surprisingly a good teacher.”

Convinced, you stand up, hesitantly letting the towel fall to expose yourself in your swimsuit. You avoid his gaze, too flustered worrying about what he thinks of you. He leads the way to the shore, you following close behind him. The rest of the guys sit on the sand next to their boards, chatting. When they see you, they wave, giving you some motivating thumbs up. 

Eren turns to face you, pausing. “First, you have to attach the leash.” He squats down, hands near your foot, peering up at you. “Do you mind?”

Unaware of what the leash even is, you remain calm, trying to ignore your excitement with him this close to your bare skin. “Go ahead.”

He wraps the Velcro around your ankle, fingers brushing against you delicately. He readjusts it three times, asking on the third, “Is this too tight?”

“No,” you answer, still staring out towards the sea, unable to meet his gaze.

He stands back up to explain the basics of surfing. It’s all too much to retain in a short amount of time, but you listen and appreciate how well he describes each step, memorizing the most important details. 

“We should practice getting on the board first before we enter,” he suggests, placing it flat on the sand, beckoning you to get on it. “Just lay on it, face down, and get used to how it feels against your body.” You get down, pressing your stomach to the deck, gripping to the sides. 

“Good job.” He squats again, level with you. “Once we’re in the water, you’re gonna want to move fast. You have to push the board forward against the force of the waves, then quickly hop on. It might be a little tough, but I know you can do it. The waves are strong, so if you can’t get the timing right, make sure you lift your board up with the peak and hold on tight, so that you don’t get dragged with it.”

You nod, getting increasingly anxious. With the information locked in your brain, you follow Eren into the ocean, board floating steadily on the surface, your hand on the center. He isn’t exaggerating; the waves are intense, even the tiny ones close to shore. Once you are waist deep, Eren, who’s farther away from you now, turns up the volume of his voice louder, cupping one hand around his mouth, the other pointing to the incoming wave. “It’s coming!”

It approaches fast, almost too quickly. Before you know it, the force drags you backwards, falling in. Wet from head to toe now, you resurface, grabbing the board to reposition yourself, grasping both the tail and the deck, remembering his instructions from earlier. 

“Are you okay?” he yells out, concerned.

“Yeah!” you respond, preparing for the next one. With more determination and confidence, you push forward, hopping on successfully when the wave rushes in. 

“Great job!” he exclaims from behind you. Your chest swells with adrenaline and pride. There’s no time to waste as the next wave approaches. The next task is to straddle. You get in a push-up pose, grasping the side rails. It’s not enough though; it slides out from under you, knocking you back, a stream of salty water flushing your nose causing you to choke momentarily. Eren ruses over as fast as he can, waddling in the water, worried. “Are you okay?”

You laugh, an electrifying buzz coursing through your body. “Yeah! Let me try again.”

He smiles brightly, amused by your resolve. “Okay. Hold on really tight and make sure to slide the board slightly forward as you sit up.”

It takes you a couple more tries, salt water now burning your nose and throat, until you finally manage to straddle the board. You raise your fists in the air, turning your neck to face him. “I did it!”

Beaming, mimicking your celebratory gesture, he happily yells, “You did!” When the waves come, you and the board flow with it, bobbing up and down on the water. After minutes of struggling, covered in sweat, dripping with ocean water, you finally feel at peace. You enjoy riding a few more waves, dehydration slowly sinking in, surely from all the salt you’ve unintentionally swallowed. You glance at Eren, who’s watching you from a short distance away. “I think I’m good for the day! I need some water.”

He walks over, standing next to you. “Oh yeah, definitely. Great job, by the way. That was awesome seeing you like that.” He pats you gently on your knee, grinning. 

You giggle. “Thank you. So, uh, how do I get off this thing?”

“Well, this is going to the last thing I teach you, okay? You’re going to paddle out and towards the shore. Think you can do it?”

With whatever leftover determination you have, you nod, leaning your chest down to the board. He helps you readjust yourself so that you’re facing the sands. “The wave is coming! Get ready to paddle!”

Like a dog trying to swim, you flail your arms as if your life depends on it, successfully riding the wave until it comes to a stop on the shore. Armin, Connie, and Jean, witnessing this still sat in the same spot, cheer. When you stand up, your equilibrium is all off, losing balance. Luckily, Eren runs up to catch you, steadying you. “That was awesome. You did so good!”

Catching your breath, tired from all the physical exertion and adrenaline, you breathe out, “Thank you,” giving him a weak smile. The two of you walk to the rest of your friends, Eren’s hand on your back, in case you lose balance again. As you approach the girls, they applaud, beaming with joy. 

“That was epic!” Sasha exclaims, handing you a water bottle. 

Suddenly, he’s gripping your shoulders, squeezing affectionately. “She’s the best. Never gave up, totally committed.” He turns his head to look at you, voice lower, speaking directly to you. “You were really great out there. I mean it. I never doubted you for a second. You’re the smartest person in class, so I knew this would be a piece of cake for you.”  

His last statement almost leaves you speechless. Voice trembling from exhaustion and his kind words, you reply, “Thank you. You’re a really great teacher.”

He gazes at you, seemingly forever, sliding his hands down to your elbows, lingering for just a moment longer until he lets you go. Clearing his throat, he announces, “I’m going to catch a few more waves with the guys. I’ll see y’all later.” Is it your imagination or is there a slight blush on his cheeks? It’s most likely from the sun, so you disregard it, not wanting to get your hopes up. 

You spend the rest of the afternoon relaxing beside your friends, like you had originally planned. The novel you started earlier is open in your hands, your mind definitely not focused on the words. Instead, you daydream about Eren, relishing what just occurred. All those times in class, fantasizing about different scenarios with him, always convinced that nothing would ever happen. Now, you can’t help letting your imagination run rampant. Still, when you all pack up to take the short trip back to the house, you let those fantasies disappear. There’s no way he feels anything for you beyond friendship. And you’ll just have to live with that. 

Later in the night, with everyone sun-kissed and clean from beach residue, you collectively decide to get cozy in your pajamas. Mikasa ignites the fire pit out on the balcony, perfect for the cool breeze. When four boxes of pizza are delivered, the eight of you huddle around the flames, enjoying the meal as you laugh at the stories being shared. Connie tells a hilarious tale about him and Jean streaking in the dead of night for a dare that resulting in almost exposing themselves to the university’s president. Annie mentions her roommate, Hitch, and how she slapped a creeper at a frat party, who wouldn’t stop annoying her. Sasha asks for advice on how to approach her crush, Nicolo, the young chef at the campus cafeteria who makes her breakfast burritos especially tasty. 

After a while, Eren suggests, “How about some s’mores? I brought the ingredients to make them. What do you say?”

Everyone hums in agreement. He directs his attention to you. “Can you help me in the kitchen?”

You obliged, surprised that he chose you specifically. Following him, you slide the door closed, quiet inside the house except for the muffled voices of your friends outside. In the kitchen, he reaches up for one of the cabinets, grabbing two bags of marshmallows, two big bricks of chocolate, and a box of graham crackers. In another drawer, he retrieves metal sticks to roast the marshmallows. In the meantime, you search for a large baking tray, eventually retrieving it from the oven. “Maybe we can set everything up on here so that It’s easier.”

He smiles at you. “Good idea.”

At the counter, you start unwrapping the chocolate, breaking them into sectioned pieces. Eren does the same with the graham crackers, the two of you working beside each other in a comfortable silence. Halfway through, he asks, “Did you have fun today?”

“Yeah, I had a lot of fun! Thank you again. I really had a blast.”

“I did too. It was a lot of fun hanging out with you today.”

“Maybe next time, I can actually learn how to surf for real,” you say, not thinking anything of it. 

He leans closer to you, arm brushing yours as you lay out the chocolate on the pan. “Yeah, next time.”

It’s silent again. You finish the chocolate, washing your hands clean to move on to the marshmallows. One bag in your hand, the other in Eren’s. “So, um, do you have a boyfriend or something?”

This catches you off guard. “No, I don’t.”

“Cool, cool, cool. I’m single too. In case you were wondering.” You’ve never heard this type of nervous energy in his voice before. It’s unusual to hear him like this. You’re unsure how to respond, unprepared for where this conversation is possibly heading. 

“Well, if you ever need someone to study with, I’m always available. The season is over, and I get tired of my teammates sometimes,” he says with a laugh.

“Do you want to study with me?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“I’d like to do a lot of things with you, actually.” There’s an undeniable blush on his cheeks as he pours the remaining marshmallows onto the tray. This can’t be just a sunburn, can it? 

Butterflies flutter in your belly. You look at him, smiling. You can’t chicken out now. Not when he’s giving you this chance, this opportunity. You need to go for it. “Can I be honest with you?”

He faces you, eager. “Of course.”

Sucking in a deep breath for this leap of faith, you confess. “I’ve had the biggest crush on you ever since freshman year.”

His smile widens, brilliant teeth on display. “What? When we used to live at Reiss?”

“You remember?” Your mouth hangs open, shocked that he recalls living in the same dorm as you. 

“Yeah, I do,” he answers. “You’re a hard one to forget.”

“I thought I was invisible.”

He shifts closer, tipping his head to meet your eyes. “Not to me.”

You face him, understanding that he’s always noticed you. He leans forward, lips inches from yours. “Can I be honest with you, too?” You nod, desperate to hear what he has to say.

Even closer now, lips grazing your ear, breath ticklish on your skin, he whispers, “I really like you. I’ve always been too nervous to do anything. I thought you’d only see me as a dumb jock.”

Immediately, you pull back, replying, “Never! I never thought that of you! I think you’re so smart.”

He laughs, eyes crinkled with admiration. “I think you’re so smart, too. And really, really cute.” 

You stare at each other for a moment, wishing this would last forever. Wanting to pinch yourself to confirm this is real. 

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” The pink hue on his cheeks gradually turns into a red.

A little too eager, you respond, “Yes!”, resulting in him giggling again, pressing his forehead to yours. The contact sets your skin on fire, body tingling with a different type of adrenaline than from earlier. With your eyes shut, you close the gap, lips brushing seamlessly into a delicate kiss. His hand slides behind your neck, sending you shivers as he pulls you in closer.

Suddenly, there’s loud banging on the sliding door, startling you two apart. Mikasa and Annie have their fists on the glass, yelling out something incoherent, Armin tugging on their sleeves in an attempt to stop them. Connie, Jean, and Sasha holler with huge grins on their faces. 

Eren laughs, shaking his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you respond, smiling at him. 

You gaze at each other for another couple of seconds, cherishing this special moment before returning outside to your friends, carrying the goods. They all talk at once, hyped about what they just witnessed, berating you with loads of questions and advice. You and Eren sit beside each other, politely redirecting each inquiry and comment until your friends get tired of non-answers, eventually changing the subject. He lays out a warm blanket for the both of you, legs covered, knees touching while everyone begins to roast their marshmallows.

By the time the s’mores are completely assembled, mouths sticky and full of ooey-gooey sweetness, you and Eren munch on your treats happily, holding hands beneath the blanket. 

[aspirationalpeony]

Quit Playin' Games (With My Heart)

Summary: While you're trying to puzzle out the mysterious Ms. Schemmenti, Janine invites you to a dinner party--at Melissa's house. Board games, bonding, and lasagna... What could go wrong? (See author's note at the end for prompt credit.) Content Warnings: A brief paragraph discussing homophobia. AO3 Link

Does Melissa Schemmenti like you?

You've got everyone else figured out. Janine would befriend an electrical pole if it had a smiley face stapled to it; Jacob befriends anyone Janine befriends. Gregory stays a little aloof, but he's been warming up the more you show him your LEGO sets. Barbara--well, she sees you as another one of the kids, you think, but you know she appreciates your self-sufficiency, tolerates you with a smile when you're in the conversation. And Ava is... Ava.

Melissa? Who knows? She called you by the wrong name the first month you were at Abbott, knowingly, watching your face with a wry twist to her mouth, waiting for you to take the bait. When you didn't, you earned your name back. She started making dry comments to you, like "You got enough glitter glue there, Martha Stewart?" as you passed her in the hall, arms full of art supplies. She saw you struggling with the copy machine one day and said, "Here," giving it a swift kick that brought it wheezing to life, but followed up with, "Thought your generation was good with tech. What do we keep you around for, huh?"

After those backhands you'd be in a spin, wondering and confused; then later that day or the day after she'd say something else, like, "Hey, not bad, shortstop," when you got something off a high shelf for her (why shortstop when you’re taller than her? Reverse psychology?), or "Good job on lunch duty. They didn't kill ya," and you'd go warm all over and your confusion would deepen and all you would think was: does she like me or not?

You’re just not sure. So you try not to listen the day they’re all in the break room, talking about a party at Melissa’s house. You can’t help but overhear snatches—Janine insisting she’ll bring lasagna, Jacob saying he’ll do dessert, Melissa saying “oh, brother” and Barbara assuring her gently, a smile in her voice, “And I’ll bring the wine”—but you keep your head down over your lunch and turn the page of your lesson plan and ignore them until Janine realizes, suddenly, that the room isn’t empty, that you’re at the table just next to them, and burbles, “Hey, you should come, too!”

Your eyes go to Melissa right away. She glances up over her cat-eye glasses and her look is inscrutable.

“Oh,” you say, “um, I don’t know. I have, like, a thing—“

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!” Janine says. “We’ll eat some amazing food—“ she flicks a curl over her shoulder, playing at an Ava-like preen—“we’ll play board games, we’ll bond…”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not intruding!” Janine looks imploringly at her friends. “Right?”

“Yeah,” Melissa says at last, still looking at you. Your heart thumps. “You should come.”

And that’s how you end up here: Melissa’s house. You crossed the welcome mat reading GO AWAY, a cheesecake in your hands, and tried not to make it obvious how badly you wanted to stare around yourself, scrutinize every photo and every piece of furniture, trying to get a window onto this woman you can’t figure out. Everyone’s piled onto the couch or onto chairs, plastic creaking under them as they lean forward to the table to swipe a snack or their glass of wine, and there’s an open box, a few stacks of cards.

“I found this amazing get-to-know-you game,” Janine declares, sliding down to sit on Mel’s carpeted floor. “So, you spin the spinner, right, and whatever it lands on, you take a card with the same color, and then you ask the question that’s on it, and everybody answers, and—“

“How do you win?” Melissa says. She’s holding a glass of wine, its rim printed with her pink lipstick. She’s got her hair in a ponytail that leaves lots of little curls hanging everywhere. She’s wearing a tank top. These details feel incredibly important; you try not to think about them.

“Oh, uh…” Janine frowns at the instruction booklet. “I don’t think you win.”

“What’s the point of a game if nobody wins?” Melissa leans over to the coffee table, grabs a grape off a serving plate, pops it into her mouth. She glances over at Barbara, who’s perched very straight-backed in a plastic-covered armchair, nursing a little bit of wine.

“I, for one,” Jacob says, “think competition is over-valued in our society. American individualism—"

“Just spin it, Janine,” Barbara says.

Beaming at the approval of her mentor, Janine spins. She plucks a blue card: “What’s your favorite sexual—“ her eyes widen. “Uh.”

“Oh, this just got interestin’,” Melissa says, and sits up straighter.

“Let me take another one.” Janine puts that card aside. “Have you ever had a threes—okay, no. Are they all like this?”

Gregory, a silent presence sitting stiffly alongside Janine, turns over a card from the green and red piles. He reads one: “How do you like your partner to style their pubic hair?” Then, the red: “Confess to a sexual fantasy you’ve had about… A member of the group.” The questions sound even more bizarre in his level voice, although his lifted eyebrows and widened eyes telegraph his discomfort. His gaze darts to Janine, then away.

“Janine, what’s the name of this game, please,” Barbara says, looking as though she’s one syllable from combustion.

Janine lifts the lid of the box. “Adult Dinner Party. But I thought, you know, adult dinner party, a classy kind of—oh.”

Jacob picks up a blue card gingerly and turns it over. “Have you ever had sex in a public place?”

“I have,” you say. Every face in the room turns toward you. Your cheeks heat. Your eyes flicker between each incredulous look. “What? We’re supposed to answer them, aren’t we?”

“This just got interestin’,” Melissa repeats. There’s a strange look on her face, not quite amusement; you wonder if it’s respect. “Me, too.”

“Melissa!” Barbara gasps.

“What? You never got fingered in a dark ride at an amusement park?”

Barbara stands up with her wine and walks out of the room, muttering to herself. Glances pass between the rest of you. The corner of Melissa’s mouth curves up. “Spin again,” she says.

The next few questions are mercifully tamer: do you think French kissing is overrated, what’s one thing you’ll never do for a partner? More wine is poured, Melissa going around and topping off each glass, saying to Gregory and Janine, “Lighten up a little, will you?” Eventually she comes to sit on the floor with everyone else, four people around the coffee table. She’s picked a spot right at your side, your knees bumping, thighs aligned.

“Is Barbara okay?” you ask. You can smell her perfume; it’s spicy and floral and it makes you feel tipsier than you are.

“Oh, she’ll be fine,” Melissa says. “You don’t wanna know how many of my parties she’s walked out of. Hey, Barb!” She bellows it close to your ear, making you wince; it’s followed by a twinge of peculiar affection that so much volume can come from one little woman. “Check the lasagna, will ya!”

There’s an indistinct answer from the other room, full of barely-contained irritation. Melissa slugs back another swallow of wine as Jacob flicks the spinner.

He draws a card and reads, “Have you ever kissed a member of the same sex? Oh, well—obviously.”

Gregory and Janine shake their heads.

Melissa says, “Listen, what happens in cheer squad stays in cheer squad, alright,” to scandalized gasps from her audience. She looks at you. “How about you? No girls, huh?”

You’re arrested by her green gaze so close, the wine on her breath, the question itself. You start to tell her, yes, plenty of girls, but you’re blushing again, embarrassed, all your bravado from earlier draining away into the floorboards.

“Here,” she says, and leans in. You register the thought Holy shit in the moment before her lips touch yours. Her nose brushes your cheek. Her mouth is very soft and a hot breath puffs over you in the instant before she delicately parts her lips and you feel the sweet flick of her tongue. She leans back again. “Now you’ve kissed a girl.”

“Melissa!” Janine says, outraged, bewildered.

“I bet Ava would have come, if she’d known it was this kind of party,” Jacob mumbles to the bowl of pretzels in front of him.

“I’m going to go check on Barbara,” Gregory says, his shellshocked eyes firmly on the ground as he gets up.

“Hey, I’ll come with you,” Janine says, all nerves, “maybe the lasagna needs more parm,” and scrambles up after him.

Melissa’s pouring herself the last of the wine. She’s smiling to herself. You don’t get it: what was that for? Was it bait, like your name, like the ribbing comments, trying to get a rise out of you? Or maybe just out of the people around you—trying to be the most shocking in the room? You stare, trying to read the look of satisfaction on her face.

"I'll--the bathroom," you say, and get to your feet. "'Scuse me."

You've got kind of an idea where it is. The problem, you realize, is that you have to cut through the kitchen to get there. It's savory-smelling, rich with tomato scent, and full of furious whispering that dies instantly as you cross the threshold; Janine, intently grating parmigiano into a bowl, gives you a guilty look as Gregory quickly parts from her side. Barbara is at the island counter, maybe only half-participating, but she looks at you, too, and you know they've told her.

You feel it all over again: these are people who've had years to get to know each other. Who are you to them? Not really a friend, just a colleague, half-acquaintance. You're the new invitee, the odd one out, and even though it was Melissa that kissed you, you'll be the one who gets the blame for the ruined party, the awkwardness now swamping Mel's rowhouse. Your gut clenches. "Excuse me," you repeat and dart past them to the bathroom.

You run cold water from the tap and stick your wrists underneath the faucet, like you've got heatstroke. You wet your hands and press them to your cheeks, your neck, your nape, trying to quiet your thumping heart. You look in the mirror: there's a glazed look in your eye; you're conscious your lips are tingling. Why'd she do that?

You've been played with by straight women before. Not always out of conscious cruelty: some women, you've realized, are hungry for a kind of attraction that doesn't have fear and imbalance, and they can't always have that with men. They want to be wanted by someone they think won't hurt them, and they pick you--never thinking about what it does to your heart; never imagining that desire for a woman can be real, that it can mean anything to anyone.

Is that Melissa? She said that thing about the cheer squad. If she likes women, too, why would she mess with you? If she thinks you're straight, is she just trying to shock, the way she did Barb with that dirty answer about fingering, needling at what she thinks are your reservations and limitations? Because that's what she does, what she's been doing. Poking and poking, trying to get a rise. Should you have shouted? Should you have cried? What would satisfy her?

"Melissa Ann Schemmenti," you hear Barb say from the kitchen, muffled on the other side of the door. You freeze a moment, heart pounding all over again, then turn the water down to a trickle and inch toward the door, leaning closer. All you can hear are bits and pieces of what must be a thunderous lecture: "That girl... Well, I won't... You know that... Sweet, but... Learn to behave."

There's a sulky rumble in Mel's voice in answer.

You're going to have to go out there eventually. You listen a few more seconds, but if there's footsteps of people dispersing, or more conversation as they linger, you can't hear it. You resign yourself, turn off the water, dry off your hands. You give your cheeks a last press with your cold fingers, trying to ground yourself. You'll go out there and pretend it didn't happen. You'll make it through the night and see what happens tomorrow. That's all you can do.

Of course, you go out into the kitchen, and everyone else is gone, and Melissa's there.

She's frowning deeply and scrupulously wrapping the parmigiano in plastic. She says something under her breath; you catch a Sicilian curse and a "kids don't know..." When she hears the bathroom door click, her head goes up, and there's a moment, her eyes meeting yours, where she looks as nervous as you feel. She looks back down at the cheese, tightly sealing and wrapping its edges, then crosses to the big stainless fridge to put it away.

"Guess I scared you back there," she says. There's a challenge in her voice. Suddenly, your fear and loneliness uncoil; they spool out into anger. It's one thing to mess with you in words. You could call that friendliness, call it teasing. It's not fair to mess with you like this.

"You didn't scare me," you say. Your voice is stronger than you expected. Not loud, but sure. "I've kissed more girls than a cheer squad."

"Huh, look at you," Melissa says, "big player."

"What is your problem with me?"

The question catches her in the act of moving to the oven. She looks sharply at you--then away. There's something strangely un-Melissa about the act. She fiddles with the oven dial, then leans her hip against the counter and folds her arms over her chest. "Hon, if I had a problem with you, you'd know."

"Then what the hell was that?" You catch yourself starting to cross your arms, to mirror her, and lower them to your sides, where your hands clench tightly.

"I kissed ya." She lifts her chin and looks at you. "What, you didn't like it?"

Your anger wobbles; the question stumps you. "It--that doesn't--look, you've been doing this all year. Pushing me around. I don't get it. I didn't do anything to you. Maybe you think I'm annoying, or stupid, or--"

"Pushing you around?" Mel moves closer. Her voice gets a little tighter, a little louder. Her eyes glitter with challenge. "I invited you to my house."

"Yeah, you invited Jacob and Janine to your house, too."

"I don't like them the way I like you," she says, and freezes. You have a sense she's blurted something she didn't mean to say. It's stopped her right in the tracks of what she might have made an argument, draining the confidence out of her posture.

Your heart is thundering in your ears again. You replay that delicate, barely-there kiss: her face leaning toward yours, spicy scent of her perfume, wine on her breath, her green eyes, her soft, hot mouth. Her tongue. "What?" you say.

Her mouth twists. There's something faintly absurd about it, how it turns a grown woman toddleresque, and you get another pang of that strange affection from before, when she yelled right in your ear. It's strong enough to filter through your anger.

She shifts from foot to foot. With her shoes off in her own home, she suddenly looks half her usual height. Fondness washes against you. "Look," she says, "I'm forget-about-it years older'n you and I don't have time to play games, so--"

"This isn't playing games?"

She ducks her chin toward her chest. It's another gesture that's strangely unlike her. You hear Barbara's voice in your head: Melissa Ann Schemmenti... Learn to behave.

You move closer again. Her eyes flick up to yours and there's a sulky defiance in them, even when they drop briefly to your lips.

"Is this..." You don't know how to ask it. How do you ask Melissa Schemmenti do you want me in her own kitchen? "Melissa, what do you want?"

"C'mere," she says. She takes your chin in her grasp and brings you closer and kisses you again.

Wine, perfume, her skin. This time, it's not some playful schoolgirl thing. You can feel intention behind the slow press of her lips against yours. She lets it linger for a second, two, then leans back, looking into your eyes.

Whatever she sees has her turning you, your back against the counter, a hard line of granite. This time, you lean forward into her kiss. Her body presses into yours, all hips, soft belly, breasts. Her hands bracket your body against the edge of the countertop. Her way of deepening the kiss is to nip your lower lip and make you gasp, so that her tongue can flick into your mouth, brushing against yours and sending tingling ripples through your whole body.

You cup her jaw. She’s so, so warm. You slide a hand back and brush some of those loose, careless locks of red hair behind her ear. You kiss her and kiss her; when your tongue teases against hers, deliberately now, she makes a sound like a whimper that you feel head to toe, like a current of lightning passing through you, dispersing into the ground.

“So,” she says, with you securely pinned, flushed, breathing hard, “what do you think?”

What do you think? You go back in for another kiss. She chuckles against your mouth and can barely kiss you back for her smug smile. This time, it’s your kiss, not hers, and you explore exactly how you want to: sucking and nibbling her lower lip, licking into her mouth, your hands dropping to her waist, pulling her against you. She melts into you, and there’s a thunderous sense of power and desire in you, tied to how her arms come up to loop around your neck, how her spine softens and her body sways into yours.

When you’ve got your breath back, you ask her, “Should we go back out there?” You know you have to, but you don’t know how you’ll manage it. You’re sure you have this moment written all over your face, glassy-eyed and out of breath. Melissa does, too: her lipstick is smeared. “Maybe in a few minutes?”

“I think,” she says, “I should kick all of ‘em outta here, and you’n’me keep the game and the lasagna, and we have some fun.” Her hand drops, intervening between your body and the counter so she can firmly grab your ass. You squeak. “Huh?”

“I—I think that would be pretty rude.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” she says, though she doesn’t let go of your ass. “And they planned this whole thing for us, so…”

“Wait—” you lean back a little to get a clear picture of her face. “What?”

“Janine’s idea,” she says. “I found out after they invited you. They knew I thought you were cute—“

“You told them that?”

“Course I didn’t,” Melissa says, “I look like somebody who goes splashin’ their business everywhere? ‘Specially where Janine can hear it? I’ll tell you about what she did to me’n my sister some time. They figured it out on their own. I mighta been lookin’ at your ass at work.” She gives it a pinch.

“So the board game…” You frown.

“I think that was an accident for real.” Her face pinches in a frown. “‘Magine Janine tryin’ to get us to talk dirty to each other out there?” The frown vanishes and the leer she gives you makes you feel very, very naked. “We could talk dirty in here, if you wanna.”

“Okay,” you say, “I think we have to go serve dinner.” If you let her keep going, you don’t know if you’ll have the will to stop her. You hear the next thought in her voice: What? You never got fingered in a kitchen with all your coworkers right outside? “Wait—“ your brow creases. “Did Barbara seriously go along with this?”

Melissa clears her throat. “She didn’t know at first—and then, I wanted her here, y’know, in case, uh…”

“Things went badly?” you supply. Melissa pinks. You smile at the sweet strangeness of it. “Were you guys going to drink a bottle of wine so you could… Mope about me?”

“I wasn’t gonna mope about ya,” Mel says, “because I knew you weren’t gonna turn me down, and you’d be an idiot if you did, so.”

“I would,” you agree, and have to go back in for another kiss, two, three. “I would be an idiot,” you murmur against her.

“Okay,” she says when you can finally stop kissing her, “okay.” She gives your ass a slap that makes you gasp. Her eyes narrow, cataloguing that response, and her smirk, of course, resurfaces. “You take the lasagna out of the oven. I gotta fix my lipstick.” She steps away, and pauses. “You might wanna…” She gestures to her mouth.

You rub your tingling lips and your fingers come away with the pink of her lipstick. Your face heats.

“Or keep it,” Melissa says, “looks good on you,” and she gives a preening toss of her high ponytail as she turns away to the bathroom.

You watch her go, her hips swaying as she moves. You have a sense of the world tilted on its axis: all that teasing and game-playing—because she likes you? More than likes you—wants you? Janine inviting you, Jacob and Gregory playing along—because they really do care? Barbara scolding Melissa in this kitchen—because she wants her best friend to treat you right?

You find a napkin and scrub the lipstick off your mouth. Each step you take across the kitchen feels like levitation, an inch or two above the floor. You check the lasagna. There’s two: one big lasagna, and another small, plain one for Gregory. You lift each casserole dish out of the oven, and they smell better than ever in a house full of friends.

You cross to the doorway and peek out into the living room. “Lasagna’s ready,” you say to the four faces that turn to yours, and you know you’re smiling like an idiot, but you can’t help it.

Janine bounces up. “I can’t wait for you to tryyyy itttttt,” she sing-songs. “I learned from the best!”

Barbara passes you to find plates and ready the table. She gives your arm a little pat as she goes—the first time she’s ever touched you. You feel a Janine-like burst of effervescence at the thought that Melissa’s best friend approves.

Melissa reappears. She picks up a cutter for each lasagna, an armful of cloth napkins, another bottle of wine. Jacob and Gregory gather the glasses from the coffee table. You stick your hands back into the oven mitts to carry each dish in.

As everybody gets settled in, pulling out chairs, Janine proudly adding her bowl of grated parmigiano to the table (“just in case!” she burbles), you catch Melissa’s eye. She’s looking at you, a soft fondness in the gaze; the tender creases at the corners of her eyes make your chest squeeze around your heart, which feels three, four times as large as it was before.

“What do you think?” you ask the table. “Should we bring over the cards?”

Your friends laugh. Barbara shakes her head and rolls her eyes. Melissa Schemmenti, looking at you, smiles.

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

Author's Note:

My next fic was intended to be a sadder hurt/comfort fic, but I received the following prompt from @morgana-larkin:

I love your first fic and I wanted to know if you could do one more on the fun side. Where the whole group goes to either Melissa or reader’s place for game night and they all end up playing truth or dare while drunk and someone dares one of them to kiss the other. Then after everyone leaves the two of them end up admitting their feelings. Thank you!

I did make some tweaks to the premise to suit my storytelling style, which I hope is okay. I did my best to honor this fun and lovely prompt. Thank you so much!

[chiriwritesstuff]

The Girl in IT - IT Ticket: Print Job

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU Byte-Sized Microfic

The LIST │ Read the main series here!

Chapter Rating: T

Story Summary: What if Joel tried to print out his list to put in his wallet but botched the print job? Who does he call in his time of need?

Word Count: 430

Inspired by this ask from a sweet anon:

A/N: Lately I've been receiving a lot of messages in my Asks and it's led to a lot of me sharing the lore and backstory of 'The Girl in IT'! I decided it would be fun if I answered these with a short, byte-sized fic! Thank you, sweet anon for the ask! Keep them coming!

"Ellie?" Joel's voice echoes from across the hall. "Get in here for a sec."

Ellie strides into Joel's office, hand on her hip. "What's up? I'm about to head out to the job site with Tommy."

Joel looks somewhat sheepish. "Need a hand."

"Okay… is it going to take long? I needed to be in the parking lot five minutes ago."

"Well, I tried to print out a document-"

Ellie groans, plopping onto the chair in front of him. "Isn't that why we hired Sugar? To help you handle your computer mishaps?"

Joel sighs, "She's with Tess right now. I figured this wasn't pressing enough to warrant the interruption. Besides, you know Tess."

Ellie rolls her eyes as she nods in agreement. "Fine. What happened after you hit print?"

Joel scratches his head, avoiding eye contact. "I may have pressed the wrong button. Instead of printing one page, I accidentally printed the entire manual for the printer. Now it's sitting in the tray, and I have no idea how to fix it."

Ellie chuckles, "You're lucky I'm here. Let's take a look."

They both stroll over to Joel's desk, and Ellie surveys the printer, a cascade of papers flowing out of the tray. Ellie bursts into laughter. "Yeah, you definitely printed the manual. Congratulations, Joel. You just set a new record for the most paperwork generated by a single print job. We should frame it."

Joel smirks, "Well, at least I know how to complicate things."

"What were you printing anyway?" Ellie asks, trying to peek at his laptop.

"Nothing! I mean, there was this form-"

"So a PDF, then?"

"I think so?"

Ellie shoves him aside, grabbing the mouse to check the document. "Joel, this is a Word doc, not a PDF. All you need to do is click on-" her eyes narrow as she looks at the screen, her eyes widening in shock. "Joel, WHAT THE FUCK!"

"Ellie-"

"Are you out of your mind, Joel? Printing this at work? Tess is going to kill you," Ellie admonishes.

"How is she gonna know?"

"Don't you know that Sugar monitors all computer usage for all of the employees? That includes all print jobs, moron!"

"I own this company, Ellie! My computer should be off-limits!"

"Not after the stunt Tommy pulled, getting the servers hacked with all of his explicit internet usage. If you have a bone to pick, take it up with management!"

"Hey! I AM management!"

Ellie shoots him a look as she heads to the door. "Not according to Tess!" She gives him a one-handed salute. "Adios, Romeo!"

[copias-girl]

To Catch a Cardinal: Chapter IX

A/N: Don’t @ me if you can’t actually make a multi-way call on a rotary phone! Reader uses ✨satan magic✨ to make the aesthetic work lol

All chapters here <3

•♥︎𖤐♥︎•

“Yes!” You exclaimed to yourself when you were handed a package by the Mail Ghoul, smacking a kiss right onto the cheek of his cold metal mask, leaving a glossy lip print that surely had the Ghoul blushing and swaying his tail in excitement. You had online ordered a brand spankin’ new bikini, and it had finally arrived. Thanking the Ghoul and closing the door to your room, you impatiently tore the package open, holding up the scandalously tiny scraps of black fabric.

Smirking kittenishly, you hopped onto your bed, laying on your stomach and dialling a few numbers on your ornate black vintage rotary phone.

“Hello?” Mable answered.

“Please hold!” You chirped, patching in another call.

“Hey girlie, what’s up?” Lilith picked up next.

Soon, you had all your girlfriends on the line, chatting while you kicked your feet back and forth on the bed and twirled the telephone cord around your finger.

“Sooo, the sleepover the other day was really fun.” You started.

“Yeah, I bet it was, with your little plaything there.” Emily laughed. “I can’t tell if you kinda like him or if you’re just leading him on for the fun of it.”

“Ooooh, we should speculate on that! Maybe cast bets?” Ava giggled.

“Did you guys hear that? That was the sound of my eyes rolling.” You smirked, giving nothing away. “Anyway, the reason why I called is because I just got my new bikini in the mail! Anyone fancy a beach day?” You asked excitedly.

A chorus of thrilled squeals came through the telephone, and you had to hold the receiver a little away from your head to keep from getting your eardrum blown out.

“You always have the best ideas!” Ava gushed.

“We should invite Rob! I’ll call him right after this!” Emily decided, and this time you hoped the sound of your eyes rolling wasn’t audible through the phone.

“There’s only one problem…” Mable spoke up. “Who’s gonna drive us? It’s shopping day and some ghouls took two groups of siblings to go into town. So they’re using both cars. She explained.

“I think I can get us a ride.” You smirked.

“Oh don’t you go asking that stupid Cardinal!” Emily pleaded, but you were already dead set on your decision.

“Don’t forget sunscreen!” You grinned mischievously, dropping the phone onto the hook with a click!

•𖤐•

A devilish smirk found its way onto your face when you spotted Copia strolling down the hall towards his office. He wasn’t wearing his biretta today, and you wondered if it was because you told him that you liked his hair at the sleepover. You skipped up to him, startling the man by tapping his shoulder.

“Oh! S-Sorella!” Copia gasped, wide eyes nervously darting all around, finding it difficult to look you in the eyes, especially since the kiss at the sleepover.

You just looked so beautiful; Copia didn’t want to get all hot and bothered, and it felt as though he really didn’t know how to act around you. You kept reeling him in with your sweetness, intoxicating him by lavishing your gentle attention on him, but whenever the poor man would start to get comfortable, you’d do something to keep him on his toes.

At the sleepover, you had called him out twice for having a boner, which, admittedly, the Cardinal felt very ashamed about. You’d called him a pervert and made him feel bad, yet you continued to stay near him and even cuddle with him during the movie. Your words didn’t match your actions. He couldn’t tell if you were calling him ‘Rat’ as a pet name or an insult. You were giving poor Copia mixed signals that he didn’t know how to decipher, and the more the dwelled on it, the more confused he got.

“Hi Cardinal.” You coyly twirled a lock of your hair around your finger. “Um, I have a question?”

“S-si?” He asked, swallowing nervously.

“Do you have a car?” You enquired.

“Eh? W-well ehm, y-yes I do.” The Cardinal answered. “Perché?”

“Well, I know it’s a lot to ask but, could you drive me to the beach?” You pouted, and Copia just couldn’t say no to those big doe eyes as you batted your lashes at him.

“Of course, Sorella.” The timid man nodded.

“Oh, you will? Are you sure??” You asked, and he nodded again, a pitiful little smile creeping onto his face at your excited disbelief.

“Thank youuuu!” You squealed, wrapping your arms around his neck as you hugged him.

Copia’s cheeks burned, his body stiffening, gloved hands shakily daring to rest on your waist.

“You really come in clutch, don’t you, Cardi?” You teased, pulling away just enough to look at the man while your hands smoothed over his chest, toying with the hem of his pellegrina.

Copia averted his gaze with a shy little chuckle, staring down at the floor.

Curling a finger under his chin, you lifted his head to meet your gaze once more, intimidating the poor little mouse by silently studying him for a few moments.

“Come have lunch, then we can go.” You took his hand in yours and pulled him towards the dining hall.

“O-okay..!” He followed you like a pathetic puppy dog, blushing furiously as you held his hand.

•𖤐•

“It was like… so weird.” Lilith remarked.

“So she kissed him?” Rob asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, but only because Emily dared her to.” Ava clarified.

“Yeah but… She, like, straight up made out with him for a minute. With way too much tongue.” Mable winced.

“Well why’d you even dare her to do that in the first place?” Rob asked, crossing his arms. It looked as though he was upset that he wasn’t there to protect you.

“She told me to give her a gross dare so I did!” Emily defended herself with a shrug. “It’s not like I dared her to swallow rat man’s entire tongue for fuck’s sakes! I thought she’d suffer through a quick peck and move on.”

“Okay but get this: afterward, she even asked him if it was his first ever kiss and he said it was! He’s fifty years old! And he’s never been kissed! Let that sink in!” Lilith giggled.

“I believe it! I mean, have you seen the guy?? It’s not like the ladies would be lining up to kiss that.” Rob laughed, leaning back in his chair.

“I know right? It was so weird though because then she was all over him during the movie.” Emily wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“Yeah but it was a horror movie, and you know how she gets. When we watched Texas Chainsaw Massacre that one time, she was constricting around me like a serpent!” Mable pointed out.

“I think I’d rather get jump-scared all alone rather than have to cuddle with that pathetic old loser.” Emily snorted, causing Rob to laugh.

“Nema to that! He’s such a little creep about it too! I think I even heard her calling him a perv!” Ava added.

Lilith gasped. “Eww! He was probably getting off on it! He probably had a raging bon-”

•𖤐•

You didn’t let go of the Cardinal’s hand until you had pulled him into the chair next to you as you sat at one of the long tables with all of your friends. You caught the tail end of the group’s conversation, and you could tell they’d been gossiping about you and Copia. You wished you’d been there to hear the full thing; you would have paid actual money to see Rob’s reaction when he was told about you sharing a heated kiss with the rat man.

The table went quiet, your friends clearing their throats awkwardly and looking amongst themselves.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. What were you guys talking about?” You mischievously enquired, taking one of the honey brioche buns out of the basket on the table and buttering it.

“Well, nothi-” Ava murmured, averting her gaze but getting interrupted by Rob.

“Oh hey, lover boy!” He greeted the Cardinal condescendingly. “Did you enjoy getting your jollies from that pity-kiss? Must have been some first, huh?” He sneered before turning to you. “Did you wash your mouth out with bleach, afterwards? Or maybe rat-poison?”

Copia’s breath caught in his throat. Poor thing, his face was as red as the raspberry jam on the table. His dichromatic eyes were pitifully wide, mouth hanging open in utter surprise while the humiliated flush on his cheeks spread across the bridge of his nose and to the tips of his ears like wildfire. He was hurt by Rob’s words; it wasn’t like that at all! He wasn’t getting his jollies from you. It wasn’t his fault that his body reacted so strongly to you; he really did feel terrible about it, but he just couldn’t help the effect you had on him.

You let Copia flounder for a bit before having mercy on him, swooping in to save him.

“Be nice, Rob.” You tutted, gently running your fingers through the soft hair at the base of Copia’s neck, as if he was your little pet. “Co-Co’s the one driving us.”

Everyone rolled their eyes, grumbling quietly while the Cardinal‘s wide gaze snapped up to you upon hearing your cute nickname for him.

“Well, do you guys wanna go to the beach or not? Because Cardinal and I can always just go by ourselves.” You offered casually.

“Aw come on, sweetcheeks!” Rob laughed. “I’m sure your little rat can take a joke, right?” He asked, holding his hand out to Copia.

Like a good sport, the Cardinal nodded, reaching to shake hands, but Rob only scoffed and pulled away just before Copia could take his hand.

“Too slow!” He laughed.

Your poor Cardinal meekly folded his hands in his lap while your friends snickered, congratulating Rob on his cruel trick.

“Could you pass me the cherry jam please?” You asked, giving Copia a little nudge.

The blushing man nodded, nervously reaching for one of the jars on the table and sliding it over to you, his eyes repeatedly flicking to you before staring down at his lap once more.

You opened the jar, tsking in disappointment. Strawberry.

Taking a little spoonful, you turned to Copia. “Does this taste like cherry to you, Rat?” You asked, a bit condescendingly, hooking a finger in his collar to pull him closer as you fed it to him.

The Cardinal’s eyes widened in alarm at his mistake.

“M-m-mi dispiace, Sorella!” He stuttered apologetically, scrambling to get you the correct jar.

“Thank you, Cardinal.” You smiled sweetly at him, dipping your spoon into the tart cherry preserves and holding it up for the man to taste.

With pathetically wide eyes and a quick self conscious glance at your friends, Copia nervously accepted the spoonful, his tongue swiping across his lower lip to catch a drip of the glassy red liquid.

You made a little show out of licking the rest of the sweet cherry nectar off the spoon, and from your peripheral vision you could tell your friends were all staring, unsure of how to react. A wicked little smirk tugging at your lips, not missing the way Copia’s flush deepened as he watched you lave your tongue over the spoon he’d just had in his mouth.

“Mmm so sweet, isn’t it?” You hummed, gazing at your Cardinal while he nervously nodded, stammering out a quiet agreement.

“Well, I’m gonna go get changed and I suggest you all do the same too.” You stood from your seat, placing a hand on Copia’s shoulder. “We’ll meet you out front?”

“S-si, I-I go and, ehm, get the car and- S-si.” He affirmed.

“Don’t forget your swimsuit!” You reminded him in a sing-song voice before slipping off towards your room.

Not wanting to be stuck alone with your friends, Copia awkwardly got up and scurried off to his room.

•𖤐•

You slipped on your brand new bikini, smirking in the mirror at the perfect fit before putting some summer clothes on top. You pulled on your Widow Rat cropped tank top, some black cut off shorts, and your chunky black platform sandals, the ones with the cobweb detailing and the spider ankle clasp. Of course, you had your usual black nail polish on your fingers and toes, and the look couldn’t be complete without your grucifix ankle bracelet.

You grabbed your black beach bag, throwing in your black and white striped towel and coppertone sunblock, snatching your batwing sunglasses on the way out the door and placing them on top of your head.

You strolled to the grand main door of the ministry, meeting your friends who were also all dressed in summer clothes, Rob even holding a black and white beach ball under his arm. You chatted for a while until you heard the sound of keys jingling and clattering to the floor, and you knew your little disaster Cardinal was near.

You turned, seeing the man pathetically fumbling to pick his keys off the ground while balancing a boombox on his shoulder. You grinned endearingly, your eyes sweeping over his form. And he was wearing a different getup for once! You’d only ever seen him in his cassocks, but now he was wearing some sort of burgundy track suit with a t-shirt underneath that said VVLGARI. He had on a different pair of black gloves, ones you suspected he used for casual occasions like this, yet he still wore his dress shoes which looked quite awkward with a sweatsuit.

“Oh, we can listen to music on the beach! Good thinking, Cardinal!” You chirped, and Copia’s nervous expression softened at your excitement. He set the radio down, his painted eyes flicking up and down your body, biting his lower lip at your exposed midriff, arms, and bare legs.

Copia swallowed thickly, trying not to gawk at you like a creep. Smoothing his fingertips over his moustache, he cleared his throat. “I-I- ehm, I like y-your, eh-” He stammered, gesturing to your chest.

“My what? My breasts?” You asked in coquettish confusion.

“N-no! T-that’s not what I-”

“You don’t like my breasts?” You pouted, batting your thick lashes and looking hurt.

The Cardinal’s eyes widened in alarm; he hadn’t intended to insult you! “No no, I-I do! V-very much!” Goddammit, now he was sounding like a creep! “Er-! I-I mean! T-that is not what I- ..I mean- I wasn’t t-trying to, ehm- W-well, what I was t-trying to say, eh-”

You crossed your arms in amusement, watching him struggle to keep his head above water.

“M-mi dispiace, Sorella, I was t-trying to say that I liked your t-t-t-”

“My what, Rat? My t-t-t-tits?” You teased him further, taking a step closer to the poor, distressed, pitiful man.

“Y-your top, Sorella!” Copia finally got it out, red-faced and out of breath from being so tongue-tied.

“Oh! My top!” You giggled in realization, glancing down at your crop top and the image of the rat on it. “Thank you, Cardinal.” You grinned at him, twirling a lock of hair around your finger. Of course you knew what he’d been trying to say all along. Satan, you had the idea to wear that top because of him, because you knew he’d like it. But there wasn’t a more delicious sight than watching poor flustered Copia strain against his own nervousness.

“What a weirdo…” Emily murmured to your friends, shaking her head disapprovingly while the others exchanged whispers of hushed laughter.

“I, ehm- I will go get la macchina..” Copia fidgeted with the hem of his hoodie for a moment, stealing another timid glance at you before heading outside.

You and your group followed and waited on the front steps of the abbey, basking in the warm sun while he went to get his car. In no time, Copia was pulling up in his white 1969 Buick LeSabre, and you all put your bags and the cooler of drinks in the trunk.

“Slick ride, Rat.” You smirked as you slid in shotgun, pressing up against Copia on the bench seat. Lilith got in next to you, while Mable, Ava, Emily, and Rob squeezed into the back.

“G-Grazie..” He blushed, gloved hands tightening their grip on the wheel as you placed a hand on his thigh, under the guise of steadying yourself to make more room for Lilith.

“You can always sit back here if it gets boring up there.” Rob offered.

“I think it’s pretty tight back there.” You turned him down with a smile.

“You could sit on my lap.” He suggested.

Copia’s worried gaze quickly snapped over to you. He felt selfish and foolish for thinking it, but he really didn’t want you sitting on Rob. Copia knew from first-hand experience what would happen, because when you had sat on his lap in the car, the poor Cardinal got so worked up that he came in his pants!

“Thanks, but I feel perfectly comfortable right here.” You replied, daring to rest your hand on Copia’s thigh once more. The Cardinal exhaled shakily in relief as you put his worries to rest. With a timorous little smile at you, he started the car and your road trip to the beach had begun.

•𖤐•

Driving was smooth and streamlined due to the clear and open road. A comfortable silence had fallen upon you all, so you occupied yourself with gazing dreamily at the Cardinal as he drove.

He was a surprisingly good driver, and seeing the sweet man like this only caused your hot passion to swell for him even more; the way he attentively checked his mirrors, eyes wide and focused on the road, licking his lips every so often. You wished you could lick his lips again. Ever since you kissed Copia at the sleepover, you’d had the most insatiable craving for his delicious lips, inexperienced as they may be. Perhaps you’d make out with him again, this time with the clever excuse of letting him use you to practice kissing. He’d feel so terrible and ashamed of himself; a kind young thing like you piteously having to do charity work for a pathetic 50 year old virgin. You bit the inside of your cheek to stifle a wicked grin. Oh, how you longed to nip at him and tease him and overwhelm him with your affection.

You sighed softly, biting your lip and studying the man’s delicious profile; his sharp sideburns, thin moustache, the lines on his face. His pointy, rat-like nose caused the corners of your lips to curl into an endearing little smile. Copia always had a pitifulness about him, but it seemed to be accentuated in this moment as he concentrated on driving, his eyes flicking over to you every so often.

You leaned forward to pop open the glovebox, deciding to snoop around to pass the time. Copia watched as you poked around through his things, finally discovering his music stash. You looked over the selection, grinning at the 1960s Italian tunes, an ABBA tape, and- unholy shit, is that-

“No way! Repugnant and Acid Witch??” You held the tapes up ecstatically. You rifled through more of the cassettes, noticing that your sweet little Cardinal’s music taste was actually very heavy.

“I didn’t know you were a metalhead, Rat.” You giggled, reaching over to pinch at his cheek.

The man smiled bashfully, a pink blush causing his freckles to become more prominent.

“You, eh, you like that?” He glanced at you before flicking his eyes back to the road.

“Satanas, do I ever!” You sighed dreamily. “They’re two of my favourites! I’ve literally gotten noise complaints from blaring Acid Witch late at night. And I think I annoyed everyone by replaying that one random ‘yeehaw’ in Voices of the Dead.” You recounted with an amused giggle.

“Ah! Si, si, I always liked that part!” Copia chuckled. He was genuinely relaxed for once, nearly all of his nervousness melting away. He was delighted to discover that you shared his taste in music. Oh, he could feel himself falling even harder for you. And the fact that you were speaking to him like he was a real person meant the world to him. Poor Copia was so used to people brushing him off at best or insulting him at worst, so it was beyond refreshing to have a conversation where someone wasn’t constantly making backhanded jabs at him. He loved the way your eyes lit up as you enthusiastically spoke with him, inching a bit closer to him on the bench seat and gently placing a hand on his shoulder. It felt as though your friends weren’t even there; hell, the whole world faded into the background as he grew more comfortable with you.

For a moment, Copia even dared to think that he kind of felt a little bit cool. He was- what did the young people call it nowadays? Vibrating? Yes, he was vibrating with you!

“I’m surprised you don’t like something a little more melodic. You know, something you can actually fuck to.” Rob chimed in with a sniff. He had attempted to play it off as a joke, but a slight annoyance was detectable in his voice, no doubt from the fact that you and the Cardinal were hitting it off so well.

“On the contrary! The very best love-making happens when death metal is playing.” You smirked.

Copia’s breath hitched in his throat as he did a triple-take at you, his lips parted and cheeks furiously flushed as he gaped at you for a few moments before having to tear his eyes away and stare at the road again.

“I think the Cardinal would like to agree, but he’s a little too inexperienced on the matter.” Rob sneered, causing your friends to erupt into laughter, covering their mouths and playfully swatting at Rob in congratulations for his joke.

Aaaand there it was. Relaxation? Gone. Coolness? Not even in his vocabulary. Thanks to Rob so kindly pointing out his pathetic virginity, Copia was now back to being the ashamed, humiliated loser whom everyone made fun of. He didn’t even look over to see your reaction, too scared to find you stifling giggles.

After a few moments of silence, you twisted the cap off a water bottle to wet your whistle. However, after taking a drink, the small piece of plastic slipped out of your fingers, bouncing and rolling and finally falling somewhere under the seat.

“Satan in Hell…” You grumbled, handing the opened bottle to Lilith next to you.

“Oh- Ehm, do you want me to-” Copia began to offer, but you only shook your head.

“No, just keep driving, I’ll feel around for it.” You replied, bending down and hooking your arm under the seat.

In fact, you were bending down so far that your head was right in Copia’s lap, your cheek pressed against the bulge in his pants. The man’s mismatched eyes were as wide as cherry pies as he stole a panicked glance down at his lap, already feeling himself growing aroused.

You fished around for the cap, huffing in annoyance when you couldn’t feel it. You reached deeper under the seat, burying your face in Copia’s rapidly hardening cock.

The Cardinal prayed to Satan that you wouldn’t be able to feel his growing erection pressing firmly into your face, and he resisted the urge to grind against your cheek, his breaths beginning to quicken as his heart hammered in his chest.

“What are you doing??” Emily asked.

“Ew, it looks like you’re sucking him off.” Lilith laughed, catching Rob’s attention in the backseat.

“I dropped the stupid water bottle cap and I’m trying to feel around for it.” You murmured, voice muffled by the fabric of Copia’s sweatpants, your words sending vibrations of pleasure through him.

Oh, you looked gorgeous like this, so gorgeous with your head buried in his lap, your tresses of hair flowing all around. The man’s cheeks were on fire as he tried to keep himself calm, tried to steady his breathing. The last thing he wanted to do was cream himself, but it was so difficult when he kept picturing you pleasuring him with your sweet mouth.

Just when the Cardinal felt as though he couldn’t take it anymore, your fingertips finally grasped the cap and you sat upright once more.

“Got it!” You held it up triumphantly before screwing it back onto the bottle. You caught Copia’s gaze, smirking kittenishly at him as mischief twinkled in your eyes.

The Cardinal swallowed thickly, attempting to stabilize his trembling hands on the steering wheel. This was only the car ride. How in Satan’s name would he survive the beach?

𖤐 to be continued 𖤐

[gimmethatagustd]

venor (12) | kth + jjk

The barista at the university’s café keeps telling Jungkook not to come back, but Jungkook is too busy daydreaming about kissing the beauty marks on his face to be paying attention to his warnings.

○ Pairing: Tiger!Taehyung x Bunny!Jungkook

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Hybrids, predator/prey, college au, strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, light angst, eventual smut

○ Word Count: 7,862

○ Warnings: Time for y'all to judge me for my smut writing, loss of virginity, blow job, what the gworlies call self-lubrication aka slick, Taehyung's got a big dick (in every universe imo), size difference, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, anal fingering, unprotected anal sex, alcohol, scenting, marking, self-esteem issues, jealousy, pet names

○ Notes: This is cliche and cute and smutty (don't @ me, I warned you in advance) and 2 days late 😌

○ Post Date: April 2, 2024

○ Masterlist | AO3 Cross-Post

○ What was Jai listening to? The series playlist

Series Masterlist

“Considering everything you’ve put me through, I feel like I shouldn’t have to be here right now.”

The glare that Yoongi gives Jungkook is scary enough to rival the biggest, meanest predator hybrid on campus. It has been three weeks since Yoongi suffered through Jungkook and Taehyung’s little not PG date night, and he still won’t let it go, despite Jungkook’s numerous apologies — both verbal and in the form of sweets— which Jungkook surely thought Yoongi would accept by now. At this point, Jungkook doesn’t know if he should still be embarrassed by the fact that his roommate heard him loudly orgasm or if he should be annoyed that Yoongi won’t stop talking about it.

“Oh, come on, hyung! This is fun!”

“Is it?” Yoongi scowls.

Hooking his arm around Yoongi’s, Jungkook practically drags him through the front doors of the university’s basketball arena. The building is massive and packed with fans hurrying through the ticket lines to get to their seats as the announcer’s deep voice booms over the speakers. The announcement lets everyone know that the game is about to start. For as many months as Jungkook has been getting to know Taehyung, it’s surprising that this is his first time watching Taehyung play.

“Jungkook-ah! Yoongi oppa!”

Suyun waves her arms from where she stands in the lobby, past the ticket lines. She’s so small that Jungkook nearly loses her in the crowd once he and Yoongi have finally made it through the line, their printed tickets clutched between their fists. Luckily, her ears make it easy to relocate her.

“Yay, I’m so excited!” Suyun throws herself into Jungkook and Yoongi to squeeze them together in a hug her scrawny arms can barely maintain. “Let’s hurry up! They’re already playing.”

The sea of college students and locals eager to watch a Saturday evening basketball game against the university’s biggest rival pushes the three friends in waves down the arena’s wide hallways. It’s hard for Jungkook to keep up with where he’s going, easily getting confused by each rounded corner they turn and how everyone looks the same in their white and blue clothing to match the university’s colors. Occasionally, splotches of red and black are in the mix, but the rival’s fans are sparse. Even Jungkook knew how to dress the part, wearing a pair of powder blue overalls with one strap undone and hanging forward to expose more of the white sweater underneath and his all-white Converse. The 90s chic look might make him sweat down to his balls, but he looks cute, and that’s what matters.

“Is our basketball team really that big of a deal?” Yoongi asks, unable to hide the genuine curiosity that seeps through his words.

“How have you gone to school here for four years without knowing, oppa?”

Suyun clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth with a shake of her head as she guides Jungkook and Yoongi down the crowded halls until they reach a large, open doorway. At least Jungkook isn’t the only one new to this.

Thousands of fans are packed in the seats consisting of three separate levels circling the basketball court in the middle of the room. When Jungkook tilts his head back, he thinks he can see people nearly in the building’s rafters. It’s all very overwhelming, but there’s a sense of comradery that makes his body tingle. It’s cool to be part of something bigger than himself! And it especially feels cool knowing that all these people are here to see his Taehyung play.

“Jackson got us really good seats,” Suyun explains as she continues leading them through the crowd, though it’s not as busy down here on the ground level. “They aren’t courtside, but they might as well be.”

Their seats are only a few rows from the court, meaning Jungkook has a clear view of the basketball players huddled around men in suits, who he assumes are the coaching staff. From the huddle, Jungkook spots Jackson’s bushy orange tail and the silvery glint of Hoseok’s scales in the arena’s fluorescent lighting. As he takes his seat in between Suyun and Yoongi, Jungkook searches for the mop of coppery curls he loves so much.

Taehyung spots him first. Having been blocked by another player, Taehyung steps to the side just far enough to see around the huddled group and straight into Jungkook’s wide eyes.

Hey bun, Taehyung mouths to Jungkook with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Waving shyly, Jungkook tries to shoo Taehyung away so he’ll pay attention to whatever his coach is saying. Of course, Taehyung doesn’t listen. Instead, he elbows one of the players standing next to him. Jungkook watches with hot cheeks as Taehyung leans in to say something to the other player before turning to point at Jungkook.

Stop it, Jungkook mouths back, waving Taehyung off again.

The buzzer sounds, notifying the teams that the game is resuming. Taehyung blows a kiss at Jungkook before spinning around to get into place on the court.

“What position is Taehyung?” Yoongi asks over the roar of the crowd as the game advances.

“Point guard,” comes a response from Jungkook’s right. He and Yoongi turn to see a face that has become more familiar over the past few weeks.

“Hi, Jimin hyung,” Jungkook has to project his voice to greet the calico cat hybrid when the crowd boos after the rival team makes a basket.

“Jungkook-ah, Yoongi hyung.”

Jimin nods curtly before slinking into his seat beside Suyun, who immediately scratches behind one of his splotchy, multicolored ears. He sticks his arm down the row of seats to offer a large bag of popcorn, which Yoongi declines, but Jungkook takes a handful of the buttery goodness.

Like most domestic cats, it takes Jimin a while to become comfortable with strangers, so he has only recently started hanging out with Jungkook whenever Taehyung and Hoseok invite them to their apartment. Yoongi’s presence seems to help Jimin feel at ease, perhaps because of their shared prey hybrid species. It’s cute how aloof they are; Jungkook doesn’t know why he finds them so endearing, especially Jimin, who always seems to look simultaneously bored and conniving.

“What does a point guard do?” Jungkook asks between chewing his popcorn. He directs his question to Suyun, though Jimin may also know the answer. Yoongi is just as hopeless as Jungkook.

“Honestly, I don’t really understand all the rules…” Suyun admits sheepishly. “I think it’s Taehyung’s job to help set up the other players so they have the best opportunities to score. He’s always shouting things and telling everyone where to go when he passes the ball and stuff.”

Pride swells in Jungkook’s chest when he sits back to watch the game, knowing that his Taehyung plays an important role. Of course, all the players do, but not all the players are Taehyung, and Taehyung is the one who matters most. Obviously.

“It fits Taehyung. He’s so bossy,” Jimin rolls his eyes and tosses a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

“Is he?” Jungkook has never felt like Taehyung is bossy, but the annoyed look on Jimin’s face tells another story.

“So bossy. But all predators are, aren’t they?”

Yoongi snorts a resounding, “Yeah, they are,” while Suyun insists, “They’re not all like that.”

“Jackson doesn’t count,” Jimin licks his buttery lips, “He’s so whipped for you.”

“And Taehyung is whipped for Jungkookie,” Suyun giggles at Jungkook’s pink face.

“Let’s just watch the game…” Jungkook angrily scrunches his nose and glares at his friends until there’s more shouting from the crowd, and he quickly turns back to the court to see what he’s missed.

For the rest of the game, Jungkook won’t take his eyes off Taehyung, who spends it sprinting up and down the court, only taking a few breaks. He looks good in their university’s blue basketball uniform. The sleeveless jersey shows off the definition of his arms, especially when he raises them and bends them at the elbow to prepare to shoot or rushes down the court while dribbling the basketball. There’s too much distance between them to tell, but Jungkook is sure all the movement has made Taehyung’s veins raise slightly in his forearms — an occurrence capable of causing Jungkook ultimate psychological damage if he witnesses it up close. It’s good that Jackson got them seats that aren’t too close.

There aren’t many timeouts, but Taehyung takes advantage of the few scattered throughout the game to wink at Jungkook and blow him kisses. It makes Jungkook feel warm and fuzzy inside, something unordinary and special, like Taehyung is some kind of celebrity and Jungkook is the fan he’s fallen in love with. Unfortunately, his little dreamworld is rudely interrupted by obnoxious squealing.

“Did Kim Taehyung just blow a kiss at you?”

“I don’t know!”

“Oh my god, he totally did!”

Jungkook turns around to look at the group of girls sitting in the row behind him. Interestingly, the group is a mix of predator and prey hybrids, which Jungkook would usually find cute, but the current circumstances sour that realization. There’s no way these girls can possibly think that his Taehyung would be showering them with affection, girls he doesn’t even personally know! It takes everything in Jungkook’s power to slowly turn back around and stamp down the ugly feeling of jealousy that eats away at him like acid in his gut. He felt this once before, when Taehyung spoke with his friend in the library, and he hates it just as much now as he had then.

“You good, kid?” Yoongi asks with a flick of his tail against Jungkook’s arm to get his attention.

“Mhm…”

Jungkook’s response isn’t convincing, but the game is nearly over, and Yoongi can’t interrogate him in the middle of a basketball arena, so Yoongi lets the conversation go. The girls’ comments are harmless, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t important. To Jungkook, they’re a reminder of the one thing he desperately craves from Taehyung and still doesn’t know how to ask for: commitment.

Their university wins because of an iconic three-point basket made by Hoseok right before time runs out. The entire arena erupts in screaming and chants of his name—including Yoongi, whom Jungkook has never seen so animated. It’s cute, and it makes Jungkook wonder why Yoongi agreed to attend the basketball game with him.

It takes a while after the game ends for the players to return from the locker rooms. Jungkook, Suyun, Yoongi, and Jimin stand around the side of the basketball court, finishing up the last of Jimin’s popcorn and passing around an extra-large soda Suyun convinced Yoongi to pay for during the game’s halftime. It isn’t a sufficient dinner considering the group plans to go out drinking after this, but part of Jungkook was hoping that the guys on the team would be too tired to go out. Although Jungkook has yet to experience the city’s nightlife, he thinks he’d rather get cozy in bed with Taehyung and spend the rest of the night with each other. It’s Suyun and Jackson’s fault that everyone has jumped onto the idea of clubbing; it’s always their fault if the plans include drinking. Little, quiet Suyun! Jungkook never knew he was missing out on this side of her personality until he started hanging out with predator hybrids.

The first player to return is the one Jungkook has ignored all night. Byungchul has made himself scarce ever since the altercation at Jackson’s house. Although Jungkook is no longer angry or afraid, he’s still uncomfortable, and that’s enough to not want to be near Byungchul if he doesn’t have to be. So, when he realizes that Byungchul is heading straight for him, Jungkook finds it difficult to look him in the eyes.

“Hi,” Byungchul greets the floor once he approaches Jungkook, also avoiding eye contact.

Trying not to sound mean or defensive, Jungkook is quiet and slow when he responds, “Hello…”

Byungchul’s gray wolf tail hangs so low that it drags on the floor and his ears are flat to his head and only visible because the gray fur stands out against his black hair. His hair and fur are wet from showering in the locker room, and he’s wearing a university-branded tracksuit and a backpack thrown over one shoulder. Despite being much bigger than Jungkook, he looks small.

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry I was such an asshole to you and your friends. And, well, my friends, too,” Byungchul takes a deep breath and finally meets Jungkook’s gaze. His expression is softer than Jungkook has ever seen; the typically harsh, almost hateful look melted away into something less severe and almost… sad.

“No one put me up to this or anything,” Byungchul continues, “I was being a dick, and it fucked with the team’s dynamic, and, I don’t know, I realized it was all stupid. I know Suyun and Jimin are cool. And you must be cool if hyung likes you so much.”

Byungchul pauses for a moment to give Yoongi a strange look, with his eyebrows furrowed and his head slightly tilted to one side.

“I have no idea who you are, but, uh, I’m sure you’re cool, too.”

With a snort and a roll of his eyes, Yoongi mutters, “Cooler than any of you will ever be,” before walking off to throw away the empty soda cup.

“Anyway, yeah, that’s… that’s all I wanted to say.”

“Thank you for apologizing,” Jungkook says with heated cheeks because his senses alert him to the presence of Taehyung returning from the locker room with Hoseok and Jackson.

Byungchul must also grow shy from the sudden audience because he doesn’t say anything else. With a slight bow of his head, he bids everyone a silent goodbye and jogs over to a few other players hanging out by the exit, waiting for him. It’s odd to see Byungchul so quiet and not the boisterous, aggressive bully he wanted to make himself seem like. Despite understanding that Byungchul behaved from a place of insecurity, Jungkook is still confused by him. Jungkook can’t imagine ever wanting to make himself out to be a bad guy.

“Everyone alright?” Hoseok asks as he approaches the quiet group of prey hybrids.

Almost immediately, Jimin breaks away from the other prey to latch himself to Hoseok’s side, giving Taehyung a pinch on his arm on his way over.

“Jimin-ah!” Taehyung swats at the calico with a hiss, and Jungkook can’t help but giggle when Jimin hisses right back. Cats. How has Jungkook managed to surround himself with them?

“Byungchul apologized to Jungkook,” Suyun explains as she beckons for Yoongi to hurry up before the group leaves.

“Shocking, really,” Jimin says with a smirk, “Considering how big predators’ egos are, I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to find the capacity for empathy.”

Rather than be offended, Hoseok snickers. His laughter is a strange mix of hisses and giggles, making Jimin’s smirk morph into something a little closer to a genuine smile.

Jungkook isn’t the best at reading people’s scents to determine their moods, but he has lived with Yoongi long enough to tell when he’s getting worked up for whatever reason. The sour spike in Yoongi’s citrus scent doesn’t match the blush that paints his cheeks when Jimin begins openly scenting Hoseok by nuzzling his neck.

“Ugh, enough of Byungchul, I’m so tired of talking about all that bullshit,” Jackson groans. “Who needs a ride to my place? I can fit four other people.”

They’re all grown adults in college, but it takes counting on their fingers to figure out who goes in which car. Taehyung doesn’t bother worrying about it; he’s got his eyes on Jungkook while everyone else plans their next moves for the night. Jungkook tries not to stare at him, and he’s even proud of himself for not latching onto him — mainly because Jungkook promised Yoongi that he wouldn’t leave him alone with all the couples doing coupley things like a seventh wheel.

“Taehyung,” Hoseok pushes him on the shoulder for not paying attention. “Is it cool if you and Jungkook drive together?”

Taehyung’s grin is boxy and boyish when he replies, “I mean, I guess.”

Jungkook and Taehyung walk back to Taehyung’s dorm while their friends clamber into Jackson’s car. Whereas Jackson already showered in the arena’s locker room, Hoseok is too disgusted by the idea of showering where “who knows how many other athletes have showered,” and Taehyung is too married to his skincare regime to shower anywhere other than in his own bathroom. They split up, allowing Hoseok to get ready for the night at Jackson’s house and Taehyung the ease of not needing to share the bathroom in their apartment.

Jungkook is just happy to go wherever Taehyung goes.

“Did you have fun?” Taehyung asks with his lips pressed against the soft fur of Jungkook’s bunny ear. It tickles, and Jungkook tries to escape, but Taehyung’s arm is draped over his shoulders to pull him back in.

“Mhm, I had no idea what was going on, though,” Jungkook admits, laughing lightly when he remembers Suyun and Jimin trying to explain the rules, only for Yoongi to look them up online and find that they were wrong.

“I should have prepped you beforehand.”

Jungkook shrugs.

“We should play together instead. I think I could beat you.”

Taehyung steps away from Jungkook to open the front door of the residence hall. He gives Jungkook a shocked look, eyebrows raised, and one corner of his mouth tweaked into a half-smirk.

“Oh, really? You think you could?”

Jungkook pushes past Taehyung and leads them to the stairwell, skipping the elevator like always.

“I probably work out more than you,” Jungkook purposely gives Taehyung a long, hard look that drags from his feet to the fuzzy, striped ears on his head. “I’m strong and definitely more agile than you are.”

It’s all fun and games, just silly shit-talking until Taehyung gets that wild look in his eyes. Jungkook spins on his heel and launches himself up the stairs, taking them two at a time, knowing Taehyung is right behind him. He has the advantage of being lighter on his feet and not having been playing sports for nearly two hours straight, so he manages to scramble up the stairs without getting snatched until they’re outside Taehyung’s apartment door.

“Did you forget I’m a cute little bunny?” Jungkook teases through his heavy breathing, which matches Taehyung’s panting. “Hopping up the stairs is easy. I’ve got a good bounce to me.”

Pressed with his back against the door, Jungkook looks up into Taehyung’s eyes with his chin raised and a smug look on his face that quickly falters when Taehyung says,

“You bouncing sounds fun.”

“Ah, open the door, Tae!” Jungkook shoves Taehyung in the chest, forcing him to give Jungkook space to move away from the door. “You’re gross.”

Chuckling, Taehyung does as he’s told. 

“I’m going to shower now, but I’ll be quick,” Taehyung murmurs with a kiss on Jungkook’s forehead, his short exhale ruffling Jungkook’s bangs.

Jungkook smiles in response as Taehyung disappears through the bathroom door. Once the door clicks shut, he turns around and retreats into Taehyung’s bedroom. He likes the feel of Taehyung’s bedroom the most out of all the rooms in the apartment. The green walls and plants and earth-toned furniture are comforting. There must be some psychology about why natural hues induce relaxation in hybrids; Jungkook is sure it’s part of their biology. Or perhaps he feels relaxed as he flops onto his stomach on the bed because the comforter smells like Taehyung, and he can already sense how their scents dance around each other, mixing to create the aroma of peaceful spring rain. Perhaps Jungkook’s sense of comfort is a little bit of both, a combination of nature and nurture.

Catching himself metaphorically drooling over Taehyung yet again, Jungkook gives himself permission to keep gushing over the boy in his head. When Jungkook started getting to know Taehyung, he was a starry-eyed, silly bunny determined to crack the mysterious tiger’s hard exterior. Now, he sees Taehyung for what he really is: a quiet, somewhat reserved boy who feels deeply and has a heart of gold. 

As for Jungkook, he doesn’t think he’s very different from the bunny he was when he first transferred all those months ago. His identity hasn’t changed much, but how he thinks about himself has. He’s still starry-eyed and silly, but he’s confident in his desire to be a kind and accepting person, and he no longer worries about being considered naive.

Jungkook props himself up on Taehyung’s pillow as he sprawls out on the bed, phone in hand, to scroll through his phone for music to play on Taehyung’s speaker while he waits for Taehyung to finish showering. Most of his recent music has been random lofi playlists Taehyung showed him, perfect for relaxing or studying. Those don’t seem particularly fitting to prepare to go clubbing, so Jungkook searches for a playlist with a decent mix of mainstream hip-hop and pop songs to bop his head along to while he aimlessly scrolls through social media.

It’s still early, and Jungkook is sure that the rest of their friends will take a while to get ready, even with Jackson’s house having multiple bathrooms. Luckily, Suyun and Yoongi were already prepared to go out after the game; it’s the basketball players and Jimin who should be concerned about taking too long.

Jungkook can’t help but giggle when he thinks about his friends, particularly his poor Yoongi hyung, squished between Hoseok and Jimin in the backseat of Jackson’s car. He looked terrified — with his orange tail clutched in one hand to prevent anyone from accidentally sitting on it and his ears flattened against his hair — as if he didn’t love having two pretty boys trying to talk to him all night. 

With the right amount of alcohol, Yoongi will loosen up enough to enjoy himself despite going out not being high on his list of favorite things to do. It might not even be high on Jungkook’s list of favorite things to do, but considering he hasn’t ever gone clubbing before, he’s not sure. All he knows is that Taehyung is responsible for ensuring he doesn’t get messy, as Suyun said. 

Not long after Jungkook texts Yoongi and Suyun to confirm which nightclub Jackson wants everyone to meet up at, he hears the bathroom door open. Taehyung is always light on his feet, hardly making a sound as he walks down the hallway. Sneaky, a quality not uncommon for a predator hybrid.

Pushing himself up, Jungkook settles for sitting in the middle of Taehyung’s bed and turns toward the door when Taehyung crosses the threshold.

“Jackson said we should go to…”

Jungkook trails off, the name of the nightclub escaping out of his brain through his ears like all his common sense and body’s ability to remember how to breathe. Frozen in place, the only things that move on Jungkook are his throat when he swallows, despite how dry his mouth has gotten, and his eyes that follow Taehyung to his closet.

Seeing Taehyung shirtless isn’t shocking; they’ve slept in the same bed a few times, and Taehyung usually sleeps shirtless. Seeing Taehyung wearing only a fluffy white towel that sits low on his hips, with a few stray beads of water trickling down his chest and his copper hair slicked back away from his face… seeing that is more than Jungkook’s little soul can bear.

When Jungkook doesn’t speak, Taehyung turns around to look at him, his forehead wrinkled with worry lines.

“Bun? Go where?”

Heat climbs up Jungkook’s neck like scorching pinpricks in his skin when he realizes he has forgotten what he was supposed to say. It takes everything in his power to stare into Taehyung’s eyes instead of at the swell of his pecs and how his arms flex as he sorts through the clothes hanging in his closet.

“Um,” Jungkook quickly looks down at his phone, using clumsy fingers to open Suyun and Yoongi’s text messages. If he doesn’t chill out, he’s going to lose to his naturally horny bunny instincts, and he cannot do that right now. “Singularity. That’s the, uh…”

“Club?” Taehyung offers, one corner of his mouth twitching like he wants to smile or laugh but is holding it in.

“Yes.”

“Do you know what time?”

Jungkook keeps his head down, using his ears and bangs to hide from Taehyung as he sorts through his text messages with trembling thumbs. He needs to calm down before he embarrasses himself.

“Suyun said thirty minutes, but Yoongi hyung said an hour,” Jungkook responds after deep breaths. “I’d trust hyung more, honestly.”

The slide of Taehyung’s fingers in Jungkook’s hair makes him look up from his phone. He tilts his head back far enough that he can look directly into Taehyung’s eyes — and not at his crotch, which is much closer to Jungkook’s face now that Taehyung stands at the edge of the bed.

“That’s enough time,” Taehyung reassures as he massages the base of Jungkook’s ears. The gentle caresses make Jungkook’s eyes flutter.

“Enough time for what?” Jungkook asks and leans into Taehyung’s touch.

Using his grip on Jungkook’s hair, Taehyung guides Jungkook closer until he’s kneeling on the bed in front of Taehyung, making it easier for Taehyung to whisper his response against Jungkook’s lips,

“For me to help you find new pants.”

Huffing, Jungkook tries to voice a complaint, embarrassed that it seems Taehyung will never let this terrible joke die, but Taehyung slots their lips together faster than Jungkook can keep up. 

Taehyung isn’t slow this time, and although he keeps his promise of being gentle, there’s more force in how he handles Jungkook as if he’s no longer concerned about scaring him. He digs his fingers into Jungkook’s silky black hair and tugs on the strands, not harshly, but enough to force Jungkook to tilt his head to the side so Taehyung can deepen the kiss. It’s wet and hot, Taehyung shoving his tongue in Jungkook’s mouth, curling his tongue around Jungkook’s like he curls his arm around his waist to pull him closer. 

“I can smell it on you,” Taehyung murmurs when he moves to nuzzle Jungkook’s throat, dragging his nose and pink lips along his soft skin. 

“W-What?” 

“How turned on you are. Don’t need you to get wet to know.” 

Taehyung bites Jungkook’s neck just above the scent gland where a mating bite is meant to go. Jungkook’s neck has been littered with deep red, almost purple, bruises ever since that night Taehyung lost control of himself. Jungkook thinks it’s another way for Taehyung to claim him, like mating bites that disappear rather than stay forever. Yoongi’s warning about mating echoes in Jungkook’s mind when Taehyung bites him again with enough pressure to leave an intent in his skin but not enough for it to hurt. 

It feels good. Jungkook whimpers as he hesitantly grabs the back of Taehyung’s head to keep him against his neck when he tries to pull away. 

“Shit,” Taehyung groans, and goosebumps spring up along Jungkook’s skin when he scrapes his teeth against his throat, “You like that? Like it when I leave marks on you?” 

Jungkook nods with his eyes fluttering closed, just a small hum in response. 

“Want me to bite you?” Taehyung’s warm, hypnotizing voice draws Jungkook in. It’s low and soothing, with a tantalizing edge that makes a shudder run through Jungkook’s body. 

“Please,” Jungkook whispers as Taehyung trails kisses along his jaw. 

“Want me to mate you, bun? Make you mine?” 

Tugging Taehyung’s hair, Jungkook pulls him backward until they both fall onto the bed with Jungkook on his back and Taehyung hovering over him. 

“Yes, Tae,” Jungkook begs, hardly knowing what he’s saying but can’t stop himself, as though Taehyung has genuinely hypnotized him. His voice is frantic, breathy, and pathetic like he needs it.

“Mmm, you know I can’t,” Taehyung smiles against the apple of Jungkook’s cheek, opening his mouth slightly to press his blunt front teeth there, too. “You naughty bunny. Don’t even know what you’re asking me.” 

Taehyung muffles Jungkook’s whine with his mouth, sucking his tongue with a slight bob to his head as he reaches with one hand in between their bodies to unclasp the other strap of Jungkook’s overalls. Pulling the flap down, he slips his hand beneath Jungkook’s sweater to run his fingers along his warm skin.

“Why are your clothes so complicated?” Taehyung leans back to kneel between Jungkook’s legs, which are bent at the knees and spread open to accommodate him.

“It’s a cute outfit,” Jungkook pouts, making Taehyung’s huffy expression blossom into a boyish grin.

“You do look really cute. I couldn’t stop looking at you.”

“I noticed.”

Taehyung’s slow curl of his fingers around the waist of Jungkook’s overalls is a silent request. Jungkook’s raise of his hips is the silent granting of permission.

“Almost fucked up that free throw because I could hear you cheering for me.”

Too distracted by what Taehyung is doing, Jungkook can’t bring himself to protest Taehyung’s accusations. How dare Taehyung blame him when all he was trying to do was give Taehyung encouragement! The complaint is lost, gently brushed to the side by Taehyung’s gentle caresses as he helps Jungkook take off the rest of his clothes, leaving a pile of white and powder blue amongst the swath of browns and greens that is his bedroom.

“You’re cute, but you’re also beautiful,” Taehyung’s tone is soft, as are his touches as he runs his hands up and down Jungkook’s bare torso.

It’s the first time Jungkook has been fully naked in front of Taehyung, in front of anyone. He thought he would be more nervous, that he would be petrified by insecurities. Instead, he feels heat spreading through his body, little fires burning in his chest and the inside of his thighs, like electrical sparks setting off flames in his veins. The longer Taehyung stares at his body, exploring it with light fingertips that flick his brown, perky nipples and skate across his hip bones, the hotter the fires burn.

Jungkook knows he’s attractive; people have always praised him for being pretty. But Jungkook doesn’t want to be pretty or cute; he wants to be hot, like the heat Taehyung’s gaze stirs inside him.

Leaning forward, Taehyung sucks one of Jungkook’s nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it to hear the weak whimper that the action elicits from Jungkook.

“Ahh, Tae,” Jungkook curves his spine to press his chest against Taehyung’s mouth and digs his fingers in his damp hair when Taehyung lets go of one nipple to drag his lips across his sternum, sucking and licking the other once he reaches it.

“Hoseok hyung isn’t home,” Taehyung murmurs against Jungkook’s chest as he tosses his towel onto the floor.

Initially, the comment doesn’t sink in for Jungkook. He’s caught up in the wet kisses Taehyung plants down his stomach and the wave of slick-inducing pleasure that overtakes him when Taehyung takes his cock in his mouth. It takes barely any time for Taehyung to suck Jungkook until he’s fully hard, and it isn’t until he’s guiding Jungkook to turn around on his hands and knees when it finally hits him.

No one else is home.

The moan Taehyung coaxes out of Jungkook when he presses two fingers into his hole is uninhibited because there’s no one to offend by how loud he is. His moans come out stunted and quick with every thrust of Taehyung’s fingers. Eventually, they stretch out and shift into a higher pitch once Taehyung finds his prostate and focuses on pressing that spot every time he fucks into him with his fingers.

“You’re so wet, I don’t even think you need any prep,” Taehyung groans as he inserts a third finger.

Jungkook lowers onto his forearms to press his forehead against the mattress, unable to keep himself up when his arms shake so severely. He does his best to rock with Taehyung’s movements but is too embarrassed by how uncoordinated he is compared to Taehyung.

“It feels good,” Jungkook sighs when Taehyung pulls his fingers out.

“Yeah?”

Nodding, Jungkook twists around to meet Taehyung’s dark gaze. He’s got that look again, ardent and wild, with dilated pupils and his scent so strong that Jungkook can imagine the two of them getting lost in a thunderstorm of Taehyung’s making. It stirs that primal urge to run, to get away from the predator that drapes his body over Jungkook’s, pressing him into the mattress on his stomach so he can grind his cock in between his cheeks with practiced precision.

“What do you want, bun?” Taehyung’s breath comes out in hot puffs against Jungkook’s neck.

What does Jungkook want?

He digs his fingers into the bed sheets and turns his head to the side so Taehyung can kiss him. Each smooth, slow roll of Taehyung’s hips against his ass gently pushes him up the bed. It feels so good, even though the nerves about what they’re doing are finally starting to kick in. He can hardly breathe when Taehyung nips at his neck where his scent gland is.

What does Jungkook want?

“I want you.”

Taehyung’s hips still. He nuzzles his face further into Jungkook’s neck and leaves kisses there, each one planted on top of the sore hickeys he’d bitten and sucked onto Jungkook’s skin. There are so many reminders of the commitment they could have, but neither will offer out loud.

“Want me to fuck you, Jungkook?” His name sounds rough, coming from Taehyung, like a growl pulled from deep inside his chest.

“Please.”

Pressing his forehead to Jungkook’s shoulder, Taehyung whispers a quiet “Fuck,” before sitting back on his knees.

“I want you to ride me.”

It’s a command, even though it’s spoken softly. Jungkook could say no if he wanted to; he knows Taehyung would respect him. But he also feels like his instincts tell him that he must obey this predator who looms over him with a hungry glint in his eyes.

“I won’t be good,” Jungkook mutters as Taehyung trades places with him. He’s gorgeous, laid out on the bed, honey gold skin against white sheets, and his hair dry enough to start getting fluffy and poofy atop his head. Jungkook may be gorgeous, too, but he’s inadequate in other ways.

“What do you mean?” Taehyung leans slightly to reach for Jungkook, guiding him to straddle his hips like before.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, and you’ve…”

“I’ve what?”

Biting his lip, Jungkook looks off into the room, his eyes landing on his reflection in the darkened window. Seeing a distorted image of himself on top of Taehyung makes him even more nervous.

“You’ve had sex with other people before,” Jungkook says quietly.

“Bun,” Taehyung squeezes Jungkook’s tiny waist and glides his palms upward until they rest on his chest. “This is about me and you, that’s it. The other people are in the past for a reason. And I’d never judge you. You’re so perfect, Jungkook. You do it for me just by being you. I don’t care about you being ‘good’ or ‘bad’ or whatever. You’re you, and that’s enough, alright?”

Jungkook rests his hands on Taehyung’s and keeps them cradled to his chest when he nods in understanding. Maybe he’s naive, but he believes Taehyung, even though his insecurities tell him not to.

“I want you to ride me so you can determine our pace, okay?” Taehyung explains, and Jungkook nods again. “You can control how much you take, so you’re more comfortable. If I’m on top, I might hurt you.”

A bit of primal fear returns, spiking through Jungkook’s fiery veins with a shot of ice. Although they joke around about their differences, the reality is that Taehyung is bigger and stronger than Jungkook. He genuinely could hurt him, especially with this being Jungkook’s first time.

Choosing to trust him, Jungkook lets go of Taehyung’s hands so he can rest them on Jungkook’s waist. It feels nice having Taehyung’s hands there, like a comforting pressure to remind Jungkook that he has someone to support him through this.

“Okay,” Jungkook confirms breathily, with a sigh. “Okay. I’m ready.”

He wants to be sexy, but he doesn’t know if he can be when he’s trembling with nerves along with excitement. Taehyung genuinely doesn’t seem to mind. He rubs Jungkook’s sides, lightly dragging his nails across his ribs and occasionally brushing over his nipples while Jungkook works up the courage to do this.

“Do you want me to help? I can sit up and—”

“No!” Jungkook blushes from his sudden outburst, but Taehyung just grins.

“Alright, alright,” Taehyung says, lying back and crossing his arms behind his head. “I’ll be over here minding my own business.”

Something about the nonchalant pose makes Jungkook’s stomach flip, and not just because it makes Taehyung’s biceps bulge. Forcing himself out of that mindset, Jungkook presses his palm against Taehyung’s chest to steady himself as he leans forward, lifting onto his knees.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Taehyung murmurs as Jungkook reaches behind himself to gently grab Taehyung’s cock. He keeps his promise by staying still and letting Jungkook guide his cock, slippery with Jungkook’s slick, to his hole.

Jungkook is so wet that he takes Taehyung’s cock much easier than he expected, even with how thick it is. Still, it’s a lot, especially for a prey hybrid’s first time, and Jungkook’s body trembles as he sinks further down, taking it slow like Taehyung told him to.

“Tae,” Jungkook whimpers once Taehyung is fully inside him.

“Fuck, look at you.” Taehyung runs his palms up Jungkook’s thighs until he reaches his waist, giving him a light squeeze. “How do you feel, bun?”

“You’re big,” Jungkook’s voice trembles as severely as his body.

“Mmm,” Taehyung smirks, wild eyes sparkling despite their darkness. “That’s what I like to hear.”

Playfully hitting Taehyung’s firm chest with his fist, Jungkook scolds him for his vulgar comment during such a serious moment.

“Oh my god, Tae, shut up.”

Dropping the cocky attitude, Taehyung’s features soften despite maintaining the wild look, still stroking Jungkook’s instinct to run. Taehyung lightly squeezes Jungkook’s hips, pulling him forward just enough to understand the silent cue to start moving if he feels comfortable.

So Jungkook does, at first leaning forward with his hands holding Taehyung’s pecs as he tries rolling his hips. The angle lets him adjust to Taehyung’s size better, slowly easing away the stretch and light discomfort he’d felt earlier until he’s whimpering and calling Taehyung’s name in a rushed chant.

“Lean back a little,” Taehyung instructs as he bends his knees slightly so Jungkook has something to hold onto. “It’ll feel better if my little bunny bounces.”

The bad thing about being on top is that Jungkook can’t hide from Taehyung’s teasing. All he can do is blush until his face is on fire, and then do exactly as Taehyung says, lifting and easing down until he is bouncing on Taehyung’s cock.

“Oh my god, oh god,” Jungkook nearly wails when Taehyung grabs his hands and intertwines their fingers.

“Yeah, fuck yourself on my cock, baby,” Taehyung groans, “You look so pretty, fuck.” He squeezes Jungkook’s hands so tightly that it hurts, but Jungkook doesn’t care because Taehyung didn’t call him bun; he called him baby.

“Again, Tae,” Jungkook gasps, letting his head lull to the side as he moves. “Call me that again.”

Taehyung lets go of Jungkook’s hand and reaches up to wrap his hand around his throat, using his grip to force Jungkook to look at him.

“Hmm? What? Call you baby?”

With a quiet whine, Jungkook nods his head. He doesn’t think he’ll survive the swell of affection he feels inside his chest when Taehyung grins with so much boyish charm and repeats himself,

“Baby, you’re my baby, Jungkook-ah. Didn’t you know?”

“Harder,” Jungkook whispers in response, too overwhelmed to articulate himself in any other way.

That one word is all Taehyung needs, though. His hands find Jungkook’s waist as he plants his feet and thrusts upward, pulling Jungkook down on his cock to meet each thrust. It’s a miracle they found time to be alone, with Jungkook a crying, babbling, moaning mess on top of Taehyung, completely resigned to being a pillow princess who can do nothing but hold on as Taehyung fucks into him. It’s hard and fast, so desperate that Taehyung was otherwise good at hiding. His fingers dig into Jungkook’s hips hard enough to leave bruises that will match the ones scattered across his neck and collarbones, but Jungkook doesn’t care. He likes it.

“Feel good, baby?”

Jungkook nods quickly, not bothering to speak through his sounds of pleasure. He leans forward slightly to slide his hands through Taehyung’s hair and rubs his fuzzy tiger ears once his fingertips brush against them. The deep purr he gets in response makes him touch Taehyung more.

“Gonna cum with me, baby? Can you do that for me?”

He nods again as Taehyung grabs Jungkook’s cock and starts jerking him off at the same pace he fucks him. The buildup of pleasure has Jungkook wound so tightly that it only takes a few pumps before he cums with a loud sob.

“Fuck,” Taehyung hisses, continuing to jerk Jungkook off even when he starts to cry. He doesn’t stop until Jungkook cums for a second time, with Taehyung as he finally finds his release.

Jungkook can feel the moment Taehyung relaxes, when his hungry fervor slowly seeps away and exhaustion takes over. He feels it in himself, too, his arms and legs losing strength until Jungkook thinks he’s just a blob slumped onto Taehyung’s heaving chest.

“I didn’t pass out while conscious,” Jungkook whispers and Taehyung weakly laughs.

“Does that mean I didn’t perform well?”

Taehyung is cheeky and fishing for compliments that Jungkook will gladly give him.

“It was really nice, Tae,” Jungkook speaks against Taehyung’s neck, where he nuzzles his face to scent him despite them being covered in each other’s scents from sex. “I’m happy it was with you.”

There’s so much more Jungkook wants to say, but he can’t. Not now, when it could ruin the moment. Not now, when they must slowly pry themselves from each other and take another shower because Jungkook’s slick and cum are all over them. Later. Jungkook will tell Taehyung later, tell him everything he’s afraid to say as they cram into the shower together and take turns washing each other’s hair.

He promises himself that he’ll tell Taehyung later. 

-

Clubbing isn’t as terrible as Jungkook feared it would be. It’s pretty fun, though he wonders if he’s having a good time because he’s under the spell of a particular tiger hybrid with a dazzling smile and warm eyes that crinkle every time they happen to fall on Jungkook’s from across the room. Jungkook is also drunk, so that could also impact the level of enthusiasm he has when Suyun drags him out onto the dancefloor.

“You look unusually happy,” she shouts over the loud music with a hoarse voice.

“I’m always happy!” Jungkook gives Suyun a deep pout.

“Well, yeah, but like, more than usual!”

Jungkook doesn’t know if there’s such a thing as a post-sex afterglow, but he really hopes that Suyun doesn’t make any connections to what transpired before he and Taehyung arrived at the nightclub. He wonders if Taehyung has already told his friends or if they can tell.

Biting his lip, Jungkook looks away from Suyun’s swaying dance moves and finds Taehyung leaning against the bar with Jackson and the pretty panther predator Jungkook remembers from the library, Ten.

“Oh, I know what it is,” Suyun giggles and gulps half her drink. Jungkook has the same kind, though he doesn’t remember what it is; aside from that, it’s more vodka than anything else.

“What? No, you don’t!” Jungkook shoves Suyun, and she shoves him back until they’re both play-fighting while the other clubbers try to grind on each other. “Stop it!”

“You’re in looooove, Jungkook-ah! You’re all glowy in the face because you’re in love!”

“Shut up!”

“What, are you afraid he’ll hear me?” Suyun’s eyes are large and glazed over when she turns around to look for Taehyung. “Maybe I should tell him for you. TAEHYUNG! JUNGKOOK WANTS YOU TO KNOW THAT—”

Jungkook grabs Suyun’s arm and yanks her hard enough that she stumbles into him, causing the two of them to nearly trip. Some kind stranger struggles to straighten them up, but the damage is done. When Jungkook looks again, Taehyung and Ten are already walking over.

“Suyun, please,” Jungkook pleads with his big, round, starry eyes that typically get him what he wants.

Before he can get Suyun to promise not to completely ruin his life, Taehyung and Ten approach them.

“What’s up, bun?”

Taehyung reaches for Jungkook’s hand and intertwines their fingers. Despite it being an innocent gesture, arousal spikes through his stomach. Just over an hour ago, Taehyung had intertwined their fingers in an entirely different context.

Jungkook feels Taehyung’s tail curl around his calf and playfully tug him, and he’s reminded that Taehyung said Jungkook didn’t need to slick for him to smell his arousal. That knowledge makes him nervous like he’s going to be found out for being a horny freak. Taehyung’s smile is soft and innocent when he looks up, so maybe Jungkook is in the clear.

“Suyun is just being silly,” Jungkook explains, shooting Suyun a look.

Suyun shrugs, “I’m drunk.”

Taehyung snorts and gestures with a nod toward the bar.

“Jackson is over there. You should have him get you some water.”

Suyun skips away with an annoyed sigh, leaving Jungkook with Taehyung. and Ten, who gives Jungkook an odd look.

“I don’t think Taehyung properly introduced us,” Ten says with a pretty smile that makes Jungkook nervous. Jungkook doesn’t particularly want to be properly introduced to him.

“Ah, shit, sorry, I’m bad at introductions,” Taehyung apologizes with a laugh that eases Jungkook’s nerves. “Ten, this is my boyfriend, Jungkook.”

Boyfriend.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jungkook,” Ten says sweetly, though it seems obvious to Jungkook that the airiness to his voice is forced. “No wonder Taehyung hasn’t been around much lately. I hope you’re keeping him out of trouble.”

Jungkook twists to look up at Taehyung’s sparkling eyes and can’t stop himself from wiggling further into his side. Taehyung loops his arm around Jungkook’s waist and nuzzles his cheek against his soft bunny ears, and Jungkook feels like he might die from how quickly his heart is beating.

“He’s getting me into trouble, actually,” Jungkook admits sheepishly, and Ten throws his head back in laughter.

“That doesn’t surprise me at all.”

Unbothered by the allegations against him, Taehyung breathes Jungkook in and purrs, soft and low, and Jungkook feels all his nerves disappear.  

Series Masterlist

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie).

[corroded-hellfire]

Hello! I'm absolutely in love with your work and I'm always just so friggin' happy whenever a new one gets published.

If it's alright with you, I'd like to request an Eddie x Reader inspired by the song "Centerfold" by The J. Geils Band. The song's been stuck in my mind for days now and I just can't help hearing the song from Eddie's point of view.

Hope you're doing great!

I love this song so this was so fun to write! Thank you for your kind words and for requesting!

Warnings: smut, p in v, mention of unprotected sex, language, I think that’s it?

Words: 6.9k

Eddie had been on the road for months now. The roar of the crowd every night filled his veins with adrenaline and his heart with contentment. But once the buzz faded and the lights went off, Eddie would find himself in his bunk on the tour bus, trying to catch some much-needed sleep as the driver took them to their next tour stop. The gentle rock of the large bus back and forth on the road usually lulled Eddie to sleep eventually, but tonight, he seemed to feel every little bump and pothole on the interstate. 

“Holy shit.”

Gareth is always making a big deal out of the stupidest shit, so Eddie didn’t bother pulling open the small curtain to his bunk and looking up at the bed above him. He was honestly surprised that Gareth wasn’t asleep yet, because he was well known to be the one who passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow. 

“Dude.”

Still, Eddie doesn’t answer.

“Eddie? You awake?”

The lead guitarist rolls his eyes and pushes the short curtain open.

“What?”

Gareth peeks his head over the edge of the bunk, not meeting Eddie’s eyes. Uncomfortable is an odd look on Gareth, as he’s usually unfazed by anything and everything. That alone has Eddie intrigued.

“Dude, what?” Eddie asks again.

“Shit, I don’t know if I should tell you,” Gareth says.

“You shouted for me multiple times while I’m trying to sleep. You better damn well tell me.”

His friend’s head disappears back into the bunk and Eddie lets out a longsuffering sigh. There’s rustling coming from above him and instead of Gareth popping back into view like he expects, something falls down and smacks Eddie square in the face.

“What the fuck?” Eddie grumbles, glaring up at the higher bunk. There’s no response though, which has Eddie huffing again in anger before he looks down at what hit him. It’s a copy of XXXTRA, the popular adult magazine, that Eddie is no stranger to. Gareth’s never shared porn with him before, and if he was being honest, Eddie found it a little weird. Especially since he’d be up there in his bunk with it. As if his friend can read his mind, Gareth calls down.

“I just opened it, Jesus Christ. Turn to the centerfold.”

With a sigh, Eddie swipes the magazine from the floor and lays back in his bed. Making himself comfortable, he flips through the pages until he comes to the very middle of the magazine. When he does, Eddie’s heart seizes in his chest, and he feels his blood run cold. The black negligee is short and skimpy, the lace neckline – if it could be called that – dipped low between the breasts, keeping a small portion of the swell of her chest covered. Or it would be if the whole negligee wasn’t completely sheer, showing off her impressive natural breasts. It’s a sexy piece of lingerie on its own, but the woman wearing it is far sexier. She was also Eddie’s high school sweetheart. 

“Holy shit,” Eddie echoes Gareth’s words from earlier. 

“Right?” Gareth says from above him, and Eddie raises his leg to kick the bottom of his bandmate’s bunk. 

“Not another word,” Eddie snaps. His eyes scan over your body on the glossy print again, an odd mixture of confused and aroused. The fact that Gareth saw this – saw you like this – has Eddie gripping the edges of the magazine tighter in his hands. But then it occurs to him: everyone who bought this magazine would see you like this. See you in the provocative position you’re sitting in, leaning in towards the camera, black lace laying against your soft skin. At least Eddie knew from experience that your skin was soft. Not everyone who holds the magazine could say that. 

He drops the magazine down on his chest and rubs at his eyes with the heels of his hands. It’s been almost a decade since Eddie’s seen you, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think of you from time to time. Even when he’s laying alone in a hotel room, fist wrapped around his cock, remembering all the times and places you two fooled around back in high school. The breakup was mutual and heartbreaking, but unavoidable as you went off to college and Corroded Coffin set off to make their dreams come true. None of it changed the fact that there was a special place held in Eddie’s heart just for you.

Mrs. O’Donnell drones on and on, sounding like the teachers from Charlie Brown the more she speaks. Eddie does his best to listen – he really does, but it’s so hard when the words are all blending together into one cacophonous sound. It’s the crone’s own fault, really, when his mind drifts far from the subject of World War II and onto the dress you’re wearing today. A cute green floral sundress, long enough to keep Eddie from going all alpha male jealous, but still short enough to keep his eyes glued to the backs of your thighs as you walked. The cotton was so soft as he rubbed his hands over your waist and hips this morning, pulling your body against his just because he never wanted to let you go. All of your curves were accentuated perfectly, and the color brought out your eyes so much that Eddie was pretty sure this was his favorite outfit of yours ever. Well, favorite outfit that you could wear in public.

A tap against his knee catches Eddie’s attention and he notices your hand underneath his desk, a slip of paper between your fingers. He slips the note from your grip, squeezing your hand before he reluctantly lets go of it. Your stifled giggle brings a smile to his face as he unfolds your note.

What’re you thinking about? Your face is especially cute 

Eddie does a double take to make sure O’Donnell isn’t looking his way before grabbing his pencil and scribbling down a reply. He drops the note on your desk, poking you in the side to make you squirm before containing himself back in his own seat.

Funny you should ask! I was thinking about you and that sexy little dress. So if you see my fly straining over my crotch, you know why

Eddie watches your face go scarlet as you read the letter, quickly crumbling the paper up and shoving it in your backpack so no one else can see what it says. Mrs. O’Donnell was notorious for making people read notes they’ve passed out loud and you’d be damned if you were going to have to speak Eddie’s words out loud to the whole class. 

Lucky for you, the bell rings so there’s no time for your teacher to catch your note passing. Eddie takes your hand in his as you sling your backpack over your shoulder. 

“Your house?” Eddie asks as the two of you walk down the hallway towards the school exit. 

“Yeah. Unless you’re too eager and need to take me in the back of your van?” You shoot a smirk at your boyfriend, and he bites his lip to suppress a moan.

“Fuck, don’t tempt me.” He slings an arm over your shoulders and presses a kiss to the side of your head. 

The whole ride to your place, Eddie keeps his hand on your thigh, inching it higher every few minutes, and telling you all the things he wants to do to you once you get there. He does it partially because it turns him on, but mostly because he loves seeing you get all flushed and shy. The two of you may have been together for over three years now, but he could still turn you into a blushing, stuttering mess. 

As you try to unlock your front door, Eddie’s hands are moving up and down your body and he’s pressing kisses to the back of your neck. 

“Eddie!” You let out a squeal as he digs his fingers into the softness of your tummy. 

“Can’t help it,” Eddie mumbles into your hair. “You’re just so cute, angel.”

No sooner than you’ve stepped in the house does Eddie have you pinned up against the closed door. His lips are on yours and his hands are pushing your dress up your hips. The moan that leaves your lips is involuntary as your arms loop around his neck. 

Eddie’s large hand cups the back of your thigh and hoists your leg around his hip. His lips break from yours and he trails his mouth down to your jaw, teeth scraping against your skin. 

“M-My room,” you say.

“Too far,” Eddie speaks against your skin. “Need you here.”

“Against the front door?” you ask with a breathy laugh.

“Guess we could make the few steps to the couch.” 

At Eddie’s pat on your ass, you jump up and wrap your other leg around his hips. Hands braced on your ass and teeth nipping at your neck, Eddie takes you over to the couch on the other side of the room. You land on your back, legs tightening around him, so he falls down on top of you. 

You’re pushing Eddie’s leather jacket off his shoulders as he grinds his hips into yours, the friction over your thin cotton panties making your eyes roll back in your head. Eddie’s quick to strip himself of his shirt and his fingers tangle in the material of your dress as he struggles to get it over your head.

“Eddie!” You giggle as you help him shuck it off. “So impatient, baby.”

“Can’t help it,” Eddie says, mouthing at the lace cups of your bra. “You’re too perfect. Drive me crazy.”

Reaching behind you, you unclasp your bra and slip it down your arms, allowing Eddie to bite at the cup and throw it from your body like a dog letting go of a bone. His mouth comes right back to your breast, tongue lapping over your nipple before wrapping his lips around it, his hand coming up to massage your other breast. Your fingers tangle in your boyfriend’s hair and your hips buck up against his, making him moan around your nipple. The vibrations send a tingle up your spine and cause you to whimper.

“Eddie,” you whine. “Need you.”

With a pop, Eddie lets go of your nipple and presses kisses along the valley between your breasts. 

“Need me how, angel?” he asks.

“Inside me. Please.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” Eddie says, already shimmying his jeans down his hips. He’s already slipped the condom from his pocket and tossed it onto your tummy. You work on opening the foil packet as Eddie frees the both of you from your underwear. 

Eddie reaches down and runs his fingers through your folds, collecting your slick before moving back up to your clit. He rubs tight circles over the sensitive nub, making your hands stall over the condom. 

“Fuck,” you let out in a breathy moan, Eddie smirking in satisfaction as he presses sweet kisses up your shoulder and across your collarbones. 

“Such language, baby,” he teases. 

“You’re one to talk,” you say with a laugh. Reaching down and wrapping your hand around his cock shuts him up. Eddie squeezes his eyes closed as you work the condom down his length, making sure to touch him as much as possible as you do. He twitches in your hand as you give him one final squeeze before moving your hand away. “Excited, handsome?”

“For my favorite pussy? Hell yes.”

You can’t help but laugh at his words, hands running up his chest.

“Only pussy you’ve ever had, Eds.”

“I don’t need any other to know this is my favorite,” Eddie says between hot wet kisses against your neck. “You’re saying you’d need another dick to know mine is your favorite?” He takes a hold of himself in his hand, rubbing his aching tip through your soaked folds. 

“N-Never,” you moan. “Only dick I’ve ever had, only one I ever want.” 

“Good,” Eddie says as he starts to push inside of you. “I love being your one and only.” Your fingernails dig into Eddie’s shoulders as he thrusts more of himself into you. The way he stretches you out always feels perfect, every single time. “Only cock you’ve ever had.” He places a kiss to your lips. “Only boyfriend you’ve ever had.” Another kiss. “Only kiss you’ve ever had.” Another kiss. 

“You just love corrupting me, don’t you?” you ask in between heavy breaths. Eddie’s hips buck at your question, and you think you’ve got your answer. 

“Shit,” Eddie says as he buries himself in you fully. “Swear you get tighter every time.”

“Maybe you just get bigger,” you say with a playful smirk.

“Gonna give me a big head, baby.”

Eddie already knows he’s not going to be able to last terribly long, having been aching for you all day. It’s your fault, really, how much you turn him on just walking down the halls or tapping the eraser of your pencil against your perfectly glossed lips. 

He slips two fingers into your mouth and presses down on your tongue, causing you to moan at his forcefulness. His hips keep a steady pace as you swirl your tongue around his fingers, sucking on them just enough to make his hips stutter. Your mouth let's go with a wet smack and Eddie lowers his spit-coated fingers to your clit, working against your nub in the way he knew drove you absolutely wild. 

Lips parting and eyes closing in pleasure, you lose yourself in the pressure of Eddie’s fingers and the absolute fullness of his cock nestled inside of you. 

“Feel good, angel?” Eddie asks.

Unable to speak, you nod your head, nails digging in even deeper to the pale skin of Eddie’s shoulders. 

“Good,” Eddie says, adding a little extra pressure to your clit. “Want you to cum on my cock, baby. Fuck, you know how much I love that.”

It’s true – Eddie’s pretty sure he could cum just from the feeling of your walls spasming around him and absolutely soaking all the way down to his balls. 

“Close,” you whimper, forcing your eyes open to look at your boyfriend above you. He’s flushed, sweat forcing some of his hair to stick to his forehead, and tongue poking out of his pretty lips as he works himself in and out of you at a steady pace. The sight makes you smile, and what you don’t know is that Eddie’s admiring the view of you as well. He takes in how your forehead is creased from the pleasure you feel, tits bouncing every time he presses into you, and your hair splayed out around you like a halo, making you look like the angel you are. 

“That’s it, baby,” Eddie encourages, his hips speeding up. Your back arches in pleasure as his angle changes and he pounds into that perfect spongey spot inside of you. 

“There! Fuck, right there, Eddie.”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he says. 

Between Eddie’s cock ramming into that spot repeatedly and his fingers dancing over your clit deliciously, you feel yourself steadily reaching your climax. 

Eddie presses soft and sweet kisses up your neck and side of your face as you chant his name over and over again, the tenderness pushing you over the edge. Moaning out into the quiet house, your wave of pleasure crashes over you, sparks dancing in your vision. The clenching of your already tight walls around him has Eddie following you over the edge. His hips stutter once, twice before he’s releasing into the condom, fingers helping you through your own orgasm. Your boyfriend’s groans make the warm feeling in your tummy last even longer, thinking there could be nothing sexier in this world than the sounds Eddie makes. 

Once he’s spent, having spilled every bit of cum you’ve milked from him into the condom, Eddie drops his head into the crook of your neck and lets some of his body weight rest on you. Having him on top of you like this felt almost as wonderful as having him inside of you. You feel safe and loved with Eddie’s skin pressed against yours like this. His sweat melts with yours and both of you have matching smiles on your faces as you try to catch your breaths. 

“I love you,” Eddie says.

“I love you too,” you tell him. His smile grows when you brush some of his damp hair from his forehead, turning his head to press a kiss to your palm.

Reluctantly, Eddie pulls out of you, the pair of you hissing at the loss together. He rolls himself onto the floor and you giggle, turning your head to look down at your boyfriend. 

“You’re the cutest,” you say.

“That title is taken by you, angel.” Eddie throws a wink your way before slipping the condom off and tying off the end. He pushes himself up off the floor and presses a kiss to your lips before going to toss the used condom away. 

Stretching out on the couch, you let your muscles loosen for a moment before sitting up. Grabbing your panties from the floor, you slip back into them and scoop up your bra and dress.

“I’m gonna go change,” you call to Eddie in the kitchen before heading towards the stairs. 

Eddie comes back into the living room, wiping the remaining sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He hops back into his boxers and jeans, tossing his leather jacket over an armchair before he slips his Iron Maiden shirt back over his head. You come back into the room, an old pair of Eddie’s sweatpants hung low on your hips and your softest sweater keeping you warm. Eddie drops down onto the couch and you plop down next to him. When you turn your head to smile up at him, he feels his head go fuzzy and his stomach trembles like he’s swallowed a vibrator. 

“What?” you ask of the shy look on his face. 

“Nothing,” he says, looking into your eyes. “I’m just really in love with you. And you have gorgeous eyes.”

You let out a giggle as you feel yourself getting flustered. 

“You’re one to talk about gorgeous eyes,” you say. 

He grins and slides an arm around your shoulders, melting into your touch when the soft sweater meets the skin of his arm. You tuck your hands up in the long green sleeves of the sweater and lean into his side. 

“I love this sweater, too,” Eddie says. “You should wear it to school tomorrow.”

“Eddie, you would get detention before the end of homeroom.”

“Why?” he asks, brow furrowing.

“You wouldn’t keep your hands off of me,” you say with a laugh. “It seems to be a magical sweater that just draws your hands in.”

He gives an overly dramatic roll of his eyes and wraps both arms around you, hugging you and the sweater against his chest. 

“That’s nothing new, though. Mr. Martin is used to it by now,” Eddie says of your homeroom teacher. 

“I guess as long as your hands don’t slip under the sweater it will be okay.”

“Nah,” Eddie says with a shrug. “I’ll leave that for second period.”

Eddie can’t stop looking or thinking about your picture in the centerfold for days. Gareth knows better than to mention it, and if he told the other guys, they’re smart enough not to say anything either. Every song they play at every show reminds him of you in some way. His mind even makes leaps to connect you with songs that have nothing to do with love or heartbreak at all. You haven’t invaded his mind this consistently for nearly a decade. 

The show tonight in New York City is one of the largest crowds that Corroded Coffin has had in a while and Eddie is finding it harder to care than he usually would. He lives for big crowds, but his heart hasn’t been in the music for the past few days. The rest of the band could tell, but again, wouldn’t say anything to him about it.

Eddie knows that whatever is going on with him has to do with you, but he can’t put his finger on what exactly it is that’s bothering him. It’s not the fact that you’re in the centerfold; Eddie knows you’re a grown woman and can make your own decisions. Though he is curious what led you from shy book worm to the hottest centerfold he’s ever seen. He’s a big enough man to admit that he’s a little jealous that others get to see you like he once did, but that’s not what’s really getting to him. The more he tries to figure it out, the more the reason seems to evade him. 

After the sound check and before show time, Eddie walks into the green room to see Jeff lounging on the couch, his girlfriend perched on his lap.

“Hey, Kathy!” Eddie greets her with a smile. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.” 

“Neither did Jeff,” she says with a giggle.

“She surprised me,” Jeff explains, a giddy smile on his face as he squeezes his girlfriend in his arms. 

Eddie takes a seat at the small table in the room, a bowl of pretzels waiting there. His thick fingers pull a few out and as he’s popping them in his mouth, he notices Jeff and Kathy with their heads together, whispering and laughing. An odd feeling rolls through Eddie’s stomach and that’s when it finally hits him. He misses you. Sure, he’s had girlfriends since you’d been together, and he’s even fallen in love since then too. And maybe when he’d been with those girls he’d thought it felt different than when he was with you, but he’d just assumed that was because you were his first love. Didn’t people say that’s something that always stays with you? But maybe it was something more than that. 

“You ready?”

Gareth’s voice breaks Eddie from his thoughts, his head snapping to look at his bandmate standing in the doorway. Gareth is looking between Eddie and Jeff, raising his eyebrows at them like they forgot they had a show to put on. Jeff gives Kathy one last kiss before he and Eddie follow their friend out, headed towards the stage.

It’s a great show. Something always felt different playing in New York City and tonight was no exception. The crowd seemed louder; the music seemed to pump through Eddie’s veins with every chord. He flung his pick into the audience after the set, and the screaming girl who caught it made him laugh. Nothing like New York. 

“Dude,” Grant says as Eddie’s inhaling a bottle of water back in the green room. He just raises his eyebrows at his friend while he continues chugging. “Party a few blocks over. It sounds pretty fucking amazing.”

I really don’t want to party, Eddie thinks. What the fuck, dude? He wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand. Since when do you not want to go to an after party? Get it the fuck together.

“Uh, sure,” Eddie says. “Just let me get changed.” 

The party is in some penthouse that has way too many bodies and not nearly enough ventilation in it. Eddie walks in with his friends and Kathy, eyes scanning the place to see where he can grab a drink. There’s a bar over in the corner with a few bartenders on duty. Eddie tries to imagine any of the parties he went to in high school having an actual bartender. 

He makes his way over and orders a Whiskey Highball, Gareth right behind him ordering a Jack and Coke. Once they’ve got their drinks, Gareth spots a girl that he's “just got to talk to” and leaves Eddie standing there by himself. Letting out a sigh, Eddie makes his way into the room, eyes taking in the different people drinking, talking, making out, laughing, all under the shitty dim lighting coming from somewhere; Eddie couldn’t even figure out where from. 

A girl approaches him, and he flips the switch to turn on his charm. Eddie takes in her long legs, her dark skin, and mini dress she’s wearing that looks completely made up of sequins. It’s a lot, but the dim lighting is keeping the glare from hitting him in the eyes. 

“You look familiar,” the girl says.

Eddie shrugs. “Maybe you’ve seen my band play.”

“Hmm, so drummer?” she asks. 

“Guitarist.” Eddie acts like he’s offended, placing his hand on his chest. “You think these talented fingers are only used for holding drumsticks?” 

She giggles and Eddie can’t help but notice how pretty her smile is. She’s a pretty girl in general, but her smile is her best feature. 

“I’m Eddie.” 

She introduces herself and his stomach drops when she introduces herself with the same first name that you have. 

“T-That’s a nice name,” Eddie says, game completely thrown off at this point. 

“Thanks!” She continues to talk but Eddie doesn’t hear a word she’s saying. All he’s thinking about is how to get out of this conversation because there’s no way he can deal with spending time with someone who has the same name as you. He doesn’t know why, he just knows he can’t do it. 

When she finishes speaking, Eddie sends her an apologetic look.

“I’m so sorry, but I actually just saw someone that I need to talk to.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” she says with her pretty smile. “Maybe I’ll see you in a little while?”

“Sure,” Eddie says. No, Eddie thinks. 

He tries to find one of his friends to talk to, just in case she was watching, Eddie didn’t want her to think he was trying to ditch her. Even though he kind of was. But none of his band mates are in sight so Eddie settles for claiming an empty seat he’s spotted on a purple couch near the large windows exposing the New York Skyline, all lit up in the darkness. 

There’s a woman sitting next to Eddie, and she turns to give him a smile. Her hair is even curlier than his is and he admits he finds that impressive. 

“Hi,” she says, leaning into his space. Eddie’s never minded a woman coming into his personal space, though.

“Hey,” Eddie says. He leans against the back of the couch and crosses one leg over the other, the hand not holding his glass resting on his booted ankle. 

“What brings you to the party?” the woman asks, batting her dark eyelashes over her bright hazel eyes. 

“My friends, honestly. We finished our show and they said we had to come.”

“Show? Are you on Broadway?”

Eddie laughs at this because the mental image of him on a stage dressed like a singing cat springs to mind.

“Nah, I’m in a band. We just played a show a few blocks over,” he says. 

“Are you the lead singer?” she asks with a knowing smile.

“And lead guitarist,” Eddie says, holding his drink up as if he’s going to make a toast. She laughs and Eddie can’t help himself from asking. “I’m sorry, but, what’s your name?”

“Johnna.”

Eddie breathes a sigh of relief.

“I’m Eddie.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Eddie.”

They start talking about being in the city, as she’s only visiting as well for an art exhibit. Eddie’s finished his drink and is moving to set it on the table in front of the couch when movement through the crowd of people catches his eye. He looks up and is stunned to his seat. His jaw drops open and he blinks his eyes a few times to make sure his mind isn’t playing tricks on him. Between two groups of people talking, standing about twenty feet away, is his angel. Eddie isn’t sure how long he’s staring before Johnna waves her hand in front of his face.

“Hello? Earth to Eddie?”

He’s snapped out of his trance and looks to Johnna hesitantly, not wanting to take his eyes off of you for even a moment. 

“Yeah, sorry,” Eddie says. He bites his lip and glances back to make sure you’re still there; that he didn’t dream you up. “Um, I'm really sorry but I see someone over there I haven’t seen in almost ten years. I’ve got to go say hi.”

Johnna looks disappointed, but she nods her head. He gives her a grateful smile before he pushes himself off the purple couch and through the tightening crowd. You’ve moved from where you previously were but it’s not hard to find you in the crowd, his eyes instinctually brought to the back of your head, that sight of familiar beautiful hair. The silky emerald dress you’re wearing sways with every step you take and his eyes are drawn to the backs of your thighs. As perfect as he remembers.

Too many people keep darting in his pathway to you, making him lose his patience a little more each time. Fuck it, he decides. He’s shooting his shot. He cups his hands around his mouth and shouts your name. 

You freeze on the spot, as if your heels had stepped in crazy glue. That voice. That voice calling your name. You’d know it anywhere, even in a packed party. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm your racing heart, you turn around and your heart not only disobeys you by continuing to race, but it also feels like it’s going to leap out of your chest and fly across the room to the one person it’s always belonged to. 

“Eddie.” His name on your lips sparks all the memories flooding back. All the makeout sessions in the back of his van, all the times you sat at the closest table to the stage when the guys had gigs at The Hideout. The way he always seemed to know when you were having a bad day and would show up to final period with flowers that he somehow managed to get. He’d never spilled his secrets on how he got them, no matter how many times you’d asked. 

Eddie finally makes his way to you, and you can’t help but just stare at his wide brown eyes and frizzy curls when he stands before you. He looks older, more mature, but he’s still the same beautiful boy you shared your first everything with. The same way he’s shoving his hands into his pockets because he’s nervous. Same smile and the same look from underneath his eyelashes. You feel like you’re going to melt. Was it always this hot in here?

“You’re here,” you say. Duh, obviously, you think to yourself. 

“And you’re here.” 

“H-How are you?” you ask. Okay, it’s definitely getting hotter in the room. 

“I’m good,” Eddie says with a smile. That smile was always your undoing and it was proving to have the same effect all these years later. “How are you?”

“Good,” you say, finding yourself getting lost in his eyes. Nothing has changed since you were 15, has it? 

The music somehow gets turned up even higher and it has you wincing.

“Do you want to go outside?” Eddie offers, gesturing towards the door. You nod and head in that direction, Eddie’s hand coming to the small of your back as if no time has passed at all. 

Your hearing is still muffled as you two stumble out onto the sidewalk in front of the building. The city’s streets were never silent, but this was far preferable to the deafening bass upstairs. 

“So, what are you doing here?” you ask, wrapping your arms around yourself in the brisk night air. Eddie doesn’t miss a thing and instantly shrugs out of his leather jacket, putting it over your shoulders. It shouldn’t make you feel as tingly as it does, but you can’t help but smile as you’re enveloped by its warmth and its familiar smell of Eddie. You hold it tighter against your body.

“We, uh, just played a show a few blocks over,” Eddie says, hiking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the venue.

“Really?” you ask, eyes wide. “If I had known I would’ve been front row. Still know all the lyrics.” You give him a proud smirk.

“Even the new ones?” he challenges, raising his eyebrows playfully. 

“Of course,” you say. “You think I don’t buy Corroded Coffin albums the day they drop? I’m no fake fan.”

Eddie laughs and reaches up to scratch the back of his head. The sound goes straight to your heart, his laughter making it soar. 

“I, uh, guess I should tell you I’ve seen your latest work, too.”

“Oh! Really?” The only difference Eddie sees between you then and now is the fact that you’re not blushing right now. High school you would’ve looked like a tomato if Eddie even suggested taking a sexy Polaroid of you. Didn’t stop you from saying yes eventually, though. 

“To be totally honest,” Eddie starts with a nervous chuckle. “Gareth saw it first and gave it to me. Or maybe I confiscated it.”

“Thank you for that,” you answer with a nervous giggle of your own. “The thought of Gareth seeing that feels weird. Nothing you haven’t seen before, though.”

“I don’t know,” Eddie says with a shrug. “I don’t think you had that negligee when we were dating.”

His cheeky grin makes you giggle again, and you take a step towards him. 

“Do you think it’s weird?” You want his honest answer. Obviously, you had no problem with it, seeing as you’d done it, but you knew there would be people who didn’t approve. 

“Weird? No, not at all. Was I surprised? Hell yes. I mean, my angel is the centerfold.”

A smile lights up your face and you take another step closer to him. 

“I haven’t been called that since you.”

“What, angel?”

“Yeah. But I’m glad. Anyone else calling me that would’ve felt weird. That’s your name for me.”

“And I’ve never called anyone else it,” Eddie says, making you emotional in a way you didn’t expect. “I’m curious, though,” Eddie starts, too nervous to meet your eyes in case you take his question the wrong way. “How’d you get into…that?”

“Oh, well in my senior year of college I dated a photography student. He used me for a project – clothes on – and he got an A. Then there was a photography competition he wanted to enter, and since I brought him luck last time, he asked if I’d do it again. This one was less clothing, but still decent. He won that contest and his pictures appeared in a magazine. The people from that magazine then called and wanted me, not my boyfriend, to work for them.”

“And how’d that go?” Eddie asks with a chuckle.

You roll your eyes. “He was such a baby about it. It’s not like I asked them. He was so petty and jealous that he broke up with me. I didn’t really care though, because I felt like I’d finally seen his true colors. Anyway, the magazine had me model for a couple of issues. Mostly clothes or promo pictures for a restaurant or club or something. And so, one of the photographers at this magazine was also working for XXXTRA and knew they were looking for someone new for their centerfold. So, he showed them my picture and they asked me to do it.”

“Were you scared?” Eddie asks. His hand is fighting the urge to reach out and grab yours. 

“Yeah,” you admit with a laugh. “I didn’t want to make a career out of this, it was just an easy job that kind of fell in my lap. The centerfold would’ve been the most I’d made modeling up to that point, so I figured what the hell? I’ve always been a good, quiet girl so I thought it’d be kind of funny to think of people looking at that picture of me and imagining I’m some wild, risk-taking woman.”

“So, what’re you doing now?” Eddie asks and you shrug.

“Not sure. I got my degree in English, so I’ve been thinking of going into writing.”

“Oh, you totally should,” Eddie says, getting excited at the idea. “You always wrote the best stories in Mrs. Thompson’s class.” 

Eddie’s compliment has your face warming and it’s like the final puzzle piece has clicked into place. Eddie looks at you and sees his girl, completely and wholly. 

“You never told me why you’re in New York,” Eddie says.

“Oh, yeah! One of my best friends from college had her opening night on Broadway tonight. We came here after the opening night party.”

“That’s pretty cool. Was the show good?”

“It really was! I hope it’s not one of those ones that just doesn't get the recognition it deserves.”

“What’s it called?” Eddie asks.

“Rent.”

“Huh. Weird name.”

“Says the guy who came up with the name Corroded Coffin.” Your smirk makes Eddie want to pull you into his arms and kiss all over your face. 

“How long are you in town?” you ask Eddie.

“Bus leaves tomorrow afternoon. Gotta head to Philly next. What about you?”

“Flying home tomorrow, too,” you say.

“Where’s home now?”

“Hawkins.” You say the town’s name with a smile, and it makes Eddie think back fondly on the town as well. 

“Home sweet home,” Eddie says. 

“Listen, um…” You bite your lip, nervous in front of Eddie for the first time since…well, probably your first time. “I don’t know if you have a girlfriend or something, but if you don’t, do you maybe want to get breakfast together in the morning? Catch up?”

“No girlfriend,” Eddie says, taking a step to close the ever-shrinking gap between the two of you. “And I would love to have breakfast with you. Hell, I’d sit on the sidewalk and eat a soft pretzel from that cart down there just to spend time with you.”

His favorite blush in the world comes to your cheeks and Eddie wonders how he ever lived without that in his life. 

“Well, my rental car is right there,” you say, nodding your head towards a black Toyota. “That’s probably more comfortable than the sidewalk.”

“You rented a car in New York City?” Eddie asks with a laugh.

“I rented that car from Boston and drove it here, thank you very much.”

“Why were you – oh shit, were you visiting Nancy and Steve? Meet the new baby?”

“I sure did,” you say with a bright grin. “Little Elliot already has his daddy’s hair.” 

“Poor kid,” Eddie teases. You chuckle and reach out to grab his hand with yours. He laces his fingers with yours and it just feels right. Natural. Like it’s only been hours since you’d held one another's hands and not years. 

“Come on,” you say and tug Eddie in the direction of your car. Once you’re both inside, the question that’s been begging to be asked finally slips out.

“Do you, uh, want to come back to my hotel room?” 

Eddie takes in your nervous expression, like you’re afraid he’ll say no. He takes in your green dress, your gorgeous eyes, and everything he’s been missing. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Unless you’re too eager and need to take me in the back of your car?”

The memory of you saying something very similar to him in high school makes you laugh as you turn the key to start the ignition. 

“Don’t tempt me,” you answer. 

The next morning you both decide to forgo breakfast. Another round of sex and cuddling takes precedence over food. And sleep, seeing as you both got less than three hours of sleep the whole night. Much of it was spent talking, catching up on what’s happened in the years since you’ve been together. Admissions of you both thinking of each other often over the years and heartfelt confessions that both of you want this to be something more than just a one-night reunion. You can write from the road if you want, Eddie tells you. He even promises to buy you the fanciest typewriter to keep on the tour bus. It sounds perfect. Being with Eddie everyday sounds like a dream come true. 

The sun is peeking in through the curtain of the hotel room, rays casting over the white blankets you and Eddie are curled up underneath. Heads facing each other on the same pillow, Eddie’s hand cups the side of your face and strokes his thumb over your cheekbone. You two had celebrated all your firsts together. First kiss, first relationship, first time having sex, first heartbreak. Even just last night you’d had another first together when you’d forgone the condom because you wanted to feel one another as close as possible. It was the first time either of you had that complete skin to skin contact during sex. 

Eddie wants all the firsts and onlys with you. He leans in and presses a kiss to your lips. Only fiancé. Another kiss. Only husband. Another kiss. Only father of your children. Another kiss. Only love of your life. 

[dragonshoardofworks]

DP x DCMK (x DC)

Where Danny and Shinichi meet at the Hawaii where's a Ghost Convention (pre-portal and Conan, when they're both around 11–12 years old) since both sets of parents are invested in the topic. (The Fentons because they're the Fentons and Yusaku because he's researching for one of his books).

They become friends and keep contacts through messages, sharing school shenanigans, crushes, cases and family mishaps.

The One Thing that Danny doesn't share, though, is his halfa status.

First, because Shinichi doesn't believe in the supernatural (according to him, magic is just unexplained science) and second, because his change is far from any kind of "normalcy" and Shinichi had categorically stated that he doesn't want anything to do with superheroes, he's just a "normal" detective and they (the Justice League) save the world.

Though, it's not unusual that, if something weird happens in a case, Shinichi asks Danny's opinion and intel since the Fenton's library has "weird"/obscure material. (If the answer gets him too close to superhero-stuff, Shinichi passes the ball to the JL, more specifically to Red Robin, but that's something for a following reblog of this thread.)

So when Shinichi becomes Conan and settles in Ran's home, he contacts our favorite boi.

(A bit late to the @crossoverdanuary party... (^～^;)ゞ Anyway, long post in chat-style, plus an extra, so I decided to use the read more function because it was getting out of hand... (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) )

Shinichi: Hey Danny, do you know anything that should be killing you, but instead it shrinks you? Danny: Shrink as in size or age? S: Age D: Hold on, gotta check some books to be sure, but usually anything age-related is dark shit. What's for? Fun or case? S: ...It's for a case D: Well, that didn't sound ominous at all, then gotta go *faster* *few minutes later* D: Okay, the closest thing (still in the Mortal Realm) to what you asked is this jewel most commonly known as "Pandora" (if she knew, she would definitely lose her shit) D: it's a gem hidden inside another gem that glows red under the moonlight D: "if bathed in the light of the Volley Comet, it would shed tears capable of granting eternal life" S: This doesn't sound anything like what I asked you (⁠눈⁠‸⁠눈⁠) D: Cut the sass beanpole and let me continue D: since the legend exist and it's documented, it should be reasonable to presume that someone managed to attain it, right? S: ...right *squinty eyes* D: So if some scientist tried to reproduce the same results in the *scientific way* instead of the magical one, they could have either the original "Tears" or the one who consumed them and run test and experiment on them D: whatever the case, there would be either some inferior or failed products that instead of making you immortal, *de-ages* you, which is the next best thing (i.e. you would live longer) D: but since they were "failures" compared to the immortality elixir, they could definitely become poisons. D: So! Since you were so ominous, was it really for a case or did our dear Professor Agasa dabble in alchemy? 👀 (read) D: Beanpole, I know you read my explanation and since this is really dark shit you *have* to at least give me context D: because among the warnings that the grimoire gave me, there's the thing that you become somewhat cursed S: ...Or you're cursed or you're not, there's no "somewhat" D: He speaks! 🙌 D: Give me *the deets* *long pause* D: *Shinichi Kudo* ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ S: Okay, fine! I can feel your disappointed stare all the way to Japan, stop! >Д&lt; D: Then explain S: Okay S: so you know how I can't leave things alone when they have suspicious all printed on them? D: Your worst defect, yes, but continue D: ...wait D: Shinichi no D: HOW OLD ARE YOU NOW?? S: Still 17, thank you very much D: I mean physically, you little shit, don't dodge the question! S: ... S: ...we think 7 D: What in the Infinite Realms everloving fuck, Shinichi D: Okay, you know what? D: I'm coming to Japan and you can't stop me, you *midget*, I know what you're already going to say D: it's dangerous, yada yada D: nothing I've already seen and fought S: What do you mean?! D: Since you're *such a good detective*, deduce it yourself D: give me your coordinates in the meantime and don't you dare move from that spot S: If you send me Superman or anyone of his creek, I swear to Kami, Danny D: Please, Superman could only desire to be anything like me, now *coordinates* ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ *coordinates sent* D: good boy D: now get ready in 3 S: 3 what? D: 2 D: 1

🕵️👻

A full body shiver run over Shinichi as soon as the "1" appeared on the screen, so he looked up from his phone, searching for where the cold draft could have come from. However, the agency toilet window was closed and the closed door had a good insulation, last time he had checked.

So what...!

"Boo."

Shinichi shrieked with all the high pitch of an elementary schooler, as he whirled around to look at what, or better, who had whispered by his ear.

A white-haired green-eyed floating teenager with a black hazmat suit with white accents grinned almost maniacally at him, showing their fangs predatorily.

Anatomically they looked male and despite the unhinged expression, the body language didn't project "danger". If anything, it was loose and casual as if he (until otherwise stated) belonged here.

The unearthly glow suggested either some substance coating him that gave him that illusion, or there was magic afoot.

Irritation surged inside Shinichi: Danny knew his rules! No direct superhero meeting, only exchange of intel!

"Who are you and why did Fenton send you?" Shinichi gritted, crossing his arms to appear less like a 7 years old.

"You disappoint me, little detective, I thought you would have figured it out at first glance!" The supposed hero pouted, crossing legs and arms midair and staring back at Shinichi. "I guess that your fame had been an exaggeration, after all. Some East Highschool Detective you are!"

The teasing little smirk incensed Shinichi more than alarming him (the other knew his secret!), but the last thought made him pause.

Danny wouldn't betray him like this by informing whatever "superhero" of this situation just to help him without his consent. Their boundaries had been awesome like that and had been respected so far, despite the many trials both had faced.

So who was this person really?

Shinichi's mind focused back into deducing the teen before him, and the more looked, the more disbelief made way in his heart. (...He had said he would be coming to Japan, but not in that instant!)

"No way, Danny?"

"Fucking finally, midget! What took you so long?" Danny huffed, untangling then touching down on his feet and looking him over. "It even gave me time to take a look at your situation!"

"Hey! Your voice is different, so I could deduce it only because "if you exclude the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the Truth"! Since you would never spill my secrets to anyone, this must have been you!" Shinichi gestured to his friend, who flushed green when he registered the meaning of the words.

"Wow," he breathed, sounding pleased, as he scratched his nape, "you would believe that a ghost of me is still me instead of me betraying you, wow!"

"Wait, ghost? I thought you just become a superhero, not that you died!" Despite his insistence on not believing the supernatural, Shinichi had read the Fentons' papers on ghosts (the most recent ones, AKA the "no more biased version" as Danny had called them). And, while he hadn't told his friend this, the scientific breakdown of what makes a ghost what they are, had made Shinichi believe in the existence of ectoplasmic beings.

But to discover that one of his best friends had died, he hadn't known or could have done anything, plus Danny hadn't felt safe enough to tell him until it had become unavoidable, made Shinichi clutch his heart in agony and despair.

Probably sensing the shift and interpreting the action for what that was, Danny's face shifted into regret, as he knelt down before the shrunk detective and a ring of light lit up at his waist, washing over him and leaving a hoodie-and-jeans-clad raven-haired and blue-eyed teenager.

Slowly, as if not to spook a frozen Shinichi, Danny laid a hand on his shoulder, while the other took the free little hand to his NASA hoodies chest and splayed it there, allowing him to feel his heartbeat. As if he had known that only words wouldn't have been enough to convince the detective.

Slowly but surely, feeling Danny's sluggish but steady heartbeat, made Shinichi unclench, then lean against his friend's chest, head tucked under his chin.

Carefully, Danny wrapped his friend in a hug, knowing well that, while physical affection was welcome from him, Japanese social conventions and the Kudo's upbringing had left Shinichi a little adverse to prolonged contact.

As the apparent 7-years-old melted into the embrace and clutched Danny as well, followed by a suspicious wet sensation on his chest, the halfa realized that this was bad.

Shinichi had never sought comfort like that, according to professor Agasa (who Danny did keep in contact with, since he was more a parent than the Kudos), so to do this now...

"It's okay, Shinichi, I'll explain better what happened to me, but it's not your fault." Shinichi shuddered at these words and buried deeper in the embrace, making guilt shoot through Danny. He had caused this breakdown. The least he could do was to help him through it and some.

"And we're gonna find a way to solve what happened to you, I promise."