#i was like yes of course i will IF you promise me you’ll never surprise a person on a treadmill ever again

[fingertipsmp3]

I swear to god everything from the weather to my equipment to my neighbours to my own fucking body is conspiring to make sure I don’t get a good run this week

[atypicalamortentia]

They Think You're Cheating On Them/Jealousy

Synopsis - The hogwarts legacy boys think you're cheating on them/they get jealous.

Warnings - Mentions of sex/sexual acts.

Note - All characters aged up to 18+!

Word Count - 1.8k.

{Caffeinate Me}

SEBASTIAN SALLOW is toxic as fuck. He thinks you're cheating on him the moment you say ‘hello’ to another guy. Hell, he even has his suspicions about your relationship with Ominis from time-to-time. This time it was because Leander asked you what the potions homework was. Sebastian had stalked you out of the classroom and pulled you into an empty broom cupboard, pressing your back against the wall, snarling at you. “What was it this time?” He snapped, arm closing you in against the wall. 

You immediately knew what he was talking about and rolled your eyes. “He just asked me what the potions homework was.”

“Yeah, sure,” Sebastian scoffed as he rolled his eyes. 

“I’m being serious Sebastian,” you said. Your voice held a stern tone hoping he would see how irrational he was being.

“So what? You were just talking to him?” He asked, voice sounding unconvinced. 

“Yes!” 

“Psht, sure, if that’s what you call your mouth around another man’s cock then that’s what it was,” Sebastian snapped. 

You pushed him away from you lightly and growled. “Sebastian, you're being stupid. You’re with me all the time. Even if I wanted to cheat on you, which I don’t, I’d never have the time!”

Sebastian grinned at your statement and it seemed like you had actually gotten through to him without the usual huge argument. His hand cupped your chin and he pulled your face close to his. “You’re mine, sweetheart. You’ll do good to remember that.” Now it was your turn to scoff. You rolled your eyes as Sebastian pressed his lips to yours softly. “I only worry because I love you. I can’t lose you Y/N.” 

“You will if you keep acting like this,” you whisper between his lips. You knew that wasn’t the case though. You had it down bad for the brown-haired Slytherin. He could ‘Crucio’ you out of anger and you’d still stay with him.  

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled after a few moments. 

“It’s okay Sebastian, but you can’t keep accusing me of cheating anytime another man looks at me,” you say seriously. 

“Why don’t you let me show you just how sorry I am?” Sebastian smirks, grabbing your hand and leading you out of the broom closet and to the empty Slytherin dorm where he would show you just who you truly belong to.

OMINIS GAUNT will just talk to you about it whenever he suspects that you might be cheating on him. He’s not as insecure as Sebastian and sometimes just needs reassurance that you love him and no one else. You’re sitting in Defence Against The Dark Arts when he grabs your hand and whispers in your ear. “You love me, right?” 

You look at him with a shocked expression. Even though he couldn’t see you, you knew that he could sense your surprise. “Of course I do Ominis.”

“And you’d never cheat on me, right?” 

“Where is all this coming from?” You ask, instead of answering his question. This makes the blonde raise an eyebrow and repeat his question. 

“You’d never cheat on me, right?”

“Never!” You exclaim, squeezing his hand. “Where’s all this coming from?” You asked again. 

“Just… I heard you and Sebastian whispering to each other this morning during breakfast and I suppose,” he let out a breathy sigh. “I suppose I just got a little insecure.” 

You continue to squeeze his hand and smile at him softly. “We were talking about your birthday present,” you say. “I didn’t want you to hear what I’ve got you. That’s all.”

“Do you promise?” 

“I promise,” you said, linking your pinky finger with his. This seemed to satisfy Ominis, who leaned his head into your shoulder and hummed with approval.

GARRETH WEASLEY constantly watches the way Sebastian is around you and always thinks something is going on between the two of you, but he’s not as toxic as Sebastian is. He will make jokes about it, but sometimes he can get really insecure. The two of you were fighting when this recent comment left his lips and as soon as he said it, he regretted it. “Well why don’t you tell your boyfriend Sebastian all about it!” Garreth shouted, throwing his hands up in the air. Your eyes widened at his comment, and you were slightly hurt. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” You asked, narrowing your eyebrows.

Garreth didn’t want to admit he was in the wrong, so he continued to dig his own grave. “You heard me. Why don’t you tell your boyfriend all about it.” 

“He’s just a friend, you know that Garreth. We’ve been over this numerous times.” 

“He looks at you like a lovesick puppy!” Garreth retorted. 

“And I look at you like a lovesick puppy. Garreth, so what if he does? I’m in love with you, not him.”

“I don’t know that,” he pouted, calming down slightly at your words. 

You let out an exasperated sigh and sat down next to him on his bed, placing a hand on his thigh. “Listen, Garreth. I understand you get jealous, or insecure, whatever it is but there’s no need to throw a friendship in my face.”

It was Garreth’s turn to sigh next as he realised how stupid he was being. “Yeah. I suppose you're right.”  

“I’m sorry… What was that?” You asked, placing your hand by your ear.

Garreth grinned at your joking demeanour. Even when you were arguing you would still attempt to joke with him. “Shut up.”

“No seriously. You said I was what? Right?” 

Garreth pushed you on the shoulder lightly until you fell back on to his bed. He quickly climbed on top of you and pressed soft kisses to your neck. “Yes. Yes. You’re right. I’m sorry.” 

“You are forgiven,” you smile, a soft gasp leaving your lips as his cold lips touch your warm neck. He certainly showed you how sorry he was that night. 

LEANDER PREWETT thinks something’s going on between you and Amit. When Amit invites you to look at the stars with him, or study, Leander puts his foot down. “No way. It’s a date. You’re my partner, not his.” 

“Leander,” you hissed at him. 

“What? No. I’m not having it.”

“It’s just a study session,” you reply sternly. 

“So you want to go? You want to leave me and be with him instead? I knew something was going on with you two, I just knew it.”

“Woah!” You exclaimed, holding your hands up in the air defensively. “What do you mean? Leander, what’s going on?” 

“You heard me,” he frowned, eyebrows pronounced.

“Yeah, but I thought I heard you insinuating that I was cheating on you?” You asked rhetorically. Leander just rolled his eyes and continued to flick through his potions book on his bed. 

“If you wanna be with him so badly then just break up with me for fucks sake,” Leander snapped, causing you to wince at his sudden harshness. 

“Leander… I don’t want to break up with you at all.”

He raised an eyebrow. You had clearly caught his attention now. He closed his potions book with a thud and looked at you in disbelief. “You don’t?”

“If I didn’t want to be with you, I wouldn’t be with you.” 

It was then that he realised he was being irrational and immediately pulled you into a bone crushing hug. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” You gulped back tears and nodded. It wasn’t like Leander to snap at you like that, ever. Even when he was angry, he would always talk it out with you first, but when it came to other men or the possibility of you cheating on him he acted first and thought about it later. “Can you forgive me?” 

You hesitated but replied, “of course I can. You just need to stop thinking I’m cheating on you whenever I hang out with somebody else. Leander, I’m not that type of person.”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry.” He pulled you closer to his body and pushed you down until you were laying on his bed. His body was pressed up against yours as he stroked your hair gently, almost soothingly. “It won’t happen again.”

“Won’t it?” You asked hopefully, even though you didn’t believe it. Leander nodded and kissed your cheek. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too, you idiot.”

AMIT THAKKAR hates the way Garreth always jokes with you and attempts to get you in on his little schemes, so much so that he thinks that you’re actually cheating on him with Garreth. One day, while you’re studying astronomy together, Garreth approaches you with a cheeky grin on his face. “Guess what I did Y/N?” Garreth said, half-singing his words. 

“Y/N doesn’t care,” Amit snapped at Garreth, causing the ginger to retreat back into the shadows from where he came. You stared at Amit, completely confused at his sudden outburst. 

“What was all that about?” You asked softly, placing a hand on his arm. 

“You’re cheating on me aren’t you? With him!” Amit accused you immediately. You sat back in your chair out of complete shock and just blinked at him. You couldn’t even justify him with an answer, but this only raised his suspicions even more. “Well?”

You could only cry out, “no!”

Amit looked slightly puzzled, as if he wasn’t expecting that answer. “You’re not?” He asked. 

“You’re really asking me that?” You snapped, feeling your blood boil with anger. How dare he accuse you like that, especially with no evidence! Amit opened his mouth to speak but you interrupted him. “You don’t get to speak right now Amit. Who do you think I am? Some whore for the whole of Hogwarts to enjoy?” 

“Well no-”

“Then why on earth do you think I’d be cheating on you?” You snapped, eyes burning a hole into his. 

“It’s just the way he acts around you… Always bringing you in on his little pranks and joking around with you like you’re best friends.” 

“We are friends. Not best friends, but we are friends,” you said sternly. “Amit, I’m allowed to have guy friends. Just like you’re allowed to have girl friends. If you don’t trust me, what’s the point in this relationship?”

“I do trust you!” He managed to rush out even though you assumed he was lying. “I don’t know what came over me. I guess I was just jealous and well, fed up of him coming on to you.”

“Next time you feel like this,just talk to me instead of blowing up at my friends,” you say. “Having doubts and worries is normal, but accusing me out of the blue isn’t.” Amit nodded at your reply and looked down at his book somewhat ashamed of himself. 

After a few moments of silent studying, Amit finally spoke up again. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me.” 

You wrapped your arm around his waist and pulled him closer to you. “Of course I can forgive you, but only if you promise me not to act this way again.”

“I promise,” he said, holding his pinky out for you to wrap yours around. You did so and smiled lovingly at him before continuing on with your ​​studies.

[pitchsidestories]

Jealousy II Patri Guijarro x León!Reader

masterlist I moodboard I word count: 2985

a/n: Hi, we hope it's not too confusing to read, the oneshot is a bit darker and more dramatic than our usual fanfics. The inspiration for the oneshot was this request here.

Carefully you applied the glamorous eye makeup you had in mind to your eye lids; you were getting ready for your older sister’s birthday party. Looking in the mirror you remembered a quote from a book you read for your English class in school beautiful little fool. According to Daisy in The Great Gatsby, it was the best thing a girl could be in this world.

You didn’t want to be a beautiful fool and didn’t yearn to be perceived as one. Another glance at your reflection and you realized you were done. Time to go to the party.

“Mapi, feliz cumpleanos, hermana!”, you greeted her grinning. Their home was almost a second home to you, you felt more at ease here than in your own appartement. You noticed Bagheera at his usual hiding space behind the window curtains, but for you he came up to get a few cuddles, before returning to it.

“Thanks, glad you could make it.”, she replied smiling, giving you a hug at the same time, pressing a grateful kiss to your cheek.

“Yes, I mean you’re getting old now, so..” ,you teased her, the grin on your face deepened.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get old soon enough, too.”, the defender promised you, laughing.

“Ugh, don’t remind me, Maria.”, you groaned playfully.

“Is that a gey hair?!”, she gasped dramatically while holding up a string of your hair to the light of the lamp.

“Girls.”, Ingrid shook amused her head. She was used to your lively banter now.

“Sorry. Is Patri here?”, you asked her curiously.

“Of course, she’s somewhere around.”, your sister waved it off.

“You can’t miss her.”, the Norwegian added winking.

“Nope, definitely nod.”, Mapi smirked.

To watch the couple, harmonize so well as they did was always a little heart wrenching to you. There was a deep fear inside you that you would never be able to find a love like they had. On the other hand, you were incredibly happy for your older sister.

“I’ve not seen her in ages, I need to say hi, I’ll come back to you soon.”, you told them excitedly.

“Sure.”, the defender answered doubtfully.

“We won’t see er again until the morning, right?”, Ingrid asked.

“Probably not.”, her girlfriend responded in an honest tone.

The truth was you were undoubtedly, terribly, madly in love with one of your siblings’ closest friends. So, you couldn’t wait to see her again. She was the guest at this party you were the most thrilled to meet again.

“Oh, hi, gorgeous.”, a flirty tone of the stranger held you back.  

“Hi, nice to meet you.”, you muttered, while your eyes searched around the living room for the face you yearned to find.

 “Very pleased to meet you. You must be Mapis sister.”, the woman purred. Her voice irritated you, she almost sounded like Bagheera.

“I’m, from where do you know my sister?”, you questioned her, only half-interested.

“Oh, we’re friends.”, she shrugged.

“I see.”, you nodded.

She held out her hand. “But we haven’t met yet.“

A bit too formal in your opinion but you still shook her hand. Why not play along for a while?

“That’s true.“, you replied politely.

“Can I get you a drink?“, the stranger asked, the corners of her mouth quirking upwards.

“Sure.“

To your surprise, she immediately grabbed your upper arm as she led you to the bar.

You frowned, the grip was too tight, too desperate.

And then you saw her.

“Y/n?“ Patri appeared right in front of you, eyeing you closely.

“Patri.“

You wished this girl would finally let go of your arm.

“Hi.“, Patri said blankly.

She was in suit pants and a half unbuttoned shirt.

“Hey, you look beautiful tonight.“, you complimented her and you meant it.

Before the midfielder could reply, the stranger tightened her grip around your arm. You sucked in a breath, this might leave a bruise.

“Let’s go outside for a bit.“, the girl said, her voice sickeningly sweet. It was less of a suggestion and more of an order.

“Okay.“, you agreed.

While the stranger led you outside to smoke, you struggled to tear your gaze away from Patri.

You watched her watching you leave until she disappeared in the crowd.

You failed to see how Claudia appeared on her teammates side, shaking her head: “You’re a fool, Patri.“

“What?“

“She so clearly has feelings for you.“, Alexia rolled her eyes, sipping on her drink.

“Y/n has asked her on dates multiple times in the past few years.“, Claudia agreed.

Patri released a sigh: “I can’t go out with her.“

“Why not?“, Lucy now joined the conversation.

“She’s Mapis sister!“, Patri pointed out the obvious.

Alexia shrugged: “Yes, and?“

Her younger teammate looked at her in exasperation: “Did you not hear what I just said?“

“Remember that Mapi dated Alba back in the day?“, Alexia countered unimpressed.

Now it was Patri who rolled her eyes: “Don’t start with this again. You can’t compare that.“

“Of course I can.“

Patri held up her hands, abandoning this conversation: “Whatever. I don’t want to talk about her.“

“Okay. Another drink?“, Claudia blinked innocently at her.

Relieved, Patri nodded: “Please!“

You had no idea when your sisters birthday party had ended. In fact, you did not remember most of the early morning hours.

When and how had you gotten home? What was that beautiful strangers name again? Where even was she?

All those questions popped into your head when a ringing on your door woke you up.

Groaning, you looked around your bedroom. You were alone, that was good.

You got up and quickly glanced into the mirror, realizing that you still wore last nights dress. There were mascara stains on your cheeks, a bruise on your arm and a slightly purpling hickey on your neck.

No time to take care of this mess, you decided. You walked through your apartment and opened the door.

Relief flooded through you as you found yourself opposite your sister and her girlfriend.

The ease you felt for a minute was erased in the next when you saw their concerned faces scanning your bruised and shambled body.

“Hi Y/n, you need to stop. We worry about you.”, Ingrid begun, sounding deeply worried.

“What do you mean?”, you asked confused while the two women made their way through your appartement.

“You know exactly what we mean.”, Mapi answered frustrated.

“A little party never killed nobody.”, you defended yourself half-heartedly. Meanwhile, your sister and her girlfriend were taking place on your sofa, you were sitting in between them.

“That’s not a little party.”, the defender disagreed.

“And y/n you deserve to be loved for you as a person not only because of your looks.”, Ingrid softly strokes your hair.

“I’m fine.”, you protested.

“Y/n it’s okay. Ingrid is right.”, Mapi told you compassionately.

“But.”, you started, your lips trembling. Memories from last night came back in pieces.

The way the beautiful stranger only used you like a piece of furniture to satisfy her needs and ignored your thoughts and feelings behind your pretty façade. How she couldn’t wait to leave once you showed your longing for more than just touches but a real connection. The scary thought you had when you heard the door slammed shut, maybe you deserved the way you were treated. Maybe love was something that only happened to people who were worthy of it.

“Come here.”, Ingrids warm voice brought you back to the present moment.

“My girls.”, your older sister whispered gratefully, while she and the Norwegian pulled you into a tight, long hug, hoping that one day you realized that you were worthy of love for the person you were even with your faults who sometimes led to self-destructive behaviour.

“Can you let me go now?”, you questioned smiling lightly.

“Yes, before this gets too cute.”, Mapi laughed, releasing you from her hug.

In the passing weeks you tried to break the pattern you were in, meeting more of your friends for a cup of coffee, going to less parties, seeing a psychologist. The changes you made didn’t get unrecognized by Patri who watched you doing this from a comfortable distance.

It was at the end of a media day, the league would start soon again,  that Patri announced: “I think I’ll accept y/n’s date offer, girls.”

“What?!”, Claudia yelled excitedly.

“Yes.”, she confirmed it seriously.

“But why now?”, the smaller woman raised an eyebrow at her.

 “Yeah, what changed?”, Keira wanted to know.

“I don’t know.”, Patri responded truthfully.

“That’s okay.”, Lucy reassured her.

The midfielder’s heartbeat faster as she spotted you hugging your sister. Her heart sank when  the brunette heard the next words coming from your mouth.

 “Girls, I’ve a date, I think she’s serious.”, you cheered.

“You do?”, Mapi glanced at you happily.

“Yes, we’ll go out tomorrow. Fancy dinner and when a bar.”, you went on delighted.

“Sounds great.”, she admitted.

“We’re happy for you, y/n.”, Ingrid beamed at you.

“Thanks.”, you couldn’t help, but to smile at the possibility to have found the one.

You ignored as the other half of the team got quiet, listening to your conversation.

“Fuck.“, Patri cursed under her breath.

“Wow… you have really horrible timing.“, Claudia sighed, her gaze still fixed on you.

Patri nodded slowly: “We do..“

“Maybe you shouldn’t tell her then.“, Keira suggested the obvious which Patri rewarded with an eye roll.

“I won’t.“

“Maybe it’s better that way.“, Claudia said.

“Yes, maybe.“, Patri sighed.

However, she was not ready to give up yet.

She and Mapi met on the next day for some coffee, unbeknownst to you.

“What do you mean the date went horrible?“, Patri asked, slowly stirring milk into her coffee to avoid seeming too eager about what Mapi just told her.

Mapi shrugged: “Oh, apparently she only talked about her ex during the date.“

“In front of her?“

Nodding, the defender took a sip from her cup: “Y/n got bored after thirty minutes and left.“

“Understandable.“, Patri said quietly.

“It’s sad. I had hoped she would have finally found someone for a serious relationship.“, Mapi continued.

The midfielder could read the genuine worry in her teammates face.

She decided to lay it all bare.

“I was so close to accepting her offer but then this new girl came…“

Mapi choked on her coffee.

“Wait, what?“, she asked between two coughs.

Patris gazed was trained on the small wooden table between the two football players: “Yes, I know…“

“Why?“, was the defenders only question.

“I didn’t want to give in because you’re her sister and we are friends…“, she admitted.

Mapis eyes softened as she studied the younger player: “Patri… if you love her, go out with her.“

Patri looked up in surprise: “That would be okay for you?“

“Of course. If you really love her.“

“I do…“

“Then ask her out. She deserves someone who doesn’t just see her looks.“

“She’s not perfect but no one is…“, Patri said more to herself than to her teammate.

“Patri.“

“Yeah?“

“That’s not what a person wants to hear after she told you that you could be the one for her sister.“, Mapi laughed.

Blushing, the midfielder grinned innocently: “Sorry.“

“You still have my blessing.“, the defender chuckled.

“Thanks.“

You walked through Barcelona, Alexia next to you. You had not felt like talking to your sister about the date but you knew you could trust Alexia with the details. And she was more than willing to listen.

You were in the middle of explaining of what you did after you left the restaurant when a familiar face appeared in front of you.

You stopped yourself mid-sentence: “Patri? Hi…“

“Hey, do you have a second?“

You stalled. She was out of breath, had seemingly been looking for you.

You looked at Alexia, then back at Patri: “I do…“

“Good.”, she sighed relieved.

“So?”, you rose an eyebrow expectantly.

“Would you go out on a date with me y/n?”, the Mallorquin woman asked, licking her lips nervously.

“Wait, are you serious?”, you gasped. Almost couldn’t believe that this question came from her mouth.

“I was never more serious.”, you could see the determination in the midfielder’s pretty brown eyes.

“I’m asking because whenever I asked you.. you said no.”, you tried to put the hesitation you felt into words.

“I thought Mapi wouldn’t approve of this. And Mapi means a lot to me as a friend.”, Patri explained.

“But she did?”

Something like hope flattered inside your chest. Was this just a dream, you hoped it wasn’t and if it was it hopefully would never end. This being realer and better when whatever you’ve imagined in so many sleepless nights when sleep couldn’t find you and the yearning for her overcame you.

 “Mapi did.”, the friend of your older sister confirmed earnestly.

“I really liked you for a long time.”, you confessed.

“I know but I was scared. And I wasn’t sure if you meant it because you’re always with someone else.”, the brunette admitted.

“Yes, I guess I’m not good at this kind of stuff.”, you guiltily bit your lip.

“Maybe we can figure it out together.”, she suggested carefully.

“Okay, but I’m warning you I’m not easy.”, you told her.

“I never cared for easy anyway.”, Patri reassured you.

“So, we give it a try?”, you glanced at her, waiting eagerly for her reply.

“If you’re willing to. Because you haven’t answered if you want to go on a date or not.”, she remarked.

“I want to go on a date with you.”, you smiled at her, meaning every word you said.

“Okay, but first we need to finish gossiping y/n.”, Alexia threw in grinning. The Barcelona captain has been watching everything from a safe distance until now.

“Ugh, Ale.”, Patri groaned.

“No, I’m just joking go ahead.”, she laughed.

“Can I take you on a date right now?”, the younger midfielder laid her eyes on you, it was clear from the look of her face that she couldn’t wait any longer.

“Yes, you can!”, Alexia answered for you winking.

“I didn’t ask you.”, Patri shook her head amused.

“I think it’s time for us to go.”, you decided smirking.

“Yes, please.”, she nodded happily.

“Bye, Ale.”, you waved at the older woman.

“Enjoy.”, the blonde responded cheerfully.

While you made your way through the buzzing city, the sun was about to set, the night never seemed more promising to you, as you walked hand in hand with the woman you had feelings for since forever. You always liked the city your sister chose to play for, but this evening you fell in love with it. The beauty of the architecture and everything else was almost too overwhelming. Before the mass of people made you feel lonely but now you were a part of it.

“Well, were do you want to go y/n?”, Patri whispered into your ears as you passed the neighbourhood of Gracia.

“You pick. You asked me out.”, you mouthed back.

“Good, I already know a place.”

And that’s where your story begun, the first date ended with a kiss on your doorstep, but you came back for another, because it left you even hungrier. But for the first time in forever you felt safe, knowing that you’d see her again and Patri wouldn’t walk away.

The summer break came. For most of the players it was only a short period of time between the end of the season and the next games with their national team.

You and your girlfriend wanted to make the most out of your free days, enjoying the pure bliss of having no responsibilities.

That was how you found yourself on yacht with a group of people, most of which you did not know. But they seemed to know your sister which meant that some stranger always came up to you, wanting to talk when all you wanted to do was lay in the sun and sip on some cocktails.

Even the woman in charge of preparing the drinks wanted to engage you in a conversation but your replies remained monosyllabic. Once she was done pouring, you flashed her a smile and disappeared with a cup in each hand.

Patri had been watching from where she was tanning herself in the afternoon sun. As you approached her, she moved her sunglasses to the top of her head: “Y/n?“

“Yes?“, you asked, sitting down next to her.

“What are you doing?“

You shrugged, handing her one of the cups: “Just got us some drinks.“

“Why was the barkeeper staring at your tits?“

You suddenly felt uncomfortable in your bikini top and jeans cut-offs. “She has? I didn’t even notice, Patri. Everyone stares at me… always.“

You relaxed a little when Patri looked you up and down with a smirk: “I mean I get that they look at you. You’re gorgeous.“

“Can’t help it.“, you assured her again.

“But the flirting… not a big fan.“

You took a sip from your drink: “Relax, I’m yours.“

Your girlfriends eyes sparkled, challenging you: “Prove it.“

You put your drink down, pushed your girlfriend back on her towel to straddle her and kissed her passionately.

“Again?“, Patri asked, innocently blinking up to you.

“Maybe with less people to see?“, you suggested. You had the sudden urge to get away from everyone, to do more than just kiss her. You only wanted to be Patris.

You both got up. Patri took your hand in hers, leading you towards the inside of the boat.

She winked at you: “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure everyone knows that you belong to me. I’ll leave my handprints all over you.“

You smiled quietly about how right this felt. She would never get mad or freak out. If she was jealous, she made sure that everyone knew that you were her girlfriend.

You always knew that Patri could handle it.

[jeongharine]

syntax ERROR

⚝ wonwoo x reader

⚝ comedy, light smut

⚝ notes: the one where jeon wonwoo is your nerdy math tutor. but he’s unexpectedly hot. and you’re his friend’s sister. obviously. (part ii)

“a pc bang?” “yes she’s always there,” says hoshi, while munching down his sandwich.

“but i can’t teach her there-” “of course you can’t, but you’ll find her there. it’s the one on the left around the corner,”

“now, remind me why i am doing this,” “because you’re my friend and i’m fantastic at being one,”

wonwoo just gulps down his apple juice, looking at the time on his phone.

“you should change this narrative, it’s getting boring,” “wonu, i just need you to do me this favour because if she doesn’t pass this class it’ll be a problem, okay?”

a sigh. “yes, that’s fine. but only for this class okay?” hoshi grins, all teeth “you’re the best,”

“yeah.. i better be going then, i hope she’s a well-mannered student otherw-” wonwoo says, setting off.

“oh.. about that..” “what?” he stops.

“nothing, she listens well,” hoshi says, scratching the back of his head.

x

she listens well when she wants to, he should have said.

not that this a surprise for wonwoo, knowing her brother. but damn, this girl is getting on his nerves.

“okay y/n, let me be clear. your brother begged me to give you lessons, so now please can we go to the library?”

“nu-uh, i have a tournament here this afternoon. we can do another day,” you crack your fingers and re-position your chair.

“see, maybe this is why you’re not getting through this class. you can do the tournament another day, it’s more important to study matrix systems to pass the exam than gaming,”

“boooooring, i will do that tonight if i feel like it okay? i don’t need your-” you turn your chair around to face him. “...help...”

since when your brother’s friends were this handsome. holy fuck, with that cap on before you couldn’t see anything and maybe he should have kept it on for your sanity. fuck. fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. fuckity fuck.

you can see that he is deeply annoyed by your behaviour, probably he’s used to people who take academic life very seriously. nah, he’s friend with hoshi so. you scoff a laugh.

and he’s just there, looking at you, waiting for an answer.

or maybe to beg you.

“but on second thoughts...” you begin to say, “we can come to an agreement..” “that is?” he shifts in his position.

“we game for about an hour, because you game and i can see that just by looking at your face. and then, we can look at the first two chapters of maths analysis. i think this we’ll do, yes.” you grin widely.

and he hates to admit that the grinning suits you best.

wonwoo promised hoshi that he would have at least gotten through the matrix systems today with you, but here he is. without a fucking clue of what to do.

and you are just looking at him smiling prettily, as if you absolutely don’t know how charming and good-looking you are.

so wonwoo just sighs, and turns his head to glance at the pc screen near him.

even his side profile is pretty, you think to yourself.

“fine. but at least let’s play some battlegrounds.”

“can’t promise you anything,” you say pleasantly, eyes creasing in a glittering smile that suddenly makes wonwoo skittish.

x

“do you want to fuck my brains out?”

the air in his little dorm becomes unbearably stuffy all of a sudden but you refuse to let it show, after finally voicing the thoughts that were possessing your head for the past few weeks.

wonwoo turns to face you, looking far more collected. you never would have thought it would all come to a head like this in his room on a monday afternoon. but here you are, feeling a little light headed but inexplicably brave.

“i mean,” you say. “doesn’t every girl on campus you know want you to fuck their brains out?” “that you have to tell me, i don’t think i can give you an answer,” he says, piling up the books on his desk.

he starts to drum his long fingers on the cover of the statistics textbook for a good minute, eyes focused on the dusty windowsill while he is chewing on the inside of his cheek.

and it takes you a second to really make that sink in: wonwoo is restless. he is hanging on your next words.

“so, are you going to say something or you will make me wait here all afternoon?”

you smile. and he hates how his palpitations go up by a notch.

“neither. just knowing that you rubbed one out to the thought of me is closure enough to me.” he clearly tenses up. “who says i have?”

you close your textbook with a thud. “oh, don’t be embarrassed wonu. we’ve all been there at one point or another.”

he’s at the brink of being disgusted with himself for getting a hard on when you just used his nickname like that, but despite it all his heart still leaps up into his throat when you sit up from his bed and collect your bag.

“you touched yourself thinking of me?”

you look at him with one hand on the door handle and wonwoo swears his vision blurs slightly as you grin at him like that.

“you say it like you’re surprised.”

there is no build up, no easing you into the uncharted waters. he kisses open the seam of your mouth without any hesitation, the heat of your tongue against his. it feels so harsh and erotic, so completely unlike the wonwoo you just got to know.

so polite and so pleasant.

but now his hands are on you. and you haven’t had the time to realize your eyes were closed until his hands come up to palm around your waist, searching for skin while you whine against him.

your brain is foggy with the taste of him. he pulls back just as you starts to sway in his arms.

“you don’t even know...” he traces up your back. “..what you do to me, uhm?” you gulp, lips all wet.

the muskiness of him makes your head spin fast, especially when he leaves soft kisses on the skin behind your ear. his mouth is so hypnotic, every move perfectly placed.

“wonwoo,” you stammer, not knowing what else to say. your voice has gone croaky and his hand is venturing up your sweater now, not looking like it would stop any time soon.

your breath catches in your throat when wonwoo trails his fingertips over your clothed breast, dancing across it before brushing the underside. you expected his touches to be harsh, sharp. but they are slow, feather-light. practiced.

his chest heaving like he’s just run a mile, the skin of his stomach hard and hot under your fingers from where you shoved his t-shirt up. his lips are smooth when you inch up to kiss him, gently by his cupid’s bow just to make him grunt. wonwoo’s hands curl around your wrists gently, pampering you with kisses for a couple of minutes before pulling away.

“fuck me,” you whisper. and then, because he has to double take like he didn’t quite hear you right. “fuck me wonwoo, please.”

“please. please, wonu. i’m begging.”

“y/n…” wonwoo growls, because he is really close to pop a blood vessel when you sound all whiny and shameless like that.

“i don’t care if someone will hear us,” you murmur against his mouth before pressing it there for a short kiss. you proceed to trail wet pecks all over his jaw and neck, so that he has to close his eyes with a soft sigh. 

“fuck,” he whispers, “you’re really begging me to fuck you here when your brother could come back any minute,” wonwoo says, kissing you.

it’s getting difficult for you to respond when his hand ventures down to undo your jeans though, mouth hanging open in pleasure while he nips at your bottom lip before pushing you back down on his bed. 

“you have to be extra quiet, okay?” he huffs. and there is something wonderfully satisfying for wonwoo to see you like this, underneath him and all putty in his hands.

“wonu,” you whine again, accepting the soft kiss he presses on your lips before he turns you over and positions you how he wants: on your knees, ass up, face pushed into a pillow to muffle your moans.

“you’re so impatient,” he chuckles behind you, but it sounds so soft. fond, even. he pecks your ear swiftly while you listen to him sliding down your jeans and undies and prepare himself, your heart thudding in anticipation. you’re so thrilled you barely register the embarrassment and awkwardness of being left to wait like this, propped up and ready for him to fuck you stupid. and you gasp when you finally feel his erection against your weeping slit, hot and everything you want.

he keeps grinding against your slick folds. “wonwoo,” you whimper, because his tip keeps slipping in and that alone is making you gush. you push your hips back, tears blurring your sight with how desperately you want him inside you. “please.”

he chuckles softly, leaning over to kiss your shoulder before finally pushing into you.

x

“so, i assume the lessons are going well since you two see each other three times a week now,” hoshi says, voice muffled by the noodles he’s slurping.

his eyes are set on wonwoo’s face, lost in the gimbap in front of him.

because if wonwoo has to be real honest, the lessons are going really well, yes. but also his dating life.

and how can he say that to hoshi... ‘oh yeah, she’s really smart hosh and also a fucking star at giving head!’

in his defence, wonwoo would probably never get over the fact that he has succeded in pulling someone like you. he suddenly turns pink thinking about your pretty smile and your prettier laugh. the glint in your eyes when gaming together and the concentrated face you make when trying to understand math concepts that even he has difficulties in teaching. you clinging onto his arm, the late night ramen runs at the convenience store and your honeyed sighs and moans when you’re in the private of your own.

so yeah, he doesn’t really know where to start with this.

“wonu-yah?” hoshi hisses, and suddenly wonwoo gulps when his friend is holding his stare in a vice grip.

“we’re fucking hosh,” he admits timidly, and hoshi starts swearing.

[cosmicpearlz]

flavored kisses

summary: in which you wear a different flavored chapstick everyday and your boyfriend xavier loves it.

pairing: xavier thorpe x reader

…………………………………………………………………………….

you kept chapstick on you at all times, especially now that it’s cold outside. but of course, you’d never been the one to stick to just one flavor. you have a variety of chapstick flavors just because.

currently you and xavier were in the library studying for the exam that was coming up for your shared botanical sciences class. xavier couldn’t keep his eyes off of you while your eyes were stuck on the book. he liked the way the sun shone through the window and hit your cheek making your face glow.

“didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare thorpe?” you glanced at the boy sitting across from you with a grin on your face.

“i can’t help it when my girlfriend looks so kissable right about now.” this is what you loved about him, he never failed to make your stomach flutter. you shake your head and go back to taking your notes.

“focus on your notes xavier.”

“you gotta give me a kiss first sweetheart.”

you eyed him again seeing that he was dead serious about kissing you.

“no.”

“then i’ll just sit here admiring you until you kiss me.”

“that’s very creepy babe. i hope you know that.”

“i could care less. i’m just asking for one kiss,” xavier shrugged his shoulders giving you a pearly white smile.

“you know damn well that it’s not gonna be just one kiss. you do this to me every time,” you pouted at him.

“baby i swear it’ll be just one kiss.”

you playful rolled your eyes at him, “will you stop being so needy and focus on your notes if i kiss you?”

“oh absolutely.”

leaning over you meet xavier in the the middle to place a peck on his lips. not keeping his promise, he lays both of his hands on your cheeks to deepen the kiss. you were not surprised at all that he deepened the kiss. secretly, you enjoyed him doing so but he didn’t need to know that.

you were the first one pull away and he snuck one more peck to your lips. “that was not one kiss xavi,” you glared at him.

“hey, i did say one kiss. i just didn’t say how long i was gonna take,” he licks his lips tasting more of the strawberry chapstick that graced your lips.

“focus on your notes and maybe, just maybe i’ll consider giving you more kisses.”

-

from loml <3

hi honey, come meet me in the art shed.

to loml <3

that desperate to see me? ;)

from loml <3

always. now hurry your ass up, i wanna show you something

you began your short walk to the art shed. when you got there, the wooden doors were slightly open for you to just walk in. you closed the doors behind you and wrapped your arms around xavier’s shoulders placing your chin on his head.

“okay baby, i need you to close your eyes really quick.”

“really?”

“yes, trust me. i think you’ll like it,” he places small kisses on your forearms that were still around his shoulders. xavier then gets up and leads you to the middle of the floor. you could hear him shuffling around before it was quiet again.

“you can open your eyes now.”

you opened your eyes to a large canvas that he painted of you and him. it was the exact picture ajax took of the two of you at one of the nightshades parties. you were sitting in his lap with a red cup in your hand while he stared at your smiling face.

“also watch this,” he raised his hand to make the image move as if it was playing a scene from a movie. picture you laughed and then looked at him to place a quick kiss upon his cheek making picture him smile.

“baby. i’m at a loss for words right now,” you turn to him teary eyed. you immediately close the distance and pull him into a kiss. he’s hasty to grab your hips bringing you further into to him. cherry he thinks to himself. you tasted like cherries today and he’s sure this is one his favorite flavors from your collection.

“i love this and i love you so much.”

“i love you more. only the best for my girl,” xavier kisses to top of your head and hugs you.

-

it was unusually easy to sneak into xavier’s dorm room this night. you guys would often hang in his dorm rather than yours because of the fact he didn’t have a roommate. leaving you guys to do whatever you wanted. it was movie night and like almost every movie night, the movie was just background noise.

xavier had his back up against the headboard of his bed while you were positioned with your legs on both sides of his lap. he takes the time to wiggle his hands under your shirt to caress your skin before pulling you into a kiss. the kiss was slow yet very savory. sugar cookies? forget the cherries, this one was definitely his favorite one.

“that’s a new one.”

“a new what babe?” you peered at him with questioning eyes.

“the chapstick. it tasted like sugar cookies, i don’t think you’ve ever had that before,” he gently brushed his thumb against your lips. you couldn’t fight the smile that came on your face.

“yeah, i got it in town a couple of weeks ago when i was with enid! it’s a new holiday flavor.”

“this one definitely has be my favorite flavor out of all your chapsticks.”

“wait, xavier you noticed i change my chapsticks everyday?”

“of course i noticed sweetheart. it’s one of the many little things about you that i love.” suddenly you felt shy in front of him. it made you feel good that your boyfriend noticed this little thing that you’ve been doing since you were a kid. you put your head on his shoulder in attempt to hide into his neck.

“don’t hide from me babe. i think it’s absolutely cute that you have different flavors. it makes kissing you even more enjoyable,” the both of you start laughing.

“i’m glad you enjoy it my love.” xavier moves both of you to fully lay down and begins lightly dragging his hand up and down your back. this motion alone was already making you tired.

“get some sleep baby. i’ll be here when you wake up.” you snuggled more into his warm chest and drift off to sleep.

you never thought that xavier would notice something as small as you changing your chapstick everyday. but being the observant boyfriend he is, of course he noticed. you were his girl, he’s always going to notice anything when it comes to you.









[mattsautumn]

Can’t wear that - Chris Sturniolo

Summary:

Warnings: swearing, possessive behavior, sexual content, smut, use of y/n, sex, fingering, eating out, uhhh if there’s anything else lmk!

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 300+ LIKES ON MY LAST POST. THATS INSANE? ily all so so sososososoosos much❤️ also english is not my first language so im sorry if there are any mistakes.

(I love this song sm🤭)

————————————————————————

You and Chris never had any arguments. Most of the time you guys were the ‘perfect’ couple. Today wasn’t one of those days.

Chris and you were planning to go to a party a friend of Chris has planned. You were very excited about going and you even bought a dress. The bad thing about this story is that the dress is extremely short and revealing.

Obviously Chris wouldn’t let you go out like that, so you started arguing.

“I don’t know where you think we’re going, but you’re not gonna wear that outfit.” He says, already getting frustrated by the whole idea.

“Yes i am, you don’t decide that for me.”

Chris stands up, his face red with anger. He walks over to you and grabs your arm, pulling you towards him. “I don’t care what you say right now. You’re not leaving this house looking like that. I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this.”

You push him away, trying to get free from his grip. He stumbles back a bit from the force of your push but quickly recovers. “This is not a normal dress, it's too fucking revealing.” He yells at you.

“No it’s not! Grow up Chris.” You yell back.

Chris loses his temper and grabs you by the waist, lifting you off the ground. “Shut up! You're not going anywhere looking like that! I don't care if you hate me for it, but you're changing before we leave this house!" he says, his voice loud and angry. You flinch at the outburst. Chris sees the flinch and immediately feels guilty. He sets you down gently and takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “Listen, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. But I can’t let you go to that party dressed like that.”

“It’s fine.” You say before walking over to your dresser to grab a new one.

He watches you walk away, his anger slowly fading into concern. He follows you to the closet and stands in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. “Which one are you going to choose?” he asks, trying to sound calm and reasonable instead of angry.

“This one i guess.” I say as i hold up a less revealing dress. He looks at the dress you've chosen and nods in approval. “That one is much better. It’s more... appropriate.” He steps aside to let you change, still feeling guilty about losing his temper earlier. “I’ll wait for you outside. Take your time.” He says. You give him a quick nod before going back to changing.

Chris leaves the room, closing the door gently behind him. He leans against the door, taking deep breaths and trying to calm himself down. He knows he overreacted, but he can’t shake off this feeling of protectiveness when it comes to you.

After a while you come out in a new, less revealing dress. Chris looks up as you come out of the room and his eyes widen in surprise. He takes a step towards you and reaches out to touch the fabric of your dress. “Wow, you look beautiful. I’m sorry I acted like such an idiot earlier.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Shall we go?” I ask. He nods, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude that you’re forgiving him so easily. “Yeah, let’s go. But promise me you’ll stay close to me tonight, okay? I don’t want to lose you in the crowd.” He says.

“Yeah of course Chris.” Chris smiles, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him as he walks beside you to the party. He keeps a protective arm around your waist, scanning the room for any potential threats or dangers. “Let’s have some fun tonight, okay? But remember, you’re mine, and I don’t share.”

The party went well. You met a few girls, whom are influencers. They talked with you as Chris was there being his protective self and holding your hand. Around midnight Chris grabbed your arm, without a word. He grabs you by the hand and pulls you towards the exit, his mind racing with dirty thoughts.

“Chrisssss..” you say, knowing what he was up to.

As soon as you’re back at his place, Chris wastes no time. He pushes you against the wall, his lips crashing onto yours as he hungrily devours you. "Fuck, I need you now.. you look fucking incredible all the time.”

“Really? how bad?” You ask, teasing him. He grins, his hands trailing down your body as he pulls you closer. He can already tell how turned on you are, and it only fuels his desire. "Bad enough that I would bend you over right here if I thought you could handle it."

“What makes you think i can’t?” You ask.

He reaches down and grabs your ass, giving it a hard squeeze. "Because I know you cant control yourself when I dominate you. And right now, I'm feeling particularly dominant." He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Well then, why don’t you show me?” You ask, smiling innocently. He immediately carries you over to the couch and throws you down onto it, following immediately behind you. Suddenly.. you both are naked. He kicks your legs apart and buries his face between your thighs, eating you out with reckless abandon. "Fuck, you taste so good." He speaks between laps, his hands gripping your thighs.

“Oh god baby…” you moan out. He grins at your words, loving how much he affects you. He continues to eat you out, working every inch of your pussy with his tongue. His fingers slide inside of you, curling up to hit that spot deep within. "You're mine, aren't you?"

“all yours Chris, all yours!” You scream out in pleasure.

Chris stands up, letting your orgasm, making you whimper at the loss. "This is all yours." He positions himself at your entrance, slowly pushing inside of you. He loves the feeling of being buried deep inside of you. "Say it again."

“All yours.. fuck.” You say as you feel him stretching you out like crazy.

He slowly starts to thrust his hips, building a steady rhythm. "Damn right I am." His hands grip your hips, pulling you towards him hard on every thrust. "You're mine to fuck, to possess, to worship."

You feel yourself getting closer to the edge within seconds. Chris can feel how close you are to your release. He speeds up his thrusts, wanting to bring you over the edge. "Let go for me baby." With every word, he slams into you harder and deeper.

“Oh fuck i cant!” You manage to moan out between the heavy breaths leaving your mouth. He reaches between your legs, rubbing your clit in fast circles. "Yes, you can. Fuck, you're gonna come all over my cock." He continues to thrust and rub your clit, pushing you towards your climax. "Now, baby..!" He demands, his own release coming. You let go, feeling waves of pleasure flowing over you. As you let go, Chris feels his own orgasm hitting. He slams into you one last time, spilling himself deep inside of you as he groans out your name. "Fuck....fuck...yes, just like that."

Heavy breaths leave our mouths as we’re both left insanely sweaty and tired. Chris leans down to kiss you deeply. "Fuck, that was amazing." He stays buried deep inside of you for a moment before pulling out.

“That was amazing.. thank you Chris..” you say, smiling slightly.

Chris smiles and kisses your forehead. "Glad you enjoyed it." He looks down at his softening cock then back at you. "Want me to clean up or are you gonna stay in bed for the rest of the day?" He smirks, already knowing the answer.

“Both please…” you say. He chuckles and gets up from the bed, walking to the bathroom. He returns to the bedroom a few minutes later with a warm, damp cloth. "Here, let me clean you up."

He gently cleans you, making sure to be extra gentle. Then later tosses the cloth aside and crawls back into bed with you. "There we go. All cleaned up." He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. "You okay?"

“Im so okay.”

————————————————————————

First Chris fanfic?!?! I love y’all sm thanks for the support!💖

[marvelsmylife]

Can you feel my heart breaking?

Pairing: Azriel x reader 

Plot: what happens when the male you’re meant to be with is pining over someone else.

A/n my first angsty Azriel one shot. I did not make this an anti-elain story. I love her and will never write a story where she's being mean to anyone. My girl just wants to take care of her garden in peace. I’m contemplating making a part two to this. Let me know if you’d be interested in a part two.

ACOTAR Masterlist

Part Two

There was nothing worse than watching your mate pine after someone else. Granted, Azriel has no idea that you are their mate. Still, it pained you to watch as your mate followed another female around and made sure she was ok instead of you.

The worst part was that Elain was oblivious to Azriel’s feelings towards her or that you were Azriel’s mate. She treated you with nothing but kindness, making it harder to hate her because she was innocent in all of this. 

Someone who did know about Azriel being your mate was Rhysand. He sympathized with your situation because he was in your position before with Feyre and Tamlin. He was also grateful that you didn’t hold anger towards Elain for the situation you were in. 

Rhysand tried everything he could to keep Azriel away from Elain for your sake, and you thought maybe one of these days, the bond would finally snap on his end. 

That changed one night when you overheard Azriel questioning the cauldron for making Lucian Elain’s mate. You felt your heart break at his words because that meant he’d probably deny your mating bond when it finally snapped into place for him.

The following day, you asked Rhysand if you could be sent to the day court for a while. While he was initially opposed to it, he reluctantly agreed because he knew you had family in the day court and that Helion would treat you right over there. “Yes, you may go. I’ll contact Helion and work everything out,” Rhysand sent you a weak smile: “Just promised me you’ll come back to us. You know you’re like a sister to me. I don’t want to lose you too”.

“Of course, I’ll come back. I just really need to get away for a bit. You’ll never lose me. Unfortunately for you, you’re stuck with me for life,” you replied.

Rhysand let out a soft chuckle before giving you a brief hug and letting you go so you could start packing.

It took Rhysand two days to contact Helion and inform him that you were headed to the day court. Helion told Rhysand you were welcome to stay with him and was excited for your arrival. 

Throughout those two days, you spent it packing and giving individual goodbyes to your friends. Each time, they would question your reason for leaving. Not wanting to lie to your friends, you told them about Azriel being your mate and not being able to be around him when he was hung up on someone else. They understood your situation, and instead of trying to convince you to stay, they wished you luck on your new adventure.

The one goodbye that took you by surprise was Elain. Tears formed in her eyes when you revealed you were leaving: “I know I never said this to you before, but I considered you one of my best friends here. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”

Shocked expression appeared on everyone’s faces at Elain’s confession. Mostly because by now everyone but Azriel knew you were his mate, and they knew how much it hurt you to see him pining over the woman who just called you her best friend. “Everything is going to be ok; you’re going to be ok,” you replied, giving her a tight hug: “And if anything, you can always visit me, or I’ll visit you if you’d like.”

“I will be sure to take you up on the offer,” Elain responded and pulled away.

Azriel was the last one you said goodbye to and for you, it was the hardest one, mostly because he was your mate. “Please take care of yourself Azriel. Don’t stretch yourself thin. That means it's ok saying no to Rhysand's requests from time to time,” you teased at the end causing Rhysand to playfully roll his eyes at you.

“Don’t worry, I will,” Azriel promised; his hazel eyes scanned your face and noticed hurt and sadness in your eyes: “Are you ok? You know you don’t have to go?”

You tried your hardest to keep it together as you replied: “I’m fine. I want this, I’m just going to miss all of you, but I’m especially you.” 

A surge of confidence flowed through you and before you could process what you were doing, you hugged Azriel. This was the first time you’d ever hugged him and yet the moment you hugged him, Azriel felt complete.

But just as Azriel was getting comfortable with your embrace, you pulled away and placed a kiss on his cheek: “Take care Az.”

Azriel felt as if someone knocked the wind out of him as soon as you walked away and got into the carriage Helion had sent out for you. It took him a few seconds to realize it was the mating bond snapping into place for him.

“She’s my mate,” Azriel fell to his knees as he finally felt the mating bond he so desperately wanted to feel for the past five hundred years: “Y/n is my mate, and now she’s gone.”

[comet-forgot-you]

walk with me here, college popular girl amber + quiet masc-ish reader who she takes an interest in. teasing and flirting and Ummmm maybe reader first kiss and first time with amber being super sweet and teaching reader how to touch her .. In the backseat of a car maybe. yeah i’m going insane

im also going insane thank you!!!!

smut. 18+ pls.

do not repost for any reason.

amber noticing you around campus, never able yo talk to you because she’s always with someone. she wants to talk to you so bad, you had her attention and you didnt even know it. it wasn’t until the second semester that she was able to finally talk to you. she saw you in her psych class, one free chair beside you and she took it despite the row in front of you being completely empty.

she wouldn’t know how to talk to you at first, secretly hoping you would talk to her first, but you don’t. you hardly look at her and it makes her so mad. two weeks into the semester and she finally talks to you.

“hey, i like your shirt.” of course she does, its a stab shirt. you glance down at it, forgetting what shirt you were wearing the moment the compliment falls from her lips.

“thank you,” you reply quietly, a faint blush creeping up on your cheeks.

“you’re cute,” she mumbles, turning her attention to the professor as he begins the lecture.

that cycle continues until amber finally gets your number, and then she’s sending you flirty texts, only to tease you about it later in class. then you surprise her when you make the first move, asking her out on a date.

she agrees almost immediately, saying something along the lines of “ive been waiting for you to ask.” it makes your cheeks heat up as you look away from her.

one date turns into another, the two of you are walking around a park in the middle of the night, asking each other questions. the two of you end up underneath a streetlight and amber stops walking, standing in front of you. she wraps her arms around your neck, head tilting slightly as she looks between your eyes and lips.

“have you ever kissed anyone?” your cheeks flush, you hadn’t, and you were slightly embarrassed about it. you consider lying to her, but something about the way she looks at you has you muttering out the truth.

“no.”

amber smiles, leaning in closer to you. “can i kiss you?” your hands find their place on her hips and you swallow thickly, nodding slightly. she smiles, leaning in to press a kiss against your lips.

her lips are soft, her arms tightening as she pulls you closer into her. your grip on her hips tighten slightly. she pulls away and you cant help but smile. the next day your asking her to be your girlfriend, and she teases you, “i thought i was gonna have to ask.”

weeks later, the two of you are driving around in her car, talking about anything and everything. she pulls into an empty parking lot, telling you how tired she was of driving. you offered to switch with her, but she’s quick to shut it down, you two dont have to drive around.

next thing you know shes leaning over the center console, kissing you like she needs you. and she does. she crawls into your lap, holding your face in her hands as she kisses you hungrily. “need you so bad,” she whispers against your lips. “do you know how hard it is seeing you look so good and having to keep myself from pouncing on you? i need you so bad, baby.” you swallow thickly at her confession.

“i don’t.. i’ve never..”

“i’ll teach you, promise.”

“what if im not good?”

“you’ll never know until your try.” you swallow thickly, amber takes your hand, massaging your palm with her thumb. “do you want to try?”

you nod, “yes,” its a weak answer, but its all amber needs before she’s guiding your hand to her clothed cunt. you cup it and amber rolls her hips against your hand.

she moves to undo her pants but you’re quick to shoo them away, wanting to do it on your own. you slip your hand into her underwear, feeling just how wet she was. you exhale shakily, “fuck.”

amber grabs your wrist, pushing your hand further into her pants. you spread her sticky folds, running your fingers through her wetness. amber hisses. you prod at her entrance and amber’s holding back a whimper that threatens to escape.

“use one at first,” she whispers. you do as she says, pushing one finger into her cunt. your movements are slow as you pump in and out of her. you curl your finger and amber lets out a moan. “another.” you sink another finger into her cunt, slowly pumping in and out of her. “good girl,” she whispers.

you shudder at the praise, you bury your head into her neck, nipping at the skin. her grip on your wrist tightens as your palm grazes her puffy clit. “faster.”

you pick up your pace, curling your fingers every few strokes, amber moans. “like that?” you whisper out, searching for her approval. amber hisses, bringing her bottom lip between her teeth.

“fuck,” she breathes out, “yeah, yes. just like that, baby.” she rolls her hips against your palm, giving her clit the much needed attention. “doing so good, fuck,” she moans out.

her walls squeeze your fingers, is that a good thing? you ignore it, picking your pace up slightly. the sudden change has amber moaning loudly, “fuck!” it takes you by surprise, you pull away from her neck to watch her every reaction. her bottom lip is taken between her lips, you bring your free hand up to tug it out of it’s confines.

her cheeks are flushed, her tongue darts across her lips to wet them. you curl your fingers and amber’s moaning again, head falling back slightly. “yeah, just like that, baby. don’t stop, please,” she begs, her orgasm so close.

when she cums, her head falls against your own, your hot breaths mixing with each other. “fuck, you sure that was your first time? you did so good, baby,” she mumbles, her hips still rolling against your palm.

“thank you,” you mumble out and amber laughs, your cheeks flushing.

“you’re welcome.”

[rosewaterandivy]

answer July— ah, said July—

summary: from Summersong Request-athon, inspired by "July, July!" as requested by marvelous Meg aka @courtingchaos �� || The soft pad of your index finger trails down the scar of his jaw, lingering there as you smile, a little different from before.

Softer, somehow. As if it’s just for him.

w.c.: 4700

pairing: e.m. x f!reader

themes: prosaic summer feels, the ephemeral nature of time, processing trauma, mention of previous bodily harm & its aftermath, insecurities and the like, body worship

a/n: long time, no see my fellow fiends. did i let this run away from me? maybe. do i care? not a wit! thanks for tagging along with the team, aka let eddie have a nice, normal summer for once - hope you enjoy! title from "Answer July" by Emily Dickinson.

Summer slipped by syrupy slow, lingering around the edges. All honey-coated and sweet, so much so in fact, that it struck one Eddie Munson as rather strange.

Granted, his spring had been touch and go what with being the town pariah and nearly bleeding his ever-loving guts out in the Upside Down and all. So maybe a slow uneventful summer was well-warranted after all of that.

May sprinted past with its final school bells ringing and a quick dash across the stage at graduation to snatch a diploma from Higgins before the school board could think better of it. He hastily threw together a quick campaign to welcome Will Byers back to town and only somewhat regretfully passed the mantle of Hellfire over to Henderson.

He got himself a job, nothing to write home about, but certainly something to pass the time and get him out of the house. Wayne insisted Eddie didn’t need to work and Eddie said the same for him, the never-ending cycle rearing its head once more.

The government hush money was, after all, nothing if not generous.

Still, he felt ill at ease in the new house. Liable to crawl out of his skin at times.

Besides, if it weren’t for the job, he’d have never set his sorry sights on the newbie behind the counter at the soda fountain.

Yes, of fucking course Hawkins, Indiana had an old-fashioned soda shop pharmacy combo.

Which did nothing to help his sweet tooth.

So, on the days he happened to close the record store, Eddie would peer across the street searching for a familiar head of hair, usually swept up onto a bun or ponytail by day’s end, and a smile that could melt the cockles of his cold, black heart.

The bell chimed as you rung up a sale for a customer at the register, the cash drawer grazing a bit of skin at your hip as you turned.

“Be with you in a sec!”

Eddie settled himself on a well-worn stool and drummed his fingers along the polished counter. He watched as you counted change for one of the old biddies who all but forced casserole down the throats of the Munson men after he’d been discharged from the hospital.

She thanks you and shoves a dollar in the tip jar as she makes to leave.

“Looking lovely as ever Pearl,” A low familiar voice says.

“Oh, you sweet talker,” The older woman swats at Munson still perched on his stool. She tsks and tugs at a lock of hair that’s fallen from where he’d tied it back in frustration. “One of these days I’ll come at you with my scissors, young man.”

Eddie sighs dramatically and swivels on the stool as she reaches the door, “Promises, promises. And yet…”

Pearl pushes the door open and says with a wink, “You’ll never see me coming.”

The door falls shut behind her, allowing him to return his attention to you behind the counter.

At the far end of the shop, you’re hefting open freezer doors and scooping out near perfect spheres of ice cream onto sugar and waffle cones, scoffing when someone requests a cup instead.

He’s surprised to see no one else behind the counter, there’s usually at least one person to man the counter with during the busier hours, the after dinner rush.

The door keeps chiming as people join the line, eyeing the offerings— campfire marshmallow, french toast, vanilla, strawberry, rainbow sherbert— the list goes on and on. Some lean over and whisper to their dates, earning a tittering giggle here and there. Sticky hands of children smack against the glass pointing out their selection as you shove another scoop onto a towering waffle cone.

And it’s then that Eddie decides he’s had quite enough of this.

Tossing his bag behind the counter and hopping over it, all long limbs and pointy elbows. His knees pop slightly as he passes behind you to grab a scoop from the water trough.

“What’re you doing?”

“Uh, helping out?”

And without another word, he turns to the next customer and takes their order, only stepping on the toes of your Keds once or twice before locating the correct flavor.

“God,” He mutters under his breath, the tendons of his forearm prominent as he scoops a glob of pink cotton candy ice cream onto a sugar cone. “People actually like this crap?”

You merely shrug in response before sliding the freezer door shut and opening the next. It goes like this for nearly half and hour before Vickie stumbles in from the service entrance, her cheeks tinged pink and accompanied by a dazed look in her eye.

“Sorry, sorry!” She frantically apologizes, clocking in with her punch card.

Tying on an apron, which Eddie never bothered to do, she greets the customers at the till and rings them up while you make what could very well be the hundredth shake ordered that day, the mixer revving loudly over your retort.

“I’ll allow it,” You turn with a knowing smirk to Vickie, “But you owe me big time, Little Red.”

“Details?” She squeaks.

“Oh, that and more Vic,” You laugh as the machine whirs to a stop.

Deftly, you pour the shake into a cup and shake the canister of whipped cream vigorously. Eddie tries and fails to hide the blush coloring his cheeks as your shirt rides up with the motion. The ‘JERK’ emblazoned on your chest pulling taut against the swell of your breasts from the movement.

He nearly chokes on his own spit.

“Shit,” He rasps as his throat pulls tight.

Passing the shake over with a polite smile to a customer, you thump him forcefully on the back.

Which would be all well and good, if not for the fact that he wasn’t expecting it, and, as a result, falls bodily into your chest, legs tangling with yours, and takes the pair of you down to the mat behind the counter.

“Ow.”

Peering open an eye, he finds Vickie, arms crossed and toe tapping the tile floor, looking down at the both of you with a bemused pull of her lips.

“See, this is why it’s employees only behind the counter,” You say with a grunt as you peel yourself from the floor. “You’re not OSHA certified, Munson.”

Eddie digs the heel of his palms into his eye sockets, hoping that maybe he can just sink into the floor and forget this ever happened.

Because you’re warm, what with having worked up a sweat manning the counter single-handedly and your legs are nice; too nice maybe, with the way his heart is kicking up in his chest, to say nothing of what’s kicking up in his pants.

“Sorry,” He sighs, coming to a seated position. “Are you okay?”

Dusting your hands against the denim cutoffs you’re sporting, you turn and give him a smile. “Never better.”

Legs still tangled, you unwind your limbs from his, crisp white Keds knocking against scuffed Reeboks. He takes the hand you offer and allows himself to be pulled up, only to be greeted by six beatific smiles and less than subtle winks or nods.

“Sooooo,” Dustin drawls, fingers drumming against the glass of the freezer, “Fun trip?”

The ensuing laughter and taunts from what was formerly his favorite group of high schoolers, is enough to make Eddie miss the solitude of Reefer Rick’s cabin.

_

If May was a sprint, then June was a dive into cool water.

Rope swings lassoed around tree branches, splashing into a placid lake from great heights. Blankets spread on rocks and grass for makeshift picnics. The hum of cicadas as lips wrapped around lifted bottles of booze from the Harrington’s liquor cabinet.

Nearly a month gone and Eddie still hadn’t worked up the courage.

Which is how he found himself perched on rock formation that bordered Lover’s Lake with the boys— Harrington, Byers, and Argyle— playing barely tipsy lifeguard as you swam circles around Nancy, Robin, and Vickie. The latter two had somehow wound themselves into a Gordian Knot of limbs and had earned an eagle-eyed glare from one former captain of the swim team.

“Go to the shallows!” Steve called out, a half-empty bottle of whiskey at his feet. “No, Rob,” He huffed and stood up, “You gotta use your arms, like this!” He demonstrated with a perfect backstroke that Robin seemed woefully unequipped to replicate.

“What?!”

Robin’s befuddled call echoed against the rocks lining the shore and spurned Steve into action.

“Jesus Christ,” He muttered, passing the bottle off to Eddie. “Stay there ya dingus!”

Steve’s body elegantly cut into the water and he surfaced to a smattering of applause from those still perched on the rock.

“Good form, I’d give it a solid 8.5,” Eddie decreed before taking long pull from the bottle.

“Now way man,” Argyle piped up, “That’s at least a 9.The way he slipped into the water like that? Some top tier stuff right there.”

He elbowed Jonathan who was preoccupied with blowing rings from his joint.

“Huh? Oh, uh. 5?”

Steve merely rolled his eyes and swam toward Robin and Vickie, who where no closer to shore now than they were when this whole charade began.

“You’re shitting me dude. A 5 out of 10?”

“Oh, fuck.” Jonathan completed one rather slow blink in Eddie’s direction. “I thought it was like, out of five. My bad.”

Argyle called out the new score from the judges to Steve, who had his hands full with Robin and Vickie’s frantically kicking and thrashing limbs, so much so, that he was rather relieved when you swam up beside him to help.

Eddie placed the bottle between his feet and leaned back on his hands, face turned toward the night sky.

Stars littered the inky blue like so many twinkling lights. A few lightning bugs buzzed further along the edge of the wood, a soft yellow glow to guide through the dark. The lake grew calm again, small lapping waves skirting the shore as distant voices grew closer.

“Hey man,” Argyle nudged Eddie’s shoulder with his, knocking him from his reverie. “How’s our favorite soda jerk?”

He smiled despite himself, “She’s fine, I guess.”

“Hmm. And Operation Meatball?”

Eddie groaned and rolled his eyes, “Henderson got to you too, I see. That kid needs to get a hobby.”

Dustin, and the rest of his band of hellions, had gotten it into their heads that Eddie and you were destined to be. Had an entire notebook dedicated to plans and named the whole endeavor after a scene from Lady and the Tramp, which Eddie couldn’t even bring himself to protest.

“I dunno dude,” Argyle shrugged, “She’s schmokin and I may have seen her eye you a time or two.”

He was glad for the cover of night, because his face felt positively on fire.

“You know, if you’d—” Argyle began, only to get cut off by the sound of approaching footfalls.

“Hey guys,” You greeted, stepping onto the rock and dripping water onto Eddie’s arm. “Oh, shit, sorry Ed!” You take a step back and grab a towel from a nearby bag. Tying your hair up in the striped towel, you settle back at his side. “Ooh, got any more of that?”

He follows your eyes to the bottle at his feet, and stretches to grab it. Your damp fingers brush his along the neck of the bottle, and he, impossibly, blushes all the more.

“S’all yours.”

“Much obliged,” You say with a nod toward him.

Your lips wrap around the bottle, and Eddie can’t help but watch a rivulet of water trickle its way down your throat. His fingers itch to chase it, his tongue longs to taste it.

Jonathan deploys a well-timed cough and pointed glance in Eddie’s direction to excuse himself and Argyle.

“Catch you later chica,” Argyle promises with a grasp to your shoulder, “Lemme know when that horchata flavor comes in!”

You promise to do so with a laugh and a wave, before turning your attention back to the water. Eddie sits at your side, quiet, save for the movemnt of his fingers as he fiddles with his rings. There’s a few sounds from Steve dutifully pouring Robin and Vickie into the BMW with conferring with Nancy as she wrangles Jonathan and Argyle into the station wagon.

“You good?”

Turning at the sound of Nancy’s voice, Eddie can see your mouth pull into a smile, the white of your teeth bringing to mind a cheshire cat. Your elbow knocks into his as you duck toward him conspiratorially.

“Whaddya say, Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

Lightning bugs float around your damp hair that’s fallen from its turban, water slick waves drying slowly in the summer heat. A halo blurry gold around your head, Eddie loses all faculty of language, lost in the soft glow cast against your sun warmed skin.

“Take me home?”

He merely nods in response, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

“I’m good!” You call back to Nancy and take another pull from the bottle.

“Call me when you’re home!”

The sound of car engines turning over fills the air, tires crunching over gravel and dried pine needles littering the forest floor. The heat of the day quickly dissipates, replaced with a soft breeze that alleviates a bit of the humidity. And it’s quiet on the shore, save for the clinking of the bottle as you take sips every so often.

For all his gregarious and dramatic antics, truth be told, Eddie didn’t quite know how to simply be. At least, not since spring break with the nearly dying and all of that. He’d returned to the land of the living a little more somber, recovering in the hospital between hushed tones from doctors and nurses, louder exclamations from Henderson and his brood, the comforting weight of Wayne’s hand at his shoulder.

Sure, he’d rallied.

Put on a brave face for the kids, found familiarity in a strained smile mirrored in Steve. Noticed his own body jerking in time with Robin’s at the sound of an unanticipated loud noise. Was quick to cover his discomfort with a joke buoyed by Argyle’s raucous laugh. Found himself helping Nancy plan outings to take everyone’s mind off of things. Sought out Jonathan to share a smoke when it all got to be too much.

But you—

He never minded the quiet with you.

Eddie could maybe, for a moment, let it fall away.

A clink of a glass bottle broke his reverie as it joined the others discarded on the ground.

“This is nice,” You said with a languid stretch, arms raised above your head and falling in a graceful arc as you settled back against the rock.

He had to agree.

“Can I uh, ask you something?”

Your voice had taken on an unfamiliar tone, almost as if you made yourself smaller and unsure. It wasn’t his favorite, he had to admit. Eddie preferred the unapologetic way you carried yourself, a royal flush of confidence which you bandied about with no inhibitions.

Timid didn’t suit you, at least, not in his humble opinion.

He knocked shoulders with you, tried to inject some levity into his voice.

“Shoot.”

“Well,” You squirmed next to him, “And you don’t have to answer this if like, it makes you uncomfortable— the last thing I wanna do is offend you, swear to God.” You take a breath to steel yourself. “I just, I noticed you weren’t swimming today.”

“Ah.”

“I mean,” You clear your throat, “You really never swim, not at Steve’s pool, not here. So.”

“Are you asking if I can swim?” He jokes, “Because, I’m definitely capable. Dear old Dad threw me into a creek,” crick, “And told me to get on with it.”

A hushed laugh falls from your lips, “So, you can but you don’t. Any reason why?”

“Well that,” He says, softer now, “Is quite the story.”

You hum, content with the response not pushing for more than he’s willing to share.

“Tell me someday?”

And oh, is he in trouble. Because the odds of that are more far likely than you’d think.

You’re quick to pack up after that. Eddie trails after you, tossing an odd can or cigarette butt into a trash bag and hauling it to the van. He scratches the light stubble of his jaw, nail catching along the scar decorating his cheek. It’s not as bad as it had been, mostly white with pink tinged edges, and receding into his jawline enough to slip most notice.

It’s not that Eddie regrets the scars, he did what he had to do— the whorls of pink and white puckered skin that now embellished him from hip to shoulder were a simple reminder of that.

Just not one that he’s keen to advertise.

He lets you fiddle with the radio, static crackling through the speakers before the opening riff of Cream’s “Sunshine of Your Love” sails through. An easy smile lights up your face as you lean back in the seat and sing along.

I’ll be with you my darling, soon, I’ll be with you when the stars start falling

His grip tightens on the wheel and he wills himself to focus on the road ahead and not the soft croon of your voice. Which is kind of difficult given how sweet you sound, how desperate he is for your touch.

He rolls up to your apartment complex by the song’s end, having had the pleasure of your signing for the duration of the drive. And Eddie’s probably biased, but he thinks you could give Jack Bruce a run for his money.

He parks the van in front of your building, letting it idle as you unbuckle your seatbelt. You’re grooving a little bit in your seat, and Eddie allows himself a moment to be selfish— gazing as you shake out your mostly dry hair and sway in time to the song, a secret smile pulling at his lips.

Opening your eyes, you meet his gaze. Leaning over the consol, your fingers caress his jaw, turning him to face you fully. The soft pad of your index finger trails down the scar of his jaw, lingering there as you smile, a little different from before.

Softer, somehow. As if it’s just for him.

I’ve been waiting so long, to be where I’m going in the sunshine of your love.

_

But July—

July passes like a dream, as delightful as the sugary syrup currently crawling its way down your arm. The bomb pop melting all too quickly in the height of the summer sun, trickles of red, white, and blue cascade down your sun hewn skin.

A screech pierces the air as Eddie leans over from his seat on the Harrington’s patio to lick the drips from your arm.

Loud enough to draw the attention of the kids and soon his soft huffs of laughter as replaced with a prolonged “Eeeewwww,” from the girls and an offended scoff of “Gross,” from Henderson.

“Can it!” Steve says, volleying a beach ball at his head, knocking his ever-preset baseball cap into the chlorinated water.

Eddie nods in thanks before continuing his assault of your arm.

“Shit, babe, no teeth!”

He ignores this and elects to dig his teeth into the temptation of your skin. You swat him away and recline back in your chair, Raybans affixed to your face, a pout on your lips.

“You’re no fun,” He grouses, kicking back in his recliner. “You use teeth.”

“Artfully,” You quip back in reply, “Poetry will be written about the exploits of my chompers, the deftness, the skill with which I decorate canvases of skin.”

And well yeah, Eddie would know. He has several bruises blossoming along his torso and thighs from said exploits.

So he really couldn’t complain.

He lets the clubmasters slide back onto his face, the blue polarized lenses giving the scene a cooler, dreamier tint. His hand falls to the side, fingers walking their way over to tangle with yours. You give him a quick squeeze before turning your attention back to your latest bookstore acquisition, The Handmaid’s Tale.

In fact, once Eddie got over himself and blurted out some amalgamation of ‘Can I take you out?’, you’d booped him on the nose in response, much to his horror, and waited a beat to say:

“Sure thing, stud,” — Eddie’s summer had only gotten better.

Was it annoying to have near daily occurrence of high schoolers singing “Summer Lovin’” at him? Yes. Were you worth it? Obviously.

Eddie had attempted to date, briefly and disastrously, in the past. In that respect, maybe he was a little gun shy.

But one night stands? Quickies? Handies after a deal at a party? Bjs in the back of the van?

Yeah, that he’d done. And was definitely the more enthusiastic partner in retrospect. And now, with you?

Well, suffice it to say that your first round in the sack wasn’t exactly picture perfect, and he’d nearly gotten a broken nose for all his effort. But, y’know, learning curve and all that, maybe some lighting was required so he could avoid getting socked in the mouth or something.

“Yuck, what is that?” Dustin says with thinly veiled annoyance, gesturing to your hand clasped in Eddie’s. “Hands Across America?”

“The fuck,” Eddie perks up, squinting as he flips his sunglasses onto his forehead. “Hands doing what now?”

“Pfft,” You blow a raspberry and lazily thumb over to a new page, “You don’t even know what day it is, or what’s going on.”

“Yeah, and I wish I knew even less.”

“Hands Across America was months ago, by the way.”

“Hmm, is that so?”

“Really and truly.”

“So, hey,” Eddie ignores Dustin’s gagging and turns toward you in earnest. “D’ya like sex?”

“Uh huh.”

“And travel, you like that, right?”

“Yep.”

“Well then, sweetheart,” He drops your hand from his, drawing your interest away from the plot.

You huff, perturbed by the interruption and glance his way.

“Then you can fuck right off.”

Eddie raises a solitary finger elegantly, aristocratically even. Something practiced time and time again until it became second nature. It’d be kind of impressive if he weren’t so damned annoying about it, flipping the bird every chance he got.

A trait that, unfortunately, the young Wheeler had adopted as his own.

Despite yourself, a laugh breaks from your lips, loud enough to draw the other’s attention from the pool.

“God, I hate you.”

“Really and truly?”

“Oh, you bet sunshine.”

Unbeknownst to the pair of you, Steve and Robin had corralled the kids out of the pool and lured them away with the promise of pizza. Nancy sidles out from the sliding glass door with the cordless in hand, tossing it over to Eddie.

“We got the usual— cheese, pepperoni, and cheesy bread. But I know you’re particular, so.”

“Right on, Wheels. Good lookin’ out.”

Eddie grabs for you again fingers twining with yours as he rattles off the usual to the pizza guy as Nancy makes her way back inside.

“Hey man, can I get an order of mushroom and black olive with the banana peppers and a shit ton of red pepper flakes? Uh huh, yeah.”

He pulls the phone away from his face, tucking it against his jaw to mouth something to you.

You watch his lips, red from one too many popsicles, form the words.

“Garlic sauce? Hell yeah.”

He returns to the call.

“And the— Oh, you heard that? Cool. Thanks, man.”

He hangs up and tosses the phone onto a rumpled pile of towels, tugging at your arm.

“Ugh, what,” You grouse, finally dropping your book on the patio.

“You’re so far away,” He whines, draping the back of his hand across his forehead to heave a woeful sigh. “Oh, when will my beloved return from the war?”

You roll your eyes and clamber over to his pool chair, straddling his hips. “Okay, calm down Scarlett. Tara is thattaway.” You hike a thumb somewhere in the general vicinity of what you’re pretty sure is south. You laugh and crawl your way into his lap.

And, here’s the thing:

It’s easy.

A foreign concept in Eddie’s life up until this particular point.

Which is to say, that since the advent of your relationship with him, Eddie found himself spending more time on his knees than he ever had amongst the pews.

While there’s no catechism for for this particular piety, he’ll take this act of communion for what it is—

His lips and tongue spouting devotionals as he kneels between your thighs. And he’d never been one for God, but maybe He’d made it so two bodies can fit holy wholly together.

After all, he’d been penitent enough.

You twine a streamer of his hair around your finger, head slotting into the cul-de-sac of his throat. His arms wind about your hips, anchoring you in place.

Steve sticks his head out to say he’s forcing the kids on a field-trip to get the pizza, Nance and Robin are grabbing some drinks from the store.

You hum in idle contentment and sink further into Eddie, as if he could consume you entire.

If my body is of your body and your body is of mine, can ever the two be parted? What lies in me now does in you, a reflection in kind.

The marks that decorate his skin, both intentional and accidental, fail to define him.

If they ever really could.

You’d traced their shape, plotted their paths, and transmuted them before his very eyes. The weight, the lead sinking and skittering and pulling him down was no more.

“If I could,” you’d said softly one night, a riot of arms and legs tangled against his own, a lone finger rhapsodizing against his ribs, travelling a familiar continent. “I’d paint you golden.”

No, not gilt.

But gold.

It still daunts Eddie how freely he fell— for you and the effervescent joy that flourished in your wake. It used to unnerve him, if he thought about it too much. For the longest time, he wasn’t sure if what he felt was real, or simply a facsimile of love.

He learned not to dawdle in his darker moods.

He’d hummed at your declaration, so much more accustomed to gloomier comparisons. You’d turned up at him, cleaving your chin across the ladder of his ribs, eyes big and brighter than any star he’d ever seen.

And he hadn’t known what to say.

Weeks had passed and he still hadn’t a clue how to respond.

“Hey,” Dustin yells, striding out of the sliding glass door. “Dinner’s ready!” He waits impatiently, striking a similar pose to that of Steve when he’s at his wit’s end.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie says, shooing him away and slinging a leg off of the recliner.

He takes you with him, much to your protest.

“Noooo,” you whine, “Eddie, the physical therapist said—”

“That I’m fine,” He reminds you, securing his grip under your thighs as he carries you inside the house.

Your petulant pout demands satisfaction, and he acquiesces, dipping his head to yours in a quick kiss.

“Y’know,” he says, voice rumbling and low as everyone fixes up their plates in the kitchen. He sets you on the island counter, his hands spread just past your thighs, arms loosely caging you in.

He smells like summer— sugar and chlorine and salt and the tell-tale wisp of a cigarette. His hair is loose and wild, sheltering you from prying eyes as he rests his head against yours.

It hits him like a thunderclap and descends as quickly as revelation.

“I’d follow you into the sun.”

It’s not a declaration, but a simple fact.

Love.

He’d tell you someday, but not quite yet.

For now, he’ll watch your lips kick up in that adorable smile of yours, the kind that crinkles the corner of your eyes from the sheer amount of joy packed in it. Allowing himself to float on the thinnest of air just for a moment.

This summer, you’ve been his North Star, always there.

And he hopes you always will be.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Oooo Drabble requests okay okay

Imagining obsessed fem R and dark Wanda

R is a younger avenger and is absolutely infatuated with the witch. She knows Wanda knows this. How could she not? She makes no effort to hide her thoughts. And she’s ecstatic when Wanda actually asks her out. She’s a little less estatic when she finds Wanda torturing someone in their basement. But it’s Wanda, she thinks. She may disagree with it morally, but surely Wanda has a good reason. So yes if Wanda asks her to stay and help, or course she will. And of course she’ll help her hide the body after that. And the several ones that came after. Wanda relishes in the fact that she has someone so willing, without even having to touch her mind with her powers. And she exploits this daily. But of course she rewards you for good measure. Helped her hide a body? Very good, why don’t you sit between her thighs for awhile and have all the dessert you want. Helped with a torture session? Good girl, let her find a fantasy of yours and act it out for you. And hey, R’s morals? Totally disappeared when she saw a Scarlet Witch fan get a little too close to comfort and ended up as the next victim in their torture room.

This was kinda long, my bad but yeahhh, hope this gives you something to think about! 🤭💕

Let the World Burn

Dark!Wanda Maximoff x Infatuated!Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: You've been infatuated with Wanda for a long time so now that she's yours nothing; absolutely nothing will stop you from being with her.

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: mentions of torture, mentions of killing, obsession, infatuation, idolization, mentions of sex, mentions of Wanda using her magic.

Author's notes: This turned out a little longer than I thought it would and I kept things kind of vague because I wasn't sure about actually writing torture, killing, and hiding of bodies. I loved this idea though. It felt refreshing in a way. <3

You can feel the electricity in the air when you’re with her. Wanda Maximoff. The Scarlet Witch. The woman of your dreams, the center of your universe. Your heart beats a little faster every time she looks your way, a smile curving on her lips, knowing your infatuation. It’s no secret; you never tried to hide it. And when she asked you out, you thought you might die from sheer happiness.

The months have flown by like a dream. You’re closer to her than you ever thought possible, and you’d do anything for her. She’s your everything. You’ve told her that countless times, in whispers and cries of passion. You thought she understood, but tonight you’re going to prove it.

When you come home and head down to the basement, you find her standing over a man. He’s bound and gagged, terror in his eyes, and Wanda… Wanda is in control. Her eyes glow a sinister red, and her lips curl into a dark, satisfied smirk. The scene is brutal, a stark contrast to the warmth and love you’ve always associated with her. For a moment, your heart stutters in your chest, the shock freezing you in place.

She turns to you, expecting you to flee or scream or call the authorities. But you’re rooted in place, not out of fear, but out of a deeper understanding. This is Wanda. Your Wanda. If this is what she needs, then you’ll be there for her. You step forward, and she arches an eyebrow, curious.

“Are you going to run dorogoya?” she asks, her voice low, testing.

You shake your head. “No. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her eyes widen slightly, the surprise clear on her face. But then it shifts to something darker, something more intense. A twisted kind of love that matches your own. You take another step closer, your resolve hardening. “What do you need me to do?”

She studies you for a moment, then a smile spreads across her lips. It’s a wicked thing, filled with promises and dark desires. “Stay. Help me dorogoya.”

And you do. You don’t hesitate, don’t flinch, don’t question. You’re hers, utterly and completely. Together, you finish what she started, your hands steady even as your mind races. You’re aware of every movement, every sound, every breath. You’re doing this for her.

When it’s done, you help her clean up. You don’t think about the man, the life you’ve taken. Only about Wanda, and how she looks at you now, with a mixture of appreciation and something far deeper. She knows you’re hers, and that you’ll do anything for her.

This isn’t the last time. There are more nights like this, more bodies to hide. Each time, you prove your loyalty, your love. You become her confidante, her partner in this dark dance. And with every act, you fall deeper, the darkness of your deeds binding you closer together.

Wanda is everything to you, and you’ll do anything to keep her. Even if it means losing yourself in the process. Because you are obsessed, infatuated, and irrevocably in love with the Scarlet Witch.

Each time you help Wanda, she rewards you in ways that make your heart race and your body ache with longing. You’ve helped her hide a body? Very good. You find yourself sitting between her thighs, your senses overwhelmed by her presence, her scent, her taste. It’s her way of saying thank you, of showing you just how much she appreciates your unwavering loyalty. You lose yourself in the moment, your world narrowed down to just the two of you, her pleasure becoming yours.

When you assist with a torture session, she calls you her good girl. The words send shivers down your spine, your heart swelling with pride. She knows your fantasies, your deepest desires, and she brings them to life in ways you never imagined. She makes sure you feel every bit as cherished and desired as you make her feel. Her touch is electric, her whispers intoxicating, and you give yourself over to her completely.

There are nights when she intertwines pleasure and pain so seamlessly that you can no longer tell where one ends and the other begins. During a particularly intense session, she might pull you close, her hands guiding yours, her voice low and sultry in your ear. She makes you part of the darkness, but also part of the ecstasy that follows. Her rewards are immediate and overwhelming, her pleasure your ultimate goal.

Sometimes, she indulges your fantasies during the very moments of torture. She’ll glance at you, her eyes dark with promise, and you know what’s coming. She’ll press her body against yours, her lips finding your neck, your jaw, your mouth, as the room fills with the sounds of her power and the victim’s screams. The line between pleasure and pain blurs until you’re lost in a haze of sensation, her magic intertwining with your desire.

Each reward cements your bond, drawing you deeper into her world. You revel in it, crave it, need it. Wanda is everything you’ve ever wanted, and she gives herself to you in ways that make every sacrifice worth it. You’ve become part of her, just as she is part of you. And as long as she needs you, you’ll be there, ready to do anything for her, to earn her love and her rewards, again and again.

Your morals vanished the day you saw a fan of Wanda's getting a little too close for comfort. She was another woman in her twenties, bright-eyed and eager, clearly infatuated with Wanda. You watched her with a growing sense of dread and jealousy as she hovered near Wanda, her eyes filled with the same longing you once had.

Wanda noticed too. Her eyes flicked to you, a silent question in their depths. And you, already knew what she was asking, nodded your agreement without hesitation. It was enough. That evening, the fan found herself in the basement, fear replacing the adoration in her eyes.

You stood by Wanda’s side, your heart pounding, but not from fear or regret. You felt a twisted sense of satisfaction, knowing that Wanda was yours and yours alone. As the fan’s cries filled the room, Wanda’s attention turned to you, her smile dark and approving.

“You’re not going to run are you, dorogoya?” she asked, reminding you of the first time she asked. You already knew the answer.

“Never,” you replied, your voice steady. Your morals were a distant memory, buried under layers of devotion and obsession.

Wanda’s hands found yours, guiding them to inflict pain, her voice soft in your ear, praising you, urging you on. It reminded you of your first time. The girl's screams became background noise, a testament to your loyalty and your love for Wanda. Each cry, each whimper, only reinforced your commitment.

When it was over, and the basement was silent once more, Wanda rewarded you in the ways you had come to crave. She pulled you close, her lips finding yours in a kiss that was both possessive and tender. She led you upstairs, to your shared sanctuary, where she indulged your every desire.

She whispered sweet praises, calling you her good girl, her perfect accomplice. The darkness of the basement was replaced with the heat of her touch, the intensity of her love. You lost yourself in her, every touch, every kiss a reminder that this was your place, by her side, no matter what.

Your morals were gone, replaced by an unyielding devotion to Wanda. And as long as she was pleased, you knew you would do anything, become anyone she needed. Because in the end, nothing mattered more than the Scarlet Witch and the bond you shared, forged in darkness and sealed with love.

[heartfeltcherie]

omg i saw your requests are open and could you do something fluffy with lucifer? maybe like you see something and want to buy it, but can’t and so he surprises you.

i genuinely think i suck at writing for lucifer but will that stop me? nope!

☾. °.   ࿐  ` , •

lucifer was the sweetest boyfriend ever. always asking to hold your hand (though, you tell him he never has to ask), always making sure he’s walking on the outside of the sidewalk and you on the inside, always making pinkie promises with you. he was so unbelievably… perfect.

you were the first person he opened up to about lilith and the ideas he had had for heaven that made him fall into hell; and you listened with an open mind and a heart that you decided would beat solely for him.

it was now your fifth date, walking the streets of pentagram city. the day had gone beautifully with your arm linked around lucifer’s, the sky painted different shades of red. you followed in each other’s steps as fellow sinners were beginning to close up shop for the day.

there was one place in particular that caught your eye — ellie’s pride boutique. so good, you’ll double die! with the white lettering on a red sign, lights flashing all around it. it surely caught your attention. and lucifer noticed as he watched you with so much adoration in eyes as you went up to the big glass window, putting your hands beside your face to get a better look inside.

it was a beautiful dress, one that looked like it came out of the many fairytales you’d seen when you were still alive, a kid.

“see something you like, lovey?” lucifer’s beside you now, also taking a turn in looking through the shop’s window. “wow! that dress is amazing! i-i think it’d look really good on you… erm… know it would” he nervously laughs. “don’t you think?” you laugh at his awkwardness. it’s cute.

“i think it’s a very pretty dress, luci”

you’re putting your hand out to lay on lucifer’s chest, only to feel the soft material of his duck-patterned sheets. blinking your eyes open, rather confused, you sit up in your shared bed wondering where your doting boyfriend was.

and then you hear commotion coming from the living room.

was he creating more rubber duckies?

slipping out of bed to where the noise was coming from and just peaking your head around the corner, you see lucifer rushing around like a mad man.

and then you also see a mannequin… and that dress you saw yesterday in the window.

oh, you felt really bad.

“this has to be perfect! oh gosh, i hope she hasn’t woken up yet, i haven’t even made the tea ye- oh hi, dear!” his blonde locks are a mess and his coat is off, leaving you to see that striped shirt that you think he looks oh-so handsome in; your heart does flips on the spot. “hi, luci. what’s all this?” you point to the elephant in the room — or more-so, behind lucifer.

“oh! r-right!” he clears his throat, making sure his hair is back in order. “my dear, i saw the way your eyes lit up when you saw this dress in the window, and i couldn’t help myself. so… i woke up early this morning to go and make quick purchase of it”

you step closer, completely in awe over the fact that lucifer would do something like this for you… and the dress, of course.

“lucifer, it’s gorgeous… but you didn’t have to do this for me. i-i could’ve saved up money”

“and have you wait a year or a few months? honey, we both know you suck at saving… and spending”

“you have a point”

he takes the dress off the mannequin — with shaky hands and a bunch of nerves as to not ruin the dress. he puts the beautiful piece in your hands.

“here! go try this on! i’ll make us some morning tea!”

you make your way to the washroom and you have to admit, the dress suits you so well — you feel like a princess. your eyes keep focused on the mirror, not truly believing that such a beautiful piece of clothing was adorning your body and made you look like what fairytales were written about. you feel slightly nervous walking out to show lucifer.

he’s sat on the couch, a cup of tea in his hand as he sips from it and one resting on the coffee table in front of him.

“your highness”

lucifer looks over the rim of his cup and as soon as his eyes meet yours, he spats out his drink and becomes a coughing mess.

“oh my golly! darling! you look…” you giggle at his blushing face, curtseying as both hands hold the bottom fluff of your dress. you can’t deny, you’re a flustered mess yourself, wearing something so elegant in front of the king of hell. sure, you’re together, but his title still had that effect on you.

“yeah? how do i look?” you ask shyly. lucifer gets up from his spot, setting his tea cup gently beside yours. he now stands in front of you, his hand coming up underneath your chin, his palm soft against your skin.

“you look as beautiful as the day we met”

please reblog/comment, it’s greatly appreciated ♡

[padfootagain]

Only an Almost (IV)

Chapter 4: First Time

Hello!! Here is a new chapter! This is one includes sexual themes, even if no explicit descriptions, so no minors here, please!

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

*************************************

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 2435

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

Andrew and you didn’t see each other for a few days. You were both busy with work, and an impending fear seemed to hang above the two of you. You were both happy to pretend that you didn’t have time to see each other, it was easier to tiptoe around the line of friendship rather than to cross it for good.

But then Saturday arrived, and with it Andrew’s promise to help you move furniture around your house. You were buying a new bookshelf, and needed to move a couple of things to accommodate the larger shelves.

It was raining, for a change. When Andrew knocked on your door, his hair was curlier than ever, and on its way to get properly drenched. Luckily, you hurried to let him inside the warmth of your house.

“Alright, muscles! Let’s get you dry and warm, and then you can show all that manly strength of yours!” you joked, making Andrew laugh before you had even closed the door behind him.

“Yes, ma’am. I am but your humble servant today.”

It was your turn to laugh. You walked to your kitchen to start a kettle, while Andrew was ridding himself of his wet shoes and coat.

“So, how many muscles will be pulled today?” he asked, walking into your living room to assess the work to be done for the afternoon.

You appeared soon after, carrying two cups of tea; you handed him the one containing two teabags.

“We need to move the sofa, the coffee table, and all the furniture set against this wall,” you explained. “Once that is done, we need to pick up my bookshelf at the shop, and bring it home. We can set up everything now, it shouldn’t take too long.”

“Last time we’ve tried to build a piece of furniture together was at Jon’s, and it took us three hours… I expect to be free at nightfall,” Andrew pointed out, but you shook your head.

“No, don’t worry about that. I can assemble the bookshelf on my own.”

Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow.

“You don’t want any help?”

“I can do it.”

“I know you can… I’m asking if you want help.”

“I don’t want to bother you…”

But he merely let out a laugh.

“When did you decide to stop being insufferable?” he joked, making you roll your eyes. “Y/N… I’m here to help, so let me help.”

You grew a little shy, and Andrew tried to ignore the way it made his heart inflate, warmth spreading in his chest at the sight.

“You’re sure?”

“Of course!”

He drank a little bit of tea, before rolling up his sleeves.

“Alright, tell me where we’re putting all these.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!”

“Pivot! Pivot!”

“I can’t believe you’ve made that joke… Andy!”

“Put it down. Y/N, just put it down, we’ll pick it up again.”

You heaved a relieved sigh as you put down the large cardboard box in your hallway. You took a couple of deep breaths, trying to slow down your heart.

You caught Andrew rubbing his back as you turned to him.

“Okay, next time I need help with something like this, I’ll ask someone my height. Are you okay, Andy?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course. You should close your door, and then we’ll lift this up again and get it safely to your living room.”

You managed to get the box in the right room on your second attempt, even if your arms and hands were sore by now.

Building the bookshelf was quicker than expected, thanks to Andrew’s help. He heaved a content sigh once you were finally done.

“Not too bad!” you nodded, an excited smile on your lips.

He leaned back on his hands, admiring your work. You were both sitting on the ground, in the mess of cardboard and spared screws that came with building furniture.

“So… that means…”

“I can buy so many more books…”

He let out a bright laugh, shaking his head at you with a fondness that made you look away.

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Hey! How many books did you buy last time we went to the bookstore together?” you asked back, making him roll his eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ll have you know my purchases were perfectly legitimate.”

“The first two, maybe. Not the six that came next…”

Andrew laughed again, he couldn’t help it. And it made you break your act, the most beautiful sound in the world…

“Alright, alright. I might have a bit of an addiction.”

“Want some tea before you go?”

“You don’t want help organizing your brand-new shelves?”

“I reckon I’ve bothered you enough for one day.”

“God, stop saying that,” he mumbled, a tinge of annoyance in his voice. “You’re never bothering me, Y/N.”

You gave him a smile, the kind that made his heart melt, that illuminated his entire world…

… Christ, he was such a desperate case.

“Even when I steal all your chips?”

It made him laugh again, of course, even if it was silly. Perhaps because it was silly. You were adorable like this, sitting on the ground with pieces of cardboard all around, your hair a mess and wearing your most comfortable clothes. Domestic. That’s how the scene looked. It could have been a moment held in a shared home…

He wanted to make a snarky remark, but his heart was too soft, too warm, a little too painful as well.

“Even when you steal my chips.”

Your smile grew more mischievous, and Andrew’s gaze lingered on your lips.

“Now that you’ve admitted that, you’ll never get the chance to eat chips ever again.”

You both chuckled at that, and Andrew leaned closer to you without noticing, sitting straighter again. He didn’t pay attention to the way you leaned closer as well.

“Alright, that is too much. I like you enough to concede… 1% of my chips. Not one more.”

“One?! And you say you like me?” you huffed. “I deserve at least 25% of your chips.”

“You’re never getting one-fourth of my chips. Have I never mentioned that chips are my passion in life? You’ll get 5%.”

“20%.”

“I won’t go above 7%.”

“Come on, 10%...”

You leaned even closer, so close your shoulder was brushing his arm. So close, he could feel the warmth of your breath on his chin as he bent down a little.

He struggled to swallow. The thought crossed his mind that you were barely a breath away, that all he had to do to kiss you was to slightly tilt his head and lean down some more…

When did the temperature of the room rise so much?

When did the playful atmosphere turn into this longing?

“Alright, 10%.”

“Deal.”

You offered him your hand, and he looked down at your open palm. He shook your hand, his so much larger than yours. When he looked up, you were blinking, lips slightly parted. He didn’t have the strength to pull away, decided to let you break your hold on him. But you didn’t. Instead, your gaze dropped to his lips, and you tightened you tightened your hold on his hand. Andrew’s heart skipped several beats, he glanced at your mouth as well. When your gazes met once more, you let go of him, and Andrew blushed furiously, ready to pull away, to pretend that nothing had happened.

But then your fingers were lifted to his cheek, your thumb softly stroking his beard. He blinked at you, holding his breath.

When you leaned up, he could barely believe it.

“Andy?” you whispered, your lips almost touching his.

“Yes?” he struggled to swallow, voice low and deepened by want.

“Are you still okay with… what we discussed the other day? About… our arrangement?”

Andrew tried to speak, but he merely nodded instead.

“Can I kiss you, then?”

But instead of answering, Andrew merely closed the gap between your mouths.

It was as wonderful as he remembered, just as overwhelming, as perfect… a feeling he never wanted to end. A sensation he knew he would never stop seeking if he lost you…

The kiss, this time, quickly got heated though. Andrew’s lips had soon found the sweet spot over your pulse, and he busied himself gently biting on the skin of your neck, before kissing it to sooth the tickling flesh. You were breathless in his arms, hands lost in his hair, gently pulling now and then.

When you started to unbutton his shirt, shivers ran through his entire frame.

“Can we take this to the bedroom?” he asked, voice raw and deeper than you had ever heard, deep enough to make your soul tremble, lust audible in his tone.

His pupils were as dilated as yours when you looked at each other.

You quickly nodded, staggering to your feet.

You offered him a hand, one he knew he couldn’t refuse.

“Just sex, though. We still agree on this?” you asked.

Andrew’s chest tightened, and yet as he looked up at you, your lips reddened with kisses, a mark left by his mouth over the curve of your neck, a lustful look in your eyes… he could never have said no. He would have accepted anything to have you, no matter the consequences for him.

“Yes. Yes, we agree.”

You helped him up, keeping your hand in his as you guided him to your bed.

You were still holding his hand.

There was no sound in the room but your two breaths, heaving across silence, scattering over empty space and furniture and the perspiration across your brow.

Andrew couldn’t look at you yet. His mind was just coming down from its height, from reaching for the heavens and gently landing back into your bed, across the soft cotton sheets that smelled of lilac and you. His thoughts were still a little foggy, a little distant even, hanging above him just out of reach. The dizziness that came with utter pleasure and release was dissipating, leaving some room for the return of realisation and consciousness.

He had sex with you. Andrew had just had sex with you. You had slept with him. And God, what love-making that was…

Your hand tightened slightly around his, and he finally gathered his courage to turn his head on the pillow, blinking and then looking at you.

You were dishevelled, struggling for breath still, your eyes closed. Your bare chest was heaving; he couldn’t help but let his gaze trace your shape, the lines of your skin, the perfect curves of your body, for now still uncovered by the sheets. You looked messy and perfectly content. Glowing in some way only pleasure could bring.

He wished for this to be the only sight he would ever see from now on.

“Wow… that was amazing, Andy…”

His lips curved into a cocky grin.

“So… not as disappointing as expected?”

You chuckled at that, finally turning your head to look at him.

“Barely.”

You exchanged a tender smile, while he raised his hand to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His hand lingered to cup your cheek, touch gentle, loving even.

“It was amazing for me too, by the way,” he whispered, moving closer, his tone as quiet as a confession.

You leaned closer to kiss him, and you tasted like heaven, something sweet and impossibly you, a taste he would never forget and always crave for…

“Hold me… please,” you asked in a whisper, and he didn’t hesitate as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you against him. You rested your ear right against his heart, listening to the steady beat of the organ.

You nuzzled into his chest, one of your hands still holding his, the other resting across his stomach where you drew mindless patterns that lulled him into a peaceful state, one he had not reached in years. He bent his head to kiss your hair.

This could work, he thought. None of what had just happened felt like a mere fling, like some meaningless sex. There had been a connection the second your lips met. It wasn’t fucking, it was making love. And now, you were craving for his embrace as much as he was longing for yours. This could work. For now, your life was complicated and stressful. It was okay, Andrew would wait for you to be available again, for you to be ready to give him a proper chance. It would be alright, all he had to do was to be patient. You couldn’t properly date him at the moment, but nothing that had occurred in this bedroom was mere physical attraction. It was more than just sex. You pretending that it was nothing more than a friends with benefits situation… it was temporary. Andrew was not fooled. You were still holding his hand. It would be fine, it was more than just sex… so much more…

He pressed his lips to your hairline.

“God, you’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he whispered, and he felt your smile against his skin.

His hold on your waist tightened slightly, before he would move his hand across your back, long fingers splayed across the base of your spine. Feeling your bare skin against his was driving him absolutely insane…

“Let’s take ten minutes like this, and then I’ll clean the mess we’ve made in the living room.”

“An hour.”

You chuckled, pinching playfully his side.

“Quit having such a terrible influence on me, would you? I’ll give us fifteen…”

“Why the rush?” he argued, his eyes closing while his lips were still resting against your skin and he breathed in the blooming scent of your shampoo. “This is nice… let’s enjoy the moment, okay?”

You didn’t say anything, remained quiet, went back to tracing patterns against his skin.

It lasted a few blissful minutes, before you were sitting up.

You let go of his hand.

“I’m gonna go clean up everything in the living room, and reorder my bookshelves. Do you want some tea?”

You weren’t looking at him, as if you were avoiding his stare. Andrew wondered why.

“No, thanks. I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, though.”

You hurried back into your clothes, and Andrew grew self-conscious, now that he was the only one still naked. He reached for his underwear as well, then his undershirt.

“You’re alright, baby?”

You finally turned to him.

“Let’s make a new rule. No pet names. Okay?”

He blinked up at you from the bed, taken aback, too much so to stop you from leaving the room.

[sweetnsour1]

11:31

Fluff (I promise), Bakugou x fem reader

“We’re too similar.” You had trouble meeting the fiery gaze trying to pierce through your determination.

“And that’s…bad?” You ignore the hesitation, refusing to let it alter your course.

“Apparently.” The table groans under his tightening grip, but you pretend not to notice. “I can’t stand being someone that’s keeping you from being happier…from being the best.”

“Losing you would not make me happier.”

Your smile has never felt heavier. You’re not even sure if it makes any visible change to your face.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” Damn, it always gets you when he’s straightforward like that.

“You know…We give everything out there.”

“Fuck yes, we do.”

“And it’s not enough.”

“That’s not-“ You can hear a small shift in his tone. He’s finally understanding how serious you are. He lets you cut him off.

“It is true. And we can’t keep doing things this way.”

“We can-“

“I can’t keep doing things this way.”

“So you want to just give up?”

“I don’t want to give up on this…on us. But being with you like this…hurts. So yea, we shouldn’t be together.”

“No. We can beat these assholes this time. I fucking know it.” His hands slam on the table just as everyone knowingly picks up their glasses. The usual routine for avoiding any spills.

“Kinda fucked up for the host to call us assholes.” Sero tapes his glass to the table, grabbing something from the mountain of snacks piled on the table.

“I’m not hosting shit. You extras decided to show up here.”

“If you read your texts, you’d know that you have the biggest living room. Charades is better here.”

“Icy hot and De-Izuku have bigger places.”

Mina offers another eye roll, while gathering the energy to reply again.

“If you read your texts, you’d know that Todoroki’s place didn’t have enough props and Deku has too many breakables…that he cries if we break.”

“So let’s vote. Hands up if we are doing men vs women this time…hands down if we are going to let Bakugou’s tantrum get him what he wants?” You’re a little surprised at Momo’s sass, but are even more surprised at the way Todoroki chuckles at her. You’ll have to grill her about that later.

Bakugou huffed, crossing his arms and sliding down into his chair. The rest of the table began exchanging seats before hands even went up. You felt a twinge of guilt as you stood, smiling gently at the pouting hero.

“Can’t believe you’re abandoning me.”

You let your hand slide through his hair and down his neck as you walked around him to the other side of the room. He turned the moment you hesitated, grabbing your wrist. You laughed, leaning down as he tugged you to him.

“Am I forgiven already?”

“Absolutely fucking not, traitor. How am I supposed to win with you over there?”

“If you lose, I’ll make it up to you later.” His smile got wider and you started to worry what he was planning. His expression changed after an elbow from Kirishima reminded him how many people were in the room. He kissed your wrist before releasing you to the enemies lining up on his sectional.

You heard Kaminari pick up the conversation as you walked away.

“So what do I get if iiiii win?”

“You get to leave my house in one piece, idiot.”

Just random brain rot. Enjoy

Masterlist

[holylulusworld]

Mr. Holmes Maid (3)

Summary: You’re his maid.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Maid!Reader

Warnings: angst, power imbalance, dub-con (just in case cuddling/sharing a bed), master-servant relationship, the reader was an orphan, inappropriate behavior

Mr. Holmes Maid (2)

Mr. Holmes’ maid masterlist

The red dress is even more opulent and expensive than the others. You feel like an imposter standing in front of your master in a dress that shouldn’t cover your body.

“Wonderful,” the needlewoman coos. She clasps her hands together and smiles at you. “She looks so beautiful, doesn’t she, Mr. Holmes.” She wants to hear a compliment for her handiwork, not how you look in the dress.

“Mr. Holmes,” you dare not complain, but you don’t feel comfortable wearing a dress made for a lady, not a peasant. “Isn’t that too much? I can’t clean in this kind of dress.”

“It’s for special occasions,” he hastily says while pushing a few looks out of his face. “If we receive guests and such.” The lie easily rolls off his tongue. He straightens his back and looks at the owner of the shop straight in the eyes. “Right, Mr. Stevenson.”

“Oh, of course, Mr. Holmes,” the man almost cowers in front of your master. If he’d lick Sherlock’s polished shoes, you wouldn’t be surprised. “She will look lovely while serving your guests.”

No one at the shop believes Sherlock wants you to wear this dress for his guests. He wants you to wear them only for you.

“Wonderful,” your master finally says. “We will take them all. Maid,” he sternly looks at you. “You can redress after I paid for everything. I’ll be waiting outside for you. Don’t waste time, we need shoes for you too.”

“Shoes,” you murmur while watching Sherlock with curiosity. He’s so different now. Moments ago, he was all soft on you and placed his hand on the small of your back. And now, he orders you around.

“Yes, shoes, maid,” he grumbles. “Let’s proceed then.”

You wrinkle your forehead. What else does he want to buy for you today?

Sherlock leaves you and the needlewoman alone to talk to the owner about payment, and another order.

“My dear,” the woman whispers so no one can hear her. “He’s charming, smart, and very handsome. But be careful. You’re only a maid. If anyone finds out about your affair,” she looks around the shop, “you will be the one to blame.”

“I—no,” you gasp at her bluntness. “I…we…no. We never... I wouldn’t dare…” You shake your head. “Mr. Holmes never did such a thing, madame.”

“I’m not a madame, my dear,” she chuckles lightly. “I was you not so long ago.” She dips her head to watch her husband and Sherlock talk. “My husband saved me from ending up on the street after my master promised me love and devotion.”

You don’t know what to say, so you remain silent.

“After he stole my innocence, he tossed me out on the street like a stray cat,” she whispers. “If you ever need help,” she grabs your hand, squeezing it, “come back here. We have a spare room.”

You nod and give her a quick smile. Your heart is racing, just like your mind.

Is that what Sherlock wants? Steal your innocence and kick you out. Is this his way to remind you of your place? Maybe he tries to fool you, believing you’re just a dull maid, unable to think for yourself.

“Thank you,” you utter and ask her to help you redress. You need to get the expensive dress off of your body, or you’ll faint imagining all the things Sherlock could do to you if you let him…

“Are you unwell,” Sherlock watches you fidget in your seat at the carriage. “What is it, Y/N?”

“The dresses and all that,” you dare not to meet his gaze, “I can’t wear them. It’s inappropriate. I got my clothes and…guests wouldn’t want to see me in such a dress. It’s too…pretty.”

“I bought them,” he sternly replies. “So, you will wear them.” Sherlock’s features soften when you choke out a sob. “Y/N, you helped me so often while I was lost in a case. You made sure that I ate properly and got dressed. You even brushed my locks. Consider the dresses and coat a gift to thank you for your assistance with my cases.”

“I did my duty, Master Holmes,” your voice trembles when he looks at you with soft blue eyes. “Helping you and taking care of you is my honor.”

He smiles at your words. “You’re so…” Sherlock swallows the sweet words he wanted to say. He cannot say them. This would confuse you even more. “Caring and selfless.” He says instead. “If I offer a gift to you, I expect you to take it.”

“Yes, master.”

Sherlock sighs deeply. His words came out wrong, and now you shy away, believing you did something wrong. He wants to take the words back, but that’s just not him.

“We will be home soon, maid,” he softly says. “We should rest soon. It was a rather long and exhausting day for you.”

“What about dinner? I can still prepare everything,” you try to make things up to Sherlock. He bought all these nice things for you, and you could only think of the things the needlewoman said to you.

Sherlock brushes his hand over yours, gently touching it for a moment. “We have leftovers from last night. You need to rest. Tomorrow, we need to talk about a few things.”

You nod and drop your gaze. “Will you send me away now? Did I anger you?”

“What?” He gasps at your words. “No…I…” Sherlock grabs your hand to hold it tightly. “I would never let you go. And you did not anger me, Y/N.” He murmurs. “It’s late and we should not think of anything but to rest.”

Your heart races feeling his large hand hold yours. He doesn’t let go and interlaces his fingers with yours. Sherlock breaks another rule, but there is no one but you and him in that carriage.

Who shall judge him for wanting to hold your hand?

You pace back and forth in your bedroom. Sherlock said goodnight and tried to read some papers while he sent you to bed.

Now the words of needlewoman echo in your mind. What if she’s right? Maybe he tries to charm his way into your bed. You heard stories from other maids. Their masters did the same.

Sherlock never made any promises. He just came to your bed and slept next to you, seeking your warmth and closeness.

It’s all so confusing and you don’t know if you can resist his advances. Your heart, and maybe your soul too belongs to Sherlock for the longest time.

The moment he took you to his maid, you were lost, and you don’t know if that’s a bad thing…

Tags in reblog.

[penkura]

if I could request a comfort fic with sanji👉👈

This past month has been very stressful and tiring for me. I've had so many paradigm shifts it's like I've lost my spark and feel so lost and empty all the time. I try but i don't know how to get back to routine again. Could you pls write sanji helping reader through such a time.

Hello, yes, I'm glad to write this for you!! I know it's very late, but I do hope everything has gotten better for you since you sent this in! 💚 Either way, here's some Sanji comfort to help. 💚

Sanji always knows when something is wrong, he doesn’t need to wait for you to come to him in tears or about to rip your out from stress, he can tell just by looking at you. Sometimes it’s just watching you from afar and he knows you need some comfort or help, so he starts to pull things together for you to help you through everything.

After you’ve all come back together two years later, with how everything has changed and you’ve already taken off from Fishman Island, you’re happy to be back with the people you call your family but it’s still stressful to be moving so fast. Sanji tried to get you to sit with him for some sense of normalcy after you’re on your way but you just give him a smile and say you’re going to your room, you’ll be fine after a bit.

No one bothers you for a while, if Nami or Robin come in, they ask if you’re okay and then you give a thumbs up, they trust you enough to leave you be for now. You’ll be fine after some quiet and maybe a nap, they get that. Just some time to get yourself relaxed and used to the fact things have moved and change so quickly.

It's a few hours later when someone knocks on the door, making you sigh before you crawl out of bed, blanket around you shoulders, but you aren’t that surprised to see Sanji there with a tray in his hand. He gives a slight bow with a smile which makes you start to grin in return.

“I know things are different right now, but I figured you could use some snacks and a drink or two to help.”

Sanji starts to tell you he’s made all your favorites and brought some water and tea for you, he doesn’t want you to get dehydrated or anything. You let him in of course, sitting back on your he’d while he sets the tray down and you thank him for this. It’s more than you would’ve asked for if you’d thought about it, but he waves you off.

“It’s my pleasure to serve my favorite person,” you only just now notice he’s not even got a cigarette at the moment, probably to keep from disturbing you too much, but he does come over and stroke your hair a bit, “And if you don’t mind, I could stay with you for a bit?”

Instead of verbally replying, you just hug Sanji around his waist, making him laugh as he wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight.

“I’ll take that as a yes, my dear.”

Sanji stays with you until you start to relax and feel like everything is going to be okay, he promises he’ll never let you struggle through anything alone. He’ll always be at your side to help you through anything.

[mypoisonedvine]

81:"just come to dinner with me. it doesn't have to be weird." 89:"keep the lights on, I want to see you." 88:"kiss me like you mean it." With Jack Whiskey or maxwell Lord.

Hope your having a lovley day<3

-❄

I know he's not everybody's favorite but I want a sugar daddy maxwell fic sooo bad! to make it fair I decided to take some liberties with his look lmao

length: 2.5k (no clue how that happened...)

warnings: smut (18+ ONLY), oral f receiving, sugar daddy relationship, alcohol consumption, possessiveness <3

You’d never done anything like this before— you made that perfectly clear to him, to the point that you wondered if it would scare him off.  But it didn’t, which was equal parts comforting and concerning.

However, even with all your complex emotions towards the idea, you agreed to it.  Just come to dinner with me, he’d told you, it doesn’t have to be weird.  Nothing has to happen— it’s just dinner, no expectations.

That relieved you enough to get you to go out with him.  He’s not expecting anything, you promised yourself, it’s just dinner.  Nothing has to happen.

But you still put on your nicest lingerie under your dress… just in case.

The whole thing made you feel out of place, honestly: you’d never been to a restaurant this nice, you’d never worn a designer gown before (let alone one that someone had picked out and sent to you for your first date), you’d never been picked up by a private driver—you didn’t even know what to do when you got to the restaurant, so you were a bit relieved (if certainly surprised) when you walked in and they seemed to already know you.

The host greeted you by name, took your coat, and informed you that Mr. Lord is already waiting for you at his usual table.  That made you wonder if a girl like you was his usual guest.

Your heart picked up its pace when you saw him from across the restaurant; he looked like he fit right in, with his hair slicked back in a black tux.  He looked so natural like that, you couldn’t even imagine him without a tux.  (Well, you could, but you were trying not to.)

But, your heart didn’t really start racing until he saw you.  His eyes lit up, and a tilted smile filled his face as he stood to greet you.

“Don’t you look gorgeous!” he purred, leaning in to kiss your cheek as you approached— even that caught you off-guard, but you realized it wasn’t meant to be especially flirtatious, it was just one of those rich people greetings.  Then again, the arm that reached around you so his hand could rest momentarily on your lower back felt a bit more than friendly.  “You like the dress?”

“Y-yes, thank you,” you smiled nervously as you looked down at the floor-length black gown again, “it’s beautiful.  And more comfortable than it looks.”

He laughed a bit, squeezing your arm briefly before gesturing for you to take your seat.  One waiter was already pouring your water and another was draping a white napkin over your lap and pushing in your seat;  “White or red, miss?” the one pouring drinks asked.

“O-oh, um—” you began, but Maxwell interrupted.

“Why don’t you bring her a glass of the ’61 Chateau Haut-Brion?” he suggested.  “To go with mine.”

“Of course, sir,” the waiter nodded, and soon him and his fellow servers departed.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Maxwell addressed you again, “the house wines are fine— but I think you’ll like this one, it’s excellent.”

“Oh, I trust you,” you smiled, “you know a lot more about all this than me.”

“Try not to feel too intimidated,” he assured, “almost everyone here is worrying just as much as you about looking like they belong—probably even more than you are.  The only difference is, you actually have enough beauty to not be outshined by a place like this.”

A little uncomfortable with the compliment, you looked around the modern space— so much glass and crystal sparkling under pleasantly-dim lights, with a view out over the ocean just outside the window you’d been seated against.  It was sleek and ornate all at once.  “It really is a lovely place, thank you for taking me here,” you announced.

“Oh, I come here all the time— more than I should,” he laughed.  “I’ll warn you now, you might become addicted once you get a taste.”

A brief moment passed before he quirked a brow.

“Of the food, I mean,” he winked, and you giggled a bit.

“Right— should I, um, look at a menu?” you wondered.

“It’s actually a set course tonight,” he explained, “I hope you don’t mind.  Honestly, I prefer not having to think about it— and the chef here never misses.  He’s a good friend, actually.”

“I get the feeling you’re good friends with a lot of people,” you observed, and he gave you a knowing smile.

“Should I be offended?” he asked.

“No,” you laughed, “but you seem like you’re always getting in places, always getting special treatment or private access— ‘cause the theater owner is a good friend, the executive producer is a good friend…”

“You make me sound much more popular than I am,” he shrugged.

The waiter returned with a bottle in hand, showing the label to you and Maxwell.  “The Chateau Haut-Brion you requested, Mr. Lord?”

“Fabulous, thank you,” Maxwell smiled as the waiter uncorked the bottle and poured glasses for you both.

“The first course will be out shortly,” the man explained before he departed; you reached for your glass, about to take a sip, but your date raised his own.

“A toast,” he suggested, making you stop pulling your glass closer and holding it up in anticipation instead, “to… new friends.”

You smiled and clinked your glass against his.

~

You tried not to look too starstruck as you looked around the penthouse apartment, but it was hard to hide your awe at all the fine art on the walls, the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittery city below, the vintage and baroque furniture…

“I haven’t been here in a few weeks,” he explained as he sauntered inside after letting you in, “forgive me if it looks a little barren— I’ve been in my home in California for some time to manage my work there, I only visit my apartments occasionally—”

“You have more than one?!” you realized, unable to suppress the urge to gawk, and he smiled as you looked back over your shoulder at him.

“I have quite a few properties, yes,” he nodded.  “Miami, Berlin, Hong Kong— all of these, of course, would be available to you whenever you’d like to visit, if you were to…”

He trailed off, approaching you as his eyes darkened a bit.  “If I was to…?” you prompted.

You shivered slightly when he reached up to run his fingers gently along the curve of your jaw.  “If you were to accept my offer.”

You swallowed, turning to face him properly, and sighed when his other hand came to rest on your waist.  “A-and, if I was to…” you trailed off, apparently still not proud enough to say it, “would there be… anyone else?”

“No,” he shook his head, “not for either of us.  That’s not what I want.”

He’d explained to you before, in a few different ways, what he did want.  He’d explained that he enjoyed ‘dating’ this way because it took out the guesswork, because he was too busy for a traditional relationship.  He needed a partner who could work around his complex schedule— and to soften the blow, he would send gifts to fill the time while he was gone.  All he really asked was that you stay ready and waiting for him to return— or even to be ready to drop everything and hop on a private jet to come see him wherever he was when he needed you most.

The look in his eyes certainly showed that he needed you now.  You knew that if you told him you didn’t want this— or even just that you didn’t want anything to happen tonight— he would be polite and sweet and have a car take you home.  But you also got the feeling that if you said any of that, he would see right through it.

You wanted this too.  It was sort of obvious, especially as your hands snaked up his chest over the fabric of his tux, resting on his shoulders as you looked up at him expectantly.

“Why don’t you tell me what you want, beautiful?” he suggested in a low voice.

“I… I want,” you began hesitantly, having to look away to find the courage to say it, “I want you to tell me what to do.”

He smiled a bit, lifting your chin and guiding you to look up at him again.  “Kiss me like you mean it.”

You felt strange about that wording— like he thought you didn’t genuinely want this and just tolerated it in exchange for the money.  Which wasn’t true, but then again, it is hard to turn a man down when you’re wearing the thousand-dollar dress he bought for you.

And, of course, you kissed him.  You wove your fingers into the hair at the back of his neck, shutting your eyes and sighing as he tightened his grip on your waist; he wrapped you up in his arms, slowly and gently, and hummed lowly against your lips.  There was something about it that was different from every other first kiss you’d had (or possibly every other kiss you’d ever had) but you completely lacked the words to describe it.  Maybe it was how careful he was with you, how oddly patient; or maybe it was how quickly you found yourself wanting more.

You opened your mouth slightly, letting him delve deeper with his tongue, though he wasn’t too aggressive about it at first.  It was still sweet and slow, and you relaxed further as you pressed your body to his.

He broke away sooner than you wanted him to, and you watched his eyes scan over your face before they drifted to your shoulder— where his hand was tracing over the strap of your dress, teasing that he might slide it down at any moment.  You found yourself wishing he would, but instead he brought his eyes back to your own.

“Would you mind if I showed you the bedroom?” he suggested.

“Not at all,” you breathed.

You didn’t get a very thorough tour, not when you were stumbling backwards through the door as his hands ran all over you.  He quickly flipped on the light switch as he walked past it, only for you to reach and turn it off again.  He smiled playfully at you as he broke his lips away.  “Now, darling, how am I supposed to show you the bedroom in the dark?” he mused.

“You can show me after,” you sighed, trying to tug him by the jacket into another kiss, but he resisted with a smug grin.

“After,” he repeated with a low, rich voice that seemed to wash right over you.  “But what we’re about to do, I don’t want to do in the dark, either— you’re much more exciting to look at than some boring old bedroom that’s been on the cover of Architectural Digest…”

You laughed a little, but he bit his lip as he pulled you closer to him.

“Keep the lights on,” he pleaded— or maybe demanded, “I want to see you.”

You flipped the lights back on, and he almost turned that designer gown to shreds getting it off you.

He growled as he got a glimpse of your lingerie, and you bit your lip through a smile when he met your gaze again.  “Oh, angel— you’ll spoil me.”

He dropped to his knees in front of you, making you gasp slightly as he delicately ran his fingers along the lacy hem of your panties.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he sighed, “I need to taste you.”

“Fuck,” you mumbled, “o-okay, whatever you want.”

Looking up at you, he shot you a glittering smile.  “Get used to saying that, beautiful.”

You shuddered, just as he pulled the panties down and dove between your legs.

You felt a bit undignified with him burying his mouth against you while you were standing up; your knees wobbled and he grabbed onto your hips to help keep your balance, sliding his tongue out between your lips.

“Fuck!” you gasped, reaching down and grabbing a handful of his hair greedily.  He moaned against you, shutting his eyes tighter, lapping at you eagerly.  He pulled away far too soon, and you whimpered before he beamed up at you with slick lips.

“Get on the bed,” he demanded.

You didn’t need a tour of the room to find that: you stepped out of your panties and fell back onto it, smiling at him as he quickly slipped off his jacket and climbed up over you with an insatiable look on his face, his dark hair broken out of its style by your touch and dangling down around his face.

“Take this off,” he instructed, running a finger over your bra as he balanced himself to hover over you.

You sat up enough to reach behind your back, unfastening the garment and shimmying out of it to toss aside onto the floor.

His gaze raked over you lasciviously.  “Forgive me,” he breathed, “if I can’t find the heart to take my time with you like I imagined.”

You felt your heart skip, just before he descended and kissed you again, the tangy taste of your own arousal making you moan in the back of your throat.  The kiss was filthier and needier than ever, and quickly moved down to your neck; your back arched up off the satin sheets as his tongue traced your pulse.

“I could spend all night,” he panted between heady kisses, “tasting you everywhere.”

“God,” you whimpered, “I won’t stop you.”

“And what if I want to spend the whole night inside you?” he challenged further, making you whine and stir under him.  He pressed his weight down on you as you slowly spread your legs; you felt suddenly aware of him still being almost entirely dressed while you were stripped to nothing, and it somehow only made you more desperate for him.

“Please,” you begged, feeling his teeth scrape your neck as his hips rocked against yours.  You gasped feeling how hard he was, and it turned into a proper moan as one of his hands groped roughly at your chest.  “Fuck, Max—”

“When you say my name like that, I’m not sure how I’m supposed to control myself,” he growled, pulling back to look down at you.

“Then don’t,” you offered with a smirk.

“Just promise me one thing,” he began, surprising you with the change of his tone.  “If we do this… you’re mine.”

Your throat caught on nothing.

“If you can’t handle that, I understand,” he mitigated, “but I can’t pretend that I feel any differently— I need you, all to myself.  I need to know that you belong to me.”

You found yourself nodding before you even really thought it through.  “I’m yours,” you promised as you clutched desperately at his shirt, making him smile proudly.  “Fuck, I’m all yours.”

He kissed you—not as ruthless as the last one, but still plenty passionate.  This time, you were completely sure you’d never been kissed like this.

“I want you to say that,” he purred against your lips, “every time I make you come.”