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sxcret-garden · 8 months ago

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Haechan ღ Painted with You [M]

ღ NCT Dream Haechan x fem!reader ღ feat.: short mentions of Renjun & Jeno ღ words: ~15k ღ genre: college AU, fwb to lovers, exes to lovers, fluff, slice of life, slow burn, pining, reader is a little dense, angst, humor, smut (switch!Haechan (but sub-leaning), oral (both receiving), hair pulling (idol receiving), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, some begging, fingering, handjob, edging, orgasm denial (idol receiving), dry humping) ღ warnings: alcohol consumption, depiction of anxiety and reader feeling burnt out, mentions of unhealthy coping mechanisms

Desc.: You and Donghyuck were a couple back in high school, each having your own reasons for dating the other, but ultimately what you seeked out in each other was a distraction. Now that you meet again five years later, you both come to realize that the connection between you is still there, and eventually it’s crystal clear that the people you’ve become won’t be as easily separated as back then.

Author's note: aaaa I've had this in my drafts for sooo long avoiding to proofread it cause I wasn't happy with this at all... so now I finally came back to it to edit a bit and I think in the end it turned out quite okay^^ I hope you guys like it 🫶

There’s a hint of victory in the smile he gives you when you sit down next to him. Like he knew it would come to this - that you’d get bored of exchanging mundanities with the others and eventually find yourself drawn to him as your only escape. And it’s not like you didn’t know it too, it was clear from the moment you greeted each other with a hug that lasted shorter than it should have, and at the same time felt more familiar than you wanted it to. Yet his stance is inviting as he turns his whole body towards you in his seat, and the curiousity in his eyes is apparent.

“Long time no see,” he says, and it comes out softer than you would’ve expected it to. And he probably had the same thought, because he’s clearing his throat now, talking more firmly as he continues, “What have you been up to?” The last time you’ve seen each other was at your high school graduation ceremony, and since then it’s been almost five years. Which, as your former class president Renjun had decided, was about enough time to gather for a reunion.

“Well, you know. This and that,” you try to avoid an answer, but of course he wouldn’t let you off the hook so easily. He knows you too well for that.

“Come on,” he snorts. “You can tell me. My time wasn’t spent in a purely productive manner either.”

“You probably spent about 3 years total on just playing video games…” you say with a grin playing on your lips, and you make him huff in disbelief, before his expression as well returns to a somewhat mischievous smile.

“Now that was just tactless,” he says, straightening his back now. “I quit uni to go to work, and then started again with a different major. So now I’m a freshman!” He gives you a peace sign with his hand, sounding a lot prouder about the fact than he should’ve been.

“Feeling like 19 again?” you joke.

“Yes! Everyone automatically assumes I’m their age,” he explains. “But then I tell them I’m older, so I can make them work for me!” An exaggeratedly mischievous laugh follows, and you can only shake your head at his shenanigans.

“You haven’t changed at all,” you say, turning away and facing the bartender working just a few seats away. Originally you were all going out for dinner and nothing more, but when some girls suggested paying a nearby bar a visit, nobody could refuse in the face of getting some booze into their veins. Maybe you aren’t the only one who’s getting fucked over by life.

“One margarita,” you raise your hand and order, then you add, directed at Donghyuck, “Anything for you?”

“Just soju.” And so after placing both your orders, he adds, “Still can’t drink the adult drinks?”

“Excuse you, it has alcohol in it, so it is an adult drink. But if you’re asking if I still hate bitter stuff - yes I do.”

“I see… anyway, I’m not letting you get away without properly answering my question.”

“Too bad,” you respond. “Well…” And then you hesitate. You remember what it was like between the two of you in high school. When you were dating, each for your own reasons and certainly not because you had feelings for each other. But he still felt like a friend you could entrust your deepest feelings with - you knew each other like the back of your own hand. And yet, you find yourself hesitating in the face of five years passed by without a word from the other. It wasn’t like you had a fight or broke up on bad terms. It’s just that you both agreed it would be better not to see each other again, for reasons that seemed smart at the time. But now that you’re looking at the person he’s become and how much he seems to have grown up, you’re not sure anymore what those reasons even were.

“That bad?” Donghyuck interrupts your train of thought as he raises an eyebrow at you, and when you shake your head a short laugh escapes him.

“No, just… I’m also still in university,” you say. “I had to take a year off, so I’m trying to finish everything now. It’s not going great though.”

“Oh…” he looks away, directing his gaze at his hands that he’s hiding in the sleeves of his knitted sweater. “Are you managing though?” And that’s when you suddenly feel the past and the present connect - the way he immediately becomes serious when the situation calls for it, just like he has always done, makes you feel safe to keep speaking, and to keep your heart open, just for a bit.

“It’s… difficult,” you admit. The bartender sets down your ordered drinks, causing another pause, and you acknowledge it with a nod. “I’m trying not to do too much, but you know what’s it like living here.”

“Yeah,” he says. “That fucked you over before, didn’t it?”

“Yeah.” You fall silent after that, but not for long. Your conversation partner is Donghyuck after all, he wouldn’t let an awkward silence get too long.

“I have changed… by the way.” You raise your eyebrows at him as he speaks those words, letting the sip of your cocktail slowly trickle down your throat.

“Have you?” you ask. “Well, I mean… you’ve grown up.”

“Oh?” Suddenly seeing him straightening his back as he’s overjoyed, you can’t but giggle at the way his face is graced with a beaming smile now, but he glosses it over with a cough and a sip of his soju.

“But you sure are still the same guy,” you add, a nostalgic smile on your lips.

“I guess,” he agrees, his features softening. Another pause falls upon you as you give your cocktail another taste, and this time it’s you who breaks the silence. Continuously chatting, you’re starting to feel a little tipsy from the sweet beverage after a while.

“I heard you got a girlfriend?” Donghyuck huffs, a wide smile meant to hide a bitter feeling appearing on his face.

“Yeah…”

“What about her?” you pry, sensing something off.

“Dumped me,” he simply says, then pointing across the room and at Jeno, one of your former classmates. “For that guy.”

“Ouch.”

“It’s whatever,” he shrugs it off, pouring himself another glass and offering the shot to you instead. “You sure you don’t want any?”

“I’d rather have my own drink, thanks.”

“Alright. Then cheers.” He downs the shot, grimacing at the taste, and when he sets the glass back down, he adds, “I don’t get why she went for him anyway. I bet it’s cause of all that muscle he got.” You can’t help but chuckle at his words, and you hit his upper arm playfully.

“You should hit the gym too and then see if you can get her back.”

“Very funny,” he replies dryly. “I’d rather die.”

“Understandable…” you reply, taking another sip of your drink as well. “So… you’re probably glad I finally came to you.” Donghyuck shoots you a questioning look and you explain yourself. “For a distraction. Like in the old days, you know?”

“Ahh…” He merely lets out a sound, before staring at his empty shot glass.

“You’re not doing that anymore?” you assume.

“I guess.”

“Yeah… me too,” you say. “Or like… I stopped using people for it.”

You were dating back then, that’s true, but you wouldn’t go as far as to call yourselves high school sweethearts. You were both going through some stuff - for him it was a breakup with his first love, for you it was just life itself. When you were both at your lowest you started talking properly, and it soon became clear that you both wanted nothing more than to escape. And so you formed an alliance - as you used to call it, to everyone else you simply said that you were a couple now. You did behave like a couple, but just for the rush. The first time you held his hand you felt nothing, but when you made out secretly in the backyard of your school instead of attending class, that’s when you were overwhelmed with excitement. It was a stupid idea, you know that now too, and it only worked for so long. You spent the summer of your junior year together, meeting up almost every day and talking, and eventually distracting yourselves by making out secretly in your or his room. And then your final year came, and as you started seeing yourselves forced to take life a bit more seriously, you gradually met up less, until you both agreed that breaking up would be the best decision, so that you could focus on your studies and try to get into a good university. At least for your part, you still have mixed feelings when you remember that day. Because you know you made the adult decision, but at the same time you always end up thinking back to what fooling around with him felt like when you have a bad day now, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss it at least a bit. But you found other distractions - obsessing over tv series, finding just the perfect kind of music to drown out your feelings, and sometimes, whenever you could find a good excuse to drink with friends, alcohol. Though you’re being careful with the latter, just as you are now. One drink is usually enough to help you relax a bit and not pay all the things stressing you out so much thought.

“So when are we gonna start writing your redemption arc?” you ask nonchalantly, and he raises an eyebrow at you. “Your ex.”

“Stop that, for real,” he says, and the way he remains serious tells you your joke wasn’t well received.

“Sorry,” you utter.

“It’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine, but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” He’s playing with the glass in his hands, thumb rubbing along its edge as he keeps staring at it, and you take the last few sips of your drink, before you too start spinning the cocktail glass around between your fingers.

“Actually…” Donghyuck speaks up, now throwing you an entirely different look. “How about we get out of here. Maybe we could both use a distraction after all.”

“But-”

“Just for today.” You stare at him blankly, blinking once, twice, then a third time. This sounds like a bad idea, but at the same time you know you’re probably not gonna see each other for the next five years, just like it was for the past five. So what would be so bad about taking his offer now?

“Alright,” you say eventually, having made up your mind. “My place? It’s nearby.” His lips are parted slightly as he watches you jump out of your seat and put on your jacket. As the air around you changes, so does the look in his eyes, and a moment later he gets up too, his arm wrapped loosely around your waist while he holds the door open for you as he walks you out of the place.

“You really have changed,” you comment as you’re sneaking out, so none of the others would notice, and you giggle at your unnecessary secrecy once you’re past the entrance to the building.

“I can be a gentleman too!” he insists. “Of course a high school boy wouldn’t think of that.” You catch the pout that forms on his lips as he adds the last part, and you inevitably laugh, pointing at his face.

“But you’re also really still the same.”

You decide on going to your place, as it’s nearby, and you take a taxi there. Though you know this is only going to be a one time thing, neither of you seems to be in a rush. You take the elevator to the sixth floor, grinning at each other in silence the entire ride - maybe because this reminds the both of you a bit too much of the way you used to sneak off together all the time back in school. But once you arrive at your apartment, the atmosphere between you somehow changes, and as you’re walking over to your little kitchen to offer him a drink, he stops you, wrapping his arm around your waist. His touch is firm now, and he comes to a halt when he’s standing right in front of you, closer than a friend would, but leaving more distance between you than a lover would, and keeping his voice lowered, he asks,

“So… are we going to go right to the distraction part? Or do we need to pretend that we still need to warm up to each other first?” You find him staring at your lips, then returning his gaze to your eyes as he waits patiently for your response. And you don’t manage to come up with anything smart to say to him, so you simply take a step forward, wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders, and you kiss him. His lips feel soft, just like you remember them, melting against yours perfectly. Yet there’s a firmness to his kiss that feels new to you. He used to always kiss you with eagerness, too much of it at times, impatient to feel more of you and for you to take control. It was no secret between you two that he actually quite enjoyed being put into his place by you, and now that there’s no such intentions apparent behind the way he moves his lips against yours, you find yourself having your breath taken away by the time you part.

“You really did grow up well…” you mutter, barely an inch apart. “Did your ex teach you to kiss like that?”

“Watch your mouth, Y/N,” he mutters darkly, another side of him that’s not exactly new to you, but one that you haven’t seen a lot in the past. And then he simply brushes his lips against yours again, softly and with care, quite in contrast to his sharp words. “I don’t wanna ruin this with thoughts about people I don’t know anymore.”

“Right…” you whisper, and before you can add a mumbled apology, he presses his lips to yours again. In between short kisses that inevitably leave you longing for more, he steers you closer to the wall behind you, until he has you trapped against it. Your shoulders meet the cold surface gently, and as you’re slowly getting to know this different side of him, you feel yourself being swept off your feet like he never knew how to.

One of his hands resting on your waist, his fingertips creep towards your hip as you’re sharing an open mouthed kiss. A moan escapes you when he presses you up against the wall closer, and as he slowly parts from you, you can see the playful grin showing on his face now.

“You changed too,” he comments, and again he closes the distance between you without giving you a chance to question his words. Your hands finding their way up into his short hair, your fingers get tangled with the strands and you carefully tug at them as he deepens this kiss as well. He’s kissing you slowly as you let him have the lead naturally, and as you keep making out like this, you eventually find yourself burning up whole under his touch. He moves from your mouth to your neck eventually, and you lean your head back with a deep sigh as he begins scattering hot kisses all over the area. His hand that’s been propped up against the wall now finds the back of your nape to support you, and when he comes back up, he whispers a question,

“Do we keep going like we used to? Or do you wanna go all the way this time?” Drunk on his kisses, you pull him in for another one on the mouth, and as you part you mutter,

“We’re not kids anymore. Let’s go all the way.” You step aside and he lets you, and you reach for his hands to walk him over to your couch. Giving him a push, he lets himself fall back onto the sofa, leaning against the backrest as his curious gaze never leaves you. “Don’t need this anymore…” you mumble as you pull off your shirt and throw it somewhere onto the ground, and then you crawl into his lap to straddle him. His hands find purchase on your hips immediately as he looks up at you with warm eyes. You cup his face in your hands and you lean in, capturing his lips in a teasing kiss. Sinking your teeth into his bottom lip, you lure a breathy moan out of him, and wanting to hear more, you keep kissing him like that. Feathery touches that would for sure make him want more eventually become overshadowed by you rolling his hips on top of him, and with each time he lets you hear his voice you become more eager. It’s almost as if you’ve become the one who can’t wait, and he’s the one acting with patience.

“Never knew you could turn me on this much,” he mutters as you pull back, moving your hips at a leisurely pace. You can undoubtedly feel the bulge in his pants, and it’s certainly not leaving you unaffected.

“I grew up too, Hyuck,” you say, and then you bury your face in his neck. You kiss a trail up to the spot right below his ear as he leans back, and his hands wander up your sides and to your back when you start nibbling on his skin.

“Mhm… you did, hm?” he answers. He finds the clasp of your bra and undoes it, and as the piece of clothing slides down your arms, you sit back so he can take it off you and fling it to the ground as well, somewhere in the general direction of where your shirt should be. He holds onto your sides as he takes in the sight in front of him, and as he draws closer to connect his lips to the skin on your chest, you can hear him saying,

“I know I never told you this as a boy but you look beautiful. I really regret not saying that to you.” He kisses his way up from the valley of your breasts to your throat and then back to your mouth, and just before he can connect his lips to yours, you whisper,

“It’s fine. I might’ve actually fallen for you if you had done that.” You laugh, and he does too, but his grin has a different meaning to it than yours.

“Don’t say that. We don’t want anything unfortunate to happen.” Connecting his lips to yours, he runs his tongue across them to ask for permission to enter, and without protest you let him deepen the kiss.

“Now you’re the one who said it,” you mumble a response in between kisses. “That’s a stupid thought anyway.”

“Right.” His fingertips dance south along your spine, and he eventually tugs at your pants as a sign that he wants those off as well. And so you peel yourself out of his hold, and while you’re discarding your jeans, he slips out of his shirt, and both clothing items land somewhere on the floor, soon to be forgotten. He makes you lie down flat on the couch as he crawls on top of you, and when he leaves a trail of small kisses up your torso, one of his hands finds its way to your hips, thumb hooking under the fabric of your panties.

“These too,” he says. “I want these off too.” You give him the okay to take them off as you comb your fingers through his hair once, and as soon as he’s gotten rid of the last piece of clothing on your body, he lowers himself to let his lips draw a map of your figure. Feeling his warm hands against your sides, you let out a sigh as you lean your head back and you close your eyes for a bit, just enjoying the way his kisses feel against your skin. Your hands fly to his hair again, and you find yourself massaging his scalp as he’s slowly going down on you. You let him lift your legs up onto his shoulders eventually, and when he buries his face between your legs, you can’t but let out a small moan. Tongue lapping at your folds, he hums at your taste, and then he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking on it gently.

“That feel good?” he asks, slurring his words a bit, and you nod, tugging at the strands of hair between your fingers.

“Yeah. Keep going…” And so he does, alternating between teasing you with his lips and the tip of his tongue, and when he retrieves one hand to slide his fingers inside you, he comments,

“So wet for me, hm?”

“Y-yeah…” You can unmistakably feel the knot in your stomach being tied tighter with every single touch of his, and when he pumps his fingers in and out of you at a frustratingly slow pace, you find yourself begging for more. “Faster… p-please…” Donghyuck simply hums at your plea, before he obliges, curling his fingers inside you just a little faster. Gradually picking up on speed, the way he flicks his tongue against your clit along with the waves of pleasure that run through your body with each time he hits that sweet spot inside you make you slowly lose your mind, and you let him know just how good he’s making you feel by moaning in tune with his movements.

“Don’t stop… please don’t stop…” you mewl as you look down on yourself to find him already gazing back up at you, observing all of your reactions closely through half-lidded eyes. Just a few more repetitions and he’s throwing you over the edge, making you clench around his fingers as you throw your head back with a moan. “Fuck…” you mutter after he pulls out of you carefully, and he crawls back up to kiss you on the lips. You can taste yourself on his tongue as you share a lazy kiss, and once you part, you place your palms on his chest to push him off you.

“Your turn,” you simply state as you sit up and you make some space so you can comfortably kneel in front of the sofa. Getting the message, he hurriedly rids himself of his pants and boxers, and when he sits down in front of you, you don’t waste another second to wrap your fingers around his length. Giving him a few strokes, he’s fully hard in no time, and he watches as he leans back, enjoying the attention.

“You really have no patience anymore, huh,” he mutters, and you lick your lips before returning his gaze.

“Want me to torture you a bit? Make you beg for it? I can do that too.”

“I can beg if you want me to,” he retorts, the confident expression not being wiped off his face so easily, and you decide to keep that piece of information in mind. Just in case. But for now you’re not planning on making him wait - he’s right, you’ve become impatient, and you’re dying to know what kind of sounds you might lure out of him with his dick in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his tip a few times, watching him part his lips slightly as he lets you hear a deep sigh and a praise directed at you. “That’s right…” he mutters, and when you take his tip into your mouth fully, he lets you hear a moan so sweet, you swear you could cum just from the sound of it. Slowly bobbing your head up and down and having your hand that’s wrapped around his base follow those same movements, you enjoy the way he keeps moaning at your ministrations, until eventually you hum in approval and he whines from the pleasure.

“Fuck…” A curse escapes him when his tip hits the back of your throat and you gag a little, and you find yourself amused at how easy it is to make a guy whine as soon as you have him in a position like this. You go painfully slow, but he takes all of your teasing, and just when you start feeling bad for him because of how desperate his moans are, you speed up, making sure to take him in as far as you can.

“Shit, Y/N…” he calls out to you. “Wait-”

“Hm?” You come up at his words, letting him slip out of your mouth.

“Wanna cum in your pussy…” The request makes you grin.

“So demanding…” you mutter, shooting him a challenging look.

“Please…” he tries to convince you, his pupils shaking as he’s awaiting your answer. But you’ve already made up your mind on how you’re going to proceed, and so you merely throw him a grin, before taking him back into your mouth. He throws his head back at you sucking him off at a faster pace now, probably in a mixture of frustration and pleasure, and as more curses fall from his lips along with your name, you know he’s close. You hum at his desperation and at the way he’s twitching in your hand while he’s bucking his hips up into your touch, and the next time you’re sinking all the way down on him, he cums with a moan. You try to swallow everything as he releases into your mouth, and when you let go of him you lick your lips to get the rest of it too, all while he watches with a hazy mind. And then you crawl into his lap, leaving a trail of kisses down the side of his throat, and eventually you say,

“Why not both?” You grab his face in one hand, gaze falling to his lips, and before he can say anything you kiss him to cut off his train of thought. “We have so much time tonight…” you mutter against his lips in between kisses, and he merely lets out small moans at your words. “We can do all the things we want. But let’s move somewhere more comfortable first.” And so you hurriedly walk over to your bedroom, Donghyuck pushing you against the mattress as soon as you’re there, and he doesn’t waste a single second to kiss you again. His lips nipping at your collarbones, you throw your arms around him, until finally you switch positions again, and you end up sitting on top of him, sinking down on his hard cock and biting your lower lip from how good it feels to be filled up like this.

“Fuck…” Now it’s you who’s cursing, fingers intertwined with his as you’re pinning his hands down to keep yourself stable. You know he’s drinking up the sight in front of him as you start slowly riding him, and the way he looks at you only turns you on more.

“Shit, you look so pretty like this…” he mumbles, completely taken aback, and he sits up, freeing his hands to hold onto your sides instead. “Can I kiss you?”

“You’re asking that now?” you chuckle as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and he lets out a short laugh as he too realizes how ridiculous his question was.

“You’re right,” he mutters, leaning in. “Then I’ll just kiss you whenever I want.” A rush of heat courses through your body as he presses his lips against yours, and you roll your hips on top of him just a little faster.

“Please do,” you whisper, barely audible, before Donghyuck closes the distance between you again. You take your time making out, until both of you feel that you’re coming close again, and with one hand between your bodies, he starts rubbing your clit for you as you keep your pace.

“I’ll help you,” he whispers, unable to take his eyes off your face as you’re both completely drunk on the other’s touches.

“Mhm…” you moan, chasing your own high on top of him. You’re the first one who comes undone, digging your nails into his shoulders and burying your face in the crook of his neck as your high shakes you.

“Don’t stop, Y/N…” His words sound desperate, and you do your best to keep moving despite feeling the overstimulation building up. He has both his hands on your back now, and you let out a moan when you feel him dragging his nails down to your hips. “Shit…!” Spitting out a curse, he releases inside you, and finally you come to a halt. You stay in your positions for a while, waiting until your heartbeats have returned to a normal pace in each other’s arms, before you both lie down side by side, out of breath and grinning at the other.

“Didn’t think you’d get that good without me…” he mutters a comment.

“Hey!” you shout playfully. “What was I supposed to do if you just disappear on me like that?”

“You didn’t contact me either,” he tries to defend himself, but you both know it was him who stopped replying to your messages, even though your conversations were already scarce after graduating. For now you decide to say nothing - your mind filled with bliss from what your night out ended up turning into, you wouldn’t want to ruin the mood. Instead, he’s the one to break the silence.

“Wanna keep going?” he asks, scooting over closer to you and making you lie flat on your back, kissing a trail down your jawline and placing a hand on top of your stomach. “I wanna keep going,” he adds, more silently, as his fingers are already wandering south.

“Alright,” you mutter, your hand up in his hair again as he drags his fingers down your folds, dipping inside once and then coming back up to your clit to draw circles onto it. “If I walk weird tomorrow it’s your fault,” you add, laughing.

“You just made me wanna see that,” he jokes back, before pressing a kiss to the side of your throat and letting his fingers take care of you.

You keep in touch after that, texting each other throughout the day - even on those days where you barely find the time or energy to be social, you’ll at least send some memes back and forth - and meeting up whenever you both have some free time. It really feels like you’re continuing right where you had left off five years ago whenever you find yourselves unable to stop laughing because of your own bickering, or when you’re sitting side by side, having a more serious conversation and simply offering an open ear to the other. And at the same time something about the way you treat each other has undoubtedly changed. Of course you both grew up and you’re more mature than you were as high school students, but it seems there’s something else lingering in the air during every interaction you have, you just can’t really put your finger on what that is.

You also keep meeting up to have sex.

“So? What does that make us?” you ask a question into the dimly lit room, staring up at the ceiling. You’re both lying side by side on his bed, the sheets beneath you messed up as evidence of what you’ve been doing, and the chilly air in the room hitting your skin lets you cool down a bit.

“What? This?” Donghyuck asks, turning his head so he could look at you.

“Yeah,” you respond. “We’re not just friends if we’re constantly hooking up, are we?” Your words are accompanied by a chuckle, meant to tell him that you’re not being as serious as you sound. Or maybe you are, but mostly because your other friends keep asking where you’re sneaking off so frequently these days, and why you don’t seem to have the time to meet up with them anymore. And everytime you tell them you’re seeing a different friend, a part of you feels like you’re lying. Maybe that’s because they’ve stopped believing you too, and they keep urging you on to finally admit that you’re dating someone. But you’re not dating Donghyuck, right?

“Fuckbuddies?” He rolls onto his side, head supported by his hand, and he gives you a mischievous look.

“I guess,” you say, and after some consideration you add, “My friends keep asking who I’m meeting all the time. They think I have a boyfriend.”

“Well, what does it feel like when you kiss me?” You’re too stunned to speak for a moment, not expecting him to pose such a serious question.

“I mean… you’re a good kisser?” You grin at him, rolling onto your side as well so you could face him, and as you’re drawing near, he’s already reaching out to capture your chin between his thumb and index finger.

“That’s all?”

“I think so.” He lets his lips brush against yours, puffy and reddened from making out earlier, and you feel warmth wrap around you. You also feel safe with him, but that’s not exclusively related to him kissing you, so you don’t feel the need to mention it.

“Then I can’t be your boyfriend,” he mutters when you part.

“So friends… with benefits then?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, great,” you say, letting yourself fall onto your back, sinking into the mattress. “I can’t go around telling my friends that I’m seeing a fuckbuddy.” Your friend giggles beside you.

“I mean you don’t have to,” he says. “If it’s easier to explain, you can just pretend you’re seeing a boyfriend. I don’t mind.”

“I wonder…” you mumble, more to yourself than to him. “Then they’ll want to meet you, so… anyway.” You sit up, letting your feet dangle off the side of the bed. “I’m kinda hungry. You wanna order something?”

“I’ll make us some ramen. But we should shower first.” He sits up as well, and when you throw him a look over your shoulder, he cocks his head to the side, giving you another grin. “Together?” You laugh at his suggestion.

“You just want another round in there, don’t you? We’re never gonna get food in that case. I’m going alone.”

“Awww…” he whines in defeat and it makes you smile. You crawl closer to him, placing a peck onto his pouting lips.

“We kiss an awful lot for fuckbuddies, though,” you remark, and then you get up.

“I don’t think we’re kissing nearly enough…” he mumbles an answer. Amused by his words, you shoot him another glance, and then you trot off to the bathroom.

“You free Friday night?” You glance at your phone screen when it lights up to quickly read Donghyuck’s message that you just received, and as you let out a sigh, you return your focus to the notebook in front of you. Skimming through your handwritten notes from the lecture you visited every wednesday afternoon a year ago still gives you anxiety - you’re not sure what more you’re supposed to study than this and the materials displayed on your laptop screen, and yet you don’t feel nearly prepared enough. You’re in your last semester - or at least you’re planning for this to be the last one - and you finally forced yourself to register for the exam you keep postponing because you horribly failed it the first time. The worst part is that it’s an oral exam, so no turning back once you’ve answered (or not answered) a question, even if a better response comes to you later on during the exam. And you hate that, because you know your brain tends to black out in stressful situations, and panicking while you’re supposed to recite your knowledge on a complicated topic doesn’t exactly help with that. You tear your eyes away from the materials eventually, taking another sip of your coffee and then picking up your phone off the small round dinner table in your flat.

“Sorry, I don’t have time then ㅠㅠ” You press send, and it doesn’t take long for your friend to reply.

“On the weekend? I’m busy Saturday but Sunday is fine!!”

“I don’t think I can make time until Tuesday. Sorry. Difficult exam coming up…”

“Then you should take a break!! I’m sure you’ve been studying all day” He’s not wrong with his assumption, but still you can’t bring yourself to set aside a few hours to fool around with him. You wouldn’t be able to relax and truly get the exam off your mind anyway, so you refuse again, even if it hurts you.

It’s been like this for a while now. The last time you’ve seen Donghyuck’s face was almost three weeks ago - after that university and sending job applications have taken up all your free time, and the few hours you had in between to rest you simply spent alone in the comfort of your own apartment, feeling too exhausted to even consider making plans with someone else. You know it might do you good to get out more for other things than going to uni, but at the same time you know you simply don’t have the energy right now - or you would’ve already scheduled a meetup with friends. It sucks, and you’re hoping for some space to breathe in between your schedules sometime soon, but at the same time you know you will be busy with uni until your graduation, and from then on you’ll be busy getting accustomed to work and proving yourself there. And the more you think about it, the more it starts to dawn on you that things will likely not change in the near future, and that somehow the life of a freshman and that of a senior don’t really match well at all.

But you brush those thoughts off for now. The last thing you need right now is a distraction, and so you get back to revising the contents for the exam.

And then comes Sunday afternoon, and you can feel the panic coursing through your veins as if you were about to suffocate from it any second now. You’ve always had some kind of exam anxiety, but it’s never been this bad, and you have absolutely no idea what to do with it except endure and hope that tomorrow will pass quickly. That’s when your phone buzzes to let you know you’ve gotten a message, and what you see when you open the chat room tips you over the edge.

“This would’ve been more fun if we had watched it together~” - along with a picture of a laptop screen showing the credits of a movie, the interior of Donghyuck’s flat showing in the background. Your hands are shaking as you read his message, your head spinning because suddenly the stress and a feeling of helplessness overwhelms you. You end up doing the first thing that comes to mind - you call him. He picks up after the first ring.

“Jealous?” he teases you, and you stay quiet, your words suddenly stuck in your throat. Hearing only your ragged breathing, he sounds serious when he continues talking after a few moments of silence. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

“What’s up? Wanna talk about it?”

“...the exam…”

“Ahh… you’re freaking out because of it?”

“Y-yeah…” Tears well up in your eyes, but you fight hard to keep them from falling. You know if you start crying now, chances are you won’t be able to talk properly in order to explain yourself to him. “I studied everything but I don’t feel like it’s enough… I have no idea how I’m supposed to pass tomorrow…” A sob escapes you at the end of it, and Donghyuck doesn’t hesitate to answer,

“I’ll come over. Just wait for me and hold tight, I’ll be there in 30.”

And so that’s what he does. He doesn’t even give you the time to refuse when he hangs up, and sure enough roughly 30 minutes later he’s at your doorstep. Putting down his bags and taking off his shoes, the first thing he does is pull you into a tight hug.

“Come here,” whispered against the side of your head as he’s already holding you close, he hugs you until he can feel some of the tension leaving your body. When he finally lets you go, he picks up a paper bag he brought with him, holding it out to you and you take it from him. “I bought them on the way. I thought you could use some comfort food.” A glance inside the bag reveals a box decorated with the logo of your favourite bakery.

“Oh my god… thank you!” you exclaim, and you give him another hug as he lets out a bit of an awkward laugh.

“Ah, it’s fine, it’s nothing. Let’s have these while we go over your materials together, okay?”

“Huh?” You take a step back and raise your eyebrows at him.

“I came to help you study. So you can kick ass tomorrow!” Throwing a fist in the air in a victorious gesture, you cringe a bit at his childlike enthusiasm, but at the same time you feel thankful. Like you had been in free fall for the past days and finally someone came to catch you.

“Okay,” you accept his offer to help, and then you walk over to the small table in your living room where your laptop and your notes are scattered all over. Briefly organizing them, you skim through them together, and when you’ve reached the end of it, Donghyuck starts asking you random questions related to the topic that he can come up with. And with every question that you manage to answer, you feel just a little calmer, until you’ve gone through everything several times and it’s long dark outside.

“You’re gonna do well tomorrow,” the guy sitting next to you tells you, throwing his hand up in the air to do some stretching and you do the same, your body aching for a bit of movement after sitting down for hours.

“You think so?”

“Of course!” He seems almost offended at you doubting yourself now. “Look at all these things you memorized perfectly! You’re gonna be just fine.”

“You’re right…” you mutter. “I do feel more confident now.” Yet, you let your head hang.

“But…?” he asks.

“But… I know by the time the exam starts tomorrow I’ll be so nervous, I might forget everything…” He reaches for your hands, taking them into his and giving both of them a gentle squeeze as he looks intently at your face.

“Then you think about how well you just did and how long we just spent repeating everything you studied. With this much preparation, there’s no way you would fail.” You know that realistically speaking, that’s not necessarily true, but you decide to believe him for now. Putting trust into his words puts you at ease, so that’s what you’re going to do.

“Alright,” you say. “It’ll be fine.”

“Of course it will,” he says, laughing as if he had not a single doubt about it.

“But…”

“Another but?”

“It’s almost 2am,” you say.

“Oh.”

“Wanna stay over? It takes you ages to get home if you have to take the night buses, right?”

“It’s fine, I’ll just take a taxi,” he replies, adding, “I don’t wanna stress you out more by staying over.”

“No, I-” All the times you felt yourself forced to turn down his invitations to meet up during the past few weeks are suddenly fresh in your memory, and eventually you manage to say, “I’d actually be thankful if you could stay over… you know… keep the bad thoughts away…”

“Sure…” he responds, and growing very quiet suddenly, he gets up to wrap you into another hug. “I’ll stay.”

You each take a shower and get ready for bed, him throwing on some of his clothes you had lying around at your place anyway, and when you get under the sheets together, it feels different than usually when you sleep in the same bed. Neither of you has any thoughts about having sex for a change, and instead he simply pulls you close to let you rest your head on top of his chest. You wrap an arm around his waist as you listen to his heartbeat, already feeling sleepiness overcome you as you snuggle up to him and you can feel him drawing mindless patterns onto your skin. You feel a sense of peace and safety washing over you when your eyelids simply fall shut, and as you fall asleep you almost don’t register the way he presses a soft kiss onto your forehead.

When you open the email telling you that you got a C on your exam, the first thing you can think of doing is letting Donghyuck know.

“I passed!!!” You send him a message, and he surely doesn’t let you wait too long for an answer, along with a little sticker of a bear wearing a gold medal and giving a thumbs up.

“I told you so!!”

“It’s all thanks to you,” you write. “We need to go celebrate! Drinks on me.”

“Sounds good~”

With a broad smile on your face you put your phone into the pocket of your padded jacket. It has become cold outside, and there’s a thin layer of snow on the streets from last night. It’s the beginning of December, and before Christmas and new years you’re still going to be very busy. You have two job interviews coming up, have to prepare for your final exams and in between you should find some time to work on your dissertation. Still somehow you’re confident that you would easily be able to find a date where you can go out for your little celebration with your friend, but when you run into him on campus a week later, reality hits you right in the face.

“Y/N!” Donghyuck calls out to you as he spots you among a bunch of other students, and you fall behind to briefly talk to him.

“Oh, hi,” you say, not having seen him at all.

“You still didn’t reply to my messages,” he remarks and you immediately pull out your phone, indeed finding that you’ve left him on read two days ago.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you apologize as you remember that you clearly had the intent to respond to him, but then very obviously failed to do so. “Ah, if we can meet… today?”

“Yesterday,” he corrects you. “But I guess that didn’t happen…” You can unmistakably see the disappointment in his expression, even though he’s doing his utmost to hide it, and you furrow your brows at the sight in front of you.

“I’m sorry… I must’ve forgotten to reply while studying or something,” you say, unable to look him in the face. “You know, finals coming up.”

“Yeah… I’m studying a lot too these days,” he says, quickly adding, “But I guess as a senior it’s only natural that you’re even busier than I am.” His words sting for some reason, but it’s not like he’s wrong. Truth be told, you’ve been studying every free minute for the past few days, and in between you had a job interview that you don’t have the best of gut feelings about. You were so busy that you barely manage to have three meals a day, and yet you feel guilty about not being able to make time for him.

“I’m really sorry, Hyuck…” you say and he mutters an “it’s okay” as an answer. “But it’s not, is it?” To that he merely glances to the side, showing a sorry smile. And right then you have an idea. “You know what?” As you reach out to take his hand into yours, he raises his eyebrows at you, taken by surprise by your sudden action. “Let’s set a date right now. Then we don’t have to worry about me forgetting to reply or something.”

“But… that won’t change the fact that you’re super busy…” he reasons, but you cut him off.

“It’s fine, I should be able to spare at least a few hours,” you say, opening your calendar app on your phone and scrolling through the days until exam week starts. “How about next Friday? Friday night sounds like a good time for a little study break and having a celebration instead.”

“S-sure.” You barely notice how he’s atypically dumbfounded at your enthusiasm, only focusing on the fact that you finally found a date to see each other again.

“Great! My place or yours?” you ask, already typing it into your phone.

“Mine… you wanna bring the drinks? Then I’ll take care of the food,” he offers, now taking his phone out as well, probably to put the meet up into his calendar as well.

“Sounds good,” you say in a rush. “Then I’ll see you Friday! Sorry, but… I really have to go now. I was gonna study some more at the library - you coming too?”

“Ah, no, I… have class in half an hour,” he explains briefly, and as you wave your goodbyes and you’re already running off, you fail to notice how his shoulders are suddenly slouched over and there’s a hint of disappointment in the way he looks at you as you’re walking away.

You sigh as you stare at the email you just received, and you immediately regret even checking your mailbox in the middle of studying in the first place. You got rejected for the last job you applied to - but at least you should be thankful that they let you know about it in the first place, right? After all, the last two companies didn’t even do that much after your interview with them. You gulp, trying to swallow all the disappointment bubbling up inside and attempting to shove it back down to where it came from, and then eventually you cross your arms on the table, resting your head on top and you close your eyes for a while. Another sigh escapes you, and you feel the weight of your responsibilities lay heavily on your shoulders. You’re trying not to beat yourself up over not having found a job for after your graduation yet - you know that everyone’s struggling with finding employment these days. But you really don’t want to take on a job you’re overqualified for, or one that’s not in your field of studies at all. You’ve already made too many compromises because of this, like being willing to move to another city for your job, or expanding on what type of positions you’re applying to. And still, nothing. It’s starting to get to you, even though you hate that it is, and even though you had told yourself to focus on your exams and your dissertation first and foremost. But all of these things stacked on top of each other have led you to lose your spark a bit, and there’s no denying you’re starting to feel burnt out.

You tell yourself it’s fine, it will pass and eventually your life will get less stressful again. But for now you can feel that you’re at your limit, and you could really use some comfort.

“Right,” you mutter to yourself, lifting your head and looking at the date displayed in the bottom corner of your laptop screen. “Only a few hours to go. Then I can see him.” It’s Friday afternoon, and so you take a deep breath and bring yourself to study some more, before you can finally go to Donghyuck’s place, spending a full evening not having to think about any of this. Burying your head in your books and your lecture notes, you end up not realizing how fast the time is passing, and next time you check the clock, it’s already past 7.

“Oh god…” you quickly pick up your phone, seeing that your friend already sent you a message asking where you are. You were scheduled to be at his place at 7, but somehow you completely lost track of time.

“I’m so sory I didn’t realize hwo late is is. Ill hurry!!” You type up that message as quickly as possible, ignoring the typos as you send it, and then you jump out of your seat to get ready.

It’s almost 8pm when he opens the door for you and you apologize first thing as you hand him the tote bag with the alcohol you had promised to bring.

“Ah, but you thought of the important stuff,” he says with a forced smile, trying to brighten the mood a bit before he invites you in and you kick off your shoes and take off your coat to follow him inside.

“I’m really really sorry,” you say once again when you’ve made yourself comfortable on his couch. “I was studying and suddenly it was already this late…”

“It’s okay,” Donghyuck says as he carries over two glasses from the kitchen, handing you one of them. “We’re both busy, it’s not like I don’t understand.”

“But you’re upset.”

“A little,” he admits without looking you in the eyes, and when he continues talking, he does his best to sound cheerful. “But let’s not let that ruin the entire evening. We were both looking forward to today, right?”

“Yeah,” you say. “You won’t believe how glad I am to finally be here,” you add, and you feel the way your body relaxes just by being near him. You earn yourself a bright smile for that comment, before he lifts up the glass in his hand.

“I found the recipe for this a few days ago and wanted to try it,” he says. “I thought it’s your style.” You find a few ice cubes swimming in the beverage he handed you, along with a slice of lemon. The color is a dark shade of yellow at the bottom, and completely transparent at the top, and you nod at the presentation.

“It looks good,” you say. “I’ll try it. Cheers!” Each taking a sip, you agree that you like the taste, and the guy sitting next to you on his sofa explains,

“The recipe says you should put a bit of mint in as well, but… I didn’t have any.”

“I think it’s good the way it is… but, I’m starving. Let’s order food?”

“Me too,” he answers, getting out his phone.

You order takeout, and while you eat and drink, you watch a movie that you’ve both been wanting to see for some time. You end up chatting here and there during less interesting scenes, and even though you enjoy the movie overall, you enjoy talking to him more. Eventually, as your eyelids begin to feel heavy, you rest your head on his shoulder and he lets you, and you don’t think anything of the peaceful smile he gives you upon feeling you so close to him. He puts one of his hands on top of your thigh, mindlessly rubbing his palm up and down, and by the end of the movie you can’t deny anymore that his actions are affecting you. Credits still rolling, you turn your head to face him, and wordlessly you kiss him, his lips melting against yours. You part for a mere second in which you put your hand behind his neck, and as you let yourself fall against the backrest of his sofa, he hovers above you, distance closing again.

“Hyuck…” you breathe his name when you part the next time. “Need you…”

“Let’s go somewhere more comfortable,” he mutters into a sweet kiss, and then he gets up, taking you by your hands to pull you up along with him. As soon as you step into the bedroom you pull him in for another kiss, and you stumble backwards as he steers you towards his bed. He barely lets you lie down when he’s already on top of you, kissing you more deeply. Tongue running across your lip to ask for permission to enter, you allow it without hesitation, and you moan at the way he kisses you slowly but passionately.

“I’ll take care of you,” he says after parting, “just lean back, okay?”

“Okay…” you answer and he lets his fingertips wander down your clothed body. Undoing the button of your jeans, he unhurriedly slips his hand inside them, and he watches you intently as his fingertips brush against your soaked panties, his voice sultry as he teases you, “So wet already… I didn’t know you were that desperate for me…” Before letting you answer, he leans in to place a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth, starting to rub up and down between your folds slowly.

“I thought I’d go crazy without this…” you confess, arms wrapped around him and one hand up in his hair. You play with his locks as he teases you, and you whine, “More, please… don’t make me wait even longer…”

“What do you want, baby?” he asks, and then he buries his face in your neck, leaving kisses there as you throw your head back.

“Anything… even if it’s just your fingers, please just get me off…” you beg, only now realizing just how desperate you really are. Donghyuck gulps at your words, and he kisses his way up to your jaw and along it, until his lips are hovering right above yours.

“Tell me how badly you need me…” he mutters, pushing the fabric of your underwear aside so he could touch you directly. “I wanna hear everything.” As he starts rubbing small circles on your clit his lips go back to tending to your neck, kissing and nipping on the sensitive skin and making it that much more difficult for you to form coherent sentences. Still you can’t but do as told.

“So bad… need you so bad,” you mewl. “I tried to get off so many times, but nothing feels as good as when you touch me…” He hums at your words, granting you a finger dipping inside your pussy for just a moment in return and gasping at just how wet you are.

“I’ll make up for it,” he says. “I’ll make you cum so good.” You whimper, and then you instinctively buck your hips as his finger ghosts above your entrance. You hear him curse through gritted teeth at how needy you’re becoming, and blood rushes to your head from the thought alone that your state could turn him on so much as well.

“Please… just give me your fingers…” you whine, and to your surprise Donghyuck doesn’t drag out his teasing for longer. And so you cry out when he pushes inside, pumping in and out of you while watching your every reaction to his touch. “Fuck…” you hiss, already seeing your high approaching from far away. “I’m not gonna last long…”

“It’s okay,” he coos over you. “Wanna feel you cum around my fingers… can you take another one?”

“Y-yes… yes please…” you say mindlessly, only being able to think about how you want to feel him more. The stretch is bearable when he pushes into you with three fingers, and when he presses his thumb against your bundle of nerves, fingering you skillfully, you think you’re about to lose your mind. “Fuck… yes… don’t stop, please…” you mewl as he slowly picks up speed until he can see the bliss on your facial features. At this point all you can do is moan his name and dig your nails into his shoulder blades as you cling to him, bucking your hips in chase of your orgasm.

“Shit, you’re so pretty…” you hear him mutter under his breath as he marvels at the sight in front of him, and next thing you know your whole body is shaken by the force of your high. You whine as he fucks you through it, right until your last aftershocks, and then you simply close your eyes as you lay back on his bed, feeling the exhaustion from the past weeks taking over you. Licking his fingers clean after pulling out of you, he then captures your chin between his thumb and index finger to make you look at him.

“What do you want me to do next?” he asks, his words sounding maybe even sweeter than usual to your ears, and you blame it on the way your mind is still in a haze from your orgasm. You think about it for a short while, and in the end you simply snuggle up to him closely.

“Let’s just… stay like this for a while,” you answer. “If that’s okay with you… I think I just need to be close to you.”

“Sure…” Donghyuck mutters, a bit taken aback by your response that must’ve come very unexpectedly to him. However, he doesn’t hesitate to put an arm around your frame, making you feel safe in a warm embrace. “That good?” he asks, and when you nod he presses his lips against your forehead, lingering there for a while.

You don’t move, not knowing how much time is passing while you’re merely listening to the other’s breathing and enjoying each other’s warmth. At that moment, you wish you could stay like this forever, but as you close your eyes and begin to relax, all your thoughts from the past weeks about your situation with him catch up to you one by one. Deep inside you know it can’t stay like this. And the longer you’re dragging this out, the more clearly you can see just how unfair this is on him. And so eventually, you don’t see any other plausible course of action to take next than to start talking.

“Thank you… for being by my side,” you mutter. Your hand having found its way into his, you’re playing with his fingers, eyes focused on that. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you lately… really.”

“Of course!” he responds, moving back a bit to get a proper look at your face. “You know I’d do anything for you.” You chuckle at his exaggerated words, letting go of his hand and ruffling his hair instead.

“I’m glad to have met you again,” you continue. “But… I’ve been thinking, you know? And I don’t think we can go on like this.”

“What…?”

“Just… I’m only gonna get busier, you know…?” The exact moment that he sits up, his comforting touch being torn away from you as he stares at you with disbelief on his face, you inevitably begin to feel like you fucked up. But you started this now, and there’s no way you could dig yourself back out of this mess, so you decide it’d be for the best to just see it through and be honest with him. “You know that I could never pay you back all that you’ve done for me… Hyuck.” You call out his name, but he barely even reacts with nothing but a blank expression in his eyes. You could’ve sworn you’ve never seen him this pale. “I’m gonna graduate, Hyuck. You’ll still be a student when I start working. Hell, I might have to move somewhere completely different if I don’t find a job in this city soon. And once I do find employment, I’m gonna have to work my ass off to prove my worth. I won’t have time to fool around like this anymore…”

“Fool… around…?” he repeats, speaking slowly, as his expression suddenly reflects a hundred complicated feelings. “Fool around… was all this is to you?”

“I mean… we’re friends too, obviously-”

“Y/N,” he cuts you off, and the way he says your name stabs you like a knife. “I have feelings too, you know. You can’t just…” A bitter laugh escapes him. “You’re going to tell me that it’s better if we didn’t see each other anymore, aren’t you?”

“No!” you immediately refute. “I mean-... look, we can stay friends, but I don’t know how much we’ll actually be able to see each other-”

“Friends?” he repeats in utter disbelief. “You don’t realize it, do you?”

“Realize what-”

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I love you.”

“What…?” That is all you manage to reply to his confession. You really did never notice it, and so this comes as a shock to you. You realize that maybe him saying he’d do anything for you wasn’t an exaggeration at all, but you didn’t think he’d keep this fuckbuddy thing up if he had feelings for you all along. As if he had read your mind, he says,

“I’m sorry… I-... I didn’t want to tell you like this…” he speaks, his head hanging low now. “Not when I know you have a thousand other things to worry about, but… I just couldn’t… you said all these hurtful things. I don’t think you know how much hearing all that just now hurts.”

“I-,” you begin, but you don’t know what to say. You stare at him in utter disbelief for a moment, and then all of a sudden, from one second to the other, you feel like you’re going to suffocate if you don’t get out of here as fast as possible. “I… I can’t do this right now.” You get up off the bed and zip up your jeans. Your head is in chaos and your emotions are all jumbled up, but the one thing you can clearly feel is the anger burning in your veins. You truly are upset that he dropped such a bomb on you just before exams start and you need a clear head more than anything. “I’m going home… sorry,” you mutter under your breath, and without another look back at the guy who can’t do anything but watch as you’re slipping out of his grasp once again, you walk out of the door.

“Good luck for your exams” You let out a sigh as you finally delete the notification of the message Donghyuck sent you four days ago as you’re on your way to uni for your last exam. It’s Friday noon and you can’t wait for all of this to be over, the beginning of winter break feeling like you’re finally about to reach the safe shore after you’ve been almost drowning for weeks.

You didn’t talk to Donghyuck for the entirety of the week - of course, or you would’ve long answered his message that he sent you on Monday. But you couldn’t bring yourself to, you didn’t even dare open the chatroom. Instead, you had focused on the necessities to get you through this week: sleep, eat, revise everything you studied, be on time for your exams, rinse and repeat. And now that it’s already the last day of this nightmare, you can’t wait to simply crash into bed once you arrive home tonight.

It’s true that you’ve been feeling the relief after every single exam you finished, like some of the weight was taken off your shoulder with each time you walk out of a lecture hall. And yet you still feel the tiredness in your bones, but there’s something else tugging at your limbs and trying to make you stop running from one task to the other. However, you don’t let it. Too big is the fear of what you might find if you do stop and have a look, so you force all thoughts out of your mind that have nothing to do with your exams. And today as well your mind is empty when you take your seat and you’re handed the paper you’re supposed to fill out during the next one and a half hours, trusting your memory and your ability to recall the correct answers you have studied to each question.

As you’re leaving the lecture hall, finally done with the last one of your exams, somebody calls out to you. You turn your head to find one of your friends catching up with you, greeting you with a lively expression on her face.

“We’re finally done,” she says. “Now we only need to wait for our final paper to be graded and then we’re free!”

“Yeah,” you respond, trying to sound cheerful but inevitably failing. You’re just tired at this point, and no matter how relieved you are that exams are over, you can’t bring yourself to be happy.

“What’s with you?” your friend asks, concern in her voice. “Do you have to redo one of your exams?”

“No, no, it’s nothing,” you assure her, but she doesn’t buy it.

“There’s something up with you. Did studying take that much out of you?”

“I guess,” you reply as you walk down the hallway with her, but then you hesitate. “Actually… nevermind.”

“Hm? Y/N, what is it? You’re being really weird.” She steps in front of you, making you halt on the spot, but eventually she keeps walking. “It’s okay, I shouldn’t pressure you to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“...it’s about a friend,” you admit finally.

“A friend?” she repeats. “Did something happen to them?”

“No, just… we just haven’t seen each other much lately, and… yeah.” You lower your head and she steps closer.

“That must be a very good friend if you miss them so much,” she states, matter of factly, and that’s when you feel a stab right to your heart, putting you in physical pain.

“Right…” you mutter. Without you realizing, Donghyuck’s presence has painted your ordinary days in a color of hope, wrapping you in a feeling of safety whenever you’re with him and making you become way too comfortable around him. And now that it’s come this far, you don’t know how you’re supposed to scratch off all that paint anymore. The thought alone makes you feel sick to the stomach - you shouldn’t have been such an idiot. You knew where this would lead, and that you wouldn’t have the time to fool around with him anymore once you’ve graduated. A feeling of deep regret overcomes you.

You shouldn’t have said yes when he suggested leaving your class reunion together.

When you get home that day, you finally let yourself feel the full consequences of the past weeks filled with stress and you crash into your bed immediately. You haven’t planned to go to sleep this early, but at some point you simply find yourself drifting off, and the next time you open your eyes it’s Saturday morning.

Your body aches as you force yourself to get out of bed, and when you open the curtains and the sunlight blinds your eyes, you curse existence itself. You trod over to the bathroom, wash your face, and after finding yourself unable to look at your reflection in the mirror, you return to your little kitchen to get yourself a simple breakfast. Finishing it while scrolling through social media on your phone, you then get yourself back to your bed, plummeting down on it and grabbing one of the books stacked atop your bedside table that you never found the time to finish while uni has kept you occupied. You open it on the page you had left off weeks ago, and after fighting your way through roughly two and a half paragraphs, you give up and you put the book back to where it’s been resting untouched until now. Your mind just won’t let you focus on this now, so you pick your heavy body up off the comfortable sheets and decide to take a shower first of all.

Things continue like this for the next few days. Even though exams are finally over, you just can’t find it in you to rest properly. Neither going out to have fun nor staying at home and having some quality alone time sound appealing to you, and soon enough you figure out why. No matter what you do or where you are, there’s this constant pain in your chest dragging you down, because time and time again you find yourself impulsively wanting to tell Donghyuck about your day, or even just sending him a funny meme you found on instagram. But you can’t. In a way this reminds you of five years ago, when you started spending less and less time together in high school and then eventually broke up with each other. You recall finding yourself in situations like this back when you started college as well, wanting to tell him about something fun or exciting that happened but feeling unable to, because it’s already been months since you had last talked. However, there’s one significant difference between then and now.

Then, you merely found it a shame that you couldn’t freely text him or talk to him anymore. But you had moved on, finding new friends to talk to about those same things. Now, it’s like someone had torn a chunk of yourself out of your chest, and you’re slowly bleeding out as your nervous system prevents you from doing anything at all, signaling you that there must be a more urgent matter to take care of first. And only once you come to understand that this matter has to do with nothing other than Donghyuck himself, that’s when something finally connects in your mind. Your days have been painted with his colors, but maybe you’re not supposed to get rid of all that paint. Maybe you’re simply supposed to embrace it, because after all those years he’s become someone who’s just right for you. And maybe he’s become someone you can even come to love.

No, he’s already someone you love, you just never realized it.

Without thinking, you open your chatroom with Donghyuck, his last message still unanswered, and you start typing.

“I need to see you.”

“Now.”

You stand on his doorstep, taking a deep breath. Donghyuck had texted you back eventually, offering to meet at his place, so that’s where you are now, nervous to ring the doorbell. It was you who suddenly decided to come see him, so why are you so hesitant?

Another deep breath, exhaled shakily, and you reach out to press the bell button. Maybe 10 seconds later, the door opens, and when Donghyuck mutters a greeting with a distant expression in his eyes, it’s like a slap to your face.

“Come in, I guess,” he says as he’s already turning around, and you do as told. Taking your shoes off, you follow him a few steps inside, and shooting you a cold look, he asks, “What do you need to talk about?”

You’ve never seen him like this. Even when you broke up at the end of high school there wasn’t such a dark expression on his face. At that moment you have no idea how to shake off the guilt anymore, and so all you can do is let the words burst out of you.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry for doing this to you.” He watches you with a look over his shoulder and you let your head hang, hoping he isn’t aware of the way tears are welling up in your eyes. “I can’t imagine how much I must’ve hurt you.” You add those words through gritted teeth, afraid of a sob suddenly making its way past your lips if you’re not careful.

“Then why are you the one crying?” he asks, staying surprisingly calm.

“B-because…” You gulp, and figuring that it’s too late anyway, you lift your chin to look at him and you use the sleeves of your shirt to wipe the tears from your eyes. “Because I’m an idiot. And I don’t want to see the person I love suffer.”

“Y/N…” he breathes your name before turning around fully to face you. He steps closer, but still keeps a good distance between you two. “You rejected me only a few days ago…”

“I know.” Your words are merely a whisper now. “Because I was scared… the future seems so overwhelming that I kept thinking I don’t have space for something like this. But… that doesn’t mean… that I didn’t still fall in love with you.” Silence follows, the only sound disrupting it being the soft sigh Donghyuck lets out before he finally closes the distance between you.

“Can I… hold you?” You nod at his question and you let him come closer, until you find yourself safely wrapped into his embrace, his warm breath tickling your neck as he buries his face there.

“I’m so sorry for how I acted… you must really hate me now…” you mutter, and you’re almost startled when your friend lets out a laugh as he’s holding you.

“Yes, because I always go around hugging my enemies like this,” he says with a tired yet cheeky grin on his lips, and seeing that expression on his face suddenly washes all your worries away.

“Right…”

“It’s okay, Y/N… I know you had a rough time. I shouldn’t have confessed to you so suddenly either,” he apologizes, but you immediately shake your head, vigorously.

“No, don’t say sorry! I… I kind of get it… that it had to get out,” you say. “Especially after I said all those hurtful things to you.” He brings one hand up to your cheek, brushing his knuckles against the skin there and as his eyes scan your facial features you can unmistakably see how much he adores you. It makes your heart soar, and you part your lips as your gaze falls to his mouth.

“Y/N,” he calls out to you. “Does that mean… I can ask you to be my girlfriend now?”

“Sure…” you mumble, the urge to feel his lips on yours clouding your mind. “And when I’m your girlfriend… can you kiss me then?”

“Of course,” he chuckles, and he takes a tiny step away from you so he could take your hands into his, intertwining your fingers. “Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?” You can’t suppress the smile that creeps onto your face as you listen to his question, and you nod.

“Yes, please,” you answer. “Let me be your girlfriend.” And then he kisses you, slowly and carefully, and this time you aren’t confused on what those feelings he’s pouring into this kiss are. This time you know that it’s all the love he has for you, and you let it wrap you into a veil of warmth and comfort, feeling safe with him.

“I love you,” you mutter in between kisses, and eventually your hands find their way up into his hair. You kiss him back as you comb through it, and when you hear him whisper those same words back at you in between kisses, you once again can’t control the smile on your lips. You part to look at each other, finding an unmistakable desire for more behind his gaze, and so you begin moving as you connect your lips to his again.

"I'm sorry..." you mutter in between kisses, as you're steering him towards the bedroom, and he lets out a sigh against your lips in response. "I want to make it up to you."

"You don't have to," Donghyuck mutters with his hands on your waist, and you reach the bed, positioning yourselves so you could have him sit with one swift push against his chest. Crawling on top of him as he merely looks up at you, eyes half-lidded and lips slightly parted while he awaits your next kiss, he's already completely drunk on you.

"Then see it as me taking care of you?" you whisper, reconnecting your lips to his. Your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders and him having his hands securely placed on your sides for stability, you merely keep kissing like that. Unhurriedly, because now you both know there's nothing rushing you anymore, nothing that would tear you apart.

"I love you." He mutters those words as you part, and when you open your eyes you can see him already nervously peeking up at you. You can't help but smile endearingly, cupping his cheek with one hand before you lean in for another sweet kiss to his reddened lips.

"I love you too, Hyuck," you say just when you pull back, and you let your fingertips wander down his upper body. Watching his face closely for his reactions, you pull his shirt off him, tossing it to the floor, and then you add, "Lie down for me, baby. I'll make you feel good." It comes as a surprise even to you to see him obey so quickly, and you let your palm glide down the bare skin on his chest and abdomen as he lies back. And then, when you reach for his wrists to pin them against the bed right next to his head, you can see a slight but still apparent blush creeping onto his cheeks, and he lets out a sound that's somewhere between a groan and a quiet whine.

"Fuck, you make me go crazy," you mutter as you press another kiss to his puffy lips, and when you sink your teeth into his bottom lip he moans into your mouth, the act alone sending heatwaves through your body. You instinctively roll your hips on top of his, earning yourself another small mewl from him, and then you trail kisses from the corner of his mouth to his throat. He leans his head back to give you better access, brows furrowed as he sighs in contentment. Forming his hands into fists, he digs his nails into his palms and whines some more as you continue grinding down on him, and the way you feel him grow underneath you turns you on as well. And then eventually you let go of his wrists to work your way down, peppering kisses all over his chest as he immediately throws his arms around your body, holding onto you tightly.

"Hyuck..." you call out his name as you sit up briefly, and then you continue trailing nips and kisses down his body. "Let me hear you." He curses as your hand ghosts above his core, watching you with an expectant gaze in his eyes. You pull down the sweatpants he's wearing, and then his underwear, both just enough so his hard length is exposed. You wrap your fingers around him, and you kneel above him now, one of his thighs positioned between your legs, so you could get a good look at his face as you start to slowly jerk him off.

"Look at me," you demand, and he does, the blush returning to his cheeks.

"Faster..." he mutters, barely audible, and you teasingly ask him to repeat himself. "Faster, please..." he begs through gritted teeth, and when you tighten your grip on his shaft just a little bit, he responds with a moan. "Can't take it..."

"Are you gonna let me hear more of those pretty moans?" you question, lips quivering in anticipation.

"Y-yes..." You don't know if your mind is tricking you or if his blush is growing just a bit darker as he answers, but either way you begin to move your hand faster, having him whining underneath you as he throws his head back. You watch with your lips slightly parted, and it's not like you've never seen him like this before, but there's just something about the way he gives himself up to pleasure when you have him in this kind of position that always gets you going. You move your hips in tune with the speed at which you get him off, grinding your clothed core down on his thigh, and he pushes his leg up just a bit to give you more friction.

"Shit..." you hiss, pleasure clouding your mind, and Donghyuck reaches down to wrap his fingers around your hand, guiding you into a faster pace. You collect the precum leaking his tip and use it as lube to glide down his length more smoothly, and as you can see on his face that he's about to lose himself to the sensation, you mutter a warning, "Don't cum yet."

"But-" he whines, and you take your hand away just before he can reach his high. "Y/N..." he desperately whines your name and you lean in to press a soothing kiss somewhere onto his chest, and then another one against his cheek.

"I wanna have you cumming inside me," you whisper, and when you sit back up you quickly rid yourself of all your clothes, in the end helping him out of his pants as well. You crawl on top of him, your hands placed on his shoulders for support, and you let out a curse as you roll your hips against him, his tip rubbing against your folds. And once again he whines, pressing his eyes tightly shut and digging his nails into your hips.

"Just fuck me already..." he breathes, but you have other plans.

"Be good and I will, baby," you coo as you repeat your motion without letting him slip inside you. He begins to squirm underneath you, visibly fighting to suppress his orgasm, and you swear you could cum from the sight alone. "Fuck... you're so fucking hot like that, Hyuck..." you mutter through gritted teeth, his repeated whines sounding like music to your ears.

"C-can't... hold back..." And once again you stop the stimulation just as he's about to cum, and with a frustrated groan he throws his head back into the mattress, dragging his nails down your skin. You reach for his hands, and as you intertwine your fingers you pin them above his head, and you can't but coo over the desperate look he gives you, and the way his cheeks are reddening again.

"You gonna cum right when I take you in, aren't you?" you ask, smirking at him after pressing a kiss to his forehead. "So desperate for my pussy..." And he can't do anything but whine at your words, because you both know you're right, and him denying it would just make him look stupid. "Then cum for me, baby," you mutter against his lips as you seal them with yours, running your tongue along his mouth to deepen the kiss. You sink down on him, taking in his size with ease, and the second you start rolling your hips he releases inside you as he moans into your mouth. Heat rushes through your veins when you part and you sit up, letting go of his wrists and combing the fingers of one hand through his disheveled hair instead.

"Didn't think you really would cum the instant you're inside me," you mock him, earning yourself another whine from him. "And I bet you're also gonna be hard again in no time if I keep this up," you mumble, rolling your hips on top of him slowly. "Such a sucker for when I'm in control, huh?"

"Yeah..." he breathes out, and you unexpectedly feel your heart swell at his answer. Usually he'd be fighting back by now, trying to battle you for dominance or at least being bratty, but today you really just have him at your mercy unconditionally.

"Is it because I finally said that I love you?" you conclude, as if he had heard your thought process.

"Huh?" You run your fingers through his hair again, and then you lean in for another deep kiss.

"Do you like it that much when I play with you like this, or are you being good because you're scared I'll leave if you're not perfect for me?" Donghyuck stares at you for a while as you sit back up, the blush on his cheeks fading, and when he finally reaches out to you to press your body against his for a tight embrace, he answers,

"No, I trust you. And I kinda like it when you sometimes use me." A storm of emotions washing over you, you bring some distance between you and him slowly, and after mustering his genuine expression for a while, you reach for his hands once again.

"Don't touch me," you order as you put them back into their place above his head. "And don't cum until I tell you to. If you wanna be my little toy you gotta be good, alright?"

"Alright." He gulps, taking you in as you're sitting on top of him, starting to ride him with one hand sliding down your body, fingertips reaching your core to give yourself some extra stimulation. Eyes dripping with honey, he keeps his hands in place, and the more you can feel him growing inside you, the more you can also see him struggling to keep his composure.

"Fuck, you're so sexy," he mutters eventually, and you hum a praise to signal him to keep going. "Feels so good... wanna be good for you..."

"That's right..." you mutter, your eyelids fluttering shut as you bounce on top of him, rubbing circles onto your clit. You position yourself so that everytime you sink down on him his tip would graze that perfect spot inside you, and along with listening to his words and the way his voice starts shaking from the pleasure has you seeing stars soon enough.

"U-use me, please... wanna feel you cum on my cock..." he sputters, and you moan at his pleas.

"Doing so well for me, baby... shit, nobody could ever make me feel as good as you..." He whines desperately as you keep your pace slow, in hopes of bringing him as close as possible to the edge as you're racing towards your own high. "Hyuck..." you mutter his name, your voice trembling. "Cum with me." Another moan falling from his lips and you feel yourself shaken by your orgasm, clenching around him as he spills inside you a second time.

"Shit..." With a curse you collapse on top of him, finding him wrapping his arms around you in a comforting motion, and you add, "You were amazing." He nuzzles his face into the side of your head, lips brushing against your temple, and once you've caught your breath a bit you give him a proper kiss. "I'm sorry... for trying to push you away like th-" Donghyuck puts his index finger across your lips, shutting you up in the process, and with a soft smile he shakes his head.

"Stop apologizing," he says. "It's okay now. Let's focus on the future, and how we can build it together." His hand cupping your face and his thumb brushing against your cheek make your heart skip a beat, and you simply nod.

"You're right," you respond, and you lie back down on top of him, nestling into his chest. "If we just have each other, we can make it through anything."

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drowning-in-paragraphs · 22 days ago

Text

MIRROR

a/n: I had no idea if posting this was a good idea or not, but it's better to let it out than to leave it forgotten in the drafts. I hope you like it… I’ll leave this here, and I’ll retreat slowly…

jude bellingham x exgf!reader (trent alexander-arnold´s sister)

warnings: +18 content, p in v, protected sex, dom!Jude, dirty talk… kinda angsty, english is not my first language.

summary: Stuck at your brother's party, you struggle to get over Jude, your ex, who brings back old feelings every time you look at him. Despite your attempts to flirt with other guys, Trent and Jude always end up shooing them away, and your anger only grows. When Jude's gaze meets yours, the tension becomes electric. Before you know it, you both find yourself in the bathroom, where your chemistry ignites in a heated encounter that ignores all the rules you once swore you wouldn't break.

The music thumped through the walls of Trent’s house, vibrating through your chest as you hovered at the edge of the crowded living room. You hated these kinds of parties—too many people, too much noise—but it was Trent’s place, and everyone had shown up. Jude had shown up.

Of course he had.

It was one of your brother’s bests mates. He was laughing with a group of people just across the room, so close, yet worlds away.

You hated that seeing him still twisted your heart, hated that he looked so good, so unbothered, like you hadn’t been wrecked when he walked away from you months ago. He had told you that the distance was going to hurt you, but the one who ended up hurting you was him. You two hadn’t spoken since. Not properly, anyway. But you’d been here before—sharing space, always with Trent in between, always keeping it civil for the sake of everyone.

You tipped your glass back, willing the alcohol to dull the sharp edge of your emotions. Your eyes drifted toward the guy you’d been talking to earlier. Nothing serious. Just a distraction. He was cute, and more importantly, available. A brief smile played on your lips, and you moved to join him in the living room, leaving the bitter knot of emotion behind. For a moment, you let yourself enjoy the game of flirtation, the feeling of reclaiming control.

But you felt it before you saw him. Jude, his presence like a gravitational pull. As soon as the guy got too close, a hand on your arm, you saw him. Jude, out of the corner of your eye—his jaw tight, gaze burning.

"Oi, mate," Jude said, his voice low but firm as he stepped in, placing himself between you and the guy you wanted to shag, blocking him with a casual but unmistakable tension in his posture. "I think you're done here."

Your heart skipped a beat, anger flaring hot. Before you could protest, Trent appeared, a protective shadow beside Jude. Not again, please. Of course, Trent. Always watching, always hovering. You loved him a lot, but right now, you hated his guts. Hated that they were both treating you like something fragile, like you couldn’t make your own choices.

The worst thing was, it was the third time that night.

The guy glanced at Trent, then Jude, clearly uncomfortable. He wasn´t even looking at you anymore. "I didn’t mean any harm, man—"

"Yeah, you did. That´s my little sister" Trent cut in, his voice cold. "You're leaving now."

With one last quick glance at you, the guy mumbled something; probably an apology, and slinked off into the crowd. You stood there, furious, fists clenched at your sides. "What the hell, Jude? Trent?"

Jude’s eyes met yours, the weight of everything unsaid passing between you both. "Y/N, come on, don´t do this," he said quietly, almost too soft to hear over the loud music.

"Do what?" you snapped, taking a step closer. Your chest was tight, your words sharp. "Move on? Because I can’t just stand around waiting for you to stop playing games. You left me, Jude. Remember?"

His gaze dropped, pain flickering behind his eyes, and probably embarrasment due to your brother being there, jjjbut before he could say anything, Trent stepped in. “He’s right, you don’t need a guy,” he said, his voice more gentle than you expected. “You don´t know anything about him. I don't even know where he came from.”

You let out a frustrated breath, your mind reeling from the double wall of protection. You didn’t know whether to scream or cry. Jude stood there, silent, but you saw the tension in his shoulders, the conflict in his expression.

Without another word, you turned on your heel, pushing through the crowd, your skin burning with anger and unspoken feelings. The party roared on, oblivious to the storm that had just passed. Trent and Jude watched you go, and you didn’t have to look back to know they wouldn’t follow.

The rest of the party goes by relatively smoothly. Jude can feel you glaring at him the whole time, practically boring holes into his forehead with your flaming eyes. He winces when the song finishes and he watches you slide through the crowd, storming from the living room.

He shouldn't go to you. He knows he shouldn't. But he does anyway, standing up, avoiding Trent’s attention and hurrying after you. You see him coming so you pick up your pace, thumping up the stairs.

Jude follows faster, only a few steps behind you. You hesitate on the first landing, unsure which room will keep you safest from him.

Then you see the bathroom down the hall and make a break for it, rushing to get to safety with Jude hot on your heels driving you faster and faster.

You slip into the bathroom and go to slam the door shut, but a familiar hand grabs the wood and stops it. You let out an indignant squawk as he barges into the bathroom and shuts the door.

"Get out, Bellingham."

"No," He says firmly, staring down at you irritably. He can't help it, he has to explain himself.

"You know I'm right. That dude was not-

"Fuck off," you interrupt him, your voice raw with anger. "I was so calm talking to him until you both came over like a pair of lunatics."

Jude snaps, replying angrily, "Yes, because throwing yourself desperately at him is calmly talking. He was the third man in the night… "

"And yet, this was the third time that the two of you had no right to interfere. Especially you."

You’re so flippant, so nonchalant about the fact that you could've just been used or hurt by a random guy. Broken. If your brother and his constant attention on you during the night, maybe you could’ve committed a mistake.

Jude clenches his fists, only growing angrier when you say flatly.

"Ben and I should be in my room right now. What a bunch of cockblockers...”

"I bet Trent would love to hear that from her little sister. Sometimes you forget that not everybody has good intentions.”

His heart sinks when he recognizes a ruthless glint in your eye, your lips quirking when you replie, "He seemed pretty nice. It was the third guy in this party that left scared. Shouldn’t you just give me a list of the ones that you and Trent consider appropriate for me?.”

Jude sees red, his hands flying to his hair and tugging in frustration. He turns his back on you, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“I can’t stand to see it. You know that. You do it in front of my eyes.”

"You have no right to be hovering around me scaring the guys that approach me, Jude.”

That's it. What you’ve been waiting all night to happen. At a moment you thought that you weren’t going ti see it, but finally, Jude explodes, whirling around and smacking his hand down on the porcelain sink.

This makes you yelp as he yells, "Yes I do! I do have a right. Because I miss you, dammit!"

You stared at him, your lips parted in obvious shock. Your lips. Jude feels his gaze drawn to them like a magnet.

And then you’re both moving, crashing together before either can stop it.

Jude let's out a groan at the contact, his hands grabbing at your hips. Finally. Your breathing hitches when he bites down on your lower lip harshly. He's still mad, still fucking furious with you. You can tell from the way he's kissing you, hot and so needy it makes your knees shake.

You moan when his tongue eagerly slips into your mouth, rediscovering and reclaiming. There's no fighting for dominance—Jude has it already. You surrender to his control, opening up for it greedily. You want this, you need this.

Your hands fly to his shirt tugging and pulling at it until he finally gets the message and pulls away long enough to shrug the shirt off over his head. You grow dizzy at the sight of his muscular torso, your tongue flicking out to wet your swollen lips. It was obvious he'd been training extra hard. What wasn't obvious was the hours Jude spent working out to avoid thinking of you.

Jude growls low in the back of his throat at the sight of your pupils blown wide. He pulls you back to him, returning his wanting lips to yours. Your hands shake as they slide up over his shoulder blades and the back of his neck.

Jude smirks at the action, giving him plenty of time to slide his lips over his jaw and down to the hollow of your throat. He groans at the feel of you, the taste of your skin. You smell like lavender and the alcohol you´d been drinking. He wants to drown in it. Drown in you.

You gasp when his teeth tug at your skin. He bites and sucks and licks until there is a growing red mark on the side of your throat. Trent is going to kill you both. Your head lolls to the opposite side, weak to his sinful ministrations. Eager for more. Jude licks a stripe from your jaw to the skin under your ear. He pauses when something bumps his nose.

Earrings. The earrings. You still wore them. You still wore the ones that he gifted you.

His heart nearly explodes because maybe this meant it wasn't over, maybe he could undo the things that had been done. His hands fly back into action, untucking your blue t from your jeans and pulling back enough to tug it up over your head.

He lets out a curse when he realizes this whole time you hadn't been wearing a bra. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, waiting before doing anything. Maybe this is a mistake.

You must notice his hesitation, because your cool palms suddenly cup his face and bring his lips back to yours. It's your turn to bite his lip, your teeth playfully nipping at the soft swollen curve of his lower one. The kiss is still angry, hot, and so delicious it makes your toes curl.

No, this was definitely not a mistake.

Jude shakes his head when you try to drop to your knees. He knows what you think he wants. But you’re wrong.

"Turn around," He mumbles huskily, his erection painful in his jeans. He had to have you, he needed to have you.

"No," you scoff, trying to return your lips to his.

"I said turn around," he growls, not missing the way your thighs clench together and your eyes flash. You narrow your eyes but do as you’re told, yelping when Jude pins you front to the sink. Your eyes find yourself in the mirror and you’re taken aback by how needy you look, wanton and hungry. For him. You was always hungry for him.

Jude’s thoughts are disrupted when your ass arches into his cock, making him curse under his breath.

"Fuck, Y/N.”

You smile wickedly at him in the mirror, Jude growing cross at the action. He was in control. He needed to because you’d been slipping through his fingers like sand ever since he went to play to Madrid.

You see the change in him, his eyes darkening sinfully. You gasp and grip the sink tightly when he thrusts against you, your legs shaking from the spark of pleasure.

You were embarrassed, your cheeks turning red when you watch in the mirror as a moan flew from your lips. You try to turn around, but his hands keep you pinned there.

You moan again when you feel his fingers at your front, deftly unbuttoning your pants before slipping his hand inside.

Jude leans his forehead against your back, momentarily breathless from the feeling of your fingers dipping into your slick heat.

"Ju- Jude," you whisper, your eyes fluttering shut as he slowly thrusts one finger in and out of you. It's not enough, not when you knows his cock is just out of reach and can fill you the way you want—need to be.

His hand moves from you core, leaving you feeling empty and on fire with need.

Jude mutters huskily, "Open your eyes. I want you to watch. I want you to see what only I can do to you."

Goosebumps erupt across your skin at his words, your mouth running dry when your pants and panties join the pile of clothes on the floor. Your eyes flicker open, because while you want to tell him to piss off, that he isn't in charge of you any more….you want to see it too.

“You still on the-?” He asks, his hot breath tickling your skin.

“Yes,” you interrupt him immediately.

His belt buckle clinks when he tosses it to the floor. You watch with wide open eyes as he shoves his jeans down just enough to pull his pulsing member out. You run your tongue along your lower lip, your eyes stuck on the spot of the mirror where you can see Jude languidly stroking himself. You want to do it. You go to turn, desperate to hold him in her hand, but Jude reaches up and firmly holds you in place, saying rudely, "Don't."

Your head falls foreword with a gasp when you feel the tip of him teasing your entrance, just barely sliding in before retreating. It was torture. You try desperately to arch back into him, groaning when Jude tuts and stills your hips with his hand.

"Look," He says firmly. You raise your head and stare at Jude in the mirror, your lustfilled gazes locked onto each other as he slowly thrusts into you. Jude swears at the feeling of being inside of you again, moans loudly when you clench around him.

His hand comes around to cup your throat, keeping your head exactly in front of the mirror as he slowly pulls out and thrusts back in. Your knuckles turn white from your grip on the sink, unable to stop the uninhibited moan that tears from your throat. He was filling you so deliciously, so completely in this position. He's slow, but hard and rough in his movements. You cry out when he brushes against that explosive spot within you that has your back arching and your hands scrambling for something better to hold onto.

The contrast of his warm body against your back and the cold sink pressing into you front leaves you breathless.

"Please, Jude," you moan, your head slumping back to rest on his shoulder with your eyes closed. He connects your lips for a harsh, soul shattering kiss. He moans into your open mouth when you circle your hips back on his, trying to get more. The hand that was caressing your throat covers your own that you have pressed against the mirror, his fingers interlocking with yours as he complies with your wishes. He knows what you need.

He thrusts into you faster, harder, the hand not holding yours coming down to grab your hip. You can't make sense of the sounds coming from your own mouth because it's just so good. It's so good with Jude. Because it's the only time you willingly give someone control over your heart, your body.

That familiar warm sensation coils in your lower belly, growing bigger and more warm with each thrust.

"Jude, I-I..." You trail off with a groan, your hips bucking back into his wildly as you approach the peak of arousal, Jude growling huskily in your ear.

"Look, Y/N. Look in the mirror."

It takes all of your strength to open your eyes and lean your head forward, your gaze first finding where your and his hand are locked together, pressed up against the mirror.

Then you find yourself, again shocked by the arousal in your eyes and the poutyness of your swollen lips. You glance up at Jude in the reflection, nearly moaning at how sinful he looks. He commands the energy in the room, his jaw clenched tight as he too fights back his climax. You watch you both now, desperate for this to not end. It was too good.

When his fingers glide across your stomach and dip down to circle your clit your vision goes white, your mouth falling open as a voiceless cry tries to leave you. Jude swears, watching in the mirror as your eyes roll back and your throat bobs and you climax around him, your clenching walls finishing him off and making him groan loudly against your shoulder.

He slumps against you, his arm holding you up as your legs shake against his. He presses a few sloppy kisses to the skin of your back, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries to regain his breath.

That is when you realize, what have you done. How you have fallen again in this loop. Or how you’d let yourself be touched by the man that left you not so long ago shattered.

"Y/N," He whispers hoarsely, taking in your pink cheeks and cloudy gaze. Lust turns to fear as you quickly separate your hands and bodies, scrambling to pull on your clothes.

Jude feels fear tighten in his chest too, because you’re pulling away faster than he can reel you in.

"Y/N, wait-

The bathroom door slams shut as you flee, barely dressed before disappearing. Your entire body is hot as you can still feel his touch and shame washes over you. You run to one of the bedrooms, hoping Trent doesn’t find you. But most of all, hoping Jude will get out of your mind once and for all.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham comfort #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham angst #jude bellingham one shot #jb5 #hey jude #jude victor willliam bellingham #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x reader #judeswifey #rmcf

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kaisacobra · 1 year ago

Text

A Little Bird Told Me - Tara Carpenter

Summary: a badly interpreted tweet makes Tara get jealous

Warnings: Fem! Reader, a bit of angst, mentions of yellowjackets characters (Lottie Matthews and Lottienat), curse words

Word Count: 5.3k

"I propose a movie night at Tara's house!"

That catches the attention of the younger Carpenter, making her turn away from the direction of the Blackmore University library to answer Mindy with a teasing smile. "And who said I want you all at my house tonight?"

"You don't have a choice!" Mindy retorts, tossing a fallen leaf from the table they were sitting on towards Tara. "And you definitely want a certain someone to come to your house tonight."

"Yeah, you've been staring at the library door since she went in there." Anika joins her girlfriend in the argument, causing Tara's face to turn even redder.

You had been at the table earlier with Tara, Mindy, Anika, Chad, and Ethan, but a message had arrived on your phone and you hastily headed towards the library, letting your friends know you wouldn't take long. Since you left, the freckled girl couldn't help but look expectantly in that direction, missing your funny comments and calming presence.

It's true that Tara might have had a little crush on you since the beginning of this year, when you patiently and non-judgmentally listened to a long rant that Carpenter had been holding back about everything that had happened in Woodsboro. You had been there too, but you let her say everything she wanted and didn't even mention your own traumas, being more concerned with holding Tara in your arms as she shed the necessary tears. Since that night, she couldn't help but see you in a different light.

"Well, if everyone's up for it, I don't think Sam will mind having you all over." She tried to smoothly change the subject.

"I'm in!" Ethan was the first to confirm, followed by the other three instantly. Tara took the opportunity to take her phone out of her pocket and message Sam, informing her about the plans for later.

"Wow, who's that?" She heard Chad say, but didn't lift her head from her phone, thinking he was talking about some random girl he found attractive. However, Mindy's next sentence made Tara snap her head up so fast she almost got whiplash.

"Ooh, Y/n is in good company!" Mindy teased, and Tara followed her gaze until she spotted you, coming out of the library laughing alongside a girl who was clearly beautiful even from a distance. The dark wavy hair framed her face perfectly, and she was tall like a model. There was no reason for it, but the Carpenter girl suddenly felt intimidated by this new mystery girl.

You continued walking with her towards your friends, and as you got close enough to be seen clearly but not close enough to overhear the conversation, Chad blurted out a comment. "Damn, is that Charlotte Matthews?"

"Fuck! I think it is!" Anika added with excitement. Seeing the huge question mark on Tara's face, she hurriedly explained. "Lottie is on the college women's soccer team, and they're basically unbeatable. She's, like, super popular."

Tara crossed her arms and looked in your direction again, a bitter taste forming in her mouth as she noticed you were still laughing at something the girl had told you. What could possibly be so amusing?

"I didn't know Y/n had rizz like that." Mindy added with a thoughtful expression. "Good for her."

Before Tara could say that there was nothing to indicate you had any interest in Lottie (something she was also trying to convince herself of), you finally reached the table, greeting your friends with a smile. "Hey, guys."

"Hey." Lottie spoke after you, a bit shyly. How dare she be beautiful, tall as a goddess, and yet still have an adorable charm?

Everyone responded, and Tara found herself forcing a smile to hide her conflicting feelings. She sought your gaze, and some of the knot in her stomach unraveled as you locked eyes. "We're having a movie night at my place tonight, do you want to come?"

Your expression twisted into one of sorrowful regret. "Can't, sorry. I'll be tutoring Lottie in organic chemistry, it'll probably take the whole day." Tara realized you were still looking at her, trying to decipher if she was upset about your absence. Ever since movie nights had become a kind of tradition within the group, you had never missed one. This would be the first time you wouldn't be there, and Tara could tell you felt bad about it.

"Don't worry about it!" Mindy waved her hands nonchalantly, then turned to Tara with a teasing smile. "We get that you have bigger priorities, right, Tara?"

You still looked at the girl like a lost puppy, eagerly awaiting her reaction. Tara swallowed a sigh and forced herself to maintain a fake smile to calm her nerves. "Right. It was about time you put that brain of yours to some use."

With the girl's joke, you laughed, visibly becoming less tense as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. "Well, I'll see you guys tomorrow. Bye, everyone!" You waved goodbye to everyone at the table, Lottie doing the same out of politeness, and Tara watched bitterly as the two of you walked away side by side, probably heading towards the player's dorm.

"I bet 5 bucks Y/n will show up tomorrow with a massive hickey on her neck." Chad jokes, and the group laughs in response. Tara, being the only one not finding the joke funny, lets out an irritated huff and stands up, slinging her own bag over her shoulder. "Let's get going already, I want to pick the movie."

She starts walking slowly, ignoring Ethan's protests that it's his turn to choose.

The truth was: Tara just didn't want them to see how upset she was about your absence.

I want to stab you to death and play around with your blood.

Tara grimaced as she heard the line spoken by Christian Bale through the television, and she could see from the corner of her eye that everyone had shifted uncomfortably, relating the line to the events of the previous year.

Ethan had chosen American Psycho as the movie for the night, and Tara didn't want to protest since you weren't there for her to gauge your reactions to the film she chose. She sighed and glanced at her phone's lock screen again, hoping for a message from you saying that the tutoring had ended early and you were on your way. It never came.

She ran her hands over her face in frustration. The thought of you alone with an annoyingly beautiful girl in her room was enough to make a vein in her temple throb. What if Chad was right? What if tomorrow you showed up with a hickey on your neck, holding hands with Lottie Matthews, strolling across campus like the most beloved couple in America?

Ugh. She pressed her eyes shut to try to banish the image from her mind. When did she let her feelings for you become so... intense? It was almost humiliating to think that Tara Carpenter had gone from the girl who spent most of her time alone to the girl who couldn't stand a few hours without you.

Feeling a strange surge of pride, Tara shook her head and grabbed her phone, opening the front camera. She was having fun and definitely not sinking into miserable thoughts, right? So she had to post a picture to prove that she was perfectly happy! Of course, that had nothing to do with you, and she certainly didn't care if you saw the photo while you were busy doing who knows what with one of the most desired girls at Blackmore.

"Hey, guys! Look here real quick!" Tara alerted, and everyone shuffled to get into the selfie. Sam sat beside her with a restrained smile, Anika and Mindy were wrapped in each other's arms a bit behind the Carpenters, and Chad had an arm around Ethan's shoulders, who responded by making a peace sign with his fingers behind his roommate's head.

Tara snapped the picture and examined the result, mindlessly promising to send it to Anika when the girl asked. The younger Carpenter discreetly zoomed in on her own face, deciding if she looked pretty enough to post it or not. Satisfied, she opened Instagram and uploaded the photo as a story, adding a caption underneath. Great night with these weirdos.

After that, Tara locked her phone, trying to hypnotize herself into believing she wasn't eagerly waiting for your comment. She stared fixedly at the TV, feigning deep interest in Patrick Bateman's actions, as if she hadn't lost focus on the movie within the first twenty minutes.

5 minutes later, her phone buzzed with a notification. You had replied to her story.

Tara almost giggled and kicked her feet because of how quickly you messaged. That had to be a good sign. You wouldn't have replied so fast if you were busy doing something... or someone else. Right?

"Don't have too much fun without me." Your message read. The younger Carpenter bit her lower lip to contain a wider smile on her face.

"Never." She typed, but thought better of it and deleted it, typing out a different response. "I can't promise anything."

You read the message but didn't reply any further, probably returning to your duties as a tutor. Tara didn't complain, as she was already more than satisfied with the quick attention you gave her.

She comfortably leaned back on the couch, where she was seated between Sam and Mindy, the latter gently stroking Anika's hair, who was sitting beside her. The two boys were on the floor engaged in a heated discussion about whether Ethan was an incel or not based on his choice of movie.

Feeling more relaxed, Tara reached over to snatch some popcorn from Sam, earning a light smack and narrowed eyes in retaliation. She offered an innocent smile to her older sister, who simply rolled her eyes and placed the popcorn bucket between them, succumbing to the silent plea.

Tara could almost have forgotten she had been upset. Almost. But then her phone vibrated with another notification.

It was from your Twitter, and from the notification bar, apparently, you had tweeted "hjsuzgabasi."

She frowned, trying to figure out what the hell you were trying to say. Unlocking her phone, Tara quickly opened the Twitter app, searching for your profile so she could reply with something like "???" on your latest post.

But as she was about to comment on your tweet, she noticed the other two you had just posted.

She's soooooo prettyyy😭😭 just one chance please

Her brown eyes omg im so gay

Tara's mood instantly turned sour. Had you just tweeted about Lottie Matthews? I mean, you were with her now, and Tara vividly remembered the girl's big, enchanting brown eyes. Of course, you were tweeting about the gay panic you were probably experiencing in real life.

She sighed and stood up from the couch. "I'm gonna grab some water." Tara mumbled to justify her departure and headed to the kitchen, still holding her phone. Suddenly, the fun atmosphere she had felt for a few minutes had given way to a nauseating feeling churning in her stomach.

She turned the phone over before grabbing a glass, but her eyebrows furrowed when she realized your tweets were no longer there. Holding the device with both hands now, she refreshed your profile again, but the posts had vanished as if they were a mirage. You had probably deleted them to prevent Lottie from seeing, or something like that.

Either way, the tweets had been there, and Tara had firsthand seen your super gay panic as you probably looked at the soccer player. She hated the thought that you might be blushing right now over something Lottie said, giving one of your cute shy smiles as she ran her hand through your hair, eventually trailing down to your neck and pulling you in for...

No! Tara was already torturing herself enough without imagining what you two might be doing. She didn't need another reason to ruin her own night.

So, after downing a glass of water and trying to contain the terrible feeling spreading through her system, Tara returned to the living room dragging her feet, doing her best to force herself to enjoy the rest of the night with her friends.

She definitely wasn't caring about your stupid new crush.

"Ugh! If you point out one more mistake of mine, I'm going to bite your arm!" Lottie complained dramatically, leaning back in her swivel chair and turning towards you, avoiding looking at the open notebook with unsolved questions.

You chuckled at her antics. "Let's not resort to cannibalism, okay? I'd rather stay whole if I still have to finish teaching you things."

"Can we at least take a break? My brain is killing me." She didn't even wait for your response and immediately got up, heading towards her own bed and lying down without ceremony. You just shook your head with a smile and stretched your arms, still sitting in the chair. Lottie was right, after all. You both deserved a bit of rest.

Taking advantage of the break, you took your phone out of your bag pocket and quickly checked your notifications, stopping at one that made your heart race and a small smile start to form on your face.

Opening the app, you viewed Tara's story. A photo of everyone in the group (minus Quinn, who was probably at one of her flings' places) gathered in the Carpenter's living room, with happy expressions that must have come from the fun of the movie nights.

You thought for a few seconds before sending a playful response. "Don't have too much fun without me." There was a bit of truth hidden behind those words, considering you felt bad for missing out on this time with your friends, but mostly for not being there with Tara.

It had been a few years since you started developing feelings for the younger Carpenter. You had met in school in Woodsboro and grew closer when you were assigned a literature project together. Since then, Tara introduced you to her other friends and you became a significant part of her life.

She made you feel heard and appreciated, so it didn't take long for you to fall in love and get lost in the sparkle of those brown eyes. But you weren't stupid. Everyone could see that Tara Carpenter only had eyes for Amber Freeman. So you decided to take a step back and act as a good friend to Tara, painfully listening when she talked about her immense love for her girlfriend.

You even thought about moving on from her, but then the "Woodsboro Massacre" happened, you knew you couldn't leave the girl alone during such a vulnerable time. So, despite your head warning you that you would get hurt, you followed your heart and never left Tara's side for a second.

"I can't promise anything." She replied after a while, and you smiled at the familiarity of her classic sense of humor in the message. You exited the chat shortly after, returning to Tara's stories to look at the posted photo once again.

You zoomed in on the familiar face, much like a high school girl stalking her crush, and involuntarily broke into a silly smile. Tara's dark hair was loose, waves cascading over her shoulder. She had a slight smile on her face that allowed you to catch a glimpse of her adorable dimple. The photo quality was good but not enough for you to see the freckles you knew were there, on her cheeks and nose, that you wished you could someday get close enough to count with the tips of your fingers.

With your heart pounding in your chest, you decided you were feeling too many emotions to keep them to yourself. So, like a good contemporary girl, you searched for the Twitter app on your phone and prepared for a gay vent of at least 100 characters.

"Why are you so red?" Lottie asks from her spot on the bed, startling you as you had completely forgotten about her presence.

Wide-eyed, you look at her and try to come up with something. "N-nothing. Must be your imagination."

Clearly, the excuse doesn't work with Lottie, because she breaks into a teasing smile and raises her eyebrows as if she knows all your secrets. "What was it? Did Tara send you a message?"

"Shut up." You release a weak grumble and quickly turn back to your phone, tweeting the first thing that came to your mind upon seeing your best friend's earlier photo. hjsuzgabasi. Poetic.

"Come on! Don't you think it's about time you confess your feelings?" Lottie sits up straight on the bed to better analyze you. "I mean, you talk about her all the time in class. Tara this, Tara that, Tara, Tara, Tara."

"I don't want to ruin our friendship, okay?" You turn to the soccer player before sending out more tweets containing your embarrassing thoughts about the younger Carpenter. She's soooooo prettyyy😭😭 just one chance please. Her brown eyes omg im so gay

Lottie sighs and gets up, walking over to you and placing her hands affectionately on your shoulders. "Look, I might not know her as well, but if she's as good a friend as you describe, she wouldn't stop talking to you over something you can't even control."

"I know. Maybe I'll tell her someday." You speak in a hushed voice but quickly lift your head to look up at the tall girl with a playful expression. "You know, you should take your own advice and just admit you have a crush on a certain Natalie Scatorccio from your soccer team."

Her eyes widen, and she blushes deeply, pushing your swivel chair back slightly as she returns to the bed, not before flipping you off. "Shut up, you fucking loser."

You laugh at that, and Lottie joins in right after. Maybe you two weren't as close as you were with the others in your group (especially Tara), but the time you spent sitting next to each other during those tedious organic chemistry classes was enough to cultivate a great friendship.

Still chuckling a bit, you returned your gaze to your phone, and... your heart dropped into your stomach. Oh no.

"Shit, shit, shit!" You exclaim, rushing to delete the posts as quickly as possible. How could you have gotten so distracted?!

"What's wrong?" Lottie asks, alarmed, watching with a concerned expression as you hurriedly tap on your phone, looking on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

"I tweeted from my main account!" You reply with a mix of embarrassment and nervousness. "I didn't realize I wasn't on my private one, and I tweeted my gay panic about Tara's photo in a place where she can see! What do I do?!"

The taller girl walks over to you again, placing a hand in the space between your shoulders and encouraging you to take a deep breath along with her. "Calm down. Is there anything in the tweet that makes it clear it was about her?"

"Nothing specific... Damn it." You close your eyes and rest your head on the desk for a few seconds. What if Tara had seen the post, and now she's telling Sam how pathetic she thinks you are? Even worse, tonight was movie night! What if Tara had shown the tweets to everyone, and now they were all collectively laughing at you?

You pick up your phone again and open your messages, searching for Anika's contact. She and Mindy (who never let anything slide) were the only ones who had caught on to your crush on Tara and had already tried to advise you to confess your feelings, though they were still keeping the information a secret at your request. Between the two, the least likely to laugh at your current situation was the Kayoko, so you decided to beg her for help.

You

Nik, pls tell me Tara isn't on her phone rn

I may have accidentally posted my gay panic at her photo on twt…

Fashion Icon⭐ (Anika)

WHAT??????????

OMG, you guys are finally gonna date😭

Wait, she's in the kitchen, let me take a look

Oh.

You

Oh????

Wdym oh????

Fashion Icon⭐ (Anika)

She's looking weirdly at her phone

She seems upset

You

Oh.

Fashion Icon⭐ (Anika)

It's probably not with you

You

Forget it

Thx for the help

Lottie still gives you some awkward pats on your back as you turn to her fully, and you know she read everything over your shoulder when she offers a small supportive smile to try and make you feel better. You let Lottie embrace you as you close your eyes, feeling desperate tears threatening to fall.

"She doesn't like me back, does she?" You whisper into the girl's shoulder, and she squeezes you a little tighter in her hold.

"You don't know that. Try talking to her tomorrow, okay?"

Unwilling to utter any sound, you simply nod in agreement, knowing that even though the problem is only for tomorrow, you'll already feel the effects of it today.

It wasn't a good day for Tara.

The petite girl had tossed and turned in bed all night, unable to close her eyes with some inexplicable anger flooding her body. Every time she allowed herself to relax for a few seconds, the image of you being much closer to Charlotte Matthews than you should have been appeared in her mind like a bitter reminder.

And Tara could be very proud and stubborn, but she wasn't stupid. She knew perfectly well that her sour mood was out of pure jealousy and anger at herself for letting you slip through her fingers. But even though the negative feelings had their origin within herself, Tara still wasn't the best at dealing with her emotions and she knew she was making her bad mood everyone else's problem.

Unfortunately, you didn't know this when you approached her in the hallways of Blackmore University, with an apprehensive expression on your face and your heart in your hand. If Tara noticed your increasingly close presence, she didn't move a muscle to show it, but she moved plenty to walk faster, trying to cross your path without making contact.

"Hey, Tara." You stop her with a hand on her shoulder. This wasn't the best place to talk, considering you had just left a class and your classmates were spilling out into the hallway, chatting and filling the space. "Can we talk about what happened yesterday?"

"You mean the tweets?" She asks with an indifferent tone, but you knew the girl well enough to recognize the clenched jaw that hinted at a touch of irritation. "You don't need to say anything. Seriously."

"But..."

"Look, really." Tara cuts you off, crossing her arms and avoiding your gaze. You could feel the growing aggression in her voice. "I'm not in the mood to hear about it right now."

You feel your heart crack a little. It seemed like Tara didn't even want to hear you say that you liked her. Was it some sort of denial? Like if she doesn't hear the words coming out of your mouth, can she pretend your feelings don't exist?

Either way, before you could retort, a familiar voice calls your name in the hallway, and you turn to see Lottie Matthews waving in your direction. But she stops and takes on a surprised expression upon noticing Tara with you. You hear a scoff, and when you turn back, Tara is already walking away, ending the conversation without waiting for your input.

A few seconds later, Lottie arrives by your side in the hallway, looking at you cautiously. "So..."

Feeling hurt not only by Tara's apparent rejection but also by how she seemed so disturbed by the idea of your feelings for her, you simply shake your head in denial, letting tears run down your face to ease the pain you felt on the inside.

You felt Lottie pull you by the wrist towards the bathroom, probably to give you more privacy in that emotional moment, and you were thankful, but you couldn't express anything other than anguish. It felt like your whole world was spinning and falling apart in pieces.

Fuck that shitty bird social media.

"What's wrong with you?!"

Tara and everyone else at the table (Chad, Mindy, and Ethan) looked up in alarm as Anika's impactful entrance echoed in. She dropped her bag onto the wooden surface with a thud and was glaring specifically at Tara with frustration.

"Baby, what-" Mindy tried to speak up, but Anika raised her index finger, and her girlfriend quickly fell silent with a final okay, adhering to the "happy wife, happy life" motto.

Everyone stared at the scene apprehensively, as it was the first time they had seen Anika so upset about something. Even Tara, who had an idea of the reason for her behavior, was just staring in a state of shock and fear.

"Listen, whatever you've done to Y/n, you need to fix it now." Anika emphasized, tapping the tip of her index finger on the table for added effect. "She's been crying her eyes out in the H building's bathroom for the past 40 minutes because of some shit you pulled."

"I… I didn't mean to…" Tara stammered and closed her eyes tightly, feeling a lump in her throat forming from guilt. Once again, Tara remembered one of Sam's warnings about seeking help to better manage her emotions and quietly cursed herself. The last thing she wanted was to hurt you, but she was like a ticking time bomb of negative feelings that unfortunately exploded onto you, who didn't deserve to suffer because of Tara's actions.

"I don't care about what you wanted or didn't want." Anika speaks sternly, not breaking eye contact with Tara. "All I know is that there's a girl who would give the world to you, crying because of your unnecessary rudeness, and you need to fix that."

Tara jumps up and gathers her things quickly, nodding in affirmation and avoiding the inquisitive gazes of their friends. "Yeah… I will. I'll apologize." The others watch her hurry off towards building H, and Anika slumps with exhaustion into the seat next to Mindy, which Tara had previously occupied.

"Do you think they'll finally confess to each other?" Mindy asks, gently petting her girlfriend's head, which now rests on her shoulder.

"They better. I can't go through this again." Anika replies, closing her eyes to enjoy the touch of her girlfriend's fingers through her hair. On the other side of the table, the guys still have wide eyes, processing what they witnessed.

"Uh… You're not gonna explain anything to us, are you?" Ethan questions, gesturing to himself and Chad with quick motions.

The two girls exchange a quick look and respond in unison. "No."

Tara's hands are trembling as she reaches the bathroom door.

Nausea churns within her due to the nervousness of the conversation she's about to have. She knows she'll need to explain the reason for being so rude, which means she'll have to tell you about her feelings, even though she anticipates you'll reject her since you already have someone else in your heart.

Would you at least accept remaining friends? Or had she ruined that option by preventing you from discussing your compromising tweets about Lottie earlier?

With one final sigh and a shake of her head, Tara decides to stop stalling and takes the first step to enter the restroom and get it over with.

The first thing she notices is your back turned towards her. Your silhouette makes it clear you have your arms crossed, leaning your hips against the sink so your weight rests on your left side. The second thing she sees is Charlotte Matthews standing in front of you, using a tissue to wipe your face, which Tara imagines is damp from tears.

Before she could do anything, the soccer player noticed her presence and her mouth formed an "O" shape. Looking between you and Tara, she quickly mumbles, "I'll leave you alone," and exits the restroom, causing you to glance back in questioning.

Tara feels the air being sucked out of her lungs as your eyes meet. Your eyes and nose are red, and she can still see traces of the glistening trail down your cheeks. She takes a step forward and places her hand on the sink, noticing that you're still keeping your arms crossed and prefer looking at your own sneakers rather than at her.

With a sigh, she's the first to break the silence. "I'm sorry about earlier today. I didn't want to hurt you."

"It's okay," you reply, shifting your right foot back and forth. Tara knows that's one of your signs of nervousness. "You can't control how you feel, right?"

The petite girl looks at you in shock, but you don't seem to notice, still looking down. Had she got it right? Did you know about her feelings? "That's true. Maybe I'm being selfish, but... I didn't want to ruin our friendship over this. Is that okay with you?"

You finally look at Tara. Your eyes widen, and you quickly nod. "Of course! I didn't want to lose you just because we're not on the same page. These things happen, right?"

Tara feels her heart ache at the sentence. Was that your way of gently rejecting her? "Yeah. These things happen."

A few seconds of uncomfortable silence pass, but neither of you move, fearing that any wrong move would spoil the small progress you've just made. Again, Tara, with her impatience, initiates the conversation, hating the absence of any sound. "I hope she makes you happy."

She watches as your expression changes to one of confusion, eyebrows furrowed and head tilted to the side. "What?"

"Lottie." Tara points back to where the girl had left a few minutes ago. "She seems... nice. You have good taste."

"You think I like Lottie?!" She's startled by the outraged tone of your question. You take a step closer, as if wanting to hear more clearly what she was saying.

"Wasn't it about her? The tweet you made?" Tara asks, more bewildered than you. "Pretty girl, brown eyes..."

"It was about you!" You burst out, unable to contain the information any longer. "I'm in love with you! The whole time, I was talking about you, Tara! I saw you in yesterday's photo, and you looked so beautiful that... hmph!"

You are silenced by Tara's soft lips meeting yours, initiating a passionate and much-needed kiss from both sides. Your hands descend to her waist as her hands pull you by the nape of your neck, trying to bring you impossibly closer.

Without breaking the kiss, you move clumsily until Tara's back is fully supported against the sink, your arms holding her in place by the hips. She sighs as you part for a breath, and a genuine smile forms on your face.

"Wow." You laugh and pull back slightly, just enough so that your noses are no longer touching. "I wasn't expecting that."

"I thought you knew I liked you." Tara laughs along, playing with the hair at the nape of your neck to try to ease the redness in her own face.

You gently stroke her hip with your thumb. "Is that what you were talking about earlier? I thought you were rejecting me."

"I thought you were rejecting me." She playfully nudges your chest with medium force. Tara's smile becomes a bit more subdued as she moves her hands from your nape to hold your face. "I'm sorry for being rude earlier and hurting you."

You shake your head. "It's okay. Now I know you were just jealous." Your tone is teasing, and you raise your eyebrows twice just to mess with Tara a little more.

"Shut up." She rolls her eyes, smiles, and pulls you by the wrist until you're out of the bathroom. "I'll make it up to you with some ice cream, what do you think?"

"If you throw in a few kisses in the middle of that offer, I might consider."

#scream #scream 5 #scream vi #scream 6 #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #scream x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter imagine #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x you

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yncoreee · 3 months ago

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YOU’RE MY FIRST PRIORITY. Minji x reader

Synopsis— After being the cause behind the end of your trip with your friends, Minji couldn’t help but feel nothing but guilt. Being the loving girlfriend you are you had to reassure her that she was your first priority.

Warnings .ᐟ Requested, established relationship, pet names, sick minji, minji being guilty, crying, wrote this in 2nd person POV 💀, Female reader, FLUFF

꩜ — ⵌWord count 944

Before you could take a step into the bus that one of your friends already owned, you felt a vibration in your pocket followed by your ringtone.

Without wasting much time you pulled your phone out of your pocket and furrowed your eyebrows at the contact name.

You picked it up and held the phone close to your ear. “Hey bae what’s up?” You asked in a concerned tone at why she was suddenly calling you when it wasn’t even up to 10 mins after you left home.

She coughed loudly. “Sorry, ummm y/n… I’m sorry for disturbing you but can you come back home? I’m feeling a bit sick” she expressed.

You felt like she was lying at first but when you heard the tone of her voice and how tiredly she talked you couldn’t help but feel even more worried.

“I’m truly sorry for disturbing you, there’s no one to take care of me…and I can’t even move an inch” she added sluggishly.

“Alright, I’ll be there in five minutes”

As you hastily ended the call, you glanced over at your friends who looked at you with worried expressions.

“Y/n is everything okay?” One of them asked.

“Not really, something important pulled up but don’t worry you guys can go without me, I’ll probably go another time” you responded with a faint smile leaving the venue.

You made your way towards both you and Minji's shared apartment, opening the door with a spare key. You noticed minji curled up on the couch looking under the weather.

Kneeling in front of her you lightly traced your fingertips over her sweaty-damp bangs. And rested the back of your hand on her forehead quickly retreating it. “Oh My you’re burning”

You gently held the back of her head helping her to sit up and lean back against the pillow handing her a box of tissue as she gave it a little blow.

“Hold on, let me cook something for you” you stood up from your kneels making your way over to the kitchen.

In less than 15 minutes you had whipped up some Samgyetang for her.

You placed the steaming hot bowl in front of her sitting right beside her. You scooped up a big spoon of the steaming hot soup and motioned it towards Minji's mouth.

She slightly parted her lips as you slipped the spoon into her mouth. She gulped down letting the hot liquid flow down her throat.

You fed her until she was full, letting her lay her head on your laps as you ran your fingers through her hair.

She slept so peacefully but she didn’t know what was coming for her next.

“Why can’t you just take the medicine? Do you want to be sick forever?” You questioned motioning the medicine towards minji’s mouth.

“Nuh uh, it’s bitter and disgusting” Minji huffed, swaying her head away from the liquid. Burying her face into a pillow nearby.

“Babe come on, stop being so difficult, the taste is going to fade away before you even realize it. Now open your mouth and take this medicine” you spoke in a soft and gentle tone.

“Minji….”

“No”

“Please….” You pleaded.

She sighed. “Fine, I’ll take it” she replied with a sulky expression.

She parted her lips as you slipped the bitter liquid into her mouth. Gulping it down her throat, she looked at you with a disgusted look as she gagged dramatically causing you to playfully roll your eyes. “See it wasn’t so bad now was it” you teased.

“Yes it was”

You chuckled lightly but stopped when you heard a ding coming from your phone.

Your friends had sent you a picture of them enjoying their trip with the caption. “What you’re missing out on😜”.

You slightly pouted that you couldn’t be there right now, enjoying with them.

Minji noticed your sudden change in demeanor. Peeking over your shoulders to see what made you pout a bit.

She felt so guilty for being the cause of it.

Tears began to fall from her eyes down to her cheeks as she looked down at the floor.

You responded to your friends shutting your phone and looking back at minji. “So should we watch a—“ you cut yourself off as you noticed her looking down.

“Min is everything alright?” You asked softly, placing your finger below her chin, raising her head up. You felt more worried as you saw a tear stain on her cheek.

Minji sniffed and immediately wiped away her tears. “Yes but it’s just…. Your friends are probably having fun while your here and I’m the cause of it” she sniffed in between her words.

“No minji—“

“It’s all my fault and I’m a suck a burden, I’m sorry” she said,not breaking eye contact with the floor.

“Minji you’re not a burden, you were sick and there was no one to take care of you and you did the right thing. It was good I took care of you before the sickness would’ve gotten worse, and I can hang out anytime with my friends” you spoke, confronting her as you placed a soft kiss on her lips.

“Really? I’m not a burden?” She looked up at you and then laid her head on your lap.

“No you’re not, you’re my first priority”

“The hangout was at the beach and I can definitely go to the beach any time, I can even go with you” you added.

“You’re so sweet, I’m so lucky to have you as my girlfriend” she mumbled but it was audible.

You giggled lightly and planted another soft kiss on her forehead. “So am I”

#fluff #k-pop fluff #kpop x reader #newjeans #x female reader #newjeans x you #newjeans x reader #newjeans fluff #newjeans minji #newjeans minji fluff #newjeans minji x reader #minji x you #minji x reader fluff #minji fluff #minji x reader #kim minji #nari writes— ི᭨ᩧྀㅤ

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shapard · 8 months ago

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A Love tail that started with Jealousy ⛓️

Lucifer x GN!reader

A/n: Chapter 9 of "Feather of Fate" takes longer than I expected. So, I got a one shot/Scenario for my pookies who are waiting❤️

You fell in love with your dear friend Lucifer. Distancing yourself from him is hard but you had to do what you have to do.

Spoiler: It didn't work out the way you planned.

You sat at the reception in the lobby of the Hazbin Hotel.

You are the receptionist of this lovely place; well, you were forced by Alastor. The one who owns your very own Soul.

The time you spent in the Hotel was way better than you had expected.

The sinners were nice, beside Alastor, and Charlie is a cutie pie. And you don’t even want to start with Lucifer.

He was so pure and didn’t judge you in any way. He supported you more than anyone else did. Here in hell and on earth.

He was always there.

A real friend.

But Nothing good ever lasts long.

After weeks in this friendship, you found yourself stuck in this messed up feeling called love.

And it scared you.

He is the Royalty of Royalty.

He is the king of Hell.

It didn’t change the fact that you loved him with every part of your being.

You have to admit yourself that this feeling brings danger, danger to you but also to Lucifer.

Alastor could use you against him.

So, you distanced yourself from him.

It was bitter, a taste that never left your tongue. But you must protect yourself.

He only sees you as a friend. Nothing more.

As much as it hurts, at least you know before trying too hard. It was a fight between mind and heart.

You ached for him.

You wanted him to feel the same. But that’ll never happen.

You distracted yourself by going out to the club with Angel. Getting drunk to numb the growing ache and pain that swelled in your chest.

But even that didn’t last long, you longed for him. Just seeing him reminds you of your misery.

Love really is the greatest curse of them all.

Despite the fact that you two will never be and never will date around. Your heart still bloomed for Lucifer.

You are surprised as you see Lucifer in front of you.

you gulped hard and anxiety and love pumped up in your heart, down to your stomach. You felt sick.

“I Apologize that I have to disturb you from your work. But I couldn’t contact you for couple weeks. I’m worried.” He fiddled with his hat that rested in his hands, his pure golden hair was flowing with grace in the air.

Fuck You internally cursed.

“I-“ You stopped talking, your words caught up in your throat. It felt like a knot that gets larger with every breath you took.

To your savior the front door was slammed open, and a sinner entered the lobby.

His eyes searched through the room till they landed on you.

It is Mark, one of your recent dates.

Not him.

You broke contact with him. Mark was way too obsessed and wouldn’t stop touching you at places that are a no no.

He called out your name and tried jumping on you but Lucifer stepped between. Shielding whatever that guy wanted to do with you.

Mark fell with full force on the ground.

“Woahh. Let’s calm down, yeah?” Lucifer butted in and pushed Mark gently with his cane.

Lucifer was disgusted but also angry.

Mark jumped up pushing Lucifers cane off him in the process.

“I’m here to talk with them, not with you.” He growled at Lucifer and walked towards you in extreme speed.

Mark called out your name in a sang tone.

You stood up and wanted to flee from his embrace, but it was too late.

He cuddled you with much force on to him, his hand locked tightly on your ass.

You attempted to push him away from you, but his hold was way to strong.

Lucifer grabbed Mark on his collar throwing him off of you.

His horns were full on display and a bounce light was highlighting them in a beautiful way. His tail flicked from side to side, and he used his demonic voice to show off his dominance.

“Get the fuck off of them!” Lucifer was not playing.

The fact that a mere peasant jumped on you and touched you without consent was already a reason to kill him.

Mark disobeyed his own king and touched his Love was his death sentence.

Scared Mark ran away like a lost puppy but called you a Slut in the meantime.

So, Lucifer killed him.

Throwing Mark body in a dumpster near the Hotel.

With two seconds he was standing in front of you bowing in 90° and held your hand softly in his.

The blood from the sinner was still fresh on his Hands but you two didn’t care.

He kissed your hand softly and looked you deeply in your eyes with his snake like red Iris.

He knew that you were avoiding him the couple of weeks.

But now he was blinded with jealousy to even care about it.

“You’re mine. got it?”

💫

@i-have-no-life-charlie @sirenetheblogger

#shapard #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #gn reader #no use of y/n #one shot #lucifer scenario #jealous Lucifer

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tastesousweet · 7 months ago

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⭒ the girl with the tattoo (x) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4 p5 p6 p7 p8 p9

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : after three resentful weeks apart, only matt and y/n could find themselves more fond of each other.

warnings : angst, fluffy, mentions of alcohol and weed, sort of proofread

mickey speaks : THANK U FOR UR PATIENCE SWEET ANGELS HERE’S THE 10TH PART FOR YOU!!! tgwtt is already in double digits 🥹 only like 8 more parts to go

THIS IS PART TEN GO READ THE OTHERS FIRST PLEASE!!!

"COME on y/n we'll have so much fun!"

you haven't had a night out in weeks.

following matt's party, you swore off alcohol until your own birthday in mid-september, afraid of the amount you'd allow yourself to consume now that you're feelings are supremely hurt and bitterness coated your tongue.

it was difficult to turn down the first week, despite the smell and taste of any drink making your stomach turn you craved the drunken effect and secretly wanted to run into matt- just to see what he'd have the nerve to say to you. but the mature, wiser part of your brain knows there is nothing good to come from spiteful drinking. so you've declined every weekend.

you know in your heart that your friends only want you to feel good and have fun with them. it's the only reason you've tolerated this current conversation for so long.

"i believe you! but i'm just saying i'll have just as much fun with this bowl of strawberries and my bed," you reach into a cabinet for one of the many off-white glass bowls.

"baby you haven't been out with us in so long, we miss you!" remi beams kicking her legs as she sits atop your counter, fully dressed and decorated for her night out (contrasting the bare face, oversized tee, and panties you wear).

you sigh and look over to the three girls huddled in your kitchen, "no, you guys know 'm not drinking right now," you shake your head and push off of the counter heading towards the fridge in search of your berries.

"i'm just confused on why you're suddenly so strict on drinking? and regardless of the drinking you could have fun without it if you loosen up a bit..." erin replies while resting her body against the wall next to remi's spot.

you roll your eyes while your face is still in your fridge before shutting it back, "i don't understand what's not clicking erin, i don't want to go out at all! i want to stay at home and be away from drunk people and watch something brainless and then i wanna go take a fucking bath. i'm so tired of having to explain and repeat myself. please go, please have a good time, and please- respectfully, mind your business."

you run water over your strawberries and andrea's eyes widen as she turns back towards the counter to pour herself another shot.

"alright, whatever.” erin shakes her head, “dre, remi, i'm gonna go wait outside this is annoying. she can stay bitter," she walks out and whispers, "bitch," under her breath before shutting the door.

it's silent for a second as you begin to harshly cut the stems off of the fruit, remi comes behind you and wraps a caring arm over your shoulder for a hug, "are you okay?"

"yes, i'm fine, you can go have fun..." you turn to face her and offer a strawberry.

"i really do miss you,” you kisses your shoulder and bites into the strawberry, “love you," she reminds you as she grabs her bag and dismisses herself to check with erin. you nod your head and continue to stare blankly as you repeatedly cut.

andrea speaks up after hearing the door fully shut. she breathes heavily as she stares down at her hands on the counter, "cariña ("honey"), you’re not a bitch.”

“i know…” your voice is small.

“i know you do. i also know something’s hurting you badly right now and i selfishly wish you’d fucking tell me so i could help.” she licks her glossed lips, “but as long as you’re being kind to yourself, i can deal with you keeping this to yourself.”

your eyes brim with salty tears and when you let out a broken sniffle she's immediately by your side. "nooo don’t cry, i’m already pre-drunk! you know i will too!" you try to continue preparing your fruit but andrea turns your body to make room for a warm hug. you're quick to tuck your face into her perfumed neck and let out your feelings through cry's.

you had always thought that what andrea (or anyone) didn't know about your sex life with matt wouldn't kill her, but quite frankly it's killing you. you want to tell her everything he’s ever made you feel- for all andrea knows matt was once a silly crush and currently a little less than a friend to you.

but at the same time you just know she would tell you to stop seeing him if she knew everything. she would remind you that at your core you are far too caring and attached to handle recurring casual sex with him in the first place.

"i'm so sorry, drea. i really wanna tell you but i’m not ready." you croak pitifully.

not ready to accept the embarrassment of wanting him to like you this bad.

and for someone as willingly vulnerable as you, you’re especially not ready to hear her scold you a little for somehow hurting your own feelings and putting your friendship with erin on a thin line over some guy.

your words only confuse her brain more, but she can only continue to rub circles into your back and silently pray you didn’t do something illegal or, like, morally cruel.

౨ৎ

matt would love to say he hasn’t thought about you since you bitched out on him the night of his birthday, but he could never just blatantly lie.

he can say he has gone the past few weeks without reaching out to you- which mostly speaks to both of your stubbornness and pride.

in fact, you’re part of his reason for having his own night in tonight- though it’s far less sadistic of a reason than yours. he’s simply grown bored of the repetitive night life he and his friends have.

you were always there for him to tease and secretly fuck around with whenever your friend groups would combine for the night. but as of late he’s left sitting at the bar swigging down beers and scrolling on his phone (sometimes he’d get irrationally irritated at you for not posting on your instagram or snapchat stories, feeling a as if it was a direct punishment to remove him from knowing any details about your life) or until the rest of the group throw the towel in.

on the worst and most irritating of nights he’ll take an uber home by himself. and those were the nights he would get so close to being irrational- showing up to your house and confronting you was oh so enticing. but he’d talk himself out of it and go home to fuck his fist like you’d probably tell him to do.

and on the most horny and pathetic of nights he'd end up in the backseat of his car finger-fucking erin with her tongue in his mouth. it ended at that though, matt's skin started to crawl thinking of when you rode him in the front seat not too long ago. he had pinched his eyes shut and pulled erin's hands away from his zipper, swaying her with some sweet "i just wanted to make you feel good s’all" and a kiss before she left and he awkwardly drove himself home- pondering how little self control he had to be desperate enough to do even get that far.

so, he didn’t even bother to go out tonight. when chris and nick asked him through his closed door, he told them he’ll stay in for some “peace and quiet.” really, he just couldn’t stand to be disappointed by the guaranteed lack of you being there.

he sits in his desk chair, legs spread casually, and sketchbook held against his thigh as he scribbles around to formulate a few rough outlines for upcoming clients. somewhere in the mix he begins to sketch out a familiar cartoon cat, which only irritates him and makes him close the book abruptly, shoving it into his desk’s drawer.

matt rubs his hands over his face a few times and lifts himself from the chair, heading straight for his bedside table. he bites at his lips while digging through the drawer, eventually finding the pretty red hot blunt you rolled and gifted him.

he makes his way out to the patio, not bothering to turn the outdoor lights on; blunt, lighter, and phone in tow. he slouches into one of the many chairs near the glass door and places the blunt between his lips, shuffling as he digs in his back pocket for his lighter.

the spark of the bright flame highlights his focused face for only a few seconds while he pricks the end of the misshapen yet smoothly rolled blunt. he breathes in the smoke immediately, throwing the lighter onto a table nearby. he tilts his backwards to blow out swirls of smoke above him.

matt initially wants to wait to call you until he feels high enough, mostly to give him an excuse for calling in the first place because he knows you’ll be expecting one. but he can't fucking wait, he wants to know what you're doing right now.

matt continues to effortlessly inhale and exhale several hits as he searches his phone for your contact.

his thumb hovers over the dull button that would change a lot for him. calling you means looking like a dumbass, as if he can't handle not knowing you (apparently he can’t but he wouldn’t admit to it). calling you means he’s breaking this implied break up- for complete lack of better terms.

but who’s to say you’ll even answer and give him a chance to do any of that? and suddenly his phone is vibrating in his hand as he raises it to his ear.

it takes four rings for you to answer, though you're completely silent on the other end. he waits and you wait. he truly didn’t think this far ahead. you only give him a few extra seconds to be silent before you hang up all together.

matt kisses his teeth and redials. when you eventually answer again he speaks through the smoke in his lungs, "hi. why'd you hang up?"

"matt, don't call my phone and expect me to speak to you first." your voice has a bite to it that still surprises matt a little. it's so infrequent for you to be harsh or upset (as long as matt has known you, you've been nothing but cheerful and well… sunny) that it's oddly pleasant to see how you handle negative emotions- it reminds him that you’re not always good, something he’d always weirdly envied about you.

he releases more smoke in the air around him, "my bad, sweetheart."

"just tell me why you’re calling. are you drunk or ...?"

"no. i just wanted to know what you're doing."

you sigh heavily, "why does that concern you...?"

his eyes pinch as he stares out into the dark backyard, "why're you bein' so difficult? 'm just trying t-"

"matt. get there, please." you rush, though you secretly are enjoying hearing his voice and the romanticized idea that he must care a little if he’s reaching out again.

“yeah.” he takes a breath, “i don’t know. i’m just, like, here…by myself, and i wanted to remember what you sounded like.”

you smirk to yourself but drop it immediately, “okay…well, this is what i sound like.”

“yes, so soothing, i could fall asleep right here,” you can hear him audibly stretch.

“oh, i’m putting you to sleep?” you tease.

“yeah, i need you to come over and wake me up,” he inhales once more.

you’re silent and he breathes out again, “fuck was that too much- i’m sorry.”

“definitely. i need you to calm down, sir.”

“oh i’m so calm, baby,” he moans out playfully.

“matt, i’ll hang up-”

“woah! let��s not make such rash decisions?!”

“okay then.”

“thank you for answering,” his voice is muffled, “you could’ve blocked me- i talked to you so crazy that night and i do feel bad about, i want you to know.” he pauses and you silently process as he continues to compliment you, “you’re the only woman besides, like, my mother, who is just classy as fuck and way too kind to everyone whether they deserve it or not.”

you could never have expected to hear any words of admiration from matt in regards to you. “oh my god, are you near a couple of trees right now? how’d you get so sappy all of a sudden?”

matt takes a second to register your joke before his entire face crinkles and he shakes his head, giggling, “bad joke. such a bad joke.”

you let yourself laugh a little as well before pulling together, “thank you for apologizing, i honestly didn’t expect that from you.”

“well i don’t hand them out like that so i guess you’re lucky or something.”

“i guess i am…” you smile into your words a little.

“what have you been doing?”

“like the past few weeks or right now?”

“i was talking about right now but you can say both.”

“just was checking! i don’t want to talk to much, i know you’d hate to listen to it.”

“heyyy! really? throwin’ some shit i just told you i didn’t mean right in my face like that?”

“i’m sorry i had to!”

“you were holding on to that one, huh?”

“just a little.”

“okay, tell me everything and i’ll listen.”

“i know i made it seem like i’ve been doing a lot but i’ve honestly just been working a bunch. it’s not as much of a nightmare as it sounds though- working long shifts has helped me fall asleep quicker. i’ve also started cooking a lot more whenever im bored which andrea looooves. and… um, right now i’m taking a bath.”

matt’s eyes widen and he chuckles, “dammit! i knew i should’ve facetimed instead!”

you bite your lip to hold back a laugh yourself, “what are you doing, matt?”

“guess.”

“i mean, i know you’re smoking but you could be in a random bedroom at a party or like, at some other bitch’s house…i don’t know, i’m just guessing!”

“never that,” he laughs- which you can’t decipher as a sarcastic or genuine one -and explains further, “‘m at home, outside with that perfect little blunt you made.”

“oh, for real?”

“uh huh, she’s treating me real good.”

“i’m glad. can you finish telling me how you’ve been?”

“yeah, um-”

“mattttt!” a very drunk nick suddenly yells while sliding open the glass door.

matt literally jumps and is immediately annoyed, you can hear it in his voice despite it being muffled now, “dude, you scared the shit out of me! what do you need?”

“hello to you too, ugh, i forgot you’re all moody right now. what are you even doing it’s all dark and shit?” nick hangs on the door has he peeks outside.

matt gets up to close the door again, “mind your business, nick. move, you’re in the way.”

“hmm, you are so weird.” nick squints his eyes and turns away yelling chris’ name in a blood curdling scream (for absolutely no reason besides the fact that he thought it’d be funny to see chris drunkenly run into the living room).

“hey, you still there?”

“mhm, yes”

“nick and chris just got back from the bar so i’ll have to help them chill out, um, yeah. i wanna hang out again. not even just to fuck if you aren’t cool with that yet, if we can be friends around our friends we can be friends by ourselves.”

friends? you and matt? hm. “that’d be nice, do you wanna just come over like usual?”

“i mean i could but we can do whatever you want, seems like you’ve been home a lot so, you know.” his voice gets more distracted as he speaks

“okay, i’ll let you know. good night.”

“sounds good, sweetheart.”

౨ৎ

MATT - 6:30 PM

Are you done yet?

Y/N - 6:52 PM

yes i’m coming now

“i’m sorry again for keeping you so late y/n, you really didn’t have to stay and help me close!” your coworker, angela, beams as she follows you out of the back door with a trash bag.

“don’t worry about it,” you smile to her as you walk with her to the large dumpster on the side of the building.

she throws a bag the size of her torso into the bin with a mumble of ‘ew’ before turning to you, “don’t say that! i know you have that date thing tonight, i don’t want you to be late.”

“i told you it’s not a date! we’re hanging out as friends.”

she rolls her eyes while putting her travel sized hand sanitizer back into her purse, “y/n don’t start with that…it’s totally a date from what you’ve told me.”

you both continue to walk towards the back parking lot,“trust me, he’s made it clear he’s not that kind of guy.”

“then why waste your time?”

right when you go to defend yourself you hear a car door shut, drawing your attention to the man of the hour, who’s locking the doors of his sleek black suv as his jaw works a minty piece of gum.

his black tee exposes his tattoos and his jean shorts are held up with his favorite black belt. you can see his light eyes are squinted due to the sun’s undying brightness from where you stand.

angela turns to you with a full smirk and softly slaps your arm, whispering and giggling, “girl, he’s hot!”

“oh my god!” you have an uncontrollable smile as you look at her, “stop it!” you look over again and this time matt is leaning against his car, ready to catch your eye and send you a wave of his fingers with his eyebrows raised.

you wave back then turn away once more, “‘kay i should probably go but i’ll see you wednesday, right?” you lean in for a hug.

“yes i’ll be here,” she smiles into the embrace as you kiss into the air to the side of her head, “you’ll have to give me all the deets!”

“mhm,” you hum as you both part ways, “bye ang!”

you approach matt without any rush and he takes the time to gaze over your complexion (far more radiant than the last time he’d seen you) and the way your mini jean skirt compliments the blushed red top you’re wearing. “hi sunny,” he grins and reaches a hand out to bring you into a hug, only for you to set the handle of your small purse in it. he kisses his teeth playfully, “it’s still like that, huh?”

“like what?” you condescendingly look up at him.

“alright, girl,” he dismisses, “where are we goin?“

“it’s a surprise for a reason matt!”

“okay… then i’m assuming you’ll drive?”

“not exactly..” you spin on your heel and walk away from him as a hint to follow you.

he wraps an arm around your shoulder as the two of you walk down the busy sidewalk, he gives a couple of glances down at your phone while also navigating the two of you. “metro?” he reads aloud.

“mhm,” you reply and smile to yourself while adding the tickets to your apple wallet.

“wow, you really planned this shit out.”

“i’ve never half-assed something in my life,” you say as you both stop at a cross walk.

“never? you have a brother, right?” he asks and you nod, “i’m sure he’d be able to come up with something.”

“probably,” you shrug and grab his wrist when the walking sign lights. “we’re gonna make it just in time, the bus comes at 7:10.”

౨ৎ

the seating on the bus is comfortably squished; you sit in the window seat and matt next to you, moving his limbs inward to give room to those walking in the isle.

you reapply a faded shade of red, black cherry to your lips while using your phone camera. matt watches with his lips pursed in awe. “that shade looks nice on you,” he says softly.

you’re already feeling giddy internally and he’s forcing you to blow your unbothered cover at this point, “thank you,” you smile and turn to see him already close to your face, looking at your eyes then lips. you just have to close the space by giving him a small kiss, mumbling, “it looks good on you too, see,” you move your phone so that he can see his lips outlined with the stain of you.

he laughs and pouts his lips while checking himself out in your camera, making the risky move to take a photo of himself, before giving your cheek a kiss.

౨ৎ

“jesus, for forty fucking minutes you better have brought me to an all inclusive resort!” matt complains while dramatically stretching his back.

the sun was now peeking down and the flashing lights of santa monica pier were extra enticing. “stop, we’re gonna have so much fun! look!” you point at the energetic strip with a childish grin.

“alright, let’s go then,” he tilts his head towards the fair.

౨ৎ

“definitely could have gone without that last ride- wayyy too many dips,” matt holds his stomach dramatically.

“i could tell, you were screamin’ like crazy,” you smirk as the two of you stand in the line at one of the many food trucks. two hours into being there and you’ve rode almost all of the rides, it was expected for matt to ask to stop for some sort of food eventually.

“barely.” he rolls his eyes, “what do you want?”

“i’ll have a water and one of those bomb pops,” you tell him.

“that’s not really food, are you gonna be good with that for right now?” he clarifies.

“yes, matt. thank you,” you smile and matt waves you off as he approaches the tall window to order.

“hey, what’s up man? i’ll just have a water, one of those fourth of july a bomb pops, medium fry and a modelo in a can please,” he flashes a smile and pays quickly.

you thank him and the cashier as you take hold of the items you asked for. “can we go walk on the beach?” you ask him.

“yeah, it’ll be dark as shit, but yeah,” he responds lightly and shoves a few fries into his mouth.

౨ৎ

“when i was younger my mom would bring me and my brother to the pier every summer since i was seven maybe?” the waves crash softly in the background as matt lays between your legs, despite the scratchy denim of your skirt. “when i was eleven my brother would want to go off with his friends in high school and my mom wasn’t a fan of the rides, so she would bring me to walk on the beach with her instead.” you recall out loud after matt had asked what made you want to come here today.

“mmm, reminds me of east coast beaches when i was a kid. we’d make a whole day out of it and pack up my mom’s minivan.” you stretch his scalp hypnotically, “just being rowdy and annoying as hell on the ride there and sleeping on the way back. being a kid is, like, the best and we never realize it when we’re there.”

“isn’t it kind of sweet that we don’t? kids don’t even understand the concept of missing childhood or being nostalgic until they’re older. if eight year old me were constantly dwelling on what’s passed i know she’d go insane. i mean, even now, everyone is always chasing previous feelings and never fully in tune with the one present.” you look out at the waves that softly build up and crash repeatedly.

matt licks his lips and opens his eyes, sitting up from your lap, “holy shit, sunny,” he kisses you and pulls away to laugh, “you just made me sound like a dumbass.”

he keeps a hold of your face, “matt you’re not dumb, everyone is nostalgic for something,” you kiss him again to seal your words.

matt pulls away and you stands up and begin to remove your shirt leaving you in a lacy bra, “come on,” you tilt your head and matt immediately stands up to cover you.

“the fuck do you mean, ‘come on’?” he starts to laugh while looking around for anyone around.

you roll your eyes at his protection and unbutton your skirt, “take a dip with me.”

“no?! y/n, that water is freezing...”

you pull down your pants to reveal a small pair of matching lacy panties that matt can barely see in the dark but he just knows would send him over the edge.

“matttt,” you pout and bring his hands to your exposed ass, lifting his chin to capture his lips in your own, “please?” you look up at him.

he pinched his eyes shut, “baby, put your clothes back on…”

“alright be lame,” you take his hands off of you and run into the empty beach with a freeing laugh.

matt stands there, not wanting to yell and draw attention to you both, but also not wanting to freeze to death.

“matt! the water’s not even that cold, come here!” you exclaim, wading in the shallow water.

“no, i’ll just wait here until you’re done cooling off…”

“matt, please! what if i-” you pretend to fall backwards and start to fake a drowning scene that has him undressing to his boxers quickly.

he ignores the rush in his blood from the surprise of the water’s temperature in favor of getting you out of there. he calls your name over and over, the pitch black look of the ocean doing absolutely nothing to help.

he’s pretty freaked out when you come back up and jump on his back yelling, “you saved me! you saved me!” with a cackle.

matt immediately groans and slaps the water, “fuck you, why would you ever do some shit like that?!”

you giggle and he throws you off his back easily, turning around to be face to face with you as you wipe your eyes, “oh my god matt, my mascara’s gonna run!”

“maybe we should think of these things before running into the ocean?”

you stop wiping underneath your eyes to forcefully push him under the water, giggling at the sound of the crash and his “don’t-!” right before.

“no more,” he spits out water and scolds you when he comes back up, inching closer to you and holding you by your hips as you wrap your legs around his waist.

“okay,” you agree and go to kiss his wet face just as he quickly unhooks you and throws you back under.

“matt!” you squeal as you resurface to hear him laughing, “dude, i’m gonna kill you.”

“truce, truce, truce!” he repeats and backs away from you.

“yeah, you better run,” you threaten.

౨ৎ

“your eyelashes are like sooo long when they’re wet,” you compliment as you stare at matt under the moon’s light.

he pulls you closer him to stop his mouth from chattering due to the cold, “i’ll give you my lash routine,” he jokes.

“i realized something when we got off the phone the other day,” you bring up, as your eyes run over each of his facial features.

“tell me,” he rolls his icy lips into his mouth.

“i never said sorry for being nasty to you on your birthday.”

matt’s eyes squint, “it’s fine, i’m not hung up on that shit. we said we’re good, right?”

“yes, but-”

“alright then,” he shrugs and squeezes your ass in reassurance.

a smile graces your face and and you let your head fall to his shoulder, whispering, “matt…i’m cold now.”

“i’ve been waiting for you to say that, oh my god!”

౨ৎ

you both suffer as you put your clothes back on over your wet skin. you’re both chattering messes and simply cannot stop laughing about it as you make your way back to the boardwalk’s strip of raging bright lights.

you don’t get far before you’re begging matt to win you an oversized faux fur leopard print coat, “it’s just what i need, please!”

and he’s spent almost two twenties replaying this stupid game over and over again. you’re a pretty good cheerleader though.

“come on matt, you got it this time! no pressure! it’s only like i’m dying of hypothermia!” he deadpans as he looks over to you, “what?”

it was a simple game of ring toss- that was most definitely rigged, but besides you reminding him this and saying you didn’t need the coat that much, the stand runner’s comments doubting matt was enough to fuel him to continue playing until he wins.

and somehow he tosses the perfect ring, watching it land and swivel around the bottle in victory. you both outwardly celebrate with screams and a very public kiss, that the two of you just can’t stop sharing today.

“congratulations,” the employee boredly says.

“thank you sir, thank you.” matt then obnoxiously turns around and yells out a speech to the random passersby “i wanna thank my mother, my grandmother, brothers, dog, and you people for giving me this opportunity to win something so grand for my sweet sunshine!” you stop giggling to give a royal wave to the many people judging the two of you, “thank you santa monica!” he blows a kiss and you both spin around to claim your prize.

“you two are like cartoon characters,” the stand runner says. and as soon as you start to grin at him he corrects, “that wasn’t a compliment.”

“whatever man, just give the pretty girl the fucking coat,” matt blinks at him. as the man walks away to grab the fluff off of the rack a few people stop by the table and matt warns them, “if i were you i’d keep walkin’, this guy’s a first-class hater.”

you drag matt by his arm back over to you, “did you take your socially-overbearing pills today?!”

“i have no clue, i think im too cold for my brain to process embarrassment anymore.”

“here’s that coat,” the man hands you it with a shake of his head.

“thank you, sir!” you exclaim and immediately fit your arms from the sleeves, “this is everything i’ve ever wanted!” you say as your jaw goes slack.

“you look good,” matt agrees, “you also look warm, so now i’m jealous.”

“let’s go get you something warm, baby.”

౨ৎ

after a trip to a random gift shop for a hoodie, matt whined about needing real food so bad.

so the two of you stand at the hostess stand in a small mexican restaurant on the strip.

“for two?”

“yes, thank you.”

“i’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick, okay?” matt speaks close to your ear and you simply nod and watch him walk off.

you wait a few moments before the hostess offers to take you to your table, “did you want to go sit now or wait for your boyfriend?” she asks kindly.

you try not to make it so apparent that you enjoy the idea of you being matt’s girlfriend, “yeah, i can sit now, he’ll find me.”

౨ৎ

“i’ll have the chicken burrito please with extra rice,” matt orders as he sits across from you.

“and i’ll have the four birria tacos please,” you hand her the menu kindly.

you both are bundled up ridiculously with frizzy hair and barely-dry clothes, you’re surprised anyone agreed to serve you.

“alright, that should be out shortly!”

when she walks away matt asks, “why didn’t you get a drink? i’m just curious.”

“i swore off drinking until my birthday,” you shrug and fall back into the plush of the booth.

“mm, not smoking either?” he sips his water.

“i mean i haven’t smoked since early august but no i didn’t purposely stop.”

matt nods, “well if you were to drink, what are you ordering? i usually go for a corona but i wanna try something different.”

“oh strawberry margarita, a hundred percent. hits everytime.”

“i’ve never had a margarita so i’ll try it.”

your jaw drops, “hell yeah you’re gonna try it, i can’t believe you!”

“what can i say?” matt shrugs.

౨ৎ

matt plays with the toothpick in his mouth as you both sit in your spots for the bus ride home. he got to enjoy his first margarita and you took multiple pictures to document it, he bought you churros to go, and now you both are the most tired you’ve been in a while.

you quietly respond to texts that andrea sent you hours ago, asking what you’re doing and if you’ll be home soon, while matt lays his head on your shoulder sleepily.

eventually you shut your phone off and calmly rest your head against the chilled window for the rest of the ride.

•

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets fan fiction #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets smut #matt sturniolo x black!reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo

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boxofbonesfic · 1 year ago

Photo

Title: Tonality [4]

Pairing: Prince!Geralt x Princess!Reader

previous chapter

Summary: “The white wolf wants you. He’ll have no other.” As you grieve the loss of your father, your mother marries the king. Whilst you struggle to acclimate to your new life, you begin to suspect the interest your new brother has in you is less than familial.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Dark Fantasy, Darkfic, Step-cest, Medieval/GoT inspired AU, (Future)Smut, Dubcon/Noncon, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, MINORS DNI!!

A/N: a little more story, a little more tension, a little mor everything! what do you guys always, please mind the warnings, and enjoy!😊🥰 divider by @firefly-graphics

The Nilfgaardian banner snaps in the sharp, salt-laden breeze, the dark fabric bearing the crest of its namesake. The bright yellow sun mirrors the one in the cloudless sky above the keep. From your room, you can see their approach long before they reach the gates, a thin vein of black weaving through the countryside like a snake. The garrison pauses only briefly in the city, winding through the crowded streets in their pitch colored armor like a long satin ribbon. You grimace at the sight of them, swallowing against the sourness you feel growing at the back of your throat.

You do not know why the sight of them fills you with a dark foreboding, a shadow that looms in the space behind your thoughts. Perhaps it is the knowledge that you are expected to greet the Nilfgaardian envoy alongside your mother, the king, and the prince that makes your stomach curdle.

“My Lady, should we not join their Majesties?” Kassandra’s voice draws you from your churning thoughts. “Her Highness would not be pleased if we were late.” You swallow the dry retort that your mother would not be pleased no matter what you did, and automatically feel guilt over the bitter thought. You grimace before nodding at Kassandra over your shoulder.

Nothing good will come of this. The feeling—no, the knowledge—is as familiar to you as your own name, appearing among your thoughts as if it had always been there. Only sorrow will come of this day.

“Are you alright, Your Grace?”

Your throat tight, you smile. “Y-yes.” I am grim without cause. You shake yourself, smoothing your hands down the stiff, unfamiliar dress. It’s new, gifted to you only this morning as your mother had informed you of her expectations.

“You’ll look lovely in this,” she had bade the servants to lay out the massive thing, a veritable ocean of fabric, with so many skirts and stays you find yourself amazed you can even move at all. You detest the restriction and corsetry of it all, fidgeting with a frustrated grimace as Kassandra opens the door. Your thoughts must be plain on your face, for she is quick to reassure you as you pass.

“You are a vision, Your Grace,” she says, hurrying to your side as she closes the heavy door behind you. Despite your displeasure, her words do comfort you, and you offer Kassandra a watery smile in thanks. “I daresay you shall be the envy of every Lady in attendance.”

You laugh dryly. “Even you?” Kassandra’s response is unexpected—she shakes her head, pressing her lips together into a thin, apologetic smile.

“No, my Lady.” She says softly. There is true pity in her eyes, which stings all the more. “Though there are many in His Majesty’s keep who would treat with the Gods themselves to take your place—and, exalted though it may be, I am not among them.” The words pass unspoken between you, true honesty masked only slightly by propriety. “I would not wish that for all the world.”

The throne room is as packed with bodies as it was at your mother’s coronation only a few scant weeks prior, servants weaving deftly in and out of the crowd. It parts easily for you, people scrambling out of your path as you make your way toward the throne. Geralt stands to the king’s left, and you feel the weight of his gaze upon you so heavily it is as though he has touched you with his hand.

“My King. I trust you are well this morning?” He heaves a heavy sigh at your question, massaging the graying hair at his temple.

“As well as can be expected, given the circumstances.” King Vesemir graces you with a tired smile. “But I am glad these worries are mine. Would that they fall on mine own shoulders and save yours.” Of these troubles, you know only what little you have managed to glean from casual conversation and your own observations—the Lord of Nilfgaard has sent his envoy, along with a garrison of troops, to treat with the king.

Your mother scoffs. “You are a King, my love,” she says, tilting her regal head at him. “You can do nothing without rousing at least a little of the rabble.”

You take your place next to her, skirting around the prince with a wide berth. Your mother reaches for your hand, patting it as she nods approvingly at you.

“You look as lovely as I thought you would.” Somehow, her complement makes you like your clothing even less. The dress is heavy and cumbersome, the corset laced so tight a deep breath makes the seams groan.

“It is the color.” Geralt’s interjection makes your mother’s smile thin and tighten, until the edges seem brittle like paper. “It suits you, sister.” Is there no line he will not cross? From behind his wide shield of plausible deniability he mocks you, his mouth quirking innocently as if he is unaware of the boundary he dances upon. Gracious acceptance is the only play you have, and he knows it as well.

“You are too kind, my Prince.” You clasp your hands together and face forward. It is surreal, almost, to see the calm with which he regards you now, when only a week ago he had raged at your door like a madman. Had you not seen it yourself, you would not think it possible. Though you would blame him for it, the nervous twisting of your stomach is not Geralt’s fault alone. The ill feeling that had taken root in your belly at the sight of the Nilfgaardian envoy still left you with a sour taste on your tongue, one that did not seem to wash away.

And the dreams…

You shudder to think of them, the dark, creeping things that keep you awake long after the halls of the king’s keep have fallen silent. You have not wandered from your rooms again to your knowledge, but you’ve slept so little in the past week that you suspect it is less a matter of your self control and more the lack of opportunity. The nails on your fingers, hidden by the cumbersomely long sleeves of your dress, are bitten down to the quick. It is a new habit you’ve developed sitting in the crushing dark as you wait for the dreams to come.

Your father’s rotting face swims before you again.

Sugar sweet—

You twist the heavy fabric of your sleeves in your nervous hands as you stare hard at the stone floor between your feet.

“What troubles you, Little Doe?” Geralt’s voice is as much of a surprise as his proximity, his side lightly pressing against your own as he leans down. You drop your hands to your sides like deadweight, suddenly aware of his eye.

“And why would you think me troubled?” You ask curtly. The prince’s wolfish grin sends a strange, hot pulse straight to your core, one you vehemently try to ignore. You are under no pretense, you know what the prince is, who he is. He has gone out of his way to show you, and yet—

“I am apt to know trouble when I see it.”

The throne room doors slam open, leaving you no time to respond as every eye is drawn to the entrance. The instant hush that falls over the room is so deep that the herald’s voice is like a crack of thunder. At the same time, your stomach tightens. The dark warning in your heart rings again like a bell, clear and true. Though you still do not quite grasp its meaning, the message is clear—whatever you’d been meant to avoid had now come to pass, leaving no room for escape or denial.

“Presenting His Lordship, Duke Emhyr of Nilfgaard!” The duke sweeps into the throne room, his ink-black cloak billowing behind him. There are two of his own guards flanking him in their telltale black armor, like pools of animated shadow. Their faces are hidden by their helms, the sides carved like griffin wings.

The duke stops before the throne, dropping down to one knee.

“My King.” His accented common turns the words up at the edges, almost like a question. “Hail.” His face is handsome but severe, high cheekbones, fierce, beady eyes, and a thin mouth that curls up at the corners, just like his words. There is a scar on his face, long and thin and jagged, stretching from his left temple to the right side of his chin. His already wan smile thins further as he turns to your mother.

“My Queen.”

“Lord Emhyr.” The duke’s smile is wan as he dips his head again. “I bid thee welcome. I trust you found the journey pleasant enough.” The words are empty pleasantries, merely frivolous formalities exchanged before the truth is allowed to be addressed.

“Aye, Majesty, as enjoyable as one can find a carriage journey.” He straightens back up. “I would extend my many congratulations on your union. The Gods themselves could not have delivered a more beautiful Queen.”

To your surprise, it is Geralt who speaks next.

“We did miss you at the celebration, my Lord.” The remark is meant to sound like a casual observation—you know it is not. “Quite a pity.”

Emhyr’s jaw tics. “Indeed.” He looks over his left shoulder, and motions the guards forward. “My deepest regrets. As I previously expressed to His Majesty, my presence was required elsewhere. As I am sure you recall, we do share a border with the Elves.” He spits the word like a curse. “Occasionally those savages do need a good reminding of where their lands end, and ours begin, Your Grace.”

You shudder. There are few elves left south of the heavily policed Nilfgaardian border, but you have met some. Savages. The word makes your lip curl. They are rather fond of that word, aren’t they?

“I did bring a—belated—wedding present.” Between the two of them, the guards haul forward a small black chest, the polished wood glinting in the light. He pulls back the lid, and a murmur travels through the gathered courtiers at the sight of the jewels. A small fortune in dark blue sapphires sits within. King Vesemir stands, bidding two of the ivory cloaked kings-guard forward to take the chest.

“A most precious gift.”

“The mines remain prosperous. Perhaps Her Highness might have them made into something befitting her loveliness.” A smile creases your mother’s ruby lips, but it is sharp enough to cut. Neither does it reach her narrowed eyes.

“We cannot thank you enough for your gracious gift, my Lord.” Her voice is delicate, like breaking glass. “But I do not believe you rode for six days to bear witness to my beauty.” You are left to wonder in the brief moments before Duke Emhyr answers. If he will allow the truth to be broached, or if he will flee from it like a rat from a burning ship.

“Indeed my Queen, I have not.” He casts a look around, as if the words he is about to speak are for everyone there, not just the king. “Your Grace, I come before you today with only the deepest respect for your will, authority, and wisdom.” Duke Emhyr chooses his words carefully. He chooses them as carefully as a mason did his stones, stacking each one meticulously on top of the other. “But I do admit my heart longs for clarity on this matter.

Not a season past, when His Majesty announced an end to his long mourning period, and indeed his intent to marry once more, I did put forth my own daughter as prospect.” His accusation takes shape, and you watch your mother’s face tighten, her fingers curling around the polished bone arm of her throne. “And before this very court, His Majesty agreed. I had imagined a shared future of prosperity and happiness between both our great houses. I mean no offense, and so I beg pardon—”

“And yet you have given it.” Your mother’s expression remains placid—her voice less so. You can almost hear the icy words forming on her tongue as her lips part to speak again, but the king silences her, holding up one steady hand.

“I appreciate your candor, my Lord,” he leans forward. “But it is Vesemir who rules here, not Emhyr.” All chatter ceases, and the chamber is as quiet as the crypt beneath it. “The decision as to who it is I marry is mine—and mine alone.” King Vesemir stands, descending the short set of steps until he is level with the duke. “It is I who bears the burden of ensuring the prosperity and stability of this realm. And while I am ever thankful for the service you have provided it… you would do well to remember that fact, my Lord.”

“Of course, my King. I—I mean only for the betterment of the empire.” It is then that his eye falls to you. “I see no reason a match might not still be made—”

“Then we shall speak no more about it.” You watch the duke’s jaw tighten, his lips thinning as he fights not to show his displeasure.

“As you will, Your Grace.” You have not heard the last of this matter, of that you are certain. A sinking feeling rises in your stomach, like you’ve tumbled freely over the edge of a cliff. There is no going back, the feeling seems to whisper, goosebumps erupting across your flesh. A path has been chosen now and you will walk it—

“I thank you again for your generous gift, Lord Emhyr,” the dismissal is obvious in the king’s tone.

“The pleasure is mine, my liege.” The words sound broken in his mouth, like he’s chewed them up. A cold finger traces down your spine as his eyes meet yours again. “I thank you for your counsel.”

—

The sky is dark, angry black clouds roiling above the keep. You’ve not seen much rainfall in Rivia since your arrival, but today the clouds above you seem full to bursting, the smell of the imminent downpour filling your nostrils. Still, you take your time as you stroll through the gardens, stopping every so often to enjoy the sight of flowers in bloom.

“You are enjoying the gardens today, my Lady,” Kassandra’s observance is gently made, though she looks worriedly up at the sky.

“I feel I must,” you reply, leaning down to inspect a half-closed bud. “Summer here is drawing to a close, and I must admit I fear the cold.” You offer her a small smile over your shoulder.

“Have you no winter in Redania?” She asks, wonder coloring her words. “The land of eternal summer indeed.”

“No snow,” you agree, shaking your head. “Tis more like… autumn.” There is a wistfulness to your words you cannot suppress, a longing that brings moisture to your eyes. In truth, you doubt it will matter how many years you spend here at court—Rivia will never feel like home. Kassandra smiles thoughtfully.

“I should like to see it, my Lady,” she says. “Twould not be a chore to accompany you—if you wished it so. The winter here is harsh, even within the city walls.”

“Aye, winter on the continent is no easy task to weather.” The two of you turn at the sound of a new voice to face the speaker. Duke Emhyr bows respectfully, removing his cap as he does so. “I did not mean to intrude—I find the gardens less familiar than I imagined,” he adds, a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth. “Might I trouble you for an escort?”

You had not seen the duke since his spectacle at court the day prior, the matter of which had the courtiers aflutter with gossip. You suppose you, like Duke Emhyr, had been equally blindsided in the matter of your mother’s courtship and her subsequent marriage. Nervously, you wonder if his feelings of dissatisfaction—and possible animosity—extend to you by proxy. Kassandra curtsies, and you nod, forcing a small, charitable smile onto your lips.

“O-of course, my Lord.” You reply. “I myself find the task of navigating the keep daunting, despite calling this place home.” Kassandra falls into step just behind you, and you must physically stop yourself from commanding her to walk beside you. Though you’ve little personal regard for the importance of blood and titles, you know here in Rivia those things matter above all else. The duke is more than happy to ignore her, his hawkish eyes weighing heavily on you.

“How long has it been since your arrival at the White Keep, if you will indulge my curiosity?”

“Nearly three months.” Though you have kept count of every passing day since your arrival, to say it aloud makes homesickness rear up in your chest. The duke clucks his tongue pityingly.

“Tis a shame. Redania is quite beautiful this time of year. I have had the pleasure of many a visit.” He clasps his hands behind his back and casts a look at the dreary sky. “Nilfgaard is my home, but I would be a liar if I said I did not envy the beauty of the southern jewel.” The wistfulness in his voice inspires thoughts of warm autumn nights scented with pine and faded sunlight. But a warning echoes in your heart at the false note in it, the one that reminds you of the coy, prying questions of your mother’s ladies in waiting, only cloaked in a cleverer disguise.

“Indeed.” You round the corner of a hedge. “I have never seen snow, now that I think of it. I should much like to, now that I am older.”

“Never seen snow?” The duke echoes your words, replacing your simple desire with shock. “Though I would not speak ill of your late father—Redania has never seen a finer Regent—I do believe he kept you far too sheltered.” It takes effort to keep your smile from going thin at the mention of your father. As if in response, a dull ache throbs in your chest.

“How lucky for us, then, that his death should bring me here.” You flick the words from your tongue like the lashing of a whip. There is a brief moment of dark satisfaction as the duke’s eyes widen, and his confident words falter.

“My sincerest apologies, Princess, I did not mean—”

“No, of course not.” You reply, swallowing against the sudden lump in your throat. “Forgive me, Duke Emhyr. My father I are—were, quite close.” You offer him an apologetic smile. “Might we speak of something else?”

“Of course, of course. My deepest sympathies.” He casts a furtive glance in your direction. “I hope you have been enjoying your time here, despite the… unfortunate circumstances.” You nod primly—for what words do you have to describe the aching emptiness that fills you at the thought that home is a distant thing now, the memory of a place you no longer belong.

“I have found ways to occupy myself.” You feel as thin as your smile. “The White Keep is large, there are many ways to spend ones time.”

“And Her Majesty has certainly taken to her role,” he continues. “She has taken to court as though she were born here.” There is a note of bitterness in his voice. “Has she spent much time in Rivia? Surely during His Majesty’s rather short courtship—”

“I know little of my mother’s courtship,” you say flatly, your eyes narrowed. “If you wish to know about it, perhaps you should ask her.” This time, it is difficult to leash your ire. You grow tired of the duke’s probing, his thinly veiled attempts to pick information from conversation behind the shield of feigned ignorance.

“Highness—”

“I trust you will can your way from here.” There is an unfamiliar coldness that underscores your words, one that uncomfortably reminds you of your mother. It is like hearing her own voice from your mouth, leaving a sour taste on your tongue. “Lady Kassandra, l believe we should take our leave.”

“At once, My Lady.”

You leave him at the entrance to the gardens in the courtyard, sweeping past as his eyes bore into your back.

—

“How does it end?” You are sat before the fire, a book held tenuously in your hands. Your loose, traditional dress is folded beneath you primly as the flames dance in the hearth. “How does it end?” Your father repeats warmly, chuckling as he leans forward to rest a hand on your shoulder. “You stopped reading.”

You can’t quite recall where you were now, the words seeming to shift on the page as you squint at them.

“I… I don’t remember now,” you say, glancing over your shoulder at your father. Though the flames are bright, his face is shadowed, but you get the feeling that he is smiling.

“The princess has just met the wolf,” he replies. “She doesn’t know it yet, but he plans to devour her whole—body, and spirit.” You look down at the page. “She is careful, the princess, and clever, but the wolf is sly, and he is not the only thing she has to fear.” You do not know why, but his words fill you with an incomparable sorrow.

“What else does she have to fear? Is the wolf not enemy enough?” You are crying. You don’t know why, but you are, tears pouring down your face and dripping messily off of your chin to stain the pages with salt.

“Weep not, daughter. She may yet avoid his jaws—and if not that, then perhaps she might at least turn him to her will. But the peacock—she is her true enemy.”

“A bird?”

“Yes, dear girl,” your father’s voice goes strangely quiet as the fire burns low in the hearth, and the sitting room is shrouded in gloom. “For while her pretty feathers distract you, her beak plucks out your eyes.”

You wake blearily, blinking in the darkness as you struggle back to wakefulness. Instead of your bed, you are knelt on the cold, stone floor in front of the half-dead hearth. The embers that still smolder within are not enough to give off true heat, and pins shoot through your legs when you struggle to your feet. It is frigid in here, and you shiver, clutching your thin nightgown tightly around yourself.

You’ve no memory of leaving your bed, nor of kneeling in front of the hearth, and you sniffle as you make your way back beneath the canopy above your bed. There is a familiar ache in your tight throat that feels like you’ve been crying, and when you lift a shaking hand to your cheek.

Your face is wet with tears.

—

Your mother strokes your head as you sob, your tears soaking into her gown.

“I—I fear sleep, I fear waking,” you rasp, wiping at your sore eyes with the back of one trembling hand. “T-there is no respite from them. I close my eyes in one place and open them in another—” A hiccoughing sob cuts the words in half. “Mother I fear I… I fear I shall go mad if I see father again. His face—!” You bury your head in her lap as another round of shuddering sobs wracks your limp body.

It has been years since you have sought your mother’s comfort like this, and in truth you cannot remember the last time it was even offered. She had been surprised to see you at her chamber door at this hour, disheveled and still clad in your nightgown, but she had let you in after you’d tearfully recounted the contents of your dreams.

She strokes your head. “Nightmares, my love. Nothing but terrors spun up by your mind—brought on from stress, no doubt.” Her hand is cool and comforting against your forehead. “I shall have the healer assemble something for you.”

“T-thank you, mother.” You offer her a watery smile.

“Anything for you, my love.” She strokes your cheek affectionately, the bandage wrapped around her index finger rough against your skin. “I do so hate to hear of your suffering, I will do what I can to appease it.” You smile wider, even as you swallow back the inappropriately bitter feeling that says you have been suffering all this time regardless. This was the response you had desired from her all those weeks ago when you’d begged her to send you home—and now, for some reason, it feels… hollow.

“What happened to your finger?” You ask, and she sighs, waving her hand dismissively.

“A hairpin, nothing to worry yourself over.” You dry your eyes, dabbing at them with a handkerchief. Your mother barely acknowledges the timid knock at the door before the chambermaid pokes her head inside.

“Highness? H-His Majesty is here.”

Your mother does not look surprised to hear this. If anything, the corners of her mouth curl up into a sly smile for half an instant before she nods.

“I see. I shall see to him in a moment—” The maid squeals as the King himself pushes past her, his eyes wild.

“Thayet!” He calls your mother’s name with a hoarse, desperate voice. “I have waited over an hour for you—oh.” He seems to note your presence with all of the recognition one would give a fly. His bright, golden eyes are cloudy with confusion—as though he hasn’t the faintest idea who you are, or why you are there. Recognition finally lights in his eyes, and he nods at you.

“Princess. It is… quite late,” he says slowly, as if he is only now realizing that fact himself. “Should you not be abed?” Your face heats with embarrassment.

“Ah, y-yes, my King. I was… troubled.” Your eyes dart between him and your mother. “But mother has allayed my fears.” You gather your shawl about your shoulders, bowing your head respectfully. Of course he would visit her as a husband—that is a fact you suppose you have known since you came to this place, but to catch the King in your mother’s bedchamber was another thing entirely.

The eagerness in his eyes as he looks at her, the way he licks his lips—it reminds you uncomfortably of Geralt, and of the need you see mirrored in his amber eyes. You retreat from the sitting room, though the sound of your mother’s voice makes you glance over your shoulder one last time as the door begins to close.

“I shall send Callista with a sleeping draught,” your mother calls at your retreating back. “For the dreams.”

Your stomach turns uncomfortably as you watch the king latches onto your mother, pulling her close as he trails desperate kisses down her arm. You are too far away to hear the words he growls through his gritted teeth before ripping at the bandage on her thumb and sucking the injured digit into his mouth.

The door closes with a loud bang, leaving you alone in the dark, empty hall.

The peacock, your father whispers in your memory as you shuffle back toward your room in the early hours.

She’ll pluck out your eyes.

to be continued…

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

#henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fic #henry cavill x reader #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt x you #geralt of rivia smut #geralt smut #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt of rivia fanfiction #geralt x y/n #dark fantasy #dark!fic #darkfic #boxofbonesfic #tonality fic

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thicc-ray-of-sunshine · 22 days ago

Text

Not Jealous

You and Stan had decided to get drinks at a bar outside of town. Flirting with a guy for free drinks goes a tad sideways.

MINORS DNI

Then it clicked.

"Oh my god. You're jealous."

You felt bitter laughter bubbling from your throat, feeling the anxious bile rise alongside it. Everything about his behavior towards you finally falling into place.

"What?!"

"You're jealous Stan. That's what this is about."

He said nothing against your accusation; his brows merely furrowing further and cutting deeper lines into his forehead. Clearly he didn't know what to say; knowing your statement to be true. You swiveled around in your seat so you could fully look at him then, taking a deep breath and setting down your glass on the bartop hard.

"Stan you could have me in any way you wanted if you could just have an adult conversation about it!"

You attempted to keep a level voice as to not attract any more attention that Stan's little outburst already had but you just couldn't keep the anger out of your voice if you tried.

"Listen I don't pussyfoot around this kind of shit and I don't do jealous boyfriend shit either. Especially not with someone who isn't even my boyfriend. And I'm sure as hell not gonna put up with being called a tramp."

You could see the tension in his temples and him physically reeling from your straightforwardness in both your confession and also your calling him out. You clicked your tongue and tapped the nail of your index finger on the bar, calling for Stan's attention as he gulped rather comically.

"So what's going to happen next is I'm going to finish my drink. Then I'm going to go to the bathroom to touch up my makeup and take a minute to cool off. Once I'm done with all that I'm going to go outside where you’re gonna be at your car where you're gonna be ready to have that adult conversation."

You stared pointedly at him, unblinking and unwavering in your resolve.

"And if you ain't ready for that conversation then you better be gone, I can find my own way home and when you're finally man enough to own up to your shit you can come talk to me."

With an air of finality you slammed the rest of your drink back and dropped the empty glass back on the bar. You didn't spare a glance to Stan as you got up and walked into the ladies room, knowing that whatever expression appeared on his handsome face would piss you off.

You sighed heavily when you entered, the door closing behind you with a soft click. Looking at yourself in the large mirror above the double-sink you sighed again. You felt the need to drag your hand over your face out of sheer frustration but you would have smudged your makeup so you opted for holding your temples between your thumb and forefinger, a groan crawling it's way up your throat.

'This is stupid' You thought as you plopped your purse onto the counter. Then it was : 'Why do I have to be the emotionally intelligent one?' As you retrieved and reapplied your lipstick.

You were going to be so upset if you had to hitch a ride home with one of these guys. Hell you'd probably cry; out of sadness or frustration you wouldn't know. Maybe you'd fuck them, just to get it out of your system and maybe out of spite. Show Stan that maybe you were a tramp, show that bastard what he was missing and really put his money where his mouth is.

Even with what little had been actually said, you knew. With Stan's jealous outburst, eyes green with envy for the man who you had simply flirted with for a free drink, you knew. It was just a matter of whether or not anything would come from this. Whether or not Stan could get over a lifetime of emotional constipation to have an honest man to woman talk about how to handle your relationship, or lack thereof.

Sighing for what you decided would be the last time you swiped on a fresh coat of lipgloss and stepped back into the bar. Immediately your eyes found the now empty barstool where you left Stan no more than 7 minutes ago; you sucked in a breath and strode outside into the cool night air.

The cold was biting at your exposed shoulders, the change in temperature causing your eyes to water abit beneath your lashes. You stood there for a moment, relishing in the sobering chill, eyes closed before taking a deep breath of the crisp summer air before digging your heel into the pavement and turning in the direction in which you really hoped Stan's car would still be.

Half expecting him to be gone, your stomach still dropped when you saw him. He was somewhat casually leaning against the side of his car while smoking a cigarette, head tilted back and actively watching you.

Your body moved on its own, each step feeling heavier than the last as you made your way towards him. His eyes never left yours until you joined him in leaning against his car.

Neither of you said anything. You didn't look at each other. Just Stan smoking in silence next to you against the side of his car. You held out your right hand, index and middle finger aloft expectantly. You could see in your peripherals Stan's acknowledgement as he carefully slid the still burning cigarette into your waiting fingers, his own brushing yours briefly before retracting. He watched you then; taking a long shaky drag of his cigarette, and then the curve of your neck when you tilted your head back to exhale. You still didn't look at him when he took his cigarette back. You saw the way he looked at it between his fingers, stained with your lipstick but you still didn't turn to look at him.

This went on for a while; passing the cigarette back and forth, unspoken tension bleeding out into the night air. Words being postponed until there was nothing but ash and the remnants of your lipstick on the edge of the filter.

Somewhere between the final pass and Stan flicking the butt of the cigarette onto the ground below he had turned his body to face you completely.

You waited; bringing your arms up to cross in front of your chest. Bringing some kind of wall between yourself and the cold night air as well as you and whatever Stan was about to say to you. You still weren't looking at him.

"Y/N."

He slid his hand closer to you on the roof of the car. You could tell that he wanted to put his hand on your shoulder but was holding back, for your sake or his you didn't know. His voice sounded strained, filled with enough emotion that the last syllable of your name sounded dry in his mouth as he pleaded for you to look at him You couldn't stand it, couldn't keep him like that. So you did.

Taking a heavy breath and steeling your nerves, you turned your body to finally face him. For a moment there was nothing, just a heavy pregnant pause as he regarded you with an emotion you couldn't place.

"You ready to talk?"

You raised an eyebrow pointedly at him and your voice betrayed you by sounding thin and tinny. Stan's eyes left your face and found the pavement again as he tried to find himself enough to really have this conversation. You give him time to recover; watching him drag a large hand over his face and then through his hair exasperatedly.

"Look Sugar I ain't ever been good at this."

He gave you an apologetic look before continuing.

"I'm sorry for all that in there. Really I am."

Stan's arm gestured loosely to the bar in front of you. You took another deep sigh and leaned back against the car again, your gaze turning upwards as if the stars above you could somehow give you the answers and strength you needed. You both heard the large exhale of breath Stan let out and felt his posture relax a bit next to you, shoulders still incredibly tense as he awaited your response.

"I'm not mad at you Stan. I'm just frustrated. It's upsetting that it had to come to that instead of us just having a nice adult conversation. And I don't take too kindly at the notion of you insinuating that I'm some kind of whore. That I might still be a little mad about."

You heard him wince, a glance at him in your peripherals showed a clear grimace across his face; his embarrassment as clear as the night sky above you.

"M'sorry."

You didn't respond. An even louder sigh could be heard coming from Stan as well as his shoes scuffing against the pavement below while he shifted in his place, trying and failing to get comfortable. He let out a low whistle of a breathe before continuing.

"Did'ja mean that back there?"

You lifted your head back up, straightening your posture and found his eyes again, filled with uncertainty.

"Yeah Stan. I meant it. You could have me in any way you wanted if you'd just be a man about it."

Your right hand found a place at his cheek as you repeated your earlier statement but without malice or contempt. It was obvious that the sudden bought of easy affection caught him off guard but even so you could feel him lean into the touch for a brief moment before pulling away ashamedly.

"I'm too old for you Dollface."

Those were the words you expected to hear. By all rights they were true, he was technically too old for you in the eyes of the general public. You knew that that specifically would be a main hang-up and was a big part of the reason that you hadn't brought up the idea of anything further between you before now.

"Yeah I know."

He looked surprised at your words, clearly expecting some kind of rebuttal on your behalf and not the deep tone of resignation settling in your voice.

"I know that by all conventional standards you're way too old for me and I know that that's something that makes you feel deeply uncomfortable about this whole thing. But really? On my end I can't really find it in myself to care."

The words came off your tongue cooly now that you had resigned yourself to being completely honest and you were proud of yourself. Enough so that you couldn't really find it in yourself to be angry at being the one to actually lead this conversation.

"That's really the main reason I haven't said anything about how I feel about you. I'm usually pretty straightforward from the get-go about this kind of stuff but I figured that with the age gap it just wasn't something on the table."

You continued honestly. Stan didn't respond until you cast your gaze back to the empty parking lot, seemingly finding it easier to speak without your eyes on him.

"Ya really feel that way huh."

He kicked a stray pebble across the pavement, you didn't say anything; giving him the space to continue at his own pace.

"Listen kid I'm- I'm not a good man. I've done a whole lot of things that I'm not proud of."

You could hear the strain in his voice, you wondered briefly if he was going to cry.

"And it doesn't matter how I feel about ya. You could do a hell of a lot better than me. I mean why would someone like you even wanna waste yer time with me?"

Bitter laughter filtered out from Stan's mouth into the night. You didn't like it; his laughs were always warm and genuine, this was somber and filled with deep seated self loathing. You didn't want him to feel that way, especially not when it came to anything involving you.

Turning again to face him, you moved closer, unwavering even when he flinched briefly at your proximity. Carefully you brought your hand back up to his face, smoothing across his jaw in an attempt to soothe. He had a pained expression on his face when he leaned into your open palm, his hands coming around to grasp onto yours like a lifeline.

"I'm not wasting my time Stan. I know how I feel."

His eyes softened at your words, lips barely brushing the inside of the hand he'd stolen.

"And even if I was I can't think of anyone else I'd want to waste it with."

You could feel his breath hitch under your fingers as you went on.

"You're a good man Stanley. I don't care that you may have had a colorful past, all the bad could never take away what makes you a good person. I like you. I like you a lot. I could say more but I feel like it's still a little early to be throwing around the L word."

You smiled lopsidedly at him as he stared at you with wide eyes before they softened into a look of adoration that you couldn't ever recall being in the receiving end of. Chuckling softly, he mirrored your pose; releasing his hold on your wrist and sliding his left hand against the side of your face.

"The L word huh?"

"Yeah."

You kissed the inside of his wrist then, watching his eyelids drop behind his glasses as you closed the distance.

Finally you were kissing him. You were kissing Stan. The hand that was holding your own against his jaw moved to curl around your neck and into your hair as his jaw worked slow and sweet against your own. It was like he poured everything into the kiss, spilling all of his unspoken truths against the sanctuary of your mouth. All was laid bare, raw against your soft lips as he kneaded them with his own abit more chapped ones.

When the kiss finally broke, the both of you needing to breathe, Stan pulled you against his chest. It shook lightly as he laughed quietly against your hairline, pressing a kiss there before using the hand caressing your jaw to have you meet his eyes.

For a moment you both just stayed like that, gazing lovingly back at one another dazedly before leaning back into one another for another kiss. The second kiss was near bruising, lips pushing and pulling against one another longingly. You could feel him smile against your mouth just before pulling back again, a smile that you matched. Absolutely beaming at him as you both separated to rest casually against his car again. You laughed at the ridiculousness of mirroring your previous moments sans the tension, light and airy. Stan couldn't help but join you, all warm and genuine, very much a parallel to earlier. A parallel that brought you to hug his side, stepping up on your toes to plant a small kiss on his weathered cheek.

“So. What did you wanna do now?”

“Real smooth Stan. Real smooth."

Your cheeks hurt from how much you were smiling as you poked fun at him. His cheeks twinged pink at your teasing and went several shades darker when you pushed his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose from where the had fallen from the effort of kissing you.

Leaning back in his arms, you really took a minute to take in his appearance. You hadn't made too much of a mess of him yet. His hair was a tad mussed from where you ran your hand through it and so was his dress-shirt from where you held his shoulders. The worst of it was the lipstick and accompanying lipgloss he now sported, smeared rather haphazardly across his top lip and then his cheek where you kissed him there. You took pity on him and snatched his face in your hands again, stopping him short when he tried to snag you in another kiss so you could wipe off the offending color as best as you could. He ended up planting another one on you regardless, although having a hard time actually getting you participate fully through your shared giggling.

“Ok big guy let's blow this popsicle stand.”

Stan just smiled even wider and shook his head at your entirely cheesy turn of phrase while he walked you over to the passengers side of his car to usher you inside before sliding into the driver's seat.

The drive back to Gravity Falls wasn't very long. You both sat pleasantly in each other's company, Stan's hand resting on your thigh as you made yourself comfortable against his side on the bench seat. The radio softly churned out some classic rock station Stan had tuned into as he tapped out the rhythm with his fingers onto the steering wheel.

Soon you could see the familiar visage of your house illuminated by the headlights of the Stanmobile. Stan gave you a half smile when he put the car in park and admonished you when you went to let yourself out. Turning the key in the ignition to turn off the car, he got out and around to the passengers side to open your door for you, offering a hand to help you out of your seat. How chivalrous. He walked you right up to your door with a hand on the small of your back, waiting as you moved to retrieve your keys from your purse to unlock it. Gosh he was being such a gentleman about all of this, it was extremely charming and incredibly endearing. It almost made you feel bad about planning on wrecking it. Almost.

You turned back to face him, leaning against the now open doorway with a hand cocked playfully on your hip, holding back a smile. He stood there somewhat awkwardly under your porch light as he waited for you to dismiss him. What a sweetheart.

“What are you waiting for? A kiss on the cheek?”

That got the reaction you were hoping for, a big grin manifesting itself on Stan's face as he shook his head lightly at you using his own turn of phrase against him. He stepped forward and brought his hands around your waist.

“Something like that.”

You let him pull you against him to kiss you again, hands sliding up to the collar of his shirt. Despite the kiss that Stan had initiated being slow and sweet and oh so wonderful you still had other plans.

Going in for the kill; you nipped at his bottom lip with your teeth before swiping your tongue against the seam of his lips teasingly. You felt his hands tighten around your waist as his mouth enthusiastically snapped open and his tongue slid hotly against your own in a filthy open mouthed kiss.

A thin trail of saliva connected your mouths when you moved back to breathe. Stan was panting lowly against you, chest rising and falling with the effort as he stared adamantly at your lips still shining with saliva. His eyelids drooped low behind the thick frames of his glasses as his eyes made their way back up to meet your own equally hungry expression.

“You gonna come inside?”

Your noses were nearly touching, not having fully pulled away from each other, so you could feel his breath hitch against your open mouth as you spoke. Stan followed you wordlessly as you tugged him inside, shutting the door behind him. Dazedly he let you drag him with you through your living room where you got as far as the dining table where he pinned you against it to capture your lips with his own in another kiss. If you thought the kiss you initiated in the doorway was filthy then this one was absolutely scandalous; tongues swirling and twisting together into new shapes inside your mouth feverishly. Stan's hands raked up and down your sides, occasionally rucking up your dress and making a complete mess of the fabric beneath his fingers as you slid your hands into his shirt.

You silently thanked whatever impulse of Stan's that had him keeping the top three buttons undone as you combed your fingers through his chest hair. He groaned into your mouth and hauled you up and onto the table, shoving a knee between your thighs. Snaking your hands upwards you grabbed ahold of the longer tufts of hair on the back of his neck and used them as leverage to lick into his mouth

Large, warm calloused hands skirted across the tops of your thighs and played with the hem of your dress teasingly as he moved to trail wet kisses across your collar. You were left moaning into the darkness of your living room as he scraped his teeth across your neck and sucked a dark mark into the hollow of your throat that had you pulling at the silver beneath your fingers and locking your right leg around the calf of the leg between your own, pulling him infinitely closer. You both heard and felt the groan that left him as he pressed your legs further apart to fully stand between them, effectively pinning you to the table with his hips. A mildly concerning creak made you remember where you were and had you having an international battle with yourself on just how much you’d risk having the table below you give out by letting Stan rail you on it.

“Stan.”

You called for his attention and used your grip on his neck to pull him back to look at you. The warm brown of his irises completely overshadowed by dilated pupils in a lustful gaze as he stared down at your flushed face.

“Bedroom.”

An easy sleazy grin appeared on his face as he straightened his posture, back cracking. He slipped his hands under your ass to haul you up with him, forcing you to wrap your legs around his hips for stability. You grappled your arms around his shoulders and bit your nails into his back as he started walking you down the hall and to your bedroom. The door was already open so there was nothing blocking Stan as he entered and sat himself upon the end of your queen sized bed, bringing you down with him. He adjusted you into a more comfortable position so you were straddling his lap before you caught him in another searing kiss. His stubble scratched pleasantly against your cheeks as you slid your tongue into his mouth. You could feel him smirk as you did so, clearly enjoying the attention. Smacking his chest lightly did nothing to deter him, if anything his smirk grew and he pinched your ass with his left hand.

He took great advantage of your yelp of surprise and took control of the kiss, pushing back and swirling his own tongue into your mouth. You couldn't find it in yourself to be upset at his pirateering since his domineering behavior sent a spark down your spine that ended in between your legs. Without much thought past that you brought your hands down to grope at his chest and ground down hard against him. Immediately his mouth left yours with a lascivious pop as he moaned openly, hands scrabbling to grasp at your hips. You took the opportunity to drag your tongue down his neck, leaving small bites and kisses, searching for a spot that would draw a shuddering moan from him.

When his breathing hitched and his hips pitched upwards you knew you had found it; you promptly latched on and sucked a bruise into the spot just below where his neck met his jaw. Good luck covering up that. The guttural broken groan that ripped it's way through his chest was exactly the reaction you were searching for and you decided that you needed to hear it again. You circled back up and skimmed your teeth across his jaw before zeroing in on the now forming hickey and biting down. This action brought forth a moan from so deep in his chest his body rumbled from the effort of releasing it and had Stan’s right hand flying into your hair to drag you back to his mouth for another bruising kiss. You coiled yourself further around him, getting as close to his body as you possibly could; arms curling around his shoulders and to his back where you pawed at his wrinkled dress shirt. In a desperation to feel his skin against yours your left hand wormed it's way back to his front where you went to the task of very uncoordinatedly unbuttoning the remainder of his shirt.

You only got one button undone before he disconnected himself from your lips to lean back on his arms to watch you undress him. It was a much easier task now that you didn't actively have his tongue down your throat but the absence of him had your hands shaking with a terrifying need to have him like that again. Once you had his shirt completely unbuttoned your hands danced freely across his torso, pushing his shirt to fall against his sides. Despite your desperate need to have him close you sat back on your heels to get a better look at him.

He was a mess. Hair sticking up at all angles thanks to your avaricious hands, glasses totally fogged up where they balanced precariously on the edge of his nose and he was completely and utterly flushed all the way down to where your hands raked through the coarse hair beneath your fingers. At this point it was incredibly likely that he was wearing more of your lipstick than you were, having it smeared sporadically across his face, neck and collar. If you squinted you swore you could see the faint shimmer of lipgloss in some places. But even through his punch-drunk expression you could see the trepidation in his face as you admired his body. You knew that this was something that he was self conscious about and you weren't really surprised that he felt that way here, even with your hands exploring the soft planes of loving flesh below you.

Clearly there was a part of him that thought you would recoil and reject him after seeing his body. So obviously you were quick to dash such thoughts, quelling and silencing his doubts by shifting your body downward to circle a nipple heatedly with your tongue, pushing his shirt down and off his shoulders. He groaned loud and unashamedly as his left hand made it's way back to your hip, rocking you forward into his hardening cock. You moaned around the nipple in your mouth, teeth grazing lightly against the areola as you withdrew, a silent promise. You greeted his other breast with the same treatment as your hands fondled the soft paunch of his stomach before crawling back up to grope at his left bicep, keeping your left hand on his chest to tangle in the hair there as your mouth worked it's way back up his body. You kissed him breathlessly when you met his mouth again; lips, tongues and teeth clashing together without any real coordination.

Pulling back, you admired your work. Stan was a downright wreck beneath you. His chest heaved, breathing somewhat unevenly as he tried to catch his breath. The trail of love bites had grown, mapping the expanse of his chest where you had spent the last several minutes exploring intimately. His eyes were unfocused when they met yours, just barely visible from where his eyelids were hooded from pleasure. The slow grind of your hips together seemed to be doing a lot for him, the tension slowly oozing out of his expression when you let your weight drop further onto him and the now uncomfortable tent in his slacks. This earned you a raw tremulous groan against your collarbone followed by a ‘fucking christ’ moaned salaciously into the air of your bedroom.

“Fucking hell (Y/N).”

You continued your steady rocking, a deliberate but steadfast saw against his clothed length as Stan ripped the remainder of his shirt off. Slowly, you felt Stan's hands slinking up your back, his fingers weaseling their way under the straps of your dress at your shoulders. His mouth finding your right one, placing hot open mouthed kisses up to your ear and speaking lowly into it.

“Ya mind if I take this off Sugar?”

His voice was nothing but a sticky sweet drawl in your ear, taking on a scandalous air as you felt his lips brush against your jaw as you nodded your consent.

“Please.”

You released him from your grasp as he hauled the short ensemble up and over your body, tossing it to the floor carelessly.

“Wouldn't have minded fuckin ya in that little thing but I just had to see ya.”

Your face burned bright red at his admission, face open with an expression of shock at the lewdness of his statement. He positively grinned at your reaction, all cat-that-caught-the-canary with his canines on full display.

“Was thinking about it all night. S’why I did what I did. Supposed to go out to drinks with a friend all friendly-like and then she shows up in a hot little dress like that and chatting up the locals?”

It was your turn for your breath to catch in your throat as he dragged a large warm hand up your torso to cup your left breast through your bra. His grin only grew wider as he leaned in closer to place a trail of lingering kisses towards your heaving bust.

“Enough to drive a man crazy."

His hot breath fanned between the valley of your breasts, before unceremoniously sticking his face between them. You slapped his shoulder admonishingly, scolding him without any real bite. You both laughed as he settled further into your bosom which immediately turned into a wanton moan on your part when Stan’s fingers deftly unclasped your bra and he fastened his mouth over a pert nipple. Following your earlier attentions to himself; he razed his teeth around your areola while maintaining eye contact with you. You could feel sweat beading at your browline as you struggled to keep his gaze as his eyes bore into your own voraciously, tongue dragging slowly across your naked chest. Throwing your head back and closing your eyes, you gave yourself into his ministrations. You found yourself unable to think past the feeling of Stan’s hands and lips on your body. Your body sizzling in building pleasure.

Your body felt so hot under his hands, his grasp all encompassing as they groped and pawed at your exposed torso. The sheer size of his hands was further accentuated as your own smaller ones came up to bring both of his palms to your breasts. Stan simpered lecherously at you as he squeezed both your tits in his fingers. Using your grip on his wrists you began to grind slowly and steadily against his lap. You expected Stan to reciprocate immediately but it would seem that despite his obvious pleasure in your movements, displayed by the loud shuddering moans that were being sung directly into your ear, his body did not physically respond. Stan had been distracted by something. His grip on your hips turned bruising when you stopped moving entirely, concerned with Stan’s immobility.

“Stan? You doin okay?”

You had pulled back entirely to meet his face, attempting to get a read on the expression there. All you were met with was a sleazy grin that made you more hot and bothered than you were actively willing to admit.

“Don’t mind me Dollface, m’just enjoyin the view.”

You looked questioningly at him before he took your face in his right hand and tilted your head to look at the opposing wall from where you sat astride him.

Oh. That’s right. You had a vanity there, a vanity with a very large mirror. That’s what made Stan pause, seeing your positions in the mirror behind you. You blushed furiously when your eyes met Stan’s again, breathing labored.

Suddenly your position was flipped and Stan had hauled you up and around to sit on his lap, now facing the mirror head on. You had no choice but to look upon your own reflection as Stan held your head in place by wrapping a strong hand around your jaw.

“I think we paint a pretty picture. Don’t you?”

You watched, your face turning several shades of red, as Stan wrenched both of your legs over his now spread thighs. Stan’s right hand made it’s way to take the previous place of his left, loosely fitting around your jaw as he laid hot wet kisses up the exposed skin of your right shoulder, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh. You nearly sobbed, the pain in your shoulder merely adding fuel to the fire of your burning arousal as your hand shot out to grapple onto the forearm between your breasts.

Physically seeing Stan have his way with you had your head reeling, moaning wantonly as Stan sucked another dark mark into the side of your neck. Your mouth hung open, completely slack jawed as you watched Stan deliberately and achingly slow move his left hand down towards the apex of your thighs, cupping your panty clad sex with all five fingers.

“Oh god Stanley.”

Jerking your head reflexively as you tried to look away from the erotic scene before you, feeling entirely overwhelmed, but Stan’s hand kept you firmly in place and forced you to watch as he lazily pulled your panties aside. Even in the dark of your room you could very clearly see your own evident arousal as it softly glistened in the moonlight. You watched with rapt attention, nerves strung high and inconceivably tight as Stan used his fore and middle fingers to spread you open, exposing your core fully to his line of sight. He said nothing but breathed heavily into your ear as his fingers traced up and down your folds teasingly.

“Ya still mad at me?”

God you could hit him, you wanted that smug self satisfied smirk off of his face. He was asking for forgiveness while he was actively torturing you, his fingers just barely grazing against your clit. You let out a pitiful frustrated whine as you tried fruitlessly to cant your hips towards his fingers; your position over his thighs making such a move impossible. You guess he pitied you, or simply didn’t have the patience for his own teasing; pulling your back flush to his chest and finding your poor neglected clit with his thumb and rubbed small slow circles over it.

“Ya look real good like this Sweetheart.”

You could barely hear Stan's voice next to you as your pulse thrummed in your ears, making him sound as if he was talking from the moon. The low timbre of his tone sent a rattling shiver down your body and made your hands shake desperately where you held him. You felt him chuckle, his breath filtering through your hair as his grip on your jaw tightened; offering no escape from witnessing him sink the middle finger of his left hand into your molten sex. There was no preamble and no resistance and he slid the entirety of the digit into your cunt. You were so wet that when he experimentally crooked a finger it was accompanied by an incredibly indecent squelch that had you squirming in his lap. Your grip tightened on his forearm and your nails bit into his skin as he pulled his finger out to the tip and then sunk painfully slow back to the knuckle. He made a contented hum in his throat when you moaned pornographically. He kept his head perched on your right shoulder as he watched you through the mirror, eyes occasionally catching yours as he forced you to watch your coupling. A mean chuckle left him as he plunged a second finger into your dripping sex and curled them into a come hither motion, tearing an unflattering wounded sound from your chest.

“Yer easy.”

There was a stupid chummy smile on his face when he said it, he pushed his head past your shoulder so he could angle himself to look at you. You couldn't stand his smugness; snagging him in a kiss, which he allowed, even at the awkward angle. The hand the was clasped around your jaw smoothed down your front to palm a breast, pinching a nipple between his fingers as his hips bucked involuntarily against your ass. Stan groaned loudly against you, the sound reverberating between your teeth as he whimpered somewhat pathetically into your mouth. You smiled against him, teeth bumping and clicking together against his own.

“What was that about being easy?”

Eyes sparkling and filled with mischief where they met his in the mirror as you dragged your hand through his hair. He huffed a small sound at you.

“Shut yer yap.”

You grinned even wider, feeling victorious as he ground his hips against you and fingered you in time. You watched him, spellbound as his fingers disappeared and reappeared in and out of your core at a leisurely pace, his thumb swirling slow tight circles around your sensitive clit. Stan's eyes were intense, trained in on his own movements reflected in the mirror before you. His mouth having abandoned its task of placing teasing kisses up your neck and shoulder to hang open in an awed trance as he watched where his fingers disappeared into your wet heat. Stan let out an all-too-loud delicious shuddering groan into your ear before ramping up the force behind each thrust of his fingers.

On the next upstroke he crooked his fingers just so, dragging the pads of his fingers across the now overly sensitive walls of your sex, barely grazing the spot that had your stomach seizing in sudden pleasure. You both felt and saw Stan grin wide against your skin as his left hand came around your right thigh, wrenching your legs open further over his legs for the onslaught. Now that he had a completely unobstructed view of your glistening cunt he wrapped the full thickness of his right arm around your middle, securing you to his chest as he very suddenly ramped up the pace. He aimed the tips of his fingers at that spot over and over again, watching you writhe and squirm against his body as he set a hammering pace.

“Yer real pretty like this.”

His lips traced along the curve of your neck, teeth grazing the shell of your ear before nipping at the lobe; voice a low rasp as he spoke.

“Thought about bendin ya over my car earlier. Was real hot seein ya get mad at me like that. Love a woman who knows what she wants.”

Both your hands wound tighter around him as you attempted to ground yourself, your left had found its way back into his thick silver hair while the right grasped the meat of his forearm around your waist. God, you couldn't even begin to get a full grip on it. His arms were so muscular and thick you could hardly wrap your fingers around it. You could feel the muscles there as they flexed beneath your fingers, keeping you tight against his front where you still mindlessly squirmed against him.

Stan's nose nudged against your cheek, glasses digging into the side of your face.

“Fuck- Hell if I knew this is where we were gonna end up I'd have fucked ya right in that bar. Fucked yer pretty little brains out in that bathroom. Gave ya a real piece of my mind.”

His breath was hot against your cheeks which had flushed to feverish as you arched helplessly against him, grip tightened on his arm as your cunt clenched tightly around wide fingers.

“More-”

You gasped pathetically, eyes searching for his in the mirror. Stan chuckled lowly in your ear again, his eyes meeting yours as he slid a third thick finger into your drooling mess. An undignified moan ripped it's way through your chest at the stretch, hips bucking forward and onto his fingers wantonly. Stan's hips had started moving against your own, you weren't sure if he even noticed he was doing it. Stan's desperate rutting, showcasing his clear desire for you, paired with him jamming his fingers harshly up against that spot that had you reeling with pleasure, did it for you. Incredibly abruptly, you hit your peak. The walls of your cunt convulsing around his dexterous fingers and your back arching sharply against his chest as you borderline screamed out his name. Mind blank, eyes seeing nothing but pulsing white hot pleasure.

Stan watched as your eyes rolled back, heady moans of his name tearing it's way out into the cool air of your bedroom. The pace slowed substantially but his skillful digits worked you through it until your legs started twitching from overstimulation, his movements grinding to a halt within you. With Stan's fingers still knuckle-deep in your pussy you used the grip you still had in his hair to pull him in for a blistering kiss. The angle was entirely awkward and hurt your neck a little and you weren't exactly one hundred percent back in control of your faculties but it was good. As long as you were kissing him. You cooed deeply into his mouth when he removed his fingers from your sopping cunt with an embarrassing squelch; immediately feeling lost at the empty feeling. Pulling back a bit, you met Stan's eyes again. His expression was molten; looking at you with burning eyes and the ghost of a smirk on his lips that widened into a grin as he watched your eyelids droop.

“That good?”

You huffed against his cheek and turned back to rest your body against his again, pinching his arm lightly in retaliation as he tilted his head at you in the mirror and tutted. You were so preoccupied with chiding him for his behavior you didn't notice his now free hand creeping up your body until it reached your face, hovering before your mouth. You could feel Stan's heavy breaths as he leaned some of his weight on you to speak lowly into your ear again.

“Y’wanna taste?”

You felt scandalized, heat rising to your cheeks at the lewd nature of his offer. Even so, you nodded dumbly against him as you stared back at him in the mirror and then at his glossy fingers; still drenched with the evidence of your orgasm. Slick fingers pressed against the seam of your lips as they opened obediently, slipping in both his middle and ring finger to the second knuckle. He held them there, very still as he sought you out in the mirror, not content with being unable to see the scene in front of him. You waited for him, without much patience. Only wrapping your lips around his two fingers once his gaze found your own and then proceeding to suck them further into your mouth. Stan let out a long shuddering groan and leaned his head against your shoulder. Still maintaining eye contact in the mirror ahead, you grasped his wrist tightly with both of your much smaller hands as you swirled your tongue around his fingers, sliding them deeper into your mouth. You could taste yourself on them, the tangy aftermath of the pleasure he brought you only moments ago. Stan’s fingers flexed briefly in your mouth. His fingertips lightly tapping against the end of your throat and making you gag. You took the time to bite at his fingers as he withdrew, grazing your teeth against both digits as they left the confines of your mouth with a pop. Stan’s mouth was still hanging open in an awestruck look when he brought both his thumb and forefinger to his own mouth and licked the remainder of your slick off of them, sucking loudly and humming almost thoughtfully at the taste.

“Two fer you and two fer me.”

Stan smacked his lips together noisily and ran his tongue over them as you rolled your eyes at him in response. He didn’t give you the room to quip back at him as he hastily reached in between your legs to undo his slacks. You watched intently as he popped open the two buttons and pulled the zipper down tooth by tooth, clearly finding your intense interest amusing. This didn’t last as you pushed his hands out of the way to shove his pants and boxers down just enough to freely fish out his painfully hard cock. It was pulsing in your hand as you delicately wrapped your fingers around him, tip a pretty pink color and leaking precum freely. Stan grunted in the back of his throat as you ran your thumb across it. You whined pathetically when Stan tore your hands away from him, replacing your hand with one of his own so he could line himself up with your greedy drooling cunt. His other arm braced you against his chest, lifting you just above the tip on his waiting cock.

An incredibly long obscene moan tore through you as his dick parted your folds and he sank into you. There was a delicious numb feeling buzzing around in your skull as Stan let your weight drop back onto him at an agonizing pace until you sat flush in his lap again.

“Fuuuuuuuck.”

Stan breathed heavily into your ear as he let you adjust to the size of him. The fullness you felt at the weight of him inside you was overwhelming. The oversensitive walls of your sex clamping down on inch by delicious inch as Stan used both of his hands to lift you up by your hips up his length before letting you drop back down. A wounded sound left your throat at the movement, though it was overshadowed by the deafening pleasured moan that ripped it's way through Stan's chest. The sound physically shook you in Stan's arms, making your teeth rattle. He made it again when he repeated the motion, forcefully dragging you up and down the breadth of his length. He made a wheezing sound when you used what little strength you had in your legs in this position to bounce yourself in his lap. His grip on you turned bruising when you took the time to lift yourself up and off of him completely so you could position yourself on your knees above him. You could faintly see the small bruises beneath his fingers where they dug into the flesh on your hips as you snapped yourself back down onto his girth. Your hands found their place atop his as you bounced frantically, your head whipping back towards his to seek out his lips in a desperate kiss. An animal hunger consumed you as your mouths molded together aimlessly, tongues laving against one another and teeth clicking through labored breathing. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, a white hot line burning it's way down your spine and to the cradle of your hips where you rose and fell rhythmically on Stan's cock. You practically howled, clawing at Stan mindlessly when he plucked you up in his grasp, halting your movements entirely and stood. You would have found it vaguely impressive that he still had the strength to move you around like that even through being completely wrecked, but all you could think about was how he wasn't inside of you and how much you needed him to be. Forcing you to stand with him, he corralled you until he was pinning you against the desk of your vanity.

The heat radiating off of Stan's body behind you was overwhelming as he let your panties drop to the floor below before kicking your legs apart to stand between them. His grip on your waist faltering in lieu of taking his cock in hand to line it up with your entrance. You had a much clearer view being this much closer to the mirror. You could see everything from this angle; the long line of love bites and hickeys that mapped your neck and chest, the four small evenly spaced circular bruises on your right hip and then Stan's wild eyes looking right back at you hungrily in the mirror before you. Your eyes willingly followed his gaze down your body to where he held his cock in hand, flushed and leaking openly as he guided it through your folds torturously slow. A pathetic, wounded whimper punched it's way out of your throat as he bottomed out, tip threatening to kiss your cervix.

“M’yeah that's better now ain't it sweetheart?”

Stan murmured into the meat of your shoulder. Teeth making their presence known against your skin and drawing your attention from watching his cock, snug between your legs, to his face in the crook of your neck. He was completely still within your body, save for the insistent throbbing of his length. He took a deep shuddering breath against your shoulder before arching his hips to slide out of you, subsequently reversing the motion to push back into your fluttering cunt. Your hands found purchase on the edge of the vanity, gripping tight as you whimpered Stan's name.

The pace was agonizing. Stan was very purposefuly dragging out each and every thrust against the gummy walls of your sex, making you feel every inch of him. The tenseness in his squared shoulders and the set of his jaw told you that he was holding back, clearly trying to keep his focus on being a tease and thoroughly wrecking you than desperately plowing into you like he wanted to. You saw his jaw tick, brows pinching together as he watched your mouth drop in a salacious moan at a particularly good twist of his hips.

“St- Ah Stan you gonna go faster or can your hip not take it?”

You remarked cheekily, grinning at him in your reflection. He said nothing, merely leering at you in the mirror before bringing both his hands down on the vanity next to yours, effectively caging you in. The position pushed you further into the desk and left you little room to meet his thrusts.

“Big talk comin from you Sugar. I gotcha right where I want ya. Not much you can do ‘bout it but take it.”

His voice was thick with lust and nothing but a low husk in your ear, sending shudders down the length of your spine. Your brains were mush in your head as he steadily plowed his way through your willing body. The mind was weak but it seemed the body was weaker as you let him have his wicked way with you with little protest. Despite his previous sentiments and obvious intent to torture you sexually, his pace did amp up a little. It went somewhat casually from a crawl to a minor jog, still keeping the long, deep and punctuated thrusts on each cant of his hips. Your head was spinning and you felt off kilter as Stan brought his left hand back to your body, groping a scathing trail from your breasts down to your navel, the tip of his index finger just barely touching where you wanted it most. Not being able to take anymore of the torment, you brought your right hand up and twisted it into his hair to bring him into a urgent kiss. His hips never stopped as your mouths clashed together, pushing and pulling against one another like waves on some distant shore. There was longing there, a sort of passionate gesture that had your knees feeling weaker by the second. It was an echo of the kiss you shared together in the parking lot, laced with a level of deep admiration that words simply couldn't express. You could see it reflected in his eyes, a whisp of emotion in those dark pools before a sneaky touch to your neglected clit has you throwing your head back into his broad shoulder, moaning out his name blissfully.

“How's that for handlin’ it like a man?”

Stan's voice was back to a sticky sweet drawl between pleasured grunts, breath tickling the apples of your cheeks. His lips turned up into a lecherous grin as he continued;

“I uh- think I'm handlin ya pretty well."

He played up his comment with a rough pitch of his hips into yours, his endowment reaching new depths that had your body involuntarily lurching fowards. Stan laughed meanly into your hair, repeating the motion and kicking your stance open further, his balls slapping loudly against your inner thighs on each upthrust.

“After all y’said I could have ya in any way I wanted.”

You could barely hear Stan's voice over the blood rushing in your ears, just passing through on its way to the more southern parts of your body. In a sudden swell of emotion, you felt the urge to further entagle yourself in the object of your desires; the hand that was currently white knuckling the edge of the desk below you latched onto Stan's hand. In an almost animal urgency you intertwined your fingers with his.

Those beautiful brown eyes snapped up to yours at the intimate gesture. Your hand tightened in his hair, tugging a bit and drawing a gasp from him.

“Stanley please make me yours.”

You pleaded with him, eyes watery and wanting. Stan groaned loudly into your hair, spitting out a curse as his grip on you tightened and he started fucking you in earnest. All caution and grace was thrown completely to the wind as Stan plowed into you from behind. The rhythmic slapping of skin against skin has become obscene and far more frequent as his cock spearheaded it's way into your pussy at a near splintering pace. You cried out shamelessly as Stan's index finger came to life on your clit, pulling a wanton shriek from the depths of your throat. The cacophony of moans and groans added to the chorus of explitives that resounded in the dark of your bedroom. Your vanity banged harshly against the wall at the force of Stan's thrusts, you knew there would most likely be bruises ftom where he had your hips pinned against the ledge. Soon his pace became frenetic, his body slamming into yours in a way that made your cunt sing, pleasure zipping up your body and fizzing and popping in your sex addled brain. You mindlessly gasped and chanted his name in tune with the slapping of his hips into yours. An obscene sound left your chest when Stan's hand left your clit to paw roughly at a breast, forcing you to arc further into him. You whined hopelessly into his neck, nipping and laving your tongue against the skin you could reach from such an angle. It was when your teeth scraped across his collar that he truly lost his composure.

The world was spinning and you were now it Stan's front. Before you could even begin to regain any semblance of balance from the vertigo you were feeling, Stan had pushed your torso to lay flat against the desk, his hands forcing your legs to circle his hips as he hit home inside of you.

He was much closer than before, a mimicry of your earlier positions in your living room, save the hairbrush digging into your back. The brief recess did nothing to stop Stan’s brutal tempo, he was well and truly railing into you now. His glasses were nearly hanging off his face, being jolted minutely by the force of his movements as he fucked you within an inch of your life. The expression he wore was strained, as if he was just barely staving off his end as much as you were yours. One that you were currently hurdling towards at mach fuck, getting closer and closer between each powerful plunge of Stan's cock into your bruising body. Every move was accentuated by a loud wet plap, skin meeting skin and the drooling mess of your greedy cunt sucking Stan in as far as he could go. You saw starbursts of bright white behind your eyes on every punch up into your cervix, it was just shy of painful and probably would have been if you weren't so high up in the clouds. Stan rode you into oblivion, a nothing short of pornographic moan leaving your mouth as you were robbed blind by the single best orgasm you'd had in your entire life, given to you by the man you loved with every fibre of your burning body. That word alone sprung you into action, desperately grasping at Stan's head to bring him further into you to kiss him. The coordination was off as you were both a moaning mess as he continued to dutifully plow into you frenetically through your earth shattering climax. His glasses dug into your cheek again as your jaws worked together. The endearment you felt deep in your chest and the haze of pleasure physically ripped those three little words from you, baring your most guarded secret to the dark of your room as you tore your lips away almost violently from Stan’s. You looked him in the eyes as the words tumbled tumultuously out.

“I love you Stanley.”

The weight of your words left Stan physically reeling, the realization of what you said leaving him breathless and at the whims of his own body. A rapturous moan left Stan's aching form, slamming forward into your spasming cunt one final time before spilling his load within the deepest part of you. Your face felt hot, vaguely aware of yourself as you felt a warm, steady trickle within you through Stan's shallow grind as your walls continued to pulse rapidly; milking Stan for everything he was worth through the last waves of your orgasm. His lips found yours again in the fray, shoving his tongue into the depths of your mouth to entwine with yours passionately, muffling the pleasured cries clawing their way up his throat. You both continued like that, kissing and moaning against each other's lips while riding out your respective highs. There was a thin trail of saliva connecting you when Stan pulled away, his grinding coming to a halt inside of you as his length went flaccid. He let one of your legs drop on his waist to bring his hand up to your face, caressing your cheek affectionately and gently thumbing away the tears that had slipped out. There was that look on his face again, the same one he gave you in the parking lot but this time there was no shame hiding the brilliance of it. It was love you realized as he closed the gap between you again, bringing you in for a sweet kiss. One that was all at odds with the savagery he fucked you with just moments ago but had you melting all the same. The look was softer when you laid back, pulling at your heartstrings as you stared longingly back at him. His fingers brushed away the hair plastered against your forehead before laying a kiss on your brow. You smiled as you took his face in your hands, softly stroking your thumbs over his cheekbones.

“Say it again.”

Stan's voice was a whisper against your wrist, barely registering in your sexed out brain if not for his lips moving. Tilting your head and smiling wider at him you repeated yourself.

“I love you Stanley.”

Surging upwards, you peppered his face with chaste kisses. Each kiss accompanied by another repeat of your admission. Your truth. You kissed his cheeks, his forehead, the tip of his nose where you thoughtfully righted his glasses before meeting his lips again. The kiss was just as soft as the last, pouring all the energy you had left in your tired abused body to express your undying love for him against his lips. When you broke again his eyes were sparkling. He took your face between his calloused fingers and whispered your name in a reverence that made your heart tremble.

“(Y/N)”

He kissed you again before saying what you already knew.

“I love you.”

His eyes shone wet with unshed tears at his admission, the weight of the truth finally releasing him. You wiped away a stray tear as he blinked in an effort to dispell them. Briefly he tried to apologize and you shushed him for it. For love needed no apology. After a bit more kissing and loving caresses he stood, carefully pulling out of you. You whined softly at the loss of him before being stunned to silence at the feeling of his cum slowly oozing out of you. Catching the struck dumb look on your face Stan grinned lecherously at you before picking you up to shuffle the both of you into the bathroom at the end of your hallway. He let your body down delicately to rest on the ledge of the sink. Switching on the light as he got to work, grabbing and running a washcloth under the faucet behind you to tenderly clean you up. His touch was soft and fleeting as he cleaned up his mess, getting briefly distracted by watching a deluge of his spend drip out of you and onto your thighs and the counter below. He swiped a caring, perhaps a bit wandering, hand against your folds, wiping away the evidence of your coupling. He threw the now soiled washcloth into the laundry basket just outside the bathroom door. You snorted when his back cracked in several places as he straightened out his posture, a hand on his hip.

“Old man.”

You admonished without any bite, eyes crinkling as you smiled fondly at him as he turned back to you. He smiled back at you, settling his hands on the counter on either side of you.

“Watch it Sweetcheeks. Pretty sure this old man just made an absolute mess outta ya.”

The apples of your cheeks burned red, swatting at his shoulder when his hand playfully pinched your ass. Your laughs rang through the quietness of your house, light and jovial.

“Alright Sweetheart, up and at em!”

Right hand patting your thigh affectionately, signaling you to get up. Stan stepped back to give you the space to stand, offering a hand to help you. Unfortunately your body didn't quite have the kind of coordination you were used to having, finding your legs entirely useless the second your heel hit the floor. You crashed headfirst into the bulk of Stan's chest ahead of you as you flailed helplessly, throwing your hands out in from of you in an attempt to catch your inevitable fall. Thankfully Stan was in his right mind enough to catch you without much of a fuss, hauling you against his front. You peeked up at him, hands against his broad chest as it heaved with laughter.

“Fucked ya so good yer legs ain't workin huh?”

You pouted at his teasing, still somewhat embarrassed of your tumble. Lips turning into a smirk as you pinched his nipple between your fingers.

“Hey! That ain't too nice of ya.”

The mirth in his eyes told you he wasn't really upset with you, glinting with mischief as he abruptly swung you over his shoulder, being mindful to not smack your head against the wall. You shrieked, followed by a fit of giggles when he smacked your ass. You spent the short trip from your bathroom to the bedroom pinching at his sides and kissing at the skin of his back as your head swayed with his gait. He was back on you the second your back hit the bed, pulling you into his arms and drawing the covers over the two of you. It was a shuffle of limbs as you both wiggled to find a position that worked for both of you. The scuffle ended with you both facing one another on your sides, Stan's left arm under your neck and his right wrapped securely around your waist. Adjacently, you had your arm slung loosely around his waist while your right laid between you on his chest, playing with the coarse hair beneath your fingers. You took a moment to tangle your legs with his, draping a leg over his hip and shimming closer. Stan sighed softly, his left hand coming up to comb through your hair, casually twirling it around his deft digits. You watched him admirably from your position as he preened a bit over the marks he left on you, a self satisfied look on his face. You just smiled, bringing your hand from his chest to his face to bring him down for another kiss.

The way he interacted with you in the afterglow was all sugary sweet. Even sweeter when he pulled you into his chest and placed a kiss on the crown of your head, whispering sentiments of love and admiration that had your insides feeling gooeir than they already were.

“G’night Toots.”

He murmured against your scalp as he pressed another kiss there, coiling his body around you in a warm embrace. You lifted yourself up to leave a kiss on his nose. He cracked an eye open at you, a slight rictus appearing at the corner of his mouth. Not being able to get enough of him, you initiated another kiss. He let you draw him into you, meeting you easily in a lingering kiss.

“Can't get enough of me eh?”

Stan grinned against your lips, his breath a soft whisper against them. Your face split into a grin, nuzzling your nose against his playfully

“Never.”

He shook his head at your antics, tired but satisfied eyes sweeping your face appreciatively.

“I love you.”

His eyes were warm, filled with nothing but tenderness, matching your smile as you finally settled down, cuddling up to him.

“I love ya too ya big sook. Now lemme sleep.”

You pushed at his shoulder chidingly but ultimately relented, letting him tow you further into his arms so he could use you as a glorified teddy bear. It was okay though, you had every intention of giving him the same treatment; which you did, hugging his waist tighter as you drifted aloft. Letting the slow circles Stan was drawing on your gip and the steady drum of his heartbeat under your ear lull your exhausted but content body into a peaceful slumber.

#gravity falls #stan pines #i love him your honor #stan pines x reader #stanley pines #gravity falls x reader #stan pines x you

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